Hi there community, Syrus here presenting my very first fan fiction. I have long been both an aspiring writer and a fan of the Elder Scrolls games so it surprised me that the two had not met sooner.

I've been intrigued by the effect the Oblivion Crisis would have on the 'normal folk' who wern't prophercised heroes or legion generals. And thus the tale Darrius and Dara-Ja begins. An old farmer and his helper who try to get by as their lives are torn apart by the crisis. The stage is set for a story of loss, friendship and heroism in the most unlikely of places.

As always constructive criticsm is welcome (it will invariably help me with my other writing projects.) Likewise if anyone would be interested in posting related art/illustrations it would be greatly appreciated.

One final note; I will be releasing this in scenes. This is because I would like to release segments fairly regulary and whole chapters may become unweildly. Furthermore it will be a great asset for building tension/suspense/intrigue between posts.

So without further ado I give you "Lives torn Asunder - The Tale of Darrius and Dara-Ja" Read on, and I hope you enjoy.

Lives Torn Asunder

Scene 1

The Imperial picked his way through the dense forest, he wore a stern expression, amplified by his furrowed brow and a long scar that wound it's way across the bridge of his nose and down his cheek. He moved with grace that belied his age, although the burly man was clearly getting on in life, the wiry, gray hair and gnarled features were testament to that. Walking a good few paces behind him was a young Khajiit, attired in clothes so patched it was impossible to tell their original colour. Her ears were flattened dejectedly to her head which was hung in shame. She bore a stark contrast to the Imperial as the two wound their way through the woods. Her lithe frame and fair coloration made her the epitome of youth, while her large, wide eyes and slender hands gave her an air of innocence that few Khajiit possessed.

"I'm appalled with your actions, Dara-Ja." The Imperial said at long last, not diverting his eyes from the path ahead. Dara-Ja, said nothing.
"I'm going to double your work load, for two weeks." He continued, his gravely voice hinting of barely suppressed anger. "You should be grateful, if the missus found out what you had done she would have you out on your [censored], no mercy. Your actions were inexcusable."
Dara-Ja stared transfixed at her hands, clutching one another across her chest. "I, I'm sorry Darrius, I don't, I don't know what came over me."
"Neither do I you accursed girl." Came the cold reply, Dara-Ja flinched with the insult. "But there is to be no more mention of it, or I'll have you back on the streets of the Imperial City."
Dara-Ja mumbled in agreement, fighting back tears she followed Darius back to the farmstead. He was right, what she had tried was stupid, and inexcusable, but that knowledge couldn't change her feelings, her desires.

The young Khajiit was a farmhand on Darrius' farm. It was a small, family affair. Darrius and his son Rufus would rear the livestock and hunt in the forests while Dara-Ja and Darrius' wife Milena would tend the crops and do the housework. When enough goods were gathered Darrius and Rufus would load up their wagons and travel to various markets across Cyrodiil, earning money for new clothes, tools and amenities. It was on one of these outings Darrius had found Dara-Ja. She was a homeless beggar on the streets of the Imperial City, so helpless did she look that Darrius had offered her a chance to live and work on his farm, a random act of kindness in a large and dangerous world. Dara-Ja had never looked back, but now she feared her latest actions may have jepordised her happiness. Darrius had always been a kind and caring master, a father figure even but Milena? Many were the beatings Dara-Ja had received for pinching food from the larder, a firm mistress if there ever was one. The young Khajiit prayed that the consequences of her foolishness would blow over quickly.

The sun was setting as the pair crested the hill that sheltered the farmstead. But all was not well. An orange glow haloed the mound and smoke bellowed skywards. Darrius heart skipped a beat, fire? His mind and heart racing he ran to the top of the hill. And froze.
"Milena?" He muttered to himself. "Rufus? By the Gods what is this?" He cried. The farmstead was in ruins and the surrounding fields ablaze. The cattle and horses slay slaughtered in their pens. It was a scene of utter devastation. Lightning forked across the blood red sky, temporarily blinding Darrius. When his vision returned he found his gaze transfixed on the fiery portal that protruded from the ruins of his house. The man roared in anguish. Drawing his long hunting nice he raced towards his house, calling out for his loved ones. Behind him Dara-Ja cried for him to stop but he payed her no heed. Reaching the house he barreled in through the cracked oaken door.

