Schrijvers / Journalisten

Discussie in 'Actualiteiten, Sport, Entertainment en Lifestyle' gestart door Willem, 24 dec 2008.

  1. Robby Bobson

    Robby Bobson Die rapper.

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    www.leipeshit.nl schrijf ik recensies van hiphop albums voor, en in de toekomst komen daar ook nieuwsberichten bij, allen hiphop gerelateerd.
    voor gratis popmagazine Live/XS schrijf ik concert recensies.
    En verder schrijf ik m'n ass off met raps, gedichten (minder) en ik wil nog steeds een verhaal gaan schrijven, heb daar redelijk aanleg voor als ik m'n leraar Nederlands moet geloven van een paar jaar terug. :+
     
  2. Killamonkey

    Killamonkey Niet zo aanstellen! XBW.nl VIP

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    Ik heb een jaar lang voor een multimediawebsite (nam de xbox games voor mijn rekening) geschreven. Verder schrijf ik zo nu en dan voor een nieuwssite a la Geenstijl.

    Schrijf veel korte verhalen en recensies over films, series, boeken en games. Volgend jaar staat hoogstwaarschijnlijk journalistiek in de planning, al twijfel ik over het niveau van de studie. Ervaring anyone?

    Zou graag mijn stukjes kwijt willen dus mocht iemand nog een (onbetaalde) werkkracht nodig hebben :D Ik Schrijf voor de fun en ervaring, dus geld doet er niet toe.
     
  3. Willem

    Willem Obi-Willem XBW.nl Bestuur

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    Ja mááár, ik wil naar Cairo in Egypte. :mad:

    Als je over Xbox 360 games schrijft/wilt schrijven, en je schrijft goed... ik zal Mirik vragen of hij nog mensen nodig heeft. Denk het wel hoor. Iemand die dagelijks even nieuws wilt checken of wilt inspringen als Mirik/ik het niet doe is mee dan welkom. En game reviews zijn ook altijd welkom. ;)

    Ja, naar die site gaan we dus duidelijk NIET! :+
     
  4. Robby Bobson

    Robby Bobson Die rapper.

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    Jongen, wat loop je nou te janken? Ik luister ook geen metal, ga ik toch ook niet hatelijk over doen? Op msn loop je nog zo schijnheilig te vragen wat ik allemaal van plan ben met m'n rappen enzo, ga je nu zo doen :+
     
    Laatst bewerkt: 26 dec 2008
  5. Willem

    Willem Obi-Willem XBW.nl Bestuur

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    * Spreekt een hartig woordje met GG via MSN :cool: Hater. :+
     
  6. MM90

    MM90 -xxx-

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    Ik raad je dit ten zeerste af. Egypte is echt een verschrikkelijk land. Afgelopen zomer ben ik er geweest en nooit en te nimmer ga ik nog naar een Afrikaans land. Het enige "interessante" is de tour langs de pyramides. Maar dan heb je 't ook meteen gehad. De mensen daar zijn echt de meest irritante kloothommels die je in je leven zult tegenkomen. Op nagenoeg elke hoek van de straat vraagt een sloeber of je een taxi nodig hebt. Ter illustratie: kom je 20 gasten tegen in een straat ter lengte van 100 meter, vragen ze allen of je bij ze in wilt stappen.

    Nee, Cairo is echt een helse plek om te vertoeven. Wat was ik blij om na 10 dagen weer voet op Nederlandse bodem te zetten. Heerlijk.
     
  7. Killamonkey

    Killamonkey Niet zo aanstellen! XBW.nl VIP

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    @ !Willem_Fable!

    Lijkt me leuk! Ik kan je wel een paar reviews sturen om een impressie van mijn schrijven te geven :p

    PM me anders even als je interesse hebt.
     
  8. Robby Bobson

    Robby Bobson Die rapper.

