Unable to Look Back (open)

[Roscar Palidyne]

Shadows of sea waves are seen as if looked through eyes barely ajared. Scents of blood rush up Roscar's nostrils and the cries and vengeful yells of hundreds of lives accost his senses and his very mind. Were these the ways that the dead were able to strike back at those wicked enough to fell them? Yes....yes, it must be was the last thought of the true Roscar Palidyne.

Let there be......

A Tavern?

Once his senses were about him, Roscar suddenly realized that he was outside of a tavern, a tranquil little place shaded by luscious temperate trees, as if they were guarding some untainted region of the world as the overprotective father does to their precious only daughter. Without the idea of anything else motivating him, he stepped inside.

Meandering would have been a better description of the way he entered, for every chair, table, dark corner, pipe, mug, and person was a flood of new experience to fill the void of his ravaged memory. But, unbeknownst to him was his location in space, and also unbeknowst to him, was the bar that he was about to slam into. His large body smashes into the side of the finely polished bar, rattling all the glasses violently and tipping over one of the cups of a bar patron, tumbling ale into his lap. The man, much shorter and scrawnier than Roscar, jumps up furiously to turn to the person who had just ruined his new shirt. He gasped at what he saw. Roscar, a man who towered above him, whose shoulders alone were about the size of the scrawny man's head, not to mention the short spear that hung strapped on his back. Despite all of this, Roscar's eyes were apologetic and somewhat childlike, like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The man barely squeaked out his next words.

"Ahem.....well.......I'll....let it slide.....this time....."

With that, he casually but swiftly took his seat at the end of the bar, far away from Roscar's reach. Speechless, Roscar looked at the pile of broken glass and spilt ale. A yellowish reflection looked back on him, showing the same face that had scared off the poor man, and suddenly realized something.

He didn't recognize it.

Like a threshold finally cleared, on came the question. A flood of doubt and confusion set in just as quickly as he had forgotten them all.

Who am I? Where did I come from? What have I done? How old am I?! My mother, my father? Wife? Daughter? Neice, nephews, aunts, uncles, ancestry, race, favorite color, musical instrument, friends, family, LIFE? And where am I?!?!

Trapped in his mind, he begin to hear something in the distance, coming closer and closer. Was it his mother? Someone he knew? Some clue as to who he was, besides this name that had been the only thing he had retained, Roscar Palidyne? The sound began to get louder, courser and abrasive, and suddenly it was as if a war clashed on inside his ears, and covering them wasn't enough, no, not working, he wanted to scream for the pain, and he couldn't escape it.

"Hey, hey buddy? You alright??"

The bartender shakes him to back to reality, and Roscar realizes he had slunk into a slightly uncomfortable barstool, head on the counter. Looking up at his waker, he despaired at the fact that he didn't know him either. The bartender looks at Roscar and shakes his head, placing a bar glass on the counter.

"One on the house. What'll you have?"

This question made Roscar want to cry.

"I.........don't know."

[IBB]

It had been a long time since Dayas had been outside of a city setting, and so he was greatly comforted to know that there was a lone tavern nestled amongst the trees in this way-too-quiet town. He quietly slinked into it, his hood pulled low to conceal most of his face. Out of habit, he gave the inside a cursory once-over for pretty girls to loot. Finding too many of the females here lacking in either the looks or the loot department, he sullenly meandered over to the bar.

He sat down a couple seats away from a rather large man as the bartender set a glass down in front of him.

"One on the house. What'll you have?"

The man seemed upset at the question, and answered, "I... don't know."

Dayas put on his customary grin as he called to the barkeep, "Might want to give 'im something strong. It sounds like he needs it." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And another one for me, if you please."

As the barkeep shrugged and went rummaging for a bottle and another glass, Dayas sidled over another seat, silently cursing his newfound instincts warning him not to get too close. Still grinning under his hood, he held out a hand to the larger man.

"The name's Dayas. Who might you be?"

[Roscar Palidyne]

"Might want to give 'im something strong. It sounds like he needs it." "And another one for me, if you please."

Looking to his right, a man, scrawny and covered by a hood, had apparently occupied the seat where the man he had dropped booze on earlier was sitting. He seemed to be going for a mysterious look about him, hooded to not show all of his features, but he only came off as a little goofy.

