krazykoreandevil

somewhat good story that needs your help! it gets better at chapter 3 - 5... i promise

Captain Gorlan, fearsome scourge of the seas, walked out of his cabin and peered through his musty, gray eyes and saw his crew. His ship, Queen Shock, silently rode the waves of water. It has been weeks since they last plundered a ship and supplies were running low. So, Gorlan had for that time settled down at his private and secure island, Blaimsworth. But now, he had decided it was time to come out and search for more ships to prey upon. Abraham, the first mate, suddenly appeared beside Gorlan.
“I’d wish you’d stop doing that Abraham, not very polite to sneak up on your captain, ya’ know.” Gorlan said with some amusement. He had picked Abraham up from Chiloe, a country with an amazingly strong army. Its infantry was unbeatable. Abraham was caught trying assassinate the leading officer during a war some years ago. Abraham had no idea what his origin was. He looked like he was 25, but he was truly 36. At only 18 Abraham was when he was an assassin. However, due to a “leak” in information, he was caught, but freed by Gorlan, who happened to be at the correct place, purely by coincidence, and cut the noose off Abrahams neck and stowed him away in his ship that was hidden.
“My apologies, sir,” Gorlan responded, “But it’s the price I have to pay for being taught how to assassinate.”
Gorlan grunted in reply and looked at his crew. They were a fearsome lot, murderers, ex-pirates, terrorists, and so on and so forth. When they were caught, Gorlan had saved them from execution with a handsome bribe to the corrupt authorities and placed them as his crew.
“What have you to report, Abraham?” Gorlan asked.
“There are no signs of any storms, to the North is Skalian, to the South, Chiloe, the West is empty sea, and the East…,” Abraham said and paused, “to the East is a company of merchant ships.
“Why the pause?” Gorlan said, his eyes narrowing.
“The ships are guarded by ships from...from Algeria.”
“Any idea why?” Gorlan said, pure, vibrant anger in his voice.
“Sir, they’re carrying a few parts of the national treasury. They’re on course to Lukmen, their capitol.”
Gorlan’s gray eyes illuminated and grew bright with fury. To Yansley, the man at the wheel, and his crew, he shouted, “Steer our ship to the East, we found some ships for us to plunder! Gear up!”
The crew shouted with surprise and glee. They haven’t had a ship to plunder in weeks and relished their chance to board another enemy ship.
Gorlan whirled around to face Abraham. “How much longer until we intercept those ships?”
“We should be able to intercept them at nightfall.”
Gorlan stomped back into his cabin and shut the door. Inside, he sat in his chair and opened his desk drawer. He found his weapons, a dagger, a sword, and his bow and arrows and his black armor hung on the wall. He rubbed his hands together anxiously, waiting for the battle to come. Gorlan, the banished Baron of Rockford State who was once the Supreme General leaned against his desk, his mind whirling with activity. I’ll kill them all, he thought, Soon, I will extract my revenge…


