Ok guys, I'll lay down the story behind this crazy story of mine. I started writing this about three years ago during the summer. I was apparently very bored and had some pretty good thoughts that I wanted to get down on my computer. I had no intention of writing almost 80 pages of this story (That's 30 chapters, about 60 something thousand words.), but after I got going I was like "Hey, I sort of have something here!"
But here's the problem: I'm a little worried that some of my plot lines follow too closely with some other fantasy novels, particularly Eragon and Eldest (I hope some of you have read them so that you can give me another perspective on it.) Eventually I lost steam, and stopped writing all together. Suddenly, it seemed as though all my cool ideas were not my own, and that I had accidentally written pretty much a different version of Eragon with a few minor changes (I certainly didn't meant to if I did >.<) So I'd really like to know if I have anything resembling a plausible fantasy novel that doesn't steal too many elements from other books. I'm only one person, so I need some other opinions on it please!
On another unrelated note, whilst copying my story from Word over to Pages, the Mac word processor program, some of the text might have been changed accidentally. I'll try to do my best to edit out the errors, but let me know if you see anything.
One more thing...I'm not exactly sure if I should put a rating or anything on this. Just know that there are some violent images, but nothing that is incredibly disturbing.
One more thing! XD....I'll try to get a map draw soon and put it on the first post, and some of the locations are quite important to the story line.
And with that, I shall post the prologue. I hope you enjoy, and I'd really appreciate the feedback!
Prologue
The night was cloudless and cool as the assault came quickly and relentlessly upon the city of Dylenor. As the elves slept, hundreds of soldiers poured in to the city through the dense forest, silently dashing through the gaps in between houses, torches lit and ready. They knew it was a suicide mission, and they would not make it out alive. The elves would sense their presence. Their orders were to cause as much damage as possible, and burn everything in sight. And if possible, kill the King of the Elves. Their lord said that their efforts would be admirable and that they should be proud to serve him in this manner. What an honor it will be to know that you have taken the first steps in destroying our greatest enemy, their lord had said before they made the long trek across Anguardain.
Knowing that when the elves found that their city was being attacked, they would destroy the small group of soldiers quickly, so they began lighting houses on fire. Before the elves could even react, the soldiers had set dozens of homes ablaze. Many soldiers were disgusted by what they were doing. They were once free men. And now, they were forced to attack the elves or face a penalty of death. Houses collapsed, and the fires spread. Elves had come out of there homes to try to put the blazing fires out. At this, the soldiers charged from their spot behind the burning houses, and as they were ordered, began to slay the elves mercilessly. Men, women, and children alike fell victim to the flashes of steel that could not be blocked. What does this prove?, thought one soldier. We are cowards that take the lives of innocent beings that cannot defend themselves. As he went to kill another elf girl, his head was separated from his shoulders by an elven blade.
Such courage and strength surprised the men as the elves fought back the attack. Soldiers were dropping every second by a flash of magic or a sword. As the reduced number of men huddled together and started towards the kings castle, they were met by a huge group of elves.
They stood before the group of frightened soldiers, swords drawn, and a fierce look upon their faces. The soldiers had stopped their advance and looked upon the relatively small group. Their mission had not completely succeeded, and the number of homes that were burned were not nearly as many as their master had hoped for. They had not reached the kings castle either. Most of the men wore a look of pure horror, for they knew the elves were magical creatures. Knowing that their death was moments away, they readied themselves for the elves. Many threw their weapons aside and fled for their lives. Elves quickly came from their houses, weapons drawn. Men and women alike joined the group, which eventually grew into a sizeable force outnumbering the soldiers greatly.
Most of these men had never seen an elf before. Every single one of them was beautiful, not a single flaw on their skin. They all had a calm look of defiance. They would die for their king.
An elf from the front of the pack came forward and cried , "Hear me you wretched cowards! We do nothing to provoke the conflict that has been ceased for many a year! You slay our women and children, and now we shall slay you! May you always regret the day that you stormed into our great city!"
And with that he gave a fierce cry and charged forward, the rest of the elves following at his heels. Some came with swords. Others attacked with magic, sending bolts of fire upon their terrified foes. Before the soldiers could prepare themselves, the elves struck them with a clash of metal. They were torn apart by the elves, who struck with such skill and fury that the soldiers had cast their weapons aside and ran for their lives. Within a short while the great city of Dylenor was cleared of the soldiers and the elves began to cheer as the sound of their victory filled the air.
