Monotonous Bloodlust

[Ravenok Kinnes]

This is my attempt for a solo thread. So yeah, it's solo.

Fists clashed, metal upon metal rang throughout the ring within the Zirnden. Blood spilled, words of profanity exchanged, just another day in the life of Ravenok Kinnes. Except this was no ordinary day, today is more of what seemed like a dream... Or a nightmare. A match had been called, two fighters brought into the caged square where countless had fought before within, fame is just around the corner in this joint. To the winner... That is.

Ravenok was thrown backwards by the sheer force of his opponent's kick, a simple thrusting front kick that sent Ravenok sprawling to the hard floor. Gasping for breath, he stood. Leaning on one knee, lungs pacing in and out, in and out. His opponent grinning widely on the other side, knowing that victory was near. Never before had this type of strength come into contact with Ravenok's mid-section, never before had he been taken over by the strength of another. He was surprised, bewildered, and panting like a dog. His opponent, significantly taller than Ravenok himself at 7'1", a giant no less, rushed in at Ravenok, who by that time was just barely recovering from the shock sent through his body. All he was able to see was the greenish blur that made up his half-orc opponent's skin rushing at him, fist rearing for a punch.

He shut his eyes, body paralyzed momentarily. There was nothing that he could do at the moment. His match had been met, and unfortunately, was a little bit better...

----------------------------------------------------

2 Hours Earlier

Ravenok sat quietly upon a sturdy stool within a crowded tavern, slowly sipping down a mug of ale. A thin-framed man with a gigantic mouth sitting just across from him, at the same table. Mouth yapping non-stop with tales from the Zirnden, tales about fame and fortune, tales about warriors who had passed through and dessicated the competition. To this day several well-trained brawlers made their living from the Zirnden and it's generous cash prizes.

He was drunk, that was for sure. His face covered in mead, yellow teeth showing each time he grinned after finishing a poorly told tale about how some of the famous fighters in the world living this day came from the Zirnden. Ravenok sat quietly the entire time, annoyed and somewhat interested at the same time by this man's speech. He wondered what time of day it even was, the tavern had no windows. Dim lamps and near-burnt out candles littered the full of the room. The generally dim setting of the tavern was normal, like any other. Tables strewn across the main floor of the tavern, with a long bar counter in the back and several loud-mouthed bartenders sat behind it. A single case of spiraling stairs led to a second floor, Ravenok had no clue what was even up there. He did not even realize that it was until he looked closely, it was more like a pillar than a flight of stairs. People laughed, fought and drank off their sorrows like it was late, and those things gave the natural dreary feeling that usually resides in taverns. These occurences usually do happen late at night.

"Hm. Perhaps I would just have to check this Zirnden out now." Stated the freelancer, Ravenok. The streetear sitting across from him laughed haughtily. "What's so funny, you low-life bum?"

"At this time o' night, huh? Ah wouldn't be recommendin' that now, though..." The hobo replied, his voice trailing off after his eyes locked with Ravenok's bloodthirsty glare. "Though, a man lookin' like ye might be doin' some good in it, now."

Ravenok's glare seceded, a prideful grin spreading across his face. "Now that's what I like to hear, though i'd prefer it to be coming from a god, rather than some scum-sucking pig living in the streets."

The insults came rapidly, though Ravenok knew that his words would mean hardly anything to a drunkard like this man sitting across from him. The bum laughed again, followed by a series of coughs. Ravenok stood up out of his stool, empty mug of ale on the table. "Pay for that, will you old chum?" He asked the man, who was still coughing. The hobo quickly nodded after seeing Ravenok's glare. He payed no more attention to Ravenok as he left the tavern, and towards the Zirnden.

It was definitely night, stars were twinkling in the cloudless skies, at least that's what Ravenok had guessed. He didn't bother to look up, just noticed that there was an abundance of moonlight in the area. He had a basic idea of where the Zirnden was from what he had heard from various people. Remembering the vague details, he walked off. Fortunately for him, he wasn't far at all from the place. Just around a couple corners, Ravenok could already hear cheering, or screaming more like. Coming from what looked like an old empty building. He could even see the light coming form the small keyhole on the front door. A lone man sat at the front door, job unknown to Ravenok. He calmly walked towards him.

The mans head was turned over to the side, so his eyes were facing away from Ravenok. "Alright there, man, not just anyone can get inside this bulding, ye hear? Ye gotta either have some cash, or-" The man at the door started, but as he turned his head to face Ravenok his words trailed off. He looked at Ravenok closely, his words slowly coming back to him, "Or some muscle. I can clearly see which one you qualify for. Go ahead in, then. Just don't blame me if your head gets knocked off." He finished.

Ravenok cast a final look on the man sitting out in the front, turning the knob for the Zirnden. He hadn't said a word, yet. He was too intrigued about how it would be within.

It surely was no bastard's estate. The inside was crowded to the brink, even moreso than the tavern he had just been in. He could hear the screaming now, and he could have been fooled whether that front door was ten feet thick, or made of soundproof material, for when he walked inside his ears were nearly blasted out of proportion. Screams and cheers came constantly from the ring that he could not see yet. The initial room to the Zirnden was rather small, crowded with people who looked mostly like makeshift businessmen, and several warrior looking men were sitting down writing lord knows what on parchment. It smelled strongly of ale, there was a small bar, with an even smaller bartender behind it handing out drinks constantly. Drinks were flowing throughout the place, only a little bit more than the blood itself in here. It was also very warm inside, Ravenok guessed that it came from the ring in the center or the building. Ravenok was interested, definitely, and he wondered what would happen next.

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Ravenok looked around, after stopping shortly within the Zirnden complex. People looked at him from all over, most likely admiring him. Ravenok Kinnes clearly had the mark of "warrior" written upon his golden forehead. People of all varieties, colors and races gathered here. Strangely, there were no people that looked like actual fighters here yet, at least here in the entrance. Everyone in the room was small framed, sitting upon small stools with a mug of ale in one hand, a stack of papers in the other. One of the men came from Ravenoks side and approached him.

"Ye comin' here to fight? Normally it costs a small fee... But ye be lucky tonight, 'cause tonight we are lettin' everyone try their luck - at their discretion of course - " the man cackled roughly, his teeth were also rotted out and yellow, his breath was horrid. Ravenok was forced to turn his head and breathe from his mouth for a few seconds, " for free here tonight! So... Ye are here to fight, right?" He asked.

"Do I even need to answer that, you insignificant little wench?" Ravenok answered, he crossed his arms and looked back over to the man, whose eyes were wide, probably more with surprise than fear, being in a place like this. The man turned quickly, to a small table behind him with a stack of papers on it, the papers had large numbers printed on them, with a string hooked to them. He picked one up that stated "41," turned around and handed it to Ravenok.

"This be your number. Within here, you'll now be recognized as Fighter Number Fourty One!" Ravenok took the number from the man's hand and slung it over his neck. He let the number hang visible on his back, rather than his chest. The small man put his arm on Ravenok's shoulder and tried to lead him forward, through the crowd of people that were trying to register into the Zirnden. "Come this way, Fourty One, i'll be leadin' ye into the waitin' room."

