Remember The Fallen

[Reine]

If she closed her eyes, she forgot all about where she stood and what she should be doing. She forgot about the stupid staff of great magical and historical importance. She forgot about the guards who could be waking up in only a few more minutes and she forgot about how she'd given herself to Eric before only to have him call her by the name of his dead fiancé. Never before had she let a man touch her the way he had. She couldn't help but remember the feel of his hands on her body, the rough calluses and scars as they slid across her stomach and her ribs, as his hands cupped her breasts. His mouth and the soft light kisses, the way his teeth grazed against her inner thigh before he parted her most private area and teased and tortured her with his tongue until she practically begged him to stop.

Even now she still wanted him.

"Eric..." His name sounded like a whispered plea and his hands tightened on her shoulders.

Feeling more in control of her own body, Reine slowly and reluctantly pulled away from Eric. As she moved to step away though, his hand wrapped around her upper arm like a vice. She spun, poised to strike at him but he merely deflected her feeble punch and grabbed her wrist. In two steps he crowded her back against the glass display case. She gasped as the corner dug into her back and forced her to bend a bit. His face only a few inches from hers. His eyes searching hers for something, his breathing shallow.

"Faelynn...I..." His voice sounded strained.

He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed and she breathed in that familiar smell. Old leather, sweat, smoke and something indefinably him.

The vice grip on her hand and arm loosened. Reine pulled free and ran her hands up his arms, feeling each muscle bunch under the leather and cloth as she touched them. Annoyed at the material between them, she ripped her gloves off and sighed as she felt his hot skin under her cool touch. Her fingers dancing up the contours of his arms, across his shoulders until cupping his face.

He opened his eyes, shadowed and haunted and looking as if merely being in her presence tormented and enthralled him. She pulled his face down and gently brushed her lips across his, teasing him. The groan that escaped his throat sounded more animal than human and he crushed his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Reine gasped and parted her lips and his tongue invaded her, taking and not giving anything in return.

Fingers twining in his hair, Reine arched her back and pressed herself against him. Eric responded by forcing his thigh between her legs, spreading them apart and pushing against her.

Frustrated, she ground her hips against him trying to hit that perfect spot but the clothing between them prevented it. His hands encircled her slim waist and he broke the kiss, lifting her up onto the display case. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled and forced her head back. Exposing her neck and throat to his lips and teeth. She whimpered and moaned and reached for his shirt. When her cool fingers brushed the hot skin of his stomach he sucked in air sharply between clenched teeth and bit down hard at the base of her neck.

She cried out at the intense mix of pleasure and pain.

As she slid her fingers up his stomach and across his chest, the sound of muffled voices reached her ears. Her subconscious tickled her and a twisted feeling settled into the pit of her stomach.

Realization dawned on her. Tensing, Reine shoved a booted foot against Eric's stomach and pushed him away from her just as the doors to the museum crashed open. She tumbled backwards, taking the display case down with her in the process.

It hit the ground and shattered.

Glass shards littered her body, slicing through the fabric of her jacket and shorts. The staff she came here for lay just inches away from her. She reached for it and an arrow whistled through the air. Rolling to the side. Reine felt the fletching and shaft whiz across her shoulder, narrowly missing her body.

"Reine!"

Eric had regained his composure as well. Scrambling across the museum floor to grab his discarded sword. She knew not whether he planned to help or hinder. Attraction aside, the man still hated thieves.

Ignoring him, Reine looked towards the entrance and watched as the two guards sprinted towards her.

She'd never stand a chance.

Grabbing the hilt of Amalia, she pulled the spear from it's sheath and spun it around, releasing it to it's full five foot length. Scrambling into a standing position, Reine took off towards the large towering windows and the freedom beyond them. Hefting the spear up to shoulder height, she hurled it through the air as hard as she could.

The sharp tip broke through the glass and continued out into the yard. A spider web of cracks formed around the roughly foot sized hole.

