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Old March 3rd, 2008, 08:59 PM
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Agatagary Agatagary is offline
 
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The Heroscape Chronicles: Chapter 1

The Heroscape Chronicles
Book 1: The Rise of the Valkyrie
By Agatagary
Chapter One: Jandar's Discovery

Jandar flew calmly above Bleakewoode Forest, enjoying the breeze as it blew across his face. As a kyrie, he loved to fly, and he enjoyed the cool air above Bleakewoode. Unfortunately, his high spirits were somewhat dampened by the monstrous mountain fortress off in the distance, always in view. In that fortress dwelled the tyrant Utgar, and Jandar was always afraid when flying over Bleakewoode that he would be spotted by one of Utgar's sentries, and pursued.

But it never happened. When Utgar did come out of his fortress with his forces, it was always easy to tell because they raised a racket audible and visible for miles around. War drums were banged, and the cloud of kyries filled the sky and blotted out the sun. If that was not enough, all of the birds in Bleakewoode fled when the massive hordes poured out of the mountain. No, Jandar knew, he was safe. Yet, despite logic, he still felt somewhat uneasy.

On this day, Jandar was not merely flying for pleasure, however. He had a task to do for the council. His father, Hothgraer, had given him a message to deliver to the Soltha tribe, near Trollsford Swamp. He knew not the contents of the message, but supposed that it was important, just like everything else the council did.

Nowadays, he thought, the Council seems to be more of a war alliances group than a global trade and law organization. I suppose that it's Utgar's fault.

Indeed, many things seemed to be Utgar's fault. After taking control of a rather large area of land, the tyrannical kyrie had been using his vast horde mostly to have fun terrorizing villages, committing atrocities that even his minions must have found horrendous. Yet, for some reason, they continued to follow him. Jandar was glad that the council still managed to resist him, or the world would certainly be under his demonic control by now.

Jandar began to wish that he had eaten and drank before he had set off on his errand. He was beginning to feel rather thirsty, and his stomach was growling. He shrugged it off. He had a mission to accomplish.



The Archkyrie, Morimghor, motioned to another kyrie clad in green, who immediately blew hard on a long trumpet-like instrument, bringing the hall to order. The hundred or so representatives of all the different tribes settled down.

"Let us begin the seven-thousand four-hundred twenty-seventh session of the Kyrie Council of Valhalla. Last time, we were discussing plans to create a more formal alliance, I believe. As you all currently know, right now we are bound by no more than a loose alliance between all of our tribes. While this is certainly beneficial to our individual autonomies, it makes it difficult to formulate a concerted effort against Utgar's forces. Representative Kerlondar of the Kolfor tribe had a proposition to make, I believe, to remedy this division."

Representative Kerlondar rose, flew up to the podium, and nodded to the crowd. "My fellow representatives, the main problem that I see with our current alliance is the difficulties that it causes in terms of military command structure. Because our warriors will only unconditionally follow the orders of commanders from their individual tribes, it creates an unnecessary and grossly inefficient military structure. My proposal to remedy this state of affairs is, you may think, somewhat radical, but I believe that it may be our only hope if we are to form any sort of significant resistance against Utgar's hordes. My proposal is that we solidify all of our soldiers into one, unified army- the army of the Council. Soldiers would be taught to be loyal to the council, rather than to any one tribe, and would follow the orders of their commanding officers, regardless of tribal affiliation."

There was a great deal of muttering at this. Some of the representatives were grumbling, and looking somewhat unpleased, while others seemed to be nodding as if they thought it a reasonable idea. Some, of course, had unfathomable expressions. Kerlondar thanked the Archkyrie, and flew back to his seat. After the muttering had subsided, the Archkyrie spoke again.

"You have heard his proposal; before we vote on his solution, would anybody like to speak on behalf or against it? Yes, Representative Hothgraer of the Thorrim."

