The Rogue Ranger

The Golem · Oct 5, 2016

Dropping some critique for ya, fellow aspiring writer

One thing I enjoyed was how you described the people's movements; they were fluid and believable. You described well how people behaved and gave them life.

I also enjoyed the way you paced it. There was no immediate thrust into the action, yet there was some amount of tension. I've seen many times where authors take too long placing unnecessary details, or try to force you into accepting the urgency. It was a natural pace.

One thing I think you could improve on, however, is the description of the tent. You explained the local characters very well, but there was little to no description on the tent.

Overall this was well written. I am already interested in this character simply because of how well you wrote it. I'll likely drop some more points later if you continue, since critique is better than a "do more" rating.

Aespair · Oct 5, 2016

The Golem said:
One thing I think you could improve on, however, is the description of the tent. You explained the local characters very well, but there was little to no description on the tent.

Right-o. I have noticed that I tend to neglect describing the setting, but I'll pay special attention to it in the next post. Thanks for the critique!

Gabauchi · Oct 5, 2016

The Golem said:
One thing I think you could improve on, however, is the description of the tent. You explained the local characters very well, but there was little to no description on the tent.

The tent didn't seem particularly important. Characterizing it would've been a bit of a filler.

But yeah this was really good, and I'd totally read the rest. (Also, bro

Aespair said:
;

Niiiice)

Pretty cool that you're doing a series, if you go into writing you'll probably do well.

Brobbey · Oct 12, 2016

Great writing skills!

Aespair · Oct 12, 2016

Chapter 2 - The Orc Raid
Rosaria woke up early in the morning, inspecting the inside of the rough tent to look for what had disturbed her. In the early morning light, the details were uncertain, though she had seen it as many times as she needed to know it by heart. It was their house tent, of course. Off to one side of her bed, Rennyn was sound asleep in his makeshift bed, though he was only two years old at the time. There was no carpet or wooden floor; the grass of the valley greeted their feet every time they walked about the tent. Opposite to the bed was the tent-flap entrance, and on each side of the foot of the bed were small end tables; one for Kyrtaar and one for Rosaria.

As she thought of Kyrtaar, she realized that he wasn't lying with her as he normally did, but was conversing with another Avanthar in quiet voices just outside the tent. It was unusual, but not unheard of. She figured they had just received another package of the Cielothar goods that were produced by a neighboring village.

Kyrtaar walked back into the tent and rummaged through his end table instead of going back to bed. He retrieved a white sleeveless shirt made of wool, and black pants of the same material. Sliding them on silently, he was soon ready for whatever adventure he planned on going on; all that remained to be done was to put on his black leather boots and saddle his horse.

"What are you doing?" Rosaria asked, brushing her eyes, "It can't be more than the fifth hour, why don't you come back to bed?"

Kyrtaar looked up from his end table to his wife before answering her, "We've got word of another Orc raid on the Cielothar. I'm going to go help."

Rosaria sighed, knowing that Kyrtaar had to go but still wanting him to stay nevertheless, "Do you have to? After all, they won't notice if you're not there once out of the hundred times you've gone."

"I do. It's not about the supplies, but that I know I should help. If I don't, I'll feel guilty," he paused, then added with a slight smile, "And we also won't receive those blankets you're so fond of."

Forcing a smile on her face, she gave in, "Alright. But only for the blankets. We don't want poor Rennyn to be cold, now do we?"

Kyrtaar laughed, turning his head to his son as the boy was mentioned. It was obvious that the child wouldn't miss extra blankets; in fact, less blankets may have actually done him some good. From the angle Kyrtaar was looking, it appeared as if the child was buried under the large mounds of comfort.

With that, Kyrtaar left the tent, letting his eyes adjust as he entered into the slightly brighter morning light. Turning to his horse, the Avanthar saddled it and made sure he had all of the essential supplies that he needed. Finally, he removed his bow from where it had been leaning on a nearby table (they normally ate outside) and retrieved his ax from one of the saddlebags. After he strung the bow and strapped it to his back, he clipped the ax onto the rough belt that he had, then he mounted his horse and waited for the rest of the anti-raid crew to arrive.

