Into the Maw

Quote:

---

Closed to BlueGhostofSeaside

---

Heat…

William inhaled deeply, allowing the brimstone tinted air to flow through him as if he were savoring a fine wine. Truthfully, at this height the heat from the Maw was less than the heat that he himself put out, but fire was his element and it made him feel more at home. Tensed muscles loosed their grip as William sighed, letting the heat within him recede and the heat outside wrap around him like a lover’s embrace.

It had been a long time, too long, since William had last partaken in the pleasures afforded to him by the Citadel. But that had been rectified, and now he waited patiently within the Maw for the soul that had been unlucky enough to be chosen as his opponent.

The Maw…

Blazing eyes opened languidly, taking in all the glory that the Citadel’s magic could provide. The Maw had been one of the first chambers that William had ordered up when he'd started his career in the Citadel and was a fallback that he often used for what he liked to think of as his playtime. Preserved in memory by the magic of the Ai’Bron monks, the Maw had been molded and groomed to greater and greater refinement with each use.

In some ways, he supposed, the Maw was a sort of allegorical reflection of himself; a massive volcano roaring furiously with active malice. He supposed that the metaphor could be applied to his own molten core easily enough, especially when the statue rising from the volcano’s core was taken into account. It was a massive thing of cracked, soot stained bronze, seemingly unfazed by the boiling magma in the caldera below. One side showed a grizzled man with arms outstretched as if in supplication. The firelight below cast wavering shadows over the man’s features, making them difficult to distinguish and giving the face an alternating look of fear, sadness, hope, and rage. The other side was a demonic thing with reaching, clawed hands. Baleful tears of flame dripped from the twin points of its eyes, running slowly down the statue’s core and into the volcanic upheaval below.

There wasn’t really any mistaking the symbolism there, William supposed.

But though the Maw and the statue within it were impressive, they weren’t the most important features of the battle chamber by any account. That laurel rested on the four massive slabs of granite which hung suspended in mid-air by massive links of red-hot chain. While the slabs themselves were too far apart to move between, each had several smaller chains attached to them which ran to the lip of the Maw, where a gathering of unpleasant, shadowy forms whooped and cavorted. Every now and then one of these figures would tug at the chains leading to the slabs, causing them to sway back and forth in uneven rhythms. Occasionally these motions would bring the slabs close enough to one another for the combatants to leap between. One wrong move, however, would mean a terrifyingly short fall to a molten death.

William’s grim visage split into a malicious grin and he found his hands unconsciously convulsing as if already at his opponent’s throat. It would be glorious.

Ashla woke up inside a dark room. She didn't was she was doing here, or where Fireleaf had gone. But it was very dark, she couldn't see a thing. She got and and tried to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, a large door opened, there she saw a man she had heard about, but never really encountered: William Arcus! As far as she could tell, he was ready for some type of combat too!

Wow... a Level eight guy vs. me? ... I'm toast.

But instead of acting scared, she forced a smirk onto her face, "Hey there... William Arcus is it? What is it you want with me? Not a fight I hope..."

A familiar tingle rippled across the chamber, dancing up William’s spine as it washed over him. It was nothing more than the slight ethereal shift which indicated that the battle chamber’s magic had summoned his opponent, but it was enough. Aroused at its touch, the revenant’s molten core flared to life, sending a wave of heat flowing all around him and he was forced to clamp down on it lest it summon his war form too quickly.

Eager as he was for this contest, William found himself somewhat stunned and a little disappointed when the chamber summoned his opponent only a dozen feet away from him. Every battle that he’d had in this chamber had begun with his opponent being summoned on one of the opposing slabs. It was entertaining, watching their reactions as they took in the sights of the Maw around them. Expressions had run the gamut from excitement to fear, and had light the fire in William’s blood. It had also allowed both combatants time to gain their footing and engage in some warm-up with the exertion of being forced to find a way to one another as they learned to move across the slabs. But, William supposed it was entirely possible that the chamber had seen fit to simply throw him and his opponent together, letting them sort out the mechanics of the arena for themselves. Or perhaps it had read his lust to get to grips with an enemy and had answered his unconscious desire. Regardless of the intent, his opponent had arrived and thus it was time for them to play the lovely game of death for which the Citadel was so renowned.

