Best fan fic I've read in a while.

It's an easy to read, yet still has depth.

I can't wait for more

Thank you very much Faldom. It's good to see people still read this I'll try to write either today or tommorow, I simply haven't felt the inspiration that lets me write at my best. Thanks again, I'll see what I can do

Short chapter, but I like it anyway. Next I'll timeskip them to the camp south of where the Blue Road meets the Red Ring Road, and they can talk over the campfire. Not much action, but I like the dialogue, even the way Claude turned out.

Still hot headed from my argument, I answered without thinking "I'll do it, let's go."

"Wonderful. I'll go upstairs and get our things, and you four can get acquainted." With that the Breton walked past S'razirr, who eyed him maliciously, myself, who was still eying S'razirr, and Malene, who was just now walking down the rickety wooden steps to see what all the commotion was about.

There was an awkward silence. S'razirr obviously didn't want to talk to me, as he promptly pulled a chair over to the corner near the fire and sat down. The other two, the Nordic woman and the Breton, were looking about the room, not wanting to talk with me, yet unable to resume their normal conversation. Deciding such a silence was not my taste, I was about to apologize to the Nord woman when Malene interrupted.

"Well now, what's going on here? I heard some shouting, and I come down to find that my Orc friend has joined you bunch of scoundrels." She had sensed the mood, and tried break the ice with some humor. I was appreciative of the comment, but S'razirr seemed to think otherwise as he snapped at the Redguard.

"Mind your own business Malene! We do not want this traitor helping us, and as soon as Claude gets-"

"As soon as I what?" The Breton calmly descended the stairwell, a lumpy sack slung over one shoulder and a small chest in his other hand.

S'razirr stared at him, a dark glint in his off yellow eyes. The other two remained silent, not wanting to get dragged into the oncoming argument.

"My apologies, Malene; please, here is our rent and payment for the drinks." He dropped the lumpy sack on the floor and retrieved a smaller bag out of his shirt pocket. Malene did not seem happy taking the payment, yet that was probably more S'razirr's fault than Claude's.

She gave a gruff thank you and tucked the pouch into a dress pocket, turning her back on the assembly as she took her place behind the counter. Everyone was still, save for Claude, who had swung the large sack over his shoulder once more and started for the door.

"We had better get going. I want to get past the Blue Road before sundown." This wasn't up for discussion. The man was undoubtedly a born leader; the best way to get your men to put their troubles behind them is to march 'em 'till their feet bleed. At least, that was what I had read.

Not wanting to cause further dissent, I started to follow Claude out the door. However, before I could follow the man outside, the Nord woman obstructed my way "You're new, and S'raz hasn't told us much about you, so I'll tell you now. You don't mess with any of us, and we'll be sure you get out of this alive and without further jail time. Got it?"

She seemed all right, all she wanted was to keep her friends together. I understood the feeling "Yep."

"Good." He stepped aside, letting me follow the smiling Claude out the door. The others followed suite, the line ending with the sulking S'razirr. Claude started to hum as we made our way down the road.

'This is going to be a long trip?'


Broke the ten thousand mark

Nice chapter, short like you said, but still enjoyable, as we get to see Claude develop a little more. I can honestly say, he's my favorite character right now

In an earlier post you said you were going to write about some in-game quests, correct? I hope you put your own twist on them, because some of those quests were horribly written, and had much more potential, so hopefully, as a writer, you can make them much more enjoyable!

The way I'm seeing it, I'm sure you can accomplish that.

I hope so, my planning tends to get more generic as it goes further from what I've written. It ends in somewhat the same manner, for those of you that have played this quest. I never had until I started writing this, I actually decided to use it before I even played it. I'll see what I can do about changing it And thanks.


EDIT: Of course.

Im not saying you have to end it in the same way. An epic fight against a Lich would be sweeeeet

I'm just saying, (and this is my opinion) that when writing about specific quests in Oblivion, its nice to not do it completely linear to the game.

Once more short, but it still took the better part of an hour. The last little bit isn't as good as I would have hoped, but I think the abruptness conveys the grogginess of waking alright. The chapter also managed to take care of a day of travelling

The fire crackled and popped, shooting embers up into the starry roof of the forest above us. The Nord woman I now knew as Rigmor stirred the [censored] with a sturdy branch, absent mindedly looking at the fire as she spoke.

"We covered five and forty leagues today, travelling for twelve hours. That means if we set out three hours earlier tomorrow?" Rigmor was the orienteer of the group, who decided which path they should take and how long it would be until they reached their destination. Claude had said the Ayleid ruin, Malada, was roughly five and two twenty leagues by road. I thought about the problem, trying to reach the solution in my mind before Rigmor, but was disappointed when she exclaimed "Four! We'll arrive by the fourth day, a few hours before noon." I would have been surprised by her calculations, but it was her primary duty. That and her mace once we got there.

Claude was snoring loudly from his nearby tent, having gone to bed earlier than myself and the others. S'razirr was off somewhere in the forest, no telling what he was doing. The other Breton, Brucetus, was sitting outside his tent, writing in a small booklet. 'Interesting how scholarly these fellows are, but by what they told me of their employer it's no surprise.'

