Need for Steed: Suravani's Oasis

[Breaker]

This thread contains sexual content.


The portal winked out of existence as sand crunched beneath black metal boots. The scent of freshly cut lumber wafting along Concordia's fringe evaporated with the last motes of woodland moisture. Desert sun blasted away everything familiar, leaving only the heat and the glare coming off the dunes.

Joshua "Breaker" Cronen ran a hand through close cropped brown hair and scratched his callused palm across a stubbled chin. Small spiked cacti grew from the granulated sea to his right, and an uncanny rocky outcrop shored up part of the dune to his left. Far ahead the famed Zaileya Mountains reared like a long row of giant fangs. The place looked enough like the picture Jake had used as a reference. The young half elf who provided the portal had insisted; it's a portrait painted from memory by a Coronian spice trader's son... the Fallieni family between the rocks and the bush are on their way to Suravani's Oasis. With no other guide and sweat seeping into the lining of his white denim clothing, Breaker oriented himself with his back to the mountains and strode off energetically.

No wonder the horses here are known as Althanas' strongest... it's as hot as Haide's underbelly.

Between the sun and the sand every bit of him baked, except his fortunate feet. The most mundane of the magicks woven into his patented boots kept them cool as an early spring breeze. The unbridled light seared his skin although he was tanned by Coronian standards, and the brilliance drew dancing spots before his eyes. Sand slipped down the leather interior of his boots as he crested the first dune, already wishing Jake could have come along. With the traveler's talent they'd have skipped from one grit-whipped peak to the next until they reached the oasis. But Jake needed time to marshal his own troops. Breaker had entered the upcoming Gisela Open in Corone, and asked his former student and close friend to command his army's main scouting party. After recovering from the idea of leading a hundred troops, the half elf accepted. Jake would spend the next few weeks teaching a group of elven archers the finer points of traveling by portal, among other useful tricks.

Josh shielded his eyes with a denim clad forearm and pulled his Akashiman jacket up to block the silty wind. Cacti grew more frequently in the shelter of the next dune, and he could see the distinct outlines of several palm fronds against the hazy horizon. The martial artist dropped his arms and spat out sand and cracked his neck. Here's hoping the poor family in Jake's picture didn't perish from thirst. He estimated the distance to the trees and the life-giving water they represented at about a mile, but the sloped dunes and shifting sands would make it feel more like ten. Raising a hand as if holding a glass, he pulled droplets of moisture from the damp sands deep underground and conjured a cup of water made from rapidly melting ice.

The water he sloshed across his eyes and mouth to cleanse some of the grit. The ice he tossed between lips that already cracked beneath the harsh climes. The cool crunch and grind between molars got his mind whirring like one of Phyr Sa'resh's clocks. The wise old dark elf had agreed to command the main forces of Breaker's army, leaving Josh free to work his deadly art in the vanguard. He could think of no better general than Phyr Sa'resh; the old elf had commanded combat across three continents and read more books in more languages than anyone Cronen knew save perhaps the librarian Luned Bleddyn.

Josh stepped forward and ground a heel in soft golden sand. As he navigated the steep incline he pored over the knowledge of Fallien Phyr had shared.

I'm looking for the Deklan or Esseker tribes, he thought as he reviewed the desert dialect he'd learned over the past two weeks, there's no purpose to light cavalry unless it's Fallieni light cavalry; not in the Gisela. Both tribes will kill me if they learn my exit papers are forged, he reminded himself, semi-consciously patting his lightweight jacket. Fortunately he had faith in Sa'resh's document replication skills. Unfortunately, the warnings had not ended there.

Both tribes defend Suravani's Oasis fiercely, Sa'resh had said, doubtless paraphrasing from some dusty old volume, if they feel threatened they may summon mystical guardians to deal with strangers. Phyr had gone on for some time about the variety of mighty beasts the Fallieni worshiped, but finished with a sage assumption. The Deklan tribe is best known for their hordes of giant hounds, while the Essekers are more likely to summon an eagle, or...

Near the bottom of the dune the slope became nearly vertical. As Josh searched for a safe foothold he noticed a shadow growing on the ground around him. His sun-soaked brain relaxed, thankful for the shade.

The griffin's talons struck between his shoulder blades.

[Breaker]

White denim and tanned flesh parted beneath hooked talons. Blood sizzled on sand as Breaker's body yielded against the assault. His feet left the ground and the griffin's swoop pushed him two full paces, to the edge of a bed of cacti flecked with browning flowers. His body bent like a longbow with arms outspread, framed by the crimson-stained wings of his ruined jacket. He reached back and arched further, wanting to cackle beneath the madness of the attack but finding no air in his lungs. Callused hands closed around coarse sinewy raptor legs above the deadly pincers.

Breaker activated one of the more sophisticated enchantments in his black boots and swung the mystical beast like a giant warclub. Every muscle fibre down the front of his core fired in unison, a longbow snapping straight. The magical boots effectively doubled his body weight and Breaker acted as an anchor, swinging his assailant through a wide arc and down amidst the cacti. The boots returned to their normal weight as they thudded on packed sand outside the cactus grove.

The griffin's majesty inspired awe even as it rolled amidst a mess of shattered cacti and stinging needles. Red-gold plumage that melded the colors of sand and sky at sunset covered its torso and forelegs, including the cat-like ears. It had the vicious hooked beak and raptor talons of an eagle and the hind legs and tail of a lion. Its wide golden eyes rolled with rage as it found its feet.

Breaker slammed into the mystical beast without a second thought, bulling it to the ground. Hot sand stung the still-bleeding gash on his back as he found himself overturned by the griffin's massive bulk.

The mystical beast snatched at Cronen with its talons and the lethal beak dipped toward his throat.

Josh rolled away at an angle and kipped to a shoulder stand. His legs snared a massive wing and crossed at the ankles. He torqued his hips and drilled a shallow hole with his shoulders and slewed the griffin forward on its face.

The beast's left hind leg picked up and stomped a lion's clawed paw at the man's face. Its tail lashed displeasure and breath vented from its beak.

Cronen saw the paw coming and rolled forcefully. Lion's claws gouged only sand and the griffin found itself flattened, the pressure on its wing doubled. Josh followed his flow and sat up against screaming abdominals. His long arms stretched and reached around the thick feathery neck. He connected his hands and squeezed.

Pop! The wing dislocated and Josh tumbled away, finding his feet and dusting his forehead before sand could upset his vision.

The fight drained from the griffin like water leaving an unstopped basin. It fell over on its good side, a broken moan emanating from its beak. Its talons and claws spurred the earth listlessly, but the damage to its wing had upset the monster's balance somehow. Even with four legs it failed to stand fully. Its ears and tail drooped as the sounds of pain and defeat dwindled.

"Grant me at least a warrior's death," the griffin said in Tradespeak, the language of Corone. Its words grated like rocks in a tumbler, flecked with ancient accents and agony.

[Breaker]

Crimson-stained sleeves tore as Josh pulled the jacket off. White fabric fluttered to the sand and blood trickled down his back but he paid no mind. Had the legendary creature just spoken?

"What did you say?" Josh gasped, stepping into the uprooted cactus patch. He plucked a long red-gold feather from the sand where it had fallen during the struggle. It warmed to his touch as he poured a measure of his might into it. The bristles still fluttered at the slightest movement, but they'd become sharper and harder than dwarf-forged mythril. Breaker spun the feather beneath the griffin's neck and forced it to rise painfully to plumed knees.

"A warrior's death, young deity." The griffin croaked, beak chopping the words harshly. "Do not go spilling this protector's blood with his own captured pinion. 'Twould send my humiliated soul to the furthest reaches of Haide." The beast arched its back, tightening its throat. "A single blow from that fabled fist should finish this servant of Suravani."

Josh pressed the hardened feather against the griffin's neck. He felt awed to be conversing with a such a mythical creature, but years of experience treating enemies as resources spurred a line of inquiry.

"What do you protect for Suravani?" He demanded, the bladed feather quivering in threat.

"The lands of the Esseker tribes, guardians of the greatest steeds Althanas will ever see." Pride blazed in those great golden orbs.

"What makes the steeds of Suravani so different?" Josh mused calmly, as if back in Underwood discussing tactics with Phyr and Jake. The griffin bristled and drew a fraction of an inch away from the strengthened feather.

"The ground shakes when Suravani's steeds ride forth," it spoke as if quoting scripture, "oasis warriors draw strength from the very backs of the Mistress of the Moon's cavalry. There is no sturdier mount for thrusting spear or drawing bow. A horse from Suravani's Oasis will guard a fallen rider with its life."

A light breeze trifled and a few grains of sand tumbled down the dunes. Breaker released the Oasis Guardian and the great beast slumped flat on its belly, beak nearly gouging the dirt.

"There must be more than one of you," Josh reasoned, speaking as if to an old friend. He circled before the fallen griffin, dragging a boot to clear the ruined cacti. He sat facing the haggard beast and pulled water from beneath the sand once more. This time it rose up infused with muddy grit, and formed into a camouflaged shield that offered them both a moment's shade. The griffin looked up, stunned. Even defeated and demoralized it radiated power - its sheer girth made each motion audible. As the fiery feathers shifted Breaker noticed arcane patterns woven deep into the guardian's pelt. He could interpret little from the unfamiliar design, but they radiated a brilliance brought only by fresh enchantments.

"I am the lion of the skies," the griffin muttered into the dirt, barely understandable with its thick accent, "the Guradian of Suravan-"

"You're a mass of muscle and blood." Josh said simply, "you can't patrol miles of desert day and night." He crafted himself an icy vessel full of water and a matching bowl to wet the griffin's beak. The thing coughed harshly at its first taste, having never supped something so cold. Cronen had to chuckle. The people of the oasis would feel a similar shock. "Where do you roost?" He asked levelly as the guardian drank deeply, "and who weaves the spells that make you silent in flight?"

It was a guess - he couldn't truly decipher the arcane handiwork - but it made sense. Even in a dive he should have heard the griffin coming a league away.

The beast turned its massive head away in a final show of defiance and then slumped, muscles relaxing audibly beneath fluttering feathers. Hot breath vented from the top of its beak like thermals off the dunes.

"There is a place like that you describe," it said, each word a wary tread over quicksand. "An island where the greatest shamans from all the tribes of Fallien gather to raise my ilk." The griffin found some posture again and its voice gained power as pride swelled its chest despite the injured wing. "Any man who can survive the flight over raging seas, through vicious astral winds, and under the illusions that guard Hybrid Isle has the right to learn Lady Suravani's most precious secrets."

"How does one find a griffin for that first flight?" Josh asked, hazel eyes wide as a youngster's at storytime.

"There is a ritual of oils and herbs blended and burned just so." The griffin said, and its vicious golden eyes almost smiled. "We are trained to detect its signature scent at great distances from birth. But once a man climbs between a griffin's wings," golden eyes met hazel, sharp as talons once more, "he must survive the flight or perish at sea. I would offer you this honorable opportunity, great warrior... if you could but repair my wing." It shook the dangling appendage painfully.

Josh allowed the sun to melt their canopy away and paced through the scorching rays to where his ruined jacket lay. He found the folded sheaf of parchment - his exit papers - and tucked them behind his belt alongside the griffin feather.

"My thanks for the tale," he said as he returned and knelt at the guardian's side, "but I've business at the oasis and I'll settle for a ride there. Unless..." he added as the curved beak opened to protest, "you'd rather perish this night alone in the desert. I hear the harpies can be especially ravenous after sundown..."

"Kreeeeack!" The griffin shrieked like a hawk, a deeper and throatier sound of rage and humiliation. "It is the harpies that fill our bellies, not the other way around. Give me my flight and I will help you on your journey, young deity."

Josh dug his thumbs into the stressed muscles at the wing joint, producing another scream from the beast. As the tortured tissue softened against his pressure he rotated the wing up and back and then dug his boots into the sand and slammed bodily against the griffin. They tumbled in the dirt together as before, but this time the griffin found its feet swiftly. Breaker perched between its wings, one hand wrapped around the cleft bone above its chest. Motes of dust scurried into whirlwinds as massive wings unfolded and the griffin began its run.

[Breaker]

The lolloping gait of talons and paws smoothed out as the griffin tore up the side of a dune. Josh felt a stirring of the sand magic native to Fallien and squinted against the grit as a sudden duststorm rose to mask their takeoff. The massive wings unfolded and filled like canvas sails. They caught a hot thermal rising off the steep terrain and rocketed skyward.

Breaker lost himself in the whizzing of air and the sparkle of magic. The same trick of wind that allowed the griffin to dive in silence covered their ascent, but at altitude the magicks shifted again. Folded light flickered all around them, masking the mystical creature's flight. It soared effortlessly beneath Breaker's weight, broad back clenched comfortably between his knees.

