Modifié par Woman Warden 118, 11 avril 2010 - 02:06 .
Plz read and tell me if its an ok start
Débuté par
Woman Warden 118
, avril 10 2010 12:37
#1
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 12:37
Woman Warden 118
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ok i have deleated what I originaly posted because I want to fix it
Retour en haut
#2
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 12:39
Woman Warden 118
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when it says Alistair and Ariana a tthe top. thats the title.......i spelt Ariana wrong its suposed to have 1 n
#3
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 12:47
KnightofPhoenix
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Paragraphs would be really nice.
#4
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 12:48
LadyDamodred
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Ooof, formatting. It is very difficult to read as a large block of text. Insert some spaces and I will take another look.
Edit: I knew you would say that, KoP. XD
Edit: I knew you would say that, KoP. XD
Modifié par LadyDamodred, 10 avril 2010 - 12:48 .
#5
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 01:16
Woman Warden 118
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and deleated it here too. when I fix it Ill post it
Modifié par Woman Warden 118, 11 avril 2010 - 02:07 .
#6
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 01:26
LadyDamodred
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Oh boy. Okay, I really, really do not mean to be ****y or anything, but please use the edit button. It makes things so much easier. Here, hopefully it should look something like this:
Dark spawn, everywhere. From my left, my right, my own shadow seemed to spawn the disgusting creatures. They were absolutely grotesque. Looking like walking corpses their skin decaying and slimy, slipping off their cheek bones. About ten feet from me was a short dark spawn, I think Duncan said they were called genlock. It was holding a twisted bow, it was obvious the dark spawn had made it, and I began to back up but stopped as I remembered I was standing in front of the lit beacon. Pain ripped up my throat as it let the arrow fly, crippling my air way. As I fell, choking on my own blood, I saw Alistair hit in the chest with a throwing knife. Blood shot out from the sides of the blade, coming straight from his veins. Concern ripped up my chest for the Templar I had only known for a few hours.
As I hit the ground I felt numbness and blackness envelope me in slumber, but I fought it off for a few more seconds to watch Alistair fall as well. The last thing I saw was Alistair, on the ground with a river of blood flowing out of his mouth and down the sides of his face and his neck. The last thing I felt was pain mixed with numbness, like when you don’t move your leg for too long and it falls asleep, and a shocking concern for the Templar Warden. I sifted off into the unconsciousness the pain brought with it, watching the dark spawn swarm on us…
My eyes flashed open and an unexpected light blinded my vision for a few seconds before my eyes adjusted. I looked around, expecting to see death and dark spawn, but instead I found myself in a small, shabby hut. It had tan walls with a dark brown roof of wood. There was a table that seemed to be handmade of tree wood, it was a sandy tan, and on its top rested my studded leather amour and my steel dagger, along with the Cousland family blade. There was a large pile of book to the right of the table; they all looked to be very ancient. My eyes rested on a black haired girl, her hair was done up in a twist, in feathered robes and a red shawl for a shirt. It was the girl from the wilds, it was Morrigan.
She had her back turned from me, facing a bookshelf and putting a large black tome that looked withered from time and many hands opening its ivory pages. “Morrigan?”I asked more confused than I’ve ever been before .How did I go from being over run by dark spawn in the tower of Ishald to being in a hut with a supposed which of the wilds? She turned to look at me with relieved eyes.
“Ah your eyes finally open, mother shall be pleased.”
“Err, yes…how did I get here? Where is Alistair?”
She looked confused “Do you not remember mothers rescue in the tower?” She asked.
“What are you talking about? All I remember is the dark spawn surrounding us, then I was hit with an arrow and passed out.” Then, as my memory started to come back I remembered probably the most important thing. “Wait. What happened to the king, the army?”
She looked slightly awkward as she answered, “The man that was to respond to your signal quit the field. Your friend, he is not taking it well.” Loghain, that treacherous bastard. No that’s not a good enough slander. That festering dark spawn slime. How could he? What stupidity claimed him?
“Did no one survive? Not even… a few solders.” I had meant to ask if Duncan had been seen or found or anything, but she wouldn’t know who he was.
“No body has been accounted for, not even you two. Mother and I are the only ones who know you and your friend are alive.” Not even Duncan? The man who saved me from the clutches of Arl Howe was dead? I felt tears warm my eyes. Even though I had only known him for about three days, I had grown very close to him. He had comforted me when we had to leave my parents half dead in Cousland Castle. Alistair, he must be torn apart. Oh crap, I need to go talk to him. He was extremely close to Duncan and the other wardens, I was positive. “Where is Alis- I mean my friend?”
