This is the opening of a book I am writing, based on the game I am making, called Orkmoth. Moddb.com . It's set in a fantasy world called Abundantia (latin for abundance), in the nation of Orkmoth.
Chapter 01; The Blacksmith
"Now, quickly bring the pot", growled the short bearded man. His hand curled swiftly around the worn tongs, and with a careful grip, poured the molten iron into the furnace, heated by a magma chamber which lie below the city. One of the vents, or tunnels, extending from the magma chamber just happened to reach his blacksmith, and was a fine source of heat to smelt weapons and armour. "Just a few more minutes, and another sword for the army will be complete... lad? Where are you my boy?", he bellowed questionably. Furiously, the hairy, pot-bellied man waddled around his cluttered workshop, to the small staircase in the corner. Beside it was a small hatch. "Horro! Boy! What are you doing in here, there is plenty that needs be done..." The young man shrugged, slowly resting his stout face into his thin, bony hands. "17 years, and still... Horro, your mother would have loved to see you now, you're a hard-working lad. And you wouldn't know it, but your mother was a very hard-working lady, one of the best smith's in the city", the bearded man assured. Horro brought his face out from below his hands. "So your mother would love it if you'd come and help out around here!" signalled the bearded man, as he lifted Horro to his feet. Both of the gnomes quickly stumbled into the workshop.
Grawmar Xeroth was a caring, but fierce gnome of Vinewood City, and his blacksmith was none but the best around, perfect for the soldiers staying in the nearby barracks. His son, Horro was a shy, but extremely ambitious gnome, confident enough to take on anything bigger than himself. Gnomes had been the founding race of the powerful nation of Orkmoth, and were tougher than they'd seemed. Horro squirmed quietly toward his father.
"Father?" he murmured.
"Yes, lad?" Grawmar responded unconvincingly.
Horro rushed to his feet and asked breathlessly, "What's it like to fight in the great war". Grawmar hesitantly placed the tongs onto the table. "You know, the war against Seasalk, for the honour of our country," he continued.
"There is nothing honorary in war!" Grawmar roared. Impatiently he continued, "Thousands of soldiers sign up... Supposedly patriotically... Then lose all emotion through the true feeling of war... And once struck, directly, by the power of a blade, fall... Not thinking about their country, not at all, but simply thinking, why?" He silenced, then slowly calmed himself. "That's why you will never be joining, " he finished hastily. Horro sighed. Grawmar stared as Horro fumbled sluggishly upstairs. “It's always war and fighting with boys around here...” Grawmar muttered.
Horro stumbled up the last of the steps, and entered a dull room, in which was simply a bed and a wardrobe, nothing more. In his wardrobe were weapons he used when practising his combat skills, smelted by his father; and right at the back a small dagger, smelted by his mother, and a treasure to him. His bed was made from light oak, and was worn down, though enough to sleep on. Just as Horro got to bed, he heard a shout coming from just outside. He heard a tapping sound, as a rock lightly hit his window, then fell, feather-like, into a pale-faced boy's hands.
"What do you want, Wrawk?" Horro questioned quietly. Wrawk lengthened his arm to his pocket, and yanked out a piece of paper aggressively.
"A new barracks opened just around the corner, we can sign up there and join the Orkmoth 43rd regiment!" he snapped. Horro hesitated awkwardly.
"But, what if..."
"Oh it's fine! Come on, quick!" Wrawk concluded. Horro half-excitedly jumped out of bed, forcing himself into his clothes. He silently shuffled passed his father's bedroom door, and out to follow his friend.
Horro walked hesitantly toward the barracks, with his confident, sometimes arrogant friend Wrawk; whom walked breathlessly with excitement. Nearing the barracks, some Andrians ruthlessly branched around the corner, blocking their path directly.
"Whot woold yoo be doing at this time of night't," one of them yapped. Wrawk stared at them, and stubbornly held Horro back. Avians, often called Andrians, were the main race of the nation of Andria. They were bird-like creatures, human in height and stature. Commonly known to be rude creatures, and those in Orkmoth were often immigrants, who'd usually become gang members, muggers, or performed other kinds of criminal activity.
"We'd be going to sign up for the 43rd regiment," Wrawk responded over-confidently. Both birds impolitely broke down to uncontrollable laughter.
"Bo'o'th of yoo! Yoo, thin, scra'a'wny... children... Joining the war!?" one squawked. Wrawk momentarily stood, glaring viciously, before seizing one of the Avians by the throat. Horro tried helplessly to calm Wrawk, and make him stop, but he squirmed out of Horro's grasp. Wrawk had, by now, tore one of the birds beaks slightly, and had his blood covered fist clenched on it's left eye. The bird, which went on to let out a powerful screech, fell to the floor. The other ran aimlessly down the mist shrouded road. Wrawk broke to his knees, by the body of the unconscious creature. Carelessly, he managed to get to his feet, still facing the body.
“Come on,” he said fearfully, and continued down the road; Horro following hastily behind.
