Looks like the first draft of Abandonment Party 3 is done! You know what that means! Time to talk about Warcraft! That’s “Warcraft” the 2016 film–and like my books it also takes years of delays to see the light of day. So let’s discuss it! Or just watch me discuss it with myself!
I liked it, but there is something I see as a flaw in the story. But first, the good and the bad!
Good things about Warcraft:
- People use magic! Specific, visible magic that has a clear effect! None of the vague crap that SOME fantasy stories like to use. The differing magics even have rules: such as needing to be spoken, drawing runes, or, in the case of fel magic, requiring someone’s SOUL to power it.
- Nice battles. There’s a good mix of group battles and personal fights. The group battles really conveyed the raw power of the orcs–they swing massive weapons and even fling entire horses around. Even though the orcs are CGI everything really had that feeling of weight and force behind it. And the personal battles, well, let’s just say that when Gul’dan sheds his robe everyone is impressed.
- The references to the games don’t go overboard. When I went to the movie I expected the characters to be playing the Hearthstone card game along with a crowd of peons shouting “Stop poking me!” But every pointless reference I saw was quick–like a murloc gurgling during an establishing shot. The bits of music from the games were nice too. Quite tasteful overall.
Now for the bad things:
- Some corny lines. “Wherever there is light there is darkness! Wherever there is darkness there is light!” Come on.
- Crucial lore from the instruction manual of Warcraft: Orcs and Humans is overlooked. For instance Blackrock Mountain is supposed to be to the north of Deadwind Pass, not south! Ha! No, I don’t really care about that. And neither does Blizzard.
- The human characters are boring. Look, I never liked most of the humans in the games and these versions of the characters were no different. Lothar’s son dies and I found myself not even caring. I didn’t even know he had a son. He was just so bland I didn’t notice. But the orcs! The orcs more than made up for it. When little Thrall was floating away from his dying mom I was practically crying. When Orgrim betrayed his friend Durotan I was in shock. It makes me excited for the sequels to see Tauren, Ogres, and Undead. Night Elves can stay at home, though.
And now comes my biggest problem: The true villains of the story aren’t explained! Where does the fel magic come from? Who is manipulating the orcs and the humans? This question isn’t really a problem if you’ve been playing the games; you know what’s up. (It’s the Burning Legion! NEW EXPANSION COMING THIS FALL!)
But what about someone who came into this film with no knowledge of the game lore? They might get confused when Medivh transforms into a demon with no explanation! Shoot, I don’t even know why that happened!
And that, my friends, is why we need ominous epilogues. First of all, I found myself in a similar situation when I watched the Avengers film. I didn’t know who those aliens were at the end; I’m no Marvel encyclopedia. I do own one, though. But after the credits Thanos showed up and it eased my heart to know that SOMEbody was behind that whole mess.
And that was what Warcraft needed! An epilogue! I waited in the theater and there was nothing but some pathetic logo after the credits! Why!? Just show me the demons behind the scenes–Sargeras or Jaraxxus or whoever. Have them talking to Gul’dan through a portal; maybe throw in something about why Medivh was corrupted.
I could be wrong though. For now is your chance to tell ME what to do. Below is the final chapter of Abandonment Party 3. Do I end up explaining enough? Or is all the exposition festering into a bloated mess? BEGIN!
29 – Abandoner
“Mackaba!” Mean cried out as she flew. She coughed from the vile stench that lingered over the sealed gash in the glass, gagging and zipping past it. Her boots touched down next to Mackaba. He was spread prone on the glass and he still had Beebee’s tuning fork in his fingers. It was split in two.
“Mackaba?” she said again. Her eyes searched his body, seeing no movement. “I’m here,” she told him. No response came. “What are you doing!?” she demanded. “I’m going to get away unless you get up!”
Beebee was sloshing over to them in her wet boots. Her eyes were reddened.
“He took it,” she said. “My tuner.” The fork dropped out of Mackaba’s hand as Mean pressed her ear to his chest. She sat upright after a moment of hearing nothing there.
“Your brother at the casino survived when his broke,” Mean said. “What happened? Why did it kill him!?”
Beebee shook her head, sobbing. “I’m sorry.”
Mean slammed her armored hand on the glass. She drew in a long breath and let out a sigh. With tears running down her cheeks she took his hand and placed it on his chest. She pushed his eyelids shut. From the south, Dark and the two enpo were approaching. Mean sniffled.
