Another fanfiction- the Shapers of New Terrestria

[Dantius]

Originally Posted By: Geneforgeisformeyukkyu

You might say that in the real world since spiders are antisocial, you cannot obtain large enough quantities of spider-silk. However, you miss the point that the world of Geneforge already has huge spider creatures (unless I am talking about Avernum). If not, then shapers would also have the ability to modify spider-silk production into ornks or what-not.

Actually, I believe that spidersilk is mass produced by genetically engineering goats to produce it in their milk. Reality is stranger than fiction.

[Geneforgeisformeyukkyu]

Originally Posted By: Dantius

Originally Posted By: Geneforgeisformeyukkyu

You might say that in the real world since spiders are antisocial, you cannot obtain large enough quantities of spider-silk. However, you miss the point that the world of Geneforge already has huge spider creatures (unless I am talking about Avernum). If not, then shapers would also have the ability to modify spider-silk production into ornks or what-not.

Actually, I believe that spidersilk is mass produced by genetically engineering goats to produce it in their milk. Reality is stranger than fiction.

Yeah I read about that article, but I assumed ornks are the geneforge equivalent to goats, and other farm animals.

[Shaper Tristan]

Your story is really great, I wish that I got here quicker as I have a essential tip that I believe you haves overlooked in your shaper dialog, shapers do not for any reason show fear from,for, or about a creation the correct attitude would be akin to an arrogant disregard even in truly lethal circumstances.

 

Other than this, quite possibly the best fan fic ever.

[Geneforgeisformeyukkyu]

I wonder what Beren Terino has been doing?

[beren terino]

Originally Posted By: Geneforgeisformeyukkyu

I wonder what Beren Terino has been doing?

Long term project. Raymond E. Feist novels. Finals. Girlfriend. Red Dead Redemption. Registering for classes. Editing my novel. Guitar. Sins of a Solar Empire. Looking for a summer job. Working on other stories. Jumping around like an attention-deficit rabbit hopped up on amphetamines. You know...the usual.

Thanks for reminding me about this, though. A month without updates? I'll certainly try to rectify that before too long.

[beren terino]

OK! I (finally) finished Chapter 3! Only another five hundred words or so, but that was a mean cliffhanger I left you off on. I apologize again for how long you were left hanging- I hope to have the next section up sooner.

 

A link for ease of access: http://www.spiderwebforums.com/forum/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=204985#Post204985

[beren terino]

Many apologies for the long delays last chapter- besides real life intruding, it turns out that army scenes are rather hard to write. The saga continues...

 

Chapter Four- Hraki Castle

 

“You WHAT?”

 

“Ah…suffered three hundred and seventy-two casualties, including a hundred and four serviles and two mages, my Lady,” Beren said sheepishly, remaining on his knees.

 

“You,” Lady Nariah growled, powerful hands flexing at her sides. “I trusted you, gave you resources and authority Shapers would KILL for, and asked you to do one. Simple. Task.” A pause. “Investigate and fortify one stinking, crumbling, ruin. It should,” she glared, “Have been easy. And yet, somehow, you manage to kill half your command doing it!”

 

“My lady…let me explain,” Beren pleaded. “There was-”

 

“Damnit, I don’t want to hear you grovel!” Nariah threw herself down on her throne in disgust. “I had confidence in you, Beren, and you failed me.”

 

“I-”

 

“FAILED ME!” She screamed, her words echoing back and forth across the chamber as she glared at the disgraced Shaper before her.

 

“Please, my lady,” Beren tried again. “If you’ll just talk to-”

 

“I don’t want to talk to your damn Dn’arre wizard,” she growled. “I don’t want to talk to Matys, or Linari, or Garod., and I don’t want to talk to you. Get out.”

 

“…Lady?”

 

“GET OUT!” Again, the angry echo boomed out. “Get out of my castle! Hell, get out of my province!”