"No!" He moaned. " Anything but this!" Laying spreadeagled in front of him were the pale corpses of his wife and son. Great wracking sobs overwhelmed him as he took in the destruction. Then he froze. A man, clad in black robes was watching him. A hood pulled down so low it concealed his face, the stranger stood unfazed in front of the fiery portal. He did the unthinkable, he laughed. A dry humourless laugh that penetrated Darrius' very soul. Roaring, Darrius lashed out with his knife, but the stranger calmly stepped backwards into the portal, and was gone.

Darrius found himself thrown to the floor, pain flared up his side. Rolling onto his back he caught sight of his assailant, a reptile like creature, it sported a bony crest and blood stained horn. Towering over him the creature lifted its beaked head, ready to strike again. Quickly Darrius lashed out, slashing it across the jugular. Hot, black blood sprayed into his face as the creature let forth a death wail. He lay there, chocking from the smoke and the stench of blood. Suddenly a scream dragged him back to his senses. Dara-Ja. Clumsily rising he stumbled back outside. Dara-Ja was running in circles, yowling in pain, her tail was alight and the stench of burnt fur mixed with the miasma of other rotten smells. An impish like monster was cackling sadistically at the young Khajiits pain. With unchecked rage he cut down the scamp before it even acknowledged his presence. Chasing after the still screaming Khajiit, he tackled he to the floor before stamping out her burning tail. Dara-Ja let out a final yowl of pain before curling up where she lay and mewling pitifully in the mud, tears streaming down her cheeks. Darrius dragged her to her feet, his vision bleary with tears of his own. "Come on!" He called over the roar of thunder. "We have to get out of here!" Holding on to her arm the pair fled back into the forests from whence they had just came, abandoning the farmstead to the blood red skies above it and the flames of Oblivion that engulfed it.

Awesome! More, More, More!!!

The only thing I saw was this:

(I assumed it was knife, but could be wrong)

Great storyline!!

A collatarol damage fan-fic? Interesting! Count me as one of your readers. Keep the updates coming! :goodjob:

Although it wasn't too troubling, I was a little agitated reading such huge blocks of text. While this story was actually intriguing and helped out with that some, it still slowed my read just a teeny bit. Try breaking the texts into smaller chunks. While books and longer stories outside of TES are tolerable, trying to read so many words jammed together on a computer screen can hurt the eyes some.

Other than that, I loved the story. Thumbs up! Oh, and I noticed you joined the forums on the 13th -- the day of my 18th birthday! And for that, I believe a http://www.flickr.com/photos/87777282@N00/2736877953/ is in order! Just pick one.

They give fishy sticks, I give cupcakes. Welcome to the forums!

-Dren

Very interesting. I like your premise, of a story about regular people caught up in the crisis, rather than heros. You start out very well, with a gripping piece of action that draws us into the tale. I will be reading more to see what happens to Dara-Ja and Darrius! :thumbsup:

Since you asked for constructive criticism, here goes.

The main thing I noticed is that you are doing a lot of telling, rather than showing. Especially when you gave us the background on how Darrius found Dara-Ja, and how the farm worked, etc... It would be better to show all of that through dialogue, describing it in someone's memories, or simply revealing it as it happens. http://www.right-writing.com/showme.html page will give you some examples of showing vs telling.

The other thing is your formattting. I am guessing that like most people you wrote this in Word or some other word processor and then pasted it into the forum. You can lose your formatting when you do that sometimes. That might be how you lost the spaces between many of the paragraphs in your dialogue. So this:



ought to look like this:





Also this forum has a filter that blocks some objectionable words. You ran into it in the second paragraph above, where it replaced your word with [censored]. I know it can be a hassle trying to come up with words that will get by, but it is better than having that pop up instead.

Hey Syrus, I feel an ordinary urgency as life goes sour in Lives torn Asunder. A bitter beginning turned tragic. Might the kindness of Darrius be repaid 10fold by the street knowledged Dara-Ja? Will her rejected desires keep them sane amid a living hell?

