Holly

Holly - Synopsis

The Amarici tribe has resided in the Valley of Amoszar for centuries. The stories of their ancestors arrival has been lost to the ages, yet the tribe live peacefully using technology left behind to lead self sufficient lives in the isolated rainforest treetops, beside the mighty Harus Falls. Holly, a young huntress sixteen rain seasons old, often wonders what lies beyond the valley, but is prevented from exploring further by the mysterious lights that patrol the jungle after nightfall.

    On the night of her sister’s wedding their village is suddenly attacked, with many villagers captured and taken to an unknown destination. Holly escapes, and in doing so discovers the great secret located behind Harus Falls. She then realises that the lives of her friends, family and neighbours now depend upon her, and she travels from her jungle home into the world beyond. In doing so she faces incredible dangers, an enemy that is ceaselessly searching for her, and learns the terrible fate of her ancestors and the world that came before.

The Lights

Members of the Amarici tribe know full well not to travel through the forest depths after sunset, for then the lights begin their hunt. It is said when they approach the insects cease their incessant buzzing, the birds in the trees refuse to call out, the tiny frogs climbing the damp tree trunks fail to even croak. When the cacophony of noise that usually engulfs the Valley of Amoszar is replaced by a deathly, pervasive silence, it is certain they are coming. This presents you with two choices, run or hide, and either way your chances of escape are minimal. Once you are uncovered by the dazzling beam of white light there is nowhere to run.

         The Amarici tribe has hid from the lights for generations. They cannot remember why they come, but come the lights do. Anyone beyond the boundary after the sun has set is putting their lives in incredible danger. Yet the lights never cross the boundary, merely prowl the outskirts waiting for one foolish enough to stray too far from the village. Tribal legends claimed that the lights were forbidden from entering their realm by the gods of the old religion, but in truth no-one knows why the lights stop or even exist at all.

     These thoughts did not ease the mind of Holly as she jumped onto the decaying tree stump and leapt over it. Her knee high hunting boots splashed into a muddy pool of rainwater, but she quickly used the momentum of her jump to dash forward at full speed. She breathed in the hot and humid air of the rainforest night, mud stains covering the elegantly crafted tattoo’s that curved their way around her arms. She stumbled over a root concealed by vegetation and collided with a tree trunk, grazing her arm and scratching her cheek. Yet she ignored the pain and continued to run, her long nut coloured hair flowing behind her like the flickering tail of a Jaguar.

       She dared not stop to catch her breath. The jungle had fallen silent minutes ago. She was certain the lights were closing in.

    She emerged into a clearing created by a recently fallen tree, fungus protruding from cracks in the sodden bark. The radiant light of the full moon illuminated the area through the hazy forest air, revealing the way ahead was blocked by a long, scraggy rock face at least twenty feet tall, against which leant the fallen tree. She swore under her breath as she realised she’d missed the opening in the rocks that lead to the boundary of her village. She was trapped.

     “Jark! Jark where the Harus are you?” she hissed as loudly as she dared, whirling about on the spot in search of the person to have led her to this dead end.

     “Up here Holly!” a hushed voice whispered to her from above. She tilted her head up and saw Jark clinging to a branch overhanging the drop, waving at her with his free hand. “Run up the tree and then climb the rest of the way. It’s the fastest way to the boundary!”

     “I wouldn’t have to climb up this thing if you’d just listened to me in the first place!” Holly snarled as she scrambled onto the massive tree, then running along its diagonally slanting trunk with her arms outstretched, helping her maintain her balance.

     “We don’t have time to argue!” Jark snapped at her, anxiously glancing out into the darkened trees that towered around the clearing, scanning for the slightest glimpse of light through them. “There’s a small ledge just above you. I’ll guide you up from here!”

    “I don’t need you instructing me!” Holly snapped, disguising her rising fear underneath her frustrated reply. She took a running jump and grasped the rocky ledge with her fingers. The stones were covered in moss and creeping vines that she had to pull away to find a decent grabbing point. The vegetation was soaked from the recent thunderstorm, and Holly could feel her wet fingers losing grip even as she found a foothold. Collecting herself for a second she then shimmied along the ledge until she arrived at a jagged toothy crack in the rock face, whereupon she clasped a protruding outcrop. But the moment she put her weight on it the rock broke and fell away. Holly cried out as her feet slipped but she just held on with her right hand, swinging from side to side as she scrabbled about trying to regain her footing, her shoulder feeling like it was being wrenched and contorted out of shape.

