Isla Perdidas- first chapter - Writers Forum

Banzai · 07-29-2006, 06:32 AM

The white marble floor of the expansive hall gave off a soft, warm, golden glow, as the sunlight fell in shafts from the great crystal windows high above. The hall was filled with people, hurriedly crossing the polished ground, their white robes fluttering wildly in their haste; and in the air hung the murmur of enlightened conversation. No banners adorned the walls, though the walls seemed alive with images of grand stories and legends; heroes bursting forth from the murals, and creatures of darkness lurking in the sinister shadows.

The entrance to the vast chamber was high doorway, reaching almost the hundred feet to the vaulted ceiling, mounted with heavy oak doors, which in turn were inlaid with stunning gold. All down the hall, in between the murals, niches in the walls were filled with lit candles spilling flickering gold and incense burners, so that a mystic haze glided over the heads of the people.

At the very end of the hall, beneath the lofty crystal windows, stood an oak alter, adorned with gold, silver and jewels, and capped with a marble top; easily the richest and most wondrous aspect of the hall; as the midday sun fell upon it and was cast in a thousand different directions. And before the Alter, to either side, great marble staircases rose up and disappeared into the wall.

Suddenly, the murmur of conversation which filled the hall fell silent to the sound of heavy footsteps, echoing off the polished walls and floor, and from the high vaulted ceiling. Everyone turned to stare at the figure now crossing the hall. It was a man, tall and dressed in sweeping jet black robes.

He crossed the hall swiftly- not pausing for the myriads of entranced watchers- heading for the Alter. His heavy boots fell loudly, like forge hammers, upon the marble floor, as he crossed the centre of the hall, with the white-garbed onlookers gathered around the edges. He paused before the Alter, level with the staircases, and looked up at the window.

Then, as hundreds watched, he raised his open hand to the window, and bowed his head, remaining perfectly still in silent prayer to an unknown god for almost a minute, before neatly turning, and quickly walking to and ascending the staircase to his left.

The hall remained captivated by silence long after he had disappeared from sight, and long after the sound of his footsteps had faded to inaudibility. After some five minutes since the stranger’s departure of the hall, the buzz of conversation began to return once more, and the atmosphere returned to normal, the interruption forgotten.

On the highest floor of the building, two white-robed men watched over a plain oak door. In their hands they carried spears, vertical at their sides, their steely eyes fixed dead ahead. Before them, a staircase rose from the lower levels, with two tall, ornately fashioned candlesticks, lacking candles, flanking it. On the remaining two walls, the high crystal windows were the most remarkable feature, through one of which flooded a shaft of golden sunshine.
The men glanced between themselves briefly as the sound of heavy footsteps came from the stairs before them. This area was off limits to all but the highest officials, and none of them had graced their charge in months.

They watched in stunned amazement as a figure appeared, clad in long black robes, with a black hood low over his head. Automatically, the men let their spears slide, forming an X shape across the door, indicating that the stranger could not pass. For a few moments he stood, considering the men, before picking up one of the tall candlesticks and inspecting it. It was roughly six feet high, and made of solid gold, making it very heavy.

“I don’t suppose you two nice gentlemen will let me pass?” he asked, fixing them both with a hard stare from under the veil of foreboding shadow cast by his hood. Silence; the men did not know what to say. “I didn’t think so,” the stranger said simply, before rotating the candlestick horizontal in one swift movement, and throwing it into the air before him. He then struck it with his open right hand, sending it slamming into the two men, at throat height. They both slumped unconscious on the marble, and the candlestick fell with them. But it never struck the floor.

It levitated just an inch from the floor, and with a twitch of his still outstretched fingers, it flew smoothly into the man’s hand, and he set it neatly beside the stairs. Next, he walked confidently to the door, ignoring the unconscious forms of the guards, and laid his hands upon the lock, closing his eyes in concentration. The iron mechanism glowed red hot for a few moments, and then gave a click, and shuddered, swinging forward to reveal the guarded chamber.

It was a shadowy room, with floor, walls and ceiling of the same white marble as in the main hall, and there were no windows or candles; the only light flooded in through the now open door. The only feature of the room was in the centre; an unadorned stone pedestal, and on top, a black orb, levitating ominously some three inches off the pedestal.

The man paused for a moment on the threshold of the door, his head bowed in reverence, as it had been when he stood before the Alter. Broken fragments of strange words could be heard through the veil covering his face, and he slowly raised his foot, to take the first step into the room.

His foot impacted upon the marble with an almighty thud, which echoed round the chamber, and down the stairway behind him. He stood, still and silent, for a moment, carefully listening, and soundlessly cursing the noise he had made. After a while, when he was sure his mistake had alerted no attention from those a level down, he returned his attention to the room.

As he gazed, transfixed by the orb, it seemed to whisper in long lost languages, and the light seemed to fade from the room. Without paying it any more attention, he cast a black velvet cloth over it, and the thing fell silent, still hanging in the air. Crossing the room with the utmost haste, he scooped the orb from its resting place and quickly departed its abode, staggering under the unexpected weight of it.