 

“I’m sorry, but-”

 

“OUT!” Nariah’s hand darted to her belt, and Beren ducked as a throwing axe whizzed past his head. It clattered off the wall on the opposite side of the chamber, and he scampered for the door before she could find another weapon.

 

Master Kyager was waiting for him just outside. The old Shaper had a prominent nose, bushy white mustache, dark green eyes, and a shock of curly white hair underneath the hood of his traditional robe.

 

“Sounds like the good Lady just tore you a new one,” he chuckled.

 

“That she did,” Beren agreed ruefully. “I’m lucky there’s enough of me left for her to do that much.”

 

“I read your report,” Kyager nodded, taking out his pipe from underneath his robe. “You got clobbered out there, and rightfully so, but from the look of things there wasn’t much you could have done.”

 

“No,” Beren grimaced. “I’d never heard of these death pact magics before the battle. But…I should have been able to do something,” he muttered, shaking his head angrily.

 

The old Shaper patted him gently on the arm. “And that’s why you’ll be a better Shaper Lord than Nariah one day. But until then…what are you to do now?”

 

“What was…I don’t know,” Beren said, confused by Kyager’s last statement. “Go back to the Council, apply for another position, I guess.”

 

“But that’s not what you’d like to do, is it?” Kyager’s eyes glimmered as he lit his pipe.

 

“I’d like to get my hands on whoever ordered these attacks,” Beren admitted, anger flashing in his eyes. “But that’s hardly an option now.”

 

“Not necessarily,” Kyager blew a smoke ring. “Nariah never gave any official instructions as to what to do with you. As the official representative of the Council, I could, perhaps, be persuaded to write you some agent papers…”

 

“What do you want from me?” Beren asked, suddenly guarded. Agent papers would identify him as an official agent of the Council, giving him permission to travel and oblige local commanders to give him what aid they could. They were like a license to wander around and stick his nose in things that were none of his business. It would give him the perfect opportunity to hunt for those behind the attack, but…no-one would just hand over such valuable documents without first extracting a major price.

 

“I believe you were on the Project Starfire team a few years back? Under- oh, who was it now…ah yes, Shaper Dakar, before his…unfortunate demise?”

 

“Yes…”

 

“Excellent,” Kyager grinned. “Show me how to Shape those kinetic energy glands and we’ll call it even.”

 

“Certainly,” Beren said, pleasantly surprised. “I’d be happy to.”

 

----------------------------------

 

That afternoon…

 

Tuck, roll, twist…Beren finished wrapping the last crystal vial in insulating silk. He handed it to a servile, who carefully tucked it away in a well-padded pack.

 

“I think that’s it,” he said, half-to himself, as he stood up and stretched. He didn’t have much in the way of personal possessions to pack, but securing a full set of Shaping tools and compounds took far more time than he would have liked, particularly after spending so long teaching old Kyager.

 

Still, the time hadn’t been totally wasted- he had Shaped two kinetic roamers- both full, companion creations, and that should be enough of an escort for the moment. With agent papers, it wouldn’t be too hard to persuade the creation keeper to let him sign out a packbeast to carry his bags. There were a few hours of sunlight left, more than enough for him to reach the nearest fort.

 

He laced up his essence-infused light armor, made from small plates of glaahk chitin attached to a leather vest, and slipped on the matching boots and bracers. A short sword and wand case went on his left hip, a pouch of explosive crystals and healing spores on his right. He donned a selection of enchanted jewelry, and shrugged on his Shaper robe. He was ready to leave.

 

“Beren?”

 

Make that almost ready, he corrected himself, as he turned to face the newcomer.

 

“Hello, Linari,” he said coolly.

 

“I heard about what happened to you,” she said, her soft green eyes filled with sympathy. “It’s…it’s terrible.”

 

“[censored] happens,” he shrugged philosophically.

 

“What are you going to do now?” She took a step forwards, pulling back her hood. Her long red hair spilled down over her shoulders, glistening softly in the light.

