Dungeon

This chapter was the original beginning to "A Brother's Curse". I think it sucks, and I'm sure you would too. For both our sakes, please go to the next chapter--my new beginning, titled "Dale".

The moment the floor gave way he jumped.

 Only his quick reflexes, and his previous experience with traps, had kept him from falling into the spiked pit. It had been well hidden. He had barely avoided it, having noticed a tile slightly out of place as he had approached. 

 The rogue peered into the pit. Within he saw the decaying bodies of those who had fallen victim to the trap.

 Dale smirked. ‘That would have hurt.’ 

 He continued on down the hall. There would be more traps to come, and they were not going to become any easier to avoid. 

 Dale Stormblade had come to the dungeon mostly out of curiosity and a desire to test his skills. Although he had heard of great treasures deep within the tomb, and could use a bit more gold, his true motivation was the chance to challenge himself. 

 The rumour of the ancient tomb being cursed did not bother Dale. Nor had it changed his mind about adventuring alone. Dale had never been fond of company. They got in the way, there were arguments and the treasure would have to be shared. After all, isn’t that why he left his old adventuring company? 

 He knew it wasn’t, but it was better to lie to himself than to think on the real reasons. 

 Torches were placed at regular intervals of the passage, giving off enough light that he was confident would not miss any traps.

 He came upon a wooden door at the end of the hall, and having no other way to go, decided he would go through. The door creaked eerily as he opened it. Inside was only darkness. 

 Dale retreated back a few steps and took a torch out of its sconce. He then entered the room.  

 The chamber stunk of death and decay. Dale drew his rapier and proceeded with caution. He reached what he thought to be the centre of the room and stopped. The torch made it hard to see further than a few feet but it was better than nothing.

 He heard a low groan and turned. As Dale’s eyes locked with those of the dead creature, it pounced. 

 It grabbed at his left arm, attempting to knock the torch out of it. Dale jumped back, barely avoiding its attack. He jabbed at the creature with his rapier, piercing its body to no avail. It continued its advance and Dale was forced to retreat back a step. 

 Dale had been ready to strike again when he was grabbed from behind. The second dead man pulled at his arm with its cold hands, and the torch spilled out from his grasp.

 He spun around, stabbing the creature through the skull. It fell to the floor with a thump, and Dale rolled as the other one lunged at him. Coming up behind the creature, he put his sword through its head.

 The light was fading fast. 

 Dale heard the scrape of a limp foot dragging across the floor behind him, and readied his rapier.

 There were four of them. They had been approaching slowly, but when Dale saw them they charged.

 He avoided several blows but was not able to dodge them all. One creature hit Dale and slammed him into the ground. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being grabbed. 

 He pushed himself up. He drew his shortsword and lunged toward his undead foes. His first swing made no contact, but he pressed the attack with his rapier. His blade pierced one of the things through the chest.  He jumped back at it collapsed. 

 Once more the monsters attacked. He managed to avoid one of them, but felt the cold touch of two pulling at his arms, as they tried to rip through his flesh. 

 Dale used all his strength to sidestep as one of the creatures attempted to bite, and they fell to the floor, unable to stop themselves. Immediately he was on top of the two. He drove his blades into their heads, killing them both.

 The light had almost gone out. 

 He heard the scream of the last undead, and rolled to his side, leaving both swords in the bodies of the creatures he had killed. Once he was far enough past the last dead man, he pulled out his crossbow, dropped to one knee, levelled the weapon, and waited. 

 The light went out.

 A moment later he heard the beast scream as it rushed toward him. Dale fired. 

 He could tell from the sound of the body crashing to the floor that his bolt had struck true.

 The room was silent. 

 Dale stood up and brushed the dust off his cloak and wiped the blood off of his black gloves onto his pants.

 He reached into his pack and pulled out a lantern which he unhooded and lit. He then collected the blades he had left impaled in the undead and reloaded his crossbow. After the raid, Dale had always pre-loaded his crossbow and sworn that he would never go underarmed again. 

 He surveyed the carnage. Six dead bodies. Hopefully they would stay dead this time. Dale put his blades through each of their hearts and heads, just to be sure. 

 Dale had a quick look around for a door to go through, and found none. Not even the door he had come through. 

 The way back had been sealed. 

For a time Dale sat in the centre of the room, pondering his situation.  He knew that getting out of this dungeon would not be easy. He didn’t mind though. If anything it gave a sense of survival to his adventure, which he would enjoy. 

