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[Skyrunner]

Eh...

Personally, I think myself to be not so bad at actually writing, but horrible at writing longer sections of correlated, uninterrupted text. Like maybe a couple of good, strong paragraphs.

Also, I tend to lapse into passive voice. >.>

Let's see...:

Spoiler: Random story (click to show/hide)

He trudged up the black hill. The soggy snow blowing in his face was a constant bother, especially since his visor did not allow him to wipe it off. Behind him, the sorceress and the other fighter likewise were having such difficulties. Ebbie was practically freezing in her light gear.

"Almost there," his voice trailed off in the wind, splintering everywhere like the ice he was crushing underfoot.
"The gate should be on top of this..."

A flutter of wings quietly announced the end of the sorceress. The body of a huge beast pushed her. She slipped.
He had to ignore the demise of his companion. Deep in his mind he mourned, but it was pushed aside and filed away for the greater good of humankind. "Damn it," he breathed. More fog condensed on the inside of his helmet.

At last the top of the hill, and the dirty silver doors, was in sight. Twenty feet tall, wider than four men, and with a pair of rungs on each door near the center. It was a door that cracked open in the middle and swung to both sides. Dark creatures infested the ground and walls of it.

He hefted his old great-sword. The fighter readied sword and shield. They charged.

To him, the swing of a sword meant one less set of claws to avoid, get hit by, or parry, but it also opened him up for an opportunistic attack. Each attack brought him closer to glory but also ticked down another bead on his abacus of life. The tiny creatures tried to swarm him, and he disagreed. Strongly. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead before solidifying. He bonked a creature with his hilt and brought the blade to bear on another one of its thrice accursed associates. To his right, the other fighter was swarmed and eventually fell.

In desperation, he withdrew and ran for the gate.
He fought his way up.
He found the gate rungs.
He swung them open.
White light shined out.
The other side was an expanse of snow.
It was a hilly terrain.
The grey clouds scattered white feathers unto the ground.
Each of them burned.
Horribly, horribly, burned.
This was not the paradise he was told of.

"Morrigan... Even in this place... was a paradise not found..."
He swayed, and fell.

The creatures chittered at their meal.

[kytuzian]

I don't have to much to say, except that I might write something for here soon. I hope so.

Anyway, Skyrunner, I think your story reads almost like a poem because of the short sentences and relatively high quantity of metaphors and similes.

[adwarf]

Note: I have a tendency to write everything Grimdark, so :\

Spoiler: Short Story (click to show/hide)

A man stood tall upon the hill, his shadow towering in front of him as the sun shone across his back, his feet were planted in the soft dark green grass, and bright colored flowers of what was once a garden long ago. He stood proud, clothed in the thin, scraggly, dull colored clothing that marked him as a peasant, in his hand was a battered sword. It was nicked, and covered in rust yet he held it as if the sword was the most powerful, and foreboding thing he could wield. He stood in front of a horde of the stinky, ill mouthed, ill clothed, and green skinned beasts that had come to destroy his village.

Even infront of such great odds he stood strong, and brave, as he lifted his sword he knew that Death walked beside him now, today would be his last before that cold embrace took him. With a roar that had broken many a mans spirit the beasts charged up the hill, wielding crude clubs, stone axes, and spears they attacked the man. His sword gleamed in the setting sun, and the beasts began to fall before him, where his sword fell Death followed in quick succession, and the many a green beast was left twitching, or scrabbling for its last breath upon the green grass. His sword soon wore the crimson blood of his foes as it dripped off the end, he slashed his sword, and the familiar feeling of slicing bone was present for a mere moment before yet another of the foul monsters fell.

Pulling his sword from the crumpled pile of a monster the man turned to face the rest of the horde, but as he turned a sharp pain erupted from his side, blood poured from his wound as a spear sliced the side of his torso wide open. A river of blood drenched his clothes, and his pants as the air filled with dull thuds, and the man was hit by arrow after arrow. Soon enough the man was kneeling on the ground, covered in blood, and with a dozen arrows sticking from his chest, and back the man fought on. His blade lashed out, and more of the monsters fell before him. Yet before such odds his body soon gave way, and his vision began to fade. As his last breath escaped his eyes a hooded figure with skeletal hands stood over him, and spoke, "Being a Hero simply means you die first ..."

[Urist McScoopbeard]

I know it takes time to write but come on people this thread should be more active! I myself haven't posted anything in some time, I will remedy that this week.

[Telgin]

I've wanted to post something here, or at the very least write something but I'm at that frustrating phase where I have a very strong urge to write but absolutely nothing to write about. 

Actually, I've had a strong urge to get back on the fantasy novel I started like a year ago and only wrote two chapters for.  If only it wasn't so hard to make fantasy fresh and interesting.  I set out with that being the goal and kind of lost the story under it.  Time to start over with the story up front.  Now if only that wasn't so hard to come up with.

The only other writing I've done lately basically amounts to dubious quality fan fiction and I'd rather not inflict that upon everyone here.   

Ah well, this thread is more about getting help for writing so maybe I can chip in and give some critique at least.

[Galick]

Interesting!  I've been getting the creative itch lately anyway, and I've been working on a book off and on for the past few years anyway.  World building it at least.  If any of you would like to critique this passage (basically the opening) I'd be very grateful!  No, I'm not going to give any context - I want to see what people think when I don't mention anything beyond it to give them a clue as to what certain things mean.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The world does not live in Harmony, like most suspect.  In truth, the world is a fickle thing ran by the minds and wills of those greater than mere man.  This is the One Truth.  Those who's strength and will governs the world, but our Faith and Will govern them.  It is in this small way that we are able to leave our mark in History.

Those who govern us preach the Glories of those they worship - the Elements.  It is these beings that are the true power of the world, for they are the physical beings that make up the true power of that which we Use.  Their effects are everywhere, and they can only grow in Strength if We allow it.  As Humanity, we are the sheep...but we are the sheep who give our Shepard his strength, for without our wool or our mutton He cannot subsist.

The Six Who Are bring Chaos to this world.  But, their existance is the only thing holding our World together.  Ages past, before the Advent we were proud proud creatures.  All were.  Man and Mer and all others.  We grew hateful, we grew spiteful, we grew warlike.  And such a war we waged that the very world was very nearly split in two.  And then the World began to fight back, in objection to being our battleground. 

Six were born, and those Six fought back.  The very Earth we fought on crumbled beneath our feet and surged up to engulf us, our Flames of war grew powerful and surged over us.  The Water we used to cleanse our wounds and quench our thirst turned to blood and acid in our mouths and wounds, festering them further.  Our Power twisted and arced, destroying any engine it was within and all around it.  The very Air we breathed scorched our lungs and blackened our innards.  We sought refuge in the wastes, but even the Ice was cruel.  It crept over us as we slept, stole the life from our weak and injured.  And soon, we cried out for the world to forgive us and it answered.  "For your Crimes, you shall be punished.  Every age, We shall Reclaim what is ours and bring your Empires and Kingdoms to ruin.  Every Age, we shall punish you for your Hubris and Hate.  Every Age, these Six will be born again and shatter all that you hold dear."

