Round starts May 3rd, 12:01 AM CST. The Fiery Chef Vs The Not-A-Kobold! Good Luck!
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Round starts May 3rd, 12:01 AM CST. The Fiery Chef Vs The Not-A-Kobold! Good Luck!
The trenches were long abandoned. Filled with brush, rocks covered in moss and grasses growing tall in the sun, they were beginning to fill in. One time they had been fresh wounds, now they were scars left by the civil war. Like all scars, there would come a day when they would be gone completely. The field where the trenches had been dug backed up against a forest that had once been lush and green. Billy knew, because he had grown up there. He lay along the slope of the trench, just peeking over the ridge to watch the forest, and remembered.
The beauty of thick ferns and tangled weeds was gone now, left only by charcoal stains between the trees. Rock and gravel were dotted amongst the black earth like bones jutting from grave dirt. The trees were mostly untouched, scorched at the bottom of the trunks and already those at the edge had been felled. While he was sure they weren’t all bad, he still didn’t understand humans.
Laying in a ravine dug in the name of war, staring at the destruction of his home in the name of turning wood into coins, he wondered if he ever would.
What a hopeless place, he thought quietly to himself as he navigated through the battered cutting grounds, and thought he could make out some of the types of trees that had been cut down, a fern there, a spruce beside it. Certainly not a place he would use for a first date, but this is where he would be finding his opponent. It might actually help if he knew what he/she/it looked like. Although he had to concede to himself, that this was partially his fault, for the only reason he was in the tournament was the human with the actual invitation that he challenged and fought. Even with him winning the engagement he tried not to think of it, as it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Breaking from his inner musings, he continued his journey forward, making sure not to step on the dried leaves and dead twigs on the ground that would assuredly announce his presence to everyone within 100 paces. Eventually he felt a prickle on the small of his back, almost as if he were being watched... Widening his eyes he realized with abject horror the truth. He CHOSE these fighting grounds, he knows im coming and is expecting me! The smart decision would obviously to lay a trap for him in these woods, especially for someone more familiar with them who could just as easily lie in wait as he might count the cards when playing with a bunch of drunken louts. He stopped walking and decided to stay where he was, prepared to shine a light so bright as to blind or counter any assaults with hand to hand combat.
Billy Corgyn had been raised among the fae of Concordia, but he had never in his life seen an angel. He only caught a glimpse of the man wandering through the burnt forest. However, the slants of light that filtered down through the thin canopy had given their shine to brilliant golden hair and loose clothes that seemed to not fit just right somehow. The kobold had chosen his perch mostly out of comfort and boredom.
"Can't leave the poor boy wandering the forest forever," he mused. "Wouldn't be right."
Getting to his feet, Billy lifted his staff above his head and waved it back and forth as he adjusted his glasses. The corgyn wasn't sure if he was right in joining up with this tournament. The fortune teller wasn't the fighting type, but if he was going to save his homeland, he needed power. The tournament promised money and glory and at least one of those would gain him some clout. With a wag of his brown tail and and cheerful bark, he began to call to his opponent.
"Dros yma!" he yelled. "I'm Billy, how're you!?"
Startled out of his fearful reverie, the otherworldly eyes of Michael zeroed in on the corgyn. So he isn't going to ambush me. He breathed a sign of relief. "I am just fine 'Billy', and a good day to you, no doubt you know I will be your opponent." Normally he would have immediately attacked the dog creature upon hearing its voice, but something about the way it perked up and barked reminded him of a dog he had taken in years past. "I suppose we should be getting to it, no point in standing around and talking, that can always be done after the fight. Shedding his cow-hide trenchcoat and letting his battered wings extend to their full width, wincing as they did so.
Michael sized up his opponent and was immediately the utter opposite of impressed, this being had entered the tournament out of necessity, not sport. He would feel bad for this. All gods above! He didn't know if he would even be able to assault the little guy. Maybe a blow to the small of his head would knock him unconscious and end the fight without too much of a struggle. He started forward, breaking into s sprint and leapt into the air above, intending to make a head over heels tumble and strike the corgyn in the back of his head with his booted ankle, and preparing to catch his balance in case it was blocked.
Birdman? the Corgyn thought when he saw the angel’s wings unfold. It was a shame, he thought as it was announced the fight would start without more ceremony, he didn’t even know this fellow’s name. And yet, he would have to put the young man in his place. Before he could so much as straighten his jacket or loosen the red cowl from around his neck, Michael had sprang.
The movement was fast, as fast as a fae warrior might ever be. Billy had learned his spells from the best, though, and managed to counter with a wave of his hand. A rush of wind came at his bidding and acted as a barrier between him and the heel of his attacker. Not bothering to see if the angel had been sent flying or merely slowed, he rolled away and came up with a swing of his staff, meaning to swat at the warrior as surely as one would swat at a fly.
