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Thread: May Vignette

  1. #1
    Viator Mundi

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    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

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    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
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    34
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    Telgradian
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    May Vignette

    For this month's Vignette, we're going to be focusing on the theme of reconciliation.

    Your character has finally reconciled their differences with someone with whom they have been at odds with for a long time. How is the relationship rekindled, and what influences your character to either make or receive the first conciliatory move?

  2. #2
    Althanian

    EXP: 5,050, Level: 3
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    Lilthis's Avatar

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    2,605

    Name
    Lilly Svalesin
    Age
    22
    Race
    Dark Elf
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    Female
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    Alerar

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    Chittering came from the dimly lit lounge as bets were placed and poker chips descended onto the soft felted tables. Elves and men filled the chairs, a few drunk off whiskey or ale. The air was thick, dusty, and ran throughout the wooden structure via giant cut-out openings on the second story. From these openings a race track could be observed, muddled by a deluge of rain from the previous night. Hooves thudded loudly atop the mud-dirt mixture that littered the wide track. Majestic shades of white, brown, and tan raced past eager on-lookers spraying them with fragments of damp earth.

    As the first heat of horses concluded their race a new stampede arose as the booking windows were swarmed with hopeful gamblers. The place reeked of desperation as men and women finalized their choices for the next group of stallions. So great was the stench of their forlorn hope that the dark elf felt a bit of pity towards them. But Lilthis was not here to gamble, she was here to find Faellint.

    A lifetime ago he was entrusted to protect Lilthis without exception. They had become dear friends. They were strangers now. He had taken up gambling... and she was too absorbed in her own desires to notice until the addiction had consumed him entirely. Her guilt had troubled her greatly. Lilly could no longer bear the thought that she had abandoned her oldest friend.

    “Dangerous to be here Lil.”

    She recognized his gruff voice instantly. Turning to face the tall, broad shouldered dark elf she marveled at him for a short second. Faellint sported a neat shaven haircut which went well with the scruff of his unkempt facial hair. A long curved scar decorated his forehead, a souvenir from a bar fight in his youth. He appeared more put together than their last encounter, adorned in steel armor from head to toe with a gilded saber attached to his hip.

    “Faellint... it’s good to see you’re ok. I was told I’d find you here,” she said before teasing her old companion, “I half expected to see you bumming outside!”

    “Very funny,” Faellint replied in his usual monotone fashion. He was always too serious for Lilthis’ liking. “I’ve been worried about you. Not sure how you’ve managed to stay alive this long.”

    Lilly rolled her eyes. She was here to make amends but as she feared her former guard underestimated her resolve. Ultimately it would serve her best to let that sleight pass without comment. The woman composed herself and verbalized her shame, “I am sorry Faellint. I shouldn’t have left so suddenly, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

    A brief pause ensued as the jet skinned maiden reached out her hand to grasp her old acquaintance’s. She continued, “I was selfish. I think I knew of your habit much earlier than I let on. I chose not to speak up. I only cared after it effected me.” Her hand squeezed his a bit tighter as she continued, “I never tried to help you. I just left. I should’ve been honest, I shouldn’t have just left. I used you instead of treating you as the dear friend you had been to me,” her lips quaked and eyes watered as her confession ended. She waited anxiously for Faellint’s response.

    He gave Lilly a long stare. That same long stare that used to annoy her. Eventually he said, “mean’s a lot Lil. Wish I had an orange for you.” At that Lilthis forced a smile. Faellint admired the tiny dimples on her cheeks, framing that wonderful face in the back of his mind. Knowing it may be the last time he’d be lucky enough to appreciate it.

    “Y’know, I think we both messed up, but seeing you here is good,” the grizzled warrior noted. Faellint rubbed his chin in contemplation and then proceeded to issue his own apology, “I couldn’t stop myself. Didn’t realize how unhappy you were until... but on the bright side
    it really seems you’ve matured since last we spoke.”

    It was true. She had learned a lot about herself. How to trust and open up to others, how to be less self absorbed.

    Faellint pierced the drow’s thought process with an abrupt, “should go now Lil, I run security for...

    them.”

    She withdrew her hand from Faellint’s. He didn’t need to clarify who the them was. The same thugs who fractured her life so long ago. Apologetically the hulking dark elf explained, “gamblin’ debts got too high. They gave me a choice. This, or learn what the bottom of the Raiaeran sea looks like.”

    Clarity dawned on the shadowy skinned elf. She’d deserted him, he’d been all alone. Lilthis had practically forced this fate upon him by robbing him of the one thing that kept him afloat. His need to provide for her. She wished she had done more. She wished she’d stuck around a bit longer. If she tried harder would he have avoided this fate? She had given up so quickly.

