Round 3 Veteran: Taste of Treason Vs Zack Blaze

Matches begin at 12:01 Central Standard Time tonight. Will Cellar Door be burned down, or will the Blaze be unable to get through? Have Fun!

The neighborhood is crumbling around me. I have never seen such poverty. Buildings are marked with soot in the places that still stand and blankets cover holes in the rooftops in vain attempts to keep out the cool night air. In the distance a child cries between deep hacking coughs. I have heard similar choking fits at the hospital. The young one will not last the night. I try not to notice the tug at my heart. There is no sense in taking on others troubles. I can do nothing and I have enough problems of my own. The slums of Radasanth are rarely mentioned in stories, I can assure you as I’ve read more books than most. No one wants to look into the face of the starving, but when you are searching out a well hidden truth sometimes it takes you places you hoped you’d never go.


I can smell feces as I turn the corner onto a brightly lit street. The dim gray stone that lines the street matches my own troubled spirit. I see a tired face peek out from behind an entryway before the door slams shut with an echo that shatters the still night. The moon reflects off puddles from last evenings rain and I can see my own reflection moments before I bring my foot down upon it. Ripples distort my form and I am forced to stop for a moment. Isn’t this what this whole journey has been about? I’m not who I thought I was. All this time I believed myself to be a normal girl who was never good enough to please my normal parents. I could never live up to the children in the stories they wrote. I could never speak as well as their favorite poets. I could never be as beautiful as the imagery that sprung to life as they looked at words on parchment. I could never be the girl they wanted to me to be.


So instead I was cast aside. Forgotten. Ignored. I spent my days dreaming of being someone else, anyone else. I looked in the mirror and tried to picture another face, one worthy of the love I so desperately craved. One day I changed. I went from being the girl who people told stories of, to being the one who wrote those stories.


That day I decided no one would ever speak for me again. I tell my own truths.


Their blood is on my hands. I dreamed of being covered in it, bathing in the finality of the end of my oppression. It would cleanse away all my hurt.


It has only caused more.


If only I had known that their blood would be that of the Mystic line. If I had only taken the time to truly see them for what they were. Mystic scum looking down upon their ‘broken’ child. The Knights of the Dawn had taken me at the tender age of three. In less than a fortnight I was returned. Human.


These parts of the puzzle were solved. I know the facts as well as I know my own face. Now I need to know how. It is rumored that the Knights still exist, hidden well within the slums. Somewhere in this neighborhood lies the truth. I will have it. Or I will have the blood of those who do.

He leaned against the stone wall as he thought about the beating he had endured days before. His back still burned with the sting of the whip lashes provided by Talen Shadowalker. He had two scars in an x-shape across his back from that particular fight, a sign for respect for his foe and a reminder of his inability to destroy one of the strongest Ixian Knights. It was this inadequacy that provided fuel to the fire of Zack Blaze.

He could smell the filthy alleyways of the Radasanth slums, a place that held more underground fight clubs and shady dealings than any other place on Althanas. Zack had frequented this place in his youth, back when he was an aspiring street fighter that hoped to make a living through his fists. He could still remember the brutal fights he had to go through to earn even the smallest of reputations among the most famous of Radasanth criminals.

He pushed off of the wall and began to walk through the back alleys. His eyes shifted towards all the homeless that hid away during the daylight hours of Radasanth. Many of the hobos were huddled around small buckets of fire, as close to one another as possible in order to stay warm. It was distasteful to Zack how the dignitaries of Corone would not do anything one way or another about these people. The Empire always had a fear that exterminating them would lead to civil riots and protests, and the Ixian Knights takeover only reduced their number instead of eradicate the problem entirely.

“Excuse me mister,” he could hear a mouse-like voice from below him. He shifted his eyes down to find a small girl holding a rather dirty stuffed rabbit in her hand. Zack kneeled down with a smile as the girl began to speak once more. “Is there any way you could spare a couple of GP? I haven’t eaten in days…”

Almost as if to testify on behalf of her story, the child’s stomach growled. Zack smiled and placed a hand upon her mangy brunette hair. His spare hand reached towards his coin purse, unstrapping the item and placing it in the little one’s empty hand. The girl’s green eyes widened as she looked at the money and back to Zack. Without so much as a thank you, she ran off, probably scared that Zack would regret the decision and take the money back. He could hear the deep coughs of the girl in the darkness and smiled.

He may have been a general bastard, but Zack Blaze had a soft spot for children.

He continued through the alleyways until he came across another form, this one decidedly older than the child from earlier. As he approached, he started to notice the girl’s blue eyes and black hair. She was dressed way too well to just be a run-of-the-mill hobo. He raised an eyebrow at this stranger; curious as to why somebody like her would be down here at this time of the night. He cracked his knuckles as a precaution before he approached any further.