-
Edivan Eythinor stood from his balcony and watched his people cheer in the center of Dylenor. Half of his city had been burned and many elves had been killed. The beautiful trees that had once stood tall and proud, a sign of hope for the elves, were now flaming towers, spewing ash and fire into the ruined streets. His castle had not been touched. For that, he had the elven people to thank. As he surveyed the destruction, he began to think.
No one saw the attack coming. No one predicted that the Dark Forces, led by the evil King Nevalin, would ever break their silent pact that had stood for so long. Over 50 years ago, the elves alone stood against the growing forces in the south, knowing that if they were to begin taking over more land, all in Anguardain would suffer. Nevalin was an evil ruler who longed for power. No one knows how he came to be in Anguardain. But suddenly, he appeared from the southeast and took over the barren and desolate wastelands. For a long while, no one even knew he was there, for very few traveled past the Raz-nar desert. But after years of planning, he made his presence known. His armies began a slow campaign to conquer Anguardain and send it into a swirling torrent of chaos and dictatorship. The elves quickly and desperately tried to convince the dwarves, men, and other races to join in the campaign, but no one saw the danger, and the elves had to stand against the Dark Forces alone.
For many months the elves fought against their growing enemy. Each day it seemed that more and more land was being lost. Eventually, The Darkness, a general word made up for the land that was controlled by the Dark Forces, reached to the southeast corner of the Raz-nar Desert and the southern borders of the dragon realm. The dragons of course would remain neutral on the matter. They usually kept to themselves and stayed out of others affairs. They were the oldest of all beings in Anguardain, settling in their small area of land even before the elves came to be. Few had ever seen a dragon, but it was considered extremely lucky to lay eyes upon one. The dragons scarcely showed themselves, and they were shrouded in mystery, for no one had ever ventured into the Dragon realm.
Eventually the elves erected Ravonald, a massive fort just beyond the eastern-most edge of the Ledec Mountains. From here they tried to contain the spread of The Darkness, but to no avail. Just when the situation seemed hopeless, the fighting stopped, and the Dark Forces ceased their advance.
But why?, thought King Eythinor, as he moved back into his sleeping chambers. Why would they stop after they had conquered so much land? Were they afraid that they would be defeated? Or did they stop to regroup their forces?
The answer seemed obvious to him. After Nevalin withdrew, the elves were bewildered. Though the elves celebrated victory, they were still cautious of another attack. But after a year, the situation seemed under control, and the elves left Ravonald and returned to their home in the Lira forest, only to be attacked viciously by the Dark Forces many years later.
All due to my stupidity., thought King Eythinor. How can I call myself the King of the Elves when I cant even protect them? Not even a thousand soldiers invaded and our population has been cut in half. We shall need to reassess the situation and try to gain the support of the races of men and dwarves, though it pains me once again to do so. Here we are, asking the beings we created for aid
Frustrated, King Eythinor paced angrily in his room, waiting for a report from one of his scouts. He nervously looked out of his balcony and surveyed the destruction of his grand city. Mostly homes were burned, and many of the elves secret species of plants and trees had perished in the scattered gardens, leaving only a few to spare. Most of the elf army was stationed inside the king's massive castle, which had been untouched by the attack. He felt the pain of the families that had lost their loved ones. Again he angered himself and wiped the sweat from his brow, and resumed his pacing. He waited for an hour until finally, he heard a knock on the door.
"Enter." said the weary king, in a tired but urgent voice.
The scout came in. " My lord, we have done a full search of the city and it seems that there are no soldiers to be seen. The fires have been put out and recovery efforts have already begun"
"Ah, it does me well to her these words. Tell me, what of my children? Are Tyran and Eradonna safe?"
At this, the scout's face paled. In a nervous voice, he said," My lord, Tyran is safe in the lower chambers. B-but….Eradonna…"
"But? But what?", the king exclaimed. " Where is she?"
" My lord, I beg your forgiveness. We have searched the entire castle and scouts were sent out as soon as we realized that she was missing. She is no where to be seen. M-my lord, it is possible that she might have been taken…"
King Eythinor started disbelievingly at the scout, who shuddered under his hard gaze. Then the king said, "You will find my daughter and return her to me. I don't care how long it takes." . At this he faltered and tears flowed down his cheeks. "….Just return her to me."
"Yes my lord.", said the scout quickly, and he dashed out the door.
King Eythinor started at the door for a long time, not knowing what to do with himself. My daughter, gone. How can this be?
He sat down upon his bed and wept for his people and his lost child.
-
Many miles away, the defeated soldiers, numbering less than one hundred, trudged wearily along the outskirts of Lira forest. Though many were injured, they continued along at a brisk pace, for fear that the elves would follow. The survivors glanced back at the fading city of Dylenor. They knew they had done their job, and their master would be pleased. And perhaps something more would be in store for them.
