The Wolf & The Raven Pt. I: The Prelude (Wolven Song Saga)

[TheIllyricist]

The Wolf & The Raven
The Prelude

Mantle of night, the darkness shroud consumes the sky
Winter’s might sings aloud the stab of wind-crooned cry
As the day’s faint warmth bleeds out the body of the kingdom
Dawn faded to dusk, drained golden corpse, embodiment of wisdom
Enlightened blaze eclipsed by nightfall, the domain of horror
This be the land claimed under the still-reign of Aurora

Tired farmers return home, wooden house with a fire
A wife’s loving embrace a welcome place to retire
Hear her humming soft tunes, lullaby
Little boy tucked in as eyes close to dreams of summertime

Green fields painted below the heavenly ocean and the sunrise
Glittering beams, the celestial shine coasts across time
Welcoming the sleeper upon a silver-lined bed
Where weary past fades and forgotten tears go unshed

Farewell to the troubles of the mourning, bliss be the night…

But not all Aurora drifts away to the peaceful streams
Drunken stirs of men hide behind masks, gleeful gleams
Poured upon troubled faces with the sip from a handle
Sweet taste of brimming ale by the dim of a candle
Yet no drink brings back the light of cherished days
Nor revive the faces of remembered brave

Nightwalkers all, lost in a present with no home
Armed only with faint belief in hope to find and atone
Walking the shadows of time fostered halls,
But there was one who walked the darkest corridor of all

Through the icy hiss of winter chill
A stranger walks with bitter will
Hooded and cloaked, a clouded ghost
This man who steps with shrouded hope
Wraith with dusk-shaded eyes in the dark
Fading away, his gaze hides no spark

Deadened grass decays beneath his feet
Colored leaves crunch to defeated beat
His footsteps wander upon The Fallen Plains
As it’s called for the battle it was named
Where the winds whisper tales from the graves
He sees – returning crimson stains
And the faces to the souls he had slain
Their stories etched to the steel of his blade
Written in blood, unwanted history he has claimed…

Midnight strider lost in Aurora; this nation
Buried bones of the kingdom Rouwen beneath its foundation
And these plains are but a pillar to the formation!

Quiet…

The stranger hears an answer to his pain
A single Raven, calling out to his name
Wings of Sorrow glide through the void
But it’s the eyes he tries to avoid
Perched in silence the guilt weighs on his shoulder
His voice is soft: “Can you pray for a soldier?”
Gentle beak taps with the softest touch
Yet the strider reacts with honest disgust

Raven wails across the skies, a tragic hymn
Reflected of him, fluttered tears dance in wind
The droplets utter words to heart within
Fallen echoes remind him of sin
Until he marches on to find comfort in
The things that were and might have been

Lights of the dim, a sign stands at its post
‘The Wolves Den: resign and have a toast’
Weary they come, a traveling host
By old Greywood where peace be the most

The storied place of forested sea
Passed on by greenest leaves, delicate breeze
Yet no life has grown on these desolate trees
Not for years under an endless freeze
Breath of death this malevolent disease
A dragging end to affectionate grief
Sorrow of Old Rouwen passed on to those that believe
Of past and the present the tale that they weaved
With regretful threads still attached to the deceased

A creak as the door opens to the stranger
Dark silhouette of what they see as a ranger
No welcome to outsiders, simply in their nature
A woman’s hate sees but in this can we blame her?

Stalker of the dark dressed as the reaper
“Freak” is the whisper, the name he is keeper
Unholy glare of the void, they perceived him
A demon of nightmares that which they dreamed in
Though unseen, he knows that they’ve seen him
From the legends that would speak grim

He takes his drink and sits alone, a phantom of their hall
Liquid venom numbs the shadow on the wall
The tragic plays performed in his asylum
Are silenced by the poison pool of his quiet island
Where sweetest death greets tired lips
Pondering upon what could be his final sips
Before the last gasp atop the Broken Peaks, private strifes
Ended with a mournful leap released from The Quiet Heights…

Gentle strings tug him free of faraway plane
A single chord echoes ever-laid pain
And all now listen to the forgotten bard
Lute in hand of a man grown hard
Though an angel’s voice still remains
As he begins to sing, his heart in twain
Honey tongue brought to sorrow
Dripping of silver sadness born from tomorrow

