Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Student Member Jacob GrahamMale/United Kingdom Groups :iconstarwriters: StarWriters
 
Recent Activity
Deviant for 7 Years
Needs Premium Membership
Statistics 199 Deviations 1,671 Comments 7,296 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Favourites

Activity


This is my first journal entry in THREE YEARS, so...yay to me being back! w00t! 

I've wanted to make a new entry in a while, and I think when I've finally finished my Creative Writing course at university (just 15 days left!) I'll maybe write a nice, heart-warming piece about the experience and what I've learned from it and no one will read it. But until then... I've just been reading the Wikipedia page of Terry Brooks, the awesome writer of the Shannara series, of which I admit I've only read three books so far, although I own almost all of them thanks to my fantasy-loving father.

Here are some quotes that I really like: 

"I would set my adventure story in an imaginary world, a vast, sprawling, mythical world like that of Tolkien, filled with magic that had replaced science and races that had evolved from Man. But I was not Tolkien and did not share his background in academia or his interest in cultural study. So I would eliminate the poetry and songs, the digressions on the ways and habits of types of characters, and the appendices of language and backstory that characterized and informed Tolkien's work. I would write the sort of straightforward adventure story that barreled ahead, picking up speed as it went, compelling a turning of pages until there were no more pages to be turned."

 "Environment is a character in my story and almost always plays a major role in affecting the story's outcome. I have always believed that fantasy, in particular, because it takes place in an imaginary world with at least some imaginary characters, needs to make the reader feel at home in the setting. That means bringing the setting alive for the reader, which is what creating environment as a character is really all about."
  • Mood: Lazy
  • Listening to: Moondance, Van Morrison
  • Reading: A lotta 'Postmodern' novels for uni
  • Playing: SSB4, Kirby: Rainbow Paintbrush, Pandora's Tower
  • Eating: Salmon (mmm)
Hushes by murdokdracul
Hushes
These are the Hushes: an infant on the left and an adult on the right. They are galago-like eudaemanticora (fairy-beasts). Though they may look soft and cuddly, they will release a toxic substance from their cloud-like tails if threatened. 

They were originally inspired by Pokémon, and would have been a Poison/Fairy-type family if I didn't want to include them in my own fantasy world. The colouration of the adult would have been the shiny version. 
Loading...
Xzindra by murdokdracul
Xzindra
The 'dark dragon', an inhabitant of the Isle of Elothar.

Updated 9/5/2015: Made it a transparent PNG and edited out the rough bits. 
Loading...

Chapter 1


The White Door


Tall, dark trees loomed before him, daring him in. A fierce attraction, a feeling inside of his heart had drawn him to the forest. He felt like an insect, impelled to dart straight for the nearest flame...but there was no flame. Beyond the first few rows of pines lay nothing but shadows: dense, grave, black shadows. Such a magical mind as his could not have resisted its call, even if he had wanted to.

    Zindra stared into the wood, his eyes glistening red as rubies, burrowing into the darkness. The only lives he observed were those of the plants before him; no animals had been here in a long time. All he heard was his nervous breathing. Above him, the blood-crimson sky did not shift in colour or brightness as the sun rose over the towering mountains in the east, just as it would not darken as it set. Time was always still in this place.

    He lingered for a moment longer. Should he proceed? Of course not. Dragons were not safe alone anywhere in Elothar, least of all in these black woods. The Karura could strike at any time, from any place. He turned his long neck around and looked back towards the plains. They were miles behind him now. He had wandered too far from his clan.

    But what was this sensation? Some strange desire, an enchantment that he just couldn’t deny was propelling him into the unknown. What was it? He had to find out.

    He took his first step into the forest--

    --and his scaled legs froze beneath him. A high, torturous shriek battered and ravaged and clawed at his ears. He shut his eyes tight, his mind burning with alarm, and roared in pain.

