As the title implies, this is the update you were promised. Please keep in mind that both these excerpts are rough and unedited versions of stories that are separate from the current Chronicles of Koeleth and connected only indirectly to the current story. Enjoy.
Excerpt from Chronicles of Koeleth: The Forgotten War
So, this isn’t the update I promised, but at this late hour of the night I find myself in need of a distraction from my own thoughts. I figured the best way to do that was to write a little something. I’m presenting you, therefore, with another story stone “story”. Enjoy.
The Cascade of Tears
Maiden
Spirit of many sorrows
Her tears are as numerous as the drops of rain
She dances with the guardian and converses with the wolf
The demon’s fire is extinguished by her power
The cold once known fights her and the fallen hero entraps her
The story changes and strangers become friends
The scattered gather and a dragon is born
Guide of the mirrored twins, friend of the beating heart
The steel warrior and the scholar walk alongside
The golden wolf and the dark flame seek her counsel
Those of noble birth heed her words
Death encroaches only to be beaten back
The listless soul and the ceaseless hunger trouble her
Though woes come she never wavers
History shall remember her
Hello, folks. It’s Aaron next, as he will be Tom’s boon companion throughout much of the Chronicles of Koeleth. Also, I wanted to let you know that my next post will contain excerpts from two future Chronicles of Koeleth books, The Forgotten War and The Slayers of Koeleth. I realize I haven’t updated the current story in some time, but I am afraid that you will have to be patient. Anyways, here’s Aaron’s profile.
Aaron Mark Deepscar (Beginning of Story)
Known Aliases: Devin Sabersong, Aaron Nightingale
Age: 24
Birthdate: Harvestsky (October) 13, 7063
Birthplace: Earthmaw, Darwin’s Expanse, Koeleth
Current Residence: Ramsthrone, Ramsrest, Koeleth
Parents: Mark Gerald Deepscar, Jennifer Dana Batwing
Siblings: None
Significant Others: Depends on who you ask
Pets: None
Hair: Ginger, Slicked Back, Shoulder Length
Facial Hair: Ginger, Stubble
Eyes: Blue
Height: 6’2″
Weight: 164 lbs
Tattoos: None
Notable Features: None
Clothing: Black Long-Sleeved Shirt, Black Leather Travelling Boots, Black Pants, Black Theive’s Cape and Cowl
Armor: None
Occupation: Thief for Hire, Spy for Hire
Associations: None
Koeleth Standard Warrior Rank: C
Weapon of Choice: Utility Dagger
Blessed Weapons: Empty Eyes (Hasta, Apathy Magic, Water Element, Water Strike), False Mask (Pilim, Apathy Magic, Water Element, Water Pulse)
Favorite Color: Grey, like his outlook on life
Favorite Food: Guacamole (and the chips needed to eat it)
Favorite Drinks: Whatever is in the cup
Least Favorite Food: Whatever he has to pay for
Favorite Form of Transportation: Anything with wheels (so he can sleep in the carts)
Hobbies: Mocking Tom, Sleeping, Stealing Things
Unique Talents: Seducing woman (and the occasional man, if absolutely necessary), picking locks
Information Broker: Mei Owlwise
Favorite Animal: Any that don’t inconvenience him
Least Favorite Animal: Guard Dog
Other Notes: May or may not be the king of some distant country as a result of one of his jobs, is frustrated by locks he cannot unlock
So, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I have decided to try something. I haven’t consulted with my co-conspirators, so I don’t know how this will go down, but I’m going to try it. I used to read a few online comics-there were about ten that I alternated between-and I’m still a fan of manga, so I read that from time to time. I noticed that those media did something that you don’t often find in other media: character profiles. You know, a page devoted to describing a character just for the hell of it. Character profiles are interesting, in my opinion, and they provide insight into some of the less important and often more humorous aspects of a character, like their taste in music or their favorite food, for example. They also help the audience understand the character better. So I’m going to try it with Koeleth, and if it works, I may use the method in future stories (there WILL be future stories). So, my first victim, naturally, is Thomas Riversedge. Now, I will withhold some things because I don’t want to give away anything in the story. Ready? Let’s get started then!
