I really appreciate it.I don't know who logged, but whoever did -- thank you.
Narniac, thanks for volunteering to edit!
Those who shared were Ariel, William, and Edward
Writer's Group opens
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well, I guess we're starting.
Sharing
Ariel.of.Narnia: Will, Ed, you got anything you want to share?
Sir-Edward: Indeed!
Sir-Edward: The continuation of my story, that is.
Sir-William: I have something short, yes
Sir-Edward: (Oh dear....)
Ariel.of.Narnia: Which of you two wants to go first?
Sir-William: Ed will, of course.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Alright. Go for it, Ed.
SIR-EDWARD SHARES ~
Sir-Edward: Right then!
Sir-Edward: We last ended with......
Sir-Edward: There was a sudden pulling movement, and Besk was jerked from her feet to land on the hard stone floor, she grasped desperately for a handhold, but the unrelenting pull of the strange cable adhered to her leg continued to drag her toward the nothingness at the edge of the parapet.
Sir-Edward: Dun DUN DUN! O.O
Sir-Edward: Anyway...uuuhhhh.... let me see...continuing from that..
Sir-Edward: Rolling over so that she slid on her back, she pivoted her feet and pushed of the left parapet stone just in time, so that instead of being dragged off the Battlements into empty space, she hung by her foot upside down with the sticky webbing slung over the battlement stone like a pulley. Using her arms to pivot herself around, she caught a glimpse of dark figures down below. just then, another volley of webbing shot over her head and stuck fast on the hard stone Battlements above. her mind raced to find a way to warn the troops still battling back at the gate. An idea formed in her mind and she strained to lift herself upwards against gravity to reach her left boot. Tugging it off, she pulled out her small boot-knife, and carved a simple message into the hard leather, HELP. then with all her might she flung the boot as far as she could over the eastern battlement, towards to sound of battle.
Yerik, who up to that point had been content to wait for the enemy to come charging through the castle gate, was beginning to think he might be better off joining Besk on the walls with the rest of the archers as there was no sign of the gate breaking yet. he had almost made up his mind, and chanced a glance over at the eastern wall steps towards the Armory, when he caught a glimpse of a strange projectile flying from the direction of the Armory he had just been thinking of. The oddly-shaped object flew high, then banked down and bounced off the Battlement stairs. It wobbled in the air, then glanced off the side of the inner wall where It came arching down and land just a few feet away from Yerik. Quickly running over to it, he noticed that it was a boot! Grabbing it, he examined it until he found the crude inscription, HELP. there was now no doubt in his mind that he should join Besk at the eastern wall. Calling for Liten and Stål to follow him, he dashed headlong for the eastern Battlements.
Meanwhile back at the Eastern Parapet, Besk was watching the Berserkera with interest as their plan finally began to take shape. the spiders, under the command of their Berserkera Riders, started weaving back and forth along the strands of webbing that stretched between the ground and the castle wall, effectively building a thin bridge to span the distance between the two points. Besk gasped and tried once again to haul herself up the web stuck to her leg, but she couldn't quite reach it, "And even if I did," she realized, "My hands would most likely just get stuck to it." She let herself hang loosely by the sticky thread and shut her eyes tightly, her vision was beginning to blur and it felt like her head was about to explode. She was suddenly aware that her name was being called, at once she opened her eyes and shouted up at the parapet, "Help! I'm down here!"
