City of IF

[TruePurple]

. . . The shrill cry of a rooster pierces the dawn. John wakes up with a start. A large thud follows his fall onto the wood floorboards. Giving a large groan, he gets up then sleepily wanders down stairs to wash up and milk the cows. Struggling to stay awake he counts the splashes of the milk flying into the bucket. He shivers in the morning air. Suddenly the most delectable smell reaches him.
. . . "Breakfast!" he hollers in delight as rushes inside.
. . . "Now John," his mother reproaches, "Off with the shoes and wash up from milking ol mildo. You know better."
. . . "Right mom" he exclaims. After washing up he gives her a big hug and a kiss of thanks then sits down and started eating in a manner some of the pigs would blush to use. Approaching footsteps reveal John's groggy father who had uncharacteristically overslept.
. . . Mom clicks her tongue at dad in a disapproving fashion as he sites down to eat. After having eaten enough to quell his rumbling stomach dad looks at John trying to find the right words to something, not that John notices as he continues to chow down.

. . . "Son.. you know I only worry about you." dad begins nervously. John looks up at him with exacerbation in his eyes.
. . . His dad continues "those adventures you dream about, they're dangerous! I won't allow a son of mine to throw his life away on some pipe dream of being some big hero to some complete strangers when he's needed back at home." "You're needed back here" he says more gently "and you're staying here, Thats final..!" The words were both commanding and pleading.
. . . "I had to take those books away you know.." Dad glances at his son hoping to see some acceptance or at least understanding in his eyes... "Listen son. We scrapped and saved to put you through the best schools so you could be respectable and learn to defend yourself and your family. Not to die in some far off land trying to be some hero!" he almost bellows out.
. . . "you're of age" his father pleads. "I would love for you to take over the workings of the farm. You've proven yourself up to the task."
. . . John feels a mixture of frustration and sadness. 'Dad never understood my dreams' he thinks to himself. But says nothing and having finished eating starts to clear the table.

. . . Suddenly dad cheers up. "How has your sword fighting skills been coming along?" he inquires. "Learned that broad side slash move yet?"
. . . John groans and wonders to himself what the point of learning all this stuff if he's to be forbidden to use it in defense of the weak and needing. "Fine dad" John said hoping beyond hope that would be the end of the conversation.
. . . But it wasn't. "How about your magic. Have you learned that fire bell spell yet?"
. . . John gives his dad a funny look "That's fireball dad, and no we don't learn that till next semester."
. . . "Oh" says his dad having run out of things to talk about.

. . . John finishes washing the last breakfast dish as his mom walks in. "If you two are about done with the melodramas you're late for school John. You know how your teacher feels about tardy students"
. . . John glances up at the clock. Its going to be close but if he hurries...Carefully laying down the dish he's washing John dashes upstairs for his books then out the door crying out "I love you mom and dad" as he exits.
. . . His mom calling out after him to not forget to pick up more bread from Bermon the local baker.

. . . Arriving just as the giant school yard bell is crying out its first deep throated boom he scurries to his seat as his teacher hands out parchments. "You've had all fall to learn this stuff. this should be no problem for any of you."
. . . John looks unhappily at the pop quiz parchment but as he gets to work he realizes its all stuff he knew. Much of the day was like that. Most material had already been covered many times before and during sword practice, all the moves were ones he already knew by heart. As the school day draws to a close he glances wistfully out the window.. "Someday I'm going to make them all proud...." he says to himself. A moment of melancholy and love for his folks comes quickly over him then passes.

. . . 'The city is always so noisy' he thinks to himself... having forgotten how unwise it is to be lost in thought on such a busy road as he runs almost headlong into someone. As he comes out of the bakery with a large basket of delicious smelling, fresh from the oven, bread a most startling sight meets his eyes.
. . . A man, dressed in some very expensive chainlink, is chasing and hollering at a small boy of no more then 10 years of age. He shortly over takes the kid pushing him down then stepping on him. "You'll pay, you filthy thief!" The venomous anger and disgust in his voice sends shivers down Johns spine. The man pulls out his obviously very expensive sword and points it at the small boy.

