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Ring-Maker [Worm/Lord of the Rings Alt-Power] [Complete]

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In response to complaints that the speech in Douse 6.3 gave people emotional whiplash and was difficult to take seriously, I have added several lines of buildup before it begins, just after Annatarr comes up to Dean. Any feedback is appreciated.
 
I honestly am a bit confused as to how to prevented people from taking it seriously, but then I've found people having reactions I never considered with my own stories. Sometimes people just fixate on things you don't expect to be an issue.
 
Grounders10 said:
I honestly am a bit confused as to how to prevented people from taking it seriously, but then I've found people having reactions I never considered with my own stories. Sometimes people just fixate on things you don't expect to be an issue.
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I'm reminded of a friend of mine--Blackmarch, on QQ--who literally had a reader fixate on the brand of apples Taylor used in her magic instead of the porn. That was confusing.
 
Lithos Maitreya said:
It was, to an extent, but it wasn't supposed to prevent people from taking the speech seriously. We wound up dipping into a sort of weird reverse bathos, and that was more than I wanted.
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Meh, the real reason why is unbelievable is because Taylor does not go all "I'm Annatar, daughter of Annete, blood of the Gift Giver...!" for like 10 minutes.

0/10 not real Tolkien!!!! Do not want!1

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:p
 
Lithos Maitreya said:
Any feedback is appreciated.
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In other stories, the protagonist giving an awesome speech is a prelude to awesome things happening. In this story, an awesome speech is indicative that Taylor is in the process of fucking up and the Wards are about to lose again.

As a reader, these literary cues point out the direction the story is going. The protagonist takes charge, gives an awesome speech, galvanizes her teammates into action... and then they get caught in a Tinker bomb, or get scattered by Leviathan without accomplishing anything. Whatever it is, they lose, hard. It's a sucker punch to the reader to defy their expectations like this, which can give impact to whatever twist you pull out, but if you do it too often (and so far we're two for two on this) you lose the reader's trust in these cues. At some point you're going to want them to win, and you'll write Taylor giving an awesome speech that gets everybody fired up, they all charge in together, using their powers to support one another like heroes are supposed to... and it'll be ruined for me because I won't be able to trust the cues and get invested. I'll just be sitting there with my butthole puckered the whole time because I'm expecting them to get blindsided and lose again since that's what always happens.

I'm not saying they needed to be able to beat Bakuda, or that they need to beat Leviathan. I'm just saying that playing the glorious victory music every time they're about to fucking lose ruins the effect of glorious victory music when you want to play it before they win.
 
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Very good points. I intended to have some of that effect, but I think I've gone too far. It's still manageable, but I'll have to work to overcome it at some point in the future. Thank you for pointing it out.
 
There's no better time to update everyone than now.

Arc 6 is now fully drafted. This includes the following chapters:

6.4, which will be posted tomorrow.
6.5, which will be posted this Friday.
6.6, which will be posted next Monday.
Interlude 6b, which will be posted next Friday (tentative).
From the Journal of Annatar 2, which will be posted two days after Interlude 6b.
And 6.7, which will be posted the Monday after Interlude 6b.

Of these chapters, 6.4, 6.5, and 6.6 have all been betaread to a high standard. I am confident that 6b, the Journal, and 6.7 will soon follow.

I will now proceed to throw myself into the planning phase for Arc 7!
 
Lithos Maitreya said:
Of these chapters, 6.4, 6.5, and 6.6 have all been betaread to a high standard. I am confident that 6b, the Journal, and 6.7 will soon follow.

I will now proceed to throw myself into the planning phase for Arc 7!
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Impressive. It's pretty remarkable that you're able to consistently put out high quality material on what looks like a relatively tight schedule.

That said, I'm wondering if you have this story plotted out all the way to the conclusion? Or are you one of those writers who just have an ending in mind with some key scenes, but otherwise produce everything organically?
 
