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To read the story, go down to the bottom post of mine. Thanks!

I'm leaving in my previous things though.

I'm not expecting the "book" to be particularly long...or even to get finished . But I quite liked this scene...what do you think?

===================================================================
Argent woke. A moment ago he had been in the middle of a huge melee, in his small village, a mace coming crashing down towards his head.
But now he was somewhere completely different. He appeared to be on a small rock, only about three feet across, surrounded by churning sea. Both the sea and the sky were blacker than any black he had seen before, and there was no land in sight.
He felt real terror now, far worse than what he felt before a battle. He started to weep, and cried out, "Why, why am I here, why me?"
"You are dead." A dry, rasping, soulless voice said.
He looked up, and saw what could only be described as a monster. It was eight feet tall, a skeleton, wrapped in black robes and carrying a huge scythe. It was floating just above the sea, about an arm's length from the rock where Argent lay.
"How can I be dead? " he sobbed, "I'm lying here."
"You are between worlds now" responded the creature
"But..."
"SILENCE! I offer you...a choice. You can continue into the next life, and whatever it may bring. Or you can take the path many before you have taken, and join the Undead host of Tzchek Krimall."
"Tzchek...Krimall?"
"You must serve many years of hard labour, while your body decays just as it would if you lay in a grave. You will have no rest, though you are tired. No food, though famished. When the final piece of flesh falls from your bones, you will be inducted into the ranks of the skeleton host."
"The host?"
"They fight an endless battle against other...forces...that exist in their land. As a warrior yourself you will not find existence as a skeleton warrior too...taxing...but you will serve with them for an eternity!"
"I will join the host." he said, haltingly, finding it hard to force the words out of his mouth.
"Very well."
The skeleton raised his scythe, light bursting from it, turning everything blinding white...

===================================================================

Mike

I'll read this tomorrow, I'm in the mood for a bit more editorial work before I criticise my own for its next draft.

Cheers.

Just realised I lost the indentation...no way to fix it...and yes I did try codifying.

Mike

I think its a nice start, i can definately see this as an animation, it could work with even no dialogue, keep the person guessing as to where he actually is.

I think you are trying to hard. You are over doing the explanation of every thing. It would be a better read, if you had used less descriptive words. You went over the top, just that little bit.

Besides from the odd grammatical error, and over doing of strong words, it is quite a good start.

Some people may argue with what I have said, but what I have said, is my opinion.

You've obviously never read any Robert Jordan books

@ED
I quite like it, although I pictured it more like the very start of a story...

I blame Eragon.

Anyway, I've made the first chapter (ish). This isn't final, either the evil dead guy bit OR this chapter, but it gives you an idea. Oh and the plot is, when he becomes in that skeleton host, the descendants of the clan in this chapter find the entrance to where the skeletons et all live.

===================================
Chapter One

As the rising sun lit up the world, the village started to stir. A few people were already out, feeding chickens, milking cows.
The village was small, with around twenty buildings, and as it was far from any other villages, was self-sufficient. All the boys were trained as warriors from the age of thirteen, but their skills were only used for hunting, and against the occasional wolf or bear. It had been peaceful for over fifty years, as the people of other villages nearby left in search of better land. Only one or two of the elders could remember those people, and they rarely talked about it.

Argent walked through the village, to admiring looks from women and envious stares of men. He was the strongest, fittest, most handsome man in the village, and everyone knew it. Including himself. His short temper, and his arrogance, often led to fights, but he hadn't lost one yet.
He often boasted that he feared nothing, and no-one dared dispute him. But there was one thing he feared, feared it so strongly that he had trouble sleeping. He was afraid of death.
Walking into the tavern and requesting a beer, Argent sat down with the other elite.
"There's been too many sightings of wolves these past few days, they're going to need sorting out soon." commented an elder.
"Finally, a chance for some action" was the response of the warriors.
"I'll organise a hunting party to leave at sundown." said Argent, and gulped down his beer.