Suddenly Cronen's heart leaped up his throat, and he realized the griffin had entered a dive. Josh resisted the urge to clutch at the lush plumage and laid flat on the beast's back, letting the slipstream and his muscular legs lock him in place. Wind howled in his ears as he realized he was at the griffin's mercy - he could kill the beast and be no more likely to survive the fall.

Either this griffin is a warrior true to its word, Breaker thought, or my journey ends today. He could think of no better way to die.

The enchantments woven into that sunset plumage shifted in reverse order. The whirl of colors. The vacuum of sound. The cloaking sandstorm. When he unscrewed his eyes Josh saw they had landed at the foot of a massive dune, perhaps twice the height of those he'd crested earlier. Its near side rose almost vertically, composed of sandstone as much as anything else. As the dune naturally curved it met another with a similar rigid border, and between the two a narrow path led into darkness.

Almost cavernous, but not quite - the bottom of a sandy crevasse. Breaker slid off his mount's back and stepped to the opening. The lethal beak and golden eyes caught the sunlight like a polished statue. Barely a feather seemed out of place. Could this be the same beast that rolled at his knees minutes earlier?

"These paths between high dunes occur naturally over time every few thousand leagues." The griffin said, somehow regal through the crackling voice. "This path leads to the largest oasis camp of the Deklan Tribe." The griffin bowed its head and spread its wings. "I am bound by oath never to assist an outlander in finding the Esseker camp. But the steeds of the Deklans are equal in glory." It perked up again, ruffling its feathers and turning about, gauging the breeze. "For my life I am forever in your debt, Joshua Cronen, but I must fly now to my duties. If ever you have need, burn the ancient herbs and oils. Farewell."

The griffin broke into its shuffling run and then regained some majesty as it launched from the top of a dune. Josh blinked during the dust storm and then lost its outline against the clear blue sky. Only then did he realize he had never told the griffin his name.

Impressive magic, Breaker thought as he stepped into the crevasse's blissful shade. He had to turn his broad shoulders sideways to fit between the sandstone dunes, and still they scraped at his chest and wounded shoulders, but he pressed onward. Soon a hint of fresh life filled the crevasse – the scent of Suravani's Oasis.

[Breaker]

Breaker paused on the brink of the sandstone crevasse, savoring the shade and taking the chance to scan Suravani's Oasis. Scores of tall leaning palm trees stretched out in a lazy circle around a long pond shaped like a figure of eight. A spring must have supplied the water from below, for it was the only natural source for miles in any direction. Far across the oasis pool he could see the shapes of leather tents between palm trunks, presumably the home of the Essekers. The Deklan tribe dominated the near shore.

Their tents stood in haphazard array, lined close to the sandstone cliff for shade where space permitted and clustered in odd bunches around the largest trees. Ash pits and water troughs dotted the camp like pockmarks on a peasant's face, but no fires blazed while the sun stood in the sky. Men and women lounged beneath the palms or performed chores at a lackadaisical pace, keeping their heart rates low during the hottest part of the day. Children on the other hand raced about as if unaffected by the sun; they splashed and played in the pool's shallows and teased the tails of horses hobbled beneath high canopies.

Josh stepped out of the crevasse, only then realizing how well camouflaged the opening was. He could scarcely find it against the shimmering grains of the sandstone walls. Fixing the location in his mind in case he needed it later, he turned and strode confidently through the Deklan camp toward the oasis pool.

The Fallieni took little notice of the intruder; they went about their work and stayed seated in the shade, but each pair of dark eyes stole scornful looks at the outlander. Whispered words passed between adults, and children shied away form the man in black boots. He arrived at the water's edge unchallenged.

Breaker kicked off his boots on the shoreline and waded out 'till water encircled his waist. He knelt down, letting the wetness cover him to the shoulders to feel the true nature of Suravani's blessing. The pool drew fatigue and heat from his body despite feeling as warm as the air. Breaker exhaled powerfully, stirring tiny vortexes in the pool's surface. He thought about Phyr Sa'resh, the old Alerian who'd insisted they needed cavalry from the oasis, and instructed him in Fallieni language and custom. He thought of young Jake Narmolanya, the demon hunting half elf who would head up Breaker's scouting party in the Gisela. He inhaled and thought of what had truly motivated him to enter the tournament. Something that ran deeper than representing the Ixian Knights in battle and proving his worth to the world. The feeling of water surrounding his skin reminded him.

Josh stood suddenly and whirled in a spray of droplets.

A half dozen warriors were approaching the water's edge on light feet. Some wore knuckledusters or bore short staves, but none of the lethal spears and swords they carried into combat.

So. The locals had decided to beat him to death.

[Breaker]

The men brandished their blunt weapons and closed in on Cronen without conversation. They were all short and sinewy, fighters born and bred.

Shorter elves always made the best dragoons, Phyr had reminisced over a glass of good Alerian scotch, and the same holds true with Fallieni cavalry.

A livelihood of scarity and combat had compressed the warriors into lean muscle and gristle. The weapons they bore extended like living parts of their arms. They seemed bored by the task of aprehending a crazy outlander caught bathing in the oasis.

Breaker smiled and spread his arms as if welcoming old friends.

"Take me to your leader," he said in Fallieni, one of the few phrases he had truly mastered. The words impacted the men as much as waves on a cliff.

They wore hardened horseleather codpieces and little else more than loinclothes, save an odd assortment of jewlery, scars, and tattoos. The leader emerged as they approached the waterline, invading the oasis up to his ankles before the rest had wet a toe. Studded knuckledusters bulged around both his fists, and a series of three black rings and matching inked sunspots seemed to denote a rank.

"I guess I can find her myself," Josh muttered, and closed his eyes for a moment. He inhaled and bent his knees, toes digging into wet sand. He heard ten sun-darkened feet splash into the pool's shallows.

Breaker exploded upward in a shower of droplets that turned to flecks of ice. He somersaulted over the men and landed near his boots. Winter visited the oasis in his wake.

The water around the sun-spotted leader's ankles froze first, and the surface between him and the bank swiftly followed suit. The warriors cried out in shock and bewilderment. Some cursed at Cronen whilst others set straight to hacking at the ice, working at freeing themselves. The leader barked orders in a harsh foreign tongue. The ice pellets that had hovered aloft fell on him in a strangely targeted hail.

Josh slipped into his boots and walked bare chested and dripping toward the largest tent he could see with a genuine smile on his face. All of the Fallieni had vanished into their tents leaving a ghostly atmosphere in the desert town. Josh had to thread his way through a haphazard maze of tents and equestrian equipment in order to reach the tall dwelling with a horse emblazoned across its side. He stepped around front and nearly ran into two guards standing immobile outside the sealed flap.

They attacked with their hands rather than reach for weapons, which was smart because it meant they got to live. Breaker slipped left and lunged right and as he moved his elbows crashed into the tanned men's heads. They fell in a heap atop one another.

Josh rolled them almost affectionately on their sides. They'd been quick, and well trained. Perhaps Phyr was right about all this. Breaker stretched up and arched and savored the sun that had scorched him so recently, and then bent forward and ran his fingers through the sand. Suravani go with me.

He undid the knot on the heavy canvas flap and slipped inside the tribe leader's tent.

[Breaker]

The air hung heavy with humidity inside the Deklan chieftain's tent. Moisture beaded on the canvas walls and escaped through vents slit in the ceiling. Two coal-filled braziers burned beneath clay pots containing water dotted with essential oils, filling the air with motes of lavender and lemongrass. The chieftain sat on a throne carved from a single piece of glass, a resource the Fallieni had in greater abundance than wood. The young woman's skin was darker even than most Fallieni, and she had three piercings in the right side of her nose, gold loops that supported an equally precious chain connecting to three matching hoops in her right ear. Her hair was clipped short and aside from the jewelry she wore nothing.

"Who dares enter the tent of Chieftain Sulatam unannounced?" Demanded the chieftain's shaman in Fallieni. The man standing at her right hand wore a long silken sand-toned cloak with strange runes emblazoned down its length in grey and silver. He wore a full-face mask shaped to look like the head of a great hound, which from the thundering nature of his voice must have contained a cone in the mouthpiece, amplifying every word he spoke. The Shaman raised a long, gnarled wooden staff and stabbed the dark sand beneath his feet forcefully. "I said, who dares-"

"Clearly this is Joshua Cronen, the Breaker of Corone," the chieftain said in a voice smoother than her shaman's silk robe, "did your vision not foretell of his coming to the lands of the Deklan clan, and of how he will help us gain control of Suravani's Oasis?"

The cloth mask shifted as the shaman scowled.

"I did foresee this man's arrival at the oasis," he acknowledged grudgingly, "but your interpretation of the vision falls far from my own, great chieftain. I had hoped our warriors would end his Coronian life before he reached this tent." From the sound of his voice, the shaman wanted badly to remove his mask and spit.

As if cued by the remark, a clamor arose outside. Feet beat the harsh sandy ground and voices hailed the chieftain through the tent walls, requesting permission to enter in Fallieni too swift for Josh to catch every word.

"So, you sent warriors to test our savior? Very wise, first of my shamans." The chieftain displayed surprisingly clean white teeth in a crocodile smile. Rather than berate her underling for going against her wishes she allowed him the opportunity to wonder if she'd even noticed, while reminding him he was inherently replaceable. "Leave me with the Breaker now, and assuage the concerns of our warriors."

"As you say, great chieftain. But I think you know our people will see my side of this. We are not fond of outlanders here." The shaman bowed and exited the tent as stiffly as a statue. Breaker could all but hear the anger smoldering beneath the mask; it seemed hotter than the coals in the braziers that gave the tent its red-hued glow.

Breaker sank to one knee and bowed his head, showing open deference to the chieftain.

"Great leader," he said in his best Fallieni, "I have come here-"

"In hopes of recruiting cavalry from Suravani's Oasis?" The chieftain interrupted in flawless Tradespeak.

[Breaker]

Josh kept his jaw from dropping by fixing his patented cocky grin in place. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth combined with the Y-shaped scars on his cheeks gave a wizened look to his face.

"Just how much did your shaman foresee?" He asked indifferently, "if you know what I'm about to do, you may as well tell me. Saves me the time I'd spend thinking about it."

The chieftain laughed like sand sliding down a dune, dry and coarse but somehow musical. She stepped up onto her throne, highlighting her nakedness, and raised her hands as if watching the vision unfold between them.

"He did foresee the arrival of a great warrior clad in white, called the Breaker." She paused for a moment to enjoy looking at Josh's bare chest, "and I see he was at least half right in all these things. He predicted that you would come seeking our cavalry, and that you would have what you sought, one way or another. If the images can be interpreted correctly," she clutched her hands between full breasts and swayed violently, nearly pitching off the throne, "then what we ask in return for our warriors will cast us higher or lower than ever before in Suravani's gaze."

"Surely Suravani would reward an act of charity," Josh pointed out, "why not let me pay for the soldiers in gold and silver, as I would anywhere else on Althanas?"

"Fallien is not elsewhere on Althanas," the chieftain hissed as she stepped down to the sandy floor, "and the oasis is not elsewhere in Fallien. If you cannot win the affection of my people, you will not have what you seek."

Breaker frowned and rubbed the day-old stubble on his chin. He kicked some sand off of one of his boots and turned away from the naked woman, examining the dancing steam above one of the braziers.

"So what would you have of me?" He asked, "If you know my name, you must know of my feats. I could be instrumental in the Deklan tribe's rise to supremacy at the oasis."

"I don't doubt you could," the chieftain hummed around a sly smile, stepping quickly to stay in front of Josh. She knew that as long as she presented her naked body he would have difficulty thinking straight. She had never met a man - or woman - who could say otherwise. "Alas, it is not a matter of a fair trade. If I am to detail my troops to leave the oasis and fight under your banner, I must know beyond any doubt that Suravani approves."

"And how can you determine that?" Josh asked, giving up on looking away. He stared straight at the chieftain and enjoyed the youthful curves and contours of her sweat-slicked body. "Is there a ritual you must perform to seek Suravani's blessing?"

"A ritual? Of a sort..." Seeing that her body had done its work, the chieftain retreated behind her throne long enough to don a fine knee-length wool shawl. The loose needlework left all but her most tempting parts bare. "There is a test," the chieftain said, "Suravani's Trial. Ordinarily it is only used when a warrior sentenced to death contests his charges."

"I am eager to learn of this trial," Breaker said. He strode past the tantalizing chieftain and sat in her throne, finding it surprisingly difficult to stay seated on the glass surface. Being naked and covered in sweat would help, but he had no intention of removing his pants.

"When a condemned warrior enacts their right to Suravani's Trial, the fittest of their comrades is chosen as an opponent." The young chieftain explained. She sloughed both hands up her bare front, gathering sweat, and rubbed the liquid through her stubbly scalp with a sigh. "There is a marked course through the dunes - a three day journey on horseback. Each competitor is given a single waterskin to complete the course."

