Author in waiting
Nah... My work does not make fun of Twilight in that way. It does, however, attempt to create a hypothetical scenario where vampires are powerful as a species and take advantages of their strengths and weaknesses accordingly in a technological era. Oh, and attempts to remake a few supporting characters in Twilight so that they become their own characters rather than props.
Ironically these remakes means that my work becomes effectively an original story.
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So here I decide to post the first chapter.
BEWARE. HERE BE DRAGONS THAT DREAM OF NEON GENESIS EVANGELION.
Not so much for the semi-coherent stupors of juvenile dragonlings. Agnochroth could testify that. Within the last half a year when he was not busy going out there on one of those wine-hunting trips of his, he’d indulged himself in several slumbers, each dream weirder and more unintelligible than the last. Maybe he was just that kind of cloud-headed creature. Maybe it was that drink he had just had. Or maybe those dreams were connected in some way to his future. He didn’t know, and most frankly speaking didn’t give half a cow’s behind about. He did, however, enjoy thoroughly that part of his current dream that catered to his wildest fantasies.
He and that next-cave gold dragonling Auroferra, a long-time… acquaintance, were standing next to each other, clad in some sort of out-of-this-world exotic full-body armors tailor-made for their kind. Before them stood a human figure with his palms perpetually crossed before his face, obscuring everything underneath his nosebridge and cheekbones. As a smooth, relaxing music played in the background, he could hear the figure talking to them both.
“Both of you, dance like you want to win.”
And then they danced, like a pair of prince and princess in an elven highlord’s grand banquet. Or rather, what he thought to be a dance was only beginning when the entire scene suddenly imploded upon itself. At about the same time he felt a rather heavy – by human and elven standard – smack upside his head. Such a blow could quite brutally murder a man or elf, yet through his thick scales and skull it felt like a harmless – albeit violent – tap.
“Wake up.”
Agnochroth slowly lifted his head off the floor of his cave, made a vague nodding gesture, before dropping it squarely on the ground again with a defiant thud. His scaly visage grimaced much like the expression of a sleepy child acting up. Such gesture quickly earnt him another smack upside the head.
“Wake up, you slow-ass buffoon!”
The dreamscape finally completely dissolved as he slowly opened his blurry eyes to the surrounding. Even with his eyes half-closed and his mind more or less numb from the long slumber, the juvenile silver dragon still recognized that voice well enough. Sharp as an enchanted sword and ringing like a high noble’s finest golden clock tower bell, yet capable of dealing quite the strong language to whoever deserved it. It had been more than a century since he first had to contend with that voice and its rather temperamental owner.
The silver dragon let out a huge yawn, as if to deliberately tick off his aggressor.
“Oh, hi there Ferra,” he said, flaunting his drowsiness. “What time is it again?”
“Sharp noon, sixth day of the third moon,” the voice snapped back angrily. “1345 AE, if that detail slipped off thick head of yours.”
Agnochroth let out another huge yawn in relief. He hadn’t drowsed off for as long as he thought.
“That’s barely a five-day nap,” he answered. “No big deal.”
As he spoke, he finally lifted his head off the ground and looked towards the general direction of the voice. There he saw standing near the entrance of his homestead the majestic figure – or rather, what would only become majestic through another millennium or so – of a gold dragon about his age and size. Her golden scales were glittering rather glamorously as sunlight shone directly on her form. However, the demeanor she displayed was well in sharp contrast with that alluring appearance.
“So do I need to whack you again?”
She roared sharply as she stared at him, her left foreclaw raised above his head as though ready to deliver another wake-up slap. Her features, sharp yet stern and none the less fearsome than the elder dragons, gave the silver dragon a chill up his long spines. He’s known from personal experience that this look of hers would herald a most violent of reply if he did not comply with whatever she was demanding.
“Alright, alright, you won,” Agnochroth raised his claw, waving it before the gold dragon to signify his surrender. Then he quickly lifted up his whole body to comply with her wake-up call with all due haste. Quickly wiping his face with his forearms, he then looked up at the gold dragon.
“There, I’m awake. All fine and shiny. Happy?”
The gold dragon kept her eyes fixed on his form for a few more seconds with the most inquisitive of looks. It was only when he had fully arisen and any sign of drowsiness having faded from his eyes that her features and voice mellowed down. Friendly, even.
