That Which Can Never Be Taken Back

[SirArtemis]

Artemis arrived at the docks with his hood up, hoping to appear incognito and avoid a potential encounter with the City Watch or even Victor again. A part of him hoped that he would see Silas again, thanking the man for taking the initiative to save the woman. However, none of that mattered any more. The only thing that mattered was Artemis' need to get away, and so he wandered the docks.

With the morning sun peeking over the waters of the delta and casting its golden glow on the countless ships docked in port, those who sought an early start cast off on their ships, hoping for a better catch than the competition. Stalls were set up selling countless wares and the normal bustle of a capital city began to fill the boardwalk and many streets of the center of the Corone Empire. The sound of gulls crying out over the shore and the crashing waves hitting the wooden pillars that supported the docks mixed with the shouts and cries of haggling and greetings. One would never imagine that just hours ago a wealthy man's mansion had been cleared out and countless men killed for the sake of revenge over love, nor would they expect what was still to come.

Artemis found his way into a small tavern by the waterfront and sat by a window, looking out on the shore and cautiously seeking a way out of this dangerous city. Perhaps he would board the ship that he had just departed, heading back home to safety. Then again, maybe something else would come up and give him a quick reason to get away. Regardless of how the young man expected to leave, one thing felt for certain – if Victor saw him again, he would shoot him and kill him.

Still, Artemis did not hold a grudge. A piece of his heart felt a tinge of pity for the heartbroken man, the vagabond thinking back on the years he spent running away from his own past. He did not feel like revenge would truly make Victor Callahan feel free and satisfied. After all, if you live enough of your life just for revenge, what is there after that? Artemis just hoped that Silas had gotten to safety and so did Mrs. Devir.

He thought back on the dehlar safe that he had found in the desk of Devir's office, his curiosity leading his thoughts to imagine the countless possibilities of what secrets lay inside. He hoped that whatever was there, it might have brought some peace to the gunslinger and his vendetta. Because if not, Artemis could only wonder what Callahan would do if he found the man who had killed Aicha, and what that would do to Victor.

[The Cinderella Man]

She isn’t alone.

There are four other people in the study on the second floor and Victor recognizes them as soon as he sets a foot inside the door. They are the few that had stood by the woman at the funeral, the gloomy quartet that had escorted her to the carriage. Though they share little in ways of hereditary lines, he knows they’re probably family, relatives that had the courage to stand next to her in this blowout. But they are startled by his entry, their faces sporting those dumb expressions a person gets when someone catches him in the privy with his pants down. Angela DeVir doesn’t share their emotional state, though. Her swollen, bruised face rises from the papers she had been sorting moments ago and her eyes are like gun barrels, shooting bullets at the visitor. Victor’s hand falls to the holster, fingering the shotgun partially as an unspoken threat and partially as reassurance from the assaulting glare.

“You four, leave,” he growls. Two look like trouble, strapping fellows with blades at their hips and feigned bravery in their posture. After several seconds of dead silence, their hands finally listen to their minds, making quivering moves for the weapons. A voice, sharper than any steel, stops them.

“No! Leave us. You are not a part of this,” Angela orders them, but none of them move. A loyal bunch. Blood thicker than water and all that. “I said LEAVE! I will not have your lives on my conscience.”

Still they stand, but her eyes are adamant and soon they depart in regretful silence, knowing they are likely looking at Angela for the last time. The two women – a niece and an older sister by the looks of it – pierce the dark man with their eyes, certain their gender would save them from any retribution. Victor doesn’t even register them as they scurry out. His eyes are locked on the beaten woman on the other side of an overly large writing desk.

“So, you have come to finish your business?” she asks. She struggles to keep her voice flat, emotionless, but there is a wistful undertone to it. Nobody save the insane faced death with apathy. But she doesn’t cry, forces herself not to. She would not give this bastard the pleasure of breaking her completely. “Fine. Do it. Finish it.”

