Veteran Bracket R2: Taskmeinster vs. Sumner

[Tainted Bushido]

This match begins Friday 9/4/2009 at 12:00 AM and will end on 9/19/2009 at 12:00 AM.

Best Wishes.

[Sumnner]

The air was still, a silent blanket wrapping itself around his body, suffocating him slowly even as it nourished his blood with necessary oxygen. His mouth was slightly open, the glistening white of his teeth shining brightly in the early morning light. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed ever so slightly; he was, at once and for the first time in a very long time, completely at peace.

His finger tips, gently brushing the air around him, touched the cool surface of the water that surrounded him. His mouth twitched, the beginnings of a smile forming, than fading almost as quickly as it came, and his eyes opened slowly. Crystal clear water, pale blue and glowing in the sunlight beaming down from the heavens, stretched in every direction away from him, fading into finality as a distant shimmer of white mist and pale blue sky. It rose from a bedrock of smooth river stones, all jumbled together as if thrown by some greater power but at the same time, looking as if they belonged there. He was standing in what might have been the center, if there was a center to this place, this place of seemingly infinite distances. The water rose to just shy of his middle thigh and not a hair higher, or lower. He was the only living thing there, as far as he could tell, and he hadn't moved an inch since finding himself standing in it. It was just too peaceful, too calm to warrant disturbing the glass like surface of the water. The smile that had been itching at the corners of his mouth finally formed, and he slowly slid his eyes closed.

He paused for only a moment before softly singing, his voice carrying across the smooth surface of the water with greater force than any artificial amplifier could ever do. It was an empty song, devoid of words or meaning of any kind, but filled with sound. Sweet, wonderful, glorious sound and it all at once, filled his consciousness, surrounded him, swelled his soul, completed him. Slowly, the all encompassing press of the still air around him was banished and after a few moments, he felt free.

Finally free and utterly at peace. Nothing could disrupt the joy he felt welling up in his heart at that moment, in that place.

Nothing.

[Taskmienster]

Around me there was nothing but the open expanse of immensity, devoid of life either flora or fauna. Overhead the sun cast its warming rays, the water reflecting the light to glisten as far as I could see. I dipped my toe in the warm blue expanse for the first time, letting the tips of my soft shoe slip into the silent ocean. Ripples of disturbance pierced the serene pool and sent out waves that caused the glittering light on the surface to dance like diamonds. The gateway I had arrived through was an open portal of darkness surrounded by soft white light. I rested on the thin edge of my doorway, my hands holding to the cold light while I languidly dangled one leg on the tip of the water. To jump in or not? It was a question that was not one of significance. There was no choice in the end; I would have to take the plunge.

I pushed off my bent knee, my support, my platform of waiting resignation. Battle had become a trite form of gaining honor, a singularly offered means to an end I desired. The tournament, the Magus Cup, was my ticket, my payment that was required for me to be accepted. I, unlike others that joined such silly tournaments, was not fighting for prestige, for power, or for tangible profits. Althanas was a game to me, not just in the metaphorical sense. Some would see the world as I did; a virtual reality getaway for those whose interests were in the fantasy setting. It was a vacation from reality, an escape from the material world to one of pixilation and freedom from common constraints.

TechFront INC., the company that had created the illustrious world that I was playing this game in, had summoned me to this place. At first, my frequent visits were mere bothers to the company. I had forced my way into the world through means other than those provided, means that were by all rights possibly illegal. I had been harried through every means possible, from the Althanas staff’s harassment of my every move to the small glitches that had followed my every step. Chasing me around had grown old for the company; it had brought about their final gambit. They had contact me at my home, in the real life outside of Althanas, and told me to take part in the Magus Cup and prove myself and my abilities.

“No sudden messages this time, no contact with a letter explaining their intent. It’s as if they need nothing more than an “enter” button when I attempt to log in. Click that, and I’m looking through a gateway to this water world. Fuckin’ stupid.”

The water splashed around me when I jumped in, thigh deep it immediately soaked everything. The water slowly rose up my jeans, spreading upwards and dampening as the medium blue cloth became deeper in coloration. I stroked the water’s surface with my fingers as I moved forwards, the gateway closing and disappearing behind me. Break the peace, taint the pure blues with the crimson of my opponent, claim my victory and continue through the ladder, that was my purpose.

“Hey there, bro.”

I placed my thumbs into my belt and cocked my arms, the elbows bent but my jacket just loose enough to allow the hidden weapons within leeway should I need them. Everyone on the server had their quirks, their specialties, characteristics and means of combat that were always unexpected. I did not doubt that the man before me would be no different.

