Candlekeep Forum
Candlekeep Forum
Home | Profile | Register | Active Topics | Active Polls | Members | Private Messages | Search | FAQ
Username:
Password:
Save Password
Forgot your Password?

 All Forums
 Forgotten Realms Journals
 Adventuring
 FR Prelude 1: New Beginnings

Note: You must be registered in order to post a reply.
To register, click here. Registration is FREE!

Screensize:
UserName:
Password:
Format Mode:
Format: BoldItalicizedUnderlineStrikethrough Align LeftCenteredAlign Right Horizontal Rule Insert HyperlinkInsert Email Insert CodeInsert QuoteInsert List
   
Message:

* HTML is OFF
* Forum Code is ON
Smilies
Smile [:)] Big Smile [:D] Cool [8D] Blush [:I]
Tongue [:P] Evil [):] Wink [;)] Clown [:o)]
Black Eye [B)] Eight Ball [8] Frown [:(] Shy [8)]
Shocked [:0] Angry [:(!] Dead [xx(] Sleepy [|)]
Kisses [:X] Approve [^] Disapprove [V] Question [?]
Rolling Eyes [8|] Confused [?!:] Help [?:] King [3|:]
Laughing [:OD] What [W] Oooohh [:H] Down [:E]

  Check here to include your profile signature.
Check here to subscribe to this topic.
    

T O P I C    R E V I E W
Sir Elton Posted - 02 Sep 2004 : 03:35:27
PROLOGUE

“All stories have a beginning, all myths have a starting. And it was nothing, but that is how it always begins. Very small . . .”
— Alaundo the Sage
Candlekeep, 1353 D.R.

After a furious winter, spring had come to Deadsnows in the Year of the Arch. It was a furious winter, Auril had made sure her hand was felt. But the snows began to melt from the Nether Mountains, the ice had melted and the streams began to flow. Like all days of Spring, it was a new beginning. But just not for the town of Deadsnows and the people in it, but for the animals as well. Birthing had come to the animals, as matings during the rutting season produced new baby animals.
But in the household of Darin the Potter, a new life was waiting to begin. Darin’s wife, naked, was surrounded by a midwife and Glorawen, the leader of the Elves in Deadsnows. Glorawen was as stately as any elf noble woman of the gold elves; however her skin color, which of a light pink, said that she was a moon elf. Despite what ethnic group of elves that gave her birth, all the elves had looked to her wisdom and guidance. Her appearance during this birthing meant something else. This was an auspicious birth, Glorawen noted. For good or ill, she had to be present.
Darin’s wife’s naked body convulsed in labor pains. Her stomach bulged upward to show that she was nine months pregnant. The young woman cried out between pushes to expel a new human life from her body. Glorawen examined the birthing, and noticed a little skin pushing out from between the woman’s vulva.
“It is crowning,” Glorawen said. “A little more of a push, and new life will begin, Martha.”
Martha, Darin the Potter’s wife, only nodded. And she gave one more push, pushing with all of her might. The baby’s head poked all the way through, an expressionless face. Glorawen grabbed the baby by the back and the chest and pulled it out. The umbilical cord came away from the body as well. Blood and water also flowed out of Martha, and the baby was covered in it. Within a second of being born, the baby started to cry as it’s lungs wanted a breath of fresh air. Glorawen looked, and there were all the signs of a male babe.
Then the midwife took a dagger and cut the umbilical cord. Somewhat exhausted, Martha motioned Glorawen towards her. “You have always been a fine friend to me, Glorawen,” Martha said. “For that I thank you.”
“I had insight that I should be here, Martha,” said Glorawen with all the kindness of an elf woman with a heart of gold. “Hope remains in your manchild.”
“Glorawen, his name is . . . Elton . . . which means of the old town or estate . . .” she exhaustily said. “Give this to him when the time comes . . .”
She grasped Glorawen’s hand and opened her palm. A ring, a signet ring, fell from her fingers into Glorawen’s hand. Then Martha started to breath slowly, and then she gasped, and finally her body went limp. Her eyes stared up into the nothingness.
“Peace be with you, Martha,” Glorawen said, as she closed her eyes. “Go, and may whatever gods of Death you worship receive you with mercy and justice.”
The babe was washed of the water and the blood he was borne of. And Glorawen took the child. And looked at the ring. It was a signet ring, made of gold and was minted in the shape of a mighty bird, it’s wings encircling a red sapphire with a fiery star in the middle of the gem. Glorawen wondered what this could mean, but this meant also breaking to Darin that his wife had died in Childbirth.
12   L A T E S T    R E P L I E S    (Newest First)
Winterfox Posted - 27 Sep 2004 : 07:55:36
quote:
Originally posted by Kajehase



Nah, don't think that'd help.


