Fiery passion and Cold hearts (closed to Django)

[Jack Frost]

Slight mature themes



The sun was beginning to set on a warm summer day as Jack found himself wishing he had taken a different job. All around him the festivities of a midsummer solstice were about to begin. The small town was rather famous for it's all out celebration of the holiday, performers and acting troops would flock from all over the world to show up at this party. The otherwise unknown town of Brennoth would swell with travelers and revelers willing to make merry, the ultimate celebration. Jack Frost did not do parties. He was the type of man who rarely had something to celebrate, and when it was it was along the lines of not dying a painful death. A terrible way to start a toast really. Either way Jack's employer, a portly man who owned a traveling troop of actors, loved parties. The troop had traveled by boat for several days heading out of Salvar making for warmer water, and had found itself mooring off the coast of the small fishing villages in the most impressive and dangerous jumble of ships that seemed strewn about the coast carelessly.

Jack's job was simple. If someone was trying to sneak into the show he would scare them, if someone caused trouble he would beat them up. If someone picked a fight he was going to show them why he was known as the "Frozen Butcher of Salvar." It was an easy gig, aside from the parties. The whole festival would start in two days, but celebration had begun a week before, and would continue a week after. Some tents would hold more spirits than haunted catacombs, and by the end of the saturnalian celebration there would be nothing left but empty barrels and unborn children hitching a ride home in their unknowing mothers bellies.

As the troop set up and about pitching tents for shelter and to perform in Jack found himself a flagon of ale and began to establish a perimeter of the camp to patrol. The town itself was practically on the sands of the beach, but all around it was a lush field of green that now housed a makeshift tent sprawl that some would affectionately refer to as "The real Brennoth." Bards and whores alike flittered from tent to tent looking to make a bit of coin by pawning their "wares." As he walked he could hear the cacophony of countless bards all singing the same tired songs as the notes clashed and waged war for the right to be heard. Several men were already staggering around drunk as the searched for more ale. The cold sellsword's lips tightened into a frown at the sight. All of this celebration for a stupid season. It drove him mad. He took a sip at his sweet honeyed mead and continued to walk about.

Several whores in Raiaeren silks called to him from a tent as he passed "Hey Silver," one said referring to the color of the mans hair. "That jacket looks awfully hot in this heat, why don't you come in here and we'll take it off for you..." Jack snorted and shot an icy glare at them. "Perhaps if I was down five more cups of ale I might stoop so low as to indulge you..." he began as he grinned coldly. "But alas I am sober and you are ugly, and luckily for me a bit of coin can actually solve my problem where yours can only be masked." The whore he was addressing took to a look of utter indignation as Jack stormed off with his brew in hand. The woman called strings of insults after him but they fell on deaf ears as Jack walked away grinning from ear to ear.

He spent the better part of the day patrolling the area around his employers trope of actors getting a feel for the area. Whores, whores, and more whores seemed to be their neighbors. Bards could be found at every tent junction strumming instruments not worth their weight in copper as they sang silly songs of love and valor. Jack found his employer in a larger tent next to what could only be described as the king of all tents. The rotund man was currently in bed with three gorgeous blonde women when Jack walked in. Unphased he began to speak. "I can see you've met our neighbors lord Cromwell." Fog seemed to flow from Jack's lips as he spoke. "Unlike last year in which we were next to the ale tents, it appears that we only have to worry about your actors catching something in their free time if you catch my drift."

The women seemed startled by the frozen man's appearance, but lord Cromwell simply grinned and removed himself from one of the women and stood up. This time Jack flinched and averted his gaze while the mountain of flesh and fat adorned a robe or fine silk. "Wonderful work Jackyboy!" the man exclaimed in a high falsetto as he embraced the sellsword. "My goodness we've been here for hours and I've been having all the fun! Have you gotten something to eat?" Jack felt uncomfortable at the man's touch but did not complain. The man was worth ten times his weight in gold, and he weighed a lot and thus was prone to treat Jack to luxuries he was not used to as a sword for hire. The women stayed behind as the lord ushered Jack out of the tent "Come come you can't protect my life on an empty stomach!" he exclaimed as he whipped out a bag of coins and plopped it in Jack's hands. "Here's tonight's allowance for pleasurable expenditures my friend, go have a good time but stay sober enough to grip your sword but drunk enough to get that sword of yours gripped if you catch my drift"

With that the man was back to his lovemaking and Jack eyed the contents of his purse. "I could feed ten people with this coin..." he said grinning as he trudged off. Soon the performances would begin and Jack would be tied down in duties, might as well enjoy some food while he waited...

[Django Firemaw]

The sounds of a garrison of ringing voices pounded against Django's eardrums as the multitude of voices and the men or women they belonged to sat near enough for their voices to overlap but not far enough to be distinct. Funny thing was if all of them were not trying to do with their voices what warriors do with their swords against each other each and every one of their performances would have been lovely. He sighed the power of collaboration was strong, should they try to sing in a large chorus instead of competing against each other for the ears, more importantly the wallets, of the on goers they would be singing with enough beauty and power to make the earth tremble.

It didn't seem like most people would be able to tell of the earth trembling even if they did pool their efforts since so many were piss drunk they probably thought it was anyway.