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    Tunesië is het net zo, al vragen ze daar of je geld voor ze hebt.. Mooiste moment was nog dat mijn (toenmalige) schoonmoeder een klein bloemetje kreeg van iemand met een mand vol bloemen (klein jochie), dus wij dachten, das pittig, lopen verder, kijk ik achterom, loopt dat joch achter me! 8) Met z'n hand opgestoken, dus ik heb die bloem gepakt, en terug gegeven, en weer verder gelopen.. Daar verbaasde ik me echt over.. Ook wel mooi, dat ze mijn schoonmoeder daar zowat zover kregen om een friggisly groot tapijt te kopen 8) Enige euvel was dat het niet in de koffer zou passen :lol:
     
  9. Henrive

    Henrive zuur

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    Klopt, ik was er een week en was er echt klaar mee. Ik snap ook niet hoe ze het uithoudt (al is ze nu 2 weken hier, met verlof zeg maar 8)).
     
  10. Fiasco

    Fiasco Big Stepper XBW.nl VIP

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    Hehe Cairo is dramatisch voor mensen die denken daar heen te gaan voor hun rust of om ergens van te genieten. Ben er ondertussen een paar keer geweest maar ondertussen ben ik het wel gewend. Als je niet uitkijkt wordt je zo aangereden, geen stoplichten mensen schelden iedereen kapot. Shit man, als je daar gaat auto rijden schijt je in je broek. Elke seconde een gast die je een taxi aanbied en iedereen die geld aan je wil verdienen. Als je in je kamer witte kleding aan hebt en je 5 minuten op straat loopt zijn ze al weer zwart, hehe. Toen ik daar liep zag ik gewoon een dooie paard liggen op straat, niemand boeit het ze rijden gewoon door. Kom je bij de airport, iedereen wilt geld van je. Serieus, een en al tering zooi. :+

    Al zijn er plaatsen bij de Rode Zee waar alles normaal is ( Hurghada, Sharm el-Sheikh enz ). Nouja, normaal kan ik ook niet echt zeggen.

    ( Sorry voor het offtopic Willem, wou gewoon even reageren. Buiten XBW Story, Xboxworldsche Courant en wat reviews doe ik niks, heb je toch wat! :+ )
     
  11. Mtthz

    Mtthz XBW.nl VIP XBW.nl VIP

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    Zoals NAC Breda Fan al zegt, ook ik doe journalistiek in Zwolle. Ben een derdejaars tweedejaars (doe het tweede jaar opnieuw namelijk). Ik zit inmiddels met hele andere ambities op school dan toen ik voor de eerste keer het gebouw binnenliep. Ik wou graag eindigen als sportjournalist, maar nu heeft dat eigenlijk geen prioriteit meer. In het eerste jaar heb ik een passie voor schrijven ontdekt. Kleine stukjes, columns, korte verhalen en vooral reviews. Niet meer het verslagje en het nieuwsberichtje over sport in ieder geval. Daarom ga ik in het derde jaar ook straks de minor Verhalen kiezen. Een minor waar je creativiteit op de proef wordt gesteld. Ik heb er alvast zin in.

    Ik heb werkzaamheden voor www.metalfan.nl als reviewer. Hiermee kan ik twee passies van mij samenvoegen: muziek en schrijven (muziek schrijven lukt mij momenteel niet namelijk). Lekker een paar cdtjes per maand doen, gratis naar concerten en zo af en toe een interview. Op http://www.metalfan.nl/crew.php staat trouwens een korte pagina van mij, met een lijstje van de reviews die ik sinds maart heb gedaan voor de site (sinds die tijd werk ik er namelijk).

    Daarnaast hou ik ook een weblog bij (link staat in mijn sig): Matthijs M. Op deze weblog komt zo ongeveer eens per week een column van mijn hand, aangevuld met af en toe een review of een (subjectief) verslag van Ajax. Over het algemeen schrijf ik daar nog wel relatief vaak over voetbal. Verder nog lijstjes, terugblikken, memoriams, overige verslagen en andere meuk.

    Verder schrijf ik vaak en veel songteksten. Grootste deel gaat overigens verloren, maar zie het als een klein beetje creativiteit dat naar boven gaat. Daarnaast schrijf ik zo af en toe nog korte verhalen, scenario's of doe ik aan wat poëtisch geneuzel (van flauwe rijmpjes tot poëzie in de vrije versvorm).

