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  1. #11
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    GP
    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
    Race
    Telgradian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Tenedos and Damascus had cleared themselves out of the commotion with the kind of skill and precision expected of assassins, but also with the fear of men who had already experienced the wrath of the Brotherhood. As it had been in the great Siege of Radasanth, the pair found themselves diving swiftly between houses and alleyways. There may not have been the advancing army, explosions, the flaming debris raining down from the sky or the smell of death hanging in the air from shouldering corpses, but the urgency to escape Tylmerande was much greater. This time, there wouldn’t be an army to hide behind, nor would there be anyone else to take the flack in their stead. Storm Veritas was unscathed, and now with Shinsou out of the picture the electromancer was sure to be foaming at the mouth. He would be doing all he could to identify the shooter, meaning it was too dangerous to risk hanging around.

    Tenedos followed the lead of his counterpart as Damascus leapt high in the alley, kicking off a wall and landing gracefully on a low shale rooftop. The crowd from the town itself started to flood the passages, creating human congestion for any pursuing guards to get stuck in. Without hesitation, they sprinted, the wind ripping across their faces. With the traffic on the ground thickening, Tenedos knew he had to go up to get out, and looking around for a few good outlets presented him with a fourth story window of what looked like a disused shop just big enough for the both of them, across a six foot gap. Motioning to Damascus to follow, Tenedos burst into a full sprint and kicked off from the ledge, crashing through the grimy window pane in a crumpled heap.

    “Shit,” The assassin exclaimed as two shards of jagged glass impaled themselves within his right palm, drawing sudden streams of crimson. As Damascus tumbled into the shadows behind him, Tenedos ducked between two tall stone columns. Tearing off a piece of his shirt, the man wrapped the bandage about the injured hand and tied it taut.

    “You ok?” Damascus asked gruffly.

    “Yeah, yeah, fine.” His companion snapped back, walking over to the other side of the empty floor and surveying the network of back alleys at his disposal. To redirect himself towards the exit of town that was the least guarded, he would have to head north from here, and then take a sharp east. The route never got touched by the midday sun and, more importantly, seemed cut off from the center.

    “What about the boss?” Damascus piped up as he shed his jacket, throwing it into the corner of the abandoned room, “He was supposed to be coming with us!”

    “Wolf food, most likely. We’re dead too if we stay here, so get going.” A frown crept across Tenedos’s face. The plan had been successful, but he knew the man who had commissioned the act was alive and well, and Tenedos personally wanted to be as far away from him as possible. He would become a problem. It seemed preposterous that their paymaster was more of a danger to them than the Telgradian and the electromancer, but given what was at stake for their benefactor…

    “Well come on then!” Damascus insisted, becoming more animated with time, “Let’s get out of here!”

    Tenedos’s heart rate hadn’t recovered yet. He could feel the drumming of it against his chest, still frenetic, whilst his skin felt flushed.

    Then, footsteps. Audible footsteps.

    The pair backed up, daggers quickly to their sides as a hooded form manifested from the stairwell at the far end. Though thin and wiry, he towered in contrast to the men, and walked confidently to within a couple of feet of them both. A mosaic of blue and white arcane energies signified the end of a portal. Waving his hand, a pair of spectacles appeared instantly on the face of the specter, and a crop of brown hair crept over the figure’s face from within the hood.

    “Tell me, Tenedos,” The softly spoken voice echoed through the dilapidated surroundings, "Was your shot as true as you claimed?"

  2. #12
    Ride The Lightning

    EXP: 166,794, Level: 17
    Level completed: 83%, EXP required for next Level: 3,206
    Level completed: 83%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,206


    Storm Veritas's Avatar

    GP
    25,550

    Name
    Storm Veritas
    Age
    39
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    It was only a few moments later that the door from the room adjacent to Shinsou’s unfortunate quarters was opened again. The door opened in with a gentle creak, exposing the wizard who had finished his interrogative work. He appeared a bimodal disaster; well dressed with sharp creases in his suit offset by his hair uncharacteristically messy, sweat stains forming in the center of his chest and at his armpits. Most notably, blood was spattered across his clothing in seemingly errant streaks, six or seven slashes of crimson and battery orange-brown across his knuckles, suit, and shoes. There was no sound behind him coming from the room, the fate of the salesmen seemed to have been terrible.

    Walking sharply but without panic towards the quarters of Vaan Osiris, a thin, petite blonde nurse was stopped by the villain. Her eyes were doe-like as she tried to balance her fear beneath duel masks of preoccupation and polite desire to serve.

    “Nurse, see to Master Greysmith behind me. He’s passed out having undergone some harrowing dental work, and will likely be well served by a stiff drink or something heavier when he comes to.”

    Looking back at the puddle of scarlet slowly walking its way into view from the room he had just exited, Veritas strode to check on his Telgradian business partner. Satisfied with the stability of his trusted ally, his eyes met the front door of the lean-to hospital.

    Sorry friend; I can’t do shit for you in here. I can barely set a stitch, let alone run these little machines faster. I’ve got to go where I can be useful. I will stop them from coming back.

    His eyes moved from his friend, who was breathing with the help of some incredible machines, and back to the door, where the bright sun framed the rectangular passage behind the oaken door, betraying what had been an undeniably dark day. His curious gaze pivoted quickly back into focused slits, the electromancer returning to a singular focus. He was two strides forward when the door was opened for him, and one step forward through the threshold when his attention found a man named Gabriel.

    Gabriel was a gambler; one the adventurer had met early in his travels. He was connected, relatively wealthy and a connoisseur of rumors. He was one of a handful of men Storm Veritas had short-listed for tier-two leadership before Tylermande went sideways on him. Gabriel was also a short, fat man with tanned skin that burned in unique patterns atop his particularly lackluster hairline, and his cheeks wobbled in a frenzy when he saw Storm bearing down on him. Gabriel had wondered into a very bad place at a very bad time.

    “Sir Veritas, I…” The glistening face of the cherubic hustler was stopped mid-phrase by the long, vicious fingers of Storm, who had closed on him and grabbed his face like an angler looking to hoist a prize smallmouth bass. Pushing forward, Storm had driven Gabriel into a shady alley beside the hospital building, oblivious to the dozen or so onlooking citizens. They were still quite visible here, but few would be bold enough to move into their periphery. If the shade delivered any respite from the heat, the corpulent swindler didn’t sweat a drop less.

    “Shut the fuck up, Gabriel.” It was at this moment that the fear yielded to abject terror, as the doughy weasel noticed the eclectic spatters of blood upon Tylermande’s connected elite. Gabriel’s fat little mouth closed into a taut circle as he wisely followed instructions, not complaining at the pain inflicted upon his face.

    “Damascus. Tenedos. You know the names, I’m sure. I have the who, I need the where. Let’s not let this get messier for you, shall we?”

