I am writing this on L-O while taking a break from writing Frost Bite on UE. Hell, might just combine the two. Then I'd have to think about where to post the continuing story though.... Dilemmas dilemmas. ------- I would like to preface this with: Oh God what have I done. ------ Tenquax's senses returned slowly. It began with feeling. He felt pain as he was dragged face down along a rough and jagged tunnel floor. He felt a coarse rope tied around his ankles, felt it tug as he was jerked forward. His vision returned, blurry and indistinct. He could make out the details of said tunnel floor, and as the walls slowly came into focus, he groaned. His hearing returned, and the dragging stopped. His still deafened ears only made out part of what his captors were saying. "Scale-thing... Kill-slay..." "No-no!... Fool-meat... Modin.... Alive..." Tenquax's eyes widened as he recognized the quick, chittery language. As his hearing cleared, he heard the scratching of claws as his captors came closer. Turning his head, Tenquax held back a shriek as he came face to face with a pair of Skaven. The vicious rat-men looked at him, cruel amusement burning in their beady red eyes. Both of them were hissing in laughter as the one nearest him approached, lowering itself to eye level with Tenquax. "Night-night Scale-thing. Wake-rise when we reach Modin at BakBiter lair!" Standing, the Skaven drew his foot back, and kicked Tenquax back into unconsciousness. ----- Tenquax woke the second time to a sharp pain in his neck. His eyes snapped open, and he struggled to sit up. It was at this point that he noticed a few new things. 1- He was restrained to a large, wheeled table 2- He seemed to be in some sort of madman's lab, vials and vats lined the walls and the center was covered in surgical tables and work benches. 3- The two Skaven from earlier were walking out of the main door, counting warp stone tokens and eyeing each other up to see if the other half could be taken. 4- The pain in his neck was a large syringe, and a third Skaven was pushing a strange green liquid from it into his body. Tenquax struggled to move again, but as the rat-man injecting him finished, Tenquax realized he had gone completely numb. The Skaven giggled childishly. "Don't worry scale-thing, chemical not poisonous. Well, maybe. It stops movement. Wouldn't want you twitching during surgery, would we?" The Skaven infornt of him was a mass of scorch marks and singed fur. His eyes gleamed crazily from behind a large pair of goggles. Linked to the goggles were a series of lenses, no doubt to magnify the rat-man's vision. The Skaven wore heavy leather gloves, and a stained white apron. The apron was covered in soot and filth, and a large stain Tenquax really hoped was just oil to one of the godless machines. The Skaven doctor, or at least Tenquax assumed it was some kind of doctor, moved to the foot of Tenquax's table, and after a series of clunking noises, began to roll it. From between his feet, the Skaven grinned madly. "Poison not stop speaking. Please, ask questions. Talk. I like to know my... patients." Tenquax was horrified, yet still his mind brimmed with so many questions. "who..?" He rasped out, fighting the minor numbness in his tongue. The Skaven cackled again. "How rude of me! Forgetting my manners I think. I am Modin, chief... well, chief something. I make many experiments." As Tenquax was wheeled to god knows where, he had a chance to observe the room he was in. It was an extremely large room, with a vaulting ceiling. The architecture was too well done to be Skaven. No, it was probably Dwarven, taken by the Skaven. The room was filled to the brim with the stuff of nightmares. Surgical tables littered the room, most covered in blood, some with specimens still strapped on. As they passed one, the occupant cried out for death. Modin kicked the table over with a hiss of laughter. Fish tanks and vats surrounded them, many with ungodly creatures either growing or living within. Hung from hooks on the ceiling was a large Rat Ogre corpse. Countless cables were wired to the beast's chest and brain, no doubt spawning from some electrical battery. Modin broke Tenquax's sight seeing. "Now, I have had a conversation with another of the Scale-things." Tenquax shuddered at the thought. "His name was Saurus, I think he speak-said. Saurus was a fool-meat, but his body was an incredible specimen. He made up for his muddle-clogged brain with an exceptionally strong body, covered with thick scales. Turned aside almost all my scalpels." Tenquax's horror grew. Scalpels? "Saurus also speak-said many things about you Scale-things. He was under certain... chemicals that loosen the tongue." Modin winked at Tenquax as if they were having a normal conversation, and Tenquax wasn't being wheeled to his doom. "He spoke-told about Skinks. He said Skinks were smart. Thinkers. Able to use better weapons, ride beasts, so on." "Of course, I had to kill-slay Saurus eventually. His simple-stupid brain just wouldn't work- Ah, were here." Tenquax's gurney was spun around to face another, so far unused surgical table. "I got one just for you!" Modin whispered in his ear excitedly. He acted like it was some great present. Next to that table, was the body of a Saurus Warrior in it's prime. Even in death the body looked strong. "As I was speak-saying, eventually Saurus had to die. His mind just wasn't acceptable." Modin rolled Tenquax off of the gurney and on to the table, where he set about re-restraining him. "His BODY, however..." Modin cackled madly. Modin dragged the table holding the body over to rest next to Tenquax. This done, he turned to a wall of surgical tools, selecting a powerful, warp-stone powered bone saw. "His body will serve us both quite well." The bone saw revved to life, and Tenquax screamed. ------ End of Chapter One! MORE TO COME!
