@John_Smith This will be especially helpful. Chekhov is such a great guy. First working for Starfleet, and now helping us with story telling.
But yeah make sure this is used. If we’re gonna have exposition it has to be relevant soon otherwise the reader will forget it.
Well, I needed to explain what the Offering was all about, 'cause that’s gonna be a thing soon. Maybe I should have changed some of that exposition into some sort of ritual words spoken before the Offering. But that might’ve ended up being clunky, IDK.
Checkov’s gun has more to do with theater, though. A written work doesn’t need to be as tightly focused as a play or movie. And at least some of that exposition will definitely be relevant soon. 
Perhaps, but plays and serials are also alike. Just something to keep in mind.
(I might be biased though. I love theater and use some of the techniques in my writing.)
Try using character’s own thoughts for exposition, instead of awkward conversations - It works surprisingly well… or spread a single subject across the whole thing to make the exposition easier to digest. Just some tips. BTW I agree with Cronk, Chekov is a great mind.
As it just so happens, that’s what happens in the next part. XD I’m gonna go ahead and post it so that first part doesn’t seem so unfulfilling.
Chapter Two
Following his exchange with Llwelyn, Eberhard wandered through the forest to his home. As he walked, he contemplated the day’s events. His defeat by Llwelyn did not bode well, regardless of Llwelyn’s own remarks and Tirem’s praise. He was sure his master was simply attempting to ease the pain of defeat. Tirem knew Eberhard’s life’s ambition was to be the greatest Syrochii warrior since the unknown time. Such a warrior would be certain to win the looming contest with ease. Eberhard had a long way to go before he would be the best warrior in Favauoc, let alone all of Ileway. He wondered if his dream was futile. Perhaps if he were stronger, or had better reflexes, he would have a chance someday. As things stood, his prospects were not promising. His nearly assured defeat in the next day’s fight would likely spell the end of his hopes. Presently, he came upon a small, withered pine tree growing amongst the roots of an ancient oak. Was he like the pine tree, he wondered? Destined to live in the shadow of greatness, but never achieve it himself?
As Eberhard approached his dwelling, fallen leaves crunching beneath his damp feet, he realized that his short hair and the robes he had changed into after the fight were doing little to insulate him from the late autumn cold. He at last reached his abode, a hut built around a tree, and started a fire. The hut was itself little more than a framework of tree limbs, but it sufficed for Eberhard’s spartan needs.
As he sat by the fire, he slowly consumed his repast. His mind wandered to the source of his insecurities. He had no recollection of his parents, who had died the winter following his birth. His childhood was spent being passed from one home to the next. No one wanted a mouth to feed that wasn’t of their own flesh and blood, so the people of Favauoc had decided to take turns caring for him. This meant Eberhard had been raised by his entire village, and yet by no one at all, for he never spent enough time in one house to form familial bonds. Such was his lonely existence. Yet, throughout it all, his friend Llwelyn had been present to commiserate with him. Llwelyn was also an orphan, under the permanent care and tutelage of Tirem. He made sure Eberhard joined Tirem’s band of apprentices as soon as it was permissible. Together, they had studied the Tabocim to the point of mastery. Through the years, and the toil, they had, in a sense, become brothers. Eberhard even grew to see Tirem as a sort of paternal figure. Nonetheless, Eberhard’s lack of a typical family made him feel incomplete. It seemed as though a tiny voice from within constantly whispered doubt into his soul. It told him that, because he was incomplete, forever isolated from others, he could never achieve greatness. It tormented him night and day, refusing all of his efforts to silence it. Still, he persevered. Even if he had no chance of success, he refused to be deterred from making his best attempt.
He considered wandering into Favauoc to seek out some amusement to lift his gloomy mood. At last, he settled for practicing the Tsaeb fighting style on a nearby tree and getting a good night’s rest before the Offering the next day. He failed to notice the comet that had appeared in the sky, directly above his house.
After bidding Eberhard farewell, Llwelyn wandered around the training grounds, pondering tomorrow’s fight. He’d tried to console Eberhard, in hopes of improving his spirits. He knew such efforts were futile, but he felt he owed it to his friend. He was certain Eberhard’s self-doubt was unfounded. His talents far exceeded those of the other apprentices. In truth, he was, in some ways, a better warrior than Llwelyn. Any passing wanderer could ascertain that with ease. Why couldn’t Eberhard himself see it?
As the light in the forest grew dim, Llwelyn wandered home to Tirem’s hut. The path wound through the twisted, deathly tyrgoryn trees, said to have been blighted by the power of Autukam. Eventually, the twisted mass gave way to large, healthy trees that marked the presence of a stream. It was a shallow one with long, rocky shores, which were littered with Minaru. Llwelyn collected the ■■■■■■■■ piece he could find and continued his journey home. He now felt fully prepared for whatever lay in wait beyond the coming dawn.
