The next day, Pook did not go job hunting, even though there was now more reason than ever to seek one. Instead, he went to one of the city's markets. The stall-keepers eyed the filthy, emaciated gobux suspiciously. He could not be looking to buy...
Indeed he was not but he passed by the food stalls with barely a glance at their produce.
It was to the stalls selling silks, beads and feathers that he went. The rich ladies all stopped like magpies when they spotted something shining, to ooh and aah and then walk on their way, leaving a disappointed stall owner, even more desperate to sell their wears.
It was behind one such group of these ladies that Pook snuck up to his first target. He willed them all not to see him as he went, darting between the ladies' skirts. He looked behind him. There were a dozen or so of the guards, who he had learned since coming to the city were known as the Militia, or the Malicia. They patrolled the streets, looking out with sadistic eyes for any beggar they could kick, bully and rob of what he'd been given or any little pickpocket to rid of a hand and drag to the jails.
Pook was at the stall, looking up at the beads. Don't see me, he willed. Don't see me. He had but a few moments... He grabbed one green, one red, one white and one black and then he darted away.
Next, for some feathers. They sold them at a hat stall nearby, he knew. Shoving the beads in his grubby pocket, he started towards it.
A rich Nom, dressed in some ridiculous getup that looked like twenty feather boas all woven together, was trying on a hat. In it, amongst all the pheasant, paradise bird, peacock and parrot feathers were a few simple white and grey feathers; were they seagull feathers? One would have to suffice.
The Nom was jumping around a little in glee, skipping and dancing. She was very pleased with the hat: "Oh, I say, oh how very fetching! How very fetching indeed!" The hat bobbed backwards and forwards along with her body. Wouldn't it be wonderful, Pook thought, if one of the seagull feathers fell out... It could happen easily, with her jumping like she was. Oh, how he wished it would! Sure enough, one soon fluttered to the ground. The Nom didn't notice it; it wasn't bright, garish or extravagant. She continued her dancing for a while in an obvious effort to attract attention to herself and the very fetching indeed hat. Another feather, a paradise bird's, fell loose from the hat. Pook chuckled; with that energetic nom for an owner the hat wouldn't last long! He waited for her to stop her dancing and walk away, having bought the hat, then dived on the feather. He pocketed it along with the beads, pleased not to have had to steal to get that part of his charm.
Now all he needed was a little bit of string.
Pook spied a stall selling wool, threads and ribbons. Perfect, he thought. It was busier than many of the other stalls with a large crowd looking at the wares. It would be easy to nip a hand out and grab some string... Pook worked his way through the press to the front, thankful for his short gobux stature.
It was easy; the stall owner was discussing a very particular shade of green with a member of the crowd and getting somewhat exasperated that they hadn't brought a piece with them. No-one was paying any attention, he could just reach out and grab... He pocketed a length of dark thread and turned to go but a shiny gold ribbon caught his eye. Yes, that would look beautiful... Yes. Pook reached out and grabbed it, he-
"You, slimeball!"
Keep walking, keep walking, Pook told himself as he heard the Militia guard shout and the sound of his feet starting to run. If you run away you'll look suspicious, he might be talking to another slimeball... Pook couldn't help it. He turned to see that the guard was looking right at him, sword raised.
Pook ran, darting and winding through the crowd as fast as he could, hiding behind wagons and turning this way and that down different streets, trying desperately to shake off the growing group of pursuing guards. Even those who hadn't heard the first guard's shouts started chasing him when they saw a frantically running gobux. All the guards were prejudiced; of course a gobux could be running for no innocent reason.
Pook shook with fear, his knees buckling as he though of what they'd do to him if they caught him, of what would happen to Mook and the goblets if he was dragged off to the jail... He'd never see the new litter be born, never watch them grow into beautiful little gobuxes.
He felt so paralysed with fear that he couldn't go on, yet he knew he had to; if he gave in to the fear it would only lead to the fear becoming reality. At one moment it would seem that he was losing them, at the next that they must catch him at any second...
