Into The Drift (Open To One)

[Cydnar]

Into The Drift (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0dDzWP3MTnk)

2482


Fire in the heart was war in the soul.

Love in the veins was life in the body.

A blade in the Citadel was all those things and more besides.


His brother Dalasi placed great respect on the values which underpinned the old ways, and Cydnar reflected on them pensively as the soft breeze blew over the arid tundra. He wished the flame of war would keep him warm, but his thoughts only brought bitter doubt and scintillating wisps of ice crystals, cast up from the fresh snows by the wind spirits and pixies.

Time had not been kind to the monks, but through the domes of the fighting arenas, their legacy would live on. The monks would become almost immortal, until the rocks and the pillars crumbled and fell into dust. It would be an age away, perhaps an aeon, but all things died even if their death was only temporary. That stasis, that brief glimpse of what lay beyond this world was the comforting warmth that brought men and beast and elf alike back to the sands. It brought them back to the illusions and flights of fancy over and over again.

It had been many years since Cydnar had fought as a combatant in Radasanth. He had returned to the Under Dark when the xenophobia of Dheathain had grown too much, and his opportunity to travel to the surface had passed from his reach. Donnalaich was nothing more than a distant memory now, its strange creatures practically myth. Though Radasanth was still familiar to him, the streets of Corone’s capital had become a fragmented and half remembered map of pointless landmarks.

Time has not been kind to me, either, he mused.

With a patient and virtue laden burden on his shoulders, the elf keened his gaze across the infinite horizon and searched for signs of his opponent. The snow wastes were almost endless, but he knew the monk’s power, though great, could not cast life so far as eternity.

With his boots four inches into the drift and his blood slowly freezing the Hummel hoped his opponent would appear soon, no matter from where, or from what magical dimension. The wind cast the whitened hem of his attire into flickers of life as he pulled up one foot, then switched, anything to keep him warm, keep him alive.

Though the sun shone somewhere overhead, the whirling white death kept visibility low.

“Somewhere out there,” he shivered, pulling his robes tighter over his torso and crossing his arms to hide his gloved fingertips in the warmth of his armpits, “they are waiting for me…”

[Relian Tydonus]

Relian's first venture into the Citadel had been a humbling one. He hadn't experienced true fear of death in many years on his own world. His first battle in Althanas opened his eyes to the challenges that awaited him as he would explore the world. He had originally been looking for a challenge, and now that he had found it he was looking to improve himself for the next one.

Relian spent a few days of getting his mind straight after being revived in the Citadel infirmary for the first time. The experience was foreign to him it had been so long since he had a good fight. He talked with a few people around the town, learned more about the cultures and locations, and slept with a few girls. Now he was ready to fight again, and this time he wouldn't be so lenient on his foes.

He scanned around the entrance of the Citadel to see if any of his former opponents were around, and after no one caught his eye he approached the monk that set up the fights. This time the monk was the first to speak and seemed much friendly than last time, yet still had a menacing feeling about him.

"Welcome back champion. I see you are well rested from your last bout, most stay away much longer after their first loss in the Citadel."

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that I lost, I merely didn't give my opponents the amount of attention that I should have."

"You may call it what you wish, are you here to procure another battle?"

"Yes monk I am. This time though I'd like to fight one person, and preferably not someone as powerful as the last, try to make it an even match."

"I do not pick the fighters for the bouts champion. However I do have another already waiting for one opponent, his strength should be a match for yours."

"Alright I'll take it."

"Enter."

With this Relian was transported to a snow covered land, the whiteness whipped back and forth, and the cold bite him immediately. He wasn't prepared the this kind of environment, and the monk hadn't been very kind in informing him of it. His attire wasn't suited for this, but he did the most he could by rolling down the sleeves of his duster.

"This sucks... better find my opponent so I can get outta here."

Trudging forward in the snow Relian noticed that he didn't sink too deep in, either this was ice underneath or perhaps the weather had just started, he couldn't tell which. Either way his movement shouldn't be hindered too greatly once the battle began.