[Urist McScoopbeard]

Sounds like the start of a good adventure book. I hope you've got more.
The only thing, to me, that does not flow is the first sentence, I think instead of 'like' you should have 'as' however that is at the mercy of your prejudious.

As for myself, here is my aforementioned contribution, atleast a part of it, I'll get more out soon.
I've had the story brewing for a couple of years now and the basic backdrop is that the world's gone to shit, blah, blah, blah, technogarbage. Anyways, America, in a crippling civil war, has torn itsself apart and after recovering has formed into a collection of feudal states, which in turn cannot support a large commercial industry and as such have regressed somewhat to medieval times, although the use of firearms is still common. Things like like tanks and other costly armaments are less frequently used and as such each kingdom scrabbles to get as much land as it can manage. The setting is in the Area that used to be West Virginia, and things are quite hectic. D.C. is a raging battleground between a new-yorkish empire and a collection of Georgian city states who fight over the secrets of the white house and the pentagon, blah blah blah again. Finally the kingdoms are somewhat manipulated by the powerful energy corporations still in existence (which is few).

The setting for the snippet here is that the main char is attending a council on how to deal with the rest of the pennsylvanian empire, which is a buffer state, among other things. Of the aformentioned plot points some will be elaborated on in following snippets.

and as usual please critique:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

       Gerald, looked about him, as per usual the day was quite dull, this was-after all-the first time the council had convened in months, and as expected the usual rivals shouted each other down from across the chamber and the other representatives argued over some fool thing or other. Gerald was himself a knight, and-to his misfortune-the elected representative from one of the poorest provinces in the realm, the newly annexed: ‘Pennsylvanian Duchy.’ While the duke had of course an expansive retinue of politicians and diplomats, brought with him to his newly formed center of state, Gerald was a former Hedge-Knight, who had managed to distinguish himself in battle, although he didn’t consider bashing a man’s brains out in front of the Duke very distinguishing at all. Since the Duke had spread himself so very thinly trying to quell any unrest all of his politicos were engaged, leaving poor Gerald to represent the new state himself. Immediately around him sat representatives he was not familiar with, although their extravagant dress said something, they were probably from the south-west of the Virginian kingdom and talked quietly amongst themselves, only to his extreme right and left did he spot any cohorts of his, particularly Count Amerisk who gave him a knowing wink from the upper balcony. The Count and he had been friends for some time, and Gerald had had the opportunity to participate in a handful of military campaigns with him, in years past the Count had been elected ‘Lord Marshal’ several times and now relegated himself to his home province.

[Tiruin]

So...I'll post critique on the stories above, if anyone is willing for it.

Also, double posting (maybe) for a story later on.

(How do you all do such short stories with great flavor guys?! Warning before I post mine, it is longwinded...)

[Galick]

So...I'll post critique on the stories above, if anyone is willing for it.

Also, double posting (maybe) for a story later on.

(How do you all do such short stories with great flavor guys?! Warning before I post mine, it is longwinded...)

I'd be very interested in a critique if you'd like to give it.  And this way you're not gonna double post

[adwarf]

Same as above

[Urist McScoopbeard]

Thirded? EDIT: we should hold a seminar on world creation.

[Galick]

Thirded? EDIT: we should hold a seminar on world creation.

I actually know a fair bit about that through my own experimentation, so I could maybe rant about it at length?  At least, my own experiences with it?

[Tiruin]

Anyone can comment on anyone else's story. It's how people learn, by sharpening the other's blade to steel themselves for the coming battle. Unless I missed something. Feel free to give your opinions, so we can all rise like the rest.

Just like Dwarf Fortress!

. . .

You really didn't want me to double post, did you all?

Also, all criticism is in spoilers because...well, spoilers! 

Disclaimer: All criticism made are spun out of the spool of opinion. They are just words on a post, made just for a helping tip. They are not set in stone, or labeled down as a law. Feel free to work your own way. I make huge walls of text when I criticize. If anyone has a problem with that, please voice it out.

And if you take a peek on some spoilers, you'll see how long-winded I am. Sorry.

How do you all do this? Short, brief, concise and precise! . . .

I love stories. [/gettothepointalready]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

       Gerald, looked about him, as per usual the day was quite dull, this was-after all-the first time the council had convened in months, and as expected the usual rivals shouted each other down from across the chamber and the other representatives argued over some fool thing or other. Gerald was himself a knight, and-to his misfortune-the elected representative from one of the poorest provinces in the realm, the newly annexed: ‘Pennsylvanian Duchy.’ While the duke had of course an expansive retinue of politicians and diplomats, brought with him to his newly formed center of state, Gerald was a former Hedge-Knight, who had managed to distinguish himself in battle, although he didn’t consider bashing a man’s brains out in front of the Duke very distinguishing at all. Since the Duke had spread himself so very thinly trying to quell any unrest all of his politicos were engaged, leaving poor Gerald to represent the new state himself. Immediately around him sat representatives he was not familiar with, although their extravagant dress said something, they were probably from the south-west of the Virginian kingdom and talked quietly amongst themselves, only to his extreme right and left did he spot any cohorts of his, particularly Count Amerisk who gave him a knowing wink from the upper balcony. The Count and he had been friends for some time, and Gerald had had the opportunity to participate in a handful of military campaigns with him, in years past the Count had been elected ‘Lord Marshal’ several times and now relegated himself to his home province.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

> Use spacing.  Paragraphs are there to separate a whole thought train of ideas from the other trains, without using that power, you end up with a mile-long train wreck of words that needs to be sorted over by the authorities and survivors.

This was an allegory, the eyes are the authorities and understanding is the survivor(s).

> I see you made a preamble on your story. That's good for identification if you get lost and I know it is very useful! (I keep on doing this, and not posting it down, heh.) But if you're aiming for a full blown story, or at least part of one that could be picked up, read and then understood: you should learn how to introduce everything from fluff. This means briefly introducing the setting, time of day if possible, current surroundings and focus of view. More on the focus later.

But what the focus should be on, is primarily the character. The character you're trying to push out and flesh out. Which you did well!

However, while you do use the word 'knight' as the descriptor of your protagonist, I think you should describe how he does look to others. I can think of a thousand knights, all with the name Gerald, but I'm not sure how exactly he looks like. He could be a muscular, trained Hedge-Knight, or a bit stout on the side from the peace. Or he could be like a certain black-armored knight with a broken nose and a snarky attitude...

You did not specify the color of armor, and while the normal steel/iron colored plate comes to mind, I can imagine him in pink and there would be no harm done there or would thinking him as bald and frail. Or if he was in plain clothes or just a surcoat and chainmail. Requesting for more detail, but you did well there.

> On the focus: it is the most important tool you use in crafting a story. It is how you bring the reader's vision to play. How an observer shall see it with their mind's eye. From where I see it, you're doing it from third-person, limited. Good work there! But you need to do more, continuing below.

> Detail, detail, detail.

And, detail.

"...as usual...the day was quite dull"

Aye, the day is dull. But what makes it dull? No, rephrase. What makes it dull from your character's eyes? You, as a narrator, have no power or influence in how the story is played. Just a voice.

So, Sir Gerald, what makes this day dull for you?