Hothgraer flew up to the podium and immediately began speaking. His voice was clear and confident. "I personally am somewhat confused that this issue has not been brought up before. We are fighting a war here! Utgarís hordes are united; why are our forces still divided like this? I agree with representative Kerlondar, and hope that we can resolve this issue quickly. United, we shall sweep the tyrantís throne from under him!" There was some hesitant applause after this; some of the other representatives seemed a bit uncertain. Representative Kerlondar, however, smiled broadly at Hothgraer.

"Thank you, Representative Hothgraer. Next- ah, Representative Engdear, of the Espilor Tribe."

A black-robed kyrie flew up to the podium. He seemed very old. "My fellow representatives, Kerlondar and Hothgraer make some valid points, but I do not think that unifying the army is the right thing to do. Think to yourselves; would you entrust your childrenís lives to a commander from another tribe? We may be allies, but without tribal bonds the commanders would have no great incentives to preserve our warriors. They would be used, not as living soldiers, but as mere tools of war, disposable things. Our warriors should be led by other warriors of our own tribes. I therefore propose that instead of this clumsy arrangement that currently stands, we have our warriors return to our tribes, and then each form our own tribal armies, to be given complete autonomy. This will both improve efficiency and preserve our autonomy." There was some muttering at this, but there was also some enthusiastic applause. The Archkyrie silenced the hall quickly, though.

"Representative Engdear, thank you for your suggestion, but we are debating Representative Kerlondarís proposal at the moment. Would anybody else like to speak?" Nobody would, it seemed. All the important points had been covered.

"Excellent. Let us vote, then. The proposal is to assimilate all allied soldiers into a unified army, to be controlled purely by the council."

There was a rustling of noise, as the kyrie representatives across the hall selected either a blue, yellow, or red stone and placed it in the opening of the tube in front of each of them. These stones would roll down to the podium and be sorted by weight and deposited into jars. A sophisticated mechanism counted the stones. Blue signified an affirmative vote, yellow an abstention, and red a negative vote. The hall was silent for a few minutes. Then-

The Archkyrie cleared his throat. In a loud voice, he said, "Proposal fails."



Ullar blinked, and woke up. Stretching, she realized that she had fallen asleep again, though it had been several hours since she had woken up. She looked across the vast expanse of green that was Bleakewoode forest. She smiled, and turned around to look at the enormous mountain range behind her. Many kyries would never even imagine living in such close proximity to Utgar, but Ullar knew that it was perhaps the safest place to be in such an age of warfare. As a human might say, the safest place to swim is behind a shark. There are, however, no sharks on Valhalla, so this idiom never emerged.

Another human saying that might explain Ullarís choice of a home would be, "Keep your enemies close." Utgar was indeed Ullarís enemy, but not merely in the dispassionate way that some kyries viewed him. Ullar could still remember the horrors of her childhood, the day when Utgarís forces came to her village, with terrible clarity. For no reason other than boredom, the demonic minions of the tyrant had tortured and slaughtered her tribe, and burned down the tribe tree, killing the thousands of ancestral minds housed there. The only reason that she had not been killed as well was that she was small enough to not be noticed when she had been knocked into a thick bramble of bushes. As a result, she hated Utgar bitterly. Living by Utgarís stronghold of power, she hoped to someday get even with the despotic kyrie.

Patting the tree below her, Ullar stood up and removed her bow and arrows from a stub of a branch. Ullar lived in the upper branches of Zorlarth, the king of the forest. Zorlarth was an enormous tree, but not so big as to be overly conspicuous. His roots went deep into the ground, and he had survived many storms that had felled other trees, incidentally shielding her from the fierce winds and elements as well. Ullar had learned long ago that trees, as a general rule, did not really think; had no minds of their own. Zorlarth, however... Zorlarth seemed different than the trees around him. He seemed to actually think, and plan, although in a slow and leisurely way. Although she could not fathom what he was thinking about, she was quite glad to have the company.

Ullar leaped down from Zorlarthís branches, landing on the shadowy floor of Bleakewoode forest. It was time to go and find some breakfast.



