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Lil Stras 007
01-26-2007, 12:03 AM
Hey guys, I started a book. I only have the prologue and the first chapter but I would like to get your ideas and help on this. I do not have much expirience as a writer but I enjoy it. The book still remains untitled. This is the plot (so far)

Evil person (Zarquad) attacks and takes over boy's town Boy runs away and escapes. Hides in the forest and gathers an army of magical beings and other run aways. Takes back over town. Turns out he is the former kings illegimate son and becomes king.

Thats all I have right now. I worry that it is to similar to other fantasy/adventure books but oh well. There is a possible romance and maybe somebodys death in there. Considering I haven't written the second shapter yet the plot is still very open.

Lil Stras 007
01-26-2007, 12:03 AM
Prologue

The messenger burst into the tent. He was obviously exhausted, but somehow managed to speak. “General, sir…”he had to stop and take several breaths before he continued “…the town of Vicku has been sighted.” He gave one last gasp before he collapsed on the floor, out cold. The man he had been addressing looked at him with contempt.
He looked much like the messenger, tall and thin with pale, almost white skin that came from never going out in the sun, and red , cat-like eyes that shone in the gloom of the tent like blood-red rubies. They both wore loose fitting clothes, though the general’s were much more luxurious. For this was General Zarquad, the feared leader of the most ruthless band of warriors ever to roam the desert, commonly know as the Coyotes.
To survive in the climate of the desert, the Coyotes slept in caves during the day, and hunted and attacked by night. They had two different set of clothing they wore. During the day, light loose robes. During the night, thick warm clothes to protect them from the cold. When they were travelling, they would go by night on their black stallions, and then they would make a camouflaged camp and would sleep in thick tents that blocked out the sun during the day. However, because of this, they never saw the sun, so their skin was pale like a ghost. Also their whole bodies were covered in scars.
Their skin was very sensitive to light because it never saw the sun, so it was very painful for them to stay outside during the day for long periods. To become a warrior of the band, the boy or man who wanted, or was forced, to join would be cut all over their body by the spears and swords of other warriors. Then they would have to stand naked outside for three long days, with no food or drink. By day they burned, with their salty sweat stinging in their cuts. And by night they froze and turned blue with cold. If they died, it didn’t matter. It was just proof that they were weak. And if they gave in, the other warriors would kill them on the spot, because giving in is another sign of weakness. If somebody did survive this ordeal, they became a warrior. They could never run away because now the scars from the cuts were dark brown, instead of white, from standing in the sun and they were all over their bodies. They were on their arms, legs and faces. The scars marked them as a Coyote and made them easy to track if they deserted. Later, the new warriors would get other scars that were white, and the combination gave them a fearsome look. They got the new scars from fighting.
The Coyotes fought a lot because that was how they survived. They would travel until they came upon a village, and then attack the village. They would then ransack it, taking whatever they liked. Food, clothes, money, jewellery, women and children to keep or sell as slaves and anything else they wanted .They would then load up their pack horses and go back home. “Arhhhhh.” Just then the messenger moaned and Zarquad glared at him. As Zarquad looked at the messenger, he decided he better get someone to help him. He could have important information. “Jasmine! Zarph! Come!” he shouted. Almost before the words were out of his mouth, a man and woman came in. They had shaved heads and brands on their shoulders to show that they were slaves. They came in, bowing and mumbling praise to the great and glorious General Zarquad. General Zarquad silenced them with a wave of his hand. “You,” He said in a cold, clear voice pointing to Jasmine. “Fetch cold water and a cloth to revive this messenger,” Jasmine quickly left the tent to follow his orders. “And you,” Now pointing to Zarph,“ wake-up Officer Kazaar. Tell him we have received the signal and tonight is the night we attack Vicku! Tell him to prepare the men. We march at dusk.” Zarph scampered out of the tent. General Zarquad leaned back on his chair and looked around him at the luxury that he was surrounded by.
The finest pillows, carpets, and clothes were in piles all around him. But none of it had been easy to earn. All his life he had worked hard. Many fights had been fought, and many enemies had been made. But it was worth it. For now he had status, wealth, and respect and, above all, POWER. But there was one more thing he wanted. Zarquad was tired of the desert. He was tired of the sand getting into everything, the crazy weather; freezing cold nights, and days so hot that the moment you opened your mouth all the moisture evaporated, leaving you with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. He was fed-up with sleeping in tents, and always being on the run from the law. He wanted to settle down somewhere where he could rule in luxury, and could be a proper king, with a palace, many slaves, along with people to rule over. But the place would have to be isolated and safe, otherwise friends and relatives of the people he had killed, or even the few who had survived, who wanted revenge would never stop trying to kill him. None of them could do any real harm to Zarquad, but they were like flies, easy to swat but so numerous that even a general like Zarquad who got pleasure from killing found them annoying and tiresome. There was only one place safe enough for his kingdom, one place so unreachable and isolated that no one would ever bother him again, and that was the town of Vicku.
Just then Jasmine hurried into the tent with cold water and a cloth and started moping at the fainted messenger’s head. As she came in the open tent flap let sunlight stream in. Jasmine quickly pulled down the heavy canvas flap and glanced at Zarquad. But Zarquad was to preoccupied with thoughts of his future kingdom to notice her. The reason Vicku was the only place safe enough was because it was almost impossible to attack. It was surrounded on four sides by impassable obstacles.
To the north of Vicku lay a dangerous enchanted forest, where if you drank from the wrong stream you could be turned into stone, or you could be attacked by an angry ogre or giant if you accidentally stepped onto its territory. The forest was also host to its own unique magical creatures, such as the Shadowscares, which only came out at night in the form of shadows, and when they attacked someone they took on the shape of their worst nightmare so the victim was paralyzed with fear, then they would suck out all the blood of the poor creature or person then leave the body .No one would touch the carcass, not even the harpies, half human half vultures who fed on dead bodies, because the soul of the creature was still trapped inside, withering in agony. On the next full moon, the Shadowscares would surround the dead body and release up the tortured soul, and another Shadowscare would be created. Luckily, they only had to eat once a year, and after that they would disappear. Even still, they were very dangerous.
To the south lay a treacherous sea-monster infested ocean. The waves were so rough, and the storms so bad (not to mention the magical creatures that lurked in it) that no ship could sail in it.
To the east lay impassable mountains, in which caves dragons, trolls, and dwarfs, and a few others made their homes. And finally, to the west lay the desert of unbearable heat and massive sandstorms that none could survive. That was, except General Zarquad and his army. For they knew the ways of the desert, since they had lived there all their lives. General Zarquad couldn’t help letting a little smile appear on his face at the thought of how surprised the people of Vicku would be. Of course he would have to kill the king, queen and any heirs they might have, so they wouldn’t start a rebellion. At the thought of killing, General Zarquad gave a little chuckle of glee. Jasmine, who was propping the now awake messenger against a pillow, heard a strange sound and gave a startled glance at the General. Was that a laugh? She quickly dismissed the idea. No one had ever heard Zarquad laugh. Jasmine quickly got back to work mopping at the bow of the dehydrated messenger, hoping that General Zarquad hadn’t noticed her stare. Unfortunately for Jasmine, he had. “What are you looking at, slave.” He snarled. “N-n-nothing, O wonderful General Zarquad, Ruler of the Desert, King of the Coyotes…”Jasmine stammered before General Zarquad silenced her with a wave his hand. He turned his attention the messenger. “Good, you’re awake. State your name and rank.” Zarquad noticed that Jasmine was still there. “Your presence is no longer needed, go see what is keeping Zarph from reporting back, and then you may return to the slave tents.” Jasmine gave a silent sigh of relief, for being in the presence of someone who could have you killed with just a signal to his guards was very nerve racking. And Jasmine was dog tired because she was not used to being up during the day, but she and Zarph had been awakened to attend to General Zarquad needs as he awaited word from the scouts. As Jasmine went out into the blazing sun, she heard the beginning of the messengers and General Zarquads’s conversation.
“Kaari, sir. Messenger of the 5th Scout Group, receiving orders from Captain Araa.” Replied the messenger.
“Good, good.” Murmured Zarquad and leaned back in his chair to hear the rest of the report.