“Good,” she said, her voice shifted into a semi-jolly tone. “You’d sleep half your life away if I am not here to wake you up, I reckon.”
“Why, yes, I mean, no, of course not” Agnochroth answered, his voice characteristically jovial. “You know that I can be very committed and timely – to parties and fine drinks.”
The gold dragon’s palm connected with her forehead, followed by a rapid headshake.
“You really do take after…” she blurted out thoughtlessly, before her better retook control of her speech. “Never mind.”
Agnochroth took a glance at his visitor, briefly shrugging to signify that he could not care less, before lazily let out another yawn.
“So, on what occasion am I entertaining the fine scion of the most noble gold dragon house in my…”he said in a tone as humorous as he could whip up, “… inexplicably humble homestead?”
As he spoke, he took a glance around his cave’s background, as though prompting his visitor to do the same.
Agnochroth’s cave was to a regular dragon’s abode as a straw shanty in the slums was to a prim and proper brick-and-mortar house – small, draughty, and with literally nothing of value to dragonkind. While other dragons both good and might hoard large quantities of gold, silver, gemstones and magic items, this particular silver dragon’s store consisted almost exclusively of large barrels of dwarven ale, beer and wine. One might get the impression that whatever gold or wealth he might have hoarded he had blown away thoughtlessly on such frivolities.
To his credit, though, his collection of alcohol had been arranged more carefully and orderly than the finest alehouse throughout the realms. To this end, his cave looked like an elaborate wine cellar for lords and kings, with proper signs and designations for seemingly each and every kind of drink on the face of the earth.
If his signboards were to be believed, his cave was housing no less than two dozen barrels of fine Nordland Great Long Axe aged wine, five-scores of the famed half-elf-brewed Forestborn Herbal liquor, a couple dozens of Flamed Dragonhops ale, and countless bottles and barrels of various, yet lesser known brews. That collection was the result of countless journeys across the length and breadth of the world, pub-crawling through the most famous of breweries and taverns in the land.
Despite his pathologically obsessive hoarding, the dragon himself seemed to consume surprisingly little liquor, evident in the lack of empty bottles and barrel as well as the stench of booze about his sleeping quarters. When he did drink though, the result would usually not be pretty. In fact, the reason he had slept so soundly that day was owing to a careless tasting of a relatively obscure – yet hideously powerful – brand of dwarven ale right after a long wine-hunting trip.
“Afraid I haven’t got anything for this occasion,” he asked with a sly glint in his eyes as he glanced back at his acquaintance. “So… A drink, m’lady?”
He began to stride towards a particular corner stacked with peasant-grade-looking barrels, over which hang a sign that read, in bright capital letters, “REGULAR DRINKS”. There were more empty bottles and barrels around that corner than all other places in his cave, suggesting that when the silver dragon did drink at all, it was from this most humble-looking pile.
“No thanks,” the gold dragon shook her head as she let out a long sigh of exasperation. “Seriously, are you going to spend your life in this… hole like this forever? Leaving behind no fine legacies or treasures? What bard would sing a song about a silver dragon that literally does nothing but collect these… useless barrels?”
“Well, but of course,” Agnochroth answered, his voice not at all serious. “The realms are always in need for connoisseurs of wine and spirits, lest a great feast be held with clumsy elven brews for the main course.”
“But you don’t drink as much as you claim, do you?” the gold dragon asked back as she looked around the cave. “This,” she pointed towards the most neatly stacked hoard of his finer wares, “isn’t the work of a drunkard, is it?”
”Well, a drunkard can be quite… agile with his limbs, if you have ever seen one at work,” Agnochroth answered, now turning fully back to face his visitor. If she had no wish for a drink, he might as well not have bothered offering.
“So, let’s get down to business,” he said, his voice partially shifting for a more business-like tone. “You are normally too busy to pay me a visit. A gold dragon scion’s noble duty, undead to fight, questing knights to aid, yada yada, I know. So what’s the catch today, huh?”
In hindsight those might as well not be the wisest words, for no sooner had Agnochroth finished his sentence than he was faced with a deathly glare from his friend that again drove a cold chill up his spines.
“Surely. You. Jest,” she growled, emphasizing each word. “Have you not received any word from Prince Faegard since, I don’t know, two months ago?”
