The Untitled Story - by Sirion of Sirion

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The Untitled Story - by Sirion of Sirion

Postby Sirion » Fri Jan 06, 2006 3:12 pm

The main character of this story is named the same as my site name, or more my site name is named so after him. Read, of course, and comment if you wish to.

Prologue


Dew fell like tiny droplets of rain from the high treetops; songbirds and forest toads singing out into the early morning air, welcoming the sun as it took its place above the horizon.

The pleasant noises of the Lunari Forest were broken as arrows shot from the trees, their white swan feathers flashing in the sun’s scattered gaze. As if in retort, a wave of arrows sailed out from the other side of the wide running stream, almost a river though not as deep, that separated the Center Wood from the Border. The arrows were black, sleek and cruel, in such a way that matched even the glorious arrows of the moon elves.

As Sirion knew they would, the dark elves broke cover and ran forwards, while some of their brethren stayed behind to continue their ranged assault on the now charging moon elves. The two sides came to a glorious, resounding collision in the center of the wide stream, the archers on both sides now aiming for each other as the melee combatants dueled far below.

“Send in the reserve,” Sirion said. He needed to get back to Prince Caeldir. If he spent too long against this one raiding party, he wouldn’t make it in time for the Prince’s birthday celebration. That he could not miss, being Caeldir’s personal bodyguard and assistant. “We need to end this quickly.”

An officer near him whistled shrilly, the sound reverberating throughout the impossibly high branches. After only a moment’s lapse, a second party of moon elves broke cover and began their work at clenching the dark elves in a pincer with their fighting brethren.

Sirion sighed. The dark elves had plagued the western Border for almost a century, which was near how old Sirion was.

“One hundred and twenty one,” he murmured, recalling his most recent birthday. Caeldir had presented him with the most amazing blade Sirion had yet to see; it rested now at his hip, with a foot long handle of wood wrapped in green leather. The cross guard was shaped in the likeness of bronze vines, which twisted their way up the first half foot of the blade itself, the shimmering steel clear and bright, and sharp as a dragon’s claws. Sirion rested his hand on the hilt, fingers caressing it lovingly.

It had already served him well in his defense of the western Border, which was his given duty, aside from protecting the prince. There were three other border Captains, though none of them carried the burden of a second duty as great as Sirion’s.

The elf stood calmly atop a small rise to the side of the stream, where the skirmish was even now settling out as the dark elves pulled back, their archers all but diminished. Several officers stood around him, as calm featured as he, but he knew that they were, as was he, eager to be in the fighting with their kin. They all knew, however, that there were strict orders to stay out of the battle until Sirion joined, and he could only join when—if—the battle became larger and more dangerous to Lunariel’s protection.

Sirion smiled as he thought of the pride of the moon elves: Lunariel, the city of the Moon; Bright, vibrant, and flourishing as it melded smoothly with the natural world.

The battle drew to a close, but it was some time again before Sirion moved from his place on the rise. Without a word he turned and walked away, officers following and soldiers melting into the forest.
Lunariel, indeed the entire Forest of Lunari, was in great danger, and Sirion was one of the few who knew it to be so. All of the royal families knew it, and Sirion, being as close as he was to Caeldir, knew it also. Every elven being could tell something was amiss, but thought it only as the normal raids that the dark elves pushed for. There were rumors through the Families that told of something more, of a greater purpose.

He just hoped they were wrong.
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Postby A_Simple_Poet » Sun Jan 08, 2006 6:52 pm

Evening, Sirion.

I am a simple poet and have chosen to humbly critique your piece as you write it as long as you don't drop off the fact of the earth. Please understand that everthing I say is meant to be constuctive, take it as you will. I am a bit odd myself (if you ever visit my thread in The Bird) you'll figure that out, and I have quite a few opinions about how dull and boring fantasy writing has become. With that in mind, and NOT saying your piece is by any means BORING, I use a proactive and unique almost wistfully eccentric approach to critiquing. I am no good with spelling or grammar but I will babble about imagery and technique so here goes... :shock:

Dew fell like tiny droplets of rain from the high treetops; songbirds and forest toads singing out into the early morning air, welcoming the sun as it took its place above the horizon.


