Twilight Beacon Rewrites

CRITIQUE FROM A FRIEND

Rewrite in Progress

Twilight Beacon: Passages
Prelude

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4/21/6
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{( Might bring in more references to establish the period or era in which this story is occurring (more visuals) }
Her troubled mind could not be appeased. She stumbled along the { wet cobblestone(could set the stage for era, except we have cobblestone streets still today) as the night's cold drizzle chilled the last strand of confidence to which she so desperately clung.

She was dead. If the { Gods } ('g'--refers to many gods--use lower case) were merciful, her murder would be sudden and quick.

{ What had Breagin said? Eral Timmins was the one who choreographed her Da's recent walk to Ulek's cave. It was his { doin' } (doing) that got Gazsi pinched for a crime he'd never stoop to. Then in his infinite wisdom, Breagin advised her to { shadow her own skin }. (meaning??) He'd said, Eral won't stop until he has Gaszi's} (awkward) business and she the worst for it. But how was she going to hide from someone who had eyes everywhere? (Is Da a father? Brother? Teacher? either/or, not both)

{ After that said } That said, he silenced up. What more could be spoken? Cassini remembered how her own gut clench(ed) cold as the full import of her situation seeped into her knowing.(?) (Cassini's voice?) } She'd lost her Da's hard earned sweat. (how do you lose or keep sweat)} His only legacy. Upright Eral owned the markers(?)} who would have helped her save it. (New Paragraph}The silence in the alcove suffocated her. Even Breagin was backing away from her. There was nothing left to do but pay him for his parcel. (what parcel? information?) The faint chink of coin in the purse (good way to establish era--use more like this if setting is important) she'd handed him resounded through the silence like a beak's(?) gavel after pronouncing her death sentence. Breagin took the purse without any further word. When he opened the door, he hesitated. She imagined he struggled with himself to try and say a comforting farewell, but in the end Breagin only nodded with his eyes down cast and slipped out of the windowless alcove.

She stood alone in the blackness and tried to fathom how her life had { come to } (reached) this path. It was simple, really. (S)she had under-estimated Eral's hold over the guild and over-estimated her own position within that same hierarchy. Yet, there was something more at play here than one man's insatiable greed. She'd lived on the fringe of the law all her life and she had never heard tell nor experienced anything this complete. The spiral of the last two years took everyone in the under-city by surprise. Even the guild bosses were backtracking from Eral Timmins. { He'd be running the city before this wave was through, and she would be one of the bodies washed to sea after all was said and done. }(nice sentence!)

{ She stood alone in the black } (change it up--repeated beginning) for a long time. She didn't vent her fears (or) nor make a sound more than the passing in and out of her breath. She didn't move her feet to exit the small enclosure until her stomach and throat had relaxed. She must find an escape. There had to be a way to save herself. There was always a way. Isn't that what her Da had always taught her?

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4/21/6 chopped from 1447 words to 467 words
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5/20/6 Glory's critique
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4/24/6
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Chapter One


End of winter, the month of Thaumont. The icy rain and muddy month in the lowland fields and along the sea coast. Twas the season of choppy grey waters in Seal Bay as the north wind gusted temperamentally. Yet, this year the ill(-)wind along the coastal towns wasn't all together weather(-)born. { There existed an underlying disturbance in the community fabric of the tidy brick manored cities. A gutter rat with aspirations of nobility was rising(,) unchecked, stepping briskly upward along the social ladder like an unchained galley slave rushing to escape a fire in the holds of a ship. } (nice) His appearance in the circles of Moriv society hadn't gone unnoticed,(.) (Yet,){ yet } those who approached him with the intent to shove him back into his proper place were swayed either to support his rise into their midst(,) or were eliminated.

Eral Timmins was at the core of his being a business man with ambition{ s }. He loved the feel of the finest silk and linen against his skin. He also enjoyed the latest fashion, yet refused to over{ e }(i)ndulge (and) thus avoided the image of the fop. He was a young man, though not naive. He was a handsome man with (an) aquiline nose and strong jawline. Women often looked upon him with appreciative glances, and {yep!} wondered if his red hair was a warning of hidden traps within his character. He wasn't a tall figure, but well muscled and lithe. His reputation as a superb swordsman (was) { were } not exaggerated {(}as a few of the stubborn opposition experienced too late{)}. Dueling had made him rich beyond his boyhood fantasy. For every noble son he eliminated there was an opening for further business opportunity later. {This paragraph gives a good intro into the period; it would be nice to get some of this established in the prelude.}

Money was important, yet since money was no longer a problem for him, he realized that money alone didn't grant a man the power he craved. Two years before, money had got him as far as it could. Since then he'd managed to gather around himself an army of thugs, snitches, and other assorted desperate souls to handle the unpleasant deeds needed to maintain his rise to respectability irony; nice. His most important achievment was his personal guard. He surrounded himself with a hundred men loyal to him and him alone. The top ten of the hundred were closer to him than blood kin. Ten master assassins who in turn lead a group of nine expert assassins. Each of the ten acted as his under bosses, his journeym(e)an.

