A New Day.

The docks of Scara Brae were a mess of people. It was easy to be lost in the crowds, which was perfect for any to disappear. A robed figure walked through the crowd, his/her movements careful, so best not to bump into any soul and attract any attention. He/she appeared and disappeared just as quickly, like a ghost.

The robed figure left the mob of people. Walking down an empty street, he passed abandoned buildings, once filled with people, now their only tenants were vermin. The robed figure kept walking until he/she came upon a hut.

It was a broken-down hut. It should have already fallen, but yet it stood. Its splintered wooden walls and thatch roof smelling of decay still stood like proud old soldiers unwilling to stand down. The robed figure knocked three times on the door. One long and two short.

The door creaked open, barely, but enough for a black dot in a sea of red stared out at the figure.

“Where does a man’s heart lie?” Asked a hoarse voice, like it had been use to speaking.

“For wherever his family is.” Replied the figure; the answer came n a soft, barely hearable, voice.

The door creaked a little more open, just enough for the figure to slip in.

“How did you survive the massacre, Brother?” Asked the first speaker. A tall man with hair cropped short to his head. He was not a handsome man. His noise was too long and his eyes were too strange. He pulled his guest’s chair out and then his.

“I didn’t. The leader of the attackers believed my age made able to be saved, thank the Trinity.” The figure said as he/she sat down. “How did you survive it?”

“I was tending to a hurt member of one of the villages below the Archives. They hid me until they left and since I could not feel the others anymore, so I left for a new place. How did you escape the attackers?”

“They let me go. After seven years, they believe me to be “saved”

“So why have you come here? I’m sure it was not for me and there are no known ruins of the Others or the Golden Age here, so what has brought you here?”

“Two reasons. My captors have no base of operation here and there is one relic I wish to recover from the hands of a Deceived.”

“Who might this Deceived be?”

“A merchant named Lukin Wyevale.”

The first speaker froze. Fear came upon his face like a flower bloomed. “Do you know who this merchant is, Brother?” Asked the figure.

“He is one of the most wealthy and connected merchants in Scara Brae. Close to both the royalty and the criminal. No one would dare to try to do anything against him or risk the wrath of many powerful parties. I would suggest you throwaway this idea immediately.” Said the man, his voice going low as if someone might be listening.

“I can’t, Brother. I have suffered too long for my faith to see a relic of my gods in the hands of someone who doesn’t even understand the basics of the faith.” The robed figure said. “If you will help me, then I thank you, but if you will not, then I shall say good-bye.”

The speaker said. “Very well, my Brother. I know of a thief. One insane enough to help you, but het isn’t to be trusted.”

“Is any thief.”

“True, but most thieves are smart enough to wait after they have been paid to stab you in the back. This one will stab you for breathing wrong. He is violent and paranoid. Never turn your back on him.”

“Okay, now tell me his name.”

“Crawth. He is an Orc. You’ll find him in a tavern called the Salty Fishwife.” Said the first speaker.

“Thank you, Brother. Another question: is there jeweler nearby?” Asked the robed figure.

The Salty Fishwife was an awful place. Packed with smelly drunks and cheap whores, it was disgusting spot, smelling of unwashed bodies, cheap perfume, cheap ale, and unwashed bodies. The door opened and a robed figure entered the room. No one paid him any attention, rather wanting to focus on the empty cup or women in front of him or her.

The figure moved through to the back of the room where a group of men and women, all wearing tight-fitting clothes with knives on the table, sharing space with gold and tankards of ale.

“Excuse me, sirs and ladies. I am seeking a member of your trade named Crawth.” Said the robed figure. The group looked up at the figure. One rose from the table, a large orc. He was a handsome, angular feature with three scars across his left cheek.

“What do you want?” The orc said, most likely Crawth.

“I require you to commit a___” The robed figure stopped when the orc drew up his hand.

“Don’t say another damn word, you idiot. Kith, take this idiot to the back.” Said Crawth. A human stood up and grabbed the robed figure, pulling him out of the room into another.

This one was even less furnished than the first. Three chairs around a box. Kith pushed the robed figure down in the first chair and walked a chair on the other side.

The door opened again and this time, Crawth came in. He sat down next to Kith and looked at the robed figure.

