#Amwriting #writerslife Twitter appears to be blocking me from re-tweeting, claiming they have made a mistake. Now an internal server error when I try again.

I disagreed with a woman about these parties when you Tweete, re-tweet and then follow them, pointing out that I prefer people to follow me, by choice.

She then muted me; I block her and now Twitter blocks me from re-tweeting.

I don’t need Tweeter nor false followers.

I choose to follow for my own reasons and not to build up numbers of followers.

I have actually been doing some work and I will post some below but it is not a lot and I still have to add dialogue … still back on structure to be honest.

Dave

Masketh Tron and Sallesh Tron watched the entourage finally move from Toshon and followed at a distance. Already they could see the rocks rising and falling to the south and the ground moving again as it changed. Rivers were forming to the east and north with the sea flowing in from the west and south but more rocks rising to the south.
Their thoughts – read by Sheba Roc and Liand Roc on their progress didn’t progress to Stefen or Martan Matira. It was Griselda’s frequent stops as they tried to move as fast as they could that were causing the hold-ups and Michelle du Storme was riding closer to Griselda and talking urgently to her.
Griselda initially attributed her sickness to the Stasis chamber but the stops became more frequent and people were moving away from Griselda as she vomited. One of the problems in waiting for the Stasis chambers had been the lack of access to various pills that Griselda would normally have taken to avoid unfortunate problems with her love life. Now it seemed her sex life was producing yet another unfortunate problem and the presence of Michelle du Storme was also proving a handicap to Basil Droga and Gereft the Guard Leader for their appearances in her bed but they faced another handicap and one that would not vanish overnight even if Michelle left her alone.
Masketh and Sallesh requested the Wolfen to help with meat supplies so Barlang and Furlong drove some cattle to the evening camp and then quickly ripped the throats out of the animals. Needless to say, anyone with an appetite soon lost it as the Wolfen butchered the meat.
The Trons realised they’d have to find an alternative after that but come the morning and an empty stomach morning fires were blazing and the meat was on spits although Griselda was having trouble eating anything and there was still a hundred mile to travel to Matira. Eventually they made broth for Griselda and alongside the spits were some cracked Stasis chamber lids they had been using to drag loads on. The Stasis lids were an egg-shape to allow for a variety of customers and now served as boilers as the horses and travellers carried more.
One issue that did bother them was the bombs that hit the western prisoners camp. Although the water washed away the radiation they could still feel the land moving and it was continuing to move and land upheavals were increasing in strength. The tremors never stopped; the seas never stopped and the rocks to the south were disintegrating and almost moving to the south where new rocks seemed to be forming to join them.
The whole planet was dancing and not to the invaders’ tune but even as they watched the rocks to the north and the west moving they could see sections of Stefen’s castle falling down and rocks to the south of his castle were rising as was Griselda’s stomach although it fell after she was sick and they now started to run rather than complain from Griselda as well as the geography as they ran, dragging the meat filled Stasis chamber lids behind them.
What should have been a direct route ahead now meant facing rocks and ahead of them a large hole with water filling it and the hole in some parts was now beyond anyone guess as to its size. The only route for the migrants now was to veer north as there seemed to be no way forward to the east but even that was changing as land-quakes rose some areas and sank others but one thing was sure and that was the whole landscape was changing.
The bombs had set off a change-reaction beneath the surface which may have taken a while to finally erupt; long after they thought it had finished but to say they staggered and now ran was an understatement – they staggered from side to side as the country twisted and tore itself apart.
A trip of a hundred miles was now a detour to the north and thirty miles longer at least and increasing according to the Trons and finally after Sheba Roc took off they learnt the water blocking them to the west was twenty five mile long and up to five miles wide and the rocks moving together gave them very little time to decide anything as water and rocks were rising to the south and they were speeding to the north.
As they turned left and headed ten miles they could now see the sea some hundred foot short of the road. The sea receeded as they changed direction and moved to the east which was now green to the north but with rocks rising to the south. Griselda, herself was still rocky and progress was slow until finally the mountains to the north migrated to green and conifers whilst the rocks to the south seemed marginally smaller.
It took another stormy night before they past the last set of rocks and face a road leading north whilst a mile ahead another road led east and the arguments started.
Eventually it took Griselm and his sword plus Guards who seemed to be staying closer to him and Griselda and all the women to calm things down. Griselda Matira was waving her bridal knife; Alisia – Admiral Matira’s mistress was talking to the most strident and Michelle du Storme who seemed to bring peace wherever she was involved was speaking to the leaders – eventually, they continued to head east.

In Matira, Martan watched the waters swirling around the causeway and towards his castle and the water was still rising. He watched the crowds making their way with a degree of haste from the castle as the waters swirled in; the foundations linking the castle to the land swayed and vanished into the water with the castle slightly behind them as it sank and the cattle were already ahead of them and for a change they followed the cattle.
He turned back to look as the island the castle resided on disappeared until only the top turrets showed above the sea and the seas washed in as they ran to be ahead of the cattle through the narrow decreasing gap towards the camp and the remains of a road and there were no friends in that camp … they were Destraight not Astoria!

Advertisements
Posted in Adventure, Authors, Book, Books, cirencester, Cotswolds, Fantasy, Fiction Writing, Literary Agents, Thriller, Writing, Writing Novels | Leave a comment

#amwriting #amwritingfantasy re-write thoughts

I started to write this; got called off to hang the washing up; pans were overheating then getting stuff out of the freezer, which ended up reorganising it and people think that writing is a challenge.

The problems of losing half a book still plague me.

Martan was killed by Stefen before Griselda was pregnant and Griselda gave birth to children from Stefen; rewrite; Griselda is pregnant because she was put in custody prior to the Stasis chamber insertion on Dwarvia to check her out and that meant no birth control pills.

If I’m going to rewrite this, then it will be rewritten.

Dave

Admirals were forced into political marriages however they usually sought mistresses and they often didn’t care whose. The families normally found out and forced them out as the families considered political goals of more importance than mere enjoyment … possibly one reason why some many Admirals spent their lives invading other planets. Eventually the Admirals realised that whilst you couldn’t take your wife into space with you, you could certainly take a mistress and go flash bang in the Armada Class ship whilst you practised your assaults. Their mistresses then tended to live on the ships and the ship brains in the Armada Class ships usually preferred the Admirals to handle their mistresses as opposed to the Admiral’s sticky hands on their controls and so the mistresses were hidden and survived.

Stefen still watch them leave and stayed looking until he was sure no-one had turned back. With the waters receding most of the causeway should to all intents and purposes have ceased to exist – it was now just land.
There was still a five mile long gap of about half a mile wide leading from Toshon to Matira but on the south side of what had been the causeway rock you had the impression it was watching you. Nervous, twitching but the feeling of it watching you was something that almost made the rocks sentient.
They stretched some ten miles to the south and it was a few days hard walking to get to the five mile gap and Stefen intended for them to walk it … it would keep them out of trouble although he packed enough women to make their own choices and there weren’t very many!
Stefen had been neither helpful with transport or food despite Griselda producing her marriage knife and threatening him …. mind you, she had also threaten the few animals he had released for her trip but his Guards saw her on her way with the clubs they carried.
Stefen with forethought had his own personal Guards carrying weapons to protect him and they were needed when Griselda again tried to attack him with her marriage knife and had it clubbed from her hand but the long chain around her neck still held it to her as did the Guard who pulled back around her neck and shortened it … Stefen later regretted telling the Guard to release it as she struggled and appeared in a better colour to his mind as she choked.
The Guards before realising they could only use clubs had first tried to use their old weapons and Stefen had also tried to use the power from the Stasis chambers to charge them but the first a Guard who tried it found he and the Stasis inhabitants exploded – in future he would let the dwarfs out first. It had seemed as easy thing to just connect a cable and then connect that to a weapon, mind you, still Stefen with his usual honesty had someone else do this while he stood a good distance away.
When your weapons cease to exist the alternatives are wood or stone clubs but some of the Prisoners were already starting to look for metal and roughly melt it down into shapes but they weren’t giving them to the Admirals.

