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Tarda Furor
You were there.
When the walls were breached. I saw you. Holding strong among the men, your brothers in arms. I heard the wood groan and rasp, giving what little strength it had to try and hold off the darkness.The abyssal spawn. But mere wood can not hold out against such heaving foes. When it started to buckle, they faltered. You did not. You held strong, I watched with awe as you stood there, like the mighty oak against the monsoon.
You were there.
But one man can not change fate.
I watched them drag your body to the grand cathedral. They cried, like children who had just lost their mothers, their howling echoed off the stone walls of the city. The streets ran red. I remember watching as they all fled, trying to escape. But none ever did. So many “heroic” men stood in the path, but all wavered as their last seconds came.
You were there.
When the tides finally reached the final bastion of our Gods that remained. Wounded, you stood. Sword in hand, defiance in heart. When they all stood frozen in fear, you rallied them. One last candle burning brightly in the night. But one candle can not stave off the abyss forever. Did you see them? Crawling, churning. masses of rotting flesh? I saw them. I stared while they ran.
You were there.
At the castle. The seat of the king. You, who held onto life by only a string, held vigil with the royal guard. Spell and blade, enough power to hold off an army. But no one can fight forever. I saw them ever so slightly give into the fatigue. Like the sea chipping away at the shore, it was only a matter of time. I remember the King. So mighty. Yet he fell. I saw his eyes as he died. They were dark. I knew then. I found the truth.
You were there.
As we all fled. As our homes burned to the ground. I saw you, wounded, and broken, a knight without a king. You were there with us. You did not look back at the city, you had already seen all of the horror that had happen didn't you? I look away, I had seen it as well. I saw what was to come. I saw what had happened and would happen again. We could never be safe, it would happen again. What use are walls against an ever flowing wave of bodies. What use is a blade that gets stuck in the bones of one as hundreds swarm around?
You were there.
When we settled down. You helped those that were wounded, even as your lifeblood flowed out. Why? Could you not see that they would only slow us down? Of course not. Only I could see that. I made sure they never made it through the night. It was easier to leave them behind, rather then risk everyone. They would only have taken food they could not work to return, they could not keep watch. Why did you waste your efforts to save them? Why? I don't blame you though. I know how it must feel to lose everything. I don't blame you for wanting to hold onto just a little bit of what was left. I don't blame you.
You were there.
When we found the new lands. A land free of the taint, for a while. I saw you bury the dead, we mourned for them. I knew no one would remember their names. They would forget them in time. They would forget the land we came from. They would forget the darkness. I would not. I could not. It would come again. I saw it in your eyes, you wanted to forget like them. But you were like me, you would remember, you had seen what they had not. Your once shining armour, stained with blood and failure. I would remember. I knew you would too.
You were there.
When they started rebuilding. You taught them, like a father teaching a child. They looked up to you. They knew what the armour meant, they knew what you survived. You were a survivor in their eyes, a hero one could say. I enjoyed watching you work with them, you gave them hope, you let them forget. When the walls were finished, I saw you staring at the gate. I knew what you were thinking, it was the same as me. It would not hold. How could it? it was only wood. When you stood on the walls, and cast your gaze across the land, I knew what you were looking for. I did the same at times.
You were there.
When they selected a new Leader. I saw you make your exit. You didn't want the burden of power, did you? How could one who already failed, ever have the ability to succeed? They selected one of the pampered nobles. Why did they not select you. Could they not see that you were the best choice. I knew why they didn't. You did too. You smelt of blood. Your armour a relic of the past. Your sword and arm were no longer needed. They did not want to remember. You would make them remember. You made them remember by simply existing. The new Lord was not as petty as them. I saw the look of relief on your face when he ordered you to train some men, to “Hunt”. If even only a little, at least some would know how to fight. If you could make them like you. If they could stand strong at the gates. Maybe they could hold back the darkness. Is that what you thought? I knew the truth. You did too deep down, even if you didn't want to think about it. You would not forget. I would not either.
You were there.
At night. On the walls. I saw that look. I knew that you worried, it ate at you. Didn't it? How could it not. You knew that they had forgotten, they did not remember the names of those buried just a few feet outside our new home. They did not remember all those who died, they tried to forget the fires and the horror. You wanted to, as well. But you were like me. You could not forget. I could tell, from the way you held onto the stone, the way you hunched. The way you were.
You were there.
At the front. When they marched you through the new streets. They followed you like hounds, your new soldiers. I thought I had seen pride in your eyes, but I knew it couldn't be. You were not like them. There was no way you could forget, there was no way you could take pride in that motley crew. Not when, like me, you knew they would falter once more when the darkness hammered on the gates. You were like me, you knew, you had to know. You were the only one that was like me. You were the only one that also understood it all.
You were there.
When they titled you. When they gave you land. When they gave you charge over the walls, over the city. To protect us. They gave you the duty you had failed at once. I knew it devoured you from the inside. You hid it from them. But I could tell. You knew that the title and land were bribes, but yet you took them. Maybe you hoped that this time you would not fail. I also hoped. But I knew the truth.
You were there.
In the slums. I saw you hand food out to the wretches. Why would you do that. You needed that. You had to get stronger if you wanted to be able to hold it off when it returned. I saw they way they looked at you, and your stained armour, the smiles. They hid daggers. They didn't thank you, they wanted you dead. They blamed you. And you knew it, because I knew you knew. I knew. I always knew. You were like me. They would not accept you.
