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Post by Aquamarine on Oct 24, 2012 18:30:20 GMT -5
Choose one of the scenarios below and describe how your character would solve the problem in a reply to this thread. Focus on your character's thought process -- how does he or she react to the situation and solve the problem? Get into your character's head and work through the problem from his or her perspective. Your post should have more action (meaning both literal actions and thought, not description) than dialogue.Complete at least one of the scenarios below to earn the Some Assembly Required achievement badge for your profile. If you'd like in-depth critique on this activity, feel free to ask for it. Scenario one. [Dibbun] You've been caught red-pawed stealing from the kitchens while skipping abbeyschool. Evade punishment. Scenario two. [Dibbun] You and a friend are playing on the battlements -- a strictly forbidden area -- when your friend tumbles over the edge and is knocked out from the fall. Get your friend back inside and make sure both of you stay out of trouble. Scenario three. [Adult] There's a vermin gang roaming around Mossflower, and you've had the misfortune of running into them while traveling through the woods. Deal with them or escape and warn the nearby abbey before more trouble comes their way. [Thanks to Lauren Flame Eyes for the activity this was based off of and several scenarios.]
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Zeke Ruffgar
Loyal Dibbun
Right Paw
"Good always wins. Always! Not just in books but in real life."
Posts: 348
Main: Zeke Ruffgar
Alt 1: Tristan
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Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Aug 20, 2013 23:56:17 GMT -5
Figured it was time to do some BP stuff. I didn't think number 3 is feasible for Zeke. Anyway. Here 'tis. _________________ Scenario 1: ** Oh no... Zeke stared at the stained apron in front of him, with angry paws folded across it. Concentrating very intently on his footpaws in order to avoid eye contact with the Friar, he shuffled his weight back and forth; it was impossible not to fidget when in trouble; the angry gaze fixed upon him made standing still highly uncomfortable. The Friar was standing paws akimbo, gesturing angrily as he lectured. Zeke was sure it was very important, but couldn't focus on the words. His mind raced: How'm'I gonna get outta dis? He gulped at the idea of punishment. Would it be endless piles and piles of dirty dishes to clean? Or Abbot’s Report? Or exile? Mebbe if I preten' I dunno what's wrong... Zeke glanced at his paws. Nope, covered in crumbs and berry stains. No plausible deniability there. Lie, say somebeas' tol' me to? The otterkit's fur rose at the idea. He might be an insufferable, incurable scamp, but nobeast could call Ezekiel Slipstream Ruffgar a liar! Besides, the babe couldn't think of a time that lying worked for any other Dibbuns, though it had been tried often enough. The Friar was pointing furiously now; it looked as if his lecture was wrapping up. The guilty Dibbun was running out of time. Tell da truth? The Dibbun nodded his furry head, resolving himself to honesty, despite the fact that admitting to the pie theft, added to being caught dodging Abbey School, would guarantee punishment. Then it hit him. I know!** Weiiiighhhhhhhhhoooooooooooo! **With an earsplitting holler, the naughty otterkit took off like a shot, sprinting past a speechless Friar and fleeing to the safety of the great outdoors.** _________________ Scenario 2: **Giggling quietly, Zeke and the mousebabe clambered up the wallsteps. After every step, they froze and pressed themselves flat on the stair, as if that would make them invisible. The pair glanced about furtively. Only when they were sure, very sure that nobeast was watching did they leap into action, ascending another step and repeating the gesture. Although it looked very comical, this precaution was dead serious; the Dibbuns knew that they could be in a lot of trouble if they were caught on the battlements, or even on the wallsteps, for that matter. But, they had to continue. No other mischief seemed interesting that morning; everything had already been done, and had lost its luster. No, only the battlements held the same mysterious allure, the challenge of the forbidden. The top! Finally! The two Dibbuns shushed each other as they squeaked excitedly, but the battlements were just a bit too high for the diminutive babes to see over. Zeke scowled in frustration. The anticipation built as his dreams