The road ahead had been gloomy, and cold, though eventually, the barracks had come into sight. Upon reaching the door to the barracks, a slit slid open in the door, and weary eyes peered out. A slight moan drained from his mouth as he viciously unlatched the door. He stood. A man, his nose and mouth covered by his rusted chain helmet, however the rest of his body was gleaming, engulfed by a large suit of plated armour.
“Yes, younglings?” he asked, in a weak, yet bold voice. Wrawk twitched with annoyance, before forcing himself toward the guard.
“Younglings! Why...”
“Stop,” Horro interrupted, “we are here to join the Orkmoth 43rd Regiment.”
“Hahaha,” the guard chuckled, “and why would you want to do that?”
“We...” Horro begun, though Wrawk spoke over him,
“We want to fight for Orkmoth!” The guard crouched, now noticing that they were serious.
“Are you sure you can bare the burden of war?” he whispered woefully. Wrawk tensed himself, whilst Horro stood, hesitant beside him.
“Of course,” Wrawk responded heartily.
“Aye then. My name is Omar, Sir Omar Ravenhall. Come with me,” he finished, leading them to a small room with a desk, in order to discuss their training, and preparation for battle.
Horro and Wrawk were each passed a piece of paper with a red seal.
“Right... I'll see you both here tomorrow at 6:00am sharp” Sir Ravenhall instructed. Wrawk turned to him sturdily to respond, whilst Horro stood nervously beside.
“Of course, sir”, he assured. Sir Ravenhall lead them through the cracked wooden floored hallway toward the door. Brick walls halted beside them, as they walked through the passage, their arms brushing against large plants in decorated pots. Ravenhall slowly twisted the doorknob, gently swinging open the door, allowing them to exit. Wrawk quickly rushed off down the misty road, into the distance, leaving Horro to walk home alone. As he turned the corner, he noticed the same Avian. Horro hesitantly jumped behind a hedge to hide, though the bird had already seen him.
“Kid! Yoo are go'o'ing to'o die”, he squawked, before continuing, “today's the, the, day yoo'll be killed by me'e, Vurr Don Grye.” Vurr swooped towards Horro with a circular weapon, swamped with spikes; missing as Horro jumped up, before climbing some vines up the side of a grey-bricked manor house. Vurr followed behind, as Horro jumped from one house to another, across the tiled, red rooftops. Horro slowly dragged closer, and closer into Vurr's grasp. Vurr reached out with his sharp, razor-like claws to Horro's shirt. Horro dropped his arms down, to wield a brick, which he launched at the versatile roofing below him. Catastrophically, the roof whined, before giving in, and collapsing below them. Vurr fell helplessly, before being incapacited by the rubble falling upon him. Horro, however, jumped stealthily across the falling bricks before halting upon a lush, green hill beside cottages which had lined the misty roads. After breathing; refreshed, he walked silently towards the cottage of which his father slept relentlessly. Horro sneaked heftily through the ancient wooden doors, and up the creaking stairs of the blacksmith, then back into his room.
Horro let out a sigh of relief as he trod upon the top stair of the blacksmith, where he forced open his bedroom door carefully. There, Grawmar stood, with a questioning look upon his face.
“Well then... where have you been?”, he conversed.
“I...” Horro was interrupted by Grawmar, who continued,
“I saw you run off down toward the barracks.” Horro stumbled before revealing himself.
“Yes, father. We signed up for the 43rd regiment,” Horro responded innocently.
“Eh... I...” Grawmar stopped as Horro interrupted,
“I am old enough to make my own decisions father!” Horro was tense, unlike usual, before calming himself.
“I... I tried. Your mother didn't want... Ahem, I'll see you at dawn then,” he finished. Horro fumbled, upset and annoyed, upon his bed, slowly lying his head to a rest.
****, you really put some thought into your world, go as far as to make maps and what not. Good job man, really. I don't even care if it's published, i'd like to read the rest of the book and see all the information i can on this world.
Now onto the story. You defiantly have some skill, as the images and visualizations i imagined were pretty clear, and interested me. Especially since the characters in this are Gnomes (or at least three of them), you never hear about them you know? I mean besides like fairy tales or something like that, but that was clever, and totally grabbed my attention that much more with them being characters. Your dialogue too was really well done i thought, flowed and everything, just as most of your text did, even the Avians (Andrians, creature you made up? or a established mythical creature?) dialogue was clear but unique and interesting in how you did it. It caught me off guard at first, but was pretty easy to understand what was being said. Also, i really like how your characters stories already in motion! how he makes this decision to go join the 43rd even after his dad told him not too.
Now onto my gripes, which are few. There are really only four i could find that bothered me. And i guess you could make a case that three of them are more or less the same gripes, just in three different spots. The worst they really did was just confuse me somewhat, and took me from the story, but its no difficult fix.
the first i have is at the beginning, when the dad Grawmar is talking to his son about how he's so much of hard worker, much like his mother. But i get a little confused about who's talking in parts of the talk. Same with some of the dialogue when Horro ask's his dad about the great war. Its just a little unclear as to who's talking and when, at least to me it was.