“He is outside with mother; I forgot to tell you that she wanted to see you when you awoke.”
“Wait, were my injuries server?”
“Yes but I suspect you will be just fine, the dark spawn did nothing that mother could not heal.”
Well that was a relief. “What about Alistair’s?”
Yes he should be just fine.”
“Thank you for helping us Morrigan.” I said, truly grateful that, some how, she and her mother had known we would need their help. She looked stunned, for some reason I couldn’t understand.
“I…you are welcome. But mother did most of the work, I am no healer.”
“Well thank you all the same,” I said “and I guess I should go see your mother now.” I said, curious as to how her mother would explain her daring rescue. I stood up, for the first time realizing that I was only wearing my undergarments. I felt my cheeks warm considerably. I crossed the room to put on my amour and clip my weapons to the holder on my back, slinging my pack on before I crossed the room to the door leading outside.
When I walked out the first thing I saw was Morrigan’s mother by a fire pit, sitting on a log that was a part of a large ring of them around the pit. But I couldn’t look at her very long; I needed to see how Alistair was doing. I knew he could be dying on the inside. I saw him, standing by the small body of water that lead to a larger lake. He had his back turned to the house, looking out at the water, but when he heard the door open he turned around to see who had come out.
When he looked at me with his dark, chocolate brown eyes I saw the tears in them, the salt stains on his face. There was agony plain in his eyes. He looked so depressed that I felt a second round of tears in my eyes, but this time they pooled over my rims and spilled down my face. His pain was so evident on his face I couldn’t help but try to comfort him. “Alistair.” I whispered my voice breaking. His face strained as he watched my tears fall.
“Arianna, don’t cry.” He whispered, holding his hand out to me. My breath hitched and a sob escaped my lips as I quickly walked to him, taking his out stretched hand in my own. He held my hand tightly in his, and as I felt my cheeks warm for the second time I knew it was for a completely different reason. I suddenly realized why I felt so much crippling concern for Alistair in the tower. I had a crush on him. I had a crush on Alistair.
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled through the tears, trying to distract him from my bush.
“Don’t be, there’s no need to apologize.” He murmured, putting one arm around me and pressing my head to his chest. My heart speed off like a horse, beating so hard I didn’t know if he could feel it too. I was positive he was just trying to comfort me, there was no way he was romantically inclined toward me like I was to him. No way at all, but stupid human me was dumb enough to hope. “Thank the Maker, I thought you were dead for sure.” He said to me, actually sounding relieved I was still alive. This made my cheeks pink ever so slightly. I had never been much of a blusher, but this man was playing havoc with my heart.
“I’m still alive, thanks to Morrigan’s mother.” I said back, wondering what Morrigan’s mothers name actually was. I was getting wary of saying ‘Morrigan’s mother” all the time.
“This doesn’t seem real. If it wasn’t for Morrigan’s mother we would be dead right now.”
“Do not speak of me as if I am not here, lad.” I turned to look at Morrigan’s mother, now realizing that I had forgotten she was there. She had pretty, glossy hair, but it was tangled as though it hadn’t been brushed in forever, and pale skin, but it was hard to see it because she had a slight sun burn from living in the wilds for as long as she had. She seemed very old; maybe 80 or 85, but there seemed strength about her. She was wearing patchy robes of a yellow-red color that fit her curves quite well despite their shabbiness. Alistair looked up at her, seeming to forget she was there as well.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just you never told us your name.”
“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasid folk call me Flemeth, I suppose that will do.” She said to him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Flemeth? The Flemeth form the legions? Daveth was right, you are the witch of the wilds” He said, surprised. He looked at her now as if waiting for her to throw a poison spell at him or something. It was kinda funny; if she was going to kill us she wouldn’t have saved us from the dark spawn.
Dark spawn, everywhere. From my left, my right, my own shadow seemed to spawn the disgusting creatures. They were absolutely grotesque. Looking like walking corpses their skin decaying and slimy, slipping off their cheek bones. About ten feet from me was a short dark spawn, I think Duncan said they were called genlock. It was holding a twisted bow, it was obvious the dark spawn had made it, and I began to back up but stopped as I remembered I was standing in front of the lit beacon. Pain ripped up my throat as it let the arrow fly, crippling my air way. As I fell, choking on my own blood, I saw Alistair hit in the chest with a throwing knife. Blood shot out from the sides of the blade, coming straight from his veins. Concern ripped up my chest for the Templar I had only known for a few hours.