Lil Stras 007
01-26-2007, 12:05 AM
Chapter One

“Run, Run!” shouts Mother. As I run my sack bangs against my back. I look back to see a wave of terror and death crashing down upon us, in the form of people dressed in black upon dark horses. I can see their red eyes and their evil smiles and hear their evil laughter. Why are they here? Who are they? My thoughts are interrupted by Mother catching up with me and pushing my back to make me go faster. I try but I can’t because of the crowd. My neighbours and friends are running in panic and screaming in their night clothes. I try to push my way through but my hand touches the person in front of me and I feel something sticky. I pull my hand back quickly and it is covered in blood. Mother and I make it to the statue of King Edward the third and the Sea Monster in the middle of the square. Halfway there. We have a little time to breathe and I look back and by the flickering light of burning houses I see bodies, trampled and bloody. I quickly turn away and Mother tells me to run and hide in the enchanted forest and that she will be right behind me. The men on horses are getting closer, cutting down people as if they were just cutting wheat. I take one last big breath and prepare to run for my life. But before I go Mother grabs me by the arm and I turn and face her. “Whatever happens, I will always love you James.” Tears start running down her face and I gently wipe them off with my hand. “I love you too” I reply and then I turn and run. I can hear Mother behind as I push my way through the crowd in the Main square, trying to get to the other side were the alley that would lead me to the forest was. I hear a scream behind me and turn around. A man on a horse had run her down a he was just pulling his sword out of her chest. There was blood on the sword. Mother’s blood. “Mother! MOTHER!”




Chapter Two