[Sumnner]

His wordless melody cut off abruptly, like a knife slicing through a thin rope, as he became aware of another presence in the vast water world surrounding him. The water rippled lazily at the others movement, reflections of sunlight dancing across the tips of the tiny waves like a hundreds of thousands of tiny stars glittering in a clear, moonless night. His arms slowly sank to the rippling waves, finger tips lightly brushing the highest points, resting there a moment before sinking down into the water. His skin tingled at the touch of the cool water and he shivered once before the tingling ceased. Spoken words reached his ears then and he slowly turned his head to gaze blankly at the person that had disturbed his peace.

The man, it was obvious, was dressed in much the same manner as he himself was dressed, save the clothing was of a different cut and material. Perhaps it was simply the style that made him think the two were dressed similarly, or perhaps it just bore a certain familiarity about it. All the same, he suddenly felt a strange bond with this, other man, one that he hadn't felt yet with any other person. It was almost as if they hailed from the same place, perhaps had even grown up near to one another. It was an interesting concept, but like so many of his thoughts recently, it was only fleeting and it fled almost as quickly as it had come. His eyes narrowed, the clothes a forgotten memory now, and he took in the mans features and build.

The man was a rather boring looking individual, with a rather nondescript face and body tones, not hardly anything that screamed fighter, scholar or scientist. Rather, the mans features spoke of the mundane, the lazy and bored. A small smile crept onto his face and he felt his hands beginning to twitch beneath the water. Perhaps this wasn't such an unfortunate intrusion after all. Perhaps he could finally put to the test that strange illusion he had recently discovered.

Or perhaps, rediscovered. The thought gave him pause, but it too quickly ran into the dark recesses of his mind before he could fully contain it and he was once again left smiling quite madly at the man standing before him, his fingers twitching. His mouth opened and words pored forth before he could think of what to say.

"You see nothing but a great ocean, no life, no other living person, nothing." The words crawled from his mouth, the power of the illusion thick in the air as they raced toward the other mans ears. In his eyes a great Eel, gray and smoothed skinned, its eyes glittering like tiny black orbs stuck fast into a smooth gray facade, slithered forth from his body and coiled itself around the other mans skull, slowly sinking into his flesh until it disappeared whole. To the other, he would see none of those things save what had been spoken.

At least, that was how it was supposed to work.

[Taskmienster]

The man with his camouflage colored cargo pants was just as strange as I had expected. His clothes were soaked as much as mine were, but due to their loose fit I assumed he would have a bit more trouble pushing through the water. I looked at him for a little bit, taking in the very unique style that he assumed. His glasses and red-white striped shirt reminded me of Waldo from the kids book, a small note that made me chuckle. However, much like my own clothing, he was not someone from the world of Althanas. I slid a thumb to the large belt buckle while my opposite hand rose to toy with the pure white fur lining of my leather jacket.

“Dude, I have no clue what you’re blabbin’ on about. If you haven’t noticed, what you said is what I’m seein’ anyway… so thanks for the obvious I guess? ‘Cept, for the fact, that you are a living person I see, si?”

I took a few steps to get used to the water, the way it moved around me, and how my pants became even tighter when I shifted. It was not something that was too much different than what I was used to, since my jeans were size one girl jeans to begin with. Being wet was little more than a half-noticed discomfort.

Whatever the man could do, whatever he had planned, I was not interested in waiting. Instead of playing around, I let my arms fall and two daggers fell with them. A smooth, rounded steel handle found the center of my palm. It was comforting and I always enjoyed the way the cold steel felt against my sweating palms. Both blades were launched without a word or more movement. No flair or flash, no fancy words, just a roll of the dice to see the outcome.

[Sumnner]

Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He noticed it almost immediately, as his attention was focused in its entirety on the other mans face, studying his eyes, lips, cheeks, everything for any sign of the confusion he had hoped to implant there. There was nothing, nothing except perhaps, amusement. As if he were staring at a stupid, or annoying person that he was very soon going to give a piece of his mind, and not in a gentle, caring manner.

The other man spoke and he sensed that the gift of the other mans piece of mind was near at hand. His body tensed and waited, his mind racing, his nerves exploding in anticipation. The other mans words finally stopped poring forth from his mouth and he saw his arms twitch; that was when he knew the piece of mind was coming. He twisted to the right, his back arching forward as he sensed more than saw the two knife blades streak through the air where his body had been moments before. He felt his eyes widen in a moment of fear and in that moment, panic took over and questions raced unopposed through his consciousness.

