Try the Priest

The House of Cards, Red Forest, Raiaera


It had been a while since the scholar had been on a mission, his last being a recruitment of an assassin by the name of Joseph. The whole escapade had been...interesting. Bored out of his skull Vincent had decided to mix things up, adopting the name Pirelli and acting quite the maniac as he taunted the assassin he had called on his own life. Somehow it had managed to work, and the young killer had agreed to join the scholar and return to the base.


Moving him in wasn't very hard, the man had lived a very nomadic lifestyle peddling his wares as he went. He simply hawked his wares as they traveled and by the time they had landed in Raiaera the merchants pockets were loaded with more coin than he knew what to do with. The trip through Raiaera was difficult however, filled with roving undead and bandits the two did not have it easy. When they reached the edge of the forest Vincent had to pull out documentation to show that he was cleared into the forest, and then the two sprinted to the clearing that housed their base.


Joseph has found himself a room and moved in quickly and had begun what Vince called the “Period of Seclusion,” where new recruits withdrew to their rooms except for bathing and eating. Vincent had spent several months locked away in the library studying when he had first moved in. He would have left the man to his own devices, however the most destructive force in Vincent’s life walked into his “Nest” while he was taking a nap.


“Vincent…” she cooed softly as she strode across the room, expertly stepping over books strewn around the room. “Wake up sunshine,” she continued as she arrived to his chair. Vincent replied with a light snore indicating he was still asleep and had in fact not heard her. Growling the seeress grasped the back of the chair he was sitting in and flung it to the ground taking the scholar with it.


“Fuck!” Vincent growled as he sprung to his feet almost instantly. He took ten seconds to gauge his surroundings before his eyes set on Leona. “What the fuck boss!” he growled running a hand through his messy mane of blonde hair.


“I tried being nice but you didn't wake up!” she replied shrugging.


“You couldn't have just shake my shoulder or something?” the scholar inquired cocking his head to one side slightly.


“Do I look like I want you to get turned into a pie?” she replied glaring at him.


“Pie...Wh-” Vincent stopped himself before he asked the question. “What do you need boss?”


“Well Vincent, I need you to take our new operative out on a field te

At the bottom of an unassuming trap door in the forest lay a quite impressive complex of rooms and hallways that apparently belonged to the ‘Tarot Heirarchy’, a group of which he was also apparently a member. He’d chosen a room directly to the left of the ladder down because it was bigger and closer to the exit. It was odd being underground, he thought, after spending so many nights travelling with open sky above him. It was a tad unnerving, but he pushed his anxiety to the back of his mind as he busied himself with unpacking. First he set a few candles about the place, one on the nightstand next to the bed, the other on the dresser in the opposite corner, shedding weak light on the stone walls of the room. He then began to dust with a damp rag, and shook off the bedsheets, setting his varied styles of clothing in the dresser. The pack on his bag held his more necessary items, including his daggers, a mask, a few rations, and his pipe. He set these in the chest of drawers, and wondered if it was big enough to put a small table in.

The menial chores stirred a hunger in him, so he walked to where Vince had said the mess hall was to eat his ration, which was composed of bread, cheese, and salted beef. Joseph tried to purchase quality foods when he had to make a journey, as a delicious ration was worth the extra coin, he thought. Even after their several days of travelling, the bread was only slightly stale, and still had moisture in it, and the cheese was still good and soft. He smiled as he ate. The whole situation had been strange, but Joseph’s pockets were heavier and his stomach fuller than they had both been in a while, so even though it was shady, he was willing to stay for now. Finished eating, he walked back to his room, counting it a bit strange that he hadn’t seen anyone but Vince in the compound, even though he was the ‘new recruit’ and he had been there some hours.

He walked back to his room, finding the door open, which he did not do, and a wad of cotton sitting atop a letter on his nightstand, which he also did not place. He smirked, half annoyed and half amused, like hearing a joke that’s good, but worn out a bit. He sighed and picked up the letter. It read:

Hey, meet me in the library, I got somebody that needs killin’

He presumed it was Vince, since the library doubled as his lodgings. He walked down dim halls to the large door to the library and opened, seeing books strewn about like so much trash all over the floor and every other horizontal surface that wasn’t the bed. Vince sat in a chair at a desk at the far end of the room, though there was a new face Joseph hadn’t seen. She sat on the top of the desk, long blonde hair framing pleasantly angular features. She wore a tank top and shorts over an athletic build, and looked at Joseph as if to be sizing him up. He held the letter up a bit.

“So, we’re killing somebody?”

As if waiting for a cue, Vince hopped out of the chair, approaching him and snatching the letter out of his hand with flair.
“Yep! Bring your A-game, cause it’s gonna be a doozy!” he said, walking out of the room. Joseph turned his gaze back to the woman.

