Washed Away ((open))

[Breaker]

Open. Continued from Unexplained Absence (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=13611).

The streets of Radasanth ran deep with rainwater. Sewers backed up on low ground, rivers of filth that drove out even the lowliest vermin. A large warehousing district had been drowned by the deluge, the shorter buildings completely submerged. The few occupants had fled or died, their bloated bodies like buoys of ill fate. Rats raced up the lip of the basin that formed the district. The rodents scattered as a larger survivor lurched from the shadows. His black boots splashed through the miniature rapids, boots that seemed to crack the paving stones with each step.

The man tried to think, but his instincts left no room for rationalization. Survive! Head buried against the driving onslaught of wind and water, the man found his way without needing to look. Forked lighting lit the sky. The man's eyes snapped shut against the brilliance. But not before he saw the dark hole over his heart. What little blood he shed had long since rinsed from his bare chest. The bullet had gone in there, and out again almost as fast. He recalled the impact with bizarre lucidity, the muzzle flash that had dazzled him as much as the lightning. Thunder rolled, and he remembered the gunshot. It had been loud, ricocheting. The echo had hurt his ears.

"Why am I alive?"

Before the bullet, his memory went hazy and dark. It had bounced off his chest plate. The image of a bald man with a clipboard filled his mind. Saying something about a superior skeleton. The image shimmered and dissolved into a dead rat that floated past down the hill, its skin loose and liquid like an opaque jellyfish. The memories passed from his mind as he trudged gamely up the hill. His legs knew no pain but lagged wearily. His denim pants felt like full plate mail, ripped like a knight coming from battle. He crested the hill, drawing breath in heavy gasps. One hand rose to shield his mouth, to keep the water out of his lungs. He was out of the deathtrap that had become of the warehouse district. With a final effort he muscled himself into the lee of a grey brick building, jamming his back against the solid wall. His heartbeat slowed as he rested, and tried to remember. Images took shape from the mist in his mind, but nothing tangible emerged.

A sound, beyond the rain. The man's ears quivered, hair on the back of his neck rising despite the downpour. Sheet lightning illuminated his face momentarily. Two weeks worth of stubble decorated his chin and neck in a coarse coat, failing to hide the Y-shaped scar high on cheek. It stood out, white as bone in the electric ambience. The light vanished and the thunder rolled, so heavy it could have cracked the paving stones of the street. As the echoes faded the downpour seemed peaceful by comparison. The splashing rain took on a sense of serenity. The man by the building turned his head, listening for some sign of the sound he had heard moments before.

Someone else roamed the dirt washed streets that night.

[A Nony Mouse]

As soon as Travis’ boot hit the ground just outside the Citadel, he knew it was going to be a long night. Rain beat the ground mercilessly and wind threatened to topple even the buildings. A thunderclap sounded from the mountains just beyond the city of Radasanth, only moments after lightning had illuminated the sky. Stories of flooding in the lower districts had abounded in the Citadel’s lobby, now a place of refuge for those caught unaware by the storm’s ferocity. Travis needed to get back to his room on the other side of the city, but the tempest had other ideas. Streams formed in the streets as sewers gushed above their subterranean tunnels and ran down the roads. Waterlogged rats ran from building to building, seemingly being birthed by the rain. There was water everywhere; it was the worst storm that the young traveler had ever seen.

He made his way down the main thoroughfare in Radasanth and saw a tree blocking the path ahead. Trees didn’t grow that large except in the patches of forest dotting the edge of the city. To find such a large tree in the center of the city spoke of the power in this storm. Perhaps the rumors of flooding weren’t just rumors.

Travis turned around and took a side alley shortcut that would bring him along the outskirts of the warehouse district. While the labyrinth of side streets would eventually bring him to the inn where he stayed, it would also allow him to get a peak to see if the stories were true. Lightning flashed across the sky in a jagged tear and then the earsplitting boom followed soon after. Travis felt as if his ears would burst from the noise; the storm was close.

Just follow these alleys to the edge of the district and then head back to the inn, he reminded himself. No need to get overly curious. Though the same gods who unleashed their wrath on the city of Radasanth in a tempest also seemed to have other plans for the young adventurer as well.

[Breaker]

"Footsteps."

The shirtless man identified the noise. Another person, trudging through the storm. Or was it? The image of a tall broad man with a revolver entered his mind. The bastard who had shot him. "Am I being hunted?" The only thing the damaged soldier wanted was to find a dry spot to sit and sort out his memories. But that would have to wait. He would not be hunted through the storm, but turn the tables on the enemy. With his instincts and talents he could not lose. It seemed as though necessity pulled the memories he needed from the dark jumble of his mind. He knew what to do.

Splashing gently he sprinted from the cover of the building, straight at the stone wall of an adjacent warehouse. He didn't stop running at the wall, just changed direction. He ran straight up, his boots responding to his thoughts. They clung when they needed to, and released for each step. Muscle and sinew bulged against his tanned skin as he crested the building and rolled onto the roof, breathing a little hard. Like a crab he scuttled sideways on all fours, eyes searching, ears on high alert. As he approached the edge he stood, sprinted a few steps and jumped. The leap carried him an unnatural distance and he landed in a compact roll on the next rooftop. Stood up and scuttled sideways again. He was getting closer to the footsteps. He could hear someone's lungs working now, could make out the heartbeat over the slashing rain.

The soldier went prone, balanced on his fingertips and the toes of his boots. He tore a shingle from the roof and held it in front of his face as he peered downwards, not wanting his Caucasian complexion to stand out in the darkness. "Not the greatest camouflage, but it'll have to do."