The icy heart of the stranger remembers
That singer who will be known forever
As Veril, lost friend found in the embers
Of life’s fire he thought had been ended

Strider amongst the divided
Though united by Veril’s song they are guided

Drifting upon heavenly twine, warmed by wine
And the singer’s voice begins to bind

“These scars, they have burned
For silver stars unreturned
My friends have gone
Beyond the gaze of dawn,
And heaven weeps of mortal sorrow
That bleeds upon the morrow
This song of a long faded lovers' haven
A melodious cry for the Wolf and the Raven…”



LINKS

http://www.rapbattles.com/showthread...-Peaky-Rhymers
http://www.rapbattles.com/showthread...s-(The-Series)

[A Disciple]

OMG... I loved the beginning talking about the stab of the cry like I have to step my game up - this is like professional type unbelievable. When you say aurora do you mean the skies in Alaska? I know it's not called exactly that, but it's what I pictured. This is like really professional to me, like a classic type... You should consider publishing this, I think it's beyond classic... look forward to reading more of your work. Just WoW

[SELF ACTIVATE]

-Edit- my feed here

[Sammy]

Maaaaannnn...this is INSANE, bro...


Look, i know we've chat before about the importance of technical outlooks in regards to an art form that holds strict adherence to rhyming but, even with somewhat basic rhyme and flow, the world you created here was epic as fuck! First off, i really envy your manipulation of the english language. The scene you set was vivid not only to the sight, but the smell, touch even sound! Only thing missing was the taste lol. As all preludes, efforts are often made to setting the scene/world and, i have to say, you did an awesome job with this!

Mantle of night, the darkness shroud consumes the sky
Winter’s might sings aloud the stab of wind-crooned cry
As the day’s faint warmth bleeds out the body of the kingdom
Dawn faded to dusk, drained golden corpse, embodiment of wisdom
Enlightened blaze eclipsed by nightfall, the domain of horror
This be the land claimed under the still-reign of Aurora

ha, i'm dissappointed here, man. Starting a story with a painting of the sky is SOOOOOOO cliche!! Nah, awesome opener here. The metaphor drips with vivid vigor - appropriately applied with an expert's precision. This first stanza introduced us to "Aurora". Perhaps the ruler of the kingdom.

Tired farmers return home, wooden house with a fire
A wife’s loving embrace a welcome place to retire
Hear her humming soft tunes, lullaby
Little boy tucked in as eyes close to dreams of summertime

after the cold desolate exterior of the first stanza, we're comforted with the warm embrace of domestic assurance. Great contrast and way to sketch the players of the story. The fact that i feel the heat and hear the soft lullaby is certainly a testament to writing prowess. Awesome imagery, my dude.

Green fields painted below the heavenly ocean and the sunrise
Glittering beams, the celestial shine coasts across time
Welcoming the sleeper upon a silver-lined bed
Where weary past fades and forgotten tears go unshed

Farewell to the troubles of the mourning, bliss be the night…

The pastel delineation of a town awoken from slumber by the morning sun was absolutely beautiful here, bro. I see a seacoast village where morning starts to bloom. Love that last two lines! When i read that i was like..."damn, wish i wrote that" lol! Great retreading of the "let the past be the past because it's a new day" ideology. Perfectly executed wording.

But not all Aurora drifts away to the peaceful streams
Drunken stirs of men hide behind masks, gleeful gleams
Poured upon troubled faces with the sip from a handle
Sweet taste of brimming ale by the dim of a candle
Yet no drink brings back the light of cherished days
Nor revive the faces of remembered brave

Great dive into the duality of the inhabitants. I always love that kind of stuff. Reminds me of Twins Peak where things aren't always what they seem and the landscape is simply a metaphor for the brewing animalistic nature of man. The last line was very sobering. It definitely allude to some historical event that shaped the town.