Include me in as reader and minor editor if you will. Well done.

attired in clothes so patched it was impossible to tell their original colour. (color)
but now she feared her latest actions may have jepordised (jeopardized) her happiness.
Behind him Dara-Ja cried for him to stop but he payed (paid) her no heed.
A dry humourless (humorless) laugh that penetrated Darrius' very soul.
he tackled he (her) to the floor before stamping out her burning tail.

Hi again guys, thanks so much for the support + feedback it's helping with my first steps into this new forum/world. Really, it is just what I was looking for. Unfortunately being a forum noob I have no idea how do edit posts to fix typo's, just goes to show you can never proof read enough times.

Just a few points before we begin:

• Regarding showing vs telling, i worried about this as i wrote it but, being fanfic and not a novel i was eager to get stuck in with the meat of the story and thought it would be a quicker way of setting the background. (I'm eager to here your viewson this).
  
• I will try to keep the paras smaller, i appreciate the glare of pc screens can make you lose your place.
  
• Happy (belated) birthday lord Dren.
  
• Thanks for all the spell-checker/editors, on a note quite a few americanisms were posted, I'm english so we sometimes have ou rather than o and s rather than z.

Thanks for all commenting and readingm so enough of me, I give you the next to chapters.



SCENE 2

His old heart was pounding in his chest as he ran, this was too much, too fast. Darrius' mind reeled at the enormity of what had happened. It was, incomprehensible, he hadn't expected to lose them, he couldn't have anticipated what happened. And what did happen? Darrius thought. Had hell itself broken loose in his farmstead? What manner of evil had transpired, he had always been faithful to the Nine, why had this happened? He couldn't understand, the pain, the guilt, it was all too much.

Crying out Dara-Ja lost her grip on his hand, stumbling she fell with a crash to the forest floor.

"No more." She wheezed where she lay. "No more running Darrius, I can't go on." Slowly Darrius walked to where she lay, sitting down beside her. He held his head in his hands, painfully gasping for air. He was getting old and could keep the pace up no better than Dara-Ja. Rain poured in through the forest canopy, pattering off the already drenched pair. Dara-Ja observed Darrius forlornly, she didn't know what to say.

"Darrius," She began, her soft voice little more than a whisper. Darrius didn't move, she was about to continue, but he cut her short.

"I have lost, everything." He moaned, his voice croaked with sorrow. "My beautiful wife, my son." He looked up into Dara-Ja's large eyes. She looked more pitiful than ever, her fur all matted from the rain. "Everything I ever loved or worked for or cared about is, gone." He wiped his eyes, choking back tears. "What crueler fate could a man suffer? I have nothing left." He plunged his head back into his hands and began to sob. Dara-Ja was crying as well for no greater sorrow had she witnessed in someones eyes before. Tenderly she put a hand on the broken man's shoulder.

"You have me." She reassured him through her tears. Darrius looked up, meeting her gaze once more. Memories of the afternoon washed over him and his expression changed from that of sorrow to rage. Snarling he lashed out at Dara-Ja with the back of his hand. Only the Khajiit's agile reflexes saved her from injury, she threw herself onto her back whimpering in fright. Darrius rose to his feet, advancing over the cowering Khajiit, his face a contorted mask of rage.

"You!" He cried, his deep voice filling the forest. "You lured me out of the farmhouse this afternoon! I should have stayed! I should have died with them!"

"What good would that have done?" Dara-Ja wailed fearfully in reply. "What good are you to anyone dead?" The statement shook Darrius, the rage fled face as quickly as it had arrived. He dropped to his knees, tears filling his eyes once more.

"Your right." He whispered, his voice barely registrable. "Dara, I'm so sorry, it's just that. Today..." he trailed off, not moving. Gingerly, Dara-Ja rose to her knees, crawling over to Darrius she wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder. The two knelt there, locked in embrace as the heavens poured down around them.

