Diving Deep - Solo

[FennWenn]

The boy sat in silence and comforted his wolf as the girl feverishly, wearily, told him what she knew. This time, he made sure to pay attention.

Her hands were steady, and flickering warmly as a candle’s flame as she moved onto the next patch of raw wound. “Gran told me stories about a sea beast that used to appear in the loch. Y’know, in ‘the old days’. They got a taste for human flesh, you see, so they drag people under the waves and eat them. She knew ‘em as kelpies,” Loreley explained through gritted teeth. “They pop up after a horse… uh... drowns. That’s what Grannie said. Really sad. Like, a scary fae water-horse dead-thing…”

Kelpie. Fenn took a deep breath, committing the monster’s name to memory. He clenched his hands into fists and glared back at the loch, a few sharp hailstones plinking to the ground seemingly out of nowhere. At least they knew just what manner of beast they were facing now. If they didn't take care of this problem now, who knew how many more the kelpie would take before someone finally put it out of its misery? He tried — really tried — to summon some sort of feeling for the hypothetical people it had and would kill. Instead, his hands clenched tight with a far more vengeful feeling. Before the fight, they had just been wandering aimlessly and musing to themselves. They had just been playing at being heroes. But now? The kelpie’s days had been numbered the moment it had hurt Daugi. The wolf was given a reassuring scratch under the chin, which she responded to with a warbling wuff.

The murderous glint in his eyes must have been obvious, because Loreley immediately understood his intentions after one sidelong glance.

“You’re gonna go after it, ain’t you?”

He stared out toward the shining waters, and gave a slow nod after a moment of thought.

Loreley wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, hands starting to shake. She didn’t seem too thrilled about his reply. Either that, or using her magic was really draining the pep out of her. There were darkening circles under her eyes that he was certain had not been there before. “Alright. I’ll take care of Daugi for you. That monster won’t know what hit it if it comes back for her.” She paused, catching her breath. “Oh. ‘Nother thing. That bridle?”

Fenn tilted his head quizzically.

“That... it's like... it's self-ness. Now go!” she said woozily, pushing him away. “Go do it, if, if you gotta! Run if it gets real spooky. Don’t die.”

With a solemn (if perplexed) bob of his head, Fenn slipped out of his cloak and his satchel, laying them next to his downed mount. He trusted his wolf, if not Loreley, to keep them safe while he was gone. Bestowing a quick kiss to the top of his Daugi’s head, he started back into the marshy reeds. Back towards the loch’s waters, back towards the dreaded kelpie.

[FennWenn]

Slogging through muggy air and a pebbled shore frothy with foam, Fenn’s eyes wandered out across the lake. Even on dry land, he wasn’t breathing easy. Anticipation filled his lungs. A potent mixture of dread and eagerness, fear and perhaps even righteous (a rare word for him) anger.

He tried, as always, not to think too hard about the unpleasant feelings. It was easier to let them be. Maybe, just to let them fuel him forward. After all, there wasn’t anyone to cause collateral damage to right now.

It was just him and the heavy mist, the weary sun, the wash of waves over stone.

Tracking the beast wasn't too hard. Maybe didn't die from the wounds Daugi inflicted, but it sure left behind a lot of blood. For some reason, it had returned to the shore after its tussle, leaving streaks of ugly green sludge on the rocks behind. Likely, Fenn realized with a shiver, it was hoping to show off its injuries to some new sympathetic sucker. He stopped and inspected a viscous spatter of goo. The green-stench made him sneeze; in all honesty, he wasn't actually sure he could call this blood. It looked more like liquified pond scum.

Fenn knelt by a thick spot of the ooze and prodded it with one hand. It froze over slowly and shriveled up on touch of his frost, all crackly and snot-like. Gross. It… did seem to be mostly plant-matter and salt water. Yeah. Not blood by any conventional measure. This was not an earthly creature.

As he stood up again to trail after the gobs of guck, he tried not to think too hard about his distinct lack of a plan in facing this kelpie. He knew, without a glance at the frothy water to his left, that his ears were flattened again his head. Yet, he felt compelled to keep going. The anger hadn’t sputtered out yet, even if it confined itself to the faintest swirl of snowflakes. His magic pulsed out against the boggy weather in defiant snarls of cold. Something in him was crying out for revenge.

