History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it. (Open)

[Relt PeltFelter]

Trying to get back in the swing of things. Two to three people involved would be cool, but don't get too carried away.

The damp of the forest was almost overpowering, and in this way it reminded Relt PeltFelter of home. More than this, though, it reminded her of the war; the Ardennes; the bloodshed. Good times, really. Her mate Coffer had made a necklace of cogs from the backs of the Hun's cyborg soldiers. This forest had the feel of a combat zone. It may not be scarred with trenches and soaked in the peculiar, oily blood of mechanical Germans, but it had a history. Relt pinched out her cigarette and slipped it back in the box, the scent of smoldering hemp tantalizing her nostrils.

It had been two days since Relt had found herself in this forest, but she had managed to make a day's rations last that whole stretch. This, too, struck dulcet chords of memory. She half-expected to see a pickelhaube poke out above a stockade, hear the whistling of artillery just before it sheared a tree in half and left her mate Coffer burnt to a green crisp just as he'd always said he wanted to go, but not dead yet, no, not dead yet, and his eyes open and his lipless, blackened face twitching in a sad parody of a smile as he put the last motion he would ever have to use pulling the trigger as the young German lad surged over the top and that laugh, oh God, that hacking, broken laugh from Coffer's crumbling mouth...good on ya, Coffer, you dirty son of a bitch. Never let them see you wince.

The trouble, she realized as she left her reverie, was that for two days she'd wandered these woods encountering no sign of civilization. It was drizzling, and there was a distinct tone of grey deadening the leafy verdure to a dull, wet background signal. Relt considered briefly that she should simply stay put for the night, relight her cig for warmth, but it was early yet. Perhaps another mile before the light left totally. With hands placed jauntily in jacket pockets, she strolled out from under the massive conifer which had so ineffectively shielded her from the precipitation.

Only a few dozen yards from this tree, GrpCpt PeltFelter found herself in a clearing. What's more, there were two loose, uneven rows of standing stones at the center. Graves. She grinned; well, there were people here at some point. With any luck, they'd have been locals; with an extraordinary amount of luck, they'd be locals with family coming to visit. From a nearby town. Possibly an old brick pub. Surely if the trees of this forest were so like the ones of her Europe, the men and women of this sphere couldn't be too terribly different from her own? Either way, here was as good a place to hunker down as any. She withdrew an indecent magazine from her kit as she leaned confidently against a sloping tombstone.

Of course, she only read it for the articles.

[Othar Almenneran]

Othar tramped through the muggy forest. The soaring trees did nothing for him and he ignored them as he trudged on through the damp undergrowth. It had been two weeks since the catastrophic incident that had left him beyond recognion, even to his own mother. Not that she would want to recognise him like this. Ekendra fluttered around his shoulders, chittering to herself. Othar swatted at her in annoyance. Although she had been his heart-mate before, he was rapidly finding her more annoying in this state.

His stomach complained loudly and for the first time that day he stopped. Taking stock of his surroundings, he searched for something to eat. Stopping and istening, antenna twitching, he felt the prescence of several squirrels in the trees. But also, something else, a larger prescence. A human. Although intrigued, his stomach took priority and he waited until one of the creatures ran down a nearby tree and then speared it with his right hand. Blood dripping from his maw, he moved towards the unidentified sounds.

There was a clearing, full of erect stones. Leaning against one such stone was a short woman. She was holding a tome of some sort, quite unlike any that Othar had seen before. He approached, eyes locked on the book. Ekendra stood on his shoulder voicing her annoyance at his behaviour. He ignored her again.

[Relt PeltFelter]

The hairs on the back of Relt's neck stood on end, and she lowered the printed improprieties. Standing before her was...well, it looked as though it were some kind of...man-beetle? Orbited by a smaller beetloid? Only her military discipline and fine British upbringing allowed her to stifle a cry of derision and, possibly, a stream of sick.

"Hallo there. I am Group Captain PeltFelter, of her Majesty's Royal Air Force. I demand, as an officer of the military, that you and your child there direct me immediately to the nearest aeroport, ornithoptery, or sky-shipyard post haste! I have business to attend to and simply cannot permit another moment's dawdling."

She stowed the magazine, her eyes not betraying even a flicker of discomfort, and quelled the urge to simply perform the only possible act of mercy in this situation and dispatch the wretched, chitinous...thing. After all, he may be a king or something on this world. Probably not, though; few kings were known to eat squirrels. Except perhaps the king of France. Frenchman were well known to eat damned near anything, if they floweried up the name enough.

[Othar Almenneran]

The first thing that penetrated Othar's consciousness was the voice. Her accent was somewhat annoying and the haughty air shredded his already tested nerves. Second was her form, not a bad specimen, and certainly suitable for mating. Then he caught her expression. Although the short woman tried hard, Othar wes well-used to noticing contained bile and revulsion. Momentarily he looked wishfully at the now hidden magazine, then a wave of hate surged through him and only Ekendra's whispering in his ear stopped him attacking the woman. Had they met a few weeks ago, she would have accepted him without question, but now...

There was silence in the glade, except for the rustling of the surrounding trees and the slight squelch of Othar's hooves on the damp ground. When he responded, the chittering voice reverberated, echoing from the branches around the clearing.
'Aeroport?' He spat the word at her. Literally. 'What the hell's an aeroport?'

He jabbed a long scaled finger towards her as he did so, the claw extending mere inches from her face. Ekendra flew behind him and materialised in human form, wearing a loose t-shirt. She peered around his shoulder at the captain-woman who was arrogant enough to order him around.

[Relt PeltFelter]

Relt regarded the claw with distaste; clearly, this was not the most mannerly of men. His gooey expression at the pornography, slouching posture, and generally dumpy appearance implied that even in a potential world of beetle-men, he was the social equivalent of a sack of dog shit in a hot shower. Of more concern than his inappropriate behavior and difficulties with personal boundaries, this individual seemed...rather ignorant. Also, a woman had appeared behind him in a limited state of dress. Relt decided to ignore this, as it may be a thoroughly common occurrence on this planet, for all she knew.

"Ah. It seems that the society on this world is, shall we say, inferior to my own. I suppose I had not considered that your planet would be without aerial transport. In this event, I would be much obliged if you would direct me to the nearest settlement worth my time; I would gladly reimburse you. Perhaps one of these indecent publications?"

Without shifting her gaze away from the intruding claw, she began to rummage through her field kit. "Ah, let's see...'Plump Rump'? No, perhaps not. How about 'Third Leg Pullers'? That one's always well received. What do you say, my good, er, man?" GpCpt PeltFelter displayed the periodical, the cover of which was emblazoned with a decent mimeograph print of a buxom young lady deftly covering her more intimate of regions with a pair of Oriental fans. Her gaze shifted to the blonde girl again, and she could put it aside no longer. "Incidentally, there appears to be a woman of ill repute behind you. I'm not entirely certain what that means, in your bizarre insect culture."