“Let’s take him home I guess.”
With the noise of vehicles and far-off voices echoing on the plain, the group made their way toward the remains of Shirka’s small house.
“It’s not too much farther,” Chinpo told them. He led the way, sniffing the ground as he trotted along. Slaberdashia held Mackaba’s body cradled in one arm. Calm was in the other.
“What are we going to do with the little Calm?” Pladomir asked. “If she wakes up?”
“She should be fine,” Elder Sain told him. He was leading Shirka along, her arms bound with mooring line from the life raft. “The only memories she should have are the ones she got living up here.”
“What about her? What about us!?” Clance sputtered. “The avatars are gone! How will we survive?” He stomped ahead and rounded on Shirka. “You killed Cougo; this is all your fault. You’re going to be executed and I’m going to love every second.”
“I haven’t decided what to do with her yet,” Sain said. Clance stared down at,m Elder Sain as he lead Shirka around him.
“You what?” Clance whined. “You have to! That’s the law!”
“Wait until later, Clance,” Slaberdashia growled. “I don’t feel like carrying any more dead people right now.”
“So. Darrow,” Trisk said. All of her clothes were missing again. “How are you holding up?”
“I think I’m going to have nightmares tonight,” Darrow said.
“Oh, just tonight?” Vornis sighed. “I’m going to need therapy. I didn’t think I’d see so many things that were scarier than me in one day.” Dark chuckled, walking past him. He had removed the poncho. He handed it over to Trisk.
“Thank you,” Trisk said, pulling it over her head. She pulled her long hair through the collar and let it hang over her back. “I had to teleport again. This guy”—she nodded over at Sain—“he wasn’t going to make it out of the way of the crack he opened.”
Sain looked down at the glass as they walked. “Yes. I owe you for that. I’m sorry you lost your clothes and your ring.”
Trisk shrugged. “It was all King’s anyway.” Sain groaned.
“He’ll be waiting for me on your world, won’t he? I’ll accept any punishment he offers.”
“What, for losing his ring?” Darrow asked. Trisk let out a titter.
“Wait until you see what he did to the pyramid,” she told him.
Chinpo trotted ahead through the dust: pieces of the factory and Shirka’s house were scattered in a mess of wood, concrete, and steel. He gave out a yelp. Someone was making their way through the haze toward them.
His hands were in a state of constant agitation; moving small objects between them. A cloth band was tied at his forehead. Black hair hung over the top. As he drew closer Mean could see something trailing from beneath the fabric. It appeared as solidified wax: running between his thin eyebrows and settling at the bridge of his nose, as if it had rolled down the side of a burning candle.
“Mean, how good to see you!” he called to her.
Mean stopped along with the group. “Yes? Hello?” She looked to Dark, then back at the man. The objects in his hands appeared to be playing cards. “Did you come from our world?” she asked.
The man removed one card from the deck. “I’m not allowed to go there,” he said. The card he removed vanished into his palm. “And none of you are going back there, either.”
Malise trotted past Chinpo. “Let’s get going; I don’t have time for this.” The man watched her walk around him. He lifted a card from the deck, holding it out to her as she passed. She glanced over and froze: it was visible to her and no one else. Her short fur bristled and her tail quivered.
“Malise, what is it?” Chinpo asked. He scrambled forward; the man snapped the card with his other hand. Chinpo saw nothing but a plain card back.
“Get back with the others or I’ll show it to them,” the man expressed. He slapped the deck back together with the single card.
“What was on that?” Chinpo demanded. Malise nudged him.
“It’s fine. I’m going,” she said. She walked back to the group, with her head low.
“Fantastic!” the man said. “Now I just need the rest of you to keep on moving. Beebee’s world isn’t far.”
“I don’t want to go there; I want to go home,” Mean said.
“Abandoner,” the man said. “That’s who I am. And that what you are.” He pointed from Mean over to Dark. “And that’s what you’re about to become.” He grinned, and Clance flinched backwards.
“Elder, his forehead!” he said. The Abandoner touched the cloth headband.
“You’re Zonzabee’s brother,” Elder Sain stated. “You’re one of the first to be created.”
“One of?” the Abandoner laughed. “I was the first.” He fanned the cards out; parts of different people could be glimpsed on them before he conjoined them again in the stack.