. . . John, more out of reflex then thinking, quickly grabs a street sweeper and while pointing its round wooden end at the man charges and treating the sweeper as though it were a sword tries one of his better moves.. the round house side jab.. it is so ineffective that it wouldn't have mattered if the sweeper was a sword.
. . . The warrior grasps the wooden handle and uses the sweeper to shove John to the ground. John quickly pops up and tries to wrestle the sword out of the warriors hands.

. . . Sudden and blinding pain and dizziness comes to John as the warrior responds to this pathetic attempt with a hard punch(with metal gloves none the less) to Johns right eye.
. . . John stumbles down in a daze as the warrior looks at him with a mixture of anger and mirth at the ineffectual interference. "Stay out of this stranger. This boys a thief and he deserves what's coming to him."
. . . The small boy looks up, still pinned to the ground by the mans right foot, with a pleading look in his eyes.
. . . John feels real fear now. Along with terrible nausea from his eye wounds. Almost every fiber in his being told him to run. A small but strong part of him compelled him to stay. No matter what, he was not going to let that boy die. "NO!" John shouts who despite the blinding pain struggles to his feet.
. . . "Well you have no say in the matter boy." The warrior says as he raises his sword up in the air.


. . . They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. In that terrible moment of indecision as fear and compassion waged a silent swift battle within him it did. He thought of his family and how they would miss him. But he would not.. could not let that boy die. John flung himself over the boy holding the sweeper as a absurd shield to block the blow of the incoming blade.
. . . "So be it." says the exacerbated warrior. "You shall die with him" he says as he arcs his blade down upon the two. As the sword came down, jarring John's arms as it easily slices through the wooden handle of the sweeper.
. . . John closes his left eye in acceptance of the inevitable. Saying a quick silent prayer that his family might be well taken care of when he is gone, John braces himself..


. . . A loud resounding metal upon metal sound two inches from his face causes him to cautiously open his left eye again in curiosity.There in front of his face were two gleaming swords criss crossed. As he follows the shine of the second blade to its holder he sees a wondrous sight indeed.
. . . The paladin he saw was wearing a richly decorated suite with insignias and crests on it, Most of which he couldn't make out as the sun was shining down so brighly and glancing off all that metal that it nearly gave the stranger the appearance of being one step short of the sun itself.
. . . The paladin grows at the warrior. "Back off villain!" Giving a grunt as he struggles with his sword arm against the warriors two arms he shoves the warrior back. "What cause of violence do you have against these two that you would murder them in cold blood?" he inquires.
. . . The disgruntled warrior growls at the paladin "The little one is a bloody pickpocket and that youngster interfered, just like you did!"
. . . The paladin glances at the mans obvious wealth and narrows his eye's "You can get your stuff back but thieves must be brought to justice. No murdering, even of pickpockets will be allowed on my watch! Anyway its clear you can afford a small loss" was the paladins curt reply.
. . . "What right have you,a mere pleb, to decide what wealth I may lose?! I shall have my revenge, no one may pickpocket from the gerston goldmin the fourth!" at that gerston renews his lunge at the two and a sword fight ensues.

. . . As they fight John struggles to get up and to see with his left eye what is happening.
. . . The small boy still underneath him squirms out and runs off. As out of it as John is he can still see clearly this ignoble warrior is no match for our hero. With a magnificent grace and ease the righteous paladin counters every move of the murderous gerston's with ease as though the paladin knew the next move of his opponent before he himself knew.
. . . As they fought gerston exclaims "Why must everyone interfere with my business?"
. . . The paladin replies "The murder of small boys is my business scum."
. . . The wretched warrior bemoans "But that piece of garbage is a wretched thief!" As the paladin over comes gerston, he disarms him with a twist of his wrist then pushes him down and slams his plate gloves into the warriors plate helmet which rings like a bell. Then pushes the mostly unconscious man to two city guards, who like most of the town, had collected there to see what the commotion was all about.
. . . "Take him to jail for attempted murder." the paladin instructs the guards. The guards, with a slight bow of respect for the renown paladin, drag off the man. The victorious paladin then faces the crowd and gives a warning. "No murders will be tolerated on my watch"