He surveyed the area passing glances along with smiles with the performers as they met his glance afforded the most of a smile they could before continuing to sing. He had made acquaintance with most of the people that found themselves in the traveling group, being a part of it he damn well should have. He would not be in the company of complete strangers, it makes getting drunk a lot more awkward if the guy peeling you off the bar table isn't your friend. Thought that may not be the only reason he didn't want to feel alien it was certainly the reason he'd see most employed here. Drunkards, Bards, and whores, not the most lavish people to associate with but they certainly weren't bad people. At least Django didn't think they were. Everyone has their vices, he would not judge the merit of the person on that quality alone.

A short Gnomish woman draped in surprisingly more than most the women here were equipped with approached him. Leather jerkin draped across her torso, a blue eyed look as sharp as the rapier on her side, standing at no more than three feet tall to where Django had to touch his chest with chin to look her in the eye. A devious smile detailing the results of newest scheme. "Hey Junk food, whats your face, guess what I got us?" She said almost singing as hard with her words as the bards were. "It's Django. What did you cook up this time?" Django said with a smirk.

"I got us a payday, that what I did, Banjo." She said fingering at the string of a small coin purse, holding it up for him to see. "It's Django. How much?"

"Pfftt, as much as I'm willing to give you." She pulled her hand back with mocking sneer. "Or, as much as I could take from you." His grin began to show his teeth as he found the situation amusing. The slight tusks in his mouth becoming more prevalent the wider his smile grew. "Oh fucking try it, I'll turn your knees into a pin cushion" she retorted with a confident hand placed on her hip as emphasis. "Just give me my cut." He laughed.

"There ya go, Stank row. I'll bring back some more when the pockets around here get loose enough alright?" Departing after he words Django looked at the few pieces of currency in his hand before saying "It's Django!" He pouted, a shrug came soon after as he decided to take his newly acquired pay check to get some food from the performance area.

[Jack Frost]

The closest place to Jack's "camp" was a freakishly large tent that could house hundreds of people filled with long rectangular feast hall tables cramed as close together as possible. Most of the eating was over with, and the drinking was beggining, so the tables were mostly clear except for a few people eating as they drank and the odd sorts that had passed out in their drinks. After stepping over a few drunks Jack found a table sat down and waited. Tired looking barmaids scampered about carrying drinks and such to various patrons, and Jack flagged one down with a wave of his pale hand. She bounced up to him, long red hair flowing in the wind as she half ran half jogged. "How can I help you today sir?" she asked. Jack barely heard her voice, he was lost in memories.

Sweet blue eyes stare up at him, her lips curled into a smile "Lets get married Jack..." the words are music to his ears as he leans down and kisses her rosy lips. She is warm pressed up against him, the first time young Jack has ever felt that way. He loves her. The spell is broken and the swellsword jerks back into reality. "I'm sorry what?" He asks blinking a few times. The woman leans over his shoulder, her boobs pressing against his back "I said, how can I help you handsome?" she replied grinning coyly. Jack cleared his throat and pulls out his bag of coins pressing it into her hands. "A plate of pork, all the mead I can drink, and your name." he said smoothly. "Done, Done, and Katherine." The woman coos. Jack grins slightly as she walks away. "She even has her name..." he mused aloud.

She came back shortly with a large flagon of mead, a steaming plate of pork, and his change. "Keep it," he replied turning away her coin filled open hand. The woman's eyes lit up as she sat down next to him. "Thank you kindly Mr...?" she trailed off. "Frost, Jack Frost" the swordsman replied sipping his newly aquired drink. "Sounds like you hail from that...Eiski...place" the woman replied. "Eiskalt?" Jack asked. Katherine's blue eyes lit up "Tha's the one!" she exclaimed. "I'm actually from Salvar." he replied. "Get out!" she gasped. "You don't look like one of those church loonies" she said in a hushed voice. Jack leaned forward grinning "I'm not one of the church loonies" he said mischievously. An angry man glared at them from behind the bar and the woman frowned. "Shit my boss is mad at me now." she growled standing up. "Tell him if he has a problem to come talk to me." Jack replied coldly shooting daggers back at the man. "I'll be over by the performers three tent clusters down, come find me when you're done?" he asked. "Of course Mr. Frost!" she called back. Jack sighed and looked at his plate and began to eat.

[Django Firemaw]

Django entered the large tent with a familiar stroll as he was already aware of how to navigate the place. The setting around the tents while on the move may change but the way they set them up if they can help it is always the same. He could feel the warm air from the northern front of the tent waft to him from the entrance. The placement of kitchen was always deliberate to where the wind would be blowing, what better way to make people want to eat then by giving them an scent sample on their way in? He would not pretend to be some culinary wizard but it was a tactic even he as one who works with iron can appreciate.