 He was well prepared, and had not planned on going back to Darkstar until after he had explored the ruined crypt. Being trapped was all right, as long as he could find a way out eventually. He had a week worth of trail rations, as well as some pre-cooked bacon which he always carried with him. Dale loved bacon, but then again, who didn’t? He also had three water skins in his pack, easily enough to last a week if he were to ration it well. But if he was in the tomb more than a week, he could be in trouble. 

 Dale stood up and walked over to the far wall, and started searching for a panel to push, or some concealed button. Eventually he found a slit with a switch. He went to activate it, but hesitated. He decided against it for now, wanting to search the rest of the room.

 On the left wall he found a small panel that could be pushed in, and activated it, having a hunch that he should start there. As the panel moved into the wall he heard a small click, and the wall swung forward loudly.

 The secret room was dimly lit, but Dale could see well with his lantern in hand. A small walkway led to a podium in the centre of the room, where each wall would be only an arm’s reach away.

 He began to walk toward it.

 The wall shut but he paid no heed. This felt right. Yes. He felt this was where he should be. All other thoughts and motives were forgotten. He no longer wanted to be here. He had to be here. He did not know why nor did he care. All that now mattered was that he be here.

 As he stood on the heightened stone, his lantern went out, and the room went black.

 Time passed and the dim light returned. The walls had moved back slightly, and there were now weapons and supplies held against the walls. Anything an adventurer could want was now in the room. From swords -both long and short- to quarterstaffs, from backpacks to torches, it was all there. Dale stood admiring it all, only an arms reach away. 

 He snapped out of his trance and became aware of himself again.    

 Looking down he discovered that the floor was gone.

 Dale jumped, almost falling into the abyss. He regained his footing and closed his eyes, calming himself. When he opened his eyes, he peered into the pit. It appeared to go down forever.

 Dale looked up and noticed a gap where no weapons or gear were on the wall. On it, written in blood, were two words. 

 Take three, it read.

 Dale put his lantern away, and proceeded to do so. He found the gap between the podium and the wall to be larger than he had first thought, and had to carefully lean over to get what he wanted. Dale reached over and grabbed a magnificent rapier.

 It was one of the most beautiful weapons he had ever seen. He would almost feel bad getting the blood of his enemies on it. However, it could never replace his first blade, long lost to him. He placed it down on the podium and put his foot on it. 

 He was standing upright on the podium again when it shook mildly.  He managed to keep his footing on it, but worried that should it shake more he’d might fall off.  

 ‘Okay,’ he said to himself, ‘only three. I’m guessing this falls away from under my feet once I have them.’ He paused. ‘Maybe if I…   Yeah, that could work.’

 Next, Dale took a fine shortsword that he was more than happy to replace with his old one. The podium shook again, this time more violently, but Dale had known it would happen and had been prepared. He had no trouble keeping his balance. He put the shortsword down with the his new rapier. 

 Dale stood straight on the podium, holding both his old weapons outward toward the walls. The rapier and the shortsword touched the wall with ease. He hooked the rapier under the strap of a nice bag, and the shortsword underneath a small iron rod he had spotted. There was something about it that he liked, but he couldn’t say what exactly.

 When he was ready he flicked both weapons upwards, sending the bag and the rod into the air. Dale dropped both of his old weapons, caught the rod in his left hand and the bag in his right. 

 The podium crumpled. 

 Dale’s feet fell out from under him and he plummeted into the darkness. The wall must have curved at some point, because he found himself with his back against it, no longer falling downward, but sliding horizontally. Soon the wall was no longer stone like it had been above, but became a well crafted metal shoot that he slid along with ease.

 The next thing Dale knew he was in pain and disorientated on the floor. Every part of his body ached, and he felt as if his head would explode. Eventually he found the strength to sit up and look around. He was in a large room with a door to the left and a hole in the wall behind him. 

 He lay back down again and decided to give his body some rest. He was out within seconds. 

The warrior kneels in front of King Elias, as he officially becomes a knight of the kingdom. 

 He gets up and embraces his king. It is not proper but Elias allows it. After all, protocol can’t always be kept, especially in moments such as these.

 ‘Father, thank you,’ the new knight says as he breaks the hug. 

 ‘You have shown yourself worthy, son,’ Elias tells him, ‘You’ve made me a very proud man.’ 

 A tear falls down the young man’s face as he stands tall with pride. 

 Speaking to the crowd behind, the king raises his voice as he says,  ‘Behold the kingdom’s newest knight, my own son, Calis Aronson!’ 

