This is the story I will be submitting for the Competition. I would REALLY appreiate your help, especially since this is for a contest. If you don't mind, just tell me how you feel. Constructive criticism is the best way to better myself as a writer, and that is what I am aiming to do with this story. Thanks and enjoy the tale...


Prologue

As I peacefully sat at my hardwood desk, reading a borrowed-copy of “Children of the Sky”, someone came knocking at the front door of my house in Godsreach, Mournhold, at eleven o’clock at night no less. I placed the fine read on the table with bookmark in place, and walked towards the door. The peacefulness had been broken, for now at least, and I was already in sleeping clothes; which happened to be light blue cloth pants and a thin shirt to match.

I couldn’t imagine why anyone in their right mind would be knocking at someone else’s door at this hour, not to mention being out-and-about this late at night to begin with. And I didn’t dare think it to be someone of danger to me simply for the fact that I, unlike many of my special and unique profession, am a liked man.

When I peaked through the eye-hole at the top of my door, which I cleverly thought up and installed immediately upon moving in, I saw a male Dunmer dressed in fancy crimson-red attire. He was holding in his left hand a brightly lit torch, and in the other a manila-colored envelope.

After opening the door I gave the elf a curious look, and he did his best to give me a friendly and warming stare. But that was not the case; I could easily see the truth. He didn’t really even want to be here, and it was likely he hated his job, and I knew exactly what that job was. It was his attire that gave it away; he was a courier for King Helseth.

“Yes?” I said, a little embarrassed by my sleeping garments.

“I come with a letter from Lord Helseth, sir,” The Dunmer announced, giving me a little bow in the process

I took the letter from the elf, handed him a couple of gold coins, and then closed the door as he walked merrily down the street, having an end to a not-so-bad night after all. And then I sat down, moved the book from its resting position, and replaced it the envelope.

Inside was a letter with the usual extravagant lettering and seal that held it together. After getting past all of that I held the message in my hand, and even read it aloud to be sure I read everything carefully.

Dear Louis,

I would like to once again thank you for your help with the Telvanni issue. That was by no means an easy task to accomplish, and you dealt with the problem like the professional being you are. But unfortunately there is something else that has come up, thankfully not involving the Telvanni this time. I wish to speak with you first thing tomorrow morning if you would, the matter is extremely important. I apologize for the inconvenience of bothering you this late at night, but I simply could not wait any longer.

Hlaalu Helseth

So he needed me again, eh? I supposed I really shouldn’t be too surprised. After all, I did handle that Telvanni situation rather well now that I think about it. It only makes sense to hire me again for another mission. But will I accept that proposition? I don’t know…it’s likely. There’s not much else to do anyway. In fact, I came here all the way from my homeland in Cyrodiil specifically help King Helseth and his Royal Court. Because of my background he thought of no one else besides me.

But perhaps I should give you that historical background before continuing? Yes, I believe I should…

My name is Louis Marquardt, son of the late Bartimus Marquardt. I come from a family of Bretons living closely together in a small settlement called Summer’s Watch, which is still alive and running in Western Cyrodiil. As a child I enjoyed a great education given to me by the local scholar, and I’ve learned the ropes of the Imperial government. I know it like the back of my hand, which I think is one reason why Helseth originally hired me in the first place.

At age 27 I became an ‘inquisitional-agent’ of sorts, working for various clients across Cyrodiil, and even a few across the Morrowind border. I work for those who need my help in investigating various things, and I’ve also been known to do some free-lance government work as well thanks to my sharp education.

I started out with a job of investigating a crime in which someone had stolen a painting belonging to the Countess of Chorrol, Lady Valga. I was lucky my first job was with one of such prestige, for Lady Valga was obviously an important person. I believe played a huge role in my quick success. Everything went well during the investigation, actually exceptionally well now that I think about it. I found the culprit in one day, a female Redguard, and was given a handsome reward for my troubles.