Thomas William Riversedge (Beginning of Story)
Known Aliases: None
Hey, all. I am still without charger. A thousand apologies. To help make up for it, I have an excerpt from a future chapter of Koeleth. It is unedited and rough, but hopefully you will enjoy it nonetheless.
Excerpt from a future chapter of Koeleth
Tom awoke to see an unfamiliar female torso, wrapped in bandages, hovering over his body. For the briefest of moments a slurry of uncomfortable thoughts ran through his mind as he tried to understand how he could possibly have ended up in this situation. He mentally sighed in relief as he recalled the previous day’s conflict and the corresponding journey to the local tavern. It seemed as if the makeshift hospital room served its purpose admirably, as both he and his companion were healthy and alive, if a little bit sore. Tom declined to alert her to his consciousness, however, as he was very stiff and likely wouldn’t be able to move comfortably for some time anyway. As her chest shifted and swayed, a hand belonging to the same body prodded the various scars and wounds that littered Tom’s body. The recent ones from the day before twinged whenever the woman touched them, and she insisted on touching each one more than once. As she ran her hand over the gash on his left shoulder, he jolted up in pain.
“Agh!”
The woman stumbled backwards, startled by Tom’s sudden uprightness. Unfortunately for Tom, she had finally found his worse wound. Being left handed, and considering most of his opponents were right handed, the injuries to his left shoulder were always exceptionally unpleasant. The necessity of using his left arm meant that his injuries were frequently exasperated by continued combat. Furthermore, they always took the longest to heal, even when magic was involved. Catalina had quickly recovered from her initial shock and resumed her position beside Tom’s bed.
“Oh, no! I’m so, so sorry! Please, forgive me! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I’m so sorry!” the mage blubbered in embarrassed apology. “I’m so glad you’re awake, though! It would have been so tragic if you had died on account of me! I’m not sure I could have lived with myself if you had died!”
“It’s fine! It’s fine. You just hit a sore spot, that’s all.” Tom attempted to soothe her fears. “Besides, there are worse ways to be woken up.”
“There…there are?” Catalina said, tears still in her eyes.
“Yeah, definitely. It could have been a deadly assassin trying to kill me or something to that effect. Instead, it was a beautiful woman checking my injuries. Seems pretty good to me.”
“Uh, um, well…when you put it like that I suppose it is better than some alternatives…” she said, trying but failing to conceal her embarrassment at his compliment. “I’m just glad that you aren’t dead because of me. You risked your life for me, and I’m so sorry you had to suffer such awful damage because of it.”
“It’s okay, really. I am fully responsible for what happened to me. I made a choice, knowing full well what the consequences might be. You got pretty banged up yourself, though. How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better. But that healer did an excellent job of healing my wounds. You passed out right away after he took me off your hands, so as soon as he was done with me I asked him to check on you. I was so worried!”
“I get it, really. Don’t get too stressed over it. I’m a professional warrior, so I can handle myself. Thank you, though. I really appreciate it.”
Despite his comforting words, the woman maintained a morose, sorrowful demeanor. It emanated from her, a dense and tangible aura.
“So, why are you so sad?” Tom inquired. “It’s like sadness is a permanent aspect of your persona.”
“Well, that’s because it is. I find it exceptionally difficult to feel anything but sorrow. Life is just so tragic all the time. I guess that’s why Sorowa chose me as her paragon.”
“I guess so. I guess it’s also pointless for me to try and cheer you up, then. Not that I’m going to stop trying. By the way, I wear a breastplate in battle. I didn’t receive any chest wounds yesterday. Why were you ‘examining’ my chest?”
“Y-you were awake for that, then? W-well, you can never be too certain about these things!” Catalina tried desperately to justify her actions. “M-maybe the assassin had gotten behind your armor somehow.”
