The Stepless Thief(Closed)

[Erikar]

The three remaining gang members and their leader had all joined the fray. There was a lull in the battle, a tense reassessment of the situation by all its participants. Erikar knew that this band of outlaws was not to be underestimated. 'Even a mighty tiger has sense enough to fear a pack of angry lions.' But he was not sure of how the criminals perceived him. He hoped they lacked the caution to give the traveler the same evaluation, attributing his defeat of their companion to luck. If so, their playing field would be slightly closer to being level. But not by much, as the hunter was tiring from his uses of magic. The silence was a frayed rope, finally snapping as Ja'al spoke.

"You again!" Ja'al exclaimed with venom in his voice. The doorway was his sanctuary while he scanned the street.. His eyes drifted to the corpse of his comrade, and the fires of rage filled his eyes. His rapier rasped like a death rattle as the outlaw drew it from its scabbard. "You'll stay quiet this time, cully. Kill'em boys!"

The bandits and their sovereign advanced menacingly. The group circled the hunter, steeling themselves. He knew what their strategy what entail. They did not plan on allowing him to defend himself. The party would attempt to attack as one, to swarm and overwhelm their aggressor. Erikar knew that there was only one tactic when surrounded; Escape through the path of least resistance.

He had little time to decide, eyes fixed upon the advancing crew. His gaze settled upon one of the smaller delinquents, the lookout Ja'al had posted when they entered 'The Urchin.' He hesitated for a split-second, smiling at what he saw behind the lackey, calculating the edges of his reach. Satisfied, he acted. A strong pull brought the humming dagger, forgotten by the larger criminal, spinning straight towards the lookout's back. Simultaneously, he pivoted and used the last of his energy to augment his step with a slight push and drive his shoulder into the lookout, attempting to make a tactical retreat.

[Lye]

The men circled like dogs around the wounded prey they sought to make their evening meal. Each grimaced with overconfidence in their own ability. Blades made flashy shows in their hands, spinning, rotating and thirsting for blood. As one would image a pack of animals to operate, they were all keen onto on another. Flashes of eye movement to one another and expressions of sport were exchanged in silence as they debated their plan of attack. Caged prey always put up the best fight.

The man whom possessed features akin to a snake in both movement and scrawny stature advanced in a flurry. Their communication was on point, each of the others springing into action in unison. The adrenaline of battle peaked for a moment to let time crawl to a snail's pace. The hum of the flying dagger became a low waver, their shouts slowed to a rolling bellow, and the dust expelled from Erikar's feet in an unnatural ring. Time waits for no man, and the chaos came to fruition.

"Kill him!" Ja'al shouted, his speed advancing to the fray.

Clouse had eyes grow wide as he found himself pincered by just one man. His body spun in the air and his chest seared with pain barring him from emitting any form of shout. The dagger made a clean incision straight through the lookout and barely missing the speeding body ramming the gurgling corpse in progress. Topher swung his axe to meet nothing but air and to the opposite effect, was gifted with his own dagger lodged clean in his massive shoulder. The hilt of which grotesquely sputtered and clattered against the bone, dropping the oaf to his knees in sudden agony. Oswald, with his inability to faint the trifecta blow, watched his momentous short sword careen into the meat of Topher's neck. The blade slid deep and the expression of shock painted them both. It was quicker to leave the big oaf then the accidental attacker as the color flushed from his skin at the same rate the red spilled to the streets.

The body Erikar pushed past crashed into the cobblestone head first. The hollow crack of caving skull was paramount to the utter fatality of the move. Clouse had transitioned from the world of the living with but a blink of the eye and a faint gurgle of his final breath. Oswald watched and listened as Bausto's death echoed Clouse's departure from the living. A look of betrayal stained itself in Oswald's mind as the last thing Bausto's face could offer before pressing into the spreading pool of crimson about his feet. Shock turned to fear, fear grew into determination, and determination blossomed into rage. Furious eyes locked onto Erikar's wingless flight to witness a blur of green speed into sight.

"Damn you, Cully!" Ja'al shouted at Erikar's tail, near matching his aerial speed. "I'll cut you down myself!"

At his back, Ja'al lunged to taint the redhead's flesh with its poisoned tip. A smug grin of confidence kissed the thug's expression knowing that a dodge in mid air was his only exit, and a miracle would be the only salvation to a slow end.

[Erikar]

Ja'al screamed "KILL HIM!"

Erikar executed the maneuver perfectly. The blade sung as it cleaved flesh and bone, changing pitch upon exit, then once more when it struck another unintended target. The sentry couldn't resist as Erikar's augmented tackle sent him tumbling. His skull split on the cobbles, leaving Erikar's retreat open. The traveler used his momentum to try and leap over the body for a quick escape. The sound of a meaty thwack reached his ear shortly before the bandit leader threatened him.

"Damn you, Cully!" Ja'al shouted from close behind. "I'll cut you down myself!"

Erikar's instincts screamed at him, years of conflict and experience signalling imminent retaliation. The innkeeper's words came to mind, warning of unnatural speed and a poisoned blade. The hunter knew that to fail now would mean an agonizing death in the gutters of Scara Brae. He would be lost to history, an unnamed casualty in an unseen war. Energy born of desperation flooded his body, pavement to the road of salvation. Erikar twisted in mid-air to see Ja'al's deadly stinger bridging the gap between them. A frantic burst of power, aligning the traveler and the sword's magnetic fields, made it impossible for the point to touch him. The ringleader only pushed his adversary further away as he lunged.

This also caused Ja'al to topple due to body weight difference. Erikar cleared almost fifteen feet before he hit the ground, righting himself quickly. His roll brought his view up to see a bright flash of light, forcing him to blink and close his eyes. The traveler opened his eyes to see Ja'al standing slowly, blinking away the afterimage of the flash.. Ja'al's only remaining lackey stood over their comrade, his sword buried in his friend's neck, probably in shock. Erikar stared at Ja'al menacingly, his hatred boiling his blood. The hunter brought his sword up, his stance wide and experienced. "Come now, Ja'al. You and me. I will end you honorably, not cornered like an animal. I want to savor this. Now, what do you rapier-flourishing fairies say? En garde?" The hunter's taunt ended, a smile splitting his features as he readied himself to meet his foe.

[Lye]

The thrust was strong and true yet the resistance he met was unworldly. This feeling strongly contrasted that of steel sliding into flesh and felt more akin to forcing a blade through cold molasses. Unprepared for this unusual phenomena, Ja'al's body teetered forward and the gliding boots which gave him his speed slipped from under him as if on ice. He tried to brace for impact, and succeeded in doing so with the bracer he wore specifically on his left arm. In a flash of light, Ja'al squelched and his body cascaded across the city street until stopped by a lamp post.

"Boss!" Shouted the only remaining lackey, heaving his blade from the shoulder of the dead. Oswald brimmed with anger, giving full charge to Erikar. His voice grew shrill in its battle cry. His blade held fast and prepared to avenge.

"Stop!" shouted the battered leader. Oswald broke his charge and froze. Ja'al lifted himself to his feet, his face scratched and lip bleeding. He tried to blink away the stained flash from his bracer from his eyes with little success.

"What'd you say, cully?" he spat, quite literally as bloody saliva found itself flung to the road. "Did you just call me a dog?"

"And a fairy," Oswald chimed, still seething from the loss of his brothers at the hands of some stranger.

"Quiet you," Ja'al slid along the earth without a sound to mark his travel. This time, he moved slow and deliberate to demonstrate the lack of need for footwork in their upcoming duel. "I got a question before I run you through: Is all this worth a pop in the head? Yeah, y'may have killed off men that've been loyal t'me over the years, but I can get more."

Oswald soured at the statement, his temperament dwindling at the news.

"What's yer game, cully? Y'risk it all for what - Payback?"

Ja'al brought his rapier to the ready, his bracer held ready to block anything he could not parry. His visions still waned in the night, but he would not make this known.

"It doesn't matter. One stick from Rat-tail here and I'm off in a flash. Th' guard will be moppin' your corpse up with th' rest in the morn." He turned to his last colleague. "Oswald, you stay out of this. Best to scamper off before th' cans arrive." Ja'al locked his gaze back upon the nimble aggressor with a smile through bloody teeth. "As you put it cully, engarde!"

Ja'al shot forward, feet unmoving in yet another frontal thrust. He feinted the blow with a flick of the wrist while he simultaneously snapped a crescent flank to Erikar's side. In this moment, he forced his wrist rigid and swept for the legs. Determination, rage, and the clatter of steel en masse in the distance drove his desire to end this in one swift maneuver. All it would take was one laceration and the villain would live to fight another day.

[Erikar]

Their banter ended with the gang leader's cry of "En garde!"

Ja'al sped forward, his feet immobile, going for what seemed to be another thrust. 'Fencers are never that straight-forward, no matter how enraged.' Erikar thought, foreseeing Ja'al's experienced feint to his side, then to his legs. The stance of Erikar's swordsmanship style kept his blade low, easily enabling him to swat the ringleader's blade aside. The traveler saw the same determination and anger that motivated him mirrored in Ja'al's eyes. The sound of marching alongside the ring of steel signaled the coming of the guard, still a little ways off. Both of these factors gave him all the more reason to end this, quickly.

They dueled for a moment, neither blade able to gain purchase against the other. The loud strikes drowned out the sound of their labored breathing. Ja'al began to lose some of the cocky confidence he displayed at the beginning of their bout. The clashing of their swords began to take on a strange rhythm, and the traveler fell into the flow easily. 'Dodge, parry, attack, dodge, parry, parry, dodge...' He thought as their encounter stretched on. Ja'al, frustrated, began to dart around Erikar, his feet motionless. As he searched unsuccessfully for an opening, Erikar was forcibly put on the defensive. He wove his way back towards the dead bodies while they battled. Ja'al was following angrily, his blade swinging away from the hunter after yet another failed thrust, when Erikar delivered a punch to the small man's face. The blow was not overly powerful, only stunning him for a quick second. This was all the time the hunter needed. He gathered the criminal into a bear-hug, squeezing with all his might. Ja'al was unable to react, his small frame not providing him enough strength to break out of the hold.

"You want to know my game, Ja'al? My 'game' is that I don't like you. You and your ilk are the worst this world has to offer, rapists and cutthroats all. Also, somebody worth more than ten of you gave me a good excuse to kill you. I hope that satisfies you, cully." Erikar spat in final retort. Using almost all of his energy in one pull, he ripped his spike out of its place in the brute's body, bringing it whistling towards Ja'al's unprotected back. The gang leader's eyes widened at the sound, then further at the impact. "Dirty... bastard.." Ja'al gurgled with his last breath, as warm blood emerged from his mouth. Erikar dropped him on the ground unceremoniously. The sound of the Watch approaching grew louder by the second. He swiftly retrieved the note from his cloak, reminding himself of the artifacts the Order wished for him to retrieve. He rapidly stripped Ja'al of the Stepless Boots, the Flash Shield, and the Anvil Smashers.

'What the hell? Ja'al fought me wearing THESE?!' Erikar thought with incredulity as he picked up the spidersilk gloves. 'I'm actually frightened to think of how that would've turned out, had he not been wearing them.." He reflected somberly. With the last of his energy, he pulled the Siren's Song into his hand. It hummed dangerously as he gathered the rest of the gear in the crook of his arm. Erikar sprinted down the street, searching for the safety of an alleyway, attempting to elude the guard. The traveler ran until his lungs burned and his muscles ached. When he was sure he was safe, he dropped the gear on the cobblestones in an alleyway. He then sat down beside the pile, breathing deeply.

[Lye]

"Not perfect, but not bad," spoke the shadow adjacent to the exhausted boy. The darkness enveloped the form of a man, but to which only the outline could be barely made out. “Four men killed, all gear retrieved, and not a wound to remember it by, I am impressed. You did manage to let one get away, but I spared you the worry of him talking. The execution was sloppy, but the job is done none the less.”

The night watch’s toll began to ring, filling the air with its loud cry.

“Before you start with the cliché ‘Who are you?’ and ‘What do you want’,” it continued as the flat, ashen grays washed away as though it were a coat of water. Ghastly wisps of platinum, twin emerald eyes locked in sinister presentation, black leather attire akin to a rogue, and trademark crimson scarf all flushed into existence. “My name is Lichensith Ulroke, and I can see you accepted my contract.”

The stranger clicked his bladed heels against the stone trim of the building he leaned against. Four long needles, similar to the ones Erikar had used in his confrontation, were tucked in between his gloved fingers.

“I have a proposal for you,” Lye spoke from his relaxed, yet potentially lethal position. “You see, I lead a group of like minds who enforce a worldly balance. We remove people from the world that others have deemed… no longer necessary to exist. This is of course paid in full either by coin or other spoils, such as the ones you now carry. What you possess is a fraction of what I can offer, and it could be yours to use as you see fit. All that I ask is your unwavering loyalty to me and my order. Aside from that you are a free man. What do you say?”

The sound of shuffling steel, ringing of the alarms, and Erikar’s winded breathing mixed in the cold night air. The assassin stood firm in his resolve as he allowed his words to sink into the adrenaline high youth.

“Although, if you decline, I will take what is listed on that contract and leave you to your current… predicament.”

[Erikar]

Erikar remained silent, considering the platinum-haired man's proposal heavily. The sound of his breathing quieted as he rested, the seconds ticking on. Finally, after momentary deliberation, the traveler looked up into the man's eyes. They were a verdant green, matching his own almost perfectly. His brow knitted as he answered.

"This is only a fraction, you say? If that's the case, you can put those needles away. Gold and riches are a tempting enough offer to make me want to join you, without you waving those pointy things in my face." The gravity of the situation kept him from smiling. "My name is Erikar, and since you haven't killed me yet, I suppose you're being serious." Erikar knelt before the Master Assassin, looking up at him solemnly.

"I give my life to you in servitude. I will be a tool for you to use, a force unleashed at your behest. For better or worse, I will follow you. This, I swear." The oath was a rebirth, a beginning to a new chapter in his life. He promised himself he would make the most of it. He would become powerful and deadly. All would know that he was not a man to be trifled with. This was his second oath, one he swore to himself silently.

Erikar stood and turned, grabbing his collected items off of the cobbles. He submitted them to his new master, the first offering of many. "I hope I have pleased you."

[Lye]

The assassin loosed a chuckle. His fist opened and the needles it contained drifted weightlessly into their sheathes as though possessed. The hand gripped the hilt that belonged to one of twin blades as he knelt to face his new disciple. Although his lower face was covered by the red vlince of his scarf, the assassin wrinkled his face into an eerie smile.

"You can cut the formalities," he breathed. "Your oath will be writ in blood, not words."

They both rose in unison, the boy grabbed his spoils of war, and Lye let his arms fall slack.

"I am not one to be pleased, just one not to be crossed. Now let us not waste more time, we must get free of the night watch. Take my lead and do not stray, for I know your speed."

Lye broke his piercing stare with the boy and made haste. He hugged to the shadows, and weaved a skilled path through the alerted city folk of Scara Brae with boy in tow.

-------

Three weeks by boat and one by foot, they now found themselves in the chilling blizzards of the Skavian wilds - a place called Blackmist Hollows.

"Is this the boy you mentioned in your messages?" asked a man of serpentine eyes, dressed in fine azure silks. His steps clicked away on a stone floor and whispers of each pace echoed against the barren walls of a grand hall. Three figures passed countless chairs along a massive length of deep cherry wood decorated with silver candelabras and wooden dishware.

