Of Magic Mix and Doubled Trouble

[Ataraxis]

Closed for Reiko!

It was a long way from the coast to the Citadel’s eminent gates. There she stood, dumbly admiring the fabled indestructibility in its sheer simplicity; Lillian had sought out the historical lore of Corone a few days ago, and had slowly imbibed the contents of a few tomes, learning much of the otiose details, and enough of what bore importance. While it had once endured the onslaught of Demons, it was now the Mecca of mages and warriors alike, a hallowed sanctuary to a score of insatiable combatants, all stemming from each and every region of Althanas. ‘Enough of your musings, Lily,’ she rebuked herself for dawdling when time was of the essence. Sight-seeing, though not at all reprehensible, was not the reason for her coming - although she did dally for a length of time, fishing by the Niema River: she had learned to loathe the practice with every fibre of her being, but at least she had caught what she had come looking for, and had processed the pieces of her haul in accordance to her knowledge, concocting what she disdainfully called the ‘cold-knocker’. Her hand patted the pocket in her gown, feeling through the fabric a cylindrical hardness. Perfect.

The ancient gates yawned wide, ushering in the golden veil of morning, allowing Lillian passage into the nave. Ankle boots rattled over the cold stone slabs that formed the floor of the grand vestibule, each of the girl’s footfalls resounding through the Citadel’s vast interior. On both sides were long aisles of benches where contenders sat, confabulating with acquaintances and utter strangers or staring at their footwear as strategies coursed through their brooding minds. The chattering din had become a wind of its own, blowing about through the aisles and brushing against her skin. A shudder came to her as she felt the forceful glares of men, either amused by her presence, a condescension which made her slightly grit her teeth, or stimulated by her comely physique, which elicited the crawling, creeping feeling beneath her skin she so desperately resented. ‘I really don’t like this place…’ She was clearly nervous, what with her unconscious squirming and the industrious work of her hands over the crimples of her dress.

Making her way down the hallway, Lillian noticed a greater concentration of stern men, swathed in darker robes. These were the monks who tended to the Citadel and guided the fighters to their arenas. She stumbled upon a tall one, towering a few inches above her head. “Um, hello?” She quickly tiptoed his way, hoping to catch up with his long, deliberate strides. She repeatedly rapped at his shoulder, having assumed that a man of his stature would not have reacted to a single tap. “I need a room… I mean, to fight!” Lillian had quickly corrected herself, feeling a surge of blood rushing to her cheeks. “If it’s not too much of a problem…”

The monk regarded her strangely; though his countenance remained solemn and unmoving, a spark of amusement had made its way to his striking green optics. ‘Why do people keep making fun of me?’ A disquieted moue was splayed across her face, the expression only furthering the man’s shrouded hilarity. As he remained silent, the young girl found herself losing her edginess and becoming somewhat skittish. Crossing her arms, she took an impatient carriage, smirking amusedly as the rhythmic tap of her foot resounding lightly in the vicinity. “Well? Should I assume you have taken a vow of silence?”

She couldn’t believe it. The man just walked away! “What nerve!” she muttered under her breath as she followed in his scissoring strides with effort. His path had diverted to one of the innumerable corridors that branched off the vestibule, and as he lead her onward, the garble of conferring warriors quelled, amortized by the winding walls that flanked the pathway. “Where are you taking me?” She called out with a huff, jogging a few feet behind the nonchalant monk. ‘And he makes it look so easy too…’ These monks must have had endurance training, but she reckoned they did not have any in sensibility: her pride was hurt, and her feet would soon hurt more.

‘Praise be to Suravani!’ The monk had stopped before a battered door, offering her time for respite. The jog had almost entered the realm of sprinting, and to undergo physical exertion had never been her forte. Catching her breath, Lillian posed her query in between short wheezes. “Would you… care… to explain… yourself?” Dismissing her question with the slightest of smiles, the monk pushed the door open and crossed the threshold, placing his hand upon the coarse surface to keep it from swinging back and slamming shut in her face. Seeing no other alternative, Lillian complied and stepped over the doorsill, her eyes setting upon a strange spectacle.

Grinding gears and spinning sprockets. There were no walls, the room seeming the stretch into an infinite darkness. Only brass cogs blown out of proportion, tens of revolving platforms linked to one another, could be seen. Steam hissed far below, disclosing the location of this massive arena’s mechanism, and there metal clanked loudly at isochronous intervals, perfectly synchronized to the rotation of the many axes. “This looks like the inside of a timepiece…” She tentatively padded forward, but almost tripped as the metallic wheel dragged her right foot away. Gathering her courage, she rushed the unmoving platform and bounded high, landing clumsily a few feet short from the first axis. To tread softly was the rule of thumb here; one blunder and she would easily see her foot hacked off by the grinding teeth of the machinery, or fall for what could possibly be hundreds of feet until she touched solid ground – the prospect alone sent shivers down her back. Her wispy arms lashed around the thick, brass pole, and as she sought the monk, she plodded sideways and counter clockwise, for dialogue would otherwise become overly complicated. “If a woman with big furry ears and nine silver-tipped tails comes by, could you possibly tell her to come here?”

Without a word, but with a nod, the monk vanished behind the closing door. Lillian blinked, letting herself spiral on the strange merry-go-round, listening intently to the cranking noises. “Were we supposed to meet here in the morning or at night?” Her laughter sparkled over the clanking racket, her unfailing mind fully aware of the answer. 'Let’s just hope she remembers just as well…'

[Reiko]

Ki wasn’t too fond of the Citadel for some reason. The place just seemed to be for entertainment of people who wanted too fight but didn’t want to risk their own lives. It was a hobby for people who wanted to feel brave, though some claimed training, it just wasn’t much of a learning experience when things just weren’t the way they were in the real world, it wasn’t much different than practicing with wooden swords to Ki.

But the Citadel was an important piece to Corone. The large stone structure seemed to be the number 1 reason to come to the large island; it surely wasn’t the drinks, which tasted only a little better than Aleraran brew, which worked better for lighting lanterns.

Doji had come for her new employer Rajani and the Peregrine Group. This wasn’t some random act of violence or some feud, this was a job and the fox girl wanted it to be steady as she was able to eat well almost everyday and so she would go to the Citadel for her boss.

Though She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for, the girl she needed to meet was no where to be found among the usual oafs that flooded the place to experience a fight for the sake of a fight. Time to ask a Monk.

Ki smiled as she started to look for one of the motley mystics of war though she found herself looking at the statues of heroes, probably made up since she never heard of any of them. The women statues all had the same physique of big chests and small waists that the ronin kitsune couldn’t imagine having. Even Kadenzaa never had them that large when she was pregnant. Someone should have told the sculptor to have a do over for realism and variety. I bet I could take these guys blindfolded. Wait, keep your mind focused, you have a job to do.

“Hey Mister Monk!” Ki called out and waved. “I’m supposed to meet someone, she wanted to have a lesson from a legendary swordswoman.” The vixen smiled as a monk came to her, his eyes looking over the body.

“Well I can see why you’re legendary, there must have never been a swordswoman as funny looking as you.” The monk said in the typical monk monotone, probably laughing on the inside.

“I umm… That’s not nice!” Was all Ki could retort, she wasn’t the cleverest of kitsune and the insult had caught Ki off guard and devastated her composure. “If you want a fight, I’ll be happy to help.” Ki practically growled, not regaining her composure in a way that she wanted or needed.

