The Great Hunt

[Shisha]

OPEN

The small tavern was already crowded when Shisha finally arrived. Now, it was jammed with all kind of men and women, mercenaries and treasure hunters from all over Scara Brae. The air carried the scent of adventure and expectancy, as if something were about to happen. People ordered ale or wine, according to their wealth and status. And there were even dice games going on. All considered, The Honored Mare – a curious name for a tavern – was having more patrons in one night than it had in ages. And it was all due to the Great Hunt.

The Great Hunt had everyone in the tavern on the edge. People wondered what it was all about. ‘What’ were they supposed to hunt? Of course, rumors spoke of a cursed treasure; gold and jewels buried in an ancient tomb of an unknown king. There was also talk of a legendary sword, capable of cutting iron as if it were butter. And Shisha even heard stories of a boat strong enough to withstand the toughest of winds. Nonsense, Shisha thought. No such things exist, at least not here in Althanas. Still, it was the word on the street, and more often than not rumors had some truth to them. Even a little.

More importantly, Shisha wondered who was behind this hunt. Someone made an effort to make the existence of the Great Hunt known. Light, there were hundreds of papers posted just in Scara Brae city, and heralds practically announced in every corner the coming of the hunt. So, someone wanted to find something, and was willing to waste a great amount of gold to achieve it. The question was what.

As much as Shisha tried, he couldn’t figure the puzzle. Some pieces were missing, something that didn’t fit right. Therefore, Shisha ordered another ale and waited patiently while taking a curious look among the fellow hunters.

They were a strange group. From fully clad knights, along with their respective squires, to strange looking barbarians wearing fur clothes, the expecting hunters were not a heterogenic people. They kept mostly to themselves, sometimes engaging in short conversations. Yet they all had an aura of danger to them, like wild beasts waiting for a prey to appear.

Suddenly, a tall man made his way to a wooden platform built at the far side of the tavern. Hushes were heard, and soon a gloomy silence took hold of the main room. All eyes were on the man. White strikes were beginning to appear on his hair, otherwise black and neatly tied. A mustache half covered a scar that reached from mouth to his left ear. He wore a finely crafted armor, and a pair of brown boots that made it clear the man was someone of rank. Upon reaching the platform, he proceeded to read out loud a paper he carried.

“I am Sir Furold Lares, captain of Scara Brae Guard. I hereby announce the beginning of the search for the Crystal Orb, also known as the Great Hunt. Allow me to introduce the man behind this search… Sir Pallotan!”.

A robed man approached the platform, followed by gasps and murmurs. He was tall for Sacara Braian people, taller than most Shisha had seen. He walked with an air of nobility to him, someone who was willing to command and used to being obeyed. He was the man who climbed Windlacer Peak and lived to tell it. A living legend.

“Good people of Scara Brae, hunters and mercenaries. Welcome to my hunt, The Great Hunt! I know you are all eager to know what this is all about, so I’ll get to the point. This…”. Sir Pallotan unrolled a scroll and showed it to the crowd. “… Is what I want you to search, the Crystal Orb”.

All eyes focused on the scroll. An artifact was depicted on it, accurately drawn to meet Sir Pallotan standards. It showed a round orb, hold by some sort squared base richly crafted. Surely a treasure worth many pieces of gold.

“Now, I’ll give 100,000 pieces of gold to whoever finds this orb and brings it back to me. I care not the means you use to get it. The orb is hidden somewhere in the Windlancer Mountain Range, so take the necessary precautions. Goblins, giant spiders, even dragons lurk in those peaks. Be wary!”

Sir Pallotan unbuttoned his shirt and showed a huge scar on his chest. “I gained this up there because of my pride. Just make sure you don’t make the same mistake”.

Captain Lares cleared his throat loudly. “Yes. So the Great Hunt has officially begun. My men will distribute a map with the estimated location of the orb. Make teams and return here once you find the orb”.

The crowd immediately began to disperse, most leaving the tavern to begin the search. Now now, Shisha thought, who will my teammate be?

[Alister]

All bunnying throughout thread have been pre-approved, thank you.

If this guy is such a living legend, why doesn't he get his lazy ass up there and find the orb. An unnatural voice responded at the end of Pallotan's proclamation. The voice rang with malicious intentions and struck a half cocked grin across the wizard, Alister's, pale face.

Do you ever shut up demon? It had been seventeen years since the spirit of Necronith had entered Alister Cain's mind, via book, but he still hadn't gotten used to it. Every waking moment felt like a curse for the withered wizard and he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the voice that plagued his head.

You ask me the same thing every day and every my answer is the same... The voice paused but it's forsaken echo still hummed in the back of Alister's mind. No!

The room around Alister was filled with would-be adventurers, making him contemplate if he even had a chance. His body wasn't exactly what it used to be due to the injury he had received in Salvar years prior. His leg was practically gimp, and up to this point he wasn't successful in finding a doctor who could fix it that was within his price range. The wizard had travelled everywhere, received thousands of estimates, but he couldn't afford a single one of the operations. Before tonight he was starting to feel it was hopeless, but that was before Pallotan's intriguing offer.

First I'm going to fix this damn leg and then I'm going to rid myself of you. Alister thought, he knew that much gold could easily cover not only his operation but also pay for something, anything, to exile the demon from his mind. Hell maybe I'll even find someone to take your pathetic ass in, though I can't imagine who in there right mind would want to carry the burden.

Nice try Alister but you forget that I made you, you wouldn't be squat without me, so deal with it wizard. It was the truth, the demon had enhanced Cain's elemental magic abilities, but at the cost of sharing his mind with the demon. It was overwhelming for the most part. For now let's focus on finding you a partner, after all the old tart did say to team up.

Alister scanned the bar searching for someone else who looked as alone as him, though in reality he wasn't alone. On the far side of the tavern he spotted a lonesome young man sporting an array of black clothing. He was broad shouldered and looked rather strong, which was a complete opposite from Alister Cain. Cain is a robe wearing, pale skinned, frail son of a gun with no shame. His posture hinted at arrogance and his voice rang with a certain smart ass pep. To most people he was repulsive, but to himself he was perfect.

Ah yes, he's a nice choice Alister. Necronith chimed in again as the wizard tapped his flawless glass staff on the oak floor beneath.

Shut up bastard, I can't even hear myself think.

That's the point my young friend, that's the point... Necronith retorted before fading out, which he did from time to time. It gave Alister the creeps to think about what the spirit could possibly be up to in his head.

"Hello there lad! My name is Alister Cain and I couldn't help but notice you too were alone. I was wondering if I couldn't pair up with you, after all Pallotan did say we should form some teams." Alister's voice was cocky, but in reality he hoped the young man would take him up on his offer. "So what do you say?!"

