Trick Prologue

Swords clashed, sending sparks cascading through the night air as battle cries peeled out like broken bells from every corner of the valley. The cloudy winter sky was tinted a hellish red by the multitude of fires that raged across the blood-stained grass. The putrid smell of burnt flesh filled the air, gagging all but the strongest of warriors. Mutilated corpses littered the ground, slashed beyond recognition, and the moans of the dying could be heard even atop the surrounding mountain peaks.
Dante gazed down at the scene below him and felt his face split into a savage grin. He inhaled as deep as possible, savoring the delicate taste of madness mixed with agony. Once again he found himself wishing that could save just some of this glorious chaos inside him, where he could appreciate its magnificent and unparalleled beauty to his heart’s content.
The young god turned his attention back towards the raging battle below, eagerly watching as the forces crashed up against each other. They battered and struck at one another with beast like ferocity, each trying to tear the other apart. Just when it looked like one force had gained the upper-hand, the other would rage back and tip the scales. Dante smiled, his eyes flitting from one side to the other; he loved unexpected turns.
The war’s intensity grew at an alarming rate as the soldiers became more and more desperate. Each side had lost a fair amount of their forces and the surviving warriors, weary and injured, resorted to dirty tricks on order to survive. Dante was amazed when two combatants ganged up on a third who had stumbled to the ground, both impaling him through the chest before he had the chance to rise. Usually, the world-wide enforced Code of Chivalry would have given the fallen man a chance to recover before being assaulted. It amused Dante that such ordinarily sacred ideals could be tossed aside so easily by frightened and weak men.
Joy shivered through Dante's limbs as man after man fell. He lapped it up as the pain and suffering increased. The warriors were just beginning to reach their limits and the battle was nearing its climax when the sun started to rise through a gap in the eastern mountains. Dante, who was situated directly opposite, looked up into the bright rays that streaked through the now thin clouds and felt his jaw drop.
No…
Riding at full tilt upon a pure white steed, a young man raced down into the valley, bathed in the light of morning sun. His left hand held an old, yet highly polished shield that bore an ancient looking crest, and in his right he wielded a dazzling silver sword that seemed to glow with a power of all its own.
“No!” Dante hissed as he watched the new arrival rush headlong into the battle. Almost immediately, the man’s presence seemed to change the course of the fight. The warring men all slowed as the newcomer raced past them, occasionally pausing to save the random soldier’s life as he made his way to the very heart of the valley.
This couldn’t be happening, Dante thought feverishly. There was absolutely no way something like this could happen. Not now, not when things had just begun to get good.
The young man had reached the center of the battle. His stallion reared up on its hind legs and neighed, the clear sound echoing across the now silent war ground. The breath taking sight brought several of the surrounding men to their knees, awe-struck. Dante merely sighed in exasperation and continued to watch the scene.
Moments later, a large crack appeared before the valiant young man, splitting the ground in front of him as a huge gash suddenly tore its way open. Steam rose from the newly formed crevice and a malicious cackle rang out, startling the man’s mount and causing the beast to rear once again. A blurred silhouette came into view within the thick haze. It slowly gained formed as the mist cleared, until at last even Dante could clearly make out the hunched old man and the gorgeous maiden he held prisoner.
The woman struggled against him, but he ignored her as he addressed the young man. Though they were too far away for him to hear, Dante easily guessed what their conversation was about. The old man, who Dante concluded was a mage—he bore the tell-tale spiral tattoo of one on his brow—was challenging the younger one. The way he repeatedly gestured at the captive woman suggested that her life was on the line and it came as no surprise to Dante when the man descended from his horse and prepared for battle.
“This is ridiculous!” Dante growled to himself, feeling his anger rise. Things were not supposed have gone like this. It should have been just another bloody war, your run-of-the-mill massacre. Not…this! But despite his fury, Dante kept watching, as entranced and paralyzed as the other soldiers were.
The old mage cackled, obviously amused by the young man’s bravery, and then instantly the battle began. The mage sent spell after spell at the man, who in turn dodged them all, rolling and diving back and forth as he evaded each attack. The mage quickly lost his cool confidence and began to slip up, sending out wilder and wilder spells without bothering to take proper aim. It wasn’t until the mage sent out a stream of fire at the man that he finally made contact. Even then though, the man managed to block it with his shield, which parted the flames so easily that it had to have been enchanted itself. The mage, startled by this new revelation, was momentarily frozen as he was forced to restock his opponent. Now free from attack, the man charged at the open, undefended mage. Careful not to touch the still captive maiden, he drove his glowing sword straight to the mage’s torso, killing him instantly.
“No!” Dante shouted, his voice lost in the deafening, ecstatic cheering that broke out as the mage fell to the ground. The warriors all swarmed around their hero, their past enmity for one another forgotten. All of them rejoiced as the man, holding the rescued woman in one arm, raised his gleaming sword with the other.
Dante swore, and got to his feet, dusting off his spotless, ebony clothes. He’d spent ages finding the perfect spot to watch the battle—he’d finally found a lovely little cliff top that provided a spectacular view of the entire valley—but now it was all for nothing. That arrogant fool had ruined everything, destroying the little fun Dante had found.
A slight breeze picked up, carrying the joyful sounds from the valley up to Dante. He sighed as he thought of how, just moments ago, those sounds would have been the tantalizing malevolent ones of war and anguish. It was ridiculous how fast everything had gone wrong. One moment, Dante had been having the time of the century, and the next, he was sulking atop a mountain peak while the mortals celebrated below. It had taken years for Dante to set this all up. Who knew when he’d be able to enjoy himself as much as he had tonight? Probably not for another--
And then the idea came to him. And what an idea it was! It was clever, cunning, elegant; nothing short of perfection. Such an idea was worthy only of Dante’s imagination, a plan that could only be of his creation. And only he could pull off such a brilliant and flawless idea. It would take careful planning—he would have to use all of his wits and resources for even a chance of its success—but, more so, it would take a agonizing amount of time, more than he’d ever used for one trick before and much more than he’d of liked. So much time to put all of the pieces in place…
But no matter. It would all be worth it. This ingenious plan of his would change everything.
Without a backward glance at the happy ending below him, Dante turned and vanished into the lingering shadows of the night.