      “Come on Holly. You’ve got to speed it up!” Jark urged as Holly swung her flailing left arm up and clasped another outcrop.

     “That’s fantastic advice, thanks,” Holly barked as she clambered into the jagged crack, her voice seeming to slice through the terrifyingly silent forest. She pressed her back against the craggy surface of the rock as she pushed against the opposite side with her feet. Moving arduously upwards she shuffled one foot after the other, scraping her back against the rugged stones. Water dripped onto her face and seeped into her mud stained top and sleeveless jacket. She gritted her teeth as a searing cramp engulfed her right calf, but relying on her adrenaline she continued her ascent. As she neared the top Jark dropped to the ground and lay on his front, outstretching his hand to her. Holly steadied herself, breathing fast and rhythmically, before she kicked against the cliff face and swung her right arm. She clasped his hand tightly and used her feet to propel herself while Jark hauled her to the summit. 

    Holly fell to ground, gasping for air as she stared at the empty sky through the canopy. She wriggled her aching fingers then massaged her cramped leg. Rolling over she saw Jark lying next to her, the dark haired boy with tattooed streaks across his arms, neck and cheeks gasping heavily for air.

     “Next time you suggest we take one of your brilliant shortcuts, remind me to push you over a waterfall,” she said as she hauled herself to her feet.

    Jark smiled as he also stood up, stretching his arms and muscles as if getting out of bed. “Relax Holly, I knew exactly what I was doing.”

    Then they heard it. A persistent, high pitched drone that grew ominously louder as it approached from the south. They stared from the cliff top, hearing the frantic screeches of Parita monkeys roused from their slumber by the rising din. Then they saw the beam of light, weaving its way through the forest along the exact same path they had taken. Its shape seemed to twist and contort as it moved through the trees, ever encroaching upon their position.

     “The boundary, run!” Holly hissed, at which she and Jark turned and fled into the jungle.

    She knew the light was right behind them from the way it reflected off of the wet rocks and vegetation, but she dared not look back. A fresh surge of adrenaline kept her running faster then she could have ever thought possible. Fern leaves slapped her legs as she scrambled through a hidden patch. She saw the fallen tree blocking her path from some distance, and grabbing a low hanging branch she used her momentum to swing up, then released her grip so she vaulted straight over. The light wasn’t hindered by such obstacles; it simply maintained its relentless pursuit of her and Jark. As she jumped down a small mound and rolled upon landing, she noticed how the brightness of the light was intensifying, while the whirring noise filling her ears became louder and louder. A few more seconds and it would not matter how fast they could run.

    Then out of nowhere they hit the boundary. It was a brown stretch of earth no more than a metre across that ran for miles around their village in a circle, identified by a line of purple tinted gems that ran right down the tracks centre. No plants grew on it, not even weeds. All that Holly and Jark knew for certain is that once they crossed it they would be safe, so not wasting another second they leapt across in one bound.

    The beam of light was right behind them, but when it reached the dirt track in shuddered to a halt. They watched on uncertainly as the beam remained motionless for a few moments, the edges refusing to touch the brown earth of the pathway. Then it began to slowly saunter away on a different trajectory, the light fading through the tree trunks as the noise evaporated into the night.

    Holly and Jark continued to clutch each other tightly until sure they were safe. Then they broke apart as their bodies began to replenish their depleted air supply. In between deep breaths Holly asked, “You call that knowing what you were doing?”

     “In all honesty, that was more improvisation,” Jark grinned at her.

    Holly emitted a strange noise that took her a split second to realise was a laugh. Now grinning herself she knelt down and scooped up a handful of sodden mud from the puddle at her feet. “So’s this,” she smirked, before she rose up and hurled the dirt into Jarks face with a satisfying splat.  

     Five sunrises later and Holly woke to the sound of a parita monkey screeching from the canopy above her house. She opened her eyes and blearily checked the rays of sun on her bedroom floor and where they lay in conjunction with marks scratched into the wood. She discovered from this that it was 9:45 in the morning, and she had overslept. Cursing loudly she threw off her fur blanket and jumped out of bed.

