The Story of a Blacksmith's Son

Pokemon Targeted: Magby & Combee (Simple & Simple)
Expected Character Count: 10000-20000 characters
Actual Character Count: 16647 characters
All spellings are in English United Kingdom
Ready to be graded

The day was bright and all was calm, beautiful displays of flora lay around as an endearing sun beamed down on the soothing landscape. A babbling brook carrying schools of shimmering Goldeen meandered their way around the calm yet mountainous way of Floaroma Town. The air was filled with a pleasant breeze and refreshing aromas. The awe-inspiring atmosphere made it haven for Pokemon and humans alike.

Through the town came a lad of about fifteen. Despite his age his features were etched from working as an apprentice blacksmith. His fathers' company had predated the local Fuego Ironworks and had been part of the village's history for over 300 years. On numerous occasions throughout the years, the larger company had tried to "buy out" the family business but his ancestors have remained as stubborn as ever.

The adolescence idly dawdled through the town centre, hypnotised by the copious number of spores in the air, taking in the summer's day. His father had always been very critical of him and regularly shouted words of discouragement to him. "You're a waste of the given gift of life" was a favourite of his, "you're a disgrace on the name of our family" he used almost as much. It did not bother him, everyday he was left unscathed from the wrath of his role model. He had got used to it after being brutally ripped to shreds for most of his teen years.

He walked on, staring into oblivion and paying no attention into what was going on around him. His mind was so racked up he could have fell down a pitfall and not noticed. This was normal for him as he had always been a dreamer. He had been wishing for all his life and he did not intend to stop soon. Everything could be looked on as something else, normal people would see a river as a stream of water fed by a source, but not this one, a river could be moat preventing him from getting to the love of his life or an evanescent spring granting new life to all who pass. Although he looked much older his mind was still as creative as that of a seven year old's.

"Michael!" A booming voice swept through the town louder than a falling tree. The source stood a few yards away from the boy. "Michael, you should be at the shop now! Who else is going to serve our customers? And that was rhetorical, that means do not answer it, get your backside to the shop now or we shall be having words," he continued, nearly taking the glass out of the windows of the nearest house.

The boy stopped in his tracks and stared at the ground with one eye open. He had hoped that his father would have been gone for longer. His face was long as he let out an exasperated sigh. He looked up at the man who had just released all fury onto him and spoke.

"I'm sorry dad, I was just..."

"I do not want to here your excuses you little runt, get back before I disown you, you're a disgrace on the name of our family," delivered Michael's father spitefully. He stood in suspense, staring at his son with intent to ruin him. When many fathers speak such way they may be in a fit of rage, they may be trying to make a life better for others, but not this one, this is a father who genuinely despised his son. He had tried a gentle touch, to sympathise and to empathise, but nothing had worked. He was left with a lone son who could not bear the weight of the family lineage. He as the only one who could carry on from him and he was the only person known who could not cope with such an outcome.

Michael turned in his path, bored with his mundane life. Sure, his mother had passed away in his youth and he had an abusive father, but not once did Michael consider his life notable. His dad had pulled him out of the Pokemon Academy in Jubilife City to concentrate on his work. He was left without friends or ambition. He had aspired to be a "Pokemon Master." The title was held completely fictitious, it was not an official title but merely a compliment, nothing more than a mother calling her child handsome, but of course, Michael did not have that as an escape route.

His family did not have the money for a furnace, one main factor in why they only had three regular visitors; they relied on Pokemon instead, even at that they did not have many. A Magnemite that was supposed to gather iron and a newly hatched Magby of whom was responsible to smelt and weld the iron in question. The team hardly had a dynamic. The Magnemite usually came back with the tiniest speck of iron while the Magby would burn all the iron that had made it back to a crisp. It was the offspring of a Magmar that had been with the family for generations, the Magmar in question was sold to get Michael's father out of the debt that had been caused by a housefire.

Michael did not care for working with the Pokemon, not because he disliked them, an assumption most people jump to, but rather because he thought that they could do so much better. Every time he watches them work to their limits in a sweltering hot shack made of charred and greasy wood, sweating themselves to the bone out of fear from being hurt by their master. Their skin was stained with oil and salt, every single day was unmerciful for these creatures.

