AC 2021 Round One: Team Four

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Round one will begin at 6pm EST on 3rd December 2021.

Team 4

1. Christoph (C)
2. Rehtul Orlouge
3. Orphans
4. Flamebird

[Preston]

Challenges for Round 1:
Your group is heading to Alerar, making their way to these newly discovered ruins. The purpose is up to you, as well as how you interact with the environment (to include factions of the Alerar Guilds, Alerar Army, Tular Plains Demons, or Northern Alerar Dwarves). The following challenges are for use in the thread, and you must include at least one but can incorporate as much as you would like beyond that (it does reflect in the Wild Card and Story section)

Challenge 1: Interact with at least one faction, either as an ally or enemy - or create your own and that faction must interact with the others somehow
Challenge 2: Overcome one “political” obstacle
Challenge 3: Due to the hurried nature of everyone scrambling to get to the new discovery, your characters are not fully stocked/prepared in some way

[Christoph]

[[OOC Note: all bunnies between characters are approved]]

*

Bare feet upon the water’s surface, Elijah walked alone. Above spanned a sky of jagged mountains, engulfing the horizon with rows of rocky fangs. Deep, deep below the gently rippling waves, all the stars of heaven glittered. White feathers drifted in the breeze. One spot marred the ocean’s endless perfection, a half-submerged figure. Step by step, he made his way across the chill waters.

He blinked, and suddenly he was beside the stranger. The girl’s white hair and horns bobbed with the currents.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a distant echo. “You know you can just stand, right?” It seemed a sensible thing to say.

The horned girl tilted her head and met his eyes. “That’s sensible,” she said, placing her hands on the ocean’s surface to hoist herself up.

“What’s your name?”

“Sophia. I think.” She gazed past him to some far-off place. “Wait, no. Azza.”

“Azza…” He blinked again. Now, the white-haired girl stood hand in hand with two others. Horned and winged, they were identical to her, except insubstantial, somehow. Smaller and frailer, translucent.

“I was missing pieces,” she said, as though it explained everything.

Blink.

Now they ran across the waves hand in hand, Elijah and three Azzas. Wind howled through the mountainous sky, their rocky peaks spitting ash and smoke. Beneath the water, a dark shape hunted them, a spindly-limbed shadow over the stars. It surged forth, rushing beneath their feet.

“Hurry!” Elijah pulled harder on the girl’s hand.

The shadow burst from the waves! Writhing across the surface, it towered over them, a creature birthed from ink and smoke with a red pulsing heart. An eyeless face leered. Long claws flexed, dripping ichor. Elijah pushed the girls back and stepped forth to face the demon. Was he afraid? He couldn’t remember.

He cast his gaze to the starry night beneath the sea. The great constellations became clear. Reaching down as though to grasp them, he traced the ancient Sign of the Dragon. The demon slithered closer. He traced the sign again, eyes clamped shut with will bearing down upon the heavens like an anvil. The shadow raised its claws to strike.

A roar shook the earth above. The sea bubbled and roiled, blasting forth jets of steam. From the depths rose the Dragon, the head of a great wyrm forged of mist and starlight. Its jaws breathed white hot flames. The inky specter hissed, writhing as fire consumed it, black mist and ichor washed away in a maelstrom of steam.

Blink.

They stood alone atop the mirror sea, not a whisper to marr the silence, or a breeze to disturb the water. Azza, once three, was now one. She seemed… sturdier, more substantial in ways he couldn’t articulate.

“I promise,” said Elijah, feeling the waning grip of the dream, like sobering up after a night drinking. “I will find you when I wake up.”

They stood facing each other as moments trickled by. Why did they remain? He blinked again, and a fog cleared from his eyes. The girl facing him looked different, yet the same. White hair, horns, and wings, deep red eyes wide yet inscrutable. She was taller now, coming up to his chin.

Not just a dream, but a memory of one. The chef garb of his youth dissolved into motes of light, drifting away on the breeze. In its place appeared his familiar traveling clothes beneath a cloak of sea green scales and black feathers. The dreaming landscape of starry sea and skybound peaks remained, but Elijah remembered when he was.

“I did,” he said at last. A smile crept across his lips. “I did find you. It just took me twelve years.”

[orphans]

“Only twelve. Rather quick, no?” A cheeky grin spread across the horned girl’s lips as she faced Elijah, her mentor. Compared to his striking cloak of scales, she dressed more modestly in a simple tunic of blues and greens. Her long tan skirt seemed to root her in place, her feet nowhere to be found.

“Quick for elves, perhaps,” said Elijah with a chuckle. “Or silver-haired spirit girls.”

Looking over the dreamscape, Azza couldn’t help but snicker. “It’s good to know that you remember me in such a favorable light, though I remembered it a little differently.”

“Blame my subconscious. We could compare notes if you showed me yours.” He tapped her forehead. “I know there’s more in there than an empty field and a locked gate.”

Still grinning, she swatted away his hand. “I’m still cleaning in there. Give me another year?”

Elijah rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Since you’re here, how about some practice? Try setting this dreamscape right side up.”

“But I wanted breakfast. I’ve been stuck in your head all night!”

“Once we’re finished.”

Her grin faded to a frown, but in the end she let out a sigh and shrugged. “Fine, fine. I know the deal. Work first, food later.” Taking a deep breath, she clapped her hands together once, then twice. Upon the second clap, the entire world violently flipped. Mountains spun from the sky to the ground, and the two dreamers landed atop a rocky slope.

“What did--” Elijah’s eyes widened as the new sky rumbled. The ocean rained down in sheets, flooding the new valleys and thoroughly drenching the two of them. “That is not what I had in mind.” He picked some seaweed out of his ear. “But it works.”

She smiled wider than ever. “Can we have breakfast now?”

“I supposed, in a minute…” He trailed off as he turned his gaze to the fresh starry sky. “That’s quite a view.”

“I’ve noticed that your dreams always have stars. I didn’t figure you to be such a romantic to keep a private field of stars in your head.”

He scoffed. “I’m more a classicist than a romantic.”

“What?”

“A lesson for another time,” he said with a short laugh, his eyes still reflecting the stars. “These aren’t my private stars. The Òlosdor, or what the elves call the dreaming realm, is… how would you call it?” He paused, his hands making a searching gesture. “It’s adjacent to the Firmament. These are the very same stars you would see in the real night sky. In fact, they’re usually much clearer in dreams.”

“Usually?” Upon seeing her mentor’s furrowed brow, Azza craned her head back to stare up. She couldn’t help but hum in thought. Elijah had taught her all the stars and constellations, but she still mixed in the names she once knew. “They look different to me. Did I misplace a few or something?”

