Tourism for Wizards

[Caden Law]

Continuity-wise, this is set in the two hours between Caden's arrival at Scara Brae and his jaunt through the Bazaar (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=8351) (currently still in progress). Obviously, he had to be busy doing something to take that long getting from the Docks to the marketplace. It's also Open to All. Feel free to jump in!

...no, seriously. D: The intro post's big(ish?), but anything after that'll be saner.

"Come one, come all!" shouted one of about three hundred barkers and street vendors that called Scara Brae's streets, sidewalks, and ragged corners home. This particular vendor's name is Simot Rilbed; a man warranting the common alias of Fry-My-Own-Scrote for his favored slogan when it came to giving people good deals. Simot's about 45 years old, human (technically speaking; he was too slimy to be an orc, too hairy to be an elf and too ugly to be a dwarf. Try not to dwell on that), and he dressed -- he always dressed -- in a pair of sagging overalls, a shirt that was probably white in some alternate universe, and a trademarked yellow jacket with a horribly ugly hat like what you'd see in a detective movie.

Incidentally, if Scara Brae actually has anything like trademark laws, Simot and his ilk are why.

Look at him now, standing there all innocently...assuming you can define ebola as innocence. He was hawking his latest invention to the masses: The Hot Dog. It's a sausage, y'see, tucked into something that may or may not be bread, and covered in what could vaguely be described as relish. You don't want to know the actual contents of the meat. And yes, it is meat. Technically speaking.

Now watch closely. Listen.

"Here, here! I'm fryin' my own scrote for this'ne!"

Not that. Listen closer. Hear it yet? That's the sound of Caden Law's stomach growling, because he hadn't eaten in two days. By inches and the miles between them, he lurched through the crowds with his signature Hat removed and tucked (re: semiviolently crammed) into his longcoat. Without that one identifier, he blended in with the denizens of Scara Brae much better.

Well enough to walk up behind Simot. With the deft precision of a Wizard and an occasional pickpocket, he waited until Simot's arms were up and his eyes were to the left. Then he reached around on the low right, snuck a hand to the vending cart and managed to swipe one hot dog.

Then he ran. Very, very quickly. You wouldn't think a Wizard can run like that in this kind of crowd, but Caden had experience at this sort of thing. He turned a hard corner around one of about fifty taverns and inns that called Scara Brae home, slowed down dramatically, and somehow managed to draw his Hat back out and slap it on with one hand. Listen closely enough and you might actually hear the little frummmm of its quasibinding.

Caden ate the hot dog after that. He did so while focusing heavily on everything but his mouth, nose, and the sensation of tears cascading down his cheeks in a kind of sympathetic horror to the sensory atrocities raging across his tastebuds. For what it's worth, his expression conveyed nothing. And for what else it might be worth, he found this one wench with a ridiculously low-cut top; low enough to literally spill out of. Low enough to inspire thoughts like Thank Gods I'm not celibate...

This in turn was followed by something along the lines of It'd itch for months, and I'm sure there're parasites to spare, but...but...

He finally tilted his eyes up. Saw the wench's face. Almost threw up. Twice. Caden threw what little remained of the hot dog into a corner alley, where rats had a small war over it. Then he pulled the brochure out and flipped it open to a random page. To call it a mere brochure is doing it a disservice, of course. It was more of an omnibus of useless information; local personalities and flavors, actions and attractions in the City of a Thousand Adventures!

Cynical as he was, Caden thought it better than to try saying such a thing with a straight face. Sooner or later though, by hook, crook, and a haphazard bump against someone or something, his eyes found it.


Action, adventure, and so much more!
The Dajas Pagoda

The proving ground for new and old alike! The Dajas Pagoda, newly active after years of dormancy, is one of the most honored and renouned fighting arenas in the world. Home to...Caden skipped ahead a few paragraphs.

Current Hierarchs include the enchanting Sakurazuka Anila Miyu, the dragondancing Asuka Murakama, the enduring Joshua Cronen, the...What the sound of donkeys crying were these idiots smoking when they wrote this? Caden thought, cringing rather viciously at the way each fighter was identified. Ignoring whatever disgruntlement he might've caused here or there (as he was still, presumably, walking around with his nose in the brochure), he kept reading. If that stupid raven was handy, it probably would've crowed the fortunes of the brochure having relatively up-to-date profiles of the warriors and their prospective match-ups; pictures, a stat system that made sense if you were suitably drunk, and times and dates for each match.

