Commencement of Learning ((Closed - Solo Quest))

[Lord Saladin]

Scara Brae. At last, the city famed for being the place where adventures began and friendships were forged came into view as Rardaag Dewwit stood at the edge of the barge from Corone with a mild anticipation.

Years spent at the various schools of the Istien University, lost within the realms of a secluded academia of ancient and modern texts, had provided Rardaag with all the knowledge and understanding he had thus far acquired. A vast amount, indeed, but the elf had been raised in such a fashion that an insatiable hunger for knowledge left him yearning for more. The various histories and articles within the libraries of Istien's academies had been fully exhausted; no further knowledge could possibly be gained from them. Which had bought him here. To Scara Brae. Logic inferred to Rardaag that, should he want to learn more than he already had, he must step away from texts and diagrams, and gain knowledge from experience.

This place, seeming to grow upon the horizon, was as good as any to begin Rardaag's quest for further knowledge.

Gazing forth to the harbour, Rardaag allowed a deep inhalation of sea air to fill his lungs. The freshness, the cool cleanliness passing his throat, was exhilarating and as he exhaled with satisfaction a smile adorned his face with genuine glee at the sensation itself. It was rare to see the scholar give such an exuberant expression of emotion but such was his enjoyment of the sea and its air.

The gentle crashing of waves upon the water's surface carried an arrhythmic charm that, to the ears of Rardaag, was much akin to music. Despite not having a Bard's ability, beyond very basic healing, the elf very much was driven to break into song because of his adoration of so tranquil a sound. However, he refrained; it was not the most pertinent place to break into song, when stood at the end of a rather full barge of people not all travelling for simple learning, but on business and things that held no interest for our turquoise haired elf. Regardless, restraint was likely most prudent - he had no desire to be pushed off the vessel before reaching shore.

The barge was a simple vessel, some thirty feet long and ten feet in width. Rardaag doubted that any saw below the open deck, given the number of oars, pushing the barge towards its destination, protruding from both sides of the vessel, creating a nice foamy froth around the boat and its trail. Of course, had access been given to the lower levels, there would surely not be quite so many men, women and children all packed in with barely room to move filling the rear twenty feet of the barge.

Rardaag, willing to pay a little extra coin, had been given position on a dais that covered the first ten feet of the ship, where the captain and a few others stood with a rather smug expression upon their faces. Had he not been engrossed in the gentle crashing of waves and diamond-like sparkles of spray being lit by the mid-afternoon sun, Rardaag may well have stepped off the dais, into the crowds, just to experience such a situation. Perhaps on his departure, he would stand with those less fortunate, but for now, his enjoyment of the ocean was a little too much to contain. Not breaking into full song, Rardaag did begin to hum gently; a tranquil melody, soothing and calm, grasping a tone of pleasure and innocence. The captain of the barge and the others on the dais all looked at the grey clad elf, mixed expressions on their faces - surprise, distaste, joy, curiosity - and one or two began to tap fingers against railing or leg or arm, in time to the quiet tune. Rardaag, though, was far too engrossed in his admiration of the beauty of nature to notice anyone or anything else.

[Lord Saladin]

That was until a shriek was heard from the approaching shore, and a small speck of black against the azure canvas of sky began to grow slowly, as both it and the barge drew closer. The sound broke Rardaag's reverie, and as he looked up to the sky, he smiled, and raised his arm, slender and yet strong, into the sky. A shrill whistle trilled through pursed lips and a moment later the falcon was perched upon the wrist of Rardaag. A few seconds were spent stroking the feathers of the bird, then a hand went to a small pouch at his waist, from which was pulled a small piece of dried meat. "Not fresh, I'm afraid Eleanor, but here you go," gently spoke the elf as he brought the meat to the beak of the falcon, who quickly snapped it up.

Rardaag's voice was serene, much like his demeanour, and held to it a musical quality typical of elves. Perhaps it was the serenity of his voice or the quiet confidence that was held within, but speaking to the bird seemed to break the invisible barrier that had prevented any of those on the dais interacting with the elf. It was a young human girl, perhaps nine or ten years old, blond curls bouncing as she jovially skipped from the other side of the barge towards the elf. Stopping a couple of feet away from him, hands were clasped behind her, gripping loosely to the silk of her her light green dress, "'Scuse me, mista', but wha's tha'?" Kneeling down to level himself with the girl, Rardaag smiled with enthusiasm, more than happy to answer the girl's shy enquiry.