Pats on the back were plentiful as he walked in. Not so much pats now, if they were more sober they would have been but most of his performing buddies were too shitfaced to be able to differentiate a borderline sexual awkward stroke of his back from a congratulatory strike on the back. He shivered a little as their breaths could likely be a flamethrower if someone put a match to their lips. The smell wavered through the air mixing with the pleasant smell of food causing it to become a confusing paradoxical sensation to the nose but he didn't mind. Everyone deserved a little time to have fun and returned their greetings with a pat on the back as well as a smile. Some of them fell over as Django's hand collided with their backs sending sprawling towards the nearest table only to be stopped by Django who would catch them moments before falling all over it. "Eh, we're here to celebrate bot have a funeral, don't break any spines there champ." One of the performers sober enough to speak said which brought uproarious laughter among his compatriots.

He'd nearly bumped into a bar maiden who seemed to be hurriedly rushing back with an order to who he could only assume was for the pale man slumped up against his seat. He apologized as he was taught to and took his seat parallel to the pale man who was exchanging words of promise with the bar maiden that he'd nearly knocked over. He couldn't help looking over as she yelled something about religious loonies and chuckled to himself. He leaned back against his chair spinning it on it's back legs as he stretched out. He'd been on his feet all day and he'd shove one up the ass of anyone you tried to make him stand up now. He pursed his lips as a mischievous thought crossed his mind. Before he could even refute it with better judgement he pulled out one of his Flash pellets and threw it at one of the far away tables where some drunkards lay in a inebriated sleep. He laughed as they all stood up in unison at the sound and sight of the pellet explode in front of them as they gibbered unintelligibly.

[Jack Frost]

Jack watched his table companion cause a bit of trouble and chuckled. The men seemed practically incoherent as they stumbled about. "Have I met you?" Jack asked between bites of food. "You look familiar..." he paused. "You came here with Lord Cromwell and his troop yes?"he asked as he forked another piece of tender pork into his mouth. He savored the sweet tastes of the meat and seasoning as they mixed together in his mouth. As he worked on his drink Katherine would come by with a pitcher of ale and fill Jack's drink. He wasn't sure exactly HOW much he tipped her, but probably enough to match her wages for a good amount of time.

Behind the two of them it seemed a couple was having an argument. "YOU BROUGHT A WHORE INTO OUR TENT!" the woman shouted. "Yeah, b'cause ye haven perfermed yer wifely dooties in years ya bitch" the man slurred back drunk. Jack snorted slightly at the poor mans misfortune. He wondered if he and his wife would have ever turned out like that. Suddenly he was gone back into his memories.

He holds her in his arms, she's shuddering, her skin pale and her face strained. She's bleeding from her chest, multiple stab-wounds ooze blood at the rags Jack has pressed against them. Her eye's are open wide with fear, she tries to speak but words won't come. 'I love you' she mouths wordlessly as she struggles against death. Jack barely see's her his vision is so blurred with tears. He's loosing her tonight he knows it. The pain is unbearable. He kisses her last breath away as she passes and rises. Uncontrollable hatred surging through his cold blood. Jack's free hand clenches the table tightly as a scowl flashes across his face for just a moment.

[Django Firemaw]

Django looked over at his well fed acquaintance with the beginnings of a wary face as he said that he seemed familiar. Their noble house was small but reputable for those who may have had any direct dealings with them. He was sincerely hoping this snow skinned stranger was not one of the people that would recognize him for such a thing.

He breathed a subdued sigh of relief as he spoke of Lord Cromwell and his affiliation with the man that would count as ten men through sheer mass alone. "Yes actually, I'm in a bit of a temporary contract. I make him money, he gives me money. And maybe tries to slip me some of his 'call girls' for my own recreation." He shudders. "I don't have the heart to tell him I have a hand and unlike his girls I wouldn't regret it in the morning." He speaks letting a chuckle part his lips after he finishes his sentence. It's not like all of Cromwell's girls were unattractive, a lot of them were, but he supposed his family ideal of saving oneself for when they were to be married off stayed with him. That and he didn't want to crotch to burn after the fact.

He craned his neck to look over at the sad display of the husband and wife from behind them all while leaning his chair back enough to get a good angle of the show. His table nearly fell over as he tried to look at the event unfold. He was less entertained about it than the other patrons seemed to be just somewhat unnerved. Could that have been him, stuck in an unsatisfactory relationship and resorting to courting women off the street if he'd followed his families arranged marriage? He wanted to believe he'd at least be speaking more legibly. "Ey, man that's a sad thing to see at a time of celebration." He said quickly stopping himself from falling over and speaking to Jack. "Hmm, you alright man? I don't think the tables on the menu." he said expressing how sudden his clenching on the table was.

[Jack Frost]

Jack snapped back to reality. "Shit I was...er lost for a moment." Jack replied looking up. "But yeah this is a time to celebrate for those with something to celebrate. I'm not much of a party man myself. Not much to celebrate in my line of work 'cept livin another day and eatin' another meal." Jack took a sip of his ale and thought to himself. "But so I thought you were one of Cromwell's people. I'm his hired help, call me Jack. Anyone tries to stab you, or you get stabbed, let me know and I can even up the score." Jack pondered for a moment. "I don't think I've caught your name?" he replied glancing around the tent. Several people had left to go dance or find a bard to sing a merry song, and soon it was just the two of them, some sleeping drunks, and some very tired barmaids cleaning up. The sun had already sunken under the horizon and several torches and campfires were going up. The real party was about to begin. Many people who had started early had passed out and were now waking up with hangovers they planned to drink away. Jack had been here before, most people found themselves in a state of almost perpetual drunkeness for the two weeks the celebration seemed to go on for.

