Thread: Felsway

Hey all.

Okay, so I wrote this short piece in order to gain to critiques. I'm not looking to continue this plot currently, but may well do so in the future. I'm basically looking for critiques about the writing style, the scene setting and character core. I'm just wondering what you all think. I was trying to steer away from purple prose and over-descriptiveness. Any way, thanks in advance to any body who took the time to read; if you took the time to reply, I appreciate it more than you know.

It was kind of rushed, so I apologize for any nuances in the script.

-- -- --

A sea of unforgiving night swept across Zarmara. Cracks of thunder exploded across the sky, illuminating
the barren, frosted terrain. Felsway, a gigantic mountain overlooking Zarmara, posed as the grand centrepiece. Tu-mir stood atop
the great summit, in anticipation.


"It's too late for you now, Tu-Mir" spoke a hoarse voice, rising from the black depths.


"You shouldn't have come" it continued "A grave mistake on your part, you foolish old-"

"You've always been one for theatrics, Gelar" Tu-mir said, cutting the voice off abruptly; his vocals stating a strong and forceful
nature, clear, in defiance of the reverberating ambience.

"Quite the comedian, aren't we?" Gelar scoffed.


"Look, I've not come here for a slinging match. You know why I'm here!"


The ground crunched as a menacing figure stepped into the moonlit arena. His dull armour contrasted greatly to
that of Tu-mir's, which was designed for movement, far lighter than the bulky dragonscale.


"So, what are we to do? You refuse to back down, in your pathetic display of misguided pride, Tu-mir." Gelar clawed his stranded hair out
of his ink-black eyes. He was much more impressive in size than Tu-mir; his length was at least twice a man's, his width
that of an immense boulder.


"You have disgraced our House. You have disgraced our Order, and now you disgrace this sacred place!" Tu-mir asserted, glancing up at
the wretched being opposing him, locking him in sight. "I am not one for violence, but your type respond to nothing else!"


"You are weak. You reak of the stench of it!" Gelar jeered.


"Enough of this!" Tu-mir stretched his arm out, grasping the decorative hilt of his warhammer. He pulled violently, gripping the huge
mace with both gauntlets. Thrusting forwards in fervourous momentum, Tu-mir bolted across towards Gelar. Twisted heavy plate crashed
as Gelar reacted, unsheathing a great hulking mass of razor-edge. The two warriors clashed in a moment of rampant volatility. Gelar
threw his blade in uncontrolled and undisicipled rage, his substantial size making even a warrior of Tu-mir skill suffer. Tu-mir
defended against a devastating blow, but with little success. The Blood-Sipper sliced through his chestplate, tearing a finger-sized wound into his collar bone. Tu-mir grimaced, letting out a yelp of agony. With all of his energy, he pushed upwards with his mace, attempting to stop the blade penetrating any further.


"My blade has tasted blood" Gelar panted, "Ahh the great Tu-mir, how you disappoint!"


"Akra-as Simuoi!" Tu-mir bellowed, shoulder dashing the giant. Tu-mir's hammer, Skeldori, lit up. Symbols glowed across the shaft,
the head releasing a blinding white. Gelar jolted, slicing the air aimlessly. Acrobatically dodging swing after swing, Tu-mir jumped, evading a final attack. With all of his remaining energy, Tu-mir blazed Skeldori through the grawing howls, delivering a
fatal, bone-shattering blow to Gelor's temple. The huge lifeless body quaked as it fractured against the frostbitten face of Mount Felsway, a river of black polluting the crisp silver. Tu-mir fell to a knee. A bolt of pain shot through his torso as he touch the gaping wound. The old warriorraised to his feet and approached the edge of the verticle cliff-face. The war of Felsway had been costly, for both armies; their bodies littered the ice deserts of Zarmara.


"You are safe for now Felsway" he sighed.

-- -- --

EDIT: I've fixed some spelling and grammar mistakes. Bloody awful mistakes. :X

Originally Posted by Doodally

A sea of unforgiving night swept across Zarmara. Cracks of thunder exploded across the sky, illuminating
the barren, frosted terrain. Felsway, a gigantic mountain overlooking Zarmara, posed as the grand centrepiece. Tu-mir stood atop
the great summit, in anticipation.