> Knights, in history, obey a certain code that distinguishes them from the commoners and soldiers of their era and time. That is the Code of Chivalry. No knight shall lay harm to any innocent or woman. "Bashing someone's brains out" does not sound good, but it does lead to the imagery of an uncaring mercenary, which I guess is what you're trying to put your character out as. And one with respect of nobility, too!

Though, you did repeat "Gerald was a former Hedge-knight" following "Gerald was a knight". Redundancy there.

Plus, the term of 'knights' were used in Medieval Europe. I had a hard time distinguishing them in America  , don't take this sentence as criticism, just my personal note.
> It may be my inexperience with English wordplay, but I'm not sure if "as per usual the day" would be correct. Semantically, I don't think so, but it may just be how I read. And you misused the comma right after "Gerald" in the first sentence.

'Gerald, looked about him, as per usual the day was quite dull, this was-after all-the first time the council had convened in months, and as expected the usual rivals shouted each other down from across the chamber and the other representatives argued over some fool thing or other.'

"Gerald looked about him, observing the men and women sitting in the stands which towered above him, and turned his head back to staring at the marble floor. It was a dull day once more, the usual arguments were thrown during the session as political rivals played their word-games; as tension rose, so did their voices, leading to nothing more but shouting and noise. The occasional deflection onto a random fool was placed in here and there, but there was nothing new to be gained from all this."

> The " , and as expected..." part sounds like a whole new sentence and thus, a whole new idea. Separate it with a period instead of a comma, unless that is what you refer to by "the day was quite dull".

> In my opinion, the use of the dash was misused there. "This was-after all-the first..."

Commas could be put to better use, and there needs to be spaces before the first and after the last dash.

> I edited a bit, in italics. Hope it helps.

> "Since the Duke had spread himself so very thinly trying to quell any unrest..."

Ouch, that must really hurt.

So I guess you were referring to the Duke's armies or his Military strength and not his personal and physical body, right?

> If the Count and Sir Gerald were friends for some time, go and show it. A tiny gesture, a nod of the head, a meeting of eyes and a curt signal would all do. Mostly, you can't just say they are friends and leave it like that.

I can say I'm friends with the current reigning dictator of [insert town here], but that would just be what I say. How do I show it?

> Well, the above is what I would have said, if I hadn't missed the "Count Amerisk who gave him a knowing wink from the upper balcony."

Great.

Though, saying it by the word 'wink' would be strange to some. Detail, please.

Overall, the start is well-off, needs a bit of polishing in detail and who is going to be who. You have a nice set of potential protagonists, an unknown antagonist and an ally to the knight.

Very interesting.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The world does not live in Harmony, like most suspect.  In truth, the world is a fickle thing ran by the minds and wills of those greater than mere man.  This is the One Truth.  Those who's strength and will governs the world, but our Faith and Will govern them.  It is in this small way that we are able to leave our mark in History.

Those who govern us preach the Glories of those they worship - the Elements.  It is these beings that are the true power of the world, for they are the physical beings that make up the true power of that which we Use.  Their effects are everywhere, and they can only grow in Strength if We allow it.  As Humanity, we are the sheep...but we are the sheep who give our Shepard his strength, for without our wool or our mutton He cannot subsist.

The Six Who Are bring Chaos to this world.  But, their existance is the only thing holding our World together.  Ages past, before the Advent we were proud proud creatures.  All were.  Man and Mer and all others.  We grew hateful, we grew spiteful, we grew warlike.  And such a war we waged that the very world was very nearly split in two.  And then the World began to fight back, in objection to being our battleground. 

Six were born, and those Six fought back.  The very Earth we fought on crumbled beneath our feet and surged up to engulf us, our Flames of war grew powerful and surged over us.  The Water we used to cleanse our wounds and quench our thirst turned to blood and acid in our mouths and wounds, festering them further.  Our Power twisted and arced, destroying any engine it was within and all around it.  The very Air we breathed scorched our lungs and blackened our innards.  We sought refuge in the wastes, but even the Ice was cruel.  It crept over us as we slept, stole the life from our weak and injured.  And soon, we cried out for the world to forgive us and it answered.  "For your Crimes, you shall be punished.  Every age, We shall Reclaim what is ours and bring your Empires and Kingdoms to ruin.  Every Age, we shall punish you for your Hubris and Hate.  Every Age, these Six will be born again and shatter all that you hold dear."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

> Don't scratch that itch! Don't let it disappear!

Let your creativity flourish! May it grow!

And revisions are in italics.

> Mysterious prologue, packed with a denouncement of assumed fact and a spicing of something-to-be-unravelled. Nice.

Though, IMO, I think you should put in a tiny bit of comparison there. Despite what you did say, out-of-story wise.

"The world does not live in Harmony, like most suspect."

The world does not live in Harmony, like most suspect. Unbeknownst to the people, what disrupts the peace is ever-present in the media. Stories of death and deviance are apparent their ears. Many overlook the lightest of misdeeds. There exists a hierarchy that governs the peace that we know, and there are minds and wills that govern us all.

This is the One Truth.

. . .

So I tried to expound it...

> Exactly, what world are we talking about? To go into detail (which I don't think is needed, but unsure if I shouldn't post it), the world could be an intangible substance of gas. It could be the nebulous, entropic world of dreams. Maybe, it could be the Earth, our own home.

Or it could be another reality!

> I see you capitalized some common words to give emphasis. I concur with you, good sir. But, I think you need to intentionally make it even more vague. Your opening is in mystery, yes, but it may be better to pull on the rope that holds the reader's eyes. Make them wonder what you're trying to show, going along the lines of: 'What in the world am I reading?! I like it!'

About those capitalized words, you could go around the bush here and try to weave a tale on it. Using other words to describe what you're trying to pertain meaning to, other than going with the generality of Them and what We may typically see. 

> "The Six Who Are bring Chaos to this world.  But, their existance is the only thing holding our World together."

The meaning is continued in the next paragraph. But I see more to these two sentences!

What Chaos is there? How is this 'Chaos' defined? Why should they exist to hold this world together?

Unless...this world is bound by CHAOS!

So I think you can use the first sentence here, and expand it's use. Define what exactly is chaos, as normally this means disorder and a completely random and anarchistic event.

What is your Chaos? What reason must it exist for the world to hold?

> The presence of other species intrigues me. Yes, spoken like a natural. Like they were there and they don't need introduction, good job! But I believe you need to back some parts up with detail. The fear of losing your point or edge/meaning would be firstly apparent, but you can find a way to subvert this.

All your materials are there! Work that itch into a rash!

> Time.

You need a timeline, I guess. As time is mostly relative, how far are those powers' effects and are they quickly influencing the world? Or did it all crumble in a century due to our fast-technological advances? Maybe put in some details on how worldly empires rose and fell, a bit of local lore on the side just to milk the fall of the World.

> The epilogue to that was very well done.

"And soon, we cried out for the world to forgive us and it answered.  "For your Crimes, you shall be punished.  Every age, We shall Reclaim what is ours and bring your Empires and Kingdoms to ruin.  Every Age, we shall punish you for your Hubris and Hate.  Every Age, these Six will be born again and shatter all that you hold dear."