You were there.
In your new armour. It was shiny. It gleamed. I knew you hated it, because I hated it. They got rid of the armour you had stood in for years, the armour that held all those memories. The armour that contained the dried traces of what was once the former city. I knew you had kept it though. You would not get rid of it. You could not let go. Even if they forced you to not wear it, you would always hold onto it. You would keep it to remind you.
You were there.
Once more on the wall. I saw that look in your eyes. You felt the blood on your hands. The armour was now clean, but they could never clean your soul. I felt the same. So I knew you did too. I remembered the fires. The screams. The darkness that consumed everything. I saw the gates fall every night. I saw the King buckle, his armour so heavy, his blood so red. I saw the church swallowed whole. I saw it all every night. Every-time I closed my eyes. It haunted me. That's why I chose to stare. Because every blink brought back the dread. You must have of had the same problem. I knew you did. You had to. Because I knew it. I knew you were like me, so you must of.
You were there.
When they began to train the Sages. I was among the ones selected. I saw you look at me. I saw the doubt. Why? Why did you have that look. Did you not trust me. No. No I knew you knew I was right for this. I knew. You simply were surprised at that moment. Weren't you? How could you not have been? I was too. It surprised us both. I knew that was what you meant. I knew. You didn't worry, you didn't need to. I knew. I would make sure they remembered. They would never get the chance to forget. I would make sure. This time you would hold the gate. Because I would be there as well. I knew You knew this. I had always known.
You were there
When they marched us through the streets. You led us. I was so close to you. I saw the way you walked. It made me calm. The strength you had. The way you moved. I knew that you knew, that we would be able to hold this time. I felt hope. You had given me hope. But. I felt something else. Deep in the back of my mind. What if we couldn't? What if it happen again? What if I faltered as they had? What if I was a weak link? I saw the city again that night as I slept. I saw it all again. And I remembered. I had almost forgotten. You never forgot though. I knew that you didn't forget. I almost failed you by forgetting. I would never let myself forget again.
You were there.
When they deemed me mad. When they claimed that I would bring the darkness. I saw the way you looked at me. I saw the fake look of horror. Of anger. I knew that you were hiding your true feelings. I knew that you were like me. You just wanted to see. To see them remember. I would make them remember the only way I knew how. I would force them to face it again. I knew you would understand. I knew it.
You were there.
On the walls like the rest of them. I saw you run to the gate. I knew that it came. It came because I had called it. And I remembered. I had forgotten. I had brought this once before. In the past I had caused this. I had always caused this. It was me. It had always been me. It had been me. It was for you though. You needed to remember. I knew you would succeed this time. I knew it. This time was different. I could tell. I saw you. Holding strong among the men, your brothers in arms. I heard the wood groan and rasp, giving what little strength it had to try and hold off the darkness. I knew.
You were there.
When it breached the gates. You were ready, but they were not. They had forgotten, they could not steel themselves. They faltered. Once more you did not. I saw you pull them back to the church. It was not as grand as last time. These years had not been kind to it. You forgot me though. I knew you didn't mean to. I knew you had only forgotten. But I saw you, I saw you stare at me. You watched me flee into the burrows. I knew I would find you at the throne once more. Once this was all over. And It would happen again. Maybe next time you would hold. I wondered what you would do different next time. I grew excited when I thought about it. I knew you would be holding strong with the royal guards. With the other sages that had forgotten.
You are here?
Why? Why why why why why. It didn't make sense. Why? You should be there. You should be holding strong. You were like me. You just wanted another chance, to make it right. Why did you not take the chance I gave you. You could have done it again. You could of had them look at you like a hero. They would look at you like I looked at you. They would have known once more. Why are you here? I see you right there. Why are you here? If you do not hold strong. No this isn't right. Have you forgotten? You shouldn't have forgotten. I didn't forget, I know you wouldn't forget. You were like me, you couldn't forget. Why are you here?
You are here.
I can see the look in your eye. Is it anger? Is it rage? No. Why do you look like you pity me? You shouldn't. I remember. I remember I know, I know everything. I know what will make this right. I am giving you a chance. I am making it so they won't forget. They will be like us. They will see the horrors every night. They won't try to change you. Why? Why do you pity me? You should be thanking me. They all should thank me. I have done the right thing. I am doing the right thing. I.
You are here. Right here.
I see it now. I see it clearly. You are like me. Even as you approach. You try to hide it. That look of pity. It is fake. I know it is. It has to be. The way you grab your sword. It betrays what you intend. I knew it. I had always known. You were like me. I was never alone. Never alone. The gentle ringing of your metal sabatons on the stone, it is peaceful. You are here. I can see you. You knew all along. You knew as I knew. You are close now. I can see into the dark pits of your eyes. I know, you know. You are freeing me. Aren't you. That's why. That same sympathy you showed those wretches, the sick, the dying. You intend that for me? I can see it in you. You know that I can't forget. You plan to free me. Don't you. To force me to let it all go. You know the horrors, you remember them as I do. But you want me to forget. You are here to save me. To be a hero. Aren't you? I can tell.
You.