"This is Eleanor, little one. She's a falcon, a friend of mine," his tone was again friendly, and the little girl seemed to relax, her hands moving to her sides. Moving the bird closer to the girl, Rardaag ruffled her shoulder length curls with his free hand in the sign of friendliness he had seen human adults express to children before, "You can stroke her if you want to. She won't bite you."

"Really, mista'?! Wow! I've nev'r touched a bird afore." The yelping excitement of the child caused Rardaag to laugh wholeheartedly as the girl nervously moved her hand towards Eleanor with slow, broken advances. The bird, sensing the nervousness of the girl, shifted a little, and the child's hand stopped as she looked up questioningly at the elf, momentarily wondering if the animal was as safe as he said it was. Rardaag just nodded with a reassuring smile. The girl grinned and finally found the courage to touch Eleanor, stroking her feathers for only a moment before moving her hand back and regaining her nervous posture. "Sh-she's beau'iful, mista'. And so soft!"

"Pardon my daughter, good sir. She is young and curious, she means no offence or bother to you." Rardaag rose as the human man placed a hand on the shoulder of the girl. A well built fellow with perhaps a few more pounds of extra flesh than he had in his prime. He spoke politely enough and seemed respectful, and his hand was a gentle one atop the girl's shoulder; a friendly man and good father, Rardaag surmised.

"Nay, good friend, no offence. And it is certainly no bother to satiate the curiosity of youth, I was once like that. A beautiful daughter you have, though." Rardaag was sure the final was an acceptable statement when speaking with a human for the first time and hoped that he did not offend or unbalance the chap. "Ah, well, it looks like we're about to dock. I must arrange my belongings. Do excuse me sir." He nodded to the fellow, "Little miss." A repeated ruffling of her hair was replied with a quaint little giggle. Rardaag smiled as he moved to grab his belongings ready for alighting.

[Lord Saladin]

Raising his arm in a smooth, swift motion, Eleanor left her perch and flew off into the air; likely she would be hunting for some food other than dried meat. Grabbing his satchel, fastening his belt and quiver about a slender waist, the elf utilised his unstrung bow as a walking stick and waited for the barge to finally stop before nimbly jumping onto the pier.

The crowds of people from the barge and other ships, all heading towards the city of Scara Brae, acted like a raging river, leading any who was caught in its currents closer to the city, which seemed to be bustling at this time of day. Or, rather, what Rardaag could see of it, he could make no real estimation of the congestion further inside the city. Having no immediate plans or goals the elf moved with the flow of people and silently wondered where the torrent would lead him.

Thankfully, the rushing torrent of people quickly dispersed, leaving Rardaag now in a street only quietly busy. Not quite sure where he was in relationship to the docks, he still had no real plans or goals. Severals inns and taverns had been passed whilst in the almost wild throng of bodies, but the pace of the crowds was too much for any real observations in terms of names or suitability. Taking a moment to orientate himself once more, the elf made mental note that books were much easier than cities but did not allow his pleasant mood to be compromised.

Finally, he would be able to experience the real world: the people, the scenery, the wonders, and most importantly, the knowledge. There was such an abundance of knowledge for him to absorb that he wondered if elven years would suffice. People, mostly humans, passed by him as he once more dropped into a reverie of gentle contemplation, but he did not notice them going about their daily routines. At least he was not being obtrusive, and whilst he considered that which was ahead of him, Rardaag leaned against the wall of a tailors' shop, just inside a small alley betwixt the Tailor and, judging by the shouts of a middle aged human voice, a general hawker's shop. Whilst he felt wonder at the opportunities ahead of him, the elf was also aware that he would need to arrange accommodation, possibly for an extended period; he planned on spending some considerable time in Scara Brae, to not only plan his subsequent journey, but also to begin his quest of learning. So, by spending time here, two proverbial birds would be killed with a single, just as proverbial, stone.

Breaking from his contemplation, Rardaag looked around the current area with keen azure eyes. The city of Scara Brae, he noticed for the first time, was a very friendly place. The streets were filled with an air of helpfulness and acceptance, shop keepers spoke to customers with a genuine concern and honest expression, strangers approached locals who readily gave information and guidance. Strangers laughed with other strangers as they realised both parties were lost, but wanting to reach the same destination. A smile began to crease the face of Rardaag as he observed this for just a few minutes; he had heard of the friendliness of Scara Brae but did not fathom such a thing would be so near to tangibility. He surmised that the time spent here would be enjoyable.