    No. It was not her fault that he had gone down this path. He made his own decisions and she could not go back to how she once was. Beating herself up over his misfortune wouldn’t help anyone. Still, it hurt like hell to see him now.

    Choking back tears she glanced down at her feet, not wanting to face him. Quivering, she finally focused back onto his bold red eyes... how she always loved those eyes...

    “I’m sorry. Truly sorry. If I could go back. Do it over again,” pausing, the girl turned away from Faellint.

    Lilthis didn’t want to stay there any longer. She had settled the rift between them, there was nothing left for her in this gambler’s den. An apology couldn’t mend the damage that he had done to his own life.

    As the dark elf woman vanished into the crowd Faellint thought back to his mind’s painting of her face. How her eyes shined, those cute dimples, her flowing white hair, how her brow furrowed when she was lost in her own head, and the perfection of her thin smile. For the first time in years he could sleep well tonight, knowing that she was going to be ok. “G’bye Lil,” he uttered as her shadow faded out of view.

    “I hope you find peace Faellint,” she said only to herself.

  3. #3
    Senior Member

    EXP: 8,121, Level: 3
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    Yvonne's Avatar

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    2,109

    Name
    Yvonne Mythrilmantle
    Age
    21
    Race
    Grey Dwarf
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    Female
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    Alerar

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    With respect.

    What the fuck happened tonight? How did it all go to shit?

    Shinsou Vaan Osiris was the last man standing. Well, sitting - the last man sitting. The only one still seated at an oaken, circular table - the rest of the pub’s tables and bar were free of patrons. It was getting on, getting to be really late or early depending on one’s perspective. About three o’clock in the morning - he’d had to wait this long to finally get the peace and quiet he’d originally come here for. Why was that so much to ask, anonymity and a quiet place to drown his thoughts? He’d not been anonymous from the minute he’d stepped foot into The Greyhound, and those fucking reptiles were to blame.

    Nothing went the way I intended. I would have found better company at the High Tap compared to this place tonight, whether the authorities got involved or not. Should have tried my luck there. I knew coming here was a bad idea from the start.

    The last of the kobold stragglers had finally tapped out, either hauled their scaly asses to bed upstairs or slept it off in dark corners, where they’d spent their night getting drunk. The bartender didn’t disturb them, didn’t move them. She cleaned around them - picked up their bottles - wiped their tables down but left them where they lay. She should have kicked them awake, turfed their intoxicated asses out into the street, or better yet, back into the sewer they crawled out of.

    Where are the old men that frequent this joint? Where is that one old fellow where it was an introduction each and every time? He was always convinced I’d never been here before, or the other chap who it didn’t matter what we bantered about, he wouldn’t remember anyway. Tell him anything, get whatever off your chest and come next time it was a clean slate. Must be at home with their families, they had their grand kids.

    The empty mugs and bottles were clinking together as Shinsou set another glass down among the rest. Finding one of the few glass-shaped spaces left on his table was becoming difficult. He’d almost filled every inch of oak, crowded enough empty bottles together to cover the table from length to breadth. That little barmaid Yvonne kept bringing him drinks but she would always leave again before clearing his table. So he’d taken it as a challenge to crowd his table with glasses until no room was left. She’d have to clear it then. All she kept doing was glaring his way and sorting the rest of this dump out though.

    She wasn’t doing her job.

    Is this bar tending upstart taking the piss? Who the fuck does she think she is, giving me that look? Look away you mongrel bitch. Look away. … Yeah, that’s right. Look down, pay more attention to your table cleaning and quit staring at me. I’ll be done when I’m good and ready. Who the fuck are you to judge me? Me? I did nothing wrong and I won’t hear it from some runty lizard-loving sideshow that I did.

    Shinsou’s brittle filter was threadbare. Insobriety was effective at lowering one’s inhibitions and he’d not been sober for hours now. To his credit the man had the constitution of a giant, holding it together well into the morn and concurrently keeping his thoughts to himself. They traded their occasional death stares while he drank his last drink to the last drop and she cleared every table except his. The atmosphere had been thick from the moment he’d arrived, enough to slice in twain with a katana. With only the two of them left in the room there was an expectation the tension would clear, but it did not.

    She doesn’t have the balls to say anything to me, so I’ll bite. I’ve been biting more bullets than I care to this evening. Something needs to be said though. This is getting ridiculous.

