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Comic Script: Chapter 1 | Critque wanted
All right, I've got me the first part of a comic script. It is a fantasy with fairy tale-ish influences. Advice would be greatly appreciated.
Two young men stand facing one another, swords in hand. The
first is JULEN: a young, white, rather effeminate looking
teenage boy whose cringing posture suggests he isn't the
very pleased with the current situation. The second is
DELROY: tall, black, and about the same age, and in a much
more confident in his deportment.
Delroy lunges forward. Julen barely parries Delroy's strike,
staggering backwards. Julen pulls further away to avoid the
second slash, but trips and falls backwards.
He lays on the ground, eyes closed and arms pulled up to
protect his face. The tip of Delroy's sword smacks him
gently in the center of the forehead, and Julen opens his
I love you Julen, but I have to say
that your performance was...not
Julen sits up, massaging his forehead. He is blushing in
embarrassment, and smiling sheepishly.
That was rather terrible, wasn't
I dare not use such demeaning
language towards my honorable
But yes. It was.
(As Delroy helps him to his
Oh, I'm sorry. I just-
I know, I know. It's fine.
Julen's expression grows more serious.
(Examining his sword,
I'll never manage to wield a weapon
with much skill...Any skill.
That's probably true. I doubt any
amount of training will chance
Delroy puts his hands on Julen's shoulders.
You're gentle and sweet and
harmless. You've always been this
way, and it's why I love you so
Soldiery is not in your nature,
Julen. And you have no reason to be
ashamed of that.
Julen bows his head.
I already know that...but...
Julen trails off, looking over Delroy's shoulder at a
What is it?
Delroy turns and follows Julen's gaze.
I'd swear that bird has been
Well, they are very clever animals.
Perhaps he is hoping for a treat.
Julen frowns at the crow, fiddling with his fingers. The
crow does appear to be watching them intently.
It doesn't seem...strange to you?
Crows and ravens are the preferred
servants of demons, you know. They
are sent from the Black Valley to
spy and act as messengers.
Is that true? Do you...Do you think
it could be one?
Delroy raps his knuckles on the center of Julen's forehead,
indicating where the sword had swatted him earlier.
What has brought this on? Did I hit
you too hard before? You're being
(Pushing the hand away)
It struck me as unusual, that is
King Bakkar walks into the courtyard. He's a tall,
intimidating man, with a stern expression.
Julen and Delroy immediately step away from one another,
bowing to their king.
If you're not going to use this
time for actual training, then come
Julen glances guiltily back at Delroy, and follows his
father towards the entrance to the castle.
The crow, still perched nearby, watching the pair until they
go inside. Once they are gone, it flies aware.
INSIDE THE CASTLE
They walk together, Bakkar leading and Julen following
after, having a bit of a hard time keeping up.
You're taking those lessons to
learn proper swordsmanship, not to
flirt with your instructor.
I was not-that is-
Delroy should not be sacrificing
his duties as a guard for nothing.
You will have a proper, serious
But-but Delroy is a good teacher,
and it helps that we know
eachother so well. I really was
training until just before you
arrived. And I do not think
changing to new instructor could be
They reach the door to their destination: a meeting room.
...No. I suppose it wouldn't.
Julen cringes at the statement, touching the vague red mark
on his forehead. Guards open the door to the chamber, where
several men and women are seated around a table. They stand,
bows are exchanged, and Bakkar and Julen take their seats.
The situation in Hartlayne has
escalated, your Majesty. A small
skirmish broke out.
Was our Lady Alana victorious?
It seems that neither side was.
The council woman hands Bakkar several pages of letters,
which he scrutinises. Julen continues to watch and listen
This must be handled with care.
Hartlayne is a valuable town, but
if Lady Alana is too hasty to
obtain it she could draw the wrath
of the entire Lanhaim Kingdom down
One of our least influential ladies
is clashing with one of their least
powerful lords over the border of a
modest sized piece of land. It is
in their interests to avoid a war
The same could be said of us.
Yes, but we have greater spirit.
Apply the correct amount of
pressure to the correct places, and
Hartlayne will be ours without any
A dangerous game, but such a
strategic spot on the White River
might be worth a bit of risk.
If the worst happens, we can
distance ourselves from Lady Alana
and let the chips fall where they
Julen looks at his father, startled.
Tell us your thoughts.
Julen squirms in his seat, reluctant.
...I suppose...It just seems
Hartlayne does belong to Lanhaim,
does it not?
The only response is blank stares.
Of course, I may be recalling my
geography and history incorrectly.
It is an area in dispute. But...if
they do have it now, it seems, to
me, that it might be better to
leave it be. Leading men to perhaps
die in battle over a small-
Bakkar outshis hand to his forehead, radiating displeasure.
All over the council members look away from the scene,
uncomfortable. Julen stares intently down at the floor.
This meeting is over for today.
The council members get up, pay their respects, and exist
the room, leaving Julen and his father alone.
Do you know what happened to your
step-mother last night?
She said that she'd been ill?
What?! I-I had no idea that she
Kyra chose to keep it secret from
all but me and the physicians. Gods
know she did not want to endure
losing a child before all the eyes
of the kingdom. Again.
Julen's eyes are suffused with tears, while Bakkar is tense
with barely controlled emotion. Uncertain, Julen reaches out
a hand to put on his father's shoulder, but Bakkar bats it
away and gets to his feet. He paces back and forth as he
I am not telling you this because I
need comfort. Not that type of
You know what this means, don't
He pauses and looks at Julen, half expecting a response, but
Julen does not know what to say.
It means that it is almost certain
that you will be and my only heir.
As much as I wish it not to be so,
it is unlikely to the extreme that
Kyra will bare a healthy child.
And you, the one who will be
entrusted with the entire kingdom
after my death, are utterly unfit
for the task.
Julen looks away, tears beginning to gather at the corner of
Look at me when I talk to you.
Julen does so, reluctantly.
I am entirely serious when I say I
have seen children half your age
with twice as much courage and
decisiveness. The life of a king is
a life of a warrior. A leader. You
are more suited to the occupation
Gods know how you got this way.
Perhaps it is my own fault. I left
you to your mother, who taught you
this excessive softness.
Julen cries, covering his face with his hands.
I am at my wit's end with you! No
Bakkar grabs Julen by his arms and drags the startled boy to
You're going to be a king! Act like
Bakkar gives Julen several furious shakes, and shoves him
away and onto the floor.
Julen sits there for a moment, shocked and miserable. Then,
he gets to his feet and flees the room.
Bakkar sighs and sinks into his chair.
Still tense from his previous altercation, Bakkar returns to
his chambers. Queen Kyra is lying across the bed, an arm
over her eyes. Bakkar goes to her, sitting on the edge of
How are you feeling?
Kyra removes her arm to look at him. She appears drained,
Do you need anything?
No, nothing. I just need to rest
here a little while longer.
I will be in my study, if you need
Bakkar hesitates, then walks to the door of his private
study. He reaches for the doorknob, but stop short. Strange
rustling noises are coming from within. He frowns.
Is the study being cleaned? I told
the servants not to without asking.
Kyra sits up.
No. No one has been in there.
Bakkar readies himself, takes a deep breath, and throws open
A small, dark shape flies out of the open window, just as
Bakkar enters. There is no one in the room.
Sitting on the center of Bakkar's desk is a letter. The
wax seal depicts a pair of ram horns and protruding from a
crown. Next to it is a single black feather.