Science Fiction Fantasy Chronicles: forums http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum Friendly science fiction and fantasy forums, discussing science fiction and fantasy books, film, media, writing, conventions, and related subjects such as science and history. en Sun, 06 Jul 2008 05:07:40 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/images/misc/rss.jpg Science Fiction Fantasy Chronicles: forums http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum The Separation by Christopher Priest http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46429-the-separation-by-christopher-priest.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 22:55:45 GMT 'The Separation' technically falls within the increasingly popular sub-genre (or would that be sub-sub-genre?) of alternate histories of World War 2. Since I have written one of those myself (The Foresight War) I read this book with more than usual interest.

The overriding impression I formed is of the vast difference which can exist in the way in which nominally similar themes are handled. At one extreme comes my own effort, which is a nuts and bolts analysis of how foreknowledge of events by those in power in Britain and Germany (thanks to time-travellers) might have affected strategies, tactics and equipment, and how the war might have turned out differently as a result. Christopher Priest's novel is at the other end of the spectrum.

'The Separation' is a fascinating intellectual exercise portraying different versions of reality. The tale starts in an alternate 1999, in which an historian is collecting material for a book about an RAF officer, J L Sawyer, who appeared to have played a mysterious part in the events which led up to the ending of the Anglo-German War in May 1941. The rest of the book consists of the material which he found: accounts from various viewpoints, correspondence and official notes of meetings.

It soon becomes clear that much confusion had been caused by the fact that there were two J L Sawyers: identical twins named Jack and Joe. Their contrasting personal accounts make up much of the book. We first meet them at the 1936 Olympics where they are rowing together, but they fall out and their paths diverge shortly thereafter. As war looms, one becomes a bomber pilot in the RAF, the other a conscientious objector working for the Red Cross.

As the viewpoint shifts from one person to another, so does the path of history. In one account, one of the brothers is killed; in another, the other one dies; and in a possible third they both survive. In one timeline one brother marries and has a daughter; in another, the other brother marries the same woman and has a son. In the wider context, one thread sees the war lasting until 1945 while another describes its ending in 1941. Deputy Führer Rudolph Hess apparently flies to Britain (but is he a fake?) in one account, and plays an important role in negotiating the peace in another. The confusion is not helped by the fact that one of the brothers suffers from powerful, extended and entirely realistic hallucinations following a head injury: are the experiences he recounts imaginary or real? He doesn't know, and neither do we. There is a final twist in the tail of the tale, concerning the identity of the historian researching the story.

With such internal contradictions the story is difficult to follow, or even to make sense of afterwards: do not hope for a tidy ending in which all is explained! This all may sound like an exercise in frustration, but the high quality of Priest's writing draws the reader into the novel. Don't look for dramatic action or much in the way of the technicalities of war; there is much well-researched detail on the bombing campaign, from the viewpoints of those delivering it and of those on the receiving end, but that's about it. The pleasures of this surreal story are more subtle. It is like a kaleidoscope; keep turning and the same elements keep falling into different patterns.

Some aspects are not entirely convincing. There is brief mention of events outside NW Europe following the 1941 end of the war, in which the USA becomes involved in extended conflict in Asia and, for no clearly explained reason, becomes a failed, gangster-run state which it remains even half a century later. There is much about Churchill, but the way in which he suddenly changed his mind over an important issue did not strike me as realistic.

Despite these reservations, the novel can be strongly recommended to readers who appreciate high-quality story-telling and enjoy having their perceptions repeatedly overturned.

(an extract from my SFF blog) ]]> Reviews Anthony G Williams http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46429-the-separation-by-christopher-priest.html Who is your favourite cover artist? http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46428-who-is-your-favourite-cover-artist.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 22:36:32 GMT For me the covers are an important part of the deal, I'd love to collect them(in fact I did have an asimov one in a frame but its gone by the wayside). Now for me.being a lover of space travel stories it has to be Chris Foss. His pictures are just so sf'nal,to quote a term seen in a letter to interzone. For fantasy well i've not taken much notice to be honest but Boris Valejo(sp.) is up there. Also Michael Whelan?
Who's yours? ]]> General Book Discussion AE35Unit http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46428-who-is-your-favourite-cover-artist.html Prose which strikes a fancy http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46427-prose-which-strikes-a-fancy.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 18:48:26 GMT I'm interested in hearing which writing styles you find most enjoyable? There's a wide range of voices out there. Ol' William Shakespeare and Chuck Palahniuk are entirely different, but both are respected by literary critics for their syntax. I'm personally a fan of Dan Simmons, who, in my mind, manages to weave complicated scientific jargon into simple prose with upbeat language and imagery. Can you list any favorite authors? Books? ]]> General Book Discussion Prefx http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46427-prose-which-strikes-a-fancy.html <![CDATA[Sequel to Freedom's Ransom]]> http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46426-sequel-to-freedoms-ransom.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 18:14:56 GMT Does anyone know if there is going to be a sequel to Freedom's Ransom (Freedom Series) or a continuation of the series/universe of some nature?

There are so many loose ends, specifically, who and where are the Farmers. ]]> Anne McCaffrey shw104 http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46426-sequel-to-freedoms-ransom.html Why no Clarke books in Audioformat (CD)? http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46425-why-no-clarke-books-in-audioformat-cd.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 18:12:35 GMT Does anyone know why there are very few or no Arthur C Clarke books in audiobook (CD or MP3) format? I'd love to find the Rama series or any of this great books.

All of Orson Scott Cards Ender's game is avaiable in audiobook CD/MP3 format and I'm sure there is an audience for the Rama series.

thanks ]]> Arthur C Clarke shw104 http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46425-why-no-clarke-books-in-audioformat-cd.html new vertebrate found http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46424-new-vertebrate-found.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 17:31:13 GMT alright so there is this TV show and it's called "Surface" it includes Lake Bell and some other actors that most people have not heard of. in this show there is a supposed "new species" found 5,000 feet below the ocean. the marine biologist (Dr. Laura Daughtry) enters a submersible which is supposed to take her to the nearest heat exposure vent. she's writing her theory on "equilibrium is best found near heat vents". while she is down there she discovers a vague green light that seems to be coming out of the vents. suddenly there is a horrific sound and the body of a new vertebrate is discovered. it seems to have come from an extinct dinosaur, liaoceratops, and it contains fin-like webbed feet, a body range anywhere from 60 to 150 feet depending on age, the head resembles a lizzard formation and the tail one of a dinosaur. it sends out a bright green light which must be a form of radiation because at a certain distance to the animal everything in its path is killed and then eaten. it's a form of feeding although their immense body mass should make it no problem to feed.

has anyone seen this tv show? because i'm wondering if it's trying to send a message concerning new vertebrates found in the ocean. ]]> Science / Nature bri_457 http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46424-new-vertebrate-found.html Dream casting http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46423-dream-casting.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 17:18:12 GMT Imagine (for the fun of it) if Doctor Who was played by Groucho Marx, with Chico & Harpo as his companions (all in their comedic prime, of course)
Oh how strange and fun that would be.....