After that word of my work spread across the land. Apparently Valga’s influence was pretty big with the people of Cyrodiil, and suddenly I had many from all over coming to me asking for help. At first I tried to take on all offers, which was a terrible mistake. I simply had too much on my plate, and the quality of my work began to suffer. So I quit working for just anyone, and instead focused on the more prestigious clients. They paid the most after all. You can call me money hungry, but really, who isn’t deep down inside?

At the ripe age of thirty-five, what landed me the job with Helseth was having accomplished several jobs just across the Morrowind border. A Dunmer land lord was having trouble with money, and it came to be that it was his wife that was stealing everything. And it just so happened that the Dunmer was a good friend of Hlaalu Helseth, and therefore I moved my business to the city of Mournhold; Or King Helseth to be exact.

A Telvanni mage had, at least in Helseth’s mind, acted funny at a trip from the Azura’s Coast region of Vvardenfell. Helseth thought perhaps that the Telvanni had done something wrong, and after checking his office, realized a few documents had been stolen. Well, to make a long short, the Telvanni did in fact steal the documents, and claimed to have ‘picked the wrong papers’ during the meeting. The situation was easily sorted out, and Helseth let it go.

That was two weeks ago, and since then the King had not spoken another word to me. He offered 50,000 septims in exchange for my service, and I of course didn’t argue with that. I bought my house, settled down, and ultimately decided to stay in Mournhold. I like the atmosphere here, and the people are nice. I figure even if I don’t get a lot of clients, I could retire any time I wanted to since I had plenty of money, besides what Helseth awarded me. And so far I have done just that.

And now for the past two weeks I’ve been holed up in this town, drinking and a lot and caring a little. I never was much of a drinker back in Cyrodiil, but here it seems like ‘the thing to do’, if you know what I mean. All the big-shots go to the local pub in the evenings and talk [censored], like they know everything there is to know about everything. It gets annoying at times, but the drinks make up for it.

Hession does a wonderful job of keeping out the bad-people, and she also provides the best of quality drinks Tamriel has to offer. The place was a rich one, mind, you and that is what I think keeps out the beggars and lazy, good-for-nothing alcoholics. Although recently I’ve heard that I fall under the description of the latter. A few days ago I got into a shouting match with another patron of the pub, The Winged Guar. It didn’t really escalate into much, but people tell me I was pretty drunk, something I seem to have taken a habit to here lately. Oh well, I didn’t consider it a problem, only a ‘guilty pleasure’, if you will.

Once I read a few more chapters of my book I stumbled upstairs and sat at the edge of my bed. I looked at the dresser drawer and a half-empty bottle of flin. I took the bottle and downed it in a couple of seconds. It wasn’t a big deal; the bottle wasn’t too large to begin with. That was the evil of flin; tastes really good but you don’t get much, and therefore you end up buying more. That’s probably why they’re so high in price. Damn sellers…..

CHAPTER ONE

I woke up the next morning with a minor headache, but that wasn’t a big deal. I don’t think it had anything to do with the alcohol I drank last night; I mean, hell…I only had seven bottles yesterday evening. I think it was rather the fact that I finally fell asleep at about one in the morning, and here I was now rising at six in the morning. I really needed to get more sleep that I was already receiving.

When I walked pass my mirror I noticed how awful I looked. It was the first time I had seen myself in more than three days. Man was I looking shabby; my medium-length dirty-blonde hair was going every where and looked to be very nappy as well. My usually-clean shaven beard was now ruffled, and I have to admit I somewhat resembled a Nord and their wild ways. Sort of ironic since I’ve been reading “Children of the Sky”, eh?

But I didn’t have the time to worry about my looks at the moment. Helseth wanted to see me bright and early, and I didn’t want to keep him waiting. Like I said before, Helseth was by no means a patient person; especially with in came to his bad case of paranoia, but that’s something I’ll explain later.

I walked over to my clothing closet, and opened the great wooden doors. Inside was a plethora amount of different pants and shirts of all kinds of colors. It didn’t take me long to choose what I wanted to where this morning, and I picked a nice cool-blue outfit. Blue signifies calmness, and that’s what I like to wear to business occasions. I sometime to a few looks because of my clothes, but I don’t mind it that much. Besides, I can normally be found in regular attire anyway.

