I have something shiny and new* (but don't tell @Phyrebrat). This is the prologue and I'm not sure how well I've managed to convey the set up of the city, and the era. I'll ask the specific questions at the bottom. All comments welcome, including if it's hooky!
*Some of you might recognise it from an old 300 worder, but the idea won't go away, darn it...
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PROLOGUE – A STORM OF MAGES
The crowd gathered in Nova Grantia’s great Platform Square, lining the metal gantries overlooking it. The lowest tiers held the miners, faces grimed and dark. Next, the support workers – the cleaners and cooks, the stock and suppliers. Above them, the gentry, who used power for hot showers, lighting, for cooking. All luxuries. Anna found her fists clenching. If she’d been older, say twelve, she’d have launched herself up the stairs and tried to send them to the hard ground beneath. Better, even, if they fell past the pit-heads, into the bowels of the black diamond mine.
The sound of the crowd surged, a rolling yell, growing and ebbing. Anna’s stomach clenched, doubling her. She knew what had to happen next. She clutched her mother’s hand, hard and harder. Please, let it not happen. Let something stop it. But the rain built, dripping off the metal girders, and the wind whistled through the square, lifting papers that had proclaimed this day, a fresh surge of power from the city’s generators.
Unbidden, her eyes sought the top of the platform, where ten cages were raised above the square, their black support-legs hiding wires and cogs to carry power to the city. They weren’t generators, but prisons.
The cargo-elevator came to life with a whine. She could imagine what had happened on the Outland Plain below, how the high gate to the Mage quarter must have already opened, grinding like something alive. The mages would be confined to their houses, all but the ten. Guards would line the streets, carbines at the ready for any who tried to run. She should be there, not smuggled out three days ago.
The elevator reached her level and stopped with a shuddering clank. She could barely watch the gate opening. Behind it, ten mages stood. She ran her eyes across their faces, a prayer half on her lips. Four women, six men. She ignored the women, focused on the men in their slick black, their long robes tattered. She took in the chains at their wrists, how one had an eye half-shut and bruised. She saw how tightly their guards held their neck chains. Her eyes fell on the last in the row, and the prayer died, unsaid. She had to clutch her mother’s hand, tighter and tighter, to stop herself falling. It was true; her father had been selected.
He was pushed out. She saw how he stumbled. How he fought, despite his chains. He glanced once at her mother, gave an almost imperceptible nod: his eyes were sadder than she’d have believed possible. Sad, and full of fear.
He was pushed up the metal stairs to the top tier. The crowd fell silent and the mages’ steps echoed, barely muffled by the rain. They reached the cage platform. The crowd’s heads craned back, watching. Anna’s eyes swam with tears; her mother gave a stifled cry. Barely seen through misted rain, the mages were forced into their cages.
The crowd began shouting, a baying mass of people. They needed power. Without it the mines would grind to a halt and there’d be nothing to send on the railroad crossing the Plain, nothing to trade for food for the city. There had to be power for the city. For that the storms on the Plain were used, the high winds that rocked the great metal rig. The storms, and the mages to convert the power.
The wind rose. The spectacle had been well timed. The tingle of the storm came into Anna’s fingers. Warmth spread past the chill of seeing her father’s chains, his eyes. She wished she could use the growing storm to blast the Council to nothing. Free her father. But the power was channelled by lightning rods on the cages. Only a fraction of it reached her level.
A lightning bolt hit the line of cages. The city juddered into light and the mines thrummed, making the platform vibrate. Machinery started, the conveyors carrying rock to be smashed, any released diamonds would be transferred laterto the rail-road carriages.
Her father’s pain hit, deep inside her, power to power, blood to blood. She cried out at it. Her mother pulled her hand away. She crouched and kissed Anna. Shoved her further into the miners’ tier.
“She’ll work hard for you,” she said. Money was handed over, precious money provided by the Mage’s council. A last smile for Anna, a final admonishment: “Be good.”
And Anna was turned away. A rough hand took hers, a shepherding body behind, and pulled her down the steps towards the mining quarter, where it was dark and hot. The stench of oil and fire and despair enveloped her; she left the square, and her mother, and her dying father.
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Questions:
1. The city is based around an old mining rig (like an oil rig, but on land) which was the original settlement for a mining settlement. The platform described here is the central area of the rig. Below, on the ground, there is a plain where a larger city has grown up as the mine became viable and valuable. The main city is where the story will take place, although I'm sure the platform will come into it again. Did any of this convey? Or we do we need more of an info-dump, Captain?
