Scar

[DavidGC]

The old, frail man peered into his glass of ale, looking at his boney and pale reflection. He tried to stand up many a time, only to fall back down onto his hard, wooden seat in a drunken stupor. Looking around the tavern, his wandering eyes noticed that he and the tavern owner were the only people there. This tavern consumed most of his time, as he drank away the last days of his lonely and painful life. He had no home, no family, and few friends. His house burned to the ground by the hand of the devil; his loved and closest friends were all slain by the hand of the dark-riders. Hell itself was against him, and he wasn’t sure why. The man knew his days were numbered, so he decided to live them in solitude.

 

As he took down the last drops of his liquor, he slammed the steel mug on the table. Froth flew from the mug, dusting the tabletop. The tavern owner’s head jolted his way and the old man gave him a weak smile back, accompanied with a loose nod. Again, he tried to stand to his feet, using the oak wood table covered in fizz to hoist himself up. Just then the tavern door busted open, and moonlight poured in. A few mugs on the bar fell down, bouncing to the floor. The man was startled back down into his chair. He watched the silhouette move into the doorway, an odd clanking noise following behind him. He slowly shuffled into the tavern, the surrounding candles casting an eerie glow upon his hooded velvet cloak.

 

“Excuse me, can I help you sir?” the tavern owner said, in a somewhat concerned voice.

The figure’s hood shifted towards the tavern owner, and slowly revealed what he was dragging behind him. He lifted the mighty sword above his head. The tavern owner started to say something, maybe to scream, but never had the privilege. The strange man let out a long cry as he brang it down on the tavern owner’s skull. He fell to the ground, blood spurted everywhere; up the wall, all over the freshly washed mugs, and still squirting from behind the bar. He then turned his attention to the old man who now was paralyzed with fear. Hand shaking, he reached for his mug and sucked the last drops arid, wetting his bone dry lips with the last sweetness he may ever taste.

 

Why was this man here? To make any sense of this predicament, the old man would have to rake his fading memory. Even as drunk as he was, he could remember what had encouraged this brutal war between the undead and himself. Whether he passed out, or was having a major flashback, the images appeared clear in his head. His life flashed before him, presenting themselves like a storybook. His time had come to fight back. He didn’t have the skills nor the tools to do such a thing. The liquor started to talk.

 

“So, mister scary man” he yelled, slurring his words. “You kill people! And destroy things! Does that make you better? Better than me! And my family!”

His face was full of anger, helplessness, and fear. His features slowly started to droop.

The hooded man slowly made his way to the chair, opposite of the drunkard. He calmly redrew the sword from it’s sheath.

“You’d make your family weep if they were to see you like this. No worries. You shall join them soon.”

 

 

[saltinespike]

Bolded the things I corrected, left comments in [] and underlined.

 

The old, frail man peered into his glass of ale, looking at his bony and pale reflection. He tried to stand up many times [i understand you were aiming for an elegant English touch, but "many a time" sticks out like a sore thumb. "Many times" flows nicer.], only to fall back down onto his hard, wooden seat in a drunken stupor. [Fixed some errors here, but I would like to point out some repetitions. Using two adjectives can be a nice effect when used sparingly. Here, it's used twice over the course of two sentences.] Looking around the tavern, his wandering eyes noticed that he and the tavern owner were the only people there. This tavern [Tavern, tavern, tavern. Use pronouns.] consumed most of his time, as he drank away the last days of his lonely and painful life. [Either change the "as" in the previous sentence or the "this tavern consumed most of his time". It seems grammatically incorrect (though I can't place my finger on it). Either way, it interrupts the flow of the story.] He had no home, no family, and few friends. His house was burned to the ground by the hand of the devil; [Either put in was, as I did, or make it a part of the previous sentence. Putting a semicolon after a fragment only shows that you want to cover up your errors.] his loved ones [looks better with "loved ones"] and closest friends were all slain by the hands of the dark-riders. Hell itself was against him; he wasn’t sure why [rid of the "and" and put in a semicolon, as I did]. The man knew his days were numbered, so he decided to live them in solitude.

 

As he lapped up ["Took down" doesn't seem right. "Lapped up" flows much better.] the last drops of his liquor, he slammed the steel mug onto the table [Alright, this sentence sucks. There's two ways you can fix it. I would suggest making it: Lapping up the last drops of his liquor, he slammed the steel mug onto the table.]. Froth flew from the mug, dusting the tabletop [Dusting the tabletop? Didn't know beer could be a duster. I suggest substituting a better word.]. The tavern owner’s [Will you please give him a name? "Tavern owner" grows tiring.] head snapped [snapped seems like a better word] his way and the old man gave him a weak smile back [Did the tavern owner smile at him?], accompanied by a loose nod. Again, he tried to stand to his feet [A simple "stand up" would flow much nicer here.], using the oak wood table, which was covered in fizz, to hoist himself up. Just then [No. Stop it. No "just then"s. It's a horrible habit.] the tavern door busted open, and moonlight poured in. A few mugs on the bar fell down, bouncing [clanking?] on the floor. The man was startled back down into his chair. He watched the silhouette move into the doorway, an odd clanking [Ah, now I know why you didn't put clanking. Go find a thesaurus and look up some synonyms.] noise following behind him. He slowly shuffled into the tavern, the surrounding candles casting an eerie glow upon his hooded velvet cloak [Once again, it seems you are overusing the adjectives. Tone it down a bit.].

