I'd totally be interested in something historically oriented, here's a writing sample!
Above the Southern Gate into Bal'vold, Evening.
In front of Colonel Andrew Moore stood five thousand men. Their dark eyes shined by the torch light that flickered between the masses, reflected from their armor, and projected around. Each man was silent as a corpse, and he bet many would end the night like that. Still, the Colonel took a deep breath, watching his men with a mixture of pride, and a sad realization. This was all he had left, half of his ten thousand were either in the grave, or had fled home, and quite honestly, he wished to join them. This was an impossible feat, to take the city of Bal'vold, and though his superiors told him they were winning, he did not believe it. This stubborn and wretched land was made of mud, and fought as hard against them as the dwarves. It seemed like he was forever being outflanked, forever loosing troves of men to the damned forests, and the fabled beasts of legend that apparently inhabited it. Of course, the sensible Moore knew better then to believe such nonsense, but it was quite haunting, still, and in his moments of doubt, often he'd catch himself remarking on how those glowing balls of light, obviously some sort of exotic relative to their fireflies, in some light, seemed to be surrounding a tiny body. And if you listened, it seemed like the chiming laughter of a child. But that was the talk of fools, for everyone knew there was no such thing as magic, and Fae.
"Men!" He'd begin, shaking away the thoughts of what craziness surrounded him, and deepening his voice, reassuring, and in every respect, that of a natural born leader. These were his men, and he had one final chance to lead them. The General had given him his ultimatum, the southern door into Bal'vold fell tonight, or the King would be giving them an unpleasant visit. He thought he could fear nothing more, until the messenger informed him that his family would be receiving one shortly after, and that awoke a whole knew form a terror to the man, who did not even realize he could be so fearful.
"Men!" Once more, he repeated, before his speech began, " Tonight, we take the southern gates of Bal'vold, you and I will stride into Bal'vold, and we shall secure it in the name of our brave King. As we speak, our brethren are securing the Eastern, Western, and even the Great Northern gates. And they're waiting oh-so patiently for us, to knock down these midget-savage's door, and burn this fucking city from the ground up."
A roar of approval erupted, men battered their shields together, their swords, a rumbling of bodies, a smack of steel on steel, leather on leather. They were ready to destroy this city, after many failed campaigns, they were ready to see into the great underground city of Bal'vold, and bring these dwarven shits to their knees. Raising his hand, the men quieted, and Moore gave a grin, " Many of you probably have heard that Jewelstine has fallen. In the south, those fucks are going home, while we stand here and rot, a thousand miles away from a decent bed, and our lonely wives. If we're not quick, I bet the lot of them will be keepin' our women company soon 'nough, the lucky bastards. Know what I say to that? I think it's time we go home too, I think it's 'bout time Bal'vold falls." Another roar came, louder this time, as the man drew his sword, and hopped from the raise platform. They'd shout, in joy, in rage, readying themselves for battle. It was good of them to do so, because less then a hundred meters away, the desolate cave that led to the underground city of Bal'vold stood. Hoping on a well trained horse, Moore gestured them forward, and in an unorganized and barbaric mass, they'd rush forward. It was time to meet with their brethren in the center of Bal'vold, it was time to go home.
--
Corporal Andrew Moore lay bashed and bloody on the stony ground, his horse had been shot from beneath him, and was screeching loudly to his side, the man having luckily flown far enough away to have not been crushed beneath it, but he'd been thoroughly trampled by his own men during the battle, the cave opening into a massive cavern. Intricately carved stone walls rose to the ceiling, with only tiny slits for a Dwarven archer or cannon to shoot from. One massive door rose nearly as high, of a thick and weathered wood. Lifting his head, Andrew's vision spun, and he'd feel an urge to vomit, however, he'd fight it, listening to the screams of beast and man alike, and scattered around were the dead and dying.