He passed through the open door, by which the two men still lay unconscious, and began down the stairs, closing the door with a wave of his hand- and listening for the click of the lock- as he tucked his prize into his robes. Having descended the stairs, he found himself to be in a grandly decorated atrium which was, like the hall, decorated with murals and gold artefacts abound.

He did not pause to think upon its splendour, or to notice the suspicious figure who now scaled the steps he had just left, but kept his hidden eyes straight ahead, continuing down a second flight of stairs, which curved round one hundred and eight degrees as they descended, coming into another atrium, like the first save without a second set of stairs. Here there were a number of corridors leading off from the atrium, and the man was about to choose the one to take, when a loud voice interrupted his thoughts.

“You there!” it cried, authority, fear and desperation blended in it. “You there! In the black! Stop!” He swore under his breath; this would no longer be a simple operation. There was no hiding a black-clad figure in a room of white robes, after all. He continued on towards his chosen corridor, ignoring the protests of his accuser, until a guard stepped out of nowhere, blocking his way. “You don’t want to do that,” he said, calmly, brushing past him. But as he passed, the guard raised his spear to strike the back of the man’s head.

But the blow never made contact; the man turned and seized hold of the spear, stopping it dead, before twisting it out of the guard’s hands, and striking him upon the temple with it. As the guard fell back, conscious but dazed, he knew his options were now only to fight or surrender; flight would be suicide.

As he turned, he saw three more guards were advancing on him, spears in hand; wolves circling a lamb they had excommunicated from its herd. He was pleasantly surprised; he had expected more than this. Though, he reasoned, the man who had exposed him most likely hadn’t revealed exactly what his crime had been, out of fear he might think to use what he had stolen.

Smiling underneath the hood, he gripped the spear he had taken with both hands, on the left of which he wore a black leather glove. Suddenly, with no warning at all, he dived at the guards, landing in the centre of them, and spun his appropriated spear across the ground in a wide circle, tripping two of them. The third quickly found his head and torso assaulted by a volley of swinging attacks with the spear.

By the time he had fallen into an unwilling unconsciousness, the other two were once more on their feet, and he turned readily to face them, adrenaline infusing his blood, and the thrill of the fight cascading like water over him. The one on the right moved first, stabbing at the thief with his spear. The man twisted away, rapping the guard’s knuckles, of the left hand, with his own weapon, and then kicking it from his hands.

The other guard had no time to make a move, as he found the butt of the man’s spear rammed into his throat, and his consciousness slipped from him as he fell back upon the floor. Now remained only one guard, and the two combatants circled each other warily. With a chuckle the man threw aside his spear. “Might as well make it a fair fight,” he said by way of explanation, chuckling once more, fully in his element now.

The guard rushed at him, making a strike for his head, which the man easily blocked, before twisting around with great elegance, and striking a savage elbow to his head. The guard staggered back, reeling, but it did not last long, as he was back with a three strike volley, again easily blocked. Before his opponent could retreat again, the man pulled back his arm, and slammed a fist into the guard’s nose, feeling a crunch upon the impact. Next, he buried his foot with enormous force in the man’s groin, following up with a knee to the face.

The man fell, flat upon his back, streams of crimson blood streaming from his nose- out cold. With a small, arrogant bow for those still watching about the edge of the room, he made for the corridor once more, but found himself halted once more when a powerful voice cried, “Stop!” It felt to the man as if he had walked straight into a brick wall, and could continue no further; magic.

Turning once again, his frustration growing, he faced the very man who had come down the stairs and alerted he guards to him, now stood, palm pointed at him. On closer inspection, he saw his challenger was barely twenty, surely just an apprentice to far greater masters. “Look child,” he said, diplomatically, but asserting his dominance, “do you honestly wish to end up like your lackeys?” he gestured to the bruised and battered forms of the guards on the floor.

“I will not let you leave,” the white robed challenger said, in almost a whisper. He moved to a combat position, fixing the man with a determined stare.

“You cannot hope to stop me!” the man hissed, suddenly snakelike and malicious, pushing his open right hand towards him, to throw him back with the same magic which had blocked his path just moments before. But the only effect was a gust of wind which seemed to rush over his robes, which rippled furiously, as he stayed where he was; immovable as rock.

And the accuser was upon him; striking with both hands, using speed and agility the guards could never have had. He struck like a tiger, swift, graceful and powerful, and with the strength of a bear. The two danced across the room, blocking each other’s attacks with graceful ease, until they came to a stop in the centre; deadlocked. Each had a firm hold on the other’s hands, and were wedged against each other so that they were trapped; each unable to break the stalemate.

Slowly they edged closer- until they were almost touching noses- when the man wordlessly rammed his forehead into the accuser’s nose, sending him sprawling upon the ground. But as he fell, he clutched at the black veil covering the man’s face, and pulled it away to reveal his left eye; an eye disfigured by a ghastly scar running diagonally across it; misty white in its blindness.

As the accuser hit the ground, he made to rise immediately, but was stopped dead by an ominous click, resounding around the hushed chamber. He looked up to find the man, blind eye exposed, pointing a handgun down at his forehead, the hammer cocked and ready.

