The princeling was scared. Wide eyed, shaking and pale, like a typical steer. He probably would have bolted if Tibe hadn't been standing between him and the door to the bar room.
Tibe hooked his foot around a chair and pulled it across to sit on. At the other end of the table, Marcus sat down. The princeling though, remained standing. Was he waiting for an invitation? Or ready to make a quick get away? Tibe sniggered.
Marcus coughed. "Tibe, this is Prince--"
"I know who he is."
"Well then, Randall, this is my friend Tibe." Marcus tugged at a strand of blonde-tipped hair. "He's the Raven Second, as I said."
The princeling nodded. "That's good." He hadn't realised that by now? Tibe scowled. Even if the steer wasn't familiar with the colours of the armbands, the raven tattoos should have been a giveaway. Tibe pushed a gold chain down his arm and leaned his elbows on the table. Even a steer couldn't miss the black birds now.
Tibe flexed his muscles, making the ravens look ready to take flight. "You're going to help us," he said, and leaned forward to emphasize the menace in his voice. "You're going to tell us how to get into the castle after dark and lead us to the King's chambers."
"I can't." The princeling rubbed at the sweat on his forehead. "Never -- I won't betray the King."
Tibe slammed his fist onto the table. "Do you realize who we are? You don't do what we ask, you'll be carrying your balls home in a bag."
Marcus coughed and shuffled his feet.
The steer reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet pouch that he had carried with him since puberty. "Like this?" He opened the pouch. "Why do you think they call me the steer?"
Tibe's eyes widened and his face paled. This was going to be tougher than he thought.
Opening: Xenith.....Continuation: Anonymous
13 comments:
Unchosen Continuations:
"So," said the Princeling, with his voice cracking, "who asks who to dance?"
"Whom," said Tibe, petulantly.
--Bill Highsmith
The Princeling shuffled awkwardly at the sight of the ravens, but started to speak, "I hear that you have certain skills-"
"Tibe is of the clan Studonthigh," Marcus interrupted.
The irritation was growing in Tibe. The Princeling still hadn't caught on to that? He quickly untied his black hair so that it caressed over his shoulders.
Tibe got back to business. "Now, my little Princeling-"
"Tibe was the first to pass the trial of Draco's Branding since Clorre's reign." Marcus continued.
Tibe turned to Marcus in anger and ripped open his shirt to reveal the brands across his broad, rippling chest with the scars of the dragon slithering around his nipples.
"Tibe is a male."
That was it! Tibe yanked his clothes down to show the entire world he was as male as could be.
The Princeling stood in shock while Marcus smiled and started drawing on his notepad quickly. Assignments for Ye Olde Playgirle had gotten so much easier since he met Tibe.
--Pacatrue
The Princeling yawned and scratched his arm.
"You bored, clown?" said Tibe, pointing at his raven tattoos.
"Yeah, a little."
"Would getting your butt kicked help?"
Randall ripped the gold chain off Tibe's arm and wrapped it tight around Tibe's neck. "What would help is if you and your girlfriends here would go get me some lunch. I thought this was a gang, not a knitting party." Princeling gave Tibe a shove and his chair went tumbling backwards. "You got a problem with that, Tibe?"
"Hot dog or hamburger?"
--Bill H.
The princeling peered wistfully at the black tattoos, wishing now he'd been chosen to join the ravens. Some initiation rites were so easy. Others were ... well, there was a reason the princeling remained standing. He'd been made a steer only recently.
--Phoenix
I'm confused by this:
Marcus: "He's the Raven Second, as I said."
Princeling: "That's good." He hadn't realized that by now?
Who hadn't realized what, and whose thought is that?
"...as I said" implies that Marcus has already told the princeling that Tibe is the Raven Second, so of course the princeling already realizes it. "That's good" doesn't necessarily indicate that the princeling hadn't realized it.
Ambiguous references and undefined terminology make this seem like the middle of something, not the beginning. The "steer" simile seems so counter to the princely role I'm not sure you know what makes the steer not a bull. Maybe you need to start a little earlier so we understand it better, and/or use a different simile?
Looks familiar :).
You tell us the princeling is scared, then show us that he's scared. You only need one. Try something like:
Wide-eyed, the princeling shook with fear like a typical steer.
(I left pale out cos I couldn't immediately see where to put it; next to princeling its effect would be unfortunate)
I can hear you saying "nah" from here, yanno :).
When I get hungry and dinner's late, I get frantic. My Comments:
Your Words: The princeling was scared. Wide eyed, shaking and pale, like a typical steer. He probably would have bolted if Tibe hadn't been standing between him and the door to the bar room.
[you say he's scared twice. Let's save words. This is 32 words. I think you can say it in 19 words. Read on]
Your Words: Tibe hooked his foot around a chair and pulled it across to sit on. At the other end of the table, Marcus sat down. The princeling though, remained standing. Was he waiting for an invitation? Or ready to make a quick get away? Tibe sniggered.
[This is so much inside Tibe's head. And it's annoying to be that far inside Tibe's head. Why's it annoying? Because we're comparing two behaviors to get one result. You interrupt everything with Marcus because the reader's brain has to add a character, remain inside Tibe's head and look at the scared Princeling. Most people don't think two things at once.]