So yeah, this is the first thing I'm submitting to YWS. It's, as the title hinted at, the prologue of a project I'm currently working on called "Trick". Though I personally love a good cliche romance, a friend of mine's rant about how conventional a book I'd recommended to her was inspired the basic thought I had when I began writing this. I didn't want to create just another typical story, and this what I ended up starting with. Yes, I do get the irony of the fact that most of what I wrote (i.e, Dante's name being Dante, describing his black clothes as ebony, etc..) is indeed predictable, but I thought it kinda added a sense of tradition to the otherwise tradition-bashing plot. Kind of like a nice paradox right? No? Ah well. Can't be helped. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this and provide me with some nice or not-so nice feed back :3 Also, any advice on how to continue on in this would be appreciated because I'm kinda stuck on where to go from here. Do try and be gentle .

Hey

I thought I'd clear a few things up, first; remember that an archetype is not the same as a cliché. Archetypes are the fundamental basis of all stories--a protagonist, an antagonist, an introduction, a build-up, a climax, an ending etc. But then there are clichés, in which one might find the predictability too obvious and annoying. For example, a poor farmboy (=cliché), finds a blue egg (=cliché) that hatches only for him (=cliché), and transforms his life with magic (=cliché), becomes known as the chosen one (=cliché) and will overthrow the dark king (=cliché). Try reading The Hero's Journey by Joseph Cambell for more about that.

could appreciate it’s magnificent

"it's" = "its"

As I read this piece, I felt it difficult to picture what was happening, since you're just telling us everything. Let's look at that further--Dante's viewpoint is the foremost of the story, no? So, since he's not actually fighting, it makes it more interesting for him to watch from above another person, say, to draw us into the battle. You tell us that it "was already reaching its climax". Why? Don't tell us that the battle "was" anything, but show--I can't see it in my head. Are more soldiers coming, more warriors fighting, louder cries, what?

bitter-sweet pleasure

I find this cliché annoying more than anything else, because, once again, we don't know why it's bitter-sweet. It tells us nothing.

