CommodoreFluffy
2007-10-24, 10:45 PM
This is for stories to have CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, I have one to start us off:
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Chapter 1
In the town of Raven’s Hall, an old empire fort, a man in a dark green cloak stands in the pouring rain, on top of the collecting mud. He is nearing the middle of his life, but retained the strength on one much younger than himself. Streald, the hunter was about to close up shop and return home, glancing about for possible customers. Streald, looked down both alleys, “empty, and wet”, spitting out the latter with an obvious disgust, looked up and cursed the weather. The rain drove away customers, and made the furs rot faster. His hands uninterestedly began to fold down the wooden stand. Behind the financial effect, and the effect on his bowstring, of the weather, he enjoyed the rain, it calmed him. Under the incessant tapping of the rain, came the soft pitter patter of feet. Streald’s eyes flashed towards the noise, as his hands halted its action. The man didn’t look like one of the noble’s slaves, nor did he look like a commoner. “Not a customer then” Streald grimly commented to himself, and his hands continued their task. “Wait!” the man shouted as Streald began to wheel the cart to its niche in the walls. “Streald! The hunter?” the man panted, “That, I am” replied Streald, “What do you want? Furs or meat?”
“Your services”
“What!”
“Animals cannot be your only prey”
***
Stay tuned for the next installment
***
Chapter 1
In the town of Raven’s Hall, an old empire fort, a man in a dark green cloak stands in the pouring rain, on top of the collecting mud. He is nearing the middle of his life, but retained the strength on one much younger than himself. Streald, the hunter was about to close up shop and return home, glancing about for possible customers. Streald, looked down both alleys, “empty, and wet”, spitting out the latter with an obvious disgust, looked up and cursed the weather. The rain drove away customers, and made the furs rot faster. His hands uninterestedly began to fold down the wooden stand. Behind the financial effect, and the effect on his bowstring, of the weather, he enjoyed the rain, it calmed him. Under the incessant tapping of the rain, came the soft pitter patter of feet. Streald’s eyes flashed towards the noise, as his hands halted its action. The man didn’t look like one of the noble’s slaves, nor did he look like a commoner. “Not a customer then” Streald grimly commented to himself, and his hands continued their task. “Wait!” the man shouted as Streald began to wheel the cart to its niche in the walls. “Streald! The hunter?” the man panted, “That, I am” replied Streald, “What do you want? Furs or meat?”
“Your services”
“What!”
“Animals cannot be your only prey”
***
Stay tuned for the next installment