Testimonial: Jim Rion's Carcerus Edit

A few days ago, I stumbled upon a free editing offer by Jim Rion on Reddit, and since real editing is quite expensive I decided to try it out. Since Mortaevum is too long and still in its draft phase I decided to send him a copy of Carcerus instead.

His feedback was quite interesting to look at. He added missing words, removed superfluous ones and told me when another word would have been more fitting. He also highlighted a few sections where the tone of the narration didn't fit into the overall picture.
One example would be that he replaced "connecting the dots" with "realized", since the first phrase seemed too casual.

Fixing the grammar and style is certainly a worthwile endeavor, but most people might be able to overlook these mistakes as long as they don't get out of hand. However, Jim also called attention to a few passages that weren't clear enough or made no sense, like the fact that it took a whole week for the protagonist to realize that he had nothing to drink. That's something I will have to look out for in my next stories, which is one of the reasons everyone should have at least a few beta-readers, especially if they can't afford a professional editor.

Overall I'm very satisfied with the results and would recommend Jim Rion to anyone. He did make a couple of mistakes, but they were negligible as I still knew what he was getting at. Even an editor is allowed ot make a few mistakes here and there.

You can contact Jim Rion on his website >>

I'm going to fix Carcerus after I'm done with the next Mortaevum chapter, which shouldn't take too long now. But I will not post the revised edition on this blog! It will be published in an anthology when I've got enough short stories to fill it with.

Short Story - Carcerus

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Carcerus

How long have I been trapped inside this house? Weeks? Months? Possibly even years? I've long since lost track in this world devoid of light. I don't even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. Long, brittle hair falls over my bony and wrinkled face, all the way to my shoulders. It had such a lovely shade of black but now it's just gray, white and dirty. And my flawless body had taken on a truly horrendous appearance. I've become so scrawny that most of my bones are clearly visible. Not much of a surprise when my entire nutrition consists of rats. Every attempt at discerning their entry point has proven futile, however, otherwise I might have long since escaped.

The other thing that has kept me going is the foul smelling water in the basement. No one in his right mind would consume dirt-colored fluids but it's not like I have a choice. I've gotten used to it over time, though, at least in so far that I'm not throwing up anymore.

Logic would dictate that none of that could have sustained me for very long, but this place doesn't seem to care about logic, else I would have escaped a long time ago. It looked like a normal, if somewhat desolate, house at first. It wasn't. Far from it, actually.

There are dozens of doors spread across three stories and a basement, none of which lead outside. It does have windows, though, but they can neither be opened nor broken. I've thrown and smashed hundreds of objects into them and couldn't even create a scratch.

Seeing as the obvious escape routes didn't work I had to create one by myself and began to painstakingly remove one brick after another, only to find even more bricks beyond. I took a short nap before proceeding but my entire work had been undone when I woke up.

Following that setback I became desperate and climbed into the fireplace chimney. With my back pressed against one wall and my feet against the other I climbed and scrambled towards the top. Hours passed and the floor vanished into the distance, but whenever I looked up the exit was as far away as it had always been. Trying to escape is futile, isn't it?

In the end I just gave up and returned to the bottom. Is there even a point in escaping? The landscape beyond the windows was nothing but a barren wasteland. There were no trees, no stones, no hills...not even a sky! All I saw was a sea of gray surrounded by eternal darkness.

There was also no life inside this world. Apart from the rats, that is. I did spot something moving through the darkness, though, but I'm not sure that it could be classified as a lifeform—small orbs of light that were scouring the horizon. They came closer with every passing day, till they were right on my “doorstep”. I pressed my face against the windows, trying to see something, anything, but those orbs were just that, no matter how long I gazed at them. My initial description had been dead on. They didn't seem to be dangerous but their numbers grew steadily. If I listened very closely I could even hear faint voices from outside. They made me feel uneasy although I couldn't understand a word they said. It's as if something deep inside my mind was telling me to avoid these creatures. I didn't understand why and I'm still not entirely sure, but I've learned to avoid them.

One day I was watching them like usual when a beam of light hit me squarely in the face. Seething pain shot through my body and I tumbled to the floor while the entire windows was lit up like...like... My memories are slowly but surely fading away. I barely remembered anything to begin with, but since then I've forgotten who I was, where I came from and, most importantly, how I ended up here. Was I kidnapped by extra-dimensional beings? Was I in the middle of a magical experiment that went awry? The last one feels a more reasonable and familiar but I simply can't recall anything. Perhaps I don't want to remember.

