Round 1 Group 6

Round lasts for 2 weeks! Good Luck!

I always seem to end up in these situations. I won’t add through no fault of my own, as that would be a cop out. Fate is a scapegoat for those who choose to ignore their own poor judgment. Me? I am poor judgement.

I heard the whispers as I delivered a package to a seedy inn on the edge of Radasanth. The plans to cleanse the Red Forest were set, and any warrior worth their salt would be there. A few names were thrown around and while at first I took little notice, two names stopped me in my tracks.

Zack Blaze. True, the drunken merchants described a much different man than the one I knew, but there was no doubt they meant my former friend. I wondered silently what he intended to accomplish.

Then the conversation turned a bit dirty as the focus became the assets of Alyssa Snow. I did my best to listen without being noticed. Apparently Alyssa was one of many from the mysterious new group that sought to aid in the cleansing of their home.

A small piece of me fumed at the leader of the Tarot, I had seen Leona less than a day ago and nothing of this adventure had been mentioned. If I were to be a part of her band of warriors, however small my role, shouldn’t I be kept abreast of these things? That small piece grew with each passing thought. I may not be strong, but I am certainly capable of aiding the cause. I may not be large, but I can carry my own weight. I am smart. Why else does the one who sees the future seek me out for guidance? I will not be ignored while the others go gallivanting off to glory with my ideals as their battle cry!

I believe it took twelve steps from the door before my mind was made up. I would travel to the Red Forest. I would aid in whatever way I could. I would be standing there when the Thayne Pode fell, and I would prove to Leona that I wasn’t a child she could send on errands and ask silly questions.

The resolve stood strong as I packed my few belongings in a knapsack and began the journey. It held the test of time as I made the journey, from boat to inn to horseback. It withstood the two days on foot that finally led me to the edge of the forest. Then, in a moment, it faded. I stared up at the treeline as it jousled softly in the wind, and only one thought filled my mind.

What the hell am I doing?

"They're after me, you know."

"They've always been after you, haven't they?"

"This time is different. I can feel it across the aether, even as I linger in the space between life and death. A storm is brewing, my little monster. The High Bard Council has made their decision, and have put plans into motion that would loosen my grip on this world."

"You mean Lindequalmë."

"Yes. They mean to cleanse the forest of its affliction and restore to it the beauty that Raiaera does not deserve to behold. They're gathering their forces, their warriors, their spellsingers and druids and scholars, and they plan on striking soon."

"So let them. It's been eons since the War, and every single one of their efforts since has failed. It will be eons more before they are able to penetrate the deepest recesses of the forest to reach the heart of your power there."

"I feel that this time is different. They've reached out for help from around the known world. They've never done that before. This is an act of desperation on the Council's part, and I fear that this time they will have the power necessary to succeed."

"..."

"I have been having visions, my friend. They tell me that my time is nearly up, and that soon warriors with faces that I cannot make out will cause my downfall. With every vision, a new scenario plays out. Every single one of them end with my death."

"But you can't die. You've achieved godhood, haven't you? Your magic is too strong to simply run a sword through you and be done with it..."

"Once upon a time, that may have been true. But my power has waned as the years have gone by... I am not able to repulse their advances into Lindequalmë for much longer. That is why I have summoned you to the world between life and death. I have another gift and another task for you."

"You have?"

"My dear, while my power is slowly withering, yours is growing by the day. Your drive, your hatred, your almost serene wrath... With each setting sun, the Curse I have given you makes you more and more powerful. But I fear that may not be enough to continue my work when I am gone. I shall be granting you more of my power, more of my knowledge."

"More? Not all? After all that I've done for you in this short time? You know what I'm capable of, why spare--"

"I can sense your jealousy, but it is a mere tactical choice. While you may consider yourself worthy to carry on my work by yourself, there are others who also share that honor. I will be visiting them as well; and as a group but separate, you shall continue my dark legacy. That way, should one of you fall, the others can carry on with their grand work. Do you understand?"

"...I do, yes. And this task you mentioned? What would you have me do?"

"Sign up for their efforts within Lindequalmë. Join their ranks and find out their plans. Learn the ways of your new enemy--memorize their faces, their names, their ways of thinking so you may take your revenge in the future. Learn whatever you can, and then bide your time. Wait for the perfect moment to strike back."

"Understood. But... Why don't I just stop them now?"

"Because I have foreseen my ultimate death. Don't waste your own life trying to change my destiny."

"Alright, fair enough. I'll just... keep it low key, then."

The Forgotten One Podë smiled as she placed her hands on my shoulders once more, fingers crackling with the dark energy that warped the most beautiful thing in the world. "I knew that my trust in you was well-placed, my Agent."

-~-~-~-~-

I woke from my meditation to the busy sounds of foreign adventurers and native Raiaerans in the camp preparing for the task at hand--cleansing Lindequalmë, The Red Forest, of the Curse that held it fast within its spidery grasp. The Red Witch herself had tasked me with a glorified reconnaissance mission; watch the others and take notes. She reassured me that there will be plenty of time to avenge her death in the future.

...Still not quite sure how I felt about that. It had only been a couple of months since I became the Forgotten One's Agent. I thought I was the only one; but apparently there are others who walk a dark enough path to take up her cause as well. These past few nights, I've dreamed about hunting them down and taking the gifts that they've been granted by her... But she was right. The more we numbered, the more we would be able to carry on her dark crusade.

I'm getting ahead of myself here. You'll have to excuse me--my body and mind have been adjusting to... to whatever it was that she gifted me with.

It's been a bit of a weird sort of adjustment period. Once or twice I've found myself irrationally angry over the past couple days, and to my surprise I found my hands suddenly engulfed with a flame as black as the midnight sky, which quickly snuffed itself out. Had I suddenly become attuned to magic? I've always found spellcasting very difficult to wrap my mind around. It just wasn't something we practiced much as kids. But I was certain that it had to do with the boon that the sorceress gave me after our final talk together. How else would her powers manifest themselves in my body? Only time will tell, I guess.

...Time. Podë was running out of it, but assured me that I had nothing but. I--we, sorry--would have all the time in the world to avenge her imminent and ultimate death.

That was something I would have to remind myself constantly of while I'm here. She had given me strict orders to just simply participate in her downfall.

Something else that I'm not sure how I feel of. I mean, she did give me a new purpose in life, after all. It really makes my heart ache to have that taken from me so soon.

No, not taken. The purpose is still there; just not the guidance. ...Thinking about it, that may actually be worse.

Either way, I will carry on her cause, as she wishes.

Boy, will I fucking ever.

There was one in the group who was simply there.

He'd been working with the adventure team, in Raiaeras' Red Forest job. He had no ties to the High Elves, he was simply an Elf. It was some sort of a nationalistic sense of pride that kept him bound to the foolish adventurers venturing out into the red forest. Elthas knew the score, his contractor had hired him out SPECIFICALLY as a member of The Red Six. He was to show no ties to The Trading Company and work of his own accord, despite being it's leader.

The afternoon sun shown overhead in the camp. Each of the different pieces of the grand puzzle were going about their business in the camp portion by portion. Elthas however, had a different job. His contractor had been very specific that he had to keep an eye on the movements and activities of one of the members of the adventure party. The one called Madison Freebird. In his earlier youth, a lifetime ago, Elthas had some involvement with Madison during a party gone completely awry. It signaled his initial involvements with The Red Six. Elthas sat by himself despite the fact that he was a Prince at that point. Though he had taken over the township his particular tribe had come from, it was irrelevant because the very same town had lost any of it's former influence. He was a prince without much power, and he wanted to keep it that way. Only Philomel and Mister Draak knew of his elevation to Princehood after the defeat of the Master Elf named Xu Bellaparte.

Elthas was thinking about that event, what he had accomplished.

He sat in a quiet corner of the camp, smoking the cannibus herb from his smoking pipe.

The smoke was wispy tendrils that smelled the distinct scent of the herb he liked so much. It helped him relax because he knew what was the score. His contractor had told him so even though the majority of the Adventure Party ultimately had NO idea what was about to happen. Cleanse the Red Forest? Yeah right. We are here to kill Pode. Elthas kept careful tabs on the movements of Madison Freebird, but did so in a non-conspicuous sort of way. A stare here, a glance there. Mental notes other times. He was studying her habits, learning her way of doing things. But the rest would come together in due time. His contractor had told him NOT to engage Madison until a threat was revealed. We're here to kill one of The Forgotten Ones. The thoughts sent a chill up and down his spine. He was not a fool, he was very frightened of the prospect and very real fact that he could die at any point in the suicide mission. He took a moment to observe the workers around him. They were NOT company workers but he still felt sorry for them. You're being used by your Nations. Heroes. Adventure teams, it's all bullshit if you ask me. Elthas had grown grim since he'd defeated Xu Bellaparte.

That whole event was the reason he was placed in his current mission.

Elthas wore a comfortably warm trench coat, that was well embroidered. He liked to dress to impress, that was part of who he was. His suit was a three piece suit, double breasted, that was cut in Radasanth tradition. He hated wearing ties, so instead wore a fancy amulet that was just basic jewelry. At either of his sides were his delyn daggers. They sat a quiet reminder of the power at Elthas' command. He wasn't one of the world destroyers by far, but the Forest Elf could hold his own. His eyes were sharp and scanned the base camp carefully as he looked at what everybody was doing. There was a nervous tension in the air. It was always the case before any sort of conflict began. They think they are here to reverse the curse...poor fucks been lied to. He took a deep pull of his smoking pipe and exhaled it his through his nostrils. That was when one of the female adventurers walked over towards him.

"My lord, may I have a seat next to you?" She asked politely.

Elthas observed her carefully, she appeared to be in her late forties and a seasoned veteran of these sorts of ordeals. "As you wish." Elthas responded.

She sat down next to Elthas, he admitted to himself it was nice to have some companionship at the hour before the storm fell.

Without ever knowing why, and perhaps impulsively, he began to sing. He sang in the native Ruildian tongue which was unique to the Forest Elves of Ruild. "<From the mountains...comes the north men...guided by the Valkyries of olde, ye battle maidens, guide my blade today. Guide our hearts to victory...>" Elthas was young in the ways of The Bard. But as he sang he noticed people looking his way. The female Adenturer leaned in close to Elthas.

"It is a lovely battle hymn you sing, Ruildian." She said calmly.

