A Name with No Weight

[Yari Rafanas]

Waking from a Citadel fight can only be compared to waking from a dream. Warriors may enter with complete understanding of the circumstance, taste the air with all confidence that their surroundings were real, and feel every scrape, cut, and loss limb, but they would all share the same realization at one point. Death, however excruciating it had been, would never last. And no sooner than their last breath escaped their lungs they would find their own two legs underneath them, walking away from their arena, shuffled along by the Ai'Brone without any recollection on just how their bodies came to be intact once more. Try as one may to remember their soul's journey back to the living, no one ever has discovered the Ai'Brone's secrets. One just wakes and proceeds with whatever may bewilder them for the rest of their day. These were just the rules. No one was exempt. Not even legends.

Yari Rafanas marched down the arena hallways with a permanent sneer carved into his scruff. Though he had experienced countless awakenings under the Ai'Brone, they never got any easier to live with. This one carried a particular weight to it, as it was his first 'death' in quite some time. What he believed was going to be his glorious return to battle, resulting in victory and the Radasanthian spectators showering him with gold and praise, turned into a lesson in accountability and defeat.

“Duffy?” Yari spit the name. “Killed by some Scara Brae punk named Duffy?”

An honorable warrior would have been humbled to be outwitted and defeated by one who idolized him, but Yari was the opposite. His form was consumed with rage, an anger that only grew as he exited the Citadel and descended its steps into the unruly crowds. The afternoon business of the city was bustling, and many had already flocked to check the Citadel's fight records to learn whether it was true. Was the King of Thieves really back in Radasanth playing Gladiator? And he lost? Priceless.

The crowd spread for the cloaked bandit, pointing and snickering. He avoided eye contact and snarled. He did not need to look up to know the laughter and their general amusement was the result of his loss, and it took every inch of his control to not just break into a dead sprint and flee to his forest sanctuaries to avoid the harsh reception.

Perhaps he remembered a different Radasanth, but it seemed the onlookers were a different lot—uncaring, disrespectful, and forgetful of the deeds Rafanas and his Brotherhood had done for Corone. Or perhaps, like with many things, time had burned away those memories and given them new heroes to praise. Yari Rafanas was now just a name—and it appears that name did not hold its weight in the Citadel crowd any longer.

“Look at 'im. Barely grown a beard and walks like he can take on an army. Some act, eh? Hah!”

The darkly armored brigand stopped and looked to his right at the source of the voice. Just some Radasanthian youth, dressed in barely-worn breastplate, still shiny and lacking personality. Was he some up and coming merc or just some noble boy with too much time on his hands? Yari couldn't tell but knew it didn't matter. He'd do.

The nearby crowd saw only a blur, followed the screeching of metal on metal and sparks flying from the joking man's flawless armor. In the next instant, the man was on his rear, his armor still hissing with the marks of his attacker—a stylized “B” had been carved into his once-flawless armor, red from friction. The man's mouth was agape, his gloves running over his breastplate and down to his hips, feeling for other damages but only finding that his belt felt lighter.

The crowds fell silent.

A few feet away, Rafanas appeared as though he had barely moved, but now carried a hot dagger in one hand and his victim's gold pouch in the other. Typically, this is where he would follow up with a witty phrase and flash his playful smirk, but giving his unfortunate defeat moments prior, Yari was not in the mood. Instead, he spoke with venom in his words to those who were close enough to listen.

“Best you remember who you're dealing with. Today it was your gold. Tomorrow? Your soul. Do not tempt me.”

The man simply nodded, still flabbergasted at the unnatural speed at which he was downed. Others in the crowd only gathered enough courage for murmurs about approaching guard and general amazement.

Rafanas turned from those gathered and resumed his swift march through Radasanth's streets. He would have to hurry now. The Empire's goons were surely on their way.

[Christina Bredith]

This was the King of Thieves?

Christina was no stranger to the tales of the Bandit Brotherhood. They were known from Radasanth to Gisela, and especially in Underwood, as righteous “redistributors of wealth,” taking from the undeserving and giving to the less fortunate. Not the sort to fall in with the treacherous Imperials, and so much the better for her because of it.

But she hadn’t thought to run into him here of all places, and certainly not in such a manner. She wouldn’t have known who he was if not for the buzz permeating the crowd as he stepped away from the Citadel. She could have heard a pin drop, however, in the silence that followed his assault of a young mercenary for a reason she could not adequately gather from this distance. Rather overt for a thief, she thought, but if a ranger could walk around in broad daylight, then why shouldn’t a bandit? Cloaks were a marvelous invention.

The bandit king turned from his quarry after saying something inaudible and stalked swiftly along the cobbled pathway. The murmurs started up again, followed by shouts that she knew, by their authoritative tone, belonged to the Imperial Guard. Three of the black-clad men appeared in front of the Citadel, one holding a long pike like a walking stick, the other two with hands on their sword hilts; the downed mercenary pointed in Yari’s direction, and the guards gave chase.

Christina ducked into a side alley just in time for the bandit to dash by, now moving much more swiftly than before. Reaching under her cloak, she slowed her breathing and waited. Yari’s footsteps pounded against the cobblestones, and she saw him briefly as he passed the alley. Before they could fade, the much heavier rattle of metal followed. A quick estimation in her head, and Christina figured they would be coming past the alley—

—now. “Extend, Rosebite!”

The brief, distinctive sound of metal grinding past metal announced Rosebite’s extension into its whip form. In the same motion Christina lashed the weapon out across the street and felt a satisfying tug as the whip-sword caught itself around one of the guard’s legs; pulling hard toward the alley and lifting her arm as much as possible, she threw that one’s feet over his head and released the weapon as he tumbled into an empty market stall. His two companions continued forward by their own momentum, but stopped short at the deafening crash and turned to see Christina emerging from the alley, hoodless, with her weapon—once again a sword—pointed at them.

“You!” the pike-bearer, likely a captain of the guard, shouted as recognition dawned on his face. “You’re the one from the wanted posters!”

“I’m surprised you can tell,” she said with a hint of amusement. “It’s a terrible likeness.”

“You go after the thief,” the captain told his companion, who began shuffling off down the street. She couldn’t see their prey anymore, so either he had made a sizable lead—he’d owe her for that, at least—or he’d ducked off into an alley somewhere and vanished. If he knew the warrens of Radasanth well enough, there was no way the guardsmen would ever find him if he did that. “Christina Bredith! By the authority of the Corone Empire and in the name of the High Inquisitor, I place you under arrest for treason—”

A blast of concussive energy stole the rest of the words from his mouth, crushing the torso of his breastplate inward and leaving him sprawled out on the ground. His futile gasps for breath told her there would be no more fight in him today, at least until someone could pry that armour off of him. “You talk far too much.”

The man she had sent into the stall earlier was now up and fighting again, but between the ring of steel as he unsheathed his sword and the clanking of metal as he moved toward her, he may as well have announced his approach with a trumpet. She spun and precisely deflected a blow before leveling a forceful kick at his chest; it was more of a push than a kick, really, but dazed as he was by her earlier attack and struggling to balance already with his many pounds of armour, he fell back easily. Then she commanded, “Snare, Rosebite!” and a flurry of vines burst out of the ground, binding him tightly to the pavement.

Now to follow after that Bandit King. There was one more guardsman on his tail and he seemed to know where he was going, so she would let him lead her right to her target. Christina could do worse than to have a debt of gratitude owed to her by such a well-connected figure. Besides, an enemy of the Empire was a friend of hers, and she was always eager to make new friends.

[Yari Rafanas]

There was a strange and almost disturbing sense of comfort Yari felt when he heard the Radasanthian guard on his tail. He knew the pursuit was coming, and it almost happened at exactly the moment he expected, but it was not the thrill of the chase that kept his head level and his blood warm—it was the predictability of it all. Radasanthian guard were so non-descript and timely that he almost felt as though their attention would never let him down. He knew without a doubt that all he had to do was knock over a vendor stall, stab a noble, or cause a general ruckus and the guard would come, garbed in their clunky armors and flailing about with their swords and shields. Despite the ever-changing nature of the world and warriors around him, Althanas' most reliable fodder would never disappoint.

Now all they have to do is keep up...

The hooded bandit melted away from the crowds and veered off a downhill path that would lead him straight into the lower reaches of the city. The taller buildings of the busier Citadel district cast enormous shadows over this neighborhood, creating darker alleyways and a less-than-inviting appearance to the housing that lined the streets. It was nowhere near as busy, and a nice place to dispose of his tail. Yari ducked into the nearest alleyway and prepared for his ambush.

A crash and gasp from just a few feet behind the thief tore Yari from his preparations, and the bandit turned his attention down the alleyway, a dagger instinctively brandished and pointed threateningly. It would seem, however, that his weapon was not necessary, as the noise had just come from a startled youth hiding behind a shattered crate. The kid was dirty, no older than seven, and had probably been wearing the same torn clothes for a month. His arms were hidden, obviously hiding something behind his back. The arrival of the dark bandit before him put the youth on alert, but he remained frozen in fear.

“Hey!” there was a pause as another man gasped for air at the alleyway's entrance. “Stop! Thief!”

The renegade royalty and the little boy both turned their attention towards an exhausted guard. Having no overall awareness of the situation and nowhere to run, the child scurried out of view and hid behind Yari's cloak.

“You're both... coming with me...”

Perhaps it was his invigorating escape through the streets, or the ridiculous look on the tired guard's face, or even the gentle tug of the urchin clinging to his cloak, but Yari was already feeling the rage from his loss subside. His attention was shifting now, moving away from his defeat at the Citadel and the sneers of the onlookers and onto the task at hand. There was an imperial goon that needed reminding of just who the King of Thieves was, and a little boy who was ready to learn for the first time.

Rafanas pulled back his hood and revealed his wild hair and terribly arrogant grin to his pursuer, playing with an iron dagger in his right hand. “Didn't you have some friends with you?” Yari goaded the man, “Or were you hoping it'd be just the two of us alone?”