"Speaking of Cromwell..." Jack said rising to his feet and dusted his pristene white leather jacket off, "I need to go hunt the man down and see where he want's me posted. He's about to start up his performaces." Slightly tipsy Jack began to walk away. On his way out Katherine ran up to him and whispered in his ear "Meet me by the bar in three hours..." into his ears. Jack grinned and nodded silently to her as she began to back away. "See you then" he called back. PErhaps it was wrong but she reminded him more and more of his dead wife, and perhaps she would remind him of her in bed as well. He could only find out...

[Django Firemaw]

Django's lips curled into a smile as the man revealed his name and occupation. His attitude was rather pleasant despite being a little tipsy. Django would have though alcohol would make anyone a pain to handle at some point but Jack seemed to know his shit. Both with a blade and with a bottle. "The name's Django. Nice to see Cromwell's hiring some decent help." Django let a chuckle escape him as Jack proclaimed his duty to protect him "I highly appreciate it friend but if the claymore on my back wasn't enough of a clue I'd say you have no reason to worry about me sustaining a wound I can't handle. I'll be sure to call you down if I find the need to cross swords for some good fun though." He sprayed his hand across Jack's back in a warm inviting manner.

A whisper from the side of the tent transcended the sea of inebriated groans "Django, get ready, we're gonna be up in a bit and we should rehearse for the festivities." The soft whisper came from the pristine face of a slim elf girl poking her head into the tent. Her face was the only part of her features that were not obscured by the curtain that was the tents sheets, she was clearly in a rush and was trying to make Django do the same. "Oh crap you're right. Damn I'll just get a snack for the road then, it was a pleasure Jack. I hope to see you around more." Django gave a small whistle and wink in Jack's directions when he saw Katherine approach him. He left him with that before going up to one of the remaining maidens who didn't seem to be too preoccupied cleaning up and ordered a small morsel.

[Jack Frost]

Jack strode through the well lit "streets" that had been formed with one hand on his purse and another on his blade. It was the time of night where things would start to get...rowdy. People were drunk enough to start feeling brave and loose with their fists...or worse, their blades. People were jolly and having a good time now, but all it would take was on little fight and the streets would be filled with a brawl. He found Lord Cromwell in his tent fussing over a woman's hair. "Oh darling I love you to death but your poor hair...it's a nightmare!" The mountain cooed as he brushed her hair. "I'm sorry Lord Cromwell..." the young woman sobbed looking equally defeated. "No tears Sasha, I promised your mother when I took you in that I would make you a star and here you are! The centerpiece of one of my performances!" The man exclaimed hitting a high falsetto. Jack cringed and cleared his throat. Lord Cromwell shot up and turned to Jack "Oh goodness Jackieboy!" the man exclaimed. "I was just meaning to send for you! I want you outside the performance tent keeping an eye on the riff raff ok? If there are any problems you'll be called for."

...

Jack found himself posted up by the entrance where people would drop off their coin with a lovely lady wearing a silk dress as they entered to see Lord Cromwell's various acts. It ranged anywhere from songs and dances to full on plays. The whole thing would be an interesting show, and those watching would be entertained for sure. However some people would gripe about the price and try the haggle the poor woman. That's when jack would step out of the shadows and glare at them hand on his sword. He was imposing, and in the dim light his glare almost felt like it caused the temperature to drop. As he sat there he could hear a variety of songs being played, this time in harmony. Cromwell's musicians were in a league of their own, it helped that he was very picky about who he hired.

Soon he heard the announcer in the tent "INTRODUUUUUUUUUUUCING D-D-D-DJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGOOOOOOOOOOOOO THE DAZZLER!" Curious Jack looked around and didn't see anyone near the tent and poked his head into the tent to observe his acquaintance's act.

[Django Firemaw]

The stage which was propped up for Django's performance was lowly lit, the curious mummers of the watchers served as ambiance to calm before the show. The light that did populate the stage the surrounding area was dimmed even further by the limiting of the moonlight that came in from strategic points where the tent unfurled to let light from outside in. The entire inside of the tent was blanketed in a still darkness that mimicked the now dying down sounds of the crowd.

A radiant star of light streamed across the center of the stage which was no longer clearly visible less someone in the crowds possessed the ability to see in the dark. The crowd reacted to the sudden streamers of crackling glow with a gasp so synchronized it sounded rehearsed. Another stream of light burst from it's epicenter this time coming towards the audience but stopping short and igniting in a secondary spray of varied colors. Seats were only occupied by their edges as the audience readied themselves for another flash. Instead they were greeted by a large man crouched on the railing that separated the actors and the performers. The only reason he visible was due to the patches of illuminated cloth that glowed constantly even amidst the darkness. "Did I startle you?" Django's voice rung out the audience in a singing tone. "Or was it more?"

He erected himself on the railing keeping steady with practiced ease and threw up a small cloth bag which was obliterated by one massive swing of his claymore which cause another explosion of colors to erupt much closer than the audience had yet to see.