Darrius' watched the sleeping form of Dara-Ja thoughtfully. She looked, at peace, curled up like a cat at his feet. He couldn't sleep, not so soon after... It slowly sunk in, she was all he had. The only thing left he cared about, even if they didn't exactly see eye to eye. This led him to another epiphany, the poor girl, she hadn't a clue what was going on, she had lost her home as well and she was confused enough as it is. Darrius resolved to be more caring of her in future, but one thing was clear to him; this wasn't going to be easy for either of them. Gently he reached down and shook her awake.

"Dara." He spoke, as softly as his gravelly voice allowed. "Dara, we can't afford to rest anymore. We must be moving." The sun had risen and although it had rained long into the night, it had finally given into clear skies. The forest was silent, save for the rustling of the wind. Just as Darrius' had always known it, but it wasn't the same. It felt, different now, now he knew there were alien, unfathomable horrors concealed in its depth.

Dara-Ja rose stiffly, yawning, the Khajiit sniffed the air. "Where will we go?" She asked stretching.

"Kvatch." He answered confidently. "It is the closest city and the Count must be warned, maybe he could send a missive to the Empire. Besides," He added. "Perhaps the chapel would take us in for now. I see no other option than the streets, and I am no beggar."

Dara-Ja had begun using a tree as a back-scratcher, rubbing against the bark contentedly. "I'm so hungry." She groaned, as she bobbed up and down. "Do we have any breakfast?"

Darrius shot her a stern look that answered her question and so, with a heavy sigh she made ready to leave, side by side the two began making their way south towards Kvatch.

The two continued in silence for some time before Dara-Ja announced a fearful premonition.
"What if we find more of those gates?" She asked with a shiver.

This sent a chill down Darrius' spine. "We'll have to skirt around them." He replied, not really concentrating on the conversation. "We couldn't win in a fight against those creatures." He turned around to see Dara-Ja trembling. He took her hand. "Don't be afraid, while you are by my side, I will protect you." The comment felt hollow as he said it, what good could he do? A farmer with too many years behind him. This made Dara-Ja break into an uneasy smile all the same.

"I've never been scared when I am with you." she replied, gripping his hand tightly.

After a while she continued with renewed cheer. "Did you see the way you dispatched that monster? You never told me you could fight like that!"

This caused Darrius to chuckle. "It was a lamb to the slaughter." He said blushing. "Don't get any ideas of this old timer having a secret double life as a Blade." This made the pair laugh. "Besides, I thought you were too hysterical to notice."

"My tail was on fire!" Dara-Ja cried indignantly, grabbing her tail and indicating to the blackened end. Her mood became sullen. "It hurt so much."

"I'm sorry." Came Darrius reply with genuine empathy, memories of the prevoius days terror flooding into him. "How are you now?"

The Khajiit's ears perked up a little. "Not to bad." She renewed her grip on his hand and allowed herself to be led through the forest.


Scene 3


Darrius' strolled through the woods, whistling a merry tune. It was day's like this that made him glad to be alive. The sun was shining, the breeze was cooling and he felt as if the forest themselves were calling out to him. He truly had found his little bit of Cyrodiilic paradise. In his hand he clutched a rough piece of parchment. A source of intrigue for him. Scrawled upon it, in barely legible handwriting were the words; "Meet me at the creek, there is something I must show you. - Dara-Ja." What on earth it was Darrius didn't know but it could certainly wait for him as he reveled in the afternoon stroll.

The creek was a location of absolute beauty. Hidden away in the forest, secluded by trees, a small stream and waterfall formed a quaint little plunge pool. The moisture in the ground meant that moss grew well, making the floor spongy and soft, like a well stuffed mattress. Many were the romantic evenings Darrius and his wife had spent here. But what could Dara-Ja possibly want to show him?

He entered the pools' clearing, taking in every little detail just as he remembered it. The soft moss, the smell of pine, the gentle trickling of water. Bliss. He looked about for Dara-Ja and spotted the Khajiit resting on a fallen log, apparently unaware of him. She was sprawled out, breathing deeply as she took in the sun's rays. Her heavily patched tunic was undone to an almost scandalous level and the sight of the young woman made Darrius' feel uneasy.

"Well?" He inquired, his loud, rough voice the jarred with the surroundings.

