Round lasts for 2 weeks! Good Luck!
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Round lasts for 2 weeks! Good Luck!
Bloody light trickled over the plains like an inkwell overturned. Dawn had crept over their encampment without a whisper, but the small company still watched the smoldering remains of the night's bonfire. "It's an unsettling place," Eldric remarked in a dry voice. He graciously accepted the skin from his companion and doused his throat. "Been in my share 'o woods. These stink like something rotten."Quote:
This began long before any curse or forest.
In the ages before mankind stood upright and lorded over his fellow man, all creatures cowered under the wrath of greater powers. It is the very nature of sentience to seek sovereignty; man cannot exist beside his brother without a clear assertion of dominance. It is a fragile notion, control. Little more than a nudge will shatter it like glass.
So it was that the Forgotten Ones staked their claim over Althanas. With their potent magics and seductive wiles, they seeped like poison into the Eternal Tap. Tendrils of their influence stretched across the world, and each of the fork tongued ancients left their mark forever.
They stole something from the world that could never be taken back.
Only time will tell if what was lost will outweigh what is to come.
Hope
Unknown Author.
"This curse everyone keeps on talking about," the Fallieni swordsman remarked. "It's reputation is well deserved."
Between the two men, leaves danced on the wind and the last vestiges of flame shuddered out. Alkor snatched a deep red leaf out of the air and examined it. "My father used to preach at us about the dangers of magic, and what would happen if it were allowed to run rampant."
"Sounds like a wise fella," the Skav commented with a snort. He felt a harsh gaze on him, but the Salvic barbarian did not flinch.
"When so much fell power is amassed in one place, there are dire consequences," the youth continued, "the very plantlife becomes hungry. Insatiable hatred consumes the basest predators." The leaf wavered in the wind and he clenched a fist around it. Flecks of residue scattered on the breeze. "The whole forest isn't just alive. It's vicious."
"Y' can tell alla that just from a leaf?" Eldric seemed unconvinced.
Kiljak snorted. As the younger man rose slowly, he gestured toward the forest with an open hand. "You can feel the wind here," he told the elder mercenary, "it blows around the convergence. The air is thick with power, if you are keen on what you're looking for."
"Right," Thormund grumbled. They were both standing now, and Eldric eyed the Red Forest suspiciously. "I don't much care for magic," he added.
Alkor nodded slowly. "Then you're not going to enjoy this."
Eldric, matthewkuch, and Blodwen have been disqualified due to not making the 24 hour limit.
Gently the breeze whispered around them. Before them loomed the greatest tragedy of an age, and Alkor was first to snort indignantly. "Seems like a regular forest," he muttered, his face scrunched in careful consideration. "The wind never lies, though." There was a reverence in his voice that drew a strange look from Eldric, but the larger man deigned not to speak.
"Something foul lies over this place," the Skavian uttered softly, "sure as dawn 'n dusk." Their footsteps were swallowed beneath the rustle of the trees. Both men stopped to take in their surroundings while sunlight stole through the canopy and buffeted them with tainted light.
"Be on guard," Alkor warned. "Any manner of magic could be born of this."
He waited for Eldric to reply, but none came. The Fallieni turned slowly, his lips drawn in a tight frown. "Now," he grunted, "I should have expected that." The light had shifted, and the trees themselves swayed slowly. Behind him, footprints in every direction swallowed his own.
Alkor closed his eyes slowly. "Illusions," he stated. A sharp breath entered his lungs, but when he looked again, the scene remained stoic. "Powerful, ancient, deep rooted illusions. The very forest wants us to fail."
Above him, branches knit together and shades of red, orange, and yellow started to blot out the sky. Shadows slithered into the cracks where light flooded in, and chilling darkness took the Red Forest. Alkor rested a hand on his hip. "There will be no others."
The cryptic realization sent a cold blade down his spine. Kiljak was alone in the deadliest place on Althanas. "No one," he repeated, as though the words struck him. The cerulean of his eyes threatened to darken as he stared at the forest floor and struggled to maintain slow, steady breaths.
"Easy," he reminded himself, "you've been alone for years."
