Map Making Created 13 years ago2011-08-02 21:35:37 UTC by Dimbeak Dimbeak

Created 13 years ago2011-08-02 21:35:37 UTC by Dimbeak Dimbeak

Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 21:38:32 UTC Post #297284
I need help to make a map. Not the kind of map for a game, but I'm looking for anything that can help me make a map for the beginning of my novel. I can't find anything anywhere. If you want, here's Chapter 1 of my novel. (Please critize if you must, and help me get some ideas for the storyline. I'm working on Chapter III currently.)

Chapter I:
The Storm

It was a cold and dark night. For the dragon season was over, thank goodness, and they returned to their rest in Mt. Firestrike, just north of Calla, in which I rested in a small inn. The walls were made of logs and a variety of creative forms of lumber, which were probably harvested at the southern forest, just to the east of Old Hill.

I was sitting on my bed, wearing my normal clothes: a worn tunic, some elvish-crafted shoes, and my leather leggings I had collected when I had visited Mihor. I fished around in my backpack finding my small dagger which I had found in the mines of Mt. Firestrike, a loaf of bread, and a few ancient pots which I sold. Under my bed I had hidden my large sword, made in elvish lands. They had told stories of my sword, claiming that it belonged to the legendary dwarves, which lived hundreds of years ago.

I was a nomadic trader, I usually collected clay pots and sold them to those who were interested in such ancient items. I was planning on going to Old Hill that day, but I feared that the storm would continue at morning. If I were to step out of the inn (which would be foolish to do), I would most likely be blown out of Calla and struck by the vigorous lightning which followed the wet drops of rain which smalled themselves against the ground.
I found my way to the stairs and walked to the top floor, where they served several delicious foods. After looking around at their choices for a bit, I looked around my pockets and in my backpack for any money. Sadly, I had only two gold pieces, which I was going to use in case I had to spend another day at the inn. However, the strong aroma from the fresh pork caused me to buy it.

I sat at a large table where several other people ate other foods sold and drank the finest bead. I had collected water in a canteen, so I drank from it during my meal. Eventually, I finished my meal and returned to my room where I slept. With the sound of booming thunder outside, it was difficult to fall asleep.

I awoke at noon to the sound of more rain and thunder. I slowly stumbled to the bottom of the inn where I prepared to leave. Since I hadn’t enough money to buy another room, I decided to wait a bit in the lobby. When the rain seemed to lighten, I decided it was time to leave. I passed by several merchants where I traded a few of my pots for a leather cap and two apples.
Calla was known for its great wooden tower, in which those rich and those in the government rested. At the bottom was a small cafeteria, where they served very expensive food. To get to the other levels, you would have to use their complicated pulley system, where a platform would rise to whatever level you wish.

I took comfort at the bottom of the tower when the rain became harder and the thunder became louder. I pondered over leaving for a while and decided that if I were ever to reach Chillgos by nightfall, I would have to leave now, no matter what weather may be in my way. After a bit of walking, I left the great the village of Calla and followed the road. I was a kilometer or so from Old Hill, where the shack of Mistress Marlene was built.

I traveled on the western rode, and eventually came upon the Bantion canal. There was usually a ferry to cross it, but the river was flooding. I hadn’t a clue how to cross it. The Bantion canal comes from all the way to Bantion (which is on the eastern side of the continent) to the west of Mt. Firestrike, where it emptied into the ocean.

I looked around and tried to figure out how to cross the river without my items getting wet, but it seemed impossible. I suddenly heard the sound of arguing between two heavy voices. Two men approached me with a small canoe.

“Greetings,” I said as I spotted the canoe they were carrying. “Are you planning on crossing this of rivers?”

“Hello, fellow traveler,” one of the men replied. “Although it may seem dangerous, my brother and I wish to cross this river, one way or another.”

“You cannot possibly cross it on that canoe. Even the ferry refuses to cross it, for this is a massive flood.”

“That is what I am trying to tell him!” exclaimed the other man. “We should wait a while.”

“But I cannot return to Calla! We have come too far, and I must speak with Mistress Marlene!” replied the other man.

They barked at each other as they dropped their canoe. Their screaming was louder than the thunder. I soon noticed that they didn’t pay the slightest of attention to me, so I snuck behind them and stole their canoe. I then placed into the river and rode it across. It was very difficult, but I managed to cross it without getting any of my supplies wet.

When the two brothers had finished their argument, they looked around themselves with a confused expression on their faces. They spotted me through the mists and fogs on the other side of the river and realized what happened. They began to shout very violent and offensive things at me, but I payed no attention and continued walking, leaving the canoe on the road.

After a while of walking, I made it to Old Hill. Mistress Marlene was inside her cabin making the finest of soups. I knocked on the door of her cabin, to be greeted my Mistress Marlene: an old and wrinkled crone.

“Greetings, Mistress Marlene,” I said.

“Welcome, young man,” she replied.

“Could I please take shelter in your home?” I beckoned. “I have traveled from Calla and found much difficulty crossing the Bantion canal. I wish not for my supplies could get wet, and I ask you of this: may I stay in your humble cabin?”