[Lord Saladin]

So, first things first, he knew that lodgings would need to be found, and the easiest way would be to visit one of the many inns at the docks; which would have to wait until later, lest Rardaag find himself lost inside the raging flows of those leaving and entering the city by boat. Once the sun falls, the docks should become less busy, surmised the Elven fellow. Which meant nearly half a day to spend searching for a few places he had wanted to see for some time.

A decision reached about accommodation, Rardaag was now free to go about the more interesting activities he had planned. He moved from the alleyway, back into the wide avenue, looking both ways, he noted a group of the City Guard, they were likely either on patrols or dealing with some miscreant or other; they weren't of any real interest, all truth considered. Rounding the corner, the elf opened the door to the tailor's shop, hoping the friendliness extended inside as well as it was displayed in the streets.

Rows upon rows of draped material, silks, cottons, more expensive materials, of all hues, qualities and widths lined the rather spacious shop, and as the main counter was approached, the end of the bow acted as a counter-beat to the near silent footsteps of Rardaag as it struck the well swept wooden floor. The counter was long, maybe stretching six feet to the right, two feet wide, and in the open space at the right, three mannequins were wrapped in silk of vibrant hues, a contrasting embroidery along the hems, as though in emulation of the elven crafting of his own attire. Leaning the longbow against the counter, the elf placed his satchel on the floor and picked up the small brass hammer left on the counter. Striking the hammer three times on the bell beside it, Rardaag waited for the tailor to emerge from the workshop in the back. Several minutes passed and Rardaag did not want to be rude, so merely waited. As time went on, he began to walk up and down the many racks of neatly folded, uncreased fabric. Stopping occasionally, the elf would pinch at a corner of fabric, rubbing thumb and forefinger together to get a feel for the quality of the goods. Each stretch of fabric seemed of exquisite craftsmanship and each time the elf stopped and pinched, he gave an approving nod and carried on.

Perhaps the tenth stretch he stopped at, Rardaag did more than simply pinch. The material seemed alike silk, but of smoother making, and along one edge for maybe a third of the stretch's width, a most intricate pattern was embroidered in golden thread on the backdrop of black. Eyebrows raising, Rardaag lifted the material, allowing the light from the shop window to pass through. "Wow!" Exclaimed the scholar, noticing not a single stitch out of place. A truly magnificent piece of work, one of the best he had ever seen, even rivalling his own garb.

[Lord Saladin]

"Impressive, eh? All the way from Raiaera, though cost me a fair penny, ma lad. So, no cheap garment from this, I'm afraid." The voice was surprisingly motherly - soft, comforting, yet holding a power of one who decided on whether you ate supper or not. Rardaag turned to face a plump, greying human woman whose head only reached to his chest. It was quite possible that she was as wide as she was tall, and her more than ample bosom was on display thanks to the low cut design of her dark blue dress, simple lace at the hems. The woman's cheeks were rose coloured, to match the hue of full lips that held a friendly smile. It was obvious by the thin strips of material draped over her shoulders with hundreds of rows of needles woven through that this woman was the tailor who owned the shop. "The name's Illias Hyrn, how may I help you, ma lad?"

Certainly as friendly inside as out, should this woman be representative of the rest of Scara Brae. Her confidence and self assuredness was refreshing and Rardaag could not help but smile as his azure met her auburn. Her hair, he noticed, was probably much longer than it appeared, pulled tight into a net at the nape of her neck where it was wrapped around itself into a small bulbous collection of grey.

"I need not garment right now, Mistress Hyrn," Rardaag hoped once more that he was addressing the woman in a manner that would not offend, "though I may well return for something made in this." He lifted the material to signify what he meant, and Illias smiled broadly, obviously feeling her pitch successful. "I'm actually hoping you could direct me to The Dajas Pagoda; I'm hoping to see it on my first day in the city."

The woman chuckled, and as she did her body seemed to move in waves, an almost hypnotic motion that the elf had to focus on not staring at, for that would surely be considered rude. "The Pagoda, eh? You're on the right road, at least, ma lad." For some reason, she shook her head, as though musing at the folly of youth; perhaps she hadn't noticed Rardaag's race. "Just go out of here, and head north. You'll not get in, mind. No, the gates are sealed shut and City Guards stand watch at each of them. The Pagoda is still clearly in view, mind. If that's all you're after."

The elf lowered his head momentarily in a show of respect for the information given to him, "Thank you, Mistress Hyrn. Hopefully I will be back for some of that material. The day is ageing, though, and I have a lot to do, so I bid you farewell." With that, he weaved past the tailor, quickly grabbed the satchel and bow, and left the shop to enter the street once more.

