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Richelieu
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Gatineau
Dec 2001
time: 00:32
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This is going to take a very long time to write.
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PLATO
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Of the occupied South
Dec 2002
time: 23:32
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Shakka's Tale
The intense heat of the afternoon sun bore down on Shakka’s back like a physical burden. He had been moving across the broad, flat plain for three days now. Somewhere there must be water. His thirst began to gnaw at him like an insect that could not be reached. Early this morning he had spotted the small group of men that had been making their way through a dry riverbed. If they were here, then that meant water was not to far away. After following them for a short distance, he quickly realized that these men were on a hunt. He decided to stay back and down wind to observe their skills.
Shakka had quickly come to realize that their skill was immense. Where he had thought that their was only four of them, he was shocked when two more came out of the tall grass on their eastern flank. Suddenly both groups broke into a full run! An animal sprang from the grass, driven from the first group toward the second. When the animal spotted the second group it made a near right angle toward the open plain. Shakka was taken aback when a third group emerged directly in the animal’s path! He had never seen such stealth in warriors before. His battle-trained eyes were used to surveying a landscape and being able to immediately determine the location of all combatants. This was suddenly and indescribably tremendously exciting to him. One of the third group lunged at the animal and physically tackled it. The animal fought fiercely, but the other hunters soon converged on it and soon the animal was being beaten by eight different men.
Shakka made a decision. He quickly moved in their direction as he readied the spear that had been provided to him from the stores in the landing pod. The issue was still very much in doubt when he arrived at the scene of the struggle. The animal had been able to mortally wound one man while another appeared to be lying unconscious nearby. The animal was showing signs of slowing as the others continued their barehanded attack. Shakka stopped, unnoticed, approximately fifteen feet from the battle. He took careful aim and the let loose the spear with all his immense strength. The spear ran true and struck the animal squarely in the heart. It immediately fell to the ground dying before it came totally to rest.
The hunters froze and starred at Shakka as he slowly walked up to the animal and withdrew his spear. The sweating, bloody hunters moved nothing but their eyes as they followed his every move. One hunter, who it was quickly obvious was the leader, spoke, “What is this thing that has killed the antelope?” Shakka knew his opportunity was here, “It is called a Spear. It is one of many things that I can teach about the hunt.” The leader looked long and hard into Shakka’s eyes and made a decision. He turned and struck the nearest hunter to him a tremendous blow…instantly snapping his neck. The hunter fell dead to the ground. The leader said, “I have sacrificed this warrior to honor this kill and your friendship. His blood now binds you to us. Come, you must now prove yourself before Senzangakhona, King of the Zulu tribe.” Shakka smiled, these men would make excellent warriors in his quest to return to Alpha Prime. The remaining hunters gathered to lift the antelope onto their shoulders. The leader did not offer his help and Shakka followed this lead. He wanted these men to recognize him as one of their leaders from this point forward. As they walked back toward the dry riverbed, Shakka turned his thoughts to his meeting with the Zulu king.
Last edited by PLATO on 29-02-2004 at 05:34
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vovan
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quote:
Originally posted by PLATO
Thanks vovan. Does that read better? |
Sure does.  
quote:
Originally posted by PLATO
The hardest part about writing this is that my mind keeps moving forward in the story I want to tell and I fear that I won't do justice to the part I'm writing now.
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Hehe, I know how that goes. Sometimes, too, I fear I'll forget this cool new plot twist that comes into my mind while writing a section, so I jump forward, and then resume the old part, and then something else comes to my mind, too.  The only thing that keeps me on track is trying to keep the goal of the story in mind. For instance, for the story I'm writing now, I have in mind a specific message I want to convey, and I try to develop the characters and events so as to convey that message the best way possible. Without a goal like that, I found, the events and characters just get out of control and chances are you may never even finish the story.
But any way, I'm going off on a tangent now.
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PLATO
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Of the occupied South
Dec 2002
time: 23:32
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Catherine's Tale
Rurik pulled the bear skin closer around his neck as he stared into the cold mountain day. This would be his 30th winter in these mountains. He had developed the habit of greeting the dawn every morning and contemplating his day. His was a peaceful tribe and they had long ago given up wandering far from his mountains. Yes, he thought of them as his mountains. His father had led the people here when the barbarians had forced them from the plains below, but it mattered not. The winter below was just as harsh as the winter here and here the game was easier to predict. It was nearly time to move the tribe to the next hunting ground. Perhaps this year they would camp a little lower on the mountain and take advantage of the later snowfall. It would be a little farther to the game, but his hunting parties were well provisioned this year. Rurik turned from the rising sun and began to walk back toward the camp, never noticing the meteor trail that appeared over his left shoulder.