 The crowd erupts in applause as their king lifts his son’s hand up in the air.

 The crowd quietens and the prince begins to speak. ‘I will not fail you. While I may not know all of you personally, we are one kingdom, united! We share a common purpose, and as long as that remains we shall have peace! I will serve diligently. I will bring pride and honour to my father’s house,’ he pauses for a moment and the crowd becomes silent. ‘And I will bring pride and honour to the kingdom!’ The people erupt in applause once more. 

 ‘Long live the King!’ he yells. ‘Long last Prosperity!’ 

 The crowd echoes the words back.

 The king steps forward as the shouts eventually die out. ‘I propose a feast in honour of my firstborn. May it be a merry night in the kingdom! Bring out the tables, the meat and the mead!’

 Again the crowd bursts into cheering.

 Elias turns back to Calis and puts his hands on his son’s shoulders. ‘Go find your friends. No doubt they would wish to congratulate you.  But I would have you sit with your mother and I at the feast,’ he tells him. ‘We have other business to announce and I would have you close at hand when it is done.’

 ‘Yes father,’ Calis tells his king. ‘I will be there.’

 Calis runs off to find his friends as Elias watches, beaming with pride for his son.

 His wife comes over to him and he puts an arm around her. ‘He will make a great king someday,’ he says.

 ‘You’re worried for his brother though aren’t you?’ she asks.

 ‘Yes,’ he admits, ‘I worry that he grows jealous.’ Elias looks the girl he has loved for over twenty years in the eyes. ‘He wasn’t here was he?’

 ‘No,’ she says. 

 He ponders on this for a moment. ‘I’ll talk to him.’

 Elias kisses his wife and departs to find David, praying that he is okay.

The mood is jolly in the gathering hall and the people are merry from the ale. 

 Calis sits near his father at the head of the table, as promised. 

 Elias does not need to tell Calis to avoid drink, as his son has never had a taste for it. He prefers the clear thoughts that come from being sober. He is still on his first glass. 

 The sun has set and the feast has been going on for a time now. New food is continually brought out and glasses of ale and wine are refilled regularly. 

 The king has seen his second son, David, as he said he would. David told his father that he was feeling unwell and apologised for missing the knighting ceremony. He promised that if he was feeling better later in the evening he would come down for the celebrations. He has not come yet. 

 The night passes on smoothly with no real dramas. A few men have to be escorted out for various reasons, but nothing major occurs. 

 Few at the nobility table notice that King Elias has been avoiding drink as much as possible. The few that do notice speculate on what is to come. 

 Later into the night Elias stands up and walks to the stage where the musicians have been playing. Calis follows. 

 The king mounts the stage and signals for the musicians to stop. The performers stop immediately but it takes a few minutes for the room to become silent. 

 ‘My humble subjects,’ the king starts. ‘Today is a grand day in the Kingdom of Prosperity! Indeed, today we do prosper!’ The crowd shouts approval at this. 

 ‘Today my firstborn, Calis, was tested, as such are the ways of old, and found worthy of becoming a knight of the kingdom,’ the king says to his people. 

 Elias puts his hand on his son’s shoulder as he prepares to shock his entire kingdom. ‘But today is not just the day that he becomes a knight. Today-’

Dale bolted up from his sleep as if he had had a nightmare.

Author's Note

It sucks, so please refer to the description at the top of the page.

Reviews

[M. V. Marguerite]

Hello!
First thing first, I love the names. Dale, Elias, Calis, they're super unique and I think they're great and help your story stand out.
I don't think your characters, though, have much character (haha). They don't really have any unique traits that make me think, "huh, I know someone like that!" or make me want to ponder him further. I find it hard to do short pieces of writing too.
I also think the fighting scene was too long, but I enjoyed the interactions between the royal family and the cliff hanger!

[Chivalry]

Thank you :) About them not having much character, I believe that I have expanded on that in later chapters. I've started to give them flaws and such, but this doesn't really show in this first chapter. And I find it interesting that you say the fight scene is too long, because when I wrote it the first time, I thought it was too short :D Thank you for pointing that out though, and I hope you read on! :)

[Chivalry]

Man this is terrible. Now that's saying something, since I wrote it!