A woman's yelp was heard from the crowd and she spoke "Who did that?" Django sat beside her with a grin only she was close enough to see. He held up guilty fingers as they'd now had knowledge of the curvature of the woman's ass "Sorry couldn't help myself." He said rather innocently. She raised her hand and brought it to his face offended by his act. As the sound of a slap ringed through the tent Django's form disappeared in another flash only to reappear a few moments later balancing on a tight rope. "Woah, someone gonna catch me? I think I'm gonna-" were the words that escaped his mouth before he fell, sung all the while, and his form crashed against the stage floor erupting in the biggest explosion yet.

The crowd was astonished, had the man really just perished? That grim thought was put to rest as Django appeared on top of the canopy of the stage unharmed. His performance carried on with the same sort of fakes outs interlaced with pleasant singing.

[Jack Frost]

Jack chuckled at the man's act as it went on. It was pleasant to watch and a nice change of pace. Django had something that Jack just couldn't put a word to. "Panache" he muttered to himself grinning. After about half of his act was over Jack stepped out of the tent to check on how things were going. Most of the bards had cleared out to greener, less drunk pastures to make their money in. This section of "The real Brennoth" was full of drunkards who had had their fill. Few people were roaming from tent to tent looking for some pocket of a party but it would be a matter of time before this section of "town" would be partied out and sleeping off their ale. Such was the way of the soltice festival, pockets of festivity operating on their own clock as they partied themselves into the ground. However something was off. Jack had a bad feeling in his gut.

"JACKYBOY!" the squeal came from nearby and suddenly the sellsword was alert. Swearing he took off in a sprint honing in on where he had heard his employer. He found the man in his tent knocked flat on his ass. "JACKYBOY IT'S HORRIBLE THEY TOOK..." the noble began to sob uncontrollably. "THEY TOOK SASHA!" The man managed to squeeze imbtween bouts of blubbering. "Who did?" Jack said as he kneeled by his employer and helped him up. "Some ruffians!" The man replied. "They heard us talking and barged in like barbarians and they saw my darling and snatched her away!" the nobleman snapped from sobbing to fury "THE HOOLIGANS PUSHED ME DOWN AND SNATCHED HER UP! THEY'RE GOING TO DO HORRIBLY OBSEEN THINGS TO HER!" he bellowed. Like what you did to those poor whores? Jack thought to himself. He helped the large man to his feet and growled. "Any idea which way they went?" he asked. "I think they said something about their ship the 'Draceliks'" Cromwell replied. Jack grinned, "Don't worry about a thing. I'll get Sasha back and bring you their heads" Jack swore turning on his heal and walking out of the tent.

[Django Firemaw]

The stage was chattering with life as small explosives went off in a spray of extravagant colors and shapes. Django was running around the stage, each of his steps equating to a large stride as he narrowly dodged each rigged explosive going off on his face with practiced ease thought he made it seem like he was narrowly avoiding them to add to the slapstick humor.

He fell onto his back, the dimming of all lights then the subsequent silencing of all the fireworks followed as his back collided with the ground and the laughs around the audience had begun to die enough for Django's voice to carry over the sea of people. "You've all been great. This was my greatest performance to date. None relaaaaaaaaaaate. Curtains close, your patronage, I appreciate!" He said to the crowd in one final limerick lyric and the stage fired off one last flare before bringing the lights back to reveal that Django was gone, as if her were never there. Uproarous cheers however validated his presence.
...

Django had circled round the tent so as to not run into any patrons of his show who wished to see more of his spectacle outside of his main event. Most of them might have been too smashed to realize a lot of it was choreographed which meant he couldn't, as much as he wished he could, teleport. Still the gracious feeling of having an entire crowd love a performance was a warm one, one that was almost its own reward. But until he learned how to keep himself fed and healthy off that feeling he sure as hell wasn't doing it for free.

He stopped before Cromwell's tent having overheard the dilemma of his employer. After all, it was rather hard not too, if most of the people from inside the tents ears were not still ringing from the multitude of explosions they would've heard it too. He stood outside the tent already having his proper gear out awaiting Jack's departure to go return Cromwell's prized dancer. "No need to recount the details to me, pretty sure the dogs in the other countries over heard him." He said taking hold of the hilt of his claymore so as to not need to exchange any more words to show his intention.

[Jack Frost]

Jack paused for a moment at Django's words. "Alright, means a little less work on my part. Follow me." The Frozen man didn't even break stride as Django caught up with him. "It appears they are holed up in some ship moored off the coast, I think I remember seeing it on our way in." he stepped over a drunk lying in the middle of the street and continued. "We're going to need a small boat that can navigate this ship infested waters carefully, one small move and we get crushed between two big ships and end up fish food." Jack turned a corner with Django and they were clear of the tents and in the actual town rather than a jumble of tents. The sounds of celebration were beginning to dull, most townspeople had learned to set up tents outside the town to avoid making a huge mess in their actual town.

The light of the torches began to fade and soon the only thing guiding their way was the light from the moon and the stars. The town was rather quiet except for the dull roar of the crowd as the celebration went on. Jack managed to guide the two to the shore were luckily people had just left their rowboats strewn in the sand in their haste to join the party. "Hop in and get cozy" Jack commanded as he began to push the boat into the water. He looked up just in time to see the moon reflect off the water and illuminate what he assumed to be his targets hoisting a woman onto a small sailboat, no bigger than forty feet in length. "Found em." Jack growled.

