Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Tales of the Windfolk

But, shortly after Elher turned 14, a plague struck the Aerogull people, cutting down about a third of the population. The plague caused a sudden disability to breath, and victims died within a matter of days. Elher was one of the victims, perhaps the first, and after the Aerogull people recovered, no more Airlords were born.
Alas, another was born, without anyone knowing it. Her name was Gillia, a funny, adventurous child from the aircity of Gull Wing. Her parents were Edward and Cilia Hester, both loving and caring parents who were happy to let Gillia wander about the city, exploring and having fun with other rambunctiously-minded children.

This is where our tale starts, friends. Gillia is a 13 year-old girl, with absolutely no doubt about her signing up for the Skywolves.

But all good Skywolves have their share of adventures before they join, and Gillia will be no exception.

Gull Wing is a pleasant city which, at the moment, is floating above the inner areas of Japan. Gull Wing is mostly just a residential and commercial city, and only has a few docking ports for skyships. It is one of the many cities that has grown plants on it, vines and jungle trees that intertwine around the houses made of lightwood and timber, shading certain wood and stone streets and giving the city a wonderful, contemplative air.
It has a main street, where most of the shops are located, and that street leads to a big open square, for holding the markets every second sunday.

Gillia's family live near the centre of the city, close to the market. When Gillia was born, a midwife passed the child to her father, due to the fact that her mother had passed out. Oddly enough, Gillia was crying, not hiccuping on the high air. Edward, her father, dismissed this thought from his mind, and started teaching Gillia the bad habit of biting one's nails as he waited, white-faced, to see what happened to Gillia.
Twas not to fear, though, for soon his wife aroused in the bright, warm confines of the birthing room, and Edward passed her her daughter, a big grin on his face. Gillia stopped crying and looked around, at Cilia, Edward, the birthing room, and then, scouting finished, started crying again.

Now, a 13 year old girl with a quirky mind and no chance of being put down by men, runs around the streets and climbs the trees of Gull Wing with a gang of like-minded children.


Gillia had always liked this tree on the fringe of the city. She liked how it leaned over the edge, dangerous, but if you trusted the tree, it kept you safe. Her friends were playing lightball, a complicated game involving a ball with a lightwood core that made it float around, but a city Elder had given the ball a hematite shell around the core, making its progress erratic, and hard to follow. The game was like four square, and was easy to be eliminated from. Gillia liked the game, even though she often failed in it, and now she sat in the tree, content to watch.
She took out her own 'tamed' floball, as the balls were called, and tossed it up gently and poked it, moving it around her, intent on it's progress.
But, the ball still had a hematite coating, and chucked itself suddenly over to the land. It was about to drive itself into the ground when a big, long-fingered hand caught it and looked up at the thrower. The hand's owner was named Garrett, who occasionally led the gang, and was no coward when adventure came knocking, just like Gillia. He had fare skin, tanned a bit by the sun, and thoughtful but playful features. A strong nose, slightly large forehead, piercing grey eyes and a mop of dark hair.

Dang it, i keep getting interrupted.

I'll continue from where i was.


He wore, like most children, trousers and a white shirt, but he also wore a thin coat which reached to his thighs, and he was quite proud of.
He was leaning on a wooden beam which jutted over the edge. He must have been sitting there, in one of his thoughtful moments.
Gillia was fast to thank him. "Thanks a ton. Its stupid coating made it fly over the edge. I wish the elders didn't make all floballs that way."
"I know." said Garret. "My one threw itself over once, and came back up a minute later. They're crazy things."
Gillia clambered down from the tree, while Garrett scooted back and started ordering the kids to wrap up their games.
"Come on, guys. Were heading back to the Tree Village"

Nice story. In the beginning, I think you should have elaborated a bit more on what relations are like between the Aerogull people and those who live down on the Earth.

As for the epidemic, I'm not sure what the purpose of having it in the story was, since after you mentioned it, it pretty much abruptly came out of the picture. You should tie it in more, like maybe commenting on how it affected the Aerogulls as a whole. Perhaps there is a shortage of elders because of it, and the civilizations' younger people are beginning to question the elders' power. I don't know. Just throwing stuff out there.

This, in a way, depends on your style for the story you're writing, but I'd also suggest using more imagery. Give us a more concrete description of important things. Garrett's description is a nice example. I'm not saying you should describe everything, because that can get a little dull, but let's say that the marketplace is an important place for your story, then obviously you'd provide a good description of it. A little bit more description for Gillia, for example. Tell us about what she's like.

And lastly, in my opinion, you should have elaborated a bit more on why the elders apply hematite on them.