. . . He then turns to face John who was barely able to stand up from all the excitement and exhaustion. He pats him on the shoulder. "That was a brave thing you did there son. We could use more with your kind of courage in our fight against the terrible things that threaten to hurt innocents like that boy."
. . . John could only look with wide eyes at the great paladin "Really?" (could only look wide eyed with his left eye)
. . . "You bet." the paladin assures him. Taking off his plate glove, he examines Johns right eye. "Are you alright?" paladin inquires with compassion in his voice.
. . . "I'll live" John insists. The paladin nods understandingly and throws him some coins. "You should see a healer about that eye." he suggests. "Now if you will excuse me I have business to attend to" the paladin explains as he leaves.

. . . The excitement of the events combined with the nauseating pain of his increasingly swelling right eye so that John might take it no longer. He quickly runs to the nearest bush and pukes his guts out. As he comes back quite exhausted to get his basket of bread he saw the little boy from before.
. . . The scamp is stealing his bread! John almost gave chase but thought better of it and called after him.."ingrate!" Walking over to the single last piece of bread and after brushing off the liberal amount of dirt that had collected on it shoves it in his pocket. He then begins walking home. Half the time half running from the excitement of everything that had happened. Half the time barely able to move at all and collapsing numerous times in exhaustion. As he approaches his farm house he decides to leave out details of his attempted heroism to his folks. While for all the world he wanted to brag about what he had tried to do he knew his father and mother would only disapprove of his reckless endangerment of his life.


. . . John spends all the next day sleeping off his massive injuries. The healer assured his folks he would make a full recovery though. That night his father caught him looking out at the night with his left eye and touching him on the shoulder he gives a heavy sigh. "I suppose nothing I can do.. especially now could ever dissuade you from becoming a foolhardy hero." His voice sounded sad and defeated.
. . . Without taking his eyes off the horizon, John responded "no dad. you don't understand.."he started to explain but his dad hushed him.
. . . "I understand better then you think son." Dad paused a moment in thought. "I never showed you this before because i didn't want you to get ideas.. but it seems you already have those ideas"
. . . John glances from the starlit sky to his dad.. "whats that.." he starts to ask and notices a beautiful medallion in his father's hands. Reading the print on the medallion he notices text containing the motto of the silver serpent. Carefully taking the beautiful medallion from his father, John feels its weight.. examines its soft velvet purple ribbon. "What does it mean?" John inquires his father.
. . . Dad paused a moment in thought before replying "Its a medal son,... my medal..."
. . . Suddenly he had Johns full attention "Your med..." he inquires.
. . . "Both me and your mom used to be silver serpent paladins." dad started to explain "She had just started and I had seen many a battle....The last battle with a terrible evil had cost me my best friend and compatriot....and my foot." His dad took off his left shoe revealing a wooden prosthetic. "As he fell so did the axe he carried." his father continued with the story "Your mother fought off a horde of orcs to come to my rescue. Her first aid and magic saved me from dying as I had lost alot of life force fluid. (his mother slips into the room) She took care of me after the battle nursing me back to full health.....We fell in love." Father gives a long wistful sigh recalling the bitter sweet memories. "Then she made the ultimate sacrifice, a promising carrier as the most powerful warrior the silver serpents had at the time to live with me on this farm."
. . . Mother comes in from behind and wraps her arms around them both, giving John a bit of a startle and a jump such was his concentration listening to father tell his tail."It was worth it and I regret it not one bit" She lovingly told them both giving them both a mighty squeeze, leaving the two a bit breathless. "best decision I ever made" She exclaims.

. . . "So you see John" father continues. "I do understand alot more then you realize. I feared you having to deal with the heartache and sorrow that comes with being a hero and I feared the day some silver serpent wearing the garbs of mourning comes to my house to give me your shield and sword with his head hung low. It was with love that I protected you from such peril.
. . . But listen son" his father says gently "I do love you" Tears start to swell up in fathers eyes."And I am proud of you, don't you ..ever.. think otherwi..se" Fathers voice starts to break up at this point."And if you want to join those ranks and be the great hero I know you can be then do so, you would be going with my blessings" His father beams at him with tears streaking down his face.
. . . Mother gives them both another gigantic squeeze and a peck on their cheeks. "Well I'm glad we have that nonsense over with. Lets go downstairs and enjoy some chocolate cookies and milk." John was somewhat crying himself, these were tears of joy.
. . . "I'd love that mom" He croaks out then follows her downstairs to the kitchen.

