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First chapter of my story

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need

Hi Lordofthebunnies,

This is a quick of the bat critique. The writing seems very cerebral. It all reminds me of those japanese cartoons. I don't like the line I think it was the "sun looked very beautiful" some of the writing looks very straightfroward almost too straight forward and wooden, really liked the dragonfly over pond image.I'm interested in what the rest of the story would be like. I think there is too much involvement in the main character  but the descriptions of behaviours are easy to visualize.

Too many paragraphs.. think of writing that flows.You can pay some attention to things like grammar , wording..don't make things so straight forward.Some of the lines seem to cliche or too ordinary to really matter. Do you go to a workshop for writing it could give you ideas on your writing.too many lines go out into full blown descriptions when they might not be need  to be so  wordy.To me the plot seems a bit too cardboard.

Definitely this could be polished up.

Reading it reminds me more of a  drama play than a chapter from a book.I think finish the book then put it away for a few days at a time and then  review it and see how you feel about it.

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The passage was lit with oil lamps. They cast a yellowish haze that illuminated the tapestries decorating the walls. As he walked by, Ikeda stopped and glanced at one tapestry that always caught his eye whenever he went through this part of the shrine. It depicted the gods Hemonos, Alma and Youros. They were on top of a mountain, sending down a divine light towards the people below them. The light settled on what looked like elegant men and women, priests and rulers.
##########################

The line above could be written instead "The passage lit with oil lamps cast a yellowish haze illuminating tapestries ... Does it have to be haze is there another word w2hich could work better .

Anyway I'm not the best critic in the world but I can see that this work can be worked on and you can develop your art as a writer with some promising results.

Wishing all the best

LordoftheBunnies

Hey, thanks a bunch for reading through this.  I'm not sure what you mean by the writing seeming straightforward though, could you elaborate a bit more?  Do you mean that its needs to be more descriptive? Also, what do you mean by cerebral?

Thing about this book is, I have finished it and revised it nearly eight times. [:(]  I'm reaching a hard turning point where I want to get the book out, have gotten tired of working on it yet want to make it better, but cant figure out how to do it.  Ah well, I'll get it eventually.

mactombs

Revised eight times, eh? :) I've been there (and beyond). Actually, I don't recommend it at all. There is such a thing as over-editing.

Anyway, I'm going to read through this and give you my thoughts on it (probably in quite some detail - but don't worry, it will be very light on criticism).
A certain degree of neurosis is of inestimable value as a drive, especially to a psychologist - Sigmund Freud

Blackstream

I liked it.  I can't really offer much in the way of critisism either.  It could probably stand for a bit more atmosphere, but the amount that was there was enough to easily immerse me in the story.  I'd probably wanna read this book when it comes out, lol.
There is no spoon

mactombs

Okay, I've read through.

My advice is pretty simple (because as far as I can tell, there's only one thing that might be hindering you). So here it goes...

Simplify. First and foremost, tell a story. Don't let the details get in the way. Keep the action in motion, and only describe things when you absolutely have to (i.e., when it interacts with the main character). For instance, often it's not even necessary to describe a character's appearance at all, since readers are most likely to forget anyway. What's more important to readers is getting to know your characters by how they act and what they do.

Here an example: instead of, say, describing a castle, how it got there, what it's made of, who lives there, etc. and in the process stopping the story's flow, you could do the following: "Gary hated mornings, even summer mornings. There wasn't enough sun, and to make it worse, the shade of the castle spires stretched halfway across the town in the morning. Gary shuddered every time he passed into their shade - like stepping into a river. It took ten paces across to get to the sunny side again. Ten miserable paces under a rotting granite hulk that overshadowed in more than one sense. It made him wish for a return of whatever engines had left the blight of pits across the moldy walls. Tear it all down!"

Anyway, here's annother example edited from the first part of your chapter you can compare:

"Ikeda had spent the night in the barn, working on his woodcarving. With every shaving, the goddess Alma took shape: she was standing upright, in a silk dress, and held a lotus above her head in prayer.
   He wanted to make every detail perfect – he wanted the silk to flow like liquid, her lotus real enough that people would wonder why it never wilted. Most of all, Ikeda wanted a perfect copy of the image in his mind, so that those who saw the goddess felt her love and mercy the way he did.
   Ikeda prayed to her often. And he knew she heard him. So he wanted his carving to please her.
   Not only that, if his masterwork came out half as well as he wanted it, he could sell it for a respectable genos at the shrine."

That's it. Just simplify. Tell the story, tell the character's story, and keep it moving!

Everything else is good, in my opinion. It's got great detail (just keeping it confined to the character's experience as he moves about the world is the tricky bit), the storyline seems promising, and it's good with telling it from Ikeda's point of view.