[Shisha]

Sir Pallaton talked idly among a group of hunters. Shisha saw this as an opportunity. He needed someone of influence to speak for him, someone who could pull the right strings. Sir Pallaton was surely a man of wealth, which meant he had some influence in Scara Brae. Perhaps, if Shisha could bring that orb back to him, Sir Pallaton will concede what Shisha wanted.

Shisha was about to approach Sir Pallaton when someone talked to him. Intrigued, Shisha turned around and found himself in front of a curious man. An ebony robe covered his body almost entirely, and his eyes were of a strong emerald color. Strangely enough, Shisha’s first impression of Alister sent shivers down his spine. There was something odd with the guy, something Shisha couldn’t grasp. Still, Alister was right. Sir Pallaton did ordered to team up…

From the corner of his eye, Shisha saw that Pallaton was making his way to the tavern’s main door. He needed to act quickly.

“Nice to meet you Alister Cain. My name is…”. Shisha paused, not knowing really what to say. Who was he? Was he thinking as a vessel, or was the spirit of the Ishikitai controlling his thoughts. Could Shisha really call himself human? Was his name really Annon no Shisha?

“…Shisha. My name is Shisha. Sure, we should team up. I sure need some help finding that orb… It’s already late, so we should get started tomorrow. Why don’t you prepare yourself? Let’s meet at the Northern Gate tomorrow at sunrise. I’ll try to get information about this Windlancer Mountain Range and about that orb. See you tomorrow!”.

With that, Shisha made his way through what was left of the crowd, pushing here and there, until he reached Sir Pallaton. He was about to leave the main room.

“Sir Pallaton wait! I have a question!”.

“Sorry lad, I will say nothing about Winlancer or the Dragon. Nothing.” answered Pallaton while opening the tavern’s door.

“It’s a test right?” Shisha asked. Sir Pallaton stopped dead on his tracks. He turned his head slowly, one hand reaching subconsciously for his blade. “A test?” Pallaton asked.

Shisha knew he had to act quickly. “You don’t care about the orb. You know where it is, or at least have a general idea of. You climbed those ranges, and know them better than most. No. You don’t want the orb. This is not a hunt, but a test”.

Shisha felt like a caged bird being observed. He felt his very soul being measured under Sir Pallaton eyes. Finally, Pallaton answered: “Bring me that orb, and I’ll give that mo…”

“It’s not gold what I want, but knowledge.” interrupted Shisha. “I want access to Scara Braes library, all his scrolls and books. Even those sealed and locked. You can give my part of the reward to my partner.”

Sir Pallaton scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Yes I can do that. Bring me that orb boy, and I’ll give access to the bloody privy of the librarian, if that’s what you want.” With that, Sir Pallaton left the tavern. Shisha felt excited. Suddenly the world seemed a merry place, where dreams could come true.

--------- 00000 -----------

Shisha leaned against the arch of the northern gate. His thoughts lingered in last night’s conversation, his achievement. If he could bring that orb back, he will have access to Scara Brae’s most ancient books. Surely, they must contain some information about Shisha and the Ishikitai.

Shisha only waited for Alister.

[Alister]

The lingering scent of cigar smoke and perfume floated throughout the small studio, leaving traces of past visitors. Alister had only been staying there for three days and already he was getting sick of it. The thought of staying in one place for to long was repulsive to the wizard and the only place he had ever felt comfortable was in Corone. That went to hell when he killed his mentor, Cecil, though. Now he was a wanted man in the woodland nation and the thought of imprisonment wasn't very appetizing, not for Alister or the unholy spirit of Necronith.

You know you're lucky I haven't killed you yet Alister. If I wasn't scared of being trapped in this pathetic crippled shell for my immortal life, I would have long ago. Necronith never liked being trapped with the wizard but for the time being they were stuck with each other. The thought of having the demon trapped in his skull put Alister at a constant state of unrest. Not a moment passed where he didn't regret opening the necromancer's diary, he often cursed himself for ever attempting to tamper with the dark arts.

You're lucky I haven't killed myself yet demon! With your mindless banter, I'm surprised I haven't. Alister paused to flip through the paperwork that he had received from the doctor earlier that day. It read about an operation that would permanently remove the demon from his mind, but first he would need funds and a host. The funds weren't the problem, if he and his new partner Shisha could recover the orb, it was more about finding a host. Someone who could put up with the demon's harsh words and constant tampering. Besides if you really had the power to kill me, you would have long ago.

You forget your place mortal, until we part ways you are my vessel through this pitiful world. I could kill you with less than a flick of my illusionary wrist. Without warning a pain shot through Alister's spine, signaling that even though Necronith wasn't physically there, he was very much in control. The pain was so harsh that Alister fell from his chair onto the cold floor, drifting deep into a dream state. It was that very power that the spirit had used so many times prior to make the wizard do his bidding. In reality Alister was very much the necromancer's slave.

~~~~~~~~

You know in my time it was customary for the servant to wake his master, not the other way around. The haunting voice of Necronith made the sleeping mage crack his eyelids, revealing beams of the rising sun. He was late for his meeting with Shisha, which wasn't a good way to start a partnership. He scurried to get ready and within minutes he was out the door and heading towards the Northern Gate, ready for whatever the gods planned for him on the mighty peaks of the Windlancer Mountain Range.

~~~~~~~~

The meeting went rather well despite Alister's tardiness. Shisha and him clicked pretty well but it was quickly established that they're motives differed. Shisha searched for knowledge, plain and simple, just knowledge. He even stated that Pallotan had agreed to give his portion of the prize to Alister if they were to retrieve the orb. The wizard couldn't help thinking that this was going to be a great day as he limped down the dirt path with his partner.

Along the way the two exchanged many words. Shisha seemed to hold back a bit when speaking of his past, but he did let on that the skin he wore was not his own. Like Necronith, Shisha needed a vessel to live, but the two were very different. Nerconith was an evil bastard, if released he would surely be a scorn to the very earth he walked on, while Shisha was something more pure. His intentions weren't clear, but he was a much better person than the demon within Cain.

Humidity started to disappear from the air and the ground beneath the two shook, it signaled that they had arrived to the foot of the mountain. What was in store for them was still a mystery, but Alister found comfort that he had such a trustworthy companion.

[Shisha]

Shisha was glad for Alister’s company. He had proved to be a fountain of knowledge, especially of matters regarding the dark arts of magic. Also, Shisha was shocked to discover that Alister too was subject to some sort of demoniac spirit, an essence whim whom he share his body. This meant that Shisha wasn’t unique, at least in terms of him being a vessel for another essence. Such notion shattered his concept of Althanas, and taught him that this world, and the universe for that matter, is far too big. There are wondrous creatures out there, mystical beings of tremendous powers. Shisha, like Alister, and like everyone else, was nothing but a tiny grain of sand in a beach we call universe.

But what really surprised Shisha was the fact that Alister knew a lot about the spirit he carried. Light, he could even interact directly with it! Such possibility hadn't even occurred to Shisha, and he was sorry to say that he knew little no nothing regarding the Ishikitai. In the end, it all rounded to one thing: Knowledge. Knowledge of what we are. In other words, the power to understand our purpose in the universe.

