DELETED

Heys
First off...I hate you for only putting an excert I won't be able to concentrate on anything until I read the read haha.
Overall I liked it a lot. There were only a couple of reeeeeealy minor things I spotted, but they don't make that much of a difference.

Owen’s eyes flashed open and blinked at the bright rays of light that slid through the cracks in the curtain. Yawning, he rose from his straw bed. His back screamed with pain from the bruises that he had earned at battle practice the day before. Grimacing, he pulled clean work clothes off the small trunk at the foot of his bed.

As he tugged them on, he heard drills being bellowed out, the stomping of hundreds of feet, and clash of blades meeting blades in the courtyard.

“Oi! Boy! You still in bed? Get up you lazy fool!” #FF0000 ">Laughter filled the kitchen nearby. He frowned at his father’s taunt and slipped his boots onto his feet. Only three more months. Three months until my first duty call. And then I’m out of here, Owen repeated over and over in his head as he took a deep breath. He put a fake smile on and entered the kitchen.

Axes, spears, helmets, daggers, swords, and other pieces of armor lay abandoned in the corners of the room. A number of boisterous soldiers sat at the table in the middle of the room. Soldiers and cadets laughed as they told stories and drank cups of who-knew-what. New cadets sat at the sides of the table gawking at the older soldiers‘ tales. Their sand colored skin stood out from their slightly dirt covered white tunics. Owen’s father sat at the head of his table; he was by far the loudest of them all.

“My boy!” He yelled, pounding his fist onto the table. Owen flinched at the sound of fist meeting wood. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Captain Norwood gave an impatient glare at Owen as he rose from his seat. The chair screeched loudly against the wood floor. He smiled, putting on a show for his young cadets.
“Good morning, Captain.” Owen replied. He knew better to ever call his father, well, ‘father‘.

Infact I think that was the only error I spotted...nice one
I would personally include just a tad more description, perhaps of his room or his clothes, but that just because I love to be really immersed in what I read. But overall, an excellent peice. Make sure you keep me updated

Lastly, I don't want to beg but I'd really appreciate it if you could possibly have a look at some of my work. If not to review then just to give me some feedback on what you thought...I'll bribe you with points..haha

I enjoyed reading this excert though and I'll be sure to read more soon...

Thanks for all the reviews!

Megsug - I don't like the relationship with Owen and his father very much either. But, I think it is neccesary in the plot of "Caerowyn".
This excerpt is more like a part 1 of Chapter 1. I only called it an excerpt because I haven't yet finished the prologue. *shrugs*

Thanks again for all the reviews!!!
~DeadEndsAreOptional

Hey,
I'm not a big fan of exerpts, but here we go.
Owen's pretty good. The whole mean father that doesn't really love his son, kind of rubs me the wrong way, but that's just my opinion. Following in a father's footsteps when those footsteps seem too big for you to fit in, is a great idea. I would practically call it classic.

Owen’s eyes flashed open and blinked at the bright rays of light that slid through the cracks in the curtain.
Flash isn't a very good word here. Flicked... There are others that just aren't coming to mind...

Yawning, he rose from his straw bed. His back screamed with pain from the bruises that he had earned at battle practice the day before. Grimacing, he pulled clean work clothes off the small trunk at the foot of his bed.
As he tugged them on, he heard drills being bellowed out, the stomping of hundreds of feet, and clash of blades meeting blades in the courtyard.
This is just me, but after a lot of excerise you're normally very sore. I would add something about how stiff he is, but don't tell, show.

“Oi! Boy! You still in bed? Get up you lazy fool!” laughter filled the kitchen nearby.
Capitalize laughter since that's not how the dialouge is being said. If the voice laughed then it would be lowercase.

Axes, spears, helmets, daggers, swords, and other pieces of armor lay abandoned in the corners of the room.
That seems very unsoldierly.

Soldiers and cadets laughed as they told stories and drank cups of who-knew-what. New cadets sat at the sides of the table gawking at the older soldiers‘ tales.
Why aren't the cadets drilling like whoever woke Owen up?

He knew better to ever call his father, well, ‘father‘.
I feel like messing you plot up, so like I said don't like this relationship. As much as I hate the word cliche, this is overused. I believe you can make this something original, but you're going to have to pull some huge twists out of your hat.

Hello there!

I really enjoyed reading this, it was very descriptive and easy to picture.

There were a few awkward bits though:

As he tugged them on, he heard the sound of drills being bellowed out, the stomping of hundreds of feet, and the clash of blades meeting blades in the courtyard.

New cadets sat at the sides of the table gawking at the older soldiers as they told their old war tales.

Greetings Dead Gal, it's a pleasure to meet you! I'm HP and I'll be your reviewer for today!

So since this is just an excerpt, I won't go all in depth about certain things because, well, it's just not possible without having the full chapter. Anyways, I think that you've introduced your characters pretty well. I wasn't overwhelmed with a load of information at once, so that was good. Here's a couple of my nitpick stuff:

Owen’s eyes flashed open and blinked at the bright rays of light that slid through the cracks in the curtain. #FF0000 ">Yawning, he rose from his straw bed. His back screamed with pain from the bruises that he had earned at battle practice the day before. #FF0000 ">Grimacing, he pulled clean work clothes off the small trunk at the foot of his bed.

As he #FF0000 ">tugged them on, he heard drills being bellowed out, the stomping of hundreds of feet, and clash of blades meeting blades in the courtyard.