“So ya want a job done?” Crawth said.

“Yes, I require the retrieval of a special item from a merchant.” The robed figure said.

“What’s the target’s name?”

“I don’t know, but I do know where he is living.”

“Fine. Where does he live and what’s the thing look like?”

“In an area called Golden Gate, in a large manor with sun banners over the walls of the entrance to the manor. The object wanted is a book with a rough leather cover with a gold tree emblazoned on it.”

“Golden Gate’s a heavily guarded part of town. That’ll cost ya fifty gold Crowns.” Crawth said. The robed figure placed a small bag on the table. Kith grabbed up the bag and pulled it open, counting each gold piece. Finished, he nodded to Crawth. “Alright, meet back here in two days and we’ll have your book.”

“Very well, good day sirs.” The robed figure said, stood up and left.

Crawth sat in his chair, looking at a map. It was a map of some large building with multiple rooms like a castle or manor. Kith came up, holding two cups in hand. Passing both to Crawth, he sat down besides him.

“So what’s the plan?” Kith asked.

“There isn’t one. We’re not going to do anything. This house is owned by Lukin Wyevale.” Crawth said.

Kith whistled. “Wow, we’re definitely not going to that then.”

“Yep. Now let’s see-“Crawth was about to say when the door blew open. The blast sent Kith flying, but only knocked down Crawth. He drew himself up, pulling out a dirk from his belt. Like flashes of lightning, came out three blurs, heading straight at Crawth.

He grabbed a chair and tossed it at the center blur. It dodged the throw and slammed into Crawth. Both fell to the floor. The blur turning out to be a person covered in leather with a red hand on its face covering. It raised a fist, leather-gloved with spikes on it, and punched Crawth in the face, but it was too slow. Crawth grabbed the hand and with a twist, leaving the attacker’s wrist hanging off the rest. It tried to pull off, but Crawth had too strong. He rose up, grabbing the attacker’s leg and raised him over his head before slamming the attacker down on his knee. He threw the figure off as the second came at him. He tried to grab the outstretched hand, but this one moved at the last second when the third came in, its dagger piercing Crawth and went away just as quick when Crawth turned, swinging out with his dirk.

As he turned the second came back, but this time, Crawth turned just as he closed in. Crawth’s fist crashed into its face covering, sending the second to the floor. Crawth jumped and slammed his full weight onto the second. He rose back up and turned to face the third, but it was no where in sight.

“Kith, you still alive?” He shouted. Nothing answered him. He walked to Kith and saw the skin split open with blood pooling around his neck. Crawth sighed, he sat besides Kith and crossed his arms and closed his eyes, whispering something, most likely a prayer.

He then searched the attackers. Two well-made knives and a couple of bottles of some blue liquid was all he could find. He raised his head, sniffing the air. It took a minute before he said anything, but it was short.

“Fuck.”

A blur sped through the city. It moved over vendors, pedestrians, and all other. A quick breeze was all that was felt as it ran. It passed through the ghettos, the homes of the middle-class all the way to Golden Gate. It stopped in front of an ornate iron-wrought gate, symbols carved into the gate.

A man in mail with a spear in hand and a sword sheathed came up. Once he saw the assassin, he touched a symbol on the gate with a crystal. The assassin stood back and the gates opened. Once open, the assassin blurred again. It sped past, through the doors of the mansion, passed a series of room until he reached one guarded by two figures in the same armor. He stopped, allowing the guards to open the doors.

This room was large, filled with bookshelves filled with books. A fireplace split the continuation of shelves with two chairs in front of it. He ran up to the chair on the left, whispered into the occupant’s ear, and then left.

“I must apologize, Master Lukin. My assassins have failed. Crawth is still alive, but do not worry, I will have Crawth lying dead with his head gone.” Said the left chair occupant.

“I have the utmost trust in you, Master Dogisi, but now I must inform my guest. I will return in a moment.” Master Lukin said. He rose up and walked into another room where a robed figure was sitting, holding a book in his hands.

“I am afraid, Lord Argus, that the thief has survived.” He said to the robed figure. The figure rose up, pulling back the hood. Revealing a pale face, lean, but could not be called handsome or even normal. His eyes were too strange. One was a completely black dot in completely red sclera and the other was a reverse.