With his only role model in life being a careless and arrogant elder, Michael had not grown-up as the most obedient person. "Get back now!" sounded pretty much as "Go back whenever you like," as far as he was concerned. He knew that his father would be out for another few hours and it was incredibly unlikely they were going to get a customer on a weekend. He turned his caution to the wind and head off towards the Valley Windworks.

The day was still very much alive. He set course down the cobbled road of scattered stones that had been layed down only weeks ago. He trundled along with his head in the clouds watching an overhead colony of Starly go by. The sunlight bounced of their wings and the light cascaded downwards basking the ground in an ambient glow. Floaroma Town had always been known for the smells conjured up by the natural beauty present there, nothing could describe the wondrous feeling of strolling through the lifting surroundings of the natural world.

Several years ago a villainous team called Team Galactic had dissembled. The team in question had in the past bothered, of all places, the local windworks. They were forced to dissemble as a pair a young children had "foiled their plans" as they had put it and stopped them from carrying out each one of their operations. Since the abolishment of Team Galactic, young rogues could be found all around claiming that they were Team Galactic members though usually they were just bullies who had no redeeming qualities so they decided the only way out was to die their hair blue and go around acting in a "disorderly fashion" as quoted from many police reports. Today was one such day that the so called "Team Galactic members" had come out to play.

As Michael walked on there was a disruption to the sensatory heaven, a clear smell of burning had found its way into the air current. Ever inquisitive, his immediate reaction was to see where it was coming from, he slowly made his way into a jog. He steadily made is way along side a ruined paradise, speeding up as he did so. By the time he could see the Valley Windworks, as well as the source of the smell, he was in a mad rush. There in front him was a tree set alight with no one to be seen. As he drew closer it became apparent that there was more than a tree at risk, a lone Combee was trapped inside the blazing inferno.

Michael was used to working under heat and pressure but this left him totally unprepared. He stood in a blind panic search for a clue as to what he should do. If he went to get a Squirtbottle from the ladies of the nearby flower shop the tree would be long gone along with the Combee that inhabited it. In a brave or possibly thoughtless move he tear himself through the tree in order to save the endangered Pokemon. For a moment his skin seared and scalded. The pressure that had built up within the outer reaches of the honey tree was hell to live through. He felt several of his blood vessels break through the intensity of the moment.



"D'you think he's alive."

"Does it matter? We need to get out of here."

"We can't just leave him here."

"Of course we can, you don't wanna get done do you?"

"Ey! Hold it, he's waking up."

The ground around where Michael lay was charred to the core, jet black like the night. His eyes opened as slits slowly taking in the incoming light. He had burns across his shoulder and had searing pain all across his left side. Above him stood two teens of about his age in tight white lycra with dyed blue hair. He tried to get up using his upper body weight but it was no use, he suddenly became apparent of a huge weight on his leg. He turned over and noticed that the tree he had just been alight now lay rest upon his leg. He was unable to feel any sensation in his foot.

"Wh, Who are you?" stuttered Michael.

The teens looked at each other with fright in their eyes, unable to entail what was to come. They had not expected the boy to awake so soon and they had not prepared for this situation. In a rash panic they had left themselves completely helpless. Right now the only thing they could do was run, they simultaneously turned and ran as fast as they could carry themselves. They hurried off into the distance until a surlier and slightly taller character appeared, arising over the horizon.

"Y'know what Saturn said, we need to finish the job or, well."

"We've done what he asked, the kid's woken up, we need to get out of here."

"If he gets away he'll spread the word, we need to dispose of him"

"Well we're out, I can't kill anyone, what if we get found out."

"Get out then, I don't have time for soft touches like you, I'll take care of this."

Michael still had a firm grasp on Combee, who had not moved since he awoke. He saw the older teen coming towards him in an intimidating stance. Across his belt, a shining Pokeball was displayed. His hair was lightning blue and his face was scarred as if it had been sanded down. As he drew closer it became apparent that the figure did not have the best intentions. He stood tall over the slumped child. His eyes were filled with spite as he reached for his belt.

"Now, you think you can just go messing with our plans do you?"

"But I didn't..."

"Enough, this'll teach you."

