Jalil the Mercenary

[Jazzmosis]

Okay, after a long writer's block from City of the Damned (http://www.rpgforums.net/showthread.php?t=139079), I decided to write a short FanFic based on a Act 2 mercenary's perspective. This is very different to my first story, which is what I was going for. It's a little rough on the edges, but I hope you enjoy it.

Any and all comments are welcomed.

[Jazzmosis]

Jalil and His Master

Each one of us knew that eventually our turn would come, that we would be called into action beyond the unexplainable safety of Lut Gholien’s walls. No foe that resided in the desert outside had ever attempted an attack, some had come within feet of the entrance, but with our staffs pointed at them, they would simply mutter in an inhuman tongue and wander back into the desert.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it is as if we, the men hired to protect this city, were unnecessary. There seemed to be an unspoken pact between us and the monsters outside - not to attack unless the heros hired us to go into their turf.

It was never the other way around. Ever.


One by one, I had watched some of my comrades get hired by these heroes. Warriors, knights, sorceresses - the heroes came in all forms. Occasionally, the heroes would come back to Lut Gholien through their mysterious portals, or through the ancient waypoint nested in the city square. But more often than not, they informed our commander that their hired fighter had died. Some of them died in ways simply unimaginable to me. We loathed being hired, but we knew it was why we were here. And we knew that eventually, we would be called on.


And when my day arrived, I didn’t know how to react. A small team of heroes marched into the city, coming from the Rogue’s Encampment. One visited the commander, inquiring about mercenaries. She was beautiful, to say the least. She had long, flowing hair that was hidden only by a metal cap. Her armour was rustic - a silver, interwoven protector that covered her torso. In her hands she grasped an enchanted staff that was nearly as tall as she was. And her eyes - her glorious sky blue eyes gave me hope for the salvation of good. Her name was Flazie. And when she selected me, out of the ten or so of us standing around - my heart skipped a beat.

“What’s your name?” She asked, her voice soft and soothing to the ears.

“Jalil.” I responded, feeling myself relax in her presence.

“What is your specialty?”

“I know a freezing aura. Slows the enemies down as they approach us.”

“Fantastic. You’ll come in handy.”


And so we had met. She was an incredible woman - fearless and beautiful. I followed her as she went through town, from merchant to merchant.

“What armour do you have, Jalil?” She asked, looking at my ragged clothes.

“Just these.” I responded, looking to the sand beneath my feet.

“Nonsense. You won’t last two seconds in that.” She commented, and pointed at some armour the merchant was displaying. She handed it to me, complete with a metal cap for my head. “This is for you. Put it on.”

I looked at what my owner had bought me. The armour was incredible, the sunlight gleaming off it’s polished surface. As quick as I could, I dressed myself in it. “Thank you.” I said, surprised at my master’s instant generosity.

“Speak nothing of it, Jalil. The monsters drop hefty amounts of gold upon death.” She remarked, and then faced me. “How about your weapon?”

“I use this.” I handed her my spear. “It’s all I’ve ever been trained with.”

“This is trash.” She told me, and threw it away. She approached another merchant, and promptly bought me a new spear. It was made of harder wood, and the tip was a sharp metal. And all around it, an eerie glow.

“Is it enchanted?” I asked, perplexed.

“Yes. It will help you kill stronger enemies by sending an electrical shock when you strike them.”

I admired the weapon as she met up with the other heroes.

And in an instant, she took me into the desert, complete with the other warriors. I had never seen anything but the inner city.

The first set of enemies approached - small little creatures that walked on four legs, and jumped around the heroes, snapping their teeth and waving their front claws at us. I was reluctant to attack at first, watching in awe as my master released a cryptic orb of ice that killed one immediately. With that show of confidence, I attacked another, driving my spear through its back. My first kill.

From there the team of heroes travelled, with me always near Flazie’s side. When we rested in the desert at nights, she would tell me tales of the battles near the Rogue’s Monastery in the west. Each story she told me was fascinating - she had lived a life of heroism I could only dream of.

She and the team wandered farther and farther into the desert, new enemies attacking and failing as they travelled. Over the months we fought, making periodic trips back to Lut Gholien through the portals and the waypoints the heroes found in the desert, I grew to love Flazie. I knew that I would never have her for a wife. How could I? What did I have to offer? I was but a lowly mercenary, unskilled and unimportant. I was nothing but another faceless ally - one she had undoubtedly seen many of through her travels with the other heroes. So I never told her how I felt, content with just the friendship her and I had. I had been blessed to know her, let alone fight for her.

It was the day that a strange darkness overcame a ruined city the heroes and I were exploring that I first felt fear for my own survival. I had heard of my comrades dying out here, but I had yet to see any of their corpses in the sand. It was that day that I saw the first one. The group casually dismissed his death, one of them even searching his rotting carcas to find anything of value. I pushed him away, angered.

“Leave him be! His soul has suffered enough!” I yelled at the large hero,
who sported the largest axe I’d ever seen in my life.

“Shut up, you. Go help your master.” He retorted, pushing me away and resuming his desecration of my comrade’s belongings.

I turned away and held back tears, trying to avert the image of his torn stomach, my own comrade’s insides spilling and drying in the sun. I went to Flazie, hoping to find comfort in her voice, her looks.

“What’s wrong, Jalil?” She asked, sensing the pain on my face.

“It’s nothing. . .” I responded, looking to the ground.

“Is it Cargel searching your dead friend?”