Soon enough, and as they walked further and further north, the terrain around them began to change. Hills emerged, populated by isolated forests that guarded natural springs. The wind was no longer hot and uncomfortable, but cool and refreshing. Even clouds, their white bodies holding desperately to the sky, began to appear. The ground began to steep slowly, until Shisha found himself at the foot of the Windlacer Mountain Range.

Dark, powerful, ominous, the Windlacer Mountains stood several meters high. A dense white mist covered their peaks, like a sea of cotton. Tall trees populated the mountain walls, their green branches looking like fingers stretching for the sky. Evergreen, Ash, Aspen, Hazelnut, they all guarded jealously the mountain passes like tall sentinels.

“So, we are finally here…” said Shisha, his voice rolling down the mountain canyons. He proceeded to retrieve a folded paper from his pocket. It was the map which Captain Lares distributed back at Scara Brae. It showed the Windlancer Mountain Range with surprising accuracy, its canyons and secret valleys, its mountain passes and hideouts. One specific mountain, Tal Khazur, was highlighted in the map. It depicted two entrances to a series of ancient dwarf tunnels. One little paragraph on the bottom left of the map stated: “The Crystal Orb is located in a chamber somewhere inside Tal Khazur”.
Shisha whistled noisily. Indeed, this whole hunt was becoming more like some sort of fiasco. Sir Pallaton knew the location of the orb, but trusted in complete strangers to look for it. It was odd. Still, it changed little the original plan. If Alister and Shisha retrieve that orb and bring it back to Scara Brae, then Shisha could have access to the library’s secrets. It was the best he had.

“Right. It looks like the Crystal Orb is somewhere inside Tal Khazur. The map shows two entrances to dwarf tunnels. I guess that is where we should begin our search. Let’s split. I’ll take the east entrance here…”. Shisha pointed with his finger the location of the entrance in the map. “You take the west entrance. That way, we can explore quicker the insides of the mountain. Let’s meet here in three days to see if any of us has the orb”.

Shisha considered thoughtfully a moment and then added: “Those are dwarf tunnels after all. Who can say what treasures lie in them?”. He grinned, knowing that Alister was eager to gain some extra gold to pay that operation.

-----00000-----

A strong wind gusted down Tal Khazur. Shisha held desperately to the mountain wall, his heart threatening to free out of his chest. Convinced that he had a good hold of the rock, Shisha resumed the steep climbing. He spared a few moments to look down the mountain, and regretted it. Down below, the valley trees looked like tiny green dots, impossible to distinguish from another. It was a good kilometer fall to the valley floor.

It sounded like a good plan, at least at the beginning. Split up, climb separately to the entrances, and then meet back in 3 days. What Shisha didn’t considered, however, was the difficulty of the climb itself, and the treacherous passes of the mountain. More often than not, Shisha found himself holding desperately to a rock for his life, the powerful gusts of wind from Windlancer Range threatening to push him down. The steepness of the climb was another problem. Shisha literally had to climb through some passes with no rock in which to stand.

A day has passed since Shisha parted ways with Alister. Shisha regretted the lack of company when he spent the last night half asleep wondering if he would wake up falling into the abyss. It was a reckless climb.

Shisha wondered how Alister was doing. It was incredible how he trusted that wizard, considering that they met just a day ago. Perhaps it was the vessel trait that they shared that made Shisha identify with Alister. Will he be able to reach the western entrance? Perhaps the climb was easier that way. Or maybe he found a secret pass.

[Alister]

The fresh breeze that had filled the mountains up to that point was replaced by a foul stench. One that reeked of rot and brought tears to Alister's eyes. It was Shisha's opinion that the two should part ways and Alister, being the co-operating man that he was, gladly accepted the man's suggestion. It wasn't until he was at the western foot of Tal Khazur that he decided that sticking together would've been more beneficial to the duo.

So hobble foot, what do you intend to do now? You can't actually think you'll make it all the way up there? Necronith had been surprisingly distant for the majority of the day, but at last it was time for him to chime in, throwing his slanderous insults around like a withered ball.

Don't forget demon, you're the one in my head. Why don't you answer that question for yourself. The necromancer wasn't lying though, the entrance towering above would take Alister the remainder of the day just to reach the half way mark. Where there's a will, there's a way, and Alister Cain was one strong willed son of a bitch.