    As expected, the coward named Gabriel folded like a beach towel, offering up every morsel that Storm Veritas would need to locate his new prey. They’d be on the run, but their likely next stop wasn’t so far away. With one more horrifying and promised glare, Storm released his captor with a rough push, watching Gabriel bump roughly into the stucco wall behind him. For his obesity, the little fellow popped up and excused himself with impressive speed.

    After only a moment or so, the terrible Storm Veritas emerged from the alley alone. His hair was pulled back taut, face and hands cleared of bloody debris. This was easily overridden by the soulless grey eyes that seemed to stare out forever, towards the western parts of the city. His expression was totally vacant, as though humanity had left him altogether for his singular, driving purpose.

    He was hunting, and he would succeed.
    Last edited by Storm Veritas; 07-08-2019 at 04:02 PM.

  3. #13
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    GP
    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
    Race
    Telgradian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    "What do you mean?" Tenedos said to the hooded man. He tightened his hold on the daggers, readying himself for a fight if so required.

    The portal behind the cloaked enigma died away with a whimper. Outside, heavy, cumbersome rainclouds had rolled in from the north and before long raindrops heavily rang a thousand staccato beats across the Tylmerande architecture. Damascus shuffled uncomfortably as the sound of an arcane hum grew ever louder, and Tenedos bounced on his heels as the vibrations of unknown magics started to manifest all around him. It was power, raw power, stemming from their employer. The hooded figure momentarily closed his eyes, shut out the empty pit in his stomach and focused on the pair in front of him, enough that when he spoke, it came out with a straight, unwavering voice.

    "Shinsou Vaan Osiris is still alive."

    "He can’t be," spoke Tenedos, wide eyed with both shock and desperation, “I shot him right in the chest; In the heart. There was no time for Storm to deflect the bullet, and Shin-“

    "Nevertheless," the man interrupted, willing himself to stare sidelong at the man he had hired, "He lives all the same, and now Storm comes for you. You have made this very difficult for me, Tenedos."

    "What more could I have done?!" Tenedos asked, incredulous and bemused in the same breath. "There isn’t a man amongst us who could have made that shot with Storm around, and it was impossible to get close to them. If we had, we’d be dead. You weren’t by his side then, but I saw them in action at Radasanth. I watched two men do things mortals should simply not be able to do. This was the only way to hit him, and we did." he declared. The tone behind the words shook Damascus right to his core; their employer had proven in the past he was not one to be argued with, and his partner, for all of his bravery, was doubtless walking on thin ice.

    The cloaked figure smiled pityingly. "Yes, you did." He held up his hand, and a silver ring with a Brotherhood crest shimmered on his finger. It was red and black, just like the ones worn by the upper echelons of the Castigar hierarchy. "I suppose you did everything that could be expected of a pair of sewer rats from Radasanth. But it isn’t enough to stop the rot. Sadly, I only have one more use for you both now; corpses, for the coroner.”

    "What?" Damascus asked in genuine disbelief.

    "Shut your goddamned mouth, Arius!" Said the spunkier Tenedos, who had clearly now heard enough. He knew what was coming from the moment their boss had warped into the building, and he was damned if he was going to let this arrogant son of a bitch make the first strike. The mercenary stuck out the daggers, flipped them over and closed his eyes.

    I don’t know if this is going to work, but I have to try.

    “Senkai: Arashi no Ikari”

    There was a long pause before Tenedos realised that nothing was happening. Frustrated and desperate, the mercenary helplessly opted for wide swing of the blades and met a wall of violet-blue feathers that billowed into place before it, negating the attack completely. With a simple wave of his hand, the hooded man slammed Tenedos sickeningly into the westernmost wall. By then, Damascus was already spinning through to a counterattack; a battering ram in the form of a clenched fist. It was dodged easily, and as the heavy set man blew by him the cloaked figure unleashed a stream of lightning that struck Damascus violently and threw him into the other wall.

    The hooded man smiled as lightning from the window outside caught his spectacles, and thunder rumbled its agreement. Finally, a pair of smooth hands slipped from under his robes and folded the hood back, revealing the naked head of Arius Mephisto.

    Shinsou’s trusted advisor turned to face to a writhing, groggy Tenedos and paced to him, pulling him up by his hair.

    “So, when did you steal them from me?” Arius asked, an underlying anger present in his voice as his free hand summoned magnesium-white whorls of flame. “those daggers were created by Shinsou for Storm Veritas. They won’t work for just anyone.”

    "Our second meeting in Radasanth. It was too easy, really. You have a habit of underestimating us, just a pair of sewer rats. Does that make you angry?" Tenedos asked him with a sneer on his face and hatred in his eyes. He spat a clot of blood at Arius’s feet.

    Suddenly, a wounded but enraged Damascus burst from the ground, rotten floorboards ripping up in his wake. He closed in with another punch and Arius turned just in time to meet him in kind with a hard swing of the flame immolated hand. The tall mercenary slammed down a few feet away, rolled and came to rest at the broken window. His head lulled to one side and eyes rolled back into his head as the final vestiges of life ebbed away from his body.

    “Damascus…” Tenedos, through bloodied lips, uttered his friend’s name as he witnessed his demise. Arius took off his cloak, revealing a white greatcoat tied about the waist with a black sash. It seemed to be in mockery of his leader, or perhaps a self-proclaimed symbol of his standing. Slowly, he walked back over to the muddled sellsword, and pulled his bloody, mottled hair back so that Tenedos’s eyes met his own. Gasping for breath, the mercenary glared through wincing eyes at his oppressor.

    “What…do you…hope to gain…by betraying them?” The words were pursed, drawn out and spoken with every ounce of energy left in his body, but met only with a cold sneer by the Brotherhood second in command. Without warning, another magnesium-white flare burst into existence from Arius’s free hand and the resulting blast took off the right side of Tenedos Torr’s head, tearing away part of his neck and shoulder in the process. He collapsed to the floor in a bloodied, crumpled heap, the leftover momentum dragging him down on one side. Arius watched him on the way down, staring at the lifeless corpse.

    Things hadn’t transpired the way he had planned, but Mephisto knew that events would lead to where he wanted them to go. And with another sneer, Arius deigned not to linger over it. He left the bodies where they fell and didn't bother watching as his arcane flames enveloped them, quickly disintegrating them into thin air.

    The distant thunder once again pounded Tylmerande, and lightning struck again.