A face poked over the side of the battlements above her and she sighed with relief. Yerik smiled and held out his hand for Besk to grab a hold of. But just as Besk reached up to grab the offered hand, two things happened, an eerie war-cry cut through the air and a Berserkera worrier riding on a Spider came scrabbling over the battlements to attack Yerik. the second thing that happened was Stål's huge war hammer slamming down on the War Spider's head. the hideous creature's body squirmed and writhed, throwing It's rider off, the Berserkera landed hard on the ground but quickly recovering, he unhitched a huge double-bladed battle axe from his back and started to charge. Before he took two steps however, a red-feathered dart hissed through the air and buried Itself in the warrior's chest. the Berserkera took one more step, stumbled and fell to the ground, unmoving. Yerik Looked over the battlements to see nine more Spiders climbing up the webs towards them. Liten had only enough time to shoot one rider from his mount before the Spiders were on them. "Run!" Yerik Yelled, He bolted for the Western wall with Liten and Stål on his heels,
The spiders, however, were terribly quick, and they hadn't made it six feet when the spiders immobilized Liten and Stål in their sticky webbing. Yerik turned back and was about to charge the spiders single-handedly to rescue his two friends, when he heard a booming voice ring out behind him. "Duck, lad!" Without a second thought, Yerik threw himself to the ground, and a moment later ten arrows shot over his head and buried themselves in the Spiders just beyond. Then, jumping to his feet, he joined in the charge as forty armed men came barreling passed him to face the enemy. Berserkera fell left and right and it seemed as though they were winning, however, what Yerik saw a moment later gave him a horrible sinking feeling that what he was experiencing was just the beginning of the battle.
Down below them, the spiders had finished their work. weaving back and forth with their spinnerets, the spiders had created a floor between the strands of web that led up to the castle wall, creating a bridge on which An army could walk right up to the eastern Battlements. and so they did, already a small hoard of Berserkera was marching up the long, hammock-like bridge that spanned the gap up to the wall. General Lade called for a spear wall to be erected along the entire length of the Parapet where the bridge met the wall. A thought accrued to Yerik just then, and he quickly rushed over to where Besk hung by the web strand from the wall. "Besk!" He waved and shouted down at her but she made no move to reply and seemed to have lost consciousness. Thinking fast, he started to tug on the length of web that was adhered to her leg, slowly pulling her up the Parapet wall to safety.
Sir-Edward: A moment later, Stål joined him in hauling on the sticky rope, and the process went a lot quicker after that. Yerik strained with all his might and finally Besk appeared over the side of the Parapet wall and slumped to the ground. Yerik sighed with relief and fell back on the cold stones behind him. suddenly a great noise erupted and he jumped to his feet to see that the Berserkera army had charged up the length of the bridge and had just met with the Spear wall, The sounds of battle were ear-splitting and Yerik strove to block it out as he staggered forward to were Stål, Liten, and a quickly reviving Besk waited for him to join them.
Sir-Edward: That's it for now.
Ariel.of.Narnia: You always stop in the most inconvenient places.
Sir-Edward: Muhahahahhahaehaehaeh!!
Sir-Edward: I know.
Sir-Edward: Who's next?
Ariel.of.Narnia: I applaud your description of Besk's twisting and turning and all. I got the idea much better than I would have described it.
Sir-William: Okay, this story is a little strange, but at least it's not a comedy this time.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Ooh, Will's branching out!
Sir-Edward: smiley-razz
SIR-WILLIAM SHARES ~
Sir-William: A stranger stepped foot in a city for the first time, and stopped at its entrance to stare about him. It was truly magnificent, but he had not expected it to have a Japanese theme to it. All the buildings had roofs that curved up at the corners and red was a common color to see among the buildings. There were flowers everywhere and the bright streets where lined with circular lanterns hanging from long lines of cable that ran from building to building. Everyone was wearing bright clothing that was very Asian and even several Samurai walked the streets. He could not stand there forever, though, and he soon turned down a nearby street. It wasn't long until he had found a room for himself, and began to settle in. A cupboard full of china dishes lined the wall and a porcelain vase sat atop a wooden stool nearby, whose cloth top was a bright scarlet color embroidered with flowers. Taking a seat in a nearby chair, the man pondered on what he had seen. No, this couldn't be right, could it? He had been told by a friend that had visited this city for one day that it was truly beautiful and glamorous, but he had described it quite differently.
He had described it as a place with huge buildings made out of red sandstone slabs jutting into the sky and with fountains lining the streets that got their water from underground passageways coming down from the nearby mountains. He remembered his friend saying that the air was hot and that the people wore light, airy clothing that was white in color to keep them cool during the hot days. Shaking his head, the man decided that he may as well move on while there was still plenty of daylight left, so he took up his things and left the city.
