The Noble: Assassin

[Tyranus]

The Noble: Assassin

The assassin ran across the rooftops of the city of Tellene, he was following his prey, a short man who had done something to piss off some noble. The short man apparently believed he could lose the skilled assassin in the maze of alleys that made up one of the poorest sections and largest sections of the city. The assassin was uncomfortably aware of the brightness of the moon, but he cared not that someone would witness the night’s act, after all few witnesses ever came forward and those who did never seemed to live much longer. He was more concerned with his prey noticing him, since the commotion that the short man would inevitably cause would be particularly annoying.

Thankfully his nameless prey has yet to see him after several minutes, in fact he seemed to be paying much more attention to the alley way before him, since one never wishes to trip when there is a dagger seeking to find a home in your back. In truth the assassin could have chosen to end the chase at any point during the several minutes he had been chasing the short man, but he found a sort of pleasure in the terror of his prey. Finally the assassin decided to end the farce and raced ahead, overtaking the man’s position in the alley below and hiding in an the shadows of a narrow alley the man would have to eventually pass. He shrunk back against side of one of the buildings that helped to make the alley and drew his dagger and he waited, but it didn’t take too long before he heard rapidly approaching footsteps and heavy breathing.

The short man kept running, he wasn’t sure if the assassin was still behind him, but he had no desire to look back to see and risk tripping over some random piece of garbage or drunk. He was short of breath, his lungs burned, and his legs ached terribly, but he had no choice, but to keep going as he had no desire to die. The man struggle d frantically to think of some reason why someone would want him eliminated, but none came to him. I have done nothing wrong, he thought, who would..., the though was lost at that as a fist rounded the corner and stuck him in the face, quite hard. The short man’s forward momentum increased the damage done and the man flew from his feet to land on his back.

The assassin stepped out from behind the corner, that was too easy, he thought. The short man’s hand clutched his face and he writhed on the ground until he saw the assassin standing above him. His feet began kicking desperately as he tried to back away from the assassin, it was no use though, he had no chance of getting away.

“Please ser, don’t kill me, I beg of you, please, please,” pleaded the short man. “Oh gods, please, there must be some mistake,” he continued. “Please, I have done nothing wrong, ple…” the man’s blabbering plea was cut short when the assassin’s dagger found the man’s throat. The assassin hated the ones who turned into blathering idiots when death was upon them, he especially hated the ones who tried to beg for their lives. Normally the man’s death would have been much slower for that, but the assassin had a meeting to attend and money to be paid.

The assassin bent over the man’s body and removed his dagger from the man’s throat and checked his pulse just to make sure the man was truly dead, he was of course. He grabbed the man’s feet and dragged the body into the dark alley that the assassin had initially hidden in, hopefully no one would find the body before his employer could send out some of his men to make sure the deed was done. The assassin then climbed back to the rooftops and looked out upon the section of the city he was in, he briefly wondered how many other slayings would take place that night, he shrugged and calculated the best path to take to the warehouse where he would meet his employer and receive his well deserved payment.

The assassin ran along the roofs as he had done earlier that night and many other times before. The rooftops were a much more direct and safer course than the maze of alleys that formed a deadly trap for those unprotected or lost. About and hour after leaving the man’s body, the assassin arrived at the seemingly empty warehouse, where he was to meet his employer. He moved to the roof of the large building and attempted to locate an entrance into the building. He searched for several minutes before finally finding a small, unlatched window. He looked through and saw nothing but darkness below the window, there was also a faint light towards the center of the building. The assassin slowly and quietly opened the window and dropped down silently into the shadows below. He crept slowly towards the light, using the several crates as cover.

He heard voices before he got too far, and one was obviously agitated, “Where is that assassin,” it remarked, his voice had an impatient edge to it and the assassin figured the voice belonged to his employer, who was undoubtedly a noble. “He should have been here by now, it’s not like that short bastard was a difficult kill.”

