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The purple Bengal Tigers eat yellow marshmlllows and should they be Rasberry flavour

T.Allen.Smith

Staff
Moderator
A very nice & well thought out critique PenPilot. You took the time to go into depth.

Also, thanks for sharing your work Ani.
 

gavintonks

Maester
I posted a very detailed post on the emotional content of the scene but the internet is playing up and it crashed so I lost the entire post

I suggested we look at the emotional content of the scene
1 - the pain he character experiences from captivity and shackles, chaffing, pins and needles it can be excruciatingly painful
3 - The conflict emotionally between the characters
4 - the pov and the descriptive view point of the scene settings
 

gavintonks

Maester
The emotions
revulsion
unpleasant
smells
visual
taste
feeling
sense of being trapped
stars / escape freedom counterbalance to the trapped
thirst / the thirst her body craving moisture
how long is she there?
the emotions churning in the pit of her stomach - red to the character, show a weakness that is thrust aside to be a strength
feeling that they wish to break you but you will not be a victim



The cell” was a damp and filthy place. It was a large round stone dungeon that smelled of mold and excrement. The walls were approximately thirty-five feet high, and made of smooth stones, impossible to climb. Raven could make out the stars in the night sky above.

# Raven had worn a path around the smooth stone cell, she glanced up at the sky and the stars taunted her. The prison was complete, escape was impossible. The filth and stench clung to her nostrils and her boots. She had long given up trying to avoid stepping in unknown muck.

Her arms ached from the manacles and angry red welts had risen where that had squeezed her flesh. Taking a deep breath, she moved her mind to another place for a moments respite.
"I will be free," she said to herself over and over again. Exhausted she slid down the wall onto the filthy straw mattress.
She lay propped against the stone a rag doll,
"How had she landed in this situation/" she ran the events over in her mind.
Her body itched, things crawled on her, the stench threatened to overwhelm, the metal grate of rust against rust, brought her mind back in sharp focus.

For a moment she thought she had her ears playing tricks in the silence, her beating heart pumped she could hear the sound in the silence,

If we look at the scene we have set the character up
now we have action the door is going to open
How
what emotion
what do you wish the reader to feel

The door pushed open the accumulated debris in a pile which sent waves of awful stench making her feel sick
The burst of lamplight made her shut her eyes and try and turn away
the mage came flapping through the door with soldiers in tow
he stepped and pulled his robes up so he does not get them filthy

'oh no!" its you I had hoped it was the executioner t put me out of my misery from seeing you again
barbed sentences
they were told to not give you a sword, you may hurt yourself
probably the same with a spell, they scared youll trip and fix them with it

plus the distance between your characters
he hopped through the fetid rubbish like a bird
She was not going to give him the satisfaction of getting up
H ehas to bend to whisper in her ear, his how damp breath in her ear
he strikes her, he needs to have a victim
Her hands were still bound, but she could freely move around the large dungeon. She sat in silence upon a musty straw mattress, having taxed herself yelling for help through the day. The stone walls were thick and the grate above so far away.

A clanging sounded at the door, causing Raven to stand, and a moment later the door opened and Dimata’s men entered followed by the mage, Simon.

Raven stared steadily ahead.
 

gavintonks

Maester
would she consider yelling for escape why?
is this in her nature
If we hone in on the bodies and their context and proximity
she pushed his body away, but he laughed and licked her ear,
she will cut out his tongue next time she has the chance for that

the soldiers will not hold him back they are not involved
she spits on him because it is all she can do so he hits her with a back hand
I find freezing a moment an describing it helps define how the story will run