“My lady, you are forbidden to harm us and we are forbidden to harm you. Anyways there was a girl looking for a funny looking girl with your quirks.”

Doji stayed quiet and followed into the battleground where she would meet this girl. Thankfully that monk left her to go in alone. The room was constantly moving in a mechanical way. Most the place was made of spinning wheels with teeth that Ki remembered as gears, though she never saw them this large. Thankfully the main platform was a larger gear that spun slowly, some of the smaller ones would leave her dizzy.

The ronin girl looked out and flicked her nine tails and smiled. If she was here under normal circumstances, Ki would’ve been insulted to be facing a girl that looked nothing like a fighter. But there was a reason for this and so Ki didn’t mind. She simply bowed and smiled at the other girl. “Hi, I’m Doji Ki. I believe you have something for me before we get started.”

[Ataraxis]

‘Cuts to the chase, doesn’t she?’ Such straightforwardness on her accomplice’s part was to be expected, but Lillian had not wished for their first meeting to be this formal. Upon the rotating platform, the young girl kept moving against the circling motion so as to greet the woman face to face. “Good morning! My name is Lillian, Lillian Sesthal.” Somehow, ‘good morning’ seemed inappropriate in such circumstances, as the awareness of her internal clock was something she could easily dismiss. Letting go of the brazen pole, she bounced toward the feline woman, her gait now steady and confident upon the moving disk, her mind having prodigiously grown accustomed to it; her strides had a slanted quality to them, and her advance was perfectly linear. As she neared her, Lillian beamed a kind smile, ignoring the hissing of steam pipes down below. “Yes, I brought what was necessary.” With the rustling of cloth, she produced a small vial the size of her index, inside which a purplish solution sloshed, its hues glinting an array of blacks and dark blues as the amateur potion maker handed it to Doji. “The dosage was lowered as a precaution: it will have the same properties, but the effects will not last as long.” A frown marred her delicate face, anger seeping into her ghastly blue eyes as she recalled its making. ‘I’m never trying my hand at potions ever again…’

The sun rose lazily, painting the skies a sullen pink. Sparrows chirruped in the canopies overhead as the rosy light permeated the hanging green foliage. Not far off in an open glade, Lillian was at work, feverishly staring at a crucible, its contents boiling a sanguineous red. ‘So far, so good…’ A sudden burst of green smokes shook her to a stand, and, cupping her hands, she quickly shielded her mouth and nose from the volatile substance. When the puffing miasma had quelled, becoming no more than a surface mist, the girl leaned over the pot, eyeing its contents with hesitance; the liquid had become a sort of green goo, bubbling squamously as a running black fluid oozed from the gelatine. ‘That’s disgusting!’ She squinted her eyes and puckered her lush lips as she took the marmite by its handles, once again obliged to dump the failed concoction in the river. Five times already had the mixture been an utter failure; the process required over three quarters of an hour of simmering, and she would soon dawn on her fourth hour. This was the result of following instructions to the letter without any prior training in the science of potions. All she had to go on was three pages from a shady book she had read three years ago; of course, her mind had recorded the contents perfectly, thanks to her fabulous gift of photographic memory, an inherent ability that had come with her begetting. ‘Maybe it came with a handbook, which had all those nifty pictures and tricks …I bet that would help.’

The clouds now wore a sheen of gold and the chilling air of the previous night was slowly receding. Lillian’s eyes were glazing as her glass dirk punctured the belly of a bloated fish. All of this was for a good cause, and only that could spur her on. ‘You have to do this, Lily… They’re all counting on you.’ Swallowing the ball in her throat, she squished the piscine carcass, drawing its fluids out like water from a sponge. The stream of red and black splashed along the pot’s bottom, sizzling as the fires beneath roared anew. ‘Sixth time’s the charm…’ The sarcasm amused her, shedding a moment of hope in her heart. Water, ground herbs and forty-five minutes of stirring with a wooden spoon; she was repeating the process once more, but this time, she had prayed. It wasn’t in her habits to ask for divine intervention, but considering the import of her mission and her current progress, a little prod in the right direction couldn’t hurt. A burst of lavender and a mephitic odour surged from the cauldron, signs that the brew had been successful. “Oh good! Now I don’t have to go looking for an eye of newt, or a rabbit’s paw!” From her knapsack, she drew a sieve, a funnel and two small vials, before filtering the caliginous substance and funnelling the filtrate into the translucent containers. With a victorious grin, she gathered her effects and schlepped them all the way from the Niema River to Radasanth.

Relieved of the blasted potion, Lillian felt a welcome sense of satisfaction lighten her heart. From now on, she would kindly refuse anything that had to do with gutting fish - or any other repulsive task, for that matter. Hopefully, the Peregrine Group would soon hire a real apothecary, and she would be allowed to delegate such chores to someone who actually made potions for a living. A loud clang woke her from her daze, and she was reminded that they were brought here to do battle. Would the monks know if they stayed put and waited? It was probably best to stage a fight and actually make it seem like she had the upper hand on this Doji Ki, but doing so would be extremely difficult, and in any other situation, utterly impossible. “Well,” she began, whispering, in case the monks had means to eavesdrop on the two women. “We should probably make this look as real as possible. I’ll let you start.” Twice she leapt backwards, distancing herself from the oddly-garmented woman with a grace and swiftness of which she had never thought herself capable. The folds of her gown moved against the sway of her hips as she took a fighting stance, drawing the glossy blue knife that dangled from her waist. “It is an honour to fight you, miss Ki! I will make this worth your while.” The call was forceful, yes, but persuasive enough to expunge all suspicion as to their objective.

[Reiko]

Wow, this girl was sure interesting. Good morning in mid afternoon seemed rather odd to Ki but Lillian did get her part of the job done and produced the poison. The fox girl stretched her tails as she looked at the vial. The liquid hardly looked dangerous, Ki half expected it to bubble constantly or glow a bright purple for the strange effect it would have and instead it look no worse than sake.

Of coarse the young human girl mentioned the particulars on how it would work and safety measures. Still if she messed up here then dealing with the monk would not work out since she would truly need there help, at least it was in the Citadel and even the most powerful poison imaginable wouldn’t put the nine tails out of commission for too long.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hold back too much.” Doji winked with a smile as she gauged the other girl’s stance. Not bad, Ki thought as she nodded in approval. It was an effective stance for a knife wielder and proved that this woman was more dangerous than she looked. Ki drew the Onitachi and looked at the evil blade. No it was not fair, sure this girl looked ready for a scuffle but Ki was a powerful samurai and the cursed blade would mean slaughter, Doji then droved the demon sword right into the gear, embedding the katana.

“Well here’s to a good fight.” Doji made a cheers motion with the vial of poison before drinking it. Poisons did not work right away and so it was probably the best time to down the drink. Making a face that she had just drank urine Ki conjured an iron katana to fight with in place of the Onitachi.

It was time to begin for real. Ki had to be careful since her fighting style wasn’t easy to fake like Corone rapier, which swashbucklers could fake for the theatre easily. The katana was not a fencing blade to wear down the opponent but a killing blade, add that to Ki’s speed then the other girl better have more to fighting than a good stance. Doji came forward with a straightforward cut that would probably send her opponent back a little, it might be fatal if the opponent over dodged and went off the gear, though the other gears lower down would save her.

