The Bæstyr Chronicles - Chapters 1 and 2 need grading

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    Default The Bæstyr Chronicles - Chapters 1 and 2 need grading

    The Bæstyr Chronicles is going to be an ongoing story, with multiple 'books' and chapters. The languages used, apart from English, are Norweigan and Latin. If it's wrong, blame Google translate. Also, it's totally not a rip off of Skyrim, just saying. If I finish it in time, Book I (or the first part of it at least) will be entering the WWC.

    First Capture Attempt: For Sandile, Poliwag and Tynamo.
    Characters Needed: 35k - 65k
    Currently (as of chapter 2): 26708


    BOOK I: AQUA ET TERRA
    T H E___J O U R N E Y

    Chapter I



    The goblin approached Erikkson cautiously, taking care not to tread on any of the bodies of the other goblins, dead and scattered on the floor. It was a disgusting creature in every sense of the word. It was small, only around one-and-a-half yards high, and about half as wide. It had putrid skin – a deep green colour – which was covered in mud and dust, in addition to all of the warts and boils speckled around its face. The creature had long, black, greasy hair which just the sight of it made anyone want to throw up. It's teeth were its worst feature – yellow and mouldy, crooked and many were missing. It's body was hidden behind an old rag that he must have found at some point; it was an unattractive style, and the flimsy material would do him no good in any battle or war. The cloth stretched down to its knees, hiding its manlihood. Its fingernails were both uncut and cracked with dirt caked underneath the claws. It was holding an iron mace (all Goblins weapon of choice) with a rough wooden handle and a bludgeoned metal head. Its potent stench, not unlike that of a rotting cattle, infiltrated the nose of Erikkson even at a distance – it was the main reason he was so prepared for the goblin ambush. It was customary for them not to wear any footwear, although as an experienced Nord like Erikkson could tell you, it was also a foolish decision. The goblins were the laughing stock of Va'ora, and their fruitless attempts at getting equal had driven them into seclusion, only coming out of their mountain homes to attempt to pillage the vastly stronger villages and towns.

    The hated creature knew that its time, in this world at least, was over. It muttered a few words in it's language, possibly in prayer, before charging forward, mace drawn, in one final attempt to defeat the experienced fighter. It got within a few feet of Erikkson before swinging wildly, hoping to bury the hit anywhere onto the fighter. Erikkson gave a short laugh, before deflecting the swing with his longsword and followed through with a thrust which shot straight through the hated creatures internal organs and through the other side. A look of shock spread over it's face, and limply fell to the floor. Erikkson drew his sword before using his dead foes clothing to wipe the sickly yellow blood from his favourite weapon. The battle was relatively easy – all six of the assailants had perished. A quick Nord prayer: “Selv etter liv kan du bestige,” and then he carried on to hunt for food for the small village he lived in.

    Erikkson was in his mid-twenties. He was heavily built, and he had a lot of muscular strength and endurance. He had no hair apart from his blonde beard that stretched down to his chest. He had many scars all over his body, and he wore them with honour and pride. He often walked around in his light armour, created from the hides of various wolves and foxes. Although he only used this protection in very few places on his body, he carried a shield made of the finest wood and mithril. He wore leather leggings to keep himself somewhat warm in the harsh Scandinavian winter months, and simple fur boots. As far as his weaponry was concerned, he was covered. He had his longsword, passed down his family line generation after generation – many an enemy had died by the blade of Erikkson's sword. As a backup, he carried a one handed axe, crafted by the village smith, Master Finn, though it didn't quite have the same history as his other killing tool. Whenever it's necessary, it's also worth noting that Erikkson was an accomplished archer, and could hit a Goblin from sixty yards, though he much preferred close combat, and saw long range fighting as cowardice.

    He was out in the plains just a few miles from his house, his turn to go out hunting for food for the entire village, and it wasn't the nicest place. The floor was rocky and hard, and there was none of the picturesque greenery or natural wonders that you could see elsewhere around Va'ora. Yes, there were mountains, but you wouldn't like to go climbing or hiking around here, or you would have met the same, scummy creatures that Erikkson met earlier – the Goblins resided in the intricate cave system they formed. It was actually surprisingly well worked for something that they themselves created. There was a small stream that ran past his village of Jargsburg which continued flowing to where the Nord was now, and possibly a lot further – Erikkson hadn't been much past the point he was at now due to the dangers of other creatures such as the brave Hawks, crafty Elves and extremely strong trolls. It was even rumoured that beyond the mountains lived a fierce dragon that lived deep underground, but it was not true. Dragons were just the stuff of legends, just another myth passed down generation after generation.

