The Warrior Princess - Writers Forum

wordjunkie · 03-17-2008, 09:41 PM

He sat bent over in the chair trying desperately to dispatch the pain that engulfed him. His breath came in big gulps as his body begged for oxygen that would help him recover from his run. Great beads of sweat formed on his brow and trickled down into his cloak. He closed his eyes for a moment and succumbed to the swoon that enveloped him. How long he sat, he did not know.

Just then, the door burst open. In stumbled the Warrior Princess. Her hair disheveled and stringy. Her eyes hollow sockets with the dread of death showing clearly in them. She dropped her shield, took two labored steps and collapsed to the floor in a heap just in front of him. She neither looked up at him, nor acknowledged his presence.

She began to fumble with the strings that held the leather glove to her right hand and wrist. Then, she began to tear at it with her teeth in order to remove it.

He dropped to his knees and began to gently untie the strings. The glove removed, she looked at her wrist. It was red and swollen.

“I cannot do much more of this today,” she said between laborious breaths.

He was not even sure she was speaking to him.

He looked at her face and saw the trails of tears that coursed down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook from great sobs which overtook her. Then she steadied herself and stared blankly at the floor.

“My lady, you need to rest, and regain your strength.” His words were both kind and imploring.

She looked up at him and saw the face of a wounded warrior. The ravages of war cut deep into his countenance. But there was firmness in his voice and fire in his eyes. He managed a smile.

She was in awe of his strength amid such pain.

“What about you?” She asked.

“I’m returning to the line to fight – for you. That’s what warriors do for each other. Now, go and get some rest. You will need it for the morrow. We know not what it holds.”

He grimaced as he stood up. Pain shot from his ankle all the way up his back. He reasoned with himself, “If it were broken, I could not stand.”

He walked over to the table and picked up the earthen bowl which held cool clear water. Then he stooped down and offered it to her. She took it in her hands and drank a great draft. She stopped drinking and pushed it towards him.

“No, you finish it,” he said. “I’m off now. Perhaps we will meet again.”

“Perhaps,” she replied as she studied him carefully. A spark of hope sprang to life in her in that moment. Who was this warrior and why did he treat her so kindly?

Necromortis · 03-17-2008, 10:15 PM

In some parts, your dialogue seems really archaic/stilted. Maybe that was on purpose, but 'We know not what it holds,' just sounds terrible.

I suggest you read this out loud - there's technically nothing wrong grammatically, but it reads oddly. I find that if you try reading the piece out loud, you'll pick up on some of that and be able to fix it.

Also, show us. Don't tell us. There's too much exposition, hardly any action whatsoever, and not much to grab the reader at all.

~Christian

hypercool4life · 04-01-2008, 08:27 PM

This story leaves a lot to the imagination, which is alright. It reads a bit like a scene in a brief war remission. I liked the chemistry between the warrior and the princess.

mAMBOkING · 04-02-2008, 11:19 AM

i agree with necro. sometimes the period-lingo just sounds a bit odd. otherwise, i think u did a good job at describing the budding relationship between these two (i'm guessing this was the point to the story)

Monkuta · 04-02-2008, 01:55 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by wordjunkie

In stumbled the Warrior Princess. Her hair disheveled and stringy. Her eyes hollow sockets with the dread of death showing clearly in them.

I might be wrong, but should that all be one sentence, connected by semi-colons? It seems to me that sentence 1 and 2 are fragments. Other than that, it's a nice story. It's got a nice bit of mystery at the end, even though it's easy to guess what was happening. Good job.

FantasyWitch · 04-04-2008, 03:53 AM

Your discriptions are very: he was this, she was that.
And that's annoying.

mi is happy · 04-04-2008, 07:19 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by wordjunkie

He sat bent over in the chair trying desperately to dispatch the pain that engulfed him. His breath came in big gulps as his body begged for oxygen that would help him recover from his run. Great beads of sweat formed on his brow and trickled down into his cloak. He closed his eyes for a moment and succumbed to the swoon that enveloped him. How long he sat, he did not know.
This paragraph is a bit amateurish and it seemed like you tried to hard to be "poetic". All you established was that he was sitting in a chair in an unknown area and he's tired from running.
Just then, the door burst open. In stumbled the Warrior Princess. Her hair disheveled and stringy. Her eyes hollow sockets with the dread of death showing clearly in them. She dropped her shield, took two labored steps and collapsed to the floor in a heap just in front of him. She neither looked up at him, nor acknowledged his presence.
Who is this Warrior Princess. I know no Warrior Princess.
She began to fumble with the strings that held the leather glove to her right hand and wrist. Then, she began to tear at it with her teeth in order to remove it.

He dropped to his knees and began to gently untie the strings. The glove removed, she looked at her wrist. It was red and swollen.
And? What relevance do these 2 paragraphs have to the story? Why is she suddenly taking off her glove? Why does this mysterious man help this mysterious woman?
“I cannot do much more of this today,” she said between laborious breaths.
I thought she didn't acknowledge his presence.
He was not even sure she was speaking to him.

He looked at her face and saw the trails of tears that coursed down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook from great sobs which overtook her. Then she steadied herself and stared blankly at the floor.

“My lady, you need to rest, and regain your strength.” His words were both kind and imploring.

She looked up at him and saw the face of a wounded warrior. The ravages of war cut deep into his countenance. But there was firmness in his voice and fire in his eyes. He managed a smile.

She was in awe of his strength amid such pain.

“What about you?” She asked.

“I’m returning to the line to fight – for you. That’s what warriors do for each other. Now, go and get some rest. You will need it for the morrow. We know not what it holds.”

He grimaced as he stood up. Pain shot from his ankle all the way up his back. He reasoned with himself, “If it were broken, I could not stand.”
What area did he hurt? If it were his legs the his back wouldn't be hurting. If you broke your forearm then the pain would only travel up to your elbow.
He walked over to the table and picked up the earthen bowl which held cool clear water. Then he stooped down and offered it to her. She took it in her hands and drank a great draft. She stopped drinking and pushed it towards him.

“No, you finish it,” he said. “I’m off now. Perhaps we will meet again.”

“Perhaps,” she replied as she studied him carefully. A spark of hope sprang to life in her in that moment. Who was this warrior and why did he treat her so kindly?
The man seems to act as though he knows this warrior princess, but she doesn't seem to know him. Is he a common soldier that someone of her status wouldn't recognize?

Sorry if I may have sounded harsh earlier before. I am going to sound harsher right now. You didn't establish a real setting, all you had established was a chair, a door, and a water basin. There was no back ground information and the reader had to mainly relay on guess work to understand what was going on. Your characters were, dare I say, flat. They really had no personality and even no identity. In fact, you didn't even have a real plot. It was just a dialogue between two people who are tiered.
I'm terribly sorry if I had offended you, but please heed my advice. Just remember that the reader doesn't know everything you know.