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erased as of 11-8
"Demon hunter" was a euphemism for werewolf murderer.Demon hunters were paid to slaughter werewolves.
Bane could hardly conceal his smile as Jeb rattled off all the new facts (and some of them, vicious propaganda against Bane’s kind) he’d learned.
The young werewolf felt sickened by the excitement in his friend’s voice.
Bane’s sour mood, which had been darkened by the previous discussion.
Bane could tell by the unnatural curve of her thin waist that she was wearing a corset, a garment he found unattractively fake.
Her skin was as pale as a vampire, except for a bit of rosy color splashed around her cheeks.
I really am an urchin, thought Bane, contemplating the simple dialect of Common Speech he spoke.
God, thought Bane.
“Aye. That’s it.
fiercely attacking the dusty street with a broomFor some reason I love this sentence
(andThis is just my opinion but you shouldn't use ()s in a story (no idea what they are named)
some of them, vicious propaganda against Bane’s kind)
Haruno Sakura wrote:Thanks for reading!
It might look weird...my computer's tab is strange, so I had to edit the format a lot.
Edit: Ugh, it didn't work... sorry! (the double spacing) Copy and paste it into word. If you do that it is easier to read.
This chapter is kind of emo. It gets better. In the next chapter Bane stops whining! ^_^
Part Two of Chapter 1:
“Come by at the tavern with me, and we’ll have a drink. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
As they walked, Bane observed Ostia. The air smelled thickly of salt. [It's two good sentences within themselves but side by side they seem a bit disjointed. Could you mix up the order of these sentences that describe Ostia just to make it flow a little] The townspeople were furiously preparing for the arrival of the royal family. Bane saw a woman outside of a bakery dressed in her finest outfit, fiercely attacking the dusty street with a broom as her daughter fed scraps of stale bread to seagulls. To the south, he could see the Letztes Hafen mountains looming impressively. [I like that description]“You know, I could do other things then be a wilderness guide, too,” (comma instead of period) interjected Jeb unexpectedly. He was apparently still thinking of Fang.
“What do you mean?” asked Bane curiously.
“Shortly after you and Fang left the last time I saw you two- I think we were somewhere around the town of Nerra- I got another client. He was a demon hunter.”
Bane scowled inwardly. "Demon hunter" was a euphemism for werewolf murderer. Demon hunters were paid to slaughter werewolves. (If its a euphemism or werewolf murderer then isn't it a little obvious that they kill werewolves for money? Maybe you want to make a little more emphasis of them being paid for that, that being paid for it is even lower than doing it to 'protect' or whatever. But feel free to ignore me on that one haha)
“Anyway, we were walking and I saw these two wolves. One was black- about as dark as your hair. The other one was silver. They were just standing there, watching us. I thought it was peculiar that they didn’t dash away like wolves normally do. I said it out loud, and the demon hunter said, ‘We ought to
be careful because those are werewolves’. I asked how he knew, and he said it’s
because werewolves are bigger than normal animals. He told me a lot about
werewolves.”
Bane could hardly conceal his smile as Jeb rattled off all the new facts (and
some of them, vicious propaganda against Bane’s kind) he’d learned. Those
two werewolves had been him and Fang.
“But the point is, when we finally reached our destination he told me that
I was strong and that I could be a demon hunter, too! Can you imagine that? Me
as a demon hunter?’
Bane could imagine it. He could imagine his best friend capturing him,
being the one to place the silver chain around his neck. He shuddered.
“Where were you taking him?” asked Bane, trying to be conversational.
“Oh, he and some other hunters had a camp set up somewhere near here.
When he and I got there, his fellow hunters were actually in the process
of getting rid of several werewolves. I got to stay and watch!”
The young werewolf felt sickened by the excitement in his friend’s voice.
A sense of paranoia crept up on him. The hunters had set up camp just outside
of Ostia! Perhaps they had seen him, saw his blood red eyes, a key trait of all
werewolves- and recognized him for what he was.
Jeb continued to speak, (comma not period)
“You should have seen them all rolling around on
the ground like animals! That’s all they are really. Animals. The world would be
improved if all the demons were gotten rid of. Ah! Here we are!”
Bane looked up and saw a sign that read Anglo’s Alehouse. It was a delap-
idated building- its (rather than it's) roof shingles were pealing(isn't it peeling? hmmmm), and the door had obviously been
re-hinged, probably after having been torn off in an ale-fueled bar fight.