“Yes.” I wanted to mourn my lost comrade, to bury him. But I couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, Jalil.” Flazie said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “We lose friends and comrades sometimes. It is the price we pay in fighting for the Light.”

Her words, and her touch, soothed me so. Letting a single tear fall down my cheek, and feeling her hand wipe it away, would have given me the strength to overcome any foe in the desert. But she clutched me, wrapping her arms around my body, holding me against her in a sympathetic hug.

“It’ll be okay - I promise.” She whispered calmly. “You have been more help then you’ll ever know.”

How I loved her. How much joy she gave me in such a dark time will remain the biggest secret of my life.


We searched the abandoned city, until we found a temple hidden outside the ruins. Two stone snake statues stood over the entrance, but the heroes ventured in fearlessly. I followed my lover in, scared to face the evil inside, but afraid to face the desert without her.

Ungodly creatures attacked in every hallway, snakes, skeletons, apparitions, and gigantic, raven-faced summoners that brought the skeletons back from their ruins.

The heroes overcame them all, some sustaining minor injuries. Together we went through the temple, cleansing it from the foes, until we found the staircase leading to the deeper level.

The heroes raged through, screaming and battling an onslaught of snakes and skeletons. There must have been more than fifty in that small chamber. They attacked relentlessly, striking at the heroes flesh, and nearly killing the warrior with the axe. We managed to break through the wall of enemies, fighting towards the centre of the chamber. I followed Flazie, attacking anything that came near me or her.

It was when the heroes attacked the enchanted snaked known as “Claw Viper” that all hell broke loose. Each strike the heroes landed, Claw Viper released a spray of lightning bolts, bolts so powerful that it burned bones on contact. I, with the heroes, fought the snake, each bolt that hit me weakening me. And when the final flow struck Claw Viper, he exploded.

The heroes survived, the axed warrior sustaining critical injuries and he rushed to open a portal and find the healer in Lut Gholien.

I staggered, the other heroes jumping into the portal after gathering the amulet they seeked. Flazie, my lover, was about to enter when she saw me, stumbling around the chamber.

“Are you okay, Jalil?” She asked, her soft voice echoing gently off the walls.

“I’m sorry. . .” I gasped, turning to face her. She put her hand to her mouth at the sight of me.

Piercing my chest was one of Claw Viper’s long fangs. The sharp fang had broken my armour, and had broken many of my ribs. I felt no pain - I was in too much shock to feel pain.

“By the Light!” My master exclaimed as she hurried to my side. I fell to my knees beside her. “Jalil! Hold on Jalil!”

I watched her hands scramble to her belt and pull out a potion filled with red liquid.

“I’m sorry. . .” I repeated.

She poured the potion down my mouth. “Don’t die, Jalil! Hold on! Hold on to the power of the Light!”

I reached my out for hers. She grasped my hand tightly, and I dropped onto my back. “Flazie. . . it pierced my heart.”

“Don’t die, Jalil! No, please, don’t die!” She shrieked, pulling out another potion.

“It’s okay.” I responded, my voice faint. “I could have never asked for a better life.”

I saw her blue eyes well up with water, as she shook her head. “I won’t let you die. These potions will heal you. Please!”

I knew it was too late for me. I no longer feared dying. “Knowing you has been more of a blessing in my simple life, Flazie. Thank. . .you.”

She wrapped her hands around my body. My vision became blurry and I could feel blood filling my lungs. “I need you, Jalil.” She wept.

I used my last strength to hold her to me, until I passed from that world.

My love wept over my passing away. She carried my body through the portal, and took it to a small corner of Lut Gholien, where I was buried. Flazie mourned my passing, before leaving to fight for the good of the Light once again.

I never feared my death when I was with her. I know that the Light gave me her tears to ease my passing. I was never her equal, but now, even after the desert was cleansed by her group of heroes and they travelled to Kurast to fight once again, every now and then she takes a boat back and stops by my grave.

How I love her, even in my passing.

[Slashco]

I liked the story. If I were to make any criticisms, maybe you stick a little too close to the game mechanics (in places I felt like you were just describing the gameplay word for word). With fiction based on games, it's okay to take a little artistic license to make your world more lifelike. Also, how is this mercenary telling the story if he's dead? Is he a ghost, or something? Other than that, not bad at all. Keep at it, you can only improve. :)

[Jazzmosis]

I know it's a little game-play strict, but I had to keep it short because I tend to write longer stories usually.. so leaving it close to the gameplay eliminated the need for explanation.

And he's the narrator.. you could say he's a ghost, or whatever.. he's just reflecting on the end of his life. Ghost? I suppose.. but saying that implies he's floating around.. he's just.. a dead character narrating his love..

Thanks for the comments, they really help!

[RevenantsKnight]

Interesting idea...the whole concept of having the story told posthumously, as well as the focus on a "minor" character in the larger scheme of things, is pleasantly different from the cookie-cutter DII hero story. As previously mentioned, this story sticks to the game pretty firmly, but it does so in a more original way than having a player character rampage his/her way through the quests. While there were a few points where I thought that it sounded a bit too much like game screenshots, they were never common enough to be a real annoyance. Your story overall reads very well; despite a fair number of grammatical and spelling errors, I never felt overly bogged down in your writing.