Dara-Ja started, sitting up quickly she turned to face him. "Darrius" she sighed quietly.

The Imperial looked on quizzically, "Why did you summon me Dara, I still have much work to do."

"Darrius," she repeated. "Come closer, there is something I must tell you." This only heightened Darrius' unease, he took several steps further into the clearing. "Don't be silly Darrius." Dara-Ja continued, staring shyly at her feet. "This is important."

He continued to approach the Khajiit, right up until they were face to face. This close he could take in all the girl's acute details, but perhaps the most striking was her smell. For one with so dirty clothes, she carried the scent of wild flowers, it was subtle and yet, so pleasing.

"Well?" He repeated, quieter this time. He stared down at Dara-Ja, she seemed agitated, perhaps something was wrong. Slowly, she looked up and locked gaze with him. There was something in her eyes, Darrius thought, something... Without warning Dara-Ja reached up, pressing her lips against his. Darrius' eyes widened with alarm, what was she doing, why was she kissing him? Quickly he through his arms back as if to say he wasn't involved. Recoiling from Dara-Ja, he was alarmed and confused at what has transpired. Slowly composing himself, he looked up ready to give the yelling of a life time. But Dara-Ja was gone. In her place was a man, all clad in black robes, with a hood pulled down so low, you couldn't see his face.

"You!" Screamed Darrius with endless rage. He tried to attack the man but found himself rooted to the spot.

"Such anger." Tutted the stranger. "Understandable considering one as troubled as yourself." He paused. "I'm sure you would be pleased to know your families death was far from painless."

Darrius snarled and roared at this, but was still unable to move. "Why me?" he managed finally, his grief penetrating his anger.

"Oh, do not take it personally." Retorted the stranger. "This is far from a localized attack. No, I think many will suffer a similar fate to you in the grand scheme of things. Such is the nature of, ah." Stopped the stranger short. "I get ahead of myself. But." The word sent a shiver down Darrius' spine. "You do have something I want." declared the stranger coldly. "Something I will do everything in my considerable power to get. Hard times lay ahead for all, but you had best watch out. For I will be waiting."

Darrius' screamed, sitting bolt upright. There was a great scuffle in the bed roll next to him, Dara-Ja's head protruded from the sheet.

"Are you alright?" She asked fearfully.

Darrius was extremely pale. "Yes," he began, wiping cold sweat from his face. "Yes, just nightmares." Dara-Ja remained silent, she could imagine what one as troubled as Darrius would dream about. Looking around, Darrius clambered out of his bedroll. "The sun is young," he mumbled. "Best get moving."

Only two days had past since they set off from the ruins of the farm, the way on had been made no easier by the lack of food. That previous night the pair had stumbled onto the main road, exhausted. Luckily they had found a roadside camp to pass the night in.

"Let us make a good pace." Darrius called out to Dara-Ja who was lagging behind. "We are only hours from Kvatch."

"It's alright for you!" Retorted the Khajiit, panting as she tried to keep up. "With your comfy leather shoes!" She stumbled a bit on the road surface but avoided falling. "I've never been allowed shoes!" She continued. "And my feet are killing me!"

Darrius slowed down so she could catch up. "I thought Khajiit's didn't wear shoes?" he asked bemused.

"Well that's a matter of choice not a universal law!" whined Dara-Ja, exasperated. "I've always wanted a pair of Colovian Fur boots, so warm and stylish." Wishful thinking now Darrius thought as she continued on with her list of things she had never been able to buy.

"You know what I've always wanted?" Darrius' interjected eventually, becoming bored of Dara's seemingly never ending rant. "A muzzle." Hr answered himself before she could continue.

Stopping, Dara-Ja raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Why would you want one of them?"

Darrius turned around to face her. With one hand he grabbed Dara-Ja's nose and chin, holding her mouth shut. "Because sometimes I just need to shut you up." He chuckled.

Dara-Ja backed away, breaking free of his grasp. "You wouldn't!" she cried out indignantly.

"Oh I would." came her reply. Turning, Darrius continued to walk on. Dara-Ja stood still for a while thinking, then ran to catch up with him.