The hunting party consisted of five of the strongest villagers, and the tracking expert, Torag.
"Time to go then?" he asked.
They walked out of the village and into the woods. Two hours of searching later, and Torag had found evidence of the wolf pack.
"Brilliant, " scoffed Argent, "searching half the night and all we have to show for it is a pile of wolf sh..."
"Shh, I heard something"
They crept through the undergrowth, and found themselves at the edge of a clearing. There was a burnt out fire and the remains of a temporary camp. Sure enough, there were the wolves, eating what looked like cooked meat.
"Who could've made that camp, " wandered Torag, "I don't think any of us have gone this far out of the village recently."
"Oh well, time to do our job." Argent said.
They leapt out of the undergrowth...



Relleka marched forward, his band of raiders behind him. He was a burly man, dressed all in furs except the steel helmet on his head, with two horns adding another foot to his already impressive height. He carried a huge axe in one hand and a wooden shield in the other. His raiding party were just as threatening, armed with an assortment of axes, bows, hammers and maces.
They had been looking for a place to settle for months, and one of their scouts had found the perfect place. A village, about twenty buildings, near a lake for fish and a wood for hunting. There was even a possibility of mining, he had said, as several cliffs and rocks looked hopeful.
It would only be another hour before they reached the village, and he seriously doubted the chances of the people that lived there.


Dispatching one wolf with his sword, and sending another running after a blow to the nose with his shield, Argent was enjoying himself. The other warriors clearly felt the same way, and it wasn't long before the whole pack had fled or been killed.
"Problem solved, shall we get back?"
"Yeah, how long do you reckon it'll take?"
"Not long, not long at all."
After stopping for a quick meal, they made their way back to the village.
"Are those...boot prints?" Torag wondered aloud.
"Yeah, probably ours from earlier."
He wasn't convinced, but they kept going.
They reached the village a few hours after sunrise. The raiders had arrived earlier.
Bodies were lying everywhere, and the few warriors still standing were not going to last long. Argent watched as a small group of villagers ran into the tavern, slamming the door. One of the raiders noticed, but an arrow from Torag slew him before he had chance to shout.
Yelling a war cry, the warriors charged into the village. Decapitating one raider and gutting another, the warriors seriously dented the numbers of raiders.
"Get the leader!" Torag yelled.
"Where?"
It didn't take long before they noticed the horned warrior standing in the centre of the village. But there were more important things to worry about. One of the raiders was trying to get into the tavern.
As one, they ran at the building, killing raiders as they went. Torag fell to an axe, and another warrior was skewered with a spear. The killers were dispatched instantly and violently, and they were at the tavern. Argent beheaded the warrior attacking the door, and turned round. Then they realised they were the only people left except those in the tavern. Forming a half circle around the door, they let the raiders come.
The first fell quickly, as did the second and third. Then the remaining enemies charged together. Argent blocked a hammer blow with his shield, and stabbed underneath it at the attacker. The raider fell with a grunt, and another took his place. Argent slashed with his sword, chopping the axe handle in half and burying the head in the raider's chest. Two warriors fell to a sweep of Relleka's axe, and another to an arrow. Screaming with rage, Argent charged at the raider leader, swinging his sword hard. Relleka's head fell to the ground, and his body crumpled.
Argent had just the time for a cheer of victory, before a raider got behind him, a huge mace in his hands...
====================================================

Mike

P.S. Considering I just started it, I may make a lot of changes.
e.g. I may make it that that scene IS the start of the book.

Right, it's tomorrow, so I'll give a shot at analysing this, I won't spend too much on it though (But lead you to a relevant source as well), because it's a nice day outside.



Not a bad start, you telling me the size of the village, what people do and its traditions. But what does this village look like? Are they nomads? Are they saxons or normans? Are they victorian agricultural, are they modern? The reader doesn't know, you can describe the village and as it's a positive thing, try to make the description of the village rich, so what is looks like, smells like, sounds like - though the narrator is third person, the audience should be able to still experience their senses with this place. With the people, what are they wearing? What do they look like are they English, Chinese, African or what? - though you don't need to state the nationality unless it's important, you can apply a description to them. With the context of the village and its people, why wasn't there peace? Was it resolved and how?