Lot of Akashimen present...pretty pictures too. Note the head tilting, the shadowy Wizard Smirk and the fact that his glasses are Conveniently Opaqued by sunlight. Can't believe they're taking that many matches in succession...but... he looked up from the brochure at long last, having arrived by blind cosmic fluke within sight of the Pagoda. It was everything the brochure hyped it up to be; ridiculously big and built with an archaic Akashiman style to it. Caden considered it, and then he wondered one of the multiverse's most profound questions yet.

"What the bloody hell's a Canadian?"

[Caden Law]

Anything from here on out happens after my first thread (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=8351). Still open, still rambling, still inanely lighthearted!

Caden never did get an answer to his question, which is really quite good and fair in the grand scheme of things. The people of Althanas, freakishly rare examples not included, simply had no way to tell what a Canadian was. Eventually, after some meditation on the subject, he found his way to the Bazaar.

It took him roughly half an hour, maybe more or maybe less, to find his way back out. Said-way involved pretty girls with creepy eyes, and the eventual passage through one too many back alleys that left him feeling like someone was stalking after him. Look out for the Scara Scourge! a half-toothless thirty-something barker shouted at him when he finally made it out into the open. Caden stared back at this man, nodded stupidly, and then got lost (kindasorta, except not really, and actually in reverse).

He wound up passing by more local landmarks; six hours went ticking by, and Caden saw the City of a Thousand Journeys in ways the brochure couldn't compete with. Dajas Pagoda at sunset, when the light gave it a kind of bloody, pitted glamour of silver and gold; ancient glories slowly but surely working their way back from obscurity. Taverns by the dozen, most only just now gearing up for business with the understanding that 5' O Clock somewhere! meant 5:00 AM in a place like Scara Brae. Which is probably when most of the places would bother shutting their doors for a few minutes to clean up and change the guards.

Shops, shops, more shops, and one of those creepy little chain-stores that took up space on a wall without seeming to occupy the space behind said-wall. Caden spent a little bit of time with head tilted at this particular store, whose owner had the audacity to step out and motion to him. Come in, come in! All the bargains in the world! And more! the punch-ugly little man shouted, looking rather like a pointy-eared Danny DeVito trying to dress like the Hero of Time.

Caden thought about it. "Wouldn't happen to be a demon from Hell, would you?"

Of course not!

"Then why aren't your lips moving in synch with your words?" Caden asked.

Danny DeMon looked at himself (which produced a visual effect like an afterimage slipping outside of his body and looking backwards through its own skull; Caden mentally tallied this as Visual Trauma #1,153). Shrugged. Still gettin' the hang o' this one, bro.

"No, seriously," Caden motioned. "Aren't there rules for this sort of thing?"

Not r-

"You're supposed to at least dress normally, and keep your fangs filed down, and try to gloss over the patches of rotting skin with make-up and stuff--"

But--

"And while we're at it, let's talk about those yellow-on-red eyes, ma-...unman? Yeah, what gender are you supposed to be anyway?" He wondered. Commence on of the Multiverse's more perplexing questions: "Do demons have man-boobs?"

DeMon stared at him.

"...seriously. Do they?"

Depends on the demon. Look, are you gonna come in or not?

"I'm guessing certain death and unspeakable horrors are waiting for me?"

Along with everything you've ever wanted! DeMon added with an emphatic finger. Which almost caught fire. Remember the wagon set? Yeah? Yeah, that wagon set. We got it, man!

"...I was five," Caden replied.

...okay. How about the...uh...the spell to summon and bind succubi?

Caden thought about this. In the way that men do, he really thought about it. In fact, he thought about it so hard that he didn't even notice his own feet moving; he was too busy scratching his chin. And thinking. Gloriously. Except for when he got close enough to see DeMon up close, prompting him to stop a little outside of arm's reach of the door.

"Nnnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaahhhh," he said, and it was only with the oral acrobatics of Wizardry that he was able to put a precise emphasis between the N and the H like that. "Sure is tempting though." Nod, nod.

Look, buddy, I got kids to feed. 6,000 of 'em. You gonna be a good little twat and get in the flaying chamber or not?

"Flaying chamber?"

Yeah, y'see, it...it...oh. Crud.

"Yeah," said Caden, slowly inching back towards a relatively secure looking lamp post. "I'll pass."

...fuck you! And fuck this place! I'm going home! DeMon declared. Mum always did say I'd do better as an incubus, buuuut nooooooo...