Grim. Disturbing. Bleak. I love it. Both of your stories I've read so far (the other being the Morning Hunt) have been quite different, and seem to have their individual style. I'm interested in what else you might bring to the forum. Your frequent posting of stories is making me look bad though, damn it.
Haha. Im not trying to make you look bad, it's just that it's fourth quarter and Ive lost all hope for my Biology and World History classes, so instead of doing work I am religiously devoting myself to these forums. I've got a little bit of free time. Also, my main work is being done over on the Under Empire forums (A place Scalenex and Spawning of Bob have decided to start visiting.) Its titled Forst Bite, should be at the top of the Skaven Fluff sub forum. The mode changed because in one, Im writing for Lizard Men, something Ive never done before, and the other I return to the dark and horrifying world of Skaven, which has become my second home.
Chapta Two ITS... ALIVE.... AHAHA ITS ALIVE!!! ------------ Modin had been hovering over Tenquax for almost a day, waiting for the altered Lizard Man to regain consciousness. Modin had expected the Scale-thing's system to be unprepared for the sudden... modifications... but a day? His Wolf-Rat hybrids recuperated faster. Perhaps the different Scale-things were separate races entirely, and there fore the body was rejecting the changes? Notes would have to be made. And testing, always the testing. Modin was fishing his claws around for an unmarked scrap of paper and charcoal stick when Tenquax spasmed into waking. The adapted body of the once-Skink nearly pulled the restraints from the table as Tenquax jerked and roared against the restraints. Modin howled in excitement as he back peddled, his eyes alight with insane glee. "Its alive! Horned-One is alive!" Modin screamed triumphantly, pumping his fists into the air. Tenquax calmed as he began to assess the situation. Looking down, something was definitely wrong. His body no longer looked like a Skink. Instead of his respondent, smooth blue skin Tenquax stared down at a mottled, dark blue, thick and scaled body. His hands and feet had gone from long and slender to thick and powerful. Each movement sent ripples down thickly muscled limbs. He snapped his jaw shut with unexpected force, his snout longer and stronger then before. Tenquax instinctively attempted to move his tail, only to find that it, too, had been restrained. Modin was dancing a jig of ecstasy around the operating table, singing the same two words over and over again in his high pitched voice. "It worked! It Worked! It Worked!!" He stopped, rushing over to Tenquax's side. "You can feel, yes-yes? Move your parts? Bringing Saurus's body back to mould-join with yours was difficult, but not impossible! Almost like mould-making a Rat Ogre!" Modin resumed his dance, crying out in joy. "Itichik speak-say of the surgery going wrong! Haha!" Tenquax, however, was not listening. His mind had frozen at the last sentence out of the ecstatic Skaven's mouth. "To mould-join with yours." Tenquax looked down in renewed horror, recognizing the tell-tale signs of a Saurus body. Tenquax's head snapped around, and began to vomit. There, in a corner, shoved there like a broken machine, was his body. Gore covered the front of Tenquax's body, and the top of his head had been completely removed. His entire body had been cut open like that of a hunting kill. His brain, his internal organs, all of them missing. Well, not missing. It was horribly clear to Tenquax where the organs were residing now. ------
Nice body horror, you should check out Discommute's pieces. You share a passion for personal horror. Great story. One tiny kept nagging at the back of my mind though: Language. In my humble opinion, you could use an explanation of a spell or magic item that explains how the Skaven can understand and speak Saurian or how the Skink can understand and speak Queekish. If you want to leave it unexplained for now, you can utilize one of the greatest literary techniques ever developed: Lampshade Hanging. I would do that by having the Skink victim think why is he is repeating so many words?...wait why can I understand him?