Instead of a solid impact as he was expecting, Michael's foot was greeted to a barrier that stopped his leg for a moment, before giving away partially. His foreleg sunk into the barrier and then it snapped back into place, launching him away from the corgyn and sending him into an uncontrolled tumble, head over heels. This lasted for a fleeting moment until he expanded his wings and caught air, from their it was a simple task of landing on his feet. Light, that dog is better than I thought, up close that felt like fae magic, I am sure of it. Michael noted grimly. This was no longer going to be the easy fight he had expected.
Glancing over he frowned when Billy came out of his roll in a fluid attacking motion and looked for emotion in the corgyns features. With an attack like that it almost seemed like the barrier was expected to stop him outright, it almost did, he had put all his strength into it and he could feel it slightly give way before the dreadful rebound. He leaped forwards this time towards his opponent's front with a fireball composed of holy flame in his palm. This had a purpose, with his combatant having an advantage in reach with that staff of his; the only option was to go in with the attention of taking a blow himself. The attack however would leave the corgyn wide open for a counter-attack, and probability said that his opponent did not have his regenerative factor, so he was willing to take hits more than one might expect.
His snout exploded with pain, white and hot. Lights danced in his vision and the Corgyn dropped his staff as his hands immediately went to his muzzle. He didn't know or care if his attempt to swipe at the Birdman like a fly had hit or missed. With a quick conjure, water poured from his palms to soothe the burnt flesh and when they came away, singed hair and a red and bloody nose was to show for it. Behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed into a scowl, brows furrowing and lips turning upwards to show the sharp teeth in his mouth. With a growl, he lurched forwards, intending on biting anywhere he could get. The jig was up, and Billy Corgyn was done fooling around.
Success! Michael thought as his attack hit home, that is until the corgyns staff made a very heartfelt greeting to his face and broke his nose. Fuck!, He was not planning to even bother setting his nose, as his regeneration restored things to their proper place even if they were completely ass-backwards at first glance. He made the motion out of habit though, which turned out to save his life as the fangs that had been aimed at his throat instead latched around his forearm. As soon as his teeth hit home the little mutt braced his clawed feet against his chest for a foothold and scrambled to yank his head and swing his arms to tear up Michael's arm and chest respectively.
The Archangel grinned at this, these close quarters grappling situations were what he lived for! He started his offensive by bringing his fist down towards the corgyns head, although he couldn't tell if he had hit home or his own arm... He repeated this a few times then attempted a swing at the midsection currently at home hanging from his arm and hosting appendeges that were assaulting his chest. He finished off the exchange by grappling Billy's shoulders with his free arm and began to radiate light with all of his might. His own flesh emitted wisps of smoke a bit and it became clear that he was attempting to burn the corgyn while also trying to pull him closer. He had to grit his teeth from the pain of feeling his own meat cooking, after all this tactic was only applying some of the heat from his holy fire to his skin. Trying as he was with all his might to keep the corgyn from disengaging the grapple, he could only hope that he did not notice his wounds closing ever so slowly and wondered what would cook first, the inside of his mouth or the shoulders that Michael had a grip on.
His growls as he tore into the angel's forearm soon turned to yelps as pain as the skin beneath his teeth began to flash and burn. He could smell the cooking meat, and he began to salivate. It was almost enough to soothe the pain from his heat-numbed tongue to his aching gums. A ball of ice formed in one of his hands and he intended to throw it into his opponents face, except there wasn't any time. A thick fist came down hard on the top of his skull. The pain wasn't as brilliant as the flashes of white that danced in front of his eyes. Again and again, he was struck until finally he let go.
A dizzying wave of nausea crept over him and then the edges of his vision went from crisp, clear, spotted with white to a hazy dark. It swooped in to consume him as surely as night would come to the sky above the forest. When he fell to the ground, his muzzle to the charred earth, the ball of ice rolled from his hand. Bits of charcoal and black bark clung to it, and as it lay still, so did the Corgyn. Unconscious, he dreamed of a forest untouched by forest or axe.
(I know tobias and dirks heard this already, but i have permission for all bunnies.)
He stood over the unconscious body of his foe and thought that thing is actually pretty cute when it sleeps. hmmm. Michael had always loved dogs, cats or animals of all kinds, and this one reminded him so much of Susan, the corgi he had as a boy. Smiling to himself he gathered the corgyn into his arms, even as his roasted muscles cried out in protest. His new Susan would need a collar, so she didn't run off and get lost, and toys! How could he forget the squeeky toys! Oh this was going to be so fun! What about a doggy house? He could have one set up for him at Fallien. Or maybe the climate wouldn't be all that great with that fur, he frowned. Maybe he could get set up in a nice big city, a big mansion with a balcony. The family mansion! How could he have forgotten. Shaking his head and chuckling, he set off.