It is still not too late for him to back out. The last of his rationality cries out to Victor Callahan, imploring him to leave this foolish notion of redemption. But he doesn’t walk away. Instead, his feet take him closer to the woman, slowly, softly, the steps of a man walking to his own hanging, dragging out each step as long as possible. But those seconds pass and now he’s in front of her willowy form, standing defiantly against his dark onslaught. She never flinches, never shivers. She only closes her eyes and waits for the fire and smoke to take her away. But they never do.

She opens her eyes and sees the man on his knees. In his hand is the dastardly weapon that murdered so many, but it’s turned the wrong way. The trigger end is inches from her folded hands, the twin barrels staring Victor Callahan in the face. It was the right way to go. Live by the gun, die by the gun.

The first gunshot struck Walter Jimes in the back, just above his tailbone, cutting off his legs from beneath him just as he ran up the gangplank and onto the main deck of the boat. The fallen man screamed out in pain, but before he even tried to get back up, a heavy boot landed on his back, pinning him to the ground. Aicha thundered in the pre-dawn again, drilling another hole in the man’s back and piercing one of his lungs. But that wasn’t enough for the gunslinger. He took a step away, pulled his foot back and struck at Walter’s ribs with all his might, growling like a rabid beast as he did so. The kick sent the shot man rolling on the drenched deck, his tumble ending with him on his back and crying out in pain.

“Stop this!” the shadowy figure shouted from somewhere, but Victor didn’t even register Silas’s arrival. He was death incarnate, haggard and bloodied, only his burning lust for vengeance pushing him past the multitude of injuries he had acquired in his mad dash. He didn’t know how many times he had been shot and cut back in the warehouse; the entire battle was just a blur of gunfire and the drumming in his ears and Aicha’s blissful face crying out from the depths of his memory. Pain didn’t matter. Fatigue didn’t matter. This was the crowning moment of his life, the one shining moment that would justify all the grim ones. He knelt next to the man, cocked his gun, grabbed him by the hair and brought it to the face that had haunted him for a decade. The only problem was...

“You... You’re not Walter Jimes.”

The face that looked back at him from below was not the one he had expected, not the one he desired to destroy for so long. There were none of the smarmy, self-content lines on the face of his victim, no snake eyes looking up, no thin lips smirking like a man who knew something you didn’t. It was just a man, looking a bit like one of the fellows in the portraits back in the DeVir mansion, coughing blood and wheezing as he struggled to breathe.

Victor dropped Jotham’s head and stumbled away from the dying man, his face struck by disbelief. The cold shower of reality struck him like a two-ton hammer. This was not Walter Jimes. This whole charade had nothing to do with Walter Jimes. Now that there was an innocent man bleeding out at his feet and he looked back at it all, there was really nothing connecting this whole case with Walter. Nothing other than the name on that file. But why? Why would they deceive him so? Was it Leeahn’s doing? Did the Major play on the card of his vendetta, knowing he would stop at nothing to bring this man down? Victor didn’t know. All these questions were bringing him back to the cold, hard present, where the world was still bombarded by the heavy droplets of rain and constant barrages of the thunder gods. He sat back on a spool of rope, gun in his lap, raising his face to meet the downpour.

Jotham DeVir tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth were gurgles as he drowned in his own blood. Victor didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t help the man – no healer could at this point – but the thing that shocked him most was that he didn’t really care to help this man. He listened to his deathly throes and looked at the watery red pool spreading around him, and he felt... nothing? Nothing but more rage, anger at being shortchanged again, wrath towards his superiors. Was this all that was left of him? Just a shell of a man containing an infinite amount of fury? And if that was the case, what was he supposed to do? Shrug it off? Keep on keeping on? Or do something about it?

He got up and walked away from the dying man. Silas was standing on the deck by then, and though Victor couldn’t see his eyes, he was certain they were peering from beneath that hood. And he didn’t care. He walked past the cowled figure without a moment’s pause or a word spoken.

[Silence Sei]

There is no sound more chilling than the groans of a man that is slowly dying. The mute had tried to cast his trademark spell, tried to conjure the glass that could save the life of Jotham DeVir, but it was all for naught. He had been too late, and Victor Callahan had emptied the contents of his gun into the body of his target. The executioner seemed to turn his victim over, probably still enthralled with the thrill of the kill, only to realize what Sei had tried to warn the man of a few moments too late. The Mystic could see the mistake that the man had made through the story his eyes told.

