Hunter's Eve 3 (Open to one)

[Mutant_Lorenor]

((Can be a fight, or a battle of wits, its up to how you want to rp. Preferring anybody between level 0-2 thank you. You agree to finish this through to the end if you decide to post here. I only want serious rpers.))

Once again, a battle moon lurked overhead. To Lorenor's twisted eyes, the moon appeared red, harsh red, like a sanguine structure in the sky. Its red glow offering its particular hue to the land below only set off tee but the glow of the stars. A cosmic mosaic, Lorenor found himself looking up. A brilliant red star was N'Jal's prison and housed the Dark Mother. The renegade Thayne. All the other Greater and Lesser Thaynes attempted to banish the Dark Mother from Althanas. Lorenor worked to free her from her ancient prison.

Sitting on a rock in Concordia Forest, the ghoul pondedred these matters. He pondered the state of the world. Corone was locked in a Civil War with itself, Radasanth threatened to fall forever. Salvar was locked in conflict with itself as well. St. Denebriel prepared her war against the crown. King Iorlan Rahaxea was declared an enemy of the state by Justice Testhan sending Salvar into a state of civil strife to match Corone's own.

The global economy suffered. The poor were sent to the doghouse whilst refugees from other lands joined in with them. As a world, the entirety of Althanas was dragged to hell in a hand-basket. Opportunists like Lorenor smiled at the global chaos. Virtually every part of the globe was touched by the ravages of war.

And here, in the depths of Concordia a man could think about his next move without interruption. A clean breeze swept around Lorenor, licking him like a long lost lover. The ghoul took several deep pulls of the fresh air. He'd stopped at the Gol'bron's town to resupply after his meeting with the Rune Witch, Alex. He'd gotten himself a new Vlince cloak from their storage houses. Wearing all black leather, the ghoul wore his jacket open to reveal the black shirt beneath it. It was form fitting and showed off his lean physique.

His dreadlocks rested along the swoop of his back. They ended, tied, at the region of his glutes and touched the rock he sat on. Quite thick in nature, his hair was dirty for he barely washed himself. He liked smelling like death, it kept people off guard around him. Eventually, he would clean his hair, but now was not the time. Now was the time to keep on guard for the constant predators of the wild and bandits. And so, Lorenor pondered whilst he waited for another moment to shape his history. His weapons rested at his side and were ready to taste blood at any moment.

[The Writing Writer]

The air was warm and uncomfortably humid. In times such as these, Jacob's general lack of certain clothing seemed less inappropriate. No shirt, no shoes, no problem. His pants were all that he needed.

The moon blanketed the forest with a silver glow that was just bright enough to make seeing properly a chore. Jacob's eyes were spread wide as he could force them, trying to take in as much of the pathetic light as he could. He grumbled in annoyance at the inconvenient conditions he was being forced to endure. Sure he lived modestly, but this was rediculous. Even as he tried to find his way out of the trees, low hanging branches and thick shrubberies slowed his progress. Why in the hell did he wander this deeply into the forest anyway? The past few days were a blur to him.

He groaned loudly in frustration. His groan escalated slowly into a full blown angry roar. Jacob took off into a sprint, smashing through branches and bushes, stepping over logs and stones eventually losing his footing and tumbling to the ground. His forearms crashed into the dirt and the rest of his body followed, skidding across soft grass before slowing to a halt. He felt the anger that had been pumping through his veins escape his body all at once in the form of a deep sigh. He brought himself to his feet, wiping away much of the dirt that clinged to his chest and elbows. It seemed he had stumbled into a clearing. It was much brighter in the clearing without the trees to block the moon's light. It was also a bit cooler thanks to a light breeze that blew it's way through the clearing. It was a good place to rest for a while.

Jacob looked about the clearing for a place to sit and suddenly realized that he was not alone. In the center of the clearing sat a shadowy figure. It was all but motionless. Jacob tip toed, in a rather comical way, over to the stranger. He crouched down several feet away, examining it. It was...well hideous really. Jacob wasn't even sure if it was human, or elven or anything of the sort. He leaned in closely, now just barely a foot from it's face, staring into it's eyes, or whatever they were.

" You're a creepy one, like me, though you may be more.
People must scream when you enter the door.
An elf? A beast? Or a human gone dead?
Either way, you're ugly. But that not need be said.

But pay me no mind, for I've not one of my own.
They say madness is hell, but hey, how would they know?
Jacob is my name and I'm sure you've one too.
Now you tell me yours. It's the polite thing to do. "

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Something. Faint. Ever so faint. Came with the wind and flowed across his sensory array, teasing, caressing. A gentle promise of a lover's scorn. The malice of a partner's kiss. Hate filled eyes flowing with purple energy laced within eternal eye sockets. Lorenor was broken out of his line of thought to see a strange standing afore him. The ghoul frowned for a moment, a strange, hideous thing full of mystery and archaic promises. He looked towards the one standing before him and saw something...equally strange.

A stranger like himself. A mystery upon Althanas. At once terrifying and beautiful, the stranger before him reminded Lorenor of himself. Poetry in motion, the oak trees seemed to moan at the chance encounter. The ghoul stood up quite suddenly, a specter of what he once was. Only a part of the story really, though hinting at something more. His tiny build was a testament to the fire that burned inside his black heart. The trees, o, did they moan against the breeze whispering the promise of orgasmic pleasures yet to come.