“I suppose you’re with him? I’m-”

“Joseph, I know,” She said quickly. “And I’m not with him so much as I’m his boss. You’d better run along, though, you and Vince have killing to do,” She finished, smirking. Vince popped his head back in the door as she stood, walking briskly past him into the hallway beyond without another word.

Vince watched her leave, then turned to Joseph. “You coming or what? They aren’t going to off themselves, you know.” Joseph turned, slightly aggravated at her, but it faded as he walked away with Vincent

Beinost was their destination, no more than a days ride on borrowed horses from the outskirts of the Red Forest. As the two rode into the nearly abandoned town at nightfall Vincent began to brief him. “Rumor has it that about three months ago people began disappearing from here. The population is already pretty low, so any people suddenly vanishing sends off a bunch of red flags.” he dismounted his horse as they rode up to an inn painted entirely blue with a sign over it reading Ace in the sleeve.

The two walked inside to a surprisingly lavish upscale bar. Everyone that hadn't seen seemed to be gathered around, huddled to tables and the bar. A bard timidly strummed at his lute as he sung a few nervous songs. The only person who didn't seem to be all doom and gloom was the bartender who worked quickly filling drinks and humming a merry little tune.

“Hey Anvil!” Vincent exclaimed waving hurridly. The dwart looked up from his work and glanced at the scholar for a moment.

“My god Vincent...did you manage to loose MORE weight?” the dwarf asked as he slammed down a drink in front of a glum patron. “Hrogma’s fleshy fun bridge how the living hell did you manage that?” he gestured to two open spots at the bar and Joseph and Vince each took a seat. “What’ll it be?” he asked glaring at Vince. “You better not say a salad or so help me scholar…” he glare quickly turned into a goofy grin as he slapped the scholar on the shoulder laughing.

“I will take an ale and Cotton Eye Joe will have…?” he paused and turned to the merchant.

“I’ll take mead sir.” Joesph replied nodding.

The dwarf took a moment to examine the young merchant next to Vincent as he poured their drinks. “Cotton Eye Joe? How does one get a name like that?”

“It’s a long story.” Joesph replied nudging his partner in crime. “One this madman won’t ever let me live down it seems.”

Vincent chuckled as Anvil set their drinks down in front of him. “Anyways Joe, we need to find the cause of the disappearances and put an end to them.”

Joseph was surprised at the extravagance of the bar, and if it weren’t for the happy dwarf busily filling tankards, the place would have felt cold and distant. The feeling of elegance that the bar might’ve emitted was lost, though, as men huddled, cowering in their drinks as people disappeared in the night. It bothered Joseph little, considering that he was usually the one doing the taking and the killing. Though in contrast, it was almost pleasing to know that he had put this fear into once-brave men. It put a bit of a smirk on his face as he responded to Vince, asking for mead, which he received in short order as he reached into his pants and pulled out his pipe, stuffing it with a rather excellent variety of tobacco he’d found in Alerar, it produced an almost cherry-like scent when smoked. He turned to Vince.

“I presume that I’m going to be killing the killer?” he asked as he took a sip of his mead, turning his back on the bar, leaning against it. The mead was excellent, or perhaps Joseph just had low standards for his drink. Either way, it tastes good, he thought as he lit his pipe with a match. He turned to the dwarf, who had just walked back with a recently-emptied pitcher.

“So, how many people have gone missing, and where were they taken from?” Most likely they were taken close to where they were held or killed. Bodies are hard to carry, no matter how big you are.

Anvil rubbed his large, elegant beard as he thought. “Well lessee, Baldo and Ray and…” he began to list off several names under his breath gazing at the ceiling. “I’d say...thirty that I know…” he frowned. “As for where I couldn’t say. When though, three months ago maybe more? We just had a bunch or refugees come from Corone. I reckon one of them is behind it…”

“Hmm,” Joseph mused as he placed his thumb in his mouth, blowing a large smoke ring, sending another, smaller one through it as it rose toward the high ceiling. Thirty people? Joseph had trouble disposing of one body from time to time. The plains around the town also didn’t seem conducive to transporting bodies, So they had to be somewhere close to the town. “Any large buildings? places where they could be stored? He can’t be burying them, or we’d notice, and he can’t be storing them close to people, or we’d smell it.”

Anvil shrugged “Shit I’ve been here for years and I haven’t seen half the buildings in the surrounding streets. In Beinost you don’t tend to wander, lots of...bad juju in this town. I think someone carrying a body would be easy to notice though, too many people watching out for necromancers.”

Joseph blew another smoke ring, taking a sip of mead as it caught a stray current of air and dissipated. Necromancers, eh? He shot a sideways glare at Vince. Joseph did not like dealing with the undead. “Seems we have a conundrum, eh? Men and women disappear, and no one’s the wiser.”

Vincent piped in suddenly. “Say...there aren’t any new...pie shops around are there?”

