/lit/ - Literature

>>3814947
Check you are privilege.

Sup, it's me again. I'm writing a story (which I don't intend to do anything with it per se, it's chassis for my role-playing game, for which I have neither funding, or graphical skills but hey a man can dream) and I need people, native English speakers, do examine my prose, and tell me how readable and grasping it is.

So here are some exerts, if you would kindly read them and tell me what is right and what is wrong. THANK YOU.

>Cart stately headed by a mule made way through the unpaved road amidst the large, empty plain. Of her mates, Alptakin was lingering off the cart, marking their way with an old, worn-off mast ― Arsalan, frustrated with cold, was trying to sleep, and Togur was tucked beneath the woven blanket, sound asleep. The mist was clearing out, and beauty of the plain was becoming more visible to her eyes. After nearly one and a half year of riding on the Turanian plains, she would still feel golden hair on her torso stand erect at the sight of elastic steppes, tall mountains afar, and ponds of fresh water at each corner and feverous musk of nature nuzzling her nose ― a scent which the most skilled apothecaries had yet to recreate.

>With a little trouble, Marku unlocked the bolt and was confronted with a pitch black staircase which he could barely see its first steps. He carefully and slowly descended, thinking he would fall and roll down at any second. He managed to avoid that, only to find himself in complete darkness. It was cold, like winter, and he could smell the dampness of his surroundings, but he could not see anything.

Thanks again.