  4. #14
    Ride The Lightning

    EXP: 166,794, Level: 17
    Level completed: 83%, EXP required for next Level: 3,206
    Level completed: 83%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,206


    Storm Veritas's Avatar

    GP
    25,550

    Name
    Storm Veritas
    Age
    39
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Fury drove the old wizard, who found himself moving with purpose and a swiftness he hadn’t felt in ten years. The creaks his knees and hips usually offered in disapproval of his efforts were conspicuously silent. With his hands and shirt still bloodied, people in the streets stole indirect stares, terrified of the rapidly moving villain as he pushed forward in defiance of the emerging rain. The packed dirt beneath him popped up, dusty puffs little explosions with each devastating droplet, leaving a thin cloud for Veritas to push westward through. The people about him, bustling to find shelter, were merely slowly moving obstacles, ones he sidestepped, outran, or even leapt as he pursued his goal.

    Can’t let them reach the west gate; they won’t stay covered for long. Shit, they could be long gone by now. You waited too long.

    Thunder surrounded him, a sort of metaphor that fueled him. Lightning struck to the north, a tremendous explosion that seemed in tune to his running. The Storm’s coming… he thought to himself, simultaneously lavishing in his own power and grimacing at the awful pun. Regardless, the glares at him had turned away towards his target. The chatter and hollers from people clearing the way before him began to turn as a singular, ordinary stucco building some two hundred yards from him flashed white with an audible bang. It was magic; the commotion leading many townfolk-idiots to surround the building in a loose, safe thirty foot perimeter. They were curious, but not stupid.

    Storm didn’t need to examine the building to know it was his target; coincidences rarely existed upon Althanas. He also intuited that a simple knock on the front door would be a spectacularly bad idea, as he skidded to a halt some hundred yards from the sun-bleached white building. This was no fortress; by standing tall over the growing crowd, large gothic windows dotted all sides of the building, sad eyes letting in the natural light.

    Not screwing with this wall of sad humanity. Last thing I need is another hero getting in my way.

    East of the building was a smaller building, a flat-topped mixed-use building that doubled as a small grocer and home for a well-acquainted family. Without thinking, Veritas popped up in the air atop the roof, catching the eyes of only three or four citizens who were otherwise concerned with the ruckus before him. A few fingers pointed to the bounding electromancer, but he wouldn’t give them time to consider the implication of it all. In five long strides he was off the roof, somersaulting gracefully through the air and landing between the world’s most cowardly lynch mob and the target building. This was accompanied by a few gasps and whispers. He was frightened of what may lead ahead, but this fear was overwhelmed by anger. Resolute, Storm elected to blast a focused shot of electrical energy at the window as he leapt for it. Whomever was inside would likely be ready to fight.

    Bring it. You’re fucking with the wrong bull today, my friend.

    Obediently, the window exploded inward, leaving him a rough, slippery footing of broken glass and splinters. His hijacking of the action was met with relative quiet; the familiar scent of ozone mixing with the acrid, sour smell of blood and fire. Blood was everywhere, and a few tables had been overturned, glass dishes and plates shattered upon the oak hardwood floor. To his left, a tall, thin figure stood by the door. With a smooth, bald head and wide, toothy smile, Arius Mephisto held a devil’s grin for the intruder. He spoke without hesitation or fear, adjusting the Brotherhood ring on his finger.

    “Lovely parlor trick, Mr. Veritas, but I’m happy to report the tandem of Tenedos and Damascus have been dealt with. You’re welcome. I took the liberty of cleaning up their loose ends, to avoid local investigative complications with our Brotherhood.” He gestured to the blood-stained floors, where the largest two concentrations of blood in a room of abject carnage was pouring between floorboards, leaving an ever-thinning puddle in their wake.

    Bullshit. Nothing here feels right.

    Storm paused for a moment. His instinct was distrust, but was he sure? Shinsou trusted Arius implicitly. How would this stranger have known where to go before he could get here? Who gave him authorization to kill the assassins, before their intentions were made clear? And since when did the city manager have magic? Sneering, Veritas felt his nostrils flare as all signs were pointing to the man before him.

    “Relax.” Arius continued, barely looking up from the back of his hand as he smirked with confidence. “I can see your simple brain connecting the dots, we can cut to the chase. You two failed the Brotherhood in Radasanth, at the moment of our greatest opportunity. The Castigars should be sitting around the Council table of Radasanth Square, not squabbling for table scraps.”

    Storm’s eyes pulsed white as his rage grew with the same exponential fury that had leveled literally hundreds of Radasanthian guards atop the western wall of Radasanth. He wouldn’t give Arius another word, and instead held up his hand to unleash hell.

    Nothing.

    Aghast, Veritas literally stumbled back at his sealed magic, a baby deer upon newfound legs. Arius merely smiled again, rubbing his thumb over the shining red jewel in his ring.

    “I told you to relax, young man. Those lovely powers of yours have a place in the new world. Unfortunately, Shinsou was the merciful one; I knew that despite his power, his empathy would be our undoing. You can still be a hurricane, but for Vaan Osiris wastes his immense abilities whenever a friendly face throws doe-eyes at him.”

    Storm had experienced enough of this. He had the kris dagger in his left hand, behind his back, and wouldn’t give Mephisto a moment to catch himself. With the speed of the cobra, the wizard whipped the knife across the room, through the smoky white cloud where Arius had just stood, before bouncing harmlessly off the door and sticking in the floor.

    He had been bested, and there could only be one place that Arius was going. To finish the job. Storm moved to pick up the harmless looking knife, sheathing it in spite of shaking hands. His legs wobbled with fear and helplessness, as he struggled to soldier forth for the window once more. He had to create the mask of a bold face as he ventured out towards the spot that would need him to race.

    Shinsou.

  5. #15
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    GP
    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
    Race
    Telgradian
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

    View Profile
    Rhovani’s ghost hadn’t yet withered when Shinsou stepped out of the smog of cloudy grey that enveloped their dreamscape. His breath, hot and heady, steamed from his cracked lips into the mists that wreathed the illusory road ahead and sighed.

    “I don’t know how I got here, why I’m here, or even why you’re here,” Feeling their business was done, the Telgradian’s brown boots began to tread a crisp path away from the woman, who listened as Shinsou moved towards foothills on the horizon, “…but I do know this; this isn’t real, you aren’t real, and I don’t need the opinions of a phantom. I don’t belong here.”

    He hadn’t a clue why he had decided to walk in that direction; perhaps something was subconsciously urging him to escape the hallucination that way, but nonetheless the Telgradian walked on as the beautiful form of the girl melted into the ether. Perhaps ten minutes after leaving Rhovani, he came to a sudden halt in the middle of the road. Beneath the scent of the heavy fog, beneath the aroma of barren lands, he caught the fleetest whiff of something else.

    Blood.

    There was a sudden, jarring disconnect with this strange world. The synapses in his brain wouldn’t let him place exactly what was wrong, but Shinsou felt a sudden jolt of pain in his chest, as if someone had slid a meat hook under his skin and was trying to hoist his body up via winch. He cried out in full voice; his scream of agony reverberating around the Telgradian wastes, and sunk to his knees. In the same movement he swiped at the invisible hook that tore at his chest, but could not get to the source of his pain. It was then Shinsou heard it; his heartbeat echoing, the world around him suddenly wordless and silent. Grey tendrils snaked through the world of formless fog that surrounded him before.