{How about this:]
Wide-eyed, shaking and pale, the Princling looked like a frightened steer. Tibe blocked his path to the Bar's door, pulled a chair over with his foot, and sat opposite Marcus. The Princeling remained standing. Tibe sniggered at the scared boy. Either he wants an invitation or a way out, he thought.
[All that is what Tibe sees and we see it too. I like the next few sentences. But I'd pull Marcus' fiddling (nervousness) up to his sentence and I'd pack their dialog together. I'm a fan of dialog being together.]
Marcus tugged his blonde hair out of his eyes and coughed. "Tibe, this is Prince Randall--"
"I know who he is."
"This is my friend Tibe, the Raven Second."
"That's good." The Princeling nodded his head for everyone to see.
"Not to bright, are you?" Tibe said.
[See how startling the Princeling's inattentiveness becomes?]
[The rest is mostly your words, rearranged:]
Tibe pushed a gold chain down his arm and leaned his elbows on the table. He scowled and pushed a gold chain down his arm and leaned his elbows on the table. The colours of the armbands, the raven tattoos now in full sight, announced his rank.
[You want to call the Princeling dumb and you've done that twice - once by calling him a cow and the next by showing that his powers of observation are less than they should be. This third mention is gilding the lily. It's piling on. And you don't need another name for a cow (steer - a castrated bull). Nor do you need to force the "Raven" and "Black Birds" comparison. Ravens portend power, blackbirds sing in the dead of night and joke with baby elephants. Don't rub that comparison in my face. You're making the Princeling sound like a Mary Sue. He's scared and he's not used to being threatened or under the tension of flight or the secrecy of making surreptitious plans.]
And just so y'all understand. I like this opening. I like the characters and the setting.
Yeah, uh, what Dave said pretty much goes for me, too. I like the opening, and Dave's suggestions were right on the mark, I think.
Dave, you know something? I've watched your critiques improve dramatically over the last year or so. Good job.
I'm doing this type of editing on a couple short stories and I enjoyed Xenith's short story. I saw my own writing there.
I worry that I removed too much of Xenith's voice. Actually, I worry that I remove any author's voice. I've been victim of that on occasion. Not online but offline.
There are things we don't know because the text is so short. I think that we all assumed this is some sort of medieval or guild or European feudal setting. What if this turns out to be an alternative history set in Tombstone Arizona? Then steers, crows, cows and lots of other western imagery applies.
Messing around with "princeling" bothered me because of the rarity of the word. It's use calls up so much imagery of what that young man or boy looks like.
Another thing that worried me in making changes is that I see Tibe and Marcus as young men. The whole bunch is like the hobbits - Merry, Pip and Sam - in Tolkein. What if they are 45 years old and the "princeling" is really a Mary Sue of about 25 who is being manipulated? Think The Man in the Iron Mask with an idiot king. Or maybe "The Corsican Brothers" with Cheech and Chong.
What reads well in one case can be scenario unsuitable for another scenario.
I was very distracted by Marcus tugging at a lock of blond hair. I thought he was tugging the prince's hair. But then the prince said, "That's good" like he hadn't noticed anyone tugging his hair (or maybe he enjoyed it). So I had to re-read everything.
Dave says: "You interrupt everything with Marcus because the reader's brain has to add a character, remain inside Tibe's head and look at the scared Princeling."
I think Dave explains succinctly the reason why I am confused about whose hair is being tugged.
I think your opening is better than the average that appears on EE's blog; you have an active writing style and we are instantly in the midst of some sort of conflict. I'm a big fan of getting to the point straight away.
I do however think you have a couple too many distracting details which can be removed at this early stage of your story (like tugging on hair, blond or otherwise). You should pick and choose, just until your readers get their bearings.
~loiterer
Holy Mithras, Batman?
Tightening needed, but I like it.
I didn't get this AT ALL. Who is Randall? Why is a "steer" typified as being "shaking and pale"? Does the word "steer" have a special meaning in your story? Most steers I've seen are just chewing their cud, oblivious to cows, bulls, etc. Was this meant to be a reference to the procedure that turns the bull into a steer? I'm sure there are many ways to go about it, but my uncle (a farmer) would just put a sturdy rubber-band around the scrotum of the young animal; the lack of blood to the genitals would cause the sack to shrivel and dry up, eventually falling off. No trauma there!
Is this a chapter beginning?
I think I prefer the continuation to the real thing.
I've been away, selling second-hand postcards and the odd coin to people, & not sure when this was posted, so just in case anyone is, you know, still reading comments on this:
This is for all intents & purposes my first novel, the one I pull out every year or so, wonder what I was thinking when I wrote that, and redo large bits of it. I like the characters & settings too, but that words frustrate me.
I'll keep these comments for my next overhaul. All useful, thanks!
The steer thing: young males of the upper class are usually looked upon as lacking in manliness (particulary Randall here who hasn't managed to father any children in 10 years). If it needs explaining... next time!
(And squirrel: nah!)
That's not what a Mary Sue is.
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