And the gathered began to prepare for the suicide mission at hand.

Dussek was a man of many offices, both titular and physical, and gave them all equally small doses of visitation and respect. On this particular day, we met in a vacant mill that skirted Radasanth’s city limits so as not to offend the sensible city folk with noise and stale smells. The managerial office was in desperate need of a good cleaning. Though glaringly bright outside, sunlight struggled passed the sullied panes of sooty glass. Even without walls - opened and exposed to the factory floor below - a few oil lamps had to be placed upon any surface within reach. The factory had been emptied since the night before when Dussek offered the workforce an entire day off to celebrate some minor deity’s feast; it was a perfect move, as always for him. His employees continued their sycophantic devotion to him and we had a perfect spot to conduct our perfidy in peace.

Behind the central desk covered in scattered paperwork and coffee stains, Dussek sat with an utter stillness. Even though his chair had weathered a score of fat-assed middlemen with neither dignity nor grace, his statuesque grandeur made it seem a seat of some great power. As he carefully flicked through the pages of a folder, he nibbled at a few small bites of a single finger sandwich that his servant held on a platter nearby. I waited with the same agitated smile I always mustered when summoned by him, eager to get this latest target info and be done with his silly power games.

“Are you sure you don’t want Bahl’ir to get you something?” His words rang as hollow as his sunken cheeks. Accepting any favor him, no matter how small, pulled at a thousand strings he’d planned before the offer.

I looked to his mute servant with a grin; the man stared daggers back at me from behind his cowl and tattooed face. Bahl’ir had been something of a poet back in Fallien; his spoken word epics were the talk of many a traveler who’d had the luck to see him live. But my younger self had never been too good at keeping his temper, and Bahl’ir's tongue was sharp. Almost as sharp as my knife.

“No thank you, I fear my tastes aren’t quite up to it this morning.” Oh how I loved that hate that emanated from the servant’s eyes. He couldn’t touch me, not unless Dussek was feeling especially punitive for my latest discretion, so all he did was fume with impotent anger. He knew I could sense every sweet, petty wave that washed over him; the slave’s warning was all the sustenance I needed.

“Enough,” my uncle said with a stern, sour note. He was always eager to ruin what little fun I could find, or perhaps he was the only one allowed to play head games at these meetings. “I have a new task for you, one that I’m certain you’ll excel at.”

“Who’s the target, dear nuncle?” He hated that word and the tone of familiarity that dripped with it, though it was hard to notice anything on that dour face of his, besides the occasional twitch of annoyance.

“This little mission is far more important than any single target, and has far-reaching effects that would be most beneficial to my enterprises.” He slid the folder across the desk to me. I could see light wear on the sides that faded the manila, no doubt he’d given the matter some thought. Its contents contained an open letter from Raiaera’s High Bard Council, information I had read in the Radasanth Reader only days ago. Behind that were several dossiers on what seemed to be team members I was assigned to. I could feel my canine bite into my upper lip as a glared at my dear, sweet uncle.

“You know how I hate these little expeditions. Why not send any of the hundred sword-armed lackeys you employ? Their avarice more than makes up for their will to live, I’m sure they’d be happy to die in the company of one of these fine cohorts that have been chosen for this gallant crusade.” Disappointment, shame, or loathing; my uncle had always been one of the few people I had a hard time reading. But his mood began to lighten, and to my shock, I could see the beginnings to a smile around the wrinkles on his lips.

“If you’d kept silent and continued to read, you’d notice this mission is more a gift from me than a job.” Hesitantly, my eyes scoured through page after page, until a came across two pieces of information that not only piqued my interest, but damned near sent my into the throngs of ecstasy.

Madison Freebird, the stuff of legend made flesh, would be put amongst the group. We’d met very recently under less than optimal circumstances, but I continued to delve into any information I could find on the plant-hybrid. She was something of an anomaly for me, a curiosity; an extension of the power of the will to bend the world at a whim when necessity dictated it. Despite her ill-fated gender, I found something of a kindred in the idea of her, perhaps even an equal – equals are made to destroy and stand on high atop the peak of their rubble.

But that only whetted my appetite, because the next page detailed the most efficient means to cleanse the corrupt Red Forest. There were a few theories and quotes my uncle had collected from his soothsayers and scientifically minded, but the gist of it all sent my heart into a furious rhythm. Behind the technical aspects, the history, the lore, was the simple statement of what must be done. ”To kill a god.”

I tried my best to hide my excitement, but I was sure Dussek or Bahl’ir heard a sudden thump from beneath the desk. “Are my travel arrangements all made up?” There was a breathless whisper where I had hoped stout words stood.

“You’ll leave tonight.” Dussek was pleased, or at least seemed slightly more chipper than usual. “A Raiaeran by the name of Maelynd shall accompany you on the boat, and guide you to your meeting. Pleasant hunting.”

The camp was far more organized than I would have expected. It seemed the Council were leaving nothing to chance. Several tables were set up for purchasing last minute wares and several more provided food and drinks for those participating. A large sign stood to the left with directions toward a long line of men and women who no doubt hoped to prove themselves today. I took my place behind a large man, grateful that perhaps I would be mostly hidden from view as I tried not to panic. I dug the toe of my gray boot into the grass slowly and smiled as I left behind a circle of broken blades. Was it sadistic to enjoy leaving a footprint upon living things weaker than yourself?

I smiled. Perhaps the meaning of life was in finding just how much you could effect the world around you. Did it really matter if those effects were good or bad? The brown mud-stained boots in front of me shuffled forward out of view. The line was moving. I pulled my attention from my mark with a strange sadness. For the first time I noticed the beauty of the forest in front of me. How had I missed it before?

I could hear birds chirping even from thirty paces outside that lush treeline. The wildflowers that grew beneath the perfect leaves were bright yellow and purple and smelled more wonderful than anything I’ve ever known. Why would we send all these men into such a wondrous place? Each step from the dirty man standing before me would only sully its existence. Why would Leona support such a mission?
My rage with the leader of the Tarot Hierarchy had mostly faded, but now it hit anew. Who was Leona to decide the fate of this place? The line moved forward again as I resolved to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

I stared around me at the different adventurers, eyeing each one suspiciously. What could they have to gain by destroying the forest and its protector? Would the damage caused be irreversible? I silently wished for each and every one of them to be swallowed whole by the larger being inside the trees.

I stared absentmindedly ahead until a small voice called out to me. “Ma’am?”

The elf looked far too young to be involved in such a disgusting facade. True, elves never appeared to be old enough for anything, but she couldn’t have been more than twenty. She squeaked out a few questions about my abilities and strengths. That didn’t take long, I have none. She questioned my family line which only lead to some quick, boring lies and then she asked something I hadn’t been expecting.

“What do you hope to gain by aiding this noble cause?”

Noble my ass. I considered my words. It wasn’t time yet. “I hope we can finally find closure.” I pressed my lips into a smile.

This seemed to satisfy her. She carefully searched through a stack of parchment sheets in front of her. She slowly placed each on upon the table until only two were still in her grip. Her eyes jumped from one to the other and back again as she mumbled something too low for me to make out. Finally, she sketched my name on one of the sheets and smiled. Her bright blue eyes lit up as she pointed toward a group of people. “That will be your team right there! We’ve tried to arrange a good mix in each group so that whatever challenges you face there will be someone with the knowledge to handle it. Thanks so much for your aid, and good luck out there!”

I turned away with all the strength I had. “Good luck? Challenges? Was this a game?” I puzzled the complete lack of respect as I took slow, deliberate steps toward my new ‘group.’

Muddy boots was there. Of course. Also, a strange woman who from the looks of things might as well have grown in the forest herself. Three other men rounded out the team. One seemed to be staring at the forest expectantly while another seemed far more interested in my arrival.

“Finally, now we can get started.”

I hated him. I can’t even explain where the rage came from, but something inside me screamed that he could not be trusted. I stared blankly at his average features for something of note, but found nothing. It wasn’t until the final man cleared his throat that I pulled my attention away. His eyes had not left the strange woman, but his intent was obvious.

“Right, so let’s get going.” Apparently without my stare the man had found his voice again. “We have a forest to cleanse.”

Far more than the forest shall be cleansed today.

One of my squad members seemed very eager to die.

I turned to the man, who appeared to be a weathered adventurer in his late forties decked out in some well-worn leather armor with a fur-collared jacked over it. "If you got a death wish, then by all means walk right in and go cleanse the forest. The rest of us are going to come up with a plan of attack here that'll see us all walk out in one piece when it's all over," I said with a sneer. The man's lips pursed underneath his salt and pepper beard as he tilted his head up just a bit, as if he was trying to intimidate me or something.

A high elf that had been running around the base camp with a stack of folders stopped by my little group and handed me one. Thanking him, I opened it to see what he had given me. Inside the folder were several sheets of paper, a few field maps drawn up by the scouts that the High Bard Council sent in ahead of time, some reports from mercenary teams who had gone on missions such as this one before us, a generic letter from a Councilman commending us for our bravery and selflessness for helping the Raiaerans on this most important quest of theirs blah blah blah. At least that last one could make for some decent kindling for a campfire.

Tucking the folder under my left arm, I started handing out the ink-drawn maps to my teammates. The first one went to the older guy in the leather duds. The next one went to another adventurer, a younger gentleman in similar gear who had a shaggy mop of blond hair and three scars across his left cheek, presumably from a beast attack.

I turned to the young girl next to me, a map held out for her to take as well, but she was looking off in the distance at the Red Forest. She was a short, frail little thing, giving off an air of a bratty teenager who is here just to prove her snobby, influential parents that she's tough enough to hack it in the real world. She won't last long out here.

"Hey," I called out to her. One of the pages inside the folder contained the entire group's names. I tried using hers. "Hey, Cellar." Still no response.

I stuck my briar-knit fingers right next to her ear and gave them a quick snap that cracked like thunder through the camp, drawing the attention of dozens of people milling around. The young girl slowly turned towards me, a sparkle in her sapphire eyes and a bitter smile on her pretty face. "Yes?"

"Do pay attention, dear," I replied curtly as I shoved a map into her hands. Words about not wanting to be both a squad leader and a babysitter were on the tip of my tongue, but I thought better of myself. I would have to keep an eye on this one; she seemed completely out of her element and definitely not suited for the dangerous mission that the Council organized.

