Finding Nemo (open to 1 ~murder mystery~)

[Skie and Avery]

She was told this port was a place to lose herself in. If anyone had a past to lose, it was Skie dan Sabriel. The clash with her twin had left her less of a half demon than she had ever felt before. Now she was wingless to boot, all gift with illusion stripped from her innate talents. She'd taken haven in the arms of a Raiaeran expatriot in Concordia while she healed, but it hadn't felt right. She fled from him, from responsibility. Now she fled from self. She had her father's sword at her side, and as far as she was concerned, that was all she needed. She was willing now to forget everything, to leave it all behind, including her name. And so a broken woman left Corone and went not to Raiaera where she had always felt more connected, but to Alerar. She sought a famous fabricator, who crafted crossbows finer than the world had ever seen. However, in the right circles, he was known for a different craft. He could make people and histories out of thin air, or step by step remove them from this world. This is what Skie needed, she felt. She had the cash, she just needed to find the dwarf.

However, there was a kink in that plan.

She was in the right place. The swordswoman had come by wagon into the village just south of Nauplez, Dofir. It was relatively large, and she felt that it was a little disingenuous to call it a village. However, she could see where it was the perfect place for Nemo Anhak to hide. The wagon dropped her off at an inn on the outskirts of the small city and she'd stayed the night. Of course, because she'd heard of him as more of a rumor than a fact, she wasn't sure where to find him. However, she had his story and for all her luck dark elves were much like their Raiaeran kin. They were tidy. The next day she went looking for someone who might make crossbows. It didn't take her long to find an avenue of shops, and grouped together were the bowers. With a little asking after Anhak's crossbows, she was pointed to a shop that was larger and cleaner than some of the others she'd been. It was obvious that Nemo did well. Well enough to afford the tempered glass that took up most of his shopfront? Well, she was sure that between his two trades he had enough to buy off questions from tax collectors with keen eyes.

Making sure to pat the dust off the thighs of her trousers, Skie took a deep breath and slipped inside. The sun shining on the glass had kept her from seeing into the shop. Now she faced a small battalion of guards, standing around and making notes. Some were counting inventory. Others were looking at the blood that seem splattered everywhere. A gruff night elf in uniform pushed her back, out of the shop and into the street.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply.

"No one," Skie said quickly, her eyes darting between the sneer before her and the door she'd been unceremoniously dumped out of. "Just looking for a bow and was told that the best..."

"Have you bought a bow here before?" the guard interrupted her. She let her gaze be led from his sharp featured face and down to his uniform. There was a name embroidered on a pocket of his well tailored shirt but it was written in Aleran. She couldn't read it, and to escape the unnamed man's wrath she simply shook her head.

"First trip to Dofir, actually." she admitted, telling the truth.

For a long moment the guard simply stared at her with a black glare, then ran a hand through his short silver hair and waved her away. "Well, Anhak's been murdered so off you go." He left her after that, heading back into the shop while she stood uncertainly in the street. Slowly, she turned and started walking back to the inn. Soon her steps sped up and she began to run. It wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to her, but it certainly was upsetting. It was easier for her to ask for information in Corone. But now, in Alerar, she wasn't sure where to turn. Maybe dwarves were chattier when they were drunk, as people tended to be. Maybe they were just always drunk and she was out of luck. There had to be a way to disappear, but that was the tough thing - there wasn't a book in the library to tell you how to do it and it wasn't something she'd ever learned from her mother. Too bad Devon never had the chance to show her.

[Skie and Avery]

If you want something done, you gotta do it yourself.

It was something her mother had always said, what little Skie could remember of her. Now Skie stood in the lee of an alleyway, looking down the street at the gutted shop, and girded herself with the armor of practicality against her anxiety. She’d spend the day in her rooms worrying about the untimely death of the man she looked for, and if it had to do with her. Could her brother be behind the bloodshed? In the end, there was really only one thing she felt she could do. She would go to the shop and see if she could find the tools Nemo Anhak had used for forging documents. Surely it couldn’t be all that difficult. Then her new life with a new name and new history could begin in Alerar.