[Christina Bredith]

Christina came to admit that her plan had not been fully thought out. It had one glaring flaw: the Bandit King more than lived up to his own reputation and proved extremely difficult to keep up with. If not for the clanking of the guard’s armour, his incessant shouting, and the way the Radasanthian crowd parted for both, she would have long since lost Yari Rafanas after her initial encounter with the guards. Fortunately, stealth was never a high training priority for the Radasanth Imperial Guard, and he couldn’t have been easier to follow if he had left muddy footprints and a trail of breadcrumbs.

They descended into the lower reaches of the city where the buildings were smaller and more crowded, bathed in the shadows of the Citadel and the taller buildings surrounding it. There was a seedier vibe to this place; it was a place sorely in need of a little extra attention from the Imperial Guard she was now chasing into it, and yet it was rare for one of their number to so much as breathe into it after nightfall. Well, the sun was still hanging above them, so either it or the adrenaline of the chase lent courage to the man as he followed the King of Thieves down the slum’s winding, narrow streets.

But it soon became apparent that adrenaline was not the only source of his newfound courage: the clanging of metal from both sides of her announced that he had received support, and more of the Imperial Guardsmen were coming down the side streets to follow him down the main. The situation was quickly turning grim: these narrow streets were not ideal for fighting, especially if she stood to be surrounded.

Fortunately, the buildings here were short as well as crowded, which meant that another avenue had just opened itself before her. Pressing the tip of her sword firmly against the cobbled ground, Christina shouted, “Scream, Rosebite!” and a blast of concussive energy impacted the ground, caving it in slightly but in turn propelling her skyward. It would be a dangerous maneuver for someone with less acrobatic training than she had—but for Christina, it was a simple matter of turning in midair and catching the railing of a balcony, hoisting herself up onto it, ignoring the startled screech of the woman inside, and then clambering to the top of the building from there.

She had lost precious moments of chase in the ascent but traded it for a much better view of the surroundings. The trail through the crowd forged by the lone guardsman was easier to follow than horse tracks in soft mud, so Christina used that as her guide more than she did the man himself as she ran along the edges of the buildings, hopping from rooftop to rooftop and blessing the builders who had such little regard for space between them.

The chase ended rather abruptly, with the guardsman stopping at the head of a narrow alley, surrounded by a widening and ever more curious crowd. As Christina crept to the edge of one of the buildings lining that street, she saw a rather pretty little picture: Yari Rafanas himself staring down the guardsman and apparently shielding a small boy from him. Rather noble, for a thief!

“Didn’t you have some friends with you?” she caught from Rafanas, “Or were you just hoping it’d be the two of us alone?”

Christina could almost have predicted the outcome of that: the clattering of metal and the soft ring of swords being unsheathed punctuated the sentence as the guard’s reinforcements pulled up behind him. Four to one hardly made a fair fight, but she was sure the imperials would give it their best try just the same.

But then there was more commotion from the other direction, metal and the gasps of townspeople, and another small group of guards began advancing down the alley from there. Well, you know what they say about speaking of demons, she thought. Now that actually was tipping the scales against Rafanas, except for the card hidden up his sleeve: her.

Getting down from the roof was more difficult and less elegant than getting up: she had to hop down onto the highest balcony, and then lower herself via the railing until she was at a safe distance to drop the rest of the way. She landed gently in a crouched position to absorb the impact, back turned to both Yari and the boy. “Your little ball looked like such fun that I invited myself in, Your Majesty,” she said over her shoulder. The knuckles of both hands whitened around Rosebite’s hilt. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Her sudden appearance gave the guards advancing from Yari’s rear only a moment’s pause; they knew that they were greater in number, but they didn’t seem to realize that the narrowness of the alley would negate any advantage that afforded them. Escape seemed unlikely at this point, and for the same reason: there would be no way around those guards unless they could cut a path through one group or the other. Besides, they now had the child to worry about—an unfortunate thing, but she wasn’t going to leave him to the Inquisition if they thought he had been implicated in some nasty affair. After that brief moment, they resumed their advance, swords drawn even as they drew closer together to accommodate the alley’s walls.

“It looks like my dance card is filling up. Shall we?” And before they reached her, she plunged into the fray.

[Yari Rafanas]

Yari Rafanas briefly considered his choice of words as a small collection of reinforcements arrived on the scene, catching the wanted man in a pincer formation. The brigand was confident he could handle a half dozen or so soldiers on his own, but the added difficulty in protecting the child was going to be quite the disadvantage. Perhaps in the future Yari would tease a soldier about befriending a group of beautiful, buxom women who really just wanted to say 'hello' over a few hard drinks at the Promenade. Maybe then, the urchin wouldn't be needlessly subjected to the violent slaying of the City's Guard.

At that moment, a women descended into the alleyway, adding another welcome complication to the already-crowded corridor. Though she was not quite what Rafanas had in mind, her brilliant blonde hair and fierce, yet playful demeanor was enough to excite the thief. Attention was one thing to the arrogant King of Thieves, but to capture the eyes of a skilled beauty stroked his ego on a whole other level.

“Your Majesty? I like you already.” Though she had yet to turn and face him, Yari hoped the smirk would come through in his tone. He motioned calmly towards the boy at his side to stay back and let go of his cloak. This waltz would be brief.

The following heartbeat brought violence and bloodshed to the underbelly of Radasanth. Yari stepped effortlessly inside the first guardsman's range, gripping his extended sword-arm with a free hand while tracing his iron dagger quickly across the man's neck. The brigand ducked low under the red spray from the soldier's wound and moved forward towards the other three pursuers. They did not have a moment to react to their brother-in-arm's death, and instinctively moved to preserve their own lives.

The next of the four approached with an overhead attack from his heavy mace, but was too brutish and slow to bring the weapon down in time. Rafanas had already placed a powerful open-palmed punch right into the man's chest, releasing a bright flash of magic light that stunned and blinded the next-nearest while simultaneously sending the brute flying into the streets. The gathering crowds dispersed at the display of strength and magic, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire should this brigand display a more destructive spell.

The third guard remained temporarily stunned from the thief's magic as the final of the four moved to avenge his comrades. A steel spear lunged for Rafanas' midsection. Being an accomplished spearman himself, Yari saw the attack a mile away and danced to the side of the weapon, snatching the shaft with his left hand and yanking its owner's gut into the blood-drenched blade of the thief. He coughed up his crimson complaint before collapsing at the King of Thieves' feet.

Panicked by the lights and blood, the urchin child darted when he saw the first opening in the battle, stumbling into the streets and heading down a smaller road towards what Rafanas assumed would be safe hiding. It was then that Yari noticed the mace-wielder was already back on his feet, only this time his target was not the dashing brigand, but he instead went after the weaker of the criminals. Though the man was much larger than the child, Yari sincerely doubted the boy could outrun him for long.

Yari may have a twisted sense of justice, but it was mainly his loyalty to his starving thief kin that compelled him to go after the boy. Blinded by these feelings, Rafanas had forgotten that his third attacker was still very much alive. He was reminded of this when his eyes caught the light of a curved sword swinging towards his exposed shoulder. Bloody iron met plynt as he deflected the blow, but his momentum and flow of battle was disrupted. The guard had the advantage now, and pushed against Yari's upset footing, moving their battle into the street. They danced as intended, but on the skilled guardsman's terms.

“Hey!” Yari shouted between swings as his blade continued to exchange sparks with the guard, hoping his blonde ally was fairing better than he was at that moment. “The kid needs help! Go!”

[Christina Bredith]

Christina was already well into the battle as Yari began to dance. The first guard fell too easily; the Empire did not train its soldiers well, and this one grossly overestimated the confines of the alleyway. When he brought his sword up, it clanged distractingly against the wall of one of the buildings, creating an opening for Christina to puncture his side with a thrust of her sword. “Scream, Rosebite!” she shouted as the blade broke skin. A burst of concussive energy tore the wound wide open and threw the man back down the alley, barreling into his companions like a bowling ball. He was out of the battle, though there was no way to know if that wound was fatal; she had hoped to end this day without carving up too many of the guards, who by and large were just men trying to make ends meet without much care for who paid their silver, but she didn’t have the luxury of worrying about that now.

She would have advanced to take advantage of the situation, but she was almost uncomfortably aware of the young boy standing between her and Yari. Without being able to watch the progression of Yari’s fight, she didn’t want to leave him behind in case a guard broke through on that front and tried to apprehend the lad. She knew he was innocent of anything except being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they would try him for theft or murder or, god knows, high treason against the emperor just the same. The High Inquisitor certainly did love pressing charges wherever he could press them.

She wasn’t about to give up the momentum she had created for herself, though. Pointing Rosebite in the direction of the fallen guards, Christina shouted another command: “Snare, Rosebite!” A verdant gem along the flat of the blade glowed with life, and vines sprouted impossibly from the sparse cobblestones around her fallen foes. Taking on a life of their own, the vines bound the guardsmen to the ground with surprising strength, and all but the one she had previously attacked began struggling in futility to break free.

They might have been able to succeed, given enough time, but Christina was not about to give them that. Yet another command: “Shatter, Rosebite!” Light webbed across the surface of the blade, carving it up into smaller and smaller pieces, before the whole thing gave way like glass before a hammer. The miniature shards floated through the air, controlled by no more than Christina’s own focus; they drifted in a loose cloud over the captured guards, glittering pleasantly like cherry blossoms on the wind, but when they fell to earth, they were more like pitiless stars. Screams and blood mixed messily in the air, and though the guards’ bonds were now cut to ribbons, most of them would be in too much pain to think of standing, let alone fighting.

It was efficient, if a little messy, and with some luck these men would still be able to go home to their families at the end of the day. If not, at least she had done her bes—

“Hey!” came the Bandit King’s voice, interrupting her self-satisfaction. “The kid needs help! Go!”

Christina spun instantly. Yari’s fight with one of the guardsmen was spilling out into the street, occupying him fully, and she could just make out a second tin-clad Imperial Guard escaping around the corner. Two guesses where he was going, and the first one didn’t count.