What was he doing? Why was he there? What had he hoped to achieve in this place? How could hope to ever win? Had he even ever wanted to win?

Something clamped down hard on the stray thoughts and they vanished like little puffs of smoke in a black room, quickly dispersing back into his clouded mind. His eyes narrowed, anger burning behind his emerald green iris' and his fists clenched. He was going to have to play the game differently with this man. His eyes burned emerald green flames as he rounded on the man and snarled silently. He had to get in close, but with the water resistance constantly pulling him down, he had to shed some of his heavier garments. The snarl twisted into a sneer and he arched himself backwards, diving into the water and swimming away from the other man for a few moments.

As soon as he finished his second backstroke, and still slightly submerged, he attacked his belt and pants. At the same time his toes kicked at the heels of his boots, slowly sliding them off of his feet. His buckled unlatched an instant later and he pulled his pants down over his boxers, around his boots and after only a few moments of yanking, pulled the boots and pants free of his body. His air supply quickly ran dry and his burning need to draw in new breath brought him back to the surface; perhaps he had taken longer than he had thought, or he was just moving around too much. He didn't know, but right then, he really didn't care to find out either; he had more important things in mind. Like, how was he going to stop that knife wielding man when all he had was his flesh? He immediately set about undoing the buttons of his red and white striped shirt; it's button down cut allowing for a much easier removal, even if it was soaked completely through. He was soon peeling the fabric away from his chest and back, letting it fall forgotten into the water around him, leaving him dressed only in his tank top undershirt and boxers.

A voice in the back of his mind, muted and nothing more than an annoying buzz really, screamed out from the black recesses and he smiled slowly. He had no need for steel, he had mans most ancient tried and true weapon of war. Rocks.

And rocks, in the long run, always won out against steel.

[Taskmienster]

Somehow, as if in a supernatural fit of unexpected prowess, the man twisted and contorted his body and avoided the two straight blades. It was not something I had not expected, not in the least. The first two were testers, merely diversionary in nature and designed to attempt to find how the opponent would react. Past battles had seen the sudden start to combat find the opponent, those times the steel blades had sunk in or opened wounds. The vast majority of the time, however, it was exactly as the man before he had done. The foe would twist, dodge, duck, or cast some spell and divert the blades from their body. Whatever means of avoidance the person chose would determine my own course of action from that point on.

This man, he was a coward. Not only did he remove himself from the path of the two weapons, but he also took flight immediately. It was as if he was already running from the combat, and neither him or me had even bled yet. Was I supposed to just sit there and watch him dive away and swim beneath the sun glinted waters? There was a multitude of abilities that I had that could potentially flounder the would-be fish, but I used none of them yet. Let him think my blades were my only allies in combat, let him think I was just a lackluster opponent with daggers up either sleeve. Those would be the least of his concerns when the time was right.

I let my eyes follow the boy, his movements and actions were sporatic. I understood the nature of his tactics, remove that which slows you down so that the water would be less of an omnipresent “third-foe”. It was something I thought of, but with my pants being so tightly clung against my legs, the resistance would be minimal at best.

“Now that you’ve stripped and made a bigger fool of yourself, how ‘bout we get this show on the road?”

My feet shifted and I let two more daggers drop to their places of comfort. The rounded handles were cupped in my hands. Whether the man saw them or not did not matter to me, they would be at the ready either way. I felt my legs tensing, felt my knees creek as I squatted a little and let the water rise to the bottom of the croch of my jeans. Overhead the sun beat endlessly, searing the nape of my neck. The battle needed to start, the pacing needed to pick up, the last thing I needed as an outcome was another foe who would not stand his ground and a sunburn.

[Sumnner]

The man was taunting him, goading him into attacking. Had he been in any other situation, he might have taken the mans offer, but as it stood now he was underpowered, and hadn't a clue as to how to proceed. He was lost, like some forlorn piece of driftwood, afloat in the endless ocean, no destination, and no means to get had he one in the first place. His fists clenched and he inched back a step, his mind racing to come up with a plan.

It was then he noticed the sharp sting near his lower back. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly and his mouth curved down into a small frown. What in the hell was that? All other thoughts suddenly seemed no so important as what was now bothering his back. Slowly he reached back to feel the source of the sting and it only intensified. He hissed sharply, and brought his hand back in front of him, blinking in confusion at the sight of crimson, diluted greatly by all the water in his tank top and around him, running down his fingers to cover his palm.