Agnochroth’s eyes widened.
“Word? What kind of word?” he asked back hastily as he almost sprang up from his posture. “Did the Prince send me something I am not aware of?”
“Why, I must ask you,” the gold dragon answered, exasperated. “You are the one who should have received an invitation, not me.”
“But I certainly had got nothing!” the silver dragon exclaimed. “And I always keep my papers in order!”
“Oh, really?” hissed the gold dragon. “I’d never have guessed.”
The gold dragon’s eyes glanced at another corner of the cave, lined with some empty bottles, barrels and other refuse that the owner had somehow failed to clean up.
“Well, I do… most of the time,” he answered sheepishly, before abruptly return to the topic. “Anyway, do you know something I don’t? Care to share?”
“What, you’ve been living under a rock or something?” the gold dragon replied, before taking a long pause as her disdainful glance scanned the entire cavern’s breadth as though it was the surest proof of her adversary’s negligence. “Oh wait, you have. Who am I kidding?”
Taking a deep breath of exasperation, she looked at the silver dragon straight in the eyes. Such was the ferocity of her stare that Agnochroth flinched and shivered in a rather undignified manner.
“It’s been a long and hard journey for him,” she said. “But our prince has finally made it.”
At that point Agnochroth’s eyes suddenly sparked alight. He leaned towards his visitor, his face showing every sign of anticipation he could muster.
“Made it?” he asked back, his voice shivering from excitement. “You don’t mean…”
“Yes. Yes I do,” said the gold dragon, her expression changed from one of seriousness to one of joy. “We now have to address our prince as ‘His Royal Highness, Grand Duke of Fairtimber Glade, Prince of Unity City and Scion of the Alliance’.”
“Hip-hip-hooray!”
The last four words made the silver dragon’s heart jump with joy, causing him to leap up and cheer ecstatically as though he were a little elven boy. It was not a very move in hindsight, since his rickety cavern ground and a jumping dragon’s great weight did not go well hand in hand. The next thing the silver dragon heard was the sound of several bottles and barrels being displaced from their shelves and splintering on the rocky floor messily.
“Ooops,” Agnochroth shuddered as he heard the crash, quickly spinning back towards his hoard to check the damage.
Fortunately for him, his most prized liquor barrels were intact. They should be – he had spent quite literally every waking hour in the cave reinforcing the storage of his finest barrels with so much stone and gravel they could withstand quite a bit of shock. Not so much for that corner of his ‘regular drinks’, however. Half of his shoddily placed jars and barrels of peasant ale and beer now lay strewn on the floor, their content flowing freely across the room.
“What a mess,” commented his visitor as she slightly tilted her head away from the pool of spilt drink to avoid the fumes, grimacing.
“Well, eh… accidents are an inseparable part of celebration,” the silver dragon answered, scratching the back of his head bashfully. “Worry not, I’ll clean this up later.”
As he spoke, he clumsily swiped his left hind leg to push the stream of drink away from their current position.
“What a senseless waste of perfectly serviceable ale.”
Then, suddenly remembering something, the silver dragon looked at his visitor, his face tinted with anticipation.
“Ferra, do you happen to know…” he asked, the anticipation was mixed well with anxiety and hesitation, “whom the prince has chosen to be his bonded wardragon?”
His answer was naught but silence. Before him, his guest gold dragon just stood there, jaws clenched, her expression fierce… and bitter.
“You should have known better than me, shouldn’t you?” she asked, her voice sullen.
“You mean…”
“Who else would our fair prince choose as his brother-in-arms but you, Agnochroth?” she said, her own brand of mild antagonism continued. “You lucky bastard.”
Agnochroth couldn’t believe his ears.
“Are… are you certain of this?” he stammered. “You… you do know better, right? This is no joking matter!”
The gold dragon hissed as she reached for a leather pouch strapped to her side. Her paw quickly produced from its belly two well-sealed scrolls. The crimson-silver seals bore the imagery of a pair of maple leaves emblazoned on a sharp-edged heater shield. This was unmistakably the royal heraldry of the High Elven Monarchy of Greenglaze.
“Look, His Highness knew you’d miss this important development, so he even sent you yet another personal message to tell you of his good news and invite – no, order you to the capital city to attend his coronation and the bonding ceremony,” the gold dragon said, handing over the scroll. “Check out for yourself.”
