Alexthymia: Travis v. Tom

[A Nony Mouse]

With a scroll clutched tightly in his hand, Travis Kiltias stepped through the portal and entered his arena. He practically shook with excitement; it was his first sanctioned battle as a Pagoda Warrior. He appeared in the familiar forest of his childhood, recreated with shocking precision by the Ai’Bron monks of the Pagoda to be his battlefield. Reeling slightly as the world settled in around him, he gazed around the Clearing for any signs of wild animals. It wouldn’t do well at all to be dismembered by a bear before his challenger even arrived. Content that everything was to his satisfaction, he strolled to the far edge of the large flat area and dropped down under a nearby tree. “Time to see who I’ll be fighting,” he mumbled as he unfurled the scroll.

The Ai’Bron monks had written whatever information they could and the Pagoda Warrior scanned the lettering for any pertinent information. “Known as Tom Carraway, 32 years of age, speaks only Tradespeak, left-handed.” Sighing, Travis looked up from the scroll. “So I won’t even understand him,” he mused. “Should make things interesting…”

He rolled the scroll back up and leaned against the burly trunk of the poplar behind him. Closing his eyes, he fished in a pouch at his belt for his hand-carved rywanwood ocarina. While he played whatever melodies came to his mind, he thought of the events of the recent days.

Entering the Pagoda had been a daunting feat. Many challengers walked the path to the revered hall, but few managed to secure a battle. Even those who managed to enter into a Hierarch’s arena rarely lasted very long at all. The Pagoda Warriors were a fierce lot; they didn’t take these battles lightly at all. His battle with Monica in her psychedelic arena had been an interesting experience to be sure. Even better was that although he lost, they had still offered him a place in the ranks of the Pagoda!

He stopped playing as he remembered the joy of that announcement. Even finding out that he was placed on probation hadn’t shaken his high spirits. He had met with the monks to craft his arena and then awaited the day that someone would challenge him. Now here he was, about to fight Tom Carraway to prove himself and end his probation. Victory here would allow him to advance further into the ranks of the Pagoda.

Maybe even to Grandmaster, he contemplated, his eyes snapping open in excitement. Teric Bloodrose had risen quickly to the top of the Pagoda and Travis dreamed of one day facing the legend. “Focus,” he muttered quietly. “Tom first, Teric later.” Closing his eyes once again, he resumed the sweet melodies that would lead his first challenger to the clearing. All that was left to do was wait.

[Ignition]

There was music. Ocarina music if he wasn’t mistaken. Under different circumstances, it might have made Tom smile, but the former guest in Radasanth’s finest prisons had a mixed record with music. During his childhood, music had meant to him the same thing it meant to most people- callow entertainment. It was only in prison where it had taken on a second, more sinister meaning. Music was what people played when they didn’t want the guards to hear what they were doing.

Now, the music made Tom wonder what his opponent was hiding. He hadn’t spent enough time in Raiaera to know whether or not the ocarina was playing song magic, but he was certain that there had to be some kind of strategy involved. No one worthy of the Dajas Pagoda would prepare for a battle by playing music for its own sake. A more naïve or idealistic kid might have guessed that the music was as benign as a mere calming influence for a jittery fighter, but Tom knew better than to expect a Pagoda warrior to be that weak. Every action in the world had a purpose, and when he couldn’t divine that purpose, Tom naturally assumed it was conspiratorial.

Tom supposed that his opponent, a man who he had known only as Travis Kiltias, had similar misgivings about him. The Pagoda was traditionally a place for young men and women to go and train themselves and the main exceptions were the country farm hands naïve enough to believe that keeping pests out of their crops and digging ditches somehow would train them for a battle. While Tom’s motives might have been unique, they were hardly conspiratorial. He had spent a long time in prison, and he wondered what he had left in the tank. Before getting locked away, Tom knew that his skills were far below legendary, but he knew he could handle himself in the day to day. Now, he doubted himself. Tom hoped that the Pagoda might remove that doubt.

As the one time convict made his way towards the clearing, he tried hard not to smirk. There was just something so familiar about the battlefield, between the forests and the faint sound of a river. It was calming, especially since the sound of the river meant there were no large animals around lurking to prey on battle wounded fighters. However, more than anything else, Tom couldn’t help but feel that the forest reminded him of the battlefields in legendary stories.

