The Outlaw Torn [Shinsou vs Redford]

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Drenched in blood and halfway through contemplating his next move, Shinsou listened as the anchored John Cromwell explained his philosophy on the true meaning of strength. The words the giant spoke could have been an excerpt from any generic adventurer’s guide, the type of statement that dripped with a thick naivety only a novice could have mustered. The whole rambling disappointed the Telgradian greatly. He had expected so much more from the man, a person renown for his strength.

Shaking his head wistfully, Osiris brushed a sleeve across his nose to clear the blood and clenched his fist. The dark matter chain tightened around a crouching John’s tree-trunk ankles on command and, without toppling him, managed to further root him in place.

“How many people have you beaten here, may I ask?” Shinsou queried, out of reach of the giant by a good few arm’s lengths, “You claim strength isn’t a numbers game? You forget your considerable reputation was built here, forged in the fires of victory. If you hadn’t beat those warriors, your name would have been gouged out of the Citadel’s records like a tumor and would now only be an obscure footnote in Althanan history. You were stronger than them. You play the numbers game every time you step into the arena, and every time you get out of bed. The weak die, John Cromwell; only the strong get to be remembered.”

The cold air cut across his bloodstained clothes as Shinsou began walking, unchallenged, to the temple’s edge.

“A moment ago I was beginning to think you’d have a chance to win this bout, that you’d even damaged my pride, but now I am satisfied this was an error of judgment. How can you expect to defeat me with such a small-time mentality? The very idea I could lose to you makes me feel sick.”

Scanning the periphery of the large stone platform below, Shinsou eyed for an ideal landing spot. His keen vision picked up a perfect place and with panther-like reflexes the Telgradian pounced onto the floating sanctuary, the cool wind flushing the pain from his fractured eye. Once on his feet, he kept his gaze fixed above sanctuary at the replica of the temple of Ea, which was populated only by a firmly planted John. The temple seemed to be constructed from ancient stone, a brittle material, and Shinsou estimated that the depth between John on the staircase and the bottomless sky amounted only to a dozen or so feet. The giant was still firmly locked in clutch by the magic, a spell which obeyed the Telgradian’s every whim. It sounded crazy, but Osiris had executed more absurd plans before. This time, the laws of physics would do the hard work.

Another smile crossed his bloodstained, swollen face. Shinsou was so sure of himself.

“Give my regards to the other defeated philosophers.”

As the wind beat down about Shinsou’s matted chestnut hair, the Telgradian pulled his hand down and commanded the dark matter chain to plunge. Dust erupted into the air as the force of the pull, assisted by John’s weight, metallic roots weakening the stone below and gravity, conspired to crack the masonry underfoot and force the orbiting temple's grounds to give way.

[redford]

The boy's words stung John's mind as he spoke, and the half-giant called to mind unbidden thoughts. He called to mind not the great men he had defeated in the citadel, not the great battles he had led charges in. He remembered but one fateful hour with crystal clarity. Every drop of blood, every man, woman, and child; all of their faces perfectly as they contorted in agony. Agony from his hands.

Shinsou's chains were weak compared to the manacles in his brain that held him, bound by his past actions.

No, no, John thought, grinding the thought from his mind as Shinsou walked away. It was not the action that made a man strong. The nature of his actions were the determinant of his strength, he thought as his opponent leaped down onto the platform from their first exchange, landing gracefully despite his broken face.

I will not be a man who is strong for only himself. He had been that man for one night.

And he never forgot the eighty-five lives that ended then.

"Give my regards to the other philosophers," Shinsou called, and as the stone underneath him cracked further, John realized what was happening. He would be cast into the infinity below if he didn't do something, and fast.