After arriving at the village of the Soltha tribe and delivering the message, Jandar was eager to get home. As he flew back across Bleakewoode forest, he wondered if there was any other way for him to aid the war effort. Delivering messages for the council was fine, and probably very useful, but it was beginning to get boring. Jandar wanted to be instrumental to the victory, wanted to earn glory for himself and for the Thorrim. He wanted the land to be rid of Utgar more, of course, but some personal honor and glory would be excellent too. He wondered if he should sign up for the allied army as a soldier.

As he flew above Bleakewoode, thinking about his future, he was startled to notice a brilliant light shining up from below. The light intensified until it was almost blinding, then dimmed so rapidly that he was left wondering where it had gone. He looked around. It was still the morning, so it was unlikely that the light had come from the sun, in any case, it seemed too localized. Excitedly, he looked around in the general direction of the source, wondering if it might be another artifact. Artifacts were scattered all about, and Bleakewoode was famous for being the source of many of them. Jandar wondered if he might have found another artifact. If so, it would be a momentous occasion. Hundreds of magical artifacts were stored by the council in a secret location, waiting to be used by warriors that proved themselves worthy, and he might have the privilege of adding another one.

Jandar searched and searched, but saw nothing below him that looked remotely like a magical artifact. Sighing, he supposed that it was probably too good to be true anyway. He suddenly realized that it was much brighter in the forest; it was a little past noon, judging by the position of the sun. Jandar also realized that he was sweating. He was getting thirsty. He looked around for a pool of some sort, from which he could drink. Bacteria and disease of any sort were completely unknown on Valhalla, and all freshwater was therefore safe to drink, although some streams could taste terrible or even be harmful due to pollution. But he saw none.

Wearily, Jandar began to head back home. Suddenly, he had a stroke of luck. Just a little bit ahead of him was a clearing, and in the middle of the clearing was...water! He quickly dropped into the clearing in the forest. He was about to take a sip of water, when he noticed something odd about the water.

It was sparkling.

The water glittered in strange and sparkling patterns, as though a million golden particles floated in it. Jandar hesitated, but then rationalized that it was probably just loaded with minerals. It would probably taste bad, but it would be healthy for him. Using his leather helmet as a cup, he took a long drink of water.

As he was reaching in to the pool to take another helmetful of water, Jandar suddenly felt very tired. Alarmed, he leaped away from the pool. Suddenly overcome with sleepiness, Jandar collapsed against a tree, as his consciousness faded away...



Finn trudged across a barren, white landscape, five fellow warriors behind him. The snows were blowing so hard that it was difficult to see anything farther than about 20 feet away, but he and his warriors were used to it. They were headed inland, towards a village of foreign demons, a.k.a. peasants who happened to live in a village that had sent a devastating raid towards Finnís village a few years back. None of the culprits of the raid were still alive, having succumbed to a freak blizzard on the way back, but the Viking warriors now headed towards what they were sure would be a wonderful battle knew none of this, and probably would not have cared even if they did. Finn led his team of warriors for only two purposes; vengeance, and glory. Finn was sure that this raid would earn him a place in Valhalla. Interestingly, as it turns out, he was completely right.

"Halt!" cried Finn. Behind him, his brother Thorgrim repeated the order to the other four warriors. Finn looked around, suspiciously. He had seen nothing, heard nothing, and smelt nothing, at least not conscious. Yet something about the area reeked of...

"Ambush!" cried Finn. Instantly, swords, shields and spears leapt into the hands and arms of every Viking, and they instinctively formed themselves into an outward facing circle. Finn cursed. From beneath the snow all around them rose twelve warriors, clearly anticipating their arrival. "Valguard!" spat Finn. One of the largest of them approached him. Valguard was a terrifying sight. Wild, brutish, and unfortunately extremely cunning, Valguard was the only constant enemy of Finn. His left arm had been burnt horrifically in a raid on Finnís village, leaving a reddish appendage that, strangely, made him look even more terrifying. Unfortunately, Valguard was an excellent commander, masterful tactician, and fearsome warrior, although Finn would never have admitted it to anybody else.