I'd also like to do some ranting about adjectives now--it's suffocating. Let's look at the start of this prologue:

The cloudy winter sky was tinted a hellish red by the multitude of fires that raged unbound across the dead, blood-stained grass and the putrid smell of burnt flesh filled the air, gagging all but the strongest of warriors.

Adjectives, adverbs... all in just one line. See, again, they don't show us anything. This entire line could be avoided if you follow someone down in the battle, cowering at the sickly stench, bowing before the sky, as grey as winter, or whatever.

The paragraph in which you try to acknowledge every cliché known to man gives me the creeps. It reads more like a guide book on how not to write fantasy. Bring your character into it--is he searching for a hero, or a damsel in distress? Could he be that hero?

Another, predictable, happily ever after.

You don't need to acknowledge it all in one paragraph. Drop a few subtle hints throughout the story--that's all we need. There's nothing for the reader to search for, it's just there, handed to us on a plate. It reads more humorously if we can draw our own conclusions.

Let me know if you have any questions.
-Mark

Wow. Thanks for all of the input. I really appreciate it Most of what you said are things I completely over-looked and I obviously need to go back and look over my writing style. The only thing I think I should explain is that Dante's veiw isn't really the foremost in the story, but more so for this one part only. I just thought it would make a good opening from his point of veiw.
Once again though, thanks for the advice

Hey Pandapez!!! Welcome to YWS! Let's see what you've got!

pandapez wrote:Swords clashed, sending sparks cascading through the night air as battle cries peeled out like broken bells from every corner of the valley. Love this line! The cloudy winter sky was tinted a hellish red by the multitude of fires that raged [s]unbound[/s] across the [s]dead[/s], blood-stained grass. [s]and[/s] The putrid smell of burnt flesh filled the air, gagging all but the strongest of warriors. Mutilated corpses littered the ground, slashed beyond recognition, and the moans of the dying could be heard even atop the surrounding mountain peaks.
Dante gazed down at the scene [s]from hell[/s] below him and [s]felt[/s] his face split into a savage grin. He inhaled as deep as possible, savoring the delicate taste of madness mixed with agony, and found himself wishing once again that he could save just some of this glorious chaos inside him, where he could appreciate it’s magnificent and unparalleled beauty to his heart’s content. Wow! That was a very long and confusing sentence. Split up your ideas. It will definitley make the story flow better If only he could make moments such as this last forever, never to be ruined by the unbearably commonplace and mundane peace that would inevitably follow.
Dante sighed, releasing his cherished yet foolish wish. No doubt there was already some pathetic “hero” out trying to save the day this very moment, trailing compassion and justice in his glowing, god-touched wake. The arrogant fool was probably racing towards the battlefield now, his pure white steed charging at full speed to reach their destination just in time to stop the war before any real damage could be done. And, following the time-worn cliché, he’d luckily arrive just at the right moment to save the gorgeous, kidnapped princess from sure death, who, of course, would then fall head-over-heels in love with him. Throw in a few nail-biting, suspense filled twists and voila! Another, predictable, happily ever after. Hmmmm, I'm not sure if I like this paragraph at all. In my opinion, I think you should cut it out altogether because the next paragraph flows nicely with the paragraph above the one I didn't like.
Dante shook his head and stood, dusting off his spotless, ebony clothes. He’d spent ages finding the perfect spot to watch the battle—he’d finally found a lovely little cliff top that provided a spectacular view of the entire valley—but now his mood was ruined. He’d never be able to enjoy the rest of the massacre now, leaving no reason for him to stick around any longer. Besides, the war was already reaching its climax, which always symbolized the hero’s imminent arrival, and thus the end of all the fun.
Okay, see how I underlined the first two words of each of the above paragraphs? When you are writing many editors dislike it when you begin each paragraph in a similar fashion i.e. "Dante did this and Dante did that". Mix it up a bit. Don't start each paragraph with his name. Throw description in etc.
A slight breeze picked up, carrying all the miserable sounds and scent from the valley up to Dante once again. He closed his eyes and reveled in the bitter-sweet pleasure he was brought by the mortal’s pain, stretching the moment out for as long as possible; he didn’t know when he’d next have the chance to enjoy himself this much. Probably not for another cenua—
And then the idea came to him. And what an idea it was! It was clever, cunning, elegant; nothing short of perfection. Such an idea was worthy only of Dante’s imagination, a plan that could only be of his creation. And only he could pull off such a brilliant and flawless idea. It would take careful planning—he would have to use all of his wits and resources for even a chance of its success—but, above all, it would take a agonizing amount of time, more than he’d ever used for one trick before and much more than he’d like. So much time to put all of the pieces in place…
But no matter. It would all be worth it. This ingenious plan of his would change everything.
With once last glance at the devastation and insanity below him for encouragement, Dante turned and vanished into the night.