Ravenok grabbed the man's arm with a single hand, wrapping his fingers around his diminutive wrist. He squeezed, and the man squealed like a pig, with Ravenok chuckling to himself. "Touch me again, and i'll break this shit off, you understand? I'll find my own way in." He said, letting go of the man's wrist, he quickly reverted to his small stool to the side of the front door, where he would baby his wrist for probably the next half hour.

Ravenok found his way easily into the waiting room that he heard of about ten minutes ago. The place was surprisingly large for the size it looked whilst standing on the exterior. Ravenok went through what looked like a tavern, much like the one he had been to earlier. Laughing, drinking and the occasional barfight filled the place just like any usual tavern. He saw several large warriors, probably resting fighters from the ring. He hadn't even seen the ring itself yet, the entrance that went into the center of the complex which was the ring was guarded by a gruff looking man, said that it was the spectator's entrance. Ravenok was pointed into the direction of the waiting room.

The waiting room was nothing much. A small room littered with fighters, big and small alike. Some appeared wounded, laying on one of the many small cots that filled the place. Several people that looked like doctors or medics were also inside, though they weren't doing anything in regards to the people that looked injured. Some large punching bags were strewn around the edges of the room, people were hitting them and practicing on them. One in particular, a large, hulking green mass that made the half-orc Fighter Number "17." Number 17 was beating one of the punching bags into submission, sand came out from the bottom. His muscles were rippling across his arms, and whoever came up to confront him were strayed off by his glare. Ravenok was amazed at how strong a half-breed could be. He looked uncoordinated though, with slow but terrifyingly powerful punches and kicks. The room was rank with the smell of sweat and blood, most probably tears as well. This was just the kind of place he belonged in!

Ravenok quickly found a small cot that was empty to sit down in. He could hear fighting outside the small curtain that was shortly to his left. Fighters came in and went out in between matches, so this was probably the entrance into the ring. He could hear the screaming, it was loud. One could barely even hear another talking right next to them within the waiting room. It all went quiet though, each time a fight was announced. He could hear numbers being called, and one of the fighters within the waiting room left out of the curtain. Probably another waiting room was somewhere within where the other fighter came out of.

He layed down on the small and meagerly satisfying cot, wondering how this night would turn out for Ravenok.

[Ravenok Kinnes]

"NUMBER SEVENTEEN!" Shouted the announcer, a loud and somewhat deep voice that echoed through the waiting room. Each fighter in the room looked around at once, to find the fighter labelled as "17." The half-orc fighter at one of the large punching bags stopped immediately and looked towards the curtain, it waited for his arrival. He grunted and, without a word, strolled out and into the ring. Several light conversations sprouted throughout the room, number seventeen was arguably the biggest man that Ravenok had ever seen, besides that of a giant.

"NUMBER FIFTY THREE!" The announcer shouted again. Once more the fighters looked around, Ravenok sat in the cot without moving a muscle. He knew his number, and pretty much everyone elses already. Even if he didn't know someone's number, he didn't care. The fighter "53" was nowhere to be seen in that waiting room, adding evidence to the fact that there indeed was another waiting room around here, with another set of fighters. Apparantly they didn't want the fighters getting acquainted somewhat while waiting in the room. It is bad for business. Immediately the audience erupted into blasts of screaming and cheering, Ravenok assumed that both fighters were now out in the ring. He could just barely hear the announcer shout "BEGIN!" over the clamor of voices out in the audience. The screaming only got louder when he said that. The fight had started, and Ravenok could only guess how long it would be.

One of the fighters in Ravenok's waiting room walked over to Ravenok and sat down on the cot adjacent to his. He looked well enough, a couple of bruises lined his small face. He was small compared to Ravenok, he wore little to no armor. So maybe he was fast. Nonetheless, Ravenok didn't care.

"Won a couple o' these fights, meself, I did." The fighter remarked. Ravenok was astonished, his speech was slow and little of vocabulary, it was contradictional to his somewhat intelligent look. Ravenok let him go on before speaking, "But that one, the one that just went out in' da ring, the half-orc one, boy is he strong!" The immediate reference to the half-orc made Ravenok a little interested. he furrowed his brow and allowed him to continue, "I quit just befo' the announcer called 'Begin.' I decided not to take me chances with one such as 'im. He be undefeated now, and mos' probably he'll have one more mark to his winnings."

"I also hear that since he be undefeated, they are givin' a handsome sum to whoever beats him, or even puts up a good fight against him! Aye, that be motivation to at least try, but I decided that I could be livin' without them earnings. I'll live off of my normal fight winnings."

When the man finished speaking, the audience stopped screaming. The silence engulfed the entirety of the complex for a moment. After a moment, the announcer spoke "The winner is... Number SEVENTEEN!" He shouted, and immediately the audience screamed again. The fighter sitting near Ravenok listened intently, and looked back at Ravenok after listening.

"Seems like he be gettin' some more money now, eh? Well, good luck in the fights to come, lad! Me? I gotta train!" With that, he stood up and strolle dover to one of the punching bags. As he left the curtain flew wide open, and three men came through. Two of them were carrying a sheet on both sides, a body lay upon it. They came in quickly and asked Ravenok to move, moreso told. He complied, with a grunt, and they threw the body atop the abandoned cot. The man, labelled "53," was unconcious, but held little signs of visible beating. Hmph, looks like a single clean blow. Ravenok thought. He could only guess that the half-orc fighter was forced to exit through and into the opposite waiting room. Apparantly a single fighter is chosen from both sides, Ravenok wondered if that meant if he could be paired with the half-orc. The thought distilled little fear in him, the rest of his feelings going toward interest.

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Ravenok watched Number Fifty Three silently on the cot, he was twisting and turning with his eyes shut, moaning and groaning. He looked sick, rather than beat up and unconcious. The two men who had carried him in didn't even bother to watch him, they just up and left after throwing him on the cot. Ravenok laughed to himself, and the "unconcious" fighter near him stopped turning. He stopped just so that he was facing Ravenok. It seemed like it was silent for a moment, Ravenok was still laughing to himself while watching the fighter. Wait.. What is that? Squinting!? The fighter was squinting! Ravenok's laugh stopped immediately, after realizing that this man was only playing a part, the part of unconcious warrior about to die if he thinks he can fool Ravenok Kinnes.

"Get up, fool." Ravenok said, and immediately following number Fifty Three sat up in his little cot, eyes wide. "You're a poor liar, kid."

"How could you have--?"

"I can see right through you." Ravenok quickly replied, before letting him even finish. He looked young, definitely, probably early or mid twenties. Now that he was awake and looking straight at Ravenok, he could tell that the bruises on his face weren't from anytime recently. Fifty Three was reluctant to speak, so Ravenok went ahead and continued, "Why were you faking?"

"To get out of fighting that half-orc!" Fifty Three responded. "You had best hope that you don't get paired up with him." He realized that Ravenok was examining his bruises, "Oh, these? I gave them to myself... With hopes that it would help me fake illness and get out of the fight..."