Eradonna Eythinor uttered a desperate cry as a soldier bound and gagged her, and she was carried away from her home.
But here's the problem: I'm a little worried that some of my plot lines follow too closely with some other fantasy novels, particularly Eragon and Eldest (I hope some of you have read them so that you can give me another perspective on it.) Eventually I lost steam, and stopped writing all together. Suddenly, it seemed as though all my cool ideas were not my own, and that I had accidentally written pretty much a different version of Eragon with a few minor changes (I certainly didn't meant to if I did >.<) So I'd really like to know if I have anything resembling a plausible fantasy novel that doesn't steal too many elements from other books. I'm only one person, so I need some other opinions on it please!
On another unrelated note, whilst copying my story from Word over to Pages, the Mac word processor program, some of the text might have been changed accidentally. I'll try to do my best to edit out the errors, but let me know if you see anything.
One more thing...I'm not exactly sure if I should put a rating or anything on this. Just know that there are some violent images, but nothing that is incredibly disturbing.
One more thing! XD....I'll try to get a map draw soon and put it on the first post, and some of the locations are quite important to the story line.
And with that, I shall post the prologue. I hope you enjoy, and I'd really appreciate the feedback!
Prologue
The night was cloudless and cool as the assault came quickly and relentlessly upon the city of Dylenor. As the elves slept, hundreds of soldiers poured in to the city through the dense forest, silently dashing through the gaps in between houses, torches lit and ready. They knew it was a suicide mission, and they would not make it out alive. The elves would sense their presence. Their orders were to cause as much damage as possible, and burn everything in sight. And if possible, kill the King of the Elves. Their lord said that their efforts would be admirable and that they should be proud to serve him in this manner. What an honor it will be to know that you have taken the first steps in destroying our greatest enemy, their lord had said before they made the long trek across Anguardain.
Knowing that when the elves found that their city was being attacked, they would destroy the small group of soldiers quickly, so they began lighting houses on fire. Before the elves could even react, the soldiers had set dozens of homes ablaze. Many soldiers were disgusted by what they were doing. They were once free men. And now, they were forced to attack the elves or face a penalty of death. Houses collapsed, and the fires spread. Elves had come out of there homes to try to put the blazing fires out. At this, the soldiers charged from their spot behind the burning houses, and as they were ordered, began to slay the elves mercilessly. Men, women, and children alike fell victim to the flashes of steel that could not be blocked. What does this prove?, thought one soldier. We are cowards that take the lives of innocent beings that cannot defend themselves. As he went to kill another elf girl, his head was separated from his shoulders by an elven blade.
Such courage and strength surprised the men as the elves fought back the attack. Soldiers were dropping every second by a flash of magic or a sword. As the reduced number of men huddled together and started towards the kings castle, they were met by a huge group of elves.
They stood before the group of frightened soldiers, swords drawn, and a fierce look upon their faces. The soldiers had stopped their advance and looked upon the relatively small group. Their mission had not completely succeeded, and the number of homes that were burned were not nearly as many as their master had hoped for. They had not reached the kings castle either. Most of the men wore a look of pure horror, for they knew the elves were magical creatures. Knowing that their death was moments away, they readied themselves for the elves. Many threw their weapons aside and fled for their lives. Elves quickly came from their houses, weapons drawn. Men and women alike joined the group, which eventually grew into a sizeable force outnumbering the soldiers greatly.
Most of these men had never seen an elf before. Every single one of them was beautiful, not a single flaw on their skin. They all had a calm look of defiance. They would die for their king.
An elf from the front of the pack came forward and cried , "Hear me you wretched cowards! We do nothing to provoke the conflict that has been ceased for many a year! You slay our women and children, and now we shall slay you! May you always regret the day that you stormed into our great city!"
And with that he gave a fierce cry and charged forward, the rest of the elves following at his heels. Some came with swords. Others attacked with magic, sending bolts of fire upon their terrified foes. Before the soldiers could prepare themselves, the elves struck them with a clash of metal. They were torn apart by the elves, who struck with such skill and fury that the soldiers had cast their weapons aside and ran for their lives. Within a short while the great city of Dylenor was cleared of the soldiers and the elves began to cheer as the sound of their victory filled the air.
-
Edivan Eythinor stood from his balcony and watched his people cheer in the center of Dylenor. Half of his city had been burned and many elves had been killed. The beautiful trees that had once stood tall and proud, a sign of hope for the elves, were now flaming towers, spewing ash and fire into the ruined streets. His castle had not been touched. For that, he had the elven people to thank. As he surveyed the destruction, he began to think.