“A clearing in the forest, one fighter waiting, a second arriving up the path,” Tom thought, being somewhat sarcasti. “All we need now is a blonde bimbo to go to the winner and someone to pick good and evil and we’ve got ourselves a fairy tale…”

Despite his sarcasm, Tom enjoyed the field. It was a classic. Just like him.

Now, as Tom entered the clearing, he got his first glance at Travis. He smiled, almost embarrassedly, like a boy asking a girl out to her first date. This was going to be his first fight in more than three years, and he knew that he had to make it count. His confidence and will were on the line.

With a skittishness that was unbecoming, Tom moved his rapier into a ready position. He was glad that he’d unsheathed it before the battle would begin. His prosthesis might have not been of the greatest quality, but it was enough to get by with. Only a real veteran warrior would have known that he lacked a thumb just by looking at it, and Tom knew that important information like his handicap needed to be concealed for as long as possible. In fact, he regretted that he had been compelled to mention his hand preference to the Pagoda monks before entering the battle. That was information that should have been revealed over the course of the fight.

Secretly, Tom’s right hand inched for the hand crossbow kept in a sheath at his waist. If everything went to plan, one shot would be all it took, but that shot was going to have to wait for a while. The rapier was going to be his means of distraction. If Travis knew of his hand preference, Tom intended to distract his opponent with that information for as long as he could.

After what seemed like an eternity but was in truth little more than a few seconds, Tom smirked and said just one word, “ready.” There had been enough information revealed already.

[A Nony Mouse]

He was one with the woods; he knew all that happened under her leafy embrace. Nothing escaped him. As Travis sat beneath the outstretched branches of the poplar tree, he let his mind sink into a familiar communion with the forest. His challenger was near. The air in his lungs died out as he let the lilting notes of the ocarina fade into the gentle breeze of the afternoon. Tom Carraway stood across the clearing, a smile on his face and a rapier in his hand.

The ocarina vanished back from whence it came and the Pagoda Warrior’s spear was in his hands in its place. Using the butt of the weapon, Travis hauled himself easily to his feet to face his opponent across the plain. The Akashima redwood shaft was comfortable in his callused hands; as if the weapon were merely an extension of his arm. His eyes narrowed as he sized up his opponent. The man seemed almost as comfortable with his own weapon, but something was off.

Such trivial matters were not of concern to Travis as he heard the man utter a single word. His body weight shifted, his feet started forward; the Warrior’s muscles tensed as he realized the battle had begun. The soft breeze rustled the leaves of the variety of trees around the two combatants; the picturesque scene marred by the advent of battle.

Resolving not to let his adversary dictate the course of the battle, Travis charged forward to meet the man. His leather boots thumped softly on the dirt, their sound muffled intermittently by brave clumps of grass poking through the brown. The steel links of his chainmail shirt clinked together noisily, marking his progress across the clearing with their steady rhythm. As he closed in on Tom Carraway, he readied an attack.

With a mighty heave he launched himself from the earth and soared toward his foe, spear raised high above his red locks. At the apex of his jump, Travis thrust the butt of the spear straight toward the center of the man’s chest. Time to see what you’re made of.

I tried to give a description of his armor, but I know I missed some stuff. He's wearing his leather boots, no greaves, steel chainmail, damascus bracers, and no helmet.

[Ignition]

Tom almost wanted to laugh. He thought of all the time he had spent building up this battle in his head, only to see the foolhardy, over excited way with which Travis leaped at him. “Is this what passes for a champion today?” he thought scornfully, knowing just how easy it would have been to quickly pirouette and stab Travis in the back before the ocarina player’s feet would have hit the ground.

It would have been so easy, that it would have proved nothing.

Knowing that, Tom realized what he had to do. He was going to deflect the blow, and then step away, giving his opponent the chance to recover. He already knew he was smarter than a kid. Living to thirty two, given his ties to organized crime, was evidence enough of that. Tom needed to know he was tougher.