IMO, I think you need to detail out how petty and needy for mercy we are. Adding a bit of how we did it would be nice. Like wearing sack-cloth and kneeling in repentance. Or, crying and praying to the heavens, for the Gods to hear us. Or anything, actually.

Spoiler: Short Story (click to show/hide)

A man stood tall upon the hill, his shadow towering in front of him as the sun shone across his back, his feet were planted in the soft dark green grass, and bright colored flowers of what was once a garden long ago. He stood proud, clothed in the thin, scraggly, dull colored clothing that marked him as a peasant, in his hand was a battered sword. It was nicked, and covered in rust yet he held it as if the sword was the most powerful, and foreboding thing he could wield. He stood in front of a horde of the stinky, ill mouthed, ill clothed, and green skinned beasts that had come to destroy his village.

Even infront of such great odds he stood strong, and brave, as he lifted his sword he knew that Death walked beside him now, today would be his last before that cold embrace took him. With a roar that had broken many a mans spirit the beasts charged up the hill, wielding crude clubs, stone axes, and spears they attacked the man. His sword gleamed in the setting sun, and the beasts began to fall before him, where his sword fell Death followed in quick succession, and the many a green beast was left twitching, or scrabbling for its last breath upon the green grass. His sword soon wore the crimson blood of his foes as it dripped off the end, he slashed his sword, and the familiar feeling of slicing bone was present for a mere moment before yet another of the foul monsters fell.

Pulling his sword from the crumpled pile of a monster the man turned to face the rest of the horde, but as he turned a sharp pain erupted from his side, blood poured from his wound as a spear sliced the side of his torso wide open. A river of blood drenched his clothes, and his pants as the air filled with dull thuds, and the man was hit by arrow after arrow. Soon enough the man was kneeling on the ground, covered in blood, and with a dozen arrows sticking from his chest, and back the man fought on. His blade lashed out, and more of the monsters fell before him. Yet before such odds his body soon gave way, and his vision began to fade. As his last breath escaped his eyes a hooded figure with skeletal hands stood over him, and spoke, "Being a Hero simply means you die first ..."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

> Firstly, I don't know what Grimdark actually means, or was it the writing style used in Warhammer 40k?

. . .

No, wait. This does look like something along the lines of Warhammer 40k writing. The style. 

> Variance of words. IMO, using the word "ill" to describe two related objects doesn't sound good. There are many synonyms out there, you use them well, though.

> You made a tiny mistake. Putting a comma before "and". While this is correct, you did it twice in one sentence. I'm unsure on if this really is correct, but it seems wrong from where I see it.

> Restructuring sentences. I see a bit of redundancy in some of them, usually this is shortened by re-wording or the use of other words. Sometimes, meaning goes off-track in quite a few of them.
"With a roar that had broken many a mans spirit the beasts charged up the hill, wielding crude clubs, stone axes, and spears they attacked the man."

> You could use the semi-colon, if the following would have an idea related to the first, but being able to stand on it's own if mentioned. Now, I am nitpicking  but I guess this is what criticism may be like. I don't do criticism unless needed, like in this thread. You should also use apostrophes.

A bit of detail on the beasts would help. What size are they in relation to the man and other than their skin-tone: are they frail in comparison, having weak limbs and relying on weapons to do their work or just the same size of the man, humanoid in shape but just different enough to be called so.

> "...and the many a green beast was left twitching..."

Typo there? Re-reading your story in the eye of a reader would easily pick out what may be wrong. This also helps in spotting what you may miss, like a thought on how the plot jumps from one part to the other, had you not been thinking from the eyes of a narrator.

> "Pulling his sword from the crumpled pile of a monster the man turned to face the rest of the horde, but as he turned a sharp pain erupted from his side, blood poured from his wound as a spear sliced the side of his torso wide open."

Maybe a bit of comma and period would help. The "as he turned a sharp pain..." would count as a new idea, thus earning itself a new sentence spot. Now it would maybe be just me and semantics, but by voicing the first line, it sounds wrong without that extra comma.

Don't be afraid to sprinkle punctuation marks over your story. When you do a re-read, and in voice (or your mental voice), it would be much easier to pick it all out than writing all at once. Though, this depends on your style and how you write. A personal note, not to be taken as fact.

> That was a good ending. IMO, a bit more detail would really milk the desperation of the hero as he fought the overwhelming hordes.

Like, what was his emotion when he did face them. What I mean is, by his emotion and from his view. You could put in an increase in heart rate, a twitch of the hands or the realization of your own breathing to indicate nervousness. Controlled breathing and a relaxed, but solemn stature indicating bravery, and so on.

When he did see the skeletal figure, he did not feel anything or he was too...dead to feel? Know that hearing is the last sense you can have before sensory death followed by brain death, which you portray well there.

Spoiler: Random story (click to show/hide)

He trudged up the black hill. The soggy snow blowing in his face was a constant bother, especially since his visor did not allow him to wipe it off. Behind him, the sorceress and the other fighter likewise were having such difficulties. Ebbie was practically freezing in her light gear.

"Almost there," his voice trailed off in the wind, splintering everywhere like the ice he was crushing underfoot.
"The gate should be on top of this..."

A flutter of wings quietly announced the end of the sorceress. The body of a huge beast pushed her. She slipped.
He had to ignore the demise of his companion. Deep in his mind he mourned, but it was pushed aside and filed away for the greater good of humankind. "Damn it," he breathed. More fog condensed on the inside of his helmet.

At last the top of the hill, and the dirty silver doors, was in sight. Twenty feet tall, wider than four men, and with a pair of rungs on each door near the center. It was a door that cracked open in the middle and swung to both sides. Dark creatures infested the ground and walls of it.

He hefted his old great-sword. The fighter readied sword and shield. They charged.

To him, the swing of a sword meant one less set of claws to avoid, get hit by, or parry, but it also opened him up for an opportunistic attack. Each attack brought him closer to glory but also ticked down another bead on his abacus of life. The tiny creatures tried to swarm him, and he disagreed. Strongly. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead before solidifying. He bonked a creature with his hilt and brought the blade to bear on another one of its thrice accursed associates. To his right, the other fighter was swarmed and eventually fell.

In desperation, he withdrew and ran for the gate.
He fought his way up.
He found the gate rungs.
He swung them open.
White light shined out.
The other side was an expanse of snow.
It was a hilly terrain.
The grey clouds scattered white feathers unto the ground.
Each of them burned.
Horribly, horribly, burned.
This was not the paradise he was told of.

"Morrigan... Even in this place... was a paradise not found..."
He swayed, and fell.

The creatures chittered at their meal.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

>""Almost there," his voice trailed off in the wind, splintering everywhere like the ice he was crushing underfoot."

I sense a shift in voice or view, I'm not sure which, but I think you need to shift it to ("Almost there," his voice trailed off, it splintered everywhere like the ice he was crushing underfoot due to the frigid wind.)

> I got a tiny bit confused when you mentioned "Allies behind him" followed by "Flutter of wings = one down, protagonist mourns..."

From there, I get that the setting is somewhere cold, temperature wise. The positioning of them led to my confusion, how far were his allies actually? "Behind him" may be from a few paces away to a few meters. Where the fighter is, in relation to your protagonist and the sorceress also confused me:

"Behind him, the sorceress and the other fighter likewise were having such difficulties."

