RuneScape Forum Archive | ~ From the Misty Depths ~

Chuk

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Haha. That Protection one was more for my own amusement than anything else. It was enjoyable to include the judges in it. That's essentially all I was after, so I agree with you wholeheartedly on that one.
As for Betrayal of the Night...I was going for unique, certainly, but there was more to it. Beyond the story itself. I think at one point, I was planning it as part of a bigger story, just one sad event that ends up acting like a catalyst or something.
And yeah, it was helpful to hear some real thoughts on 'em. Thanks a bunch.
Now you can get caught up on Echoes.

EDIT: Oh, you may have a point with the pairing of try and fail, but I like the stronger verb of struggle better. I'd rather replace fail than struggle. Try and fail are both bland verbs that don't carry as much weight. So think of a stronger synonym for fail that would match struggle.

07-Aug-2009 07:24:27 - Last edited on 07-Aug-2009 07:26:18 by Chuk

Chuk

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- A Sunrise -
A pale glow expanding across the dark silhouettes of a mountainous horizon heralded the coming of dawn. The sky beyond faded away to light like a curtain drawn from a window. Hues of purple, a premonition of what would follow, eased back the stars of night. Upon their heels followed reds and yellows, oranges and pinks, consistently growing stronger until they seemed overcome by the cobalt that drove them on.

Between two shadowed peaks, the heavens grew brighter than the surrounding, as if some ancient fire had been kindled between their earthly powers to outdo the overwhelming display of color. Indeed it had, for behind their jagged veil came the sun like a flood of pooling fire, older than the earth but burning like a candle-flame, only a thousand, a million times greater. The two ribbed cones lifted it up, rested the spherical chariot upon their shoulders for another moment before heaving its white downy horses into motion -- pulling a gift for all the world.

Even as it clawed for altitude, beginning a long climb for the zenith, the forest around me erupted into life. Birds, cowed to silence by the pervasive gloom of night broke into song, celebrating a new day. A brook, muffled by oppressive shadow babbled to life only steps away from the ridge where I stood. Within my own being, it was like a rebirth; I once more became aware of my surroundings, feeling my humanity, feeling vibrant joy find life anew in the fresh light, an elation that even the human heart had relinquished in the shroud of darkness.

10-Aug-2009 07:45:06

Chuk

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Sight, smell, and touch, taste and hearing: all sharpened in distinction. Besides the stream and birds, the whistling wind carried its own tune of sorrow and delight, telling the stories of its travels to any who had ear to listen. It echoed and jumped, bounded high then dropped low. It told of distant love and joy, of frolicking children with their mothers, a thousand leagues distant who waited for fathers to return home. It whispered of the wolf it had passed, gaunt and starving, that had found a lamed deer, and leapt upon the creature to retrieve life and vigor.

Then it moved on, in its lowest timbre relating the battle of the night before, of the men and boys who had passed on to the heights of Valhalla, never to see an earthly home again. It knew, whispered that though Odin would be pleased in our victory, his glory would not be enough, now or ever, to overcome the hole that those soldiers left at home. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, salty warmth reminding me that even I, a conquering general was human; my heart nearly stopped. As though it read my mood, the breeze jumped again, and I heard the gasp as my men behind felt its southerly warmth pierce their saddened hearts.

It whistled on, driving toward the sun, screaming and chanting of new found hope: a new day. It leapt across the stream, rustled through the leaves, a reminder that to feel joy and peace, one must also feel their foils: anger and sadness. It lifted my heart, and I turned back towards the sun, revealing light banishing the last of my dark thoughts to the night where they belonged. My senses exploded within, ferrying data into my mind at an incomprehensible rate.

10-Aug-2009 07:45:53

Chuk

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Behind me, snorting horses, men shifting in their armor; to my right, a fish leaping high and splashing back into some clear pool; ahead, wind running away in delight; to my left, whistles of the birds, hundreds of birds, each singing their own song -- a different song -- to celebrate the joy of new life. I breathed deep, air drowning in the scent of a pre-dawn rain, clean and damp. Though midsummer, the breath carried a cool freshness which I could relate only to the first hint of spring, late in February, that broke through the chill and declared that warmer days were on their way. I nearly stuck out my tongue, imagining I might taste the dew like some intoxicating candy that would fill the void of life left vacant in my heart by soldiers’ deaths.

I felt the welcoming give of damp grass beneath my feet reminding me of the journey ahead. Again, behind me, men shifted uncomfortably, wondering why we delayed. A long march and yet another battle lay before us, somewhere beyond the mountains now blanketed in the sun’s golden light. I looked around one final time to absorb the beauty of nature that I might carry the strength it loaned me through one more day. I bent to the ground, picking a single blade of grass and twisting it around my finger. I examined its deep green tone, disbelieving of its perfection. Finally, I released it to the soft, now noiseless, breeze that still caressed my skin. The tendril drifted away, falling to the bubbling waters of the stream to be carried on its final journey.

