Logarthu Manor

[Daven Logarthu]

((To be judged as a quest, please.))

All across the vast frozen plains of Salvar lay numerous villages, cities, estates and manors, all subject to King Iorlan Rathaxea. Some were wealthy, enjoying the plentiful bounty of Salvar's mining community, as well as its trading network with the other nations of Althanas. Aeromancers worked their magic in every village and city, protecting it from the harsh climate of the Salvarian plains. Overall, the nation was making due quite well, with few difficulties.

However, in western Salvar, there rested a small village, with less than a dozen buildings overall. Its primary source of income was through fishing, which is not a very profitable trade. Its meager supply of money indicated that the people in this village do not live as well as they could. In fact, living conditions were quite poor. Yet, strangely, they never left, on the contrary, people were actually coming to the village.

This village, known to those who lived there as Logarthu Manor, was not any special place. However, it was run by a very fair man, Daven Logarthu. He was the reason why no one left, because no one else worked as hard as this man. He worked tirelessly both within the village fishing or fixing up the buildings, as well as outside the village securing trading contracts in Corone. The village adored the man and want the manor to succeed, if not for themselves, for Daven.

While Daven was incredibly fair, he was also quite emotional. Injustices tended to send him into a cold calculating fury. His sentences were often quite ferocious, but always seemed to be deserving. No one ever left the village with Daven on his frequent trips to Corone, so not a single person there knew of his "hobby". The thirty-five year old man was a vigilante, hunting down those who had committed crimes and passing judgment over them. He had angered many men throughout his life.

That day, Daven was working hard within his home, checking over paperwork and the like, preparing for another trip to Corone. He had secured several contracts with rather prestigious trading firms which would give Logarthu Manor seventy-five percent of the trade for the Salvarian sea bass, a hearty fish that thrived around the Manor. This contract he was working on was the last of the large trading firms and would give the Manor another eight percent of the trade.

A loud knocking echoed through the halls of the mansion, pulling Daven's concentration away from his work. He quietly rose from his wooden seat and made his way out of his study, down the creaky wooden stairs, past the giant stone fireplace and to the front door. He pulled open the door and Timothy Delroth, the owner and proprietor of the Tundra Inn and Tavern, stepped through the door into the foyer of the building. Delroth was a stocky man with very large hands. He was very no nonsense which Daven greatly appreciated.

"Thank you for coming so late, Tim. I am leaving for Corone in the morning and wanted to make sure everything would run smoothly while I was gone." As always, Tim Delroth would be the one in charge of the manor while Logarthu was gone. He was the only other owner of a building in Logarthu Manor, as the rest of the buildings were owned by Logarthu himself. He had a good head on his shoulders and was a shrewd businessman, though it was difficult to tell by looking at him.

"Na prablem, Lard Largathu," the man said in his Salvarian slur. The cold made it difficult to enunciate, frozen lips and all, so many Salvarians simply stopped trying and just spoke what was easiest for them. Though Tim was definitely one of the worst at it. "The fisherman leave t'marra and should nat be back fer a week at the earliest so everything around here should be good."

"It pleases me to hear that, Tim. If I can secure this contract, we will be able to control the prices of the sea bass and that will effectively double the income this place receives. It still is not a great deal, but it should be enough to allow us to do a bit more expanding." Daven stepped across the room to warm his hands and to pull a kettle from the fire. He looked over to Timothy inquisitively. "Would you like some tea to warm yourself?"

Timothy politely shook his head and turned toward the door. "Nah thank ya, sah. I left my san, Jastan, at the tavern and there are a buncha trable makers over thare." Daven smiled politely, thinking of the boy Justin Delroth all by himself with a bunch of drunken men. Knowing that twelve-year old, he knew the boy could handle himself, but he didn't stop Timothy.

"Of course, give Justin my best."