Your story flows well, and is pretty pleasurable to read because of it. It just has a few grammatical errors.
A nice resource for character development.

Anyway, keep writing. It's pretty interesting to read.

The Tree Village served as the headquarters for the kids of Gull Wing. It consisted of huge, towering trees with massive trunks, surrounding a big center area, with the whole section being walled off to the rest of the city. The only adults who had seen it so far were the carpenters and ropemasters who had helped build the place. Rigging led up to small huts and platforms, connected by rope bridges and ratlines. There was a big center platform, suspended from all sides, which was where the kids gathered for meetings.
There were also many lamps, dotted around the huts and ropes, which were lit every night by the Lamptender. The Lamptender was a quiet, tall skinny boy, who had a love for darkness, but also a love for things to ward it off. He was regarded with respect and awe, as he was amazingly wise for his age. He wore a loose, deep blue robe, and carried a long staff with a lamp wick at the end, which he lit and used to light the lamps.
At night, the Village resembled a nest of fireflies, with big, warm yellow lights everywhere, some of them moving as the kids on watch looked around.
The Watch of the Oak, as they were called, were a group of kids who guarded and protected the Village. They threw out bullies, and once, when a vile orphan was terrorizing the kids, they chucked him from one of the upper platforms. They dragged his corpse away and threw it into the streets.
The Watch wore big coats with normal clothes underneath, and carried wooden swords, made by a head carpenter, which were well balanced and the Watch were trained to use. At night, they held ornate Halio-type lanterns, and wandered the platforms.
The Village never turned away anyone, no matter who they were, and even cared for kids at night who had no home or couldn't sleep.
But it was a bright, merry place, where kids had fun, and despite the danger of the height, no one had ever killed themselves.
So their sanctuary was left alone, peaceful.

Woops. I'll write a description of Gillia.

Gillia wore normal kid's clothes, apart from a sky-blue greatcoat that had come from her grandfather, a city elder who had been cut down in the last parts of the plague. Her features were tight, apart from big, curious green eyes and a mane of silky dark hair which flowed down her back. Her gaze was full and penetrating, and her adventurous ideals left no room for cowards and liars.

More beginning info;
Not too long from now, humanity gave in to its warlike nature, and countries blew each other to pieces over resources and power. What was left was a fledgling people who had bits from the old world, mostly technology. Most of them were hateful, and proceeded to make small forts and stay there, but the Aerogulls, formally a mix of different countries, studied for years until they finally had the correct mixture. Wood that was lighter-than-air. They called it lightwood, and with it, they took to the skies, leaving the rest of the vile, spiteful humans to their fate.

Plague;
The plague many Elders. Elders are older folk who lead most towns, and have a mixture of science and magic in their minds. The can make things float about, especially a rock called Rodan, which has a orange and black coloration. the plague killed many of them, and the normal folk could question their rule. After all, their precious Airlord had died, and there were no more being born. The people wanted their own government, so the Elders were shoved aside, and newer, younger leaders were elected.

everyone was relaxing, dangling their legs over edges in the Tree Village, when the alarms started.
They were a steady; WOOOOOOP. WOOOOOOP.
Generally, this wouldn't happen. The Wolfship would take care of it. But Gull Wing's Wolfship was away, and the only men at arms left were a small group of riflemen and retired Skywolves.
Garrett bellowed above the incessant murmur that had started. "BE QUIET!!! Fergus, Helhass, take some of the Watch and see if we have to leave or not."
Two kids in Watch of the Oak livery nodded and gathered some of their own to go through the narrow gate.
"Everyone else, stay calm. No adult can get in here if we don't want 'em to!" Continued Garrett.
They waited, biting nails and whispering, until about ten minutes later, the Watch came back.
"There's a big, metal skyship off the side.", started one. "There ain't supposed to be metal skyships! The Elders have told everyone to stay in their houses, and the kids stay here"
"What if they-'started a kid, when a large group of men dressed i black, well, things, fell from the treetops.
They didn't ask for tea and biscuits.

The black-clad men carried rifles, of a sort. But when they started firing, the guns shot nets, not bullets, which ensnared the scared and panicked children as they tried to flee.
Several members of the watch tried fighting back, and they managed to subdue to the of men before they to were caught. Soon, 80% of the kids of Gull Wing were stuck in nets. Strange, small craft started to drift down, their crew collecting their men and the nets full of screaming, distressed children. After collecting their quarry, the ships left, floating back up above the treetops and then shooting off.