Jotham was in agony, and Victor Callahan's response was to get up and leave the man in an immense amount of pain. As the gunslinger walked by his former ally, Sei removed the hood from his cloak. The orange hair caused the boxer to look towards the now not-so-mysterious stranger. The mute stared fiercely into the mocha eyes of the man. Victor hid his regret well, masked further by a light smile coming from the man. What started off as a grin soon turned into a mocking laugh, a type that truly grated on the telepath's nerves when added to the dying man behind him.

"The self-proclaimed Hero of Radasanth, huh? Sorry if I don't bow at your feet."

"Finish your job Victor. You know he will not recover. Do not let him suffer."

"It's not my job anymore, hero," there was a sting to the boxer's words, he then continued on his way, his shoulder making direct contact with that of Sei's, "Interfere with my revenge again, and you'll wish you were in DeVir's shoes." Sei ignored the threat of the man while making his way over to the dying DeVir. Each step upon the wood planks leading to the man seemed to be some of the slowest steps that Sei had ever taken. In all of his years, Sei had killed in self-defense, he had killed to eat, he had even killed for sport during some of his darker days. There were numerous times that Sei had killed for one reason or another, but this was the first time he would kill out of mercy...

And he hated it.

Sei kneeled down, looking into the pleading eyes of the dying man. The mute closed his eyes and picked up Jotham DeVir, holding the suffering man close to his breast. Sei's skin shivered as Jotham breathed heavily into the Mystic's chest, his heart slowly going from a furious speed to a slow pace. Sei could feel the man try to struggle against him, but the Ranger was far too weak to put up a fight. Steady tears rolled down the face of the telepath while he suffocated the man, finally releasing the poor soul once all movement and breathing had ceased. He stood guard over the body until the dawn's light broke through the windows of the warehouse. He would not allow any would-be robbers to commit sacrilige in this tragic building. The mute certainly did not look forward to telling the wife of the deceased of her husband's fate. Sei would pay for the funeral, and give Jotham a burial he truly deserved.

While the entire area around Sei filled with a certain kind of gloom, and all the mute could think about was Victor Callahan. The coward who would not take responsibility, the man who sought to kill for petty revenge, the man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Sei despised him, detested him with every fiber of his being. The kind of person who would do this to someone was no man at all, but a snake in the grass waiting to strike at the next innocent that wandered into his path. The mute could not allow for such a rampant beast to continue to travel in his city. Sei would find the animal, and put him down at all costs.

Sei Orlouge would not rest until Victor Callahan was dead.

((Spoils - Sei requests that 500 GP be deducted from his account to pay for the funeral of Jotham DeVir))

[The Cinderella Man]

How did it come to this?

Victor doesn’t know. The path he had been walking on seemed so clear at the time, his determination fueled by what he believed to be righteous fury. He didn’t see himself as a murderer then; he was God’s own instrument of justice, bringing the world back in balance one bullet at a time. All the way to Walter Jimes. Walter was the end that justified all means, and the means were dozens and dozens of deaths that he had caused on his warpath. He didn’t kill all those people. They signed their own execution papers the moment they associated themselves with Walter Jimes. It was alright to end them. Hell, he was doing the world a favor.

Only, this whole thing had nothing to do with Walter Jimes.

Leeahn Festian knew about it all along. Victor had confronted the Major on the morning after he shot Jotham DeVir like a dog, walking into his office and bleeding all over his good carpet. The Commander of the City Watch had tried to placate him, offering empty words and half-truths, but Victor saw through it. Leeahn knew. Maybe he didn’t know the details, maybe he didn’t want to know the details, keeping himself on the need-to-know basis just as he kept Victor. Because it was easier that way. If you had a rabid dog on your leash, you didn’t try to talk sense into him. You set him loose and hoped it wouldn’t turn around and bite you in the ass. Victor almost did. He was a heartbeat away from blasting Leeahn out of this world and into next one before he realized it wouldn’t matter.