I left Rigmor to plotting our course on a small map, and walked over to Bruce's tent. He stopped writing as I approached; pausing before setting down the book, apparently annoyed to have been interrupted.

"Yes?" The balding man looked up at me, the fire casting flickering shadows along his long, pale face.

"What are you writing?" I asked, trying to make small talk. During the long trek from Roxey Inn to our makeshift campsite, Brucetus had remained at the front, talking to Claude. I had been shifted to the back, immediately behind Rigmor, who I had managed to strike up a few conversations with.

He sighed "A journal of the day's events, Umbacano requests it for some reason. He also requests that I do it, whining that I am the only one whose handwriting he can read."

"Hmm?" I contemplated the man's chore. No wonder he was annoyed, it seemed a boring job "How much are you writing? There wasn't much that happened today, just endless hiking."

I couldn't be certain, but I would bet ten Septims the Breton had rolled his eyes "He doesn't only force me to write about what happened along the road, but also of every scrap of conversation I can remember. His reasons for wanting to know what his mercenaries are saying are beyond me, especially since he is having one of them write it. If we were conspiring against him, I obviously wouldn't include it." The small joke seemed to lift the man's spirits; a smile grew on his goateed face. Trying to be friendly, I imitated the gesture, sitting beside him on the soft ground.

"Weird guy. Do you have any reason why he wants this?carving?"

"Not really, he never bothered to tell us. He probably informed Claude, but that man wouldn't tell you his name for free."

"So, Claude's a real secretive guy?"

"Ha, you don't know the half of it. All we know about him is that he came here from High Rock, and that his employment with Umbacano has been going on for a long time. Handy with a sword, though, and even better with his wit. I've never seen him get mad for all the time I've known him, and he is always the first to break up a fight. A sly rascal, but one of the best men for his job." The distaste for the gang leader was obvious in Bruce's voice, but his respect for the man shined through as well. If Claude had heard him two tents down, he showed no sign, his ever-present snoring loud as ever.

"Hmm?" I stared into the fire, letting my thoughts and troubles escape me in the dancing inferno. After a quiet minute, the scratching of Brucetus' quill could be heard once more, only interrupted by brief dips in the inkwell beside him.

Across the fire, Rigmor had put up her map and retreated inside her tent. I soon followed suit, leaving Bruce alone with his grudgingly written journal. The sounds of the forest were unfamiliar to me after months on end in a cell, and the chirps and rustles kept me up for what felt like hours. After one uncomfortably loud snap of a twig, I heard a slosh of water, followed by the hiss of steam. 'Bruce seems to have put out the fire. I hope S'razirr can still find his way back to camp?'

My thoughts quickly left me as I drifted slowly down into the peaceful oblivion of sleep. No troubling dreams of my childhood visited me this night, my body too worn from hours of walking with a heavy pack. My only thought when I woke was a deep antipathy to repeating the process this day.

'Remember, the elf will pay your bounty if you do this? Unh?' I ignored the unbearably loud calls, deciding to turn over on my bedroll in an attempt to block my eyes from the piercing light.

What shred of awareness I had left told me the voice belonged to Claude "Come now, Garzog. I wouldn't have agreed to let you come if you're going to hold us up like this?" Any further words were blocked by the blessed comfort of sleep. Comfortable, that is, until my tent came crashing down on top of me, the rope holding its triangular frame up loosed.

"I'm up! I'm up!"



A decent time skip with some dialogue thrown in to round out some characters. I don't enjoy time skipping inside my writing, but it was better than I had hoped :shrug: The censored word is faggo-ts, by the way. Sorry if it offends anyone

Short chapter, sorry, but it's late and I don't like time skipping mid-post. Just a small little thing to get the plot along a little, we'll come back to some action later in the afternoon. Then I've got another "you can sleep here if you help us" deal going on at the end of this day. I mapped it all out, so I now have an even better sense of what's happening next. Don't strain your eyes reading the huge block of text


"Good morning, my friend." Claude stood in front of my recently collapsed tent, smiling that infuriating smile. He already wore his pack, and, looking around the camp, I found my tent was the only remaining sign of our occupation here. The others were nowhere to be found.

"Sorry." I said gruffly, fixing my disheveled clothing as I stood. My pack from the day before sat against a tree adjacent to my tent, waiting for its final item.

"No need to apologize. We should have woken you sooner, we depart in five minutes." His work done, the Breton started walking towards the road, calling over his shoulder as he went "We still have three days travel ahead of us. And should we find what we seek, another week to get back to the city."

The way he said it made me feel he was challenging my endurance, questioning whether I was up to the task. Everything about him sent my blood boiling, but I focused on the task at hand, packing my tent.

After a few minutes of cutting knots, rolling up my bed, and folding the tent into an acceptable square, I donned my pack and jogged for the road. The others were about two hundred yards ahead, keeping a measured pace as they walked down the road.

I jogged up to meet them, falling in line behind Rigmor just as the day before. After about ten minutes of silent walking, Claude called back to me "Good to see you've decided to join us, Garzog. That being the case, I think it's prudent to inform you of our exact plans."

'Plans?' I gave an approving grunt, aggravated by the fact he confirmed my suspicions about him testing me, yet I really did need to hear what he's about to say.