That's the daft thought that came to me a few minutes ago. I thought it'd make a fun discussion here, imaging unlikely-but-entertaining choices of casting for various classic sci-fi characters.

Any ideas? ]]> The Lounge Harpo http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46423-dream-casting.html <![CDATA[ARGH, I'm a Pirate! Welcome me!]]> http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46422-argh-im-a-pirate-welcome-me.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 17:10:55 GMT Ah... randomness.

In any case, my name's Theo Hart, I'm an aspiring Fantasy/Sci-fi Writer/Future Librarian, and I hope for this to become my new home base.

I was a member of a, now, unfortunately, deceased, young writer's forum called Absynthemuse, which was absolutely amazing and provided incredible help with my writing in addition to professional opportunities.

So, I've been wandering around the intertubes since about the end of December, pretty much doing nothing.

Then, today, while I was working on a draft, I thought, "Hey, maybe I should go and try to find another writing site."

And so I have. :)

In any case, in terms of my style and interests, I've grown a fascination with Steampunk and it's variants within the past year, so I may put up something like that... Maybe some "Electricpunk." If that exists.

I love Epic Fantasy, as long as it doesn't spend a single page describing a blade of grass or the philosophical idiosyncrasies of paint drying under a character's boots.

Let's see here, what else... I'm half-and-half between Italian and Norwegian. I, currently, live in Kentucky. I don't like Eragon (purple prose up the wazoo). I like phyllo dough... And that's all I can think of now.

See y'all out there,

THEO ]]> Introductions Theo Hart http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46422-argh-im-a-pirate-welcome-me.html <![CDATA[Perp's Comic Corner]]> http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46421-perps-comic-corner.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 17:06:36 GMT I was recently asked to write the odd review for the odd comic that might catch my attention (The local comic book shop was the one requesting) and I thought I might as well post them up here as well. Respond or not, post your own, have fun! *Astonishing X-Men#25* By Warren Ellis and Simone Bianchi To start with let it be said that I have been reading the X-Men for a very long time. When I first started reading the adventures of Marvel’s Merry band of Mutants, there was only one title a month, and there was a lot of fuss about it being extended to two, as the New Mutants looked to debut. Chris Claremont was the uncontested master of mutant kind, and artists came and went. Claremont has never really hit the same heights as he did back then, but those comics were something special, competing with any of the modern classics, every issue was something I looked forward to month after month, each issue was a pleasure to be savoured again and again. With Claremont’s departure, the expansion of the range, the X-MEN lost something, and although they never really lost their place as the best selling comic title, it was never as good again. More recently that changed, the signing of top talents, ED BRUBAKER and MIKE CAREY to write the flagship titles made them more interesting, but even then it was still not quite as good as their work on other titles (CAPTAIN AMERICA has to be the best superhero comic on the market bar none). And then there was ASTONISHING X-MEN the third main X-Title, introduced as a vehicle so that BUFFY creator JOSS WHEDON could write the X-MEN. With art by JOHN CASSADAY it was better than good, but there was still something missing – almost as though much as he loved the characters, WHEDON’s heart lived with other things – and an irregular publishing schedule didn’t help. With the departure of WHEDON (very busy chap) he was replaced with writer WARREN ELLIS, with SIMONE BIANCHI on art. I picked it out to read on the bus on the way home and found something happening that had not happened in a long time. This was the X-MEN magic that had long been missing, to the point that when I had finished I wanted to read it again. It’s not just the art – this is superb the arrival of Storm on page 8 is wondrous - but ELLIS’ writing is on another level, the characters are individuals, the snappy interplay between them is enough to do what hasn’t been done in a long time – make the mutants human again. From new X-MAN Armor complaining about how lame her hero name is; to Storm lamenting that no one will argue with her now she is Queen of Wakanada; with Emma Frost simply stealing the show: (Armor: I think I can see Logan approaching... Emma: That could just be a wild ferret seen from afar dear. Is it pawing itself as it walks, as if it had great heaving nests of fleas in its more private areas? Armor: Yes... Emma: Then it’s Logan.) To a story that has something more than mutants versus mutants, emphasising the new role the X-MEN have in San Francisco, this could well be the start of the second ascension of the X-Men and for once I can’t wait for next months issue.... I was recently asked to write the odd review for the odd comic that might catch my attention (The local comic book shop was the one requesting) and I thought I might as well post them up here as well. Respond or not, post your own, have fun!

Astonishing X-Men#25
By Warren Ellis and Simone Bianchi

To start with let it be said that I have been reading the X-Men for a very long time. When I first started reading the adventures of Marvel’s Merry band of Mutants, there was only one title a month, and there was a lot of fuss about it being extended to two, as the New Mutants looked to debut. Chris Claremont was the uncontested master of mutant kind, and artists came and went.

Claremont has never really hit the same heights as he did back then, but those comics were something special, competing with any of the modern classics, every issue was something I looked forward to month after month, each issue was a pleasure to be savoured again and again. With Claremont’s departure, the expansion of the range, the X-MEN lost something, and although they never really lost their place as the best selling comic title, it was never as good again.

More recently that changed, the signing of top talents, ED BRUBAKER and MIKE CAREY to write the flagship titles made them more interesting, but even then it was still not quite as good as their work on other titles (CAPTAIN AMERICA has to be the best superhero comic on the market bar none).

And then there was ASTONISHING X-MEN the third main X-Title, introduced as a vehicle so that BUFFY creator JOSS WHEDON could write the X-MEN. With art by JOHN CASSADAY it was better than good, but there was still something missing – almost as though much as he loved the characters, WHEDON’s heart lived with other things – and an irregular publishing schedule didn’t help.

