The Bladeforge (comments)

[HuManBing]

And so the hunt ends, a decade and a half after Malchior's final command was given. The final casualty count, as I make it, is nineteen:

1. Natroch-gar
2. Confessional priest at the wayside temple
3. Clerk priest at the wayside temple
4. Head priest at the wayside temple
5. Brigadier Trammelstern
6. A writer at Selbinwood
7. Remigerius
8. Cleera
9. Novice priest in the outlying village
10. Salwen
11. Veshal
12. Salwen's whore
13. Veshal's whore
14. Front door guard at Alicov's
15. Upstairs guard at Alicov's
16. Door priest at the Undercroft
17. Drasten
18. Drasten's lieutenant
19. Priest at the altar

Not all of them are actually dead, but it's not for want of trying.

I'd be interested in what readers think of Drachlortan. I had a couple of inspirations for his character, but I don't know if he's believable or compelling. I tried to include enough evidence to show he faces obstacles and surmounts them in dogged pursuit of his mission.

This will lead to obvious character comparisons for Hawk himself later on.

[HuManBing]

I am thinking of rewriting two entries. I will probably do this before writing any more new ones.

I will post the "original" versions of the entries here in this thread, so as to have some record of them. Then I will go and edit the entries directly in the story thread for continuity.

The two posts are:

1. The "talking to himself in the bath" post. I feel it's funny from a postmodernist literary criticism point of view. But, it will be hard to make the Hawk shade seem realistic or scary if its first appearance is done in such a comical way. So I'll rewrite it to be considerably darker and for Hawk to react in a way that is more in keeping with Strahd and Azalin, both of whom interact with a dark and nameless power long before they enter Ravenloft.

This is the original version of the updated post:

That night, Alicov came to me again and woke me up after about an hour's sleep, riding me like a horse until I jolted awake.

"Oh, heavens, not this again," I said to the darkness.

I got wearily out of bed and then remembered something. My underpants didn't have a hole in the back - only in the front. Maybe I could outwit Alicov's mischievous spirit.

I took off my underpants and then reversed them, front to back, so there was no opening in the front for her to exploit. Thus prepared, I got back to bed again.

Sure enough, once my eyes were closed, Alicov snuck into bed with me, and then reached down.

"What have you done?" she asked, her smile gone.

"Haha!" I said. "Pants on backwards! No more lever-of-sufficient-length for you!"

She pulled my pants down. "Haha! Pants round ankles! More than sufficient lever for me!"

I opened my eyes again and huffed angrily. She was gone, but my pants were indeed around my ankles.

"Damn it. Damn it all."

I trudged over to the bathroom and sat down with my chin resting on my arm, against the edge of the tub. I let the faucet run until my body up to my shoulders was underwater.

I nodded off, and Alicov hovered next to the tub.

"Come on, turn over," she said plaintively. "Just once. For me."

I turned over, and she jumped on. Just as soon, she jumped off again, cursing at the water.

"Arrrgh!" she shouted. "What's with you and cold baths?!"

"Man cannot live on bread and water alone," I said. "Most physicians recommend eight to nine hours of sleep."

"I'll show you," she said, and then disappeared in a puff of exasperated logic.

* ~ * ~ *

I woke up in the tub, still hours to go before dawn, freezing. Something was riding me, making panting noises like an animal.

"Alicov?" I asked. I looked through the darkness, and saw a female form. But this wasn't Alicov. It was too slender, the breasts too small. It was almost like...

"Hi, Cov'," Sootri said, in between sighs of passion.

I gasped and threw her off with a mighty splash. She looked at me, a wicked smile of lust on her face, everything else except a single eye obscured behind her fringe of brown hair.

"What in Hiteh's name are YOU doing here?" I gasped.

"I'm here to give you a message, Cov', " she said.

I fished for my sword, outside the tub. I wondered if I was dreaming.

"I'm your subconscious, and I'm pissed," she said.

"My... what?" I asked.

"I'm a narrative reification of the contextual dialogical construct you call your inner monologue," she said. "And don't bother with the sword. You left it back in your room."

"Whaaaat?!" I said. "I didn't understand a single thing you just said. Except for the bit about the sword, which is actually quite a good point and one I'll commit to memory for safety's sake."

She sighed. She shook her head and her face disappeared entirely behind her hair.

"I'm you," she said, in a man's voice.

Her breasts disappeared and a patchwork of scars appeared on her chest, which swelled out to the size of a brawny barrel complete with strong, tight pectorals. Muscles gleamed in the darkness beneath the water drops of the bath.

