Iron Quill - Shadow of Giants - The Right Man

[ThePandaDirector]

Took me longer than some

The Right Man (WIP)

Auguste Maquet's time was up.

He had no recollection how long he'd been kept in darkness, arms chained to a pipe with a sack over his head. Between stifled, hot breaths, it hadn't taken long to realise he was not long for this world. Such a fate was surely inevitable for a man like him-

The darkness lifted.

"Welcome to the light, Captain." A blurry face seemed to say, calm and well-spoken.

Auguste's vision focused on a small chamber, the pipe he was chained to leading to a boiler in the corner. The man standing over him was a brute. His deadly bulk was squeezed into a dead man's suit, like a murderer ready for a date with the gallows. The voice he'd heard clearly didn't belong to this man.

"That's it, wakey, wakey, Captain." The brute said, waving a breaching axe in Auguste's face like a smelling salt. The axe was Guild issue...

Auguste heard slow, purposeful steps as a second man paced into view. He was smartly dressed, with high boots and a long, wide collared jacket. A lawyer, or perhaps a highborn pimp, it was hard to tell. He judged, or mocked, Auguste behind gleaming spectacles.

"Jacob Samuels, you know him?" He said suddenly, making conversation.

"...Ye-yes, I've heard of him." Silence prompted him to continue. "He's the proprietor of Ringside, a reputable boxing club. Good enough for you? Now tell me who you are and why-"

"Are you aware of Mr Samuels' other... business venture?" The gentleman asked while his dog paced the room.

"You mean The Pits? Worst kept secret as far as the Guild is concerned. An underground den of blood sports and human trafficking." Auguste felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "Beyond the jurisdiction of the Guild, apparently. Now, you didn't answer my-"

"Does 'Valkyrie' mean anything to you?"

"No, I-"

"Thank you, Captain, you've been most cooperative." The man turned on his heels and went to the door. He rattled a cane on the oak three times, then turned to his companion. "Just the thumb, please."

Auguste and the brute objected.

"Wait! I've got nothing to do with Jacob Samuels, you've got the wrong man!" Auguste cried.

"I didn't drag my butt nowhere for one measly thumb!" The brute turned to Auguste. "I'm gonna chop both his paws off, then tie them round his neck like a necklace so he don't ever lose 'em." The gentleman smiled at an unspoken joke.

"Time will tell, but I have faith in you." The door opened behind him. "Just the thumb." He said, before leaving. The brute grumbled as he put away his axe and drew a knife.

"Consider this a deposit." He said as he pressed Auguste's right hand against the pipe. "I'll come for the rest later, don't you worry." Auguste tried to struggle, but only succeeded in entertaining his kidnapper. As he felt the pressure on his hand, he tried desperately to recall his training in dealing with pain.

When the pain started, he forgot it all.

*****

He woke in a different chamber; small, dank and empty. His chains were gone, and his right hand had clean bandages. He measured time by the meals he received; thick, hearty porridge in the morning, hot meaty broth in the evening. Or was it the other way round, there was no way to be sure. None of it made sense. Why kidnap, mutilate and imprison him, but keep him well fed.

He was thankful for the strength though. Time was passd with exercise and meditation, all the while holding onto the hope he could still fight his way out of this. Auguste had won the recognition of his superiors during the Bloody Debt last Winter. After having their pay suspended, the Union had gone on strike under the banner "A bloody day to win our pay". The Guild paid them a red fortune. Auguste made Captain not long after.

It made sense for this to be a Union plot, but that didn't explain those two men. They looked Guild sure enough, but were they acting on orders or conspirators in some malicious plot. What if the Governor's Secretary had reason to question Auguste's loyalty. He dreaded the thought.

The purpose of his latest investigation was privileged information. For the past month, Auguste had been trying to map the illegal soulstone trade. Progress was slow, but it was clear the Union had more than one finger in every pie. He tried to recall the last lead he'd found. The Gorgon's Tear...

The door swung open, and a trio of men rushed the room.

