The Rivyan Chronicles - The Miracle Maker - Prologue - WritingForums.com - Writing Forums, Writing Challenges, Critiques and Help for Writers

Jack Wyvern · 07-09-2004, 11:32 PM

Here is what I hope to someday be the prologue of my story, The Miracle Maker. It will hopefully be the first book of a series called The Rivyan Chronicles. Please be brutal.

The cottage was too dark and quiet. The familiar smell of green berrel and fraven meat cooking in the pot over a crackling fire didn't meet her as she left the darkening wood. The sound of her older brothers playing knights and goblins were silenced. Nothing moved and the thick glass of the cottage windows were dark. Amari was scared. Her heart raced with each careful step she took toward her home. Frontier children were taught young to be quiet when things didn't look right. Her eight winters in these woods had made her cautious of every misplaced stone and blade of grass.

The door of the her stone house swung quietly on its flatiron hinges. The darkness inside beckoned her to run. Where was her family? Her brothers? Her father and mother? Why did they leave her?

She pushed the door open gently, her ears strained to hear every sound and know exactly what it was. The leaf-striders chirping in the grassy meadow behind her was deafening in the still quiet of the cottage. Smoke drifted past her nose. She could smell the remains of her mother's cooking fire. The chirping striders were being replaced by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She stepped into the dark room where her father and mother should be.

Her foot slid on something wet. She dropped to her knee and scrambled to regain her feet. Thrashing around in the slippery darkness, she felt something soft and warm. A familiar smell of her father's long-leaf tobacco mixed with something else. Something bad.

"Amari?" asked a raspy voice next to her.

"Father? What--"

"Run! Run my child!"

Her father's words struck her with a paralyzing fear. She grabbed his face in her tiny hands and cried. "What happened? Where's mom?" Her hands felt the blood streaming down his cheeks. She knew what that smell was, and what had covered the floor. "No father! No!"

From behind her in the doorway, a silhouette defined by the rising moonlight laughed. "Hello pretty."

Amari screamed. She shot forward clearing the still form of her father and crashed into the table. Dazed, she rolled over as large hands grabbed her fraven-skin tunic. "Your mother wasn't much of a prize, but you pretty. You will make the boys very happy."

The putrid stench of his breath mixed with the carnal smells of his half naked body made Amari wretch.

He laughed, lifting her high into the air and slamming her down on the table. Ripping away her tunic, he rubbed her soft flesh. She heard him sigh as his hot breath blew across her. "The first. Ain't I the lucky one, pretty?"

Amari tried to fight him, but his weight pressed against her pinning her to the smooth surface of the table.

She closed her eyes and screamed into the darkness.

Suddenly, she felt something hit the man hard. He grunted and slid off of her.

"Come child. Quickly!" The aged voice awoke her from the nightmare. Opening her eyes, she saw an old man staring at the brigand sprawled out across the floor. He held a gnarled staff in his hand that glowed with a bright white light. She sat up and his eyes met hers. "Poor dear. You are safe, now. I promise you. Let us go."

Stunned, Amari hopped off the table and followed the old man out the door and into the night without a sound. He moved with a quickness she was unaccustomed to in the few old people she had known.

Reaching the top of a hill, the old man stopped short. Amari stood beside him, unsure of anything. He placed his hand tenderly on her shoulder and pointed down the hillside to the treeline. In the bright moonlight, Amari could make out a small encampment below them at the bottom of the hill. The distant sounds of men laughing drifted up to her. She shuddered.

"My name is Ayrelath Meylan. If you have no one else, I will look after you if you wish. Those men killed your family, and I will let you choose what happens to them this night."

Amari was confused. Her father had never given her a choice before. Why did this man care what she wanted?

Pointing back the way the had come, he said, "my horse awaits us back that way. We can leave now and I will take you to safety."

Amari looked back down the hill and tears welled up in her bright blue eyes.

The old man paused for a moment, then sighed as he turned to face the camp where the brigands were still drinking and bragging about the family they had just slaughtered. He motioned toward them. "Or, we can deal with these men and make sure they never hurt anyone again."

Amari stared at the small fires burning just inside the trees. Her anger grew as she watched them revel in the death of her loved ones. She breathed out slowly. "Kill them. Kill them all."

Thanks for reading.

Nazareth · 07-10-2004, 12:49 AM

will read more tomorrow- looks interesting- lots of action and suspense so far- definate good hook- noticed a few small errors- will point em out tomorrow

Creative_Insanity · 07-10-2004, 12:49 AM

Aw, darn. . . you said "please be brutal" but I found nothing wrong with it. It read very quickly; I felt like I finished in a blink after I started. Very involving from the first sentence.