"Oh, gods," I swallowed. "I'm going insane. This is it. I'm officially mad."

"No," he said. "You're not. Not yet. But you want something really bad, and it's a good bet you're going to go mad if you don't get it."

I tried to get out of the bath but my limbs were too cold. I stalled for time.

"Hey, your voice doesn't sound like mine," I said. "I call bullshit. You're not me."

"Yeah, that's because you hear yours through sinuses and turbinates inside your head," he said. "Believe me, I'm you, and the voice you're hearing is how everybody else hears you."

I was shocked. "Wow. My voice sounds awful," I said.

The apparition shook its hair, now a golden color, like my own, away from its face. I saw my own face looking back at me, clear eyes gazing on either side of an imposing hooked nose, and regarding me with a cool dispassion.

"Tell me about it," he said.

I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Look, you have a job to do, and that's good and all," the ghost said. "But you've been denying your physical lusts for too long. When all the other boys were learning about girls you shut yourself away in the training grounds and sublimated your libido. Although that made you into a really good warrior, it's time to open the dams and let some of the floodwaters run. If you don't, you're going to end up doing something really weird and creepy, like having sex with corpses. I mean, how old were you before you tumbled that Alicov woman anyway?"

I stopped. That was a really good question. I started counting years.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Do you?"

"How in Hiteh should I know? I'm you, you moron," it said.

"You knew all those fancy words about dialogical reifications and stuff," I said, a trifle defensively.

"I don't know what they mean, actually," it confessed. "I just heard Alicov say them on the wagon when she was talking about writing stories." It brightened. "But they do sound impressive, don't they?"

It caught itself and waved a phantom hand irritably.

"But, but, but, that's beside the point," it said. "The point is that Alicov is a really amazing woman and you should get yourself out of here as soon as possible and into her."

It thought.

"...life. Into her life," it amended.

I looked at it suspiciously.

"Have you been dressing up as her and riding me all these nights?" I asked.

It looked evasive. "I might be. Who's asking?"

I slung water at it angrily.

"You prick!" I said. "It's thanks to you that I'm here, tit-deep in freezing water, every sodding night!"

"Be quiet, you'll wake the others," it said.

"No I won't. This is all a dream, and in just a few minutes I'll wake up and the priests will give me a bloody gold medal for sleeping in cold water yet again because of your dumb ass," I said angrily.

The ghost floated up to me. I punched it, but my hand went straight through it.

"Look, go find Alicov. She really likes you. She thinks you're something special, and you agree that she's great for you too. Go to her and see if she can share her life with you," the ghost said, in a sudden fit of touching earnestness.

Its heartfelt entreaty moved me. "You're right," I said. "She's really something special. I never thought women were even worth my time until I met her. Maybe I love her. There's only one way to tell."

The ghost patted my shoulder. "That's the spirit. And... slip her one from me while you're at it."

"Screw you," I said hotly.

"Actually you have been, the past couple of nights," it said. "Not that I haven't been enjoying it. But this is only going to get worse and I don't want to come by and find you shacking up with a corpse or a chicken or anything because you're too proud to admit you need a woman."

"You pervert, I haven't even thought about doing those things till you put them in my head," I said.

"But I'm you," it protested. "If I think of something, you must have thought of it too. That's how this game works."

I finally regained control of my limbs and slowly climbed out of the water. My hands were shaking and my feet were still numb and I slipped several times. "What is this crap?" I said.

"Sleep paralysis," the ghost said helpfully. "It occurs when the brain awakes from a dreaming state, but the bodily paralysis persists. This leaves the person fully conscious, but unable to move. In addition, the state may be accompanied by terrifying hallucinations (hypnopompic or hypnagogic) and an acute sense of danger. [citation needed] "

I looked at it.

"This isn't particularly terrifying, nor do I feel any sense of danger," I said.

"True, but remember this," the ghost said. "In all my visitations to you, I've been kind enough to adopt the role of the female sex. Next time I come back, I may not be so accommodating, especially if you don't get your butt over to Alicov's as soon as possible."

It fixed me with a penetrating glare. "You may find out exactly how it feels to be on the receiving end of what I will euphemistically call my 'largesse'," it said.

Now this was both terrifying and dangerous, I decided.

"What does that even mean?" I asked, stalling for time again. "It keeps cropping up but nobody tells me."

The spirit scratched its beard.

