Warning: As the title states, this is a very nebulous idea. Nothing is really set. There's a couple scenes that I have written out, just because they were really good and I didn't want to forget them, but most everything is up for throws. I just want to hear from you guys what works from what I have, and what would be really clumsy. I don't want to be halfway through and realize that some kinda big part of the plot is just unwieldy and needs to hit the trash bin. Ya know? Also (and this is aimed at you Mods, but anyone can chime in), if anything gets too specific, please tell me. I don't want to cause any problems. Also, if anything isn't clear, quote it and I'll try to clear it up. And it'll probably be really unorganized. Please bear(correct word?) with me.

                                                        Now! On to the show!

Okay. Let's try this.

There's 7 houses in the realm (don't have a name yet) six of which are noble houses, each of which is associated with a certain type of magic. The seventh house is the Freeman's house, which is made up of everyone that is not a member of one of the other houses. The realm is ruled by a King, queen, prince, princess, etc. who belong to the Royal House, which is supposed to be proficient in each of the six types of magic. Magic is a really common thing, something everyone uses every day.
The six types of magic are as follows:
Nature Magic: Usually Farming, Wood working, Sheperd, Hunting, etc. Most common type of magic.
Medical/Blood Magic: Doctors, veterinarians, etc.
Industry Magic: Crafting silverware, making swords, basically working with metal.
Earth Magic: Mining, crafting with stone, constructing stone buildings.
Nether Magic: Working with Fire(which isn't seen in a positive light), possessions, ghosts and the undead, banishing (or summoning) demons, and certain nether forces.
Battle Magic: Taking things from other types of Magic and using them for battle. Strengthening steel, healing small wounds, working leaves, grass, branches, to create cover. You get it.

And I'm getting really tired, so I'll post the rest tomorrow. Sorry.

One of my buddies is trying to register for the site, but he hasn't gotten his registration email yet. He's resent too and its been a couple weeks. I remember this happening with me too. Any way to expedite the process?

Okay. Right now I'm at a scene where the character has an internal confrontation with light self, dark self, and beast self. I'm right at the beginning, and I'm not sure where to go with it.