Josh raised his eyebrows and sat up straight. The challenge would be difficult, if not impossible... for him. Imagining an ordinary man making it through three days of exposure, even the hardy folk native to Fallien, amazed him.

"The condemned must not only complete the course, but do so before their opponent," The chieftain finished, "only then will Suravani have shown her sheltering hand, and the death sentence is lifted."

Breaker whistled long and low, like a tea kettle just beginning to boil.

"May I assume that my opponent will be your fastest rider?" He asked.

"If I may take that as your acquiescence to the test... then yes." The chieftain smiled and nodded thrice, as if completing a ritual. "You will be provided with a tent for the night," she told her guest, motioning for him to vacate the throne, "your trial shall begin on the morrow."

Josh rose and watched the whip of a woman take her rightful place. She looked as natural as a coiled cobra seated on that glass throne. Her terms seemed reasonable and left Breaker feeling confident... somehow, the whole process seemed too easy.

[Breaker]

Two of the chieftain's guards whisked Breaker away to a tent prepared by her servants, wisely without attempting to apply force. The codpiece-clad men yammered back and forth in a different dialect of Fallieni than Breaker knew, but he managed to gather that they were marveling at the paleness of his skin. On Corone Josh made a habit of training shirtless in the sun, and his torso was tanned by Coronian standards. And yet it seemed the guards had never seen such a white body. They delivered him to the tent and then disappeared, still discussing the visitor's pallor.

Breaker decided to enjoy the shade awhile, especially considering his run-ins with the oasis folk had led to combat two out of three times. He lit the brazier provided and sat down on a sea of cushions as steam filled the tent. Heat pulled sweat from his skin until his torso carried a heavy sheen and his trousers lay sodden. Josh removed the ruined exit papers from his waistband along with the grand griffin feather. Good thing the people of the oasis don't seem to care about the papers, he thought as he fanned himself with the feather, leastways, they don't care about mine.

Minutes stretched into hours as Breaker breathed hot, humid air in a deep, relaxed rhythm. The sun set, leaving his tent in darkness save for the glowing embers of the brazier. Breaker rose on occasion to add coal to the fire from a wicker basket but otherwise remained unmoving on the cushions. He conjured and drank icy cups of water when he thirsted and savored the stillness and moisture. He would be spending the better part of two days racing along sunblasted dunes, from the sounds of Suravani's Trial. If it takes a Fallieni man three days... he reasoned, shouldn't take me more than two...

Whether he slept or not he could not say, but the sound of the rough canvas tent flap grating against the wall brought him fully alert. Darkness still pressed in, and the brazier had all but burned out. The heavy cloud of mist in the air swirled as whoever had entered the tent swiftly exited.

Breaker bounded after the invader, black boots crunching the sand, bare torso bladed to avoid an attack, hands up and ready. He caught up with the culprit - a slender young woman wrapped head to toe in linen clothing - and scooped her up like a parent pulling a child from harms way. With one muscular arm pinning her torso and arms to his chest and the other hand covering her mouth, he shuffled sideways back into his tent, barely avoiding her flailing heels.

Josh slammed the woman into the sand just hard enough to stun her, and then straddled her hips while he searched her robe and veiled hood for weapons. He found a bronze push knife strapped to her left thigh and held it up so it glinted in the dying amber light.

"If you scream," he said, being careful not to cover the girl's nose as well as her mouth. Her face was smaller than his palm. "If you scream I'll have to kill you, and the guards will believe it was in self defense. They searched me before they left me here," he lied, "and they know I don't have a weapon. Besides... I am already scheduled to start Suravani's Trial on the morrow. So do not scream. I've little to lose." He took his hand away from her lips.

The young woman's nostrils stopped flaring and she gulped air through her mouth twice, but then regained her composure quickly. She had a pattern of sharp triangular tattoos emanating from the outer corners of her eyes, and they slanted when she looked at him.

Breaker felt as though she was looking down at him, even though he sat on top of her with both wrists pinned above her head in one callused palm.

"I am simply a member of the Deklan tribe." She said in Tradespeak, and only then did Breaker realize he had lapsed into his native tongue. The Fallieni woman spoke the Coronian language well, and she sounded bored. "I heard the great Breaker was amongst us, and I had to glimpse you at rest to satisfy my own curiosity. That is all," she lied.

"I don't believe you," Breaker chuckled. He stuck the push dagger in the sand above her head. She didn't even flinch. He used his free hand to tut the air in front of her face. "First of all, members of the Deklan clan would not call themselves 'simple'. Secondly, no one else here has garb nor tattoos to match yours. And finally... I've had women slip in on me just to glimpse the Breaker before. You aren't one of them. So who are you?" He demanded, and then stood up and strode back to his cushions so suddenly the girl gasped.

"I am Sall'Ema, of the Esseker tribe," she said as she sat up slowly, rearranging her robe. This time there was a tinge of pride in her voice. "I am here evaluating the weaknesses of the Deklans. The rest I said is true. When I heard they had you, I had to confirm it. But if you are to embark on.. on Suravani's Trial..."

"Then I'm not exactly fighting for them, am I?" Breaker pointed out. He smiled.

The girl smiled as well as she retrieved her push dagger and sheathed it out of sight. Her black tattoos made the sun darkened crinkles at the corners of her eyes particularly beautiful. She was particularly beautiful, now that he looked at her... she had a smooth slender stomach and limbs, black hair as fine as sifan, and a full mouth with wide charcoal eyes to match.

"You will not warn the guards of my escape then," she giggled, and dashed out of the tent much faster than before.

Breaker re-lit the brazier and added coal and water and then returned to the pile of cushions that made up his bed. He saw the ruins of his exit papers and...

The griffin feather had vanished, and the girl would already have fled the settlement.

What could she want with that?

[Breaker]

The day of Suravani's Trial dawned as dry and hot as the day before. Breaker rose early and went through a series of long, deep stretches, preparing his body for the next two days. He figured if he rode half the time and spent the other half walking and running beside his horse, he would be able to finish well shy of the expected three days.

Cronen's white denim pants and red cloth belt caught the light as he ducked out of his tent and made his way to what amounted to a starting line.

Most of the village had turned out to witness the foolish outlander attempt to compete at their native sport against one of the tribe's finest riders. They stood in two small clusters either side of a long line in the sand. A young male Fallieni waited next to his horse, and nearby stood the tribe's chieftain Sulatam, accompanied by her shaman. Despite the heat the medicine man still wore his long robe and mask. The chieftain had donned a leather skirt and corset for the occasion.

Sand crunched beneath Breaker's black boots as he paced up to the line.

"Where's my horse?" He asked, looking around as if bewildered, "it's been awhile since I've ridden, but I'm sure I'll manage." Josh was getting used to the harsh consonants of the Fallieni tongue.

The shaman stepped forward, almost certainly grinning wickedly behind his hound mask.

"Surely the great Breaker can run faster than a horse!" He crowed, and the mouthpiece of his mask magnified his voice so that most of the rowdy crowd could hear. "Here is your waterskin," he shouted, producing the item and holding it out, "be glad we give you this!"

Josh sighed and scratched his tanned bare chest. He'd been aware this might happen. I'm not much of a rider, anyway.

"Keep it," he said, waving the waterskin away, "you look thirsty!"

That drew a laugh from the crowd, and Josh grinned. Phyr had told him how the Fallieni considered thirst a weakness, and the ability to go without water a great strength. Hopefully I've just earned myself a few admirers amongst the warriors here.

The shaman stamped the ground and held both hands aloft.

"Silence!" He cried. The chatter and laughter from the crowd quieted. "Good people," the shaman said, "today two souls are set to embark upon Suravani's Trial, not to the determine the guilt of one, but to decide the path our people will take in the future! Watch now as they depart, and three days hence our goddess will give us her decision by the grace of the victor!"

The Deklans cheered and whistled and stamped the ground as their tribesman mounted his steed and lined up next to Breaker. The horse smelled of sweat and manure.

The shaman waved both arms and leaped into the air.

"Begin!"

The horse and rider cantered away in a spray of sand, heading toward a leather standard set atop the nearest dune. The entire course would be marked in similar fashion, stretching out into the vastness of the desert and looping back to the oasis camp.

Josh bowed first to one clump of the crowd and then the other, and finally to the chieftain.

"Send out word to your strongest companies of cavalry," he told the young woman, "I'll want them waiting here upon my victory." He waved to the crowd and set off at a brisk trot, following the hoofprints ahead. I'll let them cut the trail awhile. He put his head down and embraced the grind of running on sand, one backward sliding step at a time.

[Breaker]

The sun meandered over sandy ground until the shadows of the dunes stretched tiredly. Long-winged vultures circled hopefully as the lone rider stopped his horse and made camp, drinking sparingly from his waterskin. The young Fallieni man unpacked his saddlebags and put flint to steel despite the heat, coaxing a few sparks onto a meager bit of tinder he had brought along. He wanted a fire before darkness fell, when the harpies would come out of hiding and the heat of day would disappear with the light. Soon he had a small flame dancing like a Glasswalker moving through the Blight, and he turned to the task of brushing down his horse. They had done well this first day of Suravani's Trial, traveling past the first ten of thirty markers which made up the course.

Breaker crested a dune and, at long last, laid eyes on his opponent. The young Fallieni's fire made him easy to spot in the waning crimson light of the long hot day. Sweat beaded on Breaker's brow and sluiced down his face, but evaporated before it could drip from his chin, so dry was the desert clime. His bare chest shone in the last red embers of sunlight, patterns of scars seeming to shimmer like a mirage. His lightweight white pants and red cloth belt were damp from perspiration. Even so his boots kept his feet blessedly cool, and he marched onward with unwavering resilience.

I must pass him before I rest, Josh told himself, I must, I must, I will...

If not for his ability to summon water from the very air, Breaker would surely have perished from thirst some hours earlier. His skin was seared a dark shade of golden brown from constant exposure to the sun, and only his innate healing ability kept him from truly burning. His close cropped hair felt thick with salt left over by evaporated sweat. As he descended the dune opposite the Fallieni racer's fire he raked callused fingers through his brown hair and licked his palm, a little-known traveler's trick to keep his body from running out of salt. A small breeze teased his tired form as he climbed the next dune toward where his competitor brushed his horse.

The young Fallieni man tried not to show his bewilderment; he'd been certain that Breaker would not be able to catch him. Indeed, he'd placed several side-wagers with friends before leaving, betting that the Coronian would not be able to finish the race. Keeping his eyes down, the racer busied himself with his brushwork as the Breaker gained an even footing with him.

"I hear harpies love horsemeat," Josh said in Fallieni as he trudged by, and imagined that the darkly tanned man paled just a bit at the thought. In truth Cronen knew little of the woman-vulture hybrids, other than that they could not stand being called ugly. This had been on Phyr Sa'resh's list of useful information for surviving Fallien.

Breaker kept walking until the sun dipped below the horizon, cresting two more dunes before stopping. He was on the verge of slumping down in the sand to rest when his eye caught a spark from a nearby copse of cacti. He stared and listened to the wind run over the dunes. There. He heard the distinct sound of steel scraping on flint, and the sparks came again. Who else besides myself and my opponent would be out here? He wondered. A part of his mind told him to stay put, to not stray from the path set out by the leather standards. But his curiosity would not allow him to rest until he knew who was striking a fire so far out in the desert.

Stepping carefully so as not to make a sound, Breaker stole off to investigate.

[Breaker]

Moving silently over sand during the semi-darkness of twilight presented some problems. Breaker stepped slowly into the thick cactus patch, taking care with each footfall so that he missed the needles of the plants and his metal boots settled softly. At the center of the grove a fire grew, and Breaker smelled a strange perfume on the smoke. It seemed inviting, and certainly not toxic. As the flames grew he could see the shadow of a figure through the prickly plants, and then a female voice chanted in Fallieni to the first stars in the night sky.

"Oh Goddess of the Moon whose light shines at night
Send me your servant of silent deadly flight
Carry me between mountains and stars, let me ride
To a place beyond the salt water where your servants abide."

It was Sall'Ema, the young woman who had claimed to be of the Esseker Tribe after claiming to be of the Deklan Tribe. Her back was to Breaker as he climbed through a final ring of cacti to a void at the center of the patch. Her black hair spilled over the back of her linen shirt, glistening in the firelight. She knelt on short slender legs, the bottoms of her soft-soled boots facing the sky.

"Join me by the fire," she called over her shoulder.

Breaker raised his eyebrows in surprise. He did not think he had made any sound as he approached. He allowed his footfalls to become heavy as he walked around the dancing flames and sat facing the small brown-eyed woman.

"My thanks," he said as he let the warmth lick at his sore muscles.