'to admiring looks' seems awkward to me, though it could only just be me and how I read - awkwardness can either be from the choice of words or punctuation. If he is walking to the admiring looks, the comma is unecessary (as the rest of the sentence suggests, he isn't walk to them) I would have gone for something like this:
'Argent walked through the village; admiring looks come from the women and envious stares...'
Though another crit here could be again with description, how does argent walk, how does he look? What does he look like? Does he have any facial expressions? does he have any particular body language?

I would like to go into more depth, though awkward with my monitor problem and with a nice day outside, so I'll leave it there, the story sounds good, though I think areas need work - but what's what drafting, editing and analysing your work is all about.

Also, hopefully to get a better understanding of writing your story, I wrote an article on my website (that will be proof-read, improved and updated with new info) on writing stories - though on the long side, it should provide necessary info on writing (Or at least I hope, one person I know liked it, so it must have useful info ).

[edit]
Forgot the link:
http://cogito.66ghz.com/cogito/?q=node/23

Sounds a lot like 300

What the...
How the heck does it sound like 300...

Please explain!


Mike

And some other little bits. May not be exactly the same, but when I read over it, it sounded like 300 (well, as I skimmed over it. Just my opinion, you don't need to listen to me).

Ok!

And in 300 they were trained from the age of seven...and were actually expected to face combat...


Mike

I think I would buy this book, so make sure to get it published or i'll get mad...

Just kidding, I would buy it though.

hehe, reminds me of when I played Runescape... Relleka, Torag...


I think though it sounds a bit like Eragon, maybe I don't read enought medieval-fantasy books

A lot of those names sound morrowindish

0_o I'm happy now. *starts typing*


Mike

I was playing RS while I was writing it, so I guess the names kinda jumped out at me .




Hey I just had a great idea. The book starts with a small bit of the bit I first showed you, and then there's like a flashback (which is the second bit I showed you) and then it goes onto the bit with the undead guy floating in the air.

Here ya go:

===================================================================
Chapter One


Argent heard water. A moment ago he had been in the middle of a huge melee, in his small village, a mace coming crashing down towards his head. He couldn’t remember a thing…then slowly it started coming back to him.
*******************************************

As the rising sun lit up the world, the village started to stir. A few people were already out, feeding chickens, milking cows.
The village was small, with around twenty buildings, and as it was far from any other villages, was self-sufficient. All the boys were trained as warriors from the age of thirteen, but their skills were only used for hunting, and against the occasional wolf or bear. It had been peaceful for over fifty years, as the people of other villages nearby left in search of better land. Only one or two of the elders could remember those people, and they rarely talked about it.

Argent walked through the village, to admiring looks from women and envious stares of men. He was the strongest, fittest, most handsome man in the village, and everyone knew it. Including himself. His short temper, and his arrogance often led to fights, but he hadn't lost one yet.
He often boasted that he feared nothing, and no-one dared dispute him. But there was one thing he feared, feared it so strongly that he had trouble sleeping. He was afraid of death.

Walking into the tavern and requesting a beer, Argent sat down with the other elite.
"There's been too many sightings of wolves these past few days, they're going to need sorting out soon." commented an elder.
"Finally, a chance for some action" was the response of the warriors.
"I'll organise a hunting party to leave at sundown." said Argent, and gulped down his beer.

The hunting party consisted of five of the strongest villagers, and the tracking expert, Torag.
"Time to go then?" he asked.
They walked out of the village and into the woods. Two hours of searching later, and Torag had found evidence of the wolf pack.
"Brilliant, " scoffed Argent, "searching half the night and all we have to show for it is a pile of wolf sh..."
"Shh, I heard something"
They crept through the undergrowth, and found themselves at the edge of a clearing. There was a burnt out fire and the remains of a temporary camp. Sure enough, there were the wolves, eating what looked like cooked meat.
"Who could've made that camp, " wandered Torag, "I don't think any of us have gone this far out of the village recently."
"Oh well, time to do our job." Argent said.
They leapt out of the undergrowth...