His fingers brushed over the gnarled bark of an ancient redwood, and the desert born boy heaved a sigh. It did not wither or writhe at his touch. The forest itself was all too real. Eldric had been swallowed whole. No sign of another human was evident.
His mind reeled at the prospect.
With a shrill hiss, his katana fell into hand and he steeled himself. "Fine, bitch," he said clearly, "do your worst. Just wait til I find you." He strode forward, deeper into hell. Time stood still within those trees; day and night were dictated not by sun and moon, but what light Lindequalmë itself allowed within.
Wind rustled through leaves like a hellish cackle, and Alkor glanced up warily. His gaze moved over every notch, twig, and stump he saw. After a moment, he continued on.
The Witch wouldn't be laughing much longer.
Every movement drew his eye. Alkor twisted at the sound of an acorn as it dropped to the ground and clattered uselessly. A ragged breath escaped him. "Forward," he chastised himself, "not back." Every time he turned, the forest seemed to shift around him. His fingers shivered at the breath of the Forest, the sweat on his back icy.
Kiljak tightened the grip on his blade. Chattering from deep within the wood caused his gaze to dart to and fro. He felt his heartbeat quicken. It drummed in his ears. With a slow breath, he bit into his lip. What would father tell me?
A shrill laugh tore his attention ahead, and the wood seemed to part. In a grove ahead, a woman with luscious scarlet lips smiled back at him. Alkor gaped. "Elissa?" The woman raised a hand slowly and beckoned him. Her blonde hair shimmered like starlight and her eyes were deep as midnight. He stretched a hand out toward her, but peeled it back quickly. "No," he shook his head, "why would you be here?"
"Brother," her voice crooned, and his eyes snapped back up toward her. It was her voice. "The Red Witch would speak with you." Alkor watched his sister turn and slowly walk. She glanced back, still a smile on his lips.
"No," he started. "Father warned us against magics like these." He glanced back, then forward again. The forest stretched out like a hallway ahead, Elissa smaller by the second. "We are not pawns of a sorceress. We were supposed to be more than this."
Her voice flickered around him, seductive, impossible. "More than this?" she scoffed. "Brother, there is nothing more than this." The scorn in her voice startled him; Elissa had been a gentle woman, and deeply loving.
Has time twisted you so, sister?
His heart wrenched tight in his chest. Unbidden, his steps pulled him ever closer to the siren that had stolen his sister's shape. It cannot be you, he railed against the possibility his sister had been corrupted by an ancient evil. Their father had prided himself in a legacy of guardians, a family that stood against the evils of the world.
His father would never have lied. But that did not stay Alkor from morbid curiosity, or the desire to have his sweet Elissa once more. If there is but a chance that you are my sister...
Her soft gaze turned back toward him. "All your questions and doubt will disappear soon, Alkor," she promised. Her words shook him.
To his left, Kiljak glanced down at a pond that rippled with every step he took. In the waters, he saw images of various people he had never seen. Elves, men, strange machines. Around them, the forest changed in turbulence. He stopped and stared blankly. A cold touch on his shoulders ripped him back to reality.
"Come, brother," Elissa whispered in his ear. Her voice was so close, his eyes rolled back. He craned his neck and took a breath, and her gentle hand cupped his chin. "Do not stare into the depths," she chided, "you would get lost forever in them." Her hand snaked down his arm and wrapped his hand in an affectionate hold. "She is not far, now."
"What does she want?" he asked, leery.
"Why," Elissa laughed brightly. Alkor watched her with wistful light in his eyes. "She wants you, brother."
They walked further into the corridor of trees until she pulled away and turned to face him. "Have you never questioned it, Alkor?" she asked, "why father feared to let us out into the world? Why he demanded us to learn magic and protect those wretched swords, as though they were more valuable than our own lives?"
The question stung, but Alkor matched her gaze warily. "You go too far," he growled, but he remained still. His blade glistened softly as pale light broke through the treetops and grazed its edge. "What does your Witch want with me? What power does she have over you?"
In answer, Elissa let out a melodic laugh and danced between two trees. Alkor watched her, but when she disappeared, he jolted. "Sister!" he hissed as he reached out for her. Faster than he could blink, she was gone.
Just like before.