“It’s pretty late out here,” He said, his voice still hoarse from the screams he produced during Talen’s beating. He tone was much deeper than normal, and had more intimidation to it. He had not shaved in days, so small hints of stubble had started to form across his face. He seemed like somebody who would belong right here with the other street scum, his clothing and peach-like musk the only exceptions. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The stranger is worn, a bit dirty perhaps, though not so much that I believe him a victim of poverty. His features are tired, covered in lines I know all too well. His face has been left to its own devices and he walks as though he carries much too much on his shoulders. I freeze, naturally. I never have been one to think quickly when caught off guard. The nurses at the hospital always called my shyness mousy, but a mouse at least has the good sense to escape first and question later. I don’t.


I stand before the stranger mostly at his mercy. I can run and perhaps if I'm lucky my fear will bring thunder to life. I hold no hope that this will be enough. His build is slight and his choice of clothing is practical for escape situations. I can only hope they aren’t meant for situations where others are the ones escaping. I consider my options a bit too long perhaps. He surely already thinks me a fool. Upon this realization I force the words from my lips, tasting the regret as soon as it leaves my tongue. “I’m looking for someone. I have reason to believe he may live in the area.”

He has no reason to help me, in fact I could just as well assume he means me harm. There is something about those bright green eyes that give me just the tiniest bit of comfort though. I lay it all upon his feet, omitting only what I must. My parent’s deaths. The hospital. Steppenwolf. I suppose I’m leaving out a lot if I truly think of it, but the necessary information is there. I am in search of any living member of the Knights of the Dawn. “Can you help me?”

Zack listened as the girl, who called herself Cellar Door, spilled her whole life story. Apparently, she came to the seedy underbelly of Radasanth in order to find whatever was left of the Knights of the Dawn. He crossed his arms as she finished the story, the only sound between the two of them being the snaps and crackles of small fires. The way she had confessed everything to the street fighter spoke volumes about her ability to trust others.

“Alright,” Zack said with a sigh, “I think I can help you. The name’s Zack Blaze. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Door.” The youth was tempted to take the young girl’s hand and kiss it, but after the sob story she had just told him, he decided against it. He turned around as he walked down several dark alleyways, Cellar close behind him. He walked until the two of them got to a dead end street with two red brick walls on either side of them.

“This… is it?” Cellar asked in a hushed voice, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Course I do,” Zack retorted, his had formed into a fist as he hit the eastern wall three times. Upon the third hit, the brick the street fighter had targeted sunk into the wall, and the masonry opened to reveal a large man in a tight black t-shirt. His muscles appeared as though they were going to rip out of the fabric, and his blue eyes surveyed both Zack and Cellar for a moment.

“Girl don’t belong here Blaze,” the voice of the bouncer was deep and gravely, as if he had punched in the throat one too many times. Zack looked into the dark blue eyes of the guard and ignored the pink scars across his forehead. The guy had a good half a foot of height over the youth, though Zack speared unfazed by the difference in size.

“She’s with me,” Zack said as he rolled his shoulders, “And if you got a problem with it Diaz, we could have ourselves a little rematch.” The idea of another fight caused the big man to take a step back and open his arm to the steel blue door before them. Zack motioned for Cellar to follow him with his head as he went to the front of the door and allowed ‘Diaz to open it for them.

The sound of cheers boomed out from the door once it opened. The various shouts were indistinct, but it was almost as if people were busy placing bets and pulling for their choice of winner. Zack turned towards Cellar, his eyes devoid of all his usual playfulness as he looked to the girl. “This is where the Knights of Dawn, or what’s left of em, hang out now. It’s a pretty brutal place and you may not like it. Before we go in, I just have to ask… how do you feel about dog fighting?”

I have got to stop doing that. The thought runs through my mind as we walk and I lose myself a bit in thoughts of Steppenwolf and how quickly I had given him my trust. Here I am again, trusting a complete stranger with everything I care about. Yes, I am far from mousy. I always struggled with foreshadowing, apparently it carries over to my actual life. If I'd given my parents proper graves they would probably roll over in them. As it is I'm sure they are perfectly still, their bodies decomposing alongside their underappreciated work. This thought gives me a smile as Zack knocks on a wall.

It piques my interest. Some sort of strange enchantment is either keeping me from my past or insuring my new confidant has all the time in the world to kill me. My heart races a bit and I scold myself for being so simple. I need to learn to keep a secret.

I am only half listening as Zack argues with Diaz. I am too caught up with what the man could do to me in a single hit to truly comprehend the words. He steps aside though, with only a bit of menace in his eyes. Then Zack asked me about dogfighting.