    Momenteel zit ik overigens in een vrij grote writersblock (al een paar maanden). Er komt qua creativiteit weinig zinnigs uit. Daarom hou ik me momenteel een beetje aan het noodzakelijke (metalfan.nl en een update hier en daar voor mijn blog).
     
  12. Sliv

    Sliv The One and Only

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    Zijn er mensen die hier enige ervaring hebben met het schrijven in Engels? Ik vind Engels namelijk een zo veel mooiere taal dan Nederlands voor verhalende teksten, vandaar dat ik ook probeer om in het Engels te schrijven als ik zoiets onderneem.
     
  13. Deoxis

    Deoxis Coloris

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    Ik schrijf en vertaal ontzettend vaak in Engels.
    Volgens mij durf ik zelfs ver genoeg te gaan om te zeggen dat ik er beter in schrijf dan Nederlands.
    Vooral verhalende texten en gedichten althans.

    In het Engels schrijven lijkt in de eerste instantie erg simpel, omdat er simpelweg vele synoniemen zijn voor bepaalde woorden.
    De grootste truc in het schrijven in het Engels vind ik dan ook om juist dat ene passende woord binnen een zin of alinea te vinden die perfect de sfeer weet weer te geven.

    Ik weet natuurlijk niet precies wat voor tips je zoekt en zo dus vraag maar raak!
     
    Laatst bewerkt: 4 jan 2010
  14. Sliv

    Sliv The One and Only

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    Ik weet niet of dit echt de plek is om grote lappen tekst te posten, maar waar ik vooral mee te maken krijg is dat mensen de wereld die ik probeer te schetsen, niet helemaal meekrijgen. Ik ben niet iemand die uitgebreid de omgeving schetst, maar mensen moeten wel een idee krijgen in wat voor wereld de hoofdpersonen rondlopen. Deze 'identiteitscrisis' is eigenlijk dat waar ik me het meeste zorgen om maak bij mijn huidige Engelse verhaal. Ik kan wel een stukje posten als mensen geïnteresseerd zijn.
     
  15. Deoxis

    Deoxis Coloris

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    Ik ben wel geïnteresseerd om het te lezen, als je het simpelweg in een spoiler zet zal het ook niet zo snel mensen storen.
    Helaas zal het lezen en verder helpen tot morgen moeten wachten alhoewel.
    Het is tamelijk laat en als ik het nu zou lezen zou het niet veel goeds doen.
     
  16. Killamonkey

    Killamonkey Niet zo aanstellen! XBW.nl VIP

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    Kan nog lang niet slapen dus kom maar op! Ben heel benieuwd nu :9 Schrijf redelijk veel en lees minstens een boek per week sinds ik kan lezen :D Misschien heb ik nog wat zinnigs te melden ook.
     
  17. Sliv

    Sliv The One and Only

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    Hierbij dan het deel van mijn verhaal dat ik nu al heb. Dit is het resultaat van drie slapeloze nachten vanwege de verstoring van mijn bioritme. Het kan zijn dat ik in de meest basale 'donts' van het verhaalschrijven ben getrapt maar ik doe niets van journalistiek als opleiding of iets dergelijks op dit moment, en het is dan ook meer iets van een hobby. Ik hoop dat jullie het wat vinden.

    The Arcanos Legacy

    I.

    Leroy ran away as fast as he could. It did not matter where, as he had no destination in mind, as long as he got away from the accursed place he drove himself from. His hands started to tremble, and his heart pounded in his chest, so he was forced to take some rest. He lay down under the cover of some willow trees, their drapes concealing him from sight. His nose was bleeding uncontrollably and hurting beyond what he had ever felt, but that was the least of his concerns. Until today, his life had been a quiet one, albeit the occasional tension of youth. It had all happened so fast, when he came to think of it. He had called Tutyak his home for more than seventeen years. A time which he had spent in happiness, until it was all ripped apart by the events of today.

    His father, Baldur Arcanos, had seemed more nervous lately, as if he knew something was going to happen. He would never involve Leroy in his affairs, but things seemed to escalate, which was reflected by his father’s behavior. Father was a counselor in the regional government of Alteris Valley. Many called him a rebel against the law, while equal as many held him in regard as the one to defend the interest of the common man. The Arcanos family had been representing these interests for as long as Leroy could think of, and he was supposed to be the next in line.