With the departure of WHEDON (very busy chap) he was replaced with writer WARREN ELLIS, with SIMONE BIANCHI on art. I picked it out to read on the bus on the way home and found something happening that had not happened in a long time. This was the X-MEN magic that had long been missing, to the point that when I had finished I wanted to read it again. It’s not just the art – this is superb the arrival of Storm on page 8 is wondrous - but ELLIS’ writing is on another level, the characters are individuals, the snappy interplay between them is enough to do what hasn’t been done in a long time – make the mutants human again. From new X-MAN Armor complaining about how lame her hero name is; to Storm lamenting that no one will argue with her now she is Queen of Wakanada; with Emma Frost simply stealing the show:
(Armor: I think I can see Logan approaching...
Emma: That could just be a wild ferret seen from afar dear. Is it pawing itself as it walks, as if it had great heaving nests of fleas in its more private areas?
Armor: Yes...
Emma: Then it’s Logan.)
To a story that has something more than mutants versus mutants, emphasising the new role the X-MEN have in San Francisco, this could well be the start of the second ascension of the X-Men and for once I can’t wait for next months issue.... ]]> Graphic Novels and Comics Perpetual Man http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46421-perps-comic-corner.html orandula -there might be spoilers!- http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46420-orandula-there-might-be-spoilers.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 16:25:51 GMT Hi there! First of all ..i'm new to this forum and i registered specifically to view your thoughts about the next question..
I just finished reading the last book of the soldiers son trilogy and i left the story a bit puzzled about what eventually satisfied orandula. I thought i knew what is was about, but the fact that orandula last appeared after the encounter with tiber left me wondering if he had something to do with it from the moment nevare found him beaten on the academy grounds. Does anybody share my confusion? and do any of you have clear grasp of what it was in the end that balanced everything out for the old god??

By the way, i am as i said new to this forum, in fact this is the very first forum i ever registered to. So if i broke any rules or did something terribly newbie-like, please feel free to tell me so and point me out my errors for future threads' sake, thank you for your time, i hope you ppl find it a valid and interesting question

Kind regards

d1cq ]]> Robin Hobb d1cq http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46420-orandula-there-might-be-spoilers.html Is this category only for RPG? http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46419-is-this-category-only-for-rpg.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 09:40:18 GMT Sorry , Im not english i can miss the introduction, but if read well is this only for RPG, or for FPS, Races , etc...? Sorry , Im not english i can miss the introduction, but if read well is this only for RPG, or for FPS, Races , etc...? ]]> Gaming Paperkut http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46419-is-this-category-only-for-rpg.html Why do we cheat? http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46418-why-do-we-cheat.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 08:56:14 GMT Why Do We Cheat? The right, wrong, and why of videogame cheating. | Vladd’s Gaming World
If the game has something added that gives you an edge is using it cheating? Is it cheating if you are playing single player or is it only cheating playing multiplayer? ]]> Gaming Vladd67 http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46418-why-do-we-cheat.html Wâldrock 2008 http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46417-waldrock-2008-a.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 07:47:12 GMT I'm leaving in five minutes to this festival: Wâldrock 2008 | Zaterdag 5 Juli 2008