"Finn!" roared Valguard. "How good to see you again! Maybe you see that weíve been expecting you? How would you like to die, Finn Strongspirit?"

"I wouldnít," spat Finn, "although I have a few suggestions for yourself. Attack, men!"

The six Vikings leapt forth to attack Valguard and his fighters, prepared to die.



Jandar found himself floating, his mind feeling strange and his body feeling absurdly light. In fact, it was almost as though he did not exist. Perhaps I donít, he thought. He floated in a black abyss, above a blue and white sphere. Looking closer, he could see some green. What is that? He wondered. He realized that it was enormous. Thinking, he recognized the white areas as cloud, and the blue as water. There is a tremendous amount of water there, he thought. Then he realized, Itís Valhalla!

Jandar was astonished. Although he knew, like all kyries, that Valhalla was round by common sense (what else could it be, after all?), he never expected it to look quite like this. That may be because it isnít Valhalla, said a strange voice in his head, that he had never heard before.

Not Valhalla? Yes... there does seem to be a lot of water, Jandar thought. But if it isnít Valhalla, then what could it be?

EARTH.

Jandar was stunned. This was not him, this was information that he had never heard before. Who are you? He thought. There was no answer for a moment, and then,

THE KNOWLEDGE COMES FROM THE WATER.

It was not a voice, he realized, rather a sort of...indescribable quality of knowing. Somehow, he knew the answer to any question that he thought of about this world.

Jandar found that he was able to move, although he had no corporeal body, as far as he knew. He floated closer to the sphere, and found it to be enormous. Arbitrarily, he aimed himself for a whitish region of the sphere, on the edge of the largest landmass. He felt extremely peaceful, as he descended through the clouds.

Finally, he found himself floating above an interesting scene. Six figures, far below, trudged through deep...white stuff.

SNOW.

Yes, Jandar knew about snow vaguely. He could now remember his father telling him about the vicious region of Thaelenk, far to the North, where the blizzards were sometimes strong enough to rend flesh from bone, if not protected. This snow, however, did not appear to be quite as fierce.

Jandar focused on the figures moving far below. Floating closer, he was surprised to see that they had no wings. Are they fellkyries? he wondered.

THEY ARE HUMANS.

Humans? What are humans? Wondered Jandar. Are they... aliens? Impossible! But as Jandar floated there, he knew that it was not impossible. Life did exist outside of Valhalla. Most kyries doubted that anything existed outside of Valhalla, much less life. Jandar watched the aliens with increased fascination. Why did they look so much like kyries? What would they do?

"Halt!" yelled the one in the lead. Jandar did not find the fact that he could understand what was being said surprising; on Valhalla, there was only one language. Behind the figure, another figure repeated the command; apparently, the snow was causing communication difficulties, although Jandar could hear everything perfectly clearly. Suddenly, the lead figure seemed very alarmed. "Ambush!" it cried. As the humans drew all sorts of weapons, enemies rose from the snow around them. This angered Jandar. Not only was this attack sneaky and underhanded, the enemy humans outnumbered the poor humans. After watching what were clearly the two leaders exchange for a moment, Jandar knew which side he supported. As the two sides leapt into combat, he wished that he could help the valiant humans who had been ambushed.

YOU CAN.

Jandar wondered how. He did not seem to have any body. But considerations of this nature soon disappeared; as the six human figures leapt at their enemies, the enemy commander issued an order; "Now!" The enemies pulled on cords that Jandar had not previously seen, which caused a wire to spring out of the ground, forming a circle around the valiant warriors. They tripped over the wire, and landed face first in the snow. The enemies laughed, and stabbed down with their weapons, to finish off the brave warriors. At this point, Jandar was seething. He swept a metaphysical hand down out of nowhere, seemingly, intending to swat away the dishonorable attackers. His hand, however, passed right through them without a trace. Instead, his hand caught the warriors and swept them off the battlefield. Suddenly, he felt very tired. He found himself melting away from the scene, his consciousness fading...



