Knighthood: A Tale of the Fourth Sphere

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Czernobog
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Knighthood: A Tale of the Fourth Sphere

Post by Czernobog »

KNIGHTHOOD

Lucia, Night

He looks at a woman, his mother (he knows this, but how, he doesn't understand how). She is running, and yells out one word to him:

'Run!'

Then, something hits her from behind, and she falls, limp and lifeless. He runs, and runs, and doesn't stop, but the figure who killed her is still trying to catch him
-

- He wakes up, on a bed in the middle of the night, and goes to the window, in quiet contemplation. Was that dream fantasy, or was it truth? He doesn't know, he doesn't remember his true parents, and he hopes he never discovers. As he looks from the high tower through the window, at the wondrous, luminous city, made of great blocks of white stone that glow in the dark, on a rocky crag high above the common folk and the merchants, he remembers the virtues of the Luciferian Church - faith, humility, and zeal.

Suddenly, he remembers another moment, it flashing back before his eyes -

- He is kneeling before the Ikon of the God Lucifer, looking reverently at it. It is a fresco, so lifelike it seems real, depicting the God, flying above the corpse of an enemy on six wings, his eyes radiant, his visage serene, wearing the plate armour of a warrior, wielding a sword of fire in his right hand.

He prays in the High Tongue, each word reverent, as he continues to kneel before the sacred Ikon. It is vital that he do this - this is his Vigil, so that he may become a Knight. He must also remember what he is - a Noble of House Castellanos, even if he may not be born into it
-


- He looks around, then goes back to bed. Soon, his dreams will be pleasant. But one thing above all is important. His name is Romanos Castellanos.

The Citadel, Lucia


The Conclave had begun, and every Great House save House Castellanos had been invited. The reason was simple. The Paterfamilias of the House had betrayed the Basileus a decade ago, and it was still not trusted, although it was still in the royal line.

The nobles debated about taxes and other such things, not knowing of the deadly menace beneath their feet.

One-hundred fifty barrels of Hellpowder, placed within the cellar by agents of the Confederation of Lohengramm.

As one they exploded, blowing the hall literally apart in a massive explosion. Smoke and fire filled the streets, as pieces of stone flew away from the rapidly-collapsing building, and the clash of thunder was heard throughout the city, making the bell of every church toll. It was fitting for the death of so many. The Basileus and all his men had literally been blasted apart, killed instantly. No trace was found of their remains.

The smoke quickly cleared, but the rubble did not.

House Castellanos was now the only family in the line of succession.
Last edited by Czernobog on Tue Jul 13, 2010 7:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
You have ruled this galaxy for ten thousand years.
You have little of account to show for your efforts.
Order. Unity. Obedience.
We taught the galaxy these things.

And we shall do so again.
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speaker-to-trolls
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Re: Knighthood: A Tale of the Fourth Sphere

Post by speaker-to-trolls »

Kamin wrote: Introducing; Manlius Protagonius!
Those three lines at the beginning where he's dreaming of his mother are the best part of this chapter, the bit about him not wanting to find out who his natural parents are is also a pretty good hook, for my (entirely metaphorical, having no physical or legal existence whatsoever) money.
Otherwise. Meh.
Note: Did you know Manlius isn't a joke, it was a real Roman name?
Well, it is a joke in this context, but it was also a real name.
The only men to enter the Citadel with honest intentions accomplish their mission
This apparently needs to happen for the plot, but seriously you could have done this a lot better.
As one they exploded, blowing the hall literally apart in a massive explosion. The Basileus and all his men had literally been blasted apart, killed instantly. No trace was found of their remains.
I mean really, you just say there are bombs under their feet, then they go off, and that's how you describe the government of this empire being assassinated? That? I mean really you manage to relate three times in one very short sentence the fact that all these guys were killed, and you say it in the dullest way you could possibly manage.
The smoke cleared quickly, but the rubble did not
By Jove, is that a metaphor?
House Castellanos was now the only family in the line of succession.
Duhn-duhn-duhn!