Well maybe there's another entrance, don't forget these are dwarf caverns. Necronith added before fading from Alister's thoughts, probably up to no good within the halls of the wizard's mind.

~~~~~~~~~

After hours of searching Alister, by accident, came across a spot in the earth that was much looser than the rest. It consisted of crumbled rock and an unknown muddy material, that was holding the whole thing together like plaster. With several taps of his glass cane, Alister established that the wall was hollow, concealing the hidden path beyond. The wizard tried everything to dig through the thick earth, but had very little success. With hope and daylight dwindling, Alister tried one last thing. He attempted to harness his earth magic to tunnel through the makeshift wall. He had never used his abilities for those purposes, but it was worth a try.

With a great deal of concentration Alister targeted the muddy gunk that held the rocks in place. Within a matter of moments he had picked away at the top layer of rocks, which unleashed a foul smell of decaying corpses. It became obvious to the wizard that he had stumbled across a tomb, a dwarven graveyard. The burning stench even brought back the annoying banter of Necronith.

After the task was complete the wizard decided to rest and recover what energy he had lost, uncovering the hidden path. He tucked himself under the shade of a small bush just in time to watch the sun fall under the scattered cliffs. It created a serene scene that quickly put the wizard to sleep. In the morning he would explore the cave with hopes of finding the orb and ending this grueling rat chase.

[Shisha]

Shisha gasped for air, his hands shaking from fatigue. That last climbing proved to be the most difficult, since Shisha had to hop in mid air from one ledge to another. His bloody fingers ached, while his garments were tattered from the friction against the mountain wall. Perhaps a pair of gloves would have made that climbing easier, or at least more bearable. Well, there was nothing to do about that.

After a few minutes of breath-recovering, Shisha turned his head and smiled proudly. He had reached a prominent ledge of the mountain wall, exactly where the eastern entrance was supposed to be. Sure enough, there it was. A pair of white stone doors lay on the floor, as if they had been blown from the inside. Shattered, vegetation grew inside cracks in the doors, as if claiming them for their own. An archway announced the entrance to the tunnels, richly carven out of the living stone. Signs of a forgotten language were carved on the arch, surely welcoming visitors to a realm which once echoed of wealth. Now, they seemed sad, as if in agony, yearning for their lost glory. And beyond were the tunnels, dark and ominous, like an entrance to hell.

Shisha approached the entrance, taking special care not to stumble with the doors. The tunnels were night dark. Shisha cursed his bad luck… and lack of preparations. He should have brought torches, and something to light them. Now, how was he supposed to… With the corner of his eyes Shisha caught the glimpse of something. Right beside one end of the archway lay a nicely ordered pack of torches, with oil and everything. And right beside them, a pair of obsidian lighters. Now that was odd. Why would torches and lighters be left here…

The idea stroked Shisha like a slap in the face. Sir Pallaton. Was this part of the test… a mean to reach inside the tunnels? Surely, climbing Tal Khazur represented a challenge itself. Was this some sort of second challenge? Only those capable of reaching the entrance will make past the dangers that lay in the tunnels?

Events were cascading to the same conclusion. The theory of the test seemed more and more reliable. Yet, the fact was that Shisha’s objective changed little. In fact, the torches just made it easier. Convinced that his luck finally changed, Shisha made it to the torches, and then he saw it: steps on the ground circling the torches. So someone had been here before him. Shisha was no trackers, but surely they must be more than one. There was no time to waste. Whoever brings the orb gains the prize. Sir Pallaton said nothing of tying teams.

-----0000-----

The air, thin and cool, carried the scent of moisture and decay. Bats shrieked and flew from the torchlight, forsakening their hideouts in the stones. The tunnels’ floor, once paved and perfectly cleaned, had piles and piles of guano, grabble and forgotten mining tools. The stench was difficult to bear, especially since it rallied in your nostrils and mouth. Shisha avoided as best he could those treacherous guano corridors, knowing all too well that traps or holes could be hidden below them.

The tunnels were bigger than Shisha expected, sometimes reaching a good 3 meters tall and 4 meters wide. They were not straight, but rather had turns and intersections, sometimes reaching main halls or rooms from which more tunnels emerged. The map, sadly, had no details regarding the dwarf tunnels. Shisha decided to turn always right in every intersection, taking special care to mark with his sword where he came from.

As time passed and Shisha ventured more and more within the tunnels, the air became cooler, almost old. Shisha imagined that few had ventured inside the mountain, even less so deep into these ancient halls.

Shisha’s nerves were on edge. All kind of sounds, whether the call of a bat or the “tic tic” of droplets of water, sent shivers down his spine. Shisha saw figures where there was empty space, and a strange feeling that he was been followed constantly harassed him. He checked every so often on his sword, partially releasing it from its scabbard. It made no harm to be prepared, and a few seconds wasted in a trapped blade could mean death.

Up ahead, almost before a turn, Shisha saw something glistening on the ground. It was a finely crafted axe, richly adorned. The blade had split from the in half, but it still showed signs of edge. Upon a closer inspection Shisha was amazed to discover that it was made out of mythril! Shisha made an attempt kneel and … Shisha heard a click right beside him. An arrow head, broken from hitting the wall, fell right beside him. Shisha turned desperately to where the arrow came from, and saw a figure advancing to him. Instinctively he reached for his sword, the sound of metal and leather echoing through the tunnels. Shisha managed to parry a small sword blow, and discovered that the hand behind the aggressor’s blade belonged to a troll! Angry, the troll bellowed in a strange language. Shisha pulled free his blade, quickly side stepped to a side and cut. Blade slashed through flesh and bones, spilling blood and guts to the ground. With a desperate yell, the troll stumbled, his eyes fixed on the roof.

But the battle wasn’t over. A pair of trolls replaced the fallen one. Dangerously close, their blood-lusted red eyes were fixed on Shisha. He could even smell their foul breath. One attacked with a spear, leaving Shisha but seconds to parry the attack, side step and cut the spear in two. Terribly kept, the weapon succumbed easily to the blade. The other troll, however, used that moment to kick Shisha. He stumbled to the ground, cursing his reflexes. He was about to turn and cut when a club hit him hard on his back. His body turned dumb instantly. Before Shisha could react, a second club flew him to unconsciousness.

-----0000-----

Shisha floated in a sea of darkness. It was the void of his mind, the echoes of his past. This was a place of dreams, of yearnings and desires, the place where he came from. He floated for what seemed an eternity, feeling numb, not knowing what to do. His only thoughts turned around a man and his black armor. He laughed that demonical laugh, a sound of absolute victory. It echoed everywhere, consuming Shisha’s very soul.

“So, it comes down to this, Annon no Shisha. You, falling to my sword. You, and your pathetic city…”

-----0000-----

Shisha woke from the nightmare bathed in sweat. His mind rushed fanatically to understand what was going on. His senses sent information to his brain that contradicted his memory. He was tied and bound, unable to move his body and extremities. His back hurt like crazy, and he could savor a faint taste of blood in his mouth. The air carried the scent of burned meat.

After a few seconds Shisha’s eyes focused on the space that surrounded him. He was in a huge hall, bigger than the rest of the tunnels. The ground felt soft below, like mud. Stalagmites decorated the hall’s roof, like teeth of an enormous beast.

Shisha heard the melancholic sobs of another prisoner. He was tied beside Shisha, unable to move either. He was crying inconsolably, babbling words at random. After a close examination, Shisha realized that it was a woman, prettier than most should she stop crying. Her eyes were opened wide, as if in terror. Shisha turned his head in the same direction, and was shocked to see a human torso and head impaled beside a campfire. Three trolls feasted on legs and hands, muttering to themselves in that strange language.

Shisha managed, barely, not to puke.

[Alister]

The moon came and went, casting it's tranquil glow across the sea of winding peaks. Tal Khazur towered high above the slumbering warrior, but it was dwarfed by the surrounding peaks, which casted their shadows on the hollow mountain. Despite the serene scene created by the Windlancer Mountain range, a rotting smell from within the dwarf mines tainted it's setting. The stench was so strong it woke Alister and the demon within from their rest.

How much time are you going to waste mortal? Necronith scoffed, making his dark presence very known. The wizard fought hard to ignore him, but he knew that if he managed to put the necromancer's haunting voice from his mind, it would only be a matter of time before he used his dark magic to get what he wanted.

After some delay, Alister finally got up and trudged through the dark entrance of the cavern. At first the smell emerging from within was so strong it almost knocked the wizard off his feet, but after pushing his breakfast back down his throat, he got used to it. In the ages prior to this time, when Necronith wasn't a spirit lurking within Alister's mind, these halls would have suited the demon well. The grime and mud below Alister's feet compacted under each patient step he took closer to the core of the mountain. The further he trekked, the more the moonlight faded from the makeshift entrance behind, until finally the wizard was shrouded in a sea of eternal blackness.

On the ground below you is a broken spear, ignite it with fire and use it as a torch. Although the demon usually had nothing but foul things to say, every once and a while he helped the wizard out. Mostly with minor things like guiding him through dark tunnels or warning him of some unseen dangers. Alister went to his knees and started prodding the mucky ground, searching for the materials for his makeshift torch. Upon finding the spear a strong feeling of reluctance spread throughout the wizard. See you wouldn't be spit without me mortal, you need me.

You need me far more than I need you demon. Alister responded as he lit the tip of the wood with a flickering red flame. The darkness was illuminated, revealing a canvas of sludge smeared walls. Under his feet was a path littered with bones and muck. It didn't surprise the wizard to realize he was standing on a sea of decaying corpses. Damnit I just put my hands in that shit! Without hesitation he wiped the mixture of blood and mud onto his withered robe, blending it with numerous other stains.

Get used to it Alister. The demon's menacing laugh echoed throughout the wizards mind, you're in for one hell of a night.