[Othar Almenneran]

'Ill repute?' Ekendra sputtered, unable to control herself. Instantly, her legs were clad in a pair of silken trousers and the t-shirt became a more flattering cut. Othar turned and silenced his mate with a glance. He had gathered that this woman was new to the world, and decided he could play this to his advantage. But not if Ekendra revealed they were not as they appeared.
'Inferior to your own, indeed!' His voice contained as much sarcasm as was possible in his now buzzing voice. 'Our world contains much that you could not imagine.' Not that I have the pleasure of its company he thought bitterly, but at least the gods had provided this play-thing to amuse himself with. He beckoned to the khaki-clad woman and stepped forward as he lowered his claw. The magazine had certainly caught his eye and he made to snatch it out of her hand, before turning on his hoof and grunting.
'Sure, I'll find you a town' He led the way north from the glade, nto the thick, dank undergrowth, absently scraping the moss off of the tombstones he passed and devouring it. He stowed the glossy sheaf in a crack in his chitin that formed a pocket and smirked at his own fantasies. His antenna flicked as he tried to discern the direction of the nearest town.

I'm not entirely convinced that the taking of the magazine doesn't count as bunnying but if you didn't intend me to have it yet then I'll edit it in and just stalk off without it.

[Relt PeltFelter]

Don't sweat it, man, I would have handled that exactly the same way. You grab that porno and never look back.

An expression of slight perplexion momentarily crossed Relt's features as the figmentary woman seemed to summon slightly more substantive garments for herself. Perhaps not the strangest sight in the world, but rather an unusual one. She gladly parted with "Third Leg Puller" as the coleopterous individual snatched it away ("Plump Rump" was really more her style, anyway) and followed him as he breezed off into the woods.

Both his attitude and wretched skin-pocket filled Relt, the finest figure of military discipline, with revulsion. He clearly did not know his place in the hierarchy of British power would be among the wretched Cockney urchins in the factories, and she doubted he was even fairly high in the class system of this world. Possibly some sort of chitinous chimney sweep or instructive lackwit?

"I must offer my thanks, my good man. Your ephemeral harlot and yourself are rather accomodating of a new traveller to this backward sphere. I would ask you if you would make a concerted effort to improve your manners while escorting me. I have an iron constitution, of course, but it would not do for an officer of the RAF to be seen in public with such a boor. Unless of course this is normal for your degenerate race, to behave in this way, in which case I will relax my cultural criticism in order to communicate it to your Beetle Burghermeister or what have you."

Not that I'm an expert or anything, but this might be a good time for a third party to swoop in, if any are waiting in the wings. If not, let's just keep going!

[sweet_oblivion]

Giant beetle? Big deal. Giant man-beetle? Really big deal.

-Those aware of Dino's story so far would be very aware that the young man has an interest in a particular brand of alchemy he calls Bio Alchimia, in which the body of any living being is the focus of chemical manipulation for the most part although other things do share their role in the matter. It is quite a hard subject to follow as even I who holds a great deal of knowledge of the subject hardly understand it.

This aside, the idea of a being that had not been seen before suddenly popping up and bringing lots of attention to itself was interesting to Dino. Like always, when something interesting came to the boy’s attention, he rushed off without a second thought. This venture would lead them to Corone, more specifically Concordia. Of course, he could not just simply find this stupid beetle person, oh no that would have been too damn easy! No, the pompous brat had to make a stop at every stupid little bug that happened to buzz by and study it with the intensity of lioness starved for weeks being taunted by a steak of the most...-

"Quite you’re whining and hurry with the image." Dino slapped a single hand against the book, sending it falling to the ground from its levitation. The Tome of Knowledge had made a habit of logging anything and everything that Dino did. Of course these journal notes were long winded rants about how everything Dino did was annoying it in some way. This made it rather unreliable as an information hub but its abilities made up for this, barely. The tome soon floated back to its original position, the crystal eye in its center lighting up with a faint glow as it pointed directly toward the beetle, as Dino continued to observe the weevil.

"I think I found it!" Genbu's cry could be heard from somewhere in the distance. To those unable to understand the language of the animal kingdom it would sound like nothing more than a deep bellow from a large animal, and the tortoise was indeed large. It was likely that the creature had seen Genbu but Dino could not be sure. "Hurry up and get an image of it before it gets away. Follow it to the next continent if you have to." Dino ordered the tome, grabbing hold of it and tossing it in the direction he believed his shelled companion to be.

-I fail to see what I get out of this?"
"I restrain myself from blazing your jolly ass as kindling for supper."
-Ah, right-o then-

And the tome was off.

"Thank you for your patience Sir weevil." He said before running off after the book. Hopefully this added information on beetles and other insects he had decided to delve himself in would help to better understand the creature that awaited him.

By this time the book had already reached the Genbu who had appeared more or less a minute ago behind the trio and would have followed them had they attempted to run or something of the sort. The tortoise of course stayed on its guard as this would not be the first time something Dino had decided to hunt down saw Genbu as its next meal. Once the Tome of Knowledge found Genbu it would look over all three of the people the tortoise had spotted until finding the Coleoptera humanoid.

Like had been previously been done over two dozen times this day, the eye shaped crystal began to glow as the tome scanned the creature from a few feet away. It would be a few minutes before the image was complete upon its pages, taking twice or maybe even three times as long if the creature insisted on moving.

[Othar Almenneran]

Othar span around. Once again, he jabbed his clawed appendage at the diminutive Brit.
'Will you just shut up? He roared at her, globs of spittle and bile clingingto the chitin surrounding his mouthpiece. He took a step forward, risking almost impaling the khaki-clad hunter on his middle digit. Leaning towards her, his rank breath flowing over her, he continued his bile-stream. 'I am not some ignorant little savage, for you to trample over on your path to glory!' He could feel the pressure of his bestial instincts raging beneath the his exoskeleton, but he contained himself - barely. The woman bore a knife and blatantly knew of its uses.

'I am as human as you are' Ekendra had adopted the same pose as her larger mate, but perched on his shoulder and many times smaller. 'Just the victim of an unfortunate...accident.' Neither of them felt a nessecity to share the true cause of their plight (Othar) with this new woman, who evidently had no idea where she was. As the enraged chittering of his heart-mate stopped, a slight movement caught Othar's eye and he leaned sideways, looking over the woman's shoulder.

'Now, if you could put your pretentious accent to use, and tell me why the bloody hell we're being followed by a turtle?'

[Relt PeltFelter]

It would be odd to watch Relt's face in that moment. It wasn't a true change in expression, in that the muscles didn't really seem to move. The shift was more akin to a landscape when the sun is obscured by clouds. She drew her service revolver (empty though it was) and held it forward. "Do you see this, you churlish swine? This is a Webley Mark VI service revolver. I have killed dozens of people with this, if the cyborg monstrosities of the Hun even count as men anymore. I shot down a charging lion with three heads, once, in Africa. And you are fooling yourself if you believe I will think twice before killing you. So you will restrain yourself, or our alliance of convenience will be at an end."

Relt cocked an eyebrow, then replaced the weapon. She straightened her jacket, adjusted her cravat, and glanced around at the aforementioned turtle. "As for the chelonian, I would suggest that a small meal will help us both calm down and compose ourselves. Damnation, it must be nearly teatime already! If you would kindly murder the reptile, I can put the kettle on, and we can have a brief repast before continuing on." The pilot flipped her kit around and withdrew the portable tea kit, flicking the automatic kettle on and filling it from the small flask of water.

"And by the way, I don't have an accent; this is the Queen's English as intended. Your accent, however, is quite pronounced. Would that we were in London, I would suggest a fine vocal tutor, but alas, we are in...what, exactly, is the name of this forest?"