Had they made it at least, had they done it? He urged himself to sit up, but as he did, and looked toward those massive iron-banded doors, he saw that they were closed, and once more his vision spun, and he'd vomit down his front. Interestingly enough, as he stared down at himself, he was covered in a mixture of his own blood, and his horses. He found a few arrows poking through his thigh and stomach, and laid back miserably. He was going to die. Though, oddly enough he felt no pain, rather a soothing numbness. Every sense told him he should be screaming, but instead, in the dimness of the cavern, he reflected on his life. Most notably, he thought of how he had not struck down a single dwarf, and felt a bit of regret with that. Somewhere in the back of his mind...he knew that the gates not opening would be bad...The King-..his mind whispered, but then he felt like laughing.
What could the King do now? He was going to die-...Then horror struck him, and the man tried to sit up once more, his eyes painfully opening...and his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His family...By the Gods...
In front of Andrew, a pale face looked over him...his wife-..wasn't it? With white hair, and white eyes...No, his wife had hair of copper...and her eyes were green. This girl-...it must be his daughter then. The man smiled to her, and she smiled back, cradling him against her lap, yes..it was his daughter, she had gotten big, when he'd seen her last, she'd just been in a cradle. His mind fumbled over that, she should only be a toddler, but this girl looked older. Parts of him reminded that there was no time to be worrying about that. He'd try to raise a hand, to touch her face, cooing weakly, " Coleen..." The girl nodded, lightly pushing his hand away, and he obeyed.
"Hello Corporal...What is your name?" She'd ask cheerily, and the man puzzled. Shouldn't his daughter know her own fathers name? But he chided himself soon after, how silly, she was just a baby, how would she know his name.
After blinking up at him, and releasing a sigh, feeling comforted against her lap, and wondering why he'd sat up at all, the man answered, " Corporal Andrew Moore, dear." He'd croak out, and his daughter smiled once more, which pleased him.
Then, her eyes went dark, and this made him cringe, " Rest now, You have lost the battle." He nodded, knowing his daughter was disappointed, and when she lowered her lips to his, he'd think it to be a kiss, but then..the world went black, and he felt his body cringe, and the pain became suddenly realize, then vanish...tears coming to his body, but he was soothed once more. Her voice cooed despite her lips against his, urging him to close his eyes, to let go. He was eager to let go, feeling himself go limp, and soon, and felt nothing, saw nothing, said nothing. Of course, he did not realize he was dead, Isa had to look at the withered corpses of an old man, shrunken in his proud uniform, and covered in a mixture of his own blood and vomit. Disgusted, the Witch pushed him away, noting his name.
Zarr would not reach him in time, but there were three more idiots that did survive this pathetic attempt at taking the city. Only one door had even opened, the eastern gate was rammed opened, and the force entered the city, eager to meet with the other three, however, that did not happen. And just as quickly as the doors had opened, they closed...and two thousand men were trapped inside, without any hope of escape, within an hour, they were either taken prisoner, or killed once the dwarves ran out of place to keep them. Her master would not much like this defeat, and she supposed it was about time for her to return, and tell him. Glancing around at all the dead and dying, the witch picked a rather young man, with a gash across his belly.
If any medics were coming to retrieve the living, which they weren't, the boy may have a chance. If he was really ambition, he may even be able to crawl to safety, but Isa would reach him much sooner, at her touch, he stopped screaming, and looked startled at her, murmuring, "Mum?"
She'd nod along, sighing, and with a few minutes, she'd leave another shrunken old man on the battlefield, wrinkled and liver-spotted. His white hair clutching desperately to his head and chin, and skin hanging from his bones. That was enough for now, and within a moment, it was as if the Witch had never been there, all that was left were two impossibly old corpses.
I was surprised at Kassie’s response to my question. I thought, since she hadn’t said anything earlier that she was ignoring us altogether. Zora took the opportunity to slice into her. I wondered only briefly about the animosity between them.
It was the question on everyone’s mind but this woman, the first person to actually ask. Gabriel assumed I was innocent. The police assumed I was guilty. ”No.” I said. ”But that doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Neither one of them answered right away and the room grew quiet again. We all knew how things went in Restraint. You were guilty until proven innocent and sometimes you were guilty regardless. As long as we kept our noses clean and our questions to ourselves, the government would take care of us. Only that clearly wasn’t true, was it?
