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The Scars of Tascera Feedback Thread.


Shuuda
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Well, since this was my suggestion, it would be foolish of me not to post a feedback thread for my fiction works. So, introducing...

The Scars of Tascera Feedback Thread.

First of all, here is the link to the story: http://serenesforest.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=5564

Feel free to post any comments, reviews or other discussion regarding tSoT:tSE in this thread. I am also willing to answer any questions you may have about the story, including such things like world, character and other lore related things.

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Tbh, I read only part of your story. But I like reading and its gonna take me quite a bit to read this long story of yours. But to begin, I do like the characters and the way you write. You remind me of...me. ^^

Anyway, keep up the good work, I shall be adding more feedback as soon as I read the whole thing.

Edit--And woot, that makes me 1st ever feedbacker. ^^

Edited by Django
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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 1 month later...

There are a couple of spelling errors but that has nothing to do with anything. Aaanyway, good chapter. The only problem is, I'm having a little trouble imagining where they are. Perhaps you could add a little more description of the town or something?

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Wow. I'll admit something: I haven't even read it and it looks good. I won't be doing homework for a while

edit: its confusing, and there's waaaaaaaayy too much description. Description is good, yes, but too much is bad!

Edited by Captain Gordin
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Update (09/01/09): Chapter numbers have been changed; the prologue is now chapter one and such. Chapter two and three have had some edits.

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Comments/suggestions in bold

Chapter Eight: Hawk and Black Horse.

In a small dark room, a man found himself tied to a chair. He was thin, with dark skin and black hair that had two tails running in front of his shoulders. He did not struggle, but he stayed wide awake. He could hear footsteps approaching. A door opened and light shone on his face.

--Pigtails would of sounded better.

“You doing alright?” A woman's voice asked.

“What do you think.” His voice was quiet and worried. The door shut again and the woman came closer, he could not see her face. “What is it you want?” The man shuffled around, trying to move his arms.

“What do you think?”

“I don't want anything from you... Jaeri, wasn't it?” The woman put her face point blank of his own. He could not keep his eye's off her bandaged mug. “What?!” Elissa grunted.

“It's... just you face, it's...” before he could finish, Elissa backed up and punched him across the face, sending his spit to the other side of the room.

your

“Oh, I'm sorry if I hit you, I have trouble seeing.” Elissa scoffed. She took out a small lump of bread out of her pocket and shoved it into Jaeri's mouth. “I'll be back later, if your lucky I might not accidentally hit you again.” She left the room, which was infact an old shack in a forest which no path lead to. It was a cool morning, and the air was damp. After a short walked, she found herself on the edge of the woods. There were many fields of churned mud, and in the distance was a camp of tents.

in fact walk

The peasants were lined up in a disorderly cue to get their small rashons for the day. Markus was stood on the grass next to his tent wearing his black top, choking down a slice of solid bread. When Dyarl walked nearby, he called out to him.

Rations Markus was stood? or Marcus stood

“Soooo any word on whether it's the right time to talk to them yet?”

“Please, they're going through a time of hardship and...” --I corrected it for ya.

“And we're not?!” Markus leaped up. “I swear that we are not staying here much longer!”

I see you use ?! Alot together. Why not just ? or the !

“It's not so bad here.” Dyarl smiled, but it only increased Markus' frown.

“Not so bad! Let me tell you just three of the things that bad about this place: Firstly, wolves travel near here at night. Secondly, the farmers won't stop giving me an earful over being here. And finally, the mud is most dreadful here after last nights rain. Oh, and rats! Always rats!”

---that are bad First, or first and foremost sounds better over can be replaced with for

night's

“Well, atleast we found somewhere to stay, look on the bright side.” Dyarl said.

at least

“Oh yes! The bright side that is of course being surrounded by empty fields!” Markus sighed and took another bite of his breakfast.

“Well, St Jistine's Mount is not too far away. Perhaps we could make a short trip to see what the situation is like.”

“We? I'm sorry, but if I am to go, I wish to take some others with me instead of you.” Markus smirked when he noticed how surprised Dyarl was.

“Who do you have in mind?” He asked, raising his eyebrow. Markus glanced around the camp, until some familiar figures came into his line of sight.

“Aha! Gerald and that woman: two lovely faces to liven the day up.”

“Why them... and Mrs Henrietta has a name.” Dyarl flustered, with a hint of red on his cheeks. Markus came up to him and firmly patted Dyarl's shoulder.

Why them?

“Funny, you always make a joke about me, but it would seem you're the lecherous one.” He chuckled as he watched Dyarl blush deepen. Markus left him to calm down, and gave his offer to Gerald and Henrietta.

“How would two like to accompany me to the capital?”

“Oh really Your Highness! Yes please!” Henrietta burst out. “I-I-I've just got to visit their market! It's really great! I hope I get a copy of The Encyclopaedia of Ceran History: Volumn Three.” volume

“Don't you already have that?”Gerald scratched his head and counted with his other hand.

“No no, I've only got first two volumes and Arhen Grimfold's Third Era of Cera.”

“I doesn't matter what you have, I wish to hurry.” Markus tapped his foot while he wait for their response. Gerald was stuff thinking to himself, stumbling around.

waited That did not make sense

“What about Jason, isn't he coming?” Henrietta asked, she had caught Dyarl in the corner of her eye, walking away around a tent.

“He's... got things to do here. So, will you be joining me? I'll be leaving shortly.” Markus' tapping hastened. Henrietta nodded and took her husband back into their tent, appearing intimidated by Markus' expressions. When Markus turned around, he saw that his mother was brooding in wait. “Mother, is there a problem?”

“I believe that is what I should be asking. If you are going to the Mount, you should have asked me to join you, I could speak with the councillors for you.” Her answer puzzled Markus, who took his time before speaking again.

councellers

“Please mother, I wouldn't want to put you in harms way.” He spoke with a much calmer tone than usual.