Tempist said:
That said, I'm wondering if you have this story plotted out all the way to the conclusion? Or are you one of those writers who just have an ending in mind with some key scenes, but otherwise produce everything organically?
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Somewhere in between, but more the latter than the former. Several major character arcs are already planned, although some of the details are missing, and I already know much of the conflict of the next few arcs. It gets a little muddied after arcs 8/9. Then it clarifies again later in the story. But yes, I have a lot planned out, which will be organically filled in as time goes on.
 
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Douse 6.4
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    • Many thanks to @themanwhowas, @Assembler, @frustratedFreeboota, @Skyrunner, and ShadowStepper1300 on QuestionableQuesting for betareading.
    Many thanks to @MugaSofer for fact checking.

    -x-x-x-​

    I stared at Armsmaster blankly.

    After a moment, he frowned. "Annatar?"

    "You're joking, right?" Even as I said it, I felt the sinking feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Armsmaster didn't joke, and I knew it perfectly well.

    "Not at all," he said, surprised. "I realize they're addictive, but I'm willing to deal with a little withdrawal if it means saving the city."

    "A little withdrawal?" I spluttered.

    We were interrupted by the armbands.

    Losses are as follows: Cache, Menja, Vantage, Snaptrap, Stardust, Impel. Injuries are as follows: Vista, Purity, Pelter, Browbeat, Krieg, Chevalier, Geomancer, Kid Win, Laserdream, Victor, Prefab, Shelter, Gully, Tecton, Trickster.

    Armsmaster listened, his jaw working grimly as the droning continued. Once it subsided, he looked back at me. "Look, as long as it won't kill me until after the fight—"

    "Oh, a Ring of Power wouldn't kill you," I said. My voice was low, now, and cold. "No, you'd survive. More's the pity. There are fates far worse than death."

    "Now isn't the time for dramatics—"

    "Dramatics?" I asked flatly. "That's what you think this is? That's what you think I am? Playacting at significance, pretending to be something I'm not? Trying to lend importance to things that have none?"

    "I realize—"

    "No. You don't."

    "Listen to what I have to say!" he growled through gritted teeth.

    "You 'realize' that my powers feel like the most important thing in my life. You 'realize' there's an instinct to make sure everyone respects how powerful and dangerous those powers are. You 'realize' it's not a matter of arrogance, but of safety. And you want to make sure that I 'realize' everyone else feels that way about their powers, too, and that I should try to respect that, and them. That you're a much more experienced tinker, and that I should trust your judgement on what tinkertech is and isn't safe for you to use."

    His mouth was just slightly open. For a moment he struggled with himself, and then he spoke. "Well—yes. I know your tinkertech is a double-edged sword, Annatar. I know it's a great risk to use it like this, without precautions. But the alternative is losing the city. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. After all, I'm the only one who'll be hurt by it."

    I shook my head. "But you're not. Not even close."

    He sighed. "Yes, the loss of my presence will be a blow to the Protectorate—"

    "Your team will miss you," I said. "Dragon will miss you. But more to the point, you won't die. And the damage you could do, having failed to die, is far more than you can imagine."

    His lips twisted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

    I made no response, because it would have been drowned out. A great, bellowing roar was emerging from the east, where I saw Leviathan's piercing light darting hither and thither. Over the tops of the damaged buildings, jets of flame were leaping into the sky like fireworks peeking over the top of a hill.

    Lung has engaged Leviathan, said the armband. Caution is advised in the surrounding area.

    I started running, pushing my way through the thigh-high water towards the fight.

    Armsmaster followed. "I wouldn't ask if the stakes weren't—"

    "You think you're fit to use the Ring of Fire?" I snapped, and the named Ring flared hot upon my finger. "You want it—not the Ring so much as what the Ring can offer you. The secret fire of justice, of creativity, of inspiration and the ability to inspire. It's everything you want to be. You really think you'd be able to give it up after the fight?"

    "Yes!" Armsmaster said angrily. "I'm not a thief, Annatar!"

    "Then don't ask me to make one of you."

    We turned a corner, and immediately had to dodge a lance of flame.