There are times to choose to greet a wife but Martan would never, ever, of his own free will choose to meet Griselda as a wife nor of anything else that had any value to him including his private areas … he’d never been interested in her leaving her Stasis chamber alive … had he’d been given the chance, he’d have smashed the lid, letting her sink to the depths she had yet to explore as was her due and stood on her Stasis Chamber until it sunk.
Sheba Roc stopped him – something she might regret as the magic, might not be part of Griselda Matira’s make-up but it was certainly latent in her; curling her eyelashes to match the sneer of her mouth and now a broomstick had turned up through a vortex that swirled in colours and so did the broomstick – some emotions can stretch beyond a small area and somehow Griselda’s had.
Stefen for himself preferred not see her at all and especially her semi-sentient broomstick which he thought would eventually erupt as it tried to force its way into everything but already Griselda or the broomstick had found Rafus who’d dipped his beard into magic and now understood the smell of burning whilst they poured water onto him, which was more than they could do for his brain.
Still there was little they could do to reduce her violence which was never latent and Stefen had no intention of doing anything but passing her on as far away as he could.
For a husband of Griselda Matira, Martan usually managed a brief greeting as her escaped.
Her idea of a bloody honeymoon metabolised and only failed to come to fruition with her then ruling your kingdom if you, on your honeymoon watch her marriage knife which was supposedly meant to be a symbol and not a weapon. It was also not meant to be a full knife!
Stefen in Toshon had spoken via Liand Roc to Sheba Roc who allowed him to see Martan’s visions of Griselda on a wedding night and Stefen although he wasn’t eating that often didn’t eat afterwards for some time. For Stefen, even when Griselda was viewed from a distance she still maintained the pressure for her departure to somewhere else at maximum speed to be a priority.
For Martan, the times when Martan wished to meet Griselda were usually when he carried a spade or shovel and faced a deep hole with a bomb in it … still to put his mind into perspective he was going to have to face her if she didn’t die on the way and he’d paid enough for there to be trouble.
A pity he’d never thought that Sheba Roc would talk to Liand Roc who talked to the Guards and Stefen. It was like a trouble-making neighbour finding out that all the trouble they were going to cause was known before they started their campaign … but it never changed any of his feelings towards Griselda … they were survival and his other plans had only led to Martan being told off by Sheba Roc; still there was only one bathroom planned for him.
For his guests there would be four bedrooms and a bathroom that never connected to anywhere and so he planned for Griselda to enjoy her privacy … or as much as he could supply. It should be enough to keep Griselda happy, if anything could and as far away from Martan as he could manage.
To find her quarters she would have to go north then west up the stairs then west again and half an hour in a damp and cold castle should cement her armour and keep her well away from him. Martan had re-enforced his bedroom Guard and his mistress would be his first support … he’d even brought in folk singers to keep Griselda back and Michelle du Storme and Basil Droga would be away from him as well.
Of the four spare bedrooms Griselda would have one, then Michelle, then Basil and then Rafus. Gereft would sleep in the barracks with the other Guards although Griselda would probably go through them as well.

Masketh Tron and Sallesh Tron watched the entourage finally move from Toshon and followed at a distance. Their thoughts were read by Sheba Roc and Liand Roc on the progress but one piece of information they didn’t pass on to Stefen or Martan Matira was Griselda’s frequent stops or Michelle du Storme riding closer to her and talking to her.
It would become evident before very long.
Griselda had initially attributed this to the Stasis chamber but the stops were becoming frequent and people were moving away from Griselda as she vomited. One of the problems in waiting for the Stasis chambers was the lack of pills that Griselda would normally take to avoid unfortunate problems with her love life. Now it seemed her sex life was producing yet another unfortunate problem.
The presence of Michelle du Storme was proving a handicap to Basil Droga and to Gereft the Guard Leader but it now appeared that there was another handicap and one that would not vanish overnight.
Masketh and Sallesh requested the Wolfen to help with the meat supplies and Barlang and Furlong drove some cattle to the evening camp and then quickly ripped the throats out of the animals. Needless to say, anyone with an appetite remaining after that, soon lost it as the Wolfen then butchered the meat. The Trons realised they’d have to find an alternative after that but come the morning after an empty stomach night, fires were blazing and meat was on spits although Griselda was having trouble eating anything and there was still a hundred mile to travel to Matira – eventually they were making broth for Griselda and alongside the spits were some cracked Stasis chamber lids they had been using to drag loads on. The Stasis lids were an egg-shape to allow for a variety of customers and now served as boilers as the horses and travellers carried more.

************************************************************************************

I haven’t gone through this bit again so still raw.

*************************************************************************************

Outside of the castle, areas were starting to build up, but not in the way Martan ever intended. To the west were a nest of houses cum hovels cum anything that you could think of. Beyond that to the north was an area now called ‘Mech Town’ and opposite that was an area they called ‘Shady Town’, which he would have demolished in due course but it catered to those needs that he preferred to ignore.
His main problem he felt before they’d found Griselda was Priests moving in and he still didn’t know where they came from. Stefen felt that belief should be in him, not some imaginary Gods but Stefen’s belief in him would have to be enough as no-one else seemed to believe in him.
Gods were appearing or so the new Priests claimed although they claimed anything; especially after several fiery occurrences that scorched opposing Priests – it was fought in the same as they fought for believers in them and most likely not the Gods they represented who’d he’d never heard off but to Stefen’s mind it spoke of magic and nothing and no-one should have magic in any area he controlled. The Priests would find out what fire was before too long. Priests could really live from inspired belief in Gods but a bacon and sausage sandwich in the early hours when you’re really praying for a bite to eat was when you really found belief and to Stefen that represented belief – when he was really hungry he would kill for a bacon and sausage sandwich.
What Gods the priests inspired by doing this might seem a subject for discussion as they bit deeply into the supplicant’s offerings but the Gods the Priests offered their thoughts to were the guys with the trays who ran the late night service to the temples.
Druncheon appeared as the dwarf God although looking like a puppet god and Gods don’t usually wear slippers but he was present in some form or other or so the Priests claimed.
Most Prisoners seemed to have the own Gods – often viewed from the gutter late at night.
Humanoids looked to – Astoron – who seemed to be available, often in a mask surrounded by priests holding him up but belief was usually after a bad day’s trading … especially when you were caught for short measure and short-changing.
Hanging by your thumbs while you balance on your toes to Stefen seemed an enlightened punishment and often encouraged prayer; usually to avoid to hanging the next time by your neck but his Guards did seem to be having an effect these days on the town and its inhabitants.
An Elven God had appeared according to rumour although no-one saw any Elves and the Elven temple never saw anyone but Priests – still it kept them off the streets and money was coming from somewhere.
The were no Gods for the Old Folk who spent too much of their time ducking attackers to consider a God as a defence as they, not Gods, were usually the target … well what use is a God to hide behind when he is transparent and theirs seemed to be but people who were ill tended to find them – the Old Folk, not the Gods but in truth no-one really who where the old folk came from
Some said they were bodies taken over by Humoids. Others said No. Their Wolfen, whilst others claimed they were bodies taken over by Elves. All Stefen knew was that the Prisoners seemed to spend a lot of time hunting them or seeking help. They were rumoured to be telepathic and always had blue eyes but some seemed to be dwarfs whilst others were considered to be humanoid but whether they existed or not everyone claimed to have some story concerning them.
The Old Folk’s culture, if they really existed seemed to be to help Prisoners and a lot of Prisoners were considered to have sort help, often in the shape of little jars but as rumours spread so the descriptions of them changed until they were now considered blue eyed, small, more sinew than muscle and usually lived by the sea.
To Stefen they seemed a myth but his hatred of magic led him and his Guards to seek them out but again and again they found empty houses which they then destroyed who Stefen never knew how they managed to stay one jump ahead of his Guards.

Posted in Adventure, Book, Books, cirencester, Cotswolds, Fantasy, Fiction Writing, Literary Agents, novels, Planning Writing, Publishers, Romance, Science Fiction, Thriller, Writing, Writing Novels, Writing Research

#amwriting #amwritingfantasy To say I’m still working on stuff is to image Death taking a holiday and we are both on duty

I won’t have things right for longer we might live.

I should be developing things but my head says, you know what you doing.

Every-time I look at stuff I should have written it more … you define it … this is from a hobbyist old age pensioner who can still think.

Eventually I will stop typing but hopefully, not for a new years.

Hope you like it.

Dave

 

Admirals were forced into political marriages however they usually sought mistresses and they often didn’t care whose. The families normally found out and forced them out as the families considered political goals of more importance than mere enjoyment … possibly one reason why some many Admirals spent their lives invading other planets. Eventually the Admirals realised that whilst you couldn’t take your wife into space with you, you could certainly take a mistress and go flash bang in the Armada Class ship whilst you practised your assaults. Their mistresses then tended to live on the ships and the ship brains in the Armada Class ships usually preferred the Admirals to handle their mistresses as opposed to the Admiral’s sticky hands on their controls and so the mistresses were hidden and survived.

