Dim splashes of candlelight flared to life and quickly danced away down the adjoining pipelines, illuminating the slimy walls of the sewer. Pekko hunched low beneath his jet black cloak and melded into the shadows of the room, listening. Splashing footsteps echoed on all sides of him and down the lengths of the city-like sewage system, resonating dully in his ears. So far he’d managed to remain undetected, unscathed, hidden by the innumerable tunnels that stretched for miles and miles around him. But his luck could easily change. His heart raced - his harsh intake of breath broke the silence as the sound of many feet stomped by in the distance…heavily armoured feet at that. He reminded himself that he couldn’t stay long in any one place. They were close.
“You’re mine.” came a sudden strong and steely voice behind him. Pekko spun in surprise, his hands deftly sliding to the hilts on his belt buckle in a single smooth motion. He searched the darkness surrounding him; his eyes were sharp and adjusted to night, but it was hard to make out any identifiable forms. Still he scanned frantically.
A low pitched laugh gurgled forth, followed by a voice that vibrated in a throat thick with deceit. “You can stop running now. I am here to claim you.” The deep laughter began anew, drawing nearer and nearer until a hulking shape loomed at the edge of Pekko’s vision. Framed by a dark grey hood, the face of the newcomer seemed murky and mysterious. But the eyes…yes, the eyes, they were darker than the surrounding gloom. Like an abysmal pit stretching into the depths of oblivion, those eyes, drowned in the blackest of nights, pulled at Pekko’s soul. Without much warning the figure hissed forward in a beautifully executed lunge.
The hunter within flared to life…Pekko’s training and reflexes took complete command. He dropped into a roll purely on instinct and sprang to his left, nimbly coming to his feet in a run. A soft whirring sound warned him of a projectile and in a skilled motion re-diverted his run into a desperate dive, barely evading the deadly throw. Another hum flashed in Pekko’s ears and this time the spiky weapon bit deep into his light leather-skin tunic and beyond, deeply implanting in his skin. ****! Grunting, he haphazardly leapt and turned backwards as he fell, pulling free two of his own vast arsenal of daggers before he even hit the ground. He twirled them both violently and a thunk of metal meeting flesh signified a hit…but the dark-eyed man only roared with more wicked laughter.
“Over there!” a bubble of light suddenly pierced the haze, silhouetting the massive figure before Pekko. The clacking of iron boots announced the arrival of a gang of armed guards, their glaring lanterns reflecting off their tabard-covered chainmail. In the blinding, fiery illumination Pekko stole a glance at the soulless man’s eyes and all of his emotions came to an icy, bitter halt. He blanched in horror as he realized…It was a Dreadknight - an assassin commanded by only the highest order of criminals, wizards and the most illustrious of kings. Or in other words those with enough coin to buy the deadly services of such a brutally efficient killer. Pekko’s masters just so happened to be of a notoriously rich sort, but it didn’t explain why the assassin was hunting HIM. At least it explained the creepy laughter…
“Oi, well, what do we ‘ave here? Looks like a ******* party of dead-men-walking. Let’s show ‘em, boys!” The burly leader of the soldiers leapt to the forefront of the group with his nostrils flaring, bloodlust apparent as his peril was not yet realized. The dark assassin swirled to meet the challenge. With a solid clank of metal and the creaking of leather the lead man took another step forward and drew forth his huge two-handed blade. Three more guards flanked his position, each armed with swords and square shields, quickly nearing their unexpected deaths to the violent wiles of the Dreadknight.
Abruptly, a lone guard came bursting into the dancing lantern light from a side tunnel. A grim expression swirled on his lips as his sights set firmly on Pekko. With a brilliant flick of muscle Pekko regained his feet and pulled free a second set of daggers. He sent one flying, spinning and then ripping viciously into the guard’s throat. With blood spewing forth the man dropped in a heap. Bursting into movement Pekko dashed right, thinking it time to make a stealthy escape. His aim was one of the six exits he knew lined the room. Adrenaline running high made his thoughts turn anxiously inward…What in the nine hells does a Dreadknight want with me?!
With the assassin distracted he hoped he could make a run for it, but he soon realized the error of his judgment. Directly in front of him a light and the echoing sound of yet more boots on wet stone emerged, completely blocking his first choice of escape. ****! What have I gotten myself into! Pekko thought for what must’ve been the tenth time. He spun back towardCan you taste my battlelust in this fantasy excerpt? (Looking for serious critiques/feedback!)?I started to skim after the first few paragraphs, but not because it was boring. It's because my eyes are tired and reading off of a computer screen isn't helping. From what I read, this isn't bad, but damn. You use a lot of adjectives. Try to cut back on how much description you pack into a sentence.
You have to think of your writing as a garden. Adjectives and adverbs and any kind of over-description are weeds. You have to weed your garden, otherwise it'll be a mess.Can you taste my battlelust in this fantasy excerpt? (Looking for serious critiques/feedback!)?Wow, it's really good but there is a little too much adjectives. It's good to keep it simple and let the readers do some of the imagining.Can you taste my battlelust in this fantasy excerpt? (Looking for serious critiques/feedback!)?That's really, really, really excellent you are very talented I think its really well written and if this was in a bookshop I'd definitely buy it.