"She has all of the power, brother," her voice echoed through the forest menacingly. His gaze twisted round to find the source, but she was everywhere. "She gives, and she takes away." The lilt to her voice became seductive again, and the youth raised his blade. "If you open yourself up to her, she will grant you whatever your heart desires."
"I want nothing the Witch can give," he spat. "Dust and ruin are what I came from. I want neither."
Silence came as reply, but the forest felt hot now. A thousand rumbling growls banished the quiet and Alkor took a breath. The world around him was enraged. "Last chance, Alkor," she offered in a voice that sounded hurt. "She would be sad to kill you."
"But you would not," he stated flatly.
A loud roar shook the ground. The swordsman turned on his heel to face a monstrous red haired bear, claws like knives fanned out hungrily. Elissa never replied, but this newcomer was all the answer he needed. "Fine," Kiljak spoke in a clear voice, his serene gaze fixed on the bipdeal brute. "When I kill him," he told the forest, his sister, and the Witch at once, "I'm coming for both of you next."
Another growl erupted from the tooth lined maw of his mortal foe, and the cursed bear charged.
Kiljak raised his blade and a scream ripped from his lips.
Crimson splattered the forest floor.
With a fierce, echoing groan, the behemoth slumped to the dirt. Deep gashes marked the pale swordsman's flesh. Shredded fabric hung loosely from his torso as he gasped for air, blood drooling out of monstrous wounds. Deep blue eyes fixated on the darkness, and Alkor staved off the urge to fall over.
"No." The word came like ice from his lips.
Threatening whispers echoed in his ears. His weight fell on the katana like a cane, fist wound around it tightly. "You won't kill me," he rasped. A slow stagger forward spilled more of his life on the path.
"Brother," Elissa crooned as she slipped from a copse of trees. He stared at her, but his body would not respond. "You can still save yourself." Her fingers slicked red as she moved her fingers over his chest. Alkor winced, but bit back his outcry. "Simply hear her out."
He stared into her eyes. She smiled sweetly. Alkor snarled. "Fuck off," he snapped.
Lithe fingers pressed against his open wounds, and the swordsman gasped. His face twisted into a mask of agony, but he never took his eyes off her. "He exiled you," she whispered, "but you cling to his frail doctrine and refuse to be saved. Your misplaced pride in a man so quick to disown you will kill you, do you understand that?"
Tears formed at the edges of his eyes as the pain lanced through his being. "She can save you, Alkor," she rasped in his ear. "She can give you justice."
"No," he croaked. "There is no justice. Not for any of us." His knees bucked and his body slumped against her. "If there was, you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be saying this to me."
"Oh, Alkor," she spoke sadly, "how far you have fallen."
She framed his face in both hands and lifted him close. Their lips brushed, and his lurid blue eyes rolled back as he surrendered himself. He got lost in the kiss he had lusted after for so long. The warmth in his heart dwarfed all his agony.
Their bodies pressed together and his viscera painted her waist. Alkor wrapped his arms around her. He sobbed into her lips. "Oh, Elissa," he whimpered, "it's so much."
"I know."
His eyes snapped open at the foreign voice; the lips he had kissed a moment before were deep red, curled in a wicked smirk. Flowing scarlet hair fell down her porcelain flesh, and her painted fingernails pressed him slowly backward. When his back pressed against a tree, he let out a low moan. "You are a resilient boy, aren't you, Kiljak?"
The sorceress' jade eyes seemed to pierce his soul. "Now that I have your undivided attention," she moved her hand to his cheek and ran a finger across her lips. Her gaze seemed to smile at him. "Let's talk."
Invisible hands sapped the will to move from his body as her single, petite hand pinned him down. Alkor struggled to speak, but her mere presence compelled him to silence. "I knew what you were, Alkor, the moment you entered my domain. There is no magic in this world I have not tasted," her honeyed words stung like acid against his flesh as he fought to break eye contact.
Podë pressed her fingers deeper into his open wound. The swordsman screamed. "This power in your blood," she said, "is ancient. Older than the Eternal Tap." Her tongue passed across her lips as she remembered his taste, the taste of dormant power. "But your father has denied you it."
"I was," he gasped, "unworthy."