"Of course," Sall'Ema replied, "I can think of no one I'd sooner share this with than the Breaker of Corone." She gestured at the small copper pot set on a tripod over the flames. A paste was seared to the bottom of the pan, emitting a reddish smoke that contained the strange perfume Breaker had smelled. It appeared to be comprised of ground herbs blended with several drops of oil.

"What is this?" Josh asked as if mildly curious, "and who are you really? The truth this time, or I leave you alone with your ritual."

The woman smiled, and the triangular tattoos at the corners of her eyes crinkled. Those dark orbs seemed to measure him, and find him worthy.

"I am Sall'Ema," she insisted, "but of the Mi'sheteri. The Glasswalkers," she added in Tradespeak, in case he had misunderstood. "I have been on a quest for three turns of the moon, seeking the ingredients you see in that pan." She rummaged in the haversack at her side and pulled forth the griffin's feather she had pilfered from Josh. "This," she said, holding the feather over the fire in both hands, "is the final component. Oil from the great winged guardians of the oasis." She broke the feather in half and a single yellowy drop of oil oozed into the pan.

The smoke changed to a deeper shade of red and the scent became stronger, almost compelling. It rose up into the dark sky, tickled by a slight breeze as it dissipated toward the stars. The scent lingered and wafted, traveling with the wind across the dunes toward Suravani's Oasis.

"I have studied long to become a shaman of the fabled Hybrid Isle," Sall'Ema said, and her smile grew wider. She really was beautiful, especially so when the firelight flickered over her fine, tanned features. "Among the Mi'sheteri I was attendant to the high shaman, as great an honor as has ever been held by one so young." She wiggled slightly with pride. "But I wish to journey beyond this great dry continent. I wish to meet outlanders, and see where they live. I desire more. Surely you understand my meaning." She said with what might have been a wink.

"What have you heard of me?" Breaker asked. For every exploit of his that was well known, it seemed there were a dozen or so fables.

"I have heard--" Sall'Ema began...

Colors whirled above their heads, and the Fallieni's voice seemed swallowed by an absence of sound. Sand lifted off of ground which shook with a solid thump.

The griffin had landed next to the fire in between them. The same griffin Breaker had encountered what seemed like a week earlier. He recognized it by the way it shrugged a ruffled wing as if sore. Sall'Ema's mouth fell open and she stared in disbelief at the towering, majestic creature. Her eyes nearly climbed out of her head as she took in the brash hooked beak, the wings and hawklike talons, and the muscular rear legs and body of a lion.

"Good to see you again," Josh said to the griffin, returning Sall'Ema's wink.

[Breaker]

"It is good to see you as well, Joshua Cronen." The griffin said. It pawed the sand with its rear legs and carved furrows with its talons. It inflated its feathered chest with a large breath that flexed its folded wings. "I am glad you have decided to complete the ritual and venture to the Hybrid Isle. Few have the daring, the courage, and the faith to undergo such..."

Sall'Ema cleared her throat softly. The griffin did not appear to notice.

"... such a legendary feat. When the scribes and poets write of your deeds, this will be the pinnacle among them. You will forever be remembered as the first man not native to Fallien who--"

"I didn't," Josh interrupted, barely fighting back laughter. The griffin lost its train of thought and turned its head sideways, regarding him with one massive golden eye. Sall'Ema scrambled to her feet and stomped the ground angrily.

"I did!" Sall'Ema hollered a yard from the griffin's ear. The extraordinary beast nearly stumbled but dug claws and talons into the soft ground to keep its feet. "I, Sall'Ema of the Mi'sheteri, true daughter of Suravani. It was I who summoned you here this night."

Josh nodded as the griffin glanced back at him, and then chuckled as the beast ruffled its plumage and turned to face the female in a series of small, sand-kneading steps. If feathers could blush, Josh thought, that creature would be pure crimson about now.

The griffin took a settling breath and focused its fearsome gaze on Sall'Ema. The woman squared her shoulders and faced it bravely. Breaker could hear her heartbeat quicken.

"My apologies, daughter of Suravani." The griffin bent its plumed forelegs and inclined its head in a majestic bow. "It will be an honor to fly you to your destiny on Hybrid Isle. You must have searched wide and far finding the ingredients to produce that smoke." It gestured at the pot over the fire with a sharp movement of its beak. "Such a task is no small thing, and it has earned you the right to find a place among the strongest shamans in all of Fallien."

Sall'Ema's eyes were wide as two coins, and her skin seemed to glow in the moon's silver light. She brushed a stray lock of black hair behind her ear and crouched to shoulder her haversack. She seemed at a loss for words, and took a tentative step toward the griffin.

"Come now, climb on my back," said the lion of the skies, crouching and unfolding its wings, "the flight will take some hours, and the other apprentices will be waiting to greet you."

"Wait," Sall'Ema said, finally finding her voice. She touched her lips and cleared her throat. "What about the Breaker? Could you carry us both?"

"Of course I could," the griffin retorted sharply, "but he has not completed the ritual. I am bound by oath never to assist a mortal in finding Hybrid Isle unless they--"

"But I'm not exactly mortal, am I?" Josh interrupted, smiling at Sall'Ema. The griffin coughed and shuffled its talons. "We could fight over it," Josh offered, "if you've forgotten how that worked out the first time."

"Of course not, young deity." The griffin lowered its ferocious eyes in deference. "I suppose if this daughter of Suravani wishes to share her ride with you, it is not my place to say no."

"I do so wish," said Sall'Ema. She took two large steps toward the griffin and leaped upon its back as if mounting a horse. She hugged its broad neck and lay flat between the massive wings. "Join me Joshua," she called with ecstasy in her voice.

Breaker swung up behind her and found ample room for both of them on the griffin's broad back. He leaned forward, feeling the coarse linen of Sall'Ema's shirt on his bare chest.

"Ready," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and pinching his knees together.

"We are prepared," Sall'Ema said, her voice squeaking with excitement.

"Away... we... go!" The griffin shrieked the final word like a hawk and began its shambling run up the nearest dune.

[Breaker]

Sand sprayed and colors swirled as the griffin and its riders erupted from the top of the dune. Heavy wings beat the air with a steady thrumm, thrumm, thrumm as the world below fell away and the starry sky rushed to greet them. They flew straight up, into the light of the crescent moon, and then arced toward the Mountains of Zaileyah.

Josh could feel the griffin's steady, rhythmic breathing between his knees, offset by Sall'Ema's shallow, rapid respiration. The woman's heart was pounding through her back so hard that his own regular pulse strained to catch it. Allowing the slipstream to hold him flat, Josh released his grip on her waist and pressed his palms softly into her sides.

"Calm your breathing," he shouted over the wind, "it will slow your heart." He assisted her in finding a steadier rhythm, releasing the pressure on her abdomen at regular intervals. As they banked over the mountain range and turned south away from the moon Sall'Ema regained control of her heart rate and relaxed her grip on the griffin's neck, letting her legs and the slipstream keep her in place.

"My thanks," she called to Josh, twisting her neck so her mouth was only inches from his ear, "I never thought I would find a mount more exhilarating than a good horse." She laughed musically as the griffin swooped over a thermal, rising suddenly on the updraft of warm air.

"I think the exhilaration has just begun," Josh said, stretching his neck to look over the griffin's head. He could see for miles upon miles, soaring over the desert continent.

The griffin settled into a prolonged, peaceful glide along the mountain range's spine. They bypassed settlements and small cities on the left, set between the foothills surrounding the mountains and the great sea. Sall'Ema named each settlement aloud as they passed it by. The Ruins of Katahkir, Ras Arid, Marayyah, and the Hiding Place of Coradan. She had visited each in her travels. Breaker wanted to ask about the cities but the beauty of the country took his breath away.

This must be as Suravani sees it, he realized. The moon watched them bank to the right and soar out over the dunes once more. The griffin kept altitude with barely a beat of its wings, navigating the airways as it had been born to do.

As they passed over a section of flatland thousands of glittering beacons shone up from the sands, reflecting back the moon's own silver light.

"Nirakkal!" Sall'Ema cried, leaning dangerously over the griffin's wing for a better look. "These are the glassfields where I grew up," she told Josh, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "It has been three months since I looked on the beauty of the Blight. Oh, do you see how it sparkles? If only we could stop a moment, to dance among the fields and harvest glass with my brothers and sisters."

"Your new brothers and sisters are waiting," Josh reminded her, "what is that settlement up ahead?" He asked, pointing at a crumbling sandstone wall in the distance. It looked gray in the moonlight.

"The Ruins of Aravir," she said in a faraway voice, "Breaker, do you think I shall ever see my home again?"

"Home is where your heart yearns to be," Josh mused, "but I think... I think that living on an island with a flock of griffins, you have many great journeys in your future."

Sall'Ema seemed to accept the answer, and she fell quiet as they soared toward Fallien's southern shore. The wind smelled of salt as they neared the great sea, and increased in intensity. Soon conversation became impossible as the screeching slipstream forced them flat between the griffin's wings. Breaker's bare back grew cold as they flew out over the water amidst the harsh cries of seabirds far below. The wind grew stronger still, threatening to pluck them from their precarious perch, yet Breaker and Sall'Ema refused to let go. A dull ache formed in Joshua's legs from pinching his knees together. His back began to feel numb, and he could only imagine the state of Sall'Ema's hands; she had them gripped around that thick feathery neck again.

The griffin swooped into a dive. Josh's stomach tried to leap up his throat. The waves grew rapidly as they plummeted toward the water. The wind became unbearable and then suddenly abated. The griffin smoothed out into a level glide as the sea shimmered and an island appeared like a desert mirage. It rose out of the water sharply, all hard cliffs and rough edges save for a stream that split the middle like an axe blade biting into a stump. The griffin seemed keen to dash them against the cliff face, but it flexed its wings and swooped into an opening in the rocks, landing calmly in a large cave some hundred feet above the sea. Its riders found themselves gasping in the stillness. Their breath echoed throughout the cavern and disappeared down a long, dark tunnel.

[Breaker]

The griffin's golden eyes glowed like twin lanterns in the cavern's darkness. Despite the lack of light Josh could make out the craggy walls and sloping floor littered with red-gold feathers. He slid off the griffin's back and landed heavily, metal boots clanking on harsh stone. He felt slightly bow-legged from the ride, and stretched his quadriceps one at a time. Sall'Ema followed him to the ground and landed lightly, rubbing her hands together to circulate blood. Both of them were at a loss for words; nothing they said could sum up the majesty of the flight, or the terror of the final dive.

"You both did well, surviving this ride." The griffin said as it folded tired wings behind its back. It tipped its beak toward the long tunnel that led deep into the cliffs of Hybrid Isle. "Hist, the apprentices arrive to greet you, daughter of Suravani." Fearsome golden eyes turned to face Josh. "They may not be happy to see you, young deity."

Soft-booted footsteps echoed out of the tunnel, and the dancing light of two torches appeared around a corner. The torch-bearers were both young men, and between them walked a tall woman. All three wore flowing silken robes of green and gray that reflected the fire's light. They stopped just inside the cavern and the woman stepped forward. She had smooth features despite her middling age and wore her brown hair back in a loose braid. Her dark eyes smiled at them but her mouth remained in a narrow line.

"Welcome Sall'Ema, daughter of Suravani," she said. "You have passed the tests laid down by Suravani herself, and are hereby accepted as an apprentice of Hybrid Isle. From this day forward you will dedicate your life to the ancient alchemy and arcane arts that created the griffins who serve alongside us." The griffin bent plumed knees in one of its majestic bows, beak dipping so low as to nearly strike stone.

"It will be my honor, and privilege," Sall'Ema said, "long have I dreamed of this day." She touched Breaker's shoulder and met his gaze, and then moved across the cavern as if floating. A wide smile covered her face and tears welled at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you for accepting me."

"You have earned your acceptance," the tall woman reminded her. "Go now with these two," she said, taking a torch from one of the men. "They will escort you on a tour of the isle and show you to your quarters." Her dark eyes flicked past the griffin to focus on Breaker. "I will deal with your... outlander."

The two men guided Sall'Ema along the tunnel and the griffin followed, leaving Josh alone with the tall woman. Her torch guttered as a gust of wind found the cavern. The sound, like flapping canvas, echoed throughout the cave.

"How is it that an outlander from Corone found his way to Hybrid Isle?" The woman demanded. Her braid swayed as she leaned her head to the side and took a step forward, torch throwing shadows across the walls. "Even for one so mighty as Joshua Breaker Cronen, this is a feat indeed."

[Breaker]

How in Haide's furthest reaches does everyone here know my name? Josh wondered. Refusing to appear shocked, he raked a hand through sweat-slicked hair and strode up to the woman with a hint of a swagger. They stood almost nose to nose, her dark brown eyes falling a mere inch beneath his light hazel ones.