I think the real trick with writing is to make it so that anybody can read your story and easily understand what's going on with your protaganist and why he's going through it. Make it easy reading and your readers will thank you for it.
A certain degree of neurosis is of inestimable value as a drive, especially to a psychologist - Sigmund Freud

LordoftheBunnies

Hi Mactombs and thanks a bunch for reading through my chapter.  I found your suggestions to be very helpful. [:D]

BTW, just in case you're interested, this chapter is from my story SpectralDragon explored in the fictional worlds topic.

need

I'd love read the rest of the story.

techno_fantasyix

Here's the first chapter of the book that I set down all my secrets in.When I am done, I am going to send it to every major Publishing house in Europe and the Americas.Please give me a review when you are finished reading it.


 Act I. Blueberry Diarrhea Metamorphosis
     
     It was late evening, and once again, the good Dr. Thujone went through the ritual of poking the edges of Mr.Squiggle's brain via his eardrum with a very sharp stick.Every time Squiggles uttered a simian shriek, the large disco ball overhead lit up.The stereo came on, and Thujone began to groove with the smooth tunes of Parlament Funkadelic.
    He inserted a bit of carmel popcorn into the monkey's brain to stop the bleeding, and fervorently hoped his clown lover wouldn't bust through the door at any second, moaning about his hemmroids.Not knowing the monoboxtoyl-90 in the cheap popcorn would turn the monkey into a messiah and undisputed ruler of the cosmos, Thujone retired to his pickup truck to chew pine needles and plot the movement of the Pleaides.
    Morag the Philosopher Circus-Clown began to cry as he realized his lover had left him inside the gigantic Fischer-Price replica again. He laid down on the cold plastic surface and felt very sorry for himself.
    Meanwhile, 12 honored Elders of different galaxies sat upon their thrones and decided on the fate of the universe.
     The good doctor of Melbert sat upon his specially designed beanbag and pondered his research as he bit into his mung bean sandwich. He snorted escatically, and a mung bean became hung up in his nose! He had dreaded this day for centuries, but got up, went to his bean-shaped goody holder, and pulled out a chopstick.Ah, the wonders of precognition.The odd vibrations in the lodged bean indicated to him that one of their kind had gone horribly wrong and was plotting to murder him.Zamboota jumped up, ran to his window, and looked out through his lacy curtains to see if anyone was there, but no one was.

LordoftheBunnies


mactombs

Yes, post about your progress LotB, I'm interested in seeing how it goes for you. [:D]
A certain degree of neurosis is of inestimable value as a drive, especially to a psychologist - Sigmund Freud

LordoftheBunnies

The following is the first chapter of a fantasy book I have been getting ready to send out to agents.  I know this is rather long, but if possible I would greatly appreciate it if someone could help me critique it and give some suggestions.






Chapter 1: Carvings of a Goddess

   The morning light streaming through the barn window shone upon the specks of dust that drifted about lazily on weak air currents, slowly moving up and down between rafters and barn floor as though in a dance.  Some of it settled lightly on the windowsill beneath the silken web of a large spider that had made its home there the night before.  It also drifted down upon the wood shavings that littered the barn floor.  There were thousands of shavings there, some scattered about haphazardly while others were stacked in piles.  Every now and then a mouse would quietly scurry along, clearly annoyed that the wood shavings had settled on the path it normally took to get to its nest.  Some of the dust also settled on the face of Ikeda.

   Ikeda had spent the whole night out here in the barn, working on one of the greatest woodcarvings he had ever attempted.  He was sitting on a stool, the carving seated on another stool in front him.  The two foot tall block of wood he had brought in from the nearby woods had been gradually taking form over the past several hours.  It was a carving of the goddess Alma.  With every wood shaving that fell to the floor, the goddess's form became more discernable, the vision in his head taking form.  She was standing upright, dressed in a silk dress and holding a large lotus flower above her head, appealing to God to shower his blessings upon the world.  Ikeda was paying attention to every minute detail, as even the slightest mistake could foul up his work.  Alma was a wonderful deity, the goddess of love and mercy.  He prayed to her frequently, and wanted the carving to be as perfect as possible.  Also, if he was successful in perfecting it, he could sell his work for a decent number of genos at the shrine.

The curled wood shavings had been collecting around him all throughout the night, much of it on his feet and sandals as well.  Long hours of working at his own pace had lulled him into a calm, detached state of mind.  It was always a joy to him, to be able to let go of his mundane worries and explore the depths of his dreams, bringing a tiny piece of that undefined wonder from the magical place where beings like Alma dwelled back into the waking world.  However, as if to remind him to bring his thoughts back down to earth, Ikeda's tranquil focus was interrupted abruptly by the song of birds outside the window.