Anvil scratched his head, looking at the countertop. “Hmm, Now that you mention it, there was a guy set up shop down the road a ways, Toby, they call ‘im,” He paused, meeting Vince’s eyes. “odd fella I hear, though he bakes a mean meat pie. Or so I’ve heard, anyways, haven’t found myself down there lately.”

“Of fucking course…” Vincent grumbles. “Pie.”

Joseph drank more of his mead, glancing back to the secluded patrons of the bar, some of whom had taken a keen interest in them. “Of course, pies, I should have known to expect the goddamn pastry chef of serial murder,” he said, throwing another smoke ring, this one fainter as he was moving to the bottom of the bowl. Though the unnerving, persistent thought in his mind that it did explain the complete and total disappearance of more than thirty bodies nagged at him, he pushed it away.

Suddenly the Seer’s earlier remark was beginning to make sense. Vincent didn’t open his mouth again as Joseph continued to question the barkeep. People were on edge, and the last thing he needed was to accidentally spark a lynch mob on a potentially innocent bystander. When the two finished their exchange Vincent ran a worried hand through his hair and sighed. “Anvil could you prepare the master suite for my friend and I tonight? I don’t think staying anywhere else is particularly wise…” the scholar muttered tiredly. “Also what are you specials for food tonight? I haven’t eaten in a few days…”

The last comment sparked the dwarf’s ire. “EXCUSE ME! DAYS! YOU’RE ALREADY SKINNY ENOUGH YOU BAG O’ BONES!” he slammed down the jug in his hands and went into a door behind him with a string of swears and other vulgarities. Several pots and pans could be heard banging, as if the man was forging a meal for the two instead of cooking one. Finally after a few moments the barkeeper stormed out with a steaming plate of meats and breads. “Ye have till the the count of twenty to wolf this down before I smack ye upside the goddamn head for being a moron. Hierophant? More like Fool!” he growled slamming it down. “What good would you be to the Hierarchy is you starved yourself to death?”

Vincent sighed. His plan for quick food had backfired into another one of the half mans lectures on eating properly. He quickly tucked into the food, offering some to his companion as he devoured the food hastily to calm the angry dwarf. By the time the two had finished they retired up to the master suite, a large room with three beds and an adjoining bathroom.

“The hell…” Joseph muttered.

“Before we found the House of Cards Leona and Alyssa stayed here.” Vincent explained as he plopped down on one of the beds. “Get some sleep, tomorrow we have a big day.”

Joseph woke before dawn, as was his custom; he was a merchant after all; and rolled out of bed quietly so not to disturb his Vincent, who was snoring lightly in the bed beside him. It was still two hours until dawn by his reckoning, and he aimed to use the time wisely. He lit a candle and Vincent turned, still dozing, as Joseph opened his small trunk that he had brought. Vincent had poked fun at him for it, but if he was going to kill, he needed to be able to get away and blend in with the people around. He selected a pair of brown breeches roughly the same size as he saw in the tavern and a white tunic, short sleeved. He then set about his other dressings, namely cheap black cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt, also black, and loose enough to slip easily over his clothes. He sheathed his daggers on his belt under his pants and grabbed a full face mask for his face of the same color. The window offered the most effective means of egress, leading up to a rooftop and from there to anywhere in the town. It was larger than the amount of people in it, he noticed. Maybe it was all the ‘bad juju’. Either way it was good for him, as he didn’t need to worry so much about being seen. He opened the window, which thankfully didn’t squeak as he did so, and climbed on to the railing. Cool not-quite-twilight air rustled his hair as he closed the window behind him and looked south, towards where the mysterious pie shop was. Vincent hadn’t told him much, but it seemed that he suspected something, which was at least worth looking in to before they killed him; if indeed it even was him. Joseph looked around for dark corners and connecting alleyways. Finding one, he ran smoothly and quietly along the roof of the tavern, leaping on to an adjacent roof and climbing down into the alleyway. Tall stone buildings bordered the narrow passageway, perfect for sneaking. He jogged southwards, the cobbled stone muffling his footsteps, until he’d gone two miles, roughly the distance to the shop.

Joseph climbed the wall beside him, using window ledges and exposed lamp bars to pull himself up until he was above the main street. It was devoid of all people as far as he could tell in the darkness. A light fog had settled since his departure, giving the street an eerily mysterious look as a figure emerged from the fog slowly. He, or she, was tall and lanky, with an odd gait. Joseph crouched down beside a smoke-blackened chimney-pipe, effectively making himself invisible as the figure grew closer and more defined. It was a man, pale, with long frazzled black hair combed back. Sharp features and a sharper nose protruded from his face as he turned into the pie shop casually, pulling a key from a hidden pocket and unlocking the door. He entered, and if not for his odd appearance, Joseph would have discounted any suspicion that Vince had of him. Though, after he closed the door, Joseph saw a low red glow from below the door frame. It lasted for about five seconds, then faded. He waited a while, but the glow never reappeared. He would have stayed longer, but dawn seemed to be approaching, and he decided to pull back to their lodgings. Hopefully Vince was awake, and if he was lucky, Anvil would be shoving breakfast down his throat and he’d eat free. He climbed down, then took the clothes and mask off in the alleyway, stashing them in the small pack he brought; then walked between two of the buildings. He emerged to the main street just as a few shutters were opening and the town was waking up. Joseph whistled a merry tune as he walked back to the inn, his mind a bit troubled about the events before morning.

