A start

[Anumesa]

[Ok...so i've wanted to write a story for awhile...and over the past few months, ive written several beginnings, several endings...but no story. Well this time ive started again, since i was bored the other night, and im hoping by posting it on the forum, i will be encouraged to finish it. Please feel free to comment with ideas, thoughts, corrections etc, as all would be most welcome ]

The trouble began with the clanging of pots and the crashing of plates.  It was a very abrupt start to Ely's day, and the loud clamor had her up and out of bed within seconds, bolting down the stairs without even her slippers. Early morning light poured in through every window in the townhouse, but she scarcely noticed as she ran frantically to the source of the commotion. Quick past the study, down one more flight of stairs and Ely came to an abrupt halt. There, sitting in amidst many fallen pans and broken crockery, with tears pouring down her flour-coated chubby face, sat Gimma, looking as if her world had broken along with the kitchenware. Ely gingerly tip-toed through the debris and crouched by the old Xacha, grabbing ahold of one hefty arm to help her to her feet.
   
        “Now, now Gimma, what has you in such mood this morning, eh?” She smiled at the old cook, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat.
   â€śWhy Miss Ely, tis' nothin' really...Jus' a bit of bad luck” Gimma scrubbed at her face, but only succeeded in making herself even more of a floury mess. Ely looked around at the debris and bent to pick up a piece of broken plate, shaking her head gently as she looked back up.
   â€śWell this doesn't seem like nothing to me..What in Yliakum happened here?” Ely quickly grabbed a nearby stool and slid it behind Gimma's extensive posterior, just as she began to sway suddenly. Gimma collapsed onto the offered stool and gave Ely a look of gratitude, wiping her face once more.
   â€śWell Miss, it went like this, see? I was jus' sittin' here cookin' some bread, see? An' all of a sudden, this....this....THING, comes crashin' through that window, there” She waved one pudgy hand to the far side of the kitchen, where indeed, the window was smashed, the shutter hanging by one iron hinge.
   
        "Well, I says to m'self 'Self, you can let that....THING...mess up your kitchen, an' smush your breads into bits, OR, ye can teach it a lesson or two' “ Gimma waved her other hand to her right, where her large broom lay broken in two.
   â€śSo, I get the broom, an' start chasin' him alllll around the kitchen, see? An' FINALLY, he leaves..but not before grabbing my nice fresh bread an' takin' it wiv him!!” Her bottom lip started wobbling dangerously, and Ely hastily grabbed a nearby hand-towel to daub at her eyes, which were beginning to leak again. Ely sighed and carefully maneuvered her way across the kitchen to the broken  broom, so she could begin cleaning up the mess. This certainly was not what she had been planning for today.
   
         A few hours later, the kitchen was cleaned, an order was out for new plates, and Gimma was bustling around the kitchen, humming happily to herself as she prepared a fresh loaf of bread. Ely was finally able to retreat back upstairs to her room to change, pausing a few moments in front of her boudoir before selecting her favorite violet dress. The dress had been a gift from one of her various aunts, she couldn't quite recall which one, and despite several patches and a frayed hem, it still remained her favorite. Her mother had come from a family of nine girls, which certainly made family gatherings quite interesting, if not chaotic. A quick glance in the mirror proved why this dress was her favorite; her hazel eyes absolutely popped, and her dark hair seemed to shine even brighter, each vagrant curl falling perfectly into place. Ely grinned to herself and did a quick twirl in front of the mirror before dashing back downstairs towards the front door. She briefly paused by the entrance and bent down by a large red vase, carefully plucking a book from behind its glossy sides and stowing it safely among her skirts. Then with an impish grin, she bolted out the door onto the streets of Hydlaa.
   
          Ely soon paid for her hastiness, and was nearly run over by an ostentatious looking Diaboli, wielding a large ladle and several giant brown bags. Was it not for his loud “Harrumph!”, Ely would surely have been trampled. She giggled and shook her head, watching him stomp farther down the road, a stormy expression now clouding his dark face.
   â€śSorry Mister!!” Ely shrugged to herself, and then briefly scanned the street for any more travelers before flying down the hill towards the plaza. She stopped short at the bottom of the hill and turned down an alley instead, finally stopping at the foot of a large, gnarly tree. Its tall arms twisted and stretched past even the rooftops, the leaves creating a natural dome of green shading most of the small back alley. Ely carefully removed both shoes and leapt up to grasp the nearest branch, swinging easily up into the tree. She managed to climb halfway up the tree with no problems, until suddenly she realized she had stepped onto the wrong branch. The next logical step was far too high for her to reach with just her feet, she would have to cling to a higher branch and swing to it. Ely sighed irritably and grasped the higher branch tightly, preparing to swing. Yet, fortune was not on her side that day, and the second her feet left the branch beneath her, her hands began to slip. Ely swung back and forth wildly, trying to reach the next branch with her toes, yet to no avail. Finally, just as the last ounce of strength left her fingers, she felt an arm around her waist, pulling her back to safety. A dry chuckle pierced the silence over her left shoulder, and Ely immediately grimaced.

