However! If I solemnly swear to start haranguing stories as they come as a kind and fellow writer should, would you guys mind helping me out a bit? I have a short story of mine (very short, in fact, as short stories go) that I'd like to start submitting to magazines, contests, and what have you, but I'd like to get it picked apart first. It's been a _long_ time since I worked with it, so admittedly, much proverbial dust must be blown off before I could view it with much quality.

So, without further ado, the sacred 13 (conveniently and coincidentally enough, also the first two paragraphs of the story) --

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Raelk hesitated in the open doorway of the tavern. A glance over his shoulder beheld nothing but a maelstrom of snow, but before him was a disaster of noise, a crowd of ruffians and gangsters -- general chaos. People disliked him and he disliked people, but the place had food, and his stomach had already scolded him enough for not bursting in and ordering something. He sighed and drew his cloak about him, covering what he could of his warped body, throwing the hood up and casting his scarred face into blessed shadow. He could feel his eyes still flicker occasionally with a soft magical iridescence, but he couldn't help that, and it was likely that the denizens of this place wouldn't notice if he didn't draw their attention.
He stepped toward the bar along the back wall, carefully detouring along the outskirts of the room to avoid contact with the thick of the crowd. Sliding onto a shaky stool, he nodded to the tender, careful to avoid eye contact, though a scar coursing along across the man's left cheek held his vision for longer than he'd intended.

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Any takers? I promise, it's a very fast read. =P

(edit to adjust for the lack of html slash ubb)