     She skipped across the bedroom floor, grabbing her clothes from yesterday that lay scattered around her bare feet. She had no time to use last night’s storm water for a shower. She threw on her dark top, sleeveless jacket and knee length skirt, before she hopped on the spot as she pulled on her favourite pair of hunting boots. She reluctantly eyed the red dress made out of the finest woven material provided by Piark the tailor, glad it was not yet time to put it on. She could continue to wear what her father affectionately called her ‘scrambling clothes’ for a few hours yet.

     She ran to her washbasin and turned the crank in the wall to power up the light bulb that hung from the ceiling. As it illuminated the circular mirror she quickly washed the mud stains from her face and arms. The tattoos covering her skin were of her own design, curling about her arms in twisting swirls with twin black stripes on her both her cheeks. It was a sign of individuality among her tribe, of defining and celebrating her unique personality.

    “Holly, Holly where are you?” she heard a familiar voice faintly calling from outside.

    “Give me a minute!” Holly bellowed irritably, tying back her long hair into a flowing ponytail. Then she ran through the furs covering the entrance to her house and stepped out onto the balcony.

     Holly lived in a two roomed hut built above the ground and fixed to the trunk of a sturdy tree, as were all the buildings in which members of the Americi tribe resided. A network of strong wooden walkways and bridges ran from building to building, with vines and colourful flowers curling around the railings and support pillars. They had barely needed to cut down a single tree to construct their thriving, self sustained community, relying solely on what nature provided. A system of cranes, pulley’s and lifts allowed the swift movement of goods and pedestrians. The members of her community lived and worked hanging over the forest floor, hiding in the canopy’s shadow as the jungle animals continued their struggle for survival above and below.

      Holly had lived alone in her hut on the town outskirts since the celebration of her sixteenth rain season three full moons ago. She had no fear of living alone because as an already experienced huntress she was more than capable of handling herself in a fight. Her parents had never born a son, but often joked that having had Holly they didn’t need one. She was about as different to her older sisters as she could get.

      One of these sisters was waiting for her at the foot of her balcony. Nilar folded her arms as she saw Holly emerge onto her balcony. “You’re becoming lazier then a Vezun sloth, you know that?”

    “Can a Vezun sloth do this?” Holly shouted. Then instead of descending down the ladder she grabbed the rope used to winch up supplies, and wrapping her arms and legs around it she slid all the way down. She landed on the walkway with a loud thump, giving her older sister the fright of her life.

      “Ever wondered what life would be like if you knew how to be quiet?” Nilar asked as Holly staggered over to where she was standing.

    “I’d be a lot less interesting for one thing,” Holly smirked. “I haven’t missed anything too dramatic right?”

    “Only the bride’s repeated panic attacks and mum flapping about wondering where you are,” Nilar told her. Giving Holly a gentle shove on the shoulder she said, “You’re wanted at the Falls of Harus, so it’s a good job you’re bursting with energy.”

      “What about you?”

      “I’ve been sent to get some more flowers from the trading post. I think we’ve got plenty, but you know our sister. Everything has to be perfect.”

      “Get me a bag of orange syrup slices would you?” Holly yelled as she jogged backwards.

     “Why would I? You’re hyper enough as it is!” Nilar laughed, pointing in the direction Holly needed to go. “Go on, scram, before you send mum bonkers!”

     Holly laughed to herself as she sprinted along the walkway. Her footsteps echoed off the wooden walkway as she ran, the light bulbs hanging from the support struts illuminating her way as they had yet to be turned off from the night before. They could afford to be wasteful; they were all powered by the massive waterwheel that churned through the Harus River. She caught sight of it to her left as she ran along, noting how fast it spun due to how the river had swelled from the recent flurry of thunderstorms.  She quickly peered over the edge at the white, frothing water below as it flowed onwards in a raging torrent.

      As she ran past Jark’s hut her thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous night. They’d both been incredibly lucky to escape. It had been years since the lights had taken a member of the tribe, a young woman by the name of Cisett. She got caught out late with her boyfriend when they were tailed by the lights. Her boyfriend had escaped, but Cisett had been less fortunate. He’d reported seeing her caught inside the beam, following whichever way she moved. Then there had been a loud buzzing sound, before long vines made out of metal descended from the sky and wrapped their way around her body. She had struggled and screamed but to no avail, and slowly but surely she was picked up off the floor and pulled to the sky. Then in an instant the light disappeared, and her with it. She had never been seen again.

