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Sir.
November 25th, 2010, 09:42 PM
The crack of the whip made Alec wince, the harsh angry cries of the slaver behind him, driving his chain of human cattle. It made him feel a heat entirely separate from that of the arid deserts around him, thousands of miles of dust and death in every direction, nothing but scavengers between here and Medora, what possessed anyone to build the road between through this landscape from the sea to the gates of Medora was beyond Alecs understanding.
GET in line you SCUM! the oaths of the slaver drew ever nearer, what was more in defiance of civilisation Alec wondered the fact that the city had been built in the middle of the most inhospitable desert or the fact that travelling there on the road was a train of people treated no better than mules. Feeling the familiar and yet so unwelcome anger rise within him Alec returned his attention to the road beneath him, built of individual stone tiles laid down, not all the way just the last mile, he was virtually at the city now, further back towards the open sea it was little more than a dirt track but closer to the city the king liked it to seem just that little bit more substantial. That was what Alecs brother had told him many years ago at any rate, Alec, much to his dismay saw the hexagon tiles appear remarkably like human hands with their simple patterns, dead mens hands he thought, all the thousands it would have taken to build this road just for the sake of giving a impression.
OFF THE FLOOR you whelp the bitter tones of the driver cut through the air only to be followed by the snap of the whip flicking through the air, Alec knew at this point he had had quite enough. This slaver had been polluting the road with his foul manner, speech and breath for the last two miles, since joining the road at Simone. Meaning that he had probably dragged these souls from the other side of the desert so as to fetch a better price. Stopping in the road Alec rearranged his headscarf, waiting for the loathsome creature to come a little closer, the scarf had after all needed a little rearrangement as far from expelling any traces of sand carried by the whispering winds of the desert it seemed instead to be attracting them. Perhaps he shouldve accepted the nomad as a guide then at least he would have had a companion to tell him not to do this and someone to show him how to tie a headscarf, the memory of the funny little man made him smile. Whats this sir? having forgotten momentarily what he was waiting for the slaver had caught up waiting for inspiration! HA, make room on the road if you wish to stand still the oaf threw his weight at Alec knocking him to one side, booming a large hollow laugh from the depths of his swollen gut before cracking the whip overhead again. He only chuckled when he saw the pale foreigner get up, drawing his weapon from its sheath, he must then want satisfaction, SIR did I offend you so? he hollered yellow teeth glinting in the burning sun mocking in his higher tones Do you wish me provide satisfaction?
He began to wade towards Alec, to fat to walk as an ordinary man would have, Alec didnt move, the slaves had stopped, even if it was because a foreigner was about to join them or die at the hand of their captor a rest is still a rest. Do you then sir? the slavers Bulk towered over Alecs slender frame, Alec returned the glare of the pig, the slaver looking down into this foreigners eyes suddenly felt a fear of something, those eyes were not normal, they were too cold there was something not right their. He leaned back ever so slightly, moved to back away I demand it sir. The calm in the foreigners voice was hypnotic and terrifying this was a man facing a opponent twice or three times his seize and strength and yet no trace of fear was seen on him, the slaver drawn once again into the cool of the mans eyes. He did not notice Alecs wrist flick as a small silver dagger dropped into his foot, nor did he have time to cry out as the other hand whipped forward and gutted him.
But I do not find it, beast in the heat of the desert the stench from the man whilst alive had been poor now with his entrails drawn out across the road the fumes were poisons to the senses. Pausing Alec braved the fumes from the revolting carcass so as to wipe the blade clean on the mans shirt; or at least cleanish, being that it was still stained black with the dried blood of that Greek from the boat. Beasts of men were the majority of the population here it seemed, noticing against the spreading black red stain around the man the dull metal glint of the keys on his belt Alec threw them to the man at the front of the caravan.
go find some clothes, and dont look so afraid, I killed him because he was foul, I have no interest in any of you though the lack of manners shown in not applauding could be seen as a reason to see you all meet your makers.
The twelve men stood stunned as they observed Alec, a small pale foreigner who had his headscarf on the wrong way round step over the body of their former captor leaving them in the road with the key to their own freedom and his cold advice, a handful clapped at his statement, this caused him to frown so they quickly stopped. Alec wondered as he continued up the road the shimmering heat haze suggesting the city walls ahead that with such an absence of wit as they had to applaud him on request whether they may have been better off as slaves overall, then he remanded himself mentally for again breaking his promise and killing before even reaching his destination. His British heart however clarified with his soul that although they were murders they were no more than dirt, so it was a crime no worse than cleaning, and as such should have been done by their mothers a long time ago.
As the road began an uphill incline on the last approach to the city he could hear the distant sounds of the buzzards calling their kin to supper, unlike home, here the body disposal was free.