Relleka marched forward, his band of raiders behind him. He was a burly man, dressed all in furs except the steel helmet on his head, with two horns adding another foot to his already impressive height. He carried a huge axe in one hand and a wooden shield in the other. His raiding party were just as threatening, armed with an assortment of axes, bows, hammers and maces.
They had been looking for a place to settle for months, and one of their scouts had found the perfect place. A village, about twenty buildings, near a lake for fish and a wood for hunting. There was even a possibility of mining, he had said, as several cliffs and rocks looked hopeful.
It would not be long before they reached the village, and he seriously doubted the chances of the people who lived there.


Dispatching one wolf with his sword, and sending another running after a blow to the nose with his shield, Argent was enjoying himself. The other warriors clearly felt the same way, and it wasn't long before the whole pack had fled or been killed.
"Problem solved, shall we get back?"
"Yeah, how long do you reckon it'll take?"
"Not long, not long at all."
After stopping for a quick meal, they made their way back to the village.
"Are those...boot prints?" Torag wondered aloud.
"Yeah, probably ours from earlier."
He wasn't convinced, but they kept going.
They reached the village a few hours after sunrise. The raiders had arrived earlier.
Bodies were lying everywhere, and the few warriors still standing were not going to last long. Argent watched as a small group of villagers ran into the tavern, slamming the door. One of the raiders noticed, but an arrow from Torag slew him before he had chance to shout.
Yelling a war cry, the warriors charged into the village. Decapitating one raider and gutting another, the warriors seriously dented the numbers of raiders.
"Get the leader!" Torag yelled.
"Where?"
It didn't take long before they noticed the horned warrior standing in the centre of the village. But there were more important things to worry about. One of the raiders was trying to get into the tavern.
As one, they ran at the building, killing raiders as they went. Torag fell to an axe, and another warrior was skewered with a spear. The killers were dispatched instantly and violently, and they were at the tavern. Argent beheaded the warrior attacking the door, and turned round. Then they realised they were the only people left except those in the tavern. Forming a half circle around the door, they let the raiders come.
The first fell quickly, as did the second and third. Then the remaining enemies charged together. Argent blocked a hammer blow with his shield, and stabbed underneath it at the attacker. The raider fell with a grunt, and another took his place. Argent slashed with his sword, chopping the axe handle in half and burying the head in the raider's chest. Two warriors fell to a sweep of Relleka's axe, and another to an arrow. Screaming with rage, Argent charged at the raider leader, swinging his sword hard. Relleka's head fell to the ground, and his body crumpled.
Argent had just the time for a cheer of victory, before a raider got behind him, a huge mace in his hands...
*******************************

But now he was somewhere completely different. He appeared to be on a small rock, only about three feet across, surrounded by churning sea. Both the sea and the sky were blacker than any black he had seen before, and there was no land in sight.
He felt real terror now, like nothing he'd every experienced before. He screamed, "Why, why am I here, why me, what is this place?"

"You are dead." A dry, rasping, soulless voice said.
He looked up, and saw what could only be described as a monster. It was eight feet tall, a skeleton, wrapped in black robes and carrying a huge scythe. It was floating just above the sea, about an arm's length from the rock where Argent lay.
"How can I be dead? " he sobbed, "I'm lying here."
"You are between worlds now" responded the creature
"But..."
"SILENCE! I offer you...a choice. You can continue into the next life, and whatever it may bring. Or you can take the path many before you have taken, and join the Undead host of Tzchek Krimall."
"Tzchek...Krimall?""You must serve many years of hard labour, until your masters believe you have done enough. You will have no rest, though you are tired. No food, though famished. Then you will go through the ritual that inducts you into the skeleton host!”
"The host?"
"They fight an endless battle against other...forces...that exist in their land. As a warrior yourself you will not find existence as a skeleton warrior too...taxing...but you will serve with them for an eternity!"
"I will join the host." he said, haltingly, finding it hard to force the words out of his mouth.
"Very well."
The skeleton raised his scythe, light bursting from it, turning everything blinding white.