The second is the same problem, (being a little clear who's talking) but also another problem, im a little fuzzy as to what happened and when during the street confrontation with the Andrians, such as Wrawk rips off one of the things beaks? I just wasn't sure what was happening there, but no big deal, i would say its just the sentence structure and how you worded it could maybe be changed around a bit to make things more clear. Though of course its your story, and you should do only what you want to it, when you want.
The third ( i know this is out of order) is it's unclear what's happening when Wrawk gets horros attention. i understand he threw little pebble like rocks (or 1 pebble like rock) at Horro's window, but i found that scene somewhat confusing with the action and what not. Once again, its no big deal, alls ya got to do is go back and clean up some of the text, or not clean up, but make the action more clear.
now the fourth and final thing i found is (i suppose) up the the writer. And if that's the way you write, then don't change it! I don't really believe there is (or there should be) any set way for writing, and there should always be new styles that writers like that should spring up, but still, this felt a little weird to me. When your describing how the pebbles hit Horro's window;
"Tap!", a rock lightly hit his window, then fell, feather-like, into a pale-faced boy's hands.
i feel that you could word it so that you simply say "Horro heard a tapping at his window\" or something like that (Maybe?), possibly also including how it's the pebble thats tapping his window instead of saying "Tap!" in the text.
actually, come to think of it, that's the sentence that confused me for my third gripe, so 3 and 4 are kinda like one in the same
(oh yea, btw here;
"Wrawk had, by now, tore the beak on one of the birds,"
do you mean Wrawk tore the beak OFF one of the birds? or he tore the beak ON the bird? Some of what i was talking about in number 2)
Anyways, that's my two cents. I believe you have talent, honest and no joke, and would say all you gotta do is clean up some of your text (basically mikey mouse bull crap) and it'll flow well with the rest! Keep writing, and keep critiquing, and i'm looking forward to more information on this world.
Thanks! :)
I actually hate it when people write "tap" or "boom" for sounds... so I don't know why I did it, I probably got into writing it and forgot, so I'll probably change that. I agree with your first three points too after re-reading it, and I think I did the same thing again in some of it I wrote today, but I'll clean it all up :D
The Avians are a bird race (Avian comes from the word Aviary). If you would like to see more about the world, I have begun uploading the 'lore' for the game (Information on each nation) to the game's page. However it may spoil the novel, I dunno... :P
Also, just in-case you wanted to know, I was planning on the book being a novel (80000-100000 words, probably the lower end).
wholy crap, damn, 80000-100000???
i'm writing a 40k book, got the first three chapters done so far, have no idea where its gonna be to end tho :/
gotta clean it up like crazy, but anyway yea, im glad you posted, and ill think i might sneek a peek into the moddb page for it
So, Green's covered most of what I'm going to say, but I've got a couple of things to add. First up is what seems to be my favourite comment, and that's that paragraphs are needed. In your case, I can see where you meant to put paragraphs but the formatting got messed up. My advice is to use the preview function to make sure that the formatting works and then add in the indentations for each paragraph as needed.
Secondly, still looking at the paragraphs, it seems like you're using double spaces to signify a change in location/POV, but it's pretty inconsistent. For example, you don't need the double space between where Horro and his father enter the forge and the description of Grawmar. There's not a large enough change in location or POV to warrant it, so it's not needed and detracts from the overall layout. An example of where it was used correctly is the transition between Horro leaving the house and his arrival at the barracks.
One final thing: you've obviously put a bit of thought into the world, but it would be good to see that same sort of detail in the writing. We're not really given a description of what any of the races mentioned so far look like, beyond the fact that Andrians have beaks, feathers and, presumably, bird style eyes. A brief description of both races, their general roles in the country that they're living in (I'm assuming that Orkmoth is gnomish) and how people tend to view them would be handy, and it means that you only need to mention those things again if there's something unusual about one character or another. It would also help to explain why Wrawk starts a fight with the Andrians for no reason other than that they laughed at him. Given his behaviour, either Andrians have a pretty bad reputation, gnomes have a fierce temper and put a lot of stock in honour, or there is something really wrong with Wrawk. It would be good know if what we're seeing is culturally acceptable or the act of a psychopath.
The lack of description goes deeper than that. At the start of the story, Grawmar is pouring molten iron into the forge. Why is he doing that? How did he get the iron melted to begin with (aka why is his forge capable of getting to temperatures that only water-powered furnaces are capable of? Magic?) and what purpose does pouring it in the forge serve? It's a waste of good iron to be pouring it all over charcoal, after all.
In another vein, there seems to be sentences or even paragraphs missing. One moment Horro hears a pebble hit his window and the next he is talking to Wrawk and, going by the text, seeing him, but yet we never see him wonder who threw the rock, conclude that it must be Wrawk and go over to the window. We also don't get a good description of Wrawk. Is he a gnome (I'm assuming he is), how old is he, how long have they been friends, what does he do for a living, what does he look like, etc? Detail is very important in stories, because it's the only way the reader can visualise things.
So, yeah, that's about it.
Oops, read this, then took all the things you said, and made a couple improvements; but forgot to reply to you :)
Thanks for this detailed, critical review, it really helps !
UPDATED the post. Whatcha all think ? :D