“What do you mean they march towards LiYarfah?” Lord Tomaz Cilarfa, Duke of BurJuandar, was more surprised than angry. The news had initially shocked him into sitting down, but a second later he pushed himself away from the table and marched to the mural on the west wall, stopping right in front of the circle that represented LiYarfah.
“Why would they march towards LiYarfah?” He turned around to face his War Council. “Could someone tell me why troops from LiBangden, not more than two days march from here, where we face an army of monsters from East Arkra, are now heading towards LiYarfah, at least a four day journey away?”
General Krihul shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. He was glad to have the cieyal and the planning table between himself and his Lordship. Maybe the exasperation would not be so obvious in his voice.
“My Lord, LiYarfah sits near the border –” He was cut off by Lord Tomaz, leaving little chance of unseemly behaviour from a subordinate.
“This army out there did not cross at LiYarfah!” The tension in the Duke’s voice was apparent for all to hear.
General Krihul could not help but glance at the planning table and the markers placed on the map unfurled on it. There were markers representing the many troops of Lord Tomaz’ army. Krihul’s gaze went directly to a marker placed just to the northwest of LiBangden; it marked the current location of troops normally stationed at LiYarfah. General Manasis was leading that force on the shortest path to Castle Juandar, returning from an expedition to a northern neighbour. It was Manasis who reported on the Imperial Garrison’s movements.
As Krihul raised his eyes he noticed Captain Grenald had also been looking at the same marker. It was no secret that some of Lord Tomaz’ advisors thought it unwise to send LiYarfah’s garrison northwards two weeks ago. Alliances being what they were, some begrudgingly agreed Lord Tomaz had no choice in the matter.
“My Lord, if I may, General Manasis is soon to arrive from the vicinity of LiBangden.” General Kanakashash interjected, waving at the marker Krihul and Grenald had moments ago been examining. “And I have dispatched my best Captains to speed along the arrival of our forces from the south.” Here he waved at several markers placed south of their location at the centre of the map.
Lord Tomaz stalked back to the planning table to consider the markers again. They had studied the troop placements many times over the past two days, and it all still seemed futile. The enemy had moved in scattered packs, and they marched quickly. Lord Tomaz had barely enough time to despatch riders to reorganize his armies before the enemy appeared on the doorsteps of his fortress. How an army of over ten thousand could just appear on his doorstep was beyond anyone's explanation.
Lord Tomaz ran a hand over his face, as if to wash away his despair. He understood all too well why the closest Imperial forces could not come to his aid, and yet he had clung on to the hope that his predicament was considered more pressing.
“Too far. And just too few.” Lord Tomaz seemed to be speaking to himself. There was no need to interrupt him; their forces were indeed too few. Within the castle walls there were only six hundred soldiers, barely enough to man the first defence. General Manasis marched with a thousand soldiers, and from the south there were maybe three thousand troops within a two day march. The rest of Lord Tomaz' armies were too far south, defending against another incursion from East Arkra. No one thought the two attacks were unrelated; it was obvious now that whatever master commanded the two armies from East Arkra was more powerful than any encountered in recent memory.
That alone was a discomforting thought. Lord Tomaz was certain that the Imperial Palace was aware of what was transpiring out here near the border. However, the current troubles within the Imperial family triggered by the recent assassination of the heir apparent to the throne did not help matters.
The two thousand strong Imperial Garrison from LiBangden would have been a welcome addition to Castle Juandar's defence. They were a well-equipped and experienced force, led by fearless commanders with an awesome reputation. Where Lord Tomaz had failed the Emperor, his Imperial Majesty's armies would not, for now they marched in defence of the Empire.
They had their priorities. After all, the count was now two armies that had crossed without alerting the Rangers who patrolled the border.
“It begins.” Captain Grenald's deep voice brought everyone's attention back to their present situation. The Captain was watching the cieyal, which had been focused on an overview of the enemies' frontlines. They all turned towards the large brass basin and the images dancing on the surface of the pooled water to watch as the enemies' ranks parted to allow large catapults to be pulled into place by dark, hulking beasts. “By your leave, my Lord.”
Lord Tomaz waved his consent and the Captain turned and quick-marched out of the War Room. General Krihul bowed to the Duke and followed the Captain out.
30 September 2009
29 September 2009
The Lost Emperor, Chapter 2
The door creaked open and a ray of light stabbed into the room. The shadow preceded the page, who squeezed past the barely open doorway and made his way to the Ministers clustered around the only table in the room. Such was the discipline required of all servants in the Duke’s household that even in this, the direst of hours in many a century past, the page walked over to the group instead of ran, arms flailing madly.
It would have been a pretty picture indeed, Minister Yarga thought grimly. If he could reach out with his thoughts he would have urged the boy to run as if he were chased by demons!
As it was, he watched patiently as the young page approached, while his fellow Ministers attempted to discuss their predicament as calmly as arranging for a winter festival. The real planning occurred a few hallways down, in the War Room, with the Generals and his Lordship. By virtue of Imperial Sanction, only Minister Feni Jaelar attended that congregation.
Yarga did not envy the Minister, as he knew Feni had a weak stomach for conflict, and the War Room was where the cieyal was located. They were doubtless surveying the enemy amassed in the lands outside the castle walls to better understand the enemy, the situation, the hope for escape. To hear the rumours was one thing, but to see the enemy through the cieyal would be truly unnerving to a simple man unaccustomed to the dreadfulness of warfare.
At last the young page was close enough to respectfully make his announcement. Yarga detected an excitement in the boy’s face, the way the eyes twitched. The murmured conversations between the Ministers gave way to silent anticipation.
“Honoured Ministers,” he began, stretching himself to his full height, “we have received word that his Imperial Highness has awakened from Trance.” There was an audible sigh of relief from the group.
