First Lines

[Observer]

@Lightflame: I like your story, think the "didn't want to die again" flavor is excellent. I have a bit of an issue with Kano's enemies being the "Knights", as that on its own implies him as a darker. Unless he actually is one, I suggest you think about that. Also, if Kano can return from the dead, what good does it do the knights to fight him and his? Is it supposed to be a "kill the monster and get rid of him for a couple of decades" scenarion like in Percy Jackson?

I was thinking of either a KR type Hell he has to get through each time he dies, or maybe that they actually can kill him.

The idea of people taking advantage of magically binding oaths is what led to that opening I posted. In a world much like ours, where a guarantee really means nothing, a binding oath to protect was the kind of gesture people needed. Of course, when they find a loophole...

Prologue expanded, not sure if I like the new additions.

"I'm a monster..." Korival whispered, staring at the walls of the blood-spattered chamber. The Oathslave to his left snorted, his smooth metalic features clicking together to create the sound. "Kor, in case you haven't noticed, we're all monsters now."

Korival shook his head, the bits of metal that made up his face rubbing against the soft cloth of his hood. "You know what I mean Khorik. At least I fought before. It didn't stop me from killing Mother and Father, didn't stop me from bathing in the blood of innocents, didn't......didn't stop me from killing Dahra. But at least I fought back then! Nowadays I barely even struggle, hardly caring about the worth of the lives I end!"

He paused, feeling the quiet flow in and fill the room with its oppressive mass.

"Yes, we're all monsters on the outside, but slowly I've become on within as well..."

The call came, as it inevitably would. The booming series of thumps shook the room, its beats indicating the number and rank required to go. Instantly, Korival's options vanished. Suddenly the ability not to get up and kill was gone, as impossible as falling up. Even now, nobody understood it, and yet it worked. Korival stood, drawing his sword and pulling up his hood. He had enough overflow for an hour of superhuman capability, maybe less if he got hit. Inside his head, he struggled, resisting what was to come, yearning to simply sit down and die, never to kill again. Regrettably, it was as impossible as resisting.

The sound of screams roused Korival from his thoughts. He had arrived and started killing while lost in thought, not uncommon, all things considered. A mother died first, shrieks cutting off as her head left her shoulders. Next the child died, a youth barely older than eight. His blade left them in pieces, cleaving their flesh and leaving their hopes to die, crushed as flat as the world. On and on he fought, overflow surging, homes burning, and innocents dying. As they fell he cursed himself. Cursed the Oath, cursed the Gods above for allowing a creature like him to exist. A bitter, salty tear fell from his smooth metal face. It was a small thing, nearly invisible as he spun and whirled. Had it not been seen by a young boy, poised for suicide meant to reunite him with his father, perhaps nothing would have changed. But that night, one small tear would make a world of a difference...

Edited September 8, 2012 by Observer

[Lightflame]

@Lightflame: I like your story, think the "didn't want to die again" flavor is excellent. I have a bit of an issue with Kano's enemies being the "Knights", as that on its own implies him as a darker. Unless he actually is one, I suggest you think about that. Also, if Kano can return from the dead, what good does it do the knights to fight him and his? Is it supposed to be a "kill the monster and get rid of him for a couple of decades" scenarion like in Percy Jackson?

I have a feeling this is a legitimate point, but I have no clue what you mean by "a darker"? Is this a typo? Either way, and explanation would be appreciated. Thanks!

[Observer]

I have a feeling this is a legitimate point, but I have no clue what you mean by "a darker"? Is this a typo? Either way, and explanation would be appreciated. Thanks!

Knight has a positive connotation. Fighting a knight carries a negative connotation, casting a darker light on the character, unhindered by logic and a tad dangerous.

Edited September 10, 2012 by Observer

[ReaderAt2046]

I have a feeling this is a legitimate point, but I have no clue what you mean by "a darker"? Is this a typo? Either way, and explanation would be appreciated. Thanks!

"Darker" is a term used on many of my planes to refer to servants of the Powers of Evil. Carries the implication that said searvant is sentient and aware of the nature of its master, though it can connote both an Always Chaotic Evil creature or a human or other such morally responsible entity that has chosen evil deliberately. Creatures under the influence of full mind control that are still morally good, such as Marsh, are not generally regarded as darkers, nor are creatures that serve the Evil One out of good intentions due to ignorance, folly, and/or deception.