((Closed))

[Talon]

Loud voices, singing quite badly, rang out from within the Tundra Inn and Tavern. The fishermen were all getting outrageously drunk before they all left for there fishing excursions that would last at least a week. Three had their arms intertwined and were singing a Salvarian folk tune, without the least bit of rhythm or harmony. They sounded more like dying cats than people at that moment in time. The piano did nothing to remedy that either. The drunken man playing it did have an understanding of music, but that seemed to go out the window when he became drunk.

There was one man that did not revel in the alcohol that was being served to the tavern. In fact, he had barely touched the home brewed ale that had been served to him. The black cloaked man sat at the bar, unfocused on the drunken men around him, instead he focused all of his attention on the one person who seemed to not be drunk, a young boy who was running the bar. The boy's bright blue eyes and sandy colored hair seemed very out of place in Salvar, where dark eyes and hair seemed to dominate. The visitor himself had dark hair.

"Well, sir," the boy, Justin, was saying to the cloaked man, "if you wish to meet with Lord Logarthu, I am afraid you will likely have to wait." The boy spoke very clearly and with excellent grammar, again quite different from the rest of the brutes in the tavern. "He leaves early tomorrow morning, likely before dawn and will not be back for at least a week." The cloaked man smiled inwardly as things seemed to be coming together quite well for him.

Just weeks earlier the cloaked man had been in a tavern very similar to this in Knife's Edge. He had been approached by a rather well known figure from the demon underworld, Trakos vlor' Kinron, leader of the Deimis. The Deimis were a notorious Haidian group often cited for being a large pain in the side of the demon leadership. It was speculated that they were spreading their operations and to find their leader in Salvar was conclusive evidence to that very fact.

He had approached the man in the tavern, sitting at the table beside him. He had been brief and to the point. "Talon, I need you to kill a man by the name of Daven Logarthu. He can be found in a small western Salvarian village. Once the deed is done, bring me the wolf pendant he wears. It is worth one thousand gold to you." With that Trakos had left.

This man was none other than Zachary "Talon" Talion, an assassin whose signature weapon was his talon-shaped dagger. He had performed numerous assassinations, but few had been worth as much as the Deimis leader was offering. So here the assassin was, plotting the assassination of the leader of this small village.

Talon had no idea why this man was to be killed, nor did he care. He merely wanted the money. It was what he did, there was no need for remorse. Thanking the young barkeep, Talon stood up and turned to leave the tavern. He calmly stepped over a sleeping drunkard in the middle of the floor and exited the building. Just outside the door, he passed by a large man who simply nodded to him, saying "Gahday, sah."

Had the man turned and looked back at Talon after he passed him, he would have not seen him. For he had sunk into a nearby shadow, emerging forty feet down the road. It would have caused any normal man to look twice, and possibly faint. Once Talion reached the front door of the building, he looked up at the lamps which lit the front step and smiled. Leaning against the building, he quickly slipped into the shadow, and into the mansion.

[Daven Logarthu]

The shadows jumped around the room as small candle by which Daven was working slowly burned down to nothing. He had nearly finished the contract and was eager to get it done and go to bed. He was definitely going to have a long day of travel the next day. He hunched over the parchment and scribbled words in the tradespeech of the common people. A pendant hung from his neck, glistening in the flickering candlelight. The pendant took the shape of a wolf, given to him by his master many years ago as he left his village.

A dark feeling overtook the older man as he wrote. He stood up from his work and looked around. Daven was a sorcerer, once quite powerful. A majority of his magik had been stripped from him the same day his home had been destroyed and his master killed. He managed to maintain a hold over fire and wind, two of the elements he had always favored. Daven had a strong connection to his magik and it often warned him through feelings of darkness. The lamps which lit his doorway were lit by his magik and were informing him that something was wrong.

He rushed from the study to his room and grabbed his iron sword and his wooden staff. Returning to the hallway, he ran down the squeaky stairs to the front door. Daven pulled the door open and looked outside, finding nothing. Something was not right, he knew that for sure. His magik was never wrong. The vigilante sorcerer just had no idea what it was. He slammed the door shut and turned back to the main den. Standing in front of the fireplace he tried to sort out the feelings that were now overwhelming him.