“Why, certainly,” she said with a small grin on her face. “I was just making dinner, would you like to join me?”

“Of course,” I answered with a larger grin on my face. “I barely get a chance to feast while walking around and trading a few of my pots.”

I entered her small cabin. It was made out of cheap lumber, but it managed to keep rain out. She had a few torches on the inside, stains all over the walls, a small stove, and a wooden table. To me, it seemed a cozy little home.

“Now,” she said to me as she handed me a bowl of soup. “You said that you trade pots?”

“Yes, I do,” I answered. “The finest pots from the dragon years, which I trade for food, clothes, accessories, and gold.”

“I am a great fan of pottery,” she said as I buried my face into her delicious soup. “And I collect much food. Could I possibly trade a recipe or so for one of your finest pots?”

I lifted my head out of my bowl. “Of course. Allow me to present my pots.”
I reached into my backpack and got out three different pots. One was red, one was blue, and one was too aged to still have a color. She carefully examined the pots and got into her stove. She pulled out a carrot, a recipe for one of her soups, and cooked lamb.

“I will trade you these items for the red pot,” she said as she placed the carrot, the recipe, and the cooked lamb into a bag.

“Deal,” I said as I swiped the bag from her. She proceeded to take the red pot and further examine it.

A while of silence passed through the cabin. While I stuffed my face with soup, she placed small antiques and items into the pot. Suddenly, she looked over to me. “Where are you headed?”

“Chillgos,” I answered. “I am hoping I could get more business there, for it is filled with other nomads and traders. My items are rare and one-of-a-kind.”

“Good luck with that,” Marlene replied. Suddenly, she gasped. “I forgot about Gilrin and Golrin! They were supposed to meet me there!”
“Gilrin and Golrin?” I asked.

“Yes, they are twin brothers. They were coming all the way from Bantion to come here . . . they must have gotten stuck in the middle of the storm. I was hoping they could make it.”

My mind went blank. Were Gilrin and Golrin the two men I stole the canoe from? I thought. I have to leave, they could end up at Mistress Marlene’s doorstep any second, considering if they passed the river. I then looked up at Marlene. “I think it’s time for me to go. When night falls, the storm is going to tear apart any person who is foolish enough to stand out in the open.”

Mistress Marlene and I said our farewells and I was out the door. After being in her warm home, I felt an extreme cold from the wind and rain, and longed to be in her cabin once more by the pleasant heat of her stove. However, I continued on the eastern rode. Eventually, I got hungry, so I reached into my backpack and pulled out one of the apples. I feasted on it until I reached Chillgos.

Chillgos was a great village, which was known for its protection. A large stone wall surrounded Chillgos, leaving a gate big enough for a medium-sized horse. On top of the stone wall were many archers and guards which watched over the world for barbarians and other threats. In case of danger, the first guard to spot the threat would shout “Alert! The sanctuary of Chillgos is at risk!”

This would follow among all other guards, archers, knights, and eventually the townspeople. With this system, they were prepared incase anything were to threaten Chillgos. It was with this system how they were able to survive the goblin wars and the several barbaric raids of those of Mihor.

As I passed through the gate, I saw everything in the amazing village: the large walls, the royal castle, and all the small tents and huts which made the village a village. The merchants and smiths had closed their shops due to damage caused by the storm. I looked through the huts and tents to see a small inn. I entered the inn as I proceeded to remove my leather cap. The innkeeper, whom had been talking to a different client, turned over to me. “Hello sir, welcome to the inn. Would you like one of our fine rooms?”
“How much is the fee?” I asked the innkeeper.

“One gold piece,” she answered. I looked around in my belongings to try and find a gold piece, but failed. I then scoped the floor in search for a gold piece. Near the innkeeper, I found an aged gold piece on the floor. I picked it up and handed it to the innkeeper.

She then wrote a few words on a piece of paper she had and exclaimed “Welcome to the inn! Stay in whatever room you like!”

Sadly, there were but two rooms in the inn, and neither of them were feasting areas. I randomly picked a room and sat on the bed. I reached my hand into my backpack and pulled out my other apple I had collected. I proceeded to eat it while I also drank from my canteen. I then placed my head on the pillow and slept.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of thunder and rain. The rain had started to fall harder and the thunder and lightning were more frequent. I stretched out my arms in a large yawm and grabbed a loaf of bread from my bag. I ate a part of it and had some more water from my canteen.

I emerged from my room to see that the innkeeper was not at her position. I walked myself out of the inn and over to a merchant’s food stand next door. The food stand was run by a poor elderly woman whose husband did all of the farming. She sold many exquisite fruits and vegetables. I picked out a watermelon and a bit of corn, which I exchanged with my blue pot.

I wandered around the village for a while, as I was constantly pounded by rain. The wind made me occasionally lose my balance, but I managed. I needed to sell my last pot so I would have enough gold to stay a few more days at the inn. I was very tired of the storm, and I had determined that the Bantion canal was too dangerous to cross back into Calla.

Eventually, I came across another nomadic trader. He was selling different spices and delicious soups.