[sweet_oblivion]

Genbu gave an agitated sigh while slightly shaking his head at the group he was to be following. He could not speak other languages, but his understanding of a few choice words was pretty well developed for a creature of human intelligence. He never liked when someone mentioned 'meal' while looking in his direction. He was sure killing the woman would be of no problem, all Dino needed was the beetle. Of course there was always the chance that the creature would get startled and take off, but the Tome could follow the creature with ease so there was little to really worry about other than Dino complaining about having to search even farther after locating the creature once already.

As Genbu was in the final stages of deciding if this woman were to live past the next ten minutes Dino finally made his appearance, rubbing the tortoise head as he watched the group ahead of them. "Oh, so it has friends. I guess our fear of it running away should not be of too much concern now, eh Genbu?" Dino smiled at his companion while speaking the universal language of the kingdom of beasts. He wondered if the beetle-man was able to understand him. "I think they want to eat me...." Genbu replied to find Dino already walking toward the creature, to no surprise.

"Can you blame them? Everything needs to eat Genbu." Dino smiled for an entirely different reason as the tortoise glared at the boy in anger and disgust. "And why must I always be on the menu!" Genbu cried out as Dino switched to the common tongue and approached the beetle-man. Ignoring the woman completely and with no regard for personal space, he began to examine the creature visually and physically. “This creature is quite amazing.” Dino ran his fingers across the chitin covering its body. It was not very tough but it offered some decent protection.

Compared to other beetles, this one was not much different physically. It seemed if Dino wanted to learn anything exceptional about the beetle-man he would have to examine its insides. “Hmmm, how do you feel about some minor dissection? I am assuming you are capable of speech looking at the company you keep and you don’t seem to lack the components needed, or so it would seem.”

[Othar Almenneran]

Othar was dumbstruck. This ignorant boy (obviously involved in some way with the turtle) had appeared from nowhere and was now probing his chitinous exoskeleton. He seemed to be accompanied by some kind of self-writing book. Othar stepped back, ready to unleash yet another torrent of bile-infused abuse. His four eyes blinked in unison, and the tips of antenna started to flush with anger. Had these idiots no respect for private space? His inner turmoil was beginning to manifest itself and he could feel his libido heightening as his animalistic desires took hold. Allowing himself a moment of revelry in the feeling, his back markings become more vivid and pheromones emanated from his back. Struggling to control the desires, which were unfortunately directed at the nearest female, he forced his body back under the control of his human side. He averted his gaze from the huntress, upon whom it had been transfixed for the duration of the experience.

However, the instinctual drives would not back down without a fight and instead rose up as a furious bellow, directed at the insolent white-haired child who had suddenly assaulted him. He drew himself up to his full height - almost equal to that of his aggressor, and raised a claw. His stumpy wings flared and rustled as he stared at the boy. Ekendra beat him too the draw though as she dove through the air in front of him and swore loudly at the boy. She flew around his head and materialised in human form behind him. Having re-attired herself in the original loosely clad t-shirt, she sauntered past the boy, swaying her well-proportioned hips as she did so. As she passed she allowed a finger to trace along the boy's arm that had been attempting to violate Othar. Although insubstantial, the feeling would have been cohesive enough to provoke a response from any red-blooded male. She proceeded to position herself against one of the standing stones, one leg raised slightly and leaning against the moss-ridden rock. Othar however, had almost forgotten his own lust and was struggling to contain a violent burst of laughter at his mate's games. His pride for her tactics at that moment was immense and he almost relinquished all the ill-will he had born from her earlier irritations. Almost.

[Relt PeltFelter]

Having found a convenient boulder on which to set the automatic kettle, Relt was now allowing the tea to steep. Her official timepiece stated it as being a quarter to midnight, but it was clearly for a different time zone on a different world. Still, it would work to time the steeping, as good tea must not be allowed to much or too little time to steep. And this was good tea, amazingly! The RAF iron rations may taste like a log soaked in dung for a fortnight, but no honest Englishman or Englishwoman would dare equip a soldier with bad tea.

Turning to appraise her chitinous companion, she was a bit shocked to see someone else prodding him in a most upsetting manner. She had been so engrossed in the tea she had failed to notice both his approach and the lurid advances of the beetle-man's decoy courtesan. Irritated, she picked up the steeping kettle and approached the perplexing tableau. She noted that the turtle was still alive, the newcomer was orbited by some manner of book. Possibly it was a stenographer of some sort, charting the ego of this individual?

"Excuse me, you reprobate, but this individual is currently in my employ for the cost of exactly one smutty periodical. I would greatly appreciate it if you would cease this decidedly improper behavior and allow us to continue to the nearest urban center." Relt strained upwards toward what she assumed was the ear of her current employee, saying in a not-quite-whisper, "And you, beetle fellow, you may allow your diversionary prostitute to disengage her erotic display. If this individual does not cease his inappropriate touching, I will put him to the blade myself."

[sweet_oblivion]

Violence would always be the answer to the weak minded it would seem. The creature showed some anger in his approach but this would not be the first time some beast had decided to maul Dino and he was sure it would not be the last. His mantle would protect him from any bodily harm the creature could inflict with its claws and he doubted they would be strong enough to break through iron so his face was the only place he need worry about recieving an attack. This however was not the case as another insect that seemed to be traveling with the beetle-man began to buzz around his head screaming something he could not exactly make out before a girl around his own age appeared behind him.

The girl would then make her way to a large boulder and place herself upon it with sexual intent. Sadly, Dino's experience with human mating rituals was a lot less than most his age, spending so many years researching and traveling he had yet to be put into such a situation and was nearly oblivious to what this newly emerged girl was up to. His own lust for knowledge and the next level of his research to be complete however would stray his mind from the girl and back to the creature, only to be distrubed by another woman of the group. This one of course threatened him, the usual for Dino as an adventure was not truly and adventure until someone attempted to take his life.

"My actions are hindering your employment of this creature in no way. In any case, if you chose agression then it will be matched. I have spent too much time searching for a specimen such as this. It could prove to be a valuable asset in my research dealing with the combination of humanoid life forms and creatures from other species and classifications. Now if you will excuse me while my companion here takes this creatures image and refrain from obstructing my analysis you may have your friend back within a few moments time."

This was all said without even looking in the other womans direction as Dino circled around the creature following the Tome as it continued to record the creature upon its pages, its actions and movements making the process take longer than intended.

[Othar Almenneran]

Othar's laughter died in his throat. The boy, despite being older than Othar, completely ignored Ekendra's movements. Even as she sat, he returned to his examination, enraging the chitinous humanoid. The floating book flew around, incessently printing on its pages. As Othar made a move to swipe the tome out of the air, he suddenly realized what it was doing. Appearing in ts pages was a perfect likeness of his own body. His arrogant nature was tugged by this image, forcing him to stop and stare. All of a sudden, he did not mind the probation and incessant drawing. He stood until the drawing finished, although he resented his classificaton as a 'specimen' and voiced this fact to the studious boy. He ignored the small woman's anger at a delay, anything that annoyed her was welcome to stay. Although he was conscious she had gifted him an interesting picture tome.

When the examination had finished he decided the wisest course of action would be too submit to the accented woman's wishes and start towards a town. Making his way in the direction of Underwood, his hoofed feet kicking up leaves, he turned briefly to the younger of his companions.
'Would it be possible to get a copy of that picture?' A high-pitched sigh whistle from his mate, and she clawed at his antenna as she flew past. He flicked his other sensory organ and sent her wheeling through the air.

