*Updated! The Shayla Vault - Short stories and one-shots. Critique appreciated!
 

This thread is based around my character Shayla. It originated as a project in character development, but since I've recieved positive feedback I've decided to continue to update this thread with new drabbles and stories about her. I hope that you guys like what you find here, and with your help and critique I will be able to grow as a writer and produce more pleasing work. <3


Stories:

Shining Shayla - http://www.menewsha.com/forum/art/li...post1767693689

Out with the Old- http://www.menewsha.com/forum/art/li...post1767665009

Souvenirs - http://www.menewsha.com/forum/art/li...post1767705666

Shayla's End - http://www.menewsha.com/forum/art/li...post1767658299

Building Character - http://www.menewsha.com/forum/art/li...post1767682857

What the Future Holds - http://www.menewsha.com/forum/art/li...post1769034689
*NEW*
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Anyway, here goes the first story!
I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope the you guys have just as much fun reading it.

A heads up: The story is mildly bloody and graphic, not extensive gore... but there certainly isn't any sugar-coating.

Please, don't feel afraid to give me some hard, honest critique. I am a reasonable person and I only want to get better, so bring on the criticism!

Also, a disclaimer. The lyrics at the beginning and end are not mine. They are the song 'People Ain't no Good' by Nick Cave.

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People just ain't no good
I think that's well understood
You can see it everywhere you look
People just ain't no good


'One!'

Shayla's face contorted in pain as the first stinging lash of the whip dug into the bared flesh of her back. She did not cry out--would not cry out! She could taste the metallic blood welling in her mouth, she had bitten her tongue fiercely with the effort of remaining silent. She wished in vain that the roar of voices around her would drown out the dreaded count of the executioner behind her.

'Two!'

She felt flesh tear and give way before the glass-tipped end of the whip once more. The stinging had turned into a dull, throbbing ache, the wounds were bruising and thin trickles of blood rolled down her back, mixed with sweat and grime, itching and festering within the open cuts.

'Three!'

"Ngh...!"

Shayla bit back her cry, angry tears tracing tracks down her grimy cheeks. The splintering wood of the platform was digging into her knees, blood welling from shallow scrapes with each agonized twitch she made. Her back was cramping from her position; bent over, hands tied behind her back. The rough rope binding her wrists had been bound too tightly and already she had lost the feeling in her hands. Her spells, too, were used up and useless, even had she been in any position to cast.

The count continued, and with each number, came the agonizing bite of the whip. Her back was swiftly becoming reduced to little more than torn flesh and meat, shreds of skin hanging loosely from her body, red and bloodsoaked. Trickles had turned to rivulets, to streams, to a veritable flood. The raw wood beneath her was now stained crimson.

For the first time, she felt utterly alone. She raised her tearful face to the crowd, eyes roving, seeking for any sign of a friendly face among the hoard of excited spectators. Of all her travels, all of the friends and connections she had made... nobody was here to help her now. She was to meet her end where her journey truly began--the dusty streets of Sunnyside City.

A flash of light caught her eye, temporarily dazzling her and causing her to blink watery eyes as she strained to see who was pushing their way to the front of the crowd. For a split instant, there was hope--perhaps her angel friend, come to save her? But no--what she had seen was merely the glint of the setting sun reflecting off of a monacle, the flash of a brilliant gold-trimmed top-hat...

Her hopes died, and she snarled in anger. Pulling herself up as straight as she could, wincing, she aimed a projectile of defiant, bloody spittle at that smug face. It fell short, merely splattering across shining, polished shoes.

...

And then she broke.

Her defiant action had cost her more blood. The speed and ferocity of the lashings increased, each movement of the executioner's arm eliciting a fine red spray of blood from her body. She cried out and collapsed, falling forward onto the harsh wooden platform, face scraping against it, legs curled beneath her. She spent the remaining duration of her one hundred lashes curled up, whimpering and resigned. There was no hope for her. Time blurred, was nothing but pain, and fear, and the only constant in her world was the steady rise and fall of the whip.

And then it stopped. Panting and gasping, she was brought back to consciousness by the toe of a rough boot digging into her side, and a splash of cold, dirty water over her face. And all she could see as she looked up, was the ominous black hood of the executioner blocking out her view of the sky.

"It is time.”

Her slender, broken body was hauled into burly arms and she was set on her feet. Her shaking body could hardly support itself. She noticed a long shadow falling across the platform and followed it to it's source with fear in her eyes. She could only manage the weakest struggle as she was half-carried and half dragged to the looming wooden structure.

"D-dregan... why... why won't you help me..."

Her shoulders shuddered with raking sobs as she allowed herself to be man-handled and propped into an upright standing position. And then everything went silent and calm. The crowd had ceased speaking, waiting with baited breath for the grand finale of their show.

And Shayla almost felt peaceful as she listened to the crier reading from his scroll, reading charges of being evil, of murder, of unnatural affiliations, of treason. She was no longer scared. She had already endured agony, humiliation, the crippling loss of all she held dear. And now even the one she cared for most--the person she had thrown away everything to please and to serve--had turned his back on her. Nothing could harm her now, and that realization brought forth an amazing moment of clarity.