I do not fight it. I know you. You know, I know. I can hear you yelling, there is fake anger in the sounds, but they wash past me. I can hear your true intent. You want to save me. From the dread. Each footfall matches the beat of my heart, the hairs on my skin raise towards the heavens, each one praying I would imagine. They fear. I do not. I can see so clearly. You wait. Why? You are still shouting aren't you? How long will you play this game of teasing. I know what you intend. Hurry. Save me. You draw the blade. I know it well. It's blunted edges, it's stained metal. I smile softly. I know you remember. You could never toss it away. You remember. That sword saw so much during the first City's fall. It killed so many. It saved so many. Now you want to save me with it. No more sounds. You sigh. Another act. Like in a play. A dance. I know you don't mean any of this. You simply are drawing it out.
You.
You move so well. I can tell you trained ever so hard. The movement was fluid, the act of stepping forward. The thrust. The cold eyes. Everything is right. I feel the bite of the sword. It is gentle, compared to the memories. That is why you did it. You knew it would be gentle right? I can feel it. The warmth. I feel it. The blood running along the blade. Every second draws into years. I stare at you dead in the eyes. You do not falter. As you never did. You return the gaze. There is no smile. There is no hate. You look empty. As I knew you would. I feel you pull the blade out? Why. It is not yet done. I am still here. Please. Please. Finish it. No. I see the world tilt, as if the ground is rising up to meet me. I do not welcome it. But I have no strength to reject it. Why? I am still here. Don't leave me just yet. Please
I.
Feel so cold. As if winter has taken refuge in my body to wait for it's season. I am sluggish. My blood is so warm. But it gives me no heat as it leaks out. I want to see. I want to see the city. To see if you did right. My hands have power yet, I can feel the stone with my cold hands, the rough texture eats at my palms as I crawl forward. I must see. Each movement, draws out my life. I have so little left. I would rather you had taken it. You wanted to save me. But you failed. Like you did at the gates so long ago. I know you didn't mean to though. I forgive you.
I.
Can see you now. Why do you lay kneeling? Do you pray? No. Why do you kneel? I want to know. Each gruelling movement pulls me closer. I will know. I can feel the warmth on my hand. I feel lifeblood on the stones. I know. Did you falter? Why? Each breath hurts now. But yet I must get closer. I am so close to you. I can hold you. I know why. You remembered didn’t you. The screaming. The fires. The failure. You saw the streets run red with blood, and you didn't want to see it anymore. I know. I feel the same. But you don’t need to be scared now. Your armour is so cold, as is your skin. But I grow cold as well. I knew we were the same. You just wanted to make it right. As did I. I can feel the abyss now. I pulls at me. It starts with the eyes. My vision grows dark, my blood runs cold. I can still trace every dent in your armour though. You fought so hard. Your armour ruined. Are you scared? I know you can't reply. The abyss has taken you. But do not be scared. I will come to you soon. We can be together then. We can finally forget together. As we remembered together.
I.
Am so tired. I will rest with you forever.
When the walls were breached. I saw you. Holding strong among the men, your brothers in arms. I heard the wood groan and rasp, giving what little strength it had to try and hold off the darkness.The abyssal spawn. But mere wood can not hold out against such heaving foes. When it started to buckle, they faltered. You did not. You held strong, I watched with awe as you stood there, like the mighty oak against the monsoon.
You were there.
But one man can not change fate.
I watched them drag your body to the grand cathedral. They cried, like children who had just lost their mothers, their howling echoed off the stone walls of the city. The streets ran red. I remember watching as they all fled, trying to escape. But none ever did. So many “heroic” men stood in the path, but all wavered as their last seconds came.
You were there.
When the tides finally reached the final bastion of our Gods that remained. Wounded, you stood. Sword in hand, defiance in heart. When they all stood frozen in fear, you rallied them. One last candle burning brightly in the night. But one candle can not stave off the abyss forever. Did you see them? Crawling, churning. masses of rotting flesh? I saw them. I stared while they ran.
You were there.
At the castle. The seat of the king. You, who held onto life by only a string, held vigil with the royal guard. Spell and blade, enough power to hold off an army. But no one can fight forever. I saw them ever so slightly give into the fatigue. Like the sea chipping away at the shore, it was only a matter of time. I remember the King. So mighty. Yet he fell. I saw his eyes as he died. They were dark. I knew then. I found the truth.
You were there.
As we all fled. As our homes burned to the ground. I saw you, wounded, and broken, a knight without a king. You were there with us. You did not look back at the city, you had already seen all of the horror that had happen didn't you? I look away, I had seen it as well. I saw what was to come. I saw what had happened and would happen again. We could never be safe, it would happen again. What use are walls against an ever flowing wave of bodies. What use is a blade that gets stuck in the bones of one as hundreds swarm around?
You were there.
When we settled down. You helped those that were wounded, even as your lifeblood flowed out. Why? Could you not see that they would only slow us down? Of course not. Only I could see that. I made sure they never made it through the night. It was easier to leave them behind, rather then risk everyone. They would only have taken food they could not work to return, they could not keep watch. Why did you waste your efforts to save them? Why? I don't blame you though. I know how it must feel to lose everything. I don't blame you for wanting to hold onto just a little bit of what was left. I don't blame you.
You were there.
When we found the new lands. A land free of the taint, for a while. I saw you bury the dead, we mourned for them. I knew no one would remember their names. They would forget them in time. They would forget the land we came from. They would forget the darkness. I would not. I could not. It would come again. I saw it in your eyes, you wanted to forget like them. But you were like me, you would remember, you had seen what they had not. Your once shining armour, stained with blood and failure. I would remember. I knew you would too.
You were there.