"The name's Dayas. Who might you be?"

He seemed nice enough, outstreaching his hand in a friendly welcome, if not a little aloof by the hood hiding most of his face. Roscar slowly puts up his hand to meet this fellow, grasping his somewhat firmly and shakes it a little awkwardly, as if he hadn't done such a thing in his entire life.

"I'm....Roscar. Roscar Palidyne, I guess. That's the only name I know."

After giving the handshake, Roscar first notices the ring that had always been slipped on his right hand. An obsidian piece of work, it seemed rather normal in appearance but there was something else to it, some kind of mystical property that make it familiar to him. But alas, another mystery that had to someday be solved. Turning back to the man, realizing he was still there, Roscar bit his lip before opening his mouth.

"Where am I?"

The bartender, placing down a couple of glasses filled with something rather stiff, frowned at Roscar, thinking he must be out of his wits. The bartender's last bit of compassion was spent on giving the troubled Roscar one stiff drink. He walked away, washing his hands of it.

[IBB]

He was surprised that the man's handshake was so awkward, given his apparent age. Dayas wasn't exactly in the habit of shaking hands, either, but he wasn't this inexperienced.

"I'm....Roscar. Roscar Palidyne, I guess. That's the only name I know."

What kind of a man doesn't know his own name? Dayas wondered to himself. An indignant chirp at the back of his mind reminded him. He scowled mentally. You're a bird, you don't count.

After releasing the handshake, he reached for the mug placed before him and looked at the stuff inside. He wasn't really in the habit of drinking heavily; a drunken thief was more likely to make mistakes, mistakes that could cost him dearly in the end.

He scowled briefly at the thought, grabbed the mug, and quickly took a swig. He was temporarily so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn't hear the man's question.

"Where am I?"

Putting down the mug, Dayas turned to him and pushed his hood back enough for most of his face to be visible. He pushed back some of the yellow tips of his hair and offered Roscar a wry smile.

"In a tavern in the middle of nowhere," he answered, half jokingly.

[Roscar Palidyne]

Roscar scrunched his eyebrows a little at this answer. He had gathered this was a small little tavern, but where? He was able to see the face of this man, Dayas, now, and just as he expected, the face wasn't familiar. Luckily for Roscar, there was a map tacked on the wall behind the bar counter. A large world expanded on the parchment, and there lay a single dart stuck into the map, right in the middle of an island continent. He assumed that this was where he was. Corone. The town of Underwood. None of these names struck a bell, though. However, one place did stick into his mind, and a feeling came over him that Roscar should find his way to this place. Scara Brae. Something might be waiting for him there. He put that in the back of his mind...or rather, right behind the top of it.

Roscar suddenly felt like there was an awkwardness in the silence between this Dayas and he. Trying to think of something to say, he took a quick swing of the drink in front of him, cleared his throat and turned back to Dayas.

"So....what exactly brings you to this 'tavern in the middle of nowhere'?"

It was a valid question. This man seemed to look about the room from time to time, as if waiting for something to happen. A guy like this may be better off in a bigger city. After asking, Roscar took his gaze around the room, hoping that something may tip him off as to who he is or what he is doing here.

[IBB]

Dayas followed Roscar's gaze to the map absently. His geography had never been very good, and the fact that he was already getting a little tipsy didn't help matters much. His senses were still sharp, at least sharp enough for him to detect movements out of the corner of his eye. As much as he missed the bustle of the city, this quiet little town didn't seem so bad; he didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder nearly so much. Old habits die hard, though, and it never hurt to check.

He took a swig of his own ale, and noticed Roscar do the same. Just as he was finishing, Roscar cleared his throat.

"So....what exactly brings you to this 'tavern in the middle of nowhere'?"

Dayas barely managed to avoid spitting out his ale; instead, he choked. He coughed a few times to dislodge the ale that had gone the wrong way, and then shook his head. This was the one thing he didn't really want to talk about.

"Long story," he said, finally. He glanced at Roscar and grinned. "Short version? I got lost."