“Hello, sir,” I said to him. “Would you be interested in selling a few of your spices for an ancient relic?”

“Certainly,” he said with a small grin on his face. He reached into a bag and pulled out a small cup. Word were carved on the side of it: “Old Dragon”.
I reached into my backpack and pulled out the last pot I had. The other man stared at it for a long time as he pondered wether or not to trade. After a few minutes of consideration, he shouted out “I will trade!” We traded.

Suddenly, a wild horse began to run free through the streets. Quickly, I pushed the other trader off of the road and jumped off the opposite side. It seemed that the storm had destroyed the stable, letting all of the animals free. The other trader eventually arose back onto the street, as did I.

“Thank you!” exclaimed the other trader. “What is your name?”

“Damogan of Calla,” I announced. “And what title do you go by?”

“I am known as Johan of Bantion,” answered the other trader.

Jahon wore the same clothes every day, much like me. He wore a large red cloak that covered most of his body. Under the cloak he wore a dirt-covered shirt, leather leggings, and sandals. He also wore a small handbag over his shoulder, where he kept his gold and spices. His face was anything but grim and held a small goatee.

“What parts of the world have you been to?” I asked Johan. “For I know many popular areas where people would buy your items.”

We began to walk down the street as we chatted about locations, things people really enjoy purchasing, and a bit about heirs to the throne, such as King Basa’s son, Darian. We passed by a group of guards which peered over at the pot I had sold to Johan. The guard looked at the pot as if he recognized it and quickly shouted out “I have found the stolen artifact! These two traders have stolen the king’s prize possession!”

Johan and I looked back at the guard who was shouting at us. Quickly, we hastily ran towards the exit, until a group of pikemen lined up to stop us. We paused only to see that the pikemen were marching forward. Several archers looked from the walls and began to aim their crossbows and longbows. I released my elvish sword–of which I had been concealing under my cloak–and prepared for battle.

The pikemen stopped to aim, and the archers began to fire. Quickly, we ran into the nearest hut. Since the walls were not strongly reinforced, I was able to slice my way through the other side. Johan and I quickly continued to run out of Chillgos, until we looked back to see that several warriors were chasing us. The gates were but a few meters away, until they quickly shut.
I led Johan onto a walkway that lead to the top of the walls. From there, we jumped off the edge of the wall while carefully attempted to slide down, using bricks that stuck out of the wall to our advantage. We managed to make it to the bottom without hurting ourselves or our equipment. Quickly, we ran until we came upon a small hill. We hid at the base of the hill at an area where we can look at Chillgos without any guards seeing us.

They had released several soldiers to parade through the streets. We quickly continued on the way to Old Hill, hoping that nobody would catch us. Outside the walls, the wind of the storm became much harder to maneuver through. Since the soldiers were wearing heavy metal armor, they continuously fell over, landing in large puddles of mud. When we made it to Old Hill, we bursted through the door of Mistress Marlene’s cabin.

“Mistress Marlene!” I shouted. “We are in need of refuge. I am not sure why, but Chillgos has sent all of its guards to find me.”

“Well,” she replied. “I do have a basement you can hide in. I usually keep the door locked, I just have to find the key.”

She took a bit to find the key, for it was hidden on top of her fireplace. She took it from the fireplace (when she found it) and handed it to me. Quickly, Johan and I ran outside and entered the basement from the small doorway. We locked it shut and checked to make sure it wouldn’t open.

On the continent of Mekal, where I was hidden, every town worked together in one system of government. The kings dealt only in their local offairs, but the people who had power over every city were the Elite Two. They lived in an island just off the coast of Bantion, where they made ecenomc decisions over taxes, security, and location. They also decide if they should build extra cities for trade, and if they should put a public service of horseback riding.

On that very day we hid in the shed of Mistress Marlene, the Elite Two met with the king of Mihor, King Sauni, to discuss wether or not they shall go to war. The villages on Mekal had been sending soldiers and creating colonies near the realm of Mihor, which is on Hyne.

At the meeting, Mihor soldiers surrounded the Elite Two and vigorously murdered them. Once the news got to Mekal, the government fell apart. It was a catastrophe, for every village had to act independently and relied on only themselves. To my advantage, the Chillgos soldiers which were following me withdrew to help their village. Eventually, Mistress Marlene opened the door to the basement with her spare key.

“Gentlemen,” she announced. “The Chillgos soldiers are no longer chasing you.”

“Why?” I begged. “I infer that the pot I had sold Johan was stolen from King Basa. For what reason would they cease following us?”

“I’m not sure, but I saw a group of Mihor warboats come to the southern shore, just below Old Hill. I believe a war will soon start.”

“We must flee!” blurted Johan. “If that is so, we must migrate to Mihor!”
Dimbeak DimbeakRotten Bastard
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 21:42:46 UTC Post #297285
TL;DR
Rimrook RimrookSince 2003
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 21:55:53 UTC Post #297286
Sorry, I had to stop reading. Your loose sense of grammar made it a chore rather than something enjoyable.
Archie ArchieGoodbye Moonmen
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 22:15:50 UTC Post #297287
Don't be so harsh, he's 12. At that age I tried to write and failed miserably. I only wrote one paragraph.