“Shit,” she hissed, and shot out the mouth of the alley like an arrow. Calling for the gathered citizens to stand aside—an order which she phrased much less diplomatically—she made a hasty pursuit of her prey, and his. His armour slowed him considerably and she knew that catching him was inevitable, but much less certain was catching him before he apprehended the boy—and made the chase considerably more difficult. Attacking him at this distance using the same methods she had used to subdue the other guards would pose too great a risk of harming the boy.

“Stop, you grotty little thief!” the guardsman called, and suddenly, inexplicably, the boy stumbled. Christina’s breath caught in her throat, but only after it found room to squeeze in beside her heart. Keep going, boy, keep going…!

The stumble carried on for a long moment that would have been comical were it not so uncomfortable. Then his foot caught on one of the raised stones of the roadway, and the boy fell. “Shit,” she hissed again, louder this time, and as she ran, she began to drag the tip of her sword against the street. “Scream, Rosebite!”

A clap rent the air like thunder, followed immediately by the crack of pavement stones as some were thrust deeper into the ground and others were thrown skyward. With the impact crater as her launch pad, Christina sailed through the air. It was risky—the fall would likely be uncoordinated and she might injure herself in the attempt—but it was the only way to gain enough ground to put her between the guard and the boy in time.

It became obvious in a very short time that she didn’t have enough horizontal distance to work with. She was going to land right on top of the guard at the rate he was moving. The woman bit off an oath for the third time that day, closed her eyes, and held out her sword in front of her as she fell.

The only thing louder than the man’s scream was the sound of metal shearing through metal as Rosebite punctured the standard-issue black armour. Blood streamed down the tip of her sword, pooling on the small patch of ground separating him from his would-be prey. Christina saw the shocked expression on the street-boy’s face as she ripped Rosebite from its resting place, flicking it to free from it the worst of the blood. The rest was wiped on a soft joint between the plates of the guard’s armour, and she smiled uneasily.

“Are you okay, honey?” she asked. His eyes were wide, stunned, like someone who had just watched a boulder fall from the sky and land not five feet from where he was standing. The Empire’s Law did hit its opponents like bricks, anyway. Christina extended her hand and the boy clasped it after an uncertain moment.

When he was back on his feet, Christina held him close and looked back down the street at where she had left Yari. Putting a hand over her eyes to block out the harsh overhead sun, she smiled and tousled the boy’s hair with the other. “I think our royal guest is coming.”

Just as Yari came into view through the parting crowd, she felt the boy tugging at her hand, pulling her away. “This way! Come on! He can follow!” They moved a short way further down the street and then ducked into a seemingly random alleyway, nearly indistinguishable from the location of their fight. Christina didn’t know where she was being led, but it was becoming rapidly clear that they were going to be stuck with this child a little while longer.

She only hoped that he didn’t turn out to regret that choice.

[Yari Rafanas]

Any doubts Rafanas had about his newest ally were put to rest when she responded to his cry for help. There was no hesitation in her footwork as she tore out of the alleyway and into the streets in pursuit of the brute and the small child. With that reassuring thought, Yari's full attention was placed on the man swinging the a cutlass wildly at his face.

The guardsman was easy to read. Catching the King of Thieves off guard and gaining ground on the criminal served to build confidence in his swings. There was a look on his face that seemed pure and just, as if every attack from his plynt edge could potentially put a dangerous criminal down for good. He was doing the Empire's bidding by bringing order to these unruly streets and killing this man. His blade would serve to protect the people of this city, but did he have any real idea who this renegade was? He was given a name, but would never understand the weight behind it.

“I have you, Rafanas!” roared the guard as he swept his sword down upon the thief. The weapon tasted only air and dust, its target having suddenly vanished before his eyes. The imperial blinked in amazement at the impossible feat, before his heart sunk deep into his chest with dread. A split second later, that very same heart popped as the iron blade of his enemy sunk into his back.

The King of Thieves used his elbow to send the now-lifeless guard to the cobblestone road, whipping the bloodied dagger from his body. He gave the weapon a few flicks of his wrist, sending the collection of crimson onto the street before returning the blade to its home at his hip. He spared a brief moment to breathe, staring down the alleyway at the writhing guards. It seemed the blonde warrior from before had made a considerable mess of the other soldiers, leaving most with their lives. Yari was impressed.

Hope she got to the boy in time.

Casting threatening glares towards the onlookers, Yari dashed through the parting crowds, spying the woman's golden hair and the urchin youth ducking into a nearby alley, not unlike the one they just departed. A few short strides and Rafanas rejoined them, allowing the trio to retreat into Radasanth's slums.


~*~

The youth had proven knowledgeable and swift on his feet, leading both of his rebel rescuers to a secluded and downtrodden area of the city where they found shelter in an abandoned home. The front door had been nailed shut, but it was obvious their urchin escort had been making a living there for quite some time. They entered through a broken window large enough for each of them, revealing the shattered remnants of a family long gone. The hovel was nothing more than one room, stripped of all things of value and only a few dirt-stained sheets for bedding. A small bench (more of a footrest, really) was the only piece of furniture remaining, and the child graciously offered it to Christina.

Yari let the two of them get situated and as comfortable as possible, staying near the window to watch for any signs of pursuit. He had never seen Radasanth in such a depressing state, but had also never been one to stay in the city for more than a day or two. In his younger years, visits to the city were often enjoyable, complete with beneficial trips to the Bazaar district and a few friendly matches at the Citadel. He had come to the city today hoping to re-live some of that excitement, but it seemed that he was no longer welcome in its walls.

“Hmph,” Yari grunted, turning away from the broken glass, comfortable they would be safe for the time being. “They used to let every half-demon, bounty hunter, and mass-murdering mage in Corone come n' go here. Now look. Give my name to the Ai'Brone and suddenly I'm on a rampage across Radasanth, dragging you two into a whole lot of trouble you probably don't want.”

Rafanas strolled casually towards the blonde and the boy. He shot a playful glance towards Christina, eyes lingering on hers for the briefest of moments. “That's the problem with new management, I guess. Thanks for the help.”

He turned his attention towards the boy, who had taken a seat in the dirty pile of linen, still eying his saviors sheepishly. “As for you,” Yari continued, “You're lucky to be alive. I'm damn good, but you should really thank this pretty lady for bailing us out.”

“Um, th-thank you,” The boy muttered. Compared to the armored beauty and the dark brigand before him, the child looked absolutely out of place to be sharing their company. His red hair still stuck up in several places from where Christina had ruffled it, matted with grease and dirt. His eyes, a dull blue, told a sad story that Yari didn't even need to hear to understand.

“What's your name, buddy?” Yari asked.

“... Danny.”

The thief paused at the name—common as it was, it carried a heavy history with the King of Thieves. He decided to spare the story to his company, opting to not concern the boy with a tale of lost friendships.

“You can call me Yari, Danny.” the bandit let his most sincere smile show through the scruffy exterior, turning once more towards dance partner from before. His smile once again stretched into his trademark smirk, “And what can I call you?”

[Christina Bredith]

The hovel lacked a certain charm, along with a great deal of just about everything else, but Christina was so relieved to find it that might as well have been in the Imperial Palace itself. Dust hung thickly in the air, choking lungs already exhausted from combat and the thrill of the chase; she coughed it out in futility, only to suck it back in on the return. It was surprising how quickly she grew used to it: the tickling in her throat subsided after only a few moments, though she had to be careful not to breathe too deeply afterward.

The darkening light through the room’s single window was the colour of fresh oranges, and Christina could tell the day was getting on. The guard would have a much more difficult time searching for them in the dead of night, even in the well-lit streets of Radasanth, and it would be easy for them to make their escape out into the northern plains. That was how Christina had entered in the first place. Darkness and secrecy had been instrumental in the Corone Empire’s birth, but they were such fickle and disloyal companions, and served the Rangers just as well.

Christina accepted the small stool she was offered, opening her cloak over her shoulders and arranging herself as comfortably as she could manage. She would never let her two companions know just how grateful she was for the rest: she had not rationed her use of Rosebite’s abilities at all during the fight, and her muscles screamed in repayment of that zeal. But just sitting would work wonders, and a couple of hours’ rest would see her in prime fighting condition again.

Yari seemed to be under the impression that he had dragged them into a fight they didn’t want. While she couldn’t speak for the child, Christina could only smirk for her own part. “Oh, I don’t know. I rather enjoyed it.” She, too, glanced toward the window. The shocked roar of the crowd that had followed their running and fighting through the streets had now resumed its usual dull grumble as the night wore on and life returned to normal. The people of Radasanth could forgive—and forget—a great deal, it seemed.

“New management? I suppose. More to the point, what you’re looking at is the corpse of liberty, bloated and rotten beyond recognition. People come to accept the stench in time; they forget it’s there. Until someone threatens to remind them of it.” The glance she offered Yari was meaningful. A name like his carried certain memories, even in the heart of this corruption. Memories of a time before cancer had eaten away at the liberties they once held dear. There were people who needed those memories to stay where they were: dead, along with everything else.

The child uttered his thanks for their assistance, however, and that reminded Christina that she was speaking of things best left to the discretion of more mature ears. She tousled the boy’s ginger hair and smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome, and don’t you think any more on it, honey.”

Introductions were passed around. The young boy went by the name of Danny, but her other companion’s reputation preceded him: Yari Rafanas, Bandit King, righteous thief and street legend. Christina saluted the pair of them very smartly. “Deputy Christina Bredith of the Corone Rangers, serving under the command of Marshal Letho Ravenheart, at your service.” She held the pose for a serious moment before melting into her ease again. “But you can call me Christina. Call me Chrissy and you die.”

Danny snickered at that—it was good to see the boy put on a little mirth. It made him look a bit healthier, which was admittedly not a high benchmark. Were the poor really faring so abominably under the Empire? Or was it the effect of this protracted civil war? Either way, this whole thing needed to be brought to a swift end once and for all. That was the only way to start setting things to rights.