North, north, north. Rardaag looked left and right, then up at the sun, to judge the direction he needed to travel along the avenue to reach the pagoda. Yes, that's it. He turned off towards where the group of City Guard had been when he entered Mistress Hyrn's shop, though they were now gone; probably evidence it was simply a patrol squad rather than sign of trouble. With a more defined pace now he had a clear purpose and goal, Rardaag walked along the avenue.

He looked now, without the initial distractions, every inch an elf. His stride full of confidence, bordering on arrogance, posture coupled with the single piece robe only serving to highlight the lithe build of the young elven scholar. And with head held high, bow in hand like a staff, one unlearned could easily mistake Rardaag for someone of more importance than he actually was. Had it not been for the satchel.

[Lord Saladin]

The walk to the Pagoda was an enjoyable one, though much shorter than expected. Occasional people offered a smile or a nod to Rardaag, and everyone had the air of cheer about them. The elf returned any smiles or nods, and found himself also being in good cheer - even more so that he usually was. The time spent here would certainly be enjoyable.

The cobbled avenue down which he walked was wide and spacious; away from the docks, the streets were much calmer, and as groups of people stood to idly gossip or discuss current affairs, Rardaag mused at the manner of men. For him, it was almost confusing that such chatter would be of interest. Surely the time would be better spent in learning and expanding knowledge, though he could admit he was a little different to most others. His steady, purposeful pace began to slow slightly as he took the time to absorb the scenery. The architecture here was far from elaborate, yet possessing a simplistic grace that the elf found enjoyable to observe. The buildings all were certainly sturdy, and many held an aged feel to them that implied the sturdiness was more than a clever design trick.

He stopped once in a while, to take a moment looking at the leaves of a tree, or to take a closer observance of a particular building. He even stopped for a moment to purchase an apple from a young hawker, allowing a moment to engage the young man in idle conversation before continuing on. The apple was fresh, juicy and crisp, seeming to mirror the way in which the city was a joy to the senses. The slightly out of tune flute being played by a homeless fellow seemed to accentuate the chants of children skipping with rope, their singing just as tuneless. Everything seemed to justify the slightly slower pace Rardaag was taking to reach the Pagoda, and though used to tranquillity of Istien, the slight bustle within Scara Brae was actually refreshing and enjoyable.

Starting to hum the tune that had been playing by the busker, Rardaag took a moment to gaze up to the sky. As he did, an acute awareness of the time hit him, and he quickened his pace, though did not rush towards the Pagoda; there was still plenty of time but that would quickly change if he didn't take some amount of haste. There would be time for idle wanderings through the city at another time, but he really wanted to see both the Pagoda and the hospital before finding lodgings for the night.

[Lord Saladin]

It didn't take long at his new, faster, pace to reach the widespread opening at the end of the wide avenue. As he did, Rardaag stopped, stood, and allowed his mouth to gape widely. The plaza was mostly empty, with a few people here and there either chatting idly or looking at the structure for which Rardaag had also come to see. Past a few paces, the cobbled avenue give way to a paved, mostly circular area, the stones of a pale grey, that was especially clean for a human city, at least, according to what Rardaag had read whilst in Istien. The plaza was much cleaner than the rest of the city though, the elf noted.

It was, however, the centrepiece of the opening that held the attention of Rardaag. A tower, reaching up into the sky with a splendour and poise for which no words could aptly substitute. The structure, standing proud at seven floors, seemed to carry the glory of those who once resided and fought within its still pristine wooden walls. What appeared to be white paint covered the walls, at this distance appearing untarnished by time and lack of use. Each level of the pagoda was marked by a tile canopy, of blue slate and wood, protruding a short distance out from the building, skirting around it, where the floor of each level was situated. According to what he had read whilst in Istien, these canopies were of both aesthetic and structural value - the extension of the floor supports to also incorporate the canopies strengthened the floors within.

Walking closer to the building, Rardaag's bow tapped upon the paved floor in counterpoint to his steps that remained silent as ever, and the Pagoda seemed to start looming over the figure of the elf. The wall surrounding the pagoda was acting as a barrier against any visitors, and judging by the guards stood two per gate, he would not be able to overcome the barrier. A real shame, he would have much enjoyed being able to see the arenas in which many legendary fighters forged their legacies. Harris Langfall, Jinso Hamura, Ezradane Larran, to think of just a few names etched forever in history, were fighters of legendary skill, among all the others who managed to reach the pinnacle of beating the pagoda. Stopping maybe fifteen metres from the wall, looking upwards, for Rardaag it was like a tangible weight as the memories of fighters long since retired or dead poured out of the spirit of the Pagoda.

