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I plan to write a couple of sequels to this, that lead up to the events that take place in this story. But here is the first one (or the last one):

Andaroth entered the room.

The little wood elf stood but five feet high from head to toe; the dimly lit room made his appearance look almost comical. This small creature had no place here.

These were the thoughts of the men in the room; sneers crept across their faces and several whispered to the one next sitting next to them:

“What’s this pitiful midget in ‘ere for… filthy wood elves…thieving swine…”

The muttering continued under their breath, several slid their hands around their weapon grips.

Andaroth stood their, his resolve all the stronger, his bitter resentment for these foul imperials starting to swell inside him; soon it would blossom into pure rage.

Then the most corpulent of the men rose to his feet, and attempted to stare down the slight figure of Andaroth, his stare foreboding, and coupled with his sneer and a daemonic glint of hatred in his eyes he spoke for everyman in the room: you are not welcome here.

Andaroth knew all too well what this would come to, but he was so blinded by his rage that he could not care whether he lived through it or not; his only care now was that if he were destined to die here, he would take a few of these wretches with him.

He shed his cloak like a second skin, sweeping it off in one smooth movement, brought his arm around his body and with the flick of his wrist he embedded a throwing star into the man’s podgy throat, severing an artery, causing blood to start gushing out in front of the mans eyes, following the rhythm of the man’s now frantic heartbeat as he realised he was going to die.

Andaroth wasted no time, in the next ten seconds he had slain two others in the same fashion, and drawn his gleaming glass shortsword.

The rest of the room were now on their feet, weapons drawn, ready to cut the little wood elf to pieces. They surrounded him, seven of them, each waiting for the other to make a move.

Andaroth held his stance, suppressed his rage, waiting for the foolish imperials to make the first move. A good warrior always learns from his mistakes, and acts on the mistakes of others.

A lanky imperial behind him made the first mistake, and the last. Andaroth spun around and dodged the man’s blade, driving his own up into the man’s armpit, twisted and withdrew. He knew now he must sustain a smooth, fluid dance of offensive moves if he were to take as many with him as possible.

But Andaroth could no longer sustain his anger, and unleashed his anger. He was a blur as he performed his blood dance; thrusting, slashing and parrying, dodging, swerving, never faltering. They did not last long. Covered in blood, the stout elf breathed heavily, his work done.

His family was avenged.
Post Wed Aug 31, 2005 1:37 pm             Reply with quote                   up  
Haj

13 Dec 2004



[Overall it was pretty good, nice visceral story of vengeance. Avoid using colons and semi-colons, you do not need them and in prose fiction they are rarely useful anyway.]

Andaroth entered the room.

The little wood elf stood but five feet high from head to toe [I cringed when I read this, "stood but five feet" ... sounds a bit pretentious. Just write the same way as you would speak it. Try this "The little wood elf stood barely five feet tall." as "from head to toe" is redundant.] The dimly lit [pub/bar/inn] made his appearance look almost comical [why would lighting conditions make him look comical? Try "In the darkness it was funny to see him standing there."]. This small creature had no place [there].

These were the thoughts of the men in the room[,] sneers crept across their faces and several whispered to the one next sitting next to them “What’s this pitiful midget in ‘ere for… [filthy thieving swine]…”

[what? the several men all said exactly the same thing?]

The muttering continued under their breath, several slid their hands around their weapon grips. [this is quite unbelievable, why on Tamriel would they be reaching for their weapons at this point?]

Andaroth stood [there], his resolve all the stronger, his bitter resentment [against] these foul imperials starting to swell inside him[,] soon it would blossom into pure rage.

Then the most corpulent of [them] rose to his feet, and [began] to stare down the slight figure of Andaroth[.] [His glare was] foreboding and, [coupling] a sneer and [the] glint of hatred in his eyes[,] spoke for [every man] in the room [-] you[, elf,] are not welcome here.

Andaroth knew all too well what this [could] come to, but he was so blinded by rage that he [did] not care whether he [survived] it or not, his only [intent] was that if he were destined to die here, he would take a few of these wretches with him.

He shed his cloak, sweeping it off in one smooth movement, and with the flick of his wrist he embedded a throwing star into the man’s [swelling] throat. [Blood gushed outwards in a pulsing flood], matching the rhythm of the man’s heartbeat, rising] as he realised he was [about] to die.

Andaroth wasted no time, [within] the next [few] seconds he [slew] two others in the same fashion, and [then drew a] gleaming glass shortsword.

The rest of the room were now on their feet, weapons drawn, ready to cut the little wood elf [down]. [Seven] surrounded him and paused, each waiting for [another] to [start in].

Andaroth held his stance, suppressed his rage, [and waited] for the fool imperials to make the first move. [While] a good warrior always learns from his mistakes, [he should be also prepared to act] upon the mistakes of others.

A lanky imperial behind him made the first [mis-step], [it was his] last. Andaroth spun and dodged [under] the man’s [sweeping] blade, [and drove] his own up into the man’s armpit, twisted and withdrew. He knew now he must sustain a smooth, fluid dance of [attack] if he were to take as many down as possible.

[Andaroth unchecked his fury, and in unleashing it he became a savage blur of thrusting, slashing, dodging, and never faltering.] They did not last long. Covered in [the blood of his foes], the stout elf breathed heavily, his work done.

His family was avenged.

---

One last thing ... he's a stout elf? Not a bitter elf? I always prefered lager myself*.

Haj

(*this is a lie, but the joke demanded it)
Post Thu Sep 01, 2005 11:24 am Send private message             Reply with quote                   up  
Vernon
Developer Emeritus
29 Sep 2004

Location: Sydney, Australia

Quote:
One last thing ... he's a stout elf? Not a bitter elf? I always prefered lager myself*.



_________________
welp
Post Thu Sep 01, 2005 11:35 am Send private message             Reply with quote                   up  
Haj

13 Dec 2004



If I get the go ahead from someone I think I can panel-beat this one into shape myself now that the original author has (temporarily?) retreated into the fantasy often referred to as the real world.

Haj
Post Thu Sep 01, 2005 10:59 pm Send private message             Reply with quote                   up  
Earl
Developer Emeritus
21 Aug 2003

Location: Dune

I am not a fan of stories that go

"Bad ass enters the room. Several people attack in a manner wildly without context, and the bad ass slaughters them all with super expensive weapons and/or spells. OMFG everyone's dead teh end."

But if you can do something cool with it, be my guest. You know, if it's within my authority to say so. Which I'm going to assume it is.

And that stout elf line is killer.

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I have kleptomania, but when it gets really bad, I take something for it.
Post Fri Sep 02, 2005 4:38 am Send private message             Reply with quote                   up  
Haj

13 Dec 2004



Ok, so this is a bit of a challenge ... let's see how it goes ... may the original author forgive me ...

Rewrite attempt may now be found in it's own thread ... click HERE to read/inspect/abuse it.

Haj


Last edited by Haj on Sat Sep 10, 2005 8:14 am; edited 3 times in total
Post Fri Sep 02, 2005 10:03 am Send private message             Reply with quote                   up  
Anonymous
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Hmmm.... writing really isn't my thing but I like it;)
Post Fri Sep 02, 2005 10:07 am             Reply with quote                   up  
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