I took this to mean a line or such. Protagonist was first, followed by sorceress then fighter. Leading to the confusion above. Why didn't anyone do anything? Or did the beast use the surroundings to it's advantage, being huge and winged?

> Now it may just be me and my knowledge on geographical landforms, but I don't think a hill is high enough to kill anyone. The slip + fall could, but describing it from any character's eyes would help. Like a sense of apprehension from someone looking down and the feeling of dread should one of them fall.

> On that note, "flutter"? Then "huge"?

Very interesting beast there! 

Not saying that is wrong, but that I think more detail must be put in. You have a good premise there.

> More detail.

How did the characters move, in relation with the snow? Or how their weaponry was angled and placed? Did their charge have any impediments? Was there any obstacle in the way, like the constant snow or unsure footing?

How did the protagonist actually feel when he saw his other ally fall? Desperation for survival, apparent, but maybe give his emotions on how he saw his mortality in the face of the numerous enemies. Nothing is better than giving what your characters see and feel. Helps with the view.

> Generalization is worse than specialization. This pertains to what and where, how many and how far creatures are from each other. "Dark creatures infested the ground and walls of it."

The sentence mentioned above does say where the enemy lies. "The tiny creatures tried to swarm him, and he disagreed. Strongly." This adds detail, but putting a comma instead of a period will link how much he disagrees.

> The ending felt like...a cop out (sorry). There is much space for work, and detail. Not including how much you could put into it. It may feel like a vague though at first, but put down how it must feel and some minor details on the side - from your character's view. 

Doing so, it would help the reader to see things from your people. How they see it may be different from how you (the narrator/author) may see it, so give it your best shot!

Too much detail never killed anyone. I liked how you made your story, there is much room for improvement!

C'mon and join the FUN Telgin, and everyone else who is browsing this and/or has posted since then on. 
Hurrah! Free-time!

Updated the list of notes to those I've missed, hope my criticism didn't sound stupid. 

This needs more activity, no?

Spoiler: As there was no monthly/bi-weekly prompt lately... (click to show/hide)

It was night. There were crickets chirping in the distant underbrush, livening up the setting with their harmonious melody; soon quieted by the sound of leather boots passing through the high grass. A man strode, cloaked in a dark fabric, his arms swung freely by his side as he moved through the forest and he walked as if in peace with the world. He turned his head upwards to gaze at the sky, it was perfectly black, other than the luminescent glow of Naia - the silver moon in her full beauty. The Legend of the Night Maiden filled his thoughts, and he smiled knowing she was watching over her people before turning back to his goal.

He continued along the unbeaten path, enjoying the cacophany of sounds that echoed around him. The presence of natural life was one thing to keep his mind off the goings of the day. His name was Theilin. A man of twenty-two and currently a scout serving in the militia of the town, Fenerof. His body was of broad stature: lean and able in appearance, bundled with well-knit muscle. Against the moonlight, his tanned skin appeared to take on the glow of surroundings, resembling a ghostly visage.

Theilin pulled back his hood, revealing a face not one of a common soldier. He had deep brown eyes and hair as dark as the heaven above, his face was angled at the chin and nose was slightly askew.

The man stopped at a space surrounded by a copse of trees, filled with finely trimmed grass. He could feel a calm breeze sifting through the land, creating minor undulations in the land around him. "Well, here we are," he said to nobody in particular. "The clearing in the glade. Strange place to perform the ritual, but ol' Furin was never wrong before," he continued with a shrug, moving his left hand beneath the cloak.

He felt around for the familiar wolf-headed hilt of the sword while scanning the direct area. His eyes were adjusted to the darkness, he could pick out a few fireflies flitting about in the nearby bushes but other than that, nothing else could be seen.

Theilin flinched as he withdrew his hand and examined it, a small droplet of blood was forming on his index finger. "Bloody smith, always making his works the edge of the line." Wiping the blood on his sleeve, he brought his hand back to the hilt and drew out the blade and held it parallel to his body. It came out of the sheath without a sound.

"More beautiful than I thought. No wonder he wanted me to bring it out at the start of Second Watch." Theilin stared at it as he held it up at face level. It shimmered in the high moonlight, reflecting it like a mirror would. He caressed the blade with his right hand, it was smooth and without fracture or mark. He narrowed his brow, surely this must bear the seal of the smith or a prominent noble house.

"I'm not one to argue -and nobody can hear me anyway- so I don't think Furin would mind a bit of practice." Theilin grabbed hold of the hilt with both hands and spread his legs outward, bending his knees and entering a stance common to trained sword fighters. He took several controlled breaths, not moving in the least, and raised the sword overhead, exhaling sharply as he brought it down. He followed it up with what knowledge was in him: a few diagonal cuts and thrusts, an elbow jab and a middle-kick coupled with another overhead slash, moving about while shifting his weight with every blow and lastly finishing it off with a well-placed thrust to the mid-section of his invisible foe, accompanied by a shout.

His body tensed after the practice and he felt warmer from all the movement. He could have sworn he heard something humming directly adjacent to him as he did his routine, something akin to a flying arrow in a monotone pitch. He pushed the thought aside and brought out a small vial stowed in his tunic. Blue liquid sloshed around inside the miniscule container. He unstoppered the vial and poured three drops onto the blade's tip. Upon contact, the whole sword turned a radiant blue; giving off it's own light while illuminating the whole clearing for a brief moment, before slowly returning to it's original luster.

"Marvelous. If there was one blade I was proud of holding, it would be you. What did Furin call you again?" Theilin mused. As if in reply, the blade glinted back, a shadow passed above him. The sound of a body landing on it's feet came from behind.

He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, and a feeling of dread descend upon him. There was something obviously wrong. He felt the presence as soon as he finished his sentence. Theilin drew back and entered his fighting stance while turning to meet his foe. His eyes widened in awe as he met the gaze of a being twice taller than he and just as wide. It was humanoid in form and, against the moonlight, he could tell it was covered in thick fur judging by the way the light reflected. Theilin held the sword in such a way that it's tip was pointing at the beast.

"Who-what are you, creature, and why have you been watching me?" Despite his will, he noted the quiver in his tone, fear.

The creature stood in place for a moment before turning it's head upwards, it looked much like a wolf, but on it's hind legs and covered in loose clothing made personally for such a creature. It regarded him with two eyes that shone the shade of light yellow and spread it's arms out in a gesture. Whether of peace or not, Theilin couldn't guess, but it seemed apprehensive to take a move.

The creature's snout opened and it spoke. Spoke in the dialect of men, though it's words were hard to understand, being mixed with deep tones and a low pitched growl.

"Trespasser! Blight on sacred land!" The tone was hard to distinguish if it was male or female. Still in his position, Theilin saw it raised a clawed hand at him, pointing at the blade. "Watcher of Death. Leave now!"

The human heard several footfalls coming from the entrance of the clearing and turned his head to see them. Three more of the wolf-creatures appeared. Two of them were similar to that in front of him while the one in the middle was wrapped in a full silver cloak, sporting a narrower build but as tall as the rest.