What exactly is it that you need a map for, Dimbark?
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 22:23:08 UTC Post #297288
What exactly is it that you need a map for, Dimbark?
I mostly want it so that the reader could know what the world and environment the characters are going through.

In books like The Hobbit, and Game of Thrones, they have a map at the beginning showing the world. I want a map like this so that my story has more of an image-able world.

Also, if you want, you can read Chapter II.

[i]Chapter II:
The Small Trip

“It is a dangerous way to Mihor,” shuddered Mistress Marlene. “But, why must you leave? The war should center only around Bantion, and I doubt they will hurt civilians.”
“Those in Mihor are cruel,” replied Johan. “They will kill anybody who is not in their kingdom. Nobody in Mekal could defeat the great Mihorian army! Not even the legendary dwarves of the south!”
I slightly nodded in agreement. “Come into my cabin,” whispered Mistress Marlene as she slowly stumbled to the cabin door. We entered the cabin, where Johan and I centered around the fire; Mistress Marlene’s basement was very cold. Silently, Mistress Marlene went into one of her cabinets and took out two loaves of bread and one container with water.
“I wish I could come with you,” said Mistress Marlene. “But all I can do is help you for the voyage.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Mistress Marlene. We will find any ship at the harbor south of Calla, hopefully there aren’t any ships from Mihor centering around that area.”
“That sounds like a smart route,” replied Mistress Marlene. “I hope you will be safe.”
Mistress Marlene escorted us out of the cabin and said one last thing: “If you want to enter Mihor you have to follow their tax laws and go through their rituals. Please, do whatever they say.”
I nodded and departed with Johan. After a bit of walking, we soon came across the Bantion canal. Luckily, the storm had softened, which allowed people to cross the canal on the ferry. The ferry ride was only one gold piece, but Johan had saved thirteen for any purposes he would need. We crossed the ferry very quickly, as we continued on our way to Calla.
The walk took a very long time, considering that neither of us talked. I eventually took out one of the loaves of bread Mistress Marlene gave us and ate half of it. I then passed it over to Johan, whom ate the rest of it. By noon, we reached Calla, where we rested a bit.
We waited for a while at the bottom of the tower, and soon noticed that the rain had stopped. From there, we went over to the stable to see if we could purchase a horse. Sadly, it was seventeen gold pieces, which was way too expensive for us. We began our walk south, which we knew would be a very long walk.
On our way, we passed through unrecognized plains and marshes, which we did not enjoy. In the marshes, our feet became covered in mud and dirt. Odd creatures passed through many of the areas, forcing us to go to drier areas. We also got irritated by several bugs that decided that we would be a delicious dinner.
It seemed that Johan suffered the most. He was constantly smacking himself in a large effort to kill the bugs around him. He repeatedly sighed throughout the swamp areas, and occasionally freaked out when he believed he spotted a crocodile. He would seem brave when he says something, but looks as if he was going to wet his pants when he actually does it.
We set up camp by a small tree, a few meters away from the actual marshland area. The bugs were still as annoying. However, since we managed to build a small shelter by the tree, a few ignored us. We ate the last of our bread that night, and had a few gulps of water from the container we had been given. We were slowly running out of resources, and we were yet to reach the halfway point of our journey.

