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This was a terrible cheap rip-off of Lord of the Rings. May no one ever feel the pain of reading it again.

First off i don't think it is too much like lord of the rings. It has similarities but few books in the 'Epic' fantasy genre don't.
I do think think that it is far too long winded to exist as a prologue. Remember this is the first part of the piece that people will read and it must be a pleasure to read not a chore. I find that speech is often revitalizing to read. I know this is not fashionable to have in prologue but its not bad to be different. The writing itself is fine. Some words are quite descriptive but that is not a problem. The writing is by no means verbose.
As a last i would say that as a prologue it doesn't set itself apart from others. Its competent and shows skill but its like a thousand others I've read.
On a good note it does seem to lead onto a good story. And i look forward to chapter one coming onto to the site despite everything I've said.

On a good note this is very well-written for someone your age. I probably couldn't write something like that unless I worked on it until Christmas. I applaud you for that.

On the other hand it did seem a bit generic fantasy. The first half or so did reminded me of The Lord of the Rings just a bit, and I was a little confused about who Candun was until the last few paragraphs. The alternating from action to info dumps was also a bit confusing. Like Quibbon said before me, it shows skill but doesn't set itself apart from other generic fantasy prologues.

That being said this did keep me interested and seems like a pretty good start to a story, and I look foward to reading more.

Okay thank you for the opinions. I'll try to think of a better way to include this, because it is important stuff.

One of my biggest problems is going from info dumps to action. I really am trying to work on that and intermix, so I don't go on a train of thought of necessary info and then skip back to action.

I think, right now, it is slightly 'bland' and I'd love to think of a more creative way to keep readers interested. hmm. I think as the main character comes into the story, it will get better and set itself apart more, though I'd prefer to do so right away.

If there are any certain areas that you have more specific suggestions on, please point them out. That REALLY helps me. ^.^ Because sometimes writers can notice parts about their work that need fixing, but can overlook others. Every extra set of eyes that reads over the story and makes suggestions is used!

- Dreami

Gah, battle scenes are so hard to write.

You are right about the info dumps and action shifts, but I think that problem directly ties into an overall thing I noticed in this story.

You said you thought the story was bland and that you want to keep readers interested. Well, as far as I can see, the history of your land is fascinating, the description you give paints clear pictures and your plot looks promising. Then why is this bland? One reason: characters. It is not your characters who are necessarily bland, but rather how you portray them.

This is a common error in the fantasy genre, especially in battle scenes, so don't feel bad. The reason this seems bland is that we are not emotionally attached to the characters. You describe almost everything about Candun's battle with objectivity, like a history book reciting every detail of what happens. Now, I like details, but when you write a battle scene objectively, you give us next to no insights into your characters. And no matter how many fascinating things occur, if we cannot relate or become intrigued by your characters, your story will be bland.

How do you fix this? Focus on your main character - give us insights into him, show us how he is reacting to all this havoc rather than telling us what is going on. This is a perfect opportunity for characterization. What does Candun do under all this stress? What does he think of the entire matter? Is he fatigued by it? Is he scared? Or is he struggling to face death calmly? This is a massive opportunity if you will just take advantage of it.

And if you focus more on your character, your information dumps will be minimized, and even if you dump a little info, it will be in the context of a living, breathing character the readers can relate to.

As for similarities to Lord of the Rings, I really can't say this early on in the story. I have a general bias against writers using elves, but that's just me. When I read more of this, I'll give more insights into that.

I see a lot of potential here so please keep writing and be proud of yourself for getting this far. PM me if you need anything. Toodles!

mmk... 1st chapter. I'd just like to say thank you SO much to all of you who have taken the time to critique so far. I am up to Chapter four and will post stuff slowly as I re-edit it:

Lithrana gazed upon the starless night from the threshold of the King’s palace. She was dressed poorly, with her raven hair hanging in a disheveled knot. Her appearance disguised her so that her remarkable heritage and features could not be traced to the line of Kings. Instead, she appeared as only an indistinguishable servant, enslaved to the King of Ithaldun. Drawn tight around her was a cloak that shone bright as diamonds or as dark as sapphires. The shroud was woven by the Elves for the King’s vain son, though often stolen by his cousin for its usefulness. Only the sharpest eyed Elves could spot the slight disturbance the cloak caused. It was well suited to blending into all surroundings, and Lithrana wore it with a roguish pride. Despite her cousin’s rudeness, despite his cousin’s cruelty and indifference about her, she could best the brute in a match of wits.

