(Act/Fan) The Weapon of Alranma [M]

I really need constructive criticism on this piece. I plan to make it much darker, bloodier, whatever, so it'd be nice if people could help me on my way to making a decent fantasy story. And yes, I know it's short. >_>
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Prologue

Jonathon Varr sat in a large, red-cushioned, golden-armed chair, perpendicular to the large oak desk that lay in front of him, the reflection of the sun bouncing off of his bald head through the single window in the King’s chamber. He twirled his long, bushy mustache, looking over the civilian complaints; mostly about the thief problem. Many houses had been robbed over the past few weeks, and yet the culprit hadn’t been caught. He had been running free, among them. Although, everyone had their suspicions. The one person that loomed up in everyone’s mind when hearing of the robbery’s, all pointed to the same person.

~~~~~~~~~

Laryn Windfoot sat against the castle tower wall, the dark gray blocks emitted a cool feeling in the hot afternoon sun. He had his brown cloak pulled around his body, the hood pulled over his head, covering his long, white hair. It was a good idea, he knew that with the recent robberies he had committed, the people would suspect him, the only pure-blooded elf in the town of Arian, one of the few in the country of Cai’leros. The pure-blooded elves always had a history of thieving, lining back to the early ages of 1300. He headed towards the town square, to see if there was anything worth taking for the forthcoming night, seeing as he hadn’t been caught yet.

The peasants were doing their daily work, tending to the plants in the castle garden. The smell of burning materials coming from the blacksmith’s building, black smoke bellowing in the air from the chimney, but yet, Laryn knew something wasn’t right. He stood up quickly, brushing the dirt from the black of his cloak, some large clods being crushed underneath his worn boots.

Suddenly, both of his arms were grabbed from behind. He looked back, it was two of the King’s men, dressed in full armor.

"Come," they said. Laryn was sure it was for interrogation of the recent crimes. The city had been cracking down as rumors of a war with neighboring country Lural had hurredly been passed throughout the town. It was all the talk of the local snooty, ladies, dressed in their best dresses, as they were dressed everyday, as if to rub it in the peasants’ faces. All the peasants lived on the west side of town, with dirt roads, and very small houses. And on the east side, lived the wealthy. Large, lavish buildings, paved streets, horse-led carriages, and a social gathering building. In the middle of the town was the King’s Castle, the centerpiece of the town. The second biggest building in the world, next to the Grand Church, which was quite a few miles away, but still in the boundaries of Cai’leros. Also in the middle of the town was the town square. Shops lined all sides; it was often crowded, as it was the only form of business, the only way to get goods aside from costly imports.

As Laryn and the two guards made their way down the solitary street that led to the castle from the town square, a few small children poked their heads out of the houses that lined the road, seeing what was going on, as it wasn’t often anything happened around the castle, with the exception of guards doing their daily patrol of the town.

They approached the castle. The two entrance guards murmured something to the guards that currently held Laryn, and they continued on, as the two large oak doors were opened for them. Through the door was the main room, which was lined with many jewels, the walls lined with crimson red paint, the floor tiles covered with black carpet, and a large red rug lay in front of the grand staircase. It was gold, with marble steps, covered by red carpet, going up to the back wall, then splitting into two different directions.

"Ah, Laryn," said the medium height, bald, mustached man that stood in the middle of the room.

"Jonathon," replied the cloaked elf. "We meet again. Funny how times change." He smirked, wrinkles lining his tan skin. Lord Varr gave a low grunt, then turned around making his way towards the steps.

"Follow," he muttered, motioning to the guards to release Laryn. They walked up a staircase, and through a couple more large rooms, before coming to another guarded oak door. The guards quickly opened it, and followed the King and Laryn inside what looked to be the King’s Chamber. "Sit," said the King, and Laryn sat down in a cushioned chair opposite of Lord Varron’s throne.

"So, you’ve heard," said Laryn, knowing what Lord Varron expecting from him.

"Yes, yes. Many complaints. Just how many houses have you robbed?"