It held up one arm to signal a stop, and spoke to the lone human. It's voice was clearer and more distinct, it was also lighter than the first. "The ritual is finished, man of the free-plains. Your blade has disturbed the peace of those who dwell here. Return to your village and report back to they who sent you."

Theilin was lost; what words that came to his mouth were garbled, he stuttered in the midst of the creatures as he recognized what they were. It was a rare sight to even see more than one, and it seemed he attracted the attention of more.

"Therian, I have no qualm against any of you. Furin said that there would be-"

"Furin? The Smith?" It replied, the edges of it's mouth curling into a grin. It motioned towards the wolf-man at Theilin's side, and turned back to face the human. "It's been a long time since I've heard his name. Send my regards to him, he works a fine blade. Oh, and you're holding your sword wrong by the way. Grasping it by the pommel won't do any good."

Theilin turned his gaze to his hands, it was right. No wonder his left hand felt like holding thorns.

"Thanks for the help but I can do fine without-..."

The man stopped speaking as he turned back to the creatures. There was nothing there, nor were there any signs of their presence in the grass or any figures retreating from his surroundings. His heart was still pounding from the thought of battling with one.

Sheathing his blade, he walked back the path he came; whistling the merriest tune he could think of while his eyes darted to and fro from his surroundings. If the therians could sense the consecration, then who knew what else would have felt it?

He could hear the howling of a wolf in the distance.

I think I've done something very wrong in the one above, being made on the spur of the moment... 

Help?
I'm loving the activity thus far, given how the Creative Projects board being the least active (or so I think) on Bay12.

[Galick]

I thank you for the criticism and I'll answer a few questions about my own story and give yours a few suggestions/criticisms myself!

Spoiler: Mah prologue thing (click to show/hide)

The world does not live in Harmony, like most suspect.  In truth, the world is a fickle thing ran by the minds and wills of those greater than mere man.  This is the One Truth.  Those who's strength and will governs the world, but our Faith and Will govern them.  It is in this small way that we are able to leave our mark in History.

Those who govern us preach the Glories of those they worship - the Elements.  It is these beings that are the true power of the world, for they are the physical beings that make up the true power of that which we Use.  Their effects are everywhere, and they can only grow in Strength if We allow it.  As Humanity, we are the sheep...but we are the sheep who give our Shepard his strength, for without our wool or our mutton He cannot subsist.

The Six Who Are bring Chaos to this world.  But, their existance is the only thing holding our World together.  Ages past, before the Advent we were proud proud creatures.  All were.  Man and Mer and all others.  We grew hateful, we grew spiteful, we grew warlike.  And such a war we waged that the very world was very nearly split in two.  And then the World began to fight back, in objection to being our battleground. 

Six were born, and those Six fought back.  The very Earth we fought on crumbled beneath our feet and surged up to engulf us, our Flames of war grew powerful and surged over us.  The Water we used to cleanse our wounds and quench our thirst turned to blood and acid in our mouths and wounds, festering them further.  Our Power twisted and arced, destroying any engine it was within and all around it.  The very Air we breathed scorched our lungs and blackened our innards.  We sought refuge in the wastes, but even the Ice was cruel.  It crept over us as we slept, stole the life from our weak and injured.  And soon, we cried out for the world to forgive us and it answered.  "For your Crimes, you shall be punished.  Every age, We shall Reclaim what is ours and bring your Empires and Kingdoms to ruin.  Every Age, we shall punish you for your Hubris and Hate.  Every Age, these Six will be born again and shatter all that you hold dear."

Spoiler: Reponse (click to show/hide)

> Don't scratch that itch! Don't let it disappear!

Let your creativity flourish! May it grow!

And revisions are in italics.

> Mysterious prologue, packed with a denouncement of assumed fact and a spicing of something-to-be-unravelled. Nice.

Though, IMO, I think you should put in a tiny bit of comparison there. Despite what you did say, out-of-story wise.

"The world does not live in Harmony, like most suspect."

The world does not live in Harmony, like most suspect. Unbeknownst to the people, what disrupts the peace is ever-present in the media. Stories of death and deviance are apparent their ears. Many overlook the lightest of misdeeds. There exists a hierarchy that governs the peace that we know, and there are minds and wills that govern us all.

This is the One Truth.

. . .

So I tried to expound it...

> Exactly, what world are we talking about? To go into detail (which I don't think is needed, but unsure if I shouldn't post it), the world could be an intangible substance of gas. It could be the nebulous, entropic world of dreams. Maybe, it could be the Earth, our own home.

Or it could be another reality!

> I see you capitalized some common words to give emphasis. I concur with you, good sir. But, I think you need to intentionally make it even more vague. Your opening is in mystery, yes, but it may be better to pull on the rope that holds the reader's eyes. Make them wonder what you're trying to show, going along the lines of: 'What in the world am I reading?! I like it!'

About those capitalized words, you could go around the bush here and try to weave a tale on it. Using other words to describe what you're trying to pertain meaning to, other than going with the generality of Them and what We may typically see. 

> "The Six Who Are bring Chaos to this world.  But, their existance is the only thing holding our World together."

The meaning is continued in the next paragraph. But I see more to these two sentences!

What Chaos is there? How is this 'Chaos' defined? Why should they exist to hold this world together?

Unless...this world is bound by CHAOS!

So I think you can use the first sentence here, and expand it's use. Define what exactly is chaos, as normally this means disorder and a completely random and anarchistic event.

What is your Chaos? What reason must it exist for the world to hold?

> The presence of other species intrigues me. Yes, spoken like a natural. Like they were there and they don't need introduction, good job! But I believe you need to back some parts up with detail. The fear of losing your point or edge/meaning would be firstly apparent, but you can find a way to subvert this.

All your materials are there! Work that itch into a rash!

> Time.

You need a timeline, I guess. As time is mostly relative, how far are those powers' effects and are they quickly influencing the world? Or did it all crumble in a century due to our fast-technological advances? Maybe put in some details on how worldly empires rose and fell, a bit of local lore on the side just to milk the fall of the World.

> The epilogue to that was very well done.

"And soon, we cried out for the world to forgive us and it answered.  "For your Crimes, you shall be punished.  Every age, We shall Reclaim what is ours and bring your Empires and Kingdoms to ruin.  Every Age, we shall punish you for your Hubris and Hate.  Every Age, these Six will be born again and shatter all that you hold dear."

IMO, I think you need to detail out how petty and needy for mercy we are. Adding a bit of how we did it would be nice. Like wearing sack-cloth and kneeling in repentance. Or, crying and praying to the heavens, for the Gods to hear us. Or anything, actually.

Spoiler: As there was no monthly/bi-weekly prompt lately... (click to show/hide)

It was night. There were crickets chirping in the distant underbrush, livening up the setting with their harmonious melody; soon quieted by the sound of leather boots passing through the high grass. A man strode, cloaked in a dark fabric, his arms swung freely by his side as he moved through the forest and he walked as if in peace with the world. He turned his head upwards to gaze at the sky, it was perfectly black, other than the luminescent glow of Naia - the silver moon in her full beauty. The Legend of the Night Maiden filled his thoughts, and he smiled knowing she was watching over her people before turning back to his goal.