“Dark, I think I saw you on one of those cards,” Mean whispered.
The Abandoner spoke up. “Yes, I know all of you,” he said. “I know what you’ve been through today and I know that the last thing that any of you want to do is to struggle against another overwhelming foe.” He pointed his finger as Trisk opened her mouth. “Except for you.”
“Yeah, because I can take you,” she said. “Clance, juice me up like before.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Clance replied. “Abandoner, you’ll keep your promise?” His voice cracked, and he cleared this throat. “You don’t want to take us back to the chandelier? You’ll let us go?”
“As long as you leave right now,” the Abandoner said. “I’ll even forgive you for killing my dear sister Zonz.”
“Fine, we’ll go to Beebee’s place,” Mean said. “Is that fine with everyone?”
Beebee nodded and Trisk grumbled. The other siblings were already heading in the castle’s direction, casting quick looks behind them.
“We’re going too,” Chinpo said in a hushed tone. “Keep an eye on them.”
As Mean, Dark, Trisk, Darrow, and Vornis turned to follow, the Abandoner spoke one more time.
“And not a word from you, Dark?“ he asked. He hooked his fingers as symbolic quotation marks as he said his name. “Just going to walk away and pretend that you don’t know what’s about to happen?”
Dark kept staring ahead as they walked. He put his arm around Mean’s shoulder.
“There’s something I need to explain to you,” he told her. “When we’re alone.”
The Abandoner laughed after them.
“I’ll believe it when I hear it!” he said. Mean wrapped her arm around Dark’s torso, being careful to avoid the spot where Cocoa was stuck to the armor.
“You don’t have to explain anything just because he goaded you,” she told him.
“It’s not him,” Dark said. “Mackaba. He’s the one that convinced me. When we were up on that tower.” Mean let out a hum. She gave his breastplate a playful knock.
“And we are armor buddies now,” she added.
As they conversed Trisk grumbled to Darrow. “Ridiculous,” she muttered. “We could have all jumped him and gone home. Why should we believe what he says?”
Darrow looked ahead. The wreck of the Nameless was still between Beebee’s castle and the stretch of plain leading to the casino grounds. The zeppelin that had been hit by the factory was also settled there now, its balloon partially deflated.
“With everything we’ve seen why shouldn’t we?” Vornis sighed.
The moon was still out on Beebee’s world, its light brightening the castle courtyard and the many topiaries.
“That must be one giant moon out there,” Dark said. He was seated on a bench along with Mean. He was looking up past the bear topiary, at the sky through the hole in the cavern.
“It’s gorgeous,” Mean said. “And it’s so good to have a solid floor under me.” She tapped her small foot on the stones of the garden. “This reminds me of that night we spent at Stone Rory: after we picked up the mess Dhaston made.”
“It does,” Dark admitted. He and Mean were both out of their armor, wearing clean clothes. ‘Beebee’ was written on their shirts. “Back then I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you my real name.” He took a long breath and let it out. “I’m Tecker. Tecker Ponce. I’ve traveled backwards in time.”
Mean opened her mouth and pretended to be amazed. Dark laughed.
“You guessed that already,” he said. Mean rubbed his arm.
“Well it was either that or a clone,” she offered. “Or a twin. Too bad; I could have had two of you.”
Dark touched her hand and held it. “Well the past me is still out there. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
The siblings were gathered in the basement of the castle, at the foot of a twisted stairway lit with bright candles. They sat at a table eating bread and cinnamon rolls that were stacked on plates. All but Shirka. She stood in a large cell filled with stones and a pool of water. Her hands were still bound.
“I never dreamed you had a functional dungeon down here, Beebee,” Pladomir said.
Beebee frowned, chewing on a roll. “It wasn’t supposed to be,” she replied. “I just wanted a real pet bear someday.”
Slaberdashia was licking bread crumbs off her hairy fingers. Her helmet was set on the table. Her large eyes caught the firelight. “I could have helped you with that,” she said. “Still can, if Shirka wants company.”
Shirka looked out through the bars of the cell, with one eye ringed in rust and green residue.
“You took my name from them,” she said. Clance sneered at her. Slaberdashia dug into another loaf.
“But that’s all you took,” Shirka went on. “Everything else I did they remember. Exposing you. Driving you out. Ending their years of subjugation.” She leaned on the bars, letting her bound arms dangle. “Who’s going to be their savior now?”