Nightwalkers all, lost in a present with no home
Armed only with faint belief in hope to find and atone
Walking the shadows of time fostered halls,
But there was one who walked the darkest corridor of all

I think this stanza gave a glimpse of the uglier side of the village. I feel this is some kind of subculture. Perhaps a commune of hobos or ex soldiers. love the "Walking the shaodws of time fostered halls" ha. That shit just sounds and conjure up a dope as image.

Through the icy hiss of winter chill
A stranger walks with bitter will
Hooded and cloaked, a clouded ghost
This man who steps with shrouded hope
Wraith with dusk-shaded eyes in the dark
Fading away, his gaze hides no spark

This stanza represents the first time i noticed a possible flaw in the wording. "shrouded hope". I fail to see the direction with that specific annotation. Why would he shroud hope? Also the "hide no spark" was a little awkward to read. It almost felt like a double negative, nah mean? But first three lines were pretty much flawless.

Deadened grass decays beneath his feet
Colored leaves crunch to defeated beat
His footsteps wander upon The Fallen Plains
As it’s called for the battle it was named
Where the winds whisper tales from the graves
He sees – returning crimson stains
And the faces to the souls he had slain
Their stories etched to the steel of his blade
Written in blood, unwanted history he has claimed…

"colored leaves crunch to defeated beat" that was fuckin sick! So this gave some minor exposition onto the progressing story. From this stanza, i can assess a great battle call The Fallen Plains was fought in the very area. The cloaked figure seems to be a battle-tested warrior. There maybe a pinch of remorse if i'm reading that last line correctly?

Midnight strider lost in Aurora; this nation
Buried bones of the kingdom Rouwen beneath its foundation
And these plains are but a pillar to the formation!

Quiet…

Nice touch of gothic architecture - grotesque

The stranger hears an answer to his pain
A single Raven, calling out to his name
Wings of Sorrow glide through the void
But it’s the eyes he tries to avoid
Perched in silence the guilt weighs on his shoulder
His voice is soft: “Can you pray for a soldier?”
Gentle beak taps with the softest touch
Yet the strider reacts with honest disgust

I think of all the stanza this was the most solid in a technical perspective. There were semblance of rhyme mechanics scattered about. The metric is more even in this than other stanzas which is usually what contributes to smooth flow. The emergence of the Raven. I"m not sure if the Raven was a manifestation of his guilt as denoted in the 5th line. Overall, a very solid telling of a disturbed individual.

Raven wails across the skies, a tragic hymn
Reflected of him, fluttered tears dance in wind
The droplets utter words to heart within
Fallen echoes remind him of sin

yeah here we go! Again the awesome descriptions fulfilled with strong poetic inclinations bringing a color of ideas and images. But the strength of the stanza is that its not just merely a pretty painting, the content was solid as well. This line stood out and may have been my favorite of the whole piece:
Until he marches on to find comfort in
The things that were and might have been
Alluding to remorse, guilt, longing...all the items necessary to the sketching of hopelessness. This is a very dark character. Reminds me of those Noir films where the internal conflict becomes the stage. I fucks with it.

Lights of the dim, a sign stands at its post
‘The Wolves Den: resign and have a toast’
Weary they come, a traveling host
By old Greywood where peace be the most

What i see here is somekind of medieval forest pub where warriors and scoundrels congregate. I suspect Greywood will be a key character or setting.

The storied place of forested sea
Passed on by greenest leaves, delicate breeze
Yet no life has grown on these desolate trees
Not for years under an endless freeze
Breath of death this malevolent disease
A dragging end to affectionate grief
Sorrow of Old Rouwen passed on to those that believe
Of past and the present the tale that they weaved
With regretful threads still attached to the deceased

I love the allegory here. The juxtaposing of climate and stone-cold killer blood pumping through their vein. Beautiful and dark.

A creak as the door opens to the stranger
Dark silhouette of what they see as a ranger
No welcome to outsiders, simply in their nature
A woman’s hate sees but in this can we blame her?

hmmm...mixed feelings on this stanza. The first two lines didn't read as eloquent previous scribes. Of course you can't write a story consisting mostly of atmosphere and pretty picture, however, the passive language in the 2nd line and last line read very awkward to me.