 

“Excuse me, can I help you sir?” the tavern owner said, in a somewhat concerned voice.

 

[Off to a bad start. Make sure you have these spaces.] The figure’s hood shifted towards the tavern owner, and slowly revealed what he was dragging behind him. He lifted a mighty sword [Ooooh, ahhhh. Cheesy.] above his head. The tavern owner opened his mouth, maybe to scream [We don't say screams.], but never had the privilege. The strange man let out a long cry [ok?] as he brought it down on the tavern owner’s skull. He fell to the ground, blood spurted everywhere [Again, ooooh, ahhhh. So what? Describe it, man.]; up the wall, all over the freshly washed mugs [Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we gooo.], and still squirting from behind the bar [is that supposed to make me cringe? Because it failed. We're starting to go beyond correction, mate.]. He then turned his attention to the old man who now was paralyzed with fear "Uh oh, you're in trouble!!" Cheesy, again.]. Hand shaking, he reached for his mug and sucked the last drops arid, wetting his bone dry lips with the last sweetness he may ever taste [Very good, very good. Wonderful sentence, here. Loved it. This should be an example for all of your sentences. Not being sarcastic.].

 

Why was this man here? To make any sense of this predicament, the old man would have to rake his fading memory. Even as drunk as he was, he could remember what had encouraged this brutal war between the undead and himself. Whether he passed out, or was having a major flashback, the images appeared clear in his head. His life flashed before him, presenting themselves like a storybook. His time had come to fight back. He didn’t have the skills nor the tools to do such a thing. The liquor started to talk. [No grammatical corrections. It's a bit cheesy, and would be more appreciated if this was in the middle of a huge battle or something. Not too bad.]

 

“So, mister scary man” [i know you are trying to emphasize his drunkenness, but this is just a silly line, unfitting for the story.] he yelled, slurring his words. “You kill people! And destroy things! Does that make you better? Better than me! And my family!” [REMEMBER THE SPACES!!!]

 

His face was full of anger, helplessness, and fear. [Well, you couldn't tell from his dialogue...] His features slowly started to droop.

 

The hooded man slowly made his way to the chair, opposite of the drunkard. He calmly redrew the sword from it’s sheath.

 

“You’d make your family weep if they were to see you like this. No worries. You shall join them soon.” [-screams in terror- Ahem. No. Not scary, only cheesy. Sorry to say it.]

Edited July 12, 2007 by saltinespike

[Coral_City]

Well saltine's got this on lock, hasn't he?

 

Okay, the biggest gripe for me had to be the story. I mean, it seemed to be going in a good direction (you know, with an indepth meaning to life and what not) but instead, some unknown character decides to barge in and ...for some f*cking reason kills the "tavern owner". It seems like a nonsensical plot to me...it really does.

 

What's the point of immersing the reader into a fairly decent story only to show off some senseless murder description?

Edited July 12, 2007 by Coral_City

[TheJonesy]

Well saltine's got this on lock, hasn't he?

 

Okay, the biggest gripe for me had to be the story. I mean, it seemed to be going in a good direction (you know, with an indepth meaning to life and what not) but instead, some unknown character decides to barge in and ...for some f*cking reason kills the "tavern owner". It seems like a nonsensical plot to me...it really does.

 

What's the point of immersing the reader into a fairly decent story only to show off some senseless murder description?

Very true, my friend. Judging by your sig and avatar, I thought your story was talking about...[well, ya see where I'm going].

 

But I am not too worried, cause if this is continued, you will more than likely fix this problem. Keep it up please!

[Eminence]

I think most of it has been covered so far, really. The writing isn't too bad - there's some good stuff in there - but the plot is completely nonsensical and redundant. So, this guy has come in and killed someone; but there's nothing really leading up to it. The description isn't vivid enough to provoke a reaction from the reader, and we aren't familiar enough with the characters to care for their situation.

 

Your writing isn't too bad - spike's gone on a rampage correcting many small mistakes, I know - so you should continue and you'll improve greatly with each piece. But, try to work more on the plot, and then how you execute the plot to intrigue the reader.

 

Not bad, as I say. Keep writing!

[DavidGC]

Wow, thanks a lot guys for all the feedback, especially you saltinespike for all the corrections. I appreciate it. I will try and continue on with the story, maybe do a bit of editing in that part and do a bit of prologue stuff leading up to it. Again, thanks guys!