of gazing out upon the wonders of the world again eluded him. But soon, all of the answers would be theirs. Zeke and the mousebabe would see the world from high above, their view uninterrupted for miles and miles. They would see the Abbey dwellers as tiny specks below, and be close enough to touch the birds above. From this unparalleled vantage point, the Dibbuns hoped to behold the vast expanse of Mossflower, the mountains to the north, even the Great Sea to the west. Zeke was quite sure that, on a clear day, one could even make out the fabled Salamandastron. All it would take is a little boost to get up on top of those stone parapets. Sure that he was much stronger, the otterkit volunteered to boost the mouse up first. Paws cupped, he grunted as his compatriot used him as a step up to the crenellated edge.** Oof! Oy, matey! Yore so heavy, I kin barely lif' ya! Whatja do, eatta whole Abbey f'r brekkist? **Grunting in his baby treble, the mousebabe had successfully clambered up to the battlement, and was turning to face his cheeky counterpart. It was then that his footpaw slipped over the edge of the parapet. Scrabbling wildly, the paw found no purchase, and began its descent, quickly followed by the rest of the infant as he toppled off of the walltop and into open air.** Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!**Time slowed as Zeke watched his friend fall, transfixed by the horrific scene before him. He grabbed out in desperation, but his paws clutched at empty air as the mousebabe fell, out of sight and out of safety, landing with a sickening whump on the other side of the wall. Zeke tried in vain to peer over the battlements, but, still far too short and far too afraid to climb the parapet after what had just transpired, he could not see his friend.** M- m- m-… matey? **There was no answer. The last quavering note of Zeke’s plaintive squeak faded away. And he began to cry. Quiet sobs racked his small body as he fell backward against the crenellation and slid slowly down, coming to rest in a head on the red sandstone walkway. Plans and dreams poured down the otterkit’s face, forced out of his mind by the stark image of his friend plummeting out of sight. His ears rang with the sound, the crunch of the mousebabe crashing to the ground. It rose to a crescendo, a symphonic din that echoed in his skull, replaying the incident over, and over, and over. A whimper escaped his lips, building to a scream, a wordless cry for help. His thoughts were an empty void, save the mousbabe’s cry, his last, terrified look, his outstretched paws, clutching for a handhold that was not there. And the sound. Zeke started to run. He had to make it somewhere. To the Abbey. To Skipper. To the infirmary sister. The Abbot. His father. Anyone. He turned, the motion sending teardrops flitting off of his fur and into space. Then he slipped, and the sandstone rushed up to meet him. Darkness enveloped the babe, smothering his senses. A welcome release.** ***** **Light. Warmth. And soft. As his senses drifted back to him, Zeke processed his surroundings. What’m I doin’ in the ‘Firmary? Then it all came rushing back. He turned, saw the Infirmary Sister approaching. With his father.** I- I- We- I- He- Wher- Is-? **The incoherent stream tumbled out, and stopped, the vocal river dammed by the tightness in his throat as the tears rose once more. Their words washed over him, the meaning lost. A paw was stroking his headfur, avoiding the large lump that had risen on his forehead. His tears were wiped away, and the sister gave him a cup. When he drank, the world faded.** ***** **As he returned to consciousness, Zeke realized that night had fallen. The infirmary was quiet. He saw his father in a chair, head tucked to his chest as he dozed. The moonlight poured in the window, casting shadows on the walls. He rolled over, wincing as his forehead brushed the pillow. And saw the bed next to his. Lying in it, staring back at him, was the mousebabe. His front paw was across his small chest, wrapped in a sling. But he appeared to be recovering. And he was smiling. He reached out his other paw, closing and opening in the smallest of waves. A smile sprang unbidden to the otterkit’s lips. He would have spoken, but for the blanket of silence that lay heavy over the Infirmary. Timidly, he reached out his own paw, clasping the mousebabe’s.** I saw it all.**The mousebabe’s whispered words crackled with electric excitement, washing away the guilt, the sadness, and the sickening memory. Zeke’s eyes widened, wondering at the thought.** No way, matey. Whatdidja see? **Mouth agape, Zeke drank in the mousebabe’s whispered words, as his friend breathed out his story. As he waxed eloquent on his glimpse of distant lands, the pair drifted back to sleep, paw in paw.**