Timmotha young adult, about 17, peered through his scope without any real enthusiasm. He was tired after a day of steering, cleaning, and tying ropes around the ship. He’d been hired by the captain after asking for work. Timmoth groaned as his muscular body ached all over. He then saw a flicker of a mast and he eagerly searched for it again. But, he couldn’t see it again, and thought it was just his imagination. Just illusions after a hard day’s work he thought. He yawned and put down scope. He didn’t need to worry about ships here. He didn’t get why his captain had placed him at the top mast, to search for ships. They were, as were the other merchants, protected from the Algerian battle ships. If he missed any ships, the Algerians would spot it for sure. The only land near here was Blaimsworth anyway, and it belonged to that crazy pirate, Gorlan. But he was probably out terrorizing some other country, ship, government, or possibly getting new recruits. He couldn’t possibly be here. With another yawn, he sat down on his chair and in a matter of minutes, had fallen asleep. A tall, muscular boy, about the age of 17 raced along the white sands of Capiz Beach. He dared to look back and he saw a dozen or so guards running after him.
“Stop right there! Stop there, young man! I order you to halt!” the captain shouted
The boy merely laughed and in his tattered rags, easily outran the heavily armored soldiers. In his hands were large pieces of breads and a canteen of water. He looked around and ran a detour through the small patch of trees called Green Forest, and after running out of it, he found himself of a small, shabby hut. The small pigs outside rolled in the mud and snorted at the sight of him, but soon lost interest in him. The garden out in the front contained little life, a few withering tomatoes was all that was left from harvest season.
The boy opened door, and coughed as the dust had flown into his nose. “James, is that you?” called a voice from inside the house.
“Yes, mom, I’m home!” James called back, following the voice.
He found his short, blond mother cooking his least favorite food at the kitchen. Gruel. James made an ugly face at the pot and then hugged his mom.
“Look what I got!” James’s mother turned her head and squealed with delight at the new food and water. She took the food and turned to store it, but she stopped and looked back at James. She raised one boney arm and wagged her small finger at her son.
“James Tom Peterson! Where did you get this food?” she asked with icy politeness.
“Mom! It was...umm…given to me by the guards down at the market! Yeah… yeah! That’s what happened.” James said, nodding his head, as if that would persuade his mother.
But his mother was not to be deceived and roared once again, “JAMES TOM PETERSON! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT STEALING FOOD AT THE MARKET! WHY, WHEN I AM DONE WITH THIS FOOD I AM GOING TO SMACK YOU SO HARD, YOU’RE WISH THAT YOU WERE NEVER BORN!”
Yikes, James thought and scampered through the door, to his room, which was on the other side of the kitchen. He flopped onto his bed and looked across the room. His trusty sword hung there, along with a bow and a quiver which was filled with arrows. He got up and walked to his weapons. James took the sword and placed it his hip. Now, James was no longer in his small, dusty room, but rather in an open field, surrounded by the banished Gorlan’s forces. With a smirk, he unsheathed his sword, which was no longer covered in nicks, but in perfect condition, with a gold handle and rubies in it. He dashed forward into the sea of opponents and they quickly fell beneath him. Overhand, backhand, parry, thrust, slash, the sword moved with unbelievable grace as James slew his imaginary foes. Finally, Gorlan was on his knee’s, begging for mercy. James laughed in reply and swung his sword in a dangerous arc. But the sword stopped a good two feet from Gorlan’s head. James frowned, and swung again, but to no avail. Finally, James’s eyes cleared and he realized that Gorlan had actually been a toy bear, and what had stopped James’s sword was his drawer.
The sword was finely lodged into the wood and would not come loose, until finally, James used both ands and tugged with all his might. However, without any resistance, James flew across the room and slammed into the wall with a satisfying thump.
“JAMES TOM PETERSON! ARE YOU PLAYING SOLDIER WITH YOUR SWORD AGAIN?! THAT’S IT! WHEN I’M DONE WITH THIS FOOD, YOU’LL WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN, TIMES TWO! YOU JUST WAIT AND SEE!” screamed a voice from the kitchen.
James concealed a laugh and replied, “Yes, mother.” James grinned and shook his head at the ferocity of his mother. Why, James thought, she could have Gorlan himself whimpering at her feet with her anger! James peeked through a crack in the wall to see his mother, cooking gruel. After noting that it would be some time before the gruel was ready, James took his bow and arrow and slipped out through his window. Outside, the moon was high in the air, but was dull, for the sun had not set all the way yet. In the back of the hut, James had made a straw dummy, as a target, back when he was a child. After some modifications over the years, it was a proper dummy, with archer points on it. James strung his bow in a matter of seconds. He heard a noise at the edge of the forest and spun around, scared, thinking it was the guards from before. However, a small chatting squirrel looked up at James with curiosity, before getting back to his acorn.
James laughed at how paranoid he was and said aloud, “Ah, I see, my audience!” James laughed again and continued with a bow, “Today I shall kill this straw dummy, huzah.” With another sarcastic bow to the squirrel, he spun back around to face the dummy. James, fast as lightning, nocked an arrow into the bow and fired straight at the dummy’s heart. Right after, he fired again and again and again, right at the heart. James fired until his entire quiver was emptied into the dummy. As James looked, there were two dozen arrows in the area of the heart.
“Thank you, thank you, oh, you’re so kind!” James spoke with clumsy bow to the squirrel, which had moved on to a different nut. “Thank you! Thank you!” James continued. As James bowed over and over again, he glimpsed the leaves shake. He stopped bowing and frowned at the sudden movement. Can’t be wind, James thought, what could it be? Suddenly, a man in full armor appeared and was clapping and the clang of metal against metal shot through the air.
“Bravo, bravo, bravo.” The man said with a chuckle. James’s heart seemed to be on extra turbo and he feared that even the man could hear it from there.
James then got a hold of himself and said, “Sir, who are you?” James feared the worst and thought it might be a man who was ordered to capture a thief.
“Can’t you tell?” the man asked, thumping his hand on his chest armor, which had the emblem of a golden tree with a sword, spear, and shield in the middle of it.
“You’re…” James then noticed that the voice vaguely sounded familiar, but it couldn’t be. He continued, “Umm… do I know you?”
Sighing, the man tossed his armor in a heap beside him and chuckled. “How ‘bout now?” James, now completely sure, cried out, “Uncle! Uncle! Mom, come outside! It’s Uncle Rayshook!”
“Hey! That’s Grand Marshall Uncle Rayshook to you, buck-private!” Rayshook said with sarcasm and a smirk.
Awe flooded into James’s eyes and mouthed the words, “Grand Marshall”.
“That’s right! Now give this Grand Marshall a hug will ya?” As they hugged, Rayshook grabbed James into a wrestling lock and the two started to wrestle as they always did, years ago.
Finally, Mrs. Peterson walked out, ladle wagging menacingly and said, “Now, now, what’s going on out here!”
In between huge gasps, James said, “Mom…it’s…Uncle…Uncle Rayshook.” Rayshook shook his head and playfully smacked James’s head with his knuckle. James looked at him puzzled before laughing and adding, “Grand Marshall Uncle Rayshook.”
“Hey, Louis, long time no see eh?” Rayshook said with a laugh. Then, Mrs. Peterson ushered the two of them inside and the three of them spend several hours catching up on the past.

