Rosebud

[Christina Bredith]

Christina was mildly surprised that her uncle didn’t check up on her once or urge her to hurry up during the hours that she spent going through the house and putting her grief to rest. She was very glad that he didn’t. This was time that needed to be spent alone, and if Henry were to rush her along, she wouldn’t be able to come to grips with the loss she’d experienced. For all she knew, this was the last time she’d ever see this house. It may have been the last time she’d ever see Laricia, too. Christina’s life was going through a drastic change, and it would not be easy to acclimatize to.

Her journey led her throughout the entire house, which was quite massive. Every room was at least glanced upon one more time. Her old room had been left mostly as it was, but it was converted into another guest bedroom, and thus it felt somewhat cold and unfamiliar to her. Her parents’ study and library was just as it had always been left, stacked from floor to ceiling and wall to wall with an impossible number of books and maps. A large table sat in the middle of the circular room, and some of her father’s works were still sprawled out on it. Christina found it strange to think that nothing in this room would be touched every again. All those books, all that knowledge, would go to waste.

There was only one place left that Christina knew she needed to search: the large, sprawling, dusty attic. There was an entrance to it from the library, reached from one of the catwalks that lined the upper walls of the room on top of even the bookshelves. Christina pulled open the hatch, causing a step ladder to slide down with it, and climbed up into the darkness. It was cold and smelled musty, and she coughed frequently as a result of the dust saturating the air. Despite all that, she delighted in being up here, where her family’s memories were stored away when there was no room for them elsewhere. Christina lost track of time as she went through chest after chest of photographs and journals and diaries.

One of the albums caught her eye in particular, and she spent a great deal of time flipping through it. It was as sappy and sentimental a book as anyone would ever come across, devoted entirely to her and Jeremy, years ago when they were still an item. The book was filled with journal entries she had written, and pictures of the pair of them and their friends. With each page that she flipped through, more and more memories surfaced like bubbles rising to the top of a pond. They were happy memories, but bittersweet in light of what had recently happened. Before long Christina found herself crying; her tears stained the crisp pages of the album, and she pressed it against her and hugged it desperately. “Why did you have to leave?” she begged through misty eyes. “We could have been so happy…” Resentment for Jeremy’s parents began to rise to the surface along with the memories. Christina shut her eyes tightly and slipped the book inside her frock coat, to carry with her as a reminder.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she came to a chest that was somewhat unlike the rest. It was large and ancient, and above all, it was padlocked. None of the other chests up here had been locked, because there had been no reason for them to be. Why would this one be any different? Christina had never thought her parents kept any valuables up here. Overwhelmed by curiosity, the woman reached out and grabbed the old, sturdy lock in her hand. To her surprise, she heard a click, and the lock opened easily as she tugged on it. Must have been really old, she thought to herself, figuring the lock mechanism had just malfunctioned after all these years. Slowly, Christina removed the lock and lifted the lid of the chest open. Its hinges screamed at having to move for the first time in decades, but they obeyed, and before long the woman could see what secret this chest was keeping.

It was a long sword, made of steel. At an initial glance, she could tell that it was well-wrought. The hilt was wrapped in soft, sturdy fabric, and the crossguard was decorated with small gems. The hilt looked as though something had once been decorating it as well, but whatever it was had broken off. More than this, there was something markedly unusual about this sword: as Christina lifted it out of the darkness, she could see that both sides of the blade contained strange, flat gemstone plates of various colours. There were five on one side of the sword’s flat, and five on the other side. Each was a different colour than the last, and they seemed to be there simply for aesthetics. Christina soon realized that was not the case.

Moments after she took the blade’s hilt into her hand, one of the gem plates began to glow faintly. This was a silver gem, and it was located near the tip of the sword. Most unusual, however, was what happened to the gem as she looked at it: a hot, orange light appeared in the center of the gem, and began to worm its way around, carving the shape of some kind of rune into it before dying away again. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before, and yet Christina found she could understand the rune’s meaning perfectly. “Scream,” she said aloud, as if reading the incomprehensible language. Despite the fact that Christina could understand the rune, she had no idea what it meant. She tried reading it aloud a couple more times, but that didn’t do anything special. She even tried actually screaming aloud – that spooked the horses waiting outside, but otherwise did nothing. Perhaps the gem was just there for decoration after all.