10-Aug-2009 07:46:18

Chuk

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From atop my knoll, I could see for miles, see the forests where we had fought only hours previously, see the fields we had yet to cross. I could see a distant town, white stone edifices reflecting the golden rays of the sun, shining villages I knew we might yet pillage and burn and destroy. Yet I knew I could go on. I replaced my burnished steel helmet, feeling its protection envelope my head, its comforting, familiar strength returning me to my duty as general. I turned to the army behind me, and motioned them forward, brimming with conviction. For at the end, another sunrise, a new birth would always wait.

10-Aug-2009 07:46:53

Chuk

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~: To Hell and Back :~

-- Prologue --

Flames, flickering. Figures, fighting -- falling. Flames.

They shimmer in the night air in blazing hues of orange, red, yellow, and even white they burn so hot. All else dim, hardly visible, behind their light. But I can just make out the smoky silhouettes of crumbled walls and fallen roofs, charred wood and blackened stone. The remains of Wulfras. My city.

My home.

The bast(c)ards descended upon us in the dark hour before dawn, late in the Guard’s night shift. Wearied and inattentive, we failed in our duty to watch. Thousands of them, from nowhere. Screams and death everywhere. Blood, tears

Swords clashing, men running. Men dying.

Me running, dodging, slicing.

Smoke and fire. Blindness. Pain. Tumbling

Feet, legs. Up. Running. Jumping, falling.

Fleeing.

And now, I -- alone -- survive to watch the city burn.

I can hear their cheers from here. In what remains of the castle, they celebrate. Our mead, our wine. Our venison, our pheasant. Our fruits, our vegetables. Our wives. Those they didn't kill they r(c)ape. Screams, terror beneath the cheers.

Bast(c)ards, I called them. Yet I cannot even protect that which I hold dear. Instead, I ran, cowering behind a rock, watching. But though I am a coward, I have not given up.

Let it be known that I, Healdef, swear revenge.

10-Aug-2009 08:08:35 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 10:36:49 by Chuk

Nov

2023

Orbestro

Posts: 14,122 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Okay, I’m gonna give my new Short Story template a test-run on the shorts of yours which I skipped/weren’t there the first time around. And by 'my' Short Story template, I mean the one used in every major contest for, like, five years...

~

rbie

Lorehound

through and through.

10-Aug-2009 22:57:03

Nov

2023

Orbestro

Posts: 14,122 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

A Tale of Trolls:
Plot: 17/20
Imagery: 19/20
Flow: 18/20
Impact: 19/20
Characters: 17/20
90/100
One thing I noted about this short was Leden’* what I fee l were exaggerated emotions in the first paragraph. They greatly increase the impact of the abrupt turn of events, however, so I can’t suggest you change it.
Another thing was the exceeding coincidence of the Trolls appearing as the family jokes about them. Obviously, you wouldn’t have a story without that, but such outrageous coincidence detracts from the feeling of reality, for me.
And, eh, the symmetry of your score is completely unintentional O_o

.

My Purpose:
Plot: 17/20
Imagery: 17/20
Flow: 18/20
Impact: 18/20
Characters: 19/20
89/100
“I learned to wield a sword then, training at his side through that as well as studies.”
‘through that as well as studies’ is rather awkwardly phrased. Not to say that it** grammatically incorrect, not at all, but I had to read it several times before I figured out what you were actually saying. I’m also kind of thick sometimes, so you’re welcome to right this off as just being an Orbie thing

Other than that, a nice piece, although not particularly impressive.

Santa Sperin:
Plot: 19/20
Imagery: 18/20
Flow: 18/20
Impact: 19/20
Characters: 19/20
Truly excellent! I have nothing else to say.
93/100
A Sunrise:
Plot: 19/20
Imagery: 20/20
Flow: 18/20
Impact: 18/20
Characters: 19/20
94/100
Another stunning piece, Chuk. Everything flowed together beautifully. A gorgeous description seamlessly turned into a plot and gave a character, and it was over far too soon.
And one more...

Lorehound

through and through.

10-Aug-2009 23:34:23 - Last edited on 10-Aug-2009 23:34:41 by Orbestro

Nov

2023

Orbestro

Posts: 14,122 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

To Hell and Back:
Plot: 18/20
Imagery: 19/20
Flow: 18/20
Impact: 16/20
Characters: 18/20
89/100
Reminded me of Troy quite a lot. Now, maybe I’m heartless, but a guilty survivor swearing revenge just doesn’t do it for me. It’s cliché. With your writing, cliché is a whole lot more tolerable, but it is what it is.
- - - - -
Woo, now I'm done fo' realz. Keep it up, Chuk!
~ O_o

rbie

Lorehound

through and through.

10-Aug-2009 23:35:17 - Last edited on 10-Aug-2009 23:42:31 by Orbestro

Chuk

Posts: 14,177 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Yeah, it is definitely a cliche intro. I think I'd be turning it less cliche should I ever finish it.
Anything particular about the writing style on that last one?
Did I pull off the actual writing okay without all my customary complex sentences and description?

10-Aug-2009 23:37:28 - Last edited on 10-Aug-2009 23:38:18 by Chuk

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