She lifted her chin solemnly as the hooded executioner drew the rope over her head and around her neck. She looked beyond him, and in the distance she could see the swinging sign of the Blinking Dog tavern blowing in the wind. The fading red sunlight threw the city into distinct relief, highlighting the places she had loved, providing a backdrop to her final moments.

She sighed.

"Life is beautiful."

And then the floor gave way beneath her feet.

------------

The sun would stream on the sheets
Awoken by the morning bird
We'd buy the Sunday newspapers
And never read a single word

It ain't that in their hearts they're bad
They can comfort you, some even try
They nurse you when you're ill of health
They bury you when you go and die
It ain't that in their hearts they're bad
They'd stick by you if they could
But that's just bullshit
People just ain't no good

It’s already dull? After only the second lash? I had done a little research on lashing for another story a while ago, and I seem to recall that nothing became dull or numb for quite some time. Of course, that was cat-o-nine-tails instead of anything glass-tipped. I just thought that I’d mention it.

I’d use a word other than ‘welling’ since you just used it to describe the blood in her mouth.

I’d cut out both commas, I don’t think you need to set that apart.

The smug face of the monocle’d man? Or of the person who betrayed her? Coming from someone who doesn’t know Shyla’s story, this kind of confused me.

‘it’s’ doesn’t need an apostrophe.

I don’t think you need ‘being’, but it’s not technically wrong. I just think it flows a little better without.

---

It’s been a while since I really liked something of a forum as much as I liked this. The things I pointed out were mostly technical. I really loved the piece and I’d like to know more. I hope you post more of your writing, specifically with Shyla.

Thanks for sharing it!

Thank you so much for your critique! I've seen another or your critiques, and was hoping to get the opinion of somebody so thorough. ^_^

Comma use is one of my biggest flaws as a writer. I tend to overuse them so I have to remind myself to go sparingly. ^^

I'm really glad you enjoyed reading this! I knew that some things would leave people in the dark, like the man with the monocle. He's from her backstory, and I knew people wouldn't be likely to get it. Originally this piece was only for the other players who already knew her, but I became very proud of it and wanted some more critique. I guess I'll just have to post more so as to keep people here in the know. It was a difficult choice, but you've convinced me to write more.

Anyway, thanks for taking the time and effort to read this and give me your input! You've been a big help, especially with the thing about the lashing. You've reminded me that I really should put a bit more research into my work. <3

No problem! I'm glad I was of use! I really did like it!

My only other suggestion (since she does know the monocle'd man) is that you could just make a note of it before or after the piece. It's not really nescessary, but since you're posting on the internet where there is bound to be people reading who don't know the full story, notes like that can help the piece.

I wish I had more critique for you, but I was having too much fun reading it.

Out with the old, in with the new.
 

Ok, so I'm pretty sure the writing in this piece isn't as good as the other. I ran into a bit of writer's block and had to force out a lot of it. I hope the pacing doesn't come across as awkward, but please let me know if it does. ^^;

And I'll just throw in a little bit of background this time. This story chrinicles one of the crucial turning points in Shayla's life. She is a cleric, and to that end she draws her magical power from the deity she worships. A cleric's god is very important to them, obviously, and in this story Shayla is forced to make a very difficult choice.

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Shayla lay in her bed, unable to sleep. What could have possessed her to make such an impulsive decision? She rolled over onto her back and let out a fretful sigh, draping an arm dramatically across her brow. The memory washed over her and took her into the past.

She stood in a frozen audience chamber. Seated on a throne before her was a cold and magnificent man, as regal as any lord should be. His eyes were icy chips and they pierced her from over skeletal fingers. The alabaster digits were tented thoughtfully.

‘You come to me, asking this service, with nothing at all to offer in return?’

Though she fidgeted and stammered out a few excuses, she had ultimately come unprepared. She hadn't looked any further than her goal - didn't think to consider the means to justify the end she had in mind. And now she was on the spot, in debt to this man, this powerful being who cared not for any riches or material wealth she might offer him.

‘I-I came bearing n-nothing, because I-I know there is no possession I have that I can offer you, n-nothing that someone like yourself would desire.’

‘Ahh,’ came that voice, smoother than the satin lining of the most decadent coffin, ‘You misunderstand. It isn’t about what I want, my dear. The crux of the matter is that you give me something of yourself, something precious… Something dear to you.’

Her answer, again, had been more of the same. Hesitant ramblings and excuses.

‘I’m a traveller,’ she clutched her quarterstaff tightly, trying to draw reassurance from this symbol of her god. ‘We travel lightly, with few valuable worldly possessions…’

She groaned and let out a small whimper. Even now she could almost feel the void in her heart. For so many years, she had walked the path less traveled, following with confidence the road that Farlanghn had laid for her. But no longer. At first, she had imagined she could feel the disapproval and resentment of her deity as she turned her back on him. But no… she could feel nothing. It was as if that connection had never existed. A tear snaked its way down her cheek, just as that voice once more wound its way into her mind.

‘Your faith.’

‘W-what?’ She looked up, confused.

‘Your faith, my dear. Your god. Pay me that sacrifice. Cast him aside and follow me. Share in my vast power and devote yourself entirely to me.’

She drew the covers up to her chin and rolled over once more, this time curled up on her side. She couldn’t help but doubt her conviction. She had betrayed the most important figure in her world, at the mere urging of one man. It had barely taken any convincing! Oh, she had dallied a bit, cowered at the prospect of what he was asking of her. But in the end, she had still given in. Was she really so fickle, or was there some greater force at work behind the scenes?