“That’s absurd, Shirka,” Clance said. “Nobody will; they forgot you.”
Shirka backed away, touching her face. She traced her fingers around the circular indentation at her left eye.
Upstairs, Dark went on. “My past self was riding with Mr. Dhaston,” he said. “We were on our way to the pyramid when it was attacked.”
Mean kept hold of his hand. “I didn’t see you with him, though.”
“They forced me to stay behind,” Dark told her. “We had already survived an attack by Slaberdashia and her enpo; when Tyle went through to Arsiling he dropped me off, saying it would be safer.”
“Where?” Mean asked. “Didn’t Trisk say the pyramid was destroyed?”
“Just dropped me off in the field,” Dark confirmed. “They came back over an hour later, but they just drove past me. I don’t know if they forgot about me or what.”
“That’s terrible!” Mean said.
“Well I wasn’t very happy about it,” Dark said. “I had wanted to go with them. But instead I was left to think. About the evacuation of Hardpan city. About the attacks on Ley Ledge. And now something was happening again: something that I was powerless to stop.”
“You can’t do everything,” Mean said. “Wait. Wasn’t that you? When I was up in that cage with Parlay?”
Dark smiled. “Yes. That was my second time seeing you. I didn’t expect to find anyone after flying Hatchel from one planet to another.”
“That’s right!” Mean exclaimed. “You brought Dad to save me! That was you!” She embraced him with a squeal.
“Mean I’m trying to tell my tragic back-story here,” he laughed.
Mean let her head rest on his shoulder. “It sounds like you were only remembering the bad things. What you couldn’t do.” Dark rubbed her on the back.
“You’re right,” he said. “I wish you had been there for me back then.”
The Abandoner stood in the shadow of a fallen smokestack, thumbing his cards from one palm to the next. Voices could be heard in the distance.
“Tecker is here,” he traced on one of the card’s backs with his finger. The glass under his feet was dull; a thick film had congregated beneath it, blocking the gaseous clouds from view. Just below the surface a reply was formed, spelled out in bright letting within the glass.
The Abandoner smiled. He traced his finger over the back of the cards again, his fingertip zipping along in flowing cursive:
“While you’re over there could you disconnect Zonzabee’s kids? Sain and the others will be too much trouble if they decide to turn against us.”
He awaited a reply. A small stain was bleeding through the center of his white headband. He wiped at it.
The Abandoner dropped his hand to the cards. “Thanks,” he wrote. Then he spoke aloud. “Now, Tecker. Let’s get acquainted.”
Dark dropped his voice. The moonlight dimmed behind an unseen cloud.
“I went through to Arsiling,” he began. “There was rubble everywhere, just as we left it. The only thing different was the floor—it was caked with some sort of grime on the underside.”
“I wonder why,” Mean said. “What did you do?”
“I took off my suit jacket,” he told her. “To mark the spot where I had come through. Then I just kind of wandered around, staring at everything with a stupid grin on my face. I thought it was so bizarre: I noticed the sun in the sky was unlike anything I knew; the other stars were in totally different formations than the ones back home too.”
“I always meant to learn the constellations,” Mean said.
“Well I didn’t have too much time to gawk,” Dark went on. “I started toward the crashed ship. A hatch in the side was open, and people had come out. I thought they were the ones that attacked us, but they were injured so I wasn’t too scared.”
“What, were these some of the slaves the siblings kept?” Mean asked. “Those jerks just left them there!? They’re downstairs having a party!”
“Well they’re safe now,” Dark said. “One was killed in the crash, but the others made it. They explained that they were from a world controlled by Cougo. Their memories had been altered to believe that they were the crew of that ship.” He held up his finger. “And all of them claimed to have met me before.”
“Had they?” Mean asked. She slapped him on the thigh. “They had! The you that’s you now!”
“Afraid so,” Dark admitted. “When we stowed away on the ship Darrow, Jelk, Tenny, and I all met them. But our memories were removed. And when my confused past self said he had never met them before that’s the explanation he was given: ‘Well Cougo must have taken your memories again!’”
“Did you believe that?” Mean asked.
“Of course not,” Dark said. “I thought they were trying to trick me. But then we met up with more people from the other worlds. And some of them swore they had seen my take down all of the siblings and a giant monster. Me and my amazing friends. One of them was that Blann guy.”
“The chubby space suit?” Mean said.