Pook was soon out of the main marketplace, in little backstreets like the one where he slept with his family. It was dark. He was sure that the pursuit could not see him. He had a moment to think. He must hide. Where was there? A hundred possibilities presented themselves in his mind. The street was full of hideyholes. He had to choose one, before the guards came and he missed his chance. Pook grabbed a beam of splintering wood and swung himself up on to it, flapping his wings to give him a little extra momentum. He was on the roof. Breathing a sigh of relief, he lay flat and listened to the drumming of the guards' feet as they charged down the street.
"Where's he gone?" a guard shouted, "Where's the little slimeball gone? Search, you fools! Search everywhere, quickly!"
Pook began to shake with nervousness. It was irrational fear, he told himself. The guards, all humans and dwarves, could not get up here. They'd never think to look on the roofs. Indeed, it was almost funny the way they were all running frantically around, searching on the ground for one who was in the air! Pook gave a little chuckle and then cursed himself. Luckily, the Militia were making so much noise that no-one heard him.
The Militia had almost given up:
"Come on, lads!" one who seemed to be the head guard cried, "We've lost him; back to your posts, everyone!"
Peeking over the edge, Pook saw the guards all straighten up and, sighing, begin to walk away. Disappointment was written on their faces. Pook hoped it was for the miscarriage of justice but thought it more likely was for the missed opportunity to beat and bully one weaker than them.
"Excuse me!" a thin, hungry voice cried from the shadows. Pook's eyes swivelled to see a shrunken and shrivelled old gobux, rotting away in a heap by the wall. He was obviously homeless and starving, just like so many of those in this city, "I know where he is!"
Okay, so another amazing chapter! Never change this style of yours, NEVER!
It's amazing! Like the previous chapter, well paced with emotion, action, and description all wound beautifully in!
However you do have a problem still! Remember what I told you the other time I reviewed a chapter? That you assumed that the reader already knew so much about your story world. Well you still have this problem. However this time I have a much better solution to the problem, one of the main problems a Fantasy/Sci-Fi writer can have is a lack of knowledge on their world. They'll write stories about their world but if they don't have enough information in their head about that world then they eventually fail. . . . eventually the stories just stop and the writer goes into writers block. What you really could use to do here is to sit down and write a few dozen pages on your world.
Think of all the different things that make a world. Worlds have peoples, cultures, history, geography, climate, architecture, customs, mythology, religion. . . . You just need to sit down, think of a list of things that make a world and then write a paragraph or two about each of them for your world! That's it! Really, once you do that you'll find yourself incorporating that information into your story and it will get infinitely better! But remember, readers want action, not page after page of narrative summary!
Anyway! Another great chapter! Keep this up and I can see myself buying this off of a shelf some day in the future!
Keep writing!
~Black~
You'd buy my book? YOU'D BUY MY BOOK!
yay i love you!
Hello!
You have a really strong opening here which immediately grabs my attention and makes me interested in the character and what's going on so good work! Your use of emaciated particularly caught my attention as it can be a tricky word to use, but you supported it well with the language to either side and made it feel natural.
I would, however, like more description of these stalls. You aren't setting the scene and this sentence is so bare bones: It was to the stalls selling silks, beads and feathers that he went.
Instead I expect something closer to: It was to the stalls overspilling in rich silks, smuggled from the middle east and still smelling vaguely of the wheezy, opium scents; the stalls crowded with beaded jewellery, feathered hats, hats without feathers and feathers with nothing above or below.
That's a very quick write up, but an overflow of description at this point would be great as it would reflect the business of a market place.
Oh my, this hat is very badly made for two feather's to fall out in quick succession! I'd like at least to see the stall owner's reaction to this - has she bought the hat yet? Is he looking half angry, half worried as he now desperately wants her to buy it and is half aware that the merchandise is a little shoddy? Your man's a thief and the first person he should be watching is the stall owner - they can be fierce about protecting their wares.
Most of this is excellent and you build suspense well - the chase scene is very enjoyable. You've also got a few great injections of irony with the thief grumbling about how suspicious everyone else is. Thanks for a very nice read.
Keep writing!
Thank you! I'll have a look at adding in a bit more description