"How would punching yourself in the face make persuading everyone that you were sick easier?" Ravenok asked in return. Fifty Three responded with a slight shrug. "Well, you're a damn fool. Conversation ended." Ravenok layed back on his new cot on his folded arms behind his head, Fifty Three stared at him for a little while, wondering to just let it go or keep talking.

"I wouldn't say that, I heard from another fighter just before I was called out that the half-orc was a helluva fighter. Fast, strong, dumb, but strong." He used a little more emphasis on the word 'strong.' Ravenok was paying no attention. He didn't need to hear this again, he knew what strength was.

"I don't care if he's strong, and I don't want to hear another word from some little bitch filled with fear, got it?" Fifty Three sank down into his own cot, his thoughts of perseverence immediately halted and destroyed, "I don't want to hear another word, or i'll break your neck." Ravenok said.

That did indeed stop Fifty Three from talking. He had a look of sadness on his face, which Ravenok couldn't seem to catch out of the corner of his uncaring eyesight. He stood up and walked away from Ravenok, towards some spec of the room Ravenok didn't bother to see. Ravenok shut his eyes and decided to just wait until he was called, getting a little bit of rest until then. But seconds after he shut his eyes and got comfortable, the announcer spoke:

"NUMBER FOURTY ONE!" He screamed. Ravenok's eyes popped open, surprised and somewhat thrilled. No more waiting... Let's do this. He thought to himself. He waited a moment before going out, several of the other fighters were looking at him from across the room, pretty much trying to tell him to go. Apparantly they knew his number. He was waiting for the announcer to call the second number, but he didn't. Rather than waiting Ravenok stood up and calmly strode out of the room, through the curtain, and into the light.

Crowds cheered just as Ravenok came out. It was indeed packed. Through the curtain, there was a narrow walkway only going about ten feet, then it descended a little bit with stairs. Ravenok could only see the middle to top of the caged ring. He looked up, and common folk were looking down at him from their bleacher seats, screaming and cheering. He walked forward slowly, taking in every part of the current spectacle. When he got to the stairs he could now see the ring fully, caged with iron-barred doors, one on each side. Around him was a circle, a circle of bleachers which currently seated hundreds of people. All screaming and cheering. There was already a fighter in the ring, apparantly he had been called out when Ravenok wasn't paying attention. He was looking up at Ravenok confidently. He had no muscle, small framed and dressed in loose fitting and extremely dirty ring mail. Ravenok chuckled. It wasn't the half-orc he had been hearing about all night, but at least he was allowed a chance of warming up before he did face the half-orc.

Ravenok made his way down the steps, not that many of them. A bored looking man stood by the iron door leading into the ring, he opened it slowly for Ravenok. "Good luck, lad." He said to Ravenok in a convictionless voice. He stepped in, and the man shut it and locked it with a tiny key. I see why that retard had to fake a way out... Seems they don't let you out till the fight is over. Heh. He thought.

The young'un on the other side of the ten foot long ring seemed eager, hopping up and down on his short legs. He was thin, looked like he hadn't eaten in a while. He was a bum, trying to earn his fortune for living here in the Zirnden. Well, he came poorly prepared if he thought of fighting Ravenok.

"BEGIN!" The announcer shouted, and immediately the bum rushed at Ravenok, uncoordinated and clumsy. His fist reared back for a punch. Are you kidding me? Ravenok thought to himself. Surely he couldn't be this bad. It must be a facade. Ravenok stood there while the bum rushed him, wondering what to do. Mutilate or win? No time to think, Ravenok was punched in the face. His anticipation had led to a direct hit in the left cheek from the bums fist. Ravenok laughed aloud, this couldn't be a fake. The punch was weak, and even the style of the punch drained power from it. He was punched again, and again, once in the abdominal muscles, which hurt Ravenok none, and another in the opposite cheek.

Enough was enough, Ravenok had to do something. The bum's next punch was aimed for Ravenok's nose. He threw it quickly, and Ravenok's left metal hand darted up to catch it. The bum's arm shook in place, ensnared by Ravenok's grip. The grin coming from Ravenok at that time alone could have killed the man. Nonetheless, he tried with his other hand. But just like before, it was caught by Ravenok's other hand.

Both hands were caught, and the bum looked scared. Obviously he couldn't think what to do anymore. He could have used his legs, but Ravenok supposed that he should just end it.

The bum's hands snapped, his frail hand bones broken in both sides from Ravenok's ever tightening grip. He screamed in pain and pulled away, Ravenok let go. It wasn't over, though, an uppercut to the gut blew the wind out of the bum, along with some saliva. He lurched over in pain, crying out mainly from his hands. Ravenok turned and took a step towards the iron barred door, the bum looked up feebly, hoping to god that the fight was over. But Ravenok spinned around suddenly, foot up in the air. Ravenok's foot connected with the bum's face in a spinning hook kick, sending him sprawling to the floor. Knocked out, or dead. Ravenok cared not. The fight was over, he had won.

[Ravenok Kinnes]

The crowd cheered in some sections, others screamed "Boooo!" Reasons as to why the fighting spectacle that had just ended had brought up anger in some people Ravenok did not know, nor did he care very much. All he knew at the time was that he won, probably even considered himself somewhat lucky at the time for there were surely better fighters than that bum here in the Zirnden. More specifically, the half-orc. He wondered when he would have to fight the half-orc, he didn't even know if he'd decide to stay long enough so that he'd be called out into the ring with him. Part of him hoped that he did have the opportunity to fight the half-orc brawler, another part of him almost felt afraid. From recent tales about him, he is undefeated and has a terrifying level of strength. Ravenok had never really fought someone that strong before, he had fought some strong people, but not someone as strong as these fighters here are describing the half-orc. He would just have to wait and see...

Ravenok didn't watch as a couple men came in from the opposite iron barred door that he had entered himself at the start, putting the bum on a similar sheet like Fighter Fifty Three and taking him back into the opposite waiting room. The bored doorkeeper on his side was already ready to let him out, fumbling clumsily with the tiny key-ring in his possession. "Hurry it up, fool." Ravenok said, and the doorkeeper shot him an angry look. He found the key and unlocked the door for Ravenok, who immediately stepped out of the ring and walked through the curtain leading to his original waiting room. He could hear the announcer shout him as the winner, number Fourty One, as he entered into the room. Several of the fighters clapped, while others just stared at Ravenok for reasons unknown. Number Fifty Three that spoke to him before approached him as he entered,

"Ah, good job, there. Though, it was rather quick and I know not who you faced... Was it the half-orc?" Fifty Three asked.

"What is it with all of this half-orc shit?" Ravenok replied, "I care not for a musclebound orc halfbreed who probably thinks that he's the best brawler in Althanas, and I care less for those who make it their duty to speak about him all day and night!" Fifty Three took a couple of steps back, noticing that Ravenok was enraged. "I told you not to talk to me, consider yourself lucky I don't have your neck right now. But i'll save it for the ring." Ravenok sat down on the cot nearby the curtain, the same one that Fifty Three had been on before. Fifty Three walked away, his young face saddened a little bit, yet again. Again, Ravenok was apathetic to his feelings. He looked throughout the room, conversations had started and rumors probably spread already with false tales of the recent battle.