The part of the valley that he lived in was very close-knit and community centered; everyone knew each other and were normally great friends. As a result, the neighboring tents weren't more than fifty feet away from Kyrtaar's, and a lot of them were nearly identical to his own tent. The grass of the valley was always a lush green, and the nearby mountains watched over the valley as if they were guardians. It was in this thought that Kyrtaar realized he was a very lucky man, just before he was interrupted by the other Avanthar.

There were five in total, all of them men. They all had differing clothes from each other, though four out of the five were shirtless. For the variety of clothes, there was an opposite similarity in their weapons. Every single one of them had the same type of weapons that Kyrtaar had: a bow, arrows, and a small, handheld ax.

"Kyrtaar!" one of them called as they neared him, "You ready?"

Kyrtaar had no need to shout as the first Avanthar did, as they had just pulled up next to him. "Yes," he said as he prepped his reins, "Are all of you ready?"

"Aye," they chorused.

Taking it as an invitation to get going, Kyrtaar nudged the sides of his horse with his toes, quickly gaining speed as the horse galloped through the remaining parts of the tent village. Of course, his friends weren't far behind him as they followed him on the well-known path to the Cielothar village. The section of the path that was nearer to the Avanthar tent city was more dirt than it was road, while the Cielothar section was more civilized and contained a more cobblestone-like look to it.

The sight of the Cielothar village from where they arrived truly was a horror; smoke was rising from the houses and some were visibly on fire, all while a group of four Orcs were tearing their way through it. One of them had their hands on a small Cielothar child before Kyrtaar decided it was time to take action.

"Try to draw them away from the village! Follow my lead, I know exactly where to take them," he called to his comrades, urging his horse forward yet again.

He could see his friends firing shots at the Orcs through the corners of his eyes, though he could tell that they weren't exactly hitting their targets. Nocking an arrow to the bowstring, he pulled it back to full-draw before sending the arrow on its way toward the Orc that was going to kill the child.

Kyrtaar knew it would hit its target as soon as it left his bowstring. The Orc reared his head back and released the child as the arrow pierced the Orc's abdomen, clutching onto his gut as he turned his enraged eyes onto Kyrtaar. After he saw the child rush into a nearby house, he taunted the Orc in Common, hoping the insult would not be lost on the Orc.

Kyrtaar described what he thought of the Orc's mother in great detail, hoping that there wasn't anything special about Orc's that made the taunt any less insulting. Judging by the reaction the Orc gave, Kyrtaar assumed he was right before sending his horse on its way at a slower pace. Occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure the green assortment of muscle was still chasing him, he found himself on the plain in question with all of his comrades not far behind.

The plain was devoid of any healthy grass, instead covered with a sick yellow and dirt. Kyrtaar knew this, of course. He believed that it was better for everyone included if bloodshed took part on land that wouldn't stain the beauty of the country, which meant any land that was already ugly. It wasn't so much a plain as it was a clearing; the surrounding trees covered everywhere outside of the sixty foot radius circle and the small entrance that the Orcs were lead through.

As he turned his horse in a preparation to cleave the Orc's head from its shoulders, he noticed that one of his friends was having trouble with a different Orc. In fact, he realized, his friend was only seconds from death as the Orc raised its battleaxe in a start of what would be certain death for the Avanthar.

Taking his ax from his belt, Kyrtaar brought his horse closer to the struggle so he would have a higher chance of hitting the Orc. However, in doing so, he inevitably brought himself within range of the original Orc's massive club, and was only able to send the ax on its way to the other Orc before he was knocked clean off of his horse.

Kyrtaar had always wondered just how strong an Orc could be, but he had always hoped he would never find out. The reality of it was a lung-shattering blow that sent him multiple feet into the air before landing on the ground with a terrifying thud. He didn't know if he had broken any ribs, but he didn't have the mental capacity at that point in time to care; everything he knew was fading in and out of existence, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the Orc came to finish him.

