The Quest: Part I

Every hero needs a challenge. Every runner needs a road. Today, let's talk about choosing a quest for your protagonist!

In the last post, I introduced two characters, Makos and Danos. These brothers have very different opinions and judge the world around them in different ways. Potential waiting to be released. How do we release it? Did you say throw in some conflict? I'm pretty sure you did, and you are correct.

Conflict by itself is great, bringing up concerns and making protagonists uncomfortable, but a lot of conflict can be overcome quickly and with ease. To spice things up and keep things interesting for a long journey, we need a main problem. This problem will offer our heroes a chance to decide what they are going to do about it. How will they react?

Let's review the brothers, shall we? Danos is a young man, the older brother by a few years. He is maturing and is realizing how much his father sacrifices for their family. He takes his duties seriously and puts work before play.

Makos is younger than Danos. He loves his family, but his older brother, Danos, hasn't played with him for a while, and Makos is all about goofing off and doing exciting things. A kind-hearted kid, he still suffers from a lack of experience and often upsets people with his rambunctiousness.

What sort of conflict can we bring about that will turn these brothers' world upside down? We might as well be efficient here and choose one problem that will put both in a bind. Let's get rid of their mother. We can say she died at some point, putting an extra workload on the father, thus inspiring Danos to want to help out as much as he can and put his own childhood behind him.

Makos, on the other hand, will miss his mother especially. We'll say he was six years old when she passed away from illness. No need for feelings of revenge to taint things yet, but plenty of sadness at the loss. The lack of mom leaves him missing out on all of the love and attention she gave him. He tries to make up for this by being a clown. If he can get others to notice him and think he is funny, his loss doesn't hurt so much.

A sad story, isn't it? Let's be really mean and nix the father, too. Why? Haven't we done enough to hurt the poor little guys? Maybe, but there is nothing they can do about it but grieve, and the majority of that ended years ago. They have a life again, however sad. If we want to introduce some interesting growth, let's say their father is abducted. The next step? Time to be nice by giving a lead to where they can find him.

Before explaining the rest of their ordeal, please enjoy part one of the opening scene:

The night was dark, like most nights, really. Nobody ever came to threaten the Highwhistle property, certainly not after most people had gone to bed. Yet that is exactly what happened this night.

Makos laid in his bed, listening. The walls weren't especially thick, and his bed was right alongside the wall that separated the bedroom from the entryway of the humble house. If he held his head a few inches above the nightstand and angled his ear just right, voices became interpretable if you filled in the odd word here and there.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop." His brother said, startling him.

Makos turned his head away and looked up at his brother who was peeking down from the top bunk, and replied, "Don't scare me like that!" He whispered in a hiss.

Danos scowled back. "If you weren't eavesdropping, it wouldn't have been scary."

Makos stuck out his tongue. "You're no fun. I'm not eavesdropping, anyway. I'm listening to what father is saying to the grumpy man." He turned his ear back to the wall and resumed his listening.

"That's the definition of eavesdropping."

Makos ignored his brother mostly, muttering something like 'I'll defnishun you.'

A few seconds after he made out what sounded like an argument about payments and time, Danos interrupted him again. "Father won't like you eavesdropping when you aren't invited."

Makos spun around and stuck his tongue out even farther this time, making sure to flare his nostrils. It was the ultimate tongue-face. He had invented it himself last week.

The tongue-face was wasted on empty air. Makos glared up at the bed above him. "Aren't you curious about payments and time?" He asked, huffing.

A curiously long moment of silence was finally broken by a quiet response, "No."

"Sure you aren't." Makos agreed, putting extra emphasis on the word 'sure.' He then hurried back to the wall.

The mumbling had stopped while he was distracted. The creaking sound was the front door opening. Some short, unrecognizable words rose in volume until he could make out 'free days!' The door slammed shut and Makos listened just a moment or two longer. A shuffling of feet and squeaking of floorboards trailed around the wall and up the stairs behind the wall near Makos' feet.

The steps groaned under his father's climbing one at a time. Makos had learned that his father always paused partway up the staircase. He had noticed that if the pause came before the sixth step, he father would try to hide feelings of disappointment or sadness that next morning, the sooner the pause, the worse he would hide it.

One, two. Pause.

'Oh no.' Makos thought. 'It's a bad one.'

Three, four. Pause.

'A second pause?' Makos worried. 'He must be feeling really horrible.'

Five. Pause.

Makos' jaw dropped.

Six, seven, eight. A moment longer of hesitation before the door to the upstairs bedroom creaked open and then closed softly.

Check back tomorrow for part two and the rest of the details!