 

“What Nariah should be doing,” he said grimly. “Screw defense. I’m going to find out who’s behind these attacks and force-feed them their own liver.”

 

“But…without Lady Nariah’s resources, how will you…”

 

“I have agent papers,” he explained. “The local authorities won’t know what’s happened; they’ll help if I need it. Besides…you saw what happened when we tried force. They wiped out our division like it didn’t exist! There are times when one man in the wrong place at the right time can make all the difference in the world.”

 

“I…I could go with you,” she said, drawing closer to him. “Help you.”

 

“I’ll be fine on my own,” he said, taking a step back. “You’ll be more useful here, protecting civilians.”

 

“But…” she pouted. “I want to be…with you…”

 

“Linari,” he said softly, “You’re a Shaper. Our feelings aren’t important. Harden your heart and do what needs to be done.” He stepped briskly towards the door, taking his pack from the servile holding it. “Farewell.”

 

Linari dropped to the bed in disgust and waited until his footsteps died away.

 

“Well, [censored],” she muttered.

 

-------------------------------------------

 

Sharatir was waiting for him outside the castle gates. The tattooed wizard had his pistol tucked into his belt, and was holding the reins of a small packbeast.

 

“What are you doing here?” Beren asked suspiciously.

 

“I hope you aren’t going to turn down my help.”

 

“Only because I suspect you know much more than you’re letting on,” Beren muttered.

 

“Perhaps,” the wizard smiled enigmatically. “I believe you were hoping to reach Fort Kirgsaat before sunset?”

 

The two men walked in silence for a time. The only noises were the squelch of their footsteps, and the occasionally whinny from the packbeast. Finally, Beren could stand it no longer, and turned to face his companion.

 

“Why are you really here? No-one in their right mind would travel so far north just to look at some old ruins in a swamp. How did you even know they existed? And how the hell did you get your hands on a packbeast?”

 

“The creation keeper had heard all about the battle, and he, at least, decided that I had been helpful. And I have a small amount of gold for…travel expenses,” Sharatir explained.

 

“That,” Beren said icily, “Was not the pertinent question.” He cracked his knuckles. “Did you know that one of my favorite teachers studied magic in Ts’rrede? He used to go on and on about all of your fascinating traditions…like identifying tattoos.” He smiled. “I had a junior Shaper look up the order of the Quiet Circle. Turns out that your markings don’t quite fit the bill.”

 

“Is that so?” Sharatir’s smile remained unshaken.

 

“In fact,” Beren’s eyes twinkle dangerously, “They don’t match any Dn’arre school of wizardry that we know of.”

“Perhaps your intelligence is lacking?”

 

“Perhaps,” Beren nodded. “But then again, while your tattoos don’t match any known school, Shapers have seen them before. Wizards of this…unknown school, shall we say…they’ve been seen all over the continent, on seemingly innocuous errands. But, somehow, wherever your kind is spotted, trouble of an…unusual nature seems to follow. Rebellions. Rogue creations. Renegade mages.”

 

Sharatir remained silent, although some of the serene good humor faded from his eyes.

 

“Now, some accounts blame the wizards,” Beren continued. “But me? I find myself more in agreement with those who noted that the wizards often aided locals against the threats. It seems that they believe that your order are more like our agents- dispatched by some central authority to enforce your own laws.”

 

“You’re not far off, friend Shaper,” Sharatir inclined his head. “I underestimated your order’s perception. There’s only a single facet of my school’s mission which you overlooked.”

 

“Care to share what it is?”

 

“I might as well, as it appears we have the same goal.” The wizard fingered the hilt of his gun. “The Order of the Invisible Star consists of many types of adventurers, not just wizards, but we share a common purpose- opposition to the Crj’arre warchief known as Crj’hyrn, or the Fist of Crajire.”

 

“Hold on a moment,” Beren raised a hand. “We have records of your order stretching back for centuries. Not even Shaping can prolong a man’s life that long.”