   â€śTirin unhand me this instant!” She gripped another branch and turned wildly to face the laughing Dermorian.
   â€śM'lady should be a tad more careful climbing trees, eh?” His grin grew even wider, as he surveyed her face with his wide green eyes. “One might slip and fall, and THEN what on earth would I say to your father?” Ely huffed angrily and carefully climbed back down to another branch to climb back up the correct way. Finally she reached her destination, and easily swung onto one of the rooftops, quickly followed by Tirin, who was never more then a step behind her when climbing trees.
   â€śTirin? What would you have done if I fell?” Ely found it impossible to be mad at the  dermorian...he was just so impossibly CUTE! Tirin grinned impishly and gently chucked Ely under the chin.
   â€śWhy miss, do you doubt my catching skills? I would have sprouted wings and flown you to the ground, just as steady as you please” He quickly vaulted to the tallest part of the roof and sat in his customary place, facing the plaza. Ely made a face at him for his cheekiness, and wandered to sit beside him.
   â€śI thought you couldn't come today anyways...weren't you supposed to be training with your father?” she smiled and pulled the book from her skirts “Look, I even brought something to do by myself” She flipped through the pages, displaying a multitude of sketches and drawings of the plaza.

[Taniquetil]

I love it! Keep it up, I hope you decide to write the rest. That was a great beginning and it definitely got me hooked.

[Dihenis]

I like the *purple* dress 

[Mrokii]

While I don't like the storyline itself (just because I am more into "dramatic" or "fearsome" stories and this is just a little to cute ), I like how it's written, how you described it. Definitely a very good start, imho.

[Anumesa]

[Just wrote this now...im not sure what i think and i have NO idea where this plot is going  Maybe i should plan a bit before writing the next bit  Anyways...as always, thoughts, ideas, comments, criticism are all welcome]



Tirin grinned and gently tugged the book from her hands, idly flipping through the drawings
   â€śWhen will you tell your father about this?” He paused on one drawing, his own face smiling back up at him from the page. “This is really good stuff Ely, you should tell him!” Ely reached over and snapped the book closed, taking it back from Tirin with a sigh..
   â€ťHe wants me to be a baker! My mother was a baker, my grandmother was a baker...” Tirin interjected, "But you want to be a painter!" She sighed again and returned the book to a pocket in her skirt, gently smoothing the fabric around its edges. "..But who is going to run the bakery when she is gone?" Tirin shook his head; it was a lost cause, this had been argued to death over the years and she was stubborn as a Yulbar when it came to anything involving her father. He smiled inwardly and decided to try another tactic, gently taking ahold of her chin and raising her lips to his.
   â€śWell when will you tell him about this? Hmm?” He murmured softly as he kissed her, knowing full well that it would drive her crazy. His plan worked and Ely immediately gave up, a smile lighting up her face like early morning crystal light.
   â€śOh very well then....soon...i promise!" Ely grinned at Tirin earnestly "Oh shoot..." She broke away from Tirin and peered over the edge of the roof to try to see her shoes, “I have to go! I forgot I promised Mother I would help her today.." she started to climb back down the tree, "baking loaves for that party..” she was halted by Tirin, who coyly stole one more kiss.
   â€śOh... YOU! I will be late!” she giggled and quickly descended the tree to grab her shoes from the ground. Ely peered back up at the roof to meet Tirin's smiling gaze.
   â€śSee you tomorrow?”
   â€śSure thing” he grinned and waved goodbye as Ely blew him a kiss and ran back out to the road. She had not gone but three steps when strong arms were around her, pushing her head into a bag, and fastening her arms tightly behind her back. Suddenly a sharp blow descended upon her, and she fell to her knees, losing all consciousness.

[Marqsaynt]

[The following is just one person’s opinion and can be completely disregarded. ]

I really liked a lot of the imagery you used but, didn’t find your dialogue quite as crisp as the actions and descriptions. It didn’t seem to me like it was necessarily poor dialogue but just needed a few little tweaks. Hopefully the following will make it a little bit more clear what I mean.


Original Dialogue:

Tirin: “When will you tell your father about this? That you want to be painter?” (Blows the surprise that she wants to be a painter in the very first line)

Tirin (cont’d): “This is really good stuff Ely, you should tell him!

