Shrouded horizon. An Inquisitor's tale (to be continued)

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**Lord of Kaith**

Blood.

I skidded through a puddle of the foul-smelling stuff. It was battle, and battle was chaos. The world seemed to pound ceaselessly, and everything was so fast. I scrabbled over a fallen comrade as Orks mobbed over the barricade, howling their blood-cries and mutilating the corpses of the men who had made up the gunline as they surged forward. A dozen made it over the barricade before the men around me could react, and hundreds more could be seen beyond.

One of the orks spotted me, crouched on the ground, and lifting his blood-covered sword, he dashed toward me. I lifted my lasgun; against all odds it held against the first slash, and the ork's weapon caught in it; I twisted the gun away, then yanking my knife free of its scabbard on my belt, I lunged into the Ork, ripping his throat out in a spray of blood. The ork made an awful braying noise and fell back, clutching at his throat; another boy replaced him, shouldering past his dying fellow Ork in an attempt to assault me and satisfy his bloodlust. The rest of my fellows fell away. Cowards, I thought. The Emperor pays those who follow him for their deeds.

A Kasrkin intercepted him, bludgeoning the Ork with a series of swift and brutal blows from his gun butt. I staggered to my feet and tried to avoid vomiting at the sight of the red blood spilling over my hand, my arm, my shirt; the smell of it was maddening. I looked up just in time to see a Nob rip the Kasrkin from shoulder to armpit. In the five seconds before he reached me, I readied a grenade; indescribable pain filled me as the Nob's weapon made contact. With my dying breath I yanked the pin from the grenade.

STOPPING POINT

Really sucky place to leave off at, but I lack inspiration for what will happen next. Comments and criticism welcome, I'll try and update this story weekly. For the record, this section was told from the point of view of a Cadian Shock Trooper, and not the Inquisitor's.

**Anshal**

Hmm good story, but perhaps make the update chapters a bit longer

**DarkHound**

What bothered me was that the character knew the codex names for everything. Don't call a Boy a boy, it makes him sound less menacing. Don't call a Nob a Nob, call him a hulking monster.

Personally, I don't like first person narration: it makes describing the actions a play-by-play, and makes the entire thing feel forced.

I suppose my issue can be compounded as: don't be so specific. You're diction is mostly good, and your grammar is fine, but look at how you described the battle. Did you tell me exactly where every stone and soldier was? No, yet I still knew where you were and what was going on. When you're more vague, it makes my mind fill in the gaps and makes the story more fluid. Why work harder when you can work smarter?

**Lord of Kaith**

DarkHound wrote:What bothered me was that the character knew the codex names for everything. Don't call a Boy a boy, it makes him sound less menacing. Don't call a Nob a Nob, call him a hulking monster.

Personally, I don't like first person narration: it makes describing the actions a play-by-play, and makes the entire thing feel forced.

I suppose my issue can be compounded as: don't be so specific. You're diction is mostly good, and your grammar is fine, but look at how you described the battle. Did you tell me exactly where every stone and soldier was? No, yet I still knew where you were and what was going on. When you're more vague, it makes my mind fill in the gaps and makes the story more fluid. Why work harder when you can work smarter?

Ah I think I get you.

When I finally get inspiration to continue from the Inquisitor's point of view, I won't do it in first-person.

Though I'm not quite sure I get you on not being so specific. Could you maybe clarify by choosing one paragraph I wrote, and re-write it in the way that you're talking about?

**DarkHound**

Lord of Kaith wrote:One of the orks spotted me, crouched on the ground, and lifting his blood-covered sword, he dashed toward me. I lifted my lasgun; against all odds it held against the first slash, and the ork's weapon caught in it; I twisted the gun away, then yanking my knife free of its scabbard on my belt, I lunged into the Ork, ripping his throat out in a spray of blood. The ork made an awful braying noise and fell back, clutching at his throat; another boy replaced him, shouldering past his dying fellow Ork in an attempt to assault me and satisfy his bloodlust. The rest of my fellows fell away. Cowards, I thought. The Emperor pays those who follow him for their deeds.

Kasrkin intercepted him, bludgeoning the Ork with a series of swift and brutal blows from his gun butt. I staggered to my feet and tried to avoid vomiting at the sight of the red blood spilling over my hand, my arm, my shirt; the smell of it was maddening. I looked up just in time to see a Nob rip the Kasrkin from shoulder to armpit. In the five seconds before he reached me, I readied a grenade; indescribable pain filled me as the Nob's weapon made contact. With my dying breath I yanked the pin from the grenade.

DarkHound wrote:One ork turned from the pack, his attention captured by the scurrying Guardsmen. He charged the man, sword raised high. The man braced himself, and caught the blood-slick blade with the stock of his rifle. The weapon stuck, and the Guardsmen twisted the rifle, disarming himself and the ork simultaniously. They both went for their knives, but the Guardsmen was faster. He lunged at the beast, and they tumbled to the floor, fighting desperately atop the bodies of the fallen. The Guardsmen's knive found perchase in the ork's throat, and it brayed pathedically as its life blood flowed. The man stood in time to see his comrades break and flee under the green skins' assault.