However...this story feels too short and undeveloped to really stand out in my mind. Granted, the story's told from Jalil's perspective, but Flazie gets almost no character development. Jalil should probably remember at least a few instances where Flazie’s attitude towards him starts to go from friendly to loving, and adding in several of these moments would help add more to her character. As it is, the emotional changes just seem to fly out of nowhere, or be at the very least leaps of faith. Such jumps are hard on a story's credibility; if you added more to connect these events, I personally would find the story much stronger. Also, some proofreading and careful attention to grammar would help clear up minor stops in your writing. With a little more work, I'd say this could be very good indeed.

Specific comments:

No foe that resided in the desert outside had ever attempted an attack, some had come within feet of the entrance, but with our staffs pointed at them, they would simply mutter in an inhuman tongue and wander back into the desert.

There are a few grammatical issues in this block, though thankfully such errors are generally a rarity in this piece. After "attack," there should be a period or a semicolon, since the two clauses the comma's linking are complete sentences. Also, the plural of "staff" is "staves." Also, I'm pretty sure Act II mercs use spears, not staves.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it is as if we, the men hired to protect this city, were unnecessary. There seemed to be an unspoken pact between us and the monsters outside - not to attack unless the heros hired us to go into their turf.

The first sentence is one of the few parts that seem out of place in this story and better suited to the game itself. Perhaps he's had time to reflect on what the city guard actually accomplished, seeing as he's dead, but I have a hard time believing that he didn't rationalize his, and his comrades', presence as something useful, since he did appear to have a bond with some of them, and probably would recoil at the idea of them dying in vain. Also, the plural of "hero" is "heroes."

One by one, I had watched some of my comrades get hired by these heroes. Warriors, knights, sorceresses - the heroes came in all forms. Occasionally, the heroes would come back to Lut Gholien through their mysterious portals, or through the ancient waypoint nested in the city square. But more often than not, they informed our commander that their hired fighter had died.

That's four sentences with three uses of the word "heroes." Try not to repeat the same word over and over again in a short period of time unless you want to draw special emphasis to it, which doesn't seem to be the case here. As it is, it breaks up the flow of your story a little. Also, the city is spelled "Lut Gholein."

She was beautiful, to say the least. She had long, flowing hair that was hidden only by a metal cap. Her armour was rustic - a silver, interwoven protector that covered her torso. In her hands she grasped an enchanted staff that was nearly as tall as she was. And her eyes - her glorious sky blue eyes gave me hope for the salvation of good. Her name was Flazie.

This is a good start, but Flazie could use some more description. I gathered that she's a sorceress, but as a general rule, it's not a good idea to leave the appearance of major characters to the game's images; otherwise, they feel like replacable characters churned out of the "new hero" machine. So, to avoid this, work on creating an image of your own for the reader. Why does Jalil find her beautiful? How tall is she? What color is her hair? How does she carry herself; does she have a proud bearing, or a more humble air? If you weave details like this into your story, it'll go a long ways towards making your characters more memorable.

“What’s your name?” She asked, her voice soft and soothing to the ears.

“Jalil.” I responded, feeling myself relax in her presence.

If you have a quote with a question mark or exclamation point and the next thing you’re writing about is who said it, the next word ("she" in this case) isn't capitalized unless it's a proper noun, etc. Also, end quotes with a comma, not a period, if you're continuing along in this vein.

I looked at what my owner had bought me. The armour was incredible, the sunlight gleaming off it’s polished surface. As quick as I could, I dressed myself in it. “Thank you.” I said, surprised at my master’s instant generosity.

Umm...I know very few self-respecting people who would describe other people as their "owner." "Master" works, but "owner" in particular is just too self-degrading in my mind, even if Jalil did come to think that Flazie was the only good thing in his life. I'd find a synonym for that in this instance. Also, "it's" is a contraction of "it is," while "its" is used to indicate possession. A final note here: since you describe Jalil's actions in the third sentence, it should read "As quickly..." instead of "As quick..." Adverbs modify verbs (dressed in this case); adjectives modify nouns.

And all around it, an eerie glow.

I get what you're trying to say here, but this isn't a complete sentence, as there's no verb. There needs to be at minimum something like "there was" before "an eerie glow," and you could also describe the aura somewhat to help the reader's imagination along.

And in an instant, she took me into the desert, complete with the other warriors. I had never seen anything but the inner city.

The second sentence here seems just thrown in for the heck of it; if you want to talk a bit about what Jalil had seen of the city or the outside (which is a good idea), you need to put a few more sentences in so that this doesn't seem extraneous. Give that sentence a reason to be at the end of the paragraph.

She and the team wandered farther and farther into the desert, new enemies attacking and failing as they travelled.

“Traveled” has one “l.”

Over the months we fought, making periodic trips back to Lut Gholien through the portals and the waypoints the heroes found in the desert, I grew to love Flazie.

Why? Even though this sort of change is common enough and therefore believable, you’re still asking a lot of your reader to just throw that out there with so little else told. What is it about her that drew him to her? After all, these reasons should stick in his mind. Also, what is her attitude towards him? You describe it as “friendship” later, but that’s a very broad term; it couldn’t hurt to go into greater depth with a few specific examples of their interactions.

The group casually dismissed his death, one of them even searching his rotting carcas to find anything of value. I pushed him away, angered.

“Carcass” has a double “s” at the end.

I turned away and held back tears, trying to avert the image of his torn stomach, my own comrade’s insides spilling and drying in the sun.

I understand what you mean with “avert,” but it doesn’t quite work here. People can avert their eyes, but they can’t avert an image, since they aren’t capable of physically turning it away. I think something like “trying to banish the image of his torn stomach from my mind” would work better, though it would also necessitate rewriting the next clause. Also, “spilling” needs a preposition, since his organs are more accurately spilling out of him, and he’s in the sunlight.