No one saw the attack coming. No one predicted that the Dark Forces, led by the evil King Nevalin, would ever break their silent pact that had stood for so long. Over 50 years ago, the elves alone stood against the growing forces in the south, knowing that if they were to begin taking over more land, all in Anguardain would suffer. Nevalin was an evil ruler who longed for power. No one knows how he came to be in Anguardain. But suddenly, he appeared from the southeast and took over the barren and desolate wastelands. For a long while, no one even knew he was there, for very few traveled past the Raz-nar desert. But after years of planning, he made his presence known. His armies began a slow campaign to conquer Anguardain and send it into a swirling torrent of chaos and dictatorship. The elves quickly and desperately tried to convince the dwarves, men, and other races to join in the campaign, but no one saw the danger, and the elves had to stand against the Dark Forces alone.
For many months the elves fought against their growing enemy. Each day it seemed that more and more land was being lost. Eventually, The Darkness, a general word made up for the land that was controlled by the Dark Forces, reached to the southeast corner of the Raz-nar Desert and the southern borders of the dragon realm. The dragons of course would remain neutral on the matter. They usually kept to themselves and stayed out of others affairs. They were the oldest of all beings in Anguardain, settling in their small area of land even before the elves came to be. Few had ever seen a dragon, but it was considered extremely lucky to lay eyes upon one. The dragons scarcely showed themselves, and they were shrouded in mystery, for no one had ever ventured into the Dragon realm.
Eventually the elves erected Ravonald, a massive fort just beyond the eastern-most edge of the Ledec Mountains. From here they tried to contain the spread of The Darkness, but to no avail. Just when the situation seemed hopeless, the fighting stopped, and the Dark Forces ceased their advance.
But why?, thought King Eythinor, as he moved back into his sleeping chambers. Why would they stop after they had conquered so much land? Were they afraid that they would be defeated? Or did they stop to regroup their forces?
The answer seemed obvious to him. After Nevalin withdrew, the elves were bewildered. Though the elves celebrated victory, they were still cautious of another attack. But after a year, the situation seemed under control, and the elves left Ravonald and returned to their home in the Lira forest, only to be attacked viciously by the Dark Forces many years later.
All due to my stupidity., thought King Eythinor. How can I call myself the King of the Elves when I cant even protect them? Not even a thousand soldiers invaded and our population has been cut in half. We shall need to reassess the situation and try to gain the support of the races of men and dwarves, though it pains me once again to do so. Here we are, asking the beings we created for aid
Frustrated, King Eythinor paced angrily in his room, waiting for a report from one of his scouts. He nervously looked out of his balcony and surveyed the destruction of his grand city. Mostly homes were burned, and many of the elves secret species of plants and trees had perished in the scattered gardens, leaving only a few to spare. Most of the elf army was stationed inside the king's massive castle, which had been untouched by the attack. He felt the pain of the families that had lost their loved ones. Again he angered himself and wiped the sweat from his brow, and resumed his pacing. He waited for an hour until finally, he heard a knock on the door.
"Enter." said the weary king, in a tired but urgent voice.
The scout came in. " My lord, we have done a full search of the city and it seems that there are no soldiers to be seen. The fires have been put out and recovery efforts have already begun"
"Ah, it does me well to her these words. Tell me, what of my children? Are Tyran and Eradonna safe?"
At this, the scout's face paled. In a nervous voice, he said," My lord, Tyran is safe in the lower chambers. B-but….Eradonna…"
"But? But what?", the king exclaimed. " Where is she?"
" My lord, I beg your forgiveness. We have searched the entire castle and scouts were sent out as soon as we realized that she was missing. She is no where to be seen. M-my lord, it is possible that she might have been taken…"
King Eythinor started disbelievingly at the scout, who shuddered under his hard gaze. Then the king said, "You will find my daughter and return her to me. I don't care how long it takes." . At this he faltered and tears flowed down his cheeks. "….Just return her to me."
"Yes my lord.", said the scout quickly, and he dashed out the door.
King Eythinor started at the door for a long time, not knowing what to do with himself. My daughter, gone. How can this be?
He sat down upon his bed and wept for his people and his lost child.
-
Many miles away, the defeated soldiers, numbering less than one hundred, trudged wearily along the outskirts of Lira forest. Though many were injured, they continued along at a brisk pace, for fear that the elves would follow. The survivors glanced back at the fading city of Dylenor. They knew they had done their job, and their master would be pleased. And perhaps something more would be in store for them.
Eradonna Eythinor uttered a desperate cry as a soldier bound and gagged her, and she was carried away from her home.