Stepping out into the fresh morning air, the aroma of something quite pleasant was coming from The Winged Guar; no doubt a good breakfast Hession always cooks up for the early workers. Also, the skies were clear of everything except sunshine coming from the sun itself, which was already more than half way into the sky. Things were looking good, and I just hope the meeting with Helseth would prove to be as positive.

Upon entering the lobby-area of the Palace, the usual guards stood next to the door, of course saying anything or moving a muscle. They stood like a statue, firm and strong. It was an aspect I learned to respect and admire. None of the Imperial Legion guards in Cyrodiil seemed to be this well trained and behaved.

“May I help you, Mr. Marquardt?”

Effe-Tei, the Palace’s Argonian receptionist, was standing before me with a smile widening from ear to ear. I had always thought well of Effe, simply because he was a very kind soul. He was always there to help me find my way through the Palace’s many confusing hallways and areas.

“Good morning, Effe. How are doing this fine morning?”

“Good as always, Mr. Marquardt! Yourself?”

“I’ve been better, but I think I’ll live. I was given a letter last night, and I believe Lord Helseth wishes to speak with me?”

“Ah, yes. If you’ll follow me Mr. Marquardt, I’ll show you to the King’s office. He wanted to speak with you as soon as possible, and he’ll be happy to find out that his wishes have been granted. Come with me, please.”

The friendly Argonian began to waddle his way into another corridor, and I followed him. The lizard moved quite fast and I had to step my usual speed of pace just keep up with him. We climbed a set of stairs, passed five sentry guards, and finally walked down yet another corridor, this one with fancy and expensive paintings hanging on the wall. At the end of the hallway was decoratively designed door, with two more guards standing still with their traditional Adamantium shortswords hanging threateningly at this sides.

Effe knocked on the door with his green scaly claws, and I heard Helseth’s voice from within the heavily guarded room “What is it?”

“Mr. Marquardt is here, my lord. May he come in?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

The door was unlocked with a key and opened by one of the guards, and before I stepped inside the room I thanked Effe for his help. He bowed low to the ground and then returned to the lobby area. Then I walked through the doorway, and a guard closed it shut behind me and locked it back again.

“Tight security, eh? Seems a little paranoid, even for you…”

You might think for a second that my tongue is a bit harsh with its words, or a tad bit disrespectful on top of it. No worries, however, for Helseth enjoys my sarcastic attitude. I think it reminds him of his self.

“There are reason for that, my friend, which is what I’m summoned you to my Palace in the first place. Please, have a seat.”

He motioned at a chair resting I front of the large desk he was now sitting at. I placed my bottom into the velvet cushion and quickly got as comfortable as possible. Something told me I was in for a long ride.

“So, judging by the tone in your letter I see you’re a little worried about something?” I asked, hands folded in my lap.

“Yes, Louis, something is jabbing at me deeply. I fear a conspiracy is brewing up here in Mournhold…one that involves a plot to assassinate me, along with a total takeover of the Royal Court.”

Inside I was rolling my eyes, for I’ve seen this out of Hlaalu more than once before. Like I mention earlier, Hlaalu Helseth is easily the most paranoid individual I’ve ever met, and believe me when I say this, because I’m met hundreds of people who believe they are going to be killed, kidnapped, etc. But Helseth takes this hysteria to a whole new level, and even goes to length at forming a plan to fight against the opposition, only the opposition is never there. As far as I know the people have respect for the King. They might not agree with everything he does, but they still admire the way this city is run.

“My lord, I don’t believe there is anyone ‘plotting’ against you. As I’m sure you already know, all the gossip-geese go to the Winged Guar. I am there everyday and not once have a felt a hint of treasonous-thinking. I don’t mean to sound rude if I do, but it’s all in your head, sir.”

After I was finished Helseth slapped a dirty, crumpled parchment onto his desk. He then looked at me a serious tone and said, “Explain this, then, if you will.”

