Durr I don’t know why I put incapacitated I knew it was decapitated, thanks for pointing that out though. Thanks for the praise, I really appreciate the kind words.
Novel Treatments / The War of Kings: The Three Companies
Octavius’ ivory steed galloped through the battle lines with unrivaled ferocity. He swung his sword in an underhand fashion as he rode through, slicing through the soft leather armor Darius’ forces bore. The hardened leather gave little defense against the fine craftmanship of his blade. Before he could reach the hilltop, an arrow buried itself deep in the neck of his horse. It bucked wildly, throwing him off and sending him crashing into the earth.
He rose to his feet with blurred vision caused by the impact. After shaking his head a few times, his vision began to return to its normal state. That is when his eyes locked with Darius’. The commander of the Estar Company, Darius Wolbane, stood firm in the midst of the chaos happening around him. Octavius gripped the hilt of his broadsword while maintaining his death-locked sight on Darius.
Darius Wolbane was a towering giant, standing roughly six foot seven inches in height and a build of nearly complete, rock solid muscle. Tales had been always been half-whispered of the warrior across the lands of Tymerille. Octavius could account that almost everyone of these were now confirmed to be true.
The Estarian warrior donned a blackened steel breastplate with the insignia of the Elstar Company in the center. A grayish wolf pelt was draped around his neck and down his back; there was no doubt in Octavius’ mind it was killed by Darius’ bare hands. On top of his head rested a winged helmet; massive horns protruding from the sides with a crown of claws circling the top of the helmet. Darius drew an enormous claymore from his back and held it in front of his body, stepping back with his right foot to secure a strong footing.
Octavius unsheathed his broadsword, holding it parallel to the earth. The ivory encased hilt met an amazing sparkle from the steel of his blade. The broadsword he carried was forged from the finest metals in all of Tymerille, by the finest Elven crafters in all of the kingdom. He moved in toward Darius, warey of his position. A man of Octavius’ stature was at an obvious disadvantage; his five foot nine inch, medium build to Darius’ near-immortal frame. Octavius stepped back with his right foot and quickly lunged forward, thrusting the sword toward Darius’ belly.
Darius met this manuever with a quick parry; only someone his size could parry with a claymore the way most swordsmen could a rapier. He brought his massive arms back, circling around his head and sweeping toward Octavius. Lucky for him, Octavius was quick and able to disengage from the swing. The locomotive motion had begun with Darius’ first swing, and a flurry of sword sweeps followed. Octavius met each swipe with a parry, nearly losing his sword to the immense power each time the blades crashed together.
He circled Darius, fighting him with a mixture of well planned attacks. First a thrust, followed by a swipe at the giant. The small size of his body began to put him at a slight advantage once he realized it was fairly simple to dodge Darius’ attacks. Darius’ lunged toward Octavius, gripping his sword-hand with one arm and delivering a powerful blow to his face with the other. Octavius flew back and to the ground, rolling bakcwards and losing his sword.
He rolled out of the way as a claymore chop struck the dirt, lodging the sword into the dirt and buying Octavius precious seconds. He stood up and rolled forward toward his broadsword, careful to scoop it with his hand as he completed the manuever. After reaching the upright position, he planted his foot and turned sharply about to face his opponent. He brought his sword back to eye level and lunged at Darius who had just freed his claymore. Darius spun around and swung up toward the air with his sword, slicing through Octavius’ armor and sending him back into the ground once more.
He lifted his head to inspect his chest and was relieved to know that he was still alive. He tucked his legs up and rolled backwards, standing upright, locking eyes with Darius once more. With his left hand, Octavius gripped the collar of his white breastplate and tugged it free. He tossed it to the ground, now bare chested and even more vulnerable to the onslaught of sword attacks.
Octavius rushed at Darius, swinging his broadsword with unbridled ferocity. Darius tried to parry the strikes, but with every enraged swing Octavius came closer and closer to his target. After several swings, he switched to a lunge and buried his broadsword into Darius’ stomach. Darius delivered an elbow to his face, sending him staggering backwards away from the warrior. Darius gripped the broadsword that was now lodged in his belly, gazing at it precariously. He gripped the hilt and slowly pulled it free from the softened flesh where it was held. He turned and faced Octavius, tossing the sword to the dirt.