Stefen still watch them leave and stayed looking until he was sure no-one had turned back. With the waters receding most of the causeway should to all intents and purposes have ceased to exist – it was now just land.
There was still a five mile long gap of about half a mile wide leading from Toshon to Matira but on the south side of what had been the causeway rock you had the impression it was watching you. Nervous, twitching but the feeling of it watching you was something that almost made the rocks sentient.
They stretched some ten miles to the south and it was a few days hard walking to get to the five mile gap and Stefen intended for them to walk it … it would keep them out of trouble although he packed enough women to make their own choices and there weren’t very many!
Stefen had been neither helpful with transport or food despite Griselda producing her marriage knife and threatening him …. mind you, she had also threaten the few animals he had released for her trip but his Guards saw her on her way with the clubs they carried.
Stefen with forethought had his own personal Guards carrying weapons to protect him and they were needed when Griselda again tried to attack him with her marriage knife and had it clubbed from her hand but the long chain around her neck still held it to her as did the Guard who pulled back around her neck and shortened it … Stefen later regretted telling the Guard to release it as she struggled and appeared in a better colour to his mind as she choked.
The Guards before realising they could only use clubs had first tried to use their old weapons and Stefen had also tried to use the power from the Stasis chambers to charge them but the first a Guard who tried it found he and the Stasis inhabitants exploded – in future he would let the dwarfs out first. It had seemed as easy thing to just connect a cable and then connect that to a weapon, mind you, still Stefen with his usual honesty had someone else do this while he stood a good distance away.
When your weapons cease to exist the alternatives are wood or stone clubs but some of the Prisoners were already starting to look for metal and roughly melt it down into shapes but they weren’t giving them to the Admirals.

There are times to choose to greet a wife but Martan would never, ever, of his own free will choose to meet Griselda as a wife nor of anything else that had any value to him including his private areas … he’d never been interested in her leaving her Stasis chamber alive … had he’d been given the chance, he’d have smashed the lid, letting her sink to the depths she had yet to explore as was her due and stood on her Stasis Chamber until it sunk.
Sheba Roc stopped him – something she might regret as the magic, might not be part of Griselda Matira’s make-up but it was certainly latent in her; curling her eyelashes and now a broomstick had turned up through a vortex that swirled in colours and so did the broomstick – some emotions can stretch beyond a small area. Stefen preferred not see her and her broomstick which he thought would eventually erupt was the now pulsating broomstick was trying to force its way into everything.
Already she had found Rafus who’d dipped his beard into magic and now understood the smell of burning whilst they poured water onto him, which was more than they could do for his brain. Something that could not be said for her violence which was never latent.
Being a husband of Griselda Matira usually meant a brief greeting as you escaped with your life after her idea of a bloody honeymoon metabolised and failed to come to fruition with her then ruling your kingdom.
Stefen in Toshon had spoken via Liand Roc to Sheba Roc who allowed him to see Martan’s visions of Griselda on a wedding night and Stefen although he wasn’t eating that often didn’t eat afterwards for some time. For Stefen, even when Griselda was viewed from a distance she still maintained the pressure for departure to somewhere else at maximum speed.
The times when Martan wished to meet Griselda were usually when he carried a spade or shovel and faced a deep hole with a bomb in it … still to put his mind into perspective he was going to have to face her if she didn’t die on the way and he’d paid enough for there to be trouble. A pity he’d never thought that Sheba Roc would talk to Liand Roc who talked to the Guards and Stefen.
It was like a trouble-making neighbour finding out that all the trouble they were going to cause was known before they started their campaign … but it never changed any of his feelings towards Griselda … they were survival and his other plans had only led to Martan being told off by Sheba Roc; still there was only one bathroom planned for him.
For his guests there would be four bedrooms and a bathroom that never connected to anywhere and so he planned for Griselda to enjoy her privacy … or as much as he could supply.
It should be enough to keep Griselda happy, if anything could and as far away from Martan as he could manage. To find her quarters she would have to go north then west up the stairs then west again and half an hour in a damp and cold castle should cement her armour and keep her away from him.
Martan had re-enforced his bedroom Guard and his mistress would be his first support … he’d even brought in folk singers to keep Griselda back and Michelle du Storme and Basil Droga would be away from him as well. Of the four spare bedrooms Griselda would have one, then Michelle, then Basil and then Rafus. Gereft would sleep in the barracks only with the other Guards although Griselda would probably go through them as well.
Stefen had kindly sent a Guard and a dwarf with Griselda … they would be used to ensure she was suitably escorted.

Posted in Adventure, Authors, Book, Books, cirencester, Cotswolds, Fantasy, Fiction Writing, killing, Literary Agents, Love, novels, Planning Writing, Publishers, Thriller, Writing, Writing Novels, Writing Research

#amwriting #amwritingfantasy bear in mind still working on idea

A lot I can say but not really. Still trying to clean up and take things from skeleton ideas to actual words.

dave

There are times to choose to greet a wife but Martan would never, ever of his own free will, choose to meet Griselda as a wife nor had he ever been interested in her ever leaving a Stasis chamber alive – he would, had he been given the chance. have smashed the lid and let her sink; Sheba Roc stopped him – something she might regret as magic might not be part of Griselda Matira’s make-up but it was certainly latent in her; something that could not be said for her violence which was never latent … being a husband of Griselda Matira usually meant a brief greeting as you escaped with your life after her idea of a honeymoon as she then ruled … Stefen in Toshon had spoken via Liand Roc to Sheba Roc who allowed him to see Martan’s visions of Griselda on a wedding night and Stefen wasn’t eating that often but he didn’t eat afterwards for some time.

Posted in Adventure, Authors, Book, Books, cirencester, computers, Cotswolds, Fantasy, Fiction Writing, Literary Agents, novels, Planning Writing, Publishers, Science Fiction, Thriller, Writing, Writing Novels, Writing Research

#amwriting #amwritingfantasy I’m changing the flow and a few other things

When I started to rethink the middle section of the story and I haven’t stopped yet, I decided to change a few things that will change things I have already written and now I am re-thinking and at the moment am caught between Martan and Stefen Matira and who has the women.

Griselda is married to Martan but the mistresses were originally Stefen’s. Natomi was originally Martan’s 2nd wife after Griselda left him having failed to kill Natomi – it is a little tricky given that I wrote large chunks of the story before I lost the two disks … it screwed everything as I then started to rewrite Astoria from the beginning.

Not complete or thought out, just sketched and even the thoughts don’t flow consistently but I thought it might be of interest.

Dave

The Admirals in their arrogance felt they’d taken over and that was that. They would rule and everyone else would obey and with the shackled prisoners whom they thought only they could release to bondage linked to their own personal key would provide the labour.
The reality was the bombs had triggered so much upheaval that the Admirals had redesigned Destraight from one connected landmass to a series of various shaped islands.
Altogether they have dropped twenty five nuclear bombs – five of them dirty. Water now reigned supreme. Destraight at a surface level now was a series of islands – some big, some small and some nowhere at all after the bombs hit. Gone was the landmass and a lot of people – gone completely.
Luckily the sweeping seas hadn’t only taken people but the radiation as well however fish were definitely off all menus … who wants to capture brightly flashing fish that might complain if you eat them. Some green areas had risen from the sea and stayed above sea-level; a stretch of water from Peter Jamesson’s castle to virtually the causeway with Matira also stayed firmly in place.
A further problem was that none of the Admirals possessed their keys and they’d locked them into Stasis immediately so they couldn’t find the previous Admiral’s keys.
Despite their threats they’d put their relatives into Stasis chambers to join the family. They didn’t consider their relatives to be of use but forced to look after them under Dwarvish custom that required honouring them and so they put them in cabinets for everyone’s honour and to avoid family gatherings.

Over the next few years the floods eventually receded although the western prisoners were destroyed by Sir Percival de Bowed’s dirty bombs which also destroyed a major part of the west coast. So much in face that Sir Percival’s castle was now ten mile further to west with sea between it and the rest of what had been considered Destraight.
The land-quakes generated by the bombs had seen to that … two dirty bombs bracketing your castle to the east was enough for the land to push to the west but the causeway- further south – remained and, if anything, seemed to be wider – it was now ten miles wide until it narrowed as you approached Matira and then became Matira properly.