    Shinsou got up from his chair with a creak from the floorboards. He made his way toward the bar with a respectable amount of balance, all drinks considered. One stumble was corrected with a thoroughly practiced finesse that indicated years of rigorous training. He set down a steadying fist on the bar, both supporting himself and warning the barmaid shit was about to get real.



    Yvonne had one last patron left to serve.

    She felt tired, run down. It had been a big night and her glove-clock showed a little past three o’clock. It was after her bed time. She’d guided many patrons to guest rooms on the floor above them and now she was growing jealous of their comfort. Gru’Hal and his left and right hand kobolds had been among the first to retire, had needed to better tend to their General’s dismembered hand with needle and thread. She’d stowed many hammered kobolds into a selection of other rooms, sometimes as many as three or four to the one bed. There were only so many beds to go around, especially with Jake, Philomel and Storm having their own rooms each.

    There only be tha kobold crippler left. So tired. I’ve never seen a human knock back so many drinks in one night. He could go toe ta toe, mug for mug with some of Kachuck’s most enduring. Even they would have snuck outside ta relieve themselves a while ago. Where does he store all that booze?

    For once Yvonne wasn’t concerned with debts and tabs which still needed collecting. Storm Veritas had paid in full for most of them, the kobold contingent especially. They were the ones most lacking in coin and least likely to pay, seeing as they weren’t exactly members of civilized society and fancied themselves invaders and pillagers. All she needed to do was clean and lock up for the night, but there was so many dirty glasses she’d have to leave the other half of the workload for tomorrow morning. There was the small matter of her last patron still adding to that other half.

    Surely he must be winding down for tha night. I don’t think I can keep this up much longer. What if I poured him a large jug ta see him through and went ta bed? I wonder whether he would mind. He doesn’t seem interested in chitchat so tha lack of company wouldn’t bother him, but getting cut off might. I will have ta tell him soon, me eyes be falling out of me head.

    Yvonne tended to the outskirts of the room, stepping around sleeping kobolds on the floor and collecting their mostly empty glasses of honey-whiskey. All beds had been taken advantage of and they weren’t hurting anyone, yet. At best they were a trip hazard until the sun rose. She felt she could leave them be. She wiped down tables as she went fastidiously, despite how tired she felt. It wouldn’t be reasonable to do a poor job of her tasks. She’d asked for this job and was yet proving herself dependable and reliable. Her patience had come to its end though. Yvonne glared in Shinsou’s direction, wishing he’d hurry up.

    He didn’t like that. He poured every last drop down his throat, slowly and stubbornly, intent on taking his time. Yvonne sighed and returned to the bar, collecting a dish rag. She might as well carry on with her workload. The more she saw to now the less that would need seeing to tomorrow. One by one she washed and wiped the glasses clean and clear, either hanging them up or stacking them depending on their make.

    A creak of a chair sliding back across floorboards piqued her interest. The kobold crippler was traversing toward the bar, equilibrium somehow still in check. A stumble to the left though the movement was easily corrected. Shinsou had impressed her, the way he still held his drink, thought she believed she’d finally filled him to the very brim. He thumped a fist down upon the bar, mostly to maintain his balance she supposed but it was not lost on her that he expected her attention.



    Shinsou Vaan Osiris held her silver eyes with his intense stare. She wanted to shift her focus to anywhere else but him - there were dishes to clean, counters to wipe down - but she knew if she didn’t hold his gaze he would have all the power. He would have no respect for her if she fidgeted and squirmed. She didn’t look away - instead set down the glass in her hands and let it weep warm water and soap suds.

    “You think I shouldn’t have cut his hand off, don’t you? What would you have done? Let them beat the shit out of us all?” Shinsou questioned flatly. He didn’t fuck around. He got right to point.

    “I guess we’ll never know. If things got hectic in here I’d have hidden or run. Not much I could do about thirty odd kobold warriors,” Yvonne replied honestly. She sensed that any attempt to lie her way out of this would not go well. This man had certainly been lied to before and was quick with consequences. Truth was the only option.

    “No, there wasn’t, yet you’ve been content to judge me ever since I dealt with those reptiles. You should be thanking me. Instead you’ve been judging me,” he stated. Shinsou cleared away the bullshit and pointed to the problem.

    Yvonne wasn’t entirely ready to answer him, broke eye contact in spite of willing herself not to do so. She lidded her silvers and was obviously trying to respond, her lips parted, her mind hastening through her thoughts.

    “Yer right. True enough. I can certainly be judgemental and I have glared daggers at ye all night. Though I don’t believe ye did tha wrong thing necessarily. Perhaps tha right thing a wee bit preemptively be all. Though in tha heat of battle it be difficult ta make quick moral decisions,” she admitted.