~~~~~~~~~~

The wizard walked through the damp cave for what seemed liked hours until finally catching a glimpse of light. It was the flicker of a fire, which alerted the wizard that either his companion was already here, or that another team had reached the core of the cavern first. Either way Alister decided it would be better if he put out his torch. He dipped the flame into the wet ground below and started his stealthy approach towards the light. The closer he got the more tainted foreign voices echoed off the cavern walls, it became obvious that the racket wasn't from a relic hunter.

That's troll, they're saying the meat tastes great. You know what trolls eat right Alister? They eat men like you, well ones that actually have meat on their bones, like your friend Shisha. Necronith chimed in, alerting the wizard to use caution when entering the main chamber.

On the far side of the room, around a fire pit, sat three trolls. They were gluttons, ripping loose skin from bones and making piggish grunts. They chomped hard tearing through muscle and fat, their savage ways were hardly sanitary. To Alister's direct left were two squirming figures, one of which was Shisha and the other was a stranger. With haste the wizard lurked the dark path leading to his captured partner, a path that was completely devoid of the lights touch.

"Shisha, it's me Alister. Looks like I came just in time, huh." The wizard whispered while loosening Shisha's bonds. The trolls may have been smart enough to capture the young man, but they lacked the skills to tie him up properly. "Whose this?" He questioned pointing to the frail figure of the woman who was tied up inches away.

[Shisha]

The stench of burning flesh buried deeply in Shisha’s nose. His entrails, revolting, pleaded for peace. He was exhausted, cold and in pain. A miserable sight; a defeated warrior. His hopes shattered, Shisha waited calmly for his turn to be eaten.

But after dusk comes sunrise they say. Out of nowhere, like a ray of light in the darkest of nights, Alister’s voice echoed in Shisha’s mind. Soon, Shisha found himself untied, his hands throbbing.

“Blessed be the light, Alister. How did you…”. Shisha shut his mouth. Turning his head around violently, Shisha was relieved to discover that the trolls were far too busy with their meal to pay attention to a pair of tied prisoners. Joy spread through his heart like ripples of water in a pond.

“We must get out of here.” whispered Shisha. He then proceeded to untie the other prisoner. “I don’t know who she is, but that guy over there must be his partner”. Shisha motioned with his head to where the impaled body burned. “Ready. Let’s go…”.

Upon realizing herself free from the bonds, the girl yelled hysterically. She jumped from the ground and ran desperately, as if possessed, to the fire. She advanced to one troll, muttering curses as she ran. The troll, surprised at first, quickly gained the upper hand, and casually pushed aside the girl with a single hand. The girl stumbled to the ground, her shouts drawn in a sea of pain.

Gaping, Shisha cursed his luck. He instinctively rolled aside, dodging an arrow that bounced on the floor. He ran like crazy, dodging stalactites that grew from the ground. Arrows flew past by, a rain of death and annihilation, while shouts and curses filled the hall. Shsha tried to make as much distance from the archer as possible, zigzagging in an effort to avoid the arrows. Suddenly, from the corner of a stalactite, a troll showed himself. He carried a spear, which he used to thrust at Shisha. The warrior, dodged the blade almost by miracle, but failed to parry the second blow, which came from the butt of the spear. It hit him right in the stomach, throwing Shisha a couple of meters away.

Shisha gasped for air as he hit the ground, the world spinning from sight. He heard footsteps coming to him, and rolled just in time to dodge a thrust. The troll, annoyed, placed his foot on Shisha’s back, and was about to make the killing blow when the earth shook. Stone crumbled and fell to the ground and desperate yells echoed everywhere. The troll, confused, delayed the attack a few seconds, giving Shisha the chance to get free. Rolling violently, he escaped the troll’s grip. He summoned what strength was left in him and kicked the beast, which backed throwing the spear to the ground.

Meanwhile, the madness that surrounded Shisha reached a climax. Stalagmites fell to the ground. The girl, either mad or possessed, cried so loud that hurt. The warrior, bleeding everywhere from minor cuts, acted in a precise motion. He quickly grabbed the spear, turned around in a single smooth motion, and thrust his entire body against the troll. His fists, holding the spear, turned white. His arms shook from the effort and his heart bumped like crazy. In that precise moment, seeing the spear ending in the troll’s stomach, Shisha laughed. He laughed not for joy, nor for his life, but because in that single instant the prey turned into the hunter. The spear, shaking, broke in three pieces and the troll, unable to stand for himself, collapsed to the ground.

[Alister]

The sight around the camp fire was one of horrors and gore. A distorted head resting on a pike, a torso picked clean of limbs, and three trolls enjoying the tender raw meat. Alister had no doubt that if he hadn't come when he did, his young companion would have been next on the menu. To Shisha's luck though the wizard had arrived.

"I think we should stick around. Surely we can take..." Before the wizard could finish, the recently untied young lady went into madness. She tore off through the cave, alerting the foul beasts encircling the fire of her release from captivity. Without notice Shisha charged, skillfully dodging arrows as he went. Alister however had other plans.

The cave surrounding the trolls was sparse with sharp rock formations and the fire still burned with a yellow flicker, two elements that the wizard could use to his advantage. Alister stretched his arm, pointing towards the sea of stalactites, and with a great deal of mental strain, he managed to shake several of them loose. The earth rattled and shook around the wizard's targets as he finally lifted them from the cavern. Using his mind, Alister launched the barrage of sharp stones. To his luck he impaled one of the trolls, through the thick bald skull, sending a stream of crimson blood that painted the floor beneath it. With a lifeless crash the troll fell.

Two left. Alister thought as he scanned the cave, checking to see if Shisha needed his help. The young warrior had managed to kill a second troll, leaving one, that stood alone just feet from the flame pit.

With a raise of his glass cane Alister prepared his next attack. Using his cane as a funnel to exact his aim, he shot a fireball which soared towards the final beast. Before the projectile could meet the trolls oozing flesh, Alister used one final spell to enlarge the blast.

Splazam!

The ball exploded on impact, creating a pushing force that sent the troll flying. He met his death as he fell face first onto the fire pit, leaving himself momentarily open for a finishing blow from Shisha's blade.

With a stumble Alister carried himself to the side of his partner. The battle had taken so much energy from the wizard, proving that he was still weak. Despite his adventures and contact training the mage still had so much to learn.

