Warwick Chronicles: Regency England 1827

[anuran's angel]

Hey everyone,

I haven't written anything in such a long time on account of my A-level exams. I was done weeks ago but lost my muse. Well, I managed to scratch at the walls of my writer's block and came up with this. It's something completely new and I've never written anything set during the regency period. I'm just experimenting so please feel free to correct me and explain anything I've misquoted.

~A~

The Warwick Chronicles
Chapter one

London, 1827

“I’m going to kill you!”

Dashwell Pemberton nearly tumbled out the window in his attempts to fasten his pantaloons and pull on his boots at the same time as his voluptuous young bed partner from last night still clung to his lips in lingering pleasure.

“Cecile, open this door at once!” Her father charged at the door like an enraged bull. It rattled on its hinges but the bolts held. “I know there’s someone in there with you. I’m going to have his head on a stick, you little slut!”

“How in the blazes did he know?” said Dash, throwing on his shirt and not bothering with the buttons. He rounded wildly in search of his coat.

The strawberry blonde giggled drunkenly, stroking his neck in adoration, seemingly not in the least bit concerned that their lives were at stake at the moment.

“Darling,” she purred, wrapping her arms around his lean waist and licking her lips, “We were very loud this morning.”

Dash grinned wickedly, pausing for a moment to tip her chin and plant a smacking kiss on her mouth. It was such a shame he had to leave so soon. Abandoning a nineteen year old willing bit o’ muslin in such a wonderful state of dishabille really went against his sane conscience.

A sudden deafening bang swept through the upper storey of the inn. Cecile gasped, whirling around in shock. As the smoke cleared Dash saw Walter Thurston’s red eye peering into the room through a gunshot sized hole in the door. It fell on him and widened in recognition.

“You!” he roared. “*******!”

“That’s my cue.”

Jolted back to his senses, Dash grabbed onto the gutter pipe running down the side of the window and swung out, promptly sliding all the way down and landing on his feet with the agile ease of someone who has done this many times before.

“Is it her father or brother this time?” Leaning idly against the wall nearby, Edward Cole, grinned at Dash. He took a puff from a stolen pipe and blew out the smoke through a wide gap in his upper front teeth.

“Eddy, what the hell are you doing here?” Dash made towards the scruffy street rat and playfully ruffled his hair.

“Larken sent me.”

“Dash!” Cecile’s voice carried down just as he was about to disappear down the back alleyway. She was waving his cravat in the air like an enthusiast at the Derby. Pressing it to her lips, she tossed it down just as Thurston appeared over her shoulder. Dash picked up his trophy and presented an immaculate bow worthy of the highest rank of gentlemen as the innkeeper bellowed colourful threats at him.

The back window of a shop behind him shattered as another shot was fired over his head. He skipped sideways belatedly; silently thankful the man was such a terrible aim.

Edward had ducked and now glanced up in indignation. “He’s a right lairy sod!”

Dash gripped the boy’s shoulder, steering his attention back to him. “Quick, time to leggit.”

The pair of them jogged up the alleyway and slipped round the bend, nearly running into a passing carriage. Leaning against a shop window to catch their breaths, Dash took the time to button up his shirt and tie his cravat. The latter proved to be a futile effort. He could never master the damned thing no matter how many times Moira explained it to him. In the end he gave up and resorted to a haphazard knot.

“Cecile?” Edward braced his hands on his knees. “You must be barmy, mate.”

“It was worth it.” Dash looked sideways and raised an eyebrow, grinning slowly as the younger lad broke out into laughter. “Remember, Eds, he that will eat the fruit must climb the tree. Sometimes you risk falling down and breaking a leg.”

The boy was all rapt attention. “What’s that mean?”

“Never mind.” Dash shook his head, starting off down the street. He could spend the entire day trying to explain something to Eddy and it'd never stick. “What does my brother want anyway?”

Edward fell into step. “We have a new job.”

“Good. I’ve been rusting for the past few months.”

“Can I come with you this time?”