Bye! ]]> Music Marky Lazer http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46417-waldrock-2008-a.html testing myself lol http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46413-testing-myself-lol.html Sat, 05 Jul 2008 01:19:24 GMT So... I have absolutely no writing experience whatsoever, but find myself trying to write a fantasy story. Need input other then from friends and family who like my work so far and keep asking to see more. *Part One 1000 years before the Rifts * 1 Primos, High King of the Prima Morg kingdom, took in the view of the ever expanding city before him. The scene of magically formed buildings stretched for miles, far past the eyesight of the mighty warrior-king. The wind high atop the cliffs where Primos stood turned into a sudden gale of straight, hard wind. His tarnished green cape whipped back and forth in the air and his grey hair bent back, yet the king himself stood undaunted. He closed his eyes, took a breath of the sweet smelling Morgon air, and slowly exhaled. Upon opening his eyes again, he found himself staring at an inferno sweeping across the city. A city that stretched for miles and miles, and the only city lost in the first human conflict to ever mar the face of Cee-Rah. This is the way it had been for nearly a year. Primos, his fellow warrior-kings, and the ever dwindling militia that fought for them were constantly on the run from the invading forces of the Maramarg barbarian tribes. A year before, when Prima Morg had reached its peak of prosperity and peace itself seemed an unbreakable thing, the Maramarg came. They came from the south, a hundred tribes of vicious and zealous barbarians united under one cause: the conquest of the world, Cee-Rah. They felt it was their religious duty to the Demon Lords who had promised everything to them, if they should they succeed in wiping the world of life. Under one banner, the tribes called themselves the Enclave and under the guidance of the immortal demons they were sent marching to the northern kingdoms of Prima Morg. In truth, the Demons could have conquered the entire world on their own, but they had an ulterior motive unbeknownst to all. The Lords had planned the conquering of the world since they first arrived from the Elemental Planes, but it was the powerful spirit of Cee-Rah that had their full attention. If they captured it they would gain the power to wage war on entire worlds. The Maramarg invasion force proved devastating and swift as it pushed in from the south by crossing a tiny strip of land connecting the lands of Prima Morg and Maramarg. Slowly, the kingdom that had stood for so long against the vicious monsters of the Crystal Ocean found itself conquered and burnt to the ground one walled section at a time. The barbarians celebrated their victories by using Demon artifact to bring the element of fire to life in the form of a rolling inferno, and followed it with a second celebration of heathen human sacrifice and mass rapes in the name of their Lords. A year later, after months of bloody fighting and close retreats the last of Morgon kind found themselves holding a tiny line on the eastern coast of Morg. It was to be their last stand against the hordes of the Enclave. Primos lowered his head, feeling a stinging tear welling up in his glowing blue eyes. When he heard the crunch of armored footsteps walking up the rugged cliff path he quickly craned his head back up and willed the tear to be gone. “Only a barbarian could enjoy such,” the calm, grainy voice of Eriko halted in mid-sentence, trying to find the right words, “wanton destruction,” the green-armored and bald warrior finished. Like Primos, Eriko had removed his helmet and now held it in the crook of his arm. Primos nodded and turned to his loyal friend, placing his back to the hungry inferno engulfing the last of the city. “A scene caused by a force only a Morgon could hope to repel,” Primos replied, his voice baritone and full of pride amid the losses over the year. With a reassuring pat on Eriko’s shoulder the tall king started back down the path. Eriko meant to keep watch over the ravaging hordes, the same as he had before every battle. Eriko’s battle strategies had held the Morg defensive line long enough to give those who couldn’t defend themselves a chance to retreat to the east. But, now they had reached the coast. Left with no place to run the families of the defending militia began boarding ships usually reserved for the shallow waters of the east coast. The situation was hopeless, but the Morgon defenders and their brave kings would fight to the very end for those they loved. The commotion at the bottom of the path seemed much quieter then it had ever been. Soldiers were lined up and ready for the last battle, but many were barely able to stand and all were beaten and haggard. Primos eyed every soldier he could and did his best to catch the eyes of each soldier. Those that had the strength to look up at him were given a warm and comforting smile. At the far end of the stretch of troops Primos could see Blazen making his way down the line. The warrior looked as ragged as the rest of the soldiers, and his armor showed a year’s worth of battling and bloody confrontation. There were only a few places where the armor still held its bronze hue. Primos placed his right fist against his chest as Blazen approached, the salute of the Morgons. Blazen returned it, but with his fierce custom of banging his armored fist against his chest. “What you see here is the last of our militia, Primos,” Blazen informed the High King as he brushed dust from his short black hair. “The rest died off as soon as we broke camp.” Blazen looked to the rag tag group of militia, then closed to whispering distance with Primos. “Even these men look as if they are about to collapse where they stand,” Blazen said, his growling voice giving its best attempt at a whisper. Primos looked down at Blazen, a sad look of grief crossing his sharp features. “You’re right, Lord Blazen,” Primos began, raising his voice to carry his words down the line. “We’ve been pushed out of our very land, and to the end of our world by an enemy like no other that we have ever faced.” Primos stepped away from Blazen and looked up and down the defensive line. Men were slowly raising their exhausted heads to hear their High King better. “We’ve seen friends and family alike cut down like dogs. We have seen our homes and that which we have all built with our own hands burnt back to the very ground we all spilled Maramarg blood on.” Primos marched away from Blazen, keeping his eyes down on the soldiers before him. “Those who have fallen in defense of Prima Morg can never be forgotten!” Primos suddenly roared, his voice carrying high up the cliff wall. The soldiers, bloody, bruised, and battered all stood tall at the sound of Primos’s voice. They lifted their heavy pikes and brought their shields to their chests. Eriko slid down the last bit of the rocky cliff path and walked over to Primos. His solemn expression and a nod to Primos confirmed that the hordes were nearing. Eriko slid his helmet back on, and after reciting a power word a magical gold shield bubbled into existence over the eye slit. Primos smiled and stared at his friend for a moment, then noticed that where his armor had once gave off a beautiful green reflective surface there was now only the cold grey of steel. Primos looked at himself, and realized even his once proud suit dark blue armor was eroded and revealed the steel surface of the well made armor. He pulled his own helmet back over his head, then with one final look at his men, he hefted his claymore high into the air. “Let them not be forgotten! Let not our enemy lay one more hand on those we love!” Primos roared. The soldiers raised their pikes and shields high into the air, roaring a defiant battle cry that deafened the rumbling of the approaching Maramarg barbarians. The Enclave appeared at the top of the cliff, the bulk of black armored foes blotting out the setting sun. Primos kept his claymore high in the air. Eriko reached to his hip and withdrew a shimmering gold blade from its sheath. Blazen ripped his serrated blades out of their sheaths with such a force it ripped the heavy leather hides in half. The militia walked forward to stand beside their kings, shield arms stiff and pikes ready for the coming charge. Primos closed his eyes for a moment, his face hidden behind his helmet. He prayed for any goodly spirits that were around to grant his people mercy. When he opened his eyes, the Maramargs were only yards away. With a mighty roar and huge swing of his blade, Primos waded into the force. The blade sheared through iron armor and flesh, then sent a shockwave of force into the mob. Barbarians flung high into the air as the rest of the charge slammed into the Morgon militia. Screams erupted all around Primos and battle roars echoed across the field. A moment’s reprieve gave Primos time to see Eriko grabbing hold of a spear aimed for his gut. With a sharp twist Eriko jerked it from the barbarian’s grasp and countered by slicing his gold blade across the Maramarg’s throat. Thick splatters of blood followed in the blade’s wake as Eriko used the swing’s momentum to spin his body around and shove the spear into the plated chest of a second enemy. The spear drove straight down into the barbarian’s chest and clipped into the hip of a third Maramarg. His hip shattered, the screaming barbarian fell to a knee and grabbed for the crude spear. Eriko ended the man’s life quickly with an effortless swipe that left the man’s head rolling across the dirt. Primos focused his attention back before him. A charging Maramarg leapt into the air, a heavy axe lifted high above his head. Primos reached out and grabbed the man by his chest piece and with a spin he flung the man back into the mob hard enough to send a dozen of the Maramargs tumbling. Primos strode forward, easily batting away a heavy swipe from a barbarian’s sword. Primos’s sword went high, then came back down to slice the attacker nearly in half from shoulder to hip. Blazen gritted his teeth and dove headfirst into the fray. A swipe from one of his blades caught a Maramarg cleanly in the face and a second thrust drove hard into the gut of a second barbarian. When Blazen stepped forward and jerked his blades free to parry a third attacker, chunks of skull and entrails showered behind him. The attacker quickly jerked his blade free of Blazen’s serrated blades. A passing barbarian swiped at Blazen from the side only to hit a solid part of the warrior’s armor. In return, the barbarian’s stomach was opened with a quick slice from Blazen before the warrior king returned his attention to his previous attacker. The sword toting barbarian lunged at Blazen again, bringing his blade low at the king’s legs. Blazen brought his armored boot up caught the sword under his foot. He shoved his boot down and brought the barbarian to the ground, his fingers crunching under the flattened sword’s handle. A second kick lifted the barbarian high into the