“This was expected. The forces amassed against our holy mission would not have chosen an improper candidate. So will you do what I ask?” The strange-eyed man asked.

“I feel I have no choice. Take the book, my ship will take you to Corone.”

“No, I have an Order vessel waiting for me, but I will require a weapon.”

“Of course, what type?”

“A crossbow.” Said Lord Argus

The Seacowwas a common ship. A caravel with two main sails, a blue flag fluttering in the sea breeze, and common brown hull. On the bow sat a man with a small table in front of him, cloth covering it with a small cup on that.

He took sips from his cup, watching the sea.

“You shouldn’t have tried to kill me and you definitely shouldn’t have killed my friend.’ Said a new voice. The man turned to see Crawth standing in front of him. His dirk out with the hand tightened around by the tips of the fingers turning pale green.

“Yes, but sometimes we must kill and unfortunately, you and your friend were in one of those cases. How did you survive the fourth assassin? From what I was told, he was impossible to see.” Asked the man.

“True, but I could still smell him.”

“Ah, well done. Now are you going to finish this or just stand there?”

“Throwaway the crossbow.”

“The rumors were all wrong about you, my friend.” The man said as he pulled out a loaded crossbow and placed it a few feet away from before returning to his seat.

“What I was hoping they would do.” He said, raising his dirk and swung down.

“કામમંદી.” The man said. The air crackled as things that were not supposed to be heard by mortal ears. The dimming of stars, the freezing of worlds, and the wails of billions. All combined with the thunder of creation.

Crawth slowed down. He moved so sluggishly, so slow, it was like a hundred pounds were placed upon him.

The man stood up, picked up the crossbow, aimed at Crawth, and let fly the bolt. Crawth fell, still slow, but fell nonetheless for a minute until he just dropped.

The man threw away the crossbow and sat back down, sipping his drink while watching the sea.

Thread Title: A New Day
Judgement Type: Full Rubric
Participants: wolfroad

Plot ~ 12/30

Story ~ 6/10 – the strongest part of the thread, mainly because of foreshadowing, the keywords and jargon you’ve utilised in describing your characters’ faith, and the little flourish of action and excitement in the middle with the assassination attempt. I certainly feel as if the story could have been longer, and it did feel rushes, hence the lower pacing and technique scores, so in the future, consider if it feels quick, out of synch, or like you’ve forced something to end for fear of dragging it out too long. If you think that, and then you’re over compensating – just let the heart speak, and the story will be the right pace if you know what you want to write.

Setting ~ 3/10 – little flourishes, like the vermin line, and the use of nautical terms surrounding the Salty Fishwife gave you the groundwork in the thread, but the description was meagre at best. Include, as a base, the five senses, and then try and say one thing about every character or main location, regardless if it seems mundane. Hair colour, eye colours, and clothing style are all really asinine things to talk about, but as this is a book, not a film, the reader needs little prompts to help them build a picture. Without these, they’re left in the dark, and as you’ll realise as you write more and more, the rubric is parasitic – you need contributions to all parts of it to develop a well written tale.

Pacing ~ 3/10 – elongate the scenes, build up to the opening scene more, and consider how to develop action into a fight scene. One sword strike can become ten with the right prerogative. The thread felt rushed, out of synch, and though the middle with Crawth was improved, the ending drifted off into obscurity without a fanfare. I would strongly consider the general (or rather, own personal goal) of 9-10 posts, each of approximately 700 words. For a short story that works out at 7000 or so which is at the top scale of the literary norm. You should work in your standard beginning, middle, and end within that framework, and then you can shorten and lengthen it as required. That is, naturally, just a personal opinion. For pacing in the Rubric’s terms, slow and steady wins the race, just not too slow, and not tortoise steady.

Character ~ 9/30

Communication ~ 3/10 – the main issue here was the grammar, clarity, and structure of speech. You earned a 3 for the content, which was purposeful, sullen, and by the numbers. Communication needn’t just be plot advancement, though – you can portray emotion with little flourishes of everybody’s favourite italic, or bold, when sparingly used, can really raise tension in a scene. Do you know what I mean?

