Tournament of Champions 3 (The game has begun!)

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  • edited August 2020
    Summary
          
    Storyline cards.

    Name:
     Aeryn Nox Lockhart
    Age: 24

    During you life: Studies (14 to 20 years)

    During her years of study, Aeryn tried to find information about Nyrea, without much success. Some information was collected.
    • It had been 35 years since the last woman to reach the elite level.
    • Nyrea's last record of manipulation was 145 years ago by a knight known as Mikhail, the Red One.
    • In the oldest book with sword registers there was a word that Aeryn was unable to decipher. "Planinauta" was the word.
    ...
    During the few days off, Aeryn went to the library to try to find clues about the past of the famous cavalry sword. The most recent books had been consulted thousands of times and had nothing but poetry and stories for children to sleep. Nyrea did not have her name spelled out in many books.
    Months later Aeryn began to study the books, which was already the furthest part of the knights' library. There he finally got some information.
    '' What are you doing here, Aeryn? '' Said Casimir, sitting across from Aeryn. That part of the library was empty.
    '' I'm looking for something about Nyrea. I was able to find something about its last bearer, '' Aeryn shifted the book towards Casimir. '' He was called Mikhail. He was a brutal knight and acted on impetus. As kind as he was, he always acted alone. See, some poorly made arts show the sword with fire powers. ''
    "That's weird," said Casimir. '' Don't you think Nyrea is a cursed sword? I am afraid that one day they will be able to break the curse and an impetuous spirit leave. Nyrea has seen only disgrace and blood for centuries. I suspect that nothing good can come of it, no matter how much the knights exalt it.
    "I'm also suspicious about that power," Aeryn shrugged. "That's exactly why I prefer to keep her away from these books. Her powers are unique and go beyond the runes. ''

    ...
    "Look what I found, Aeryn," Casimir sat next to her. ''Do you know that word? ''Planinauta''. Here he reports that this type of entity has not been seen for centuries at that time and many seek rituals to forge and invoke that entity. But they always failed. They used artifacts as receptacles to contain the apparition, which they were unable to see. ''
    "That's weird, but I don't think it fits here," snapped Aeryn.
    "Don't worry, I'll leave that information stuck in my mind.", Smiled confidently Casimir.

    ...
    Aeryn leaned over the books.
    ''I give up''
    At that moment a book fell showing the best art ever drawn of the sword and talked a little about the ancient language for some runes carved into the sword.
    "Then what to say that it is from one of those runes that the ancients called it Nyrea ... And look at Casimir, the opposite meaning of the reading" forged by the runes ". It sure is a very strange one. They have not finished deciphering the other runes. Whether or not Nyrea is an old sword and has fought hard. Many of the spellings are no longer readable in them. ''
    Aeryn was tired, picked up the book and slept right there.

    (I imagine you already noticed, but come on (laughing) - Aeryn writing backwards becomes Nyrea. I still don't know what I'm going to do with this info, but I'll try to create something :) )

  • edited August 2020
    (but also ... @Jonteman93  great storytelling! :smile: I'll keep reading for sure.)
  • @TerryTags I loved your character so much! I'm really sad to see Graagdord and Gorchi go.
  • Match 8 - Fight?
    @shadow123 vs @Aggroman15
     VS                                         


    "A game of defense. Could this even be called a match at all?"
    At the beginning of the fight, Nilani had almost gotten excited to fight against such a cunning opponent as Jay. She had to watch her every footstep and shield her every blind spot or Jay would have taken the opportunity and cut her down already. Sometimes she would keep herself seemingly undefended to lure Jay in and then strike him while the opportunity was there, but Jay was always able to disappear into his portal before she could make an attempt to counterattack. So it had continued for the first half hour or so but then Jay tried less and less. Now he only appeared around Nilani to make some smug comment or something and even that was rare. 

    Nilani walked between the abandoned buildings in the fishing village. She had two golden shields float around her. Before her on an old crane at the pier, she saw Jay lying down. He was resting with a half-eaten chicken leg in his hand and a plate of chicken on his stomach.
    "Jay! We are having a fight, have you forgotten that? Why are you eating chicken?"   