None of it matters. Nothing save the fact that in his madness he went and did to Angela DeVir what Walter Jimes did to him all those years ago. Sure, the circumstances were different and Jotham wasn’t exactly blameless – he was a Ranger spy after all – but that didn’t change the fact that he murdered Angela’s beau in cold blood, shot him out of spite, in anger, shot him and enjoyed the pain that he had caused. On that night, as he had walked away from the dying man, he thought he could live with it, push the bad mojo aside and chalk it up to disinformation. But soon he realized that every time he closed his eyes the scene replayed itself, and sometimes Jotham was Aicha, and sometimes Jotham was Walter, and sometimes Victor Callahan was Walter on an oddly similar night ten years ago, shooting his beloved in his head.

Now he kneels in front of Angela DeVir, waiting for her to deliver the final liberation from a life gone horribly wrong. He cannot live with himself anymore, his shoulders unable to bear the fact that he is turning into the man he so thoroughly hated. His eyes are closed, the scene in his mind on an endless loop, and he waits for the thunder that will take him away.

But it never comes.

The sound of the shotgun hitting the floor brings him back to reality, where Angela is looking down at him with such hatred in her eyes that he feels she doesn’t need the gun. She can stare him to death with those daggers in her blue eyes.

“I will not shoot you, murderer,” the woman says to him, her voice low and cold. “Not because I don’t want to. I do. Oh, believe me that I do. But death would be an easy way out for the likes of you. No, it’s life that will be your punishment.”

She turns her back to him and looks out of the window, the silky white curtain billowing around her dark form. For the longest time she doesn’t speak, the silence in the room deafening, chilling. “I don’t know what set you on this path of destruction,” she finally says. “But I do know that by walking it, you became nothing but a killer. You’re like a ship in a storm; you’ve lost your rudder and now you’re hitting everything around you. And it’s only a matter of time before you utterly destroy yourself. And once that happens, you won’t need me to pull the trigger. You’ll do it yourself.”

“Now leave.”

He obeys. He never says a word. What could he say? That he was sorry? Apologies don’t cover things like this. He picks up his sawed-off like a beggar picking up alms and he stumbles out of the room. The DeVir family members stare at him as he passes through the foyer, but he doesn’t even notice them there. One of them could probably stab him in the face right now and he wouldn’t make a move to defend himself. Such was the power of her words. They struck harder than fists, harder than hammers, harder than bullets.

Victor knows of two things that can never be taken back once they were unleashed: words and bullets. And after tonight he is certain that of the two, the words hurt more.

((SPOILS: Victor loses 560 GP as per rules of the Blitz. 280 of his GP goes to Sei and 280 to SirArtemis. This is regardless of what we earn for the thread. Also, as for my spoils, just some extra GP for killing a Ranger spy (500 if possible, so I kind of break even. ))

[Sagequeen]

Plot Construction ~ 24/30

Story ~ 9/10 – I have to give kudos to you guys for telling two stories at once. I know it couldn't have been easy to make the timing seem as natural as it was. The narrative hook here was most compelling, and present tense of it dropped me right into the action: you see, I already know the ending. Or at least I thought I did. There were interesting dynamics of antagonist and protagonist. On the surface, it would seem that Vic, Art, and Sei are our good guys, taking out a nasty Ranger spy who leaked information that lead to an attack and deaths. However, while Sei and Art maintain the good-guy persona, Vic's is tarnished from the beginning and gets worse as his true motives are revealed. The reader can, to an extent, relate; who wouldn't want revenge for the murder of an innocent? The facade of man vs. man progressively reveals itself through the course of the story to a man vs. himself as Vic realizes he is becoming the man he has been hunting. The twist ending wasn't just an afterthought – it is foreshadowed and absolutely necessary to the story.