This was indeed news, and each Minister in the room longed to hear the rest of it, willing the page to verify expectations of Imperial favour. It was their only hope for survival.
“We have also received news that the Imperial Garrison at LiBangden is on the march.” This prompted the other Ministers to burst into excited conversation. Finally! Salvation was on the way.
Minister Yarga maintained a grim outlook. The Commander of the Imperial Garrison was an acquaintance and, living so close to the border with East Arkra, the possibility of conflict was always a popular topic of conversation. Yarga and the Commander had discussed this very topic on a few occasions. He was not as excited as the others because, unlike even the young page, he knew which way those battalions marched.
And so must those in the War Room.
Yarga raised himself from his seat to stretch his legs. The page, waiting to be dismissed, sought permission from Yarga’s eyes. The Minister waved him away and pondered if there would be other news later in the day.
After all, the Emperor was no longer in Trance.
It would have been a pretty picture indeed, Minister Yarga thought grimly. If he could reach out with his thoughts he would have urged the boy to run as if he were chased by demons!
As it was, he watched patiently as the young page approached, while his fellow Ministers attempted to discuss their predicament as calmly as arranging for a winter festival. The real planning occurred a few hallways down, in the War Room, with the Generals and his Lordship. By virtue of Imperial Sanction, only Minister Feni Jaelar attended that congregation.
Yarga did not envy the Minister, as he knew Feni had a weak stomach for conflict, and the War Room was where the cieyal was located. They were doubtless surveying the enemy amassed in the lands outside the castle walls to better understand the enemy, the situation, the hope for escape. To hear the rumours was one thing, but to see the enemy through the cieyal would be truly unnerving to a simple man unaccustomed to the dreadfulness of warfare.
At last the young page was close enough to respectfully make his announcement. Yarga detected an excitement in the boy’s face, the way the eyes twitched. The murmured conversations between the Ministers gave way to silent anticipation.
“Honoured Ministers,” he began, stretching himself to his full height, “we have received word that his Imperial Highness has awakened from Trance.” There was an audible sigh of relief from the group.
This was indeed news, and each Minister in the room longed to hear the rest of it, willing the page to verify expectations of Imperial favour. It was their only hope for survival.
“We have also received news that the Imperial Garrison at LiBangden is on the march.” This prompted the other Ministers to burst into excited conversation. Finally! Salvation was on the way.
Minister Yarga maintained a grim outlook. The Commander of the Imperial Garrison was an acquaintance and, living so close to the border with East Arkra, the possibility of conflict was always a popular topic of conversation. Yarga and the Commander had discussed this very topic on a few occasions. He was not as excited as the others because, unlike even the young page, he knew which way those battalions marched.
And so must those in the War Room.
Yarga raised himself from his seat to stretch his legs. The page, waiting to be dismissed, sought permission from Yarga’s eyes. The Minister waved him away and pondered if there would be other news later in the day.
After all, the Emperor was no longer in Trance.
24 September 2009
The Lost Emperor, Chapter 1
The most heavily defended city in all of South Arkra was the Imperial Capital, Jurathia, named after an Empress from Ages past. Many have seen the wonders of this sprawling city.
At the center of Jurathia was the most heavily guarded building in the land, the Imperial Palace. Sitting atop a hill, there were spectacular views of the Imperial Capital, the mountains to the northwest and the plains stretching to the south. Many passed through the gates of the Imperial Palace daily.
Within the Imperial Palace, deep in its heart, was the most heavily protected room of all. It was known simply as the Trance Room. Most have heard rumours of the room; very few have stepped foot within its confines.
The Trance Room was a square room with two small unassuming doors. One led to an antechamber which opened up to a hallway and a flight of stairs on either end. The other led to a small retiring chamber. The walls of the Trance Room were heavily inscribed with runes, both visible and invisible. In the centre was a circular pedestal with three wide steps, and at the top sat a white marble throne, in stark contrast to the red stone of the rest of the room. The room was lit by a silvery glow emanating from four crystal balls placed on pillars standing at shoulder-height at each corner of the room. The light from these crystal balls would sometimes dim to the brightness of a solitary candle, and would sometimes brighten to a degree that the room seemed open to the noon sun. Those entering the room were always wary for these changes in illumination.
The Emperor would always be conditioned for these changes in lighting, for he spent the most time in the Trance Room.
When Mal Jiyun entered the Trance Room from the antechamber, three of the crystal balls glowed like a full moon, whereas the one in the far right corner was hardly noticeable. As he stepped closer to the throne he noticed the blue shimmer of the magical shield that surrounded the top step of the pedestal and the throne like an egg shell. The only sound in the room was the soft rustling of his robes as he walked, amplified in his ears by the otherwise oppressive silence of the room.
At the foot of the pedestal Mal paused for a respectful bow towards the figure of the Emperor. The Emperor, seated in his throne, unmoving, was in Trance and therefore would not notice Mal, but he was still the supreme ruler of South Arkra.
Slowly, and with carefully measured steps, Mal climbed the pedestal until he was inches away from the shimmering magical shield protecting the Emperor. It was always unnerving being this close to the Emperor, watching him in Trance, eyes wide open, immobile as a statue. Mal leaned in as close as he could without feeling the burn of the shield; from his vantage point slightly to the right of the Emperor he could see the Emperor’s lips were indeed parted ever so slightly, as reported by the previous Watcher.
His attention focused on the Emperor’s frozen face, Mal did not notice when all four crystal balls dimmed. It was only when the Emperor’s face seemed more lit by the shimmering blue shield that Mal realized how dark the Trance Room had become. Just as he turned to inspect the nearest crystal ball behind him, the room was thrown into sudden daylight. Caught off-guard he did not hear the pop of the magical shield dropping into the floor.
“Watcher.” It was the Emperor’s soft whisper that Mal heard first.