Unfortunately for William’s eagerness, the opponent who had been chosen for him was somewhat of a wet blanket thrown over his burning desires. Are they serious? William thought, his grin flowing into a disapproving frown, leaving him just as quickly as his excitement had. The dusky elfin girl before him looked like she had only reached bedding age the day before, and though she wore blades on her hips, her words belied how little she was prepared for what was to come. Especially as she seemed to knew who he was, but not why he was here.

“Run home girl,” he replied, turning from her. Beneath their feet the plate began to sway gently, as did the other three around the volcano. The arrival of the girl having triggered the creatures perched upon the Maw’s rim, and their ululating cries and undulating dances were moving the chamber to sluggish life. “If you wish to leave, the chamber will take you out and hopefully give me a worthier challenge.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to stifle the sudden headache which had somehow wormed its way into his brain.

"Worthier challenge??" Ashla was offened, Who said I wasn't a challenge?! I fended for myself without anyone's help for two years now! I survived bands of orcs, double-crossing magicians, and more! I am a worthy challenge! If this guy wants too, I'll show him!

Her hand had already been on the hilt of her steel sword, but her grip had been very loose. That grip had tightened now, "Who said I wasn't a challenge?" She asked boldly. Perhaps it was too boldly, but that was Mrs. Icebreacker: always pushing herself into unnecessary trouble!

Children, William thought wearily. They all have something to prove. But the more the words tumbled around in William’s mind, the more his choler rose. That was the way of youth, shouting defiance at the world to mask the fear they held of their own inadequacies. But this was the Citadel of Radasanth, a place where true warriors went to test their mettle. If this girl had come to the Citadel hoping to find a comforting lie to cover up the fact that she was nothing more than a mouse roaring at a lion, then William was the wrong person to have chosen as a mentor.

Having been sufficiently agitated, William’s molten core flared to furious life, igniting the revenant’s transformation into his war form. The air swirled around him as the superheated aura of his heat created its own convection, causing the beast hide cloak that he wore to stir into motion. She needs an example? his rage yelled in his mind. She needs to see just how inadequate she is?!
All along the crater’s rim, the shadowy figures frenzied tempo increased. Their primal howls extorted the coming violence with savage glee and furious life surged into the slabs as they redoubled their efforts on the chains.

“Alright then,” William said, turning back to face the girl. “If you think you’re a challenge for me.” The blazing coals of his burning gaze locked onto her and his cracked lips twisted into a sneer as he raised his arm. Shattered fragments of blackened bone burst through his flesh along its length, twisting together to form the carapace which covered his arms and legs.

“I usually prefer just to use these in my little games here,” he said, flexing his bladed talons. “But for challenging foes I prefer something a else.” Having said that, William reached back and plucked his warscythe from its perch, the matte haft cool despite the heat surrounding the revenant. Firelight glinted of the warscythe’s obsidian blade and its razor edge whistled as William spun the pole arm deftly.
And then, from out of nowhere, William slammed the blade down, embedding its head firmly into the granite slab with as much ease as another would put it into water. An orb of liquid fire flared to life in the palm of the revenant’s hand as he summoned a magma shot, a magma shot which he sent hurtling towards his opponent with a negligent flick of the wrist.

“Catch,” he said, the word punctuated by the boom of two granite slabs opposite theirs slamming into one another.

"Catch!"

the flames whirled wards Ashla! Ashla gasped, then dodged the flames coming that could have kiled her. She was pretty agile, she was able to dodge it easily. The flames hit that wall and caused a massive explosion! Ashla pulled out her weapons and took a stance. She was tempted to say "Gotta do better than that!" but she knew better: This guy did not have much patience, I gotta be careful! she thought, wondering what move she should make next.

William watched the magma shot whip past the girl, arcing off the granite slab and over the Maw’s gullet to impact against the volcano’s distant rim. It was flashy, but not terribly destructive on the thick rocky structure, and compared to the churning lake of liquid rock beneath them, it was insignificant. Still, the incident reminded him for a moment of Jensen’s knives and anything concerning Jensen was ultimately annoying to him. But while a bit of his destructive power had been used to summon the liquid fire, it had not been nearly enough to dull his war form’s qualities. Besides, it had been a quick way to test whether or not the girl was completely useless. Given the speed that appeared to be a trait she had inherited along with her elfin heritage, he wasn’t entirely surprised.

But a bit of speed was one thing and true combat experience was another, especially when William was involved. Her agility might give her the edge against a human, he had long ago had that moniker torn from him. The creation spirit bound within his soul flooded his body, hyper-conditioning him to a point that no normal mortal could hope to match. If a little bit of speed and the blades she held were the only defenses that she could muster, this fight wasn’t going to last much longer.