In the end she threw caution to the winds and scampered up to his throne. She knelt before him with baited breath, eyes averted while she gathered her courage - and thrust the quarterstaff into his waiting hands. It was done. Much to her horror, the smooth wood began to rot and waste away. She watched until nothing remained of the disintegrated weapon.

The next thing she felt was the firm grasp of fingers, as cold as the grave, upon her chin. He forced her to meet his gaze. Those icy eyes were hard, but she imagined she could see the barest hint of a smile in the corners of his serious lips.

‘I won’t have meek followers, my dear. Take pride in your devotion to me and prove that you aren’t wasting my time or my power. You may go now.’

And just like that, it was all over. In a daze, she had collected her companion and returned to the Blinking Dog tavern, which brought her to her current state: huddled in bed, feeling alone and uncertain.

But a ghostly image of his haunting eyes gazing into her own came to mind and lingered, etched into her vision despite her closed eyes. Was she really so alone?

True, she had given up Farlanghn. And whether it was for better or for worse, it was done. It wasn't the end of the world, she was merely in a transition period. The beginning of a new chapter of her life. She didn’t have to feel as if she were alone. She had created that void in her heart by giving a part of herself away - so it only made sense to fill it by serving the one she had made that sacrifice to. She could - would! - serve her new… new what? Not really god. Master? Perhaps. Whatever the case, she could forge a new, stronger connection. She could already feel it, and it made her heart soar - she would never really be alone as long as she served him with all of her heart. Besides, was he not an entity far more tangible and real than her previous distant deity? This man, she could really see him, hear him speak with her, feel the touch of his skin against her own…

For the first time in hours, she smiled. Gripping the blankets, she suddenly hugged them tight to her chest with excitement. She imagined being smiled upon favourably and receiving his praise. Who cared that he was undead, the self-proclaimed Lich Lord? He was her lord. When she finally did fall into a slumber, it was with a name slipping out from her lips in a soft, reverent sigh.

“Dregan Hiregard…”

I know this is a working title for only a segment piece, but I thought I’d mention anyway. I think it would be better served with just one of the two. But, then, I am a sucker for short titles.

I’d cut out ‘utterly’.

I don’t think you need the ellipses at the end of the sentence.

I’d change ‘conflicted’. I like that you have a descriptor there, but it seems like she’s conflicted about the sigh itself. So maybe something more along the lines of ‘agitated’ or ‘fretful’?

I’d choose either ‘lifeless’ or ‘frozen’. It seems a little redundant together.

I’d cut out ‘himself’.

I’d cut out the ellipses before ‘but’ and replace it with a comma.

I cut out the ellipses and replace it with a period.

I’d cut out the comma.

I’d cut out ‘own’. You could also simply say ‘…doubt her conviction’, since by doubting that she is doubting herself. That one isn’t a mood breaker or anything though, so that’s a secondary suggestion.

I’d just make this: ‘…betrayed the most important figure in her world’.

I’d cut out ‘inevitably’, since we’re not really given any explanation why it’s inevitable. Also ‘that’, since there are no other thrones in the area. (Unless there are and you just didn’t mention them, in which case I think you should.)

I’d set ‘as cold as the grave’ apart by commas.

‘his serious lips’ maybe instead of ‘those’?

I’d change the semi-colon to a colon. Though to be perfectly honest I’m really not sure what ‘proper grammar’ calls for here.

Maybe ‘behind her eyelids’ or ‘closed eyes’? ‘closed eyelids’ sounds a bit to be like its on the outside rather than inside.

I’d choose either the question mark or the ellipses. I don’t think you need both.

What reason? Is it not in this segment for a reason? I can totally let this slid if it’s touched on again later and you’ve let this linger for a reason, but I thought I’d bring it up in case.

I’d change the ellipses into a period. [Yours, not mine. Sorry, I know that probably gets a little confusing.]

I’d change ‘newer’ to ‘new’.

I feel like a bit of a nerd for admitting it, but this very literally made me make the ‘=O’ face. A cleric serving a lich lord? Geeze, no wonder she’s having trouble with this.

Two questions though. Since this is your fantasy world, the rules of capitalization are up to you, but since ‘Lich lord’ is serving as an improper noun ‘a Lich lord’, does ‘Lich’ need to be capitalized? Again, since this is your world it’s up to you, but I thought I’d mention it.

Also, is ‘undead Lich’ redundant? Aren’t all of them undead? Again, your world so I have no idea, but another thing I thought I’d just mention.

---

I admit I like the first one better, though it was nice to finally see this Hiregard character! He seems like a pretty nice guy considering he is a lich lord. And I’m curious, since you wrote the death-scene out-of-canon with the ultimate intention of Shyla dying, do you think Hiregard would have actually left her to dry like that? I’m just curious. They both seem like really interesting characters.

Also, just as a note, I think you actually over-used the ellipses as opposed to over using commas. I also didn’t see much of a problem with pacing save for the part when she gives her loyalty/faith to him. I know it’s supposed to be impulsive, but you also mention she was kind of hesitant. We don’t really see her be anymore hesitant than she is through the flash-back portions of the piece. I think that could be elaborated on, but otherwise I think the pacing worked.