Shocked into action, the young Watcher ran down the pedestal, almost tripping on his own robes. He turned at the bottom and went down on one knee. As he was lowering his head he noticed the Emperor gesture towards him.
“Come up here Watcher.” The Emperor waved at Mal to rise up the steps. “How do you expect to hear me properly from all the way down there?”
Mal stood up and retraced his careful steps up the pedestal again, taking the time to catch his breath. Once at the top, he approached the marble throne, keeping his eyes low.
“Your Majesty, I am Mal Jiyun.” Mal bowed his head perfunctorily.
“Come closer, Mal Jiyun. You must be a new Watcher.” The Emperor’s voice was coming out raspy, from a throat too long dry. “Lean your ear close to me.”
Mal did as commanded, stepping closer to the throne and leaning his head down to hear clearer.
“There is a balmaj coming down the stairs right now. Tell him to report to Master Seyarn that I have asked for balmaj Aramus Jilarni.” The Emperor pronounced the name slowly, for Mal’s benefit. “Remember that name.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Balmaj Aramus Jilarni. It will be done.”
“Now, Mal Jiyun.” The Emperor gripped the arms of his throne and pushed himself up. Mal had backed away and was now rushing to the antechamber door. The Emperor went around the throne and slowly traced a path down the pedestal and towards the retiring room. He longed to quench his thirst with the water provisioned there.
Inside the rear chamber the Emperor found a seat and drank sweetened water from a flask. The Watchers made sure to keep a fresh stock of provisions in the retiring room. Over the centuries the Watchers had learned what provisions would be best suited for the Emperor waking from Trance: lots of liquids and fruits. While waiting for the balmaj he had summoned, the Emperor crunched on a crisp apple, stretched his legs before him and reviewed the visions from which he had just awakened.
He did not have long to wait. The door on the far side of the Trance Room opened and he heard someone running in. The figure that came into sight wore the half-robes of a balmaj and had the requisite glowing blue eyes from perpetual mage vision. Aramus Jilarni stood as tall as an average man, shorter than the Emperor, and had the shoulders and arms of one trained in heavy swordplay. His dark hair fell to his shoulders and he wore it free. On his left hand he wore the three rings that marked him as an Emissary of His Imperial Highness, the Emperor of South Arkra. He ran effortlessly, his body conditioned to physical exertion, unhampered by the sword strapped across his back.
Aramus paused at the doorway to the small room the Emperor rested in, his fingers pulling runes from the ether. He put together a simple spell and released it as he drew closer to the Emperor, enveloping the Emperor and himself in an invisible globe of silence. Whatever orders he received from the Emperor would be heard by his ears alone.
“My Lord, I am Aramus Jilarni.” Aramus knelt in front of the Emperor and raised his face to his Master.
Emperor DeGarak II, Master of the Balmaj, paused to consider Aramus. Images from his visions passed through his mind.
“I have found the Lost Emperor.” Only the upper ranks of the balmaj knew the truth behind the myth. From Aramus’ unchanged expression, and the sharp intake of breath, the Emperor judged Aramus had already been inducted into those rare ranks. “He is in danger now and must be protected. You cannot fail. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord. My life for his.” His response required no forethought. His only purpose was to serve in the protection of the Emperor and the Empire.
Aramus considered the Emperor’s news. In view of the current conflicts within the Imperial family, the Lost Emperor would be highly sought after by many parties. It was highly unlikely that the identity of the Lost Emperor was known to anyone. Even the Emperor had spent weeks in Trance searching for his identity.
Yet, Master Seyarn had warned them about enemies from other lands. Every day now there were reports from the border with East Arkra; some of it alarmed Master Seyarn enough to send personal scouts. If only Aramus could know what those scouts reported. As it was, he would have to piece things together himself.
The Emperor stood and began to walk out; Aramus followed him, maintaining the globe of silence surrounding them.
“Go to Castle Juandar, near the border. They are under attack. I will instruct Master Seyarn to send some balmaj to assist, but their task is only to distract.” The Emperor glanced askance at Aramus. You must be my eyes there. When the Lost Emperor is found, I will inform you. This last the Emperor sent into Aramus’ mind.
Aramus felt the urgency behind the missive. Much was happening already.
At the center of Jurathia was the most heavily guarded building in the land, the Imperial Palace. Sitting atop a hill, there were spectacular views of the Imperial Capital, the mountains to the northwest and the plains stretching to the south. Many passed through the gates of the Imperial Palace daily.
Within the Imperial Palace, deep in its heart, was the most heavily protected room of all. It was known simply as the Trance Room. Most have heard rumours of the room; very few have stepped foot within its confines.
The Trance Room was a square room with two small unassuming doors. One led to an antechamber which opened up to a hallway and a flight of stairs on either end. The other led to a small retiring chamber. The walls of the Trance Room were heavily inscribed with runes, both visible and invisible. In the centre was a circular pedestal with three wide steps, and at the top sat a white marble throne, in stark contrast to the red stone of the rest of the room. The room was lit by a silvery glow emanating from four crystal balls placed on pillars standing at shoulder-height at each corner of the room. The light from these crystal balls would sometimes dim to the brightness of a solitary candle, and would sometimes brighten to a degree that the room seemed open to the noon sun. Those entering the room were always wary for these changes in illumination.
The Emperor would always be conditioned for these changes in lighting, for he spent the most time in the Trance Room.
When Mal Jiyun entered the Trance Room from the antechamber, three of the crystal balls glowed like a full moon, whereas the one in the far right corner was hardly noticeable. As he stepped closer to the throne he noticed the blue shimmer of the magical shield that surrounded the top step of the pedestal and the throne like an egg shell. The only sound in the room was the soft rustling of his robes as he walked, amplified in his ears by the otherwise oppressive silence of the room.