    However, he had no interest in politics. At a young age, he was taught how to read and write, but instead of the law books which his father recommended, Leroy rather read tales of adventure, of which he could find plenty in their old, dusty attic. He could dream about the worlds in those books for hours. At the age of sixteen however, seeing as he had no interest for the law or the act of speaking, his father decided Leroy was to choose his profession. Therefore he joined the local hunter to learn the tricks of the trade, as he always marveled at the creatures of the woods, and was very eager to outsmart them.

    As Leroy came home from one of his hunting parties, he saw that their old, oaken front door was battered to splinters. He hurried inside to see what happened, only to find his parents, or rather, what remained of them. He had never seen such horror in his life and although he was used to gore from the hunting, he vomited in the sink.
    All of a sudden he heard footsteps. Leroy quickly took hold of the sword that lay beside his father’s corpse, but before he could react, he was slammed in the face and hurled against the marble wall behind him. An agonizing pain came over him, and blood started gushing out of his nose. From the corner of his eye, he saw the attacker charging him. With all his strength, he lifted his sword and parried the incoming blade. Taken aback by this fast move, the attacker flinched for a moment, and Leroy took this time to kick his opponent fiercely on the knees, and the man crashed down on the wooden floor. He swung his blade at the intruder, and a scream of pain filled the house.
    Leroy recovered and slowly stood up. There, he saw a big, burly man lying on the floor with a huge gash in his back from where the blade had struck. Rage came over him: He wanted to rend this man’s body like the intruder had done to his parents, but he quickly dismissed the thought, shuddering at the fact that he had thought of it. He gripped the hilt of his father’s sword tighter, and decapitated the body with a single relentless strike.
    Panic now came over him. What would happen if more of them would come? He hasted himself to his father’s working room, and checked a bookshelf until he found the family’s life savings. They would not be needing it anymore. He ran back to the room of battle, took the sword with him and fled.

    II.

    Tears started to run down his face accompanied by a faint sob, but he quickly wiped them away and recovered himself: He might give away his position, and there was plenty of time to mourn the death of his parents later. Also, blood was still running from his nose, and he had to find a way to stop it. He cursed himself for not taking a piece of cloth from home to stem the bleeding, but he didn’t dare go back to the house again. The lilies in the pool next to the willow trees seemed perfect for his needs, so he took one out of the water, ripped it in half and pushed it on his nose. The pain was almost unbearable, but the bleeding stopped.

    After waiting for the bleeding to subside, Leroy decided he was to find a steam somewhere in the hills to clean himself, as solidified blood ran across his face and hands, and his clothes were soaking with it. He dared not use the pool water, as still water is often infectious, as he had learned from the hunter, but streams were always a very clean source of water in the mountains. Luckily, he knew the surroundings well, so he hiked further up the hills, never leaving the treeline, until he found the stream he was looking for. He undressed and rinsed his clothes and himself. It wasn’t by far clean, but it would have to do for now.

    After he was dressed again he started thinking of what he should do. It would be best to try reach a relative, as they might be able to hide him. Going back to Tutyak was too dangerous, but he had an uncle who lived in a town called Caravallon two days east. He would surely find shelter there. It was, however, getting dark, and his stomach was playing up. Therefore, he had to find a place with dry wood where he could safely make a fire. He started to travel in the direction of Caravallon until he felt comfortable with the distance to his hometown, found a ring of oaks whose branches could conceal the glow of a fire, and decided to camp for the night.

    He took the catch of the day, a hare, from his hunter’s pack, cut the meat with his knife and roasted it on the fire. It was a welcome treat after the incidents of the day. Sated, he doused the fire and lay down to the oak trees, and quickly fell asleep.

    He was rudely wakened by the clatter of hooves on the road on the other side of the treeline. Would they be looking for him? He was better to reach Caravallon soon, so he ate the last of the hare meat, took his belongings and started hiking towards his destination.

    III.

    It was still very early when Leroy arrived in Caravallon. The sky shimmered, making it easy for him to travel unnoticed. While his uncle lived a little outside Caravallon, he was dying with hunger and thirst, and decided to enter the town to get some supplies.

    He walked past a pair of guards, who were not paying attention to anything but when their night shift would be over. At least they’re not actively looking for me, Leroy thought by himself. He walked down the almost empty street. The only sounds came from the clatter of armor of the moving guards, and a homeless man dressed in rags who strolled past Leroy and gave him a begging look, before moving on while sipping the grog he held in his hand. Light was burning in the bakery already: They were working hard in there.

    Leroy felt comfortable once again. He had been in this town for multiple times, when he would visit his uncle. He recounted the dark wooden houses with their reed ceilings, the bumpy stone road leading through the city and the large equestrian statue in front of the town hall. He always marveled at this statue, so he decided to pay it a visit.

    The statue was gleaming in the faint morning sun, and dew transformed the sun’s rays in a thousand different colours. Leroy was awed by it for a few seconds, until his eye fell upon something different. It was a large sign which contained all sorts of notices and posters. As his eyes fell across the board, he suddenly saw a bunch of wanted posters hanging near the right hand corner of the board, one of which contained a photograph of him! Apparently, the government would pay a hefty sum of gold for the one who would bring him to justice. Startled by this, Leroy quickly took sight of his surroundings. None of the guards seemed suspicious yet: It was lucky that he had entered the town at such an early hour. He had to find his uncle fast and ask for his assistance, so he sneaked out of the eastern town gate and set course to his uncle’s house.

    As he climbed the last hill to his uncle’s mansion, he became more and more excited. His journey was almost complete, and food and a place to rest probably awaited him at his uncle’s. When he reached the top of the hill, he caught sight of the house, which, to his bewilderment, was burned to the ground. Shocked, he hurried towards the smothering wreck of the once beautiful mansion. He searched the ashes but found no trace of his uncle or his family, perhaps they had fled in time!

    What would he do now? He had no more relatives outside the ones in Tutyak who he could reach by foot. All of his difficulties had been for naught. He wanted to lie down right at the spot, and sleep for a long, long time, but before he even had time to consider an alternative, somebody grabbed him and quickly covered Leroy’s mouth with his palm, taking all the breath out of him.
    “I am your friend”, the unknown man whispered, for the voice was unmistakably male. He pulled Leroy back in a crevice of the cliffs surrounding the mansion. Almost directly after this sudden move, Leroy heard the clatter of hooves and arms in the distance. It seemed as if an army regiment was moving up to the wreck of the mansion at an alarming rate, and they soon reached the point where he had been standing only a minute ago. The man who was holding him gripped Leroy’s mouth so tight that he almost choked him, but he kept still and quiet. After a few minutes, the regiment continued their journey farther east, and the grip on Leroy’s mouth loosened. Leroy quickly freed himself from the grasp of the man and drew his hunter knife.

    “Who are you?" he shouted.

    “There is no need for you to draw that weapon, we just saved your life. One of the guards recognized your face while you were in Caravallon, and the local government reacted in force. You were lucky I was able to get to you in time!”

    “Who are you?”

    “I am Leon Vaughan, of the Firenze”

    The Firenze. Everyone in Alteris Valley knew who they were: They were an armed force of rebels who opposed the government and proclaimed themselves as the army for the people. Two generations ago, the Firenze had fought a battle against the government, which they had lost. Or had they? This man seemed to prove the exact opposite!

    “I will take you to our base of operations. There, you can get some food and a bed to sleep in. We cannot linger now, the soldiers might come back any minute!”
    “Why did you save me?”

    “Are you kidding me? Do you think we would let the government have such a fine trophy as the son of Baldur Arcanos? I thought not, saving Aldur’s boy would be the least we could do to return all the aid he has given us the past years.”

    Was his father in league with the Firenze? Things suddenly began to take shape for Leroy. It would explain why the government was after him and his father. They must’ve thought that he was also a member of the Firenze.