He looked up and blinked absently.  "What?  Did I work all night?"

When he got engrossed enough in this, his chosen craft, he could work for hours on end without realizing any time had passed at all.  It was a trait that had gotten him into trouble numerous times in the past.  The priests didn't appreciate lateness.

   Ikeda looked down at the wooden figure and let out a short sigh.  "I guess it's time to put you away for awhile."

   He stood, dust falling from his smooth blond hair.  He picked up the carving and carried it to a wooden box in the corner near several abandoned horse stalls.  Producing a key from his pocket, he opened the chest and set the carving of Alma inside, taking care not to damage it in any way, and covered the box with a woolen blanket hung from a nearby peg.  Finished, he strode over to the barn doors and pushed them open.  Ikeda squinted his eyes against the sudden flood of blinding light.  He removed the goggles that had been protecting his eyes from the dust, hung them on the handle of the barn doors and swung them shut.
 
After locking the doors and rattling the latch to make sure it was tight, he shaded his eyes with his right hand and looked up.  The weather today would be very hot; he couldn't find a single cloud in the parched blue sky.  A slight breeze was whistling along, rustling the tops of some nearby evergreens and producing a soothing sound as it weaved through the pine needles.
 
   The ground beneath Ikeda's feet was wet from the dew that had settled overnight.  He quietly cursed that he hadn't worn shoes instead of sandals.  He was always forgetting things like that.  Just like how he often lost track of the time.
 
The shrine Ikeda had lived in for as long as he could remember kept very strict rules about being on time, meeting deadlines and following rules in general.  Creation was beautiful, but it was also orderly, and divine blessing was not to be gained by the lazy or inattentive.  Their strict approach to things often conflicted with Ikeda's personality, as he tended to be relatively carefree.  Many of the priests had been utterly flabbergasted and enraged when they learned of Ikeda's budding interest in woodcarving, having expected him to make use of the blessing of being raised in the shrine by studying to become a scholar or priest.  Feeling trapped by it all, Ikeda had wanted to move out, but despite the differences between him and his elders he still couldn't pull himself away from the shrine.  It had been his home for so long, and although he longed to go out and explore the world he felt like something was holding him back.
 
He had started making money by working in the shrine library, and also got some payment from his woodcarvings.  In fact, he had accumulated enough money to take care of himself...somewhat at least.  He would be able to care for his basic needs, but would definitely not be living in luxury.  He would probably have to settle for one of the poor abodes on the outskirts of the city.  That might work for a time, but Ikeda wanted more, he wanted to explore the outside world, to find adventure outside the confines of his hometown.  For years he had felt a gnawing void in his heart, a need that beckoned to him whenever he read about the old legends or looked out over the countryside at night.   However, though he might wish for some unlikely adventure to come whisk him away, Ikeda was still smart enough to realize that he would need money to pursue the adventures that no doubt waited in the outside world.  Woodcarving wasn't a particularly wealthy profession, and far less profitable than the use of stone and metal.  Also, in a time when the lost wonders of the ancient days were being discovered once again, certain crafts, which had once been passed down for centuries, were slowly becoming obsolete.  The city officials were already planning to have factories built which had the potential to reduce crafts once revered for their artistic value into mere labor.  Still, it was an art he had grown to love, and he couldn't bear to tear himself away from it.
 
However, despite the money he'd earned, a shrine priest named Ogden Kerstoses who had cared for him throughout his childhood insisted that he would have to abide by shrine rules as long as he remained there.  Although he did not like having everything so structured, there was very little Ikeda could do about it.  Besides, he had always liked the spiritual atmosphere of the shrine.  It made him feel at peace with himself.  Furthermore, starting with their seventeenth name day, boys were required to spend three years of service in the military.  He would be turning seventeen in less than a month, but since he lived in the shrine Ikeda was exempt.  He might have wanted to be a warrior once, but not now.  The prospect of going off to die in an uncaring world that was not his own frightened Ikeda.  Being taken into the shrine was a sign of blessing, an indication that one had performed enough good deeds, rather in this life or a previous one, to be allowed to live in the house of God.  It was not something to be taken lightly.  Still, at times he felt odd about staying there, as though he was somehow out of place.
   
   Noticing the position of the sun, Ikeda sighed.  "Damn it, I'm so late, Ogden is going to have my hide when I get back..."