She waited in the shadows until the town guard passed by and around a corner and then fled across the street to the doorway of the shop. She had a lockpick at the ready, but was surprised to find she didn’t need it. The door pushed open easily. A guard must have been careless when they left, she thought. The way they’d reacted that morning gave her a feeling that Dofir was a sleepy enough city for its size, a place where big crime didn’t often spill from Nauplez.

Once in the room she used her hands to navigate through the lobby. The big windows wrapping around the front meant that she wouldn’t be able to light a candle to see by, else a guard or townsfolk might see her and all would be for nothing. Getting arrested for trespassing and looting wasn’t her idea of a good time. Now she just needed to figure out where the tools she needed were, and hope that the police presence hadn’t found them first. Ignoring the lobby, she moved around and headed up the stairs. As she stepped, they creaked softly, and Skie found herself holding her breath despite her solitude in the building. When she’d scaled the staircase she finally exhaled, pausing to give her racing heart a chance to calm down.

The upstairs was an open area with a small kitchen to one side and an area for sleep and leisure to the other. The shutters were pulled on the windows, fastened to the inside rather than the outside. She didn’t dare light a candle even now, not knowing if the light would leak through the shutter slats. However, she carefully opened the shutters, making sure to peek and ensure an empty street below before she opened them fully. Moonlight illuminated the room, pale and dim but just enough to see the furniture by.

There were two doors against the shortest wall, one a wash room and one a closet, she suspected. The desk by the bed had already been ransacked for evidence, it appeared. All the drawers save one were pulled out and thumbed through, piles of paper stacked neatly in each one. Skie moved over and looked at the papers. Most of them were blank, some appeared to be ledgers for the shop. It was too dim to look them over in detail. Instead, she turned her attention to the drawer that had yet to be opened. It had a lock on it. In the lock, jutting out of the eyehole, was the iron end of a simple lockpick. Who would try to pick a lock and leave behind their pick?

The small hairs on the back of Skie’s neck stood to attention. She wasn’t alone as she thought.

[Skie and Avery]

She clenched her hands, careful not to show their shake. As she licked her lips, she thought about the room and all the places someone might be hiding. Under the bed, or behind the two doors seemed the most likely. Maybe they had gone out the window, she thought with hope in her heart, but she knew they hadn’t. The window shutters were sealed from the inside and she’d opened them herself. It might have been the smartest thing she’d done, letting enough light in to see by. The doors were at her back and Skie let out a deep breath as she leaned forward and began to work the lockpick. Maybe she’d get lucky and the hidden watcher would stay hidden.

The locks slid into place and the drawer rolled open just as she heard the soft turn of the door handle and the closet behind her swung open. Launching to her feet, Skie pirouetted and pulled her sword to the ready as she faced the other intruder. The tall Drow guard stood there with a sneer across his face. His violet eyes seemed dark, even for the lighting, and he held a pistol in his hand.

“All the crossbows are downstairs. You might have gotten away with looting from the dead if you hadn’t gotten curious. That’s a human for you, right?” he said. His voice was as dark as coffee, and soft as velvet coated steel. Swathed in black, he looked and sounded more dangerous than the dutiful officer she’d spoken with that morning.

“Sorry,” Skie quipped. “Didn’t come for a crossbow. I lied.” She started to bring the steel longsword up, ready to defend herself but the Drow just shook his head and laughed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Too bad I’ll have to arrest you. It’ll make my own investigation more difficult, even though you did some of the work for me. I was never good with a pick, but too bad the drawer is empty.”

“Empty?” Skie swore quietly and tore her gaze from the elf to look in the drawer at her feet. It was filled with papers. So they were both a couple of liars. The man took the opportunity to strike. Before she could defend, her sword was flung to the ground and he’d shoved her up against the wall, one arm barred across her chest and the muzzle of the gun pressed to her temple. Skie had studied at the Citadel. She’d seen a firearm, though never touched one. Her eyes flew open, the pupils terrified pinpoints amongst the sea of blue. She didn’t dare struggle.

“Ka dos phuul aluin ulu tlu zanabiku, dos ssrig'luin ulu tlu yutri.” He said, his voice a whisper. He was so close she could feel the heat of his breath. Her own was caught in her throat, her heart pounding thunderously in her ears. She almost didn’t hear the fine nuances of the Alerian tongue. “It’s what we tell the children here,” he explained. “If you’re going to be sneaky, you need to be smart.”

