Third Target: The Dark Apothecary

[Godhand]

Godhand watched hopelessly as the hulk got back to his feet, put a hand on either side of his jaw, and in one fell swoop got his skull back in the proper position. Sure, you could see that some of the roof of it had collapsed and some of the flesh on his scalp sank disgustingly into his head, but apart from that it was like he'd never taken a single one of Godhand's hits. The warrior spit out some of the blood that'd dribbled out of nostrils and into his mouth, ran up to the beast and kicked it in the side of the knee. The flash sunk in disgustingly, yet the creature didn't collapse even though the bone had quite clearly been broken. He grabbed the creature by the arm and pulled back so he'd face him, then ducked and drove his shoulder twice into it's stomach. It bent over, but it still didn't fall. Godhand hesitated but then ran past him, grabbed both of his shoulder and leapt, falling back and driving both knees into it's back. The thing fell back from the mercenary's pull, but it didn't seem as if the blow had affected it. Godhand grit his teeth and scissored his legs around Warson's waist, wrapping an arm around his neck and locking it in with his elbow to complete the rear naked choke.

Godhand stretched his back to it's limit trying to get as much force as he could into the choke, mercilessly stretching the beast's neck. And yet the result was negligible; Warson began to throw his weight from one side to the other until he managed to get his arm out and heft himself back to his feet, Godhand hanging on to his back all the while. The monster's decayed hands reached back, attempting to gain some sort of hold on the mercenary as he held on for dear life. He knew that if it managed to pry him off, it'd be over. It wasn't a clever creature; if it knocked him down it wouldn't be going for any technical locks to incapacitate him or cause pain. No, it would throw him to the ground and then stomp him in the chest until he stopped moving. And he would. His ribs weren't in any state to take that kind of punishment.

But then, just as Warson managed to catch a good grip on Godhand's forearm, something happened. It was like whatever was motivating him had been destroyed; the beast barely managed to support both it's weight and the mercenary's. It's legs got wobbly and he finally fell to his knees, where Godhand gratefully took the opportunity to push him forward and lock in the Camel Clutch. He reclined back as far as he could, his fingers interlocking with each other under Derris' jaw, and popped his hips with what little remained of his strength. Finally, the beast's head came off entirely and Godhand flew backwards holding the skull, not quite knowing what to do with it.

Godhand dropped it and gazed at the monster's motionless body, the moans of the undead and the screams of the guards providing a backdrop for him. He knew what he had to do. Unstrapping the sheath from his belt, he pulled out his blade and place the handle in his mouth. Then, aiming it's mouth downwards, he leapt forward and drove it into the beast's chest like a stake. It's disembodied head uttered a wordless groan, and then it was as if the creature's blood was being sucked into the vortex. The mass began to leave it's body until it's skin was like a grey, leathery cloth hung over a dessicated skeleton.

He had ignored the drow's shout earlier, consumed as he was with eliminating the Necromancer's flag bearer. But now that it was done, he turned back and saw the woman beset on all sides by the ravenous undead and somehow unable to protect herself. He pulled back his sheath from Warson's corpse, hoping it's reserves had been filled, took his Muramasa out of his mouth and sheathed it. And then, staring at the huntress who had wanted to kill him only a few minutes earlier, he drew his weapon and slashed in her direction.

A dull grey wave arched forth from the blade, and as it washed over the zombies they instantly fell into their final rest.

[Mage Hunter]

Drusilia fought the urge to throw up as she fought against the encroaching magicks. As she saw her arms continue to deteriorate and slowly decompose she fought back with a ruthless aggression. Still she seemed to be losing the battle before the mercenary finished off his prey. More zombies, as if there was ever an end to them had begun to scrape and clutch at her flesh. Trying to get at her while she was still alive. Still she fought to maintain control, until mercifully she felt the waves of anti-magic wash over her.

The curse broken she was left on her knees amidst the dead of the battlefield. Her legs unable to support her weight as she finally began to vomit, reacting violently to the mana she had tried to manipulate and store safely. When she was done she wiped the back of her mouth as she saw the dead Derris Warsong, the monstrosity finally dead, and his threat no more. Weakly she rose to hr feet before with a grunt she pulled her sword from the packed earth. Placing it back in her sheath she looked about the battlefield and at herself. The armor had protected her at least somewhat, but her arms were covered in scratches in a few cases, bites.

She would need to get herself cleaned up and soon. The blood loss itself was dizzying as she tiredly wiped the sweat from her brow. Cleaning her sword off on one of the corpses she turned back to the guards before she barked, "Don't just look stupid, burn the corpses before they get up again!"

She shook her head as she felt an inordinate amount of fatigue course through her body. She had exerted herself perhaps too much as she fought to recover from whatever the hell that enchantment had been. It was proof however, that she was out of her league, and that were it not for the Human, she would have been dead. It was yet another annoying fact to add on her list for today.

The huntress slowly turned back to the gunslinger before she looked him over, seeing him in just as bad a condition as her, if only worse because his was more physical. Hers was an extreme allergic reaction to the magicks she had been manipulated, his from being used as a punching bag. Still as she managed a few steps closer to him she spoke, her tone softer than the usual hostility she bore towards human, "Good work."

[Godhand]

Godhand opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything there was suddenly a slow and steady clapping. Clap, clap, clap. The town was completely silent, too awestruck by the pair's defeat of the undead horde to say or do anything but look at the newcomer. And that was when he finally managed to break through the crowd. He had flawless porcelain skin and well kept black hair, his eyes betraying no emotion. He was handsome, Godhand supposed, in that closet paranoid-psychotic sort of way. Nobody blocked his way; they could sense that he wasn't someone to be trifled with and the guards were too spent to do anything to stop him. He finally made his way through the town gates where the majority of people were huddled around and walked forward to greet the pair.

"Well, well, well. I'm very impressed. I never thought anyone would ever manage to defeat Derris Warson. But you forgot about the Warsmith," He laughed in that pompous way only fops can and then held a hand up as if to apologize. "You'll have to excuse me; I understand that was a terribly droll line but I simply never thought I'd get a chance to use that pun again. Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Aegon Warsmith. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Striker."

The mercenary had a hand on his knee, propping himself up the only way he could. He took in a deep breath, tried to speak, but only managed to cough. He shook his head and merely extended his hand as if to shake. Suddenly though he felt a terrible tremor run through him and he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. The apothecary smiled.

"Oh my, it seems the poison has finally kicked in. I must say, I'm surprised it took this long. I put enough dark root in that steak to kill...Well, Warson! Now, if you'll pardon me, I'm afraid I must take your life."

Godhand thought back. Jesus, had it been that horse meat? He hadn't even been able to stomach that shit! He'd given it to...

The mercenary grit his teeth and lowered his eyes, waiting for the apothecary stalked forward like the murderous coward he was, drew his short sword and held it in reverse before driving it down to stab Godhand. Yet he froze when the blade stopped cold as the mercenary caught him by the forearm, squeezing the bone and feeling it splinter apart in his hands. The coward gave a strangled yell as Godhand stood up and jabbed his thumb into his throat. The man stumbled back and looked at the mercenary helplessly, slowly backing away from him. He didn't need to breath, but the sharp stab to the throat still managed to make the blood clot and stagnate and make his neck swell like some sort of disgusting toad. Godhand then drew his sheath once more, smiling at the coward and then throwing it in the air. Aegon turned around quickly to see who he'd tossed it to only to meet with the same sheath being stabbed into his stomach.

Spoils:

Godhand's sheath has devoured the souls of Aegon Warsmith and Derris Warson, the implications of which will be revealed later.

[Mage Hunter]

"Vith tir lu' el, yeunn nesst," Drusilia said as the Scabbard pierced the flesh of his stomach. As Aegon looked her in the face, questioningly, she offered him a predatory smile. She wrenched the scabbard turning it a full ninety degrees as his body shuddered purely from long dead instinct. His mouth opened to ask a question, only to be consumed in a white light that slowly sucked the soul from his body. As his body shriveled and decayed Drusilia held fast to the sheath as she took a morbid pleasure in watching the abomination die.

She jerked the sheath out of the body long after its grisly work had been completed. Having for the first time seen it her finger idly traced along the intricate patterns crafted into the sheath, even as she could sense much residing in it. She could tell that it was in fact a masterfully crafted piece of work, and that it would protect many people for years to come. It was an artifact that hearkened to her soul, and she knew, with this single piece of equipment at her side, she could perhaps kill any mage she ever encountered.

A soft pleasant sigh left her lips as she hefted the weight of the scabbard, her eyes nearer leaving it, even as she sense the human shift and walk towards her, his eyes glued on the femme fatale. A hand stretched forth in the gulf between him, the implication clear. Her eyes looked up into his and for the briefest of moments; she entertained the notion of trying to keep it. However, as much as she wanted to, what she couldn't believe previously, what she refused to believe was that it wasn't one of her fallen brethren. It wasn't her birthright; it was merely something she wished she had. To keep it would be to be no better than what she had accused the human of.

And after all they had been through; she owed him at least a begrudging respect.

She looked down at the sheath one last time before a soft smirk lit up her face and she placed it firmly in the swordsman's own.

Spoils: Drusilia has found that while she cannot safely store spells of a higher level when using her ability to drain magic, she can act as a pseudo magical lightning rod, taking those enchantments onto her. When using her Drain Magic ability, Drusilia may become the target (or victim) or any spells she attempts to manipulate.

[Caden Law]

Quest Judging
Third Target: The Dark Apothecary

A bit short for my tastes, but I have an admitted bias when it comes to the Necrisition/Necrosition. Still, you two have done a pretty decent job with this one. It introduced an element of espionage and paranoia (Mage Hunter) that I hadn't thought about before and Godhand's disposal of Warson was a suitably Burly Brawl of Near-Epic Proportions. The real reason this isn't going to get a Crazy High Score is because there's not much emphasis on the story of it. No worries though.