The last thing Caden remembers after that is a ratty looking foot catching him in the groin. Down he went, crumpled in a rather orderly heap. Pay no mind to DeMon as he stomps into his little flaying chamber of horrors. Said chamber promptly imploded into the wall and left behind nothing but vandalism in its wake; A Wizard did it!

Thankfully when the Guard come, they actually believe Caden when he says he wasn't the Wizard in question. But only because he's blue. In more places than just his clothing.

----

"And that's what really happened," he later told any one of a hundred nondescript innkeepers, though this one was relatively close to the docks, operating an inn that doubled as a tavern and tripled as an impromptu morgue during darker times. "Pretty crazy story, huh?"

"No more beer for you," was the only response Caden got. "Weirdo."

Ignore the twitching and the relatively manic smile. Caden's used to these things. Incidentally, do yourself a favor and don't comment on that icepack-thing he's crafted out of frozen ale-cubes and a napkin. And don't -- do not, for the love of your Gods and Goddesses -- comment on where he's holding it.

[Bullet Witch]

The Witch however, had been listening to his story and damn near burst out laughing when he finished. As much as she disliked magicians for their cowardly approach to battle, this one didn't seem half bad, and he earned brownie points in her book for tricking that demon like that. As the large group of innkeepers got up and left, Leigh chuckled to herself, replaying the story over and over again in her head. She could almost see the look on the demon's face when this man came and unleashed that monstrosity upon the poor thing. And she almost felt pity for it. Almost.

She got up herself and noticed he was play with something that seemed to be made of icecubes and a napkin. He was a weirdo alright, but there was something about him that reminded her of a bird; seemingly random and erratic to the casual eye, he held a deeper meaning and self once you really studied him.

And so that was what compelled her to introduce her self to the sitting wizard. "Loved the story. And I believe you when you say it really happened." She sat next to him and crossed her legs as she unstrapped the sheathed katana and set it to the floor. "By the way, my names Leigh, but i'm known around here as the Bullet Witch." She winked and gave a small smile.

[Caden Law]

No more beer. Take away a Salvaran Wizard's beer and you may as well take away one of his principle reasons for breathing...and Caden wasn't selfless like most adventurers in these parts. He wasn't even Pretend Evil; he was just a self-absorbed prick when it came to his motives. So. Beerless.

Thud went his head against his elbow, the only barrier between his face and the splintery, mess-ridden countertop. Try not to notice the new stains on his coat's sleeves. He moped like this a few minutes, still holding the icepack at his groin, and then...

He heard it.

In Caden's near-buzzed state (which normally takes a good 5 to 6 mugs of something powerful, poisonous, or downright enchanted), he heard a voice; the kind that comes from the upper-back of the mouth and nasal cavity, and can alternate between words like Sexy and Kill You on a whim. Tack on alcohol and this is the kind of voice that's basically designed to hit the male libido like a nine iron at full swing. Caden looked up, just after the sword went down, and just before he could start making sense of individual she was saying. In between testicular pain and the haze of a not-quite-buzz, all he could make out were names and a suitably positive tone.

"...Leigh...Bullet Witch..."

Caden thought about this. Eyed her, from the shadows of his Hat and the conveniently opaque glint of his glasses. Then he nodded.

"Blueraven," because a Wizard worth his salt doesn't just give his actual name to anyone on the first go. Even buzzed and pained, Caden knew this as instinctively as he knew how to breathe. "Thanks for believing," he guessed this part.

Caden finally removed the makeshift icepack, set it down on the counter, and offered what was otherwise a completely clean right hand to her.

"Pleased to meet you," he offered, and there were the birthing cracks of his usual awkward pleasantness.

[Bullet Witch]

"Blueraven?" Sounded less like a name and more like a title to her. However, she could relate to his unwillingness to share his name, in a way, and winced slightly at her own mistake. It made her look amatuerish, and she slightly sat a little straighter in compensation.

When he offered her a relatively clean right hand, she took a second look at the man and realized that he was slightly drunk. This made the corner of her mouth turn up. A drunken wizard? That's new. She thought wryly to herself, and shook his hand with her own, although hers was encased in a long silken glove.

She suddenly realized that he had been holding the icepack to his groin and cocked an eyebrow. But yet, she said nothing. "Well, its nice to meet you as well, Blueraven." she responded to his bright, if slightly off-kilter, tone. "You seem an...interesting fellow, to say the least." She winced at her blunt honesty but did not try to revise it.