Anyway, some time after getting hit by the light I was awoken by a series of tremors. I was terribly confused at first and ran up and down the stairs, searching for the cause. You might assume that I'm an idiot who didn't know what an earthquake is but that's not how it felt like. It came and went in waves and there was a certain rhythm to it.

Bam...Bam...Bam...Pause...Bam...Bam...Bam...

After listening to it for half an hour I finally connected the dots: someone was knocking on my house! I know it sounds ridiculous, but what better way to “knock” on a building that has no doors than by shaking it? I had no idea how to respond to that, though.

“Who's there?” I yelled into thin air without expecting any result whatsoever.

The “knocking” stopped instantaneously and that was it.

I went downstairs to see if anything had changed. The uncomfortable couch with its rickety table was still there. So were the bookshelves that contained nothing but empty volumes. I don't know why I was even checking the furniture. There was no reason for it to change unless something got knocked over.

My gaze wandered across the walls but there was still no door. Disappointed I tried to get a fire going while I listened to the endless ticking of the clock behind me. It took forever to light a single piece of wood and the flame was suffocated by the stifling air soon after.

“What did I do to deserve such a fate?” I screamed and punched the wall in frustration. My knuckles cracked painfully and I howled in pain. “Please, I just want to go home! Haven't I suffered enough?”

Depressed I shuffled up the stairs, returning to the bedroom on the second floor. I closed the door, locked it for no particular reason and gazed out the window—the orbs were still increasing in numbers—and pulled the curtains shut before I went back to sleep.

A Decaying World - Chapter 8: A Glimpse Into The Past

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Chapter 8: A Glimpse Into The Past

After crossing the threshold between worlds Drake's senses were assaulted by the pungent and nauseating smell of decay. It caused his stomach to grumble, ready to empty itself. He pressed a hand upon his mouth and concentrated on blocking the smell, but in the end he could only lessen its impact. A few steps away Maximilian kneeled on the ground, clutching his abdomen. All the color had drained from his face and he was gasping for air. Shortly thereafter his body began to convulse and he rammed his head into the sand over and over again.

“Maximilian! Are you okay?”

“Do I look—” he started to scream but his words were drowned in revolting retching noises.

Drake took a few steps towards his companion. Despite blocking most of it he quickly realized that the scent was getting progressively stronger. Could it be? He turned around and ran into the opposite direction of the swamp. The atrocious smell of decay was replaced by the stifled desert air somewhere along the way. He turned on his heels, returned to Maximilian, grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him away.

Seconds later the royal knight gasped, literally devouring the desert air as if there was no tomorrow. Drake returned the metal flask from earlier and Maximilian gulped down every single drop left within.

“Hah...gosh, I've never smelled something so atrocious. I can even taste it in my mouth!”—he grabbed his bag of supplies, which had been filled with half of Drake's bag, and fished out a couple of apples—“I hope this is enough to wash the taste away.”

While he gobbled down the fruits Drake stared at the swamp. Its layout made absolutely no sense as there was no gradual transition between the mud and the sand. Instead it looked as if it had simply popped into existence one day. Drake's eyes wandered to the left, then to the right.

“Is it just me or does the swamp actually have a sphere-shaped form? I don't see any irregularities, as if someone created it on purpose.”

“Wouldn't surprise me, given the smell. Maybe it's supposed to keep intruders at bay.”

“You think someone lives in there?”

“Maybe. It certainly looks like the kind of hideout you'd expect from a villain. In fictional stories, that is.”

A thick layer of green fog engulfed the swampland, completely hiding the ground and any possible paths from view. The only objects one couldn't miss were the monolithic black trees stretching all the way into the sky. None of them showed any signs of life, though, as they were completely devoid of leaves. Dozens of adventurers had given up on venturing into the swamp after mistaking these for giant demons, which wasn't terribly surprising as many trunks were strangely deformed. Some had even fused together.

“How are we going to get in there now? I doubt the smell will disappear anytime soon.”

Maximilian scratched his head and stared into the air before grabbing his enchanted robe and ripping a big chunk out of it. Then he pulled out another fruit, wrapped it into the piece of cloth and pressed it together till it was drenched in juices, after which he tied it around his face.

“I hope this lasts long enough to get to the temple. Let's hurry!”

The royal knight strode away, Drake close on his heels.

A Decaying World - Mortaevum Teaser

Yesterday I spent about 10 hours working on a short teaser movie for Mortaevum, despite it being only about a minute long. I would have preferred to use completely custom material but that won't happen unless I suddenly learn to draw or someone actually draws something for me, apart from covers, that is.

Anyway, here's the movie.