air where Blazen rushed into him, blades slicing and flinging long lines of dark blood this way and that. The black tide kept coming. Primos sent a second shock-wave causing slice into the mob and looked his men over. It seemed that with every heartbeat three of his soldiers were being cut down for every Maramarg that fell at a Morgon’s sandaled feet. A heavy quarrel slammed hard but harmlessly into Primos’s chest piece. Primos sliced through a group of the encroaching Maramargs and spotted the sniper on the cliff path. Primos aimed the tip of his sword at the man and spoke a rune that activated the magic within the sword. A burst of blue energy erupted from the sword and slammed the sniper and his perch. The following explosion sent chunks of glassed dirt high into the air. Confident the sniper was dead, Primos waded back into the horde. Meanwhile, Eriko was finding himself in trouble. His gold sword had been knocked from his hand and in consequence the quick warrior was having to work hand to hand combat against heavily armored and armed Maramargs. He slapped away a crude blade and caved the attacker’s face in with his armored fist. Eriko silently mumbled a power word and his armor seemed to shimmer with a vague gold surface. A flying spear caught his eye and he twisted his body just in time for the spear to glance off the magical shield encasing his armor. A Maramarg reached in from behind Eriko and grabbed the warrior by the waist. Eriko could sense the barbarian was using his unnatural strength to try and crush Eriko but the shield held long enough for Eriko to repeatedly slam his helmeted head into the Maramarg’s nose. The grip finally weakened and Eriko pried himself free just as a pike thrust out for his chest. Eriko quickly spun away from the spear and turned to see his attacker drive the shaft into his fellow Maramarg’s chest. Eriko’s eyes fell on the sword strapped to the dying barbarian’s hip. He leaped forward and jerked the blade free of its sheath then slashed out at the spear’s shaft, shattering the thick wood. As the dead Maramarg fell to the ground Eriko reached out and jerked the shortened spear from his chest then turned to leap at the second barbarian and drive the spear down into breast. Eriko ripped the spear free then turned to parry a charging barbarian’s sword, send a powerful kick to the Maramarg’s chest with enough force to knock him back a full yard, then flung the spear to bury it in the barbarian’s chest. The three dead barbarians all seemed to fall to the ground in unison. Armed with his barbarian sword, Eriko leapt high into the air and crashed down into a group of the barbarians. The defenders held for another hour before they were finally pushed back to a cliff that overlooked the coast. Primos could see that the Morgons were doing well in preparing the ships. He even spotted Perkos, the most charismatic of the four warrior kings, rushing back and forth and helping where he could. Primos turned his attention back to the battle at hand. His militia was dwindling and now were only numbering around fifty desperate soldiers defending against a numberless enemy. Blazen could be seen wading through the horde, his serrated blades cleaving limbs and showering the enemy with their own blood. Eriko was a constant blur of motion as he darted from enemy to enemy. Yet, Primos knew it was hopeless. Blazen was suddenly tossed into the air by a massive war hammer armed barbarian. Eriko disappeared under the black horde. Primos rushed forward into the battle yet again, swinging his heavy sword into the barbarians. Many were left dead in the wake of Primos’s charge, but they were quickly replaced by fresh and ravenous barbarians. The last of the militia fell under Maramarg attacks and left Primos standing alone on the field of battle. Through his blood stained visor Primos would glimpse Eriko and Blazen standing back to back as the hordes crashed into them again and again. Mighty Primos’s arms and legs were beginning to ache from the constant swinging of his heavy blade. Then, the world suddenly went totally still. Primos shook away his fatigue enough to gather his thoughts. The barbarians were frozen in place. Primos pulled his helmet off of his sweat soaked head. Eriko pulled his helmet off and dropped it to the ground then pulled a wounded Blazen to his feet. A quiet and peaceful music drifted into their ears. A woman’s soft voice sang softly and a quiet vibration could be heard. Blazen and Eriko reunited with Primos at the cliff’s edge. Together the three looked down to see all was still on the coast. Even the water had frozen in place. A confused Perkos pulled his hands close to his chest and looked up to the three warriors. “Is that it then?” Perkos called from below the three kings. Primos looked to Blazen and Eriko with a look of confusion and trepidation. Eriko‘s features didn‘t show the same confusion, but a look of alertness. Blazen’s eyes kept opening and closing from fatigue and the pain caused by the gushing wound in his side. “What manner of sorcery is this supposed to be?” Primos heard Perkos call out. Primos had no answer, no reply for the strange turn of events. A sudden gust of wind blew between the kings and sent dust up in its wake. When the dirt and dust cleared Primos rubbed his eyes of the rubble. Instantly, he felt a presence other then that of his comrades. Primos spun and swung his blade across only to have it stop in mid swing. It was jerked from his grasp and pulled high into the air where Blazen’s blades and Eriko’s crude sword soon followed. All three gazed up into the sky to see an unnaturally beautiful and naked woman with a huge mane of flowing blue hair hovering above them. Even the decent and honorable men kings could not pull their attention away from the striking woman. Her brilliant green eyes bore into them and their stunned faces turned from shock to embarrassment. A soft chuckle left the woman’s lips and she drifted down to the ground. Ivy crawled up from the side of the cliff to wrap itself around her and partially covered her glistening skin. Primos locked stares with the woman and stepped forward, showing no fear in front of this stranger. “Who are you?” Primos softly asked the woman, who also stepped forward. She was as tall as Primos, but definitely not as physically imposing. “You humans have been here for a very long time. But there are those who have been here much longer then you. They call this world Cee-Rah, and as I am the avatar of her spirit you shall also call me Cee-Rah,” the woman, Cee-Rah, told Primos. Primos’s confusion was evident in his expression. Cee-Rah could understand this, as the mortal knew so very little about the world around him. She lifted her hand and gently stroked Primos’s cheek. “You are a mighty and noble king, Primos. But there is much going on that would take an eternity for you to understand. All you must know is that this moment of sanctuary will not last much longer,” Cee-Rah glanced around then turned her green eyes back to Primos, “for already I can feel the Demon Lords pushing to counter this magic.” The confusion didn’t leave Primos’s face, but he felt himself eased at the very sound of her melodic voice. The ivy covering Cee-Rah’s body twitched and slithered to cover different areas. A single vine of it slid up to her ear with a large green leaf rubbing against her flesh. Cee-Rah’s jade eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. She slid her hand down Primos’s face to rest it on his armored shoulder. “Listen to me, and listen well king of kings. I can help your people escape to freedom, and a new life. But, I’ll want your word that when the time comes you’ll be at my beckoned call, Primos,” she said to the old king. Primos’s confused expression changed to a sincere look of hope. “Tell me, milady. What must I do to save my people? I’ll give whatever I must in return for their ensured safety,” Primos replied as his hands came up to grab onto Cee-Rah’s toned arms. The king was surprised at the stiffness in those soft arms, and did his best to hide it. “In return for my aid, Primos, I’ll ask only for you to forfeit your mortal self and embrace a new life. I know that it would be asking so very much of you, Primos. But, it’s the only way I can be sure that your human side would hold to your end of our deal,” Cee-Rah told Primos, her tone suggesting that perhaps she truly understood the burden she was placing on Primos. The look of hope on Primos’s face quickly turned to a scorn of contempt and he stepped away from the goddess. “You’re asking me to give my soul away to you, and with no promise of where it will find itself?” Primos shook his head and turned to walk back to his comrades. “Take your deal elsewhere, Lady Cee-Rah. My fellow warriors and I would prefer to fight and hold off the hordes for as long as we can.” Thunder rumbled as Cee-Rah vanished then reappeared in front of Primos. “Once again, Primos, there is more going on then even a wise king such as yourself is aware of,” Cee-Rah said to the warrior king, her tone now hinting at irritation. “Beyond this mortal realm you’ll find several other realms. The Demon Lords hold control over the fire realm. I hold control of the realms of earth, air, and water. No one holds control over the realm of life and death, Primos. Those that have died for you, and their families that have died in this devastating war, are wandering the endless wastes of the Death Realm right now,” she paused for a moment to let the gravity of the truth sink into the noble king’s mind. “If you give up your mortal self, you’ll transcend into immortality and will be able to lead your people through the Death Realm,” Cee-rah whispered as she closed the distance between her and Primos. “I promise you, there are things there that can rend a soul to only slivers of one’s former existence. Even after death, there are still worse fates for a creature’s soul, Primos.” Primos lowered his head and let out a slow sigh. He looked up and saw Eriko approaching with Blazen braced against him. “We are with you, milord,” Eriko said quietly. From behind them Perkos appeared over the cliff’s lip. The dainty and mischievous king brushed dirt from his fine cloak as he came to stand beside Eriko. As one the three kings turned to regard their fourth companion, who‘s jaw slowly drooped open as his brown eyes fell onto the alluring Cee-Rah. Eriko reached out and pushed Perkos’s jaw closed and nodded to Cee-Rah and Primos. “Perkos is with us as well, milord.” Primos turned back to Cee-Rah and nodded. “Do what you must, Cee-Rah. Do whatever you can to save my people.” Cee-Rah smiled and closed her eyes then pulled Primos close to her and whispered, “Hold on tight, Primos.” Suddenly, the sound of rushing air invaded the kings’ ears and it seemed that the whole world had been swallowed in blackness. So... I have absolutely no writing experience whatsoever, but find myself trying to write a fantasy story. Need input other then from friends and family who like my work so far and keep asking to see more.