*********

===================================================================

Mike

I'm sure all of those names derive from old english anyway.

Though you have written the second chapter now, I would try to perfect the first chapter and note ideas for progression on the side. Again considering what I said in the above post and reading my article. Of course a good start to the story.

And my girlfriend called it 'vague compared to what you tend to write'. Yeah, she thinks I really overdo it. And yup, I do. To hell with it. It's my story, after all.

That's all chapter one at the moment.

Do you guys reckon I should split it into a load of smaller chapters, or keep the chapters that length?

Cheers,

Mike

Start of chapter two and some bits that don't fit chronologically yet:
===================================================================
Chapter Two

The white light condensed into a semi-transparent egg shape, about Argent’s height. It moved slowly towards him, and he backed away as far as he could.
“Do not try to run.” the skeleton told him.
The egg continued on its path, moving forwards until it encased him. The light was incredibly bright, and he covered his eyes. It span, spinning him with it, faster and faster. Suddenly it stopped. He opened his eyes to a whole new world.

The ground was very dark, solid, mud, in irregular shapes with many thin gaps running through it. A strange, red, thick liquid ran through all of them, and Argent later learned that it was lava.
Looking up, he saw that the ceiling was like a cave, it didn’t look artificial at all. A river of lava ran down one end of the cavern, appearing to be fed by the little streams he had noticed before. It looked like there were three exits, and all were guarded by skeletons, dressed in rusting armour. They seemed just as interested in stopping things coming out as things coming in. Then he saw why. Dozens of people, all carrying heavy loads of earth from one of the entrances, placing it in a pile next to one of the few structures in the cave and returning the way they had come. All of the structures were made of bone, and only one looked remotely like a dwelling.
A voice, similar to the spirit before, said “Come with me.”
He spun round, to see a skeleton slightly smaller than him, which beckoned and walked towards the exit. He followed hesitantly, stepping gingerly over the cracks in the ground. They reached the exit, and Argent saw that there was a chain of workers going from the structure he had seen before, and down into a pit. Workers carried rocks and earth out of the pit, put it by the structure and walked back. They seemed almost mindless, and when one did stop he was lashed mercilessly by the skeletal overseer.
His companion led him into the pit, where he saw dozens of workers mining and digging at the bottom. Everything they took out got thrown into a pile, where another worker picked it up and carried it to the surface.
“Your task is simple. You will mine for half a day, and then you will carry rocks for half a day.”
“But, how will I know when it’s been half a day, there’s no sun down here.”
“We will know. If your masters believe you have been working hard enough, you may get to do easier work, such as cleaning our buildings, or helping to fix warriors‘ equipment. After a century of servitude, you will become a skeleton warrior. The longer you serve as a warrior the less labour you will have to do. More will be explained when it is your time.”
The skeleton handed him a pickaxe and shovel, and told him to get to work. Already regretting his decision, Argent swung his pickaxe at the wall.



