Chapter 1
Rowan

Lush green hillside filled his vision as he raced onward. The shining white mare beneath him flew across the rolling plains with its ivory mane flowing in the rushing wind. Rowan drove is heels into the horse’s sides and whipped the reigns willing the swift steed onward to a greater pace. His green cloak flowed out behind him and billowed in the wind like a sail and his basket-handled rapier clacked at his side as the horse surged onward.
The fruitful blossoms of early spring filled his nostrils and the glorious sun shone upon him with warmth only slightly hindered by the gloomy clouds of winter. For two months, he had been forced to stay inside his uncle’s castle waiting for the day when he could roam the countryside and explore the vast plains and forests that filled his uncle’s lands.
Now, finally free, he had saddled his favorite horse, Irwhite, and set on a long and swift ride through the country. Three forests bordered his uncle’s land, separated by six valleys each of which held a large lake. Rowan had seen the western and southern forests from the front and three of the blue lakes. Golok, the warrion, had warned him about the forest to the north. Much darkness lurked there that preyed on any who drew nigh.
Rowan had thought of this from the time he left until now. He had heard many stories of the evil of old but he had never seen anything that resembled the creatures of those tales. His face loosened and his eyes smiled. One day. One day he would find his heart’s desire. Those that once dwelt with man still resided in the earth. He wished to find one of these and befriend it.
Rowan pushed this out of his mind as he neared what seemed to be another castle. The previous summer, his uncle had spoken of a neighbor to the east named Pulgin. Pulgin lived with his wife and son in solitude away from other men and warrions. They lived a simple life and appeared only when a need arose. Many rumors surrounded these people. Rowan smiled as he recalled a certain conversation between two men in the town.
“I went to that castle on the hill last night and there were three figures in black cloaks dancing around a blue fire.” The first man said. He was a head taller than his companion. “I think they are worshipers of the Shadow.”
“I went there last week looking for help when my son was sick and I was attacked by a huge goblin as tall as a man and wielding a curved sword. It almost devoured me.” The second man said with an eccentric look in his eyes.
Rowan laughed in silence as they went on and on spinning gruesome tales of the castle on the hill. He knew that none of these were true. He had befriended Pulgin’s son, Garth, before the rains had begun and had spent a great deal of time with him while the season poured down its blessing upon the outside world.
A solid stone wall bordered the whitewashed castle and reflected the soft sunrays with scintillating beauty. Rowan made his way through the main gates and up the long path that led to the castle itself. Willow trees lined either side of the path shading it from the bright sunlight. Rowan loved the trees. Many in the village and elsewhere claimed that trees had a mystical presence and were indwelt by some fair creature. In another time, this had been somewhat true. The trees were not magical. But something had once made its home in them.
Rowan sighed with longing to see that which had once dwelt with man. All that remained were the burly and loud race of warrions. They cared for nothing outside of war and killing. Heavy armor and large weapons adorned every one of the creatures. Their large, ruddy faces were always dark and imposing with a frown plastered over every mouth. They never smiled, never laughed. Rowan found it difficult to befriend these creatures for their rude and foul ways.
Pushing this from his mind, Rowan gazed ahead to find that he had reached the end of the long path and was nearing the castle gates. Huge and foreboding, they stood like ominous guards protecting all that lay within the walls. Above the great oaken doors were two stone gargoyles carved into the wall. Rowan glanced at these and then averted his gaze swiftly. He had never cared for creatures of shadow. Their frightening appearance had always given him a feeling of shivering cold.