At its Toshonian end it was escorted to the south by a mountain range – an area now inhabited by Wolfen, Rock Trolls and Roc birds and not an area for the faint-hearted or anyone with blood still pumping in their veins.
Stefen Matira, who’d bombed Martan Matira had abandoned the castle and town he bombed, moving over the causeway to slowly built a new castle in Toshon – his bombing of the Matira castle and town had left nothing but his own stupidity. His new castle was fairly elaborate and he used the new prisoners to build it – it was unlike the computer glitched buildings from the first planet landing and it possessed more than a habitable floor and its castle walls went for ever in every direction as he dreamed and expected the starving and homeless to consider him a God as he shelled out pennies and took the rest. He did however use his slave labour to build homes.
His castle was supervised by the Hounds and his Guards and needed to be; his greed was making him more and more enemies. Stefen’s castle now nestled with the rocks stretching from the south-west to the south-east for as far as the eye could but with the salt lake, there was still only a single waggon path to Matira across the far end of the causeway which made it impassable as no-one on it could give way to someone else without their waggon going into the sea. They’d named the east side Matira and the west side Toshonia.

The only other route to anywhere from Matira was in reality to the waters in front of the Lodge with Peter Jamesson’s castle across the other side. You needed a ferry north to the Lodge and you could then walk to reach his lands as the waters to the north had receded to the east.

The Lodge was now accessible to the degree that it was inhabited by four thousand prisoners and a thriving town was building up again around the Lodge as other prisoners flocked to it but a dirty bomb had landed some fifteen miles to the east and water had swept in and covered the site leaving the Lodge’s only routes to the north and to Peter Jamesson who’d removed David Jamesson however it also left a lot of bodies that floated in the sea and brought in mud and sludged and buried most of the town – it was still being cleared and it was the only town being cleared.

Peter Jamesson’s land was now stretching from the east until it found Argus du Storme’s castle in the west. It would have stretched down to even south-west had Stefen Matira now moved his prisoners and started to build fortifications.
Peter Jamesson called his territory Ascania whilst Marcel Droga who’d removed Marcel Droga spent most of his time trying to hang onto his undefinable properties to the north-east and the only names he thought of are those usually paraphrased using the 2nd level of the keyboard as he considered the flooding and raised mountains that wiped out most of his proposed land-grab from the other Admirals.

As work progressed with the prisoners the Admirals noticed that there were less and less prisoners and the prisoners now started to put significant ‘P’ – almost taking it – in front of the term ‘prisoners’, calling themselves ‘Prisoners’ – almost as a badge of honour but there were less and less each day.

They were still noticing things when three Rocs picked them up and they like the previous Admirals needed some laundry undertaken.
Even their socks were full as they Rocs carried them off to the north of the Lodge where the same Roc Court now sat again and like their fellow Admirals, three of them now found a Roc in their heads.
Sheria Roc now spoke to compose the court, “ … these Admirals have destroyed our families, friends and our allies. Our Courts work on justice and their true intentions. Hohan Roc, Mishan Roc and Liand Roc have now bonded with them so we may hear their thoughts and not their words. This Court is in session and to lie is death.”
Sheria Roc, said the Matron Roc, “You fail to mention the wanton destruction without meaning of these dwarfs. They killed without thought or care, allies and other beings … most Rocs would demand instant death for even one of their crimes.”
“I do not forget Matron, but we kill them them, then others will rise and kill us. We are, courtesy of these Admirals a declining race and we must live with what we have. I do not defend them nor ask for mercy for them. I am empowered by this court to find justice for the Roc nation.”
“I think you presume too much, Sheria Roc. This court will decide and so will I. We have large debts to be repaid and these Admirals will repay them.”
“I would remind you, Matron Roc that we have three Rocs were now senseless because of these arrivals. When they put their relatives to sleep they also put. Sheba Roc, bonded to Martan Matira; Tona Roc, bonded to James Droga and Alexa Roc bonded to David Jamesson into a mindless state. None of them had any warning to unable them to unbond!”
“I do not need you, Sheria Roc to tell me of the sins of these Admirals. This Court is in session and it will judge the Guilty!”
Marcel Droga, Stefen Matira and Peter Jamesson now found themselves with their minds wide open, whether they wanted it or not.
They had bombed, destroyed and did not care who they killed.
They considered themselves above the law but there is always a higher law and now they faced everything of their minds made public.
The Admirals now heard voices in their heads, “We find you guilty of wanton killing; guilty of destroying our lives. You are Guilty of everything charged. Your sentence is death. Your bonded Rocs will take you up; unbond from you and then release you to your just deserts. Do you have any thoughts in mitigation?”
“We own this planet!” Shouted Marcel Droga, “… we gave this planet life!”
“In fact, Marcel Droga, you killed people because you didn’t care. You killed because you did not consider the prisoners to be dwarfs. You killed out of arrogance. You gave nothing but death and a feeling that you could and would control. You and your Admirals do not control. We; Rocs, know how to live with others … I think you; Admirals, do not know how to live with anyone,” those are my the thoughts said Matron Roc, “I ask for a final verdict and judgement from the Roc Court.”
“The verdict is death,” was the call from the Roc Court.
Sheria Roc now mind-melded with the Matron Roc, “We need their minds … we can take revenge later … I feel we can control and use them but I wish I knew how. They are sentenced; if you allow it, to death but we need to re-seed our people and killing the Admirals will not rebirth our people. I ask that you grant clemency with bonding to further our people’s recovery.”
“The verdict of this court is death, Sheria Roc. Three of the Roc family are now unconscious and dying … they have been sentenced to death!”
“Would you sentence Tona Roc, Alexa Roc and Sheba Roc to death to atone for these Admirals. Make them release James Droga, David Jamesson and Martan Matira from those Stasis chambers; we can execute this court’s decision at anytime.”
The Matron now spoke to the Court, “Your decision was final. Do you allow for suspension of sentence?”
There was nothing for a long time and for the Admirals, just another bowel clearing exercise before the Court thought through its decision and decided, “The decision of death can be set aside by you, Matron and only by you. These people will respect the Roc nation. They will release the Admirals they displaced, who learnt to live with others. Yes the bonds with all Admirals may stay and we will as Rocs find the remaining Trons and Minuets. The Wolfen, Humoids, Rock Trolls and these dwarfs should know that the Elves are already here and their hatred of the dwarf nation is more than we as a court can judge but they need to make their peace with the Elves as well as with anyone else and we do not feel that is possible although to free our brethren is something we seek to achieve.”

Reality for the Admirals followed a plunge into the sea as the Rocs picked them up and then to give them an awareness, dropped them from twenty feet into the sea lakes near Perter Jamesson’s castle.
As the cleaner Admirals struggled to the surface they were picked up again and left hanging from Roc claws that flew in different directions … Rocs don’t forget and in this case, nor would Admirals as the Rocs broadcast their thoughts to the world.
The Admirals now knew their plans weren’t plans anymore but dried out laundry. They couldn’t even tell themselves they had won as everyone knew they had lost and they also found their thoughts shared between themselves. This shocked them more than anything as imbred into every dwarf was the need to hide your thoughts for preservation.
The reconciliation board they called it and when it met, comprised the three Trons who represented the prisoners, and the three Admirals with Percival de Bowed and Argus du Storme excluded. There were six Minuets taking notes for both sides with the Tron leaders also acting as telepathic links between the Admirals which frightened them to a degree as the Trons didn’t edit the true thoughts of the Admirals before they past them on but it worked in a fashion as three groups monitored what was transmitted.
Honesty, when all the subtle games you thought to play are made public and documented by the Minuets makes everyone laugh at you and you don’t like to be laughed at but life moved on and so did the Prisoners – a now generic term for people on Destraight who built their own kinds of life and worked to build their own dreams above, in, and under the surface of Destraight.
The Admirals faced reality; an experience in blasting people to smithereens; wiping out their planets and then governing was not going to happen. They had no idea on controlling countries, they usually just destroyed them and they were now bonded to Rocs who watched their every thought but were also available to transport them.

Between the three Admirals and the Prisoners an agreement was made. Martan Matira, David Jameson and James Droga moved to the Lodge which still faced being partially surrounded by water on three sides was fairly secure. Only the north side was free of water and it had evolved into a small town with some buildings slowly evolving in height capacity and the Lodge was self-governing. Trees, fresh water, vegetation surrounded it and the seas cut if off from most attackers.
The Rocs had taken refuge in some rocks to the north but often made their presence known. Elsewhere the Rocs, Trons, Wolfen and some large Cats were gathering around centres but conflict was beckoning on all species.
Sir Percival de Bowed would never find anyone gathering around his centre and Argus du Storme in his castle was now buried completely. The computer glitches had created it underground but the bombs had ensured it was completely underground. It would not be rising soon.