Time ticked by slowly. I felt the weight of the day and eventually lied down. The hard cement floor wasn’t comfortable and the lights in the ceiling, which I first though had been too dim were now uncomfortably bright. I curled in on myself, my back pressed against the closest wall. I thought fleetingly how I might have been more comfortable if I turned around but I honestly didn’t trust my fellow inmates enough to give them my back.
”How long do you think they’ll keep us here?” I asked to no one in particular.
Zora got to my question first. ”Hours. Days. Years. As long as the bastards like. Why, you have some place to go, Angel?” Her crooked smile glittered blue in the light. I didn’t respond except to close my eyes. Then I was out.”Louisa Essiar?” My name brought me back into the reality of my situation. I didn’t know how long I’d laid there on the floor but I couldn’t remember dreaming. All I knew is that I was less tired than before but more stiff. My sleeping arrangements were a far cry from my foam mattress and feather pillow.
”Yes?” The voice was male, and I realized it came from behind the metal door. Around me my companions also stirred.
”Louisa Essair, please come to the door. You are to be escorted out.” His words were void of emotion but his voice sounded young.
”Coming,” I said, standing up, straightening my dress and dusting dirt off my bear arms and legs. Perhaps if I had known, I would have chosen a different outfit, but then if I had known… my mind leapt back to the memory of Gabriel and me in his car even while my feet carried me to the door. My heart ached at the memory. I shouldn’t have stopped him.
”Am I being released?” I asked, trying to swallow down the hope that radiated through my voice. I could feel my body tremble with expectation.
”Please put your arms through the open flaps on the door.” I immediately complied. With a jerk, he spun my arms around so my wrists were up towards the ceiling. Cold metal clamped down on my arms. The weight of them was as heavy as the weight in my heart. There would be no freedom from me. After making sure the other two women were against the back wall, he released my shackles and I pulled my arms back through. A large metal bar connected them together, making it impossible for me to rotate them back into a more comfortable position. The cell door swung open, a hand reached through and grabbed that metal bar, and I was pulled through.
”Follow me,” the same man, tugged on my shackles forcing me to keep up or risk falling on my face. With my hands braced like this, I couldn’t even catch myself if I tripped.
”Where are we going?” I asked as we walked down a thin cement hallway, every now and then passing doors identical to the one in my cell. ”Do I have a visitor?”
He ignored me. Eventually I gave up and continued to follow him through the maze of passageways. I tried to remember the way we’d gone, just in case, but the hallways were all identical and soon I lost track. Every now and then I could have sworn I heard whispers or a quiet moan, but it was in the distance and muffled by the heavy tread of my escort. My own feet where bare and noiseless. I couldn’t remember losing my shoes. They must have taken my heels off before I got to my cell.
We stopped in front of a metal door, only this one didn’t have a series of latches. The guard opened the door for me and I stepped inside. An older man was sitting at a computer desk. His wrinkled hands peeking out from under a pristine white lab coat. Across from him was a black leather lounge chair. The rest of the room was barren cement cube. I was about to turn around and ask the guard again what was going on but I heavy click told me the effort would be in vain. The noise must have startled the old man at the desk because he finally looked up.
I felt violated as his pale grey eyes lingered over me, stopping and the hem of my dressed, and just above my outstretched forearms. The man was old enough to be my grandfather. ”Please have a seat, Miss Essaire.” He motioned to the chair.
”I’d rather not,” I said, backing towards the door.
His laugh was dry and wheezy, like he’d smoked too much in his youth. ”I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to ask you a few questions.”
”I don’t believe you.” My voice sounded much more assertive than I felt.
He just smiled at my response, ”You don’t have much choice. Like I said, I only want to ask you a few questions. Give you a chance to prove your innocence. Now please, take a seat.”
I remembered what happened the last time I’d fought against my capture. The thought of another bag over my head while I was dragged to who knows where frightened me. I hesitantly walked towards the chair and sat down as he’d instructed.
Then it happened before I knew what was going on. The old man, moving faster than I could have imagined, reached out and grabbed my arm. I screamed as a sharp pain ran through the underside of my elbow and ice rushed through my veins. He let go then, and I saw there was an empty needle in his right hand. I wanted to hit him but instead I slumped back into the chair, my body feeling unnaturally heavy.