Turning to the next person in the group, I hesitated briefly before handing him a map of his own. His name was Sulla, and we met under the most unfortunate circumstances several weeks ago while I was out shopping. After that little event, I recognized him for the monster that he is and tried my hardest to dig up what I could about him (for he could be useful within the ranks of the Crimson Hand as an assassin). However, not even my oldest sources from back when I was a killer for my family could turn up anything substantial on him.

For all I could discover, he barely existed. He was an enigma. An unknown. And, being a member of my team, with what I've seen him do, and with that bastard smile of his that was always plastered on his face, it worried me.

Just my fucking luck that he would be in my little adventuring group--but why? That uncertainty is what truly frightened me. I would have to keep a close eye on him, the creep.

The last map went to a man I was familiar with, having met him once at a dinner party that took a turn for the worse (not my fault, I promise); the elf Elthas Belthasar. He was tall and lean with a long mane of green hair, his muscular frame hidden underneath fine Coronian duds and a long jacket befitting of the man currently running The Trading Company, who the Crimson Hands have a good working relationship with.

And yet... There were several times the past two days since I arrived in the Raiaerans' base camp when I caught him giving me these looks, as if he were watching my every movement.

As the elf took the map from me, I caught a whiff of something rotten coming off him. Cannabis, I thought to myself sourly. "That better be for medical purposes," I said, making no effort to hide my disdain for the weed. The last thing I needed was for Elthas's reflexes and mental faculties to be slowed down just because he wanted to see some pretty lights and get happy for a hour or two.

What a wonderful little party we've assembled here, I mused to myself as I took another look through the folder for the orders the camp commanders scribbled down inside. A plaguesinger, an efficient sociopath, a drug-addled shopkeeper, a worthless brat, and two suicidal sellswords.

I addressed my little group once more, waving the parchment with the orders in front of them. "Right, so, from the looks of things these high elves have everything all figured out. We're being sent in at various points throughout the edge of the Red Forest, traveling in small groups in order to converge on a point deep within the forest--presumably the heart of it, where Podë's power is centered."

I looked up at the group to try and get a read on them. Cellar was distracted once again, the beard and the blond were only slightly interested in hearing what I had to say, Sulla was unreadable past his smile, and Elthas was giving me another one of those looks that gave me the impression that the elves' mission wasn't the only one he was on.

I clicked my tongue softly and balled up my fists, vine-woven knuckles turning a lighter shade of green as my anger simmered. Absolutely nothing was going to go right today.

Elthas was standing before Madision Freebird.

She handed him what appeared to be a map of some sort, he had some working knowledge of the Red Forest, but he would always welcome some sort of extra help to expand that knowledge.

Elthas narrowed his eyes casually as the plans that the his kin, the high elves, put together. She made a rude comment towards him, he let it go. He didn't know if she was speaking of his smoking habits or not...he didn't care. He was there for an entirely other purpose. When the shit hit the fan...and it likely would...he would be the fall back guy. These Adventuring folks were all the same. The nationalistic bullshit again. It's so easy for some pompous bastard in his fancy chamber to send these poor folks to die. And then they wouldn't even care, just write it off as a loss on their account books and send more and more of these folks through the meat fucking grinder. Well I am here to make sure these kids don't pay for some arrogant politicians' bullshit. I am here to bring them home safely. That's when the man in the fedora hat noticed the tag along. The girl from earlier seemed intent on following the bard around. Not that he minded at all, the Adventure Party was the sort of environment one made life-long allies. He nodded towards her. He noticed the absent minded girl and the other members of the party being handed maps as well. Elthas nodded towards Sulla and the other veteran "Heroes".

Except when it comes to one of The Forgotten Ones, there is nothing to figure out. Elthas thought to himself. The bard had his battle horn at the ready and he would sing for their victory when the hour was right. He would follow Madisons' lead for the time being. For now at least. Just stay out of my way. He thought menacingly. Elthas carefully prepared himself. Smoking the cannibus herb earlier had helped him relax. He felt like he was ready. That's when he noticed something very wrong with the mission. There are too many of us. He looked around and the thought had occurred to him that they WERE likely the back up for whatever scheme the Elves were cooking up. Elthas wasn't liking the odds of dealing with a Forgotten One anyway. There were more than one. His knowledge of them was limited, and he hated that he had not spent enough time studying the old books. I have to remedy that when I get back home. Time to learn the layout of this belief system. Time to know the way the enemy operations. N'Jal isn't the only enemy of the people. Elthas thought to himself. He had limited working knowledge of The Thayne Codex, but it would suffice. He would provide whatever aid in the adventure he could.

As he stood there he waited for Madison to give the word.

Then they would all march to certain death.

His expression was a calm but a grim one.

As he stood there listening to the various conversations going on all around him, he knew one thing. The hour is here. Getting himself mentally prepared, he turned to look towards the larger portion of the gathered group. There were bigger, more equipped fellows giving out orders and assembling various teams together. Military protocol. Elthas thought to himself. He didn't like being so close to Madison Freebird, something about her gave him chills. Either way he noticed the leadership structure of the camp beginning to move. He looked towards his would-be female companion with a concerned expression. "Don't be afraid." He said to nobody in particular. She nodded back at his general direction. Then he looked at the absent minded girl that seemed to be at totally the wrong place at the wrong time. She was the only one in Elthas' mind that was the TRUE enigma. Why is that kid even here? That was the one person out of the group of Heroes he couldn't figure out.

The orders were given in the camp and the group began to move out. Elthas kept his eye on how Madison would behave. Keep a close eye on her... Elthas remembered his specific orders that the contractor gave him. Regardless, I'm not dying for this shit either, and I'm here to make sure these kids are NOT thrown away for nothing... Elthas thought to himself as the march into The Red Forest started. Elthas was a quick footed fellow, but he would stay with the group that followed Madison for the time being. He felt thankful to have a friend watching his back and the female companion followed him as well.

"What's your name my lord?" She asked.

"Elthas Belthasar." He responded to her casually. "Yours?"

"Lilly Drendyn." She responded with a soft smile.

"You've fought for a long time." He could see it in her eyes, she had experience. "I'll be certain to return you to your family in one piece. Count on it."

"And I'll be certain to return you to yours." She said in response.

The two shook hands.

Then Elthas focused on the job at hand. His eyes became deadly serious.

The journey had been an arduous crossing on calm, cool seas. As the days slid by in the comfort of my cabin, the boredom bore a rot somewhere deep inside my being. A particularly ugly first mate had the nasty habit of rapping his fingers against the ship’s bannisters while he was on watch; though I nodded and smiled at him on every passing, oh how I loathed his incessant need to remind the world he was there. The cabin boy had felled a small shark during the trip, and for some reason this called for a debauched celebration on deck to welcome him to manhood. Swarthy sailors in peacock costumes swore they’d find him a whore as soon as they made port. I meditated, sometimes for hours on end, to escape the monotony of their petty lives.

My companion Maeylnd earnestly attempted small talk with me. He seemed curious as to my connection to Dussek, my job, my hobbies – his questions just made my search for inner peace that much harder. Control was slipping through my grasp with rapid abandon. Had we not reached shore when we did, I fear I would have blown my cover right open, endangered my life, all to get the world to cease the senselessness.

Raiaera was a strange country to set foot in. The ravages of the Corpse War still stood in stark reminder of a time when the elves could no longer rely on their mysticism and conviction to gird them from sweet reality. Rubble littered the ground as makeshift cobblestone, and it was hard to step a few feet in any direction without tripping over a shard of mythril shattered from some ancient house’s blade. The crusader’s camp attempted to temper the chaotic influx into some sort of order, but it failed to predict the laughable stragglers and stereotypes that flooded it. Harsh men in boiled leather honed their blades in full view of the crowds, desperately grasping at some bragging right. Elves in silk and velvet scampered between the lines, deftly avoiding the scarred soldiers and cowled apostates that breathed their fetid breath around me.

“I have other business to take care of, so I will take my leave now if you believe you are be able to find your way around.” Maelynd had that despicable doublespeak famous of his people; an innate ability to care and condescend at the same time. I regretted not slitting his throat on the ship.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, playfully tugging at a strand of my hair that had grown much too long for my liking. “If all goes well, I’ll meet you back at this camp. We’ll enjoy a nice luncheon on a hill overlooking the purified forest.” He smiled and dashed off to be lost in the crowd. I relaxed a bit then – it’s so tiring to always be on.

Though I had read my dossiers front to back, intel was never perfect until you saw the target in the field. The scant paragraphs could hardly prepare me for the shameful showing that gathered together. Two warriors - one older and clad in animal hide, the other a youth with vile scars on his face – stood close to each other. I could tell they had some skill with the swords they carried, but noticed how the elder put more weight on his right leg than his left, and the youngster’s nervously darting eyes. Details like that were always of some importance later.

A powerhouse of an elf with verdant mane kept himself in a constant haze as he puffed away at his pipe. The cloud that surrounded him had that herbal sweet, all too familiar aroma I associated with poets, the elderly, and the infirmed. He wore noble garb and acted every bit the part; I was hopeful that such sensibilities would prove a useful later.

Madison looked as dreadful as ever – I could never tell if she was exhausted or being eaten from within from some contrition. She dressed fairly well, but put silken trappings on a weed and all you have is a haughty dandelion. Still, she was the most dangerous of the group that I had accounted for. My true feelings were veiled behind a grin and a nod; it didn’t matter that she could melt my flesh with a sneeze, so long as I kept her on edge. I straightened my glasses as she handed me a copy of the map she received, truly gleeful of the reminder that the accoutrement would prevent any accurate description of me later.

My mood soured, though, as I caught sight of the last member. She had that doe-liked quality that most predators sought out – a sickly innocence about her, a thin veneer to hide weakness. I detested her from the first moment our eyes locked, but would not allow my emotions to betray me. My smile never broke, even as I bit my villainous tongue. The quest to end the Lindequalmë would take more than idealism and puppy kisses. Strength, courage, resolve, and a keen animal’s intellect were the only true weapons a mortal had to slay a god.

Madison took charge without ever being asked, and we were soon on our way into the depths of the Red Forest. I remember the storybooks from my youth and the legend of the Red Witch. Podë had stolen the glory of this hallowed earth, and turned it into a mockery. But with each carefully step I took, I saw only a wonder. Gone were dull trees one could see in any spot in the world. This forest looked as if it had been hewn from flesh, with crimson leaves that stretched in desperation for the sun, and gray-skin trunks that sunk into the corpse-worn earth. I had never been an avid gardener, but perhaps I’d steal a few seeds before I slew the witch.

