Novel Treatments / The Wall of Souls Pt. 1 (Analysis)
Prologue
The man in black charged recklessly forward, his gore-stained broadsword cutting a swath through the opposition. Blood sprayed copiously from the freshly cleaved skull of his latest kill, but the man had no time to notice. His blade had already begun searching for new foes, those unlucky souls that bore the badge of Dryvia. There was no time now to think, no time to wonder why he felt alive only when surrounded by death. Later, perhaps, there would be time for guilt and regret, but in this moment there was only the hunt…the kill.
He was certain there was some reason for all this chaos. That the kings who had set this war in motion must have had some justification, some reason that seemed to them sufficient enough to send their men to slaughter. Perhaps the Dryvians had encroached upon the territory of Hoplis, raiding the lesser-defended keeps along the border. Perhaps some treaty, the details of which were clear only to the nobility, had been violated. The possibilities were many and varied, and none of them mattered.
He did not know (or care to know) the reason he was summoned to do battle. He owed no allegiance to man or kingdom, and asked no questions so long as his payment was the right weight. He was a mercenary, a killer for hire. He had made war on a hundred different battlefields under almost as many banners. He had killed peasants, knights, and (on one glorious occasion) even a king. In all the many years he had been waging war, the only reason he ever needed was the thrill of the fight.
He was, in all aspects, exactly the man she required.
Chapter One
Ayendva gazed into the crystal bowl, her ruby lips slowly spreading into a smile as she watched the battle unfold. She scanned the battlefield momentarily before concentrating on a figure in black who was wielding a massive broadsword. “He definitely has the skill required to serve as the guardian. He is certainly the most ferocious fighter on the field. I wonder, though, if he is the kind of man that can be trusted with such an important task. His allegiance is, after all, only to himself.”
Liminus paused for a moment, contemplating. “I’ve had dealings with the man before, when he served in the mercenary companies of Lyonis. Veldrin Descanreux is crude and at times vicious, but his allegiance will lie with whomever we wish it to. Assuming, of course, that he is properly motivated,” he said, patting the bulging pouch at his hip. “Besides, we haven’t enough time to search out another candidate, so he will have to do.”
“Whatever the cost, I must make it to Anwyr before the new year. The Wall of Souls will hold until then, I think, but to wait any longer would be folly,” Ayendva said worriedly. “I will set out as soon as our preparations are complete. I only hope that the Key of Xanthyr is still in place. I will need it in order to repair the damage already done to the wall.”
The Wall of Souls was a barrier forged thousands of years earlier, at the end of the War of Breaking that separated the world of men from the world of demons. The Council of Maegi, a powerful cabal of Maegi both demon and human formed at the close of the war, had come to the realization that human and demon could never truly be at peace. Humans harbored a bitter jealousy for their enemy, who were physically and magically superior if fewer in number than the humans, and if the two continued to exist upon the same plane they would likely tear each other apart. A group of ten of their most powerful maegi was sent into the Temple of Dreaming, the nexus point that joined the two worlds together, performing a ritual that resulted in their deaths and the forging of the Key of Xanthyr in order to seal the Dhol gate and sever the worlds forever. It had held for ages beyond human reckoning, forgotten by all but a chosen few descendents of the Council of Maegi, but now it had begun to weaken. Only the Key of Xanthyr, the vessel containing the magical essences of the ten maegi, could be used to reinforce the barrier.
“According to all the histories still present in the old library, it is held within the Dragon’s Teeth, in the Temple of Dreaming,” Liminus said. His eyes drifted down to the large, musty book he had been recently reading and scanned a few lines. “According to the Annalus Exetorius, it is guarded by a cadre of lesser demons who were bound there by the elder druid before Exetor fell in the War of Breaking. I doubt there are many capable of getting within five leagues of the Key. You will be hard pressed to gain entry to the temple, even with the use of your magics.”
"I have no choice in the matter. I am the strongest of us. I will do whatever I have to do to prevent the worlds from being reunited. You know as well as I that it may well mean death for us all if that should come to pass," she said, her cobalt eyes glimmering with determination. "Ready my horse."