Running full out, Reine tensed her legs and leapt towards the window, wrapping her arms around her face.

Her shoulder slammed into the glass first and she heard an ear piercing screech as the rest of the pane shattered all around her. She tumbled out into the cool night air as a hundred glittering pieces of sharp, crystallized sand danced around her.

Plummeting to the ground, Reine used The Iron Shackles to slow her descent. Three feet from the looming and solid earth, she pushed off the air as if it were made of stone. Landing in a crouch, the thief snatched up Amalia and took off towards the towering wall that protected the University. Behind her, she heard someone cry her name and could only assume Eric gave pursuit.

Give them a good show, Eric, then they won't hang you for thinking you’re a traitor.

Using the spear and her boots, Reine vaulted over the tall structure and took off into the dark and deserted streets of Eluriand.

[Reine]

Each street looked the same. Each alley just another dark place for her to hide in. Blinded by her adrenaline and fear, Reine snaked through the city of Eluriand until even she had no idea where she stood. She ran until her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest and her lungs screamed for air. Until her feet ached and the muscles in her legs screamed in protest.*

A pinch formed in her side, making it even harder to breathe And slowly she became more and more aware of a growing pain in her shoulder.*

Finally, when she felt ready to collapse, she stopped. Her chest heaving, arms supporting her against the cool stone wall of some narrow alley. Pulling in much needed oxygen in fits and gasps, Reine looked over at her right shoulder and noticed a chunk of glass protruding from it. With a shaking hand she reached out and touched it.*

Pain exploded down her arm. Her vision blacked and she felt the world shift. Letting go, she leaned back against the sturdiness of the wall and assessed the damage.*

The material of her jacket was plastered to her shoulder and arm, blood dripped off the tips of her fingers. When she moved the torn cotton aside she cringed at the lacerated mess her shoulder had become. Taking a deep breath, Reine bit down on her bottom lip, wrapped her fingers around the jagged shard and ripped it out.*

She screamed.*

Then doubled over and threw up the contents of her stomach.* The thick piece of glass fell from her fingers and hit the cobbled street, breaking even more.

Fresh rivulets of blood washed down her arm. Just watching the constant trickle made her nauseous and light headed. Somehow, she needed to get back to her safe house before anyone spotted her. She silently cursed Eric and her bad luck. If he hadn't been there, she would have made it out with that damn staff and wouldn't be hiding in some alley puking up her dinner.*

"Faelynn!"*

Reine's head whipped to the side. A dark and all too familiar looking shadow eclipsed the mouth of the alley.

She cursed, rather colourfully.*

The man did not know when to give up.*

Pushing away from the wall, she made to run but only managed three steps before the world swam. Darkness invaded her vision from the corner of her eyes and spread inward; she had the sudden sensation of falling. She forced it back and fought to stay conscious. When her vision cleared she found herself staring at the ground, just a foot away from her nose.* A stream of refuse that smelled of things she’d rather not think about flowed passed.

Strong arms held her by the shoulder and waist.*The feeling was almost comforting. Almost.

A curse echoed off the stones. "You're bleeding badly..."*

She tried to push away from Eric, but the man had an iron grip. "I'm fine." She mumbled.*

"We need to work on your definition of fine." He growled and hoisted her up, placing her back on her feet. He kept one hand on her waist, as if worried she'd topple over like a rag doll. The other he absently ran through his messy hair. She saw it leave a trail of blood, tainted black by the moonlight, on his forehead.*

He didn't appear to notice, or care.

Idly she wondered when he'd pull out the sword and hand her over to the Elves. She knew she couldn't outrun him at this point.*

"I know someone that lives near here." That was a plus, she didn't even know where 'here' currently was. "We can hide at his place until this blows over."*

He tried to pull her back towards the mouth of the alley.*

She hesitated.*

Her boots dug into the stone and all one hundred and seventeen pounds of her refused to move. Eric stopped and looked back at the hard expression on her face.*

"Faelynn..." He cupped her face and stared deep into her eyes, willing her to see something in the depths of his. "Trust me."*

For some stupid reason she actually did.*

She nodded and he kissed her, before quickly pulling away and leading her out into the open streets of Eluriand.*

If her gut had it wrong this time, it would cost her, her head.*

[Reine]

The sound of Eric hammering on a wooden door roused her. She didn't realize she'd even drifted off, but she must have. She was slumped against his shoulder and side, his one arm tightly around her waist, the only thing holding her up, as he smashed the other against the offensive wooden barricade.