It wasn't a lie; he was, in fact, lost. He stared at the map again, this time trying to find a way to orient himself, and figure out where he should go next. Unfortunately for him, the ale was starting to try its damn hardest to make things difficult for him. He stared somewhat morosely at the ale still in the mug.

Damn, I'll be lucky if I don't pass out before I've finished this stuff, he mused.

[Roscar Palidyne]

After the man nearly choked over his own drink, it was apparent that this question had indeed struck some nerve of his. It didnt' bother Roscar much; it was anyone's right to want to keep information from each other, especially if the person who asked was a complete stranger. But by the looks of it, Dayos's problem at the present was handling his liquor. Roscar grinned at him, watching the man slowly being affected by the drink. It seemed that Roscar was used to this kind of booze, because after taking his last swig, he wasn't really much affected by it. Roscar put his hand on the black-crowned fellow's shoulder.

"You ok there? Maybe you should slow down on that ale a little.....it's hitting you pretty hard," Roscar said with a slightly patronizing tone.

With that remark, Roscar smirked and motioned his hand to the bartender, gesturing that he wanted another glass. All joking aside, Roscar was glad to have this guy around....he was truly helping Roscar out by keeping his mind off of the world that he knew nothing about, nor did it look like anyone knew him. Suddenly, boots began to stomp closer and closer towards Roscar. There had to be about 4 people, by the sounds of the steps. Acknowledging that they were indeed coming straight towards Roscar, he turns around and sees the guy he had spilled ale on earlier. Apparently he had obtained a new shirt, a powder blue variety, that he seemed to be very proud of. Gesturing to Roscar, he turned to the muscled men that he had with him.

"See that guy? Yeah, he's the one. Dumped his mug on my shirt, and then he shoved me down, the old bastard."

With that, the 3 men begin to enclose themselves around both Roscar and Dayas, who was apparently getting more and more drunk by the minute. Roscar doubted he had even noticed them yet. With a breath, Roscar stood up to meet the men. One of them was a little taller than Roscar, and the rest were just about his height, wearing shirts entirely too small for them to accentuate their muscles they had apparently worked hard in an unforgiving sun to obtain. Roscar acknowledges them all.

"Alright guys, look, I accidently spilled the ale by running into the bar. As for the shoving, that wasn't me. We don't have to fight, do we?"

The tall one of them snorts at this response. Another, a bald one, cracks his knuckles, and the one with a dirty mustache picks his ear with his pinky. Well, Roscar had definitely gotten his answer: this wasn't a negotiation. He remembers Dayas, who honestly had nothing to do with this unfortunate state of events, and speaks up for him.

"Well, leave this guy outta this. He didn't do anything."

The hired muscle laughs at this. They all 3 look at the comparatively small Dayas and make mocking baby faces at him. Roscar knew this wasn't going to end well.

[IBB]

Dayas glanced at the hand Roscar put on his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. He wasn't exactly used to this kind of gesture, but he wasn't in the mood to shake it off, either.

"You ok there? Maybe you should slow down on that ale a little.....it's hitting you pretty hard," Roscar said with a slightly patronizing tone.

Dayas scowled at him as he turned to the bartender and took another swig just to spite him. He didn't like being patronized, even if he was just trying to be friendly.

He also noticed the sound of boots approaching them and glanced groggily at the men approaching them, but at first didn't think much of them.

"See that guy? Yeah, he's the one. Dumped his mug on my shirt, and then he shoved me down, the old bastard."

Dayas's eyes widened slowly in alarm as he realized they were being surrounded by three very large, strong men. He may have been drunk, but even in his inebriated state he wasn't dumb enough to try to take on three men who were clearly stronger than him. He glanced around, trying to find a way out of this that wouldn't involve him getting his face pounded in by these menacing men. Meanwhile, Perchik was making alarming noises at the back of his mind. He silently told the bird to shut up.

"Alright guys, look, I accidently spilled the ale by running into the bar. As for the shoving, that wasn't me. We don't have to fight, do we?"

Dayas turned in his seat to face the men and see their reactions. From their responses, however, Dayas had a bad feeling that no matter what he or Roscar tried to say, these three were going to cause trouble, and it was going to hurt.

"Well, leave this guy outta this. He didn't do anything."