 

“I am not well versed in your arts, but there has been a Crj’hyrn for two hundred and sixty-three years,” Sharatir admitted. “We suspect that there have been many men who assumed his mantle, but their goals have been clear from the start.” He looked Beren straight in the eye, voice deadly serious. “They desire nothing less than the total eradication of your people.”

 

“The Shapers?”

 

“Not just the Shapers. I said your people. Soldiers, farmers, merchants, craftsmen…they want to reclaim the land you stole from them. They will stop at nothing until every man, woman, and child from the land you call Old Terrestria is dead, your towns razed, and your names forgotten.”

 

[Geneforgeisformeyukkyu]

Ooh! I like how you showed Nariah's spicy side :3. Her angriness made that chapter very interesting. I never thought about Agents like that though, because in the games, no matter what class you were, you still did the same things pretty much. 4.9/5

[Shaper Tristan]

Ugh, it's like trying to read a book one chapter per week, this is definitly my favorite fanfic...... Though this chapter was far too short.

[Geneforgeisformeyukkyu]

Originally Posted By: Shaper Tristan

Ugh, it's like trying to read a book one chapter per week, this is definitly my favorite fanfic...... Though this chapter was far too short.

I have to agree with you on that, but it is not like he had years to write the work of fiction, unlike other authors.

[beren terino]

Originally Posted By: Shaper Tristan

Ugh, it's like trying to read a book one chapter per week, this is definitly my favorite fanfic...... Though this chapter was far too short.

It's not the whole chapter- I'm trying to post scenes as I finish them, rather than wait until I have the whole ~10 page chapter, hopefully eliminating some of the frustration. Thanks for the compliment, though- I'm glad people are enjoying it.

[Shaper Tristan]

Mods please delete

[Geneforgeisformeyukkyu]

I guess all we can say is that the Geneforge fanfic era had a good run.

[Tuldrac]

There was a nice one on fanfiction.net...

Though it went up to 6 chapters and the author vanished

T.T

[Acky]

Now now, give him some time. Have a little faith, no need to go deleting threads >.>

[beren terino]

Don't lose all faith...I haven't abandoned this project completely, but I do admit that it's slipped somewhat in my priorities...I promise that I will update it, however. Eventually.

 

In the meantime, please accept this short story as a peace offering. It has no relationship to Geneforge, but it is an unashamed Conan tribute/rip off, so you might enjoy it.

Click to reveal..

Greetings, reader. Know that you hold in your hands a full recounting of my life. The son of a human woman and a hill giant warrior, in my youth I have been a sellsword, a crusader, a legionnaire, and more. I have had more adventure, more sorrow, and more peril in my life than a hundred lesser men. For these are the tales of…

 

Grod the Giant

 

Part the Twelfth: The Wyrm of Kay’rath

 

After an unfortunate misunderstanding with Lord Opanir, regarding the affections of his youngest daughter, I was forced to flee his city in a great hurry. I hopped aboard the first ship leaving port, only to discover that its captain intended to pass through the infamous Kay’rath isles, where thousands of narrow coves provide ample anchorage for any number of pirates. Therefore, it came as no surprise when our ship was attacked by a particularly vicious crew one stormy night. During the fighting, I was thrown overboard, and barely managed to stay afloat by catching hold of a piece of wooden wreckage. Sadly, permanent rescue was not so easily found…

 

“Goddamn pirates,” I muttered to myself, shifting my grasp on the driftwood. “Sinking my goddamn ship. Two days of floating around this goddamn pond…” I tried to spit, but my mouth was dry. “I just wish something would goddamn happen.”

 

Suddenly, something huge and scaly burst up from underwater. I fumbled, barely managing to grab onto a spike before I fell off. The beast I was clinging to continued to rise. Then, with a loud thump, it spread huge, bat-like wings and took to the air in true flight.