"I..." I shut my mouth almost as soon as I open it. I feel my eyes squint a bit and my forehead creases the way it always does when I'm taken by surprise. "I like dogs."

As the phrase leaves my lips I realize how ignorant I must sound. Everyone likes dogs. Why can't I formulate a simple sentence! "I mean, I don't like to see anything hurt." It is a half-truth. I will cry over a hurt dove, but had no issues stabbing my own father seven times. I may be more screwed up than I thought.

We enter the...I suppose it would be called a club of sorts. Pipe tobacco fills the air and I nearly choke as it hits my lungs. I can vaguely make out a ring through a crowd of screaming men, but my eyes are drawn instead to the corner where a woman kneels before a rotund man with a drink in his hand. I flush red and turn my gaze, hoping that no one has seen me. I've never been in a place like this before. Surely there can be nothing to learn here. At least nothing that I want to learn.

He could tell just from the look in Cellar’s eyes that the girl was a mixture of embarrassed and shocked by everything the secret meeting place had. There was a foul stench made from the combination of sex, urine, and cigarettes that permeated the building. Zack stepped closer to the girl, his posture straightened in such a way that anyone there knew that the young lady was his companion. In such a place, it would be easy to get mistaken for another run-of-the-mill prostitute, and that was a fate the street fighter hoped to avoid for the raven haired female.

“Three things then,” Zack spoke in response to the girl’s adoration for dogs, “stay by me, don’t make eye contact with anyone, and whatever you do, do not look if you hear a bark.” He wrapped his arm around the girl, fingers clutched onto her shoulder to make sure she stayed at his side. He shuddered as the memories of this place began to flood his mind; the horrors that these so called righteous Knights of the Dawn subjected people to sent shivers down his spine.

The Knights of Dawn had degraded into lower-than-pond scum filth since their defeat at the hands of the Ixian Knights. Their numbers had dwindled to just a few dozen battle hardened soldiers, and at this point the knights were willing to do damn near anything for people to prove their loyalty to the cause. Of course, the Ixian Knights had such a pleasant grip upon Corone that most of the townsfolk had begun to lose their interest in being racist. Business had never been better for Corone, or worse for the KoD.

Zack guided Cellar to the bar, careful not to brush up against someone with each step he took. “These are some bad people here, Door. I don’t know what you want with them, but if you want information, Tielfried will be the guy you wanna talk to. He’s the bartender here and second-in-command of what the Knights of Dawn have become. He’s also the most senior member so anything you want to know, you talk to him about.”

They maneuvered through several tables and knocked over chairs to the bar. The wood before them had been eaten away by termites and mold, and there were clear signs of puke splattered all about the ten foot counter. Zack offered Cellar a stool, white stuffing mostly ripped out of its plastic trappings. “Tielfried,” He called out to a bald man with a white eye patch and gray butcher’s apron, “Can we get some service over here.”

There was a loud sigh, as if Zack had disturbed the barkeep from whatever he was doing. “What do you want –now- Blaze?”

"Actually, I'm the one who needs something." I force the words to come out evenly. I won't make a fool of myself again. "I need to find what remains of the Knights of the Dawn."

The barkeep lets out a deep belly laugh as he slaps his dishcloth against the wooden bar. "You brought me a comedian Blaze? Nobody just walks in and gets an audience with the Knights." The burly man gains control of himself as he notes the seriousness in my eyes. He stiffens as he focuses on Zack. "I don't have time for this tonight Blaze, take your little girlfriend and run along."

Anger courses through me as I realize I'm being ignored. I open my mouth to speak but a hand suddenly squeezes my thigh to quiet me. It takes a moment for me to register the physical contact, but I obey. To keep my calm I look around at the half-empty bottles filled with colorful liquids. I've never had a drink, but surely if there ever was a time for intoxication it was now. I consider asking for one before I remember my empty coin purse. A round of shouts fills the air as I hear a dog let out a vicious growl.

This place is giving me the creeps.

"I think we can work something out can't we Tielfried?" His voice is low and full of dread.

The barkeep perks at the offer. "If you want an audience you will have to earn it." Another chuckle reaches my ears as I watch him lick his fat, stubble covered upper lip. "Are you ready to fight?"

I pause. "I, I'm not much for fighting." Is it worth it though? A bit of pain to reach the end goal? I consider my options. "I'll do what I must though."

This time a few patrons join in on the jovial laughter. I'm not sure what I've said, but they are certainly picking fun. This man may know my whole story and yet he chooses to pretend to be nothing but a barman. I consider saying a few choice words but catch myself. "Did I say something humorous?"

Tielfried allows his smile to fade. "We don't let girls in on the dogfights. If you want to earn your own audience there are other ways." He gestures with his meaty finger toward the corner. I don't allow my eyes to follow. Instead I swallow hard, this was a waste of time.