And as a curiosity, do liches have skin? Shyla mentions being able to feel his skin against hers, so I guess they do? My understanding of them is really limited (pretty much just from Oblivion xD), so I was just wondering how that worked in your world.

Thank you so much again, Nolori! And yeah, the ellipses were pretty crazy, I think I overused them a lot because I was trying too hard to give off the idea that she was reluctantly internalizing the whole thing. I should go through and clean it up, probably sometime tonight or tomorrow. I think that it could still be a really good piece once it's fixed up and tightened a bit.

As for all the little details, I can straighten a few things out.

There are actually three thrones in Dregan's throne room, I should have mentioned that the other two were there but empty. I still keep falling into the habit of excluding the little details my group already knows because I mainly show this writing to them. v.v

As for skin, actually, Dregan should be decomposing. But he isn't. He's actually quite terrified at the thought of decaying and to that end he lives in a frozen castle and casts 'gentle repose' on himself every night. (Gentle Repose is a spell that perfectly preserves the state of a corpse. It actually lasts for days, but he's that paranoid about it. >.>) Oh, and about the redundant use of the term 'undead' before 'lich', that was actually because I'm also pretty unfamiliar with them outside of Dregan - who isn't my own character by the way - and I wasn't sure how many people reading the story would know what a lich is. I probably should have capitalizied both 'Lich' and 'Lord', as it is actually his title.

Teehee, and I actually never posted the short blurb that is the real ending of Shayla's death. It's kinda cute and a lot less formal than the rest of the piece, and the reason I never posted it is that I love the effectiveness of the ending where she gets hanged. I'll put it up, though, and I'd love for you to read it. It explains why Dregan didn't save her from her execution. It's suuuch a Dregan thing to do, too. >.<

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Just a very short blurb in which Shayla confronts Dregan after her own death.

Building Character

Shayla opened her eyes, groggy and disoriented. She felt heavy and stiff, and her body was ever so cold...

'Is this it, then? Am I dead?' She wondered, closing her eyes. She was unable to quite master her motor skills, as if they were rusty from disuse. A shiver suddenly wracked her body and raised goosebumps all up and down her arms. 'Funny, I always thought hell would be warmer.'

Just then a cold hand rested on her forehead and she snapped her eyes open at once. Immediately, her heart soared with joy at the sight of him. 'Oh Dregan, you really care bout me! You brought me back to life, saved me from hell! I knew I was right to worship- wait...' Newly motivated, she quickly found the strength to speak. She struggled to sit upright and glared at him accusingly.

"You... you let me die!"

The smooth features of Dregan Hiregard didn't change, and he looked entirely unruffled by her outburst. In fact, he looked a little smug.

"A simple 'thank you' would have sufficed." His gesture indicated their surroundings, the cold and familiar throne room of his home. "I told you that I wouldn't have meek followers."

He paused and his ice blue eyes sparked with irony and, she imagined, perhaps the slightest hint of a smile that didn't reach his lips.

"And death, my dear, builds character."

Oh is this fan-fiction or a based off a roleplay with a friend? May I ask where Dregan is actually from?

And I have a problem excluding details too. I’ve leave something out because I already know about it and that always leads to a lot of confusion. So I totally hear you there.

---

I’d cut out ‘quite’. It might make more sense if you talk about it a little later, once she’s been able to move at all.

I’ve known these character for all of three pieces and I already like them. Because of that, I’d really like an extra line in here somewhere of Shyla showing/thinking that joy. I feel a little gypped with her joy being mentioned in just this one word.

---

Hah, I guess I really shouldn’t have been so worried about her being dead, huh? He’s dead too, after all.

It's not a fanfiction, no. ^^

As I mentioned before, Shayla is my dungeons and dragons character, and Dregan is one of our NPC's in our current campaign. He's technically my boyfriend's character, seeing as he is the DM. ^^;

But I assure you Dregan is an original character - just not mine. I have gotten permission to use him, of course. I can't really write about Shayla and her story without including the other characters as well. The characters you hear about belong to the people in my group and myself.

You mentioned it? Oh, sorry, I guess I missed it. I kind of fly through posts when I read them sometimes. I'm always a little jealous of people who are playing D&D, if only because I cannot seem to find a group around me. =\

I admit I'm a little bummed he's not from somewhere I can read more about him though. Haha.

Postin' so's you can post. ^^;

Thanks!
--

I’d add a comma after ‘stiff’, since you already used ‘and’. (I do like the phrasing of the sentence though.)

I’d cut this out since we already know she’s thinking.

I’d cut out either ‘quite’ or ‘yet’. They don’t sound quite right together.

I really like the feeling this evokes and it works perfectly. However I’d change some of the wording. Things usually become rusty from disuse, rather than misuse. Misuse seems more like she’d be hurt rather than stiff.

I’d cut out ‘then’. I like that you added this sentence, though.

I’d change the ellipses to a comma, though because it’s dialogue it could just be that he pauses a lot while talking?

--

I like the added bits, but I would still like a sentence that relates on her joy a little more, so we can watch her initial joy change into anger.

Ok, I've edited it once more. I just hope that the parts I did add in, didn't end up simply creating more problems for myself. >.>

Also, another piece coming up shortly. I have a looot of time to write, what with being on basically a three week long bus ride and all. XD

I’d cut out ‘all up and down’ and simply replace it with something like ‘along’ or something along those lines.