[Ataraxis]

As much as she had thought herself ready, the blur of a fox woman in possession of a keen edge made her heart skip a beat, and her faux opponent had hied the assault so promptly that Lillian’s mind had ground to a stop, perhaps only for an instant, but one that had proven to be crucial. The curved blade struck the glass poniard with a vengeance, almost knocking it out of the feeble girl’s lax grip, but the bulk of the energy transferred to her small body, driving her over five feet back. "Eek!" She yelped as she teetered on the outer rim of the oversized gear, staring down her back at the gaping abyss, praying for poise as she fought the rotation. Relief came as she steadied herself, and when the portion of the platform upon which she stood came in junction with a thicker wheel, she leapt, getting a hold of the dented ledge and swung herself up with unnatural elegance. ‘I’m a fool for thinking that I could stand a chance against her; especially since she’s brandishing that foreign sword, while I’m handling a glass toothpick. I need to keep my distance.’ There was little she could do; in fact, she had only one alternative, and being forced to use it displeased her quite a bit.

Black radiance lit the core of her mind, sparkling obscurely from the alien crystal it harboured. A hand dove into the black sea, ghost fingers tearing through the thick waters as they sought its cold warmth, but as the crystalline surface offered no resistance, they plunged into its ethereal flesh, reaching for the violet orb that was its heart and enclosing it within their gentle grip. Lillian pulled back, drawing a fragment of the seething power out from its shell, back to the surface, back to the outer realm, where unseen pipes hissed scalding steam and many gears groaned as they revolved restlessly. Aglow was her hand, releasing a shade of… pink. ‘Well this is odd…I wonder what it’ll do this time…’ In answer to her query, a great rift bored its way through space, hollowing out the void overhead and replacing it with a similar hue of faded salmon. A rumbling noise roared in the distance, but it loomed closer and closer, until she recognized the rush of raging waters. "This isn’t good!"

Pink water gushed from the wound in space, raining down upon the spinning gears with a splash. Lillian fled to the center of the wheel and clung onto the brazen pole with all her might, not wishing to be flushed away over the edge. The dimensional gash healed, effectively stopping the strange waters from funnelling through any further, but the damage had been done; both fighters were soaked to the skin, their clothes now dyed a faint pink, and the surface of the gears had become hazards to both their lives, as any misstep would send them careening through the air and down to a most agonizing crash. Lillian shivered slightly, feeling the cold seep into her bones as she began a musical chatter of teeth. ‘Where on Althanas could there be pink water?’ Only then did she notice a particular fragrance, dancing into her nostrils. 'Is that peony?'

[Reiko]

Ouch, I better be more careful; Ki reprimanded herself as she watched the dagger-wielding girl recover from the blow and keeping a safe distance. It was probably best to close in for the kill before Doji’s opponent could get a strategy but the vixen was in no rush for she was going to lose anyways. Good thing she put the Onitachi down and didn’t use it; that blade would probably have cut right through the knife for a killing blow. And the battle barely even started.

Lillian seemed to be summoning forth some sort of spell. Doji wasn’t terribly worried what the human girl was going to do, the fox ronin had defenses against magic and was quick enough to avoid some nasty spells if she was ready and magic almost always had signs that would tell when it would go off.

“Wh, what are you Doing?” Doji yelped as the spell started to reveal it’s strange effects, surprising the samurai girl quit a bit. The who gear like room smelled like flowers, then Doji could point out the fake preserving chemicals with it. And with that, cheap perfume started to rain down as if the inventory of all the brothels in Corone wanted to drown the two girls in their scented liquids.

The turning gear became slippery and Ki had to grab hold of the Onitachi to keep from getting washed away with the pink fluid. The scent was soon overwhelming Ki’s sensitive nose. Her head was light and she wanted to throw up but had to hold it down for the poison to take affect. Once the rain was over and everything was slick and smelling sickeningly sweet, Ki got up and used her tails to keep fro careening over.

“Ack I can’t smell a thing and it’ll take forever to clean my kimono.” The irritated vixen complained as she readied her sword again, the lightheaded feeling making her a little more clumsy than usual. Perhaps it was the poison working its magic. Still the fox girl was rather angry and wanted to return the favor, hopefully the other girl would learn a lesson on fighting from this.

Once her offensive stance was ready. Ki went forward with the iron blade again. This time she wouldn’t be easy, give the girl a real test of her fighting abilities. Doji might be dizzy but her form seemed to steady as she went on the attack again. The conjured sword making a downward slice and then following in quick twist of the blade for a low strike at Lillian’s leg. It was a vicious move that would leave the unskilled minus a leg and those that didn’t avoid enough to be heavily slowed. The fight would look real enough.

[Ataraxis]

The Fur People do not dramatically differ from humans insofar as their physique (though perhaps standing a bit shorter), save for the furred and protrusive ears that habitually crest their heads and the presence of at least one caudal appendage, a fully vertebrate extension of their coccyx. They appear innocuous at first, no less hapless than their insentient counterparts; however, their soft and cuddly appearance belies both animosity and a potential lethality, for they are, as humans, gifted with opposable thumbs and are thus apt in the manipulation of tools, if not more so due to their inherent agility and dexterity. Moreover, they are endowed with an augmented sense of smell, to the point that excessive odours can cause nausea, dizziness, headaches and irritation of the nose; they are inclined to assume animus in such events, and can even take on a violent behaviour and cause harm to the source of their annoyance…

Forever etched in the reference work of her brain from this moment onward, this introductory passage to her newest article, ‘The Furry Folk: of Canine and Felines’ would bring her much wisdom in the future and provide her with a security net if she was ever again to deal with Doji Ki’s kin. The aromatic fumes she had summoned forth irked the fox girl; she was now skipping over the pinkish puddles, the splashes of her feet a quickening rhythm, and she was ready to hack at Lillian’s leg, vying for a vengeance she could only qualify as a bit excessive. “Wait! Wait!” A third plea was underway, but Doji Ki was already upon her, bringing the vicious blade down to a low-swinging arc. ‘Is this woman crazy? It was an accident!’

Overtaken with a strange sensation, her body responded on its own, the reflex swifter than she had thought humanly possible. Her boots had kicked and slipped, sending her feet swinging behind as she fiercely held onto the pole, which shook as the ring of Ki’s blade spread upon collision, its edge now embedded in the thick, iron shaft. It was slick, and she felt her grip loosen, but she stubbornly hung on as her waist jerked sideways and spun around the axle, sending her feet in a new trajectory for the irate hellcat’s face.

“Oops!” She had unknowingly released the shaft, and this blunder was the cause of her worrisome squeal. Whizzing past the fox woman, Lillian cried out for help, but none came as she crashed behind her opponent and skittered over the rolling gear in loud splatters. In a desperate act for survival, she tightly gripped her Cillu dirk and brought it down with the sum of her strength, hoping to drive it in the giant sprocket and stop her slide toward a deadly fall. How regrettable that the whole of her strength ultimately amounted to very little, and that not only had the glass tip bounced over the hard surface, but it had also flown out of her grip, the recoil far too strong for her feeble hands. Barely had she winced that her body became light, so light she felt it soar; and soar it did – if only for a fleeting second. ‘What do you know? I am so incompetent that I’ll actually die before she does. For real, no less.’