As Joseph walked into the bar the scholar was indeed scarfing down a large mountain of eggs and toast. The dwarf was the first to notice the assasin walk in. “Oi Cotton Eye!” he grunted waving a mug in the air. “Glad ye could join us! What can I get for you? Friends of the house don’t pay coin here so don’t concern yerself ‘bout price.”

The merchant took a seat next to the slovenly scholar as his ate. “I’ll have what he’s having.” He muttered glancing at his companion. Vincent had yet to even acknowledge the killer, more dead set on proving he could put a shopvac to shame by sucking down his food.

“Calm down there Pirelli,” the assassin chided tapping the scholar on the shoulder. “People don’t start buying your piss until they’re drunk anyways. There’s no rush at all.” The scholar paused and let out a rather large belch before wiping his mouth and turning to face his companion.

“Very funny, trying to turn my cotton joke by using my snake oil salesman alias from when we first met. But the jokes on you!” he muttered pulling out a thread of cotton. “I have proof of your stupidity...using salvarian cotton as a fence name…” he chuckled for a moment before turning back to his friend. “Let me guess, tall, slender, goofy dark looking hair…” he trailed away as he looked to see the shocked expression on Joseph’s face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

Joseph was truly surprised that his slender companion had managed to get eyes on their mark before he had. Goddamned magic, be the death of me it will, he thought as a plate clunked on the darkwood bar in front of him, full of steaming eggs and a few links of sausage. “How in the hell did you see him?” he asked as he grabbed a fork offered him by Anvil, taking a bite of the fluffy eggs as he did so. They were excellent, it seemed Anvil knew his way around a kitchen.

“Excellent guess,” Vincent replied frowning. “I’ve seen a...similar situation from where I hail…”

Well, aren’t we dark and mysterious, Joseph thought, shooting a sideways glance at Vince as the scholar was handed, nay, shoved, another plate of breakfast.

By the time they had finished eating, dawn had fully broken; and they both set out in the streets of Beinost. Vince had left his jacket, at the behest of Joseph, in favor of more rural clothing made to sell the idea that they were local folk. Though the town was empty and devoid of life at night, the main street hummed with moderate activity as they walked down the street in the direction of the mysterious pie shop.

“So,” Joseph asked, “What was this similar situation? Do you think it’s the same person?”

Vince looked a bit out of place, but Joseph doubted any of the other yokels would know what to look for; the hastened step, and darting eyes of a suspicious man. But then again, there weren't many in town who weren't suspicious themselves, according to Anvil.

Vince paused for a moment, “I highly doubt it’s the same man but…” Vincent paused. “Let me go ahead and let you know this know, I’m from another world known as Earth.” he paused to let that info sink in and then began again. “In my world we have a...play. It’s called Sweeney Todd, or in some cases the demon barber of Fleet Street. In it a man and his...lover?” he paused for a moment thinking to story in his head. “They would kill people and bake them into pies. Leona knew I would get the reference when she gave us this assignment…”


Joseph turned the words over in his mind as he led the two of them to a lamppost, Joseph leaning on it casually, despite the situation. They stood about fifty yards from the pie shop across the street from it.

Fucking magicians and all of their nonsense, He thought as Vince said things about being from another world. Likely? No. Possible? Well, I suppose anything’s possible these days. Vince’s comment about pies tossed him from his musings.

“Wait, like meat pies filled with people?” He asked Vince, forcing himself to maintain normal tonality and posture as well as facial expression. It had taken a long time, but he could just about perfectly mimic any emotion, or mask any of them. Goddamn cannibals, all of ‘em, he thought as a group of four left the pie shop. And they don’t even know it.

“Yes, meat pies with people. The play was some silly analogy on how it’s a dog eat dog society or some shit. Catchy songs though, also the basis for my Pirelli persona I took on when messing with you.” Vincent was doing a good job masking his disgust, “All we need to do is ask him a few questions about things. I can tell if the fucker is lying. If I can get the truth from his words we can come back in later when he’s hunting and get the drop on him…”

Joseph had always been a straightforward man when it came to killing, he liked things to be quick and professional. “Well, what do you need to know? The man makes pies out of people, for god’s sake. We walk in, you lock the door behind you, I knife him in the throat, and we walk out.”