"Cowards! Fight for the Emperor's peace or die sinners!" He screamed in rage, knowing that if the line broke they all be killed. The men either didn't hear him, or didn't care; they scrambled over each other to escape the blades of the orks. All his raving seemed to accomplish was invite a volley of bullets from the greenskins. He was caught in the shoulder, the force of the hit throwing into a wall. The man's vision was was fogging up from the pain; he tried not to look at what remained of his left shoulder. His groaning attracted another ork, and he silently cursed his luck. It roared and charged him, swinging its axe menacingly, but was blind-sided by a Kasirkin. The storm-trooper slammed his rifle butt into the brute, bludgeoning it to death with swift, brutal blows.

The Kasirkin glanced back, as if to say something, but a massive silhouette moved out from the tide of green. His mouth was just forming the words when the monster grabbed his arm; all he could do was scream as he was ripped in half. The beast was glared down at the bleeding man on the floor, and stomped over towards him to deal the killing blow. Tranquility over-came the Guardsmen: if this was how it would end, so be it. He had done the Emperor's work. The greenskin boss paused, blade held aloft, as the human smiled up at him. It was confused for a moment, before it spotted the live grenade in the Guardsmen's hand.

It is not enough to say what you want, you have to show them. Don't write about exactly what is happening, think of writing like watching a movie. What do you want the reader to aware of first, and how much does he need to see? Only point out specific things that are important. Focus your effort on describing the mood, not the scene. Your reader will fill in the gaps, and it will always be more complete than you could describe. When the reader picks up on the mood, and fills in the scene himself, it doesn't break the flow of your writing and you can keep showing the important things: the characters. Readers tend to only skim through (if not skip) paragraphs where you only talk about the scene. They look for characters, because they drive the action. (That last bit is less relevant for you, but I thought I'd cover it. You did a good job setting the mood in the first paragraph, which is why I didn't touch it.)

So slow down, let more happen and be more general.

**Lord of Kaith**

DarkHound wrote:
Lord of Kaith wrote:One of the orks spotted me, crouched on the ground, and lifting his blood-covered sword, he dashed toward me. I lifted my lasgun; against all odds it held against the first slash, and the ork's weapon caught in it; I twisted the gun away, then yanking my knife free of its scabbard on my belt, I lunged into the Ork, ripping his throat out in a spray of blood. The ork made an awful braying noise and fell back, clutching at his throat; another boy replaced him, shouldering past his dying fellow Ork in an attempt to assault me and satisfy his bloodlust. The rest of my fellows fell away. Cowards, I thought. The Emperor pays those who follow him for their deeds.

Kasrkin intercepted him, bludgeoning the Ork with a series of swift and brutal blows from his gun butt. I staggered to my feet and tried to avoid vomiting at the sight of the red blood spilling over my hand, my arm, my shirt; the smell of it was maddening. I looked up just in time to see a Nob rip the Kasrkin from shoulder to armpit. In the five seconds before he reached me, I readied a grenade; indescribable pain filled me as the Nob's weapon made contact. With my dying breath I yanked the pin from the grenade.
DarkHound wrote:One ork turned from the pack, his attention captured by the scurrying Guardsmen. He charged the man, sword raised high. The man braced himself, and caught the blood-slick blade with the stock of his rifle. The weapon stuck, and the Guardsmen twisted the rifle, disarming himself and the ork simultaniously. They both went for their knives, but the Guardsmen was faster. He lunged at the beast, and they tumbled to the floor, fighting desperately atop the bodies of the fallen. The Guardsmen's knive found perchase in the ork's throat, and it brayed pathedically as its life blood flowed. The man stood in time to see his comrades break and flee under the green skins' assault.

"Cowards! Fight for the Emperor's peace or die sinners!" He screamed in rage, knowing that if the line broke they all be killed. The men either didn't hear him, or didn't care; they scrambled over each other to escape the blades of the orks. All his raving seemed to accomplish was invite a volley of bullets from the greenskins. He was caught in the shoulder, the force of the hit throwing into a wall. The man's vision was was fogging up from the pain; he tried not to look at what remained of his left shoulder. His groaning attracted another ork, and he silently cursed his luck. It roared and charged him, swinging its axe menacingly, but was blind-sided by a Kasirkin. The storm-trooper slammed his rifle butt into the brute, bludgeoning it to death with swift, brutal blows.

The Kasirkin glanced back, as if to say something, but a massive silhouette moved out from the tide of green. His mouth was just forming the words when the monster grabbed his arm; all he could do was scream as he was ripped in half. The beast was glared down at the bleeding man on the floor, and stomped over towards him to deal the killing blow. Tranquility over-came the Guardsmen: if this was how it would end, so be it. He had done the Emperor's work. The greenskin boss paused, blade held aloft, as the human smiled up at him. It was confused for a moment, before it spotted the live grenade in the Guardsmen's hand.

It is not enough to say what you want, you have to show them. Don't write about exactly what is happening, think of writing like watching a movie. What do you want the reader to aware of first, and how much does he need to see? Only point out specific things that are important. Focus your effort on describing the mood, not the scene. Your reader will fill in the gaps, and it will always be more complete than you could describe. When the reader picks up on the mood, and fills in the scene himself, it doesn't break the flow of your writing and you can keep showing the important things: the characters. Readers tend to only skim through (if not skip) paragraphs where you only talk about the scene. They look for characters, because they drive the action. (That last bit is less relevant for you, but I thought I'd cover it. You did a good job setting the mood in the first paragraph, which is why I didn't touch it.)

So slow down, let more happen and be more general.

Ah, okay.

For one thing, I can see the difference made from writing from a different perspective. I can also see what you mean about being more general (at least I think I get that part.)

I'll try and write some more later on this week, trying what you suggested, and see how it turns out.