Magik he had cast all over the house, various candles, lamps, and fires were all sending him negative feelings. First from his study, then his room mere seconds later. No one could move that fast, especially without him seeing. Daven slowly started back up the stairs. The noise they made was incredibly loud as he tried to sneak up on whoever or whatever was in his house. He quickly conjured up another small fire which simply floated through the air, he sent it to the end of his sword and it began to calmly circle it.

A vast warning emanated from behind him, the source being the massive fireplace in the den. Daven quickly spun on heel, and released a massive gust of wind down the fireplace at what appeared to be a black cloaked man. He only saw a glance as he forgot to take into account the backwards force the gust caused which knocked him back against the stairs. His staff flew from his hands and clattered down the stairs. The sorcerer stumbled to his feet and held his blade toward the bottom of the stairs.

"Who are you and why are you in my house?"

[Talon]

A gust of wind rattled the siding of the house as Talon silently slid inside. He found himself in a dark corner of the main room of the house, well away from the fireplace. He was taking advantage of a special skill that he had, the ability to Shadowmeld. Shadowmelding was an ancient art that only those that were Deimos could perform. Melding consisted of merging oneself into a shadow and using it as a portal to another shadow nearby. The truly talented Deimos could travel miles in a blink of an eye or create creatures from the shadows. Talon was not one of those people. He could travel within an area of about ten feet around the shadow.

Regardless of his limited ability, Talon still took full advantage of his skill and used it to get closer to a mark than any other run-of-the-mill assassin could. Even the most paranoid of people could not keep shadows from around themselves, which gave him an entry point. He simply waited for them to make a single mistake, like fall asleep, then he had them. Even now, in the middle of the night, he was sure that Logarthu had to be fairly weary.

Sliding his dagger from its sheath within his cloak, Talon melded back into the shadows to search the house. He emerged first in what appeared to be a study. A single candle flickered on the table, but beyond that, nothing moved. He continued into another room, this time a bedroom. A fireplace lit this room, but again there was no sign of Logarthu. A loud creek from outside the room gave Talon the information he needed to find his mark.

Shadowmelding back into the main den, he saw Logarthu slowly making his way up the stairs. Talon silently crept across the room, past the warm fireplace to the stairs. Readying his knife, he carefully stepped up the stairs, making not a sound. Without warning the mark spun around and something slammed into the assassin's chest. He flew backwards, falling down the stairs with a loud clamor. Moments later, the sound of wood on wood echoed in his ears before a wooden staff landed on his chest. Within seconds Talon was back on his feet staring at an enraged, yet confused, man.

Logarthu shouted words of confrontation, yet the assassin did not reply. Instead, he very simply and very deliberately tucked his dagger back into his shirt and pulled his longsword from its sheath. The man up the stairs gripped his blade tighter, sweat running down his face. Spinning on one heel, Logarthu ran from the room toward the bedroom. The fire in the den suddenly shot from the hearth straight at Talion. Wide eyed, he leapt to one side and the fire singed his left arm and leg. Miraculously it did not burn the wood of the house. The Deimos leapt head first at the wall as the fire turned to attack him again. He melded through the shadows and quickly redirected himself to the bedroom.

Logarthu stood leaning against the wall, facing away from the assassin. The fireplace rumbled, its light glistening on the sharp metal of Talon's longsword. Zachary Talion lunged at his mark, eager to finish him off and get out of the strange house.

[Daven Logarthu]

The sweat glistened on Daven's forehead as he glared down at the cloaked man. The black haired assassin, for that was what he was, stared defiantly back. The vigilante had killed a fair number of assassin's himself and could recognize one when he saw him. They just had an stench about them, a feeling about them that just felt wrong. Daven hated assassin's more than any other criminal, they often killed innocent people for nothing more than money.

The dark hair and eyes of the assassin reminded him of the evil man who had stolen most of his magik and killed his friends, family, and, worst of all, his master. Logarthu's eyes began to tear, forcing him to run back up the stairs, away from the horrid memory. As he was leaving, he cast a quick magik spell that sent the fire from the fireplace straight at Talon. It did not cost him much energy as he did not have to create the fire, simply use what was already available. His magik was honed to his heart, which meant it would not harm the house unless he willed it.