"That wasn't too bad!" Alister stated and his gathered his remaining strength and let out a deep sigh. He slapped Shisha's arm, grabbing is slightly, "so how about that orb?"

[Shisha]

Shisha moaned from the slap, the muscles on his back screaming in pain. The adrenaline, that sweet feeling of overconfidence, dissipated. Instead, it was replaced by a sense of dread. Death almost got the best of him. For the first time, Shisha realized how precarious life is, how vulnerable. With every breath came joy, because it meant that he was alive. Under that perspective, victory seemed meaningless.

“Yeah…” Shisha muttered, his eyes fixed on the dead troll. “We still need to find it”.

Shisha made his way to the campfire. Right beside it the girl sobbed inconsolably, lamenting the parting of her partner. She clutched the carcass of the man, tear rolling down her cheeks. It was the other side of the coin, the other side of the battle. For her, victory was meaningless. A pyrrhic victory.

Shisha grabbed a loosed piece of wood from the fire and inspected the remains of the hall. Stalagmites lay thrown on the ground, their butts unnaturally pointing up. Alister was full of surprises. How the wizard accomplished such a thing Shisha couldn’t phantom. Alister showed, yet again, that he was a powerful ally.

On the far side of the hall, almost hidden behind a pile of white bones, Shisha discovered a small room. Sparing the girl just a few seconds, he entered the room. Shisha’s eyes took a while to adjust. There, waiting boldly on a small bench, was an orb clear as crystal. The light of the torch reflected on the crystal, sending shards of different colors in every direction. It was a wondrous view, as if taken from a fairy tale.

Shisha, gaping, said: “Blood and ashes Alister. This is…”

“The Crystal Orb. Hell of a job boys. Hell of a job!”. It was Sir Pallaton, gallantly leaning against a wall. He wore a finely crafted silver armor, which depicted a pair of horses charging to an unseen enemy. Right behind him three soldiers made sure the trolls were dead, while a fourth caressed protectively the girl by the fire.

[Alister]

The strong sense of accomplishment left the mage as he looked at the weeping lady. She had lost everything in that cave; her sanity and her partner, both things that she obviously held very close. She clung onto what warmth still was flowing through the limbless torso, sobbing endlessly. It served as a reminder that there was still hope in the world, despite the darkness that lurked it, despite the darkness that was slowly taking over Alister's mind. It painted an emotional smile across the wizard's face as he followed Shisha, past a pile of cleanly picked bones, and into the small chamber.

The room around them was much different from the rest of the cavern. Everything here was strangely out of place for a troll nest. With each flicker of the torch, a small object radiated brilliance, alerting the duo that they had finally found their prize. Alister couldn't help thinking that the set up was all to unnatural and then from the darkness came a familiar voice.

"The crystal orb. Hell of a job boys. Hell of a job!" It was Pallotan followed by a group of well armed knights.

The scene made the mage look to his companion with a confused glare, then looking back to the well suited Pallotan. "What's the meaning of this Sir Pallotan? What kind of sick game are you playing here?!" Alister's first thoughts went to a double cross, but he quickly dissolved that theory. If the man could have retained the orb with such ease, then why did he send out parties of people to search for it?

"Game wizard? I am playing no games, this however was a test." From under his black mustache came a wholesome smile, one that hinted honesty. "With honor I am glad to say that the two of you passed." It was as if the man knew it all along, he knew that the wizard and the warrior would retrieve the orb. That was why everything was so easily placed. The map marking the exact mountain, the two entrances leading into the cavern, even the girl; it was all one big scheme hatched by one clever son of a bitch. "I may not have been completely honest in the tavern, but that's because I had to be sure the two of you were right."

Behind Pallotan the sobbing girl rose with a new found happiness. One of the guards tossed her a small sack the jingled as it hit her hands. "So she was even in on it? We could have been killed you bastard. She could've been killed!" Alister was starting to lose his cool, but was quickly settled by the firm hand of Shisha. If he let his anger get out of control they would surely lose their lives.

"But you weren't wizard." Pallotan stated in a casual voice, "soon you will realize that it was all necessary. This was only your test, soon you will be enlightened of the bigger picture. One the involves both you and your young companion, but until then we will return to Scara Brae and you will rest."

"Look man, I don't know what the hell you're talking about, quite honestly I don't care. I just want my gold! There's your damn orb!"

"It was never about the orb Alister! In fact that is your gift, the orb. You'll find in time that it is much more valuable than any amount of gold. As for you Shisha, you will be granted access to the library and all of it contains."

Alister tuned out the knight and looked at the shimmering orb. It was no consolation for gold, at least that's what he thought. With a hobble, the wizard approached the bench, and retrieved his prize. It sent a pulsating wave through his body, alerting him that there was some kind of foreign power within it's mysterious crystal form. He tucked it into his robe pocket and looked back at the knight, who was now explaining something to Shisha.

Spoils: Orb of Unknown Power: The clear crystal orb's power is unknown to Alister, but Sir Pallotan seems to think the wizard will find a use for it. It does however change colors from time to time (Limited to dark blue and blood red)

[Shisha]

It was just too much going on at once. Shisha kind of expected that the hunt was a façade for something else. He even guessed that Pallaton’s purpose was to test the participant's abilities. But what Shisha didn’t expect was to find Sir Pallaton watching him casually in the tunnels, hundreds of meters inside Tal Khazur, wearing a I-know-what-you-are-thinking smirk on his face. What’s more. The girl, who minutes before cried in anguish, graciously counted gold coins on the ground, not heeding what so ever the carcass that burned just inches from her face. Madness.

“Don’t look at me that way Shisha!” said Pallaton, hardly suppressing an annoying laugh. “I need someone to do a job for me. But I don’t need the regular smuggler, no. I need someone which skills I trust. So… I organized this hunt as a test. Which both of you passed, to my satisfaction.”

“Was it all a fake? The trolls and everything? Even he?” Shisha made a show of dramatically pointing to the impaled body.

“Oh the trolls were quite real. They were more, of course. So we dispatched them, except a couple that we left in the tunnels. Like I said, we need someone which skills I can trust. Now, regarding him… Well, sacrifices are often necessary. But don’t feel sad for her….” Sir Pallaton pointed to the girl with his chin. “He was a nobody. A killer I freed from prison to assist in my little test as bait”.

“How did you come here, then. A secret passage?”

Pallaton laughed yet again. “Passage? Well, I guess it can be call that way”.

Sir Pallaton stepped back, breathed deeply, and gently extended his hands. A blue light flourished from his palm, quickly transforming into a ball of energy spinning in the air. In a matter of seconds, the ball grew in size. Inside the ball Shisha observed a strange image. It was the main room of the tavern back at Scara Brae. A thin smell of stew and just-made bread spread through the dwarf hall.

“Better than a secret passage. A gate. Alister, like I said, the orb is yours, keep it. And to you Shisha, Scara Brae’s library will be open. Now come, both of you. I have a job which you’ll find interesting, I think.”