1 - in context with the pov as that is how and the manor in which it is told
2 - from inside the characters emotional responses to bodily actions
3 - the emotion you wish the reader to feel
4 - the drama that un-folds to the next scene
how much information is released in this scene to make the reader want to learn more
 

gavintonks

Maester
the door flew open and all the hate she had in her flared in her eyes, that worthless scum, "so they have sent a sniveling half runt, to do their duty." she did not know if it was wise to taunt him so. H estrode across and grabbed her manicalled hands, she could not help but wince and cry out with pain. he twisted crelly as he yanked her to her feet. steeling herself she fed on her hate and opened her eyes to meet his. He did not expect that look, and turned away, guards bring me a sword."
his foolish stance made him angry as they deliberately disobeyed.
Guards bring m you sword he demanded and jerked her to the side.
we have orders sir
he half dragged her across the room and tired to garb a dagger from the gurads belt. he stepped away respectfully
this enfuriated him even more
he backhanded Raven and sent her sprawling in the filth.
pain shot through her, she breathed heavily, her eyes teared and her face smarted
she would not be his victim
she managed to lift herself but did not have the strength to rise, she panted, "you need to hit girls you impotent excuse for a mage," he lifted his leg to kick but a look from the guards made him hesitate she knew she had him then

playing with emotions and response, can create and lift the story creating tension and breath holding scenes
 

Caged Maiden

Staff
Article Team
I guess I saved most of the emotional responses for the third interrogation scene. THat's one of the reasons I thought of cutting the first. Each builds in intensity, and this first one her opponent is a weak man who she knows she is smarter than. Also, at this point, she's only been there one day and night, so she still has strength. She's a tough woman, tempered by the mean streets, but she is also very mart and plays a cool sort of manipulation.

When the second interrogator enters she is afraid of him, though her hope is strong that she can talk her way out.

In the third one, she is much weaker, both physically and mentally, and they bring with them her companion who had been beaten to within an inch of his life. Though she holds no love for the mn, just the sight of his blood and the sorry state in which they left him is enough to get her to cooperate. It's a pretty brutal scene, so I was hesitant to do too much in the first because I wanted the third to have more emotional impact for the reader.

If I start a thread with all three would you guys weigh-in on what you think of the chapter as a whole? I must warn that it's kinda graphic though, and involves her being raped. I don't know whether anyone would hve a problem reading that. Thanks for everyone who has demonstrated how I can strengthen this scene. It is one that I feel I haven't maximized my impact with.
 

Penpilot

Staff
Article Team
I'd be glad to weigh in if you start a thread.

Just one thing I though of as I read your post. I think the three escalating scenes could be really effective. There's this nice arc where she starts strong and grows weaker where as the interrogators start weak and grow stronger. Scene 1, she's strong and interrogator weak. Scene 2, they can bother be on relatively equal footing with nice back an fourth. Scene 3, she's spent and the interrogator is strong.

If she's worn down, to me at least, it lets the character retain their strength even if they break or crack.
 

Caged Maiden

Staff
Article Team
Thanks Penpilot, I'll do it. I love what you guys are saying, but I'd like to show you all how the three scenes fit together. I'm hesitant to put too much detail into the first for exactly the reason you just mentioned.
 

Caged Maiden

Staff
Article Team
# Raven had worn a path around the smooth stone cell, she glanced up at the sky and the stars taunted her. The prison was complete, escape was impossible. The filth and stench clung to her nostrils and her boots. She had long given up trying to avoid stepping in unknown muck.

Her arms ached from the manacles and angry red welts had risen where that had squeezed her flesh. Taking a deep breath, she moved her mind to another place for a moments respite.
"I will be free," she said to herself over and over again. Exhausted she slid down the wall onto the filthy straw mattress.
She lay propped against the stone a rag doll,
"How had she landed in this situation/" she ran the events over in her mind.
Her body itched, things crawled on her, the stench threatened to overwhelm, the metal grate of rust against rust, brought her mind back in sharp focus.

For a moment she thought she had her ears playing tricks in the silence, her beating heart pumped she could hear the sound in the silence,

If we look at the scene we have set the character up
now we have action the door is going to open
How
what emotion
what do you wish the reader to feel

Really good, all of this, Thank you. I don't often askmyself a direct question like, "How do I want a reader to feel here?" I just sort of roll with my concepts and decide how I want a CHARACTER to feel.