krazykoreandevil

James placed some pieces of bread as well as a jug of cold milk on the worn out table. Uncle Rayshook helped himself to several pieces of bread and a cup of water. James and his mother watched as their guest almost inhaled the food.
Rayshook grinned. “Sorry, but I haven’t had a decent meal since…” Rayshook paused as if thinking back. “Well I think it was since I left camp some weeks ago.”
“What were you eating since then?” James asked.
“Well you know. The odd rat or two and maybe some plants I found.” Rayshook winked at James, and he just managed to conceal a grin from his mother as she screamed in disgust and wrinkled her nose as if she could smell the dead rats. James then couldn’t hide his curiosity any longer.
“Uncle, so what are you doing here?” Rayshook shook his head, bewildered.
“Are you saying you don’t know?” Rayshook continued as James’s eyes revealed their ignorance, “Martin, the King’s Royal Guard Captain was assassinated! It could’ve been an assassination attempt on the king!
Haven’t you noticed the tightened security and the guards are fully armored now? The entire country is preparing for war! We’re going to war with the Chiloians. James gasped and mouthed the words, assassinated…war...security…Chiloians.
Chiloe was an island country to their south. They were small in force, but strong. Then he remembered the tightened security. He had wondered why the market guards were fully armored in the heat of the summer.
Rayshook got up and spoke, “The only problem is that we’re not ready for war. There’s so much to do now. Barons and Lords to convince, soldiers to rally, veterans asked to come back, and that means lots of resources and time. Another problem is that we’re short handed on soldiers. The King…the King’s ordered a military impressment on every third man over 16.” Rayshook paused as Louis groaned.
“James… I’m sorry, but you’re one of the three.”
James didn’t quite understand, as he failed to grasp the elusive idea that his uncle had presented.
Rayshook, seeing this said it again in clearer words. “James, welcome the Algerian Army.”
Finally, understanding this, James hesitated and looked up at his uncle.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m afraid so. However, you’re mother tells me that it’s been your dream to fight for your country. To be a knight or soldier. To protect people. Now’s your chance.”
James looked to his mother for reassurance, but this time, her face was impassive. This was James’s dream. To be able to fight for his country. To be great knight, a hero. And this was his chance. He mumbled something in a soft voice. “What was that?” Rayshook asked.
“I’ll do it.” James said with a fierce gleam in his eyes. Rayshook nodded and he stood up, “Well, now that you’ve accepted, I’ve got so much to do.” He sighed and muttered something about burying the enemy with paper work instead.
“Well then. You’ve got to have 6 months training at our closest training ground which is at..hmm... I do believe that it's near the Oxford River.” James merely nodded. “Well then?” Rayshook asked, “Get going! As your new commanding officer, I order you to pack and get ready to leave in two days. Three days tops. Got it, my little buck private?” Rayshook said the last two words with a smug grin.
James mocked a clumsy salute and said with as much sarcasm as possible, “Yes siiiiiiiir!” Rayshook wagged a finger at James and asked in a forced serious voice, “Are you being sarcastic to your superior officer young man?”
A grin threatened to break loose on both of their faces. “No siiiiiiiir!” James replied, equally forcing a serious tone. The two looked at each other’s eyes before finally fall upon one another laughing until their sides hurt. Timmoth woke with a start. He saw that the moon was still high in the sky. Shouts rung about to his left, and to his astonishment, the ship was ablaze from what looked like a shot from a giant ballistae. Looking closer, he could see that the ship was one of the Algerian battle ships. He covered his mouth then, as he saw the armored guards running about, shouting orders… about battle! He looked about, trying to see the enemy vessel, but could find none. Aboard the 7 merchant ships and 5 Algerian ships, everyone was awake now, either wetting their pants or getting ready for battle.
The Algerians had put out the flames and their archers marched onto deck. They simultaneously turned to their right. Timmoth looked to where they were looking. He took out his scope and nearly dropped it.
A ship sailed to them, and at its mast was a flag. Not just any flag, but a skull with crossed bones. A Jolly Roger. But this wasn’t what frightened Timmoth. This Jolly Roger also had a sword and spear crossing underneath it. This was no ordinary pirate ship. It was Gorlan’s.
