LCC - R1: Golden Dawn VS Child's Play

[Enigmatic Immortal]

This round begins at 12:00 PM PACIFIC TIME on Friday! Good Luck!!!

[Play Back]

I found myself watching as the ships made it to port. Looking over the water as the various people got off the massive boats struck me with a sense of awe. For somebody who was born of the mostly zombified country of Lavinya, such industrialized machinations were incredible. A bright beam of light shone behind me for a few brief seconds before disappearing into darkness once more. It had been my decision to wait here at the lighthouse for my partner; to wait for the shadow within the light.

Waves crashed against the rocks below, spraying a fine mist that would never make it to my face. The clouds above had started to lower into a fog like state. The night sky had become barely visible, save for the flickers of light the flames behind me temporarily held. I sighed, wondering why I had even bothered with this tournament to begin with. Rumor was that Sei Orlouge and Letho Ravenheart were among the competitors this year. Someone like me just did not comparatively stand up to such hard-hitting heavyweights.

I turned back towards the lighthouse’s epicenter. I closed my eyes each time the light flashed in front of me, weary not to blind myself. The intense heat of the flames ran up my body, warming the chill that the season and mist attempted to instill in me. “I’m a doctor, damnit,” I mumbled to the wind, “Not a fighter.”

“You’re neither, actually,” the child like voice came from seemingly nowhere. I turned frantically, trying to find the source of the words, though realistically I should have known that my partner had arrived. “You don’t have any sort of schooling to be a psychologist, and you sure as shit didn’t prove yourself in the Ixian War.”

I thought for a moment that the voice was in my head, vocalizing so thoroughly that I believed the words were coming from another person. The light passed by once again, and once again I closed my eyes. When I had opened them, my partner was standing before me. His sickly white skin seemed to match the hue of the fog (which had descended upon us at this point). His black hair was messy as if he had just walked out of bed, and his clothes looked like they had not been washed in a few days. He was shorter than me, but the sheer presence that he commanded sent shivers of fear down my spine.

Also, his body resembled that of a small, pubescent boy. The small frame that held the power of a warrior, the power of an Ixian Knight, the power of Talen Shadowalker. I stood up straight, sucking in a hard breath to allow my chest to stick out. “That’s why I agreed to be your partner, Talen. I need to make up for that shoddy performance during the war. Sei had relied on me to distract the enemy and I failed him. I can still remember those elf-looking guys disappearing, the looks of victory in their eyes….”

“Play Back,” Talen said calmly, taking out a small cigarette and placing it in his mouth, “Your hand is trembling.”

I looked downward, to the fists I had made without conscious thought. Apparently I had more pent-up rage about my showing than I had initially thought. I looked to Talen, closing my eyes as the light passed by again. Damn thing probably gave Talen a glorious brightly lit backdrop. I could imagine his dark image in front of the light giving his lithe figure the appearance of a boogeyman.

“Sorry about that. Let’s start heading down and get this over with, shall we?”

[Zook Murnig]

Draw prithvi from the stone, Cohen. Feel its weight suffuse your spine, fill your chakras, and pool in your groin. Ghob's voice rumbled through the magician's mind, infusing him with the barest traces of the energies he had advised.

The Earth King had been giving the magician counsel for months, now. Earth magic, meditative techniques, spiritual cleansings, combat training, and even stabilization of Cohen's other elements were regular parts of his curriculum.

Cohen inhaled deeply, calling out to the tattva of Earth, prithvi. As he filled his lungs, he imagined the stone of the lighthouse tower behind him pouring into him through the vest, the skin, the bone. He breathed earth, and felt its solidity settle in his bowels.

This evening, as he prepared for the Lornius tournament, Ghob's lesson was in overcoming the damaged nerves of the occultist's calf and foot. In Raiaera, Cohen had come upon some measure of misfortune in completing a task for one of Ghob's contemporaries, Nischa, the Queen of Water. In the midst of intense combat with the undead that plagued that land, the bones of his left leg had been badly broken, and healed improperly. That left his entire left leg, from the knee down, completely numb to tactile sensation, and filled it with haunting phantom pains.

Feed the tattva slowly through the leg. As you do, remember the sensations of the grass on your skin and force the pain to take that shape in your mind.



Cohen carried on through the guided meditation, regaining some small measure of proficiency in his leg in the process. That done, he opened his eyes to the night sky over the lights of Lornius, and the ever-moving spotlight of the tower behind him.

Pulling the trouser leg over his numb calf again to protect it from the chill evening air, the magician rose unsteadily from where he sat against the lighthouse, leaning heavily on his staff. As he tugged on the silk of his vest, fingers gliding over his tie as he tightened it, bells tolled over the bay from Lyridia. Cohen paused to listen, counting the chimes, his brow furrowing as the twelfth echoed across the water.

"Ceidon's late," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat with worry.

[Hysteria]

Talen let a smile slip across his thin lips. The youth’s pale blue eyes turned from Play Back out over the barren island housing the mighty lighthouse. Stone, rocks, particularly large pebbles; the outcrop was a veritable zoo of geological no bodies. Vaguely Talen knew that someone might find such a place romantic. The tall light house sending its light deep into the night sky like a ray of hope to ships lost and searching for port. The lone lighthouse keeper trapped with his thoughts and desires away from all he held dear. The poetic nature aside and it was what it was; the place that the youth had been told to fight. It was that reason, and the only reason, that the boy had set foot on the island.

“Come on then.” He said over his shoulder to Play Back.

The cruelly carved rocks casting a daggered edge around the lighthouse rose up a backdrop of crashing waves for the coming battle. Talen moved slowly down the rocky path to the base of the lighthouse. From a distance the thing looked quite small. A trick of the eyes without a comparison object on the horizon, for the building was huge. The youth, bitter slightly at his own emotions was somewhat impressed as he dropped down the final few steps and onto the flat bedrock, no doubt carved during the construction. The hard ground underneath his feet, the cold night air and sullenly dark sky, even the ominous trail of light rotating high above set a scene somewhat worthy for the youth’s battle, and at least according to him, his victory.

The boy’s body language shifted slightly as he looked around. He stood straight and his eyes blazed, he was oddly alert. His hand ran through his hair, undoing what little gravity had down to quell his short wild hair. His head started nodding with the thoughts that had not yet been verbalised.

“I have a good feeling Play Back. I have a very good feeling.”

The youth pushed his tattered cloak off his shoulders and threw it to the side. The removal of the shabby, unkempt rag let the fiery light from above fall across the wide blade strung across Talen’s back. His left arm similarly clad in glistening dark metal starting from his shoulder reaching down ending with clawed fingers. The youth’s other weapons hung at his hips, his two pistols.