The lad before him had a beauty of his own. Pale skin, long dark hair, tall and handsome to boot. Lorenor felt his warmth rising to the ocasion as he stared at the boy before him. All that the lad wore was a worn pair of pants, interesting. He could see nothing else about the stranger. The man had pink eyes which caught the ghoul's attention. He prepared an answer for the stranger.

"Jacob you say? They call me Lorenor. Such a strange thing to see one such as yourself this deep in the Forest. Tell me lad, what brings you out here?"

And so it began. Another moment in history. Another moment to pass for the isolation of immortality. He looked at the boy for a long time, the handsome young stranger stirring up the ghoul's hungers. Lorenor suddenly had the desire to bite the lad, but he would wait and see what the stranger could offer him in terms of companionship. His eyes glowed with purple energies as he stared at his latest find...

[The Writing Writer]

The mad poet began to laugh quitely to himself. He sounded like a child trying to conceal his laughter. It was innocent, yet sinister all at once. After a few moments of this, his laughter grew louder and more obnoxious. In no time at all Jacob was cackling loud enough to wake the dead.

He took off into a sprint in the opposite direction of Lorenor, then leapt high as he could in the air, spiraling his body in the air before landing on one leg, balancing on it like a bird on a branch. He spun around on his one leg and faced Lorenor, arms stretched wide as if conducting a symphony.

The stars and the moon shined brightly above Jacob, excentuating the dim glow of his ashen skin. He was as a ghost, hovering there on one leg, arms spread abroad. He grinned widely, and began yet another composition of insanity.

" Strange you say? I'll have to agree.
Perhaps it is strange to see one such as me,
Wandering here, lost in the trees.
But forgive me for saying that you are stranger than me.

I may be lost and OUT OF MY MIND!
But you are a monster who is one of a kind.
Not man not beast, not even in between.
A true anomaly so it seems.

Your eyes, your skin, even your hair!
And beneath your clothes? Who knows what's down there.
But I digress, you want to know of me.
So I shall tell you! And I will do it for free.

They call me the mad poet, as you might have guessed.
I tear people's skin from their chest!
I then use their bones and blood to write.
Such a joyous time, I would do it all night.

But what of you Lorenor?
Tell me your tale, if it isn't a bore.
What brings you here amongst the trees?
Tell me now! I'll even say please. "

Jacob tumbled down from his balanced position and rolled across the ground. He stopped in front or Lorenor and sat, legs crossed, patiently waiting for his reply.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The man's sudden actions surprised the ghoul, to say the least. He reminded him of the ghost-girl, K. Lorenor pondered for a moment or three whilst he looked in the general direction of a tree. Listening to the poet's rant he syphoned tidbits of truth within the all that insanity. Truth be told, there was much in the boy's words but also, Lorenor sensed something out. The words came like honey flowing from the pot. Narrowing his eyes, the ghoul tried to think of what to say in such a way that he could keep up with the boy's verse and not insult the fierce intellect that lurked there. Silent for but a moment in time, the ghoul finally responded when Jacob was through talking.

"Well I like it out here. I'm a hunter you see, a hunter of monsters I be. Clad in the outfit I'm in, a sigil upon my cloak reveals what outfit I belong to." Lorenor tried to find the right words in order to speak in a verse similar to how the boy talked. It was difficult finding the right words, but Lorenor searched. "Emblazoned upon my cloak therein lays the symbols of the Red Hand." Lorenor turned around to show the youth his Vlince cloak, embroidered with the symbols of the Red Hand, a fist holding a dagger. The ghoul continued. "Out here, I find space to think away from the noise of the city. Surely you can relate." The ghoul said, finally satisfied with his response. In raw mechanics and mastery of the common-tongue, Lorenor couldn't keep up with the boy's verse. But he would certainly try. Hearing cries of animals and insects in the background, the two strangers danced their waltz.

He waited for Jacob's reply. Poetry written in blood? Sounds promising.

[The Writing Writer]

Jacob rocked back and forth, listening intently as Lorenor told his tale. He chuckled lightly as he watched the grotesque creature fumble for words. He seemed to be trying to do as Jacob did by speaking in rhyme. But his attempts were in vain. Jacob did not speak words, he painted them. Every syllable, every rhyme that flowed out of his lungs and into the air became a part of a mural, a mural not seen, but heard. It was a note-worthy effort on Lorenor's part, but in a battle of teeth and tongue, he was bound to fail.

" Waste not your breath Lorenor.
T'was a good effort, but say no more.
Words are not to be used in this way,
Carelessly tossing them into the fray.

Words are like thread in a tapestry,
Carefully woven individually.
We need not best each other in this way.
If it's a contest you seek, unsheathe your blade. "

Jacob grinned widely, grinding his teeth. He rose to his feet, shifting his body into his typical combat stance, if it could rightfully be called that. He crouched low, arms hanging limply between his knees. He moved backwards slowly, stepping carefully, lightly.

" Come Lorenor. Let us begin.
In a battle of the body, who will win?
We may fight for fun, or for our lives if you please.
But please, choose quickly, no one likes a tease. "

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Suddenly the man went into a combat stance. In a moment of pure insanity, Lorenor observed the boy. Somewhat stupified. As he moved into combat stance Lorenor immediately saw a threat and moved into his own. He stood in place, shoulders slightly tilted so that he stood at a forty-five degree angle and his eyes painted upon the stranger before him. I am in no mood for a battle but if its a fight he wants, its a fight he'll get.

Lorenor studied the movements of his opponent and allowed his hands to move into combat position. He felt his claws grow eager to shed blood. Moving in a stalking position now, the ghoul circled around the boy for a brief moment stopping at approximately his side. Lorenor hesitated to fight, the ghoul knew that may cost him, but the boy was a thing of beauty. He didn't want to injure such a handsome face.