“I’m not sure.” He frowned, before waving his hand to dismiss the notion. “Breakfast, then.”

“Wait, but--” Before she could finish her sentence, Azza’s eyes snapped open.

The world was upside down… again. Her shoulder hurt and her neck felt awfully funny. She flailed her limbs about to escape the blanket tangled around her, before realizing that she had fallen halfway out of bed during the night, her legs propped up on the brass-framed with the rest of her on the floor. Her sheets and pillows were scattered all over the tile floor, along with an overturned lamp.

“What’s all this?” asked Elijah, standing over her and prodding her with his foot. He was already dressed. How? “Did you fight off a burglar in your sleep?”

“Maybe!” Her lips curled into a sheepish smile, though upside down it looked more like a scowl. “Pretty sure I won.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he replied with a snort, turning to head back downstairs. “Breakfast is ready, so hurry up. And try to practice some propriety. A less scrupulous mentor might get the wrong idea.”

Azza looked down -- or was it up? -- at herself, realizing that her brown robes had ridden up past her waist during her nighttime struggles. Rolling herself into a more modest sitting position took greater effort than she liked to admit, with half her body stiff and numb.

“Maybe if it wasn’t so hot and stuffy!” she called after him. “You’re lucky I wear anything to bed at all!”

=====================

Breakfast was by far the best part about her apprenticeship. Elijah used to be a chef -- a fact he found every excuse to bring up over their past year together. Today, he had set the table with fresh toasted rye bread, black currant jelly, and crispy bacon. Azza attacked the food with enthusiasm, while Elijah chewed with his customary restraint, smirking at her from across the table. Of course, the she ate would make any cook feel good about their skills.

Morning studies always came after breakfast. Usually, they would review incantations or constellations before moving on to what Elijah called “practical applications,” which often meant something got set on fire. Today was different. Her mentor sat her down with some dusty tomes, clean parchment, and pens to transcribe and study the old elven texts. This in itself wasn’t too strange, but by the next chime of the clock, she realized Elijah had vanished.

She looked around her stiflingly quiet surroundings. Bookshelves of dark wood lined the stone walls from floor to ceiling, stuffed with leather tomes, scrolls, and trinkets. Open books, inkpots, and loose parchments covered the surface of every desk and table. Spherical alchemy lamps hung from the ceiling, casting soft blue light over the scattered maps and star charts. The only empty spot was the chair at Elijah’s desk in the far corner.

’Odd,’ she thought. ’Did he fall into the outhouse?’ This seemed unlikely, especially after the incident with the boar crashing through a couple weeks ago, which had absolutely nothing to do with Azza chasing it. ’A prayer for brother boar, who became the bacon we ate for breakfast. You were brave and delicious.’

She set her books aside and stretched. Where had Elijah gone off to? ’He seemed distracted by the stars last night.’ Azza peered up the ladder leading to the top of the observatory.

[Christoph]

Deep in the black deserts of southern Alerar, atop a windswept basaltic mesa, stood a tower. Like a sword raised to the heavens, this edifice of polished granite and brass gleamed against the bleak wasteland. It was named the Malaethi Observatory. From the dome-shaped turret on its roof, astronomers could observe the stars, away from the light of dark elf cities. No respectable Guild member would take a posting so far from the capital’s politics and intrigue. Thus, the observatory came to be occupied by a foreign scholar and his student.

On the top floor, Elijah Belov poured over scattered star charts and open books beneath the light of alchemical lamps. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He’d been working since the pre-dawn hours, pausing just long enough for breakfast with Azza. She was good to have around, making sure he couldn’t skip meals like he used to. He felt guilty leaving her to study alone, but certain matters required his full attention.

The stars are wrong. After hours of research and cross-checking, he was certain of it. Astronomers had mapped the movement of the heavens for millennia. They followed predictable patterns, or at least, they were supposed to. The Torch of Radasanth and Hungir’s Anvil, two prominent constellations, had always rotated in tandem. Now, the Torch’s angle had skewed by two degrees, and its stars all shined a little too brightly. Never a good sign when the stars surprise you.

“You really love the stars, huh?” Azza’s silver-haired, horned head poked up through the trapdoor by his desk.

“Already bored with independent study?” He helped her up, before gesturing to his wall-spanning drawings of the night sky. “Hard not to find them fascinating. The firmament is the metaphysical reality of our world writ large onto the heavens.”

His student wrinkled her nose. “That’s just a fancy way of saying ‘the stars are magic.’”

Not exactly, but Elijah didn’t bother correcting her, instead leafing through a stack of loose pages scrawled in arcane symbols.

“Is everything okay? You don't look so good.”

“I don’t?” He turned, her question catching him off-guard. He wasn’t smiling, he realized. I’ve looked like this before. Pale face, sunken cheeks—the look of a man facing questions too vast to grapple alone. “I’ve been tracking some astronomical irregularities. That is, stars that aren’t where they should be.”

“That sounds bad. Is it bad?”

“It is…” He let out a long breath, choosing his next words. “It’s serious, but I don’t know about ‘bad.’” It was bad. Good omens never knocked stars out of alignment. “You don’t need to worry about it right now.” He smiled weakly and ruffled her hair. “Go on back to your studies. I’ll be down in a little while, and I plan to quiz you on chapters six through ten of Mendev’s Cosmic Bestiary.”

Azza scoffed and rolled her eyes, but offered no argument. More than his student this past year, she was his friend. He would tell her in time, but she deserved to have peace a little longer. The ladder creaked as she climbed back down, and Elijah returned his research.

This was bad, potentially catastrophic. Only powerful, unexpected fluctuations of magic could disrupt the stars, but he couldn’t figure out how or when or where.

He needed help.

Hours later, the night sky was alight with over a dozen floating lanterns. Paper and foil with little alchemical flames contained inside, the little flying objects drifted into the darkness. Guided by astrological magic, they would seek out their intended recipients wherever they were. Scholars, mages, alchemists, and more – the most competent and trusted people Elijah knew. He couldn’t unravel the stars alone, but perhaps with the right help…

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Two weeks later…

The room lightened up as the sun rose over the horizon. Rather, that’s what Rehtul first thought as he looked up from his books. The light flickered, however, and the mage looked up to find a paper lantern floating in the middle of his study. Its soft light reflected off the gold foil spines of his books as he just sat there, dumbfounded.

“What the hell is this?” He reached up and grabbed the paper dangling from the floating lantern. As his fingers brushed the page, goosebumps rose on his skin. Traces of magic lingered on the paper. He ripped it free and released the lantern through the window. Returning to his desk, he read the letter beneath the light of his lamp.