The man was rather confused as to his direction of travel, and indeed he thought for a time that he might have even returned to the same city again, but as he entered it, he found this not to be the case. This city looked entirely different than the last. It had huge buildings made of shiny metal soaring up into the sky with many glass windows on their sides that reflected light off of them along with the metal. However, the metal must have been treated somehow, for it didn't glare sunlight into his eyes when he looked at it. There were speeders zooming about at different levels, and turbo lifts with clear, glass doors could be seen taking people up to the tops of buildings at incredible rates. And above it all, space ships could be seen taking off and landing on platforms that hung suspended in the sky or were attached to adjacent buildings. The man watched with wonder as one of the sleek ships disappeared into the atmosphere. It was impossible to take it all in too soon, but he preferred to do it from a different vantage point. However, he was also pondering if he should not, in fact, just leave then and there, for this was still not the city he had been searching for. In the end he decided to ask a passing stranger if he knew of the way to a sandstone city somewhere in this province. The stranger laughed and replied, "Why my good man! This is the city!" The man was puzzled. "But how can that be?" he questioned in bewilderment.
Sir-Edward: I don't think we'll ever know why...
Sir-William: "This city changes it's appearance every day to look like a different city, you see," the stranger answered. The man found this hard to believe. "That sounds a little far fetched," he voiced doubtfully. The stranger waved around him. "This is what the city normally looks like," he said. "But on the other six days of the week it looks like a different city. Stay here a day and you will see." The man did so and was astonished when he found that the stranger was right. In fact, the very next morning he awoke to find that the city was entirely transformed into grey, stone slabbed, buildings that rose several stories up. There were many pyramid shaped structures with large staircases going up the sides of them with long, green vines lining their sides. In fact, the city of stone almost looked like it had been heavily overgrown with vines and many other jungle plants, but if one were to look closely it would become apparent that almost all of the plants had been place there and allowed to grow for decorative purposes. And decorate they did! Many of the vines going up the dark, grey buildings bore flowers upon their stems, and others grew along fancy shaped, stone artwork that lined the streets of the city. It was truly an amazing place, and with a sigh of contentment, the man finally decided that he was going to stay there.
Sir-William: The End
Ariel.of.Narnia: Nice! I feel like there could be a deeper meaning to all this somehow, though I don't know what
elanorelle: Interesting, indeed! I'd like to visit a city like that.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Also, I snerked at the passerby's description of the city since I understood it to be something like, "this is what it normally looks like... on Mondays"
Sir-William: Haha, that's a good point.
Ariel.of.Narnia: I had no idea if you meant that intentionally or not, but again, this feels like it could have a meaning underneath, thus making a comment like that logical
Sir-William: Ed pointed that out to me after I wrote the story
Sir-William: I meant that to mean its "default" look.
Sir-William: But since it's different everyday, then yes, no look would be "normal"
Ariel.of.Narnia: Unless it defaulted at night no matter what, but anyway.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Or if it's the only one to reappear every week while there are more than six others for the rest of the week to choose from...
Ariel.of.Narnia: Any other comments?
Sir-Edward: Going...going...
Sir-William: It sounds like you know more about this city that I do
Sir-Edward: lol
Ariel.of.Narnia: @Will: Nah, I'm just a curious reader who's speculating
elanorelle: I have to get going now. Dinner time for me. *hugs all*
Ariel.of.Narnia: *waves* Bye, Elanor!
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well, I guess I go now...
Sir-William: *waves*
elanorelle: Bye! *waves as she wanders out*
Sir-Edward: *waves*
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well, I hear no protests, so...
Ariel.of.Narnia: smiley-razz
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well, I hear no protests, so...