When they started rebuilding. You taught them, like a father teaching a child. They looked up to you. They knew what the armour meant, they knew what you survived. You were a survivor in their eyes, a hero one could say. I enjoyed watching you work with them, you gave them hope, you let them forget. When the walls were finished, I saw you staring at the gate. I knew what you were thinking, it was the same as me. It would not hold. How could it? it was only wood. When you stood on the walls, and cast your gaze across the land, I knew what you were looking for. I did the same at times.
You were there.
When they selected a new Leader. I saw you make your exit. You didn't want the burden of power, did you? How could one who already failed, ever have the ability to succeed? They selected one of the pampered nobles. Why did they not select you. Could they not see that you were the best choice. I knew why they didn't. You did too. You smelt of blood. Your armour a relic of the past. Your sword and arm were no longer needed. They did not want to remember. You would make them remember. You made them remember by simply existing. The new Lord was not as petty as them. I saw the look of relief on your face when he ordered you to train some men, to “Hunt”. If even only a little, at least some would know how to fight. If you could make them like you. If they could stand strong at the gates. Maybe they could hold back the darkness. Is that what you thought? I knew the truth. You did too deep down, even if you didn't want to think about it. You would not forget. I would not either.
You were there.
At night. On the walls. I saw that look. I knew that you worried, it ate at you. Didn't it? How could it not. You knew that they had forgotten, they did not remember the names of those buried just a few feet outside our new home. They did not remember all those who died, they tried to forget the fires and the horror. You wanted to, as well. But you were like me. You could not forget. I could tell, from the way you held onto the stone, the way you hunched. The way you were.
You were there.
At the front. When they marched you through the new streets. They followed you like hounds, your new soldiers. I thought I had seen pride in your eyes, but I knew it couldn't be. You were not like them. There was no way you could forget, there was no way you could take pride in that motley crew. Not when, like me, you knew they would falter once more when the darkness hammered on the gates. You were like me, you knew, you had to know. You were the only one that was like me. You were the only one that also understood it all.
You were there.
When they titled you. When they gave you land. When they gave you charge over the walls, over the city. To protect us. They gave you the duty you had failed at once. I knew it devoured you from the inside. You hid it from them. But I could tell. You knew that the title and land were bribes, but yet you took them. Maybe you hoped that this time you would not fail. I also hoped. But I knew the truth.
You were there.
In the slums. I saw you hand food out to the wretches. Why would you do that. You needed that. You had to get stronger if you wanted to be able to hold it off when it returned. I saw they way they looked at you, and your stained armour, the smiles. They hid daggers. They didn't thank you, they wanted you dead. They blamed you. And you knew it, because I knew you knew. I knew. I always knew. You were like me. They would not accept you.
You were there.
In your new armour. It was shiny. It gleamed. I knew you hated it, because I hated it. They got rid of the armour you had stood in for years, the armour that held all those memories. The armour that contained the dried traces of what was once the former city. I knew you had kept it though. You would not get rid of it. You could not let go. Even if they forced you to not wear it, you would always hold onto it. You would keep it to remind you.
You were there.
Once more on the wall. I saw that look in your eyes. You felt the blood on your hands. The armour was now clean, but they could never clean your soul. I felt the same. So I knew you did too. I remembered the fires. The screams. The darkness that consumed everything. I saw the gates fall every night. I saw the King buckle, his armour so heavy, his blood so red. I saw the church swallowed whole. I saw it all every night. Every-time I closed my eyes. It haunted me. That's why I chose to stare. Because every blink brought back the dread. You must have of had the same problem. I knew you did. You had to. Because I knew it. I knew you were like me, so you must of.
You were there.
When they began to train the Sages. I was among the ones selected. I saw you look at me. I saw the doubt. Why? Why did you have that look. Did you not trust me. No. No I knew you knew I was right for this. I knew. You simply were surprised at that moment. Weren't you? How could you not have been? I was too. It surprised us both. I knew that was what you meant. I knew. You didn't worry, you didn't need to. I knew. I would make sure they remembered. They would never get the chance to forget. I would make sure. This time you would hold the gate. Because I would be there as well. I knew You knew this. I had always known.
You were there
When they marched us through the streets. You led us. I was so close to you. I saw the way you walked. It made me calm. The strength you had. The way you moved. I knew that you knew, that we would be able to hold this time. I felt hope. You had given me hope. But. I felt something else. Deep in the back of my mind. What if we couldn't? What if it happen again? What if I faltered as they had? What if I was a weak link? I saw the city again that night as I slept. I saw it all again. And I remembered. I had almost forgotten. You never forgot though. I knew that you didn't forget. I almost failed you by forgetting. I would never let myself forget again.
You were there.
When they deemed me mad. When they claimed that I would bring the darkness. I saw the way you looked at me. I saw the fake look of horror. Of anger. I knew that you were hiding your true feelings. I knew that you were like me. You just wanted to see. To see them remember. I would make them remember the only way I knew how. I would force them to face it again. I knew you would understand. I knew it.
You were there.
On the walls like the rest of them. I saw you run to the gate. I knew that it came. It came because I had called it. And I remembered. I had forgotten. I had brought this once before. In the past I had caused this. I had always caused this. It was me. It had always been me. It had been me. It was for you though. You needed to remember. I knew you would succeed this time. I knew it. This time was different. I could tell. I saw you. Holding strong among the men, your brothers in arms. I heard the wood groan and rasp, giving what little strength it had to try and hold off the darkness. I knew.