She crept to the western borders of the Elven city, her mind beckoning to go to Estara, her mare. Lithrana carefully slinked into the royally built stable. She slowly inched across the large passageway, pressing herself against the bricks that ensnared the horses. Coming to one of the last stalls, she carefully opened the finely oiled latch and enclosed herself in the stall. She sat among the wood shavings, staring up at her regal Diyhan-bred mare. Estara lowered her delicately chiseled head, until it was eye level with Lithrana. She lifted her hands to the horse’s dark muzzle, and stared in the chocolate brown eyes. The Elf hated Dihar and Sykan, her only relatives left in Camadune, the pompous king and Prince of Ithaldun. Lithrana did not know why, but her own mother had fled west, into Rumisan Forest, leaving the girl at the mercy of her uncle and nephew. Syalan’s parting gift to her daughter had been this gray steed, making the mare even more precious to Lithrana.

Lithrana murmured to her horse as she prepared to lift herself off the ground “Swift are your strides. You are the daughter of the wind, my mare. Even the desert sons bred in Cansin, to the south, cannot rival you.”

The maiden gripped the long wavy mane of the mare, about to leap up onto her lightly dappled back when she heard voices. Once again, the girl slipped to the ground and waited, while patiently eavesdropping on Forsan, the high guard of the Palace, and Sindad, the stable master. Both were knowledgeable about politics and often engaged in debates. They were well-informed of the truth that had trickled through the King’s carefully woven nets of lies and deceit. Their voices echoed through the empty stable.

Forsan spoke heatedly “You complain, about Dihar, who stops the people of this land from being paralyzed with the truth? Why? What would you have him do? Let every word about the other lands reach the ears of all the masses of Elves in Ithaldun?”

“The people should know!” Sindad retorted “There is a darkness growing in the west, one that cannot be contained for long. It is inevitable. We shall need to stand our ground and fight, not cower in the trees!”

“You are like the others; you think the Elvenking is weak. We live in dark times. Sindad, you are correct, Ghannor’s growing threat cannot be contained, but we must try. In Dihar’s mind, if he lets all the rumors fly around, paranoia would erupt; pandemonium would fill the streets.”

Sindad countered “It’s all politics. All Dihar cares about is his own image. He tries to give these people the illusion that he is strong. The king must stand up and fight.”

In an urgent, anxious whisper, Forsan replied “What can I do? I am of the Elvenguard, I have no choice but to support our king. Do you think I choose to hide and tremble, like a rabbit dives for cover in the bushes while the hawks and predators linger above it?” This final comment left Sindad dumbstruck, and with the swish of his robes, he turned and exited the stable, with Forsan at his heels.

Listening to the fading footsteps of the pair, Lithrana finally mounted her mare, arranging her dark garb and stuffing the cloak into her pocket. With an explosion of energy, Estara galloped out of the stables and into the dark forest encircling the town. The Elf leaned upon the mare’s neck as Estara’s silky mane whipped her face. They plowed across valleys and past massive trees, as the girl expertly guided her westward.


The mare’s chest and shoulders grew dark with sweat, until her silvery coat was a shadowy color. Lithrana urged her to gallop hard, and the mare complied until they had escaped all thought and time. For several miles they continued, until they stopped at the mighty banks of the Eradad River. The rider crouched down to let the waters lap at her feet while the horse contentedly scavenged the ground for grass, occasionally enjoying the sensation of the river upon her coat. Lithrana waited, deep in thought.

The darkness was growing, along with the rumors. Truth did not matter to the King anymore; if it hurt his reputation it would not reach the ears of the commoners. Even she, employed in the service of the King and part of the royal, had not heard the whispers that Forsan and Sindad had uncovered. What other whispers were racing across Esrydil concerning Ghannor?

A shadow was growing, one that could spread across all ends of the earth, and the elves - her people - were weak. Dihad and Sykan treated her like a peasant, worse than a lowly beggar in the streets. Her cousin was a pampered prince, who was continually seeking ways to degrade and insult her.

Completely self-taught in her education, Lithrana had only patches of knowledge and was still ignorant about many things. Her only chance to study was at night, away from the wandering eyes of others. She was bright and vivacious, with a mind that hungered for learning, especially in the history and lore of Elves.