[Observer]

Aiden stepped off the edge of the world.

How's that for a hook?

[Lightflame]

Aiden stepped off the edge of the world.

How's that for a hook?

That's pretty good, and it makes me want to read more. However, it also leaves me with a feeling that there will be flashbacks to come. Still cool.

@Comments on the Knights: Okay, thanks. Seeing as I have to mention the Knights at some point in the prologue, I can just have Kano say something like "so-called Knights", "those who call themselves the Knights", or "those armoured fiends called the Knights". Something like that. Their full title is "The Knights of Tavrion", but that would be really clunky before they got an explanation, so I just had Kano call them "the Knights".

[Observer]

Surprisingly, no flashbacks will be involved. One moment while I get the rest of it...

[ReaderAt2046]

@Khorival, two points:

1. "Suddenly the ability not to get up and kill was gone, as impossible as falling up." Luckily for Khorival, I can think of two ways to fall up off the top of my head.

2. How does Khorival get his orders? If the big drum only specifies rank and number, why does he have to go and not someone else? How did he know he was supposed to go to that house and kill those people?

[Observer]

@Reader, I'll throw in a mention of location. Actual chapter one goes into the main character's POV as he watches the rioters get their butts kicked. I suppose I could have done it better though. Back to the drawing board!

Aiden stepped off the edge of the world. There was a rustle of cloth and a sense of vertigo as gravity reversed. Day changed to night instantly, and in a few seconds Aiden's vision stopped spinning. He was on the edge of Phrath, the underside of the world.

Originally the world was flat. Then I made it a cube. Then Brandon sniped the idea, and I figured flat worlds that come with a new set of rules worked too.

Edited September 19, 2012 by Observer

[Observer]

Pointless bumping

Baydran impaled himself on Crycelia's sword, screaming in pain as the weapon tore through his essence, spew bits of golden light across the charred landscape. He ignored the pain, slicing sideways with his sword and beheading Crycelia in one smooth stroke. He saw himself almost as if from outside, watching as he collapsed to the ground beside his enemy's headless corpse. I'm dying. Again. For exactly the five-millionth time.

Happy anniversary, I guess... Whispered the back of his mind.

The world started to fade, growing dark and colorless now that its inhabitants were dying.

I can't keep doing this. Baydran realized. I can't go through this again.

Yes you can. Don't tell me you didn't feel satisfaction when you killed her. Don't you want to do that again? Whispered the Right side of his mind.

Yes! Yes! Kill again! Destroy her! Chimed in the Left. As always, the Front remained silent, quiet and contemplative, never speaking. Somewhere behind his consciousness, Baydran knew he was insane. It didn't really bother him, it was, after all, one of the few things that wasn't the same every day. In a life where every day was spent killing and being killed by the same person, a little unpredictability was refreshing.

Pay attention! She's dying! Called Back.

In front of Bayran, Crycelia melted, dissolving into a pool of liquid gold. She deserved it. She deserved to die. She killed him, tore him apart, ate him piece by piece. Yes, he could kill her again. He would go.

The darkness greeted him.

Edited September 26, 2012 by Observer

[ReaderAt2046]

Pointless bumping

Baydran impaled himself on Crycelia's sword, screaming in pain as the weapon tore through his essence, spew bits of golden light across the charred landscape. He ignored the pain, slicing sideways with his sword and beheading Crycelia in one smooth stroke. He saw himself almost as if from outside, watching as he collapsed to the ground beside his enemy's headless corpse. I'm dying. Again. For exactly the five-millionth time.

Happy anniversary, I guess... Whispered the back of his mind.

The world started to fade, growing dark and colorless now that its inhabitants were dying.

I can't keep doing this. Baydran realized. I can't go through this again.

Yes you can. Don't tell me you didn't feel satisfaction when you killed her. Don't you want to do that again? Whispered the Right side of his mind.

Yes! Yes! Kill again! Destroy her! Chimed in the Left. As always, the Front remained silent, quiet and contemplative, never speaking. Somewhere behind his consciousness, Baydran knew he was insane. It didn't really bother him, it was, after all, one of the few things that wasn't the same every day. In a life where every day was spent killing and being killed by the same person, a little unpredictability was refreshing.

Pay attention! She's dying! Called Back.