She chuckled, and the sound echoed through his ears until it reverberated loudly in his mind. "Unworthy?" she questioned, "the Thayne would have said the same of me. The world rejected my power, the power of my brethren, and denounced us all by that same declaration. Who is more worthy than the one who takes hold of their destiny, Alkor?"
His eyes opened once more as his tormented smirk taunted the Red Witch. "You say that," he managed, "but you're faced with death. There are too many for you. You know that you cannot win." Her contemptuous frown came just before he wailed again. More viscous fluid spilled over her hand.
"You speak insolently for a dying man," she accused.
"I make a fitting mirror, Witch," he grunted. She sneered. "What is it you want from me, Forgotten One? To jeer my forlorn past just before we die together?" His breaths were labored now, and he wheezed as she blurred before him. "I'd rather die alone than next to you."
He spat at her feet.
Her jaw tightened. "You are a cruel child," she whispered, "but observant. Yes, my time is coming," she admitted. "Sooner than I predicted. Sooner than I felt fair."
"Funny how that happens." Kiljak stared at the dirt now as light rapidly bled from his eyes. Blood poured from his lips. Podë brushed her bloodied fingers across his wounds gently.
"I meant to leave a legacy more lasting than a broken curse," she spat sourly. Blood seeped back toward the massive cuts in his flesh. Skin slowly knit together. Alkor sucked in a breath as the pain ebbed, eyes wide with confusion. "It seemed that in the end, the denizens of Althanas proved more resilient than my bitterness."
Alkor shuddered as his wounds began to writhe and his heart pumped anew. "But I see echoes of my actions throughout time," she told him, "and I would ask a favor of you, Kiljak."
He blinked. "You saved me," he muttered in disbelief. "Why would you save me?"
His katana had long since clattered to the ground, useless. The Fallieni's hands trembled at his sides. "I have seen the things you will do, Alkor," she told him, "and they will be magnificent. All I want is to leave you with my blessing."
Their lips touched again, but this time, Alkor shook violently. Their bodies glowed dull red for half an instant before she ripped her hand from his stomach. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest. "I will die in this forest," she proclaimed almost sadly, and the trees wailed in the wind. "One of your lot will kill me."
With an almost dismissive wave, the sorceress faded to black. The forest shivered around him and trees twisted together. Alkor looked around in panic as the path sewed itself shut. Hellish laughter echoed around him for a moment before the world went dark.
"Avenge me, Kiljak."
Consciousness left him seconds later.
"Kiljak," the voice echoed in the confines of his mind. It smacked of concern, but also annoyance. "Oi, Kiljak!"
His eyes snapped open to the concerned face of Eldric and a strange woman he had never seen before. She bore the distinct features of a woodland creature, but the upper body and face of a young woman.
"Dammit, Alkor," the barbarian hissed, "you've been out for hours. We haven't made it more than ten feet into the forest." His eyes darted around, aware, terrified. The world felt larger and more vast, and his mind raced with forestal whispers as he jolted upright. The Skav bound his arms in a death grip. "Peace, lad," the mercenary warned, "yer acting loopy."
He took a breath and let it out. "I'm fine," he lied, "give some space. My head is spinning."
Both his companions backed away from him, albeit with some reluctance. "Bloodwen here came upon us seeking medicine for her sick da," Eldric told Alkor by way of introduction. "We tried to rouse you, but when it became clear we weren't gettin' anywhere, we stopped. Didn't want to risk harm, y'see."
"I appreciate it, both of you," he replied coarsely. He gazed across the line of trees ahead of them. His eyes stopped when the leaves seemed to shift. A dull ache formed in the back of his mind.
Come forward...
Alkor blinked. The disembodied voice of Podë invited him forward. With a backward glance at his companions, Kiljak stood slowly. "This way," he called to them. Eldric made to object, but Alkor held up a hand. "I'm fine. We've wasted enough time on my account."
"The rally point isn't too deep in," Alkor explained. "We can rest when we arrive."
The Forest tittered all around them, but only Kiljak heard the telling sounds. The magic that festered there seemed all but invisible to the others, though it grew louder as they went. "Feelin' any strange magic?" Eldric inquired. Alkor spared a half glare toward the Skavian, who shrugged. "I've got a bad feeling about this, is what I mean."