   Still mumbling to himself, Ikeda made for the pond that laid a short distance from the barn.  Dragonflies were darting over the water, and several frogs were sunning themselves on the rocks at the pond's edge.  Feeling the vibrations produced by his approach, the frogs jumped away and swam off through the reeds.  A group of waterfowl floated serenely in the distance, preening their feathers.  The sunlight danced upon the water's surface, bathing it in emerald radiance.
 
Ikeda bent down on one knee and splashed the clear water over his face, washing away dirt and grim.  The cool water felt good on his skin.  He ruffled his hands through his straight hair, shaking out a large amount of dust.  He stared down at his reflection, trying to see whether he had cleaned himself properly.  The reflection stared back at him, straight blond hair appearing to almost glow in the sunlight.
 
People were often amazed when they saw how incredibly bright and light colored Ikeda's hair was.  They often speculated that he was originally a foreigner, and had come from one of the frozen northern lands like Hatsus or Talu, since people from the southern kingdoms generally didn't have such light colored hair.  It was short in the back, and long in the front with a part down the middle.  It looked messy, as though it had been blown about by the wind.
 
Ikeda rubbed some of the dust from his arms.  Looking down, he realized that his white shirt and baggy brown pants were covered in shavings as well.  He brushed them off, grumbling in annoyance.  How ridiculous, he looked like an Amadethain beggar!
 
Finished cleaning himself, Ikeda watched several boatmen dart over the pond's surface for a short moment before he glanced upward, and noticed a reflection moving at the far side.

   His gaze continuing to rise, he saw a young man dressed in white combat pants with no shirt punching and kicking the air.  The fighter was six feet in height, half a foot taller than Ikeda.  Although still lean, he was a good deal more muscled than Ikeda, his shoulders broad and powerful.  His spiky black hair stuck out in seemingly every direction, and at the back of his head it was tied into a short ponytail.  Sweat covered his forehead and his muscular chest, running down hard pectoral muscles to his abdomen.  The fighter's name was Saro Rumiko.  Being eighteen years old he was enlisted in the army, and a junior trainee of the Pakken martial arts school.  In Alicia, the Pakken warriors were considered servants of the shrine and government.  They were viewed as warriors of the true God Hemonos, and had a significant presence in the military, valued for their skill and knowledge of battle tactics.  It was a tradition that went back hundreds of years.  Saro was presently held in reserve, training diligently until he was called upon to serve his country.

He was practicing combat forms.  He moved gracefully from stance to stance and technique to technique, focusing intensely on what he was doing.  He was moving very quickly, fists flying through the air with blinding speed.
 
   I'll bet I know why too... Ikeda thought, smiling inwardly.  "Hey Saro, how's your training going?"

   Saro had been right in the middle of a kick, and fell flat on his face in surprise.  A small dust cloud arose, and for a moment he just lay there.  With a groan, the young man raised his head and looked over in Ikeda's direction.
 
When he saw who had called out to him, Saro's face twisted in anger.  "Ikeda you stupid fool!  What do you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that?  Don't you know that interfering with a warrior's training is the same as asking for death?"

   Ikeda deliberately put on an innocent look and rubbed the back of his head.  "Sorry; I thought you knew I was here.  So, have you gotten any better?"

   Over the past couple weeks Saro had been training for the specific purpose of beating Ikeda.  Every summer the city held the Summer Competitions in honor of the time when Hemonos had lent his power and wisdom to the founders of the Way of Hemonos, allowing them to establish their influence throughout southern Thenos.  Youths eighteen and under from around the district participated in competitions of skill and strength.  Saro had entered the youth's sparring division for the past five years, and won it four times in a row.  This year, Ikeda had entered just for fun and despite the fact he had never had any prior martial arts training, he beat everyone, including Saro.
 
Saro had been unable to accept that someone as small and untrained as Ikeda had beaten him.  Ikeda had been rather surprised himself.  Many of the competitors had been much larger and stronger than him.  Although lean and in good shape, Ikeda was shorter and thinner than most. He could still remember his feelings of embarrassed disbelief when they announced him as champion.

   Saro rose and jabbed a finger at Ikeda.  "It's time for a rematch you coward.  This time your luck won't save you.  By the time were done you're going to know what dirt tastes like!"

   Ikeda put on a mocking smile.  Provoking Saro's anger was an amusing pastime.  "You're still sore about me beating you eh?  Sorry if I gave you a couple bruises, it's just that I sort of had to since you where my opponent.  But hey, it looks like you're getting better.  You were beating up the air pretty good there for a moment.  Don't worry, just a couple more years and you might beat me."

   Saro's eyes bulged with rage. "A-a couple years?  How dare you!  I'll show you what true skill is!"
 