I really like that you added something and I really hope I’m not being annoying about this. But I think, since she’s just waking up, maybe she should be less coherent. Maybe as she realizes its Dregan she’s just happy to see him, then her mind rewinds back to the death and then she’s angry?
But, really, so long as something is there I think it works. So if you like this, I’d go with it.

I’d change ‘sparkled’ to, maybe, ‘glinted’?

--

You can write on a bus? You are truly amazing. xD I just get sick.

Of course I don't think you're being annoying! I take all of your input to heart and do what I can with it. I'll change it up again tomorrow, but for now... a last post, and then sleeeeeeep. ^__^;

This one is set a fair while before she begins to use necromancy and she hasn't met Dregan yet.

-----

Shining Shayla the Benevolent

Shayla, finally free of her cumbersome armor for the night, straightened out her robes and settled by the gently glowing embers of the campfire. Her dark hair shimmered in the firelight when she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees in true storyteller's fashion. Her smile was just visible from beneath the glossy black curtain of her hair. She eyed each of her fellow travellers, dear friends all, and then spoke. She used a more formal tone, better suited to the spinning of tales than her usual bubbly chatter.

"You know, of course, that I am driven by wanderlust across the vastness of our fair land. Farlanghn guides my feet across the beaten path and beyond. The singing of sore muscles after a long trek are my hymns, and the footprints I leave in the dust are my prayers."

She paused dramatically, letting her words sink in with the precise timing and effect of any bard.

"Naturally, I have travelled near and far, encountered many crossroads. To one of my particular vocation,it is no small affair to encounter a fork in the road. If travelling as a pair, it goes unsaid that the time has come to part ways and to leave neither road unexplored. If travelling alone, however, it could mean a great many things. It represents an important time in one's life. A time of change perhaps, or renewal."

She cleared her throat and gazed into the fire. A smile still played about her lips and the dancing shadows of the flickering flames kissed her fair skin, lending her a dramatic and enticing new persona. This grinning narrator was no longer their everyday old Shayla.

"It was at one such fork in the road where my decision changed the course of my life. I had chosen to take the path less travelled, although it was by no means the easiest. The route was overgrown and wild, and it led me deeper and deeper into the forest. The foliage was dense, the leaves of the trees above me intertwined so close to one another that there seemed to be no sky at all anymore. There was only the thick arbour above me. It wasn't long before what little pale green light had managed to filter between the leaves had vanished. I was left travelling in darkness, and it wasn’t long before I realized that at some point, my road had become nothing more than a ghost path. I was familiar with the phenomenon; when in the forest, it is quite easy for your mind to trick you into believing you are following paths between the trees, when in reality there is no such thing, but only a short stretch of a path in your imagination. In any case, I was well and truly lost. But was I concerned? Not unduly. Perhaps I was being tested, but whatever it was, I knew I would always have the guidance of my god. So I pressed onward.”

She absently removed her hat and clutched it in one hand, running the fingers of her other hand thoughtfully along the ribs of the fluffy golden feather of the magical accessory.

“After a while, the difficult terrain began to subside and the trees began to thin. The occasional weak patch of light fell through the leaves once more and as I continued on my way the light steadily grew stronger. The dark woods became twilit forests and, eventually, a bright sunny field interspersed with trees. Finally, I was out of the woods! A short distance away I could see a small village. I was grateful for the prospect of a place to rest up and get my bearings. However, upon entering the village, I found that it was poverty-stricken and falling apart. The children skittered along the street’s shadows, and I could see they had thin faces and nimble fingers. The people seemed wary of me and it was apparent they didn’t get travellers often. Or trade. The people were wary even of each other, and with a bit of digging I found out that it was a den of mistrust and thievery.

Entering the dilapidated patch of earth that served as a town square, I noticed some kind of uproar. A crowd had gathered around the dusty fountain and I could hear angry shouts, and the occasional thud of a punch landing on flesh. It seemed that two of the town’s most prominent inhabitants had been locked in a rivalry for quite some time, and things had finally come to a head. After gathering what information I could, I learned that the men were the heads of two warring factions of petty thieves that had been running the village. From what I could tell they had been stealing from each other pointlessly in desperate bids to support their own people. The simple farmers of the village were frightened for their own stock and were forced to spend what little valuables they had to hire substandard guards instead of farm hands and seed. It was a terrible situation.

Deciding that this must have been why Farlanghn brought me here, I began plotting some way to make these people work together productively. Stepping back, I concentrated and prayed for my god to give me the power of light. I could feel it radiating from my body and I put a regal expression on my face. I shouldered my way through the crowd and approached the brawlers, pulling them apart. They were more surprised into submission more than anything, and their shocked faces were illuminated by my radiance. I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Stop this nonsensical feuding,' I told them, 'You people won’t gain anything unless you can work together.’

I could see the scorn beginning to cross their expressions. Who was I, an outsider, to tell them how to run their town? I channelled the light from my body into my hands and touched their foreheads in a display of divinity. ‘I can see you are strong men, and want only to scrounge the best living that you can for those under your care. I have travelled long and far, and have learned much of such situations. Come, let us procure a room at the tavern and speak of these matters privately.'

