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Post by Anim8tr on Mar 15, 2006 4:23:13 GMT
It took a few chapters to lure me in, but damned if I ain't excited now!! Please Nerf, keep it up! You got the makings for a great story! And both the syntax and structure are brilliant!!
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Post by EvilNerfherder on Mar 15, 2006 9:08:27 GMT
Where did you get the idea to do this? I got the idea because there has never, to my knowledge, been a true sequel to WoTW.. all other books or stories I have read on this theme either run parallel or have little to do with the original plot. I've always wanted to see what happened to the Narrator after the War and get an explaination for some of the briefly mentioned events in the original novel. I also wanted to explore some of the vaguer aspects of HG's book. So I thought I'd have a crack at it myself.
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Post by Commandingtripod on Mar 15, 2006 9:10:25 GMT
I see.
Well I think you've done quite well. ;D
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Post by richardburton on Mar 15, 2006 9:29:37 GMT
Love those next two installments. You're certainly maintaining the reader's interest and each new installment both reveals a little bit more but also poses further questions. Good stuff - keep it coming.
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Post by Rob on Mar 15, 2006 10:14:36 GMT
I think you could really be on to soething here Nerfy, don't try and end it too quickly, I'm loving the journey, as RB said, it answers and raises questions a the same time.
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Post by Commandingtripod on Mar 15, 2006 10:19:32 GMT
Agreed. Keep it going Nerfy.
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Post by EvilNerfherder on Mar 15, 2006 22:21:38 GMT
THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.
5.Observations.
Cavendish rummaged in his pocket for a moment and pulled out a set of keys. ‘Ah, here we are,’ he said, advancing on a huge walk-in safe at the corner of his office. Inserting the keys, he dextrously twisted the number dial this way and that, stood back and twisted the handle. With a solid sounding clank, the door was pulled open. Cavendish’s large frame disappeared into the darkness within for a moment then re-emerged. He was holding a large, ornately carved wooden box. Placing it carefully and reverently on his massive oaken desk, as if it contained a relic of the Lord himself, he spoke. ‘This box, my friend, contains one of our most important finds. This device could give us the warning we need in the event our erstwhile conquerors resume their plans.’ He took a small key on his key ring, inserted it into a small golden lock in the box and slowly lifted the lid. Inside the box, on a cushion of blue-black velvet was an ovoid shape covered in a cloth. Cavendish pulled this last away to reveal an egg-like object. ‘Beautiful, is it not?’ Sir George breathed. Horton, as usual, remained quite silent. ‘It is not a Faberge,’ I said with authority. I had an acquaintance who had shown me one of the Imperial Eggs. Cavendish regarded me for a moment with his watery eyes. ‘Indeed it is not. Those trinkets cannot touch this in terms of beauty nor rarity.’ The Crystal Egg was beautiful. But somehow it seemed to me beautiful in the way Nature at her most cruel can be. The thing was eerie to behold. It was like a giant cut diamond. Not a flaw could I see within it's fabric. It's facets shone in the electric lights of the study. I looked closer. Within, as I watched, small flecks of light appeared to play. The lights almost instantly held a slight mesmerizing sway over me. If Cavendish and Horton had left me, I may well have stared into that strange device forever. ‘You see them, eh? Not everyone can.’ Cavendish grinned proudly at me as if I were a promising pupil. My trance was broken by his voice. ‘What is it?’ I asked tearing my eyes away. ‘Who made this?’ ‘Who made it is unclear,’ he admitted. ‘ But it appears to be of Martian manufacture.’ ‘Martian?’ I was surprised. ‘Horton came upon it quite by chance. It had sat for some time in a little antique shop run by a queer little fellow by the name of Cave and Horton learned about it from a friend of his at St Catherine’s Hospital. When Mr Cave died recently, Horton ‘acquired’ it. Blind luck we found it at all, really’ ‘If it is Martian, how did it get here? Did they bring it with them?’ Cavendish shook his head. 'It was here before they landed.' I was more baffled than ever. 'How can that be?' ‘I wish I knew,’ the man seemed uncomfortable with his lack of knowledge. ‘What is important is what it can do for us.’ ‘What is that?’ I asked. ‘Sit in this chair before the egg. That’s it. Now look into the Egg. No, move your head up a little. There, that should be about the right angle.’ I stared into the Egg once again. The lights danced before my eyes once more then seemed to home in on each other. There was now one soft light that slowly grew brighter. I began to see pictures. I saw odd-looking buildings, domed, not unlike mosques. They stood next to canals in which water flowed. I saw vegetation everywhere. Red Vegetation. ‘My god!’ I breathed. Bulky, grey-brown shapes bounced and leaped on thick tentacles around this surreal city. A five-legged, crab-like machine stalked by, the sun glinting off its metallic surface. Pale biped figures were sitting passively in a great basket on its back. ‘Is this Mars?’ I asked finally. ‘It can be nowhere else,’ Cavendish replied simply. I tore my disbelieving eyes away from the somehow nightmarish sight. ‘Well,’ I said after a moment. ‘Now I see what you meant by other ways of observing. Incredible!’ Cavendish nodded. ‘We can observe much of what happens on the planet. Any undue activity and we shall spot it.’ A thought sped into my mind. ‘Can they not see us through this thing?’ ‘We don’t know,’ Cavendish answered. ‘They seem to peer into it from time to time. It is most disconcerting to look into it and see the eyes of a Martian seemingly look straight back at you, I can assure you. We have guessed that they have similar devices on Mars but they show no sign of actually seeing us looking at them. The view in the Egg changes periodically, but we have no idea why and how.’ I could think of nothing else to say. This thing was truly one of the strangest devices I had seen yet. Cavendish stood. ‘I think that’s enough wonders for one day, Smith. It is late and we have a full day ahead of us tomorrow. We should all get some rest.’ Back in my room, I wrote a rough account of this first most amazing day in my journal. When I had finished, tired and utterly exhausted, I went to bed. I was asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.