     Holly hadn’t told anyone about what had happened, and neither had Jark. They decided her family had enough to worry about with the upcoming wedding then to reflect on her close call. But truth was everyone was concerned about the increase in light activity. They had always been menaced by them beyond the boundary after dark, but recently they had been increasing in number, their searches seeming to become much more frantic. People could see them from the platform at the top of the Meeting Tree, watching from afar as the disembodied beams scanned the jungle beyond their territory. This change in behaviour had people worried, though there was no reason to suspect that they would be able to cross the boundary.

    But for today those fears would be put aside as the entire village united in joy for the happy couple. She ran past women twining white flowers through the railings and lamps along the route the couple would take, the ceremony taking place at Holly’s favourite place in the entire forest.

    The walkway curled to the left and guided her through a break in the trees. Sometimes the sight that greeted her at this moment still conspired to take her breath away. She emerged into a massive clearing created by a colossal, thundering waterfall. Vast pillars of water fell to earth in torrents whichever way you looked, thick vivid rainbows arching over the walkway magnificently. The spray emitted from the falls tumbled across her path, covering sections with a thick mist and making dew drops form on her tattooed arms. They were the Falls of Harus, the towering waterfalls acting as protector for the villages north west corner.

    Holly gazed at the tumbling cascade beyond the walkway. She could spend hours leaning against the railing by the memorial to the lost god Harus. Often she closed her eyes, feeling the spray engulf her body and listening to the hypnotic churn of the falling water. Sometimes she could swear she heard changes in consistent crashing of the water. It was probably her imagination, but sometimes it seemed the falls were beating out a rhythm, like the beating of jungle drums. Then, as if waking from a dream you can remember only vaguely, she would open her eyes to find nothing had changed.

    But Holly didn’t have time to dwell on such things. She had a wedding to prepare for.   

Copyright Michael Foster 2012

Writing for Video Games - My Time at Lumb Bank.

For the past week I've been in blissful isolation (though with perfect mobile reception) in the deep and frosty dales of West Yorkshire at the writers retreat of Lumb Bank. I was participating in a course that focused on Writing for Video Games. I spent my time in the compay of twelve people with a wealth of experience in either gaming or writing, and we used it as the perfect opportunity to develop our perspective crafts. Our tutors were the very knowledgeable, highly talented and superbly creative Naomi Alderman and David Varela, who used their extensive knowledge of all things interactive to provide an intriguing and thought provoking course.

At first you would think that this would entail plenty of discussion about games along the ilk of Assassin's Creed, Heavy Rain, LA Noire and other big hitting triple A games. And you would be correct, because a lot of discussion of these titles went on. Whether we were debating how effectively Portal 2 uses the environment to reveal the secrets of the laboratory you are trapped in, or whether John Marsden from Red Dead Redemption is a one dimensional avatar incapable of changing his personality to fit his actions, there was plenty of disecting of all the large blockbusters to be had.

Yet there was plenty of exploration to be had regarding the world of interactive fiction, particularly those to be found online. We were encouraged to seriously consider the ever changing landscape of the internet and apps to work and publicise our craft. It certainly gave me some ideas with regards to how I can achieve a wider audience with my work. The advice provided was fresh and came from a perspective I had not heard from before. Guest speaker Rhianna Pratchett provided a fascinating insight into the processes and environments game writers must work in, and I'm additionally glad I did not poison her when I baked my first ever apple crumble.

In addition to all the writing and game discussion, I found Lumb Bank a fantastically productive place for my writing, and highly recommend it to all my writing peeps if you want to hone your craft while writing in peace. The scenery is fantastic, with plenty of amazing walks oer hill and dale to get the creative juices flowing. And I will never forget my online scheming as an ambassador for Ghana, ripping apart helpless villagers as a werewolf, and meeting the enlightening and highly profound character that was Malcolm (I suggest you don't ask).

I will be posting the fruits of my labour shortly, a story I've had knocking about in the back of my head for months, years even. I always thought it would be well suited to a video game setting, so I thought a course based around video gaming writing would be the best opportunity to explore this new character and her world. Been a long time since I wrote so much in the space of four days. Though if this snow carries on I could have plenty more time alone to write.