Agnochroth’s entire body froze for a split second, his eyes stared at the two sealed scrolls without moving a single muscle. It took him a while before he could muster his paw to reach out for them. With all due haste, he proceeded to tear off the seal and unfurled them. All the while he was shivering as though in a violent bout of seizure, almost to the point of dropping the treasured message.
For the next few minutes all was quiet as Agnochroth savored the messages. One of them was an official invotation of sort bearing the prince’s signature. And the other was a personal letter, which Agnochroth was all too delighted to read. The only thing one could hear was the sound of the stream of ale still tricking across the cavern floor. The air was so thick with both tension and the smell of cheap ale one could cut it with a knife.
And then the silver dragon dropped the scroll on the ground with a mild thud. To the gold dragon, that miniscule sound almost sounded like a thunderbolt across a clear sky, such that her entire body jerked in a violent spasm, rightfully startled.
“What? What’s wrong? What did the prince say?” she asked hastily, her voice seized by anxiety. “Did anything bad happen?”
This anxiety, however, was soon proved unfounded.
“I… I was chosen,” the silver dragon answered, entranced. “I was chosen to be His Highness’ wardragon.”
His eyes suddenly open as wide as it could, his face wildly mad with joy.
“Dad! I did it, I tell you! I did it at last!” he jumped up, exclaiming at the top of his voice. “Did you hear that? I did it!”
His joyous outburst was, again, brought to an abrupt end with another series of crashes and clattering from the direction of his storage. As the silver dragon looked back on his stash his face sagged – far as he knew, that was his entire year’s supply of alcohol down the drain quite literally.
“Ooops,” he said sheepishly.
“Why, you clumsy dolt…”
Auroferra remarked, shaking her head. To which Agnochroth responded with yet another hearty smile.
“No worries, no worries, I’ll clean up this mess in no time at all,” he said in as cheery a tone as he could muster, determined not to let the two consecutive accidents dampen his mood. “I really should mind to reinforce those shelves these days.”
“In all seriousness, you are a Scion’s wardragon now,” she said, patting the silver dragon on the back. There was a passing glint of disappointment in her tone, a glint that, in the joy of the moment, the silver dragon did not detect.
“You’d better know how to behave yourself well beside His Highness from now on. I’m not going to be around to correct you when you’re away campaigning with him, am I?’
“Yes, mom,” Agnochroth spoke in a jovially mocking tone, laughing as he said.
“Be serious!” Auroferra sterned her voice. “Being a scion’s wardragon is no child’s play. Don’t you dare bring shame to us now, you hear?”
Her serious words were, astonishingly, met with a similarly solemn reply.
“I know, right?” he said as he looked at her assuringly. “It’s about time I repay his debt to society. To the king. To all that is good and holy. I’m not going to blow this chance, you see?”
“Well, if you say so,” the gold dragon said, her voice mellowed down, “I’ll have faith in you… I think.”
“You have my word, Ferra,” the silver dragon said. “A dragon’s word is worth more than mountains of gold. We both know that, don’t we?”
“But of course,” the gold dragon nodded in acknowledgement, her expression shifted into a smile. “Follow His Majesty with courage and make us proud, will you?”
“That’s a given,” the silver dragon responded with a roar. “World, here I come!”
“Ah, and this is for you,” Auroferra said, as though having just remembered something. She produced from her person another item, a remarkably bulky package wrapped in copious amounts of leather wrapping, from the look of it.
“Don’t forget to bring this with you,” she said, handing the package with due care to the silver dragon, smiling as she spoke. “Or I’d find you personally and beat you over the head with a random heavy object. Got it?”
“Yes, sis,” Agnochroth dragged his voice out jovially as he collected the package.
The gold dragon’s smile continued as she looked at her friend, until the smell of a certain substance in the air passed her tolerance threshold. Or that was the impression Agnochroth got from her grimace.
“Wish I could stay, Agno, but… I have some business to tend to,” she said, darting a glance towards the ever-growing pool of spilled ale. “So… see you in Unity City.”
With that, the gold dragon turned back and quickly strode towards the cave entrance, spread her wings and took off. Before Agnochroth could effectively reply, he had soared off in the distance.