"Yes," Alkor confirmed slowly. "But you'll see soon enough."
"Joy," Eldric seethed through gritted teeth.
"Stay on guard," Alkor snapped. "Let's save the chat for when we get out of here."
"Oh," the part Satyr remarked as she noticed a patch of strange growth off the path. "That looks like-"
Eldric placed a hand on the woman's shoulder and she glanced back at him. "Can it wait?" he asked genuinely, "this forest could turn on us any time. We need to be quick."
It's already turned on them, hasn't it?
Kiljak slowly turned to watch them as Bloodwen shrugged off the mercenary's large hand. "There's no guarantee that we'll come across any more," she replied tersely, "I have to collect it now. My father's life depends on this, Eldric."
"Leave her," Alkor intoned gruffly, "we are almost there. She isn't part of this anyway."
They will all suffer.
Alkor blinked slowly; a shaky breath departed his lips. He saw blood drip from the treetops, bodies hung from vines like hangman's nooses. "Oh gods," he whispered. Her insane laugh echoed in his mind as Eldric walked ahead. Bloodwen was far behind them now, set in her task of herb collection. With any luck, the faun would decide to leave after she had what she'd come for.
Eldric would be far less lucky. As the barbarian withdrew the phial from his kitbag, Alkor clutched his head. "She knows," Alkor called over to the Skav. Thormund only nodded as he followed the Druidic instructions to the letter. The cork popped out easily enough, and the contents spilled into the dirt.
"We're almost done," Eldric promised. "Don't lose your cool now, Kiljak."
The land seemed to writhe and the leaves withered as their unnatural state was perturbed. Alkor heard the evil magic cry out in agony. "You have to stop," Alkor implored suddenly, "this has to stop."
"This is why we came," Eldric told him sharply as the last drops of gilded, effervescent fluid splashed on the grove. The man clenched his fist triumphantly. "We made it!"
"No," Alkor whispered. Eldric gasped aloud and shook violently as he looked down. The titanium that protruded from his chest cavity was slick with blood. His blood. "We started something that can't be taken back," Alkor told him. His eyes were dead, half open, set on the dirt. "Where will it end? Do you believe that this will stop with Lindequalmë?"
"You... fuckin'..." Eldric cursed as he fought the urge to give in. He gripped the blade tight and pulled it further through. Alkor grunted when he was yanked forward. The Skav took him by the throat. "You're under a spell," Eldric gasped as blood flooded his lung. "Snap... out... f... fuck..."
Alkor wrenched the weakened grip from his throat with a tremendous effort, and Eldric slumped to the ground. The barbarian sputtered and struggled for breath. "I'm not under any illusions," Alkor told his former ally. "To the contrary. My eyes are open."
The hatred in his acquaintance's eyes rivaled the fire in his blood. Alkor stepped over him and pried the katana free. "You started something bigger than you know, Thormund," he grunted. "And despite my efforts, I won't be able to stop it."
Eldric managed to sit up. "You're insane," he growled. "I'm gonna kill you, Kiljak."
Alkor laughed with a smile that sent frost through the veteran warrior. "I can't stop what you've started, but I will make all of you regret it." The katana sighed as he returned it home, and the swordsman turned his back to the wounded man. "Survive this if you can," he called back without a look. "I'd rather kill you face to face. You're a good man."
"You're trash," Eldric spat.
Alkor raised a hand to wave goodbye, perhaps forever.
It is finished.
As the swordsman staggered deeper into the forest, it wailed around him. The wind jostled trees that shivered as the strange tincture worked it's magic outward. He could feel the warring powers. Lindequalmë was a body, and its antibodies throughout the forest worked in futility against an unknown toxin. Fledgling trees still reliant on the dark power died outright.
Alkor watched the tragic beauty unfold. It was the twilight of an age, the grasp of a titanic power loosened by the ingenuity of humans. For all the good this might mean now, Podë had given him the truth of it. Mortal minds were cyclical.
They would band together now and tear down a common enemy. For a time, they might celebrate as brothers and friends. When the dust settled, the world would war again.
For millenia, my curse stood testament to the evils in men's hearts.