First blood. Somehow, strangely, he felt cheated, betrayed, like he had let down by himself. He wasn't supposed to bleed, he wasn't even supposed to feel pain. Was he? The question danced across his consciousness and then fluttered away, leaving only the emptiness that seemed to occupy his mind of late. He felt his mouth curve into a deeper frown and his eyes met that of the other man.

They were calm, unearthly calm, like he had already seen the results of this confrontation and knew well enough that there was no reason for him to be afraid. Perhaps there wasn't. Perhaps he had gotten himself in too deep this time, too deep to simply pull himself out and run, like he recalled always doing.

Running. That thought fluttered by and stuck, held fast in his mind as if it had been caught in a vice grip. His mouth turned back into a snarl, silent and perhaps not as menacing as he thought it was. He was always running.

"No more," he whispered, so low that even he was unsure if he had really said it. His eyes flickered past the man, across the water, and then down to his feet. Down to the river rocks, each no larger than his two fists together, spread all around his feet, stretching infinitely into the water beyond. A memory, of a moment that took place only seconds before, flickered to life in his mind.

Rocks. A small voice shouted warning that something was not right, in fact, it was most definitely wrong. How could he have forgotten? How easily that thought had slipped from his mind. Would this be what it was like, for this entire confrontation? His mind constantly drifting, never really focusing on anything?

The questions faded into obscurity once more and he stooped to grab a hold of a river stone that fit easily into his left hand. Perhaps if he could lure the man closer to him, without the other throwing those deadly blades of his. Maybe then, he might have a chance.

"You talk, and throw sharp metal objects at men you call fools. Perhaps it is you who is the fool, unwilling to engage in a close confrontation. Perhaps you are afraid, afraid that you might lose? Afraid and running from life's challenges, as you throw sharp objects of your shoulder, hoping to make them go away." The smile grew slightly. "Come then, fool of fools, face me hand to hand and whomever is still left standing can call the other men fools, and justly so."

The smile still plain on his lips, he slowly began advancing toward the other, his rock, his only weapon to speak of, raised for a killing strike.

Before anyone gets all, he powergamed missing those knives and mentioned it only because he was caught, know that it was part of the plan. Honestly, who realizes they've been cut, the instant it happens? =P Anyway, sorry for the OOC dealio.

[Taskmienster]

“I should write a book; “Life lessons learned from people that never existed”. It seems that I’m a fool for attacking with daggers, and that my entire life is a farce because some half-naked idiot thinks that being unarmed makes me a fool. Welcome to Althanas!”

I smirked as I toyed with my thoughts; almost laughed aloud at the prospect of what would come should I decide to write a book. I’m sure it would be nothing more than useless rabble, parables that made no sense and nothing useful to anyone outside of those that took the world too seriously. It would be a lot like the Song of Solomon, or the entire Bible for that matter. That did make me laugh, despite my opponent.

With a plastered smile I watched the man come at me, slowly through the waist high waters. In his hand he held a rock, nothing special or particularly interesting for me to note. It looked smooth, as if worn at the bottom of a riverbed. The still water of our environment could not have made it so perfect. My attention to detail slipped, and left. A rock against eight more throwing daggers and a few secreted blades… it seemed the word fool had been thrown around a lot but it was not going to be pinned on me last.

Instead of dodging, fleeing, or countering the man, I let him grow closer. I could see a trail of crimson following him as he dredged through the encumbering ocean. The wake of his movements spread the thin line to a point of nonexistence, but it was not an illusion. I had hit the man with one of my daggers, or maybe even both. The blade may have just skimmed him, may even have sunk in and stuck to his back, I had not seen any plunks on the surface behind him… but was not looking either.

When the rock was hurled downward at me, I swung. My balled fist was holding the rounded metal, the knuckles uneven. My aim was not for the rock, nor the man’s body, but for the wrist that he was holding his makeshift weapon in. Unnatural reflexes and speed were my allies, making time between the attacks longer than anyone would have suspected. Extra strength built up in my body, and my hand was not pushed with the force of a normal man, but one almost twice my size. My other hand reached out in a shallow arch, aimed for the man’s face. There was a point to be proven, a lesson to be taught to a fool.