“Depends on the heist, lad. It could get dangerous.” The boy’s face lit up in anticipation as he looked at Dash. Larken would certainly disapprove if he knew who Eddy had taken to looking up to. Dash wasn’t exactly the best role model.

To be continued...

 

[The Judge]

anuran, your formatting's gone to pot. This might well be the software ripping it out, but next time, do make sure there is a line's gap between each new paragraph -- a lot of text can be a little difficult to read otherwise (fortunately you've got a good big font!). As this is relatively short I'll go through it this time and insert the extra lines for you -- I should hate you to lose any critiques because of the formatting.

 

[chrispenycate]

Dashwell Pemberton nearly tumbled out the window in his attempts to fasten his pantaloons and pull on his boots at the same time as his voluptuous young bed partner from last night still clung to his lips in lingering pleasure.

This really needs some punctuation, otherwise you're left floundering as to what the "at the same time" is attached, I would even consider splitting it into two sentences.

He rounded wildly in search of his coat.

I am not convinced by that "rounded wildly" Spun around, looked round?

Leaning idly against the wall nearby, Edward Cole, grinned at Dash.

no comma

Dash picked up his trophy and presented an immaculate bow worthy of the highest rank of gentlemen as the innkeeper bellowed colourful threats at him.

comma after "bow", comma after "gentlemen".

He skipped sideways belatedly; silently thankful the man was such a terrible aim.

No need for the semicolon, just a comma.

 

[anuran's angel]

anuran, your formatting's gone to pot. This might well be the software ripping it out, but next time, do make sure there is a line's gap between each new paragraph -- a lot of text can be a little difficult to read otherwise (fortunately you've got a good big font!). As this is relatively short I'll go through it this time and insert the extra lines for you -- I should hate you to lose any critiques because of the formatting.

thank you so much. gosh! i haven't been back here in such a long time. lots of rules have changed, eh? i'll keep that in mind for next time. sorry! thanks again.

so... the grammar and formatting is all right (i can thank chrispenycate for that ) but i'd really like someone's opinion on the flow of the narrative and in general how the writing is.

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

It's Good. I like the flow of the action. Reminiscent of the new Sherlock Movie to my mind. However I have a few comments.

Hey everyone,

I haven't written anything in such a long time on account of my A-level exams. I was done weeks ago but lost my muse. Well, I managed to scratch at the walls of my writer's block and came up with this. It's something completely new and I've never written anything set during the regency period. I'm just experimenting so please feel free to correct me and explain anything I've misquoted.

~A~

The Warwick Chronicles
Chapter one

London, 1827 (This jarred a little with the Warwick - It the fact the inn is in London relevant or could it be anywhere really)

“I’m going to kill you!” (yet at this stage the father only suspects "If there's man in there with you I'll kill you both" - or some such)

Dashwell Pemberton nearly tumbled out the window in his attempts to fasten his pantaloons and pull on his boots; at the same time as his voluptuous young bed partner from last night still clung to his lips in lingering pleasure.

“Cecile, open this door at once!” Her father charged at the door like an enraged bull. It rattled on its hinges but the bolts held. “I know there’s someone in there with you. I’m going to have his head (head seems a little inappropriate, maybe other parts of the anatomy would be more relavent) on a stick, you little slut!”

“How in the blazes did he know?” said Dash, throwing on his shirt and not bothering with the buttons. He rounded wildly in search of his coat.

The strawberry blonde giggled drunkenly, stroking his neck in adoration, seemingly not in the least bit concerned that their lives were at stake at the moment.

“Darling,” she purred, wrapping her arms around his lean waist and licking her lips, “We were very loud this morning.” (nice)

Dash grinned wickedly, pausing for a moment to tip her chin and plant a smacking kiss on her mouth. It was such a shame he had to leave so soon. Abandoning a nineteen year old willing bit o’ muslin in such a wonderful state of dishabille really went against his sane conscience.

A sudden deafening bang swept through the upper storey of the inn. Cecile gasped, whirling around in shock. As the smoke cleared Dash saw Walter Thurston’s red eye ( a bullet hole is virtually impossible to see through a that distance unless it a blunderbuss in which case they would both be dead and it would be his head he could see) peering into the room through a gunshot sized hole in the door. It fell on him and widened in recognition.

