Young Writers Society

This is my first post on here. Please comment on it. This is only a brief part of the story.

Night settled on the small village of Tunvil. Nothing stirred in the little town and the only lights still on came from Loksley’s Smith, because poor Loksley had fallen asleep while making his final batch of horseshoes. Tunvil was located in a valley, surrounded by a forest, deep in the northern reaches of the land of Glesid. A branch of the Agest River split the village in two, one side being a series of residential cottages, the other being businesses and official buildings. The people of Tunvil separated themselves from the troubles of Glesid, from the wars of elves and dark lords. The townsfolk preferred to live a simple life and cared nothing about things that happened outside of the village. They lived this way since the forming of Glesid and only few things changed their daily schedule.
One of those things was the discovery of a large pearl, about a third of a man’s fist, stuck in the large fishing nets, strung across the Agest. The local fishermen used large nets to catch any fish coming down the river, but one day, the fishermen noticed the shiny pearl in the net, along with the regular Bluetides, good size fish that were the main meal fish. But things weren’t right; all of the fish were dead. The nets were in the water the whole time and needed to be pulled out to retrieve what was caught in them, so there was no way that the fish could have suffocated. Confused about what had happened, the fishermen simply shrugged it off as an unexplainable occurrence, returning to their simple lives, as if nothing had happened. Not knowing what to do with the pearl, the fishermen sold it to the smith, Loksley, who had a great interest in rare gems. But no one in Tunvil suspected what the pearl really was, and sadly, the town would pay dearly for their ignorance.
Standing on a hill before Tunvil, two black horses, their hair groomed finely, stamped their feet impatiently. Their riders stood before them, surveying the village.
“Patience is a virtue some say. But the time for patience is over; we shall retrieve the Heraphod now.”
The leader of the two figures said in a silky voice. Their eyes glowed pure white and long crimson hair flowed behind them. Dressed in black, hoodless robes, they resembled priests. At each ones side, there was a long rapier, the hilt of each sword having a circular design made of diamonds. Returning to their horses, the two journeyed to the village. They slowly made their way down the valley side until they came to the foot of the river. The horses backed away from the blackness of water, lacking the courage of their masters. Reluctantly, the horses entered the river, sloshing their way across it, to the business side of Tunvil. There was a bridge located in the center of the village, connecting the two sides, but it was well lighted and the figures who rode through the water preferred to travel under darkness.
Finally across the river, the two dismounted their horses and crept their way through the shadows, finally coming to the door of Loksley the smith. Pressing his hand to the large wooden door, the leader of the two chanted a quick prayer to their god. The area around his hand began to glow white and the area spread across the door like fire. When the door was completely covered by the glow, he backed away and they both closed their eyes. The door smoldered to nothing but ash and left and open space to walk through. Before entering the smith shop, the leader withdrew a tiny black orb from his robe and tossed it inside of the shop. The light from within the building was vanquished as if a wind had blown out the candle and the two walked into the dark room. In one corner of the room laid Loksley, a burly man with arms the size of tree trunks, awakened from his sleep and staring into the darkness before him.
“Eh, what’s going on here? Who blew out my candle?” Loksley yelled into the darkness before him.
“Shut up, you pathetic waste of life. Where is the Heraphod?” the leader said.
“I don’t know about any Heraphod, but if that’s how you’re going to be I’ll give you a fight.” Loksley replied.
He leapt from his chair surprisingly quick for a big man and swung at the figures with his fist. Without flinching, the leader’s pale hand snatched Loksley around the neck and lifted him off of the floor. Pressing hard around his neck, the leader asked one more time
“Where is the Heraphod pearl? Tell me now or I shall not hesitate to crush you.”
Barely able to think, Loksley pointed to a pile of tools, atop a stone counter. Dropping him to the ground, the leader walked to the tools. Lying on a piece of dirty leather was the Heraphod, one of the three Pearls of Chaos. It looked like any regular pearl, besides the fact that it was large. His eyes alit with joy; he picked up the pearl and placed it in his black robe.
“Who are you foul people?” Loksley gasped from his position on the floor.
“Who are we is the wrong question. What are we suits us more. We are NightWraiths; creatures of the dark. But that information will be of little use to you now.” The NightWraith leader said, exiting the door, followed by the other NightWraith.
Remounting their horses, the two entered into a speedy gallop until they arrived at a safe distance from the village.
Turning back to Tunvil, the NightWraith leader declared in a loud voice “Now to finish what was started centuries ago by our forefathers.”
Raising their hands in the direction of Tunvil, they chanted a long forgotten language, in unison. An energy began to build in their palms, until it became a large ball above them, as darker than night. Releasing the energy, it swirled until it was directly above the town. Suddenly, the ball of energy dropped in midair, falling towards the sleeping Tunvil. Fire erupted from the ball of energy and quickly engulfed the village. Screams could be heard as people were awoken from their sleep and ran to flee the flames. As the village burned, the NightWraiths did not notice a single horse flee the blaze, riding into the forest. Pleased with their work, the two NightWraiths turned and rode away, the pearl of Heraphod safely tucked in the leader’s robe.