Stumbling to his feet, Kyrtaar attempted to run from the Orc that was currently sauntering toward him in an easy manner. As he turned, he noticed that his ax had hit and his comrade was hacking at the now-wounded Orc with his own ax. It was a relieving thought that he was able to save his friend, even if it came at the cost of a few broken ribs.

The thought was cut short as the Orc's club slammed into his back, sending him another few feet forward, but this time he knew he wasn't getting up. He rolled onto his back, waiting for the final blow to end it all.

Curiously enough, it never came. He thought he heard the hum of a flying arrow seconds before a massive crash that raised a large amount of dirt, but he couldn't be sure. The Avanthar he had saved was suddenly hunching over him, inspecting his wounds and saying things to him.

"It's alright," the man said, his voice wavering, "We'll get you back to the Cielothar. They have healers."

Kyrtaar shook his head, gasping for air, "It's too late, don't worry about me."

"Have you lost your mind? This is a minor wound, and that's an exaggeration," he said, but even as he said it, he knew that Kyrtaar was right.

"Watch my son grow up, will you?" Kyrtaar asked weakly as he felt his life leaving him, figuring it was about time he made some requests, "Teach him our duty to the Cielothar, and tell him the good that comes from it. I don't know what he'll be like, but if Estel is merciful, he'll be a right smart one, he will."

And with that, Kyrtaar died. It could be argued that his body had more life in it than the plain that he died in, so the Avanthar, named Ralikanthrae of Alarenes, brought Kyrtaar's body back to the valley. There, Kyrtaar had a proper funeral and was mourned, but he was never forgotten, not even by his son.

Chapter 3 will be posted on 10/19/2016

Gabauchi · Oct 12, 2016

Aespair · Oct 19, 2016

Chapter 3 will be delayed by a few more days because of myself being a bit more busy than I usually am this week.

Aespair · Nov 29, 2016

eh why not

Aespair · Nov 29, 2016

Chapter 3 - Determination
The sound of horse hooves hitting compact dirt filled the valley as Rennyn rode back to his home tent. He was riding his mount, Rii'keia-- a small horse of a common Avanthar breed. She wasn't very strong but she was fast, and that's what Rennyn liked her for. She was a deep brown with a few white spots strewn about her, and there was something about riding her that made Rennyn feel special. It made him feel free, free that he could go anywhere or do anything.

Rennyn himself was wearing a simple pair of deerskin leggings, a frequent article to be found among the Avanthar. His chest was bare, and his head was adorned with a decent amount of chocolate colored hair. The quiver strung across his back showed how adept he was at archery; most students were to turn in their arrows after they were done training for the day. In fact, those very classes were why he was puzzled.

They always told him he was above his class with the bow, but for an unknown reason today they had been rather cold and concerned about him. What worried him was that he had been dismissed early to see his mother, and he just wanted to continue training. He figured his mother would be fine on her own for a few more hours, just as she always was.

Of course, that left the question of whether something happened to her or not. Rennyn's father had died when Rennyn was just a young boy, and he dreaded that something similar should happen to his mother. Still, he figured with an ounce of hope, if the worst had happened to his mother, his teachers would have told him. And even then, they wouldn't know faster than he would have known. After all, Rennyn had just conversed with his mother that very morning.

Rennyn heaved a sigh of relief as he turned the final corner and saw his mother outside of their tent, hanging up some clothes to dry. He dismounted Rii'keia and tethered her to the fencepost that was planted outside of their tent before going to see his mother. He wanted to find out what the problem was as quick as he could so he could get back to training.

"Mum!" he called as he walked toward her, a worried look on his face, "The Prota'll told me to leave early to come see you. Is something wrong?"

Rosaria looked up from her laundry, smiling as Rennyn walked over. She was surprised he hadn't figured out the cause for his summoning already. Turning toward him, she put the clothes down for the moment and prepared to tell him why he had been sent back here so early. Half of her was tempted to bluff it out just to see how Rennyn reacted, but she was far too kind to allow that sort of behavior.

"Nothing is wrong, Ren," she started, hugging him as he got close enough, "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Mum," Rennyn replied with genuine affection for his mother, relieved that he hadn't done anything wrong yet.

"The Prota'll have decided they can't teach you anymore-" she began.