He sank, and there was but one course of action he could take. His head disappeared as he plunged both hands into the earth below the thick floor stones, pulling armor from his legs to his arms and into the dirt, flowing upward between the cracks in the stone, anchoring him back to the ground above him. The armor pulled from his legs and feet though, and the chains squeezed, trying to pull him down through the perilously thin layer of earth between him and the sky. He pulled against it mightily, and felt the chains dig into exposed flesh, tearing his pants first, then his skin as they slowly raked downwards, a hundred links of chain tearing at his flesh. He groaned, trying to focus on pulling upwards. He felt a bicep being to tear itself as the chains pulled.

He heard the snap from his leg before he felt the break, but when the pain came he yelled anyways as the chains fell from his feet, through the remaining soil, and into the air below.

A ragged breath later, John tried to pull up, sweat soaking his brow as he pulled his armor from his right hand, using his left to pull himself upwards and slowly out of the bottomless hole. As he stood, legs slowly bleeding from his wounds, he braced himself for more pain, this time self inflicted. Armor flowed downwards to his broken shin, and he grunted, squinting and clenching his fist as he grew a pair of spikes into his leg, through the bone, and out the other side, covering the entire calf in thick metal that braced him.

When he opened his eyes, he spoke, taking a slow step forward, His armor moving to cover his chest. He looked for a moment for his missing hammer, but it was nowhere to be found. Likely fallen through the hole, leaving him with but one weapon.

"Victory is not strength, Shinsou, your words betray you. What do you know of the kinds of strength, hm? What do you know of the strength of a father who protects his children? What do you know of a woman who sells her body to feed her son? They have strength you cannot conceive, friend, because you call victory by a false name."

He strode forward, adrenaline dulling his pain as he stepped off the platform. He landed heavily, cracking the stone beneath him and grunting in pain as his makeshift splint held, but stressed his punctured and broken bone. He righted himself, standing a little taller as he spoke again, armor flowing from his tattered legs to his chest, a tendril leading to his arms to cover his fists as well. He tried to cover his wounds with the metal, but he still bled.

"And I have the strength to protect and destroy. So come, Shinsou. Prove your strength in victory, or learn that they are not the same."

He settled into a crouch, waiting on a move from the sorcerer.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

For a handful of heartbeats, Shinsou doubted himself.

Cromwell rose from the shrivelled depths of defeat, battered and torn but, most importantly, alive. This person, this colossus, had suffered quite terrible injuries to his legs thanks to the dark matter chain and had somehow used his armor to splint the wounds, returning to the mossy, sun-stroked platform on which the Telgradian now stood. As Shinsou felt his control over his dark matter chain wane and finally dissipate, the black energy breaking apart owing to the short half-life his magic suffered, Osiris gazed at the hulking form of the giant and finally understood why John Cromwell was spoken about in hushed tones.

He just takes it and takes it. What extraordinary resilience.

“You take a rather dogmatic view of strength,” The words slipped through Shinsou’s cracked lips as the Telgradian eyed his bulky opponent over the crest of his swollen eye, “To understand such a concept fully, one must have contrast. What good is the strength to protect if you don’t have the strength to survive?"

A moment's pause followed. "...After all, power comes in response to a need and needs vary. Me and the mother in your little anecdote are separated only by circumstance; the need to survive is the same. It is how we obtain and use that strength that is different. Her power is used and exhausted to ensure that her child has a life. My power will be used to ensure that millions of mothers never have to worry about feeding their children ever again."

John was crouched, listening. The man had patience in abundance, something Shinsou respected. "To get to that position, I have to be stronger than the tyrant who starves, who corrupts and who kills, or else how do I change the world? That, John Cromwell, is the difference between us – whilst your physical strength does you credit, your vision is only a microcosm of the bigger picture. I am here to change the world.”

He exhaled his frustration in a short, sharp breath. The Telgradian supposed that he was now chained to fate as Cromwell once again settled into a stoic crouch. He would now have to deliver to John a fatal blow directly. Clearing his mind of doubt and replacing it with focus on the singular purpose of defeating the metal monstrosity, Shinsou once again weaved his hands to create a dark matter cocoon. The incredible man that was his opponent had a limitation now; his wounds would surely impede the giant’s ability to move. It was time to make good use of John’s situation before the goliath ravaged any more of Osiris’s comparatively fragile body.