No? Oh, well, I tried. What would do it, then? Typing l1|<3 4|-|15, maybe? *snarky*

quote:
...But if you're ever in the mood for some heterosexual orgies...


I'll resist the urge to reply. *whistles innocently* (And of course I laughed. Me and my inner child.)
Kajehase Posted - 25 Sep 2004 : 21:48:25
quote:
Originally posted by Winterfox


*blinks* It was a polite request, and since the poster left me a line to "tear this apart", I'd prefer not to inflict blocks of unformatted text upon my poor, poor eyes. What, should I pepper my posts with invitations to wild lesbian orgies so I won't appear "uptight"? []



Nah, don't think that'd help.
...But if you're ever in the mood for some heterosexual orgies...


And just to make sure everyone gets it: That was a JOKE (albeit a horribly bad one I'll be the first one to admit), not a sexual invitation.
Seluus Posted - 08 Sep 2004 : 15:14:52
Be careful what you ask for... you just might get it...hehe.

Thanks Winter. :-D
Seluus Posted - 08 Sep 2004 : 04:24:51
Well, I would love to see your reviews of my work Winter. I have formatted the paragraphs, but I hope there are more positives than that in my work.

The works I speak of are the Seluus stories. Please let me know what you think.

Seluus.
Winterfox Posted - 08 Sep 2004 : 03:46:04
quote:
Originally posted by Lord Rad

quote:
Originally posted by Winterfox

Uh, paragraphs please? I know it's annoying that, when you copy and paste from a word processor, the forum removes all formatting, but it's not that difficult to press "preview", now, is it?



Take it easy, Winterfox. You're always so uptight, you'll blow a bloodvessel one of these days



*blinks* It was a polite request, and since the poster left me a line to "tear this apart", I'd prefer not to inflict blocks of unformatted text upon my poor, poor eyes. What, should I pepper my posts with invitations to wild lesbian orgies so I won't appear "uptight"?
Lord Rad Posted - 07 Sep 2004 : 14:33:10
quote:
Originally posted by Winterfox

Uh, paragraphs please? I know it's annoying that, when you copy and paste from a word processor, the forum removes all formatting, but it's not that difficult to press "preview", now, is it?



Take it easy, Winterfox. You're always so uptight, you'll blow a bloodvessel one of these days
Winterfox Posted - 07 Sep 2004 : 11:51:47
Uh, paragraphs please? I know it's annoying that, when you copy and paste from a word processor, the forum removes all formatting, but it's not that difficult to press "preview", now, is it?
Sir Elton Posted - 04 Sep 2004 : 04:16:55
Hey, Winterfox, here's another part of the roughy. tear this one part!