Approaching the nearest, half rusted, large iron gate, Rardaag nodded towards one of the two guards. "I suppose no one is allowed in there?" Asking with a friendly voice as he always did, Rardaag was a little shocked to see the muscle bound guard simply shake his head whilst letting out a grunt. The man, with a short, unkempt beard was the first unfriendly person Rardaag had seen since entering Scara Brae, and his entire manner spoke of a discontentment that was similarly unusual. Judging the man's mood one that wouldn't suit conversation, Rardaag stood for a moment in silence, simply observing the fellow, tapping his bow upon the ground lightly as he thought.

[Lord Saladin]

"Would I be permitted to stand around here a little while, to make a drawing of the pagoda?" Utilising his most polite, friendly manner, Rardaag hoped he would not be met with such abrasiveness again from the guard. However, it was the other who spoke. A man not as well built as the grunter, but with a more friendly face and smooth cheeks.

"A'course, friend. We don' mind people spendin' time 'ere in the plaza. There's benches just over there," the guard pointed off to his left with an outstretched arm, and as Rardaag followed, he saw the guard's words were truthful. "Take as long as ya wish."

"Thank you, sir. Good day." Nodding as he walked off towards the bench, the elf gave a pleasant smile to each of the guards. Quickening his pace slightly, he was only slightly surprised at the return of Eleanor; the falcon had gone to hunt for food, and her return was inevitable. However, she generally was not too fond of cities, so her returning in the centre of the city was a little unexpected.

Eleanor perched on Rardaag's right shoulder as he made his approach to the bench, and let out a small cry of what sounded like satisfaction. The elf raised a hand to the small bird and stroked her feathers gently before sitting down. Taking a moment to relax a little, Rardaag then reached into his satchel to pull out a booklet of blank paper and various sticks of charcoal that were in a small metal tin. Placing the tin on the wood of the bench, and the booklet upon his lap, the elf chose a stick of suitable thickness, and began to study intently the Pagoda, making mental note of many of the architectural nuances, and the general feel of the building; its over powering presence, the grandiose manner of its position in the exact centre of the plaza. Then, with Eleanor seeming to watch him, Rardaag began to draw the building.

It was like a meditation, yes moving up to the building, remaining there for a moment, then dropping back to the paper, slowly filling with the scratches of charcoal created by Rardaag's ever moving hand. Lost within the calm of duplicating reality, time seemed to lose all meaning as the elf spent time on his favourite hobby besides learning, and no notice was taken of the people walking into the plaza, nor the changing of the guards; a rather ritualistic routine that had been performed for countless ages, yet Rardaag didn't take any notice of its occurrence. For him, at that moment, drawing was all there was. It created within the elf a deep calm and after only a few short minutes, Rardaag was lost within his meditation.

[Lord Saladin]

Soon, the page was covered in the grained charcoal, scratches and shadings from his fingers, and he continued on, adding in all manner of intricacies to bring the Pagoda to life on the paper. It had taken nearly two hours for the elf to finish the drawing, and as he brushed off the final loose dust, he placed the third stick of charcoal back into the tin, having used two sticks entirely. Placing the tin back inside the satchel, he pulled out a small silk handkerchief, to clean his fingers of the black dust. With a certain amount of caution, Rardaag placed the booklet back into the satchel; now there was a drawing in there, the booklet was, in the elf's mind, much more valuable than it previously had.

"It's a good drawing, Eleanor. Now to visit the hospital, a fair few people will be there, mind." He looked up at the sky for a brief moment, taking in the full height of the Pagoda, still in wonder of it. The sun had lowered much more than he had hoped; the drawing had taken longer than expected to complete, certainly. "Or not, my feathered friend. It is far too late now, we had better find some lodgings. Back to the harbour, then."

A few passing people glanced as they heard the musical voice of an elf seemingly speaking to himself; such a thing as senile elves was rarely heard of, let alone seen, and though it was disconcerting, the people said nothing. Though, when Rardaag rose, there was a slight nervousness behind the friendly smiles and nods. He didn't notice them, feeling slightly rushed, but still in an excited frame of mind after what was certainly a very successful session of drawing.

