AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 11/17/2003 05:12:00 PM ----- BODY: Mavhek and company were just suggesting that they have a nip (a daring suggestion when you consider the fate that befell anyone caught stealing from the hooch wagons without permission) when Nagle and Kish rode up.

“You probably weren’t here when Trindle was here before,” said Nagle without preamble, ”but he’s returned and says that he has an idea that may help buy us some time and advantage against Maledon over there.”

Mahvek nodded. “Anything you suggest – we’ll be glad to help in any way that he can. Why, I’d be willing to whip out…”

“That,” said Nagle grinned abruptly, “won’t be necessary, Mahvek.”

The men grinned and had a hearty laugh.

“General?”

“Gentlemen,” said Kish without irony, “we’re going to need the War Wagons up here as quickly as possible.”

The players looked at each other, momentarily stunned by their good fortune, Mahvek and the erstwhile card players, and they spread a puzzled and slightly shocked look around amongst them as if their suggestion had been somehow revealed from a distance.

“Uh, sure, we can bring them forward, if you really think it best and all,” said Mahvek, and they mounted up and rode off to do just that.

“I think I’m going to like that guy,” remarked Rovan as they rode away, while Sarly appeared deep in thought and clearly seemed to betray that he shouldn’t have agreed to play at cards on this day. For his part, Mahvek shot Rovan a look that said that he didn’t believe any of it for a moment but that riding off to where the hooch was couldn’t be *all* bad.


“So how are we going to take that over?”, Nagle asked.

“That’s not my concern,” said Kish calmly, too calmly. “My interest is for these armies, both of them. All of these men are at risk and Maledon could them all out with one attack and clean up the rest with his storm troopers. He clearly intends to do just that, and I’m responsible. I don’t intend to let him do that without a fight.”

“With his what?”

“You know – his armies.”

“You’re not scheming to take over a storm fortress for your own purposes? You really *have* changed,” Nagle observed quietly.

“Well, if you remember the resolve of Trindle, you know that once I’ve made up my mind, I don’t change it without a bolt from above.”

At that moment, a flash appeared from the approaching mass, followed by a far-off crack of thunder.

“Perhaps that was a poor expression,” said Kish wryly. “Let’s move the armies out. We need to get staged as quickly as possible.”

“What was that?” asked Nagle.

“They’re beginning to take ranging shot,” said Kish. “They think they’re getting close to being close enough to start distance attacks. We haven’t any time to lose. The battle approaches.” -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 11/11/2003 02:33:00 PM ----- BODY: Kish rode up to Narly and sized him up anew. After a long moment of reflection, he nodded to Mickh and Rim.

“Gentlemen, I’m going to need a moment alone with the General, here”, he said quietly, and then rode off a little way, which evoked a scowl from Rim and caused Mickh’s eyes to widen. As he passed Mickh, he stopped and spoke something too low to hear. Mickh nodded once and he and Rim rode back to their position.

Narly missed none of that and grinned to himself as he followed after Kish.

As they sat and looked out over the prairie at the approaching fortress, they noticed that it was already well into storm mode, darkening the skies in its wake and gathering fury to itself.

“How far out do you think it is?”, asked Kish.

“Two hours, maybe three. It should arrive just at nightfall.”

Kish nodded silently, then looked at Narly.

“When we first rode up, you knew me but I didn’t know you.”

Narly waited.

“I know you now, don’t I, Lieutenant?”

Narly glanced nervously around him, unnerved for the first time since the two armies had met.

“You… ah, have the advantage of me,” he said.

“Ease your mind, my friend. I’m not insane. It is true that I didn’t recognize you an hour ago, however, I have recently recovered my full wits and memories since then. How I came to lose sight of the man you knew as Anatole Dale and recover him again will have to wait for another time. Let’s just say I was beside myself for a time and have returned. While I have recovered Dale’s memories, I remain Kish, the earnest templar. I was prepared to defeat your army an hour ago but seeing that it is *my* army that I now face, I am in the unfortunate position of having to change my plans.”

Narly had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, and did not recover any of his bluster. He still retained his backbone, however.

“Just for the sake of argument, what possesses you to think that you… Kish… would have been able to defeat these pirates? They were assembled and trained by the mysterious Trindle himself before he vanished.”

