My novel, please critique

[cyphus4]

I am new to this forum and I am new to writing in general. I have wrote short stories in the past, but this is my second attempt at a novel. As such, please feel free to give me any tips and pointers you think of.

The story takes place in a world of gritty fantasy of my design. I have been using this world in a modified ruleset of Dungeons & Dragons for 8 years. So far from what I have decided from the plotline that I have wrote, there will be three main characters. The first is Belvo the Black, a character I have used in my last D&D campaign. I decided I wanted to flesh out his story. The other two characters are actually the focus of my first book which is the one I am writing. The other two characters are - Aiden, a self-taught animal tracker, and Gerbode, an aged investigator sent by the most powerful faith or church in my world.
To simplify the plot into the theme, these three will follow a beast that has existed for eons. The characters do not understand why it kills, and they are forced to track the beast, also called the "Spirit eater". This will most likely be the book's title. During their hunt, they will uncover that the beast has existed since long before Meldur (my world) was formed. Aiden leads the other two on a quest to find its' origins, and the characters learn a secret known now only by a handful of powerful figures.

The characters learn the beginning of the universe, but Belvo questions the need of the world's people to know. He knows that anarchy and war will begin, and it will rock all of civilization. The question he asks himself, "What would you do to protect the greatest of all secrets?"

Yes, I have been working on this campaign plot for before even I knew what the DaVinci code was about, so I am confident that plagerism will not be an issue. Also, I believe the beast - or creature is a better word - and his influences in the story will clearly set the book apart. I am also working hard to create a theme or wording of it to pull away from that. How does this sound?

"Some secrets are worth more than a few lives." - Belvo the Black

This quote is to emphasize the difference between the importance of truth, and my stories portrayal of the truly threatening power of this knowledge. When a viewer or reader thinks back on the heroes of DaVinci code, the heroes or protagonist are seekers of truth. My approach I hope shows differently, as the hero is actually trying to prevent the worlds from knowing this secret. My ending is actually where I began with the story, with hopefully a climactic ending hinged upon these two beliefs. One character - most likely Aiden - believing it is the worlds' right to know, and the other - Belvo the Black - truly believing its threat. In the end, I hope I have a story that focuses more on the difference of these two protagonists and leave with a shocking ending.

This is so far what I have written from the 7th chapter, where Belvo the Black is first introduced. Please everyone, send me feedback on what you think. Also, I'd love to have some critizism on this. No better way to learn from your mistakes.

BLACK




The door shattered with one loud, pounding thrust. Its splintered debris of oak hurled into the small study, smashing into glass vials and thick, leather bound writings. The apprentice wet himself. He hurriedly collapsed behind the edge of a bookcase. His fear was overwhelming, and oblivious to him, this intruder understood that weakness. After nearly a moment or two of silence, the apprentice mustered enough courage to peer slowly around his wooden shield. Though this chamber was roughly only forty feet each way, its numerous bookcases, tables, and magical relics made it perfect for a game of hide and seek. Except, this was no game. His eyes grew wide from shock as he realized that this enemy was no ogre of immense strength, nothing of that sort. His enemy was a mystery. Shrouded in a midnight cloak and a charcoal leathery robe, his man slowly stepped through the door, and he paused just past the broken hinges. He spoke.

“Why do you run? Aren’t you innocent?”

The dark figure chuckled, and raised his hand outward. At his mental command, a tall bookcase toppled quickly to the floor, leaving a cloud of thick dust. The apprentice coughed, and then wet himself again. The word “Adrenoir” released from the enemy’s pursed lips. This mysterious man was right, why was he hiding? He had instinctively fled, but was this an enemy? His shaking slowed and his mind calmed a bit. If I show myself, perhaps he will have mercy? Or maybe he isn’t even an intruder? He had to make a quick decision. The apprentice shifted to his feet, and his knee slammed into the corner of the oak as he stood.
The cloaked figure immediately turned, stretched his left arm toward the young mage, and lifted it into the air. He was struck with fear, or could he simply not move? Either way, the apprentice followed the command of the man’s hand, and his body flew upward, smashing his jaw into ceiling. The hit was painful, numbingly painful. He opened his eyes and saw that he was lying flat against the stony roof. His head swam and throbbed, and every sensation seemed distant and blurred. His ears rang with the chimes of a hundred bells, all at once. When he looked down, the cloaked man glared at him from below. “Tell me, Baufil,” the mysterious man spoke softly, “Why does someone run if they are innocent and have no enemies?”
Baufil’s eyes began to focus, and he slowed his breath to calm himself. After a slow heave, he exclaimed loudly, “You came into my Master’s tower, without an invitation!” He paced in a circle centered on the apprentice, stepping over each broken piece of wood and fallen book. At the end of each step, the intruder whispered a low syllable, sending bushels of books spiraling and landing hard into a pile underneath the young wizard. As he made two circles, the pile eventually grew, until the very tip was only three inches from Baufil’s nose. He stopped and reached into a small, cloth pouch on his belt. His hand came out filled with tiny flecks of white powder, and he began sprinkling the contents of the bag over the pile.
“Wha…What are you doing to me?!” Baufil screamed aloud. He tugged and pulled, but his body would not come free from the cold stone. His heart raced as he imagined his excruciating death. The mysterious man stepped with a swagger that very few possess. “All I need is a name,” he paused for a moment. “Feliro contemptuis,” he ended those soft words with a final splash of powder, and a magnificent, hungry flame erupted. It quickly wrapped itself around each binding and text, and filled the air with heat. The flames flickered all around Baufil, and he could feel the intense burn. He shrieked, “Please, Please! I beg of you!”
The shrouded man lifted his voice, “Name the runaway servant of Ranen! I will not ask again, I wouldn’t care if you roasted.” The frightened apprentice screamed and flinched for a few more moments, until his voice cracked with a discernible word, “Grim!” The man peered up, “Grim who?!”