“Forgive me, but I shall not accept any other option.” She could still notice the confusion. “My son, you are not the only one who wishes to have their home back. Leadership is a terrible burden, especially in these times.” She tried to reassure him with a warm smile, but Markus was preoccupied with her words.

“Very well. But I cannot bring Jason; after all, someone has to keep the people safe from those Northerners.” He laughed.

“I was hoping you might do the honour of protecting me, but I'll be sure to try and blend in.” She laughed lightly with him before leaving to change dress.

honor

Markus guided his eye's around the camp, paying close attention in between the tents. He caught Elissa sneaking near the east side. They made eye contact but nothing more before she vanished into a green tent. You dont need the ' there, its just eyes

He continued looking around, seeing the people in their tatty clothes, feasting on whatever food they had. He then looked down his own clothes, scrubbing out the dirt and fiddling with the small holes at the seams. Cautiously avoiding detection, he moved back to his own tent. Inside a sack were what was left of his clothes: the white coat, a second shirt hat seemed to atleast (space it out) smell better than the one he wore and two pairs of trousers. After a quick change he stepped outside again, wearing a different set of clothes, trying to hide whatever holes there were with his coat. He met with the rest of the group, who waited nearby with backpacks and coats.

Dyarl came out of his tent just in time to see Markus' and Lirina leave with the others. He was prepared to chase after them when he caught another figure in the corner of his eye; Elissa was skulking around. He slipped inbetween a pair of tents to intercept her. When he rushed out in front of her, Elissa stepped back to head in the opposite direction; but it was too late.

in between

“And where have you been Miss Elissa?” He crossed his arms and sighed. You need to add an , after been

“Ah, Markus wanted me to do look out duty for the night,” she yawned, trying to make it as convincing as possible. “I was just heading for some sleep.” heading to get some sleep

“Your guile is second to none Miss Elissa.” He raised his eye brow and lent forward, but Elissa merely giggled. again, an , is necessary when someone is referring to someone, so the correct sentence would be with the ,

“Why, Jason, you're making me sound like a rotten egg!”

“And why should you be that lucky?” Dyarl clenched his fist at her. “You disappeared after the battle, and now to turn up with blood on your clothes.” He pointed to her skirt where small splatters of blood and sweat had set in.

“Oh that! Well, I was hungry so I found a few bandits for a meal. The blood gets places.” She tried to walk away, but Dyarl persisted with his chastising.

“I'm afraid that such attitude will not be tolerated. You have yet to even explain what you are doing here and...”

“I told you,” Elissa swung back round “I'm helping Markus.”

“Someone of your nature is unfit to train His Majesty in fighting.”

“His Majesty huh?...and I suppose the one who is fit to teach him would be you?” They stared each other down, their muscles tensed up. “Since your feelings are as clear, there is only one way to solve our differences: we shall fight, first to drop their sword loses. The winner will be the one to teach His Majesty how to fight.”

“Since you have proposed the challenge, I shall accept. There is (Insert still here) to an hour of preparation before we meet at say... that ploughed (plowed) field.” He pointed to the north. They both agreed and left in the opposite direction from each other.

Neither of them had realised (realized) that Mahlo had been eavesdropping on them. He stepped out from between the tents, struggling to keep his footing in the mud. He slipped and fell towards the ground with a shriek, but something had caught his arm before his face reached the mud.

“Looks like she's not the only one who can disappear.” Shinzou pulled him up and continued to speak. “Where the heck did you go? You got a spell that makes you unseeable or what?” what? Invisible is what you want

“I just wanted to look around on my own.” Mahlo forced a smile.

“I guess that's what you came for. But this doesn't have anything with what that man said does it? He must have a yiezr's parse for a mouth to speak to you like that.”

“Please Shinzou, it's nothing like that. I was just a bit shaken by that spell, and you were injured so I didn't want to be a bother.” Mahlo back away, chuckling to reassure Shinzou.

“Well, didn't sound like what he was saying was friendly banter. I ain't having that! If I ever see him again, I'll make him sorry for ever living.” He gripped his blade and swung it in the air.

“Please, spilling blood just on my account? What would Mezu say?”

“Don't try that, you know Mezu would cry if see saw someone putting you down!” Shinzou grabbed him by the collar. “Do you I inserted it for ya even know how much she thinks about you?!”

“I know... but she's just a girl, she'll grow up.”

“And what, find nobody better?”

“I'm flattered, but it's a personal problem. You two would not need to worry.” Mahlo still had a smile plastered to his face. Shinzou let him down gently before limping off, kicking up the mud and pouting.

“First that damn woman won't stop bugging me and now this!”

In the field of wet mud, Dyarl and Elissa met up again. Dyarl carried two swords with him, one of which he handed over to his confident opponent.

“I see you've been relaxed, you're not even wearing protection.” He said. Elissa clutched the sword he gave her. They both stood silently, pointing their swords with both hands. Elissa moved first; she sloshed through the mud to get away. She looked back to find Dyarl still stood in the same spot: so she came to a halt. Dyarl began to walk towards her, pressing his feet hard into the ground. As he closed on her, Elissa scooped up balls of mud and threw them at his face; laughing as Dyarl wiped them away. Their blades finally met when Dyarl's slash was blocked; but the force of his swing pushed her back, slipping on the mud. Elissa fell to the ground, but rolled away before her neck was at blade point. A moment she had gotten up, another attack came at her. She parried and stepped back, panting. With a desperate lunge, Elissa thrust her sword at his neck. Dyarl sidestepped her attack and grab a hold of her wrist, trying to squeeze the sword out of her hand. Elissa pulled hard, unable to free herself.