    Lung had grown until he was only slightly smaller than Leviathan, twenty-five feet or so tall. His arms had become claws tipped with foot-long blades, and a second pair were slowly emerging from his torso. From his back sprouted two batlike wings, with membranes the color of blood and metallic plating over the bony portion where they extended from his back. Below these, too, another pair of wings were visible as sharp nubs emerging from under the glinting scales. His mask had long since been lost, and his face was wide and flat, like a cat's—but instead of a distinct nose and mouth, he had an X-shaped opening at the fore of his muzzle, with four separate jaws lined with knifelike teeth and parted in a roar of defiant fury.

    It was interesting to be on the same side as him, only a few short weeks after killing his subordinate.

    He and Leviathan were locked together, furiously clawing at one another like rabid dogs. The dragon had one of the Endbringer's forearms locked in a vicelike grip while his other tore into its back, and the emerging third and fourth arms clawed at its belly. His segmented maw was biting ravenously at its mouthless face, breaking through the tough hide and sending ichor spouting like red oil.

    But he was bleeding, too. Leviathan matched him blow for blow, rending him with its claws and battering him with its tail and its water echo.

    Even from here, a couple hundred yards away, I could feel the heat as Lung scorched his foe with dragon-fire. Despite the cold rain and flooded street, I found myself growing uncomfortably warm under my armor. The buildings on either side of the battle were already aflame.

    Aeglos was missing. I had dropped it when Leviathan had cast me into the sea. Had that really been only a few minutes ago? Half an hour, an hour at most? It felt like a lifetime.

    "Annatar—" Armsmaster began.

    "Shut up," I said, "and fight, damn you."

    I sheathed Narsil, unslung Belthronding, and nocked an arrow. I took aim for Leviathan's lone right eye, and fired.

    At this range, and against a target moving that erratically, I was nowhere near the archer I'd need to be to hit a target that small. My arrow struck Leviathan in the neck as it surged upward and pushed down upon the dragon.

    Armsmaster had left my side and was running towards the fighting, one halberd held out before him. Darts like spear-points were launching from its tip, and most were striking the Endbringer. His other hand was reaching behind his back to pull out a second, unpainted halberd.

    I fired another arrow, and got it in the shoulder. A third hit its chest. Then I nocked three arrows at once and launched them into the fray, aiming for the Enbringer's center, for that glowing thing at its core.

    One struck the thing in the belly, another in the collarbone, but the third hit Lung, glancing off the scales of his side. He didn't seem to notice.

    At that moment, Leviathan twisted. Its arm writhed in Lung's grip and broke his hold. It spun, thrusting its back into the dragon's face. The second impact of the water echo knocked him back, making him rear up and flail like a bucking horse.

    Then it jumped, coming towards me, clearing Armsmaster's head by several feet. The leader of the Protectorate ENE quickly leapt, swinging that second halberd into the Endbringer's belly. The flesh exploded into dust.

    Leviathan was eerily silent as it curled inward in midair, approximating the fetal position, and splashed down into the water between me and Armsmaster. I put my bow away and drew Narsil, but for a moment I waited.

    What's going on? I wondered. Did Armsmaster injure it?

    For almost a full two seconds, the battlefield was nearly still before Leviathan surged upward and leaped into the wall to my right. It crumbled around it in an explosion of dust and masonry, and the Endbringer was obscured from view. Even as it did all of this, however, its water echo was moving. What had been a mere twitch in Armsmaster's direction for the Endbringer itself was a crushing blow on the part of its watery shadow. The blue-armored cape was thrown backward, sailing some thirty feet and landing in a heap. Blood was already seeping out from under his armor by the time he hit the ground, drowning the blue paint in red.

    Armsmaster down, DD-2.

    One of Dragon's suits was dropping towards him, so I put him out of my mind for the moment. If anyone could keep him alive, now that Panacea was out of action, it would be Dragon.