“Calm down,” responded another voice, which was much deeper and much more patient, “I am sure he will be here soon, unless of course the short one actually managed to kill him instead.”

“Ha, that would be a laugh,” said the noble who sounded amused at the thought. “he better get here soon or he won’t be paid at all,” continued the noble, now far less amused.

“If you do that, then I am afraid that you too will find my dagger residing in your throat,” said a voice from the darkness. The assassin walked into the light, to stand before the man, who was definitely a noble, his clothes were dark, but made of the finest fabrics, the longsword at his side was purely decorative and the dagger opposite of it was much the same, and his hair was cit short which was now the style for those pompous bastards. The assassin looked towards the other man, who stood in stark contrast to the noble, his clothes were dark, but were made of the same durable fabrics used for military uniforms, his boots were the same type worn by the kings army as well. His armor was well made and was also black. The bastard sword at his side, was definitely not decorative, its hilt discolored by the years of sweat. He was tall and heavily built, his face was clean shaven and his hair worn close-cropped in the military fashion. He was also much older.

“Have you my payment.” asked the assassin.

“That depends, have you dealt with the problem,” responded the noble.

The assassin nodded and told the noble to send for a servant to check, the noble waved the man at his side to do it and motioned for the assassin to sit down at one of the chairs that had been placed in the circle of light. Between the chairs sat a small table, a glass bottle containing some kind of liquid sat upon it. The assassin sat down and the noble picked up the bottle and poured some of the drink into one of the glasses that sat near it. The noble sat the bottle down and lifted the glass holding it out towards the assassin questioningly.

“No thanks,” responded the assassin to the obvious offer. He knew better than to take an offered drink from an employer, after all you never know who wants to keep their money.

“Suit yourself,” the noble replied, “it is Saranen Brandy, and is of a good year.” The noble offered the assassin a glass again and the assassin waved it away once again.

After a few minutes of waiting the man returned and reported that he had sent out a few men to check on the body. About an hour after that a man walked up to the noble and whispered something into his ear.

“Well I guess everything is in order,” the noble said with a grin. The noble handed the assassin a bag and explained, “It is all there, count it if you wish.”

The assassin quickly counted the gold in the pouch and stood up, “Our business is at an end,” said he said, “lets hope we never meet again.” With that he turned and vanished back into the darkness.

He made his way back to the window, up and out, and to the roof tops again. Once again he looked out over the roofs and calculated the best path once again, this time it was to the small room he had purchased in a small hotel in the merchant quarter of the city.

Soon enough he was at he hotel in which the room was located and climbed back into the window he had climbed out of earlier that night. He quickly went about removing his weapons and armor, and after that his dark colored clothing. He placed his clothing into the wardrobe where he kept his various disguises and spare clothes. He placed his dagger into a special hidden compartment that housed his other weapons and his wide array of tools. He went over to the wash basin he had filled before leaving and got most if not all of the sweat and dirt washed away. He went back to the wardrobe and removed the clothing he had worn earlier to the hotel. He put on his black pants and red tunic both of fine material, as well as his specially made boots and gloves. He attached the his rapier to his belt, a weapon he didn’t much like, but was all the rage with nobles, and anyway he was at least moderately effective with. He grabbed a brush and tried to brush out the tangled mess, at least to make it a semblance of what it was before.

He looked at himself in the mirror and found himself to be a bit presentable, so he went to the door unlatched it and walked calmly out into the hallway, as he had done many times before, he turned and latched it once again and setting the trap that would hopefully prevent anyone from entering the room. He walked down the steps and out the door, saying goodnights to those he passed. He turned and left up the main road towards the castle. Hopefully I won’t be too late for dinner, I really don’t feel like lecture tonight, though Visac, son of Sendrid, Duke of Tellene.

[Tyranus]

I am sorry, I forgot to put review/critique in the headline.

Also this is my first draft of this, I got a new computer and unfortunately forgot to get the other rewritten versions off it, I have them printed though and I will take the time to type them up.