Verum Scriptor
November 25th, 2010, 10:27 PM
Sir,
I enjoyed the story and its stimulating scenery descriptions. However, I found it difficult to follow due to punctuation errors and not clearly identifying the speaker in dialogue sections. Here are a few other things that stuck out while I was reading:

Paragraph 1
The entire paragraph is one sentence separated by many comas. It might flow better if you broke it up into several sentences.
...cries of the slaver... This may just be me, but this evokes a picture of the slaver crying out in pain. If that is what you were going for then ok, but I think you were shooting for shouts or howls.

Paragraph 2
I cannot put quite put my finger on it, but something is bothering me about the first sentence. I think it needs to be rearranged (if I had a little more time I would do it myself and give you my suggestion, sorry)

Paragraph 3
The word had appears in this paragraph many times. At one point 3 times in rapid succession. Also, I do not know if I would leave the contraction outside of dialogue.

This is completely personal preference, but I find it easier to read if paragraphs are broken with a space. It makes it easier on the eyes.

Keep at it, good first draft :D

Sir.
November 26th, 2010, 05:49 PM
very sorry about the paragraph spacing, unfortunately formating seems to be lost when moving things across into this site. as to the grammar, I do apologize it is a long standing weakness (gradually being confronted)
I had not noticed how many hads' had been had in this paragraph shall have to reread. shall also post new opening sentence to that paragraph - soon as I get a moment

overall thoroughly flattered you took the time to read considering the unfriendly appearance of a solid block of text.

ex-cession
November 30th, 2010, 10:54 PM
i dont know how much help you wanted on the punctuation thing. but here.