   He charged around the side of the pond towards Ikeda, tearing through the undergrowth, birds and insects fleeing before him.  Ikeda stood his ground, not worried in the least.  When he reached Ikeda, Saro let out an aggressive yell and commenced his attack.  Ikeda calmly stepped to the side as Saro threw a punch at his chest.  He leaned to the other side when the second punch came at his head.  Saro was fast and powerful, and attacked with a barrage of multiple blows.  Ikeda reacted by dodging every one of them, his body moving as though it was the simplest thing in the world.  He didn't even need to try to dodge, whenever someone attacked him his body always responded this way without any conscious command.  It was eerie, he didn't know where it came from; it was almost like instinct for him.  Ikeda grabbed Saro's arm.  With another relaxed movement, he flipped the large fighter over his shoulder and into the pond.  Saro smacked the water on his back and created a huge splash that scared away the dragonflies and local waterfowl.
 
   Saro stayed under for a brief moment, and then raised his head and torso above the surface, spitting water out of his mouth and sputtering angrily.  He glared up at Ikeda, face covered in pond muck.
 
Ikeda returned to his pose of several seconds ago, his left hand rubbing the back of his head.  "Sorry, it's just that...well, I don't like getting hit."

#

   Several minutes later they were walking down a pathway that wrapped around several hills, heading back to the shrine.  Other sparse farms dotted the area.  Most of the people here grew either tobacco or wheat.  This year had seen just the right amount of rain and sun, and the farms in Alicia and the surrounding countryside were yielding a larger than average crop.  Farmers were saying that it was due to the large prayer ceremony the priests had held in the spring, asking for Hemonos and the other gods to bless them.

   The sun was rising high in the sky, its rays breathing color and life into the landscape.  The light felt good on Ikeda's skin, and he said silent prayer thanking Hemonos.  He was supposed to do that every morning, but had forgotten earlier.  The light was also evaporating the water off of Saro, making faint lines of steam rise from his body.  Saro had been red with embarrassment when Ikeda pulled him from the shallows.  He hadn't tried to strike Ikeda again, probably because he didn't want another headfirst trip into the pond.  Saro was presently picking bits of muck out of his sodden hair, which had now lost much of its spikiness since the oils he used to get it that way had been washed away.
 
   "I still can't figure it out," Saro murmured angrily.  "You've never had any actual training, never had any real contests other than this summers competition, you're even smaller and weaker than I am.  There's no way you should have been able to beat me or anyone else for that matter."

   Ikeda shrugged.  "It just comes naturally to me.  I see a punch coming at my noggin, and I do things without thinking about it.  I don't know why it happens.  It feels as natural to me as walking."

   "That level of skill is impossible without years of practice," Saro said, eyeing Ikeda suspiciously.  "Stop lying to me, there's no way anyone, much less you of all people, would be able to fight the way you do without any prior training!  Come on, when he have you been practicing?  What about all the time you spent in that barn last night?  You couldn't have been working on one of those carvings of yours the whole time."  He scowled.  "How come the priests let you use that old abandoned barn anyway?  Is it some plot of theirs to have you train in secret and embarrass those of us who haven't been pampered in the shrine?"

   "No," Ikeda replied, feeling rather irritated.  "I really did spend the whole night working on a carving.   Ogden is letting me borrow the place so I can learn responsibility."

   Saro shook his head and went back to picking goop out of his hair.  Saro had asked him the same questions numerous times in the past, and Ikeda had always given the same answers.  Besides, seeing Saro get so mad over it was rather funny.
 
The other citizens of Alicia had also been shocked when Ikeda beat Saro.  The very next day a group of young boys of the Pakken and Soulong schools had come to challenge Ikeda to see if he was for real.  They had happened upon him while he was fishing over a bridge.  At first Ikeda had been confused as to what they seemed so excited about, until one of them punched at his head.  He ran away, but beat up quite a few of them in the process, particularly one who had tried to claim he was using magic to win.  Except for the holy magic possessed by some of the priests, channeling power and wisdom from the other side was forbidden, and a very serious accusation.

   The Lavonese Mountains to the west were still obscured by mist.  The sunlight looked very beautiful as it came through the vapor, breaking up into countless rays and hues.  The rays also shined down upon the city they were steadily approaching.  
Alicia was one of the most important cities in the kingdom of Scathania, and its rich officials ruled over a wide area.  It was large for a city, stretching from a broad valley at the base of the mountains in the west to trading posts in the woods to the east.  Several major trading routes ran out of Alicia, heading towards other cities of Scathania and the border with Serthose to the east.  The houses, farms and small businesses formed a ring around the walled inner-city that was home to the rich and the most important buildings.  The large castle where the governor lived was seven stories tall, noticeable even from where Ikeda and Saro stood.  Governor Oron Mortell had a fancy for large things, and had continually added new sections onto the castle ever since his appointment to office twenty years ago.  The castle was crafted in the old style from when the Scathania had been ruled by local lords.  Its battlements and parapets were weathered and ancient, towers a dark contrast against the light of the sun.
 