EDIT: Please note that this particular piece has gotten a new name for each rewrite, this is simply one of the ones that I can remember.

[Culhwch]

Well, I only read the first six or so paragraphs, because, to be honest, it wasn't really doing much for me. You say this is a first draft - how much have you changed since? The prose is quite clunky, and doesn't really flow that well. Take the very first sentence, for instance:

The assassin ran across the rooftops of the city of Tellene, he was following his prey, a short man who had done something to piss off some noble.

Read this out loud to yourself. Does it flow off the tongue? It doesn't flow on the page. It's basically two seperate thoughts in one sentence. Either join them together or seperate them entirely:

The assassin ran across the rooftops of the city of Tellene, following his prey, a short man who had done something to piss off some noble.

or

The assassin ran across the rooftops of the city of Tellene. He was following his prey, a short man who had done something to piss off some noble.


There are a number of sentences like this in those first few paragraphs that need to be redressed. (The description of why he was a target is an issue, too, but that's a whole other problem.)

There is a tense issue in the first sentence of the second par - the 'has' should be 'had'.

I think the main problem is that you are doing a hell of a lot of telling, and hardly any showing. Take a part of that sentence I mentioned:

...in fact he seemed to be paying much more attention to the alley way before him...

Firstly, the word 'seemed' has no place in discriptive prose. It's too vague. What is the prey doing? Are his eyes glued to the cobbles at his feet? Does one hand trail against a wall for balance? Does he look over his shoudler and stumble, his stomach suddenly in his mouth as a dark shadow falls over him?

My advice would be to go back over the work and expand on every point where you just tell us what is happening, making sure you show us the incidentals. Paint the picture with words. Describe, don't relate.

[Tyranus]

First off, let me say thank you. You are the first person who has read this to honestly critique it. I honestly expected something like what you said, and I am glad someone brought it to the light, after all how am I going to be able to improve if I never know what is wrong with my writing. Still you have my thanks, and so does anyone else who posts.

Second,

You say this is a first draft - how much have you changed since?

Actually it was changed a lot, quite a few problems were caught and changed. The first few paragraphs, all the ones you mentioned have since changed, and they bear little resemblence to the ones you have read.

[hellborn]

I quiet liked the peice but it could use a bit of tidying up in places where it sounds awkward, i suggest u get someone to read it out loud to you

[Culhwch]

Originally Posted by Tyranus

First off, let me say thank you. You are the first person who has read this to honestly critique it. I honestly expected something like what you said, and I am glad someone brought it to the light, after all how am I going to be able to improve if I never know what is wrong with my writing. Still you have my thanks, and so does anyone else who posts.

My pleasure. I always like to be honest, because I feel constructive criticism is invaluable, and that empty courtesy is nothing but harmful. But I always fear a negative reaction, so to be thanked is a pleasant surprise.

Actually it was changed a lot, quite a few problems were caught and changed. The first few paragraphs, all the ones you mentioned have since changed, and they bear little resemblence to the ones you have read.

I look forward to seeing those changes, once you get the chance to get them online. And glad I could help in whatever small way I could....

[Paradox 99]

Hi tyranus,
I'm pretty much in agreement with Culhwch concerning the structuring of your sentences. For the most part though, many of the errors I saw look like simple typos rather than clumsy methods (if that makes sense).

I found this a rather strange piece to read because 1) There were a few things about the writing that I would normally find a distraction and 2) The actual event you're writing about doesn't strike me as being a particularly interesting scenario.
But I found it strange because I did find it interesting and enjoyable.
It had atmosphere and a touch of grittiness which I found appealing; it made me want to read on.

To be specific about what I would usually find a distraction, it was the use (or rather lack of use) of names. You continually refer to the central character as "the assassin" and after a while I found that to be a bit repetitive. I imagine you have your reasons why you don't want to give this character a name at this stage, but I wonder if that reasoning is worth abandoning to get around this problem?