What are you doing? Turn back, turn back. You are small and fragile, his self-preservative side mumbled, a soundless voice in the back of his mind. Even Daugi couldn’t stand up to it. You are going to get crushed.

Nothing gets to hurt her and get away with it, replied his inner thief, though not very confidently.

He wondered, as he heard a whinny in the distance, who had the misfortune of losing their horse to the waves. He wondered how upset they had felt about it. He wondered, with a sense of unease, if they’d found the kelpie in its place…

[FennWenn]

It didn’t much matter at this point. Whoever had once known this not-horse was long gone, and it was

just

down the shore.

Hooves clattered against rock, a sound dulled by the mist rolling off the lake. Fenn’s breath caught as he saw it. The kelpie looked as it had before Loreley had first neared it; a heavyset horse, dun and melancholy. This time though, its Glamour was marred by thick tears, and it was breathing heavily. Wounds. Seeping crimson, marking each blow Daugi had ripped into it. As the blood hit the rocks, it faded to brown, and then green. Raw strength hadn’t overcome it before; his meager might couldn’t possibly overcome it. He couldn’t walk in swinging ice chunks and expecting to emerge victorious. Countless citadel defeats had drilled that much into him. No, he needed a plan of some kind.

Fenn… still wasn’t sure what his plan was going to be. He felt compelled forward for some reason; maybe it was just leftover anger fueling his feet forward. Snow puffed in and out of existence around him. Frost spread outward from his every footstep. His magic was active. It was impossible for him to pinpoint why, but something in his blood told him to keep walking.

The kelpie pricked up at the slap of his bare feet against the rough shore, and it lifted its snout to look down at him. Doelike eyes widened as he approached.

Perhaps it knew him — recognized him from the tussle not half an hour earlier. Or perhaps all it saw was another free meal.

Perhaps it couldn’t believe its luck.

“That bridle? That... it's like... it's self-ness.“

He remembered how it had hesitated as Loreley neared. How it had waited, coy, for her to walk right up to it before striking. How it had only attacked after she was near enough to reach for its bridle. Fenn took a deep breath, staring determinedly forward, mulling over its actions. This was a predator. It was used to easy prey, wasn’t it? Used to people who didn’t know the teeth and bone rotting under its false surface. People who would be lured in by its own apparently vulnerability, to be pinned by one unexpected bite and dragged into the dark lake before them. The space between him and those hidden jaws narrowed. Now, if Fenn wanted to, he could reach out to touch the creature. Its breath, cool and lifeless, stank of rotting meat. It nickered shyly. Invitingly.

A shiver of anticipation shot through the boy. He held up one hand, as if to lay it on the creature’s snout.

Light blazed in the kelpie’s eyes. Its lips pulled back. Sharp teeth unfurled; as they did so, the false guise of the horse tore apart like wet paper, revealing the bone and seaweed and grey flesh underneath, tensed for its strike.

Fenn ducked.

[FennWenn]

A pickpocket’s hand is his swiftest asset.

Yellowed fangs snapped a bare inch above Fenn’s head, brushing against his hair. Aside from two words — oh fuck — the boy’s mind was blank. The hand that had previously reached out as if to touch the kelpie, his right hand, his lesser hand, he threw outward. The motion captured the creature’s gaze for a split second. Misdirection. His other closed around the bridle’s loose reins. Slimy leather cords wrapped around his hand, and under his icen touch, froze in a hard knot.

The split second of instinct flashed away.

A stiffness overcame the kelpie as it processed both the miss of its strike and the hand on his bridle. The light in its eyes flickered. Shrieking out in incoherent panic, it whipped its head around, jolting the boy out of his confident stance and nearly off of his feet entirely. Terror rushed back into Fenn, tearing out of him in one useless squeak. Shit! The next phase of his plan wasn’t ready— he hadn’t even thought out what to do after grabbing the reins— it could bite off his face—

A tearing pain shot through his shoulder as the kelpie took off. His hand was still frozen fast to the rein. With no more time to think, Fenn found himself dragged along the jagged shoreline, wincing as sharp rocks cut into his legs and feet.

Suddenly — it all happened so fast — he was knee-deep in murky water. Then chest-deep. Then he was holding his breath as the waves rushed overhead. Saltwater stung his eyes shut. He felt chunks of ice generate spontaneously in the water around him, brushing his body and floating away, his runaway magic rebelling against the sudden pressure in his chest.