Something was coming, something momentous. Another had seen it. For days now, the ice mage had felt a disturbance in the air, tugging west toward Alerar. To receive a letter guided by the wind, from Alerar was no coincidence. His eyes lingered on the words ‘astrological disturbance’ scrawled in tight black script on the page.

“This… can’t be good.” He frowned. “Elijah, huh? I haven’t seen you since Salvar.” At a party neither of them should have attended.

Rehtul pulled his shirt from his back, letting the sweaty fabric hang freely. He scanned his bookshelves and picked out a few for Felicity to read on the way. The trip over the mountains west of Raiaera wasn’t quick or easy.

He opened the door to the dark corridor and yelled, “Felicity! Pack your things, we’re going to Alerar!”

=====================================

A rickety wagon waited in front of the manor with a pair of weathered old horses, the best Rehtul could do on short notice. The driver dared to charge him more than a luxury carriage.

“Short notice, ye understan’?” he had said. While the mage did not understand, he had no choice. The next carriage to Alerar was a week away.

“As long as you can keep a steady pace and get us there, I don’t really care,” He dropped fifteen gold coins into the wagoner’s hand.

“And yer sure ye won’t be needin’ any guards? I gotta couple boys looking to earn a few gold as well,” the man said with a half-toothed smile, rubbing his gray beard with an eye on the purse.

“I doubt that’ll be necessary. I’m not exactly defenseless and my…” Rehtul coughed, “My… partner is a walking armory. Anyone stupid enough to waylay us on the road will be sorry they did so.”

He furrowed his brow, but then just shrugged. “As ye say. Shall we get going?”

The mage nodded, and they were off as the sun crawled up toward midday. The old waggon jostled Rehtul around as it trundled along the bumpy road; he could feel bruises forming almost immediately.

“I swear, if I end up full of splinters…”

[Christoph]

A blood-red sun rose over the ashen badlands of southern Alerar. Here, the air smelled of brimstone and windswept sand glittered like glass. Deep in this wasteland, the only wagons for a hundred miles passed each other on the road. Going west, a ramshackle wagon held together with rope and prayers carried a mismatched trio of travelers. Going east, a trio of sturdy armored carriages.

No words were shared between the travelers, just suspicious glances from behind barred windows. None could miss the emblems engraved on the three carriages – a runed anvil, three gears, and corked vial. The sigils of the Artificers, Engineers, and Alchemists, the Three Guilds of Alerar.

[Flamebird]

It had begun as a simple apprenticeship in ice magic. Studying with Rehtul, Felicity hoped, would lend her discipline over the untamed magic roiling inside her. One month in, however, she found herself riding a bumpy wagon through a foul wasteland. She looked up from a book she could hardly focus on and sighed.

“Blasted rotten egg smell.” She pinched her nose. “I would rather be in Dheathain right now.” Humidity and everything… at least it smelled nicer there.

Ahead stood their destination, the observatory. The lonesome tower was rigid and practical, as one expected of Alerian architecture. There was nothing for miles, save chill wind and barren black dunes.

Felicity stood up, brushing dust off her long-sleeved shirt. With a yawn, she stretched her stiff muscles. She loathed sitting for so long. Having only a bitter mage and grouchy wagon driver for company did not help. Her swords rattled against her sides, bow hanging on her back. At least she remembered those in their hurry to leave, unlike her gambeson… and the money pound kept in it. She vaulted over the side of the wagon, making it shake and groan. Her boots hit the ground in a puff of ash, tiny black clouds.

“Aye!” the driver shouted. “You can’t jostle m’ wagon like-”

“I can do whatever I damn please!” Felicity glared back, before stomping off ahead with billowing ash in her wake.

Rehtul followed after her, and soon they stood before monstrous brass doors. Before she could knock, the doors swung open. She raised her fists, ready for trouble, but relaxed when she saw who awaited them. Elijah Belov. His brown hair was longer and messier than when she saw him last. Felicity felt pressure from his eyes as they passed from Rehtul to her, narrowing into a glare.

Was he still mad about Salvar?

Elijah sighed. “You’d best come in, then.”

The heavy doors slammed behind them as they entered, echoing off the cold stone. Their host led them to a room surrounded with looming bookstands, around all corners. Felicity sighed. She was really getting sick of libraries. The group approached the stone table in the center.

Elijah sat at the far end with a worn sigh. “I was starting to think no one would answer.”

Felicity took a step forward. “We answered.”

“I didn’t call you here; I called Rehtul. He is a respected scholar and mage, dependable and disciplined. You carry magic around like a thunderstorm in a glass jar. It’s so loud I can barely think straight. You're a disaster waiting to happen.”

Well. Felicity stood there gawking for a moment, mouth hanging open. He was definitely still mad. Bringing her powers into it was a low blow, though. She met the man’s glare, seething as she grit her teeth.

“You sure about that?” She would do everything in her power to prove him wrong.

[Christoph]

Elijah let out a sigh, forcing his stony face to soften. “I suppose I should tell you why you’re here.”

Yes, she nearly got him killed when they first met, and yes, he had to flee Salvar again as a result. But could he afford to turn away help right now?

He cleared his throat. “Much as it pains me to admit, I have uncovered a quandary beyond my abilities.”

Azza chimed in with a smirk. “Uh oh, he’s using his teacher voice. He’ll ramble for hours if you don’t stop him.”

The sorcerer scowled. “Hush.” She stuck her tongue out, but he continued on, unrolling a large blue parchment onto the table. “These are where the stars should be as of three days ago.” He took a piece of chalk and drew several lines from the stars composing the Torch of Radasanth and Hungir’s anvil. “This is where they actually were, and no doubt by tonight their paths will have diverged even further.”

Rehtul adjusted his glasses, leaning in. “You’re saying the stars are out of place? That’s troubling.”

“It’s a dark portent indeed, but of what or from where, I cannot say. There’s a pattern here, but it eludes me.”

“Some anomaly from the Tap, perhaps?” The ice mage leaned forward to study the chat, eyes narrowed. Alchemical lamplight reflected blue off his glasses.

“I thought of that, but I don’t think so. Look…” Eli traced his finger between the two constellations, tapping specific stars. “The Eternal Tap has always…” He held out his finger, searching for the right words. “It has always spiraled in the heavens. When its power wanes and waxes, the stars shift like this.” He dragged his finger in a swirling pattern over the parchment. “These constellations are being slowly torn apart. Nothing I’ve ever read suggests the Tap could do this, or any power in the world that I know of.”

[Rehtul Orlouge]

“So the most logical conclusion is this power is not of our world,” said Rehtul.