If it helps, I've pinpointed a few parts that I feel need amending too:

one of the poorest sections and largest sections of the city.

"one of the poorest and largest sections of the city" reads better I think.

after all few witnesses ever came forward

Feels like it needs a comma after "after all"

Thankfully his nameless prey has yet to see him after several minutes,

I think this is probably a typo as the "s" is right next to the "d", but you suddenly changed to present tense there.

hiding in an the shadows of a narrow alley the man would have to eventually pass.

He shrunk back against side of one of the buildings that helped to make the alley and drew his dagger and he waited, but it didn’t take too long before he heard rapidly approaching footsteps and heavy breathing.

This sentence is a bit clumsy. Would feel better with a period after "dagger" and drop the "and".

but he had no choice, but to keep going as he had no desire to die.

Lose that second "but"

The assassin stepped out from behind the corner, that was too easy, he thought.

Needs a period after "corner".

About and hour after leaving the man’s body

He crept slowly towards the light, using the several crates as cover.

Lose that "the"

He heard voices before he got too far, and one was obviously agitated, "Where is that assassin," it remarked, his voice had an impatient edge to it

I'd exchange the "his" for "the" in this case, as you've depersonalised the voice up until that point, and it would be consistent to keep it that way.

The assassin walked into the light, to stand before the man, who was definitely a noble, his clothes were dark, but made of the finest fabrics, the longsword at his side was purely decorative and the dagger opposite of it was much the same, and his hair was cit short which was now the style for those pompous bastards.

Wow, that's a long senetence! I think this should be split into at leat 3 sentences, possibly 4.

Between the chairs sat a small table, a glass bottle containing some kind of liquid sat upon it. The assassin sat down and the noble picked up the bottle and poured some of the drink into one of the glasses that sat near it.

The word "sat" got a bit overused there. Maybe something like this?
"Between the chairs was a small table, a glass bottle containing some kind of liquid rested on it. The assassin sat down and the noble picked up the bottle and poured some of the drink into one of the glasses that was placed near it."

"Our business is at an end," said he said

Oops - little typo there.

Hope that's constructive.

[Tyranus]

Err...yeah it took me awhile, but I lost the original when I switched computers way back when and forgot about it until I found the original printed version a month or so ago. So I recently rewrote it...and here it is:

The Noble


A shadow played upon the rough cobblestone path that made up one of the many alleys in the poor quarter of Tellene. Up and down it moved, a ripple upon the unmoving water of the darkened streets below. A balding man of ill repute ran along the path, moonlight glinting off his sweaty scalp, it gave him away all to easily. The man watched the road intently, trash was a given on these darkened ways, but drunkards, passed out and sprawled out on the stones, were also known to call these alleys home. He ran, on and on, never stopping, never resting. Pains grew in his legs and back, his breaths grew short, and his head pounded with every step, and still he ran, the prospect of death his greatest motivation.


The shadow flickered and jumped, raced forward and fell back, as if playing a mock race with the man, but this was no race. The shadow was just a shadow, the real danger lurked above, where few men bothered to look. An assassin danced across the rooftops, easily keeping pace with his lagging target.


Ryze, the assassin, had been slowly pushing the man to the location they were nearing for the better part of an hour, using pebbles to induce the illusion of presence in the directions he didn't wish the man to go. It worked surprisingly well. It also kept the coward in a heightened state of terror, which Ryze particularly enjoyed. He had been toying with him, but that time was over, it was time to finish the job.


Ryze crouched at the edge of one of a roof, not far from the shallow alcove where he would make the kill. He eyed his prey with cold calculation, his eyes measured distances while his mind changed it over into a time frame. A grim nod of satisfaction was all Ryze gave as he stood once more and began running ahead. Two roofs ahead at the edge of the alcove waited a coiled rope he had placed earlier that day. Upon reaching it he threw the rope down and quickly climbed into the shadows below. The man was easy enough to hear, his boots scuffed along the cobbles and his rapid shallow breaths were like thunder in the silence of the night. Ryze was almost proud of the man, a lesser being would have given in by now.