“Is that the story you’re going with?” Tom jested. “Well, you’re not hearing me complain.”
Greetings, lovely internet folk. Sorry it’s been a while- my discipline as a writer is still under development. And I’ve been working on back-end things for the site as well as other behind-the-scenes work here at Verbal Realms. Anyhow, the following is for your enjoyment and perhaps your edification:
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Ben Dulgoon woke slowly- stretching his arms above him and lowering them a few times before opening his eyes. The ceiling panels in his cell and in the hall were slowly flickering to life. Part of the flicker was the lights coming online one at a time, while part was provided by the shimmer of the transparent door. The doors weren’t force fields (too expensive to waste on prisoners), but they did carry a current and a decent punch if you ran into them on accident. He stood up slowly and relieved himself in the toilet by the corner. A few stray flecks hit the sides, and a small, wiry bot hurried out of a narrow panel in the wall and proceeded to sanitize the area vigorously. Ben hated those things.
It had been five years- give or take- since he had been interned at Cordis Detention Center. That was before war had broken out, or at least before the Confederation had recognized it as such. The Confederation had a long history of pretending things were different than they were, as far as Ben was concerned. He thought back to his home, to Gemini II. The moon and its twin had been terraformed centuries past into rich, tropical biomes which were excellently suited for year-round, small-scale farming and harvesting.
The dream behind the Gemini project had been far more optimistic than that of Beatrah Major. Beatrah had undergone minimal modifications due to its habitable atmosphere and ozone and, even more importantly, the ready accessibility of mineral resources. The Confederation had designated it as an industrial moon with a focus on shipbuilding. However, by the time Ben’s grandparents had been born, the Confederation had essentially crumbled due to infighting among the core worlds. A few well-placed fission explosions were all it took to wipe out the Council, Commissioners, and anyone who cared about what happened on the latest, now-forgotten colonization projects. And yet, leaders in Beatrah saw themselves as the Confederation in this system and purported to be the continuation of lawful governance.
What a farce, thought Ben.
It has arrived!
Tah dah!
This is Jack, posting on behalf of Sorin. Enjoy.
January 8, 1CR
Minerva
I waited outside the temporary dormitories for my brother. I had arranged for him to take me outside the colony walls, despite his protests. The last week had been difficult to say the least. Marius was available only infrequently, and even the poverty of the refugee sector had not prepared me for the spartan lifestyle imposed upon the people of the colony. Tomorrow I would have to start my job, running the small first aid clinic during the previously unstaffed night shift.
There were three nurses, including myself, and a doctor who had been a general surgeon at the local hospital. We were well equipped in terms of bandages and disinfectants, but as in the “refugee sector”, there was very little good medicine. Despite that, the other nurses seemed fairly nice, not that I would work with them for more than an hour every day, and Dr. Krantz was a really nice guy. Then there was the pay. I swear Linne went almost literally green with envy when she handed me my ration card. As a nurse, I was entitled to 3 large meals a day and double weekly credit towards luxury items. I didn’t get it entirely; I only knew that Linne said I was in the top portion for rations.
Either way I couldn’t say I was overly impressed with it. Even in the refugee sector, nursing had paid decently, but here my double portion would be enough for about one book a week. I didn’t mind so much that I had to expect less, though I will say that anyone looking with envy on the ability to purchase a single book was living a far harder life than I had ever had. Marius was the real high earner of the bunch though. Because he had two jobs, Marius got the rights to five meals a day, two of which he brought to the injured hunters in the clinic every day to try and help them regain their strength. His luxury item credit was the real stunner around here though. He got three-and-a-half credits. Apparently, he used some up on fresh flowers every week. Given that they had to be brought in from the refugee sector this time of the year, they were more expensive than books in winter.
