The Crispy Knight was a quiet tavern usually, not too rowdy or loud, but when the Demon King’s second-in-command, Gote, came cantering inside utter silence fell. The chubby satyr sauntered through the crowded room and idle conversations stopped, even the clink of glasses ceased.
Ruuk leaned forward as Gote clambered onto the bar with his goat-like legs, cloven hooves clicking across the lacquered surface. Raising his chubby arms for silence, Gote said, “All right, lads, any of you looking to impress the boss: here’s your chance.”
Ruuk straightened at his lonely table and strained his ears to catch every word. His quest for employment in the city was not going well. During his first week in the underground culture of Faerie, he’d discovered there wasn’t much work going around, and even less for an overgrown ‘brute of a troll’ like him— as one shopkeeper so eloquently put it. Ha.
Through the silence, Buhll leapt to his hooves, the brass ring in his nose gleaming dully in the tavern light. "I'll do it!"
Gote looked at him, amused. "Glad to have a volunteer before I even describe the task."
In the corner, Hogg raised his voice as well. "No, choose me!"
Ruuk sank back in despair, but his mood lightened when Gote asked the Demon King, who had just made his entrance, "What'll it be for dinner tonight, boss? Steak or pork chops?"
Opening: Elizabeth D. Walker.....Continuation: Min Yin
9 comments:
Unchosen continuations:
But being a hulking brute helped now, as Ruuk shouldered his way to the front of the line, knocking the other hopefuls aside. He was at the front just as Gote gave the signal to the musicians.
As the music began to play, Ruuk took a firm hold of the pole with one hand. He wrapped his legs around it and started to swing to and fro, in time with the music. With his free hand, he began to undo the lacing of his leather jerkin.
It wasn't the job he was hoping for, but in Faerie's current economic situation, it was the best he could hope for.
--Steve Wright
"The Deamon King wants his anal sacs squeezed again," said Gote.
Ruuk threw his hand into the air and everyone in the bar heaved a collective sigh of relief.
--anon.
He had a trick up his sleeve. The hoard he had stashed was about to be spent. He met with the doctor the next morning, he signed the papers and within 24 hours his sex change would make him the loveliest of all in the land of Faerie. If you can't beat them, change the rules.
--Anon.
Now was his chance.
Ruuk clambered to the top of the table. With one swift tug his robe fell away, revealing his shaved body. His dainty pink corset offset the chartreuse stockings and purple stiletto heels. Shaking his head, the floppy hat fell away, releasing a thick confusion of golden curls.
Head high, eyes glittering, he threw his head back, singing in his sweet falsetto voice:
"And I iiiaaahiaahhhiaaahhh
Will alwayyyysss love Youuuuu..."
--Khazar-khum
When he'd met the Widow Lavender--and her fifteen cats and two house pixies--six days ago, he'd felt certain that this escort-service business was the gold-plated ticket to Easy Street. Now, exhausted, dehydrated, nursing three sprained muscles and a possible broken rib, he was looking forward to the Demon King's employ. He needed the vacation.
--Ellie
Not clear why Gote raises his chubby arms for silence in p.2 when in p.1 utter silence fell.
Also, using "chubby" twice isn't useful.
Otherwise, good voice and an interesting opening.
It's a bit obvious, naming a satyr "Gote."
This isn't bad, but when Dave pops up saying "cut by half," listen to him. Here's the most drastic cutting that might work:
---
[[When Gote]] sauntered [[into]] the crowded room[[,]] even the clink of glasses ceased.
Ruuk leaned forward as [[the chubby satyr]] clambered onto the bar with his goat legs, cloven hooves clicking across the lacquered surface. Raising his arms for silence, Gote said, “All right, lads, any of you looking to impress the boss: here’s your chance.”
Ruuk straightened at his lonely table and strained his ears to catch every word[[;work wasn't easy to find if you were a troll.]]
---
You definitely need to shorten the last paragraph; the first sentence says it all. The same principle could apply to the first paragraph, too, only with the last sentence. You also use "chubby" twice in short succession.
For no reason than that I don't like to use "was" in the first sentence of any story -- an admittedly silly reason for doing anything -- what does this do for you?
Gote the Satyr, the Demon King’s second-in-command, sauntered into the Crispy Knight. The tavern crowd, never too rowdy or loud, fell silent -- conversations stopped and the clink of glasses ceased.
Ruuk, a troll, leaned forward as Gote clambered his chubby body and goat-like legs onto the bar, His cloven hooves scratching the lacquered surface. Raising his flabby arms for silence, Gote said, “All right, lads, any of you looking to impress the boss: here’s your chance.”
My trouble is with the last paragraph, which went on a tangent and took me out of the scene. I think the action of Ruuk straightening up and perking his ears is enough to let us know he's looking for a job.
I like how the bar is called Crispy Knight. Cute.
I'd read on.
I also felt that the last paragraph took me out of the scene, but it actually made me curious about the job hunting Ruuk went through.
Of course, this is just one person's opinion, but I think the opening would be much more interesting if you'd started with that. I would be really interested to read about a troll going into an employment agency and all the hilarity that would ensue.
If the story is going to be about Ruuk, it would definitely make me sympathize with him more than him just sitting in a tavern.
Can I just say the continuation was brilliant?
I didn't notice before, but The Crispy Knight really is a masterful name for a tavern.
Thanks, Marissa! This was a fun one.
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