The Storm Breaks
Prolouge to my book I am looking for some views on whether or not to continue writing in this way. Before you say its confusing, the important parts are explained in chapter one (under development).
Snow fell all across Okre-vorai from the frozen tundra of Cibnoth, where the I-At clan struggles on, across the mountains βουνά so old that the names meaning has faded away leaving only memory's sealed away, but the wind whirled through the mountains leaving only a blanket of white behind as it sped onward. Reaching the hollow lands the storm fell trees and ripped apart walls stone from stone. It twisted structures of metal and destroyed crops leaving only destruction in its wake.
And in its core a small group of men fought for their lives as the ancient dance began again. A band of Taioc had broken through the barrier of Utok and fled south. A unit of men most human, the others, the once legendary Wraiths had chased them over a hundred miles. Loor, a wraith, stood taller than all but his Wraith brothers. His hair was streaked with white and his face bore the hard edge of emotionless thought, his eyes gazed out at the world like two red stones, hate locked behind them. His mind heaved and his thoughts twisted. 'This is not our fight.
We were sworn by each others blood never to fi-'. 'Hurry I can see them on the rise' a voice bellowed ahead. He felt anger rise from deep within as they neared the rise. Barley slowing they jumped from their mounts and brandished weapons. Long swords, of the finest make. Twelve Taioc sat before him each at least as tall as his wraith brothers. They only glanced at them before turning to watch an old man his arms upraised towards the sky. He seemed to emanate power, of will and ...... power. There was no other word for it. Streams of energy wisped around him before flying off into inky blackness that roamed the sky. 'He’s doing it he’s creating this storm. Heh Death is immanent and here I am grinning.
Awaiting its release'. One man ‘A human’ ran forward his sword held high his mouth open, but the wind whipped away all sound. Loor thrust his sword into the ground using it as an anchor against the wind. His brothers almost invisible in the flurry of snow that now rained down upon them did the same and watched as the Old Man his hair sitting still against his back and his robes still as death, spun round to face the man his eyes glowing as if a storm raged within and thrust one hand towards the ground. A stream of jagged spikes ran right for the helpless human. He had only time to stop before they reached him. The ground beneath him ruptured into twenty foot spikes raining gore down upon them.
Screams rang out above the wind and men fled leaving only the Wraiths knowing that only an Honorable death lay ahead stood there ground. As the men fled the old man raised his hands to the sky in one motion and then, slowly as if pulling on something brought his palms to the ground. Loor turned and watched as clouds spiraled down from the sky creating one thin swirling black and white mass as the black clouds whipped up snow from the ground. Black and White.
As it touched the ground tendrils shot out and caught the fleeing men pulling them back into the void. He looked away unable to watch as each man was brought back and ripped apart. The old man looked him in the eye. Loor could hardly hold his gaze as he watched the Old Man outstretched one hand towards him. In his palm was an orb of white energy.’ Impossible!’. A quick hand motion and the orb flew at his head knocking into the air. He hit the ground and skidded backwards the snow softening the fall. Colors swam in front of his eyes . Before slipping into unconsciousness he saw the black and white mass above him. As his vision darkened he felt himself being pulled along.
And in its core a small group of men fought for their lives as the ancient dance began again. A band of Taioc had broken through the barrier of Utok and fled south. A unit of men most human, the others, the once legendary Wraiths had chased them over a hundred miles. Loor, a wraith, stood taller than all but his Wraith brothers. His hair was streaked with white and his face bore the hard edge of emotionless thought, his eyes gazed out at the world like two red stones, hate locked behind them. His mind heaved and his thoughts twisted. 'This is not our fight.
We were sworn by each others blood never to fi-'. 'Hurry I can see them on the rise' a voice bellowed ahead. He felt anger rise from deep within as they neared the rise. Barley slowing they jumped from their mounts and brandished weapons. Long swords, of the finest make. Twelve Taioc sat before him each at least as tall as his wraith brothers. They only glanced at them before turning to watch an old man his arms upraised towards the sky. He seemed to emanate power, of will and ...... power. There was no other word for it. Streams of energy wisped around him before flying off into inky blackness that roamed the sky. 'He’s doing it he’s creating this storm. Heh Death is immanent and here I am grinning.
Awaiting its release'. One man ‘A human’ ran forward his sword held high his mouth open, but the wind whipped away all sound. Loor thrust his sword into the ground using it as an anchor against the wind. His brothers almost invisible in the flurry of snow that now rained down upon them did the same and watched as the Old Man his hair sitting still against his back and his robes still as death, spun round to face the man his eyes glowing as if a storm raged within and thrust one hand towards the ground. A stream of jagged spikes ran right for the helpless human. He had only time to stop before they reached him. The ground beneath him ruptured into twenty foot spikes raining gore down upon them.
Screams rang out above the wind and men fled leaving only the Wraiths knowing that only an Honorable death lay ahead stood there ground. As the men fled the old man raised his hands to the sky in one motion and then, slowly as if pulling on something brought his palms to the ground. Loor turned and watched as clouds spiraled down from the sky creating one thin swirling black and white mass as the black clouds whipped up snow from the ground. Black and White.
As it touched the ground tendrils shot out and caught the fleeing men pulling them back into the void. He looked away unable to watch as each man was brought back and ripped apart. The old man looked him in the eye. Loor could hardly hold his gaze as he watched the Old Man outstretched one hand towards him. In his palm was an orb of white energy.’ Impossible!’. A quick hand motion and the orb flew at his head knocking into the air. He hit the ground and skidded backwards the snow softening the fall. Colors swam in front of his eyes . Before slipping into unconsciousness he saw the black and white mass above him. As his vision darkened he felt himself being pulled along.
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