Neither of us managed to sleep that night. With the sounds of the buzzing bugs, the crocodiles playing around, and the whimpers from Johan, we couldn’t manage a single snore. As morning rose, we slumped up with a various amount of circles under our eyes. We stumbled from our small camp site and pushed our legs to walk south.
We were both hungry, but we decided that we should save it until it seemed to be noon. Eventually, we came across a small cave. We saw several scratch marks all over the walls. As I looked around, I saw a bit of ash, a few arrows, and a dropped dagger. Johan took the dagger, since he had nothing to protect himself, and we continued on our way to the southern areas of Melak.
At one point, Johan fell down and instantly fell asleep. Rather than wake him up from his peaceful slumber, I decided to pick him up and carry him like a small child. During the walk, I too fell asleep.
As hours passed, a small group of knights and settlers from Bantion came across us on their journey to map out the entire region of Melak to use in the upcoming war. They were riding two wagons which were guided by medium-sized oxen. The knights were the first to drop down from the wagon, and after a bit of examination, they determined that we had fallen asleep.
“Look at there legs!” shouted one of the settlers from the wagon. “They’re scorched with sweat and soaked in clay!”
“One of them also has a very large sword!” shouted back one of the knights. “They are either thieves or traders!”
One of the knights grabbed a big stick from a nearby tree and poked me with a stick. I slowly awoke from my deep slumber with no idea what was going on. When I had seen that we were stumbled upon by knights, I became slightly worried and confused, not knowing wether or not they were from Bantion or Mihor.
“What are you doing?” asked the knight.
I’m yawned a bit before I answered. “We’re on our way to the southern shore to catch a boat ride.”
“A boat ride?” asked one of the knights. “Are you fleeing the continent?”
I then realized that if I said that I was headed to Mihor–the army that knight was oposing–he would most likely behead me. I thought a bit in my head and lied. “We missed the Bantion canal ferry and we’re hoping we could get a ride there. We fell asleep, for we could not sleep in the marshlands.”
The knight stared at me for a bit. There was a large amount of silence, other than the abnoctious snoring coming from Johan.
“Very well,” the knight said. “We are heading in the same direction as you, would you like to join us?”
“Allow me to talk over this with my colleague,” I said as I swiped the stick from the knight and vigorously poked Johan. He awoke with a slight scream, and said in a yawn, “What happened?”
“These knights and settlers are willing to take us to the southern shore,” I explained to Johan. “Good!” exclaimed Johan. “We need a ride to Mi–,” I covered Johan’s mouth before he
could finish the word Mihor.
“We can’t tell them we’re going to Mihor,” I whispered to Johan. “Remember? That’s who these people are fighting against.”
Johan slightly nodded with one eye still asleep. I escorted him to the wagon where he fell back into his slumber. I reached into Johan’s bag and took a mild spice, since we were out of fresh food. The wagon, since it had so many people in it, went by very slow. We also went past very odd odors as we became closer to the center of the main marshlands.
As hours passed by, I eventually was able to see the ocean in the horizon. I nudged Johan a bit to wake him up, which only caused his body to shift and lean onto one of the settlers. What I found was very odd was that the settler didn’t mind. In fact, he had a bit of a grin on his face.
Eventually, the wagon stopped at the shore. On the sand, the oxen had a bit of a hard time walking. It was hard for them to keep a firm stance. I lifted Johan over my shoulder and carried him out of the wagon. The knights and I said our farewells as I followed the shore until I found the Water-Cabin.
The Water-Cabin was a small store that run by one person: Kyle of Mihor. He wore the richest of clothing, for he made millions of gold pieces by working for no village, but for himself. He offered ship rides to anywhere in the world, which were very cheap. He was a very popular man, although he seemed very stubborn.
I came upon the water cabin where I saw his large ship: Saint Korgan, a ship Kyle’s father had made for him before he passed away. When I came upon the Water-Cabin, I gazed in astonishment at the large ship. Even though Kyle had no crew whatsoever, he was a very good captain.
I was greeted by Kyle soon after I spotted the ship. I dropped Johan to the ground, causing him to wake up. He stumbled around a bit in a small circle and looked for spices in his bag.
“What do you folk need?” asked Kyle. “A ride out of the continent? Over to Bantion?”
“We want to escape the war,” I answered. “Take us to Mihor where we will be safe.”
Kyle pointed over to a small sign he had carved out. I examined it closely and deciphered it aloud: “Rides out to Hyne are three gold pieces more than the regular price of two gold pieces.” I thought about this for a bit. “Five gold pieces!? That’s outrageous!”
“War’s coming any minute now,” said Kyle. “It’s my advantage to make a better profit. I’ve had more customers than ever before! Besides, don’t you know how hard it is to get people through Mihor’s defenses? I heard they’ve been starting up blockades.”
It seemed that Johan was a few seconds behind. “Five gold pieces?” he quietly muttered. “That’s . . . that’s not good . . .” I slapped Johan to wake him up a bit. It worked.
I reached into my bag and payed Kyle with the appropriate fare, leaving us with seven gold pieces. He led us over to Saint Korgan and guided us to the hollow inside of the ship. Around a small area, which was supposed to be our area, we found a small chest, a bunk bed, and a small window which allowed us to see what was underwater.
The inside of the ship was very dark, for the only light in the entire area was two torches. Several torches had been set up, but the flames were extinguished by water which seeped into the room. The water also caused the floor to be very wet and mucky. Thankfully, the bunk bed was clean.
Johan, who was still a bit tired, quickly raced onto the top bunk bed and covered himself in a blanket which had been slobily tossed by Kyle earlier. I decided a nap would feel good, so I slumped over to the bottom bed and fell asleep. It took a bit to toss and turn, but I eventually fell completely asleep.
During my slumber, the ship tossed and turned. It went through a few intense waves, and afternoon quickly turned to night. At one point, something large and metal scraped into the side of the ship.
Hearing the sound of metal scraping and wood falling apart, I awoke to think a second. I pondered what might be happening and decided that I should talk to Kyle.
When I listened closely, I heard several pounds at the top of the ship. Along with that, I heard very loud stomps, footsteps, and even a few blows. I slowly creeped from my bed, aghast. I tip-toed over to the stairway which connected the inside to the outside. From there, I climbed up the stairs like a spider and managed to see what was happening on the deck.
It was the first time I saw Mihorian armor. It was pure black, nothing but black. The armor formed a large barrier around the soldiers, covering their feet with a small curve and covering their head with a small opening for their eyes. They had a few symbols on their suits, which represented blood shed. They seemed to be interrogating Kyle, from what I saw and heard.
“Where are you headed!?” one of the knights shouted at Kyle. “You’re very close to Mihorian waters, now aren’t you?”
Kyle stuttered a bit before answering. “I . . . I want to live among those in Mihor.”
“Really?” asked the Mihorian knight as he shoved Kyle a bit. “Then why is this a cargo ship? I think you’re bringing people to overthrow the government. Too bad, we patrol these waters.”
I’m not sure if I saw it or not, but I think a tear came from the left eye of Kyle. “I assure you . . .” stuttered Kyle. “It’s just . . . me . . . and I have no harmful weapons.”
“Well, then,” the Mihorian knight said. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if we burned the ship and sank it into the waters. We will keep you in our ‘guest room’ on our ship.”
I quickly ran back down to the bunk beds, not caring how much sound my footsteps made. I rapidly shook Johan awake, to see that he was awake. He started to talk to me, “I heard everything they said. We need to sneak onto that Mihorian ship.”
“That will be difficult,” I said. “I’m not sure how we’re going to do it, but we need to get off of this ship quickly.”
Johan managed himself out of his bed and ran up to the stairs with me. The Mihorian knights were preparing to burn the ship with their torches. We ran quickly to a mast, where we hid. When the ship began to catch fire and the large metal Mihorian ship began to depart, we ran over to close to the flames, hoping we weren’t seen.
From there, we took a leap of faith. The ship was a meter away, and I ended up dangling with one hand and holding Johan with the other. I lifted him up to the ship, and he soon began to lift me up. On the middle of the ship was a small wooden house, which was where the captain controlled the ship. We hid behind that wooden house at the end of the ship. We were happy to see that the ship was passing through Mihorian waters.
We knew that the back of the small house was too vulnerable, so we creeped over to the side and hid in a small hatch in which several loads of gold were hidden. I decided to grab a handful of gold, which I knew would help me with Mihor’s tax laws. Suddenly, somebody started to walk over the hatch. We hid deeper into the room behind a pile of gold. Two men entered the hatch and looked around.
“Look at all of this loot,” I heard somebody say in a smug voice. “In Chillgos, anybody can get a swipe of their treasury. Rumor says that’s where the Elite Two rested, right in the realm where King Basa lived.”
The two people walked deeper into the hatch and continued talking. “Don’t get cocky,” the second person said. “I heard that a group of thieves stole the king’s royal relics and sold them off to a couple of people. The kingdom will soon be on red alert. Trust me.”
I then realized something and whispered it to Johan. “I purchased that pot I gave you from a group of off people. I think that’s why those guards chased us from Chillgos.”
“It doesn’t matter,” whispered back Johan. “The walls of Chillgos are soon to fall, if you ask me.”
“I doubt our armies can make it through their walls,” we heard from the other side of the pile.
“Well, maybe not,” Johan whispered to me.
The two people who were in the room with us eventually left, giving Johan and I a sigh of relief. Eventually, we hear the captain shouting, “We’re now on the shore of Mihor! All knights are free to retire for tonight while the midnight patrol is boarding!”
That was our chance. We quickly came from the hatch and jumped into the water before anybody was able to see us. From there, we swam to the shore and rested for a bit. Since we had no identification to show that we were citizens, we had to go through their citizenship rituals. We walked up from the shore to see the large gate in which the city of Mihor was entered. We talked to a knight who was in a small booth.
“We would like to gain our citizenship,” I told the knight.
“How did you get here?” asked the knight.
“That is none of your business,” I answered the knight. “I will go through whatever rituals I need to.”