The content is not bad for an opening chapter, you introduce the protagonist and get the ball rolling, which is a pretty good way to start a story. I would advise, though, that you revise this chapter; Beef up Romanos bit a little more so that you get a slightly better idea of his internal monologue, nothing revealing, just a few more of his thoughts on his parents, a longer description of the city, and maybe extend the bit with him remembering praying and add some allusions to why it's important.
Also do a complete rewrite of the bombing scene, just make the descriptions a bit more detailed and, well, better. Maybe describe the people there and allude to what they might be discussing, I don't know.

EDIT: You know when I suggested you rewrite the chapter I invisioned something more substantial than a maybe 5 extra lines.

DOUBLEEDIT:I'm not sure why I didn't mention it last time, but also, this is really bad:
he remembers the virtues of the Luciferian Church - faith, humility, and zeal.

Suddenly, he remembers another moment, it flashing back before his eyes -
There are other ways to lead into a flashback to his vigil or to introduce the fact that he's a knight and worships a god called Lucifer, and almost all of them are better than "he remembered apropos of nothing what the core values of his religion were then FLASHBACK".

For example:
He shakes his head as he looks out over the city, this is real, this is truth, the illuminated world, not the murky darkness of his dream. To worry about dreams is the province of children and barbarians.
"A knight heeds only the paths God lights for him, and follows not the roads of sleep and the deceptions of corrupting darkness"
He casts his mind back to the night of his vigil, where he banished the hold of sleep on his mind...
"Little monuments may be completed by their first architects, but great ones; true ones leave their copestones to posterity. God keep me from completing anything."
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Re: Knighthood: A Tale of the Fourth Sphere

Post by speaker-to-trolls »

Right, well in a strange turn of events Kamin has kindly let me take over this project with a rewrite of this story, here is the first chapter, second should be ready either tomorrow or at the weekend.

Knighthood

I

Castellanos Villa, the Old Quarter, Lucia

Yellow grass waves around his waist and he hears his mother call to him, how is it he knows she is his mother when he has never heard her voice? He sees her, silhouetted against a furious orange sun set into harshly shining rings of bronze. Long, sharp shadows stab into the field around her.

He hears her shout again, just one word, but this time he hears what she says.

“Run!”

She falls forward, dead, a shadow in her back.

He doesn’t see the man who killed her, he cannot, he can do nothing but run. The man will be coming for him next, he knows this, he knows he has to run, just has to run, run until he is safe.

He’ll have to run forever.

The fields are burning in orange, there are spears of grass stabbing up around him and all around the savage sun throws shadows straight as blades.

He runs.


The man woke up and looked around his large, if sparsely decorated, chamber. He felt the surprisingly hard and small bed beneath him, looked around at the icons of God and His lesser saints, the statues of his family’s ancestors and the small collection of scrolls he kept there. All his possessions were indistinct against the dark carpeting that kept his chamber in restful shadow during the night. He took a moment to look at his surroundings, letting their familiarity sink in. He lifted his sheets, set them aside and made his way toward the window, where he could hear a distant murmur of voices. He opened the shutters and closed his eyes for a moment as the darkness of his chamber was flooded with light. Outside the city of Lucia glowed in the darkness, the houses, palaces, temples and public buildings of the Old Quarter standing against the darkness of the sky like a hundred strange moons brought down to Earth. He looked out among the streets and heard the distant, indistinct sounds of people talking to one another, going about the business of their lives, oblivious to his fantasies or anyone else’s.

He cast his eyes all the way across the city to the great, shining mast of the Citadel, towering above the lesser structures around it like a pillar standing in support of the Heavens themselves. He looked away from it, the sight of the great palace reminding him of the misfortunes which meant he could never take his place within it. The eye-aching brightness and the recall of shame burned away all the groggy stupor of the newly woken mind; he remembered fully who he was.

He was Romanos Castellanos, last son of the Castellanoi, a nobleman and knight of the City.

He did not know the woman who had given birth to him, and he had no wish to. Whoever she was, she was the past, and more than that, a past he did not even remember, she was something to which he had no connection, except for his dreams. He shook his head and turned his back to the city. The dream had a greater hold on him than it should have, not only as a knight but as a man of any kind. Dreams were frightening only to children.