    It was then that a white-cloaked figure rose from the shadows of the roadside. His familiar eyes gazed coldly at the Telgradian, but his otherwise masked features remained stoic.

    “Arius?”


    ***

    “Leave us,” Arius Mephisto declared to the Tylmerande medical staff, perching his wiry frame so that he sat at the same height as the bloodstained guerney. Without a second thought, the physicians quickly exited the room and left the wounded and drugged Shinsou Vaan Osiris in his care.

    Seasoned and stained with centuries of spilled blood, the oak boards of the small medical facility’s floor groaned beneath the chair Mephisto leaned back on as he clutched the rudimentary chest drain pipe that had been set up to clear the Telgradian’s bullet wound. Having once been a medical student himself, Arius recognized the impressive amount of equipment that such a small town had at its disposal, and tapped the rubber-like pipe to show his appreciation.

    “This really is cutting edge equipment, Shinsou. All Brotherhood funded, no doubt,” Gazing down, the right hand man could see the small hooks that attached the pipe to the anesthetized flesh of his leader, “It’s a shame it’s been squandered on you; there were far more at Radasanth deserving of its use. How many countless men died for our cause that could have used these facilities? Those people believed in the better world we were going to build, a world you threw away. You waste men, and you wasted our hopes. For what? The Faun? Storm? An easy peace? A quiet life?”

    A simple tug at the apparatus encouraged a sea of red to leak from the barely conscious Shinsou’s bared chest. His cheeks, like pitted coal, clenched in slumber. Heaved air left his lungs as his heart sped up, trying to compensate for the blood loss. Funneling the his voice into the Telgradian’s ear, he slipped into spider-like tones as Mephisto drew closer, holding the bloodied, disconnected line in his right hand.

    “This is the end of the line, my friend. We won’t allow you, or Storm, to demolish what we’ve built.”

    He had entertained his own ego long enough. Arius knew Storm would soon be coming, and he knew further pronouncements would only serve to undo him. The blood-streaked hands of the Telgradian lay limply by their owner’s side as Mephisto finally stood, eyes locked onto the breathing tube that was maintaining Shinsou’s life, and started to methodically dismantle the apparatus. Tempered blue eyes watched as the metal connections between the air pipe failed, and a satisfying hiss echoed through the room. He upended half a cup of sterile liquid as the wily man spun to pull apart the last pieces of the medical equipment sustaining Shinsou vaan Osiris. There were no leering snickers accompanying his actions as he went; just a cold, matter-of-fact silence.

    There was no need for a show. The Telgradian would soon be dead and Arius would be long gone before Storm got to him.

  6. #16
    Ride The Lightning

    EXP: 166,794, Level: 17
    Level completed: 83%, EXP required for next Level: 3,206
    Level completed: 83%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,206


    Storm Veritas's Avatar

    GP
    25,550

    Name
    Storm Veritas
    Age
    39
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Well, at least you know the way.

    Storm Veritas had grown old and haggard, but the magic-infused adventurer still had the ability to move like almost none other. The disappearance of Mephisto was simple enough; there was only one person that bald bastard would be going to visit. The wizard’s pursuit was not one of an old and broken limp, but rather a desperate dash. He started moving out of the smallish edifice, the crowd having gathered around terrified by his movement. The three-deep row circle of human stupidity that surrounded the stucco structure had begun to part like a paper slowly being torn apart, but the electromancer had no time for patience. From his low sprint, he bolted forward, lunging upward and driving his foot off the shoulder of some slow-moving mouth breather. There was a gasp and a collection of groans and yells at the rude maneuver, but nothing that would register above his singular focus. He would return to Shinsou, and he would kill Mephisto.

    He’s a talker. Egomaniacs always talk. You’ve got a few seconds, even with his teleporting bullshit.

    The sprint was fast and liquid, his movements smooth, fluid, and driving muddy earth behind him with each pounding foot. Cleverly, he decided to fly there, using his metal soled-shoes to his advantage. With a strong electric pulse under-toe, he was catapulted fifty feet ahead, at a speed that was simply astonishing. He repeated this move through the street three or four times, rocketing ahead and accumulating speed. His knees and hips ached at the force; the old body yielding at the joints and tendons. The final burst sent him rocketing into the closed front door of the small hospital, shattering the wood and sending a dull ache all across the right side of his body, which he had narrowly pivoted to absorb the impact. The wave of pain was fast coming, but there was no time to reflect.

    Instead, horrified employees merely yelped at the splintering by their front door, their eyes darting back and forth from the front door to the room some twenty feet ahead on his right. Without a word, the tired wizard huffed forward, his lungs burning as he came ahead low and smoothly. From the corridor, he could see only a vacant section of Shinsou’s room, but the explosive entrance had certainly betrayed any opportunity for surprise. One exasperated nurse, a pretty but chubby blonde, held the flat of her hand up to Storm, holding two fingers down by the flat edge as a signal. Silently, an appreciative nod to the brave little ball of dough.

    He’s against the wall. Ambush.

    Unsure of Shinsou’s position, the notion of blasting the entire room to liquid hell with his electricity was out, so Veritas opted for a simpler solution. His heart still racing, he leapt ahead, tumbling nimbly into the room in a neat somersault. Crossing the threshold he was met with nothing but the smell of rubbing alcohol, followed by a sizzle-crack of lightning that had just missed above him. Spinning on the floor, Storm Veritas pushed forward a hand to pulse his own sizzling electric justice at Mephisto. Unfortunately, nothing was produced.

    SHIT! Too many of those burst-jumps must have worn me down. Just a few seconds should do it.

    Arius Mephisto looked down his aquiline nose with a wide and twisted grin, his bald head shining by the nearby gaslight. His hands had been outstretched, lowered to his waist, and he stepped forward slightly as he readjusted the large ring on his left hand with a sneer.

    “Impressive speed for an old man. If you had been that brave in Radasanth, we’d be sipping wine in the Capitol, wouldn’t we?!” The speech was deliberate, controlled, and gentle, a sort of relaxed tone unbefitting the situation. Even more foolishly, he had stepped in front of a doctor’s table, putting himself between Storm Veritas and a tray full of sharp and pointy metal things.

    Goddamned amateurs. Not everyone deserves this gift.

    Storm reached his fingers out now, a few seconds rest restoring his strength to pull the scalpel through the monologuing fool. Arius’s eyebrows arched with surprise horror, only to be followed by a return to the same snarl.