Action ~ 3/10 – in posts 3 and 4, the main action takes place, with the attempt on Crawth’s life. This is the solitary shining point in action, with the remainder of the thread being barren. My advice here is to focus less on one, big, and epic scene, and to spread the encounter over the course of your tale. Little clashes, leading up to a big clash, that then pester out into little after quakes can be just as effective as wowing the reader with one gambit. Remember also to be clear, distinct, and simplistic in describing physical motion. One false step and you’ve lost focus, the reader, and importantly, marks off the Rubric.

Persona ~ 3/10 – you need to try and intertwine your character profile blurb with your character’s actions, thoughts, and speech. There was little in the thread, save the remorse and the reverence of your character’s religion that told us anything meaningful about the character. Persona is the heart and soul of a person, and it should be evocative of the emotion you want the reader to feel at any given point. If they’re angry, show they’re angry, make the world react to them, and make the blood boil – saying it is one thing, making it happen is another.

Prose ~ 9/30

Mechanics ~ 2/10 – mechanics are, to be blunt, not easy to master. Any writer, however, can learn from his mistakes, and get to grips with rule after rule in order to improve in time. In this thread in particular, there were several instances per thread of serious mechanical failures. I’d point you to three areas to focus on improving, in order to develop –

Speech Mark Grammar – punctuation is a heinous thing, but it needs to be learnt. Never capitalise a continuation of a speech after a question mark or an exclamation mark, such as:

Johnny, do you want some cake?” she said.

Always use commas, not full stops, when describing the speaker or action accompanying the speech. You began in post one doing this, and repeated the error at least every other post. Another marked mistake is the dropping of closing speech marks in several places. Paragraph four, post two, you put “saved”, you should quote in single parenthesis and close off the line. So: ‘saved’”.

Clarity~ 4/10 – sentence structure was your main enemy here. What you said was fine, it was how you said it that diluted clarity. When you write, always leave it for a while, go back to it, and read it aloud. It might sound nubile, but the way you write and speak in your head is often convoluted and scrambled to how you do aloud. The brain has an innate ability to fill in the blanks when not side-tracked with audible speech, so can lead you astray. Paragraph two, post one, is written:

‘Walking down an empty street, he passes abandoned buildings, once filled with people, now their only tenants were vermin.’

I really, really like this description. However, clarity and sentence structure are off. Consider the difference between the above, and a quick re-write:

He began to walk down an empty street. He passed long abandoned buildings, once filled with people, now occupied only by vermin.

The essence is the same, the clarity, much improved, and you remain in the same tense. Double check tense as you go, and then check again before you submit for judgement – sometimes we, as writers, change our minds about it halfway through writing, and forget we started in another context entirely.

Technique ~ 3/10 – it’s difficult to suggest technique improvements to somebody without sounding condescending. I would focus on your strengths in your next endeavour, which appears to be mystery, intrigue, and religious portrayal, and really focus on reining in grammatical errors, sentence structure, and the basics even the best, published, and revered writers often forget. You had foreshadowing, you had intrigue, and you had rivalry and portrayed it in your character’s actions. You did not capitalize on this, however, and you did not deliver on promises made. I am always fond of tripling (three hammer blow rhyming words used in listed description) and personification – giving something a title and a presence, even when there’s no physical construct – such as Love, that Scattered Man, and Fear, a Dark Abyss in the room.

Wildcard: 4/10 – I am actually quite intrigued to know more about the character’s background, his faith, and the various tenets which underpin his world. There’s obviously some thought put into why your character is here, and what he’s doing. I appreciated that very much, and for a debut, there’s much to be said for capturing your reader with just a little spark of excitement. Crawth survived…but what next? Why all the intrigue, subterfuge, and stealth between the Brotherhood? I would be more than happy to go into much greater detail with you, when you start your next thread, and more so, I’ll be there, reading the next – don’t be disheartened, use this as a drive to improve, and congratulations on your first successful adventure in our world of potential!

Total ~ 34/100

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Wolfroad gains 272 experience and 100 gold.

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Please feel free to get in touch with me via PM for more indepth and constructive advice.

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Thank you, so much!

EXP/GP added.