Hi, I would like someone to check this for me please for grammar, spelling and wheteher I'm using the bolded (vocabulary) words correctly. It would be nice to know if the storyline was interesting or not.
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He was perfect - perfect in every sense of the word. Well...at least to us he was. It was so difficult to find someone so willing, so docile...so malleable. And he was. He was all these things. Getting a sleeper onto the throne was not an easy job. There were many requirements to fulfill so that our plan could work. It was an ambitious plan; it promised salvation to those in despair and despair to those who believed themselves promising. However, as promising as our plan seemed, it was difficult and dangerous. Firstly, our sleeper had to be royalty. It was unquestionable - no man could be emperor unless he had royal blood flowing through his veins. Yet, our sleeper did not have royal blood. So, with a flick of our wrists we made him a certificate of nobility. A simple piece of paper had converted him from a peasant into an eligible king. He had no name, so we gave him one - Amalric. We told him it was a fitting name for an Emperor, the name of a former King of Jerusalem. He did not protest.
When we first found Amalric he sold jewelry, sculptures...anything metal. And like the metal he shaped we found that he was shapeable as well. We had thought that molding him from a simpleton artesian into a refined lord would be difficult. We were wrong. Amalric was deliciously subservient. He followed our every word, our every step, our every action. He was a quick learner and an exceptional protégée. There were times when we wondered if he perhaps did have royalty in him. But of course he didn't, because if he did he would not have been so complacent, so quiet, and so obedient. Poor fool, for all his intelligence he was still simple minded. With all his knowledge he was still ignorant. With all his exposure he was still naïve. We had exposed him to a world of caprice - world of elegance and sophistication. And within that world we had exposed him to a world of corruption and perfidy. But he remained the same in being. Amalric was still the nameless artisan, unblemished by the world of power and politics. And that was why he was so perfect - he had no beliefs, no ideals, and no opinion. He was simple, susceptible to nothing political.
So now that we had our main pawn ready, a more difficult matter had to be faced - the true Emperor. Now the truth of the matter was the real emperor possessed no threat for he was on his death bed knocking at death's doors. Nevertheless, the real threat laid in his successor - a spoilt boy, a boy who held the world in the palm of his hand and could easily crush it with a clench of his fist. Just imagining that brat on the throne making decisions for the empire on the behalf of his whim made us squeamish. What would become of our country, our empire...our people? The idea of having no control over our nation was shook us sick to our very cores. We placed every bit of faith in our plan. We had faith in that false certificate that named Amalric first successor, relegating the brat back to where he had been. It was only a matter of time before we had our sleeping Amalric on the throne. The throne that belonged to that spoiled spoiled Henry the VII.
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He was perfect - perfect in every sense of the word. Well...at least to us he was. It was so difficult to find someone so willing, so docile...so malleable. And he was. He was all these things. Getting a sleeper onto the throne was not an easy job. There were many requirements to fulfill so that our plan could work. It was an ambitious plan; it promised salvation to those in despair and despair to those who believed themselves promising. However, as promising as our plan seemed, it was difficult and dangerous. Firstly, our sleeper had to be royalty. It was unquestionable - no man could be emperor unless he had royal blood flowing through his veins. Yet, our sleeper did not have royal blood. So, with a flick of our wrists we made him a certificate of nobility. A simple piece of paper had converted him from a peasant into an eligible king. He had no name, so we gave him one - Amalric. We told him it was a fitting name for an Emperor, the name of a former King of Jerusalem. He did not protest.
When we first found Amalric he sold jewelry, sculptures...anything metal. And like the metal he shaped we found that he was shapeable as well. We had thought that molding him from a simpleton artesian into a refined lord would be difficult. We were wrong. Amalric was deliciously subservient. He followed our every word, our every step, our every action. He was a quick learner and an exceptional protégée. There were times when we wondered if he perhaps did have royalty in him. But of course he didn't, because if he did he would not have been so complacent, so quiet, and so obedient. Poor fool, for all his intelligence he was still simple minded. With all his knowledge he was still ignorant. With all his exposure he was still naïve. We had exposed him to a world of caprice - world of elegance and sophistication. And within that world we had exposed him to a world of corruption and perfidy. But he remained the same in being. Amalric was still the nameless artisan, unblemished by the world of power and politics. And that was why he was so perfect - he had no beliefs, no ideals, and no opinion. He was simple, susceptible to nothing political.
So now that we had our main pawn ready, a more difficult matter had to be faced - the true Emperor. Now the truth of the matter was the real emperor possessed no threat for he was on his death bed knocking at death's doors. Nevertheless, the real threat laid in his successor - a spoilt boy, a boy who held the world in the palm of his hand and could easily crush it with a clench of his fist. Just imagining that brat on the throne making decisions for the empire on the behalf of his whim made us squeamish. What would become of our country, our empire...our people? The idea of having no control over our nation was shook us sick to our very cores. We placed every bit of faith in our plan. We had faith in that false certificate that named Amalric first successor, relegating the brat back to where he had been. It was only a matter of time before we had our sleeping Amalric on the throne. The throne that belonged to that spoiled spoiled Henry the VII.