first page of a story I'm thinking of writing.

[Fyre]

(ok before you go on, consider this. I have written this with no previous planning)

“There was a time, long ago, when the world was at peace with itself. There ruled, a wise and noble Emperor and his royal guard were the keepers of this peace. But as always is the case this wasn’t to last. Peasants, dissatisfied with the way the land was being turned more and more to waste through intense farming, rallied together to march on the Palace of Kiang and protest to the Emperor. There leader, who went by the name of the Sid, was a brave man and he alone was responsible for what happened next. It was also said that Sid was a demon.â€￾

“Now I must confess this is where the records get a little hazy, there were few of the royal scribes who survived the fire and those who did were too shocked to continue their work. So much, of what is known, is conjecture. However I will try to relate what snippets of information I have gathered thus far.â€￾

The scribe, Thomas, laid his quill down and admired his handiwork. It had taken him all day to write two paragraphs but then it would when the ornate lettering and calligraphy took almost 2 hours alone to complete. His desk was neat and tidy, everything in its place. He was a man of a pernickety persuasion and this was evident in the shelves of tomes he had organised in his own unique category. 4 years of archival studies, before he was appointed as scribe to the Order, were not wasted on him. Thus it was that his manner changed, when the small window, through which he watched the sun rise each morning, was abruptly shattered and a small, solid, spherical object came hurtling into the room knocking over his ink well and spoiling his days work.

“By the lord!â€￾ he yelled, outraged that someone would have the tenacity to ruin his hard labour.
“Who is responsible for thisâ€￾ he shouted through the now open window, the object of his fury held in his shaking fist.
The laughing outside stopped and the five boys who had, until now, been playing quietly outside became glum. Then in well rehearsed unison they all raised an accusing finger at someone else.
“Well,â€￾ continued Thomas, “if that’s the way you insist on playing this tomfoolery then you will all come with me to the Deans office and each of you will be punished.â€￾

The accusing fingers all then swerved to the same boy, Travis. Travis’s finger was still pointing at Robert who was trying to avoid his eyes.

“Right then, Travis is it?â€￾ Travis nodded.
“You will come with me to the Deans office, now.â€￾
With that the door to the Scribes office flew open and Thomas strode out into the sunlit courtyard. His stature was small and his frame plump. His beady eyes surveyed the broken glass on the floor infront of his window and then rested on Travis. With one boney finger he motioned for Travis to come to him. Travis walked forward and the felt the sharp clamp of Thomas’s hand come down on his shoulder. A vice like grip dragged Travis, unwittingly, to the Deans office.

[Chalgrish]

use the first two parts as an introductory prologue, and expand on it

[Fyre]

I was thinking of doing this, will work on it sometime at work (long weekend ahead)...thanks for the input.

[Constitutiona]

aside from the obvious polish needed, this is really good. definatly something that I would read

[Chalgrish]

It's not a story if it doesn't have polish

[Jadrian DragonFreind]

Thats not always true Chalgarish...Ive written a perfectly good short story that doesnt have any polish er wrong con but cant find the one I want

[Jadrian DragonFreind]

Its agreat story, sorrr.... theres just one thing....do they always blame travis, or did he actually do it?