Across the table, Elijah narrowed his eyes. “You don’t mean…”

“Demons? It wouldn’t surprise me.” Rehtul tapped his chin and searched in his coat for a small notebook, flipping it open..

“Ever since Haidia was sealed off, priests around the world have been afraid something else was keeping the demons left in our world…” He searched for the right word. “...stable, I suppose you could say. This is all conjecture, however.”

Elijah nodded. “I’m less concerned with how the ‘Terrestrial’ demons in Tular have adapted, and more concerned with their Hadian ancestors. Could this be a breach?”

“Whatever is interfering with the stars is magic on a scale we haven’t seen since the time of the Tap. More importantly, whatever this is, it’s nearby. There’s a… premonitory sense of dread I feel the further into Alerar I’ve ventured. I assume that’s no coincidence.” The ice mage snapped the book shut and slipped it into one of the many hidden interior pockets within his coat.

“We passed three carriages on the way,” said Felicity. “Our driver said they were with the Guilds. Maybe they were looking for the same thing?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Elijah let out a long, hissing breath. “It can’t be good if all three Guilds are interested.”

“They had a lot of mining equipment with them. I thought they might be doing an archeological dig in the ruins nearby. I hadn’t considered that what we saw was the reaction to actually finding something, though.”

“Perhaps they didn’t know what they had found, else they would have sent more people.” Elijah muttered a few choice Salvic curses. “It’s only a matter of time.” He jumped to his feet. “Time to go, now.”

[orphans]

“This one?”

“No! No no, the other one. With the blue crystals.” Azza held up yet another bundle of trinkets, odds and ends, to which Elijah shook his head. “No no, with the round crystals that are faceted.” While giving instructions, he himself dug through piles of… piles. What he searched for, Azza could only guess.

Elijah’s list contained a staggering amount of what Azza considered junk, but he had insisted they needed it for the trip. She smirked as she sifted through bags and shelves and drawers, asking each time if she’d found the right one. Usually, the answer was ‘no.’ Azza was almost impressed with the sheer volume of stuff her teacher had accumulated, compared to her meager belongings. Two changes of clothes, a longsword–Elijah had made eyes at that when they first reunited–and some sentimental trinkets.

In the end, Elijah found most of it himself, things ranging from “required” to “absolutely imperative.” He shooed Azza outside to help the bespectacled-man and the flame-haired woman load the wagon. This didn’t take long, as they did not need many actual provisions for the short trip. The blue-haired glasses man waited patiently, muttering something now and then.

The red haired lass waited… less patiently. After ‘convincing’ the wagoner to extend his services, the woman spent the time shifting her feet and fidgeting. She was fuming. Not angry, Azza realized, but literally fuming. Swirls of mana radiated off of her like smoke. Elijah hadn’t seemed thrilled with her presence, and it took a bit for Azza to recall who she was. Her life was so full of disasters, that the banquet in Salvar barely registered in her memory. ’Elijah must have taken it personally…’

The group departed with the noon sun beating down on them. The atmosphere between the three ‘adults’ remained tense as they traveled, with only terse words exchanged. Meanwhile, Azza herself was happy to just enjoy the sights as the wagon rolled along the shifting dunes of ash and glass.

[Christoph]

“That must be the place.” Elijah pointed south, across the shifting dunes glittering in the moonlight. In the distance, a ring of crumbling obsidian spires jutted from the ash. A blighted crown atop the desert. Campfires burned, specks of orange in the distance.

“I can’t think of any other reason to camp out here,” Rehtul agreed.

They sat across from each other in the wagon, a shambling vehicle held together with string and prayer. Next to Eli, Azza slept with her head jostling against his shoulder with every bump. Felicity shifted in her seat, fidgeting with a restless energy that had endured since they left the observatory a day and a half ago.

The wagoner, who had remained in sullen silence since they strong-armed his cooperation, spoke up. “Reckin’ this is far enough. Ye can walk from here.”

Felicity bristled, opening her mouth to object, but Elijah and Rehtul held up their hands in unison. The two mages shared a smirk.

“That would be best,” said Eli. “Let us see what we’re dealing with before announcing our presence.”

================================

The four of them loaded everything they could onto their backs and hiked the last couple miles beneath the starry sky. An hour later, they found themselves on a rocky ledge overlooking the ruins. Below, dozens of workers scurried like ants, hauling debris and erecting tents between the crumbling spires. Robed Guild researchers huddled around lanterns.

No one saw Elijah or his companions approach, but a hundred meters of wide open sand spanned between them and their destination.

“That must lead to the artifact,” Elijah whispered, gesturing to the center of the ruins. There, a pit delved deep into the sand, orange light bleeding from below. He tapped his chin, thinking. “Perhaps we could sneak in? No, they would spot us before we got close.”

Azza looked at him and tilted her head. “Can’t we just walk up and say hello?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that would be a fun conversation. ‘Don’t mind us! The stars just told me to commandeer your research!’” Azza gave him a playful punch in the arm, and he aggressively ruffled her hair.

Felicity cleared her throat, and Eli could feel her roll her eyes. “The other option is to fight our way in.”

Eli gave a thoughtful grunt, peeking over the edge to the personnel scurrying about in the camp. He spotted a few guards, but no muskets, golems, or threatening ordinance. “That’s always an option. I doubt they could stop us, but…”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt on either side,” said Felicity. “They’re trying to solve this as much as we are.”

“I doubt that.” Elijah scoffed. “I know the Guilds. They want to profit off what they find, nothing more.”

[Rehtul Orlouge]

“I agree on both counts,” said Rehtul, breaking his long silence. “The Guilds cannot be trusted, but a violent approach will only cause more problems, much to my personal chagrin.”

He dusted off his glasses and slid them back on. “Fortunately, my father, Succed Orlouge, is a well-known arcane researcher who has helped the Guilds on several occasions, and you, my friend, are affiliated with the Astrologers.”

Elijah’s eyes perked up. “What do you propose?”

The ice mage spread his arms and smiled. “We walk up and say hello.”

===============================

“Good day. My name is Rehtul Orlouge. I come on behalf of Clan Orlouge of Corone to assist with the Guilds’ recent discovery here. These are my associates and assistants.”

The sorcerer Elijah stepped forward, chin high, projecting an air of authority. “I am Elijah Belov, representative for the Guild of Astrologers.” He gestured to his silver-haired companion. “This is Azza, my protege.” The girl waved.

Rehtul’s red-haired student stepped forward next. “Felicity Rhyolite, alchemist.” Technically true, though not in the way the Guild agents would think.

They stood among the glassy spires, some standing, others topped. At the heart of the ruins stood a pile of stacked rubble next to a staircase spiraling deep underground. Standing between that entrance the four mages were several guards and scribes, along with three officials in Guild officers’ garb.