Knowing that he would have to take a more cautious stance than normal, the ghoul prepared himself to fight defensively rather than aggressively. He listened to the boy's heart beating before him, it might make a succulent meal indeed. Clenching his fists tightly every so often, Lorenor offered Jacob a way out. He truly didn't want to fight the boy but if push came to shove, Lorenor would bite back.

"I don't want to hurt you lad. If you want to go home, you can go home. There is no need for wanton violence if it can be avoided. I am sincere in this matter, I do not wish to harm you." A seriousness was in his voice as he spoke to Jacob. In a contest of strength, Lorenor knew he had his find beat. But in a contest of wits, perhaps the boy was his superior...just perhaps.

He certainly had a way with words. Such a pretty face, I do not wish to break it.

[The Writing Writer]

Jacob was amused by Lorenor's plea. He showed mercy, a most puzzling action by one so offensive to the senses. Yes it was puzzling, but it was also entertaining.

Jacob abandoned his combat stance for a more graceful, if rather inappropriate stance. He twirled in circles, standing on his toes, much like a ballerina. He chuckled quietly as he hummed a cheerful tune. He danced about, circling Lorenor, making sure to keep a significant space between himself and the smelly one.

This went on for about a minute before the mad poet grew bored with being a dancer. He stopped in the exact spot he had started his frolicking. Turning to face Lorenor, he grinned widely once again.

Come now Lorenor, don't let me down.
You'll turn this crooked smile to a frown.
All I want is to play for a bit.
We will fight for fun, if you prefer it.

I simply wish to test my fighting skill
Against one who is trained to kill.
If you teach me your art, I'll show you mine.
You teach me to fight, I'll teach you to rhyme.

Whether or not Lorenor would accept Jacob's proposal was of little difference to him. The adrenaline had already began pumping through his bloodstream and was spread throughout his entire body. Every inch of his body cried out for violence, and he would not ignore it's request.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

"I can see there will be no changing your mind. Very well. A spar it shall be then. We shall fight. You take the first strike Jacob."

Lorenor was being kind. Perhaps too kind to the young one. His eyes observed the youth throughout his entire strange ballad and finally when he stopped the erratic behavior. In a lot of ways, Jacob reminded Lorenor of himself. He was also that erratic, that unstable when he chose to be. Then why am I showing him such a mercy? Why can't I bring myself to harm him? Lorenor found himself lusting after the youth with a wanton vigor. He wanted a piece of the young man, what piece that would be? That would depend on the next couple of hours of the night.

Lorenor remained in his combat stance the entire time of the mad poet's frolic and dance. He remained undisturbed and unmoved. Lorenor had seen and been through too much for such a strange act to disturb him in anyway what so ever. If that was the youth's intent he had failed miserably. However, Lorenor was getting thoroughly entertained by the boy. He may have to pay him a little something for putting on such a tremendously good show for the ghoul. Lorenor waited for the youth to take first strike while he planned for any possibilities of attack that came his way. He wore a smile the whole time.

This is going to be fun but don't underestimate him.

[The Writing Writer]

Jacob could already feel it. That familiar extacy that overcame his senses in times like these. The thrill before the kill. The calm before the battle. All were the same. Of course in Jacob's case, the thrill before kill bit was more appropriate, as most of the time he began battle with an unexpected strike from the shadows. He was accustomed to ambushing.

This time was different however. He had no real way to ambush his opponent. He would have to fight him face to face. But of course, that didn't mean there weren't ways to manipulate the environment to his advantage. He would simply have to stay on his toes and keep the broken shards of his mind razor sharp.

Jacob moved to take a step forward towards Lornenor, assuming his odd combat position. However when his foot came to rest on the ground, it hit something hard. Jacob removed his foot from it's resting place and saw that he had stepped on a good sized rock. He bent down and picked it up. The rock was coarse, jagged, heavy; it was just big enough to fill the mad man's palm. The same old grin crept across Jacob's face, like nails on a chalk board.

Without any warning Jacob took off into a sprint towards Lorenor. His footsteps were fast, but his strides were long. He moved fast, sporadically, like lightening. He stretched his right arm back, gripping the rock tight. With all his might he flung it at Lorenor's featureless face.

Jacob kept sprinting even after he had thrown the rock. As he drew close to Lorenor, Jacob darted left, then right, then leapt at his dark opponent. He brought his right arm back again and threw a hard, quick punch at Lorenor's rib cage. It was doubtful that the rock had been enough to distract Lorenor, but it would have to do for now.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The battle began. The ghoul closed his eyes allowing a shadow to befall his entire person. Seemingly consuming him, the darkness was called to his person by the Endless. He stood in the same position that he previously stood at, relaxed, calculative. In a sudden moment, the youth grabbed a rock and lunged at Lorenor from his previous position. Like a hawk descending upon some foul rodent, Jacob moved on Lorenor.

Listening to his instincts, Lorenor waited to the last possible moment. Once he felt the wind begin to brush up against his face and his opponent was just close enough, Lorenor ducked down using his small size to his advantage.

His opponent had at least a head of height on him. He was also much more muscular which could prove a disadvantage to the smaller warrior who needed to rely on speed and wits. Ducking to just half an inch below the rock, Lorenor decided to depend upon his Monk's training.