"I think it means generosity, or kindness," it said. "You know, like when Alicov let you stay at her room and stuff."

"Oh, okay. That's what I thought it meant."

"...-but here it means my manhood, my woman-maker, my wedding tackle. You know that, don't you?" it said quickly, by way of clarification.

"I figured. So what does euphemistically mean?"

"Now you're changing the subject," it said. "Your arse is mine unless you get a bloody move on."

"Okay, gods, let me get some sleep would you? That woman goes like a fiddler's elbow. I'll need a good night's rest before I can even hope to tackle her."

"You have until the end of this week," the shade said. "I'm sorry to have to threaten you like this, but this is seriously for your own good."

It left through the closed bathroom door, and I looked around, blinking.

"Bugger me," I said softly.

* ~ * ~ *

Prasti saw me at the dining room.

"Sleeping in the bathtub again?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I keep nodding off."

I stopped him. "We don't have anything till next week, right?" I asked.

"So far as I know."

"Okay," I said. I picked up an apple.

"You okay, Hawk?" he asked. "You look a little pale."

I leaned heavily against the table.

"I had some... weird dream," I said, trying to recall. "Something really bad is going to happen if I don't do something really important."

Prasti chucked my shoulder.

"If it's anything I can help with, let me know, eh?" he said.

I sat down, unable to remember. But filled with a burning desire to see Alicov again. I lay down and took a nap in the morning sunlight.

* ~ * ~ *

"Hey, it's me again."

"Oh Hiteh, you said you'd wait till the end of the week!"

"No, no, no. Just got an answer for you. Nineteen."

"Eh?"

"Nineteen. You were a virgin for nineteen years before you met Alicov. I think, anyway. I may have missed a winter here or there but I think my counting's legitimate."

"Oh. Um... is that late?"

"Is that late! Look, it's late even for a post-industrial society where the usual age of sexual contact is sixteen point nine. Although they don't say whether the point nine is literally point nine, or maybe just nine months. There's also some variance by ethnicity but that would only adjust your number down, not up. In a pre-industrial agrarian society it's like... bloody ancient."

"Oh. What's the average for the pre... the pre... the other type of society?"

"Thirteen for girls, maybe fourteen for boys. And you thought Prasti started so early by tumbling that farmer's daughter at thirteen."

"Wow. Did Alicov tell you all this?"

"Actually not this time, no. I'm getting my information from elsewhere."

"Hmm. I'd better get on with it then hadn't I?"

"Yes. I'll let you get some sleep."

* ~ * ~ *

I woke up, stretched, and felt unaccountably rested. I fed some morsels to the preybirds outside the window, and put on my good clothes.

I was overcome with an intense desire to see Alicov again. To hear her laugh, to feel her in my arms.

Reaching through my memory, I called for the single sentence she told me. It came readily to mind from my forebrain:

Hawkbluff Overlook, Twenty-three Falcon's Way, Alicov Book Publishers, in her clear and precise voice. I could even see her finger spelling out the letters on her card.

I took the card with me just in case, and stepped out, my paces bending towards the warehouses and tradesmen of the Overlook District, an unaccountable lightness in my step.

2. The showdown scene with Drachlortan. I think it's a bit anticlimactic, and I want to rewrite it so the fight goes on for longer and is much more dangerous and dramatic.


That's all for the time being. I will make a few alterations to this post as I edit the relevant posts in the story thread, and as promised I will quote the old versions here just in case my readers think they were more enjoyable than the revised versions. I expect to finish these sometime this coming weekend.

Final edit: I decided to leave Drachlortan's fight scene the way it was. I made a couple of small edits, but it's more or less what I wanted in the first place. So it stays.

[HuManBing]

I have finally changed the entry where Hawk has his dream encounter. The new entry is much darker. The old entry is one that I still like, but it's not really in keeping with the story. The new entry is completely rewritten and is no longer related to the old. So I saved the old for posterity's sake above.

I made a few edits here and there for continuity's sake. I also added a few details to the Drachlortan fight in the final post.

I haven't posted a new post yet beyond what is up, but a new one is coming soon. I got a few more ideas and I want to get the damn story finished and done with.

Edit: And now the latest installment is indeed up. A brief look into Drachlortan's head.

[HuManBing]

A new post in the story. Hawk's troubles take a legal turn.

[HuManBing]

David Lodge once wrote that in fiction, people spend more time having sex than raising children, but in real life it's usually the other way around.