I just wrote this today, and i was wondering if you guys could give it a read. I'm just wondering if there are any grammatical errors or sentances that need to be restructured. It's a rough draft, and only the first chapter, but i would appreciate some feed back.
Story 1
Prologue
An average kid. That’s all I was. Or so I thought. Through some genetic quirk, a misread messenger RNA, I became a Warden. A shape-shifter who walks between the light and the dark. Corny as it sounds, that’s what we do. We keep the supernatural away from the unknowing. They don’t know what we do. What we go through. The pain, the loss. We protect them from the supernatural. Faeries, vampires, all sorts of unsavory characters. And we also protect them from themselves. Rogue wizards, Warlocks, Necromancers, name it I’ve fought it. And beat it. Me and my Brothers. For we are Brothers, united by a single gene on the Y chromosome. Trained from age ten, to become the guardians of mankind. Sentinels against the darkness. Wardens.
Chapter 1
I was sixteen years old. I had just finished my apprenticeship, and was on my way to my first post. Oxnard, California. September 2, 2011. I got out of the plane and the first thing I notice is the air. Thick. Full of smog. A far cry from the mountains of Scotland where I did my apprenticeship. The second thing I notice is the heat. 75 degrees and humid as hell. For a guy used to the cold mountains of Scotland, it was a big shock. I was at Camarillo airport, just a few minutes from my new apartment. I jumped down from the wing of the small one engine plane my Brother had flown me in from a small airport in Nevada.
   I looked around and saw my Brother walking to a car in the small parking lot next to the tower. I grabbed my two bags and followed.
   It was an average grey truck, not too new, not too old. The kind of truck Wardens preferred. They weren’t really noticed, and there were too many for the Police to effectively track. I threw my bags in the back and hopped in the cab. My Brother hadn’t talked at all during the air ride, except to talk to the towers on takeoff and landing. He was Hispanic, about five foot four, five six. Clean shaven, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Average guy on the streets of Oxnard. His file said he was forty two, but he looked to be about twenty six. We drove the ten minutes to the apartment in complete silence. I had a feeling he didn’t speak much English. When he had talked to the towers, his English had been heavily accented. Northern Mexico, I thought.
   We pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building. Clean, no suspicious people around. I saw some kids running around playing tag, saw some people relaxing in the Jacuzzi or doing laps in the pool. My Brother led me up into the building, up a flight of stairs and into my apartment.
   It was a standard two bedroom, one bath apartment. Kitchen, living room, dining room. Nice T.V. in the living room, an X-box 360 under it with a good supply of games. I dropped my bags on the couch and looked around. Fridge, full of food. Cabinets with plenty of canned stuff in them. I walked into the first bedroom. Queen sized bed, nice looking mahogany dresser and head board. Closet full of clothes in my size. Jeans, T-shirts, a pair of nice slacks and a couple dress shirts with ties and jackets. I looked down and saw a shoe rack with running shoes, hiking boots, dress shoes, and a pair of tennis shoes.
   I poked my head in the other bedroom and saw that it was much the same, except the bed was a king sized and the closet was full of women’s clothes. Huh. Who else was living here?
   I walked out into the living room and my Brother was standing there, a can of Coke in his hands. He motioned for me to sit down on the couch, and sat down in the easy chair. I opened my mouth, but before I could ask any questions my Brother started briefing me.
   “We’ve had reports of Faerie and demon attacks in this area lately,” he said, in heavily accented English. “They have mostly occurred at a local high school. Rio Mesa. There is a group there, called the Inquisitors, who have somehow discovered how to summon and control Faeries and demons. They have had the Faeries and demons attacking students they don’t like. Jocks, popular kids, and nerds. We want you to infiltrate this group, so you’re going under cover. You’ve already been enrolled in Rio Mesa. I know,” he said, holding up a finger to forestall my protests, “that you have learned more in your apprenticeship than you will in high school. But you’re the only agent we have that was close to the required age. This file,” and he slid a thick manila envelope across the coffee table to me, “has information on every member of the group we know of. There is also some information on the Faeries and demons they usually summon to do their dirty work.”
    He hesitated for a second, then continued. “There have been over thirty attacks, ten of which have been fatal. They all occurred at the school last year. There have been no attacks over the summer, but we believe that they will start again once they’re at school together. You have to infiltrate and stop them before they can attack someone again. If you can’t, at least try to stop the Faerie or demon before it hurts someone.”
   “Is there any ingredient or object  that they use that I could track?” I asked.
   “They appear to use freshly slaughtered cows as an offering. The nearest cow farm is two hours away, so they definitely have to make a special trip. The father of one of the kids is a butcher, so they use his truck to transport the cows. If you see them take off in that truck, follow them. Odds are they’ll be getting ready for an attack.”
   He stood up and opened the door to leave, but before he could I asked him, “Brother, what kind of force am I allowed to use?”
   He paused in the doorway and answered without looking back, “Lethal. This group must be stopped. If you have to sacrifice yourself to stop them, do it. They can’t be allowed to continue to kill innocents.” He left without a second glance and closed the door behind him.
   I sat there for a few minutes, absorbing the briefing. I studied the file on the group. Twelve members, six guys, six girls. Four sophomores, four juniors, four seniors. Two of each gender in each grade. I memorized their faces and names, and what sports they did. All of the guys did wrestling, the girls did soccer. They all did track at the end of the year. Good. I could bond with the guys in wrestling, then meet the girls later.
   After an hour of reading, I put down the file on the kids and picked up the one of the Faeries and demons they were summoning. Some very nasty characters indeed. Four Faeries, including a high ranking troll and the leader of a troop of Hobs. Where could they have gotten the summoning spells for these guys? I doubt even the leaders of the Wardens had access to these spells. Another mystery to solve.
   I heard my stomach rumbling so I made some Mac ‘n’ Cheese, then I showered, found some shorts in the dresser, and hopped in bed. I must have slept a while, ‘cause when I woke up it was pitch black outside. Suddenly I heard someone walking down the hallway towards my room. My heart beating fit to burst, I silently got out of bed and jumped to my bag. I opened it and dug through it furiously, aware that the sound of footsteps was drawing nearer. I finally found what I was looking for: my twelve inch dirk in its ebony sheath. I silently walked to the side of the doorway and drew my dirk, waiting. I heard the footsteps pause outside my doorway. Then I slowly heard the doorknob turn and the door slowly open. I waited five seconds, then grabbed the door and threw it open. I charged through, my dirk ready, and tackled the person waiting outside. We wrestled for a few seconds, then I ended up on top. I flicked the light switch on and was suddenly looking at a very beautiful woman.
   She was white, about thirty eight years old. She had long black hair, hazel eyes, and a face beautiful enough to melt any man’s heart. I stared at her, then suddenly she smiled and said, “Dear, can you please get off me? This isn’t very comfortable.” Her voice was low, a slight accent to it. Pennsylvania Dutch?
   I slowly helped her up, then asked, “Who are you?”
She smiled and answered, “Why, I’m your mother Jack.”