"You wouldn't do that to me!" She called out, unsure whether to believe the old farmers jests.

"Just try me." He replied insistently. Laughing as the two walked on, he thought he put up a good charade. But no amount of comedy could distract him from the pain he felt inside, or the momentous task of survival he knew lay ahead.

Awesome story! A few spelling errors, but otherwise great!
I misspelled spelling... the irony!

Ha, if this doesn't give me the right to say I give "friggin' long" critiques I don't know what will



Yes, I always type in Word, and I have to go back and hit enter five dozen times per chapter Indenting is too much work, just double space it.

Auto filter is fine, I just let it do its business and the reader can figure it out. I rarely need to put words like [censored] or [censored] in my stories, but if I did I would let the censor do its job. Though if you don't like it then you can use synonyms.

(I'll get to the main critique down further, don't worry )



Those could very well be dialect changes. Are you, by any chance, a European, Syrus? If so then those spellings are perfectly alright.

Now then, on to the main critique I only have time to do the first chapter right now, but maybe later I'll hit the second. Thanks.

The first thing that hit me was grammar. Before I even start to really read your story these things are bothering me.



Some of it is a style thing, but most people would write it like this: The Imperial picked his way through the dense forest, wearing a stern expression, amplified by his furrowed brow and long scar that wound its way across the bridge of his nose and down his cheek. They're minor things, but they make a big difference for me. The main premise is that bolded part, using a dependent clause instead of another independent one. It helps the sentence flow better and keeps it from being run on. It's a subtle difference, and not technically even an error, but it was something I noticed. Some of the more grammar buff critics can tell you more

Before I get off grammar let me hit another stylistic thing. The way you write I can almost tell that you are fairly new at this (no offence), it doesn't have the same flowing grace that published authors have. That's not a bad thing, everyone starts out a beginner (I did the same thing), and it's something you can only fix with hours of reading and practice.



Her ears were flattened dejectedly, her head hung (or hanging) in shame. That's just one way to write it, you can express the same idea a hundred different ways. That's just how I would prefer to write it, I find it flows a little easier, but that's entirely your choice. Just read some real novels, and see if you don't find your style slowly changing.

Okay, I know I said I was done with grammar, but I have to get this one

Commas are used to indicate slight pauses in sentences. Not as long as periods, but longer than dashes (-). They have several unique jobs, but one thing you have to watch out for is overusing them. I know I used to do that all the time, but really you only need them in lists, with conjunctions to seperate two clauses, or to break up a statement (The young man, who was smiling happily, tossed the ball). Here it should just be "Dara-Ja said nothing." Though you might want to put a line between those two statements (hit enter, I mean), as it is Dara's response.

And again with the commas You don't need that comma, there is no pause there. It's a tricky business, but you'll get it eventually. One tip I have is to use proper grammar everywhere (especially in your posts here). Not only does it make you look more intelligent, but it keeps you from falling into bad habits.

Also, if you want someone to stutter (I don't, I don't know), use a dash. "I don't- I don't know". Or, even better, "I-I don't know". I love stutters, it gives a real message of fear, but they work much better with a dash than a comma.

Now, once and for all I'll leave the grammar alone, and focus on your story. I noticed what you meant by telling, and I feel for what you were trying to do, but that, my friend, is called info dumping (notice my commas not a one is out of place). Info dumping, if you haven't heard the term before, is when you tell a lot of back story in a short period, in a very obvious way. It tells your characters back story, sure, but it really doesn't serve a purpose. Something you can consistently notice with great stories is the mystery and intrigue behind the characters, and the sense of realism you get as you discover more of their past as you go along, always within context, or at least with a decent reason. I know it is something I strive to do, though I still have minor info dumps here and there, and if you can master it early you'll be well off.

Info dumping might seem like a good way to tell about your character, but something to keep in mind is to never underestimate the reader. People's interest is more intrigued by mystery and suspense than a story where they know everything from a single paragraph. Now, this is where "Show, don't tell" comes in. My favorite argument for this principle is that there is no advantage to telling that you can't achieve with showing. However, showing has major advantages over telling; the most prominent of which being suspense.