Elijah seemed to know who they were, and whispered their names as they approached. Jivvin, with his strange mechanical body parts peeking from beneath blue Artificer’s robes. Cazri, a prim dark elf woman in Alchemist green. Sabal, a stout Engineer in a rust red tunic beneath a leather apron, with goggles resting atop his head.

“Were you not informed of our coming?” Rehtul asked. “Surprising. We heard about your discovery through my father, Succed Orlouge. He’s currently busy with his own projects, but sent me and my trusted associates to assist you, as he’s done in the past.”

“With all due respect, we have made considerable headway on our own,” said Chief Artificer Jivvin, his voice buzzing through a metal mask. “What could we possibly gain by involving your father?”

“Better us than the High Bards,” said Elijah. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Sabal, the dwarf Engineer, harrumphed. “Says the Astrologer. You're a bloody fake guild. Alerar has no use for your mysticism.”

The sorcerer laughed. “Unless you plan to strap a steam engine to the demonic artifact, you–”

“How do you know it's a demon gate?” The dwarf’s brow furrowed into a glare.

Well if we weren’t sure then, we are now.

Elijah smirked. “Astrologer, remember?”

“There is no need for factional rivalry,” Rehtul said, holding out his palms. “Elijah is correct, however. It’s part of the reason we were sent. Mostly, however, the two of us are here to help keep others out. My father's notoriety, if we broadcast this as one of his projects, would tend to keep other… ahem… 'researchers' out of your hair. Especially the Raiaeran ones.” While not entirely accurate, it was believable. He watched the eyes of the Guildsmen, seeing his gambit take root. The bluff was working.

Rehtul made a fist and opened it, conjuring a cloud of cold mist. “Plus my associates and I are competent mages with experience with demons. Our presence here will lend much needed security.”

The icy specks floated through the air, and while the assembled Guildsmen watched the glittering display, much smaller particles flowed from his other hand. Unseen, they embedded themselves into the ground and stones, and down into the underground chamber. He hid a smile. Nothing would hide from him, now.

Behind his metal mask, Jivvin the artificer frowned. “I remain unconvinced. I don't care if you can help keep others out. We don't want you here either.”

“I think you'll change your mind when word gets out. This place is radiating power already, and where there's power, opportunistic mages will surely follow.”

“Other than yourselves, you mean?” grumbled the dwarf.

“We are your best-case scenario,” said Elijah.

Cazri the artificer finally spoke up. “I believe them.” The other two Guild masters gawked at her, but she carried on. “They came to us openly, in good faith. I see no harm in letting them in. They are scientists as much as any of us. Plus, if anything does slip out of that damnable rift, having mages with that experience can’t hurt.”

The Artificer and Engineer grumbled, but ultimately the Guildsmen parted and let Rehtul and his companions through.

As they were left out of earshot, the mage fell back to keep pace with Elijah and whispered, “I have eyes everywhere in this cavern now. Nothing in here moves without me knowing about it.

[Christoph]

The four descended, down into the dark depths beneath the ruins. Spiraling stairs opened up into a vast, yawning chamber of granite pillars that sparkled in the lantern light. Elijah ran his hand over rows of letters carved into the stone.

“These are proto-Alerian glyphs,” he told Azza. “You can tell by the sharp angles taken from Dwarvish runes.”

His student tilted her head. “Why does it say ‘may these stones, from the stars, eternal hide’?”

He stopped mid-step. “How can you read that?” I sure as hell never taught her.

“My mentor taught me. You know, the one who you refuse to meet?”

Ah. “Things like this are why.”

Azza stuck out her tongue. “You might like her, you know?”

“Hide from the stars?” said Felicity with a scowl. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“Everything about this is ominous.” Elijah hid his unease beneath a smirk. “Come on, let us find this gate.” He led the troupe through the chamber, past groups of dark elves and dwarves. These researchers collected samples, created chalk rubbings of the stone-carved writing, and waved around various instruments.

The gate itself stood on the chamber’s far side. It was a slab of mirror polished onyx framed in fifty runic stones inset into the wall. A sword jutted from the floor. No, not just a ‘sword.’ It gleamed gold as if hammered from pure sunlight, jutting from a circle of arcane markings. The entire edifice thrummed with unseen power. It vibrated in his bones, and he felt a subtle force pulling him closer.

He turned to his companions. “Can you feel that?”

“Yes,” they all replied in unison.

“I see I was right to allow you access,” said a new voice. Cazri the Alchemist emerged from the shadows, her unnaturally blonde hair standing out against the darkness. “The four of you are much more sensitive to magic than any of my guildemates.”

Elijah cleared his throat, turning to face the dark elf. “With respect ma’am, the power behind this portal could move the stars. Sensing it was the easy part.”

“Easy for you, perhaps.” Cazri smiled, showing faint lines at the corners of her eyes. She was a striking woman, middle-aged in elf years, and beautiful, but in the manner of a predatory cat. Her pale eyes darted between them, settling for a long moment on Azza before snapping back to Eli. “Some accuse the Guilds of being ‘blinded by progress.’ Perhaps they are right in more ways than one.”

He grinned back. “We all have our blind spots.”

The alchemist clapped her hands together. “Now that you’re here, my colleagues will expect results, and so will I.” With that, she turned and sauntered off to the other Guild researchers.

“I like her,” said Elijah.

Felicity groaned. “You would.”

“I don’t like the way she looked at me,” Azza whispered.

Eli ruffled her hair and gave a playful shove. “She just wants your horns in a glass jar.”

Azza grimaced. “I like my horns where they are, thank you.”

He bit back a number of inappropriate remarks and squared his shoulders to the looming demon gate. Despite the power radiating from it, the lack of howling demons spilling forth into reality meant it was still dormant, still… closed.

“Let’s get to work,” he said at last. He began unpacking his supplies, pulling out lenses, bottles, scrolls, and various crystals. With more time to prepare, he could have brought a proper field laboratory, but he would make due. “Here.” He shoved a bag of blue faceted crystals into his student’s arms. “See if these react to any of the writing on the walls. If they turn red, let me know. If they turn yellow and shatter, run.”

He turned to Rehtul and Felicity. “We’re working blind right now. I need to know more about this place. How old it is, who built it, what kind of magic they used, and if that magic is still intact.”

[orphans]

“Oh sure, just run if one turns yellow,” Azza mumbled as she shuffled across the chamber with the bag. “Don’t mind the fact that we’re underground. Where would I run to?”