“My mistake,” she said, working hard to keep herself calm despite the instant death that was pressed against her face.

“I’m going to have to arrest you now, rivvil. I knew you were trouble the moment I saw you.”

[Skie and Avery]

When he’d shackled her arms behind her back, the Drow shoved Skie against Nemo Anhak’s bed. He picked up her sword and went to work going through the drawer she’d unwittingly unlocked for him. The smell of the dwarf was strong on his sheets, and she felt she was going to choke on the smell of cool linen and night sweats if he left her here this long. The frame of the bed pressed into her knees in a way that ached but when she shifted to try and get more comfortable, she saw her captor raise his pistol once more and she stilled.

“Hurry,” she demanded, her voice a hard bark. “These sheets stink.”

“You should have thought about that before your life of crime,” he shot back, stuffing papers in a bag before he stood. His long legs closed the gap between the two of them and he pulled on the shackles to stand the woman up. The iron bit into her wrists and she yelped as she was jerked away from the bed.

“Look, you don’t know a damn thing about me.” She hissed, half from the pain and half from frustration. Had she really done anything wrong? Well, trespassing was illegal, she reminded herself. Instead of answering her, the man starting pulling roughly at her belt. Fury began to bubble up in her chest, hot and immediate until he removed the sheath of her sword and cinched the belt once more. Her lips pressed tightly together, watching him care for her sword with a frown. She’d pegged him for a dirty cop, here after hours for his own benefit. Maybe he was, but he moved with a sense of strained justice that said otherwise.

“Are you going to tell me a name, officer?” she asked. “I should know who is arresting me, right?” He shoved her to the door with a grunt, the satchel of papers he’d collected and her sword in his free hand. “Maybe what I’m being charged with?”

“I don’t owe you anything, least of all the time of day.” He answered. When they reached the stairs she half expected to be shoved down them, but he guided her slowly. She was grateful, though the gentleness he showed ended when they reached the lobby. Before he opened the door to push her onto the dark street, he sighed. “The door was unlocked. I can only really charge you with trespassing, so that’s what I’m doing until I can figure out exactly what’s going on here. Ouss’ervsth is my family name.” As he escorted her along, nodding to the guards and citizens they passed, Skie looked back over her shoulder. His plum eyes were staring ahead, though she had a feeling he was further in his own head than not. His silver locks were shorn short for a Drow, at least compared to the ones that she’d seen.

“Drow family names all mean something, right?” His eyes immediately returned to her, boring a hole with the heat of his annoyance. “What does Ouss’ervsth mean?”

“You talk too much,” he said, pulling her back sharply so that she was closer to him. Skie nearly stumbled, but a hand holding too tightly to her forearm kept her up. With a sigh she turned her attention to their walk through town, and they made their way to the jail in silence.

[Skie and Avery]

She rested her arms on the crosswise support of the cell bars, watching Ouss’ervsth carefully. She hadn’t been locked up for an hour, but she’d learned that he was the captain of the guard, well liked, and it surprised no one that he investigated out of uniform and after hours. He’d said nothing of lock picks, and no one asked him. Being captain had it’s freedoms, she supposed, but as he filled out the paperwork and carefully inventoried the documents he’d taken from the drawer, she guessed most of his work was less exciting than midnight encounters in a dead man’s bedroom.

“What are you staring at?” he asked, not looking up from the papers. Finally he set his quill down and shuffled the parchment before him, setting it in one pile. He pulled a ledger from another pile and opened it to a place marked with a length of silk ribbon. Skie didn’t answer, and she couldn’t make out what the book said without straining her eyes so she relaxed, laying her head against the bars.

“If you want out fast, you’ll answer me honestly,” Ouss’versth said finally, holding his quill ready. “Name?” When Skie didn’t answer again, he turned his attention on her and glared at her so menacingly she was sure he would bore a hole in her forehead. Her lips were pursed. Hadn’t that been why she came to Alerar? To get away from her name, to turn her attention so fully to some new goal that she forgot the rest of her life as well? She licked her lips. She’d only decided on her new name not long ago, this was the first time she’d said it out loud.

