The Bloated One
Well-Known Member
Hi Everyone,
not been on here for a looong time!
I am well into the 'Book Two Blues', and doubting everything I write, so I thought I'd get some inspiration/advice from the best place around, Chrons!
Two short passages; I have two questions - Are they interesting? Would you want to read more?
I should add, that book one (Tarquin Jenkins & the book of Dreams) explains fully what the Putriryosomatidarectem race is; Human like crocodiles, that walk upright.
Putriryosomatidarectem Presidential Palace, Putrios.
“Admiral Gruilash Vandergaard, you have been weighed. You have been measured. And you have absolutely been found wanting. Your dereliction of duty and abject failure to stop the earthlings and their cabal has caused severe embarrassment to the Putriryosomatidarectem nation and cannot go unpunished.”
Gruilash stood before the President and Senate spitting bile. Stripped of his body armour and ceremonial robes, he railed against the two guards holding him.
“Only your unblemished war record stands between you, dishonour and death. It is a unanimous decision that you be banished from Putrios and live the rest of your life as Governor of a small enclave of prisoners on the Magdellana Moon colony. Take him away.”
The snarl on President’s face disappeared as Gruilash was led away, and his eyes glinted. He looked around at the several thousand senators sitting in their boxes stretching high above him and surrounding his dais.
“Fresh from his many, many victories in the Thorn Galaxy, I welcome to our gathering, Commander of the Black Guard, Admiral Kreien Vythrax III.
The doors to the chamber opened, and a tall, hooded figure walked into the room. Steam erupted from within the hood covering his head, and green bile dropped and fizzed on the floor. Eyes, one green, the other blue, shone like precious stones from within the mantle. Maundering voices spread through the gathering, until with a wave of the hooded man’s hand they stopped.
“Today is a good day. Today, we start to take what is rightfully ours…” He pulled back his hood and the senators gasped. His ears, or what were left of them, were shredded leaves of scarred flesh. Running from one side of his jaw to just under his right eye was a deep, purple scar, highlighted against the green of his scaly skin. Two crescent shaped, titanium capped teeth curved down from his upper jaw, extending a full 8 inches either side of his jawline. He wore the battle uniform of an Admiral, First Class.
“No more shall yellow hair and her pathetic rabble laugh at us,” he continued, his deep voice resonating around the hall, slowly getting louder. “And, no more will we allow the human race to cower behind the pathetic protection afforded to it by the Galaxies President! We will find the amulet, and use it to destroy them and their planet!”
The gathering rose as one, stamped their feet and ululated the only way Griddlebacks can.
---------------------------------------
3 AM. Whitehall, London. Elizabethan England.
“I am come amongst you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all; to lay down, for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood, even the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart of a prince, and of a prince of England, too.” The woman looked up from the parchment and smiled. “Then I’ll make reference to whoever we are fighting at the time. I rather like it, don’t you?”
Dudley sat up in bed. “Your words are beautiful my Queen, but may I suggest you have the heart of a King, not a mere Prince?” Before anyone spoke again, a loud whooshing noise rent the air and the centre of the room was filled by a vortex of steam and rain that swirled violently around the bed-chamber soaking everything within.
“Coads-nigs!” cried Dudley, struggling to get free from the water soaked sheets entangling them. Inside the vortex a sedan chair spun to a stop in front of the bed. Escaping the sheets, Dudley grabbed his sword and dagger from the table beside the bed, and moved warily toward the stationary chair.
Seeing two shadowy figures inside, he pointed his sword at the door and yelled, “Come out! Come out!” as he pulled a sheet around his waist. The woman in bed pulled her clothing from the floor, scrambled to the headboard and covered herself.
The sedan chair’s door opened and two men, naked but for long multicoloured beards, and tricornered hats, emerged with their hands held high.
“Please, please, we are lost…”
“What language is this?” spluttered Dudley, waving his sword wildly in the air. “It is the devil’s language!” he yelled, his eyes the size of duck eggs.
“No, no, it’s Italian!” said the woman.
“Raise the alarm my Queen,” said Dudley, standing guard before the bed. Pulling a gown over her shoulders she joined Dudley in front of the chair and gently eased him to one side.
“Please,” she said, pointing to Dudley’s clothes strewn about the floor. “I am Elizabeth, Queen of England. We mean you no harm. Please, put these clothes on.” She signalled Dudley to gather up his clothes and hand them over. Dudley complied, albeit reluctantly. “Sit by the fire and warm yourselves,” she continued.
The two strangers dressed quickly and went to the fire and sat down. One wore Dudley’s doublet, barely covering his stomach, the other man wore Dudley’s breeches and his undershirt. Dudley shook his head and, without lowering his sword found his codpiece, and passed it to the stranger wearing the doublet. “You need to cover your modesty in front of my Queen,” he growled.
“Now,” said Elizabeth, “who are you, and how on God’s good earth did you get into my bed chamber!”
not been on here for a looong time!