Quickly, the ghoul released his own attack underneath the man's own. Preparing his fists for a skilled strike, Lorenor skillfully lunged both arms outward in a time strike. The target of the ghoul's attack was the lower thorax of his opponent. Lorenor was trying to find ways to prolong the battle as long as possible, so he struck at the unarmored poet with less strength than he would normally apply to such a maneuver. Lorenor wanted to inflict pain, but not permanently damage. After all this is not a battle to the death.

This is where his training in the Dajas Pagoda kicked in. All those battles disciplined the small warrior to learn complete self control in the heat of the moment. His movements were not sporadic. They were like a dance, each portion of the ballad carefully calculated and planned.

All around him, Lorenor heard the calls of the jungle. A strong breeze picked up that licked his skin. This put a twisted smile upon the ghoul's face that matched the poet's own madness. Underneath him, the ground felt like a completely solid place to walk on. Concordia became his new fighting arena where so many generations prior, the Bandit Brotherhood waylaid unsuspecting victims in these very jungles. His muscles knotted and prepared themselves for every movement that the small warrior would command against his opponent.

"I applaud you for sneakiness Jacob. But your maneuvers lack any real discipline. You should train to anticipate your enemy's attack before you actually commit yourself to attack. War is serious business my young apprentice. Put feeling into all of your strikes. Feelings seem to be something you know quite a bit about. Tell me young one, what is that has shattered your mind so that you're like this?"

Lorenor taunted the youth as he waited to see if his strike connected.

[The Writing Writer]

The ghoulish Lorenor easily evaded the rock Jacob had thrown. No suprise there. What was a bit more stirring was how easily Lorenor moved into a countering position. His knowledge of the art of war was clearly displayed in his fluid movement. He was able to easily spot an opening, and quickly moved to exploit it.

Two greasy fists crashed into Jacob's abdomen, just above his belly button. The blow had struck a soft area, and squeezed out much of the air Jacob had stored in his diaphragm. A cough forced it's way out of Jacob's mouth, followed immediately by a gasp of air. His eyes widened as his lungs fought for oxygen.

As Jacob caught his breath, Lorenor spoke, giving a bit of advice along with a carefully inserted taunt. Jacob chuckled. The dark one would have to do better than that if he wished to rouse the mad poet's emotions.

Jacob smiled, as quickly as Lorenor had countered Jacob's attack, the lyrical lunatic began a counter all his own. He grabbed Lorenor's fists, which were still plunged into his abdomen. He pulled them apart and back, as hard as he could. Jacob brought his knee up with all the force of a sledge hammer, aiming for Lorenor's upper chest. If his attack connected, he was sure that his ugly opponent would feel it.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Just as Jacob had expected, the maneuver worked better than planned. In fact, Lorenor stepped back a few paces as he felt the burning pain in his chest. The only thing that prevented it from being any worse than it was, was the fact that The Endless wrapped itself around the ghoul at the last possible second. It softened the tremendous impact that would've occurred otherwise. Lorenor clutched at his chest for a brief moment and wore a grin on his face.

Moving back into combat position, the ghoul coughed a couple of moments and readjusted himself. "Good one kid. I'll give you that, I wasn't expecting that. The key though is a disciplined approach. You're attacking on raw instinct, that's a no no with someone like me." With that the ghoul ducked low and speedily lunged at his opponent.

At the last moment, he ducked low once more, using his lack of height for his advantage. Attempting to get underneath the guard of his opponent, he hoped that he was successful in the first maneuver. If he was, he moved forward with a shoulder lunge, once again attacking the core of his enemy. Jacob's thorax. He grabbed his own wrists and prepared himself for any tricks that the boy might attempt.

Keeping himself in concentration mode, the ghoul allowed his senses to reach their peak potential. His face didn't betray any single thought or emotion, it was dead calm. His body moved fluidly and with tremendous skill. It obeyed his every command. Months of training in the Dajas Pagoda prepared the ghoul for this impromptu battle. And even before that, training with the Monks of Ai'bron. If his next maneuver connected, he had his plan ready for action.

He counted off the second in his head.

[The Writing Writer]

A rush of adrenaline pumped vigorously out of Jacob's heart as his knee connected with the chest of his gloomy opponent. This was a regular occurrence with Jacob. Every time he had been in a battle, he would find himself loving it more and more with every blow that he landed. There was little time for reminiscing however, as Lorenor was already on the attack once again.

Lorenor rushed at Jacob, seemingly trying to tackle the pale young man to the ground. At first, Jacob shifted his footing to take the blow and attempt to stand firm, but as Lorenor drew near, Jacob had a moment of clarity. He shifted his footing once again, only this time it was not to withstand the blow, but to instead take the fall. Jacob tightened the muscles in his stomach and prepared for impact.

Lorenor's shoulder plowed into Jacob's gut, smashing into the same area he had hit before. The pain was worse, but Jacob managed to keep the air in his lungs this time. As Lorenor's body crashed into Jacob's, he bent his body down, paralleling his body with Lorenor's. Jacob reached low and wrapped his arms around the scrappy little monster, falling back and lifting Lorenor's body vertically. If this worked correctly, Lorenor's own force combined with Jacob's weight would send the trained warrior's head crashing into the earth beneath them.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Feeling more than seeing, the ghoul felt his opponent's arms wrapping themselves about his person. Keeping his concentration on the moment at hand, the ghoul wouldn't allow himself to fall for such a maneuver. He had several options he could take at this point in time. He'd used just enough speed and strength to keep his body under his control. The movement had been perfectly time in order to solicit just a response.