“Sariya Surulinath.”

He stared at her for a few moments, then turned back to to ledger, tidily writing what she’d said. “No one is going to believe that is your real name.” he muttered. Skie prickled, wrenching her mouth into a frown.

“I don’t need anyone to believe it. That’s my name.”

“Yeah, okay, don’t get too excited, you’re too much like a feher.” He paused over the next line of the ledger and put down his quill, turning towards her. He lounged in the chair, one leg crossed over the other and drew his fingers through his hair while he watched her. “You didn’t go to steal, you said. You didn’t go to murder, you said. What do you want in Dofir?”

“Papers,” Skie said truthfully. There was no need to lie now. There was no way she’d be able to go back to Anhak’s apartment and she didn’t know where to turn for the services of another forger. At least, not in this town. “Corone lost its appeal. I aim to start over in Ettermire.”

“Nemo Anhak was going to be charged for his under the table business soon,” the Drow said sternly. “You helped me get the last evidence I needed against him and some of his less savory associates. So how about you? Do I need to extradite you back to Corone for the authorities there?”

“No,” Skie said, shaking her head. “I’m not on the run from the law. I’ve got a brother who isn’t very nice.”

“A new life in Ettermire doesn’t require papers if you’re not a wanted person. Even without changing your name, it’s easy to get lost.” he said. He had a point, but Skie was resolute.

“My name wouldn’t be as welcome in Ettermire as anonymity would be.” she said, a small smile twitching at her lips. “And I know some of how you work. Humans are dogs compared to the fairer races. The thing about dogs is that when they come with papers, everything’s better. Your home, your food, your treatment…”

“You make a lot of assumptions,” he sneered.

“You won’t even tell me your first name or give me any real idea about how long I’m going to be in jail or my charges.” Her accusation seemed to prod at him, and he sighed, turning back to continue to fill out his ledger. After a few minutes Skie pulled away from the bars of her cell and went to sit on the row of hay bales that seemed to function as chair or bed. She was alone in the box, left to stare up at the night sky through the one window in the room - a window that was across the room and not inside any of the cells. The dark of the sky outside seemed to creep in as the light of the torches in the room flickered on the wall. Finally, the captain stood and came to the cell.

“You’ll be in here until Radasanth confirms that you’re not a criminal.” he said.

“What?” she said, jumping up, her jaw open incredulously. “That could be weeks!”

“Months,” he said, “unless you give me your real name.”

[Skie and Avery]

She wet her lips again, looking around. There weren’t many guards around, and she was the lone prisoner of her cell, but she didn’t feel comfortable telling her name out loud even then. Her father was unwelcome amongst some in Alerar. Even if names like Devon and Thoracis had faded from the mind of the people, purged by time and the brightness of newer events, it could be dangerous to admit her lineage. Still, she met Ouss’ervsth’s eyes. His silver brow cocked with impatience.

“Come closer,” she beckoned. “I’ll whisper it to you.”

The Drow laughed and waved her request off with his hand. “And here I thought you weren’t infamous. Why the secrecy if you aren’t a criminal? I don’t trust you, so if you don’t want to be my guest for so long, you’re just going to have to tell me.”

Skie sighed, leaning back against the cool stone wall behind her and dug her fingers into the hay she sat on. Her eyes were hot with frustrated tears but she refused to let them fall. If she did, she’d feel even more powerless than she felt now. Rising to her feet, she came to the bars.

“Well then,” she said, keeping her voice as quiet and calm as she could, “Tell me your name, your given name. Drow family names are too cold, and I want to know the name of the man who got me killed.” His eyes barely widened in surprise, but despite his puzzlement he seemed swayed.

“Put your hands out, over the crossbar.” he instructed, and she did. Faster than she could guess, the Drow had grabbed her by the elbows and pulled them out and up, sliding his hands along her forearms until he held her wrists captive outside the bars, her body pulled close. Their noses almost touched through the bars, and Skie gasped with the pain of her bone pressed too hard against steel bars and the surprise of being lifted off her feet. He hadn’t looked especially burly for an elf, but his strength couldn’t be denied. For a moment, the icy touch of fear put chills down her spine.