he hopped through the fetid rubbish like a bird

I love this line so much. It's really matching with how I envision the scrawny mage, birdlike. HAHA
 

gavintonks

Maester
anihow can I make a suggestion and ask you to post here as well as the emotional content is important to the context of this thread
It would be interesting to unpack the intensity and the emotional plan, plus of course the 'feelings'
having the plan so to speak and adding emotional iq in a growing path
 

gavintonks

Maester
1- no air max 3 minutes
2 - no water max 3 days
3 - no food 22 days

plus you begin to hallucinate and also believe you are fine
if she is there for 36 hours and she is manacled she would have had to pee etc which is also used to humiliate, so her clothing is important
your mind wanders and you get sleepy so she would be loosing consciousness, it becomes hard to focus
I think the most a person was kept alive being tortured was 55 days
 

Caged Maiden

Staff
Article Team
I'd love to. Here's the second scene which immediately follows the first:

* * *

The nights in the cell were worse than the days. The sounds from above told her that she was near the dockyard. Metal bells clanged on ships and gulls screeched in the bay. As Raven made her way to the middle of the chamber to look up into the night sky her sensitive ears picked up something curious.

Outside her cell and down the hall a door opened.

Raven knelt at her door. She could hear voices; one of them belonged to Dimata.

“Have you found anything?” he asked.

“There was nothing in her room.” said the other voice, “and The Lion is displeased to have lost his little bird. He has been asking questions around town. We may have to move her.”

“Her companion, the bard is being questioned by Torvu,” said Dimata. “If he doesn’t know anything, we can use him to make her talk.”

“If she knows anything, I will get it out,” said the other man, “she cannot lie to me.”

The men were almost at her door, so on quivering knees she crawled back to the mattress.

The two men entered the cell, Dimata led, followed by a man whose very presence sent chills up her spine. His hair was blonde and his eyes cold blue. He stood several inches over six feet tall and a hideous scar ran from his left eye to his jaw.
He wore a dark cloak over his dark clothing, adding to his frightening appearance.

As the strange man approached her, Raven could sense his aggression. This is not a man who plays games, she thought to herself.

Raven stood as he drew near.

The intimidating man stopped, and Raven fought hard to not show her fear. She inclined her chin to meet his gaze. Silently he studied her face.

“Leave us,” he demanded of Dimata, “I will question her alone.”

Dimata left without a word. Neither Raven nor the interrogator took any notice of him as he went.

Much to Raven’s surprise, the man spoke softly to her, “If you sing for me, little bird, I will free you from your cage.”
“I do not know the words to the song you wish to hear,” she said.

“Tell me where the crypt is located,” he said.

“I cannot,” she said, “I don’t know anything about it.”

He grabbed her chain in his hand and jerked her forward a step. “I warn you not to try my patience,” he growled. “I want to know where to find it.”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“What town?”

Raven shook her head. “I have no guess. I have never heard of it before.”


Violently he pushed her, driving her back into the stone wall. He pressed his weight upon her body and said, “Surely you do. Think back to your childhood. Where did you live? What did your parents do for a living? What did the land look like? What town were you raised in?

His voice was forceful. Raven wracked her brain at his command.

“I...,” she stammered, “I never met my parents. I was raised by an old woman. We lived in a cottage near a great forest. Lode was the nearest town, but it was quite far. We barely ever went there.”

“When I was eleven, I came alone to Brazelton and worked as a laundress. I am not a mage’s heir, nor have I any key. I know nothing about a crypt or a treasure.”

She was near to tears despite her efforts to remain composed. “I cannot help you find the crypt. Even if I were the heir, which I am certain I am not, I remember little of my childhood. I do not have any answers to the questions you ask.”
He let go of her and backed up a few steps.

“Dimata will open the crypt. He is quite obsessed with the treasure within, and quite mad as well.”
“And yet you work for him,” she said softly.

“I am a mercenary, little bird. I work for whoever pays my fee.”

He took another step away and said, “I’d start thinking up some answers. He’s in there now softening up your dearie and when he’s done, he’ll be back here to get his answers from you.”


The mercenary turned and left Raven alone in the cell, shaking in the damp darkness.

She was afraid. It was obvious that Dimata was a lunatic. How would she escape from his dungeon? And what of poor Martin who had gotten mixed up in the situation through no fault of his own?

Raven pulled her skirts up around her legs and sat upon her mattress attempting to stay warm. Hunger was making the cold less manageable, and she worked hard to keep out the nighttime draft.