Dayas gave the biggest grin he possibly could, which just made him look incredibly goofy, and gave a little wave.

The grin shrank as the three men burst into laughter. It then disappeared and was replaced by a snarl as the men suddenly made baby faces at him.

"Oh, that is it," Dayas muttered, and stood up swiftly. He opened his mouth to give them a piece of his mind... and instead doubled over and gave them a piece of his stomach.

...Shit, he thought. What was that about costly mistakes?

Dayas looked up at the man whose shoes he had inadvertantly retched on, and offered an apologetic grin. It didn't seem like it helped his case.

[Roscar Palidyne]

Roscar could do nothing but laugh nervously as the sight of Dayas hurling whatever he had in his stomach one of the unsuspecting beef-heads. At first the man looks down to make certain that Dayas had just puked on his shoes (not that someone would mistake it for something else). Satisfied with his observations, the man slowly raises his face to Dayas, his eyes wide with fury. He regards the grinning drunken idiot before grabbing his shirt collar with his left hand, bringing back his right fist to smash Dayas's face in.

Reacting fast, Roscar rears his body back before sprinting forward, bending his body forward and tackling guy who was about to punch Dayas. Roscar and the mustached guy go flailing directly into a wooden table, sending the guy crashing through old pine, ale mugs, and some playing cards. Once at a standstill, Roscar throws a couple of punches directly to the face of the guy, busting his nose open, sending the man's body limp. Roscar catches his breath for a second, realizing his age for the first time by the physical toil this was putting him through. His heart was hard at work, even after such a short skirmish.

Turning around, the two men that Roscar had briefly forgotten was standing above him, fairly angry. The tallest grabs both of Roscar's arms, bringing them behind his back and holding them tightly against Roscar's struggling, while the other one took turns dealing halting blows to the aged Roscar. All he could do was grunt at each blow and grit his teeth through the pain. He didn't know how long he could last through this. At least Dayas was alright. He hoped.

[IBB]

Dayas stumbled backwards into the bar and attempted to use it to steady himself. His head was spinning too much for him to be able to focus clearly, but the sounds of two bodies crashing through a table was still distinct to him.

He looked blearily off in the direction of the noise and dimly made out the other two men moving towards Roscar and their fallen comrade.

Now would be a good time to sneak on out of here, Dayas thought. He started trying to hobble away, using the bar to steady himself, until he heard the sound of someone being punched repeatedly. Something didn't seem right, and he blearily looked over again to find Roscar pinned down while the bald man had at him.

Now, thieves are typically solitary creatures, and Dayas was no exception. He'd never really known many people that he'd consider "friends" outside of Paomé, and he honestly wasn't sure if he'd consider this stranger that he had just met one of those few. What he was sure of, however, was that this stranger had just saved him from getting his face punched in; that had to count for something, right?

Against his better judgment, he fumbled for the dagger hidden in his boot and lunged towards the bald man. He was still a little shaky (or, rather, uncoordinated) from the drink, but his dagger managed to get the man in the back of his knee. The bald man went down on one knee with a yell, and swivelled around to face his assailant as Dayas retrieved his dagger. He smacked Dayas in the head just as he managed to free the dagger, sending him sailing along the floor a couple of feet. His dagger stopped a foot or so away from him.

During Dayas's little distraction, the tall man's grip on Roscar's arms loosened slightly.

[Roscar Palidyne]

Blow after blow after blow. Things weren't going well for his first day being alive.....well, in Roscar's terms. Gasping for the breath that was being brutally beat out of him, Roscar felt his vision beginning to fail. This was what being about to pass out felt like. He didn't enjoy it. But suddenly the beating stopped, and instead of him it was the bald guy in pain, actually tearing up at the knife that had just been lodged in his leg. With a sniffel, he turns to deal with the attacker, who had been Dayas, leaving Roscar to deal with the tall oaf who had been holding him in teh first place. Feeling the guy's grasp lessen, Roscar knew this was his chance. Very swiftly, Roscar wrenches his arms free, grabbing the tall guy's left arm with his right, and pulling him towards Roscar with full force. Roscar's left arm rose up to violently clothesline him, crashing his body to the ground.

Two down.