Part One
1000 years before the Rifts

1
Primos, High King of the Prima Morg kingdom, took in the view of the ever expanding city before him. The scene of magically formed buildings stretched for miles, far past the eyesight of the mighty warrior-king. The wind high atop the cliffs where Primos stood turned into a sudden gale of straight, hard wind. His tarnished green cape whipped back and forth in the air and his grey hair bent back, yet the king himself stood undaunted. He closed his eyes, took a breath of the sweet smelling Morgon air, and slowly exhaled. Upon opening his eyes again, he found himself staring at an inferno sweeping across the city. A city that stretched for miles and miles, and the only city lost in the first human conflict to ever mar the face of Cee-Rah.
This is the way it had been for nearly a year. Primos, his fellow warrior-kings, and the ever dwindling militia that fought for them were constantly on the run from the invading forces of the Maramarg barbarian tribes. A year before, when Prima Morg had reached its peak of prosperity and peace itself seemed an unbreakable thing, the Maramarg came. They came from the south, a hundred tribes of vicious and zealous barbarians united under one cause: the conquest of the world, Cee-Rah. They felt it was their religious duty to the Demon Lords who had promised everything to them, if they should they succeed in wiping the world of life. Under one banner, the tribes called themselves the Enclave and under the guidance of the immortal demons they were sent marching to the northern kingdoms of Prima Morg. In truth, the Demons could have conquered the entire world on their own, but they had an ulterior motive unbeknownst to all. The Lords had planned the conquering of the world since they first arrived from the Elemental Planes, but it was the powerful spirit of Cee-Rah that had their full attention. If they captured it they would gain the power to wage war on entire worlds. The Maramarg invasion force proved devastating and swift as it pushed in from the south by crossing a tiny strip of land connecting the lands of Prima Morg and Maramarg. Slowly, the kingdom that had stood for so long against the vicious monsters of the Crystal Ocean found itself conquered and burnt to the ground one walled section at a time. The barbarians celebrated their victories by using Demon artifact to bring the element of fire to life in the form of a rolling inferno, and followed it with a second celebration of heathen human sacrifice and mass rapes in the name of their Lords.
A year later, after months of bloody fighting and close retreats the last of Morgon kind found themselves holding a tiny line on the eastern coast of Morg. It was to be their last stand against the hordes of the Enclave. Primos lowered his head, feeling a stinging tear welling up in his glowing blue eyes. When he heard the crunch of armored footsteps walking up the rugged cliff path he quickly craned his head back up and willed the tear to be gone.
“Only a barbarian could enjoy such,” the calm, grainy voice of Eriko halted in mid-sentence, trying to find the right words, “wanton destruction,” the green-armored and bald warrior finished. Like Primos, Eriko had removed his helmet and now held it in the crook of his arm. Primos nodded and turned to his loyal friend, placing his back to the hungry inferno engulfing the last of the city.
“A scene caused by a force only a Morgon could hope to repel,” Primos replied, his voice baritone and full of pride amid the losses over the year. With a reassuring pat on Eriko’s shoulder the tall king started back down the path. Eriko meant to keep watch over the ravaging hordes, the same as he had before every battle. Eriko’s battle strategies had held the Morg defensive line long enough to give those who couldn’t defend themselves a chance to retreat to the east. But, now they had reached the coast. Left with no place to run the families of the defending militia began boarding ships usually reserved for the shallow waters of the east coast. The situation was hopeless, but the Morgon defenders and their brave kings would fight to the very end for those they loved.
The commotion at the bottom of the path seemed much quieter then it had ever been. Soldiers were lined up and ready for the last battle, but many were barely able to stand and all were beaten and haggard. Primos eyed every soldier he could and did his best to catch the eyes of each soldier. Those that had the strength to look up at him were given a warm and comforting smile. At the far end of the stretch of troops Primos could see Blazen making his way down the line. The warrior looked as ragged as the rest of the soldiers, and his armor showed a year’s worth of battling and bloody confrontation. There were only a few places where the armor still held its bronze hue. Primos placed his right fist against his chest as Blazen approached, the salute of the Morgons. Blazen returned it, but with his fierce custom of banging his armored fist against his chest.
“What you see here is the last of our militia, Primos,” Blazen informed the High King as he brushed dust from his short black hair. “The rest died off as soon as we broke camp.” Blazen looked to the rag tag group of militia, then closed to whispering distance with Primos. “Even these men look as if they are about to collapse where they stand,” Blazen said, his growling voice giving its best attempt at a whisper. Primos looked down at Blazen, a sad look of grief crossing his sharp features.
“You’re right, Lord Blazen,” Primos began, raising his voice to carry his words down the line. “We’ve been pushed out of our very land, and to the end of our world by an enemy like no other that we have ever faced.” Primos stepped away from Blazen and looked up and down the defensive line. Men were slowly raising their exhausted heads to hear their High King better. “We’ve seen friends and family alike cut down like dogs. We have seen our homes and that which we have all built with our own hands burnt back to the very ground we all spilled Maramarg blood on.” Primos marched away from Blazen, keeping his eyes down on the soldiers before him. “Those who have fallen in defense of Prima Morg can never be forgotten!” Primos suddenly roared, his voice carrying high up the cliff wall. The soldiers, bloody, bruised, and battered all stood tall at the sound of Primos’s voice. They lifted their heavy pikes and brought their shields to their chests. Eriko slid down the last bit of the rocky cliff path and walked over to Primos. His solemn expression and a nod to Primos confirmed that the hordes were nearing. Eriko slid his helmet back on, and after reciting a power word a magical gold shield bubbled into existence over the eye slit. Primos smiled and stared at his friend for a moment, then noticed that where his armor had once gave off a beautiful green reflective surface there was now only the cold grey of steel. Primos looked at himself, and realized even his once proud suit dark blue armor was eroded and revealed the steel surface of the well made armor. He pulled his own helmet back over his head, then with one final look at his men, he hefted his claymore high into the air. “Let them not be forgotten! Let not our enemy lay one more hand on those we love!” Primos roared. The soldiers raised their pikes and shields high into the air, roaring a defiant battle cry that deafened the rumbling of the approaching Maramarg barbarians.