STORY

Continuity: 3. Very poor here. Your intro posts were lacking and your descriptions of your characters were spartan at best. As mentioned in the notes section, you could've done a lot better.
Setting: 4. Poor again, but you did an acceptably barebones job of portraying the craptastic situation in Raiaera right now.
Pacing: 8. The pace was generally natural, dragging only at the start and stumbling only when Warson's attack kicked off. Godhand in particular knows how to pace a fight scene.

CHARACTER

Dialogue: 6.5, almost ended up being a 7. For the most part, dialogue was natural and flowed well enough. No real problems but nothing standout.
Action: 8. As mentioned above, Godhand knows how to write a fight scene. Probably helped by the fact that I know so much wrestling terminology. From a purely logical standpoint, Godhand had no reason to not use his sword and sheath on Warson...but screw logic because the Rule of Cool applies. Drusilla's actions could use some work, but didn't detract.
Persona: 5. Godhand was Godhand, Drusilla was Drusilla. I could see their characterizations coming five miles out but neither of you did much to flesh them out or explore them. Understandable, but not worthy of a high mark.

WRITING STYLE

Technique: 5. Nothing especially standout, and your intro skills need some work.
Mechanics: 6.5. Clear for the most part, but some of the wording got redundant and there were spelling errors to go around.
Clarity: 8. I could follow pretty much everything but a few bits scattered around here and there.

MISC

Wild Card: 9 for the horsemeat chitchat and the fight scene.

TOTAL: 63/100

EXP/GP

Godhand: 6,595 EXP, 300 GP
Mage Hunter: 1,395 EXP, 300 GP

Rewards

Godhand: The soul of Aegon Warsmith. Derris Warson had no soul to capture, but Godhand may claim whatever magic animated him during his next character update.
Mage Hunter: Magical Lightning Rod ability.

Intro's a bit sparse; I think I expected more after what hype I'd heard of Godhand. Admittedly, the GORO HEADCHOP was a nice way to say “Hello!” to a prospective reader, but it wasn't stylish enough. Bit heavy on the ; use for my tastes, but no biggy. Too many uses of the word 'neutralized' as well. Likewise, both Godhand and Mage Hunter's intros were a little too undetailed for me to get much of a feel of the characters. I know of Godhand from talking to the player, I know of Mage Hunter because I was always trying to figure out ways for Caden to kill her if necessary, but if I were just some Schmoe Reader this would all be downright alien to me. Continuity's gonna take a big hit if you don't fix that up as the posts go by.

Posts are a bit redundant, but Godhand did a better job explaining his motives on the second go round. You kind of get a sense that this actually is taxing even for Mr. GARhand Boston Crab. It would help if the two of you had set down an exact place for all of this, as opposed to Generic City That Has No Name And Which May Or May Not Actually Be A City At All. Drusilla's mage kill was also...just...ow. “Immediately the arrow was pulled as she smirked letting an arrow loose,” should be “She pulled the arrow back with a smirk, then let loose,” or something along those lines. That whole post should've been reworked into your intro sequence. It could've been a standalone vignette, followed by a cut to Godhand doing his Bruce Lee imitation followed by “War. War never changes.”

The Godhand-Starslayer contrast was the first thing that actually made me like this thread. Could've been followed up with Godhand waking up in his wagon naked with a few elven refugee whores, but I digress. Quality of posts is crazy inconsistent, more so on Mage Hunter's part: One second she's making a Stylish Kill For Great Just As Planned, the next she's being purple prose seduct-o-elf. Whut ensues.

Godhand's order for meat just saved this fucking thread. D:

Drusilla's at least got the arrogance, racism and sheltered feel of the Drow down pretty well. Godhand's response amuses me. I'll be surprised if they don't end up knocking boots by the end of this thread. And also mildly disappointed.

[Skip Commentary here; nothing about the Enemy Arrival seemed worth mention]

Godhand v. Warson was equal parts amusing and disappointing. I remember Warson basically being a primal, unrestrained force of nature. It makes sense that he'd evolve over time, but not that he'd be so...polite as he was with Godhand. The Shoryuken finish saved the fight from being lame though. Oh hay, fight's not over yet. (Drusilla's bit wasn't too bad either; she handles paranoia pretty well.) That's more like it. My only qualm is the lack of Godhand getting brutalized by all the weapons Warson has stuck in his body, though I'm willing to take it at face value that Warson's evolution may have included the loss of those.

Mage Hunter's Mantra makes me think of the Sith from Star Wars. Which conjures the mental image of Magical Nullifying Night Elf Darth Sidious Druid Militant. With boobs. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a sign that I need therapy...

Admittedly, I'm somewhat disappointed to see Aegon drop that easily. Or to be that much of a foppish dandyboy. But it makes sense, and the build-up to it was fairly logical.

Ending is abrupt. So I'll just assume Godhand took her back to the inn and they had raunchy sex on top of a bed made of dead elven children. Everybody wins!

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added!