She paused in the telling of her story, momentarily breaking her formal role as story-teller in order to laugh and give her companions each a grin.

“They thought I was god-touched! Which, well, I am. But no more than the next cleric. Maybe they thought I was an angel. It’s amazing the things people will do if you give them some of the good ole divinity. Hehe. Anyway…”

She shrugged her shoulders and went on to deliver the denouement of her tale.

“And there isn’t much more to say. I’m a cleric of Farlanghn--I know much of trade and merchantry, having travelled with my fair share of caravans in the past. I convinced the gentlemen to stop running their town into the ground with their petty thieving operations. I gave them the names of some merchants I knew, and aided them in setting up trade routes between their town and others nearby. It wasn’t easy, to be honest, because there are few caravans willing to take the effort of traversing the rough terrain surrounding that village, but I called in a few favours of my own.”

She finished with a flourish of her hat and a smug grin, standing up and giving her audience a bow.

“And the last I visited, they were flourishing! I’ve become somewhat of a celebrity to them, I think, and they bestowed upon me my ridiculous title… but I tolerate it, because it is worth the satisfaction of knowing I have made such a difference in the lives of so many people.”

Her story told, she resumed her seat at the campfire, falling silent and fading into the background once more with a vain smile. She was happy to allow her friends' chatter to resume centre stage while she sat back and chuckled over her ridiculous lie.

Out With the Old
Since it’s a title you don’t need the period.

I’d cut out the first ‘her’ since you use it twice.

I’d cut out ‘chips’ and simply make it ‘ice’.

I’d change the comma after ‘you’ to a period.

I like the imagery, but I feel like it’s awful long for a simile. Maybe cut out ‘the most decadent’?

Traveler as one ‘l’.

I’d change your ellipses to a period.

I’d cut out ‘But’.

I’d change ‘this time’ to and’.

I like the image, but because ‘she threw caution to the winds’ it makes it sound like she wants to give him her loyalty rather than being worried about Farlanghn. Is it meant to be like that?

I’d change the comma to a semi-colon. (But I also have the feeling I may have asked you to change this FROM a semi-colon the first time. If so, use which ever one you like because clearly I cannot make up my mind. xD )

---
Shyla the Benevolent

Since you don’t have any other spelling errors, I’m not sure if ‘travelers’ is spelled with two Ls in British spelling or not. If not, I thought I’d point it out. (It’s spelled with one in America.)

It was at this point that I knew I was going to love this.

Missed a space between the comma and ‘it’.

I’d choose ‘everyday’ or ‘old’ instead of using both. Using both seems less informal than you’re going for.

I’d cut out ‘anymore’.

Instead of a semi-colon, I’d make it a period.

I’d cut this out as it seems kind of redundant with what you just told us.

I’d cut out ‘whatever it was’.

I’d cut out ‘once more’.

I’d add a comma after ‘bright’.

I’d cut out ‘up’.

When you start a new paragraph and the person is still talking, you add another opening quotation mark even though you don’t put in the end of the last paragraph.

Quotation mark.

I wouldn’t use ‘plotting’ because of its negative connotation.

Quotation mark.

Same with ‘traveled’; there’s only one L, though I’m not sure if that’s just an American thing.

You should add a set of closing quotation marks to show the end of her story even though you already have the single quotation for her talking in-story.

I’d change the ellipses to a comma. I’d also change the comma after ‘it’ to a period and cut out ‘because’, just so the sentence isn’t so long.

Well, if she’s letting everyone else take over the conversation, I don’t understand why she has a vain smile?
--

I really liked this one. A lot. Not only was the story fun to read, it was fun to hear her go into bard-mode.

Out of curiosity, does she actually have levels in bard or is she just a good story-teller?

Thanks! And you know what? I'm also not sure if the double 'l' thing is just plain wrong, or a language thing. Let me check.

A-ha! So it is British with the two 'l's, and since I'm Canadian I can get away with it. ^^
I'd hate to think I've been consistently making actual spelling errors as opposed to typos. x.x

And no, Shayla doesn't have any levels in bard. However, she gave up her ability to turn/rebuke undead at first level, and instead gained 'Bardic Knowledge'. The dm allowed it because it makes sense, with how much travelling she does. She also has ranks in the skill 'Perform - Storytelling'.

Although since worshipping Dregan and all, she was allowed to regain her undead-oriented abilities under the condition that her bardic knowledge no longer levels up as she does.

And the vain smile was because she knew her friends were no longer focused on her so she could get away with it. The vanity wasn't because of the attention, it was because she was proud of the lie and the story she had thought up to support it.

And as always, thaks so much for your editing! I'm such a nerd because I'm always looking forward to it. x3
If you're not sick of my writing and of hearing about Shayla, I'm very nearly finished another one that I wrote on the road between New Brunswick to Prince Edward Island. This one is a really fun one - I hope - Involving Necrander and Mialee. ^_^

I'd love to read it! And I'm glad you like the crits! I enjoy writing them.

If nothing else, they give me something to do at work. Haha!

Wow. Sometimes I forget how intricate D&D characters are, in terms of levels and such. I really, really need to find a group. I amm getting very jealous!

I hope you had fun at PEI. I heard the sand there was a rusty red color. That must be the coolest thing.