The Spine of the World provided a border between the realms of the south with the Sea of Ice beyond its mountains. Here lay the Laconic Valley, a valley of permafrost, small grasses, and lichens. Here, humans and orcs gathered for what they could for their masters. Both wore little, maybe a few skins, but that is all. Farming was little in the way up here, agriculture depended on the herding of musk oxen and caribou. the enslaved worked for the Laconic Orcs. It was here that Mash the Orc returned. Mash’s green hair and deep gray skin and bestial features meant that he was of that monstrous race that preferred great violence over diplomacy in order to expand the territory they needed to survive.
Mash was not a slave, far from it. He had no association with the others. Mash was an orc scout, an orc trained and charged with scouting the enemies of Laconia. However, he knew that his society was unlike any other Orc Tribe and their ways of chaos and unbridled wickedness. Their society was one of draconic, Spartan order. Mash looked around and saw that order. He passed boys who watched over arctic sheep wearing nothing but a fur cloak and a tunic. He’d seen strong and hungry adolescent male orcs who lived like wild animals; stealing for food what they needed to survive from the human and orc slaves. And finally, he passed the adult orcs and their large yurts each containing a Phalanx of men. The men and their clubs, Mash was glad he wasn’t truly a part of those.
However, when he met his mother, a lean orc and beautiful by orcish standards. She was shapely and well built. Her hair was starting to go gray and she was missing a fanged tooth, but she was as powerful as she'd ever been.
“You're back from your scouting mission,” she said ironically. She then hiked up her skirts. “I didn’t raise a scout, I raised a soldier. Are you ready to do your duty and climb back to where you came from?”
Mash knew she was serious. “It’s nice to see you too Mother,” said Mash dryly.
She let go of her skirts and slapped him across the face. “Don’t you talk back to me that way,” she said. “I’m your mother. I gave birth and raised real orcs to help defend their fellow orc men in times of war. It is my duty, the duty of every orc woman in the Iron Fist Tribe, to give birth to the next generation of soldiers. Now, act like a man and go see your wife.”
Mash smiled at that, as his own son was due to be born today. But his mother continued, “I hope to have a valiant grandson of which I could be proud of, Mash. Now Shugha has given birth to a fine baby boy who would grow up to be a fine soldier in our tribe to defend our tribe’s virtues and honor. Remember, the hero Shagduk, when he formed our society, he dreamed of an Orc Society that is the perfect Utopia.
“It was the will of Gruumsh, Shagduk said, that the Iron Fist Tribe be a strong tribe with laws and order. That the men be trained to fight and defend his home and his neighbor; and that the woman was to take care of affairs and be responsible for making the Iron Fist stronger with each new generation.”
Mash could not help but remember his tribe’s history. How the hero Shagduk reformed the tribe with laws and turned a wandering tribe of individualistic, evil orcs into an actual society where every Orc was a brother and every Orc was to provide for the common defense. He reformed the Iron Fist Tribe into a true nation city state, and made every orc swear a covenant to Gruumsh that this was the course to follow. From that time on, the Iron Fist Tribe and founded an actual city, Laconia, hidden in the Laconia valley of the Spine of the World.
He also remembered how his people enslaved the Orc Bear Tooth tribe and the Uthgardt Winter Mongoose Tribe. And, unlike most Orc tribes where orc women were treated as chattel, the women of Laconia had unparalleled freedom in the militaristic society.
“I have to make my report to the elders at the temple of Gruumsh,” said Mash to his mother. “The human town of Deadsnows is ripe for the picking.” Mash didn’t bother to look at his mother’s expression. He just dutifully marched towards the elders near the temple of Gruumsh. Mash passed a few orc children who were playing naked in the warming snow, another tradition designed to destroy the weaknesses of prudery and shame. The orcs of Laconia glorified and dignified the naked orc body.
The temple of Gruumsh was one raised in stone and metal, to attest to the glory of the Laconians. The elders of Laconia sat down in their cave adjunct to the Temple of Gruumsh. All of them waited for his report. The armies of Laconia depended on their orc scouts to provide advance information whether it is ripe to raid a human city like Deadsnows, or to outright conquer it.
“Report, Mash of the Orcs,” said Nergob, one of the Kings of Laconia.
“The people of Deadsnows are ripe for the pickings,” said Mash. “Our cousins from Citadel Fellbar are going to march against the people of Deadsnows. The humans will be overmatched by our uncivilized brethren. They won’t survive without reinforcements.”
Nergob considered it. “So they will be easy to attack and hit with great force. This isn’t good for us all. What do you see Khagdul. What is your insight?”
Khagdul was an old orc, given to be hidden among furs. His white hair and deep lines showed that he was one to be respected. Khagdul was a seer of the Iron Hand Tribes. His hand, withered with age, held up a hand. “There will come a time when Mithril Hall shall be reclaimed by a dwarf of the Icewind Dale; when Lady Alustriel will make a new nation against one King Obould of the Spine of the World. You must march against Deadsnows, mighty one, to ensure the future. For the bane of Obould’s Kingdom has already been born. March now, to ensure the future.”
Nergob then said, “I have already made a vow to march against Deadsnows and take it for our own. I vow that the people of Laconia will be vindicated and the future will be preserved. Prepare the Phalanxes. We will march against Deadsnows and take it by force.”
The orcs clamored their approval. Mash was worried, not for himself, but for his son. The oracle Khagdul said that his legacy will be in trouble of being left to the rocks if he did not take him to Deadsnows. Mash didn’t waist any time as he moved through the large camp. Many of the orc men were having their hair braided by other orcs, others were drinking beer in preparation for an invasion. Mash didn’t care, Shugha and his son was waiting for him. Despite what the oracle said, though, Mash was sure that he did not want his son to grow up among the Laconian orcs, whether or not he was superb.
Mash made it too his yurt. Here, Shugha smiled at him, holding a swaddled new born orc baby. The baby smiled at him with a cherubic smile. Shugha was an orc woman, and like most orc women, she had long hair and a face that would disgust any human with an upturned nose and fangs. However, her body was very lean and strong. Shugha gave the baby to Mash.
“He’s finished eating, and now he is sleeping,” said Shugha. “He’s a fine baby, and no doubt he would be a great soldier.”
Mash looked at his wife, whom he felt attracted to since they were children. “Shugha, I don’t want him to be a soldier among the Laconic people,” said Mash. “I don’t want him to have that lifestyle.”
Shugha’s jaw dropped. “It is our duty to provide for the next generation! You would leave him out on the rocks? I am surprised at you!”
“Life here is hard, Shugha. Too hard to ask any boy to go through,” said Mash. “I have to take him away from here, and be raised by a loving, free people beyond our borders.”
“No, I won’t be a part of this!” Shugha said as she took the baby from Mash, and held the baby close to her breast. “What you are suggesting is suicide. Suicide for our people!”
“Shugha, it will save his life!” Mash pleaded. “I want my son to live, not die!”
“No, he will be a great soldier for the State!” Shugha said. With that, she lifted the flap of the sleeping area of their yurt, and disappeared, letting the flap go down. Mash was left to consider what to do next.