[Caden Law]

He started to sit up. Stopped short, wincing. Then succeeded; upright, stock straight, and gradually sobering. Only a Salvan could pull that one off. That or someone who'd sold their soul to a suitably powerful demon. Crick-crack, his neck popped, and then he shook his head.

"Me?" Caden asked, and slowly smiled. It was a very vacant, absent smile. The kind that lends credence to the following statement: "I'm quite boring. It's just that everything that happens around me isn't. Stick around long enough and something'll catch fire...or spontaneously explode...or the title character of an epic, ancient poem -- about pornography." Caden paused. Then slapped himself. "Sorry. I have trouble sticking to one language lately." He considered it a moment; considered her, and then considered himself.

"Incidentally," Caden began, then straightened his glasses. "I'm not like you." Here, he smiled. And it was a much more honest smile at that. "I'm just a Wizard with a pointy hat. You? You look interesting..."

Pause. A very long, very pregnant pause.

"Wouldn't happen to know what a Canadian is, would you?"

In case anyone's having trouble figuring it out, sudden strings of italics are Caden saying something else in a foreign language. Anything. D:

[Bullet Witch]

When he sat up and started to become sober, Leigh was impressed. Not just anyone could go from the brink of being drunk and back again like that. He said that he was quite boring, but Leigh found him anything but, and she found herself thinking what it would be like to have a traveling companion. She quickly drowned the thought, however, in the memories of her past experiences with traveling companions.

They weren't very pleasant, to say the least.

He seemed to try and convince her that he was the very stereotype of a wizard, complete with wand, "pointy" hat, boundless randomness and unknown knowledge. However, this made her even more certain that there was more to the man, and, as they say, Curiousity killed the kitten. By masturbation.

She was so busy thinking upon these that she only half heard his last question, whereupon she absently answered it. "A Canadian is someone who lives in Canada, north of the United States of America." Suddenly she realized what he had just asked, and spun around to face the sobering wizard. "Wait, where the hell did you hear that word?!" she said fiercely, wide eyed.

How could this man, a Wizard of Althanas, hear of another dimension? Were there others like her around here, trapped in an invisible cage?

[Caden Law]

Caden stared at her for a moment. If you were to listen closely enough, with the proper visual animations in place, you might've heard a little tick-tock-tick-tick-click, and then you might've been able to notice Caden making the belated connection that this was neither a local, nor a foreigner. Unless you count Foreign as being Outside. In which case she was, alternatively, a lethal danger, a good one night stand, or something to run like hell from while screaming I MUST KEEP MY PANTS CLEAN!

Caden decided upon a relatively less intense path after a few seconds of silence. He reached into his coat, drew out the tourist brochure, then flipped it open. "Thought everyone got one of these," he mumbled, and then muttered in something very much like backwards Japanese through a crazy straw, "or maybe I'm the only one who actually read it." He was unconcerned either way.

Stop. He handed it over to her, right side up, and then explained what he'd already read. "Joshua Cronen, one of the local Dajas Pagoda theta-epsilon pac-men...erm...Hierarchs, sorry. There's nothing I know about him beyond what's in the brochure. Lists him as Canadian. I honestly couldn't make heads or tails of it." He shrugged. "I've never even heard of a Canada or anything until today."

[Bullet Witch]

Leigh took the brochure in one hand and glanced at it. A man from Canada? This confirmed her suspicions and she quickly handed the brochure back to the wizard. "The Dajas Pagoda, huh?" she murmured. "I might just have to pay this man a visit"

She turned back to the wizard. Even though he had thrown her for a loop with that last comment, she still did not sway from her original task: to find out more about this strange and unusual wizard. "Do you want to go anywheres?" she asked in a polite, light tone. "Honestly, pubs don't do well for my complexion, and no one seems interested in your stories any more...." she paused, and chuckled. "...Save me, that is."

I apologize for the craptacular post, I just have a headache right now. =/ I assure you they will be better in the future.

[Caden Law]

Caden gave her an honest shrug and turned back to his food -- which really should've been a lukewarm mush of things pretending to be veggies and meatstuffs by now, but remained almost steaming hot. "Not really. I've already made the relative fatal error--...ah...I forget the word, but I've already paid for a night's stay here. I'll probably be heading for...Underwood. I think I'll be going...somewhere or other after that. Wherever the seas throw me. Either way, I'm not long for this place, and I prefer to avoid travel with company."

He didn't sound particularly concerned about that last bit. Caden was, for good or ill, rather honest. Fickle as Wizards can be, but still honest enough that his lies were usual by the omission of just one or two words, and it was almost impossible to tell either way.