"Well, we intend to reach Malada on the fourth day, find the carving, and spend the next three days getting back to the Imperial City. After that, Umbacano will pay off your bounty, and then give each of us their share. He also told me that there is a good chance for another, ah, opportunity for all of us. If you are willing, you can accompany us on that job too, and make a little pocket change." I could hear his smile widening as he made the offer.

Even if I didn't like Claude, Rigmor and Brucetus seemed decent folk, and S'razirr might decide to calm down in the next week. And even though I would be free, I would also be septimless, and I doubted I would be able to get a job anywhere with my reputation. And if this Umbacano is paying these yahoos enough to match however much gold I've got on my head, I would be able to live in relative comfort until I could find some kind of occupation.

"I'm in."

"Excellent, most excellent. The more the merrier, my friend, the more the merrier."

'He should have been born a Wood Elf.'


Haha, I told a joke

It's been a while, but I found time to write another chapter. Much better than a few of my others, and it accomplishes a few things I wanted to accomplish, namely making Garzog and Claude mad at each other. Got to make him and S'raz make up soon though, I'll take that out in the next day. Thanks for reading Let me know what you think of it so far.


"Your money or your life, Orc." A Nordic man armed with a mace stood in front of me, Claude walking slowly towards him with his hands up,

"Please, sir, we are just travelling adventurers. We have no money to give. Look at him, would we dress in rags if we had coin to spare?" Claude's smile was faint, his demeanor friendly yet submissive. The others stood behind the Breton, mirroring the Nord's gang on the other side. They outnumbered us, but only by one scrappy looking Bosmer.

"Well, if ya' don't have our money, we'd be more 'un happy to, ah, take them weapons off yer hands." The armored man said, pointing one gauntleted finger at the weapons on my companion's hips. I so wanted to break his mocking face "And any food you have would be more 'un helpful."

Claude swallowed, his timid act fooling even me, "We only eat what we can find or catch, sir, but if you truly need our equipment?" He hung his head, appearing to all submissive as a whipped dog.

"Thank 'e." The Nord smiled, baring his teeth; the gang behind him chuckled, amused at the whole exchange. We only looked at Claude gravely, waiting for some kind of signal to attack. The Breton turned slowly, shuffling towards his fallen pack. He glanced at us each in turn; the four of us confirming his silent orders with the slightest of nods.
He retrieved two swords from his pack, one short and the other long, both still sheathed. He gave me a final look before turning around to the large Nord. 'That long sword has to be for me. He's preparing us to attack.'

The Nord stepped forwards and held out his hands, indicating for his men to do the same with a jerk of his blonde head. We all stepped forwards, the others drawing their respective weapons: Bruce with his rare Akaviri katana, Rigmor flourished her steel Morningstar, and S'razirr brought his bow to ready, five arrows in his other paw. We each faced a counterpart from the highwaymen, the Bosmer standing at the back. I tensed my body as we all waited on Claude. The Breton was holding out the long sword, the hilt inches from the Nord's hands.

Suddenly, the sword was sent flying through the air, spinning end over end towards me. Claude had his short sword naked in his off hand, swinging the blade at the Nord's exposed head. I caught the sword perfectly, bringing it up in a practiced arc at the Redguard in front of me. Between being completely surprised and utterly outmatched, the bandit stood no chance of doing more than twisting his face in surprise and rage.

His leather armor gave way as my blade bit into his side, rising up into his chest, stopping with a sickening crack as it hit a rib. My eyes were focused only on the doomed man in front of me, but I trusted the others had dispatched their opponents as well. The Redguard had managed to unclip his mace from his belt, dropping the weapon in his haze. The familiar blood cough signaled his end as he fell to the ground, the wound had pierced a lung. I prayed the sight wouldn't trigger one of my fits, turning away fast as I could.
Despite my efforts, the scene in front of me was many times more gruesome than what I had caused. Claude had defeated the Nord in his initial swing, breaking the poor man's skull, bloodying the previously smug face, his eyes pools of crimson. The other outlaws had done little better; Rigmor and Bruce had dispatched their foes in equally gruesome manners, while S'raz fired another arrow at his dying enemy, two having already pierced the man's bare chest. Claude was chasing down the Bosmer, who appeared to have run as soon as his companions had been attacked.

I started to call out for him to stop, but it was too late. He tackled the elf with a practiced efficiency that contrasted sharply with his usually peaceful appearance. The doomed bandit screamed in terror as Claude stabbed him, piercing his open mouth, driving through to his brain. The shrieks echoed into the grassy hills that had slowly replaced the surrounding forest. Then, silence; save for the slick sound of Claude withdrawing his bloodstained blade.

I rushed to his side, my gladiator's pride awoken "Why did you kill him? He was fleeing! He can't hurt us by running, yet you stabbed him! Stabbed him straight through the head!"

If Claude was upset at my outburst, he did not show it. He and his fellows gazed at me with calm indifference, as if I was a spoiled child throwing a tantrum "Garzog, he could have more friends. What if these men were just a small part of a larger group? We can't have entire bandit gangs after us; we have to eliminate as many threats as possible."
His calm, combined with the sight of his still dripping sword, served only to throw me into a bigger fury "Fine, if you're going to kill every threat, stab me too! I might just kill you one night, so eliminate me as a threat!"