As I hit the ground I felt numbness and blackness envelope me in slumber, but I fought it off for a few more seconds to watch Alistair fall as well. The last thing I saw was Alistair, on the ground with a river of blood flowing out of his mouth and down the sides of his face and his neck. The last thing I felt was pain mixed with numbness, like when you don’t move your leg for too long and it falls asleep, and a shocking concern for the Templar Warden. I sifted off into the unconsciousness the pain brought with it, watching the dark spawn swarm on us…
My eyes flashed open and an unexpected light blinded my vision for a few seconds before my eyes adjusted. I looked around, expecting to see death and dark spawn, but instead I found myself in a small, shabby hut. It had tan walls with a dark brown roof of wood. There was a table that seemed to be handmade of tree wood, it was a sandy tan, and on its top rested my studded leather amour and my steel dagger, along with the Cousland family blade. There was a large pile of book to the right of the table; they all looked to be very ancient. My eyes rested on a black haired girl, her hair was done up in a twist, in feathered robes and a red shawl for a shirt. It was the girl from the wilds, it was Morrigan.
She had her back turned from me, facing a bookshelf and putting a large black tome that looked withered from time and many hands opening its ivory pages. “Morrigan?”I asked more confused than I’ve ever been before .How did I go from being over run by dark spawn in the tower of Ishald to being in a hut with a supposed which of the wilds? She turned to look at me with relieved eyes.
“Ah your eyes finally open, mother shall be pleased.”
“Err, yes…how did I get here? Where is Alistair?”
She looked confused “Do you not remember mothers rescue in the tower?” She asked.
“What are you talking about? All I remember is the dark spawn surrounding us, then I was hit with an arrow and passed out.” Then, as my memory started to come back I remembered probably the most important thing. “Wait. What happened to the king, the army?”
She looked slightly awkward as she answered, “The man that was to respond to your signal quit the field. Your friend, he is not taking it well.” Loghain, that treacherous bastard. No that’s not a good enough slander. That festering dark spawn slime. How could he? What stupidity claimed him?
“Did no one survive? Not even… a few solders.” I had meant to ask if Duncan had been seen or found or anything, but she wouldn’t know who he was.
“No body has been accounted for, not even you two. Mother and I are the only ones who know you and your friend are alive.” Not even Duncan? The man who saved me from the clutches of Arl Howe was dead? I felt tears warm my eyes. Even though I had only known him for about three days, I had grown very close to him. He had comforted me when we had to leave my parents half dead in Cousland Castle. Alistair, he must be torn apart. Oh crap, I need to go talk to him. He was extremely close to Duncan and the other wardens, I was positive. “Where is Alis- I mean my friend?”
“He is outside with mother; I forgot to tell you that she wanted to see you when you awoke.”
“Wait, were my injuries server?”
“Yes but I suspect you will be just fine, the dark spawn did nothing that mother could not heal.”
Well that was a relief. “What about Alistair’s?”
Yes he should be just fine.”
“Thank you for helping us Morrigan.” I said, truly grateful that, some how, she and her mother had known we would need their help. She looked stunned, for some reason I couldn’t understand.
“I…you are welcome. But mother did most of the work, I am no healer.”
“Well thank you all the same,” I said “and I guess I should go see your mother now.” I said, curious as to how her mother would explain her daring rescue. I stood up, for the first time realizing that I was only wearing my undergarments. I felt my cheeks warm considerably. I crossed the room to put on my amour and clip my weapons to the holder on my back, slinging my pack on before I crossed the room to the door leading outside.
When I walked out the first thing I saw was Morrigan’s mother by a fire pit, sitting on a log that was a part of a large ring of them around the pit. But I couldn’t look at her very long; I needed to see how Alistair was doing. I knew he could be dying on the inside. I saw him, standing by the small body of water that lead to a larger lake. He had his back turned to the house, looking out at the water, but when he heard the door open he turned around to see who had come out.
When he looked at me with his dark, chocolate brown eyes I saw the tears in them, the salt stains on his face. There was agony plain in his eyes. He looked so depressed that I felt a second round of tears in my eyes, but this time they pooled over my rims and spilled down my face. His pain was so evident on his face I couldn’t help but try to comfort him. “Alistair.” I whispered my voice breaking. His face strained as he watched my tears fall.
“Arianna, don’t cry.” He whispered, holding his hand out to me. My breath hitched and a sob escaped my lips as I quickly walked to him, taking his out stretched hand in my own. He held my hand tightly in his, and as I felt my cheeks warm for the second time I knew it was for a completely different reason. I suddenly realized why I felt so much crippling concern for Alistair in the tower. I had a crush on him. I had a crush on Alistair.
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled through the tears, trying to distract him from my bush.