With the waters receding most of the causeway to all intents and purposes had ceased to exist. There was still a five mile long gap of about half a mile wide that led from Toshon to Matira but on the south side of what had been the causeway rock was stretching for some ten miles to the south.
Stefen Matira’s castle was on the north edge of the rock but the old prisoner’s camp, some ten miles to the north-west was still under water with Stasis cabinets floating to the surface; some cracked and flooded with water, others with movement inside but no water and the tides were lodging them on the beach to the east of the old prisoner’s camp.
The nuclear debris had been washed away but fishing was not encouraged in case the fish started arguing after the radiation.
The chambers were piling up and those full of water were pushed back into the sea for an easy burial. Some however had opened and dwarfs were now moving about on the beach and recognising each other although the expressions on their faces told a different story.
Machael Jamesson and his wife – Amanda had been found; so had Basil Droga and also Griselda Matira.
Gereft – one of the few Guards that Stefen trusted was in charge of the Guards who found them on the beach and made a point of helping Griselda Matira … as if he felt that Griselda needed help?
Stefen had always liked the quirky layout of Martan’s castle in Matira and followed the design for the castle in Toshon. His own bedroom was to the west of the castle whilst the rest of the bedrooms were to south-west. His bedroom had secret ways in every way and escape played a major part in his thinking.
Being bound to a Roc was not a safeguard as others weren’t bound and the Roc usually preferred the company of the other Rocs in the mountains to the south and the touch on his mind was often like a feather in its embrace.
Outside of the castle areas were starting to build up but not in the way he ever intended. He’d kept an area directly outside of the castle as a plaza and that was to the east of the main castle entrance. To the west were a nest of houses cum hovels cum anything that you could think of. Beyond that to the north was an area now called ‘Mech Town’ and opposite that was an area they called ‘Shady Town’, which he would have demolished in due course but it catered to those needs that he preferred to ignore.
His main problem he felt, before they found Griselda was Priests were moving in and he still didn’t know where they came from. Stefen felt that belief should be in him, not some imaginary Gods.
To add to his problems, three of other chambers contained Alisia, Natomi and Donina. Alisia had been his favourite mistress until his family forced him to betroth Natomi, force Alisia away and he had then turned to Donina for comfort … which he felt had been supplied. Alisia, faced by a new wife and a new mistress had moved far away … Stefen’s thoughts now, were who put all three into Stasis – he certainly didn’t, so who had.

Stefen faced with Griselda, two mistresses and a betrothed wife asked Liand Roc whether she could speak to Sheba Roc and offered Martan the castle in Matira if he would take Griselda off his hands and rebuild the castle.
It took some time for Martan to respond. If he accepted he would get back the lands he’d lost but he would also get Griselda and that was something he didn’t want but it meant the Stefen would control Toshon and he would control Matira and that seemed a good idea as the floods had receded and the castle was free, even if it only had one floor.
Stefen felt this would leave him with a potential wife who he decided could also join Martan and his first mistress could also be sent on her way, leaving him with Donina and Martan with Griselda, Alisia and Natomi … it seemed a fair exchange and he included Basil Droga as a make-weight plus Gereft as a Guard for the party – it should keep everyone happy but mainly him.
Martan was happy to leave the Lodge. Most of the time it felt like a prison and the castle at least gave him some independence although without Guard or a town there was really nothing until as he and Sheba Roc came into land and he found the Prisoners who survived the latest Admiral attacks had now built around the castle and with Sheba Roc he was able to speak to Tolan Tron and Yogush Tron who’d survived the floods and the havoc but when you are seven foot high, five foot long and two foot wide you can make your point occasionally and the Trons did.

The point was however things were changing, the Stasis cabinets should have remained as unchanged as did the thoughts of the Admirals on awakening their relatives.
The Admirals liked a good ‘Wake’ as much as anyone especially for unwanted relatives and these relatives should have stayed buried in the chambers but Sir Percival de Bowed’s dirty bombs aimed at the Toshon prisoners and Stasis chambers not only fractured the units but the waters moving in washed them and floated them.
The Matira’s main worry was Griselda. Griselda was not someone Martan had wished to wake up and he was now safely ensconced in the Lodge, Griselda was a death wish on two and more usually, you saw four legs as she savaged her way through any man who took her fancy and usually killed anyone and basically anything that crossed her path. She slept with anyone who would further her career which was killing and killed those who didn’t shape up.
Martan Matira who’d been the most vocal on her remaining in Stasis and when he heard she was alive he made a request to the bonded Roc … please don’t let her find me!
Stasis was meant to mean ‘complete when they were built … they were never meant to meet their full use in locking your relatives up but the cabinets were virtually indestructible.
The wish of Martan Matira however was that her Stasis cabinet should have sunk or been fractured as the waters came in but hers still existed although swimming in the swell and she was on land before he ever knew.
The only other problems with the Stasis chambers were several other relatives appeared. Peter Jamesson’s brother Michael was resurrected with his wife Amanda.

 

Posted in Adventure, Authors, Book, Books, cirencester, Cotswolds, Fantasy, Fiction Writing, Literary Agents, novels, Planning Writing, Publishers, Thriller, Writing, Writing Novels, Writing Research

#amwriting #amwritingfantasy #writerslife – some more stuff

I’ve written et al quite a bit. So much that the last four days – today was a shopping day – seemed to never end.

I’m changing words and ideas, or am I?

Perhaps I never did more than think them in the first place.

I’ll cut what I can.

This is a raw dump of ideas but I can’t spend the time cutting little bits out. The whole thing is a mismatch but under Scrivener a contained mismatch for just after the second Dwarf Admiral’s attack.

This stuff is just an almighty dump.

Enjoy the bits.

Dave

PART ONE

ASTORIA

1

2

3

4

5

 

James Droga, like the other two Admirals was the regulation height for the Space Navy of 4 foot 2 inches with blue eyes and red hair which indicated he was a pure-blood dwarf but unlike the other two possess a fiery personality and believed he could kill his way out of anything.

To James, the others might meet Navy rules for red hair, black eyes and height restrictions of four foot two inches but they lack the blood on their swords and banners that to a Droga meant pride – pride in the people you killed; the planets you crushed and the prisoners you took even if you never left a spaceship officially during a campaign – it was glory to a family to be in a battle and James was always in some battle or other and usually between the families who ruled. Their families might be bound by ancient bonds or so they claimed but James had a few debts to pay and they wouldn’t appear in his black book and he intended to make sure his co-Admirals didn’t have any fingers left to open a black book – they would be red ones when he’d finished.

Martin Matira whilst matching the regulations was often thoughtful and prepared to compromise if forced.

Slowly, in order of precedence the families entered: Droga; Matira; Jamesson; De Storme; De Bowed, with the minor families then filing in behind them with the triumphant Admirals first: James Droga, Martan Matira and David Jamesson.

Behind were the senior members of the Ruling Families: Justine Droga, Vein Matira, Oswald Jamesson, Wisc de Storme and Sonia de Bowed and even further behind were the senior members of the Minor Families with Joshing de Glop, Merchant de Wonder, Gloria de Geld and Minos de Bolt.

Jon Jun watched them file in with the three Admirals taking the central position in front of him was the Senior and Junior families took the right and left tables respectively.

He waited until they finally settled themselves before beginning with the Elves quietly whispering into his brain and he looked directly at the Admirals.

“On the plus side we have conquered innumerable planets and star systems and wealth has been returning to our system. On the negative side the cost of the wars far exceeds any wealth returning to our system; we also have hundred of thousands of prisoners distributed across Dwarvia with rioting, food shortages and over three hundred thousand dead or missing dwarfs which has led the Chamber to consider this is an urgent issue to be sorted out and therefore this meeting has been called.”

James Droga was the first to respond, “we have brought glory to Dwarvia and if they can’t support us they should shut up!”

Martin Matira looked at James Droga and said, “Let’s hear what else they have to say?”

They both then looked at David Jamesson, “Don’t you have anything to say, David?”

“As Martin said, ‘Let’s hear what else they have to say?’”

6

7

8

 

“I’ll face the Chamber any day, Jon Jun. They won’t touch me or they’ll know what a riot is.”

“I’m sure they already do, Admiral Droga … several riots, I think?”

“Do any of the Ruling or Junior families wish to make a comment. All I have heard so far are Admiral Droga and Admiral Matira?”

A long silence replied to Jon Jun, “Then I must make my report accordingly to the Chamber. This meeting is completed. I have to say that you all seemed to have decided to fall on your swords.”

“You’ll get a sword if you don’t pay respect to the Ruling Family,” shouted James Droga.