He did not know whether to feel relief or disappointment when he saw it was not the revolver wielding giant from his memory. Below trudged a red haired young man, probably a couple inches shorter than his own six feet, less muscular but athletic just the same. The fellow looked deceptively harmless. "Anyone tough enough to be out in this weather must be worth his weight in a tight situation." The soldier felt conflicted. Could this be an ally of those he had escaped from? It would make sense, to send out a clean shaven young man to search, someone the soldier would not recognize. Somehow, he felt certain he had never seen the fiery haired fellow before. At the same time, it wouldn't be fair to kill the lad without being certain he deserved to die. "Compromise."

Scuttling sideways was more difficult with only one hand on the rooftop. He managed though. He needed the shingle to hide his face. He stalked the young man silently, following his path along the rooftop, watching at all times. "Let him show me the slightest sign that he's looking for me, and he'll be dead as a drowned rat."

[A Nony Mouse]

A bolt of lightning struck the earth; Travis traced its jagged path with his eyes as the thunderclap sounded in his ears. He stood at the edge of the warehouse district and looked out over it as if he was looking over the Valeena Lake in Scara Brae. I hope there’s no one in there, he prayed to no god in particular. Turning, he saw a small overhang behind him and quickly ran to huddle under its momentary shelter. The deluge had increased in ferocity, if that was possible, making the streets into streams. From under the overhang, Travis’ eyes scanned the flooded district.

Not wanting to venture out into the pouring rain again, he slid down the wall and let himself come to rest on the stone stoop below. Pulling out his rywan wood ocarina, he began playing a melancholy tune. No one would be around during this storm, so he didn’t worry about the ocarina’s magic affecting others. The notes rose in the brisk air, but were soon battered down by the slicing raindrops only feet away. Travis leaned back and closed his eyes as he waited for the rain to let up a little.

Desiring a bit of companionship, he played Ardinne’s summon song and she came up out of the water rising through the warehouse district to sit by his side. Idly playing his ocarina with one hand, his other dropped down to pet the river otter calmly. He could tell she was enjoying the weather; water was her element. Travis smiled as he thought of her frolicking through puddles. Then he suddenly stopped his music.

Ardinne enhanced his senses when she was near and Travis now sat completely still, honed in on movement near him. His eyes picked out a fluttering flag a few doors down, the soaked fabric snapping loudly each time the wind tore past it. Rats scurried across the paving stones of the roads, their teeth gnashing indignantly when they passed too close to one another. Further away though, Travis picked out a different scraping sound, like a boot being drug across the ground.

Turning, Travis squinted through the sheets of rain to try and make out the new disturbance. However, he couldn’t see anything coming down any of the roads from his vantage point. Still, there was someone else out here in the night; he didn’t know if it was a friend or a foe, but he would soon find out.

[Breaker]

"This is a waste of time."

It became obvious that the red haired boy posed no threat. Just a carefree traveller with a passion for wild weather and outlandish instruments. The appearance of a small mammal shocked the soldier, and it took him a moment to recognize it as an otter. The creature settled next to the boy, who stroked it in a familiar fashion. The wind gusted, throwing water down in veritable sheets. They broke on the soldier’s back like ocean waves, threatening to batter him flat. The wind's power increased and tore the shingle from his hand. He dropped flat instinctively, hiding his face and scraping one boot noisily across the rooftop.

"Damn. Stay quiet."

More than likely the musician had heard nothing. The bare-chested man lay prone, thinking. He needed to make a decision. He could feel his body temperature dropping from the wind chill and relentless rain. Only his intense focus and adrenaline-rich veins kept his teeth from chattering. He needed to find shelter soon. Someplace warm, with food. He stubbornly stayed put though. If there were hunters in the night he wanted to nip them in the bud, take them out before they had a chance to locate him. In the meantime, getting off the roof would be good enough. The rooftops, open to the elements as they were, would be the last place anyone would look for him. "I'll need some proper camouflage if I'm going to ground level."

With patience borne from everlasting experience his eyes picked his surroundings apart. He considered breaking into a building, but doing so would be a noisy affair. Besides, there was no guarantee he would find anything useful. Finally he settled on a flag that flapped noisily two buildings over. The dark blue fabric looked almost black drenched in water. It would suffice.

He scuttled across the rooftops, leaping the gaps easily only after checking to make sure the musician wasn't looking. "No reason to drag him into this." He leapt high and snatched the flag, then plummeted to the ground. The wet fabric tore soundlessly and he landed hard, rolling into a concealed doorway. The redhead might have heard the thud he made hitting the ground, but he had disappeared quickly. Methodically, he went to work on the flag. Stretched it out flat and pulled a knife from his boot without thinking. He paused for a moment, surprised. The prevaldia dagger had been in a hidden sheath in his boot the whole time, and he hadn't realized it until that moment. He disregarded the fortunate find and resumed his task. Cut the flag into three pieces; one a three foot long strip, the second three by one foot rectangle, and then the remainder of the flag. The final largest piece he sliced two armholes in and wore like a vest. The strip he knotted around his waist, to keep the makeshift garment closed and in place. The rectangle went on his head, wrapped skilfully and knotted in the back so only his eyes peered out. Work done for the moment, he sheathed the dagger and looked down at himself.

"Not bad, considering the circumstances. I'll blend into the shadows nicely."

Like a creature of the shadows themselves he moved back into the storm, feet impossibly silent on the wet ground. In addition to camouflage the converted flag gave him some protection against the elements. He circled a building, then moved on to the next, working a grid search on the immediate area. Yearnings for a fire and a warm meal had vanished like lightning. He was a killer loose in the night, hunting an unseen enemy.

[A Nony Mouse]

A shingle shattered on the ground several yards from where Travis sat. The noise was barely audible in the torrential downpour, but the wanderer saw it hit the street. His mind immediately made him think that whoever was out there had thrown the shingle and he glanced at the rooftops around him. However, he saw nothing out of the ordinary through the sheets of icy rain and soon stopped looking. The wind had picked up; that was probably what had caused it.