The feeling of her back ribs being crushed under her own weight had never been so welcome. Only a few feet beneath the main platform was another, almost as wide and far drier. She had skidded twice before hitting the axle, leaving behind a trail of rosy. Against it her back was propped, sore and burning. Her body was soaked through and through, and it smelled too much of cut-price perfumes. ‘But I’m alive.’ A wan smile tugged at her lips, from which trickled down a red rivulet. Lillian was hurt badly, and was no longer sure if standing up was reasonable, but she tried nonetheless. The effort sent shivers throughout, painfully numbing her slender legs and willowy arms, but against all odds, she managed to heave herself up.

“It’s not ov…” A searing pain tore up her throat and she coughed viscidly, tainting her pale fingers a vivid crimson. “It’s not over yet,” she called out, loud enough for Doji Ki to hear, but still somewhat meek. When she had retaliated moments before, she had been so stunned by her blunder that she had not paid attention to her counter, and was unsure whether she had utterly missed the fox’ face, struck it, or at least nicked it. “Care to settle the score?” Somehow, taunting the fox girl invigorated her, and she was slowly shedding away the husk of fear she had brought to battle… “And, um… care to bring me back my dirk? If… if it’s not too much trouble?" … but old habits really do die hard.

[Reiko]

Ki had lost her cool; partially do to the fumes messing with her head and the poison working through her bloodstream. But losing her cool still led to a near disaster and it frustrated the vixen causing her make a screaming growl midway through her attack. Thankfully the woman she was fighting had more surprises, a really advanced evasion that had a counter at the end that threatened to break the fox girl’s nose but another surprise was that Lillian overshot and let go, completely missing and doing more harm to herself than Doji’s body.

But it wasn’t that she didn’t do any damage to Ki, The vixen had a lo of power in the swing and when the conjured katana contacted the iron rod that held the gear that they were fighting on, it got stuck. Without a thought the vixen samurai wrenched the blade out but the clacking of metal surprised the ronin, for that signaled the sword had broken in half.

Ki might have cursed her lack of skill in fox magic for making such a cheap blade, but she just wasn’t thinking much, the logical parts of the mind were hibernating to try and minimize damage from the overdose of perfume and the toxin that was threatening her body.

Still there were flashes of actual thought in Ki’s head when she looked to see the other girl was hurt from the failed counter. Her glass blade was pretty close to Ki, no wonder she asked for the blade back. One side of the fox girl, a side that was concerned only with survival was tempted to flick the blade as a throwing knife and pretty much end the other girl. But that one thought of such a dishonorable act made Ki shake her head and get a hold of her self.

“Oh yeah…the dagger.” Ki said, as she looked at the crystal blade, very beautiful and deadly, a rare weapon. After inspecting the knife, Ki slid it to her opponent, if she were going to fight on it wouldn’t be in a disgraceful way like she was moments from doing.

But the samurai fox’s head was light and her legs were buckling, threatening to give way on the slick and smelly surface. “I, I guess you win…” Ki yielded as she tried to bow in defeat, but instead fell face first to the hard floor. The poison won out.

But she wasn’t dead or her spirit could hear the working of the gears and the other machines in the room. But Ki could not move and felt numb all over, she didn’t feel her heart or lungs working, nor could she hear them. To the outside world she was as good as dead.

(I figured it would be a good time to bring in the monk, Ki will be able to get up shortly in the next post but she’ll be pretty weak.)

[Ataraxis]

The glass dirk tumbled over itself in a blue spiral, falling from the platform overhead, and was alarmingly on a curved course for Lillian’s forehead. Fearing an impending impalement, she squealed and drew back, a hand swiftly sweeping through the air, deftly catching the weapon’s haft, much to the girl’s everlasting awe. Far and wide in bewilderment did her eyes grow when the weapon twirled between thumb and fingers with the sleight of a magician’s hand, only to settle inside the crook of an expert grip. “Seriously, what in the moon’s name was that?” Her astonishment was cut short when the fox woman’s passed out, her body against the metal a dim clank akin to a tolling bell. ‘She’s… out?’ Even with a squinted gaze, she could make nothing of Doji Ki’s situation, but the silence was enough to ascertain that the poison had succeeded in its task. Rather than dumbly waiting where she stood, Lillian made her way up a flight of gears with a few hops and a good deal of serpenting, wary not to trip or slip over the pink-glazed steps.

“Oh yes, that’s a very lifelike death, if I’ve ever seen one.” Did that sound right? The young girl shrugged, looking down at the breathless body at her feet. “Well… I know what I mean. Now come on, Lily, what are you going to say?” Nervously she nibbled at a thumbnail, her lithe shape squirming uneasily. She had known all along what her mission entailed, but only now did the full force of its importance come to hit her square in the face. No amount of prodigious memory or encyclopedic knowledge, worldly or otherwise, would help her overcome the indestructible wall that was her timidity. ‘A greeting’s always nice, right? Should I try small talk? About how nice the weather is? Oooh, but I don’t know what the weather’s like right now, I’m trapped in a giant timepiece for Suravani’s sake!’ Her chaotic musings ended with the distant jingle of a doorknob. Jittering in anxiety, Lillian watched the wooden door creak open. ‘No, I’m not ready yet!’

A tall specimen of a monk, green of glare with a shock of tawny hair, entered the arena. ‘It’s him!’ It was indeed the same monk who had previously ushered her in the arena; the same, mocking, infuriating and unorthodoxly delightful monk. Dumbstruck, the girl waved laxly, the surprise having somehow muted her. The young monk noticed her beckon, and his gaze grew confused, neck pulled back slightly in a double take. It broke her daze, the look of surprise a leering insult that thoroughly wounded her pride. “Did… Did you actually expect to find my dead body when you walked in here?” It seemed that knowledge and memory fell a gaping distance behind the wondrous work of anger and indignation; Lillian was now hollering viciously, on the verge of casting curses of which even the darkest of writers shied away. The monk had a quality in him that brought the worse in the poor little girl, and with blinking, flabbergasted eyes, he had come to realize it firsthand. Blood rushed her face when her brain began registering her words, and she quickly clasped their outlet shut, mortified by such an acerbic behavior. “Ah… oh, I… I apologize. Um, hello. A… a fine morn- evening, isn’t it?”

‘There you go Lily. Now whatever you say cannot possibly be worse than that. Oh wait, why don't you ask if he still lives with his parents? You know, make this awkward for all of us.’ The monk regarded her strangely, but stepped onward from the small, stone platform, adamant on seeing to his duties to the end. The massive gears ground to stop, silenced as were the steampipes and machinery, the result of some magical intervention on his part. Moments later, he stood before the two women and the strength of youth had driven the flush of his cheeks. Two shapely, comely, soaked women, smelling of the slums best brothels. Didn’t that deserve a round of prayers? Hacking a loud cough, he turned his head and kneeled, desperately trying to find a spot on the vixen’s body where he could press his hands without guilt and shame. “O-Oh! Wait! Sir… monk!” Mimicking him, she fell to her knees with a small ‘squish’ and tugged at his robes to stop him. “We need to discuss something.” Already had his glare grown suspicious.