Ely: ”He wants me to be a cook! My mother was a cook, my grandmother was a cook...who is going to run the bakery when she is gone? There is no way he would ever let me be a painter” (First sentence works nicely, gives background to why Ely has this problem without feeling forced. Second sentence would be all right if we hadn’t already picked up on the fact her father wouldn’t approve from the first sentence. Remember, readers are “occasionally” smarter than a lot of writers give them credit for. )


Switched Around Dialogue Version:

Tirin grinned and gently tugged the book from her hands, idly flipping through the drawings.
“When will you tell your father about this?” He paused on one drawing, his own face smiling back up at him from the page. “This is really good stuff Ely, you should tell him!” Ely reached over and snapped the book closed, taking it back from Tirin with a sigh… “He wants me to be a cook! My mother was a cook, my grandmother was a cook...” Tiren interjected, “But you want to be a painter.” She sighed again and returned the book to a pocket in her skirt, gently smoothing the fabric around its edges. “Who is going to run the bakery when she is gone?” Tirin shook his head; it was a lost cause, this had been argued to death over the years and she was stubborn as a Yulbar when it came to anything involving her father.

Green = non-original


New Dialogue Flow:

Tiren “When will you tell your father about this?”

Tiren (Cont’d): “This is really good stuff Ely, you should tell him!”

Ely: “He wants me to be a cook! My mother was a cook, my grandmother was a cook...”

Tiren: “But you want to be a painter.”

Ely: “Who is going to run the bakery when she is gone?”

[With one minor exception, it’s all your original dialogue just rearranged a bit. This way it builds up to the “I want to be a painter” reveal and why it is such a huge dilemma for Ely. Hopefully it also reads a bit more naturally, like the reader is overhearing a real conversation, not one that is specifically contrived to bluntly tell a reader what they need to know. With just a little bit more attention, I think your dialogue could be as awesomely crafted as the actions in your story. (The first kitchen scene paragraph was great by the way. Keep up the good work!]

[Anumesa]

Oh thank you!!!!! Dialogue is definitely one of my weak points since i usually write stories without it. This helps so much and makes a lot more sense

*edits up a storm*

[Anumesa]

Tirin carefully ascended to a higher seat on the roof so he could see the entire expanse of the plaza before him. As he lay back and let the crystal light warm his skin, he couldn't help but think about Ely. The pretty dermorian girl had been his friend since he had first come to Hydlaa. The move from his secluded dermorian village to the busy hustle and bustle of Hydlaa hadn't been easy, but she had just shown up one day with that brilliant smile, and from that point onward everything had been perfect. The only obstacle he had ever encountered was her father....the man was stubborn as a lame yulbar! Completely bent on the idea of his daughter inheriting the bakery, he had set her on a strict regimental course to achieve this end. Ely was to be at the bakery every day from dawn to dusk, standing alongside her mother and learning the many ancient tricks and recipes that she prided herself on. Ely's mother was somewhat oblivious to her daughter's misery; she assumed that since she, herself, loved baking, then logically Ely did too. The idea that someone could NOT love baking was completely beyond her, and so she ignorantly supported Ely's father.

   Tirin sighed and turned to glance down at the plaza. A strange looking diaboli was making his way across the plaza with a very large brown sack held over his shoulder. Tirin squinted his eyes to try to get a better look; this diaboli was clearly new to Hydlaa, as he kept stopping to look at the street signs. Finally, he seemed to realize where he was, and strode off determinately in the direction of the sewers. Bored with watching this stranger, Tirin decided to head home and made his way back down the roof. He nimbly descended the tree and made his way out of the alley yet paused when he noticed Ely's book laying in the middle of the street. He picked it up and began instead making his way to the bakery to return it.

   Upon reaching the bakery, Tirin wandered in to the back kitchens where he found Ely's mother up to her eyebrows in a large vat of dough. She sneezed loudly and a small cloud of flour briefly surrounded her face. After blinking several times, she noticed Tirin and smiled.
   â€śTirin child! What brings you to the bakery?” She absently tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, the flour making a stark contrast against her dark hair.
   â€śCan I talk to Ely for a minute?” Tirin deftly hid the book behind his back “She erm...left something by accident..” He was hesitant to mention their secret meeting spot. Ely's father would surely forbid that too if he found out.
   â€śSorry dear, she hasn't arrived yet” She turned back to the large vat and began working at the dough vigorously, not noticing the bewildered expression on Tirin's face “But, she left quite some time ago and said she was coming here,” He frowned and looked around the tiny bakery.
   â€śI did think it strange that she was late” Ely's mother shrugged “Perhaps she went home to change first, why dont you check there, dear?” Tirin nodded and gave a quick wave before headed back towards Ely's house.
   
        She wasn't at home either. Gimma shook her broad head at Tirin and pointed down the street.
   â€śPerhap she was at the bakery?” but Tirin frowned “No, I was just there...” Where in Hydlaa was Ely? She was definitely not one to just wander off, or change her destination plans to easily. He could not think of one other place that she might be, and so gave up and headed home for the day. He decided to risk the wrath of her father and check back later that night.

