Prolonged Retribution: The Rise of the Drocks - WritingForums.com - Writing Forums, Writing Challenges, Critiques and Help for Writers

Gabriel Gray · 11-04-2008, 04:04 PM

Posting here and not in fiction section because i want this to be the first page or two in my book. I can sense a lot of things wrong with it, not just grammatically but the grabbing of attention seems lacking. If I could get critique on my work and also the actual story i would appreciate it. Also actual advice on when writing, what to check and what to do regularly. THANK YOU IN ADVANCE

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Prolonged Retribution: The Rise of the Drocks

Darkness crept slowly upon the remaining day, owls gave constant hoots which replaced the singing of the birds and the barking of dogs was silenced with the far off howling of the wolves. The sky seemed a murky blue, illuminated still with glow of the semi-crescent moon. There were people slowly staggering from the exits of the three taverns that were located to the furthest reaches of Southern Suran, sounds of the people laughing merrily echoed through the slums, whilst several faces scowled out of their windows into nothingness. The furthest South of the three Taverns was named ‘The Maidens Den’. This was down to the Den being the only Inn out of the three that Surane women would spend a night in. The other two Taverns ‘The Drunken Sailor’ and ‘Keri’s Demise’ were the casual homes of drunken brutes and sexually deprived sailors. Much to the women of Suran’s dismay, ‘The Maidens Den’ had been closed for the last seven moon-cycles out of the twelve this season. It was burnt down by a group of bandits who had been refused entry to the Den due to the excess of arms they bore. ‘The Maidens Den’ was owned by a very strict little old man by the name of Nerian Herui’th, who had reputedly lived in Suran longer than anybody else could remember.

Though elderly and somewhat bitter, he had managed to keep the Tavern running successfully and much of that was down to his assistant. His name was Riocht Nyvern, who had come to live with Nerian when he was no older than five seasons of age. Nerian had been told by the Healing Maidens that his parents had both died tragically in a forest fire and that he had been sent to the Healing Maidens to be brought up as a healer. He apparently lacked what they called the ‘Innate gift’ and was sent towards an orphanage in Olave, yet something had happened on his journey to deter his destination. Nerian had claimed ignorance to why he had been left in Suran of all places, but he was left in Suran with nobody to look after him. Nerian had at the time just lost his wife and son to the Bluefrost, so seeing the orphaned boy alone in the Surane Slums made his heart warm towards the boy’s situation as he took him under his wing legally as a trainee.

Many seasons later, Riocht Nyvern had grown to be a loyal and hardworking assistant and unknown to his guardian, an extremely talented swordsman. He was most unlike the other young men in Suran, his skin somewhat darker and his tar-black hair long and straight. Every other person within Suran and even throughout Jordan had brownish hair which always seemed to curl whenever grown. He was also on average half a foot taller than the other men in the city, yet strangely not as stocky in build. It was whispered by some that he had come from the East yet Nerian always snapped at whoever said so and called it ‘nonsense’.

Riocht spent a majority of his time preparing the Tavern for opening and secretly training with the Jordane Blades. Ever since his eighteenth season of age, he had been in training with the Blades. They insisted that they only took people after their twenty-third season, a coming of age for men in Jordan. He was only a season away from his enlisting into the Blades, the four seasons of training had surprised not only Riocht but also the Blades’ Commander. The Commander was a Sword-master and took it upon himself to guide the training of Riocht, especially after seeing the potential the boy had shown in his first season of training.

Trying his best to balance the two kegs on each shoulder, Riocht couldn’t help but play out in his mind the strategy he was supposed to use tonight when Commander O’Brea was to fight him. O’Brea had told him to study the ‘Rotherian Parry’, a move which was implemented in a Southern country called Rothen. Trotting slowly towards the Den, he tried to push the ‘Rotherian Parry’ to the back of his mind. He had wanted to join the Jordane Blades for several reasons, yet the clearest was so he could leave Suran and then eventually Jordan.

He often dreamt of the lands to the East, outside of the small city of Suran and the country Jordan. Also to the West held great interest to him, he had poured over many maps throughout his short life and found Loriea to be perhaps the most appealing. Stories of creatures he couldn’t even imagine and people fighting others with weapons which boggled at his mind. He admitted that he was perhaps a fantasist, knowing that a majority of the stories he had read were meant as fiction. Yet Nerian always said ‘Where there be a myth, there be some truth’ and that kept Riocht’s dreams alive.