My simple reptilian brain is buzzing. Between Esurc and you and the story comp - I have never been confronted with so many cool ideas in such a short space of time. Beware - you have left a very cool and unorthodox character just dangling - my imagination will decide what he should do next and what he could become. I can see it now - brain of a skink, body of a saurus - he will attempt to flee off the table in turn 2, only to be run down by a unit of wolf riders. No wait! - he will try to cross a mysterious river, sink like a stone and drown. Meanwhile Scalenex is thinking "and then he died." I am hoping you can do better.
Shows what you know! When characters are experiencing a fate worse than death, that's when they get to live. I prefer to deny death whenever it would be seen as a mercy. It's not about killing characters, it's about making them suffer as much as possible. Though to be fair I am looking forward to the opportunity to write a piece with death as a mercy. I do like bittersweet endings. I'm sure whatever revenss does with this will be good.
3 What Lurks Below -------- Tenquax continued to vomit, and Modin continued to dance about like a child on christmas. How had the mad Skaven even accomplished such a horrible feat? How had Tenquax not died? Deciding that, in the present circumstances, nothing was likely to get worse, Tenquax reached out for his basic knowledge of Queekish (the product of time, boredom, and curiosity). "How... how did this work?" Modin turned his attention back to Tenquax, his eyes gleaming happily. "Good-good! You know some Queekish. Make conversation easier, yes-yes! He returned to his dance, and Tenquax repeated the question. "How did this work? How am I alive?" Modin did not cease the dancing this time, answering as he bounced around the table. "Bone saw, God-Stone (Warp-Stone to those of you who didn't know), electricity, and excessive amounts of Black Magic. Poor Itichik was nearly kill-slain by his efforts." Tenquax nearly vommited again. He was the product of Black Magic? Modin stopped dancing very suddenly, his manner becoming serious. "You were mould-made for one purpose, Scale-Thing. You are to kill-slay Garrekek's prized Rat Ogre in the fighting pits. You will fight, and you will kill-slay it, or you will die." Modin turned to a workbench that hadn't been there before Tenquax's most recent black out. Upon it was a large pair of metal gauntlets. Each gauntlet was worked to a perfect fit of Tenquax's forearms and hands, the front left open so that Tenquax could still make use of his natural claws. Extending from the gauntlets perhaps a foot were two wickedly serrated blades. The idea of the gauntlets was obvious; they were a vicious slashing and stabbing weapon. Modin grabbed the gauntlets, binging them over to Tenqax. Modin rested the gauntlets down between Tenquax's leg and prepared another syringe of the numbing chemical. A short prick later, Tenquax was immobilized again. Picking the gauntlets up, Modin un-shackled Tenquax's hands. Modin strapped the gauntlets in place, and re-shackled the arms. Modin giggled, picking up another item from the work bench. "I am sorry this will be painful. Oh wait... Im not." Tenquax gasped as he saw what Modin carried towards him. It resembled an elongated bear trap, and it seems to fit Tenquax' jaw line perfectly. Modin placed the metal jaw over Tenquax's real one, and grabbed a drilling device from the work bench. The tool revved to life, and Modin screwed the bear-trap like jaw to Tenquax. Tenquax howled as each screw was driven in, and Modin cackled in delight. As he finished, he drew away to gaze at his work. "Scale-thing should be grateful for metal-jaw. Will take more damage than real one. Will not fall off. Extra teeth." Tenquax could not awnser as he had passed out again. Modin giggled, and returned to the work bench. He wasn't done augmenting Tenquax quite yet. -------- For those of you wondering why Modin didn't do all of this in Tenquax's sleep: 1) Horror affect. Imagine having a bear trap tooled into your body to serve as a second set of teeth. 2) Doing all of this would have been a waste should Tenquax had not survived the surgery.