“Just drop your sword, you'd be dead in a real fight.” Dyarl sighed, but Elissa still resisted. He let go of her wrist, pushing her to the ground in the process. Once she had stood up, their blades collided again; both pushed as their feet slid in the mud. They clashed several times before Dyarl slipped onto his kneels. Elissa readied to point her sword at his neck, but was tripped up when Dyarl grabbed her leg. He stood back up and trap her sword under his foot. Elissa looked up to meet the point of his sword in front of her.

“Fine fine I give up!” She moaned as her hand let go of the sword. “Goodness sake!”

“You played pretty foul and still lost, I guess that settles the matter.” Dyarl offered her a hand getting up. Elissa had got up and began wiping the mud off her clothes.

“Pfft, what's foul play?” She grinned.

“I choose chose this place to fight because I knew you would pull a trick. Seeing that I was not mistaken only proves my skills over yours.” Dyarl waved her goodbye as he walked away. “I hope that you did not hit your head too hard, I wouldn't want you to forget your bet.”

“Yeah yeah! You can teach him whatever you want!” She sat back down, muttering under her breath “Not like that's anything to do with me.” She chuckled. A drop of rain knocked her on the head, grey gray clouds were gathering in the sky.

Markus stopped on the hilltop. In the far distance he could see a large city, built in rings around a tall green hill.

“My goodness! There it is!” Henrietta leaped up behind him and pointed. Gerald and Lirina were much more relaxed, welcoming the chance to rest.

“So Mister Markus, how much longer?” Gerald asked.

“About an hour or so to...” Markus was interrupted when four men came passed. They were dressed in light armour Tis ok but armor is the right term in the USA with backpacks of travelling one L only equipment. “Hey! You're scouts aren't you?” Markus called out to them.

“We've no time to speak; and urgent matter needs our attention.”

“What's going on?” Gerald leant leaned on Markus' shoulder, without noticing his annoyance.

“An important foreign ambassador was en route to the Mount, and has not shown up. His guard was found dead; stabbed in the back.” Once the man had explained, everyone looked shocked.

“I'm guessing that the council is in an uproar over this.” Markus scratched his head.

“If that's true, we might have a hard time trying to speak with them.” Lirina told him, remaining stern. Markus turned to her and replied.

“But heading back now would be a wasted effort.” Markus remarked. The scouts left them, taking a near side road towards the coast, only Gerald and Henrietta seemed to notice. “So we shall press on.”

“Very well, but please allow me to decide on our actions once we arrive.” Lirina turned around to tell the others, only to find they had already gone ahead. She was dumbfounded, but then quietly followed behind. Gerald and Henrietta were chattering merrily, lightly pushing at one another and laughing. Markus and Lirina walked silently, listening to (insert the here) happy couple.

“Is there a problem, mother?” Markus' looked at her sorrow filled face.

“It's nothing dear, I was just thinking.” She changed her face into a soft smile.

“About father?”

“Well, more than just that... he's still alive, the King.” Her eyes gazed into the sky, longingly. Markus turned away to hide his suspecting expression.

“Of course he is, no matter what happens.” He smiled, but it only made Lirina more uneasy.

Once they reached the city gates, a pair of guards approached them.

“Due to recent events you will be required to hand over all arms to us.” They both extended their hands out to collect. Markus took a small dagger from his belt and gave to the guards; Henrietta and Gerald opened up their coats, their bags and pulled their pockets out, showing the guards they possessed no weapons. “Very well, you may move on. Have a nice day.” They both stepped back and saluted.

The city was crammed with activity in every corner. The main street circling the city was full of market stalls, selling fruit, fish, wines and exotic trinkets from everywhere. People flocked for bartering and auctions: screaming, cheering, yelling and shoving.

“Markus and I will head towards the council manner district, you two can look around for a while and do as you please.” Lirina stood in the centre center of the group as she commanded them. “We will meet up at this gate in say... four or five hours.”

“Yes Your Highness!” Henrietta exploded into joy, grabbing Gerald's arm and dragging away. “Come on dear, we've got to hurry before the best buys go.” Gerald's attempts to resist were futile. She started off a stall which had no crowd; the table was full of hand made wooden ornaments. After a short glance at each, Henrietta found one that tugged her eyes: a sitting dog with it's tongue sticking out.

“Oh much for that one?” She asked the shopkeeper who hid his eyes behind a large hat. She pulled out a small sack from the side of her backpack.

“Erm, dear, I thought you wanted to buy...” Gerald tugged on her arm, but she did not notice.

“Fifty five orihal.” The shopkeeper interrupted, making sure his customer listened to no one else.

“For that! Blind robbery!” Gerald shouted.

“These are finest around, imported all the way from the north of Linisiu.” The shopkeeper picked up the dog and turned it upside down “You can see fine craftsmanship and this little mark here is the signature of Ceite Zileca, he's famous you know.” Henrietta raised her eye brow and paused for a moment.

“But Zileca is a charcoal artist. Five orihal!” She smiled, but despite her non threatening look the shopkeeper back away and drop the statue; breaking it on the ground. “Oh, it's broken!” She walked away, and after a shake of his fist, Gerald left the shopkeeper in a state.

After a short walk passed the stalls of bread and oddly shaped fruit, they came out an outdoor book shop. The air was full of dust and the smell of decay. Henrietta started lifting books from their piles and reading the titles.

Advanced Study of Constructs... Saints of the Second Era... Laphal's Study of Tasceran Caverns... ” She flicked through the pages of each. “My good, this place is a mountain of treasure.”

“Pick two!” Gerald put his foot down. Henrietta sighed, placing the first two books back. The shopkeeper of this stall was relaxing behind a tower of books.

“Excuse me their Sir,” Henrietta approached him, holding the last book against her chest. “you wouldn't happened to have The Encyclopaedia of Ceran History: Volumn Volume Three?”

“Aww... I've got it somewhere.” The tall, greying graying man got up off from or got off his chair and started checking the books surrounding him. “This might take a while, Miss.”