I don't feel like writing much at the moment, sorry

Gillia and the others had had a gas sprayed over them in the small ships, which knocked them out. Gillia awoke in a tight, metal prison cell, with Garrett and the head of the Watch, Emily. Their cell was one of many, made of metal bars, with all the cells joined together, another row on the other side. Between the rows was a wide walkway, with bright, morgue-white lights above it. A burly, short guard with a trimmed beard and dark grey overalls was rattling a strange, short club made of a shiny black material on the bars of the cells, waking everyone.
"Wakey wakey, Windfolk. Overseer's gonna see ya" said the guard, in a gravely voice
The man went all the way down the corridor, than walked back up and stood by a doorway with a big metal hatch on it. Another man walked in, wearing off-white trousers and a big, grey coat, with a monocle over one eye. His face was tight and grim, his brown eyes small, alert.
He walked slowly down the corridor, looking at each cells occupants, who were as still and silent as statues. He walked back to the doorway, saying to the guard; "Well, they aren't pretty, but with the work they'lll be doing, I guess it isn't necessary to be good-looking."
With that, the man strode out, followed by the guard who slammed the hatch shut behind them.

__--~Sitque Libera Ventis~--__

The children waited, quiet, in their cells, for days. Every 4 hours or so, a guard came in, with food that consisted of a grey, porridge-like mush, and a bottle of water, for every cell. Talking was rare, and they had no idea where they were, but a kid said they were definitely flying.
They were bored, scared, hungry, and otherwise miserable. All they could here was an incessant pounding, at the opposite end from the door. They gathered that that was the engines, so paid it no heed.
But on the 5th or 6th day of their imprisonment, they heard alarms. They also heard muffled shouts form outside, shouts of "SKYWOLVES! SKYWOLVES!"
The kids were instantly hopeful, a rescue was coming. Gunfire started, first from the ship they were on, then the zaps of Refractor Cannon. They cheered as they heard every explosion on their ship, till a huge, yellow beam seared through one of the prison cells.
Kids screamed.
Gillia looked at the cell where the shot had been. The charred, roasted remains of its inhabitants still smoked. People started vomiting, crying, wailing, calling for their parents. But the help hadn't been all that helpful. they still heard fighting, and Garrett, Emily and Gillia could look outside. They could see four medium skyships pummeling whatever it was they were attacking with cannon fire. Then, when the firing on their ship stopped, they could see smaller skyships coming from the big ones.
They waited a bit, then they heard a big clanging outside the hatch. That's when a bunch of Skywolves burst in, eager to keep fighting.

The little thing I added between the two parts is latin. It means, 'let the wind be free'

Here are a couple of pictures of skyships. They're all different, as they're from different people's point of view.





Now, hopefully, you have an idea of what they look like

Aw, only the first one worked. Luckily, that's the most realistic.

The Skywolves wore mostly trousers, a white shirt and a large, brown leather coat lined with sheepskin. They carried an assortment of rifles, swords, daggers and pistols. 10 or so had barged into the room, weapons ready, only to find crying, wailing children. One, at the head, wearing a dark green bandanna shouted for everyone to be quiet, then noticed the hole in the wall, still smoking from the beam that had seared through it. He smelt the scent of burned flesh, and his face, hardened and callused by the skies, softened, and he spoke in a quiet voice to one of the other Skywolves. The man nodded and ran back out, his boots clanging on the metal. The leader then started to speak;
"Hello, my name is Carnassus Seldon. We were sent to chase down this ship after its crew stole you kids from your homes. I am afraid that your fair city, Gull Wing, has bee destroyed."
Gasps came from everyone in the room, no matter what age. Gillia felt tears flow, and Garrett and Emily both fell down, as if the news had been an immense weight put on top of them. People started to cry, softly, unwilling to be shouted at.
"No one could escape," continued Carnassus, "This ship fired a salvo at the city as they left. I am sorry, but we must leave here." He flicked his hand at the men behind him, and with what devices of destruction they carried, they battered down the doors to the cells.
When Gillia and Garrett were free, they ran over to Carnassus, who was talking to one of the men.
"Sir" began Gillia, "Garrett and I want the fighting kids given weapons. There must still be men on this ship, and we want to hit them a couple times, say thirty"
All of Gillia's sorrow was gone. She would not dwell on it. The men on this ship were the cause, and she intended to make them pay.
"But you're just kids-" began Carnassus.
"Shut up. I do not care of age. Age didn't stop us when we made the Tree Village. Age didn't stop us when we trained with swords. Age didn't stop us when we threw Doyle from the upper platform, and it didn't stop us when we watched his body fall down and break its horrible neck on the ground. So, if you please. WEAPONS."
Carrnassus, to his credit, was a bit frightened by this fierce, iron-hearted girl, so he snapped at the man he was talking to.
"You, bring me thirty or so swords. And be quick about it."
Garrett was mustering up the sorrowful kids.
"Listen guys! I know it's horrible to have lost our city, our homes, our parents, but we must get out of here, so that we may give them a proper funeral. So that their legacies may continue, not stop on this overgrown hunk of flying metal. Now, we can take revenge on those who killed our mums and dads, older friends and family. Now, we can drive swords through their evil hearts, just as they drove bullets through our families! Now is the time we will fight!"
Everyone cheered, a massive, ear-splitting cheer, and the kids surged forward, eager to destroy something. The Skywolves dived to the sides, desperate not to be flattened.
The kids were given swords, as they were all between 9 and 15, and were no stranger to violence and could all fight if they had to, especially the Watch, Garrett and Gillia. They stormed through the strange, metal ship, through large rooms, tight corridors, dismantling any who stood in their path. They didn't kil anyone, only injured them, but the crew of the metal skyship were more afraid of these armed kids than they were of the Skywolves, and paled as they saw the gangs of yelling, overcharged kids.