"Your griffin owed me his life," he explained with a cheeky smile, "and I helped your new apprentice with the final ingredient for her ritual. I do hope that isn't against any of your rules." Josh lifted a hand and passed his palm through the torch's flame, causing it to waver. His smile grew. "Now why don't you tell me your name so that we can be properly introduced, daughter of Suravani."

The tall woman swayed slightly, as if unbalanced by his audacity. She glanced at the flickering torch, and then behind her into the winding tunnel. Finally she fixed Josh with an even stare and placed her free hand on her hip.

"I am Marietta," she said levelly, "and you, I suppose, are welcome to rest here for a time. Once the griffin that brought you here has gathered his strength, he will return you whence you came." She tossed her head, long braid swinging dangerously close to the torch, and turned. "Follow me," she said as she started down the tunnel.

Josh kept pace with her easily. The walls and floors of the tunnel were slick with water and the air smelled faintly of mildew. As they wound their way deeper into the cliffs that composed Hybrid Isle, he saw offshoots from the main shaft that led into well-lit areas. The walls of some chambers were inset with a kind of quartz that glowed naturally, providing dim lighting. Josh glimpsed a library bearing stacks upon stacks of book-laden shelves, and a common area where men and women dined at long driftwood tables.

"How did this place come to be?" Breaker asked his stoic guide. Her disapproving glare softened somewhat as she explained the beginnings of the place she called home.

"Ages ago there lived an alchemist whose life's work consisted of forging hybrids - crosses between two species." She explained tersely as they rounded a sharp bend, "according to our legend his first creation was the harpies. Something went wrong in the process and they became twisted, evil beings with no shame. Suravani saw potential in the alchemist, and pulled this island from the depths of the sea. She gave it as a gift, alongside the service of some of her strongest shamans. The alchemist worked hard and long, producing a number of hybrid creatures. The gem of his achievements were the griffins, such majestic and powerful beasts that Suravani named them her guardians of the land."

The tunnel sloped downward suddenly and Breaker almost missed a step, stumbling in the semi-dark, metal boots grating the coarse ground. Marietta smirked but continued telling her story as she moved onward with sure-footed grace.

"Over the years before his passing the alchemist created many new breeds; the desert drakes, the Karuku-tal, even the giant scorpions that plague the Fallieni night. The griffins bore the infant forms of each species to the mainland where they could hunt and thrive. Over time, our task has changed. We no longer create new creatures, but keep the histories of the Fallieni people and their magic, and protect Suravani's most sacred treasures."

"So the griffins guarding the oasis for the Esseker clan..." Josh mused. He could hear running water echoing down the tunnel.

"It is but one of their many duties." Marietta acknowledged with an approving nod. "Here we are," she said as the tunnel opened onto flat land, "this is our scrying chamber. I show it to you to satisfy your curiosity, and to keep you away from the rest of the isle. Most Fallieni are not as... tolerant... of outlanders as young Sall'Ema."

They arrived in a cavern where a natural spring spurted from the ceiling, creating a waterfall that cascaded into a shallow pool and bled out into the stream Breaker had seen from above. Moonlight reflected off the water, giving the cavern enough natural light for him to see. Soft mosses carpeted the cave, particularly thick in layers by the water's edge. The walls were smooth and bore carvings that showed a woman tossing a stone into the pool.

Marietta picked up a stone from a pile by the wall and weighed it in her hand. She looked at Breaker, who smiled and gestured for her to continue. She reached a willowy arm out over the water and dropped the stone in with a small spe-lunk.

"Show me the oasis," she commanded as the sound echoed around the cave.

The pool's water churned into a vortex and then stilled suddenly, showing Suravani's Oasis from above. The moon beat down on the large pool, gently swaying palms, and clusters of tents.

"Like this, we are able to monitor our griffins and agents throughout the land. We are also able to detect incoming portals, such as yours," Marietta explained generously. She waved her hand as if swatting a fly and the image in the water vanished. "You may rest here while your mount sups and sleeps."

"My thanks," Breaker replied, touching hand to heart. Marietta inclined her head slightly and whisked away, torch guttering in her wake.

Josh walked over to the edge of the pool, watching reflected moonbeams play on the cavern's ceiling, and lay down on the soft moss. He meant only to relax for a moment, but the hypnotic sound of flowing water and the silver dancing light soon sent him into a sound sleep.

[Breaker]

The scrying pool stirred, and from the rippling surface rose a woman made from water. Am'aleh, the Coroninan deity of the sea, strode through the shallows towards her sleeping champion. Her raindrop-like eyes smiled down on him, and she reached out a hand of still liquid to caress his shoulder.

Josh looked up, knowing he was dreaming and not wanting to wake. It was too long since he felt his goddess' presence. She was beauty incarnate and peace made mobile. She was his reason for living, the true reason he'd come to Fallien. It was for her glory that he searched to assemble an army. The Gisela Open would be a fine training ground to give the troops some common experience... but bringing power to his Lady of the Water's side was paramount in Breaker's mind.

"How do the desert climes like you?" Am'aleh asked.

"Well enough," Josh said. He touched the liquid hand that caressed his cheek, kissing her effervescent fingertips. "I do miss Corone's temperate nature... the moisture in the air... the sea." He swung his legs around and stood in the pool facing her, slightly taller, looking down so their lips nearly met.

"The sea is here, too." Am'aleh whispered, turning her head so her blue shimmering locks cascaded to one side.

"It's not the same," Breaker insisted, combing a hand through her hair. The feeling of each succulent strand enthralled him.

"Then you must return to me, soon." Am'aleh said, taking his hands in hers, skin softer than silk. "But while you are here... you could entreat my sister to an alliance. As her people would complement your forces, her powers would complement mine."

"Your sister..." Josh considered a moment, inhaling Am'aleh's scent of soft salt and ocean air. "Suravani?"

"Who else, in this land?" The Goddess of the Sea whispered.

"And how should I entreat her?" Josh asked.

"Any way you like," Am'aleh said, and stretched up on tiptoe to kiss Breaker on the cheek. "You were successful in earning my patronage. So might you be with Suravani."

Footsteps echoed from the mouth of the tunnel. Breaker blinked, and Am'aleh was gone. He stood alone in the scrying pool, water lapping playfully at his knees.

"Breaker?" Called Sall'Ema, her voice echoing inside the cavern. "What are you doing in the water?"

[Breaker]

She had changed into robes similar to those of their welcoming party, flowing silks of green and gray that blended with the chamber's mossy rock walls. Her soft-booted feet flowed effortlessly to the water's edge, and she extended a petite callused hand. The robes hung well, accentuating curves that had been all but obscured by her original linen garb. Dark eyes looked down on him from the stone precipice, coals that smouldered above the elegant arc of her smile.

"I was speaking with my goddess," Josh said, and reached out. He reached past her outstretched hand with both of his own and clasped her waist gently but firmly. "She says I am to meet with Suravani." He lifted Sall'Ema off the ledge as if she weighed nothing.

The Fallieni woman wrapped her legs around him and squeezed her knees together as if riding a bucking stallion. Most men would have collapsed under the pressure, but Breaker's rib cage appeared forged from iron, and he stood impassively until Sall'Ema slumped from exhaustion. His sleek, muscular arms encircled her and his wide palm cradled her head.

"Have you ever spoken with Suravani, or any deity?" Josh asked. His voice echoed amidst the sound of sloshing water.

"I speak to Suravani often," Sall'Ema whispered. She curled forward in his arms until their foreheads met and spoke so softly the sound barely escaped her lips. "But she never speaks back to me."

"It is a wonder like no other," Breaker whispered, "to witness one of such worship. And it leaves me wanting..." He pressed Sall'Ema against the mossy wall and kissed her hard on the lips, still cradling her head in one hand. Her eyes widened for a moment but then closed as she melted into his embrace.

The water lapped at Josh's legs as he took her roughly against the wall.

[Breaker]

She wore no undergarments beneath the robes. Nothing to stop him slipping inside her silken, sodden folds. She gasped and the sound echoed, fading slowly until she gasped again and the sound rebounded anew. Her lithe legs opened and then wrapped around the warrior holding her against the wall, crossed ankles urging him inside her.

As pleasure cascaded through his body Breaker awoke as if from a trance, and lifted a callused hand to caress the beautiful face before him. Sall'Ema smiled and took his hand in both of hers, tangling it in her long brown hair. Josh closed his fist, pulling at the roots of the woman's hair and drawing a grunt from her gritted teeth.

"You don't," Josh said, thrusting deep inside the Fallieni woman, "desire a gentle touch, do you?"

Sall'Ema wriggled her back against the mossy stone wall and growled like a lioness.

"Everything in Fallien is rough," she said into his ear, and then bit the bare flesh of his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. Her fingernails raked up the intricate pattern of scars on his back.

As the delirium induced by his dream of Am'aleh faded Josh realized exactly where they were, and what they were doing. He made an effort to finish quickly and then lay Sall'Ema down on the mossy floor, her rumpled robes barely discernible from the ground around her. Josh lay next to the Fallieni woman and allowed her to snuggle into his side, encircling her shoulders with one muscular arm. The giddiness he had been feeling since Am'aleh's kiss finally waned, and his mind refocused on the task at hand.

"How would I go about procuring a meeting with Suravani?" He asked, as if to anyone, but Sall'Ema answered swiftly.

"I have shown you griffins and the great Hybrid Isle, Breaker. Would you truly ask for an audience with our goddess after that?"

"In Corone, I am known for many things," Josh said, and kissed the dark eyed beauty on her forehead. "For fighting," he kissed her cheek, "for business," he kissed her neck, "for loving," he lowered the hem of her robes and kissed her breast, and then nipped the rosy flesh. "But most of all for my connection to Am'aleh, the deity of the sea. She has asked me to contact Suravani on her behalf, and so I will. Would you refuse a request from your goddess?"

Sall'Ema's chin protruded stubbornly for a moment, but her eyes showed that she could see no way around the neat trap.

"There is a ritual..." she said slowly, eyes gazing down the tunnel that led to the sea, "but I cannot think you would find all of the ingredients. You would need to journey to every corner of Fallien-"

"Unless," Breaker interrupted, "I knew someone who had access to the alchemy stores on Hybrid Isle. Surely they would have everything I need."

Sall'Ema's mouth formed a ring of surprise, but she quickly schooled her features.

"They may," she acknowledged, "I was shown the stores on my tour. But what you ask..."

"Is a great thing," Josh nodded, "for an even greater purpose. And here is what I offer in return: a promise."

"A promise?" Sall'Ema quirked an elegant eyebrow and smoothed the skirts of her robes, to no avail.

"That one day I will return and visit you here, and if you so desire, take you away." Josh said simply. He waited while the proposal swept over Sall'Ema. She wavered slightly and then smiled.

"I accept your promise, Breaker. Now I must go, before Marietta returns. Only..." She stood and gestured helplessly at her robes. They were caked with grime and chunks of moss, and the hems were sodden, and the wrinkles left little wonder as to what she had done.

"Stay still," Josh advised, and extended a hand. Water rose from the scrying pool and flowed as if inside an invisible conduit toward Sall'Ema. It soaked into every fiber of her robes and then retracted, dark with grime and moss, back into the pool. The Fallieni woman was left wearing a perfectly dry set of robes that looked freshly pressed.

"You are..." she said, and seemingly unable to find the right word, punched him in the shortribs. Josh chuckled as she gathered her robes and scurried out the way she had come. The demigod stroked his chin and after a moment turned and sat cross legged on the moss. He had nothing to do but wait.

[Breaker]

Time passed and the scrying pool lapped at its mossy edges. Reflected moonlight played on the cavern's ceiling and water droplets occasioned the moist air, spattering with their signature sound on the soft ground.

Breaker sat, and he waited. His deep hazel eyes above their twin Y-shaped scars reflected the shimmering waters of the scrying pool. In his mind Am'aleh was there, watching him back. In his mind he had already returned home to the forests of Corone, an army at his heel, the patronage of Suravani in his heart. Entreating the goddess would be his most difficult task. He cast his mind back. How had he endeared himself to Am'aleh? She'd come to him at his lowest time. She'd saved him. Such would not be the case with Suravani. Breaker would have to woo her, if she could be wooed. Seduce her, if a lowly demigod such as he could do such a thing.

It occurred to him that Suravani had been watching him since he set foot in her domain. That she watched him even then.

"Oh how the moon shines beautifully this night," Breaker said, "if only she had a voice, I wager it would be many times as bright."

Only the swell of the scrying pool answered him.

After a time Breaker became aware of a presence near the mouth of the cavern. Someone still out of sight in the tunnel. Someone spying.

"You may come in, Marietta." Josh said, his voice resounding on the rock walls.

The Fallieni woman walked in with no shame on her face, her robes swishing, the torch in her hand flickering. The firelight seemed harsh and unnecessary in the moonlit chamber. Josh was already on his feet facing her. She showed no shock nor alarm at his speed and dexterity.