“We need to make sure we don’t bag a Red Herring Joe, for all we know Leona is fucking with us.” Vince replied sighing. “I literally cannot be lied to, just let me ask him a few things and if I say we should Try the Priest you stab his ass.”

Joseph relented. “You’re the one with the money, Vince. But if he makes a move I’ll put a dagger through his eye, priest or not.” A group of people walked into the pie shop. It would delay their entry as long as there were any patrons nearby. A man carrying a basket walked past him, bumping Joseph and muttering an apology. Joseph smirked at Vince, pulling two apples he’d pilfered from the basket, handing him one. “Can’t do this on an empty stomach now, can we?”

“No, we can’t” Vince muttered taking a bite. “Good thinking.”

The two munched down their apples in silence as they thought over their plans. This was a very risky operation, one wrong move and they could find themselves hanging on a meathook is some sinister monsters lair. After they finished their light and delicious snack the two headed inside and were greeted by a surprisingly warm and welcome shop. The wooden floors had been polished recently, still shining bright despite the heavy traffic they seemed to bear. Several tables seemed to be scattered about, all filled with jolly patrons with full cups and smiles.

A buxom red headed woman scampered over to them, tray of delicious smelling pies in hand. “Welcome to Sweet Tobes, My name is Lovelace, how can I help you?” she asked cocking her head to one side and giving them a sickening sweet smile.

“Hello.” Vincent said smiling. “We’re looking for Tobias?” he asked curiously.

She frowned a bit, “Tobias? What for? I’m the one who sells the pies. He just bakes them!”

“I have a...business proposition for him.” Vincent paused frowning. “Is he around?” he asked glancing around.

“He’s...down in the basement. I’m his partner though! What did you have in mind?” she asked resuming her sickening sweet smile.

“I wanted to open up another Sweet Tobes in Corone.” he replied cooly. “It’s this iteresting idea where you piggyback off of each other's fame and use it to reach a wider audience. I call it a franchise…” Vincent smiled to match her. “Could I perhaps talk to you about how you make your pies?” her smile faltered for a split second as he mentioned the word pies.

“Why of course!” she lied setting down her tray on a nearby table. “Why don’t we talk in the back?” she said as she sashayed over to a far oak door and undid the hatch, wiggling her butt at them slightly. When she was out of earshot Vincent turned to Joseph. “She’s in on this too, don’t blow our cover but I feel like she’s going to try and stab us in the back. If she does kill her quickly and find mister Tobias, I will search the shop for other cronies and take care of them. Clear?”

Joseph slipped a knife from his holster, hiding it in his right sleeve as they walked across the street and into the shop. Immediately Joseph smelled the pies. It disturbed him greatly that they smelled appetizing, but it did not break his forged demeanor as he sat with Vince and he did the talking. His feigned intentions soon had them walking towards the back of the shop, presumably where the pies were being made, and where their mad butcher was. Vince turned, whispering as she unlocked the door. He was to kill the woman if she did anything, and then move downstairs to deal with the murderer. Joseph nodded as the woman turned, seeing Vince whispering. She placed a hand on her hip.

“Well? You coming or not?” she asked playfully, a coy smile plastered across what was obvious to Joseph as a con. They both offered up convincing smiles as Joseph clapped Vince on the shoulder, speaking confidently to her.

“Just discussing the plan, miss; wouldn’t do to negotiate without a proper plan,” He lied easily, walking past Vince to follow her through the door. She swayed into a dark room which smelled even more of pies than the common dining room; it held sacks of flour and other necessities for baking. Two doors led from where they entered, one to the left and one on the opposite side of the small room. Joseph heard the lock click behind him and immediately swung his dagger up, pulling her shoulder around so that she faced him. He planted the dagger at the upper part of her throat as she reeled back and Joseph followed until she was pressed back against the sacks of flour.

“Scream and you die, where is the butcher?” he asked firmly. She drew a sharp breath to scream, and Joseph plunged the dagger’s tip into her windpipe, severing her vocal chords and filling her throat with blood. A soft gurgling sound escaped her lips as she tried to scream, then tried to breathe as her blood dripped from her throat to the sacks, staining them and his dagger red. It was possible she wasn’t going to scream, but the chance was too great; and it was more likely that the murderer was in the building than not. He looked over to Vince just in time to see the side door open, revealing a man carrying a tray of those damnable pies.

Vince spun next to Joseph, pulling his cane up to gain the reach he needed to strike before the man could sound any alarm. The bulb of the cane connected with his temple, and a sickening crunch sounded as it caved in his skull and the man dropped onto the human meat pies, dead before he hit the ground. Vince looked back and nodded, moving through the opened side door, leaving Joseph to the other door, which hopefully led to his mark. He wiped his dagger on the sacks of flour. Thinking quickly, he dusted his hands and hair with flour and grabbed one of the nearby sacks not stained with blood, whistling as he heaved it to one shoulder and opened the door, which led to stairs going down to the basement. Hopefully he'd be able to pass as a laborer or delivery boy.