Dashing into his bedroom, he slammed the door shut and leaned his head against the door. Why did this have to be happening? A majority of his adult life he had spent being judge and jury against thugs like this assassin. Now, he was the one being hunted. He had invaded the vigilante's home and was trying to kill him.

Why am I running away? he asked himself. I have the means at my disposal to rid the world of this assassin forever. Not only that, but he came to me! This dark assassin is simply making it easier for me.

Another warning echoed in his mind. Daven spun about, raising his blade in defense. The assassin's blade slammed with great strength into his own sword. The sheer force of the blow nearly brought the sorcerer to his knees. The small ball of fire that he had summoned flew from its orbit around his iron short sword straight at the assassin. It struck him straight in the face, singeing the skin until it smoked. The cloaked man shouted outright and backed away from Daven, clutching his face with his free hand.

Daven watched in awe as the assassin sunk straight down into a shadow in the corner. He simply disappeared. Understanding overcame the vigilante as he realized that it was this amazing skill that allowed his would-be murderer to enter the room. He ripped open the door and ran back into the hallway. The hunter had just become the hunted, and a burning desire coursed through Daven's veins to see his prey dead.

[Talon]

The burning flame that seared his face forced Talon to cry out in agony. He had unaware of the small fireball that had been shot at him and he was caught completely off guard. Stumbling backwards, clutching at his face, Talon slipped back into the shadows. The assassin was unable to find the strength to hold on in Shadow World and was violently forced back out of another shadow, elsewhere in the house. The Shadow World was the place where the Deimos went to when they melded into the shadows. It was a small dimension and every available shadow appeared as a portal back to the real plain.

Zachary found himself in the dining room, exquisite oak table and chairs sitting stoutly in the middle of the room. What appeared to be a metal pitcher of water sat in the middle of the table on a metal platter, surrounded by glassware. The black haired assassin grabbed the pitcher and splashed it on his face. It felt blissfully wonderful. Looking down at the platter where the pitcher once sat, Talion looked at his reflection. His face was wrinkled and red, especially on the right side where the ball of fire had hit him directly. A monk could easily heal his face, though it was sure to leave a scar. Feeling a bit better, he adjusted his grip on his sword and started out of the room.

He emerged back out in the main room, beside the staircase that led up to the second floor. The sound of footsteps from directly above him alerted him to his mark's presence. Needing to regain the element of surprise, Talon stood silently up against the wall, hidden by the shadows. Logarthu slowly creeped down the stairs, the creaky boards echoing in the quiet of the night. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the sorcerer caught sight of his dropped staff and quickly picked it up. Now wielding his blade in one hand and his staff in the other, the older man continued his search.

Talon silently pulled his dagger back out from its hiding spot and quickly aimed it toward his foe. Releasing the iron blade, Talon stepped from the darkness. The talon-shaped dagger flew soundlessly through the air, but the assassin's exhaustion and the pain in his face caused the throw to be off. It slid deep into the sorcerer's shoulder, causing his arm to go numb and the staff to once again fall from his hands to the floor. Weary and obviously enraged, Logarthu miraculously managed to ignore the pain and rush straight at Talon. He quickly backtracked back into the dining room.

Logarthu struck his assailant hard in the chest knocking him up against the table. Swinging his sword down at Talon's head, he sought to end the battle then and there. Talon decided that it was not a very good plan, and brought his blade to stop the attack. The assassin literally shoved his blade back at the older man, knocking him backwards into a cabinet filled with nice glass items. The pieces shattered upon the impact, sending glass everywhere.

[Daven Logarthu]

Daven slowly crept down the stairs back into the den. The assassin was nowhere in sight, but that was no shock to Daven. The man was experienced at sneaking around and sliding through shadows as to not get caught. It was only by the vigilante's magik had he been seen this time. As he reached the bottom of the staircase, he noticed his wooden staff lying on the floor near the front door. It lent little protection to the sorcerer, but he always felt much more secure with it in his hand. Grabbing the staff from the ground, he slowly turned, listening intently for any sound that may give away the assassin.