You were there.
When it breached the gates. You were ready, but they were not. They had forgotten, they could not steel themselves. They faltered. Once more you did not. I saw you pull them back to the church. It was not as grand as last time. These years had not been kind to it. You forgot me though. I knew you didn't mean to. I knew you had only forgotten. But I saw you, I saw you stare at me. You watched me flee into the burrows. I knew I would find you at the throne once more. Once this was all over. And It would happen again. Maybe next time you would hold. I wondered what you would do different next time. I grew excited when I thought about it. I knew you would be holding strong with the royal guards. With the other sages that had forgotten.
You are here?
Why? Why why why why why. It didn't make sense. Why? You should be there. You should be holding strong. You were like me. You just wanted another chance, to make it right. Why did you not take the chance I gave you. You could have done it again. You could of had them look at you like a hero. They would look at you like I looked at you. They would have known once more. Why are you here? I see you right there. Why are you here? If you do not hold strong. No this isn't right. Have you forgotten? You shouldn't have forgotten. I didn't forget, I know you wouldn't forget. You were like me, you couldn't forget. Why are you here?
You are here.
I can see the look in your eye. Is it anger? Is it rage? No. Why do you look like you pity me? You shouldn't. I remember. I remember I know, I know everything. I know what will make this right. I am giving you a chance. I am making it so they won't forget. They will be like us. They will see the horrors every night. They won't try to change you. Why? Why do you pity me? You should be thanking me. They all should thank me. I have done the right thing. I am doing the right thing. I.
You are here. Right here.
I see it now. I see it clearly. You are like me. Even as you approach. You try to hide it. That look of pity. It is fake. I know it is. It has to be. The way you grab your sword. It betrays what you intend. I knew it. I had always known. You were like me. I was never alone. Never alone. The gentle ringing of your metal sabatons on the stone, it is peaceful. You are here. I can see you. You knew all along. You knew as I knew. You are close now. I can see into the dark pits of your eyes. I know, you know. You are freeing me. Aren't you. That's why. That same sympathy you showed those wretches, the sick, the dying. You intend that for me? I can see it in you. You know that I can't forget. You plan to free me. Don't you. To force me to let it all go. You know the horrors, you remember them as I do. But you want me to forget. You are here to save me. To be a hero. Aren't you? I can tell.
You.
I do not fight it. I know you. You know, I know. I can hear you yelling, there is fake anger in the sounds, but they wash past me. I can hear your true intent. You want to save me. From the dread. Each footfall matches the beat of my heart, the hairs on my skin raise towards the heavens, each one praying I would imagine. They fear. I do not. I can see so clearly. You wait. Why? You are still shouting aren't you? How long will you play this game of teasing. I know what you intend. Hurry. Save me. You draw the blade. I know it well. It's blunted edges, it's stained metal. I smile softly. I know you remember. You could never toss it away. You remember. That sword saw so much during the first City's fall. It killed so many. It saved so many. Now you want to save me with it. No more sounds. You sigh. Another act. Like in a play. A dance. I know you don't mean any of this. You simply are drawing it out.
You.
You move so well. I can tell you trained ever so hard. The movement was fluid, the act of stepping forward. The thrust. The cold eyes. Everything is right. I feel the bite of the sword. It is gentle, compared to the memories. That is why you did it. You knew it would be gentle right? I can feel it. The warmth. I feel it. The blood running along the blade. Every second draws into years. I stare at you dead in the eyes. You do not falter. As you never did. You return the gaze. There is no smile. There is no hate. You look empty. As I knew you would. I feel you pull the blade out? Why. It is not yet done. I am still here. Please. Please. Finish it. No. I see the world tilt, as if the ground is rising up to meet me. I do not welcome it. But I have no strength to reject it. Why? I am still here. Don't leave me just yet. Please
I.
Feel so cold. As if winter has taken refuge in my body to wait for it's season. I am sluggish. My blood is so warm. But it gives me no heat as it leaks out. I want to see. I want to see the city. To see if you did right. My hands have power yet, I can feel the stone with my cold hands, the rough texture eats at my palms as I crawl forward. I must see. Each movement, draws out my life. I have so little left. I would rather you had taken it. You wanted to save me. But you failed. Like you did at the gates so long ago. I know you didn't mean to though. I forgive you.
I.
Can see you now. Why do you lay kneeling? Do you pray? No. Why do you kneel? I want to know. Each gruelling movement pulls me closer. I will know. I can feel the warmth on my hand. I feel lifeblood on the stones. I know. Did you falter? Why? Each breath hurts now. But yet I must get closer. I am so close to you. I can hold you. I know why. You remembered didn’t you. The screaming. The fires. The failure. You saw the streets run red with blood, and you didn't want to see it anymore. I know. I feel the same. But you don’t need to be scared now. Your armour is so cold, as is your skin. But I grow cold as well. I knew we were the same. You just wanted to make it right. As did I. I can feel the abyss now. I pulls at me. It starts with the eyes. My vision grows dark, my blood runs cold. I can still trace every dent in your armour though. You fought so hard. Your armour ruined. Are you scared? I know you can't reply. The abyss has taken you. But do not be scared. I will come to you soon. We can be together then. We can finally forget together. As we remembered together.
I.
Am so tired. I will rest with you forever.