Meanwhile . . .
He shook as a wad of hair was ripped from his head. He covered the area of pain as he grunted, tightening his fists. Quickly, he drew out his sword to the hair dresser who had made such a mistake.
“For what has possessed you to dismantle my beautiful hair!?” he cried. He was Commander Isaac of the Mihorian army. His fleet of battleships where headed for Mekal, where they planned to first burn the village of Bantion.
“I'm sorry, commander,” apologized the hair dresser. “The waves must have shaken the ship.”
Commander Isaac rose to his feet and stormed away. His beautiful black hair had been ripped, causing it to look uneven. He looked down at his metal armor, giving the Mihorian symbol, which looked like a  fire sliced in half. He always had his sword ready with him, in it's leather sheath as he held it's handle.
He took a spiral staircase to the top of the ship, where his troops where preparing for battle. The blazing sun showed that is was morning, and the ship was to make landfall at night. This gave the troops the perfect advantage, for the people of Bantion would not be expecting an attack and would be asleep.
Commander Isaac walked to the tip of the ship and looked out at the waves as he thought. These fools of Bantion. Their eventual downfall was certain from the very start. In fact, I should hang every Mihorian knight that does not kill at least twenty civilians. This will let the people of Mekal know of our terror.
Suddenly, a troop ran up to him, interrupting his thought. “Sir,” said the troop. “Our battleship has hit a group of small canoes. They seem to have been inbound from Mihor, but these  people seem to be heading to a city in Mekal. Would you like to speak with them?”
“Certainly,” answered Commander Isaac.
Commander Isaac was led to the bottom of the ship, where he saw several people tied to wooden posts. The posts where made from their own canoes. One of the people tied up was Kyle. Commander Isaac was able to tell he was the leader of the operation, for he had encountered Kyle before.
“Well, well, well,” said Commander Isaac. “Who do we have here? If it isn't our old friend  Kyle, moving the ridiculously helpless people of Mekal over to our grand city of Mihor. Please, do tell me why I have found you near my battleship?”
Kyle waited a few seconds before saying anything, “I had sent two people over to Mihor, but a ship had taken me. I don't know what happened to those two people, but I knew I had to leave you heathens when they had burned my ship. So, I was able to release a few prisoners after stealing a guard's keys, and we managed to escape in what seemed to be canoes.”
“Fascinating,” replied Commander Isaac. “Well, you understand that I cannot kill you. But can the same be said for your friends?”
Kyle gulped.
“Guards!” Commander Isaac shouted. “Tie up these good-for-nothings mouths, arms, legs, and throw them into the ocean to drown! But not Kyle . . . we have some catching up to do.”
The guards tied up their hands and mouths, and quickly carried the poles up the stairs to the top of the ship, where Kyle was able to hear them splashing against the ocean.
“So, my frie--” Commander Isaac stopped. The ship had shaken once more. Commander Isaac quickly stormed to the top of the ship.
“What is happening here!?” he shouted.
Commander Isaac looked around to see that not a single knight was on the ship. Suddenly, the ship made another large bump. This caused Commander Isaac to fall off the side of the ship, noticing something large and unexpected. One of the legendary sea-dragons which swam in the deepest of waters.
The sea-dragons had existed before humans did, they were believed to have shaped the oceans when the land was nothing but large hills. When the humans came into existence, the sea-dragons ran off into the seas they have made, and were believed to have all died.
Dimbeak DimbeakRotten Bastard
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 22:58:32 UTC Post #297290
Use Gimp or Photoshop to make one. There is a fuck-ton of tutorials online.
monster_urby monster_urbyGoldsourcerer
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 23:03:53 UTC Post #297291
I can never figure any of that out. It would be easier if there was some online program you could create it with easily from a list of prefabbed materials.
Dimbeak DimbeakRotten Bastard
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 23:43:30 UTC Post #297293
In books like The Hobbit, and Game of Thrones, they have a map at the beginning showing the world. I want a map like this so that my story has more of an image-able world.
That's because it would be confusing to readers otherwise. Also, these are made before they commence writing, because it's common knowledge among fantasy authors that if you don't write to a map, you'll never be able to make sense of the result enough to make one later. Try making a simple one at first, that shows where everything is, but may not be as detailed as the ones in published novels.