“Well I won't be waiting here. Come on dear, we can come back later. I want to see some sights.” Gerald said, waving the old dust away.

“You can go alone, I'll stay here.” She grinned, but Gerald just looked around at the landscape of pages, confused by her enjoyment. He back away slowly. Henrietta helped the man with the search for the lost book.

“Aha! It's here!” The man pulled it out from a underneath a large pile that collapsed on top of him.

“A-a-are you...” Henrietta's face was red with laughter. They both started cleaning up the mess when two men, wearing brown leather and chainmail came into the shop.

“How might I help you two.” He was intimidated by their tough stature.

“Mister Galvin, the Department of Funding has sent us here because the payment of your taxes is long overdue now. I believe you know the rules: pay up or we have no choice but to seize your property.”

“But but I paid them before harvest season! You can't do this, I-I-I want to see some identification!” Galvin trembled, waggling his finger at them two men. The pair drew out scrolls from their belt pockets, and held them in Galvin's face.

“Stamped orders from both the Department and the Arms.” They grabbed Galvin by his arms and dragged him out of the stall. “You and your friend will have to wait 'till we've got what we came for.” They pushed him away, bringing him to his knees.

“I'm not going anywhere!” Henrietta stood firm when they soon approached her, placing her backpack on the floor. The left man reached for her arm, but she resisted with a push back.

“Listen Miss, if you don't step out we have orders to use force.” The other man gripped the sword on his back; however, she still refused to move. The man drew his sword and placed against Henrietta's neck. She ducked and sidestepped away, tripping the swordsman up with a swing of her leg. Before he could even hit the floor, Henrietta leaped towards him and chopped his wrist; sending the sword flying across the stall.

The second man drew his sword and slashed at her. Each furious attack was dodged, but Henrietta soon found her self back up against the table. The man grabbed her by the throat and lifted off her feet.

“Now then Miss, are you going to come along quietl...” He shrieked when Henrietta dug her nails into his naked hand; drawing trickles of blood. She pried herself free, gasping for air. The attacker shook his bleeding left hand and swung his blade again. Henrietta span around, collecting a book off the table and blocked his sword, which had now wedged itself in the book. As the man struggled to unlodge dislodged his weapon, Henrietta lent forward and struck his chest flat with her palm.

Both of the men had now been bested, though they did not surrender. They launched their next attack together. Though their blows still could not connect, they surely had her on the ropes. She panted and stumbled. Henrietta flung her white coat and threw it at the pair. The distraction gave her time to leave the stall into the open street, where people stood far back and watched: some cheering, some panicking. The men charged again, thrusting their swords; but she dodged still, with back flips, twists and twirls. A small troop of armoured guards rushed to the scene.

“Halt!” One shouted. They drew their swords and spears to threaten the trouble-makers, who stopped their battle. One of the two swordsmen sheathed his blade.

“Guards! This woman is defying our legal orders, take her away!” He whipped out his form and showed it to the guard captain.

“We'll have to ask all of you to come with us.” The guards surrounded them, closing in around them. The two men came peacefully, bowing in respect of the law. Henrietta rushed around, trying to escape; but their was no opening. She relaxed and let a pair of guards bind her hands, she sighed. The crowd broke away, except for the odd strangler who gawked at the events. Galvin had pulled himself off the floor just in time to testify.

“Please guards, this is all my fault, really. These men were being very forceful...” his voice was weak, and his fingers twiddled.

“Perhaps you should come with us to the office as well.” The guard responded. The whole group stepped down the street.

The road Markus and Lirina travelled slopped up the hill, the buildings appeared to get grander with each pass. The finest guards patrolled the streets, their movement unnerved the pair.

“I believe that's their meeting place.” Lirina pointed to a large stone building. “It doesn't seem busy now.” They both came before the door guards, who stared at them though their helmets.

“I am Prince Markus of Searan, I wish to enter.” The guards looked at each other. “Is there are problem?”

“You don't look like a prince.” They chuckled. Makus looked down on his clothes.

“It's nothing to worry about dear. I will be able handle this by myself. You would do well to buy some clean clothes.” She laughed when Markus' face scrunched up. “Oh don't worry dear! Go and enjoy your day, my treat.” She handed Markus a small bag of coins and sent him on his way. Lirina then addressed the guards.

“You will allow me to meet with the Council.” She bowed. The guards were about to respond when she took off a pendant which was hidden under her clothes. It too the shape of a small orb covered with gold and ebony.

“I am Lirina Horuston, Queen of Searan and Lady of Pelius. I believe this should suffice as proof of my heritage.” She handed the pendant over for inspection. After their examination of her heirloom, they handed it back and opened the two wooden doors.

“Right this way Milady.” The halls were covered with dark polished wood and red velvet carpets. They directed her to a row of chairs that sat outside another pair of doors. “You will have to wait there until someone else comes to assist you, I shall alert the office immediately.”

“Thank you.” Lirina sat in the middle of five chairs. The two guards left in opposite directions. Lirina rested back for a while before noticing someone else was nearby. Ursula stared at her from a distance, trying not to be seen. “There's no need to hide. This is the day you've been waiting for all your life isn't it?”

“Hmph, you took the words right out of my mouth.” Ursula approached and down a chair away from Lirina. “I'm surprised you didn't bring anyone else with you. I mean, I can understand why you wouldn't want to bring that half-wit you call a son, but surely you didn't intend to just walk in here and talk us over.” She sighed mockingly. “But I guess it's natural for someone like you to think that way.” Lirina simply looked back and smiled.

“That's nice, but you'll find that no everybody have such spiteful minds.” Her voice was calm.

“With that attitude you're just wasting time here.” Ursula corrected her glasses, hiding her eye's behind the reflection of light.

“Come now, you can tell me what your real reason for this is.” When Lirina extended her hand in welcome, Ursula got up and stormed away. “That's a shame, I was hoping you'd have kept me company for longer. Shall I tell Dyarl you said hello?” Ursual turned on her heel.