Falling back on his close-range combat training, the ghoul revealed why he was the superior of the two. Planting his legs firmly on the ground, the small warrior suddenly shifting his body weight. Moving against the parallel positioning of his foe, the warrior corrected his center of gravity just enough so that he shifted his weight suddenly against the warrior afore him.

His movements were subtle, but well calculated. Attempting to solicit such a response from Jacob was key. Lorenor was letting the boy's over zealousness and confidence get the better of him. Already, the youth underestimated the skill and training of the ghoul. "This is why you will fail! All flash and no skill!

Lorenor really disliked the street-fighting ways of the youth. There was an extreme lack of discipline, but there was also a potential there. Lorenor decided upon the lesser of two evils. Instead of ending the battle quickly by biting him, the ghoul reached out with his powerful claws. Changing up the speed and tempo of the battle, Lorenor slashed outward with great discipline.

Where once his strikes were wild and unorthodox, training in the Pagoda and with the Monks made his strikes quite skilled. Lorenor waited for the boy to attempt to react, but the ghoul knew Jacob was at a loss now. With a strong desire to bite the youth developing, the ghoul restrained himself after a great effort. He waited to see if his dangerous claws connected to the youth's pectoral muscles...

[The Writing Writer]

If there was anything Jacob didn't have, it was flash. His sporadic movements were clumsy and awkward. Although it was understandable how one could mistake insanity for assertiveness, so Jacob did not hold Lorenor at fault for making his assumption.

The grotesque Lorenor's threats were not idle however, as he easily resisted Jacob's attempt to lift his body. He was a scrappy little monster, that much was certain. It was no matter however, Jacob's attack had failed but that didn't mean--

And then came the pain. Jacob could feel fire roaring on his chest. He wasn't sure what Lorenor had done to him as he could not see the wound at the moment, but it sure as hell hurt.

The mad poet chuckled at first, reveling at the new found sensation on his chest. It was quite the rarity for him to feel real pain, as most of his opponents never saw him coming. His high pitch laughter was much louder now. It pierced the night air like a finely sharpened candy cane.

Jacob's eyes grew wide as he looked down at Lorenor, who was still well within reach. With all the force he could muster, Jacob brought down both his elbows at once to crash into the monster's back. He aimed for what would normally be the spine. Whether or not Lorenor had a spine was a topic worthy of discussion, but such conversations would best be had after the battle.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Blood spilled from the injury he'd afflicted upon his opponent. Blood dripped down his claws and fell upon his face. A crimson stain dripped down his chin and it fueled the ghoul's hunger. Lorenor smiled widely. And then the sound came. It was a sound that was an unexpected sort of thing, the poet's laughter suddenly got louder with each passing moment. His sharp senses seemed to accentuate the laughter that much more potently. The night wore on, other predators hunted in the Concordia Forest as they continued their natural dance of life. Instinct.

That's all this game was to the ghoul. The night sky lacked a moon now, and the prison of the Dark Mother, N'Jal, signaled a second age of darkness. The ghoul could feel the presence of N'Jal amongst them now, though the Dark Mother was dormant.

Lorenor looked up at the sky for a moment to find a sense of comfort in the blanket of the starts lurking overhead. In that momentary distraction, the youth countered Lorenor in such a way, that it caught the ghoul completely off guard. Feeling a sharp pain in his lower back from the poet's elbow strikes, Lorenor cursed himself for allowing himself to become so carelessly open to his opponent.

The blow sent Lorenor tumbling down to the ground with tremendous pain in his lower back. Growling in agony, the ghoul felt as if something was attempting to break his spine. The blow was crushing. It was a skilled attack placed with quite a degree of strength and the endless chose not to assist him in battle. Without his armor, Lorenor tasted the full extend of the damage and this caused a sharp pain; similar to lightning cascading through his spinal column, to tumble through his nervous system. Lorenor's eye sockets went wide with the agony he felt.

A moment later, the undead wanted to terrorize the youth now. On the ground now, Lorenor focused his intent to lethal precision. He spit dirt from his mouth as he tasted worms from the earth. Worm bait. Not tonight you scum. Lorenor clutched at the earth beneath himself, and shifted his own body weight so that he could perform his next maneuver. Altering his center of gravity, the ghoul pushed forward with his body weight. Pivoting on an axis, the ghoul brought both of his legs up, in a full movement forward that left his head touching the ground. He sent his booted feet up in a powerful double kick towards his opponent's jaws. In one fell minute, his hands held up his body weight as the skilled melee fighter executed his plan. He was aiming to kick the man's jaws with both of his boots. Hopefully, he would succeed with the improvised handstand double kick.

[The Writing Writer]

There was a certain feeling one felt when an attack hit the intended target. It was a sense of accomplishment, of pride. Such feelings often accelerated the flow of adrenaline through the human body. In some cases, this boost in adrenaline sent the attacker into a wild frenzy. Jacob was no exception.

His hands shook violently as he gazed down at Lorenor. He had hurt him, that much was obvious. That knowledge alone forced a smile on the mad poet's face. His laughter continued as he reached down to take hold of Lorenor's long hair, but the monstrosity was too quick. He spun around quickly on the ground and shot his legs out at Jacob's unguarded face.

Purely by reflex, Jacob jerked his head back, attempting to dodge the blow, but he was not entirely successful. Lorenor's booted heals crashed into Jacob's brow, sending the pale young man airborne. His body paralleled with the earth beneath him and for a brief moment, Jacob could see the sky. The moon was gone now, and only the stars remained. There were so many of them. He wondered, just how many there could possibly be.