[Ceidon]

“Sorry I’m late!” Ceidon Lore exclaimed, climbing over rocks to reach the base of the lighthouse. When he reached his mentor, the adventurer hunched over and put his hands on his knees. Upon seeing Ceidon, Caduceus Grimaldi, the leader of the Order of the Golden Dawn, smiled but said nothing. “Wow, so we're finally here...” Ceidon wheezed. Still breathing heavily, Ceidon stood up and looked out across the bay. Through the fog he could see the lights of Lyridia and knew their destination: the Monolith Forest, was to the southeast. “You know,” Ceidon mumbled. “There must be so many secrets hidden in Lornius. Do you think we'll eventually have to recruit here?” As he questioned Caduceus, Ceidon began to fumble with something in his pocket. That something was a black diamond shard from a sword and it was the reason why they there today.

Ceidon habitually moved his fingers over the flat side of the shard, recalling how it came to be in his possession. Almost two years ago, Ceidon was sent on an Order exhibition to study the mysterious lights that appeared in the ruins of the dwarfish city of Teria in Corone during full moons. While exploring, Ceidon and his partner for the trip, Kyo, discovered a secret elvish temple that was hidden within the dwarvish ruins. There, they discovered the Falchion of Darkness, an ancient black diamond sword that glowed in the moonlight (and incidentally caused the Lights of Teria during the full moon). When Kyo gripped the weapon, an ethereal spirit trapped within the sword possessed her and caused the temple to collapse. In the chaos, Ceidon managed to save his partner and “destroy” the evil sword, but not without suffering some major injuries that sidelined him for the better part of a year. Even though Ceidon reported to everyone, including Caduceus, that the evil sword had been destroyed, the truth was that Ceidon discovered a single piece in the rubble before he fell unconscious, the piece he now carried in his pocket.

Ceidon’s initial research on the shard revealed that the completed weapon was actually a part of a pair. The Falchion of Darkness was crafted first by an evil dark elf mage who wanted to usurp power in ancient Raiaera. In defense of their nation, the Raiaerians crafted the Falchion of Light to balance the absurd power the dark elf’s weapon. When placed together, the magical properties of the two swords would offset. When the evil elf was defeated, the Raiaerians hid the weapons in a temple suspended above the ruins of Teria so they would remain hidden forever. The idea, Ceidon posited, was that no one would think to look for an invisible elfish temple in a dwarven ruin. Explorers would essentially be looking down when they should be looking up. However, someone did find the temple and took the Falchion of Light, which caused the Falchion of Darkness’ power to reveal itself (via the Lights of Teria). After months of additional research, Ceidon determined that the thief was actually Hikari no Ashigaru, the dark elf warrior from Alerar. There were reports that Hikari used a weapon meeting the description of the Falchion of Light in an earlier iteration of the Lornius Corporate Challenge. The weapon was supposedly destroyed by Hikari’s partner, Elrundir Galadhrim, in the Monolith Clearing. However, in the interest of preventing the Falchion of Light being used unchecked on the new world, Ceidon had to know for sure.

Eventually Ceidon healed, but before he could travel to Lornius to search for the sword, Caduceus asked him to enter the Adventurer’s Crown tournament to determine whether the prize for winning, the Destiny’s Book, was actually the Omega Infinitum, a deadly compilation of ancient spells. It wasn’t, but the entire ordeal put the search for the Falchion of Light on hold, until now. After returning from the Adventurer’s Crown, Ceidon asked Caduceus if he could travel to Lornius to search for the sword under the guise of entering the Lornius Corporate Challenge. Caduceus gave his consent and, much to Ceidon’s surprise, offered to join him on the quest. This was a peculiar offer for two reasons. One, Ceidon and Caduceus hadn’t worked together since he first joined the Order. Two, even though Caduceus tried to hide it, Ceidon knew that his mentor had just suffered major trauma to his right leg. Tactically it probably wasn’t the best idea to join a tournament with a gimp, even if they had no intention to actually fight, but Ceidon was too excited about the prospect of working with Caduceus to care. He agreed and the rest was history. The two had made separate travel arrangements to Lornius as to not draw the attention of any enemies of the Order, which explained why Ceidon was running way behind.

“So Caduce…,” Ceidon caught himself, “I mean Cohen.” Caduceus had recently decided to drop his alias and go by his birth name. That was Cohen Ephraim. Ceidon was still trying to get used to the change. “The boat's over here. Are you ready to head out?”

[Play Back]

I listened to Talen’s order to follow, and nodded, pausing for a moment just to get one last look over the fog, to the beautiful sight of the waters darkness. As the minutes passed, so did the temperature drop, and I could feel my body getting cold even though I had bundled up to prevent such things. Back in Lavinya, the fog was a guarantee that the clarity of the following morning would bring with it more bodies than usual. I thought about the people of Lyridia and how an attack by the undead would wipe the poor port palace out in a matter of minutes. Most people just never prepared for doomsday scenarios until they actually happened.

I froze for a moment, a new feeling welling up in me. I could tell that Talen and I were no longer alone. We were joined by one presence, soon joined by another. I could only sense them due to my minor telepathic abilities. Talen, on the other hand, was probably half way down the stairs by now. It would take a while for the warrior to return to me. Regardless, I closed my eyes, concentrating as hard as I could on the only recognizable mental signature. Talen….. by the Thaynes if you can hear this, I need you back. NOW!

I was unsure if my abilities extended to the point of being able to send out messages, but that sliver of hope was better than nothing. I straightened my posture, sneaking around the beam of light constantly circling around, continuing to shut my eyes with the timing of the flames. I slowly but surely got within earshot (or rather, mind-shot) of the two small specks far below at the base of the lighthouse, somehow able to see the faintest of outlines amidst the fog.. I was careful not to show my hand until I had all of the details. I slowly reached down towards one of my kunai as I 'overheard' one of the men talk about recruiting.

“Recruiting for what...” I whispered softly to nobody in particular. My mind had a bad tendency to jump to the worst conclusion when in certain situations. So of course, when I overhear a meeting about recruiting between two people around midnight at an abandoned lighthouse, my thoughts jumped to something sinister being afoot. I took a deep breath and a hard swallow, knowing full well that my sub-par skill set would not be able to handle two people at once. Sure, I could get in a surprise attack, but with Talen already descending downwards, I would have a hard time reuniting with my partner before he met the strangers.

Talen I tried once again to send my message to my partner, my kunai lifted to my chest. I was prepared to strike at any moment. I’m serious. Something is going down, something bad. I think Lornius might be in danger.