    Shinsou raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. A bit of clarity which yielded more questions. He pressed further and asked, “Well, why the hostile looks?”

    “Ta ingratiate meself with the kobolds,” Yvonne answered simply, reconnecting her gaze with his.

    “What kind of Aleran ingratiates themselves with invaders of Ettermire? Are you some kind of traitor?” he criticized, narrowing his eyes. That didn’t make any sense at all and he presumed it to be the first lie from her lips, but the truth was often difficult to believe.

    “Not a particularly loyal one, I admit. It seemed tha decision which would conserve tha most lives. Ye struck a very intimidating figure. I felt confident ye and yer friend Storm could fend off thirty kobolds if they got aggressive. That would have been glorious ta see, but if I intervened it might not have had ta end that way,” she said, smiling for the first time throughout their conversation.

    “Hmph, flattery will get you nowhere,” Shinsou said dismissively. He closed his eyes, the intensity lost. Sleep claimed us all sooner or later. It wouldn’t be long before he passed out.

    Yvonne giggled, continuing their dialogue for him. “We both have our methods. We do what we think be right. There be situations where one or tha other doesn’t work as well as we’d like it to. Ye know if we put our heads together instead of bickering between ourselves, our skills would compliment one other.”

    Shinsou yawned. Fatigue finally, finally catching up with him. He mumbled tiredly, “You’re a cunning little squirt aren’t …”

    That was about as far through his sentence as he could achieve before his snoring began. The human was still upright against the bar, sleep-standing. Yvonne had witnessed this before and it ended badly last time. Her quick wits brought her around the bar in a hurry, propping out her arms to support him as he began to sway and fall sideways. He was a heavy man but she eased him gently down to the floorboards, stronger than she seemed. Looking around, spotting a clean towel she folded it a few times and tucked it under his head like a pillow.

    “Ye sleep on it,” Yvonne whispered quietly before making her way back behind the bar. She gathered her own pillow and bedding from her backpack, unrolling her bedroll out below the counter. That’s where she slept, upon a more comfortable pillow and beneath a blanket, completely and utterly exhausted. What a night it had been.
    Last edited by Yvonne; 05-30-2018 at 10:57 PM.
    So I’m cutting that branch off the cherry tree.
    Singing this will be my victory.
    Then I, I see them coming after me.
    And they’re following me across the sea.
    And now they’re stinging my friends and my family.
    And I, I don’t know why this is happening.
    ~ Thrice, Black Honey.

  4. #4
    Althanian

    EXP: 11,761, Level: 4
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    Level completed: 56%,
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    Paladin_Lorenor's Avatar

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    191

    Name
    Lorenor
    Age
    N/A
    Race
    Undead
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    Male.
    Location
    Corone

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    He turned his head towards the voices of shouting and a loud noise in the mean Radasanth streets, where we set our scene. Lorenor narrowed his eyes calmly and saw the man who'd been making life a living Hell for the local poor folks in the slums. Another day in Radasanth...? Lorenor thought to himself as he looked at the man who was harassing local poor folks. The man was a burly Dwarf with a bad attitude. He was extorting money off the locals, making their lives a bigger misery than it already was. Lorenor knew that the man was doing this for some time. He observed as the fellow punched a worker in the face then stared directly at Lorenor.

    "What are you looking at?" The Dwarf yelled, and started to walk towards him.

    Lorenor remained where he was as the bully approached. "What do you intend to do here?" Lorenor suddenly asked in challenge.

    "Look, if you want trouble I can gladly oblige." Doors were slammed shut as people ran indoors. To their houses and buildings. "I will NOT ask you again. What are you looking at?"

    Lorenor tensed at that point...angry Dwarves were harsh enemies to fight. "I'm looking at YOU." Lorenor drew his claymore and began to summon the light. "Or do you want me to spell that out for you?"

    The Dwarf raised an eyebrow. "You didn't see what I been doing to these poor saps? Fine, I'll just kill you and blame them for it." The Dwarf proceeded to punch Lorenor across the face.

    Lorenor's face turned slightly at the hit. "I'd suggest you try again." Lorenor said calmly. He looked at the Dwarf with a fierce expression in his glowing eyes.

    The Dwarf punched Lorenor over and over. With the best strength he could muster, Lorenor DID feel the pain...but it was not enough to stop what was about to go down.

    Lorenor raised his weapon...he intended to strike the Dwarf down.