Two hundred leagues to the west Veldrin Descanreux sat quietly upon a hillside overlooking the recent battlefield, ruminating over the day's events. He could hear the militia regulars celebrating their victory in the nearby encampment, but he felt no urge to join in their revelry. He felt elated to be victorious, to have crushed his enemy and driven them from the field, but it was a kind of joy far removed from that of the militiamen. For those men today had signified a triumphant end to a long and bloody war, an end to soldiering and a return to their former lives as farmers, artisans, or merchants. For Veldrin it was a testament to his ever-increasing prowess and an opportunity to hone his skills. It was another chance to dance upon the razor's edge, to spit into the face of death.
His father had been weak. He was killed in a bandit raid when Veldrin was still a small boy. He had tried to protect his family and his farm but had failed at both and lost his life while his son looked on in horror. They burned the farm and ravished his mother for days before they tired of her and moved on to other sport, leaving him and his mother with no food or money and forced to beg at the home of a local lord who, thankfully, took her on as a scullery maid. Neither he nor his mother had ever spoken of it again, but he had vowed at that early age to become so strong that no man could ever take what was his. Especially not his life.
Even at such a young age Veldrin had been a fighter, but he had never been one to bully those who were weaker than he was. On the contrary, he would seek out the largest and meanest of the children in his village and challenge them to fights. In the beginning he rarely won and was scolded many times by his mother for coming home bloody and bruised, but as time went by it was usually he that had the upper hand. The other children began to fear him and would flatly refuse to fight, even running away when he confronted them. This did not deter him. He merely moved on to fighting men.
From fistfights with the other children to brawls with the grown men of the village and duels with professional soldiers, he progressed in skill and prowess until none in his village or any of the villages nearby could match him. He left his homeland and went from kingdom to kingdom selling his services as a guard, a mercenary, and more than once as an assassin. He competed in tournaments of arms in lands whose names he could not pronounce, where they spoke tongues so foreign he couldn’t even mimic the sounds. He devoted his life to becoming a consummate warrior. The ultimate killing machine.
It was a long road that had brought him to this place. A road paved in courage and blood. He was fearless now, possessed of an inner strength that was without peer. It had cost him his family, whom he had not seen in many years, and it had cost him his innocence. It had cost him many of the joys that other men might know, but he had finally found the strength that he so fervently desired. He did not yet know, but he was about to be offered the greatest opportunity he would ever have to test it.
The sound of movement through the tall grass behind him intruded upon his reminiscence, snapping him alert. Quickly sliding his broadsword free from the sheath upon his back, he rolled forward and turned to face whatever was approaching. To his surprise it was a woman, clad in long flowing red robes and astride a roan that from its frothing nostrils had obviously been ridden hard. She had dark olive skin and wavy copper hair that hung just below her shoulders, and piercing blue eyes that seemed wise beyond their years. He guessed her to be somewhere in her late twenties but the way she carried herself exuded confidence and maturity.
“A noble, perhaps,” he thought, “but what would bring a
woman of her apparent standing to a battlefield? And why is she here on the hill when the army makes camp in the valley to the north?” His hands flexed instinctively on the grip of his broadsword as he crouched into a defensive posture. “Hail, lady,” he said, bowing slightly but keeping his eyes locked on hers “What brings you to such a place as this? A battlefield is no place for a woman. If you are searching for someone, or bringing news, the Hopli encampment is to the north. If it’s the Dryvians you seek, you’re out of luck as they have all been killed or driven from the field.”
“I seek neither, Veldrin Descanreux. I am here to speak with you. I have a…proposition for you. One that may prove very rewarding if we come to an accord,” she said, looking him up and down appraisingly. “I need a strong man, a skilled fighter. It has come to my attention that you are both. You fought well today, ser.”
“I am not, nor do I wish to be, a knight. I have no title but that given to me at my birth. Since it seems that you already know it, call me by my name. I would ask you courteously, milady, to give me yours and explain how it is that you know of me,” said Veldrin. He was tense and prepared to spring if her answer was not to his liking. He was not fond of being spied upon, and the circumstances of their meeting were becoming more disconcerting by the minute.