Oh, the things one’s mind could conjure up in the middle of the night.

[Hysteria]

A shiver moved its icy hand up Talen’s back and settled on his neck. The youth wriggled his shoulders and squirmed uncomfortably for a second as a few foreign thoughts swam through his mind. He didn’t know why he thought there were people around or why there was a threat approaching. The boy turned his eyes to Play Back for validation, but only darkness lay across the steps. Talen furled his brow in thought amid the shadowy base of the lighthouse. The roar of flames from high above started to make their way around the far side of the light house and soon the area would be bathed in light.

*click* *click*

Talen flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he thought about what to do. He doubted that Play Back had run off, and the foreign thoughts echoed the ability of the Ixian Knight leader Sei. The youth fought a mild internal battle. His mind told him he should hide, find Play Back and plan the next move. Everything else yearned for him to scream loudly and charge into battle with pistols blazing.

The wrinkled brow ease, the familiar smile and eyes sparkling with excitement crept back into his face. The youth pulled his hand from his side into the air, twin trails of darkness lifted from the ground and twisted in front of him. The formless masses swirled and bent, one settling on the form of Play Back and the other Talen as their masquerade. The shadow Talen was a near perfect replica of the original, pale white skin, blackest of black cloths. His eyes though were grey as colour was beyond the scope of the youth’s magic. The shadow Play Back was similarly grayscale, his ninja cloths black, the slit for his eyes in his mask revealing pale skin and grey eyes.

The twin images crouched low and started sneaking around the base of the light house. The hewn rock forming the base of the giant building doubled as a sort of path skirting around the outside, save for the occasional rock that had fallen from the hill side Talen had from descended from. The youth kept his left close to the wall as he moved slowly after his illusions. His right hand slipped his pistol from its holster and he held it ready.

Dammit Play Back, you better come from whatever rock you crawled under if shit gets real. The youth kept his eyes focused forwards as he moved forwards and the light house wall curved away. Talen didn’t know as he moved forwards that he and his illusions approached his hidden rivals, but lady luck blessed the youth’s choice and he moved in the right direction.

[Zook Murnig]

Put at ease by Ceidon's arrival and excitement, Cohen nodded to the man. "Let's go. And, honestly, I shared my name with you," he said, walking around the ancient structure to where his companion had indicated. "That doesn't mean you have to call me that. Call me what you like."

To be honest, most of the Canaanite's friends knew him by his birth name, the name Caduceus Grimaldi being only a pseudonym to avert the dangers of another magician learning his name from his lips. With that, any number of horrible magicks could be leveled upon him, with little to no defenses against it.

Still, the subject hadn't come up with Ceidon until recently, as agents of the Order of the Golden Dawn seldom worked together, and most of their communication had been in coded correspondences. Only just before setting out on this expedition had Ceidon finally met with the Golden Dawn founder again to seek his approval for this mission.

As the pair rounded the tower, its light swept over them, illuminating their rocky surrounds, as well as the small sailboat beached on the shore. Taking advantage of the visibility, the magician swept his gaze about, watching for difficult terrain. In the distance, however, he spotted something else entirely.

People. People coming their way, and trying hard not to be seen. Cohen's eyes narrowed as he peered through the blinding light, and he called on the etheric vision to help him discern exactly who they were.

As the divine light flowed into him, the illusion began to be stripped away, and he saw the wavering shadows flickering along the ground. Not only was someone here, but they had created illusions to mislead them. They're after us, the magician concluded, and maybe even after the Sword of Light.

"Ceidon, we need to move," he whispered, quickening his limping gait, pushing himself with his staff toward the shore. "Quickly."

[Ceidon]

Even though they were now halfway across the bay in route to the Monolith Forest, Ceidon couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Cohen were being followed. At this point, the fog was so dense someone could easily tail their small vessel through the bay without being seen. Even so, every time the distant flame from the lighthouse passed over them, Ceidon would glance behind them to search for pursuers. Each time, he found nothing. While Ceidon navigated the sails, Cohen rested at the bow. The magician seemed relatively relaxed given his earlier alarm and seeing his mentor at ease helped to calm Ceidon’s nerves.

Cohen was an amazing man. Neither truly good nor evil, the magician found a balance that enabled him to make the choices necessary to protect Althanas’ secrets, regardless of their nature. It was an ability that Ceidon struggled with to this day. For example, after losing his sword Errol in the Adventurer’s Crown tournament, Ceidon secretly hoped that he would find the Falchion of Light intact so that he might claim it as his own. Even though Ceidon trusted he wouldn’t abuse the power of the sword, he knew that Cohen would never allow him to keep it. Even if used for good, the unchecked Falchion of Light could provide a windfall against evil that would potentially upset the balance of the world. In his heart, Ceidon knew Cohen was right.

Lost in his thoughts, Ceidon did not notice the waves were getting larger and larger. It was the sound of invisible waves smashing against invisible rocks that finally jolted Ceidon from his day dream. “Oh no!” he cried. Though he couldn’t see the rocks in the fog, Ceidon knew they were fast approaching. “I can’t see anything. I think we’re going to crash!” Ceidon jumped up and grabbed an oar from its place along the side of the deck. He put it over the side of the boat and slammed it down. The bottom of the oar immediately slammed against the bottom of the bay, indicating to Ceidon it was too late to slow the boat down.

“Hold onto something!” He yelled grabbing the mast that held the sail. The next moments were a blur. The boat crashed hard against the rocks on the shore, instantly snapping it in half. Ceidon lost his grip when the mast broke, sending him flying head first on to a flat boulder. His last memory before passing out was feeling a sharp pain in his leg when the shard from the Falchion of Darkness dug deep into his right thigh. “Cohen…” he began. Then everything went dark.

[Play Back]

The two faint specks slowly made their way towards the water, much to my surprise. It was not until I saw the small white puff barely peeking out from above the fog that I realized our enemies had a sailing vessel. I looked around for any signs of Talen, but it looked like he wouldn’t be here in time to stop the strangers. I sighed, closing my eyes and swearing under my breath. Without Talen around, I would have no choice but to use my teleport technique in order to catch up with the two unknown elements.

It’s an odd feeling, teleporting. A lot of people compare it to an out of body experience, but for me, it’s nothing of the sort. It comes as natural as walking; you’re simply at the top of a massive lighthouse one second, and before the next one, you’re at the ground level of said lighthouse. Like I said, as natural as walking. I could feel a throbbing in my chest as I tried to look around, sweat trickling down my face. Using my teleport always took a toll on my body; as if one was accelerating at a high speed only to suddenly stop. While it was true that the body had come to a complete stop, the momentum would want to continue propelling you forward, internal organs and all.

