El Festival De Muerte

[Iriah Caitrak]

Ira swallowed as the metallic taste of blood permeated her mouth. She wasn’t going to let this creature get any kind of satisfaction from seeing that she’d caused her to bleed.

“What’s wrong little Calerian, did that hurt?”

Her eyes narrowed as the being before her mocked her plight. This was her corruption, this was the creature she had to face and she had to face her alone. No Storm to help her anymore, he’d already done his part. From here on out the fate of both of them rested in her hands and with those two hands she had to tear this bitch to pieces.

Slowing coming to her feet, Ira formed her two Half Swallows in her hands, Uriahd and one blank one, one with no name.

The corruption smirked, twisting Ira’s own face into something grotesque and disfigured, something so evil and demented she knew she would never look like this.

She crossed the small distance between them in seconds, holding her weapons in front of her she made for a quick jab at the beings stomach. But as she extended one clawed hand to knock the attack away, Ira faked out of it, shifting her weight and stopping her forward momentum, she spun off to the side and sliced open the creature’s arm and then attempted to stick her like the animal she was.

Clang!

The blade of Uriahd bounced harmlessly off of the creatures armour.
Stunned by the fact that her attack hadn’t worked, Ira almost missed the attack that the corruption had coming her way. Noticing it just in time she raised Uriahd and blocked the sharpened claw only to have another one come in at her unprotected stomach. But the beings claw bounced harmlessly off of Ira’s armour as well. It seemed that neither of their weapons could damage each other’s armour.

“Calerian whore, I’m going to rip you to pieces!”

I didn’t know virgins could be whores…

Ira dodged the sloppy attack, five sharp and glistening metallic claws descending towards her face. The second one she didn’t notice and four of the digits sliced through cloth and easily cut through the tender flesh of her thigh. Pain exploded and Ira jumped back, nearly falling to one knee as she looked down to see the bright red liquid pooling out of the wounds and soaking into her clothing. It was at that moment she noticed the wound on her copy’s arm, it was bleeding yes, but it was bleeding black and the substance seemed too thick to be blood as if the corruption itself was seeping out of her.

The copy didn’t give her long to think about it though; she quickly leapt at Ira, claws at the ready. Ira brought up her half swallows and the creature’s claws landed on the rods, inches from her face and chest. But the force of her attack knocked Ira flat onto her back with the corruption on top of her. Reacting quickly, Ira wrapped one of her legs around the creature’s and then rolled the two of them over, Ira coming to rest on top. With a hand covered entirely in armour, Ira reared back her arm and punched her copy right in the face, then attempted to stab her through the throat.

Uriahd missed by centimetres and instead plunged into the soft wood by the woman’s head and Ira was thrown off the creature by a powerful kick to her stomach.

Landing on her back once again, Ira quickly scrambled onto her feet and formed Uriahd once more in her hand, the one buried in the wood having already disappeared. This was futile, in order to banish the corruption Ira would have to strike at her heart, but she couldn’t do that because the armour protected the creature. Her attacks bounced right off. And likewise that was probably the same area this creature needed to strike her at to overcome her soul and take full control of her physical body.

This seemed like a battle already lost and won at the same time, the corruption couldn’t win, but neither could Ira. Not unless she had armour piercing weaponry.

Ira froze for a brief second, a weapon that could pass through armour and directly attack the soul.

The blades of her Half Swallows began to glow a soft blue.

The corruption cocked her head slightly to the side as if wondering what she was up to, “What are you doing?”

Ira smirked and ignored her, instead of answering her with words she leapt at the creature. One blade passing horizontally in a swipe meant to behead. The creature ducked down below it and when she made to kick Ira’s legs out, she simply jumped over the attack, landed and kicked the creature in the face with her armoured foot. Rearing Uriahd back, Ira plunged the weapon towards the creature’s heart, who didn’t seem too worried about the blade until it passed through the very armour meant to protect her as if it wasn’t there.

The look of shock and pain was almost too much for Ira to watch. Even though this wasn’t a living person it was hard to see a look so reminiscent to what a human would do when stabbed. With the blade still stuck in the creature, black liquid began to slowly climb up Ira’s blade and slither over her hand. It felt like liquid ice and numbed every part of her flesh it touched. Her heart beat tripled as she tried to let go of the weapon only to find she couldn’t move and the black liquid finally crawled up her arm and then across her armour, where it buried through the Irenian crystal and into her chest.