"On yer feet!" Said one of them as his companions forced Auguste to his feet. These men looked more like the brute than the gentleman.

He was then half dragged out his cell. They walked through corridors that looked more like alleyways, cobbled floor beneath a grey, impenetrable sky. The air was stuffy, the walls vibrating like a castle dungeon during a siege. His senses told him he was underground, but if that was so the room he entered was a perfect replication of a railway station bar. He was dumped in an expensive, dark wooden chair.

"Stay here and don't make a fuss."

With that Auguste was left alone in the most expensive bar he'd ever seen.

What's that noise? A... Train.

Through a paneled window on the far side, he saw a train roll into the station. Shortly after, a man entered the bar. He was younger than Auguste, dressed in a smart, dark suit likely tailored in Little Kingdom. As he drew closer, it took Auguste only one glance to tell this was a man not born into high society.

"I see no one offered you a drink." He announced to the room, attempting to hide his displeasure. "My apologies, Sir." He took a seat, unbuttoning and buttoning his jacket.

Moments later, half a dozen men and women hurried to deliver food and refreshments, before fleeing as fast as they'd came.

Auguste stared off against the man. There were scars behind his eyes, signs of a past that cast a long shadow.

"Do you know who I am?" He said, reclining in his chair. "Please, help yourself to refreshments." Auguste took a whisky, feeling more like he was in a business meeting than another interrogation.

"Why don't you educate me." Auguste said coolly, trying to hide scars of his own. The man just smiled as Auguste raised the drink to his lips.

"My name is Jacob Samuels." Auguste coughed into his drink. "Educating enough for you?"

"So this was your doing?" He raised his maimed hand. "All this... Why? Why me? Tell me!"

"Let me stop you there. I played no part in your change in circumstances. Be assured though, I will profit from it. So eat and drink, and cherish the time you have left, because your questions won't be troubling you for much longer."

*****

The Pits. That was where it would all end.

From what he'd heard from the idle chatter of his captors, Jacob Samuels looked after those who made him money. It seemed Auguste had made him a killing, and Samuels planned to repay him in kind.

After more food and refreshments, Auguste was led into a warm room lined with benches.

Alone again.

A woman walked into the room with a bucket, her gait slightly off; less a limp, more a... stutter. She didn't show any signs of pain, her pretty face a perfect picture of serenity. It took a moment for her to meet Auguste's gaze, even then keeping her head bowed in polite submission.

"Can I help you?" He felt stupid the moment he said it. She shook her head, forcing a shy smile. She drew closer, water sloshing as she stuttered. She placed the bucket at his feet, looking him over. Her skin looked flat, and smooth. Her dress was simple, yet revealing, increasing the liklihood she was a working girl. She began to pull his top off.

"Wait, wait, that won't be necessary." He pulled his shirt down, much to her confusion. "You can tell Samuels that I won't be needing your services. I need a priest not a whore."

"I am no whore." She said feebly in a dialect he wasn't familiar with. Auguste looked her over, a guardsman again.

"Do you perform sexual acts for money or favour?" The girl hid her shame.

"To be whore, first must be people. I am no people." She said. At first Auguste didn't understand, until he looked closer. He reached his unmaimed hand and touched her shoulder. Remarkable. He thought to himself. He had seen the colourful, if crude, mannequins during shows at the Star, but this was something else.

"Mr Samuels ask me to wash you and dress you." She bent down for a sponge, while Auguste took his top off. "And do not panic" she said, her voice like clockwork. "I know basic rites. They mulch your body for feed, but I take care of your soul."

*****

"You will face a giant today. You will face him in shadow. But do not forget, it is the crowd who are the real giant, and in their shadow your fate will be decided."

"That's all good and well, Harold, but this ain't no fight. This is an execution, Samuels' orders."

"Then what the bloody 'ell is he doing here?"

"You know, as it happens, I've been asking myself that very question."

"Oh yes, hur, hur, now there ain't no pep talk for you, sonny, now sling it."