. . . John spent a few weeks more recovering, doing the daily chores going to school and putting his affairs in order. It was with a sad but hopeful heart that he waves good-bye to his folks as he sets out on the road to find out what adventures that might await him and good deeds he might render in the service of others. Some day.. he hopes and prays.. I'll come back having removed the last evil and assisted all those in need. I'll come back.. to home.. don't worry mom and dad... I wont forget you...

. . . Mom, though separated by distance from her son, whispers to herself in a strange knowing way... I know son.....I know..

(Father hearing her whisper to herself :"what's that honey?" mother: "Oh nothing. Get back to work you lazy bones" She chides him.)

[DeadManWalking]

not bad

a couple grammar mistakes, and some story things, but I'll hash that out with you in chat

it has potential

[The Meaning Of Fear]

F5 that... This has potential.

However, some of this is REALLY bothering me. Most of this doesn't make much sense at all. If his parents want him to lead a normal life... Why in tarnation would he be learning swordplay and magic?

I also notice many, many minor errors. While one or two wouldn't matter, with this many it really serves to remove the impact from your story. Such errors include wrong usage of [your] where the word [you're] is appropriate, and some confusing grammar mistakes concerning speech marks.

I hope you write more chapters for this soon... It really seems quite good, you just need to fix up some and maybe put some restraints on your imagination so it all makes sense.

[TruePurple]

I never said normal life, they didn't want him to run out and get himself killed. Plus he was needed on the farm to a certain degree(though possibly just a excuse to keep him out of danger)

Thats not inconsistant with them allowing or even wanting him to learn skills that he can use to protect himself and his loved ones in the future. I'm not sure why you think it is. Plus I'm sure at some point they would like for him to follow in their footprints at some level, they just fear for him too because of their love for him.

from the text wrote: "Listen son. We scrapped and saved to put you through the best schools so you could be respectable and learn to defend yourself and your family. Not to die in some far off land trying to be some hero!"

That doesn't make sense to you? Just because you teach your kid how to use a gun for example, doesn't mean you want them to run off and join the military or a risky police position, don't you see?

Any other parts that don't make sense to you?

What are these "grammer errors with speech marks" you speak of? You mean quotation marks? I used them when ever anyone was speaking. I also broke up any longer talk into two quotes, where a breath might be drawn. And a reminder that it is speech. Is this what you speak of? Whats wrong with that?


I made a number of spelling corrections and so forth.

P.S. What does F5 that mean? Is that like, "copy that"/I agree?

[The Meaning Of Fear]

Yeah, F5 means I agree...

About the quotation marks, what I meant was that they weren't really being used correctly in conjunction with other ones (At least from my point of view).

An example would be:

Quote: "you're of age" his father pleads. "I would love for you to take over the workings of the farm. You've proven yourself up to the task."

Most of this sentence is grammatically correct, and the only part where I see an error is in the beginning of his father's speech, where you end without another punctuation mark, namely a comma.
Also you've forgotten to capitalize the Y but that's nothing.

Quote: I also broke up any longer talk into two quotes

Also, about your breaking up longer talking into two quotes... Is the sentence below an example of that?

Quote: ...when he's needed back at home." "You're needed back here" he says more gently...

You've put the two bits of speech together without a break in between but with seperate quotation marks, and while I understand why you have done so it is not considered grammatically correct. An easy way to solve this would be to simply move the latter part of his talking down, or put the speech in the same sets of quotation marks (It'll mean just what you intended it to). You don't need to intentionally seperate two sets of quotes for a breath the character might be taking; that's what full stops and commas are for.

Like I said before, these are only minor problems. However, my personality simply cannot leave these unmentioned. Sorry if I seem to be a bit of a pest.

Looking foward to the next chapter.

~Holds Breath~
:shock: