Looking for fanfic critics

[Firestorm 8]

I've got a fanfic going on and I really hate to see it pockmarked with mistakes and plot holes. Can anyone here help take a look at it? This prologue chapter is not complete yet but it'll be done soon.

 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1fIOlRyriqWjw0PqlUXvIcpo4O_l0m9RzJZRS8JpG8A0/edit

 

Image of the main character:

 

http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/479717_3369919333947_635003539_n.jpg

[MVC NVMXD JVRXD 2,406]

There's this guy Crona who likes to critique stuff. You should show him it.

[Zerul 554]

This ^ he doesn't seem to pull any punches either so you can go to him for a raw unbiased opinion.

[Firestorm 8]

Any other known critics?

 

Equestria 2142

April 14, 2142

8:50 a.m.

Dear diary,

The situation in Trottingham became rather unbearable as of late. With the passing of Red Thatch, several influential figures vied for control of the now empty seat. They were her trusted compatriots but the citizens of Trottingham do not trust their leadership. It’s bad enough that we’ve been hit constantly by snowstorms from the northern sectors of Equestria and the last thing we want to add to our already dire situation is a power struggle.

My dad, Old Rusty, decided to move away from Trottingham before things could get any worse. We packed all essential things for our long journey south in hopes for a better life and future. The route south won’t be easy and I pray we don’t get caught in the middle of a war zone. Land, air or sea, these places aren’t safe for travel. Even if I could fly, the skies won’t be any less dangerous than the ground due to the presence of pegasi raiders.

Will it be any better down south? Who knows? We’re leaving today and we’ll find out once we reach the border.

-Cirrus-

Prologue

It has been two hours since Old Rusty and his family left Trottingham.

They weren’t the only ones that left. Out of the twenty families, five families went along with Old Rusty. They formed a caravan bound for the nations south of Equestria where the glaciers had not reach. Each family had their own wagon. Three wagons were big enough to accommodate a nuclear family but there were two huge traveler wagons built to ferry extended families. So heavy were the huge wagons that it required three stallions to pull them.

Although the sun shone brightly, it felt so distant. Nopony felt warmth from the sun rays, no warmth to keep their cold bodies warm. The piercing cold felt like knives in their nostrils and each breath they took formed a small cloud of water vapor. While the stronger stallions pulled the wagons and formed escort groups to protect the convoy, the old, sick, mares, and young ponies huddled in the covered wagons.

The thick canvas prevented the wind from blowing into the wagons but cold air still circulated in it. The riders shivered and shook as their relatively thin fur coats did little to stop the cold. In Old Rusty’s wagon, his daughter, a pegasus named Cirrus, was writing her diary. It has been her favorite pastime to write a diary entry, no matter how mundane a day can be. Even though she was not his biological daughter, Cirrus was still like a daughter to him. He gave her the best he could offer to her, even his thick fur coat and fur cap which was given to him by his father when he was a young colt. Thick fur clothes were a rarity and much sought after. Old Rusty was lucky to have one.

To write in a cramped wagon that was rocking about with each move was no easy feat. More often than not, Cirrus found herself striking out words and they messed up her pages. Cirrus valued her diary and she cringed with each mistake she made because of the rocking motion caused by the wagon moving on uneven ground. In the end, she gave up writing another journal entry until they reach even ground.

The supply crates bounced about dangerously in the wagon so Cirrus went out of it. She leapt off the wagon and walked alongside her father. Despite being in his middle ages, Old Rusty still had the strength of a young stallion. He managed to pull the family wagon on his own even though others have offered to help him. Cirrus admired him for his endurance and tenacity.

“Feeling tired, dad?” Cirrus asked her father.

“I am, Cirrus, but we don’t have time to stop for a break,” Old Rusty said while panting from fatigue.

“Where’re we headed? Doesn’t seem like there’s a town for miles,” said Cirrus as she surveyed her surroundings.

Miles seemed like an understatement. They were in a vast and desolate snow plane that stretched into the horizon, stretching on forever. Not a single town was in sight, not even the slightest hint of a ghost town. They could see a great mountain range in the distance but it seemed like it would take years to reach it. Forest remnants pockmarked the landscape. The trees were leafless and covered in snow, long dead and frozen over by two centuries of coldness.

Wisps of snow glided over the plane like wispy spirits. They danced to the wind and followed wherever it blew. While the sunshine offered no warmth, it was still bright and the light that reflected off the snow was akin to light reflecting off a mirror. Hoofmarks and wheel marks made by the convoy marred the otherwise perfectly smooth snow plane. High in the skies were two Golden Eagles flying in circles as they looked for a prey.

“The nearest town would be Hoofington…ten miles away. Moving at this rate, we can’t reach there by nightfall,” said Old Rusty.

“So we’re gonna have to set up camp then,” Cirrus said in a bitter manner. She loathed the idea because that meant exposing themselves to the unforgiving cold and raider attacks.