He continued along the unbeaten path, enjoying the cacophany of sounds that echoed around him. The presence of natural life was one thing to keep his mind off the goings of the day. His name was Theilin. A man of twenty-two and currently a scout serving in the militia of the town, Fenerof. His body was of broad stature: lean and able in appearance, bundled with well-knit muscle. Against the moonlight, his tanned skin appeared to take on the glow of surroundings, resembling a ghostly visage.

Theilin pulled back his hood, revealing a face not one of a common soldier. He had deep brown eyes and hair as dark as the heaven above, his face was angled at the chin and nose was slightly askew.

The man stopped at a space surrounded by a copse of trees, filled with finely trimmed grass. He could feel a calm breeze sifting through the land, creating minor undulations in the land around him. "Well, here we are," he said to nobody in particular. "The clearing in the glade. Strange place to perform the ritual, but ol' Furin was never wrong before," he continued with a shrug, moving his left hand beneath the cloak.

He felt around for the familiar wolf-headed hilt of the sword while scanning the direct area. His eyes were adjusted to the darkness, he could pick out a few fireflies flitting about in the nearby bushes but other than that, nothing else could be seen.

Theilin flinched as he withdrew his hand and examined it, a small droplet of blood was forming on his index finger. "Bloody smith, always making his works the edge of the line." Wiping the blood on his sleeve, he brought his hand back to the hilt and drew out the blade and held it parallel to his body. It came out of the sheath without a sound.

"More beautiful than I thought. No wonder he wanted me to bring it out at the start of Second Watch." Theilin stared at it as he held it up at face level. It shimmered in the high moonlight, reflecting it like a mirror would. He caressed the blade with his right hand, it was smooth and without fracture or mark. He narrowed his brow, surely this must bear the seal of the smith or a prominent noble house.

"I'm not one to argue -and nobody can hear me anyway- so I don't think Furin would mind a bit of practice." Theilin grabbed hold of the hilt with both hands and spread his legs outward, bending his knees and entering a stance common to trained sword fighters. He took several controlled breaths, not moving in the least, and raised the sword overhead, exhaling sharply as he brought it down. He followed it up with what knowledge was in him: a few diagonal cuts and thrusts, an elbow jab and a middle-kick coupled with another overhead slash, moving about while shifting his weight with every blow and lastly finishing it off with a well-placed thrust to the mid-section of his invisible foe, accompanied by a shout.

His body tensed after the practice and he felt warmer from all the movement. He could have sworn he heard something humming directly adjacent to him as he did his routine, something akin to a flying arrow in a monotone pitch. He pushed the thought aside and brought out a small vial stowed in his tunic. Blue liquid sloshed around inside the miniscule container. He unstoppered the vial and poured three drops onto the blade's tip. Upon contact, the whole sword turned a radiant blue; giving off it's own light while illuminating the whole clearing for a brief moment, before slowly returning to it's original luster.

"Marvelous. If there was one blade I was proud of holding, it would be you. What did Furin call you again?" Theilin mused. As if in reply, the blade glinted back, a shadow passed above him. The sound of a body landing on it's feet came from behind.

He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, and a feeling of dread descend upon him. There was something obviously wrong. He felt the presence as soon as he finished his sentence. Theilin drew back and entered his fighting stance while turning to meet his foe. His eyes widened in awe as he met the gaze of a being twice taller than he and just as wide. It was humanoid in form and, against the moonlight, he could tell it was covered in thick fur judging by the way the light reflected. Theilin held the sword in such a way that it's tip was pointing at the beast.

"Who-what are you, creature, and why have you been watching me?" Despite his will, he noted the quiver in his tone, fear.

The creature stood in place for a moment before turning it's head upwards, it looked much like a wolf, but on it's hind legs and covered in loose clothing made personally for such a creature. It regarded him with two eyes that shone the shade of light yellow and spread it's arms out in a gesture. Whether of peace or not, Theilin couldn't guess, but it seemed apprehensive to take a move.

The creature's snout opened and it spoke. Spoke in the dialect of men, though it's words were hard to understand, being mixed with deep tones and a low pitched growl.

"Trespasser! Blight on sacred land!" The tone was hard to distinguish if it was male or female. Still in his position, Theilin saw it raised a clawed hand at him, pointing at the blade. "Watcher of Death. Leave now!"

The human heard several footfalls coming from the entrance of the clearing and turned his head to see them. Three more of the wolf-creatures appeared. Two of them were similar to that in front of him while the one in the middle was wrapped in a full silver cloak, sporting a narrower build but as tall as the rest.

It held up one arm to signal a stop, and spoke to the lone human. It's voice was clearer and more distinct, it was also lighter than the first. "The ritual is finished, man of the free-plains. Your blade has disturbed the peace of those who dwell here. Return to your village and report back to they who sent you."

Theilin was lost; what words that came to his mouth were garbled, he stuttered in the midst of the creatures as he recognized what they were. It was a rare sight to even see more than one, and it seemed he attracted the attention of more.

"Therian, I have no qualm against any of you. Furin said that there would be-"

"Furin? The Smith?" It replied, the edges of it's mouth curling into a grin. It motioned towards the wolf-man at Theilin's side, and turned back to face the human. "It's been a long time since I've heard his name. Send my regards to him, he works a fine blade. Oh, and you're holding your sword wrong by the way. Grasping it by the pommel won't do any good."

Theilin turned his gaze to his hands, it was right. No wonder his left hand felt like holding thorns.

"Thanks for the help but I can do fine without-..."

The man stopped speaking as he turned back to the creatures. There was nothing there, nor were there any signs of their presence in the grass or any figures retreating from his surroundings. His heart was still pounding from the thought of battling with one.

Sheathing his blade, he walked back the path he came; whistling the merriest tune he could think of while his eyes darted to and fro from his surroundings. If the therians could sense the consecration, then who knew what else would have felt it?

He could hear the howling of a wolf in the distance.

Spoiler: My prologue (click to show/hide)

This is an in-world piece from a holy book to be read when you reach sufficient rank in the world's official church.  It's more truthful than what is preached to the populace, but still not quite right.  I overused capitals to give it an archaic tone, though I think I somewhat failed at that.

As for the world itself...I like to think of it as a form of Sigil from Planescape Torment.  I've taken quite a few cues from there at least.  Multiple sapient species, the world itself is *huge* and a good third of it is covered in a city.

As for the Chaos?  Every age (vague time for a reason) the embodiments of the six elements that empower and protect the world come to life once more and destroy all of man's work in a war to see which Element is dominant for the next age.  They're empowered by the ways Humanity (and all other sentient races) use their power for daily life, from war to convenience.  Fire and Power (Electricity) are the most powerful because of this.  The Elements can't be killed or destroyed by normal means (It'd take a deity to do so.  IE: One on the caliber of creating entire universes at a whim) and if they *were* somehow destroyed, the world would go with them.

It's a very odd mix of high magic and high technology.  Cryogenetic tubes, genetic engineering, cloning, industrialization, factories, etc. etc.  all exist along with the high powered magic of typical fantasy fair.