    After around fifteen minutes of solid walking, the Nord had found a herd of buffalo walking towards the nearby stream. He scouted each of them, trying to find the finest one to carry home to the hungry children. He chose one of the healthiest creatures, before proceeding to draw out his axe and slicing the head off of the creature. Seeing a threat, the other buffalo began to sprint away in every direction as the slayed cattle slumped to the floor. “Nice and simple,” Erikkson thought, smiling to himself. He put the axe back in it's sheath and lifted the buffalo onto his shoulder blades. He struggled slightly as he fought to regain his balance but eventually he managed to right himself and set off slowly back to Jargsburg.

    The journey back was a struggle, but a mostly safe journey home. The watchtower guards, seeing the buffalo, climbed down from their posts, opened the heavy gates and rushed over to help the man. Dragging it in, they proceeded to lump it down next to a large fire that the villagers kept burning. The large horned beast would be ready by supper at the very latest.

    The village was quite small compared to the larger towns in the region they lived in, Va'ora, such as Kaldtbyen and Den Jerngruver, though they had the essentials needed for a sustainable life. All of the buildings were hand built from wood carried down from the mountains. The roofs were made from straw, donated by the village farm. There was a smith for the creation of weapons from raw materials such as steel and mithril, and a family of bards who travelled around the world in the search of strange and exotic items to sell for a hefty price. Another source of food and resources came from the aforementioned farm and the mill next to it. This provided wool, milk and grain for the people (the animals were rarely culled, as there were very few). And of course, there was the village tavern and inn, where many adventurers head to after a long day.

    Erikkson continued walking past the houses, wanting to visit his mother, father and grandfather – it had been several days since he had last dropped in. They all still shared a close relationship even after all these years, much like all of the families in Jargsburg. Family honour was one of the most important values of life in Va'ora, and during tough times they always kept together to comfort and condole with one another. Unfortunately for the hero in this story, it was going to be one of these moments, as he was about to find out now.

    He grasped the brass handle with his right hand, still slightly bloodied from the Goblins and buffalo, and pulled softly to open the door; if he wanted to, he could rip it off it's hinges without putting too much effort in. He stepped inside the house, and almost everything was as it was just a few days ago. There were just two rooms. One, a combined kitchen and living room, was in immaculate condition – his parents like to keep the household tidy in case of any surprise visitors; they were an average, middle-class family, not some filthy lower-class beggars. There were beautifully crafted stools all around a single table, a carpet made from the skin of a bear and fabulous paintings drawn from a master artist. In the kitchen area, there were one or two knifes on the smooth wooden bench, but everything else was tidily put away in the cupboards. There was a curious sound coming from the bedroom, a sniffle, as if somebody was weeping. And then the unmistakeable crying sound came – there was something wrong.

    “Mother?” Erikkson called. His deep voice carried through the building, but there was no answer to the man. “Father? Are you here?” Yet again, no answer. Just the quiet, queer sobbing sound. Erikkson tread slowly, just in the off chance it wasn't who he believed it to be. “Grandfather, you must-”

    There was a wail as soon as the first word left his mouth. He jogged into the bedroom, to see his grandfather laying in his own bed, Erikkson's parents kneeling by the side. This room, unlike the other one, was modest in comparison. It was a much smaller size, and there were a lack of decorations hanging from the wall or on a cabinet. There were two beds, one which was his grandfather's, and one which his parents shared. The grandfather was not looking well, as if he was tired. But due to the combination of his pale looks and the sorrow of his parents, he figured it was much more serious than that. Unsure of what to say, his father began to explain. “Your grandfather has fallen seriously ill, and we fear that he is on his last legs. We're... we're paying our last respects for him. We're expecting the worst.

    “Erikkson...” the elderly man croaked. He was one of the most famed of the Nords – at least in the village; his local popularity because of the experiences he has had in the past. He had won many a battle, and had many scars to prove his strength. He was the most well travelled of all of Jargsburg and had offered countless pieces of important and even life-saving advice. Just a few years ago, he was made a village elder by the community after one had passed away. “I have some valuable information for you, and as selfish as it seems, there's something I was researching that must be continued.” He turned to my parents. “Helga, Ragnar. This is for Erikkson's ears only. I respect that you want to know, but it is for his ears only. A private quest for him and someone else who's capable. I mean no offence, but you're starting to age and you might not be able to endure what I need completing.”