Smouldering scents of oil and electricity warred in his nostrils as cozened indigo and murky black shadows shuddered beneath Shinsou’s palms to create an orb. Though a maelstrom of thunderous crackling resonated through his ears, Shinsou’s mind settled into calm. At the fulcrum of his thoughts, the dark matter orb woven about his hands stabilized and took perfect shape with a snap.

“Let’s end this, John. It’s proven entertaining, but I’m quite tired.”

With a large heave, Shinsou Vaan Osiris blasted the magical orb straight at John’s position. Forks of sullied dark lightning took life among the shadows cast by the temples floating all around as the head-sized projectile tore through the cold air. The hues of the beige limestone below mingled with the spellblade’s searing dark matter, a riot of churning color that cracked the stone beneath. The orb exploded somewhere near the hulking giant, sending splintered shards of ancient mossy masonry fizzing through the air. Somehow the fountain made it through unscathed, dumping its water over the lips of its edges as the resulting shockwave pounded over the floating island.

Smoke and flame rose, obscuring John Cromwell’s massive form. One final thought rested in the Telgradian’s mind.

What an intriguing man…

[redford]

There was a pause between the end of the wizard's statement and the beginning of his magic that left John wondering what he could have been had he retained his noble status. Could he have been a man like Shinsou? Could he, if his life had not changed, been the one to end the evil he saw in the world? He shook his head of the thought. No, he had spent years in the pit of what could have been, spent his days in drunken stupor, wishing he could change the past. No, he thought, the past had stolen enough years of his life.

Yet somehow it always invaded his mind anyways.

He steeled his mind. There would be no salvation from Shinsou's magic to be found in his past; and as the Telgradian formed an orb of that same dark energy as everything else he'd done, John stepped forward, realizing that the battle was drawing to its conclusion.

He realized a second too late what Shinsou's magic was designed for.

His eyes widened, and he did the only thing he could think of in that moment.

He drew what armor he could to his left hand, forming a plate at the front of his fist, and stepped forward, planting a foot and punching the orb of magic hurled at him with all his strength.

The explosion blinded and deafened him for a half-second, driving his knee into the stone beneath him. The pain faded into numbness in his arm, and he opened his eyes, lifting himself slowly, clutching a pair of broken ribs. His breath hitched in surprise as he realized one of his fractured ribs had punctured a lung. He could feel the fluid beginning to accumulate. The half-giant looked down from Shinsou, gazing at his arm, realizing that it was blown into a mangled hunk of red flesh, ending halfway through his forearm. He registered mild surprise that he was in shock, which dumped adrenaline into his system, staving off his pain for a moment. The smoke before him cleared, and he imagined yet another look of surprise from his opponent.

He smirked. Neither of them would be letting the battle draw out any longer, but he wanted one more word at the boy who pretended himself the savior of the world. Armor seeped down from his shoulder, drawn from his left leg, and coated his arm in a thick layer of the magical alloy, stopping the bleeding, at least for the moment. He coughed, his one remaining hand still clutching his left side. His gaze found Shinsou.

"You will be the savior of the world, Osiris? You would banish all evil from Althanas?" He stepped forward, coughing. "That microcosm is full of lives."

The armor at the stump of his left arm sharpened into a point as he took another step, breaking into a full sprint.

And until you make good on your vows, the weak will need my strength.

Adrenaline pushed his threshold, and John collided with Shinsou at a dead sprint, sinking his stump of an arm into the wizard's midsection, wrapping his other arm around him, tackling them both over the edge of the platform, and into oblivion. For a moment they fell, a tangle of limbs and blood, spinning away from the floating islands.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The world tumbled and swayed violently before Shinsou’s eyes. There wasn’t time to think, react or even speak as the giant Cromwell crashed into him and cannoned them both off of the frontier of the floating sanctuary; the tangle of battered bodies plummeting into the infinite void below. There could now only be one outcome.