His whistling trailed off as he heard another whistle, quite good actually, singing a merry tune. He slowly and silently crept down the stairs until they opened into a cellar which stank of blood heavily. He immediately recognized the man at the center of the piles of various body parts. Arms and legs hung along one wall on hooks, while a large grinder stood at the other end, with a shelf containing bloody bones and other viscera. The butcher himself stood at a table in the center of the room, carving and whistling happily to himself. Joseph nearly retched at the smell, dropping the sack of flour and drawing his daggers. Sent by a madman to kill a madman, he thought as his mark turned, seeing Joseph on his toes with both daggers drawn. He smiled, perhaps a little too giddily.

“Another come to shut me down, eh?” He asked, pulling a butcher’s knife from the block beside him to complement the bloody cleaver he was already holding in his right hand. “Well, come on then! It’s a dog eat dog world out there, let’s see who comes out on top!”

Joseph doubted that the butcher’s skill with knives was superior to his own, but he seemed adept enough to take advantage of any mistakes he made. Toby held the blades well, and seemed to know how to swing them. Joseph smirked a little, feeling his adrenaline surge. He stepped forward, forearms covered in blood, and swung with the cleaver. Joseph couldn’t block such a heavy blade, and instead stepped back, lunging forward with a stab as the butcher recovered. He was quick though, and deflected the blade with the broad butcher’s knife, pulling his leg up as he did, sweeping a kick in his direction.

Joseph hadn’t expected him to use his legs, and grunted as the blow caught him just above his hip. The butcher quickly followed with a slash of the cleaver again, which Joseph barely managed to drop the dagger in his left hand and catch his wrist. The cleaver Toby had been holding clattered to the ground, the blade too heavy to remain in the butcher’s hand after a sudden block. Joseph twisted his wrist, forcing Toby’s arm into an awkward position and kicked his knee, hearing a grunt as the butcher stumbled away, favoring his leg slightly. Joseph circled around him slowly, waiting for a move. Joseph smiled a little wider as he moved closer, and the butcher backed away, limping heavily.

Joseph moved closer again, swinging at the butcher in a wide arc. To his surprise, Toby stepped inside his swing, no longer favoring the leg and caught his wrist as it came down. He faked it! His mind raced as he barely caught the butcher’s own sideways swing towards his chest. Fuck! How can I be this stupid? Joseph thought frantically as he tried to force his blade down onto Toby. After several seconds of grunting from both of them, The crazed butcher yelled.

“Now you see, my friend! We are all animals, reduced to our base instincts at the slightest provocation,” Toby smiled broadly as his blade grew closer to Joseph's ribcage. Joseph thought of something dangerous and stupid, but the only thought he could form in those few seconds.

Joseph let go of his dagger, letting it fall as he released the butcher’s wrist, knowing the now-free blade would strike him, but he hoped to strike a bit truer. He caught the blade By the hilt with his other hand that was blocking Toby’s blow, and drove it up into his chest under his ribcage, feeling it pierce his heart as the butcher's knife pierced him.

Pain exploded from his side as he felt it strike one of his ribs and glance downward, Toby losing strength as his eyes grew wide. Joseph hissed as Toby collapsed forward, falling on top of him. They both fell back on to the cold stone of the basement, Toby’s body pinning Joseph’s arm between them as the blade in his side dug further in. He rolled the body off of himself with his good arm and turned over on his knees, elbows supporting his torso as he coughed up blood. He knew not to remove the blade, but maybe he could make it up the stairs before he lost too much blood. It was already dripping down, mingling with the blood of the others Toby had butchered as he crawled to the stairs, slowly ascending.

As Joseph went below to hunt down the killer, Vincent entered the room the man he had just killed had entered from. His silver eyes quickly scanned his surroundings as he entered, finding nothing but a large table that seemed to have been used for assembling pies for the oven. To his left a set of stairs went upstairs and his right was another door. The scholar strode across the room and kicked open the door to find a sleeping grunt on...the toilet. The bearded man jerked awake and found the scholar stabbing his blade through his throat. He let out a gurgle and spasmed, spitting up blood as the thrashed.

The scholar wiped his blade clean on the man’s shirt and then ascended the stairs which he found led to the attic. He paused as he glanced around at chest after chest, frowning he kicked one open to find a pile of...bones. “Fuck me…” he growled as he descended. The bakery seemed to be clear of goons, and he decided to head into the basement to assist his comrade.