She learned many lays, prophecies, and songs of old, with a extreme curiosity for those concerning Galdad's fall. One of these writings she remembered very clearly, speaking of a nameless Elf and her spirit. This particular piece of literature was Candun's personal account of the battle, a book that was rarely accessed in the King's private library, and Lithrana doubted if the Elvenking himself knew what secrets lay between it's crumbling pages. In it, Lithrana read an ominous message:

'At the climax of the battle, I was elated and full of grief at the same time. The body of this girl descended into the same pit that Galdad had met his doom in. I felt ... strangely connected to her, though the time I had gazed on her amounted to only a few minutes. No remnants of Galdad were left, he would be entombed under the earth for as long as the world continued. And … this … mere girl had an honorable death and sacrifice of herself, which should be remembered for all the ages of the people of Esrydil. As I reveled on these thoughts, I saw her - a pale shimmer of mist, but her beauty was still undiminished. She urged me, "This is not The End." and I gaped at her in bewilderment and without any concept of what she meant.'

With this discovery, Lithrana's curiosity was awakened and she forgot all measures of secrecy. She rushed to the Sage of the Court and began drilling him with questions about this account. Her inquisitiveness was punished severely, and she was chided about her "silly, unpractical queries." He unjustly dragged her before her uncle, Dihad, who treated her with disgust.

Her face burned with the memory of his words. "You ungrateful brat! We care for you, house you, and feed you, and in repayment, you dwell on silly fantasies! I wish my sister hadn't departed to live in Rumisan with the Eastern Elves, so that I was burdened with you!"

After that day, she had been enslaved in his injustice, and laboring under Dihad and Sykan, Lithrana had almost lost all interest in education and knowledge. They were trying to overpower her, so she forgot her true lineage. For in her flowed royal blood. She was a queenly person, with much more skill and potential than her cousin. If given the chance and desire, she could overtake them. More than anything else, the Elvenking feared to loose all he had falsely inherited.

She comforted herself by saying "No longer. Today I leave. I shall go south, to Kinbar. Perhaps I shall be brave enough to leave Ithaldun Forest, to venture into the vast lands surrounding our sheltered woods." Her quailing heart knew there was no truth in these words, although they made her stronger. With renewed energy, she whistled for Estara. The mare thundered to her side, and waited patiently as Lithrana swung astride her.

Lithrana felt nervous and afraid as the pair trotted along under the golden autumn leaves. There was a strange darkness overhead, although it should be mid-day by now. There was no scent of raindrops on the air, nor the sound of rumbling thunder from afar. The mare also began to have a growing anxiety, dancing and shying from under the Elf. The girl put her hand upon the mare's shoulders, and spoke slowly to calm the horse/ The mare relaxed, swayed by Lithrana’s melodic voice.

As they left the shelter of the brightly hued leaves, Lithrana approached the city. She slunk into the stables, where she settled the mare before leaving, overcome with tremors. All was quiet, unnaturally quiet. The whole area seemed to be vanquished of its glittering allure. She released Estara, who lurched around and promptly bolted westwards. The mare was retracing their steps they had taken only moments before, leaving Lithrana dumbstruck; watching the swinging gate. Some stronger inner instinct kept her from crying out to attempt to call the mare back.

She heard a fell voice echo through the city, unlike any noise that had ever been uttered in Ithaldun before. The cry was answered with demonic calls, filling the empty void of sound. Stealthily, Lithrana huddled at the base of a tree, her cloak protecting her. She pressed her cheek against the tree so hard that the coarse, time-etched bark made a painful imprint upon her face.

Her chances of survival were slim. She faced a creature that had not been seen since the fall of Galdad, and she had absolutely no idea what the limits of power this creature had.

Draped in dark adornments, she watched the creature hover closer to her. As it approached, she had to restrain herself from gasping out in pain. All light seemed to be gravitating toward the creature, like a black hole that reflected only malevolence and despair. Lithrana felt herself grow rigid and cold, her life slowly leaving her.

With growing relief she watched the creature travel up the steps of a nearby tree. A deep sigh escaped her, too weak and exhausted from the encounter to worry about the consequences. Above her, she heard the clattering of metal against metal as there swords were being unsheathed, bringing her sharply back to reality. Lithrana's ears became sharply in tune to the slightest creak, and she fought back tears as she heard a soft moan.

The fiends gave one last united cry, and light seemed to return at once. Infamous slaughtering demons, their names were never spoken though all the people of Esrydil had heard myths and legends of them – the Dav-Kar. They were the strongest and most feared servants of Galdad.

Lithrana stood and faced the city, a gloomy, lonely feeling filling her. A solemn look formed on her face. In respect for the dead, she bowed her head, her tears dripping to the ground. She knew that even if she searched the town, from the lofty buildings woven into the bark of the trees, to the floor of the forest amongst the foliage, none would be alive. The ancient beauty of Camadune, Royal city of Ithaldun, was extinguished in one swift stroke of evil. They were unprepared and faced unsettlingly strong enemies who were extremely deadly to the fair Elves.

She gave a long whistle that echoed through the woodland. Somewhere in the distance, an ear swiveled in Lithrana’s direction, followed by steady hoofbeats. Estara galloped to her master, nuzzling her affectionately. The mare was intelligent and loyal, but courage had wavered within her when she had sensed the Dav-Kar, and for good reason.

While she stroked Estara’s silvery coat, Lithrana gave a weak smile. “I didn’t really mean to leave,” she whispered to herself, “but now I have no choice.” With a last wishful glance at the tarnished yet still glorious city, Lithrana bounded on the horse and slowly turned away.

Very good.

However, I was a bit confused by the last few paragraphs, when the Dav-Kar appear. It seemed to move too fast. Did only one of them destroy the whole city? And it seemed undescriptive. Swords being unsheathed and soft moans... I think you should add some more action. It seems like they're just suddenly dead.

Keep writing. I'm excited for the next chapter.

I haven't got around to reading the secoind part yet, but I've read the first part and now, heres my critique...

Dreami wrote:Sweat dripped down Candun’s face as he wielded a silver blade. He staggered, footsore after the long march from Ithaldun Forest to fight against Galdad, the Dark One who had plunged the earth into an omnipresent darkness. Candun continued to swing mercilessly as the demonic creatures of Galdad attacked him. Their corpses were strewn upon the ground, their blood mingling with dwarves, elves and men’s cadavers. Many of Galdad’s followers were slaughtered, but thousands of desert men and foul entities of the dark still fought for the Sorcerer. The thieves of the vast Hithadrin Desert were scum – betrayers of their own kin, traitors of the East, mortals twisted and blinded by the dark. These barbaric men were animals, undeserving of the honor of being called human. This battle was the climax of the Great War, where thousands of Elves and mortals strained against the Necromancer.

That didn't make that much sense to me. Maybe - Candun continued to swing his blade mercilessly at the demonic creatures of Galdad who attacked him


You don't need the apostraphe - Many of Galdads followers

I personnally think that this sounds better - This battle was the climax of the Great War, where thousands of Elves and mortals fought against the Necromancer

Dreami wrote:The armies of the Light were weary and their instinctive blocks were sluggish due to sheer exhaustion. They became susceptible to the Servants of the Darkness. Elves had ventured far across the land, from the north while Men had wearily journey from the lands of Sómer and Konan. Dwarves had assaulted Galdad’s armies by following the Gimdun Mountains. Along their journey, the mountains they lived in and mined heightened into the ranges of the Dark Mountains, cliffs of vertical stone in foreboding shades of gray and black. Through these mountains there weaved a secret path that was the treacherous entrance to Ghannor, Galdad’s hoard of land.

You don't really need instinctive - their blocks were sluggish

I thibk that vulnerable fits that better - They became vulnerable to the Servants of the Darkness

I think that it should be - they lived and mined in

Dreami wrote:The chance of success was laughable, the smallest fraction of a percent, but action needed to be taken. Galdad had finally been lured out of Ghannor, his full strength drawn to the Plains of Hiradu. Never before had the Necromancer been enticed out of his barren wasteland of ashes and dust, he instead stayed hidden. He acted like a thief protecting his treasures. An obsessive trepidation filled him, hidden in the dark depths and fragments of his soul: fear of failure. He must eliminate the Three Races forever so he would never again fear loosing his precious winnings. Now was the time when he would claim his prize for eternity, and crush any dying hopes of rebellion. After this war, never again would there be a chance of destroying him. This final battle would make him all powerful and seal the fate of Esrydil forever.

it's a bit awkward to read maybe - he preffered to stay hidden

that should be - loosing his precious treasures

I think it should be - there would be no chance of destroying him

Dreami wrote:By some Dark intuition, a sinister dragon beat its wings and slowly descended until it was beside Galdad. The dragon’s scales were a dark crimson, deeper than blood; the color itself exerted a powerful feeling of despair. The hue seemed to have a depth that mirrored all eternity and darkness. Galdad mounted the dragon and collected the ebony reins, bejeweled with silver runes and ancient symbols. The saddle matched the headpiece, adorned with silver against the black leather. The dragon gave a fell scream and fire raged forth from his nostrils. With a lurch, the pair sprang forward, and steered toward the men of Sómer and the reinforcements of Elves. When they landed, Galdad stepped off the dragon and his steel mail jangled as he advanced on them, his mace gleaming ominously in the rising sun.

erm, i think that should be - darker than blood

that should be - and advanced on them his steel mail jingling

~ Shadowsun