Walking back down the avenue, the elf didn't take the same leisurely pace as he had done earlier in the day - now he spared only a few glances at the buildings, a nod and smile to each person, with a slight feeling of hurry behind each and every one. He did, however, get stopped by something he hadn't noticed previously: A flower upon a low branch of a tree. He walked over to the tree, raised his hands to cup the flower gently, plucking a single petal to breathe in the fragrance. It was magnificent, the spiralling petals giving the wide flower a near artistic feel to it, and the scent was sweet and yet not overpowering as some flowers so large could be. Had he the time to spare, Rardaag would certainly have stopped to draw the flower, but he much preferred to be in doors before dark - he had heard stories of the Scourge, and read of their exploits whilst at Isitien, and had no desire to meet with such miscreants. They were aptly named, in the elf's opinion, should the stories be true.

[Lord Saladin]

And so it was, after a short while, Rardaag found himself back at the harbour. As he got closer, the smell of salt filled the air with increasing potency, and as he looked out to the piers, a long inhalation ensued, taking in the cool, fresh, air. It was refreshing, and the cool breeze that pounded the promenade gave a slight edge to the already cooling late afternoon air. Rardaag allowed himself a little time to just enjoy this freshness, taking in the sound of the waves crashing against each other, but did not idle for too long as he started to walk down the rows of taverns and inns, looking for somewhere he could stay the night, and possibly get a more permanent residence.

He passed many taverns before reaching an inn, the sounds of rowdy sailors and other workers seeping out of the windows and occasional open doors. The first inn, the 'Jolly Captain,' was certainly too loud for the elf's liking, and the second, 'Traveller's Rest,' was heaving, and Rardaag decided no accommodation would be found there. It was actually several inns that were passed until a suitable one was found - 'The Horse and Carriage.' It was a homely little establishment, a fire roaring loudly in the common room, ample tables free to allow a decent choice. It was clean and generally smoke free, only a few patrons held pipes between their teeth, and the smells of cooking sifted in from the kitchen. Yes, this would do perfectly.

A stout looking man of middle years, judging by his red face and mostly receded hairline, approached Rardaag, "Greetin's friend. M'name's Jain, I own this 'ere place. What can I get you?" Jain was, from what the elf could tell, a friendly chap, his manner much like everyone else Rardaag had seen in Scara Brae so far, save for that one guard; who was probably having a bad day anyway.

"Some water, a meal and a place to stay for the night, if you would be so kind." The innkeeper nodded and walked away towards the bar to fetch the water for Rardaag, who sat down at the nearest table. Though not as extravagant as the dining rooms in Istien, the wooden table and chair were comfortable enough, and as he settled in, waiting for the drink, Rardaag rested the bow against the wall behind him, allowing Eleanor to hop down to the table before she launched into the air and out of an open window - this was certainly too enclosed for her liking. A few moments later, the innkeeper returned, placing a glass and pewter pitcher of water on the table.

"We've smoked gammon and egg t'night, friend. Will that be t'your likin'?"

"Yes, that will be fine. What is the bill, including a night's rest?" Rardaag would speak to the man in the morning when the inn would doubtlessly be less busy about extended board.

"Fifteen gold pieces, standard weightings." His voice held a little apprehension as he said the price, as though expecting hesitation from the elf. There was only a little surprise when Rardaag pulled a small pouch from a pocket within his grey attire, taking out the requested amount, and handing it to Jain.

"There you go. A good price." In truth, it was actually a little expensive, but for the added comfort of a peaceful environment, the elf had no problem in paying the extra gold. "I trust business is well?" Idle conversation would help build rapport when the morning came and negotiations would start for an extended stay - the price was okay, but for any length of time, would become rather expensive and beyond the elf's budget.

"Aye, that it is, friend. Ne'er better, in fact. I'll get t'your meal now, the cook is a good one, but sometimes she likes t'argue with me." Jain then stalked off towards the kitchen. Rardaag smiled at the man, he was almost stereotypical to the innkeepers he had read about, though also different in some aspects. It was obvious Jain was not too interested in idle chatter, and he made no effort to reassure the quality of the business he ran. Shaking his head at the strangeness of men, Rardaag settled at the table, pouring himself a glass of the cold water, taking a quick gulp.

[Lord Saladin]

Then, he felt a slight tugging at his clothes, and looking down saw a familiar face. Framed by blonde curls, it was the face of the small girl he had met on the barge into the city. "'Ello mista'. Where's ya bird?"

Chuckling slightly, Rardaag ruffled the girl's hair again, "There are too many people here for Eleanor, so she's gone into the woods, I imagine, to sleep for the night." The girl nodded, and from across the common room a voice shouted for the girl, Alice, to come back to her table; Rardaag assumed it was the girl's mother, but could not be sure - humans were strange beings.