“No you shall not! Now if you don't mind, some of us do important work around here.”

“How nice, you sure have come along way.” Lirina widened her smile, sending Ursula away flustered.

Down the slopping road, Markus meet a familiar person. Gerald walked up and patted him on the shoulder.

“What a surprise, I thought you were busy.”

“They wouldn't let me in.” Markus clenched his jaw.

“Why... I couldn't imagine why.” Gerald chuckled as he inspected Markus' rags.

“YES! I'm going to get it sorted! Don't you have a wife half your age to tend to!” Markus shouted, but Gerald laughed hearty.

“Oh, she'll be fine.” Gerald patted Markus' shoulder a few more time, almost forcing him to his knees. “I'm sorry, I guess being kicked out bothered that much huh?”

“Not really, I was never really taught about politics... but that's not the point!” Markus strolled down the street with Gerald, keeping a look out for any interesting shops as they entered the commercial district. Each stall sold everything from everywhere. “Jeez, no where else in the world does so much junk come together in one place.” He wandered to a stall at random, and started eyeing items. “Who would buy things like this?” he picked up a lute from the table with both hands. The wood was smooth, but covered with dust.

“A fine looking instrument that is.”Gerald look over Markus' shoulder to admire the lute's artistic craftsmanship. “I've got an uncle who can play one of those.”

“That sounds wonderful, maybe I should buy this then.” Markus grinned, but Gerald was confused, scratching his head as he wondered whether Markus had meant it. “No...” Markus put the lute down, waking up the tired old lady who owned the shop.

“What'd you want you brutish knuckle heads?!” She shook her fist at the pair.

“Nothing dear, you just go back to keep to keeping a vigilant eye on things.” Markus sniggered. snickered

“Oh I am! Don't you worry about that!” The woman leant leaned back on her chair and shut her eyes. Markus rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Maybe we should just leave her alone.” Said Gerald. Markus walked away from the shop, putting his hands into the pockets of his coat. As the pair continued forward, the crowds of people became larger, and ruder: bumping together and shoving their way past each other.

“Did you see what happened near 90b...” gossip spread among the people like wildfire, it filled the air and choked Markus and Gerald. When they could take it no more, they started asking around for what the talk was about.

“Oh, something happened at the bookstore at 90b, I hear some girl had a fight with a pair of tax-collectors. I think the guards took them away.” A washer woman told Gerald. His face became red with fury, his teeth scrapped together.

“That woman!” Gerald roared. The woman who told him tried to back away, but Gerald was not finished. “Where would they have taken them?!”

“Oh, I think the it might have been the guard towers at 10b: the closest holding cells from 90b.” She hurried away. Gerald stormed off like a rouge beast, the people who bumped into him were quickly blown aside. Markus followed behind, smiling curiously.

“Surely you don't think she could fight off a bunch of men now do you?”

“Listen lad, I'm going have to go alone. You mind splitting?” Gerald did not wait for an answer, speeding down the road. Markus stood and watched, rain dropped from the sky and hit him on the nose. The droplets became showers, and people began fleeing into buildings and under shelters. Markus' rags became soaked, and water dropped from the end of his hairs. He splashed through the street, astounded by quickly the way had cleared.

Just when he was relaxing, a parasol hit Markus on the back of his head.

“Watch where you're standing boy.” Said the same old woman who he met at the store. She wore a tattered cloak, and her grey hair was tied back.

“Don't you have a shop to keep watch of?” Markus smirked.

“Ho ho, no need to worry about that. By the way, that shop with the red sign over there, you should find some nice new clothes there.” She walked around him and continued on her way, rambling and mumbling.

“Hold on, how did you...” Markus reach his hand out, but the woman had vanished through the downpour and fog. He started snivelling one l and coughing, so on the advice of the old woman he headed to the shop on the right hand side with the red sign, Ilrei's Fine Clothing.

The store was full of clothe racks, a rainbow of styles. Taking his mind of this confusion, Markus browsed through the shop, his own clothes dripped on the wooden floorboards. Markus ended is browsing, not finding a single thing that caught his eye he sighed. An odd looking man in glasses approached him from behind.

“Greetings young Sir, is there anyway I could assist?” He asked. Markus leaped forward with fright. “I am Ilrei, owner of this establishment. I could not help but notice that you are having a hard time picking some new clothes out. Perhaps I could assist you.” Markus stepped away from the rack and shrugged, and Ilrei began inspecting his measurements with a tape. Markus span his arms so that his chest could be measured; while he waited he glanced around the shop, it was empty.

“Bad business as of late?” He remarked. asked/questioned looks better

“Oh no, just the with the rain and people probably getting home before nightime, scared and all that.” Ilrei pulled the tape tightly across Markus' chest, speaking in a light-hearted voice.

“Of what?”

“Oh, it happened last night. I saw it with my own eyes: something was prowling the streets, and under the moonlight it had an eerie white glow. I was quite some distance way, so I couldn't make out it's shape. There wasn't any harm caused by this thing, but with the recent happening at Rephall people are getting very worrisome.” He took a breather while he took the length of Markus' arms. “Tonight is predicted to be a full moon, and some are warning that his might cause this phenomenon to have more dire effects.” Ilrei put the tape measure back into his waistcoat pocket. “all done, now you just wait and I'll pick out your perfect suit.”

Markus decided to take a peek out of the shop. The sky was clearing up and the sun was close to setting, bringing tones of orange that mixed with the dimming blues.

“I suppose we should be hurrying up.”

“What is the problem young Sir, you take those superstitions seriously?” Ilrei chuckled.

“Of course not!” Markus snapped. “But, I have places I need to be. Who could take such things seriously?”