Unholy screeching looped on and on. The kelpie thrashed violently through the water; Fenn could feel the movements of its powerful body through his tightly-bound hand and aching arm, the slap of the steering tail. Blinded, his free hand grasped for its weedy mane, yanking it downward to force its head up by way of suggestion. It still had some horseish instinct left — it was steered, if only briefly. Upwards they went.

For the briefest instant, they licked the top of the water. Fenn gasped into the warm air—

And down, down, down they dove into the black depths of the water again, snatching the breath from his lungs. The fae shut his eyes to the filth and muck once more, holding onto what little air was left in him as the kelpie dragged him through the silt. His tongue was soaked with saltwater. Pain shot through his fingers as the beast twisted and swerved, still vocalizing its fury as it tried to shake him off. The base of his pinky was wrenched out of place, searing white-hot under his skin. And yet! Against the rushing of the water, in spite of the slick slime that oozed off the fae beast, Fenn held on. Thick ice continued to build up around his hand. He felt it travel up the bridle, further securing his grip.

His free hand brushed against something uncomfortably metallic — a squarish shape clasped around the leather cording of the bridle. The buckle!

Even weak from the struggle, Fenn’s fingers were deft.

A final earsplitting shriek ghosted the waters as the bridle was torn from its owner. Even from behind closed eyes, Fenn saw the burst of light that followed. Magic-brightness pulsed outward from the kelpie. All of his senses dulled in the wake of it. For a moment, the fae was shocked into a state of perfect, blank numbness.

When he was next able to feel anything, really, he realized that he was no longer underwater; he had been blasted clear into the air. With the loose wings of his shoulders, he hit the ground and crumpled. All air rushed out of his chest along with a sputter of water. The gray sky taunted him from above, clouds whispering on bubbling breezes that sounded louder to him than the splashy aftermath of the explosion, the dappled plop of something else raining down into the water. Fenn took a gasping breath and pushed himself onto his knees. Somewhere in the distance, a weary voice called out his name.

Strands of seaweed and a gooey green mass not unlike a beached jelly-fish floated to shore alongside him. The ooze was flecked with slimy grey muscle tendons and shards of bone. He stared at it a moment, slowly realizing that it was the kelpie’s remains.

Still frozen to his hand was an algae-crusted, limpet-latched bridle.

[FennWenn]

Hacking out the rest of the saltwater that soaked his insides, Fenn pried away the clear crystals cementing the bridle to him. Everything smarted. Everything. His cuts stung, his fingers throbbed, his lungs burned, and his wrenched shoulder twinged as if someone had taken an iron knife to it. But that wasn’t all that unusual to him. As Banri said, danger ran into him in alarming constance.

Of course, something about this turn of turn of events was not typical to him. His eyes and his mind lingered on the mucky remains floating about him.

He supposed that this was the first time he had intentionally and successfully slain another creature. Was he supposed to be proud, or mournful? Mostly, he still felt numb. Distant. If he was a) a real badass, b) capable of speech, and c) in the presence of an audience, he could turn around and say something witty. “Revenge is a dish best served cold. Ice cold.”

But Fenn was not a badass. Instead, he sneezed out some saltwater he didn’t realize he still had in his nose and brushed off both the inky blood leaking out of his scratches and the ice solidifying about his person. Getting soaked was never fun.

Without his permission, the boy’s ears twitched in the direction of the high, hopeful voice still calling out to him. “Fenn? Fenn! You’d better be alive out there!” A plaintive “Wuff?” followed each time Lore bellowed out his name.

With a wheeze, the boy lifted himself back onto his own two feet.

Out of the marshy woods wandered one pale wisp of a girl, and one bedraggled direwolf. Both of them lit up upon spotting him. With a cry of delight, Loreley began sprinting toward him, mussed curls trailing behind her, the wolf following at her heels in much the same manner. Fenn absently noticed that the bags under her eyes had darkened from the no doubt strenuous effort she had put into healing Daugi. Speaking of the wolf, she seemed in much better condition than before. At least she was up on her feet. There was a pronounced hobble to her gait, but the patch of blood and bare bone on her chest was replaced with raw, red skin. Her fur would grow back quickly enough, he knew. She was a hardy beast.

“Wuff!” the wolf greeted him, nearly knocking him over as she nuzzled him, wrinkling her nose at the saltwater and probable kelpie-scent lingering on him. He threw his arms around her neck gratefully.