[Anumesa]

   Ely woke up in complete darkness with the worst headache imaginable. She squinted her eyes painfully and struggled to discern something of her surroundings. From what she could tell, there was a tiny stool to her left with a wooden cup and plate on top. She slid her palms across the cool stone floor and discovered a straw pallet to her right. She leaned closer to the pallet and tried to figure out if it was even large enough to sleep on.
     "GROSS!!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust "Who does the laundry here?" The immediate incineration of all her nose hair alerted her to the clear presence of mold and Ely decided that the cold stone floor seemed a lot more inviting at the moment. She slid back on her palms and used her feet to push the repulsive straw pallet as far from her as she could.

   After letting her eyes adjust a few more minutes to the darkness, Ely was able to make out that she was in a tiny circular cell, about 10 feet in diameter, with no visible door. She tilted her head back to gaze at the ceiling and was just able to make out the presence of cold iron bars crossing the top of her prison. She started swearing in a very unladylike fashion, getting more and more upset as her voice echoed into the silence. Where was Tirin? How did this happen? Hot angry tears start pouring down her face and she furiously scrubbed at them with the hem of her skirt. If only she had asked him to escort her to the bakery, or perhaps let him distract her for just a minute longer...she shivered--now was certainly NOT the time to be thinking about kissing Tirin.

  It seemed like hours later, though it could have just been minutes, when a light finally appeared through the bars at the top of her prison. Ely winced and covered her eyes immediately.
  "Hey! Let me out of here!" she peered angrily up at the ceiling from beneath her hand "Hey! You!" she stomped her foot and started to pound on the walls with one hand "Let me out! I know you can hear me!" There was silence from the roof of her cell except for a slight scraping noise as whomever stood over her shifted slowly from foot to foot.

[blahhh im too busy to write this...but heres a tidbit for now I still have no idea where this is going XD ]

[Beniel]

I really have enjoyed both your story and writing style, Anumesa. I really do look forward to seeing how the rest of the story progresses.

Just a couple of possible errors:

...what on earth would I say to your father?” Ely humphed angrily and carefully climbed...

(1st post)

Maybe harrumphed or huffed, possibly?

This one isn't really an error, but in your 2nd post, Ely says her parents want her to be a "cook". It might be better to use "baker" here, as you have her mum working at a bakery, not a restaurant or something. Also makes things clearer as Gimma is also a "cook".

Of course it is up to you if you feel these changes are needed

In any case good job with the story, keep it up

[Anumesa]

   Ely scrambled around the circular wall of her prison, finally tripping and falling headlong into a pile of....potatoes? Ely glanced up at the ceiling "You are keeping me prisoner in a potato bin??" she couldn't help but laugh at her ridiculous predicament. At her mocking laughter, the top of her prison was lifted away and a familiar face peeked down at her.
 "Hey! Its not funny, its not like we kidnap people on a regular basis.." Ely's eyes grew wide as realization dawned on her.. "Uncle Feldmar?" the hideously ugly face peering down at her was none other then the estranged brother of her father, an unfortunate combination of genes that had inherited her grandmother's beak of a nose and her grandfather's chronic acne. He ran a competing bakery on the other side of Hydlaa, and had been trying to buy her parents' bakery for years.

  "Let me OUT of here! What are you doing kidnapping your own relatives?" She glared up at her uncle, who, to his credit, managed to look a tad embarassed. He immediately began scraping around and finally a ladder was lowered.
  "Well, ok, maybe i took it a bit far...but your father needs to sell his bakery." He stomped his foot like a whiney child and screwed up his face in anger
  "I'm barely selling anyyythinngg anymore, and i just need his bakery. He refuses to budge so you are going to be my leverage." He grinned at Ely proudly as his 'brilliant' scheme was unfolded.

  Ely sighed, the loss of her parents' bakery certainly was to her advantage. The bakery was immensely popular and they had easily earned enough tria to live comfortably for the rest of their lives without working. She grinned wickedly at her uncle,
  "How would you like it if i helped you get the bakery?" Ely watched as her Uncle's dim expression slowly brightened with realization..
  "Y-you would help me get their bakery?" Feldmar scratched his hairy ear thoughtfully as he spoke "Well ok then, what will we do?"
Ely rubbed both hands together and grinned, glancing around the small house "Do you have any paper?"

[After debating this for awhile...i decided to go for an amusing family quarrel instead of some evil villian a) because the story will be shorter, and b) i just don't want to deal with thinking up a whole evil scheme XD thoughts and comments are always welcome ]

[Beniel]

I was actually a bit worried about where the story was going before this last post (I had in my mind a stereotypical villain (Elys captor) vs her knight in shining armour (Tirin), the standard damsel in distress sort of story). So I think going for the family quarrel was a much better option 

[Anumesa]

[I promise ill come back and finish this at some point. I just need to find the time ]