Rigmor tried to put her hand on my shoulder, but stopped after a sharp look from Claude, returning to her place between the other two. For the first time, I saw a flash of anger pass over his face until his usual mask of decorum returned "If I thought for a second you might turn against us, Garzog, don't think I would hesitate."
With that, the Breton turned and started walking away, towards the Bosmer he had killed. The other three did the same, stepping around pools of blood towards their respective kills. They silently began dragging the bandits off the road, into a group of bushes Claude had chosen to stash the still bleeding Bosmer in. I stood resolute, refusing to follow suite and hide the Redguard I had killed.

Claude turned from his work to look me sternly in the eye "Garzog, if we don't hide the bodies, the Watch will get suspicious and send men down the road to investigate. And if they see you, they'll undoubtedly notice you from the wanted posters that must be up by now. If you want to stay out of prison, I would highly recommend you help us."

'Damn him, he's right.' The fact that he was doing this to protect me didn't stop me from hating him for it. I turned away sharply, my gaze locked on the half closed eyes of the still dying Redguard. I dropped Claude's long sword on the ground; the scarlet blade disgusted me almost as much as its owner.

I stood over the man for a moment, knowing what I had to do, trying to create some kind of rebuttal for Claude. None came to mind as I grudgingly picked up the man by his right side, careful not to let his blood stain my ratty clothes.

I slung the highwayman over my shoulder, his limp head next to mine. The nausea washed over me once more, not that I was squeamish around the dead so much that this man was as innocent as the Bosmer I had killed in the arena. The archer's original features were blurry, but the state I left them in was still fully vibrant in my mind. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump of depression and fear in my throat back down.

"Damn you?" A voice whispered in my ear, faint, weak. I dropped the bloody Redguard on the street, jumping back in my surprise. A rattling cough accompanied the sound of his limp body hitting the cobblestone. He was still alive!

My companion's heads turned to me suddenly as I shouted my astonishment. The others were confused, but Claude seemed to know exactly what had happened as he rushed forward.

"Don't just stand there; put that man out of his misery!" Claude barked at me, kneeling by the man as he turned his gaze back to me. I remained in shocked silence, thinking Claude was going to give the man a healing draught or some kind of spell. My surprise turned to outrage as he brought his short sword down once more, ending the poor bastard's life with a deft stroke to the neck.

I didn't shout at him this time, I simply stood there, simmering in my renewed anger. I could hear his condescending voice in my head, explaining to me how it was the best option available. My yellow eyes burned a hole in his brown over shirt as he walked away, showing no signs of what he had just done.

The others had shouldered their packs once more; the only signs of the struggle were a few puddles of blood where the bodies had fallen. Brucetus was wiping a red stain off his travelling cloak, looking to all as if he had just spilled wine at dinner. Rigmor had resumed walking already, followed close behind by S'razirr. Claude stood by his pack on the side of the road, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for me with his calm stare.

Under any other circumstances, under any other man, I would have left the man where he lay. But Claude, Claude would not allow that. I could tell just from his posture that my only option was to follow his command; no other path would be acceptable. I felt like a child that had just been scolded by their father, though my father and I rarely talked during my childhood, and even then the only kind of scolding I ever received was about money or my education. I saw in Claude's eyes the same cold disapproving stare my father gave me the day I left that house for the arena.

The remainder of the hiking was spent in silence, and everyone without exception went to bed early that night.


I was going to have a little bit about the Watch showing up, but I think this worked out better anyways. Thanks again!

Good stuff, Darkom. Apart from the occasional, minor grammatical or spelling mistake, 'tis flawless. I love the way the characters are developing too.

oo: Spelling errors! Impossible! You must tell me where!

Oh god, now I've gotta read through it again...And there's so much!

Dunno if this counts but; Surely 'septimless' should have a hyphen. 'Septim-less'. Hm. I'm not sure, but septimless just looks weird. x.o

Hehe, Darkom, criticized for spelling? Madness!

Regardless, thanks for reading If anyone else has some criticism, let me know. Sorry I've been gone, but I'm trying to keep this going on the weekends. Lots of new RPers, can't wait until I can get back into it, too. Thanks again, see you all soon.


EDIT: Thanks, I always love to see people are reading. Though the story doesn't feel as interesting as some ideas I've got planned (One story is about hunting down Mannimarco after he kills Galerion and another is about a rip in the Dreamsleeve. Perhaps next time...) I'll be sure to finish this before I post anything else here. Although, another story I'm half done with is already posted on Feyfolken, and my next one will be there as soon as I have time to write it.

I found this an enjoyable read, and hope that you continue Garzog's tale!

Alright, this is kind of a bump, but it does serve a purpose.

First of all, let me thank you for your support, I promise I will finish this story. I know I haven't updated in weeks, but school and football have been really busy (first game's next Thursday, I'm a free safety ) and I really am going to try to write some on Labor day after the ten kilometer race in the morning.

Now for the constructive part: Does anyone think I should cut out the entire part about killing the necromancers? I wrote that before I had the plot settled, and looking back I realise it hardly even characterizes Garzog. The only reason I hesitate is that it gives the Nord woman a reason to yell at Garzog in the morning and an excuse for him to sleep in a bed.