He waited three heartbeats before making his move. That was all it took for the swinging of the slab to shift so that it would be bringing him closer to his opponent as he bolted forward. The metallic stone blade of his warscythe screeched in protest and it jolted from its resting place within the granite to full, speed in a fraction of a second. Spurred on by the explosive power of William’s lunge, the blade left a groove gouged out of the granite in a straight line towards the girl.

Aided by the motion of the slab, it took only three leaping bounds for William to cross the gap between himself and his opponent. Three bounds that were taken so quickly, that it would have been difficult to follow if one weren’t paying close attention. But half a step from the girl, close enough for William to strike her with his longer weapon but not so close that her sword could do the same, the blade of the warscythe tore free from its stony bindings and whipped up in a tight arc aimed to bisect the dusky half-elf. But though the weapon’s razor edge and the inhuman strength behind it were a potent enough combination in their own right, William wasn’t content to leave it as such and activated the lesser enhancement of the Storm Herald’s scythe as he brought it up and the instant the blade left the ground it hummed a bright sickly green and arced with lightning.

In the center of the Maw, unheeded by the combatants, hidden gears began to turn on the smoldering bronze statue which dominated the arena, slowly churning the dualistic behemoth to life.

The large blade flew towards Ashla so quickly! She ducked, knowing her steel sword couldn't reach far enough to even brush him! Maybe I can't win this fight... I'l take the defensive and try to find a way out!

But then, another idea entered her head, it would require all the agility she had and a lot of speed! She knew it was worth a try though! She quickly jumped to where she could reach Arcus, putting her weapons away at the same time, then immediately run up to him and grabbed his forehead! She knew that at the most, she would be able to give him a splitting headache, which would probably give her enough time to scram! She used all the ice power she could muster without injuring herself, then let go, stepping back to her original place.

Like a panicked rat scampering with everything it had to escape a sinking ship, the girl had somehow managed to avoid William’s slash. Even the legendary acrobat Duffy Bracken had been forced to rely on his teleportation magic to avoid the strikes that William made while in his physically enhanced state, and running away was the only thing that idiot did will. He was so surprised by the act that he had somehow dropped his guard, allowing the girl to not only sheath her weapons, but step inside the blazing wall of heat surrounding him, unleash a burst of magic, and then retreat before he could react.

Fortunately, the potency of her magic wasn’t matched by the energy of her speed and her icy attack evaporated under the intensity of William’s molten core. Still, that made it twice that he had underestimated her capabilities in close quarters combat. A veteran of hundreds of battles in the Citadel, a dozen of which had been in this very chamber, William knew that there were always ways in which the magical chambers allowed one to even the odds. If he couldn’t catch her with the edge of his blade, he would have to devise another method to bring her low. Which shouldn’t be a problem, he thought to himself, especially since his warscythe still glowed brightly with the effects of its enchantment.

Maintaining the momentum from his approach, William dug his clawed feet into the granite slab and propelled himself across the remainder of the slab. He knew he needed to time this right for this to be effective against his opponent, but he had no worries about his own welfare, trusting in his own strength and speed to see him through.

Just before he came to the edge of the slab, hovering precariously over a hundred foot drop into what would be a quick, but painful death, even accounting for his incredible resistance to flame, William pivoted and threw his warscythe with all his might towards the massive red-hot chain supporting the nearest corner of the slab. The weapon was never designed to be used in such a manner, and flew like a one-winged walrus, it luckily didn’t have far to travel before the blade met chain. Empowered by the activation of its magic, the warscythe’s blade passed entirely through the chain without resistance, parting the tree-trunk sized links of steel as if they were air. Strike made, the enchantment on the blade winked out, fading into nothingness as the warscythe itself dropped from view into the churning abyss below.

And at that exact moment, just before the corner support gave out and angled the slab to dump its occupants into the hungry depths of the Maw, William curled his legs beneath him and leapt. Already traveling over the edge, the strength of his leap easily carried the revenant across the ten foot gap between platforms, which widened with every moment the shambling beings continued their wild pulling. Coming down with a roll to cushion the landing, William quickly bolted back to his feet and turned to see what his opponent would make of her predicament. She had only a fraction of a second to decide what to do.

But as desperate as her plight might have been, William’s wasn’t much better as over his head the statue’s inner clockworks pivoted one of the human side’s outstretched hands over the platform he had landed on.