    Helga and Ragnar, Erikkson's parents nodded and left, respecting the dying mans wish. They went into the main room, shutting the door behind them. The grandfather follow them with his eyes, before turning to face Erikkson as the door was closed.

    “Now,” he said. “Recently, as you may know, I've been out wandering, seeing the world before I Ascend. But I've not just been sightseeing, I've been partaking on a dangerous quest. Now, recently, I've been interested in something called the Monstra Sinus legend. After hearing about it, I went out searching for a confirmation of it's existence. I've searched in numerous caves, trekked up mountains, swum in many lakes just to find a source. And I've found one.” Erikkson's grandfather picked up a red book from the side of his bed. It was in great condition, despite being a little dusty. “On my travels, I found this book, titled FABULA: Anallium Monstra Sinus. After reading it, I was shocked to find that there may be many different species of beast undiscovered in the distant reaches of Va'ora. While this may not be so shocking at first, it's worth noting that these beasts can harness the eight sacred elements. Here, have a read of the book. It will hopefully explain it better than I would.”

    Erikkson took the book, a little sceptical. Beasts which can use the power of the eight elements? It was to crazy to be true. He opened the book to the first page, and began to read.

    Many millennia ago, Va'ora was nothing. Just a vast realm of nothingness. All that there was was Arceus, the mightiest and strongest of all the Gods. And then, Arceus created the elements, all eight of them, each represented by a different God. These Gods took the form of all-powerful beasts, named the Bæstyr. They each had a powerful cry, which allowed the energy to surge through their body and allowed the element to be utilized to maximum potential. The full list of Gods is as follows:

    -KYOGRE, GOD OF AQUA
    -GROUDON, GOD OF TERRA
    -HO-OH, GOD OF IGNIS
    -LUGIA, GOD OF AERIS
    -LATIOS, GOD OF ANIMUS
    -LATIAS, GOD OF ANIMA
    -CRESSELIA, GOD OF LUX
    -DARKRAI, GOD OF TENEBRAE

    Each of the Bæstyr and Arceus discussed forming a new world, one which they could look after and keep safe. One which they could create with ease. A perfect world. But then, the tensions began to rise. Agreements couldn't be met, and there was a holy war. There were no sides, just a mass free-for-all, the mightiest battle that was ever recorded. Arceus, being fair, ended the battle and banished the Gods to different parts of Va'ora, to the north, to the south, to the east and to the west. These Bæstyr are said to live in caverns, in complete secrecy from the rest of the region, forming their own part of the world to the way that they wanted it. And Arceus decided to take over and change the center area of Va'ora so that it was a fair place, full of good people. But the Bæstyr were not satisfied. They decided to form their own minions to do their bidding, and these were called Litbæstyr. The Litbæstyr were of all different sizes and strength, and adapted to the environment they lived in. Some say that even nowadays the Bæstyr are still at war, shaping the edges of Va'ora. And if they carry on, the elements will soon awaken the mighty dragon, Alkvifor who resides in the mountains in the center, created to keep peace between the Bæstyr, which will surely spell the end of Va'ora as we know it.


    Erikkson looked back up at his grandfather. “So, I'm guessing you want me to slay these 'Bæstyr' so that the world doesn't end? It can't be too difficult, can it?”

    “You must remember that these monsters are not of this world. They are supernatural, and are insanely powerful. It will be a lot harder than you expect. You will need to befriend some of the Litbæstyr in order to destroy them. In addition, I would like you to take someone else with you. A female. Her name is Ulrika, and I hear she has a special knack for befriending animals.”

    “But grandfather, I don't want to go with her. I want to travel alone, to show my strength!”

    “No!” He retaliated with surprising strength. “Trust me, she will be vital in your quest. She lives in the next village along, Actok, and she will be expecting you soon. Her parents own the farm, I'm sure that they'll lend you a horse. Make haste young one, and save all of Va'ora!” He gave one last look of great expectation before going silent. His eyes were closed, and he wasn't breathing. He had died.

    “Grandfather, I promise you that I'll fulfill your dying wishes. I will slay all of the Bæstyr and stop Alkvifor!"
    Last edited by SLCalamity; 2nd February 2012 at 02:15 AM.

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    Default Re: The Bæstyr Chronicles [WWC2K11?] - NOT FINISHED

    Chapter II

    “So, what's living in Actok like? Of course, I've been there before and all, but it must be nice? It's an amazingly beautiful village.”