Phew, can't write anymore. I'll continue later

The Skywolves hadn't killed many of the crew, so the kids had plenty of people to hit. After they had knocked out or wounded the whole crew, twisted some knobs and pressed big red buttons in the strange, high-tech engine room, and spun the helm till their arms were sore, they were taken aboard different Wolfships. Some wanted to be taken to another city or town and start again, some wanted to go to the capital, Airteryx, and some, like Garrett, Emily and Gillia, wanted to take to the skies in Wolfships, ahead of time.
Garrett and Gillia had met the captain of the Imperator, a tall, charismatic man named Jonathan Grimill, who wore a deep red, sheepskin-lined coat, black waistcoat, black trousers and big, complicated boots. A longsword in its scabbard hung from his left hip, and his hand often rested at the hilt, constantly assuring himself that it was there. He had taken them both aboard and showed them the different parts of the ship.
Skyships, he said, were not unlike the tall ships of old, only a) they flew, and b) they had sails on the side too, and one probably wouldn't live if one fell overboard. He showed us the capstan, which lifted heavy objects aboard such as cannon and large crates. He showed us the sails and rigging, and he showed us the cannon and armory.
Gillia became concerned when Garrett started breathing much deeper and swaying when the ship took itself higher. Gillia told Grimill.
"It's the air." He said in slightly labored tones. "We all get a little sick up here." Then he noticed Gillia, who wasn't having the faintest problem with the air. "Child," started Grimill, "Why aren't you sick?"
"Hmm." She shrugged. "Nothing wrong with the air up here"
Jonathan regarded her curiously, than said "Come with me"
He led her to the stern of the ship, and into the captains cabin.
The cabin was well lit but seemed dark, peaceful. A large table sat in the center of the room. There was a single bed in a corner, and everywhere else there were chests, lockers and other holders. A large, decorative window looked out behind the ship.
"Come over here" said John. "I've got something for you"
He bent over a large chest and pulled it open.

Excuse me, I'll have to write more later.

From the chest, he pulled out a coat. It was a coat of the most beautiful, midnight-blue, with gold trim and crimson bars on the folded-back cuffs. It would reach down to Gillia's lower legs, and was lined in certain places with sheepskin. The buttons were colored gold, and the coller was large and could be folded up.
"I got this in Airteryx, but I've never cause to wear it" said the captain, his weathered features in an expression akin to a grandfather retelling old times. "I think, Gillia, that you should have it."
"What about my old coat?" She asked, speaking of the sky blue, simple greatcoat she wore.
"oh, you can always wear that!" He said. "But this was made for the skies!" With that, he flourished his hand at the large stern window, which showed clouds falling into the distance and a bright blue sky.
"I also have these" He walked to a large, black wood cabinet and opened it. Inside was a vast array of swords, knives, guns, bows.
He pulled out two identical things, and gave one to her. It was a longsword, currently sheathed, with a deep blue metal pommel, and fresh leather hilt bindings.
'It's made like the Japanese of old made their swords" he said, "They started out very long, then kept folding the sword back and flattening it with hammers. That sword is very hard, very easy to sharpen, and quite light. Also, because of the quality and forging process, the blade has a slight bluish tinge. Go ahead, look at it"
Gillia unsheathed the sword. It was perfectly balanced, even for her, and the blade was indeed slightly blue.
"But.....why?" she asked. "I don't deserve these fine things"
"Ah" he said, sounding wise and grandfatherly, "Yes you do."

"After all, all Skywolves need good atire and a great sword!"