At the foot of the pedestal Mal paused for a respectful bow towards the figure of the Emperor. The Emperor, seated in his throne, unmoving, was in Trance and therefore would not notice Mal, but he was still the supreme ruler of South Arkra.
Slowly, and with carefully measured steps, Mal climbed the pedestal until he was inches away from the shimmering magical shield protecting the Emperor. It was always unnerving being this close to the Emperor, watching him in Trance, eyes wide open, immobile as a statue. Mal leaned in as close as he could without feeling the burn of the shield; from his vantage point slightly to the right of the Emperor he could see the Emperor’s lips were indeed parted ever so slightly, as reported by the previous Watcher.
His attention focused on the Emperor’s frozen face, Mal did not notice when all four crystal balls dimmed. It was only when the Emperor’s face seemed more lit by the shimmering blue shield that Mal realized how dark the Trance Room had become. Just as he turned to inspect the nearest crystal ball behind him, the room was thrown into sudden daylight. Caught off-guard he did not hear the pop of the magical shield dropping into the floor.
“Watcher.” It was the Emperor’s soft whisper that Mal heard first.
Shocked into action, the young Watcher ran down the pedestal, almost tripping on his own robes. He turned at the bottom and went down on one knee. As he was lowering his head he noticed the Emperor gesture towards him.
“Come up here Watcher.” The Emperor waved at Mal to rise up the steps. “How do you expect to hear me properly from all the way down there?”
Mal stood up and retraced his careful steps up the pedestal again, taking the time to catch his breath. Once at the top, he approached the marble throne, keeping his eyes low.
“Your Majesty, I am Mal Jiyun.” Mal bowed his head perfunctorily.
“Come closer, Mal Jiyun. You must be a new Watcher.” The Emperor’s voice was coming out raspy, from a throat too long dry. “Lean your ear close to me.”
Mal did as commanded, stepping closer to the throne and leaning his head down to hear clearer.
“There is a balmaj coming down the stairs right now. Tell him to report to Master Seyarn that I have asked for balmaj Aramus Jilarni.” The Emperor pronounced the name slowly, for Mal’s benefit. “Remember that name.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Balmaj Aramus Jilarni. It will be done.”
“Now, Mal Jiyun.” The Emperor gripped the arms of his throne and pushed himself up. Mal had backed away and was now rushing to the antechamber door. The Emperor went around the throne and slowly traced a path down the pedestal and towards the retiring room. He longed to quench his thirst with the water provisioned there.
Inside the rear chamber the Emperor found a seat and drank sweetened water from a flask. The Watchers made sure to keep a fresh stock of provisions in the retiring room. Over the centuries the Watchers had learned what provisions would be best suited for the Emperor waking from Trance: lots of liquids and fruits. While waiting for the balmaj he had summoned, the Emperor crunched on a crisp apple, stretched his legs before him and reviewed the visions from which he had just awakened.
He did not have long to wait. The door on the far side of the Trance Room opened and he heard someone running in. The figure that came into sight wore the half-robes of a balmaj and had the requisite glowing blue eyes from perpetual mage vision. Aramus Jilarni stood as tall as an average man, shorter than the Emperor, and had the shoulders and arms of one trained in heavy swordplay. His dark hair fell to his shoulders and he wore it free. On his left hand he wore the three rings that marked him as an Emissary of His Imperial Highness, the Emperor of South Arkra. He ran effortlessly, his body conditioned to physical exertion, unhampered by the sword strapped across his back.
Aramus paused at the doorway to the small room the Emperor rested in, his fingers pulling runes from the ether. He put together a simple spell and released it as he drew closer to the Emperor, enveloping the Emperor and himself in an invisible globe of silence. Whatever orders he received from the Emperor would be heard by his ears alone.
“My Lord, I am Aramus Jilarni.” Aramus knelt in front of the Emperor and raised his face to his Master.
Emperor DeGarak II, Master of the Balmaj, paused to consider Aramus. Images from his visions passed through his mind.
“I have found the Lost Emperor.” Only the upper ranks of the balmaj knew the truth behind the myth. From Aramus’ unchanged expression, and the sharp intake of breath, the Emperor judged Aramus had already been inducted into those rare ranks. “He is in danger now and must be protected. You cannot fail. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord. My life for his.” His response required no forethought. His only purpose was to serve in the protection of the Emperor and the Empire.
Aramus considered the Emperor’s news. In view of the current conflicts within the Imperial family, the Lost Emperor would be highly sought after by many parties. It was highly unlikely that the identity of the Lost Emperor was known to anyone. Even the Emperor had spent weeks in Trance searching for his identity.
Yet, Master Seyarn had warned them about enemies from other lands. Every day now there were reports from the border with East Arkra; some of it alarmed Master Seyarn enough to send personal scouts. If only Aramus could know what those scouts reported. As it was, he would have to piece things together himself.
The Emperor stood and began to walk out; Aramus followed him, maintaining the globe of silence surrounding them.
“Go to Castle Juandar, near the border. They are under attack. I will instruct Master Seyarn to send some balmaj to assist, but their task is only to distract.” The Emperor glanced askance at Aramus. You must be my eyes there. When the Lost Emperor is found, I will inform you. This last the Emperor sent into Aramus’ mind.
Aramus felt the urgency behind the missive. Much was happening already.
NaNoWriMo 2007 – The Lost Emperor
In October 2007, when someone introduced me to NaNoWriMo, I thought it was a cool idea. I also thought it might provide me the impetus to keep at a writing project. That’s why I signed up after a few days thought.
The story I started writing was one that had been bouncing around in my head for some time already. It wasn’t a complete story in my head; just elements of a story. NaNoWriMo gave me the chance to start pulling the disparate parts into a coherent tale. I’m still not certain how it’s going to end up, since I wrote it without an outline. NaNoWriMo is about getting your “writing juices” flowing, and just writing as the ideas hit you, aiming for a 50,000 word target in a month. I didn’t even reach ten percent of the word target though, since I’m too much of a perfectionist to just type without a filter. I still spend too much time considering how to write, instead of writing. Hopefully, with more practice writing, that filter will process faster.
For NaNoWriMo, I didn’t write in chapters. Later, I edited what I had written a bit, and divided it into chapters. It’s still a work in progress, and I would like to finish it someday. What I’ll be posting here are the first five chapters. Chapter five was finished post-NaNoWriMo 2007. The rest will come as and when I write it and am happy enough with it to share.
The story I started writing was one that had been bouncing around in my head for some time already. It wasn’t a complete story in my head; just elements of a story. NaNoWriMo gave me the chance to start pulling the disparate parts into a coherent tale. I’m still not certain how it’s going to end up, since I wrote it without an outline. NaNoWriMo is about getting your “writing juices” flowing, and just writing as the ideas hit you, aiming for a 50,000 word target in a month. I didn’t even reach ten percent of the word target though, since I’m too much of a perfectionist to just type without a filter. I still spend too much time considering how to write, instead of writing. Hopefully, with more practice writing, that filter will process faster.
For NaNoWriMo, I didn’t write in chapters. Later, I edited what I had written a bit, and divided it into chapters. It’s still a work in progress, and I would like to finish it someday. What I’ll be posting here are the first five chapters. Chapter five was finished post-NaNoWriMo 2007. The rest will come as and when I write it and am happy enough with it to share.
08 September 2009
About Mission: Evacuation, Episode 1
Mission: Evacuation is the first piece of fan fiction of an established universe that I have tried. The setting is the PC game Total Annihilation (TA), which, admittedly, didn’t have a very detailed universe. TA was a revolutionary real-time strategy game that came out in 1997, but I won’t go into the merits of the game here. Even though story was not the strong point for the game, TA was very popular in its time. With that popularity came the fan fiction.
Many people drew on the basic threads established by the game’s creators and wove their own stories, sometimes with only the most tenuous of links to the original story. The premise of the game was simple: two warring factions have waged deadly battle over centuries, spanning galaxies in their conquests. One side, the Arm, and the other side, the Core. Some backstory was provided in the campaign mode of the game, but there were more questions than answers. So when the fans started writing their own stories, there were many different takes on the universe.
I wrote my own fan fiction during Christmas break, 1998. It was my first time writing fan fiction, but it was easy considering I didn’t have much canon to consider. I wanted to bring a more human element to the universe, since too much focus had already been given to the “mechanical” aspects of war. I have fixed some spelling and glaring grammatical errors in this first story, but otherwise it is left intact. I had started on Episode 2, but did not get far, and I’m not sure I will continue this.
Many people drew on the basic threads established by the game’s creators and wove their own stories, sometimes with only the most tenuous of links to the original story. The premise of the game was simple: two warring factions have waged deadly battle over centuries, spanning galaxies in their conquests. One side, the Arm, and the other side, the Core. Some backstory was provided in the campaign mode of the game, but there were more questions than answers. So when the fans started writing their own stories, there were many different takes on the universe.
I wrote my own fan fiction during Christmas break, 1998. It was my first time writing fan fiction, but it was easy considering I didn’t have much canon to consider. I wanted to bring a more human element to the universe, since too much focus had already been given to the “mechanical” aspects of war. I have fixed some spelling and glaring grammatical errors in this first story, but otherwise it is left intact. I had started on Episode 2, but did not get far, and I’m not sure I will continue this.
Mission: Evacuation, Episode 1
Three minutes after coming through the gate and I was under attack. Not much of an attack, but an attack nonetheless. Three AK's and two Storms don't give me any concern (I barely noticed them), but now the Core was alerted to my position. They knew an Arm Commander was on the scene. After a few seconds of self debate about the ramifications of this revelation I decided I liked the idea that they knew I was around.
As I worked my nanolathe building my support structures, I reviewed my orders and my priorities. My orders were simple. There was a Genesis Station on this unnamed planet; don't let the Core forces breach it. The situation itself was far more complex.
Commander Syrnak looked down the small hill at his defenses as they fought off Core forces. It was the third attack from this flank of his base. He had no reason to actually be present other than to satisfy his curiosity. Why was the Core attacking here? And with light forces only? It made no sense to him.
Commander Syrnak shifted his gaze to the distant horizon; spoke through the comlink, "Well? I assume this is about the Wolverine unit design."
"You are certain this line is secured? From both the Core and ... our side?"
"Yes." How many times do I have to tell you? The bureaucrat from Strategic Planning And Review was being overly cautious! "You know damn well it is," he said, exasperation leaking through. "Now, tell me what is so important to justify a Priority Alpha-One call?"
A moment of silence, then, "You're being reassigned. The current situation will be handled by your second-in-command, and -"
"Wait a minute. Why am I not getting this from Central Command?"
"Well, things are a little delicate. CC did not like the decision the SPAR Council came to. CC has full knowledge of what we're doing here."
Full knowledge! Yeah, right! "My obedience is to -"
"Yourself. Your obedience ... is to yourself, first. Hear me out, Commander Syrnak. Trust me, you want to hear me out. You're needed for a Genesis Station evacuation."
Genesis Station evac? Didn't Reflin just complete training for that?
As if reading his mind, the other voice continued, "Commander Reflin is being side-stepped. You've done six full evacs, making you the most experienced. We need you." Then, as if for further emphasis, he added, "The zone is red-tagged. Level three."
There was no hesitation from Syrnak; he was, after all, a professional. "Profile population?"
"Twenty three."
"You'd better be talking about twenty three hundred, and not thousand, or more. Why didn't you contact me when you blue-tagged the zone?"