He trotted along the beaten path towards the sunset with hopeful thoughts filling his head for his future....
Billy woke slowly, the throbbing in his head duller now than when he had let the black consume him. The first thing he noticed was the lilting tumble of piano keys as a soft melody floated down the hall. He dragged himself to a sitting position, shakily pushing himself up against the soft cushion under him. As large brown eyes blinked slowly, he adjusted the glasses perched on his nose and took in the room around him. Aside from the powder blue cushion he'd been resting on, the floor and walls were white marble. Paintings were framed in gold, and a chandelier cast warm light through the room. His cushion had been propped by an armchair, the velvet upholstery a deep navy. Ahead, a balcony opened up to gardens, and a soft breeze blew in. It was nice, but definitely not the arena in which he had been fighting the last he remembered.
Absently, he went to scratch at his neck when underneath his cowl he felt a strange band. It was a leather collar, and after a moment he was able to slip the buckle and remove it. Once it was off and in his hands, he could see that a small golden tag dangled, glinting in the light. His fingers found the bauble and flipped it over, staring down at the script.
SUSAN
"Beth mae'r uffern?" he swore, casting the collar to the side. On shaky feet he stood, padding out into the room. Luckily his staff had been kept with him, and he used it to steady himself. As he approached the balcony, he swayed and glared down at his feet as if to chide them into submission. Had his toenails been painted? The clawtips were red as a robin's breast. He had to get out of here. As he approached the balcony, a voice called from some far hallway.
"Susan?! Susan, are you awake?"
His heart pounding in his throat, Billy took off in a run for the balcony.
"Susan?! Susan, are you awake?" Michael rounded the corner and found a nasty surprise in the form of an empty blue cushion. "SUSAN! You can't go running off on your own, you will get lost!" The pitter of small panicked footsteps made him look over to see a small furry form leap from the balcony and onto the waste bin outside. He ran after just as fast and grabbed an animal catching noose in his pursuit. Leaping from the balcony in one bound he gave chase to the corgyn fleeing from him. The chase took them through the cities back alleys and busy market places. That was some remarkable speed for being injured. After a time he stopped giving chase and decided it would be easier to just track down his dog. All it would take is to contact his people in the different areas in the world and someone would eventually come forward with a dog matching the description, Susan would not get away and he would get his dog back eventually...
Thread is Closed to be judged shortly.
Alrighty, here's the quick run down, with full feedback.
JLScrolls-
Story: 6- while goofy toward the end, your story element took the innate tournament battle theme and twisted it into a parody that felt light hearted and evoked giggles. You would benefit greatly from expounding on personal reasons for competing, or emotions- a story that adds no depth to the perspective character quickly feels hollow or pointless. For all that it lacked, the way that your writing showcased the character's traits redeemed it well enough.
Setting: 3- unlike other areas, your use of the setting is almost non existent. As far as the overall story and thematic elements of writing go, this is your weakest area. Simplistic additions of your character's surroundings, brief mentions or specific details, can help bring more life to your writing. Overall, I see a distinct lack of imagery or true descriptive substance in what you write, instead placing focus on what your character thinks or feels. You need to find a balance between the two, one that does exemplifies the best of both worlds to your audience. Remember, if your character exists in a dynamic, ever-shifting world. Use that world.
Pacing: 4.5- No real strengths or weaknesses her, except that you jump from the arena to a mansion with precious little pretense. That jump is jarring and weakens the story because it raises more questions than it answers. You don't want to spoon feed anything to your audience, but you also don't want to leave them with nothing at all. Be sure to give closure and build transitions between scenes or concepts. The flow of the piece should be smooth, with just enough turbulence to accentuate when there is conflict. Everything you write blends together to create the finished product.
Action: 4.5- a lot of your action writing is subtly repetitive and your ideas come off slightly unformed. In your final post, you state in several sentences, several different ways, that you're giving chase to Billy. You need to learn not to restate ideas, and how to expound on something without beating it to death.
Communication: 5- Your communication here seems forced. From the introduction, "hello, "Billy," I am sure you know that I am your opponent-" Why make an assumption? Why force feed that dialogue between them, or for that matter, why jump immediately into the fight? Remember that communication is your chance to build and shape how the audience perceives your character. Do you want them to see a rigid, calculator of a man, or is he deeper than that? It's easy to fall into the trap of stating things plainly- don't do it. The story is shaped by occurrences, actions, and strife, not directly what the characters say. There is more to your interactions than what you say, unlike what you are probably used to from previous role playing sites, where what you say is what is known, and ooc knowledge- something your character knows, but someone else does not- is not ic knowledge. That's true here too, but a story has many different factors. You have far more tools than dialogue. It's not a surgical tool.