"What about you?" he wondered more than he asked, going for small talk on instinct between bites that were almost forced.

Edit: No biggy, dude o_o Life Happens.

[Bullet Witch]

"I'm not much of one to travel with company myself." Leigh said as she watched the Wizard eat. "I've always found that they get in my way usually, rather than help. Your going to the Peaceful Promenade?" Leigh asked in one sentance as she took out her katana from its sheath and grabbed a napkin and began wiping some of the grime from the steel blade.

"I've heard its nice there, but I've never actually been there myself." She looked outside at the clear skies and sighed. "I'm a bit of a wanderer myself, I admit. You kind of scared me there with that whole 'Canadian' thing because Canada is in my home wo--" she caught herself before she said too much, and quickly revised her sentance. "I mean, its close to my home country."

Phew, that was a close one...She thought to herself. Revealing too much info to one person was dangerous, no matter whom they were.

She was about to say more when she heard heavy footsteps behind her and looked up to see an ugly, grinning visage of a man. He wore slight plate armor and chewed somthing in his mouth, giving a very disreputable appearence as he eyed Leigh's form with a lecherous gaze.

"Can I help you?" the Witch said coldly, and her hand drifted to the hilt of her blade. This hadn't been the first time somthing like this had happened, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

I'm leaving it open for you, so if you need to bunny my character a bit its approved.

[Caden Law]

Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, and hermaphroditic antigender-types of all ages (and that includes you immortal chaotic good drows too)! This is where you see the difference. This is the situation that seperates the Heroes from Everybody Else, be it by manners, common sense, or just plain moral bankruptcy.

Cue the leering, and the equal parts angry and lecherous stares exchanged by Leigh and the man who, for want of a better name, shall be called Gutman. Because he has a gut, and he's a man, and he's tall and ugly enough to qualify for honorary status as an Orc (or, possibly, The Missing Link. To what and from what is still hotly debated). He's the type of chap you find in these taverns; ridiculously out of place anywhere else but a warzone, wearing strangely form-fitting armor (a chestplate to accomodate his gut, specifically), and with a sword strapped to his back. Look at that sword. It's probably bigger than Caden. Probably bigger than his whole family. Very rusty, very dull, but you don't need a sharp blade to kill, maim, or generally destroy with something of that size.

A proper gentleman would stand immediately and try to curse him off. A proper coward would just scoot away. At the least, most men would actually feel sorry for the apparent predicament Leigh was in -- even more so when Bubba Gutman here finally spoke up, in a voice like grinding rocks and burnt meat. He said, "Yew got a purty mouth."

It's a measure of near total apathy to others that Caden didn't even notice what was happening.

Cue banjos!

"An' nahss ahs."

Start running!

"Whut kinna make-up yew use?"

...it's like a trainwreck in slow motion, isn't it?

Leigh, presumably being rather open-minded and polite on account of being from another planet, where these kinds of things are probably normal, attempted to explain. Caden tuned them out, favoring thought and long-term planning (which would inevitably be shredded by the only true god: Murphy). The conversation twisted this way and that, somebody lisped, and then there was an attempted grope and a sword went where God/s never intended. It was this -- and only this -- that prompted Caden to look up at Gutman's breathlessly squealing face, look down to where the sword was stuck in him, and then wince.

It was a wince shared by every male thing within a three block radius. Men outside the tavern protectively grabbed their groins without knowing why, and almost half a mile away a celibate monk woke up screaming and reportedly died of a heart attack.

Leigh withdrew the sword. Wiped it on Gutman's sleeve. Then he dropped into a puddle of stuff best left undescribed.

Caden turned back to his food. Poked the sausage-ish bits of it. Pushed the tray away and nonchalantly told the bartender, "I think I'm done eating now."

[Bullet Witch]

The pigish man fell to the ground behind her, and she glared at the patrons of the inn, daring them to say or do anything. When nobody did, she turned back to the wizard, who had only glanced over when her blade had struck the man's crotch. It had been a lucky strike, she had to admit. She had attacked him when he had tried grabbing one of her breasts, and had meant to cut his arm or side, nothing too permanent.

Well, that sure will leave a mark. She chuckled on the inside. Its not like he hadn't deserved it or anything. Ignoring the kneeling man behind her, she looked to the wizard Blueraven and saw him push his sausage away, apparently having his appetite leave him upon her assault on the man's most valued possessions.