The mad poet's body crashed heavily onto the ground, sending dust into the night air. Jacob let out a deep sigh, the adrenaline once coarsing through his veins had faded away. It had been replaced by a sense of dizziness. Jacob continued to lay flat on his back, watching the sky spin round and round.

" You fight well my friend, I must admit.
But do not mistake me, I shall not submit.
First I must ask, if you'll teach me your ways.
Could you teach this poet the fray?

I've nothing to give in exchange, I'm afraid.
But I can offer to you my aid.
Should you need a service or favor,
You need only ask. I'll be your savior. "

Jacob slowly rose to his feet, struggling a bit as he was still a bit disoriented from the blow to his head. He managed to stand, though he swayed to and fro trying to keep his balance. He was spent for the moment and would not be able to continue fighting Lorenor in such a manner. He hoped that the grease monster would not deny his request.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

And in a somewhat disappointing moment, very anticlimactic to the ghoul, the battle ended. Lorenor continued his movement until the full flip landed the agile little bugger on his feet. He shook the dirt off his body and relished in the pain coursing through his back. Indeed, Jacob had hurt the ghoul. This meant that the mad poet had great potential to be a skilled fighter and Lorenor could help him out with that. Or could he? Was Lorenor a sufficiently skilled enough warrior to teach the craft of combat to another? He pondered this for a moment and remained silent.

Catching his breath he carefully listened to Jacob's request. Such a pretty face. I'm sorry I had to injure it. Lorenor looked down at the moonless sky observing it for a moment. A deep red star remained in the sky as a reminder of the Dark Mother, now upon them all. Lorenor returned his gaze towards Jacob. Walking over to the lad's position, he quickly covered the ground between the former position and his current position. Lorenor extended his hand to assist the fallen lad in standing up.

"Teach you my craft? That's a most interesting proposition. As long as the lessons buy loyalty, I can definitely part with some of the knowledge I've obtained in the craft of warfare. It takes a lot of skill and a lifetime of dedication, like your skill with spoken verse. You've dedicated yourself to the verse, you can definitely dedicate yourself to warfare." Lorenor said trying to instill the teachings of the Monks of Ai'bron. "Do you know water? You must be formless. But with the rage of a flowing tidal wave. The whole body is a weapon for you to utilize. And as a reward? I would kindly accept thy friendship and membership into the Red Hand. You are a skilled lad. I see potential in you."

[The Writing Writer]

Though the blade was always an efficient killing tool, it was not always the blade that determined the outcome of a battle. The smallest grain of sand out of place could knock a warrior off balance. The slightest miscalculation by the strategist could alter the course of a war. It is not always a noticeable thing that changes destinies. It is often something small, seemingly insignificant. Something like, a misunderstanding.

Lorenor's words poured into Jacob's ears like warm grease blended with dead animal fat and fresh saliva from a rabid dog. In short, Lorenor's voice was not a pleasant one. It was difficult to understand him at times. He spoke as if he did not have a tongue.

The strange creature spoke of water, asking if Jacob knew it. Of course Jacob knew water. He was a lunatic, not a moron. However the concept of moving as the water did in combat was new to Jacob. The idea was intriguing. Perhaps Lorenor, though quite offensive to all five senses, would make a good teacher after all. But as far as becoming affiliated with this, Red Hand, Jacob was not interested. His allegiance was hard to aquire, and it was reserved for individuals, not groups.

" Oh silly man, you've made a mistake.
Though you've gained my trust and it's hard to break,
My alliance is with you and no other.
I've no interest in your clan brothers. "

Jacob was firm in this. It was a rare thing to earn the respect of the mad poet, and it was not something to be taken idly, spread amongst others who had done nothing to prove their worth. Jacob was open to Lorenor's teachings, and would aid him if he ever needed aid, but that would be the extent of their relationship.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Walking over to the mad poet, Lorenor's boots were without sound. He walked with a controlled, agile movement that showed his skilled level of training. As he walked over to Jacob person the ghoul nodded. Earning friendship was something sometimes far more important than anything else, he could ask Jacob to join the Red Hand after he's met with Lord Sorahn and Ranger Nailo. He knelt down towards Jacob and observed the lad for a long moment.

"Your friendship is hard earned my friend. I've a feeling that there will be no regret in such a transaction. 'Tis a pity you won't consider joining the Red Hand, but at the very least I would like you to consider meeting my allies. For there is strength in numbers, that is also a truth about warfare. The stronger your allegiances the easier it is to usurp control from the enemy." Lorenor paused, the first lessons always the trickiest. He got up from his position near to Jacob's and found a sturdy, thick, oak branch. He tore off the smaller branches and tossed them aside leaving only the core of the item. Walking back towards Jacob, he handed the thick wooden stick towards the youth.

"Train with this. This is to be the start of your career. Strike against trees, small monsters, worthy opponents. Anything that chooses to make itself your target. You are trike a hundred times. Naye. A thousand times. Until your knuckles bleed and your arms are burning with agony. Then you keep going. When your motions become fluid and are like the flowing of a wave, then I will give you a true wooden sword. You will train as I have trained." Lorenor thought carefully about how to proceed next. "When you are ready I'll forge you an Iron Sword to defend yourself with."

Lorenor finished talking and sat down next to his newly acquired friend. Where would things go from there? The ghoul wasn't certain. However, he knew that Jacob would follow him to the end. This was most interesting, in round about sort of way, the ghoul would later learn that he was forging his own destiny with each follower he gained. Unknowingly forcing the hands of time inevitably forward towards an unavoidable future. A future that would affect them all. Lorenor looked up at the night sky and saw a black canopy, littered with twinkling stars and no moon. The moon was gone. Lorenor felt great discomfort in that. But there was a comfort in friendship.