Ravenok shifted his little necklace/paper identity to where it was in the front, he was getting slightly annoyed by the string rubbing at his neck. But he supposed he would have to wear it. He wondered where his prize was? Hadn't he just beat a man ruthlessly in a duel at the Zirnden? This was an official fight club, he deserved a reward! His thoughts and prayers were answered immediately, for a man that he had seen rewarding another fighter when he first entered the man strolled into the waiting room, holding a small pouch. He looked for a moment, then caught sight of the lounging Ravenok near the ring entrance.

"Ah, there you are, number Fourty One! Good fightin', in there! There just may be some o' that fightin' spirit in you, yet. Keep it, up! The Zirnden rewards their fighters handsomely." He said, handing Ravenok the small pouch that jingled with money when he held it. The small man immediately left after nodding in acknowledgement. Ravenok opened up the small pouch and looked inside, only about ten gold pieces were within. Not too bad, for winning such an easy fight. He shut the pouch and, satisfied, shoved it somewhere into his tunic. He shut his eyes again and just simply waited for the next calling of warriors...

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Ravenok thought that he had fallen asleep for a bit of time before anything of significance happened for him again. He was awoken from his small nap by the sound of the announcer talking. He was shouting out about who the next two warriors could be, two great warriors or two losers. The crowd was silent, for the time being. How long had Ravenok been here? An hour? Two? He had lost track of time at this point, he hadn't seen the outside at all since he'd been here, and he fell asleep for what seemed like days. Nothing was new, people were busy "training" on the punching bags and others were sleeping, just as Ravenok had been. He wondered what had been going on fighting wise in the ring, who had been called, who won and who lost. There were several other people in the waiting room that looked unconcious, after being beat up. They hadn't been there before he fell asleep. He must've been asleep for at least an hour, he thought, for all of these fights to pass already. He was especially surprised that he hadn't been called again, or perhaps he just simply slept through it. Nonetheless, it seemed that he had woken up just in time.

"NUMBER FOURTY ONE!" Screamed the announcer, and the crowd cheered. Who knows why they cheered? Ravenok had only been out in one fight, which was like an hour ago, and it lasted no less then ten minutes! Ravenok stood up, his back ached from resting on the small and meagerly satisfying cot for who knows how long. He stood up slowly, and someone shouted from somewhere in the room, Ravenok wasn't certain, "Hurry it up, mate!" He bent backward, limbo-fashion, and his back cracked. "I'm moving, damnit, can't you see I was sleeping?" Ravenok responded, angrily. He ruffled up his already messed up brown hair before heading out.

Cheering became louder as he walked out into the ring, another bored looking man had opened the door for him. He was in the ring now, the other fighter hadn't been called out yet, and it only added to the tension. Ravenok looked around at the audience, he hadn't before. It surprised him, lowlife and bums may have been fighting in the ring, but it certainly wasn't bums and low-lifes who spectated the matches. The ones he had seen when first coming out of the curtain were only a group of hobos, but the rest of the crowd seemed to be lavish living nobles. He did recall the man at the front of the Zirnden say that you could only come in if you either had money or muscles. He guessed that they betted on these fights. He wondered how much money that half-orc made some, or most, people. Fuck the half orc! Ravenok thought, angrily. He'd had about enough talk of him by now, it was about time that the talk of the half-orc was replaced with talk of Ravenok! May any feeble gods that people worship have mercy on Ravenok's next opponent... Because he won't.

"NUMBER SEVENTEEN!" The announcer screamed. Crowds cheered and whistled even louder this time around. Ravenok's sudden moment of pride was broken by what the announcer said, his interest was perked up and his gaze went to the curtain where the next warrior would stroll out to meet Ravenok. Wait, number seventeen? Why was that ringing a bell in Ravenok's head?

His thoughts were answered by the half-orc who pushed the curtains aside and walked casually down and into the ring. It was about time that Ravenok got a good and close look at this half-orc everyone was talking about. He was surely large. Noticeably greenish skin covered the whole of the beast. He was barely armored, wearing only a roughed up studded leather vest, which wasn't closed in the middle. His abdomincal muscles showed, and they looked like a sheet of steel themselves. He had no sleeves on the vest, showing his triceps, biceps, and deltoids. They were nearly twice the size of Ravenok's! He had poorly groomed hair, which was long and dark brown. It covered most of his face, but underneath Ravenok could see that he had the intelligence of an infant. Who could guess?

The half-orc did look dumb, but he looked like no novice to battle. His hands were wrapped in bloodstained rags, Ravenok could guess that it wasn't his blood on those rags. He was let into the ring opposite of Ravenok, ten feet away. He simply came in and stood facing Ravenok on the other side, in no particular fighting stance.

"BEGIN!" Shouted the announcer. The half-orc immediately rushed in at Ravenok, who immediately got into his own stance. He spread out his feet so they were about three feet apart and bent his knees, providing a base. His arms went up with fists clenched into a defensive position. The fight begins!

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Ravenok had the feeling that this probably wouldn't be as easy as the fight before with that hobo. The half-orc was charging fast, almost too fast. He didn't seem to be holding back, he may have looked just a little more ruthless than Ravenok at the time. An elephant's charge.

Ravenok was astonished, the speed of the half breed running at him was too fast and came too abruptly, Ravenok wondered if he'd be able to block anything that he threw at him with the momentum force behind that charge. In turn, Ravenok lightened his stance, it became a stance that was more likely to be used to jump to the side, and it turned out that Ravenok was right. He came in hard, with a surprisingly coordinated front kick aimed high at his chest. Ravenok managed to jump swiftly to the left side though, the foot moving harmlessly past his body. This was definitely no novice fighter, for the half-orc then dropped his foot and stance, reared his elbow back for a moment, then threw it like an arrow at the same location on Ravenok's chest.

The only thing Ravenok could do at the moment, was to throw his arms up in front of his mid section with the metal covered hands. The blow was hard, connected squarely with Ravenok's gauntlets. The strength was amazing, it blew Ravenok's top part of his body backward, in limbo-fashion. Ravenok used the momentum to finish the backhand spring that put him about five feet to the half-orc's right, who was turning and readying himself for another charge. His fighting style wasn't as agile or as coordinated as Ravenok's martial arts, but it did have just the right amount of coordination and speed along with immense strength to match Ravenok's skill.

Ravenok opened his right hand and cupped it, with nothing in it. But quickly, the air around it began to turn to a blue-ish hue, and a small ball of ice formed in the cup of his hand. Just large enough so he could grasp it tightly. The half-orc charged at Ravenok again, hands up guarding his face like some sort of boxer. Ravenok pulled his arm back, then threw it forward, slinging the ice ball out of his grasp, aimed for the half breed's abdomen which was uncovered.