It looked familiar to her, but she couldn't seem to focus on it long enough to find out why. Her eyes kept drifting closed, mind wandering into strange blank areas.

Finally, she heard movement on the other side, metal rattling and a rough and familiar voice cursing rather proficiently in a couple languages she knew and several she did not. Then the door swung open.

On the other side stood a dwarf. Hair a ratty mess about his head, stubble on his cheeks and chin and some very annoyed and angry looking brown eyes focused directly on the two of them. He held a lantern up high, trying to cut through the darkness of the night.

"What in the name of--Eric?"

"I don't have time to explain, but I need to use your spare room." He said urgently.

Lifting her head off his shoulder slightly, Reine smiled down at the dwarf.

"Hey, Old Wind Bag..."

His eyes went round as he took in her appearance. The ripped and torn clothes, messy hair and make-up and finally the blood caked arm. The wound no longer bled, but her whole arm looked like some kind of battlefield.

"Faelynn!?" He almost looked shocked when he saw her, then his beardless face hardened and she couldn't read or fathom what he thought. For some reason, it hurt to see that look on his face. A pain just tore through her heart and she wished she wasn’t standing here. The thief would rather tackle those guards back at the museum than the disappointment Breezeborn showed in his eyes.

"Yeah, not my idea, but sorry nonetheless." She mumbled.

Grumbling, Breezeborn reluctantly let them inside. Faelynn realized they were in the back room of his shop, surrounded by shelves and shelves of raw material and metal, and extra pieces of equipment. Eric must have gone to the backdoor to try and attract less attention. She only hoped it worked. The last thing she wanted was to cause any problems for the dwarf. As rough as he was around the edges, he had a good heart.

"Follow me." He barked.

Eric helped support her as they followed the Old Wind Bag out of the storage room, through his dark and deserted shop and up a flight of stairs leading into what she assumed to be the living area. Respectful of his privacy, she'd never been up here before.

At the end of the hall, Breezeborn threw open a door and ushered them in. He left the lantern on the bedside table, a layer of dust covering the wooden structure and speaking volumes about the room’s use. It smelled musty, like it hadn't been opened in a while. But it had a bed and would keep them safe. That's all she needed.

"You can use this room. Be gone in the morning." He spat at them before leaving.

Eric gently eased her onto the bed and she chuckled at the way he treated her, like fragile glass.

"I just need to patch your wound, then you can rest."

She could see the growing panic on his face as he looked about the room, for what she had no idea. Coming to some sort of conclusion she watched through a sleepy haze as he threw off his cloak and removed the greaves, freeing up his hands.

"Okay, okay..."

He grabbed the jagged ends of her jacket where the glass had pierced through and pulled on them. She could feel the crust of dry blood tugging at her skin. When he got too close to the wound, she sucked in air between clenched teeth as a shock of pain raced down her arm.

"Definitely awake now." She hissed.

Eric opened his mouth, but whatever he said got cut off as the door to the room opened and Breezeborn walked in carrying an overloaded tray.

"'Ere!" He thrust it at Eric. Faelynn could see a tea pot, a cup, fresh linens, water and a jar of something she'd rather not know the contents of. "Mara said to make her drink the tea, all of it, and use the rest to bandage her up. She'll be down in the morning to check on her."

And just as quickly as he entered, the dwarf turned and left the two of them.

"I thought..." Eric stared at the closed door, a confused look on his face.