    “Nice try, but I’m a whole host of horrors you didn’t bother to check in on. No one uses magic on my watch but me. You two were too damned busy staring in mirrors and running from battle to see my growth; I’ve been stronger every day since that meteor missed us. Your time is OVER!”

    He fired another bolt at the greying magician, who leapt to his left to escape disaster. Without his magic propulsion, Storm was slower now, feeling a horrible burn in his left ankle as he rolled behind the bed which held a still unconscious but visibly very much alive Shinsou. Unintentionally, he had put his friend in the crossfire. Worse, getting hit with lightning fucking hurts.

    “I was just disconnecting a couple tubes here and there, figured I’d leave an easier cleanup over here for the orderlies. Figured Shin had at least tried, so I’d put him away gently. I guess not.” Arius was taunting now as Storm peeked under the bed, spying his toes turned to Vaan Osiris.

    Got to hurt him and get him away.

    It was a poor plan, but the only one available, and Storm kicked over the bedside table opposite Mephisto. He then lunged under the bed as the shattering porcelain lamp caught Arius’ attention, slashing feebly at the ankles of his newfound enemy. The [i]kriss[i] dagger had found its way into Storm’s hands almost automatically, and did a nice job of carving a single crimson mark across the front of both shins. Arius instinctively stepped back, assessing the superficial damage. Sliding out from the bed on the side of Arius, Storm swiped once more as he rolled forward, missing as he tumbled into the hallway off his right foot. Another vicious blast of that sweet, sweet electricity rocked the doorjamb behind him, sending a splinter of wood into the skin on his back.

    There was no time to create distance to escape Mephisto’s seal, and no way to get near enough to him to save Shinsou. The end had come.
    Last edited by Storm Veritas; 09-26-2019 at 09:32 PM.

  7. #17
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

    GP
    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
    Race
    Telgradian
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    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    Arius wiped his beaten brow with a white sleeve soaked with the Telgradian’s blood, a memento for his hand in Shinsou's 'surgery', and stood menacingly over the exhausted Storm Veritas with a slight smirk. Today had been an excellent day. It had come sooner than expected, but he was holding all of the cards, including the card that told you how to play. The electromancer lay broken at his feet; perhaps not physically, but spiritually. He could tell. Those determined, resolute eyes no longer burned with defiance, but dimmed in defeat as his friend Shinsou slowly bled to death, out of reach, on the gurney. As Arius knelt beside the finery clad wizard, mindful of his own cut shins, he extended out his fist and pressed the Castigar signet hard into Storm’s cheek as a final insult, gritting his teeth between words.

    “Beneath the bluster, and the bravado, you’re just a bag of fucking meat,” Arius whispered into Veritas’s ear, “Take the greatest mage, strip away their power and what remains? Watch as they try to cope, and you’ll see nothing more than a mere man, woman…a child. ”

    A click of his fingers caused the cramped medical room to erupt with an ear-splitting crack, as the portal from earlier tore itself open. On command, dozens of red needles burst into life from the recesses of the ocean blue membrane as a crude imitation of Shinsou’s Enpera Kurohitsugi made itself known. The sudden summoning of crimson lances hung, frozen, within the portal, awaiting a command. Storm’s soured expression told Arius everything he wanted to hear.

    “I was going to wait, but I thought it’d be a fitting end. This is Shinsou’s favourite spell, no? A tribute, so to-”

    Before he could finish the sentence, an object dropped at his feet with a sickening thunk. It was a single, fleshy digit with a silver signet ring adorning its base.

    His digit, with his ring.

    The pain didn’t come instantly; a side-effect of the anti-interrogation “escape and evade” techniques that he had learned during his time in the Brotherhood to become more resistant to torture, but after a second or two the former number two screamed. It felt like his whole right hand had been dipped in molten lava, and as he instinctively tried to grab at the wound, he heard the sizzle of scolding flesh and instantly pulled back. Arius’s left hand had just wrapped around something caustic, and as a sickly smouldering odour filled the air and waves of nauseating pain flowed and ebbed through his arms, his eyes swivelled to meet the pale, surprisingly awake face of Shinsou Vaan Osiris staring hazily up at him with unfocused, dreary and fatigued eyes. Arius’s features twisted into a feral snarl, the single blade of dark matter from the Telgradian’s shaking hand still glistening, slick and wet from his blood.

    “You…” Shinsou said, voice trembling as he struggled for air and fought unconsciousness, “…cunt…”

    Deliberately, as quickly as he could summon the energy to do so, Storm took the opportunity to kick low, knocking the severed finger and iron bangle back under Shinsou’s blood-soaked gurney. The electromancer almost crumbled with the effort it took out of his body.

    “This isn’t over; seal or no,” Arius replied, languid and arrogant. Through vision that seemed as if everything he could see was an oil painting that had run, Shinsou noticed his former friend’s features seemed more twisted than before, somehow sculpted to be more intimidating than he had previously appeared. His eyes glinted with a deep green hue; angry in the portal’s light. For all purposes he might have been a ghost, or a spectre, save for the blood dripping down his side that glistened very, very real.

    Slowly, and with a scream, Arius peeled away from the dark matter blade that had pinned him in place and quickly spun. Shinsou’s involuntary gasp, as the force of the movement jarred his muscles and caused more blood to seep from his grievous wound, harboured both agony and fear. He grimaced, clutching at his chest as he tried to grasp the final throes of consciousness, not really knowing his own life hung delicately in the balance.

    “You’re going nowhere, you traitorous shit!” Storm cried at his adversary, drunkenly sliding his splintered body up the emulsioned wall of the room in attempt to right himself. Without his ring, Arius would be vulnerable, and Veritas knew he only had a split second to act. “You’re done. I will…”

    “Too late.” Arius interrupted him, winking lightly as Shinsou’s arms fell to his side, limp and frightened. Storm’s gaze flicked from him to the Telgradian, and there it froze as the mortality of their situation became ever more apparent. Taking advantage of the electromancer’s hesitance immediately, Arius quickly stepped away from them, his feet light upon the blood-slickened wood panels, and the dozens of gleaming needles hanging in the portal immediately gave way to his body. The ageing wizard caught on to his sudden move to escape, tried to move trickily, almost slithering in front of the portal ahead of Arius, but lost a step as the fatigue in his legs folded his muscles.

    A final desperate shout echoed throughout the room, but as Arius phased through the gateway and snapped out of reality, the pair were suddenly all alone.