In front of Bayran, Crycelia melted, dissolving into a pool of liquid gold. She deserved it. She deserved to die. She killed him, tore him apart, ate him piece by piece. Yes, he could kill her again. He would go.

The darkness greeted him.

Interesting. So obviously these two are immortal, and, guessing from the description, they're probably gods of some sort as well. This world seems to exist only for the two to fight.

How'd they get there in the first place and is there any point to their battle?

[Observer]

Interesting. So obviously these two are immortal, and, guessing from the description, they're probably gods of some sort as well. This world seems to exist only for the two to fight.

How'd they get there in the first place and is there any point to their battle?

I'm debating how life started for their world ATM, but as of now they have, for lack of a better example, Shard-like powers. They can't mess with the world so long as the other is there for fear the other will change something too, so they kill each other every day, preventing opposing change. Very rarely in the world's history has one God killed the other successfully, and the consequences were rediculous. And so the two fight and kill one another endlessly while the rest of the world goes about its business. Baydran isn't the only one who's cracked over the years, though his version of insanity is the most amusing.

Edited September 28, 2012 by Observer

[FeatherWriter]

Okay this technically isn't a first line, but it took me forever to figure out how to phrase it and I'm really proud and I need to share it with someone other than tumblr.

"Oblivion seemed to him a more enviable state than existence."

I'm also rather fond of the line after that:

"Unfortunately, reality found him once more."

Thank you. That is all. Please ignore me and my silly sentences.

[Observer]

Okay this technically isn't a first line, but it took me forever to figure out how to phrase it and I'm really proud and I need to share it with someone other than tumblr.

"Oblivion seemed to him a more enviable state than existence."

I'm also rather fond of the line after that:

"Unfortunately, reality found him once more."

Thank you. That is all. Please ignore me and my silly sentences.

Interesting...

Who prefers oblivion anyways? I've always liked Sky-

sorry, bad joke

Anyways, I like it, though the first one isn't quite as well worded. Insert more babble of things I can't do better myself here.

[FeatherWriter]

Well it actually comes at the end of a paragraph, and then that next line starts the next. I don't know. I just really loved the way it worked in context. I'll post the paragraph, but I'll put it in spoilers because it's fanfiction and I am slightly ashamed...

The tesseract’s power consumed him, filling his vision with nothing but blue. He could no longer feel. There was neither cold nor heat, no sense of up and down. Even his own limbs seemed to have abandoned him, his heartbeat gone silent.

It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling, this nothingness, this nihility. In the tesseract’s anesthetizing embrace, he could imagine that he was truly and completely separated from the universe, detached even from his own self and the unyielding burden of his thoughts and memories. Oblivion seemed to him a more enviable state than existence.

Unfortunately, reality found him once more.

So, yeah. Fanfiction... I ought to be doing other writing things but it's just too fun. That, and I'm kinda proud of this story. Proud of my writing, but ashamed that it's fanfic. It's a strange line to walk.

Edited September 29, 2012 by FeatherWriter

[Observer]

I have a virtual treasure trove of unfinished stories sitting around, all scrapped for some reaosn or another. This one was because of its similarity to Elantris, which I read days after starting.

Only thirty seconds on the job and already I was killing people. I could feel their termination pull at my being as they puffed out, going wherever it is dead people go.

I'm Death you see.

You might be wondering why I kill people like you. You probably envision people jumping off of skyscrapers without getting a scratch, or charging fearlessly into the unknown, unafraid of death. That's not what happened.

The fall from the skyscraper would turn you into a little red stain. The spear that pierced your body would still tear through your heart in a spray of blood. But you wouldn't die. You would sit there, fully conscious as your body and mind shut down, but your soul would never leave.

This is the story of a world where torture takes on a whole new meaning.

This is the story of a bloody war where being stabbed would lead to an eternity of agony.

This is my story.

Edited October 11, 2012 by Observer

[Straff Venture]

I also have problems with feeling my book's theme is too similar to something I've already read. Before reading any BS books, I made a story with a village called 'skaa', read Mistborn and found I couldn't bear keeping the name the same anymore.

But I guess with around 130 million published books in the world, thats probably going to happen from time to time

[Observer]

And the Prologue of the Titless Story...

PROLOGUE

The world exploded. Eleven mages sung their spell.