“All of Alerar will get you killed if you’re so slow and so afraid of pain.” he whispered. So close, Skie felt like she was a rabbit in a den of wolves. For whatever part of her was still a demon, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

“Forgive a girl a lifetime not spent trying to be deadly.” she said, carefully relaxing her face so that she at least wasn’t wincing.

“Never.” When she didn’t smile at his joke, he finally gave her what she’d asked for. “Malagaste. It means ‘Secret Keeper’ if you’re wondering.”

“Malagaste Ouss’ervsth,” she said, tasting the name. She’d never be able to say it as prettily as he did, as any Drow would. “I’m not trying to bring trouble to your town, and I’m not trying to be a criminal. I’m just looking for some freedom. My name is Skie dan Sabriel.”

He dropped her wrists and stepped back, and she clung to the bars as her feet hit the floor again. Like the Drow were known to do, his face was a mask of apathy, but somehow the way his brows tightened over his eyes she knew that he knew something. Maybe her father’s name, maybe her own. She had done some small work for Raiaera in the Corpse War, after all. Either way, any recognition in Alerar was more than likely going to be bad. His name meant Secret Keeper. Could she trust him to keep her own secret or to at least know why she’d taken a new name? He turned away and grabbed the torch closest to her cell. Without turning to look at her, he said, “I will have more information on your charges tomorrow, Sariya Surulinath.”

He and the torch trailed away, leaving Skie in darkness to find comfort on the cold bale of hay.

[Skie and Avery]

Morning had visited before sleep ever did. The light crawled through the window on the other side of the room, light and piercing. The torches had been replaced three times while she waited, though now that daylight had broken in only half of them were reset now. Black burn marks were all that were left of the braziers left empty, and Skie stared at one now. Her eyes found patterns and pictures in the swirl of black and brick. She almost didn’t hear the lock slide and clank, the tumblrs to the cell slamming open.

Malagaste stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. He hadn’t been gone long enough for much sleep but he looked as if he had been doing nothing the day before but resting. His lilac eyes were bright, his uniform impeccable. He looked better dressed for his station, Skie decided. The dark comfortable clothes from the night before were too informal for this man. As she rose from the block, she bowed her head with a tired smile.

“Captain Ouss’ervsth,” she greeted. She was rewarded with a soft scoff, and the Drow stepped back to give her a wide berth out of cell. Her brows rose in surprise. “Free already?”

“Your effects are up front. Your weapon, and your papers.”

“Papers?” she asked, pausing as she passed him.

“Yes, you’ll find all you need to establish yourself in Ettermire. Work history, references, lineage. I suspect it won’t be hard to find a comfortable living, Miss Surulinath.” She thought for a moment she saw a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, softening the sharpness of his face. “Of course,” he added, “I’m still waiting to hear back from Radasanth. Hopefully I won’t hear anything unsavory. Leaving a paper trail for yourself as you seem so determined to do will only make it easier for me to find you.”

Skie watched his face, but Malagaste gave nothing away. With the packet he’d packed for her, she was soon back at her room in the inn. Daylight was streaming through the curtains now, laying stripes of brightness across the old quilt on the mattress. She had the paperwork spread out before her, examining every careful quill-stroke. The Drow had been careful and thorough, and had given her a history as a trauma medic. Skie smiled at that. She’d certainly seen enough gore and blood in her life to qualify. Finally she packed everything away again except for a small booklet.

Included in everything had been a primer on Alerian, mostly a compendium of handy phrases. She wondered if this were the sort of thing he made often. It was well organized, and filled out in the same tidy script that her papers had been filled out in. Despite the attention to detail, the easy way it seemed laid out, something told her she was holding a highly limited edition. With a smile she stood and began working to further clean up the room and the traces that she’d been there. She’d make good on her promise, and be Ettermire-bound before nightfall.

[Skie and Avery]

Ettermire was different than home, but Skie felt that she might eventually grow to be comfortable here. The expo was a lot like the Bazaar, an open air event with hundreds of bright tarps covering areas so that tech could be demonstrated and seen, shaded from the harsh heat and shine of the midday sun. She’d mainly looked at guns, remembering the way that Malagaste’s threat of shooting her had cowed her so well into submission before her arrest. The price point and the fact that they seemed exotic even to the crowd of dark elves and dwarves around her made her wonder how a simple city policeman could have one. Was he from a prominent family? The wonder of what Ouss’ervsth could mean still came to mind from time to time.