[Nusquam Esse]

Alright, this is a good start; especially for someone your age. Some of my criticisms from here on may seem harsh; but don't take them personal. You are still at an age where you are developing your writing. There are NO amazing writers your age; even the naturals take several more years to develop technique. Some of the best wine takes years to develop, to take the sour tastes of tannins and acids, and converting them into a deep palette of taste. As long as you continue to write, to apply yourself, and to take criticism constructively (don't take it blindly though; really think about 'why' you should; if nothing else, consider the quality of writing from the person who is telling you. If they are a better writer; they probably are better because of that advice... some of which took them years to really understand; so definitely consider it. If however, they are mediocre writers, they are just stealing ideas from other people; they likely don't 'understand' or 'feel' WHY it is a 'rule'. As Pablo Picasso put it, you have to learn the rules, so that you can break them like a master.) you should find your own voice and technique within a few years, and a few years later you will begin to experience a complete evolution of yourself, that will leave you in awe! For now, it is about the experience and not the end-result. I personally recommend trying your hand at short stories, since they help you keep track of tempo and pace on a small scale; since epic fantasy novels are VERY Challenging. Alright, On to the criticisms.

#1, you are too wordy. At first, you may want to say that this is just your 'style', but there is a difference between eloquence, and being too wordy. It is ALL about the extra words, and what they contribute. Examine your articles, adverbs, dialogue tags, and adjectives (in that order), and see what ones ACTUALLY contribute. I am not going to list these off; because learning to find them yourself is important for you to get better. But here is an example, " He continued on down the hall" you do not need the word 'on'. It may seem like a small thing, but over the course of a single page, you can easily have a hundred 'small things' which become a big thing. They influence several things, notably your pace. They drag your sentences, and in turn the story. Next, they weaken the poignancy of your sentences. Think about how much stronger your words will feel when you cut and trim out the extra stuff that doesn't add anything? Also be wary of repetition (usually adverbs are not needed because they just repeat something from earlier) Look for Writing analysis software, to help guide your copy-editing, (Try SmartEdit) It isn't about being 'lean' in your sentences, but ONLY choosing powerful words which contribute. This is part of why your 'fight scene' feels so long to the other reviewer; as well as the next part.

#2, "Show Don't Tell" is thrown around a lot, and this maxim is taken by some to an absurd extreme. The fact is, that good writing requires both; it takes balance in EVERY way to make writing good. Your problem here, is that there is not good balance, there is some showing, but too much telling. It makes it harder for the reader to immerse themselves past the words, and in turn, to feel the pace.
Here is a word of thumb, whenever someone says something, or a word is described (mostly adjectives) think if there is a way you can give that feeling instead of Telling it. Obviously if you do this EVERY word, it will make your writing 'excessive', so again, it is about balance. But some parts obviously need the showing. Ex. "The mood is jolly in the gathering hall and the people are merry from the ale." This sentence, sucks... If you were to read it in a book, would you feel like you were there? Does jolly and merry really make you feel anything?

#3, Punctuation, this is common thing for someone your age; a lack of diversity in punctuation. Almost everything is a simple sentence, just a basic clause and a period, possibly a comma here any there. For high-fantasy, this feels bland. I recommend studying up on semi-colons and hyphens, and learning how to use them. Don't go overboard, but with some tactful use, you can make your writing feel more sophisticated and intelligent, as several ideas can merge into a single flowing unit.

#4, Metaphors, there are almost none in here; and certainly not many that feel unique and interesting. This ties in with the show don't tell advice, when looking at descriptions, see if you can't explain them in a unique way. Something to make a person who reads about how the "blossoms tickled the earth" or the "Sun graced the horizon", look out in their life and feel a sense of wonder, because they had never thought of the world this way. Again, balance! Do NOT overuse them. If every sentence has a metaphor, then none of them will stand out, and you will just seem wordy and pretentious. So carefully consider the moments that you can truly WOW your audience.

Do not worry about characterizing the characters too much; as the other reviewer pointed out. These problems mostly stem from the issues that I pointed out above. Once they can better connect to the story, they can likewise better connect with the characters. So just focus on the things I pointed out, while bearing in mind (much like unique metaphors) ways that the characters can be unique... then SHOW us. Anyway, this is all difficult stuff to do; balance takes years to understand, and it can't just be 'told' or 'taught'--you have to start feeling it. Do not expect to be able to do all of this at once, and don't get discouraged when you are not able to. Just keep them in mind when you write; and years down the road, you will find yourself more capable at doing it. Practice, experience, and dedication. Good Luck!

[Chivalry]

Thanks heaps for that! :) Really helpful review. I've noticed that I am a bit too wordy, and I'm trying to work on that. I'll take everything you've pointed out and pay more attention to those things. Thank you :D