However, my sightseeing ended when I caught another look at that deplorable imp. I wanted to open my mind’s eye to her, to feel her fear and sickness at the sights the surrounded her. But as I looked into her vacant stare, I found something most peculiar – perhaps even frighteningly familiar.

”Joy”

When I first saw the forest I thought it terrifying. I dreamed of all the dangers that lurked inside, of my blood pooling into the damp earth and becoming just another half life in the chaotic creation of a calamitous celestial.

Now, as my troup allowed ourselves to be swallowed whole by the treeline, I felt an inner piece like never before. With each glance at the scenic beauty I felt more and more at home amid that which we sought to destroy. To say I fell in love with the place would be an understatement. I wanted nothing more than to allow myself to become one with nature’s creation.

Every so often I would catch a word or two of the conversation around me. Apparently Muddy Boots had three kids at home and a wife who worried his involvement with the cause would bring a curse upon their door. The scarred man was unmarried and apparently rather enjoyed his freedom often with various barmaids. Our fearless leader kept quiet save for the occasional instruction, though her glances around the group let me know we had our doubts about the same individuals. The third man seemed focused on ensuring the safety of all involved, always a dangerous way to go. The willing hero rarely survives in a good story. The last man was quiet, calculating. He looked each of us over more than once.

I had very nearly proven myself a mute when the barfly caught my stride. “I haven’t heard a peep out of you yet, girl. Care to share a bit about yourself?”

I started to reply curtly, then bit my tongue. Why was I so testy? “What would you like to know?”

“A name would be a fair start I suppose.”

Simple enough. He wasn’t going to believe me anyway. “Cellar. Cellar Door to be exact. I’ve never been a barmaid and I have no interest in pretending for your amusement. I think that about covers the truth of your interest, no?” Apparently biting my tongue had done little good.

His eyes lit up at the challenge. “Now, now. That’s a bit harsh don’t you think? I’m Nicolas. If any of us is to leave this damned place alive I suppose we ought to be able to trust each other, don’t you, Cellar?”

“I hardly think this place is a damned as they’d have us believe.” I had no control of my mouth. It is a curse of being me just as much as poor decision making. “Look around you...does this looked cursed to you?”

I may as well have grown a second head from the look I received. When he had finally regained control of his words he laughed. “No, nothing odd at all about a forest the color of blood.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and gave him a puzzled look. I couldn’t help but notice the others stopping to stare. So much for going unnoticed. The quiet one seemed to look into my very soul through his lenses.

It was only the annoyed voice of the woman in charge that ended the awkwardness. “If you two are finished, the rest of us would like to get back to the task at hand.”

I pressed my lips hard together as we once again moved through the trees. I tried not to let it show, but confusion filled my entire being. His words made no sense. The forest around me was healthy, alive, and very very green.

"Look around you," the little girl had said. "Does this look cursed to you?" The words stuck with me for the hours our group walked down the twisted path that led deeper into the Red Forest. The scarred sellsword Nicolas may have brushed off a comment like that as the delusions of a young woman; but something about them, something about her tone... It didn't sit well with me.

Cellar had been acting oddly since we broke the tree line. More than once, I caught her starting to stray from the rest of us, her eyes filled with wonder, her emotions distant, her mind distracted. At first, I thought it might have been just a sheltered young girl's naiveté and curiosity--she was in a foreign land now, the likes of which cannot be found anywhere else in the world.

But those words struck a chord with me. "Does this look cursed to you?"

They had been on my mind for a while now, even as I led our ragtag group of adventurers and murderers towards whatever horrors awaited them deep in the woods. We had the good fortune to not have come across any of the predatory beasts or shapeshifters that populated Lindequalmë; I was sure that Martin (the bearded adventurer), Nicolas, and Elthas could handle themselves in a fight with the monsters that lurked in the bushes, but Sulla and Cellar I was far less confident about.

My mind wandered to my conversation with Podë before I arrived in Raiaera. The Red Witch said that she had many others she was going to visit before the High Bard Council gave us the orders to storm the heart of her power. It was not a decision I was terribly happy with. I'm more that worthy of carrying on her legacy myself. But, I understood. She was worried that I might fall, that I might fail. That I might not be able to stop the Raiaerans and their conscripts from loosening her grip on the world.

Tactically, it was a reasonable decision. I get that. I get what she's trying to do here. But there was doubt in my heart. She knows what I'm capable of; she knows of the atrocities that I've committed. She knows that I would be willing to commit many more for her if it would give me a fucking purpose in this world.

I felt betrayed. I felt cast aside. I felt like she didn't trust me.

She knew that she was going to die soon, and she wouldn't let me save her.

It hurt.

But, I would still follow her orders. I would simply watch events unfold, keep tabs on the others who she granted her power to, and learn the names of those that ultimately killed her. I would be the supporting character in the last act of her life's story that she saw me fit to be.

And it made me angry.

Cellar's words echoed in my mind again. "Does this look cursed to you?"

In my conversations with Podë and my own interactions with the power she granted me, I learned that her gifts manifested themselves in different ways in everyone. The way the curse interacted with every life form was different, dependent entirely on the strength of their soul and the memories and experiences they've endured. For someone like myself, it allowed me to mutate those that I touch into horrible monsters very much like the one that the world saw me as. But for others...

I didn't finish my thought before things started falling in place. Someone like Cellar, an innocent, sheltered, inexperienced, unskilled, helpless little child...

And then the lack of vicious creatures that normally met those unlucky enough to find themselves deep within the crimson curse-tainted woods...

..."Does this look cursed to you?"

Could it be... That... that wretch is one of Podë's chosen ones?

I raised a briar-knit hand, immediately bringing the others to a halt on the rough dirt path we were ordered to go down. Nicolas cocked his head slightly, confused. "Is something wrong?" I ignored him as I spun around and made straight for Cellar, who had taken up a spot a few paces back from the group. I could feel the piercing gazes of Sulla and Elthas as I approached her, kneeling down slightly to match her height. I looked her square in her sapphire eyes. She returned my gaze, but also seemed to be looking past me. That damned smile continued to adorn her face; that mocking, knowing smile.

"Cellar," I asked her softly. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Madison, of course it is." The smile never left her face as she spoke the words.

I took a deep breath. "I'm going to ask you again, dear." I reached up with my vine-weft hands, lightly touching the sides of her face. "Is everything alright?"

She spoke again, just above a whisper, with a voice that was not her own. A voice that I recognized. "Yes, everything is fine, my little mon--"

The rustling of bushes interrupted her. I spun around to find that Martin was falling to the forest floor, a fresh wound adorning his neck and spurting blood that got caught in his salt and pepper beard as he hit the ground. A vicious-looking brute in black cloth armor stood above him, a crimson-stained dagger gripped tightly in his right hand. One by one, more of his friends emerged from the forest that surrounded us. They circled our little party, weapons drawn and bloodlust in their eyes.

Due to an elevated state of mind brought about by the cannibus herb, Elthas reacted purely on instinct.

His sharp eyes saw it quickly, the rustling of the bushes. His companion already had her weapon at the ready, and one of their party was stricken down. Elthas saw Martin go down quickly and reacted at the same step. He shoved his female companion out of the way with a sudden rush of the adrenal glands. He knew they were everywhere, and there was a distinct scent of fresh death in the air. Rotten. Rotten to the core. He could have sworn he saw the state of the air about them change ever so subtly. Probably due to Podes' influence... "Get down!" Elthas yelled suddenly. He made sure his companion had been pushed out of the way of an incoming blade tip. Elthas felt a sting acrosss his shoulder. The dagger bit through his fancy clothing.

But that's exactly what Elthas wanted.

He knew the rough position of the mystery men as they attacked. His body moved with the full speed he was able to muster. Which was quite impressive, he reacted to his fullest capacity bringing his dagger about in a full motion. He instinctively moved to slice the throat of the leather clad fellow that attacked so suddenly. There were sounds in the wind, sounds of people screaming and dying and fighting. Elthas suddenly wondered if they'd been had. Either way, he'd promised to get that girl home safe. Blood splattered from his dagger strike and he cut the throat of one of the nearest of the fellows. He gurgled in sudden shock and grabbed at his throat as he bled out, it was already over. He fell down dying. Then Elthas looked carefully around. They were surrounded, the girl, Cellar and Madison and Sulla were gone. The group had been effectively cut off from the base camp. Damn, someone has to take charge of this shit. Elthas continued to remain on the move, and then reached for his friend. He helped her stand.

"Keep it together." Elthas said as he cut down two more of the leather clad warriors.

She nodded. After drawing a bastard sword, she also cut down two more.

Elf and Human fought side by side, honouring the old alliances. Blood splattered across the air, touching the wind with it's heavy scent. Elthas screamed angrily. He could only assume that Madison Freebird had somehow set them all up with this little stunt. That was his natural assumption. She's at the center of this shit. Elthas thought, he knew he was separated from the others. Elthas and the girl by his side would fight until they made it to the next closed adventure group, he had to save as many as he could. As he fought through the various groups of attacking bandits, Elthas felt angry. This whole business is ugly and dirty, and the politicians in charged will only write this off as a loss and send another group off to die. They stay in their nice little offices the whole time... He kept his fedora on as he ran at full speed. His dagger met with several throats on the way.

As he ran further and further away from Madison and the rest he got angrier and angrier. He saw a group of Adventurers fighting up ahead a different group of the bandits. It was a surgical strike. Elthas stabbed a bandit in the head and continued to run forward. Once him and his female friend reached the next adventure party, he took out his bards' horn and sheathed his daggers. "Cover me." Elthas yelled. Taking his battle horn, he suddenly blew a rallying song to call forth the allies of his party. Those who were fighting to stay alive. Those who would heed the call of Eluriand and it's people. Elthas took a much higher path that day and blew the horn. The others heard his call and began to quickly rally around the Elf. Though he was an Elf from a different part of the world...he was an Elf none the less. The female companion who fought like a battle maiden by his side, was also rallied by his inspirational song. He called with his battle horn like a spell singer of old.

Funny, a spell singer would help, even indirectly, to bring down Pode.