I'm dead! I'm dead! I'm so- "Wait!" Just as Ashla was about to fall over, she saw that the statue was falling over into the abyss!

This is my only chance! She jumped over onto the statue, barely making it! She ran as fast as she could to the other side! I'm not going to make it! She ran as fast as her feet could carry her, and much to her own surprise, she was there. Without thinking first, she jumped off the statue and landed on the platform- almost... She caught the edges by her hands.

Ashla pulled herself up to the platform, sweaty, thirsty, tired. She realized that her wild jump had given her a couple cuts, thus it took her a few more seconds to get up there with this pain. For a second, she stayed there, catching her breathe; then she went to get up. When she looked up, she saw the revenant was looking down on her. His tall, armored figure towering down on her.

Yep, as I said before... I'm dead.

Impressive, William noted with a scowl. He hadn’t even thought it possible to use the two-faced statue as a platform to move between the swinging slabs, but the girl had once again proven to be far more resourceful than her slender frame initially betrayed. He supposed that he should be angry with her, but as he looked down on her scraped, panting frame he couldn’t help but to feel slightly appreciative. After all, if she hadn’t drawn his attention to the motions of the statue then he would have been completely unprepared for the massive clock-work pillar’s attack.

“See that,” he hissed, rolling his eyes to the hand which was coming to a rest over their platform as he approached the girl. The hand was larger than the slab itself, and the shadow it cast completely blocked out the sight of the thrashing creatures on the Maw’s rim. William’s charred lips curled into a vicious, snarling smile as he watched it shudder to a halt. “How much more can you dodge in this state?” he asked, kicking out idly at the girl. He wasn’t stupid, and didn’t really expect his razor claws to catch her at this point, but his swift attacks could at least keep her off balance.

“I’ve got to admit I underestimated you,” the revenant said grudgingly. He swept a second lazy kick at the girl, another feint intended only to keep the girl off balance rather than to split her open. “But it won’t matter in another moment, now will it? This massive hand is going to come down hard and smash both of us to nothing more than bone paste and a crimson smear on this slab.”

Another half-step and William danced around to cut off easy escape routes from the side of the slab. He dragged the claws of his feet as he did so, the force of his strength leaving a gouged groove in the stone behind him.

“Time to die then?” he asked pleasantly, obviously wasting time.

“Time to die then?” he asked pleasantly.

Ashla moaned as she looked up. Now, there was no way to escape it is over. she told herself

No! a voice screamed into her head, It is not! Fight!

But I can't! she closed her eyes.

Be strong, Ashla! You can make it! Please do!

Ashla sighed and opened her eyes, "No... It's not my time yet!" She forced herself to stand up, "Yes, we may both be in a state of death; but somehow, we could... I don't know..." she had no idea how to find a way to survive this giant hand that was going to fall onto their heads any moment now, even her ice skin at it's highest thickness would be crushed by this! She knew that she- they couldn't give up though, "Stop it from falling! But how? ... how?" the heat in this place caused her to collapse again, Great...

Don't give up! the voice called again. Ashla stood up, the nect thing she did surprised herself! She pointed her finger at her opponent!

Ashla knew that the Revenant wanted her to die, most likely, he didn't want to die himself! "If I die, you die too! You don't want to die? I suggest you help me think of a plan to get out of this mess!"

She heard the large clock work pillar make it's motions above her. The hand was coming closer to them! Think, Ashla! Think!

"Don't want to die?" William repeated, cocking an eye at the woman in surprise. A single, horrific, barking laugh tore itself from the revenant's throat, a reverberating sound of disdainful mockery rather than true humor. In a single motion, so swift that the eye could hardly follow it, William tore off his thick, beast hide cloak and flung it far over the edge of the slab. The heated currents rising fro the heart of the Maw caught the cloak and held it suspended in midair for the briefest of instants before it plummeted into the fiery maelstrom below like a raptor diving for prey. Even with its enhanced heat resistance the cloak only only survived the Maw's hungry embrace for a fraction of a second before it, like the warscythe, was dragged under and lost to the fiery abyss.

"I can think of half a dozen ways off this rock," William shrugged, his human form emerging as he sealed away the molten power flowing through his veins. He paced backwards several steps, away from the roaring heat and sulfurous stench that the Maw rolled over the edge of the slab. The chanting from the writhing figure's on the volcano's edge were muted now, though whether it was because they had stopped chanting or whether the chants were just being blocked by the descending shadow of the clockwork hand William couldn't say. Regardless, to him it signified the apex of the battle arena, a single moment of stillness frozen before the battle's finale was to be decided. What he had said was true of course, his enhanced abilities could easily offer him numerous escapes from the predicament he and his young opponent found themselves in. But that wasn't the point, the point was that William had tired of the cat-and-mouse game, losing the raging desire for destruction that had writhed in his veins like serpents of fire.