”Now Miss Essair,” he said, his face floating just out of my view, ”We’re going to start with some simple questions first and then work our way from there. Alright?”
I've selected the following sample because it shows how I like to use NPCs. Also, since I posted it a few days ago, you can verify its authenticity. For clarification sake, my character is Ryen while my partner's is Lazlo.
I’m not really sure to say about it. I’m not really sure who to blame. Lazlo? Gunther? Ellie? Quincy…? Or myself… because I knew better… I yelled at him. I told him it was his fault. It wasn’t though. No one could have seen it coming.
Shortly after being seated, Lazlo started questioning the crew about their familiarly with the new technology he’d given them.”…Is that correct?” Lazlo prompted. Gunther, Ellie, and Quincy responded in the affirmative. Seita didn’t seem to hear the question while Ryen simply sighed out. ”Well enough.” Next the captain began briefing them over deep space and their final destination.
Quincy wasn’t the only one who was concerned about the travel time. From the look of shock on everyone’s face, no one expected the time frame to last that long. Well, no one except for maybe Seita who was taking the news in stride. That or she was very hungry. Or both. Probably both. Still almost everyone else looked as excited as she felt to be stuck with just the six of them for possibly the next two years to say nothing of going to the Federation’s High Council.
***
”Heh,” Quincy grumbled after Lazlo disappeared of out the galley again, ”I’m second to last to being captain.” Ryen snickered a bit as the doctor got up and walked over to the replicator to order up some food. Ryen was pleased, if not a bit confused, about why she’d been ordered ahead of him but behind Ellie. However, if it ever came down to it, the prospects of being captain and stuck in deep space with only Quincy and Seita remaining was daunting. Almost as much as the idea of being on a strike team with Lazlo. On one hand the captain was obviously versed with weaponry, as he’d previously demonstrated. On the other hand, it was Lazlo. Ryen felt a tinge of jealousy for Seita being paired with Gunther.
”There…were a lot of codes.” This came from Seita.
Prompted by Seita’s words Ellie pulled up the information on the holographic screen again. There were roughly thirty in all. ”Aah,” Gunther commented after another forkful of steak, ”That’s not so many. Mind you, knowing the codes, and actually being able to do the actions they require is a different story.” Neither Ellie nor Quincy seemed phased by the amount of information but Ryen wasn’t so sure.
”It’s too bad they’re all numbers.” Ryen replied. ”For example, ‘Code Pink Whale’, is a pretty catchy name and would make it easier to memorize.” The look the rest of the crew gave her said they pointedly disagreed. ”Anyways,” Ryen continued, ”It’s not as bad as it seems, Seita. Most of them you don’t have to memorize right away since you don’t have to do anything. Like Code 0 when I have to go direct power to the oxygen area and shielding. Or Code 17 where Quincy needs to report immediately to the medical bay. It’d be good to know those ones eventually just so you know what’s going on but you probably won’t need them right away.” Ryen continued reading over the list. ”We could study together later this evening if you like.”
Seita was hesitant but eventually nodded. Ryen smiled back at her. Studying was something Ryen was well accomplished at. It was a good thing too since almost 80% of the codes pertained to either her or Gunther.
”So what is deep space like?” Quincy asked, placing a bowl of some kind of bright orange soup on the table before taking his seat. Looking around, Ellie finally answered first. ”The ship I was on had a Slipstream License so we didn’t need to spend much time in deep space but … it was very empty.” Ryen nodded her agreement. Everyone’s eyes turned to Gunther.
”It is very empty.” the solider remarked, his eyes growing distant, ”Very black. It’s a big ol’ ball of nothingness most of the time. Planets, strongholds, even other ships are few and far between. And the planets and people you do meet… well… they aren’t usually the friendly type. There’s usually a reason why the Federation’s not involved with them. Sure, there’s a few good places to stop since not everyone can afford a Slipstream License, but still. Not seeing anything at all is almost always the best kind of deep space travel. Then again, you get caught out there and you might as well be planet dust. Ain’t no one going to come to you rescue you anytime soon.” Looking up from his meal, Gunther saw the looks on the women’s faces and quickly added, ”But we'll keep our heads about us and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
An awkward painful silence fell in the galley. ”Why don’t we talk about our first stop!” Ryen offered, trying to brighten up the mood. ”Ellie, can you pull up any information on Leruta? I’ve never heard of it before.”