"I gotta go, mista', s'a shame ya bird wasn' wi' ya." The Alice skipped off, seemingly rather excited. Rardaag smiled as he took another gulp of the water. An interesting day, that was for sure. And, if nothing else, he had learned that, whilst reading books was good and proper, nothing could compensate actually experiencing the things that were written. It was much more enjoyable, and gave a greater insight into the manner of things.

The meal arrived after only a short few minutes, and was very good. The meat was fresh, and not salted to the point of hiding the taste of the meat itself, whilst the eggs were ripe, and the yolks a healthy deep orange hue. Eating the meal slowly, so as to savour each mouthful, Rardaag found himself rather satisfied by its completion, feeling full and fatigued.

Sitting in the common room for just a little while longer, as was only proper, he assumed, Rardaag felt the calls of sleep and his bed. He asked a barmaid to direct him to his room so he could retire. Guiding up narrow stairs, the teenager showed Rardaag to his room, giving him a key and warmed towel, explaining that hot water was available in a basin, should he wish to freshen up.

Entering the room and leaving the young woman behind, the elf closed the door, locking it. The room itself was a nice one, a pot basin held water that steamed, a mirror above it, plainly adorned. The bed was large, and the quilt looked of a decent thickness, though a little old. The pillows seemed a little flat, but then he was accustomed to the down pillows of Istien. The dark carpet also seemed rather clean, and the blue curtains matched the paintwork on the walls. A plain, yet comfortable, room, much like the common lounge downstairs.

Opening the window to look at the darkening sky, Rardaag had suspicions that Eleanor would return in the night; she often did. The elf took a short while then to go through the various rituals pertinent to the Elven religion, keeping a reverent air whilst doing so. Finishing, he made preparations for bed; washed himself with the hot water, brushed his teeth, and eventually settled down between the sheets. Laying there quietly, he wondered on what he would do on the morrow.

The queen, I have heard, has a rather extensive library. Yes, I would much like to peruse her collection.

[Christoph]

General notes: ‘ello, ello! I’ll be your judge today, *insert general introduction here*.

Continuity: 7

Not a bad opening. It gave me a good feel for why your character was there, and while the reasoning for his travels could be seen as a little cliché, I felt you portrayed it rather authentically. The ending wasn’t bad, either. It gave me a good idea of where the story was going. On the whole, I’d say this was one of your stronger categories.

Setting: 7

The opening post did a good job of setting the stage at the sea. The city itself was described decently, though perhaps not with the same stylistic flair. The description of the Dajas Pagoda was pretty cool, though it struck me as odd that an Elf scholar from Anebrilith, the shining city of Althanas, couldn’t find words to describe the Pagoda. =p

Pacing: 4

This would be the weakest area of the quest. It started out nicely – not a breakneck pace, but a nice, easy pace that fit the story. By the third and fourth posts, though, things really started to drag. It felt repetitive, such as with the whole quest for lodging; the topic could have been addressed and concluded far more succinctly. Avoid too much repetition. I get it; Rardaag is enjoying his visit and predicts future enjoyment. I got it very early on. There’s no need to keep reminding the reader so often. Lol. He also ‘took a moment’ rather often, it seemed, though that seemed to be the whole point of the quest. Nothing really happened, but you did a fair job in making a whole lot of nothing seem almost important.

On the whole, the quest wasn’t particularly exciting. It got interesting at times, but not enough to make up for it. Exploration and exposition can be difficult to do well, though. You seem to be on the right track, but keep working at it. I also felt that you were maybe having trouble ending the story arc cleanly, as the end really dragged on.

Persona: 7

The first post gave me a good glimpse at your character’s yearning for knowledge and experience, as well as his emotional nature. The “young elf” dynamic came through nicely. This carried over as the thread continued. I really love your character, especially the way he interacted with the little girl.

Dialogue: 7

I really, really liked the first post in terms of dialogue. I liked the thread on the whole in terms of dialogue, really, though it got kind of annoying that every human in Scara Brae spoke with the same accent. =p Aside from that, a few spots seemed a bit lackluster, but I definitely liked your character’s manner of speech; I felt that it did his personality and background justice.

Action: 5

I liked how you brought the characters to life through little details in their mannerisms and the way they moved. The way you described the fat tailor woman made me chuckle more than it probably should have. =p However, your merit became a flaw in some areas, when it felt like you were over-describing every little action. That also played into Pacing a bit.