    After an immeasurable while, but as suddenly as it had begun, the sound stopped. He jerked his head around to look for any possible source of it, but saw none. Zindra growled and tried to shake off the feeling of insecurity that had suddenly taken over him. Then he scolded himself for coming anywhere near the forest that his kind had feared for so long. He was about to turn and leave this forbidden place…when he saw a tiny, glistening thing, far into the dreadful depths of the wood. Even from the distance, he could see that it crackled and sparked in a way no natural thing should, and it was surrounded by a shining white...something.

    It was like nothing he had ever seen, not that he had seen much of interest in this forgotten, unchanging land: only his fellow beasts, the plants and occasionally the frolicking beings that dwelt within them. Sometimes the faeries would play with magic candles, which they called wisps, but this was no wisp. He knew it could not be fire, because he breathed flames, and though radiant, fire was not quite as amazing as this. If he hadn’t seen it there, he wouldn’t have believed that it existed.

    But he had. And that feeling, so strong, was still pulling him. So Zindra did the only thing he could.

    Very cautiously, he began to tread towards it. The piercing noise did not return; it must have been caused by the appearance of the sparkling thing, he assumed. Shadows began to surround him. Unless he glanced back at the plains, which were constantly illuminated by the red sky, the only light was the enigma that he was headed towards. Eventually, even the view behind him was swallowed by darkness as he moved ever forwards. The dragon took a deep breath as he walked on, and spat a flame out into air before him. Trees at either side of him were lit up for a second, before the ember vanished into smoke. The older dragons, those who practised magic, could keep a ball of fire suspended in the air for as long as they needed it, just like the faeries’ wisps. Zindra was still young and had had little practice. He could keep a stream of fire pouring for quite a while: that required no special skill, but it would probably set the forest alight. How he wished he had brought his elders with him now.

    As he drew closer to the shining object, he began to realise something fantastic: it was no object. It was translucent, ethereal, and like a fireball or a wisp, it was floating above the ground. It was bigger than he had thought, too. In fact, it looked about as tall and wide as Zindra himself. He stopped before it. A chilling shiver crept from the back of his head, down his long spine and to the barb at the end of his tail. He crouched low. The feeling in his head, the pulling, was now urging him to leap.


    Zindra.png



Chapter 3


The Swordmaster


The shaking stopped. Marik lay motionless at the side of the road. He stayed that way, his heartbeat gradually slowing down, his breaths deepening, until he felt ready to move again. He could never grow accustomed to the aching of the bones after these nights. He lifted his elbows and pushed his hands into the thick, sludgy, brown puddle beneath him, forcing himself, steadily, onto his knees. His head pounded. He wondered who or what he had killed, and whether he had fed. He sighed. But of course he had fed: his stomach was in agony; his belly bulged out in front of him like that of a woman expecting a baby. He was going to be sick.

    He dropped onto all fours and began to retch. He tasted something putrid like rotten meat in his breath, but he didn’t vomit. After some time, he managed to gather some strength and rose onto his feet.

    His sword. Where was his sword? And his cloak? He was freezing. His other clothes had probably been torn to shreds last night but his cloak always survived. He searched the area, each step feeling like a blow to his head. He eventually found the curved blade wedged into a tree trunk, and his cloak, caught in a branch high above. The Elementals only knew how it had gotten up there.

    The Swordmaster pulled his blade free and took a few steps backwards, his keen eyes measuring the cloak’s distance from the ground and from him. When he was satisfied, he readied the sword in his right hand, lifted it up over his head and threw it. It whirled through the air with the speed of a practised predator. Its hilt caught the cloak and dragged it free of the branch’s grasp, before plummeting down with it to the ground. He collected the voluminous brown rag and wrapped it around him.

    The clo-clop, clo-clop of horseshoes against cobbles drifted into his hearing. He looked behind him to see the far-off figure of a black steed bearing a rider. For a second, he was alarmed. Were they after him? But they wouldn’t recognise him anyway, the way he looked now. If questioned, he would lie and they would have no proof, and if they pushed him… Marik decided to pay them no attention. He sat himself down against the tree, closed his eyes and relaxed. His right hand loosely grasped the weapon at his side. In an hour or so, he would feel better, and then he would proceed to the Sage Towers.