You know I can defend myself. At least, her teacher should know. Maybe he forgot, like how he forgot to pack extra socks for the trip. Azza seemed to attract absent-minded mentors. Elijah in particular was hard to read. He would treat her like delicate pottery one moment, and a piece of iron to be hammered into shape the next. Was this like having an older brother? She smiled at the thought.

Despite her initial grumbling, Azza set about her task with a spring in her step. It felt good to be out of the dingy observatory, get some fresh air and meet new people. Even if ‘fresh air’ was a dusty tomb and ‘meet new people’ meant eavesdropping on strangers’ conversations. Still, it made walking around and waving crystals at the wall much more interesting.

“What’s for lunch today?” asked a skinny dark elf in scribe’s robes.

“More hardtack and jerky, I’m sure,” replied a dwarf woman with dark circles around her eyes.

“Again? With how hard they’re pushing us, they could feed us some real food.”

“Go complain to Sabal, then.”

“You first.”

’Nothing fun...’ With a sigh, Azza moved along the wall. She circled past Rehtul. The ice mage was far more focused on the walls than she was, staring at random spots with squinted eyes as snowflakes fluttered around him. ’Maybe he’s having better luck,’ thought Azza, frowning at her crystal, which remained stubbornly blue now matter how hard she waved it around.

Another group of researchers walked past, muttering to each other. She pretended to work as she followed them along the wall.

“Have you seen Melen today?

“No, not yesterday either.”

’Now this is interesting…’

“Did she leave? She didn’t say anything to me.”

“I wager she got hurt, and the higher ups are keeping it quiet so nobody makes a fuss.”

Distracted by the conversation, Azza’s hand brushed against the strange golden sword sticking out of the floor. Her crystal changed from cold blue to a fiery orange. “Eli- er. Master Elijah! What does orange mean?”

[Christoph]

Elijah perked up upon hearing his name, setting some tools onto a worktable he had claimed. That was quick.

“One moment,” called Elijah. “I need to–wait, orange?” With a curse, he darted across the chamber, cursing louder when nearly bowled over a gaggle of startled scribes. He snatched up the crystal, holding it up to a lantern.

“Is that bad?” asked Azza, backing away as if the crystal might explode at any moment.

Smart girl, you’re learning. “It’s not not bad. Yellow means potent magical contamination–of the ‘oh gods, all my skin is missing’ variety–but I’ve never seen orange before.”

He narrowed his eyes, peering close at the crystal. Azza said something beside him, but he couldn’t hear. From this close, the gate’s power buzzed like a beehive in his skull. An unseen force tugged at the crystal, guiding his hand closer to the sword. The sword. An urge filled him, a desire to pull it out of the ground and raise it to the sky. To ride into battle like the dawn itself.

The crystal glowed bright, like amber held to the sun. It shook, and with a loud crack, it shattered in his hands. Elijah recoiled. The crystal shards clattered onto the floor. Azza held onto his arm, steadying him. The buzzing faded.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, patting his student’s shoulder. He took a deep breath and the world stopped spinning.

Azza smirked. “It’s been over a week since the last lab explosion, so I guess we were due.”

“Hush.” He gave her a shove.

“Is everything okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

Nothing was okay about this. He didn’t know what they were dealing with, but he felt out of his depth already. “That sword is powerful. Puts mine to shame.” He patted the prevaldia blade on his hip.

“Did… did it move on its own? Look.” She pointed to the sword. It was angled slightly left, but wasn’t it like that already?

He rubbed his eyes. “Gods, who knows at this point. I need to figure out what it is and what it’s doing here. Fetch my vial of Warg saliva and the mithril scalpel, for the–”

Rehtul appeared beside him. “Sorry to interrupt.” The ice mage lowered his voice, glancing at all the researchers scurrying about. “Listen very carefully. You need to get the researchers out of here. They’re in danger.”

“What, why?” Elijah looked at the man, whose face was paler than usual. “What’s going–”

“I’ll explain after.” His urgent whisper cut through Elijah’s objections. “Clear the room. Now.”

Shit, shit. Elijah glanced about the chamber. How do I… He scooped up the crystal shards and held them overhead.

He filled his lungs and bellowed. “Listen up! Magical contamination is spreading from the artifact. Evacuate the chamber immediately!”

Every head turned to him, faces painted in confusion or annoyance. The researchers looked at each other, muttering. Some glanced around for the Guild Masters.

Flames danced around Elijah’s feet. “Gods damned fools, move it!”

[Flamebird]

Felicity hissed through gritted teeth. These fools! They would rather blabber in the face of urgent threats! Rehtul was equally impatient, “We need to clear the room fast.”

Elijah kept urging them to leave, smoke rising from the sorcerer as his frustration mounted, but the Guild scholars hesitated. If I could sense magic like I used to… Then she would know how dire the situation was, how long before disaster! She didn’t know what was coming, but the seriousness in her teacher’s voice made it clear. Enough of this.

She shoved past Elijah and stomped her foot onto the floor hard enough to shake the ceiling. “Listen up, you Guild bootlickers!” she bellowed, her voice filling the chamber. “This is a crisis, so stop your politicking and thumb-sucking and get the Haides out before I make you!”

She slammed her fist into the wall, cracking the stone. The scholars stared at her, wide eyed and mouths gaped, before taking her ‘advice.’ They abandoned their equipment and hurried up the stairs.

“Masterfully done,” said Elijah from beside her. Was that actually grudging respect in his voice?

It had better be, after all that!

“Your… your hair is on fire.”

“Hmm?” She patted the top of her head – it was hot to the touch. She shrugged. “That happens sometimes.”

Turning to Rehtul, she asked, “Alright, they’re out. What’s all this then?”

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul frowned and held up a single hand. A cloud of mist rose around him and a faint tinkling echoed through the nearly silent chamber. The ground around the mage cracked and split as blades attached to heavy chains shot forth from within the earth.

They flew through the air toward the wall. One sunk into the soft rock, stuck like a thrown dart.

Quick little bastard, aren't you?

The second chain swung through the air in an arc and seemed to catch on something in the air above the cavern floor. A harsh thud sounded through the room as dust rose up from the ground. The chain was wrapped around something unseen that struggled desperately to escape. The ice mage exerted a bit more effort and more chains erupted from the ground, arcing over the thrashing form. The chains drew tight and pinned the creature to the ground.

He brought a single hand over the form and a giant icicle appeared over the creature. With a swipe of his hand, the spear of ice impaled the writhing form. Blood splattered the rock as the black and purple skin of a demon showed itself from between the chains as the creature issued its last breath.

“That's why.” He brought his hand to his lips and blew. A floating mist of frozen water droplets filled the room and brought the outline of a couple dozen other shapes into view. Long, lanky bodies slinking through the shadows, creeping on the walls came into view.