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Post by Aquamarine on Sept 21, 2013 21:40:36 GMT -5
Great, Zeke. I love the perspective at the first one -- Zeke looking at the apron really shows how little he is. The physical details are excellent, especially in that regard. Try putting a little more of that into his thoughts: what sort of words will make him sound more like a Dibbun? I felt that came through better in the thoughts you wrote out in italics than in the narration and description between. Part of that depends on your own personal style, though. It's up to you how much Zeke you want to come through in the narration itself or if you prefer more of an unobtrusive, impartial narrator looking in from the outside. I found Zeke's character coming through a lot more in the narration of the second one. The blind panic is perfect, especially since Zeke is normally the very confident type. It's nice to see him being true to the Dibbun he is -- and also true to his own character in his recovery at the end. Well done. By the way, I changed the third prompt when we switched the Patrols over, so it may be more applicable to Zeke now if you're interested.
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Crystal M. V. Rosepaw
Loyal Dibbun
Even if I am inactive, if you need to contact me, messaging me will send me an email! :)
Posts: 439
Main: Crystal Rosepaw
Alt 1: Rikian Zarooah
Alt 2: Kaede Dawnshadow
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Post by Crystal M. V. Rosepaw on Mar 14, 2014 0:46:00 GMT -5
Might as well try my hand at these, huh? Doing Scenario 3, 'cause it was changed. :3 Using Crystal, as... Well, I just wanna. >_>
*Correspondence to the Abbey. Crystal knew that it had to be done, and as much as she delighted visiting the massive stone sanctuary, she was always wary about leaving the Fort. But she'd been assured that another officer would take her recruits out for their daily practice, that someone else could carry the palates of timber to make repairs. Her peers may have requested her specifically to be the one to go just to get some peace from her seemingly endless pacing and the sound of the vixen meticulously caring for her weapons. But the thought did not occur to her; no, only duty mattered. She'd received her orders, and after some worrying, she had thrown a pack over one shoulder and left through the gates that night.
It wasn't a long distance to travel, but, always hoping to impress, she had made ground swiftly, her footpaws eating up the leagues with little strain. Weariness had begun to take hold, but she was nearly there. Through the gaps in the canopy above, she could occasionally see the belltower, which she had been able to hear since dawn. With all luck, she'd arrive in time for afternoon tea, would make her report over biscuits, and then get to dip her paws in the pond a while before dinner. Though her pace was brisk and her posture focused, a small smile had placed itself on her muzzle at the thought of her childhood home.
However, a distinct feeling of unease had slowly enveloped her. The fur on her spine had begun to prickle with the feeling of being watched. Vigilant by both birthright and trade, she had tried to locate the source; tasting the air, keeping her eyes open and ears alert, but the wind worked against her. Crystal tried to tell herself that it was nothing, just the desire to rest, but... Some sixth sense kept gnawing away at her nerves, giving some warning she could not understand.
Reaching a glade, the vixen stopped, lowering the pack from her shoulders and digging inside to produce a flask of water. She removed her broadsword from her belt to relieve her crippled leg of some of the weight before uncorking the bottle. She splashed a bit of it onto her face, scrubbing at her eyes, trying to rid herself of the heat trapped against her skin by her thick, white pelt. Her coat wouldn't begin to thin for a few weeks more, and the mid-spring heat was unbearable. Perhaps once she was at the Abbey she'd see about sheering some of it away to make her return home more comfortable.
With water in her eyes and her back turned, she was unable to see the figure slipping from between the trees behind her, taking small steps to keep quiet. Four in total, they eyed their apparent victim near hungrily, pulling weapons from belts. The wind shifted.