Her apartment was by the Glaith, one of a dozen buildings like that pressed against the edge of the mighty river. Crossing the bridge that took her to the residential section, she glanced up at the blue-painted terracotta building, iron banisters gleaming in the sun from the balconies. She could see her own, the clothesline that held a few shirts and her work uniform to dry in the sun. Her door was painted a sunny yellow, and once she got in she raised the shades and opened the windows to let in the temperate breeze. Once she removed her boots, she stood in her home, looking around.

“F’sarn delmah!” she called, announcing herself to an empty room.

It was nothing like the bare hotels or the more natural woody home she’d had in Concordia. Plants hung in the windowsill, herbs for healing and cooking adding a bright green to the whitewashed clay interior. The kitchen was the room the doorway opened into, a heavy oak table bare but for two empty coffee cups. One was hers, one had been Seth Dahlios’. She paused as she collected them and placed them in the sink. Hadn’t she promised she’d stay out of trouble back in Dofir? The cups felt like a representation of her lie. She hadn’t been up to any trouble yet, but she’d come to Corone after a drunken night with a bunch of thieves and she hadn’t exactly cleaved them from her life.

Flirting with trouble was standing at the edge of a very slick slope, she told herself, but flirting was half the fun and she’d always had good balance. As she washed and dried the dishes she left waiting for herself, a rattle outside told her the mail had come. She hadn’t gotten many letters since she’d moved to Ettermire. After all, who would need to write to Sariya Surulinath? Most of the people who knew her by that name she saw throughout the week. She’d gotten some correspondence from immigration, but it would be years before she could apply to be an Alerian citizen.

It could be a trap. she thought. Her hands paused, the knuckles growing pale as she clutched the drying rag more tightly. She took a deep breath. It’s not a trap. she told herself. She’d been flirting with trouble, but hadn’t gotten her hands dirty. There were only two people in Alerar who really knew who she was, and she couldn’t imagine either of them betraying her.

You don’t even know them. The thought was like a clap of lightning, loud and flashy and demanding of all her attention. It was true. Her closest friend was mostly a stranger, and she didn’t exactly expect or desire that to change. The lesson of the Starslayer curse was that people were best kept at arm’s length. She wondered if it was the same one taught to her father, and why the world hadn’t seen him in years. She used the windows to glance outside at the quiet street, the dark windows. The only movement was the swaying of curtains from the breeze, and the only sound the laughter of children playing down by the river. It all seemed normal, but Skie still took care to have her sword at her side to check the mail.

[Skie and Avery]

The package fit neatly into the mailbox mounted outside her door. Just as she thought, no letters snuggled in with it. It was small, a thin box much longer than it was wide. The address had been written on it with a flowing script, almost too fancy to read. The looping handwriting was foreign and when she brought it inside, locking the front door behind her, she sat at the table for a long time just looking at it. Her fingers traced the waves and whorls in the wood-grain of the oak and finally she stood to find a letter opener in the back room beside her bed.

With the twine cut away, she pulled off the wrapping, careful to fold it neatly in case she needed to preserve the writing. Within was a simple black box that opened on a hinge. It was lined with padded silk, and a thin golden chain holding an arrow pendant lay inside. It was simple and delicate, pretty in an understated way. Skie’s indigo eyes immediately narrowed, her brow furrowed. As pretty as the jewelry was, there was no one who should be sending her something like this. From beneath the silk a slip of paper poked a bare corner out and the woman retrieved it. It simply read, “An Admirer,” in script that seemed similar but far less fancy than that scrolled across the outside.

She immediately went to her mental checklist of people who knew her. It had thinned in recent years, with old friends, lovers, and antagonists drifting away like dandelion seeds on the wind. There were few left she could see doing this. Malagaste the elf had no motive, and despite an uneasy friendship rekindled from the scraps of a brief and tumultuous past, neither did Seth. The lover she’d left in Concordia, Castien, could not track her to this life. Neither could her brother. She lined up the people she worked with, and while she was still learning much of Alerian culture, they were all equally unlikely. It truly came down to the two men who knew of her life here.