Elijah cursed. A few of the demons ran quickly toward him, aware that they no longer held the advantage of surprise. As they rushed in, Rehtul stomped his right foot. A geyser of ice erupted forward from the ground in front of his foot and impaled most of the attackers in one fell swoop.

Rehtul waved his arm and a set of icy bladed pinions appeared, floating inches in front of his forearms. He crossed his arms and fanned the blades out, pointed at the demonic entities.

“Everyone on your guard! These things are quick.”

[orphans]

Demons. Long spindly-limbed demons with claws blossoming from every appendage. This was not Azza’s idea of a good time. What’s worse, she’d left her longsword in camp. Her companions rushed into battle, but they had never fought together – it was chaos. Azza scurried across the floor, dodging demons, Rehtul’s ice shards, and several varieties of fiery explosion.

She reached the sword again. Despite who-knows how long underground, it never lost its luster. It gleamed in the light of her allies’ spells. Gaudy, really. Overly ornate, not something she would ever use, but she wasn’t here to criticize its design. The sword was linked to the gate. She was sure of it. If she could tweak it a little, maybe she could save them. It’s just all my friends’ lives at stake. How hard can it be?

A bolt of ice streaked past her head, sweeping her air in a wake of air. A shadowy shape careened overhead followed by a blast of fire. Elsewhere in the room, Felicity’s yells echoed after the otherworldly screech of the creatures. Grabbing the handle of the sword with both hands, threw Azza into complete silence. The world around her slowed, a blooming explosion unfurling like a flower.

“Well now, this is unexpected,” said a voice, weary but amused. The luminescent figure of an old dark elf in regal clothing stood before her, his own hands resting on the pommel of the sword as she held it.

“Who-”

“Elrohir Fararil.” He smiled. “Just an old spook keeping back some unsavory sorts. Now, as much as I’d like to indulge you with whatever questions you may have, you should know that you holding my weapon is weakening me.”

After a moment’s shock at the revelation, she nodded. She should have known her powers would have this effect. “Then you can answer quickly. The seal was out of place. What do I need to do to correct it?”

Elrohir chuckled and took his hands away from the sword. “Simply turn in the direction counter of any clock. The blade must align with the Spring equinox alignment of Brinziah’s Anchor.”

“I know that constellation!” Swallowing her creeping apprehension, she took a deep breath. The word came back into focus. The figure of Elrohir dissipated. Chaos resumed. The gate shimmered in pink light – spindly, inky limbs clawed their way through.

“I can close it!” Azza cried, searching for Elijah in the bedlam. She gripped the handle hard and began to turn with all her might. The floor clicked once, but the shimmer remained. She twisted harder. A toothy maw shoved its way through the shimmer, splattering its ichor on her face.

[Christoph]

“Azza will close the gate!” Elijah shouted as he sprinted to his student’s side, dodging swiping claws and dripping teeth. His sword lashed out as his other hand made the Sign of the Fang. When the blade pierced black flesh, the wound erupted in flame. More demons scuttled forth, coming for Azza.

Eli wove several Signs, tracing their constellations across the air. The signs of the dragon’s tail, claw, and heart filled his body with strength, speed, and vigor, but it wasn’t enough. Without time to prepare, he felt vulnerable.

A spindly, red-eyed monster dropped behind him and reared up to strike. A swarm of ice spears slammed into it, impaling it a dozen times. Elijah gave Rehtul a nod.

Stars of the Dragon’s Breath. As six demons charged from all sides, Elijah wove his most potent sign. Thirty points in the sky, its pattern slightly different each night – he knew it like his own face. A draconic roar shook the walls. Flame burst from his hands, a burning shock wave that smashed into his vile attackers. Black flesh sizzled and billowed foul-smelling smoke. When the roar fell quiet, only ash remained of his foes.

It wasn’t enough. More and more demons crawled from the shimmering gate, claws reaching through the tear in reality, dragging their twisted bodies into his world.

“To me!” he cried, but who could help? Chaos consumed the portal chamber, his comrades beset by abominations.

[Flamebird]

Well. This was fun. Ushering people out one moment, only for demons to rush in the next. She drew her arming swords and jumped into the fray, slicing necks and thrusting into their red, pulsing chests. For each she cut down, more appeared. In the chaos, she lost track of her allies. She heard Elijah cry out.

I’m doing everything I can! she wanted to yell. Sweat dripped brow as she stabbed a large demon made of ink and smoke. She caught a glimpse of Azza struggling with the sword, the key to the gate. The girl needed her help, at any cost.

Sheathing her swords, Felicity charged the gate. Leoric’s unarmed training came back to her as she punched and kicked, smashing the demonic enemies. Wow, their skin burned at first! But she had no time to process the pain as more burns covered her skin. She needed more power!

Her mentors had warned her many times about what she was about to do, but right now, she needed to be the biggest threat in the room. She needed to unleash the nuclear power within her body, even though she could destroy everything around her. Even though she would lose control. No time to dwell on it.

As the demons swarmed, she bit her thumb. Power began spilling out of her. Several demons slashed a her skin, drawing more blood. More power, more madness. A cloak of orange energy swirled around her as the demons’ unholy screeches rang out. Lost in the feral rage, Felicity unleashed her power. She ripped and tore, decimating the demons, crushing their skulls, pulling limb from limb. All the while, they burned in the nuclear cloak and recoiled at the radiation bursting from her. Rage. Pure rage. This… this thing Felicity had chosen to let loose from its cage…

… was far more of a monster than any demon here was.

[Christoph]

Elijah groaned, climbing back to his feet. Everything hurt, but the scene before him wiped such thoughts from his mind. Starfire consumed the chamber, burning hotter than even Elijah’s dragon flame. A flash, then only ash remained. Elijah’s heart lurched in his chest. Amidst the ash stood a sun in a woman’s shape, wearing Felicity’s face. He feared few things, but now he stared down a force of nature. Yet, that force of nature turned its face to his student. His student.

“Felicity!” he roared, striding across the charred chamber. The woman was lost to her power; when she turned to him, her eyes bore no recognition. Pure rage consumed her humanity. White hot flames erupted from her body, surging for Azza. Elijah clenched his teeth and focused. He channeled his own pyroaffinity, his mind grabbing hold of the raging fire and pushing it back with raw force of will.

This only made her angrier. She burned brighter. The power within her was deeper than the ocean, but Elijah could see its tangled threads thrashing against reality. He twitched his fingers, tracing a single, devastating constellation once, twice, thrice. The Shears of Shakhara manifested in his mind's eye as a swarm of spectral scissors slashing the threads of Felicity’s magic. The last strand snapped with a shockwave of force that nearly knocked him over.