“You see, I didn’t come here to do battle: I assume you were aware of this, seeing how stunned you were to see miss Ki lolling there, lifeless. To be perfectly honest, miss Ki was willing to make the sacrifice, so that I could ask you a favor… and I will not lie, it is no small one.” The monk perked an eyebrow, still cautious, but he couldn’t hide he was intrigued. “As you already know, a group called The Entrepeneurs has recently declared hostilities with the Citadel. It began by arbitrarily imposing taxes on the resurrections and threatened to kill those who did not consent to their levy. That was, um, before the Ai’Bron monks dispatched of the small band of soldiers it sent, of course.

“Regrettably, I believe the imposed tax was only a pretext to spark a conflict, and by slaying off the Entrepreneur’s goons, the monks have answered the challenge. There is… a war looming closer, and I cannot say who will be the victor. I have no doubt in your strength, but I know nothing of theirs. What I do know is that deaths will come abounding, striking indiscriminately, and that many will not be graced with a second chance at life.”

How she had put words to her feelings was mystery unto itself. During the short pause, she peered into the monk’s eyes, hoping to see understanding, but all she saw was a steady attention, veiled by a glow of sternness. “This will definitely sound strange, but I need your help. We all do. If the Entrepreneurs are successful…” The monk was no fool. There was no need for her to state the obvious. It would be the end of the Ai’Bron. “In the eventuality of a defeat, we will need someone with the power of resurrection. I am sorry to ask you this, but your help is essential. As I’ve said, this is no small favor I’m– ”

Deception.

“What?” The air had stilled, stiff and foreboding. It echoed, bellowed in the depths of her mind, a word that carried the weight of unfathomable anger. The monk rose ever so slowly, deep rucks marring his once solemn countenance, his emerald eyes burning black as they stared down at Lillian as if she were a pack of gnats upon phlegm. “Did you just… in my head? What’s going on here?”

You speak like an innocent, but only deception spills from your ungodly maw. When I had first seen you, I thought you to be pure: how naïve of me. Again, my youth has deceived me, but nevermore: I now see clearly through your artifices. You are the enemy, just another cozening devil in a maiden’s guise.

“No! You’re wrong, I’m not one of them!” The situation had gone for the worst. In an instant she reviewed her soliloquy, finding weak parts here and there, but nothing to tear the usually-placid man off his hinges. “I really do need your help! I’m not deceiving you! If we let them– ”

Enough of your lies. I will not be swayed, and never shall I be the coward to betray his ilk, is brothers, for a perfect stranger! What a fool you are for thinking otherwise! Now, I will dispose of you, and your friend. My only regret is that your sentence will be a lesson learned for no one but your festering corpses. But no matter, I doubt your accomplices would learn from your deaths; these Entrepreneurs seem to be quite witless since they chose to send you here.

Slamming a sandal against the stopped sprocket upon which they stood, his nostrils flared and steamed. The whole structure of the arena quaked, the gears coming to life as they hurtled themselves up and down as if pulled and pushed by springs unseen and spun at sporadic speeds, one moment almost idle, the other a blur of brass that threatened to fling Doji Ki’s body into the chasm below. Lillian struggled to adapt, but this was nothing like before; unless enlightened with a miraculous plan, she would not last long, and neither would her partner. Her newest opponent, though, fared disturbingly well under these unnatural circumstances, so well in fact that he was already bringing down a bulky arm to bash the girl off the brazen saucer.

‘And here I thought things could not go worse. Bravo, Lily, this calls for a standing ovation. You actually ticked him off.’ Leaping inward to evade the blow and find shelter around the axle, Lillian screamed with disarray, calling the fox woman back from the land of the dead, if she had not already become a permanent resident. “KI! UP! NOW!”

[Reiko]

Ki laid there wondering if in a dream, was Lilly talking to her; she was saying the strangest thing. Doji regretted taking this job when she thought that maybe the girl was mad, though the fox ronin hardly knew the monk was there and speaking through telepathy and soon Ki felt like the whole world was spinning a hundred times faster.

“KI! UP! NOW!”

The scream seemed to have a strange response for the samurai fox allowing her to open her eyes and feel her tails tingle as they wiggled for blood flow. Doji felt a pain in her head and her stomach felt like it was boiling the remains an acid slime monster. “Ugh, no more training mommy, I don’t feel very well.” Doji said upon awakening, as Inari’s side must have been the one that made her say that since Kit never knew her mother.

The world was indeed spinning, and it made the vixen’s belly even more upset and worse the centrifugal force as making her prone body slide to the edge. The brain woke up a little more and Ki yelped while grabbing hold of a groove in the gear.

What? You’re not Dead? The monk communicated without moving his mouth and into Doji’s head.

“Of coarse not!” The swordswoman said as she went on her knees to look at the robed figure, approaching in battle stance and with balance that showed an affinity for the void. Some how it was rather shameful to Ki that the human had a greater tune to the void than she, a nine-tailed fox and something that one should call a goddess of the void and yet Ki was far from it. A Reiko Nine tails that was pretty much a great swordswoman but still mortal.

The monk went into attack mode making a kick to Ki’s face but still Doji shifted her head to avoid it and lunged for the Onitachi, the spinning was making her sick and the slick floor threatened to either land Doji on her tails or worse and falling off to her doom. Once she reached the blade for an anchor, she grabbed on and would plan her next move.

Sadly the spinning and her stomach’s condition simply made her vomit and hold on to the blade for dear life while the monk came in a again, punching the ronin for a solid blow causing Ki to spit out some blood and thankfully no teeth. Still another one would be a problem so Doji worked hard to concentrate, a hard task and conjured up some foxfire. The burst of blue flame forced the monk to retreat enough away that Doji could catch her breath.

“Hey Lilly, I… I think. We might… Will have to work together.” Ki said as she did her best to stand up. But the spinning made her fall to her knees again to stay on the gear, using the blade to hold her still. Something had to be done about the rapid rotation if Ki was going to fight, her body just felt too ill from the after effects of the poison and still occurring effects of the perfume, the spinning was overkill for the fox girl.

[Ataraxis]

For a moment the fluids in her ears had sloshed so violently that the mechanical environment had gone topsy-turvy, her vision turning upside down and registering a blur of ruddy robes hopping down and back up the whirling ceiling, brandishing a steady fist that sought a home in her tender flesh. It struck true, almost driving through her sternum to puncture her heart, but in an amazing strike of luck had her body retreat prior to contact, the backward motion dampening the blow and sparing her ribcage. Much to her regret, the pain would have been lesser had she been killed; her lips were now lush with color, each of her coughs spurting more blood. If she wasn’t already at her limit when Doji had fallen prey to the poison’s fangs, she was now. Echoes of a familiar voice filled her mind, suggesting teamwork, but Lillian could not answer through the thick coat of blood that clogged her throat. ‘He really… tried to kill me?” The young girl could not suppress the anger and disarray of betrayal, even though to the monk, it was she who was the traitor. She was edging to the borders of the metal top, the recoil of the strike having made a synergic alliance with its ludicrous rotation. When the gears suddenly decelerated, Lillian stuck close to the surface so as to avoid being flung over and to her bosom she had applied her fingers, their tips glinting a furious black.