Technique: 5.5

Some of the descriptions were nice, but I felt the style got a little… clunky at times, and seemed repetitive in the first post. Try reading aloud, not only the way you imagine it, but how you think a reader might speak it in his head. Some of the writing flows like a high school essay, informing the reader of what’s going on, but not articulating it in a fluid, engaging manner. Other times your writing seems to halt and go off on small tangents, breaking up the flow. Some of the sentence structure didn’t help, either. I spotted a few run-ons throughout the thread.

On a related note, it seemed like every sentence you wrote used commas, which again leads to the problem of the flow of the writing. The sentences all seem the same. This diminishes the effect of any emphasis you attempted to put on certain sentences and generally made it a bit of a chore to read at certain spots. Another piece of advice I’ll give is to avoid overusing “was” as the primary working verb in your sentences. Sometimes, ‘was’ serves as the most effective verb, but more often than not, a stronger and more specific verb could be used. When ‘was’ gets overused, it comes off to the reader that the author couldn’t think of the write words to use. See note #3 and #4 and search your writing for similar examples.

Mechanics: 8

Spelling errors were all but non-existent as far as I could tell. There were some problems with run-ons, though. See note #7 for an example. Interestingly, you also had a couple of fragments that I didn’t feel served a reasonable purpose. See note #8.

Clarity: 8.5

The beginning of the second post was odd. The word “shriek” might have worked well to describe the sound of the falcon in a different context, but the first impression I got was that someone, a person, was screaming. Keep word choices in mind in the future, doing your best to select the best, clearest word for a given purpose. Aside from that, the repetitive nature of a lot of your writing made sure that I wasn’t often confused, at least. =p

Wildcard: 7

I liked this thread. I didn’t love it, but I liked it. You’ve got some potential, definitely. I felt that you had a hard time really making this quest go anyway, as well as ending cleanly. Try to work on storytelling from start to finish in your future work, and I predict success.

Total: 66! Pretty solid.

Lord Saladin gains 750 EXP and loses 15 GP for a nice stay at the inn. He also earns the adoration of a cute little girl. (just don't make me call the cops. =p )




Notes:

1.) “but on business and things that held no interest for our turquoise haired elf.” – Point of view shift in the narrative.

2.) “The crowds of people from the barge and other ships, all heading towards the city of Scara Brae, acted like a raging river, leading any who was [should be ‘were’] caught in its currents closer to the city, which seemed to be bustling at this time of day.” – This sentence seemed to keep shambling along a bit too much.

3.) “and whilst he considered that which was [perhaps replace with ‘lie’] ahead of him,”

4.) “Whilst he felt wonder at the opportunities ahead of him, the elf was also aware that he would need to arrange accommodation, possibly for an extended period” – try “…the elf also acknowledged his need to arrange accommodations” It flows more smoothly, without seeming wordy. It also builds on the alliteration you presented in “arrange accommodations”. This is just one example, naturally. Keep the principle in mind and experiment.

5.) “So, by spending time here, two proverbial birds would be killed with a single, just as proverbial, stone.” – The word ‘so’ doesn’t often work well in the manner you used it. A word such as ‘thus’ would prove more effective, and would fit in with the more classical English you use. Other than that, I really liked this sentence because it fits with a character that is very academic in nature. It seems like the sort of thing he’d actually think to himself. Just don’t overuse that trick.

6.) “Breaking from his contemplation, Rardaag looked around the current area with keen azure eyes.” – The latter part of this sentence struck me as something that I would expect from an inexperienced roleplayer trying to sound better than he is. First: seriously, “azure eyes”? You should know better than that. Nobody is going to be any more impressed by the word “azure” than they would be by you just calling them blue. Lol. Second: It breaks up the point of view of the narration when presented in that way. When you’re getting into your character’s head, you don’t want to then break that and draw attention to his outward appearance unless there’s a very good reason for it, something that would have drawn the character’s attention to it.

7.) “He moved from the alleyway, back into the wide avenue, looking both ways, he noted a group of the City Guard, they were likely either on patrols or dealing with some miscreant or other; they weren't of any real interest, all truth considered.” – Run-on.

8.) “And with head held high, bow in hand like a staff, one unlearned could easily mistake Rardaag for someone of more importance than he actually was. Had it not been for the satchel.” – While I see what you were going for, leaving the last bit as a fragment, instead of just using a comma gave it more emphasis than I felt was required in this instance.

[Taskmienster]

EXP and GP added.