[Relt PeltFelter]

Sorry this took so long, everyone. The spring term really came in with a strong right hook to my free time, but now that the first week is over, things should even out, even if I am only able to post on weekends.

Finishing her tea as haughtily as she dared, Relt turned and stalked off behind the beetle-man. Another crumb of iron rations was choked down, and finally the pilot's mood begin to brighten; this process was assisted by the general lightening of the forest's atmosphere. The sun was beginning to shine through the trees, and the sound of bullfrogs brumbling and insects sizzling told of a river ahead. A grin brightening her face, Relt ran ahead of her coleopteran guide to survey the crystalline stream.

A very old stone bridge spanned the river, which was bordered on each bank by thick stands of rushes. It reminded her of the creek of her childhood, where she caught salamanders and kept them in jars, much to her parents' horror. It was a far sight better than the foggy Thames of London, filled with steam-powered sub-diver-devices and man-sized crayfish that fed on the slowest or unluckiest of street urchins.

The sharp smell of smoke broke Relt from her reverie; just across the bridge, half-hidden by the river rushes, sat a ruined wooden wagon, still burning after what must have been a few hours. Crossing the bridge cautiously to investigate, the soldier's eyes widened as she caught sight of a body. She picked up speed, damp boots squeaking on the sun-warmed stones. The man had clearly been stabbed several times, probably by a small blade or dagger. He was an old man, but dressed quite well. The cart had seemingly been picked clean of anything of value before it was put to the torch. The letter "B" had been carved into the burning wood, in an almost calligraphic manner.

Relt grabbed the prostrate man's wrist; it was cold, and it was clear that his heart had long-since ceased to beat. She lay it back down gently, and strolled quietly back to the beetle. "There appears to have been some sort of highwayman or brigand attack up ahead," her voice terse, "A man has been killed rather violently. Find something to use as a shovel and begin digging a grave while I ensure that the threat has vacated the area. Ask the child with the tortoise and book for assistance, if you like."

Lowering her goggles back down over her eyes, the group-captain withdrew her kukri and held it at the ready by her shoulder. She crept into the undergrowth, ears tuned to any sound that may present itself. Something was deeply wrong in the formerly welcoming woods, and a man had died for greed. Her eyes were in the here and now, but her mind was back in the Ardennes. There was a threat, and she was a soldier, and it was her duty even here to sort it out.

[Othar Almenneran]

I know this is out of posting order but I'm going on holiday on tuesday and so will be unable to post again until sunday so I thought this the best course of action to allow you boh to post again.

Othar was irritated that the woman had seemingly ignored all his protests about beng her sevant again. Nonetheless, she was at least making use of her self by scouting the area. Although he felt his skills would be better suited to the task. Readying his claws, he started to dig a shallow grave to bury the murdered cart-driver. He flicked his antenna around as he worked, the two peripheral appendages moving indepently of each other. Using his senses he roamed the surrounding woodland. He could detect the haughty woman's presence off to his left as she engaged the undrgrowth and he could feel the turtle and his youthful master behind him. A constant sound of clattering claws and insectile buzzing underscored all else. Othar's backplate was starting to heat as he felt the sun on it. The warmth spread through him as the large plate absorbed the solar energy. He hoped the heat wouldn't last as he was baking beneath his rigid exoskeleton.

Suddenly, at the edge of his consciousness, Othar detected a faint movement. It was too big to be any normal woodland creature and he knew where his companions were. It moved with decided butunskilled stealth through the forest. Othar would've missed the sounds if he had not been focused. Ceasing his digging, he looked up and chittered a loud warning to the woman. She might be an annoyance but she had more of the erotic tomes. And there was always the chance of mating...

[sweet_oblivion]

Dino followed the two from a distance. He had finished the physical examination of the creature but there was plenty more research left for him. He had no idea how this creature had come into being, but he could find out easily, either by questioning it or waiting for it to die and dissecting its remains. It seemed to be on a tight schedule with this woman and to keep form causing any confrontation Dino saw it best to allow the creature to finish its prior engagement before he bothered it any further.

For the time being he planned on simply following the beetle-man and watching its lifestyle. If this creature did prove to be a pinnacle in his research then he would need to know about any flaws if its genetic code were to be used in his research. Of course he would have to do a lot more research into actually understanding what a genetic code truly was but all the boy had was time on his side.

Upon Genbu's shell Dino watched the creature diligently, not taking his sight off it at all and fighting any obstruction of his vision violently, as even blinking has become a nuisance to his watchful eye upon this new found specimen. Genbu soon came to a stop, much to Dino's surprise. The tortoise mentioned something about destroyed wagon. Dino could have held more care for a random stool sample.

Unfortunately, the group ahead decided to stop for reasons unknown. The boy decided to wait it out upon the bridge, as it seemed sturdy enough to sustain the tortoise weight and if they needed to escape they could easily charge through most anything that obstructed either way.

[Yari Rafanas]

To the normal observer, a scene of a smoldering wagon and a murdered elder would have looked horrific. To a normal adventuring Althanian, it could even appear commonplace. After all, Concordia was a place of ever-present danger, masked by nature's alluring beauty. If one did not expect the random encounter with a group of thieves, their ignorance would likely lead to their untimely end. The elegantly-dressed victim was different, though.

When asked for his gold or his life, the old man's stubbornness and arrogance brought forth his true colors. Standing from his seat, letting loose the one horse that drew his cart, the man revealed himself as a sorcerer of great skill and experience. He did so with a flurry of powerful magics (of the searing flame variety) directed at his sole attacker. When a young brigand is faced with such a foe, there is little a bargaining smirk and a few verbal threats can do. Thus, this particular encounter ended with a the charred remains of the mage's vessel and the survivor's signature carved beautifully into a piece of wood for all to know who left this ground standing.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though this battleground had been discovered much sooner than the thief had expected. Though irritating, this presented him with another opportunity to line his pockets with their gold and other valuables.

Taydrius “Yari” Rafanas lay off the beaten path, sunken into the shadows of the smaller trees. He watched quietly, having ceased the counting of his gold, at the group of misfits stumbling on to the scene. Though most of them appeared unique, their demeanor was nothing new to the young man. There was one, however, that piqued his interest. The ugly, monstrous individual, covered in natural armor akin to the bugs that crawled rotten bark not only seemed stronger than the others, but also the most aware. As if on queue with this realization, the werebeatle chattered his warning to the others. He would need to be the first to go.

Now, while they are divided.

From the shrubbery there emerged the Bandit King. His slender, athletic form was fit tightly with dark leathers and worn vlince, the former riddled with prevalida studs that now caught the sun with enough intensity to draw the attention of any nearby. A head of wild hair flew in the wind, revealing a scruffy face with a rather malicious grin and a pair of sharp blue eyes fixated on his the bugman before him. Each of Yari's steps was quicker than the last, the grace of and speed of his movement an unrivaled site.

“Welcome to my forest,” taunted the revealed brigand.

Unarmed for now, the bandit closed in on the werebeatle and aimed a powerful backhand towards the ugly maw of the monster. The heavy metal studs across his gauntlet should be taste-enough of the King's power.

[Othar Almenneran]

The blue-eyed bandit slid from between the trees. Even Othar, in his short time out of the comfort of his school had heard the whispers of this legendary figure. The Bandit king stood tall and grinned. His attention seemed focussed on Othar and his taunt rang out in the smoky clearing.

Despite his keen senses, Othar had not realised that the prowler was a human, expecting at most a wolf or some such thing, and was caught completely off guard by the attack. The thief's powerful fist flew towards his eyes. In a desperate attempt to protect all four of his delicate visual aids, he turned his head and backed away from the approaching hand.

The studded glove still connected with the chitinous covering on the sie of his head. The leathery skin absorbed some of the blow but he felt an almighty crack in his head plate where one of the studs punctured the chitin. Sprawling sideways into the floor, he skidded on the side of his face before coming to a rest. His head spun and the bandit blurred as he looked at him. Hoisting himself onto his hands and knees, Othar spat blood and pus in the direction of the 'king'. His head spun and he steadied himself before attempting to rise to his hooved feet.

[Relt PeltFelter]

It was certainly a unique sound which was produced when a man punched a bipedal beetle. A resonant sort of clicking sound, like a titan clipping its toenails. Relt heard it clearly from only a few yards away, in the branches of an oak that must have first put down roots when William the Conqueror took England. Relt examined the violent interloper, wind buffeting her short hair as it carried his rather pungent scent towards her. Was hygiene unheard of in this beastly place? It was forgivable that an arthropod anthropoid smell of un-mucked stables, but a grown man? Clearly the shower would be the first thing Relt would give these people, on behalf of England.

Scratch that; the second thing. The first gift would be to eliminate this common thug. Her palm itched for her service revolver, but without a damned bullet it would be as useful as a bottle-opener to a budgerigar. She rifled through the pockets of her flying jacket; there must be a spare bullet lodged in the old thing somewhere! Her finger brushed against something cool; the sterile iciness of metal. She yanked the thing from her pocket, held her closed fist to her face, opened her fingers to reveal...

Half a quid in change. Not even enough for a packet of naan bread, much less enough to fire a pistol. She sighed and was about to put it back when a particular glimmer caught her eye; a bit of that quid was a shilling, shiny and silver as anything ever has been. That coin was her first earnest payment as a member of what was then called the Royal Flying Corps. Handed to her honestly, too, with none of that slipping it into a drink and press-ganging the poor stooge into service, as sly recruiters once did. Hold on...perhaps there was the seed of a scheme in that.

When you were a pilot trained to fly what was essentially a steam-powered torpedo with wings on, designed to move at a speed faster than sound travels through air, you learn to form a plan quickly. If you can't, then you typically wind up being little more than a wet smear on a long stretch of moor. Relt smiled as the seed grew into a cunning plan. Eyes on the newly arrived young man, who in other circumstances may have been considered rather handsome in a rakish sort of way (smell excluded, of course), the soldier stowed her kukri and stepped heavily out of the old oak. Hands held upward in the universal sign of disarmament, she strode towards him.

"I say, it is so good to meet a man who finally knows what the bleeding hell is going on in the world. New to the area and all that," Relt's left eyelid twitched, a wink so fast one would be hard pressed to even call it that. She delicately withdrew her pittance of coinage and held it out, the emerging sun sending glimmers off of the impeccably milled edges. "Now, you seem like a trustworthy young chap, and I judge myself to be an exceptional judge of character. If you would kindly cease your battering of that walking prawn, I'd gladly pay you for your services as a, shall we say, native guide."

"These coins are pure silver, worth more than you can count," she lied smoothly, "All I need from you is the location of the nearest town and your word. Of course, there's much more where this came from."

[Yari Rafanas]

The werebeetle bounced off Yari's gauntlet as expected, thrown to the dirt near the body of the dead mage and the pothole of a grave started by the insect. The thief halted his assault, opting not to follow through with any further aggression towards the monster. Instead, his eyes shot a threatening glance towards the turtle-rider off near the bridge. He would be next.

Yari only managed one confident step in that direction before stopping abruptly. He lifted his boot, a trail of wet gunk begging to keep his foot from detaching from the ground. Bile of some sort, still fresh having been spit up from the persistent bug. Perhaps... further intimidation was required.

“Should've stayed put.”

The very same hand used to deliver the pride-obliterating punch from before slid to the bandit king's side, gripping a finned-handle to a dagger sheathed at his thigh. Slowly, the blade was revealed—a curved knife shaped like the man-eaters of the seas with mythril teeth yearning to feast on their dazed meal. Yari lifted the blade, steadily pointing it towards the werebeetle's face.

As chance would have it, the insect's ally decided to interrupt in what was perhaps the smartest move so far—surrender. Rafanas kept his weapon diligently fixated on the beetle, his head tilted in the direction of the obviously foreign (wasn't an accent from Corone, to say the least) woman and her dubious offer. The solitary coin, though admittedly shiny, served no true purpose to the king of thieves when he had already appropriated a bag of gold from the mage moments ago.

“You're right about a few things, girl,” he replied. “I do know what's goin' on and I am definitely beating the hell out of your bug-friend here, but you're stupid to think I'd be willing to act as some sort of scout or guide for a group of adventurers wandering aimlessly through my forest.”

He chuckled to himself, lifting his free hand in a dismissive, arrogant shrug.

“In my forest, I make the deals and here's how it'll go. Leave all your valuables here and I'll send your little misfit troop towards the nearest rotten city where you and all your buddies can go down a pint with some Coronian guard too stupid or too scared to come protect you from me. Then you can all laugh it off and rest easy, sitting comfy under imperial rule, without a coin to your name, while all the rich fools enjoy your tax money. Sound like a plan?”

[Relt PeltFelter]

Relt frowned slightly; it hadn't been a particularly good plan anyway. More of a crazy scheme, really, and it almost certainly wouldn't have worked with this hardened criminal. The idea was to give him the shilling, tell him he'd been recruited and hope that somehow he would go along with it; terrible. Even the recruiters of the old days had a couple of stout lads nearby to drag the poor sod down to the office. Relt had a beetle and a man with a tortoise, and the nearest recruitment office was worlds away.

With a shrug, Relt stashed the coins, and strode slowly toward the hardened criminal. "Well, I'd be lying if I thought you'd be taken in by that, as long as we're being perfectly candid. You know, you remind me of someone; see, I was at Versailles at the end of the war, part of an honor guard. I'm rather well known, back home; there aren't a lot of steam-jet pilots with breasts as magnificent as my own, much less any who've shot down ten zeppelins.

"So the German lads, if boys with mechanical claws even count as lads, recognized me just fine. One of them heaved a rock at me, but it's tough to aim when one of your eyes is a bleedin' camera, so it went wide. I laughed it off, then; stiff upper lip for the press, keep the side up for Her Majesty, all that. But he had a look on his face, an awful lot like the one on yours now, that told me he'd never learned when to quit."

Relt had withdrawn the kettle of still-boiling tea from her kit, and calmly poured herself a cup. "So that night," she continued, "When he thought he was safe in his tent, I had one of my men tie a line 'round his left leg, and the other end 'round the landing gear of my plane. One minute he's dreaming of dirndls and beer steins, the next he's dangling fifty meters over the grounds of Versailles, being towed along faster than anything human has any business moving. I circled the palace a few times, then cut him loose over the Channel."

The rattly, draining sound of Relt taking a long sip of tea carried rather well in the suddenly rather quiet forest. By this point in her speech, she was only a few inches from the violent young man. She lowered the cup and prepared to pour another from the piping-hot kettle, and winked at the bandit; a real wink, this time, with a rather lascivious cast to it. "I can see you're not all that interested, so I suppose my point is twofold; firstly, I'm not a person you would want to cross. Secondly...tea?"

With a rapid wrist motion, an over-filled cup of boiling tea was dashed directly toward the crotch of Yari Rafanas.

[Yari Rafanas]

The foreigner chose words to define her abilities.

Faster than anything human has any business moving, she described. The bandit king smirked at the thought. This foreign commander, lost in his forest, had no idea the man she had encountered would shatter her definition of speed. The power he held within his form. The strength. The skill. He could hardly wait to see the look on her face when he put her to test.

The thief chose actions.

His knees bent slightly and his toes dug into the ground below in anticipation. His eyes watched as the cup left the foreigner's lips and was replaced by a certain mischievousness he had come to love in people. Intrigued as he was, Rafanas was well aware how these things started and how he planned to end them. First would come the surprise attack.

The hot beverage hung in the air, droplets spreading wide in hopes of catching one of the most valued treasures of the brigand. They would find only the cool air before they splashed against the trail, scalding the dirt and not hidden jewels. A blink and a half later, and Yari appeared to the woman's left, just out of arms reach...

Faster than anything human had business moving, he moved.

Next came the counter. Yari let his foot answer with an implied “no thanks” as he kicked upwards, aiming to knock the kettle back at its keeper.

[sweet_oblivion]

((OOC: Sorry for my absence. This research paper was kicking my ass, simply put and I had some none althanas world (the boring one) things to attend to.))


Violence. No matter where he turned, no matter where he went, Dino would only find violence. The so called sentient races of Althanas were truly barbaric. He had no intention of interfering with anything that had to do with the beetle, simply studying its life style for the day, maybe a second if his schedule would allow it and then going on his way, but this thief was obviously not going to allow this. Out of nowhere he had attacked the beetle and turned his sights toward Dino and Genbu before having his attention drawn by the arrogant woman that had requested the beetle-mans services.

Bribery was of course not going to work on someone who intended on simply stealing your money in the first place, much less simple trick that even Dino with his little fighting ability could easily evade. He of course evaded even easier. For some stupid reason had decided to intervene. Weighting a good amount as one would expect clothing lined with a thin layer of iron, the mantle which Dino wore was hurled, of course no longer on his person, toward the attacker as he struck at the beetles employer.

From the Tome of Knowledge Dino had plucked the cerulean crystal and began to pump his spirit through it. He could feel the strain on his very spirit as the crystal transformed into a plane whip aside from the beautiful gem that adorned its handle. His skills were of course no where near that of any competent user, but any idiot could learn to use something with enough practice, and Dino believed he had practiced plenty up to this point. The test would be if he could perform offensively without harming himself. Bring his arm back slightly and then fling his wrist, the length of spiritually formed leather stretched out, aimed for the thief. The end would reach its mark well before the flying mantle did, but it was not actual contact Dino was attempting.

Like any whip, the weapon would crack prior to recoil creating a sonic boom. The beauty behind the Ceruleo Orchestra was that this sonic boom was much more powerful than one would find in an ordinary whip. With his current skill and power, the shock wave would be nothing more then a push but he doubted anyone was fast enough with one foot in the air to dodge the speed of sound. To boot, if the whip were to connect that would add insult to injury and there was still a soaring hunk of iron to watch out for. Being in such situations before, Genbu was already prepared. Moving at speeds faster than the average man would ever hope to achieve in his life time, two hundred and fifty pounds of shell would come rushing in on the attacker once Dino's attack were determine success or fail.

[Yari Rafanas]

Bunnying the pot. Sorry Spens.

A kick connected with the kettle, satisfying the King of Thieves, but only momentarily. As his momentum carried him forward with his attack, one leg firmly planted for balance, the violent young thief was made suddenly aware of his vulnerability. The stunning, explosive noise took hold of his form, shoving it away from the foreign woman. It was as if Concordia itself (still bitter at Yari for claiming her as his own) had decided it would toss away its forgotten son like some pathetic, handmedown doll it no longer wanted to play with. The feeling of weightlessness and lack of control was only temporary for the brigand, however, as he rolled onto his shoulder and dug his toes into the path to halt his tumble. A half a second later, he was crouched and ready, now positioned with his back against the smoldering debris of the wagon and his solitary shark sword held forward.

His eyes fixated on the turtle-rider from before. He was moving quickly now—and armed. It was obvious he was the source of the attack.

The dagger found its way back to its sheath at Yari's side as he stepped forward to meet the charging reptile and its over-confident master. As the pair barreled towards the thief, he counted their steps and calculated their speed (impressive as it was for such a creature) allowing him just enough time to explode from his sprint and flip gracefully into the air over the shelled beast. Hanging high and upside down at the apex of his leap, Rafanas threw his arms downward in a sweeping motion. Extending from the tip of his fingers was a barrage of glowing spheres, accompanied by trails of potent magic, spreading wide below their battlefield. The orbs of light were heavy, with an unnatural weight, peppering the ground were each of the wanderers were. If any one of them connected, space and time would weigh down on their minds, bodies, and souls.

The thief landed deftly after his magic crashed against the road, his smirk replaced by an almost irritated grimace.

“Don't be too hasty. The name Yari Rafanas stretches all of Corone for a very damn good reason and you don't want me to show you why. Last chance to surrender, or it'll be your lives.”

Leaden Light from profile.

[Relt PeltFelter]

Not a problem; like I could have done anything about it anyways.

The kettle clattered against the stones of the river bank, tea gurgling from the open spout like rainwater through a drainpipe. It took Relt a moment to realize what exactly had happened; she picked up the teapot and examined it, finding it undamaged save for a slight, boot-shaped dent. The man had somehow kicked the teapot upward, striking the pilot in the goggles; the left lens was cracked, and there was certain to be a bruise around her eye, as though some cheeky devil had painted 'round a telescope eyepiece with shoe polish. She removed the goggles and rubbed the already reddening flesh, then stowed both the goggles and the tea kettle in her kit.

The man had wasted little time in engaging himself against the bizarre fellow with the turtle. Relt clenched her fist at the young man's arrogance, but it was clear that this bizarre man had her outmatched, at least, for the moment. Perhaps this could be turned to an advantage; after all, hadn't the Hun and the Brits played football together one dreary Christmas morn? "Clearly, sir, you have all of us at your mercy. I offer a temporary armistice, wherein we will accede to your demands. However, as a Group Captain in Her Majesty's Royal Air Force, I insist that I be escorted to your forward base of operations and permitted to negotiate there, directly with the leader of your organization of ne'er-do-wells, presuming there is such an individual.

"As a token of my good will, I will turn over to you my weapon, and the only thing which appears to have uniform value in this world; this copy of the January 1915 issue of 'Plump Rump', in which a bevy of young ladies have been photographed in the altogether, displaying their ample behinds for all to ogle." Relt held the magazine out invitingly in her left hand, and her kukri, by the blade, handle out, in the other. "Do we have a bargain, Mister...Rafanas, did you say?"

We're gettin' close to the end, folks; if there's anything you feel you need to get in, do it ASAP.

[Othar Almenneran]

Othar had pulled himself to his feet and watched the ensuing exchange between the strange accented woman and the king of thieves. He felt a definitive sense of happiness at the bandit's ability to put the posh woman in her place. However, his face was still smarting from where the large man had planted his fist. Once again he spat blood into the grass, loudly enough to remind the others of his prescence. he was aware that these people disdained him and it infuriated him.

Before the magical accident that had robbed him and his heart-mate of their humanity he had been respected, if not loved by his peers. A righteous indignation at his fate rose up within him and he had to hold himself back to stop from attacking the stubby woman again.

Although the thief had made it quite clear that he would attack any of the party that angered him, the turtle-riding boy charged the underworld lord in a fit of false bravado. The spheres that rained around the surrounding area fell well short of Othar and he was astonished to see that, even in light of all that had happened, the ice-bitch woman was still attempting a treaty. And worse, she was offering the last of her favourable picture books. A strangled cry escaped his mouthpiece.

Stepping towards the woman he spoke in his rasping, chittering way.
'It's hopeless you know' He indicated the fighting bandit with a single chitinous claw. Clicking his shoulders, he settled on the grass to watch the fight that was taking place. By refraining from taking advantage of her beng off-guard with her weapon he hoped to gain at least the other tome... Every instinct that drove him was telling him to attack her again but he wrestled his human side to the surface and restrained himself.

[sweet_oblivion]

"You both really are idiots." Dino shook his head. His reaction time was obviously much slower than it had been, but he was faster than the average human so though a great inconvenience his speech would not suffer terribly. "When someone gives you the chance to run you talk it. Try to remember that next time friend, alright?" Dino placed his hand on the beetle-mans shoulder and gave a kind grin before turning to the thief and woman.

"You really should listen to your companion and keep quiet, your unnecessary babble is quite annoying and useless. In any case." Dino pulled a decent sized money bag off of his person and tossed it to the thief. "Two hundred and thirty-six gold you will find in there, for safe passage as I hope that covers your toll. Don't see why you believed a creature such as this would own anything to his name, but hopefully my starvation is enough to cover the both of us, and her offerings will do the same." Dino rolled his eyes showing he was quite uninterested as he sighed.

He pulled himself on to the tortoise, as Genbu stepped to his side and turned in the direction he believed town to be in. There was no reason for anyone to believe he had any more currency on him then what he had given from appearances, and aside from a stray twenty gold or so hidden on his person, the rest was in a well kept place. The whip returned to crystal form in his hand and was placed back in its holding slot on the tome worn around his waist as the tortoise walked to the boys mantle and picked it up with its jaws before turning to hand it to him. He quickly, or as quickly as the magic would allow, dawned the armor and began to set out, hopefully done with todays mugging.

[Yari Rafanas]

Hopeless? Yari repeated the idea to himself as the werebeetle complained. The thief was both appreciative and surprised that the creature could speak in human tongue and that he had the brains to realize that the trio had been beaten. However, he disagreed. There was hope in this situation. What would be remembered by any potential observers as just a random encounter with a ruffian ruler was more than meets the eye. These three souls (though Yari could sense a fourth, hidden and small), misguided and as lost as they may be, carried a sense of determination and uniqueness that the King of Thieves respected. In a way, he also sought to collect such individuals—of their own free will, of course—and invite them to a brotherhood where freedom and want reign supreme.

Rafanas tucked the dirty magazine under his arm and grasped the short blade from the foreigner, smirking as he did so. His other hand caught the gold offering from the turtle-rider and stowed it away next to the purse stolen from the dead mage on his belt. Satisfied with this offering, Rafanas gave a slight nod to the boy as he rode his steed into the woods. His attention returned to the two that remained, mostly directed to the foreign woman.

While it was not uncommon to see a misplaced individual such as her to make claims of importance and rank so flippantly, Yari knew from experience that immense armies could seemingly emerge out of Althanas' shadows at any given moment. Hell... Should the town name of 'Gisela' ever roll of the tongue of a tournament organizing committee then one should expect to see hundreds of thousands of faceless soldiers crawling Corone in a heartbeat. Should she be trusted and led to the heart of Concordia? Perhaps the question was 'Should she be angered further?'

“Deal,” Yari answered, deciding on the former. “We'll talk at my place. You on the other hand...”

Rafanas turned his attention to the werebeetle, making sure not to appear to threatening, ensuring that his recently-acquired weapon was resting gently at his side. “Your friend is wandering off towards Underwood. It's not exactly a haven for the Empire, but it's also not very friendly to outlaws. Follow him if you want to have fun avoiding trouble with a racist or monster-slaying mercenary. Follow your outlandish girlfriend as she follows me and maybe you'll be treated to a haven for the unique—a sanctuary for those seeking freedom and unity through want.”

The King of Thieves turned his back and began walking off the path and into the the welcoming arms of his forest. He passed the wreckage from the wagon and smiled at the stylized 'B' carved into the wood.

“Your choice.”

Assuming there are no complications with score: requesting gold from the dead mage, Relt's kukri crafted of steel, yak hide, and yeti hair, the dirty magazine, and gold in the amount deemed appropriate from Dino.

[Relt PeltFelter]

For what seemed like the first time in ages, a genuine smile appeared on Relt's face, bruised though it may be. This all made her think of that misbegotten hunting expedition for the mysterious Sasquatch of America; a wood-ape of enormous scale and gentle demeanor. It didn't have nearly the capacity for setting things on fire that most of Relt's quarry did, and for these reason she hadn't been particularly excited.

It had taken weeks of trudging up and down mountains, enduring the intolerable accents that Americans foisted on the ears of civilized people, and not a decent cup of tea to be found. Finally, through sheer luck, the pilot had looked up from refilling her canteen at a stream to see the legendary Sasquatch. But once she looked the thing in the eye, it was just too damn man-like to shoot. This is an odd thing for a woman who has shot a dozen men to think. A moment later the great beast strode off into the wilderness, and wasn't seen again for the rest of the expedition.

The situation was not, on the face of it, all that similar to being brained with a tea kettle by a nimble scofflaw and surrendering, but Relt had that same feeling. After a vicious ordeal, completely out of her element, the simplest thing had vastly improved her demeanor; the depth and emotion of an upright ape's eyes, or a simple bit of military courtesy from a supernaturally violent rogue. Her destiny entrusted to a bandit's promise, she cheerfully strode off through the wilderness after the ignoble thief.

She spared the slavering beetle-man a polite nod before breaking into a steady march, keeping rhythm by humming an old soldier's song. She couldn't remember the name of it; the damn thing probably involved stealing either food or the other thing from a young maiden. Damn near every soldier's song involved stealing or maidens.

It was a now officially a nice afternoon in Concordia; the sun was cooking off the morning's damp, the cicadas were buzzing gently in the omnipresent trees. Relt PeltFelter had found something to occupy the almost limitless curiosity that a life of British nobility and soldiering had instilled in her: a new world. The shadows seemed to swallow her up as she marched towards the heart of the wood.

Othar, if you feel like cappin' this puppy, go right ahead. Otherwise, I'll send her off for judging.