Laryn gave a small laugh. "I don’t know, quite a few. I’m surprised your guards haven’t caught me in the act yet. They don’t run night patrol?"

"They do, but only a couple per section of the city, that’s only 6. We just learned of the robberies earlier today, as we only accept civilian complain letters once a week. Of course, most of them were about the recent robberies."

"How did you know it was me?"

"How else? It’s always been you, you have a record of thieving, and a large, not to mention growing, crime file. This is a good town; we don’t have many crimes. With your heritage, and your record, what do you think would make us think that it wasn’t you?"

Laryn sighed. Lord Varr was right. "So, what are you going to do to me."

"Something different," Lord Varr replied softly. "You see, there’s a weapon. A weapon that has been well hidden. No one has ever found it; there’s no proof it even exists. But I want you to find it, find it before the mercenaries hired by the King of Lural do. If they find it before us, the entire country is at risked of being destroyed. You’ve heard the rumors, right?"

Laryn looked at him, "You mean the ones about Lural raging war on Cai’leros?" He raised an eyebrow. "Those…are true?"

"Correct."

"But why should I help you. You’ve done nothing for me since our childhood together. You went one way, I went the other, and here I am robbing houses for food, with no money."

"Aha," said Lord Varr. "Should you succeed.." He reached down, pulling out a dark bag made of cloth, tied together with rope. He opened it, showing it to Laryn. Laryn’s eyes glistened from the reflection.

"How…how much is it?" asked Laryn, his eyes widening in interest.

"More than you will ever need to live the rest of your life. You’re leaving tomorrow morning. I’ve lined up a couple of other criminals to help you. You’ll be meeting them at the town borders tomorrow. As for now, feel free to rest in the castle for tonight."

Very well done dude, I didn't know you had such a talent for writing. Man you and me are more alike than I thought

Though, you want constructive criticism *I'd give it even if you didn't* and I did sniff out a couple things that weren't the best

Jonathon Varron sat in a large, red-cushioned, golden-armed chair, perpendicular to the large oak desk that lay in front of him, the reflection of the sun bouncing off of his bald head through the single window in the King’s chamber. He twirled his long, bushy mustache, looking over the civilian complaints; mostly about the thief problem. Many houses had been robbed over the past few weeks, and yet the culprit hadn’t been caught. He had been running free, among them. Although, everyone had their suspicions. The one person that loomed up in everyone’s mind when hearing of the robbery’s, all pointed to the same person.

Laryn Windfoot sat against the castle tower wall, the dark gray blocks emitted a cool feeling in the hot afternoon sun. He had his brown cloak pulled around his body, the hood pulled over his head, covering his long, white hair. It was a good idea, he knew that with the recent robberies he had committed, the people would suspect him, the only pure-blooded elf in the town of Arian, one of the few in the country of Cai’leros. The pure-blooded elves always had a history of thieving, lining back to the early ages of 1300. He headed towards the town square, to see if there was anything worth taking for the forthcoming night, seeing as he hadn’t been caught yet.

There should be at least one more line of spacing between the paragraphs, to signify a change in the setting or location. You don't have to do this, but as you may know, I always use the- * * * * * - separation, and I've also used one big line by pressing the underscore button and holding it, as well as this- ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ -

He stood up quickly, brushing the dirt from the black of his cloak, some large chunks of dirt being crushed underneath his worn boots.

The second use of 'dirt' sounds funny when reading it, as it isn't even separated from the other word by a sentence. I would've instead wrote-

"He stood up quickly, brushing the dirt from the black of his cloak, some large chunks of it being crushed underneath his worn boots."

Shops lined all sides; it was often crowded.

While I commend for you using the semi-colon, as most writer's would've incorrectly not use it, the sentence seems tacked on, a lil more description would've made it flow better to the reader.

As Laryn and the two guards made their way down the solitary street that led to the castle from the town square, a few small children poked their heads out of the houses that lined the same solitary street, seeing what was going on, as it wasn’t often anything happened around the castle, with the exception of guards doing their daily patrol of the town.