 

‘A dragon’, I though. ‘[censored]’. I reached down and touched the handle of my shortsword, reassuring himself that I had not lost it over the past few days, but the constant immersion in saltwater had surely rusted the blade, even with the special protective scabbard. ‘What the hell is a dragon doing in the middle of the Inner Sea?’

 

I was clinging to one of the many spikes that started at the tip of the dragon’s tail and continued all the way up its titanic body and neck. The tail was tipped with a diamond-shaped barb ominously close to his own feet. The dragon was fairly serpentine, but had six limbs, aside from its wings- four squat, powerful legs at the base of its body, and two slimmer arms in front of its wings. The wings themselves were absolutely enormous- each one much have stretched more than a hundred feet, and they were nearly fifty feet wide at the broadest point. Its head resembled that of a lizard, but it was capped with swept-back spines, and a vast alien intellect shone in its golden eyes. The entire creature was more than two hundred and fifty feet from tail to snout, and entirely clad in sapphire-blue scales, each one the size of a tower shield and hard as diamond.

 

I twisted, planted my feet on the spike beneath me, and began to climb. As I did, I realized that I truly had no idea what I was doing. Dragons were incredibly powerful creatures, nearly impossible to kill. Even adamantine weapons had trouble penetrating their scaly armor, and their scales reflected magic as well as steel. No part of their body was unprotected- their eyes were covered by a transparent membrane that was almost as strong as their scales. Their ears were armored by their head-spines. The soft tissue in their mouths could be injured, but in the heat of battle their mouths were typically filled with fire, and any attack would have to make it past hundreds of man sized, razor-sharp teeth. Any attack on such a beast required careful preparation and extensive magical support- both of which I lacked. My only resources were a single short blade and my own strong right arm.

 

Feeling my weight on its tail, the dragon twisted in midair, doing an aerial somersault of some sort before going into a vertical dive. I hung on with all of my considerable strength, but I still felt myself begin to slip. Suddenly, the dragon snapped its wings out in a huge down stroke. The shock of the maneuver threw me off the wyrm and into the air- hundreds of feet above the ocean.

 

“[censored],” I swore as the dragon twisted and swooped towards me.

 

Its right foreclaw closed around me like a vise, crushing my ribs and squeezing the breath from my lungs.

 

I struggled frantically to draw my sword, but the dragon held me too tightly. Its widely opened mouth loomed before me, and a plan formed in my mind. It was desperate, reckless, and almost certain to fail.

 

In other words, right up my alley.

 

The dragon took a moment to roar in triumph, nearly defining me, before tossing me into its mouth.

 

I nearly gagged at the smell, but managed to land on my feet. The dragon’s mouth was easily large enough for me upright- I’ve seen smaller houses. The tongue quaked beneath my feet, and I jumped to the side just in time to avoid being swallowed, drawing my sword as I did so. Taking a two-handed grip, I sank the rusty blade up to the hilt in the base of the dragon’ tongue. There was no immediate reaction, but I set my feet carefully and wrenched it sideways, tearing a wide gash in the tender flesh. Hot, sticky blood fountained out, and a ruptured saliva gland added its caustic liquid to the flood, searing my unprotected, sunburned flesh.

 

The dragon bellowed in pain. Ancient instincts kicked into action, and its nostrils flared as it inhaled deeply.

 

I heard the rushing air, and turned to run, blood-soaked sword in hand. I leaped between the dragon’s razor-sharp teeth, tearing open my thigh on an incisor, and plummeted from its open mouth an instant before I would have been incinerated.

 

A massive plume of fire scorched my back as I fell. The plume of white-hot flame, hot enough to vaporize steel, blasted out across the sky, a mile long and a hundred feet wide at the tip.

 

The dragon spotted my falling body, and it snarled murderously. Hurt, it thought, the single sensation echoing through its simple mind. Kill.

 

I heard the scream of rage, felt the wind of the dragon’s dive even above the sensation of falling. Well, I thought bitterly, I tried.