"I hesitated, lest you try to come in me," she said, "who were you speaking with just now?"

"What are you insinuating?" Josh asked, mildly amused. She wouldn't know... would she?

"I insinuate nothing," Marietta steamed, "but the fact remains, my newest protege is pregnant."

Josh's eyebrows nearly climbed to his hairline. He breathed.

"You couldn't know," he said, "unless..."

"It is a gift from Suravani," Marietta confirmed with a nod, "ever since I was a little girl I have been able to tell when a woman is with child. The moment she is with child." She admonished with a shake of her head, brown braid swaying. She beckoned impatiently with her free hand. "Come now, your griffin has adequately rested. You must leave."

"Are you not equipped for a pregnancy here?" Josh asked as he joined her at the mouth of the tunnel.

"Of course we are," Marietta snorted, "many of our number name this island as their birthright. But do you not wish to be in your child's life?"

Josh walked at her side in silence for a moment. The torchlight flickered through the carved tunnel and their footsteps echoed along the vast network. Should he tell Marietta that he'd intended to take Sall'Ema with him, eventually? A child would be a welcome addition. And yet he sensed that she was goading him, so he played the goat well enough.

"It is not my way," he answered, "and I would never have known if not for your ability." They passed the rest of the winding journey in a harsh silence.

The torch guttered as they entered the familiar large cavern which smelled faintly of griffin. The great beast stood at the ready, hidden spells crackling in its coat and plumage. Its beak glistened in the firelight and its talons and claws raked the rocky floor impatiently.

"We must away, if we wish to make it before the morn." The griffin said. It bent its mighty forelegs, granting Josh an easy path to its gold-red back.

"Good, off with you." Marietta said. She turned and strode down the tunnel, taking the flickering light with her.

Breaker waited in the darkness, and no one came. He shook his head in remorse. It seemed Sall'Ema had not succeeded at her task. Perhaps she had been caught, or perhaps the appropriate materials were not available. He sighed and slid athletically onto the griffin's back, gripping it between his knees and finding stability. The return flight would be long and agonizing, for he knew not how he would find Suravani.

[Breaker]

With Breaker perched on its broad back, the griffin stalked towards the mouth of the cave, where a low wind moaned against the opening. The great beast paused on the stony brink, ruffling its feathers.

"Hist, young deity," the griffin said, "be swift; there is a parcel meant for you concealed beneath my right wing. Reach for it now!"

Josh flattened himself against the beast's back as he had done during its hair-raising dives, and reached beneath a heavily muscled wing. His hand encountered a small leather satchel, bound shut with strips of canvas. His heart soared like a griffin riding the thermals. Sall'Ema had succeeded after all. Josh clutched the satchel in both hands and gripped the griffin's back with his knees.

"Thank you, my friend," he whispered next to the guardian's ear.

"I know not what you speak of, young deity," the griffin said, and plunged from the precipice.

The return flight was less enthralling without a gasping Sall'Ema pressed against Josh's body. The feeling of wind whipping by on all sides and the sight of Fallieni establishments far below felt comparatively dull. They winged through the night by the moon's silver light; despite the supplies stolen from Hybrid Isle, it seemed Suravani still blessed Breaker's passage. Perhaps she endeavored to meet him as much as he did her.

After what seemed a surprisingly short time, the griffin landed in a thud of scattered sand. Breaker slid down from its back, recognizing the nearby cactus grove and the small fire pit Sall'Ema had used to summon the mythical beast. The first creased brow lines of dawn were just peering over the dunes to the east, and the air smelled of fresh opportunities.

"Thank you," Josh said to the griffin, "for everything," he added, giving the sealed satchel a small shake.

"Thank you, Joshua Cronen, for my life." The griffin replied, reminding him that they had met by nearly killing one another. It bent its plumed forelegs in an elegant bow. Josh smiled and returned the gesture, keeping his eyes on the fearsome beak and talons.

"May I know your name?" He asked as he straightened his spine.

"I am merely a son of Suravani." The griffin clicked its beak and then broke into a shambling run and lifted off. In a cyclone of sand and a swirling of dawn colors, it vanished.

Breaker took a deep breath and heard a familiar noise. He looked to his left. The head of a horse, followed by the torso of the young Fallieni rider, crested a dune. He looked to his right. The next leather standard marking out the race's course flapped slightly in the growing wind. Josh hung the leather satchel across his shoulders and started to run.

[Breaker]

At first the morning sun provided a pleasant warming sensation after the cool night air. Josh fell into a steady rhythm of running, the satchel bouncing against his bare chest, his black metal boots backsliding a half step for every one he took forward in the sparkling sand. For the better part of an hour he maintained his short lead, and then the horse and rider began to make up ground. The animal's long strides seemed to devour distance, its unshod hooves steady and experienced in the sand. Rather than push himself Breaker slowed his pace and allowed the duo to draw even. A sideways glance showed a victorious gleam in the young rider's eye.

Good, Josh thought, he thinks this is the best I can do.

"What is your name?" Breaker gasped, allowing the fatigue he felt to creep into his voice. He powered around a particularly unstable section of sand, maintaining an even footing with the steed and rider.

"You wish to know who will defeat you in Suravani's Trial?" The Fallieni youth answered with a laugh, "I am Darius the Swift, and this is my steed, Sandthorne... together we have served as personal messenger to the the chief of all Deklans for several years. None can match our speed." He sat straight and proud as his horse crested the dune and bypassed a leather standard.

Only a half-step behind, Josh sprinted for a moment to draw even.

"Not even a griffin in flight?" He asked, and was rewarded with a look of surprise from Darius. "For I hear they can soar... like this!" Josh raced to the brink of the dune's downward slope and leaped off. For a moment he soared through the air, and then he impacted the dirt and rolled downhill like a log. Sand stuck to his bare chest, arms, neck and face, and invaded his breeches and boots. He came to a halt at the bottom of the dune and spat out grit, continuing onward on shaky legs, weaving slightly with dizziness. It was worth the effort; the mad maneuver had put him ahead by half the dune's length.

For the rest of the day the race continued in this way; Darius and Sandthorne would nearly catch Breaker as he crested a dune, and then the demigod would regain his lead by rolling down the far side. By the time the sun stood at its zenith Josh was caked from boots to hair in golden-brown sand.

"You look like a granite phantom," Darius jested as they climbed yet another knoll. The Fallieni youth unstopped his lone skin and took a short pull, swishing the life-giving water around inside his dry mouth. "Would you care for a drink?" He asked, holding the vessel out as he once again drew even with the demigod.

"My thanks," Josh responded, waving the container away, "but that is not within the rules of the contest. Perhaps you should share it with your mount. He is the one doing all the work!"

Darius laughed out loud and took another short drink before stowing the skin.

"Steeds from Suravani's Oasis can travel hard for three days without food or water," he boasted, patting Sandthorne's sleek white neck. The stallion snorted as if in agreement.

Breaker had nothing to say to that; he was impressed, and he could not help but think about what he could do on the battlefield with a hundred such horses and their hardy riders. With the ability to travel so lightly for so long, the Fallieni cavalry's movements would be all but impossible for an enemy commander to predict. Most companies of cavalry had to either stay close to food and water sources, or travel heavy with supplies. Breaker allowed Darius to gain a short lead as he pondered the possibilities of doing battle with Suravani's steeds under his command.

Only Breaker's innate regenerative abilities kept his skin from burning black as the sun descended to the west. The coating of sand sticking to his sweat provided some protection, but still his face and torso tanned a deep brown shade similar to that of the Fallieni folk. As the bottom of the raging sun began to slip below the horizon, Josh caught up with Darius once more. The Fallieni youth was busy striking flint against steel.

"Come share my fire," he called as Breaker crested the dune he had chosen as his camp, "perhaps you will keep Sandthorne and I safe from the harpies this night."

[Breaker]

Darius sparked a small flame that caught and grew on the tinder and dried wood he'd brought in his saddlebags. While the fire devoured the wood the youth unpacked two blankets, spreading the first over his mount's back and neck before sitting by the fire with the second wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He sipped sparingly from his skin and gazed at the next leather standard in the distance. His stomach growled.

Breaker sat across the fire from the Fallieni, still caked in sand, his hazel eyes watching the youth from beneath the layer of dirt. Although he longed for a drink, or to lay down and relax, he remained straight-backed and alert. He was waiting for something.

"With luck, we might catch a hare to cook before nightfall." Darius said.

"I suppose we could," Breaker replied.

"Are you not thirsty?" Darius asked, once again offering his water skin.

"Yes," Breaker said, and lifted a hand. In a wisp of fog an ornate icy vessel appeared, brimming with clean cold water. He took a short drink, enjoying the sensation of the frigid liquid on his parched throat, and then smiled. "Would you like me to refill your water skin?" He offered, extending a hand.

"That is not within the rules of our contest," Darius replied, cradling his skin protectively. "Where did you get that?" He asked suddenly, pointing at the small satchel hanging around Breaker's neck. "You did not have it when first we departed."

"It was a gift," Josh said simply, allowing his icy chalice to dissipate in a puff of steam. The last rays of sunlight slipped over the horizon, and the moon's brilliance grew.

"A... a g-gift from whom?" Darius demanded, clearly put off by the display of water magic.

"From Suravani herself." Josh smiled. His white teeth shone by the light of the moon, and his eyes glistened. The rest of his body remained so still and covered in sand, he blended with the top of the dune.

Darius' stomach growled again, and he realized his folly; he'd wasted the last of the sunlight in conversation. He hunkered down next to the small fire, pulling the blanket tightly about himself, and closed his eyes.

"I am for sleep," he muttered.

Josh leaned back and rested the palms of his hands on the coarse sand. Although his body felt baked and sore from two days of hard travel in the Fallieni sun, he had no need nor want for sleep. The short rest he'd received on Hybrid Isle had rejuvenated him considerably, for he possessed many times the endurance of any ordinary man. He let his thoughts slip back to Sall'Ema, and then to Am'aleh, and his eyes fell to gaze at the satchel still hanging around his neck. It had been badly battered throughout the day, but was still sealed tightly with strips of canvas. The temptation to open it seized him, but he knew he must not. He did not desire to meet Suravani until after he passed her trial in a way no mortal man could.

Neither the night chill nor the far-off cries of hunting harpies could force him to hunker down. As the hours passed Breaker sat stoically, leaning back slightly, gazing up at the moon.

[Breaker]

Darius awoke as morning's first rays pierced the dark clouds which lurked over the Zaileya Mountains. The Fallieni rider sat up with his blanket still tucked in the folds of his arms, surprised to find his opponent sitting across the remains of the fire. The youth wasted little time; he sprang to his feet and set about packing his blanket and the one draped over his horse away in the saddlebags.

"I fought off a horde of harpies last night," Breaker commented, "you really should thank me." The demigod had a thoughtful expression on his face as he gazed up at the lightening sky. The moon still stood overhead, although she faded with every moment the sun rose.

"Did Sandthorne do nothing to help?" Darius responded with a smirk as he saddled the white stallion, "he is ordinarily quite handy in a fight!" The youth sprang lightly atop his steed's back and wheeled the horse about to face the next leather standard in the long, winding line. "Why did you not gain a lead while I slept?" Darius asked, his forehead creased and his long, wild hair blowing in the wind.

"It did not seem sporting," Josh replied. He stood up, still coated in sand from the previous day's racing, and flexed his shoulders. "Are you ready to go home and get some food, Darius?"

In answer the Fallieni youth let out a feral yell and dug his heels into his horse's flanks. Sandthorne leaped forward and cantered down the dune, kicking up grit in his wake.

Josh smiled and followed them at an easy jog, not trying to keep up, but settling for keeping the rider in sight. The course had yet to fully loop around, and he knew they had a long day's travel ahead. He endured it with inhuman stamina, slogging up embankments and rolling down hills until he felt battered and sore all over. As he watched Darius disappear over yet another sandy peak he increased his pace, sprinting up the next slope. The sun had ventured all the way across the blue sky while Breaker labored below. In a few hours night would fall, and before that Suravani's Trial would be finished.

"Oh no," Breaker breathed as he crested the dune. Below he could see Sandthorne thrashing in a pit, Darius struggling to find his feet at his steed's side. They were surrounded by harpies. The half woman, half vulture hybrids pecked and screeched, slashing with vicious claws at the Fallieni rider. Breaker raced down the slope, searching his mind for all he knew about harpies. They're child thieves, he remembered Phyr Sa'resh telling him, and they're incredibly vain. Reaching the edge of the lair-nest, Josh raised his arms and summoned water from the air in the form of snow. Flakes flew down among the harpies, distracting the carrion from their would-be prey.