How I loved her. How much joy she gave me in such a dark time will remain the biggest secret of my life.

This is much better than the first time he says “I loved her” because there’s a concrete example that the reader can go from to that conclusion. Obviously, you can’t just cut and paste the preceding part into the earlier part of your story, but if you make something similiar (though probably less intimate), Jalil’s declaration of love will be a lot more believable.


It was when the heroes attacked the enchanted snaked known as “Claw Viper” that all hell broke loose. Each strike the heroes landed, Claw Viper released a spray of lightning bolts, bolts so powerful that it burned bones on contact. I, with the heroes, fought the snake, each bolt that hit me weakening me. And when the final flow struck Claw Viper, he exploded.

This bit of text has a number of grammatical issues. “Snaked” isn’t a noun, unless Jalil’s using it in a new way, so “enchanted” can’t modify it. In the final sentence, “flow” seems like a typo; did you mean “blow,” or were you using that to describe a burst of fire or lighting directed at him from one of the heroes? Also, is Fangskin the only creature of his kind down by the altar? If he is, then it makes sense to refer to him as “Claw Viper,” but if he comes with a pack, as in the game, then this label turns confusing. Overall, this part could benefit from some revision, both for reasons of grammatical correctness and clarity.

I staggered, the other heroes jumping into the portal after gathering the amulet they seeked.

“Seeked” should be “sought.” Don’t ask me why that’s the case; English is just weird like that.

I reached my out for hers. She grasped my hand tightly, and I dropped onto my back. “Flazie. . . it pierced my heart.”

You’re missing a word (probably “hand”) in the first sentence after “my.”

I knew it was too late for me. I no longer feared dying. “Knowing you has been more of a blessing in my simple life, Flazie. Thank. . .you.”

“More of a blessing” than what? You’re setting up a comparison here with “more of...”, but you don’t compare knowing her to anything else.

I was never her equal, but now, even after the desert was cleansed by her group of heroes and they travelled to Kurast to fight once again, every now and then she takes a boat back and stops by my grave.

“Traveled” has one “l” in it.

On the whole, I like the idea and the basic framework of this story, and I think it could get even better with more detail and development. Keep at it...this is good so far.

[Jazzmosis]

Alright, thanks for the tips - I've corrected most of the mistakes made (like missing word (hand) or blow/flow.) I'll repost the story once I've finished cleaning it up and extended it to allow for more development. However, travelled and traveled can be spelt either way, neither is incorrect.

Just a few notes: I wrote this piece around 1-2:30 AM, and posted it basically raw. Typically I'll edit most but in a state of sleep deprivation, it just threw it out. My fault, mistakes are fixed.

Also, I was trying to keep it a bit short, although your suggestions make sense and I will expand on the characters and perhaps push away from the gameplay-like realm of the first draft.

Thanks.. stay tuned, cause I'll post a revised draft.

[Jazzmosis]

Okay, with the changes made and some more added on, here it is. It's still quite short, but I extended it by about a page.

Jalil and His Master


Each one of us knew that eventually our turn would come, that we would be called into action beyond the unexplainable safety of Lut Gholein’s walls. No foe that resided in the desert outside had ever attempted an attack since I had been posted there. Some had come within feet of the entrance, but when we pointed our spears at them they would simply mutter in an inhuman tongue and wander back into the desert.

My comrades before me had worked tirelessly to keep this city safe, and since those battles, it seemed as if my newer comrades and I were unnecessary. There seemed to be an unspoken pact between us and the monsters outside - not to attack unless the heroes hired us to go into their turf. It was never the other way around.


One by one, I had watched some of my comrades get hired by these heroes. Warriors, knights, sorceresses - they came in all forms. Occasionally, these champions of combat would come back to Lut Gholein through their mysterious portals, or through the ancient waypoint nested in the city square. But more often than not, they informed our commander that the fighter they hired had died. Some of them died in ways simply unimaginable to me. We came to loathe being hired, but we knew it was why our commander stationed us here. Naturally, my comrades and I knew that eventually we would all be called on to fight.


And when my day arrived, I didn’t know how to react. A small team of heroes marched into the city, coming from the Rogue’s Encampment. One visited the commander, inquiring about mercenaries. She was beautiful, to say the least. She had long, flowing hair that was hidden only by a metal cap. She was shorter than I, and her crisp brown skin had remained soft despite the harsh sun and brutal battles she had faced previously. Her armour was rustic - a silver, interwoven protector that covered her torso. In her hands she grasped an enchanted staff that was nearly as tall as she was. And her eyes - her glorious sky blue eyes gave me hope for the salvation of good. She stood firm and commanding - almost intimidating. What gave her innocence away was the gentle smile on her smooth lips. She was perfect. Her name was Flazie. And when she selected me, out of the ten or so of us standing around - my heart skipped a beat.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice soft and soothing to the ears.

“Jalil,” I responded, feeling myself relax in her presence.

“What is your specialty?”

“I know a freezing aura. Slows the enemies down as they approach us.”

“Fantastic. You’ll come in handy.”


And so we had met. She was an incredible woman - fearless and beautiful. I followed her as she went through town, from merchant to merchant.

“What armour do you have, Jalil?” She asked, looking at my ragged clothes.
“Just these.” I responded, looking to the sand beneath my feet.