[Sumnner]

His wrist cracked, the force behind the blow just enough not to shatter it outright, but enough to cause it to become immediately numb. The rock fell into the water with a loud plunk and he hissed in pain as he pulled his wrist to his chest in a moment of instinct. A moment later, a hairs breath, and the mans other hand whipped up at an inhuman speed, slashing at his face with an unseen dagger. A faint red mist blurred his vision for a moment as the tip of the blade cut across his face, from the bottom left corner of his chin, up across his nose, just barely missing his right eye, and up his forehead. The wound began to bleed immediately, clouding his vision further, but the pain hadn't yet come. He thought he should have been thankful for it, but he found himself in a mad panic instead. His thoughts raced as he stumbled back half a step.

His weapon had been useless, his voice ineffective, his tactics flawed, his motive unclear and his mind a hazy maze of uncertainty and self doubt. At least, it was when he thought clear enough to notice it. Right then however, it wasn't clear, and where he would have run to save his life, he instead cried out in rage. He couldn't have said where the rage came from, but it was there. Alive and kicking, even as he was sure his body would soon not be. Death was rapidly approaching, he could see it, but all he could think about was inflicting as much pain as was humanly possible, as quickly as possible.

The man was still fully clothed, and although he had the steel in which to pummel his body to a bloody, flesh like substance, he still had that one weakness. He was a lost cause, what remained of his coherent thoughts having fled further into the abyss of his mind, but frankly, he didn't care. His life had boiled itself down to one purpose, and one purpose only: to hurt the other man, and in doing so, die trying.

It was difficult to achieve a proper lunge in the waist deep water, even with the weight of his clothes reduced to near zero, but he lunged anyway. His face covered in blood, he roared as he reached out to grab at the other mans collar with his good hand, hoping to drag him into the water. The other fist balled, it still being numb enough to allow such movement, and he swung it as hard as he could toward the mans jaw. He knew it wasn't enough, in his heart he knew he was dead, but the fear of death had since become silent in his mind.

As he moved through the water toward the other man, a mental light flashed briefly in his mind and a distant voice, so soft he almost didn't hear it through his pain, rage and haze, cried out. "Jason, you fool!!"

[Taskmienster]

The edge of the dagger slashed the man’s cheek. The gash opened so quickly, so cleanly, that the blood in his face had to catch up. It blossomed and dripped, and through the exposed gap I thought I could see teeth. They were clenched, a sure sign of anger and determination, with a slight aftertaste of malice and disgust. My plastered grin grew larger, and for a moment I was offering a genuine smile. Sadistic? I could not tell. Had my lackluster respect for the pixilated environment around me, for the basics of the game itself, grown even smaller and I saw killing and blood as fun? Would this affect me in real life, would I have a desensitized outlook on real life? Didn’t I already?

The questions raged, the battle faltered and slowed. The man was growing rapidly towards his death; the blood from the exposed vessels would flow far faster than the body would heal. I knew it would be moments before the loss of blood would cause him to waver; the wake would grow smaller as he moved, and eventually he would be swallowed by the solemn sea.

Perhaps the loss of so much blood had already gotten to his head when he reached out for my collar, the only good hand he had left attempting to hold my fur lined collar in its grip. His attempt at grasping me was a move of desperation. He wanted to see my blood, wanted to know that he had not been a silly child who had done nothing more than entered a tournament far above his meager status. He was reaching for the unattainable. In the Magus Cup, and Althanas as far as I could tell, I was not just another person. I was a god in the making.

The lunge was well timed, well aimed, had a ferocity behind it, but it was all for naught. I let his hand grow closer and closer, watched as the open palm filled my vision. Slowly the fingertips were visible before my eyes, and yet I did not move. It was not until he was within an inch of me that I finally acted, and in doing so used a simple tactic that I had long since learned.

Silent, still, the world around me stopped. Threads of time were pulled from the coding that created Althanas, threads that kept it moving forward always. I only had to think about their creation, what code created them, and which ones to pull to leave me alone in complete serenity. The speed of thought was, and always would be, faster than any person could move. As soon as the hacking of Althanas’ sense of time happened, I felt alone and empty. It always felt that way. But I only had a couple seconds to use, and would spare none of it waiting for the code to disperse and the hand to hold on tight.

I shifted my weight and pushed off the balls of my feet, jolting out of the water and to the side of the man who tried to hold onto someone that he could never touch. The water’s resistance offset my strength, spurring me only a mere three feet to my left, but plenty to alleviate the unwanted proximity of my soon-to-be-dead opponent. I landed, felt the weaves of coding slowly return to their place, and turned as they did.