   Even more noticeable than the governor's castle was the shrine of Alicia.  It was thirty stories tall, with an estate that covered a square mile.  The shrine had been erected two hundred fifty years ago and dedicated to the Hemonos religion.  It had been a home for priests and servants of the religion for as long as it had stood.  Martial artists, soldiers and generals had trained there for many years as well.  It was a center of knowledge and intrigue.  Within the last hundred years the shrine had started taking in orphans.  Ikeda was just one of the several hundred orphans who lived there.

From his position the shrine looked like some sort of tower out of a dream, rising up into the heavens as though to reach up to Hemonos himself.  The rays of the sun drifted over the shrine like the gentle caressing hands of a heavenly mother.  Colored glass domes reflected the sun like a mirror, sending a wide spectrum of colors out over the countryside.  The shrine had a commanding presence, its high-arched windows like eyes carefully watching the outside world.  It was Hemonos's power and authority manifested in the mortal realm.  Rumors held that miracles had been used in its construction.  Ikeda could almost feel the energy that radiated from the shrine; it always left him in awe.
 
   He glanced down at his sandals with a frown.  Right now Ogden was probably having a fit.  Last time he was late the old priest had made him stand out in the rain holding a twenty-pound vase above his head for a half hour.  He would have to explain that he was late because he had been working on a carving, if he was lucky Ogden wouldn't punish him.
 
   As they entered the outer city they began to see more signs of life.  People were already going about their business, selling their wares at the shops and stands.  Children were playing on the store-lined streets, chasing each other and laughing.  Most of the houses in this area were relatively poor.  Some roofs had holes and many of the windows were either nonexistent or badly cracked.  Most of the residents still used horses and mules for transportation.  The roads were muddy and the alleyways smelled of rats and refuse.  Saro had to dodge when a woman dumped her garbage out a window.  The two had a loud shouting match which attracted several spectators before Ikeda finally pulled Saro away.
 
   The buildings grew more elaborate the further they went, dirty roads giving way to cobblestone streets.  Unlike the poorer residences, most of these houses were several stories and very beautiful.  They were owned mainly by rich merchants and families of some importance.  Unlike the poorer class, many people here owned carriages pulled by well-breed horses.  Some even owned steam powered carriages imported from the distant land of Ursa.  They were ponderously slow, and prone to breaking down, but so amazing and pricey that the rich couldn't resist purchasing them.  Over the years, more advanced technology had been making inroads into Scathania and other countries throughout the south of Thenos.  Although many people feared the new discoveries, others were filled with great zeal, as it heralded the prophesied age when the wonders of the ancient days would be returned to mankind through Hemonos's blessing.

Besides steam-powered carriages, many of the richer individuals also had access to running water and internal heating fed by steam furnaces.  Steam power had been introduced to the Scathania only three years ago, and its effects were already being seen.  However, it was rumored that the new technology might make some ancient crafts decline in usefulness.  Because of this, the introduction of steam power had met with vehement opposition from the various guilds.  Ikeda was worried about how the changes might affect his prospects a woodcarver.  It seemed his dreams of independence and discovery were becoming more uncertain every day.

Still, much of the new technology was useful.  Ikeda could still remember the wonder he had felt when the shrine priests first "turned on" the water several years ago.  He also remembered how mad they had been at him when he messed up one of the faucets by turning it on and off over and over again to try and figure out how it worked.  He had been even more impressed when he was told that running water and heating systems were quite miniscule compared to the other wonders that had been discovered in Zeltinia and its neighboring countries over the past two hundred years.  He had heard stories of ships that flew through the air, and magic sticks that shot flames.  It was often joked that every new invention and wonder came from Zeltinia.  Many called it the land of science.  He had often dreamed of visiting Zeltinia, of seeing the wondrous lands across the ocean.
 
   The street Ikeda and Saro were on eventually came to the sixty foot stonewall that circled the inner city.  Several guards armed with swords were posted at the gates, and others patrolled the parapets.  Over the past weeks groups of soldiers from the country of Amadeth in the west had been raiding distant towns, and as a result the security had been sharply increased.  Amadeth was a nation of great industry.  They had been experimenting with steam power long before Scathania.  Along with their industrial exploits, they had also developed a powerful army.  Scathania and Amadeth had been enemies for the past fifty years.  As a result of the new manufactured weapons Amadeth was developing, it had been necessary for the Scathanian military to rethink their strategy over the years.  City walls were becoming less useful, and more advanced catapults and siege machines utilizing steam power had been developed.