P.E.I. has been really great! And in some places the sand is actually like a bright red, it's pretty amazing. I guess it has a really high iron content, so the red colour that we see is actually rust. Also, this is my first time ever seeing ocean and I'm pretty excited. I'm hoping to see icebergs when we hit Newfoundland. Tomorrow, though, I'll be posting from Sydney, Nova Scotia! <3

Anyway, I hope this one is also enjoyable. Written on the bus. ^^

-----------



Shayla’s reflection gazed back at her with a look of familiar excitement as she stood in front of the full-length mirror. The highly polished sheet of silver looked deceptively solid as she extended her hand toward it. She had forgotten the strange feeling of entering it. She felt a faint resistance as she pushed forward, but crossed over despite the laws of nature trying to pull her back.

The next thing Shayla knew, she was standing in the long hallway leading into Dregan’s audience chamber. As always, she tugged her purple robe around her tightly and shivered at the cold. She hopefully lifted her eyes to the throne at the far end of the room but let out a sigh when she saw it was unoccupied.

Lately she had found herself coming up with lame excuses, anything to warrant a visit. She couldn’t explain what drew her to that man. She was well aware of the fact that she was tolerated at best. Perhaps she was a source of mild amusement to him, but Shayla held no delusions that Dregan Hiregard truly cared for her on any level. So why keep coming back?

She was roused from her thoughts by a sudden, unexpected sound coming from within the chamber.

“Ugh, I lose already! Geez, you only ever want to play the quiet game a’cause you win all the time!”

The rustle of fabric and the clatter of shoes on stone echoed through the room. It was followed by a happy shriek, mumbling and some playful chatter. It was the sound of a child having fun.

“Necrander, Necrander! Look’it what I can do!” A ringing thud sounded out and Shayla imagined the little girl performing energetic somersaults and cartwheels. A grin spread across her face and she strode forward until two smaller thrones hove into view. One was occupied by the lanky form of a teenager with tousled black hair and pale skin. He looked frail and tired; his dozy eyes housed dark rings beneath them. His little sister was seated on the floor at his feet. She looked dazed, a clear case of having taken a tumble.

“Now just what are you guys up to? I swear you’re both three feet taller than when I last saw you!” Shayla strolled into the room and planted her hands on her hips. All she received from Necrander was a soft snore, but little Mialee’s face lit up with joy. Shayla raised a brow and sent a stern look Mialee’s way. “Who gave you permission to grow up while I was gone, eh?”

“Shayla!” Mialee’s reaction was shocking. The little girl gathered her pink dress about her and clambered onto Dregan’s throne. She launched herself into the air, laughing with excitement. “Catch meeeeee!”

To put it simply, Shayla was touched by the happy greeting. She caught Mialee, grunting under the force of the impact, and wistfully buried her face in the little girl’s chocolate brown hair. She surprised herself with just how glad she was to see these kids again. Maybe they were the real reason she kept returning - they needed a mother figure desperately. She yearned for someone to love in place of the son she had lost. Laughing, Shayla twirled Mialee around in the air and set the girl down on the child-sized throne.

“Well, looks like your dad isn’t around at the moment. But I suppose that just means he misses out.” She grinned and rummaged around in her pockets. Out came three parcels wrapped in brown paper. “I brought souvenirs!”

Mialee, of course, was ecstatic. She reached up and tugged on her brother’s arm forcefully. “Necrander, wake up, Shayla brought presents from the Wilds of Always!”

“Shayla? Oh… Hello…” Necrander’s words were lethargic and he acknowledged her with a lazy wave. She had long since ceased to take offence at this treatment. Necrander was a great kid, but his peculiar condition kept him in a fatigued state. To give the teenager credit, he did shift himself into an upright position. A shock of black hair fell into his eyes and he made no move to swipe it away.

“Nice to see you again, Necrander,” Shayla smiled and tossed the long, thin parcel into his lap. “Got a treat for ya. A thank-you, because your shadows really came in handy.”

The boy nodded and began slowly unwrapping the package. He actually seemed mildly happy when he held up the jagged crystalline wand. She filled him in on it eagerly. He had given her the power to summon the shadows of the dead and she wanted to repay him.

“It’s fine crystal from the Wilds of Always, crafted by foreign psionic magic.” She gave him a wink. “It should have an interesting flavour, that’s for sure.”

She turned to Mialee and handed her the smallest of the presents. The girl ripped the paper excitedly and squealed with delight when she saw the contents. Made from a fragment of extremely rare pink crystal, the pendant hung from an elegant mythril chain. It was the perfect accessory for a little princess, and Mialee threw her arms around Shayla in a bear hug. Shayla chuckled and held the girl lovingly before prying the small child off of her.

“I know that you’re responsible enough to take good care of such a valuable necklace. But even more important is to take good care of yourself, because you are worth more than all the money in the world to your daddy and your brother. And to me.”

The sentimental moment was shattered by the sound of crunching crystal and the smacking of lips. Necrander was perched energetically on the edge of his throne, licking his fingertips. His present was nowhere to be seen, but he looked a thousand times better than mere moments before. He blushed furiously when Shayla moved in on him with a hug. He returned the gesture by slinging one arm around her, still quite red. He was, after all, a teenaged boy with a grown woman’s breasts pressed against his body. He tugged away from her with an awkward chuckle.