One night when he was a child, he had ventured out of his father’s house in the country-side and went very close to a forbidden piece of the forest. All was very quiet. Even the wind was absent. Rowan loved the stillness. Silently, he sat down and stared into the darkness of the forest. That was when he saw something that shimmered and shone dimly in the gloom just beyond the tree line. Rising from his sitting position, Rowan approached the small shining thing.
He found that it was a stone, transparent and glowing hanging from a thin thread. Rowan admired the object and walked round it for a better angle. His eyes reflected the ldim light like two deep, dark pools. He wanted it. But just as Rowan reached out to grab it, his father and a huge Warrion named Cecil rushed out and shouted at him to stay away.
“But I want the stone Apa.” Rowan replied.
“Son, come to me quickly. Run!” His father said in an anxious voice filled with worry. Rowan noticed that he carried his rifle. Cecil wielded a huge bow and a sword rested across his back.
“Rowan, get away from there! Now!” His father had almost shouted.
Rowan’s shoulders fell and he reluctantly turned and walked back towards his father. Tears formed in his eyes. He had not meant to make Apa angry.
“I…” But he was cut short. A tremendous boom shook the air followed by an unearthly shriek. He looked up and saw his father holding the gun with the butt placed firmly against his shoulder and the long barrel smoking. Rowan turned, and to his horror, came face to face with a giant, salivating spider. Covered in black fur, it hung from the trees by another thread. Its face would have been menacing with long razor-sharp fangs had it not been nearly blown away by his father’s musket round.
Rowan screamed and bolted towards his father. Cecil drew his arrow as far back as he could and then released the deadly dart straight into the enormous abdomen of the beast. Another shriek erupted from the bloodied creature before it thumped to the earth dead, its legs immediately curling under its body.

Rowan had never forgotten that night. Never again did he venture into the dark places of the forest. Two weeks later his father had joined a hunting party to track down a black creature that had attacked a farmhouse and never returned. Rowan and his mother left the small town and moved to his uncle’s house here in Crefon.
Rowan shook his head and snapped back into the present time. Turning his head, he noticed three surglans working in the large, beautiful garden. Rowan nodded to the little creatures and made his way to the courtyard where his horse was taken by a servant to be brushed and watered.
“Rowan, how good of you to come. Welcome.” Garth stood at the head of the regal stairs that led up into the main hall dressed in a blue tunic, rough leather boots black as soot and a trench coat that barely held above the floor. This was also black and embroidered about the pockets with elegant white designs.
They greeted one another with an embrace and made their way inside. “You must excuse the workers. They did not know of your coming. I have prepared refreshments. Come.” Garth walked along swiftly.
Rowan followed his generous host through the main hall. The vaulted ceilings reached high above Rowan’s head and were covered with paintings of strange being in an unknown forest singing with birds, laughing with the animals, and swimming in the ponds. Rowan always wondered what the picture meant.
Ahead of him were two flights of stairs parallel to one another leading up to a vast second floor. The floor and stairs were made of ornate, black marble and the rails of the stair were of oak wood. They passed out of this room and into another spacious room with a large wooden table, probably cherry wood, and twenty chairs set round it. This room was not as great in size as the previous room but it held an openness that could easily hold thirty men.
After this, they entered into the kitchen where a heavy cook worked diligently humming to herself and paying careful attention to three steaming pots, ladle in hand. Her concentration was broken, however, when she heard Garth enter. Rowan watched bemused as she spun and glared menacingly at the young man instantly annoyed at the intrusion.
“What business do you have in my kitchen Master Garth?” She asked with a cautious edge. She raised her right hand brandishing the wooden ladle in front of her as if it were a sword.
“I merely wish to have a morsel of your excellent cooking Cara. My friend and I are slowly perishing of hunger. Our last wish is to have our mouths filled with your glorious provisions.” Garth folded his hands together and made a pleading gesture, his face filled with longing. Rowan suppressed a laugh although he could not tell if Garth was serious or only jesting. Cara narrowed her eyes and waved the ladle at the mischievous charmer.
“You only ask kindly when you want to go behind my back and steal my precious cookies.” She said with a look that would make any culpable child confess his guilt.
“How could you say such things? I assure you, I have no such desire. My only hope is that you will grant us with but two of your splendid apple scones.” Garth said with an air of hurt pride. Rowan wondered if Garth had practiced so much so that he could choose any emotion and use it to his advantage.
Cara glared one last time at the hurt face, scowled darkly and then turned to the oven and pulled forth a tray of delicious apple scones coated with golden preserves and dripping with warm honey. Garth turned and winked at Rowan as if to say “dinner is served” and focused his attention on the glorious trifles that had been pulled from their warm home.