Leigh laughed out loud. "Sorry if that disturbed you. I just don't tolerate men touching me without my permission." Actually, she almost didn't let men touch her at all. She hadn't been in love since way before she became a Witch, and didn't intend upon it happening again any time soon. Closing the sword in its sheath, she said to the wizard in a light tone: "Well, if your going to the Peaceful Promenade, would you mind if I tagged along?" Obviously she was trying to divert the subject away from what had just happened. "Who knows, might be interesting traveling with someone for once, for both of us." She gave him a small wink flirtateously, but she really did not have any feelings for the man, only maybe as a potential friend or comrade.

[Caden Law]

Caden considered the wink. In the way that men do, when confronted by a Woman in Skimpy Black Clothing, he really, really considered that wink. Even more so for the simple reason that men are inherently stupid and few things are more tempting than such a woman who can and will castrate you. It's why Femme Fatales never have any trouble getting laid. Similar reasons are why Succubi are so successful. The key difference between Caden and your average man is this: He thinks with the upper head. Probably too much.

"I'll take a pass," he said, as pleasant and polite as he could manage. Not for sympathy, but for the urge to avoid any pubic decapitations. "Although I do appreciate the offer."

Weigh the options, he thought. Weigh them good. Thought about it some more. Decided, despite what little bit of gentlemanliness that had been browbeaten into him as a child, not to give her his actual name.

"Been a pleasure meeting you though."

He extended a hand.

[Bullet Witch]

She smiled back, but for different reasons. Wow, a man who actually uses his head and not his dick first. Impressive. She could almost see the variables going through his head as he had thought about it. That wink had been the kicker: had she been a little more interested in him, perhaps, she might've have had him, but instead he had resisted her charms.

"Been a pleasure meeting you as well." she said, looking him directly in the eye while she took his hand with her gloved one and shook it briefly before getting up and nearly tripping over the groaning man. "Oh buzz off. " she murmured to the fallen man, and walked out out of the tavern and onto the pavement.

In her strides however, she did not see the two men get up from the table behind theirs and walk out the door as well. They were dressed in armor, like the other man had been, but unlike him they weren't fat or overweight at all. Instead, they were like two living monoliths, nearly filling up the door way as they exited as well.

The looks on their faces suggested that they did not have good intent.

Again, any future bunnies are approved.

[Caden Law]

Up they went. Out she went. Out they would've gone, but for a whole cacophony of catastrophes that spelled the end of the night for the two thugs. Their names were Hans and Grendel, respectively, the sons of a merchant-turned-mobster-turned-dead-guy-in-the-ocean by the local Scourge. What their father had in brains, these boys made up for with muscle and appetites -- all sorts of appetites. For reference, Hans enjoys chocolate and Grendel's a sucker for kittens.

Especially fried kittens.

In any case, they made for the door, and this is where you see the key difference between Caden's school of thought and the Vast Phantom Majority of magic users in Althanas: Subtlety. To explain this, we look to the Brothers 'Roid Rage.

More aptly, we look to them from the big, dirty mirror that stereotyping and cliche demands behind every bar. Then we look at the door, its handles and sides covered in years old filth -- but most of that is dirt and dried mud. Incidentally, there's a healthy coating of earth all over the floor and the ground around the door.

Now look at Caden's hands. Really look at his hands. They're slowly but surely balling into fists, except not. The fingertips are touching against the base of each palm, and his forearms are positioned as if aiming his elbows right at the door. Something happens here, but it's hard to tell what: Caden's magic is, more often than not, far less flashy than the stuff used by others. Where some geomancers move mountains, Caden simply moves dirt.

Dirt attached to a door.

A door that promptly slammed shut on the face of Grendel, right as the dirt beneath his feet and on the soles of his boots decided to do a crazy tango. Down he went, bashing into Hans on the way and prompting a full-blown fistfight between the two of them. Because they were the types who looked for any reason to fight, and you could tell when a problem or disagreement between them was solved by counting who had the most teeth left afterward.

Cheering ensued, of the drunken variety. Caden yawned, ordered another beer, then drew out the prerequisite payment for everything -- 15 gold pieces, for food, drink and lodging. The now 170 Special in his coat would've wheezed if it were a living thing.

Down plopped the coins, up went Caden. Further up, to the stairs, and then down a short, narrow hallway to a fusty little room with one bed and a desk and a three-legged stool. He inspected it all. Carefully. Looked for bugs of every sort. Then he took off his Hat, reached in, and...