"Yes," Lye spoke plainly. "This man is Erikar Aodhfionn, and he will be joining our ranks. I trust you have prepared the oath?"

"As requested," the thin correspondent replied with parchment in hand.

Lye stopped at a massive throne poised at the end of the feasting table. He ascended the steps to what seemed to be a construct wrought of human and beast bone. He removed the arctic furs that kept him alive for the journey and draped them over the spinal column which made one of the two arms, then took a seat.

"Give it to the boy," the assassin spoke upon his skeletal chair.

The overseer did just that, and he parchment was handed to Erikar.

"Erikar, your true oath is one of blood. On that parchment is an arcane circle drafted by both a demon and Ai'brone monk."

Lye motioned to the azure assistant to which he produced a ceremonial blade.

"Enough to blot the paper with a hand print will suffice. Once complete, this parchment will serve as your oath of loyalty. Should you ever put this order at risk or attempt to claim freedom from our ranks, this will arrive to you in the same manner as your first contract. You will then be destined for death with no escape. We will find you, kill you, and your soul will never know peace."

The assassin gave him pause to decide, the still of his grand hall eerie in its silence.

"Let us hope your resolve holds true to your words in Scara Brae."

Emerald hues observed like a lecher would a maiden. They anxiously anticipated the completion of the uniform ritual for all initiates to the cause. This moment would either lead to a sacrificial slaughter in refusal, or the christening of a new ally.

[Erikar]

The true test had come. A contract in blood, binding him on a primeval level to this dangerous man and his band of assassins. The prospect, laid starkly in front of him, was now far more daunting than he had first considered. To back out now would be a swift, painful death. To back out later would be an eternity of punishment. His bloody palm print on that paper would effectively end his old life, beginning anew in the shadows. It was time to decide.

"Give me the knife." Erikar intoned flatly.

The youth stared at the Master Assassin as he received the ceremonial blade, then knelt on both knees. He then placed the contract on the ground before him. His gaze never left the man's emerald eyes while he drew the knife across his open palm. The scarlet nectar of life oozed slowly at first, then began to gush as Erikar closed his fist. The traveler unfurled his fingers over the contract, droplets of blood streaming onto the paper. Slowly, he pressed his bleeding hand onto the page.

The platinum-haired man did not display any emotion through this whole process. "I am Lichensith Ulroké. You may call me Master." He stated impassively. "Welcome, Erikar, to The Order of the Crimson Hands."

The following is a list of spoils collected from this thread to be given to The Order of the Crimson Hand's Vault:

“Siren’s Song” - An iron dagger enchanted to vibrate at high speeds. This has been seen to cut through flesh with relative ease. It can be distinguished by its singing which, when by itself sounds like a tuning fork, in combat sounds like a woman singing a single notes of music that change depending on what the blade has made contact with.

“Flash Shield” – An iron bracer worn on the arm and reinforced to block with. When an attack makes contact, the bracer flashes as bright as staring into the sun. Based on reports, the flash will need a 30 second cool-down.

“Anvil Smashers” – A pair of spidersilk gloves originally designed for blacksmiths when handling harder metals. These gloves seem to weigh down the wearer as if he were to be hefting five iron ingots in each hand (~35lbs). Although designed to be used for crafting, these pack quite the punch if the user can muster.

"Stepless Boots" - These boots, called "Stepless Boots", seem to be enchanted with some form of wind magic. The user can move without actually having to take a step. In combat, they dash along the ground as if gliding on ice. These boots are near silent.

All bunnying approved by Lye.