Gorlan. The ex-supreme general of Algeria.
Gorlan. Exiled Baron of Rockford State.
Gorlan. The man who was banished from Algeria for attempted treason.
Gorlan. Who became a fearsome pirate after being banished.
Gorlan. Terror to the Algerians, and been on the most wanted man in the kingdom. For a moment, Timmoth was frozen with fear. The man that had the entire kingdom on the edge of their seat was less then 100 yards from him. The Algerian ships moved to intercept the ship. He saw them, and admired their bravery and courage. To face Gorlan, even with 5 ships vs. 1, was a huge risk. The man had used to be the Supreme General… But Timmoth wasn’t the kind of guy to have other people protect him with their lives. He did it for himself. He’d been trained in martial fighting for a few years and was the best in his class.
He could do it. As an Algerian ship passed, he launched himself off his boat and slammed into the hull of a ship. He groaned and pulled himself up from the rope that was attached to the ship. As he pulled himself onto the deck, a couple of soldiers walked up to him, anger in their eyes.
“BOY! What the hell were you thinking? Jumping off a ship!” one of them shouted into his ear.
“I otta have you lashed a couple times for such thing! Do you know the situation? We’re dealing with an exiled baron! He’s GORLAN. GORLAN you hear? YOU BLOODY IDIOT! We don’t need some boy to help us. A boy, who still wets his pants! Now get lost, before you get yourself killed by stabbing yourself.”
Timmoth lost himself in a sea of insults as the curses and streams of words seemed to pour from the man’s mouth.
He mumbled something about fighting the black lord, but the man laughed in his face. “Fight? What can you do? Piss on him? Do you think you’ll be any help you little boy. Do yourself some good and go back to your merchant ship.” The man was almost spitting at him. He raised one muscular arm, as if to smack Timmoth, but stopped as a voice drifted over.
“Stop Hawkings.” The voice said.
Timmoth turned to the voice and looked at an unfamiliar face.
“Stop Hawkings.” The man repeated. “Let the boy fight. That’s what you want to do, isn’t it boy?” He turned to face Timmoth this time and spoke, “Give the boy a sword, a quiver, a shield, and a bow. Good ones.
The soldiers didn’t move. The man turned to face Hawkings and said with icy politeness, “I ordered you to get this boy gear for battle Sergeant Hawkings. As your captain, I order you to get him gear.”
Hawkings glared at the captain and opened his mouth to argue. But he realized he was wasting his breath and finally ordered a soldier to go the armory. The soldier returned with a small bow, sword, shield, and a quiver full of arrows for Timmoth. Timmoth quickly outfitted himself. He had no armor but a shield, but it would have to do. Hawkings looked at Timmoth with obvious disgust and said, “Don’t get yourself killed kiddie. I hate cleaning up the bodies.”
Timmoth barely heard what Hawkings said though. His body was clenching and unclenching, like a boa constrictor. His insides seemed to be on fire, and he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t know what he was doing. Finally, he cleared his mind and comforted himself by singing a soft lullaby his mother had used to sing. He heard the captain shout to the line of archers on deck to nock an arrow. Timmoth strung his bow and nocked an arrow. He then chose a place at the end of line. The men were assembled 7 men by 7 men on the deck. Gorlan’s ship came closer and closer and closer, until Timmoth could see the outlines of the black lord’s fearsome crew. Stories had it told that the crew were cannibals, to be executed, by Gorlan freed them as long as they promised to be loyal and faithful. He also remembered the myth of his ship being a ghost ship. All shot, dart, and arrows would merely bounce off the ship. Timmoth shuddered at the thought and quickly threw it from his mind. The last thing he needed was to think he was facing cannibals with sharp claws and teeth that were aboard a ghost ship…maybe they did eat flesh… No Timmoth thought All these are myths. They’re not true. Calm down Timmoth. Let’s take a chill pill. I need to be strong. When I’m done here, I can go back home. Mother… Lord help me be strong… To his right, he heard the captain mutter a quick prayer before ordering to the troops.
“Load…aim...angle should be at 45 degrees.” A young boy came through the lines of men with a torch, lighting the arrows up.
He came to Timmoth and noticed that he wasn’t much older than himself. He mouthed the words, Good luck. Timmoth nodded and drew his arrow. The fire scorched his bow hand but he managed. “FIRE,” the captain screamed, firing his own flaming arrow. There was a twang of arrows and 50 arrows sailed into the sky towards the enemy vessel.

