Stones (Part four: Strange Magicks)

Fantasy written by Lone_Witch on Friday 11, December 2009

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Description
Our opens up his stolen package.

Overall Rating: 87.95%

This writing has been rated by 4 members, resulting in a rating of 87.95% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:92.25%
Imagery:89.75%
Spelling & Grammar:82.25%
Flow/Rhythm:87.25%
Vocabulary:88.25%
The day was full of surprises but not one as eccentric as this. Thoughts and explanations were jumbled as the thief attempted to come to a conclusion about what was happening. Was this some spell put on the palace stores? No. If that were true then the guard would all be looking for an elderly man not a young pickpocket. Never before had he been so shocked and confused. So many thoughts and concerns rushed threw his mind that he had forgotten that he was standing outside of the southern gate. It took one of the guards outside to remind him to move along for his feet to start working again. Still as he walked slow and troubled he could still hear them, "Batty old man." His feet shuffled along the road heading to the slums district of the city. He had walked the roads so many times that he could have done it blindfolded during the busy daytime. Now all of the citizens were tucked into their homes; none of them knowing the strange events that were taking place outside. Our thief had ran over every possibility in his mind. So many troubles came to reveal themselves. No one would recognize him, no one would believe him, and he now would die an old man at a young age. Soon he came upon the slums, its dirty streets and broken down houses littered with trash said hello to a long time occupant, and the thief sat down upon the gutter holding his head in his hands. The feel of his own skin was foreign to him. He no longer knew who he was or exactly what he looked like, but the thought of finding a mirror was horrid to him. He could not bring himself to even look down at the reflecting waters pooled beside the gutter upon which he sat. Depression and woe took over him, and the thief began to weep. A thing that he had not experienced in a long time. His dirge could be heard a mile off, but still the answers that he sought still alluded him. No lament could bring them forth, and with this fact known, he discontinued his mourning. There was a pulsing in his chest, and although the thief tried to dismiss it as his own stressed heart, he could not ignore the fact that it was coming from outside of his now withered body. His eyes grew wide and his mind raced as he remembered the little package tucked away inside of his tunic. Quickly he reached into his inside pocket and fished out the little forgotten package. He still did not fully understand what had compelled him to choose the dingy wrapped up item in the first place when he was surrounded with so many treasures. But none the less, he had picked it up and ran as fast as he could. Was what was tucked away inside the dirty cloth making all of this mischief come into play? It seemed as if it was the only explanation that he had yet to think of. And so he carefully unwrapped it. It seemed like the folds of the cloth would go on forever. Whatever was wrapped up inside was very small and most likely worthless. "Just my luck," he thought, "not a cent for my troubles." What plopped out into his hand was indeed small but more valuable than the thief could have imagined. It was a small red ruby. It shone with a beautiful glow that that could only belong to a stone that was filled with something special. Filled with magicks. Those of the theft trade needed to have an eye for things such as this, and our thief new that he could most defiantly fetch a fare price with the little stone. But first the mishaps at hand needed to be taken care of. Whatever had taken place was the cause of the stone. He did not doubt it at all. Before selling it to an unlucky buyer he would have to find a way to reverse the effects of his unlucky circumstances. And that meant holding on to the cursed thing for a while longer. Names of people filled his head, but only one man that he knew could possibly be able to help him, but getting him to believe him without the man steeling the stone would be the problem. Sitting outside of the slums in a gutter was the last thing that could possibly benefit him now, and so he rose with a new hope and strode down the road into the center of the district were the houses resided. Dame'l was a man that was hard to find and even harder to talk to. Although, the thief had known him ever since he was a child, the man was so elusive that no one could keep up. Dame'l was the best known thief in the slums. If anyone knew about the magicks in the stone, it would be him.
   

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Comments

    It's going well.

    the story keeps you interested in what is to happen next.

    well done Smile
    so far, so good.
    Nicely done. Please continue.
    Getting better and better.