forum I'm bored, so....
Started by @SupernaturalSyGuyIsTIred group
tune

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@SupernaturalSyGuyIsTIred group

I'm up to critiquing something! If it's a character you want critiqued, I ask that I get a excerpt from the story that they are in so I can get a better feel for them; I can even critique the excerpt if you'd like…. Other than that, I can critique some things for ya!

@Yamatsu

How big is your excerpt limit, because I've got a chapter that I've needed critiqued for a while? You could also check out the thread that says "Critique my third chapter" if you want. Otherwise, I may have some smaller things that may need a fresh set of eyes on.

@Yamatsu

Do you want me to paste the chapter in here, or can you find the thread? I've got some other things that may need attention when necessary.

@Yamatsu

I've been making good progress, but I need to get some feedback on this chapter before I can continue on. Also, sorry that the picture at the very bottom doesn't show up properly. There are just some formats that Notebook doesn't like.

Chapter 3
Of course, Yama and his family weren’t going to set out immediately. That’d be crazy, especially when dealing with a threat like the Matriarch. Instead, they decided to take a week to prepare. Guinevere packed an extra two sets of clothes for herself and her son, along with other essentials that she placed in a large leather sack. Gawain would be wearing this, as he was the designated pack-mule. He didn’t mind, it was only when Yama wanted to have an extra three weapons that were all built two sizes too big. And, of course, he wanted to make a weapon during that time.
“What do you need ANOTHER weapon for?!” Guinevere asked, testing the straps on Gawain to make sure that they were secure.
“We’re going to war here. I gotta make something that can hold off everything!” the Half-Dragon said. “Besides, I’ll only be using materials that I already have. Oh, hey Dad?”
“Yeah?” The dragon turned his head.
“Can you help me get some of that special stone? Down in the Hoard?”
“Uh, sure. In a minute.” Gawain was apprehensive, mostly because he didn’t know how his wife would react. She only gave an exasperated sigh before continuing to tighten down the straps.
Of course, Yama wasn’t going to wait. He had work to do. Down at the deepest point in Death Mountain, there was the Hoard. However, it wasn’t the Hoard Hoard. Dragons usually have at least two hoards, one for gold and the other for special possessions. Unfortunately, they are all referred to with a capital H, so things can get confusing when talking about multiple Hoards across multiple dragons. The one Yama was going to held his father’s most prized possessions. Stones.
The stone Hoard was dark, the torches hadn’t been lit yet. He used his Seismic Sense to find where each of the torches was on the wall and spit a small fireball just above them to set the cloth ablaze. As the firelight began to illuminate the cavern, shadows began to play on a massive pile of stones. These weren’t gems, nor were they rare metals. They were just stones, worn smooth thanks to the passage of time, wind, and water. They were nothing special to Yama, but his father had a strange fascination with them. They were apart of his Hoard, and the Half-Dragon certainly wasn’t going to touch them, not with the beating he was threatened with. Corporal punishment was never a thing in his household, but you NEVER touch a dragon’s personal Hoard. Not if you wanted to see the sunrise. Fortunately, Both Yama and Gawain had agreed that they could go into their Hoards when needed, but only in emergencies or if they didn’t touch anything.
Yama knew where to look for the actual stone he needed, but it wasn’t found in his father’s pile. Towards the very back of the room and about a hundred feet under the floor, there was a massive deposit of basalt. Death Mountain was a volcano many centuries ago, and the whole mountain had since cooled down. Igneous rocks littered the cavern, but this specific deposit was special. It was far denser than most stone, and contain flecks of obsidian, naturally sharpened over years of formation. Yama lifted his hands, focusing on the deposit and pushing with his mind and body. A low rumble emanated from below the Half-Dragon’s feet, and stone gave way to rock which rose from the floor.
The basalt was a grayish black, with glittering points like stars. Yama could manage to pull up the stone, but he needed his father’s help to cut it properly. That was another aspect that Gawain had over his son, years and years of experience allowed him to perfectly carve stone and gems using his talons like chisels. Yama was better than most craftsman according to his parents, but there were a lot of things that Earthbending simply couldn’t do that tools and manual labor could. After a few minutes of pondering what part should be carved, Yama could hear (and feel) his father trudging down the cavern to the Hoard. The straps were shuffling and the bronze fittings jangled and scraped along the stone walls. It was almost like those bells that humans would put on cats. The Caravaneers had a pet cat with a bell on the collar, it was the unofficial mascot.
“You in here?” the dragon called out.
“Can’t you feel me?”
“Just making sure.”
Gawain knew if any of his stones were even moved, and as he passed by, he picked up a red rock that was a few feet from the bottom of the pile. He looked at Yama, who held his hands up in the universal “don’t shoot!” gesture. His father smiled and tossed the rock back into the mound, where is clacked and knocked four more loose, creating a mini avalanche that slowly fell to his feet. Yama couldn’t help laughing, and Gawain eventually broke down laughing, too.
“I’ll take care of that later.”
Yama pointed out where he wanted his father to take stone, right in the very center of the deposit. Gawain carefully placed his claw on the top of the deposit and made a hole. Keeping his claw stuck inside, the dragon closed his eyes and gave a short grunt. The deposit cracked loudly, so loudly that Yama would have covered his ears if he had the time. Stone crumbled away, and within the pile there was a perfectly rectangular block. It was just a bit bigger than Yama’s torso, measuring two feet by one foot by one foot exactly. The stone looked gorgeous, but there was all that waste from the process,
“I thought you were going to carve it out?” Yama questioned while using his own Bending to pick up this valuable component of his weapon.
“I figured I would try something new. Sorry about the noise,” Gawain said while sweeping up the excess basalt with his tail. Fortunately, everything was perfectly smooth with sharp edges and corners. Yama kept the stone aloft and floating next to him, and he thanked his father before leaving. As soon as he stepped outside, he realized he forgot something.
“Hey, dad?” he said, poking his head back into the Hoard.
“Yeah?”
“Where did you say you kept that cannon?”
“What the hell are you building, exactly?”
“You’ll see. It’s something that’s gonna be really useful, I promise!”
Yama was directed to his parents’ bedroom, where there was a large steel cannon mounted next to his mother’s vanity. Gawain certainly had some strange decorating ideas. The cannon itself was stolen from some lord’s fortress out in the west, but no one dared to try and come to get it back. It was intricately carved detailing a lion fighting both a dragon and a wyvern, which certainly didn’t mirror human attitudes towards both races AT ALL. Yama and his family just liked the mountains, that’s all. The Half-Dragon took both the basalt and the cannon with him, and he said a quick goodbye before leaving.
“Hey, wait a minute!” his mother called out. “Where are you going?!”
“Back to the Forge. I gotta get to work if we want to leave in a week.”
“Have you packed your clothes?”
“They’re at the Forge, Mom.”
“Food?”
“I have a pantry.”
“Toothbrush?”
“Do you think we’re going to have access to that the entire trip? We may be going longer than we anticipate.”
“At least give me a hug before you go.” Guinevere held her arms out expectantly. Yama had to oblige, so he set down his materials and embraced her. He needed to move his head to the side, but his snout was almost in her armpit. She held for longer than he would have cared, but Yama still held on. You never know what may happen, his family found it best to try and say something nice before leaving. Yama left for the Forge and touched down as the sun was beginning to set.
• • •

Yama spent the next four days working, stopping only to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom. He needed to modify the cannon the most, as it was one of those old muzzle-loaders that had the cannonball packed in with gunpowder. The Half-Dragon was going to have to make the cannon run on a trigger and make it load something akin to oversized bullets. This weapon was going to be utterly ridiculous, but he figured it would (at the very least) be great for intimidation if necessary.
During the days Yama spent working, he managed to shorten the cannon barrel significantly. He kept the section with the carving, which was towards the base, but replaced the interior with a barrel that would extend when a hinge was released. That way, he reduced the cannon length by about a foot and took off a lot of weight. Yama had also seen designs of some pistols in the north that had a revolving cylinder that could hold multiple bullets. Yama wasn’t going to need nearly that many, so he had part of the cannon release and open from the side. He could load a large bullet that contained a slug that was the size of a three-pound cannonball and remove the shell when he opened the gun up. It wasn’t efficient, but Yama figured he’d have plenty of time to reload if the shot hit its mark. Cannons like the one Yama was using were the lighter variants that were sometimes used in human conflicts, but could easily harm a wyvern or dragon of close enough.
The cannon was finished, but then Yama had to attach a handle to the cannon. Yama used a steel bar that he had laying around, and he cut it to shape. He then created a trigger mechanism that was big enough where he could squeeze it with his hand and had a safety that could lock it in place. He also included a handguard that was dished like a spoon to keep his knuckles safe.
Then, there was the pommel. He knew it wasn’t going to do much as a counterbalance, seeing as what he was making was just so heavy, but it might as well look cool. Yama cast the first part out of bronze, a dome that was just a bit smaller than the diameter of the thick part of the cannon. Then, he forged the rest out of iron (with an anti-rust alloy in there) and carved grooves along the edges. Attaching the two pieces together, it looked like a large gear was cut in half. Yama welded them together with Earthbending, and then to the handle. The handle was then wrapped in leather, but Yama’s fat claws couldn’t hold the tube of glue correctly without puncturing it. Aside from getting glue on his hands, he spent about ten minutes with a wet rag and a file trying to remove all the excess glue that squished out from the sides of the wrapping.
Finally, there was that large chunk of basalt that the craftsman was saving. Using Earthbending and a few rivets Yama attached the stone to the bore of the cannon itself. He had just completed a massive warhammer, with a cannon in the handle that could fire massive rounds at high speed. Yama marveled at his work, laying the weapon on the ground with the pommel sticking up. It was glorious, a weapon fit for battle with the fiercest enemies!
Yama paused, however. He realized that he was trying to STOP a war, not take part. Why did he spend all that time creating a weapon when he wanted peace? He couldn’t admit this to himself, but Yama secretly hoped for a fight, just so he could get the chance to test out the creations he spent so long making. It was nice to have a sword on a shelf, but that blade’s purpose was to cut someone whether it be out of malicious intent or the desire to protect. While he had an uncanny fascination with weaponry, he mostly favored the process of creating them. It gave his hands something to do and gave him a way to spend time alone or to vent emotions without unloading it onto someone who may or may not care. Yama deeply loved his parents, but sometimes his insecurities and worries seemed trivial compared to their entire relationship and what it stood for. Rather than worry them more than they already were, the Half-Dragon decided it would be best to just keep working. Even then, it never felt like work to him. Every piece he created presented some new challenge, and nothing he made was the exact same. That was why he stamped it with his personal seal, a carving on the bottom of the pommel.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjF36PM35PfAhWFneAKHeGOBuYQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.mother-god.com%2Fkanji-symbol-mountain.html&psig=AOvVaw3Fp9Tv-KEnh7a1xwWXfuIe&ust=1544479171225501

@Yamatsu

Thank you very much! There were a lot of grammatical errors that I didn't catch, so it's nice having a fresh set of eyes.