[Django Firemaw]

Django kept pace with Jack evenly walking side by side as though they were two moving adjacent mountains ready to crush anything foolish enough to trifle with them. Fortunately no one did, the walk into town was uneventful as the most they had encountered were some drunks too buzzed to move thus they were easily circumvented. "You really know your stuff, you been on this end of a lot of hostage situations?" He asked to fill the grave silence in between Jack's orders.

The night blanketed over the two harshly. So much so Django considered swiping off one of the torches that kept one of the porches of a residence in town well lit but decided against it. They were going to have to get on the water to approach a larger vessel, a torch on the moon kissed waters would only add as a target to archers on board. "Hmm, certainly short sighted men. They could have taken some of Cromwell's wealth while they were in the mans tent but instead they took only one girl?" He said as Jack pointed out the men already beginning to hoist their plundered target up alongside the vessel.

He hopped in the nearest boat that lay bobbing across the slow churning waters that beat against the shore line with noise not even remotely comparable to the sound of the festivities they'd just departed. He took an oar in hand and sat himself back to the horizon to look at Jack to urge him to get in. "I'll row. You make your way on the vessel first, I'll follow right behind you."

[Jack Frost]

Jack paused as Django rowed. "When you do the work I do you encounter this sorta thing more often than not. Most people tend to hire a sellsword when they have a grudge to deal with." He paused as the continued. "They were probably thinking with their dicks...too bad it's gonna cost them their dicks." They rowed silently after that until they reached the boat. The men had already begun to "celebrate" their catch. The young woman's screeches could be heard rather clearly, but it appeared that the men in their haste and drunkenness had left their rope ladder down. Jack scurried up and silently began to creep across the deck. This boat was small, at it's widest point it may have been about ten feet across.

There seemed to be a cut in pit where the wheel stood tied up with some light seating around it and a closed door to the crews quarters below that was still strewn open. Jack could see sillouets, and it seemed like the young woman was doing her best to resist her captors advances. One man was laughing as he poked his head out the door for fresh air. He didn't see Jack, or his mythral sword as it glittered in the moonlight parting his head from his body. Blood spurt everywhere and the man fell down into the deck alerting everyone that their fun had in fact come to an end. "Send the girl above deck and we might just leave it at you loosing one of your own." Jack spat.

[Django Firemaw]

"Hah, I'm not even in your line of profession yet here I am, I suppose confrontation regardless of creed is impossible." Django commented on Jack's statement, it was true that even though Django was a performer he'd been in his share of skirmishes while on travel. "Lets try an keep the body count low, I'd hate to spoil the night with too much bloodshed." Django waited for Jack to scale the side of the vessel before him. Should things go awry he would jump in but it would be nice to keep someone manning the small boat they'd come in on to make it back to shore quickly as well as dry.

The thud of a object against the wooden floors of the ship preceded by the sound of a blade slicing through flesh like butter made it to Django. He sighed "Guess this is my cue." He scaled the side of the small boat and was up besides Jack within moments. He looked down to now foot shorter man "Well it could have been worse, it could have been his dick." he whispered so as to not reveal their numbers to the no doubt superior number of arm drunkards downstairs. The very question shot up from underneath "How many of ya, ar ya!?" said the voice of yet another inebriated man.

[Jack Frost]

Jack chuckled at the man's question. "Enough to kill you easily, I counted about five of you climbing into the boat and now you're down one. Four men alone could not stand up against the Frozen Butcher of Salvar." he called down into the hold. "I'll give you about five minutes to debate your situation, if I so much as hear the woman cry out during this time your lives are forfeit." Jack grinned and began to clean the gore from his blade. He was not fond of negotiations like this, Lord Cromwell would not be pleased if the woman was injured. The man might even dock his pay, and that put Jack on edge. However he a name to uphold, something worth more to a sellword than gold itself. A reputation often meant people would hire you more often.

"Please do hurry along and make a decision or I might grow bored and kill you all anyways." Jack called down cruelly. Had these been professionals he would have an issue, but these men were no more than drunk sailors. He could handle these men with ease, but keeping the dancer they had abducted safe was another task. He would have to control every aspect of the fight. He grew more and more tense as the boat gently rocked with the tide.

[Django Firemaw]

"Don't scare them too much, they might soil themselves along with the floor of this vessel. Poor thing doesn't look like it needs more filth." Django jested at Jack's method of negotiation. Though it was effective, at least he felt it was. These men were not exactly battle ready especially not for the likes of the two who had just stomped onto their playground. "You would do well to hand over the girl. The ramifications would be slight if you did I assure you." Django took slow steps letting the massive creeks that erupted across the creaky wooden floors speak for his sheer mass. He knocked gently on the door then whispered to where they could here. "Bring her to the door, scurry away, you won't even have to show you face, that sound good?"

The decision sank down to the lower depths of the ship as the men grimaced to each others wiping the sweat of anxious brows and looking down at the fair skinned dancer they'd abducted. Her blouse was open but no fun had started and they seemed to be most upset about that, they didn't even have any fun before the men came busting down their door. Metaphorically of course, they wouldn't know what to do if they actually did.