He opened to door and found Joseph unconscious and bleeding on the stairs. “Well then,” he muttered bending over to pick the bleeding assassin up. “Let’s gets you back to Anvil so he can stitch you up…” he muttered as he glanced over the dead butcher. “Good first kill though, exactly as Leona said it would go…”

Joseph woke slowly, feeling first the mattress beneath him, then the ache in his side, then the piercing pain above it, signs that he was at least alive. He opened his eyes, attempting to sit up, and pain exploded from his ribs, causing him to gasp, which only made it worse. He turned painfully until his bare feet touched cool wood floor panels, and reached his left hand across to feel a bandage covering the wound Toby had given him. He stood, feeling the bruise from the butcher’s kick more than the torn flesh under the bandage as he breathed. He stood up, hunched over to his right so as to not stretch his ribs and looked around for the rest of his clothes, noticing that he had nothing on, save his knee-length breeches. He put a shirt on, painfully, and shuffled to the stairs. It wasn’t the closest he’d ever come to dying, but the pain in his side, coupled with the number of people Toby had killed before him, told him it was damn close.

He walked out the door, slowly taking more normal steps as his initial soreness wore off, yielding more of an ache in it’s place and a sharp stinging if he turned his torso. There was a commotion going on that grew louder as he descended the stairs, and opened the door that was behind the bar of Anvil’s tavern. The door opened to reveal a chorus of shouts for refills and calls for new flagons of so many patrons that Joseph could scarcely believe that there were that many people in the town at all. Anvil was busy walking to and fro with a large pitcher full of what he assumed to be beer. He glanced Joseph’s way and did a double-take, then swiftly coming back to the bar.

“Good to see ya well, lad!” he exclaimed, thankfully clapping Joseph on his good shoulder, setting the sizable pitcher under a spigot. “Vince was worried for ye something fierce, I’ll tell ya that! Though ever since ye killed that mad piemaker, business has been booming!” he had to yell over the crowd. “He’s over there.” He gestured with the pitcher toward the far end of the bar where Vince had just laid down a whole cooked chicken.

Among the foodstuffs being consumed, nearly all were whole animals of some kind, mostly chickens. Seems people want to know what they’re eating now, I suppose; Joseph thought as Vince walked back to the bar. He set down his tray, grabbing his cane from the shelf under the bar. "We stitched you up as best we could. You think you can travel? I think if Anvil feeds me again I'll break my horse's back when we leave," He said as Joseph chuckled, wincing as he did so. Though they'd only been there a day and a half, and he'd seen Vince eat more than any human ought to have a right to.

Anvil spun round, brandishing a mug of ale at Vince. “And yer lucky I don’t make ye stay another day or two and stuff you fuller than you are!” He muttered to himself as he waded into the crowd again, something about holding Vince’s mouth open and dumping things in. Vince turned again to Joseph expectantly.

“I think I’m well enough,” Joseph said, straightening a bit as if to prove his point. “To be honest, I’d like this whole town behind me, and the sooner the better.”

“That’s the spirit,” Vince said, smirking. He turned and opened the door to the upstairs part of the inn. “Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

The two had traveled light to Beinost, and their bags were packed and ready to go within a half hour. Most of it was Vincent wandering around making sure he hadn’t left anything anywhere, constantly patting down his purple cloak’s various pockets absentmindedly. When both of their bags were packed the scholar guided his injured companion down to the stables where he helped him up into the saddle.

“Careful,” he chided frowning slightly. “That butcher got you pretty good, if you’re not feeling well while we’re on the road we’ll stop and take a break.” Joseph smiled and nodded as he watched the scholar scramble up onto his gray colt and urged them forward. The ride through town was a loud one, the tense air that had hung over the town seemed to have been banished by the twos actions. People were out and about celebrating the death of the butcher, and the lives of the fallen. There was no time to mourn, only to honor and move forward. Beinost was tired of looking back at it’s past. It was time for it to strive forward and build a new name for itself.

As they exited the town the scholar paused for a moment. “I almost forgot!” he muttered slapping his forehead. “Your reward!” he fished through his coat for a moment and tossed the assassin a large purse. “For services rendered to the Hierarchy.” he said doing a mock bow from his saddle. “I also have something else for you…” this time he reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a large sheathed meat cleaver.

“This had been Toby’s, but I figured it would be better used in your hands. Never know when you might need to hack someone apart.” he grinned as he passed the blade to the rider next to him. Joseph took a moment to unsheath the blade and look it over.

“This is fine steel.” he murmured as he traced the edge with his finger. It was still slightly stained red from the blood of his victims, and something told Joseph that it was there to stay, a constant reminder of the atrocities of the previous owner.

“You know Joseph, Death isn’t always a bad thing my friend.” Vince mused aloud. “Sometimes you get people like Tobias, who wantonly slay the innocent to slate their lust or desires. But then you get people like us, who dispense death to those unworthy of air they breath. Sometimes it’s what the world needs…” he chuckled. “I digress, lets get home and I’ll show you to the best hotsprings you’ll ever encounter. It should be just what the doctor ordered for your injury…”

Hello! I apologize for the delay in getting your judgement to you. I appreciate your patience and understanding!