This is similar to the dirt thing. Using the same word so close together isn't always bad, but because 'solitary' is a slightly more advanced word, and will stand out more than others when read, it sounds funny to have it be repeated, and then have 'street' be repeated too. I'd say a differnt word like 'lone' or 'sole' would've fit better.


All in all though, good job, I'd like to see more. Thanks for posting a good fic other than mine around here :razz:

Thanks much. It's not my best, I put that together in about 10 minutes, it's my style of writing. I like to make up stuff. >_>. Though, most of the time, I'll write the beginning and stop, I'll try to keep going with this one.
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Chapter 1 - 1

Laryn woke up early in his sleep, before the sun crested over the nearby mountain range that separated part of the border between Cai’leros and Lural. He had been given no clues on where to start searching for this so-called ‘weapon’ that Lord Varr had talked about the previous night. He sat up in his bed, pondering, as his fingers stroked his chin. Within seconds, Lord Varr had opened the door, bringing in two others: A tall, lanky girl, with large, dark eyes and waste length brown hair that was pulled into a ponytail, and a large, tan male, with muscles bulging, a vein slightly protruding from his bald head.

"Laryn." Lord Varr shot. "These will be your counterparts, Ms. Kate Vance, and…him," he pointed at the large man.

"Mar." the man bellowed, clearly annoyed and impatient.

"So," said the King, "I suppose you lot want to know where you should start looking." He shot a glance at all three of them. He lifted his finger, and pointed out the window. "There, in the mountains. Should you fail to find it, you will report to me, immediately. Should you not move in haste, it will cost you your lives. Hell, it will cost the entire country their own as well."

The three looked at each other. "What the hell are you waiting for?" demanded Lord Varr. "Go! Now!" Laryn quickly gathered his small sack of belongings and followed his two new acquaintances out of the doorway.

"So," Laryn managed to mutter, as 3 guards escorted the three towards town borders. "I don’t supposed you guys talk much."

"Heh, you wait," responded Kate, in a happy-go-lucky kind of voice, as Mar let out a low grunt. "I’m really a talker," she said, almost sarcastically. After a couple of minutes of walking, they reached the front boundary of the city, at the end of the long road that led from the castle, ending with an abrupt wooden sign that said, Welcome to Arian, capital city of the country of Cai’leros.

The Guards almost shoved them out in front of the sign. "Go!" one of them shouted, acknowledging that he would be reporting to Lord Varr. They started walking at a faster pace, the shadow of the mountain casting shade upon their face, as the newly risen sun glared right behind it.

"So," Laryn blandly repeated. "What were you two in trouble for?"

"Murder," grunted Mar. "Ignorant punk tries to pick fight with Mar, blacksmith’s apprentice? Mar does not think so. Punk got what punk deserves." Kate blinked, raising an eyebrow, and Laryn scuffed.

"I’d rather not talk about it, right now," replied Kate, her large, bowl-like eyes scanning the ground. "What about yourself, uh, Larry…?"

"It’s Laryn. You know the robberies that have going on lately?"

"Oh." Katie seemed disappointed, as though she expected something worse. "How long until we make it to the mountain?"

"One hour," replied Mar, sweat beading his blackened forehead, obviously from working at the blacksmith. "One hour, we arrive at base of the mountain. Mar is good with traveling. Mar was a traveler before…before Master took me in."

"Interesting," mumbled Kate, who now adjusted the patched blue robe she was wearing to reveal a sheath that carried a long sword.

"What is that for?" questioned Laryn.

"Oh, this?" She unsheathed her sword. "It’s a sword. Lord Varr picked it up from the blacksmith for me, specifically made for this assignment."

"Yeah, but what for?" Laryn repeated curiously.

"You think this is going to be a walk in the park? Haven’t you been out in the plains of Cai’leros? There’s wild things out here, dogs, wolves, large birds, even…" she shuddered, "trolls!"