Kish bowed at this and then grinned the first grin that Narly had seen in years.

“Kish was not unprepared,” he said. “You were arrayed before us on the Prairie, ready to overrun our forces. You have us out-manned two to one. However,” Kish said, turning and gesturing to Mickh, “even Kish had not forgotten that nothing is ever really what it seems”, and as he twirled two quick, casual circles in the air with his finger, archers rose up out of the grasses on both sides at the top of the hill behind him. Still facing Narly, he held his fists aloft and then drew them together.

As one, they deftly de-strung their bows and assumed a position that was clearly a form of “parade, rest”.

“The little force I have behind me masks the remaining 2/3s of my force on the other side of the hill waiting for my order to deploy and flank you,” he said.

“I was walking into a trap,” marveled Narly, and Kish inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment.

“I may desire peace but I’m not a pacifist,” explained Kish. “If one *must* be brought to war, one may as well prepare himself.”

Narly smiled despite himself.

Then Kish gave his sword to an astonished Narly and said “I’m giving this to you to keep for me. You’re going to want to explain what we’re doing to your men. Your men need to see us in agreement and I will use a different weapon for my next battle.”

“Next battle?”

“With them,” Kish said, gesturing back to the approaching storm fortress. “With him,” he said. “With Maledon.”
-------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 11/10/2003 02:28:00 PM ----- BODY: Looking back on it, the beginning of the Grey Watch was not an elegant, well-organized thing. The appearance of the storm fortress from around the side of the mountain interrupted their petty squabbling, except for Pisho, who seemed caught up in the fray, “is not, is not, is not, is not…” It was clear when it finally dawned on him because he stopped in mid-sentence. The strangest things cause Pisho to clam up.

The people assembled went completely silent, starting with Kish's band and ending with the Trindle pirates. It could be that Kish's group was more in tune with what was coming, but it was more likely because they were simply facing that way.

Kish’s group had seen the stormfortresses in passing before, obviously, but this was different. Then, they'd been the hunters, stalking the storm fortresses from a distance. It was clear that now the roles were about to be reversed, hunted and up-close-and-personal.

The wave of silence swept over the assembled masses of both armies until you could hear the soft breeze that played around the grasslands laced with wildflowers.

“We’re really screwed,” Rim observed distantly, breaking the silence. It was so like him to speak first. And last.

“Don’t speak like that in front of the Lady,” Flaerich said absently, but his heart wasn't in it.

Brindy said “I’m not a Lady, dammit”, but her voice was as clinical as his. It had the essence of an age-old comedy routine, but nobody was laughing as their collective attention remained fixed on the distant cloud-castle.

It was clear that Kish was still reeling from his own revelation and was grappling with personal pain. Mickh looked over at him and spoke like he was asking about the weather.

"So," he said, "I don't suppose this is a good time to expect anything brilliant."

You have to know Mickh to know that he's the most gentle person on the planet. It was clearly his way of reaffirming the depths of the trouble that they were in, which revelation was immediately forthcoming.

Kish sat his steed as tears dripped down onto his cheeks and chest. He may or may not have seen the slowly approaching threat. By all impressions, he seemed to be seeing other things entirely in his mind's eye at the particular moment.

Mickh sighed softly and urged his massive plow horse forward to meet with the leader of the Trindle pirates. Rim spurred his stallion to catch up and ride out with him.

"Whose fortress is that?" Mickh asked by way of introduction.

Where they had been moments away from blows, Narly now seemed the very soul of co-operation. "That, my friend, belongs to Maledon himself."

"Good," said Rim. "I like to know who we're dealing with, and everyone knows Maledon."

A gust of breeze blew dandelion seeds past them in gentle little clouds. Rim's stallion shook its head and stamped a little, as high-spirited as Rim himself.

After a moment staring at the incoming cloud, Narly asked the obvious question.

"So, do you gentlemen have an ideas on how to deal with this?"

Mickh had a great moment to make history but his candor wrecked the moment.

"I was rather hoping that you would, to be honest. Rim?"

Rim nodded his head in the affirmative to bolster then courage of anybody watching. "Nope," he said, nodding. "I've got nothing. I'm fighting to keep from wetting myself here and now."