“Thanks for the gift! I’m glad you’re back from your trip, you’ll have to tell me all about it!” He bounced to his feet and promptly tripped. He staggered forward but thanks to Shayla’s steadying hand on his shoulder, he was saved further embarrassment. “You guys wanna do something? No point in just sitting around!”

“Yay, Necrander’s fun again!” Mialee jumped with excitement and grabbed both Necrander and Shayla by the wrists. “C’mon, c’mon, let’s have a tea party with Tabitha and Cheeseface!”

Shayla barely had time to leave the third parcel on the large, ornate throne before she was dragged off to Mialee’s playroom to partake in illusory tea.

~

Mialee lead the other two away, humming a little tune. She knew her daddy was there, watching them. But she used her illusions to make him disappear because Shayla always acted funny around Daddy. This way they could all play, and Daddy could see how happy they all were together.

~

Dregan materialized from the shadows behind the thrones. He had been there the whole time of course, watching his wayward cleric and his beloved children. He circled around to the front of his sculpted stone seat and picked up the bulky gift. He didn’t need to feel the loose stones shifting within the parcel to identify them. The ambient negative energy clearly marked them as black onyx. The stones were a commodity no necromancer could ever have enough of, and Shayla had somehow scrounged up quite a pile of them. He set the gift aside and didn’t give it another thought. His ghostly blue eyes were fixed thoughtfully on the wall. As if he thought could pierce it with his vision in order to watch the tea party beyond. He couldn’t actually see it, of course, but the joyous tones in the voices of both children rang through the vaulted halls. The flighty priestess might not have been particularly efficient in her service to him, but she made up for it in all the ways that counted. His smooth expression didn’t change but he stroked his chin pensively and nodded with approval.

----------

Necrander kinda makes me laugh. He has a condition where ghosts are constantly eating at his soul, so it makes him tired and angsty all the time. But he actually devours magical items and regains some of his vigour for a short while after. We decided to flavour it as him literally eating the items. XD

In technical rule terms, he is an Artificer, a class where he can create all kinds of items but constantly loses experience points from it. When he eats an item, he gains the amount of experience points that the wizard spent to make it. ^__^

Souveniers

Since you started the last sentence with ‘She’, maybe change this one to “There was a…”?

I’d add a comma after ‘Lately’.

I’d say ‘the man’, since there’s only one.

I’d use a word other than ‘hove’, unless someone is actually pulling them up?

I feel like ‘guys’ is a little, uhm, not period-talk?

‘great’ is another word that I think is a little off for the time. Usually, doesn’t ‘great’ mean ‘large’? Since this word has been around since the 900s, it’s not a big deal and I could very well be wrong, but I thought I’d mention it anyway.

I’d rephrase this sentence, it sounds a little out of place to me.

‘his thoughts’

There should be a comma after ‘change’.

---

Necrander has the coolest ability/curse! The mental image of him eating it makes me laugh.

Oh, I didn’t realize you were traveling right now! I thought you had already written this all when you traveled earlier. I can’t believe you’re writing so coherently while on vacation. I am impressed!

Heh, thanks. ^_^

Teehee, Necrander is, like... the original emo kid when he's all tired and stuff. But he's so energetic and awkward when he's actually feeling good.

And I know a lot of the phrases seem out of place but I can't help but use more modern terminology when writing with Necrander and Mialee. v.v
I guess it was just a subconscious way of writing with a lighter tone.

Yeah, I'm still going to be out and about for another two weeks! I'm in Newfoundland, finally, and we'll be touring here for ten days. I'm so excited, because Newfoundland is where a lot of my family history is. ^__^

It sounds like you're having a lot of fun!

And awkward Necrander was the best. xD How did Dregan get ahold of those kids anyway?

That's kind of an amusing story, actually. xD

Dregan (I can't quite remember why at the moment) had ended up destroying pretty much an entire village and among the casualties were Necrander's family. Since nothing was left for him at home anyway, the young boy swore revenge and he followed Dregan everywhere. He constantly challenged him to duels and combat and, of course, lost badly every time. And Dregan is above killing children needlessly. After winning - again - one day, Dregan stopped and asked why the kid was following him anyway. Because sometimes these things slip Dregan's mind, see. Anyway, Necrander replied that Dregan took everything from him: his family, his home. Dregan's logical response, then, was that in order to break even with this kid, he should give him a family and a home. xD

As for Mialee, I believe he just adopted her after Necrander got sick and boring. She may or may not have been part of a fiasco involving Dregan saving an orphanage and rationalizing it to himself as an act of evil. In any case, Mialee reminded him of his one-time love, Cecilia. Ironically enough, Mialee is actually the daughter of Dregan and Cecilia, but neither of them are aware of this.

And for clarification, Dregan is actually only in his thirties I think and has only been a lich for around a decade. He's doing pretty well for a lich so young, wouldn't you say? ^^; Oh, and Mialee, despite acting very young and immature, is actually older than she seems in the writing. I think she's ten or eleven?

He's doing very well for himself!

I'm a little surprised Necrander forgave Dregan! Dude is clearly a better person than I.

Well I'm lead to believe that Necrander was quite young at the time, and Dregan is a very persuasive wizard. Maybe he used Charm Person? <.<

Who knows. ^^;
All of Dregan's history was Greg's doing, not mine.