He made his way across the floor to his small shrine, and his image of the Great God, the Light-Bearer, in the shape of a six winged warrior, a sword and shield in either hand, and clothed in a suit of armour studded with stars. Only his head was uncovered, with long white hair falling to the middle of his back and an expression of serene, simple confidence carved onto his glowing face. He knelt before the statue and looked up into that face. It was not the finest workmanship, he knew, but it was still among his most treasured possessions, the best way he had of visualising the creator who his people looked to for inspiration and judgement.

He began his prayers in the high tongue, praising the names of the Great God, and most especially the name that showed his purest nature, Lucifer, bearer of light into darkness. He prayed for the purity and safety of his city, for the King and his ministers, for his own knightly order and his family. Then he prayed more specifically for those he knew well, for his sister, for his aunt and uncle, wherever they were, his grandmother, his cousins. He prayed for the soul of the man who had been his father and the woman who had been his mother, and even for the wretched soul of his other uncle, accursed by the city though he was. At last, after all others had been accounted for, he asked the God to give him the strength and wisdom to follow the right path, to remember honour, duty, humility and piety in spite of the world’s corruption.

“And cast light upon the things that come to me wreathed in shadow, that I might know them for what they truly are” he added quietly, after all else was done.

He did not speak, at least directly, of the woman who gave birth to him, or of how she might have died. Had he been given more time to think on it, he would have remembered that eyes of the Light Bearer are lit by such light that nothing can be hidden from them, even the thoughts a man does not see in his own heart.

But tonight would not grant him time for reflection.

A sound like a great peel of thunder, yet louder than any thunder blast Romanos had ever heard in his life, smashed through his reverie and rattled his entire chamber. The icon of Lucifer wobbled slightly, and when it came to rest its luminous head seemed inclined, if only by the slightest fraction, in the direction of the window. Romanos stood quickly and covered the distance to the window in three strides before he thrust his head out into the night air to look in the direction from which the sound had come.

He did not know, and he could not know, at that time, how the horror which had drawn him from his prayers was to change his place in the world.

*

The Citadel, the Old Quarter, Lucia

There is good reason for Lucia to be called ‘the Sleepless City’.

The Buildings of the Old Quarter have always glowed with a strange blue-white light in the anti-sun’s darkness, and because the Lucian night is rarely cold save in the depths of winter it was always possible, where convenient, for noblemen to conduct their business at any time they desired. The nobles of Lucia had adapted themselves to this condition over the centuries, and so it was that, while the day still served as the main time for their activities, they found it easy to change the times when they woke and slept depending upon the specifics of their needs. In meetings of great importance, most especially in the Conclave of the King and the High Nobility, the hour to which the meeting extended, and even the hour at which it began, was considered immaterial, as long as satisfying decisions were made about the matters being discussed.

It is for this reason that they died.

The Conclave had begun at midday, the greatest members of all the greatest noble houses in the city, all related to the Basileus by blood, had gathered there, save only for House Castellanos, whose young paterfamilias had yet to attain for his uncle’s disgrace.

Weighty matters for the survival and health of the City and the Empire at large were to be discussed today. There were taxes to be levied, other taxes to be relaxed or repealed entirely. There were armies to be dispatched, frontiers to be reinforced, fortresses to be built and roads to be laid. There were barbarian kings to be parleyed with, to be disposed of or supported as suited the needs of the City. In Lucia itself there were celebrations to be planned, new housing to be provided, old housing to be torn down, temples to be established and disputes to be settled over the ownership of villae and farmlands. There were shrines to be renovated and acts of faith to be performed, though there was also a priesthood growing, in the eyes of some, entirely too involved in its worldly duties.

It is not surprising then that the discussions lasted long into the night, but the Conclave might have retired earlier had the representatives of two of the great houses present, the Terrarioi and Longinioi, not been drawn into a long debate which roused old grudges between the two families. The Terrarioi accused their rivals of corruption and of all but stealing many acres of farmland, both on the Lucian plains and farther afield in other provinces, from them and from other families. The Longinioi denied this in the strongest possible terms, and as members of the
High Nobility, linked by blood to the King himself, they had the right to be heard, and the two of them had the right to continue their debate until the issue was settled.