The ruffian threw the Pokeball he had managed to take from his belt in the time he was speaking onto the ground. A red string of plasma emerged from it and slowly crept its way up into the air and merged into a shape as if filling a mold. Powerful legs formed topped by a muscular torso, four strong arm emerged from the body, a vein-like blue colour filled the shape, as its head erupted from its top it became apparent that this foe was no less than a Machamp.

Michael was left flailing without hope. He tried to lift himself from his vulnerable position in order to beg for mercy. His attempts were useless, the killer had no intentions of sparing any chance victim. The Machamp drew closer getting ready to strike, it was going for the kill, one Karate Chop from a Pokemon as strong as that would knock him dead, there was no hope yet.

"Never underestimate the power of Team Galactic, our last leader was a coward who didn't want us to kill, but Saturn isn't stopping at anything to clear out what we don't need. Hit him with a Cross Chop Machamp!"

Tension built up around the criminal and victim. Within a couple of seconds death would unfold right before them. This couldn't be happening, a nice walk on a day out had led to this in a matter of hours. Michael could smell the death before him, every moment was filled with the most painful anticipation imaginable. All hope was lost.

Suddenly, a flaming wall intercepted the hit, both Machamp and Michael flew backwards. Both life and light twisted through the searing flames. Michael's life had been spared, if not for a moment. His mysterious benefactor stood feet away from him, splitting him from his largest adversary. As the flare and subsequent smoke cleared. Michael's elusive saviour was revealed to be none other than Magby, the same Magby who worked at his father's company.

Michael was in complete bewilderment at how Magby had got here but at the moment he didn't care, it had come to save him out of respect, respect that he had earned. His mind was in a state of both awe and pride. Despite this he had bigger things to worry about and Magby was his way out, he had to rise to the plate and take his responsibility as the "trainer" of Magby.

"Try a Fire Spin Magby, you can't lose this one!"

"This should be over quick, end it with a Submission!"

Magby dove into the fighting arena, lighting up the path in his way leaving flares behind him on the grass though it's speed was nothing compared to that of Machamp, of whom quickly swept in with the first attack, grappling Magby into a wrestling hold. Magby was held into position with, like its trainer, no way to move.

"Get him of you with a Flamethrower!"

Magby began to spew out flames in order to release itself from Machamp's grip, but Machamp being ever the experienced battler was not giving anything away. His knuckles tightened up as he got ready to blow, awaiting commands from his owner.

"Dispose of the rat, Vital Throw!"

Pulling off a triple revolution the Machamp sent its small foe rocketing over the field to the exact spot where Michael was lying. Yet again, he was without hope, maybe there was another hope but he could not see it. His body began to warm up with fear, but not just fear, his arms started to vibrate and glow. The Combee he had harvested since his collapse had awoken, just in time to see its final moments.

"Finish them all with a Focus Blast!"

Machamp lay in suspense a good distance away from the group, tensing its muscles to guarantee a finishing attack. Michael had prepared himself for this, he could accept what was going to be of him. Machamp broke into a sprint and was heading at full speed towards them. A few seconds from Team Galactic's first kill, or at least it was thought.

"Machamp, why have you stopped? Get out there and crush them!"

Over the horizon came thousands upon thousands of Combee, barraging towards the windworks at high speed. The noise was deafening and swept all of nature in its path. Burmy fell out of all nearby trees and Shellos emerged from the waters. As the Combee slowly landed they formed a towering honeycomb structure. The wall of honey dwarfed all around it, toppling thirty feed. As the swarm settled it became apparent that the Combee were not alone. From the pack emerged an enormous Vespiquen ready to strike.

"So you think you can just frighten me away with some big bug, I'm not scared!"

At the moment Vespiquen revealed itself Machamp started to back away through the fright of the sudden encounter. The Combee from within Michael's arms started to glow and rise taking its place at the top central spot in the wall. The lead Vespiquen elegantly glided down to the edge of the wall. With much vigour and anger, the sort that would be given by a protective mother to a bully of their child, she pointed towards the Machamp, ordering the Combee to attack. One by one, the Combee flung themselves at Machamp with all possible strength. Relentlessly savaged by miniscule bullets Machamp had no choice to retreat, taking its trainer with it.

"What are you doing you big stupid hunk of junk! Get your big clown arms off me!"