2. The feel of it is hopefully going to be quite steampunkish - did that come across?
Thanks for anyone who has the time and inclination to have a look!
*Some of you might recognise it from an old 300 worder, but the idea won't go away, darn it...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PROLOGUE – A STORM OF MAGES
The crowd gathered in Nova Grantia’s great Platform Square, lining the metal gantries overlooking it. The lowest tiers held the miners, faces grimed and dark. Next, the support workers – the cleaners and cooks, the stock and suppliers. Above them, the gentry, who used power for hot showers, lighting, for cooking. All luxuries. Anna found her fists clenching. If she’d been older, say twelve, she’d have launched herself up the stairs and tried to send them to the hard ground beneath. Better, even, if they fell past the pit-heads, into the bowels of the black diamond mine.
The sound of the crowd surged, a rolling yell, growing and ebbing. Anna’s stomach clenched, doubling her. She knew what had to happen next. She clutched her mother’s hand, hard and harder. Please, let it not happen. Let something stop it. But the rain built, dripping off the metal girders, and the wind whistled through the square, lifting papers that had proclaimed this day, a fresh surge of power from the city’s generators.
Unbidden, her eyes sought the top of the platform, where ten cages were raised above the square, their black support-legs hiding wires and cogs to carry power to the city. They weren’t generators, but prisons.
The cargo-elevator came to life with a whine. She could imagine what had happened on the Outland Plain below, how the high gate to the Mage quarter must have already opened, grinding like something alive. The mages would be confined to their houses, all but the ten. Guards would line the streets, carbines at the ready for any who tried to run. She should be there, not smuggled out three days ago.
The elevator reached her level and stopped with a shuddering clank. She could barely watch the gate opening. Behind it, ten mages stood. She ran her eyes across their faces, a prayer half on her lips. Four women, six men. She ignored the women, focused on the men in their slick black, their long robes tattered. She took in the chains at their wrists, how one had an eye half-shut and bruised. She saw how tightly their guards held their neck chains. Her eyes fell on the last in the row, and the prayer died, unsaid. She had to clutch her mother’s hand, tighter and tighter, to stop herself falling. It was true; her father had been selected.
He was pushed out. She saw how he stumbled. How he fought, despite his chains. He glanced once at her mother, gave an almost imperceptible nod: his eyes were sadder than she’d have believed possible. Sad, and full of fear.
He was pushed up the metal stairs to the top tier. The crowd fell silent and the mages’ steps echoed, barely muffled by the rain. They reached the cage platform. The crowd’s heads craned back, watching. Anna’s eyes swam with tears; her mother gave a stifled cry. Barely seen through misted rain, the mages were forced into their cages.
The crowd began shouting, a baying mass of people. They needed power. Without it the mines would grind to a halt and there’d be nothing to send on the railroad crossing the Plain, nothing to trade for food for the city. There had to be power for the city. For that the storms on the Plain were used, the high winds that rocked the great metal rig. The storms, and the mages to convert the power.
The wind rose. The spectacle had been well timed. The tingle of the storm came into Anna’s fingers. Warmth spread past the chill of seeing her father’s chains, his eyes. She wished she could use the growing storm to blast the Council to nothing. Free her father. But the power was channelled by lightning rods on the cages. Only a fraction of it reached her level.
A lightning bolt hit the line of cages. The city juddered into light and the mines thrummed, making the platform vibrate. Machinery started, the conveyors carrying rock to be smashed, any released diamonds would be transferred laterto the rail-road carriages.
Her father’s pain hit, deep inside her, power to power, blood to blood. She cried out at it. Her mother pulled her hand away. She crouched and kissed Anna. Shoved her further into the miners’ tier.
“She’ll work hard for you,” she said. Money was handed over, precious money provided by the Mage’s council. A last smile for Anna, a final admonishment: “Be good.”
And Anna was turned away. A rough hand took hers, a shepherding body behind, and pulled her down the steps towards the mining quarter, where it was dark and hot. The stench of oil and fire and despair enveloped her; she left the square, and her mother, and her dying father.
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Questions:
1. The city is based around an old mining rig (like an oil rig, but on land) which was the original settlement for a mining settlement. The platform described here is the central area of the rig. Below, on the ground, there is a plain where a larger city has grown up as the mine became viable and valuable. The main city is where the story will take place, although I'm sure the platform will come into it again. Did any of this convey? Or we do we need more of an info-dump, Captain?
2. The feel of it is hopefully going to be quite steampunkish - did that come across?
Thanks for anyone who has the time and inclination to have a look!