    "Wait!" A man shouted from one of the houses. "Don't do it, or there will be a lot of trouble for us."

    Another chimed in. "Yeah...kill him now and we'll get blamed anyway. He works as a crony for the local militia."

    Lorenor hesitated. "...Shit..."

    The Dwarf looked at Lorenor. "I suggest you think clearly before you act."

    Lorenor narrowed his eyes. "...Perhaps. I don't have to kill you but nothing says I can't hurt you."

    The Dwarf frowned. "What are you going on about...?" The Dwarf asked.

    Lorenor sheathed his sword. Then he summoned The Holy Light, grabbing The Dwarf's face. He released a full burst of his smite ability on The Dwarf. The man yelled as energy sizzled off his face. "I can't kill you, but I can make your life a really terrible Hell if you don't stop bothering these folks."

    The Dwarf clutched his smoldering face. "Y-You bastard! You'll pay for this!" The Dwarf growled angrily, but knew he could not defeat Lorenor. Instead, he decided to walk away for the time being. "I'll be back for you HERO. Enjoy your victory today...it will be your last." The Dwarf left.

    One of the men who spoke earlier left their house and walked over towards Lorenor. He kept his distance. "Thanks for helping us but we got a BIG problem now." He said with his lips shaking in terror.

    Lorenor nodded. "I'm sorry that I almost acted without thinking. But i am going to remain here to protect you all."

    "...You would help us?" The man said incredulously. "...Don't you understand what's about to happen, what he's likely going to do to us...?"

    Lorenor nodded. "That's why I'm going to stay and help you all. Someone I know risked a lot to save me from something before. I intend to repay that man someday. That's why I acted just now to save you all."

    "He could bring the whole Radasanth military down our necks in the hour! You'd stay despite that?" The man was stunned at what he was hearing. "...Why...? You don't even know us."

    Lorenor nodded. "Because it is the RIGHT thing to do." He explained. "We better prepare for what is coming."

    (Note: Not really an ENEMY he reconciled with per say, but he reconciled with the poor folk who are about to go through some Sin City style stuff. Either way, there's my entry hope you guys like it! ~Pav)

  5. #5
    Member

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    Morus's Avatar

    GP
    999

    Name
    Morus
    Age
    15
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    The Dreaming was a curious place, abound with mysteries and vague hints at the real world it played in parallel with. Ephemeral haze seemed to bleed from its seams at random intervals, and the first step through was always an unnatural dark. Morus found himself once again traversing through its weave, his body awash with the heaviness of slumber he'd just slipped from. It would wane in time, that physical feeling, to be replaced by the unnatural calm that came with watching a vision unfold before him. Though his senses were still dim, he could faintly smell and taste something familiar in the air – some distant memory he tried in vain to recollect. It was never a good sign to enter The Dreaming confused, lest you become more lost in questions than when you came in.

    Slowly the haze lifted and darkness receded as Morus padded further into the ether. A red glow engulfed the scene, as he stood before what remained of a village in disarray.

    Grim skeletons of buildings loomed to either side of him, blackened by soot and broken by embers. Beneath his feet was sickly brown grass, so warm to the touch that he again felt the discomfort of the physical, if only for a moment. And the familiarity of that smell that seeped into his mouth and rested on his tongue, was smoke and char of wood and flesh. This was the boy's home once, a long time ago, preserved in The Dreaming in its last dying breath. The fires around him seemed cooled a bit, if only by the trickle that ran down his cheeks.

    “It is as you remember?” Rang a voice from nothing, slow and deep and alien. The boy's head pivoted from side to side, his eyes widened in shock. He knew that voice, it came to him whenever he didn't consciously enter a dream. And every morning he'd wake from it, he found himself slick in a cold sweat.

    “Show yourself!” He tried his best to sound commanding, but the words wavered and cracked in his throat – one of his hands clinging to his shirt collar as reassurance. A hum appeared in the air, eerily quiet at first before growing in intensity to a low growl in the ear. Before him, the formless gained form in a swirl of night-black ether twisted into a tall, sallowed wraith of a man. Not five feet from the boy stood a new slender shape, hunched just slightly enough to peer one red eye down at Morus.

    “As always, as you command.” Absent moonlight seemed to play on his pale face, and a wide and toothy smiley shone through. One crimson eye followed the boy with the playfulness of an uncle, the other was hidden behind long strands of greasy black hair.

    The boy felt himself backing away, his heels slipping slightly on the ash-slick grass beneath his feet. The Dreaming, he thought, was a mistake tonight. He hadn't steeled his will enough to come face to face with the spirit he'd met those many years ago.