"It was never blue-tagged."
Better start counting the surprises. That's number one.
"And I'm talking about a much smaller number than twenty three thousand."
Number two?
"I mean twenty three. Exactly."
No!
"They're all Commanders, Third Generation."
NO!
"Commander Syrnak, your Originator profile is one of them."
Syrnak's surroundings melted away from his consciousness, isolating him in his own thoughts, leaving nothing of the outside world but the voice on the other end of the comlink.
"Zone coordinates and other details have been transmitted to the Gate. The Wolverine unit has been approved for operational status. Commander Syrnak? Good luck."
Silence.
The comlink hissed static, then his end of the comlink shut down. His suit automatically erased all memory of the Priority Alpha-One transmission. His mind did not.
One element of the outside world entered his consciousness. The Galactic Gate.
Yes. I have a mission... THEY ARE NOT GOING TO KILL ME!
"Peeper Flight 4, this is GS Command. We need a visual sweep of Sector 12-3."
Human hands rested lightly on the armrests of a command chair. Three of the four screens the chair faced came to life as the info feed from three Peepers was directed to the station. Station Commander Degault glanced to his right as the Terrain Display Unit came to life, tracing a three-dimensional holographic projection of Sector 12-3 from its memory banks.
An artificial voice inquired, "Specify data projection protocols."
Degault answered, "Recon-1."
"Recalling Recon-1 protocols. Dark-paint visual areas. Mark all radar contacts. Iconize confirmed units and track. Warn on possible security leaks. Recon-1 protocol now in effect."
Degault forced himself to watch the TDU, even though he wanted to watch the forward sensor feeds from the Peepers. As if he knew he couldn't rely on his self-discipline alone, Degault pressed down on a switch and the command chair rotated slowly to the right. As the chair came to a halt, three triangles appeared on the near edge of the TDU projection. The triangles were moving at a rapid rate towards one of the far corners. Degault threw an occasional sideways glance at the three screens, as if he could see something on them first.
His attention was soon fully on the TDU as three red dots appeared on the display. The Peepers changed course to intercept the radar contacts. Degault knew they would fly by at too high a speed for him to make out any details on the view-screens, so he kept his eye on the TDU, waiting for it to transform the data into a form he could more easily recognize. More red dots appeared in two other clusters as the Peepers came closer to the original contacts. As the Peepers came into visual range of the contacts the TDU interpreted the information and the red dots coalesced into identifiable icons. They were Arm units; two solar collectors and a metal extractor where there wasn't supposed to be anything. The Peepers changed course again to sweep over the other two clusters. The second cluster was another two solar collectors and a light laser tower hidden behind some trees. As they neared the third cluster they picked up another lone contact deep in some nearby forest. The third cluster was a solar collector, a level one Arm k-bot lab, a Construction K-bot, and a missile tower which did not turn to fire at the Peepers.
Degault was almost sure now of what the Peepers would find, but it was best to be certain. After all, the Core had managed to get their hands on Arm units before. As the Peepers raced towards the last unconfirmed contact, Degault reined in his hope.
The red dot coalesced into a form which was very familiar to Degault. He leaned forward in his chair, opened a channel to the Peepers, and barely whispered, "Identity-check that last contact."
A moment passed before the reply came back, "GS Command, this is Peeper Flight 4. We have a confirmed identity-check on last unit contact. I repeat, we have a confirmed identity-check on last unit contact."
An Arm Commander!
Degault leaned back and let hope recharge his tired body.
A flight of Peepers came to greet me to this new world. No doubt they were responding to the power surge in the Gate. They requested an identity-check from me in the second fly-by; a prudent move.
It didn't take much longer before I was hooked into the energy and metal distribution system. Then I began my work in earnest. First, I would need to be briefed by the commander-in-charge. Then I would have to verify all the latest intel, personally. Finally, I could begin evac preparations. My initial impression of the mission was that it could take a while.
As I worked my nanolathe building my support structures, I reviewed my orders and my priorities. My orders were simple. There was a Genesis Station on this unnamed planet; don't let the Core forces breach it. The situation itself was far more complex.
Commander Syrnak looked down the small hill at his defenses as they fought off Core forces. It was the third attack from this flank of his base. He had no reason to actually be present other than to satisfy his curiosity. Why was the Core attacking here? And with light forces only? It made no sense to him.
Commander Syrnak shifted his gaze to the distant horizon; spoke through the comlink, "Well? I assume this is about the Wolverine unit design."
"You are certain this line is secured? From both the Core and ... our side?"
"Yes." How many times do I have to tell you? The bureaucrat from Strategic Planning And Review was being overly cautious! "You know damn well it is," he said, exasperation leaking through. "Now, tell me what is so important to justify a Priority Alpha-One call?"
A moment of silence, then, "You're being reassigned. The current situation will be handled by your second-in-command, and -"
"Wait a minute. Why am I not getting this from Central Command?"
"Well, things are a little delicate. CC did not like the decision the SPAR Council came to. CC has full knowledge of what we're doing here."
Full knowledge! Yeah, right! "My obedience is to -"
"Yourself. Your obedience ... is to yourself, first. Hear me out, Commander Syrnak. Trust me, you want to hear me out. You're needed for a Genesis Station evacuation."
Genesis Station evac? Didn't Reflin just complete training for that?
As if reading his mind, the other voice continued, "Commander Reflin is being side-stepped. You've done six full evacs, making you the most experienced. We need you." Then, as if for further emphasis, he added, "The zone is red-tagged. Level three."
There was no hesitation from Syrnak; he was, after all, a professional. "Profile population?"
"Twenty three."
"You'd better be talking about twenty three hundred, and not thousand, or more. Why didn't you contact me when you blue-tagged the zone?"
"It was never blue-tagged."
Better start counting the surprises. That's number one.