Bits of rock and steel burst apart as the massive chunk of land ripped itself free from the ground, lifting off into the air. The people atop it scrambled and shouted, frantically trying to find a way to get down. On the other side of the world, another chunk of land tore free, floating off to the side and moving downwards. In the middle of it all stood the circle of ten surrounding the king, their energetic song echoing throughout the battlefield. It was in A-sharp, the key for movement. The ten voices were accompanied by their king, sitting in the middle, plucking away a secondary melody in C, the key for spirit.

The spells had been years in the making, and had been bolstered with several sharps for added effect. Their song thrummed with power, causing small bursts of light to appear around their circle, imitating the sound patterns they were forming. The piece tilted, becoming louder, deeper, and slower. The group’s key shifted into C-sharp, with the king expertly transitioning into A. With a roar the two floating landmasses folded, crunching inward on themselves and puffing into two massive orbs of multicolored light. Instantly the light exploded outwards, blowing the eleven mages backwards with the sheer intensity of sound. The very air shook, the force of the sound splitting apart the broken landscape. The mages stumbled to their feet, slowly rising from the ground, staring almost in disbelief, at the massive craters they had created.

That was it. It was over. After over a thousand years of nothing but fighting, it was over. The two opposing sides had been separated at last, cast away into their own realities, never to do battle again. The king stood, speaking. “We must move quickly to stabilize the spell. In its current form, the loopholes may allow them to temporarily manifest on their opposing planet. We cannot let this war continue!” It was a valid concern, unfortunately. So sad he noticed it, I was starting to like him…

One of the mages stood, grey cloak fluttering. The other ten regarded him with curiosity, looking upwards quizzically. The cloaked figure stood, and with one fluid motion, pulled out a sword and beheaded the king. The others froze in shock, even their expanded minds unable to comprehend what they had just seen. They died quickly and quietly, too surprised to resist. The Philosopher wiped his blade in silence, his illusionary mage guise melting away. The fools. They thought they were ending a war. No, the true war has yet to start. The separation was only the beginning…

[Straff Venture]

Its good to see that you aren't just cramming adjectives into every nook and cranny, observer. Thats one of the mistakes a lot of new writers make. If I may say something, though, it would be that some of it sounds too technical to fit in with continuous prose.

I like the title, even if it can be... misinterpreted

[FeatherWriter]

So I haven't officially started this story yet, but I've got the first line. It's fanfic again, but I think this one might be more up you guys's alley...

Three hundred and forty-five years after the end of the world, Vin woke up to yellow sunlight.

Oops. Alloy-of-Law era Vinlend reunion anyone?

[ReaderAt2046]

So I haven't officially started this story yet, but I've got the first line. It's fanfic again, but I think this one might be more up you guys's alley...

Three hundred and forty-five years after the end of the world, Vin woke up to yellow sunlight.

Oops. Alloy-of-Law era Vinlend reunion anyone?

I think that might have to wait a decade or so, considering that It'll be within a couple of years of Mistborn Trilogy 2. Of course, that time could be cut significantly if we could find a Slider to speed Him up...

[Observer]

Its good to see that you aren't just cramming adjectives into every nook and cranny, observer. Thats one of the mistakes a lot of new writers make. If I may say something, though, it would be that some of it sounds too technical to fit in with continuous prose.

I like the title, even if it can be... misinterpreted

'fraid I don't know what you mean, and it's not really the title, I'm just unable to come up with one :3

Edited October 15, 2012 by Observer

[Kykeon]

The sun had long set, the lights in the village that lay behind us all gone out, its denizens huddling close together in the dark, praying.

Praying for a miracle--us.

It sounded better in my head, but I still like it quite a bit.

[Straff Venture]

'fraid I don't know what you mean, and it's not really the title, I'm just unable to come up with one :3

Keep me posted

I'm still in the outlining stage of mine, but I'll come here when I get to the writing.

[Observer]

I believe this one came about when I decided the old "Hero of Prophecy" trope was overrated.

Exile. This was not the word I had imagined would define my existence. It started with the prophecy, the foretelling of the terrible tyrant who would destroy the world, if not for the aid of a valiant hero. Two weeks ago they showed up on my doorstep, come to kill me for a crime some distant seer had said I would commit.

No, this is not the story of a prophecied hero.

This is the story of the villain.