"That he wanted us gone in the morning? Probably still does, but Mara knows all his weak points." Fae said as she unzipped her jacket. She got the one side off fine, but as she tried to move her injured arm and pull the sleeve down over her shoulder, little shocks of pain kept racing across her nerves. "Help me out of this thing, will you? There's no way you can patch me up with it on and it feels gross. The blood is just sticking to me."

In the end, he had to cut the rest of the sleeve off her using the same knife she’d stolen and then angrily threw at him when he’d called her his fiance‘s name. It seemed like forever ago now.

As he washed the blood from her, she drank the concoction that Mara. Fae couldn’t bring herself to call it tea. It tasted disgusting, smelled horrible and looked like swamp water, so she could only assume it must be really freaking good for her. Either that or Mara was angry her sleep had been disturbed and wanted some revenge.

“That was suicide, what you did back at the museum.” Eric stated as he wiped the last of the blood from her arm.

With the wound clean, she could see the extent of the damage. There were several small lacerations along her arm, she counted a few more on various parts of her body as she’d taken the jacket off, but the big one on her shoulder looked ragged and angry. The cut was deep, perhaps right to the bone. She couldn’t honestly be sure. It would leave a nice scar, yet another to add to the many already covering her. She noticed Eric’s eyes wandering to a few of them. The worst ones being on her back.

“You mean jumping out of the window, or going there in the first place?” She asked, drwing his attention away from the scars that covered her and all their different stories.

“Both.”

He grabbed the jar of stuff from the tray and using a spoon scooped out a generous helping of it. When he placed it on the wound, she grit her teeth and tried her best to keep her face neutral, but she could feel it burning and stinging like a thousand fire ants from Fallien were biting her.

“What if it had been one of the other guards who caught you and not me?”

“I had a couple back-up plans in case something like that happened.” She said off-handedly. The fire ants appeared to be calming down, allowing her to breathe once again.

He snatched up a piece of the cloth and Fae could tell he was angry by his quick and jerky movements. But he still carefully and gently wrapped her shoulder.

“I‘m serious, Faelynn. You could have been killed tonight!”

“I could be killed every time I leave my house. Besides I can’t imagine why you’d care…”

He tightened the knot on her arm and grabbed her good shoulder, forcing her to turn and face him.

“You can’t imagine!? Of course I care! If I didn’t care I wouldn’t have risked my life to come after you, I would have left you in the alleyway to bleed to death or be found and hanged. I wouldn’t have…”

She could feel the tension in his body, it practically radiated off him. “You wouldn’t have what?”

[Reine]

She needed to know.

If he cared about her, if what she’d felt for him in Fallien had been real and if he felt the same, she needed to know it all. All he had to do was tell her, but she could still see him hesitating. Did the memory of his dead fiancé haunt him still? Was Amalia the only woman in his thoughts even now? Could there possibly be no room for her at all?

His fingers tightened on her good shoulder, digging into the flesh and the muscle and she could see a dozen emotions play out across his face and dance in the depths of his startlingly blue eyes. She wished she could decipher them. She wished she had a direct link into his mind so she could understand his thoughts and feelings and know where to go.

Eric raised a scared hand and gently ran it down the side of her face. Following the contours of her brow, her temple and cheek bone and finally to her jaw. His touch so feathery light she felt a shiver course down her spine.

"If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have kissed you back at the museum." He brushed his thumb across her lips. "I wouldn't have kissed you in Fallien."

He looked from her mouth to her eyes, asking her some silent question. As if saying 'was this all right?' And she didn't know.

"But in Fallien you..."

He closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath. "I know, I..." He looked away. "I wasn't ready then. You were the first woman to show an interest in me since Amalia and I found myself torn."

"And now?" She was scared to hear the answer to it. A nervous flutter settled in her stomach. What if he said he wasn't ready again?

What if he was?

Faelynn placed her hand on the side of his face, feeling the beginning of rough stubble forming on his cheeks and prickling her skin. With a gentle push, she turned his head and forced him to look at her.

