Post by LehDerpyMoon on Nov 17, 2012 7:05:59 GMT -5
So I started this story about dragons. I guess it's ok so far. It does need more details, some sprucing up, etc. Feel free to critique, comment, love, or hate!
Also, I need some help with names. This is going to be a series, so I need a series name and a book name. I'm thinking of calling the series 'The Ruins of Dra'ere' because they live on a planet called Dra'ere, which is just like Earth, but all the humans have died out. As for the book name... this is where you guys come in. A little info about this book: Ixvala and some other Dragons (and maybe a few other creaturs too, who knows?) are going on a dangerous quest that revolves around the silver staff Ixvala has. So maybe it could be called 'The Silver Staff' but that's a drab name. So, suggestions for both series name and book name are welcomed and encouraged!
Also, this book is going to be from the points of veiw of several Dragons and maybe other creatures, but Ixvala is still the main character.
And if you have any suggestions that would make this easier to read, such as changing the font, please tell me.
The first chapter is short. 996 words. I KNOW. Most of the chapters will be short. LIVE WITH IT, ok? Later on, I might merge some chapters, but seeing as how this is all I have written, it's all for now.
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The Dragon soared on silent wings through the clear dawn air, sunlight glinting off her rosy, almost prismatic, scales. She scanned the snowy mountaintops below, looking for a place to make her lair. Her sharp eyes, the color of polished bronze, zeroed in on a likely spot: a deep cave in the side of a rugged sandstone cliff face on the tallest mountain. She opened her mouth, her snakelike tongue flicking in and out to help her smell the air. She bared her fangs as she caught the sour stench of Gryphon. Scenting the air again, she decided the smell was stale; at least a moon old, maybe two. The Gryphon must have left for its winter hunting grounds in the south, where it was much warmer. The Dragon grinned in delight. When it came back, it would have a mighty surprise!
She decided to land on the narrow space at the top of the cliff and then climb her way down to the cave. She extended her ragged bat-like wings to full length and angled herself so her back legs would touch the ground first. In her left forepaw she clutched a silver staff about five feet long. At the top of the staff, thin silver tendrils were woven together to form a socket for a jewel. The socket was a respectable size; a little larger than her fist. The Dragon, whose name was Ixvala (meaning ‘Singing Jewel’ in Ancient Draconian), wondered where she would find a jewel that large. She had had plenty large jewels back in her old lair in the Khanï Forest. But of course, she didn’t have access to her old lair anymore, thanks to that despicable Furysnout Akarmire. Akarmire... even his name was enough to make her snarl. She almost wished she was a Poisonskull. If so, she’d fly straight back to her lair and spit acid right in his foul face.
But I’m not a Poisonskull, she silently chided herself. I should be proud to be a Vipertail! She shook her head fiercely to abolish the thoughts so she could concentrate on landing. She flapped her wings once to slow herself, and her hindpaws gently touched the rocky surface. She extended her claws as far as they would go and managed to find purchase in many of the little niches pockmarking the uneven ground, so she wouldn’t topple backwards off the cliff. If that happened, she could just extend her wings and glide back up, but she’d learned the hard way that it was always best to not take risks. She flexed her right shoulder, which was still scarred from the time she had fallen backwards out of a tree and not been able to extend her wings enough to catch the air. The tree had gotten the worse end of the deal, seeing as how she incinerated it with a quick burst of light, but ever since then she had tried to avoid trees whenever possible.
Ixvala balanced precariously on her hind legs and brought her left forepaw up to her snout, where she gingerly took the staff in her mouth. She had to be careful: with her strong jaws, she could crush the thing like a twig. She set her forepaws down on the ground and gave a quick huff of relief. She, like most Dragons, preferred to walk on four legs. Walking on two legs (unless you were a Wyvern, who only had two legs; or an Oddtalon, whose stubby forelegs were barely strong enough to carry treasure, and would certainly collapse under the weight of a 10-ton Dragon) was just unnatural and... well, wrong.
Ixvala turned around and stared at the sheer drop before her. This may be harder than I expected, she thought unenthusiastically. She scraped her sharp claws across the ground, creating chalky gashes in the sandstone. She exhaled sharply through her nose, making a quick snorting sound of exasperation. Dragons are fliers, not climbers! she complained to herself. With another sharp exhalation, she flung herself off the cliff, unfurling her wings and flapping furiously, powering her up until she was about three hundred feet above the cliff. Most Dragons had excellent eyesight. Ixvala could still see the cave as clearly as if she was right in front of it. Back to square one, she brooded. She began to wonder why she had flung herself off the cliff in the first place. Landing on a cliff like that was cumbersome, and she didn’t want to do it again, but she would have to if she wanted to get into the cave. It’s not like I can fly in, she thought. The cave was much too narrow for her wingspan of almost thirteen feet. A sudden idea struck her, and she began a mental conversation with herself.
Say that again, she told herself.
That again, she responded snidely.
No, the thing you said before that.
The thing you said before that.
No! Say the thing about – Agh! Never mind. You said I couldn’t fly in. But there is another way, something similar.
Please, not another of your plans, she griped.