That was the best way to describe my teleporting; going super fast but then being forced to feel your insides slam against your own body when you reached your destination.

I took my mask off just above my mouth so I could allow myself some air. The cool mixture of fog and bay mist did well to cool my heated skin. I looked around, but still saw no sign of Talen. I began to curse once more, afraid that I would have to teleport again, when I heard the crash. I looked out towards the sea, scanning the surroundings each time the flame of the lighthouse passed by. I could easily make out the wreckage of the boat that had just set sail, the wood laying torn across jagged rocks. There was also a body on a flat surface out in the distance. Probably one of the evil would-be Lornius rulers.

I teleported again, this time towards the body of the man. My hand was placed firmly on my kunai, ready to strike if this odd figure decided to try something stupid. My chest throbbed harder now, a sign that I was teleporting too often, too quickly. I was panting heavily at this point, but I was standing (albeit barely). I bent my knees, prepared to serve this evil doer a grand helping of justice. The water that slammed against the rocks splashed on my half-revealed face, but I didn’t care at the moment. I had just saved Lornius, after all.

“Don’t move,” I ordered with my best older person sounding voice imaginable while pulling my mask back down, though it still came off as a kid playing pretend “My partner will be here any minute. Where is your accomplice?” I simultaneously sent out a ‘beacon’ to Talen, hoping the shadow warrior would home in on my signal.

In retrospect, I probably should not have tried to question a man who may or may not have been unconscious.

[Hysteria]

The twin shadowy figures made their around the base of the lighthouse. Each moved as if sneaking, but carefully presented to be seen by anyone watching. Talen followed, each foot fall carefully placed to be as close to silent as he could make it. The youth reached the far side of the mammoth building and there was naught but the roar of the sea to greet him. The youth stopped, confusion spreading across his face at the lack of anything, or anyone. The light high above swung around out into the fog and a tiny white blur caught Talen’s eye. Closer still, a shape was down the rocky incline towards the shore.

That’s where Play Back went.

Talen was about to call out when his partner disappeared. Talen paused, mouth slightly agape as his need for words vanished. The youth swore and looked back out to the stretch of sea. If his partner had gone across the shore he was sure he would need to as well. The boy pushed his pistol back into its holster and with it the two illusions he had conjured disappeared. The youth didn’t have quite the same skill with teleporting than his partner. It took Talen much longer to move great distances. The youth was forced to stand and wait as the second ticked by.

It had been a minute and a feeling gripped Talen, a call of sorts much like the warning before. The youth figured that it was his partner that was emanating the call from across the water. Talen adjusted his planned trajectory as the final few seconds of his preparation ended. The youth simply vanished.

Talen appeared slightly above the water two metres from Play Back. The youth looked slightly surprised as he fell into the churning water with a huge splash. It was cold, a thousand icy needles stretching across Talen’s skin. With a roar of surprise and anger he burst back through the water and looked around wildly. Water streamed down across his face, overpowered slightly by the look of anger.

“Fuck!” Talen pulled himself up onto a rock and shot Play Back a dirty look, “Did Sei ask you to trick me into having a bath..?”

The accusation hung in the air as Talen’s eyes fell upon the unconscious man on the rock.

“Is that one of the men back at the lighthouse?”

Talen could tell that it was from his partner’s demeanour. The nod that came after was superfluous. Talen pulled himself up to his feet lifted his hand towards the prone man. Trails of darkness leapt from Talen’s palm and wound their way around the man. The shadows snapped into physical being and formed black chains wrapped around the man’s legs and chest. Talen’s eyes were cold as they moved down over the man and hovered over the blood oozing from his leg.

“His own sword it looks like.” Talen pointed towards a few traces of blood still on the blade, “Probably won’t die, but might not be much use if he bleeds out and faints.”

The youth lifted his gauntlet and twisted it into a fist. Flames licked over the dark metal, flickering light across the youth’s pale skin. The youth placed his free hand on the man’s leg to brace it. With a slight smile Talen thrust the flaming metal against the man’s wound.

[Zook Murnig]

"Oh no?" repeated the magician, moments before being pitched from his seat in the small vessel. Small blessing it was that, as he sailed over the rocks, tail over teakettle, he splashed down in a small tide pool with no jagged stone protruding through his spine.

No less stunning, however, was the sudden sensation of ice water filling his sinuses. Nor less disquieting was the warmth that flooded from his nose where it struck the base of the pool. As Cohen gasped for air and stumbled to his feet in the shallow water, he overheard shouting from behind him, insistent, though muffled by the heavy mist over the bay.

For the drowned scholar, it was a geological age before his staff was back in hand, and his feet beneath him. Face bloodied, eyes stinging and watering, he stumbled toward the mystery voice, grasping for his wand in the pocket of his trousers. When the flames of the lighthouse once more shone in their direction, he managed to catch in the blinding light, reflected and scattered by the fog, a pair of darkly dressed silhouettes standing over what he could only assume was his unconscious companion. As he limped forward, sloshing through the knee-deep seawater that drained all life from his feet, leaning heavily on the staff for support, he saw one shape kneel over his friend, flickering red and orange light growing over its outstretched arm.

"You'll not have the sword!" he shouted over the waves, shivering in his soaked, clinging clothes as he limped faster over the treacherous footing of the stone reef. He gathered in himself his rage and will as he half-ran, pouring it ounce by ounce into the rod he held trained on the shadowy forms as he grew closer and closer to them. "I'll never allow it! Yahweh Tzabaoth!" He unleashed all that power as he called out, and a torrent of flame washed out from the tip of his wand, burning the mist and pouring out at his friend's assailants.

[Ceidon]

Ceidon awoke to a distant shout. Assuming it was Cohen coming to his assistance, the adventurer groaned and flipped over onto his back. Through blurred eyes, he watched as his mentor approached and stared down at him. “I…I…” Ceidon stammered. “I think we’re here.” However, Cohen did not respond. Instead, he forced Ceidon’s injured leg against the rock and brought his flaming hand to bear. “Wait. What. What are you doing?” Again, Cohen did not respond. Then Ceidon could only watch helplessly as his mentor’s first erupted into a bright flame and came crashing down upon his captured leg.

