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Is it even worth it anymore?
Before I start, I just want to tell you that this is kind of a fanfic for TES: IV Oblivion, by the way. 'Kind of' meaning that it's set in the same world, but the main characters aren't really dealt with. If this thread doesn't belong here because of that, please tell me. Anyway.
I wrote this a while ago with every intention of actually finishing it, for once. However, while I think it's a pretty good start, I'm already stuck. This happens to me all the time. I edit and edit until it bores me to tears, and I still can't figure out what is wrong with it, but I don't want to abandon it, either, as I feel it may still have some potential...I only ask that you read it and tell me whether or not it'd be worth continuing, and if there is anything I can fix to make it better. Dunmer= dark elf Bretons and Imperials= white men, basically Khajiit= cat-man Sithis, Akatosh= evil and good Gods, respectively Crimson Scars= special assassin 'division', I suppose ___ Sadryn Drathus stifled a giggle and ran stealthily through the sewers, adjusting his magicked pack as he went. He’d said it before; many, many times, and he would most definitely say it again (though preferably over an expensive glass of wine at Dareloth’s Garden); guards were a joke. He’d lost the last one, a scrawny Breton, three tunnels back when the s’wit had tripped on a pile of loose rocks and sprawled onto the ground. He could still hear his cursing and scraping echoing through the sewers. ‘That’s the problem with iron armor,’ the Dunmer thought wryly as he went around a corner, deftly jumping across a narrow sewage duct. ‘It’s damn near impossible to get up once you fall.’ It was a good thing the idiot Breton hadn’t fallen into the canal, he mused, kicking an annoyed mudcrab against a wall before turning left and ducking through a passage. He’d probably have to go fish him out, and that would cause all kinds of trouble in the long run, good intentions be damned. Sadryn reached the end of the passage and paused, getting his bearings. ‘Ok, so if I turn right here and continue on for about fifty yards, I can probably get into the Bloodworks and—‘ “There he is! Get him!” “Oh, shit.” Sadryn looked over his shoulder and then sprinted south along a bridge. Things just weren’t going his way today--a platoon of fresh guards had apparently come down a ladder from the Market District, probably from the entrance in the Main Ingredient's basement, and spotted him while he was distracted; they were now charging him, waving their swords and yelling in true Imperial Guard fashion. ‘Ok, perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to enter the sewers through the Best Defense's basement, after all...' Sadryn sped forward, noting almost abstractedly in his focus the wall ahead of him, coming closer and closer. Every thief that could find his way around the labyrinthine Imperial sewers knew what that meant: either turn around, make the long jump across the canal, or dive into the sewage and swim for it. The Dunmer leaned forward and charged, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his head that told him to drop his cargo and go home. 'I really should have stayed in bed this morning!’ He was reaching the edge of the pathway, now. The gap, which must have spanned six feet across, seemed like a mile as he prepared to leap. By that token, the ledge on the other side seemed to only be six inches long. He yanked his backpack higher onto his shoulders, held his breath, and jumped—but he was a few seconds too late. One of the guardsmen behind him had paused and drawn his bow, loosing an arrow that hit Sadryn in the left shoulder with a metallic twang. The force of the blow spun him in the air and he missed the ledge by two feet. The dazed thief sunk deep into the water, aided by the weight of his oiled leather bag, no thoughts going through his head except for one fervently repeated mantra: ‘Thank Akatosh it’s clean, thank Akatosh it’s clean!’ Sadryn shook himself as he settled onto the bottom of the shadowy canal and cast a spell of Water Breathing. He crossed his legs and looked up at the silhouettes of the guardsmen, who were leaning over the water, no doubt looking for his body. The Dunmer chuckled to himself, and then winced. 'Damn!’ The bubbles that came from his laugh rose to the surface of the water and burst, alerting the guards to his continued presence. He watched one of them start to rip off his armor. ‘I’m an idiot.’ The Dunmer stood and yanked the arrow out of his shoulder casually, letting it drift to the surface. “Well, thank Sithis for this armor.” He tapped his Crimson Scar raiment happily. “Waterproof with thick-ass pads everywhere.” He surveyed the guard again and smirked. The poor man seemed to be having some difficulties with pulling off his cuirass, and his companions were now helping him. Sadryn took the time to glance around his watery cell. It appeared to be a storm drain, full nearly to the brim from the torrential rain the Imperial City had been experiencing recently. “It let up a few hours ago, though…” Sadryn mused, gliding over to the center of the drain. “It should be at least half empty by now.” He bent down and examined the grate at the bottom, frowning. “There appears to be some sort of blockage down here…” He poked at the mass of leaves and garbage sticking out of the grate, which was straining upwards. The Mer, after glancing back up at the guards (they appeared to be trying to yank off the man’s boots, now), pulled out one of the less expensive claymores from his enchanted bag and jammed it into the crack between the grate and the stone floor. He backed up and pushed down on the hilt. Murky, iron-tasting water started to leak from it. “C’mon, c’mon…” Sadryn burbled, watching the grate slowly be pushed up, both from the claymore and the objects that were straining to be freed. “C’mon!” The grate finally flew open and the mass of trash flew to the surface, along with a larger, limp object. Sadryn was yanked forward and as the water in the storm drain swirled down the large shaft. He grabbed the open grate as he was sucked into the shaft, knowing that garbage wouldn't stop his pursuers for long. He struggled to pull the grate closed against the force of the swirling water, and finally succeeded. He gripped the iron bars of the grate and pulled himself up, squinting his eyes...something about the way the water tasted when he was prying open the shaft had him suspicious. Above him, the guard leaped into the drain and was immediately hit by the obstruction. The thief's eyes widened in utter shock and he let go of the grate, allowing himself to be pulled down the shaft to what might be his death. He knew what the taste in the water had been. 'Was that a child's body?' The Dunmer knocked his head against the side of the swiftly narrowing shaft and the world went mercifully dark. ____ Yeah. That was pretty bad. Especially that third to last paragraph ("The grate flew..."). Any and all criticism is welcome, as long as it's constructive. :( |
I'm going to move this to the main forum, as that's where short stories belong. People can give you critique there. :yes:
Since this is only set in a fictional universe, and doesn't include characters from said universe, I think it's more appropriate there than in the fanfiction sub. |
Right. Thanks. :XD
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“He’d said it many, many times before and he would…” Quote:
So this takes place after the thieves’ guild quests? Are you going to do anything with the fact that there is a “new” Gray Fox or issues with Nocturne? (Nocturnal? I can’t recall her name.) I’m just curious. Quote:
Again, that’s your call here, but I was just wondering if you thought the same. Quote:
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And goodness this is a very long sentence. Quote:
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I also suggest showing, not telling. Describe the blockage there, you don’t really need Sadryn to tell us. Quote:
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How is the grate being pushed up if he’s pushing down on the claymore? I thought he was pushing the sewage down to clear it? Or is he using it to lever the grate? Quote:
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--- I’m a total sucker for Oblivion, so I love that you’re writing something for it! I hope you do continue it because I’d like to keep reading. I do have some more thoughts about continuing/editing, though. I couldn’t really tell if Sadryn is supposed to be a really good thief or if the guards are just really bad. The guards seem far more… ineffectual than Sadryn seems good. Not that I think that’s necessarily a bad thing, as the guards in-game really were somewhere between really retarded and painfully psychic/determined. But I also got the feeling Sadryn was supposed to seem like a really skilled thief, but because the guards are so ineffectual it makes it seem like anyone could get away from these people. Therefore, Sadryn seems less talented. As far as possibly where to go from here, my first thought would be that the guards captured him and he ended up in jail. The guilds’ procedures for people in jail has always interested me. The thieves’ guild will usually try to get someone out, where as the Dark Brotherhood will simply abandon them. Also, is Sadryn part of the thieves’ guild or the Brotherhood/Crimson Scars? (I don’t remember the Crimson Scars from the game. Did you make them up or are they part of Morrowind?) I only ask because he’s acting like a thief and mentions being able to go to Dareloth’s Garden, but you said Crimson Scars raiment are for assassins? I know in-game you can be part of both guilds, but as a story it doesn’t make much sense since the thieves’ guild doesn’t allow murder and will kick you out for it. And if he did steal raiment, I imagine the assassins aren’t too happy about being stolen from and disrespected like that. It might make for an interesting plot point! I wish you luck with it! |
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