{ Eral was still trying to get used to the change in titles. He was nearly successfully groomed and accepted as a respectable business man and underboss and the title Upright no longer afforded him an advantage to his continuing rise. So it was he was addressed as Herr Timmins and the top ten of his elite guard were now Journeymen.} (Need More elaboration: is someone else grooming him? When will the grooming be done? What or who does 'upright' come from? How did it change to Herr? Does someone initiate all these changes?)

Eral paced as he digested the news delivered by one of his many sources within the city. He'd dismissed the young man after rewarding him with the standard three silver coins.

"This isn't good news, Frankie." Eral stopped and faced his top man who stood respectfully behind his master's chair. Eral shook his head as he returned to his morning meal. He sat with the slowness of someone thinking about { other things} things other than eating. He snapped the silk napkin open before placing it over his lap and shook his head again as if doing so would make the news he'd received go away or change.(Nice Description}

"No, this news means things are changing(.),(S)someone is acting against me. Who, Frankie? Who could counter my actions? No one knows I possess the God relic."

Eral paused, then looked up over his shoulder at his confidant.

Frankie shifted his weight. He wore a scowl of uncertainty. When he realized Eral wanted a reply, Frankie cleared the lump from his throat.

"No, Herr Timmins. Nobody knows you possess any relic. We killed them all who was with us when you found it."

"Yes, we did, didn't we?" Eral picked up his knife and fork and cut into the steak. He shook his head as watery blood spread onto the fine porcelain plate. "Still, it is strange that Feanelin and Serai have disappeared from the West Quarter. Fea wasn't anything special, but his sister held promise to be sure."

Eral closed his eyes as he closed his mouth over the large bite of rare meat. He inhaled with pleasure and a smile creeped over his lips as his intense appreciation of the warm red juices over powered any prior concern which may have occupied him. Juices leaked from the corner of his mouth and dripped down his chin. Eral was slow to open his eyes from the tactile pleasures of eating and he was still chewing with cheek bulging when he commanded Frankie to sit and share his table.

Frankie sat and took a green apple from the fruit basket. He peeled it with a small table knife. "Serai and Feanelin have kin in Halice Port. Maybe, it is as simple as they went to visit a sick aunt or grandmama."

Frankie watched his master as he spoke. Eral swallowed the last of his bite and paused as he anticipated another mouthful poised midway between plate and teeth. He averted his gaze from the succulant red lump toward Frankie's blue eyes. After a breaths span Eral nodded in agreement to what Frankie suggested.

"True, the girl and boy could have gone visiting, but I suspect something more. Let's ignore the small tripe for the moment. Serai and Feanelin are of little concern. I feel a growing strain on the vision path since we took Gazsi out of the picture and the Freyne girl is now the focus of that disruption. Six months ago Gazsi was the polar barrier, now his daughter is. " Eral pointed at Frankie with his fork as he spoke. "Get six brawny boys together, but get ones who know how to be discreet, and find that Freyne girl. Find her and silence her. I can't afford to let another gypsy slip through my net, even a half breed. Once she is gone then I will meditate to reestablish the clear path."

Frankie stood to leave.

"Oh, and Frankie, make sure she is dead. I don't want any surprises showing up say ten years from now."

"Yes, Herr Timmins. She is as good as dust and her kin will never know of her fate."

Eral stuffed the meat into his mouth as Frankie left his chambers. Confidence radiated from his broad smile. The troublesome aspect of Gazsi and Cassini would be over before sundown if he knew his Frankie. Eral's right hand wasn't yet old enough to sport a beard but he was the best assassin he had on the payroll. Eral chuckled. To his mind there was nothing better than the taste of bloody meat and ordering an execution to start a day right.

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4/24/6
all new 1039 words
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This is a decent start, Deb. There is some confusion about people and the situation within the prelude and the time period/setting of the story. These can be cleared up with a bit more description. The story is definately interesting and I find myself very curious about the villian and how he has orchestrated his rise to power. Keep up the good work.

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5/20/6 Glory's critique
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Take care and may your road lead to only good places.

Deb

Compassion and the effort to try and understand some thing that was not understood before is a step toward acceptance not only of others but most importantly of yourself.

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