Ixvala ignored herself and angled her wings back, allowing herself to glide gently down until she was level with the cave. She made small circles with her wings, catching the air just enough to stay aloft, hovering in one place. She flew slowly forward until she was close enough to reach out and touch the cliff face. The cave loomed before her like a black gaping maw. He reached out her forepaws and let them rest on the cave floor. She crossed her eyes and managed to get a glimpse of the silver staff in her mouth. She decided the staff was short enough to fit in the cave. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils and snapped her wings sharply to her sides. At the same time, she pushed off her forelegs, propelling herself into the cave. [/center]
Also, I need some help with names. This is going to be a series, so I need a series name and a book name. I'm thinking of calling the series 'The Ruins of Dra'ere' because they live on a planet called Dra'ere, which is just like Earth, but all the humans have died out. As for the book name... this is where you guys come in. A little info about this book: Ixvala and some other Dragons (and maybe a few other creaturs too, who knows?) are going on a dangerous quest that revolves around the silver staff Ixvala has. So maybe it could be called 'The Silver Staff' but that's a drab name. So, suggestions for both series name and book name are welcomed and encouraged!
Also, this book is going to be from the points of veiw of several Dragons and maybe other creatures, but Ixvala is still the main character.
And if you have any suggestions that would make this easier to read, such as changing the font, please tell me.
The first chapter is short. 996 words. I KNOW. Most of the chapters will be short. LIVE WITH IT, ok? Later on, I might merge some chapters, but seeing as how this is all I have written, it's all for now.
-------------
Chapter 1 ~ Ixvala
[/font][/size]The Dragon soared on silent wings through the clear dawn air, sunlight glinting off her rosy, almost prismatic, scales. She scanned the snowy mountaintops below, looking for a place to make her lair. Her sharp eyes, the color of polished bronze, zeroed in on a likely spot: a deep cave in the side of a rugged sandstone cliff face on the tallest mountain. She opened her mouth, her snakelike tongue flicking in and out to help her smell the air. She bared her fangs as she caught the sour stench of Gryphon. Scenting the air again, she decided the smell was stale; at least a moon old, maybe two. The Gryphon must have left for its winter hunting grounds in the south, where it was much warmer. The Dragon grinned in delight. When it came back, it would have a mighty surprise!
She decided to land on the narrow space at the top of the cliff and then climb her way down to the cave. She extended her ragged bat-like wings to full length and angled herself so her back legs would touch the ground first. In her left forepaw she clutched a silver staff about five feet long. At the top of the staff, thin silver tendrils were woven together to form a socket for a jewel. The socket was a respectable size; a little larger than her fist. The Dragon, whose name was Ixvala (meaning ‘Singing Jewel’ in Ancient Draconian), wondered where she would find a jewel that large. She had had plenty large jewels back in her old lair in the Khanï Forest. But of course, she didn’t have access to her old lair anymore, thanks to that despicable Furysnout Akarmire. Akarmire... even his name was enough to make her snarl. She almost wished she was a Poisonskull. If so, she’d fly straight back to her lair and spit acid right in his foul face.
But I’m not a Poisonskull, she silently chided herself. I should be proud to be a Vipertail! She shook her head fiercely to abolish the thoughts so she could concentrate on landing. She flapped her wings once to slow herself, and her hindpaws gently touched the rocky surface. She extended her claws as far as they would go and managed to find purchase in many of the little niches pockmarking the uneven ground, so she wouldn’t topple backwards off the cliff. If that happened, she could just extend her wings and glide back up, but she’d learned the hard way that it was always best to not take risks. She flexed her right shoulder, which was still scarred from the time she had fallen backwards out of a tree and not been able to extend her wings enough to catch the air. The tree had gotten the worse end of the deal, seeing as how she incinerated it with a quick burst of light, but ever since then she had tried to avoid trees whenever possible.
Ixvala balanced precariously on her hind legs and brought her left forepaw up to her snout, where she gingerly took the staff in her mouth. She had to be careful: with her strong jaws, she could crush the thing like a twig. She set her forepaws down on the ground and gave a quick huff of relief. She, like most Dragons, preferred to walk on four legs. Walking on two legs (unless you were a Wyvern, who only had two legs; or an Oddtalon, whose stubby forelegs were barely strong enough to carry treasure, and would certainly collapse under the weight of a 10-ton Dragon) was just unnatural and... well, wrong.
Ixvala turned around and stared at the sheer drop before her. This may be harder than I expected, she thought unenthusiastically. She scraped her sharp claws across the ground, creating chalky gashes in the sandstone. She exhaled sharply through her nose, making a quick snorting sound of exasperation. Dragons are fliers, not climbers! she complained to herself. With another sharp exhalation, she flung herself off the cliff, unfurling her wings and flapping furiously, powering her up until she was about three hundred feet above the cliff. Most Dragons had excellent eyesight. Ixvala could still see the cave as clearly as if she was right in front of it. Back to square one, she brooded. She began to wonder why she had flung herself off the cliff in the first place. Landing on a cliff like that was cumbersome, and she didn’t want to do it again, but she would have to if she wanted to get into the cave. It’s not like I can fly in, she thought. The cave was much too narrow for her wingspan of almost thirteen feet. A sudden idea struck her, and she began a mental conversation with herself.
Say that again, she told herself.
That again, she responded snidely.
No, the thing you said before that.
The thing you said before that.
No! Say the thing about – Agh! Never mind. You said I couldn’t fly in. But there is another way, something similar.
Please, not another of your plans, she griped.
Ixvala ignored herself and angled her wings back, allowing herself to glide gently down until she was level with the cave. She made small circles with her wings, catching the air just enough to stay aloft, hovering in one place. She flew slowly forward until she was close enough to reach out and touch the cliff face. The cave loomed before her like a black gaping maw. He reached out her forepaws and let them rest on the cave floor. She crossed her eyes and managed to get a glimpse of the silver staff in her mouth. She decided the staff was short enough to fit in the cave. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils and snapped her wings sharply to her sides. At the same time, she pushed off her forelegs, propelling herself into the cave. [/center]
ƒEveryone 