    I charged instead into the cloud of dust. The Endbringer's star was receding, traveling down towards the sea. I followed at a run, and Narya flared like a halo of fire around me.

    Spire down, DC-4. Frenetic deceased, DC-4. Furrow deceased, DC-4. Hew down, DC-4.

    Capes joined me as I went, falling into step with me one by one. The Endbringer had stopped now, and was moving erratically again in combat.

    Shielder down, DC-4. Quark deceased, DC-4. Night deceased, DC-4. Kaiser down, DC-4.

    Suddenly, a cape appeared in front of me. It was Strider, in blue and black. "Need a lift?" he asked, giving me a slight grin.

    "In a moment," I said, and turned to the capes behind me.

    I recognized a few. There was Weld again, his metal body slightly dented in a couple places. There were Assault and Battery—the former looked mostly uninjured, but the latter was bruised and bleeding. There was Rune, three clumps of stonework orbiting her, her robes torn and tattered. And there was Grue, a long tear running down the side of his jacket. The black leather glistened with blood.

    "It's almost over!" I shouted. "Leviathan's taken a hell of a beating! Just a bit more, and we'll have our city back! So be careful, and we can do this without losing anyone else! The Endbringers win, some days, but today is not one of them!"

    I nodded to Strider as the capes cheered. Narya grew warm on my finger, fanning their hope and determination, and feeding on it in turn. "Whenever you're ready."

    He nodded, and a moment later I was swallowed up again by the thunderclap of his teleport.

    When I recovered my bearings, I found myself a touch awestruck. Eidolon, Alexandria, and Legend were there, assembled in midair. Their backs were to the sea, and their faces were to the Endbringer.

    All four were perfectly still, watching each other. Eidolon's robes and Alexandria's cape flapped slightly in the seabreeze.

    "It's over, monster," said Eidolon. I was struck by how ordinary his voice was. There was none of Alexandria's cloaked menace or Legend's raw charisma. Eidolon's voice was a little weak, slightly too high, a touch nasal. It echoed oddly, as though spoken from the center of an empty ballroom, but that just highlighted its flaws—minute as they were individually, they became glaring and even obnoxious in a person of Eidolon's stature and position. "You're finished."

    Leviathan was still bleeding. Thick fluid poured from the gash in its belly, which was visibly knitting itself together. Even now, however, it made no noise, nor moved to react to its injuries. It simply stood watching.

    It's delaying, I realized. It's holding out for another tidal wave.

    We were running out of time, and no one wanted to be the first in to attack. Even the Triumvirate were afraid. They needed someone to take the plunge.

    We can finish this without losing anyone else, I'd said. I wished I could believe it.

    "Bah," I muttered. A couple capes glanced at me, their rapture broken by the sudden sound. "Who wants to live forever, anyway?"

    I hefted Narsil, took a deep breath, and charged, screaming at the top of my lungs.

    Something like fifty gazes snapped to me—among them, Leviathan's. It lunged, and I swung Narsil to catch it, dodging out of the way as I did so.

    It caught me with the tip of its water echo, sending me staggering, but I kept my footing. In exchange, I raked Narsil down its forearm. Blood poured forth like thick syrup.

    Then at last the other capes joined me, shouting in unison, surging with hope and determination. Eidolon was launching forth strange attacks—gravity seemed to turn against Leviathan, and lend weight to the blows of those capes fighting it in melee. Legend was blasting at it with beams of blue-white light, quick and unerring. Alexandria was in the air, hammering away at its head with fists like speeding trains. And there were others, some thirty or forty of us, in the air or about its feet, ants trying to bring down an elephant.

    And, I reflected as I thrust Narsil deep into one foot, we're succeeding.

    We really were. After only a few seconds of this, Leviathan burst out from us, flicked one last blow at Legend with its water echo, and dove unceremoniously into the sea. Eidolon and Alexandria floated out after him, Legend catching up as soon as he recovered, while the rest of us picked ourselves back up.

    The Triumvirate soon returned, however. "He's gone!" said Legend, loud and clear. "He's already heading out of the bay! Leviathan is gone!"