 

The claw grabbed me again, this time from behind. my sword arm was free this time, and I flailed away at what flesh I could reach, but my sword simply bounced off the dragon’s scales. From the corner of my eye, y saw the ocean fast approaching.

 

The force of the impact smashed me flat. A normal man would have been killed instantly; as it was, I ‘merely’ broke another few ribs, my nose, and nearly dislocated both arms.

 

I struggled to free myself, but the dragon did not comply. it whipped its sinuous body around with effortless grace, bearing me father down into the lightless depths. The claw holding me thrashed about, beating me broken body against the water. Once I passed close enough to its head to see the madness in its eye, but then I was borne away.

 

Chest bursting, pulse pounding in my head, I knew I had to get free soon. I stopped slashing wildly and took careful aim at a point between two of the wide scales. Setting both hands on the hilt, I thrust with all of my strength, and the blade dug into the seam. The dragon’s massive hand convulsed, and I slipped out of the dragon’s grasp and made a break for the surface.

 

The dragon caught me first, shooting up from the depths like a bolt from a crossbow. The initial wild rush bore me up and out of the water in an explosion of spray, but then I was falling backwards, and the dragon’s vast mouth was rising to meet me…

 

Long fangs snapped shut beneath me, and the world went black.

 

The dragon rose into the air again, its huge wings beating strongly. It had already killed one of the tiny monkeys, but that was nowhere near enough to sate its bloodlust. It extended its head, sniffing at the air, and caught the faint scent of a whole ship full of the monkeys, rich with the smells of blood and death. Its wings beat powerfully, driving its massive body forwards. it would eat well tonight…

 

As it flew, it became aware of a strange pain in its throat. It coughed a few times, but that merely made the pain worse. It spat out a quick fireball, but the pain must have been coming from a point below where the flame ignited, for it persisted. It wasn’t too bad, the dragon finally decided. Just a bit of metal from the latest monkey, stuck in its esophagus. It would go away soon.

 

The dragon flew on in silence, trailing a menacing stream of smoke. The pain was getting really bad now- it felt like something was pushing against the inside of its skin-

 

The tip of a sword, scarred and pitted from the dragon’s acidic blood, poked through the flesh of its neck, and screaming a wordless scream, I burst through after it. My skin was badly burned and I was covered head to toe with blood, much of it my own, but I was still very much alive.

 

Not for long, though, because I was still hundreds of feet in the air. I managed to catch hold of one of the dragon’s claws, and the force of the impact wrenched my already abused shoulders. I pulled myself up, every inch of my body protesting behind a fog of adrenalin.

 

The dragon was getting frantic now, grasping at its wounded throat with both forepaws. ‘No good, you bastard,’ I thought triumphantly. ‘That’s a mortal wound if I ever saw one.’

 

And indeed, the dragon’s wing strokes were already faltering. As its blood poured out, and its breaths rasped and whistled through the massive wound, it drifted lower and lower, until finally, its eyes shut and it simply plummeted from the sky.

 

Of course, that meant that I was also falling. I swung my feet around under me and kicked off as hard as I could.

 

The dragon hit the water with enough force to fling hundreds of gallons upwards. Its corpse broke the surface for me, so that I dropped into the sea with barely any pain, but that still left tons of water hanging overhead, about to come back down in a big hurry. I sucked in a deep breath and dove as fast as I could, trying to get under the dragon’s body before the waves came smashing back…

 

The pirates- ironically, the same ones who had sunk my first ship- found my body the next day, washed up on the shore of one of the innumerable Kay’rath islands. I had nothing of value, and they initially planned to leave me there, but then they saw one of the dragon’s wings, snapped off by the force of the impact, a few hundred yards down the beach from me, and decided that maybe they would wake me up and ask me a few questions.

 

Eventually, I managed to make them believe my story, and in admiration, they offered me a place on their crew. I accepted, at least as long as it took until we got back to a reputable port. But that is a story for another day.