"And I'm talking about a much smaller number than twenty three thousand."
Number two?
"I mean twenty three. Exactly."
No!
"They're all Commanders, Third Generation."
NO!
"Commander Syrnak, your Originator profile is one of them."
Syrnak's surroundings melted away from his consciousness, isolating him in his own thoughts, leaving nothing of the outside world but the voice on the other end of the comlink.
"Zone coordinates and other details have been transmitted to the Gate. The Wolverine unit has been approved for operational status. Commander Syrnak? Good luck."
Silence.
The comlink hissed static, then his end of the comlink shut down. His suit automatically erased all memory of the Priority Alpha-One transmission. His mind did not.
One element of the outside world entered his consciousness. The Galactic Gate.
Yes. I have a mission... THEY ARE NOT GOING TO KILL ME!
"Peeper Flight 4, this is GS Command. We need a visual sweep of Sector 12-3."
Human hands rested lightly on the armrests of a command chair. Three of the four screens the chair faced came to life as the info feed from three Peepers was directed to the station. Station Commander Degault glanced to his right as the Terrain Display Unit came to life, tracing a three-dimensional holographic projection of Sector 12-3 from its memory banks.
An artificial voice inquired, "Specify data projection protocols."
Degault answered, "Recon-1."
"Recalling Recon-1 protocols. Dark-paint visual areas. Mark all radar contacts. Iconize confirmed units and track. Warn on possible security leaks. Recon-1 protocol now in effect."
Degault forced himself to watch the TDU, even though he wanted to watch the forward sensor feeds from the Peepers. As if he knew he couldn't rely on his self-discipline alone, Degault pressed down on a switch and the command chair rotated slowly to the right. As the chair came to a halt, three triangles appeared on the near edge of the TDU projection. The triangles were moving at a rapid rate towards one of the far corners. Degault threw an occasional sideways glance at the three screens, as if he could see something on them first.
His attention was soon fully on the TDU as three red dots appeared on the display. The Peepers changed course to intercept the radar contacts. Degault knew they would fly by at too high a speed for him to make out any details on the view-screens, so he kept his eye on the TDU, waiting for it to transform the data into a form he could more easily recognize. More red dots appeared in two other clusters as the Peepers came closer to the original contacts. As the Peepers came into visual range of the contacts the TDU interpreted the information and the red dots coalesced into identifiable icons. They were Arm units; two solar collectors and a metal extractor where there wasn't supposed to be anything. The Peepers changed course again to sweep over the other two clusters. The second cluster was another two solar collectors and a light laser tower hidden behind some trees. As they neared the third cluster they picked up another lone contact deep in some nearby forest. The third cluster was a solar collector, a level one Arm k-bot lab, a Construction K-bot, and a missile tower which did not turn to fire at the Peepers.
Degault was almost sure now of what the Peepers would find, but it was best to be certain. After all, the Core had managed to get their hands on Arm units before. As the Peepers raced towards the last unconfirmed contact, Degault reined in his hope.
The red dot coalesced into a form which was very familiar to Degault. He leaned forward in his chair, opened a channel to the Peepers, and barely whispered, "Identity-check that last contact."
A moment passed before the reply came back, "GS Command, this is Peeper Flight 4. We have a confirmed identity-check on last unit contact. I repeat, we have a confirmed identity-check on last unit contact."
An Arm Commander!
Degault leaned back and let hope recharge his tired body.
A flight of Peepers came to greet me to this new world. No doubt they were responding to the power surge in the Gate. They requested an identity-check from me in the second fly-by; a prudent move.
It didn't take much longer before I was hooked into the energy and metal distribution system. Then I began my work in earnest. First, I would need to be briefed by the commander-in-charge. Then I would have to verify all the latest intel, personally. Finally, I could begin evac preparations. My initial impression of the mission was that it could take a while.
03 September 2009
About A Beginning in Sight
After a short break from Utopia, I recreated an account. I don’t recall the exact timeline, but I wrote another story around that time and dated it in Age 15 (Q1 2002). I didn’t share the story with my Kingdom-mates for some reason or another, although I did post it to my GeoCities page.
It’s not a coincidence that this story was written around the time of my other two short stories, “A Crazy World” and “The Keys”. I was in the writing mood, and it’s obvious I was projecting myself onto the characters I created.
There’s actually not much in this story, except a reference to game mechanics that dates the tale (Storms negate Droughts, and vice versa, which seems logical enough, but was only just then introduced to the game), and a light-hearted exploration of Dhuergar’s and Qualath’s friendship. In the end, Dhuergar’s practicality tugs the two back into the harsh realities of their world, just as I too learned to let go of what had to end.
It’s not a coincidence that this story was written around the time of my other two short stories, “A Crazy World” and “The Keys”. I was in the writing mood, and it’s obvious I was projecting myself onto the characters I created.
There’s actually not much in this story, except a reference to game mechanics that dates the tale (Storms negate Droughts, and vice versa, which seems logical enough, but was only just then introduced to the game), and a light-hearted exploration of Dhuergar’s and Qualath’s friendship. In the end, Dhuergar’s practicality tugs the two back into the harsh realities of their world, just as I too learned to let go of what had to end.
02 September 2009
About Homeward Bound
My second Utopia-based fiction was written as an introduction piece to a new Kingdom. It was Age 11 (Q1 2001, soon after I left Canada) and I had actually done the unthinkable. I had traded into an existing Kingdom, taking over someone else’s province. This is expressly forbidden by the rules of the game, though many people did it. The main motivation was either to move into SK’s (Super Kingdoms), or to join people you knew. For me, it was the latter reason. My own Kingdom was dying a natural death, and my then-girlfriend had an opening in her Kingdom due to someone announcing his intention to leave. Hers was a good Kingdom, with a good track record, and a group of players who had proven their ability to play together as a team. So I traded in, despite my earlier conviction that trading wasn’t good for the game.
