The Year of Winter in Summer [Awaiting Status Report]

[Colostriph]

This thread is where I will post all progress for the book I am writting for Jacurutu: The Year of Winter In Summer. It is a historical book based on the Nords of Skyrim at the time of the Red Mountain Eruption.

Current Progress: A bit:

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The Year of Winter In Summer

Third Day of Arrival

It has been two days since our arrival in Vvardenfell, Province of Morrowind. The Devils of House Dagoth have promised us the Heart of Shor. All are excited about gazing upon it. But no one is certain. Can we trust the Devils? I am not sure. I have many doubts. Why did they betray their own people? Why did they openly tell us of the presence of the Heart? It worries me greatly. I smell a trap.

Fourth Day of Arrival

Our camp was woken up to the sounds of war. A band of wizards mixed with squad of Chimeri archers and footmen attacked our base. As I lay beside a dead campfire, a ball of frost swept my friend, Delson straight off his feat. As I approached his body, I noticed that the other end of the camp was under arrow fire. It was too late for our camp. I started to muster any supplies I could. Time was running out. They were half way through the camp when a few others and I ran off into the dark of the hills.

It was chaos. Luckily, we managed to escape in a gap of the enemy’s ambush. It was close. Another one of our companions, Terid, a young man, was caught in a snare. We where a league away before we noticed his helpless cries. I wanted to run and get him, but it was too late. The Chimer were approaching him at speed. We had to run. We where forced to.

We are now lost, desperately trying to find another camp. Even from these shallow plains, we can still see the Red Mountain. Would help be there? Would that be where our forces where? I am not sure, but I must discuss it with the others. It may be our only chance. Our last chance for surviving this cursed island. Why we chose to rule such a dreadful place I do not know. It seems like we’re sacrificing too much for the sake of the Heart of Shor.

Fifth Day of Arrival

As the eight others and I silently, cautiously, tread through the hills and cliffs of the mountainous landscape, sneaking along the cuts and gashes produced by years of erosion, the Red Mountain crashes and spits. My mind tells me that it is safe, but my heart says otherwise. By tomorrow morning, we will be approaching the slopes of the Red Mountain, the Mountain of Devils.

Nothing seems certain anymore. Not even our path. Fear is the word that can describe our feelings towards the situation. All I wish to accomplish is returning to my home in Haafingar. How I long to run the glacial fields once more, hunting for bear and wolf. This foreign land is of the cruelest environments I have ever encountered.

Sixth Day of Arrival

Chimer forces have clogged up the western slope of the Red Mountain. There is no way in. This morning, we made haste, traveling North West in the hopes of meeting our brothers at what the natives have called the Foyada Bani-Dad. There we must take another turn. Hopefully our forces are waiting for us at the ravine.

Seventh Day of Arrival

It has been almost a week since our arrival at Vvardenfell. We where searching the ravine for quite some time, and no sign of other Nords on the site. There isn’t much time before we run out of food. And every day passes by like an ice burg on our backs. I have made a desperate choice. We are to hike through the maze of mountains and hills to the famous House Dagoth Base known as Kogarun. It is a risk trusting our mysterious allies, but it is a risk that we have no choice but to take. At this point in the settings, we may either choose starvation or the alternative. And I can not say safely if both choices lead to death or not.

Eighth Day of Arrival

As our group approaches the great fortress of Kogarun, and it’s black walls, we sense a nearby shadow following our steps. Our dreams where uneasy last night. Everyone expressed their nightmares. Something is wrong. We sense it. And it is not the Chimer.

As the day closes to an end, we have Kogarun in our sights. The clouds move close above it, blocking out any light. We will rest before a hilltop, and continue our journey tomorrow.

Ninth Day of Arrival

Shor help me! In the night! Terrors! Devils! Demons! They attacked us! We were chased down like hounds! The Devils of house Dagoth! They betrayed! Dam them! Kill them all! I am the last one. That survived the hunt. The other perished in the red halls and caverns of Kogarun.

[BalinMinister]

Earl: Is this complete? Seems like Colostriph wanted to add some things onto the end. Thus im guessing it wouldnt be ready for a grammar edit?