[Shaper Tristan]

Just to clarify, my comment was made in relation to the post not the thread.

[beren terino]

Wait a minute, what's that I...is that...an update? HOLY CRAP!!!

 

http://www.spiderwebforums.com/forum/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=207476#Post207476

[Geneforgeisformeyukkyu]

Juicy tidbits!!!! Maybe a

Click to reveal..

Is this the sholai???? *assuming it is related to actually GF history.

[MadProfessor]

 

Funeral music playing.

Let us all gather here today to remember our dear fanfic.It was a good fanfic,strong and brave but it was lazy.That laziness is what got it forgotten as a post.So come my virtual brothers and sisters and say someting to our dear friend who we still look once in a while if it has something new,but it never does.

 

P.S was it wrong to revive a dead post,sorry if it is Im new to all this forum stuff.

[Dantius]

Originally Posted By: Master Shaper1

Funeral music playing.
Let us all gather here today to remember our dear fanfic.It was a good fanfic,strong and brave but it was lazy.That laziness is what got it forgotten as a post.So come my virtual brothers and sisters and say someting to our dear friend who we still look once in a while if it has something new,but it never does.

Oh Geneforge fanfic, you were too beautiful for this world.

[Geneforgeisformeyukkyu]

Originally Posted By: Dantius

Originally Posted By: Master Shaper1

Funeral music playing.
Let us all gather here today to remember our dear fanfic.It was a good fanfic,strong and brave but it was lazy.That laziness is what got it forgotten as a post.So come my virtual brothers and sisters and say someting to our dear friend who we still look once in a while if it has something new,but it never does.

Oh Geneforge fanfic, you were too beautiful for this world.

We shall never forget you, and how you died a slow and painful death, abandoned by your father.

[Tirien]

Am I the only one who thinks there's WAY to many fanfics about Geneforge, and none (I think) about Avernum? Seriously, someone needs to make a Avernum fanfic before I go insane and set my face on fire.

[Dikiyoba]

Avernum/Exile fanfic thread

 

Dikiyoba.

[Tirien]

Its a miracle!!....Still going to set my face on fire though. Yay for pyromania!

[beren terino]

I just stumbled across this bookmark again, and I feel like I owe you an explanation, and an apology.

 

I was over-ambitious. I admit that frankly. This started out as a simple, limited story, well-grounded in the games, but it quickly became so much more.

 

I was overwhelmed by your kind words, and still flush from the excitement of finishing National Novel Writing Month. I was replaying Geneforge 5, and my mind was full of Shapers and stories, epic war and battle.

 

But, alas, I was struck with my two biggest writing nemesi- overambition and lack of time.

 

Through a combination of exterior and interior reasons and excuses, I never, ever, spend as much time writing as I would like to- or should.

 

Worse, I was overambitious. This fiction always was intended to portray the Shapers at war. However, as I struggled with the first battle scene, I discovered an unfortunate truth- big battles are HARD. It's easy to imagine tactics, and new war creations, but writing such a scene so it's actually exciting is very, very, hard.

 

And, as time went on, I struggled to keep my inspiration. I finished Geneforge, and my mind also moved on, bombarding me with new inspirations. There was no real reward for finishing this story; no shining hope of being published. Real life ground on, and I honestly forgot I had started this fanfic.

 

And so, I apologize. I'm sorry for setting up this epic story and leaving it half-finished; I'm sorry for leading you on for so long; and I'm sorry for for forgetting about it. I know you have no reason to forgive me, and I don't expect it.

 

I'm not going to make promises. I've started college; I have schoolwork, clubs (including writing for a radio show), friends, and a thousand other writing projects I want to finish.

 

But, I will say this: I will re-read what I have written. If it inspires me again, if my characters have enough life of their own, I may take pen to paper once again. If not...if I loose interest again...don't get your hopes up, is all I'm saying. But...there is a chance of revival. A slight one. Maybe. A little bit.

 

Begging your most sincere apologies,

Beren