[Tobias Stalt]

Storytelling: 5 Throwing the reader right into the action, Erikar creates a scene and shows the thread's major focus. In this case, it's a direct altercation between Erikar and his hit. Erikar has a sense of no nonsense about his style in that respect; he would benefit from holding back information at the start and feeding the reader more as time progresses. Story is about hooking the reader and keeping them there. While consistently giving new information seems like a good method, eventually it becomes dry. I had a creative writing class in college once where a teacher said this to me: "if you can write a book where it never seems forced or drags on at points, you're doing better than most published authors right now. Realistically, there will always be filler in any writing that you do. The trick is to keep it pertinent, and to use it effectively to connect everything together." So while not everything seems meaningful or interesting, you should always have some purpose in everything you pen (regardless of how short or long.) Additionally, he picked up the spoils rather quickly and far too easily to be believable. Flesh out your writing more and learn to slow down.

Pacing: 6 As mentioned previously, Erikar seemed to rush through and do too much all at once. The read suffered because he did not invest as much detail and effort as he could have into everything from beginning to end. Jumping from the start of the thread immediately into the altercation with Ja'al made little sense, especially since Ja'al ended up being his prime target. It was far too blatant to pass for coincidence.

Setting: 6 This point was slightly stronger for Erikar: he had a firm grasp of where his character was and what was going on around him. That everything bled together did make it less powerful than it could have been, but he showed a talent for staying true to his surroundings. Everything from Erikar flying through glass to passing out and waking up in someone's home. (Though there could have been a better utilized way of connecting the fall with where he woke up.)

Communication: 7 Erikar did not struggle with communication between npcs, himself or Lye. There were places he could have improved by alluding to things rather than directly stating them (show, don't tell), but overall it was well used.

Action: 5 Much weaker than it could have been, Erikar's action was stale in the places that lacked fighting. The character seemed to be monotonous when not in the throes of combat, and the author was struggling to move him from one place to the next when it didn't involve a heart pounding jump or a quick knife thrust. The transitions during the fight were also choppy in places. "They dueled for a moment..." The fight built up, but in a way it also did not. The reader is given the promise of excitement, and the fight just... happens. Granted, the eloquence of combative prose is among the most difficult to master; I firmly believe there is a strong building block upon which Erikar can build. This thread alone shows the willingness and interest, as with the pace and Storytelling, all Erikar needs to do is spend the time.

Persona: 6 A reader can see what Erikar is thinking and where his conflicts and reservations are, but they are one dimensional and not fully developed. Though he is a well thought out character, he suffers from the haste of the thread and is not allowed to fully show his strongest attributes. As well, you built up the thread and it almost seemed anticlimactic at the end. You fulfilled your contract and got successfully blooded in to the organization, but what we're Erikar's motives for wanting to join? What gripped him and made him think, "huh, this is something I want to do?" I can see the desire of the author to get the initiation out of the way, but the character himself being initiated was pretty lackluster.

Technique: 5 The strong use of metaphors and descriptors is evident, but they are not woven well with other techniques for full effect. Also, because the story was forced forward so quickly, some of them lost their intended impact altogether. At that point, some of the speech seemed forced or out of place. Also, try to mix it up more. He did this. He did that. He went here. He went there. Several of your paragraphs start with the format "He (did something)." This heavily detracts from the read, and shows a weakness in variation.

Mechanics: 7 For the most part, Erikar had a strong structure and his sentences were well formed. The sentences could have been more effectual in some places and less forced in others, but they had no real clerical or mechanical issues.

Clarity: 5 Again, rushing blurred lines in clarity. There were clear pauses and situation shifts through punctuation and progression, but because of how quickly it all occurred, the depth and focus of the story were weakened. Essentially, the story made its point, but did so in a substantially weaker way than it could have. Erik could have capitalized by using more imagery, telling the reader more, getting us deeper into the character's head- there were so many tactics he could have used to add meat to the bones.

Wildcard: 8 Out of fairness, I was extremely critical to Erikar's writing. I wanted to give him an idea of what things he could work on and places where he was lacking. Because the story was his first on the site and because it was an initiation, I'm throwing a ten his way to counterbalance my venomous scores.

Final Score: 60/100

Erikar receives:
1700 EXP!
228 Gold!

Lye has requested his Gold and Exp be given to Erikar.

Congratulations!