There was a rush of air, then absolute darkness. A few minutes passed before Shinsou Vaan Osiris’s golden eyes opened, peeling the oblivion of death away to reveal the frigid, cold greys of the ceiling of the Citadel’s medical wing. His limbs felt heavy and cumbersome, and as he rolled over, a monk hung over him for what seemed like an eternity.

“Welcome back. Please, do not move too much. We are still healing your wounds.”

The voice was muffled, as if spoken underwater. It was always the same with the Citadel after a fight. The Telgradian hated this part of the process the most, where the Citadel’s unique magic messed with the brain and forced it to struggle to make sense of anything. He’d always look down upon himself, stunned to see there were no wounds. Checking himself twice, thrice, and once again after, it would take a few hazy minutes before Shinsou realised he was completely clean of any cuts or blood because of the Ai’Bron.

"This is most unusual," The monk said, a concerned expression suddenly plastered across his face as his outstretched palms hovered inches from Shinsou’s body. "Something is preventing me from healing you fully.”

Osiris’s face contorted with confusion. “But I’m fine? My wounds are healed. No aches or pains, nothing.”

"Your physical wounds, yes," the priest continued, in a substantially hushed tone. "But I’m referring to the laceration in your soul. I can’t heal it." Shinsou turned his head entirely, staring the monk square in the eyes. Osiris’s mouth tightened into a straight, white line.

“What? What laceration? What are you talking about?” He muttered, his heart pounding. The monk shook his head and sighed. “Your soul has a tear in it, one that is leaking dark magic. This magic bleed is clotting and forming an adema that is preventing my healing powers from sealing it. It’s an old wound, one you have carried for a long time by the looks of it, so it isn’t affecting your physical health for now, but that’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry.”

"A problem the Ai’Bron can’t handle, huh?" Shinsou responded, rising to his feet. "Interesting. Well, if it won’t kill me…"

The Telgradian straightened his neck, drawing back his head before brushing down his white coat. The monk hung precariously over him, a very deep expression of worry spread over his visage. “It won’t yet. That said, there’s no telling what might come of leaving it unattended. That’s if anyone can attend to it.”

"Not today’s problem." The Telgradian continued as they exited the room together and continued down a sloping, torch-lit hallway. "I’m more concerned with finding John Cromwell. I’d like to speak to him."

The monk sighed. “He already left. Please excuse me.” He nodded, giving up on trying to convince his patient, before waddling off to other duties. Shinsou walked a few paces around the corner, diving into a vaulted archway which ensured he was out of sight, before swallowing an enormous quantity of air. His knees, already weakened from the healing process, wobbled under him.

A tear in my soul? One that is actively preserving itself?

Silence once again descended over the one of many labyrinthine Citadel corridors as Shinsou pondered the monk’s words and the day’s events. The Citadel, the proving ground of Althanas, had revealed much to him. John Cromwell, the idealistic man he had faced, had given the Telgradian cause for further thought. The warriors had left the arena with their own moralities and philosophies preserved, but it was the way Cromwell fought that intrigued him.

What had started as a training session had left Osris with the machinations of destiny to contend with.

[Philomel]

Thread Title: The Outlaw Torn
Judgment Type: Full Rubric
Participants: Shinou Vaan Osiris and Redford.

Plot:
Shinsou Vaan Osiris: 24/30
Redford: 23/30


Shinsou: As far as opening the piece, you did this fantastically, with a mesmerising entrance to the arena and a great description of it. Continuing well from this you used the arena in later posts, allowing it to merge to your character’s needs within the plot itself (post 5, “lip of one of the orbiting temple staircases was a three second sprint”). The fact that the Brotherhood had selected Redford as an opponent for Shinsou added a sense of plot depth to it also that was intriguing. Pacing was more or less well kept, though there was a small trick missed with rising it nearing the climax of the battle. Also you had little pause before the fight, which might have been good after such a lengthy opening post as yours. This can be made clearer with shorter sentences and shorter paragraphs, and I would encourage you to use this in future to improve.