"Hello ladies," Josh called in a rousing voice. Most of the harpies turned towards him, allowing Darius to seize Sandthorne's bridle and sneak toward the far side of the pit. Breaker allowed the snow flakes he'd created to melt and gathered the water in a great wave which washed over his body. It soaked his hair and his pants and scoured away the lion's share of the sand, revealing his tanned musculature. "May I say your are all looking ravishing. It must be this Fallieni sun that makes your golden hair sparkle so." Josh struck a pose with hands on hips, flexing his triceps, and it actually bloody well worked. With the harpies staring lustily at the demigod Darius was able to find a gentle enough slope to pull Sandthorne out of the nest.

"It was lovely to meet you all, ladies," Breaker said, walking quickly around the pit, "I'm sorry we interrupted your sleep, and yet I'm not sorry I got the chance to witness your beauty." The harpies had lost interest in him at that point, and were busy preening and fawning over themselves. Josh backed away from the pit slowly and nearly bumped into Sandthorne's side. He looked up at Darius. The youth sat in his saddle laughing silently at Breaker's antics.

"My thanks," Darius said, "we may not have escaped without you."

"Why did you not gallop away?" Josh asked, "you might have won by now."

"It did not seem sporting." Darius replied.

For a moment the two men locked eyes, and then rider and runner took off toward the final leather standard in a spray of sand.

[Breaker]

They passed the standard with Breaker and Sandthorne running shoulder to shoulder, and as they crested the next dune Suravani's Oasis appeared like a mirage. The palms bent beneath the breeze and the water shimmered in the dry air. Most of the people had turned out to watch the end of the race. Warriors, children, men and women, all stood about in varying states of unrest. As the competitors burst into sight cheers erupted from the onlookers. They were corralled into two groups either side of a long line drawn in the sand.

Breaker tried to put on a burst of speed, but his legs were taxed and the sliding sands resisted his efforts. His footsteps drummed the landscape in time with Sandthorne's headlong gallop.

Darius called encouragement to his steed, standing up in the stirrups and heeling the horse's flanks on every other step.

As they drew nearer Breaker saw the Deklan chieftain Sulatam, standing in her skirt and corset next to her masked and robed shaman. He heard voices screaming for Darius' victory, but also a fair few cheering on the Breaker. He smelled banked coals from fires and felt the fatigue rooted deep in his muscles from three days of hard travel. He pushed it all aside, ignoring everything but the approaching line in the sand. Each pounding breath brought him closer.

The mighty stallion from Suravani's Oasis refused to flag, and they neared the finishing mark with barely a needle's breath between them. And then, Sandthorne's pace seemed to decrease.

Breaker wanted to think he had put on a turn of speed, but his protesting muscles did not lie. Sandthorne had slowed slightly. Breaker buried his head and sprinted the last of the distance, crossing the line first by the length of his leg.

He had won. He had passed Suravani's Trial.

Josh doubled over, panting, the sandy plains seeming to spin around him. He had never exhausted his body quite so thoroughly. Sweat seeped from his pores, beading on his bare torso and soaking into his denim pants. As his breathing steadied and his vision solidified he felt a light hand on his shoulder.

Darius had climbed down from his saddle and thrown a congratulatory arm around the demigod.

"It seemed you slowed just at the end," Breaker muttered, slapping the Fallieni youth on the back.

"One of us had to win," Darius replied, "and I think Sandthorne has always wanted to see Corone." The rider's dark eyes flashed a knowing smile and then he was lost in the press of the crowd.

The Fallieni children surrounded Josh, reaching out sun-darkened hands to touch his muscles as if confirming that he were solid matter. A number of the warriors stepped up to congratulate him as well, doubtless intrigued by the idea of journeying to another land. And by the measure of a man who could outrun one of their own esteemed horses.

"Hold there," came a familiar, unnaturally amplified voice. The crowd thinned around Breaker until he stood in the middle of a small circle. The shaman stepped into the empty space with a flourish of his cloak.

"This man has cheated!" The shaman cried, voice reaching every ear present. "And therefore he has forfeited the race, and failed to pass Suravani's Trial."

[Breaker]

"Whoa there!" Josh cried, throwing up his hands as angry murmurs erupted throughout the crowd. "What evidence do you have that I cheated? I can tell you now you'll have none, because I did not. I would not disgrace the honor of Suravani's Trial."

"Phaw!" The shaman scoffed, "you are an outlander, what would you know of Suravani's honor? I have it on excellent authority that you deviated from the course during the race." Another wave of murmurs wafted through the crowd.

"What proof do you have?" Josh demanded over the hubbub.

"I do not need proof," the shaman said triumphantly, "we have a method for discovering the truth of these matters."

"If it's another race," Josh said flatly, "you'll need to let me rest first."

"There will be no rest!" The shaman cried, "nor will there be a race. A trial by combat shall determine your guilt."

Breaker perked up despite the fatigue weighing on his muscles. Before he'd become a demigod, before he met Am'aleh, before he learned any sort of magic, he'd been a fighter. And he'd never stopped training as a fighter. He liked to think he could fight better than most folk could walk. Even in his weakened state, a trial by combat sounded like a fine and fair idea.

"You will be matched against one of our finest warriors," the shaman continued, and Breaker brightened again. He could not remember the last time he'd lost a fight against a single opponent. And then the shaman finished his sentence; "me. To the fighting pit!" The masked man led a small stampede around the sandstone cliffs, to a part of the camp Breaker had yet to see. A large cubic pit dominated the area, perhaps twenty yards in length, depth, and width. Rope ladders had been staked to the ground alongside the pit, presumably thrown down to the winners. The bottom of the great trench was stained brown with blood old and new.

The shaman removed his hideous hound mask, revealing the scarred, surprisingly youthful face of a warrior. His nose, ears, and lips were all pierced with jewels studding the openings. He swept off his long cloak, displaying his lean, muscular body for the first time. Tattoos in the shapes of griffins, great hounds, and harpies decorated his back and chest. He snarled at Breaker and then took his gnarled driftwood staff from a second and leaped into the pit.

Breaker spread his bare hands wide and rotated slowly, showing the entire crowd he bore no weapons. He jumped down into the pit with a thud, brown sand crunching beneath his black metal boots. He squared off in a deep fighting stance and waited, breath flowing lightly, muscles already tired but willing to push some more.

"And now," the shaman shouted, his voice sounding strangely hollow without the amplifying mask, "we discover Suravani's true will!" He uttered a few words of power and smashed the butt of his staff down in the sand.

A distant baying erupted from all directions, growing louder rapidly. Four hounds the size of griffins slid to a stop at the edges of the pit, looking down at Breaker with dripping fangs bared. And then, as one body, they pounced.

[Breaker]

Breaker clapped his hands forcefully, sending a gust of wind throughout the pit. It raised a cloud of sand and silt, just as the great hounds pounced. Safe beneath the curtain of swirling grit, Josh rolled to one of the corners of the pit. He became cloaked in grime once more, the silt sticking to his sweaty body. He heard the hounds growling from the center of the ring, and knew that they would use his scent to pursue him. He heard the shaman chuckling and shouting to his followers, who cheered from the embankment. Josh clapped his hands again and the dust cloud became denser still as another gust of wind riled the sand.

"Settle!" The shaman commanded, using a native form of Fallieni magic. Suddenly the dust cloud shrank back to the floor of the pit. It revealed Breaker, caked in grit and standing over the bodies of all four hounds. Their snouts stuck out at sharp angles, their necks brutally broken.

"It's the Granite Phantom!" Darius cried, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. "No matter the challenge we set before him, he always succeeds! Granite Phantom!" He stomped his feet and clapped his hands, and the chant caught on. "Granite Phantom, Granite Phantom!"

Josh leaped over the corpses of the hounds and stalked toward the shaman. The muscular Fallieni whirled his stave and lunged forward, striking at Breaker's head. The Coronian swayed backwards, allowing the butt of the staff to pass within an inch of his nose. He swept forward like a striking snake, grabbing the shaman's shoulders and driving him back across the pit and into the dirt wall. Raucous cheers from above energized him as he slid a scarred forearm across the shaman's throat, slowly choking the life out of him. The shaman struck at Josh's exposed legs and body with his staff, but in the cramped quarters he could find no room to generate power.

"Part!" The shaman croaked a word of power, and the sand beneath Josh opened up, becoming an ensnaring mud pit. Breaker went limp and rolled away, narrowly avoiding being caught in the quicksand. He spun to his feet just in time to duck another swing from the shaman's staff, and absorb a follow up blow to the body. He caught the stave against his abdominal muscles and broke it with a sudden twist of his torso. His hand lashed out, striking the shaman full in the face with a flexed palm. The muscular man stumbled backwards and then fell, landing with a spell-lunk in his own pool of quicksand.

Josh raised his arms and turned in a slow circle. Cheers washed over him like the tears of angels. There were yells of Granite Phantom and Breaker, and a steadily rising chant of kill, kill, kill, kill! The crowd parted as the clan's chieftain Sulatam stepped forward. She looked down on the warriors, as still as a porcelain doll.

"You have bested my shaman in battle," she said, "and proven your innocence, and your good intentions, before Suravani and us all." She gestured around at her followers amid general mutters of agreement. "I ask only now that you spare my shaman. He is an important spiritual guide to us all, an integral part of the Deklans."

Josh looked down at the shaman, who struggled in vain against the clutches of the quicksand. A single stomp from his black metal boot would be enough to end the hateful man. Josh breathed in, and then out. Suravani is watching, he reminded himself. He bent down and grasped the shaman's hand and pulled him out of the mire.

[Breaker]

The fatigue finally caught up with Breaker as he climbed the rope ladder. His arms sagged as he reached the ground and he had to worm his body the rest of the way out. Many sun-darkened hands lifted him to his feet, some patting him on the back and shoulders. The Fallieni folk finally greeted him as one of their own, smiling and speaking too quickly for him to follow as he passed them by. The small satchel still swung around his neck, and he caught Darius pointing at it and whispering to a few women. It was a gift from Suravani, he'd told the young man.

"You fight with the strength of many men, Breaker of Corone," the chieftain said as he arrived before her. She looked up at the sand-encrusted warrior, one eyebrow raised, "or should I call you Granite Phantom?"

"You may call me what you please," Josh said, his head spinning slightly, "so long as you give me a place to lay down and sleep awhile." The chieftain nodded and signaled to one of her warriors, who led Josh back around the sandstone cliffs, to the very tent he'd rested in before the trial took place. Breaker thanked the warrior, stumbled through the tent flap, and collapsed on the pile of cushions. As the west wall of the tent glowed crimson with the day's dying light, the demigod fell into a deep sleep.

He awakened some hours later, in the cool of late night. He sat up, hearing little but the creak of the palm trees swaying in the breeze, and the odd snuffle from sleeping horses. The Deklans were dead to the world, most likely having feasted in his honor despite his absence. Soon they would be exploring a new continent, and deserved such celebrations. Breaker did not require such sustenance, so long as he had the love of his goddess.

Thinking of Am'aleh reminded him of the task she'd passed along in his dream on Hybrid Isle. He removed the satchel from around his neck and stripped away the canvas holding it shut. Within he found a small sealed jar, only the size of the ball of his thumb, and a rolled scrap of parchment. Even his eyes could not make out the writing in the shadowy tent, so he stood and stumbled out beneath the moonlight.

My dear Breaker, Sall'Ema's writing crossed the page boldly, I could not find all the things you would need to summon Suravani. I am sorry. Here instead is a vial meant for summoning a griffin, in case you are ever in need of flight. Pour its contents over any flame. Until we meet again, farewell.

Josh fell to his knees in the soft sand, stricken with grief. He had been so confident in Sall'Ema's concoction, so certain that he would succeed in both of his tasks. He crumpled the note in one fist, squeezing the vial lightly in his other hand. The ability to summon a griffin would do him little good, and yet he knew it would be unwise to waste such a gift. He placed the tiny jar in the back pocket of his pants, and then rose and paced toward the oasis pool.

Again he left his boots on the shore and stepped into the water with sand squishing between his toes. He waded out up to his waist and then crouched, scrubbing the dirt energetically from his bare chest, shoulders, and back. He scoured sand from the legs of his pants with his fingernails, and dipped his head beneath the surface briefly to rinse out his hair.

As he rose to his full height, droplets cascading down his brow and over his eyes, a figure rose from the water with him. It took the shape of a woman, a petite woman with long flowing hair. She looked up at him, her skin shimmering in the moonlight.

"Am'aleh?" He breathed, "no, it cannot be... this is not the sea..."

"No, it is not," the woman of water replied, and her pulsating shape solidified into that of a flesh-and-blood woman. She had flowing dark hair and darker eyes, tanned skin, though not so tanned as the Deklans, and long amber enameled fingernails. She pointed one at him and waggled it reproachfully.

"You dare to bathe in my oasis?"