There it is, and just look at it. Ugly brown and tanned leather, save for the immaculately blue raven crafted onto the front cover. He opened it up, flipping through yellow-and-black pages that -- physically speaking -- shouldn't have been there. Stopped. Took out the scalpel. Took a breath. Steeled himself, gathered his thoughts...

And then he slit his right pinky finger along the pad. Blood leaked onto the blade, and he was wincing hard. Too deep, Caden noted, suckling at his fingertip. The reason for this is quite simple. Most people write with pens, or with pencils, and Caden usually does too. But he had none of those right now.

Note to self, he started, Buy a pelvic-striking pen.Nod, nod. Skip a bit. Did something decent tonight. This will not do. I think I'm starting to go soft and sympathetic and nice. Nice people don't live long. Need to go kick a puppy or something.

...and the fun part is trying to figure out whether or not he's writing seriously, or simply being sarcastic.

Thanks again for playing, by the way :D I've got one more post to tie things up, but if you'd like to do a proper Outro for Leigh, feel free!

[Bullet Witch]

Once again, I feel pathetic and inadequate to your level of posting. You are destined for great things, my friend, if you continue like this.

Yeah, i'll do a proper outro, then wrap up time, eh? :) Nice rping with ya!

As Leigh walked out she heard a thump and laughter from within the tavern. Normally she would have gone back just out of plain sadistic curiousity to see who had made a fool of themself, but she didn't want to go back and see the Wizard again. Although she wanted to hang around him more, he obviously had better things to do besides chat to some random woman who had come up to him out of interest other than sexual.

She rolled her eyes. Maybe she would see him again. Maybe she wouldn't. Well, only time would tell. And so Leigh Tyrfing, Bullet Witch of Earth, left the man named Blueraven to his.......studies..?

I know, crappy ending post. Sorry, little time left in study hall. :) No spoils requested.

[Caden Law]

Caden wrote. He wrote carefully, and conservatively, and cussed very frequently in many different languages whenever he made a mistake. Because it's always easy to make a mistake, but it's very, very hard to correct it when your only source of 'ink' is your own blood. He continued in this way, taking down notes and observations about everything from Scara Brae to what mechanics he'd discerned from the magicks of the 170 Special. Caden was even manic enough to contemplate, in writing, using his blood and a knife in place of pen and ink, the average breast size of a woman in Scara Brae.

Which somehow turned out to be a very complex mathematical problem, playing itself out to what a clock would read as 1:55 AM.

It's at this point that things got messy. Because latenight, when the storms are rolling in and the streets are almost but not quite abandoned, is when destiny likes screwing with people the most. Case in point: The window shattered. There was no forewarning of any sort, it just shattered, and suddenly there was glass on the floor and Caden was standing up and dropping his scalpel and trying to simultaneously ignore his pinky finger and draw his wand and shove the Grimmoire out of sight and--

Thud.

Silence.

A thoughtful picking of feathers.

"Fucking bird!" Caden spat in good ol' Common Tradespeak. Flailing limbs followed, and some cawing, and finally the bird landed on his desk and Caden was left huddling up to the foot of his bed with a truly savage look in his eyes. This wasn't helped by how his glasses were hanging crooked by one ear. "What do you want?"

The Blue Raven -- the basis for Caden's sorcerous name -- regarded him with one red eye, flicking from detail to detail and putting thoughts together in the inhuman way that aliens do. Impossible to understand without the right magic, and even then you needed the right animals or the wrong mind to pull it off.

"Well?" Caden finally asked, when he was a little less angry and a little more cynical.

Squawk.

Note the twitching, bushy blond eyebrow.

"In Common, please."

Raiersalvar.

"Eh?"

Salvaraiera.

"...details?"

Tides, times, read the signs.

"Oh, so you're rhyming now?"

Salvaraiera!

Lightning struck, thunder rolled a -0, and the bird promptly left. Caden spent the next two hours trying to use crude alchemy to fix the damaged window -- and he was cussing the entire time. After finally succeeding at the transmutation, he collapsed back onto his bed, and ended up smearing blood on his own cheek when he slapped his hand to his face.

"Salvaraiera," he repeated. "Salvaraiera." Again. "Oh." No need for a third time; Caden's not got the charm for that. "Salvar or Raiera." Cue the grinding of mental cogs. "Stupid bird." More grinding. A decision. "Raiera it is. Hell with Salvar," Caden decided, and maybe if he lived long enough, he'd actually have a little regret for that decision.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Not bloody likely.

"I need a drink," he concluded, just before falling asleep in spite of himself.