    “One and one half,” the spirit spoke, inching it's black garbed form closer, “but it feels like an eternity.” There was a warmth to his voice, like the roar of an open hearth or the rustle of a sun-drenched rapid.

    “Have you come to collect?” The boys words were spat behind gritted teeth. He felt his body tremble, a mewling shake calmed only when he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

    “Morus, you are luckier than most. You know how and when you'll meet your end.”

    “At your hand,” the boy yelled back.

    “As you willed. As you agreed.” With a flick of long, thin fingers, the spirit summoned up more visages – not from the ether this time, but from the fires around them. Flames danced and licked to form men in boiled leather with scraggly beards. Twenty or thirty, the numbers kept rising, and all had one thing in common. The held weapons aloft and brandished looks of near ecstasy on their faces – smiles hid behind battle cries and scowls. “As they did.”

    Behind Morus now stood the tallest figure. All over him were bound scraps of steel and iron haphazard in armor. His face was full with scars, and his bare broad shoulders bore many more. The boy twisted in place and threw a punch straight into its stomach, only to be met with a sharp crack and a dull ache in his hand. The figure never moved, nor did the dribbles of spit that flew from its mouth.

    “You killed them all,” Morus choked. “You twisted their bodies till their cries ceased.”

    “On your word.”

    “You'll steal from me my soul when I am older.”

    “On. Your. Word.”

    The boy felt his tears turn to boil on his face. His body no longer trembled, but shook with a familiar purpose. “They deserved it.”

    “All do.” The figure danced towards him now with nary a stride, towering above. His claw like hands patted the boy on the head, though Morus felt nothing to the touch. “Justice at any price. Vengeance by any name. I delivered.” Around them both, the memories of bandits and ruin faded away, until only the darkness surrounded the two. “Have I not?”

    The boy couldn't speak, he could barely breathe. He gasped desperately against the nothing, hoping something would calm his pounding heart. After minutes went by, he managed a slight nod, and the spirit smiled.

    “When the time comes, when I come again,” he soothed, “you'll find a voice to speak. And scream.”

    With that, the ephemeral around them receded, and Morus felt as though he fell through the air. His eyes shot open, and around him was the warm glower of a fire, real this time. He was back in the shack he slept in, surrounded by worn planks hastily patched together. He'd thrown the makeshift blankets he slept in all over the ground, and felt the sweat that soaked into his pile of hay. Above all, as he curled up, he felt himself holding back sobs and whimpering into his bedding.

  6. #6
    Member

    EXP: 3,467, Level: 2
    Level completed: 49%, EXP required for next Level: 1,533
    Level completed: 49%,
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    Vaeron's Avatar

    GP
    101

    Name
    Rameses Oasis Vaeron
    Age
    38
    Race
    human
    Gender
    male
    Location
    Corone
    Staring cold and hard over the candle flame, the grey haired warrior finally faced the man who had left him to die.

    Dark eyes met those of pale, sky blue, yet the lighter ones were those that burned with the most intensity. Twenty three long years of ire, disgust and a burning desire for revenge had left him a hollow shell when all was concerned with him who sat across the table. Slowly his jaw tightened as he dragged in a long, fierce breath that as much spoke his current emotions than his eyes did as the seconds ticked by in excruciating silence.

    Tick. Tick. Tick.

    "So," the old man slowly grunted. "How ... Have you been?"

    Vaeron pulled in a sharp breath, his hand tightening on the hilt of his indigo bladed dagger, which he called Tempest. Straightening he gritted his teeth, his mind filled with the painful memory of the cold rain lashing against his teenage back as he ran through the fields. Rain that had come with a terrible storm, rain that had come with rolling thunder and bright, flashing lightening. Rain that had come with his desperate knocking at the door of his home going, "Father let me in. Please father. Please.."

    But there had been no answer. Just as Vaeron refused to give an answer now.

    Instead his lip curled into a growling sneer as he leant back in his chair. It caused the other, older man to purse his lips and tap his finger against the side of his tankard.

    "Rameses," he continued when Vaeron would not speak, using his first name that no one else did, that he thought he had left behind in another world. Quite willingly. It made Vaeron seethe.

    "Rameses, I have been looking for you for some time. It's not - has not been easy."

    "It's not like I was wanting to see you again," Vaeron said quickly, spitefully.

    "Yes, but, son -"

    "I've described this as 'reconciliation' to those I work with, but quite honestly, seeing you here, I know now I cannot forgive you. Ever."