The crack of the whip made Alec wince, the harsh angry cries of the slaver behind him, driving his chain of human cattle. It made him feel a heat entirely separate from that of the arid deserts’ around him. Thousands of miles of dust and death in every direction, nothing but scavengers between here and Medora. What possessed anyone to build the road between through this landscape from the sea to the gates of Medora was beyond Alec’s understanding.
“GET in line you SCUM!” The oaths of the slaver drew ever nearer, what was more in defiance of civilisation, Alec wondered; the fact that the city had been built in the middle of the most inhospitable desert, or the fact that, travelling there on the road, was a train of people treated no better than mules.
Feeling the familiar and yet so unwelcome anger rise within him, Alec returned his attention to the road beneath him. Built of individual stone tiles laid down--not all the way, just the last mile--he was virtually at the city now. Further back towards the open sea it was little more than a dirt track, but closer to the city, the king liked it to seem just that little bit more substantial. That was what Alec’s brother had told him many years ago at any rate. Alec, much to his dismay, saw the hexagon tiles appear remarkably like human hands with their simple patterns, dead men’s hands, he thought, all the thousands it would have taken to build this road – just for the sake of giving a impression.
“OFF THE FLOOR – you whelp” the bitter tones of the driver cut through the air only to be followed by the snap of the whip flicking through the air. Alec knew at this point he had had quite enough. This slaver had been polluting the road with his foul manner, speech and breath for the last two miles, since joining the road at Simone, meaning that he had probably dragged these souls from the other side of the desert so as to fetch a better price.
Stopping in the road, Alec rearranged his headscarf, waiting for the loathsome creature to come a little closer. The scarf had, after all, needed a little rearrangement; as far from expelling any traces of sand carried by the whispering winds of the desert, it seemed instead to be attracting them. Perhaps he should’ve accepted the nomad as a guide –then at least he would have had a companion to tell him not to do this and someone to show him how to tie a headscarf. The memory of the funny little man made him smile.
“What’s this, sir?” having forgotten momentarily what he was waiting for, the slaver had caught up. “waiting for inspiration! HA, make room on the road if you wish to stand still!” the oaf threw his weight at Alec, knocking him to one side, booming a large hollow laugh from the depths of his swollen gut before cracking the whip overhead again. He only chuckled when he saw the pale foreigner get up, drawing his weapon from its sheath, he must then want satisfaction.
“SIR did I offend you so?” he hollered, yellow teeth glinting in the burning sun mocking in his higher tones “Do you wish me provide satisfaction?”
He began to wade towards Alec, to fat to walk as an ordinary man would have. Alec didn’t move. the slaves had stopped; even if it was because a foreigner was about to join them – or die at the hand of their captor - a rest is still a rest.
“Do you then, sir?” the slaver's Bulk towered over Alec’s slender frame. Alec returned the glare of the pig. The slaver, looking down into this foreigners eyes, suddenly felt a fear of something. Those eyes were not normal, they were too cold – there was something not right their. He leaned back ever so slightly, moved to back away.
“I demand it, sir.” The calm in the foreigners voice was hypnotic and terrifying – this was a man facing a opponent twice or three times his seize and strength, and yet no trace of fear was seen on him, the slaver drawn once again into the cool of the mans eyes. He did not notice Alec’s wrist flick as a small silver dagger dropped into his foot, nor did he have time to cry out as the other hand whipped forward and gutted him.
“But I do not find it, beast.” in the heat of the desert, the stench from the man whilst alive had been poor. Now, with his entrails drawn out across the road, the fumes were poisons to the senses. Pausing, Alec braved the fumes from the revolting carcass so as to wipe the blade clean on the mans’ shirt; or at least cleanish, being that it was still stained black with the dried blood of that Greek from the boat. Beasts of men were the majority of the population here, it seemed. Noticing, against the spreading black red stain around the man, the dull metal glint of the keys on his belt, Alec threw them to the man at the front of the caravan.
“go find some clothes, and don’t look so afraid. I killed him because he was foul, I have no interest in any of you – though the lack of manners shown in not applauding could be seen as a reason to see you all meet your makers.”
The twelve men stood stunned as they observed Alec, a small, pale foreigner who had his headscarf on the wrong way round, step over the body of their former captor, leaving them in the road with the key to their own freedom and his cold advice. A handful clapped at his statement, this caused him to frown so they quickly stopped.
Alec wondered as he continued up the road, the shimmering heat haze suggesting the city walls ahead, that with such an absence of wit as they had to applaud him on request, whether they may have been better off as slaves overall. Then he remanded himself mentally for again breaking his promise and killing before even reaching his destination. His British heart however clarified with his soul that, although they were murders, they were no more than dirt, so it was a crime no worse than cleaning, and as such should have been done by their mothers a long time ago.
As the road began an uphill incline on the last approach to the city, he could hear the distant sounds of the buzzards calling their kin to supper. Unlike home, here the body disposal was free.

there are plenty of other things i could have changed; mostly wrong spellings, word order and explaining things slightly differently in order to shorten the sentences. all i did in the end was insert a shedload of commas and full stops where i thought they should go just to prove how much difference this simple punctuation can make, but in one or two areas punctuation was so sparse i found it difficult to work out what you were getting at.
remember to read all your writing out loud, taking notice of where you pause for breath, and add appropriate punctuation. but more importantly, on a more instinctual level, stop trying to sound like a novelist. this piece, in its words, is extremely well written, but it has no emotion behind it. keep your narrative devices, but use them as if you were telling your friend what has happened. imagine the bits that your friend would want to hear. for example, when alec guts the slaver, what does the slaver do? he drops to the ground like a sack of spuds. or something like that. get excited about it, as if you had seen it with your own eyes.
keep going though, it looks to be a good story.

ex-cession
November 30th, 2010, 10:57 PM
sorry, just saw a mistake in my own work!
“GET in line you SCUM!” The oaths of the slaver drew ever nearer, what was more in defiance of civilisation, Alec wondered;
should be:
“GET in line, you SCUM!” The oaths of the slaver drew ever nearer. What was more in defiance of civilisation, Alec wondered;
that's better.

Kordain
December 1st, 2010, 04:58 AM
first can you break it up with spaces between the paragraphs its hard to read, i'll comment when my eyes don't struggle down the page.