That was the last conversation he had before being planted in front of the huge, iron gate. The last faces he was likely to see, before the gate was lifted, and he stepped into darkness.

He stumbled forward, blindly. Time passed slowly.

Then the darkness lifted, rising from the ground, fading to shadow before it could illuminate the bustling crowd above. The figure that stepped towards him was no gentlemen, or brute, or businessman, or clockwork plaything.

It was a giant.

The Steamborg Executioner had seen better days, but it was still a towering mass of metal and flesh and death.

Auguste Maquet's time was up. So he did the only thing he could do. He charged.

And he died.

He saw light, then himself dodging the Executioner's fatal claws. Instead of dying, he fought. All to the distant sound of clockwork and cheering.

His fate was inevitable, but Auguste Maquet still had time.

---

Ingredients:

Theme: In the Shadow of Giants

Character: The Clockwork Girl

Line: "Don't panic, I know basic [blank]"

Item: Severed thumb

Word Count: 1720

Needs some editing down, but I wanted to get feedback first. I originally wrote this story with indented paragraphs, but the forum doesn't seem to like that.

Hold nothing back =D

Edited January 26, 2014 by ThePandaDirector

[ScrewedUpDice]

The following is me going through line by line. It ranges from big questions, to minor gripes, and possible a good dose of me being thick.

I like the story arc, and the element of mystery as to why Auguste has been thrown to the Pit (not many people in Malifaux are going to know why they die after all), and as I highlight below, there are some really nice lines in there.

Open Spoiler

How does Auguste know it's a pipe? Is he chained in such a way that he can feel it? Can he move along the pipe? Is he standing? Sitting? The brute stands over him, but it's not clear if that's based on size or relative position. Does any light come in through the sack hood?

I'd cut the second paragraph off sooner, as it finishes on what could be taken as a full sentence, rather than mid thought.

Why is he able to hear the second man, but not register the approach of the first, or follow the direction of the voice? Surely he hears the door open as they enter.

Is there a subtle implication in the fourth/fifth paragraph that Auguste is long-sighted?

A blurry face seemed to say, calm and well-spoken.

This sounds as though the face is calm and well-spoken.

squeezed into a dead man's suit

I like the phrase, but I don't get what you mean by it.

The voice he'd heard clearly didn't belong to this man.

Surely he knows this by dint of direction, not appearance?

Auguste heard slow, purposeful steps as a second man paced into view.

It's a smaller chamber, where has he been hiding?

He judged, or mocked, Auguste behind gleaming spectacles.

From behind? Something in the rhythm or phrasing knocks me out here.

Auguste answering questions without offering resistance seems off. He's been trained to deal with pain, so surely this training also extends to resisting interrogation etc? His captures also seem far too willing to believe him. There needs to either be reasoning for accepting that he knows nothing about Valkyrie; the answer given in a manner far too angry and quick for a lie, or that it's only a minor worry.

while his dog paced the room.

This seems an odd point to introduce the dog, to never be mentioned again.

but only succeeded in entertaining his kidnapper

"Kidnapper" seems at odds with the suggestion that the brute is unfamiliar, and feels like he's been put out by having to see Auguste/only sever a thumb.

You mention the meals, but make no mention of the difficulty of eating them with a thumb missing.

He was thankful for the strength though.

This paragraph seems awkward. The tense/sense of the next sentence feels off, and the mention of Auguste's past feels out of place here.

The Guild paid them a red fortune.

I like this phrase

It made sense for this to be a Union plot

Putting something about his role in the riots might fit better here.

Auguste had been trying to map the illegal soulstone trade

This seems like something the Guild would be throwing resources at, not just a hush hush one man job.

"On yer feet!" Said one of them as his companions forced Auguste to his feet.

I'd get rid of the repetition of feet.

He was then half dragged out his cell.