Threads of black light sewed through her skin, coiling around what was the keystone of her thorax. Not far was an internal gash stitched closed, denying exit to her blood and successfully stopping the hemorrhage. With the flick of her wrists, the threads tautened and were clipped from her fingers, their ends magically tying into nooses that would disallow any dangerous displacement of flesh or bone. Her wounds were far from healed and the pain was barely attenuated, but she no longer feared the threat of choking on her own crimson fluids. Hacking what remained in her gullet, she perked tired eyes above her, wondering by what providence she was bestowed the time to cast her spell. In wearied astonishment, they met worrisome green eyes, staring down at a crawling Lillian with an air of… regret. Though his fist had been ruthless, the emerald orbs were twisted with pity and remorse. “I… am not… your enemy…” Her voice was raspy and languid, which made it that much more difficult for the monk to carry out his next assault.

I cannot know that - and even if I did, I could still not abandon my brothers.

She knew that. The kick was swift, but it lacked the resolve his initial blow exuded. Holding down her stomach, she reached out to him once more, not once having broken contact with his eyes. “I know that… you are not… mine...” Another boot dug into her abdomen, weaker than the last. “…And you know… who is yours.” The monk must have noticed his resolution was dwindling, and had forcefully struck her harder. Breathing had become a stinging labor and her mind was misted, blurring as oxygen became lacking… but an all-consuming fire blazed in her glacial eyes when the next strike came down. Taking advantage of the accelerating rotation of the platform, she booted herself up and jarred into the monk with a strength that her size belied, ramming him into the axle.

“I can’t run the risk of you dying. If that means we have to knock you out, then so be it! KI!” With all her might, she immobilized the monk, tears welling as he tried to pummel his way out of her death grip. She would not let go until Doji Ki intervened, and an unknown spell was also underway, fizzling blue around her spindly white hands. ‘If I’m lucky– ’

She wasn’t. The cobalt sizzle faded in a wisp of smoke. ‘It backfi– ’ A small deflagration of electricity struck her hands, breaking her hold on the monk and propelling her back, arms seething thin vapors as they sparkled with leftover electricity. Not only was the monk unscathed, but he was now free to counter what the nine-tailed swordswoman had in store for him.

[Reiko]

“Please stop spinning!” Doji pleaded the world and the fast whirling sound of the gears stopped but as far as the dizzy fox girl was concerned it hadn’t stopped enough. There wasn’t any way for her to fight at the moment and from the sounds that crossed Ki’s ears she needed to fight now.

Lilly was getting her ass kicked by the monk and the fox ronin knew the sorceress wasn’t able to handle much of the thrashing. Ki forced her self onto her feet and staggered towards the two hoping to play hero but she was too slow, normally the vixen could fight off a warrior of that skill, especially since he was unarmed and even with the skill in martial arts, Doji’s swordsmanship was good enough to still have the advantage.

But being dizzy and sick made the kitsune bushi more capable of vomiting on the man than gutting him. And the job meant for the monk to be taken alive, fat chance of that.

But a ray of hope came when Lillian summoned magical energies of some kind of spell to hold the monk at bay, Ki just needed to whack him with the Onitachi’s Saya and knock him out, yet there was one problem and the monk was free and Lilly was choking on her own powers.

“Hey, leave her alone!” Ki said trying to sound tough and mostly sounded like a drunken heroin chasing some pervert away from her favorite waitress. But it still brought angry eyes from the monk on her.

The monk came strong, leading with a flying kick as an opening that would silence Ki for a while if it hit true. But Ki concentrated, doing her best to ignore the spinning and the chasm in her stomach. She was a good enough fighter to avoid it and she was going to prove it and she would. But not with the grace that was typical of the nine tails that simply slipped and slipped to the ground causing the monk to fly over.

Still the monk landed, slipped and fell but was back on his feet ready to stomp in Doji’s face, Any final words before you pay the ultimate price for your treachery. the monk said to Ki’s mind before bringing his foot down in hopes to crush Doji’s skull. But thankfully the nine tails defended her self by grabbing the monk’s foot and tripping him. Ki moved away and glad she wasn’t as dizzy anymore but that was close. “Any Idea how I can take him down without killing him?” Doji asked as she looked at the monk. Best leave the reasoning to Lilly at the moment since the fox girls brain still wasn’t all there yet and was barely capable of fighting.

[Ataraxis]

It was hard to reply through the convulsions of her body, still twitching with remnants of the sizzling surge. Taking comfort in the moderately slow rotation of the gear, she successfully drew herself to a stand, though she had wobbled all the way up. Her insides cried torture, her ribs burned as if they were fuming coals and she wondered if the thick draft in the back of her mouth was bile or more blood. How she could still stand – no, breathe, was a mystery unto itself, for anyone of common constitution would have fallen prey to the monk’s expert strikes in the earliest stages of the scuffle. Lillian was, quite clearly, at the paroxysm of ill health, and was more like pounded flesh mashed together into what should have been a comely adolescent, yet regrettably spackled with red stains and darkening ecchymoses. ‘And I’m sodden through and through...’ she added wearily, feeling her consciousness slip, piece by piece. ‘Wait...’

Hanging on to clarity by a single thread, Lillian watched the tall man battle on with the nine-tailed woman, making out his shapes through the blur of his movements and that of her failing eyes. Her gaze was then reoriented to the moving disk beneath, which she noticed was almost completely dry, and the only thing that could attest to the pink that had flooded it before was the lingering smell of discount perfumes. ‘Just a bit... I just need a bit...’

“Hey!” she hollered meekly as she hopped from gear to gear, strained by the irregularity of their movements and the nearing limits of her body. “I understand your reluctance to leave...”

Do you? You are asking me to take part in the worst betrayal. You ask me to flee rather than fight, and you wish to rob me of the honour that comes in overcoming those who bring blight. Were we to lose this war, then my place is with my brothers, resting by their sides on the hushed battlefield.

“Can’t we reach a compromise? Please, I beg of you, just consider...” As a child who has lost all arguments to defend against the chiding remarks of a parent, Lillian’s voice was pleading.

No.

“Please. If you still doubt our intent, then we could bring you to our leader...” She fumbled in her walk, tripping over the dented step of a whirling gear. Blood was rushing to her head, and she was feeling more and more disoriented.

No!

“But–” How tinged with desperation.

NO!

“FINE!” The monk had started, not expecting the quavering girl, who was quite visibly reaching the end of the rope, to utter such a bellowing roar, tinged with both selfish annoyance and altruistic dismay, as if she could take no more of his refusals and was already regretting what she was about to do.

Shaking fingers fell to her knees, touching the hem of her dress and taking the rim into a steadied grip. Then, to the monk’s complete embarrassment, she yanked hard and ripped a long strip of the white cloth, baring her surprisingly generous thighs to the frisk air and his brisk eyes, who were sliding along their slender shapes, almost annoyed at the frayed dress that remained...

What are you doing? I... I will not be swayed through carnal desires! Do not shame yourself so vainly!

“Wha... What? That’s NOT what I’m doing!” she cried out, mortified at his less-than-holy assumptions. Her knees banged against each other, not faring well in this cold when this soaked, but she wrapped an end of the strip to her left hand, letting the rest drop and dangle like a wet rag. Her right hand was closed into a fist, though with their current positions, it was thoroughly concealed from his ken. ‘This is my last chance... what a choice word, considering this really will be a gamble.’

Without a word, the monk entered a frenzied dash, coiling his fist and body back in preparation for a swift blow, the final blow. He had discarded his regret, his guilt at the wounds he had inflicted. The monk had gone this far; to hesitate would put all to waste. If this meant living with the death of a young girl on his mind, then he decided that it would be his fate. In the blink of an eye, he was already upon the girl, springing a beast of a fist to clout and slug her across the jaw.