As agonizing pain tore through his body and his pants caught on fire, Ceidon flailed his body. During the commotion, he instinctively kicked his free foot directly into Cohen’s crotch. As a result, Cohen backed up and Ceidon rolled off the rock into the ocean below. The cool water instantly put out the active flame on his clothing, but stung fiercely as the salt touched his open wounds. “Argh,” he cried, waving his arms desperately in the water. Eventually Ceidon was able to find his footing and stand. All of his weight was noticeably on his left foot.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he called out, staring angrily at Cohen. But, when the adrenaline of being injured finally kicked in, Ceidon realized, much to his dismay, that he was not facing his mentor, but rather some unknown assailant. “Wait, who are you?” Now seeing clearly, his mind instantly went to work. These people must be bandits and like vultures to a carcass they were ready to claim their prize. Cohen had warned him several times about the dangers of Lornius and as his legged throbbed over and over Ceidon was starting to wish that he had listened. Oh God The thought of his mentor set him off. What have they done with Cohen? His question was answered almost immediately when he heard Cohen shout and he was instantly slammed back into the water by the force of a wind spell laced with flames.

No, no, no! Not like this Ceidon silently cried out from under the water. Cohen rarely used his elemental abilities and when he did it meant that he was facing the direst of situations. Ceidon waited for the flames to settle on the face of the water before coming up for air. When he did, he limped to his feet and yelled “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs. “Please don’t hurt us.” He called out, still not knowing the fate of the bandits. “He’s my dad, you see. We came to the forest to hunt for food, but we crashed into the rocks.” The young adventurer, who ordinarily told the truth, was shocked at how easily the lie slipped off his tongue. When no one responded, Ceidon grew more impatient. He reached down into his pocket and pulled the piece of the Falchion of Darkness from his flesh. Due to the addition of salt water, the wound had already begun to scab over and was reopened when he pulled the shard from his pocket.

In agony Ceidon fell to his good knee. “Please,” he pleaded, lifting the shard into the air. Because of Cohen’s fireball there was no fog left to obstruct the moon. The sword piece instantly began to glow. “Please. If you let us go, I’ll give this to you.” He hoped this piece would be worth their lives to the bandit. Even more so; however, he hoped that Cohen wouldn’t kill him for keeping a piece of the Falchion of Darkness.

[Play Back]

I heard the shouts and immediately turned to focus on the source. The man I assumed who had been lost to the sea threw a fireball towards us, shouting something about his words. I couldn’t understand very well, what with the nearby waves crashing against the rock formations around us. Before I had time to think about how a fireball could take away so much fog (the mist should have settled back down once the heat left, after all), I dived at Talen with all of my might.

By this point, Talen had released his target (or he had escaped, either way worked out for me). I grabbed my scarf, throwing it over my face as I tackled my partner to the ground. The cloth did its job; it kept the flames off of us long enough for our flesh not to be seared, but now we were both on the ground, at the mercy of our foes. I looked up from the ground to see the first man, the injured one, showing us some sort of stone. It shone with a dark light before settling back down once more, the fog enveloping it once more rather quickly.

“It’s a trick”, I tried to convey my suspicions onto Talen, hoping the shadow warrior would get my message, “that gem is going to explode, or drain our power. Or I don’t know…something sinister!” I pushed myself off of the ground, looking back behind us towards the magician. I could barely make out his silhouette now, shadowed once more by the mists of the dark ocean. I grabbed my kunai, closing my eyes for just a second before throwing them at the man’s form.

A silhouette was all that I would need.

“Talen. We have the advantage of being able to talk over the waves. Take care of the stone guy. The spell caster is mine.”

[Hysteria]

Everything happened quickly. Talen was above the prone man one second, a shout, a shove and then he was on his back with Play Back next to him. The youth suppressed a feeling of insult as the air was knocked out of his lungs by the larger boy. Flames licked through the misty air above him, but even the chance of a fiery end seemed preferable than the position he found himself in. Talen pushed himself up to his feet and shot Play Back a dirty look. The pair of children were next to each other between the two men. The youth cursed his luck. His cloths were wet, the icy child of the mist filled night settling down upon him like the hand of death. He was not one for regrets, but even he felt the night should have begun with a bed and ended in sunrise.

Orders fluttered through the roaring seas and the youth surrendered to Play Back’s plan, if only because it meant he would be free of another overly friendly hug. The boy finally snapped at Play Back’s comments.

“You don’t fucking say? I am not in the habit of taking candy from strangers either!”

Talen flicked his narrowed eyes at the man. The youth’s anger was not sated by the outburst.

“Man, do I look like I believe your bullshit? And you really think I’m trying to rob you? How many fucking times you been hold up by a kid?” Talen lifted his bare hand up. “Don’t answer.”

The youth punched his palm forwards. Darkness spiralled inwards for the barest fraction of a second before exploding outwards towards the wounded man. The liquid cracked and ignited in mid-air, turning from an oily black slick into a jet of flame.

[Zook Murnig]

Bunnies between members of Golden Dawn are approved.

In the moment of clear moonlight, Cohen caught sight of the obsidian shard in his partner's palm. It matched the descriptions Ceidon had given him of the Sword of Darkness, the very weapon that he had claimed destroyed. And Ceidon had a shard of it. And he lied about it. Anger bubbled to the surface, a fury from deep within, leashed to the magician's will, threatening to break loose in fire and ice and howling wind.

This was not the Ceidon that Cohen knew. The young adventurer would never have clung so to such a dangerous artifact. Even less, would he lie about it. There was something awry here, and the magician had need to know it. But that was for later.

"You're not bandits?" demanded his companion, brandishing the offending relic in indignation. "Why else would you attack an unconscious man, crashed on the rocks?"

Cohen took a deep breath, and felt the sweat rising in his quaking rage, mist melting away from his presence with the flame that guttered and sparked from his rod. "Shut up, Ceidon," he said coldly. "Put that thing away."

In his acrimony, he had neglected their attackers too long. A knife hurtled through the quagmire, striking him in the chest. Sitamayini silk protected his flesh from its bite, but the force of the blow rocked him back a step and honed the edge of his rage. His brow furled as he refocused on his masked aggressor, the heat gathering in him burning in his gaze. "We will speak of your treachery later, Ceidon," he continued, his voice tense as he struggled not to shout. "Take my staff and run. We run short on moonlight this night, and there is work to be done."

He threw the walking stick to the betraying compatriot, gripping the wand ever tighter in his main hand, its blue-hued yew creaking under the pressure. He would not need the staff's support with what he was about to do. His off-hand drew the prevalida blade from his belt, holding it easily and at the ready as he touched the fire burning in his chest, calling out to its master.

Djinn!

Aye, Chayyim. At your call, we are one, came the rumbling, crackling reply.