  8. #18
    Ride The Lightning

    EXP: 166,794, Level: 17
    Level completed: 83%, EXP required for next Level: 3,206
    Level completed: 83%,
    EXP required for next Level: 3,206


    Storm Veritas's Avatar

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    25,550

    Name
    Storm Veritas
    Age
    39
    Race
    Human
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    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Everything had happened quickly to the wizard, who now lay supine on the wooden floor with his hands resting on his temples, fingers intertwined in the sweat-soaked silver that lay above his head. The thin hands were riddled with veins; Storm would reason it was the gift of dehydration that afforded this appearance, ignoring the elephant in the room that he had grown old while no one was looking. Arius was so close; a younger, quicker version of himself would have recovered his magic and blasted the traitorous wretch into a blackened spray of meat, bone and burnt hair. It was only now, moments later, that he could feel the magic finally returning stronger with each rapid thump of his heart.

    Damned lot that does you now.

    “You’re welcome…” a weak voice offered from the bed above. Shinsou had reawakened, through some fortunate combination of magic and pain-induced shock. Veritas stood to see his old running mate, and his eyes betrayed an attempt at optimism. Shinsou had been bled significantly; long slashes in the arms and legs and across the belly. Arius had been filleting him before the wizard arrived.

    Shinsou offered a weak smile as his friend’s hand came over to rest on his shoulder. Bandages wrapped the parts of him that were wounded by the old gunfire, but he would need to be wrapped for the tomb to give him sufficient coverage to bind his fresh wounds.

    “Hang tight. I can cauterize the fresh cuts, but I can’t have you passing out from the pain. Already lost you once.” Storm spun to the door, his tenor changing entirely as he yelled at the terrified employees of the little hospital.

    ”We’re clear in here! We need help, have an injured man! HELP!”

    A few brave eyes slowly appeared around the entrance of the room where the little war had been waged. The nurse was scared, but the eyes of Storm Veritas told her that she was welcomed and needed. Peering around the room once more, she stepped through the doorway, gasping at the wreckage of a man that was before her on the bed. Barely five feet tall, the dark skinned woman of sixty-ish waddled quickly as she hollered.

    “Ginna! Bailey! Stephens! Hurry!” her small, sharp voice registered her urgency as she raced to reconnect tubes and little wires and fluids. She scrambled with bandages, asking Storm to compress wounds before a couple of other orderlies arrived to assist. A flurry of questions, tests, chest compressions and breaths. They would scramble, piercing Veritas with a needle and a tube that ran from his arm to his friend. The scarlet fluid flowed quickly, the thin, watery blood devoid of any little flickers of fluorescence or visible magic that they had secretly hoped to see. Time passed quickly, and it would be morning when Shinsou would wake up to a familiar voice.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Thank you.” Storm bit his lip to avoid a tremble in his voice; Vaan Osiris was still barely a whiter shade than the bedsheet had once been. Even by Telgradian standards, Shinsou looked like a wraith. Still, the friends had been through horrors, and knew what each could endure.

    “Seriously, thank you.” Storm continued, grinning wickedly as he looked down, gently tapping his back for the splinter that was fortunately big enough to get his fingers on. With a quick pull and a grunt, it was out. “I was laying there, thinking how old and slow and weak these old bones have gotten. It softens the blow to stand and see you here, looking like you died six months ago.”

    “Also, you were in a pinch there, talking all sorts of High Telgradian nonsense and about to bleed out. They asked me a bunch of questions and ended up giving you my blood. If it burns when you pee, you’re welcome.”

    A slightly heartier laugh came from the bed, and the men would talk. Cleaning crews would work, kind nurses checking and bringing food, and the pair discussed Mephisto. Shinsou knew him far better, filling in Storm with some background and details. Police would come, debating on how to do their job in the eyes of the Lords of the city, balancing an air of responsibility with not bothering their ultimate bosses.

    Whatever. Do your jobs. Train your people better. Lock this place up.

    Storm cared little for Tylermande as the sun poured in the window to the room where so much blood had been spilled. His friend was alive, and that was good. Arius Mephisto was alive, and that was bad.

    …And that is temporary.

  9. #19
    Viator Mundi

    EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
    Level completed: 18%, EXP required for next Level: 14,892
    Level completed: 18%,
    EXP required for next Level: 14,892


    Shinsou Vaan Osiris's Avatar

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    7,753

    Name
    Shinsou Vaan Osiris
    Age
    34
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    Telgradian
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    Male
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    Corone

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    Three days later

    Ginna once again changed the bandages and got the puckered flesh underneath back under control with a couple of stitches, but Shinsou really didn’t care about the bullet wound anymore. The Telgradian's worrying about his own wellbeing had its limits, and those were reached the moment Arius's betrayal had not only been directed at him, but also towards the lithe electromancer who had put himself in harm's way to save his sorry backside. Luckily, Storm was an altogether different breed; able to not only keep that bastard Mephisto at bay long enough for the Telgradian to wake up, but also smart enough to save his life with a blood transfusion.

    As he turned his head to look at his friend, who was busy filling his pipe with cherry tobacco with every intention of disregarding the public health rules, Shinsou hid a smile. When they had first met, Osiris hadn't taken to him well; he was regularly drunk, out of shape, cold and selfish. He had never doubted the man's deadly abilities, but had been concerned about how fruitful a partnership based entirely on money and power could be, especially one with a person of Storm's infamous approach to life.

    But then, something changed. As time passed, the Telgradian saw something underneath that whiskey soaked cotton-guard of insecurities. Beneath all of the finery, the money, the hustling, the shit-eating grins and the womanising, there was something that set this man apart from anyone else. Firstly, he was truly powerful. Shinsou often felt that staring into his eyes was like staring into the heart of the Tap, and although he was loathe to admit it the Telgradian was some way away from Storm's true level. He knew his friend often thought himself as ageing into the obsolete, but the Telgradian knew only the opposite was true. Secondly, there was a tremendous amount of loyalty rooted deep beneath the façade of misogyny and chauvinism. Shinsou never got much chance to discuss personal matters with Storm, but he knew that the electromancer had very few personal friends and was lucky enough to count himself amongst them.

    That thought immediately led the Telgradian to darker ponderings as his thoughts fled to the pain that Arius had inflicted on them both and the humiliation he had inflicted on their Brotherhood. Still struggling to equalize his hasty breathing from the pain of his wound, Shinsou sat up on his bed and spoke to Storm, who was now leaning out of a window to puff.

    "He's declared war on us. Unluckily for him, we've got his ring, and I'm not going to stop hunting that little shit until he's just a puddle of grease and regret at our feet. Anyone who tries to stop us..."

    "Yeah," Storm muttered under a breath of sweet vapour, "I've seen that look in your eyes before. We'll nail him, don't you worry."

    Veritas could see it in the Telgradian's face. What he felt now was rage, but not an outwardly violent manifestation of it. No; this was a seething, simmering anger that lay beneath the surface. Right now, everything could burn and crumble to ash around him if it meant he got to have a stab at Mephisto. The man had made Shinsou look a fool for trusting him, and had humiliated him. That was a mistake.