Daven's concentration was shattered when the assassin's talon-shaped dagger sliced deep into his shoulder. Blood began to stain the front of his cloak, while pain ran in his shoulder. His arm went instantly limp and the staff fell to the floor once again, a loud clattering echoing through the relatively silent house. Cold fury filled Daven as he sighted the assassin. His once smooth face was red and a bit crispy from the fire. His black cloak was disheveled and the man just looked tired. Daven charged at him, his mind so filled with anger that he could not summon a spell to deal with the man.

He slammed hard into the assassin, knocking him back into the table in the dining room. The vigilante pulled his sword back to chop deep into the other man's neck, successfully ridding the word of the scum. The assassin managed to block his attack and even pushed the weakening man backwards into his glass cabinent, destroying the precious glass items within. Many of them were from Fallien, a rarity in the dense cold of Salvar. Glass cut deep into Daven's back sending pain through his entire body. His sword fell from his hands to the ground, surrounded by small pieces of glass.

The dagger in his shoulder and the glass in his back was severely weakening Daven. He mustered his strength and slammed his feet hard into the other man. He was knocked backwards onto the table, knocking Daven's remaining glasses to the ground. The metal pitcher fell as well, bouncing a few times before coming to rest nearby. Daven stumbled out of the cabinet and waved his hand to summon another ball of fire. It winked into existence, hovering over his calloused hands.

The black-cloaked man rolled off the table onto his feet, holding his blade out in front of his body defensively. Daven slowly stepped backwards from the room, crunching the glass fragments beneath the soles of his shoes. Blood dripped from his shirt in several places, falling to stain the floor below. He was beginning to feel disoriented and weak. Glaring vehemently at the intruder, he released the ball at him, aiming for his chest. Daven stumbled from his feet, grinding backwards onto the floor. His breathing became very shallow and it was clear he needed help and he needed it right then.

[Talon]

Talon's mind was grinding, trying to determine the best way to finish Logarthu off. Rolling off of the long table, he landed solidly on his feet, shaking out little bits of glass from his torn clothes. He fixed his grip on his longsword and headed out of the dining room toward where his mark was slowly backing from the room with a ball of fire in his hands. The clever assassin kept his blade close to his body in an attempt to protect himself from the fireball. His face was throbbing from the last attack and he truly had no desire to go through that again.

Suddenly, the flaming ball was flying through the air toward Talon. With a simple twist of his ankle he fell hard into the wooden wall nearby. The ball of fire flew by harmlessly and fizzled away as Logarthu dropped to the floor. The rise and fall of the other man's chest became weak and uneven and Talon could tell that the man was almost dead. It would be just a matter of time before he could collect the large sum of money owed to him for this assassination.

Zachary was eager to get away from this strange place with its violent fireplaces. He crept up to Logarthu's prone body, anxious to grab the wolf pendant and sneak away from this backwards little village. He stood over the fallen man blade pointed at his chest. The sorcerer stared straight up at the assassin, his grey eyes piercing straight into Talon's emerald ones. The longsword was pulled back, sliding through the air toward Logarthu's chest.

A bright light overcame the room, like daggers in Talon's eyes. He was blind! He merely looked around and could only see white light. His attack was hindered as his free hand flew to his face. Talon stumbled backwards toward the wall, slamming hard into the wooden surface. He could feel the shadows around his body and he instantly shadowmelded out of the room. He slid out of another shadow and fell hard onto cold snow.

The assassin opened his eyes and tried to look around. The area was blurry but slowly coming into focus. He had no idea what happened, nor how he had been blinded. He stood and went to reenter the building to finish Logarthu off, but heard loud voices from within the building. Cursing aloud, he turned from the building and tumbled out into the night.

[Daven Logarthu]

The assassin stood over Daven like a vicious dog eager for the kill. The dying vigilante was too tired to do anything more than stare at his killer. His precious blood was continuously being pumped from his body by his heart, though the flow had slowed. Daven focused all of his strength into that stare, trying to stab a dagger into those green eyes. He felt too weak to do anything, yet he knew he had to try. He had to do something to save his life.