[Breaker]

"Suravani?" Josh said, and the single word stole all of his breath. He felt empty before the goddess. He felt like he should kneel, or bow, but the water rising around his waist seemed to hold him in a smothering embrace.

"It is I," the goddess said, sounding almost bored. She steepled her short fingers, the long nails clicking together, and looked into his hazel eyes with her dark, penetrating stare. "Have you not sought an audience? There's no sense in denying it, I know that you have."

"I have," Josh admitted freely, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. Suddenly he felt the chill of night on his sodden skin. "But now that I meet you here... I find myself lost for words. Your beauty is as breathtaking as the stories say... I see the moon in your wide eyes, and your cheeks glow with her luster."

The goddess did not blush, but she deigned to smile. "Flattery is for mortals, Breaker. Tell me why you sought an audience before I grow bored and leave you alone."

"My patron, Am'aleh of the Sea, has asked that I entreat you to an alliance." The words suddenly flowed easily, like a river finding its path to the ocean. "She considers you a deity of great power and wisdom, and believes you both could stand to gain from such a relationship."

"And what is to be our... relationship?" Suravani asked. She waved one amber-enameled fingernail and the water around them pressed back, leaving them standing in an empty circle atop wet sand. She crossed the distance between them and pressed one long fingernail into the flesh of his chest, scraping a white line along the solid muscle. "I saw you pass my trial," she said, raising one eyebrow while her pupils drank him in. "You are... a most impressive stallion."

Breaker cleared his throat, fighting the urge to shiver at her touch. She smelled of power and desire. "My lady said to entreat you," he repeated, "she did not say how." He reached out a callused hand and cupped her chin, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear with a long finger. "I am to broker this alliance to the best of my abilities."

She leaned forward, lips opening softly as if for a kiss, but she stopped short. A small tremor rolled up her spine and blossomed from her lips in a musical laugh. She stroked his scarred, stubbled face with soft hands, and shook her head.

"I am not so easily swayed," she said, "I do find you... intriguing, but my interests lie in devotion everlasting... not in simple trysts."

"Speak plainly," Josh said, stroking the skin beneath her lower lip.

"I will allow you to take soldiers away from my oasis," she said kindly with a delicate nod, "that much you have earned in the realm of men. But if I am to align myself with your Am'aleh... I should want you to stay by my side. Here, in Fallien. As an ambassador, you may say."

"How am I to take your soldiers away, if I remain here?" He asked, running fingers through her silken hair.

She pressed her petite form against his front. "I should think a man who can conquer a griffin, outrun an oasis steed, and overcome a shaman in single combat, should be able to figure that out." She trailed her fingernails down his chest and let her hands rest lightly there.

Josh chuckled. "You are right," he said, and took a deep breath, "I will stay here with you for as long is it please the Mistress of the Moon."

"Good," she growled, digging her claws into his sun-darkened skin, "for I grow fond of you already."

[Breaker]

The portal opened in the same place it had winked shut a week earlier. Between a small patch of cacti and an uncanny rocky outcrop the air shimmered as moisture poured through from the woodlands near Underwood. The harsh Fallieni sun, still rising over the Zaileyah mountains, dispersed the cool air rapidly.

Two hundred riders stood next to two hundred horses in a long line that snaked around a large dune. They carried weapons on their hips and shoulders or in callused hands, and their saddlebags contained what little they needed to survive. Their tanned, tattooed faces looked at the pulsating portal with a combination of apprehension and anticipation. A clear rift divided the group in two, for half of their number had come from the Esseker clan. At Breaker's request Chieftain Sulatam had sent envoys to the Essekers, telling of his deeds and his wish to harness the strongest cavalry in all of Althanas. As he'd hoped, the Esseker chieftain had demanded the right to provide a number of soldiers equal to Deklans to accompany Breaker on his quest.

Darius the Swift stood next to Sandthorne at the head of the line, dark eyes glistening expectantly. He carried a scroll containing a letter in Josh's hand, addressed to his friend Phyr Sa'resh.

It would be easier for Josh not to step through the portal at all... and in any case, he had promised Suravani he would stay, not go and come back. Phyr would assemble the army and, if necessary, take Josh's spot in the Gisela. As much as he had looked forward to the tournament, the Gisela was a contest for mortals. Breaker had loftier goals in mind, and if staying in Fallien would please both Am'aleh and Suravani... then he would stay.

"Take good care of your riders," Josh told Darius. The Fallieni man gave a nod and smile and then took a deep breath and led Sandthorne through the portal. The line surged forward, with riders preceding their steeds. It must have taken a half hour for all of them to disappear, but Breaker felt as if he blinked and found himself alone in the desert, surrounded by boot and hoof prints. The wind tugged at the ends of his red belt and sand tumbled down the dunes. He had become habituated to the hot sun, although he still yearned for the darkness of night, when the moon smiled so bright. He could see her faintly in the clear blue sky, always watching him.

Breaker rolled his shoulders and walked toward the Zaileya Mountains. Suravani had whispered the name of a cavern to him the night they'd met at the oasis, a cavern that lay at the foot of the spiny range. The demigod strode energetically up the first dune. He could scarcely wait to taste Suravani's embrace.


~*~

Josh heard the cavern before he saw it. The rowdy sounds of men fighting and others cheering them on carried over the sunset-kissed dunes. He approached warily. It seems Suravani is true to her word. She does not desire a tryst... rather evidence of devotion everlasting. She wanted to see the same Breaker who had attracted Am'aleh so many years ago. The battered, bruised prizefighter who walked along the bottom of the ocean in his enchanted metal boots, only to meet the Patron of the Sea. The man who became more, who would journey across the ocean to please its mistress. The demigod who would pluck the moon out of the sky and hold her in his arms.

The Granite Phantom would fight again... in as many of Fallien's pits as proved necessary.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Judgment

Before we delve into the waffle, i'd like to say that I have had to somewhat condense my commentary from the original format, which well exceeded the length of any judgment I have done (even in a full judgment). If there are any parts of the story, character or prose you feel you need additional feedback on specifically, i'd be happy to discuss these with you in private.

Story: 20/30

This was a rather long read, weighing in at 19,800 words, but I felt the structure that you put in place for the thread more than adequately allowed the story to flow.

You opened with a scene that introduced Breaker and the purpose of his visit to Fallien, thus wasting little time in getting to the crux of the matter and immediately offering a boon to the reader to read on. I found larger elements of the story, such as the actual Trial of Suravani, were broken up by smaller but more intense scenes (such as the various meetings with Sall’Ema that had implications both later in the thread and also potentially in other future threads as well, what with her being pregnant) helped to balance rising and falling action nicely.

I was also impressed by the skill with which you weaved your tale. This was a unique storyline that incorporated and expanded upon Fallien lore well. Little nuances you introduced, such as the Deklan tribe’s own micro-culture and their rituals, served to enhance the experience further. Whilst reading I felt I was actually with the tribe as they prepared to send Breaker out on the trial, or on the back of the Griffin, soaring over the Glasslands and the dunes below. You really pulled me in and hooked me on the setting.

However, I felt this story was not without its faults.

I liked how you used the griffin as a device to traverse the harsh Fallien environment, but one thing that struck me as odd was the switch in tone Breaker adopted with the Griffin after their scuffle. He went from very demanding to casually discursive a bit quickly, detracting from the fever pitched pace of the griffin’s defeat. As this beast was somewhat central to the plot, I would have quite liked to have seen some resistance from the Griffin and their sudden friendship seemed out of place.

Darius’s line sums up my next criticism quite well: “No matter the challenge we set before him, he always succeeds!”. Whilst the story itself was good, I found myself predicting that Breaker wouldn’t really be tested by anything and, sadly, I felt I was right. It does seem that all too often things always seem to go Breaker’s way. For example, even when Sall’Ema mentioned she was unable to find the correct concoction to summon Suravani, she appeared without so much as an explanation as to why. He never really found himself in any sort of peril during the trial and when all was said and done it just seemed all a bit too easy for him. Over the course of a 19,800 word thread, I would expect him to be tested more than he was, and therefore I was disappointed when Suravani appeared anyway despite Sall’Ema’s failure.

But the highest compliment that I can pay for this is that you are, at your core, an imaginative writer who is able to take the reader to a place like Fallien and really make them experience it; not just read about it. Small criticisms aside, this was a good thread with lots of potential for future expansion.

Character: 23/30

Communication is one of the areas I believe you excelled in. You have a knack for writing both Breaker and your NPC’s well, which is more difficult than it looks in a thread like this where you are introducing and utilising so many different people from a culture like Fallien, and the way that they communicated made sense. The cultural quirks were captured well, although I did notice once or twice that Breaker’s speech patterns went slightly (and I mean slightly) off during dialogue. What you did have, for the most part, was solid and aided your tale greatly.

For the most part, your action was really good. Both your character and your NPC’s exhibited those quirks that I had seen in their dialogue. For example, I loved the way Breaker froze the oasis when the tribesmen were coming at him, resulting in half of the men trying to hack their way out and the others taking a different course of action. That little action just brought the scene to life, showing these NPC’s were all different in their thinking.

I’ve already touched upon this in my commentary above but the negatives revolve mostly around your characters' lack of development due always succeeding in his tasks. I appreciate it is difficult to write weaknesses into a demi-god, but there are ways and means of testing Breaker that could have made a good thread into a great one. Perhaps having something seal or weaken his powers in the Trial would have helped to add a little bit of suspense to the tale? Being able to summon water out of thin air and healing faster than the sun could burn were both within your approved powers, but it made the Trial somewhat of a formality for Breaker. It is something to think about going forward.

Persona was certainly a strength for your characters. I was able to get a good feel for who your NPC’s were, especially with the introduction of Sall’Ema. You write the Fallien people very well indeed; ensuring their words and actions are in keeping with the rich tribal culture you weave for us. Consistency is equally as important and throughout the thread I would say you did a great job on this front, ensuring that the niche tones and colourful characters remained that way for the duration of the thread. I think the only time I was really jarred was the confrontation with the Griffin, where I thought the beast might show a little disdain for Breaker or at least a grudging respect, but this was a small flaw in an otherwise excellent display of characterisation.

Prose: 26/30

This was perhaps the easiest part of the commentary to address thanks to the near faultlessness in your mechanics. I found precisely one spelling error, a typo and four grammatical issues that jarred me in a 19,800 word monster and even then I struggled to justify one of the sentence fragmentation issues that got flagged. One of your greatest strengths is your command and usage of the English language, so as is usually the case when I tackle such high-quality threads I am going to find it hard to give you any meaningful advice to improve this area. I will, of course, try.

Of the issues I did find, one was the issue of capitalization of the first word of a new line of dialogue. Co-incidentally, this was an issue that cropped up recently in another judgment and had established writers and judges deep in debate. The sentence in question was:


"I am glad you have decided to complete the ritual and venture to the Hybrid Isle. Few have the daring, the courage, and the faith to undergo such..."

Sall'Ema cleared her throat softly. The griffin did not appear to notice.

"... such a legendary feat.

It is my understanding that the word “such” should be capitalized in this instance.

Another issue I picked out was this:


He torqued his hips and drilled a shallow hole with his shoulders and slewed the griffin forward on its face.

This sentence suffered from a structural issue; a comma in the right place would have helped the flow of the read here.

The other grammatical issues included missing off a semi-colon and the odd structure of your penultimate paragraph, which I believe contains one or two fragmentation issues.

The spelling mistake in question is super nitpicky, and is “smouldered” instead of “smoldered”. Let’s be honest, though; we are clutching at straws there.

As for technique, there are far more positives than negatives. One issue I did find was that you tended to repeat or recycle words and phrases within a short read of each other when playing with imagery. “Calloused hands” and “bent like a Longbow” were two offenders that cropped up twice in quick succession (the space of two paragraphs). That said, the way you describe your surroundings and visualize the consequences of actions on Joshua’s senses impress me greatly. When reading, I like to be pulled into the story and made to feel as if I were Joshua himself, feeling the very same sensations the character is at that moment in time. You did not disappoint.

With regards to clarity, I only had one particular issue and that related to Suravani’s summoning (which I touched upon in story). There seemed to be no real explanation as to why Suravani appeared despite Sall’Ema’s failure to concoct the required material, so this puzzled me. However, this small issue aside, you have a gift for keeping the reader’s mind clear and focused. Well done!

Wildcard: 8/10

It is quite clear you poured your heart and soul into this thread. It was a thoroughly enjoyable look into Fallien life and a natural means of progression for Joshua Cronen. Thank you for allowing me to judge this. You owe me a new printer.

Total score: 78 / 100

Breaker receives 10,820 EXP and 625 GP! *

*Please note that rewards have been based on 40 posts, calculated on word count.

I am also nominating this thread for a Judge’s Choice award. Results will be announced in 30 days!

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

This thread has been awarded a Judge's Choice award! Congratulations!

Breaker earns an additional 500 EXP!