“Nonsense. You won’t last two seconds in that.” She commented, and pointed at some armour the merchant was displaying. She handed it to me, complete with a metal cap for my head. “This is for you. Put it on.”

I looked at what my new master had bought me. The armour was incredible, the sunlight gleaming off it’s polished surface. As quickly as I could, I dressed myself in it. “Thank you.” I said, surprised at her instant generosity.

“Speak nothing of it, Jalil. The monsters drop hefty amounts of gold upon death.” She remarked, and then faced me. “How about your weapon?”

“I use this.” I handed her my spear. “It’s all I’ve ever been trained with.”

“This is trash.” She piped, and threw it away. She approached another merchant, and promptly bought me a new spear. It was made of harder wood, and the tip was a sharp metal. As I put my hands around the spear, a quick rush of energy entered my body, my blood warmed, and small pieces of static skipped off of the spear, dissipating into the desert air.

“Is it enchanted?” I asked, perplexed.

“Yes. It will help you kill stronger enemies by sending an electrical shock when you strike them.”

I admired the weapon as she met up with the other heroes.

As they spoke amongst each other and walked through to the city square, I admired my master. She walked so soft on the sand, barely leaving a footprint. Her long, brown hair wisped in the air, caressing the exposed part of her neck and massaging her shoulders gently. And in an instant, she took me into the desert, complete with the other warriors.

At first the light of the sun overwhelmed me - I had never ventured far from Lut Gholein’s outer walls, where there was shade to hide near and keep us cool. Out in the barren desert, the sun beat down on myself and those who accompanied me. There was no shade, no city walls to keep me safe. It was just the team and I, alone.

The first set of enemies approached - small little creatures that walked on four legs, and jumped around the heroes, snapping their teeth and waving their front claws at us. I was reluctant to attack at first, watching in awe as my master released a cryptic orb of ice that killed one immediately. With that show of confidence, I attacked another, driving my spear through its back - my first kill.

From there the team of heroes travelled, with me always near Flazie’s side. When we rested in the desert at nights, she would tell me tales of the battles near the Rogue’s Monastery in the west. Each story she told me was fascinating - she had lived a life of heroism I could only dream of.

She and the team wandered farther and farther into the desert, new enemies attacking and failing as they travelled. Tirelessly they pressed on, stopping to rest only when absolutely necessary. I killed when I had to, but to the rest of the team I was but an extension of my master’s body. And I was no match for her. I watched her fight each day, marvelling at her exquisite form. I tried to emulate her, to learn what made her that much more superior to the creatures we faced. The nights when the heroes rested and Flazie kept watch for enemies, I stayed awake to accompany her. Perhaps it was my pride, or my growing dependence on her presence, but I could never sleep when she was keeping watch. Each night we talked endlessly, as our relationship grew from a simple mercenary and his master to a friendship. She told me tales of the Rogues heroism in the west, the sad fate of their monastery, and her exploits against the demon known as Andariel. I listened intently to every story, every word. I delighted in her stories - she had seen a world I would never know. I would watch the words roll off her tongue, her innocent smile when she looked at me, the way her hair flowed down her shoulders when she removed her cap - it was heavenly.

Over the months we fought, making periodic trips back to Lut Gholein through the portals and the waypoints the heroes found in the desert, I grew to love Flazie. I knew that I would never have her for a wife. How could I? What did I have to offer? I was unskilled and unimportant to her survival. I was nothing but another faceless ally - one she had undoubtedly seen many of through her travels with the other heroes. So I never told her how I felt, content with just the friendship her and I had. I had been blessed to know her, let alone fight for her.

It was the day that a strange darkness overcame a ruined city the heroes and I were exploring that I first felt fear for my own survival. I had heard of my comrades dying out here, but I had yet to see any of their corpses in the sand. It was that day that I saw the first one. The group casually dismissed his death, one of them even searching his rotting carcass to find anything of value. I pushed him away, angered.

“Leave him be! His soul has suffered enough!” I yelled at the large hero, who sported the largest axe I’d ever seen in my life.

“Shut up, you. Go help your master.” He retorted, pushing me away and resuming his desecration of my comrade’s belongings.

I turned away and held back tears, trying to irradicate the image of my own comrade’s torn stomach spilling and drying in the sun. I went to Flazie, hoping to find comfort in her voice, her looks.

“What’s wrong, Jalil?” She asked, sensing the pain on my face.

“It’s nothing. . .” I responded, looking to the ground.

“Is it Cargel searching your dead friend?”

“Yes.” I wanted to mourn my lost comrade, to bury him. But I couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, Jalil.” Flazie said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “We lose friends and comrades sometimes. It is the price we pay in fighting for the Light.”

Her words, and her touch, soothed me so. Letting a single tear fall down my cheek, and feeling her hand wipe it away, would have given me the strength to overcome any foe in the desert. But she clutched me, wrapping her arms around my body, holding me against her in a sympathetic hug.

“It’ll be okay - I promise.” She whispered calmly. “You have been more help then you’ll ever know.”

How I loved her. How much joy she gave me in such a dark time will remain the biggest secret of my life.


We searched the abandoned city, until we found a temple hidden outside the ruins. Two stone snake statues stood over the entrance, but the heroes ventured in fearlessly. I followed my lover in, scared to face the evil inside, but afraid to face the desert without her.

Ungodly creatures attacked in every hallway, snakes, skeletons, apparitions, and gigantic, raven-faced summoners that brought the skeletons back from their ruins.

The heroes overcame them all, some sustaining minor injuries. Together we went through the temple, cleansing it from the foes, until we found the staircase leading to the deeper level.