I like the second part better, however there are few things that concern me. Mainly, it’s the word building. The names are very bland, generic even and they seem to bare no specific linguistic rules - I suggest looking into a SINGLE Language for the naming - using two or more might be risky also make sure that the names sound appealing. Now, don’t get me wrong - the character names are okey, given the fact that most of them already exist but things like [quote=“John_Smith, post:14, topic:29213”]
Syrochii
[/quote]
All have different origin and are insanely hard to relate to.
Looks good!
I admit, I was quite haphazard with the names. This story is something of a hodgepodge of ideas and rewrites going back to about 2009, and the names reflect that–the earliest ones are just things I thought sounded cool, others are English words spelled backwards or made into anagrams, and the ones added for this version are Welsh. I fully intend to replace most of them if I ever publish this for realsies; I also have a (much shorter) movie script version which uses mostly Egyptian names.
Thanks!
I think that’d be a change for the better.
I like where the story’s going, but I can’t help but take issue with this general tendency of telling over showing with the narration, and just a lack of trust in what the audience is capable of inferring. It was a lot worse in the first chapter, with things like Eberhard’s skill and his duel, or the general legend and how it’s just kinda dumped on the audience. The latter really should’ve been simplified into more vague terms and used as a prologue.
The second chapter benefits from being less omniscient and letting us get into a single character, though there are still things like that rather blunt symbolism with the trees that you just kinda spelled out for us.
All in all, I still wanna see where this is going, but I hope to see more trust on your part on just what your readers of capable of picking up on. I’d also prefer more atmospheric environmental details, but that’s a lot more subjective, and it’s not a sin to stick to character thoughts instead.
Keep it up bro.
I think you’re onto something. In the script version I made, I was more careful about not dumping exposition out, and showing the skill of the warriors rather than explicitly stating it. Though I’m not really the biggest fan of prologues–they’re usually not very dramatic. My preferred fix would probably be to expand the early part of the story and include scenes where the critical info comes out naturally in dialogue.
That’s a good point. I think I put that in there because this section (these two chapters plus the next two or three) was originally done as a creative writing assignment, and I was required to use symbolism, so I made it as obvious as possible. XD I’ll think about ways to improve that.
I’ll definitely keep this in mind as I edit upcoming installments.
Interestingly, the friends I’ve shown this story to have said they felt very immersed in the environment. But maybe I can take that farther. XD
Will do!
Update ahoy!
Chapter Three
Eberhard rose early the next morning and made the short journey into Favauoc. The village was thinly spread out, with no two huts nearer than fifty feet from each other. At the center of the village was a huge, gnarled tree with three trunks and outermost branches descending to the ground. The tree served as the village’s temple. As Eberhard approached, he saw that several others had already congregated there. Among them was Llwelyn, dressed in his finest armor, fashioned from leather embedded with bits of metal. Upon seeing Eberhard, he approached him, a pensive look in his eye.
“How fare you?” he inquired.
“Fine,” Eberhard replied.
“I see,” answered Llwelyn, unconvinced by Eberhard’s terse response. “May Agomnan look favorably upon you.”
“And may he do the same to you.”
Unwilling to face his friend any longer, Eberhard moved away, his eyes fixed on the ground. He was troubled enough without having to speak with his friend and rival just before the fight that might determine the course of his life. Then again, at least Llwelyn was a noble warrior. No matter the outcome of the match, they would surely remain friends.
After a few minutes, all the residents of the village had gathered. The two priests of Agomnan appeared in the distance, chanting, their dark robes flowing magnificently as they moved toward the congregation. When they reached the tree, utter silence fell.
“Gathered friends, let us to the great Agomnan our Minaru proffer,” said the first priest in a slow, commanding voice. “Thus shall be at bay kept the One Who Is Nameless.”
Slowly, everyone passed their Minaru forward to the priests, who piled the offerings around the base of the tree. When everyone was finished, there was a great flash of light, and when it passed, the Minaru was gone.
“Now certain is our safety from the One Who Is Nameless,” said the second priest, in a voice similar to the first’s. “Let us now await the words of Agomnan, that his will might be ascertained.”
Suddenly, a vivid red glow began to emanate from the tree. It resembled a fire, but a fire that had only red and no other colors. Though it seemed to come from the tree, its flame-like projections passed through it as if it were a specter. Nothing like this had ever been seen by the villagers before. Agomnan merely spoke, without manifesting himself, when acknowledging their offering. They froze where they were standing and beheld the tree.
“People of Ileway, in the town of Favauoc,” came a deep, sonorous voice from the light. “Ye must needs know of a threat that, unless action swift is taken, spells the doom of ye and yours. The vile Atukam, in his connivery rampant, has a means implemented to render impotent all Minaru. Were I to elaborate on this scheme, ye wouldst not comprehend. Ye have but a hope single: to from Atukam wrest the Tyrup, the only device by which the process reversed may be. There can be but one man, in all the world, who can this mighty deed accomplish; by combat shall he be chosen, and upon fate shall depend his quest. Ye may give him what help ye may, but know this: if the deed is not wrought before passed three Offerings have, no choice will I have but to my protection from Atukam remove.
“But who among you is of such an imperative charge worthy and capable? There is but one means by which selected such a one may be. Two great champions must in lethal combat engage. This, then, is why you were instructed as you were. Proven themselves have the ones known as Eberhard and Llwelyn. Worthy of song shall their match be. Now let commence the battle!”
Man I’m gonna have a hard time reading this. All these weird names distract me from understanding everything. 
Pretty solid and swift plot-thickening.
My only real issue is this one bit of narration:
I just feel like there should a better way to say this IMO
Also, just a smaller nitpick:
I feel like something along the lines of “People of Favauoc, and Illeway beyond” or something like that would be better. “In the town of Favauoc” just feels…weirdly casual-sounding in comparison to the formal, old-fashioned speech the rest of Agomnan’s dialogue uses.
Again, just a nitpick.
Hehe, I added that bit in last night when I realized my existing description was underwhelming. I’ll add that to the list of things to fix. XD
I dunno, it sounds alright to me. Maybe it depends on the intonation you imagine it being said with? Perhaps there’s some way I can make that clearer.
I suppose it’s time to move things forward a bit…
Chapter Four
The crowd gasped. No one had expected the duel to be to the death. Still, the townsfolk spread apart, forming a large circle encompassing Eberhard, Llwelyn, and the tree.
Within the circle, Eberhard and Llwelyn stared at each other in shock. After a long moment, Llwelyn spoke.
“We must execute the will of Agomnan, Eberhard. However abominable it may seem.”
“I can say nothing against that.”
They began to slowly pace each other. After a electrifying moment, the tension that was building up in Eberhard reached a breaking point. He drew his sword and charged at Llwelyn. He wanted this fight to be over as quickly as possible; there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Even defeat would be better than uncertainty.
Llwelyn held his ground and parried Eberhard’s blow with ease. He took no joy in fighting his friend, but he was determined to follow the will of Agomnan. He lunged at Eberhard, who parried and riposted. Not to be outdone, Llwelyn dodged the blow and struck Eberhard’s leg. Doing so heightened his sense of discomfort, but he was not going to hold himself back out of some misplaced sense of empathy. Eberhard lunged again. Llwelyn sidestepped, grabbed ahold of Eberhard’s arm and swatted his sword out of his grasp. He then landed a blow to Eberhard’s face, knocking him over. Lost in the heat of battle, Llwelyn raised his sword above his head, as if to strike a killing blow.
Eberhard watched, stunned, as Llwelyn lifted his blade. There was little else he could do, for his sword was out of his reach. Surely his friend would not kill him? They had been so close for so long. He knew Llwelyn. Or did he?
Llwelyn stood for a moment with his sword suspended above him, then drew a sharp breath. What was he doing? He’d nearly allowed his violent instincts to control him. Disgusted, he cast his blade upon the ground, and knelt before the great tree. “O mighty Agomnan,” he said, “I have done as you have bid. I shall humbly serve you as your champion.”
“Well you have fought, brave Llwelyn,” boomed Agomnan. “But mercy you have shown to your foe. Never shall any champion of mine such weakness display. Only by might will my ends accomplished be. True spirit Eberhard did display. Champion shall he be. You as his retainer shall languish. A lesson let this be, to clemency eschew.”
With that, the red glow vanished from the tree. One could not say things returned to normal, however: in stunned silence, all of those gathered turned to look at Eberhard, and he, most stunned of all, looked back. Llwelyn stood slumped by the tree, stupefied. After a moment, the first priest spoke.
“O Eberhard, thou hast heard thine commandment divine. Dost thou accept thine quest?”
Eberhard’s breath froze, and his body stiffened. He was little more than an ordinary apprentice, he told himself. Llwelyn had trounced him. What special quality could he possess that would make the mighty Agomnan single him out? What power was it that would make him more important than all the villagers surrounding him, let alone Llwelyn? Still, the word of Agomnan was not to be taken lightly. Still shocked, Eberhard stammered out the words, “I accept.”
“So be it. Are there any present who will consenteth to aid in this task most imperative?”
“I will,” came a strong voice from near the back of the crowd. “He will need my guidance if he is to succeed,” said Tirem, Eberhard’s master. “Furthermore, if Llwelyn is to accompany him, I shall feel obliged to give what aid I can, for he is as a son to me.”
