Chronicles of the Shikari: Prologue
It's been a long time since I got to sit down and write something for just myself, and I may be a little bit out of practice when it comes to writing something that doesn't have a basic structure to it. That is why I'm submitting this Prologue to you all to look at. I want you all to look over it, read it (it's very short), and tell me what you think.
I know that there's grammar problems so don't bother telling me about that, but I want to know what you all think about the general idea of the story. From here basically the main characters, which are four adventurers get the amulet from a tournament and then get attacked by forces trying to claim the amulet so they set out on a quest to try and work their way towards the source of that attack, some king in a distant land, to find out what's going on all the while battling monsters, and righting wrongs, and doing as adventurers do.
And yes, this is a remake of the story that I started writing so long ago before I started taking commissions, still taking commissions btw.
So I want everyone's opinion on this, don't hold back if you think it sounds stupid. I'm building a consensus.
Prologue
The shifting and turning orb twisted in the depths of the vast darkness around it, the shifting and adjusting of such a thing allowing it to grow, allowing it to take form, to swell, to build upon itself with mountains rising, oceans filling, skies being painted on with nothing more than a wave of these beings hands. Their influence was all that this ball of rocks, water, and air knew, and as that they would continue to form it, continue to build the planet that they wishes it to be. Their will was this planets form, their want was this planets beckon call, the planet had learned to provide for it's master just as those masters provided for it, and every day that they worked this planet grew more unique, more filled with the power of it's masters. The beauty of this orb shown easily out into the darkness, this work of perfected art was one that provided to it's providers without worry, without thought, without struggle. The planet was nothing more than a planet, but the spirit of such a thing was satisfied with it's roll, and the masters never questioned theirs. As they too felt satisfied with their work on this magnificent orb their need to maintain it grew less, the planet able to sustain itself, and with that they would form something else, other beings that could manage the planet, immortals that would never grow old, beings of power with purpose and focus to their design, and a design that would mimic the animals of the planet to honor their orb for the life it was able to sustain, beings that quickly took on the title of gods to watch over this creation and cater to it as their creators departed to other realms to start again. These creators left their creations with only one item to assist them, a golden amulet formed from the planet itself that would allow the gods to craft onto the planet if it ever needed to be changed and it was with this amulet that the gods were able to continue their work.
The gods were beings of power, beings of order, beings of rules and laws, to provide to the planet but partake in it where they never needed anything from this place, but as the fruits started to spoil on the branches it became clear that the planet still needed more. From behind their one way glass wall they could see the orb even if this orb couldn't see them, managing at a distance from their own crafted pocket realm and only taking trips down to the planet for the purpose of working on it. These gods would pull their divine energies and from it craft an essence for the planet, a soul so that the planet could be more than just a living orb in the depths of the void around it, it could provide for itself, to keep it's own plants alive, to allow those animals that lived there to produce more of themselves, to allow this planet to not only truly live, but thrive. It was this essence that flooded the planet, cloaked it in a thick level of hot magi which soaked easily into the depths and cracks of the surface down into the very core itself, and with this the planet was no longer dependent on the gods. These beings of higher power still performed their duties, still guided the rivers, shifted the mountains, fed the animals, but now such things the planet could do itself and with that power it too would start to create life.
Magi became the source of magical energies, and with it the planet was able to form guardians for itself, strong and powerful beings that could defend the planet from invaders and tend to the planet's needs just as the gods did. The gods of this planet looked upon the created life that the planet had made, but were not pleased. Creation itself was a power of the higher gods, a power that they only possessed in the form of a trinket and were told to only use in case of an emergency. They could shift, they could adjust, they could move upon the planet, but none of them had the power to create and now this planet was doing what they could not. They saw these beings made of arcane energy, and descended to confront them, to erase them like a virus from the sensitive planet that they'd been formed to and as they were killed the planet would make more, driving more power into each wave until finally the forces that the gods were made to face would be as powerful as the gods themselves, and with no more power to give, with no more magic to create the planet once again became silent, once again began to die.
The time of the war was countless even by the standards of the immortals, but in that time those creatures that rose to power over the earth were the source of it's destruction, but they were in retreat. Being on the planet that was their home, their inheritance, their property was also their disadvantage. Like the gods they needed a safe haven to retreat to, and the planet itself exposed them to attacks while they rested. In this they formed their own pocket realm similar to that of the gods, a place of heat and poison that they were immune to, a place made from the spirit of the planet itself to call home. It was an underworld because it was close to the world's heart and in this the emotions and desires that filled this realm would be the fuel to craft more. These beings were known to themselves as the Arcanians, crafted of magic, but the gods had delivered them a different title to them, a title befitting a race built as powerful as themselves and yet in never ending contest. The gods knew of them simply as Demons and with these demons gone the gods would need to work quickly to save what they had almost killed. With amulet in hand one god descended down across the planet, his duty was to create, to build a life in the image of the gods that would be able to sustain the planet as they were supposed to as they continued to fight the threat of the demons. From his crafting he'd make creatures of flesh and bone that shared the look of the gods, but not their power, aquarians to dwell in the sea, avians to honor the sky, insects, reptiles, mammals, all created for the sake of tending to the planet in their own way so that the gods could watch over them, could harness the power of their faith and use such a unique energy to battle the threat of the demons that would were bound to retake what had been taken. This god, who shined like the golden sun, never returned to his place in the higher realm, nor did the amulet that he was granted, but those people that he created thrived, filling the planet and living off of it as they honored their creation never knowing about what came before them.