Both hands shot forward, two daggers released and aimed for killing blows. My opponents silhouette was shallow and would have been a difficult target to strike at distance, but with only three feet between us the blades were perfectly on target. One lunged for the side of his throat, the other for dead center in his ribcage. It would not matter if either struck, with so much blood loss the battle would draw to a close anyway. Even if I did not score a bullseye with either, I would be left with the collateral damage of my previous attacks, which was plenty to slow and stop the man.


((Since we're so close to finishing anyway, I'd like if we could have at least another little bit to get it done. Nobody else is this close, so I'm not sure if it's cool or not. But I figure we could get this done and out of the way by tomorrow, if not right now. If that's possible, thanks. If not, I understand.))

[Tainted Bushido]

So you know, I can't in good conscience allow you guys the extra time. I will however give you the option guys of finishing it outside the tournament. Let me know via PM. What I can do is have a judge give a rough skeleton for the purpose of determining winner, and then let you guys continue before having it judged for experience.

[Duffy]

Okay. Her we are. I’ve read this multiple times and it was a very hard thing to judge considering it fades off due to lack of time, so here goes: exciting to read, I have to add, well done to whomsoever wins! Scores are left for Sumner, right for Task.

Setting: 6/5

Neither of you excelled here, beyond setting generic weather and conjuring a water filled void. Sumnner gained a slight advantage by using the Spartan surroundings both to his advantage, and to his credit.

Pacing: 5/5

Nothing great, nothing bad, ambled along nicely and you kept each other dragging into the next post. I would have very much liked to have seen this continue but given time constraints it’s a shame.

Continuity: 4/5

Sumnner, a few parts in your posts really astounded me, well written and used good technique. But you didn’t act on them or went from an aggressive entity to a weaker force, if you acted on the emotions and ‘illusions’ your character sees, however small you do so, you’d have pulled ahead here and shown development in the thread beyond movements.

Dialogue: 5/4

I understand that your character is actually a current, present, real world individual Task, but even so, there should be more of an attempt to disguise that fact. Perhaps if personal thoughts or your personal narrative reflected his otherworldly nature, the player of the game, and your actual in game speech reflected the character itself, you’d have gotten a better score here. Sumnner’s speech was good, but didn’t shine outside of his descriptive potential.

Action: 8/6

Both of you have a good grasp of action, what it is and how to use it to keep people reading. It is dynamic and well written from both of you. I don’t think Task pulled it off as well with his approach, although it is very well written and you know damned well what you’re doing, the action is calculated and not involving enough, even if it is above average as it stands. I found the comments from your character more interesting than the movements and attacks he was making, I especially liked the dice rolling end to one of your posts.

Persona: 6/5

I got a sense of both your characters but beyond their general grievances, there’s not much of their identity beyond their frustration. Both of you gave some information at the start, Summner’s post was obscure, but so is his character, and Task showed some ‘out of scope’ history that worked well in the post as a whole. I’m at a loss as to what to suggest for you to improve your character’s presence on the page, although I know it’s difficult regardless in battles. Get back to me on that.

Mechanics: 6/6

Sumnner suffered from some clumsy comma use (the irony in me saying this I know!) Task, wherever it’s your style or not the perspective doesn’t pull itself off with the adjectives and fighting style you use. Both of you are well typed and spoken however.

Technique: 6/6

Same here. Both of you are competent writers but neither player shone above the other. I’d like to see more of the technical speak and the dual turmoil between Task’s real world character and his in game avatar. I’ve seen some excellent use of that gambit in other writing of yours, why not keep that awesome momentum, no matter what’s happening? Heck, have your character talk to himself as if he’s sat at a pc, describe Althanas through his eyes looking at a screen, really use this ingenious character perspective more than you have been doing. Essentially, both of you could make use of rhymic patterning, Sumnner especially, assonance would be a very simple trick to built up the serpent/eel persona, and Task could try two different perspectives, as above.

Clarity: 5/6

Due to the slight issues with pacing and the fact that both of your characters have introverted descriptions and approaches, it wasn’t perfectly clear, but held itself enough to be readable. Task was definitely the more clear here.

Wild Card: 6/7

Task pulls ahead for the endings of his posts, which added flair and a hint of awesome sauce, would’ve been higher, where it not for my epic dislike of eels and other worlders (I’m joking.)

Total Score: 57/55

Sumnner, by a horse’s hair, progresses to the next round!

---

Sumnner receives 1575 xp and 225 gold.

Task receives 450 xp and 125 gold.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.

Sorry, I missed it and didn't remember to come back to it.