As the intimidating and gullible teen was dragged away the Combee wall began to disassemble. The spectacle that had just been displayed for all to see was folding up between him and the fleeing villain. Things had finished as quickly as they had started and Michael was left lying with a fallen Magby. The supersonic waves caused by the Combee beating their wings had displaced the log that had previously trapped him.

Michael had been awestruck at the events that had just unfolded around him, by this time the Combee had completely disappeared and he wondered if it had all really happened. He could walk fine, well moderately fine. He harvested Magby in his hands and limped off back towards Floroama Town. It was before he had moved at all that a Combee had descended upon him with its cheery face, making all apparent. Michael had made not one friend, but also a valuable ally. Team Galactic's escapades had been beneficial. A little less weight was taken off his shoulders in order to make his life slightly more bearable. His good nature had earned him his first Pokemon.

 

Note: I am not a Grader (yet) and this is just a personal and unofficial opinion. xD

Eheheheh... Where do I start?
The first paragraph is very purple, but I like how Team Galactic and the Combee wall "Dissemble"-- I think you meant, "Disassemble."

Overall good enough, in that I can understand what's going on. The plot is existent and just about adequate. We'll see what the Graders think. ^_^

 

I know that some of the paragraphs were a bit high-description, I'm quite good at it but not so much on dialogue or general plot advancing, but yeah, thanks

 

Claimed for Grading.

 

Introduction:

I thought that your introduction was very well-written. It established the setting of Floarama Town with vivid details, and gave the town a serene feel that was contrasted throughout the rest of the story thanks to the action that went on later. In that vein, I must say that you did a great job. However, I should mention that this introduction doesn't really have a strong hook that gets the reader's attention immediately and draws them into the story. Lots of detail is nice, but without that hook, your introduction loses that impact that would really help to establish your story.

An example that I could give here comes in the form of flashback storytelling. You could have started the story with Michael attempting to move through the fire to rescue the Combee, and, just as he lost consciousness in the impressive heat that the fire was giving off, you could cut back to the beginning of the story. In this way, you'd be able to give lots of details on the fire and its adverse effects on Michael in the beginning, and you'd still get to talk about the ambiance of Floarama Town immediately after that excerpt is finished. Plus, your readers will then wonder, "How'd he end up in a fire, anyway? I'd better keep reading to find out." This is the hook you're looking for - it draws your readers in and keeps them interested.

Plot:
Michael is a dreamer - his creative side always seems to get the better of him, to his father's chagrin. His father knows that he needs to become more down-to-earth in order to be the Fuego Ironworks successor, but that doesn't seem likely to happen anytime soon. In a typical example of their strained relationship, Michael decides to take a walk to the Windworks, foregoing his duty as the store clerk. He comes upon a burning tree with a stranded Combee inside, and attempts to save it, which ends with the tree falling on top of him and him being knocked out. When he wakes, members(?) of the disbanded Team Galactic are looming over him, debating what to do with him. Most decide to leave him, but one decides that he's seen too much, and releases his Machamp to kill him. Michael is saved by the Magby that works at the Ironworks and the other members of the Combee's hive, who succeed in making the thugs flee.

Underneath all of the details, this is a pretty simple plot that generally falls into the mold of, "Kid finds Pokemon in trouble, Kid rescues Pokemon, Pokemon joins his team". You didn't use the mold outright, though; instead, you twisted it and made the story more original with a few points of interest. I liked how you fleshed out what would happen to Team Galactic after the heroes from the 4th Generation caused them to disband; it added some depth to the story, rather than just having random thugs attacking Michael. I also liked how you had the Combee saving him in the end, rather than the other way around, which is the norm for the mold described above.

Overall, it's a pretty solid plot, considering your targets. I would have liked to see a little more on the Fuego Ironworks plot point that you threw into the story (for the most part, all I got was that Michael was the successor). However, this story seems to be one that you'd make a continuation for, so I'm sure you'll go into more details later.

Dialogue:
As you said yourself, the dialogue in this story was lacking; it was entirely overshadowed by the details that you gave. While having lots of detail in your story is a good thing, if it overshadows the dialogue, it has the adverse side effect of taking away from the personalities of your characters.