After a few minutes of walking he started to see a figure in the distance, he could only make out that it was a person and nothing more, the drift impaired vision over a distance. This was his time to take initiative, it was too cold to exchange pleasantries as he usually would, the snow made him bitter. He pulled Kito from his sheath and charged forward ready to fight!

[Cydnar]

He did not know how much time had passed since he had entered the tundra, nor did he care. The patter patter and scrunch of snow under swiftly advancing feet alerted Cydnar to the arrival of his opponent, and he instinctively moved his shivering fingers to the tips of his sword canes.

“Patience wears me thin,” he said, but the winds carried his declaration away into nothingness.

A shadowy figure approached from the right and Cydnar turned to the winds to face him. In short order the flash of steel and the emergence of a red duster brought warmth to the elf’s heart, which had slowly frozen into catatonia in waiting. He shook his boots and twirled the hem of his long, elegant robes to free them of the clumps of snow which had gathered as he had explored the wastes in those tentative first moments of arriving.

"Ayah!" He roared, and lifted the sword canes from the safety of his belt.

Since his attacker had not taken the liberty to introduce himself, Cydnar declined to give his own name and simply projected his geomantic aura outwards.

“Oh hallowed Thayne, give life to nothing,” with a crackle of sentience a small hunk of quartz formed before Cydnar, levitating at breast height and expanding slowly under the providence of its artisan father.

He let the sphere go with a rounded sweep of his mind and projected it forwards towards the swordsmen with an umbra hum. It was a shade of purple so deep and dark that it seemed black at first, until the last vestiges of light from the unseen sun caught it and set it ablaze with violet soul.

“Oh hallowed father, guide my blades,” he dropped both tips of his sword canes into the snow and they flattened two small elliptical discs of new dust into ice. With a click, Altheas and Freya sprang upwards and with grace, he caught them and span them in two neat concentric circles.

They whirled as he did so, cutting the air with eager hunger.

The enchantment wrought into his weapons did not trigger, which lifted a burden from the elf's heart. If it did not glow with ominous light so there was no malice in this man's heart, and no corruption guiding magic with fragile tenets.

The two empty sheathes fell outwards, like pillars toppling out of the advancing path of a snow giant and with a satisfyingly soft impact they vanished into the drift. With hateful eyes Cydnar crossed his haematite weapons before his body and buckled a knee to take the force of any incoming blows. He watched his opening attack fly through the heavy snow, carving a spiral through the downfall and scattering snowflakes wildly off their path.

“Oh hallowed tree, smite my foes…” he muttered through barely contained nerves.

The shining image of the crystal tree Yggdrassil sedated his apprehension and near frenzy at the thought of conflict after so long. He had truly become buried beneath the politics of his new found place in the democracy of the Under Dark, like the once bountiful meadow that dwelt beneath the snow.

[Relian Tydonus]

Determination fueled Relian as he charged forward, ready to end this battle as quickly as possible. He didn't want to spend any more time in this frozen tundra than he needed to, but more importantly he wanted to win a bout to redeem himself after his last fight. With this in mind Relian knew he couldn't let his guard down again or else he'd probably get himself into more trouble.

With the visibility of the environment against him, he could barely make out if his opponent had seen his approach, or even if he'd prepared a counter for him. That is until he saw a small purple object glimmer in a ray of sun that broke through, this ball of color was headed right at him and high speeds. Luckily, Relian was also pretty fast, and given the shine the object showed off in the sunlight, he was able to adjust his route in time to side step the projectile and continue towards his opponent.

As he closed the distance he could tell that this opponent had drawn two blades, and was ready to do battle. This was going to be an old fashioned sword fight, or at least he hoped so. Given that this fighter was able to throw projectiles meant that he probably had some kind of magic ability, and magic can get tricky. The best option now was to press his foe so that he couldn't conjure up any kind of unnatural attack or defense, or at least make it harder to do so.

So with this in mind Relian reached the fighter and began his attack with a straight horizontal slash coming from his right side while his left hand held his trusty steel sheath upward in case of a counter slash.

[Cydnar]

Cydnar suppressed his surprise at the man’s quicksilver reflexes and severed his concentration on the quartz. It continued into the distant shadows for fifty feet or so before the momentum applied to its trajectory failed it, and it too disappeared into the white powder.