    "Because.... I'm hungry" Jay said with his mouth full. "Also I don't really have anything better to do anyway."  
     
    Nilani summoned a spear and threw it towards Jay, who just rolled to the side down into yet another portal. Jay appeared a little further away on a pile of planks, still eating.

    There was no use even when he was busy eating. Nilani could not get a better opportunity either. Nilani thought for a moment. She was actually hungry as well, since they been on the island for what must have been hours by now. 

    "Where did you even get that chicken? We are on an abandoned island."

    "This? I borrowed it from the guards in the tower there. Their fault for falling asleep when they should watch over us." 

    Nilani sighed. "I am not surprised that they are bored. I am bored as well. This fight is boring. It's not even a fight when we are talking casually while you are eating chicken!"

    "You are bored? Myself, I'm having the time of my life."

    "Really?"

    "No." 

    Nilani sighed ever more as she mushed around her face with her hand. 
    "Can we just end this fight, like now!"

    "I don't know can we? You are a wizard or whatever. Don't you know a I-win-the-game spell. Like something that would make me fall asleep in an instant." 

    "No I don't" Nilani said as she fiddled with her fingers so small sparks turn up around Jay's head. Jay then dropped his plate, and began to snore. 

    Nilani was stunned. "What? did it really work?" She said.
    Jay continued to snore. 
    Nilani walked towards him and pushed his shoulder, but he remained asleep. 






    Later that evening. Jay sat and drank from a jug as he looked out towards the Kisla Island. "At least this way I get to keep my pride. Losing to the dirty tricks of a wizard. Doesn't sound too bad. Most importantly I don't have to risk my life anymore. Contenders have begun to die and a storm is coming towards Vosanova. It's becoming quite dangerous to stay here." He smiled and took another sip from the mug. "So, where should I go next?" 


    In another place. Nilani was trying out her sleeping spell but whoever and whatever she did try it on, it never worked. Not even in the slightest. "Of course. Why would I have expected anything else." She chuckled.   

  • Match 8 - Winner!
    @shadow123 
                                            

    Congratulations!
    Nilani puts the competition to sleep of boredom and thus she takes home the last match of the first stage of the tournament. She is now moved to the second stage.
    @shadow123 you may now choose to improve Nilani's card to a max cmc of 5 or add an additional signature or companion card.
    You may also make changes to your current ones outside of the above. 
    It's going to be interesting see your characters development in the tournament. 


    @Aggroman15
    Sadly, Jay did not manage to break through Nilani's deference and instead decided to have fun before he intentionally lost. 
    It has been great having Jay here in the tournament and I hope to hear more from you and Jay. 
    You may now write the aftermath to Jay story in the tournament. What will he do now and what will his future plans be. 
    I also hope you want to stay and continue participating in the tournament, even if by just reading what is happening. 
  • Huh... We have seven women and a slime. I'm getting weird thoughts...
    I can ensure you that this was not a planned thing. 

    Tournament update
    The first eight matches are over and thus also the first stage of the tournament. 
    We will soon move to the second stage and reveal the quarter finals, which might actually not be the matches that are expected from the match-order. The new matches and their order will be revealed during the weekend. 

    I will also try to wrap up some story elements during the weekend and a little during next week. There are also some characters that I must introduce to you as well as some other world elements. A fourth faction has opened its eyes for the tournament. 

    Just like earlier, you may change and add cards until 24 hours before the designated date of your respective match. The first possible date for the next match will be Monday the 17th. All four matches are expected to take place during that week. More about that later. 
  • Haha that's funny.

    @Jonteman93 Believe it or not, I definitely had fun reading the fight! It seemed very realistic for what each of the characters could do :smile:. Thanks for letting Nilani through!

    Now, I need to step up my story game to go up against Niran...I have some ideas...
  • Akuma breathed a sigh of relief as the results came in. Nilani had won her bout against Jay, securing her spot in the second round.