I picked up the parchment and read it aloud:

Five o’clock tomorrow, right? Sorry for my impatience, I just can’t wait to talk about it. The King will never know what hit him. His selfish and arrogant life will come to end soon enough. No longer will he think little of the little people, ha ha ha!

It was just a simple note, but what it contained was certainly a bit disturbing. Though I wasn’t about to over exaggerate. I’ve seen this play out plenty of times before. People make petty threats and never go through with them. That’s what this whole world is about if you ask me. Plus, this note could be five, six, seven years old. Judging my the material of the paper it didn’t look fresh, that’s for sure. Also, the use of the words ‘ha ha ha’ tell me that the author is not a serious-minded person, and probably just another beggar talking crazy-[censored].

“I know what you’re thinking, sir, but we must think rationally.”

This Helseth did not agree with in the least.

“Rationally? Rationally? My life is threatened in that very piece of paper and you want to me to think rationally?”

He was raising his voice and was also starting to get a little irate with his tone. But this I see all the time as well. Usually when you life is being threatened you aren’t too happy of a person. But I, as a professional, always keep my cool in these situations.

“There are several things that stick out me, sir. Let me explain them, if I may.”

The King sat down in his seat, still angry but also ready to hear my own explanation to this matter.

“First of all, among several other things, the paper looks to be at least five years old. You can barely make out the lettering without having to squint your eyes. I’d say this is something that was written a long time ago, just to release some angry fumes.”

He didn’t agree with this theory either. “There are many holes in that suggestion, Louis. They don’t have to write on brand-new paper, do they? Of course not; they could’ve simply written on the first thing they found, and this was it.”

“Ok, you’re right. But how does that explain how old the ink appears to be, hmm?”

“It must have been through rain or something along those matters,” he said simply.

“Alright, fair enough. But the way this letter is composed makes me believe the author isn’t serious about his plans. Someone attempting to end the life of a King must be intelligent and wise. This person, by using words such as ‘ha ha ha’, leads be to believe this person never had any intention of carrying out their plan, if they ever had any that is.”

“I don’t think that matters one bit, whatsoever. Can you honestly sit here and tell me that every single would-be-murderer or thief has been intelligent and wise?” He had a point. I indeed could not say that. “Do you remember Lord Venicus, near the between Morrowind and Cyrodiil. His life was taken away by a mere beggar, one that fought his way through three bodyguards plus a guard dog as well. Even if we are talking about a simple beggar, you should not understand their skill, Louis. I would think a professional such as you would already be aware of this.”

The King was starting to irritate me. Of course you can not underestimate a beggar, but Lord Venicus lived in an isolated farming settlement, not a damn Royal Palace!

“Very well, it seems you really believe in this so-called conspiracy. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to investigate this matter for me, Louis. It is of great importance that you find the conspirators and put an end to this madness. I would like to take them alive, but if that is not an option you have my consent to do what is necessary to accomplish the mission.”

“Alright, that sounds fine. Do you have any leads, other than the note I mean?”

“No, but I found this piece of parchment in Bosmora; actually just outside of the local pub. I was visiting a friend of mine, and after having a few drinks I left the pub, only to find the note lying on the ground next a rock. Don’t ask me why I picked it up, for I can not give you an answer, but you can see it was good thing I did.”

“I will travel there and conduct a set of questions to ask the locals. Thankfully that place isn’t too large, and if there really is a resistance to your position, I shall find it swiftly.”

“Thank you, Louis, I knew I could count on you. Do you know how long it will take you?”

“I’d say no more than a few days, five at the most, but I doubt it. I’ll leave around noon today, after I have lunch and pack my things. May a use the courier’s horse this time as well?”

“Of course, I’ll see to it that she’s fed and rested for the trip.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“No, thank you. Good luck in your inquiries, and I hope to hear from you soon.”

If I may say so, I feel like too much of chapter 1 is being told in dialogue--you know, the whole "show, don't tell". This is just what I notice first... I'll try to read more deeply and get back to you with some other comments in a bit.