    Clo-clop, clo-clop, clop... As the hoofbeats grew louder, they began to slow down, until they eventually stopped. The Swordmaster gripped his blade a little tighter. He opened his eyes. On the road was the largest horse he had ever seen, black as a moonlit silhouette and every bit as haunting. Its reins and saddle were as dark as its fur. Mounted atop the beast was a strange man. Ebony armour covered his body from his shoulders to his toes. A deep purple cape hung about him. His face looked extraordinarily white; his pallid skin lacked any wrinkles, but his long white hair made it impossible to guess at his age. When he realised the man was staring intently at him, the Swordmaster stood. He waited for a while. The rider made no move.

    “What do you want?” asked the Swordmaster.

    The pale man kept staring for another few moments. Then he blinked, and his upper lip curled backwards in disgust or fear. His teeth were sharp; upon seeing them, the Swordmaster felt a wave of some foggy feeling, perhaps familiarity, pulse through his mind, but then dissipate.

    In a fluid motion, the rider removed a gauntlet and his bare arm darted up. His five dagger-nailed fingers were stretched out wide, his milk-white palm faced  Marik, and a fay light shone from it...but that was all. Nothing happened. The stranger swore. It seemed that whatever illegal magic he’d tried to employ had failed. Perhaps the Sages had detected it and intervened.

    The Swordmaster slashed at the outstretched arm. The magician’s retreat was faster than Marik had ever seen: he swayed almost off the side of his horse, and his spine arched so far backwards that it must have been excruciating, but there was not even a grunt from him. Then, like an arrow released from a bow, he sprang forward with inhuman speed, his hands, one taloned and the other gloved in metal, reaching towards his opponent.

    Marik the Swordmaster was not an easy target. He swerved out of his assailant’s way and avoided the sorcerer’s grip, but still felt the sharp metal of the man’s black gauntlet scraping his cheek as he turned. His face became hot with blood and primal anger. Whoever this sorcerer was and whatever his intentions, he would regret drawing the blood of a Logrian Knight.



Chapter 5


The Caves of Hresgr


Drip... Drip... Drip…

    Water steadily splashed from the stone ceiling, deep within the Hresgr caves on the eastern coast of Esdrig. A crowd of tawny, hairless creatures sat in fixated anticipation. Their red and grey eyes gleamed with a thirst for blood. Their fanged mouths were ajar and dripping with saliva. Forked tongues lolled out. Long, thin tails with spikes at their tips waved and whipped in excitement.

    Their focal point was the same: from a hole in the ceiling, a single beam of light bore down through the darkness and illuminated the largest of the goblins. Gerdel crouched over the carcass of a walker. Its throat had been torn out and hung in red shreds from the Alpha Goblin’s mouth. He took hold of his victim’s forearm, set his clawed foot on its torso and pulled. With a snap and a red spray, the appendage was torn off. He crawled with it, spider-like, back into his pit.

    As soon as his back was turned, his underlings broke into a savagery over what remained of the corpse. They charged and tore and scraped and howled in a gruesome shower of blood and flesh. The cave echoed with the gleeful and violent cacophony of the monsters.

    When he reached his cold, wet chamber, he yanked off a finger and began to suck on it. There had been little reason for killing the walker. He needed no reason, other than that it meant slightly less bothersome hunting for bland deer and scrawny rabbits. Human meat was so much more delectable, after all. And it was amusing to watch them try to defend themselves. The human had been so afraid, its legs had been visibly shaking from the moment of its entry into the caves. When it had become clear that it was going to die, it had tried to put up a fight. Gerdel had allowed it no time to use its magic.

    For that was what it had been: a magician. A Mage, more precisely; an emissary from the Towers. As it turned out, the overlord of Esdrig, the ruler of the walkers, the Great Sage Kurmont, had requested a meeting with him.

    He emptied the finger of blood and threw it into his maw.


Book of Earth - Extracts (Updated 3rd May 2015)
These are the three shortest and most self-contained chapters in my first novel. I don't want to reveal the whole thing before I've finally completed it. I'm planning at least one illustration per chapter, so I might be updating this again some time soon. 