[Ceidon]

Even Ceidon was shocked by his tone. Was this rage the same as what Kyo felt when she held first the Falchion of Darkness? The young adventurer looked down at his right hand. It was shaking so violently that he was barely able to keep ahold of the shard. When Ceidon looked up again, he was being attacked. However, rather than jumping into the water to avoid the narrow stream of fire, Ceidon merely turned to his side allowing the flame to pass directly in front of his face. Instantly the adventurer’s face began to boil, leaving line of third degree burns from cheek to cheek. Ceidon was lucky he could still see.

His initial inclination was to lash out at his assailant. He was, after all, a child that could easily be eliminated. Ceidon did not get an opportunity to attack. Cohen’s voice boomed over the crashing waves. He was scolding him for keeping the shard. At first, his mentor’s words enraged him, but when he looked down to his hands, he became frightened. This was because a small black ball of mist was gathering around his clenched left fist. Though Ceidon was familiar with magic, never before had he conjured such a mass. “I…” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” His apology snapped him from his stupor. He immediately placed the shard back into his pocket and caught Cohen’s staff.

Taking his mentor’s advice, Ceidon began to run. However, he quickly found that he was full of adrenaline and didn’t need to rely on the staff to move. This was particularly curious given his leg had practically just been soldered shut. When he arrived at the rocks, Ceidon began to climb. At times it was hard to maintain his grip against the wet rocks and the salty mist from the ocean irritated his face, but the young adventurer didn’t stop until he reached the top of a large outcrop. That’s when a bright light erupted from below and the fog—which had just begun to settle from Cohen’s original attack—was blown free once again.

Ceidon turned around. Cohen had just summoned the power of the Djinn. Ceidon was familiar with his mentor’s abilities but had never seen it done. In his right hand, Cohen’s wand erupted into a flaming rapier, constantly changing size and shape as the wind whipped around him. Similarly, the prevalida dagger in his right hand erupted into flames. Ceidon could feel the heat emanating from his mentor from the rock face. The heat had a residual effect on Cohen as well. His pale features became instantly tanned, and sweat covered his body at every pore. Ceidon did not want to see what would happen next.

When he turned back around, Ceidon saw his mahogany bow and his quiver of arrows on a nearby rock face. As he jumped over to grab them, a strange feeling crept into his stomach. Yes, they were running out of moonlight and may not be able to recover the sword before the tournament began, but they had also been attacked by two non-bandit psychopaths. The more Ceidon thought about it, the more he hated the bizarre duo. Is that the shard talking again?, Ceidon wondered. No it couldn’t be. It was nestled safely in his pocket and he wasn’t touching it.

Suddenly determined, Ceidon lifted his weapons and turned back to the fray. Cohen was already on the assault. The adventurer watched with a crooked smile as his mentor dug his rapier into the rocky ocean. The water steamed around the sword, but Ceidon doubted a smoke screen was Cohen’s intention. He was right. After a short moment, Cohen flung crystalized sand from the ocean (glass) towards Ceidon’s original assailant (Talen) before starting a three cross slash assault on the other (Play Back). For good measure, Ceidon began to empty his quiver at the attackers as well. By this point the fog and smoke from Cohen was rising, partially obstructing his view. However, he could still see Cohen’s huge flaming silhouette so he aimed his shots at it, assuming Cohen would stay on the assault. At this point, he was so angry that he didn’t care whether he hit Cohen or not along with them.

[Play Back]

I didn’t have time to register everything that had happened. There was dark lights, fog mysteriously disappearing in the middle of the ocean at night, more fire being conjured, steam, and all in all, a huge cluster fuck of activities going on. My mind could barely keep up with how much conversation and actions were taking place all at once, and my carelessness almost got me killed.

The flaming guy came at me, his blade at the ready. I wanted to yell at this man, telling him how stupid he was for first attempting to fry us with fire (which my team mate also tried on them, but that just made him an idiot as well), and then for coming at me after he had produced a very ill-thought out steam curtain. His sword came towards me and I leaped back, the tip of the blade merely an inch from tearing away at my mask. The second slash came forth and I ducked the horizontal blow, closing my eyes and regretting the decision I had already made by this point. When the third strike came, I was gone, inside the veil of steam that my foe had created.

Of course, I was also now on all fours, hacking and wheezing as sweat covered nearly every inch of my body. It seemed my opponents were not the only ones who used ill thought out stratagems. The exhaustion my body felt from teleporting three times in such quick succession, as well as the added heat from the steam, was all my stomach could take. I made a noise that no man should ever have to make, and I could feel wet, chunky liquid caressing my entire face. I grabbed at my mask, lifting it up enough so that most of the vomit poured out onto the stone floor, slinking away into the water.

Someone must have been looking out for me this night, because as I laid there, my tummy in knots and my features reeking of a curdled and spoiled milk, something whizzed by overhead. I fell to the ground, my arms and legs giving out from under my own weight, and flipped over, watching as another object flew by in the smoky air. Arrows my mind finally wrapped itself around the concept as a third line zipped past. Talen did not use bows, so that could only mean that the projectiles belonged to my foes. The fool will sacrifice his buddy just to make sure he kills us. That settles it; this guy is definitely evil.

I rolled over again, wiping the eye area of my mask to do away with some sweat and steam. I could make out the outlines of both Talen and his armed foe, and I hoped that my own opponent would be starting to focus his attention on my shadow friend as well. “Talen, I’m spent,” I tried to explain, while secretly cursing my own uselessness in battle, “I think my guy is using an all or nothing attack. He did get hit dead on with my kunai. Think you can handle these two buffoons by yourself so I can recover for a few moments? I’ll let you know what their planning from my position, if you can’t figure it out on your own…”

[Hysteria]

Talen didn’t chase his opponent when the man ran. The youth stood still; calm and silent as the events unfolded before him. His eyes were passive. The happy gaze he projected to the world still, filled instead by cold anger. The boy’s pale skin flickered with a red glow from the fire cast off one of his opponents. The boy would have probably felt heat radiating from the same light throwing fire, but only the cold cling of his wet cloths registered.

Steeled blue eyes followed the flick of the burning sword and the throw of glass. Talen normally would have laughed at the poor display. The youth had seen, and painfully felt much worse when it came to glass projectiles. The display barely registered as Talen’s eyes moved back to the darkness his prey had retreated too. Arrow punctuated the darkness, granting a reprieve the seconds before the glass struck.

THERE!