   Ikeda and Saro passed through the gates.  The inner circle contained mansions, governmental offices and estates along with the shrine and governor's castle.  The grounds were cared for meticulously.  It was the most beautiful section of the city.  Many of the estates had sprawling gardens, hedge mazes and ponds.  Despite its beauty though, at times Ikeda felt odd here, as though he didn't belong.  He was, after all, just a poor orphan.  He was very fortunate to have been allowed to live in the shrine.

   As Ikeda and Saro passed by the gardens, the servants working there yelled out greetings to them.  Ikeda smiled and waved to several girls tending to a grove of trees.  Both of them were well liked by the people here, particularly Saro.  The young fighter glanced to the right at the sound of wood hitting wood.  A group of Pakken trainees were practicing on a wooden training platform under a grove of aspens.  Some were practicing bare-handed fighting, while others sparred with wooden swords.  A muscular senior student with short brown hair, and a thin old man dressed in a white, girdled robe were watching the others.  The senior student was the well-known fighter Ralnas Granobe, and the old man was Xio Wang, the Pakken grandmaster.  Ralnas glanced casually at Ikeda, then turned back to watching the trainees.
 
   "Well, its time for me to join them," Saro said, smiling haughtily.  His voice descended into a whisper that dripped with thinly veiled hostility.  "You should join us someday Ikeda.  I'm not one of the better fighters among them.  They would put you in your place.  Why, my master could gut you like a pig if he so wished.  Perhaps then you'll learn...hey, are you listening to me?"

   Ikeda turned away from watching a group of servant girls tending a flowerbed and shrugged.  "Yeah, your master likes to gut pigs.  So?"
   
   Saro's right eye twitched.  "Lazy untrained shrine brat..." he muttered as he turned to walk away.

   Saro approached the training platform.  A couple of servant girls who had been watching the trainees turned their attention upon him.  A look of genuine fear came to Saro's face when they spotted them, and he tried to walk around to the other side of the training platform.  The girls followed Saro persistently, calling out to him.  Saro tried to walk faster, but they eventually caught up with him.
 
   "Excuse me ladies, but I really need to get up there," he said awkwardly.

   "Oh Saro, why would you want to be with them when you can spend time with us?" one of the girls cooed.

   They crowded around Saro, not giving him any chance to escape.  Face flushed, he turned, tripped and fell to the ground.  Some of the people on the platform were laughing.  Ralnas shook his head, a wide grin on his face.  Even Xio looked like he was chuckling mildly.

   Ikeda turned away, laughing to himself.  He can't even fend off his own admirers, much less me.
 
   The area right outside the shrine was covered with rose bushes.  A refreshing scent hung upon the air.  Ikeda strode through a small pathway that led through the bushes to a concealed doorway on the side of a stone tower covered with ivy.  He grabbed the handle and opened it slowly, hoping Ogden wouldn't be there waiting for him.  As he peeked around the side of the door a waft of cool air greeted his face.  The architecture of the shrine was designed to keep the interior cool during Scathania's hot summer months.  
Ikeda sidled through the doorway and closed it as quietly as he could.  He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, and then started down the hallway.
 
To his right and left loomed ominous statues of mythical creatures.  Ikeda could hear the faint sound of religious chanting drifting down the corridor.  At this time of the day priests and laymen would be kneeling in front of the thirty-foot statue of Hemonos in the central chapel.  The immense dome ceiling echoed and amplified any sound made beneath it.

   It was fortunate that he was only late for breakfast and not the evening session, as that was when the orphans and other denizens of the shrine were expected to worship along with the priests.  Ogden really would have had his hide then.
 
   Ikeda reached the end of the dark hallway and peeked around the corner into the chapel.  Before him rose the statue of Hemonos.  It was clad in golden armor that shone in the light pouring in through colored glass windows.  Eight wings, four for each side, sprouted from Hemonos's back.  The wings were studded with gems, and got bigger as they went from top to bottom.  The lowest wings were only five feet in length, while the highest ones stretched out forty feet in both directions.  Although not noticeable to the people worshipping in front of the statue, from his position Ikeda could make out the thick wire cables used to support the colossal wings.  Without those cables the wings would probably break off from the statue and come crashing down.

   Hemonos's huge, muscular arms were crossed in front of his chest.  The hands looked like a cross between human hands and cat paws.  Giant claws sprang forth from the fingertips.  One of the clawed hands held a forty-foot staff.  At its apex was a large red ruby.