krazykoreandevil

chapter 3 - 5 open with windows word! and launch application! No virus's... i promise... xD

Attached Files

good story chapter 3-5.zip (18.6 KB, 1 views)

lemonavenue

The opening to chapter 1 is really confusing. You describe Timmoth and James in the exact same way so when the chapter began I thought they were the same person.

You need a lot work on setting the tone of your dialouge and interior monolouge (aka your character's thoughts). I nearly laughed out loud when Timmoth thought "Let's take a chill pill." Never heard of anybody in the 18th century using that phrase before. And when the infamous pirate captain Gorlan came onto deck and his first words were "It's not very polite to sneak up on your captain," I let out a little guffaw. We're supposed to fear this guy, and he's talking about manners? Even jokingly, it's not very effective. I would have been more convinced if he grabbed Abraham by the neck.

I think you need to be a little more sparing with your pronouns and use the names of your characters more often, especially since all the major characters so far have been male, ie the same gender. In the second paragraph it was hard to tell when you were talking about the captain and when you were talking about Abraham. (And in the piece of dialouge that follows, I think you meant "My apologies, sir" to be spoken by Abraham.) I like the characterization of Abraham unintentionally sneaking up on the captain because he was trained as an assassin, but I think the bit of dialouge where he says "But it's the price I pay..." makes this too obvious. It could be shown more effectively in a sublter way.

All in all, you're a pretty good writer. I think you've got a decent grasp of the basics of writing and just need to spend a lot of time practicing and polishing your craft, because you definately have potiental.

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krazykoreandevil

thanks! helped a lot, but me and my friend decided to throw the entire story to waste, and use it as like a rough draft or outline. Thanks for the advice!