Travis returned to his music and let the sweet tunes wash over him as he sat in the protection of the shop’s overhang. Seconds ticked by and then the red-haired warrior heard a thud sound close to him. His eyes snapped open and he peered into the darkness, using Ardinne to enhance his perception. The flag was gone, no longer snapping in the stiff winds as they raced down the street. That was one to many coincidences for Travis to ignore; he rose to his feet and swung his cypress pole around into his hands.

Stalking down the road with the rain pummeling him, he slowly crept to the alley by the building where the flag had been and stole a quick glance inside. Nothing. Sighing, but remaining tense, he decided that it was about time to return to the inn. Hearing phantoms was enough fun for one evening.

He kept his pace brisk as he weaved his way through the streets and alleys of the deserted Radasanth. The moon illuminated the roads with an eerie glow; puddles danced as droplets pounded them. As forsaken as the streets were, Travis couldn’t help but feel as though he was being watched. As long as they only watch, he thought.

He rounded a corner and saw six men walking down the street away from him. Doubling back, the adventurer ducked behind a few crates stacked by a shop. He cautiously stuck his head out into the open road and made mental notes about the strangers.

A towering brute of a man walked in the center of the group, surrounded on all sides by the others. He wore a black cloak of some kind and carried what looked like a broken crossbow. What good will that do him? the red-haired warrior wondered. Though the man’s muscles bulged the material of his cloak so Travis figured the man could use his fists if he needed. The other five figures wore similar long black cloaks and each carried a seven foot pole with a metal tip. All in all, they looked like trouble.

Travis crept slowly backward and turned the corner back the way he had come. Jogging down several side streets, he emerged just in front of the six strange men. From this new angle, he could see that the five smaller men each wore steel chainmail under their cloaks and that their spears were akashima redwood with steel tips. Decently nice weapons for common ruffians, Travis noted.

He decided that these men warranted further investigation and so when they slipped down a nearby alley, the traveler crossed the drenched paving stones in pursuit.

[Breaker]

"Footsteps. Coming this way."

The soldier went prone with his side pressed against the wall of a wide alley. Slowly he sank into the muck, concealing his bare arms. The improvised mask allowed him to submerge his head up to the eyes and still breathe with relative ease. His over clocked body warmed the mud. He felt comfortable. The elements had gone from foe to friend with the time it took him to convert the flag. Within the void, the footsteps sounded thunderous. They approached rapidly, five or six men. They came into his line of vision and his heart rate increased. The giant man led the way, standing out not only for his size, but his garb and weapon. A black rain slicker covered the man's massive frame, and an ugly looking revolver clutched in his right hand.

"Colt Anaconda."

Where the name came from, the soldier couldn't be sure. But he knew the make of the gun as surely as he knew it carried six .44 magnum rounds. A brutal weapon. He had survived being shot by it once, but doubted he could do so again. If the giant had half a brain he would aim for the head this time. Five more warriors came behind the leader, wearing heavy cloaks native to Althanas. From the bulky shapes he could tell they wore armor beneath, light plate or chain mail probably. The soldier felt a rush. He liked it when his enemies wore armor. It gave them a false sense of security. Each of the armor-laden men carried a long spear. Too long to be practical in the twisting alleys of Radasanth. Long pikes might have been effective on the battlefield, but the ungainly weapons would play to his advantage that day.

As the pack moved out of his field of vision, he heard a familiar sound. The footsteps of the red haired boy, lighter than the goons but still audible to his sensitive ears. From the sound of it, the boy was following the hunting party. A deadly plan formed in the soldier's mind as the rose from the mire like a deep sea monster. He scaled the nearest wall like a leopard, fingers finding purchase in the smallest stone imperfections, feet gripping the wall as surely as a fly's. Again he took to the rooftops, moving slower now, sacrificing speed in favour of silence. Soon he stood one story above the other men, watching them all. The giant passed beneath him, then his followers, spear points flashing in a sudden flare of lightning. Almost before the flare had vanished thunder rolled. Before the echoes faded he had dropped to the ground behind the redhead.

"Perfect."

He looked down the long alley. Beyond the musician he could see the six would be hunters. All seven men had their backs to him, unaware. "Time to shake things up a little." He melted into the shadows by a sodden pile of garbage, ignoring the rank odours that persisted despite the weather. Practically invisible, he crouched, then breathed in deep and called out loud;

"Over here!"

He felt no shame in using the young man as bait, only a thirst to destroy those who sought him. He would see to it that no harm came to the boy, but still use him to manipulate the enemy. Whatever the reaction to his shout, it would play to his advantage. While the hunters chased his pawn, he would pick them off one by one.

[A Nony Mouse]

A deep voice boomed from just behind Travis, causing the six strange men to whirl about in anticipation. They spotted the red-haired warrior easily and began moving down the alley toward him. Backing up, he weighed his options. The biggest man seemed to have no working weapon, but the other five had very sharp spears. He didn’t like his odds. Turning to flee, Travis scanned the end of the alley for whoever had gotten the attention of the black-cloaked figures. Nothing but garbage and crates greeted him as he broke into a run.

He heard the men shout behind him and heard their boots slap the slick stones of the alleyway. Knowing he most likely couldn’t outrun them, Travis searched for a good hiding place. Nothing leapt out at him, so he turned onto the nearest side street. Footsteps sounded along the road behind him; his sudden change of direction hadn’t thrown his pursuers off on bit.

Up ahead the adventurer noticed a cart parked outside a small building. Increasing his speed, he leapt into the back and threw the tarp over himself. Laying perfectly still as he heard the men round the bend behind him, he tried to calm his breathing. He peered out from beneath the heavy fabric and watched as the strange men ran by. First the leader, then two spearmen soon after. Mere seconds flew by before two more of the black-clad figures ran by. As their footsteps faded away down the street, Travis saw no sign of the last man.