    The one with the whiter hair, but with the same long nose, same strong jawline and same furrowed brows, tightened his hand so much that his knuckles burst into albinism. "Son," he stressed, "You misunderstood what occurred then. It was for your own good, you needed to learn that-"

    "You don't abandon ANYONE in a storm!" Vaeron suddenly shouted, standing. His chair scraped violently back, wood against rough stone. It caused such a tumult in their lonely back room that a gust blew up and caused the single candle flame to dance with apprehension as if it felt the emotions rushing from each Raiaeran man. "Least of all your SON!"

    But that day had made Vaeron who he was. That rain which had struck hard blows like a flogging by nature, that lightening that had made him experience the greatest and most fearful night of his life had made him stronger. It had begun a process of building a man in that storm, forging a spirit that could not break, forging a spine that would not bend except to those who truly deserved it. That night had changed Vaeron from boy into true adult, causing him to understand that the world, like his father, would never forgive him for having the sexual orientations that he had been born with. Never. He would love through the cruelties, stigmas and phobias until his dying day.

    "Please," the old hunter said, lifting his spare hand in a plea, eyes fixed on Vaeron's. "Please, my boy, I could not go on knowing if you were dead or alive. Knowing that I might have caused it. I was wrong to treat you like that, I know that now. All I desire is reconciliation and forgiveness."

    "But that is not what I want," Vaeron hissed as he glared at the man who had sent him into a life of misery and disgust. Towards himself.

    "Son," his father reached towards him, sorrow in those old, dark eyes.

    Slowly his fingers extended, begging for the chance. Vaeron rapidly pulled back, shaking his head, regretting that he had ever let his father's tear-stained letters get to him ... Persuade him to come here, to this small chamber adjoined to a quiet chamber at the outskirts of Radasanth village.

    "No, father," he said, "Never."

  7. #7
    upon the cheek of night

    EXP: 224,444, Level: 20
    Level completed: 0%, EXP required for next Level: 0
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    Breaker's Avatar

    GP
    38,725

    Name
    Joshua Breaker Cronen
    Age
    30
    Race
    Demigod
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Closed for judgment.
    "The breeze did not stir. The stars did not twinkle. The trees did not sway and the brook did not babble.
    For the world did not turn when Am'aleh wept, and a tear had tumbled down her cheek."


  8. #8
    upon the cheek of night

    EXP: 224,444, Level: 20
    Level completed: 0%, EXP required for next Level: 0
    Level completed: 0%,
    EXP required for next Level: 0


    Breaker's Avatar

    GP
    38,725

    Name
    Joshua Breaker Cronen
    Age
    30
    Race
    Demigod
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Lilthis
    Use of topic: You incorporated your character's storyline elegantly into the topic, leaving no doubt in my mind as to who was reconciling with who over what. Lilthis was trying to forgive herself for being caught up in a complex situation, and that really played on my emotions, making me feel connected to her. Overall I think your scene was very well chosen and composed.

    Creativity: Use of third person omniscient was interesting, and consistent throughout. There was one occasion where I started to wonder if you were actually trying to do limited, but it was just some good internalization. I'm not an expert on the omniscient voice, but I think that tweaking the way you address the reader could potentially make it stronger. Overall I felt like this was a pretty unique take on the prompt and I enjoyed it.

    Mechanics: The only consistent issue I noticed was some lack of proper punctuation and capitalization surrounding some of the dialogue. For example,
    Eventually he said, “mean’s a lot Lil. Wish I had an orange for you.”
    Actually, two things about this. You don't need the apostrophe in "means", and the way you enter into the dialogue is awkward. There's a number of ways you could reorganize this to make it better. Personally I would go with "Means a lot Lil," he said eventually. "Wish I had an orange for you."

    Notes: I enjoyed your setting work, but I think you did a bit more of it than was necessary resulting in a slightly bloated vignette. In the future I'd recommend giving your vignettes an extra read and deciding whether there's anything you can reduce or cut.

    Yvonne
    Use of topic: This was an interesting incorporation of the kobold storyline, although it felt like a bit of a stretch. The prompt specified someone "they have been at odds with for a long time", so making the whole thing about a slight that happened in one night doesn't really fit the bill. I also wasn't completely clear on where the reconciliation happened. Overall it felt a bit like this was just something you wanted to write and you shoehorned it into the topic.

    Creativity: While I can't say this wasn't a unique approach to the topic, the idea didn't involve much creativity. It was a continuation of a recently written scene, it had a familiar setting, and it didn't really incorporate the prompt properly. You definitely do a good job of describing the bar and Yvonne's actions within it, but it might be more interesting to see her in a more exotic place, doing something less familiar next time.