ARIEL.OF.NARNIA SHARES ~
Ariel.of.Narnia: This is a fic that took me two weeks to finish and I'm still not sure I'm satisfied
Ariel.of.Narnia: So be sure to let me know if you feel that it moves too slowly or sounds dry or whatever
Ariel.of.Narnia: In the near-silence of solitary confinement, Jewel tugged at the short rope that bound him by the bridle to a ring on the sad shack of a stable. He tried to shift his weight, but his four legs had been hobbled a little too tightly to be comfortable in any semblance of position. For at least half of the day, judging by the sojourn of the sun, the Unicorn had borne the agony of separation from his dearest friend, the ache of being just out of the reach of any sympathizers, and the aggravation of remaining within the sound of those who disheartened his people with lies.
Quiet descended on the woods before the sun had quite begun to sink in the west. No birds sang, no neighborly “good evenings” were uttered. Even the voices of falsehood were gone. Jewel was quite alone.
How differently the day had begun, brimming with hope and joy! News of Aslan’s return to Narnia could not have been surpassed by news of any other kind… though it could be – and had been – cruelly trampled and dashed, for the Centaur Roonwit had warned of ill tidings and several had whispered that the Great Lion had returned in a rage. Jewel wished – and not for the first time – that he was dead and happily so. He wondered at Tirian’s whereabouts, hardly daring to hope. After all, Aslan wasn’t a tame Lion.
The shadows lengthened, creeping at a pace so maddening, a snail would have seemed speedy. The day’s warmth faded little by little, but almost as soon as the sun had hidden himself behind the western mountains, the coolness of night rushed in as if it was an army springing forth from an ambush. Jewel shivered. Cold. Perhaps all he’d ever believed was wrong. Or perhaps something had changed, something to have generated such ire against Narnia. None of the stories Jewel could summon to memory told of a wrathful Aslan. And such a wrath! He’d not heard quite all that the Ape and the Calormenes had said, but he had heard enough to piece some of their tale together: the Lion’s regret for having been so merciful in the past, His chosen punishment of sending them as slaves to Calormen, and – darkness. The night was black, oh so black. Jewel looked up in search of the moon, but she was veiled by clouds so dark, it was no stretch to imagine her as a widow in mourning. He shifted what little he could in his bonds.
Could the night be any darker? Oh, that death had claimed him the night before this despair could grip his heart.
Jewel lowered his head as far as his tether allowed and let it support the weight of his weary head. He was not long like this – though it certainly felt long to him – until something made him prick up his ears: feet quietly climbing up the hill on the other side of the stable, voices murmuring to each other, wood clattering against wood. He strained to hear what was being spoken, but instead picked up the sounds of steel on flint, of more wood being applied, and, presently, of timber crackling. The firelight’s glow penetrated the darkness beyond the stable, but it held no warmth for him. Miserably, Jewel wondered if the blaze fed off a Talking Tree or a dryad’s tree. He shivered again, this time in memory of the dryad who had suddenly perished before his eyes just that morning.
Could it be that Aslan would not say why He was angry with them? He heard the voice of the Ape calling out to what Jewel assumed was an assembly like the one he’d seen before his confinement to the hind side of the stable. The Calormene captain also spoke, but only in answer to the Ape. Could it be that Aslan had betrayed them all?
The assembly was quiet, but Jewel sensed that it was not the quiet of attentiveness, but that of anticipation, a deep-seated, dread, an expectation of the worst. For a moment, there was no sound besides the menacing snap of the bonfire, but then he heard the stable door suddenly open. Then slow, grave footfalls as something emerged from within. Jewel wished he knew what it was, but the answer soon was given, for the assembly cried out in a collective wail, “Aslan! Aslan! Aslan! Speak to us. Comfort us. Be angry with us no more. Aslan!” Jewel’s heart gave a great leap. Aslan here to address his people? Aslan here to speak for Himself? Aslan here for all to see? And Jewel unable to see Him with his own eyes! He strained against his halter as if he could free himself by sheer will. Could it be that this was his punishment? But something else was happening. The din subsided almost, but not quite, completely. Jewel strained to hear Aslan speak, hardly realizing that he tensed his neck and clenched his jaws dreadfully. For a moment, there was nothing but the distant roar of the fire and the remaining rippling whispers of anxiety. Then the assembly cried out again, more desperate, more passionate, more grieved. Could it be that Aslan had abandoned them?