Jeb held the door open for Bane and the two entered.
The building had a dirt floor, and was crowded with tables and chairs
everywhere. Men talked loudly and drank, while others quietly sipped their
beverages alone in dark corners.
(I think some sense description would be good here. How did it smell to Bane, in particular. Cos by the sounds of it, it could stink!)
Jeb quickly scanned the room. “There she is!” he announced happily,
apparently unaware of Bane’s sour mood.
Jeb led Bane to a dark corner of the tavern, where a young girl of about
Bane’s age sat nervously, glancing around and jumping at every sound. She was
obviously very wealthy. She was wearing a tight-fitting indigo dress with loose
sleeves that were trimmed with lace. Bane could tell by the unnatural curve of
her thin waist that she was wearing a corset, a garment he found unattractively
fake. (Instead of just saying she was wealthy, maybe compare her clothes to theirs to make it obvious that she is wealthy without stating it outloud. Something like 'her tight-fitting indigo dress was luxurious in comparison to their muddied attire' or....something like that, only better obviously)
Bane sucked in his breath as he examined her face. She was the most
gorgeous human he had ever laid eyes on. Her delicately feminine features were
aligned perfectly on her face. Her skin was as pale as a vampire, except for a bit
of rosy color splashed around her cheeks. Her nose turned up aristocratically.
Her eyes were a deep unsettling green. She had long delicate fingers that would
have looked out of place on a common farm girl. Her hair was long and blonde.
Too long to be practical. (Again the sentences are a bit choppy and jarring. Get them to mix together a bit better and it would be a good description piece)
“There you are!” she exclaimed angrily, (comma not a period)“How dare you leave me so long
at such an establishment! Do you know what could have happened to me?” Her
accent was that of aristocratic society. (Again, you could describe her voice and make it obvious to the reader through that, rather than just saying it)
I really am an urchin, thought Bane, contemplating the simple dialect of
Common Speech he spoke. (hehe, I liked that. I think it would be better however if you mentioned example what her voice was like and what it conveyed beforehand)
“Sorry,” apologized Jeb sincerely, bowing slightly to the noble girl. [s]Then [/s]
He turned to Bane. “This is Neerie. She’s looking for a guide to take her-?” he
paused and looked at Neerie. (Works better without the 'then')
“Gaelica,” she said firmly, her eyes flashing with rebellion and defiance.
Gaelica was the country south of the kingdom of. She’s leaving the king-
dom? Bane thought suspiciously. He yearned to ask whether or not she was
running away, but it was the policy of wilderness guides not to ask why their
clients were going to their final destinations.
Instead, he only whistled. “That’s quite a bit of traveling. It’s going to cost
you a decent amount of money.”
The girl sniffed defiantly. “I have money.”
“Then I can get you there in a little less than a month,” replied Bane.
“That’s a month of life outdoors. You’ll be sleeping without a bed, eating
whatever I can catch. If you get tired and delay us more than a day, it’ll cost you
extra. Understand that, girly?” The last thing Bane wanted was a spoiled brat
to tug around for a month.
Also, a month was an extremely long time to go
without shifting. After about a weeks exposure to iron or wolfs bane, a werewolf
would gradually become sick and weak. A month could kill him if he didn’t
shift.
Jeb frowned at Bane with disapproval. “You’ve gotten bad-tempered in
the month since I saw you last.” he declared.
Bane felt a jolt of surprise. “In the month? I haven’t seen you in a month?”
Jeb shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
God, thought Bane. Full moon would arrive soon. “I’m sorry, girly. I can’t
be taking you then.”
Neerie’s eyebrows contracted. “Why?” she pouted.
“I’m supposed to see my brother.” he lied. “Aye. That’s it. Sorry.” He
turned to Jeb. “Well it was pleasant seeing you, but I ought to be leaving.
Goodbye!”
He left the tavern as quickly as he could and retreated into the woods. It
was nearly nightfall. He’d shift soon. I need to find another werewolf to ask when the
full moon is, he deliberated. But right now he was drained. Bane hardly felt like
living now that his brother was gone, and his best friend was contemplating
becoming a werewolf hunter. He shut his eyes and wished it would all go away.