A Decaying World - Chapter 7: A Rift Between Worlds

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Chapter 7: A Rift Between Worlds

It took them a few hours to reach Desson, a small settlement consisting of nothing more than a handful of beige stone buildings built around a well. Drake had always thought that his home town was one of the smaller villages on Meceruun, but Arlin was a city compared to this desolate town. Judging by the occasional patches of grass it might have been an oasis once but as the old man had told them: the desert won't stop till every trace of life has been extinguished. The village didn't even look like it was inhabited as there wasn't a single person in sight.

“Where is everyone?” asked Maximilian while wiping sweat off his forehead.

“Indoors, I assume. Who'd want to be outside under these conditions?”

Despite having most of his face hidden Drake still felt the immense heat of the desert sun upon his skin. He lost count on how often he stumbled and fell during their journey as the sun continually sapped his energy.

“I thought these cloaks would be a bit more useful,” said Maximilian, wiping the sweat from his forehead once more.

“How about you take it off then and see how worse it gets?” Drake chuckled.

“I'd rather not. Hey, that building looks like a tavern. Might be the perfect place to waste some time while we wait for the temperature to drop.”

Shortly thereafter they stepped through the door and were greeted by complete and utter silence. Every single person in the establishment stared at the newcomers and they could hear sentences like “How did those strangers get here?” or “Maybe they know something about the pillar.” being whispered.

“What? Never seen humans before?” exclaimed Maximilian loudly and the mob was taken aback, instantly returning to whatever they had been doing earlier. Conversations and laughter filled the room as normality ensued.

Short Story - Shadow of Jhola

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Shadow of Jhola

-My first entry-

Dear Diary, my name is Erik Ocild and I'm 38 years old. I serve in the army of Pagan and this might be my last week on earth as the hordes of Golgotha are drawing ever closer to our marvelous city. Most of my friends have died in an offensive which was supposed to stop those monsters once and for all but it failed miserably. All I have left is my wife, who is waiting desperately for me in the small village of Jhola. If Pagan falls so will our home. Perhaps it would have been best to remain there and await our end together.

-The beginning of the end-

Pagan is one of the most beautiful cities in all of Meceruun, as its buildings and walls are made out of white marble which glitters in the sunlight. And thanks to being build by dwarves it's near impenetrable, at least it should have been but the walls have fallen and the hordes have entered the city. Fires rage, buildings crumble, corpses litter the streets...I suppose this is the end. It's only a matter of time till the king gives us his final order: protect the city and its inhabitants at all costs!

-Death-

The city lies in ruins as most districts have been destroyed. There's only one more wall left before the castle itself falls. We've received our order now and will stop them or die trying. I don't expect to write another entry.

Goodbye Lissana.

A Decaying World - Chapter 6: Mirage

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Chapter 6: Mirage

After the beast took over I was banished into the darkness of my mind, only able to see blurry images and listen to the monster's thoughts. The world was plunged into an azure abyss soon after and the vampire's control slipped a little while he fought for his life. I was unable to take over just yet but I could conjure imaginary stairs leading back into the center of my mind. The steps spiraled out of control, turned themselves upside down, became as thin as matchsticks, however, none of his attempts were able to stop me and when I finally reached the top I smashed through a door locked by chains of darkness. Behind it lay a spherical chamber housings hundreds of thousands of light-orbs, all showing moments that had long since passed, although I couldn't remember some of them. A smoke monster swirled through the air and accelerated when it became aware of my instrusion.

“Return to the depths where you belong! I saved your pathetic life and even obeyed your order by taking the human with me. I deserve to be in control for once!”

“You deserve nothing! This is my body, not yours!”

“It is our body and there's nothing you can do about that! Accept your fate and I won't need to take over again!”

“Never!”

Drake materialized a sword in mid-air and grabbed its hilt. It wasn't a shadow sword, though, but one with a crystalline blade. It was bathed in radiant light and started to hum when Drake jumped into the air, ready to battle the beast within.

A Decaying World - Chapter 5: Dying Breath Of Gana Borodem

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Chapter 5: Dying Breath Of Gana Borodem

The light diminished and darkness took over. Drake's body felt like it was on fire but he couldn't see what was happening after being temporarily blinded by the crystal's radiance. He did notice the smell of burned flesh, though, and touched his face with his right arm. His eyes widened in disbelief after noticing the bloody mess that should have been his cheek. What happened?

“You don't look so good, vampire!” responded Maximilian mockingly while pressing his blade into Drake's neck. “Tell me where we are and how I can get back to Pagan and I'll make it quick!”

“How...am I supposed...to know? You...shattered the crystal! And I...can't even see...anything!” Drake was wheezing and trembling, barely able to hold himself upright. It wasn't because of the pain, as vampires have a higher pain threshold than humans, but because most of his energy had been drained.

Maximilian removed his blade and walked in a half-circle across rocky terrain before he spoke once more: “Gosh, you look even worse from the front. Even your eyeballs are burned.”

How did this...was it the light? It has to be, right? He expected an answer from Modera but all he received was a kick to the stomach, which caused him to fall backwards onto rocks.

“Agh, why did you do that?”

“Just making sure that you're not putting on an act. How long will you need to regenerate?”

“I don't...know. I haven't been a vampire...for very long,” his stomach grumbled, as if on cue. “And I don't know...if I have any energy left...to regenerate. What does it even matter...to you? Just kill me already.”

“No, you're not getting off that easy if you can't or won't provide information. And who knows, maybe you can still prove useful as bait for wild animals.”

“I guess we're not in the vicinity...of a city or village?”

“No, we're stuck in the mountains, with cliffs all around us. It's too dark to climb therefore we'll have to spend the night together. That should give you enough time to heal yourself.”

“Don't you...have any potions?” The only potion we need is his blood! Trick him, suck him dry! Shut up!

“Of course I do but I'd have to spend every single one of them to heal wounds as severe as yours. And I'm certainly not going to waste them on an evil creature.”

“I'm not...evil!”

“Sure, you were just playing a little prank by putting every person in the castle to sleep. And I suppose you were joking when you talked about kidnapping me?”

“We didn't do that...because we wanted! Modera...ordered us to.”

“Why?”

“I don't know why!” Drake yelled and suffered a coughing bout.

“Don't strain yourself. We can talk later! Perhaps I'll even believe you this time,” these words were followed by the sound of metal falling onto stones. “I'll try to find some firewood. We have a long night ahead of us. You just stay there.”

“Very funny!”

Maximilian's footsteps would have vanished in the distance but Drake's hearing was going haywire once more. The area was strangely quit, though, only filled by sporadic gusts of air, but Drake was too distracted by his aching skin to care. Maximilian returned 15 minutes later, started a small campfire and went to sleep soon after.

Drake tried to follow his example but was disturbed by strange sounds coming from below: thudding footsteps followed by rattling metal. Whenever they ceased a raspy breathing noise filled the air. Whatever you are, please go away! The moment those thoughts passed his mind the footsteps stopped and the ground shook ever so slightly.

Don't Plan Your Story From Start To Finish

I've learned this lesson years ago while working on my games and it still holds true today. Of course it doesn't mean that you should make everything up as you go along. That way you only end up with a nonsensical mess that you need to fix durig the editing phase, unless you're actually so good that everything connects flawlessly.

You need to know how the story begins and how it ends. And it can't hurt to know a few events that will happen down the road. Everything else can be nothing more than a general idea that you flesh out while writing it. Seeing as Mortaevum was a game first I had nearly everything laid out before me but it's just not fulfilling to keep to a strict plan. If you have an interesting idea that might make for a better story, then write it down! That's exactly what I did with the current chapter. I essentially skipped a few events that happened in the game because they simply aren't interesting nor essential. Of course I had to incorporate some of the events that happened during these scenes into the current chapter but if it leads to a better story it's certainly worth it.

Don't plan everything from the get-go! And even if you do, deviate from your plans if you get better ideas!

Don't try to be perfect!

Seriously, do not try to be perfect! You'll just waste countless hours of your life. You don't know how much time I spent working on my blogs even though most of the changes will never be seen by anyone. I'm also writing reviews on my other (german) blog and everytime I link to one of the reviews I can't help myself and have to look over it one more time, which often leads to at least a few changes.

Why am I telling you this? Because I'm doing it again! Someone is drawing book covers for me and I thought it might be a good idea to go over Don't Play With Slenderman once more before I release it with a new cover...and now I've started rewriting entire passages as I simply didn't like the old ones anymore. I've added about 1000 new words in the process and drew half of the eight pages a second time to make them look somewhat better while keeping them amateurish.
Of course it can't hurt to have a more polished version at hand but I'm sure I would keep finding flaws every time I read it. But people aren't perfect. Most of them will never write a masterpiece, especially not while working on their first book. You can hire an editor if you can afford it but do you really want to work on the same story over and over again till it appears to be perfect enough to be published?
I certainly don't want to do that. So I'm just going to fix it up, add the new cover, publish it once more and that's it! Otherwise I'll never be able to finish Mortaevum and I care too much about the story to let it die a second time.

Don't try to be perfect! Learn from your mistakes and create something better the next time. You'll never be able to get anything done if you go back over and over again to fix everything you've ever made!

A Decaying World - Interlude

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Interlude

 A lone figure clad in white stood in a world devoid of darkness. Its light stretched into infinity, unhindered by obstacles it would have encountered in the physical realm. But despite being a world the darkness cannot touch it is far from being a paradise. It's merely an endless plane without features, a place where you wouldn't even realize that you're moving forward as everything looks the same. More importantly, it's also a place without life, at least the kind of life you're accustomed to. The white-robed man remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, deep in thought since the moment he arrived as he felt that something was off. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be straining his ears although there were no sounds he could have listened to.

“You wanted to talk?” booming voices resounded through the empty world, cutting through the silence.

“Something seems to be wrong. Everything is proceeding in a similar fashion but if the changes continue to accumulate then everything could have been in vain. Especially since he is already stirring.”

“...” a gloomy silence filled the air, even worse than when the white-robed man had entered this realm.

“I've never seen this possibility. I tried so hard to find it among all the noise but it simply doesn't exist! How am I supposed to help him under these circumstances?”

“Something has changed – something that might have ruined everything, but it was the only choice we had,” sadness reverberated throughout the world.

“But why can't I see the deviation?”

“Because it would have endangered our entire existence!”

“You'd rather waste everything I've done than take a risk?” the man's voice was filled with anger.

“...”

“I need to see...” he was desperate now.

“This might be the last time we speak to each other...please, don't let it end like this...”

The world lit up in single flash of light and a sphere of pure energy surrounded the white-robed figure. He fell to his knees, pressed his hands onto his head and began to scream while the realm changed.

The brightness faded away, leaving behind nothing but a muddy gray, and the air itself seemed to ripple, slowly intensifying till a loud crack echoed through the world. The darkness had finally found a way inside...

A Decaying World - Chapter 4: Remnants Of The Marble City [02]

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Chapter 4: Remnants Of The Marble City

When Drake awoke all signs of the attack had disappeared, although he could have sworn that the wardrobe stood in a different place last night. Glenn was already up and about, once again sitting in a chair by the wall and staring at him.

“Is something wrong?”

“What happened tonight?”

“What do you mean? I walked around the city for a while and got lost in the process. When I finally found my way back I...went to sleep, I suppose. I might have visited the pub beforehand though. That would explain the blackout and why my head is pounding.”

“You went to sleep?” asked his father incredulously.

“Yes? Is something wrong with that?”

“I...guess not,” he sighed and picked up a piece of parchment. “Anyway, we've got our audience. The king expects us at 3 P.M. so don't be late! The castle should be hard to miss, seeing as it's the only building that isn't ugly.”

“Just wait a moment, I'll come—” Glenn stormed out of the room before Drake could finish the sentence.

Did I do something wrong?

“No, you didn't. It's all my fault!”

Wait...can we talk through telepathy too?

“Yes. It's one of the few skills that doesn't require us to...drink blood. With enough training we could even control the actions of others, but we don't want that, do we?”

No...I suppose we don't...

“You suppose?”

Well, it could be useful under certain circumstances...

“Don't be stupid! You have to hold on to the remnants of your humanity instead of giving in to the beast!”

Why are so you mad?

“It doesn't matter! Just meet me at the castle in a few hours! Oh, but visit the armor shop beforehand and get yourself a new set. Keep the leather armor though. I doubt anything in Pagan could match it's enchantment, at least anything you could actually afford.”

Silence returned and Drake went to the bathroom to freshen up. He would never choose to live in Pagan instead of Arlin but they had a nifty system in place where you only needed to turn a few knobs to get all the water you needed. You could even heat it up on the way! Drake assumed it to be some kind of magic whereas it was actually an invention created by the dwarves during the Golden Age. They never managed to distribute the system to any human settlements though as the war broke out soon after. It wasn't until hundreds of years later that an expedition led by the Adventurers Guild stumbled upon the plans in an abandoned dwarven outpost. That's one of the reasons they could afford to built such extraordinary guild halls all over the globe.

Drake noticed his blood-shot eyes in the mirror as he dried his face but assumed it to be nothing more than a side effect of his transformation. He was actually more surprised that he had a reflection to begin with but seeing as nearly everything he knew about vampires seemed to be wrong it shouldn't have been much of a surprise. If Modera could have listened in she would have ridiculed him for assuming that an inanimate object would care if he was dead or alive. Isn't there something like a vampire's handbook? Certainly couldn't hurt. With that in mind he left the room.