Stalker of the dark dressed as the reaper
“Freak” is the whisper, the name he is keeper
Unholy glare of the void, they perceived him
A demon of nightmares that which they dreamed in
Though unseen, he knows that they’ve seen him
From the legends that would speak grim

Ha, this stanza reminds me of the movie John Wick. When the Russian mob boss explained to his underling that John Wick is the guy you send after the Boogie Man. In a lair of killers, the Strider enters the wolf's den and is feared by all. Further detailing the character of the Stranger as a man of respect.

He takes his drink and sits alone, a phantom of their hall
Liquid venom numbs the shadow on the wall
The tragic plays performed in his asylum
Are silenced by the poison pool of his quiet island
Where sweetest death greets tired lips
Pondering upon what could be his final sips
Before the last gasp atop the Broken Peaks, private strifes
Ended with a mournful leap released from The Quiet Heights…

A narrative execution worthy of Poe with such dark and gothic landscape with just the right flavor of internal monologue. This was definitely one of my favorite stanza in this whole piece! Battle commence, son!

Gentle strings tug him free of faraway plane
A single chord echoes ever-laid pain
And all now listen to the forgotten bard
Lute in hand of a man grown hard
Though an angel’s voice still remains
As he begins to sing, his heart in twain
Honey tongue brought to sorrow
Dripping of silver sadness born from tomorrow

I felt this was an introduction to a possible love interest. Every story have one of those lol. Of course, again, the engagement was riddled with carefully worded phrase and each phrase packed with Rembrandt like images. Man, that last two lines is dope!

The icy heart of the stranger remembers
That singer who will be known forever
As Veril, lost friend found in the embers
Of life’s fire he thought had been ended

like the "eh" sound carrying throughout. You may have unknowingly stumbled upon some semblance of rhymescheme lol. Regardless, from this passage, its clear the two spirits are old friends. One, i believe, was thought dead??

Strider amongst the divided
Though united by Veril’s song they are guided

Drifting upon heavenly twine, warmed by wine
And the singer’s voice begins to bind

The end of the narrative was understandably a cliff hanger. Will the Stranger be ambushed by this Delilah to his Sampson? Tune in next week, folks, for .....

“These scars, they have burned
For silver stars unreturned
My friends have gone
Beyond the gaze of dawn,
And heaven weeps of mortal sorrow
That bleeds upon the morrow
This song of a long faded lovers' haven
A melodious cry for the Wolf and the Raven…”

I really like how you ended this segment with a song at the end. I'm assuming its a song as its italicized and formatted differently from the other stanzas.

Overall impression, this shit was VERY impressive. Does some stanza boarder on the "verbose"? sure, but, the chiseled sculpting of specific scenes utilizing different senses for effect can NOT be denied. Once you recognize how rhyme schemes can enhance the ambiance and overall strategy of a piece...dude you will be quite the topical Juggernaut. Just a word of advice, i know its sometimes fun to run on for 10 stanzas especially in instances of creative "high" but, to be fair to yourself (Because you quality should be getting some more read), i would cut it short to allow readers to actually indulged in your intricate imaginative world. Woof!

[Emily]

Mantle of night, Classy opening words.the darkness shroud consumes the sky
Winter’s might sings aloud the stab of wind-crooned cry
As the day’s faint warmth bleeds out the body of the kingdom
Dawn faded to dusk, drained golden corpse, embodiment of wisdom
Enlightened blaze eclipsed by nightfall, the domain of horror
This be the land claimed under the still-reign of Aurora

Wow. The tone, pace, and crisp imagery of elegant wording, is to be commended.

Farewell to the troubles of the mourning, bliss be the night…'bliss be the night' is bliss.

This is wonderful writing. You've set a sophisticated scene.





Through the icy hiss of winter chill
A stranger walks with bitter will
Hooded and cloaked, a clouded ghost
This man who steps with shrouded hope
I like the flow. It's easy and clean and clear.
The words set a scene melodically, and with pictures.


Quiet…

The stranger hears an answer to his pain
A single Raven, calling out to his name
Wings of Sorrow glide through the void
But it’s the eyes he tries to avoid
Perched in silence the guilt weighs on his shoulder
His voice is soft: “Can you pray for a soldier?”
I like the honesty in the voice. This last line here, is spot on in every way. I love it.