***

His lungs burned, as well as his legs and every other muscle as well. He had never ran so much in his life, strangely he didn't find it odd that the first time would be with a knife at his back. His head rushed with blood, it pounded with every step, but it still allowed him frantic thoughts, most of those were concerned about who had sent the assassin. The rest were concerned with how he would die, those were the fewest and he preferred not to think of it.

Why there was an assassin at his back was not a question, he knew why, he'd cheated too many people, it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out. Though he certainly hoped it hadn't run completely out. He hoped he might get away from the murderer at his back, get to the docks, or gate, or somewhere and lay low. It was a sweet idea, but one for another time.

A long step brought him over a particularly large bit of trash and his foot landed in something a little to soft for his comfort, a little too slick too. “Please don't let me die ankle deep in ****,” he gasped in prayer. He ran on, the desire for survival suppressing the desire to sink against the wall and rest, he shook is head, gulped some more air and continued on, but he was slowing, he knew it.

The man didn't note much of his surroundings, just the trash littered about on the ground, and that general vicinity, he didn't even bother to look in front of him. Needless to say he was a little surprised when he felt a thud against his chest that took him off his feet and onto his back. He wheezed, that was about all he could do, he had too little air to sigh, but if he did, he would have at the moment. His head raised ever so slightly to look at what hit him, there rising from his chest was a polished hilt, a deep reddish hue, it reflected the moon nicely. “Cherwood,” he muttered to himself, as his head slid back against the pavement. His hands slowly moved towards the hilt of the dagger, the pain was immense, but it did hurt not as much as he had always feared dying would. The thought of his death was more painful, covered in **** in the middle of a decrepit alley. A black shape stepped from the shadows in front of him and leaned next to him.

“Remember this in the afterlife, whoever you are, you died bravely, a coward would have broken long ago. Ask me for mercy and I will end it quickly, you shall suffer no more pain.” The assassin looked into the dull eyes of the man, they were rapidly fading, but they still held some life. The man moved his lips, though barely a sound came through, it was enough though, for only one word escaped: mercy. “Very well,” the assassin took a vial from his pouch and unscrewed it, pouring it into the mans waiting lips, “this is a very potent poison, it shouldn't take long, and you will feel no pain.” A look of peace came over the man's face not long after, and the light rapidly faded from the man's eyes. The assassin closed the man's eyelids and swiftly removed the dagger, avoiding the spray of blood that came with it, he wiped the blade on the man's tunic, and examined the dagger making sure all the blood was gone before slipping it back into it's sheath and standing up.

***

Not long after he was once again on the rooftops, this time heading for the dock's, or rather the warehouses on the docks. That was where he would meet his employer and gain the rest of his payment. It didn't take long to get there, where the streets was a veritable maze, the rooftops were a field, stretching along, clear in all directions. The buildings were of course in no way uniform, they all varied in height, but short leaps and minor climbs were much preferred over the hours it would take to get to the warehouse by the streets.

Ryze got there well before the appointed time, but he knew the man would already be there, a petty attempt to show the assassin just who was in charge. It didn't matter, he wouldn't officially show up until the appointed time anyway, perhaps he would show up a bit late to make him sweat a bit. He moved onto the roof of the warehouse, no easy task, it was a good distance away, but again he had prepared. A plank had been left earlier to push across the breadth between the roofs, with that he easily walked over and from there continued to one of the slim windows near the top, open as he had left it.

It was a tight fit, but he managed to squeeze through. He dropped down onto one of the crates only a few feet down, from there he climbed down to the floor, making sure not to make a sound, even the softest of which would boom in the silence. Or perhaps not, he could hear voices coming from the center, though he could not quite make them out. He moved closer, navigating between the mounds of crates and other materials, until he got close enough to get a good look at them.

