The village was humble, no more than a few huts and tents clustered around a small oasis. A way station, a watering hole between much greater destinations. And yet I found myself here, not between destinations, but staring up at mine. The villa was set apart, high on a sandstone bluff. From that vantage it would be easy to spy on the merchants and armies and beggars wending their way along the ribbon of road through the desert. It had a wall and iron gates, but it was not a fortress. It was an oyster, and inside was the treasure I needed to pluck.

I waited two days before climbing the footpath to the villa. Two days of increasing desperation for those within the walls. Outside the gate a palm struggled to grow and I tucked myself into its shade where I was sure to be noticed.

Thanks much for the comments! As always they get me thinking. Here's a second try with the character not the setting at the center. The rest of the info in the first attempt is spread through a few pages, which hopefully fits better with a novel length work.

I leaned into the sliver of shade cast by the crumbling wall and picked over my plans yet again. I’d made the promise so easily. And the journey seemed almost as simple as I pored over maps of little yellow hills and quaint drawings of camels. But the intervening weeks of panicked travel lay thick as the dirt on my skin, and the heat of this desert inferno had beaten me nearly senseless.

The wall I slumped against encircled a village, a few huts and animal paddocks clustered around an oasis. A very small watering hole set along an obscure ribbon of highway. Over the course of the day it was likely every villager, man, woman, child and dog would come to glare at me at least once. They had already followed this ritual for the last two days. There wasn't

I did have some trouble picturing the scene and I think it might be partially due to sentence order. For instance:

quote:

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The villa was set apart, high on a sandstone bluff. From that vantage it would be easy to spy on the merchants and armies and beggars wending their way along the ribbon of road through the desert. It had a wall and iron gates, but it was not a fortress.

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It was confusing to me because it goes from villa, then to road, then back to describing the villa. I think it would flow better if you were to start with the road and then perhaps end at the iron gates of the villa perched on the sandstone bluff - drawing the reader's eyes along the way one would follow a road leading to a summit.

Also, while I can definitely picture it in my mind, I think the scene would become even more alive if you included other sense descriptions. For instance, is the MC sweaty and sticky under the desert sun? Is he cooled by the oasis breeze? Is there a smell coming from the beggars and pack animals if any?

I liked the setting in the first version better but the first sentence in the second was better for a First. The first version had that bit about your MC wanting the inhabitants of the villa to see him-her-it that attracted my attention but the second one doesn't have any of that. In the second I wondered why your MC was standing there and why the villagers were glaring at the MC but it wasn't the same as that one line in the first version.

The second version seemed darker to me, that could be what you wanted but the first drew me in better.