The last one had just knocked down Dayas with one swing, sending the smaller guy flying a couple feet. The guy was wiping his eye a little from the tears of pain, which was rather pathetic to behold considering his size. Before he has a chance to follow up wiht another attck on Dayas, Roscer grabs the back of the bald guy's head, and sends him headfirst into the bar, smashing his forehead a couple of times on the bar before tossing his head into another table. Other patrons were getting very ornery over the entire event, and fights were starting to brew all over the entire bar, but everyone stops in their tracks as a loud BANG! erupts a very sudden silence through the entire room. The bartender, with a revolver in his hand, had just fired it pointing up to the ceiling. He then brought it down to point all around the room, muttering something about how he'd have to repair his ceiling before he went on.

"I'll have nonna that in my bar! You knock this nonsense off now, or you all gonna have holes so big in your chest you're gonna be growin' crows in there!"

The man who had started this all, the guy in the powder blue shirt, was creeping his way out of the bar before the bartender aimed his pistol at him, yelling for him to stop. The scrawny punk turns around slowly, hands up.

"Where you goin', small fry? You're the one who started this whole mess. Get yer ass up here!"

Reluctantly, but too afraid to cross the old bartender, the coward slowly approaches the bar, standing right next to Roscar now. The bartender points his gun to the man's money pouch. The man looks at it, looks at the bartender, looks at it again, and shakes his head softly. Not amused, the bartender cocks the lever of the revolver, and quite quickly the man places the pouch on the bar. The only thing that could be heard over the hush of the entire Peaceful Promenade was the sound of gold being counted out of the money pouch. The bartender pulls out the amount of 300 gold pieces from the pouch, and tosses it back to the shivering guy in the extremely distasteful powder blue shirt. The bartender separates 100 gold pieces from the pile, and pushes it towards Roscar. Bewildered, Roscar looks down at the money, then looks back at the bartender, whom explained himself.

"These guys put you through a lot. Plus you kinda look down and out. I only need the 200 to pay for damages and the customers they cost me, you can keep that last bit for yourself."

Roscar gazes at the bartender, giving him a thankful nod. Roscar takes half of the gold and leaves it in his hand. The rest of it he leaves on the table, looking over at the map that hung on the wall. He looks back at the bartender.

"Right now I don't know who or where I am. I'm not sure what I should do with myself, but I feel like I need to travel and find pieces of myself around the world. But, I'm gonna need a map to do it. Could you take that 50 gold and allow me to have that map on the wall?"

The bartender looks at the map, as if he had forgotten he had it for a minute, before turning back to the inquiring Roscar.

"Hmm, now, that map ain't no normal piece of parchment. That dart stickin' outta it ain't normal either. You see, whenever you throw that dart into the map, it'll land exactly where the thrower is located on that map. Not only that, but the dart's got little X on the top of it, and it'll rotate to the exactly direction where you are pointed whenever it's thrown. I'll have to think about this a little."

Roscar nodded at this response. It seemed like a wonderous treasure, something you can't really come across every day. A little moment of hesitation was reasonable. Turning around, he watches the coward that was standing next to him take his money pouch quickly and storm out the door. The rest of his little minions trudge out, bearing their wounds with a limp or a holding of their head. Roscar, a little beat up himself as he was bearing some bruises and a slightly bleeding lip, notices the collapsed Dayas and helps him up. As he does, Roscar places the 50 gold in one of his hands. He owed him for the help.

"Thanks, that was pretty decent of you. Oh and sorry for all the trouble. I have a feeling I'll be encountering a lot more, so it might be best you don't get caught around me."

Roscar holds out his hand to shake with the brave Dayas, this time prepared to greet him with a stronger and more controlled shake, worthy of a friend.

[IBB]

The blow the bald man dealt him had temporarily knocked Dayas out. He lay motionless for a few moments, managing to sleep through even the gunshot. It wasn't until Roscar helped him up that he started to rouse himself; the first thing he noticed, before anything else, was the skull-splitting headache he now had. The next thing he noticed was the 50 gold being placed into his hand.