    Back in her room, Akuma once again looked at her possible opponents for the coming round.

    Brynn: Flying was still an issue, but she had grown stronger throughout her training, meaning she could cover herself from attacks from above with much more stability and for longer periods of time.

    Aeryn: After watching her bout with Dakros, Akuma knew how powerful the runes were. Enough to cut through an entire pillar! She'd have to avoid crossing swords at all costs. If Naku Tsuki broke... She shuddered just to think about it. Otherwise, she was confident she could outmaneuver the knight.

    Efilia: Akuma was slightly worried about Efilia. She didn't look like much, but Pan had died fighting her. It may not have been her doing, but she was definitely tied to it in some way. In a straight fight, however, she was confident in her ability to win through brute force.

    Jelene: Akuma could feel herself scowl when Jelene crossed her mind. No matter how good her fighting ability was, Akuma felt nothing but bitterness toward the ronin. To strike a surrendered enemy was... horrid. Simple disgusting. Flashes of her first fight crossed Akuma's mind. "Louder!" Her blade at Elos' throat. She cupped her head in her hands and fell backwards on to her bed. She was no better, was she? Not yet maybe. But god damn it she would be. Did you not make an oath, Akuma? Oaths don't happen overnight. It's the constant struggle to improve that proves your worthiness!

    Omnipotae: The ooze was an odd character. Its appearance didn't suggest much, but Akuma could sense a lurking malevolence in its every move. As for how she would beat it, she just hoped cutting it could be enough.

    Niran: Akuma was frankly terrified of the young urchin. Graagdord's death. The unnerving violin was the worst. It cut through armor and clothes, trailing its icy fingers across your soul itself. Akuma cleared her head. She could beat Niran, certainly. She'd just have to be careful.

    Nilani: Akuma bit her lip as Nilani crossed her mind. Were they to fight, Akuma wasn't quite so certain she would win. Nilani had improved miles since they met, but then again, Akuma had learned a few tricks as well. She had yet to use them all against Nilani, though. She needed to keep at least a few surprises. Akuma certainly hoped the two of them could fight at some point, however. Nilani was a great sparring partner and a good friend. Perhaps they'd go toe to toe in the final round? As long as they didn't have to fight for the time being, Akuma was happy.
  • Brynn looked out of a second-story window in the old keep. Her thoughts hissed around her like one of the shades she'd encountered years ago. She smiled at the memory. Dealing with shades was easier than this.

    The Medirnians held the scale, five contestants to Gwendolyn's three. Not only that, but their army had just recently marched into Kiserova. Medirna wanted victory as much as Gwendolyn did, and seemed poised to take it.

    By force, if necessary.

    Brynn knew that Medirna had chosen her as one of its champions. She hadn't been surprised by that. She'd spent eight decades protecting one of its borders. Of course Medirna would want her, if only because they knew her. And because you're an angel, she thought. But an upper hand in the tournament hadn't been enough to keep its army from walking into Kiserova.

    Brynn stood up and began walking downstairs. She couldn't focus solely on the big picture. She was a part of this, as much as the other contestants were. They were as much caught in the middle of the conflict as the citizens.

    The angel chuckled at the image. Six humans, an angel, and an ooze in the same boat. What a strange thought. Maybe she should tell one of the others.

    Maybe later, she thought. After I've gotten to know them better, at least.
  • The atmosphere around the courtyard was bleak and heavy, as a silent musician stringed together a mournful eulogy out of thin air. A ghastly echo could be heard through the wind as it formed the harmony that carried the violin’s melody throughout the courtyard. In a way, it was a tale without a voice, one that immortalized the death of a friend. Yet it also carried cold and bitter regrets, regrets that tormented the musician as she struggled to feel again. 

    As Niran continued to play, she noticed that people were no longer avoiding her like the plague. She concluded that it was the cloak given to her by the strange man, seeing that people were not shivering and moving away from her when they got close.

    I wonder why people avoided me in the first place. I wasn’t any threat to them before. Niran pondered, slowing her tempo.