She pulled the parchment back and studied it again. After a moment, she got up and moved into the bathroom. Above the washbasin a large mirror hung. Once the necklace hung against her skin, the warm gold an attractive choice with her complexion, Skie studied herself. Who would have sent it? An Admirer? She wasn’t sure she even knew what it meant, after all. Finally, she met her own eyes, and tried to relax the frown, unclenching her teeth.

“Obviously you weren’t meant for romance and intrigue,” she sighed at her reflection. There was too much anxiety in the golden bauble. Finally, she had a plan. She would wear the necklace to see if one of the new friends and acquaintances she had in the city would say something. She’d ask Seth when she saw him. If no answers were forthcoming, she would send a thank you note to Malagaste.

With a nod, she moved to leave the room but took one last look back at herself. Did she hope the Drow had sent it? Not truly sure of her own feelings, she found herself watching the silhouette of her body in the mirror. A tiny seed of hope had sprang to life but she mentally squashed it. There was one option on her list she hadn’t thought to entertain, and one that she didn’t want to hope for now.

Besides, she told herself, an arrow wouldn’t fit. Fretfully, she realized that it wouldn’t really fit for anyone she knew.

[Skie and Avery]

Another rattle came from the box outside, startling her. Did the mail run by twice? Suddenly she wasn’t sure that the courier had been the one to bring the package, or wouldn’t be the one to be standing outside. She moved to her window, peering out again. Straining to see to the side, her stoop appeared empty, the street just as devoid of life. Opening the door and stepping out, she nearly tripped over a box. It was the size of breadbox, and the same flowing script spelled her name but not her address along the packaging. For a moment her heart stilled in her chest, refusing to beat.

Taking up the knife again, she once more cut open the box. The moment she lifted open the top, a plume of stench billowed at her. Covering her face and ducking away as she coughed, Skie looked with horror into the box. It had been some time since she’d seen an arm having been in the state of decay for weeks. It was a dark shade of ruddy brown, though she could see a tattoo on the top of the hand. It looked vaguely like the sigil on Nemo Anhak’s shop sign, bloated and bubbled. Another note was in the box with the hand and bit of arm, sewn to the inside of the box so that it would not touch the macabre gift.

Skie ripped it off and slammed the top of the box back down before moving to the balcony. Shoving open the door she fled to the iron railing, letting it support her as she gulped lungfuls of fresh air. Her perfect home was ruined, now. Still the streets, bridge, and river below her were empty. Even now she couldn’t hear the children that had been out there only half an hour before. There was no clue as to why or who had sent the limb.

No, that wasn’t true. They’d also sent the necklace.

Dos sila've l'dwen'del ulu ukt aphyon, Skie dan Sabriel. Dos orn ulnin thalra dosst ehmtu xuz. Nauxahuu ussta belbolil, lu'jal dos ssinssrigg orn rei xuil dos.

You will soon end, the letter warned. You ended the dwarf. Don’t refuse my gifts, or all you care for will fall.
After her hands stopped shaking and her lungs had cleared, she took a deep breath, held it and went back inside to deal with the second ‘gift’ she’d been sent. She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to get her hands dirty in Alerar, but it wasn’t so easy as finding Nemo to disappear. She had to do some erasing of her own.

[Philomel]

Thread Title: Finding Nemo (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?29128-Finding-Nemo-%28open-to-1-murder-mystery-%29&p=248354#post248354)
Judgment Type: Full Rubric
Participants: Skie and Avery



Plot: 21/30

Story- 7/10

Overall I found your story rewarding to read and exciting. It started well, and seeing as I judged Brotherly Love it was great to see how the story continued. You opened with reference to the earlier stories, but not in a way that drowned the reader with the need to know everything. It was well written, well timed and paced and had a clear beginning, middle and end, with a cliffhanger to open onto the next adventure. The only thing that was really missing perhaps was that it could have been longer, there could have ben some more tension or more example as to the reasoning why the drow helped her. Perhaps think about these points next time - however, on the whole, excellent points here.