Talen’s body puffed out of existence. It was an instant and the youth was in the air three metres above Ceidon. The darkness the archer had retreated too could no longer hide him, as Talen started to fall through the air towards his target. The youth’s sword was freed from his back and in his hand in an instant, his body twisting in mid-air to bring the large blade in front of him. With his considerable strength he brought the blade down towards his prey’s shoulder and back, his body ready to land behind his target. There was the cold chill of night hanging the air, and now Talen.

There was something pulling at the back of the youth’s mind. It called to him, begged freedom to the world and tugged at Talen’s very essence. What it was, why it nagged at his mind with the subtlest of intentions was unknown, but one thing was sure. It called from the archer’s pocket.

[Zook Murnig]

Cohen's mind was ablaze with Djinn's power, channelled through his frail mortal form and soul. So, too, did every inch of his flesh burn to fuel the fire of the Salamander. The binding was not a permanent solution, nor even likely the best. But this needed to end, with all haste.

The pain, however, was not the only danger of binding the Fire King, and not the greatest, by far. Djinn was a creature of violence, savage warfare, and intimidation, and every moment he thirsted for battle, only sated by bloodshed. And the longer Cohen denied that beast, the greater the blood debt he incurred in his own flesh. The magician was, put simply, burning alive to spare his opponent, drawing short and wide every attack.

Even as he charged against the shrouded child, his every intent was on fear and intimidation, driving the inexperienced warrior from the field. When his opponent disappeared into the steam and fog, his Vision pierced the veil to reveal the teen prone on the rocks, his midnight clad chest rising and falling in exhaustion.

"Shaddai El Chai," he crackled as he paced to the boy, his voice sounding as embers. A steady, gentle breeze wafted over them as he knelt, clearing the heavy air. Fire within him screamed for murder as he held the flaming athame just shy of the child's throat. Just a single slice, and his lifeblood would fountain from him, draining his strength and emptying him, a delicious taste of mortality.

Cohen Ephraim ben Chayyim shuddered at the thought, a mix of pleasure and revulsion. A deep breath calmed him and he regained control. "Boy," he said, carefully holding the flame from his voice. "Look at me, and do not misunderstand. I have no desire to take your life, or that of your friend, and I and mine gain nothing by it." His eyes grew hard, then, as his face grew nearer the boy's. "But make no mistake, I will not allow your interference to continue. The Golden Dawn has business in Lornius, and I will not suffer your distractions from the pursuit of balance.

"Call your hound to heel and leave us in peace, and you may yet live to meet us again. Should you wish to settle this later, seek Caduceus Grimaldi, magician of Hearthwood, the bound of Djinn, servant of Nischa, deliverer of Paralda, and student of Ghob."

[Ceidon]

Just as Ceidon shot his final arrow, his bow was violently pulled down from behind. Unknown to him, the child assailant had just materialized a few feet above and was bearing down on the adventurer with a broad sword. Before the attack hit Ceidon, though, it caught his bow. Unwilling to let go of his own weapon, Ceidon toppled backwards and slammed his back hard against the misty rock. While his fall prevented the adventurer from being cut in two, the assassin’s sword still managed to catch Ceidon on the right side of chest. This left a centimeter deep cut from his shoulder blade down to the middle of his rib cage. Without attention, he would likely bleed to death in minutes.

Ceidon cried out, but it was not from the pain. Immediately after the attack, he watched as tar colored blood began to pour from the new wound. The blood made him nauseous and he vomited all over his own tunic. Like his blood, the bile was mostly black. In that moment Ceidon knew he was done for. Unable to move and consumed by disease, he gritted his teeth and waited for a final blow from the assassin who was now standing over him. However, the blow never came. Instead, the child assailant’s eyes moved to Ceidon’s pocket. Then suddenly everything made sense.

Being constantly berated by different types of pain across his body, Ceidon had forgotten about the wound on his thigh. He knew he was not in complete control of his faculties, but until that moment he was also unsure how the evil sword had suddenly affected him after being dormant for almost two years. When the Falchion of Darkness cut into his leg, it must have infected his blood stream. In hindsight, this was consistent with what happened with Kyo as well. Kyo used her own blood—the blood of a dragon—to free the weapon from its resting place. Then when she handled the sword with her wounded hand, it must have consumed her as well. If this was just a severe infection, Ceidon, a healer of some renown, had an idea about how he could stop this entire mess.

Temporarily free of mind, Ceidon called out to the child: “Please…Please help me. It…it’s in my blood.” He coughed, “I can’t help myself, please. I…I am a member of the Order of the Golden Dawn, sworn to protect the dark secrets of Althanas and I have made a terrible mistake.” He motioned to his pouch. “Inside…are healing stones. Shards of Dreniak. Please use them…” The child did not respond at first and this made Ceidon angry. A child… he eventually thought, his mind wandering once more. How on earth did I lose to a child? He made a fist with his left hand. His body soon began to convulse as he realized how annoying pathetic his situation was. He closed his eyes and when he re-opened them his pupils were black.

“Foolish child,” he said, shaking his head. In one last ditch effort, Ceidon summoned all of his strength and reached up with his right hand. He attempted to grab the much lighter child and tried to throw him over the edge of the rock, which would send him plummeting 30 feet to the rocky shore. “Let’s see you weasel out of this one,” he cried out.

[Play Back]

“Buddy….” I spoke with a panted breath, unsure if the foe could hear me over the sound of the waves, “you just made the biggest mistake of your life….”

Despite how weak I felt, I reached for my mask, ripping it off of my head the rest of the way and looking directly into the eyes of the mage. I am sure I looked disguisting, my face covered in my own vomit, and pale from wearing the mask all the time, but it would be worth it for one use of the Play Back ability. It had been the first time I had used my power in years; it was mostly for espionage and even then, required me at full health mentally and physically to stay conscious through the entire ordeal. You see, my real name is not ‘Play Back’, rather a code name I go by. It was also a description of my ability, which was now in full force through my mind (and hopefully that of my opponent).

And entire lifetime worth of knowledge instantly flooded my head from the moment I looked into Caduceus’ (a name as ridiculous as this man’s ability to recover, apparently) pupils with my own. I could see the monks of the comb Mountains training him in the ways of magic as if I was looking through the mage’s eyes. I felt the pain of leaving his parents, tears welled up in his eyes and a sick feeling within the pit of his stomach. I felt every ounce of pain he had suffered as he fought the demon Qlippoth on the astral plane. Every single moment of Caduceus’ life filled my brain in a matter of seconds, every feelings of joy, sadness, anger, envy, and whatever else shot through my body in an instant.

My body convulsed, thrusting violently into the air, my throat ever closer to the blade held to me with each twitch. Such erratic motions did not normally happen, but I was not using my ability on one person; I was using it on two. Not only did I go through the entire history of Caduceus in an entire sitting, but I was also living the thousands upon thousands of years that the Djinn that Caduceus has summoned experienced. It was too much for a grown man to take, let alone someone as old as me.