Generally, dialogue is a good way to show your characters' feelings about a certain situation, which gives them personality and depth that allows readers to connect to them easier. With your story, I could understand pretty easily that Michael's father is not a happy person and the apparent "leader" of the group of thugs is ruthless and unmerciful; however, I really didn't get much from Michael's personality. You said that he was a dreamer, but you didn't really back this up through his spoken words. It's a case of showing something versus telling it: you can say that he's a dreamer, but without dialogue to back that claim up, it's going to be hard for me to believe you.

I'll give you a couple of suggestions for writing dialogue. First and foremost, the process of writing dialogue is not as set in stone as writing details. I'm under the assumption that Michael is around the same age as you. If this is the case, try reading your dialogue out loud every so often when proofreading your story. Then ask yourself, "Can I say this to my friends without sounding like I'm trying too hard?" If the answer is no, you'll want to go back and edit it until you're confident you can actually carry on this conversation in real life. While writing this dialogue, keep the personalities of your characters in mind, and alter their language accordingly. For example, if one of your characters is particularly snobbish and self-centered, he would use more complex language when speaking, because he thinks he's better than everyone else. This sort of customization is what helps readers see the personalities of your characters.

Writing solid dialogue takes practice, so try it for yourself in your future stories. The more you practice with what I've suggested, the better you'll get at showing the reader the personalities of your characters, and you'll be able to spare us the potentially-flow-breaking paragraph of telling us about these characters.

Grammar:
In a word, semicolons.

There were a lot of situations in this story that could have warranted semicolons, but they weren't used. Generally, if two ideas are connected, but they can be complete thoughts and stand as sentences on their own, they can be separated by a semicolon to make the story look more grammatically correct.

Here are just a few examples of sentences from your story that were in this situation:

Here are those quotes again, except with semicolons and a few simple corrections to better accommodate them:

Using the proper punctuation mark is another thing that just comes with practice, so experiment with the different marks, and get to know what situation asks for what mark. Once you get the hang of it, your story's flow will be much smoother.

Another suggestion I can make is to denote a clearer text break when a significant amount of time has passed between scenes. You used more space when this happened in your story, but an actual text break would make the scene switch absolutely apparent to everyone. Something like this would do:

Lastly, make sure you watch your question marks in dialogue. In some cases, such as the line in the above quote, there should have been a question mark at the end of the dialogue instead of the period to indicate that it was indeed a question.

Other than these suggestions, your grammar was good. There were a word usage errors that wouldn't have been picked up by a Word processor, but it didn't interrupt the flow of the story, so to point them out would be nitpicking.

Detail and Description:
As I said in the introduction, your details were great, and your descriptions were beautiful. Thanks to the effort you put into this section, I could see clearly everything that went on in the story, and that's definitely a plus.

The only thing I wish you'd described with more detail was Michael's appearance, because it was difficult to truly put him into the situations without knowing what he looks like. You started to describe his appearance by noting his features early in the story, but that evolved into a tangential conversation about how his father treated him, so I never got the full picture. I'd highly recommend describing his appearance more in your future works, if you use him again.

Battle:
I thought that the battle was quite well done. You described the attacks and their effects on the Pokemon they hit very well. In addition, I loved your description of the Defend and Attack Order commands from the queen Vespiquen: they were very well-written, and gave plenty of details to the scene.

I only wish that the battle was a bit longer, because though it was detailed, it seemed kind of short to me. That's no big deal for the target Pokemon, but if you go for something more complex, you should definitely expand upon the battles and give them more scope, because a well-written battle always earns high marks in the Grade.

Length:
The combined suggested length for this story is 10,000 to 20,000 characters. Your story is 16,647 characters; that's right about in the middle, which is generally where you want to aim for. Good job!

Outcome:
Drum roll, please...

...

Magby and Combee followed Michael all the way back home to Floarama Town, as if they had been his friends for many years. I wonder what his father will think when he sees this?

Gotcha! Magby and Combee were caught!

Try taking my suggestions into account in your future stories, and practice with the parts that you think you struggle with. After a little time practicing, you'll get the hang of it.

Enjoy your new Pokemon!

 

Thanks for grading it and for the pointers, I'll keep them in mind and its greatly appreciated (The reason I didn't use semi-colons that much is because my English teacher said I overuse them, I'll try to get the balance)