Loreley laughed. “You’re alive after all!” Her gaze skipped between the bridle in his hand, the water and ice sloughing off his person, and the oozing detritus washing ashore around him. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh Thaynes. You actually did it, didn’t you.”

He nodded.

The girl grinned and let out a breath of relief, leaning against Daugi (trying) to hide her exhaustion. “I was worried we were gonna have to rescue you. That bridle belongs to you now then, don’t it? You think Daugi’d wanna wear it?”

Fenn’s chest quivered with an unheard laughter, and he shook his head. It didn’t seem like a good idea. Daugi would absolutely revolt if he tried to put something so restrictive over her face… and forgetting that, the bridle felt a little dangerous somehow. A little off. Now that it was in his hands, and he wasn't being tossed madly around by a deranged sea monster, there was a noticeable warmth to the bridle. Magic-brightness, to be specific, but not a pleasant radiance of it. It left his skin crawling and tingly all over, much akin to a peeling sunburn. Ew. Maybe he could do research on it later, while he did Banri’s. As Loreley ogled his cuts and bruised fingers with a worried eye, the boy wiped excess slime off of the leather and simply shoved the bridle into his satchel. He’d deal with it later.

“Do you… need me to heal you?” Lore asked him.

After a hesitance, Fenn shook his head again. On some level, he acknowledged that she was more literally a child than he was, and that she had gone through enough today — had helped out more than enough for today just healing Daugi. He’d gone through worse injuries than an achy shoulder. He’d go through worse in the future. He would tough it out just fine for a little bit.

Her grin faltering, Lore glanced at Daugi. Her gaze lingered on the wolf’s limp, and the raw red showing through her coat. “Sorry. I couldn't fix all of her hurts.”

Without thinking, Fenn leaned over and wrapped his arms around her; the motion surprised him more than it seemed to surprise the other two. A genuine hug. Daugi wuffed in approval. Loreley sighed and returned the gesture. Her grip was stronger than his. And yet, the embrace lasted only for a brief few seconds. Fenn drew away from it almost as soon as he began it, but the painful twinge in his shoulder aside, it was about all he felt alright with doing. Daugi was about the only creature who received love from him. He wasn’t exactly practiced in physically displaying friendship to others. Others did that to him.

His new friend shivered briefly from his chill, and flashed one of her bold grins, still strong behind tired eyes. “I guess… we need to head home now. It’s late, and Pa might be worried, and the sheriff’s gotta know what happened with the kelpie and all. Right?”

Fenn gave a thumbs-up.

In reflective silence, the three started their trek back to the village — back into the salty sea of trees.

[FennWenn]

Fenn knew the way back by now — he was very good at figuring out where he stood in the world — but quietly allowed Lore to take the lead in guiding them home. The way back was much more tiring and much longer than their initial journey into the woods. Neither of them rode Daugi this time. Fenn found it better to simply to suck it up and slog through the mud alongside her, periodically brushing off any mud that froze to his feet. Daugi deserved a break.

Over tree roots, under hanging moss, and out through the thrumming field of flowers and insects they went.

By the time they reached a dirt road leading back to town, the sun had begun to set. Dark purples, reds, and oranges swirled in the sky. Wayward clouds drifted over a sparkling of stars. The little fae hesitated at the shore of the tall grass, peering down the road. Carting their way through the middle of the path was a faintly familiar figure. Fenn blinked and squinted at the broad, bearded man before them.

“Papa!”

“Loreley!” the man cried, an oof eeking out of him as Lore dashed right into him for a hug. Face creased with concern, he stopped to consider the circles under her eyes, the gashes on her arm, and the state of her dress and hair. Fenn realized that he probably looked just as bad, if not worse. “I wondered if I’d find you out here, buttercup — should’ve been home by now. You’re looking rough around the edges. What’d you go getting yourself into?”

After pulling out of her hug, the girl bashfully rocked on her heels. “I know you ain’t gonna like it, but we ended up out at, well, the loch. And we got so much to tell you! Fenn! Show him the bridle.”

Shyly, he fished it out of his satchel and held it up in all it’s scummy, crusty glory for Pa to see.

The man's eyes widened from under his bushy eyebrows. “That’s ain’t — that ain’t a kelpie’s bridle — is it?”