Well, I don't normally take time to write long responses, but I'm in the hospital with my newborn son and wife who are fast asleep while I can't. So here is what I've got: I like the concept you have going here and think the idea is an entertaining one. Your writing has a very nice flow to it. Some stories I read on here I have to stop half way and figure out what is going on or lose my interest before I finish. You do not have this issue. You seem to have a solid foundation in writing. Dialogue is decent. Grammar is also solid aside from a few bits here and there that I think you would pick up on after a read through or two. I am curious as to where the story will go, which is what I think every writer wants to hear from his/her audience. Only a few things take me away from the story and make me go, "wait a sec, that doesn't quite fit..." The foremost is character knowledge. There have been several places in this story where I don't understand how this skink has knowledge about certain subjects: language (biggest thing, you address it in your most recent post, but it might be better to just add that line in early in the story to avoid the confusion all together), Dwarven architecture (I'm not aware of any in Lustria, if that is where this takes place or that there is a great deal of interaction between those two races), electricity, etc... It makes me wonder, is this skink just extraordinarily well traveled? Was he a slann attendant and somehow privy to some of this info? How does he have all of this knowledge? Keep in mind where the character is from, what he knows, and what he would use for reference. There was also a reference to Christmas. If the story is being told from the character's perspective, this holds absolutely no meaning for him. There is no Christ in this world and no holiday celebrating His birth. That being said, I am also curious about how the skink was caught. Maybe you will address this later in the story? Could also give us a setting for where this all takes place. It is very difficult to write from the perspective of a race that is not human and so, since we are human, we can't help but do this in our writing. The trick is to find a balance. Right now, I feel that this character is skink in name only... or saurus... or skaurus now I suppose... Great job. Keep writing!
Thankyou very much for the criticism. All of this will be kept in mind in later posts. However, as this is only being written in between breaks form Frost Bite, Im not too keen on going back through it with a fine tooth comb and addressing the problems. Sorry. This is just a fun little side project. Like painting miniatures from an army you don't even play. Which is almost exactly what Im doing here. Skaven is my comfort zone. Ive admitted several times I know absolutely jack sh*t about Lizard Men, aside form a box of Saurus Warriors being the first mini's I picked up in Warhammer Fantasy.
Just glad I can offer something. I've had a hard time in the past finding people that could give me constructive criticism, especially when I was your age and early college. I've found that lots of people like to blow smoke and make you feel great, but don't offer much help or advice. I hope something I put in there is useful to you. Totally understand the priorities. Last month was my first attempt at any Warhammer fluff, but I've switched back to more important work now. Good luck with your school!
Very good! I try to avoid nit-picking, from anyone's writing, other than really bad typos or something, mainly because my writings not perfect!
Sure! This last year I've been trying to get some writing published. So far I've received my first rejection letter and another submission that is pending. Lustria fluff is fun and all, but Black Library isn't taking any Warhammer Fantasy work right now, (It's all about 40k) so I set my focus on other topics. Maybe when 9th comes out there will be a bigger demand for it and I might pursue that when it comes up. For now, I'm just about done with another short story (Not Warhammer related at all) that I'm going to send into the Baen Fantasy Competition that is closed to submissions at the end of this month. After that, I've got a couple other pieces I'm putting together that might go to Orbit, as they do year round publishing, but because they do this, they take a long time to get to your work and get back to you. Before all this, I was working on book ideas. Probably have 150+ pages on my most recent, (not to mention a dozen other other failed attempts) but I came to the conclusion that I just wasn't ready to take on such a large task. To do any of my book ideas justice, I need to get better. I did a little research and talked with a few people that had achieved a small amount of success, and got some good advice. Basically I'm trying to hone my craft and get my foot in the door somewhere. This forum has been helpful for that, but I've got lots of other story ideas that require my full attention. I could put my focus on just writing fluff pieces, but it doesn't really further my goal/dream of eventually becoming a full time writer. I mean, I enjoy my current job, however I'd leave it in a heartbeat if I had a real shot at doing what I love.
That all sound very awesome. that's a lot of irons in the fire too, (and I thought I might have been the only one with such a cluttered mind) so good luck with getting traction with something. But... ....I was actually trying to draw out a jokey kind of answer just so I had someone else to flame. I'll go back to tormenting moderators.
Sorry for the inactivity, but shits been going down between in mah life. My gaming club has closed, and a new one has opened (thankfully the guys from the old one are showing up there) Ive started expanding my Tau, And I've collected EXACTLY 1500 points of chaos, which are halfway painted. Ive also gotten into Drop Zone Commander, so thats that. Story will be written soon!