“We don’t have a choice. I know you don’t like camping outdoor but we can’t turn back to Trottingham just because of raiders. Besides, I trust that Red Blaze and his brothers can keep us safe,” said her foster father.

Cirrus remained unconvinced but she was willing to give her father the benefit of doubt. He was right about Red Blaze and his three brothers. They were Trottingham’s top shooters and had unmatched bravery, at least according to Trottingham standards. Their father was a G.I. in the Equestrian Ground Forces and he was their hero. His death in combat only served to encourage them to become warriors.

The group had stopped near a frozen creek for some rest. While the surface was completely frozen over, liquid water still flowed beneath it. One of the stallions retrieved a sledgehammer from his family wagon and slammed it into the ice layer with deadly force. The slam shattered a huge portion of ice and revealed the flowing water. Each pony grabbed their cups and took big scoops of water from the creek. The water was so cold that it even made the cup too cold to hold.

“Get a fire going. Drinking cold water’s gonna get you hypothermia,” Red Blaze instructed.

“Yeah, no kidding,” a unicorn colt said dryly. “Tell us something we don’t know.” He went to his family wagon to retrieve some logs. He didn’t need to grab the logs with his hooves. He had magic to do the lifting for him.

The colt piled some dry logs together and arranged them nicely with his telekinesis magic. Then, his horn glowed orange and fired a ball of fire towards the dry log pile. The pile burst into flames with a loud bang as the fireball hit the pile. Embers flew into the air before drifting back to the ground.

“Heh, who needs matches when you got magic?” the colt said with a smug smile.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the best Even Star,” Red Blaze remarked dismissively. He walked up to the colt and ruffled his light blue mane. “Don’t overdo with the ego, kid.”

“Watch the mane! I just had that cleaned,” Even Star said with a frown on his face as he slapped away Red Blaze’s hoof.

The travelers arranged their wagons to form a circle so as to protect them from hostile creatures. It wasn’t the most effective form of defense but it was the best they could afford. The five families stayed within the wagon circle and sat around the campfire. It seemed strange for them to do something like that in the middle of the day but they needed warmth. It was more important than currency and there were stories that other ponies even fought tooth and nail just to be close to a dying flame.

A bag of hay was passed around so everypony could get their share. The young ponies were gracious enough to pass the offer to the elder ones who were in charge of pulling the wagons. They needed the energy after all. Hung over the fire was a steel pot with ice cold water in it. Flames licked at the bottom of the pot and the ponies waited patiently for the water to boil. When the bag of hay reached Cirrus’s hooves, she handed it to her father.

“Here, dad, you need it more than I do,” said Cirrus.

Old Rusty looked at the bag of hay and smiled. He took the bag and grabbed poured out some onto his plate. He then poured some onto Cirrus’s before handing it to the other ponies. At the same time, a gust of cold wind blew. Cirrus’s thick coat protected her from the cold but her father had only a think fur jacket on. The coldness made him shudder violently and he pulled the jacket tighter to his body. Old Rusty’s teeth chattered so hard that it looked like as if they were going to shatter. The rest without a thick coat suffered from the cold as well. Some foals tried to huddle close to the fire but their clumsy movements threw snow into the flames. It sizzled and sputtered as the flames nearly went out.

“Hey, hey! Keep away from the fire!” Red Blaze shouted.

While the rest of the convoy rested, Deadeye Jack, Red Blaze’s younger brother, held a discussion with the leader of the convoy, Golden Juniper. She was not the oldest in the group but she had a lot of experience in traveling. Before the start of the Second Northern War, she traveled all over Equestria to places like Riverbay, Canterlot, Manehatten, and even Ibexia, the land of the ibexes located at the northeastern tip of the continent. If anypony had a good sense of direction, it was her.

The two were inside Deadeye Jack’s family wagon. A map of Equestria was placed on top of a wooden crate. Deadeye Jack tapped the tip of his hoof at where he assumed they were. It was not far from Trottingham.

“We haven’t gotten far yet and there’s still a lot of open space to cover before we reach Hoofington,” said Deadeye. “I suggest we keep moving until we reach Checkpoint Ticonderoga.”

Checkpoint Ticonderoga was a military outpost and trading station. It was once a holiday town known as Clydesdale where ponies would go for the summer holidays. It remained a place of attraction until the glaciers turned the once bustling town and its surrounding temperate forest into an icy wasteland populated with dead trees. After the end of the First Northern War some one hundred and ninety seven years ago, the army turned the town into a military supply station to supply border fortresses and bases towards the north.

At first, the base was subject to looting from daring raiders. It lasted for two years until Princess Cadance ordered to have it reinforced with two battalions of troops and vehicles. It seemed like overkill but the move dissuaded further raids from raider clans and would-be troublemakers. Once things have settled down, the base was open to wanderers and travelers where they can find a place to rest before continuing their journey.

Checkpoint Ticonderoga was the perfect place to make a pitstop.