Best lines of the narrative thus far, I thought, though I am of the opinion it does not serve as the best way to open the story. I think personally if there is going to be an action sequence, open it with action directly.

As if in retort, a wave of arrows sailed out from the other side of the wide running stream, almost a river though not as deep, that separated the Center Wood from the Border. The arrows were black, sleek and cruel, in such a way that matched even the glorious arrows of the moon elves.


Okay. The arrows that come back. I think that maybe if you work them being sleek and cruel by describing them that way as they bury their sharp tips into mounds of moon elvish flesh might be a bit more effective then merely describing their appearance. Give us the bloody reality of the force of these arrows, and you do not necessarily have to use gore to do so. Maybe it can evoke a memory in Sirion, or some other way because too much gore is over done too. But something about them being just sleek and black bugged me, they can be more then that...


“Send in the reserve,” Sirion said


and

“One hundred and twenty one,” he murmured


Sirion seems not to be a very wordy elf because this is the only dialogue, aside from a shrill sounding elf, found thus far. I also get the sense that Sirion is a bored officer who finds his opponents not to be so much of a threat that he can daydream about missing a birthday bash for the Prince. If this is the effect you are going for with regard to his characterization, I say well done. Elves by nature are not wordy creatures, but I still feel more of Sirion's character can be revealed through dialogue rather than exposition. Fantasy stories are guilty of far too much exposition, I would urge you to "make it new". If Sirion isn't doing the talking maybe some yapping lieutanant of his can reveal more of why Sirion doesn't like talking in the ranks by you revealing Sirion's disdain for his yapping lieutanant. Something like that.

the entire Forest of Lunari, was in great danger, and Sirion was one of the few who knew it to be so. All of the royal families knew it, and Sirion, being as close as he was to Caeldir, knew it also. Every elven being could tell something was amiss, but thought it only as the normal raids that the dark elves pushed for. There were rumors through the Families that told of something more, of a greater purpose.


This sense of urgency felt by Sirion does not match the casualness he seems to wear in the battle. Though I like how you put it in here near the end of the battle. Still, maybe some in battle body language or nervousness by Sirion (unless you are attempting to portray him as the cool, calm leader) would do well to add suspense for the reader as to what the suspicion might be. Play on these rumors, leak a few of them to us just to whet our whistle.

Otherwise, it is not too bad. If you hate my critiques let me know and I'll shut up for good. :)
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Postby Sirion » Sun Jan 08, 2006 7:21 pm

Thank you for critiquing, Poet. I see your points are well done, and I take them into consideration.

I agree on the arrows, as well as the action, but starting with calm and then the sudden burst of action has always been a passion of mine...though maybe I can make that sudden burst a bit more impacting?

On the topic of Sirion, I had not meant to portray him as a bored officer, but he has a duty to Caeldir, which I get to more on in the next chapter. I like your points, and I shall try them out and see if they fit. I would say Sirion is a calm leader, but the supposed danger it is in I have already planned to be revealed later.

Thank you for the critique. I would be thankful if you were to keep up your critiquing, as I find it very good. I will have the next chapter up maybe...mid-week or so. The latest would be next Saturday, just because of tests this week, but other than that I should be able to get it done and up fairly quickly. Thanks again, Poet.
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Postby Sirion » Sun Jan 08, 2006 7:21 pm

Woops. Accidentally double posted. Is there a way to delete these kinds of posts?
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Postby A_Simple_Poet » Sun Jan 08, 2006 7:27 pm

Don't mention it, I am always up for presenting my beffudled takes on this and other worlds... I shall try to keep up with your story as shcool begins also for me this week.

And if I ever do get At Tyrant's Court up and running (elsewhere in the Scriptorium) ...though it is looking doubtful, do feel free to savage my fiction as well.

You can also find poetry (both mine and others) and other zany antics at A Simple Poet & Friends in Talk. We can be a bit brutal over there (more so then the nice Bards in Alliances) but that is out of mutual respect for literature as an art (it's not your ordinary thread but heavy with lit emphasis...and that is all I have to say about that)

now on with your story.... :lol:
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Postby *yona* » Wed Feb 08, 2006 10:56 pm

Hello Sirion! Are you going to put more of the tale up on here? I would greatly enjoy reading further. Please post on!
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