Weren’t there six of them? Travis wondered as he crept out of the cart. He glanced back toward the way they had come, but saw no sign of the last stranger. Shrugging, he began formulating a plan in his head. The hunted was, for the moment, playing the hunter. He’d have to act fast and take the men by surprise if he was to have a chance. And keep my eyes open for the last spearman, he noted. No sense in letting them get the jump on him.

The traveler stalked as silently as he could down the street after the five strangers, a loud clap of thunder masking his progress. Time to do some damage.

[Breaker]

The soldier's expertly designed trap unfolded perfectly. His disembodied voice rang in the alley, and six pairs of eyes swivelled to light upon the red haired musician. The boy wisely took to his heels, sprinting out of the alley. The six hunters followed like trained dogs. Out in bad weather and finding nothing, the soldier felt certain they would try to chase down any living thing they saw. But they would not catch the lad. Their heavy frames and weighted armor could not match the musician's quick feet. They chased him anyways, glad to have something to do besides wander the rat infested back alleys.

The man with the colt dashed past the heap of garbage, followed closely by his crew of spearmen. As the last two neared the mouth of the alley a broken broomstick fell from the trash heap. It tangled in one man's legs and he crashed to the ground, cracking his knee and losing control of his spear. His partner stopped while the leading four dashed away.

"Watch your step, by the Thaynes! You okay mate?"

The fallen man struggled to his feet on shaky legs, gesturing wildly to mask his pain.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Go get that bastard so we can get back to barracks. I'll catch up."

The spearman needed no second bidding, put his head down and charged into the driven rain. The last goon took his time in picking up his spear, limping slightly as he tested his injured knee, a low string of curses spewing from his mouth.

"Bloody trash, a man can't even walk the streets safely no more. Got filth all over my flamin' cloak, have to get it cleaned now."

As he bent to wipe the mud off his knees a hand extended from the darkness and plucked the cap off his head. Before he could react a heavy boot replaced the hand. The snap kick caught him flush on the chin and he collapsed backwards, dead as a drowned rat.

The soldier rose from his hiding place and examined his handiwork. The dead man's jaw hung at a loose angle. Broken teeth and blood decorated the ground around him, but the rain quickly rinsed them away. The killer grabbed a handful of chainmail and hauled his victim upright against a brick wall. Stripped the man of his cloak then dropped him in a puddle. The chameleon put the cloak and cap on, then pulled up the hood and picked up the spear. He had broader shoulders than the fallen man, but the goon's chainmail made them look almost the same size. At a distance, in the rain, no one would be able to tell them apart. The soldier smiled in grim satisfaction as he set off down the alley. He had just become invisible in a whole new way.

Minutes later he found the five remaining hunters. Clearly they had not caught the musician. The leader, already in a bad mood due to the weather, had become abusive with the simultaneous loss of their quarry and one underling.

"What the hell are you bastards being paid for? Not only can you not catch a damn thing, you can't even keep an eye on one another! Where is that other bastard? If I find out he's been resting inside one of these places I'll put a bullet in his brain!"

The soldier listened in appreciation as he lifted the cover of a wide sewer drain. The confusion among the hunters would play to his advantage, and he was about to throw another wrench into the works. He paused for a moment, thinking about the voice of the man he had just killed. A medium tone, gravelly, not altogether confident. He remembered the language the man had used, and with these fixed in his mind, stepped into the open street, calling in a passable mimic;

"I found the filthy bastard! Come on mates, we'll be back to barracks in no time!"

He dashed back into the alley, leapt over the open manhole and released the cloak as he did so. Dropped the spear and cap next to the sewer as the cloak hit the water far below. Not waiting to admire his handiwork, he scaled the nearest wall, feeling as at home as a raccoon on a tree in the dead of night. As he pulled himself onto the rooftop he heard the thundering footsteps of the hunters approaching at a run. The soldier crouched low and peered downwards, eager to observe the chaos which would ensue.

[A Nony Mouse]

Pressed up against the side of a nearby building, Travis Kiltias heard the leader of the strange men yelling at them for their blunders. Another shout from down the alley sent the men chasing after phantoms again. Poking his head out cautiously to check if the men had gone, the red-haired adventurer saw the last spearman disappear around a bend. As lightning illuminated the vacant street, he idly wondered who else stalked the night. Someone was leading these men around the city and Travis felt as if he was somehow being manipulated as well.

When he caught up to the black-clad strangers, the traveler noticed they were huddled around an open sewerhole. “D’ya reckon he’s still there?” one of them asked their leader. “Or did the water carry him away?” Travis noticed a spear lying to the side unattended and quickly counted the men. Still five of them. So the man in the sewer must be the sixth member of their group. Unless… he couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on, all he knew was he could not pass up such a golden opportunity.

Creeping forward with the noise of the rain to mask his footsteps, the red-haired adventurer swung his cypress pole from its place at his back. When he was within range of the nearest spearman, he pulled back and struck the man in the hindquarters.

The force of the push sent the man stumbling forward and into the open sewer. The remaining four men whirled at this new threat, their eyes narrowing when they noticed their assailant. “After him!” the leader growled to the others. Three spears lowered their points toward Travis’ body and began racing forward. However, the warrior still didn’t like the odds and so he turned once again and fled.

As he rounded the corner of the building, there was a small explosion on the wall across from the entrance to the alley where the men were. Scanning quickly as he ran, Travis could not see anything that would have caused such a reaction. Are these men mages? he wondered.

A stack of crates beckoned and the red-haired musician quickly scaled their slick surfaces. He leapt from the highest crate and hooked his arms over the edge of a nearby building. Pulling himself up as a spear was launched toward him, he swung his legs over the side at the last second. Its steel point glanced off the stone wall and clattered to the ground below. Travis heard curses as the brutish leader berated his companions once again for losing their prey.