“Yeah,” Dark affirmed. “I remember him showing up in that life raft and begging for my help.”
Mean scratched the back of her head. “Wow. I guess he did see everything though. You must have been so freaked out.”
“I really didn’t understand it,” Dark said. “But I saw all those people around me. All of them scared and hurt and afraid. I remembered what it was like back when I was a Lord Ley. How I wanted to help people. So I did what us politicians do: I began to play along.”
The life raft puttered along with a lone Blann at the wheel. He approached a small group of people, gathered between the wreck of the Nameless and the deflated zeppelin. Ten of them were clothed in hazmat suits that were camouflaged with blurred, smokey designs. Four were the crew of the Nameless, their uniforms torn away in spots and bandaged wounds underneath. They were seated near Tecker. Blann circled the craft toward those in the group that were breathing the Arsiling atmosphere. Several of the suited individuals rose weapons at Blann. Blann hovered the ship behind Tecker.
“Hey! Okay! Now hold on!” Blann said. He looked out over one of the ballooned sides of the boat at Tecker. “I’m just bringing the boat back for you guys! Tell them we know each other!”
One of the suited men had a tinted visor that obscured the top half of his face. His lower jaw displayed a radiant mustache.
“Exit the vehicle!” he barked. “You are suspected of breaking Principality law!”
Blann ducked down, then peeked up again. “Don’t shoot! Your weapons will just malfunction again!”
“So it was you that ran from our ships,” the mustached man said. Blann winced. Tecker stepped in front of the boat.
“Wait,” he said. “We’re not in your Principality now. We’re not even on your planet. Are you sure you have jurisdiction here?”
“Not really,” the mustached man admitted. The bristles of his whiskers were a radiant orange. “But that vehicle is registered with the Principality. I’m seizing it to transport the wounded.”
Blann’s skin tone beneath the helmet brightened. “Fine! That’s what I came over here for anyway!” He coughed. “And to borrow some air so I don’t suffocate.”
The mustached man nodded and the rest of his group worked with Tecker to carry the wounded onto the life raft. Several of the camouflaged soldiers remained on the boat: one to watch Blann and the other complaining of unseen injuries. Blann remained at the driver’s wheel. As the last of the Nameless’ crew was loaded, the boat puttered away from the zeppelin toward Shirka’s house.
“Say, what happened to your clothes?” Blann asked. Tecker tugged at his button-down shirt.
“I had to take it off to mark the way back,” he explained.
“So that’s what happened to my poncho,” the captain, reclined on the floor, said.
Tecker looked over. Somewhere, a card flipped into place.
“Yes! Of course,” Tecker remarked. Blann spoke again.
“Well I’m glad you found the way back. After you jumped down to fight the monster I dropped everyone else off on the ground. I went back to where Pladomir’s factory was but I couldn’t find anything. I think the rubble is covering up the portal or whatever it is that got me here.”
Tecker’s brown eyebrows crinkled. “Monster,” he stated. An image dropped into his brain: He was looking out from behind the front tire of Dhaston’s bus. Vornis was being pummeled by Slaberdashia. The enpo howled from the forest.
“Oh, right!” Tecker said. “I didn’t really do much, though. Vornis handled most of it.”
“Oh, the guy that looks like a buff old man?” Blann asked. “With spikes poking up out of his neck?” The life raft slowed as it reached the dusty patch around Shirka’s house.
“That’s him!” Tecker said, dabbing his finger forward. “I wasn’t sure any of us would survive that!” He stood, the wind whipping his hair as they went. “A little to the right, Blann,” he instructed. “I dragged my shoes through the dust to make a trail that lead back to my clothes.”
“Gotcha. I see the way now,” Blann said. “I’ll just drive over that way and see if we make it.”
The wounded from Cougo’s world stirred. “I think we’ll be alright,” the former captain said. He propped himself up on his arms, looking at the others. “How are you all doing?”
The former Port Hawk smiled. “Better. I feel much better now for some reason.”
“Yeah,” the former Bow Hawk affirmed after clearing her throat. “I mean, my arm is probably broken but—I don’t know—I just feel really good.”
“Yeah!” Blann said. “It might be the asphyxiation talking, but I think we’re through the worst of it!”
As the life raft swished over the dust, the Abandoner watched from his spot behind the fallen smokestack.
“So you were acting diplomatic,” Mean said to Dark. “That’s what you do. You helped those people through a tough spot.”