    O̴̗̦̱͔͆́̑̽̉̃͋̄t̵̲̙̭̼͇̣͙̱̹̑̐̃́͗͌̎̉̉̕h̷̨̖͚̻͙͓͓̯̦̥͎͓͆̚ë̵̙̫̖̥̯̟̮̘̖̞̉͌̿̓̓̈̂̓r̸̨̦̠̬̻̟͈͋̾̽ͅ ̷̢̖̮̮̩̪̺̠̞̠̮͓͍͆̂̐́̐̉̈́̀̂̄̊̂͠p̴̧̠̲̜̞̫͇̺͙̟̟̑͂̌̃̃̀̅̍̇̚͝͠ẽ̶̬͓̳̬̰͈ơ̴͈͙͈̺̰̩̝͈̌̑̓̃̍͑͋̒͐̈̽̕̕ṕ̴̱̩̖͕̣͍̘̈́̓̈͌͜͝ͅl̴̤̠͍̫̳͗͌ê̷͈̦̫̤̦̫̪̞͚̼̻̈̔͜͝ ̵̧̘̝̤̬͎̖̉̇̂͋̋̎͋̾͌̈́̃͗n̴̢̩̬͈̫̻̜̗̺͙̯͇͐̌̒̏͛̃̓̅̅́́̐͘͜e̸̜͓̪̦̲̹̓͜ṽ̸̞̾͂̍͂̊̒̕͝ȩ̵̬̹̣͎̩̭̫̘͠r̴̢̨̧͚̫͍͕̖̣̮̲͍̲͊̍̆̐͆̈́̿̄͊͒̋͆̚͠ ̸̡̡͚͓͙͚̹̪̼̈́͌͆͂͗͑͊̉̈́̍c̸̡̢̛̥̭̦̣͙̭͉̲͔͑̊̐͂̓̏͌o̵̧̝̞̯͕͑͐ů̶͎̫̲̼̠̿͂́̎͒̂̈́̋̕͘l̷̛̠͓̪̱̾̒̀̿̅̕̕͘d̷̡͈͎̖̠͛̄̔ ̵̠͍̮̥̬̱̗̠̪͉̙͉͍͊́͒̾̑́̊̅̒̈́̾̒̊̽͘ą̷̢͓̺̳̺̬̟̖̘̬̃͌̍͒̊̏͝n̵̟̻̬̪̩̰̺̼̳͍͚͎̗̣̼̈͋͋̃͋͂̒͒̈͝d̵̢̡̢͇̯̦̞̭̳̜̲͙̲́͒̌ ̶̧͍̤̼̲̬̦̅͌̋̒̀͂͊̕͝n̷̨̤̦̥̝̜̻̼̱̙̣͚͔͊̓̐̈́̍̀̑̓̆̈́̓̾́͜͜͝ę̷͉͌͊͛̈v̸̧̤̖͈̼̝̠͙͔̬̜̄̐̄͑́̕ë̴̛͈̲̈́̋̓̐̂̎͗̿̇̅̍͝r̸̢̯̒͊ͅ ̴̧̯̩̙̰͉̠̙͙͍͚̆̈̒̈́̇w̴̨̜̩͖̠̖̝̫̦̰̭͒i̴̠̗͍̻̇͒͂̒̑̌̓̽͠ļ̴̡͈͎͕͓͔̬̝͋́̐̿͂̀̚̕̕l̴̲̬̻̬͉̰̬̰̉͑̽͑͋̆̽̐̕̚͝ ̶̮̬̙̥͖̖̙͖̼͈̜̤͐̐͐́̌̅́͛̐̎͒̽͜f̷̢̛̛̛͈̳̺̝͍͖̘͓̟͚͔̘͈̓͗̄͑͐͆̾̈́̽̚̚͜͠ư̵̘͇̗̲̣̏͗̔͗̔̔̌̀͝l̸̢̀͆͋́̈̾̇͒͝l̸͈͍͗̋̄̐̍̅̔͌͌͋͘̕ý̷̡͖̦̫͎̹̱̰̗́̚ ̴̨̧̡̥̺̹̼̞̪͕̗̫́c̴̺̰̊̊̅̄̇̈́͝õ̶̟͙͖͎͇͚̞̕͘m̴͕͈͎̠̜̳̜̩͋̂͊̽̍̈̂̊̒̔̀͝p̷̛̻̣̘͈͈͍̿̈́̈́͗̀͊̈́̋͆̈̏́ŗ̵̫̰̩̯̠̉͆͌͑̑̇͌͐̇͘ę̸̜̗̥̭̳̙̣̙͕̥̲̟̠̝̓̎̉͛̌͗̌̚ḩ̷̟̦͛͗̋̌̐̉̄̚ę̷̡̡̨̧̛͙̱̼̰̬̠̤͉̥̺͊̄́̿̾̇̋̀̇͑̍͝͝n̵̛̲͚͇̻͊̌̈̾̄̏̈̒́͋̿̋͐͜͜͝ď̴̢͇̺̬̹̤̼̙͓̲̦̳̮̭̼̾̈́̔̔͛̊͐̀́͆̄̓͠ ̵̙̺̰̮̦̣̦̬̰͕̄͂͒̀̐̀͋͊͌̎͜͝͠o̷͚̜͓͗̔̑̌̃͐̈́̄͛̍̈́͠u̶̢̡͎̜̯̯̭̮͎̦̮̩̞͂́͊͊̃̑̾̌̾̄̔̿̌r̸̛̰̰͐́̏̀ ̵̭͍̞̦̲̱̲̺̞̲̌̒̆̈́͑͋̂̎͋́͆͘͠p̸̡̨̗͓̝̺͖̩̥̣̞͖̭͈̀͛͠o̶̫͝w̷̨̪̬̽̽͑́͊̍̄̓̂͘͝͝e̵̟̜͉͛̑́́͑͂̾͌͘r̷̢̛͖̹̯̩̣̭͙̹̯̞͍̽̀̌͛̃̏͐̈́͆̋̈.̶̨̬̲͇̭̖̩̪̑̒̓͘͘͜͝