“Heh, the local priests do, that's for sure. They've already sent a message to the temple in Vinceles, no doubt Jalinr and the King will discuss how if it fits into the Nine Illnesses and Blessings and Feltie's predictions...” Ilrei rambled on, even when Markus wandered away. “Aha!” He picked out a light gray top and a pair of black trousers. Ilrei brought the items over to Markus. “These should fit you just right, and they're made from some of the most durable material around.” Markus inspected the clothes, frowning slightly.

“Those look rather plain, don't you think?”

“Oh well, they're designed for travelling in mind. You look as if could use something to last. Atleast be a sport and try them on.”

Markus took the clothes into the nearest changing room and shut the curtain behind him. In the cramped space with a mirror on each wall Markus removed his coat and tattered top. In the mirrors two things caught his eye: the first being the scar he received from Elbenor, the next was a complete mystery. A marking could be seen upon his lower back, a small black rune. Markus attempted to rub it away with his old top, but it did not even smudge.

“Are you done yet young Sir?” Ilrei asked as he stood by the changing room. Markus stepped out, wearing the new trousers and shirt under his coat, carrying the old rags in his arms. “Splendid! Do you wish to buy them?”

“Y-yes... I'll take them. How much?” Markus stammered in confusion, taking out the bag of coins.

“Oh now lets see.” Ilrei pulls out a small list from his waistcoat pocket. “Together the cost should be seventy five orihal.” Markus counted in tens as he collected the money needed. Ilrei cupped his hands like a beggar and Markus dropped the money in: seven round brass coins and one smaller copper. Ilrei grinned. “A fine trip on the mountain I see.”

Markus left the shop without so much as a goodbye. He searched for any path that lead up the hill, but soon found himself being followed; the sound of footsteps and heavy breathing was never far behind. Markus slipped into an alley and waited to ambush his stalker. As the footsteps reached a crescendo Markus emerged from the shadows to surprise them, but he found himself on the end of a fist to the face.

“Oh, it was just you.” A woman laughed and panted at the sight of Markus falling to the ground. When he looked up he saw the one-eyed Northerner, the left half of her body was covered in mud.

“What happened to you? And what are you doing here?”

“Oh this? It's was nothing. I came here as fast I could 'cause I needed to speak to you.” She helped Markus on to his feet. “It's kinda important: I need to know what you me to do with... you know.” Markus turned his head, confirming that they were alone.

“I would of hoped you could have used your imagination there. It's a trifling matter, don't bother me with any further.” Markus dismissed her, but she would not leave. As Markus raced back up the slope, Elissa followed him in the distance.

Final thoughts: Too many typos and you need to work with your commas a little more and a little sentence phrasing. When someone talks to a person in a story, you have to use the , like this: Hey, Rad, where are we going?" If you write: Hey Rad where are we going, its a run-on sentence, which makes no sense at all.

Just work on your commas and avoid common typos and you are great. ^^

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--Pigtails would of sounded better.

Pigtail does not really suit it. Not the kind of imagery I was looking for.

Centre center

Centre is English. Read here. "British spellings theatre, goitre, litre, lustre, mitre, nitre, reconnoitre, saltpetre, spectre, centre, titre; calibre, fibre, sabre, and sombre all have -er in American spelling."

Realised realized

Both are correct. -ise is English, and -ize is American. Read here. "American spelling accepts only -ize endings in most cases, such as organize, recognize, and realize. British usage accepts both -ize and the more French-looking -ise (organise, recognise, realise)."

“What do you think?”

That was not actually a question really. It was more rhetorical.

councellers

My spell check indicate that councellers is the wrong spelling. As does the Fire Fox spell checker right now. councillors is the right spelling on two different spell checks.

honor

Wrong, Honour is the correct english spelling. (Remember that as an English person, I use "-our" in places where Americans would use "-or". For example. "Favour" "Honour". Technically, Honor and honour are both right... but I'm English, so "honour" is right for me.

heading to get some sleep

It's dialogue, so some dialect. "Heading for some sleep" would be quicker and easier to say.

grey gray

Grey is correct. My spell checks says so; and even wiki calls it grey... but funnily enough, spell checks say that gray is okay as well.

what? Invisible is what you want

The word invisible is not in Shinzou's vocabulary. Dialect again.

ploughed (plowed)

Plowed shows up as incorrect in my spell checks. Once gain, "plough" is English, "plow" is American.

“His Majesty huh?

Again, that was not a question.

There is (Insert still here) to an hour of preparation

Actually, the fault there is that there need to be a "be" in there.

armour Tis ok but armor is the right term in the USA

I'm English; and to be frank, English English should be closer to being right than tainted American English.

leant leaned

Leant is the past tense of lean. So it is correct.

quietl

This is like that because the character speech is being interrupted.

sniggered. snickered

Sniggered is a word. In wikepedia, is states that "snigger" is English, whereas "snicker" is American. See here.

snivelling one l

My spell checks indicate that snivelling is correct, and that sniveling is incorrect. And snivelling with two "L"s

is recognised as a word. But here it says that both snivelling and sniveling are right. This also applies to the word "travelling" and "traveling".

Final thoughts: Too many typos

Half of which are not actually typos; I'm using English English.

Hey, Rad, where are we going?"

I disagree: I can say "Hey Rad, where are we going?" Without having to pause between "hey" and "Rad".

My comment: You should have looked up the whole "-or" "-our" thing beforehand. In my profile it clearly states that I am from England. Thus "-our" is the correct way in my writing. Also remember that dialogue and be subjected to dialect, colloquialisms and aberrations in speech. (You'll notice that in the narration, I do not use works like "can't", I would use cannot instead. But in dialogue, I would use can't.)

For the whole "-or" "-our" thing, here. It even uses honour and armour as examples.

Most words ending in unstressed -our in the United Kingdom (e.g., colour, flavour, honour, armour, rumour) end in -or in the United States (i.e., color, flavor, honor, armor, rumor)

Anything that you have said that is not incorrect or personal preference will be edited.