A Decaying World - Chapter 4: Remnants Of The Marble City [01]

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Chapter 4: Remnants Of The Marble City

The moment I died the world changed: All colors faded away, time slowed down to a crawl and Modera's laughter, as well as every other sound, was replaced by an eerie silence. Not an absolute silence though as I could hear something resembling rolling thunder in the distance, which made me feel uneasy for no discernible reason. It's hard to describe but something began to well up in the deepest recesses of my mind. It can't be! Why am I able to hear it already? But the moment realization dawned upon me pain seared through my soul and erased everything. Still, I felt compelled to investigate and stood up, leaving my body behind. I didn't seem to care though, as if I had already accepted my fate and was ready to move on. Maybe it was the only chance I had before Modera corrupted my soul and brought me back to life.

“That is correct. Modera is too busy celebrating her victory, which gives you more than enough time to choose if you want to live on as a vampire or if you want to die,” responded a muffled voice to my thoughts, which should have been weird but something inside me knew that I wasn't alone anymore. I turned around and my expectations were met when I saw a black-robed figure bearing a scythe. “I'll never understand why mortals need to be afraid of death even after their demise. Wouldn't you prefer something that calms your soul before you move on?”

“I've never actually thought of that.”

“It's always the same, no matter who I ask,” he sighed, “But you might be the only person who should actually be afraid of me!”

“I don't understand...”

“Of course you don't and maybe you'll never remember, but I don't have to forgive you for your choice! Just don't screw up this time!” his voice was but a mere echo at this point as his form flickered out of existence.

“What about my choice?!”

“I don't care about your choice!”

Alone again and it seems that time had moved on while I wasn't looking. Modera was kneeling in front of my body now, certainly getting ready to transform me into a creature of darkness. Incapable of stopping her I went towards the balcony to bask in the light of the sun one last time. I failed to do so though as the beautiful ball of fire had been replaced by an ominous storm cloud in the distance. It should have been too far away to make out any details but I swear that I saw something resembling a face in its center. At that exact moment something began to pull at my soul.

“Let me end your suffering!” demanded a familiar voice but before I could put my finger on it I was sucked back into my body.

Unimaginable pain began to course through my mind and body!

We were marching through the frozen wastelands of the north after having claimed victory at last! After centuries of war we would finally be at peace.

Modera's blood began to flow through my veins and my body felt like it was on fire as it tried to fight back in vain.

Night had already fallen and our party was about to call it a day when darkness descended upon our camp! I've never felt so much power before.

My whole body convulsed painfully as dozens of arteries exploded and mended themselves at the same time!

The corpses of our most magnificent warriors littered the ground, painting the snow red while he continued to rip them apart! Their dying screams echoed across the clearing and I ended up with blood all over my clothes without being able to save even a single one of them!

Something was eating itself through my brain and I screamed and screamed and screamed while the headache got so horrendous that I thought my skull would explode!

Only the two us were left alive when a sphere of pure energy erased every trace of the massacre! When I awoke I was all alone...

The pain subsided when my heart began to beat again, pumping the tainted blood through my veins.

My eyes have been opened! He will come and save us! Bring salvation and rejuvenation! He will! He must! He has to! Destroy him! You don't have a choice! It is your destiny!

The Savior! The Promised One! He who will vanquish the darkness! All meaningless if you fai—arghhh!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't be afraid of retcons

Sorry Julia, there's no new chapter here :D

Anyway, I remembered a situation from my first game tonight which really didn't make much sense and came out of nowhere. I retconned certain aspects of the world in the third game, not really thinking about how it would affect this specific situation as I had mostly forgotten about it, but strangely enough it makes total sense now.

Don't be afraid of retconning your story

Many people would assume that retcons are inherently bad and that an author should plan his story from start to finish to avoid using them, but it really depends on how the retcon fits into the overall picture. In my example it adds another layer to it without directly contradiction the events of the game. That's not to say that there aren't issues with it but that's to be expected for something that I made up as went along. I'm still surprised how well it all fit together in the end.

So let me use another example: Metal Gear Solid, one of my favorite game franchises.

The antagonist in the first games is Big Boss, leader of Outer Heaven and Zanzibar Land, and he threatens the world with his nuclear equipped Metal Gears. So he's evil, right? Just look at him!

Many years later Hideo Kojima released Metal Gear Solid 3, starring Naked Snake aka Big Boss! That game's ending as well as the subsequent games in the Big Boss Saga shed light on why he "turned evil" without directly contradiction previous events. It doesn't excuse how he tried to accomplish his goals but it still made sense. That's what I'd call a good retcon.