With a nervous smile of affirmation, the little fae shoved it back into his bag. He could stand its itchy magic-bright only for a little bit.

Pa’s mouth clamped shut as he processed this. Slowly, he looked to Loreley. She beamed innocently. Whatever previous shenanigans the girl had been up to in her young life, they’d obviously done something to dampen the man’s shock. “Well then. I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t something for the both of ya to be proud of. But next time, let me know when you got it in your fool head to do something reckless and heroic… again. And you!”

Fenn squeaked and stood at attention as Pa’s finger jabbed squarely at him.

“Thanks for looking out for my buttercup. Foolheaded to follow along with her like that, but I can’t look at that bridle and say you don’t have a brave streak on you. Maybe now people will stop vanishing ‘round the loch; at least now that we know that kelpies still can pop up ‘round here. They were a right hazard back in the day. Sherif’s gotta be told about this.” The man sighed. “Come along. You’re having dinner with us tonight, and there ain’t a plea that could convince me otherwise. Both of ya are explaining everything you did today over bread and potato stew. Alright?”

Dinner? Fenn brightened and nodded shamelessly. Looked like he wouldn’t have to steal a meal today. Stolen meals were good, but he was coming to the slow conclusion that meals with friends were usually better. When he had friends to share them with, at least. A resigned rumbling had started up in his stomach again, now that there wasn’t any lingering adrenaline to distract him from his hunger and his wounds. He could use some food and a nice place to nap right about now... Napping. Fuck, he needed that. The fae wandered over to lean against the side of the wagon, finally able to just sit still and catch his breath.

Pa paled and glanced over at the dark canid limping out of the grass after Fenn. The donkey attached to his cart shuffled in place nervously. “Oh. That uh… wolf. That yours?”

“Boof,” Daugi greeted Pa quietly, yawning.

“Yep! Daugi’s sitting with us,” Loreley declared with finality as she coaxed the exhausted direwolf into the back of the cart. The girl leaned over to ruffle the donkey's mane. Somehow, it relaxed. “She’s had a rough day, fighting kelpies and carrying us places.”

The wolf agreed. “Auf.”

“Sure thing, buttercup. She... seems tame enough.”

In a haze, Fenn found Loreley’s magic-bright hands pulling him up into the cart alongside her and his pet. There was a crack of the reigns, the bray of Pa’s donkey, and then movement. The creak of the wagon’s wheels and the slight sway of the cart comforted the boy somehow. He stared up at the sky, the sunset-lit clouds, only distantly aware of the burning ache in his shoulder and hand. Coarse black fur pressed up against him. His wolf was a mountainous and relieving presence; she rumbled with warmth, and with snoring.

“This adventure did not turn out how I expected. Did ya actually think we were gonna turn up anything for real? I wasn’t sure we were gonna,” Loreley whispered over to him.

A shrug was given, then a slight wince from the pain.

“I’m really sorry about your parents though. It’s just all too likely that they… well, you know. The kelpie,” she continued, though there was something foxlike about the shy grin on her face. She twiddled her hands together in thought. “Pa wouldn’t mind an extra hand around the house if you don’t have anywhere else to go. And, honestly, I’d love to have a cute little sibling around. So you’re free to stay with us, at least for a bit!”

Fenn sat up, sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck, blushing grey from eartip to eartip. It was about time he clear some misconceptions up. He tapped the wagon’s planks underneath them. His magic was weak as he too felt, but a fluttering of frost still emanated from his touch. HAVE TO KEEP MOVING. SORRY, he scrawled in the delicate lace. And to his surprise, he really meant the apology. ABOUT THE “PARENTS” THING…

The girl grabbed his hand in her own, effectively shushing him. “Alrighty. Don’t say a word more,” she instructed him, beaming. “I already got it figured out, back in the forest. You don’t got any. You ain’t any Raiaera-elf either. I wondered if ya happened to be one of those solitary faerie folk — but you ain’t so spooky for one of them, are you? Not the abducting-naughty-children kind. So, your secret’s safe with me.”

Fenn rubbed the back of his neck, and glanced out over the cart’s side with a sheepish turn of his ears.

Lore sighed, following his gaze. “I get it if you got some wanderlust beating in ya too. If you gotta leave, you gotta leave. But come visit me again someday, alright? Promise?”

He nodded.