The silence that followed was only slightly awkward, and it was Christina who broke it at last. “I don’t suppose you have anything to eat around here, Danny? I don’t know about you two, but I’m famished and it’s an hour past my dinner time at least.” The boy scampered off to a corner that was only slightly less dusty than the rest; he opened the lid of an old, splintery box covered with a dusty tarp and pulled out a small handful of apples, enough for one each. With food as expensive as it was in Radasanth, Christina wondered where he had gotten them, considering he didn’t seem to have enough money to mend even the clothes on his back, but she wasn’t about to begrudge him a little creative shopping, especially not in the presence of the Bandit King. The apple was too soft and was losing its tang in addition to its crunch, a sure sign that it had been sitting around for too long, but in her hunger it filled her mouth with such a burst of sweetness and moisture that she was sure she had never eaten a more delicious apple in her entire life.

“I guess we’re holed up here at least until it’s safely dark outside,” she said through mouthfuls of apple. Swallow. Then, “Might as well get to know each other, eh? What exactly brings you to this fine city?”

She had intended the question for Yari, specifically. She could guess without too much difficulty what Danny’s story was, and didn’t wish to drag it out of him, but the boy answered anyway. “Well, ever since what happened in Gisela, I…”

Christina’s expression immediately froze. She was glad that Danny seemed to have lost the words to continue; she didn’t want to hear them, not from such an innocent young boy. The Gisela Massacre… that was where it all started. The big bang of this universe of chaos. Her being here, fighting those guards, meeting Yari and Danny, breathing this stale dust, eating this awful mushy apple, all of it could be traced back to the exact moment when that first sword-stroke took liberty’s head.

She reminded herself to swallow the bits of apple left in her mouth. It was difficult—the memory had dried her throat as effectively as swallowing salt. There was just enough presence of mind left to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and shake her head, smiling reassuringly. It was something of a fake smile—she felt in need of comforting herself, as she had been right there when death had blossomed in Gisela like a field of rotten flowers—but she figured he needed it anyway.

“And you?” Yari asked disconcertedly, deflecting the subject away from the child.

What brought her here? The death of the Republic of Corone, she thought grimly. The execution of innocents framed for murder. The Gisela Massacre. The razing of Underwood. All of those things, and more. But in the end, all she could bring herself to say was, “I’m what they’d call a constipator.” Because, you know, she liked to disturb their shit; but Danny didn’t need to hear that kind of language. Smirking slightly, she asked, “But I’d be much more interested in hearing what has the King of Thieves on the run from the lowly Imperial Guard like a common bandit.”

And just then, a chill ran down Christina’s spine, very barely suppressed, and something left a vague impression on the edge of her consciousness that the evening was not over yet.

[Yari Rafanas]

A Ranger?

The hair under his armor stood on end at the thought. It was not a surprise to Yari that she was affiliated with some sort of group. Every mercenary or sorceress belonged in some way to an army or clan—everybody always had somebody. He was more intrigued at the fact that a fabled Corone Ranger so deep in the Empire's midst was willing to expose herself to her enemy, and for what? An arrogant criminal and some lost little boy?

Yari had never considered the rebel group or their Underwood Watch to be very different from the island nation's Imperial Guard. Both groups were spawned from the same political body, bound by laws written by aging nobles to benefit their weak and pampered offspring. Both groups would bring unrest and restriction to Corone, and in the end, it wouldn't matter whether the nation became a republic or the Empire remained. Yari's role would still remain the same. His forest would still be crowded and his Brotherhood would be forced to fight for the respect and freedom they had earned long ago. Nobody cared for his family's desire to be truly free of their law.

The soft snap of the apple's skin under Christina's bite drew Yari from his thoughts. She had already managed to get the boy to open up, but it seemed the childs's partial story was enough to upset their rebel companion. Yari took it upon himself to bring the attention back on her. He wanted to know why she was here, but the beautiful warrior's reason was brief, leaving much to the thief's imagination. He owed her a bit more than that in return, he bargained.

“Are we really that common these days? What with you and the Marshal's buddies crowding my forest, it's a surprise we have anywhere else to go have our fun,” he did his best to mask his previous thoughts and keep his tone as light as possible. “I used to be able to walk through the Bazaar and the Citadel markets with my hood back and my head high. I had the respect of the people, and the envy of every mercenary and wizard training under the Ai'Brone. I thought that today I could come here and feel a little of that excitement again, but it seems that my name no longer carries the same sway it used to...”

The King of Thieves finally sat down next to Danny and Christina, making sure to toss his cloak down over the layer of dirt and dust that covered the floorboards. He stretched his legs forward, leaning back on both hands, smugness etched into his posture.

“Oh, what's that Yari?” he resumed in a mocking tone, venom lining every other word, “We're sorry we didn't believe you about the mindless monster hordes resting under Concordia. Thank you so much for rallying the forest and your bandits to save our precious island from those fiends. Sorry to hear you had to claw your way out of the afterlife to come back to your home in chaos, your family disbanded, and your friends dead. We made sure to keep the bounty on your head quite high just in case you returned... Welcome back!”

Danny nibbled on his own apple, perplexed at Yari's rant. All the talk of politics and the sarcasm regarding the current state of Corone went in one ear and out the other, but it was apparent that the child was just happy to have an adult around that was not aiming to arrest him. Yari sighed, retaining his smile. Danny was unfortunate to be growing up in Gisela and Radasanth, where these corrupt men ruled.

“Sounds like fun, doesn't it, Danny? When we get out of here, I'll teach you all about it. You're not living in this piss-hole anymore. You're going to be truly free. That is... if the lovely Christina isn't just playing nice so she can turn me in to Mr. Ravenheart once we make it to Concordia.” The King of Thieve's sharp blue eyes searched out Christina's, his flirtatious challenge evident in his grin.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina could sense that something was stirring within Yari after her admission to membership among the Rangers. Perhaps it had been too much to hope that he would have leanings in their direction, but there would have been no point in hiding the fact; he would have found out sooner or later, if he stuck with Christina for any amount of time, especially if they lingered much longer in the festering jewel of the Imperial Crown. She was a much wanted person in this part of the world. And, she realized suddenly, she was growing entirely too used to that notion.

But she felt something twist in her stomach as Yari spoke, and she set down the mostly-finished apple on the floor. She attributed the sudden bitter taste in her mouth to either the apple being much worse than she thought, or to the slight blossoming of anger within her at those words. It was all there in his tone and his posture that he spoke in jest—mostly in jest—but the words themselves stung her ears just the same.

“You don’t like it?” Danny asked, looking utterly dejected. She smiled at him and patted his head.

“I’m saving the rest for later,” she said, and then fixed her attention on the Bandit King. “You speak of liberties that I and each of my comrades has lost, Yari. We only crowd ‘your’ forest because we have been murdered, arrested, and otherwise driven out of every other part of the country. My family was once respected in Radasanth. Now they are utterly forgotten and ours is the name of a criminal. Corone used to be my home, too.” And would be again, or she would die in the taking.

His talk of what he had gone through in the name of his country tempered her mood somewhat, though the sarcasm laced in every word did little to ease her newfound place on edge. Well, the country hadn’t been perfect before the war, that was true. Too much bureaucracy, too many laws of old men, as Yari would say, all too stodgily applied; but what more could one really expect? Walking that line was difficult when dealing with a group of bandits, however noble their intentions.

The line of Christina’s lips tightened at his last comment. “I am not in the business of risking my life to steal arrests from the Imperial Guard.” As if it was some sort of gentleman’s game! Three points per arrest, and the losing side has to host the annual barbecue! An arrest for Yari would likely have meant a few years in a damp prison cell; her head, on the other hand, would be on its way to impeding an executioner’s axe even now. Well, perhaps she was taking it too seriously. She made an effort to lighten her features. “Like I told you, I’m a constipator.”

“What does that mean?” Danny finally asked, and Christina snorted in her attempt to suppress the laugh. She shook her head at him.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. It just means I like… getting in the Empire’s way.” Well, it was truthful enough. “You might even say it’s become my life’s work.” She hadn’t expected her tone to drop as she said that, but the thought had not been nearly as depressing in her head as when it was actually voiced. Hadn’t there been a time when her chief concerns were the latest fashions, straight from the finest clothiers of Radasanth and Eluriand, and the fine-looking young men that kept moving into her neighbourhood? They seemed like shadow’s of someone else’s life now.

Shaking her head quickly to dispel the cobwebs, she picked the apple up again, much to Danny’s delight. The bottom was already copiously dusty, but she would eat around that. The small room was beginning to become sweetly pungent as the smell of overripe apple mixed with the air. Darkness had descended completely on the city of Radasanth. “Speaking of getting out of here,” she said, “it will never happen unless we actually get a move on.

“But I am curious: what exactly is your plan for when you get back to Concordia? I plan on helping you get there either way—it’s right on my way, so why not?—but I am curious.” Well, that was mostly true; she hoped he wouldn’t say ‘I plan to assassinate Letho Ravenheart and the rest of the Marshals,’ because that actually would throw a bit of a wrench into their relationship, which was otherwise getting on so nicely. “This,” she said significantly, sweeping a hand toward the outside world, “is set to become a lot worse before it gets any better. And your name carries a great deal more weight than you think it does. You just have to find the right people to hear it.”

The question of the hour was how the Bandit Brotherhood would deal with that. There was no question in Christina’s mind that the Empire would see Concordia burned to the ground if they thought the benefits outweighed the risks. They had already tried it once with Underwood, and all but succeeded. How long before they grew too frustrated with the Rangers to leave their forest stronghold intact? Yes, the world was definitely a screwed up place, but from her vantage point, Yari had an opportunity right now to influence its repair in a significant way and begin to right the wrongs he perceived. There would be none better, anyway—the end of the war would end the opportunity, regardless of who won. But was it a path he would take, or would their parting in Concordia be their last?