Of course there are also bad retcons of varying degrees. One of the worst ones would be to bring a character back from the dead even though he quite obviously died. You need to come up with a really good explanation to turn this into a good retcon.


Let me use Metal Gear Solid 1 to demonstrate a bad one:

In this game Solid Snake claims that Big Boss told him that he was his father during their final encounter in Zanzibar Land, but I've played Metal Gear 2 and he says no such thing, nor does he ever imply anything like that. It's not too bad of a retcon but still contradicts established events and this wouldn't be the last time Hideo Kojima changed the series' history. I still like it though and look forward to the next game, which might finally show us the moment Big Boss "turns evil".

Don't be afraid to retcon your story, but make sure to add another layer to it instead of directly contradiction prior events. Of course you can have a few bad retcons here and there but be wary not to turn your story into a total mess that makes absolutely no sense!

A Decaying World - Chapter 3: Modera

This version is horribly outdated.

Revision 2 is in progress.

 

Chapter 3: Modera

I've been pacing back and forth atop this hill for hours now, waiting for the moment when Emily would finally arrive. We've been friends for many years now but all of that might change today.

Worst case scenario: We'd never talk to each other again even though she lives right around the corner. That wouldn't be much of a problem if we lived in a big city like Pagan but it's simply impossible not to run into each other when you reside in a village with less than 100 inhabitants. Emily might not hate me for what I'm about to do but what if she's unable to reciprocate my feelings? Would be kinda awkward to spend time with each other when she knows that I want more from her than she wants from me.

Perhaps I'm just worrying too much. I'm certain that she has feelings for me; however, that could be nothing but wishful thinking...sure, she said some very suggestive things recently but perhaps she was just fooling around...

“Goddammit, stop worrying! Just wait for her to arrive and tell her everything!” I screamed at myself, frustrated by the entire situation.

“Tell me what?”

The sweet voice of my childhood friend stopped me dead in my tracks. My heart was throbbing when I thought of the possibility that she might have been concealing her presence the entire time, eavesdropping on all of my trial runs where I tried to confess my feelings to a tree. I should have seen her coming up the path, shouldn't I? It's right next to me so there's no way I could have missed her! Or was I simply too distracted?

“Drake? Is something wrong?”

Emily was standing directly behind me now, her warmth spreading all across my body, even though she wasn't touching me at all. I gulped nervously, clenched my fists so hard that my knuckles turned white and tried to gather all of my courage before I finally turned around to face her.

Her crimson hair was blowing in the wind and a radiant smile played on her lips, as if she knew what I was going to ask and had already made up her mind.

“No fair!” I must have sounded like a little child complaining to his mother.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” but her devious grin belied her words.

I raised my right hand hesitantly and her green eyes followed it's movement curiously. Emily was surely wondering if I was going to stick to the original plan or simply make up something on the spot. My trembling hand hesitated mere inches from her cheek and didn't budge for what felt like an eternity; however, Emily was grinning from ear to ear now and forced me to continue by leaning her head to the side, gently resting her cheek in the palm of my hand.

My mind must have been playing tricks on me because her skin felt strangely...wet? I was about to unburden myself when my voice failed me. Not because I couldn't take the final step...no, something was forcing itself down my throat! I didn't understand what was happening! My hands shot towards my mouth and I managed to get a hold of something slimy, which seemed to have the same consistency as Emily's skin!

“What is going on?!” I uttered, or at least tried to.

Emily just looked at me, still grinning from ear to ear as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

I managed to get rid of whatever was trying to invade my body but even though I felt something moving in the palms of my hands I couldn't actually see anything. When I looked up once more Emily had been replaced by a strange person in gray robes.

“Wake up!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mortaevum Timeline

I might have been able to post another chapter of Mortaevum but I wasted a whole day working on the design of my blogs and yesterday I recovered a partial timeline of my universe that I created when Mortaevum was nothing but an rpg-maker series. Then I thought that I could try to update and translate it...which got somewhat excessive...

The timeline doesn't show every single event in the universe as I tried to keep it mostly spoiler-free, but it's suitable enough. However, no one apart from me or people who've played the games will really understand what some of the events written on it mean. But still, it might be of interest to some readers so here it is.

The timeline got "a bit big" so posting it as a mere picture is kinda pointless. Picasa didn't even want to upload it. 

So here's the timeline

And here's a preview

A Decaying World - Chapter 2: A fateful encounter

This version is horribly outdated.

Revision 2 is in progress.