“It’s done,” he whispered, trying desperately to believe it.

[Flamebird]

Groggy, vision flickering. She felt terribly, terribly off. This… was different. Sure, the memory fog was as prevalent as ever, but this feeling… like she was trapped. Energy was bursting inside. She looked around. She was on the floor in a pile of ash. The bodies of felled demons were crumpled alongside her. She winced, feeling the cuts across her frame. She moaned as she drew herself up, hands slapping against the floor. She looked up, seeing that Azza was fine and Elijah looked relieved. She looked over to Rehtul and opened her mouth.

“Did we-”

She gasped as a slimy coil wrapped around her frame. She looked back. All the demons, writhing as they were being drug into the portal, were glaring with light reflecting eyes. Her eyes widened as more abominable claws extended outwards.

“What the-”

She was yanked back, feeling more cuts inflicted upon her skin. With her powers bizarrely not responding, she hissed at the pain as she was pulled along the floor. Away from Rehtul. Away from everyone. Terror enveloped her as she realized what was happened. The cloth across her stomach was ripped off; her pants reduced to shorts. Her hair was snagged and yanked along piles of demon flesh as she desperately fought against the hordes of hands. Despite all her strength, it was of no use. Bound and unable to reach for any weapons, she felt a hand cover her mouth as she looked back at her companions with a final, terrified look.

Shinsou! Leoric! Rehtul! Nevin! Anybody! Help me!

The portal was closing, but the demons were insistent on dragging her down - no - back with them.

[Christoph]

Elijah could only watch as the demon claws reached from beyond, clutching Felicity and dragging her into their hellish realm. Azza released her grip on the sword. A snap of energy surged through the chamber, and the shimmering inside the demon gate faded. The door was closed. A fire raged in Elijah’s chest, fists and teeth clenched.

Rehtul appeared beside him, the ice mage as calm as ever when he said, “We can’t leave her.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped.

Azza stood up off the floor, dusting herself. She looked at him. “What are we going to do?”

Elijah sighed. She’s safe, at least. That will have to be enough. “Open the gate.”

“What?” said Azza and Rehtul in unison.

“Just a crack. We can’t abandon a comrade to those monsters, so I’m going after her.” He held out a hand, shaking Rehtul’s. “It’s been a pleasure working with a mage of your caliber.”

“Eli–Master Elijah, you can’t–”

He didn’t look at her yet, forcing himself to focus on Rehtul. “A word of warning: this gate didn’t open itself. Someone did it on our side.”

The ice mage nodded. “I understand.”

“Keep Azza safe for me.”

His student finally pushed herself between him and the gateway. “You still have more to teach me!”

“I know, I know.” He put both hands on her shoulders. “This needs to happen, but I promise, I will find you.”

She sniffed, smiling weakly. “‘When you wake up?’”

“That’s right.” He ruffled her hair, smiling back. “But not in twelve years, this time.”

With that, Azza closed her eyes and grasped the sword. She turned its handle a high-imperceptible fraction. The rightmost edge of the gate shimmered again, spewing the stench of old meat and cloves. Without a word, Elijah stepped forward into that shimmer, and departed the mortal realm.

Hell awaits.

[Preston]

Judgment: Team Four




Hey hey! So I will be doing a condensed version of the rubric for the tournament. I will still be adding commentary to the sections, so you may see random comments as I notate and read through things. If you have questions or concerns please feel free to reach out to me to discuss. I wish you all the best!



Plot (Story, Setting, Pace) 19

All: there was a huge lack of setting in the beginning. And it continued throughout really… Post 11 Azza mentioned traveling through dunes of ash and glass, but there was no context of what that meant or where anyone was.

Christoph: I really LOVE the mapping of the constellations and the names for them because it made it feel real (post 9).

I thought that your overall story was great. I think that there could have been more to justify Flame, as her opening didn’t really give me a clear indication of why she was joining. Otherwise, the plot was great. As the story continued I felt like Flame and Rhet were both side characters, which missed the mark for me. The pacing was great, the story was missing, and the setting was nonexistent.


Character (Communication, Action, Persona) 25

Overall: The communication was great, in a book way. It felt hard to differentiate between the characters, and you all wrote dialogue together which made it flow better, but also made it harder to actually judge.

Christoph: I’m putting out here that the opening dialogue between you and Azza in her first post is the most genuine and engaging I’ve read on the site ever. (Post 2).

Orphans: I love your character, from dialogue to subtle interactions. I felt like while I was reading I could picture Azza easily the whole time as a true character, not just a person talking. I actually laughed out loud at your interaction with Christoph in your first post. I LOVE Azza’s character and the internal dialogue and passive interactions… so good!
Post 15 felt like too much dialogue and not enough character with her, like a filler and it took away from Azza

Rehtul: I love how you approached the opening to the story, it felt very character driven and true to the character as well. Your writing focuses a little too much on the dialogue between characters and there is a missing element of physical reactions and setting along with it at times. Otherwise, It’s on point for the character.

Firebird: I have to give you props for dialect based dialogue that was well written. Aside from that, you wrote pretty well. Post 17 felt like you were a side character, which is not against you as much as it is on the team not incorporating you into the story well.


Prose (Mechanics, Clarity, Technique) 25

All: I have nothing really overall to critique, so I will just observe individual thing

Christoph: Your opening writing style was very staccato and was hard to follow. While engaging, and interesting, it made it hard to figure out what was happening, and it ended up being a dream that, while a good opening, was confusing at first.
“gate’s power buzzed like a beehive in his skull” - Such a great line!

Rehtul: Your posts are very heavy with dialogue, which without any prose or narrative leaves the reader just going back and forth between people talking.

Flamebird: Your pacing and writing style for the demon attack in Post 21 was phenomenal.


Wild Card 0

Every post after the 10th post doesn’t count, as it was after midnight on 12/29. So I will be giving you all exp and a reward for joining, but it depends on how the tournament goes if you will advance. This is due to 16/24 posts being past the deadline (only 8 happened before the midnight cutoff).

Interact with at least one faction, either as an ally or enemy - or create your own and that faction must interact with the others somehow - Kinda
Overcome one “political” obstacle - Kinda
Due to the hurried nature of everyone scrambling to get to the new discovery, your characters are not fully stocked/prepared in some way - I saw mention of it, but it didn’t really impact the story that much


Score: 69

Christoph: 1740 exp | 200 gp
Azza: 1410 exp | 200 gp
Rhetul: 1325 exp | 200 gp
Flamebird: 1655 exp | 200 gp

[Preston]

EXP and GP added!