Despite having been impaled by a cold ball of ice in the gut, the half-orc still charged. Ravenok was forced to leap to the right side or be mauled down by a tackle. The half-orc stopped after Ravenok leapt out of the way, he looked down to see what had been thrown at him, cupping the now melting ball of ice in his hands. Ravenok watched for a moment, but quickly took advantage of the opening with a grunt. He charged himself at the half-orc.

Ravenok launched a quick right hook that would have hit squarely on the half-orc's left cheek had he not brought his arm up to block it. He stopped Ravenok's fist with his forearm, then quickly grabbed hold of his fist. The surprised Ravenok threw his second free hand at the half-orc's opposite cheek, which to his surprise was also caught.

What did this situation seem like? Ah, this is exactly what Ravenok did to the hobo earlier that night! He was surprised that the half-orc could hold his fists. Though Ravenok was not all but strength. His gauntlets quickly began to turn to a blue-ish color, the guantlets themselves. They were practically freezing, feeling extremely cold to both Ravenok and the half-orc's hands. The beastly grin on Ravenok's opponent's face faded away as he felt his hands begin to freeze. He grunted and picked Ravenok up with both his hands in his grip, he was attempting to slam Ravenok's back onto the hard ground behind him!

The sheer momentum of the throw would be enough to break a man's back and more, but the half-orc foolishly kept hold of Ravenok's hands as he threw him backwards, which allowed Ravenok to prevent his demise. Ravenok, using his flexibility, caught himself on his feet. Yes, Ravenok was holding onto the half-orc's hands, while his body was bent backwards to extreme measures. They were still clutching eachothers respective hands, both were leaning backward, limbo-fashion(It kindof looked like this, [ just turned 90 degrees clockwise).

They watched eachother upside down, their faces nearly touching. Their hot breathing annoyed eachother. Both were amazed by their opponent's flexibility, but neither could hold on for long, Ravenok's gauntlets were still freezing cold! Enraged now, the half-orc pulled Ravenok back up with his upper body strength alone, pulling himself back to an upright position, which in turn again flung Ravenok, only this time it was in front of the half-orc. This time both fighters let go, flinging Ravenok across the whole of the ring, ten feet.

His back slammed against the cage that surrounded the ring, the loud popping sound of the bonds themselved were heard being torn from their pockets. The cage held, and Ravenok fell to the ground. He quickly recovered though, for the impact wasn't too much. He looked up under sweaty brows, and saw the half-orc charging at him again from the ten feet. This man never stops! Ravenok quickly thought to himself, as he stood up. Again, Ravenok opened his right hand, but he also opened his left. A small ball of ice formed in the left, and a small orb of flame in the right. He quickly tossed them into the air, high above the half-orc's head, he was still about five feet away. As expected, he looked up. But Ravenok wasn't falling for this trick again.

The ice ball and the fire ball harmlessly collided above the half-orc's head, turning to water that fell on his face. Rather than rushing at his looking up opponent, another ball of ice formed in Ravenok's right hand. He whipped it at the half-orc's face, who in turn shot his hands up to his face and wiped it off. He brushed the ice to the ground, but when his sight came back, Ravenok was already at him with a charge, a punch to the chest already thrown. It connected, and Ravenok could physically hear the "Ooph!" sound the half-orc made when the wind was torn from his lungs. But at that point, Ravenok tried to attack again, but the half-orc threw a desperate attack.

Ravenok was thrown backwards by the sheer force of his opponent's kick, a simple thrusting front kick that sent Ravenok sprawling to the hard floor. Gasping for breath, he stood. Leaning on one knee, lungs pacing in and out, in and out. His opponent grinning widely on the other side, knowing that victory was near. Never before had this type of strength come into contact with Ravenok's mid-section, never before had he been taken over by the strength of another. He was surprised, bewildered, and panting like a dog. His opponent, significantly taller than Ravenok himself at 7'1", a giant no less, rushed in at Ravenok, who by that time was just barely recovering from the shock sent through his body. All he was able to see was the greenish blur that made up his half-orc opponent's skin rushing at him, fist rearing for a punch.

He shut his eyes, body paralyzed momentarily. There was nothing that he could do at the moment. His match had been met, and unfortunately, was a little bit better...

The half-orc charged at him quickly, Ravenok was defenseless. The fight was over... Ravenok wondered how he could even recover from such a blow to the chest so quickly, only to charge Ravenok again. But wait, what's this? Ravenok, now gaining his bearings again, saw the half-orc slow down.

The half-orc suddenly burst out into a sneezing fit.

He was stalled! Ravenok couldn't believe his luck. How is it possible that just in his time of despair, luck had seemed to find him to turn the battle in his favor. Ravenok stood up slowly, watching the half-orc sneeze crazily. He was forced to shut his eyes in each sneeze, lessening his vision to near blind, his heart skipping a beat each sneeze as well. Ravenok laughed quietly to himself for a second, but decided to finish it. He leaped into the air, somersaulting forward, and extended his right leg out, heel extended and aimed for the half-orc's shoulder blade.

Ravenok came down hard, the somersault adding on momentum to the stylish finishing move that in another case he wouldn't have the time to utilize. The heel connected with the half-orc's right shoulderblade, a perfectly executed axe kick. The kick sent the half-orc to the floor, his sneezing suddenly halted. He was knocked out by the force of his head hitting the hard ring floor. Silence overcame the entire arena, the crowd still wondering just what the hell had happened...

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Ravenok's victory grin pretty much took over his entire sweat-covered face. Ha... What a bitch. Ravenok thought to himself, the satisfied grin telling the doorman to open it up quickly so Ravenok could leave and reap his reward. He wondered what it would be, either more money or perhaps some kind of item. A weapon of sorts. Ravenok hoped it was money, what use did he have for some half-baked weapon? His fists were much better than any blade. He didn't know, but would soon find out.

He wiped the sweat off of hi forehead with his right arm, quickly realizing one thing: He smelt extremely bad. All this time, Ravenok had thought the rank smell was coming from the dirty half-orc, who by the way was getting picked up by two men, or at least, they were trying. He had no idea that the smell of stale sweat was coming from himself! He also realized that his tunic was matted down to his chest with sweat as well. Damn, is this place hot. he thought. He had only just tuned into his senses. Either it was him, or there was a part of the sun searing in that very room.

"Good job, Fourty One!" The doorman called as Ravenok stepped down the raised ring, he had suddenly perked up after finally seeing something that could be called a delightful spectacle. "That was a fight fo' the ages." He said happily, with a smile on his face. Apparantly Ravenok had made his day. That made one, at least. The crowd had begun to realize that they lost money because of Ravenok's actions. They had betted against him. Some sections of the crowd began booing loudly, instigating other parts to boo as well. It was just an annoying buzz in Ravenok's ears. He didn't care what the fools thought , it was their fault anyway for doubting him. He quickly made his way back to the waiting room, not listening to the announcer shout him as the winner. The crowds screaming faded away.