Using his foot to pry open the door, Riocht gave a slight nod towards the last few customers who were deeply concentrating on their last ale. Nerian came up from the cellar just as Riocht was about to go down and gave a bark of laughter
“You scared me to the soul, boy. Thought you was something else.” He gave Riocht a sly wink when saying ‘something’ rather than ‘someone’ and it brought a somewhat confused smile onto Riocht’s face. He wasn’t sure whether the old man had just humoured him for too long, or whether he genuinely thought that meeting ‘something’ all the way in Southern Suran was a possibility. Making his way down the creaking stairs, he pondered over the creatures that were supposedly out there in the world.

The first was the Drock, a creature which many in Jordan hadn’t actually seen yet was widely known as a species in itself. Much like humans, yet their skin a dark silvery colour and their height over a foot taller than man. He had read about the discovery of these creatures in ‘The Twin Isles’, a book which was authored by Nyle Berien, one of Jordan’s most prolific adventurers of the past. Another was a creature found only in Phandir, called a Nightglider, fierce black beasts the size of half a dozen cattle put together. They are known for their wings which span over eight foot apiece and for their unusual bond with the Drocks, allegedly allowing them to ride the skies with them. The third creature that most interested Riocht was a beast which had the appearance of a mountain lion except it’s fangs are extremely longer and they double the average size of the lions. They were called Harriers and were found in the other ‘Twin Isle’ Porandor. It is said that Harriers are in behaviour like that of a dog or horse, easy enough to tame and loyal to the end. They are believed to be slower than horses, yet extremely deadly seeing as Harriers are weapons within themselves.

“Quit your day-dozing, boy. I don’t pay you to stand still whilst my good patrons go thirsty.” Nerian had yelled down the stairs, somewhat snapping Riocht out of his thoughts. Putting the two barrels down, which had started to somewhat strain his back, Riocht gave a wry smile and retorted
“Firstly, to be day-dozing it would have to be day dearest Nerian.” He heard him snort “And secondly, you don’t even pay me.” With that they both broke into an unsteady laugh, the banter was one of the things Riocht Nyvern would miss when he was gone.

Sam Winchester · 11-04-2008, 06:46 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Gabriel Gray

Prolonged Retribution: The Rise of the Drocks

Darkness crept slowly upon the remaining day, owls gave constant hoots which replaced the singing of the birds and the barking of dogs was silenced with the far off howling of the wolves.

" ... gave constant hoots which replaced the singing of the birds, and the barking of ..."

The comma after "birds" is very important here, Gabriel. Otherwise, it reads "owls gave constant hoots which replaced the singing of the birds and the barking of the dogs ..." So, this reads like the hoots are replacing both the singing of the birds and the barking of the dogs.

Quote:

The sky seemed a murky blue, illuminated still with glow of the semi-crescent moon. There were people slowly staggering from the exits of the three taverns that were located to the furthest reaches of Southern Suran, sounds of the people laughing merrily echoed through the slums, whilst several faces scowled out of their windows into nothingness.

"... Southern Suran. Sounds of people ..."

Quote:

The furthest South of the three Taverns was named ‘The Maidens Den’. This was down to the Den being the only Inn out of the three that Surane women would spend a night in. The other two Taverns ‘The Drunken Sailor’ and ‘Keri’s Demise’ were the casual homes of drunken brutes and sexually deprived sailors. Much to the women of Suran’s dismay, ‘The Maidens Den’ had been closed for the last seven moon-cycles out of the twelve this season. It was burnt down by a group of bandits who had been refused entry to the Den due to the excess of arms they bore. ‘The Maidens Den’ was owned by a very strict little old man by the name of Nerian Herui’th, who had reputedly lived in Suran longer than anybody else could remember.

A lot of telling here, but I'm guessing that's the style.

Quote:

Though elderly and somewhat bitter, he had managed to keep the Tavern running successfully and much of that was down to his assistant. His name was Riocht Nyvern, who had come to live with Nerian when he was no older than five seasons of age. Nerian had been told by the Healing Maidens that his parents had both died tragically in a forest fire and that he had been sent to the Healing Maidens to be brought up as a healer. He apparently lacked what they called the ‘Innate gift’ and was sent towards an orphanage in Olave, yet something had happened on his journey to deter his destination.

"... 'Innate gift' and was sent towards an orphange in Olave; yet something ..."