According to Google Translate, "Tarda Furor" is Latin for "slow to anger" — and it is also Spanish for "it takes a while," which unfortunately is kind of how I feel about this story. :\
I think you've got the core of something interesting here, author. This takes a chance on narrative structure which for the most part pays off; the repetition does its job in building a sense of weight. I'm less enthralled with the way that it suddenly shifts eight segments from the end, especially given the speed of its transformation to its final form. This is also pleasantly readable for a dramatic monologue, with a lot of details and characterization that don't seem out of place in the speech … but that too really starts to fragment near the end, and to me it felt like it crossed the line of overwrought once it started with the lengthy barrage of questions.
Mostly, though, this needs trimming. It only weighs in at 3400 words right now, so it might sound odd to suggest cutting it further, but at its current length it feels padded. The deliberate repetition of "You were there" is one thing, but this piece just keeps hammering over and over on its core emotional note of the knight's struggle with his failure. Past a certain point, continuing to explore those doubts adds nothing new, and even feels like it detracts from the weight of what you've established, because hearing it over and over just started numbing me to the idea.
A few nitpicks on specific prose choices that really threw me:
Uh, maybe not the best analogy, given that you've just finished describing how wood failed …
What just happened here? I'm confused. Apparently "you"s friends retrieved his body and held a funeral procession … and then suddenly massacre? But "you" isn't dead? Why are they mourning then, and why are they dragging the body of a not-dead person?
Anyway, this has promise. Tighten it up (certainly to ~3000; probably even to 2.5k) and give it a little more polish.
Tier: Almost There
I think you've got the core of something interesting here, author. This takes a chance on narrative structure which for the most part pays off; the repetition does its job in building a sense of weight. I'm less enthralled with the way that it suddenly shifts eight segments from the end, especially given the speed of its transformation to its final form. This is also pleasantly readable for a dramatic monologue, with a lot of details and characterization that don't seem out of place in the speech … but that too really starts to fragment near the end, and to me it felt like it crossed the line of overwrought once it started with the lengthy barrage of questions.
Mostly, though, this needs trimming. It only weighs in at 3400 words right now, so it might sound odd to suggest cutting it further, but at its current length it feels padded. The deliberate repetition of "You were there" is one thing, but this piece just keeps hammering over and over on its core emotional note of the knight's struggle with his failure. Past a certain point, continuing to explore those doubts adds nothing new, and even feels like it detracts from the weight of what you've established, because hearing it over and over just started numbing me to the idea.
A few nitpicks on specific prose choices that really threw me:
But mere wood can not hold out against such heaving foes. When it started to buckle, they faltered. You did not. You held strong, I watched with awe as you stood there, like the mighty oak against the monsoon.
Uh, maybe not the best analogy, given that you've just finished describing how wood failed …
I watched them drag your body to the grand cathedral. They cried, like children who had just lost their mothers, their howling echoed off the stone walls of the city. The streets ran red. I remember watching as they all fled, trying to escape.
What just happened here? I'm confused. Apparently "you"s friends retrieved his body and held a funeral procession … and then suddenly massacre? But "you" isn't dead? Why are they mourning then, and why are they dragging the body of a not-dead person?
Anyway, this has promise. Tighten it up (certainly to ~3000; probably even to 2.5k) and give it a little more polish.
Tier: Almost There
Okay, I've been able to finish this after failing once. I must warn you, this review won't be unbiaised but I'll try nonetheless.
The rythm you tried to install by repeating over and over "You were there" fell flat for me. At the third occurence, I already wanted to stop. At the fifth, I quitted. But then I got back to it, because I didn't want to be unfair just because I didn't like the repetitions.
So I'll try to stick on what happens to the character, 'I' and 'you', and because nothing is really detailed, who they are, what happened, why they did this, I didn't care for them. The ending, which, I guess, was supposed to end the story in drama, also fell flat.
Now, I think I understand what you were trying to do by choosing to write like this. And I must admit it was a big risk, but, as I said, it annoyed me more than anything else. Moreover, there are many questions without a quotation mark. I'm sure you have deliberatly chosen which ones would have that quotation and which ones would not, but I didn't get the intention. It felt like you have chosen them randomly, maybe because I'm not a native speaker and thus, I don't have the knowledge to understand it, but with several typos spread here and there, I just can't decide.
Another thing that seems odd is the last two sentences. During the rest of the story, the pace is pretty fast, one sentence after the other, there is a sense of urgency and the last two sentences ends all this speed abruptly.
So I don't know how to rate it because I really disliked the story but I must recognize it was a really good try, and, aside from the two last sentences, the writting is pretty solid and consistent. I'll see about it once I've read the other stories.
The rythm you tried to install by repeating over and over "You were there" fell flat for me. At the third occurence, I already wanted to stop. At the fifth, I quitted. But then I got back to it, because I didn't want to be unfair just because I didn't like the repetitions.
So I'll try to stick on what happens to the character, 'I' and 'you', and because nothing is really detailed, who they are, what happened, why they did this, I didn't care for them. The ending, which, I guess, was supposed to end the story in drama, also fell flat.
Now, I think I understand what you were trying to do by choosing to write like this. And I must admit it was a big risk, but, as I said, it annoyed me more than anything else. Moreover, there are many questions without a quotation mark. I'm sure you have deliberatly chosen which ones would have that quotation and which ones would not, but I didn't get the intention. It felt like you have chosen them randomly, maybe because I'm not a native speaker and thus, I don't have the knowledge to understand it, but with several typos spread here and there, I just can't decide.