I nearly jump as I hear Zack's voice. "I will fight."

He didn't know why he was doing it. Something about this girl just compelled Zack to volunteer himself to the same torture he had once endured so many years ago. Tielfried looked at Zack with a raised eyebrow, his barfly smell infiltrating and intruding on the street fighter's nostrils. It was obvious that the bartender knew Zack well enough that such an altrustic act was unbecoming of him, yet he still shrugged his shoulders and nodded.


"If you're so sure Blaze, then feel free. I just didn't think you had the stomach to endure it again. Your lil girl must be worth something if you're willing to hurt your body so much again. I'll arrange it."

ielfried left their presence, pushing through a blue door in order to arrange what was soon to come.

~~~~~

Cellar stood behind Zack, the latter now shirtless and with taped bandages. The young brawler bounced up and down as a sigh escaped from his lips. He had went through this trial once before, when he was like Cellar and sought answers he thought the Knights of the Dawn would have. He swallowed hard as he gave Cellar one last look before his opponent made his entrance.


The pit bull growled, held only by a chain that his master held. His black fur had been well groomed and shiny for all to see. His mouth nearly foamed at the lips. This was the initiation process for the Knights of the Dawn: the dogfight.

Zack sighed as he raised his fists, prepared to beat down on an innocent canine.

What is happening? What have I done? My mind races with the events that have led us here.

The dog looks vicious. His fur stands on end as he fights against his leash. His owner's lips curl into a snarl as he pulls against the chain.

Zack seems unfazed. His stance is cool, relaxed. The dog barks loudly and my whole body tenses. How can I stand here and watch this happen?

I look around me at the men who are cheering loudly for the dog to attack. There is laughter in their eyes as they wait for the battle of man and beast. I close my eyes, desperate to be anywhere but here.

The crowd roars. I open my eyes. There are waving hands. People are jumping up and down. Barking fills the air. The dog is set free.

He could almost smell the dogs breath as it released a series of barks. The beast was held back with a chain wrapped around the hand of its master. Zack saw the image before him, and images of the street fighter's past began to flash before his eyes. The crowd cheered on with each jump the dog made towards its new opponent.

Back when Zack was younger, he went to the Knights of Dawn with the pretense of climbing the ranks to become their leader. Back then, they held the same trial as they did now, and the match ended when Zack slayed the canine, its body bloody and motionless upon the ground. He felt incredibly guilty about killing such a creature when the beast had apparently been trained its whole life just to kill. It was not until after the fight that he had been informed that the winner of the match would go on to become an official member of the KoD.

He was jarred back by a sudden uproar in the audience. the chain given a little slack and the dogs body just a bit closer to its prey. Zack's looked to the creature, right into its beady black eyes, and charged his fists. Electricity sizzled out of the boys hands as the dog let out one final roar. He brought a single up, waving for the master of the beast to release its familiar upon him. The owner obeyed, his hand free of the metal chain as the dog launched himself as Zack.

It was not an easy fight then, and it would not be now...

((This is meant to be left on a cliffhanger. It is complete!))

Not much to say about this battle except that it seemed (and probably was) somewhat rushed. Moreover, the cliffhanger wasn't exciting. It was like the ending of a 2 part episode of the Real Housewives. No one watched the second half.

Limited commentary is below. ZB is Zack Blaze and TOT is Taste of Treason

Taste of Treason | Zack Blaze

Story - 4 | 4
Setting - 3 | 4 (ZB: Your description grounded the thread and gave me a better look at Radasanth's seedy underworld than TOT)
Pacing - 5 | 5
Communication - 4 | 4
Action - 4 | 4
Persona - 5 | 4 (ZB: Zack would have plenty of reasons to assist Cellar, particularly mutual hatred for the Orlouges and the Ixian Knights. However, you seemed to portray him more as simply a nice guy, which was complete out of character. I suspect you have some resolution planned, but it was not apparent prior to the cliffhanger)
Mechanics - 4 | 4
Technique - 5 | 4 (TOT: Risks often result in failure, but in your case I found your present tense to be surprisingly refreshing. I also respect the difficulty you faced in using it. I noticed two slips. One was in the first post where you substituted 2nd person (ala the style of this judgment) for first person. Two was that you sometimes used past tense in conjunctions. Anything "'d" is past tense, avoid it)
Clarity - 5 | 5
Wildcard - 5 | 5

Total - 44 | 43

Taste of Treason advances to the Veteran semi-finals!
Zack Blaze fights on in round 3 of the Redemption Bracket!

Taste of Treason earns 1662 EXP and 44 GP!
Zack Blaze earns 525 EXP and 43 GP!