The question she had to ask herself now was whether she wanted the sword at all. Would she really continue fighting? Her parents were right – it was a difficult life, and the things she had seen were things she never wanted to see again. And yet, what else did she have? She had been training day in and day out for years. And everyone… everyone she loved… was gone. The decision was not easy to make, but without fully knowing why, Christina pulled the sword out of the chest along with its leather scabbard decorated with a rose, and joined the two items together. She strapped the scabbard around her waist, stood up, and headed back towards the ladder to exit the attic. Christina just knew that leaving the sword behind would be a mistake. It wasn’t something she could explain; something told her that if she took only one thing from that house, that sword should be it. And so, with her new weapon in tow, she climbed down to the main floor and prepared to leave her old house for good.

[Christina Bredith]

As Christina stepped out of the house and moved down the great steps, she could see that her Uncle Henry was once again outside the carriage waiting for her. He didn’t appear to be annoyed, although she could tell that it was already late afternoon and thus she must have been inside for many hours. Once again, that patience was very much appreciated. Even though she was just steps away from taking the biggest leap forward in her life, she felt as though she had appropriately dealt with her past and was ready to lay it to rest. With a couple of reminders in tow, Christina knew she could deal with her personal ghosts and forge a new life for herself.

Henry’s expression was one of surprise as he watched her descend the steps. He seemed to be looking at something particular on her person, although she couldn’t tell exactly what. His look was met with one of suspicion from Christina, who looked down at herself and then back at him as if questioning what it was that he was looking at. No doubt she looked like a new woman: there was no more dried blood on her clothes or grime in her hair, and she didn’t seem as tired or dreary as she had when she entered the house. It couldn’t have been that much of an improvement, though. “Is there something on my face?”

The man snapped back to attention and answered, seeming a bit flustered. “You just look so much like your mother when she was your age,” Henry explained with a smile. Christina blushed a little and continued her path down the main steps toward the carriage. One of the footmen stepped forward to open the door for both of them again. Henry ushered Christina in first, and then he stepped in afterwards. The carriage was small and cozy, but lavishly decorated with plush velvet seats and large windows. It was a definite tribute to her uncle’s wealth.

As soon as they were both inside, the second footman took his place beside the driver of the carriage, who snapped his whip and commanded the horses to begin their canter. Slowly but surely, Christina watched her house pass by through the side windows, and then shifted her view through the rear window while it became smaller and smaller. As the minutes passed, the house was eventually nothing more than a speck on the horizon, and then it was gone completely. Only then did Christina turn around and sit facing forward in her seat. She still had a slightly stunned expression on her face, like she could hardly believe what she was doing. Her life was turning upside-down and backwards and it was all happening so quickly. Yes, Christina Bredith was getting cold feet.

Her uncle seemed to pick up on this, and he patted her knee gently to get her attention. “I realize how difficult this must be,” he said calmly, “but you must remember that there’s nothing left for you back there.” The man nodded to emphasize the point, and Christina followed along. She knew he was right, of course. That house was too big to manage on her own, and she wouldn’t be able to find any work with Laricia overrun by orcs. Moving away, at least temporarily, would be her only bet. Even so, that didn’t make the prospect any easier to swallow. Even more daunting was the fact that she hardly knew her uncle. He visited on holidays, if the mood struck him, but otherwise he was always ‘too busy’ to stop by. She figured it was a bit strange for him to do so now, but she wasn’t complaining.

“How did you find out about… about my parents so quickly?” she inquired, stumbling over that mountain of a question as best she could. It was difficult to ask because it was like admitting to herself that her parents really were gone.

Henry looked at her quizzically. “So quickly?” The man quirked a brow. “It’s been two days since the battle ended.” Christina blinked hard at his answer. Two days? No way. It wouldn’t have taken her that long to walk home, even at her snail’s pace. “Perhaps you simply… passed out along the way? It would be perfectly understandable.”

She faced forward and pondered this for a long moment. She certainly didn’t remember passing out at any point along the way. Her mind was pretty active the entire way, even though her body was moving slowly. How could she possibly have fallen asleep? Although she definitely was exhausted. She was exhausted even now, as a matter of fact, now that she thought about it. Christina just couldn’t remember doing it! Even so, unless her uncle was a skilled and cruel liar, he must have been telling the truth about how long ago the battle was. He wouldn’t have any reason to lie, anyway. Something must, then, have happened between the time she left the battle and the time she arrived at her home. Maybe she was just moving way slower than she thought.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Henry suggested after a moment. “You look exhausted despite however long you may have slept. It will be several hours until we reach my estate, so it will be a good chance for you to catch up on lost time.”