He averted his attention to the blade that would be his death. It sliced easily through the air toward his body. A strange feeling overcame Daven; he felt detached from his body. He felt himself pulling in his strength and releasing it in a spell that he had no idea he knew. He felt it surge from his body through his eyes, releasing a bright light that permeated throughout the room. It felt familiar, yet distant. This was one of the spells he knew before his memory had been erased.

Talon stumbled backwards, clutching at his face. Out of the corner of his eye, Daven watched as Talon slid into a shadow and out of the room. The vigilante lay there on the floor alone for just a moment, feeling his life fleeting from his body. Voices of numerous people echoed through the room, though Daven thought it was merely a delusion. He knew that people's minds played tricks on them as they died. Many criminals saw family members while he was killing them.

This time, however, it was no delusion. He felt his head being lifted from the hard wooden floor onto someone's hand. A loud booming voice echoed through his head. "Lard Lagarthu! Lard Largathu, wake ap! Jastan, ran quickly ta tha healar!" Daven swooned in his thoughts before the world around him went black.

~~~~~

A few hours later, Daven awoke in his bed. His chest had been patched up and his strength was returning. Looking around he noticed the assassin's dagger was lying on the bedside table, stained in blood. His blood. He was alone in the room, save for Justin Delroth. The young boy was smiling at the older man, happy to see him awake. Daven mustered a weak smile for the child before slowly sitting up in bed.

"Careful, m'lord. The healer said that you need plenty of rest." Daven ran one hand over his face, massaging his temples.

"What happened?" Daven asked the boy.

"I was walking by your home and heard loud crashing noises coming from the mansion and ran to get my father. We broke in the door and found you lying on the floor, bleeding and nearly dead. There was no one else in the room with you. Your home was severely battered, and all of your precious glassware from Fallien was destroyed. Did someone break in?"

"An assassin. He was trying to kill me, and nearly succeeded had you not shown up. You all must have scared him away. I thank you, my boy." Justin smiled at the praise and tried to get more information from the lord, but Daven had already fallen back asleep. His body and mind were both resting from the day's overwhelming events.

[SPOILS:

Flash: A bright light that blinds a foe for five seconds, before their sight slowly begins to come back. Less than a minute after the attack, sight is fully restored. Can be avoided if opponent closes eyes for the short duration of the spell.

Note: Will only be used in quests until level up.]

[Talon]

Zachary was incredibly restless. Not only had he not killed his mark, he had lost his signature dagger. Daven Logarthu had somehow survived the incredible blood loss and was even now recovering for his trip to Corone. Talion took another swallow of his rum and glared viciously at the bartender as he brought him another glass. How could it have happened? Where did Logarthu get such power?

Talon was back at the same bar in Knife's Edge that he had visited just weeks before. Taking another gulp of his rum, he turned to tell off a man that had sidled up next to him at the bar. Before he had the chance, the other man spoke.

"You failed at your task, assassin." The voice was familiar, it was the voice of Trakos vlor' Kinron. "Logarthu yet lives, while you sit here drinking rum. I needed the man dead, not severely injured." Talon growled at the other man before speaking.

"You never gave any indication that the mark was a sorcerer. He was much more powerful than I was led to believe." He shifted in his seat so that the pitiful light source could reveal the large scar down the right side of his face. He had seen a healer when he had arrived in Knife's Edge, so the damage to his face was minimal, leaving a scar down his cheek.

"Ah, a sorcerer you say. That would explain the number of burned bodies that were discovered. What an interesting turn of events," the head of Deimis said. "However, this cannot be entirely my fault. Surely, any assassin worth his blade researches his mark to learn his weaknesses." Talon snarled at the other man.

"Of course, I did research. No one I spoke to about Logarthu mentioned that he was a sorcerer, it was as though he had been keeping it a secret from everyone in the area. Anyways, this mark is worth much more than the thousand gold bounty you have placed on him." Talon ran his fingers through his black hair as he spoke, the action subtly revealing how tired the man really was.