    “It's nothing amazing, just plain ol' country life. I work at the farm, but I get to ride the horses. It keeps me busy during the day.”

    Erikkson and Ulrika had started their journey towards the first of the eight Bæstyr; Kyogre. They were both on chestnut horses, who were moving at quite a fast pace, faster than either of the two saviors of Va'ora could even imagine running. After meeting up in Actok like Erikkson's grandfather suggested, they became good friends quickly. Afterwards, they decided to have a quick look around the even smaller town, finding weapons they liked and intriguing potions which could come in helpful later. They brought provisions in case of an emergency, but also some fire wood – who knew if there would be any shrubbery or trees out there?

    Ulrika was a pleasant woman. Pretty good looking too. She was about the same age as her Nord partner. She herself was a wood elf, and certainly fitted the stereotype. The woman had sharp facial features – a somewhat long noise and pointy ears – but the most amazing brown eyes. Even a fighter trained to not be distracted like Erikkson couldn't tear his own pair off of her. She wore war paint as part of a Actok tradition. A single, diagonal slash of the special mud stretched across her face. She had long, blonde hair, lighter than the colour of Erikkson's beard, and it fell down to the same height as her chest. She had above average-sized breasts, but to the Nords dismay they were pretty well covered with a leather jacket. She wore a fur hide wrapped around her torso in the style of a mini-skirt. Her legs were stunning; nice and smooth, as well as quite long. Elves were quite well known for their archery skills, and Ulrika was no different, carrying a hunting bow. In her quiver, she had plenty of arrows – some even hand made! - but still always insisted to regain them after she had fired them. You could never be too careful. In addition to the long-ranged weapons, she kept a dagger concealed at all times for a surprise attack, in the off chance that the pair was ambushed. It was also useful for cutting material as an impromptu bandage.

    The adventurers were in an amazing part of Va'ora. There was plenty of wildlife all around them, from the chirping birds singing in the trees above to the bubbling brook flowing downstream to their right, everything was perfect. The two steeds were heading past a small forest cottage, hidden away behind the trees. It looked like a wonderful place to live. A vendor to the right, trying to sell various goods for decent prices. “Thank you!” he said graciously as Erikkson traded a handful of gold pieces for some horse food – it was vital that they kept these horses energized. This view continued for a while, before slowly fading away the further away from the center of Va'ora they traveled. Eventually, there was just rock and dust, and the wildlife had vanished, barring the odd cactus or two. The sun was lowering itself in the sky, slowly moving out of the way for the icy chill of night time.

    “How far away do you think we are?” Ulrika questioned. “We've been traveling for a long time; we left at the break of dawn, and it's almost night time now. I think my horses are starting to get tired.”

    “That's a good point, actually. I hadn't noticed. Let's set up camp for the night and I'll check how much longer we've got to go.”

    “All right then.”

    They both simultaneously dismounted their stallions, and took off their knapsacks. Ulrika pulled out some wolf skin covers provided by her father, whilst Erikkson pulled out the copy of Anallium Monstra Sinus, and flicked to the back couple of pages. After reading it over a few times to gain the best understanding of his mission, it turned out that there was a map which went unnoticed due to the pages being stuck together with an unknown liquid. It wasn't the most detailed thing in the world, but any help they could get was appreciated. He looked around, trying to look for any features on the map which would help them figure out where they were. “We're here, Ulrika,” he said, jabbing a porky finger at a mountain range on the map, towards the north. “That's those mountains, over there!” He took his digit off the book, and proceeded to point at the natural features extending into the skyline. The sun was setting just behind them and it gave off a brilliant shine and illuminated the already great looking mountains. “Well, this is romantic!” he joked with a grin. Ulrika smiled in response.

    “So who's going to do the cooking tonight?” Ulrika pondered.

    “Well, you're the woman” replied Erikkson.

    “I guess that's alright. What have we got?”

    “We've got... wait a second, where in all of Helvete has our food gone?”

    Erikkson was desperately pillaging through his bag, trying to find the food which he was sure he packed with him. This was an awful turn for the two, especially as they were hungry in the first place. Though Ulrika panicked, Erikkson decided on a plan. “I'll go hunting for something to eat. It's not difficult, I do it all the time for the village. Sure, it won't be clean but it's much better than starving. Just protect the camp, I won't go too far.”