The heroes raged through, screaming and battling an onslaught of snakes and skeletons. There must have been more than fifty in that small chamber. They attacked relentlessly, striking at the heroes flesh, and nearly killing the warrior with the axe. We managed to break through the wall of enemies, fighting towards the centre of the chamber. I followed Flazie, attacking anything that came near her.

It was when the heroes attacked the enchanted snakes known as “Claw Vipers” that all hell broke loose. Each strike the heroes landed, the champion of the Claw Vipers known by ancient scriptures as Fangskin released a spray of lightning bolts, bolts so powerful that it burned bones on contact. I, with the heroes, fought the snake, each bolt that struck my body weakening me. And when the final blow struck Fangskin, he exploded.

The heroes survived, although the axed warrior sustained critical injuries and was rushed to open a portal and find the healer in Lut Gholein.

I staggered, the other heroes jumping into the portal after gathering the amulet they sought. Flazie, my lover, was about to enter when she saw me, stumbling around the chamber.

“Are you okay, Jalil?” She asked, her soft voice echoing gently off the walls.

“I’m sorry. . .” I gasped, turning to face her. She put her hand to her mouth at the sight of me.

Piercing my chest was one of the destroyed creature’s long fangs. The sharp fang had broken my armour, and had broken many of my ribs. I felt no pain - I was in too much shock to feel pain.

“By the Light!” My master exclaimed as she hurried to my side. I fell to my knees beside her. “Jalil! Hold on Jalil!”

I watched her hands scramble to her belt and pull out a potion filled with red liquid.

“I’m sorry. . .” I repeated.

She poured the potion down my mouth. “Don’t die, Jalil! Hold on! Hold on to the power of the Light!”

I reached my hand out for hers. She grasped my hand tightly, and I dropped onto my back. “Flazie. . . it pierced my heart.”

“Don’t die, Jalil! No, please, don’t die!” She shrieked, pulling out another potion.

“It’s okay.” I responded, my voice faint. “I could have never asked for a better life.”

I saw her blue eyes well up with water, as she shook her head. “I won’t let you die. These potions will heal you. Please!”

I knew it was too late for me, but I no longer feared dying. “Knowing you has been blessing in my simple life, Flazie. I now know why the Light put me on this world. . . thank. . .you.”

She wrapped her hands tightly around my body. My vision became blurry and I could feel blood filling in my lungs. “I need you, Jalil.” She wept.

I used my last strength to hold her to me, until I passed from that world.

My love wept over my passing away. She carried my body through the portal, and took it to a small corner of Lut Gholein, where I was buried. Flazie mourned my passing, before leaving to fight for the good of the Light once again.

I never feared my death when I was with her. I know that the Light gave me her tears to ease my passing. I was never her equal, but now, even after the desert was cleansed by her group of heroes and they travelled to Kurast to fight once again, every now and then she takes a boat back and stops by my grave.

How I love her, even in my passing.

[RevenantsKnight]

Well...this is better, but there are a number of things that I suggested previously that still hold. In general, your extra passages do accomplish a lot in terms of description, imagery and richness of text, but a number of rather simple mistakes went unfixed. Also, some of the additions include more grammatical/spelling errors; if you’re going to post a new draft, it’s best if you proofread it yourself first, just out of courtesy to the folks you’re asking for feedback.

More comments, some new, some old:

My comrades before me had worked tirelessly to keep this city safe, and since those battles, it seemed as if my newer comrades and I were unnecessary. There seemed to be an unspoken pact between us and the monsters outside - not to attack unless the heroes hired us to go into their turf. It was never the other way around.

One by one, I had watched some of my comrades get hired by these heroes. Warriors, knights, sorceresses - they came in all forms. Occasionally, these champions of combat would come back to Lut Gholein through their mysterious portals, or through the ancient waypoint nested in the city square. But more often than not, they informed our commander that the fighter they hired had died. Some of them died in ways simply unimaginable to me. We came to loathe being hired, but we knew it was why our commander stationed us here. Naturally, my comrades and I knew that eventually we would all be called on to fight.

That’s four uses of the word “comrade” and three uses of “commander,” if you count the instance in the third sentence after this block of text. This is the same problem as with “heroes” before; use some synonyms and broaden the story’s vocabulary, and it’ll flow better. As it is, it gets tired fast.

And when my day arrived, I didn’t know how to react. A small team of heroes marched into the city, coming from the Rogue’s Encampment. One visited the commander, inquiring about mercenaries. She was beautiful, to say the least. She had long, flowing hair that was hidden only by a metal cap. She was shorter than I, and her crisp brown skin had remained soft despite the harsh sun and brutal battles she had faced previously. Her armour was rustic - a silver, interwoven protector that covered her torso. In her hands she grasped an enchanted staff that was nearly as tall as she was. And her eyes - her glorious sky blue eyes gave me hope for the salvation of good. She stood firm and commanding - almost intimidating. What gave her innocence away was the gentle smile on her smooth lips. She was perfect. Her name was Flazie. And when she selected me, out of the ten or so of us standing around - my heart skipped a beat.

This is a much more vivid image of Flazie than before; the part about her innocence in particular stands out above the rest in a commendable way.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice soft and soothing to the ears.