Christina had to admit, it sounded like a damned good idea. Even though she was trying to listen attentively to him, and watch the scenery as it rolled by, her eyelids were drooping and her head was slowly nodding forward. Occasionally the sounds of the world would vanish from her perception, only to buzz right back in again and snap her awake. Before long, though, Christina allowed herself to succumb to the Siren’s call of sleep, for she was unable to disobey it any longer.

[Christina Bredith]

If the Bredith house was considered large, then the one belonging to Henry was a palace. A three story brick house situated on multiple acres of acutely attended gardens, Christina had been in awe of it from the very moment she set eyes on it. A mere third of his staff, which she could often see tending the grounds from the glorious five and ten foot windows at the front of the house, would have been more than capable of servicing the entire Bredith estate and then some. Whatever Henry was paying to keep such a workforce, it was worth it: Christina had never seen such a glorious garden. Roses, tulips, lilies and all manner of other flowers assaulted her senses, both sight and smell, whenever she stepped out the front door.

It had been one full day since Christina’s arrival at the manor, during which she took as much time as she could to rest. The first night was spent in a fitful but lengthy sleep in the luxurious four-poster bed assigned to her. During her waking hours, Christina was treated like royalty by her uncle’s servants. Two ladies-in-waiting had been assigned to her, and they heeded to her beck and call, much to her pleasant surprise. It was, in essence, a hyped up version of the treatment she received at home. Perhaps that was why her uncle ordered it.

Christina had also gotten a chance to see her cousin, Bianca, during her time at her uncle’s estate. Privileged with the best tutors money could buy, Bianca was always too busy with her studies to visit the rest of the family, so Christina hardly ever got the chance to be around her. In the day she spent there, however, Bianca was nothing short of cool and unfriendly. When she did slip out of the library, the most she would give Christina was a polite greeting before vanishing off to wherever she was going. Her cousin had never seemed so unkind in the past, but hindsight is not always brutally accurate.

As night settled in after their dinner, the ‘family’ moved into the living room. Expensively decorated, huge velvet curtains hung from the gigantic main window overlooking the courtyard, and a grand piano sat at one end of the room. Bianca was playing a slow, beautiful tune with unparalleled skill and grace; even her poise was that of a perfect lady. Christina was curled up on a plush divan which she had all to herself; her uncle was seated opposite her, in another sofa, reading quietly from an old book. The sword she had found in her attic was sprawled across her lap. Looking through her old diary brought back too much heartache to bear at the moment, so she was resigned to examining the strange blade as her only source of amusement.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Each of the gem plates was exactly the same size, but carved from a different type of gem. Some of them were very peculiar gems, such as the silver one that was still glowing softly at the tip of the sword; Christina had never seen a silver gem before. Only that one had a rune carved into it, though. As well, the plates were stuck in quite tightly, impossible to remove. Whoever had placed them inside the blade had done so with considerable skill: there weren’t even any noticeable seams, so it appeared as though they were a natural part of the blade.

Christina wasn’t the only one examining the weapon. She often had the suspicious feeling that someone was watching her, and occasionally Bianca’s tune would slow down ever so slightly; either Henry or her cousin would then be looking at her and the blade, only to turn immediately back to whatever they were doing as soon as she looked at them. Most likely it was simply their disapproval of her wielding such an unruly weapon inside the house.

At length, Henry placed the cloth bookmark in his book and closed it. He rested the book in his lap and looked across the small distance to Christina. With a soft voice, he asked, “Do you really think you’ll be needing that?”

Christina furrowed her brow and looked up at him, instinctively pulling the blade closer to her. His concern was valid, since he was just a trader and had nothing to do with warriors, but the woman considered that blade to be one of her only real reminders of home. Technically speaking, she probably didn’t need it: all her needs would be taken care of here at her uncle’s estate, until she found out what to do with her life. Even so, that was not the answer Christina wanted to give, and so she gave none.