A nice effort, but you should look things up more in the future.

Edited by Man of the Year!
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Always trying to back out when you're incorrect. Alright, so some words are actually ok, but only because you are writing in English from Britain, still, some were wrong, and your , are necessary despite what you say.

Still, some of your sentences make no sense at all. And you know you are very stubborn. You say that some word is like that simply because speech is interrupted? You could of of written it like quietl... It makes more sense because the word is trialing off.

Anyway, you still make many mistakes, like having to leave two words together, when clearly, they should be apart. I don't have trouble like you when it comes to spelling nor in arranging sentences or phrases. Also, I do not make the mistake of leaving two words together,...ever. That is a no-no.

I'll be looking forward to your next update and see if you make improvements.

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Always trying to back out when you're incorrect.

That is a load of crap coming from you. I am in no way backing out, since I clearly said that some it it was right and that I was editing it. I was merely pointing out that 3/4 of the"typos" you claim I have made were not typos at all. So unless you have a counter argument to honour, armour, centre, snivelling and others being correct; I am in no way backing out.

You say that some word is like that simply because speech is interrupted? You could of of written it like quietl... It makes more sense because the word is trialing off.

What the heck are you on about; I did put an ellipses on the end.

“Now then Miss, are you going to come along quietl...

And like I have said, the chapter is being edited for other the mistakes.

Edited by Man of the Year!
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? !

Then please direct me as to which key on a keyboard gives me the interrobang symbol. If I use only the exclamation mark, people may come under the impression that the sentence was rhetorical; when it is in fact a question. But if I use only the question mark, the people may not get the tone.

Edited by Man of the Year!
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Then please direct me as to which key on a keyboard gives me the interrobang symbol. If I use only the exclamation mark, people may come under the impression that the sentence was rhetorical; when it is in fact a question. But if I use only the question mark, the people may not get the tone.

That is why you have an arsenal of action words at your disposal, to describe tones, actions, etc.

Examples:

"Oogly bear, you come down here this very instant!" shouted Rad.

"Are you coming or not?" Rad asked, annoyingly, his tone of voice high-toned.

You don't need to have ?! at the same time. Use action words instead.

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"Oogly bear, you come down here this very instant!" shouted Rad. "Are you coming or not?" Rad asked, annoyingly, his tone of voice high-toned.

You don't need to have ?! at the same time. Use action words instead.

First of all, I fixed your paragraphing. Why did you put an "asked" in there, when the question mark makes it clear that he is asking a question. And I do believe that I do also use such verbs; but on the subject of adverbs, a wise critic gave me this advice.

--Rampant use of adverbs. There is no need to modify verbs of speaking, such as 'said' or 'told,' which are used for indicating a spoken line, by various adverbs (i.e. words that usually end in /-ly/ in English, like 'angrily,' or 'readily'). The reader will understand the manner in which the line was uttered anyway, without the adverb.

From my reading in "!?", I have found that it is okay to use "!?" in an informal context. In an academic writing, "!?" cannot be used; but apart from in quotes, where you you you see an exclamation mark in an academic text anyway?

Putting both a question mark and an exclamation point together shows a level of surprise combined with emotion that is COMPLETELY unacceptable in academic writing (as are capital letters to show emphasis!).

And unless I am mistaken, fictional writings are not academical writings.

And also this:

An exclamation mark can be used with a question mark, to make a question more forceful.

For example:

"'What did you do that for?!' she said angrily."

I await your rebuke. Oh, and sorry for probably raining on your parade. (Yes, I was able to detect certain tones in your words. "Always trying to back out when you're incorrect." put the nail in the coffin when indicating your intentions.)

Edited by Man of the Year!
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What a load of crap, as you say. So, basically what you are saying is that its okay to insert stuff in writing that is wrong, simply because your writing is not academic. Oh please, who are you trying to kid.

Like I say, you still have much to learn, you just don't want to accept that. And the way I compare you to me, it is you who has much to learn.

You are the one who makes typos and need help with your commas, sentence structuring, word separation and such. The way I see it, I don't need that much help at all, since you are the only one who criticizes me for showing too much love towards characters, or showing too much of them or what they can do before I show the action. I have read many fiction stories and my work goes along that line, so I think I don't need much help there.

Although I have little flaws, I think my writing is pretty stable.

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So, basically what you are saying is that its okay to insert stuff in writing that is wrong, simply because your writing is not academic.

*Points to the wiki quote.* "?!" are acceptable in this context. Notice how I have brought out quotes and even links to back up my points; whereas you have not even shown any prove of research at all. Meaning that so far, my argument has more weight to it.

Fiction and academic texts are two different things, and therefore have some different rules.

Like I say, you still have much to learn, you just don't want to accept that.

If that was true, when why do I bother editing my writing? It is obviously a sign that I accept my mistakes, and so the desire to fix them. Just because I question things it does not mean I do not accept other things. I pointed out that most of the typos you pointed out were in fact correct spelling for British English, thus giving me a ground in which to bring your criticism into question. It is not like what you do (where you ignore my words because I'm a tad harsh) I am fairly arguing a point, which I have some evidence to back up.

You are the one who makes typos and need help with your commas, sentence structuring, word separation and such.

And you are the one who shows and does not tell, or make decent characters. A few typos are hardly the greatest fault in the world, especially compared to your lack of world building and character creating.

I don't need that much help at all

Someone's ego is showing, which is one big hurdle for you. You think too highly of yourself. Your stories have a lot of plot and character issues, not to mention errors in your presentation which you show little care for changing.

Face it, your just butthurt over the fact I am raining on your parade. And I have just realised something:

You cannot be a good writer because you have barely written anything. All your attempts were abandoned without so much as even a single chapter (All of which were also pretty much the same in everyway. Same characters, same word, same attempts to push how great they are)... thus you cannot even call yourself a writer. All you have are wreckages of attempts to write the same thing.