You want people to be eager to learn about your character's past. Stories take place halfway through the character's life. Few successful narratives have started at birth, and those just give a summary to info dump at the beginning (something I don't like, though some authors can do it in a way that is acceptable). So, your narrative is going to start between two events (which you have done an excellent job of building up suspense with the whole "What did she do?" thing), and your reader should be anxious to learn about what is going to happen next, and what has already happened before the story. You clearly know how to use mystery to create suspense (albeit in a haphazard way), now you just need to refine it and apply it to a greater spectrum.

A second part to "Show, don't tell" I always love to point out is in describing scenes and characters. Don't just describe your scene from a random point in space; the story is about your character, so you need to describe it from your character's view. It is a subtle method of characterization, and it is good for giving emotions. For example:



The sun twinkled in Dara's eyes... This is just a small example, but I prefer it to just describing the sun. It's a style choice, so it's your decision, but I recommend at least considering it.

Next you do a little trick called head hopping, when you jump from one character's point of view to another's. It is generally frowned upon, and I advise you to stick to one point of view from now on. It confuses the readers as to who the main focus is on, and can lead to some misplaced characterization. You want to stay with the same point of view throughout, if nothing else than for consistency's sake. It's like switching from first to third person all the sudden, it just feels wrong.

Again, I agree with Subrosa that you do a lot of telling. You say that the horses were dead, but we don't really see it. It reads more like a thought than a picture, and when you are describing a scene you want to paint a picture. Something like this, perhaps: Their prize Paint horse lie cold on the ground, its eyes glazed over, looking without seeing at the destruction before it.

Just a small, on the fly example, but it does paint a bit better picture than "...the horses lay slaughtered in their pens." I know you want the pace to remain correct for such a scene, but if he noticed it then it is worth describing. If you decide that that kind of description slows things down too much than you are better off not describing it at all.

However, with his wife and son he most certainly would pay attention, and the description should be crystal clear. Also, dialogue felt like it should have come after that, but that sounds like a style thing once more. I know the book I'm reading right now does something similar fairly often.

The last paragraph seems a little awkward, but I am not very experienced with combat scenes myself, so I'll just leave you with a "take a look at it". Also, for pacing's sake, split that paragraph up a bit.


All in all a decent story, good work :goodjob: It might sound like you have a long way to go, and this is because you do. Writing is not something to pick up just a hobby to do when you get bored with video games, it is something you have to devote endless hours of practice and study into. But anything worth doing requires effort, and if I said it was easy I'd be lying. It's fun, and you would be amazed how time flies, but you need to put in the effort if you want to see any results. However, I see some really good work here, your potential is endless, and I believe with all my heart that if you stick to it, you can become a really good writer

Thanks for writing, and keep up the good work!

The only thing I saw were a few of those common words that sound alike but are spelled differently; but aside from those your storyline is riveting and I can't wait to see where it is headed, especially with that dream. Awesome write!!


two vs to ("I give you the next to chapters.")

too vs to ("Not to bad.")

you're vs your (""Your right." He whispered, his voice barely registrable")

threw vs through ("Quickly he through his arms back")

I liked it. I think it could improve greatly if you'd invest some time in correcting punctuation.
Keep it up!


Even though I see your point, the thing is; "infodumping" doesn't create emotions nor does it create suspense. It's too cold, too dry for readers to get into the character.
I speak for all writers here, I think, when I say: Even though it's "only" a fan-fic, we take it a as serious as we would with a novel.

Another point is, a lot of people will read your first chapter to determine if they want to read the rest of your story. Your first chapter has to grab the interest of the reader. My first chapter has some bad info dumping in it, even after I re-wrote it. I know I lost a lot of potential readers from my first chapter.

I agree with RemkoNL also, just because it is a fanfic site, people still want to read something good. What you have here is an Awesome story, you have a great talent for writing and creating; so you want to showcase it as best as possible. Your first chapter is always your showcase.

I am not suggesting you re-write it, don't get me wrong; there was just a bit of info-dumping, but not too much. There is still a good story wrapped around it. I think it will stand as is and still draw readers. It is just something you may want to consider down the road if you are starting another fanfic some day.