• A Novel I'm Working On
    4 replies, posted
I've been working on a fantasy novel about a young orc embarking an an epic journey with his companions. I've decided to write at least 2 pages a day for a year, which should lead to around a 600-700 page novel. Here's what I got so far: [QUOTE] “Well, look what we have here!” As she was thrust to the ground, Karradine knew she was in deep on this one. She had been in trouble before, but never bound and gagged as she had been this time. “We caught this little one snooping around outside camp!” Commander Jamhand reported to the Warchief. “A spy! From the Delari clan! Those sneaky dogs!” the Commander howled. “What shall we do with this one, Warchief?” The Warchief rubbed his stubble, contemplating what to do with the Delarian intruder. The young Krommashian orc was halfway back to camp when he heard the commotion. As the setting sun reflected softly off of the orc's blood red skin, the small arachnid on his shoulder gave a shrill squeak. “I know, Spindar, they've no doubt caught another one,” he said in a rather soft voice that contrasted his bulky build. He flicked his brown hair back and set off toward camp. When he had come to the gathering of Krommashian orcs, he pushed his way through the crowd to the source of all the yelling. There, he saw a young Delarian orc, about 16 years of age, lying on the ground, bound in rope and gagged with a cloth. Her light blue skin clashed deeply with her fiery red hair, and her build was much less muscular for an orc of her age. Her brilliant orange eyes darted back and forth between the Commander, the Warchief, and the young orc who had just now entered. Eventually they met with the orc boy's, which were a soft green, unusual for one of his race. They locked for a brief moment before returning to the Warchief, but in that brief time, the orc boy saw a deep fear in her eyes, and he just knew she was in some major trouble. “Ah, Cleago! Just the boy I wanted to see!” the Warchief said to him. The Warchief thought very highly of his 17 year old son. “What is it you need from me, father?” the young orc asked, although he already knew the answer to that question. “Well, as you can see here,” said Warchief Ironheart, pointing to the girl, “we caught a Delarian spy sneaking around outside camp.” “And this concerns me how?” Cleago answered back. He had been called to his father on this matter many times before, but never for a member of the opposite sex. “You know how,” his father said. “She has to be punished, and it's your duty as the future Warchief...” “...To execute said punishment, I know,” said Cleago. And how he dreaded those words! Spies were, by default, punished with one thing: death. Cleago had executed several spies in his days, and he had hated doing it every time. Unlike his fellow Krommashians, Cleago wished that the two clans would simply leave each other alone, if not thrive together in peace. However, he wouldn't dare tell his father that, for fear of abandonment, or worse, exile. He looked at the young Delarian girl long and hard. Never had he been faced with the task of executing a female. He fought with himself for a while, struggling for a way out of this. If he could not save the young girl, then he could at least get out of the task of killing her. Suddenly, he had an idea. “Father, after giving it some consideration, I have come to the conclusion that this life need not be wasted.” Gasps were heard all around, and the Warchief looked shocked, an expression he rarely wore. “And how do you expect to do that, Cleago?” Commander Jamhand snarled. Jamhand had hated the young orc since his early childhood when he was proclaimed the successor as Warchief, an honor reserved for his most trusted Commander (so long as the Warchief didn't have any children). “...A slave. She can be my slave.” The gasps quickly turned to whispers as the shock on the Warchief's face grew even more. “A slave?! What on Ezrealm do you need a slave for?!” the Warchief demanded. “Think of the implications, Father. We could learn a few secrets about our enemies from this girl, and killing her would seal those secrets off for good. Besides, I need someone to tend to the house. So, what say you, Father?” Cleago said. The Warchief gave it a moments thought, before making his announcement: “Fine. You may do with her as you wish. But be warned: don't get too serious with this girl, or she may end up like your mother,” he said with a wink. Cleago felt a surge of relief go throughout his body. The whispers faded into grumbles, and as the crowd dispersed and everyone returned to their tents, he slung his still struggling slave over his shoulder and headed back toward his house. He still had a lot of things to figure out. What was the Delarian girl doing snooping around outside camp? More importantly, what was he going to do with her? For most Krommashian orcs, rape and murder was not beyond consideration when it came to prisoners. For Delarians, they weren't so lucky. Their captives ended up slaves to tyrannic magic wielders, who often used them for experiments in the arcane arts. Cleago was many things, but cruel wasn't one of them. There would be no torture, or even harsh slave punishment as long as he was in charge of this girl. As he walked home, he started scheming different ways to deal with her. He thought about letting her go, but then she could release vital information about the Krommashians which could jeopardize the whole clan. By the time he had reached his front porch, it had been settled within his mind: he was to keep the girl captive, but only have her do light work around the house. Now, it was not unusual for orc boys coming of age to have their own tents, but Cleago had a whole house to himself. As he opened the front door, he realized that he would have to untie his newfound “slave” and explain his situation, a task that would be far from easy, no doubt. So, he worked his way up the stairs to his bedroom and placed her on his bed. Sensing much trouble in her eyes, he whispered in her ear, “Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you.” He removed the gag from her mouth. At first she remained silent, but as he started to unbind her hands, she cried out, “Salamandri Dispersia!” Spindar shrieked as a fireball formed in Karradine's hands, burning the rope and shooting out, only to leave a small dark crater where there had once been wood in one of the beams of Cleago's house. Karradine jumped up and started to run toward the stairs, but Cleago was bigger and faster than she was, blocking her way to freedom. She yelled, “Mandrake grant me power!” and started beating against his chest, but the strength-enhancing spell was useless against Cleago's muscular build. As she grew tired, Cleago grabbed hold of her wrists and thrust her against the bed. Quickly, he tied her right arm to the top-left bedpost to ensure that she would cause no more trouble. “What is wrong with you?!” Cleago growled at her. “I told you I mean no harm!”[/QUOTE] So, Facepunch, what do you think? Anything I could improve on?
I'd describe the scenery around the setting more, like how Lovecraft introduces a situation by introducing the eerie surroundings or ambient sounds and details to enhance the story. So far it's alright.
Like the guy above said, get into the scenery more. You do a great job of painting a picture of the orcs in my head, which is impressive, considering their non-human natures, now try and do the same for the surrounding. I'm imagining all this occurring in some random dustbowl at sunset because that's really all you give me. One more thing, your diction fluctuates between rudimentary and overly flamboyant ("gave it a moments thought...making his announcement"). You don't always have to use the longest word, but you don't have to pick the shortest one, either. It can be very difficult to pitch upon exactly the right word you need, but once you figure out how to do that a solid 60% of the time, you'll be on your way to great writing.
more erotic plz
[QUOTE=The Winner;29480164]more erotic plz[/QUOTE] You're right, I should totally improve on the relationship between Cleago and his pet spider. [QUOTE=GoldenGnome;29480100]Like the guy above said, get into the scenery more. You do a great job of painting a picture of the orcs in my head, which is impressive, considering their non-human natures, now try and do the same for the surrounding. I'm imagining all this occurring in some random dustbowl at sunset because that's really all you give me. One more thing, your diction fluctuates between rudimentary and overly flamboyant ("gave it a moments thought...making his announcement"). You don't always have to use the longest word, but you don't have to pick the shortest one, either. It can be very difficult to pitch upon exactly the right word you need, but once you figure out how to do that a solid 60% of the time, you'll be on your way to great writing.[/QUOTE] Kinda funny considering that random dustbowl at sunset is exactly what I was trying to convey. :v: So, could you provide an example as to how I could describe the scenery? I'm not very good with scenery.
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