At least I have been able to see a story through this far (with no intention of stopping). Do not even thing of imply yourself to be good, because you've never even gone far enough to see.

Edited by Man of the Year!
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I wish I could point out all the typos you made in your last post (snickers)

But I wont, seeing that you don't listen.

Anyway, yeah, I know and accept that I have not finished anything, and it is because I've been listening to you whine and whine. From now on out, I'm gonna write what I want, without so much caring as to what you want me to write. And we shall see who finishes something first.

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I wish I could point out all the typos you made in your last post (snickers)

That is off-topic. Your post there is obviously designed to make a mockery out another post that defeats yours by mocking it. Why do you not actually try arguing properly?

But I wont, seeing that you don't listen.

If I do not listen to you, when why do respond to you, and claim to have edited my story in response to what you have said. Despite what you may think, I have gone back and started fixing the "atleast" problem, and even put comma's where you suggested. And I give some thanks for that. But some of thing things you pointed out were not typos (like honour), and I was merely pointing that out.

Anyway, yeah, I know and accept that I have not finished anything, and it is because I've been listening to you whine and whine. From now on out, I'm gonna write what I want, without so much caring as to what you want me to write. And we shall see who finishes something first.

That is just a front on which you can ignore the criticism of anyone. And do take into account the length of our stories. Each one of my chapters are over 5,500 words long, and I write at a much more paced speed. Therefore simply finishing first does not make anyone better, since art is not a race.

Edited by Man of the Year!
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That is off-topic. Your post there is obviously designed to make a mockery out another post that defeats yours by mocking it. Why do you not actually try arguing properly?

Mockery? Not so, my intent in correcting your spelling errors both in-story or off-topic is simply because I want to help you improve your way of communicating with me, sometimes I don't get what you say... Being able to communicate your messages across both out of story and forum-like, is a must. It is even a rule: 4. Please type properly so others can understand you, so don't type in text speak. Case closed.

If I do not listen to you, when why do respond to you, and claim to have edited my story in response to what you have said. Despite what you may think, I have gone back and started fixing the "atleast" problem, and even put comma's where you suggested. And I give some thanks for that. But some of thing things you pointed out were not typos (like honour), and I was merely pointing that out.

(Do you mean to say: then why do I respond to you)

And yes, I accepted that some of your words were right, because you write using your English accent, I forgot you were from Europe.

That is just a front on which you can ignore the criticism of anyone. And do take into account the length of our stories. Each one of my chapters are over 5,500 words long, and I write at a much more paced speed. Therefore simply finishing first does not make anyone better, since art is not a race.

I don't ignore criticism. The fact that I write the way I do is simple, that has always been my style, and I don't tend to change the way I talk about characters. Length does not matter...Heck, other writers from the forest tend to post tiny posts, with little information at all other than having quotes of characters speaking...yet these particular stories get more credit than yours and I's simply because friendship counts too much here in the forums. I've seen that those who are closely related here as friends tend to go and say: Great, good job. When in fact, they should be like: What's so fun about quotings with no description at all? There is no world there in those stories.

In my own stories, I paint you a world, I paint you the way the characters are going, what is surrounding them, etc, and yet my stuff is not recognized as being good. Why? Simply because I have little friends here who can actually go in there and say something like: Great job with the world description and stuff...Instead, other stories, which do not show much, get all the praise.

And I said I would simply write my style simply because I wanted to show you that I could end up finishing something, not that we would compete.

Anyway, hope to have made my point across.

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I don't ignore criticism.

For your sake I hope that you are not lying.

The fact that I write the way I do is simple, that has always been my style, and I don't tend to change the way I talk about characters.

And your style is perfect, no doubt about that. No need to even consider trying to improve.

Length does not matter...Heck

That was not my point. My point way that you said "And we shall see who finishes something first." like it meant something, and I was merely stating that if you were to write less than I then of course you would finish soon. But the fact is that you have barely even started.

I've seen that those who are closely related here as friends tend to go and say: Great, good job. When in fact, they should be like: What's so fun about quotings with no description at all? There is no world there in those stories.

I will admit that I do give those people a hard time since they should not inflate people's egos like they do. However, they are not professions in anyway, and cannot be made to critic. I critic because I want to. I made a crapload of mistakes when I started, so I know that most people will do the same.

In my own stories, I paint you a world

When why do you feel the need to always post the map at the beginning? If you do a good job at revealing the world, then you should not have to do that. I have maps drawn, but I do not post them. Just saying.

and yet my stuff is not recognized as being good. Why? Simply because I have little friends here who can actually go in there and say something like: Great job

Yes, that can be the only reason why it is not recognised as good... jeez. Does the idea that you are not as good as you think you are even come into your head? I should know, as it was not until a certain someone I give great thanks to pointed some of the first problems I had before I realised I had made so many mistakes. Thankfully my ego was not so big as to be hurt by the criticism. And recently when I re-read it and compared it to later chapters, I realised how many faults there still were (and this is more than just a few silly typos). I was annoyed, yes; but I am glad I looked back, and even went as far as to edit some of the earlier chapters. On the other hand, it was good to see the improvements I had made when I compared my first ever chapter to the latest, it really felt like I had made some progress.

Your problem is a simple one which I have already pointed out: you go on about being a good writer, claiming that the only reason people do not say your writing is good is because they do not like you. But really, what have you yet written? I do truly hope that when you do finally begin seeing a story through, that you'll look back on where you started and realise that you just were not that good. (And I do not mean that in any insulting way.)

To sum this up: It is not easy to see one's own mistakes.

You should try and write your best even if you were popular. People who do not bother to improve because they know their buddies will them "great" are pathetic human beings. There can be no denial of that.

Edited by Man of the Year!
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