Pallaton walked through the ball of energy, and all of a sudden appeared inside the tavern, casually throwing aside his cloak and realizing the knots from his armor.

“What kind of job?” asked Shisha.

“Infiltrate the Scara Scourge” answered Pallaton from the energy ball.

Shisha turned to look at the wizard. Alister shrugged and walked through the ball. Shisha limited to follow.


END

[Zook Murnig]

Quest Judging

The Great Hunt

Medium commentary was requested, and since at least one of the writers in this quest has never had a judgment before (as noted in the submission), I will also be providing explanations of each category to be followed by the notes on that category with regards to this quest. The category explanations will be as stated by forum policy, and are not written by me, but by Sighter Tnailog, and can be found in the Rules.

STORY ~ 11.5/30


A good overall score in the Story Category will require three things. First, it will need to be well-placed in time and location. Second, it will need to proceed with sufficient development to interest the reader without boring her at the same time. Most importantly, though, it will need to be original and creative.

Continuity ~ 3/10


Continuity situates a thread within a broader sheath of a character's storyline or personality. This should be done so that a moderator need not read any of a character's back stories, yet can still figure it out readily based on the information provided. Does the player describe how a character arrived at the current location? Are there descriptions of past events? Continuity does not require a massive, epic storyline, or even keeping all threads in perfect harmony with another. Instead, continuity requires an explanation: Why is the story taking place?

I had little idea of what happened before the quest for each of you, and although you gave some idea of what came next, it was so overcome by the sheer wonkiness of the story that it wasn't much consolation. Deus ex machina can be a useful tool, if it's not referenced constantly throughout the story. You did. Further, certain parts just didn't make any sense (see Clarity). Remember, if you're going to use deus ex machina, or a more powerful force pulling the strings of the situation, let it be a twist. Or at least let it be a twist as to who exactly is pulling the strings, if the character(s) suspect that someone is.

Setting ~ 5/10


A good story requires both a place and a time. Closely related to continuity, setting asks another question: When and where is the story occurring? Setting should be judged according to how well these things are described -- do we get a sense of the landscape, do we understand where we are? -- and how well they are used. For instance, if a character describes a chair, is the chair used as a seat? Is the pen on the desk merely mentioned, or is it also picked up and twirled between a character's fingers? A good setting not merely describes the place, it also makes use of objects within that place. Setting is not a canvas on which you paint a story -- it is a world in which you ACT a story.

I got tiny little details of the scenery, but they were interacted with little when it wasn't part of a spell. Further, the descriptions were pretty plain, and you just told me stuff was there and left it up to me to figure out what they looked like. As Russian author Anton Chekhov once said, "Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass."

Pacing ~ 3.5/10


If Continuity asks Why? and Setting asks Where and When?, then Pacing asks "How?" Is the action clearly described? In judging Pacing, the first question that must be asked is the author's intent. If the intent is to keep the reader from putting down the story, then a good Pacing score requires that the story delivered: it kept the tension high, releasing it in certain places and building it in others. It kept you guessing. If the intention of the Pacing is to develop a particular character, then did the development of the plot serve to provide the character with specific ways to grow? In other words...Pacing must keep you reading, but must also serve the intent of the author. Did the story develop in a way that served the author’s intent?

You were all over the place, honestly. One minute, you were in the tavern, which only took two posts full of walls of text and unnecessary internal dialogue (see Dialogue). The next you were at the arch waiting for Alister, who in his next post jumped back to being in the tavern, then to his room where he had another unnecessary internal dialogue, then to meeting up with Shisha. It continued the jumping around from there. Further, in the fight with the trolls, you proceeded to jump back to the beginning of the events of the prior post to explain your character's perspective. This breaks pacing horribly. Instead, work with your thread-mate(s) in the future, and provide them with your reactions and dialogue so that it flows together.

CHARACTER ~ 9.5/30


There is one important factor to keep in mind when judging Character. Do the thoughts, words, and actions of a character show who they really are? If a particular character is doing something completely contrary to what they are like, then you should give the player a low score. If the character's actions truly illustrate who they are, then you should give high scores. Above all, a character should be BELIEVABLE. Does it make sense for an illiterate barbarian to talk his way out of a mess? No. Does it make sense for a dull-witted human to come up with a brilliant plan for ambushing the enemy? No. Does it make sense for a first-time lover to comprehend the depth of his emotions? No. In other words: simply because a character does something "smart" doesn't mean the player should get high scores. Sometimes, a stupid response to a situation can be just as credible as an intelligent one.

Dialogue ~ 2/10


Dialogue must be sensible and believable. A fighter in the midst of a battle should not USUALLY break off the fight for a longwinded speech. A poorly educated human would not be able to converse with an extensive vocabulary. A quiet, withdrawn person would not speak at all, but might do more internal thinking. A dullard might not do much speaking OR thinking. On the other hand, a particularly flamboyant, arrogant, or witty character might indeed decide to pull away in order to deliver a speech he or she thought of on the fly. A poorly educated human might, in a moment of crisis, say a few words which, although short and unadorned, are elegant in their simplicity. A quiet person might do the same thing, or a dullard might assert their dignity with a few protesting, angry, halting words. The question with dialogue is not "Was it witty?" or "Was it present?" Instead, the question is this: does a character’s dialogue or lack of dialogue illustrate the character?

My main problem here was with the overly-cliché bits between Alister and his demon. I get it, Necro is a demon. He's a jerk. But you hammer it home way too hard. He does one nice thing, and it seems like you think he has to make up for it ten times over. As for suggestions for this, think about the role that Necronith plays in your character. Is he there to tempt Alister into using the dark magic, and relying more upon him, thereby making him more powerful? Is he there, instead, to bide his time until an opportunity strikes where he can break free from Alister's mind, or take over Alister's body? Or is he just stuck, waiting for Alister to die or find some other way to set him free/give him a better host? The constant bickering was annoying, to say the least, and really undermined your character.

As for Shisha and the old knight? Their lines varied between boring and repetitive, to straight out jaw-droppingly mind-numbingly terrible and sociopathic things that Sir Pallotan spouts at the end. "Hell of a job, boys." After a fight with three trolls ends with a man being dismembered and eaten, and a woman goes insane. And then he says not to worry about the man and the woman, because the man was a criminal he released from jail just to be used as bait in the test. This also affected Persona.

Action ~ 4/10


This can be explained in virtually the same way as dialogue. For an example, consider The Lord of the Rings. When the Witch-King of Angmar was slain, it was because he had ignored the hobbit Pippin, who was able to creep up from behind him and get him in the heel at an opportune moment. This is entirely fitting with Pippin's character...he cannot block the attack of a man, jump backflips, or cast spells. But he can crawl quietly and wait for a chance to strike. His action made sense for his character. Similarly, a dullard might not come up with a battle strategy in the thick of things, but he might be able to appear at a lucky moment and swing a sword just in time to protect a friend's life.