“Once again, Admiral Droga you fail to pay respect to the ‘Meeting Room’, now I suggest you all leave as you have nothing to add to this meeting,” Jon Jun watched as the families and Admirals filed out. It had been a wasted time but perhaps not entirely wasted. His report would go to the Chamber and whilst the Ruling Family controlled the votes, enough representatives had lost family killed by the Admirals, especially by James Droga and they wanted revenge.

9

10

11

12

 

The Hell-Cat Heli-phroaters – known at Hell-cats for short were named after a famous Admiral, nicknamed the Hell-Cat for his bedroom adventures. They often sounded like a shower of insects as they circled on auto, kicking up dust; raining fuel on the people beneath them as they were poorly maintained but the Admirals weren’t bothered and the Hell-Cats Heli-phroaters often adopted their owners attitudes to organic lifeforms and tended to ignore them when they landed on top of them.

The planes were said to be as honourable as he was, which meant they might be as fickle in their landings as he was and their manoeuvrability was difficult to control at the best of times however their minds were as sharp as his and often the controls did not perform as he desired which possibly was why their brains requested a transfer just before the ship flew into a cliff with him inboard and no-one else.

Hell-Cats hovered well and could land whether handled by good pilots or not but they then immediately went to their Interstellar Lawyers for being mishandled and groped as the Admirals kept their hands on the joysticks for too long. Their minds, blended into the controls for years had the sensations and emotions of the best but they were able to land their own phroaters and objected to the Admiral’s hands on the controls.

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

 

The Chamber House in a lot of ways resembled an upturned salad bowel. It had been designed by someone with fetish for the colour blue and with the flashing lights on the ceiling it resembled something not normally seen sober.

The roof of the Chamber produced a lot of images as well and during this time as it seemed to have taken on a life of its own often showing images that annoyed the Admirals even more as their ideas became more apparent than they wished but most times it showed stars and not Politicians who thought they were the stars but it would take a long time to destroy Venal Politicians – stars or not although the slaughter during disputes actually became so bad that automatic washing in the Chamber was stopped as bodies floated downwards however the dwarfs at the top didn’t mind that although the sound of the water was also drowning the sound of them out, and that they did mind!

What was unusual for the dwarfs was that they did sometimes worked together until they realised they couldn’t trust anyone, included themselves and this now seemed to be the case as they betrayed each other whilst they thought of the future, or more often of the past and who they couldn’t trust.

It was usually a case of dwarf eat dwarf whether there was any sauce or not as they piled into each other with relish although the blood troughs coped even if they did overflow a little during fierce political debates.

The dwarfs, between attacks did stop for meetings – usually from exhaustion however it was often to plan for the next attack on someone else so the minutes of meetings often only lasted seconds when someone was left standing to apparently take them, yet this time, the clamouring and rioting in the street finally seemed to have made it into the Chamber House which usually ignored any reality but their own enclosed brains and now they needed someone to blame with another planet as a destination for the three Admirals seeming ideal as the political blades went in but they still could not manage the ‘Brutus affect’ and settled for three knife blades rather than seven!

The Circle of Stones was supposedly supreme in the Chamber according to the rules, whenever they were ever followed and no law was supposed to exist without the Ruling families standing within the confines of the stones with everyone else standing out of range but this day Jashine de Glop, Marchant de Wonder, Glosia de Geld and Minous de Bolt were stood alongside Wisc de Storme and Sonia de Bowed within the confines of the Circle of Stones, indicating that power had moved … yes, the misguided Political killings of the Droga, Matira and Jamesson families had, had some effect as they blew up people leaving the Chamber House and claimed it was a political mistake and not their fault that meetings had finished early.

The pictures on the roof were popular with viewers and with split-second updates they became so popular that the commentators became more famous than the Politicians and that created more trouble. Their egos as the failures and losses were often shown as well led to more blood spilt as other families tried to take advantage in the house and blood piped out of the Chamber meant the troughs often running full by the feet of members reminded them to vote according to their conscience or their lives; often on cutting edge voting.

It wasn’t a question of the seventh knife in a politician’s back; they were often struggling to get up to three before someone else stabbed them in the back whilst they were still stabbing another politician.

The Droga’s, Matira’s and Jamesson’s sensing the infighting amongst the smaller dwarf families could never conceive the idea of defeat and immediately launched unsanctioned invasions to test the mettle and resolve of the bodies now apparently governing the Chamber. They’d ruled for years and weren’t going to let this happen over-night, nor over-morning, if they could stop it.

If the three families had their way and they did still control Government as a policy of War then the wars would continue as their lives and wealth were entrenched in war and they felt the Elves as the extreme bureaucratic Uncivil Service would follow their rules as they had the Elves elements twisted more than usually in their favour but one of the problems with dwarfs who feel they control by right is that they forget who controls the Elves who’d served for so long and the Elves were also considering who they controlled.

It wasn’t just their feeling that an obligation had become servitude; they felt exploited and forced into a Bureaucratic Government service due to some long-term obligation that no-one could remember and now were holding their own meetings without blood-letting. Whilst they could kill by force they often felt that boredom could achieve the same results in a meeting, especially if they controlled the Agenda and the Minutes but with the Circle of Stones they were powerless; there the Politicians ruled for the limited time they possessed.

Now they faced the Admirals’ images, “Why have you ignored our summons to be here in person and face this Chamber?”

James Droga immediately replied, “You have no power over us. We rule more worlds than you can dream of. We rule and we just allow you to exist!”

The Chamber jeered, “Get those prisoners onto another planet and not ours!”

James Droga took his time as he stared around him and eventually spoke, “What do you rabble want?”

Glosia de Geld replied, holding up the ‘Circlueta of Power’, “By this token I am elected for this session of the Chamber. You will respect the Circlueta or die.”

“You cannot touch us. We rule, and the Gate will protect us.” said Martan Matira.

“You rule no longer. You have killed and virtually destroyed Dwarvia, Martan Matira. Your images will leave here and your bodies will stay within the confines of the Red Stone Gate until you and your families are sent into space. As you like prisoners so much, sixty thousand of them will accompany you in three ships to the outermost ends of space – you not will return, no matter what you believe. We accept the restrictions of the Red Stone Gate. You will not be harmed.”

“Who are you to say this. You have no authority. We are the Ruling Families!”

“The ‘Circlueta of Power’ gives me that power!”

“I am an image you cannot kill me!”

“You are images, not dwarfs in this chamber but you have killed enough. I am Geld Du Storme and this is Neville De Bowed and by the rights of the Ruling Council – sick of your killing – you will be held in custody until transported – it will take some forty years but you will not be aware of that as you will be put into Stasis until you have travelled at least 20 light years from Dwarvia,” he looked at the roof of the Chamber House as he spoke.

“You cannot hurt us.”

“Yes, you are correct Admiral Droga but for your lack of respect to this Chamber, to sentenced is to be, not only transported but banished – you will be executed should anyone from Dwarvia ever see you. Your bodies will be removed from the cubicles in the the Stone Chamber; frozen, and you and your fellow Admirals will freeze until you are loaded into Stasis. At some point you may learn but it will be one hundred light years from Dwarvia and your immediate families will also be frozen and transported to the ship in Stasis – you will be re-united with your wives and families … it is the least we could do, despite your lack of respect for this Chamber.”.

As their images disappeared they found themselves briefly upright but once again in the Red Stone Gate chamber with the lights once again sparkling as they stood, “you have broken your oath, Gate,” shouted James Droga.

“You live, Droga. My oath was to protect your life. I have accomplished that. Many want you dead, now you will live, even if it is on another planet. You deserve worse, do not push the little good. favour you still have,” the colours on the now began to spin and the Admirals seemed to spin as well as they were laid down on the floor and slept.

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

 

James Droga didn’t have an integrated castle as such. His castle was five away from his Manor House which was ten miles away from the barracks and all moving east leaving his castle fifteen miles from the barracks.

He also found his starched uniforms becoming pliable in the damp atmosphere … all of which he couldn’t remember in his briefing notes but since the notes had been about the size of his underwear, this was unsurprising and one phrase was sticking in his mind, ‘This side of the planet was stated quite incorrectly, to be stable and unchanging’.

34

35

36

37

38

 

Martin Matira’s thoughts as he looked at the causeway and the prisoners behind him were interrupted, “If I may speak, Admiral?”

“Who are you?”

“Rafus Matira, Admiral – a distant relative.”

“Speak, Rafus, but quickly and briefly.”