The paths of the Red Forest twisted as much as the gangly limbs that adorned the trees. Sunlight seemed pale and languid as it fell through the branches, and no birds could be heard to sing their jaunty little ballads. But what the forest lacked for in verdant grace, it more than made up in a seemingly endless number of places to hide. Every twig snap and rustle felt like the dinner bell of some fell creature. I could feel a giddiness inside me; an eager nervousness that I’ve felt a hundred times before. That wonderful, flighty feeling I had crouching in the shadows, stalking my prey from the distance, and listening for the heavy footfalls of nearby guards or witnesses. It whetted me for whatever inevitable end the party would come to. I could also hear my straight razor call out, desperate for use.

Madison stopped us at one point to further question the useless girl; a ridiculous use of our time and a danger to us all. Constant movement meant any attack would require that much more coordination, but I assumed the she-plant required someone to sing to her to allow her to grow strong. Still, there was something very concerning about Cellar. I had kept a keen eye on her on our march, more than on any other companion. And, unfortunately, more than I did on the woods around us.

When Martin fell in a sputtering of blood, my honed instincts kicked it. The chaotic battle that would soon erupt around me required no planning, no pow-wow, no instruction of any kind; when trouble reared ugly head, I did as I always did. ”Escape. Survive. Bide.”

I snuck off into the brush to my right, careful to check for any more of the enemy that might be around. Humans were attacking; whether brigands or assassins, I did not care. Men were simple to deal with, their patters were far more predictable than the randomness of dread animals. As I skulked gingerly through a thorny bush, I could hear more footsteps around me. They hadn’t seem my crouching form, I did not allow them. I was still, quiet, and moving only when I knew the sounds would be covered by their lumbering or during a furious clash of steel.

Soon the cries of battle grew fainter, but one could never let their guard down. Creeping through the forest floor, I kept my eyes and ears open all around. The smallest movement caused my heart to beat with passion that fired all my limbs. Tense, restless, and subtle, I tried to find some cover from which I could formulate a new plan. If my group managed to survive their troubles, they’d no doubt have questions as to my disappearance. Warriors were always so eager to look down on the arts of stealth. They may bemoan it as cowardice, but such dualistic views overlook its sheer effectiveness. Still, I’d rather keep questions of myself and my motives to the barest minimum. I was already out of place with no identifiable weapon or armor, and no magic to speak of. If things went well for them, I’d have to rough myself up a bit to convince them I was off fighting in the brush.

Snap

I don’t often audibly growl, but my body betrayed me in that moment. Something was nearby, though it didn’t sound as if it was getting any closer. If an assailant had attempted to follow me, I’d be sure to put them to an end. Slinking towards the disturbance, I was careful to keep my disturbing the piles of putrid leaves that littered the ground, and observant of any fallen branches. The slightest sound would give me away as easily as it had my prey. As I climbed a knoll, woven with roots from its core, I spotted an amusing sight.

Cellar had her back pressed up against a tree, shirking away from an attack who took his time to eye her over. He wore a ponytail of matted hair, with gray patches and bald spots checkering it. His clothes were unseemly in their filthy, and no doubt he stank as bad as he looked afar. Neither of them spoke, from either shock or some sick daydream, they kept blissfully quiet. And I too remained quiet on my rapid approach. But my footing was uneasy, as I could feel a disturbance beneath my feet. The roots of this hill seemed to slither with a life of their own. The man’s ill-patched boots scarcely noticed the wooded tendrils nipping at his heels. But Cellar’s legs were free from the same molestation. ”Curious.”

The man was about to say some line, no doubt witty, by the time I reached the pair. I didn’t give the foolish Cellar’s eyes time to betray my approach. My straight razor drawn, I swiftly snatched the ponytail, pulled the man’s head back, and slight his throat in one simple move. Caught off guard, his unready sword arm spun around with his body, but I dropped to the ground to kick his legs out from under him. Sweet blood gushed from his neck, though he tried to stop the fount from flowing. I simple climbed on top of him then and pinned his arms to the crimson-soaked earth. I needed to look into his eyes and find that satisfaction denied to me for weeks on end. Surprise and fear, a common appetizer, but oh how I felt that sweet burning hatred when he saw my smile. By the time I arose again, a bit tired from all the excitement, the girl managed to collect her few scattered thoughts.

“Thank you,” she half-whispered. Her voice was distant, as if I had just awoken her from a dream. I had expected some kind of mewling, perhaps even undue praise; something was truly off about her. It was then I remembered the vines on the ground. Some went to work on corpse I just left, but a few more inched their way towards my ankles. Recalling the conversation from earlier, when Madison had confronted Cellar, my mind started to race with possibilities that needed confirmation.

“You know, this really is a beautiful place.” I grinned, all the while propping her emotions for some more clues. There was something alien in there, behind the brattish selfness and greed, behind the fear, behind it all. Some inhuman puppeteer pulled the thin strings of her mind, and felt an emotion I could give no name to. My smile grew wider. “They don’t see it like we do,” I said, stepping closer. I could feel a confusion wash over her. She distrusted me, reviled me, but I had yet to make such a major misstep. At the same time, I’d saved her, and I could feel the little princess inside cry out for a knight. “Of course,” I chuckled mere inches away, my voice hushed “I don’t need Podë’s eyes to see it.”

Though my punch to her throat was viciously quick, I held back a bit on my strength. My arm grabbed her fragile form as it struggled for breath. I needed her alive, for now.

Run I screamed the word in my own mind the moment the chaos started. I cannot say where my mind had wandered. One moment Madison touched my skin and the next I felt like I’d just awoken from a beautiful dream to find myself in a nightmare. The beautiful forest I’d walked peacefully moments before absorbed the blood of Martin and in an instant matched its hue. The trees began to grow in strange ways, their trunks became thick and gnarled and the flowers began to shrivel into disgusting decaying designs. I stood in awe for just a second before my own voice registered. Run

My legs obeyed, but it was far too late. I succeeded in clearing the first line of rotting foliage only to feel someone hit me from behind, hard. The man hit full force against my spine and fell on top of my small frame. The wind left my lungs in a strange gasp. My attacker seemed worse off from the fall as well though, and I used the chance to grasp at the rotting ground and push myself forward. I found my footing just as he grabbed my ankle. I regained my balance just enough to send a forceful kick behind me straight into his face. It wasn’t the most graceful of moves, but all I needed was a head start.

I didn’t get it. The large pony-tailed man was fast. Far faster than I’d counted on. He was on me in a moment and quickly grabbed my arm. I spun against my will only to be shoved forcefully against a tree trunk. The bark bit into my back through my shirt and I could feel the scrapes burning on my arms from the fall. The foul stench of death came at me from all directions and vomit sat at the base of my throat. I couldn’t look into his eyes. I knew all at once that I had been lied to. There was nothing in this place but pain and sadness. I closed my eyes tight and prayed. Whatever being that had thus far spared me surely still heard. Hadn’t I learned by now that good and evil didn’t exist? There are only choices. At this moment, my choice was to find an ally wherever it may be.

I felt the man’s arm leave my chest. I tensed, ready for a the blow that was sure to come. Instead, I felt only a spray of liquid. I opened my eyes slowly and looked down upon my blood-covered body. It was impossible to tell what was mine and what belonged to the dead man who now lay at my feet. I watched as the forest began to swallow him whole.

“Thank you.” I managed the words in hurried breaths. The man, Sulla just stared at me with those same questioning eyes. The small amount of light that fought its way through the treetops reflected off his glasses as he glanced around.

“I don’t need Podë’s eyes to see it.” His voiced seemed to echo through the air. How did he know what I only suspected? I didn’t have time to answer my own thought. My throat suddenly exploded with pain and everything faded to a dark gray.

The fighting was quick and brutal, just the way I liked it.

The sudden appearance of this new group and their murder of Martin caused several of my party to scatter. Elthas, his female companion whose name I haven't remembered yet, and Nicolas immediately drew their weapons and went on the offensive. Those three seem alright on their own, I thought as I tore The Last Resort out of its holster and cocked back the hammer.

Before me stood three men clad in dark leather gear. The trio looked pretty rough and tumble, as if they had spent a lifetime ambushing adventuring parties and caravans for sport. They sprinted towards me, knives in hand.

One of these guys, the man on the right, looked to be of Salvic descent. Tall and moderately handsome, he had the build of a seasoned warrior. I would go into further detail about him, but it would be a waste of time. A burst of fire erupted from the barrel of my revolver, and the bullet caught him square between the eyes, immediately dropping him.

I moved my arm over to put the second guy in my sights, but he was quicker than I had accounted for. He quickly knocked my hand aside and plowed into me, knocking the pistol onto the crimson weed-choked forest floor in the process. We collapsed to the ground, his bulk pinning me to the dirt as I struggled to free myself. He managed to maneuver himself so he was sitting on my stomach, pressing his right forearm in my throat, choking me.

A yellowed grin missing several teeth crossed his dark, scarred face as he continued to crush my windpipe. "You thought you'd get all th' glory to yourselves, eh?" With his free hand, he reached around and slowly unsheathed a very nasty-looking dagger with a serrated edge. A ray of light glinted off the polished blade, and for the first time in a while I felt a pang of fear in the back of my mind. I had to do something, and quick.

With all of my strength, I tried to push the brute off of me. I managed to shift his weight just enough to free my left hand, which was all that I needed. Thin threads of vine in the palm of my hand split, revealing twin pods. From them, a cloud of gray spores grew. I swung my hand into the man's face, catching him in the nose with a palm strike. It wasn't enough to knock him off me... But that wasn't my goal.

"Oof!" He dropped his dagger onto the ground next to us as he clutched his face with both hands. He pulled them away, his eyes scanning for blood. "You stupid bitch," the attacker growled, "do you think that will be enough--" He paused suddenly, a look of horror flashing in his eyes. And then, he screamed. It was a guttural howl that should not have come out of the throat of a man. The brute tumbled off of me, his hands clutching and clawing at his face as his skin turned an ashen gray and peeled away, revealing muscle and bone underneath.

I slowly rose to my feet, collected my gun, and stared down the last of the trio over the twitching bodies of his dying comrades. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before summoning a ball of fire in his hands, which he launched at me. I waved a briar-knit fist in the air, leaving behind a trail of red spores that hungrily gobbled up the spell before I could even feel the heat off it. The mage flinched seeing this, fear creeping across his young face as I took a step closer to him.