So yeah, this is the first thing I'm submitting to YWS. It's, as the title hinted at, the prologue of a project I'm currently working on called "Trick". Though I personally love a good cliche romance, a friend of mine's rant about how conventinal a book I'd recommended to her was inspired the basic thought I had when I began writing this. I didn't want to create just another typical story, and this what I ended up starting with. Yes, I do get the irony of the fact that most of what I wrote (i.e, Dante's name being Dante, describing his black clothes as ebony, etc..) is indeed predictable, but I thought it kinda added a sense of tradition to the otherwise traditon-bashing plot. Kind of like a nice paradox right? No? Ah well. Can't be helped. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this and provide me with some nice or not-so nice feed back :3 Also, any advice on how to continue on in this would be appreciated because I'm kinda stuck on where to go from here. Do try and be gentle .

Overall:

The Good:

Your descriptions are absolutley lovely! You definitley have a knack for pulling us into the world you've created!
I loved Dante! He's mysterious and intriuging and villainous! Pretty much awesome!!!!
I loved the idea of it all!

Stuff That Could Use some Work:

Beautifully Bubbling Bodacious: Okay, you didn't use any of these words but I found that you use wayyyy too many adjectives. Cut a few of them out and your piece will run a lot smoother.

And It Just Goes On And On: Your sentences can get a bit too long and carried away. I tried to cut up a few but I definitley think you should run through this piece with a chainsaw and cut them into smaller more readable ideas. You just don't want to confuse the readers.

Since When is the Hero Allowed to Make Such an Annoying Entrance?: Okay, I read the part about how you want to turn a cliche on its head which is a great idea, I just don't think it's worth mentioning the hero or the cliche in the depth that you do. When I read the paragraph about the hero I kind of rolled my eyes because all your readers know a cliche when they see one, you don't really have to explain it. And Dante is just thinking the hero will show up, because in the story you don't give us any reason to believe that he has shown up.

Show Us A Story: This part will go along with the comments I wrote in the above paragraph. Show us more of the battle. Show us Dante watching as the hero makes his grand entrance without telling us what is about to happen. I'd much rather see this annoying hero come in and have Dante get all angry because he's going to ruin his evening. I want to see it all happen, not just have the main character hypothesize about it.

In answer to the question of how to go on with this, you should just follow where the story takes you whether its introducing a new character, bringing him to his secret lair, or skewering the hero himself. Just sit down and type until something makes sense. That's usually what I do.

Anyway, I hope this wasn't too harsh because I absolutley LOVED it! It's a very interesting idea and I think if you just clean it up a bit it could be amazing!!!! PM me if you have any questions and when you put the next chapter up, definitley let me know!!!!

Thanks a lot for the review^^ It really helped clarify some of the things I was thinking about. And I'll definitely work on my over-description, which sadly, is one of the things I despise most in books. But at least now I know my weaknesses. Thanks again for your advice

I thought the whole story line in all was pretty cool, but there were several grammatical mistakes and run-on sentences (thought I shouldn't be the one to talk). I really see potential in this story and can't wait to read the rest.