Before he could muster insults to faze his attacker, the well forged blade in his hands cut into his waiting guard, threatening to sever all hope of the elf rising victorious and walking from the tundra with legends scribed after his deeds. He lost hope of his life remaining untarnished by another resurrection.

The Hummel fighting art however relished the encounter more than the individual that possessed knowledge of it. With two gentle flexes of his muscles, his wrists turned and brought both blades, long, slender but resilient in their formation into the path of the katana.

“Like water flowing, slowly eroding, strike against strength and set it free,” he recited one of the principle lines from the Book of Elias, the instruction tome all Salthias, soldiers of the Under Dark and Templars of the snake Thayne Yrene learnt off by heart in their formative years.

He let the blade of his opponent slow in its strike, before rebounding out of its way to enter a spiral. He drew his own blades away and counters to the katana, and spiralled around like a pirouetting dancer.

“Like a river re-directed, bring the flood waters released by ignorance to bear against the banks of the mighty foe,” he continued, the cold of the arctic wind adding a slur to his words and his hair, silver and flaxen span with him as he set the tips of his blades together and stepped back out of the man’s way.

As he swirled right, he continued to push into his spin and stepped forwards as his swords levelled with Relian’s exposed side. He had drawn on the speed, strength and application of his opponent’s attack to strengthen his own attempts, and reflected the manoeuvres with a more piercing response.

His robes shed their powder layer and his eyes, glowing against the dark back drop of his obsidian skin pierced Relian’s form along with his blades. The fear he had felt as he had been approached with such speed fell away like the long thaw of a winter valley. It ran away in delicate streams of shining water, in earnest yearning for the summer that war would become – warming, graceful, and radiant.

[Relian Tydonus]

"Agile aren't ya?"

Relian smirked as his opponent parried his slash and spun gracefully to the side, countering with a strike of his own. A nearly deadly one at that, combining his blades for double the stabbing power.

However Rel was ready for a counter, in fact he wanted it. Even though he was determined to have a victory, one that required no work wouldn't be worth it. This way he could earn the win and get back some self-confidence lost from his lose.

Kito's sheath was in perfect position for a wide block, knocking the blades to the side, simultaneously creating an opening on the attackers side. An opening that was too juicy to ignore.

With his left arm pushing the foreign blades away Relian stabbed towards his opponents gut, a stab that would go clear through any normal man from one end to the other. Maybe his opponent would find a way out of it, but if not this would be an early victory.

"Dodge this!"

[Cydnar]

Cydnar did not dodge, but the tip of the man’s blade pierced only haematite, a wrought iron ore laced with quartz and the deep umbra crystals of the Under Dark. Little chips of it fell away as the porous material cracked under the strength of the conviction in the man's arm.

He stumbled off his weight as the strike knocked him back.

“<In Yrene’s name!>” He exclaimed, arms flailing swords to try and right his balance under the shock of the impact. He had not expected to be so expertly parried, and his dishonouring of his training shamed his ego as much as it knocked the memory of trade speak from his mind. The heavy tongue of the Drow echoed into the snow mists.

He put out his right foot with a heavy thud, but instantly felt himself fall backwards.

“Ayah!” He roared instinctively, his fangs flashing in the twilight of the tundra. Whilst his opponent might have expected a swift end to their confrontation with his lunge, the snow itself appeared to have other ideas.

Cydnar vanished from view down into the drift, down into the unknown.

Breaking away from Relian the ground itself gave way. With a great crack that resonated across the floor and shook the undisturbed frosting of snow like the skin of a drum covered in sand, a vast circle appeared like a hole into the bowels of the world itself.

It spewed snow and danger up into the air.

The faint sound of armour scraping against dense ice, deep blue permafrost that might have rested there for a thousand years had it not been disturbed echoed up to the red duster clad swordsman.

The aquifer was enormous, and Cydnar came to a stop at the edge of the ragged cliff face, covered in snow and bruised and battered by his slide down the precipice. Two hundred feet wide, and veering off opposite Relian into two underground tunnels with great arches of navy blue ice guarding them, the true nature of the Citadel revealed itself.