Also, I'm not usually a fan of the first-person narrative style. There are one or two authors who can, IMO, pull it off well (Conan Doyle, John Marsden in the Tomorrow series) and they're always in the style of a journal or diary.
Also, I'd recommend against publishing your first efforts. Trust me from experience, it's always shit. Refine your skills before you release anything. That said, It's nice to see you're trying your hand at writing, and fantasy at that, a genre that requires a thick plotline and a rich world to pull off. Also, have you read Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time series? If not, I strongly encourage you to pick up The Eye of the World at your local bookstore. I can also pretty much guarantee that by the time you're ready to read the final book (Book 14) it'll be finished.
(But mostly by Brian Sanderson, because Robert Jordan is deceased. Sanderson's been doing a good job in his stead, though)
Notewell NotewellGIASFELFEBREHBER
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-02 23:47:08 UTC Post #297294
Most of my inspiration is from Neil Gaiman and Tolkien. My two favorite writers.
Dimbeak DimbeakRotten Bastard
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 00:36:19 UTC Post #297296
You know you need to be more clear when you say map on a LEVEL MAPPING site, because even though you said "not for a game" I was lost. Anyway,

Don't use "I" so much. You have to use the pronoun often I know, but PLEASE, try to cut down on it, it's annoying, here's an example on how to do this -

"I wanted to know I could do this." could be "The only way to satisfy me would be to have the knowledge that I did not require any help."

These are drastically different sentences, but they communicate the same message, but the latter does it in such a manner that is more capitivating.

Also Dimbark please learn to use commas properly, they can't just be sprinkled everywhere. There are certain times they can be used, not just for a pause and such.

Keep in the same tense, you seem to switch from past to present erradically, by the looks of it I can tell you want past tense, revise your essay.

As for your figuritive language, there is none. This leaves your writing bland, very bland.
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 05:32:05 UTC Post #297298
Sorry, I had to stop reading. Your loose sense of grammar made it a chore rather than something enjoyable.
Don't be so harsh, he's 12. At that age I tried to write and failed miserably. I only wrote one paragraph.
I didn't read too much but if Dimbark's writing isn't good, and he is a native english speaker, then what about somebody like me? Yes, he is 12, but he is a native english speaker.

Now I am scared to write anything :.
Striker StrikerI forgot to check the oil pressure
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 05:51:16 UTC Post #297299
Yes, he is 12, but he is a native english speaker.
12 year old's don't have the vast vocabulary that somebody over 12 has gained over the span of their lifetime, nor are they as far education wise as somebody older, speaking English natively is irrelevant.
Crollo CrolloTrollo
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 08:08:18 UTC Post #297300
Ah! Das ist gut! Can Ich write mein book now then? ja?
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 08:27:27 UTC Post #297301
Seeing how he wants to do lots of stuff, we should really help him when we can.
Stojke StojkeUnreal
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 10:31:39 UTC Post #297305
Dimbark, do you mean like this:
User posted image
?

If You like Tolkien, I think you would really enjoy the Sword Of Truth series by Terry Goodkind.
Captain Terror Captain Terrorwhen a man loves a woman
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 11:05:52 UTC Post #297306
Honest critisicm?
The very first sentence reeks of uncreativity. The moment I read Mt. Firestrike, my mind cringed. By the time I was finished reading the first paragraph, it was pretty obvious you're more or less trying to cover up the lack of detail with a plethora of locations (intentionally or not). I got to the word "elvish-crafted" and I stopped reading.

Seriously, the whole point of fantasy novels is that it uses the imagination of the reader to intriege the reader. From the impression I get from the first two paragrahs, yours was going to be a recycling of any other damn fantasy book with elves and such.

So I think I fitting quote for me: "Can't you tell this story is not gripping me? I am in a state of non-gripness. I am completely smegging ungrippèd! Shut the smeg up!"
Jessie JessieTrans Rights <3
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-03 20:30:51 UTC Post #297334
lol
Rimrook RimrookSince 2003
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-04 14:31:07 UTC Post #297358
Okay, I'll likely be dropping more posts as we go, as I think of new things.
The whole story kind of reeks of...genericness. You need something original, something to make your story memorable. Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, and the like are all old hat. Invent something new to fill those niches; have a nation of people or a guild that's good at crafting weapons. Have a mysterious race that's close to nature. Make something new that likes to kill everything that moves. If all else fails, look through some DnD manuals such as the monster vault for inspiration. I'm sure you can find some PDFs for it online if you don't play. (Which you likely don't.) But if you do that, please, do not use Purple Worms. Because then pivotal plot points will read like this:
A town guard emerged from the crowd and ran towards Godran.
"Wait! Wait!" he stumbled to a stop, panting heavily. "Freeman, right? I've got a message for you. Make sure you don't-" The ground erupted beneath him, and the maw of a worm burst out of the cobble, consuming him. 35 meters of thick purple muscle hurtled into the air and touched down a few feet ahead, landing square on a fruit stand. Godran and the townspeople stood and stared at the two newly-formed wormholes. All was silent. Then someone screamed.


Another thing that adds depth to your world is things such as sayings, regional dialects, and accents.
"You want to get through the Miriadan Pass?" The stranger's short, clipped speech was distinctly Armanian. "Light and darkness, the pass has been too dangerous to use for years! Why, just a few spans ahead the road becomes impassable!"
Each nation should have something that makes it distinct from the rest. As you think up new ones, get the following items down:

Imports (Grain)
Exports (Tabac)
Climate (Temporate)
Accent (Short, clipped, tends to misuse commas)
Average complexion (Medium dark)
Average hair colour (Brown)
Average eye colour (Green)
Average height (5'6)
Current Fashions (Men and women both wear breeches, many rings, women carry daggers in their hair)
History (Born from old Damacania, birthplace of Harman Ropeclimber)
Notable Settlements (Johanan, capital)

Of course, these are just (rather poor) examples. You need to make your own.
Notewell NotewellGIASFELFEBREHBER
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-04 17:45:17 UTC Post #297369
JeffMOD speaks sense, you would do well to pay heed to his words, traveller.
Archie ArchieGoodbye Moonmen
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-04 18:54:29 UTC Post #297378
have a nation of people or a guild that's good at crafting weapons. Have a mysterious race that's close to nature. Make something new that likes to kill everything that moves.
All that is old hat too :P
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-05 10:38:41 UTC Post #297439
True, but it's less so than the three races because it has more room for creative development.
Notewell NotewellGIASFELFEBREHBER
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-05 13:36:11 UTC Post #297444
Have you read the last part of Chapter II under "Meanwhile?"

I hope that part is more original than the rest.
Dimbeak DimbeakRotten Bastard
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-06 01:31:13 UTC Post #297454
@Jeffmod
Thanks, I'm starting over on my novel. Thankfully, I didn't write too much to just leave it. Anyways, I'm trying to use new things. I refuse to use goblins or orcs or trolls or elves, I will create my own species. Also, instead of just "magic", I've invented something better.

The magical power of traquence; a mystical power located inside every heart.

Basically, traquence is an untamed power that transforms your human body into something much deadlier, except for Damogan, who cannot discover his traquence's power. In fact, he things it is too weak to use, but he does not yet know that it can be the most power force in the universe.

It is hard to master traquence, so they have made a small academy for those selected of the best warriors and knights. The book starts with the character finishing his practice, and accidentally wounding his friend who cannot control his traquence form. Basically, his friend turns into a werewolf after doing a few magical rituals. How does this sound?
Dimbeak DimbeakRotten Bastard
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-06 04:35:41 UTC Post #297464
Boring, actually. No offence.
Posted 13 years ago2011-08-07 03:33:56 UTC Post #297486
It's not about what you use or what you call it. It's about how you use it.
Jessie JessieTrans Rights <3
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