“Remember to clean up the place before you leave, okay?” were the last words he heard as his friend flew off.
“Geez, she left,” murmured the silver dragon. “Girl’s got a real attitude issue.”
Agnochroth shrugged, before turning back, ignoring his friend’s sudden departure. It was not every day that a silver dragon would be chosen to be a Scion of the Alliance’s wardragon, after all. It might as well be the most important day in his entire millennium of existence to come, bar none. He was not going to let that little incident dampen his festive mood.
The stream of ale flooding up one-quarter of his cavern, on the other hand, was another matter altogether. While few of his more precious stock were damaged, his regular drinks were all but ruined. The amount of peasant ale spilt on the ground basically soaked up the entirety of his wine cellar corner, and for all he knew about that sort of drink, it might take entire days to clean up the place.
“This is going to take a while,” he said to himself, sighing as he began to work...
Issues I want to resolve:
- Is the NGE Shout-Out too obvious?
- Is Auroferra being too obviously Tsundere?
- Is the atmosphere too animesque?
If you answer "Yes" to any of the above three questions, tell me immediately so that I can go back to the drawing board.
edited 1st Sep '11 7:49:01 AM by ArgeusthePaladin
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Firstly, I want to say that I do have a couple of problems with this, though I won't post them unless you ask. However, in response to your specific questions::
- I've never seen it so I wouldn't know. I didn't recognize anything from all the examples for it I've seen on trope pages, so it's not hugely obvious, at least.
- No. I read them more as Vitriolic Best Buds.
- Not in the slightest.
Again, I did see some issues with it, but IMO you're in the clear on those specific concerns.
Again, if you see any problem other than the most obvious, do tell me. I'm editing this on the go, so any feedback would be very appreciated.
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Okay, then. First thing that jumped out at me: this sentence.
Unless you're into verbing words, "sterned" makes no sense whatsoever.
The rest of these comments were more or less scribbled down as I read it. A lot of them are stylistic, so take this as personal preferences for the most part, not "objective" criticism.
The first paragraph seems to be written in a little more of a "high style" tone then everything else.
This reads oddly. I think it may actually be grammatically correct, but it certainly looks as if it should be "testify to that".
I would insert a comma between "year" and "when" here.
about... it?
On a more off-topic note, Agnochroth's wildest fantasies are... a little odd.
One thing that needs clarification at some point, though I don't necessarily think it's needed here - are the dragons of this particular verse bipedal, quadrupedal, both? Some of the body language and other elements - read: dancing - seem rather humanoid.
Such a gesture, you mean? And "earnt" certainly has my pseudomedievalism-sense tingling.
I'm reading a bit of stylistic dissonance between the first and second halves of this sentence.
Again, a weird mixture of modern idiom and highfalutin' language.
Might just be a personal thing, but I always place a comma in phrases like that: "hi there, Ferra".
Someone who cannot remember that a "that" belongs between "off" and "thick" has no business throwing insults.
I would drop the bolded "well" and "only". They just don't seem to flow well to me.
Several things here. "None the less" looks... very odd, even if it may not be technically correct. How about "no less"? And the second sentence is just plain messy. Changing tense? "A most violent of reply"?
Missing punctuation.
Her better what? Instincts?
Before he lazily...?
Needs a space between the " and 'he'.
Dwarven ale, huh? I swear I'd pay money just to see some teetotaler dwarves, for once. More relevantly, what exactly do you mean by "other dragons both good and might"?
I've noticed you've consistently put extra space between the comma and quotation marks. This may or may not be correct, but it's not something I do either way.
Do dragons have more then one? If not, typo.
I'm now getting very subjective, but I do not like the name "Prince Faegard". Don't know why, just don't. Also, this entire passage is suffering from overuse of descriptions to refer to the characters (do we have a trope for that?) - "the gold dragon", "the silver dragon". Tone it down a little.
Actually writing out a cheer rubs me the wrong way. Again, stylistic thing.
I'd guess you meant "not a very wise move" here.
Either you have just misused "literally" or this guy has no life whatsoever.
Auroferra remarked, shaking her head. To which Agnochroth responded with yet another hearty smile.
This doesn't really work in terms of spacing.