Quote:

Nerian had claimed ignorance to why he had been left in Suran of all places, but he was left in Suran with nobody to look after him. Nerian had at the time just lost his wife and son to the Bluefrost, so seeing the orphaned boy alone in the Surane Slums made his heart warm towards the boy’s situation as he took him under his wing legally as a trainee.

Omit this second "Suran".

Quote:

Many seasons later, Riocht Nyvern had grown to be a loyal and hardworking assistant and unknown to his guardian, an extremely talented swordsman.

"... and hardworking assistant, and, unkown to his guardian ..."

Quote:

He was most unlike the other young men in Suran, his skin somewhat darker and his tar-black hair long and straight. Every other person within Suran and even throughout Jordan had brownish hair which always seemed to curl whenever grown.

Quote:

He was also on average half a foot taller than the other men in the city, yet strangely not as stocky in build. It was whispered by some that he had come from the East yet Nerian always snapped at whoever said so and called it ‘nonsense’.

"He was also, on average, a half a ..."

Quote:

Riocht spent a majority of his time preparing the Tavern for opening and secretly training with the Jordane Blades. Ever since his eighteenth season of age, he had been in training with the Blades. They insisted that they only took people after their twenty-third season, a coming of age for men in Jordan. He was only a season away from his enlisting into the Blades, the four seasons of training had surprised not only Riocht but also the Blades’ Commander. The Commander was a Sword-master and took it upon himself to guide the training of Riocht, especially after seeing the potential the boy had shown in his first season of training.

sword-master.

Quote:

Trying his best to balance the two kegs on each shoulder, Riocht couldn’t help but play out in his mind the strategy he was supposed to use tonight when Commander O’Brea was to fight him. O’Brea had told him to study the ‘Rotherian Parry’, a move which was implemented in a Southern country called Rothen. Trotting slowly towards the Den, he tried to push the ‘Rotherian Parry’ to the back of his mind. He had wanted to join the Jordane Blades for several reasons, yet the clearest was so he could leave Suran and then eventually Jordan.

Quote:

He often dreamt of the lands to the East, outside of the small city of Suran and the country Jordan. Also to the West held great interest to him, he had poured over many maps throughout his short life and found Loriea to be perhaps the most appealing.

"Also to the west held great interest to him; he had ..."

Quote:

Stories of creatures he couldn’t even imagine and people fighting others with weapons which boggled at his mind. He admitted that he was perhaps a fantasist, knowing that a majority of the stories he had read were meant as fiction. Yet Nerian always said ‘Where there be a myth, there be some truth’ and that kept Riocht’s dreams alive.

Quote:

Using his foot to pry open the door, Riocht gave a slight nod towards the last few customers who were deeply concentrating on their last ale. Nerian came up from the cellar just as Riocht was about to go down and gave a bark of laughter.
“You scared me to the soul, boy. Thought you was something else.” He gave Riocht a sly wink when saying ‘something’ rather than ‘someone’ and it brought a somewhat confused smile onto Riocht’s face. He wasn’t sure whether the old man had just humoured him for too long, or whether he genuinely thought that meeting ‘something’ all the way in Southern Suran was a possibility. Making his way down the creaking stairs, he pondered over the creatures that were supposedly out there in the world.

The first was the Drock, a creature which many in Jordan hadn’t actually seen yet was widely known as a species in itself. Much like humans, yet their skin a dark silvery colour and their height over a foot taller than man. He had read about the discovery of these creatures in ‘The Twin Isles’, a book which was authored by Nyle Berien, one of Jordan’s most prolific adventurers of the past. Another was a creature found only in Phandir, called a Nightglider, fierce black beasts the size of half a dozen cattle put together. They were known for their wings which span over eight foot apiece and for their unusual bond with the Drocks, allegedly allowing them to ride the skies with them. The third creature that most interested Riocht was a beast which had the appearance of a mountain lion except it’s fangs are extremely longer and they double the average size of the lions. They were called Harriers and were found in the other ‘Twin Isle’ Porandor. It is said that Harriers are in behaviour like that of a dog or horse, easy enough to tame and loyal to the end. They are believed to be slower than horses, yet extremely deadly seeing as Harriers are weapons within themselves.

"It's fangs."

Its.

Careful of changing tense here, too.

Quote:

“Quit your day-dozing, boy. I don’t pay you to stand still whilst my good patrons go thirsty.” Nerian had yelled down the stairs, somewhat snapping Riocht out of his thoughts. Putting the two barrels down, which had started to somewhat strain his back, Riocht gave a wry smile and retorted

Quote:

“Firstly, to be day-dozing it would have to be day dearest Nerian.” He heard him snort “And secondly, you don’t even pay me.” With that they both broke into an unsteady laugh, the banter was one of the things Riocht Nyvern would miss when he was gone.