Crystal's ears twitched at the sound of steel, freezing her paws in place. Her shoulders lowered, her head rising as she parted her jaws, breathing in slowly, carefully. She wasn't alone. The familiar scent of fox, mixed with the smells of weasel and rat. Oh no, certainly not alone. She turned, slowly, to avoid provoking a reaction, and looked at them. Two rats, one with a spear, one with a crude sword, stood behind a common red fox holding an axe. A few paces back, the weasel notched an arrow to her bow.
Mm... Unfair fight, she mused, rolling her shoulders. Though she should at least try to avoid the fight...*
Just passing through here, friends. If I'm on your territory, I apologize, and will avoid it in the future.
*There. Let nobeast say she wasn't tactful. However, the red fox only smiled wider at her, showing teeth. He walked closer, menace in each calculated step, until he was staring down at her.* All o' Mossflower's my territory, friend. Jus' give us yer pack an' sword easy like, an' we might let ya crawl outta here in enough time to lick your wounds.
*His comment was met with muted laughter from his companions, but the little white fox didn't so much as blink at the threat.* Not for sale.
Suit yerself. *The larger fox shrugged almost lazily, sidestepping slowly, oozing overconfidence.
Oh, this'll be fun...
Crystal dove, the twang of the bowstring in her ears. She felt the arrow nick her shoulder, but ignored it, determining it was just a shallow flesh wound. She collided with the fox, taking him by suprise, throwing all of her weight into the elbow that drove into his stomach. As he fell, she followed him down, gripping his tunic in one paw while she drew back the other. Winded, the axe fell from his paws, and he was unable to evade the heavy fist. Crystal felt the break of bone under her paw as it connected solidly with his muzzle, and the warmth of blood on her knuckles as she drew back.
Over the blood pounding in her ears, she should hear the two rats approaching quickly, and thought of her sword. It was too far away to be of much use now... Second option. Releasing the fox, she rose to her full, unimpressive height as she pulled her kama from her waist, flicking the weapons open with a practiced movement of her wrists. With a howl of rage, she met the rats halfway.
The first was unable to stop his momentum, and to great cost. The vixen whirled into him, throwing up an arm to stop his sword. The scrap of metal on metal was loud as it harmlessly was caught in the small scythe, before being forced from his paw with a twist of hers. Not stopping, she used the other blade to hook his shoulder, dragging the rat closer. He let out a screech of pain as the weapon dug into his skin, which was quickly cut off by the other sickle moving across his neck with a swift, cold precision.
Another arrow being released was heard, but in the flurry of motion, it missed. The spear, however, did not.
Crystal howled as it dug into her previously wounded shoulder, scraping bone. Blinded momentarily by pain, she released the dead rat, turned, and slashed wildly at her attacker. The scythe missed, but her forearm connected with his chest, forcing him back. She shoved harder, sending the remaining rat stumbling. Planting one footpaw solidly onto the ground, she lifted the other in a savage kick. It sent the rat to the ground, dazed. The vixen could hear retreating pawsteps; likely the archer running off having seen three companions fall. Good.
Panting, Crystal hauled the rat upright, the curved edge of one sickle beneath his chin. He gulped, but thankfully remained slightly, unwilling to test the patience of the volatile fox. Dragging him along with her, she returned to her pack. She forced him to kneel down as she used her free paw to dig through the pack, producing a long roll of cloth. The irony made her chuckle; she'd normally just use these as bandages, but... She wound it about the rat's wrists, tying it off with a bit more force than necessary to assure him that she, alone, was the one in charge of the situation.
Eying him carefully, she returned her pack to her shoulders (hissing as a strap rubbed against her injury), and then took care to secure her sword to her belt. Only then did she haul the rat to his paws. As she looked at her frightened captive, she smiled warmly at him, though it did nothing to thaw her cold eyes.*
Come now, friend... I've got to get to the Abbey, and I think they might have a few questions about what you lot at doing around here, hm? Step lively, now...