The Enclave appeared at the top of the cliff, the bulk of black armored foes blotting out the setting sun. Primos kept his claymore high in the air. Eriko reached to his hip and withdrew a shimmering gold blade from its sheath. Blazen ripped his serrated blades out of their sheaths with such a force it ripped the heavy leather hides in half. The militia walked forward to stand beside their kings, shield arms stiff and pikes ready for the coming charge.
Primos closed his eyes for a moment, his face hidden behind his helmet. He prayed for any goodly spirits that were around to grant his people mercy. When he opened his eyes, the Maramargs were only yards away.
With a mighty roar and huge swing of his blade, Primos waded into the force. The blade sheared through iron armor and flesh, then sent a shockwave of force into the mob. Barbarians flung high into the air as the rest of the charge slammed into the Morgon militia. Screams erupted all around Primos and battle roars echoed across the field. A moment’s reprieve gave Primos time to see Eriko grabbing hold of a spear aimed for his gut. With a sharp twist Eriko jerked it from the barbarian’s grasp and countered by slicing his gold blade across the Maramarg’s throat. Thick splatters of blood followed in the blade’s wake as Eriko used the swing’s momentum to spin his body around and shove the spear into the plated chest of a second enemy. The spear drove straight down into the barbarian’s chest and clipped into the hip of a third Maramarg. His hip shattered, the screaming barbarian fell to a knee and grabbed for the crude spear. Eriko ended the man’s life quickly with an effortless swipe that left the man’s head rolling across the dirt.
Primos focused his attention back before him. A charging Maramarg leapt into the air, a heavy axe lifted high above his head. Primos reached out and grabbed the man by his chest piece and with a spin he flung the man back into the mob hard enough to send a dozen of the Maramargs tumbling. Primos strode forward, easily batting away a heavy swipe from a barbarian’s sword. Primos’s sword went high, then came back down to slice the attacker nearly in half from shoulder to hip.
Blazen gritted his teeth and dove headfirst into the fray. A swipe from one of his blades caught a Maramarg cleanly in the face and a second thrust drove hard into the gut of a second barbarian. When Blazen stepped forward and jerked his blades free to parry a third attacker, chunks of skull and entrails showered behind him. The attacker quickly jerked his blade free of Blazen’s serrated blades. A passing barbarian swiped at Blazen from the side only to hit a solid part of the warrior’s armor. In return, the barbarian’s stomach was opened with a quick slice from Blazen before the warrior king returned his attention to his previous attacker. The sword toting barbarian lunged at Blazen again, bringing his blade low at the king’s legs. Blazen brought his armored boot up caught the sword under his foot. He shoved his boot down and brought the barbarian to the ground, his fingers crunching under the flattened sword’s handle. A second kick lifted the barbarian high into the air where Blazen rushed into him, blades slicing and flinging long lines of dark blood this way and that.
The black tide kept coming. Primos sent a second shock-wave causing slice into the mob and looked his men over. It seemed that with every heartbeat three of his soldiers were being cut down for every Maramarg that fell at a Morgon’s sandaled feet. A heavy quarrel slammed hard but harmlessly into Primos’s chest piece. Primos sliced through a group of the encroaching Maramargs and spotted the sniper on the cliff path. Primos aimed the tip of his sword at the man and spoke a rune that activated the magic within the sword. A burst of blue energy erupted from the sword and slammed the sniper and his perch. The following explosion sent chunks of glassed dirt high into the air. Confident the sniper was dead, Primos waded back into the horde.
Meanwhile, Eriko was finding himself in trouble. His gold sword had been knocked from his hand and in consequence the quick warrior was having to work hand to hand combat against heavily armored and armed Maramargs. He slapped away a crude blade and caved the attacker’s face in with his armored fist. Eriko silently mumbled a power word and his armor seemed to shimmer with a vague gold surface. A flying spear caught his eye and he twisted his body just in time for the spear to glance off the magical shield encasing his armor. A Maramarg reached in from behind Eriko and grabbed the warrior by the waist. Eriko could sense the barbarian was using his unnatural strength to try and crush Eriko but the shield held long enough for Eriko to repeatedly slam his helmeted head into the Maramarg’s nose. The grip finally weakened and Eriko pried himself free just as a pike thrust out for his chest. Eriko quickly spun away from the spear and turned to see his attacker drive the shaft into his fellow Maramarg’s chest. Eriko’s eyes fell on the sword strapped to the dying barbarian’s hip. He leaped forward and jerked the blade free of its sheath then slashed out at the spear’s shaft, shattering the thick wood. As the dead Maramarg fell to the ground Eriko reached out and jerked the shortened spear from his chest then turned to leap at the second barbarian and drive the spear down into breast. Eriko ripped the spear free then turned to parry a charging barbarian’s sword, send a powerful kick to the Maramarg’s chest with enough force to knock him back a full yard, then flung the spear to bury it in the barbarian’s chest. The three dead barbarians all seemed to fall to the ground in unison. Armed with his barbarian sword, Eriko leapt high into the air and crashed down into a group of the barbarians.
The defenders held for another hour before they were finally pushed back to a cliff that overlooked the coast. Primos could see that the Morgons were doing well in preparing the ships. He even spotted Perkos, the most charismatic of the four warrior kings, rushing back and forth and helping where he could. Primos turned his attention back to the battle at hand. His militia was dwindling and now were only numbering around fifty desperate soldiers defending against a numberless enemy. Blazen could be seen wading through the horde, his serrated blades cleaving limbs and showering the enemy with their own blood. Eriko was a constant blur of motion as he darted from enemy to enemy. Yet, Primos knew it was hopeless.
Blazen was suddenly tossed into the air by a massive war hammer armed barbarian. Eriko disappeared under the black horde. Primos rushed forward into the battle yet again, swinging his heavy sword into the barbarians. Many were left dead in the wake of Primos’s charge, but they were quickly replaced by fresh and ravenous barbarians.
The last of the militia fell under Maramarg attacks and left Primos standing alone on the field of battle. Through his blood stained visor Primos would glimpse Eriko and Blazen standing back to back as the hordes crashed into them again and again. Mighty Primos’s arms and legs were beginning to ache from the constant swinging of his heavy blade.