"Ah, yes," said Narly, nodding. "My feeling exactly."

Back on the hill in Kish's army, Flaerich took out his book and dismounted from his splendid steed, looking for a comfortable place to recline. He sensed Brindy's eyes on him. "Let me know when somebody has a plan," he said, turning his face from her.

"You don't have any ideas," she asked.

He turned slightly. "Run," he said, over his shoulder. "Other than that, not really, no.”

“We won’t run, though, and if we don't leave right now, this instance, that floating horror would catch us anyway before we reached the relative safety of the forest. That's approaching from the northwest, effectively cutting off retreat to the west *or* the north. The forest is 15 miles south of here and the only other strategic feature for miles is the black canyon five miles to the east."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying," she said.

"Yes," Flaerich answered. "I'd better read fast to finish this book in time."

"Time for what," she said, a mere formality, really, because she knew what was coming next – they all did.

Flaerich looked up, not unkindly, and broke it to her as gently as he could. "Time to die, my sweet," he said.

In the depths of the Trindles, Mavhek looked at Rovan. "What do you say?" he said.

"You deal, I go first," said Rovan.

"Why do *you* get to go first?"

"It's the way you play - you deal, the next guy gets to go first."

Sarly rode over. "What are you guys doing," he asked, "stones or pikes?"

"Stones," said Mavhek.

"Pikes," said Rovan.

"Ok," said Sarly. "Deal me in."

"Ok," said Mavhek. “And here you are, and here you are, and here you are.”

They all looked at him with varying degrees of confusion, then Rovan patiently gathered the cards up and handed them back to Mavhek.

"You shuffle, you deal, then *Sarly* goes first,” he explained.

"Why does *he* get to go first now?", demanded Mavhek.

Rovan shot him a glare. "I don't know why I play with you at all," he growled, and then produced his wallet, which action reminded the others in the process why they played with Rovan after all: he was a smart, loyal fighter (as pirates go), but was abysmally bad at Stones *and* Pikes. Rovan always lost, and he always paid his debts – the best sort of mark.


“Kish,” Brindy said, “Kish….,” she said. She clearly was becoming as distraught as he was, which fact was just as puzzling to those around them.

His eyes were on the pommel of his saddle now, and then closed entirely, just open enough to emit silent tears, and lots of them. His shoulders were shaking now, and he was wracked with great, inelegant sobs.



“How does Maledon know we’re all here?” Mickh asked.

“That’s Maledon for you – his network of informants is one of the best on the planet. He spends his money freely and well, and profits from it,” said Narley. “According to the information we fed the spies, he should have been chasing for you in the opposite direction. We even had wagons out there riding along at speed to kick up the dust and lend the illusion from a distance that there was an army fleeing in that direction. We were going to have this field all to ourselves for this battle. Of course, it now appears that where Maledon is concerned, it’s easier to get permission than it is to get forgiveness.”

“What are you suggesting,” asked Rim.

“Instead of just wiping you out, he means to destroy us both,” said Narley.

“Destroy us *all*,” said Mickh, softly.

After an uncomfortable moment, Rim said, “so what do we do now?”

“That’s the question of the day, isn’t it?”, said Narly.



Flaerich wiped a gentle tear from his eye from where he reclined. “Ah, that Tarli,” he said. One of Kish’s young men, boys really, was standing nearby, observing. “He’s a dreadful writer but he still evokes the most marvelous sense of tragedy despite his worst efforts. If only he had done this, if only she had done that. If it weren’t for smudged ink on the bottle. So true, so true…”

The young man clearly had no idea what he was talking about. “Young man, never take potions without the appropriate writ,” he said. “You’ll be spared great sadness, not to mention your unfortunate passing. In addition, hack writers won’t enrich themselves at your expense.”

Tucking the book away, he straightened up in his saddle.

“Time to get this thing together,” he said.

He rode up to Kish and Brindy and spoke to them for a moment (to astonishing results). First, Kish looked like he wanted to strike Flaerich with a raised hand, then Brindy slapped it, hard, so that their hands were grasped tightly together. Flaerich placed his palm on theirs and spoke two words with eyes closed, after which Kish leaned forward, hugged him (awkwardly, as it is on horseback), after which he said to Brindy, “Please forgive me. I’ll catch up with you, later, and devote my lifetime to making an appropriate apology to you. For now…”

“Yes,” she said. “Now you must go and first give us a lifetime, and then we’ll take it from there. Oh, and Kish,” she said, “you’re both, now. Use all your gifts. Use them wisely.”