The air within the waiting room was different this time. He had went to the same one he was in before, but it seemed different. The fighters who were previously talking stopped when Ravenok walked in, they just stared. Looking for any cuts or bruises, or maybe they were just thinking of ways to congratulate him. Some of them actually seemed scared, Ravenok had become the "one" in the crowd now. No one dared talk to him, but that was just the way that Ravenok liked it. He made his way to his usual cot, near the curtain and sat down to ponder.

The same man who came to give him his past reward now came in again, with another pouch. This one was bigger, and it jingled as he walked towards Ravenok. It was money, and Ravenok was glad.

"M'fraid I wasn't able to watch dat fight, there. But I been hearin' good things! Here you go, lad. A generous sum from the Zirnden." He said, and turned to leave immediately. Hed retreated back to whatever spot he came from, out of the waiting room, and Ravenok was tossing the pouch up and down. It seemed somewhat heavy, and it made Ravenok happy.

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Ravenok shoved the pouch of gold into his tunic, he didn't bother to count the contents just yet. Things had settled down within the Zirnden. The tension that had been residing within the waiting room when Ravenok returned after fighting the half-orc had left, and the usual atmosphere returned. Fighters trained on punching bags, conversed and slept. Ravenok still wondered what time it was. Probably near dawn by now. He was rather tired, and was surprised that he was even able to participate just minutes earlier, moreso at the fact that he won. He didn't know what to do, he was satisfied with the Zirnden. He had come, won, and acquired some gold in the process. He even realized that he had a special ability that he had never done before. What luck had befallen Ravenok Kinnes that night? He was about to leave, looking around the room one more time before standing, but just as he was about to get up, the half-orc that he had just beaten pushed past the curtain and came into the waiting room.

Impossible, Ravenok thought, How could he be concious already? Inhuman! Indeed it was strange. His previous opponent seemed concious enough, let alone well-enough to walk. Ravenok could only watch in awe while Number Seventeen just casually strolled in, looked towards Ravenok and went to him, sitting in one of the cots adjacent to Ravenok's.

"What is this?" Ravenok said, "How can you be awake? I'm surprised you aren't dead, novice." Seventeen just stared at Ravenok, his black eyes searching Ravenok's person. All Ravenok could do was stare back with a bewildered look on his face. It seemed to go on for hours, when in reality it only lasted a few seconds. Ravenok abruptly stood up and begin to leave. He was done with this place. He didn't know where he was going next, but he knew it wouldn't be here in Scara Brae.

"Wait," The half-orc said, and Ravenok stopped immediately in place, whose head cocked to the side to look at Seventeen with an annoyed look on his face. Does he want another beating? Ravenok asked himself. "I have something for you." He said, voice extremely deep but void of conviction. He reached his bear paw of a hand into his vest and extracted a dirtied piece of folded parchment. He handed it to Ravenok, who reluctantly took it. "A note, for one such as you. May it serve you well. For me, I have pay to collect." Seventeen got up himself and brushed passed Ravenok, who was looking down at the parchment and was beginning to unfold it. He left without a word. Ravenok wasn't concerned about where he was going, but he did wonder what he meant by 'I have a pay to collect.' The words were ordered wrong, and showed that Seventeen indeed didn't have much intelligence, but the Freelancer was learned enough to find out what he meant. He was payed to give Ravenok this note?

Ravenok sat back down on the cot he was previously on and finished unfolding the parchment, and it read as follows:



I don't know who you are, and you don't know me. But I know that you must be extremely confused as to why you are receiving this letter. If the man from whom you acquired this was correct in his duties, then you have been chosen for a special honor.

Heard of Chi, yes? Yes, I believe you must've, if you were chosen to receive this. I don't know to what extent your abilities reach, but I do know that however much you know about Chi, you do not know about the Darkness Technique. What is this 'Darkness Technique,' you ask? Well, you can only find out if you accept my one and only invitation to my abode. Only then will I tell you in detail what the Darkness Technique is. What I will tell you, though, is that it is a form of Chi. The power that resides within those that use the Darkness Technique is immense, and all that we wish to do is show you this power.

Accept this or not, the choice is up to you. But I tell you this, refuse, and you will surely regret it. Don't believe me? Then don't come, you'll see what happens. Now you wish to find out where I am, don't you?

Ever heard of the Red Forest? I am sure you have... Come to it, for that is where you will find me. I tell you now, though, it is quite a large forest, and even larger are the creatures that lurk within. Trust me, there will be help along the way to guide you to me. How will they know you? Why, show this note to them of course! You know of the Raiaera region? I'll assume you do. You'll find a spire on the south eastern side of the region, about a mile north of the northeast corner of the Red Forest. Rather easy to come by, if I do say so myself. There you'll find an Inn called The Bearded Lady. Look for a man dressed in pitch black garbs, he'll probably be wearing a hood over his face. Show the note to him, and you're good to go. Come within the next tenday or so, will you? Wouldn't want your source to get tired and leave, now, do you?

I'll be waiting.

--Anonymous

What the fuck? Ravenok thought to himself. This man, whoever he is, wanted Ravenok to go all the way to Raiaera!? What kind of crap is this? Ravenok shoved the parchment into his tunic, after crumpling it up in his fist, and thought for a moment. Well, at least the note gave him a place to go. He didn't even know where he would be heading next, he had no plans. No recent bounties had been posted at the local tavern, and he had already witnessed Scara Brae's best entertainment here at the Zirnden. Maybe he would try this out, as farfetch'd as it may have sounded. He had no other choice, according to the note, if Ravenok didn't go there would be grave consequences to face.

With that, Ravenok stood up, took one final look at the waiting room, and strolled out, leaving the putrid smelling air behind him. His fifteen minutes of fame had passed, and none of the other fighters in the room payed any heed to his exit. Ravenok wasn't noticed by anyone else within the Zirnden. Number Seventeen had left already, and the man whose hands Ravenok broke earlier was missing from his little stool. The only person who noticed him was the man who came to him to take his number from his neck. This would be the time he would leave the Zirnden behind... Probably for good.

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Luck was the Guardian Angel of Ravenok Kinnes that night. It had scored him some fighting experience, some gold, the discovery of a new Chi technique, and a strange note that came from the one opponent that gave Ravenok a good challenge in the Zirnden. Ah the note, Ravenok wondered who it might be. He wondered who Number Seventeen was, though he had it on good authority that he was simply a merc who was payed to give that note to whoever filled certain requirements still unknown to Ravenok. They weren't stated in the letter, just implied that whoever was chosen to receive the note was one with knowledge and ablility to use Chi. Was it fortune? Or will this turn into hell? The thought was clouded before Ravenok's eyes, though those clouds would be supposably blown away by the man who he was to meet in the Red Forest.

He had heard only vague details about the Red Forest, and Ravenok himself never felt the need to go there himself and explore. At least his horizons would be broadened, despite whatever lied on the other side this quest. He heard about the peril that lived within, the fact that those who went under the Forest's boughs weren't found alive to tell the tale. Fools to Ravenok, they were through his eyes. Their fates were sealed within that forest, but the fate's end of Ravenok Kinnes was much farther down the line than that... Right?