Another thing that seems odd is the last two sentences. During the rest of the story, the pace is pretty fast, one sentence after the other, there is a sense of urgency and the last two sentences ends all this speed abruptly.
So I don't know how to rate it because I really disliked the story but I must recognize it was a really good try, and, aside from the two last sentences, the writting is pretty solid and consistent. I'll see about it once I've read the other stories.
So, if you strip away the framing device, we're left with a lot of exposition in second person. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it's definitely different, and a story that's almost entirely exposition is going to have to really excel if it wants to make an impression.
One way you try that is through the constant repetition of "You were there," the narrator's (very) slowly evolving tribute to the hero. For me, however, the repetition got tiresome after the fifth time or so. Since you repeat it 21 times across the entire story, that's a lot of time for me (and others, perhaps) to get annoyed with it.
I have to say the part I enjoyed most was the brief period where the narrator focused on his own actions -- his betrayal of the town. I like the conceit here, that the disaster described in the first paragraphs is a disaster that has happened before and will happen again, repeating forever until the hero manages to defeat the demons (or whatever) that are attacking the town. In that sense, the repetition is appropriate; however, just because something is appropriate doesn't mean it can't be annoying as well.
The end felt like it was rambling to me. Granted, the narrator was rambling, but just because a paragraph accurately represents a character doesn't make it enjoyable to read. I'm not convinced that the ending you chose – the hero recognizes the source of the recurring evil and acts to break the cycle – is presented in a meaningful way, since we never see what causes the hero to come to his realization and break the cycle. We only see the consequences of his realization.
One way you try that is through the constant repetition of "You were there," the narrator's (very) slowly evolving tribute to the hero. For me, however, the repetition got tiresome after the fifth time or so. Since you repeat it 21 times across the entire story, that's a lot of time for me (and others, perhaps) to get annoyed with it.
I have to say the part I enjoyed most was the brief period where the narrator focused on his own actions -- his betrayal of the town. I like the conceit here, that the disaster described in the first paragraphs is a disaster that has happened before and will happen again, repeating forever until the hero manages to defeat the demons (or whatever) that are attacking the town. In that sense, the repetition is appropriate; however, just because something is appropriate doesn't mean it can't be annoying as well.
The end felt like it was rambling to me. Granted, the narrator was rambling, but just because a paragraph accurately represents a character doesn't make it enjoyable to read. I'm not convinced that the ending you chose – the hero recognizes the source of the recurring evil and acts to break the cycle – is presented in a meaningful way, since we never see what causes the hero to come to his realization and break the cycle. We only see the consequences of his realization.
Interesting to see the division here on whether the repetition was a net positive for the story or not! Now I'm curious as to whether I'm just totally off the reservation, or whether it's a love-it-or-hate-it thing with a more even division. This is also a useful reminder that no one reader speaks for your audience — it's really helpful to see what everyone likes/dislikes, because the more universal a piece of feedback is, the more confident you can be about whether that thing is a problem or not.
>>Cold in Gardez
Thank you for pointing this out. I didn't say so in my review, but I felt the same — the twist of the narrator's betrayal and his madness-driven choice to summon the demons caught me by surprise, and I thought that was a cool place to take the story.
>>Cold in Gardez
I have to say the part I enjoyed most was the brief period where the narrator focused on his own actions -- his betrayal of the town. I like the conceit here, that the disaster described in the first paragraphs is a disaster that has happened before and will happen again, repeating forever until the hero manages to defeat the demons (or whatever) that are attacking the town.
Thank you for pointing this out. I didn't say so in my review, but I felt the same — the twist of the narrator's betrayal and his madness-driven choice to summon the demons caught me by surprise, and I thought that was a cool place to take the story.
Huh... Kinda feel in the minority for liking this as much as I did.
It may have something to do with me reading it in my phone during my breaks at work, but the repetition didn't bother me at all. Seeing it on a computer screen, though... Yeah, I can see how that can be tiring. Maybe have two or three paragraphs between reassertions of the "You were there" mantra instead of only one, that may help.
Still, I really liked the story, both characters felt engaging, and their dynamic pulled me in from the start. Some of the fluff could definitely be trimmed down, but as it stands right now, I think it's pretty good. For a moment I thought the "I" character was actually the darkness itself, seems I wasn't that far off the mark.
The ending could also use some polishing. I enjoyed how it slowly descended into a frenetic madness as "I" starts to die alongside "You", but it also leaves too many plot points hanging. I don't mind leaving some things unexplained, but we didn't get much in terms of closure about anything other than the relationship between the two characters.
I stand by what I say. I think the story is pretty good. A bit of work could make it great.
It may have something to do with me reading it in my phone during my breaks at work, but the repetition didn't bother me at all. Seeing it on a computer screen, though... Yeah, I can see how that can be tiring. Maybe have two or three paragraphs between reassertions of the "You were there" mantra instead of only one, that may help.
Still, I really liked the story, both characters felt engaging, and their dynamic pulled me in from the start. Some of the fluff could definitely be trimmed down, but as it stands right now, I think it's pretty good. For a moment I thought the "I" character was actually the darkness itself, seems I wasn't that far off the mark.
The ending could also use some polishing. I enjoyed how it slowly descended into a frenetic madness as "I" starts to die alongside "You", but it also leaves too many plot points hanging. I don't mind leaving some things unexplained, but we didn't get much in terms of closure about anything other than the relationship between the two characters.