    And so off Erikkson went, yet again searching for some food so that they could survive. He didn't have to travel far before he saw a peculiar sight – a crocodile in the middle of the nowhere. It was extremely well hidden, even though it was just a short couple of yards away he almost missed it. He had only heard about these amazing beasts, but that they lived in jungle environments and not out here. It was also unlike the descriptions he had heard; instead of a green scaled monster, it was not as intimidating as expected. It was also a lot shorter than Erikkson imagined, and a much smaller size. It had tan coloured skin which blended in well with the sandy floor, but the only way that the Nord had seen it were the black horizontal stripes, laying on the rough skin. It opened it's mouth to yawn, and it's menacing teeth glimmered in the sunset. Slowly and carefully Erikkson drew out his axe, intending to slice the head off of the crocodile before it even noticed him. He readied himself before swinging down with his strong right hand.

    It all happened so quickly. The beast dodged to the left, before swiftly clamping down its sharp fangs onto the forearm of the saviour which was about to end the poor critters life. Crying out in pain, Erikkson grabbed the tail of the beast with his weaker hand and wrenched it off, loosing a chunk of his arm in the process. Blood began to spurt out at a rapid pace. “Wow, I guess you're tougher than I thought,” he said to no one in particular. Axe still in hand, he went for another slice, but before he could even move his arms, he got a sudden pain in his chest – the crocodile had headbutted him. But this was Erikkson Gudjohnnsen, one of the strongest villagers in Jargsburg, and he wasn't going to let such a petty creature get the better of him.

    Feigning injury, Erikkson fell to the floor in fake pain. Clutching his open wound, he gave a sigh and began to tend to it. And the foe took the bait, hook, line and sinker. It slowly walked over, almost mockingly, trying to get the finishing blow on his opponent. And then, unexpectedly, the Nord grabbed an arrow from his quiver and stabbed down with it, right into the claw of the sand crocodile. It went all the way through, and went through the rock surface, pinning the hand into the earth. Now Erikkson was on the upper hand. He bought out his longsword, just as cockily as the crocodile before him, but this was no ordinary creature. It bit through the hardened wood of the arrow and snapped it right off, freeing it's hand again, apparently feeling no pain. And then, it performed an intense move that caught Erikkson off-guard. It launched itself high into the air, before coming down at a great velocity. It then smashed it's tail on the stone floor and it made such a noise that Ulrika, around half a mile away, thought that there was an earthquake. The ground vibrated for several seconds, knocking Erikkson off of his feet. The ground where the spot of impact was shattered, leaving cracks for several meters around the spot. Not wanting to mess around this time, the monster jumped forward, teeth bared, right at the face of Erikkson. And it would have been all over if not for a timely arrow launching from the beast's right hand side. Ulrika, sensing danger for her partner had sprinted over and used her expert aim to halt the creature. It had not gone all the way through like the previous arrow, but it had knocked the crocodile right off course. It ended up face planting, and Erikkson wasted no time getting up and finishing the reptile. Pulling out his axe, he severed the head of the injured enemy, killing it for good. There was no way that anything in this world could survive a hit like that.

    “Well, thanks girl. You saved me back then, and I would've been meeting God without the huge journey.”

    “It's no problem, Erik. But what was that thing? That was no ordinary being.”

    “I have... no... clue...” Erikkson trailed off, as he was focusing his attention on something else. The crocodile had began to erupt in a beam of shining white light, almost blinding our two heroes with the intensity. It continued for several long seconds, before slowly fading away, leaving a slightly duller ball of light, a colour between tan and oak. As if this wasn't odd enough, the ball of light suddenly shot into the axe which the Nord was still grasping in his hand. The axe glowed in the same colour as the ball of light, a sparkling noise emitting from the weapon. This glow began to pulse. Once, twice, thrice. And then it stopped, and the weapon turned back to it's original form. The sand crocodile, however, had disintegrated.

    “What in Helvete's name was that?” Erikkson asked aloud, studying his blade for signs of change.

    “I have no clue, but like I said, it doesn't seem of this earth. Maybe... maybe it was a Litbæstyr?”

    “Maybe...” the Nord trailed off. “But what are we going to do about food? It's disappeared!”

    “Yeah. About that,” the Elf began. “It turns out that the food was in my knapsack all along. I'm sorry that I didn't think of looking in there at all...”

    “Don't worry about it, this experience may have proved much more valuable than I would have thought. Let me flick through the Anallium Monstra Sinus again.