“Thank you, Master,” stammered Llwelyn.
“So be it. We shall, with Eberhard’s consent, depart on the morrow.”
“Art thou not rather hasty, Master Tirem?” asked the second priest. “One does not simply walketh into Suratis. There are terrors of sundry kinds scattered for leagues around it, and within are such things as of which are nightmares made.”
“Indeed, much hardship awaits us. But what choice is there? A large band would
surely be too easily noticed. We must proceed as I have said.”
“So be it, Master Tirem,” said the first priest. “On the morrow, we shall mark your departure with much festivity. Until then, hwyl fawr.”
Woo I have like 2 readers left
Chapter Five
With that, the assembly was over. Those present each went their separate ways, eventually becoming, to an observer, lost amongst the trees. Eberhard, who had remained silent for some time now, stayed behind, contemplating his fate. Did this mean he would, indeed, become a great warrior? Or was he merely a tool, a vessel through which Agomnan would act?
Tirem remained behind also, seemingly lost in thought. Eberhard wondered if his master was about to speak to him. Sure enough, after a moment, Tirem approached him.
“This has been a most unusual day,” began the master. “I imagine there is much that troubles you.”
“As much as there are terrors in Suratis.”
“Have you any in particular you wish to discuss?”
“What will become of Llwelyn? He must be outraged that I would be named champion.”
“Llwelyn will come to terms with Agomnan’s decree. Though it is a most puzzling one; ought not a true warrior show mercy to his foes?”
“Perhaps such things are not for mortals to ponder. Who can fathom the will of Agomnan?”
“Few indeed, if any. Still, I am left thoroughly perplexed.”
The conversation continued well into the day, when Eberhard realized he needed to prepare for the journey. He thus returned to his abode, all the way taking note of the familiar sights he would not again behold for some time. Even the most pathetically withered trees and dry creekbeds seemed not so different from old acquaintances he must now part with. When he at last reached his home, he could not stop wondering how long it would be before he returned, if he ever did.
After the duel, Llwelyn slunk into the forest. His world was shaken to the core, and he could not bring himself to face anyone until he had come to terms with what had happened. He bore no grudge against Eberhard; it was not his fault. Agomnan alone was responsible. How could the object of his worship betray him in so jaded a manner? Were not Agomnan’s commands the very foundation of life on Ileway? If Agomnan’s commands could not be trusted, who or what could? For the first time, he thought to question the word of Agomnan. It was still possible that Agomnan was in the right, but no longer would he accept that freely. Dazed, he meandered back home.
That night, Eberhard packed some wild fruits, spare clothes, and an array of weapons into his satchel. As he drifted off to sleep, he could not stop thinking that his death, for all he knew, could come in a matter of days. The only thing that calmed him was the chance that he was not doomed to become merely another faceless warrior. Even if his life would soon be cut short, at least it would be for the most noble cause imaginable. He dreamt of fond memories, and of everything he would miss in the coming weeks.
The next morning, Eberhard awoke early. Despite his worries, he felt strangely calm. His fate was sealed; what more could he do? He chose to spend his remaining time at home wandering in the forest, drinking in every sight and sound, from the shapes of withered, dry leaves, to the atonal songs of the local birds. After a time, Llwelyn appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
“The priests have summoned us for a farewell ceremony. I trust you’re prepared?”
“As prepared as I can be. Though it is you who should be entrusted to retrieve the Tyrup, not I.”
“Perhaps the task requires something more than the prowess of a warrior to complete.”
“That’s not what Agomnan said.”
“I know. But I can do nothing but hope it was what he meant.”
Eberhard, in no mood to accuse Llwelyn of deluding himself, headed off for the village. When he got there, he found all the people arrayed in their best garb. The majority wore tunics made from the bark of the tyrgoryn trees, with leafy crowns on their heads; some of the more prosperous citizens also wore dark flowers, as there were no other plants that looked the least bit decorative. Various activities were under way, such as a game of yweov, a sport which involved jumping from tree to tree in order to place a rock into the opponent’s goal. All Eberhard noticed, however, was the priests and Tirem beckoning him toward the tree at the center of the village.
“Silenceth,” said the first priest. “The time now hath come for us to recognize our prospective saviors. Let us hail to Eberhard, Llwelyn, and Master Tirem, for we shall not again behold their likenesses until their quest its course has run.”
The crowd cheered for several minutes. Eventually, the three travelers said their farewells to the group, and, determination in their eyes, strode away from their home, past the two withered, dead trees that marked the boundary of Favauoc.
Lots of newly created words, yet they don’t bog down the story.
kind of like bio G1 in the beggining
Lol, glad you think so! G2 could take a lesson from me amirite