The beauty of the cliffs which shone with the possibility of hidden caverns and winter worlds with an inner light was lost on the elf as he groaned and shifted on the floor of the cavern. He sat up groggily, and looked instinctively up the incline. Any moment now, he expected to see his opponent crest the high horizon and fly down atop him like death’s avenger.

“<I must…get…up…” he urged himself as he rose slowly.

[Relian Tydonus]

Tsk armor

Relian had never been a fan of heavy armor, it restricted his speed and agility too much for his liking. However it does have its uses in combat as shown now by his opponent. The stab he survived would still give him a nice bruise, even through his armor.

Rel was expecting a counter or at least a foul remark in response to a survived hit, but instead the enemy swordsman stumbled back, and then was gone. In his wake was a hole in the ground that extended to just before Relian's feet.

This hole led into an icy cavern, at its base lay the man in armor struggling to get to his feet. The way down looked like a slope of ice, probably too steep to control his descent, but hey nothing ventured nothing gained.

The slope was indeed too slippery to stay standing going down but sliding on his rear, Relian managed to reach the bottom on balance. His opponent was standing by then, so wasting no time at all Relian charged forward with another stab aimed at the same place the last one connected.

[Cydnar]

The familiar sound of a blade's approach brought Cydnar out from his cold spell, and he narrowly swung his blades to knock the katana out of harm's way. It struck his shoulder, chipping into the haematite hauberk once more. Without thinking, deftly moving backwards on prehensile and creaturely grace the elf snarled at the red clad warrior before channelling his energy into his blades.

Long years of service in the Hummel vanguard kept him alive, but he cast a furtive thought for just how much longer he could muster the courage and skill to remain standing.

"You are a worthy opponent, sir," he bowed his head, crossing his blades as quartz dust fluttered around them, sparkling along with the crystalline walls of the ice cavern. He made no attempt to bolster the edges of his weapons, but used the dancing flecks of crystal to focus his energy and attention on surviving.

The cold was bitterly nonchalant, cutting through the limited protection of his cloth robes without concern or regard for life.

"It will be a shame for the arena to end what could be a righteous exchange," he cocked his head, his silver and flaxen hair flowing elegantly along with the movement. Utterly aware of how strong his opponent's determination was to pierce his torso and sunder his organs, Cydnar stepped into Relian's guard with his blades crossed and the dust fluttering up towards the stars and the murky grey cloud of snow overhead.

Down in the aquifer, the wind was a distant memory, but the rush of air around a well-aimed blade replaced it like a typhoon calling for blood. He aimed Altheas at Relian's sword hand, cutting into his guard from the right in a wide, snapping arc. He did not apply enough strength to sever, only to cut, and readied himself to snap the blade back if it hit and defend himself against the inevitable icicle strike that would follow.

[Relian Tydonus]

As expected another of Relian's attacks were deflected by his opponents armor, unfortunately it wasn't the same spot on the armor. This time however his foe was able to mount a better counter, getting in Rel's guard and slicing his arm. Before the strike hit Rel tried to dodge it the best he could by bending him elbow and moving his arm away from the incoming blade, but it still cut a gash in his forearm. The cut was enough to cause bleeding but not enough to impede his sword skills.

While his arm was pulling away from the pain of the cut, Relian spun back out of range of him opponents next strike. The swing of the blade wasn't strong enough to justify a single attack and he thought it better to regain his ground before attacking again. Besides it would be rude to leave his opponents remarks unanswered.

"Thank you for the compliment, you are also a very competent foe. I do apologize for my brash attack before. I was set on ending the battle quickly but I can see that isn't an option now. My name is Relian, and you are?"

As he spoke he sheathed Kito and ripped a part of his shirt near the waist to wrap around his cut, stopping the bleeding for now. Since he learned his clothes were restored after a battle he didn't really need to worry about how his clothes looked now. This is not to say his guard was down, for it would take no time at all to call his blade to his hand to defend himself. Hopefully this man in armor would at least respond and give him time to tie a knot around the cut, but if not so be it.