Laryn slowed down quickly. "Trolls? I heard they were only legend. Are you su-.."

"Mar has seen many. Colonies of trolls," Mar said. "They are very large…very hard to defeat. They feel like bricks when you punch them."

"Then how come you don’t have a weapon?" Laryn asked. Mar punched his right fist into the palm of his right hand, with an almost thundering impact. "Ah…I see. But then, how come Lord Varr didn’t.."

"Check your bag," replied Kate. Laryn untied the sack that was attached to his pants, and opened it up to reveal two weapons, a short dagger, and a long sword, one similar to that of Kate’s. "See, I told you!" she said happily.

They kept walking, silent, as the sun began to crawl out into the open field, the intense heat average for this time of the year. Kate started to sing to herself, as the mountain loomed ever closer. She abruptly stopped. "What if…" she said, "what if, this thing does exist?"

"It does," replied Mar. "It is always talk of master, it is his dream to see weapon, to work on it, use it. But Mar doesn’t know what it looks like, what it does, but Mar does know, Mar knows the destruction it causes. Many die, according to legend. Damage is irreversible. World ends."

"But," said Laryn, "then why would Lord Varr say that no one is sure that it exists?"

"King Varr is naïve. He does not listen to military advisors, or read. It exists. Mar knows." Kate rolled her eyes almost in disbelief of Mar’s story. She started to speak, only to be interrupted by Laryn.

"I believe him," he said to Kate, almost sure of what she was going to say. "Maybe Varr does know, maybe he wanted it to seem more of a punishment. I know he knows it exists, it has to, if Lural has already sent mercenaries after it. If we don’t find it, that means Lural has it. Why would Varr want it, though? I mean, surely he doesn’t want to wage war against Lural."

"He just wants to keep it from them, I would assume," said Kate, as large rocks started to surround them.

"Stop," said Mar. His long arm extended to prevent Kate and Laryn from moving any farther. "Mar senses them. Trolls. We go a different direction." Mar turned as if to go the other way, only to run into a large, green leg.

A large, green creature, with a blond streak of hair on top of its ugly head, reared before them, its large mouth taking in air. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, drips of drool occasionally dropping to the ground. It held a large club, as large as the seven foot Mar, but twice as wide.

"Troll."

Well done again, a fun read. There's only two things I'd like to nit-pick on

Laryn woke up early in his sleep, before the sun crested over the nearby mountain range that separated part of the border between Cai’leros and Lural. He had been given no clues on where to start searching for this so-called ‘weapon’ that Lord Varr had talked about the previous night. He sat up in his bed, pondering, as his fingers stroked his chin. Within seconds, Lord Varr had opened the door, bringing in two others: A tall, lanky girl, with large, dark eyes and waste length brown hair that was pulled into a ponytail, and a large, tan male, with muscles bulging, a vein slightly protruding from his bald head.

"Laryn." Lord Varr shot. "These will be your counterparts, Ms. Kate Vance, and…him," he pointed at the large man.

"Mar." the man bellowed, clearly annoyed and impatient.

"So," said the King, "I suppose you lot want to know where you should start looking." He shot a glance at all three of them. He lifted his finger, and pointed out the window. "There, in the mountains. Should you fail to find it, you will report to me, immediately. Should you not move in haste, it will cost you your lives. Hell, it will cost the entire country their own as well."

The three looked at each other. "What the hell are you waiting for?" demanded Lord Varr. "Go! Now!" Laryn quickly gathered his small sack of belongings and followed his two new acquaintances out of the doorway.

This entire part almost seems rushed. I would've made some more dialogue for the fact that they're getting ready for a big adventure, notably for Laryn.

"Murder," grunted Mar. "Ignorant punk tries to pick fight with Mar, blacksmith’s apprentice?

While Mar obviously has a simplistic sense of vocabulary and speaking, I don't think that question mark is meant to be there.


Continue on, and hurry it up, I want something good to read