Interesting--

There were a few grammatical errors, IE

It looked like any regular pearl, besides the fact that it was large

"besides," should be "beside"--also, that's a strange word choice for that sentence, maybe instead of "beside the fact," use "except"?

Also, there were a few run-ons, especially when describing the fishing.

Overall, it was an interesting concept, and you left me looking for more--all I would like to see is a little more description of the town and perhaps the Nightwraiths--using "the leader" to describe the primary Nightwraith didn't really give me a mental picture of what to imagine him as. You gave us the general appearance of the men, but nothing further, so we have no distinction between the two characters--maybe this was intentional; if that's the case, you did it well.

Anyway, lookin' forward to more,
--Hunter

i will add detail of the nighwraiths in a later section. thanks for the grammar tip.

Here's another part of my story.

Slowly, things began to take form in front of Dathor’s face. He blinked his eyes and looked about once more. Things were still hard to see though, because he was in a dark room, only a sliver of light shining in from a crack in the ceiling above him. The room was small, barely big enough for him to stand. The ground was dirt, and as Dathor studied the room more, he realized that it wasn’t a room at all, but a pit in the ground. The ceiling above him was actually a metal grating, designed to let air in.
Dathor tried to stand, but his legs felt as if they had been running for many days. Struggling to hold himself against the dirt wall, Dathor pulled himself up and leaned against the wall. He stood for several minutes, regaining his strength, and then reached for the metal grating above him. The grate moved relatively easily, and Dathor tried to grab for something to pull himself up with. But there were no roots or branches that he could easily grab hold of, so Dathor started to go back to resting. As he did, a hand grabbed his arm, and hoisted him up out of the hole.
Dathor was startled by being pulled out of the pit that he had been in. He steadied himself and then stood to his feet. He was in a small clearing in a forest. Next to him was the hole that he had been in and next to that was a small area where a campfire had recently burned. The person that had pulled him out of the pit was standing behind him, concealed by the shadows of the forest.
“General, I hope that you are feeling well. I apologize for having to drug you but there was not enough time to explain to you why we had to go.”
Dathor turned to face his captor. The person stood almost a whole head taller than Dathor and well muscled, but not heavy or bulky. His frame was one of a warrior who had trained his whole life. The figure stepped into the light that the sun shown down, illuminating his clothing. He was dressed in a dark red tunic, like those worn by merchants or city workers, but the fabric was smooth yet strong. At his waist hung a short scabbard with a curved sword and a bow, along with a full quiver, was on his back.
“Tell me who you are and why you have kidnapped me, or we’ll see if you can use that sword you carry.” Dathor threatened. The warrior stepped forward, his long silver hair shimmering against his dark tan skin.
“Please, do not be angry. You must understand that this was the only way I could protect you from the Qulan.” A broad smile crossed the face of the warrior. “You will come to see soon enough.” With that, he turned his attention to the pit that Dathor had been in. He picked up the grate and placed it back over the hole.
“Do you put all of your guests in pits in the ground?” Dathor asked with sarcasm in his voice.
The warrior faced Dathor again but this time his face no longer had a smile. “You truly have no idea what is happening, do you? This is most disturbing” Dathor looked at the man quizzically. “I have had enough of these riddles!” Without hesitation, he lunged forward toward the warrior’s sword, but to no avail. The warrior laid a quick blow to Dathor’s shoulder, sending him doubling over. He stooped down until his face was even with Dathor’s.
“I have been a fool to believe that you would understand so easily. But I will explain now, if it will set your mind at ease.” He said.
Smoke from burning craters in the battlefield wafted up past La’Pol’s face. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he watched his brothers and friends fall to the enemy onslaught. He wept because he could do nothing to help in the fight and he would not be dieing along side them. He was watching his comrades from the wrong side of the battlefield. He stood among the enemy. His people would think of him as a traitor. But his superiors knew that he was loyal. He was on a mission of espionage, to infiltrate the ranks of the Dark Lord and learn of the Heraphod that they possessed. La’Pol was to let himself be captured and kept as a war prisoner, and the enemy would not be able to resist probing his mind for secrets. The Ezkai were losing the war against the dark forces. And even with their alliance with the treacherous Qulan, they were not strong enough to resist the powers of evil. From somewhere behind La’Pol, the disfigured commander yelled for the black trolls to progress forward, towards the main fighting. La’Pol watched in horror as the trolls marched through the Alliance troops, unstoppable giants who mercilessly destroyed his people. The fighting was over within minutes, and the combined forces of the Ezkai warrior elves and Qulan hill monks retreated into the darkness. La’Pol let out a scream of agony to mourn his fallen friends.
The age of darkness was over. Long past were the historic battles and the ancient alliance between the Ezkai and Qulan. Few were left that remembered the war; those who did no longer had the warrior spirit, they only sat on the Council and settled the bickering with the Qulan tribes. But there was one who still heard the call of a warrior, one who still lusted after the battlefield. La’Pol, the only Ezkai to stand face to face with the Dark Lord himself, and survive to fight another day. His legendary mission to infiltrate the enemy’s army had been a success that turned the tide of the war. He was exalted as a hero, but only he knew of the scars that he bore, on his body and soul. His mind had been taken apart, examined using evil magic, and finally put back together. But goblin wielders no nothing of elf minds, and they left La’Pol as a raging brute. His sentience no longer intact, La’Pol slaughtered any who stood in his path. Free of the enemy’s clutches, he wandered aimlessly through the wilderness, his mind slowly rebuilding. Many years later, La’Pol’s mind completely stable again, he found a human outpost. But the humans refused to allow him to go back to his people. Reluctantly, La’Pol did not fight the humans. He lived with the humans, slowly gaining influence with them. And then, not more than two years after his confinement, he was released to go back to his people. The Ezkai accepted him back with open arms, but few that he had known were still alive. Anyone that still remembered war was old and feeble. But La’Pol looked as if he was an experienced warrior, still in his prime. This was a mystery, and most looked at it as a miracle gift given to him because of the sacrifice he made during the war. La’Pol learned that the Alliance had defeated the dark forces with the help of the humans. And his mission had been a success. When the Aguls had examined his secrets, they found that the humans were going to join the Alliance. But with further examination they found that the secrets were fake, made to look real through much practice. What the Aguls did not know was that the secrets were real, only made to look false. With the help of the humans, the Alliance took the enemy by surprise, sending them back to the firepits that spawned them.
Many years later, all from the time of the war were long dead, except for La’Pol. The alliance that had once held the Ezkai and Qulan together was no more. After the war the Qulan tribes had not went back to their mountain homes. Instead they stayed in the forests of the warrior elves. The barriers between the two cultures became blurred with time, the Qulan becoming the dominant force. La’Pol did not agree with how the Qulan ruled and he sought to make things like they were before the war. But to no avail, none stood on his side. So La’Pol gave into the Qulan and watched his once great people deteriorate to a mere shadow. All were not at peace though. The Qulan tribes hated the humans for leaving the Alliance after the war was over. Now they continuously plotted for a way to get revenge. Their most recent plot was something that one of their scouts had stumbled upon. A Qulan scout named Refando had learned that the leader of the rebellion against Valen was joining the Empire and turning his troops over. This would not at all. The Wispen Bandits, as they called themselves, were a great thorn in the Empire’s side. The Qulan took quick action to assure that the thorn would remain in place, and they devised a plan to capture Dathor, the leader of the rebellion, in order to persuade him to stay opposed to the Empire.
La’ Pol vowed that he would not let any harm come to the soldier. He would not risk his people going to war against the humans. By rescuing him from harm, La’Pol was making himself an enemy of the Qulan and his own people, the Ezkai. He had now come too far to turn back. His life was now intertwined with Captain Dathor’s.
“And that is my story. Now General, will you come with me peacefully?” La’Pol asked.
Dathor studied the warrior. “Let me ask you a question. Why do you call me General? I was only a soldier in the Valen military, and in Wispen I was referred to as Captain. General does not fit me.” He said.
“Dathor, I believe that your destiny is great. Others will believe it too. It is your fate to lead a new band across Glesid. This country is in turmoil, and without a strong leader the free people will fall to another dark lord and his evil creatures. I follow you now, and more will come, if only you will have this task upon you. So I call you General because you will lead many, and be the victor over evil.” With this, La’pol bowed slightly.
“What great evil is it that you talk of? I have had another come to me and tell me something very similar. Why anyone would think that I am destined for greatness is beyond me,” He paused, “I will go along with your plan for now, but I cannot guarantee that I’m going to be the savior of Glesid. First though, I need certain items. When you took me from my camp I didn’t have anything with me, how am I to save this country without a single sword?”
“General, I would not have started on such a quest without having a sturdy plan. You have been asleep in that pit for two risings of the sun. Believe me; you were in there for you own protection. If I had left you lying on the ground here, a wild creature would surely have attacked you. After having you safely in there, I went back to your camp and retrieved some items that looked important and necessary. They are over in that patch of trees.” He said, pointing to a small grove.
Dathor walked over to where La’Pol had pointed. A large chest sat open upon the ground. In it were his two swords which he had with him when he was kidnapped, his light armor, a small collection of ancient history and strategy books, and a small collection of survival items. He reached into the crate and retrieved an item that he did not recognize at first. It was Jaheb’s staff. Dathor turned to La’Pol.
“Why did you bring this?” He asked La’Pol.
“You may not know what it is but I am experienced in the ancient weapon makings. This staff is a special weapon, capable of sweeping through the hordes of darkness. Very few weapons like it were ever made. Creatures of evil greatly fear it, and for good reason. Their eyes can see the power of good that resonates from it. Swing this staff at a group of Aguls and an unseen force will crush them into the ground. They are very rare weapons, said to be blessed by Celyus himself. You would be wise to keep the staff close.” La’Pol replied.
“Do you think the former keeper of the staff knew of its power?”
“Hmm. Who was the former keeper?”
“His name was Jaheb. He was a royal priest in the Church of Valen. I obtained this staff when my troops captured him during a small raid. I kept it because it was finely crafted. He was an odd man though. Surely he knew of the power.”
“Yes. A priest would be in tune with the resonation. Where is this priest now? Hopefully not still in a prison cell.” La’Pol said with a slight humor in his voice.
“He vanished from the cell when he was finished speaking with me. He spoke of my destiny. Maybe he left the staff because he knew I would need in. Or maybe he just forgot. No matter.” Dathor said.
“We better get moving. We have been here for much too long. The Qulan will know soon that they have been betrayed. They will scour the surrounding lands for many miles. Though, we should be safe by the time we make it to the eastern outpost of Nevilgia.”
Dathor looked confused. “It would take us close to two weeks to get to Nevilgia on foot.”
“My friend,” La’Pol replied, “that is why we are not going on foot. I took the liberty to retrieve two horses from your camp. Follow me.” He marched into the tree line, closely followed by Dathor. In the cover of the trees were two horses, royal stallions by the looks. One was pure white, the same horse that the priest Jaheb had rode, the other a light brown steed.
Dathor retrieved his gear and prepared to leave. The few possessions that La’Pol had retrieved for him were in two leather saddlebags, his short sword was at his side, his broadsword was attached to a saddlebag, and he wore his light armor. La’Pol only had a few survival items in a saddlebag and Jaheb’s staff sttached on ther other side of the horse.
“La’Pol, can you get us to Nevilgia?” Dathor asked.
“General, when I was a scout for the Ezkai, during my early years, I plotted trails all across Glesid. I assure you we will be in Nevilgia within a week.” La’Pol replied.
The matter settled, La’Pol made sure that any signs that they had been there were gone and that everything was in place. It would not do if the Qulan knew what direction they were headed. The two mounted their horses and started their way east, across the forest; Dathor following behind the warrior elf.

I hate forums because nobody ever gives me any feedback on my writing

Evaluation

Nothing stirred in the little town and the only lights still on came from Loksley’s Smith, because poor Loksley had fallen asleep while making his final batch of horseshoes.

This sentence is too long. Consider breaking it in two after 'Loksey's Smith.'

... located in a valley surrounded by a forest ...

The comma seperating the words 'valley' and 'surrounded' is not necessary.

The local fishermen used large nets to catch any fish coming down the river, but one day, the fishermen noticed the shiny pearl in the net, along with the regular Bluetides, good size fish that were the main meal fish.

This sentence may be split in two, or even three. You may consider eliminating unnecessary information so as to make it shorter and more easily understood. Unnecessary information includes the Bluetides. You may mention that later.

An example:

'It had happened some time ago, when the local fishermen noticed a shining pearl. It had been caught in the large nets that they streached the breadth of the river.'

The leader of the two figures said in a silky voice.

You must follow the quote of this character directly by ending the quotations with a comma.

At each one's side, there ...

Seperate the two letters 'e' and 's' with an apostrophe in the word 'ones'.

There was a bridge located in the center of the village, connecting the two sides, but it was well lighted and the figures who rode through the water preferred to travel under darkness.

Consider splitting this sentence in two.

Replace the word 'lighted' with 'lit'.

Finally across the river, the two dismounted their horses and crept their way through the shadows, finally coming to the door of Loksley the smith.

The use of the word is used twice in this sentence. And again, consider splitting this sentence in two.

In one corner of the room laid Loksley, a burly man with arms the size of tree trunks, awakened from his sleep and staring into the darkness before him.

Consider either splitting this sentence into two sentences, or fix the word usage after the second clause.

pile of tools atop a stone counter.

The comma that seperates the words 'tools' and 'atop' is not necessary.

... as darker than night.

This excerpt makes little to no sense. Consider reworking this small section.


Analysis

You may wish to elaborate on the description in the story. You do provide alot, yet one may mistake such large net not likely to catch such a small crystal. Most nets aren't that fine to catch something so small, unless of course those fish you spoke of were small themselves. Consider adding description.

It would be necessary to double space your paragraphs. Though the assumption that your audiance will understand that there is a new paragraph, the use of double spacing paragraphs makes it less tedious to the reader. It simply makes it easier and is well worth nearly a minute of either entering or performing some process.

And you might consider finding something other than NightWraiths for they reminded me too well of Lord of the Rings. I was slightly taken aback when they did not screach and have a raspy voices, so that was more so original. You may just have to change their name and it could definately impact the story.

Fortunately, the only other comment I have on your story is the length of chapter one. It could definately become more than 1100 words even. But it is done quite well as it stands now.


Literary Grading

Opening: -----|----
Individuality: ----|-----
Originality: ----|-----
Presentation: -----|----
Permanence: ------|---
Enthusiasm: ------|---
Regularity: -----|----
Conflict: -----|----
Influence: -----|----
Ending: -----|----
Overall: -----|---- 6.0 FAIR

Literary Grading

Literary Grading Cont.

thanks for the critique. it seems nowadays you can't use the word wraith without people getting an image of the Nazgul from lord of the rings. thanks though.

[u]1st part of the story[/u]

Its a very imaginative piece, with a good storyline. There is quite a few grammatical errors though and the story is a bit rushed. You give too much away. One should aim to make the reader feel curious, to feel the need to read on. You need to add more mystery to it. Your dialog needs a little work too and try to elaborate with your description of the Night wraiths.

[u]2nd Part[/u]

This is far too rushed! And like said before, you need to work on the grammar. I also found that i felt very distant from the whole story, you should try to focus more on one or two characters so that the reader can bulid a kind of relationship with the character(s) and understand how the character(s) is feeling.

"those who did no longer had the warrior spirit".
I think you meant 'those who no longer had the warrior spirit' or 'those who did no longer have the warrior spirit'.

Towards the end of the ext i found myself getting slightly bored. You were telling far too much all at once and i found it extremely hard to comprehend!

Last of all, I did not understand the following at all!
"But with further examination they found that the secrets were fake, made to look real with much practice. What the Aguls did not know was that the secrets were real, only made to look false".

Just remember, practise makes perfect and you're doing ok. Just keep writing!

Looks good so far--

Nothing to add that Aebitrator and Akisha haven't already said...

this is a really cool story, very nice plot, it seems just a little like lord of the rings, any way good job, im waiting to read more of this story.

yes i have heard people say this is like lord of the rings. they say that the nightwraiths are like ringwraiths. well, if you would read carefully you would see that they look different and sound different and act different. i have already went into detail on them in later chapters. also they compare the Heraphods to the Rings of Power and such. i will go into detail on the heraphods powers later.

well, the Nightwraiths are human....are they not?

Another chapter... enjoy, i know the paragraphs run together but the final copy is fixed.


The sun sat high above Vales, the capitol city of the Kingdom of Valen. Birds fluttered though the air, ushering the warmth and life of spring back into the city. But in the Great Hall, where important politicians and dignitaries sat listening to a frightened man ramble, death still lingered, waiting to strike.
“Why should we believe this man? He is just a lowly blacksmith from a small village. He does not know how this kingdom works.” A flustered senator said. “He has not received any schooling and we have proven that his eyesight is much dulled from working in hazardous conditions. I say we disregard the preposterous view of this one person and have our own investigation.” With that, the senator sat back down in his seat, satisfied that he had made his point. Throughout the vast hall, many senators, governors, and other various political leaders, sat on regal looking marble steps, or leaned against the giant pillars that supported the Great Hall. At one end of the hall sat Chancellor Wentis, the head over everything in the Kingdom of Valen, his power greater than all but the King himself. The Chancellor sat on his simple styled chair, black with streaks of silver in it. His head bore no hair, only a thin white headband, tied in the back.
Politicians continued to argue down the hall, but Wentis seemed apart from it all. He glanced at several senators bickering with each other, and then turned to the imposing guards on either side of him.
“I have made my decision on this matter and I grow restless of listening to these fools argue.” Wentis said quietly.
Tilting his head towards the Chancellor, one of the guards replied, “Yes Chancellor Wentis. I shall end the meeting.” Then stepping a few steps forward, the guard let out a bellow, “
The Chancellor has spoken. This meeting concerning the disaster at Tunvil is now over. Please leave the Great Hall in an orderly fashion.”
With looks of annoyance on their faces, the politicians slowly shuffled to the massive doors leading to the outer court of the Great Hall.
“Old Wentis, he always ends the court without hearing all sides of the story. It’s just like him to dismiss court when we are starting to push him out of his comfort zone.” A politician said in the crowd.
Wentis took one look back at the crowd as he mounted his single horse carriage. A look of shock crossed his face. Before him was a seen of chaos, as senators and other important men stood beating on the large doors that led out of the building. But the doors stood closed, not to be opened by any natural forces. Behind the crowd of people, a lone figure emerged from the shadows of the room, dressed in clothes darker than night itself, wrapped tightly to his body. A cape flowed about him like a crimson flag, hiding him beneath it. Wentis studied the character closely, paused, and then signaled to his guards. The guards, who had been watching the person inside the Great Hall, stepped forward at the Chancellor’s singal.
“Guards, get me out of here. I do not know what is going on in there but I have no wish to have my life in danger.” The Chancellor said.
The guard in charge closed the door to the Great Hall, which Wentis had used, and climbed upon the front of the carriage.
“You two stay here and make sure no one pursues us.” The two guards wore shiny plate armor across their chests and wore thick chain mail pants. At their sides hung basic military swords, thick handled, the blade being as long as a man’s arm. The guards stood on either side of the doorway and watched as the Chancellor’s carriage rolled into the distance.
From inside the Great Hall came many noises, screaming and shouting for help along with cries of agony, until there was nothing but an eerie silence. The guards looked to each other with nervous expressions but continued to stand their ground, until they heard a soft knock on the door they guarded. Startled, they turned to face the door.
“Who is there?” One of them asked. No reply came though. Again, the knock came, though this time it was a bit louder.
“Ok, whoever you are we’ve had enough of this game. Tell us who you are or we’ll go in there and drag it out of you!” The guard who was slightly shorter than the other guard, said.
“Gentlemen, such harsh actions will not be required.” A cold, yet smooth like honey, voice said from behind the men, who were still facing the door. Spinning around, the guards drew their swords and stood in a battle ready stance. The person who had startled them was none other than the same man who had been inside the Great Hall.
“What! How did you get out here?” The taller guard said. The man ignored the question; instead, he swung his arm out towards the guard, a small dagger leaving his hand as he did. The dagger lodged itself in the guard’s throat, sending him to his knees. Shocked, the other guard swung his sword towards the man in a slow slashing manner. The swing was easily dodged by the darkly clothed man, who counterattacked with a sweeping kick that took out the guard’s legs. The guard dropped his sword as his head struck, dealing a deathly blow.
“Now tell me, why did you foolishly give your life for that incompetent waste of life that you call Chancellor? Was it a sense of honor? Or were you just caught in a routine of following orders? No matter. If you are found by anyone before you die, tell them that Refando of the Q’ulan is here and that we will have vengeance.” With that, he turned and walked down the abandoned alley, a pool of blood already becoming quite large around the guards.

*cough* ...proofread, please. There are several grammatical errors.

The most prominent among them: dialogue punctuation. I think it's just because you aren't aware of it... Unless it's a proper noun, it is NOT capitolized unless the dialogue is followed by a separate sentence. Also, a period becomes a comma (with a few exceptions).

"Hi," said Fred.

"Hi," Fred said.

Fred said, "Hi." (notice the period)

"Hi." Fred didn't know what else to say. (Also, notice the period is there. It separates it from the second sentence.)

"Hi!" he said.

"Hi!" Fred said.

etc...If I'm as clear as mud, (and I may be) go check out a link for dialogue punctuation.

Your story. I think it's a great idea, with a good plot. However, I have to ask: Do you know your characters well? L'Pol's "flashback" left me cold. Don't tell-show us. There's not a limit to how much you can write. I think you're rushing a little.

Smoke from burning craters in the battlefield wafted up past La’Pol’s face. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he watched his brothers and friends fall to the enemy onslaught. He wept because he could do nothing to help in the fight and he would not be dieing along side them. He was watching his comrades from the wrong side of the battlefield. He stood among the enemy. His people would think of him as a traitor. But his superiors knew that he was loyal. He was on a mission of espionage, to infiltrate the ranks of the Dark Lord and learn of the Heraphod that they possessed. La’Pol was to let himself be captured and kept as a war prisoner, and the enemy would not be able to resist probing his mind for secrets. The Ezkai were losing the war against the dark forces. And even with their alliance with the treacherous Qulan, they were not strong enough to resist the powers of evil. From somewhere behind La’Pol, the disfigured commander yelled for the black trolls to progress forward, towards the main fighting. La’Pol watched in horror as the trolls marched through the Alliance troops, unstoppable giants who mercilessly destroyed his people. The fighting was over within minutes, and the combined forces of the Ezkai warrior elves and Qulan hill monks retreated into the darkness. La’Pol let out a scream of agony to mourn his fallen friends.
The age of darkness was over. Long past were the historic battles and the ancient alliance between the Ezkai and Qulan. Few were left that remembered the war; those who did no longer had the warrior spirit, they only sat on the Council and settled the bickering with the Qulan tribes. But there was one who still heard the call of a warrior, one who still lusted after the battlefield. La’Pol, the only Ezkai to stand face to face with the Dark Lord himself, and survive to fight another day. His legendary mission to infiltrate the enemy’s army had been a success that turned the tide of the war. He was exalted as a hero, but only he knew of the scars that he bore, on his body and soul. His mind had been taken apart, examined using evil magic, and finally put back together. But goblin wielders no nothing of elf minds, and they left La’Pol as a raging brute. His sentience no longer intact, La’Pol slaughtered any who stood in his path. Free of the enemy’s clutches, he wandered aimlessly through the wilderness, his mind slowly rebuilding. Many years later, La’Pol’s mind completely stable again, he found a human outpost. But the humans refused to allow him to go back to his people. Reluctantly, La’Pol did not fight the humans. He lived with the humans, slowly gaining influence with them. And then, not more than two years after his confinement, he was released to go back to his people. The Ezkai accepted him back with open arms, but few that he had known were still alive. Anyone that still remembered war was old and feeble. But La’Pol looked as if he was an experienced warrior, still in his prime. This was a mystery, and most looked at it as a miracle gift given to him because of the sacrifice he made during the war. La’Pol learned that the Alliance had defeated the dark forces with the help of the humans. And his mission had been a success. When the Aguls had examined his secrets, they found that the humans were going to join the Alliance. But with further examination they found that the secrets were fake, made to look real through much practice. What the Aguls did not know was that the secrets were real, only made to look false. With the help of the humans, the Alliance took the enemy by surprise, sending them back to the firepits that spawned them.
Many years later, all from the time of the war were long dead, except for La’Pol. The alliance that had once held the Ezkai and Qulan together was no more. After the war the Qulan tribes had not went back to their mountain homes. Instead they stayed in the forests of the warrior elves. The barriers between the two cultures became blurred with time, the Qulan becoming the dominant force. La’Pol did not agree with how the Qulan ruled and he sought to make things like they were before the war. But to no avail, none stood on his side. So La’Pol gave into the Qulan and watched his once great people deteriorate to a mere shadow. All were not at peace though. The Qulan tribes hated the humans for leaving the Alliance after the war was over. Now they continuously plotted for a way to get revenge. Their most recent plot was something that one of their scouts had stumbled upon. A Qulan scout named Refando had learned that the leader of the rebellion against Valen was joining the Empire and turning his troops over. This would not at all. The Wispen Bandits, as they called themselves, were a great thorn in the Empire’s side. The Qulan took quick action to assure that the thorn would remain in place, and they devised a plan to capture Dathor, the leader of the rebellion, in order to persuade him to stay opposed to the Empire.
La’ Pol vowed that he would not let any harm come to the soldier. He would not risk his people going to war against the humans. By rescuing him from harm, La’Pol was making himself an enemy of the Qulan and his own people, the Ezkai. He had now come too far to turn back. His life was now intertwined with Captain Dathor’s.
“And that is my story.

Could you put the flashback in italics, or put it in a different tense, so that it's clearer? Also, you told us pretty much everything about him at the very beginning! It might be more effective to tell us enough to make us curious, then let us know later on, bit by bit. I don't know. try it. I'm not even sure if he really explained what was happening anyway. But then, it's late. It may be my sleep-depraved brain.

Sometimes you get wordy in dialogue, and it results in some grammatical mistakes. Careful!

I love this:

“Guards, get me out of here. I do not know what is going on in there but I have no wish to have my life in danger.” The Chancellor said.

Ah...He's so self-concerned, and you conveyed that in one sentence. And, "...my life in danger," the Chancellor said.

Someone said to have more mystery...Mysterious atmospheres can be good...and not so good. I read one book so obscure it was still cloudy at the end! It was really a "fluff" book, but all the same...*cough* Anyway,we have to know a little. But at the same time, you can't overload us with everything at the beginning (unless you write a prologue, explaining little things). Again, don't rush.

I could make some more suggestions that are more specific, but only if you want it. If not, I'll not waste the time. But if you think it'll help, then I'll go through.

One of those things was the discovery of a large pearl, about a third of a man’s fist, stuck in the large fishing nets, strung across the Agest. The local fishermen used large nets to catch any fish coming down the river, but one day, the fishermen noticed the shiny pearl in the net, along with the regular Bluetides, good size fish that were the main meal fish. But things weren’t right; all of the fish were dead. The nets were in the water the whole time and needed to be pulled out to retrieve what was caught in them, so there was no way that the fish could have suffocated. Confused about what had happened, the fishermen simply shrugged it off as an unexplainable occurrence, returning to their simple lives, as if nothing had happened. Not knowing what to do with the pearl, the fishermen sold it to the smith, Loksley, who had a great interest in rare gems. But no one in Tunvil suspected what the pearl really was, and sadly, the town would pay dearly for their ignorance.

You have a great idea goin' on here! You had me hooked in the first paragraph. I do suggest though that you fix your sentenses so that they flow. They seem kinda choppy, like your telling the audience, not describing it. Try to explain it more as if it is happening at this moment, not as if it is already passed, unless it is imperitive to the story that you are reliving a past event that fuels your story on.
Other than that, it is great! You have some wonderful ideas and really good creativity in names and places. Continue working on it and follow your heart!