"Thanks, that was pretty decent of you." It didn't register with Dayas at first what the praise or the reward were for, since he neither was in the habit of helping nor was he really used to being praised. It took him a couple of moments to realize Roscar was thanking him for stabbing someone with his dagger and getting smacked across the room for it.

"Oh and sorry for all the trouble. I have a feeling I'll be encountering a lot more, so it might be best you don't get caught around me."

Dayas grinned back and took the offered hand. He was rather surprised at how much firmer and surer this one was than the last one.

"Naw, that's all right. I've kinda been needing to blow off some steam, anyway," Dayas answered. "And given the kinda stuff I do, you probably don't wanna be caught around me, either," he added with a wink. "Though I usually make it a habit to avoid trouble whenever I can."

He winced and put a hand to his head, suddenly remembering the headache.

"Though this little bit of trouble's my own damn fault."

He looked over to his mug on the bar. Sometime in the course of either their tussle or one of the ensuing battles it had been knocked over, and what had remained of its contents were now spilled all over the bar.

"Huh. Looks like I didn't get to finish it before I passed out," he said to himself. "Ah well."

[Roscar Palidyne]

As the two hands of Roscar and Dayas met, a warm feeling developed in his hand. He wasn't sure of what of, or why it was there, but it was definitely odd. Strangely, Roscar felt like he could breath a little easier. Also, his body (and mainly his bones) had lost a little of the soreness it had been retaining. Looking at his hand, his eye locked on the mystifying but rather ordinary black obsidian ring on his finger. Had it caused that weird spring of feeling? Roscar wasn't certain, which was his general attitude for everything right now, but for now he'd accept the mystery. At least it wasn't harming him..

"Hey, bud! Come over here," the bartender says, putting up his eyeglasses that he had been looking at the map with.

Roscar turns his head quickly to the bartender, walking steadily over to the bar. The bartender laid the map on the bar, fulled opened, with the dart laying next to it.

"This map's been with me for many years now.....and I know for a fact that this ol' thing could catch me much more money than you're offerin'."

It was true, a relic like this didn't come as easily as a pint of ale, and dart in itself could catch a fortune, he gathered. He wasn't angry at the bartender at all: In fact, he had been extremely kind in not reprimanding him for messing up some of his bar. Nodding, he reached out to take the gold that the barkeep had previously given him, but the barkeep slams the counter with surprising force, sweeping the gold into his other hand. Roscar, very much confused, looks at the barkeep, who had a slight grin on his face.

"But you know what? It's about time this thing got to be used for once. By someone who's REALLY searching. Not by some silly rich kid who's bored with his life. You're someone who might honestly need it."

The barkeep rolls up the map, closing it by puncturing one of the ends with the special dart, and places it in Roscar's possession. Roscar, amazed, nods with thanks to the balding bartender, who he first noticed now had some scars of his own on his face. Perhaps he had been an adventurer of his own. Roscar places the map, with dart, right into a slot in his belt, and nods once more to the bartender, who waves his revolver to him in a rather friendly manner, and gestures a goodbye to him before he starts out. Before reaching the door, Roscar turns to Dayas, who seemed somewhat thoughtful over the dropped drink, and grins at him.

"No use crying over spilt ale, eh?"

Patting him on the back, Roscar walks off, firm and determined. Roscar reaches the door before turning around to Dayas once more.

"If our paths met again, you've got an ally right here. I may seem old, but I don't even remember my years. Maybe that's a strength?........oh, and I hope you find your way. I'll be looking for mine. Oh, and try to hold your liquor better."

As the voices of the tavern begin to rise again, they drown out any attempted reply by Dayas, as Roscar meets the warm noon soon with a newfound resolve. He felt younger than he did earlier. Maybe he was. But he didn't let it bother him. Today was the beginning of a near impossible journey of finding his origin, and he was rather happy about it. He unfolded his map, finding his way as the sun lit the parchment and the trees shaded Roscar's face.

Scara Brae, here I come.

((Thread closed. If you guys have any problems with the spoils I gave out to me and Dayas, let me know, I can change them or remove them if necessary.))