“You!” he roared. “You *******!” he roared.

“That’s my cue.”

Jolted back to his senses, Dash grabbed onto the gutter pipe running down the side of the window and swung out, sliding all the way down and landing on his feet with the agile ease of someone who has done this many times before. (the problem is that it sounds great but I doubt it's possible. There are brackets and fastenings that would make it difficult to hang on. Why not have a rope that he had climbed up or prepared the night before After all he's experienced at this he would make sure escape could be quickly achieved - Also I think a bit of looking up to see a bit of voluptuous bosom and the girl blowing a kiss wouldn't go amiss)

“Is it her father or brother this time?” Leaning idly against the wall nearby, Edward Cole, grinned at Dash. He took a puff from a stolen pipe and blew out the smoke through a wide gap in his upper front teeth.

“Eddy, what the hell are you doing here?” Dash made towards the scruffy street rat indicating there chat should continue at a pace and playfully ruffled his hair.

“Larken sent me.”

“Dash!” Cecile’s voice carried down just as he was about to disappear down the back alleyway. She was waving his cravat in the air like an enthusiast at the Derby. Pressing it to her lips, she tossed it down just as Thurston appeared over her shoulder. Dash picked up his trophy (to be a trophy it would have to be something of hers - which would be better than a cravat IMO) and presented an immaculate bow worthy of the highest rank of gentlemen as the innkeeper bellowed colourful threats at him.

The back window of a shop behind him shattered as another shot was fired over his head. He skipped sideways belatedly; silently thankful the man was such a terrible aim. probably still drunk

Edward had ducked and now glanced up in indignation. “He’s a right lairy sod!”

Dash gripped the boy’s shoulder, steering his attention back to him. “Quick, time to leggit.” (they are already legging it, he's reach the corner above)

The pair of them jogged pelted (jogged sounds too modern and also a bit slow given there's a bloke with a gun chasing them) up the alleyway and slipped round the bend, nearly running into a passing carriage. Leaning against a shop window to catch their breaths, Dash took the time to button up his shirt and tie his cravat (already done the cravat - which given the shirt wasn't fastened would have been a bit tricky). The latter proved to be a futile effort. He could never master the damned thing no matter how many times Moira explained it to him. In the end he gave up and resorted to a haphazard knot. (see above)

“Cecile?” Edward braced his hands on his knees. “You must be barmy, mate.”

“It was worth it.” Dash looked sideways and raised an eyebrow, grinning slowly as the younger lad broke out into laughter. “Remember, Eds,(Eddy before - make up your mind ) he that will eat the fruit must climb the tree. Sometimes you risk falling down and breaking a leg.”

The boy was all rapt attention. “What’s that mean?”

“Never mind.” Dash shook his head, starting off down the street. He could spend the entire day trying to explain something to Eddy and it'd never stick. “What does my brother want anyway?”

Edward fell into step. “We have a new job.”

“Good. I’ve been rusting for the past few months.”

“Can I come with you this time?” (we have ^ implies he's already in)

“Depends on the heist, lad. It could get dangerous.” (Out of character -the lads just gone through a hail of bullets in his cause so a bit of danger isn't really going to put off to either ofthem) The boy’s face lit up in anticipation as he looked at Dash. Larken would certainly disapprove if he knew who Eddy had taken to looking up to. Dash wasn’t exactly the best role model.

To be continued...

I liked it and it shows great promise. If you can keep up the pace for .the whole book it will be a very good read IMO.

 

[svalbard]

I could picture this clearly. It had a nice pace to it, maybe too pacey, but you hooked me right from the start. Dash is a likeable character from the off. The interesting part will be maintaining that likeability and developing him as your story unfolds. Good luck with it.

 

[Damiynn]

Ok here we go, chris has hit the grammar so I will leave that out, but I did notice a few things right away so... Hope this helps

The Warwick Chronicles
Chapter one

London, 1827

“I’m going to kill you!”