"Ah, to hell with it. I'm going." Ravenok said as he walked out of the Zirnden, the small wooden door shutting quietly behind him. The Zirnden was now a thing in the past, his path for the next tenday was clear.

"Where?" Said the man sitting next to the door. It was a different man then before, Ravenok noticed. He was a little bigger than the last man, with a slim face and gloomy eyes. He seemed tired, Ravenok didn't blame him. He was tired himself... It was time to find an Inn. His journey would start the next day.

Wait, no, not the next day. Later that day it would start, for the smell of dawn was in the air. The street that Ravenok now stood on was vacant, a cold breeze blew through, chilling his spine. It was still dark, but Ravenok could see a red streak coming across the far horizon. It was the break of dawn. He must have been in the tavern late earlier, for he was only at the Zirnden for a couple of hours to his guessing. The air smelled clean, and Ravenok took a deep breath of the clean air, refreshed after having breathed the sweaty air of the Zirnden for the past couple of hours. He looked at the man who asked him a question,

"None of your damn business." Ravenok responded, now he was looking around in hopes to find the closest inn. He payed no more heed to the man sitting next to the door, who was pretty much asleep when Ravenok responded to him. If he remembered correctly, the tavern he was in earlier had some rooms one could rent for a little while. He decided to just go there, so he walked off, leaving the Zirnden and whatever fools within behind him.

It wasn't long till he found the same tavern again, he had memorized the way when he first walked to the Zirnden. He opened the wooden door slowly, it creaked loudly. The inside was much different then earlier, there weren't as many people inside as before, but there were still some people still drinking with jovial attitudes. Some people even slept on the tables, they looked uncomfortable to Ravenok. Hehe, even the man who had spoken to Ravenok before was fast asleep on the same table that Ravenok left him at. He was glad that the tavern was still open. But he wasn't glad when he took his first whiff of the room. It was rank, just as always, a shame that it couldn't be some sort of "outside" tavern. He wouldn've loved it if he could sleep in the fresh dawn air. But it wasn't allowed in the least. This would have to do.

"Give me one room, just for a while." Ravenok asked the man behind the bar counter in the back, as he walked up to him.

"Just for a while, hm?" Said the bartender, "That'll be five gold pieces there, lad." He smiled, and Ravenok faked a smile back as he dug into his tunic and produced the smaller pouch of gold he had acquired from demolishing the bum back in the Zirnden. He quickly pulled out five gold pieces and tossed them to the bartender, who shoved them into his pocket. He reached beneath the counter and came back up with a small key in his hand, he handed it to Ravenok. "Third one on the left. Best call yourself lucky, that be the last room for the time being!"

Ah, just what Ravenok needed, more luck. He was actually getting rather tired from all this luck stuff, not to mention everyone telling him to consider himself lucky. Ravenok grinned at the bartender as he turned toward the pillar staircase that led upstairs, thoughts in his mind saying that the next man who told Ravenok to consider himself lucky would be knocked out. He assumed that's where the rooms were, for there were none on the ground floor.

The room was small, but Ravenok didn't need it to be any bigger than it was. All it pretty much was was a bed, simple in make and probably hard. Though it would suit Ravenok's needs. A single light source was in the room, being a small lamp which was already lit resting on a small stool in the corner of the room. What a fire hazard. Oh well... Ravenok dove onto the bed, it was hard indeed. Though for how tired Ravenok was, he'd live if he slept for a while on this sheet of wood. He buried his head into the single pillow lying at the head of the bed, which was just pretty much another strip of wood wrapped in cloth. It suited Ravenok's needs, for the time being. He shut his eyes and calmly awaited for sleep to find it's way into his mind. Later he would purchase a ship ride straight to Raiaera, he would get off this hellhole they call Scara Brae, for he was done with it.

[Ravenok Kinnes]

Ravenok didn't know how long he slept exactly, but it didn't feel like long. He was awoken by the extremely loud noise coming from down below. The tavern now seemed alive with noise. The room was dark, there was no window and the lamp had burnt out. Ravenok opened his eyes and all he could see was the line of light coming from beneath the door. He was pretty cold, there was no blanket in the room. He sat up slowly and and blinked several times.

Damn it's loud down there. Ravenok thought to himself as he got out of the uncomfortable bed. His back hurt, and it cracked when he bent it backwards. He still had a tired look on his face when he yawned. He could hear some man talking in one of the adjacent rooms, through the paper-thin walls. He was talking about some type of evil monk dressed in black and what happened when he encountered it. Though it had no significance towards Ravenok. Rather then listen, he opened the door loudly and walked downstairs.

It was crowded already, almost every table was filled with at least one man or woman, drinking their sorrows away. It seemed like it was late already, but he couldn't have slept for that long. The bartender was still the same man who gave him his room key, so Ravenok just walked over there and tossed the key onto the counter in front of him. The bartender nodded and said "Good day." before Ravenok was already on his way outside. He didn't pay any attention to the goings-on in the tavern, he just wanted to get out of here. All he had was a tenday, and he had suspected that the boat trip to Raiaera would be a long one. He had to leave as soon as possible. With that, Ravenok left the tavern, the door was already open as he left, a cold wind blew in at his face. He couldn't see any sunlight.

Had he really slept for that long? It must've been more then twelve hours later! Ravenok couldn't believe how tired he must've been to have slept that long. It was surely dusk, the sun was already setting in the west, all that was left was a beautiful red streak across the horizon. It was still as cold as before, perhaps sometime he should buy some type of jacket when he visits the next shop. He would live for now though.

Ravenok quickly asked a passer-by where the docks were, because Ravenok never kept check where he was already, so he didn't really know where in Scara Brae he was. He was pointed off to the west side of Scara Brae, towards the red horizon. It only took about ten minutes to find the docks, he was glad that he wasn't very far from them. There weren't any commercial ships on the harbor, only several small merchant ships. Perhaps he could find a ride on one of them. It didn't take long to find someone going to Raiaera either.

"Yes, I am going to Raiaera, good sir." The merchant said. He was a pompous man with poorly groomed facial hair and a rat-face. He was wearing a simple cloth jacket with a shirt buttoned underneath, tight-fitting trousers on his legs. He was fairly fat.

"Give me a ride then," Ravenok demanded, "Trust me, I won't be a burden." He was looking at the man's little ship. It looked like there were a couple of others on it, packing their things and getting ready to leave already. Business partners, likely. Still, with the three of them already on the ship, it looked like there was still room for one more.

"Well, I can't be giving you a ride all the way to Raiaera to free, now can I? I'll need a little persuasion, and perhaps we could fit you in."

Ravenok grunted, he didn't want to spend any money. He hadn't spent any money while coming here, so it was all the same when he didn't feel like paying anything to leave. He sighed deeply, and didn't really want to start any conflicts before departure. "Fine... How much then?" Ravenok asked.

"Thirty gold pieces, and we'll take you only as far as the south eastern corner, just above the Red Forest. We'll not take you farther."