The bonfire was put out, plunging Jewel into utter darkness again, alone with the crying in the wind that was not there, with the echoes of despair in the dead-still woods. Alone with his own anguished thoughts.
Could it be that Narnia was dead? Jewel leaned the tip of his horn against the wall of the stable. His tether fell limp, wearied from having been stretched so taut. And yet Jewel felt no empathy for it. His spirits could not possibly be sunk any lower. If he had been able to, he would have physically followed them. Straight down to Bism, if need be.
Aslan, why?
He was just on the other side of the wall before him. Why shouldn’t he try to talk to the Lion? Ask Him why these terrible things had come to pass. Why He would not speak to them Himself. Why He brought them low like this.
How, Aslan?
How they erred to so incur such a terrible retribution. How they could return to His favour. How they could come back to life. Jewel sighed. A great, heaving sigh that emptied him of breath, though it seemed also to empty him of life – oh, that he’d died before this! Who was he to question Aslan? He was not a tame Lion. But if that was the case…. Thoughts flooded his mind and mingled and wove themselves together so he could hardly tell them apart.
"Who are you, Aslan?"
There it was. The question that summed up the rest. The one he wanted answered most of all. Everything Jewel had ever known about Aslan – beautiful, terrible, merciful, just, patient, the King over all high kings – collided with the developments of the day – demanding, distant, unforgiving, relentless, one with Tash –
Jewel sighed again. He did not want to believe it. He could not. The Ape and the Calormenes spoke only lies…. Unless they were actually in the right. What if they were? What if Narnia had been so blind to it that it took all this to waken them? What if Aslan… was not Aslan?
He lifted his head, keeping his eyes closed, as if to accept surrender to the blade of an executioner. As he did so, however, he noticed something. He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to the sky. There, free from her black veils of grief, hung the moon. She was no less cold, but she cast her light down upon the Unicorn. And all around her shone the stars, many so small and distant that Jewel could only see them if he focused his gaze upon them for a while, but once he did, they seemed nearer and brighter. He stamped one of his hind hooves as well as he could. He could not – would not – believe the Ape. Aslan was Aslan and He did not change. No, He would come as He always had. How did that ancient prophesy go? “Wrong will be right when Aslan comes in sight”? Surely it was still true. Dawn crept into the sky, bringing with it a growing hope. The dew weighed heavy on his coat, but it could not dampen his spirits. A slight breath of wind blew a faint trace of a whisper to his ears. Facing the east, Jewel summoned up a great breath and called out in a loud voice, “Aslan! Aslan! Aslan! Come and save us now!” The clouds blushed and the first rays of dawn repelled the night. Jewel had reason to live again.
Ariel.of.Narnia: The end
Sir-Edward: *APPLAUDS!!*
Sir-Edward: THAT WAS AWESOME!
Sir-William: *CLAPS*
Sir-Edward: *APPLAUDS!!*
Sir-Edward: THAT WAS AWESOME!
Sir-William: *CLAPS*
Sir-William: By the way, isn't Bism that place mentioned in The Silver Chari?
Ariel.of.Narnia: @Ed: You really think so? @Will: yes, it is.
Sir-Edward: Indeed!
Sir-Edward: (The Silver Chari?)
Ariel.of.Narnia: (Heehee)
Ariel.of.Narnia: Then, please, enlighten me. What about it is so good?
Sir-William: I just thought that it mirrored certain real life struggles so well, except that it was neat to have it happen in the mind of a unicorn that we all love, and to have it happen in Narnia (which we all love too
)Sir-William: And you fit it in with the book nicely as well
Ariel.of.Narnia: Oh, hurrah! I was hoping for that.
Ariel.of.Narnia: Well, then, if that's it, I guess we're done for the night.
Ariel.of.Narnia: *bangs gavel* Writers' dismissed.
Writer's Group dismissed.