This paragraph seems confusing. The mention of alleyways and sky seems to directly contradict the idea of being underground. How does he sense he's underground anyway? Why is the castle dungeon metaphor relevant to Auguste? Why a railway station bar? What features would that have that any other bar wouldn't? Why would a railway station bar be expensively appointed? What's the significance of Samuel's arriving by train? Is it his bar, or has he taken it over for this meeting. What's behind Samuel's manner? If it's just how he is, fair enough, but he seems to be cutting into his own profits with this sort of treatment. Why feast the man you're about to have executed.

What's that noise? A... Train.

No capital on train. Why has this thrown him, when he's in a railway bar?

Through a paneled window on the far side, he saw a train roll into the station.

What's a panelled window? Why doesn't he go to the window and look out?

Why does Auguste not make any attempt to escape the room/why do his captors assume he'll stay put?

As he drew closer, it took Auguste only one glance to tell this was a man not born into high society.

What's the give away?

He announced to the room, attempting to hide his displeasure.

Surely he wouldn't bother to hide it?

He took a seat, unbuttoning and buttoning his jacket.

This seems a sign of nervousness.

There were scars behind his eyes, signs of a past that cast a long shadow.

I like this.

It seemed Auguste had made him a killing

I get the wordplay, but I don't follow the sense of it.

Alone again.

Why emphasise this? Why doesn't he take the change to escape? It feels out of place to follow this with someone entering the room.

Her skin looked flat, and smooth. Her dress was simple, yet revealing, increasing the liklihood she was a working girl.

Flat suggests a spacial quality, rather than a textural one. Dull is no better, as in faces I'd read that as uninteresting rather than non-reflective. "Increasing the likelihood" suggests something else before this implies that she is.

He reached his unmaimed hand

Reached out?

Remarkable. He thought to himself.

I'd either make this one sentence, or fiddle things to be able to drop it entirely. We've been inside his head before, but this feels a bit too far/jarring in the midst of the exchange/description.

And do not panic" she said, her voice like clockwork. "I know basic rites.

Well done for working an this in seamlessly. It passed me by until I saw it in your ingredients list.

They mulch your body for feed, but I take care of your soul."

Another great line

The clockwork girl seems far and away more advanced than anything else seen in Malifaux, if she can pass for human so convincingly. This seems an odd use for such a presumably expensive piece of technology (Unless no one else knows she's clockwork (seems unlikely, but could be a fun storyline to follow. Blade Runner in Malifaux. Anyway...). When and why has she learned\been taught rites?

Auguste ought to have difficulty with his shirt with his lack of thumb.

"You will face a giant today.

The lines are really making me work for the sense of them. Here's what I got: Auguste is in an antechamber with at least three other fighters or guards, one of whom (Harold?) thinks Auguste is going out there for a fair fight, hence the wordy speech. The second speaker has a better grasp of events. The third interjects, suggestion that execution fights generally happen elsewhere? The fourth line is Auguste, making unlikely light of the situation. The last line is either the second or third speaker again.

Then the darkness lifted, rising from the ground, fading to shadow before it could illuminate the bustling crowd above.

I like the phrasing here, but I don't follow the meaning of it. Would the gentleman be in the crowd somewhere, making sure Auguste dies.

a towering mass of metal and flesh and death.

Really like this.

Auguste Maquet's time was up. So he did the only thing he could do. He charged.

I like the image of charging the Steamborg, but it seems out of character for Auguste, who's been very passive so far. This is the first indication that he wants to fight this, and even then it's going along with his fate.

The fight seems a too heavily one sided way to kill someone. If it's a warning/message it's too quick. Likewise for anyone wanting to see a Steamborg in action (although dropping a man with a single swipe is probably pretty impressive). Does Auguste enter the arena with the other fighters or do they come out after he's dead, to really show off the Steamborg? I get the sense from the last bit of dialogue this might be the case, but it isn't wholly clear.

And he died.

I like the use of the strikethrough, and how it sets up what comes next. The finial two paragraphs do feel slightly disconnected from the rest of the story. What's the significance of the light and the clockwork?