Back again! Let's see how you've done!!!!

pandapez wrote:Swords clashed, sending sparks cascading through the night air as battle cries peeled out like broken bells from every corner of the valley. The cloudy winter sky was tinted a hellish red by the multitude of fires that raged across the blood-stained grass. The putrid smell of burnt flesh filled the air, gagging all but the strongest of warriors. Mutilated corpses littered the ground, slashed beyond recognition, and the moans of the dying could be heard even atop the surrounding mountain peaks. I love this paragraph
Dante gazed down at the scene below him and felt his face split into a savage grin. He inhaled as deep as possible, savoring the delicate taste of madness mixed with agony. Once again he found himself wishing that he could save just some of this glorious chaos inside him Again, I found this entire sentence a bit awkward so instead of inside him maybe you could say "in his mind" or something like that , where he could appreciate its magnificent and unparalleled beauty to his heart’s content. [s]If only he could make moments such as this last forever. [/s] That line felt a bit repetitive so I'd cut it out completely if I were you
The young god turned his attention back towards the raging battle below, eagerly watching as the forces crashed up against each other. They battered and struck at one another with beast-like ferocity, each trying to tear the other apart. Just when it looked like one force had gained the upper-hand, the other would rage back and tip the scales. Dante smiled, his eyes flitting from one side to the other,[s]Excitement would flood Dante when moments like this happened;[/s] he loved unexpected turns.
The war’s intensity grew at an alarming rate as the soldiers became more and more desperate. Each side had lost a fair amount of their forces and the surviving warriors, weary and injured, resorted to dirty tricks in [s]on[/s] order to survive. Dante was amazed when two combatants ganged[s]ained [/s]up on a third who had stumbled to the ground, both impaling him through the chest before he had the chance to rise. Usually, the world-wide enforced Code of Chivalry would have given the fallen man a chance to recover before being assaulted. It amused Dante that such ordinarily sacred ideals could be tossed aside so easily by frightened and weak men.
Joy shivered through Dante's limbs [s]radiated through Dante[/s] as [s]he[/s] man after man fell. [s]This was the most entertainment he’d had in ages and [/s] He lapped it up as the pain and suffering increased. The warriors were just beginning to reach their limits and the battle was nearing its climax when the sun started to rise through a gap in the eastern mountains. Dante, who was situated directly opposite, looked up into the bright rays that streaked through the now thin clouds and felt his jaw drop.
No…
Riding at full tilt upon a pure white steed, a young man raced [s]was racing[/s] down into the valley, bathed in the light of morning sun. His left hand held an old, yet highly polished shield that bore an ancient looking crest, and in his right he wielded a dazzling silver sword that seemed to glow with a power of all its own.
“No!” Dante hissed as he [s]furiously[/s] watched the new arrival rush headlong into the battle. Almost immediately, the man’s presence seemed to change the [s]to[/s] course of the fight. The warring men all slowed as the newcomer raced past them, occasionally pausing to save the random soldier’s life as he made his way to the very heart of the valley.
This couldn’t be happening, Dante thought feverishly. There was absolutely no way something like this could happen. Not now, not when things had just begun to get good.
The young man [s]had[/s] reached the center of the battle. His stallion reared up on its hind legs and neighed, the clear sound echoing across the now silent war ground. The breath taking sight brought several of the surrounding men to their knees, awe-struck. Dante merely sighed in exasperation and continued to watch the scene.
Moments later, a large crack appeared before the valiant young man, splitting the ground in front of him as a huge gash suddenly tore its way open. Steam rose from the newly formed crevice and a malicious cackle rang out, startling the man’s mount and causing the beast to rear once again. A blurred silhouette came into view within the thick haze. It slowly gained formed as the mist cleared, until at last even Dante could clearly make out the hunched old man and the gorgeous maiden he held prisoner.
The woman struggled against him, but he ignored her as he addressed the young man. Though they were too far away for him to hear, Dante easily guessed what their conversation was about. The old man, who Dante concluded was a mage—he bore the tell-tale spiral tattoo of one on his brow—was challenging the younger one. The way he repeatedly gestured at the captive woman suggested that her life was on the line and it came as no surprise to Dante when the man descended from his horse and prepared for battle.
“This is ridiculous!” Dante growled to himself, feeling his anger rise. Things were not supposed have gone like this. It should have been just another bloody war, your run-of-the-mill massacre. Not…this! But despite his fury, Dante kept watching, as entranced and paralyzed as the other soldiers were.
The old mage cackled, obviously amused by the young man’s bravery, and then instantly the battle began. The mage sent spell after spell at the man, who in turn dodged them all, rolling and diving back and forth as he evaded each attack. The mage quickly lost his cool confidence and began to slip up, sending out wilder and wilder spells without bothering to take proper aim. It wasn’t until the mage sent out a stream of fire at the man that he finally made contact. Even then though, the man managed to block it with his shield, which parted the flames so easily that it had to have been enchanted itself. The mage, startled by this new revelation, was momentarily frozen as he was forced to restock his opponent. Now free from attack, the man charged at the open, undefended mage. Careful not to touch the still captive maiden, he drove his glowing sword straight to the mage’s torso, killing him instantly.
“No!” Dante shouted, his voice lost in the deafening, ecstatic cheering that broke out as the mage fell to the ground. The warriors all swarmed around their hero, their past enmity for one another forgotten. All of them rejoiced as the man, holding the rescued woman in one arm, raised his gleaming sword with the other.
Dante swore, and got to his feet, dusting off his spotless, ebony clothes. He’d spent ages finding the perfect spot to watch the battle—he’d finally found a lovely little cliff top that provided a spectacular view of the entire valley—but now it was all for nothing. That arrogant fool had ruined everything, destroying the little fun Dante had found. [s]And he had done it just when things had started to get exciting.[/s]
A slight breeze picked up, carrying the joyful sounds from the valley up to Dante. He sighed as he thought of how, just moments ago, those sounds would have been the tantalizing malevolent ones of war and anguish. It was ridiculous how fast everything had gone wrong. One moment, Dante had been having the time of the century, and the next, he was sulking atop a mountain peak while the mortals celebrated below. It had taken years for Dante to set this all up. Who knew when he’d be able to enjoy himself as much as he had tonight? Probably not for another--
And then the idea came to him. And what an idea it was! It was clever, cunning, elegant; nothing short of perfection. Such an idea was worthy only of Dante’s imagination, a plan that could only be of his creation. And only he could pull off such a brilliant and flawless idea. It would take careful planning—he would have to use all of his wits and resources for even a chance of its success—but, more so, it would take a agonizing amount of time, more than he’d ever used for one trick before and much more than he’d of liked. So much time to put all of the pieces in place…
But no matter. It would all be worth it. This ingenious plan of his would change everything.
With out a backward glance at the happy ending below him, Dante turned and vanished into the lingering shadows of the night.