And that's a wrap. Thanks again, Leigh D:

EDIT: And LOST 15 gold, bringing me down to 170 on my temp-bonus-funds.

[Karuka]

All right, this was a fun little read, and a good first quest for both of you. Since it appears that this is your first judgment, I'm going to explain each part of the rubric and then make commentary.


Continuity: This is the context for the thread, telling the reader where you've been before and hinting at where you're going next. You don't need to present your entire chronology, just a hint at what you've been up to (or even something important that led you to) this point.

Caden, I have some idea what you've been up to, I think, but by the end of the story, I do know something about his past and where he's going in the future.

Bullet Witch, I have no idea what brought you here, what happened previously, or where you're headed, but I did learn something about your past. I'm guessing that Leigh's been on Althanas a while, since she seems so well adjusted.

6

Pacing: Basically, this is whether the thread progressed too swiftly, too slowly, fast in some places and dragging in others, or just right.

You guys did all right here. I wouldn't say it's extremely well done, or extremely poorly done, but it does seem to happen on very random occurrences, which gives it kind of a stop-start sort of feel. You did keep it moving fairly well, but try to work on transitions.

6

Setting: Setting is the environment, but moreso, how your characters interact with it. It answers the question "is this scene taking place in a place or a void?

Caden, you did a generally good job of giving a basic, if non-specific, setting. It wasn't really a void, and you did interact well with certain parts of it (basically, when you zeroed in on some detail in order to use it directly). And yes...hot dogs are disgusting...no, I don't know if they exist on Althanas.

Bullet Witch, I didn't get much from you. Adding a few touches of setting can make your posts more substantial and boost the quality of the thread. Character and action are important, yes, but setting is the physical context, and it needs to be there. ((don't feel bad about it, I still have problems with integrating setting, myself))

5

Persona: This part basically asks if the characters stayed true to themselves or not.

I understand that this is still that awkward breaking-in period where you and your characters are still eyeballing each other and trying to figure out what's happening, and for that, you both did fairly well, everything each character did seemed fairly well in character. There weren't any particularly shining moments for this, but it was good for the early phase.

8

Action: This judges what happened, did it make sense, did the character's reactions make sense, etc.

This wasn't bad. I'd have liked to see Leigh's attack on the guy that flirted with her from her point of view, since Caden didn't do anything with his detached point of view save describe an event that I am almost certain would make any of our male judges cringe and at least one of our other female judges cackle maniacally. Actually...there's a lot of groin violence from you, Caden, and that's fine...just remember, not all humor is slapstick, someone doesn't need to be doubled over with no hope of ever siring children to make it funny.

6

Dialogue: What's said, how it's said, and whether or not it fits the character.

I didn't notice anything wrong here, but I did enjoy the "what's a Canadian" moment or two.

6

Mechanics: This basically is how well you've mastered English grammar. It covers the nitty gritty stuff like spelling, punctuation, sentence structure, and word usage.

I noticed a few mistakes from Bullet Witch (most notably, you use "your" which is possessive, for "you're" which means "you are"), and a couple of little typo type stuff from Caden (and Caden...it's Raiaera, not Raiera). Proofread, guys. Ask the other person to proofread. Everyone can use careful proofreading and editing.

8

Clarity: This is how easy the thread was to understand.

It's a fairly straightforward little thread. Caden gets a little ambiguous sometimes, and Bullet Witch skimps on detail, but such things are easily fixed, and there weren't any big problems. I think that all you both need is to quest with some more experienced players that can coach you in minutiae and details (and since I'm telling you to do this, I'll also volunteer myself).

Caden, your style seems fun and solid, though lacking in little things. You might want to quest with people that are good with little details, and work with them so that you focus more on generalities and they focus more on details. It would probably do both parties good.

7

Technique: This takes into account literary devices, whether or not you use them, and whether or not you use them correctly.

There wasn't much here from Bullet Witch, but Caden consistently and fairly effectively used humor throughout.

6

Wild Card: This is where the judge gets to reward or not reward a thread as they see fit. We tend to give points to threads we enjoyed, or to threads we felt the rubric was legitimately harsh on.

I think this was a good effort for a first time out, and I hope to see more from you both in the future.

8

And your total is 66! Congratulations!

Rewards:

Caden Law receives 670 EXP and 180 GP, minus the 15 he spent. (165 total)
Bullet Witch receives 590 EXP and 180 GP

Questions, comments, and/or hateful remarks may be directed to my PM box, and I'll get back to you. Good luck to you both!

[Sighter Tnailog]

EXP Added!
Gold Added!