"What?! So there is something wrong!" Rennyn exclaimed, the worry back on his face.

But his mother was shaking her head, "No. They can't teach you anymore because you're too skilled, even for them. You've surpassed the standards that they'd hold for graduating students, and so they decided to let you off early rather than keep you in the class, afraid that it would only dull your skill."

Now Rennyn was confused, feeling the tips of the arrows in his quiver as his skill was mentioned, "But Mum, I'm not much better than most the others in the class," he reasoned, "Surely they're mistaken."

"The Prota'll are never mistaken. Believe me," she started, then caught her lip as she almost let out something, then decided to say it anyway, "They let me into the training ground a few days ago to watch you, and you were planting every single one of those arrows in the bullseye within a finger's breadth of each other."

Rennyn blushed at the praise, but still Rosaria continued, "So, I'd like for you to go talk to Ralikanthae and see what he has to say. But please, for the love of Estel, don't take everything he says seriously. I heard one of his ideas he had for you, and I don't think everything is quite right with that man."

Rennyn laughed, glad that the discussion had veered to a different subject, "Sure thing, Mum. I'll be back later, then."

Then his mother gave him a very cryptic message, something he'd never forget, even in old age, "Take a few coins and food with you, just in case you actually listen to that madman. You'll have to hurry if you do, though, as there's not much time left to go through with it. I love you, Rennyn."

Rennyn spent a few moments to get further clarification on what she meant, but she insisted that he go see Ralikanthae first. Finally, he bid farewell to his mother and set off onto the road with Rii'keia. He traveled only a little over a hundred feet to Ralikanthae's tent, but in his anxious and excited state, the trip felt like hours.

Dismounting Rii'keia and tethering her, he knocked on the tent flap. Ralikanthae was an old friend of his father's, he knew, but the man had always seemed like an enigma to him. Ralikanthae was kind, yet he always seemed withdrawn whenever he was around Rennyn, which lead Rennyn to believe that he thought the boy was a miscreant. As a result, Ren was quite a bit nervous as he stood at the entrance to the tent.

"Come in," came the gruff voice of Ralikanthae, and in Rennyn went.

The inside of the tent was simplistic, with only the bare essentials present. An end table was at the end of the cot and the cot was decorated with rough, brown blankets. There were no decorations like tapestries or paintings upon the walls, and there wasn't a floor; Rennyn's feet were met by the same grass he had seen outside.

Ralikanthae was sitting on his cot, reading a book written in Elvish. He put the book down as Rennyn entered, and he prepared to let the boy in on his plans, "So," he started, "Your mother tells me you're a deadshot with the bow, is this true?"

Rennyn, afraid that Ralikanthae thought he had been boasting, was quick to attempt to dispel that rumor, "It's just motherly love. I'm afraid I couldn't-"

"Shut up," Ralikanthae interrupted, cutting Rennyn off, "I've seen you, and I don't care for modesty. Now listen. Your father was nearly as good with the bow as you are, and he saved my life with those same skills. The problem was, he wasn't quite good enough as he needed to be in order to save his own life."

Rennyn hurried to disagree, but Ralikanthae held up a hand and continued in a gentler tone, "This may sound harsh, but it's true. I don't want the same to happen to you, so I'm throwing a bit of an axe into your proverbial Orc. I think you should cancel the plans you've made up your entire life and travel to Daenshore, where you'll get a boat to Regalia and find someone who can train you even more there. Then, when you think you're done and ready to come back, you do that, and we'll be happy to see you."

Rennyn opened his mouth then closed it again, unsure of how to respond, as it all felt so sudden. Desperately looking for a loophole, he started, "But how are you so sure I'll find someone in Regalia?"

But Ralikanthae was prepared for that, and he held up his index finger as he explained, "Regalia is the capital of the Regalian Empire. Most of the nobles there have money enough to employ their own military. By my reasoning, they have more opportunities for fine-tuning their skills than we do, so I think it would be beneficial for you to employ yourself under one of them in return for a roof over your head and some archery classes."