[Yari Rafanas]

Rafanas was not unfamiliar with the crimes of Corone's keepers, but hearing it from a drunken pickpocket over ale at the Promenade or the rebel-rallying Underwood town criers did not carry the same effect as Christina's explanation. Yari could tell she was barely scratching the surface of her history with the Empire, but in only a few short words she had shown her intense hate for them and revealed what she had lost to this prolonged war. A reputation and a life outside of battle, probably all her valued possessions, and most importantly... her name.

The bandit only gave the slightest of nods in reply. It was not his place to pry further, and were the woman before him any other soul he probably would have offered his hand and said, “welcome to your new family.” He had heard the story a dozen times before from his brothers and sisters. Unless you were born into the Bandit Brotherhood, you came from hardships brought on by governing bodies like the Empire, forced into hiding in the forest. Orphans, refugees, and the “lesser” class, all of them cast aside to fend for themselves. Christina, though, she was a fallen noble. She was not destined to play games in the trees with rogues. Her aspirations were clear and righteous, and it was obvious in her next round of questioning that she wanted him to join in on them. He chuckled at the thought.

“Well, I'm not planning on toppling the Empire, if that's what you're wanting to hear.” He brought himself to his feet, sweeping his cloak off the floor and fastening it about his shoulders in one fluid, dramatic motion. His smirk cut through the stirred-up dust and he sought out another chance to play up his charm. “Oh, I don't know, though. I was thinking something more along the lines of finding a nice spring to take a bath in... wash the city off. You could join me when we get there, if you'd like...”

“Oh, can I come too?” Danny chimed in, painfully oblivious.

The brigand felt red rise to his cheeks, embarrassed he had forgotten the boy. “Well uh...” he struggled to find the words. “How about we get you started on the fun stuff first?”

The King of Thieves motioned to the collection of knives fastened at his waist. He did a quick check to ensure they were all there—the bloodied iron dagger from their conflict before, the steel kukri gifted from the late Relt PelfFelter fastened to his lower back, and the prized Shark Daggers secured to his thighs. He took care to reveal one of the revered mythril blades of the Bandit Brotherhood, showing off the curved, serrated teeth to the curious child.

“We'll start by gettin' you a dagger of your own when we get home, kid,” a quick twirl and the weapon was placed back in its sheath. “Think you could lead us out of here?”

The boy gave an enthusiastic nod, waving frantically for his two friends to follow. Yari could see it in Danny's eyes—that hope that all the bedtime tales of Concordia's beauty were true, the yearning for the freedom and fresh air of the forest. The excitement was contagious, Yari could not take another minute of Radasanth.


~*~

With the night's darkness concealing their movements, the wanted trio was able to make short work of the journey through the slums. Danny had become accustomed to shadier routes through each crowded district, keeping the group out of any densely populated streets or alleys and away from the prying gaze of their Imperial hunters. It was only a few short blocks before the boy brought them to a dried up canal, littered with soggy waste and discarded Radasanthian Readers, which ran out to the city's limits. They followed the stone path until the carefully laid stones eventually began turning into loose gravel and soil, and the intensity of the city's lights was replaced by the moon's glow from above. With the roar of the nightlife completely out of earshot, Yari felt they were at a safe enough distance to return to higher ground and take to the roads.

“Feel that, Danny?” Yari hopped ahead of his two companions, turning to face the both of them with that irritatingly persistent smirk of his, as if he was about to take credit for the boy's excellent guidance. He kept his pace as they continued, walking backwards up the incline that lead from the canal to the to the flat grassy paths above. “That's the feeling I like to call 'freedom'!”

[Christina Bredith]

Christina chuckled at Yari’s plans and shook her head. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for hoping.” As Yari rose, she rose too, bringing the cloak back over her shoulders. If the dusty haze filling the room were just a bit thicker, the mousey-brown of that cloak would have made her just about invisible. That advantage would have been even more useful in the hostile streets of Radasanth, but the cover of night would just have to do as a substitute.

She laughed slowly at Yari’s remark and waggled a finger at him. “Let’s just worry about getting out of that city first before you start thinking about washing it off.” Moving toward the window, she glanced out into the night. All clear. “Then we’ll see.”

But he and Danny were playing with their knives. Boys and their toys… Giving her head a quick shake, she waved them on like a mother hurrying her dawdling children. “Come on, kiddies, there will be plenty of time for those later. And if we don’t get a move on,” she added to Yari through gritted teeth, hoping Danny wouldn’t catch the implication of the words or her tone, “we may have to use them for real.”

The little urchin was true to the reputation of his kind, and he led them along streets that even Christina would not have thought to take to lead them out of the city. Some of his choices she hadn’t even known existed! She used to walk these streets proudly and openly, but she supposed that people who did that missed an entire side of Radasanth that only the misbegotten would ever see. It was a side filled with damp shadows and the smell of garbage, rats scuttling behind boxes of supplies and trash, cats both feral and domestic announcing themselves with low growls before leaping upon those very rats from above. There was so much life in these unwatched alleys, and maybe it was just the thrill of the chase and the constant excitement of their predicament, but she felt connected with the underlife around her, and for those brief hours of darkness she almost didn’t want to leave.

But Danny pressed on without fail, and Christina and Yari followed him faithfully through the twisting, narrow alleys that crisscrossed the ram-straight main streets of the imperial capital. Whenever they had to cross one of those main thoroughfares, Danny peeked around both corners, then darted across and waved them on before they did the same in their turn. A light drizzle had begun to christen their escape from a cloudy sky; her footsteps through the deepening puddles were, she felt convinced, the loudest she had ever made, and yet nobody caught on to them during their harrowing escape.

Before long, those wide, straight main streets fell away, and the twisting suburban alleys were the only thing left to them. These, too, widened, and the buildings gradually fell in size and quality, multilevel complexes of brick with tiled roofs becoming simple stone or wood houses with thatched roofs just one storey aboveground. And then there was the city wall. It was high and magnificent and powerful, the sort of thing meant to resist months’ worth of sieges, but Danny had a plan even for that, it seemed. He led them along the edge of the city closest to the Jagged Mountains, where security was thinnest, and a drainage tunnel leading through the wall carried the city’s water—and its filth—out into the nearby Niema River to join with the ocean.

The tunnel was low and narrow: Danny was able to squeeze through with relative ease, but Christina and Yari both had to crouch in order to shuffle along. The darkness became complete when they were only a few feet in, but Danny used his voice to lead them along, and seemed to know exactly where he was going. She focused on that; if she let that focus slip, the smell of dirty water and sewage would surely overcome her. Put one foot in front of the next, she told herself, and she would get where she needed to go.

Before long, Danny’s voice stopped, and she heard the sound of metal tinkering with metal. A rusty hinge somewhere ahead whined as whatever it was attached to opened wide, and Danny took Christina’s hand to lead her through, while she reached back to do the same for Yari. Apparently someone had been kind enough—or devious enough—to leave a little gate in the drainage grate. For a moment she wondered whether Radasanth’s enemies knew about such a flaw. Then she realized she was Radasanth’s enemy at present, and rather hoped that the Empire didn’t.

The dim light of the cloudy night sky greeted them as they emerged from the tunnel, and the blast of cool air and fresh rain against her face were as welcome as if she had spent a day in the desert, or a tomb. “Your turn!” Danny said cheerfully, turning to face his two companions. They knew the way to Concordia, while he did not. Christina smiled, her relief evident in her relaxed smile and lax posture.

“Feel that, Danny?” Yari said with that persistent smirk as he began to lead the trio up the grassy hills outside the city. “That’s the thing I like to call ‘freedom!’”

And that was when Christina froze.

As if those words had been a mantra summoning a great, ironic evil, Christina felt a chill in the air descend upon them like a net, permeating right to her bones. The rain, falling in only a gentle drizzle, suddenly felt like ice-sharp needles pricking against her face. No, the rain was falling like ice-sharp needles: it had partly frozen in the sky, frightened of what awaited it on the earth. Christina’s blood felt frozen, too. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. She was suddenly very aware of the dead silence all around them, as if life itself had sensed something was wrong and retreated.

“No,” she whispered. “Not here. Not now.”

This was not her first encounter with this feeling, this chilling sense of onrushing dread, this feeling of life retreating from some epicenter of evil like flocks of birds escaping a wildfire. It brought her back instantly to the mountainous slopes of the North Passage through the Comb Mountains, to the ruinous fort called Old Eli nestled in the boughs of Concordia’s northern reaches. There, Marshal Letho Ravenheart had done battle with one of the Corone Empire’s most foul machinations: the Scarlet Brigadier.

And one of them was watching them, even now.

“Both of you, stop!” she called, and then she saw it.

Up on the rise of the grassy hillock stood a phantom of blood straight out of the pages of a horror story. It was a beast removed from time and reality; it stood with a stiffness that only a creature completely unconcerned with the rest of the world could attain, and even its cloak remained impossibly still despite the rippling of the night breeze. Death hung around this thing like a sickly perfume, and it was seeking to refresh its bouquet.

Her muscles seized all at once. Was it worth fighting this monster? Letho barely came away alive from his own encounter, and he had crushed the thing under part of the old fort! If the Empire had sent a Scarlet Brigadier after them, they were no longer seeking to fill their prisons with long-term residents. But she shook her head firmly. She did not have the luxury of fear right now. She needed to tamp that down into a core of burning flame at the center of her being, enough to drive her to action but not enough to interfere with what needed to be done.

“Danny,” she said, and was surprised at how even she sounded. “Get behind us.” The boy looked between them with no evidence of understanding in his eyes. “Now,” she demanded. Her tone brooked no disobedience, and the boy scurried away to a safe distance. “Yari, this is a member of the Scarlet Brigade. They’re fast, strong, and I’m pretty sure not even human. I hope those guardsmen were just a warm-up for you, because if they were anything more, this thing is going to eat us alive and pick its teeth with our fingernails.”