Nighttime. The sun had gone down and cold entered the Laconia Valley. Mash woke up and crept into the nursery where his child had slept. Finding that his child was soundly asleep, he carefully picked him up and bundled him in more swaddling. Mash then put on his longbow around his back and his quiver of arrows. He sheathed his sword into its scabbard and put that on. He put on his winter gear, picked up his son, and left the yurt into the cold darkness.
Mash held his son to his naked breast in order to keep him warm, and then he moved south. From time to time the babe cried, but he had to keep moving. He took a bottle of Caribou milk with him, and he fed his son with that. However, the cries of orc babies in the night, those left to the elements pained him to the core. He had to move out of the valley and find shelter.

The next two days, Mash had made it to a warmer climate. He was following one of the rivers that flowed near the abandoned, ancient Dwarf Citadel of Mithril Hall. He knew that the other orcs may be chasing him, but his son was healthy and he needed meat.
Mash decided to hunt a deer. He found a fine buck, but his antlers were fine nubs, only five of them. Mash decided that this buck was five years old. Making sure that his son was safe, he let the arrow fly. The arrow flew and penetrated deeply into the hart’s flesh, piercing the heart. With in moments, the hart had collapsed in death. Mash picked up his son and moved forward. He took the deer and dragged it into the trees that he came out of.
Mash started a campfire and proceeded to skin the deer. He then gutted it and then he took off all of his clothes. Naked, he used the deer’s blood and smeared it on his clothes. Finally, he extracted the brains of the deer and rubbed it on the hide.
After dinner, Mash used the dear hide as a blanket, and he made sure that Sharn his son was well fed. “Little Sharn, I’m taking you to a better place. You won’t have to grow up as a Laconic orc soldier. I’m doing this to ensure your life.”
The next day, Mash walked on, with his sun bundled in some of the deer skin. It would take two weeks for Mash to retrace his journey to Deadsnows. From that time, he spent time playing with Sharn, feeding him, and changing his little loin cloth. Mash and Sharn crossed forests, rivers, and plains. They both saw many animals, from arctic foxes, to wolves, to even caribou and elk. Mash and Sharn would stop to bathe at times, as they followed the River Redrun. Finally, they reached the river Icespear, and they turned to follow it’s course to it’s source. Hiding from patrols that hail from Fellbar and even orc patrols from Citadel Adbar. Hugging the forests and the movement of caribou and deer, Mash and Sharn watched the Nether Mountains as they continued. Before they made it to Deadsnows road, it was then that Mash found the camp of Iron Fist orcs. There was a small force, only fifty of them. But he spotted them, with their fires aflame. Mash wondered if they were going to attack Deadsnows, until he heard marching to the north. He then saw thousands of his own kind marching down the Fork Road on the northside of the river.
Mash wondered to himself, Hundreds of orcs from Citadel Adbar. It boggles the mind. Mash hid himself and Sharn, and waited until morning.
Winterfox Posted - 03 Sep 2004 : 03:36:19
quote:
Originally posted by Capn Charlie

Always honest, always meticulous, always, well, a little scary... always Winterfox...


Why scary?

quote:
Believe you me, had she intended to insult you or truly disliked your work, she would not have bothered with any corrections, and just berated you for stupidity a bit.



Nah, actually, I'd probably be giving corrections that are accompanied by comments like "chisel this into your thick skull, you stoopid person you."
Capn Charlie Posted - 02 Sep 2004 : 15:38:57
Always honest, always meticulous, always, well, a little scary... always Winterfox...

Seriosuly, she knows her business, and I suggest yo utake her at her word she intends constructive criticism only.

Believe you me, had she intended to insult you or truly disliked your work, she would not have bothered with any corrections, and just berated you for stupidity a bit.
Seluus Posted - 02 Sep 2004 : 15:16:08
Good breakdown of the story Winter. I dont think there is much to add to that. I will say that the most noticeable of all these comments was the lack of compassion and kindness the elven woman showed after her description. That was by far the big glaring thing that stood out.