Argent had not heard the first spirit wrong. There was no rest, no food, and no drink. He found out that though he was surviving, he still felt the need for food that a normal man would feel. If he worked really hard he sometimes got an easier job, such as cleaning the hosts’ armour, or one of the buildings. Those brief moments of rest never lasted long enough, and soon he was back sweating at the mine. He never found out the reason for it, and he settled with the theory that the rocks were used somewhere else in the massive cave.
He hated transporting the rocks the most. The sharp edges dug into his back and there was never a chance of a quick break. Each load weighed about as much as he did, and any slacking was rewarded with a lash of the whip. At least in the mines he got chance to occasionally talk to his fellow workers, when their overseer had gone to bully someone else. In the brief snatches of conversation he managed, he found out that the other men were from all areas of the world, and that nearly all of them had died in battle, as he had. One of them was a raider that had died in the same battle he had. It was hard to hate any fellow human in this hellish place, and they soon got along better than Argent had with his fellow villagers when he still lived. His name was Eldrid, and, although he did not have the constant fear of death that Argent had had, when he was killed by Torag’s arrow, he knew that he did not want his life to end.
As the months went by, the work did not get easier, but Argent noticed himself become stronger and stronger, almost laughing at the new arrivals, who often had trouble lifting the pickaxe.
All the men he was with were desperate to join the host, especially after they saw a group of skeleton warriors actually eating. They lived much like he used to, and after a few years he started to be able to tell them apart, until soon they were just as distinct as living humans with flesh.

===============================================================================
[href=null] Half a century after Argent’s village fell to the raiders it was becoming very prosperous. None of the living members of its community could remember the battle that captured it for them, but they were certainly reaping the benefits. A road had been built through the forest, allowing trade. The fish from the lake were extremely popular with traders, and the village had gained much knowledge as well as goods. Gunpowder from the east was traded to them, and the power of it amazed even the most hardened warrior. They had soon set up a trading relationship with the people who could make gunpowder, and the guns to use it.
The only resource that had not been used was the ore that the scout had found fifty years ago. The new leader of the village, Dharok, wanted to change that. The traders were starting to want more than just fish, and the villagers had started trading stuff that had been traded to them before. And that wasn’t profitable enough for Dharok, who rather liked money. He called a meeting of all the high-up members of the clan.
“Right, as I’m sure you all know, we are losing profits to these traders.”
There was a general murmur of agreement, and he continued, “As some of you may know, there is some very valuable ore in the caves, rocks and cliffs near our village. I propose that we mine this ore, and make items with it that we can sell to those traders.”
Again, a murmur of agreement.
“We need to learn which places hold which ore, then we need to make paths leading to them from the village. We also need to make a building where we can store it, and another where we can make it into weapons and the like. Karos, you oversee building the warehouse and smithy, choose whoever you like. I’ll organise the mining.”
“Lorak, “ asked Karos, “could you organise some men to go and get us the wood for the new buildings? Verac, you find people who can make the wood into building materials. Roran, you’re the best merchant we have, see if you can get a good price on that extremely large load of nails that trader just brought. I’ll look for people who can actually build.”
Karos eventually had to hire someone from out of the village, the same person who had built the village some extra houses before. The work was begun immediately, as Dharok collected a few men to search for ore.[/href]
===============================================================================




===============================================================================
As Argent was walking back to the mine after carrying another load of rocks to the storehouse, the overseer ordered all the workers to stop.
“Humans have found a way into our kingdom. Some of us wish to join them, others wish to repel them, others wish to follow their example and invade their land. Those traitors wish to join them have already fled, and those who wish to invade are against our leader’s wishes, and therefore also outcasts. We need more warriors, and so we will choose some of you to go through the ritual early, to swell the ranks. If you were not a warrior when you were alive then get back to work. If you wish to side with either of the traitors then get back to work.”
No one dared to start working again, so the overseer walked through them, picking people out seemingly at random. Argent noticed Eldrid being chosen, and allowed himself a brief smile. He was certain he would be chosen, but the overseer passed him over with barely a glance. His smile vanished. As the skeleton reached the end of the line it said, “Those who have been chosen, come with me. Those who have not, go back to work. Your duties will change soon, but they have not yet.”
The newly appointed warriors wore grins as they walked off, Eldrid mouthing an apology to Argent. The others went back to work, heavy hearted.===================================================================


Enjoy,

Mike

P.S. These forums don't recognise the [TAB]key, so there is no indentation

I'll take a look later, though it may end up later than one would help as I'll be going to Cambridge tomorrow and well it's already evening and isn't a good computer time for me.