"I've died too many times to care girl," he called back to the young woman as he walked to the center of the platform and spread his arms, eerily mimicking the human side of the statue that was currently threatening to crush him. "Sometimes it's best to just let things run their natural course."

A ghostly whisper of a savage smile flickered across his features. Closing his eyes, William lifted his head and waited, a dozen paces from the girl at the ledge, for his inevitable death.

Ashla was confused, "Can't you only die once?" she looked up at the clockworks’ hand. It was coming closer down, I know I can only die once, and I don't want to! She was going to find a way out, whatever this guy said! She ran as close as she could to the bottom of the clockwork; carefully observing it to see how it worked, "Maybe..." she said to herself, "I could somehow stop the clock's rotation..." I've got to stop thinking out loud!

"Can't you ..." The words broke William from his reverie. " ... only die once?" It all suddenly made sense to William. The girl's confusion, the utter terror and desperation, and the mad scrabble to survive. True there were those who acted as if every Citadel battle was a matter of true life and death, but William found that Citadel combatants more often just let themselves go in a flurry of released repression and violence. It was the duty of the Ai'Bron monks to not only create the sprawling vistas of the battle chambers but to see to it that all the combatants' wounds were tended to. And it was certainly part of their job to make sure that the combatants understood that.

William was suddenly both very weary and very angry.

"Where exactly did you think you were?" He said, rounding on the panic-stricken woman. "Of course death isn't permanent in the Citadel. It's merely a blank stop until the monks get you all patched up and ready to go again."

As if to add emphasis he gestured broadly around the Maw. "Did you think any of this was really real? How in the Thayne's names would you have found yourself dumped in the middle of a volcano? Furthermore, how do you think you've kept from being fried by the heat that this thing is giving off?"

That was the final straw, and William found the last bit of enjoyment had dripped out of the encounter. He was done, done with foolish girls and errant monks. He was grim and unhappy, and that meant that someone was going to have to die. His entire frame swelled in an instant, reverting back to the charred heat of his war form. The powerful muscles straining within his thick hide coiled for a second before propelling him once more towards the girl, only this time there was no elegance or grace to his movements.

With only seconds to spare before the statue's hand destroyed them both, William charged his opponent for the final time. The general, the warrior, was gone and in it's place was nothing but a furious whirlwind of raw animalistic rage, fiery power, and razor sharp bone.

One way or another, this would be the end of it.

l made sense to Ashla now! When she died here, her death wouldn’t be permanent! She mentally face palmed, what a fool, I am! She was immediately startled when her opponent resumed his burning fire form and was now racing towards her. He did not look happy... at all.

Okay, Ashla asked herself, how would you rather die? Squashed by a giant clock, or torched by him? She had come up with her answer surprisingly fast: dying by the clock hand would give a whole new meaning to the old saying “your time has come”!

“No way!” she screamed aloud, right before he reached her, “I’d rather be squashed like a pea!” And she ran out of his way just has he had reached out to grab her into what she could tell would have been a painful death.

Even though she had dodged him, she still felt very light that very second. Either the heat was catching her even more, causing her to feel very dizzy, her opponent had caught her anyways and killed her, or the clock hand came down on them and killed her. Now, she didn’t even care, she just wanted this to end so she could escape this heat the Maw produced; then find Iris and rat to her all about this battle she was indeed losing.

The feeling William had was akin to getting to the bottom of the stairs a step too soon. The one where the primal animal hind-brain cues a disconnect between what just happened and what should have happened. It was a disorienting feeling, and it was one that should have spun William's head viciously. Were he in a better state of mind William would have supposed himself fortunate, but the red tide of rage which carried him blocked out both the disorientation and the relief. It also blocked out the rational part of him that would have pulled on the demonic warrior's reins after his failed attempt at savage violence. And so in the end it was William's own rage that grabbed him and hurled him off the edge of the slab and into the churning heart of the Maw with absolutely no hesitation.

Despite taking a headlong plunge into a glowing, deadly abyss, it wasn't more than a matter of minutes before the restorative magics of the Ai'Bron and William's own regeneration had his body completely recomposed, reclothed, and reequipped.