And then darkness…

[Iriah Caitrak]

She felt sick.

Her stomach was an ocean during a swelling storm. Bile rose from within and threatened to choke the air from her throat. Ira was forced to roll over onto her side and pass whatever contents had decided to resurface onto the ground then choke and cough as she attempted to breathe air into her lungs once again.

Her fingers flexed around the material beneath her, soft to the touch and warm as well. Slowly, she cracked her eyes open and blinked and squinted a few times. They felt sore; her whole body felt sore and cold, ice cold for some reason. She couldn’t remember ever being this cold and her body began to reflect it, small goosebumps trailing up her arms and shivers wracking her entire form. She felt like curling up into a little ball until she could feel warm again.

Realizing that what her eyes had focused on was in fact a tan coloured wall, Ira slowly eased herself up with her hands and felt the weakness in her muscles. Light was coming from somewhere near her and she could feel warmth as well but her entire body felt so weak she wasn’t sure if she could move. But colour…if there was colour she couldn’t still be within her soul could she? She had to be out, she had to have defeated the corruption but the last thing she remembered was the corruption digging into her body.

Feeling the muscles in her arms give out, Ira fell back onto the floor and rolled onto her back. Her eyes staring up at the ceiling, the same tan, but it looked so familiar to her…

“Ira?”

Even that disembodied voice sounded familiar.

“Ira…?”

Yes, that was her name.

“Ira?”

Why was it being so persistent?

Something warm touched her bare arm and Ira looked down to see Gereint kneeling beside her, his blind eyes staring at her face and searching for her there and the relief that washed over him almost made her cry with the realization that she had done it. She was out of her soul; she’d actually defeated the corruption.

“Gereint…”

The old and withered shaman smiled, creating more wrinkles on his face but Ira didn’t care, she loved each and every one of them.

He reached for something out of her peripheral view and when his hand returned he was holding a cup. Moving closer to her, he carefully helped her up into a sitting position.

“Here, drink this, it will help bring your strength back up.”

Ira nodded her head even though she was unsure if she could keep the liquid down. It didn’t taste that great but she didn’t care if it was going to help her. Unfortunately, drinking it reminded her that there were some other bodily functions that needed to be taken care of as well but a more urgent issue popped into the forefront of her mind.

“Storm…”


((Alright, you're up Storm. You should wake up a few moments after Ira does and if you remember from way at the beginning of the quest, you were placed beside Ira, so beside her you shall wake up.))

[Storm Veritas]

He awoke to fear.

The earth around him looked scorched, and he coughed hard with what felt like a lungful of ash behind it. The world felt scorched, and his skin was covered with a light gray dust. He also felt something prop him up, something hold him. A tender-tough, as it were, with long, slender fingers and slate, steely eyes. That smooth, perfect narrow nose, those Nordic cheekbones… Ira was alive.

Get away.

His instinct pulled him back. It didn’t feel right, not with her wrapping her arms about him, treating him as a child in mother’s arms. He had seen everything, fought most, and barely lived to tell about it. No, whatever festered in this lovely woman’s soul was impure, he decided. He didn’t know what to make of it. Had he saved her? Had she saved him?

Kicking his feet, his body contorting in agony as he pulled away. Wide eyed and scared, he felt like an animal as he looked at her, unsure of what he was seeing. She was at once beautiful and whole and terrifying, and for once the wily Veritas was at a complete loss for words.

For a few seconds, anyway.

“You… you’re… You’re alive! Oh, Ira… I’m so sorry.”

His lips trembled, and stomach turned. It pained him to admit it, even to himself. He couldn’t do this. Not now, not after what he had experienced.

“Ira, honey.” His eyes were low and weak. “This, this place is awful. I can’t stay here. I can’t be here. Something in me was taken here. Some part of me is f*cking gone.”