Catherine waited in the lifepod for the decent to the surface of this new world. She knew that many hard times would await her below but she knew also that she could overcome them. Her upbringing in the Farsung Mountains had been harsh. The poverty that her people had endured under the republic had been severe while they watched the valley people prosper. The old republic had promised “prosperity for all”. What a joke, she thought. She could only hope that she could find the same type fortitude in some of these “life forms” that had been reported on the planet below. She knew in her heart that Caesar and Bismarck would be trying to rekindle the hatred they had for all living things. So much had come to pass...
“Empress! A communication is coming in from the front,” the excited communications officer turned and nearly yelled at Catherine. It had been nearly a week since she had had any communication with her Generals. Far…far to long. Since this blasted war had started she had never gone more than several hours without an update and now it had been a week! “Read it you idiot!” she nearly screamed. The communications officer turned and began reading the message, “To the Most High Empress Catherine, I am distraught to report the utter decimation of the fourth laser division. The support that we expected from General Pham’s two missile divisions never arrived. I am holding out with a group of 75 commandos in the hills above the Farsung river. The only good news that I have to report is that the enemy has been virtually destroyed before us. I am anticipating starting guerilla operations within the next month as we try to consolidate and repair equipment. I am assuming that the wretched German commander is doing the same, if he still lives. We have received some reports from captured locals that the city of Taloria is even now in open revolt. Our intelligence is very limited now, but we have some indications that popular uprisings are beginning in many areas. There appears to be some of the old Republicists that are organizing this movement. My means are very limited and while I wish to engage Bismarck’s troops when I am able, I can’t help but contemplate if I should try to move on Taloria to put down the revolt. I await your orders. General Cossack, commander, 4th laser division.” Catherine could do nothing but hang her head. She had been holding out her last hope that Cossack’s division could finally bring the Germans to their knees. It had come to this then…her armies were destroyed…her cities in revolt…all that was left was to wait for the inevitable.
Rurik sat around the huge fire with the other elders of his tribe. It had been decided that they would indeed stay lower on the mountain this winter. His people were hardy but he saw no reason to put them through more hardship than they had to endure. This year had seen more births than any year that he could remember. It would be good to let these newborns try to survive in a slightly less demanding climate. Perhaps, if enough survived, they could even add another hunting party in seven or eight years. The council of elders was very cautious though, and they refused to make plans beyond the coming season. Rurik understood this. It was unwise to plan on things beyond the immediate. Life was so harsh in these mountains.
Catherine was overjoyed that her lifepod had landed in the foothills of a great mountain range. Any other leader, she knew, would head for the roving bands she had seen on the plains during her decent, but Catherine had seen something in the mountains too that had given her heart hope. She had seen a bonfire on one of the upper slopes. It had been above the tree line and she knew that meant people. Any group that would choose to live there must be the kind of people she was looking for. She had been climbing for nearly two days now and was invigorated by the cold nights and cool days. She could sense the winter coming and knew that she must find this band quickly. Her very survival depended on befriending them, but she knew that she could…she understood these kind of people.
Her hopes were not in vain as late that afternoon she topped a crest in the ridgeline she had been ascending. There they were! The camp seemed to be in the process of breaking and she stood there and watched these people work. There was much inefficiency in the way that they did things. Her trained eye began to instantly organize things in her mind. She noticed a bearded man standing at the center of the camp. He was staring straight at her. No alarm had been raised…no action of any kind had been taken…he just looked up at her as she looked at him. She decided that the introduction was hers to make and began walking straight toward him. As she approached the camp the activity level began to decrease and more and more of the people stopped what they were doing and watched Catherine. She made her way to the center of the camp and to the bearded man.
Catherine looked Rurik in the eye. It was impossible for her to tell how old the man was. By his face she could tell that he had seen more than one winter and he carried an air of authority in his gaze. “I am Catherine of the Farsung Mountains,” she said. “I am Rurik…Welcome to our camp. What may we do for you?” Catherine had worked out her story well over the days of her ascent to this encampment. “My people in the Farsung Mountains were driven from their camps by the barbarians that dwell in the valleys. We had retreated to the high camps and made weapons but we were too late. The barbarians had had to long to ready for this massacre. All my people have been lost. I survived only because of a hidden trail. We knew of your people from the barbarians. I have journeyed many months to bring you this news and to help you prepare for the coming war. We learned much from our fight and if I can teach your people then maybe we can survive.” Rurik looked hard into Catherine’s eyes. Yes…yes he could see it… she had been involved in battle and he could see the haunting look of having lost it all. Rurik had seen that look in his father’s eyes. “You must come before the council tonight and tell your story. I will not allow my people to suffer at the hands of the barbarian again.” Again? These people had been through this before? Perfect thought Catherine…yes, just perfect. For the first time in what seemed like ages, she smiled. Together, she and Rurik walked toward the fire.
Last edited by PLATO on 09-03-2004 at 06:46
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14-02-2004 04:35
long live Vovan and the Bugs... 
: but the book was pretty good.
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