Chapter 2: A fateful encounter

Drake seemed to fall for an eternity before the dreamworld faded away and released him into the real one. His whole body was drenched in sweat, his heart was pounding as if he'd run a marathon and his head seemed like it was about to explode. He'd never felt this awful before and was incapable of standing up, so he just rolled out of his bed and crashed to the ground.

One might assume that Drake's condition had something to do with his meeting in the dreamworld but at least the headache was solely his fault, as could be extrapolated by all the empty beer bottles littering the ground. Emily might have only turned 16 but celebrations like these were rare in a village like Arlin, offering party-goers the perfect excuse to get drunk, especially because Lester, the owner of the pub, was a bit too generous with the amount of alcohol he offered.

“Drake, are you okay?!” asked a worried voice from the bed. Seems like his fall had woken up Emily, who had stayed behind to help clean up the house in the morning. Of course that's only part of the reason as she could have done so without staying behind, seeing as her house was right around the corner.

“My...head...”, is all that Drake managed to utter before he vomited on the carpet.

“I warned you that this would happen if you drink too much! Wait a moment, I'll get a potion and something to clean up the floor.”

Her footsteps vanished in the distance while Drake crawled towards his desk to get away from the mess he made.

“If you don't manage to reach the tower before sunrise everything will be lost!”

The voice of the Alp resonated throughout his mind but in his current state Drake couldn't tell if he had actually met this mysterious person or if he was just a figment of his imagination. Not that it would have been easier to believe if he hadn't been hung over, so he would have to make sure if his father was actually gone or not. However, even such a simple task seemed impossible at the moment.

Emily returned soon after but Drake was too groggy to notice her, which led to a coughing fit because he didn't realize what was happening when she dribbled a potion down his throat.

“Come on, don't be such a baby!” she reprimanded him, concern for his well-being evident in her voice.

As soon as the coughing subsided she poured the rest of the bitter drink into his mouth and even though his stomach grumbled horribly he managed to prevent himself from puking a second time. His hangover didn't magically vanish from one second to the next but he was already on his feet in a matter of minutes and the world stopped spinning soon after. Of course there are substances that could have cured him instantly but no one in Arlin was proficient enough to brew such high-quality potions and buying them was completely out of the question, especially because the village was located in the middle of nowhere and driving across the bridge to Pagan would have taken hours.

Drake sat on his desk and watched Emily clean up the floor while trying to gather his thoughts. If his father had actually left in the middle of the night he would have to follow him as soon as possible without alerting Emily. She might not be much of a fighter but tended to win most of their arguments and would surely tag along if she suspected that anything was wrong.

Obviously there was still the possibility that nothing out of the ordinary had actually happened, even if his father had left the house. Maybe he was just out for a walk, reminiscing about his wife who had died during Drake's birth. Or maybe he was playing poker with the guards, who tended to fall asleep otherwise as nothing bad ever happened in the village.

However, the mere possibility that his father might be in danger was worrying enough. Drake had never seen magic with his own eyes but he didn't doubt that something like the Alp could actually exist.

“I think I'll get some fresh air. I'm still a bit dizzy.”, he said at last and got ready to leave.

“Seriously? You're going to let me clean up your mess on my birthday while you take a walk all by yourself?! You could at least wait for me!” she actually sounded a bit mad now.

“I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you! But it will only take a few minutes. No point in changing into your street clothes again.”

“I'll just take a coat then!” she said matter-of-factly and he knew that arguing would be pointless, so he just went downstairs, stealthily taking his sword with him as Emily went back to work.

As Drake reached the bottom of the stairs he noticed that something was missing: Opposite the door of the entrance hall was a beautiful display case, which normally contained an impressive piece of armor and a sword with a gorgeous golden hilt, both of which were gone now. Checking the bedroom seemed to be pointless but he did so anyway, only to find it empty. The bed appeared to be freshly made, as if no one had slept within it in since the previous night.

Did you really have to take your armor with you?! That makes it even more likely that this Alp told me the truth...

There was no time to waste but he still had to get rid of Emily. He might be able to leave the village before she was done but unless he managed to climb over the walls one of the guards would surely be able to tell her where he went. The bridge to the Paternity-Forest had collapsed years ago and no one had bothered to repair it so there were only three places where he could possibly go and all of them could be reached by going north, so that's all she would have to do if she wanted to catch up to him.

As Drake closed the bedroom door he lost control over his legs, forcing him to grip onto the door knob as hard possible to prevent himself from crashing to the floor again. He regained his footing seconds later but it was obvious that he still needed some time to recover...and with that thought in mind he smiled.