“That’s what I told myself, Mean,” Dark replied. “And they were grateful in return. I spent the next days meeting people stranded from the other worlds; setting up shelters and transports with the help of the Jesian military and even Tyle Dhaston.”
“Do you get everyone back to their home worlds?” Mean asked.
“I do,” Dark said. “We clear away the ruined buildings and we get the doors open again. Everyone goes back and tells their world about me. How I saved them from Clance or Cougo or whoever. So of course, this makes those people curious. They start coming to Arsiling to see for themselves.”
Mean held up her hand. “Whoa. Every world tries to go there? Won’t that just turn into a big mess?”
“A mess?” Dark repeated. “This was my dream! I had just discovered other populated planets. And now—now!—people from those worlds were coming to find me!”
Mean’s face flushed red. “I guess I know what that’s like,” she said. “You were in the spotlight before—when you first became Lord Ley. And I was one of those people that was looking for you.” She sat sideways on the bench, sitting on her knees. “But you were always able to handle it. What’s different this time?”
Dark met Mean’s eyes. “Because it starts as a lie. But soon there will be a truth to drive them. And that fact will cause people to either adore me, or want to kill me.”
Deep below the surface of Arsiling, an isolated room was shrieking with a siren’s shrill alarm. A light flickered against a dim door, flashing in time to the noise. A stain was smeared across the floor from the threshold and it lead to a body propped against a rounded container. The humanoid figure was preserved, overlaid in a film of dust along the tops of her features. Hairpins were scattered about: some resting on her lap and others on the floor. One remained on her head, holding a spire of hair in place among a mess of dirty curls. Both arms were severed at the biceps.
The light flashed against her metallic breastplate; it shone from a monitor set in between shadowed machinery. Alerts were displayed on the screen—data losses, structure failures, Calm’s nonexistent life signs. One warning overlapped the others, blaring into the blank space of the room: “ANOMALY 2 HAS REAPPEARED.”
Super-quick first draft notes –
Mackaba dies –
What a bummer right?
The Abandoner appears –
I know it’s late in the story but let me introduce ONE more guy. I was also going to show the person he was communicated with, but that really might be too much.
The siblings eat tacos while Shirka is put into a bear cage –
Wow it’s a good thing I set up Beebee’s bear fascination; there’s no way she’d have a cell in her house otherwise.
Mean and Dark finally do it –
They finally discuss his time-travelling secret! I know, I know–how has their relationship survived all this time without it?
There is MUCH more to his story, though. I thought about putting more of it in this book but it already seems to be going on way too long. Do you think the amount of explanation here is enough? It should be just the taste you need to anticipate more. As if three novels’ worth of teasing isn’t enough.
Oh shoot! I forgot to put in something that Mean was going to say. It was about Mackaba. Dang! I forgot his funeral scene too! You’re probably wondering what they did with his body. They didn’t just dump him somewhere if that’s what you’re thinking. Cougo’s body IS still out there though. OH DOUBLE DANG! I didn’t show what happened to little Calm either! She was supposed to wake up! With only her memories of life above the glass! I also forgot about Whittler too! Remember the old lady with the knives? She never came back! I SET HER UP in the previous book; I can’t just leave her out!
I sure hope Second Draft Brad is ready for all this.
Tecker arrives in Arsiling –
And he meets the Nameless‘ captain. Whose name I forgot again. I guess that’s what I get for waiting so long to name him.
Tecker meets other people here, and I think I’m most excited about the guy with the glowing mustache. I just made him up on the spot but I really like the idea of luminescent facial hair that shines with the power of a thousand suns. This person is a definite contender for “getting their role expanded in draft two.”
Flashing room with Zonzabee’s corpse –
This scene seems like the best place to end it. For the past few years I was thinking I wanted to end every book the same way: With an ominous epilogue told in present tense. See? There was a reason I talked about that happening in Warcraft at the start of my blog. I’m just not sure if it’s the best move in this case. If I were to put an epilogue in THIS story I’d probably have Tecker meeting people on Arsiling as he did in this chapter. And some evil laughing from the shadows. But it just seems to work better when told alongside Dark’s narration.
Oh well. First draft is done. Tell me what you think and I’ll consider my options! I suppose I should go through the second book again to get that cleaned up. Or should I focus on finding illustrators? So much work left to do.