Dashwell Pemberton nearly tumbled out the window in his attempts (I think it would be better attempt) to fasten his pantaloons and pull on his boots at the same time as his voluptuous young bed partner from last night still clung to his lips in lingering pleasure.

“Cecile, open this door at once!” Her father charged (Read it without the at, it shows rather than tells)at the door like an enraged bull. It rattled on its hinges but the bolts held. “I know there’s someone in there with you. I’m going to have his head on a stick, you little slut!”

“How in the blazes did he know?” said (this man is anxious or scared or something, I think said is to plain for the situation) Dash, throwing on his shirt and not bothering with the buttons. He rounded wildly in search of his coat.

The strawberry blonde giggled drunkenly, stroking his neck in adoration, seemingly not in the least bit concerned that their lives were at stake at the moment.

“Darling,” she purred, wrapping her arms around his lean waist and licking her lips, “We were very loud this morning.”

Dash grinned wickedly, pausing for a moment to tip her chin and plant a (smacking) kiss on her mouth. It was such a shame he had to leave so soon. Abandoning a nineteen year old willing bit o’ muslin in such a wonderful state of dishabille really went against his sane conscience.

A sudden deafening bang swept through the upper storey of the inn. Cecile gasped, whirling around in shock. As the smoke cleared Dash saw Walter Thurston’s red eye peering into the room through a gunshot sized hole in the door. It fell on him and widened in recognition. (try, It fell on him, widening it recognition, this is what I meant by show

“You!” he roared. “*******!”

“That’s my cue.”

Jolted back to his senses, Dash grabbed onto the gutter pipe running down the side of the window and swung out, promptly sliding all the way down and(replace with just a comma) landing on his feet with the agile ease of someone who has done this many times before.

“Is it her father or brother this time?” Leaning idly against the wall nearby, Edward Cole, grinned at Dash. He took a puff from a stolen pipe and blew(blowing) out the smoke through a wide gap in his upper front teeth.

“Eddy, what the hell are you doing here?” Dash made towards the scruffy street rat and playfully ruffled his hair.

“Larken sent me.”

“Dash!” Cecile’s voice carried down just as he was about to disappear down the back alleyway. She was waving his cravat in the air like an enthusiast at the Derby. Pressing it to her lips, she tossed it down just as Thurston appeared over her shoulder. Dash picked up his trophy and presented an immaculate bow worthy of the highest rank of gentlemen as the innkeeper bellowed colourful threats at him.

The back window of a shop behind him shattered as another shot was fired over his head. He skipped sideways belatedly; silently thankful the man was such a terrible aim.

Edward had ducked and now glanced up in indignation. “He’s a right lairy sod!”

Dash gripped the boy’s shoulder, steering his attention back to him. “Quick, time to leggit.”

The pair of them(remove this, we know its them and a pair) jogged up the alleyway and slipped round the bend, nearly running into a passing carriage. Leaning against a shop window to catch(catching) their breaths, Dash took the time to button up his shirt and tie his cravat. The latter proved to be a futile effort.(try, the latter proved futile, and leave out the rest) He could never master the damned thing no matter how many times Moira explained it to him(could leave this out). In the end he gave up and resorted to a haphazard knot.

“Cecile?” Edward braced his hands on his knees. “You must be barmy, mate.”

“It was worth it.” Dash looked sideways and raised an eyebrow, grinning slowly as the younger lad broke out into laughter. “Remember, Eds, he that will eat the fruit must climb the tree. Sometimes you risk falling down and breaking a leg.”

The boy was all rapt attention. “What’s that mean?”

“Never mind.” Dash shook his head, starting off down the street. He could spend the entire day trying to explain something to Eddy and it'd never stick. “What does my brother want anyway?”

Edward fell into step. “We have a new job.”

“Good. I’ve been rusting for the past few months.”

“Can I come with you this time?”

“Depends on the heist, lad. It could get dangerous.” The boy’s face lit up in anticipation as he looked at Dash. Larken would certainly disapprove if he knew who Eddy had taken to looking up to. Dash wasn’t exactly the best role model.