You fixed the capitalization problem in this sentence; that’s a start, but...see that thing about ten sentences later? It’s exactly the same mistake, still there. In fact, there are still eleven more instances of this in your draft. If I make a comment that mentions a grammatical rule, and I don’t say that it deals with the quoted bit alone, you might want to check the rest of your story for other places where the same error might have popped up, ‘cause I’m not going to point out every instance of a particular mistake if it happens more than about three times.

The armour was incredible, the sunlight gleaming off it’s polished surface.

I didn’t make that comment about “its” and “it’s” in my previous post just because I’m insane, though that’s probably a large part of it. See that “it’s” in the quoted sentence? Also, why was the armor “incredible?” Sure, there’s “sunlight gleaming off” its “polished surface,” but on this information alone, it could be full plate mail or aluminum foil. What else about it makes it so noteworthy?

As they spoke amongst each other and walked through to the city square, I admired my master. She walked so soft on the sand, barely leaving a footprint. Her long, brown hair wisped in the air, caressing the exposed part of her neck and massaging her shoulders gently. And in an instant, she took me into the desert, complete with the other warriors.

Nice...this draws a much better picture than before. The only thing I see here is that “soft” should be “softly” (remember that comment in my first post about adverbs and adjectives?)

At first the light of the sun overwhelmed me - I had never ventured far from Lut Gholein’s outer walls, where there was shade to hide near and keep us cool. Out in the barren desert, the sun beat down on myself and those who accompanied me. There was no shade, no city walls to keep me safe. It was just the team and I, alone.

“Myself” should be “me,” and the “keep us cool” part isn’t parallel with the rest of the sentence; who’s the “us?” Jalil doesn’t mention anyone except himself in that sentence, so using a plural pronoun is incorrect.

The first set of enemies approached - small little creatures that walked on four legs...

“Small” and “little” are synonyms; having them both modify “creatures” is redundant.

From there the team of heroes travelled, with me always near Flazie’s side. When we rested in the desert at nights, she would tell me tales of the battles near the Rogue’s Monastery in the west. Each story she told me was fascinating - she had lived a life of heroism I could only dream of.

She and the team wandered farther and farther into the desert, new enemies attacking and failing as they travelled. Tirelessly they pressed on, stopping to rest only when absolutely necessary. I killed when I had to, but to the rest of the team I was but an extension of my master’s body.

There are four uses of the word “team” in the passage above. Guess what I’m going to say...

The nights when the heroes rested and Flazie kept watch for enemies, I stayed awake to accompany her. Perhaps it was my pride, or my growing dependence on her presence, but I could never sleep when she was keeping watch. Each night we talked endlessly, as our relationship grew from a simple mercenary and his master to a friendship. She told me tales of the Rogues heroism in the west, the sad fate of their monastery, and her exploits against the demon known as Andariel. I listened intently to every story, every word. I delighted in her stories - she had seen a world I would never know. I would watch the words roll off her tongue, her innocent smile when she looked at me, the way her hair flowed down her shoulders when she removed her cap - it was heavenly.

This is a good expansion on what you had before, and it helps set up the next paragraph. Another grammar note: “Rogues’ heroism,” not what’s above, since you’re using it to indicate possession.

So I never told her how I felt, content with just the friendship her and I had.

Take a look the phrase “the friendship her and I had,” then remove the “and I” and see how it reads. I think that should be “the friendship she and I had,” seeing as “the friendship her had” doesn’t work grammatically.

I turned away and held back tears, trying to irradicate the image of my own comrade’s torn stomach spilling and drying in the sun.

Is Jalil trying to “eradicate” that image? Also, the part with “spilling” sounds like his innards are spilling continuously. I’d imagine that they’re done moving by the time Jalil finds him.

I went to Flazie, hoping to find comfort in her voice, her looks.

“Her looks” isn’t particularly descriptive, which is surprising, given Jalil’s fascination with her appearance. You could focus on one or two aspects of her features that really stand out in his mind, or at the very least use a less casual word.

Ungodly creatures attacked in every hallway, snakes, skeletons, apparitions, and gigantic, raven-faced summoners that brought the skeletons back from their ruins.

Uh...I don’t recall Unravelers being “raven-faced”... they seem to have more of a massive, cadaverous and bone-white visage in my memory.

Each strike the heroes landed, the champion of the Claw Vipers known by ancient scriptures as Fangskin released a spray of lightning bolts, bolts so powerful that it burned bones on contact.

This sentence is made a little too thick by the extra words needed to work “Fangskin” into the middle. You don’t need to refer to Uniques by their game monikers; in fact, it’s often not a good idea at all.

“Knowing you has been blessing in my simple life, Flazie. I now know why the Light put me on this world. . . thank. . .you.”

“Knowing you has been blessing...” is grammatically incorrect.

Anyway, your story’s significantly better, but there’s still work to be done. I probably won’t end up editing every draft you post, so it’s important if you want to become a better writer that you pick up on some grammatical and stylistic elements (i.e. adverbs vs. adjectives, repetition of words) and incorporate these improvements into your later efforts. Hopefully, that’s not too daunting a prospect.

[Jazzmosis]

I appreciate your criticism, as it does help me find more of my mistakes and give me the oppertunity to improve my writing, so don't feel bad (if you do) about being critical. That being said, there are some instances where you're suggesting things that would do worse for the story than good. They may be grammatically correct (that's only one instance where I disagree) or sound better, but they don't fit into the story. I'm just going to explain/point out the ones I disagree with (the others I've fixed.).

That’s four uses of the word “comrade” and three uses of “commander,” if you count the instance in the third sentence after this block of text. This is the same problem as with “heroes” before; use some synonyms and broaden the story’s vocabulary, and it’ll flow better. As it is, it gets tired fast.