[Cydnar]

“Cydnar of House Yrene,” he said softly, stepping back as Relian tended to the gash in his arm. He had not expected his strike to hit home, but he had learnt the hard way about feigning weakness to lull an opponent into a false sense of security. The cold did strange things to a man’s mind, stranger still to his sense of honour.

“I am Salthias, which in your tongue means paladin.”

With a slight bow, he watched the swordsmen draw on the resources at his disposal and tie his wound closed. It would staunch the blood flow long enough for the battle to continue and for the people of Radasanth to cast their dies on the fortunes of the combatants in the dusty dome fraught with icy peril.

“I have danced with death long enough to know that I only witnessing the surface of the truth from your blade sir,” he crossed his blades again, bucking his right knee and sliding his left leg back to fall back onto it as a support. It was a simple but elegant stance combining full visibility to the front and the freedom to move out of harm’s way should it come rushing towards him with the same rush of air and force as before.

The crack of deep ice breaking filled the aquifer as the distant wind continued to roar overhead, and the vibration of the slippery surface beneath his booted feet drew Cydnar’s attention to the floor. Whatever weakness he had trodden on to bring the drift in on itself still ran through the ice all around them. If he did not end this fight now, he was becoming ever more certain that the perma frost would end it for them.

“Do me the honour of holding nothing back; freeze no doubt, thaw no guilt, strike like a lancing wind and an icicle to the heart in winter,” he bowed again, and then drew on manna to conjure crystal dust onto the tips of his blades. With a flourish of purple light and glittering flecks of artistry, he split his blades apart and held them out to his sides like the wings of an albatross. He brought his body lower as their tips rose.

From his sprung position he looked up at the swordsman. He smiled with all the malice of the darkest heart of the Drow, and all the readiness and spirit of the High Elves that had forged peace long ago to create his ancestors.

[Relian Tydonus]

With Relian's wound all bound up he was ready to begin another assault on his opponent. He took a minute to draw in his surroundings this time and access any dangers that may develop in the environment. The ice was thick around them but it didn't seem to be very stable, the hole must have began a cracking effect throughout the entire area, it would make things difficult should they take too long to battle.

His opponent had taken an unfamiliar stance and added some kind of enchantment to his blades, this didn't faze Rel, he was pretty stubborn on his fighting styles and if he didn't know what to expect from his enemy he usually would let himself find out the hard way.

He was now ready to attack his foe and had a plan of attack all set up for the initial strike. This time he knew a stab wouldn't work, it was too predictable, but he could use that to his advantage.

"If you wish a quick death by my blade, paladin Cydnar, then you shall have it!"

Relian exclaimed as he ran at Cydnar, pulling Kito from his sheath and pointing him straight at Cydnar, as if prepping for another stab.

When he was just within range, Relian started a stabbing motion with his blade, but didn't extend his arm fully. Just before his blade was in reach to be parried he shifted his right foot, and using his high speed, spun around to slash Cydnar, combining his speed and strength into a cyclone of an attack that would cut through steel.

Ideally this strike would go through Cydnar's armor on his right side and make it all the way through his body, literally severing his upper body from the lower. This strike wasn't meant to judge his opponent's skill, though if they survived it they would be quite skilled. This strike was meant to end the battle in favor of Relian's victory.

[Cydnar]

Numb to feeling and to emotion Cydnar did not expect the haematite, which had until now stood its ground to give way beneath Relian’s thrust. Except, as the elf keened his pained gaze at the space where the swordsman had been, he realised that his armour had not given way at all.

“Grace of the Thayne,” he mumbled, blood trickling from his lips with unexpected gusto.

At least, not in the way he had expected.

He reached out a hand, fingertips leaving the hilt of his sword as it dropped and he groped at false salvation. The gentle fluster of snow which penetrated into the aquifer spiralled, dancing like Fae creatures in the chill wind in the man’s wake, howling through space quicker than the gales which rolled against the tundra high above.

With instinctual courage he looked down at his chest. As Altheas thudded onto the ice, his fears were not comforted by the sight of nothing but the familiarity etched armour, forged in fire and cast in snake coils. Slowly, as he dropped Freya loosely to his left side, he turned his gaze to the faint pan of regret that tingled on his right hip.