Setting- 7/10

Setting is a strong point of yours. It was set out nicely with a powerful description in post one, and you dressed each scene well, from the room of Nemo to the prison cell. One could imagine themselves being there. Small details, however, were somewhat lacking - for instance you could have mentioned lighting with how it changed from the nighttime to a low flickering of candles in the cell etc, and it would have been good to use some different senses. What was really good was your use of placenames, which portrayed a knowledge of the land that only a narrator would know, giving the reader a sense of the language of the place. A way to move on from here would be to begin to look at small details, to focus on the shape of bricks, the movements of birds across the sky, to focus in on the particular and this may help to move your setting on to the next stage.

Pacing- 7/10

Pacing was more or less done excellently. There was no jumping from one sudden scene to another. The pace definitely changed when moving from the house of Nemo to the cell itself, going from fast to slow, but this tied in neatly with the rise and then fall of tension. It was neat and tied well at the end. The only improvement that could have been done here was perhaps a longer pause at the last post, where Sabriel gets to know her new life - it seemed to rush too fast into the parcels slightly. Overall, though, well paced.



Character: 21/30

Communication- 7/10

What really was strong about this thread was your use of the drow language. From the simple derogatory use of “drivil” to long sentences such as “ka dos phuul…” both in post 3 you strike home a certain reality for your character. And those around her. What I would encourage is more use of translation, which you do touch on a couple of times, but maybe a focus on commentary of it would help, especially in terms of Persona. Other than use of native tongue, you have a good grasp of Skie’s way of talking, and there is a definite note of past aristocracy, or at the very least a degree of pride. There is hurt as well, as most of her phrases are meaningful and powerful, she wastes little time in random conversation. Overall one of the best sections of your writing. Well done!

Action-8/10

Action in this was done well and precise. You have small details, such as Skie leaning on the “crosswise support” of the cell in post 5, giving small hints to her state of mind at the time, which help in powerfully portraying your character. Being distracted in post 3 helps make your character very real to appearance. Fighting is even very well done here. Really I cannot make much fault, except perhaps to also convey the same attention to detail to your other main characters as you give to Skie, such as Malgaste.

Persona- 6/10

Persona was your weakest part of Character, but that is not to say it is terrible. You do identify personal thought to the reader, such as the beginning of post 2 and in post 3, and this is in itself a good beginning. Overall, however, there seemed to be more of a stream of a story about the action and the narration rather than a journey of Skie’s. One wanted to know more about her brother, and what she was precisely doing in Dofir, and what her intentions were. This judge knew what the story behind it was, but for an unknowledgeable reader it helps to give them a small sense of Skie’s character, such as her minor habitual actions or her reactions to things. You do touch on this, but I would encourage more.



Prose: 20/30

Mechanics- 7/10

Mechanics pretty much is sweet and neat. There were no obvious spelling mistakes, which in itself is what a judge wants to see, and the sentences were all properly formed. Paragraphing, too, was done well, and you made me smile to see that speech was done very finely. Very little at fault here, just a hint to maybe explore more “ambitious” punctuation, but that is all.

Clarity- 7/10

Clarity for the most part was good and well done. With your Pacing it showed your story well, even keeping itself precise when action became faster. You’re writing skill is very good here, you do not allow yourself to become run away with anything. With small explanations you do give a background at the beginning, although I would encourage this a little more towards the end also. It became a little confusing with the last post, definitely it could have done with another in Ettermire, however all in all, well done.

Technique- 6/10

You do have some moments of definite powerful description, such as in post 2 with, various interactions of Skie in her environment, such as the stairs “creaking softly.” What was there was really good, and that gives you an above average score - however aside from this there was not many ambitious pieces. No sight of similes or imagery can be seen, and this would definitely help to raise your writing to the next level. I would encourage you to look at you description that is already there, and your actions that you use subtly and powerfully, and slide linguistic techniques in them to make them more powerful.



Wildcard: 6/10

Wildcard points to … readability. This tale from start to finish is enthralling and pulls the reader in. Its really beautiful and interesting to see how your character who actually has no powers is moving on in her life. Everything has changed for her, but she is still going. A very commendable person!



Final Score: 68/100

Skie and Avery (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?1387-Skie-and-Avery) receives:

1451 EXP!
136 GP!

Congratulations!

[Hysteria]

gold and xp added!