Thanks for reading, please tell me if you like it (and why, if possible).


EDIT: Gah, I once again sqaundered all my weekend time! All I had time to do was plan out the next part with Cropsford. Play the quest, write some notes, etc. Anyway, I apologize if anyone was expecting a new chapter, but I did edit the last one a bit. Thanks again, please drop a comment

Ahahaha. Let this be a warning to all fanfiction characters in Tamriel: Claude Maric is one slippery son-of-a-witch. One of my own characters ran afoul of him; he and his cronies are fun to play with, and even more fun to chuck fireballs at.

I noticed you not-so-subtly hinting that you wanted a critique, so I'm here to offer my services. To be honest, the longer a fanfiction is, the more intimidating it is to me, since I like to go over things with a fine-tooth comb. I break a lot of combs on long fanfictions.

But I sat down and read yours, and I have to say... I love this.

Orcs are the race that attracts me least of all. Call me a racist, but the general stigma of Orcs as big brutes just doesn't appeal to me--I like my characters subtle, graceful, and intelligent... which is usually why I go for elves.

I was therefore pleasantly surprised to find myself becoming fond of Garzog. Hearing his life's story and watching his sad exchanges with Owyn tugged at my heartstrings, and made me feel for a guy who wanted nothing out of life other than to smash a couple faces in. I never thought I'd be rooting for that, but a dream is a dream.

Personally, I find I enjoy your characterizations. Garzog is, of course, the best constructed (as he should be, as the main character!). You never come out and start describing anyone's personality, but let each character become known through their words and actions. This is done beautifully; you've obviously grasped the "show, don't tell" concept that many writers (including myself) struggle with.

I'm also impressed with your mastery of plot tension. Things keep building for this guy; first, he has to fight for his life in what is esentially an execution, and then he's escaping to the shouts of Legionnaires behind him, and then he runs into Claude Maric (who is notorious for the double-cross he pulls in the game) and an old friend who carries an equally old grudge... and all the while, the knowledge that the Legion could come swooping down on him hangs over the reader's head. This is suspense at its best, and definitely keeps the reader reading.

Your fights scenes are pretty good as well (although I'm sure D.Foxy could give a more technical breakdown of them). I found them, overall, easy to imagine, and exciting to boot. You pay a lot of attention to where everyone is and what they're doing, which does well to help us out. Things get a bit confusing when he goes into berserker mode, but I suspect you were going for that effect anyway.

I did notice you used a couple cliches. Usually, I wouldn't mention it (I'm known to rely too much on cliches myself), but I feel free to nitpick. It's what you get for having no glaring errors I can lay into.

This phrase, in particular, made me wince:



Unfortunately, the phrase "it felt like an eternity" has been used so many times that it's completely lost all meaning. There are plenty of other, more creative ways to say "a short time felt like a long time." Maybe... something like, "as my mace swung down once more, I could smell the fetid corpses of the Necromancers' experiments. My opponent's blood dripped out of his wound like molasses. I heard a bone crack on impact, the sound cutting through my haze and being swallowed by it."

Which I suppose brings me to another point: description. You're like me; you don't describe as much as you probably should, instead focusing on words and actions to move the story along. But it's not as immersive that way; a bit more sensory description could do very well to help pull the reader into the world. Remember that there are five senses, and they are working all the time. Every once in a while--when things are getting slow, or when you catch yourself using a cliche--stop and ask yourself what Garzog is hearing, smelling, and feeling (as in touching). These sense can get buried under thought and sight, and that makes each reference to an alternate sense very poignant.

Hello pot, this is kettle.

But all that is really a pittance, anyway. These are the sorts of things that are good to be aware of, but practice is pretty much the only thing that can fix them. So, obviously, keep writing.

The main spot I could see improvement is actually in the punctuation department. You love the comma, and make liberal use of it, and there is nothing wrong with that. Commas are wonderful tools. But like any tool, they can be used incorrectly. You'd never try to tighten a bolt with a screwdriver, right?

Here are a couple misuses I noticed:



This was the most common mistake I saw: two independent clauses (phrases that could stand alone as sentences) being strung together without a conjunction (and, if, but, because, etc). While it's a good idea to vary your sentences like that, they should not be connected like that.

There are four wonderful punctuation marks that could be used to connect these two clauses together: the colon (: ), the semi-colon (; ), the em-dash (--), and the elipse (...). All four can be used to connect two independent clauses without a conjunction, and to convey different meanings about the connection to boot.

His look of annoyance increased; I could tell he didn't believe me. This is the most straightforward of the four punctuation marks. The semi-colon exists to seperate things the comma is too weak to handle on its own, including two independent clauses. Use this when you can't use a comma, but don't want to use a period. I noticed you started slipping these into your later chapters; that's a good sign. Don't forget the other three, though.

His look of annoyance increased: I could tell he didn't believe me. This indicates a somewhat higher connection between the two clauses. My high school composition teacher (who you all have to thank for my obsession with mechanics... lucky you :twirl: ) always said that if the first clause posed a question that was answered by the second clause, a colon was best. But, really, the colon and the semi-colon can be used fairly interchangeably.

His look of annoyance increased--I could tell he didn't believe me. The em-dash is just a line the length of a letter "m"... but dashes don't show up on this forum, so I use two smaller dashes to indicate them. The em-dash is best used for parenthetical statements (which I'll talk about shortly), but can also be used to seperate independent clauses. When you use an em-dash, it's usually best if there's some sort of logical turn, since the dash can be a bit jarring. It seems to denote a longer pause than the colon or semi-colon (no surprise, since it's physically wider), but nonetheless indicates a connection between the clauses.

His look of annoyance increased... I could tell he didn't believe me. I suspect old Frodo would have had my hide for even suggesting this one, but he's not around, so nya. The elipse can be used to indicate some sort of trailing off, usually indicating unsurety or thought. It's very conversational, and the least technical of the four punctuation marks. I tend to over-use it, since my own style is fairly conversational.


Really, you can use any of the above fairly interchangeably. Play around with them, and figure out which works best for you.

Next, there's the matter of lists with comma-filled phrases in them:



In this case, you have two types of commas--you have the commas in a list, and commas as parts of descriptive phrases in that list. One of the lesser-known rules of punctuation is as follows: any time a list has commas within it that are not part of the list, the listing commas become semi-colons.

So, in short, the above should actually be the below:




This seperates the descriptive phrases and lessens the confusion. That said, it could still be a bit confusing when you stumble into that first semi-colon... so perhaps a re-wording is in order instead.

And finally, we come to the issue of parenthetical phrases.



In this case, you're actually lacking a comma. If you look at the way the sentence is structured, the subject is actually "one of her friends," not "the Khajiit." This means that "the Khajiit" is actually a parenthetical phrase, so the sentence should actually be written like so:



Obviously, that's too many commas in a row, and confusing to boot. To lessen the confusion, there are a couple things other than commas that you can use to seperate the parenthetical phrase: parentheses, em-dashes, or elipses.

However, one of her friends (the Khajiit) stopped me three steps down. Parentheses are the literary equivilant of a whisper. They're fast, and readers move over them quickly, so they are best used as reminders or as asides. I don't think it fits this situation, but it's important to remember that it is an option.

However, one of her friends--the Khajiit--stopped me three steps down. This one is my personal favorite, and the one I'd use in this case. It pauses the flow of the sentence long enough to expain that the friend is the Khajiit, but then sends the reader back into the sentence right away afterward.

However, one of her friends... the Khajiit... stopped me three steps down. This should be used sparingly, and only as part of a character's voice. It indicates sluggishness and unsurety, and can be very unsightly to read in a straight narration.

Oh, and one more note. When you have dialogue, you should always use some form of punctuation. So



should be



...and...



should be



There are some cases where this isn't always true... but use it as a rule of thumb until you can find out what those exceptions are. :dance:


Okay, I think I'm done, then. My best advice is to play around with your punctuation... you need not rely only on the comma and period to get you through a sentence. It's like trying to fix a table with a hammer and a screwdriver; let's get some wrenches, levels, and sanders into your toolkit too, just in case you need them. :goodjob:


Oh, and as to your question, I'd say leave it in. I don't like to see events edited after they've been put in, because every experience effects a character in little ways. The thing with the Necromancers, for example, shows how Garzog is willing to help out, even when Claude and his crew aren't. Also, it gives him at least one person who thinks favorably of him (Malene). The interaction with Malene snatching Rigmor's mace right off the table is hilarious.

So no, don't cut it out.

Overall, I'd say you've got good literary instincts and a great deal of skill. Your growth as a writer should now focus on refining your style and hammering out those little weaknesses that are more annoyance than hindrance. Oh, and writing just because you love it, of course.

:read: I finally know the joy of a story of mine being critiqued (I was kind of shameless in begging for a critique elsewhere, wasn't I?) :celebration: First let me thank you for taking the time to do that for me. I actually didn't stumble across Claude in the game; I formed the prison escape idea first, then the escape towards the inn, and finally reading on the UESP that Claude and his gang were there. This would probably be the main reason the beginning of my story was a little weak.

I understand your hesitation; I have only read a few full length stories intending to critique them, and even then only by request.

Getting the feel for writing Garzog was actually pretty difficult; I frequently found myself stopping and saying, "This sounds more like an Imperial than an orc." Which is why I was overjoyed when you told me that I had done well in that respect.

The same feeling of self satisfaction came to me when you complimented my suspense and fight scenes, but I have to admit (and I'm really not trying to sound cool or anything by this) that I didn't actually think about that while I was writing. I would love to say that I kept all the little writing tips I see you and others give people in my mind, but I only really see these things when I read, not when I write.

Clich?s and description, eh? I knew I didn't describe enough, but I never thought of myself as much of a clich? user. Thanks for pointing that out, I'll try to catch those over the weekend in my editing (I would do it tonight if there wasn't a football game. Speaking of which, my team won last night 14-0)

My punctuation has never been quite as good as my writing; I suspect this is because I tend to write in a rather conversational way. It helps a lot with my flow, but it leaves me hearing my sentences without knowing what they're supposed to look like. I had realized recently that my commas are frequently misplaced and over-used, and I really have been trying to use more semi-colons as of late. I had never even heard of an "em-dash", I don't think I'd ever used colons outside of listing things, and my previous opinion on parenthesis was that they should only be in non-fiction and older novels (perish the thought ) I still feel that ellipses belong solely in dialogue, but this might be because I have little experience with putting pauses in narration.

Indeed, I think I will leave that part in. It would be too cumbersome now to get rid of all the small effect of it, and I don't think I could take that out of my idea of Garzog's character.

Oops, this is probably a little long for a response to a review, but, to be fair, the critique was rather long as well (was that comma use right?) You taught me a lot about punctuation that I had never even heard of before; I'll probably be looking back at that review while writing to be sure I'm correct Thank you again for helping me with my writing; I really appreciate it. Thank you for the critique, and keep up the good work :goodjob:

PS Please let me know if anything in this reply is incorrect as far as punctuation goes

Thanks again to everyone for reading; I edited a the first few posts already, and hope to finish soon. Meanwhile, I wrote a small opening to a new day that you might enjoy. I don't feel very confident about it, the only reason I haven't finished it yet.


The sun peaked over the horizon, the shrine to Julianos casting long shadows over our small campsite. Claude was the only other one awake, the others still sleeping soundly in their tents. The Breton sat in the shadow of a large oak, his features lost to the gray light of dawn. The silence was mutual, neither of us wanting to be the first to mention yesterday's incident. The worst part of it was I could tell I was being unreasonable, that his reasons were just, yet I was stubborn enough to ignore that. My thrice blasted pride wouldn't let me do much else.

As I made my way out of camp I dropped my gaze to the long sword on my hip; I had found the blade clean within my pack that morning as I dressed. With the highwayman's blood wiped away, the sword seemed as innocent as any tool. I drew the shining steel, half noticing the superb quality with which it had been forged. The leather wrapped handle felt as if it had been fitted to my hand; the balance surpassed anything I had used in the arena.

Techniques, parries, strings of combinations: my training rushing back to me after my year of incarceration. I closed my eyes, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I had held. The silver tip of my new sword danced slowly into position; the rest of my body followed suit into my well worn fighting stance.

'No shield, one handed sword, extend the elbow to make use of the parry. Pick up the feet, stay on your toes; few opponents will come at you with a smaller weapon.'

I fell into my old routine without a conscience thought; the morning dew wetting my bare feet as I spun and stepped around imaginary foes. Beads of sweat began to form on my brow; the forest around me oblivious to the simple happiness I found in my exercise. Past and future were forgotten, I would likely have labored for hours if not for Rigmor's now familiar voice. "Bruce, wake up! We've got to set out early today if we want to keep schedule!"

I lowered my stance, my battle mask breaking into a large smile. 'Today should prove much better than the last.'



Hmm, looking back on my story I am reminded once more of the importance of planning out one's plot before one begins writing. I think this story really helped my writing though; even if it itself isn't much of a story it is now tremendously important to me. I intend to finish it before starting a new, better, more exciting tale. Improving half-way through a story is a blessing and a curse, it seems

I am truly sorry everyone. I have said time and again that I would finish this story no matter what, and the real action is just about to start here, but I think it is high time to move on. I love Garzog, and I hate to disappoint anyone that was looking forward to reading the end of this, but my ideas are far too numerous and exciting to leave on the shelf. I will be starting a brand new story on Saturday about the Dark Brotherhood, one that I have very high hopes (and dozens of hours worth of planning) put into. This idea struck me recently, and I couldn't help but develop it further. To you curious readers out there, it is the story following Lucien Lachance and his master fifteen years before the Oblivion crisis. I would love to talk about it more, but you'll just have to wait until the weekend

Alas, I am terribly reluctant to leave Garzog in this state, but my planning was far too weak for this story, and the pace has slowed too much as of late for me to be satisfied. Thank you all so much for your help and support, I look forward to seeing you again next time

Thanks again, I really appreciate the help.


PS If you really want to know the plot points of Garzog, let me know and I'll post my notes


EDIT: Ah, I completely forgot- I have almost completely finished the next chapter of this story :facepalm: Now I can't help but post it, although I am still unsatisfied with the dialogue. Beloved mods, please don't close this one just yet, I have one more chapter waiting in the wings

"You there! You have to help me!" A balding Imperial ran down the road towards us, waving his arms as if signaling a ship.

Claude stopped, the rest of the procession taking their places beside him to wait for the strange man. I stood on the end of the line, between S'razirr and a large boulder situated on the side of the road.

"What seems to be the problem, my good man?" Claude asked casually, contrasting the apparent hurry the other man seemed to be in. I watched with a raised eyebrow, waiting to see how Claude would handle the situation.

"Thank Talos I finally found someone!" He gasped, stopping, doubled over, in front of us. After a brief moment of heavy breathing, the middle aged man continued, "My family was attacked by goblins while working at our farm. We broke and ran, but I can't find the others. Please, you have to help us!"

If I were by myself, I would immediately go with the man to find his family, but as it were, I could do nothing but hope Claude would make the same decision. Blast him.

"Well, that is unfortunate." The Breton stared down at the panting man, I could tell by the look on his face what his answer would be, "But we can't waste time gallivanting off through the woods looking for people that might already be dead."

How could he say such a thing! "What are you talking about, we have to help him! Where is your decency?" I exclaimed, interrupting the shocked Imperial.