I have yet to replace my charger, so I am afraid you will have to wait a little bit longer on chapter 11 of Koeleth (I really don’t want to rewrite that chapter). In the meantime, I’ve been thinking of ways to make it up to you. Well, I have a couple ideas, but tonight I had an epiphany of sorts. In Eirmoda (the world Koeleth is located in), there is a tale about the story stone. The story stone is said to be a magical obelisk that records the lives of the champions of humanity, both good and evil (I swear on my life that this is a real concept and not a convenient distraction). Naturally, all the paragons of the guardians are recorded on the stone, as are all exemplars, renegades, archfiends, slayers, and world eaters (these concepts will be explained later in the story). Well, I thought now might be a good time to introduce the story stone. So, let me tell you the tale of the Shield of the Anguished, one of a number of characters who are prominent in Koeleth. Who is he? That’s my little secret, for now.
The Shield of the Anguished
Wanderer
Guardian of the lost
His heart weeps bitter tears, his mind never rests
He dances with the rain and confers with the shadows
The depraved hero is broken by his blade
The cold entangles him and the wolf bites at his throat
The story changes and foes become friends
The scattered gather and a dragon is born
Ally of valor, friend of the survivor
The mirrored twins and the lion sage follow
The great bear and the ram bow before his might
He keeps the company of those of the story stone
Despair challenges his resolve but fails
The silent death and night sky aide him
Wars ever rage but he never yields
Only age can sweep him away
Hello, dear readers. I regret to inform you that I have mildly unfortunate news. Last week I promised you the next chapter of Koeleth would be released on Thursday. As you may have noticed, there is no next chapter posted. Well, I am afraid that my original deadline has been forcibly pushed back. Tragically, I did not manage to backup my document, so the only file I have is on my laptop. Neither did I send out a copy to be edited before Wednesday. In an unfortunate turn of events, a puppy decided that my charger cable looked an awful lot like a rawhide, and chewed it just enough to make cease functioning. Needless to say, when your laptop can’t charge, and you don’t have a backup file, you can’t use the files on your dead laptop. This is why there is no chapter posted. I will make it up to you with another bonus chapter in the near future. Hopefully I will be able to get a replacement charger soon. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
Nothing special to report. Here is the chapter I promised you.
Chronicles of Koeleth
Chapter X
Voice of the Damned
“Now hold on,” the barkeeper said. “You began this story by saying it was about how Tom met an unexpected comrade. I haven’t heard anything about him meeting anybody yet.”
“Oh, sure, you have,” the old man reassured him. “I’ve told you about Aaron and Collin. I’ve told you about Grace, Dennis and Rydia. These aren’t people you encounter everyday, you know. Well, your grandmother might have at one point in time. And so did I. That, my young friend, is quite off topic, though. Not to mention, I haven’t gotten to Tom’s most unusual—and most important—companion. But we have some time before we get to that. You must know about some of Tom’s other adventures first. Specifically this one.” The old man chuckled at the young man’s confusion and minor frustration.
“Fine, then. Get on with your story.”
“Alistair!” Dennis and Grace said in unison.
“Who’s Alistair?” Collin asked.
“He’s one of our pack mates,” Dennis explained. His abomination power lets him transform into a wraith-like shadow creature. While in that form, he can unleash a mind-numbing, blood-curdling, ear-splitting screech, like the one we’re hearing right now. The problem is…this scream, well, it’s while he’s in between forms. Any transformational abomination knows the pain of being in between forms. Grace knows it, Rydia knows it, and I sure as hell know it. Whatever is forcing him into this half state, it must be stopped, because if we can hearere his screech, the people at the camp can hear it all the more loudly. Right now, there are only two people in that area that aren’t affected, and if this is an attack, they will need our help!”
“Then we better get going!” Theo declared.
“Hold on, Theo,” Tom interjected. “We should get a scope on the situation first. Normally, I am all for rushing in with reckless abandon, but this Alistair’s powers could really cause damage if we aren’t careful.”
“You’re right. What do you recommend, then?”
“Grace, your power allows you to fly, right?”
Verbal Realms 