He raised his claymore and began to charge toward him, a firm expression of rage overtook Darius’ face. He frantically scanned the ground for a weapon of defense, but there seemed to be nothing. He spotted a javelin and sprinted toward it as Darius quickly gained ground on him. His heavily armored boots skidded across the dirt while he bent down to pick up the javelin. He gripped it tightly and looked to his right; it was now or never.
Octavius threw the javelin with all his fury, it was no longer up to him to determine his fate. The javelin soared through the air, impervious to judging the victor. Suddenly Darius stopped running and the shouting subsided. Octavius peered through his clenched eyelids to see Darius drop to his knees. The long spear device extended out of Darius’ throat and through the backside.
Darius dropped his claymore he had behind his head. His eyes were scorned with pain and dialated with shock. He walked over to the stunned warrior who was now gargling on the blood trying to make its escape through his wound. He pikced up the claymore and stood before Darius, studying him with utmost caution. Octavius drew the claymore back, barely able to control its massive weight. He swung the claymore around his right side, lopping Darius’ head clean from his shoulders. The incapacitated head rolled across the field, bouncing off the imperfections in the soil before resting next to a tower shield from one of Octavius’ men. Darius’ body slumped over to the side, an ocean of crimson red pooled beside the legendary fighter. Lore spoke of a man who would take out Darius, but never did Octavius think it spoke of him.
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solarflare reviewed Version 1 -
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I thought you did a very good job with this part of the story. It was well written, and very descriptive. The story sounds like it would be a good read and I’m sorry to hear that it is dead.
Anyway good work with your part.
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February 08, 2007
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Strong start! Good active voice. With only a few words, you’ve opened with an exciting battle scene. Your verbal imagery is strong. The reader gets swept up in the fight. I almost want to duck now and again.
A few issues on sentence structure;
‘The hardened leather gave little defense against. . .’ This sentence is redundant. The sentence before clearly tells us how ineffective the leather armor is against Octavia’s’ sword (any relationship to Dr. Octopus?).
‘. . . his vision began to return to its. . .’ little wordy. Maybe; ‘. . .his vision returned. . .’
‘Tales had been always been half-whispered. . .’ Oops! Typo, I presume. ‘Tales were half whispered. . .’
‘. . .there was no doubt in Octavius’ mind it was killed by Darius’ bare hands.’ Wordy again. Maybe try; ‘no doubt killed by Darius’ bare hands.’ We already know it’s Oct who’s thinking.
‘The small size of his body began. . .’ Sorry, wordy again; ‘His small size (or stature) gave him a slight. . .’
‘. . .his chest and was relieved to know that he was still alive.’ Same problem; ‘. . .his chest, relieved to know he was alive (kind of obvious, maybe – ‘not seriously injured’)’.
‘. . .swings, he switched to a lunge and buried. . .’ This is the climax of the fight. Make it stronger; ‘. . . swings he lunged and buried. . .’
Overall, this story carries the reader along nicely. Try to simplify some of your sentences, as suggested above. Read aloud, if it sounds awkward, it.
I’m not a big fan of fantasy but I like this. Great job! I suggest you get resurrect the project.
tyrionstark reviewed Version 1 -
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You definately have a good writer’s vision for the scene, but a few things should be addressed if you were looking to rewrite.
1 – Vary the sentence length. Most of the sentences here are roughly the same length and that can easily make a reader lose interest.
2 – I know this is an epic fight, but try to avoid the temptation to use so many ‘epic’ words. “unrivaled ferocity”, “near-immortal”, “unbridled ferocity”,” legendary fighter” they don’t really add too much.
3 – Using the characters’ names too often can be tiring to the reader.
4 – War is not fun. There is dirt, screams, blood, pain, suffering, despair and shock. Let the ‘hero’ become ‘heroic’ dont describe him as heroic.
If you havent read George. R.R. martin’s ”Song of Ice and Fire” series yet, I strongly suggest you go pick them up. He is the ultimate example (in my opinion) of someone who can bring heroism onto a battlefield and still stay true to the fact that battles are not fun.
Your enthusiasm for the subject is obvious, and I’d love to read another draft of this.
ConnorMacleod reviewed Version 1 -
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Fantastic fight scene. The descriptions were vivid. You wrote it as if you were actually there, watching the fight, it was great.
The structure is a little choppy and the grammar off a little, some extra words that aren’t needed, but, if the project is dead and you aren’t doing anything with it, that is inconsequential.
When Darius’ head was severed, the word to use is decapitated, not incapacitated.
Great work for one so young.
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