“I’m going to hate myself for this, but what the hell…” he regretted. With a blow that showed more disgust than dexterity, Tom knocked the butt away from his chest and took a few steps away, giving Travis the opportunity to land safely. The rapier shook a bit with contact, Tom’s inability to grip the weapon properly conspired to make a blow that should have been a solid deflection rattle a bit with impact.

“Try something smart next time,” Tom scoffed, wanting to make it very clear that Travis was allowed only one move that stupid. Tom’s ethics would have prevented him from giving Travis anything more than a second chance.

“The kids that pass for warriors these days,” Tom thought. “There were at least ten fishermen in Nisalath with more sense than that killed by sea monsters every year. This world is getting far too kind on the people of Radasanth.”

[A Nony Mouse]

Travis had been in enough battles to know that the way an opponent fought said a lot about the type of man he was. So the Warrior realized that Tom Carraway was much more than he seemed. More than a common brute, that is, he mused. The red-haired adventurer had expected more of a ruffian, not the merciful man who stood before him.

His leap had been more of a test than a full-out attack; Travis had meant to gauge his enemy’s swordsmanship. While he had gotten an inkling about the man’s skill with his rapier, the way he had batted the spear shaft aside and stepped back spoke volumes more about his character.

Travis landed deftly on his feet, his momentum forcing him into a crouch with his spear held off to the side in one hand. His head snapped up first, hazel eyes locking on his opponent. A smile crept onto his face as Tom spat out foreign words heavily laced with disgust. Nothing lost in translation here, Travis grimaced. Clearly the older man expected more from his adversary.

Now that Travis had a better idea about his foe, he reassessed his battle strategies in the instant that it took his to rise to his feet. The spear’s steel tip drug slowly across the ground, carving a line in the dirt as the redhead brought it up to his right hand. His palm made a loud smack as it hit the wood, his fingers gripping the shaft tightly as he readied another attack.

“Don’t underestimate me,” he warned, though he doubted the man understood him. Hopefully, his voice would convey a tone of warning, regardless of the language. It was the least he could do.

Closing the distance between them in three quick steps, he planted his foot and swung the spear’s butt toward Tom’s left kneecap. If it connected, the force wouldn’t break it, but the larger man would surely stumble. Travis dearly hoped that Tom Carraway was ready for a true Pagoda battle.

[Ignition]

Under a different circumstance, Tom might have known the best response to Travis’ attack. However, either intentionally or not, the bard had managed to catch the older man unawares. Tom had been trying to manage what he could from the man’s particular language, and almost expected Travis to be the type that after offering a first blow, would wait for his opponent to respond.

Still, Tom had his instincts. Sharp reflexes were almost a necessity to surviving in prison, because there, surprise attacks were always the most common. Especially for Tom, considering the crime he’d been locked away for.

With the smile on his face fading into a grim, intent line, Tom managed to bring his rapier into position not to deflect, but to counter the blow. Tom knew he was going to have to grip tightly, the opening blow had shown that Travis was powerful enough to knock Tom’s rapier away if the older man wasn’t careful.

The butt of the spear collided against the broad edge of the rapier, blocking its trajectory. Tom grunted a little as the impact of the collision reverberated up into his four still working fingers, and he quickly reached for his crossbow with the other hand. Again, it may have not been the smartest move, but it was the quickest. With time conspiring against his better decision making, Tom knew that he could ill afford to get caught in a test of strength. The lack of balance in his grip would soon betray him if he tried that.

With his free hand, Tom reached and pulled out his crossbow. He didn’t fire, he couldn’t afford to. Without a thumb, there would be no way to reload the weapon after the first bolt were fired. Given that his swordsmanship lacked the dexterity it once had, Tom knew that he couldn’t afford to shoot and miss. With Travis’ chainmail and the distance between them, it was unlikely that Tom could get a crippling shot off from such a close range.

Instead, Tom was just trying to buy himself time and distance. He just wanted Travis to flinch. If that happened, the pressure on his rapier would be released, and Tom hoped that he might even have a chance of deposing Travis of his spear. If not, then it would be up to Tom to continue to think fast.

He was beginning to regret not taking the advantage when it had been offered.