    And it was said that whenever a Litbæstyr was defeated, its soul, flowing with the concentrated power of the elements, infused with the weapon that had earned victory over the Bæstyrs minions. This energy was to continue flowing throughout the weapon at all times, and could be unleashed with the shout of the element that is combined with the weapon. These devastating attacks make it easier to conquer any other Bæstyr or Litbæstyr, and thus earn their own elements. Only one that can harness all of the elements and utilize them to their full potential stands any chance of defeating Alkvifor.

    Erikkson glanced down to his weapon, then back at Ulrika. “Let's give this a try then, shall we?”

    He limbered himself up, and braced himself for the strike. “TERRA!” he yelled as he swung the axe in a downwards motion. It hit the ground with a tremendous force, sending a wave of energy shooting forward as indicated by the line of dust rising a head of him for several meters. There were cracks all in the floor, a move that surely would have cracked the blade if it were not charged with elemental energy. But there was not even a scratch on the enchanted axe. It was the most powerful weapon he had ever seen in his twenty-five years in Va'ora.

    Things were about to get a lot more interesting in this quest.
    Last edited by SLCalamity; 30th December 2011 at 07:18 AM.

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    Default Re: The Bæstyr Chronicles [WWC2K11?] - NOT FINISHED

    You know what, I'll put this chapter up for grading so long as the character count continues over from the previous story. But I kinda want Sandile so yeah. idk if I'll even finish it but WHO KNOWS.

    Total Chars: 26708
    For: Sandile
    Needed: 10000

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    Default Re: The Bæstyr Chronicles [WWC2K11?] - NOT FINISHED

    You know what, I'll put this chapter up for grading so long as the character count continues over from the previous story. But I kinda want Sandile so yeah. idk if I'll even finish it but WHO KNOWS.

    Total Chars: 26708
    For: Sandile
    Needed: 10000

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    Default Re: The Bæstyr Chronicles - Chapters 1 and 2 need grading

    Claimed, I guess.
    SLCalamity likes this.

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    Default Re: The Bæstyr Chronicles - Chapters 1 and 2 need grading

    I've been sitting on this for a few days, but someone else requested that I grade their story so I decided I'd get a move on with this one. All right? All right.
    Introduction: So, you bring us into the Chronicles with someone slaughtering goblins. I mean, you do bring a good starting point up in the first sentence -- the fact the other goblins are all dead. This, my friend, is a hook of sorts. The reader's going to be interested, obviously, once they get to the part that the goblin needs to step over other dead bodies in order to actually approach the hero of the story. However, I do have some kind of qualms with this introduction, really. In honesty, opening sentences, if you're going to use one, need to be a bit shorter, a bit snappier. That makes it a little more attention-grabbing than a long sentence, especially seeing as the main conflict within your first sentence has to be gotten by reading to the end of the reasonably lengthy sentence.

    Seeing as this is a multi-chapter story based in a fictional world, however, I would have expected something a little more 'separate' from the actual story itself: specifically speaking, a prologue. It accessibly allows the reader to gain information about the story before having to slog through the main storyline, especially seeing as introduction/plot has no clear overlap in your story. The majority of your first paragraph is majorly dedicated to describing the goblin's physical appearance as a whole, and, just as quickly as you grabbed the reader's interest, you could lose it if nothing is really going on. While it's good to introduce characters themselves, it's perhaps not such a brilliant idea to go into such detail about them, especially because goblins only really feature in the first part of this story.

    So, quickly enough, the goblin is dead, and we generally don't hear from its race for the rest of the story that you've actually posted. Now, Erikkson is moving on, and your narration technique allows the reader to gain more information, while at the same time allowing the character to roam, travelling whilst you fill in some background. That's actually a rather neat trick in your style in general. Erikkson is practically outlined at this stage as the main character, which is obviously the case within the story. You've also brought in some pieces of context that doesn't relate to Erikkson while trying to talk about him and his purposes at the time -- we learn about part of his world, the one that you (or Skyrim, lol) invented. Right now, you're ticking all the correct basic criteria for your introduction: sort of engaging opening; establishing characters and locations.

    Regarding the 'engaging opening', however, comes a problem. I've already talked about this a little bit above, but your introduction, as a whole, comes off a little weak. None of the real problems of the story (at least, for these two chapters) have been brought up, and the fight you did write about doesn't impact on the story anyway. We know that the goblins ambushed him, but nothing is ever suggested as to why, and that void could be played upon once filled -- maybe they knew his fate to slay all the Gods of Va'ora, whom they had sworn loyalty to, or perhaps worshipped. Maybe they wanted to stop him before he started -- or maybe they wanted something in his possession that was potentially important, something that could hold power. Otherwise, the goblins have really served no purpose but to give you somewhere to start your story. A little brawl is nice 'n all, but not, on the whole, necessary if it doesn't actually affect the plot.