*Going to Redwall, taking out a few criminals, and even bringing one in for a round of questioning... Though... Empty night, Crystal cursed to herself. They made me miss tea for sure...*
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Post by Aquamarine on Mar 19, 2014 9:17:11 GMT -5
Great as usual, Crys. There isn't a lot of narration of Crystal's thoughts, but you don't really need much more of it because her character comes through so clearly in her actions. (And for breaking your "do not write while medicated" policy, it's still quite well done. ) I've added the badge to your profile.
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Post by Barkfur on Jun 17, 2018 5:55:47 GMT -5
well, i'm going for the vermin one
** a score of vermin had Barkfur cornered. the evil looking wildcat, obviously their leader laughed mockingly and asked.**
wot's a fine beast loike ye doing in the territory of glimbo goreclaw! eat steel!
**Barkfur laughed inwardly, glimbo? what type of name was that?! suddenly the wildcat's rapier came into play and disarmed him. Barkfur's claymore was picked up by a stoat, who sneered evilly. drawing his bow, Barkfur ran toward the wildcat and stuck his head through the bow. once that was done, he pulled on the bow tightly, strangling the cat. with a firm face on he exclaimed.**
drop yer weapins or yer leader dies! I've got fivescore warriors surrounding this thicket! don't ye dare move!
** as the vermin looked at him confused, he took the bow off the wildcat, then impaled it with a quick slash with his dirk, which he had drawn when he was announcing his "numbers". the wildcat writhed for a second, then went limp. then pandemonium ensued. Barkfur slashed at the stoat who had token his claymore and took it back. throttling an evil-looking fox, he dueled a rat with a cutlass. slash for jab, cut for nick, they fought. Barkfur finally slew the rat by pushing the fox onto the cutlass blade, slaying him. as the rat looked at him in shock, Barkfur put him out of his misery with a well placed lunge. Barkfur then disarmed a ferret, whom he knocked out.**
THWIP!
**Barkfur yowled in pain as an arrow shot by a weasel hit him in the back. he could barely see through a haze of pain. raising his claymore, he cut an arrow out of the sky. he made a weak lunge towards the weasel, surprisingly killing him. he was then impaled by a short fox with a spear. he gasped and threw his claymore. It didn't miss. his vision went blurry, but he kept on fighting. He then was hit by a knife in his back. Barkfur was enraged. so much life just so he could get killed? not on his watch. howling like a madbeast Barkfur groveled for his claymore. he found it by the carcass of the short fox, now minus one head. the remaining vermin thirteen in all, were shocked. here was a warrior that would not die. seven charged Barkfur, while six fired arrows at him.**
HAWAYYY THE BRAWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!
**swinging his sword in a wide arc, Barkfur slew all seven vermin with one slash. then, deciding to play it the commando way, he dropped his claymore and went all out hand-to-hand. within seconds six vermin lay dead. the ferret that he knocked out still laid there, unconscious. he picked the vermin up, then slung it across his back. he then picked up his claymore and headed back to Redwall, muttering**
what are a score of vermin doing in mossflower? maybe a horde is coming? if so I must warn the abbot!