(If you do flinch, feel free to bunny Tom trying to disarm Travis)

[A Nony Mouse]

The larger man blocked and whipped out a crossbow, giving Travis quite a start. Who brings a crossbow to the Pagoda? He immediately let go of his spear with one hand, bringing it up to cover his face; though little good that would do against a quarrel fired from such close range. But his fears were unwarranted; no bolt lanced into his flesh. Instead, Tom lashed out with his rapier.

The thin blade danced around the point of the spear, flicking inside Travis’ defenses and angling toward his wrist. By the time he uncovered his face, there were mere inches between the sword and his tendons. Muttering curses under his breath, the Warrior did the only thing he could think of; he lunged forward.

The steel rapier glanced off the Damascus bracer farther up his arm, doing no damage but making quite a noise. Whirling the Akashima shaft into his other hand, Travis continued his lunge, thrusting for Tom’s hip as his feet found purchase on the slightly uneven ground. His eyes remained locked on the crossbow however; the loaded bolt filling him with dread even as his spear closed in on its target.

“By the Goddess,” he muttered louder than he realized, “I hope he drops it.” Although the chances of that were slim, Travis prayed fiercely. What chance did he have against a ranged weapon? His next battle would have to account for that…

[Ignition]

Tom knew to move even before Travis attacked. There was only one smart move to make, and the older man thought enough of Travis now to think he would make it. Now unsure if Travis’ opening leap had been part of a more clever strategy, Tom thought it best to assume the best of his opponent. He hated to think that way, the two men were almost even in all basic physical comparisons, and Travis was far better armed. Tom had no magic that would aid him, and he feared that Travis possessed those kinds of skills.

By the time the spear would have reached Tom’s midsection, the former prisoner had already spun out of the way. He moved carefully, keeping his rapier in front of his body to thwart another attack. His crossbow remained ready in his right hand, and nervous impatience danced on the veteran’s trigger finger, begging him to just press down and end the fight. Tom wanted to, but he couldn’t. A lucky shot might land in the eye, but given the chainmail, there were no other sensitive points for him to hit.

With a patience and discipline that had emerged in organized crime, Tom attempted to land a large kick on the small of his opponent’s back. It was the one thing about chainmail that worked to his advantage, unlike plate metal, it at least had some give. Tom knew that outside of a lucky rapier to the throat, the chances of which he couldn’t count on, the only thing he could do was beat Travis into oblivion.

“Either he slows down then from soreness, or he just gives up,” Tom realized. If he was particularly lucky, a well placed kick might knock Travis off his feet just long enough for Tom to finish him off with a well placed blow from the rapier, or even a well timed shot.

Tom knew that this strategy would ask a great deal of him. If he were going to be successful, he would need to have more agility, greater stamina and much more patience than the younger man. Tom was certain he had the patience, but the other two categories were rarely the advantages of a thirty year old man. Yet, Tom had no choice but to hope they were on his side now, because he didn’t really see as if he had any other choice.

As the kick sailed through the air, another alternative occurred to Tom. If necessary, he could run into the forest. He knew he was fast, and knew that if he wasn’t fast enough to outrun Travis, there was hardly any hope form him in the larger world. If he ran away, forcing Travis to pursue, he might compel the younger man to drop the chainmail in hopes of catching him.

Still before he got ahead of himself, Tom needed to know whether or not his kick landed. He was old enough to know that thoughts were only as good as they were put into action.

[A Nony Mouse]

Thwarted again, Travis saw Tom maneuvering into a better position. By sneaking behind the Warrior, the older man clearly hoped to gain the upper hand. Even if Tom moved half as fast as the red-haired adventurer, Travis had little hope of blocking an attack. He needed another option.

Realizing that the arena before him was empty and clear, he formulated a quick plan. He would either be amazingly successful or open himself up for a battle-ending shot; he had to try though.

Planting the point of his spear in a nearby clump of grass, he felt resistance as the steel tip sank into the dirt. Thrusting away from the ground with all the strength his legs could muster, Travis launched up and over his stationary spear and into the air. Tom’s foot connected with the back of his thigh, sending him at a bit of an angle, but he was largely free and clear. Up into the air he went until his body was almost horizontal atop the seven foot spear. Then his weight shifted and he began coming down.