    “That reminds me,” Shinsou tried to sit up further, rubbing his hand over his aching chest, "You saw that dagger, right? The one you cut him with? He was holding onto that for you. It's a gift from me; one of a pair. I was going to give them to you before our card game got interrupted for this shit."

    A whiff of wind swept over them from the window as Shinsou beckoned for one of the nurses to hand him a pouch from a nearby dresser. As he unbuttoned the black leather, the Telgradian drew the pair of silver Kris daggers out, twirling them, before offering them hilt sides to Storm.

    “These are Senkei weapons,” he said, looking up at his face. “Much like my Enpera, they will bond with you over time. I had them tailored to you, so they have a particular affinity with electricity, but I have no idea how their powers will develop; that bit is up to the wielder. These weapons don't exist outside of Telgradia, and you are the first person to receive one who isn't of the blood, so don't fucking break them or melt them down into dental fillings.”

    Storm seemed reluctant at first, but after another gust of wind swept through the medical bay, nodded his appreciation and holstered them. After another set of instructions came from the nurse about his pain medication, a messenger knocked on the door and greeted Shinsou with a letter, all the while being glared into oblivion by the electromancer.

    "Can't you see he's resting? Get the fuck out of here! Whatever it is can wait." Veritas said, his eyes not at all betraying his ferocious snarl.

    "It's okay, Storm," Shinsou raised an apologetic hand, "I'll read it."

    As the Telgradian sat on the edge of his bed while all the necessary items were procured by the attending nurse, Shinsou's eyes flitted from word to word hastily. Before long, the letter was folded back into neat quarters and placed on the dresser.

    “Philomel heard about what happened here, and is assigning me one of her "Gilded Quint" as my bodyguard as a 'gesture of goodwill', which according to the terms of the armistice with the Assembly, I have no choice on,” Shinsou said, struggling to contain his annoyance. "Who is leaking this shit up north? Can nobody keep their fucking mouth shut?"

    “In other words, she and the assembly want to keep an eye on us after what happened at Radasanth. That's my guess.” It didn't take Storm three seconds to point out the obvious. "I wonder how she'll react when she finds out there's a rogue Brotherhood murdering wizard on the loose?"

    “Well, I can't wait to find out." Shinsou said, sarcasm marinating his tone. He got up and stood beside Veritas, clapping a hand on his back as the pair looked out of the window to dusk’s orange glow. "I don't think we'll be getting a certificate of commendation from Radasanth, though."

    As it poured out across the shimmering seas that lay beyond the piers and fishing boats, Shinsou's mind could only focus on Arius Mephisto. Where was he now, and what was the piece of scum up to? There was no way of knowing when, but the Telgradian knew their paths would cross again soon. When they did, he would be sure to pay the bastard back ten fold for what he had done.

  10. #20
    upon the cheek of night

    EXP: 224,444, Level: 20
    Level completed: 0%, EXP required for next Level: 0
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    Breaker's Avatar

    GP
    38,725

    Name
    Joshua Breaker Cronen
    Age
    30
    Race
    Demigod
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Thread Name: Old dogs, new tricks.
    Thread Type: Quest
    Participants: Shinsou Vaan Osiris and Storm Veritas
    Full Rubric Judgment

    Opening Remarks
    Another dynamic adventure from Althanas' family friendly, feel-good odd couple!

    Just kidding. I really enjoyed the liquor-swilling, card-playing opening and the mysterious nature of the cat-and-mouse game that followed. Can I use more hyphens? No, no I cannot. My favorite aspect of this thread was the characters and the way you brought them to life, but more on that later!

    Plot: 21/30
    Overall the plot felt powerful and well developed. I don't know how much planning you put into this, but it seemed as though you definitely put some forethought and preparation into this storyline. Points where I think you could improve include setting the tone and managing pacing. The gunshot came as a complete surprise to me, which may have been your intent, but I feel it would have been better served with a little more foreshadowing. As for the pacing, it was smooth at times but got rocky through the action sequences, so I'll touch more on that later.

    Story: 7/10
    Story is definitely a strength for both of you; you both know how to spin a compelling yarn, and your unique skillsets complement each other well. The reveal of the big bad perpetrator was well executed, especially by comparison to the gunshot, which as I mentioned seemed to come out of nowhere. On that note, while the intro was completely in character and enjoyable to read it took rather too long to get to the hook. Up until the gunshot, I was honestly wondering if this was just going to be a thread about how cool Shin and Storm are (which I probably still would have enjoyed). That said, a little foreboding in the air would have gone a long way to setting up the shot, and I think you could have found an inciting incident earlier in the story.

    Setting: 8/10
    Another strength for both of you, and one of the most enjoyable factors about this story. It did an excellent job of playing in and around current Althanas events, and bringing elements of the world to life. I felt immersed in the scenery as the characters moved from the one spot to the next, and those transitions were executed smoothly. You also did a superb job of using setting interaction to demonstrate the force of your characters' abilities. Even Shinsou's time spent outside of reality was well written, which can be a difficult task (after all, how do you write a lack of setting?).

    The two things that stopped this score from being higher were the fact that your descriptions bogged the action down at times, and there were a few references that seemed a bit outside the context of Corone. For example, after Shin is injured Storm refers to him being kept alive by some "incredible machines". The presence of a firearm was somewhat surprising as well, although a little more common place. In any case, I think it would have benefited the thread to include some explanation as to the origin of these technologies, even if just a passing reference to dark elves. This thread was very Corone/Brotherhood focused, which is fine, but you don't get top scores without being a bit ambitious.

    Pacing: 6/10
    Still a strong area generally, but definitely the weakest in this category. As I mentioned above the main action took too long to get going, and once things did get rolling they got bogged down on occasion by meaty descriptions that did a lot of telling instead of showing. I'll grab a couple examples to show you what I mean:

    Quote Originally Posted by Storm
    It was only a few moments later that the door from the room adjacent to Shinsou’s unfortunate quarters was opened again. The door opened in with a gentle creak, exposing the wizard who had finished his interrogative work. He appeared a bimodal disaster; well dressed with sharp creases in his suit offset by his hair uncharacteristically messy, sweat stains forming in the center of his chest and at his armpits. Most notably, blood was spattered across his clothing in seemingly errant streaks, six or seven slashes of crimson and battery orange-brown across his knuckles, suit, and shoes. There was no sound behind him coming from the room, the fate of the salesmen seemed to have been terrible.
    This is just one thick paragraph of the narrator telling the reader information. You start off by mentioning that the door opened twice before introducing the subject of that action, Storm. Most of what follows is passive, adjective-filled description that does nothing to move the plot forward. It's fine to do a little review at the beginning of a post to throw the reader a bone, but you could have done so much more effectively with one or two succinct sentences.