“T…a…l…e….n…” I managed to eke out of my head, “S…t..a…n….d… D….o…w….n…”

I had seen, above all else, that I had made a mistake. The two of these men (three, including the demi-god Cad was channeling) where not evil conspirators. They were just somewhat dumb, really clumsy and incredibly boring individuals who collected relics for the act of ‘balance’. The Golden Dawn would not be my enemies, at least for now. My eye lids began to close as I thought about the repercussions of this group. In the name of balance, they would eventually strike out against the Ixian Knights.

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do at this point. My body stopped its twitching, as my head began to feel quite woozy. I raised a shaking finger at Caduceus before I passed out. “This….isn’t over…”

The last thought I had before losing consciousness, and by proxy the match against Caduceus, was the singular hope that the ‘lifetime overload’ of my ‘Play Back’ ability worked both ways, and that the magicians would soon get knocked out my visions of living under constant threat of undead in Lavinya, losing his true love, and the other concoctions of emotions I had experienced my entire life.

Not that it mattered; I was out of this fight.

((Concluding post))

[Zook Murnig]

As the magician fell into those platinum pools, he felt the psychic assault edging into his consciousness. A barrage of images, sounds, smells, thoughts poured through him, burning up in the salamander's flames. Cohen reached for the heat of his binding, drawing it about him to shield himself from the torrent of memory and emotion, but still it broke through in flashes of insight.

A life under siege from the walking dead, never knowing when you would wake among their shuffling numbers. A meeting with the scarlet-haired psychic, Sei Orlouge, his knights doing daily battle in the back-streets of Radasanth. The crushing weight of carriage wheels shattering ribs, squeezing the life from a young girl's lungs even as his heart was rent in two at her loss.

As the wall of fire closed in his mind, shutting out the ongoing storm, Cohen was yet awash in unfamiliar memories, but the tide had been stemmed and he was now able to sort through the unasked answers. The most relevant of these were regarding some new organization: the Ixian Knights. A ragtag band of warriors, led by the silent telepath Sei Orlouge, they fought for the betterment of all the lands of Althanas. Without focus or forethought, however, they seemed too ready to leap into the fray with whatever weapons they could find. Many among their ranks served the avatars of the Thayne, not truly understanding their grim nature.

Not a threat to the Order, Cohen decided, coming back into himself again. But they lack discipline, if they will take up mere children amongst their armies. One day these Knights might look upon the Order of the Golden Dawn and seek the secrets protected by its agents, steal the ancient weapons of darkness and light guarded by its vaults, all in the name of a "better world," no matter the cost.

The magician woke moments later, though it seemed an eternity since he had threatened the boy, Play Back, with fire in his veins and knife in hand. The binding had broken under the force of his unrestrained psychic aggression, and with the elemental fury of Djinn gone, his muscles ached with the strain, and his damaged left leg had fallen again to numb uselessness. His chest hurt where the knife had blunted against his reinforced vest, and he lay there, amongst the cold seawater and shifting sandy gravel, hoarsely groaning his pain.

Closing post.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Golden Dawn vs Childs Play

Plot:
Storytelling 6.5/4.5 – Ceidon and Zook did a much better job of grounding this thread within the context of a larger story, making it more than just a random encounter. In particular, Ceidon really built up the lore around this thread. Play Back, while not as detailed as Ceidon or Zook, also did a good job explaining his character’s motivations and reasoning for joining the LCC.

Setting 5.5/5 – All four participants did a good job of setting out the scene and resolving actions within that scope. I never felt pulled out of the setting, though at times there were opportunities to build upon it which were not pursued. Of the four of you, Ceidon pulled ahead in this category, using the setting to drive events within the thread rather than simply existing within them.

Pacing 4.5/6 – Play Back and Hysteria pulled ahead here, both of their posts working together to create an easily readable flow between the two of them. Zook, you worked well with what was provided but had no defining moments in this area. Ceidon, this was one of your worst areas, and it almost seemed as if you were going to do what you wanted regardless of that the other posters were doing.

Character:

Communication 5/4 – Play Back, you took great liberties with your psychic powers in this thread. I couldn’t find anywhere in your profile where you have the ability to communicate mentally. Otherwise, the communication in this thread did little to really give life to your characters, and only Ceidon’s character really stepped out and off the page.

Action 5/5.5 – Zook and Hysteria did a really good job emoting their respective characters through their actions. I definitely got a better feel for who they were and they drew me in to the flow of the thread. Play Back, while your actions were not terribly engaging, you did nothing to really clash with the other actions going on in the thread. Ceidon, I enjoyed the way that you dictated not only your actions but those of your partner as well, which really make the thread flow smoothly. That being said, your actions often seemed to either ignore the actions of the opposing team or you seemed to be taking more actions than would be allowed for in a realistic time frame.

Persona 5.5/4.5 – Ceidon, the youthful enthusiasm that you portray in your character, along with more than a hint of foolishness, really come through well. This was your strongest category. Zook and Hysteria did well, though nothing really stood out enough to distinguish their character identities. Play Back, your discussion of the tournament and your place in it in your opening post and the world wisdom that you put into your character made your motivation for fighting Zook and Ceidon seem out of place. Knowing that you are in a tournament, it would have seemed more natural to assume that these were your opponents rather than criminals bent on Lornius’ downfall. While a certain amount of naiveté adds to your character,

Prose:
Mechanics 7/5 – Hysteria had multiple spelling and grammar errors throughout the thread. Zook, your writing was extremely well written. Ceidon and Play Back both did a really good job and I found very little errors in their writing and certainly nothing that jumped out at me while I was reading.

Clarity 6/5.5 – I never felt lost while I was reading either Zook or Hysteria’s writing, though Zook’s straightforwardness pushed him further in this area. That being said, there were no real problems in either Ceidon or Play Back’s writing, though there were times when I had to catch myself or reread a sentence to get the gist of what they meant.

Technique 5/5 – Nothing really leapt out in this category from any participant. Having the thread unfinished by all participants was somewhat disappointing.

Wildcard: 4/4 Unfinished thread.

Team Total: 54 / 49

GOLDEN DAWN WINS!

Zook Murnig receives 1500 exp and 65 gp.
Ceidon receives 1500 exp and 55 gp.
Play Back receives 450 exp and 60 gp.
Hysteria receives 450 exp and 50 gp.

[Max Dirks]

EXP and GP added!

Ceidon leveled up!