Tucking his chin against his chest, the redhead hit the ground in a roll and felt the spear slip out of his hands. He kept his momentum going though, away from Tom and out into the center of the clearing once again. When he leapt to his feet and spun around, Travis saw his weapon lying a few feet off to the right. If Tom took any time to gawk at his opponent’s display of acrobatics, the Warrior could retrieve his spear before he needed to defend himself. However, if the move left Tom unfazed, Travis would be largely defenseless. His muscles tensed in anticipation; either way he needed to move.

[Ignition]

Tom was impressed. Travis was more athletic than he’d given him credit for. As the older man watched Travis’ aerial display, he was uncertain if there was an offensive move coming at the end, or whether the goal was solely to impress. “Guess agility is working with him too…” Tom realized ruefully.

As Travis moved through the air with the breathlessness of youth, Tom could feel a lump growing in his throat. He had been found wanting. This battle was more heartbreaking for him than it would be for any other competitor. The kids who normally frequented the Dajas Pagoda had potential, they had their whole lives in front of them. All Tom had to look forward to was his body slowly giving out on him, one joint at a time.

“If I can’t do it now, I’ll never be able to do it,” Tom thought ruefully. The thought depressed him, but yet it made him tougher. The one advantage he still had, the one place where he still might be able to hope for some growth, was in his mental toughness. A kid might have been too impressed with Travis to consider his angle, but not Tom. Tom knew exactly what he was going to do.

Though he doubted that Travis had realized it, Tom had been presented with just the opportunity he needed. Twenty years of age or not, Tom knew that a move that impressive was bound to tire even the most spry warriors. With his finger itching on the trigger with an anxiety only somewhat dulled by experience, Tom took a few steps back, watching eagerly as Travis landed.

The moment that Travis’ feet hit the ground, Tom didn’t hesistate. He pressed the trigger. It was his one shot, the only shot he could really hope to get. The faintest hint of a wry smile on the edges of Tom’s mouth indicated that he could sense the uncaring cruelty of age, it was only a matter of minutes when Tom was scornfully telling his young opponent to think. Now, Tom’s entire image of himself, his belief in his capabilities, and the direction for his future, it all lay in whether or not a crossbow bolt could fly true.

None of these thoughts surfaced as Tom looked on. He was frightened of the future, but too frightened to be able to turn away as his bolt ripped definitively towards Travis. The only consolation for Tom was that within seconds, he would know his place in the universe. However, he had left Istraloth to find something better than an average life. Even if the bolt ended up missing, Tom knew he couldn't accept that destiny like a lover.

[A Nony Mouse]

In his hurry to avoid being hit, Travis Kiltias had opened the largest window of opportunity for his opponent. The man was no fool; he took this second chance as soon as it was offered to him. The red-haired adventurer realized his folly as soon as his eyes locked onto the burning orbs of his adversary. He saw the trigger pull back and watched as the bolt tore through the air toward him. Time slowed to a crawl as the young Warrior’s senses took in everything, searching desperately for any chance of escape.

Sweat beaded his brow, mingling with the dust he had churned up in his tumbling to create a layer of grime. His eyes darted across the clearing, hoping against all reason that some supernatural event would snatch the quarrel from its path of death. His mouth felt dry, his tongue too large as it slid over his teeth. Watching helpless as a single projectile flew through the air to end his life filled him with an understandable dread. It was too close to dodge and he had no weapon with which to block; his options had run out.

As the world kicked back into full speed once again, Travis dodged to the side as fast as his burning muscles would let him. However, the bolt was faster. It struck him in the throat, knicking his jugular, and buried itself up to the fletching. Travis’ breath gurgled as he gasped from the impact, but he felt no pain. Just a flash of white…

Suddenly he was on the ground, falling on his side as his hands rushed to his throat. The pain washed over him, tossing his mind about like driftwood in a storm. His scream broke the tranquility of the forest, its sound mangled slightly by the bolt lodged near his vocal chords. He couldn’t focus on anything; he couldn’t even think straight. His hand smacked against the ground, abruptly stopping his fall and sending bright red stars spiraling across his vision. The agony of his scream faded, reduced to a mere echo bouncing across the treetops. Tom’s booted feet faded from view as his eyes closed from the pain. Oh, the pain.