* * *

Wow, I haven't looked at this scene in a while. After the earlier comments I'm already looking at it in a new light, and sort of embarrassed to post it without editing, but here it is anyways.

I'm glad for the opportunity to do this BTW. This whole sequence has been a problem for me, and it shows so much in my writing. You can just see how I lacked a little inspiration when writing it. Thank you guys for illustrating your points on this passage. I'm excited to see what you all have to say. I'm going to have to take notes. :)
 

Caged Maiden

Staff
Article Team
anihow can I make a suggestion and ask you to post here as well as the emotional content is important to the context of this thread
It would be interesting to unpack the intensity and the emotional plan, plus of course the 'feelings'
having the plan so to speak and adding emotional iq in a growing path

So It's about 3 days she's there for in total. She is seriously dehydrated and wounded, and her recovery is also an intense time because she's lost blood. I did research on those subjects and gave her all the proper symptoms that go along with the dehydration and blood loss.
 

gavintonks

Maester
I see we have 637 views and stars have no idea what the gold stars mean, but the idea of unpacking scenes in context of emotional creativity is important to the development of engaging scenes and the story flow
1 - the difference between a static scene and an engaging one is emotional iq
2 - how is this achieved
by planning
what does the plan consist of
an emotional characteristic map of your characters and what you wish to convey to the reader
the reader must carry with them the emotional objective of the scene and how they view that piece on information in the broader context of the story
3 - this will then move the story forward [hopefully]
 

Caged Maiden

Staff
Article Team
Okay here's the third scene, and I'll warn it's a little graphic. If you're easily offended, don't read it, but I glossed over the actual rape itself because I thought it was too much to send to an agent.

* * *

Raven was awakened by a loud clanging at her door. Someone opened the cell door and entered.
She sat up abruptly, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted in the darkness.

It was Dimata. He set the torch he carried into one of the holders on the wall. Behind him followed two of his men carrying a well-beaten Martin, each holding one of his arms.

The smell of blood, coppery and warm filled Raven’s nose, turning her empty stomach.

Dimata commanded the two guards to chain Martin, and they fitted manacles, which were chained to the floor, upon his wrists. The two-foot chains affixed to each of his hands would not allow him to go far at all. He’d not even be able to stand with such short chains.

Dimata approached Raven. He violently jerked her to her feet by the front of her dress.

“I am out of patience with you,” he shouted into her face, spittle landing on her cheek and chin. Raven’s knees gave out and she fell to Dimata’s feet. Thirst and hunger had made her weak. She tried to find her feet again, ashamed by her frailty.

“Such an insolent bitch!” cried Dimata, pulling her to standing again. He brought back his hand and cuffed her hard across the face.

“Tell me what I want to know!” he shouted at her.

“I can’t,” she cried, “I don’t know where it is.”


 He slapped her again, sending her back to her knees. “No more lies,” he roared, drawing a knife from his belt. “If you will not talk, then perhaps your friend would like to.”


In the dim torchlight Raven could see the damage that had been done to Martin. He was battered. Blood had dried all over his face, making it impossible to see where it had flowed from.
He knelt pathetically, chained to the floor in an awful state. She was amazed he was able to even hold himself up after the violence he’d withstood.

Dimata grabbed the chain which ran between her wrists and threw her to her hands and knees on the floor in front of Martin. Kneeling beside her, he held her head up, her chin in his hand; her eyes wide and her breath quick.

She knelt face to face with the bloodied bard, her whole body shaking, frightened beyond all imagination. Martin briefly glanced into her eyes before returning his gaze to the floor. Damn the gods for their cruelty, thought Raven. She and Martin were in the lair of a power-hungry psychopath. Why had fate dealt her this ugly hand?

They were already dead, she realized, then. There was no chance of leaving. No matter what she did, Dimata would not let her go. She would either die by his hands immediately for not telling him what he wanted to know, or she would die later, when he finally realized that she had nothing to tell.

“Let him go,” she said softly, the words out before she even knew that she was speaking, “Martin shouldn’t be here. He has nothing to do with this.”

The bard looked up in confusion, but Dimata pulled her up to her feet again before she could do more than give a brief smile of comfort.

“Tell me where it is,” he snarled in her face.