"Now..." He leaned in closer to her. "Now, I know I'm ready. If...you'll still have me."

She wanted him so much it scared her. Here she got her second chance to finish what started between them in Fallien and suddenly she felt so nervous she didn't know what to do. He'd taken the choice from her last time, when he'd so roughly pinned her to the bed with his own body. And just thinking about it, she felt that nervous tickle turn into something else and travel to that most intimate area between her thighs. Now, he gave her the option to walk away, but she didn't want to.

Not knowing the right words to say, Faelynn leaned forward and kissed him. Just the simple act of pressing her lips to his and she felt all that tension leave his body. Before she even realized what was happening, she found herself lying back on the bed, her fingers buried in the messy tangle of his hair. His body pressed down against her, a comfortable weight touching every inch of her he possibly could at one time.

When she shifted and wrapped her legs around his hips, she felt him, already hard, pressing into the centre of her body where she wanted him the most.

Arching her body, Faelynn ground herself against him. enjoying the feel of his length between rubbing up against her even through the layers of clothing.

Eric broke off the kiss and groaned, burying his face against the base of her neck. He thrust his hips against hers as he scraped his teeth across her collar bone.

"E-Eric! Please..." The words sounded so much like a plea she barely recognized her own voice.

He trailed light kisses up her neck before whispering in her ear. "No, I plan on enjoying this for as long as I can."

He held her hips down with his own, grinding himself against her, torturing her. She wanted to feel him inside her. Frustrated, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, revealing the board expanse of his chest and stomach. Faelynn ran the tips of her fingers across all that muscle, enjoying the dips and curves and following the valleys they created every downward. Grabbing the hem of his pants, she eagerly worked the fastenings open and slid her hand inside, her slim fingers wrapping around the hard length of him.

He sucked in air between clenched teeth. "Fae..."

She explored the full length of him, sliding her fingers along the smooth skin. He groaned and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth as he thrust himself into her hand. Her fingers tightening around him. She matched his rhythm, stroking the length of him.

Growling, he broke off the kiss and reached down. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he extricated her hand from his pants and pinned it above her head.

"Hey!"

Smirking, she struggled rather feebly against him as he pinned her other one above her, his one large hand easily encompassing both her wrists.

"Haha, Eric. Let me go."

The devilish smile that spread across his face made her stomach do another summersault.

"I said I wanted this to last as long as possible."

She bucked beneath him, squirming and trying in vain to free herself. He merely laughed, his bright blue eyes turning a darker shade, like that of the ocean. His breathing growing more ragged with each attempt she made.

With his free hand, he circled her small waist, fingers splayed across the smooth skin of her stomach and sliding up under her thin undershirt. Higher still he explored. Across her ribcage until finally his large hand closed over her left breast.

She moaned and arched her back as he teased her nipple. His fingers flicking across the sensitive peak, causing goose bumps to break out over her skin. But it wasn't enough, she wanted more. Faelynn twisted her hands and wrists in an effort to free them. She could feel her frustration building. All she wanted was to feel his skin under her hands, to kiss him and taste him, Eric pinched her nipple in retaliation.

"P-please let me go..."

He laughed and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head and twisting it around her hands and wrists. Then he looped it around the bed post in a tight knot.

"No." He whispered the word in her ear, his breath tickling the side of her neck and she shivered.

Faelynn pulled and yanked on the bonds, but the shirt didn't so much as give.

"Eric, seriously--" The rest of her sentence was cut off in a sudden cry as Eric bit down on her nipple.

He rolled and teased the other between his thumb and fore finger and she bucked and squirmed beneath the heavy press of his body. When he let them go, she collapsed back to the bed; panting, as she felt the light trail of his lips travel down her stomach. The press of his body eased slightly off hers and she felt his fingers unbuckle her shorts; his warm and abrasive touch running down the sensitive skin of her thighs as he slid the material down her body.

