Didn't spot any errors; there were just a few odd sentances that could have been worded better. Like here:
Kel wrote:The crowd roared in approval as Morthin crawled to lie next to the other.
Kel wrote:The eyes of the Stygian clan were always the same starting with Ryal's mother, Quill. They were all a very brilliant shade of lime green.
Kel wrote:Sitting back, Morthin let his head fall to gaze out of the eastern window. The sunlight seemed to explode through both sides of the building, bathing the entire common room in a warm and sensuous light. It caught his hair and cast dramatic shadows over his face. He failed to notice Ryal watching not the surroundings, but Morthin himself.
Kel wrote:Ryal shrugged and refused to meet his companion's eyes.
Kel wrote:The main room was swathed with gold and red silk, dripping with fine, glittering gold chains from what seemed like everywhere.
No grammer errors (THANK YOU!!) and apart from said undertones, this looks to be very good. And I like the Oriental theme to it.
Kel wrote:Ryal and Morthin remained enrapt, staring as Daki halted the stream, hovering it high over another. It was repeated twice more to fill three cups.
Kel wrote:"Uncle you've got to use it. I ordered it already and paid for half of it. Besides, your leg isn't --"
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Ch2
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Kytus son-Lamra Dragonsbane cut off his nephew with a wave of his hand, an aggravated expression on his face.
The smug smirk of the over confident graced Ryal's thin lips.
With a good-natured chuckle, Morthin lifted himself onto his black leather boots, fine suede trousers in the creamiest of white tucked into them. His fine linen shirt was torn in places, mudded in others, the collar askew though he made no move to adjust it.
Ryal's attire was similarly scuffed due to the final fall. Picking himself up the eldest of the Stygian children dusted off the maroon tunic he wore, tugging it down beneath his ruddy leather belt. Black linen trousers were tucked into his beaten boots. "I was only a fool to turn my back on a Dornex."
Clowns of Entee Village, Ryal and Morthin were not often far from trouble and mayhem.
"If you boys're done messin' around in front of my shop, per'aps you'd best get to these errands." Toc son-Lanil Angelusi leant against the sturdy pikes that bespoke the border of the fighting ring. His meaty hands enveloped the soft, worn wood of the top, callused palms rubbing against it. He was slightly rotund with a wide girth about him due to years of heavy lifting with his stomach. He had a merry grin and pale blue eyes the likes many in Entee had never seen before. Despite his build, Toc had a gaggle of ladies searching for his devotion.
Ryal rolled his vibrant eyes over to Morthin, pulling his lips back from his teeth in an agitated snarl. The eyes of the Stygian clan were always the same starting with Ryal's mother, Quill. They were all a very brilliant shade of lime green.
"Aw, Toc, can't we test out some of yer weapons? Brings in customers every time." Morthin opened his hands in a plea, furrowing his pale brown brows at the smith. When he saw Toc's face darken into a scowl he knew to back off.
"Best do as he says, else we'll never hear the end of it. Don't we gotta go to the church? There's a delivery of this cane over there. I know Kytus ain't one for a cane, so who's it for?" Morthin asked as he guided Ryal well away from the bubbling Toc.
Ryal gestured with a flapping hand to a stall of shellfish. The ridged facades of clams glinted in the early afternoon sun, scales of fishes flashing as they passed. Bright pink gills, salty smells all beckoned the boys to buy. The port town of Entee welcomed many varying adventurers from all across the world to sample the sea.
That caused the Stygian boy to cringe in jest before striding with long legs into a little cafe next to a man hawking cheap jewelry. Morthin paused to eye a particular bracelet that sparkled a rich maple color amidst the braided gold.
Her brilliant honey hair was braided in an intricate pattern, woven over her head in and out of itself and more of the gold chains.
Morthin grimaced and Ryal flushed before the fair friend claimed, "Just the main hall, please. We're only here for a brief respite before we head to the church." Morthin fixed the Lilitian beauty with a charming smile.
The serving girl gave a grandiose bow and swept her arm to the side. Her dress appeared to be made of the passion of air, the color so vibrantly red and the make so light it seemed to blaze about her in a haze. Tiny bells jangled at her ankles and wrists as she led the two to a cozy little table clothed in a gold cloth. Her bare feet made no sound on the polished wood floor.
"Please sit," she offered before placing two small cards atop the cloth. They were stiff linen and edged in scarlet lace, the wording embroidered in gold thread. "I will send Daki to you to serve. Peace be, Madura. Daki will attend shortly."
A laugh tinkled from its throat, a wispy sleeve of spun gold floating about its arm as it laughed into the back of its hand. Hair of the most brilliant auburn cascaded in rich and lustrous curls down its back, tiny roses in gold dotting the mane. A very long skirt in glittering gold was clipped at its hip so it split when it walked, bare feet whispering across the floor.
"This is the pot in which the water will be poured. It is poured gently over the tender white leaves of the tea, swirling them in a dance of flavor and passion. It is said that tea awakens the passions in many. After I experienced White Snow for the first time, I found myself enflamed with the desire to share such a thing with others. Perhaps the two of you may become enflamed with desire."
"There's no seeds." Ryal peeled apart the fragile flesh of the fruit to peer inside.
"Of course not," Daki replied with a secretive smile. "The trees don't produce seeds, Madur Stygian."
"Then how is it they make more?" Morthin interjected as Ryal continued to dissect his fruit. There were bits of it on his fine napkin as he poked around, eating small pieces as he delved into it.
"That, dear Madura, is a secret known only to the Liliti. The tea is ready." Daki stood as the short time elapsed, her dainty hands picking up the glass pot. The leaves lay swollen on the bottom, giving off an aroma all their own.
Ryal and Morthin remained enrapt, staring as Daki halted the stream, hovering it high over another. It was repeated twice more to fill three cups. She placed the pot atop the tray and sat, lifting her own glass. Leaves were still suspended in the liquefied sunlight.
Ryal took a little more time to savor the last dregs of tea in the bottom of the cup, pushing it at Daki. "Could you put these in something for luck, please, Daki?" He smiled back at her as she picked up the cup. "Thanks."
&
"Ryal, we need to go and now. The sun's already more in the windows on the west. We've been here for hours." Morthin's voice was taut with anxiety as he hoisted the cane onto his shoulder. It was then that the Lilit returned with a small pendant on a slip of red silk string.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kytus sighed heavily and brushed his shoulder-length brown hair over his shoulder with his free hand. The sleeve of his white robe flapped to collapse at the crook of his elbow. He turned his eyes to the acolyte and asked, "How is using a cane going to ease the villagers into letting a lame priest care for their wounds, Lakyle?"
Both priest and acolyte jumped as the doors to the church were flung open, flooding the stone floor with a wash of yellow light. Two sillouhettes broke the shard of sun as Morthin and Ryal careened across the floor, through an invisible Seal set into the building, and stopped, gasping, in front of Kytus and Lakyle.
Stillgrave wrote:Nooooo.... Not "fishes" please, please don't.
You left me hanging here between this post and the next. Just what about the bracelet drew his attention? Why? What did he do with it? Did he buy it, steal it, what?
The words used by Morthin here seem to be off given the readers (mine) impression of the characters general intelligence from previous dialogues.
Laugh/laughed used twice in the same sentence, sorry, again I'm picky.
Hovering it over another what exactly?
Something for luck? This thought seems incomplete to me, even with the closing paragraph. More development here on just what "for luck" means as at first read, I thought you meant for her to put some tea into something for later. Like a doggy-bag.
No real need to describe his hair as shoulder length three words prior to stating that he brush his hair over his shoulder.
You complain about my use of comas? How about a new sentence or such here?
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