Utgar gazed out his window at the courtyard below. Before him, hundred of red, leathery kyrie practiced against sacks, mechanical dummies, and each other. His army was magnificent, and he reveled in the power that he wielded. Although his forces had not left the mountain for two years, Utgar had by no means grown content. Valhalla was, by right, his, after all. He smiled to himself as he plotted scheme after scheme. The council... that was the only real form of organized resistance. Without the council, Utgar would rule Valhalla.

Unfortunately, despite their disunity, the council was still powerful enough to pose a threat to his plans. The strategy with which they commanded their "army" was laughable, yes, but their army was large enough that it did not matter. Until a few years ago, Utgar had managed to do almost whatever he liked, but now almost every tribe was allied against him. Every tribe except the nomadic barbarians that inhabited Nastralund. Nobody actually knew anything about Nastralund, except that it was very big, very dry, and very hot (although the temperatures dropped to freezing in the night). Utgar personally doubted that anybody still survived out there, but there were always occasional tales of desert raiders invading villages along the border, pillaging what ever they could carry, and then vanishing like smoke. No matter. Someday, after the council was dealt with, Utgar would eliminate the desert savages. After that, he would-

A knocking on his door startled him out of his thoughts. Annoyed, he grunted, "Come in."

Two guards entered, holding an emaciated kyrie between them his eyes were sullen, and sunken, and his wings were more brown than red. "Yes?" prompted Utgar.

"Lord Utgar," said one of the guards respectfully, "we caught this kyora stealing from the supply room."

"Then execute him. Why are you wasting my time with this?"

The guard swallowed. "Lord, I would not be, except... he has been stealing from the supplies for the last three months."

This got Utgarís attention. "Really? Why, then, is he so thin?"

"My lord, have you seen the rations lately? We have not had a raid for so long that they are dwindling rather alarmingly. This thief here-" he kicked the thin, gaunt kyrie, "has apparently been taking very few supplies, in an effort to disguise his thievery."

Utgar frowned. "There are two things that I do not understand. First, why are none of my other soldiers like this? To see him, you would think that we had nothing to eat, but I know that the other soldiers are still doing fairly well. Second, how did you find out-" Utgar suddenly noticed the bandages on the hands of the prisoner, and the burn marks on his wings. Interesting, he though. Not many survive past the hands. "Never mind. Just tell me why he is so thin, compared with the others."

"My lord, I do not know. He complains of a bodily disorder of some sort, but we assumed it to be a lie. We brought him to you only because of your decree that prolonged thievery should be dealt with by a personal torture/execution carried out by you, my lord."

"Did I? Oh yes, that is correct. You are dismissed, guards. Leave the prisoner here."

The guards bowed and left the room, looking relieved. Utgar turned to the prisoner. "Well, not many of my kyries could steal from my supply rooms, thief, and even fewer would have the presence of mind to take only what would not be noticed. What is this Ďbodily disorderí that my guard mentioned?"

The kyrie did not blink once, staring into Utgarís eyes as he said, slowly, "I have an abnormally fast metabolism."

Utgar thought about this for a moment. It made sense. If it was true, then it would explain the kyrieís malnourishment. It also suggested a higher level of intelligence; a high metabolism generally caused a kyrieís mind to operate on a higher level. Perhaps that was why this thief had thought to take less than he surely must have desired. That also suggested a strong will. Perfect for a tactician...

"Well?" asked the thief, in a tone that, Utgar marveled, held no trace of fear. "Have you decided how to execute me?"

"What is your name, thief?"

The kyrie suddenly grinned wickedly. "So you plan on making me a strategist?"

Utgar was astonished. That was, in fact, precisely what he had planned. He feigned boredom, however, so that this kyrie would not know how surprised he was. Surprise at anything was a sign of weakness.

"Perhaps. What makes you think that?"

"One; you are bothering to learn my name, and would not care about a doomed kyrieís name, and two, you were just surprised, but did not laugh, showing me that you know that I speak the truth. Three, I can think of nothing that you would spare me for except for promoting me."