I am well into the 'Book Two Blues', and doubting everything I write, so I thought I'd get some inspiration/advice from the best place around, Chrons!
Two short passages; I have two questions - Are they interesting? Would you want to read more?
I should add, that book one (Tarquin Jenkins & the book of Dreams) explains fully what the Putriryosomatidarectem race is; Human like crocodiles, that walk upright.
Putriryosomatidarectem Presidential Palace, Putrios.
“Admiral Gruilash Vandergaard, you have been weighed. You have been measured. And you have absolutely been found wanting. Your dereliction of duty and abject failure to stop the earthlings and their cabal has caused severe embarrassment to the Putriryosomatidarectem nation and cannot go unpunished.”
Gruilash stood before the President and Senate spitting bile. Stripped of his body armour and ceremonial robes, he railed against the two guards holding him.
“Only your unblemished war record stands between you, dishonour and death. It is a unanimous decision that you be banished from Putrios and live the rest of your life as Governor of a small enclave of prisoners on the Magdellana Moon colony. Take him away.”
The snarl on President’s face disappeared as Gruilash was led away, and his eyes glinted. He looked around at the several thousand senators sitting in their boxes stretching high above him and surrounding his dais.
“Fresh from his many, many victories in the Thorn Galaxy, I welcome to our gathering, Commander of the Black Guard, Admiral Kreien Vythrax III.
The doors to the chamber opened, and a tall, hooded figure walked into the room. Steam erupted from within the hood covering his head, and green bile dropped and fizzed on the floor. Eyes, one green, the other blue, shone like precious stones from within the mantle. Maundering voices spread through the gathering, until with a wave of the hooded man’s hand they stopped.
“Today is a good day. Today, we start to take what is rightfully ours…” He pulled back his hood and the senators gasped. His ears, or what were left of them, were shredded leaves of scarred flesh. Running from one side of his jaw to just under his right eye was a deep, purple scar, highlighted against the green of his scaly skin. Two crescent shaped, titanium capped teeth curved down from his upper jaw, extending a full 8 inches either side of his jawline. He wore the battle uniform of an Admiral, First Class.
“No more shall yellow hair and her pathetic rabble laugh at us,” he continued, his deep voice resonating around the hall, slowly getting louder. “And, no more will we allow the human race to cower behind the pathetic protection afforded to it by the Galaxies President! We will find the amulet, and use it to destroy them and their planet!”
The gathering rose as one, stamped their feet and ululated the only way Griddlebacks can.
---------------------------------------
3 AM. Whitehall, London. Elizabethan England.
“I am come amongst you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all; to lay down, for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood, even the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart of a prince, and of a prince of England, too.” The woman looked up from the parchment and smiled. “Then I’ll make reference to whoever we are fighting at the time. I rather like it, don’t you?”
Dudley sat up in bed. “Your words are beautiful my Queen, but may I suggest you have the heart of a King, not a mere Prince?” Before anyone spoke again, a loud whooshing noise rent the air and the centre of the room was filled by a vortex of steam and rain that swirled violently around the bed-chamber soaking everything within.
“Coads-nigs!” cried Dudley, struggling to get free from the water soaked sheets entangling them. Inside the vortex a sedan chair spun to a stop in front of the bed. Escaping the sheets, Dudley grabbed his sword and dagger from the table beside the bed, and moved warily toward the stationary chair.
Seeing two shadowy figures inside, he pointed his sword at the door and yelled, “Come out! Come out!” as he pulled a sheet around his waist. The woman in bed pulled her clothing from the floor, scrambled to the headboard and covered herself.
The sedan chair’s door opened and two men, naked but for long multicoloured beards, and tricornered hats, emerged with their hands held high.
“Please, please, we are lost…”
“What language is this?” spluttered Dudley, waving his sword wildly in the air. “It is the devil’s language!” he yelled, his eyes the size of duck eggs.
“No, no, it’s Italian!” said the woman.
“Raise the alarm my Queen,” said Dudley, standing guard before the bed. Pulling a gown over her shoulders she joined Dudley in front of the chair and gently eased him to one side.
“Please,” she said, pointing to Dudley’s clothes strewn about the floor. “I am Elizabeth, Queen of England. We mean you no harm. Please, put these clothes on.” She signalled Dudley to gather up his clothes and hand them over. Dudley complied, albeit reluctantly. “Sit by the fire and warm yourselves,” she continued.
The two strangers dressed quickly and went to the fire and sat down. One wore Dudley’s doublet, barely covering his stomach, the other man wore Dudley’s breeches and his undershirt. Dudley shook his head and, without lowering his sword found his codpiece, and passed it to the stranger wearing the doublet. “You need to cover your modesty in front of my Queen,” he growled.
“Now,” said Elizabeth, “who are you, and how on God’s good earth did you get into my bed chamber!”
