Rouelia

[Flag Pole Sitta]

This is just a piece of writing I may not include in the finale draft, I just wanted people's opinion on my concept. I was talking to my friend and she said it sounded trite, which depressed me because I went to allot of effort to make my world unique. What do you guys think? Also, is Rouelia a dumb name?

Once, long ago, Rouelia was the home of angels, they lived in beautiful golden cities that flew amongst the clouds. These golden cities were not, however, regaled solely to the skies; they would often alit upon the ground and angels would walk among men. These beautiful creatures would tell wondrous tales of the creation of the earth and even of the Creator himself. Even death was not feared then, for these fabulous, beautiful, kind beings would come and take the dead away, or so the stories go, to live among the angels in their beautiful cities.
But this veritable paradise could not last, and slowly, over centuries, the angel’s cities stopped touching down to earth. No longer would these most mystical beings visit with men, no longer were the wondrous tales told. Then the unthinkable happened: the angels stopped carrying away the dead. Now mankind was left to bury their dead in the cold ground like beasts of the forest, like the elves or the trolls. Now death was a thing to be feared, an endless, unknowing sleep, instead of the beautiful golden dream promised by the angels.
For another centaury life continued as normal, and angels were regaled to almost myth, their only reminder being the golden cities blinking in the distance. Then another unthinkable happened. One fell. The most revered of creatures tumbled from their golden heights, lost their immortal glow and became mortal. More soon followed the first, not many, but enough. Each one as different from the rest as one human is from another, but they all shared one commonality. They would not speak of the heavenly cities. More centuries passed and clouds started to gather as more angels fell. Soon there was hardly a day during which the sun was not at lest partially obscured by the clouds and not less then three-dozen former angels wandered the earth.
Then the day later dubbed as Ragnarok occurred. The clouds had closed completely, all across Rouelia there was no sun to be seen, and gloom pervaded the people. It started to rain, it started to pour, then there was a crack of lightening and a dozen angels were simultaneously thrown from heaven. The clouds have yet to open from that tragedy, though it happened fifty years ago. A whole generation has been born and lived under the cover of clouds; these children of sorrow are living in a harsh time. The lack of sunlight has caused atrocious famines, crumbling of government and a strong revival from the monsters long pushed underground. Without even a glimpse of the golden cities from above to raise the hopes of the downtrodden this may indeed be mankind’s darkest hour.

The plot goes on to be about a fallen angle ajusting to being mortal and how he decides to be a mentor to a young fire mage. Love it? Hate it?

[chrispenycate]

[/quote][quote]

Originally Posted by Flag Pole Sitta

This is just a piece of writing I may not include in the finale draft, I just wanted people's opinion on my concept. I was talking to my friend and she said it sounded trite, which depressed me because I went to allot of effort to make my world unique. What do you guys think? Also, is Rouelia a dumb name?

Once, long ago, Rouelia was the home of angels,

two sentences; possibly "who lived" possibly "living" possibly full stop or semicolon

they lived in beautiful golden cities that flew amongst the clouds. These golden cities were not, however, regaled

regaled? restricted, perhaps?

solely to the skies; they would often alit

alight; or "they often alit". A

upon the ground and angels would walk among men. These beautiful creatures would tell wondrous tales of the creation of the earth and even of the Creator himself. Even death was not feared then, for these fabulous, beautiful, kind beings would come and take the dead away, or so the stories go, to live among the angels in their beautiful cities.
But this veritable paradise could not last, and slowly, over centuries, the angel’s

angels'

cities stopped touching down to earth. No longer would these most mystical beings visit with men, no longer were the wondrous tales told. Then the unthinkable happened: the angels stopped carrying away the dead. Now mankind was left to bury their dead in the cold ground like beasts of the forest, like the elves or the trolls. Now death was a thing to be feared, an endless, unknowing sleep, instead of the beautiful golden dream promised by the angels.
For another centaury

century

life continued as normal, and angels were regaled

regaled? possibly relegated?

to almost myth, their only reminder being the golden cities blinking in the distance. Then another unthinkable happened. One fell. The most revered of creatures tumbled from their golden heights, lost their immortal glow and became mortal.

immortal / mortal – could we find a simile

More soon followed the first, not many, but enough. Each one as different from the rest as one human is from another, but they all shared one commonality. They would not speak of the heavenly cities. More centuries passed and clouds started to gather as more angels fell. Soon there was hardly a day during which the sun was not at lest

least

partially obscured by the clouds and not less then three-dozen former angels wandered the earth.
Then the day later dubbed as Ragnarok occurred. The clouds had closed completely, all across Rouelia there was no sun to be seen, and gloom pervaded the people. It started to rain, it started to pour, then there was a crack of lightening and a dozen angels were simultaneously thrown from heaven. The clouds have yet to open from that tragedy, though it happened fifty years ago. A whole generation has been born and lived under the cover of clouds; these children of sorrow are living in a harsh time. The lack of sunlight has caused atrocious famines, crumbling of government and a strong revival from the monsters long pushed underground. Without even a glimpse of the golden cities from above to raise the hopes of the downtrodden this may indeed be mankind’s darkest hour.

The plot goes on to be about a fallen angle ajusting to being mortal and how he decides to be a mentor to a young fire mage. Love it? Hate it?

Certainly don't hate it; but it hasn't grabbed me yet.
And I can't even say why; the idea itself is solid enough, but it doesn't have the extra something that drags me in.
Still, that's just me.

[Giovanna Clairval]

Chris is right! I'm not drawn in it either.

And the mysterious word must be "relegated", I'll bet.

May I suggest that you begin with an angel wandering on Earth? Or a human meeting a disgruntled angel? Or a child praying for someone to rescue her cat lost in a tree, with the subsequent arrival of an angel who unsuccesfully tries to climb up the damned tree (could be the same disgruntled one).
There are hundreds of ways... serious or humorous.

The rest of the info should be inserted little by little as the story progresses, possibly smoothly wowen into the fabric of it. As an example, a scene could show a very old lady who recalls what the ancestors said about angels collecting bodies (now, that was practical!).

Inserting info-dump in an unobstrusive way is called "Heinleining".

Good luck!

[Flag Pole Sitta]

Yes! Yes it is relegated! Sorry... I make so many dumb mistakes. v.v And thanks for the grammatical editing.
I do need to work on the plot somewhat (plot? who needs plot?) and I'll probably/defiantly do some of that Heinleining you speak of.