Raven wails across the skies, a tragic hymn
Reflected of him, fluttered tears dance in wind
The droplets utter words to heart within
Fallen echoes remind him of sin
Until he marches on to find comfort in
The things that were and might have been
This is so poetically pretty. It's got grace about it. The mood, is beautiful.


The storied place of forested sea
Passed on by greenest leaves, delicate breeze
Yet no life has grown on these desolate trees
Not for years under an endless freeze
Breath of death this malevolent disease
A dragging end to affectionate grief
Sorrow of Old Rouwen passed on to those that believe
Of past and the present the tale that they weaved
With regretful threads still attached to the deceased
What? That was amazing. There's so many words in here I want to highlight. There's so much imagery.
So much thought concept, so much song from the heart.

A creak as the door opens to the stranger
Dark silhouette of what they see as a ranger
No welcome to outsiders, simply in their nature
A woman’s hate sees but in this can we blame her?
Your timing and point is obvious. I like where
you take me on travels. It's an adventure.

'Stalker of the dark dressed as the reaper...'
'...Freak” is the whisper,...'
'...Though unseen, he knows that they’ve seen him...'
Line by line of intelligent wording. Bars that pop out and twists and turns.

He takes his drink and sits alone, a phantom of their hall
Liquid venom numbs the shadow on the wall
The tragic plays performed in his asylum
Are silenced by the poison pool of his quiet island
Crafty writing.

'...Where sweetest death greets tired lips...'
That's very sweetly worded.

'...Drifting upon heavenly twine, warmed by wine
And the singer’s voice begins to bind...'

“These scars, they have burned
For silver stars unreturned
My friends have gone
Beyond the gaze of dawn,
And heaven weeps of mortal sorrow
That bleeds upon the morrow
This song of a long faded lovers' haven
A melodious cry for the Wolf and the Raven…”

Wow. What a great outro. This is epic. Its a huge piece full of soul.
It's got so much imagery attached to it, and song I hear so clear.
The story is rich and has been told with a respectable voice and to me,
its got a golden touch. A beautiful atmosphere.
What amazed me was the amount of spectacular lines you had. It's loaded.
I'm in awe of your talent. This is really very good. It looks like a movie.
Moves like a movie. Sounds like a movie. I feel like I watched a movie.
And it's not the length that makes it so, its the sheer abundance of detail woven
into the story line that kept my interest rising. It's your talents that kept painting
the layers.
I don't know what to say.
I really enjoyed this.

Beautiful Read.

[SELF ACTIVATE]

Sorry for the late response, bro. It's been a busy life. Anyway, let's get to it.

"Mantle of night, the darkness shroud consumes the sky
Winter’s might sings aloud the stab of wind-crooned cry
As the day’s faint warmth bleeds out the body of the kingdom
Dawn faded to dusk, drained golden corpse, embodiment of wisdom
Enlightened blaze eclipsed by nightfall, the domain of horror
This be the land claimed under the still-reign of Aurora"

^Hmmm...interesting. Very elegant language. It reads like a Celtic or Anglo-Saxon poem (myth or lore). Not quite sold on the rhyme scheme tho. Too many near rhymes that don't fully connect. But still a template of flow is there and the story seems creative.

"Tired farmers return home, wooden house with a fire
A wife’s loving embrace a welcome place to retire
Hear her humming soft tunes, lullaby
Little boy tucked in as eyes close to dreams of summertime

Green fields painted below the heavenly ocean and the sunrise
Glittering beams, the celestial shine coasts across time
Welcoming the sleeper upon a silver-lined bed
Where weary past fades and forgotten tears go unshed

Farewell to the troubles of the mourning, bliss be the night…

But not all Aurora drifts away to the peaceful streams
Drunken stirs of men hide behind masks, gleeful gleams
Poured upon troubled faces with the sip from a handle
Sweet taste of brimming ale by the dim of a candle"

^This is dope! Beautiful imagery and storytelling displayed here. The terminology seems appropriate and the flow is more loose and fluid. Great passage of writing.