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This 102 word review has not been unlocked.
Your writing style seems fine to me. There aren’t any issues that stand out as far as I can see. I would tell you to be careful; however, on how often you use words like “the” within a single sentence. You’ve done that in several beginning paragraphs. Watch for that because it can make a reader stumble.
Also, the story in itself seems to run on too many cliches within the fantasy genre: the names of places such as “Dragon’s Teeth”, “War of Breaking” (reminds me of The Breaking of the World in “The Wheel of Time”), the title “Sword and Sorcery”. Somebody trying to break through a barrier reminds me of Terry Goodkind’s novels. There’s already so much of the same thing within fantasy. Try to make your story stand out.
Other than the aforementioned issues, the story was pleasant to read and you write very well.
I wish you luck with the rest of it.
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I think you have a very nice piece of fantasy here, it just needs cleaned up a little. Your narrative was very descriptive of the people and movement, but I felt that it needed more on the setting in general. Make the reader see it. Put them in the story with your words.
The characters were warm and believable. I especially enjoyed the warrior, I think that you captured him well.
The formatting needs some change. Separate the dialogue from the narrative. In a story with as much going on as this one has, it will help with the flow of things. The last thing that you want, is for anything to slow the reader down. Keep them moving. Great start, and good luck.
He definitely has the skill required to serve as the guardian.
this line for personal opinion i would have said.
He definitely seems to have the skill required to serve as the guardian.
the reason why is because I see that you are looking for some one in the next couple lines so to show that you are looking i put it so.
and here
To his surprise it was a woman, clad in long flowing red robes and astride a roan
is how i see it should be to describe what it is.
To his surprise it was a woman, clad in long flowing red robes and astride a roan horse.
You fought well today, ser
i do not know if that is intentional for you have using a language in the book
its just Sir
one typo i see.
other than that it is well plotted.
You’ve got very vivid descriptions of Veldrin and Ayendva there – I could visualise the both of them very clearly (Veldrin reminds me of Vin Diesel ;)). I think there’s nothing wrong with your dialogue and you shouldn’t get so hung up about it. It’s appropriate for a Sword-and-Sorcery novel, and it has a necessary formality considering that everyone is speaking to Ayendva, who seems like a noblewoman. You’ve got a good start and I would certainly be interested in reading more. Good luck
’...think, but…’ I suggest putting a period after think and starting a new sentence with To.
‘The Council of…at peace.’ – This sentence is to long and sort of hard to understand, I can’t offer you a different way of writing it because I’m not sure how Maegi works.
’...spit into the…’ – Omit into and just write ‘in’.
ser.” did you mean ‘sir’
Overall this is a pretty good story. A lot of the dilaogue is a lot to take in and I had to re read it a few times to understand. I don’t know how you could change this though and I understand that as this is not reality, it is going to need to be explained.
Well done
I enjoyed the archaic usage of dialog. To me, it sounded natural. The story is very interesting. I did have trouble keeping up with all the names. You might give more description on Liminus through Ayendva’s point of view. I really enjoyed the prologue. Even though the main character is a mercernary, we’ll enjoy him even more becoming the unlikely hero. Nice action-packed intro. Here’s some suggestions:
Deleted because it clutters & slows down action, and some adj’s repeats the verb or noun:
The man in black charged recklessly(delete) forward….
Blood sprayed copiously(delete) from the freshly(delete) cleaved skull of his latest…
He did not know (or care to know)... Reword, try: He did not know or care to know… (keeps reader in story flow)
...the perfect man for the job. (Very mondern, takes out of your archaic style.) Try something like: ...the perfect warmonger.
Ayendva gazed… I like the start of this first chapter and what Ayendva says about the mercenary.
the man before,(delete comma) when he served…
Ayendva said worriedly. (show Ayendva’s worried appearance, wringing hands, rubbing arms, pacing, etc. Try not to use adj’s or adv’s in dialog tags.)
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