    Quote Originally Posted by Shinsou
    The portal behind the cloaked enigma died away with a whimper. Outside, heavy, cumbersome rainclouds had rolled in from the north and before long raindrops heavily rang a thousand staccato beats across the Tylmerande architecture. Damascus shuffled uncomfortably as the sound of an arcane hum grew ever louder, and Tenedos bounced on his heels as the vibrations of unknown magics started to manifest all around him. It was power, raw power, stemming from their employer. The hooded figure momentarily closed his eyes, shut out the empty pit in his stomach and focused on the pair in front of him, enough that when he spoke, it came out with a straight, unwavering voice.
    There's some really pretty descriptive language in here, but it's delivered fairly clumsily. First sentence? Beautiful. Second sentence? Triply redundant. Heavy, cumbersome, and heavily all mean the same thing in this context, and you're doubling and tripling up on adjectives where strong verbs would suit you so much better. Also I had to re-read the last sentence of this paragraph a couple times because you refer to his voice as "it" without being clear what "it" refers to.

    Character: 23/30
    You both know your characters very well, and it shows in every interaction and piece of dialogue. I really enjoyed getting to see these two (anti?)heroes put through the ringer, but I do have a few pointers so I'll get on to the categories.

    Communication: 9/10
    Without a doubt the strongest aspect of the writing from both of you. Both of your main characters, and even Arius and most of the secondary cast had distinctive enough ways of talking that I might have guessed who was speaking without needing the tags. You both use external and internal dialogue well with consistent vocabularies, and also employ strong elements of body language to bolster the things your characters say.

    Since I just finished raking you over the coals in the last category, let's highlight some of your finer moments as well:

    Quote Originally Posted by Storm
    Can’t let them reach the west gate; they won’t stay covered for long. Shit, they could be long gone by now. You waited too long.
    I love the decisive darkening of his thoughts in this passage. At first we have a glimmer of hope, but then a cloud of solidifying smog obscures it, hardened with a helping of self-blame. Well done.

    Quote Originally Posted by Shin
    “I don’t know how I got here, why I’m here, or even why you’re here,” Feeling their business was done, the Telgradian’s brown boots began to tread a crisp path away from the woman, who listened as Shinsou moved towards foothills on the horizon, “…but I do know this; this isn’t real, you aren’t real, and I don’t need the opinions of a phantom. I don’t belong here.”
    The last two sentences are utterly Shinsou; I can't think of a character more likely to express disdain towards a ghost's audacity. The use of Arius was also very strong and consistent across both of your posts.

    Action: 6/10
    There were moments of action that I really enjoyed, because you both know your characters so well there are bound to be beautiful segments of motion. But for the most part I felt like the physical action dragged, especially by comparison to the dialogue.

    Quote Originally Posted by Storm
    Fury drove the old wizard, who found himself moving with purpose and a swiftness he hadn’t felt in ten years.
    This is a great example because everything before the comma is great and everything afterwards is not so great. Firstly, anytime you say something like "who found himself" you need to consider reordering your phrasing. You could just as easily have said "who moved" and it would have been an improvement. Second, you go on to describe a powerful physical action with multiple adjectives and no verbs (I'm not counting felt.) I'd be much more interested to hear about his feet impacting the ground, his heart thundering in his chest etc than the fact that he's moving with "purpose and a swiftness". Instead of telling me what he's doing, show me what it looks, feels, and sounds like.

    Quote Originally Posted by Shin
    Deliberately, as quickly as he could summon the energy to do so, Storm took the opportunity to kick low, knocking the severed finger and iron bangle back under Shinsou’s blood-soaked gurney. The electromancer almost crumbled with the effort it took out of his body.
    Similar issues here; the last sentence is strong except for the word "almost". Excepting cases where things need to literally almost happen, you should pretty much strike that from your non-dialogue vocabulary in prose. There's no reason Storm couldn't have actually crumbled here (it might have been more poignant) or he could have done something slightly less dramatic like sagging against the wall. The very first part of the first sentence is the big problem. It starts with an adjective, which doesn't provide any information until after the reader gets to the subject of the sentence. "Quickly" is another word which you should avoid using 95% of the time, it's an especially weak adjective which actually does the opposite of what what it's supposed to do. Any time you use the word "quickly" it takes the reader longer to get to what actually happens, which means the pacing is slower. It's almost like saying "very". And Storm didn't need to "take the opportunity" to kick low... he should have just kicked low.

    Persona: 8/10
    Very strong here again, although at times the same types of problems that weakened your action got in the way of really fluid personas. If you guys had applied the same type of focus and execution to your scene writing as you did to your dialogue, setting, and story then this thread would have definitely been in the JC range. As it is I have a feeling it will fall a bit shy, but I hope that will do the opposite of discourage you. The dedication that you both bring to your characters and your use of language is really remarkable and enjoyable to read.

    Prose: 22/30

    Mechanics: 7/10
    The biggest thing I noticed was that Storm had a broken italics tag in one of his posts. Other than that there weren't a lot of errors, but I did notice more than you can get away with (which is pretty much zero). If you're not proofreading each others posts you really should, and remember to read back out loud to yourselves when editing.

    Clarity: 7/10
    While I could make the argument that everything was quite clear generally speaking, the lags in the pacing and action hampered my overall picture of the story at times. In order to get to the next level, you both need to take a closer look at how you're writing action, specifically with more showing, less telling, and less adjectives. A good example which I already referenced is Storm saying that the door opened twice before letting the reader know who opened it. I can't think of a good reason to write a phrase that way other than that that's how it initially occurred to you... but that's what review and editing is for.

    Technique: 7/10
    I went back and forth between a 7 and 8 here because you both create really beautiful imagery. However I don't feel like you're executing all of your your literary devices at the highest level; in order to do so, pay careful attention to my advice earlier on. Get rid of meaningless commas, phrases, and words and you'll be left with lean, expertly crafted prose.

    Wildcard: 8/10
    I apologize if the commentary is a little light towards the end, but the truth is you're both advanced writers who need to go back to the basics in order to achieve high-level improvement. If it seems like I'm saying things you've heard before, it's probably because you've gotten a little too comfortable breaking some of the rules that govern strong writing. There's nothing wrong with a little passive voice or purple prose here or there, but if those elements start to take over the story or get used in the wrong places, it brings down the overall quality of the piece and a reader's ability to enjoy it.

    In the end though, a fantastic story well woven. I wish you would let me in on more of your epic planning sessions. No fair no fair.

    Total 76/100

    Shinsou gains 2500 EXP and 160 GP
    Storm gains 2400 EXP and 150 GP

    Congratulations, and thank you for writing on Althanas! Lets make some more adventures.
    "The breeze did not stir. The stars did not twinkle. The trees did not sway and the brook did not babble.
    For the world did not turn when Am'aleh wept, and a tear had tumbled down her cheek."


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