A part of him really was torn, aside from physical pain he could not localize. Something had gone terribly wrong here. Something was awry within him. The festival, the girl, the other place, the corruptions… He couldn’t place anything on this feeling that was positive. His feelings for Ira bordered love, but his fear of her was even more powerful.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Her face fell the moment he tore away from her, the moment she saw the look in his eyes. Her whole body slumped, whatever energy, whatever happiness had been evident upon her features was now gone, wiped away in the few simple words that he said to her. He couldn’t stay here, he didn’t understand what had happened within her soul, she barely understood what had happened within her soul but most importantly he now thought there was something wrong with her, she could tell, there was fear in his eyes, fear that hadn’t been there before.

She wanted to reach out to hold and comfort him in some way, but even as her hand rose to do this she stopped herself and the limb fell lifelessly to her side.

“I…”

She started but stopped; she didn’t know what to say to him, words could not comfort him now. If she could take it all back she would, but she couldn’t and her actions were going to force him to live with some kind of consequence.

The Calerian sighed, straightened herself out and then steeled her face, leaving it void of emotion even while underneath a storm was brewing.

“Gereint, take care of him…”

The old shaman nodded his head, his lips parting as if he were going to say something then closing when he thought better of it.

Taking one last look at Storm, Ira slowly stood up, still a little wobbly and then marched out of Gereint’s tent. The bright light of the sun blinded her the moment she took a step outside. She closed her eyes and pressed a head to her forehead, which was throbbing. Heat hit her body like a hard slap to the face and it felt so nice. It was cool inside of Gereint’s tent and within her soul there had not been a feeling of temperature, but now that she could feel it she never wanted to go without it again.

“Ira?”

She opened her eyes just enough to peer out and see the concerned face of Messia as her friend approached her. Her ice blue eyes searching her as if looking for there to be something wrong or different, Ira didn’t know which, but she didn’t like the look. It made her feel as if her friend had not been expecting her to return from the darkness she’d fallen into.

“Not right now, Mess…please just leave me alone.”

Her friend stopped in her tracks, a pained look coming over her face, but she didn’t come any closer, she didn’t ask any questions, she just watched as Ira stumbled towards her tent.

Once in her home, Ira breathed a sigh of relief and quickly took care of those nagging things her body needed her to. Then she ate, after her stomach settled down and the world stopped spinning she realized she was famished. While she was eating, she put a few pots of water over the fire and poured them into a large tub once they were hot enough. Soaking in the water brought all her muscles back to life at the same time as relaxing them. Not to mention she didn’t feel so disgusting now that she was actually clean and not still covered in the paint from the dance. She should have asked Gereint how long she’d been soul searching before she left, but the look on Storm’s face, she couldn’t have stayed another second and endure that look even if she wanted to.

Taking a deep breath, Ira leaned against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. No matter how much she tried to clear her thoughts she couldn’t get the image of Storm out of her head.

What did you expect from him, for him to be happy once the two of you were out of there and embrace you and think nothing of it?

As stupid as it was, in a way, she had expected that him.

How different things were in the light of day.


((Spoils:

Katasi (The Graveyard): Ira now has the ability to travel to her soul whenever she wants or needs to. Travelling to her soul allows Ira to talk to Irenia and also battle and overcome the corruption she takes within herself at any time. Irenia still has the ability to force Ira into her soul at any point in time and when this happens Ira will be forced into a state of unconsciousness reminiscent to a deep sleep and cannot be awakened. One of the many areas within the Graveyard is in fact a graveyard that is littered with many of tombstones, of which have names carved into their surface. These tombstones hold the power of Ira’s fusions and she must challenge the fusion and win in order to obtain its powers.

Samdham (Fusion): Ira has a special ability that allows her to use the corruption that a Calerian accumulates from releasing souls, instead of just expelling it from her body. Ira uses the accumulated corruption and fuses with it, turning herself into a more evolved Calerian with completely different abilities depending on the form she picks. Fusions are also the only form Ira can use magic in. Abilities from one form cannot be used in another form and though abilities Ira has in her normal state can be used in Fusions, Fusion abilities cannot be used without Fusing. ))

[Storm Veritas]

He knew as he backed away that he had crushed her. It was a horrible thing, but the only way. There could be no trust in her without understanding, and the time to understand could draw him back into peril. She was a sweet girl, a mystifying woman, someone who had swept him off his feet and make him question things he had never questioned before. With her, he was more selfless, more kind, more fair. With her, he was a better person, and he knew it.

So why leave? Why not stay? Why not try?