“I’ll try, Milady… Sweetcheeks,” he said. He gave the barest wink(which somehow heightened the affect) and quickly rode off. He had two armies to save. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 11/10/2003 11:12:00 AM ----- BODY: http://www.nanowrimo.org/index.php

There is apparently a contest going on here in November that is right down my alley:

"National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.

Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over talent and craft, NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved.

Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly."

The good news is that I could use something like this to jump-start my writing. The bad news is that it's already November 10th! It appears that writing 2400 words per day for the next 21 days will *just* put me over, but can I find the time to invent something in 21 days?

I'm thinking of taking a very raw shot at the Aerie work for this contest and then cleaning it up. Perhaps I'll try my hand at a prequel or something.

Here are the main elements:

What: Writing one 50,000-word novel from scratch in a month's time.

Who: You! We can't do this unless we have some other people trying it as well. Let's write laughably awful yet lengthy prose together.

Why: The reasons are endless! To actively participate in one of our era's most enchanting art forms! To write without having to obsess over quality. To be able to make obscure references to passages from your novel at parties. To be able to mock real novelists who dawdle on and on, taking far longer than 30 days to produce their work.

When: Writing begins November 1, 2003. To be added to the official list of winners, you must reach the 50,000-word mark by November 30 at midnight. Once your novel has been verified by our web-based team of robotic word counters, the partying begins.

I'm pretty sure I can write 2400 words of crap per day - I'm just not sure I *want* to.

So, is anyone else "in"?

Johne (Phy) Cook -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 10/05/2003 02:09:00 PM ----- BODY: I realize it's been awhile since I posted something new. I'm working through some mundane stuff in RealLife™, like the Men's Retreat last weekend, a new renter, and some frankly brilliant reading (I know some don't care for David Brin, personally, and that's too bad - he's a Top Tier writer).

In that spirit, here's something I came across this afternoon from the Deep Magic Christian fantasy forums:
I read somewhere that writers only spend about 15% of their time actually writing. The other 85% of the time is spent playing solitaire on the computer, reading books, staring at blank computer screens and making up names for characters in upcoming books. To the layman, this looks like goofing off. But to the trained writer, this is a period in which ideas are fermenting. The ideas roil in the subconcious, slowly morphing into story lines. While the brewing is going on, it's best not to look and so the writer distracts the concious mind with "research." -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 9/04/2003 01:08:00 PM ----- BODY: Aerie intro

As you approach Aerie from space, you notice a couple of things. First, it's a remarkably normal looking place - blue oceans, brown and green continents, white clouds. As you get closer, you notice that there's a good mix of clouds, but it is the storm clouds that get your attention. After your burn into the atmosphere, you regain control of your bearings and continue your observations As you get closer, you start to notice something peculiar about some of the storm clouds. For one, they appear to be staged about, not always following what would appear to be a complementary weather front. Some, in fact, are positioned around in places where there is no other discernable weather at all.

Getting closer yet to one of these , you notice two of the great storm clouds in rather close proximity to each other in an otherwise clear sky.

Drawing nearer, you notice with a shock that these storm clouds each contain what appear to be castles in their midst, great halls and spires with stone and wood and wildly fluttering flags. Even that observation is tempered when the flashes start flickering.

It is not hard to see what's going on, seeing the blue and green beams darting and blazing back and forth between them.

There are men in those castles, and they are fighting.



Failing to find something that evokes the majesty and wonder that I see in my head, I'm working on a section that doesn't fit the piece but will serve as a placeholder for wonder until I come up with something else. It is more about the mood than the text, or the scene, or the mechanics of the scene. It is the impact of the introduction that I'm after.

It's like this - I can't shake that very visual impact that introduces the first Star Wars film (by which I mean Episode 4), and I have half an idea that I'd like to introduce some kind of visual flair into my first introduction to Aerie.