Emma LB · 07-10-2004, 01:29 PM

I couldn't find anything to 'be brutal about' either, sorry

.

Nazareth · 07-10-2004, 11:16 PM

the few corrections will be bold

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jack Wyvern

The cottage was too dark and too quiet. The familiar smell of green berrel and fraven meat cooking in the pot over a crackling fire didn't meet her as she left the darkening wood. The sound of her older brothers playing knights and goblins were was-unless you change sound to sounds silenced. Nothing moved and the thick glass of the cottage windows were dark. Amari was scared. Her heart raced with each careful step she took toward her home. Frontier children were taught young to be quiet when things didn't look right. Her eight winters in these woods had made her cautious of every misplaced stone and blade of grass.

The door of the her stone house swung quietly on its flatiron hinges. The darkness inside beckoned perhaps warned her to run- beckoned implies calling her onward her to run. Where was her family? Her brothers? Her father and mother? Why did they leave her?

She pushed the door open gently, her ears strained to hear every sound and know exactly what it was. The leaf-striders chirping in the grassy meadow behind her was deafening in the still quiet of the cottage. Smoke drifted past her nose. She could smell the remains of her mother's cooking fire. The chirping striders were being replaced by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She stepped into the dark room where her father and mother should be, should be all one paragraph me thinks? and her foot slid on something wet. She dropped to her knee and scrambled to regain her feet. Thrashing around in the slippery darkness, she felt something soft and warm. A familiar smell of her father's long-leaf tobacco mixed with something else. Something bad.

"Amari?" asked a raspy voice next to her.

"Father? What--"

"Run! Run my child!"

Her father's words struck her with a paralyzing fear. She grabbed his face in her tiny hands and cried. "What happened? Where's mom?" Her hands felt the blood streaming down his cheeks. She knew what that smell was, and what had covered the floor. "No father! No!"

From behind her in the doorway, a silhouette defined by the rising moonlight laughed. "Hello pretty."

Amari screamed. She shot forward clearing the still form of her father and crashed into the table. Dazed, she rolled over as large hands grabbed her fraven-skin tunic. "Your mother wasn't much of a prize, but you pretty -- you will make the boys very happy."

The putrid stench of his breath mixed with the carnal smells of his half naked body made Amari wretch.

He laughed, lifting her high into the air and slamming her down on the table. Ripping away her tunic, he rubbed her soft flesh. She heard him sigh as his hot breath blew across her. "The first. Ain't I the lucky one, pretty?"

Amari tried to fight him, but his weight pressed against her pinning her to the smooth surface of the table.

She closed her eyes and screamed into the darkness.

Suddenly, she felt something hit the man hard. He grunted and slid off of her.

"Come child. Quickly!" The aged voice awoke snapped or wrenched instead of awoke- more dynamic her from the nightmare. Opening her eyes, she saw an old man staring at the brigand sprawled out across the floor. He held a gnarled staff in his hand that glowed with a bright white light. She sat up and his eyes met hers. "Poor dear. You are safe, now -- I promise you. Let us go."

Stunned, Amari hopped off the table and followed the old man out the door and into the night without a sound. He moved with a quickness she was unaccustomed to in the few old people she had known.

The two didn't check on the father? or tie the incapacitated bad dude up? Did the father die as Amari was talking to him?

Reaching the top of a hill, the old man stopped short. Amari stood beside him, unsure of anything. He placed his hand tenderly on her shoulder and pointed down the hillside to the treeline. In the bright moonlight, Amari could make out a small encampment below them at the bottom of the hill. The distant sounds of men laughing drifted up to her. She shuddered.

"My name is Ayrelath Meylan. If you have no one else, I will look after you if you wish. Those men killed your family, and I will let you choose what happens to them this night."

Amari was confused. Her father had never given her a choice before. Why did this man care what she wanted?

Pointing back the way the had come, he said, "my horse awaits us back that way. We can leave now and I will take you to safety."

Amari looked back down the hill and tears welled up in her bright blue eyes.

The old man paused for a moment, then sighed as he turned to face the camp where the brigands were still drinking and bragging about the family they had just slaughtered. He motioned toward them. "Or, we can deal with these men and make sure they never hurt anyone again."

Amari stared at the small fires burning just inside the trees. Her anger grew as she watched them revel in the death of her loved ones. She breathed out slowly. "Kill them. Kill them all."

Thanks for reading.

You use alot of short sentences, try to combine them- people like things written in three's- it just reads smoother