Utgar thought for a moment. His army, though well trained, suffered from a lack of good commanders. The outcome of this decision was obvious. "If I do make you a commander, what will you need?"

"Food. I use up food at a much greater rate than any of the other kyries."

Utgar considered. He was low on rations, true, but with a good commander he could easily get more. He should be planning another raid again anyway; the soldiers were getting restless. Perhaps he could find some isolated village, where the council could not respond in time... yes, that made sense.

"What is your name, thief?"

The thief grinned. "Taelord, Lord Utgar."

"Well, General Taelord, we must erase your past and think of a suitable story of bravery for you first. I doubt many of my warriors would follow a lowly thief into battle."

"Thank you, my lord. But first... may I have some food? My stomach grumbles horrendously.

Utgar could tell that Taelord would be an excellent commander. He was, however, beginning to wonder just how much his service would cost his supplies.



Jandar opened his eyes blearily. He found himself leaning against a wooden tree in a clearing... he was back on Valhalla! Blinking, his vision cleared. He looked around, and then nearly jumped in surprise. Sitting on the ground, by the pool, in the middle of the clearing were...

...the humans!
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  #2  
Old March 13th, 2008, 10:43 PM
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nice
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  #3  
Old March 17th, 2008, 10:15 PM
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Re: The Heroscape Chronicles: Chapter 1

Great To see this reposted Agatagary

"The fact is that a man who wants to act virtuously in every way necessarily comes to grief among so many who are not virtuous."- Niccolo Machiavelli


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Old March 17th, 2008, 11:36 PM
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Agatagary Agatagary is offline
 
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Fallen Templar!

If I remember correctly, it was you that collected the initial Heroscape Chronicles into a single thread, correct?

I am glad that you are still here. I have been feeling more and more as though people here are not interested in my work. Should I continue writing this with what time I have, or is this a futile exercise? I have the plot mapped out--it will just take time to type it up. What do you think?
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Old March 18th, 2008, 12:26 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Agatagary
Fallen Templar!

If I remember correctly, it was you that collected the initial Heroscape Chronicles into a single thread, correct?

I am glad that you are still here. I have been feeling more and more as though people here are not interested in my work. Should I continue writing this with what time I have, or is this a futile exercise? I have the plot mapped out--it will just take time to type it up. What do you think?

The moment you start writing for "other people" is the moment you should stop writing.
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Old March 18th, 2008, 06:16 PM
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Agatagary Agatagary is offline
 
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Oh, I do not write completely for other people. I enjoy getting the story down in type, because I enjoy reading. As far as writing fiction goes, however, I have other stories to write. The advantage to writing fan fiction here is that of getting feedback, and appreciation, while other stories simply sit around on my hard drive.

Therefore, if there is no feedback, then I might as well concentrate my energies on other things.
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Old March 18th, 2008, 09:45 PM
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Fallen Templar Fallen Templar is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Agatagary
Fallen Templar!

If I remember correctly, it was you that collected the initial Heroscape Chronicles into a single thread, correct?

I am glad that you are still here. I have been feeling more and more as though people here are not interested in my work. Should I continue writing this with what time I have, or is this a futile exercise? I have the plot mapped out--it will just take time to type it up. What do you think?
I think you should continue it's great stuff

"The fact is that a man who wants to act virtuously in every way necessarily comes to grief among so many who are not virtuous."- Niccolo Machiavelli


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Old March 18th, 2008, 09:55 PM
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Originally Posted by Agatagary
Oh, I do not write completely for other people. I enjoy getting the story down in type, because I enjoy reading. As far as writing fiction goes, however, I have other stories to write. The advantage to writing fan fiction here is that of getting feedback, and appreciation, while other stories simply sit around on my hard drive.

Therefore, if there is no feedback, then I might as well concentrate my energies on other things.

I have to be honest ...I don't read it...but then again I do not read most of the fan-fiction...but I do see people giving great feedback elsewhere and I really do not see why...I think a better indicator would be to keep track of the views your thread gets and that is probably a better indicator if people are enjoying it or not.
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