"... unstead laugh; the banter ..."

*

The writing's good, Gabriel, but there's a lot of telling here and a lot of info dumps. You might be better served breaking the descriptive scenes with a little bit of action or something to grab the reader's attention.

Gabriel Gray · 11-05-2008, 02:40 AM

Well, thankyou! I couldn't believe how much trouble i had starting this off. I've ammended the changes, also i might remove the info about the inns and the burning (seems a tad unnecerssary). The first time i worked this i had an action scene first page, but i think i'm going to risk it and wait another few pages until a fight scene. Another bit i'm worried about (infodump) is when he is 'day-dozing' about the different types of creatures. Too much? Thanks alot for the time and effort, truly appreciated.

Ilasir Maroa · 11-05-2008, 09:45 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Gabriel Gray

Prolonged Retribution: The Rise of the Drocks

Darkness crept slowly upon the remaining day, owls gave constant hoots which replaced the singing of the birds and the barking of dogs was silenced with the far off howling of the wolves. The sky seemed"seemed" or "is" a murky blue, illuminated stillI'm not sure "still" is the right word here... forgive me for nitpicking, but I'm using this as a representative of something that seems common in your style, which is to say unecessary things... basically, things that are already implied by the writing. Of course, I'm not you, so you may feel this is an important part of your voice or style, and I can respect that. with glow of the semi-crescent moon. There were people slowly staggering from the exits of the three taverns that were located to"on" or "in" the furthest reaches of Southern Suranis there a need to capitalize "Southern"?, sounds of the people laughing merrily echoed through the slums, whilst several faces scowled out of their windows into nothingness.Is this omniscent voice? The furthest Southagain, not sure on the capitalizing of the three Tavernsditto was named ‘The Maidens Den’. This was down to the Den being the only Inn out of the three that Surane women would spend a night in. The other two Taverns ‘The Drunken Sailor’ and ‘Keri’s Demise’ were the casual homes of drunken brutes and sexually deprived sailors. Much to the women of Suran’s dismay, ‘The Maidens Den’ had been closed for the last seven moon-cyclesjust call it a month, we're translating anyway out of the twelve this season. It was burnt down by a group of bandits who had been refused entry to the Den due to the excess of arms they bore.but not entrance to the town? ‘The Maidens Den’ was owned by a very strict little old man by the name of Nerian Herui’thrandom apostraphe... or at least an odd place for a glottal stop, who had reputedly lived in Suran longer than anybody else could remember.

Though elderly and somewhat bitter, he had managed to keep the Tavern running successfully and much of that was down to his assistant. His name was Riocht Nyvern, who had come to live with Nerian when he was no older than five seasonsI'm still not sure what a "season" is, but it does sound awfully like a "year" of age. Nerian had been told by the Healing Maidensa bit of a cliche... and why is a man becoming a Healing Maiden? that his parents had both died tragically in a forest fire and that he had been sent to the Healing Maidens to be brought up as a healer. He apparently lacked what they called the ‘Innate gift’shouldn't they have tested him first? and was sent towards an orphanage in Olave, yet something had happened on his journey to deter his destination"him from". Nerian had claimed ignorance to why he had been left in Suran of all places, but he was left in Suran with nobody to look after him. Nerian had at the time just lost his wife and son to the Bluefrost, so seeing the orphaned boy alone in the Surane Slums made his heart warm towards the boy’s situation as he took him under his wing legally as a trainee.

Many seasons later, Riocht Nyvern had grown to be a loyal and hardworking assistant and unknown to his guardian, an extremely talented swordsman. He was most unlike the other young men in Suran, his skin somewhat darker and his tar-black hair long and straight. Every other person within Suran and even throughout Jordan had brownish hair which always seemed to curl whenever grown. He was also on average half a foot taller than the other men in the city, yet strangely not as stocky in build. It was whispered by some that he had come from the East yet Nerian always snapped at whoever said so and called it ‘nonsense’. Immense infodump here.