Rowan smiled gratefully as the beautiful sensation burst in his mouth and warmed his entire being. Garth laughed at the expression.
“Many dinners have I missed for stealing these small bits of heaven. One cannot resist the irresistible taste of Cara’s scones.” He said.
Rowan nodded in complete agreement and savored his next bite which was, unfortunately, his last. The tender goodness washed through his entire being once more and then was gone. Garth finished his as well and rose to gaze into the garden.
“Can I trust you with a secret?” He asked without averting his gaze.
Rowan sat for a moment, confused at the sudden change in his friend. Finally, “Yes, you can.”
“This must not be shared with anyone. Not even your uncle and mother may hear of it. Understood?” The last word was more a command than a question.
“I understand.” Rowan replied solemnly.
Garth turned to him and sat down excitedly. His eyes shone brightly and he seemed as if he could hardly contain his excitement. “The true nature of my parent’s absence is one of great secrecy to which I have just been admitted. They are part of an organization that wishes to make peace with those that once dwelt with men. They are visiting a colony of elves that was found recently by a man from the organization deep within these woods.” He paused and took a deep breath.
“Elves were once great friends of men. They are even now but they fear that if they show themselves, they will be cut down by those who still distrust them. My parents have gone to create a peace treaty with them. This is the first encounter that we have had for over two hundred years!” Garth stopped and awaited Rowan’s response.
Rowan did not know what to say. If this were true, he would find his heart’s desire. To see restored that which once was. He turned his gaze to the line of willows leading to the house and remembered his wish before arriving.
“Have any others been found aside from the elves?” Rowan finally asked.
“Many have been spotted. But any contact has been in vain. Those of the Light fear us. Those of Shadow, however, grow ever greater in number. They have begun to roam the land after twilight falls. Be warned. Danger grows every day. As to that of the elves, we will wait anxiously for word of the treaty. This could transform the earth.” Garth was ecstatic.
“Indeed.” Rowan said.

Hi there, Tyler. EmmaJane here as requested.
First of all, I can see this is a little too long and daunting. It would be easier and less daunting to the reviewers if you split it into two parts, "First chapter A" and "First Chapter B", you are more likely to get more extensive and helpful reviews that way.

~

Another thing I've spotted is speech tags. For example:

“I went to that castle on the hill last night and there were three figures in black cloaks dancing around a blue fire.” The first man said.

It is a mistake many other make, and one I was guilty of when I first started. The dialogue is not separate from the tag. For instance, the above example should have a tag like:

“I went to that castle on the hill last night and there were three figures in black cloaks dancing around a blue fire,” the first man said.

Notice the comma instead of the full-stop, and also the capital "t" you had there should be lowercase.

~

A little bone to pick:

Rowan laughed in silence

How can you laugh in silence? Laughing is a noise. Do you mean a "silent laugh" because the way you've phrased it there is a little strange.

~

I'm sorry this isn't a super long review where everything is picked out and examined. If you were to split it into two parts I may be able to go into greater detail.
Anyway, from what I've read, this is an interesting idea. ^^ Happy writing, oh and please PM me if you split it in half or add another chapter.
~EmmaJane

Hi there, Tyler! It's your freindly neighborhood ANate! On to the review!

So, where shall we start? Let's try the biginning.

Lush green hillside filled his vision as he raced onward. The shining white mare beneath him flew across the rolling plains with its ivory mane flowing in the rushing wind. Rowan drove is heels into the horse’s sides and whipped the reigns willing the swift steed onward to a greater pace. His green cloak flowed out behind him and billowed in the wind like a sail and his basket-handled rapier clacked at his side as the horse surged onward.
The fruitful blossoms of early spring filled his...

I warn you now, this seems almost to much description. Tone it down a bit in the next part. I have gotten a lot of flak for doing the same thing, so be careful.

Next: Commas.
Ah, commas, Writer's Bane. You have a few sentances that are missing commas. Just read it aloud, and where you pause naturally, put a comma. Then have someone else do the same thing, without writing in the commas, just telling you where to put them. This is very helpful. If you want something more in-depth, please say so. I'm happy to help!

The shining white mare beneath him flew across the rolling plains with its ivory mane flowing in the rushing wind. Rowan drove is heels into the horse’s sides and whipped the reigns willing the swift steed onward to a greater pace. His green cloak flowed out behind him and billowed in the wind like a sail and his basket-handled rapier clacked at his side as the horse surged onward.