    Mechanics: I didn't really notice any issues, except possibly an odd space where it doesn't belong. However I did feel like this vignette was about three times as long as the story it told required, which really weakened it overall.

    Notes: Although playing someone else's character without their permission isn't expressly against the rules of vignettes, it is generally against the rules of Althanas RP, so I'd ask that you not do something like this again in the future. Shinsou would probably have said yes if you'd asked him, for the record.

    Lorenor
    Use of topic: While this wasn't random or completely off-topic, it suffered from the same weakness as Yvonn'e entry; it wasn't about someone Lorenor had known for some time. Also, the reconciliation barely happened at the very end. Overall I feel like you could have composed the scene much better, if you really wanted to write about a fight with a dwarf, but realistically a different scene choice would have suited you better as well.

    Creativity: I liked the incorporation of Althanas lore via talking about the Corone military, but beyond that this vignette didn't feel particularly creative. It was basically a weird fight with a conversation at the end. We got to see some of Lorenor's abilities, which was nicely done, but that wasn't particularly a good representation of what we were looking for with this prompt.

    Mechanics: You had a number of issues with capitalization in particular, as well as phrasing and other general mechanics. If you'd like to work on this sometime just hit me up on discord.

    Notes: This felt a bit like a stream of conscious flow, so I might suggest taking a bit more time to consider the scene you're building before you begin next time. Scene choice is really key for a strong vignette.

    Morus
    Use of topic: This started off feeling very on topic and then sort of... meandered. You had the part about a longer term relationship working for you, but I didn't really feel a reconciliation between the characters. You did however employ the spirit of the topic to call forth an interesting moment for your character, so I commend you for that.

    Creativity: Your chosen scene was definitely the most unique one I've read so far, and yet parts of it felt fairly cliche. Especially the first few pieces of dialogue; "It is as you remember?", "Show yourself!", "As always, as you command", "Have you come to collect?" These lines all struck me as fairly overused and generic. They didn't inform much about the scene and character. Overall I do feel like you flexed your creative muscles here, but a little more consideration could have pushed it to the next level.

    Mechanics: I didn't notice any significant mechanical issues.

    Notes: It took you a bit too long to get to the conflict, and then it sort of dragged on, making this vignette a bit longer than it needed to be. For vignettes, I'd recommend focusing on getting in, telling the story, and getting out, with fewer total words if possible.

    Vaeron
    Use of topic: This entry was certainly on topic, and almost too on the nose at times. You actually mentioned reconciliation twice in your prose. One mention might have seemed clever, but two kind of overdid it. It was an interesting choice to actually NOT have the characters reconcile, but that prevented you from fully addressing the prompt.

    Creativity: This felt a little cliche, a reflection on a coming-of-age story, and a son who's too angry to forgive his father. You certainly did employ some good creativity in the use of your language, but I would have liked to see you think more outside the box. Imagine, for example, if this same meeting had taken place in a pub where people of Vaeron's orientation were welcome? I mentioned this above but I'll say it again, choosing your scene is very important towards the success of a vignette. You don't typically want it to be flat or overly familiar.

    Mechanics: I noticed a few mechanical errors, but nothing huge or that you don't know how to correct. Mostly it just seemed like you wrote this really fast.

    Notes: None.

    The winner was actually quite easy to choose this time. You all wrote well, but only one of you nailed the prompt. Congratulations, Lilthis!

    1st Place: Lilthis
    2nd Place: Morus

    Vaeron gets an honorable mention for being a close third, and everyone did a great job!

    Lilthis receives 200 EXP, 200 GP and 2 AP
    Yvonne receives 150 EXP and 1 AP
    Lorenor receives 200 EXP and 1 AP
    Morus receives 240 EXP, 150 GP and 1 AP
    Vaeron receives 150 EXP and 1 AP

    Congratulations!
    "The breeze did not stir. The stars did not twinkle. The trees did not sway and the brook did not babble.
    For the world did not turn when Am'aleh wept, and a tear had tumbled down her cheek."


  9. #9
    upon the cheek of night

    EXP: 224,444, Level: 20
    Level completed: 0%, EXP required for next Level: 0
    Level completed: 0%,
    EXP required for next Level: 0


    Breaker's Avatar

    GP
    38,725

    Name
    Joshua Breaker Cronen
    Age
    30
    Race
    Demigod
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    All rewards added!
    "The breeze did not stir. The stars did not twinkle. The trees did not sway and the brook did not babble.
    For the world did not turn when Am'aleh wept, and a tear had tumbled down her cheek."


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