Note: the Sta.sh Writer messed up the paragraph spacing when I copied it in and I couldn't be bothered going through the whole thing changing it all. Sorry about that! 
Loading...
I'm phasing back into DeviantArt. I've been absent for the better part of three years, but I'm finally about to finish university and emerge a more learned and experienced writer. I'll try and throw together a journal entry in the next few weeks. 

deviantID

murdokdracul
Jacob Graham
Artist | Student | Literature
United Kingdom
Jacob Martin Peter Graham, born 11 June 1994.

I'm at the University of Salford studying English and Creative Writing.
I'm also in the midst of planning numerous fantasy stories, and writing my first, the title of which is "Book of Earth: The Ancient Heroes of Izgarv", or "Heroes of the Stars".

Collectively, the stories are called "The Elements of Izgarv".

Above is a labelled map of the archipelago on which the main stories take place, the Isles of Izgarv.

Since drawing is a huge hobby of mine, some sketches of the characters in my stories have been uploaded into my gallery. They can all be found in my folders.

I hope you like my writing and illustrations.
Interests
This is my first journal entry in THREE YEARS, so...yay to me being back! w00t! 

I've wanted to make a new entry in a while, and I think when I've finally finished my Creative Writing course at university (just 15 days left!) I'll maybe write a nice, heart-warming piece about the experience and what I've learned from it and no one will read it. But until then... I've just been reading the Wikipedia page of Terry Brooks, the awesome writer of the Shannara series, of which I admit I've only read three books so far, although I own almost all of them thanks to my fantasy-loving father.

Here are some quotes that I really like: 

"I would set my adventure story in an imaginary world, a vast, sprawling, mythical world like that of Tolkien, filled with magic that had replaced science and races that had evolved from Man. But I was not Tolkien and did not share his background in academia or his interest in cultural study. So I would eliminate the poetry and songs, the digressions on the ways and habits of types of characters, and the appendices of language and backstory that characterized and informed Tolkien's work. I would write the sort of straightforward adventure story that barreled ahead, picking up speed as it went, compelling a turning of pages until there were no more pages to be turned."

 "Environment is a character in my story and almost always plays a major role in affecting the story's outcome. I have always believed that fantasy, in particular, because it takes place in an imaginary world with at least some imaginary characters, needs to make the reader feel at home in the setting. That means bringing the setting alive for the reader, which is what creating environment as a character is really all about."
  • Mood: Lazy
  • Listening to: Moondance, Van Morrison
  • Reading: A lotta 'Postmodern' novels for uni
  • Playing: SSB4, Kirby: Rainbow Paintbrush, Pandora's Tower
  • Eating: Salmon (mmm)

AdCast - Ads from the Community

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconthesolipsisticsluagh:
TheSolipsisticSluagh Featured By Owner May 10, 2015  Professional Writer
Thank you for the favorite.
Reply
:iconomniac173:
OmniaC173 Featured By Owner May 8, 2015  Student General Artist
Thank u for the fav!
Look through my gallery if u have time, i'll really appreciate it:D (Big Grin) 
Reply
:icondalekcaanii:
DalekCaanII Featured By Owner May 5, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the watch! (sorry this is late ^^;)
:tighthug: :glomp: :heart:
Reply
:iconmurdokdracul:
murdokdracul Featured By Owner May 5, 2015  Student Writer
Handshake 
Reply
:iconmakkou4:
makkou4 Featured By Owner May 3, 2015   Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave!
Reply
:iconmurdokdracul:
murdokdracul Featured By Owner May 3, 2015  Student Writer
Very welcome!
Reply
:iconmcrkilljoyforlife:
MCRKillJoyforlife Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  New member
Thanks for the watch and the llama :3
Reply
:iconmurdokdracul:
murdokdracul Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  Student Writer
Thumbs UpNod very welcome! Same to you, and for the :+fav:!
Reply
:iconmcrkilljoyforlife:
MCRKillJoyforlife Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  New member
your welcome :)
Reply
:iconmcrkilljoyforlife:
MCRKillJoyforlife Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2015  New member
Thanks for the fave :3
Reply
Add a Comment: