Young Writers Society

Hi FlamingPhoenix,

Mailice here with a short review!

It's been a while since I reviewed the last chapter and now it's time to catch up on all my stories that I want to read. So let's get started.

We have a very quiet chapter here. It has a nice reading flow and tone, which I like, as the plot is also a bit of an aftermath, which makes it fitting that we spend more time with Richard here. Above all, I like his own interaction with himself, which gives him a lot of depth without you building up much in the sense of "I'm describing what's going on here". You show it much better here, with this method, than just explaining it.

You introduced and worked through the scenes well. I like the structure, how everything slowly moves from one point to the next without much effort. At least it is my impression that this structure has become "easy".

Sometimes you build in sentences that are a bit too long, but I'll have more to say about that later in the other section. I would just advise you to sometimes re-read a section and see if there is a long sentence. Sometimes it also helps to read some passages aloud, then you notice things better.

Some points that caught my eye:

The soft sound of birds singing their tunes met Richard’s ears as he walked towards the river, the soft lapping of the water on the river bank growing louder the closer he got, though he didn’t seem to pay any attention to it as his mind turned over what had just happened a little while ago.

Not sure how long he had been tending to his arm, Richard took one last look, the wound was still weeping blood, but no dirt or anything that could cause an infection remained.

Bracing himself, Richard let out a long sigh before quickly purring the contents in the bottle over his wound, once the liquid hit his flesh he had to clench his jaw shut from the sharp stinging traveling up his arm from the disinfectant.

Virgil here for a review. As a forewarning, I have not read the other chapters meaning that my review might be missing some context.

The biggest constructive criticism that I have to first and foremost offer about this chapter is on purpose as well as brevity. What exactly is the purpose of this chapter? In a novel, there are chapters that are allowed to be a slower burn if that is necessary for the plot. Maybe the novel includes intricate details that are important later on or maybe the conflict in the chapter is more internal than external.

Why does this chapter feel as if the main character is living his, for the most part, normal life? Imagine you are in my shoes. Imagine you are reading a novel, maybe the first couple of chapters are pretty enticing--that's great. Then you stumble upon the third chapter that consists of one-third internal conflict and monologue, one third hunting of a deer and one third the end of a normal day for a person living in this setting. What here is truly necessary towards the plot? Why is, Richard, for a third of the chapter, expressing his emotions through a monologue rather than through his actions? Is the deer that he shoots necessary to the plot? I'm failing to understand what this chapter serves the overarching plot.

If this is a first draft, then look to this chapter if you end up finishing this novel and revising and cutting out unnecessary details, because there are a couple parts of this chapter that can be said better, with more weight, and in fewer words. Do you ever read an essay and you have the feeling that a lot of what is added in is added in to reach a certain word count or page number? Or simply for the sake of it? More is not always better.

Here's something else--don't be afraid to have a short chapter. Chapters do not need to be a uniform length. Just because one chapter is 3k words doesn't mean another chapter cannot be half that length, if 1.5k words is all that is necessary.

There are also grammar errors, but instead of me picking through each one I would suggest something along the lines of Grammarly--not the fact that Grammarly is always right, because more often than not I find myself correcting Grammarly. Anyway.

I have a way to shorten this chapter and fulfill all the seeming main functions or goals that this chapter is trying to achieve. Instead of a third of the chapter being inner monologue, combine the different parts of this chapter in order to show your character's emotions. You can have Richard feeling these emotions the same time he is about to shoot the deer. What if Richard struggles to kill the deer because of his guilt related to almost killing a man with his family? What if in a moment of weakness, he struggles to do so? This ties an action to Richard's thoughts. You already start to do this, but you can get rid of most of his inner monologue completely and have Richard's actions show that he is hesitant to kill, and this might become a problem later on if he does not develop as a character.

Hope this review helps. Let me know if you have any questions. Remember to focus on your main point, and to keep pushing the plot forward in a meaningful way. Have a great day.

Okay, so sorry, this is coming a little later than expected, but here I am! My reviewing style is still evolving, so we'll see how this goes:
Overall, liked this chapter, I liked richard more in this chapter than any of the previous ones. You've really got that good balance of manly and sensitive, competent and human. (or elf should I say?) It was a bit wordy and clunky in some places, but a little editing could fix that.
Since the chapters come out so far apart from each other it would be nice to get a little summary of what has happened so far at the beginning of each chapter because tbh I don't have a great memory. But it's no biggie, but I thought I'd mention it!
Into specific!

The soft sound of birds singing their tunes met Richard’s ears as he walked towards the river, the soft lapping of the water on the river bank growing louder the closer he got, though he didn’t seem to pay any attention to it as his mind turned over what had just happened a little while ago.

‘How could I have been so stupid? Not only did I almost get us killed, but for all we know we could have killed a man with a family, with young kids.’ Richard ran a hand over his face, pulling his mask down to fall around his neck.

“Does this make me any better than Damien?” He asked himself, the river now in sight, the clear water glowing in the early morning light. “Maybe Ethan’s right, it’s probably best I stop looking for vengeance and just take a step back, it would be for the best.”

Shaking his head Richard sat down on one of the rocks next to the bank looking out over the cool water. ‘Training would be the best thing to do round about now. I should get better before doing anything else.’ He thought while removing his cloak and mask, then his tops, wincing when the fabric stuck to the dried blood. ‘Instead of facing the guard I ran, my confidence from before with Ethan just disappearing, that won’t get me anywhere if I want to face more than the guards.’

Looking over at his arm, Richard couldn’t help but grimace at the sight, the wound pink and raw still weeping small amounts of blood that slowly trickled down his arm only to fall to the ground at his fingertips.

Bracing himself, Richard let out a long sigh before quickly purring the contents in the bottle over his wound, once the liquid hit his flesh he had to clench his jaw shut from the sharp stinging traveling up his arm from the disinfectant. Ears angled back Richard’s face screwed up from the pain that refused to go away.

Putting the bottle down, Richard began to wrap the wound, it may need stitches later, but that would have to wait, he had other things he needed to take care of as of right now.

Putting his top back on Richard sighed at the sight of his torn sleeve, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but mixed with the crusted blood it wasn’t pleasant.

“At least I removed most of the smell; don’t want to be attracting unwanted attention,” Richard mumbled putting on the rest of his equipment, before looking around.

Everything other than the constantly moving water looked still, not a movement to be seen. Right now it didn’t worry him too much being it’s still rather early, but he’d have to listen out for a change in the bird’s behavior above towards midday.

Picking up his sword and pouches Richard strapped the equipment back into place before grabbing his cloak and moving away from the stream back into the bushes. He didn’t travel far, wanting to follow the river downstream but didn’t want to disturb any wildlife that would come to drink.

Richard traveled for a while when he passed a fallen tree, vines and fresh moss growing over its exterior as the leaves it once sprouted had long ago fallen and withered away. Kneeling beside it Richard moved some of the undergrowth aside to reveal the hollow underneath. Reaching in, Richard pulled out a quiver of arrows and the bow he had put there the last time he had gone out hunting.

Slinging the bow and quiver over his shoulder Richard continued to walk, the wound in his arm now a dull ache.

Looking above him, Richard watched as birds flew from one tree to another, snatching bugs from midair as they did. Their soft songs travel through the somber woods.

Letting out a long sigh, Richard only wished most things would be as peaceful as this. After Damien came into power everything went into chaos, not a moment of peace or even time to think. With Damien constantly recruiting young men to unwillingly join his army there was always tension in the air, always the question of who would be next. He has been fortunate enough not to be chosen so far, but he knew his luck would run out soon enough, and when the time came he had to be ready.

Coming to a clearing Richard looked around, his eyes scanning the long grass before continuing forward. The city may be a dangerous place, but the woods were just as much so. With Vermirru constantly on your trail waiting for an opening to pounce, letting your guard down was a big mistake. Even though they typically come out between dusk and dawn there may always be those few that stick around for an extra meal.

Looking around for the trap he had set the day before Richard’s eyes landed on a small brown figure submerged in the grass, its small horns only just visible through the long strands of green.

Not removing his gaze from the small buck, Richard removed the bow from his shoulder, knocking it up with one of the many arrows in his quiver. He slowly began to creep forward, not wanting to startle the small animal.

As he crept closer Richard made sure to stay as low to the ground as he could. He had left his cloak at the edge of the clearing before making his way over as to stir as little of the long grass as possible. He took his time advancing, stopping each time the buck would turn his head in his direction, the dear's ears were up and on alert swiveling from left to right.

Big brown eyes moving away from where he was crouched, Richard with his bow still in hand crawled along the ground, he was hoping the buck was trapped in the snare he had set up the day before, but he still took his time approaching not wanting to scare off the dear encase it wasn’t in the trap.

Once he was within two to three meters of the young dear, Richard picked himself up from the ground. Kneeling he knocked his bow up with the same arrow as before, pulling the string past his jawline, he took aim, he remained in that position for a few seconds before he let go of the bowstring, the arrow flying through the air with a sharp wiz, before connecting with its target soon followed by the sounds of a thud and the grass rustling.

Slinging the bow over his shoulder Richard made his way over to the fallen buck, kneeling next to it once reaching its side. Running his hand over the animal's soft white-spotted pelt Richard looked towards where the arrow had made impact, slow trickles of fresh blood feel from the dear’s head as it stained the grass below a dark crimson.

“Sorry little guy...” Richard mumbled, removing the arrow, placing it back in the quiver. He didn’t know why he said sorry to an animal that was already dead, or why he said sorry in the first place it was quick and painless for the most part, so he shouldn’t feel too bad about it...right?

Standing, Richard walked over to the edge of the clearing, collecting his cloak from where he had left it, clipping it back around his neck as he made his way back to the dear. If he couldn’t kill a small animal without feeling bad, how was he going to eradicate Damien and his minions? Both Damien and his second in command Aiden would be a challenge, their skills nothing to be taken lightly, there was a reason they took the kingdom in a matter of a few weeks, so feeling guilty about taking another life would surely get him killed.

With a loud grunt, Richard gripped the buck’s front and back hooves hoisting it onto his back so it could rest on his shoulders, his arm crying out in sharp protest as the wound began to leak through the bandages again.

With a heavy sigh, Richard looked down at the puddle of blood that still remained on the ground, the thick substance slowly seeping through the long green tendrils that made up the clearing. ‘The Vermirru won’t be pleased there isn’t a large meal to go along with that blood.’ Richard thought as he began making his way through the forest, knowing full well that the smell of freshly spilled blood will have those scaly creatures in a wild frenzy the entire night.

It felt like he had been walking for hours when Richard’s eyes finally landed on the small hut he and Ryan called their home. It wasn’t much, one would wonder if you should even call it home with moss and long vines slowly growing up the wooden panels that look far less vibrant than what they used to be, now a dark gray and falling apart.
It wasn’t all bad though, with this part of the forest being as dense as it was, it was impossible to even spot the small clearing they lived in unless you knew where it was.

Stopping just before he made it up the verandas creaky steps, Richard swung the small animal off of his shoulders, placing it down on the ground, the grass underneath it fanning out and around its small body.

Happy to have the extra weight off of his aching shoulders Richard breathed out a sigh of relief swinging his arms around in a circular motion, hoping to get the blood flow back into them, his right arm numb already he didn’t seem to take note of the extra pain.

“Good to see your back in one peace...I thought a Vermirru may have dragged you off somewhere...”

Turning Richard’s gaze landed on Ryan who came out from the woods behind the house, shovel in hand.

“Ha ha, very funny...” Richard mocked, his ears having a mind of their own as they curved backward in displacer.

Seeming to ignore him, Ryan’s gaze moved over to the small buck, “Ah good, a dissent kill today. We’ll be able to sell most of that at the market, maybe we’ll finally get to have some bread on the table.” Turning back to face, Richard, Ryan jabbed his thumb behind him. “Well you know what to do, just try to have it done before nightfall.”

“Where are you going?” Richard called watching Ryan walk away back towards the forest after putting the shovel down.

“I have to go back into town...try not to get yourself killed while I’m gone will you,” Ryan called over his shoulder with a wave of his hand as his tall frame melted into the shadows.

Scowling at the spot he had last seen the older elf, Richard snorted as he kicked up a small portion of the ground with the front of his shoe. “Great,” He grumbled as he turned around and picked up the small dear again carrying it to the back of the hut.

This routine was normal, Ryan would go to the village come midday and work there as a blacksmith until about sundown, a job he had taken up after the war. And like always he would be left behind to maintain whatever work needed to be taken care of here. He couldn’t complain though, it was better than hanging around in the village where King Damien could watch your every move, it just makes it easier for him to chose you whenever that time for more to join his army came, and it wasn’t that far off either. Now he had come of age where he was allowed to join, even more of a reason for him to stay clear.

Using all the strength he had left, Richard tide the back hooves of the buck to a rope that hung from a tall pole that had been lodged deep into the ground, he then pulled on the rope to lift the animal from the ground to be left dangling a good few feet in the air.

“There, that should do it,” Richard said as he turned to the back wall of the house grabbing one of the many knives that hung there, twisting it around in his hand he eyed the dear before gripping one of the back legs, beginning to gently cut away the fur.

I'll be reviewing this before the end of today probably