[i]So yeah, this is the first thing I'm submitting to YWS. It's, as the title hinted at, the prologue of a project I'm currently working on called "Trick". Though I personally love a good cliche romance, a friend of mine's rant about how conventional a book I'd recommended to her was inspired the basic thought I had when I began writing this. I didn't want to create just another typical story, and this what I ended up starting with. Yes, I do get the irony of the fact that most of what I wrote (i.e, Dante's name being Dante, describing his black clothes as ebony, etc..) is indeed predictable, but I thought it kinda added a sense of tradition to the otherwise tradition-bashing plot. Kind of like a nice paradox right? No? Ah well. Can't be helped. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this and provide me with some nice or not-so nice feed back :3 Also, any advice on how to continue on in this would be appreciated because I'm kinda stuck on where to go from here. Do try and be gentle .

This was much better!!!! I loved how you pulled us into the action and let us see for ourselves what made Dante so angry!!!! Very well Done!!!

Nitpicks:

Avoid The Passive Voice: This is when you say "was running" or anything that has was and then a -ing verb. Try not to use was. As you can see above, the bold words are words that I inserted or phrases I thought would work better so, for example instead of "was running" I would have put "ran". By eliminating the passive voice you pull us deeper into your story.

Cut Out Any Extraneous Details: I cut out a few but sometimes you start to repeat yourselves, especially when you talk about how angry he is that this person is ruining his moment. You say he's waited so long for this a lot throughout the prologue, so try either to rephrase it, find other words to describe his anger, for example have him kick the dust, show us how his face grows livid and prune-like in color, instead of always saying "he had waited so long for this" over and over. YOu definitley have a way with words, so try to think of other ways to describe his unrest.


Other than that, a very entertaining read!!!! Again, let me know by PM when the next chapter comes out!!!!

Phew. I was afraid I would have made it worse^^ I'll work on the excess details and repeating myself. Thanks again for the review!