The demon smiled, a very poisonous smile. "But of course. I will give you five hundred gold at this moment, as well as another thousand for the kill. I have decided that I am also going to put you in charge of the Deimis Assassin's guild. You will manage which assassin's receive which marks from Deimis. Of course you can keep the best for yourself. The assassin's guild has a home in Salvar, a castle encased in ice in the north. Ironically, it is the very same castle, we have learned, that the High General Zieg dil' Tulfried met his mangy mutt Xeppa. Take care to protect it well." Trakos handed Talon a piece of parchment, which Talon assumed was a map to the castle.

"You have shown merit, Talion." The assassin started at the use of his given name. "As long as you do not betray us, your time here will be well rewarded." With that statement, the demon stood and left the tavern. Talon did not trust that man, he was too shady for his own good. The thought of the assassin's guild was quite intriguing, he would have to watch his back and be quite careful.

Talon hovered over his drink. He would go first to the castle in the north to establish the guild, then he would hunt down Logarthu and take back his dagger. Talon smiled. He could definately drink to that.

[SPOILS:

500 gold.
Map to the ice fortess.]

[Cyrus the virus]

STORY

Continuity 5 : There is nothing wrong with the continuity here. That said, you may wonder why the score is so average. In all honesty, I felt that if nothing else, the continuity of this story was very, very easy to maintain. The only things that needed to be kept straight were the personalities of your characters, the story of Daven’s trip to Corone, and a few smaller things. In a thread of ten posts and with a straight-forward series of events, I would not feel justified in granting more than a 5 here.

Setting 6 : Why do the people of Logarthu Manor fish as a profession if it is so unprofitable? Surely they can hunt instead, or even mine. If location’s an issue mention why, but at least give a reason for the people settling for the way of life they have. Immerse me in this place that I know nothing about! Subtle explanations like these can add life to your setting without depending on long paragraphs of description and explanation.

Otherwise, the setting was fine, if a little confusing at times. Each of you needed to go through the actions in the fight due to the bunnying, which led to a few inconsistencies and confusing portions that hurt the pacing. Not remarkable, but just fine.

Pacing 3 : Talon, I feel like your explanation of shadowmelding should have gone in your first post, and not your second, as it slows down the pace just a smidgen when the action begins.

As mentioned just above, the style of this battle between characters really hurt the pacing, as Daven would rewrite Talon’s perspective of events, write his own attack and result, and then Talon would reiterate, attack and write the result… It made the fight unnecessarily slow. Typically in fights where opponents bunny one another, the action is faster and more fluid, so I was quite surprised with this approach. If one of you writes an attack and the result of it, there’s no need for the other to go over it once more.

CHARACTER

Dialogue 4 : One thing that bugged me only slightly, but may be a detail to keep in mind in the future, is Tim’s accent in the very first post. It’s explained that he talks the way he does because the Salvar cold numbs the lips of those who live there. But when I try to speak his dialogue without moving my lips, it comes out far differently. I can’t pronounce M’s or B’s properly, though most other pronunciations are alright. With Tim, it seems the opposite. I didn’t dock points for this, but wanted to point it out because I noticed it.

Talon, using ‘likely’ in speech can give a character a feeling of incompetence, but it truly depends on context. In your first post, a boy named Justin, supposedly speaking with terrific grammar, says “if you wish to meet with Lord Logarthu, I am afraid you will likely have to wait” followed by “He leaves early tomorrow morning, likely before dawn and will not be back for at least a week.” You are trying to put him across as a smart, competent person, but the use of the word likely makes him appear unsure. He instead comes across as a mixture of an experienced authority and someone who isn’t incredibly well informed. He’s really only a fleeting character, but even NPC’s should have a lot of effort put into them.

I appreciated the thoughts of Daven in post #5. At that very moment, I was wondering why he was running away! This is either expert timing on your part or just a coincidence, but either way it was good to include.