I may say it 4 times, but in actuality it's two words twice that are related but not the same, so it's not exactly rendundant. Besides, he only knows these people as comrades, not their names, so he wouldn't call them anything else. Same goes with his commander - you'd never call a ranking authority "Jerry" or whatever, you'd call him "Commander" or "General" or "Sir" or whatever he/she is. It may sound a bit redundant in the story to call them nothing but comrades, but.. that's all he knows them as. I don't really indicate that he knows any by name - and even though he mourns the death of the one in the field, wouldn't you mourn the loss of a comrade even if you didn't know them well?


This is a much more vivid image of Flazie than before; the part about her innocence in particular stands out above the rest in a commendable way.


Thanks.

Also, why was the armor “incredible?” Sure, there’s “sunlight gleaming off” its “polished surface,” but on this information alone, it could be full plate mail or aluminum foil. What else about it makes it so noteworthy?

In the previous post you complained about how I stuck too close to the game, or "seemed like I was describing screenshots", so I figure that explaining it would be a bit much. To Jalil, it's better then anything, because it's polished and gleaming - the actual appearance of it becomes and afterthought because it's presented so well. That's what is noteworthy about it.


There are four uses of the word “team” in the passage above. Guess what I’m going to say...


This one makes more sense, I'll change it. Although it's only three times...


Is Jalil trying to “eradicate” that image? Also, the part with “spilling” sounds like his innards are spilling continuously. I’d imagine that they’re done moving by the time Jalil finds him.


He's in shock at this point - he's just seen the image of his dead comrade, and the aftermath of what's happened - so naturally, he'd imagine how his stomach came to what he sees. I'll change it, but this was meant more as him imagining the death of his comrade happening over and over.


Uh...I don’t recall Unravelers being “raven-faced”... they seem to have more of a massive, cadaverous and bone-white visage in my memory.


It's all a matter of opinion, I guess.. I've always seen them as having more of a raven-like face (although distorted, but what isn't in the game?).


“Knowing you has been blessing...” is grammatically incorrect.


Maybe so, but it's what he's saying. He's about to die, so he wouldn't really know or care what's coming out of his mouth, he's just expressing raw emotions for his lady-love at this point. Also, Jalil clearly isn't an educated person - he claims that all he knows is how to use his spear, and back in the times that Diablo 2 is set in, most people wouldn't be educated if they were brawlers or mercenaries. Given Jalil's stance, he's probably more polite and educated sounding than most. You can't possibly tell me that when you talk you always use correct grammar - because it's just speech, and if the other person understands, who cares how it's said?

Those are my few qualms with your suggestions/edits. Overall though, you've been immensely helpful, and pointed out ridiculous mistakes (like "its, it's, and capitalization miscues) that I should be picking up on.. Although in honesty, I have a severe problem with overusing commas and punctuation.

[RevenantsKnight]

Besides, he only knows these people as comrades, not their names, so he wouldn't call them anything else. Same goes with his commander - you'd never call a ranking authority "Jerry" or whatever, you'd call him "Commander" or "General" or "Sir" or whatever he/she is. It may sound a bit redundant in the story to call them nothing but comrades, but.. that's all he knows them as.

I didn't mean use names per se, more synonyms. "Comrade" means the same as "fellow soldier," "compatriot," or "brother in arms." The way you're using it, "commander" could be replaced by "superior," "captain of the watch," "mercenary leader," etc. I get that Jalil wouldn't use "Greiz," but that doesn't mean that he has to use the same terms over and over again.

In the previous post you complained about how I stuck too close to the game, or "seemed like I was describing screenshots", so I figure that explaining it would be a bit much. To Jalil, it's better then anything, because it's polished and gleaming - the actual appearance of it becomes and afterthought because it's presented so well. That's what is noteworthy about it.

It may be noteworthy to Jalil solely on that basis, but it's not much to the reader unless you can create an image for them. It's OK to add in extra details that would be a little uncharacteristic of the narrator's memory, so long as they aren't drastic shifts and it helps the reader along. Also, the part about "game screenshots" was for a few specific scenes, in particular the opening bit about the monsters not attacking the city. In your first draft, which that comment refers to, I could just see the leapers gathering outside the archway leading out of Lut Gholein, being blocked by an invisible wall. There, you didn't really explain why; they're just being kept out. In your revision, you deal with this differently (the guards killed enough of the monsters to keep them scared.) Therefore, that particular comment isn't really a problem in the second version.

It's all a matter of opinion, I guess.. I've always seen them as having more of a raven-like face (although distorted, but what isn't in the game?).

I'm gonna eat some of my words here; the "raven-like" image works if you're talking about Champions or Uniques, since the color tinting could very well be gray/black. In that sense, the image works fine...especially since you don't need to (and shouldn't) describe all the monsters that were a cut above the normal cannon fodder individually.

You can't possibly tell me that when you talk you always use correct grammar - because it's just speech, and if the other person understands, who cares how it's said?

Heh...fair enough. I admit to being overly annoyed by grammatical/spelling errors in written works, so when I first read this, I mentally flagged it; I do see your point, though, given that Jalil's trying to rush a thought to Flazie before he dies.

I'm glad you find the criticism helpful and that you really want to improve your writing, even if it means listening to me rant. :) Too many other people get defensive and hostile when folks start listing problems; I for one used to be like that, and after I got over my ego, my writing got a whole lot better.