Broken Bones

Introduction
Broken Bones is a book written by Pencil. It was created on November 25th, 2012. It will be written in first person. It follows the story of John Bowe, a young 22-year-old man living in Syria. The year of the story is 1199 to 1202.

April 1199
My name is John Bowe. I live on? the coastline of Syria. I live in? Acre. A peaceful city encased in cobblestone walls. It borders the ocean. I live in my home that is in a narrow pathway.

As I wake up with the morning sunlight greeting my tired eyes, I slowly rise up from my sleep. I look out the iron bars that face the back of my home, as the area behind, for? it takes a sudden descendance.

I put ony my brown, leather boots and put on my clothing. I step out into the busy alley-way. Many strangers greet me with simple "Hello, sir." and "Greetings, friend."

I walk quietly, pushing people to the side gently. All I have on my mind is to get to the fruit stand. Merchant Malloway was selling grapes, a nutricious add-on to my day's meal. As I take a left, I see the fruit stand about twenty yards away. I finally reach the stand.

"Malloway, my friend, how goes the grape harvest today?" I ask, greeting him.

"Oh, John, it's simply wonderful. Red, green, and even purple, ripe grapes. For you, only five coins a vine. Take your pick, son." He replied.

I look between all the produce and I decide to purchase the purple vine of grapes. For my stomach is in search of a sweet meal.

"Thank you, sir." I say, walking away, waving.

I decide to walk home, as I observe all the children playing and all the adults talking. A priest is yelling, warning us of soon-to-come events.

As I walk, a woman in rags comes up to me..

"Please sir, my family is sick. Can you please spare the coins? Please sir, do not leave!" She says, in a raspy voice.

"Ma'am, I pity you. Please, take the remainder of my grapes. It is all I have to offer."

"God bless you, John Bowe." She says.

I wish I had coins to offer to that woman. But hopefully it will suffice for her family.

As I decide to head home, I see a small group of templars crowding around a corner in the road. I walk up, out of curiousity. A man is holding a woman by her shirt, punching her in the face, and yelling taboo words.

"What is this man's issues, sir?" I ask a templar spectating the affair.

"Some fool beating his wife, probably food-related issues."

? ?