“There is one problem though,” Golden Juniper muttered. “Checkpoint Ticonderoga is located behind the Hoofback Mountains. We have two ways of reaching it. We either walk around the mountains or we take the mountain pass. Since we’re traveling with a convoy, walking around the mountain is the only feasible way. The mountain pass is too narrow.”

“How long will that take?” Deadeye asked Juniper as he lifted his eyes from the map to look at her.

“Moving at current speed…I say it’ll take us around…two to three days. As much as I like Checkpoint Ticonderoga, we’re gonna waste a lot of time reaching it. I suggest going to an alternate pitstop.” Golden Juniper tapped at an unmarked area of the map located somewhere between Checkpoint Ticonderoga and the position their currently at. “It’s not marked on the map but there is another community here. I think it’s called New Clydesdale. Been there once while I was on my way to Canterlot. It’s a pretty secluded community but the ponies there are nice even though they’re slightly suspicious of outsiders.”

“How can you be nice and suspicious at the same time?”

“Once you get to know them, they’re quite hospitable,” Juniper answered. She patted Deadeye’s back and said, “Don’t worry, you leave the talking to me. I’ve stayed there long enough to make friends with the town’s elder.”

“You must have a lot to talk about,” Deadeye quipped. “Didn’t think somepony as quiet as you could strike up a conversation with an elder. You never did that with Red Thatch.”

Juniper nodded. “Never underestimate the quiet ones. I’m not what it seems,” she said with a playful smile. “So, New Clydesdale?”

Deadeye looked at the map again and scrutinized it for several seconds. Where they were right now, there wasn’t many places to go. Going up north meant going into a warzone where the Equestrian Army was currently engaged in battle with the Coalition.

“We don’t really have other choices now, do we?”

“Nope.”

Deadeye admired Juniper’s traveling experience. He wished he was like her but Deadeye never made the effort to travel. Even if he did make efforts to do so, Red Blaze wouldn’t let him go anywhere without him.

Juniper emerged from the wagon and cleared her throat loudly to get everypony’s attention. The sounds of talking and laughing died down as each of them turned their attention to the earth pony.

“We’ve decided to make a pitstop at New Clydesdale. It’s not far from here and we can spend the night there before going to Hoofington. I say we make a move now before the sun sets. I’m not keen on camping out here…not when there’re raider groups prowling about,” said Juniper to the entire convoy.

“New Clydesdale? Never heard of that place,” Even Star said.

“I never heard of it too until I went traveling. Pack up now and move out. If we leave now, we can reach the town by sunset,” Juniper said.

Cirrus liked the idea. Perhaps they didn’t need to spend a night in the open and subject themselves to the mercy of the elements and raiders. She was about to voice her agreement when Red Blaze chimed in.

“Can’t you let them take a breather first? We’ve only stopped for like twenty minutes. Give them an hour, then we’ll move out,” said the bright red earth stallion.

Juniper shook her head and said, “We move now. The sooner we reach New Clydesdale, the better.”

Nopony wanted to question Juniper. With so many roads to cover, it would be better if they made their move now. Old Rusty consulted his watch and saw that it was only ten minutes past eleven. If Juniper really wanted them to leave early, New Clydesdale must’ve been quite a distance away. The group worked fast and packed everything up. The campfire was covered with snow and logs were not completely burnt were collected back as they were reusable. While the stallions harnessed themselves to their respective family wagons, Cirrus noticed several translucent creatures circling about in the skies above.

“What’s that?” Cirrus asked her father while pointing at the creatures.

Her father followed her gaze, “Those are windigoes. If I remember correctly, they feed on hatred. Given the current situation Equestria is in now, I’m not surprised they’re here.”

“But we don’t hate each other, right? I mean we’re all friends. Sure we fight sometimes but we’re still friends,” said Cirrus.

Old Rusty chuckled and said, “There’s more to this world than friends, Cirrus. One of these days, you’ll learn that not everypony is nice.”

Cirrus didn’t understand what her father meant but she left it as such. With her father around, she knew everything will be alright. The windigoes did not stay long. Just as the convoy started to make a move, they dissipated into thin air but their faint howls could be heard. It sounded like hungry dragons and the howl made every pony in the convoy shudder. This was the first time they actually heard windigoes howl.

“Man…that sounds worse than a timber wolf howl,” Deadeye muttered.

[Finesthour 7,287]

My critique:

• The plot of this fiction sounds interesting, but the prologue gives it no justice. The prologue is simply boring.
• Now don't get me wrong, this is a very good fic so far. But it is not my cup of tea.
• The dialogue is very slow and uninteresting. It doesn't show their personalities in the slightest. It just is spoken words to set up the setting.
• Your grammar is pretty solid, but there are some mistakes here and there.
• You posses very good descriptive skills. I can truly see the environment around me.

That's all I can really say with what is going on from a prolouge. I would say work on bringing the plot closer into this. Have like a civil dispute or something, just something to keep the reader interested.

3/5