    Leroy didn’t have much time to think, as Leon gestured to follow him. They left their cover spot and quickly dashed for some bushes on the other side of the road. They took a small worn out trail up the hill until they had overcome it and the vegetation turned from low bushes to large trees. From this point, Leon seemed less tense, although he did not slow the pace. Leroy had trouble to keep up in his tired state. After what seemed like hours, they arrived at a giant lake, in which a huge waterfall crashed down with a mighty sound. They climbed the rocks up to the waterfall, and Leon quickly checked the surroundings before shouting into the waterfall:

    “It is I, Leon Vaughan, and I have the boy with me”.

    The sound was quickly lost in the roaring sound of the falls. At first, it seemed like nothing was going to happen. But then, something headed their way from within the waterfall, something which looked like a canoe bungling in the air. It was some sort of lift. Leroy and Leon both took place in the canoe, and were transported inside the waterfall.

    What Leroy saw there was marvelous: The inside of the waterfall was in fact an enormous cave, in which people were walking up and forth with scrolls of parchment, weapons and tools which he had never seen before. He wanted to stay and look at everything which was going on, but Leon quickly guided him to a smaller part of the cave, where some blankets were made into a provisional bed. Leon hurried out of sight and soon returned with a piece of bread. “Eat this”, he said to Leroy, “and I think it is better that you have some sleep first.” When Leroy looked up after taking a bite of the bread, which tasted like a royal feast to him in his hunger, Leon Vaughan was gone. He wanted to explore the caves some more, but he was exceptionally tired and the blankets looked very inviting, so he sank down on the bed and quickly fell asleep.


    IV.


    He slept for many hours, as he couldn’t be waked by light coming into the part of the cave he was in. Ultimately he awoke, well rested, and decided to take a walk through the massive cave he was in. He entered the large central part of the complex which he was so awed of when he entered it for the first time. He now got a closer look at what was all happening in here. The roaring of the waterfall could be heard everywhere in the cave, which was kind of a nuisance but, Leroy realized, that which made this hideout so perfect, for people could work here without being heard on the outside. In the middle of this giant room, from which the ceiling was more than a hundred feet up, there was a large open spot where carts loaded with resources drove into all directions, vanishing in the smaller rooms which connected to this one. A few hundred meters ahead, a small building hewn out of the cave wall harnessed a dozen bakers who were busy tending to the bread in the ovens, which spread a pleasant smell throughout the cave. Leroy could see the sweat dripping off their foreheads while he walked past. Next to this oven, there was some sort of tribune also hewn out of stone, where many of the cave’s inhabitants sat, some feasting on a piece of bread, and others who cast a gaze on the baker’s building every few seconds, as if this would make the process go faster. All of a sudden, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

    “Good morning Leroy, I see you got up. You must be hungry, the bakers will soon be ready with the second load of bread, so you can have some breakfast. I think it is best if we have a talk now.”

    It was Leon Vaughan, who took Leroy and seated him on the tribune. He then scurried off only to come back with two pieces of bread, a chunk of cheese and a bowl of water. It tasted simple albeit its simplicity. When Leroy had swallowed some of his food, he decided to break the ice.

    “What is your job in this massive war-machine of yours?”

    “Me?” Leon said, which sounded doubtful yet proud. “I am the son of Bartoch Vaughan, who is the current military leader of the forces of the Firenze. You could not really attribute me to a job, as I just go about and perform tasks that I see unfinished. I also get to do the fun things, like rescuing you from that wreck back there near Caravallon.”

    “How come the Firenze have survived all these years?”

    “That is quite a long story, to be honest. I could go through it for hours, but I’m not the historian here. In short, after the crushing defeat a hundred years ago, the Firenze was military defeated, but our spirit lived on. Over the past fifteen years, we have been rebuilding our force into what it is now.”

    “Then how do you fund all of this? I imagine the grain you use for the bread has to come from somewhere, and the raw materials that I see being driven around have to be paid for, not?”

    “You would wonder at how much support we still have from the people in Alteris Valley. Also, we get some income from other sources, from which I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you. I’ve sworn an oath of secrecy, you see..”

    Leroy never knew people apart from his family who openly sympathized with the Firenze, but it seemed like many common people did have ties with this organization. It wasn’t all that weird when you came to think of it, as Alteris Valley was in the biggest political crisis since a hundred years.