The boy immediately bolted deeper into the forest, his boots crushing grass and flowers as he ran away from me. I took off after him, jumping over the corpse of the Salvic man as thick blood pooled underneath his cold, still face. The little brat was fast, I'll give him that much credit. He was slowly but surely getting ahead of me. I had to act fast before he could get away. Pools of acid formed in my briar-knit hands, instantly crystallizing into sharp amber shards that could make quick work of flesh and cloth. I threw my left hand forward, launching the acidic daggers forth. The little mage picked that moment to jump over a fallen tree trunk and juke to the right. The shards roared past him and crashed harmlessly into the bushes beyond.

I leaped over the same log and turned down the path to catch up with him. I had the brat in my sights once more; I threw forth my right hand, and this time I did not miss. Several acidic shards found their marks, catching him in his ankles and behind his knees. The boy immediately dropped to the ground, his hands stopping him from knocking his chin against the hard dirt floor. In his desperation, he rose to his feet and tried to take another step. His legs betrayed him, and he fell to the weeds once more.

I took my sweet time drawing closer to him. I could hear the sweet sounds of his whimpers and prayers. Nothing is going to save you now, I mused to myself. One of my mythril daggers sighed softly as I drew it from its leather sheath. I knelt down next to him, savoring the moment. This little fuck was at my mercy. I would relish it while I could.

A flash of metal, a spurt of blood, and a scream. I pinned this little wretch to the dirt by his hand and crept around to face him. I grabbed his hair and lifted his head up. His face was twisted in pain, teeth bared in a snarl as he tried to struggle against my vice-like grip.

"You're not going anywhere right now, so you may as well save it," I said drolly as I sat cross-legged before him. I gazed into his fear-stricken eyes, relishing his panic as he tried to avert his gaze.

"I'm only going to ask you twice. Why?"

The boy stammered as he tried to find his courage in the face of imminent death. "I-I'm not telling you anything, whore!" The fear in his eyes was briefly replaced by a flicker of hatred as he spat out the words.

I slowly reached down to his impaled hand, lightly caressing his fingers as I wrapped my briars around them. I squeezed them softly, and allowed a few droplets of acid from my hand to sear his flesh. My captive squealed in pain as his flesh began dissolving, thin wisps of acrid smoke rising from the gaps between my fingers.

"Let's try this again," I snarled. "Why?"

Between pained gasps and tearful whimpers, he told me everything. "Oh gods, why... I didn't know we was going to kill anyone... Temur... It was all his idea. He wanted us to have all the glory of... of killing the Forgotten One. Nobody else; just us. All of the glory, and all of the treasure. I-I swear! I didn't want to do it! It was all him! It was all Temur!"

I leered at the boy. "What was his plan?" I squeezed the boy's decaying digits tighter, sending another jolt of incredible pain up his arm.

He grimaced before answering. "We was to sweep across the forest, across the paths that the elves marked out on everyone's maps... One by one, Temur wanted us to kill everyone while they were tied up with all of the horrible things lurking in the woods. He thought it would be easy. He promised that it would be easy."

"And then you ran into me," I muttered.

"We learned after the first group that... that witch Podë was possessing people and causing chaos within the ranks of those that the elves sent in." The boy paused for a moment to catch his ragged breath. "You're... You're one of them, aren't you? One of the possessed ones?"

I smiled as acid began pooling in the back of my throat. "Not quite."

Elthas is disqualified for not making the 24 hour time limit.

Out of Character:

Drunk.

It’s a terrifying feeling when the earth itself becomes your enemy. Every tree, vine, bush, and even stagnant puddle became suspect in intention and required a careful eye. Dragging Cellar through scarcely passable trails became a far more arduous. Had I not been blessed with the constant loom of a healthy paranoia, her abduction would have become a fool’s errand. But no matter how hard the forest floor bit at my heels, I would not relent in taking her some place safe from it all. Within her fragile mind lay the key to the Red Witch’s source of power in these haunted woods. Perhaps, if just the right kind of prodding, I could even discover some weakness to finally damn that wretched witch.

The girl was thankfully light. As the last threads of thrashing conscious left her, I managed to sling Cellar over my shoulder and make a steady pace deeper into the thickets. No doubt someone would come to pursue us further, whether it be Madison, Elthas, or more ill-prepared henchmen; I was confident that with the right planning, I could kill them all. But no was not the time for fun and games. I’d had my laugh with the man who’d assaulted the girl, and his mangled corpse would still the ever-beating need inside me to watch something die. Now was a time of action.

I finally found respite in a clearing by a pool. It stank to high heaven with a grotesque rot that brought bile from deep within my stomach to the forefront of my throat, but I managed to push the tides back through sheer force of will. As I lay the girl against a stone, the safest thing I could find, I double checked to make sure any form of nature was distant enough to give me fair warning for its attack. An animal had a chance of sneaking up on me in the brush, but out here, I’d have the precious seconds required to react.

A crimson mud was all the bed I could offer my hostage, but it would do for the moment. I slapped her face with a rough hand to jolt her into the waking world. Had I the time for rest, I could admire the wonderful splattering of blood on her clothes, or that sheepish look on her sleeping face. My smile could no longer greet her, as I hadn’t the time for my normal pleasantries. She stirred in her dreams for only a moment, before two round and puffy eyes braced themselves for an uneasy reality.

“I’m glad you had nice nap,” I growled. “But now, I’m afraid, I need all of that poor excuse you call a mind at full alert.” A dumb silence seemed to have stricken her. Had the girl been a mute, perhaps I would have liked her more. Hell, if more people were as quiet, I’d consider myself gregarious.

“Wha..what happen – “ I struck a blow across her face that sounded clear and hard around. I was too enthusiastic, still drunk on blood from my kill earlier. Finesse would be difficult to conjure in such a tense situation, but I’d manage somehow. I always did.

“Literally no time for that.” I checked over both of my shoulders, nearly having a heart attack as I saw a ripple in the pool behind me. The muddied waters seemed to have a life of their own, until I calmed myself by noticing the scarlet leaves from above that caused the surface to break. I turned back to her, my mind’s eye search her soul again. “Where is Podë? What have you seen? What does the Red Witch fear? What are her weaknesses? What has she told you?” There was no elegance to my rapid questions. I could not afford to be coy in this moment. I could feel the confusion and fear rife in her, but that alien taint seemed far too muted for my liking. Perhaps Podë had retreated out of her body. If that were the case, and I was wasting my time, I’d be none too pleased.

“I don’t know what you’re t –“ This strike was backhanded, and with more the length of my arm. The sound was muffled, but I could see the first few droplets of fresh blood form at the gash in her lip.

“You’ll tell me all I need to know, or you’ll have her speak for herself.” I drew my straight razor now. Perhaps putting things into perspective would loosen her tongue. Women were such vain creatures. Death may not frighten them, but none could stand to watch their beauty marred.

At first all I felt was the searing pain in my cheek. Soon after I felt my arms and legs also screaming from the various scrapes and bruises. I ached as though I’d fought the harshest battle of my life. I suppose on some level I had. My hair matted with blood stuck to my tear-stained cheeks. I hadn't even realize I was crying.

The man seemed certain I could provide the answers he needed. Whatever he saw inside me wasn't there. One look at his stony expression told me he had no intention of accepting that fact.

To be honest, I didn't see how I could get out of this one. I tried to reason but that only led to another shot of intense pain as his palm struck my face. I gasped for air as he pulled a blade. He waved it tauntingly in front of my face.

What else could I do? I pulled the image from my map, now long lost in the heart of the forest to mind. We were not far from the base of the Tarot Hierarchy. If I could just lead him there, surely Leona or one of the other members would come to my aid. “My home lies in the heart of the forest. Due east. Let me free and I'll lead you there."

The lie escaped my lips in desperate huffs. My voice was shaky and less powerful than I'd hoped, but it was all I had. The stranger cocked his head to the side curiously. Had I succeeded?

A smile played on his lips. Please, just please believe me. I don't want to die here. Not on a fools errand within the most beautiful, wretched place I've ever known.

The man glanced toward the eastern skyline as though he could see through the trees. My heart began to beat faster. My fear began to fade and the slightest bit of hope found its way to my mind. I don't know how he saw it. My expression did not betray me, but somehow, he knew. He twisted the blade in his closed fist before quickly delivering a punch just below my left temple. I could feel my consciousness drifting.

"Well, I suppose if you have no answers. I have no further use for you." His voice was cold. The reflection in his glasses showed a scared little girl. All this time I've tried to change, to become strong enough, and now I would die just as I'd always been. Helpless and alone. All because I thought I'd find glory inside the cursed treeline. Like I said, it's all about choices.

I couldn't respond. I gave in to the exhaustion and let my body relax. At least if he ended me the pain would stop.

I woke to a pain that could only belong to humanity. The weakness of a mortal body never ceased to amaze me. "Did you truly believe I'd allow a simple girl to speak for me?" My voice resounded through the small clearing.

The man, Sulla, turned. His eyes were bright with mischief. "So you can speak."

His arrogance in my own home amused me. Did he think himself beyond my grasp? I could feel my vessel weakening with each passing moment, but I had the forest in my control. He would not be rid of me even if he slaughtered the girl.

I tried to hide the smile that graced Cellar's lips as we watched a vine slowly crawl across the ground toward the attackers ankles.

Yes, my plans could proceed without the child, but her silly naivety made her a perfect vessel. What better way to live out my last few hours? I had accepted my fate, but there was fun yet to be had.

Nobody would ever find the young mage. If they had, nobody would even recognize him in the state of steaming rot that I left him in. Perhaps they would recognize the gore-soaked leather armor that the chunks of his rapidly-melting body were housed in; perhaps they wouldn't. If any of his friends found him, they could take his remains as a sign to not mess with an Agent of Podë. The Red Forest was filled with many horrors; not all of them were flora or fauna.

And I will not have some glory-hungry upstarts fuck things up for me this day.

Minutes passed--I couldn't tell you how many--as I trudged my way back to the narrow clearing where my group was attacked, climbing over downed trees with ash-gray bark and dying crimson leaves. The forest was silent, watching, wary of the multiple intrusions made hours ago by those seeking to kill themselves a villain. Surely, The Red Witch had been keeping tabs on everyone who crossed her borders, right? I mean, she told me that she would visiting others in a big to cause as much destruction as she could before she met her ultimate fate at the hands of... whoever.