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Post by Commandingtripod on Mar 15, 2006 23:50:05 GMT
This is great stuff Nerfy. ;D The introduction about the crystal egg is fantasic as well. Even I didn't guess that was coming.
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Post by EvilNerfherder on Mar 16, 2006 1:21:49 GMT
THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH
6. The Tour.
I awoke at around ten the next morning much refreshed. I had not dreamt of the Martians or their machines for the first time, perhaps, since the War had ended. Perhaps, I think, the massive sensory overload of the previous day had prompted my weary mind to protect me from further depravations. Whatever the reason, I felt much better and ready to face whatever new amazements the day might hold. As I was washing, an orderly rapped on my door and, opening it, peered into the room. ‘Breakfast, sir?’ When I had dressed, the man escorted me to the dining room where I found Cavendish and Horton waiting for me. They had evidently eaten long before and sat nursing cups of coffee. ‘Did you sleep well, old man?’ Cavendish asked. ‘Like a top,’ I answered. ‘I’m ravenous. What’s for breakfast?’ The orderly appeared again as if by some unspoken command and placed before me a plate of Scottish kippers accompanied by hot buttered toast. As I devoured the meal, Horton watched me silently whilst Cavendish made small talk. ‘When you are ready, Smith,’ the older man said at length. ‘We shall take you on a tour of our facility. To write properly of our work you will need to see it for yourself.’ Pushing my plate away and slurping the last of my coffee, I stood satisfied. ‘Then there is no time like the present.’
We walked together down another long sloping corridor. I found myself feeling disorientated as there were no signs and one corridor looked much alike another. Unlike the extravagantly decorated rooms I had seen so far, the walls were rough, bare stone and the smooth floor painted a dull grey. Electric lights were fixed to the walls at intervals and we cast strange distorted shadows around us. I had the idea that, as the slope of the corridor got slightly steeper, I thought I knew how Verne’s Professor Hardwigg and his party must have felt as they started on their journey into the bowels of the Earth. Unlike those intrepid explorers, though, we had no runes to guide us. Soon, we came to a dog-leg in the corridor and Cavendish held open some large double doors. I went ahead and found myself in another cavernous chamber. In this one, my ears caught a dull throbbing sound and in front of me, a large metal stand held something bulky. It was a large box with a tube protruding from it. I realised quickly that the sound was emanating from this thing. ‘Do you recognise that?’ Cavendish asked from over my shoulder. ‘Dear God! It’s a Heat-ray, isn’t it?’ ‘It is,’ Cavendish confirmed. ‘Soon, we hope to be able to fire it.’ I was astounded. ‘Fire it? It’s too dangerous man! I’ve seen what those things can do!’ ‘I’m assured it will be quite safe under the right conditions. It is apparently quite undamaged and we will take every precaution possible.’ ‘Do you know how it works?’ I asked. ‘The papers said that its workings were unfathomable.’ ‘ Putting it extremely simply, we are coming to the conclusion that it works using energy created at an atomic level. We cannot be sure how this happens, though and we continue to investigate.’ ‘You understand it so little and yet you think to fire it?’ It struck me as madness. ‘We will. When the time is right. These devices could be our best defence. Imagine being able to use the Martian’s own weapons to defeat them! We must continue our research’ I said no more but I thought of the Artilleryman, who had made a similar plea in a different and more turbulent time. We moved on. The next area I was shown contained another Martian machine, or part of one anyway. It was a Tripod, all right, but the legs had been severed about ten feet from where they joined the body of the machine. As I watched, a man in a one-piece suit clambered up a ladder into the hood and disappeared from view. ‘The controls, as I suggested before, are quite simple,’ Cavendish explained. ‘There are a system of levers in the hood which move the thing around. The machines are, essentially, driven by way of a sort of artificial muscle. You will have seen the green smoke that emanates from the machines as they walk and we are analysing this substance to see if it can be replicated. At the moment, we can only drive machines that have been left operational, but we hope to be able to create our own if we can unlock their secrets.’ Fascinated, I watched as the hood of the machine swayed from side to side, then up and down. Suddenly, the machine lurched forward, the truncated legs making a sharp clank as they impacted with the stone floor. It was a disturbing sight, even if the being at the controls was human. I glanced at my companions. Horton looked as impassive and unimpressed as ever, Cavendish was making small clapping motions with his hands. He looked like an oversized schoolboy spying his first steam engine. The Fighting Machine jerked forward a little more but suddenly one leg swung out to the side and the whole thing toppled over on its belly with a resounding crash. White-coated scientists rushed to help the stunned driver out, whilst others inspected the machine. A scientist walked quickly over to us and whispered something into Cavendish’s ear. Cavendish whispered harshly back and the man disappeared again. ‘Problems?’ I asked. To my surprise, I imagined I saw a smirk, ever so briefly, flicker across Horton’s face. ‘Teething troubles,’ Cavendish grumbled. ‘It’s to be expected. Come, Smith, I think it’s time you saw our biggest secret.’
We wandered through a kind of airlock fronted by a huge steel door, not unlike one you would see in a bank vault, into another room. This place was smaller and was dimly lit. At one end I saw a great steel door with several locks on it. An army sergeant stood up behind his desk and hurriedly dropped a copy of Pearson’s Magazine to the desk. ‘Stand easy, Sergeant,’ Cavendish said. ‘How is our guest?’ Who was he talking about? I was puzzled. ‘Restless, Suh!’ barked the soldier. ‘Made a helluva din earlier. I don’t think he likes the food, Suh!’ ‘Well, he’ll have to make do won’t he?’ Cavendish said. ‘Come, Smith, meet our friend.’ I walked forward, uncertain. The Sergeant unlocked a slot in the door and Cavendish waved me forward. I glanced at Horton. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Taking a deep breath and steeling myself, although I knew not why, I put my eyes to the slot. Hooting softly, the Martian stared steadily and menacingly back at me.
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Post by Poyks on Mar 16, 2006 8:23:47 GMT
That's amazing dude!....
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Post by Luperis on Mar 16, 2006 8:32:59 GMT
Wow! This is just getting better and better! I'm hooked. Well done, Nerfy! ;D I love the introduction of the crystal egg and the martian ;D
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Post by Rob on Mar 16, 2006 10:11:00 GMT
I'm finding this to be a very comfortable read, it really feels like a true sequal to the story. This is something alot of us have wanted to read for a long time. 100% gripping, I need to get back to work
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Post by David Faltskog on Mar 16, 2006 11:19:19 GMT
That's amazing dude!.... Poyks still thinking it's 1977 shall i tell him? The return of D.F.
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Post by Tripod on Mar 16, 2006 18:59:54 GMT
Most impressive, I like your style. It's very comprehensible and a joy to read.
Tripod
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Post by Poyks on Mar 16, 2006 19:05:34 GMT
That's amazing dude!.... Poyks still thinking it's 1977 shall i tell him? The return of D.F. Hey like.... don't drag me down man!
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Post by richardburton on Mar 17, 2006 10:19:15 GMT
Fantastic stuff, Nerf, mate. I agree with what's already been said - it flows well, making it easy to read and is very much of a style that it does actually feel like a true sequel to the original work. Well done.
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Post by EvilNerfherder on Mar 17, 2006 11:56:20 GMT
Ta. I'll knock some more out over the weekend.
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Post by jeffwaynefan on Mar 17, 2006 13:50:11 GMT
Note: In this document, I shall assume the name of John Smith. This is not my real name. I enjoyed that, very very good work Nerfy - However, your chappie have nicked my name ;D
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Post by EvilNerfherder on Mar 17, 2006 13:57:40 GMT
The spelling was changed to protect the .. er.. innocent.
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Post by Rob on Mar 18, 2006 10:26:22 GMT
I went for the part but got turned down
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