The young Avanthar took in all of the information, shocked at how reasonable and rational Ralikanthae was being, as he was previously unaware that the man was this intelligent. As he pondered the opportunity, he wondered what his mother would want for him. She had implied that she thought Ralikanthae was crazy, but at the same time, she gave him food and money for the journey. Perhaps, he thought, his mother wanted him to go with the plan.

And then, on an impulse, Rennyn started speaking, "I'll do it," he said, "And I'll prove to you when I get back that my father's blood is capable of anything."

Ralikanthae nodded to himself, approving of the boy's words, "Then get going, kid. Daenshore's that way," he said, pointing in the general direction of the Ailor port.

Caught up in the heat of the moment, Rennyn rushed out of the tent, jumping atop Rii'keia as she was grazing. Spurring her into action, he set off for Daenshore, sharing just how excited he was to go to Regalia with his attentive horse. The journey to the harbor was a few hours long, and that gave him a while to think about Regalia and the people therein. What if he didn't manage to find a noble willing to hire him? What if nobody there was skilled enough to train him? What if the ship sunk on the way there? There were so many uncertainties, and Rennyn couldn't help but be nervous about it all. He wondered if it wasn't too late to turn back around and go home, but he shook the thought out of his head. Ralikanthae and his mother would think him a fool if he did, and he dreaded that more than anything.

As he neared Daenshore, the sun was starting to sink under the horizon, and he rode Rii'keia to the coast of the city to inquire about the prices and times that the ships were leaving. He found out that the next ship to Regalia was leaving the following morning, and that he could get passage there for about thirty regals. It was a close run thing, he thought, as his mother had only given him thirty-five. In the end, he bought the ticket and paid five extra regals for Rii'keia to come with him, then he road her back to the edge of the city and set up camp. He'd spent many nights before like that, with his head resting against Rii'keia's sleeping body and his own body covered with his traveling bedclothes. He was content with his lot in life, and he fell asleep pondering about the uncertainty of his future, once again.

The next morning, he rubbed his eyes as he woke up from a fitful sleep. He looked up at the sky to judge the time of day, and he figured it was a little more than an hour from when he was scheduled to leave. Mounting Rii'keia, resolving to eat breakfast on the boat, he set off for the harbor. He cursed as he realized he may have woken up too late to board the ship, and in his haste, he nearly got on the wrong boat. It was all written on the signs in common, but he didn't read common. As he boarded the boat, seconds before he was scheduled to leave, the captain took a quick look at his ticket and let him aboard, tying his horse up below deck while Rennyn got situated.

The boat was a light brig with about fifteen other passengers on board with him. It had a trio of masts adorned with white sails, and a young boy remarked how nice the ship looked to him. Unfortunately, Rennyn was homesick and in no mood to talk, so he went below deck and laid out his bed mat, then decided to catch a few hours of sleep to pass the time. Perhaps then he wouldn't feel so miserable about leaving the place he had lived his entire life.

Two days later, Rennyn was on deck looking out over the ocean when land was spotted. It brightened his rather dull morning, and he was excited to see how spectacular Regalia really was. Over the past two days, Rennyn had felt much better about leaving Daendroc than he did before, reasoning to himself that it was for the greater good.

As the ship pulled into harbor, Rennyn stepped onto the docks, thankful for dry land under his feet once more. As Rii'keia was led off the boat, Rennyn took her for a ride to give her the exercise she had missed the past few days. As he looked around, he felt a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach. The city, or town, more like it, that he had landed in was very small and quiet, hardly what he'd expect Regalia to be.

Arching his neck to see an old baker, Rennyn asked if he was truly in Regalia, and the baker's next words confirmed his worst fears: "Naw," the baker started, "This here's Anglia."

Mekking1 · Dec 1, 2016

Aespair said:
Most of the nobles there have money enough to employ their own military.

I know House Solidor's got one, lol

The Rogue Ranger

The Golem

chiken nugge

Aespair

Am I the only one here?

Gabauchi

Goblin Babe (Local Hotsexy)

Brobbey

Aespair

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Gabauchi

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Aespair

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Aespair

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Aespair

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Mekking1

If specified, this will replace the title that dis

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