I realize that this next segment asks more questions than it answers, and that's fine. It serves one purpose only - to provide a placemark for wonder, and to set a stage right out of the gate. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/26/2003 04:00:00 PM ----- BODY: Posting this here for posterity and later reference.

Eclipsing Good Villains, by Zahir el Daoud
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I was thinking about this quite a bit for the last several weeks and wanted to share my thoughts and encourage comments.

Sir Ian McKlellan in the EE of FOTR repeated a famous quote "The Devil gets all the best tunes." This got me thinking about a technical problem that pops up again and again in all kinds of fiction--that of balancing good and evil in terms of interest.

For example, in LOTR Tolkien did something very clever in keeping the bad guys for the most part very much off stage. Conflict arose almost entirely from basically good people (Boromir, Denethor, especially) fighting their own worst impulses. And one can see why that is a good idea. Consider how many times a really top-knotch villain has stolen a film or story?

On reflection, I think there's a comment in here about the seductiveness of evil (after all, if it wasn't attractive, there wouldn't be much of a problem!). But I also think there's the question of dramatic process.

Characters are more compelling when they have specific goals. People who "wander" or just "react" to life are perceived as passive, hence uninvolving to watch (although perhaps quite delightful as neighbors). A character on BtVS said something funny about this: "Evil beings have plans. They have things to do." In other words, evil characters with their nefarious plans are inherently dynamic.

Here's what occurs to me to rectify this:

1) Virtue needs to defend genuine value. Tolkien's heroes are quite literally trying to keep the world from being enslaved. Okay, that sounds simple but is actually kinda tricky. It needs to be illustrated, make vividly clear in order for the audience to care. We only fear the desecration of the Shire after we learn to love it. Likewise, Carazil in The Curse of Chalion begins with desiring no more than a home. He reacts to his situation with grace and a surprising amount of dignity. From him he learn to care about the people around him, and understand when he goes to such extreme lengths to save them.

2) The Virtuous can also have specific and tangible goals of their own. One of the most interesting of these was in The War Hound and the World's Pain in which Satan seeks to find the Holy Grail in an effort to win God's forgiveness! Earning redemption, uniting the kingdom's factions (a la King Arthur), reaching the end of the world (aboard the Dawn Treader perhaps), etc. are all goals that not only make heroes compelling, it helps define what makes them heroes in the first place.

3) What makes good villains also makes good heroes. By that I mean complexity, individuality, and also the kind of ambiguity that censors tend to loathe. Snape is (evidently) a hero, and a mighty compelling one, but at first didn't we all assume he was a bad guy? And Tyrion Lannister certainly has many of the same issues as Richard III. I feel mightily for Thomas Covenant, because here's someone in the process of becoming a hero, and who frankly could easily slide into outright villainy. Watching him make the choices that form that process is, imo, one reason those books are such mighty bestsellers. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/26/2003 03:45:00 PM ----- BODY: Something that my buddy Blutarsky said has given my an idea about the Trindle pirates. All this time, I was assuming that they were unattached scoundrels and vagabonds roaming the great plains of Aerie for no particular reason, explicitly serving Maledon.

What if, instead, they're indiginous aboriginal natives with their own belief system (that is, indians). That might explain how Kish, in a moment of epiphany, is able to swing their allegiance from Maledon to Kish by appealing to their sense of fairplay, their faith, and (oh by the way) revealing that they actually are serving one whom they desperately hate?

Of course, they'll need a different name, but I think that may flow better and be more believeable in the long run - plains indians that rob and pillage and so forth, not indiscriminantly, but at the behest of Maledon (through an intermediary - they won't know who they're serving).

I think I like it. -------- AUTHOR: Phy DATE: 8/20/2003 03:50:00 PM ----- BODY: It occurs to me that Brindy requires more thought before I venture any further. Kish (who has temporarily lost his longterm memory of who he is due to the Eidolon "rolling up the window" to prevent a breakdown) meets Brindy almost immediately after his experience with the Eidolon in the cave. She quickly determines that her former captor is now in her hands. Somehow or other, she decides to stay with Kish but immediately separate themselves from the main force of the Trindle pirates. Where do they go? How do they get there? What is revealed? When do they start to meet the other three? What is their reason for being, and what do they do next?

I'm going to have to get past this before I do much else, I think. --------