“Really, Christina,” Henry pleaded. He grabbed his silver-headed walking cane and rose to his feet, approaching her slowly. “You’re not a warrior. You’ll only hurt yourself with that.” Obviously he wasn’t aware of her unexpected actions back in Laricia when the orcs attacked. Christina found it slightly odd that he had heard such news as her parents’ deaths, but he had not heard anything about her – for indeed rumours would have been flying about as a result of seeing a young woman in fancy clothing fighting orcs. She did not press the matter.

“I’m keeping it,” she stated defiantly, gripping the hilt more tightly. It was not time to give away her true abilities with the sword, since she felt there was no real reason to cast such a light on herself. Henry and Bianca would never accept it.

Henry looked taken aback by her defiance, but his attempted suppression of that fact was obvious. With another step forward, he continued to plead. “Now, I’ve asked you nicely. Please give me the sword.” His voice took a darker turn which caused Christina to slink back in her seat. She simply shook her head. This was one area where she would not relent, despite her uncle’s kindness to her. He simply had to understand.

But indeed he did not. “If you will not give it to me,” the man threatened with a dangerous edge in his voice, “then I will take it by force. Bianca!” He turned towards his daughter and tossed the walking cane to her. The piano stopped as Bianca gracefully stood from her seat and caught the object with one hand. She advanced on Christina with almost robotic movements, and with a swift motion, revealed a sword from within the lower part of the cane. Christina’s eyes widened at the sight. Bianca assumed a fencing stance and stood a short distance from her cousin. With her frilled blouse and knee-length dress, she looked just as out of place as Christina had during the battle at Laricia.

“Wh—what are you doing?” she demanded, looking from her uncle to her cousin and back again.

“Taking what is rightfully mine! Bianca, confiscate Rosebite, now!”

Christina barely even had time to consider what he meant when he had called the sword Rosebite. Her mind was spinning too quickly to comprehend even such a simple fact. Instinct took over as Bianca crossed the distance between them in a single leap. The attack was deflected just in time, and from her sitting position, Christina kicked hard at her opponent’s stomach, driving her away. In one fluid motion she was up off the couch, ready to defend herself, but Bianca was not ready to give up. Her attacks continued with renewed vigor, even though the features on her face were cold and unemotional. Each movement was so controlled and efficient that the fighting could hardly be called “beautiful”. Even so, it was obvious that Bianca was more skilled than Christina was. Each strike came progressively closer to being a critical one, and if Christina hadn’t been wearing her mother’s old uniform, she’d probably have been torn to ribbons by now.

With each instant the battle dragged on, Henry became visibly more agitated. He had clearly not been expecting his niece to be so skillful; neither was she supposed to be so strong willed! The advantage was still Bianca’s, however. Christina required every ounce of her instinct and speed just to parry her opponent’s blows; it was impossible to strike back, not that she particularly wanted to. All the while her head continued to spin, questioning why this was happening all of a sudden. Why did they want this sword?

That distracting question nearly cost Christina her life. Bianca thrust her sword underneath her opponent’s parry, and caught her right in her stomach. Well-protected in that area, Christina was not mortally wounded, but the wind left her lungs in a hurry, just as Rosebite left her grip. No finishing blow came; instead, Bianca swooped down to collect the sword in her free hand, and she began to carry it over to her father, whose eyes were wide like those of a hungry dog.

“At last, it’s ours!” he spoke in his grim, victorious voice. “You’ve saved me the trouble of rooting through your house to find it, my dear.” Henry cast a smug glance over at the fallen Christina. His attention was diverted by a strange glow that was emanating from Rosebite’s blade.

“Father—!” Bianca gasped as she held the weapon aloft. All ten of the gems were glowing fiercely, and the rune that had been carved into the silver one burned with an angry, orange light. Suddenly, she screamed and dropped the blade, clutching her wrist as though she had just suffered a terrible burn. Christina could see that Bianca’s hand was indeed red and scarred as though it had been subject to a red-hot iron. But most unusual of all was the fact that Rosebite was sliding across the floor back towards Christina.

“No!” her uncle hissed as he watched the blade move on its own. “It can’t have chosen you!” Christina didn’t know what he meant, but she wasn't about to ask. The woman reached out reluctantly to touch the blade’s hilt. It didn’t burn her the same way it harmed Bianca; in fact, it felt quite cool to the touch. There was no time to ponder this phenomenon, however. “Take it, Bianca! Take it! Kill her if you must!”