I wish I had the insight she had. I wish I could peek into the aether and see the face of the bastard who will take Podë's life.

It hurts that I can't. Like, actually hurts me. She gave me the lives of my parents, she gave me her power, she gave me purpose. That I stand to lose that so soon... It feels like the icy claws of the fates are gripped tight around my heart and are slowly squeezing the life out of me, chuckling softly to themselves as I flail madly in an effort to fight them off.

Her demise is certain, as hard as it is for me to accept that. I will find the fucker who does it, and I will destroy everything they've ever known and loved. I will tear their bastard's heart out and melt it in my grasp as they watch on and then grind their bleeding, lifeless corpse to dust and scatter it to the four winds. Nothing will remain of them for the world to mourn except their name and a warning against those who would follow in their footsteps.

I made a silent promise to myself to see that through to the end, no matter the cost. Podë may not be alive then to appreciate it, but I will enjoy the revenge in her name regardless, for taking something important to me so soon.

The stench of death emanated from the clearing by the time I made my way back to it that made bile creep up my throat. Bodies of the recently slain, both friend and foe alike, littered the crimson weed-choked ground. I scanned them for members of my party, finding only the bodies of Beard and Blond, the latter of which had taken several stabs to his chest from a dagger. About eight bodies belonged to the assholes who attacked us--it seems that we left no man alive as well.

I continued to scan the bodies for signs of the others from my group. I overturned several corpses, seeing nothing but faces that I did not recognize. Where the hell is everyone?

"Elthas?" I looked around the clearing, seeing nothing but the red of the leaves in the canopy and the ashen bark of the cursed trees encircling me like a cage. "Sulla? Cellar? Where the hells are you?"

None of the bodies could be identified as any of those three people. Elthas was a far more capable warrior than his drug habit would lead you to believe. He survived the party--no, not party; fiasco--at the mansion I attended that was rudely interrupted by a splinter horde of Xem'Zund's former forces; surely a few armed mooks couldn't take him out. Sulla, well... The man was a murderous sociopath. He probably ducked out the moment the first blade was drawn.

It was Cellar Door that I was afraid for the most. I had my suspicions about her behavior ever since we broke the tree line. They were all confirmed the moment I heard her voice escape those lips... Useless, bratty Cel had been one of The Red Witch's chosen ones. That scrawny little wretch was one of the few that would make it hell for everyone else.

And she was alone out there, with that creep Sulla lurking in the crimson bushes.

My head started spinning. I didn't like that Podë decided to put her trust into others in her time in need, and I certainly didn't like that she picked her as one of them, but it was my duty nonetheless to guarantee their safety until the bitter end. I had to find Cellar, and fast. But where do I begin?

Let's start with the basics. "Cellar?" I called her name out, and received no answer. "Cellar?" Louder, this time.

Rustling of blood grass behind me drew my attention. I whipped around to see the corpse of Nicolas, who had jittered back to life rather unexpectedly. Blood continued to ooze from his gaping chest wounds. His body fought through the rigor mortis that had taken hold of it, his actions stilted and sudden as he sat up shakily.

"He took her, you know." His words were articulate and perfect, very uncharacteristic of the death rattles of the dead.

"No surprise, I guess." It was probably best for me to simply play along with this situation, all things considered. "Any idea why? Or where?"

Nicolas's neck popped as he tried to force a smile. "The murderer seeks a way to kill me through her. He is not the one, my little monster."

Podë, I thought to myself. I felt my chest swell with a dark energy, a quick shot to pick me up and set me about the task at hand. The dead adventurer's arm rose, his fingers manipulated by the witch's energy to point deep into the forest to my left. "Stop him, if you would be so kind."

I immediately broke out into a sprint in the direction that she pointed me in.

”She Speaks.”

“Apparently I did,” I said with a wry smile tingling on my lips. There was no better way to engage the unknown than with a completely dismissive attitude. Powers beyond the normal realm of human comprehension were rife with fear in more mundane men, but I had always managed against spellweavers and planewalkers by a clever inability to be impressed. No matter the strength nor reach of the preternatural, there was always some means by which is could be understood, else it wouldn’t exist. “You’ve been a difficult girl to get in touch with, Podë.”

I locked on to the eyes that once belonged to Cellar, now glazed over with some foolish attempt at dignity; no matter what soon-to-be corpse the Red Witch inhabited, nothing could brighten such threadbare regalia. That alien feeling crept inside me now with an all-encompassing potency, and no doubt the meager god could sense all the dwelt within me. The thing once known as Cellar tried to rise, uneasy, as if on the legs of a newborn foal. She shook like the limbs of the trees in the distance, as if a simple gust of wind could knock her down.

“You have called for me, but for what end?” She spoke with two voices, the girl’s and something wholly unnatural. My skin seemed to prick at the very sound of it.

“Yours, I hope.” I stretched to grab the feeble creature, who struggled and twisted in the most inhuman ways to try and escape my grasp. Her efforts were futile, as I soon stood behind her with the straight razor at her neck. I began to whisper into her ear as one would to a lover, so I’m told. “Where do you dwell? What hurts you? What do you fear?”

“Questions are pointless, and your efforts wasted.” Her neck turned, and I was sure that if it stretched any more the head would spin clean around. “You could kill this vessel, but I have others. You are nothing.” Her voice was slow, like the pounding rhythm of a war drum at the head of a host just outside city walls. From the corner of her eye, I could just make out an emotion that I had mastered since I was a boy. Contempt.

It drove me wild. With a recklessness unknown to me, I slammed my forehead into the back of her skull and tripper her with my leg. As the herald tumbled to the ground, I leapt upon to stare dead into her eyes. As I tried to pin her down, however, I felt a slithering itch on my skin. Though my steady right hand still managed to keep a blade to the witch’s throat, my left arm had been snared by a vine that crept up on me. It pulled tightly and tried to dig into my flesh, though its efforts halted as I nicked the tender skin of Cellar’s throat ever-so-gently with my blade.

“Now, you see, that hurts.” My heart raced, and my chest felt as if it had a ton of raw iron weighing it down. My breath had become labored, and I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I had begun that slow spiral towards losing composure. “Who are your other vessels? Are they as easy to catch as this girl? Perhaps a rabbit?”

“Fool. I had many and more. You stand within the greatest of them all. This forest is more than just my masterpiece. Every drop of rain that falls within I feel, every footstep I hear, and every hapless adventurer I see.” I could feel the coil vine tighten again, clawing its way into my arm.

“And yet you’re having so much trouble actually doing anything about it. These malformed trees and stained earth aren’t some marvel from which you rule on high,” I laughed in her face, spittle forming at my lips as I pulled against the vine in anger. “It’s your prison. You can see through the bars, but you can’t walk outside of it.” So engrossed with the scene, that I didn’t manage to hear the approach of an old familiar pair of boots behind me.

My body ached. I could feel my heart racing and I wished for nothing but sleep. I didn’t understand this battle. How could I be of any significance in a fight I had no desire to be a part of?

Madison appeared with no warning and soon she and my captor were sizing each other up. The conversation was impossible to follow as every few words I would feel myself lose consciousness. It was as if someone were pulling me away.

Sulla held me tightly. I had no hope of escape. I would be crushed beneath two titans as soon as the toying stopped. I imagined myself slowly sinking into the decayed forest floor. I closed my eyes tightly and prayed for an end.

“Shit!” Suddenly I was pulled from my half-dream. It took a long moment to realize that I was no longer held in place. Something, or someone had convinced the man to let me go. I did not stand around long enough to find out what. Every exhausted muscle in my body tensed as I ran with all my might. I didn’t look back. All I could do was run. Tree limbs stung my face as I forced my way into the dense forest. I could feel sweat dripping down my back and my hair whipped from side to side. I had never pushed myself this hard.

I can’t say for how long I ran. The sunlight was weak as it broke the treetops when I finally let myself stop. I fell to my knees and then gave into my tired body. I laid my head on the cool soil and felt myself sink into the ground. I wasn’t afraid anymore. After all of this, I was prepared for whatever came. I would embrace death if it meant never again stepping foot in this horrid place.

My last thought was of the beautiful forest I’d entered just hours before and just how much we’d both changed.

The warmth hit me suddenly. I opened my tired eyes and stretched. My body ached terribly, but I was alive. The flowers around the clearing filled my nostrils with sweetness and my makeshift bed seemed to hold me tighter with each passing moment. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay a part of this perfect moment for as long as possible.

A gentle voice filled the air and I forced myself to grudgingly sit up.

“I hope you are well rested.” The sunlight hid her face, but there was no doubt who the voice belonged to.

I stammered as I pulled myself up. “I...I did, thank you.” I backed away slowly, half afraid, half saddened at losing my little sanctuary.

“There is no reason to fear me Cellar. If I’d wanted you harmed it would have been too easy to accomplish.” She stepped closer and smiled. “In truth, I find you rather interesting. It isn’t often such an average human catches my attention.”

“Then how did I?” The question left my lips despite my fear. Curiosity always seemed to win against good judgment in my life. I stared hard at the thick green grass.

“I will die soon.”

My head jolted up.

“No, let me finish. I have known for some time that my end was near. I do not fear the end. My goal is not to save myself, but to find those worthy of carrying on my power. I have watched many enter my home in the last days. Few have stood out. You, you are special.”

I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. “I am as ordinary as it comes.”

“No, true you have no extraordinary power, but there is more to you than most would know. I’ve seen your memories, I’ve shared your body. You, Cellar Door, are untainted by the ideals of most men. You believe in personal responsibility, that the world is not black and white, but endless shades of gray. You, are capable of carrying on part of me.”

My eyes must have given away my confusion. I took a step closer.

“Not my power. Magic would only ruin the things that make you strongest. Yes, little one, you are strong. Not just anyone could have taken control of themselves as often as you did during our little adventure. I’m sure you met my faithful servant Madison. She will live on as a symbol of my strength. You, you will live on as a symbol of my knowledge. Look around you. None other has seen the true beauty of this place in many years. I will pass on all my knowledge if you only make me one promise.”

I couldn’t resist. The knowledge of centuries of both man and Thayne? “Of course.”

“Do not try to change the course that is already in place. There is no use in it. Fate does exist, despite your beliefs. My fate is already settled.”

“But if I can….”

“No. This is the promise I require.”