I'm not going to reference the 'real' world at all during any portion of it because to them, that *is* the real world and the only world they know.  They've been to space (once) but that was one of the things that caused the Elements to wake up the first time so they've decreed that as forbidden.

Anything I didn't answer clearly?

And my review!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

First off, I enjoyed that quite a bit even if a bit more insight into the background would be nice.  There were good hints and very good world building for a short piece, but I have a few nitpicks:

First:  Is him talking to himself so normal?  You could've easily done that as an inner monologue, but you decided to have it be outloud.  Any reason as to why?

Second:  "Who-what are you, creature, and why have you been watching me?" Despite his will, he noted the quiver in his tone, fear.  This sentence bugs me a bit.  It needs something more concrete than just a bit of a quiver that isn't noticeable in the writing itself anyway.  Maybe narrate his personal feelings as the fear rises in him or something?  Just a personal nitpick there.  I just feel it's a tad impersonal.

Third: 
He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, and a feeling of dread descend upon him. There was something obviously wrong. He felt the presence as soon as he finished his sentence. Theilin drew back and entered his fighting stance while turning to meet his foe. His eyes widened in awe as he met the gaze of a being twice taller than he and just as wide. It was humanoid in form and, against the moonlight, he could tell it was covered in thick fur judging by the way the light reflected. Theilin held the sword in such a way that it's tip was pointing at the beast.

My issue is the bolded portion.  Just seems awkwardly phrased.  What's wrong with just twice as tall?

Other than those little nitpicks, I greatly enjoyed that little read!  Please post more!

[Urist McScoopbeard]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

> Use spacing.   Paragraphs are there to separate a whole thought train of ideas from the other trains, without using that power, you end up with a mile-long train wreck of words that needs to be sorted over by the authorities and survivors.

This was an allegory, the eyes are the authorities and understanding is the survivor(s).

> I see you made a preamble on your story. That's good for identification if you get lost and I know it is very useful! (I keep on doing this, and not posting it down, heh.) But if you're aiming for a full blown story, or at least part of one that could be picked up, read and then understood: you should learn how to introduce everything from fluff. This means briefly introducing the setting, time of day if possible, current surroundings and focus of view. More on the focus later.

But what the focus should be on, is primarily the character. The character you're trying to push out and flesh out. Which you did well!

However, while you do use the word 'knight' as the descriptor of your protagonist, I think you should describe how he does look to others. I can think of a thousand knights, all with the name Gerald, but I'm not sure how exactly he looks like. He could be a muscular, trained Hedge-Knight, or a bit stout on the side from the peace. Or he could be like a certain black-armored knight with a broken nose and a snarky attitude...

You did not specify the color of armor, and while the normal steel/iron colored plate comes to mind, I can imagine him in pink and there would be no harm done there or would thinking him as bald and frail. Or if he was in plain clothes or just a surcoat and chainmail. Requesting for more detail, but you did well there.

> On the focus: it is the most important tool you use in crafting a story. It is how you bring the reader's vision to play. How an observer shall see it with their mind's eye. From where I see it, you're doing it from third-person, limited. Good work there! But you need to do more, continuing below.

> Detail, detail, detail.

And, detail.

"...as usual...the day was quite dull"

Aye, the day is dull. But what makes it dull? No, rephrase. What makes it dull from your character's eyes? You, as a narrator, have no power or influence in how the story is played. Just a voice.

So, Sir Gerald, what makes this day dull for you?

> Knights, in history, obey a certain code that distinguishes them from the commoners and soldiers of their era and time. That is the Code of Chivalry. No knight shall lay harm to any innocent or woman. "Bashing someone's brains out" does not sound good, but it does lead to the imagery of an uncaring mercenary, which I guess is what you're trying to put your character out as. And one with respect of nobility, too!

Though, you did repeat "Gerald was a former Hedge-knight" following "Gerald was a knight". Redundancy there.

Plus, the term of 'knights' were used in Medieval Europe. I had a hard time distinguishing them in America   , don't take this sentence as criticism, just my personal note.

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> It may be my inexperience with English wordplay, but I'm not sure if "as per usual the day" would be correct. Semantically, I don't think so, but it may just be how I read. And you misused the comma right after "Gerald" in the first sentence.

'Gerald, looked about him, as per usual the day was quite dull, this was-after all-the first time the council had convened in months, and as expected the usual rivals shouted each other down from across the chamber and the other representatives argued over some fool thing or other.'

"Gerald looked about him, observing the men and women sitting in the stands which towered above him, and turned his head back to staring at the marble floor. It was a dull day once more, the usual arguments were thrown during the session as political rivals played their word-games; as tension rose, so did their voices, leading to nothing more but shouting and noise. The occasional deflection onto a random fool was placed in here and there, but there was nothing new to be gained from all this."

> The " , and as expected..." part sounds like a whole new sentence and thus, a whole new idea. Separate it with a period instead of a comma, unless that is what you refer to by "the day was quite dull".

> In my opinion, the use of the dash was misused there. "This was-after all-the first..."

Commas could be put to better use, and there needs to be spaces before the first and after the last dash.

> I edited a bit, in italics. Hope it helps.

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> "Since the Duke had spread himself so very thinly trying to quell any unrest..."

Ouch, that must really hurt.

So I guess you were referring to the Duke's armies or his Military strength and not his personal and physical body, right?

> If the Count and Sir Gerald were friends for some time, go and show it. A tiny gesture, a nod of the head, a meeting of eyes and a curt signal would all do. Mostly, you can't just say they are friends and leave it like that.

I can say I'm friends with the current reigning dictator of [insert town here], but that would just be what I say. How do I show it?

> Well, the above is what I would have said, if I hadn't missed the "Count Amerisk who gave him a knowing wink from the upper balcony."

Great.

Though, saying it by the word 'wink' would be strange to some. Detail, please.


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Overall, the start is well-off, needs a bit of polishing in detail and who is going to be who. You have a nice set of potential protagonists, an unknown antagonist and an ally to the knight.

Very interesting.

Thanks Tir for the critism, there are, however some things I'd like to point out.

1st.) pfffffffft, hah, you think that's a long paragraph? In anycase, my descriptive paragraphs spare no one and are indeed very long, dialoge-y sections get much shorter though so don't worry.

2nd.) I'd like to clarify some things about the use of the term 'Knight' chiefly that Chivalry is DEAD, what do you think happens on the battlefield, they just ask to be spared? sometimes. But usually you get an axe to the neck. Also the term 'Knight' is quite necessary, I learned a long time ago that there is really no point to calling something something-else if you can call it by its name. How cheesy would the story sound if I said he was a 'land-holder' or something equally silly?

3rd.) Bejebus do I dislike your paragraph structure :l

and finally nice catch for the misued comma after 'Gerald', I didn't even notice.

All in all I learned alot so thanks again for the criticism

now...

COUNTER-CRITICISM muhahahahahaha!!!

I love it, very easy on the eyes.

In the first paragaph though, I feel like your punctuation is a bit off, something just seems...strange about it.

In the second paragraph I think the term 'unbeaten path' is bit awkwardly worded. Do you mean overgrown path or old path?

The only other thing which bothers me is it's flow, the story seems to halt in places (maybe it's just me)

Overall I like it, gave me a very good impression of what was going on.