    Alteris Valley was the most southwestern part of the kingdom of Eldaron. As a province, it had its own government and laws, although it had to abide to the king of Eldaron in times of war. Since it was entrenched between the great mountain range called the Garduk to the north, and the wild and dangerous hills know as Bear’s Claw to the south, the only trade route to the neighboring country of Eldaron to the southwest, Val’nir, was right through the province. Therefore, many trade post had sprung throughout the province, and the large capital city of Alteris, Menoa, was founded. Due to the wealth that was acquired from the trading with Val’nir, many poor were attracted to Menoa like flies to honey, who formed slums all around Menoa. However, as Alteris Valley was extremely unfertile, and all these people had to be fed, this caused great social and political unrest.

    “Are you still there? We have much to discuss” Leon spoke before taking another bite of his breakfast. Leroy crudely awakened from his thoughts, but before he could say anything, Leon took a piece of parchment and opened it up. After reading it for a few seconds, he began:

    “So I see you were mastering the profession of the hunter. How good exactly are you at it?”

    “Well, I dare not say I have learnt everything there is about hunting, but I can trap all the deer in this region, which has always been enough for a living.”

    Leon opened his mouth, but shut it again and paused for a moment.

    “I presume you are after vengeance for your parents. We can help you with that, but nothing is free in this world, unfortunately. In turn, you will help us with our food stock by hunting for us. A lot needs to be done to keep such a large organization running, and you will do your part.”

    “Can you teach me how to fight?”

    “We can, and we will. I suggest you speak to the registrar in the building over there to ensure a sleeping place in here, as where you last slept was only a temporary solution.” Leon pointed to a small granite building farther inside the cave. “She will also instruct you futher.”

    “Just how big is this ..”, Leroy started, but before he could finish his sentence, Leon had stood up and was moving further inside the cave. He didn’t think it would have much use to go after him, so he decided to heed Leon’s advice and pay the registrar a visit.
     
  18. Killamonkey

    Killamonkey Niet zo aanstellen! XBW.nl VIP

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    Hmm je legt zelf al de vinger op de zere plek. Voor een kort verhaal gebeurt er mijns inziens te veel en voor een lang verhaal diep je de karakters te weinig uit. Ik had niet het idee de hoofdpersoon te kunnen doorgronden. De dood van zijn ouders bewerkstelligde voor mij ook geen emotie of iets in die trant. Je zou er beter aan gedaan hebben eerst zijn ouders te introduceren. Vaak heb je amper woorden nodig om sfeer te creëren en karakter te doen laten leven voor de lezer (kijk naar roald dahl's short stories). Magoe zal het morgen nog eens nuchter over lezen :D

    Edit: voor de rest is het erg goed te lezen en schrijf je zeer begrijpelijk en interessant.

    Edit 2: al helemaal voor een 17 jarige vind ik het erg sterk! Toevallig ook een Engelse achtergrond?
     
  19. Sliv

    Sliv The One and Only

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    Nee, ik geen Engelse achtergrond, maar ik heb er eigenlijk nooit moete mee gehad. Ook heb ik een jaartje in Amerika gewoond toen ik vier was, misschien dat dat heeft geholpen.

    Verder was ik zelf van plan om de familieleden van Leroy verder uit te diepen en te introduceren in flashbacks en conversaties. Ook speelt het mee dat Leroy zelf weinig weet van alle activiteiten waar zijn vader bij betrokken was. Hoe ik zijn moeder in het verhaal ga verwerken, en of ik dat wel ga doen, weet ik nog niet. Het hele idee van het verhaal is ook nog maar drie dagen oud, hoewel sommige elementen die ik erin verwerk al weken, maanden, jaren rondspelen in mijn hoofd. :)
     
  20. WOUW5

    WOUW5 Cpt. Censorshades!

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    Ik schrijf volgens mij ook beter in het Engels dan in het Nederlands, vooral met de Nederlandse grammatica heb ik moeite, terwijl ik het in het Engels veel beter aanvoel. Ik schrijf niet verhalen en dergelijke, maar lees vooral veel en probeer wel eens een recensie van iets te schrijven. Ik schrijf vooral veel voor mijn huiswerk, in het Engels :9.
    Dat ga ik morgen op mijn gemakje even lezen ;).
     

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