[Othar Almenneran]

Othar stared at the retreating turtle with its rider, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. He wondered for a moment at what the strange boy had done to him, merely looked and made a picture in his tome. Seemingly, this world had more to offer than he had originally thought.

Although his deep-rooted arrogance hated to concede defeat, it was clear that the Bandit King had bested them. Indeed the thief-lord was offering him solace. While a trap could be suspected, the thief also lked the picture tomes of the accented woman and that indicated a base sort of trustworthiness.

Ekendra stood next to him in human form and echoed his thoughts, the transformation they had undergone had robbed Ekendra of a little of her childishness. Othar appreciated this as he felt she was now on his level of intellect and thus he listened to her words.

'This man seems to acknowledge our worth, even you would have to be blind to miss that!' Unfortunately she had also acquired aa biting wit, of which Othar was usually the target. Even so, she made a good point and he was loathe to alienate her further despite her numerous failings and irritations.

Othar looked at the retreating woman's back and then at Rafanas. Chittering angrily at the thought of having to submit to the thief again he accepted the offer and followed the tall man. The sun warmed his backplate and he felt himself heating uncomfortably under its glare. He mised the cool rainthat had been falling earlier from the branches. Another squirrel wandered across his field of vision and he grabbed it, a handful a damp moss coming free of the branch in its grip.

Ekendra fluttered around his head, her tiny insectile wings a blur as she shifted to her human projection and followed Yari Rafanas, almost mocking his assured stride. Othar growled a warning, half in irritation and half in amusement that the 'king' of Concordia was being mocked by a bug...

[Taskmienster]

Hey hey! I’ve claimed this thread, and will be judging it as quickly and efficiently as possible. I want to put a note that since there was no specifications as to how it would like to be judged I’m going to go with a limited commentary. If something stands out I’ll note it. If I note things by quotations I will put a number in brackets following it, which indicates which post it came from. As always, if either of you have any questions for me about the judgment or the comments, feel free to PM me or catch me on AIM (if I’m on at least, heh).

Continuity 5

Othar:

“antenna twitching” [2] ~ Why do you have antenna? Remember, that the reader that’s coming in without knowledge of your character has no clue what’s going on. Take the time to give quite a bit of background, in whatever way you can without being overly wordy and long winded, so that things like antenna on a “human” would not stand out so much.

Sweet Oblivion:

“Those aware of Dino's story so far would be very aware that the young man has an interest in a particular brand of alchemy he calls Bio Alchimia, in which the body of any living being is the focus of chemical manipulation for the most part although other things do share their role in the matter. It is quite a hard subject to follow as even I who holds a great deal of knowledge of the subject hardly understand it.” [8] ~ It’s an interesting way to come into a thread, but it could have been more tactfully done. First, I noted this in the continuity because it pertains mostly to your background. As a means of explaining the character, it does to a small degree… allowing the reader to know what it is that the character uses as far as skills or magic go. However, there is a lot missing, such as why are you there? What is it that you want with the group? Who is Dino?

Secondly, you switch from present tense in this passage into past tense later. Tense changes are a detracting factor against your writing. Also, you have a mistake in the fact that you go from third person to first person, though the opening of the paragraph is close to resembling something like second (though not exactly).

Setting 6

In the beginning, and sporatically throughout the thread, I got a bit of the setting. However, it was almost forgotten for the majority of the thread. I’d suggest throwing it in, or taking the time to write some advanced technique in order to engage the setting more effectively.

Pacing 7

The pacing was brilliantly done, despite being slowed by mechanical and clarity errors, as well as lack of technically advance writing. From the time I started this thread, to the time I finished I was drawn in. All in all well done, though more could have been added to it in order for it to be closer to perfect.

Dialogue 6

Relt: Dialogue is either your strongest suit, or second strongest barely behind persona. The characters speech is hilarious and fits the personality that you displayed extremely well.

Othar:

“'Inferior to your own, indeed!' His voice contained as much sarcasm as was possible in his now buzzing voice. 'Our world contains much that you could not imagine.' Not that I have the pleasure of its company he thought bitterly, but at least the gods had provided this play-thing to amuse himself with.” [6] ~ When you write dialogue, it is normally preferred if you would put actual quotes (“[text]”) instead of apostrophes (‘[text]’). Also, if you are going to put internal dialogue into a paragraph, it’s best if you set it aside somehow. As it stands in this quote, it goes from unclear spoken word to unknown inner dialogue until you put “thought bitterly”. The easiest way to overcome this problem is first, as is common rule to writing, separate different portions of dialogue so that they don’t run together. It’s best to start a new paragraph for different thoughts, or a difference in spoken and internal thought.

The second thing I’d suggest, which is common for Althanas as well as some authors, put the thoughts in italics as well as quotations like you would spoken word. The italics signify the different between spoken and internal dialogue. The quotes are standard as said above.

Action 6

Othar: You get angry and get turned on? That’s really strange and didn’t make any sense…

Persona 6

Othar: Like I commented in the continuity area about your antenna, the other things are very relevant as well. The reader doesn’t know who Othar is… or why he looks the way he does. Remember, it’s necessary to explain that you have four eyes, wings, and whatever else strange things are important to the personality and appearance of the character.

Relt: Your personality remained consistent, and awesomely written. I couldn’t help but feel like the woman was a real person, engaging and easy to see as a dynamic and round person.

Technique 6

Sweet Oblivion: You need to do the same thing that I told Othar to do, separate paragraphs when you start new dialogue. You have up to three lines of dialogue, spoken word – response – response, in the same paragraph. The differences between characters speaking is paramount to importance for understanding who’s saying what and the response.

Mechanics 5

Othar: When you are writing, take the time to look over the post and make sure that you have written things correctly. You have numerous times when you misspelled words, or generally forgot a word. If you have the chance, the best thing I’ve found that helps is to read it out loud and correct it as you go. When you read things outloud you’ll notice the issues much easier. Also, don’t edit right away. With the post JUST written you tend to automatically edit things since you know what it should say, so your mind makes the changes without you noticing at times. Also, a writing program like Word would help as well.

“It had been two weeks since the catastrophic incident that had left him beyond recognion, even to his own mother. Not that she would want to recognise him like this.” [2] ~ “recognion” should be “recognition” and “recognise” should be “recognize”.

Sweet Oblivion: Take the time to do what I suggested to Othar as well. You have more of a problem with using comma’s correctly though. They were missing numerous times.

Clarity 6

Othar: Make sure that you separate your paragraphs so that they don’t all get muddled together. It’s hard to follow and read at times if they’re not separated. Just makes it look like one big clump, which is difficult to keep clear at times.

Wild Card 59

Sweet Oblivion: Your opening post was… well… about 1/2 bunnying of the other people. That’s a no no. You did it again in the next post too. Don’t bunny.

Relt: You had so many funny moments in your writing it drew me in more and I loved it. Plus, your haiku for the judging request was funny.

Score: 60

Rewards:

Relt: 650 exp | 150 gold
((Loss of knife, as well as both dirty magazines… what a loss indeed!))

Sweet Oblivion: 575 | -100 gold
((Loss of gold subtracted from what you would have gained… or round about that much))

Othar: 625 exp | 110 gold
((Gaines the dirty mag, WOOHOO))

Yari: 1900 exp | 300 gold
((Gained the blade from Relt, money from Sweet Oblivion added to the total, and most importantly the 1915 porno… what fun!))

exp and gp added or removed