Shortly after, Ellie projected an image of a swirling tiny blue and tan planet. The others listed attentively as the technician timidly began to read off facts about their next destination.
***
”So, who would like to learn how to play Three Rascals?” Gunther prompted.
”I… would.” Seita said, beaming shyly. Meanwhile, Quincy stood up and stretched. ”Not me. I was up late last night. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He paused and let out a big yawn. ”Plus there’s a few things I need to check on.”
Ellie said that she would like to just watch, all the while typing away at her pad. Ryen shook her head. ”I’d like to get started studying those codes.” the mechanic said, putting the clean dinner dishes away. Seita’s face fell at the reminder. ”I… have to do something first,” Ryen suggested to the girl, ”So if you want to play a few rounds first, I can stop by and get you after I’m done.” Seita nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion.
The clock above galley door showed that the ship still had almost 45 mins before Lazlo said they would be entering deep space. Walking over to the control panel, Ryen began analyzing and tweaking the various power signatures of the subsystems.
Shielding at 82% and rising. Lock both cargo holds. Minimize life support for cargo holds. Change efficiency of galley and main living quarters. Change efficiency of communication system. Internal air temperature and hydration system balance initiated. Reactor Core temperature further stabled. Output maximized. Shielding set to be at full power in 12.728 minutes. Log off.
***
Ryen fidgeted nervously outside the captain’s cabin. Since he wasn’t in the ship’s cockpit chances were good he was inside. She buzzed in using the panel located outside of his door. ”It’s me…” she said through the voice communication system, ”Ryen… I wanted to talk to you.”
Nothing. She waited. Still nothing. Perhaps he was taking a nap? Just as she was about to turn and leave, the door slid open. From where she stood, she could see that his room was larger than hers and, rather surprisingly, had enough gadgets in it to rival her father’s smaller lab spaces. Before she could look any further, Lazlo was standing outside in the hallway and the cabin door behind him was firmly shut.
Ryen smiled uncomfortably at the man who seemed to be looming above her. Gunther who was both taller and burley never made Ryen feel this uncomfortable. Then again, Gunther hadn’t yelled at her… or shot at her either.
”As stated before,” Ryen began with a formal air, ”I wanted to speak with you. It isn’t about my father, although I’m assuming at some point you’ll want to discuss the situation in length…?” Ryen paused to give him a questioning look before quickly continuing. ”Anyways, I wanted to speak with about Seita. I don’t… I can’t agree with having Seita on the ship. It isn’t fair to her.”
Ryen let out a sigh. ”The others of us are adults. We have an idea of what we’re getting ourselves into. I just… Two year? I mean, that’s a lot and that’s just getting there. She’s so young and by doing this… think of how much she’ll miss. She should be in a school. She should be learning and interacting with people her own age. She shouldn’t have to be our scout. I know she volunteered… or at least I’m hoping she did,” Ryen paused here to give Lazlo another questioning look, ”but did you give her a choice? I mean, the rest of us had other options. And then what happens after everything is done? What’s she supposed to do then with a good chunk of her life stuck popping around deep space? I don’t… I don’t like it.”
This sample is from a combination of posts from my partner a few years ago. We completed the story and she has given me permission to edit it into a novel. While I do have all of our work, I can't give you a link to the original since it was on the original RP guild site. We wanted to do a dark, steampunk version of Alice in Wonderland but where Alice wasn't the main character.
Chapter 2 Six Impossible things Before Breakfast
Martius shuddered inwardly as the Hatter’s words tickled the back of his neck. The warmth from the hands on his shoulders sent delicious tingles down the Hare’s spine. These sensations almost clouded Martius’s thoughts. Almost. But not quite.