Persona: 5- This thread gives a decent look into the fact that Michael is fighting, but not necessarily why. You can see more of a nonsensical side to him toward the end, but again, there is very little depth. Concentrate more on shaping the character, beyond mendacious things like thought and directive. Give the character a reason, and a purpose, give him drive, and breathe life into him.
Mechanics: 4- One of your weaker areas, you will benefit greatly from proofreading and editing. In the future for your competitive writing, you may want to seek the aid of a judge or another writer to go over your writing, until you become sharp enough to critique your own writing. (A Critical Eye requires time, experience, and patience to hone.)
I'll use this paragraph for an example:
You missed an end quotation mark, and the final sentence in the first paragraph is inconclusive, subject wise. What I mean is, you state he is shedding his coat and extending his wings. The way it is written, the actions do not explain why he does, and the sentence pattern is meant for that purpose. Instead, you could break it into several independent clauses and simply state the actions, which requires no justification. Here:Quote:
Originally Posted by JLScrolls
"He shed his cow-hide trenchcoat. His battered wings stretched out to their full span."
Or, you could simplify it like this, as a single sentence:
"He shed his cow-hide trenchcoat and his battered wings stretched out to their full width."
Technique: 5- See above example, your sentence patterns could be simplified to greater effect. Sometimes, all the things you want to say should be spread out over the length of a paragraph, a post, or even an entire thread. Clumping too much together in one place bogs down your writing and makes it incredibly difficult for a reader to remain focused. Erratic thoughts by the writer make a difficult read for his audience.
Clarity: 4- as with your technique and mechanics score, some of your writing came off clunky or forced. In places, it made your message unclear or dense, and weakened the overall read.
Wildcard: 5- This is your first tournament, and you did surprisingly well. Like me, you came from a t1 site, where battles and interactions are done from one post to the next, and things don't always necessarily weave together cohesively. You are still learning to work together with other writers to tell a story, but you did so here surprisingly well toward the end. I can see improvement, and that's what competitive writing is all about. Cheers.
Smushing Pumpkins-
Story: 4- At the beginning, your impetus for the battle was solid and Billy seemed laid back and almost more interested in having fun than fighting. That quickly shifted as you were forced into a battle, and it felt like that shifted the entire tone of the piece. You go on to roll with it well, but it visibly (and unfortunately!) changed what you intended to do.
Setting: 5- your description is superb. Perhaps too much in some places, you do bring the room or space that your character occupies to life, but you could cut out some of the bit about curtains or the unnecessary pieces of furniture, unless they are integral to the plot. It puts your writing in danger of becoming too "flowery."
Pacing: 4- the end, where Corgyn passes out and wakes up in captivity. The reason you come out slightly weaker here is because you were forced to write more reactively, and it felt like you had to dig deep to generate the last few posts.
Action: 5- little things like scratching at his neck or adjusting his collar really punctuated the fact that Billy is, essentially, a human dog. The way you used subtle writing to remind the reader of an easily forgotten, but important fact about your character is a strong technique, and not utilized nearly enough. On the downside, the danger comes in overdoing it, and detracting from other aspects of your writing. Too much emphasis on his doglike tendencies might steal some of the thunder from his more fantastic attributes. It catered to the subjugation piece at the end, but it almost felt like Billy lost the humanity that made his character unique.
Communication: 5- because of a real lack of communication in this thread, it was genuinely difficult to garner a high score here. The monologues from Billy drove this up slightly from a low score, and the physical responses on his part exhibited his character well.
Persona: 4- Corygn is animated throughout the thread and the writing showcases his emotions. Unfortunately, the audience felt that the writing got boggled and downplayed past a certain point, and that ultimately limited the full scope we had of Billy's persona.
Mechanics: 5- Nothing major to touch on, your sentences gravitate between short and punching to complex and informational. A strong blend of structures is key to changing the writing up and spicing the voice that the audience hears. You do this fairly well already.
Technique: 4- Your literary techniques are strong and in particular you paint a brilliant picture with your imagery. Toward the end of the thread, when the tone took a divergence from the serious, your posts seemed to get shorter and more "from the hip," and it bit into the quality of your writing. Your use of a fantasy language is also enjoyable.
Clarity: 5- not incredibly much to touch on, mostly because your writing is clear and concise. The biggest issue in the clarity comes at the end, where Corgyn is made a pet. This is more jarring and took the audience a moment to recover from.
Wildcard: 4- minor infraction for tardiness on a single post. Not a damning factor. Thread overall was silly toward the end, but ultimately served the purpose of a tournament battle- with a pleasant surprise at the end. The fact that you worked with the new player and found a humourous outlet is worth a round of applause. Without the docked point, your wildcard scores are the same.
46 to 45
JLScrolls advances to Round 2. Congratulations!
Smushing Pumpkins is eliminated. Better luck next time!
JLScrolls gains 500 Exp and 90 Gold.
Smushing Pumpkins gains 150 Exp and 40 Gold.