Strategy ~ 8/10 – There is no doubt that the main character here is Vic, and he drove the story very logically. It's the tragic tale of a man consumed by the lust of revenge, only to be robbed of both it and his humanity. I don't need to read his character sheet, but if I did, I feel confident I'd find only supporting information. Sei's presence is well explained; he likes to do good yet in doing so much good he's got to do it now incognito. He had a pivotal moment in the story, saving the woman, and Art made that possible by his sense of right and wrong – and his quick adaptation when things suddenly took a turn for the worse. However, I'm not sure why Art is there; it seems he's just drifting, and I didn't get his hasty departure; it felt unfinished. It was a strange thing for him to make an appearance at the docks... and then nothing, except for a somewhat awkward wrap-up for his character.

Setting ~ 7/10 – Let's see if I can explain this: there were good descriptions of the different places, but in some areas the description was lacking, especially at the DeVir mansion and inside the warehouse. What I saw a lot of were front-loaded sweeping descriptions and little consideration after.

For TCM's posts, the setting felt as though I were inside Victor's head, viewing the landscape of his sanity, and the world around him from his point of view. Considering his plot, this is a very good thing.

One thing I came across a few times was the use of cardinal directions as a description. This would be okay if I had some sort of reference, but I did not. One example in post 11:

“When the two at the sidewalk had met one another, only to turn around, the telepath followed the one walking east.”

This gives me nothing. To my east is a large, windowed studio-wall; what actually is to Sei's east? Is it the part of the lawn that butts up against the neighbor's, or perhaps the road? Maybe east is toward the mansion; I don't know. Without a point of reference or a visual, the description is lost to the reader.

There was a setting/continuity issue in the DeVir study – starting with the bookcases. First described as a single, small and black, Art's beautiful description later doesn't match. Overall the different posts give the impression of different rooms.

Characterisation ~ 22/30

Continuity ~ 8/10 – You guys did well here. There was very little that left me not understanding what was happening, or having to go back and read again. One shaky area was the bridge between posts 10 and 11, noted below. Also, the various descriptions of the DeVir study, as noted earlier. The story was centrally based on Althanas' current main event – the Corone civil war – and was true to canon. Additionally, it's a major blow to the Rangers to lose such a high-ranking spy, building on Althanas canon.

Posts 10 and 11: Vic makes a past tense reference to Sei's advance on the mansion. Then in post 11, we go back in time and Sei makes his advance. It's... awkward that the reader is asked to go so far back in time with little explanation or point of reference.

One other thing: Why would Art have taken a boat from Underwood to Radasanth? He was visiting his dad in Underwood, right?

Interaction ~ 7/10 – There were a few issues with some of the action.

Post 9: If Jotham DeVir pays for so many security guards, then why can he not afford a decent lock? The neglected lock goes against most everything said about the mansion, including a reference to fresh paint and other well-kept things.

Post 11: This reminds me of MMO's and aggro radius, where any given guard is mostly blind and mostly deaf. If the guard on the railing would have been asleep, it'd have been easier to swallow.

Post 11: However - I like the way Sei made use of the guards' poor choice of pathing. Should they have kept their pace and walked the same direction, one would have always been watching the other's back.

Character ~ 7/10 – To start with Vic, excellent character development. I cannot offer any criticism here; he is very well written. Well done!

I get a sense of Sei – enough was explained that I come to know him. He had growth/change: he will hunt down Vic and kill him. He acted in a way I would expect him to act from what is presented in this story.

Artemis – I didn't see a lot of growth. I saw action, but it mostly seemed as though he were swept in the wind from event to event, and it didn't affect him at all other than a shallow reflection on his exit post. I also don't get his motivation for helping, or even the reason he's in Radasanth. I see he's got a tie to Knife's Edge, but is he a drifter? Still, you presented him as a good guy, hinted at his not-so-good past, and he didn't really break character at any point. However, I am left wondering why he made such an awkward exit and where he went from there.

Post 9: “Artemis did not understand the reference.” Well you do get your point across, but it's important to let your character and his actions tell the story. Instead, something like: “Artemis gave him a confused look,” would have achieved the same purpose while allowing the characters to tell the story with action instead of the narrator.