No offense... but have you actually ever ridden a horse? I've been riding for years, and I haven't ever recalled having to whip the poor animal with it's own reins to get it go faster. Some words of encouragement or a nudge with your heels is usually enough to get the horse to go faster, or even a crop. But no one whips their horses with reins. Also, it's "reins", not "reigns."


You had some nice description, even though you went a bit overboard in some places. The length was also too much. Cut it down next time so that it's easier for people to review.

Overall, though, good job! I can't wait for the next installments!


~ Maggie

Hi Tyler,

I read this all the way to the end because the writing was smooth. I'm in two minds about whether I'd read on at this point, and I'd like to share my thoughts with you.

My key concern is that there's very little forward progression of the main storyline. Look at what actually happens in this sizeable, 2200+ word piece: Riding. Flashbacks. Description. World-building. Introspection. Walking. And finally, at the end, the plot moves forward. I understand the fantasy writer's natural desire to show off how cool their world is, and how well-put-together the backstory, but I feel like the plot has really suffered here.

An opening chapter needs to be gripping. It needs to move forward. This chapter ... meanders. I'm not sure the number of flashbacks and world-building asides are helping you here - I'm not saying that those should be banned from first chapters forevermore, but they are causing your story to wander when it most needs to be tight and compelling.

I'm also a little unsure about your protagonist here. I gather he's the type who would happily spend his life adventuring, befriending weird and wonderful creatures, which is cool. But he's coming across as kind of shallow and passive to me. Shallow because he apparently has no other personality traits. Passive because he basically takes a backseat throughout this entire chapter. He wants to do things, but he has no plans to actually do them. He meets Garth and Garth does all the talking thereafter. He has only 2-3 lines of dialogue in this >2200-word chapter, and none of them have any personality.

To my mind, Rowan needs to (1) be a deeper and more-rounded character than just a boy who wants to adventure, and (2) step up and take more action.

A few other miscellaneous comments, positive and negative:

Isn't Rowan a girl's name?

There's too much description, but I do dig the action verbs. The first paragraph is a brilliant example of good verbs. Things race and flow and billow and surge! That creates the feeling of movement and keeps the description active instead of static and dull.

I'm kind of uncomfortable with the "warrions". They're seen as imposing and frowning and humourless. They're big into violence. They have "dark faces". Rowan doesn't want to befriend them because they're "foul". See where I'm going with this? I feel like there are some really uncomfortable associations going on here between race and darkness and violence and badness, and it's just making me twitch.

Overused phrase: pushed/pushing from mind.

EmmaJane is bang on about the dialogue punctuation.

Awesome! A gun! But if there are muskets, why are other characters still using curved swords and bows? I feel like technology isn't quite marching in lockstep here, and I wince to think of what happened to the poor goblin who brought a sword to a gunfight.

Cliches: scary but warm-hearted fat cook with ladle; warrior races; Light and Shadow (very tired of these simplistic and overused concepts); elves living in the woods.

Overall, while I had a lot of reservations about this piece, I also enjoyed it and think you could make it a lot better. Try to focus on moving the plot forward, economy of words, streamlining down the flashbacks and wandering off on tangents, and presenting Rowan as a stronger, more compelling character.

Hope this helps.

Cheers,
Karsten

I like the descriptions, but at the beginning let's tone it down a little. It can drive readers away with too many details. I know this may sound strange, but it's true. Anyway, I like how you really brought out the medival time in the way the characters dress and speak.
A thing that confused me was they way you had flashbacks. When you had the first flashback, I didn't understand until you ended it. I think you need to transition the paragraphs, to make them flow a bit easier. This has much potential though. Keep Writing! :]

Hi,

You mentioned this to me in the chatroom, so I took a peek. It's very good. I think your discription of the world - in daylight - really sets the scene. I don't know anywhere like that, do you? And when you mention his sword, well, we could already tell that we weren't in Kansas anymore, and that fixed it. Who carries a rapier in these days?
One thing I did find, though, was when Rowen's Father shot the spider. You used "worry" and "Anxiety" to describe the same thing, the father's face. That should probably be avoided in future, because it really is only saying the same thing over, isn't it?

Anyway, excelent so far. I can't wait to see what happens.