Across his face did the white strip whip, burning and soaking his skin altogether, the timing so perfect that his knuckles only grazed the flesh beneath her ear. Little did he know that this was only the precursor to his greatest befuddlement. Through the dripping cloth, he felt five phalanxes grip his face, and through the thin fabric had seen but a glimpse of a blinding blue flash.

Lillian had dived into the source of her powers, willingly raising the risks of the gamble of power. She would either call upon a powerful spell, or see herself suffer even direr consequences. Apparently, the dice had been rolled, and the girl had harvested a deadly storm. Whereas she had first been struck by a moderate electrical discharge, a bolt of lightning had come to reap the stakes. It tore through her flesh, but she had no time to feel the pain, as her mind had simply shut.

The current branched off her body, seeping into a newer canal. Through her fingers and into the torn strip of soaked cloth did it pass, sinking into the visage of a screeching man, stunning him in the throes of literally mind-numbing pain. The sizzling lights guttered and vanished, leaving trailers of smoke fume from the stricken bodies. Luckily, the bolt was not full-fledged, and lacked the lethality of true, unabated lightning, leaving both in a rather derelict state of living. After a while, they released each other from their deadlock and collapsed onto the main gear of the arena, which had suddenly come a full stop. The hissing of steam and clanking of brass had quelled into a slow seethe, until only silence reigned.

[Reiko]

Damn that poison was a bad idea, the aftershock of the poison and fragrance that left one of Althanas’ top swordswomen looking like a drowned rat and smelling like an entire red light district. To say that she would have turned down this job if she knew this would happen was a give in.

And far worse Ki got to see her partner endure a torturous beating that caused the nine tails’ heart to flood out guilt and regret. Sobbing tails swished against the floor while wanting the puff up but unable too. But What Ki really wanted to do was to take her sword and save the young girl that took the brunt of the attack. If only the little sorceress had drunk the poison instead of Ki, then it would be different. Doji at her peak could have held off the monk and probably could have her blade at the monk’s throat and demand cooperation. But it was the vixen Kenshi that drunk the poison and she was in no condition to fight.

And the sight of the last resort made by Lilly was something that Made Ki blush from what she saw. It left the vixen speechless as she watched the lewd display turn into a strange sorcerous attack and end with the nine tails being the last one standing.

“Guess I’ll have to pull my weight finally, and both of theirs.” Doji murmured as she staggered next to Lilly and felt for a pulse between the small but shapely breasts, good thing she was a girl too but it still had a bit of awkwardness despite being the same gender, being female didn’t automatically make it alright to touch another female’s taboo parts. But getting over that, Ki felt a pulse and sighed in relief while moving to the monk and doing the same. The monk’s muscles were a little more the vixen’s taste of chests but it wasn’t as awkward since men’s chests were not off limits to the public and thankful the steady but shallow beat could be heard.

There was still a chance to succeed but that made things all the harder, if both had died then Ki could just run out with her tails between her legs and if Lilly was the only one then she could carry the small girl out. But the monk was another story, Ki was a warrior but she didn’t really rely on strength at all and the monk would slow her down too much in this state. But both was surely impossible to Ki.

“I, I don’t know what to do!” Ki yelled, she felt alone and the pair probably couldn’t hear her since they were in dreamland and not the fake death of the poison. Then as Ki started to pace the doors started to open. “N, no I need more time…” Ki yelped as she watched another monk come in and gape at the sight of his brother lying on the ground.

“Brother…” the thin monk turned to Ki and shot the vixen a stunned glance. “What did you do?” He yelled, causing Ki to return a nervous and panting smile back.

Not fair… I don’t know what to do! Doji whined to herself as she tried to come up with a plan, she might have to fight the monk. She couldn’t be captured; the punishment that men who could bring the dead back to life and create worlds within a room was as terrifying as the possibilities were endless.

Wait, Ki was a kitsune and a nine tails, she had magic that could steal the hearts of men, which was her one hope. Ki had to focus, take deep breaths and smile at the monk, trying to be alluring but ending up more comical, still if she could concentrate and shake her tails in the pattern that could begin the charm spell.

The monk’s harsh gaze softened, seemed the tails were doing their thing. Ki then ran at the monk, who then readied himself to defend an attack, but he wasn’t ready for a kiss.

The monk was shocked as he looked at the soaked girl, but he saw how smooth her skin was, with an alluring wet gleam, and the hair despite being wet and sticky would be quite soft once dry. Then there was the kimono clinging to the skin, leaving little guesswork to how exotic the girl was underneath the garment. Then there was the eyes, beautiful pieces of Amethyst that could never be tainted. “What did you do to my heart? Why is such a lovely creature here looking so dreadful with two corpses nearby.”

“They’re not dead!” Ki protested almost crying as the monk ended up hugging her.

“There, there. Don’t worry your little head, I do something about them.”

“Please, I need to take them out. If I get caught, I’ll be in trouble.”

“Alright, we’ll get them out.” The monk couldn’t take his eyes away from the fox as he lifted the other monk up. “I know a way out”

“Thank you.” Ki made a shaky bow.

=^^=

It was over, Ki had survived the day as did Lilly and they had their monk. Ki sent the other monk away since she didn’t want to be near him when the fox magic wore off and restraining him would kill the magic. So they were stuck with a monk who wasn’t in a mood to cooperate but his lack of being conscious helped a bit. But as far as Ki was concerned her job was over, she had kids to worry about.

(Spoils: 500 gold or whatever’s fair^^)

[Ataraxis]

There were many things that Lillian had forgotten, and she would never see nor hear of them again, no matter how prodigious she was. Day after day, only memories of her losses, only countless bursts of solitude and only glimpses of her self-destructive nights blessed her eyes with their unwavering presence, but never had she recalled the events of her prime, the time she was but a newborn, still wet behind the ears. She would never know of her first steps, her first laugh and her first cry, nor would she ever see the time of her first breath, when she had here oblong eyes, still half-closed, set upon the soaked yet beaming face of her mother. Perhaps it was better this way, that in this manner, she was as all children are, perhaps her grief would have been worse, if she could recall the days of nurturing, the days before she had spoken her first word and seen her parents gleaming with giddy joy. It was better this way, she always thought. But though she understood it well, though she knew what a blessing this was, regret had often added itself onto her stack of burdens, of unresolved heartaches. That was why she was so mirthful, the day of the Citadel incident. In her self-induced lethargy, she had felt the gift of a dreamless slumber, safe from the torments that stewed wherein her mind. And then, when her hours of wake had neared, she could feel a familiar seesaw, as though she was rocking from side to side in an infant’s cradle. Lillian was tearing up in bliss; until she heard the seagulls caw.

Periwinkle eyes had not met their kindred in the sky, but rather a soft glow of tangerine that flared across the heavens, a blazing chariot that trailed off into the horizon. Feathery breezes moistly brushed against her cheeks, and they carried a slightly saline flavour. Roused from her reparative slumber, the raven-haired girl drew herself from a bed of down, a cold shiver tingling her bare shoulders as she gave sleepy glances to the small cabin, lit only by the open glass framework of an adjacent wall. Her heart had lost a beat when the robed figure of a monk peeked through the ruffled blankets of a bed on the opposite end of the room, heaving in a succession of high and low tides. So the nine-tailed swordswoman had found a caper out the almighty ziggurat, and had brought them all back, alive and relatively well. Brushing her fingertips upon the lee of her bosom, she could feel her ribs were in shambles, and she could still taste the bitterness of iron in the back of her pallet. Somehow, her wretched condition felt unimportant, a surface thought, a concern that she could postpone. With languid eyes, she watched the monk stir in his sleep, slowly trawled from the darkness and into the golden crepuscule.