As his mind numbed to the agony, he stubbornly tried to push himself up off the ground. But even though he thought about the action, his arms refused to bend to his will. So this is what it feels like, he realized. To die. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, his breathing deepened as his eyes closed. Blood continued to pump from the jagged wound, marking the only difference between the beginning of the battle and its end. Travis’ face seemed as serene as it had when he had been sitting under the poplar tree playing music. He was at peace.

I do want one more concluding post after this, if you don't mind.

[Ignition]

The bolt flew true enough. Under different circumstances, Tom would have thought to call in the monks to attend to Travis, or at the very least finished off the man so as to put him out of his misery, but at that moment, Tom was in awe of his luck. Now, with the pressure of the battle beginning to evaporate from him, he could remember the way that he’d thought and felt when he’d first fired the bolt. Fear had been the overriding emotion, but latent anxiety had brimmed under the surface.

Now, Tom realized that he had shot prematurely. Given the way that Travis had landed, it would have made much more sense for him to have attacked the man with his rapier. Both attacks would have had roughly the same probability of success, but the rapier would have left him with more alternatives had he failed.

Better sense had failed Tom because he was too eager to be measured. The older man had thought that he could have controlled his emotions. When Tom compared age tempered wisdom to both his own impulsiveness at twenty and the behavior of the younger prisoners, he may have fooled himself into believing that he was calm and rational, but now he knew that he wasn’t as wise as he hoped he would be.

Tom felt both empowered and humbled. He stammered for a reaction, his mind was blank and his body was all but turned to mush. The entire forest seemed to go silent. The river no longer rippled, the sounds of bears and other wild creatures no longer echoed off in the distance. There were absolutely no stimuli that Tom could process, his eyes were glued on the fallen Travis.

Once the shock of his victory has faded, Tom realized that his victory begged an entirely different question now. Now that age had shown him some mercy, Tom didn’t know where to take his life. An adventurer’s path was far too rough for his age, Tom hardly fancied himself a Knight and he knew with certainty that he no longer wanted any ties with the mob. Still, Travis’ fallen body told Tom that he had been right all along, he was meant for something more than the mundane existence that Istraloth had promised him.

Tom sighed, he may have had his answer, but that only begat another question.

Sound and vision were beginning to return. The sun was still shining brightly, and the sounds of the forest were growing louder, almost as if to tell Tom that his time in the arena was now over and that he best be leaving. He smiled, gingerly and as if his face was just emerging from a month long thaw, but he smiled none the less.

The world hadn’t given up on Tom Carraway, and Tom now knew this with certainty. For better or worse, Lady Luck was finally changing her opinion of him. Though he wouldn’t admit it to another living soul, he had been aiming for Travis’ eye, not his throat.

[A Nony Mouse]

The familiar rustle of brown robes was the first thing Travis heard as he came out from his temporary death. It was still strange to think of dying as an ephemeral change, but he was more grateful than ever for the Ai’Bron magic. Although his death had been reversed, the pain experienced in the moments before was still very real. Touching a hand to his throat where the bolt had pierced, he shuddered at the memory. He might never get used to the Pagoda.

Exiting the small stone room, he came into a hallway where his opponent waited. Taken a bit by surprise, Travis greeted Tom in a friendly manner, “Hell of a battle in there.” He offered his hand to show that there were no hard feelings; Tom had fought valiantly. Maybe even well enough to take my place, he added as an afterthought. Smiling warmly at the man who was a decade his senior, he motioned back to the room he had just left, “Quite the experience to wake up from death.”

The men chuckled and wandered down the hall, talking about the battle, the Pagoda, and the Ai’Bron monks to pass the time until their judgment. An observer would never be able to tell that one had just killed the other. Thus was the way of the Pagoda.

All bunnying approved

[Breaker]

Alexthymia
Battle Judgement

Moderate commentary as requested. If either of you have any questions, feel free to catch me on AIM. A Nony Mouse's scores are in red, Ignitions's are in blue.