With its two tuckered-out passengers in tow and a slumbering direwolf to boot, the wagon bounced into town. A wind carried the nectar of the local flowers… and the promises of more far-off places and adventures to be had.

~ § ~ § ~ § ~

”Tsk. Pigwidgeon, I knew you attracted trouble, but even I did not expect you to wander willingly into its open maws. When, exactly, did you grow such a spine?”

<I haven’t. Chalk it up to impulse and spite.>

[Breaker]

Thread Title: Diving Deep (Solo Quest)
Judgment Type: Full Rubric
Participants: FennWenn

Current Music: You Don't Just Want to Break Me by Hawksley Workman

First of all Miss Wenn, thank you for choosing to submit your thread for a rubric judgment. I've had the pleasure of reading your writing through the workshop and on my own time before, but this is (I think) the first time I've had the task of sitting down and seriously critiquing a thread of yours, and a solo no less. I really hope that you'll find the judgment beneficial, and that you'll choose this option again in the future. If you have questions about anything you read here, you know how to reach me.

Diving Deep went headlong into pulling at my heartstrings. If I had to choose a genre for it I might call it a fantasy-adventure-mystery, but it had the charm of an adult (due to language) Disney type story, with a theme of friendship that overcomes differences, powerful child (and child sized) characters, and the dutiful direwolf companion. I don't want to end up repeating myself, so I'll save the rest of my commentary for the categories, but let me just say I truly enjoyed this read.

Plot: 23/30

Story- 7/10

I waffled around on what to score this category - a lot. This story contained a well-composed introduction, some nice rising action, and a clear climax and conclusion. It also featured a number of creative takes on classic fantasy storyline elements, such as the call to adventure, the magical dream sequence, and the monster battle (sorry Daugi, you're not really a monster). However, there are some ways in which I felt the use of your plotting tools could have been even stronger.

The first post placed Fenn in a precarious position (or at least, what seemed like one), and that helped to initially hook my attention. However, this ended fairly quickly with him being tagged, at which point the narrative slowed down. If the "danger" had been a bit more compelling, or lasted a bit longer, or been more difficult to escape from, I would have had a bit more opportunity to get connected with the character in peril. You also did a good job of introducing the magic of the world immediately with Loreley's vines and Fenn's ice, but I found that was a fairly meager promise of what was to come.

Just as an example, imagine if the kids had been playing not tag, but a similar game. It could have been named after one of the local fable-monsters. It could have even been called Kelpie, if that wouldn't be too on the nose. In this example, the story would have immediately introduced a broader context of the magical world it takes place in, and also would have, in subtext, promised the reader some good monster action to come.

I also felt that the rising action could have been more compelling. While Fenn and Loreley did face a difficult journey to the loch in slogging through the mud, there weren't exactly a series of challenges for them to attempt to overcome. The travel time was mostly used to provide backstory and build character, which is fine, but a little less likely to keep the reader glued to the page/screen.

Setting- 9/10

Your descriptions of and interactions with the setting were both beautifully composed and distributed. I never felt like you didn't pay enough attention to the setting, but I also never felt like you were over-describing or focusing on it more than necessary. This is a difficult balance for most writers to find, and a massive boon to your overall prose. I really liked the intimacy Fenn had with his surroundings, which lent itself so well to those vivid descriptions. I also loved the incorporation and expansion of Althanas lore in the form of the kelpie. Why isn't this a perfect score? Because you still have room to grow, and because the scope of this thread was very small within the context of the world of Althanas. If you write a continent-crossing adventure with the same level of intricacy and detail, I'll likely give you a ten here.

Pacing- 7/10

The overall flow of events in this story was smooth and easy, and I laughed out loud in several places from your use of wit and language. You did a good job of transitioning in and out of the dream sequence, and of speeding the action up when things would have been boring to drag out. Points off here are mostly due to the underwhelming rising action in the first 5-6 posts, mechanical errors, and a slight lack of ambition. After all, it's much easier to keep the pacing consistent in a story that spans a handful of hours as opposed to one that encompasses days, weeks, or months.

Character: 21/30

Communication- 7/10

There were some small inconsistencies with speech; I think Loreley and Pa (or at least Pa) alternated between saying 'ya' and 'you'. This is a small thing, but it was enough to give me pause on at least one occasion. Other than that, I enjoyed your use of communication. Fenn is clever and necessarily succinct with his words, Loreley was exuberant and filled most of the story with her chatter, and Daugi was entertaining as ever with the different sounds she makes. As with some of the other categories, your path to a higher score here lies through greater ambition. In future threads, I encourage you to work further outside your comfort zone, with a larger variety of characters.