    Plot: Right, so. Erikkson comes back home to receive news that his grandfather has fallen fatally ill, but before his grandfather dies, he stays around long enough to issue a quest to Erikkson. Y'know, out of the blue, and not really for much reason. You say that Erikkson's grandfather is a traveller and has had many past experiences and stuff, but why would he issue a quest to his grandson of such a nature? More importantly, how in the world would other people not be aware of the legends? I mean, it clearly plays a large part in Va'ora's backstory, and so I'd expect that a lot of people would actually know about it, to be frank with you. As such, why wouldn't anyone else have taken up the same line of thought? I imagine Va'ora is a quite expansive region, so there'd probably be someone who realised that maybe it wasn't all mythical.

    Going along that line of thought, how was his grandfather so convinced that those tales were not woven of falseties? All that's stated is that he managed to find the book, but not how he was convinced -- he never saw this with his own eyes, as far as I can tell from the text. Little things like this can fall through in the story, although you've masked it quite well underneath the drama of the whole thing, but readers can't help wondering. As well as that, why wouldn't the grandfather himself have set out on this journey? If he's trekked up mountains and swam streams and the like, surely he'd be fit enough to walk through Va'ora to slay some beasts. It's sort of strange, too, how he's old and frail, but still managed to track down the book by overcoming literal physical adversities -- and if he wasn't old at the time he made the journey to hunt down the book, why couldn't he have gone off at the same time to slay the Bæstyr?

    It's also relatively strange how everything has already been set in place -- the decision for him to go with Ulrika, and the way people were already prepared the next town across from him. What if Erikkson had declined the proposition? It doesn't seem logical that his grandfather had arranged next to everything beforehand, when there was a chance that Erikkson could actually not go along with his plans. If Erikkson had never turned up, what would have happened then? I'm sure you see my angle. Things that may not seem logical are easily picked up by a reader, and if something works out perfectly, things start looking a bit iffy. I mean, it's possible that Erikkson would never reject such an offer, but then again, not enough of his character was introduced as a whole to judge something like that.

    The other main problem I have with the plot in general is Ulrika's part in it -- why would his grandfather want her to go along with someone she hadn't met before (presumably speaking)? How did he know that she would be vital to Erikkson's success? The grandfather, at this point, is becoming a little like a seer or something, and, although he's dead, he seemed to transgress to some near-omniscient guy towards the end of his life, just happening to leave behind some kind of quest and knowing exactly what must be done to prevent the rise of the dragon Alkvifor. HOW COINCIDENTAL. Another qualm with the appearance of Ulrika is that she's not really introduced as such -- they don't meet, and I was sort of expecting a rivalry-off-the-bat kind of thing, seeing as Erikkson originally didn't want to actually go with her.

    I do have to commend you, though, on the originality of the plot in general, although there are some rough edges that should be straightened out. Assuming that you didn't completely rip this off of Skyrim, it's generally well-thought-out in places. However, I'd like you to think of how actions should be logically, instead of writing things that may seem convenient, but in reality would be considered rather strange.

    Grammar/spelling: Er... well, we'd better get on to this. First off, you seem to have a lot of problems distinguishing its/it's. It's not really that hard, honestly. The main thing to remember is that ITS is the possessive pronoun for 'it', so therefore 'its' is used when something belongs to said 'it'. Thus, 'its claws' would be correct, whereas 'it's claws' is incorrect. IT'S is a contraction of 'it is', and is used for varying reasons. I'm sure you know when to use 'it is' -- so using 'it's' when trying to say that something belongs to an it is not correct. At all. So in the previous example I gave you, if you had written 'it's claws', that would basically have meant 'it is claws', which isn't right.

    a rotting cattle
    This is one of those very obscure, generally unknown things about grammar. People will sometimes say 'a cattle', but that's actually wrong. Cattle can only be referred to in the plural, and cannot be used in the singular. Maybe just use 'cow' or something, instead of 'cattle'? They're basically the same thing anyway.

    It was customary for them not to wear any footwear, although, as an experienced Nord like Erikkson could tell you, it was also a foolish decision.
    You'll see that there's an extra comma added in there. It's one of those nasty clause confusions. 'Although' will generally have a comma stuck before/after it, unless you've got a sentence with something like 'although he was _' in it. Example: Although he was smelly, people liked him. SORTA LIKE THAT. If I attempted to explain it to you properly, I'd probably, um, combust your brain or something.