Nudging her legs farther apart, Eric spread her open with his fingers. Before she could even open her mouth to protest his mouth was on her. She cried out at the suddenly intensity of his tongue lapping at her clit. She ground her hips against his face and he only increased the tempo, quickly bringing her to the edge. Faelynn writhed and moaned in ecstasy, feeling every nerve in her body come alive and every muscle become as tight as a bow string. All she wanted was that final release. Her back arched up sharply as she finally felt that string snap, his name torn from her mouth as she came, her whole body shuddering.

He didn't stop. Twice more he made her cum with his tongue until she begged for mercy. With hurried and jerky movements he stripped out of his belt and pants, tossing the weapons and garment aside. Crawling up the length of her body, Eric kissed her. He devoured her whimpers and moans, his tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth in a blatant mimicry of sex as he slid himself all the way inside her.

She whimpered as he filled her, spreading her open slowly as he slid himself in to the hilt and finally sated that ache inside her. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted him to move.

She thrust her hips up hard against him and he gasped, breaking off the kiss. Biting hard on his neck, she ground her hips against his body before pulling back and doing it all over again. After the third time, she finally got what she wanted. He pulled back and forced himself in her fast and hard, and she lost herself in it. Feeling only him and that building and mounting peak.

At some point, she hands became free and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him. Nails scraping his back, digging into to flesh as he fucked her.

She came, her whole body quivering from the intensity, and he rode it out. He pounded into her a few more times and joined her, his body stiffening, his teeth grazing her neck as he climaxed inside of her, her name a whispered plea she barely heard.

Listening to his shallow breathing, Faelynn leaned forward and kissed him lightly. His arms wrapped around her and the world did a quick turn; leaving her sprawled across his torso. Laughing, she nuzzled and breathed in the heady smell of him before closing her eyes, feeling so much more then content.

[Reine]

I went to bed I was thinking about you
And how it felt when I finally found you
It's like a movie playing over in my head
Don't wanna look cause I know how it ends
All the words that I said that I would't say
All the promises I made that I wouldn't break
It's last call, last song, last dance
'Cause I can't get you back, can't get a second chance

And now, I guess
This is as good as it gets

Don't wake me, 'cause I don't wanna leave this dream
Don't wake me, 'cause I never seem to stay asleep enough
When it's you I'm dreaming of, I don't wanna wake up
Don't wake me, we're together just you and me
Don't wake me, 'cause we're happy like we used to be
I know! I've gotta let you go!
But I don't wanna be alone

Skillet - Don't Wake me

Sleep dragged at her mind. Like a heavy blanket it covered her, making it hard to move her body, hard to think; to do anything. With his arms around her shoulder and back and feeling him still inside of her, Fae felt safe and secure and wished this feeling and moment to never end.

All good things seemed destined to end though.

She felt him shift beneath her, kiss the top of her head and breath her in. His chest rising as his hands tightened on her shoulders ever so subtly.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," Fae stiffened, a lance of fear running through her, "but I can't. My time is up..."

She opened her eyes and tried to move, but her body didn't respond. She wanted to hold on to him as tightly as possible so he couldn't leave, but her hands didn't move.

When she tried to speak, no sound came out.

Wait!

That heavy feeling spread and became a darkness. She felt it encompassing her. It wasn’t scary, but it wasn’t entirely comforting either. Eric was comforting, he was everything she wanted right now. Everything she needed.

Please don’t leave me!

Her vision began to fade next. Black formed at the edges and slowly began to spread inward until she could see nothing but his chest and his jaw as it moved up and down as he continued to talk while she found herself unable to say anything.

"I'm glad I was able to give you this; a second chance." He drew in one ragged breath. "I could have loved you."

Then everything went black.

---

Warmth.

She noticed the warmth first. Like a gentle caress it covered her body. Yet the more she became aware, the more she felt it slip away, leached by a cool wind that ruffled her hair and tickled her face. The feeling of the hard ground under her back became the second sensation. She felt the dirt and stones and even a sizable rock digging into her spine.