Action- 8/10

For me personally, there are some instances where you could have improved your action by avoiding "telling" the reader with 'was' and 'were' statements. The best example of this, I think, is at the end of post #8. I'll quote a chunk in here.

Both beasts traded blows and bites. They were quick. They were vehement. They were rough equals in size and strength. The wolf, it was clear, was more experienced in this sort of struggle. She aimed for the vitals and gouged at its chest. She bit legs with the intention of hobbling the beast, of wrenching joints out of place. She blocked clumsy blows at her own neck with a snap of her powerful jaws.

This little paragraph starts out telling, almost delivering a list of facts. It then changes to showing, providing an action sequence I can envision in my mind. I think the whole thing would have been stronger and flowed better if you had found ways to show that they were quick and vehement, to show that they were rough equals in size. Preferably without 'was' and 'were'. That said, overall the action was very well written and representative of the characters. You have a gift for bringing your characters to life with little consistencies that I really enjoy.

Persona- 6/10

First of all, I love Loreley's name because it starts with the word Lore, and you are pretty much our loremaster. I am tapping my chin as I wonder whether this was intentional. Anyways, the truth is, Fenn was great, and the supporting cast was also fairly well rounded and consistent. I took points off here because they felt a little convenient. Both Loreley and Pa felt a little like plot pushers, and Loreley had so much handy knowledge that I started to wonder if she was some evil fae in disguise, there to torment Fenn by leading him on ill-advised adventures. When that (or something else interesting) failed to happen, I was a little disappointed. While the supporting cast definitely had their own wants and needs, those wants and needs tended to line up with Fenn's own pretty consistently. The story might have been even more interesting if the only character-driven conflict hadn't come from the kelpie's need to hunt.

Prose: 22/30

Mechanics- 6/10

Considering the amount of effort I know you put into editing, I was surprised by the amount of mechanical errors. I found numerous instances of typos and missing words, and a few tense changes that may have been the result of typos as well. The only one I noticed that I think might require education is the use of reins/reigns. You used "reigns" (which means to rule) at least twice, and "reins" (which is the horse-riding thingie) the rest of the time. If there was any question in your mind as to which one was correct, now you know! The rest of the errors were things that I know you know how to fix, but that can easily be missed. The good news is, you can get better at catching these by practicing. The bad news is, the only way to practice is to read your work back to yourself, preferably out loud. Your work is lovely though, so that shouldn't be too much of a chore. If you have any questions about these errors let me know, I have most of them saved in my rough notes.

Clarity- 8/10

Quite clear and easy to follow overall, but the mechanical errors did bog you down a bit in places, and the lack of ambition left me wondering what would happen if you really pushed yourself.

Technique- 8/10

You have a great grasp of literary technique and employed metaphors and other devices well throughout this story. There weren't any that really jumped out and grabbed me, but they did help to build my overall mental image and kept things interesting. You can improve here by trying new things and being even more creative, and also by getting even deeper into the fundamentals of plot structure, character, and phrasing. I cannot wait to see what happens when your beautiful vocabulary combines with your grasp of technique on more frequent occasion.

Wildcard: 8/10 - I always expect the Fennquisition. And I expect that you will remember me fondly when you're a famous author

Final Score: 74/100

FennWenn's rewards for this thread will be assigned pending its Judge's Choice Nomination!

FennWenn receives the following spoil:

Quest Reward Request: Kelpie’s Bridle.

This sturdy, ancient leather bridle once held together a kelpie, a shape-shifting sea monster with a taste for human flesh and a habit of drowning people to get it. Even after the death of its owner, the bridle still has a bit of magic in it. If placed over the head of another creature or humanoid, it will transform them temporarily into a horse, baleful-polymorph style. The enchantment fades when it is removed.

“And if ya go about putting it on a horse, well, you’ve gone and wasted a mother-kelping enchantment, fool!”

Three uses only; three currently left. Spell applicable to all beings cat-sized and larger. Permission needed before using on PCs or other player’s NPCs.

Congratulations!

[Breaker]

FennWenn receives 2700 EXP and the above listed spoil.

Rewards added!