“Climb up after him,” the leader was saying. Knowing he had a little extra time before the spearmen would be able to get on the rooftops, Travis scanned the buildings for something to use against these strangers. He couldn’t keep relying on the mysterious phantom that kept appearing at the worst times. I need a plan. When his eyes lit on a crumbling chimney two roofs over, Travis saw his chance. He got a running start and jumped the gap between roofs easily. Just as his first pursuer crested the top of the building, Travis dodged behind the chimney.

“Hey you,” he called as he poked his head out on the side. Unsure whether or not he had caught the man’s attention, all he could do was wait.

[Breaker]

The soldier watched from above like an avenging angel as the red haired boy sprung the trap for him. "Two down, and I'm nothing more than a shadow." A roaring concussion erupted from below as the Colt Anaconda spat its first bullet. "Five left in the cylinder." A section of wall exploded. The shot had missed its mark, and the four remaining hunters gave chase to the pole wielding musician. Seconds later the shadow landed on the ground. He could hear panicked shouts and splashing sounds coming from the sewer, the pitch of the man's voice rising over the steady beat of rainfall. The soldier lifted the heavy cover easily and replaced it, the sodden flag sticking to his steely muscles. Drowning in a sewer was not an ideal death, but he knew no mercy for the men who had wronged him.

A quick jog down the street caught him up to the hunters. It became apparent that the redhead had escaped to high ground. The soldier watched from the safety of the shadows which embraced him like one of their own. One by one the hunters scrambled onto a stack of crates. The spearmen went first, followed by their leader. They climbed awkwardly, slipping and sliding on the slick wood but refusing to put down their weapons. The soldier waited until the giant gunman was halfway up, then made his move. One of the spearmen had made it onto the roof, but the pole fighter would have to deal with that.

Like a streak of darkness he dashed across the open space and leapt feet first at the base of the stack. An instant before impact his magical boots became much heavier than seemed possible, adding momentum and power. He struck the bottom crate with thunderous force, shattering the rotted wood and shifting the structure's balance. With simultaneous cries of shock the three climbing men fell, landing heavily amidst the wooden wreckage. The soldier leapt up and took flight, confident they would follow.

"Up, you weaklings! Get up! That's him, that's the target! Come on damn it!"

The giant's frenzied shouts caught up to the soldier as he rounded a corner and sped down the ensuing alley. An overpass connected the two buildings, creating a darkened area half way down the side street. Lightning flashed, like a sign from the heavens showing him his next move. As thunder followed in the lightning’s wake he walked up the wall and upside down along the overpass. Curled into a ball and gripped his knees in an inverted fetal position, and waited.

Seconds later the giant man ran into the alley, sprinting by directly beneath the overpass, completely unaware. The first spearman followed quickly, equally as ignorant. The third man came a little slower. He had fallen the farthest and injured his ankle, but limped along gamely until he crossed beneath the overpass and his life ended.

Two powerful hands reached down and grabbed his head, lifting him clean off the ground. The hands jerked in one direction then wrenched back the other way. The hunter's neck broke with a sound like breaking bubble wrap, vertebrae popping out of place in a sickening grind. His spear clattered to the paving stones and an instant later his body followed.

The soldier resumed the upside down fetal position. He liked it there. Out of the rain, and he could hold himself there as long as he needed to. He hung like a deadly vampire bat, waiting for prey to approach. Eventually, the others would return to find their comrade. And when they did, he would find peace of mind.

[A Nony Mouse]

He heard footsteps coming toward him across the slick clay tiles of the rooftops. The man breathed heavily from the exertion of climbing the crates below and that allowed Travis to pinpoint his location. As the stranger neared the crumbling chimney, Travis rounded the corner and took up a fighting stance. Out on the open roof, both men would have full range of their weapons. “Why are you following me?” he asked he spearman facing him.

The man grinned and gripped his spear in a battle stance. “Boss says you and Breaker’ve gotta pay.” With that eloquent explanation, he lunged at Travis with a low thrust.

The red-haired adventurer easily dodged it and kicked out as the shaft passed his knee. The steel tip lodged beneath a nearby shingle and threw the man off balance. Whirling in with his pole at the ready, Travis dealt a punishing blow to the black-clad stranger’s back. His opponent’s eyes squinted in pain, but he kept his grip on the spear.

Readying for another attack, the man slashed toward Travis’ chest. The cypress pole whipped through the air to intercept it and quickly reversed so that the other end smashed into the side of the oaf’s knee. He fell down hard, the slant of the roof causing his balance to instantly be thrown off. Keeping his momentum going, the traveler whirled the pole over his head and cracked the spearman across the chest. The man’s arms flew behind him to break his fall and he let go of the spear.

As it rolled down the slick roof, Travis gave chase. It was a weapon far superior to his own and he had no problem using it. He heaved his own pole back at the man; its blunt end catching him in the cheekbone and splitting the skin. He didn’t bother to retrieve it; instead he stroked the smooth akashima redwood of the spear’s shaft. This was his now.

Walking over to where the stranger lay on his side, hand cupped to face, Travis summed up the situation. He couldn’t let this man escape, but neither could he kill him in cold blood. Reaching down, he drew a small dagger out of the man’s boot and grabbed a handful of his cloak. Pulling the thick material over the gutter on the edge of the building, he stabbed the dagger through and into the wooden eave beneath. His attacker was now pinned there until someone discovered him.

“Who’s Breaker,” he asked the man as he straightened. An ominous crack of thunder accented his demand, but all he got was a smile.

“Boss’ll get you both, just you wait,” the man said, shivering as the water collected on his open chest. With no cloak to protect him from the night’s elements, it would seem like an eternity until he was rescued.

Travis walked back to where the stack of crates had been and looked over the edge. Splinters of wood were strewn across the alleyway. Guess I need to find another way down, he decided. Back on the hunt, he lowered himself and snuck off across the roofs of Radasanth; intent on finding the rest of the pack.