Edit: I'm not sure that the introduction does much for me. Some details are included that seem extraneous, while others that should be there seem to introduced unnaturally.

Overarching thought (if such a thing is possible, so early in a story): what are the stylistic consequence of having your character narrate, in past tense? I think that means that you can include some nice writerly detail (the reader sees that the main character is actually writing the story. But I think that also means that you need to keep your audience in the narrator's head... so big stretches of mostly dialogue, without commentary by our star, probably ought to be avoided.

Positive note: Character has good potential, and a real history. But I think you "told" us more about his personality than he has actually "shown".

So those are my two cents. I hope I've been helpful, and I haven't been helpful I hope I haven't come off as a total spotted owl.

But yes, this is early...

I respect your opinion, but there's nothing to show just yet.

I actually enjoy the heavy dialogue. Sure, perhaps Marquardt doesn't show too much emotion here, but what should he show? Annoyance? Rolling his eyes at all the paranoia. Remember, he is trying to be polite and bussines-like. (despite the few bits of sarcasm.)

Anyway, from what I've seen so far, the protagonist appears to be a guy who easily falls into temptation. Everything was great in his life, but he still became an alcoholist, just because the stuff tastes so great. On the other hand, he also shows signs of an analytical mind. Just look at how he interpreted the letter. So in short, there is plenty of potential with him.


Edit: I forgot to mention, but it sometimes feels as if you type too fast for your own good and accidentally skip a word. For example
What played a huge role? Going off on the context, it was either his great luck with that first assignment.(everything went perfect.) Or, it was the prestige he got from helping the countess that brought in all those requests later.

There's certainly potential but your introduction needs reworking. The opening moves too slowly, you have a lot of unnessesary information and, in my opinion, use too many adjectives which hurts the pace. Also the first lines are rather ponderous:

"As I peacefully sat at my hardwood desk, reading a borrowed-copy of “Children of the Sky”, someone came knocking at the front door of my house in Godsreach, Mournhold, at eleven o’clock at night no less. I placed the fine read on the table with bookmark in place, and walked towards the door. "

Personally I would consider the following:

'peacefully sat' whenever you use an adverb ask yourself if a stronger verb would be better, maybe use relaxed or lounged?

also consider whether what the reader gains from knowing the book is borrowed (and even its title) and that the desk is hardwood or the advantage of 'fine read' over 'book' when balanced with the loss of pace. Bear in mind that in the opening you have to grab the reader so everything should be tight and fast, you can ramble more once you have the reader caught.


‘But perhaps I should give you that historical background before continuing? Yes, I believe I should…’ This sort of line can have a negative effect on the pace too, it announces that you are going to have a large stack background information. While I agree this is nessesary it may be better to keep it to a minimum and hide it as best you can. On the other hand it develops the tone of the story very effectively.


The story itself seems sound so far and the characters certainly have potential but I think you should look at its pace and perhaps cutting information which is less relivant. I see potential and will certainly read the next update so keep at it.

PS - the above is just my opinions but you said you wanted a fuller critique so these are my thoughts.

Thanks everyone for your comments, I apreciate it, I really. But I am going to stop this, as I don't like it at all. It's not going anywhere, it's broing, not exciting, etc. I'll start something else soon....

You sure? That seemed to have promise. It's only a first draft remember - you have till the end of April so there isn't any rush. All the comments people have made so far seem easily fixed to me.

Having said that, if you aren't enjoying writing it then stopping is probably the right thing to do. Just don't put excess pressure on yourself to create something perfect straight away. A story is never great in the first draft, it attains greatness after rewrites and copious amounts of editing

Oh it has nothing to do with what people have said. Yes everything can be easily fixed, but it's just not fun to write, it's too boring, I'll come up with some a little more exciting later, something I haven't done yet.

Wow, I sure love commas...

I understand. When a piece feels more like work than it does fun... hard to stick with. And not really desirable.

Thanks Canis, it's good to hear that coming from someone who's a talented writer himself.