“We can’t break…” Marius shouted and then looked around him, his voice lowering in a paranoid fashion, ”We can’t break her out! That’s… Ethan you can’t be serious! That’s crazy!”
Martius turned around to face Ethan, their noses almost touching in the process. His heart fell when he saw the look on the Hatter’s face.
”You are serious aren’t you?” Martius groaned as he yanked his ears down to cover his face. ”Who would have thought today could have gotten any worse!?”
Perhaps reasoning would work? ”Come on Ethan, just let the idea go. I’m fine! Really! Besides, we don’t even know which cell she’s in. Or…or… how to get her out. And getting her safely will be the least of our problems if the Queen catches wind of this. You’ll probably get lucky- she’ll just lop off your head and be done with it but not me, she’ll probably let Jack torture me first. Goodness knows he’s wanted to for years.”
The pleading might have worked if Hatter hadn't been extremely bored. He just looked at the Martius, with the smile still on his face and eyebrow raised as he listened to the rabbit go on about how it was such a bad idea. But once the Hatter got something in his head, it was nearly impossible to stop him. Truthfully, Ethan could care less about the young lady who had gotten herself into a lot of trouble by running around the kingdom and talking to strangers. Really it was a blessing the Queen had found her so quickly. Being beheaded was truly one of the quickest and cleanest ways to go. But no, the real reason why Ethan wanted to rescue Alice was double fold. First he would be helping his good friend Martius feel better, (because honestly the Hare didn’t need another death on his shoulders, he was already drowning in medication). Second, as dangerous as it was, he enjoyed allowing the Queen to have her way by forcing terrible things on other people.
A sinking feeling settled into the Hare’s stomach as he peeked at the Hatter again. No matter how much Martius had begged, whined, and pleaded, the Hatter had always gone on with his crazy schemes and ever the faithful friend, the Hare always plodding along after him. Life wasn't fair, especially in Wonderland. The Hatter always seemed to get off scot free while the Hare had bills piled up through the roof, thanks to the queen's tax collectors. After all, someone had to pay for the soldier's ruined uniforms, the missing treasures, the temper tantrums. Ethan was safe, holed up in his cabin in the middle of the woods, but Martius who lived in Wonderland proper was front and center and easy pickings.
"Well, Martius, if you don't want to come, you could always just simply not come. I am going, and I am going to show Queen Red that she doesn't always get her way. Besides, I'm not going to let a friend sit here and stress about something that really isn't his problem but is going to be blaming himself for forever about." The Hatter sighed as he lifted his sword and turned to look at Martius once again. "There's whiskey in the cupboard in the kitchen if you still need that strong drink. I'll be gone a while, need to cash in a favor before I head off to the dungeons," Ethan stated as he looked at his friend. All it took would take was a simple `No, I'd rather do something else’. Ethan didn't understand why Martius continued to come even after all the times he took the time to make excuses as to why they shouldn't do something.
“I know I don’t have to come,” he said letting his ears go so that they sprung back up on their own, ”Just… please don’t use my feelings as an excuse.”
"Fine, I won't use your feelings as an excuse, I'll just say I felt like being the knight in shining armor tonight for the girl. Can't let the queen execute another poor girl without a real reason," Ethan shrugged. He didn't mind changing his excuse for what they were doing. He knew what the real reason was and that was all that really mattered.
Martius didn’t respond but instead made a show of checking the guns strapped to his waist. There was so much more he wanted to say. The Hare never understood Ethan’s recklessness, his need to chase after the skirt tails of death. Was it just because Ethan hated the Queen so much because of the past? The Hare shook his head. How he hated it, hated the danger, hated the fear. He’d rather curl up by a fire and read away the chilly nights but he would and could never let the Hatter run off on his own. For surely then Ethan would never come back.
Sweat beaded on the Hare’s forehead as the seriousness of their plans weighed heavily on his shoulders. This wasn’t some minor irritation to the queen’s armed forces, this was a direct assault to her power. ”If we don’t manage to sneak in and sneak out unnoticed” he thought, “that stupid girl won’t be the only one dying in the morning.”
I would be interested in writing a time travel story with you on Google docs or some other private pad.