[Breaker]

Curled upside down, the soldier focused on the sounds of nature. All around him came the rain beat a dynamic salvo. He caught every disturbance in nature's noises; waterlogged debris blowing in the wind, a rotted roof collapsing, the scurry of a frightened rat. Lightning illuminated the world and for a brief moment he had a clear view of the corpse below him, head twisted at an uncanny angle. As the thunder rolled away he detected a different kind of vermin. The tentative steps of his two remaining prey. They had finally realized the peril they faced. The soldier wondered if they could feel icy fear running down their spines along with the driven rain. If not, he would put the fear in them, and then snuff it out with their lives.

The giant man with the colt peered around a brick corner, weapon held in a ready position. The last spear protruded past him, point held at the ready. The soldier grimaced. They had finally started using their heads. He stayed perfectly still. Soon they would pass into the death zone, where his lethal hands could reach them. The taste of victory worked its way into his mouth like bittersweet bile. And then the storm decided to spite him.

Lightning lit the world once more, and he saw the expressions of shock and alarm on his enemies faces at the same time as they spotted him. Without thinking he changed position, allowing the static friction in his boots to dissipate. Landed catlike next to the twisted body. Thunder masked the gunshot but he felt shards of stone rain down on him as the section of overpass he had been curled on exploded. "Change position, move! He can't see!" He dashed to a bolted door nearby and shattered it with a devastating kick. Hit the deck and rolled right back to where he had come from, nestled against the corpse. Saw the muzzle flash and heard the revolver's report as the giant fired at the demolished door. Then silence.

"Sir?" The spearman spoke, "What do we do?"

More silence followed, and the soldier did not breathe. Just lay still, his patience infinite. Finally the giant issued and order.

"We need reinforcements. Somehow we must have underestimated him. Anyways, we won't find him now. Come on, it'll take us all night to find our way out of this damn place."

He waited as the footsteps receded a half block then followed, keeping to the shadows, silent as a wraith. Like a leopard he stalked them, drawing closer with each corner they turned. Then he rounded a building and stopped short.

The prey had stopped as well, for their path was blocked. Ahead the road banked downhill sharply. Rain sluiced down the incline in a thin sheet, feeding a vile river of black water that had formed on the next crossroad. The two men seemed at a loss for where to turn next, or perhaps awed by the mighty current that had formed in what had been a warehouse district days before. The soldier moved in for the kill.

Perhaps he had been thinking more about a warm fire then where he was stepping. Perhaps he simply didn't detect the broken paving stone. For whatever reason, one step away from the kill a crackling sound came from beneath his foot. Both men wheeled around, caught unawares but ready to fight. The soldier met them halfway, ducked under the initial spear thrust and caught the giant's hands with his own, forcing the barrel of the gun away. He struggled against the larger man, all the while dodging about to stay out of the stabbing spear's range. The battle seemed a stalemate for the moment, but soon one side would give way. With grim determination the soldier tried to ignore the fact that he odds were against him. For the first time that night he found he was fighting for his life.

[A Nony Mouse]

An explosion sounded from a few streets over, catching the traveler’s attention. The giant man who followed him had made explosions too. Maybe that’s where the strangers are. Travis dropped to the street below, deciding to scout things out and see where the men were. His legs stung a bit as they absorbed the impact of the fall, but nothing major. Straightening out, he ran to an alley where he thought the sound had been. After following it a little way, it came to an intersection.

Great, he thought, Now where? As if in answer to his question, another explosion sounded through the pummeling sheets of rain that drenched the adventurer from head to toe. Knowing that his enemies were close, he slowed his pace to a brisk walk. Before him, he saw a body and a demolished door, splintered pieces of wood floating down the road as the rains washed them away.

“He’s here,” Travis whispered. That explained the explosions up ahead; the phantom must be battling the brute and his men! With that knowledge spurring his actions, the red-haired musician jogged to the corner of the building and surveyed the scene.

Two huge men were locked in a struggle; one was the brute from earlier but Travis didn’t recognize the other. That must be the man who kept yelling, he decided. Then his attention focused on one of the spearman off to the side. He was focused on the other two, his eyes searching for an opening to use his polearm to his advantage.

“That’s not fair,” the musician muttered. Swinging his stolen spear from his back, Travis darted into the street and raced as silently as he could toward the fight. The man’s back was to him and he needed the stranger to turn around. “Hey!” he shouted. Raising his spear as the black-clad fighter whirled to face the new threat, Travis lunged forward at the other’s knees.

The spear-wielding enemy deftly batted the attack aside and launched into his own flurry of attacks. As lightning forked across the dark sky, it was all Travis could do to fend off the man’s advances. He hoped engaging one of the two enemies in battle had evened the odds for the other man, because he had his hands full here.

[Breaker]

The soldier could feel himself losing the struggle. With each passing moment the giant's tree trunk arms seemed to get stronger, and each time he dodged or ducked the spear point came a little closer to its mark. He needed to do something drastic. Breathing heavy, he found a moment to root one foot to the slick stones and hit the giant with a crushing leg kick. No response. They danced in a tight circle, sweat mingling with water in their battle to the death.

Salvation came in the form of a red haired musician. Like a part of the storm the boy swept the spearman away, leaving the odds evened. The soldier saw fear in his enemy's eyes and seized the opportunity.

He bulled forward, enchanted boots giving him extra traction. Despite the larger man's superior weight, his simple leather boots slid easily on the rain washed road. The giant's eyes widened as he realized his opponent's intention. The soldier was forcing him backwards towards the river borne from weeks of rainfall. The grisly water roared between buildings, a deadly trap for anyone foolish enough to fall in. In desperation the giant dodged sideways, releasing the Colt and delivering a devastating backhand bunch to the smaller man's face.

The soldier fell backwards, all his focus concentrated on aiming the gun. He squeezed the trigger as he tumbled backwards, saw the bullet punch a messy hole in the giant's chest. A puff of pink mist erupted behind him and he fell to his knees. The soldier didn't get to see his enemy hit the ground, for at that moment he fell into the river, and it snatched him greedily into its current.