"I'm less than pleased with your performance in this," he growled, angrily snatching his warscythe from the ever patient Ai'Bron attendant manning the recovery room. "I made my preferences clear before entering the chamber and you failed to provide."

He locked eyes with the attendant, the burning glow lighting up the monk's face. "You've never failed like this before."

"Our humblest apologies, Lord Arcus," the monk begged, a slightly abashed look creeping over his face. He was an old hand at managing the Citadel, the masters unwilling to subject the newer monks to the revenant's wrath.

"See to it that it doesn't happen again," William snarled, his rage unappeased by the slight show of pittance. Fuming, he took up his restored cloak and stormed out of the Citadel, a blossoming wave of heat guiding his way out of the massive edifice.

Revenant/BlueGhostofSeaside

Plot ~ 18/9

Storytelling ~ 5/3 - There was very little in the way of storytelling here, no real plot to speak of, even for a battle. Revenant was more successful in his attempt to show a beginning, a middle, and an end. Blue, it helps to think of a goal for your character before writing. For example, perhaps a little insight into why your character was dumped here without knowing what the Citadel would have provided the necessary fuel to drive a story.

Setting ~ 7/3 - Rev, you did a very good job describing the Maw, and by keeping the atmosphere alive through observations in your narrative. Blue, you did make use of some of the settings, for example, the statue, but there was little else that would inform the reader of your environment. Your posts in general were pretty bare-boned, and one way to beef them up would have been by incorporating the setting into them.

Pacing ~ 6/3 - On the whole, the pacing was jerky. Clearly, this battle was not what either of your characters expected, and while this could have been a good story, the awkwardness of it showed instead in the writing.

Character ~ 19/10

Communication ~ 7/4 - There wasn't a lot of it, but what was there, was decent. The inner monologues seemed appropriate, though not necessarily groundbreaking. The dialogue and body language were along the same lines. Rev, you did a pretty good job here, especially in your narrative that sought to show the reader why your character felt the way he did through monologues and the like (which bleeds into persona, which I addressed below).

Action ~ 6/3 - There were some huge stumbles here. Rev, the biggest critique I have is for when you immediately revisit how your attack/action was thwarted with a sense of disbelief. I'm not saying don't do this, but if you could weave those thoughts into a different frame of reference, for example in planning future attacks so they don't stick out like a sore thumb, I think the overall sense of action would be much improved. Blue, you really didn't have a lot of action, and what you did have was not well explained. You never showed how you could have attacked William as he lunged at you, nor did you show how, despite the odds, your character managed to sprint on top of the statue. These types of feats warrant a good and well-described description.

Persona ~ 7/3 - Rev, you did a very good job here in portraying William exactly as he is, and in the interesting way he reacted to a obviously mismatched opponent. Blue, you touched on something that would have been very interesting to know about your character, that she had faced orcs, magicians and more, but you never elaborated on this, so I was left with very little to go on about who your character actually is. Some of your inner monologue revealed more - that she is a fighter not prone to giving up, and she'd rather be squashed like a pea than give the pleasure of killing her to her opponent. But in the end, your opportunities to show character were largely untapped.

Prose ~ 22/14

Mechanics ~ 7/5 - Rev, you could do to use more commas for clarity, especially when addressing someone directly, like at the beginning of this sentence. Also, a comma should be used if the person is addressed at the end of the sentence, as in 'Go home, girl.' I also noticed a few sentences that needed periods because they ran too long. Otherwise, a few missed typos. Blue, proof read your work. Your posts didn't show a general lack of ability with mechanics, but instead simple errors that were accidental. A quick read can alleviate this problem.

Clarity ~ 7/5 - There were a few instances between posts where I had to go back and read the previous post - and one of these was the statue. Did it fall or didn't it? Blue, do your best to describe your actions so the reader isn't left wondering what just happened.

Technique ~ 7/4 - Rev, your descriptions were lovely (as a pit of hell can be) and you did well bringing them to life for me. Blue, all the critique I've given you to this point will do wonders in raising your score in this category. As I would say in setting, put yourself where your character is, and let the sensations come to life through your words - metaphors. With a goal in mind for your character, you can more easily foreshadow events that are to come.

Wildcard: 5/5

Total ~ 64/38 Victory to Revenant.

Revenant receives 2750 EXP.

BlueGhostofSeaside receives 375 EXP.

EXP/GP added.