Here's an excerpt from a story I've sporadically worked on here and there. The overall theme of the story, I won't tell, but this bit opens up with a boy named Tarvin who excels at climbing. He's the head honcho for a group of orphans who are broke. They're in a city divided up into different Quadrants, with poverty level and gang activities varying. They happen to be in one of the dirtier parts of the city, the Southern Quadrant, where gang activity is rampant and poverty levels are extremely high. I figure that if I show you guys what I have, I might be motivated to revive it. Here goes.

The moment Tarvin's feet met the cobblestone road, his arms began pumping and his legs driving, and he sprinted forward away from two armed guards who shouted after him from the rooftop. Both dropped down, but lost ground as the quick Tarvin pushed through a crowd gathered at a merchant's stand. He weaved through many angry customers and ducked down by a small crate. Four teenage girls were looking at him, but he shushed them, hoping that they would comply. To his great joy, they helped to conceal him, moving in a way that blocked the guards from having any view of him. A moment passed, and one of the guards rushed by, knocking one of the girls backwards, but she kept her balance and turned to Tarvin when the guards passed.

   "You're cute. You should come back around when you aren't being chased and see me," she said as she brushed her long, brown hair to the side.

   "Perhaps I shall!" Tarvin replied. He stood to his formidable six-foot stature (tall for the land) and winked at her.

   Tarvin turned to face the wall, placed his left hand in a knotch and his right hand on a light fixture, and pulled himself up, gaining his footing in two smaller knotches in the side of the building. A few strategic maneuvers later, and he overlooked the small section of the South Quandrant's marketplace, many eyes gazing upwards towards him. He gave the girls a grin before running southwest across the rooftops, jumping across the narrow gaps between them.

   He'd never liked the city, but given his circumstances, he had no choice. He vaguely remembered his childhood, having spent a few of his first cognitive years in the countryside, where houses were far apart and the land was massive. His family tended to a variety of different animals, but he always preferred handling the sheep. "You'd be a fine shepherd," his father would always say. The furry animals loved him. His tender heart matched theirs, and often he would go out at night and gaze upwards at the heavens, his head resting on the back of the largest sheep in the herd.

   He always said he'd do anything for the safety of those sheep; it was as if they were his children. At first, his father trained him to handle a knife so that he could learn to clean fish, but when a pack of wolves moved into Tarvin's area, his father found that the boy was talented in defending his beloved animals. One night, a pair of wolves slipped through a break in the fence and began attacking the flock. This was one of those nights Tarvin was outside, armed with his knife, and dispatched the two wolves without a single sheep being killed.

   He was seven at the time, and that had been over a decade earlier. Now in the city, he disdained violence and strove at all costs to avoid it. Tarvin's tall stature and long legs helped this; most aggressors either balked at the idea of fighting him, or they could not keep up with him.

   On the rooftops, Tarvin utilized the full-speed sprint to its fullest. Clutching a small bag in his hand, he bound over another gap in the buildings before dropping down in a small square surrounded by buildings marked by the letters, "SQG" - the South Quandrant Gang. He'd always groaned at the unoriginality of the name, but none of the other quandrants' names were any more original, so he'd learned to accept it. He walked to the middle of the square, where a stone fountain depicting a boy raising one hand up, as if offering the Quandrant something. Nothing was in his hand, however, as whatever had been there was stolen. The fountain was dry and had been as long as Tarvin could remember, a sad reminder of the situation he was in.

   Today, however, offered a brief reprieve from the sadness he'd grown accustomed to. In the pouch contained three gold pieces - not silver, but gold. With that money, he would approach a merchant in the morning and order food - lots of it. On this night, though, he would have to eat from the remainder of his last catch, and that was not much.

   "Tarvin!" a voice sounded from behind him, and he turned around to see the small, frail, yet charming girl Sally rushing towards him.

   "Sally, don't run! You're still sick!"

   She ignored his plea and flung herself at him. He wrapped his arms around the young blonde of about ten years and lifted her up. "I have quite a catch today!"

   Sally began to cough, and Tarvin turned his face. He wished she'd listen to his order, but the girl was always so stubborn. "The illness won't win," she'd always say. This time a month ago, however, it almost did.

   "What'd you get, Tarv?" she asked, her sparkling blue eyes looking up at Tarvin's brown ones.

   "Three pieces."

   "Three?!"

   "And not just any three pieces. Three GOLD pieces."

   "Gold?!"

   "Bravo, Tarvin. You've saved us for another week," a sarcastic tone rang out from Tarvin's right as he released the young girl.

   "Dyllon, why are you always so cynical? This is GOLD we're talking about. Worth a hundred times silver and a thousand times the bronze I'm always getting. I can practically buy a merchant out with this!"

   Dyllon, a five-foot six boy around a year younger than Tarvin's nineteen, walked towards the two. "Gold pieces, huh? You must have gone out of your way to attain that. As in, East Quadrant territory? You look winded, as if you've been chased! SQG's leaders will have our heads if they find out we've been stealing in an area right after we've agreed to stop fighting with them!"

   "Dyllon, it is my responsibility to take care of-"

   "Your responsibility at whose expense? Taking care of the children does not mean have the gang's leadership come to our regiment and annihilate us! We are the smallest of all the regiments, and the leadership literally gives us no money for any supplies. We're fortunate we're not right on the border of the Western gang, but with the way the war's been going, they'll be at our doorstep soon. We cannot afford to have you go against leadership's orders and take matters into your own hands. We can live day-by-day if we have to, but you can't go into Eastern Quadrant and steal from them!"

   "I got this from a castle official to the north, Dyllon. I'm not going into-"

   "You WHAT?!"

   "I-"

   "You attacked a castle official?!"

   "Pickpocketed, Dyllon. You know I won't attack someone for money."

   Dyllon studied Tarvin carefully. "You're not lying. Look, I'm sorry I jumped the gun, but we have to be mindful of our position in this world."

   "Tarv," Sally interrupted, "will you carry me to the house?"

   "Of course, Sally." He gave her a grin, then looked back to Dyllon. "Tomorrow, we're going to have a feast. There are only fifteen of us, so I figure one gold piece would cover that. I'm going to use another one for armaments. If the war's going as bad as you say we're going to need to be ready. The third, I'm going to hold on to."

   "What good will holding that money do?" Dyllon inquired.

   "I'll store it in case of emergency. After our feast tomorrow, me and a couple of the boys'll go out and collect money for the weeks to come."

   "That sounds like a GREAT idea," Dyllon said, rolling his eyes.

   "It is. This is the first time our regiment has run across gold, and I'm not about to squander it."

   Dyllon studied Tarvin again. "Whatever you say. You're the boss, but I feel like I'm the only responsible one around here."

   Tarvin ignored Dyllon and picked Sally up. "We're going inside now. Come and help us eat what's left. You look like you could use a bite to eat."

   Dyllon immediately placed his hand on his stomach, and pointed his finger at Tarvin's back as he was walking away. "That's not funny."

   "It's not meant to be a joke. You're obviously cranky and you're looking extremely thin. If the war is coming to our doorstep, we have to be up to strength." Tarvin wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and opened it. "Come on. There's enough for everyone; we don't have to ration tonight."


I spent some time patching up and editing, just to make sure the product came out looking okay. Let me know what you guys think!