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Post by Burfle, Brookfill & Madrigal on Jun 18, 2018 11:29:42 GMT -5
Hey Barkfur. Some nice descriptions here, and I get a good sense of Barkfur's warrior personality Perhaps my main comment for improvement would be to consider the realism of a character's actions in a scenario. For example, in this excerpt Barkfur manages to cleave through a whole seven beasts in one swing. Now I don't think even a bloodwrath filled Badger lord like Boar the fighter could achieve that feat, despite his incredible strength, or even Redwall's most skilled swordsmouse Martin. This also takes place after Barkfur has been rather heavily wounded already. Even with a zeal to cling on to life, it is a bit of a stretch to have such incredible strength when suffering from such injuries. I might recommend a rewrite of this activity first, before we can get you the badge. I'd advise taking a couple of moments to consider the actions as you write them. Would they be realistic? Would a beast with an injured footpaw be able to perform 10 somersaults with that leg, or fight 10 beasts simultaneously and defeat them all resoundly in a second? (Exaggerated examples there of course ;P). Taking the time to reconsider how realistic the actions are is something that I personally have found very helpful to improve my rping. Also, being outnumbered 20 to 1 by vermin might be a good chance to show a warrior's cunning with Barkfur. How might he use his surroundings to his advantage to outsmart the enemy? Or how might he trick them into some dense forest and confuse them to allow for his escape? I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with
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Post by Barkfur on Feb 10, 2019 14:37:02 GMT -5
Okay Burfle, I'll keep it real. But i'll do this with Thorn instead. Same scenario as before. **Thorn Rowanjack was in a peckish mood. After setting out to his parent's cottage, located on the outskirts of the Mossflower water meadows, at dawn from Redwall. From there, he had paced slowly through Mossflower wood, following a makeshift compass that he had been tinkering with for quite a long time now. The compass wasn't exactly accurate, but it's accuracy had improved over the course of a season of Thorn's constant tinkering. By now, Thorn assumed he was halfway there, as the forest was beginning to thicken, and the grass was up to his thighs. He heard rustling in the brush twenty paces away from him. He was grateful that he brought his shortbow, and his usual arsenal of automated arrows, plus a few unstable prototypes. Thorn nocked a blunt arrow to his bow, then stalked the rustling into a clearing. The sight was enough to make his stomach reel. The clearing was being used as a camp for a score and a half of vermin. Several of the vermin were rats, and the rest were stoats, ferrets, and weasels, with the leader being a brawny middle aged rat. Thorn's mind instantly raced. Going around the camp without getting caught would be impossible, so the only option was to fight. A frontal assault would be suicidal, as he only had fifteen arrows. the only way would be leading them through a gauntlet of traps. Thorn checked his quiver and tool belt. The only things that seemed trap-worthy that he had a few rappel arrows, two net arrows, an incendiary arrow, and a prototype flashbang which he wasn't sure whether it worked or not. Thorn smiled. It would take a few minutes sneaking around setting the traps, but it would be worth it.** *** **Thorn smiled. The placing of a few tripwires were rather easy, and the net traps were hard to improvise, but Thorn wasn't called a mechanic fox for nothing. He swallowed hard and slipped his steampunk goggles on, nocked a ricocheting arrow on his bow,pointed the bow downwards, and strutted into the camp. The Rat's voice was loud and shrill, and Thorn just wanted to give the rat a good old arrow to the gut. **
'Ey ye' look like ye have some good arrows. Pass em' here and i may let you join us.
Join you? Thorn thought. I'd rather get wed to one of my machines!
**Thorn's reply was loud and clear** Join vermin with the likes of you?! I'd rather not!
Huh, so then, you won't join us? NAB 'IM!
**Thorn released the arrow, and it ricocheted from the hard ground and found it's way in the gut of a stoat. He then procured a makeshift lighter, from his tool belt, and lit the flashbang, which he then threw. Subsequently, the lighter burst into flames, and Thorn had to throw that into the vermin's campfire. Thorn then ran into the woods, about a hundred paces. toward his gauntlet. Thorn then froze. Had his grenade taken effect? He had set the fuse for seven seconds, enough for him to run a good distance into the woods. Had the fuse burnt out? Or had the flam-Thorn was rewarded by loud screams, and he heard the leader say something along the lines of "get that fox!", But Thorn couldn't be so sure.
He stood there, until he heard lots of footsteps nearby, and ran in the direction of the traps. The entire band, minus the leader and two others were chasing him.**
Round 1, He thought, The tripwires. If some get past, I've got quite a lovely surprise.