I have no time to write anymore of the story. Let me know what you think about it.

[SJAB]

As with all my critiques you can ignore all of it, it's just my opnion.

The door shattered with one loud, pounding thrust.

This reads as if the door was thrusting. Suggest you re-write it

Its splintered debris of oak hurled into the small study, smashing into glass vials and thick, leather bound writings.

Don't need the "its" at the beginning, as it is plain you are still talking about the door.

The apprentice wet himself. He hurriedly collapsed behind the edge of a bookcase. His fear was overwhelming, and oblivious to him, this intruder understood that weakness

Personally I would use the words "soiled himself" rather than wet himself. Also if you say soiled himself in fear, you have no need for the next sentence.


.

After nearly a moment or two of silence, the apprentice mustered enough courage to peer slowly around his wooden shield. Though this chamber was roughly only forty feet each way, its numerous bookcases, tables, and magical relics made it perfect for a game of hide and seek. Except, this was no game. His eyes grew wide from shock as he realized that this enemy was no ogre of immense strength, nothing of that sort. His enemy was a mystery. Shrouded in a midnight cloak and a charcoal leathery robe, his man slowly stepped through the door, and he paused just past the broken hinges. He spoke.

Why call the man "his enemy" We don'tknow that he is the apprentices enemy, maybe use the word intruder, it fits better for me.

The dark figure chuckled, and raised his hand outward. At his mental command, a tall bookcase toppled quickly to the floor, leaving a cloud of thick dust. The apprentice coughed, and then wet himself again.

Sorry, but, mentioning him "wetting" again makes him sound as if he has a weak pelvic floor. I would re-write it, maybe saying he felt his bladder muscles weaken again...

The word “Adrenoir” released from the enemy’s pursed lips

Released sounds clumsy, suggest "fell".

This mysterious man was right, why was he hiding? He had instinctively fled, but was this an enemy?

Bit too many "his and he" maybe give the appentice a name or call him "the weak bladdered youth", but what I mean give the reader some way of identifying the lad rather than he, as it is starting to get confused with the intruder, who again does not yet have a name the reader can identify with.

His shaking slowed and his mind calmed a bit. If I show myself, perhaps he will have mercy? Or maybe he isn’t even an intruder? He had to make a quick decision. The apprentice shifted to his feet, and his knee slammed into the corner of the oak as he stood.

You mention his knee slamming into the oak, the oak what, table, bookcase? It is not clear and also he has no reaction to hitting his kneee. I know I would.

The cloaked figure immediately turned, stretched his left arm toward the young mage, and lifted it into the air. He was struck with fear, or could he simply not move?

I would lose the "immediately" don't think it is needed. The second sentence is about the youth, yes, but coming after the first, which is dealing with the intruder, it sounds as if you are talking about him.

Either way, the apprentice followed the

command of the man’s hand, and his body flew upward, smashing his jaw into ceiling.

The flow does not work here, I would suggest the folllowing.

The appentice was struck with fear. His body stiffened and flew upwards, following the movement of the man's hand

The hit was painful, numbingly painful. He opened his eyes and saw that he was lying flat against the stony roof. His head swam and throbbed, and every sensation seemed distant and blurred. His ears rang with the chimes of a hundred bells, all at once. When he looked down, the cloaked man glared at him from below. “Tell me, Baufil,” the mysterious man spoke softly, “Why does someone run if they are innocent and have no enemies?”

You are showing us with a list what was happening to the youth, not having him react to what was happening to him. Does that make sense.

Baufil’s eyes began to focus, and he slowed his breath to calm himself. After a slow heave, he exclaimed loudly,

Both sentences here say the same thing more or less suggest losing one.

“You came into my Master’s tower, without an invitation!” He paced in a circle centered on the apprentice, stepping over each broken piece of wood and fallen book.

You need a paragraph break after the speech as it is not the appentice walking in a circle is it?

At the end of each step, the intruder whispered a low syllable, sending bushels of books spiraling and landing hard into a pile underneath the young wizard. As he made two circles, the pile eventually grew, until the very tip was only three inches from Baufil’s nose. He stopped and reached into a small, cloth pouch on his belt. His hand came out filled with tiny flecks of white powder, and he began sprinkling the contents of the bag over the pile.

Again the confusion between He, Baufil and He the intruder, you need to give him a "name Baufil can mentally call him, black cloak or big nose, just a reference for the reader.

“Wha…What are you doing to me?!” Baufil screamed aloud. He tugged and pulled, but his body would not come free from the cold stone. His heart raced as he imagined his excruciating death. The mysterious man stepped with a swagger that very few possess.

paragraph break here, another character is speaking.

“All I need is a name,” he paused for a moment. “Feliro contemptuis,” he ended those soft words with a final splash of powder, and a magnificent, hungry flame erupted. It quickly wrapped itself around each binding and text, and filled the air with heat.

Again a paragraph break needed

[cyphus4]

Thanks for the critique. I see every issue you are showing, and I will work to correct it.