Thread Title: Try the Priest
Judgment Type:Condensed
Participants: Cards of Fate, redrout

Plot: 13/30

Overall, this was an easy, entertaining read. At Leona’s request, Vincent joined up with the newest member of the Tarot to investigate mysterious disappearances in a small town. The pair did a bit of reconnaissance work with the help of a very likable barkeep. The story climaxed with a thrilling fight, and then was tied up nicely with recovery and the start of the journey home. It is clear to me that you are both very capable of crafting a creative and interesting tale.

With that being said, there were some areas that I felt were lacking. While I was absolutely entertained, I was far from immersed in the story. Opportunities to utilize rich description were missed, robbing the reader of the chance to really experience the story alongside your characters. The setting can also be used to make a story come to life, but it is not enough to merely state it at the beginning of the scene. Constant references back to the setting throughout each post will keep a character’s surroundings from becoming an unchanging canvas. This will also help you avoid list-like writing, in which the character’s actions are listed without enough depth or description; a few posts resorted back to this, especially in the beginning. I can see where Redrout made an effort to counter this, but “show, don’t tell” is a theme that both of you can work to improve on.

Finally, there were a few pacing problems that affected the clarity and overall presentation of your story. Though introductions and scene-setting is important, I felt that the beginning dragged. Emphasis on the bits of action that were present would have helped this (for example, the flipping of Vincent’s chair, the meal that Joseph consumed, etc.). The actual investigation and scheming portion felt rushed. This was a fun ride, but paying close attention to setting and pacing will really improve the reader’s experience.

Character: 18/30

Without a doubt, this area was your strongest. The interactions you incorporated were realistic, and your characters’ decisions made sense.

This was definitely a side of Vincent that I had never seen before. Who knew that the timid, awkward scholar would be so at ease planning an assassination? What I liked best about this thread was the way you adopted this persona without going overboard. Vincent has definitely evolved, but he was far from slashing throats and laughing maniacally. He showed restraint, deciding against taking on the room filled with thugs, and even playing a support role at the end. I did find his murder of the sleeping man on the toilet a bit out of character, but for the most part, you did a nice job of portraying Vincent as a seasoned adventurer who will do whatever Leona asks of him.

I was really impressed by Joseph in this thread. From the beginning, I was given the image of a capable, quirky man who felt a bit uneasy about working with someone else. I especially loved the way you portrayed his hesitation through your writing: “...a quite impressive complex of rooms and hallways that apparently belonged to the ‘Tarot Hierarchy,’ a group of which he was also apparently a member.” One thing I would have liked to have seen from him was a bit more backstory. I know nothing about Joseph except for the short introduction you provided in your first post. A few references to past experiences, which are easy enough to do in character thoughts, would help me feel like I know him a bit better. You portray him as a hardened assassin through his detective work and his combat skills, but you also leave space for reactions that make him more relatable. His surprise and disappointment when Vincent solved the case before he did was spot on, and the blows that he took during his fight made him a more believable character. Well done!

The NPCs in this story were really great. Each had their own unique personalities, and each played an important role in the story. The thought you put into these characters was apparent, especially with Anvil and Tobias. You did a really nice job working in Anvil’s background; I always appreciate a good nod to a past story. I am also very impressed by how formidable an opponent you made Tobias. After making it clear that there had been many a failed attempt on his life, it only made sense for him to go down swinging.

Prose: 12/30

This area was your weakest. Basic mechanics issues included typos, missing and incorrect punctuation, tense changes, and wrong words. I found at least one error of this nature in every post. Things like this are easily caught and corrected with a bit of proofreading before submitting the thread for judging. Had you read over your thread at least once, I am sure that you would have noticed the first post was actually incomplete, probably a mistake when copy/pasting. These issues impacted clarity and the overall experience, as I had to reread numerous times. I would also encourage you to read your posts aloud to yourselves. This will help you locate and correct clunky and run-on sentences. Clarity also suffered a bit due to inconsistent italicization of character thoughts. I mostly saw this issue within Redrout’s posts. In these instances, I struggled to determine if I was still reading Joseph’s thoughts, or if the style had suddenly switched to first-person. In regards to technique, there was nothing that really stood out to me. Though you told an excellent story, the writing itself was fairly plain. Beyond this, both of you demonstrate an understanding of the English language, and I was able to read and understand the story despite its errors.

Wildcard: 5/10

Though I am not familiar with the story of Sweeney Todd, I do think that your use of it was very creative. I am not usually a fan of pop-culture references finding their way to Althanas, but you were able to do so in a way that was not too terribly jarring. A bit more background information on Sweeney Todd, and few more obvious parallels between the two stories would have resulted in a higher score. But I still commend you for your interesting approach.

Final Score: 48/100

Cards of Fate receives 625 EXP and 70 GP
redrout receives 425 EXP and 60 GP

EXP & GP Added!