I said nothing for a long moment. Pode had saved me even after I’d entered this forest to strike her down. I owed her everything. ”I...I promise.”

She closed the few steps between us and placed her hand upon my forehead. I could hear the wind gently blowing through the trees. A bird chirped in the distance. The earth beneath me moved slowly.

And then everything was quiet.

The clicking of the flintlock mechanism as I pulled back the hammer on The Last Resort echoed through the forest, the ticking of a clock's hands as they counted down the seconds until someone met their ultimate fate. Sulla, ready in a moment's notice to slash the throat of one Cellar Door, froze as I pressed the barrel of the revolver lightly into the back of his skull. It wasn't the kind of freeze that was born out of fear; instead, it was more like he froze simply because it would be very inconvenient for him to try anything stupid.

"Let her go," I commanded him.

To my surprise, Sulla obliged. The murderer slowly moved the razor away from the young girl's throat and removed his arm from around her. The second she was free, Cellar took off into the forest. The Red Witch will take care of her now, I thought to myself as I watched her bolt.

"So, let me guess," the killer said rather calmly considering his situation, "you're an acolyte too?"

I could hear the mirth in his voice, and it did nothing but annoy me even further. "That's none of your business," I said after a brief pause.

I practically heard his grin widen as he thought about my pause. "You are... Well now, isn't that interesting..."

"Shut up," I snapped. "Why did you kidnap the girl and run off?"

"Isn't it obvious? To kill a god, just like everyone else in this cursed wood is trying to do." Sulla winced slightly as I dug the barrel of the gun further into the back of his head. "I suppose the more important question is why did you come rescue that little whore? I thought you were better than that."

Cellar, I thought. "Because that's what she wants." I started pulling my finger back on the trigger, a litany of voices screaming in my head to just fire the damn thing and blow this creepy fuck's brains out. "I'm only here to see that she sees through to the end--an end that she tells me will not come by your hand."

"But is that what you want?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me, Madison." Sulla slowly began to turn around to face me, his dead eyes staring deep into my very soul behind his thin glasses, a scowl etched onto his face. He showed no fear at the prospect of me putting an iron bullet between his eyes the moment my trigger finger got an itch. "Is that what you want? To stand by and watch as the idol you've dedicated your life to pats you on the head and turns her attentions towards others who may be more worthy of her gifts, her love than you are?"

You son of a--! I moved the barrel of the gun to the left, right next to his ear and over his shoulder, and pulled the trigger. The rapport ripped through the forest like thunder, the ashen bark of a dead tree splintering as the bullet embedded itself into the trunk. Before Sulla could react, I cocked back the hammer and aimed the smoking weapon directly at his face once more.

The gunshot right next to my head served more than just a warning. I could hear that crack of my eardrum, and then the dull hum and sharp pain that followed it nearly sent me reeling back. I had to wince, but regained some semblance of control of myself in the face of Madison. She’d caused me to release my quarry and attempted to keep me at her mercy, but I would give her neither the time nor satisfaction to lord the position over me. I looked into her cold eyes to sense a maelstrom of emotions poorly hidden behind them. Had she the sense to, she would finish me off as quickly as possible. But I could guess at Madison’s nature well enough to know she derived some pleasure from the power over life and death, especially in regards to an enemy. I never doubted my survival for a second.

“Misdirected anger,” I hissed. “I didn’t compromise your trust. No doubt I performed exactly as you expected.” I peppered each syllable with a taste of the pain I felt in my ruptured ear. It gave my tone a wonderful bite needed to truly drive my point home. “But here you are, unable to unleash all those pent up feelings on who really hurt you; the hypocrite god and her pet champion. Most mythic heroes turn to misotheism in such when their gods forsake them. I’m glad you’re one to stare into the face of reason before turning a blind eye to it.”

I felt Madison press the barrel of the gun hard into my forehead; were the metal any sharper, it may well have bore a hole straight into my skull. My heart felt as if it would give out any minute, so exhausted from its constant pace. Time slowed to a crawl and the world seemed to vanish around me. The setting of the sun, the change in the air, even the vine that had ripped at me earlier; none of it existed at that moment. All I saw and felt was the cold touch of steel on my head.

“Do you think I won’t pull this trigger to end your fucking speech? You have no idea what Podë has done - “

“That’s the thing, sweet Madison. I know what she has done, because I know what all gods have done - fuck all.” I took advantage of the surprise she felt at that moment, lifting slowly off the ground with my hands raised and the gun still at my temple. Fear is not an emotion I’ve ever been capable of experiencing in full. In truth, I’m often envious of those I hunt when I catch that sharp glimmer in their eyes. Terror at its most true and blinding seems such an opportunity at awe. But whenever danger has reared itself in such a way that I’ve seen the strings of fate snip from my coil, I’ve always felt something very different. There is a worry, no more than a whisper, that all that I am and all my potential will be snuffed out in that instant. Yet at the forefront, I feel that pumping excitement in me. My body takes the concept of a threat, and gives my muscles and mind everything they need to run on instinct. Looming destruction isn’t to be avoided, it’s a drug to be chased. Every second I spoke, I could feel Madison fluctuate in hesitation, anger, sorrow, distrust, hatred, revilement – the die was cast, and there was no telling what side it would land on.

“You’re nothing to her. You’re a fucking ant at a picnic, waiting for scraps and near the business end of a boot. You won’t kill her,” she said, biting her bottom lip like a sullen child.

“But I really, really want to.” Face to face with her, I had a chance. My eyes darted rapidly around the clearing for the closest edge of forest to enter. No doubt the Red Witch would hamper my escape, but logic and reason would give way to my animal’s cunning in those woods. “Ants don’t ruin picnics, Madison. But me? I’m the homemade pickled relish that turns toxic when improperly preserved. I’m the carriage driver who gets drunk on the way to the fairground and takes the slipperiest path. I’m not the rain, I’m the lightning. I don’t just ruin picnics; I make people afraid to even utter the fucking word outside a hushed warning.” Madison moved a little closer to me, tempted by my challenge. She met her hard-ass eyes to my steely gaze. I almost pitied her.

“Your smart mouth is going to get you killed, you know that?” The gun’s barrel moved to just between my eyes. The smirk on her face was sickening, but she was too focused on the moment and the poetry that dripped from it. She never saw my foot dig a bit into the earth and the mound of dirt I collected on the toe of my boot.

“You know the worst thing about a sharp tongue?” I watched her shake her head back and forth so slightly, but the movement jarred her enough not to notice my wince. With all my resolve, I bit into the tip of my tongue, not hard enough to sever, but enough to draw warm, copper blood. I paused and feigned a smile as it welled up inside my cheeks. Confusion flushed her face, and that was my cue to strike. I spit all the spray right in her eyes as I swept my right hand around to meet her gun. I pushed it to my left and twisted my body in the opposite direction.

As she recoiled in disgust, she had enough sense to keep ahold of her weapon, forcing it back blindly in my direction. The gun went off, though the bullet only left a deep graze on my shoulder. The pain was searing and fast, but I had no time to nurse my wounds. I fell to the ground and gathered the mount of dirt I’d made earlier, flinging it to mingle with the blood on the she-plant’s face, all as I rolled clumsily towards her legs, knocking her off her feet for a moment. But a moment was all I needed. I got up clutching my wound and throwing my head back from time to time to make sure I had enough clearance to make it into the thicket. The woods embraced me as they never had. I had no time to skulk, only to crouch and run, lest another shot of fire take me down.

Podë’s power was in everything in this forest. Each stomping beast and twisted tree, and even several agents she’d gifted with her maleficent visions. But if her regency relied on such poor castle walls, what was left of its queen?

This thread was an easy read that hooked me after the party split up following the ambush. Storywise, you did excellent. You all established your character's reasons for participating in the cleansing early and quickly added your characters individual charms. However, despite the easy reading and fast pace of action in the thread, I was unable to give you a higher pacing score because of the muddled use of active v. passive time in this thread. On several occasions one player would advance the thread utilizing active time only to have another character rehash the previous actions, hurting the flow of your writing.

Character wise, I think you did a fine job with action. The forest setting was mentioned, but became secondary to the violent actions taken by Madison and Sulla and the thread, which was awesome. Persona was one of the weaker parts of this thread. Elthas' metaknowledge of the bandit's locations and general withdrawal from the rest of the part did not help here. Similarly, Cellar's sudden willingness to be the vessel of knowledge for Pode was abrupt and not well developed. Finally, while I enjoyed Madison's jealousy and internal conflict regarding Pode's choices, BlackandBlueEyes' character was hurt by his writing. Non-chalant, somewhat aloof Madison was not what I expected following the introduction. She did not become the ruthless killer I expected until she slaughtered the marauder and confronted Sulla. Sulla, on the other hand, stayed true to his character and really kept me from offering a lower score here.

Core mechanics in this thread were fine. I only noted the occasional run-on that caused me to read twice. Elthas, be sure to include commas or semi-colons when there are natural breaks in your writing. Sometimes your flow of thought was hard to read. Technique was good, particularly due to the foreshadowing involving Cellar. You had some missed opportunities with similes, metaphors and imagery given the forest, though. The weakest part of the quest was clarity. It was clear that you guys were writing the story together (VIA Google Docs, if I recall right), but that gave you a familarity over your characters and NPCs that were not readily apparent to the reader. Cellar would create cute nicknames for people, but I had no clue as to which NPC she was referring. The concept of "show don't tell" also became an issue here, as I suspected it might due to the 1st person writing. Both BlackandBlueEyes and to a minor extent, Cellar Door, were guilty of this. At one point, BlackandBlueEyes wrote, "I felt betrayed. I felt cast aside. I felt like she didn't trust me...It hurt...And it made me angry." I can't think of any better example of telling the reader what to feel rather than letting them figure it out on your own. Realistically, Madison's slaughter of the bandit expressed how she was feeling better than that (albeit well formatted) prose that I quoted above ever could.

Judgment Group 6 (Taste of Treason, BlackandBlueEyes, Sulla)

Story - 8
Setting - 7
Pacing - 6
Communication - 6
Action - 7
Persona - 5
Mechanics - 7
Technique - 6
Clarity - 5
Wildcard - 6

Total - 63/100

Taste of Treason receives 655 EXP and 76 GP
BlackandBlueEyes receives 957 EXP and 76 GP
Sulla receives 554 EXP and 76 GP

EXP & GP Added!