“Don’t be, there’s no need to apologize.” He murmured, putting one arm around me and pressing my head to his chest. My heart speed off like a horse, beating so hard I didn’t know if he could feel it too. I was positive he was just trying to comfort me, there was no way he was romantically inclined toward me like I was to him. No way at all, but stupid human me was dumb enough to hope. “Thank the Maker, I thought you were dead for sure.” He said to me, actually sounding relieved I was still alive. This made my cheeks pink ever so slightly. I had never been much of a blusher, but this man was playing havoc with my heart.
“I’m still alive, thanks to Morrigan’s mother.” I said back, wondering what Morrigan’s mothers name actually was. I was getting wary of saying ‘Morrigan’s mother” all the time.
“This doesn’t seem real. If it wasn’t for Morrigan’s mother we would be dead right now.”
“Do not speak of me as if I am not here, lad.” I turned to look at Morrigan’s mother, now realizing that I had forgotten she was there. She had pretty, glossy hair, but it was tangled as though it hadn’t been brushed in forever, and pale skin, but it was hard to see it because she had a slight sun burn from living in the wilds for as long as she had. She seemed very old; maybe 80 or 85, but there seemed strength about her. She was wearing patchy robes of a yellow-red color that fit her curves quite well despite their shabbiness. Alistair looked up at her, seeming to forget she was there as well.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just you never told us your name.”
“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasid folk call me Flemeth, I suppose that will do.” She said to him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Flemeth? The Flemeth form the legions? Daveth was right, you are the witch of the wilds” He said, surprised. He looked at her now as if waiting for her to throw a poison spell at him or something. It was kinda funny; if she was going to kill us she wouldn’t have saved us from the dark spawn.
#7
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 01:30
Woman Warden 118
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im sorry i know there are a lot of errors but plz ignor them, lol
Modifié par Woman Warden 118, 11 avril 2010 - 02:08 .
#8
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 01:36
LadyDamodred
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*runs a hand through her hair* I meant use the edit button to fix formatting errors so you don't have to repost.
Also, errors make things more difficult to read. If your reader has to sit and struggle to try and figure out what you are saying, it will markedly decrease their enjoyment of your story. I'ma switch to pm, if you don't mind. It'll be easier to collect my thoughts and let us have an actual dialogue.
Also, errors make things more difficult to read. If your reader has to sit and struggle to try and figure out what you are saying, it will markedly decrease their enjoyment of your story. I'ma switch to pm, if you don't mind. It'll be easier to collect my thoughts and let us have an actual dialogue.
#9
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 01:39
Woman Warden 118
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ok as im sure your aware I am a compleate ar-****** and need to go fix my entire story, I will post the first chapter after I fix it. I dont expect you to read it because of what I've put here but Ill post it any way. goog bye.
sorry
sorry
Modifié par Woman Warden 118, 10 avril 2010 - 01:40 .
#10
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 10:15
Woman Warden 118
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Please dont read this and dont let this trash I wrote judje any other work I write,thank you
#11
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 10:42
hexaligned
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Well.... if you enjoy writing keep at it. I'll be nice and leave the structure of your writing alone. However I find it odd you would take a scene from the game and pretty much just recreate it word for word. Don't get me wrong, fanfic is an odd creature to begin with, and what you did isn't that big of a stretch. Most people at least come up with original events though. But hey, don't write for anyone but yourself, if that's what you enjoy doing, more power to ya. I wouldn't have commented at all but you asked for feedback.
Edit: ok, I didn't see your last post, ignore me. It isn't trash though, the effort alone has value, being a good writer isn't something you just wake up one day being able to do, everyone starts out somewhere, if you enjoy it keep at it, you will just get better and better and enjoy it more and more (or learn to hate it) the more you do.
Edit: ok, I didn't see your last post, ignore me. It isn't trash though, the effort alone has value, being a good writer isn't something you just wake up one day being able to do, everyone starts out somewhere, if you enjoy it keep at it, you will just get better and better and enjoy it more and more (or learn to hate it) the more you do.
Modifié par relhart, 10 avril 2010 - 10:53 .
#12
Posté 10 avril 2010 - 10:48
LadyDamodred
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It can be fine to recreate a scene, as long as the dialogue is not the focus. I've done that with a couple things, and while the dialogue is there, most of the focus is on character's thoughts and emotions. It can be a very good way of showing how the npcs feel, since you never get to play from their perspective, and everyone has different ideas on how to rp the characters.
A lot of fanfic deals with retelling the story, which is totally fine, imo. I find I like a mix of in-game + original events for story retellings. If she wants to do that, more power to her.
A lot of fanfic deals with retelling the story, which is totally fine, imo. I find I like a mix of in-game + original events for story retellings. If she wants to do that, more power to her.
