And thus begins Book III: The Quest! I'm excited to begin posting again and looking forward to writing Book III... I've got a lot of things planned and a lot of side-plots that will begin gearing up this book to prepare for the final climax in Book IV... Let's go.
Prologue: Forged from Fire
Date: Kornun 18th, 114 A.U
The pale elf walked down the metal catwalk over the raging flames beneath, metal pounding on metal as the steel was slowly forged out of the fires below for the parts needed to upgrade the Mothership into a higher model, able to do all that would be necessary in light of the hastening cataclysm that would shake the very foundations of Arquenia. Walking down metal stairs, the elf walked over toward the head foreman of this plant, who deftly saluted him as he saw the pale elf coming toward him.
“All hail, Watcher of Jaigran,” the foreman said, bowing his head. “I have been expecting you.”
“Aye,” the Watcher said coldly. “I have come for a report of all the progress that you have made over the last month.”
“We are well past the half-way point in preparing the upgrades for the Mothership,” the foreman said. “We’ve tested out our models in space quite profusely over that time. The air exchange unit still has some trouble adjusting to the vacuum of space, but we have it in near-working condition.”
“I see,” the Watcher said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “And the workers?”
“A few of the goblins tried to cause a revolt two weeks ago, but they were quickly put down,” the head foreman said. “There haven’t been any problems since then.”
“I see.” The Watcher was quiet for a few moments as the metal banging on metal continued behind him, sparks flying in the raging flames. “How durable are the models?”
“Excuse me?”
"How durable are the models?” the Watcher said. “Have you taken into account what would happen if there was a collision in space? Would the Mothership hold or not, and how extensive and lengthy would it be to fix it?”
“I-” the head foreman began, and the Watcher suddenly realized the answer to his question.
“You haven’t tested its durability?!”
“I never thought!” the foreman began.
“It is your job to think of these things—not mine!” the Watcher snapped. “Your lack of foresight could cost us lives. The life of the Emperor himself, as well as all of elven civilization is at risk here! It is your job to think of these things, not mine!”
“Forgive me, my lord,” the foreman said, falling on his knee. “I have failed in my duties and I beg for my life.”
“Get up,” the Watcher snapped. “I am in no mood for your pitiful groveling. You will do better next time or you will be thrown into the flames that you have stirred up. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The Watcher turned to go, his feet slowly climbing the metal stairs as he walked over the precipice of flames, gazing from side to side. How fierce were the raging flames. But it would be nothing like the flames that would purge the world of their enemies.
Question of the Week: What does the Watcher have planned?
Prologue: Forged from Fire
Date: Kornun 18th, 114 A.U
The pale elf walked down the metal catwalk over the raging flames beneath, metal pounding on metal as the steel was slowly forged out of the fires below for the parts needed to upgrade the Mothership into a higher model, able to do all that would be necessary in light of the hastening cataclysm that would shake the very foundations of Arquenia. Walking down metal stairs, the elf walked over toward the head foreman of this plant, who deftly saluted him as he saw the pale elf coming toward him.
“All hail, Watcher of Jaigran,” the foreman said, bowing his head. “I have been expecting you.”
“Aye,” the Watcher said coldly. “I have come for a report of all the progress that you have made over the last month.”
“We are well past the half-way point in preparing the upgrades for the Mothership,” the foreman said. “We’ve tested out our models in space quite profusely over that time. The air exchange unit still has some trouble adjusting to the vacuum of space, but we have it in near-working condition.”
“I see,” the Watcher said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “And the workers?”
“A few of the goblins tried to cause a revolt two weeks ago, but they were quickly put down,” the head foreman said. “There haven’t been any problems since then.”
“I see.” The Watcher was quiet for a few moments as the metal banging on metal continued behind him, sparks flying in the raging flames. “How durable are the models?”
“Excuse me?”
"How durable are the models?” the Watcher said. “Have you taken into account what would happen if there was a collision in space? Would the Mothership hold or not, and how extensive and lengthy would it be to fix it?”
“I-” the head foreman began, and the Watcher suddenly realized the answer to his question.
“You haven’t tested its durability?!”
“I never thought!” the foreman began.
“It is your job to think of these things—not mine!” the Watcher snapped. “Your lack of foresight could cost us lives. The life of the Emperor himself, as well as all of elven civilization is at risk here! It is your job to think of these things, not mine!”
“Forgive me, my lord,” the foreman said, falling on his knee. “I have failed in my duties and I beg for my life.”
“Get up,” the Watcher snapped. “I am in no mood for your pitiful groveling. You will do better next time or you will be thrown into the flames that you have stirred up. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The Watcher turned to go, his feet slowly climbing the metal stairs as he walked over the precipice of flames, gazing from side to side. How fierce were the raging flames. But it would be nothing like the flames that would purge the world of their enemies.
Question of the Week: What does the Watcher have planned?
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