STORY

Continuity ~ 4 ~ 6
Throughout the entire battle, I wondered why Travis had gone to the Pagoda initially, why he became a warrior, why why why, etc times infinity. You did an okay job of providing a little history on Travis, but you really need to do more in this area.
Tom certainly had a stronger reason for his presence in the thread, and the ending tied up well with the beginning for him, but I felt like those reasons got lost a little partway through.

Setting ~ 5 ~ 2
Nony, you managed to keep the setting in mind most of the time, but your descriptions weren't spectacular. You also used the setting a few times, which helped your score, but in order to get much higher you'll need to incorporate Travis' surroundings more often, and flesh out the descriptions more.
Ignition, you pretty much ignored the setting except in your first and last post. Even then, I didn't see anything very impressive from you. I actually chuckled to myself when I read "The entire forest seemed to go silent." because it was your first mention of the forest noises since your first post. At this point, the only real constructive criticism I can give you is... pay attention to the setting.

Pacing ~ 5 ~ 5
The plot developed, I suppose, but not in any special direction. It was easy enough to follow though, so you both get average scores.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 3 ~ 3
Frankly, the best dialogue posts were the ones that didn't have any dialogue. Everything your characters thought and said seemed like something I've read a thousand times before. To make your dialogue more original, think about how your character's persona and past might influence their speech. To make it more effective, try to have it add something to the writing, because most of the dialogue could be removed from this thread without detracting much from the overall level of writing.

Action ~ 5.5 ~ 4
Nony, you need to do more with your action. For example, your first two attack were entirely non-lethal-- using the butt of the spear rather than the point. If you had justified this in some way, it would have added to your action score. Since you didn't, it just kind of confused me as to why a Pagoda warrior wasn't trying his hardest to win.
Ignition, I found that Tom's actions did not reflect his persona. The way he reacted to Travis' initial attack (which was basically a bum rush) did not ring true for someone who has apparently spent a lot of time in prison. Also, it's not clear to me what he proved to himself by shooting Travis. You talked about how he was trying to prove himself to himself, but he acted more smug than anything else, and didn't appear to truly care about the outcome of the battle until the very end.

Persona ~ 3.5 ~ 5.5
Nony, your character barely seems to have a personality. I suppose I could have found a way to sugarcoat that, but I know I've given you this note before, and so have other judges. You really need to work on this area, because not only are you scoring low here, your lack of persona effects other areas in the rubric as well.
Ignition, at times you had a very strong character, but it evaporated at times, and as I mentioned in Action, some of Tom's thoughts and actions seemed to directly conflict each other. Work on solidifying Tom's drive and you will start scoring much higher in this category.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 3 ~ 4
I spotted a few turns of phrase, but none of them were particularly original or interesting. You both need to work a lot on your use of literary devices. When you're writing, try actively thinking about where you could use different kinds of metaphor. It may seem a bit odd at first, but once your skill develops it'll flow naturally as the blood in your veins. Using literary devices can honestly bring up your score in a lot of other categories, such as setting, because good metaphors will really bring the surroundings to life.

Mechanics ~ 8 ~ 8
Well done with this, I was happy to see an entire thread with very few errors. Both of you tend to use awkward sentences sometimes. Particularly in action sequences, try to avoid using passive voice, as well as thickeners and phony intensifiers. If either of you are interested in learning a little more about how to do this, contact me via IM/PM and I'll pull together a few examples from this thread.

Clarity ~ 6 ~ 5
Both of you tend to have your characters "think" too much. For a twelve post battle, you both did an awful lot of planning. These long, useless "planning" sequences really bogged down some of the best action. If your character is planning his next attack while he does one, that's okay, but I don't want to read through six paragraphs just to see your character attempt a kick.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 5 ~ 5
I don't generally give anyone an advantage via Wild Card in battles unless something really impressed me, so you each get a five here.

TOTAL ~ 48 ~ 47.5
Whoa, that was a close one. I double checked my calculations just to be sure :p

EXP and GP Rewards

A Nony Mouse receives 1000 EXP and 650 GP
Ignition receives 350 EXP and 200 GP

Other Rewards

Travis receives the crossbow bolt that killed him as a souvenir.
Tom receives 5 new steel and oak bolts as a prize from a monk.

[Zook Murnig]

EXP/GP ADDED!