“You’re awake.” It was odd to hear her speak, for she seemed to address no one, and it was not clear if it was a declaration or merely an observation. It was obvious, however, that she sounded very tired. When the monk did not speak, or even deign to turn and face her, she feebly smiled, and continued nonetheless. “We must be on the Peregrine. It is the ship of Captain Rajani Aishwara, also head of the Peregine Group.” Was he ticked off at the name? The monk had reacted in some way, but Lillian was too exhausted to notice. She only shrugged and went on with the same, indolent voice. “I have been here twice, before. The crew is kind, of not a bit rough around the edges. They serve delicious meals here, and rumour says the Head Cook is a sight to behold, in many ways. I wouldn’t know though, but it is still a warm place to be.” The monk was immobile, seeming only a jumble of dark laundry on the bed, apparently inattentive. Lillian did not seem to mind. “It’s a pity I can never stay here very long. Most of the time, I have to live on my own, to fend for myself. It gets hard, sometimes. And it’s always lonely.” Her chin rested upon her knees, drawn close enough for her arms to wrap around. It was one of those times where the sun was absent, where only the dark remained to suffocate her.

What do you want with me? Why do you talk to me? What makes you think I care what my captor feels? The monk was still idle, but the winds of his voice had blown into her mind, loud enough for her to hear.

“If I am you jailer, where are your shackles?” There were no fetters binding him. She knew it as well as he did. The monk grumbled, but she could make nothing of his unintelligible mutter. “And... I just wanted to talk. Anything will do.”

Talk? Then let us talk about how you took me away from those I care for, after telling me that a war is dawning upon our Citadel. You tell me my brothers may very well die, and expect me to leave them to their fate, to save myself like a coward? And it matters not if I wear no manacles, if I am not bogged by chains. We are at sea. You have imprisoned me with walls of endless water! You have forsaken my kinsmen and I!

“Then let me go in your stead.” The monk expelled an incredulous wail, as though his mind could not assimilate her words. “If the war does occur, then I will go and fight alongside your brothers. That way, you can stay here and help everyone.”

You? Fight? You would die before the blades are unsheathed! And why would you risk your life for people whose names you do not even know?

“If I remember well, I brought you down.” Before the monk could retort, she hushed him, the glacial tint of her eyes enough to deter his will. “And I will fight there because I can, and because I know the pain of leaving one’s home when there is a great threat hanging over it.” Lillian was an exile, after all. Her motherland would not have her, denied her the few she cared for, the home she yearned for. Worst of all, she had left Fallien when it was in turmoil, when the shadow of war was creeping yonder the deserted waste. It was unlikely that any of her loved ones would survive at all, what with the rising tension with the Cult of the Sun, and the wretched silhouettes of those winged crones, hanging balefully in the sky like the emissary clouds of an oncoming storm.

“Your home has hope, whereas mine does not.” Both had fallen quiet thereafter, the monk returning to his plaintive tranquility, the girl brooding over her dark musings in heavy silence, and only the cries of gulls called from out the window, rolling over the stillness of a dusky sea. How she wished for the flicker of a candle and the comfort of a book; evenfall had barely fallen, and the night already promised to be long and dreary.

Shortly after, the fires of her pain were rekindled, but her the ache of her soul had not abated, driving Lillian to call out to Suravani in a questioning prayer. 'How much more, Goddess? How much more must I remember before I am allowed to bask again in ignorant bliss? When will the earth from which I was birthed come and claim me?' In the veil of night hung a falcate moon, its dim crescent akin to the gleam of a bloodless scythe.

Spoils:

The Mute Monk of Ai'Bron - As a mutual spoil, we wish for the monk to become an NPC for the Peregrine Group, with all the powers that were invested in him as an Ai'Bron Monk.

Whatever amount of gold you deem decent, though I would like for 10% to go directly into the Peregrine Group's Treasury.

Oh, and Reiko and I would like this to be judged as a quest, rather than a battle in the Citadel.

[Atzar]

STORY

Continuity: 8 – No real comment here. I understand why the quest is taking place, and I can make an educated guess at what’s coming up next. Well done.

Setting: 7 – Very good. The environment was described very well. The wounds were played realistically. Ki’s reaction to the potion was described particularly well, I thought. I was lost for a minute, however, when the fight with the monk began. I would have also liked a little more in the way of detail when they all managed to escape – the monk said he knew a way out and then it was just… over.

Pacing: 7 – The thread was paced well, by and large. I didn’t feel that it lingered too long anywhere. There’s really not too much else to say here – you two know how to move a story along.

CHARACTER

Dialogue: 6.5 – Good. Nothing was wildly out of place, although I thought the first monk’s reaction was a bit extreme.

Action: 5 – Eh… this was really the only category that I found to be particularly spotty in this quest. A few things in particular didn’t add up for me. Why would the first monk have been so eager to attack Lilly, when he had an oath not to harm the combatants? Why did the second monk cave in so easily to Ki’s advances, when the first had been so adamant in his beliefs? What, exactly, was the point of the potion? I know the idea was to make Lilly appear to be the victor, but what did she do that Ki could not have pulled off? Additionally, you mentioned early on that Lilly and Ki were afraid that the monks might have some way to spy on them. Wouldn’t the fact that Ki drank her enemy’s potion be just a little suspicious? It just seemed like a few things were off and needed to be thought out better.

Persona: 5.5 – The monk’s violence, again – why did he resort to blows so quickly? Lilly and Ki were played well, but the monks didn’t act at all like I believed they would. If one was too zealous, the other wasn’t zealous enough.

WRITING STYLE

Mechanics: 6 – Ataraxis, for as long as his posts tended to be, had very few errors. Reiko’s writing, however, was speckled with typos and run-on sentences. Run your posts through word, or ask your partner to read them over and clue you in on the mistakes.

Technique: 7 – Effective technique used by both of you. Ataraxis, I’ll admit that I was intimidated by the size of your posts at first, but I didn’t find myself struggling to get through any of them. There was only one place, if I recall correctly, where I believed that you got too wordy for the situation. Well done.

Clarity: 6 – The intensive detail got a bit overbearing at times, and I found myself having to reread some of your actions to understand exactly what was going on. Ataraxis, this is something that you in particular will need to be careful of. You have a very detailed, wordy style. You might want to reread your posts to make sure you don’t dwell on things to the point of overshadowing the more important parts of the story. This isn’t a big problem, and it only came up once in awhile, but it was noticeable.



Wild Card: 6 – Fun battle/quest to read. It had a few holes, but it’s still a very good thread overall.

Final Score: 64

Reiko gains 1700 exp and 300 GP.
Ataraxis gains 570 exp and 270 GP.
The Peregrine Group gains 30 GP, along with the mute monk as an NPC. Just remember that he’s not just a puppet for TPG… he’s not in shackles, he won’t do something he doesn’t agree with and he won’t fight for a cause that he doesn’t believe in. In short: use him realistically.

[Cyrus the virus]

EXP added!