"Yet no drink brings back the light of cherished days
Nor revive the faces of remembered brave

Nightwalkers all, lost in a present with no home
Armed only with faint belief in hope to find and atone
Walking the shadows of time fostered halls,
But there was one who walked the darkest corridor of all

Through the icy hiss of winter chill
A stranger walks with bitter will
Hooded and cloaked, a clouded ghost
This man who steps with shrouded hope
Wraith with dusk-shaded eyes in the dark
Fading away, his gaze hides no spark

Deadened grass decays beneath his feet
Colored leaves crunch to defeated beat
His footsteps wander upon The Fallen Plains
As it’s called for the battle it was named
Where the winds whisper tales from the graves
He sees – returning crimson stains
And the faces to the souls he had slain
Their stories etched to the steel of his blade
Written in blood, unwanted history he has claimed…"

^I'm assuming this is making the HOF. Just fanstastic stuff. "Leaves crunch...stories etched to blades." ... just
Insanely imaginative and skillfully written.

"Midnight strider lost in Aurora; this nation
Buried bones of the kingdom Rouwen beneath its foundation
And these plains are but a pillar to the formation!

Quiet…

The stranger hears an answer to his pain
A single Raven, calling out to his name
Wings of Sorrow glide through the void
But it’s the eyes he tries to avoid
Perched in silence the guilt weighs on his shoulder
His voice is soft: “Can you pray for a soldier?”
Gentle beak taps with the softest touch
Yet the strider reacts with honest disgust

Raven wails across the skies, a tragic hymn
Reflected of him, fluttered tears dance in wind
The droplets utter words to heart within
Fallen echoes remind him of sin
Until he marches on to find comfort in
The things that were and might have been"

^That last line...so somber and poetic. Hit like a ton of bricks...true impact in the wording. Everything else was incredibly captivating.


"Lights of the dim, a sign stands at its post
‘The Wolves Den: resign and have a toast’
Weary they come, a traveling host
By old Greywood where peace be the most

The storied place of forested sea
Passed on by greenest leaves, delicate breeze
Yet no life has grown on these desolate trees
Not for years under an endless freeze
Breath of death this malevolent disease
A dragging end to affectionate grief
Sorrow of Old Rouwen passed on to those that believe
Of past and the present the tale that they weaved
With regretful threads still attached to the deceased

A creak as the door opens to the stranger
Dark silhouette of what they see as a ranger
No welcome to outsiders, simply in their nature
A woman’s hate sees but in this can we blame her?

Stalker of the dark dressed as the reaper
“Freak” is the whisper, the name he is keeper
Unholy glare of the void, they perceived him
A demon of nightmares that which they dreamed in
Though unseen, he knows that they’ve seen him
From the legends that would speak grim

He takes his drink and sits alone, a phantom of their hall
Liquid venom numbs the shadow on the wall
The tragic plays performed in his asylum
Are silenced by the poison pool of his quiet island
Where sweetest death greets tired lips
Pondering upon what could be his final sips
Before the last gasp atop the Broken Peaks, private strifes
Ended with a mournful leap released from The Quiet Heights…"

^You have so much to say...I have so little left. I can only tell you it's incredible over and over. So many quote worth lines.

"Gentle strings tug him free of faraway plane
A single chord echoes ever-laid pain
And all now listen to the forgotten bard
Lute in hand of a man grown hard
Though an angel’s voice still remains
As he begins to sing, his heart in twain
Honey tongue brought to sorrow
Dripping of silver sadness born from tomorrow

The icy heart of the stranger remembers
That singer who will be known forever
As Veril, lost friend found in the embers
Of life’s fire he thought had been ended

Strider amongst the divided
Though united by Veril’s song they are guided

Drifting upon heavenly twine, warmed by wine
And the singer’s voice begins to bind

“These scars, they have burned
For silver stars unreturned
My friends have gone
Beyond the gaze of dawn,
And heaven weeps of mortal sorrow
That bleeds upon the morrow
This song of a long faded lovers' haven
A melodious cry for the Wolf and the Raven…”"

^Wow...had a couple lines that made me pause and reflect on what you just said..."stars unreturned". Epic!

Truly epic!