"It's too late for you now, Tu-Mir" spoke a hoarse voice, rising from the black depths (found this awkward and unnecessary).


"You shouldn't have come" it continued "A grave mistake on your part, you foolish old-"

"You've always been one for theatrics, Gelar" Tu-mir said, cutting the voice off abruptly (Interrupted abruptly?); his vocals stating a strong and forceful nature, clear, in defiance of the reverberating ambiance.

"Quite the comedian, aren't we?" Gelar scoffed.


"Look, I've not come here for a slinging match. You know why I'm here!"


The ground crunched as a menacing figure stepped into the moonlit arena. His dull armour contrasted greatly to
that of Tu-mir's, which was designed for movement, far lighter than the bulky dragonscale.


"So, what are we to do? You refuse to back down, in your pathetic display of misguided pride, Tu-mir." Gelar clawed his black hair out
of his ink-black eyes. He was much more impressive in size than Tu-mir; his length was at least twice a man's length, and his width
that of a immense boulder. (I imagined "clawing" as a frantic effort. and the second part could be something like "His height was easily trice that of an average man." or something)


"You have disgraced our House. You have disgraced our Order, and now you disgrace this sacred place!" Tu-mir asserted, glancing up at
the wretched being opposing him, locking him in sight. "I am not one for violence, but your type respond to nothing else!"


"You are weak. You reak of the stench of it!" Gelar jeered. (For some reason it's awkward. "I can smell it on you?"


"Enough of this!" Tu-mir stretched his arm out, grasping the decorative hilt of his warhammer. He pulled violently, gripping the huge
mace with both gauntlets. Thrusting forwards in fervourous momentum, Tu-mir bolted across towards Gelar. Twisted heavy plate crashed
as Gelar reacted, unshealthing a great hulking mass of razor-edge. The two warriors clashed in a moment of rampant volatility. Gelar
threw his blade in uncontrolled and undisicipled rage, his substantial size making even a warrior of Tu-mir's skill suffer. Tu-mir
defended against a devastating blow, but with little success. The Blood-Sipper sliced through his chestplate, tearing a finger-sized wound
into his collar bone. Tu-mir grimaced, letting out a yelp of agony. With all of his energy, he pushed upwards with his mace, attempting
to stop the blade penetrating any further. (Perhaps all my years of Dungeons and Dragons is making me picky, but a warhammer and a mace are two different things. Fight scenes are usually better when detailed in small actions with short words. I look to the sparring scenes in Dune whenever I need help with that. The weapons should also be introduced before using them by name. Otherwise, it's just weird.)


"My blade has tasted blood" Gelar panted, "Ahh the great Tu-mir, how you disappoint!"


"Akra-as Simuoi!" Tu-mir bellowed, shoulder dashing the giant. Tu-mir's hammer, Skeldori, lit up. Symbols glowed across the shaft and
the head released a blinding white glow, light, something. Gelar jolted, slicing the air aimlessly. Acrobatically dodging swing after swing, Tu-mir jumped, evading a final attack. With all of his remaining energy, Tu-mir blazed Skeldori through the grawing howls, delivering a
fatal, bone-shattering blow to Gelor's temple. The huge lifeless body quaked as it fractured against the frostbitten face of Mount
Felsway, a river of black polluting the crisp silver. Tu-mir fell to a knee. A bolt of pain shot through his torso as he touched the gaping wound. The old warrior rose to his feet and approached the edge of the verticle cliff-face. The war of Felsway had been costly, for both armies; their
bodies littered the ice deserts of Zarmara.


"You are safe for now Felsway" he sighed.

-- -- --

Without having any reference in what exactly was going on, I found it entertaining. But less really is more. Let me sit on this for a few minutes and I'll get back to you in more detail.

I thought it was very good for such a short piece. The characters, setting and dialogue seemed very cliche to me, but writing was good, so I could get past that for now.