    A quick Nord prayer: “Selv etter liv kan du bestige.” Then he carried on to hunt for food for the small village he lived in.
    Um, dialogue tags. I've noticed this in a few places in your story -- if a speaking verb is not used before/after speech, then a comma is not used. Here, you have 'and then he carried on (etc)' afterwards. Does that sound like he was speaking? No. It does not. That is the reality of life. As a matter of fact, you put a full stop/period at the end of speech if a speaking verb is not in place after the speech ends. Otherwise, comma. Yes. Also, since you don't really start a sentence with 'and', I omitted that for your benefit.

    if he wanted to, he could rip it off it's hinges without putting too much effort in.
    I didn't edit the thing in the quote this time. Anyway, despite the its/it's confusion (see earlier), there is some tense confusion in here. Since the story's in the past tense, only past tense should actually be used in verbs. So, a better way to write this sentence would be this: "If he wanted to, he could have ripped it off its hinges without putting too much effort in."

    He was one of the most famed of the Nords – at least in the village; his local popularity because of the experiences he has had in the past.
    Instead of the semi-colon, there should be another dash. 'His local popularity because of' needs something stuck in between 'popularity' and 'because' -- such as 'was acquired' 'r something. Additionally, 'he has had' is another tense mix-up. Has is present tense -- it should be 'had', or 'has' could just be omitted altogether.

    Pretty good-looking, too.
    Two things -- hyphens in between two words that are linked (e.g. good-looking to describe someone who, well, looks good), and also that comma before too.

    Detail/description: Well, your description is actually pretty good, for the most part. You do get a well-balanced mix of the senses in your story, and I feel that your description is probably one of the better things you can do. However, sometimes, I've noticed that you kind of drift off in the middle of some things in favour of some more description -- like at the very start of the story, whenever the goblin is approaching. You ramble off on a whole new path about goblinkind, their problems and their woes and such. While description is a good thing, when it detracts from the actual movement and development of the story, then that's where you need to start moderating it a little -- there's a fine balance between not enough and too much description, and I think you're over that line a little.

    Think about how much thought time something is going to take up when people are reading it. If description is put in an offhand way within the story, such as the goblin's stench being mentioned as he walked (like, 'The goblin was approaching, but the rank smell exemplified in his species easily gave his position away'), then not as much 'thought time' would be taken up. Like, if someone's reading convoluted sentences about how bad goblins' lives are, then they're going to get bored pretty quickly, and they're not going to like being dragged away from the plot so much.

    Although your description was generally spot on, there were a few things that may need to be tweaked a little. Firstly, when the goblin was attacking with a mace, Erikkson blocked it with a longsword. I'm no expert on armour and weapons, but I'm almost entirely sure this isn't possible. Unless he/his weapon was super strong 'r something, there's no way that a longsword could block such a heavy weapon -- the impact would have shattered his sword.

    “How far away do you think we are?” Ulrika questioned. “We've been traveling for a long time; we left at the break of dawn, and it's almost night time now. I think my horses are starting to get tired.”
    Here, you unintentionally go off into the ways of Shakespeare -- in his plays, he employed his characters to establish a time, as their stages and stuff wouldn't have been able to have been controlled as well as lights and stuff can be affected today within a theatre. So, a character would have said something like, 'Ye olde nighte is upon us, let us make haste to thy house' (horrible/incorrect example, I know), and that would have made it clear to the audience that it was night-time, despite it being day in real time or whatever. Effectively, you're doing the same thing by making Ulrika spout this. Sure, it's describing the atmosphere and getting a setting down like it should be, but it seems a little robotic for a human to be doing, to be honest.

    “We're here, Ulrika,” he [Erikkson] said, jabbing a porky finger at a mountain range on the map, towards the north.
    'Porky' is the main word to concentrate on. Erikkson is supposed to be well-built. Porky makes him seem... well, chubby, or something. Like he has sausages for fingers.

    He readied himself before swinging down with his strong right hand.
    SLC 6:18 pm
    because he's hench
    and masturbates often

    Apart from that disturbing fiasco conversation, it's not exactly the hand that does the swinging of a sword. It's an arm.

    Length: You've got enough. REALLY. WHY DOES THIS SECTION EXIST?

    Outcome: Sandile captured. Good job. I don't really have any thoughts to sum this up with. >_>; Bit distracted 'n all.

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