The thief, suddenly serious, exchanged a glance with her and nodded in understanding. Good. He would need to do away with hesitation, and Christina’s mind was already strained with the effort of keeping her teeth from chattering and her knees from buckling. She removed Rosebite from its sheath; the flat gemstones along the blade’s flat pulsed angrily in opposition to this creature of evil.

The Brigadier shifted slightly, revealing a double-bladed glaive from somewhere beneath the still folds of that blood-red cloak. No, she had never known a Scarlet Brigadier to take a prisoner, and they didn’t seem ready to change that reputation now. “Get ready!” she called, gripping Rosebite in both hands, and suddenly the creature was upon them and the stench of death filled the air.

[Yari Rafanas]

At first, the leading bandit felt that maybe he was wearing his newfound partner's patience thin with his constant boasting and carefree approach to their escape, as Christina's reaction to the cool night air and its comfort was extremely short-lived. Her silence almost seemed to say she had heard enough of his wit, but her eyes revealed much more. That look... that cloudy sense of fear behind her silver gaze. She was frozen for good reason, so he quickly followed her example and turned to face the horizon.

His chest tightened and his sharp eyes narrowed at the crimson statue before him. It stood at the top of the hill, as silent as death, gazing down on the trio with complete indifference and patience, as if it had been waiting a century for these three to arrive before it. Yari could almost feel the dreadful eyes of he wraith nailing his feet to the ground, and though it did not speak, its presence commanded immediate attention. He could not remember a time when a lone figure could arrest his movements and remove his sense of security so quickly, but he began to mentally steel himself for the inevitable.

Christina's tone rivaled a general's urgency as she directed Danny to a safe distance and gave Yari all he needed to know. In the few seconds it took for her to explain to him what this Scarlet Brigadier was capable of, Yari brought himself into a low and readied stance. He cast away his tattered cloak, letting the icy shards from the night sky bite into his face. This revealed the prevalida studs that riddled his leather-clad form, each embedded piece of metal catching the moon's glow in place of the the night's absent stars. His hands went right to his sides, pulling free the shark-shaped mythril blades, bringing them forward and to the ready.

“...I hope those guardsmen were just a warm-up for you, because if they were anything more, this thing is going to eat us alive and pick its teeth with our fingernails.”

Yari's smirk returned at the remark. The guards were certainly a game to the King of Thieves, but he admitted silently that they had given him more trouble than expected. It seemed so long ago now, but his loss to the Scara Brae riff-raff and his inability to lose the guardsman in the city was enough to a plant a seed of doubt in the arrogant thief's heart. He felt that seed crack open and crawl within his chest at the site of the Brigadier's revealed glaive—a dark and twisted polearm that immediately made Yari's arms feel ten times shorter. His soul ached at the thought of fighting such a monstrosity without a weapon that rivaled the double-bladed staff before him. Still...

“Two on one ain't bad though,” he muttered.

And then, it was upon them.

Yari's feet exploded from their invisible chains and immediately moved him between the wraith and Christina, dashing up the hill to meet their enemy head on, or so he let their foe believe. The crimson beast's cloak flared as he dropped within range of the arrogant man, bringing the glaive in a heavy horizontal sweep aiming to cut the bandit in two. In an another instant, Yari vanished, replaced by Christina and the glowing blade, Rosebite. She had moved into position just behind Yari, prepared and on the defensive. Her longsword clashed against the dark edges of the staff, locking the two forces against one another in a classic display of good versus evil.

Yari's backhanded burst of speed brought him behind the Brigadier in less than a heartbeat, but his surprise maneuver was hardly enough to out-wit his enemy. As if it had read Rafanas' mind, the wraith was already twisting its torso towards the thief, bringing the opposite end of his glaive upwards to meet the mythril dagger aimed for its back. Yari (being so used to his backstabs landing without fail) was stunned.

The wraith countered the warrior and the thief, becoming a blur of scarlet fabric that whipped and snapped at them with unnatural fluidity. It sent a strong backwards kick straight into Yari's chest, crushing the plant of doubt and sending the Bandit King flying several meters away. Christina thought to capitalize on an opening, but her sword was met with only disappointment as the Brigadier leaned effortlessly out of harm's way. Crimson claws reached for the woman's throat, closing around her neck tightly before flinging her towards her bandit companion.

The pair were swatted away like they were nothing, landing collectively in the dirt where they both knew they only had mere seconds to recover. Yari's lungs stretched, yearning for air as he brought himself to one knee, still dumbfounded he was discarded so easily. He stood, and extended his hand to Christina.

“He's fast,” he took another breath, grabbing her hand firmly and pulling her to her feet. “We just have to be faster.”

On queue, Yari willed his untamed and chaotic magic into Christina's form, the touch of his hand bestowing on her a new sense of freedom and movement. To the warrior, the world would appear to crawl about her. The icy droplets from the sky would cling to the air and descend like sap dripping from a tree. Anything and everything she perceived would move as if it had the weight of water crushing it from every side, while her form and mind would remain as quick and alert as ever. Yari blinked, and cast the magic upon himself, turning once again towards the Scarlet Brigadier, prepared to fight on his terms.

His magic and mastery over Time itself would curse him at that moment. As his eyes sought out his dangerous foe, he watched from afar as the monster's dark glaive sunk into Danny's cowering form. The black metal melted through the child, a splash of innocent blood cascading in slow motion into the grass below. Yari's heart sunk into his chest, twisting with regret and clinging to his spine.

[Christina Bredith]

Two on one may have been good odds, but against the Scarlet Brigade, Christina and Yari were hopelessly outmatched.

Every swing of her blade was met with a parry by the creature’s black glaive, and even while she was keeping it occupied, it somehow managed to predict and counter Yari’s attacks as well. She locked it in a firm bladelock and stared at its flat, featureless crimson mask. There were not even slits for eyes in that unbroken visage, and yet it somehow knew that its other opponent was coming in from behind; the Brigadier whirled, throwing Christina away and parrying Yari’s backstab. It then kicked him away, grabbed her by the throat as she sought to take her revenge, and threw her toward her companion.

In a battle of plain swordsmanship, they had absolutely no hope. Rosebite’s abilities might be able to turn the tide here—all but three of the gemstones decorating its flat were glistening with angry excitement, each signifying a release that could help turn this slaughter around—but she was afraid to do even that. Many of them would leave her vulnerable in some way, and she knew the Scarlet Brigadier would sense that like a wolf sniffing blood on the wind and strike.

“He’s fast,” Yari said as they struggled to their feet, and she chuckled grimly. Yes, the Brigadier was fast, and Concordia would grow up to be a fine little forest one day. “We just have to be faster.”

He was extending his hand toward her, and as she looked on in confusion, she felt something shift around her. The first thing she noticed was that the rain, which had been falling in an indistinct drizzle, was now… slower. It was falling slowly enough, in fact, that she could see the individual droplets as they cascaded to the earth.

The scarlet phantom’s movements were slower, too. The beast was moving down the hillock now, gliding altogether too slowly, just strolling casually toward the young boy standing there. Danny was beginning to scream, but the cry seemed too slow and thin, as if it had been stretched out over a great distance. And then, all at once, she realized what was happening. It was unfolding before her in slow motion; if she moved, if she really moved—no, there could be no “if!” She needed to move now!

And even before that thought was complete, her legs had carried her across almost half the distance between her and her target. She screamed something and pointed Rosebite at the brigadier. A burst of white-blue light shot out from the blade’s tip, crossing the distance much too slowly with a sound like nearby thunder. It passed wide of the Scarlet Brigadier, not even rippling its cloak, but Christina continued to close the distance like lightning.

But she was too late.

Suddenly the phantom was behind Danny, and it looked deliberately at her and Yari as it plunged its glaive through the boy’s chest. If the world was slow before, it now stopped entirely, and Christina froze with it. That single horrifying moment unfolded into eternity, blood dribbling down the twisted black blade and pooling in front of the pair. The boy looked like he wanted to cough, but he could only gurgle, and blood formed at his lips instead of air. The creature ripped its glaive away and turned back to its other prey. Satisfaction practically washed off the thing in sick, roiling waves.

Too slow.

That was the only thought that drifted through Christina’s mind. It didn’t seem appropriate, but there it was. There should have been more room in there for mourning, or at the very least for anger. Too slow. There it was again. I need to be faster!

The world returned to focus all in a rush, and suddenly there was the anger, as if it had been frozen and finally thawed. It bubbled up within her all at once, and she let out a scream of such terror and anger and sorrow that even the Scarlet Brigadier hesitated. “You son of a bitch!” she wailed, running to her death in massive leaps. “Pick on somebody your own size! Dance, Rosebite!”

A flurry of rose petals appeared in the air around her, kicked up from nothingness by an unfelt wind that seemed to push and guide Christina from behind. However fast she had been moving as a result of Yari’s magic was a casual pace compared to what Rosebite now granted her. The two spells worked together, and suddenly Christina’s movements were a literal blur across the battlefield.

In a single blink she met the Scarlet Brigadier head-on, and for the first time that evening, it struggled to react. Her blade came down in an invisible streak, just barely parried by the twisted black metal. If it had had a face, Christina was sure it would have been painted with white surprise. “You little bastard,” she snarled through gritted teeth. Rage boiled her blood, and she had fully cast off whatever chill she had been feeling in the phantom’s presence. “You’re going to hell if I have to drag you there myself!”

What followed was an exchange of strikes so fast that even Yari’s eye, sped up by magic as it was, struggled to follow. She screamed with fury at each swing, sending up literal sparks of rage as metal clashed against metal. Gradually that rage became focused to a dangerous edge, though no less loud for it. She pushed the Brigadier back, back, back, striking from angles as varied as her imagination. The creature was finally on the defensive, and it would finally pay.

But she had not yet landed a blow. Even moving as quickly as she was, bolstered by two separate magicks, the Brigadier was able to match her blow-for-blow, if only by the skin of its teeth.

Suddenly, Christina put on an extra burst of speed, her muscles screaming from the strain. She was overworking herself and she knew it, but there was no other choice here. She had to push until this monster was dead, or it would take her life just like it had taken Danny’s. And every time that thought danced across her consciousness, she felt renewed, and her efforts redoubled.