But action is not limited to fighting! For example, a character might have a favorite book. One could begin a thread with her reading it for a third time, and commenting on it as a friend walks in. Or maybe a character collects old coins. In a quest, one could come across a trove of them, and have the character go to any lengths to keep ahold of them as the quest progresses. Think of action as being just what it says: anything a character DOES. Just like dialogue, action is not defined by how cool a maneuver is or how intelligently the character planned and executed a strategy. Rather, action is judged by whether or not a character does things that fit the character.

Passable. It was nothing special, and only Alister did anything using the scenery (see Setting) aside from the very strange climbing scene with Shisha, where he jumps in mid-air to reach the next hold.

Persona ~ 3.5/10


Persona refers to how well a character's emotions are depicted in relation to their personality. Emotions can be one of the trickiest things to talk about -- either one doesn't portray them enough or one does a bit too much. Characters, for the most part, do have emotions. They feel pain, they feel love, hate, anger, confusion. A few pointers can help with judging Persona. First, the characters should feel emotion, but not always know what to do with it. Most people feel emotion, but they often struggle with knowing the precise emotion they are having or determining how to act on the emotion. Whether a player portrays this conflict or not should determine the score. Second, is the emotion believable? Absent a specific reason, emotion should not be overblown. A lengthy description of how much love you feel for the person you just had sex with, for instance, can be rather obnoxious.

However, keep this in mind: both these rules can be suspended if the emotion depicted is well-done in relation to personality. For instance, a character might be a warrior, used to pain -- used to not reacting with tears or cries if a dagger pierces them, for instance. Or they might have tried to harden their heart to love, or ignore feelings of hate because they think hate is a bad thing to feel. Or a character might be the clingy type, ignoring subtle emotions in favor of seeking that clear feeling of "I love her so much" that may characterize an adolescent boy. Or the character might merely be expressing emotions of an overblown nature as a way to mask their underlying uncertainty and fear. Persona is one of the hardest areas to judge, in my view (although it is no harder than the old, nebulous "Character"). However, in a sense, it is like what Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart said about pornography: ""I shall not attempt to define the kinds of material I understand to be pornography, but I know it when I see it." In short words: you’ll know good emotion when you see it.

Mostly covered in Dialogue, but there are a few other points I should bring up. First, Shisha I was so horribly confused about who or what your character is, that I had to look at your character sheet just to figure it out. That is a very bad thing. I know your character doesn't exactly know yet, either, but you could have been clearer with presenting what he did know about it. That also affected your Clarity. Second, keep in mind that the Character categories do not just apply to your characters, but to the NPCs who you write in the story. That said, Pallotan was unbelievable, right out. I could not imagine someone as sociopathic as him being allowed to maintain the title of knighthood in any society short of a military dictatorship, and even then he'd be shoved off onto little unimportant missions just to keep him busy, not trusted with something as important as infilitrating the Scara Scourge.

WRITING STYLE ~ 12/30


To use a metaphor, writing style is the bones, sinew, and skin of a thread’s “body.” Mechanics specifically refers to the basic building blocks of language – the bones. Technique ties things together, using different methods of stylistic devices to make the mechanics transcend the mere words on the page – sinew. And clarity is the public face of it all, what people see…the part of a body that people immediately interact with and try to understand – the skin.

Technique ~ 2/10


This refers to special literary devices, such as foreshadowing, allusion, symbolism, or other "advanced" forms of writing. This can be judged in a few ways, often interacting with the other categories (especially pacing), in the sense that certain devices, such as foreshadowing, can be used to build tension and so forth. However, Technique can also be applied to how well a special device was used. For example, if someone does a battle in poetry, Technique can refer to whether or not the poetry was good. In a way, this area applies in the same way the old area "Writing Style" did. Also, sometimes people may break the rules of "Mechanics" in order to make a stylistic point. Sentence fragments, for instance. These can be used to provide emphasis. If a mechanics "error" is used intentionally and actually provides a stylistic point, it is best not to deduct points in Mechanics. On the whole, though, Technique refers to the use of literary devices in order to make a thread truly great.

There was, for the most part, none to speak of. When there was the odd attempt it, it was usually garbled by poor word choice or poor grammar.

Mechanics ~ 5/10


This should be obvious. Are your commas in the right place? Are your sentences actual sentences, and not fragments? Do you spell words properly? In other words: are you following the basic rules of English? As is said in writing style, these rules can be broken without detriment, provided they are broken INTENTIONALLY in order to MAKE A POINT. And, as always, the moderator will determine whether a violation actually serves the purpose of enhancing the style. But, to put it simply, Mechanics should be scored based on a player’s grasp and control of the English language.

There were spelling errors and other minor problems, though at times they seemed to abound. Nothing absolutely horrible, though. Using a spellcheck would, for the most part, relieve the problem. Beyond that, all I can really suggest is re-reading it yourself, or having someone else read it. If your partner is prone to the same mistakes, try having someone you know and trust read along as the thread gets posted, and give you their own commentary. This also works with improving other categories.

Clarity ~ 5/10


Basically, this refers to whether or not it makes sense. For instance, read the following few sentences: "Becky was a rat. The billygoat jumped over the wall. ‘Oh no,’ said Allan, ‘I have no idea what to do with my life. The pretty penguins parked in their parkas while praying.’” These sentences were technically correct. The last sentence even showed evidence of stylistic touches, with absolutely awesome alliteration. Yet, did they make sense? Did one follow from another? Was the story easy to follow? I think we can all answer this question. Clarity is a way of expressing what we used to express with Brevity, only without implying the need for a short post. Clarity, in the purest sense, asks this: do you say what you need to say using effective, clear, easy-to-follow language?

I understood what was going on most of the time, but I was still jarringly confused when sudden scene changes took place, as well as the previously noted problems regarding Shisha's character in Persona.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 5.5/10


Our very own Shyam has provided the best definition of Wild Card I’ve ever seen: “In economics we have a thing called an externality. It’s when something has effects to it that aren’t directly accounted for, but have good or bad effects none the less.” Wild Card is the moderator’s way of rewarding (or penalizing) a player for something that may not have affected the main categories, but still had an affect on the thread as a whole. Wild Card is the official form of “mod discretion” on Althanas.

The story had potential, as do the characters. I look forward to seeing more from you both, and hope you look upon this as a learning experience. And believe me, this was far from the worst I've ever read. You can go far here if you put your minds to it. Good luck!

TOTAL ~ 38.5

Shisha gains 279 EXP and 80 GP
Alister gains 256 EXP and 40 GP

Alister also gains his spoil, but with the understanding that any further powers that the orb gains are to be gained in a thread, and are subject to that judge's discretion in approval.

If you have any questions about the judgment or how you can improve, PM me or send me a message on AIM, screen name SuperSonicMatt1.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.