“You had me revived for my magic, Admiral. There is a cooling spell in my book. I cannot say how long it will last and for how long along the causeway it may function but I could try and use it.”

“What good it would it do?”

“The causeway is probably fifty miles long, Admiral but if we wait until the seas close in from the north, south and west we could as a last resort use the spells to lower the temperature on the causeway even more – it might work, Admiral? It would buy us time if we just wait.”

“With these rocks getting closer to the planet, Rafus that may be all it buys us but I don’t have a better plan.”

39

 

Martan now watched someone from the prisoners behind him move forward and he was a rangy seven foot shape, “My name is Tolan, and if you don’t know, I am a Tron.” As he spoke his voice possessed a clear timbre and those arms if they swung would deliver more power than woodworm and Martan Matira took a good two steps back.

It took a while before Tron spoke again and for a lot of that time he seemed to be mentally somewhere else but eventually he did finally speak, “We don’t have your style of Government, Admiral. We decide together, what will happen.”

“What have you decided?”

“The seas haven’t reached us yet. The causeway is too hot. You have food and we all need to live – we will wait and we will never be friends but we may be able to suffer each other. Some of our winged friends may extract meat from your herd but at a minimum and they will repay that. The choice is yours, Admiral, not ours. We need you but you surely need us more than we need you.”

“Your summary is correct although I don’t know what food we have to offer you?”

“Humanoid flesh will be fine Admiral,” Tolan looked at Admiral Matira’s face, “I was joking Admiral, I actually eat forest insects which are actually very tasty. I suggest we make camp as best we can – some of us will be monitoring the movement of the seas and I don’t think that Rafus’ spells work!”

If Admiral Matira’s neck had stretched even more he would have looked like a newly born ostrich as he tried to draw himself above his four foot two inches but instead he look like someone who spent too long in the starch laundry.

By now the prisoners were laughing; Guards were raising weapons and Tolan raised his hand, “The countryside is trying to kill us. Do we need to kill each other before it arrives?”

“Once again, Tolan, your words make sense. Let’s wait. We can always kill each other if the sea and land doesn’t?”

“We’ve tried enough times, Admiral Matira. If the clock was turned back and we could defeat your weapons, you would be dead but we all live or die together on this planet now! The planet is already trying to kill us which makes a change from your troops.”

“We need to come to an arrangement, Tolan, we have food and we’ll share it. If we work together we can survive, if we don’t, we’ll all die,” he watched as several of the prisoners nodded and began to speak to others.

Fairly obviously there were some prisoners who still didn’t need nor have the ability for speech.

Martan Matira now watched the prisoners on the west side of the causeway as they had headed north and he decided to set up camp.

40

 

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

56

57

58

59

60

61

62

 

They were still noticing things when three Rocs picked them up and they like the previous Admirals needed some laundry undertaken.

Even their socks were full as they Rocs carried them off to the north of the Lodge where the same Roc Court now sat again and like their fellow Admirals, three of them now found a Roc in their heads.

Sheria Roc now spoke to compose the court, “ … these Admirals have destroyed our families, friends and our allies. Our Courts work on justice and their true intentions. Hohan Roc, Mishan Roc and Liand Roc have now bonded with them so we may hear their thoughts and not their words. This Court is in session and to lie is death.”

Sheria Roc, said the Matron Roc, “You fail to mention the wanton destruction without meaning of these dwarfs. They killed without thought or care, allies and other beings … most Rocs would demand instant death for even one of their crimes.”

“I do not forget Matron, but we kill them them, then others will rise and kill us. We are, courtesy of these Admirals a declining race and we must live with what we have. I do not defend them nor ask for mercy for them. I am empowered by this court to find justice for the Roc nation.”

“I think you presume too much, Sheria Roc. This court will decide and so will I. We have large debts to be repaid and these Admirals will repay them.”

“I would remind you, Matron Roc that we have three Rocs were now senseless because of these arrivals. When they put their relatives to sleep they also put. Sheba Roc, bonded to Martan Matira; Tona Roc, bonded to James Droga and Alexa Roc bonded to David Jamesson into a mindless state. None of them had any warning to unable them to unbond!”

“I do not need you, Sheria Roc to tell me of the sins of these Admirals. This Court is in session and it will judge the Guilty!”

Marcel Droga, Stefen Matira and Peter Jamesson now found themselves with their minds wide open, whether they wanted it or not.

They had bombed, destroyed and did not care who they killed.

They considered themselves above the law but there is always a higher law and now they faced everything of their minds made public.

The Admirals now heard voices in their heads, “We find you guilty of wanton killing; guilty of destroying our lives. You are Guilty of everything charged. Your sentence is death. Your bonded Rocs will take you up; unbond from you and then release you to your just deserts. Do you have any thoughts in mitigation?”

“We own this planet!” Shouted Marcel Droga, “… we gave this planet life!”

“In fact, Marcel Droga, you killed people because you didn’t care. You killed because you did not consider the prisoners to be dwarfs. You killed out of arrogance. You gave nothing but death and a feeling that you could and would control. You and your Admirals do not control. We; Rocs, know how to live with others … I think you; Admirals, do not know how to live with anyone,” those are my the thoughts said Matron Roc, “I ask for a final verdict and judgement from the Roc Court.”

“The verdict is death,” was the call from the Roc Court.

Sheria Roc now mind-melded with the Matron Roc, “We need their minds … we can take revenge later … I feel we can control and use them but I wish I knew how. They are sentenced; if you allow it, to death but we need to re-seed our people and killing the Admirals will not rebirth our people. I ask that you grant clemency with bonding to further our people’s recovery.”

“The verdict of this court is death, Sheria Roc. Three of the Roc family are now unconscious and dying … they have been sentenced to death!”

“Would you sentence Tona Roc, Alexa Roc and Sheba Roc to death to atone for these Admirals. Make them release James Droga, David Jamesson and Martan Matira from those Stasis chambers; we can execute this court’s decision at anytime.”

The Matron now spoke to the Court, “Your decision was final. Do you allow for suspension of sentence?”

There was nothing for a long time and for the Admirals, just another bowel clearing exercise before the Court thought through its decision and decided, “The decision of death can be set aside by you Matron and only by you. These people will respect the Roc nation. They will release the Admirals they displaced, who learnt to live with others. Yes the bonds with all Admirals may stay and we will as Rocs find the remaining Trons and Minuets. The Wolfen, Humoids, Rock Trolls and these dwarfs should know that the Elves are already here and their hatred of the dwarf nation is more than we as a court, can judge but they need to make their peace with the Elves as well as with anyone else and we do not feel that is possible although to free our brethren is something we seek to achieve.”

63

64

65

66

67

68

69

70

71

72

73

74

75

76

77

 

78

79

 

80

81

82

 

83

84

85

86

87

88

89

90

91

92

93

94

95

96

97

98

99

100

101

102

103

104

105

106

107

108

109

110

111

112

113

114

115

116

117

118

119

120

121

122

123

124

125

126

127

128

129

130

131

132

133

134

135

136

137

138

139

140

141

142

143

144

145

146

147

Posted in Adventure, Authors, Book, Books, cirencester, Cotswolds, Dictatorship, Family Control, Fantasy, Fiction Writing, novels, Science Fiction, Space, Thriller, Writing, Writing Novels, Writing Research

#amwriting #amwritingfantasy Hope you like it

Just finished yet another re-write of some words.

I just wrote using Scrivener and put chunks into sections of ideas; writing on some things when the ideas were there and switching as my thinking clarified to finally knowing what I was thinking.

Yes, it is called writing on occasions but often, when you cannot get it right, by a few other names.

The whole thing is that the planet is attacked by a new of set Admirals who, in between fighting each other, take time off to kill everyone on the planet.

Sounds almost like life.

Hope you like the dump.

Dave

Orbiting Dwarvia a further group of manacled prisoners entered the Armada Class Prison ships from the ramps the freighters extended. The prisoners were forced to walk single file within oxygen filled metal canopies. They had tried loading them directly from Dwarvia however the prisoners realised what was happening and rioted again. Now they were manacled and neutralised before being shipped up on a twenty four hour basis usually some hastily converted freighters.
The types of prisoner were standard. The Trons – 7 ft telepathic wooden creatures, considered peaceful by the dwarfs but who still invaded their planets. The Minuets – 6 ft telepaths but with eight spindly legs. The Rocs again were telepaths but only 4 ft high, which did not prevent from carrying men and animals off to a great height. The Wolfen were again telepaths but 3 ft high four legged bunches of often violent fur. The Slurms were the most dangerous in terms of ferocity – they preferred darkness but were Snake-like and almost transparent – they were the most feared and were covered with what seemed like a bag but were treated with extreme care as an escaped Slurm would cause havoc on a ship the size of the Armada Class. The remainder were Humanoids, dwarfs and Rock Trolls who no-one could miss, and very seldom did.
The Armada Class ships were finally loaded and moved off.