I will stil read anything you put up here though. I am sure my writing can take a beating too.

Seluus.
Winterfox Posted - 02 Sep 2004 : 05:49:16
quote:
After a furious winter, spring had come to Deadsnows in the Year of the Arch. It was a furious winter, Auril had made sure her hand was felt. But the snows began to melt from the Nether Mountains, the ice had melted and the streams began to flow. Like all days of Spring, it was a new beginning. But just not for the town of Deadsnows and the people in it, but for the animals as well. Birthing had come to the animals, as matings during the rutting season produced new baby animals.


Consider the redundancies. First we are told that it is after a furious winter, and spring has come. Then, right in the very next sentence, we're told again that it is a furious winter (!). And despite already being told that spring has come once, we are told again that the snow's melted and all -- which should have been already implied in the "spring has come" statement. Advice: kick out all the phrases that have the word "spring" in them. Describe melting snow and flowing streams and birthing animals, and that's enough -- the reader can assume that it's spring.

quote:
But in the household of Darin the Potter, a new life was waiting to begin.


Why "but" and not "and"? In the previous paragraph, you've just talked about beginning and birth. There's nothing in this sentence that contradicts that.

quote:
Glorawen was as stately as any elf noble woman of the gold elves; however her skin color, which of a light pink, said that she was a moon elf.


Error: sentence does not compute. Suggestion: "Glorawen was as stately as any gold elven noblewoman; however, her skin color -- which was of a light pink -- suggested that she was moon elven in blood."

Note: moon elves don't have pink skin. They have pale, pale skin, with tints of blue in certain spots.

quote:
Despite what ethnic group of elves that gave her birth, all the elves had looked to her wisdom and guidance.


Sentence does not parse. Try, "Whatever ethnic elven group birthed her, all elves..." (And I think the use of "ethnic" is weird here, but that's another can o' worms altogether.)

quote:
Her stomach bulged upward to show that she was nine months pregnant.


Redundant. Not even really necessary. Most readers are going to assume that she's nine months pregnant -- she's giving birth, dur -- unless stated otherwise.

quote:
as it’s lungs wanted a breath of fresh air.


Its. Its and it's are not, I repeat, not interchangable.

quote:
Somewhat exhausted, Martha motioned Glorawen towards her.


Errr. She's just given birth. "Somewhat" exhausted may be just a leeetle bit on the grossly understated side.

quote:
“I had insight that I should be here, Martha,” said Glorawen with all the kindness of an elf woman with a heart of gold.


One: she has "insight"? Are you sure that's the word you want? Two: show, not tell. Saying that she's a heart of gold is telling. Show how she's got a heart of gold.

quote:
“Glorawen, his name is . . . Elton . . . which means of the old town or estate . . .” she exhaustily said.


Exhaustedly.

quote:
Then Martha started to breath slowly, and then she gasped, and finally her body went limp.


For someone who's just "somewhat exhausted", she certainly dies, uhm, easily. Is there no attempt to save her life, in any case? Crikey, these are some cold-blooded people here.

quote:
The babe was washed of the water and the blood he was borne of. And Glorawen took the child. And looked at the ring.


*scratches head* Why the sentence fragments? I know fragments are good for giving dramatic impact, but I don't see anything particularly dramatic here, just factual.

quote:
Glorawen wondered what this could mean, but this meant also breaking to Darin that his wife had died in Childbirth.


The word "childbirth" doesn't need to be capitalized.

Some closing comments: the characters don't act like real people. For someone who's supposed to be so caring and kind, Glorawen is certainly pretty cold and expresses all the emotions of a tin robot. I don't expect her to start wailing in grief or anything, but she doesn't seem to feel any sympathy or compassion, even inwardly. She's clinical. Perfectly fine -- give me an emotionally detached Bene Gesserit over the stock "wise, kind, noble" archetype any day. The problem, however, lies in the fact that you've described Glorawen as golden-hearted, and her behavior contradicts that.

Some more details would have been nice. The childbirth should be fairly important, and I'd have liked to feel as if I was present in the scene. Perhaps the description of the... wherever this is taking place. Smell of blood. Seeing sweat pour down the birthing mother's face, hearing her screams, or some such. Hey, you're mentioning her vulva and all, so why shy away from some gritty, gory details?

As I've noted, you have a tendency toward redundant descriptions (the fact that Martha is naked is stated twice; got that the first time, thank you), so you might want to consider being a bit more concise. (To quote Strunks: "Omit needless words.")

Candlekeep Forum © 1999-2024 Candlekeep.com Go To Top Of Page
Snitz Forums 2000