The End.

[The Writing Writer]

A stick? Jacob was to fight a tree with a stick? There was a glorious irony in this idea. To strike at a tree with it's own branch, like beating a man with his own arm. This made Jacob laugh...again. He laughed loud and hard, holding his gut and dropping to the ground. The mad poet rolled about as his insane laughter continued.

Then, quite suddenly, without any warning what so ever, the Writer rose to his feet and charged at a nearby oak, swinging his new ' weapon ' with great force.

" Here I come you big bad tree!
My advice to you would be to flee!
For my strikes are hard and sure connect!
When I'm through with you, there'll be only bark left! "

Jacob's stick crashed into the trunk of the great oak, sending splinters as well as chips of bark into the air. Jacob repeated his attack, smacking the tree with his stick over and over again. The cracking of the stick echoed like a metronome into the night.

The mad poet's thoughts trailed off as he fought with the tree. The mad poet did not enjoy the idea of meeting new people without trying to rob them of their skin, but still, if he wished to continue training with Lorenor, he had best do as the monster wished. When the time was right, Jacob would retrieve his skin as well, but for now, Jacob would leave him be. And that, was what friendship was to Jacob; a delay of the inevitable.

Closing post.

[Ataraxis]

Quest Judging
Hunter’s Eve 3

Top o’ the morning to you, chaps! This comes in a bit later than I said it would, but then again neither of you paid me my twenty bucks, so we’re okay! In any case, I’ll try and keep this short, sweet and to the point!

Red for Lor, Yellow for TWW!

STORY

Continuity ~

L ~ 6/10. – I like how you mentioned the current state of affairs in Althanas. You talked about Alex, Sorahn and Ranger, but you only expounded on who they were with titles like Rune Witch and Lord – not a bad thing, but not quite enough. His training in the Pagoda and with the Monks was a good thing to tell the reader, but once or twice would’ve been enough. I know his goal is to free N’Jal and that he’s in the forest to hunt and think away from the city, but that’s a pretty vague reason, and I’m not sure where he’d been before the start of the quest.

W ~ 4/10. – I learned little to nothing about Jacob, unfortunately. I didn’t know why he was stumbling around the forest, didn’t learn much about his past, his objectives, nor did I get any insight on his madness and its cause thereof. His appearance was random at best: saying that the ‘last few days’ had been a blur, then leaving it at that, sounded like a convenient excuse to overlook this category. If you’d explained why it was a blur or included sudden flashes of his lost time throughout the battle, you’d have gotten a considerable boost here and in technique!

Setting ~

L ~ 5/10 – There were descriptions, but they were few and far between, most of them found in the first few posts. Off the top of my head, I can remember descriptions about the moon and the night skies, maybe a few about the trees, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that made me think that the setting was beyond the typical Forest RP. I used to write on Gaia, so I’ve read my share of those, believe me! Try adding those little details of realism that are so often omitted, and integrate it as seamlessly as possible into the narrative: I’ve seen you do it at times, before: you just need to get the hang of it, then keep it all throughout.

W ~ 4/10 – Much like Lor, you began adequately in this category, then somewhat dropped it as the battle went on. Around post twelve or so, neither of you really bothered with anything more than the most basic of descriptions. Jacob did interact with his environment, picking up a rock here and a stick there, which got you half a point, but there really could have been a lot more to make the landscape more vivid than the faded image of Sherwood that I kept picturing!

Pacing ~

L ~ 5/10 – Not much happened in this quest other than the random meeting, talk-spar-talk-some-more and leave. It’s okay, that’s how most battles go anyway! Still, I don’t see a reason for it to take twenty-post as opposed to seven less. The fight in itself was not particularly gripping and dragged on, and your heavy use of technical descriptions bogged things further down when I expected the pace to pick up. For example:


‘Falling back on his close-range combat training, the ghoul revealed why he was the superior of the two. Planting his legs firmly on the ground, the small warrior suddenly shifting his body weight. Moving against the parallel positioning of his foe, the warrior corrected his center of gravity just enough so that he shifted his weight suddenly against the warrior afore him.’

And:


‘Lorenor clutched at the earth beneath himself, and shifted his own body weight so that he could perform his next maneuver. Altering his center of gravity, the ghoul pushed forward with his body weight.’

Repeated words, wrong tense and unnecessary use of archaic terms set aside (but not ignored in mechanics), I think you can see how this type of description worked against you. Instead of saying, for example, at which angle Bob lifts his foot and how much power he puts into the back leg to propel his body at x distance and y height in hopes of connecting with his opponent’s maxillary, why don’t you try a simple ‘kick to the jaw’ from time to time, give or take a few words? I’d say that action scenes are a place for brevity as opposed to still descriptions where details abound; however, you use the same style for both occasions.

W ~6/10 – You carry the point across faster, and that does a lot for your score here. You usually know when to dwell on something important and when to vault over something else that’s merely a formality. Keyword, usually: there are times at which you’re susceptible to beat around the bushes as well. You also have a poetic style that leans toward excessively flowery, which hindered the pacing a bit. Otherwise, your posts were easy to read through and flowed quite nicely.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~

L ~5/10 – You’d think after a few quests, I’d catch on to Lor’s personality, but this time again I find myself facing a different ghoul. His manner of speech is still similar, but this time he really seems to enjoy speaking in clichés! Be wary of those, or he’ll eventually say things like ‘is that all you’ve got’ or ‘nobody can save you now’ – that, or he’ll start reversing polarities. I didn’t get a very clear feel of him through his dialogue, which consisted mainly of circumlocution. It was a good idea to have him try imitating Jacob, though!