To sum up:
Again, you seem to be trying too hard to use "high style" faux medieval language in a lot of places, which makes for some rather convoluted sentences and clashes weirdly with some of the more modern language that crops up in the dialogue. Unless this is some kind of deliberate stylistic parody, you should probably tone it down some.
Having read through it again, Auroferra does come off as somewhat tsundere, though I don't know how you'd define "too much".
Overall, I would give this a solid B/B+ - not bad, but could use improvement, especially with those nagging little grammatical details.
edited 2nd Sep '11 2:52:46 AM by nrjxll
First, thanks for your helpful hints. I appreciate that a great deal. I don't have dedicated readers/editors these days, so thanks a lot!
Now, on to a few points I'd like to explain further to address regarding the comments.
The reason why my particular breed of dragons can dance is because they can and will spend extensive lengths of time in a humanoid form of their choice, owing to a variety of reasons, up to and including personal security, discretion and conservation of energy. This will be explained and expanded upon in the next chapter, where our protagonist goes into the city.
As for the language, this is the thing I am worried the most. See, this is my problem. I have no idea how to write in the more elegant medieval-esque tone. Hence, I could say that half of the dialogue are just a form of... placeholders, if you will, until I've learnt how to better grasp the style.
Finally, the stereotypical part: I intended for everything in my world to be stereotypical, except for a few things (the elven society being modeled after the Holy Roman Empire rather than being the typical druidic treehuggers being the most notable aversion). This includes our Scottish-accented, piss-drunk, mine-dwelling dwarves. This is so as to bring a greater degree of genre-breaking contrast into play as soon as the robots begin to come in.
So, out of the major points you mentioned, the only thing I truly feel worried about is the language and the styles. This is not something I can pick up in a day or two, but every little bit helps.
Again, thanks for your time and insight - I really appreciate that.
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To your three questions:
- Not sure what you consider too obvious. I think that the average person who has watched NGE will probably notice it, but that's it. It's basically the "dance like you want to win" line that makes the connection. I mean, the previous stuff is obvious if you know it's a reference, but I only noticed when I read that line. If you had put the line before the previous paragraph, it would have been more obvious. Perhaps what you consider too obvious.
- Again, depends on what you mean. I'd say that yes, actually. She reminded me immediately of that type of character.
- No, I wouldn't say that.
Hmm... which actually begs my question regarding that second part: Is drawing close to the Tsundere model necessarily a bad thing, when what I wanted to convey is a slightly arrogant and headstrong female character who outright cannot stand the protagonist's bad habits, being an old friend aside?
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![[up]](https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/smiles/arrow_up.png "[up]"){kind=icon}
That is what's coming across to me. The reason I said Vitriolic Best Buds before is because that is a case where both parties like each other - romantically or not - and know it, whereas the stereotypical Tsundere refuses to admit - even to herself - that she likes the other party of the relationship. Auroferra's mannerisms - like slapping our protagonist awake - do read as tsundere, but at no point did I get the impression that they were not openly friends.
TL; DR: Her behavior is tsundere-like, but she doesn't display the denial of her feelings that would make her actually be one.
That would be good, since I am trying my darnedest to avoid that "I hate you but I secretly want to bang you" vibe. It does help that this will be the last time in quite a long time (as in, several books' worth of words) you'd hear of this gold dragon lass. 
Sorry for the funny topic title. This is supposed to be that page where I post my novel for the lulz, but I am afraid that the title I've reserved for novel itself is rather bland. So I chose one that would most accurately sum up the most striking points in my concept.
As I've said elsewhere, this is an attempt to make a large genre crossover (akin to, but slightly different from, crossing over Total War, Twilight, Eragon, Super Robot Wars, School Days and a number of KeyAni games) with the goal of making fun of at least half of the source material.
The original premise is simple enough: A dragon and his rider from a largely standard Tolkienesque fantasy setting is whisked from their word and dropped head-first into a Gundam-esque Earth vs. Colony wars in an alternate universe of our world. The main source of conflict is derived from the collision between these two polar opposite worlds and milk it for all it is worth.
Well, at least that is what I want it to be. At this point, 16000 words in, and the dragon and his rider has not left their comfortable Standard Fantasy Setting yet. I do hope it will take off in due time. In the meantime, my scripts are in severe needs for critique and editing.
Though, before I post anything on the site, I must ask everyone: Is anyone interested in this premise at all?
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