**Needless to say, two thirds of the vermin got past the wires, the others, either knocked out cold or stunned, were the lucky ones, as the worst was yet to come. The next section of gauntlet, the nets, were hard to get past. Within a few seconds,seven were hanging in the treetops, secured by nets, trying to hack their way free. The remaining eleven ran into the final part of the gauntlet, or as to say, the merciless one. Thorn had gathered dry grass and anything flammable and placed it thigh deep in one area, and dumped some sap on it. Hampered down trying to walk through flammable material, the vermin were vulnerable to a well shot fire arrow, which killed them all, except for one stoat who was at the rear of the column that ran away to alert the leader. Thorn considered shooting a blunt arrow at the rodent, but instead followed him.
Once he arrived at the camp, the stoat was hurriedly recounting the gauntlet, and the chief and his guards were on the verge of panic. Then Thorn decided to make an entrance. The Stoat rushed Thorn, but an arrow aimed well and true put him to sleep. The two guards tried running, but nothing outruns an ordinary arrow fired swift and. true. The Chief noticed that and began to beg for his life.**
P-please i' was a joke matey, can't ye take a jok-
**A barbed arrow stopped the rat's pleading. Thorn glanced at the rat pitifully, and then began walking away with these words**
Silence now rat. Dead vermin tell no tales.
**Thorn shouldered his bow and began to walk in the direction of Redwall. His parents could wait. There may have been a larger force nearby, and the abbot must be warned.**
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Post by Isaiah on Apr 2, 2019 16:16:58 GMT -5
Hey Barkfur! Sorry for taking so long to get to this, but I wanted to get you your feedback and your badge. First off, I just want to say I think your writing has improved a lot since you first started posting. Like, the difference is huge and you're definitely learning a lot faster than I did when I first discovered this website existed 10 years ago. I'll give some constructive criticism but I think overall you did very well. The concept of Thorn as an inventor/tinkerer type character is interesting and not one that's really been explored within the Redwall universe before. However, that does mean you have to be careful with stretching believability and not getting carried away with elaborate inventions. Makeshift compass? That's awesome, and I like how it's a long term project of Thorn's. But, what does it look like? How does it work? You've got a whole world of interesting stuff to explore here. The aesthetic and mechanics of Thorn's inventions could inform quite a bit about his personality. Are his inventions finely decorated but often malfunction? Are they bulky and made of the scrappiest parts around? Do they take on a more natural look made of twigs and branches? You don't have to go into too much detail, but it's a good way to expand on one of the main aspects of Thorn's character and inform some small quirks here and there. "The only things that seemed trap-worthy that he had a few rappel arrows, two net arrows, an incendiary arrow, and a prototype flashbang which he wasn't sure whether it worked or not." I can see how a few of these might work realistically within the bounds of the Redwall universe. I can imagine the rappel arrows and net arrows without too much difficulty. A flashbang, however, makes me think of something like this. Now, I'm not saying a contraption that accomplishes a similar thing as a flashbang grenade couldn't exist given the technological level of the Redwall universe, but it requires quite a bit of effort from you to explain how it works. You don't have to get all sciency, but even a vague explanation of how Thorn expects his "prototype flashbang" to work would go a long way towards maintaining suspension of disbelief. There are some other small things like awkward sentences I'd suggest rewording and a few grammar mistakes, but nothing I don't think you couldn't fix yourself or improve at with a bit more practice. The stuff I talked about above is the main thing that I think would help your writing match your ambition and hopefully help you get to know Thorn as a character better! Overall, this is good! You have a pretty good sense of how to keep a narrative flow and writing action. Everything was pretty clear here and that can be hard to do when you're writing action with so many characters. I appreciate the added details of Thorn heading to his parent's cottage and then going to warn the abbot at the end. The details make it feel like a larger story instead of just a snapshot about fighting random vermin for the sake of it. You also do a good job of getting inside Thorn's head and showing us his thoughts and reasoning behind his actions. Great improvement and definitely deserving of a badge! Apologies if I went a bit overboard with feedback
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