The man looked up, and saw that his options were few indeed. All of the corridors of the atrium now boasted more white-robed, spear-wielding soldiers, carefully eying up this dangerous enemy, and pointedly averting their gaze from the unconscious men around them.

“Well, this has been fun,” the man patronized, glaring down at his fallen enemy with his sightless eye, “but I’m afraid I have to be leaving now.” And without another word he charged towards the window, and leapt clean through it. He seemed to hand for a moment in the air, surrounded by glistening shards of glass, before plummeting the seventy or so feet to the ground. The accuser rushed to the mystery man’s broken shards of escape, in time to see him execute to the floor perfectly, and flee towards the enclosing area; forest of clawing dark purpose.
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This is the first chapter of my current work, and I was just wondering what people thought of it. Please be brutal

Fantasy of You · 07-29-2006, 08:46 AM

Quote:

The white marble floor of the expansive hall gave off a soft, warm, golden glow, as the sunlight fell in shafts from the great crystal windows high above. The hall was filled with people, hurriedly crossing the polished ground, their white robes fluttering wildly in their haste; and in the air hung the murmur of enlightened conversation. No banners adorned the walls, though the walls seemed alive with images of grand stories and legends; heroes bursting forth from the murals, and creatures of darkness lurking in the sinister shadows.

Eek! My eyes, oh my eyes! How they burn. Anyway, ignoring the seering pain that makes me long for death, the first paragraph throws me away from the piece and into the 'hard, wooden, slightly stained and newly erected' wall. There is WAY too much description here.

The white marble floor of the expansive [Expansive doesn't work. Replace it or delete it] hall gave off a soft, warm, golden glow, as the sunlight fell in shafts [This is a good use of words.] from the great crystal windows high above. The hall was filled with people, hurriedly crossing [Maybe change this to hurrying across] the polished ground, their white [Robes is fine, and the 'white' can afford to be deleted, considering] robes fluttering wildly in their haste; and in the air hung the murmur of enlightened conversation. No banners adorned the walls, though the walls seemed alive with images of grand stories and legends; heroes bursting forth from the murals, and creatures of darkness lurking in the sinister shadows.

The things highlighted in bold should be deleted. They weigh the piece down with things I don't need to know. I know what it feels like to try and get across to the reader every little delete you can see in your head, but you need to learn to choose. Description is good, but like any in excess, it grows tiresome.

You are a good writer, and so I have tried to help. If you weren't compitent, I wouldn't of wasted my time. Good luck!

Fantasy

Banzai · 07-30-2006, 01:15 PM

Thanks Fantasy

This is the first piece I've put up for critique, and it means alot to me that you've been so helpful. But I was wondering, what did you think of the subsequent paragraphs? Were they ok, or did they fall into the same, overly descriptive bracket as the first one?

Fantasy of You · 07-30-2006, 01:44 PM

Certainly the first four paragraphs are bogged down with it. Then it lessens a little, but I think that is to do with you happy in you rmind you have set a vivid scene. Throughout the entire piece there are traces of it, so you should probably check the entire piece.

Banzai · 08-01-2006, 03:30 AM

Thanks Fantasy, you've been a great help

RachelA · 08-02-2006, 04:37 AM

The entrance to the vast chamber was a high doorway,

Then, as hundreds watched, he raised his open hand to the window, and bowed his head, remaining perfectly still in silent prayer to an unknown god for almost a minute, before neatly turning, and quickly walking to and ascending the staircase to his left. - This sentence needs breaking up as it's a little long.

Is alter supposed to be spelt as altar? I'm pretty sure it is.

After some five minutes since the stranger’s departure of the hall, the - This might sound better as "Five minutes after the stranger's departure, the"

On the remaining two walls, the high crystal windows were the most remarkable feature, through one of which flooded a shaft of golden sunshine. - This sounds awkward. Why would only one of them have a shaft of sunshine?

It levitated just an inch from the floor, and with a twitch of his still outstretched fingers, it flew smoothly into the man’s hand, and he set it neatly beside the stairs. - Once again, too long. In fact, I would suggest going through this and reading your sentences out loud. It should become clear when your sentences are too long and need breaking up.

But the blow never made contact; the man turned and seized hold of the spear, stopping it dead, before twisting it out of the guard’s hands, and striking him upon the temple with it. - Same again.

There are quite a few more instances where the sentences need breaking up so I just read through the rest instead. I thought the story was interesting. I would also try to find a way to introduce at least the accuser's name in there, like have the thief guy challenge his name while they're fighting or something. The reason is that it gets very confusing reading "the man" this and "the man" that. I would also cut down the fighting scenes with the guards just a bit as it slows things down there. It needs a good proof read and I agree with FOY that it's too wordy in places which slows down the pace. After all the description with the place, you have shown us very little description of the people, namely the accuser and the thief. I would build that up a bit more. With a bit of tweaking here and there, this has all the makings of a good first chapter. Good luck and hope you didn't think I was being too harsh.

Banzai · 08-02-2006, 06:21 AM

Thanks RachelA, that's very helpful.

And the reason the names aren't used is because they are two of the main characters, which is only revealed later. But your right, it is a little confusing. I'll have a think about it.

And no, you weren't to harsh at all