“I don’t know where it is,” she whimpered, “I told your mercenary everything I knew earlier.
Please, spare Martin, he cannot help you, surely you know that. You already have me. Let him go.”

Dimata laughed. He put the long knife against her throat, and then to Martin said, “Do I have two birdies who cannot sing? Or will one of them decide to save the other?”

Martin flexed his arms, but the heavy chains held him fast. He glared up at Dimata.


Raven tried to move away, but Dimata’s knife hand was clumsy, and her eyes went wide as the blade pressed into her flesh. Blood ran from her neck down into her dress. She took a step backwards, involuntarily, and soon Dimata held her fast again.

He slid the blade into the front of her dress. Pressing downwards, he slowly, one by one cut the buttons off, leaving the front hanging open and Raven shivering.

He brought the knife up and caressed her cheek with it. “Someone is going to start talking,” he growled into her ear.

Raven tried to pull from his grasp.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, grabbing her by the back of the neck. “I didn’t tell you to move.”

He pointed the knife at her throat again and began unbuckling his belt.

Raven struggled, the knife’s point drew blood from the soft underside of her jaw. “Please,” she whimpered, “I don’t know anything.”

He unbuttoned his codpiece. “More’s the pity,” he said callously, “but your friend does, and I’ve been unable to convince him to spill it. Perhaps you will have better luck than I did.”

He ripped the front of her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, and he forced her to the floor, his hand crushing her windpipe as he held the knife with the other. She gasped for breath.
She felt the cold steel run along the side of her neck as she lay on the floor. Any sudden movement might cause her greater injury. She tried to hold still, though she shivered and shook.
Dimata straddled her as he played his blade across her exposed body. She closed her eyes so she did not have to watch the mad delight in his eyes. He brought the blade over her bared breasts and she flinched. He laughed.

“Stop it!” she shouted, “get off of me.” She tried to roll him off of her. He briefly lost his balance and his knife sliced across her ribs. She cried out in pain as blood ran from the wound. “Get off of me,” Raven screamed as she kicked her feet, attempting to free herself from his weight.
Dimata laughed again.

As she struggled, he spun around atop her and began cutting off her linen knickers. “Stop!” she cried, “what are you doing?”

When he was done, he threw the linen scraps and forced his way between her thighs.

What followed was a humiliating and mortifying display of his domination over her weakened body. Raven struggled initially, but after taking a couple blows from his heavy fists, she relented to the abuse.


Though Raven had a few times given her body to men unwillingly, she had never been violently raped before. She knew that it was an experience which stayed with a woman forever, but then, she was strong, tempered by the streets of Brazelton.

She took herself to her sanctuary at Lion’s. She imagined her green walls and embroidered bedding. Her eternal summer filled her mind. She heard the familiar tune which she loved and Cherie’s laugh as she played with the little music box.

“You are even sweeter than I thought you’d be,” said Dimata, “and never mind your plain appearances; your accommodating flesh makes up for it.”

Raven felt like vomiting. She tried to push him away with her hands, but he held her down to the floor, his face right on top of hers. She turned her head to the side so that she’d not have his breath in her face.

“That’s right,” he purred, “I know just what you like.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled hard, turning her face right around to face Martin. “Your tightness is a pleasant surprise,” he hissed in her ear, “for one who has probably been ridden hard in her life. If only all whores could please a man so much as you do.”

His breath beat her about the face as he grunted into her ear, thrusting harder against her though she held her thighs as tightly as she could. It was the ultimate cruelness, but she felt relieved when she felt his release and prayed that he’d leave her on the floor and not touch her again.

Though Raven had had to relent to the abuse, she had not allowed him what he really wanted from her. She had not cried out or begged. Indeed, when Dimata rose from her she still did not move or make a sound.


“What think you now?” Dimata shouted, buttoning his codpiece and buckling his belt, “have you still nothing to say to me?”

Raven thought he was speaking to her, her eyes still closed, but when she opened them, she realized that he hovered over the kneeling bard. Martin’s head hung, his gaze upon the grimy stone floor where Raven’s blood had spilled.

When Martin still said nothing, Dimata kicked him in the ribs twice and then punched him in the side of the head, knocking him cold. Martin crumpled onto the stone floor, face first.