The blue scintillating surfaces of the permafrost, the taste of iron on the tongue and the encroaching snow blindness all blurred into one sensual overload as he realised there was a crack in the hauberk which ran through its defences and around its side. Though the ore had protected him many times, it had only tempered the last strike, and blood ran like a glacier through the six inch long break in his armour. He wavered on unsteady feet and lashed wildly at his sides with his sword, hoping to catch Relian in one last fatal and vindictive sacrifice.

Relian, like the frost beneath the morning sun, was long gone.

“You fought well,” the Hummel muttered with his last breaths.

The next movement was not graceful, nor was it bolstered by the speed and finesse of an umbra cat in a dark shadow. It was simply so. He fell forwards onto his knees, which broke against the diamond surface of the aquifer and instantly split open. He would feel the echo of deep bruising for days after their encounter, long after the humility of the monks tended to the wounds of his defeat. Like memories, they would linger beneath the skin, tainting his future endeavours until he reconciled doubt with his arrogance.

“Better than I could have hoped, feared, antici-” his jaw paused, the word still trapped in his throat as he fell forwards. His vision had blurred in that final moment, ripping away all drive to continue with his pious departing soliloquy

Without dignity he fell heavily against the ice. If he had been conscious, he would have heard the sickening chorus of steel against snow and brittle, elven bone shattering against jagged glacial stone, but he was falling into the twilight realms before the sound of his death reached his elongated ears. He fell still, silent, deathly, whispering promises to the spirits of the aquifer of flesh and blood and marrow. Even before he had passed, shadows moved in the two gaping caverns behind Relian, twisted visions of reality scorned by their long entombment beneath the fake and false realm.

The snow continued to fall.

Cydnar’s robes fluttered in the swirling downwards shavings of wind as they were caught and dragged into the ruined landscape. Blood tarnished the blue and grey havens, deep and vermillion and drained of all ambition. The creatures’ howling in the dark for a new hunt to begin was drowned out by the roar, but they would still be heard by the beat of a heart and the scowl of a soul.

There was only one way to leave the wastes of Salvar, or so the legends say.

That way was simple, brutal, but inescapable.

Down...

Into the drift.

[Relian Tydonus]

With his blow connecting solidly against Cydnar's side Relian knew the battle was over. He could feel the blade make its way partially through the armor, enough to end his enemies life. Before his adversary could respond to his attack, Relian had sheathed Kito and started to walk away towards the twin caves.

Behind him he could hear the elf attacking with his blades for a few moments in a shear desperate attack lasting only a few weak swings that hit nothing but air and ice. Once the elf had fallen to his knees he spouted some parting words about the fight, Relian presumed for he was already making his way into the mouth of the cavern.

He wasn't sure when he would be transported out of the arena but he could at least see what the monks had created had they chose this path to battle. As the life slowly sank out of Cydnar and onto the icy floor he had found himself on, Relian could start to hear a roar of cheers and jeers seemingly from all around him, and in that next instant he was gone from the arena, a victory under his belt. He was now much more confident about his stay in Althanas and he felt some small level of gratitude to his opponent for that fact, to which he said:

"Thank you Cydnar."

[Amen]

Into the Drift
by Cydnar Yrene and Relian Tydonus

As per your request, I’ll be judging this using the full rubric with light commentary. Cydnar’s scores are represented in blue and Relian’s in red.

Plot Construction (14/12)/30

Story (4/4)/10

Strategy (5/4)/10 – Try to do more than take ill-defined swings at one another! Even in a thoughtless knockdown, drag-out fight, each guy is trying to think of how to get around the other guy’s strengths. Exploring that makes for more interesting reading.

Setting (5/4)/10 – I live in Michigan, so I know snow and I know what a blizzard or a whiteout or even just what endless snowdrift looks like. The chief thing there is that snow can render a landscape featureless and maybe boring, but try to do more with it than say “there’s a lot of white all over the place and I’m cold.” I really like how the setting changed when the ground dropped away (which gave you a strategic bonus to boot), but the new area was not described clearly and I sometimes had a hard time figuring out what this should look like.