After a few moments of silent contemplation a small knock came from the other side of the door followed by the sound hurried scurrying down the stairs. Django slowly opened the door to fine the girl propped up against the door. Django took her in hand with minimal effort cradling her softly in his hands. "Now go away!" Came a meek voice from the interior.

[Jack Frost]

The two guided the poor woman off of the fishing vessel and onto the rowboat waiting for them below. Jack had said nothing but left several ice spikes embedded in the door to scare any notions of revenge from the cowards that hid below with the corpse of a man they once called friend. It was ultimately their actions that had killed him, and they would have to live with that. As Django rowed their small boat back to the shore Jack chewed on his lip and scowled, it had been too easy. The woman however, was much more excited than someone who had almost been raped should have been. She was busy fawning over Django batting her sapphire eyes with him as her silver made spilled over her shoulders. Any work Cromwell had made to tame her long hair had been ruined as it hung at the small of her back.

The soft roar of the ocean beating on the shore seemed to lull Jack into a sense of calm, it was perhaps one of his favorite sounds. He continued onto the shore leaving the two alone. "Tell Cromwell that we had to kill the men," he grunted behind him leaving the two alone. "I need an ale and some shuteye." he called behind him and then left. He had no idea why he was suddenly so damn tired, but by gods he was going to unwind after that tease of a mission. Part of him had really wanted them to fight back, he wanted to flex his strength and slaughter them, but another part of him was glad that it hadn't come to that. This conflict in his head was starting to get under his skin and he needed it to either go away or find a distraction from it.

"Hey tiger" a familiar voice called out to him as a hand found his shoulder. Jack turned and found his icy gaze matched by a soft green one. "Katherine," he cooed as the ice in his gaze melted. "Tough night?" she asked pulling a rag out of her pocket and wiping some blood off of his cheek. "Let's just say I'm earning my coin from Cromwell," the mercenary sighed. "Poor man" Katherine said leaning up against him, completely unphased by the splatters of blood on his person. "Wanna go back to my tent and relax a bit?" she asked a grin playing across her face. Jack gently took her by the chin and guided her lips to his "Lead the way..." he replied grinning.

[Django Firemaw]

Django exchanged a warm smile with the woman who looked to Django with the appreciative eyes of a puppy who had just been rescued from the street, perhaps a bit of promiscuous intent mixed in as Django's natural good looks shone slightly within the veil of moonlight. "Would you still be willing for festivities when we return?" He asked hoping to stray her mind from her unfortunate abduction. She already seemed on the path of forgetting the event "I could, my dancing is not exclusive to Lord Cromwell. I could, show you." her voice took on a coy tone progressively as she spoke. Django laughed shallowly as he afforded a wink unbeknownst to her towards Jack. "I could show you my singing while we're at it. Perhaps a duet." She giggled at Django's earnest offer.

"I will, If Cromwell believes they're all gone he won't look to finish the rest of them. Rest well friend, come meet me in the morning if the hangover isn't too strong." Django waved towards Jack as he began to depart. The butcher snowman became a small dot in Django's vision as he walked further into town for a last drink along with a well deserved rest. At least that's what he believed he'd do, the other figure draped over Jack brought a grin to Django's face. He'll have another body to thaw him out tonight.

Django picked the sapphire eyed woman up gently, he closed the distance between where he stood in the boat and the shore in one long stride. "I'm quite capable of walking." she opined insisting Django let her walk on her own. Her resilience was something to be admired, Django certainly did. "You'll have to save all your energy for the dance you'll show me."

"Oh stop, I should ask you to stop talking to conserve your voice then" she chuckled before she brought her feet down against the coarse sand that shifted slightly against bare feet. "Actually as a matter a fact you have strong arms" she said hooking her arms back around Django's neck reluctant to feel the wet sand between her toes. "Hah! You have strong legs don't you?" he said making his own way into town with her in hand. Strange looks were scarce as the sight of a large man carrying the diminutive dancer was certainly not the weirdest thing they'd seen that day. "Hush, walk." She smiled up at him as brought her head against his chest, nuzzling into the sense of protection that radiated from Django. This far into town nothing would disturb them as long as Django was around, some may be drunk enough to think they could take him but the festivities still had no end in sight.

[Tobias Stalt]

Hail, friends!

At your request, I'll be your judge today. Be wary, you've chosen a Full Rubric judgment, so you're going to get the full intensity of my judging ability. Now, to business...

Story: The crux of your writing is the story you are conveying. In this thread, it's fairly straightforward. They meet, there's a conflict, and they resolve it. It's simple, but effective. What should be said is that even a short story like this can be elaborated on. There's not terribly much to be said for any one aspect; I did enjoy the use of whores (of course I did!), and especially the whole hostage scenario ordeal. That's not done often in fantasy (it's more of an action flick thing). It's refreshing to see people thinking on their feet and using simplicity to create depth. (6/10)

Setting: It's evident in you're writing that you both have a firm grasp on this. There are times throughout the thread when you depart from it to focus on the character or what's going on around them, but you seem to circle back to it. However, the setting is more of an afterthought to the story, rather than actively a part of it.