Claude stopped, addressing me without even turning to face me, "Garzog. We are on a restricted schedule here and have no time for this. This man doesn't even know where his kin are."

Before I could say anything, the Imperial man spoke, a pathetic look on his face, "Please, sir! I know that they all are heading for our campsite, just down the road! It wouldn't take but a moment!"

The other three members of our party stood, obviously used to letting Claude decide what they would do. Honestly, sometimes their loyalty was infuriating. Their heads turned once more to their Breton leader as he spoke, his voice filled with daggers, "Well then, why didn't you say so? What do you need then, if you know where they are?"
The man looked down, shamefaced. "Well, I can't get there because I ran the wrong way. I'm afraid that if I go back there will be goblins there waiting for me?"

I was starting to side with Claude; this man's idiocy annoyed me. Furthermore, his poor choice of words might have cost me my spot in this quest, and, with it, my freedom.

Claude was about to speak, when to everyone's surprise, Rigmor burst in, "Wait, are you telling us that you ran all this way looking for someone to help you go the other direction? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"
"Exactly my point," Claude said; his normal decorum returned, "Well then, we are going in the same direction, so I don't see any problem in letting you walk with us."

"Thank you, thank you so much!" The man said; oblivious to the insults he received. Was he stupid, or just confused by the recent trauma? Either way, I couldn't part with him soon enough.


"Here it is," The Imperial, whose name we found out was Aloys, stopped, indicating a small clearing along the side of the road, "We've been living here, getting ready to build our farm. Someone shouted to run back here after the goblins attacked."

"That would be me." An old Breton man stood and began walking towards the party, leaving his seat next to two women- presumably the other farmers. "Thank you for bringing my son-in-law back; we were afraid the goblins had gotten him when he didn't show up."

As the old man was speaking, one of the women began running towards us- her face glistening with tears. "Oh, Aloys, we thought we'd lost you! Thank the Nine you're safe!" She cried, embracing the balding man.

"I know honey, I know. I'm glad we're all back together again too." The Imperial said, his voice threatening to break into sobs.

'Quite the melodramatic couple; now I see how such a fool found a wife.'

The other woman- a redguard sporting a large bow- stood and approached the growing party. She eyed each of us solemnly, giving off a heavy air of superiority and calm. Claude will get along with her splendidly, I can already tell.
The elderly Breton's weary brown eyes continued looking at Claude gravely, the lines of worry around his mouth tightening with each word, "You're welcome to stay with us, if you'd like. Mara knows we won't be going back to Cropsford for a while."

Claude's cool demeanor gave his words an undercurrent of cruelty and impatience, his seemingly favorite tone of voice, "A tempting offer, my good man, but we really must be going. Any further delay would throw our schedule-"
Rigmor burst in, "Oh, stow it Claude! You know as well as I do that we were going to get back to the Imperial City with three days to spare regardless! I think we have time to help these people; their whole lives are probably riding on that land."

Claude seemed just as surprised as I was at this; I was just about to say the same thing. I had no idea Rigmor was anything but another soldier in Claude's personal army.

To further my astonishment, S'razirr spoke up from somewhere behind me, "She has a point, Claude. I've seen things like this all the time; a farmer without a farm is nothing. And if we can help people keep from being nothing, well, I think we should."

Claude whirled around, completely ignoring the astonished farmer behind him, "Oh, really? You two want to help these worms get their precious farm back from some measly goblins? You do realize this kind of thing is something the Watch should handle, and not people like us!" He shouted, all of his usual calm gone, "Do you have any idea how important this is to me? To us!"

A shameful silence settled over the group; the farmers seemed as shocked at their rescuers outburst as the rescuers were.

"Claude," Brucetus said softly, "We all know how important this is, but sometimes you have to put aside your own feelings and lend a hand to the less fortunate."

"You too, Bruce? So, it's come down to this, eh? Fine, you all can go ahead and try to murder a whole tribe of goblins by yourself. I'm going on to Malada, to get my carving, and then my pay."

The whole situation was dissolving far too quickly, if someone didn't do something fast everything would be ruined. I don't know why I suddenly felt pity for a man I had grown to dislike so much, but for the sake of my new gang, I would have to step in.

"Claude, we all want to get to Malada and help, but is taking a little detour such a bad thing? I for one promise that I'll do whatever I can to see us get that carving back to Umbacano, but not if we can't take the time to help someone in need." I took a step towards the furious Breton, my tone and motions as soothing as an orc can be.

"Me too." Rigmor said, stepping up beside me. I stole a quick glance to her, found her doing the same to me, and quickly turned my attention back to Claude.

S'razirr and Brucetus quickly followed the Nord's example, each agreeing to my promise. The fire slowly died out of Claude's eyes, his hateful expression returned to blank indifference.

"Well then, if we must do this thing, we are going to do it right." He looked us each in the eyes; our invincible leader had returned. We all met his gaze for the briefest of moments, acknowledging an unspoken vow of silence on this matter. With that done, Claude turned without warning back to the old Breton, "So, my dear friend, how much do you know about these goblins?"




Well, thanks again everyone. This is will most likely be the last chapter of Garzog- or at least for a very long while. However, even if I won't be writing it anymore, you can always offer your advice Thanks, and keep it up