With that extra burst, she all but vanished from sight, and the Brigadier’s muscles stiffened in apparent shock. Suddenly Christina was behind it, swinging horizontally for its neck. It spun more quickly than it should have been able to, bringing its glaive across just in time to parry Rosebite’s bloodlust. Then the exchange continued.

Any time now, she thought frantically in Yari’s direction, desperately seeking the opening needed to end this once and for all. Whenever Your Highness is ready!

[Yari Rafanas]

Lifeless eyes stared accusingly at the shocked King of Thieves, speaking of broken promises of a life no longer within reach. Danny would never know a set of knives to call his own, the life of a boy growing old in the forest, his first love, or any of the other countless wonders belonging to the beautiful forest. All of it was taken from him prematurely by the Empire's assassin. Yari's teeth clenched and his fists wrapped tightly around his daggers at the realization, and his anger began to grow.

Christina must have been hardened by past encounters with these blood wraiths, already pressing forward in a fit of rage. When she spoke of liberties lost, she hissed the Empire's name, and now, Rafanas knew why. Before him, in bloody and gruesome detail, was the very image of evil and corruption tarnishing the innocent. A boy, already orphaned by the kingdom's prior actions, now joined his dead parents in the long list of names taken by the Empire. Yari's blood ran hot.

His warrior companion abandoned herself to the battle, the glowing runes of her sword painting trails in the night air. Despite his own magic-fueled senses, even Yari could barely track her movements as she swung violently at the phantom. Still, the blurred and precise strikes of her longsword were outmatched by the gnarled black staff and strength of the demonic man. Speed alone would not carry her nor Yari himself through this battle. They would need a power to match the brigadier's—the power to save nations, the might to quell armies, and one weapon to do so.

Yari cried out, one dagger held high. His eyes flashed with rage as he slashed downward, the mythril blade tracing the empty air and catching nothingness, as if the sky itself grasped the weapon. The bandit did not stop. He tugged and dragged the serrated edge against the air, each violent struggle breaking all logical barriers of space and time further and further until wild, untamed energies and lights swirled into the world before them. The blood of untold number of dimensions poured out of the wound, releasing the smell of far off oceans and a dusty vault. The world was unfolding now, connecting the grassy plains outside of Radasanth with a distant Sanctuary.

“Now! Return to me!”

The bandit plunged his arm into the swirling void he carved, shoulder deep in the chaos. In his mind, he knew that his soul would guide it to him—the weapon that saved Concordia, the staff that served the free men of the forest. It did not join Rafanas in death, remaining in the care of his brothers and hidden away out of respect for their lost leader, never to be used again. Now, selfishly, Yari called out for his lost weapon to once again fight for those who could not fight themselves, and those already lost.

The enraged thief tore his arm free from the dimensional scar, a blinding flash of light sealing the wound and ending the chaotic display. In his arms now was the fabled weapon—a beautifully crafted spear, perfect in its design. The midnight-blue liviol and serrated prevalida looked right at home against the dark leathers and matching studs on Yari's form—unmistakable as the King of Thieve's legendary polearm. Holding the weapon warmed his soul.

The Scarlet Brigadier (still struggling to keep Christina in check) titled its head slightly in Yari's direction, unimpressed.

Revitalized, the King of Thieves joined the fray, his haste magics moving him into the appropriate range like lightning. His quick approach put the brigadier even further on the defensive, bringing his glaive about in attempt to cleave Yari's midsection once more. This time, Yari did not resort to a backhanded dodge, instead bringing his spear overhead and down upon the opposing staff. The prevalida blade cut right through the center of the darkwood glaive, splintering the weapon into two halfs. The snapping of the wood echoed across the grassy fields.

“Christina! He's ours!”

[Christina Bredith]

Just in time, Yari was back in the battle, wielding a deep blue spear he had suddenly obtained from… somewhere. She wasn’t about to ask questions, since the fight was still raging furiously and his newfound arm would be a more effective weapon against the Scarlet Brigadier than his much shorter daggers before. The reach, combined with his speed, might just be enough to finally turn this thing around. But she realized that she had had that thought far too many times this evening—it might turn this battle around—and she was not about to put anything more to a gamble.

With a deft slice, the serrated blade of Yari’s spear—that unmistakable blue hue told her it was prevalida—sliced the phantom’s pitch black glaive in two. He shouted something to her and she immediately leapt away from the fray, allowing Yari to take his turn holding off their foe. More was still needed; even with the glaive torn in two, the Brigadier was clearly far from finished, as it gripped one half of its former weapon in each hand and began a dance of blades that matched Yari’s speed as the bandit king kept pushing the offensive.

As long as he could keep the Brigadier occupied, Christina could finally unleash Rosebite’s full potential. She just hoped Yari could distract the thing well enough to stop it from rushing for her and running her through in the process. She held Rosebite aloft, and a deep red rune-gem along one side of the sword glowed brightly, an unintelligible rune carved into it burning with fiery light. “Shatter, Rosebite!” she commanded, and white light webbed and forked along the length of the sword, like a crack splitting the surface of a frozen pond. It happened in an instant, and then the sword shattered, and those shards broke further with a glassy tinkling, and then there was a cloud of tiny makeshift daggers floating in the air before her, all glistening in the falling rain.

The cloud of blade-shards drifted toward the two fighters nearby. To Christina’s speed-heightened senses, it seemed to move at a snail’s pace—Rosebite’s abilities moved no faster just because she did—but it would reach them. She knew it would. It drifted through the air lazily, like flower petals on the wind, and she began to gather them in a cloud high over the head of the two combatants. When all was in readiness, she let out a cry:

“Now, Yari! Get away!”

The Bandit King leapt backward, and in that same merciless instant, the cloud fell over the Scarlet Brigadier in mimicry of the rain falling from the sky. She didn’t think there was any way the creature could escape from its little prison without tearing itself to shreds, even with the shards merely suspended in the air, but she wasn’t about to give it the chance; with a mere thought, the cloud whirled into action, becoming a tornado of death tightening around the phantom.

Finally, the thing looked like it was in pain, but something was still wrong. There should have been blood. The whirlwind should have picked up the Brigadier’s blood and carried it into the sky like a sacrifice to the gods for its sins, but there was an eerie, total nothing. It didn’t matter, Christina reminded herself, because she had also become aware of something else: it wasn’t escaping. The monster was trapped in the vortex! Its cloak, which had been hanging with such mocking lifelessness before, was now flying away in shredded tatters. Now it was just a mask and a tattered cloak covering a nondescript black form beneath.

Overcome, the Scarlet Brigadier dropped both of its weapons, and Christina recalled the cloud of shards which instantly reformed into the flawless blade of her own. She rushed forward, biting off another command—“Extend, Rosebite!”—and Rosebite once again broke, this time into sections joined together by a tether of blue energy. It now looked like a whip just over ten feet long, and with a swipe of her arm she thrust it in the fallen phantom’s direction. The flat parts of the whip-sword coiled tightly around its neck and it reached up to grasp at them in a futile attempt to pull free, but the cyclonic onslaught had drained much of the strength from its bones—or whatever it had instead.

“The gates are opening,” she spat with a satisfied grin, yanking the walking corpse toward her. “Don’t let them hit you in the ass on the way in.”

It was immobilized completely. She had it now. This was their chance, the only chance they would have in this battle. She cried with urgency and victory together in her companion’s direction: “Now, Yari! Finish it!”

[Yari Rafanas]

Yari's slender form ducked, lunged and leaped relentlessly against the Scarlet Brigadier. His recovered weapon extended in sweeps aimed at the swift feet of his enemy, pushing the monster back further and further as he took over Christina's assault. The brigadier managed to deflect all direct attacks with his severed glaive, but the explosive fluidity of the King of Thieves' movements and fighting style was almost impossible for the wraith to match. Something had changed in the bandit.

He was quick before, but now he was strong. His presence and skill was evident in every movement, every shift of his form appeared in perfect balance with the deep blue spear. The low whistle of the smooth liviol wood cutting the air and the look of the rain splashing against its cool prevalida edge painted terrifyingly dark, yet beautiful image—one full of movement and skill that contrasted the crimson stillness of his enemy.

“Get away!” the voice of his companion shook Rafanas from combat. He offered one last jab at the brigadier's face before he let loose a burst of speed stored his magical reserves and vanished instantly He reappeared a blink later to watch the shard storm descend upon the field, a sense of victory beginning to swell in his chest, but where was the satisfaction? Where was the blood that this monster still owed them?

Her actions revealed Christina's own desire to see this monster buried, bloody, and broken. As her storm ended, the ranger was already capitalizing on the wounds inflicted on the wraith. Her unique weapon unraveled and quickly snatched their foe by its neck. Its sickly black hands clawed and cut against the snake-like blade. It took one strained step towards Christina as if it intended to pull her into his own demise, but she stood strong, and taunted the phantom. Yari's own smirk returned with hers.

“To hell you miserable piece of shit!” he roared, arms flexed and spear held forward as he barreled towards the helpless wraith's back. With one violent, powerful thrust, his spear tore upward through the phantom's spine. It writhed and snapped, it's head rolling on its shoulders as it let loose a silent scream. The blue blade exploded from the wraiths chest, darkness and tattered red fabric flinging wildly into the air. Yari expected to feel the warm sensation of blood running down the spear's shaft and onto his clenched hands, but only the cool air brushed his knuckles.

The metal lasso whipped backwards and reformed in Christina's hands as she closed in on the melee. Yari saw her approach and used his remaining strength to lift the flailing demon just barely off the ground, and he braced for her strike. She cried out and threw her weight and anger behind her weapon, sending Rosebite through the brigadier's gut and out between its shoulder blades, the hail of scarlet cloak and shadows mirroring Yari's own attack. The two weapons crossed in the center of the monstrosity, forming an x-shaped skewer that slowly drained the brigadier of whatever lifeforce it possessed. Its movement was reduced to that eerie, familiar stillness, the faceless mask “staring” into Christina as it slowly succumbed to its fate. Its head finally dropped low, followed by a quiet hiss of its shadowy body evaporating into the night.