He spun like a rock in a tumbler, instinctively tucking the Colt into his belt splaying his limbs to create drag. The river ran to powerfully for him to control himself though. As the air in his lungs began to run out, he found himself facing an inevitable death in the flooded streets of Radasanth.

[A Nony Mouse]

Rain slashed into Travis’ arms, coursed down his face, and made the paving stones of the street slick and dangerous. He had to blink the water out of his eyes every few seconds as he battled for his life against the black-clad spearman. The moonlight glinted of the tips of the spears, warning their targets instants before they struck. Travis backpedaled away from the river surging through the center of Radasanth and defended himself against the stranger’s attacks.

The butt of his foe’s spear smacked Travis in the shin, causing him to fall to a knee. For a few more seconds, he fought off the man’s advances, but soon the enemy’s spear sliced the red-haired adventurer’s skin. He yelled, unheard against a sudden clap of thunder. Crimson was washed away almost instantly by the incessant rain. Using the end of his spear, Travis pushed himself up to his feet, letting the spearman get another hit in as he did.

This guy’s good, Travis admitted. The akashima staff whirled around his body, the steel tip darting in from time to time to get a hit on its target. Travis had never seen someone fight like that. As he blocked the fierce blows, he observed the man’s fighting style closely. The black-clad warrior forced the traveler back until he was fighting almost up against a building.

Having a wall behind him limited his range of movement and the other fighter took advantage of it. The spearman launched into a flurry of attacks, the steel spear slashing through Travis’ leather armor and skipping off stone when it missed. He winced after each hit, the fresh wound stung as it was washed in cold rainwater.

He couldn’t hear the other two men fighting, but he assumed they were close. Lifting one foot and pushing off the wall toward his enemy, Travis flew to the offensive. He’d been sliced up enough; it was time to turn the tables if he could. But the way the other man fought, it would still be a tough battle.

[Breaker]

The soldier's world crashed and rolled, his muscular body tossed about like a leaf on the wind. Before long he had lost track of up and down, floundering helplessly against the deadly current, barely coherent enough to grab a quick breath each time his head broke the surface. Each time his body struck the stony edge of a submerged building he felt his consciousness slipping away.

Frustration ravaged his mind as the river worked on his body. To have defeated the giant man and his disciples, only to become a bloated corpse in an anonymous watery grave seemed like a slap in the face from fate. He tried to push the physical and mental weariness aside, rebuilding the void of intense focus that the river had washed away. Gradually his mind cleared, and in place of the chaos a plan grew.

He swam as best he could for a moment, just long enough to break the surface and fill his lungs with air. Then he sent a mental message to the boots on his feet. Their weight increased drastically and he sank like a ships anchor, down and down until his feet hit bottom. Eyes shut tight against the dirt filled rush of water he felt around with his feet, finding an uphill slant that didn't run against the current and beginning to walk up it. Each step started a fire in his muscles that even the icy river could not douse, but he pushed himself onwards, one foot after the other. The current seemed to want to tear him limb from limb, but he imposed his will upon nature's might, refusing to yield.

After an age the pull of the water decreased. Feeling frantic the soldier pressed onwards, and suddenly his head broke the surface.

Too tired to stand he splashed out of the river on all fours, crawling his way to a sheltered overhang and collapsed in a corner where the driven rain couldn't reach him. He lay there, shaking and bone weary, but alive. His mind told him to move on, but his body could not comply. He needed to rest, for a short while at least.

[A Nony Mouse]

The sound of the wooden poles cracking against one another as the two warriors fought accented the steady sound of the rain beating against the street. Thunder boomed across the city, almost in time with the hits each man inflicted on the other. It was as if nature was in tune with their battle. Travis fought with all his cunning and skill, but he was barely able to keep the spearman at bay.

Suddenly he was struck with an idea. When his opponent’s spear came in again, he let it by his defenses. The steel tip punctured the leather of his brigandine and stuck in his side. Pain lanced through his body, but he clamped down with his arm, pinning the spear at his side. Dropping his own polearm, he swung his fist around and connected with the side of the surprised man’s face. The stranger lost his grip on the spear as he stumbled back and fell to the ground. Yanking the tip from his side, Travis impaled the black-clad warrior on his own weapon and then collapsed to the ground beside him.

A flash of lightning showed that there was no one else on the street and so the red-haired warrior drug himself over to the nearest building and pulled himself up to a kneeling position. Pulling a few medical supplies from a pouch at his belt, he made a makeshift poultice and applied it to his wound. The pain dulled a bit, enough so that he could stand without crying out in pain. Walking back over to the lifeless corpse, he stripped the man of his steel chainmail and heavy wool cloak. Grabbing one of the spears from the ground, the musician continued the trip he had started hours ago back to his room in the inn.

As he rounded a corner and saw his destination not too far away, his thoughts drifted to the two titans who had been battling in the rain. “What happened to them?” he found himself wondering aloud. With a silent prayer, he hoped the man who had helped him all through the night in battling the mysterious fighters was alright. He pushed open the door, ready to get to his warm room and out of the worst storm he’d ever seen.

Spoils:
Steel Chainmail stolen from one of the goons.
Seven foot Akashima redwood spear with six inch steel point on one end.

[Breaker]

Hours later, Joshua Cronen lay in a warm bed, staring at the mouldy wooden ceiling not far above. He barely remembered dragging himself along the sodden streets, searching for an inn with a vacant room. He had found one, finally, and gratefully climbed into the bed it afforded. But as he lay there, weary and trying to sleep, the memories returned to his conflicted mind. Not just his name and his history, but everything that had happened to him in the past few weeks. His capture by the ill-intending corporation, and the brutal interrogation he had suffered at their hands.