This latest post rectifies that imbalance. In the hiatus since my last comment post, Hawk has gotten married and learns that Allie is expecting a child. Both are considerable benefits to his legal case but may come with significant consequences for years to come.

In writing the trial, I wanted to avoid technical legal jargon as much as possible. But anybody familiar with the trial of Oscar Wilde should be able to feel some sympathy for Hawk and Allie, who have their own private passions "bruited about the rooftops".

[HuManBing]

The court trial comes to an end. Several of the things that happened in it are not uncommon in courtroom situations. A few others are pretty rare but they do happen. The fight between the lawyers, who throw stuff at each other, is an example of this. (My professor told us of an almost exact same situation from his youth as a public prosecutor, when he was the one throwing the chair.)

Storywise, Hawk emerges from the court trial still viable, but not quite unscathed. He'll be putting in penance to the Temple.

Additionally, the priests lament the fact that they are reduced to having actual trials instead of being able to just use divine magic to determine guilt and innocence. It used to be that they could call upon their gods to aid them, but now the gods are silent.

[HuManBing]

Re-reading the story, I have noticed a lot of the posts are irregularly paced. Some are very long, others are very short. Some end on a strange mid-plot note, others end nicely at a logical chapter break.

I am going through the posts I've made and rejigging them so they read more naturally. I'm also moving the entire first post ("I still remember my first sword") into the very-short second post. The first post is going to be used for a title page, with links to every post below in a table-of-contents style layout.

The final thing I'm doing is I'll be splitting the entire work into chapters and parts. There is still a lot left to be written (I estimate I'm between halfway and 2/3s of the way through my outline) so I'll necessarily have to go back and alter the first post, but I still think that would be better than the unnavigable mess the fiction piece is currently in.

As my input to the rest of this site (and Ravenloft in general) dwindles, I still want to finish this story. It's one of the few epic-length pieces of work I've really enjoyed doing, and I fully intend to bring it to its conclusion.

[Manofevil]

I'd hardly call it a 'unnavigable mess'. I thought it flowed pretty well from one part to the next. You're right about the inconsistency of length of posts, but otherwise you've written a pretty good running story so far. That said, I respect your right to improve upon this fine piece of work. Don't know as I look forward to reading it all again. I mean it's long. but it's great.

[HuManBing]

Dude, no need to go back and re-read stuff. Haha! That would hurt. A lot!

But good to know you're still reading it. Every time I come back, the thread's post count has incremented up, but I don't know if that's actual readers or some sort of spy bot. (The forum has had spammers and I suspect some of them may use automated search things to look at threads.)

Either way, my changes to the old text are just stylistic, for structure and layout. There are no noteworthy substantive changes, except what I've noted in this thread. From what I can remember, the main changes were:

1. Cob's execution scene, when he wakes up to find himself in the stocks.

2. Hawk's "Dark Voices" dream sequence, which used to be a bizarre sexual confrontation with Alicov, his sister, and finally himself.

3. Hawk's showdown with Drachlortan in the Temple altar hall.

None of these were made during 2009, so you should be fine.

Either way, glad to hear you're still with the story!

[HuManBing]

Also, there is a new post up in the Bladeforge fiction thread.

It doesn't look like it, but there is. I moved the final post up one, and then edited the final post with a completely new entry.

So go have a look at it.


We've reached the point where Hawk gets a surprising wedding gift, via Allie.


Edit: Several new posts, including Hawk's incognito return to Forg as a Temple sword.

The other thing is I've gone through and center-aligned all the passage breaks and the main book part titles.

It uses the

New code put in by Gonzoron of the FoS

Thanks a bunch, Gonzoron! ^_^

[ewancummins]

I've begun reading the story. Interesting stuff! I like your depiction of Thenol.

[HuManBing]

Glad to hear it! It's been in the writing for about two years now, so I'm hoping I'll get it finished soon. I'd be very interested to hear any feedback you have, too!


In the latest installment, Hawk helps Stalvan ferret out a mole in the Temple bureaucracy at Flex. He comes home to a piece of very good news, too.



I'm currently doing research for the next few installments. I do not think I can write convincingly on Hawk's domestic situation without some insights from real-life friends who've been through it.

[HuManBing]

I finished talking to my friends who recently had kids. I don't have any kids myself, so I'll admit the latest post is a bit of creative extrapolation. Hopefully it's reasonably convincing.

Stalvan has a few more Temple troubles that he shares with Hawk.

[HuManBing]

Hawk ties up another loose end in Flex.

[HuManBing]

Pogroms are not easy. Hawk starts one.