This was nothing new amongst the Conclave, so the High Nobility let the ancient foes make their war of words. This is why they died.

It must be understood that even though the people of Lucia are used to remaining active through the night, the sun is still far brighter than all the stones of the Old Quarter, and this will have at least some small effect. Add to this fact, that many of the guards about the Citadel that night were drawn from diverse places, and had not seen the Old Quarter for many nights. For every family had brought its own knights, and mercenaries from other lands as well, in addition to the men of the Cities Legion, many of whom hailed from the New Quarters where the common people dwelt, and the Kings own Ringed Guard.

It would not take any great incompetence on the part of these men, only a momentary slip in concentration, or a single instance in which complacency allowed a small group, dressed as simple slaves, to pass without inspection. If those servants were accompanied by a man evidently a knight of the City then their folly would be even more understandable. If that knight was recognised by another of his order, who gave him a simple greeting, and did not subject him to further scrutiny, then what were the other soldiers to think? And should that knight be condemned for allowing exertions in reaching the city and the tedium of his post to prevent him from asking a question which might have given the newcomer pause?

Nor would it even take great incompetence, especially when their wits were set against ingenious and meticulous cunning on the part of their enemies, for the guards to allow one hundred and fifty barrels to be entered into the Citadel. The Citadel, after all, was vast, and hosted many feasts, it would be easy to assume those barrels contained nothing worse than wine.
It was no great incompetence on the part of their guards, only the lapses which can be expected of any men, which killed the King and the High Nobility.

The explosion sent out a rumbling noise ahead of itself, which interrupted a savage rebuttal by Crassus Longinius against his accusers. The Conclave was silent in the few seconds before the explosion reached them. The last words of the last Basileus of the line of Solarian were, “What is that?”

When it answered, the explosion tore the top from the citadel, throwing boulders bigger than men around the ancient palace like so many pebbles hurled by a child. The rocks crashed their way through the walls of a hundred rooms, tearing apart the council rooms, living rooms, courtyards, shrines and every other part of the ancient palace. Mere seconds after the stones which had ripped through the Citadels’ innards had spent their energies, the upper levels began to crumble, and the building folded on itself beneath a looming cloud of dust.

The men who had brought this destruction to Lucia were already at the cities gate by the time the great pillar of the citadel had crumbled, and as the dust fell over its broken body like a giant’s shadow they were long gone.

*

EDIT: Made a few slight alterations to this prologue as per recommendations from Dakarne, I now realise that the three day estimate for the next chapter was a tad optimistic. However, I have not given up on this, oh no, I just have no idea when I will finally get a version of chapter 2 that's fit to be seen.
Last edited by speaker-to-trolls on Mon Jul 26, 2010 2:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Little monuments may be completed by their first architects, but great ones; true ones leave their copestones to posterity. God keep me from completing anything."
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Re: Knighthood: A Tale of the Fourth Sphere

Post by Czernobog »

Wow. That's...epic.
You have ruled this galaxy for ten thousand years.
You have little of account to show for your efforts.
Order. Unity. Obedience.
We taught the galaxy these things.

And we shall do so again.
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Re: Knighthood: A Tale of the Fourth Sphere

Post by Somes J »

Speaker To Trolls, that is indeed awesome.
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Re: Knighthood: A Tale of the Fourth Sphere

Post by Mobius 1 »

It's a shame I haven't been keeping up with Fourth Sphere, because I think this thread really is an interesting comparison - the short is still as bare-bones plot wise as Kamin's original, but it goes to show how much of a difference supreme description can make. The prose isn't purple, but it's definitely substantial. You get the feel and flavor, and it's a lesson Kamin really should take to heart.

It is, I think just one half of what could make Kamin a better writer: showing him how to show, not tell, and from there, teaching him how to write plots that go beyond the usual Kamin Brand War. Everyone wins, I think.
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