The rogue and the warrior fell forward into each other, exhausted from the encounter, their beneficial magics fading. Each of their respective weapons remained tangled in the shredded cloak left behind in the absence of the Brigadier. Yari did his best to put most of his weight onto his spear, but could not help but lean into Christina for support. He spoke quietly, a breath between every other word.

“I think... I think we got him.”

[Christina Bredith]

As the time magics faded and the world came back into its proper rhythm, Christina suddenly felt all of her muscles screaming at once. She had moved with such delicious speed that the lightning itself should have envied her, but the lightning did not have human muscles to answer to! She let out a cry as she fell into Yari, and even as he leaned against her for support, she knew that if he had not been there, she wouldn’t have been drowning face-down in the mud right now.

His words brought a small, tired smile to her dirtied features, but only for a moment. The thrill of victory was exhilarating, but something sharp cut through it after only a moment: regret. She froze, all of her muscles tightening, and she forced herself to turn and look over her shoulder. Down at the bottom of the hillock, where the grass glistened peacefully in the summer rain, lay young Danny’s lifeless body, drowned in a pool of his own blood.

The regret that gripped Christina was among the greatest she had ever known. This boy had come into the conflict unwillingly, unaware of the dangers the faced him. Life must have been awful as an urchin on the dirty streets of Radasanth, but at least it was life! He had been pulled into a conflict that shouldn’t have concerned him until he learned about it from a history book in school, all because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They should have cut him loose back at the hovel, told him he couldn’t come with them. But you could spend an awful lot of time getting nowhere by trying to fill a bucket with “should have.”

They had made an awful mistake. The blame truly lay with the Empire and their red-cloaked hounds of war, but Christina and Yari had a part to play in this. They had to make it right.

Straining muscles that screamed their objections, Christina forced herself to her feet and began slumping down the hillock toward their young friend’s little broken body. She picked up one half of the hideous black glaive along the way, curling her nose in disgust. After a moment, she could hear Yari’s labored footsteps lumbering in the wet grass behind her. It took all of her effort to remain upright; she felt that if she broke her concentration to so much as blink, she would stumble and roll right down into the ravine surrounding the city.

By the time Christina made it to the bottom of the hillock, the rain had faded to a light drizzle. Then she knelt—collapsed—beside Danny’s body and simply cried. Yari arrived a moment later and put an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him, letting the rain wash away her sorrow and his own.

And when that was done, when the sorrow had been washed into the river, there was only a hard determination left. Danny was the reason she was fighting. She had failed him, like she had failed the people of Corone in allowing all of this to happen, but she would keep fighting. Danny’s name would be added to the list of those who had died because she was too weak to stop it. His would be etched at the top of that list in fire and anguish.

She rose and, choosing a nice spot a safe distance away from the riverbed, she thrust the broad edge of the twisted black glaive into the earth and began to dig. Her muscles continued to scream, but she could no longer hear them. Their complaints meant nothing compared to the sacrifice of this innocent young boy. Yari joined her, and they said nothing. Each wielding one half of the Brigadier’s instrument of death, they dug Danny’s grave, deep enough that strife would never be able to find him again.

As tired as they were, there was no telling how many hours the job took, but when it was finished, they laid the boy’s body into his final resting place. Then, miraculously, the morning sun peeked through the parting clouds. The sight of it caught Christina by such surprise that she gasped and looked up, shielding her eyes with an upraised arm. It filled her with such warmth that she actually… smiled. It held equal happiness and sorrow, but it was a smile all the same, and she could almost feel Danny standing there in front of them, pleased at the spot they had chosen for his burial.

We won’t forget you, Danny, she promised, once again leaning against Yari for support. I’m going to stop this. Just watch. I’m going to stop all of it.

The clouds parted in full, and Christina felt christened by the sun’s warmth. He was waiting for her to fulfill her promise, she knew. And Christina Bredith was never one to disappoint.

[Yari Rafanas]

Had it been any other morning, Yari would have considered himself lucky to be sharing the sunrise with Christina—their bodies tired, her weight against his as they stared at the horizon—but any normality or sense of comfort had abandoned the pair to be replaced by anger and regret. What started as an arrogant challenge to Radasanth's finest warriors had ultimately resulted in one dead boy and nothing but an empty cloak and shattered glaive to show for it. Even with such a menacing force defeated, could one truly say it was worth it?

The King of Thieves lifted one half of the Brigadier's glaive, grimacing at its twisted design. The light from morning sun revealed what had been hidden by the rainy night—Danny's blood and dirt from his grave caked against the weapon's dark edge. This was not the first time he held a weapon responsible for the death of a friend, nor did he believe it would be the last, but the thief found some sense of satisfaction knowing it would be put to good use. The broken blade would soon bury more than just the unfortunate urchin... Yari would make sure it would be instrumental in carving the life out of those responsible for the boy's death and those that threatened the men and women he called family.

The time for passive seclusion in his forest sanctuary ended with the night. He would show these murderers there was weight he carried. They may not remember the name of the boy who saved Concordia, but come the end of the war, all of Corone would know Yari Rafanas as the brigand king who marched into the heart of Radasanth and cut off the Crimson Hand of the Empire.


~*~

[[Spoils requested include one half of the Scarlet Brigadier's glaive go to Christina and the other to Yari. The weapon is entirely black and crafted out of damascus and elkan. It has hidden magic properties that remain as mysterious as the Scarlet Brigadier that once wielded it.

Pushed to his limits, Yari used a combination of his Rift and Hidden Bond abilities to recover his spear from its hidden sanctuary. The weapon has a serrated prevalida spearhead and deep blue liviol staff, as detailed in my profile. Thank you for reading!]]

[The International]

I’ll start with saying this was an enjoyable read. Thanks for requesting me as a judge for this one. I will say it’s a damn shame Yari has decided to join the dark side. :(

Plot Construction 22 /30

Story 8 /10 – When I first became a moderator I expected to review more threads like this – action in which characters were pushed to their physical and supernatural limits. Perhaps it’s just because of the way I pick from the litter, but I sure am glad this is the first of them. It was straight forward, simple, and concise. I knew where the rising action was, where the climax was, so on and so forth, and you managed the energy of the entire thing so very well. While it is good, I have read your works as a player (and a bit of a fan) and I know you’re both able to weave a much more intricate and deep story.

Strategy 6.5 /10 – Extraordinary! Rosebite is awesome! At the end of the thread I knew that the two layer characters were pushed to their limits and then some. You were both tactically creative with yourselves, each other, and the Wraith. My one qualm is the initial attack, where Yari faked the Wraith out and Christina attacked from behind Yari. That seemed to me to be something two characters who knew each other well would be able to coordinate, and these two have just met. After that, however, it was golden. I’m learning from the two of you.

Setting 7.5 /10 – It was good. My developing philosophy about setting is that it must be used when it means something to a character, or when it is needed for something later (ie Chekov’s Gun). The two of you did that for the most part. It was particularly nice to see how the two of you approached Danny’s hideout. Your narrative reflected your characters and their differing viewpoints. Yari was unaffected by the humble surroundings, thus his narrative was straightforward, only taking a bit of offense to the fact that this boy had to live here. Christina’s was a bit more high brow, taken back just a bit by the fact that she had to deal with them, but I imagine if this were level 0 Christina, she’d have a lot more to say. With that being said, I’d like a little more of this.

Characterisation 22 /30

Continuity 8 /10 – What I love about continuity is that we get to address it on so many levels. The most successful was the character level. Witnessing a child dying at the hands of a Wraith would be more than enough to bring many people to the Rangers, but it would take nothing less to bring Yari to their side. The story reflected the Wraith and managed to build upon the creature’s attributes. What I would have loved to see was a bit more aftermath in terms of Yari’s name being added to the ranks of the Rangers. What does it do for their morale? How do they change their strategy with him on board?

Interaction 6 /10 – Even though you guys made mention of bunnying permissions I kinda wish you would have taken more advantage of it. I see this particular trend a lot in Althanas especially in battles. Player 1 Posts, then Player 2 posts reflecting on Player 1’s actions and dialogue then responds. It seems to hurt pacing, and I feel like the two of you are good enough writers and experienced enough players to bunny one another completely to create a dynamic dialogue without hurting the pacing.

Character 8 /10 – I’m going to be honest. At first, when I was told this was the story that bring Yari to the Rangers I was like “Aw man! Here’s another player who just wants to be with the good guys.” Now, that was partially because I liked the idea of a truly amoral player character either being detached from the conflict or working both sides. At the beginning Yari was that, but as a player you gave him ample reason to join the Rangers. As for Christina, I have seen massive growth from her and as a writer you should be extremely proud of yourself and the way that you have brought her up. As I read the thread I constantly told myself ‘level 0 Christina would have done this or that’… in a good way. However, I think there was an ‘odd couple’ dynamic that I felt could have been developed here (not necessarily romantic), so I hope it will be revisited in later projects.

Writing Style 23 /30

Creativity 6 /10 – When I look at a plot as straight forward as yours was I sometimes expect the use of literary and rhetorical devices to be utilized in a big way. That didn’t happen much here. The language in your narrative was on par with good writing, but I’ve seen the both of you do better. Just look at some of your longer, more time consuming quests and you’ll know what I mean.

Mechanics 9 /10 – You guys went back and revised well. I wish I had an eye like that for my own work.

Clarity 8 /10 – I had to re-read the portion of the quest where Yari gave Christina his speed, and Christina multiplied it with her own ability. Other than that it was all understandable.

Wildcard: 8 /10 – I liked it.

Total 75 /100

Yari Rafanas earns 1425 exp and 400 gp from the brute in the Citadel

Christina Bredith earns 1050 exp and 200 gp

Spoils are approved.

[Breaker]

EXP / GP added. Moved.