Then, the world suddenly went totally still. Primos shook away his fatigue enough to gather his thoughts. The barbarians were frozen in place. Primos pulled his helmet off of his sweat soaked head. Eriko pulled his helmet off and dropped it to the ground then pulled a wounded Blazen to his feet. A quiet and peaceful music drifted into their ears. A woman’s soft voice sang softly and a quiet vibration could be heard. Blazen and Eriko reunited with Primos at the cliff’s edge. Together the three looked down to see all was still on the coast. Even the water had frozen in place. A confused Perkos pulled his hands close to his chest and looked up to the three warriors.
“Is that it then?” Perkos called from below the three kings. Primos looked to Blazen and Eriko with a look of confusion and trepidation. Eriko‘s features didn‘t show the same confusion, but a look of alertness. Blazen’s eyes kept opening and closing from fatigue and the pain caused by the gushing wound in his side. “What manner of sorcery is this supposed to be?” Primos heard Perkos call out. Primos had no answer, no reply for the strange turn of events. A sudden gust of wind blew between the kings and sent dust up in its wake. When the dirt and dust cleared Primos rubbed his eyes of the rubble. Instantly, he felt a presence other then that of his comrades. Primos spun and swung his blade across only to have it stop in mid swing. It was jerked from his grasp and pulled high into the air where Blazen’s blades and Eriko’s crude sword soon followed.
All three gazed up into the sky to see an unnaturally beautiful and naked woman with a huge mane of flowing blue hair hovering above them. Even the decent and honorable men kings could not pull their attention away from the striking woman. Her brilliant green eyes bore into them and their stunned faces turned from shock to embarrassment. A soft chuckle left the woman’s lips and she drifted down to the ground. Ivy crawled up from the side of the cliff to wrap itself around her and partially covered her glistening skin. Primos locked stares with the woman and stepped forward, showing no fear in front of this stranger. “Who are you?” Primos softly asked the woman, who also stepped forward. She was as tall as Primos, but definitely not as physically imposing.
“You humans have been here for a very long time. But there are those who have been here much longer then you. They call this world Cee-Rah, and as I am the avatar of her spirit you shall also call me Cee-Rah,” the woman, Cee-Rah, told Primos. Primos’s confusion was evident in his expression. Cee-Rah could understand this, as the mortal knew so very little about the world around him. She lifted her hand and gently stroked Primos’s cheek. “You are a mighty and noble king, Primos. But there is much going on that would take an eternity for you to understand. All you must know is that this moment of sanctuary will not last much longer,” Cee-Rah glanced around then turned her green eyes back to Primos, “for already I can feel the Demon Lords pushing to counter this magic.”
The confusion didn’t leave Primos’s face, but he felt himself eased at the very sound of her melodic voice. The ivy covering Cee-Rah’s body twitched and slithered to cover different areas. A single vine of it slid up to her ear with a large green leaf rubbing against her flesh. Cee-Rah’s jade eyes widened and she bit her lower lip. She slid her hand down Primos’s face to rest it on his armored shoulder. “Listen to me, and listen well king of kings. I can help your people escape to freedom, and a new life. But, I’ll want your word that when the time comes you’ll be at my beckoned call, Primos,” she said to the old king. Primos’s confused expression changed to a sincere look of hope.
“Tell me, milady. What must I do to save my people? I’ll give whatever I must in return for their ensured safety,” Primos replied as his hands came up to grab onto Cee-Rah’s toned arms. The king was surprised at the stiffness in those soft arms, and did his best to hide it.
“In return for my aid, Primos, I’ll ask only for you to forfeit your mortal self and embrace a new life. I know that it would be asking so very much of you, Primos. But, it’s the only way I can be sure that your human side would hold to your end of our deal,” Cee-Rah told Primos, her tone suggesting that perhaps she truly understood the burden she was placing on Primos. The look of hope on Primos’s face quickly turned to a scorn of contempt and he stepped away from the goddess.
“You’re asking me to give my soul away to you, and with no promise of where it will find itself?” Primos shook his head and turned to walk back to his comrades. “Take your deal elsewhere, Lady Cee-Rah. My fellow warriors and I would prefer to fight and hold off the hordes for as long as we can.”
Thunder rumbled as Cee-Rah vanished then reappeared in front of Primos. “Once again, Primos, there is more going on then even a wise king such as yourself is aware of,” Cee-Rah said to the warrior king, her tone now hinting at irritation. “Beyond this mortal realm you’ll find several other realms. The Demon Lords hold control over the fire realm. I hold control of the realms of earth, air, and water. No one holds control over the realm of life and death, Primos. Those that have died for you, and their families that have died in this devastating war, are wandering the endless wastes of the Death Realm right now,” she paused for a moment to let the gravity of the truth sink into the noble king’s mind. “If you give up your mortal self, you’ll transcend into immortality and will be able to lead your people through the Death Realm,” Cee-rah whispered as she closed the distance between her and Primos. “I promise you, there are things there that can rend a soul to only slivers of one’s former existence. Even after death, there are still worse fates for a creature’s soul, Primos.”
Primos lowered his head and let out a slow sigh. He looked up and saw Eriko approaching with Blazen braced against him. “We are with you, milord,” Eriko said quietly. From behind them Perkos appeared over the cliff’s lip. The dainty and mischievous king brushed dirt from his fine cloak as he came to stand beside Eriko. As one the three kings turned to regard their fourth companion, who‘s jaw slowly drooped open as his brown eyes fell onto the alluring Cee-Rah. Eriko reached out and pushed Perkos’s jaw closed and nodded to Cee-Rah and Primos. “Perkos is with us as well, milord.”
Primos turned back to Cee-Rah and nodded. “Do what you must, Cee-Rah. Do whatever you can to save my people.”
Cee-Rah smiled and closed her eyes then pulled Primos close to her and whispered, “Hold on tight, Primos.” Suddenly, the sound of rushing air invaded the kings’ ears and it seemed that the whole world had been swallowed in blackness.
 ]]> Critiques ronfleming86 http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46413-testing-myself-lol.html <![CDATA[Sighting of World's Biggest UFO!]]> http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46411-sighting-of-worlds-biggest-ufo.html Fri, 04 Jul 2008 23:18:26 GMT Don't get too excited, though:
BBC NEWS | Wales | Police say UFO was just the Moon
'Police called out to a 999 call about an unexplained object in the night sky solved the mystery straight away for their operator - "it's the Moon, over." ' ]]> World affairs Ursa major http://www.sffchronicles.co.uk/forum/46411-sighting-of-worlds-biggest-ufo.html