Post 10: Here's a gem: “and every second Victor expects, almost hopes, she would look in his direction again with that sharp accusation stabbing at him like broken glass. But she never does.” This, in my opinion, is the epitome of writing. It captures a little piece of everything that is important about writing and packages it in a neat, little collection of sentences. It is also a very subtle foreshadowing of the interaction that will occur later between them.

Writing Style ~ 24/30

Creativity ~ 8/10 – As I mentioned before, interweaving the two stories was a device that really kept me interested. I truly appreciate that it's written in present tense. The reader is standing there with Vic as the story is told, knowing someone died. We assume it's Walter. I wonder who the mysterious woman is until she is finally revealed.

Everyone had some real gems in this category, especially TCM. Kudos.

Post 11: “He had less to patrol, and an easier view, so it made sense that this guard would be a bit lackluster in his duties.” I think the action/setting/description should show this instead of having to explain this. Show it by taking him out, which Sei did.

Post 13: Nice foreshadowing with the portraits.

Mechanics ~ 8/10 -

I want to address the way I docked points for mechanics. TCM: your posts are riddled with sentence fragments. Absolutely salted with them. If I were to dock points for that, you guys would be in the 2-4 range... and I would have done an incredible disservice to your well-developed tone and style. None of the fragments hurt clarity, and in fact, your use of them only added to your posts. It's a fine line to walk, breaking the rules, but you were able to do it. So, what I have done is look for errors that, in your posts, don't match your style or are just outrageously flagrant. Sei and Artie, you have presented more mechanically correct styles so the consideration there reflected the style you were hoping to achieve.

Post 11: “Even as he left the incognito bush, the mute's brisk pace seemed to not make a single sound upon the grass bending beneath his feet.” The bush is in disguise? Incognito used as such doesn't convey the proper meaning. I saw this in another later post as well.

One common error I see is the use of 'was' in the place of 'were' in regards to dealing with 'if.' For example if I 'were' to fall off a cliff, I might die.'

Additionally, be careful using the word 'you.' It breaks the fourth wall and points at the reader. I know, I know. All the cool kids do it. It's a shame I'm not cool.

Clarity ~ 8/10 – Altogether strong. My only problems here were in regards to:

Post 9: “Artemis said as he switched his vision to the infrared spectrum.” I do know what this is, but a little more explanation for someone who doesn't might be helpful. My character, for example, can unleash a bolt of energy. That is not uncommon and needs little explanation. However, for a person's actual vision to switch to infrared is not common (in fantasy ). The more creative abilities require more explanation since you must assume your reader has not read your character sheet. Otherwise, the reader might just think you are wearing goggles.

Post 10, 11: Noted above about a break in the action. TCM gives the impression that Sei is already in, then we got back to see Sei fight his way in the mansion.

Post 10: “All things considered, it was a good start. If he had went solo, Victor figured he’d already be about two dozen bullets shorter with half a neighborhood aware of his presence.” On first read, I thought he'd be cut down by 2 dozen bullets. Perhaps a clearer sentence would have 'shorter' replaced with 'short.' Otherwise it either reads that he was shorter physically, or he had fired his weapon already, neither of which is true.

Post 11: A new reader won't get “The Sound of Madness” here. Until I read the last sentence, I thought Sei had simply used his telepathic voice to call out to the guard, distracting him. The name is cool – just wish I knew more about the actual ability.

Post 15: I am assuming the metal of the box is magic-resistant, but it's not stated as such.

Wildcard: 9/10

This was a great read. All of you show moments of brilliance where I feel I should take note. Well done!

Total ~ 79/100

The Cinderella Man receives 1138 EXP and gains 90 gold.

Silence Sei receives 1580 EXP and loses 100 gold.

SirArtemis receives 774 EXP and gains 390 gold.

(Taken into consideration: TMC loses 560g as per Blitz rules, 280g goes to Sei and Art each. Sei pays for DeVir's burial at a cost of 500g. Victor gets his blood money to the tune of 500 clinking gold coins.)

Additionally, I would submit this for consideration as a Judge's Choice. The dual stories and exceptional foreshadowing deserve the recognition.