A few technical things:

You reak of the stench of it

Reek.

grasping the decorative hilt of his warhammer. He pulled violently, gripping the huge
mace with both gauntlets

Two things here. Is it a mace or a warhammer? Also, grasping and gripping are very similar in sound and meaning, so I wouldn't put them so close together like that.

Tu-mir defended against a devastating blow, but with little success

'Defended' implies that is was successful, which would be a contradiction. Maybe say 'Tu-mir tried to defend...'

The old warriorraised to his feet

Needs a space. Also, should be 'rose', not 'raised'.

In broader terms, I thought the fight scene went too quickly and wasn't quite detailed enough for me. While you don't want the fight to be bogged down with too much detail, too little makes it difficult to get a clear picture of what each person is doing.

Overall, though, the writing and descriptions are good and I enjoyed it.
I imagined this as a prequel where an old man is telling tales to his grandchildren. It has that sort of 'ancient historical lore' feel to it.

Thanks to you both for the replies. Indeed there were/are a lot of grammatical and spelling problems. It's very clumsy. The plot is cliche, but it was more of an attempt to better the writing technique itself, rather than the story.

In broader terms, I thought the fight scene went too quickly and wasn't quite detailed enough for me. While you don't want the fight to be bogged down with too much detail, too little makes it difficult to get a clear picture of what each person is doing.

I agree, Josh, it went too quickly. The problem being is I used to fill my stories with too much description, which is a kind of counter-weight.

I imagined this as a prequel where an old man is telling tales to his grandchildren. It has that sort of 'ancient historical lore' feel to it.

Whilst writing it I was vague to where it was going, but I did feel the same about it as you have put here.

Needs a space. Also, should be 'rose', not 'raised'.

I can't believe I put that. See how clumsy my writing is. Bleh.

--

Without having any reference in what exactly was going on, I found it entertaining. But less really is more. Let me sit on this for a few minutes and I'll get back to you in more detail.

I really agree with less is more. For instance 'cut him off abruptly' was a part I put in afterwards, pressured by an edge of paranoia. I will attempt to heed your advice.

--

Again, thanks to both of you. You are great.

see below for my edits, suggestions and comments - you can take or leave them - you already have a nice passionate piece of writing here.

A sea of unforgiving night swept across Zarmara. Cracks of thunder exploded across the sky, illuminating the barren snowy tundra. Felsway, a gigantic mountain overlooking Zarmara, was poised like a grand centrepiece. Tu-mir stood atop the great summit, in steeled anticipation.

"It's too late for you now, Tu-Mir" spoke a hoarse voice that rose from the black depths below.

"You should not have come," the voice continued. "A grave mistake on your part, you foolish old - "

"You've always been one for theatrics, Gelar," Tu-mir said, cutting off his voice abruptly, while his tone remained strong and forceful, in striking contrast to the reverberating ambience.

"Quite the comedian, aren't we?" Gelar scoffed. (I'm not much on the general modern conversational tone throughout this piece.)

"Look, I've not come here for a slinging match. You know why I'm here!"

The snow crunched as a menacing figure stepped into the moonlit arena. His dull armour contrasted greatly to that of Tu-mir's, which was designed for movement, far lighter than his opponent's bulky dragonscale.

"So, what are we to do? You refuse to back down, in your pathetic display of misguided pride, (not the wittiest of insults here) Tu-mir." Gelar clawed his stranded (stringy might work better here) hair out of his ink-black eyes. He was much more impressive in size than Tu-mir; his length was at least twice a man's (is he not a man? if he his, then maybe say twice a common man's or something like that), his width that of an immense boulder. (vague, since immense boulders can vary greatly in width)

"You have disgraced our House. You have disgraced our Order, and now you disgrace this sacred place!" Tu-mir asserted, glancing up at
the wretched being (what makes him a wretched being? his appearance? describe it, his character? allude to it - don't let the narrator call him wretched, let the reader feel it without actually saying it) opposing him, locking him in sight. "I am not one for violence, but your type respond to nothing else!" (this actually gave me a chuckle - "I am not not one for violence", yet he carries a warhammer and is evidentally a veteran warrior..." : )

"You are weak. You reek of the stench of it! (ok, he reeks with the stench of [it] - what is it? what does he reek of? being weak? how so?" Gelar jeered.