[Osato]

Unable to Look Back

Current Mood – Very good / Just woke up :D
Current Music – “Bitemarks and Bloodstains” by Finch


~~Introduction~~ 5
Both of your characters were interesting, though the backstory for them was not clear. Why was Roscar like he was? I don’t have any clue where he came from. However, I do like the depth of character you started with. It made for an enjoyable tinge of curiosity. I would suggest working on your actions and NPC’s. The person that you made could have just as easily been drunk off his ass and decided to swing. Remember the littler details too…

IBB: I don’t know where you came from, what you are, or why you’re in Underwood or the Peaceful Promenade tavern. Remember to add a little detail about yourself, something for the reader to bite down on… something tangible.

~~Setting~~ 4
Basically forgotten. I got that there were trees outside, but the PP is a tavern inside the small logging community of Underwood, at the heart of the island Corone. I didn’t get much of that, outside of a scattered collection of thought from Roscar… though I don’t see half of that in the forum description, or a sticky’ed thread. I’ll fix that.

~~Writing Style~~ 5
When you are writing try and avoid contractions (aren’t, isn’t, you’re, weren’t) and spell out the numbers (three instead of 3). Little things like those make the writing a little better. Also, avoid/watch out for run on sentences, and those that do not make sense. Its difficult to do, and at times the run-on’s are used for writing style / flow purposes, but in general too many of them look bad.

~~Character~~ 5
It was a good show of character from both of you. A little hard to follow, but you remained consistant. I have a habit of looking at the way you portray that character at the beginning and watching for inconsistencies till the end. I do not put faith in the personality section of an approved character, in case the writer does not like it and wants to change it.

~~Dialogue~~ 5
Please, please do not post the person’s previous words in bold after they just spoke them. I don’t read dialogue twice very well; it sits uncomfortably wherever it is that my brain puts it. If you are going to rehash what they said and respond, please just think to yourself IC’ly. Or you can just hear it and respond through your writings.

I suggest looking over some other people’s writings a bit to get the general idea behind what I am suggesting. Otherwise the only other suggest I have is to make your dialogue mean something. Do not say something, or think something just because you think you need to fill space. Dialogue is hard at times, but it is also one of the strongest reflections of character that you can create, besides openly stating how your character acts.

~~Strategy~~ 3
Generally quick, and right to the point. I understand your need to bring in something more, but do not bunny during it. When Roscar had IBB’s collar became grasped by the large man it was bunnying. Avoid doing things to others unless they make a note that it is generally allowed.

~~Rising Action~~ 4
Ok, but nothing interesting in general. I felt it too quick in pace, too sporadic in action, and a little cliché. Try and divert your actions from a path that everyone takes or has taken.

~~Climax~ 2
No. I do not think that any other word could come to mind. I’m one of the biggest anti-firearms advocates on Althanas, so having a revolver is waaayyy out of the question. Having a drag out bar-fight was somewhat… hard to swallow. Why, oh why!, did other patrons of a peaceful little logging town of Underwood feel the intense desire to rise up en masse and have a drag-out old-fashion (for a modern world) bar fight?

~~Conclusion~~ 4
Except for the cliché “don’t cry over spilled ale” it was pretty good. I would have liked to see an actual conclusion from our IBB fellow, but it was ok.

~~Wild Card~~ 6
Because I’m a hard judge, and not a very nice person at times… hopefully you both pulled something from this and can continue on with the rest of Althanas. Welcome and have fun.

~~Outcome~~
As a result of the gun-fire a few of the patrons pissed themselves, though that is far from serious in the light of the situation. The map, truly a piece of crap with a near dull dart are given to Roscar, though they aren’t worth more then a gold crown together.

((The map is supposedly magic only because the patrons of the Promenade (more often drunk than not) wanted to be anywhere but there. Behold the magic of alcohol, not the map…))


Score
45!

Rewards!
Roscar gets the map and dart, though they are not magic. It is more or less an outdated map of Corone, Scara Brae, and lower portion of the mainland. The dark is made of steel with lackluster fins, having long since worn out with the darts use. He also gains 190 exp

IBB gains a handful of gold (15 pieces) and 175 exp.



If either of you have further questions or comments, you can direct them to me via PM or IM at any time. I will respond as soon as possible. Good job and I look forward to seeing both of you in the future. You both have a lot of potential.

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

EXP and GP added!