Dimata left the cell, his guards in tow, taking the torch with them.
 

Caged Maiden

Staff
Article Team
I see we have 637 views and stars have no idea what the gold stars mean, but the idea of unpacking scenes in context of emotional creativity is important to the development of engaging scenes and the story flow
1 - the difference between a static scene and an engaging one is emotional iq
2 - how is this achieved
by planning
what does the plan consist of
an emotional characteristic map of your characters and what you wish to convey to the reader
the reader must carry with them the emotional objective of the scene and how they view that piece on information in the broader context of the story
3 - this will then move the story forward [hopefully]

I completely agree. And sometimes I write scenes which I'm very proud of. This sequence is not one of them. I cut it up about a year ago because I thought it was too graphic, but then I never really touched it because it didn't move me, you know?

I really need to learn how to slip the right sort of emotion in at the right times to make a scene like this have maximum impact so I can cut out the erroneous words. HA! Luckily I'm not too proud to post a scene I know is poorly executed. Hey, this is how I learn, and I appreciate that you are taking the time to teach.
 

gavintonks

Maester
I went through hell and back and read some big sellers to find they made the same mistakes but then went back to classics and the penny dropped, they plan the emotional tags to the sentences, and if you watch AI you will see how Kubric weaves emotion into each set, it is almost another movie the way he crafts the emotions

I sometimes despair when I realize how many times I have read and corrected and get to a place and think how the hell did i miss this
 

gavintonks

Maester
The nights in the cell were worse than the days. The sounds from above told her that she was near the dockyard. Metal bells clanged on ships and gulls screeched in the bay. As Raven made her way to the middle of the chamber to look up into the night sky her sensitive ears picked up something curious.

Start from a point
waking groggily from her stupor, on the filthy mattress, she was shivering, and the midnight sky refused to tell her what time it was.
she ached in every muscle, her face throbbed, and from far away she head a gong, 'must be my funeral she thought," until she realized it was the harbor bell.
timing she would hear the noises from the time she was incarcerated
seagull sleep at night if I remember unless their is strong light

Outside her cell and down the hall a door opened.
she could not know thi she would only be aware of a noise

Raven knelt at her door. She could hear voices; one of them belonged to Dimata.
the place is so still she probably could hear from her mattress,

she recognized Diamata voiceF“Have you found anything?” she knew that snivelly whine anywhere.
Imagine the character talking and how you would describe the reaction their words bring



“There was nothing in her room.” said the other voice, “and The Lion is displeased to have lost his little bird. He has been asking questions around town. We may have to move her.”
This seems vague as which room are you referring too?
I like the rest its conspiratorial, then think of a emotional ending of how to describe the tome of voice, I could just catch the words as he dropped to a whisper
his words sounded a little tense, he was genuinely concerned about the lion finding out about him
I sear their was fear in his word,s it gave Raven hope and a bit more fire to hang on she had hope


“Her companion, the bard is being questioned by Torvu,” said Dimata. “If he doesn’t know anything, we can use him to make her talk.”
look at time as well, I am waiting for the information from the other interrogation
maybe she should hear some screams from he Bard and she feels bad for bringing him into to this
“If she knows anything, I will get it out,” said the other man, “she cannot lie to me.”

The emotion
groggy
tired
helpless
hears voices gets some hop
pain and aches, bruised resolve to keep going
time night

The men were almost at her door, so on quivering knees she crawled back to the mattress.
she pulled herself up against the wall she did not want them to think she was beaten
as being tired would be difficult to get to the mattress in time / distance from opening the door

The two men entered the cell, Dimata led, followed by a man whose very presence sent chills up her spine. His hair was blonde and his eyes cold blue. He stood several inches over six feet tall and a hideous scar ran from his left eye to his jaw.
He wore a dark cloak over his dark clothing, adding to his frightening appearance.
Dimata flustered into the cell, the guard held the door so he did not have to touch anything
he glared at her, bring her here I am not getting my shoes filthy again
The two guards grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her roughly to her feet, her blood screamed through her veins and pins and needles made her cry from pain. her muscles locked and bunched from of use as she tried to conserve her energy
tears of pain welled in her eyes and she let out a breath, "if ever I felt like dying its now' she thought, nothing could be worse than this

raven lifted herself and staggered with them refusing to allow them to drag her aching body, with as much dignity as she could muster she looked into the raid damins eyes.
he laughed at her and stepped aside, it was unexpected and caught her breath, in her throat, this was not possible, just when she had hope he killed it, she knew now her life was in gods hands and this odious man - the butcher of camelin - hse knew his reputation and recognized him from the scar that puckered a sneer from his damaged lips. His teeth showed from the ugly healed and torn flesh.

i have no idea who the pov is so I am just rambling
she did not excpet sAs the strange man approached her, Raven could sense his aggression. This is not a man who plays games, she thought to herself.

Raven stood as he drew near.

# he smiled and her heart froze, she said in a whisper, "you cannot intimidate me.' her voice was rough, but she knew he was not convinced. A abrasive laugh was her answer as the idiot mage cackled with glee he knew he had her

The intimidating man stopped, and Raven fought hard to not show her fear. She inclined her chin to meet his gaze. Silently he studied her face.

$ try and avoid man - it is impersonal give the characters substance
the guard pulled her head back, she gasped between her teeth, but could do nothing, the butcher studied her his next piece of meat, he studied her what he was going to cut
she tried to stare him down but those ice blue eyes held no emotions and no care for any human,- she knew the meaning now of ice blue eyes

“Leave us,” he demanded of Dimata, “I will question her alone.”

# you have one more chance or he will get what I want to know, :his words were stark and she knew he had won. The butcher leered at her, he dropped his tongue so it fell over his teeth and clogged he hole of his missing lip.
raven had never seen anything so bestial in the form of a man

Dimata left without a word. Neither Raven nor the interrogator took any notice of him as he went.


4 need silent affirmation with body language
he knew what D wanted and, her silence was acknowledgement to proceed

Much to Raven’s surprise, the man spoke softly to her, “If you sing for me, little bird, I will free you from your cage.”
“I do not know the words to the song you wish to hear,” she said.

“Tell me where the crypt is located,” he said.

“I cannot,” she said, “I don’t know anything about it.”

He grabbed her chain in his hand and jerked her forward a step. “I warn you not to try my patience,” he growled. “I want to know where to find it.”

The guards still held her head back, he gently removed his hand and replaced it with his, he was a huge man, and she felt small and helpless in his arms, he leand over she smelt his sopa, he was clean, he did not even wrinkle his nose at her smell, he pushed his face right next to her ear, she could hear the snuffling air drawn through his damaged lips, he spoke clearly despite the impediment, and sighed in her ear, she felt she was the only thing in his life, 'litle bird.'he whispered. his compulsion wormed its way into hr, she desperately wanted to please him,"little bird," he whispered again and then easily held her in one hand, he drew a small vial and dropped some sweet moisture on her lips. the delicate smoothness was out of place, it intoxicated and she relaxed feeling distant, 'little bird he said agin and she whispered back yes

you may leave us now he instructed the guards
“I don’t know,” she said.

“What town?”

Raven shook her head. “I have no guess. I have never heard of it before.”


Violently he pushed her, driving her back into the stone wall. He pressed his weight upon her body and said, “Surely you do. Think back to your childhood. Where did you live? What did your parents do for a living? What did the land look like? What town were you raised in?

His voice was forceful. Raven wracked her brain at his command.

“I...,” she stammered, “I never met my parents. I was raised by an old woman. We lived in a cottage near a great forest. Lode was the nearest town, but it was quite far. We barely ever went there.”

“When I was eleven, I came alone to Brazelton and worked as a laundress. I am not a mage’s heir, nor have I any key. I know nothing about a crypt or a treasure.”

She was near to tears despite her efforts to remain composed. “I cannot help you find the crypt. Even if I were the heir, which I am certain I am not, I remember little of my childhood. I do not have any answers to the questions you ask.”
He let go of her and backed up a few steps.


litl ebird I need to know your secret, little bird I need to know you tale, he sang and it was so sweet, she did not understand whn he slapped her and the stinging pain brought her back to his eyes, he smiled Little bird it was harsh a vulture and she the prey
 
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