ONYX

ONYX

-Prologue-

A slight, dark man sat in a corner, peering through a dingy window in a seedy tavern, out into the road ahead. Two cloaked horsemen galloped suddenly by, causing the man to jump. He glanced around the room, reaffirming its vacancy. It was well past middle-night. Still, caution one could never over exercise.

As he reverted his focus to the road, he noticed a mere pinprick of illumination, weaving its way across the trampled dirt and into a nearby fen.

The man moved quickly, purposefully, out of the tavern and across the road.

He stared at the bog, watching for any sign of movement. He saw nothing.

“Greetings, Schalk,” stated a powerful, piercing voice directly behind him. The man spun around. A faerie stood calmly, waiting for the reciprocal pleasantry.

“G-g-greetings, Sir,” Schalk stammered.

“Pray tell, what information have you?” questioned the faerie.

“I have much information, Sir, much information…” The man paused one moment too long.

“You fool, do you take me for one of your kind?” demanded the faerie. “Supply me with the information!”

“Y-yes, Sir. I overheard a conversation of two squires last evening in a tavern. It seems the Stone has been locked away, safeguarded in the New Domain. A knight from the Old Kingdom has been sent secretly to reclaim the treasure. This provides us a week, give or take, to intercept him and the Stone, assuming all plans are successful.” He waited for the faerie to respond.

“Very well,” spoke the faerie at last. “You have finally been of some assistance, Schalk. It seems the time has come for our Parting of the Ways…”

Schalk suddenly grabbed, clawed at his throat. A smirk played across the faerie’s face. The man sank to his knees. His fingers relaxed, and his arms fell to his sides. He keeled over, face flat in the marsh. The faerie turned and dissipated.

The man was left to eternity at the depths of the mire. But he needn’t worry over having soiled his garments.
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Now for a quick postface. I couldn't sleep, and felt like writing, so I wrote this very quickly. No editing or elaboration has yet been done, but I'll add some detail in shortly. With this I wish to write a quick novella to help me with some plot and character development for another project idea I have.

Interesting. Seems like a pretty cool beginning. If you're taking the story seriously though, you may want to shift the tone a little bit and make it a shade darker.

Also, this,

It seems the Stone has been locked away, safeguarded in the New Domain. A knight from the Old Kingdom has been sent secretly to reclaim the treasure.

had a few fantasy cliches in it. New Domain, Old Kingdom, etc.

Good start though.

Thanks, MetalHead.

Also, this,

It seems the Stone has been locked away, safeguarded in the New Domain. A knight from the Old Kingdom has been sent secretly to reclaim the treasure.

had a few fantasy cliches in it. New Domain, Old Kingdom, etc.

Actually, that's what I'm going for. I know, cliches are bad and all that. But I'm trying for a very archetypal hero/quest story.

Ah, I thought so.

What about the seriousness issue I mentioned?

Yes, I agree with the darker tone. I expect that will arise naturally as I add more detail to the story.

I'll work on it.

Thanks again!

It seems like a skeleton of a beginning, like a detailed outline with the dialogue. It really needs more details, particularly visual.

A slight, dark man sat in a corner, peering through a dingy window in a seedy tavern, out into the road ahead. Two cloaked horsemen galloped suddenly by, causing the man to jump. He glanced around the room, reaffirming its vacancy. It was well past middle-night. Still, caution one could never over exercise.

This is something that could be expanded into two or three much longer paragraphs. The thing to do is slow down and play with ideas, words, and images.

“Greetings, Schalk,” stated a powerful, piercing voice directly behind him. The man spun around. A faerie stood calmly, waiting for the reciprocal pleasantry.

What does this faerie look like? Everyone has their own idea of what a faerie should look like, and there are so many different kinds of faeries. Give us at least a few details, like how big it is, something about its wings, and maybe what colour its dress/clothing is.

As well, what this needs is for you to really make it your own. I read this it seems like you're just using ideas you've read, and not ideas you chose because it suits what you want to do. I'm all for using cliches and conventions, but you have to make it your own. That is why people enjoy watching Romeo and Juliet so many times. The actors and directors make it their own, and it seems almost like a different play.

Thanks, Rei, for the crit. As far as I can tell, everyone has said pretty much exactly what I have been thinking... That's good to know, I think.

I'll start adding in details tonight. I may begin Chapter One as well.

This is a very good beginning... Darker than what I personally like to read and write, but that doesn't make it any less well-written. Just make sure that the violence isn't unnecessary and just to get people's attention.

This seems interesting... It's well-written and I'd like to see how the plot develops.

Okay. Before I plunge into this critique, I should let you know that it might be a bit silly at times, but it's all well-intentioned. You've got an interesting premise, and if you work on certain aspects of the narrative, I think it could really become something very neat.

Now! Let's get started.

A slight, dark man sat in a corner, peering through a dingy window in a seedy tavern, out into the road ahead.

I bolded all the adjectives in this sentence just so that you'd get an idea of how absolutely cluttered it is. Way too wordy. Like Rei said, you've gotta take a deep breath (okay, maybe she didn't say exactly that), calm down, and don't rush the story. In this entire paragraph, you cram way too much information in a very short space, and not in any way that will interest your readers. I'll discuss this later on, but for now let's focus on this sentence. Pare down the adjectives. Take a little bit more time — i.e. more sentences — to describe this opening scene, instead of squeezing everything into one sentence. He's in a mostly empty, seedy tavern, right? Is he nursing a beer? Is the tavern dimly-lit? Are there very attractive barmaids hovering around? (A very attractive bartender?)

Remember also to describe this from the character's perspective. To run with the barmaid/bartender example; if he's gay, chances are he'll be more inclined to describe how pretty the bartender is (if the bartender's pretty) than the gorgeous barmaids. Pretend you're a slight dark man named Schalk, sitting in a seedy tavern, and describe what you see.

Two cloaked horsemen galloped suddenly by, causing the man to jump.

This is your moment! Action finally happens! The guy's been nursing his drink (I assume), ogling the bartender (maybe not), and waiting around in nervous twitchy paranoia, and suddenly — bam! Horsemen! Cloaked horsemen! In the dark of the night! If this were a movie from the seventies, the cheesy scary music would be cranked up to the point of eardrum-bursting. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but this is exciting. Kind of. Or rather, it should be exciting. You've hit the oh-so-common pitfall of telling, not showing, thus dooming your readers to an eternity of dark anguished sadness. That's awfully sucky.

Remember that you're telling the story from Schalk's perspective, so again, pretend you're in his shoes. To demonstrate, I'll pretend I'm in his shoes. I'm Schalk, happy disposable villain #1. I'm terrified, slightly tipsy, and paranoid like a tinfoil-wearing conspiracy theorist who thinks aliens are after his nonexistent offspring. I'm about to pass Super Secret Information to a scary evil magic-wielding faerie dude. Suddenly, I hear thunder. Oh crap! I'm scared. My hands shake. I might spill a bit of my drink. I watch furtively from the window, my heart thumping in my throat so loudly that it sounds like I ate a tapdancing elephant. Horsemen! Double crap. I know they're going to stop at the tavern and descend upon me, because I have rotten luck, and because karma sucks, and because bad guys always get their Just Desserts. I hold my breath. The horsemen thunder past, churning up dirt and stones. If I'm a drama queen, I might gasp for air. My hands are still shaking. My heart is still pounding. That was a close call, I think.

...something like that. I might have gone a little overboard, but you get the idea, right? Roleplay. Remember your character's state of mind, and think about how he'd react. Think about his thoughts. Think about what he sees, what he focuses on. Then write about it.

It was well past middle-night.

Middle-night = midnight. Trust me, "middle-night" doesn't give the story an archaic vibe. I promise.

He glanced around the room, reaffirming its vacancy.

Again: this isn't exciting! I know it's an empty tavern and therefore about as exciting as a decomposing onion, but give us some atmosphere. When you say "vacancy", do you really mean that there's no one else in the bar? (Because wow, that's gotta suck for the tavern owner.) Does our man Schalk take in the peeling paint, the strange smell coming from under one of the tables (possibly a dead squirrel)? Where's the bartender? Is he polishing a glass, as all good cliché bartenders do? Also, why does he (Schalk, that is) care if the place is empty? Is he mildly curious? Is he suspicious and paranoid? Is he lonely?

You gotta remember that character drives narrative. I can't say this enough: the character is the reader's window into the story. We're the blind led by our specially trained dog (and possibly a nifty-looking cane), and if our specially trained dog sits and stares at a lamp post all day, we'll be sitting and staring right beside him. We don't know anything about this world except for what our character tells us, so our character's got to poke and pry and see things and report back to us. We have to be able to understand him, empathize with him, connect with him. Yeah, this is Schalk's only appearance (I assume, anyway) and he will be discarded once his function has been filled, but for the two minutes that we DO see him, we have to feel for him. He has to carry us through this stretch of the narrative.

Still, caution one could never over exercise.

Unless you're Yoda (or speak Latin, or are a Latin-speaking Yoda), it's not okay to talk like this. It's awkward and clunky, and should be, "Still, one could never over-exercise caution." Note that the "over-exercise" should be hyphenated. Also, "one" sounds kind of stilted and overly formal. If that's what you're going for, I guess it works, but otherwise anything from "you could never over-exercise" to "he could never" would be sufficient replacement.

Now it's time for me to ramble again. Like I said before, there are two fundamental problems with this paragraph:

1. Way too much happens.

2. It's phrased in a relatively bland manner.

For #1: take a look at what happens in this paragraph. Then, pretend that the paragraph was just a rough outline for what you were really going to write, which of course is MUCH more in-depth, and embraces our wonderfully excellent "show, don't tell" adage. If you want to start the story with a bit of excitement, begin with the horsemen. They gallop down the road, scaring an already-terrified Schalk. That's when we get some character introduction. Incorporate atmosphere. And always remember that you are telling it from the point of view of Character X, in this case Schalk, and so you're going to have to infuse the story with his personality for the time being. This, hopefully, should also take care of #2.

As he reverted his focus to the road, he noticed a mere pinprick of illumination, weaving its way across the trampled dirt and into a nearby fen.

"Mere" is somewhat redundant with "pinprick", and "illumination" is kinda vague. Is it a sparkly purple light? Flashlight? Does it dance? Is there a dim figure holding the light, or walking alongside the light? Does the light radiate off a wee evil magic-wielding Darth Vader-esque faerie dude? We need more information.

The man moved quickly, purposefully, out of the tavern and across the road.

Again — description! I don't want you to innundate your story with forty pages of Tolkienesque exposition, but for the love of all that is holy to you and me and your pet monkey, give us something to hang onto. When he leaves the tavern, does a blast of cold air hit him? Does a blast of warm air hit him? Does he pay the bartender (checking him out one last time as he hands over the money) before he leaves? Does he shrug on a coat? Does he put his hands in his pockets?

"Moved quickly, purposefully" is unnecessarily wordy when you think about all the sparkly little verbs that describe movement and that would flow MUCH better in the sentence. The one that I think fits this context is "strides", but just think of the wealth of words: saunters, stumbles, dances, flits, etc. This is why a thesaurus is godly.

“Greetings, Schalk,” stated a powerful, piercing voice directly behind him. The man spun around. A faerie stood calmly, waiting for the reciprocal pleasantry.

I have to admit, I have a hard time imagining this powerful piercing voice. How does the voice pierce? Is it extremely high-pitched to the point of shattering glasss? I can imagine piercing eyes, but not a piercing voice — you're going to have to use a much more specific descriptor than this.

And again, I'll point out that there are many other, more powerful verbs that can replace "stated". It's a clunky verb to begin with, but when you can indicate the "powerful, piercing voice" through the verb itself (by using a verb like "boomed"), it becomes even more useless. Once again, befriend your local thesaurus. It won't bite, and is actually sometimes helpful!

“G-g-greetings, Sir,” Schalk stammered.

"Sir" should be uncapitalized.

“Pray tell, what information have you?” questioned the faerie.

"Questioned" is another one of those really clunky verbs. Use something like "asked" or even "demanded" (see how those two words have slightly different meanings?), either of which flow much better.

“I have much information, Sir, much information…” The man paused one moment too long.

Again: no capitalization on "sir".

Also, why did Schalk pause? Was he having second thoughts? Was he trying to be dramatic? Did he have a fly up his nose?

He waited for the faerie to respond.

This is kind of unnecessary, but judging by the next paragraph, I'm going to assume (correct me if I'm wrong!) that you're trying to indicate that the faerie d ude is taking a Really Long Time to respond. Or slightly longer than usual. In any case, this sentence doesn't really convey that sentiment. At all. So I'd suggest possibly rewording.

“Very well,” spoke the faerie at last. “You have finally been of some assistance, Schalk. It seems the time has come for our Parting of the Ways…”

Don't capitalize "Parting of the Ways" — makes it a little cheesy, you know?

Schalk suddenly grabbed, clawed at his throat.

WHOA.

Remember that this is all from Schalk's point of view. Think of the drama! He's dying! Not only is he dying, he's dying like he's out of a Star Wars movie. This is pivotal and Very Exciting and Dramatic. Moreover, chances are extremely high that's he's VERY terrified — I assume he's strangling himself, but if he's not, this death sequence is very unclear — and we need to feel that. Are his eyes rolling? Is he flailing? Struggling? Crying? Gasping? Is his heartbeat zooming up again? Is his head feeling light? Is his head feeling heavy? Is he thinking: ohgod I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die?

It's dramatic! It's scary! Now let us readers FEEL that emotion, that tension, that betrayal. This guy's just been metaphorically knifed in the gut, stabbed in the back, and fed to evil mutant llamas. Recreate this drama and illustrate it for us.

But he needn’t worry over having soiled his garments.

This is a bit awkwardly worded. It took me a couple of tries to understand exactly what it meant, simply because the phrasing is ambiguous enough to mean a couple of other things. Even something like "At least he wouldn't have to change those soiled garments" would be more specific.

Phew! That's all. A few things before I finally leave you alone. The story, as it stands right now, is a bit scattered and lacks focus. It's kind of all over the place right now. Too much is happening, and you jump from plot point to plot point without really stopping to focus on the details. That's the main problem, I think. Otherwise, good luck on the editing! If you have any questions or need anything clarified, feel free to ask.

Thank you, very, very (repeat "very" infinitely) much, smaur. A few of the diction points you mentioned I have fixed in my draft, waiting on my desk for submission. But the vast majority I had not considered, so it's wonderful to hear your suggestions.

I tend to write in the passive voice. When I revise, it either stays there, or it transitions very poorly to a...sedentary voice.

I will edit the prologue, printed copy of your critique in hand, and post a revised edition soon- hopefully.

Thank you again.

P.S. (..I must admit...it felt a bit like Dave Barry critiquing me. That's a good thing. )