Above all else shone the memory of Genvieve Aneed, asking him to rescue her. That, and the cruel images of a balding doctor and wild haired witch. Jared Addison and Cyndine Cirward. With their names came the memory of the vow he had made to himself. Not only to free Genny from their clutches, but to avenge the pain they had put him through, and stop whatever it was they were doing on Althanas.

Although his mind raced, the exhaustion of Breaker's body won in the end. His eyelids became heavy and he fell into a deep sleep, comforted by the Colt beneath his pillow. Somehow the giant's weapon had stayed in his belt throughout the night. With only two live rounds left in the cylinder it wouldn't be much good for self defence in the street, but until he found more bullets, Josh knew exactly which skulls he wanted to see the Anaconda blow apart.

His dreams were plagued by the memory of the warehouse they had held him in, its torturous interior now filled with rainwater as the rain continued to rage. Josh hoped the dreams would not go away, not until he had found and killed his enemies. Once he managed to track them down, the storm he brought down on their heads would make the one he had just survived seem like a summer shower.


To be continued... (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=14028)


Spoils: Colt Anaconda revolver loaded with two .44 magnum soft-nosed bullets and four empty cartridge casings.

[Bloodrose]

Sorry for the delay, I meant to get to this earlier. So without further ado!

* STORY ~ 15

Continuity (5) ~ Having judged the prequel to this thread, it was easy for me to just pick up and run with this thread as a continuation of that story. I did find myself wondering if someone who hadn't read the previous thread would have any idea what was going on. There were a few hints here and there, but really nothing that definitely clues the reader in to previous events. Most of that comment goes to Numbers, so for Travis I'll say that you should try and give your character some reason aside from just walking along the streets to put your character into the thread. What was Travis doing before this? What's he going to do afterwards? He really just kind of "appeared" in the thread.

Setting (3) ~ I had a few issues here. The setting was set up nicely, and you guys had some nice descriptive moments, but the consistency and realism of the setting was overly lax. Throughout the thread the reader is constantly reminded of how terrible and powerful this storm is, and yet almost constantly both characters are picking out the tiniest of details against the rainy backdrop. Super/enhanced senses or not, no one is going to pick out individual footsteps or people breathing against the sound of innumerous lashing raindrops smashing off the ground and rooftops. There was also once early on where Travis described the moonlight on the water from the rain, but this begs the question: How is the moonlight shining through this terrible storm?

Overall I understood that the way you fellas played things was for the sake of the thread, but it seriously hurt the "believable" factor.

Pacing (7) ~ The story moved along nicely. Both of you did a good job advancing the central plot of the thread while keeping your characters separate. The one thing that hurt the pacing a little bit was a couple instances where I needed to re-read some of the action sequences to clear up what was going on. Overall there was nothing to really interrupt the flow of the read, and the story kept me involved in the thread throughout.

* CHARACTER ~ 19

Dialogue (6) ~ There wasn't a lot of dialogue here, and what was present was used more to advance the story than anything else. Not all dialogue has to be memorable, but it shouldn't just be passable either. By passable here I mean being able to just skip of the dialogue, internal and external, piecemeal and not be any worse off for it. What's said by your character to other people, and to themselves, should really display who they are and how they think. Here it was more functional than anything. Bonus though for using some dialogue to create ploys for the hunters - the one place that shined in this category.

Action (7) ~ The action here was pretty well done. Both of you stuck to your characters admirably, and it was nice to see Travis play the "Oops, time to run away" card instead of just standing and taking on several NPC's like I've seen some people do with their lower level characters. Conversely, Joshua was excellent as the powerful, well trained killing machine I've come to know him as.

Persona (6) ~ Joshua's cold, uncaring attitude throughout was fairly believable for his character - and that was highlighted here. What I was missing here was some sort of indication to what kind of character Travis is. There really wasn't any sense of fear, or anticipation, or caution on his part. While maybe not your intention here, Travis came off a little bit too impassive in his decision making. An example of what really would have helped Travis as a character for me here would have been a reason for Travis to keep tagging after these hunters. I had to ask myself why Travis didn't just pack up his things right at the start and head for the inn to stay out of trouble, and there wasn't any substantial explanation here as to why he didn't do just that.

* WRITING STYLE ~ 27

Mechanics (8) ~ Fairly solid here. Both of you seem to have a good grasp of what you're doing in the grammar and spelling department, and there were only a few hiccups here and there. The only problems I spotted were a misplaced word here and there - little things that slip past the best of us. If you don't do so already, try reading your posts to yourself (I find it works best if you actually read it out loud) to catch misplaced words and funny sounding sentences. It's easy to skim over them when you’re just double checking your work, but reading your posts out loud really helps to catch any misses.

Technique (6) ~ Some good, some tedious, nothing really bad. There were a couple almost identical uses of the phrase "dead as a drowned rat" that made it feel a little forced, but everything else was fine. Other than that you guys had some shining moments when describing the rain, but at the same time you spent more time describing the rain than anything else.

Clarity (7) ~ I had a couple issues following some of the action sequences, but nothing that really took me out of the moment.

* Wild Card (6) ~ A pretty good read. It was quick, concise, and a fairly fun little diversion. The only reason I didn't go higher hear led back to my problems with consistency that I outlined in my comments on Section. The super-senses vs. impenetrable background noise of a vicious thunderstorm play really kind of bothered me, so keep an eye on that kind of thing in the future.

TOTAL = 61!

016573 receives 2000 EXP and 0 GP. Also, while he miraculously managed to retain the revolver in the deluge of the river, the weapon did not survive completely. Upon trying to fire the weapon Joshua will find that the hammer is damage and broken, and the weapon will be unusable until he gets the firearm repaired. He might also want to clean the weapon, seeing as it got so much sand and gunk from the floodwaters in the barrel. The two bullets and the empty casing are intact as described.

A Nony Mouse receives 570 EXP and 250 GP. Turns out the spearmen were rather cheap, so the steel chainmail is of below average quality. The spear though, is well made and in good shape.

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!