EDIT: Earl, Colostriph hasnt returned in quite some time. Any way i can restructure the work if he doesn't find his way back soon? Alot of the errors in this are for choppiness and can be written much better and smoothly if combined. I'll clean it up quite a bit if all is well with the lore. Thanks.

[Earl]

I hadn't even looked it over. Just picked it randomly.

Do whatever you want with it. Generally, in the event of an AWOL author, I'd consider the books community property. Er... not "property"... *scowl* You get the idea. Most people would want to see their ideas given shape, and know what they've done hasn't been for nothing.

Upon reading this, I do see some points I want to make.

1. "Third Day of Arrival" -- I like the capitalization. The Nords are getting close to a complete Shor, so the event would have been given some reverence.

2. Named individuals/Journal -- Bad Thing. This is a Nordic account of something that happened in the distant past, and Nords aren't long-lived. Aside from Kings and various prominent people, it should feel more legend than journal.

3. Retreat/Second guessing -- I imagine Nords to be full of bravado and pride. Questioning their decision to help Dagoth seems out of place... and their retreat shouldn't seem so disorganized and hasty.

4. There's some confusion as to who fought whom at Red Mountain... But generally it's Dwemer-Dagoth-Westerners vs. House Chimer. Given that everyone in the Dwemer-Dagoth-Westerners group wanted the Heart, I suppose it makes some sense that they would attack each other at some point (which may be a big part of the confusion)... But I'd rather this be straight-up "Dagoth are our buddies", to give regular House Dagoth people some non-monster context.

[Nomadic1]

I always imagined that at Red Mountain it would have gone:
All Chimer Houses vs. Dwemer and their allies (the Nords and Orcs)

then:

Houses Indoril, Dres, Hlaalu, Redoran and Telvanni against House Dagoth and their allies (the Nords).

Anyway, it is good writing. But I also reckon that it is too much of a journal and not an account. One point I'd like to make is that for such an important bit of Nordic history, the first two days don't have any separate mention of their own.

[BalinMinister]

1. "Third Day of Arrival" -- I like the capitalization. The Nords are getting close to a complete Shor, so the event would have been given some reverence.

2. Named individuals/Journal -- Bad Thing. This is a Nordic account of something that happened in the distant past, and Nords aren't long-lived. Aside from Kings and various prominent people, it should feel more legend than journal.

Im getting mixed messages here Earl and Nomadic. It seems that you both like the idea of an account rather than a journal- but you both also like the Headings such as "Third Day of Arrival" So which do you guys prefer?

[Nomadic1]

An account. It's just that what is written beneath each heading is like a journal, instead of an account. Being written in the third person might help with this.

[Earl]

An example of what I mean:

First Day of Arrival

We marched through the pass and into western Resdayn in the morning. The men were feeling restless, being in such a strange land, and so Hjronmir prompted us to set up camp. Finding tinder for fires proved difficult, since the twisted trees in this area semed few and far between. I hope toworrow fares better than today.

This is bad.



First Day of Arrival

Proud Nordic forces, a comglomerate of several eastern tribes, marched through Gransik pass and into the home of the Chimer. The honest chill of Skyrim drawing distant, and the strange new terrain ever filling their eyes, some felt the resolve in their hearts falter. Before morale could dip, though, one man rode his horse in front of the great mass and rallied the men. "We are to crawl into the womb of our enemy, but do not hesitate! Shor walks beside us! To their womb we shall go, and wrap their umbilicus about their soft necks! For Shor!" The men found vigor again in their step.

This is better.



Although it might work even better as an epic poem, like the pilgrimage of the Velothi. Then you could add on the part where the Dwemer (or was it Dagoth) forces told the Nords where the Heart was, and finish with the dejected Nord forces fighting amongst themselves, Orcs that were part of teh Dwemer-Dagoth-Westerner forces, more Chimer, and wild beasts as they make their woeful way back to Skyrim. Glory turned to ash.

After all, Shor is their god. The failure to get his Heart must have been a crushing blow to them, but even failure would be a hugely important addition to their faith.

[Jacurutu]

Aye, when I assigned this to Colo long, long ago, I intended that this would be something of a tale that would recount the harsh year following the eruption of Red Mountain -- perhaps something centering around a small town falling apart with a motif of darkness (ash, descending shadow, etc).