Characterization (14/14)/30

Continuity (4/5)/10 – Since Citadel battles take place in pocket universes and can seem like they’re taken out of context, the reader needs a little more to ground us in the life of the characters. What are they doing before they arrive in the Citadel, and how does this impact their lives outside it? I like that Relian is here to atone for a previous loss and you do a good job of keeping that at the forefront for him. What I needed from both characters is more of a sense that these are people taken out of their lives and dropped somewhere to fight, and not just rock’em-sock’em robots dressed up pretty but otherwise straight out of the closet, where they’ll return when the battle is done.

Interaction (5/5)/10

Character (5/4)/10 – You guys both do a great job of creating a consistent narrative voice for your characters, but, as with the setting, I need to know who I’m looking at (without referring to character sheets). I got a lot more great detail on Cydnar than I did on Relian. I like the little flashes of detail (fangs, his eyes, his skin, his whipping robes). Relian, try to give me more than the red duster and the katana. Is he clean-shaven? What do his eyes do in the midst of a fight? Does he grit his teeth when he swings his sword? Is it just his duster billowing around him, or is his hair long enough to catch the wind too? Little details spread out throughout the fight serve to paint a picture of a person you think is interesting, and I need those details to find him interesting too.

Writing Style (14/13)/30

Creativity (5/5)/10 – I like that the ground gave away, it was a smart move. Cydnar, point a critical eye on your metaphors, a few of them struck me as being somewhat awkward here. In post 13 you describe blood as flowing “like a glacier,” which strikes me as odd because a glacier is solid and large and doesn’t flow so much as lumbers through the water ponderously. I like the arctic motif you used here for your descriptors, just make sure it all clicks. Relian, I didn’t see a lot in the way of advanced literary techniques here, but I’m not penalizing you overmuch for it – keep writing, keep reading, and build upon those methods of adding more color to your writing.

Mechanics (5/4)/10 – Be sure you’re rereading your posts. Cydnar, I found a lot of words that aren’t misspelled, but aren’t the ones you want (“off” instead of “of,” “span” instead of “spun”). Relian, focus on comma usage. Try reading your posts out loud, and anywhere you naturally pause consider putting a comma (it doesn’t always work, but it’s a good place to start). Also, you want to capitalize whenever you’re naming someone (for example, in post #2 Relian calls the monk “Monk” instead of a proper name, and in turn the monk calls him “Champion.” Typically, if a word becomes a name, it should be capitalized even if it’s not the character’s proper name). Try to vary word usage whenever possible too (“challenge” and “challenges” in post #2 for example).

Clarity (4/4)/10 – Mechanical errors were usually to blame here, and much of it is stuff that would need to be caught on a thorough read-through. Cydnar, I was a little lost at the beginning of your first post, particularly the first two posts (you go from discussing Cydnar’s brother to the monks without really going into detail on either, and bits and pieces of the setting are interspersed therein, so it took me a minute to separate everything and figure out what was relevant). Relian, I sometimes had trouble figuring out where your character was in relation to Cydnar, and there were a number of awkward sentences that tripped me up (see the second to last sentence in post #12. Try reading it out loud if you don’t know what I mean).

Wildcard (5/4)/10

Closing Notes: Relian, watch for bunnying. In post #6 you don’t quite cross the line, but you come somewhat close. That is exactly the type of situation where NOT bunnying is very difficult, but it’s also the place where I’m going to be watching it very closely. Personally, I try to avoid situations like that by describing my character’s plan: he’s going to take a swing to try and knock aside his foe’s swords, and IF IT WORKS he’ll follow up with a stab. Even if it seems like a foregone conclusion that it SHOULD work, you don’t want to force your opponent to accept anything (don’t worry about it if he doesn’t, if you’re right it’ll hurt his continuity score).

Totals: 47/43

Cydnar Yrene gains 431 EXP and 687 GP
Relian Tydonus gains 130 EXP and 400 GP

[Breaker]

EXP / GP Added. Closed and moved.