Ah, good, just where Ravenok wanted to go. He pulled out the bigger money pouch he had won from the Zirnden and poured out thirty coins onto the merchant's outstretched hand. "Good then, that's just where I planned on going."

"Oh?" The merchant said, pocketing the coins and motioning Ravenok to the ship, "Best consider yourself lucky then."

Ravenok stopped, he clenched his right fist. The merchant noticed that Ravenok stopped and only managed to let out a "What?" before he was his in the face, knocking him flat out. The other two merchants quickly hopped over to the unconcious merchant and picked him up, they tried to tell Ravenok that he wasn't allowed to travel with them anymore but he told them that he had already payed. For that, he was charged an extra five gold pieces. Oh well, he shouldn't have said that phrase, then! He had enough gold to pay, anyway, and he didn't want this trip to be delayed.

They left at once, and Ravenok was put into a small room in the back of the ship, a pile of of bags the only cushion Ravenok was let to use during the trip. It was dark, but they decided to leave anyway, for they had urgent business with some High Elves in Raiaera. Now all Ravenok could do is avoid the three fools and sleep the whole way. It wouldn't be too bad, it cost less than a commercial voyage would be.

It was off to Raiaera, the Darkness Technique awaits.

((Spoils- The Ice Gauntlets Skill:

Type of Manipulation: Ice/water.

Description: Being in a desperate situation during the fight with Seventeen in the Zirnden, Ravenok attempted to literally freeze his own gauntlets that were being grasped by his opponent's bare hands. To his amazement, it worked, but in turnn Ravenok's own hands were turned extremely icy due to the weak ice resistance enchantments on his gauntlets. But because of that small resistance, Ravenok was able to hold out just a bit longer than his opponent, forcing him to let go and throw Ravenok to safety. This technique is good for getting out of tight grasps, but it has a chance of numbing his own hands. (For use temporarily in quests until level up.)

The ten gold pouch from winning the fight with the bum, and the larger pouch from winning the fight with Number Seventeen(preferrably 150-300). A deduction of fourty gold from whatever was in the pouch, from the night in the tavern and the trip on the merchant ship.))

Look for part 2 of the Monotonous Bloodlust series in the Red Forest in Raiaera: "Darkness, Take Me."

[AdventWings]

Hi there, Ravenok! Name's Raven and I'll be your friendly Judge for this solo. I understand this is your first try, so don't despair about the criticism. It's how we use that to improve our writing ability that counts. :)

Story

Continuity - 6/10

You pretty much gave us details and whatnots for being at the Zirnden as well as how the side-trip opened up a new avenue for your story. Still, the way you showed the readers was a bit vague and could use some more work.

Setting - 5/10

You described what the tavern was like and how the people in it were, as well as showing the readers the interior turmoil of the Fighting Arena known as Zirnden. There was not a whole lot of "interaction" with the setting from you for the most part and were fairly sporatic where they were present.

Pacing - 6/10

The story flow was OK for the most part, though recapping the post in the later part of the story broke an otherwise fairly smooth flow. That and the flow of scenes in the battle phase was a bit broken, but the overall flow was well-kept. Some more variety could be used and you should try mixing the action flow up to create a dynamic rise-and-fall of tension.

Writing Style

Mechanics - 5/10

Words of advice:

One - Check the words you are using in the story. The odd-sounding and similarly-spelled words that have radically different meaning can really trip up the reader, especially when the error is glaring and obvious. One instance that really irked me was "...leap to the right side or be mauled down by a tackle..." I think the word you were looking for was mowed down instead. This tiny bits of error can throw the reader out from your story and into the dictionary, especially if the word sounded just a little off.

Two - Don't always trust MS Words to correct your misspelling. It is as notorious for misspells and misuse of words already I only rely it to point out words that it was not familiar with. Trusting your literary instincts may often times be more beneficial to trusting machines, but that's up to the writer to decide. Even machines makes mistakes.

Three - Be on the lookout for fragmented sentences like...


He was small compared to Ravenok, he wore little to no armor.

Where's the linking article? Why did you need to repeat "he" when you could just add "and" as well as doing away with the comma and the second "he" -


He was small compared to Ravenok and wore little to no armor.

Well, the part about "Wearing little to no armor" also jumped out at me. So is he wearing armor or not? That is where you need to refine and rewrite. Don't be shy to go back and edit stuff that had already been done, especially in solo threads. In multiplayer threads, you can rewrite them as long as it does not affect the way the story plays out for the other people replying to your post.

This is one area you could work on the most, with regards to this solo quest.

Technique - 5/10

Not many literary device I could readily see, though I managed to catch a few that add a nice hint of flavor to the story.

Clarity - 5/10

This was mostly negatively affected by the great number of odd-looking sentences and minuscule grammatical errors along the way. Otherwise, it was a rather easy read.

Character

Dialogue - 7/10

The first few ones were not really outstanding and seemed rather generic, but the later ones before your fight with Number Seventeen were pretty good. Nothing outstanding, but good.

Action - 7/10

I expected Ravenok, who you described as being chaotic evil in alignment, to be a tad more ruthless in his actions both on and off the fighting arena. The interaction with NPCs were pretty good and it showed the dark side in Ravenok pretty well.

Personality - 7/10

His internal reaction and thoughts, as well as the way he snidely commented about the novices around him was pretty fitting to the man, though somewhat generic for an inwardly evil person. More depth could be added to his personality, especially how he chose to execute each fighting tactics in the arena so I will leave you to work on that a bit more.

Wild Card

Wild Card - 6/10

You have potential, just make sure you spot the odd words and rearrange your thoughts before posting. Make sure you do some minor research on the subject you were working on. Some things what would seem rather off, at least to me, were:

- How Ravenok managed to "impale" a ball of ice into Seventeen's gut with his guard up. Even if he was in a loose boxing stance, rushing up to Ravenok would mean he's leaning forward, minimizing the attack area that the ice ball could fly through and into his stomach. It would have to pass through his fists or forearms, seeing that they would be the one covering his chest area in a boxing stance.

- Axe-kicking the "shoulderblade" is something that we don't see often, even in the fields of Tae Kwon Do. Normally, the first part of the body to meet an axe-kick in the shoulder area would be the shoulder itself. The Shoulder Blade, otherwise known as the Scapula, is located in the Middle of the Back and particularly hard to hit unless the receiver was "doubled over." In Seventeen's case, that may be it but most people might not be quick to understand.

- You do not need to insert OOC notes and should not even have to add it. An elaborated, well-written description of the pose in action could very well substitute the need for an inserted OOC note that will otherwise halt the entire story flow.

Total - 59!

Ravenok receives 630 EXP and 310 GP from the Zirnden, though after deducting the payment for lodging and the ferry to Raiaera he is left with 270 gold pieces instead.

Ravenok also receives the temporary Chi skill Ice Gauntlets that will be permanently rewarded upon approval by the RoG staff. Contrary to popular belief (mostly by the new people), you may write and submit a Mid-Level Update even if you had not leveled up yet.

[Cyrus the virus]

EXP added!