Overall it's a good story, and the above is getting really granular, at time digging into writing mechanics/your thought process rather than the entry itself. I hope it's of use, but feel beyond free to ignore it all.

I look forward to seeing your comments on "Cog Fight".

[Hateful Darkblack]

Fun read!

The story and plot are interesting. I'm a little confused about what exactly is happening - why was he captured again? - but that might just be me being dense.

[ThePandaDirector]

I always get agitated when waiting for feedback. If I get none I always put it down to my story being rubbish..

ScrewedUpDice, you've torn my story apart, stage by stage, and left it scared and ashamed in some dark, dank alley of the internet. Thank you. Really. Some people think feedback's all about saying a few happy words of support, others think it's about making creative decisions for the writer. What great feedback does is it opens the writer's eyes to what they missed. You've certainly done that here :-) I was so focussed on not being too thematic and description heavy, that I didn't notice the story made limited sense to anyone else. It was supposed to be a multi-part story, hence some lingering questions, but while I'd defend a couple points*, the majority of your statements ring true. I think the problem I had was trying to tell too big a story in too few words, as even ignoring the lingering questions, there's plenty overlooked because of the word count. I think a simpler story next time :-D

*The dog is the brute, but I guess without reinforcement the imagery can be taking literally. A point about the interrogation is that Auguste is not giving away anything secret, why go through pain for what's common knowledge? The clockwork girl looks real from a distance and in poor light, her skin flat because of the material. In my infinite wisdom, I chose to hold back the answers to everything, thinking that less could be more, but it seems to just confuse.

I might post a different story before the deadline, after posting feedback on everyone's stories. If I do get another done, I'd appreciate feedback on it too (I know it's greedy). Feel free to continue sharing your thoughts on this piece.

[ScrewedUpDice]

I feel I may have gone a little far. There are more than a few points of personal preference in there, and certainly the confusion may be wholly my own; breaking things down for reviewing might be partly to blame for not seeing the bigger picture for instance.

I happy welcome you to do the same to my piece. The point of the story is to get images in someone else's head. I can only tell if my words are having the desired effect if I get a response.

Judging if the sesne of the story holds out on paper/screen is hard for a writer, especially if you're reading over a piece not long after writng. There's too much of the story still in your head, and it fills in the blanks for you (likewise missing words when editing- see my Ringside reference going walkabout).

I think the multi-part story works, it's just needs some nods to the transitions. A line about selling Auguste to the Pits at the end of the first section for instance.

The word limit is very tight. I swing between thinking there are some stories that just can't be told in the space, and thinking that I'm not skilled enough to tell the story in the space. Somewhere between the two fits personal decisions about the story, and a gathering of darlings that should be killed.

I don't think you need a simplier story, you just need to find a simplier way to tell it; cut this down to it's bare bones, and use the communities assumed knowledge to fill in the blanks. Do it right and it'll be fantastic.

The dog image only requires an extra line to make clear. Likewise Auguste giving away information. We're in his head, so you can give us a little more of his thinking. Leaving it hanging lets the reader fill his skull with all the wrong motives. The clockwork girl scene only requires a little more description of the room and her to make your intentions clear. You only need to make slight adjustments to clear things just enough for the reader. Better this than beat them over the head with a point; you left me thinking about your story, which is part of the point.

I'd been interested to see this story reworked, either for Iron Quill, or letting it run to the legnth you want outside of the comp (I've got more than a few pieces that deserve that treatment). I'll happily give feedback again, it's a better way to judge a piece than by introspection and doubt.

---------- Post added at 08:16 AM ---------- Previous post was at 07:53 AM ----------

Further to my musings about word limit. You can also argue it's up to the writer to know what space suits a story, and make the right decision about how compressed they dare make it. Not just from a technical stand point but from one of writing the best story possible with the ideas.

[ashenlion]

I smiled at the end with the crossed out section XD

 

I know what you mean about the forum, but over all I enjoyed the read and I really liked the ending.