One of the men was dressed rather flamboyantly, wearing brightly colored silks, his blonde hair sticking rather clumsily out of one of the ugliest hats the assassin had seen in his life. At his side hung a rapier, a rather dainty weapon, clumsy as well, perhaps even more so if the decorations covering the hilt and guard were any indication. The man stood with a bit of a hunch, obviously one not accustomed to standing for long periods. “A fop,” the assassin said to himself, a hint of disgust dancing on the end of his tongue.

The other, he was different. He wore armor, not the plate mail seen on knights, but rather chain and boiled leather, above which he wore a black surcoat, well worn. He wore no helm, nor did the assassin see anything of the sort around him. His hair was cropped in military fashion, more gray than the original brown. He sported a thick mustache and a a neatly trimmed beard, again more gray than dark. He was tall, well taller than the fop at least. One hand, the assassin noticed, rested on the pommel of the longsword at his side, the leather of its hilt stained with sweat from use. From the man's stance, Ryze surmised the man knew how to use the sword at his hip to most likely deadly effect. The guard wasn't much listening to the fop's incessant complaints, instead his eyes scanned the room watching for anything out of the ordinary.

Ryze had gotten close enough to make out the conversation between the two, which mostly consisted of complaints from the fop, whose haughty voice and manner identified him as a noble, and a series of affirmative noises from the warrior at his side.

“Damn it, that kill shouldn't have taken this long, he should have been here by now,” said the fop who was most definitely a noble. Ryze didn't much like nobles, pompous bastards, and he definitely didn't like this one.

The guard let out an exasperated sigh. “I am sure he will be here soon, sir. Unless of course the little bastard managed to kill him instead.” That last remark seemed to bite at the noble, who frowned narrowed his gaze at the guard beside him, to little effect, since the guard was scanning the room once more.

The noble, crossed his arms and began tapping his foot franticly before groaning impatiently. “If he doesn't get here soon he won't be payed at all.”

“Ah, but if you do that you will find my dagger residing in your throat,” said Ryze as he stepped from the behind the crates he was hidden behind and walked into the bit of light the two stood in. The mask that covered his face only allowed his eyes to show, and they were narrowed dangerously at the noble before him, who shrunk to the side of the guard. “Now, do you have my payment?”

“That depends, have you dealt with the problem,” replied the noble who had stepped away from his guard and was trying as best he could to assert dominance over the situation.

“Of course. Now the payment if you please.”

“Fine then,” he waved towards the guard who disappeared into the gloom. After a few seconds he returned with a small chest, which he presented to the noble, who pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it. He opened the lid and pulled out a bag, which he threw to Ryze. “It's all there, count it if you wish, its all there.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, but as much as I enjoy your company I think I shall take my leave.” Ryze turned and walked back into the shadows before speaking once more, “don't worry, if its not all there, we will meet again.”

Up and out the window and on to the rooftops once more, he turned away from the poor quarter and made his way towards the more prominent part of the city.

***

Not long after leaving the warehouse he arrived at the hotel he entered earlier that night, one of the many he had private rooms in and entered his room through the window he had exited from. With a few well placed taps he opened up several hidden compartments, and began removing his weapons and placing them into their respective homes, before closing the compartments once more. He did the same for his armor, outfit, and tools, before moving over to the large wash basin and washing most of the dirt and sweat away. From the large dresser that contained his normal clothes he removed the carefully folded garments that he had worn earlier upon entering the hotel.

He put on his black pants and red tunic, both of fine material, as well as his specially made boots and gloves. Upon his sword belt attached his rapier, a weapon he didn’t much like, but was all the rage with with the high class members of society. He was moderately effective with it, but kept a well balanced dagger at his side just in case. A look in the mirror showed a tangled mess of dark hair and a handsome face, he attempted to comb his hair into a semblance of what it was earlier, and was slightly successful, but gave up in the end.