I stand by what I say. I think the story is pretty good. A bit of work could make it great.
Blergh, second-person.
Sorry, Author, I just can't get behind this easily. While I support experimenting in the Writeoff, second-person is always going to be an extraordinarily hard sell for me.
The 'you you you' stuff was interesting structurally, at least. You did seem to be breaking the narrative into distinct parts with that, which was interesting. It was also neat to see it evolve, from 'you were there' to 'here' to 'I' and all that.
This story also does an admirable job of portraying someone who's obviously insane. That was pretty well done.
On the downside, a lot of what's going on here is really, really vague. We just get bare, broad strokes on a lot of what's going on here, and that makes it especially difficult for me to get a good handle on what's happening, alongside all the second-person stuff. Some concrete details would, I think, enhance this a lot.
On the upside, sticking to broad strokes does give this an excellent sense of scale. This is, obviously, a long time happening, and it's neat that you packed all that in.
I dunno. In the end, I like a fair amount of what this is trying to do, but I also feel like it's held back significantly by some of the design choices. It's pretty good work, but despite that, I really had trouble getting into it.
Sorry, Author, I just can't get behind this easily. While I support experimenting in the Writeoff, second-person is always going to be an extraordinarily hard sell for me.
The 'you you you' stuff was interesting structurally, at least. You did seem to be breaking the narrative into distinct parts with that, which was interesting. It was also neat to see it evolve, from 'you were there' to 'here' to 'I' and all that.
This story also does an admirable job of portraying someone who's obviously insane. That was pretty well done.
On the downside, a lot of what's going on here is really, really vague. We just get bare, broad strokes on a lot of what's going on here, and that makes it especially difficult for me to get a good handle on what's happening, alongside all the second-person stuff. Some concrete details would, I think, enhance this a lot.
On the upside, sticking to broad strokes does give this an excellent sense of scale. This is, obviously, a long time happening, and it's neat that you packed all that in.
I dunno. In the end, I like a fair amount of what this is trying to do, but I also feel like it's held back significantly by some of the design choices. It's pretty good work, but despite that, I really had trouble getting into it.
This left me with mixed feelings. I didn't care for the repetitious rhythm going on with it, which struck me as more distracting than driving. Maybe if it had been something slightly different every time. When it started, I was curious. About halfway through, it felt grinding, and I wanted nothing more than to see where you were going with this.
In the end, I feel the story took far too long to get to its point. The details about the failure and the migration were clear, but I couldn't grasp the point for the narrator him/herself, and so I spent the first half to 2/3 of the story more confused than anything. Kudos for trying to make something big out of the prompt. Conceptually, not bad at all. I just don't care for the delivery.
In the end, I feel the story took far too long to get to its point. The details about the failure and the migration were clear, but I couldn't grasp the point for the narrator him/herself, and so I spent the first half to 2/3 of the story more confused than anything. Kudos for trying to make something big out of the prompt. Conceptually, not bad at all. I just don't care for the delivery.
Ah, Drakengard fanfiction, eh. Nah, not really, but not that far off. Seems like we have quite a few experiments in form this round. Now, me, I don't hate second person. It would be more accurate to say I love second person; bring on yonder quests and VNs and our patron saint David Foster Wallace! But I'm not sure the use of second person actually adds much here that couldn't be accomplished in first or third. So, hm.
Even after some rereads, I'm confused as to how this story logistically works. Just who *is* this narrator, and how are they also present for all these events in the knight's life? The best psycho yandere stalker ever? Or are we not a human at all, and dealing with some sort of magical plague rat or something? Strange.
As everyone else is saying, I never got hooked into this and spent most of my time confused and skimming the piles of words. The repetition was okay to a point, but there's only so much I can take as a reader before I want something easier to read. >>Cold in Gardez expresses my sentiments well, in that the reveal and confrontation were the parts I could sink my teeth into among the seas.
How would I improve this? Increase clarity and cut it down. Consider using some names and giving specific details instead of a nearly historical overview. Figure out the core ideas you want to present, take out the editing axe and cut everything that doesn't directly accomplish them. Try and look at it from the perspective of a reader who might be coming in lukewarm, try your best to grab their interest and hold it.
Overall, not great but not bad, I got a nice mood from it when I could cut through the verbosity and am at least somewhat interested in knowing the answers to the questions of what happened. Thanks for writing!
Even after some rereads, I'm confused as to how this story logistically works. Just who *is* this narrator, and how are they also present for all these events in the knight's life? The best psycho yandere stalker ever? Or are we not a human at all, and dealing with some sort of magical plague rat or something? Strange.
As everyone else is saying, I never got hooked into this and spent most of my time confused and skimming the piles of words. The repetition was okay to a point, but there's only so much I can take as a reader before I want something easier to read. >>Cold in Gardez expresses my sentiments well, in that the reveal and confrontation were the parts I could sink my teeth into among the seas.
How would I improve this? Increase clarity and cut it down. Consider using some names and giving specific details instead of a nearly historical overview. Figure out the core ideas you want to present, take out the editing axe and cut everything that doesn't directly accomplish them. Try and look at it from the perspective of a reader who might be coming in lukewarm, try your best to grab their interest and hold it.
Overall, not great but not bad, I got a nice mood from it when I could cut through the verbosity and am at least somewhat interested in knowing the answers to the questions of what happened. Thanks for writing!