"Enough of this!" Tu-mir stretched his arm out, grasping the decorative hilt of his warhammer. He pulled violently, gripping the huge
mace (decide which it is mace or warhammer) with both gauntlets. Thrusting forwards in fervourous momentum, Tu-mir bolted across towards Gelar. Twisted heavy plate crashed as Gelar reacted, unsheathing a great hulking mass of razor-edge fury or sword or death etc, some fitting noun. The two warriors clashed in a moment of rampant volatility (too vague, what does rampant volatility look like? describe it). Gelar
threw his blade in uncontrolled and undisicipled (delete one of these un- words) rage, his substantial size making even a warrior of Tu-mir skill suffer. Tu-mir defended against a devastating blow, but with little success. The Blood-Sipper sliced through his chestplate, tearing a finger-sized wound into his collar bone. Tu-mir grimaced, letting out a yelp of agony. With all of his energy, he pushed upwards with his mace, attempting to stop the blade from penetrating any further.

"My blade has tasted blood," Gelar panted, "Ahh the great Tu-mir, how you disappoint!"

"Akra-as Simuoi!" Tu-mir bellowed, shoulder dashing the giant. Tu-mir's hammer, Skeldori, lit up. Symbols glowed across the shaft, the head releasing a blinding white. Gelar jolted, slicing the air aimlessly. Acrobatically dodging swing after swing, Tu-mir jumped, evading a final attack. With all of his remaining energy, Tu-mir blazed Skeldori through the grawing howls, delivering a fatal, bone-shattering blow to Gelor's temple. The huge lifeless body quaked as it fractured against the frostbitten face of Mount Felsway, a river of black polluting the crisp silver. Tu-mir fell to a knee. A bolt of pain shot through his torso as he touch the gaping wound. The old warriorraised to his feet and approached the edge of the verticle cliff-face. The war of Felsway had been costly, for both armies; their bodies littered the ice deserts of Zarmara.

"You are safe for now Felsway" he sighed.

like I said, take or leave my input, just some humble suggestions - exciting scene you've described
---todd

A good piece, with decent set-up and imagery and a nicely flowing pace. As much as I enjoyed the fight, it felt a bit rushed for me - you build up to this climax, but it goes so quickly! I don't mean that you should add lots more action (maybe a bit more action); rather, expose your characters more in their greatest hour. Develop it so that the fight goes beyond two people whacking each other to death.

Niggles:

Tu-mir stretched his arm out, grasping the decorative hilt of his warhammer. He pulled violently, gripping the huge
mace with both gauntlets.

I'm confused - is Tu-mir wielding a warhammer or a mace? They aren't the same thing, nor do they create a similar image.

The old warriorraised to his feet

Word collision here. Makes a nice new word, though. 'warriorraised'...

Acrobatically dodging swing after swing, Tu-mir jumped, evading a final attack.

By saying 'Acrobatically dodging swing after swing', you start building to an epic event, but that excitement is lost when you say 'Tu-mir jumped'. Jumping isn't very impressive, especially in the climax of the climax of your piece. I'd find a more exciting term to use here instead of 'jumped'.

"It's too late for you now, Tu-Mir" spoke a hoarse voice, rising from the black depths.


"You shouldn't have come" it continued "A grave mistake on your part, you foolish old-"

The break here confused me - I first thought that Tu-mir was still talking. I'd put it all on the same line.

"Look, I've not come here for a slinging match. You know why I'm here!"

Something in me doesn't like this line. It's not that natural or exciting. I'd go for something like...

'Look, I did not come for talk or banter or some random slinging match - you know why I am here!'

You don't have to take that, though.

"You have disgraced our House. You have disgraced our Order, and now you disgrace this sacred place!"

Lovely list of three, but why in two sentences? Put it all together.

"My blade has tasted blood" Gelar panted,

Needs some punctuation.

his substantial size making even a warrior of Tu-mir skill suffer.

'Tu-mir's skill' - needs an apostrophe.

Overall, it was powerful and dramatic, if a little short. I'm reading a lot of fantasy now, and the way this drew me in is something definitely to be proud of.