The end dialogue was just fine, even if I don’t see why Talon is viewed by Trakos as somewhat competent. Surely there are more successful assassins for Trakos to have led his guild, no? I thought perhaps this should have been touched on, given more explanation that Talon being determined. I know Trakos’ personality, though, so I will assume he has many of these types of projects going on.

Action 5 : Talon, I’ll have to dock a single point here for your shadow melding in your introductory post. It’s stated that your character moved forty feet with one transition, when your profile states he may only move ten feet using this method. It’s not really a big deal, just one point.

I like Talon’s inability to hold onto the Shadow World while in intense duress. It lends some weakness to an otherwise incredible ability, and shows that the assassin is not invulnerable.

I can’t say I understand Talon’s willingness to fight a man face-to-face when he can simply shadowmeld away, to strike from behind. This happens after the thrown dagger strikes Daven’s shoulder, and the old man rushes the assassin. The lack of a personality field in Talon’s profile might be adding to my confusion, as I don’t know what kind of a fighter he is, but why backtrack into the dining room and allow Daven even the slightest chance of winning? I didn’t feel this decision was justified, for after throwing the water on his face, I assume Talon to be composed enough to once again step into the Shadow World.

Persona 8 : Daven is the type to forego sense and rush blindly at his opponent, which is precisely what he did after being hit with Talon’s trademark dagger. Makes sense. Talon is a killer assassin who has no reason to speak even a single word to his mark, which makes sense.

WRITING STYLE

Mechanics 5 : Always try to reread your post and find things you would change. There are some words in this thread I would love to see replaced, as they were somewhat distracting because of how out of place they seemed. Daven refers to a feeling of danger behind him in his second post as ‘vast’, and I found it distracting. I would not refer to a warning as vast, but sudden or abrupt. It sort of makes sense as it’s sent by a large fireplace, but not quite. Another reason to reread is that at the bottom of your second post, Daven, you mention the stairs three times.

An apostrophe is a funny thing. It should not go here: “Daven hated assassin's more than any other criminal”. Put an apostrophe there only if you’re mentioning something the assassin owns, such as in this case: “The assassin’s blade gleamed in the moonlight”. This is a very common mistake. If you already knew this, it only strengthens the point I made about rereading posts.

Besides these and a few other mistakes, both of you have clean styles that are easy to read. Just reread your posts, and then we’ll work on some more advanced techniques you could use to improve the impact of your stories.

Technique 6 : If there’s one section of the rubric that I am not qualified to judge, it’s this one. My grasp of advanced techniques is very limited, though I can spot them well enough to give some credit for them.

Using “like daggers in Talon's eyes” brings to me a terrific representation of the feeling he must have had at being temporarily blinded. It’s so much more effective than “The bright light forced Talon’s eyes closed” or something similar. Well done. “Like a vicious dog eager for the kill”, from Daven, is the same. I can visualize it.

Clarity 7 : One thing that isn’t terrible, but perhaps should be reconsidered in order for easier reading, is showing past dialogue. I’m referring to the explanation on how Talon got the assassination job in his first post. Try putting that part in italics, or constructing a stronger transition from present to past and then back.

Daven, I don’t understand how your character could shoot a gust of wind down a fireplace (post #3) if he was not on the roof, looking down the chimney. This could have been worded better, or explained a bit more thoroughly, as I was pretty confused about it for a few moments before I continued to read. Did you mean across it?

In Daven’s final post, there is a change I’d like to make. “An assassin. He was trying to kill me, and nearly succeeded had you not shown up.” I would change this to read “An assassin. He was trying to kill me, and would have succeeded had you not shown up.” It reads better and makes more sense this way. Another reason to reread. There are a few similar errors in the story, but this was the most obvious to me due to it being right at the end.

Wild Card 5 : There was no lack of effort here, but not much of it either. Wild Card, to me, signifies effort, so… Average ahoy!

Total: 54

Daven Logarthu gains 350 exp, 100 gold and his spell.
Talon gains 460 exp, 300 gold and the map.

[Cyrus the virus]

Rewards added!