Try to think, if you're mentioning it, what effect does it have on your character. Is there a beautiful sunset you're looking at that makes your mouth drop open in awe? (Random example, but it works.) Bear in mind, not everything in the setting needs to effect your character, but something about it should be more pertinent than just making known that it's there. (6/10)

Pacing: There are posts that could have been longer, and ones that seemed to drag on a bit longer than necessary. Django, it seems that your writing is rushed sometimes, though it may be you're just used to shorter posts and less detail. Don't be afraid to spice things up. Especially when you're telling a story and trying to bounce back and forth with another writer.

With regard to the pace, you want to write things just right to tell the story. It's a difficult art. Sometimes, an entire post can be one long scene, and the next post might span several days, just to move things along. It really varies based on the thread, but keep at it and you'll pick it right up. (5/10)

Communication: Undoubtedly the best aspect of this thread, whether it was the conversation between the character and an NPC, or the two characters, it was both humorous and insightful about their respective characters. (7/10)

Action: PM me for specific feedback, but for the most part, this wasn't that bad. It could have been stronger, overall, but it's far from weak. (6/10)

Persona: Between you both, the characters have a distinct personality. This is a very good foundation for future writing. (Obviously, there is room for improvement overall, but you can PM me for specifics if necessary). (6/10)

Mechanics: I won't mince words here about grammar and spelling, before you finalize any submission, whether on Althanas or any other piece of writing, you should always go over your work with a spell check or second proof read. Specifically, instances like "obseen," which should be "obscene." However, it's one instance, and I won't be overly picky about it. (Still counts off, albeit only a hair.)

One thing I've noticed that a lot of people do, when they're writing a sentence that incorporates both narrative and dialog: you don't stop and break the sentences up by capitalizing the next word. It doesn't make a new sentence. For instance, *"No tears Sasha, I promised your mother when I took you in that I would make you a star and here you are! The centerpiece of one of my performances!" The man exclaimed hitting a high falsetto. In this instance, the exclamation point functions in utility like a comma, which ties the two clauses together. Thus, it should be written, The centerpiece of one of my performances!" the man exclaimed, hitting a high falsetto. (Yes, there should also be a comma after exclaimed.) What makes this interesting is that you do this properly, Jack, in the thread elsewhere. So it's definitely an oversight.

Django, sometimes your sentences become cluttered a bit with wordiness. You could stand to break some of them into two sentences, or even down scale the one sentence by tearing it down into a more basic form. Here, for instance: "The sounds of a garrison of ringing voices pounded against Django's eardrums as the multitude of voices and the men or women they belonged to sat near enough for their voices to overlap but not far enough to be distinct." This could be more easily written as, "The sounds of ringing voices from a garrison pounder against Django's eardrums. Men and women sat near enough that their voices overlapped, but not far enough for any to be distinct."

This area will quickly become less of an issue for you both as you write more on Althanas. You're already trending in the right direction with content and your character concepts. Continue to build your skill set and you're going to be writing JC quality threads in no time. (5/10)

Clarity: This area suffered the most out of the thread, due in part to the aforementioned clerical issues between both writers. Django's long and muddled sentences and Jack's few slips cause the reader to go over parts several times to grasp the final product, which is not ideal. There's not much here that hasn't been mentioned already, so I won't go on about it.

What I will say is that both of you have the foundation as writers to excel in this category with some conscious emphasis. Be sure to read what you're writing, and if you're not 100% sold on it, have someone else give it a glance over. If they tell you they're hazy on it, or that it doesn't make sense, go back and edit it. Keep it up until you're satisfied and certain you don't need the outside eye anymore. (4/10)

Technique: What we look for is literally literary technique. We want to see how well you use what you choose to employ. Jack, you apply subtle or small instances of alliteration throughout your work here. "Fog seemed to flow from Jack's lips..." is one excellent instance of this, because not only does it display an eclectic aspect of his character, but it also grasps the reader's attention to the sentence. One is more likely to retain what's said when someone has fog flowing from their lips. (See what I did there?) However, many of your other uses are weaker or could be bolstered with stronger diction. Be wary of being too plain when you write, but also remember not to drop five dollar words just because you can. There is a difference between the use of fine words and the fine use of words.

Django, your narrative is very relaxed and almost informal. While this doesn't necessarily reflect badly on the writing, it does detract from the structure a bit and therefore weaken the overall strength of what you're trying to convey. If you enjoy the less formal writing, I suggest taking chance on the first person perspective; when you're narrating outside your character, it can get choppy to throw in things like "Funny thing was if all of them were not trying to do with their voices what warriors do with their swords against each other each and every one of their performances would have been lovely," you're breaking the flow of the writing. You want as much as possible for what you write to be virtually steady throughout. (5/10)

Wildcard: For a first Full Rubric, this isn't half as bad as it could have been. Don't feel discouraged by scores; this thread did better by measure than half of the first submissions for feedback that have been done on Althanas. Take what I've given you and use it. (6/10)

Final Score: 56/100

Jack Frost gains 970 Exp and 120 Gold

Django Firemaw gains 830 Exp and 120 Gold

Congratulations!!

[Hysteria]

EXP and GP added.