[Judge Mentill]

There's not much I can say that hasn't already been said about this piece. This is some great work illy. It felt like some ancient saga being sung about in a tavern on game of thrones or something. Your short line structure worked with the vivid imagery, you kept it fast paced but vividly illustrated. The word choice was slick and consistent, the rhyme scheme worked well for this more poetically driven type of piece as well.

I look forward to reading the sequel.

[Joe Boston]

On my phone sorry cant give full break down:

But i agree with judge here i definitely got a game of thrones imagery out of this piece. Your choice of vocab definitely made this stick out metaphorically i liked the way u described in abjective format. Its very poetic in a,way.

[whoami]

I don't want to beat a dead horse here, so my feedback will be brief. One reason is because I hate being redundant and the other reason is that I can't truly offer a legitimate critique as an author or editor when I simply enjoy it as much as I do as a reader. Sure, there are a couple of things I can suggest to keep in mind for future writing, but that doesn't mean you need to go back and edit this piece at all.

You are very well versed in the realm of writing. You have a lot of literary knowledge, that much is evident. You are familiar with different literary devices, that much is evident as well. You are a very adept storyteller and have an interesting choice of diction that wholeheartedly appeals to me in a very nerdy fanboyish manner. Your writing is like a homage to literary classics as you have a very antiquated-flavor of poetic style that is immensely enjoyable. When it comes to evoking emotion and depicting imagery, you excel in these arenas.

The only areas that I can suggest you focus on for future writings is the area of flow and rhyme schemes. When it comes to the nature of our writings within this particular forum, I am always looking for a fluid flow and ridiculously sick rhyme schemes. I do feel like given your current repertoire of writing tools, these two literary elements are where you can elevate to send your writing into higher levels of exaltation. When it comes to flow and schemes, what really aids these elements is the usage of assonance, consonance, alliteration, and multis. I don't want to insult your intelligence by explaining these characteristics because I presume you know what all of these are, but if you don't or if you just happen to have general questions that you think I might be able to answer, feel free to ask me. I think if you especially start implementing multis you will tremendously elevation in your style of writing.

Not to come off as pretentious, but I feel like I have a good handle when it comes to crafting a good flow with the usage of multis, assonance, and alliteration. That shit is like my bread and butter. I teeter back and forth between displaying an abundance of imagery and emotion. I can definitely improve on my storytelling, as well as my depiction of imagery and evocation of emotion. If I had your creativity and ability to craft a story with vivid imagery and appealing emotion, I would be a beast in my opinion. Likewise, and my ultimate point, if you started to elevate your rhyme schemes and flow, you would be an absolute beast in the topical arena, hands down. None of this is to say that you are bad at all; you are a very good writer. I think these are the niche categories that you can focus on to really take your writing to a completely different level. This feedback is more of a general feedback from the few pieces I've read from you.

Specific to this piece, the only suggestions are listed above. Everything else about this story is awesome, creative, intriguing, and entertaining. Like, who am I to say what is wrong or right here? You crafted a great story and I absolutely look forward to reading part two. In regards to my earlier comments on flows, schemes, and multis, I absolutely recognize your use of multis throughout the story. In my opinion, the ideal would be for every syllable to rhyme to the point that the entire written is a multi, if that makes sense. In other words, more multis equals a better flow. And that is for a few reasons, such as a balanced structure, the metering, and correlating rhyme. But this is the ideal for a flawless flow and not necessarily a flawless piece overall. Of course, there are many literary elements to be utilized to craft a written of epic proportions. For the record, your flow is very nice as is within this piece, don't get me wrong. Your usage of terse lines is very compelling and allows the whole story to flow smoothly.

I really like the conclusion here, specifically with the poem. At first I was getting more of a Lord of the Rings vibe throughout my reading, but when I read the concluding poem I now share that same sentiment of the Game of Thrones vibe. Very cool piece, very good writing, and awesome job all around. Thanks for sharing! Can't wait to read part two.

Edit: Also for the record, I would have nominated this piece for HOF myself but Emily has already done so. I will mention this in my nomination post, however, in case it has any affect whatsoever over it's selection for HOF. This shit is easily worthy of HOF, there's no doubt about that.