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6/24/2025, 6:24:47 AM
!!o+larHYE/0w/tg/95441002#95664537
5/16/2025, 11:23:12 PM
>>95652028
>The way some of the guys in the Guild hate these merchants for their privileged upbringing brings a pang to my heart. I know I put it all behind me now, but part of me worries about what the other guild members would think if they knew of my past.
Okay, so I'm not actually angry, but when else am I going to get to use this pic?
I think your main flaws are exactly as you identified them: a tendency to simply list events one after another. But it's more than that, the way you present information is very direct; it could use a little more creativity. For example, if I rewrite one of the paragraphs:
>Darkness creeps into the sky as the sun slips under the horizon. We sneak into the back garden of the house, looking for a useful window. There, second story - the grappling hook catches first try. Temmy's fingers brush against the hilt of his dagger.
>That gets us in, but the bedroom is likely another floor up, and the necklace in a strongbox by the sleeping couple. Luckily, Temmy and I are quieter than cat in silk pyjamas; the squeakiest of floorboards don't so much as whisper as we pass. They're in there alright; we hear Donovan's snores from all the way down the hall, or at least we think so. When we get there, it's his wife who's hacking away like a sawmill. Temmy takes a step forward but I put my hand on his arm; no sense risking both of us, and I'm the one with the lockpicks. Every aspiring Guild member thinks they can pick a lock, but just try doing in the dark without the little bits of metal clicking and clacking and giving you away. Fortunately the lady of the house provides me some cover; with those lungs she missed her calling as a singer, although I can't think anyone but a moose would find her tuneful.
>I lift the lid like its my firstborn, and try not to gasp. There they are: the blue diamond necklace, and a couple of jewelled rings. Mine now... well, ours. I creep back to Temmy, and we slip out back the way we came.
>The way some of the guys in the Guild hate these merchants for their privileged upbringing brings a pang to my heart. I know I put it all behind me now, but part of me worries about what the other guild members would think if they knew of my past.
Okay, so I'm not actually angry, but when else am I going to get to use this pic?
I think your main flaws are exactly as you identified them: a tendency to simply list events one after another. But it's more than that, the way you present information is very direct; it could use a little more creativity. For example, if I rewrite one of the paragraphs:
>Darkness creeps into the sky as the sun slips under the horizon. We sneak into the back garden of the house, looking for a useful window. There, second story - the grappling hook catches first try. Temmy's fingers brush against the hilt of his dagger.
>That gets us in, but the bedroom is likely another floor up, and the necklace in a strongbox by the sleeping couple. Luckily, Temmy and I are quieter than cat in silk pyjamas; the squeakiest of floorboards don't so much as whisper as we pass. They're in there alright; we hear Donovan's snores from all the way down the hall, or at least we think so. When we get there, it's his wife who's hacking away like a sawmill. Temmy takes a step forward but I put my hand on his arm; no sense risking both of us, and I'm the one with the lockpicks. Every aspiring Guild member thinks they can pick a lock, but just try doing in the dark without the little bits of metal clicking and clacking and giving you away. Fortunately the lady of the house provides me some cover; with those lungs she missed her calling as a singer, although I can't think anyone but a moose would find her tuneful.
>I lift the lid like its my firstborn, and try not to gasp. There they are: the blue diamond necklace, and a couple of jewelled rings. Mine now... well, ours. I creep back to Temmy, and we slip out back the way we came.
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