“But father—” Bianca protested. For the first time, actual emotion showed on her face: concern. Whether it was for herself or for Christina was uncertain.

“Do it!” The command was definitive. There was no disobeying him. Bianca reluctantly turned and obeyed.

All Christina could do was raise her weapon and prepare to defend herself yet again, even knowing that it was a futile effort. But as she gripped it in both hands, she saw the silver gem glowing once again. It was a warm light this time, unlike the furious glow in response to Bianca. That is when a revelation struck Christina, tardy in its arrival but better late than never. Rosebite… the sword’s name is Rosebite. That’s what the rune means! Christina’s grip tightened and she stared down her opponent with newfound determination. Her ruby lips parted and she let out a powerful cry.

“Scream, Rosebite!”

The orange rune carved into the silver gem’s face began to glow again, its light extending a full foot out from the blade itself. Rosebite did indeed scream; a sharp howl pierced the tense silence that followed Christina’s words, and the still air was torn apart by chaos. A burst of blue energy raced forth from the weapon, tossing aside both couches and catching Henry and Bianca in its wake. They were thrown helplessly against the grand piano, which was also crushed by the blast, as was a good section of the supporting wall behind it. When the energy finally died down, the living room was in ruin, and it looked as though an elephant had just charged head-first into the wall. Christina was in complete awe of what had happened, but she managed to remain calm despite it all. Now was her moment of victory.

“Thanks for your hospitality, Unc. I’ll keep it in mind next time I need a place to stay.” With a smug grin and a side-bob of her head to add insult to injury, Christina headed straight for the exit, with Rosebite in tow.

Now that Christina knew what Rosebite was capable of and how to wield its power, she saw no reason why she couldn’t make it on her own. Radasanth is very nice this time of year, she thought, deciding to travel in that direction. Just as Bianca’s attacks cut her skin, her ties to others were cut as well. She walked away from her uncle’s estate having learned a valuable lesson:

Don’t trust anyone but yourself.

[INDK]

Well, I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed this thread… through ten posts. In some ways it feels like you tried to jam a second adventure into this thread even though it was only built for one. Still, you’ve earned yourself quite a good score. Well done.

Total Score= 75 Great Job! This is quite a high score, especially since you haven’t been on Althanas for a while. If you haven’t been spending the time creative writing, it seems like you really didn’t miss a beat.

Introduction – 9 This introduction impressed me not only in how well you managed to put so much useful information into one interesting post, but also because of how quickly you moved into the action of the thread.

Setting – 8 I really liked the way you juxtaposed the ugly setting with Christina. I also liked some of the anthromorphozation of the setting, like having the sun being sarcastically cheerful.

Strategy – 8 You seemed to have a bit of trouble here describing Christina’s martial prowess. At times, I felt like you gave me the impression she was a competent novice, other times a dilettante from your descriptions. I would be a bit more careful there. That said, I am generally pleased with how you played her. You put her up against tough challenges, but always managed to find believable ways to get her out of trouble.

Dialogue – 7 I liked that you emphasized nonverbal touches here, like having Christina grip a sword more tightly when she was nervous. The dialogue here was generally quite solid, not really spectacular, but solid.

Character – 8 I really like Christina as a concept for a character. It seems that you generally do know how to play her, though the introduction made me imagine you were going to take more of a “secret identity” kind of route with her.

Rising Action – 6 My biggest problem with this thread was it felt like it should have ended much earlier than it did. I thought ending the battle and getting her mother’s uniform would have been enough, but this kind of dragged on. While the battle against Bianca was not bad in and of itself, I don’t really feel it added to this story. I’m scoring you fairly high because right up into the battle, you had me very interested.

Climax – 5 I think this climax was hurt a bit by the fact that it wasn’t really a moment that stood out all that much. Because so much excitement had happened earlier in the thread, you didn’t do enough to make this stand out.

Conclusion – 7 This conclusion was short, but it was pretty solid. My problems in Rising Action not withstanding, I don’t have any real problems here.

Writing Style – 8 You are mostly a good writer. Some of your word choices are a bit inelegant, but your writing is still much better than average.

Wild Card – 9 I’m scoring this high just because I love how unique of a character Christina is. It’s too bad this thread fizzled out in the later parts, it could have been amazing.

Spoils=
Christina Bredith receives 800 EXP and 200 GP

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

EXP and GP added.