W ~7/10 – I’d have given you more for making him speak in verses all the time – because that’s just a fresh breath of wind – but there are times when he seemed to rhyme for the sake of rhyming and his rhythm threw me off at a few points. Still, you’ve expressed his madness very well through his poetry, and his underlying personality as well. Then again, if you hadn’t though, then you’d have a bit of a problem, eh?

Action ~

L ~ 6/10 – Basically, you wrote Lorenor as being a melee badass, but within the realm of acceptable. The fight was pretty basic stuff, but using his claws as a last resort against Jacob and having his bio-armor shift its form to protect him then do nothing to dampen the next strike was an interesting pinch of spices to the stew. As for his actions in general, well his reluctance to wound Jacob’s face was a good detail, though his motives for ‘sparring’ with him were a bit hard to believe. Of course, he tried to recruit the kid into Gol’Bron by making a deal, something that’s quite normal for him, that greedy bastard.

W ~ 6.5/10 – You played him off as he should be played, skilled in some fields but all around average, dementia excluded. He wasn’t overpowered and he reacted well in that beginner’s frenzied ‘thrashing about’ kind of way. Throwing the rock was a decent diversion, though nothing exceptional. Charging the oak tree with a stick was a lot better, though: shows just how deranged he is.

Persona ~

L+W ~ 5.5/10 – Both showed a good range of emotions, but I have to admit that neither really seemed to pop out of the mould in this battle. One was crazy but not batshit crazy or comically crazy, while the other was an ambiguous character with an ambiguous sexual orientation. Both we’re equally arrogant, making this more like a battle of egos: they kept calling each other’s bluffs and basically, this was a very long round of ping pong. I realize it makes a writer proud when their characters come off as strong, witty and difficult to faze, but it’s usually not the kind of thing to catch the reader’s interest.


WRITING STYLE

Technique ~

L ~ 4.5/10 – There’s not much to say here: as I’ve said before, your style is a balance of poetical and technical; only, when it’s one or the other, you really go to the extremes. You’re also still telling rather than showing: there’s been a lot of references at how skilled Lorenor is, but that’s just it. How skilled is he? Tremendously? That doesn’t quite paint the picture. Try using similes to give your readers a point of reference, and then how you envision Lorenor will be conveyed that much easier.

W ~ 5/10 – You get the advantage here for using verses for your dialogue. Otherwise, you more or less have the same highs and lows as Lor. Just a suggestion, you might make more vibrant speeches if you didn’t force yourself into a rhyming scheme, since that’s not essential to poetry. If you still want to do it, then play around with them a little or try your hand at sonnets, sestinas and, yes, you guessed it, haikus!

Mechanics ~

L+W ~ 6/10 – This wasn’t horrible, far from it. Only, there a lot of mistakes that got in the way and made reading a bumpy ride. It’s/its mistakes for both of you: wrong words, repeated words, sometimes awkward syntax and a handful of spelling mistakes and typos. Here are a few ones from the middle of the battle, which, I presume, is when you guys started slacking off on spell-checking and the such! Bad! Odd numbers are Lor, even are Writing Writer:


His high pitch laughter(16) high-pitched
the blanket of the starts lurking overhead(17) stars
Lorenor tasted the full extend(17) extent
He spit dirt from his mouth (17) spat
adrenaline once coarsing through (18) coursing
aquire (20) acquire
are trike a hundred times. (21) Not sure what you meant
Clarity ~

L ~ 6/10 – Because of the technical-heavy side of your style, I was often assaulted by a slew of superfluous information that did more to confuse me than to explain what was going on. It wasn’t all the time, however, and the rest was fairly easy to read through. By managing a good balance between brevity and detail, you’d manage a much higher score here, but as it is, it’s either too precise or not nearly enough.

W ~ 7/10 – You didn’t stumble so much and kept your posts sensibly similar in quantity and quality, so nothing really gave me any trouble. That, however, doesn’t warrant anything higher. Clarity here would be akin to ‘seeing the world on a cloudy day’, while eight or nine would be ‘light and sunny’, ten being ‘oh shit, make three right turns and you find Nirvana’.


MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~

L+W ~ 5/10 – I didn’t prefer one’s writing over the other’s, so I’m giving you both the same score. This battle didn’t exactly have the most original of premises and didn’t have as much content as I would’ve wanted, but it was a consistent effort and hey, it’s not too shabby!

TOTAL

54 for Lorenor!
56 for The Writing Writer!

The Writing Writer is the Winner!


EXP Rewards

Lorenor V'halkulus gains : 450 XP!

Jacob Zachary Buhrkheardt gains : 1510 XP!


GP Rewards

Lorenor V'halkulus gains : 125 GP!

Jacob Zachary Buhrkheardt gains : 500 GP!


Other Rewards

Lorenor V'halkulus gains: The rapping skills of Josh Tobin, aka the gangster who says ‘grr’.

Jacob Zachary Buhrkheardt gains: A stick, a few splinters and a beer coupons to ‘Ram Rods’, where nothing is served straight.


FINAL NOTES

Congratulations, men! And I know, I say it'll be short, but it never is!

I need a fix, or you two are going down, down to the bits that I’ll leave up~ toooooown!

Seriously, get me twenty bucks, NOW !

[Karuka]

EXP/GP added! The Writing Writer levels up!