Shifting, she opened her eyes on the bright Raiaeran sun.

A person stood over her. His body an unmistakable shape she would recognize anywhere, even silhouetted by the sun.

"Eric...?"

The figure leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead, but she barely felt it. Just the faintest of touches.

As he straightened, she felt something heavy and solid in her left hand, outstretched away from her body. She blinked, trying to work her way through her muddled brain and focus her thoughts and her eyes. He looked so insubstantial standing over her. Like nothing more than a shadow. Just as she thought this, Fae watched as he faded away and became nothing more than the hard shadow of a crumbling wall; leaving her to wonder if he'd ever been there at all.

Wrapping her fingers around the object, Fae pulled it towards her and looked down at the leather belt and the two pommels sticking out from it. She didn't need to unsheathe the weapons to know what lay in her hand. His twin daggers, one of which she had once stolen from him in Fallien.

"Couldn't have left me the noise cancelling armour, huh?"

The wind whispered across her and she swore she heard his laughter in it.

She smiled and laughed and hugged the belt to her chest feeling that last dam break.

"I could have loved you too."

Curling into a tight ball, she cried. Hot tears streaming down her dirty and dust covered cheeks, leaving trails of clean, wet skin in their wake. Sobs wracked her body and clutched at the gift he'd given her like it was him, like if she let it go, she'd lose him forever.

But she knew the truth now. She already had.

Spoils: Faelynn receives the twin Prevalida daggers Styxx and Acheron that Lord A received from completing this quest.

[Otto]

Remember the Fallen


Plot: 21/30

Storytelling: 8/10

The story aspect was well-structured, progressed logically, and thus maintained credibility and a very natural flow. Moreover, the build-up was wonderfully drawn out over most of the thread, with a terribly bittersweet conclusion. Here you have a story that has very little impact (or none at all) on other people's PCs or the regions concerned, but you made it feel relevant to the reader.

In all honesty, I'm not entirely certain how to improve this aspect, but I'll give it a shot. What comes most to mind is a certain small amount of disjointedness between Faelynn's lingering feelings in this thread, and allusions to the conclusion of their previous encounter. It sounds like she was left extremely hurt by it, so expanding on why she still feels so driven to hunt him down in Eluriand may have been warranted.

Setting: 6/10

You did a good job of going beyond the physical appearances of places, and captured other critical elements as well - the fury of the storm, the dejected air of post-war Raiaera, and the peaceful desolation of Eluriand. Good work there.

Some places, however, weren't done so well. The museum and university in particular weren't very well established, given how relevant the area was. The same could be said of the alley Faelynn reaches afterwards, though you can get away with that, given its brief part in the story.

Finally, just a point about the ship - most items would already be fixed down, particularly the furniture.

Pacing: 7/10

As mentioned, you maintained a good flow, and seesawed between action and build-up enough to keep things varied and interesting, without causing motion sickness.

There were two points in the story which were quite jarring when it came to pacing: first, the transition from the storm to Beinfrost, and from there to Eluriand. I would suggest bridging these gaps with even just one small paragraph, explaining how the ship drifted listlessly into the harbour, or the graduation in scenery from Beinfrost to Eluriand. As it is, it feels like the story is missing something at these points.



Character: 22/30

Communication: 7/10

Faelynn came off bit flat and forced during her first sequence with Breezeborn, and it wasn't really until the second half of the thread that you got into the swing of her dialogue . The other characters were done quite well, though, and I think you managed to nail Richard's sense of awkwardness in their reunion at the museum (which reflects his butterfingered-grasp of conversation in the tavern in To Catch a Thief). So, while you stumbled a bit out the gate, you managed to turn it around for when it really mattered.

While there were some bits of outstanding dialogue (such as the captain's “…Raiaera will have to do”, post 2 - real good note to end the post on), there were also some subpar instances. In particular, Faelynn's 'twig' joke, I'm afraid to say, fell on its face. If it were a bad joke, all would be well and fine, but it's not clear what exactly is so funny about it in the first place. No need to force dialogue, internal or external, if it detracts more than it provides.