"That they have learned the power to combat it bespeaks darker things still," Alkor agreed, gaze locked on the horizon. His steps were purposed now, back to the encampment beyond Podë's domain. Outside the blossoming death that stretched out in his wake.
You have overcome the greatest of all trials, my beloved avenger. The frailty of mortal reasoning.
"And with your gift," he whispered coldly, "I now see the world drab and bleak."
You now see as I have seen, since long before any of this.
"I pity you, Witch," he stated. He could feel warmth stain his cheek, and he reached up to dab the corners of his eyes. He felt no sadness of his own, but the sensation was familiar. An eternity of tears swirled within him, older than memory. "Podë," he said her name so sadly that it wrenched his heart.
He stopped short of the camp in awe. He soared a backward glance toward the forest, where the beautiful redheaded woman smile sadly at him, leaned against a tree. Alkor matched her gaze evenly and offered a slow nod, which she returned. He blinked, and she was gone.
Sunset on the Day of Burning felt oddly cold on his skin. Alkor stared into the wild flames that flickered at the heart of their base camp, half able to hear their schemes and fully disinterested in their song of triumph. They had won the battle, as he could still hear the forest's lament on the breeze.Quote:
Epilogue.
"But they will lose the war," he muttered.
With his hands folded neatly in his lap, Alkor closed his eyes and let out a sight. When asked about Eldric's fate, Kiljak told them of a cursed bear, and how he had been unable to save his friend from being savagely mauled to death. How dead the man truly was, he could not say.
Eldric would not return to this camp for some time, if he returned at all. With a quick sip of ale, Alkor pulled his mind from the events of the day. He listened half-hearted to their plan, to press deeper into the forest and to strike a mighty wound to the Red Witch.
I will die. It cannot be stopped.
Alkor turned his gaze skyward, and the stars danced into existence across a blanket of deepest blue."I came to this place for the money," Alkor whispered dryly. "I want no part of this magical game of crowns. I care nothing for these elves or their forest."
Yet a part of it you are. From the moment you crossed into my domain, you were mine, Kiljak. See this through to the end.
While he did not speak, the embers spiraled up and he felt a smile on his thin lips. "My father used to say that to me," he reminisced, "he wanted me to be thorough, to see all my duties through."
If I am to be freed from this chain, I would have you be the breaker.
He stopped. "Me?" he managed to respond. "No. Out of the question."
With a start, he jolted upright. "Witch," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Witch."
Do not think I have not touched other players in this game, Kiljak. I am not a foolish woman. I offer this to you, my dear, for the gifts I cannot give myself. History will remember you as a hero. Your luck will change. All of this begins with my flame snuffed out.
"You know," he sighed, "some gifts are not worth accepting."
A single tear streaked his face.
It would be the first of many tears in the coming days.
Overall, solid quest. Sorry that you had to go it alone, though that didn't necessarily hurt you. Commentary will be limited in the actual judgment, but as always I'm happy to share my notes with you if you are concerned with your score.
The quest started out slowly. You didn't really hook the reader until Alkor's encounter with Pode. Before then, your character introductions, pacing and clarity was poor. Don't assume people read your profiles. When you bunnied dialouge in the beginning and used pronouns to describe party members, I had no idea to whom you were referring. Also, choose one proper name for your character or the other. You didn't see J.K. Rowling changing from using "Harry" to "Potter" in prose like you did with "Alkor" and "Kiljack." Storywise, it was clear Alkor was skeptical of the true identity of Elissa, so I was somewhat surprised you went on and on about your character's life story with an illusion.
Strengths were setting (the forest came alive in your posts, and I could feel the ominous magic coursing through your writing), dialouge (probably your best category, though I limited the score due to clarity) and mechanics (for the most part you were mechanically sound except for a few tense changes - from active to passive tenses).
Judgment
Group 1 (Alkor)
Story - 6
Setting - 6
Pacing - 5
Communication - 7
Action - 6
Persona - 6
Mechanics - 7
Technique - 6
Clarity - 5
Wildcard - 7 (For going it alone but still including other characters)
Total - 62/100
Alkor receives 907 EXP and 124 GP.
EXP & GP Added!