    Even as he spoke, the storm was abating. In the east, the blackness of the storm clouds was beginning to come apart. A faint glimmer of sunlight peered in through cracks in the thunderhead.

    A ragged cheer began to rise, but I didn't join in. I just watched as the eastern sky cleared, far faster than any natural weather. The morning sun danced on my armor, setting the street around me aglow.

    Well, I thought. That's all right, then. I looked down at the reflected dawn in Narsil's blade, and I found that I was smiling.

    -x-x-x-​

    Please consider donating to my Patreon. Many thanks to those who have already donated.
     
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    • Very nice! Love that Annatar isn't able to explain the true price of taking one of the Three temporarily.
     
    This is going to be a major rift with Armsmaster if she can't figure out how to explain it. And she can't demonstrate it without torturing some poor soul. At the BEST.

    Maybe one of the Wards would volunteer to demonstrate it, but I'm not sure Annatar could stand watching them suffer while it happened.
     
    I loved this chapter. Annatar leading the charge at the end was badass (and now she's going to be known as "That Ward who went 'eh, fuck it' and charged Leviathan by herself"), but what I really liked was the conflict between Annatar and Armsmaster. It highlights that he thinks of the ring as addictive tinkertech, rather than strapping yourself into destiny like a rocket ready for launch. It's the ring of "justice, creativity, inspiration and the ability to inspire." It's exactly what he needs, but he's not worthy of it now, and that sets him up with a direction for future growth. I'm a sucker for characters that aren't just dynamic, but dynamic in a positive way, so showing that Armsmaster isn't worthy to bear Narya as he is while showing how badly he needs it establishes a narrative impetus to grow him into the sort of person who is worthy. We even get a glance at the things he needs to understand: not just that a Ring is a massive responsibility, but that his loss would be more than a blow to the Protectorate. He would be missed by Dragon and his teammates. I think we'll see Armsmaster developing more positive relationships with his teammates, as well as Dragon, who is the best wAIfu and deserves all the nice things.
     
    What he's not grasping is that the Rings aren't addictive. They're the Spice Melange. They don't just augment you; they become part of you. They are shaped by a portion of your being, your soul, which fulfills them to make them best able to empower their ideal wielder. Remove the Ring, and you take off significant parts of who and what you are. There is no healing from that. It gets worse with time as you keep trying to use parts of you that aren't there anymore. Only wearing it again can help, and if you're NOT worthy of it, what you gave is subsumed by it and filled in with a twisted reflection of the Ring's nature. You become a pathetic, unnecessary extension of the Ring, a tool fit for little more than helping it find its true wielder.
     
    Really loved the chapter. I hope Annatar can explain to Armsy why thinking the ring is just a powerup is wrong. Maybe with Dragon's help.
    Lithos Maitreya said:
    "Bah," I muttered. A couple capes glanced at me, their rapture broken by the sudden sound. "Who wants to live forever, anyway?"
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    Ha ha lol... From now on she will be known as the cape who charged Leviathan when even the Triumvirate were scared. IIRC it was Gimili who said this in the movies, right?
     
    BornAgain said:
    Really loved the chapter. I hope Annatar can explain to Armsy why thinking the ring is just a powerup is wrong. Maybe with Dragon's help.

    Ha ha lol... From now on she will be known as the cape who charged Leviathan when even the Triumvirate were scared. IIRC it was Gimili who said this in the movies, right?
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    Nobody. It's not a line from the movies, or from Lord of the Rings at all. If anyone had, though, it would be Gimli.
     
    Lithos Maitreya said:
    Nobody. It's not a line from the movies, or from Lord of the Rings at all. If anyone had, though, it would be Gimli.
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    Yeah... I just went through the Gimli's scenes. I mixed this one with his other one in debate before the final battle.
    "Certainty of death, small chance of success... What are we waiting for?"
    Similar idea behind both the statements.
    Still loved how you made me remember such references to LOTR with your story.
     
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