Action: 8/10

As with story, I'm not too sure what I can recommend here without being too subjective. Everything was credible, clear, and for the most part, vividly described. Incredibly vividly, to be frank. Cold showers featured prominently in marking the latter part of this thread, so well done. One thing I will say is that some lingering fatigue probably should have been present in the bedding scene, since Faelynn had apparently needed help to just stand up on their way there. Apart from that, excellent work, here.

Persona: 7/10

To reiterate: it took a little while to develop Faelynn's persona through dialogue, but it came through on the strength later on, aided quite well by action. Richard, on the other hand, was very well portrayed from the get-go, as was Breezeborn. It's just a shame that Mara didn't get a bit more attention, though.

Apart from that, your writing style - voice and perspective - were quite illustrative of Faelynn's inner machinations, but the effectiveness was diminished by some sub-par mechanical elements (see below).



Prose: 20/30

Mechanics: 6/10

The most abundant problem with the thread was, by far, the use of sentence fragments. Sometimes this worked ("Strange time to think about that", post 1), but for most part, it made your writing extremely jarring to read. Examples include: "Once the grandest school on the face of Althanas" (post 4), "The stitches and threads telling the stories of great moments of history for the region of Raiaera" and "Same ones that had been there the last time she’d visited" (post 5), "The dark hair framing that face pulled back in it’s usual tail to stream down her back" (post 6). You can change these by linking them to the previous sentence, or changing the participles (e.g. "They looked to be the same ones that had been there the last time she’d visited").

You also have a habit of starting off a paragraph with passive voice. In this instance, the frequency and predictability comes off a bit grating, as the mix of voice reads a bit strange. On the subject of paragraphs, there are a great many which consist of one sentence. This can be good for emphasis, certainly, but with the frequency with which they are used, they started to lose their edge a couple of posts in.

And, as ever, there are a few typos and such, which should be fixed easily enough with some proofreading. Also, be careful not to mix "it's" and "its", be aware of compound words, don't overuse a word (I noticed this with 'cadence' - good word, but it seemed to pop up to describe every sound), and brush up on the correct use of semicolons.

Otherwise, when your writing worked, it worked well. You have a good voice, but it could just do with some polishing off to let it come through more clearly.

Clarity: 7/10

No major issues with clarity were evident (I'm putting down the fact that Breezeborn and Mara were in Raiaera, when To Catch a Thief puts them in Fallien, due to it being a dream of sorts). The only problems came about due to poor sentence structure and phrasing. Examples: "In fact, he only had a couple inches on her and that said something" (post 1); the fact that it is saying something that he's taller than Faelynn implies that they are both quite tall indeed. Also: "He'd had not worked this hard" (post 6); seems a little fuddled here.

Technique: 7/10

Good use of casual metaphor and simile ("Her clothes felt like a strange second skin as they adhered to her body", post 2 - this one stuck with me, great imagery!). To risk getting a little subjective here, I might urge you to avoid cliché, such as the "the sky was nearly black as night" from post 1. Why not describe it as a 'cast-iron' sky instead? That's dark, too, but also sounds hard and unforgiving.

On a deeper note, I like how the story sort of reflected To Catch a Thief - materialised with the first words that Richard's shade says to Faelynn in Eluriand. There's a fitting recursion to that. Also, the discovery of Anglekos' name on the memorial casts overhangs the subsequent events of the thread, which the poignant ending so fittingly concludes.


Wildcard: 8/10
From the little I've read of Richard Elric Anglekos, I think you did his character justice. Furthermore, I think you did the relationship between him and Faelynn justice. This was one of the more touching stories that I've read on this site, and I want to thank you for writing it.

Total: 71/100

Reine receives 2000 experience and 215 gold. If the daggers cannot be awarded as spoils, then I'm sure a significant discount can be worked out.

[Mordelain]

Experience and gold added.