I made reference to my trading in the story, with the notion that Dhuergar rules the province by proxy, since in-game, I was not playing Dhuergar Warhammer. I can’t remember the name of the province or its ruler. All I remember is that it was a dwarf province, which is lucky for me, because I know how to play a dwarf province.
In the story I also gave an indication of my game-playing experience, by mentioning all the different races I had experience with (Dwarf, Elf, Avian, Faery, Human, Halfling). In fact, I’ve tried all the different races in Utopia, including Undead and the “newer” Gnome (replacing Halfling) and Dark Elf (replacing Faery), except for Orc. The mechanics of the Orc race don’t suit my play style very well, so they’re the only race I’ve never played on any of the Utopia servers. Besides, I could never imagine Dhuergar Warhammer as ruler of an Orcish province!
Incidentally, I didn’t stay in that Kingdom for too long. A few Ages later, my province was deleted, most likely for being a traded account. I can’t confirm that of course, but I suspect that, since a few of us from the Kingdom were deleted in one purge. It was quite common for Swirve to purge the servers of multi accounts or other cheaters every once in a while. By the time I was deleted, I didn’t mind it. My ex had already stopped playing, and I had no particular attachment to the Kingdom, so I took a hiatus from the game when it happened. It was a break I needed.
I made reference to my trading in the story, with the notion that Dhuergar rules the province by proxy, since in-game, I was not playing Dhuergar Warhammer. I can’t remember the name of the province or its ruler. All I remember is that it was a dwarf province, which is lucky for me, because I know how to play a dwarf province.
In the story I also gave an indication of my game-playing experience, by mentioning all the different races I had experience with (Dwarf, Elf, Avian, Faery, Human, Halfling). In fact, I’ve tried all the different races in Utopia, including Undead and the “newer” Gnome (replacing Halfling) and Dark Elf (replacing Faery), except for Orc. The mechanics of the Orc race don’t suit my play style very well, so they’re the only race I’ve never played on any of the Utopia servers. Besides, I could never imagine Dhuergar Warhammer as ruler of an Orcish province!
Incidentally, I didn’t stay in that Kingdom for too long. A few Ages later, my province was deleted, most likely for being a traded account. I can’t confirm that of course, but I suspect that, since a few of us from the Kingdom were deleted in one purge. It was quite common for Swirve to purge the servers of multi accounts or other cheaters every once in a while. By the time I was deleted, I didn’t mind it. My ex had already stopped playing, and I had no particular attachment to the Kingdom, so I took a hiatus from the game when it happened. It was a break I needed.
01 September 2009
About The Dawn of Sylvan Hold
I started playing Utopia in the Second Age, early 1999. The Third Age, however, was my first full Age playing the game. In my first experience with Utopia I had selected dwarf for race, and named my province Mithrils Hold (no punctuation, since Utopia doesn’t allow for punctuation in names). By the time the Third Age was going to start, I had already grasped some of the basics of the game. Since I had faced difficulties with a dwarf province, I selected the elf race for the Third Age.
My ruler name for the Second Age was Dhuergar Warhammer, a reference to AD&D gray dwarves (duergar) and the Warhammer fantasy world. Plus, the warhammer was often associated with dwarven characters, so that seemed to fit. My province name was just a quick nod to the mythical metal mithril, from Tolkien’s LoTR universe.
When I created my account for the Third Age, I was a little stumped for a ruler name. Then I decided to maintain the one I had used previously, for continuity sake, as well as for role-playing reasons. To this day, I have not changed my ruler name in Utopia. For my province name I just changed the reference from a dwarven reference to an elven (forest) reference.
As an introduction to my Kingdom, I wrote a short story to explain how an elven province came to have a dwarven ruler. I posted the story in the Kingdom’s forum at the beginning of the Age. I can’t remember the reception it received, except that it didn’t start a flurry of role-playing in the Kingdom. Somewhat discouraged, I realized that people played Utopia more for the strategy than anything else, so my role-playing took a backseat. In those early days though I made all my forums posts IC (in character), rarely posting OOC (out of character).
As a bit of Utopia history, in the Third Age, Mehul (the game’s creator) did away with ruler titles. Players were free to prefix their names however they saw fit. The standard titles made their reappearance in a later Age. That bit of history fit well with my story, as I explained how Dhuergar Warhammer would carry no title, having earned none in the eyes of the elves.
My ruler name for the Second Age was Dhuergar Warhammer, a reference to AD&D gray dwarves (duergar) and the Warhammer fantasy world. Plus, the warhammer was often associated with dwarven characters, so that seemed to fit. My province name was just a quick nod to the mythical metal mithril, from Tolkien’s LoTR universe.
When I created my account for the Third Age, I was a little stumped for a ruler name. Then I decided to maintain the one I had used previously, for continuity sake, as well as for role-playing reasons. To this day, I have not changed my ruler name in Utopia. For my province name I just changed the reference from a dwarven reference to an elven (forest) reference.
As an introduction to my Kingdom, I wrote a short story to explain how an elven province came to have a dwarven ruler. I posted the story in the Kingdom’s forum at the beginning of the Age. I can’t remember the reception it received, except that it didn’t start a flurry of role-playing in the Kingdom. Somewhat discouraged, I realized that people played Utopia more for the strategy than anything else, so my role-playing took a backseat. In those early days though I made all my forums posts IC (in character), rarely posting OOC (out of character).
As a bit of Utopia history, in the Third Age, Mehul (the game’s creator) did away with ruler titles. Players were free to prefix their names however they saw fit. The standard titles made their reappearance in a later Age. That bit of history fit well with my story, as I explained how Dhuergar Warhammer would carry no title, having earned none in the eyes of the elves.
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