   Perhaps the most riveting part of the statue was the head.  In the center was a normal human face, and circling around it were smaller faces.  Each face looked like a different animal.  One was a lion, another a wolf, a couple others unidentifiable monsters.  Ikeda had been taught that each face represented different manifestations of Hemonos's powers and thoughts, as well as different ways in which his divine rule manifested itself in the mortal plane.  A crown studded with gold and red rubies circled the forehead.  A long mane of white hair made from various alloys fell over the statue's back down to the waist.

   A crowd of worshippers were kneeling before the statue, performing their daily worship.  The lesser priests were the farthest from the statue and dressed in simple gray robes.  In the middle were the middle-level priests, dressed in yellow robes with a gold sash around their waists.  In the front were the high priests, dressed in very elaborate white robes decorated with intricate figures and jewelry.  Some of them held ornate wooden staffs which bore the icon of Hemonos at their apex.  The foremost among them, a wizened old man named Josephes Ultrel, held a staff which was slightly bigger than those of his comrades and gilded in gold, designating him as the highest ranked priest in the shrine.

   Behind the priests were various nobles, officials and merchants.  At the far end of the chapel were the poorer members of the community.  Some of them were clothed in mere rags, probably the poor people who lived in the huts at the city's edge.

   Ikeda watched the hundreds of worshippers for a brief moment, and then creep behind the statue.  He tiptoed to the other side and peeked out again to see if anyone had noticed him.  No one looked in his direction; all of their attention was focused on the statue.  Oddly enough, he felt as though someone up there was watching him.  Dismissing it, Ikeda made for a cluster of broad pillars at the far wall.  He stayed in the shadows, slipping from one pillar to the next until he reached the corridor that led to the dining hall.

   The passage was lit with oil lamps.  They cast a yellowish haze that illuminated the tapestries decorating the walls.  As he walked by, Ikeda stopped and glanced at one tapestry that always caught his eye whenever he went through this part of the shrine.  It depicted the gods Hemonos, Alma and Youros.  They were on top of a mountain, sending down a divine light towards the people below them.  The light settled on what looked like elegant men and women, priests and rulers.
 
Below the people receiving the divine blessings were those who did not.  They were being tortured and eaten alive by the Virtogeist, beings of the underworld.  The divine light stopped just short of them as if they were some sort of plague.  At the bottom of the tapestry were words woven into the fabric.

   Hemonos and his children reward those who obey them and work hard in this life, and punish those who do not.  For the righteous ones awaits divine blessing and prosperity.  When Kaetsu comes, the time of blessing shall favor them.  For those who disobey the commands of the almighty Hemonos there is only suffering.  They shall be lower than the beasts of the field.  They shall be the lowly ones, without roof or sustenance.  They shall suffer in this world and the next.  The arrival of Kaetsu shall bring their shame to the fore.  Only by obeying Hemonos may their souls find happiness, and be pulled from the pits of the abyss.

   Ikeda always felt a chill pass over him whenever he looked at this particular tapestry.  The fact one of the lowly ones looked like him didn't help, to say the least.  That particular lowly one was on a rack and having his entrails slowly ripped out by several hooks that a wolf-like being had attached to his stomach.
 
   Ikeda turned away from the tapestry and looked up at the ceiling as childhood memories washed over him.  He could remember the nightmares he used to have about these tapestries when he was just a child.  One night he had a nightmare that he laid injured in a gutter, his flesh being eaten alive by rats sent from the underworld, unable to do anything except lay there shrieking in agony.  The divine light had passed over him, and it was his fate to suffer.    One another occasion he awoke screaming that the creatures of hell were chewing on his toes.  Ikeda had lost control of his temper when the other boys laughed over him, knocking one out cold.

   The more Ikeda thought about it over the years, the more those dreams haunted him.  After all, outside of his home in the shrine he would be poor, and unable to pursue the dreams and adventures which had always called to him.  There were other professions he could do besides woodcarving, but there was little else he would be good at, little else he would enjoy.
 
Without the shrine would he be...a lowly one?  He believed that Hemonos had blessed him by letting him live there, freeing him from the horrors of poverty and dieing on the battlefield.  But would that blessing last when he moved out into the world?

   Depressed, Ikeda skulked over to a small window.  He wasn't supposed to feel like this, it wasn't proper, the shrine was supposed to lift his spirits.  What a silly child he was.  The sun was drawing closer to the center of sky and more people were walking through the lawns below.  He saw several dressed in rags heading towards the entrance to the main hall.  They were probably poor farmers who had moved into the city over the past decade, chasing after dreams of a better life.

"The lowly ones," a priest had once called them.
 
Ikeda watched them pass by and muttered under his breath, "Is it really fair?"