Redford: You had your character react well to the fact he had received a challenge and would answer it, had to almost on a purpose of honour. You carried the plot well, using a good amount of actions and reactions to take hits and give them, even going to the extent of dropping a hammer, and thus losing a portion of defence. Pacing was kept more or less to a good continuum, and you emphasised the point that Redford is more of a close-combat fighter well. This saying, however, you could have done more with describing the setting and letting it guide your actions a little more. In future allow your character to adapt a little more to the setting and the pacing and this will strengthen your piece.


Character:
Shinsou Vaan Osiris: 22/30
Redford: 22/30


Shinou: Overall you had a brilliant use of out spoken and internal words/thought, a genuine conversation that carried the story well with it. Right from the outset you had the direct thoughts of your character written and these help to identify persona. You used emotions well, rising with the anger and allowing it to shape your character’s words and reactions. Actions were a little difficult to understand at times, but were reasoned well. The strongest thing you had as far as character goes was your words used at the end. What to concentrate on, however, for further improvement is sharpening up some actions to make them edgier and more proactive, but mostly this was extremely well done.

Redford: To start with commentary, you had a good basis for your communication, both interally and externally. The simple introduction of, “I am John,” in post 2 exemplifies your character, not in the way that means he is simple-minded, but rather that he is straight to the point and simply just there to fight. The way he goes into condenscened philosophies at the end is intriguing, and he reacts well to Shinsou’s words. One area where you could improve here is being clearer in your actions, and keeping your post sizes more equal. This makes for a more visually pleasing piece, but does not detract at least from you overall power of writing.

Prose:
Shinsou Vaan Osiris: 22/30
Redford: 22/30


Shinsou: As usual, your use of technique was impressive. There is not much complaint to say in terms of clarity, for everything was sharp and obvious of what was going to happen – excepting for a couple of moments, for the reader who has not read your profile, what some terms mean (e.g. “Stygian’s influence” in post 7). There was little to no mechanical fault in here, apart from the odd neating that could be done – but that is mostly down to personal pereference. Really this was a splendid thread, that though still can be stronger, is definitely a great and favourite read.

Redford: Your technique only gets stronger over the threads you write, as witnessed by this judge. Some phrases are particularly powerful, such as post 14 with, “Adrenaline pushed his threshold” and other simpler ones are short sentences that help to point out the simplicity of the situation and action – “he smirked,” post 14. In future, though there could be more development with things such as metaphor and imagery. A decent theasaurus will give you assist. Aside from this clarity was not much of an issue for you, and you wrote well a powerful story that was without no obvious mechanical fault.

Wildcard:
All: 7/10


Wildcard: Overall for both of you this was a fast-paced, excellent fight. All the interesting points – Redford being rooted to the ground, the loss of Shinsou’s sword etc – simply added to its magnificence. The ending was beautiful – one of the most profound things I have ever read, with the expected demise of Redford at the chain pulling him down, then the tumbling of them both. I will honestly say that I thought it was an incredible fight, and whether it was planned beforehand or just a post by post reaction, I was impressed by both of you writing together so well.

[Philomel]

(sorry for the two posts but this is the only way the system would allow me to post them up)

Final Score:
Shinsou Vaan Osiris: 75/100
Redford: 74/100

SHINSOU WINS!!!


Shinsou Vaan Osiris receives:

• 2400EXP!
• 120 GP!

Redford receives:

• 600 EXP!
• 60 GP!

This was such a close thread, and I am so glad to see the arena found use that was originally the play for a match between my character and Shinsou’s. It was really powerful and an honour to read.

“A battle lost or won is easily described, understood, and appreciated, but the moral growth of a great nation requires reflection, as well as observation, to appreciate it.”
Frederick Douglass

[Philomel]

This thread will also be nominated for JC.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All rewards added pending the outcome of the JC nomination!