Ryze took another glance in the mirror and found that he was at least presentable and headed to and out the door, making sure it was locked before heading down the hall, down the stairs, and outside. He greeted his fellow patrons along the way and thanked the man at the front desk as was customary. From the front door he turned towards the Duke's manor and hoped he wouldn't be too late for dinner, he was a bit too tired for a lecture and his father was a bit too fond of giving them. “Ah to be the son of a Duke,” mused Ryze, who was Visac, third son of Sendrid, Duke of Tellene and its surrounding lands.

[chrispenycate]

I fear I'm away on holiday at present, and can't do an exhaustive critique, but I'll put forward one or two suggestions
In

“Remember this in the afterlife, whoever you are, you died bravely, a coward would have broken long ago. Ask me for mercy and I will end it quickly, you shall suffer no more pain.” The assassin looked into the dull eyes of the man, they were rapidly fading, but they still held some life. The man moved his lips, though barely a sound came through, it was enough though, for only one word escaped: mercy. “Very well,” the assassin took a vial from his pouch and unscrewed it, pouring it into the mans waiting lips, “this is a very potent poison, it shouldn't take long, and you will feel no pain.” A look of peace came over the man's face not long after, and the light rapidly faded from the man's eyes. The assassin closed the man's eyelids and swiftly removed the dagger, avoiding the spray of blood that came with it, he wiped the blade on the man's tunic, and examined the dagger making sure all the blood was gone before slipping it back into it's sheath and standing up.

You use "man's" too many times (once without the apostrophe) - try some alternatives (maybe "victim" or something, just to break the repetition).
The earlier, nervous bit, while better than the first draft, still tends to long, somewhat convoluted sentences. While I like these in general, I feel shorter ones would give more tension.

Technical "plate armour" is not mail. There are numerous forms of mail, chain, scale, ring and I know I've missed some. And if the guy's wearing a surcoat over (not above) it, how can even an assassin see he's not wearing breast and back plate? Similarly, he might guess that the rapier is a "clumsy" weapon, but as long as it is sheathed, he can't be sure.
A general tendency for what are complete sentences to be separated by commas, instead of full stops, but I fear a complete punctuation analysis would take too long to do right now.

[Tyranus]

Thanks.

You use "man's" too many times (once without the apostrophe) - try some alternatives (maybe "victim" or something, just to break the repetition).

This is one of my biggest problems, I tend to just fall right into a zone where I use words repeatedly. Now the thing about this is it is part of the one I had begun rewriting earlier, but stopped one day and forgot about it. A lot of this was written last night, while some of it, including that part and the part about the armor, is older. Unfortunately I forgot to edit it. Oh and believe me about the repition, I spent a good twenty minutes editing out "he"s.

A general tendency for what are complete sentences to be separated by commas, instead of full stops, but I fear a complete punctuation analysis would take too long to do right now.

I will admit that I have a problem with commas, a particularly bad one. I always manage to use commas where there shouldn't be one. Quite a bit of the time I can catch them if I am paying enough attention, unfortunately I was half asleep at the time...

Technical "plate armour" is not mail. There are numerous forms of mail, chain, scale, ring and I know I've missed some. And if the guy's wearing a surcoat over (not above) it, how can even an assassin see he's not wearing breast and back plate? Similarly, he might guess that the rapier is a "clumsy" weapon, but as long as it is sheathed, he can't be sure.

Yeah, that is a large mistake there, I think I have been playing too many RPG's.

At his side hung a rapier, a rather dainty weapon, clumsy as well, perhaps even more so if the decorations covering the hilt and guard were any indication.

Although I do believe that the "clumsy" bit is just his opinion on all rapiers. (This is one of those old parts that I wrote months ago.) I think the guess was this: perhaps even more so if the decorations covering the hilt and guard were any indication.


Thank you for what you have posted so far, and I look forward to a full critique.