It was a question that would follow him for years, even though his supposition made sense. She was too dangerous, too unknown.

“You should follow her. I see it in your eyes. I see it in hers.” The words of the old man were kind and true, and behind his sun ravaged skin Storm saw an intelligence in the eyes of Gereint. The man was a kind healer with a soft touch and knowing, soothing voice. He was smart.

“Maybe I should, old man, but life isn’t that simple.” Storm winced as a treated cloth was applied to his hip, where a deep cut ran along the hipbone line under the abdomen. He couldn’t remember where the wound had come from, what he had done to procure such a thing. Wounds came too commonly here. Too dangerous, indeed.

“You fear her love, boy, not her power.” Gereint sighted as he stepped back, resting gingerly on a soft stretch of cloth upon the floor of the tent. The rug was ornate and beautiful, like so many idiosyncracies of the strange place.

Storm stood slowly, nodding to the old man in slight reverence. “If love were the only thing I had to fear on this crazy place, it’d be a new home, old man.” He sighed, grabbing at wounds that were bandaged and tightly wrapped. He would heal well. “Now I thank you, my friend, but I must bid you leave.”

The words hurt. Not only were they the same cookie cutter pieces of diplomacy he had used so often in Radasanth, but they were a lie. He did love the girl, and was afraid to lose her again. He couldn’t stand to kill her, or build up that love and watch her die. He had seen love die in his arms before, and it did a terrible thing to him. It made him hard, detached. To lose another…

No, don’t think about it. Keep moving.

He left the tent, the sun high and bright over the beautiful, secluded little town. It was a lovely place, with more community than all of Radasanth. It would be a good place for a family, for that lovely bride and child to call his own. A good place to stop and settle.

Don’t think about it.

He had to make Ira a memory. He had to beat feet and make it back to the boatline, hitch a ride, put this place behind him. Had to forget about his love. He was doing it for her, or so he would tell himself, and there was nothing worse that he could do. He was leaving the opportunity for the change in his life, leaving something pure and true. A wonderful woman, alluring and stunning and gorgeous.

He was doing it for her, or so he would tell himself. Making the mighty sacrifice so she would not be with such a terrible man as himself. He didn’t want to be harmed, and it wasn’t just his fear that drove him from town.

Lies of convenience, it seemed, had fast become convenient. He left Salvar alone, with no one to blame for the isolation but himself.

[INDK]

Great work guys. I’m going to recommend this for a Judges’ Choice!

And the total is 82

Storyline

Continuity: 8. I felt that I wasn’t well introduced to the things about Storm that I needed to be in the introduction. Yeah, I know who the character is, but I can’t judge these threads based on the fact I’ve read previous ones.

Setting: 9. Storm’s thoughts really make the setting come to life.

Pacing: 9. This was almost complete marks, the only thing that stopped it in my mind was that the conclusion fell a little flat, especially from Storm. It was still fairly good, if conclusion was still a category I’d have given you a six or seven. However, it was just not good enough in my mind to merit perfect marks for a pacing category. Finish stronger next time. See the conclusion as a way of selling the importance of the adventure one last time.

Character

Dialogue: 9. This was a very strong area, in particular for Storm. One thing I really like about the way you use dialogue is that it isn’t just used to further plot along, but as a device to bring so much more to the table.

Action: 7. I can’t say I could get behind everything Storm did. Nothing was really implausible, but especially towards the beginning, a lot of his decisions really didn’t seem to me to be the ones he would make.

Persona: 6. I felt there was a bit of a disconnect between the persona of Storm before and after the trouble breaks out.

Writing Style

Mechanics: 9. A few copy editing things that wouldn’t have been caught on Word were what stopped this from being a 10.

Techniques: 8. Ira, when you are listing two rationales, make sure you present them in a way that doesn’t overemphasize the one that would seem to be more petty. Storm, I really liked the way that you used terms that made the experience more Fallien-esque with your metaphors.

Clarity: 9. No real comments.

Wild Card: 8. I really liked how much you guys managed to do here with a plot that was really quite simplistic.

Spoils
Ira Shinkara receives 3460 EXP and 600 GP
Storm Veritas receives 5700 EXP and 600 GP

[Cyrus the virus]

EXP added!

Stormy levels up to 8. Ira ALMOST levels!

Good job dudes.