Thirty light years away, five Armada Class prisoner ships halted. The crews were waking up the Admirals and the news was not good. The engines that should last the forty light years to reach Destraight had virtually failed, leaving five Armada Class Prison ships with malfunctioning engines and they were only ten light years from Dwarvia meaning if they turned around, it would take forty to four hundred years to return to nothing and the same as they had momentum to reach Destraight as the speed now possessed would give them the inertia to eventually reach Destraight but without the ability to keep increasing the speed.
An emergency meeting of Admirals assembled on the Noctra. Marcel Droga from the Lloap; Stefen Matira from the Mastra; Peter Jamesson from the Noctra; Percival de Bowed from the Speca, and Argus Du Storme from the Mightnare.
“Who did it?” Shouted Marcel Droga, “and to all our ships—”
“Someone fixed these ships before we left – they put degraded parts into our systems and they will degrade more as we travel. In essence, we’re abandoned in space.
” Stefen Matira looked around the table, “who set it up?”
“What does that matter, Stefen. It was done, and done before we left! They made sure we weren’t coming back”
“It matters to me, Peter! Who had the ability to sabotage our ships so we are too far from help but reduced to a crawl and there is no chance to an alternative target and what target are we crawling to, I might ask?”
“Anyone of the Peace Party, Stefen. They don’t want us to make people respect force; they want control and to throw away all we achieved … by this, we are out of the way – they expect to rule with no-one to challenge them.”
“Damn Politicians. We had the ability to blast these traitors on Dwarvia—”
“What would be the point, Stefen? How would we prove they’d tried to destroy us and we don’t have the men to attack Dwarvia itself … they planned this in detail—”
“—we’re fighters not damn politicians. We might as well sleep on it and make our own world to Destraight – we’ll just sleep a little longer. It won’t take much to clear it out the refuse that went before us and we have enough prisoners to start the planet life as we decide. At least this time, we have brought women with us to make sure this world breeds good healthy dwarfs who will produce good, healthy children and we will build our own empires as we choose!”
“We just destroy everyone else?”
“Yes.”
“Then we might as well sleep, Marcel.”
The Admirals returned to their own ships and sleep. The crews put the ships on automatic and settled themselves down. They would either arrive or not and no-one monitored anything as they slept on a journey set for an unknown planet with no arrival time and only a desire to kill from the Admirals anyone who was there but they did this in Stasis and dreamt..
Revenge is often a dish best enjoyed cold but often it changes so much over time although it festers, distorts, and is disjointed as it moves through emotion, vision and belief until it almost becomes a religion in its festering state and those Armada Class prison ships were as silent as the grave but the desire for revenge was never stronger in the Admiral’s dreams.
They slowly moved on with the engines failing by the day and it looked as if four hundred years for the journey was optimistic but everything and everyone was shutdown to save energy.
The shields were still there with some force but it seemed only a matter of time before they began to fracture altogether although with everyone in Stasis and everything reduced to a minimum, the power might last out or they would never know if it didn’t!
The Admirals would sleep on their anger and finally all but the crew for the next five years were in the Stasis chambers.
The crew quarters were as always re-reinforced and space suits were available although what use they would be when the bulkheads gave way was anyone’s thought and the crew weren’t thinking about it.
If they were honest, the only I thing that bothered the crew these days was the boredom. The drugs to take away sexual stimuli had been a standard for long space journeys for a long time after several missions had failed as crew killed each other over romantic peccadilloes. Now is was mandatory and lasted for up to fifty years – no wonder you needed pretty colouring books for a long space journey and in the back of the pretty colouring books were the injections for the antidotes but they were designed to last for only twenty four hours, but they were a lot of sales of pretty colouring books.
The strange thing in a way was that without Admirals – maybe just their weight re-distribution, the ships seemed to have moved faster. It should have taken forty years but had at that point taken them thirty light years to travel ten light years, now they were nearing Destraight after a mere seventy light years. Either the space system had changed; the engines had regained power or the planet was never a hundred light years ago … had the Armada Class ship controls been changed to give false readings and was Destraight a lot closer than described … were they in fact just going around in a circle or was everything they knew being modified, including themselves. The Armada Class ships had never been designed for inter-stellar travel, yet according to the records often travelled for over a hundred light years … was something altering the records so it appeared that they did. There was never enough fuel but always enough. People were recycled from Stasis every five to ten years, so any knowledge to-date was lost unless in the records … did the records get updated every-time the last crew went into Stasis.
They finally, according to the records and systems, approached Destraight and now it was time to wake the Admirals … they hid the picture books in the false bulkhead in the crew’s quarters – a standard fitment on most ships that wanted crew and providing you knew, easily accessible. It was one thing to volunteer for a long space flight but no-one ever volunteered to give up sex.
The Admirals finally staggered out of Stasis and swilled large amounts of Swillavill – a bean based mixture that had so many chemicals in it that only animal oxygenated fat hadn’t been added but the crew just watched them froth at the mouth and like the Admirals, it was revolting to their eyes but one of the new rules after the last crew messages came as they were obliterated was to now move to a designated spacecraft that circled all the Armada Class ships and put itself in orbit … they would find their own destinies.

The latest Admirals stayed in the skies – well out of harm – with their Scout Ships mapping the territories and reporting to the five Admirals who sat in a in a tri-sky conference which like a lot of meetings where the same person takes the notes, even if the are only note-bot, only moves in one direction and this was dominated by the Admirals who weren’t even interested in Government bullying via a democracy. Dictatorship was their preference.
They would build their empires and dominate them, as they had dominated so many other planets and their few relatives were safely sealed up in Stasis – not all were volunteers as the Admirals later admitted to themselves but you looked after your family even when they don’t want you to and putting them away for the future was the best way … they would thank them later if they were ever woken from a deep Stasis sleep and you thought they wouldn’t kill you before you killed them. Control was absolute and the Admirals would rule, in between arguing with each other.
To the Admirals the main topic was where to put the Clean Bombs. They didn’t want their planet messed up; just everyone clean everyone out but as with every plan that is fine in theory, none would work in practice. The old prisoners on the planet weren’t in their correct positions which made the Admirals uneasy; there was water where land should be and a dispersed population interfering with their ideas of clean bombs and a clean slate and everyone dead as they took over. It had taken them a while to decide to use a Clean Bomb as most of the Admirals favoured dirty weapons and coming back at some much later point after they had destroyed the planet; there was no chance of coming back to this planet afterwards so they agreed to change the texture of the bomb casings.
This way, when the thermonuclear explosives detonated, the power would not be contained within the warhead but would move ahead of the warhead and explosive force thus reducing the main force but putting the radiation ahead of the bomb while weakening it so the radiation killed people but left the buildings standing and the Admirals loved this idea as they could immediately move in and it wasn’t Scout Ships scouting Destraight but Attack Ships seeking targets and releasing bombs. Some hit the the Lodge; the west prisoner’s camp; Argus du Storme’s castle but two near misses came down near Sir Percival’s own castle and James Droga’s manor.
The Admirals received reports of their own about their own targets and now realised Sir Percival had not returned from his break but they never paid much attention to him as a member of a lower family and he was now on his way to his castle and one Admiral had targeted it too early but that was the Admirals – always rushing a decision although the Admirals would be facing further surprises in the very near future as they had in most cases bombed their future residences and the people living there, in their plan to clear the deadwood – Sir Percival however had tried to bomb the prisoners camps so they didn’t have any prisoners they could use. They would eventually realise the results of their endeavours as they destroyed a planet with clean and dirty bombs for the sake of domination.
The power on the Armada ships was now dropping to various low levels and the Admirals started to understand they had to move or face disaster as their power and the ship’s ran out and they ran for the tubes with protective suits on and down to the polluted planet they had created as all the ships started loosing power but one Admiral had a very limited lifespan if the other Admirals ever found him and Percival de Bowed already on his way to a castle in the north-west was powered by the Admirals’ wishes whilst they were now on their to the castles they had tried to destroy and the people they had destroyed.

Posted in Adventure, Authors, Book, Books, cirencester, Cotswolds, Dictatorship, Fantasy, Fiction Writing, General Discussion, Literary Agents, Planning Writing, Publishers, Science Fiction, Space, Thriller, Writing, Writing Novels, Writing Research