Riocht spent a majority of his time preparing the Tavern for opening and secretly training with the Jordane Blades. Ever since his eighteenth season of age, he had been in training with the Blades.I always think Elder Scrolls when I see Blades, but I'm only mentioning it as a possible turn-off. They insisted that they only took people after their twenty-third season, a coming of age for men in Jordan. He was only a season away from his enlisting into the Blades, the four seasons of training had surprised not only Riocht but also the Blades’ Commander. The Commander was a Sword-master and took it upon himself to guide the training of Riocht, especially after seeing the potential the boy had shown in his first season of training.

Trying his best to balance the two kegs on each shoulder, Riocht couldn’t help but play out in his mind the strategy he was supposed to use tonight when Commander O’Brea was to fight him. O’Brea had told him to study the ‘Rotherian Parry’, a move which was implemented in a Southern country called Rothen. Trotting slowly towards the Den, he tried to push the ‘Rotherian Parry’I note the use of two different plurals... is the "Rotherian Parry" called that in Rotherian, or Jordane, or has the plural been adopted whole? to the back of his mind. He had wanted to join the Jordane Blades for several reasons, yet the clearest was so he could leave Suran and then eventually Jordan.

He often dreamt of the lands to the East, outside of the small city of Suran and the country Jordan. Also tomaybe drop "to"? the West held great interest to him, he had poured over many maps throughout his short life and found Loriea to be perhaps the most appealing. Stories of creatures he couldn’t even imagine and people fighting others with weapons which boggled at his mind. He admitted that he was perhaps a fantasist, knowing that a majority of the stories he had read were meant as fiction. Yet Nerian always said ‘Where there be a myth, there be some truth’ and that kept Riocht’s dreams alive.

Using his foot to pry open the door, Riocht gave a slight nod towards the last few customers who were deeply concentrating on their last ale.I'm not sure deeply is normally used in that way, but the real question is what the point of nodding is, if these people are so engrossed? Nerian came up from the cellar just as Riocht was about to go down and gave a bark of laughter
“You scared me to the soul, boy. Thought you was something else.” He gave Riocht a sly wink when saying ‘something’ rather than ‘someone’ and it brought a somewhat confused smile onto Riocht’s face. He wasn’t sure whether the old man had just humoured him for too long, or whether he genuinely thought that meeting ‘something’ all the way in Southern Suran was a possibility. Making his way down the creaking stairs, he pondered over the creatures that were supposedly out there in the world.

The first was the Drock, a creature which many in Jordan hadn’t actually seen yet was widely known as a species in itself. Much like humans, yet their skin a dark silvery colour and their height over a foot taller than man. He had read about the discovery of these creatures in ‘The Twin Isles’, a book which was authored by Nyle Berien, one of Jordan’s most prolific adventurers of the past. Another was a creature found only in Phandir, called a Nightglider, fierce black beasts the size of half a dozen cattle put together. They are known for their wings which span over eight foot apiecethese wngs are much to small to lift such a large creature, I think. and for their unusual bond with the Drocks, allegedly allowing them to ride the skies with them. The third creature that most interested Riocht was a beast which had the appearance of a mountain lion except it’s fangs are extremelyyou can't modify the comparative with "extremely" longer and they double the average size of the lions. They were called Harriers and were found in the other ‘Twin Isle’ Porandor. It is said that Harriers are in behaviour like that of a dog or horse, easy enough to tame and loyal to the end. They are believed to be slower than horses, yet extremely deadlyoh? seeing as Harriers are weapons within themselves.More info-dumping, and I'm wondering where the boy learned to read...

“Quit your day-dozingwhy not just "day-dreaming" since "dreaming" and "dozing" are not the same thing., boy. I don’t pay you to stand still whilst my good patrons go thirsty.” Nerian hadwhy so much in the past perfect tense? yelled down the stairs, somewhat snappingthis seems a clumsy description, though I think I do get the idea. Riocht out of his thoughts. Putting the two barrels down, which had started to somewhata common word here, it seems strain his back, Riocht gave a wry smile and retorted
“Firstly, to be day-dozing it would have to be day dearest Nerian.” He heard himUse the name to avoid confusion snort “And secondly, you don’t even pay me.” With that they both broke into an unsteady laugh, the banter was one of the things Riocht Nyvern would miss when he was gone.

It seemed like the previous poster noted a lot of punctuation, so I left that to him. I've tried to note specific areas where there are info-dumps, and noted a few spots where the phrasing confused me a little, or seemed like it wasn't as compact as it could be. Finally, I must note the use of several fantasy conventions, which while not necessarily bad, did jump out at me, especially with so little knowledge of their use throughout the story. But then, you could pull quite a turn-around later in the story, so don't pay too much attention to that.