    ̷̟̘̭̻̻̙̣͇̍̽̾̌͑̈́̒ͅͅT̴̛̗̤̞͂͗̇͊̽͌́̈́̉̿́̕͘ḩ̴̧̛̮̮̱̟̗̫̰̻̥̓̏̍͒͑͌̐̈́̑͗͋̕ą̸̨͖̯͙̟̉̑͆̚t̷̨̛̩̤̻̬̤͒͊̾͗́͂͌̉̎͆̈́̕͝ ̴͉͍̙̣͈̩̤̞͎̞͚̓͆̊̄̓͗̈́̈͐͗͆̈́͌̚͝f̸̧̘͈͇̲̜̫̦͕̟̫̳͍̮̆͆̍̔̀͑̾̊̾̅̕͝a̷͕̽͒̕͠c̴̦͌̉̓t̴͙̜͍͍̑͛̎́͊̅̔͛̽̓̒̉͋̎͘͜.̸̨̨̢̙͖̳̟͔̣̠͈͎̈͛̽̽ͅ

    ̷̢̪̻̼̝̤̮̗̗̭͗͐ͅÎ̸̗͇̳͙̫̼͗͑̋̾͛̉̏͝͠s̴̨̛̲͎̳̖̤̮̩̮̣͓̼̑̀͛̊̈́̅̂̈́̇̎̀̇̾͘͜ ̷̧͕̘̈ẇ̸̢̡̩̞͚̮̺̝͈̬̙͇͙̹̾ḥ̷̢̢̢͕͍͔̻̻̲͎͎̥̗͖́͒̑̂̔̌̈́̒̒͌͠ȧ̷̩̠͇̝̬͔̮͕͔̬̭͇̞͇̈́t̴̫́̀ ̸̢̧̠̤̖̦͎̼̱̜͇̤̇̈́̕d̸̡̰̩͈͎͔̬̂̽͑̈́́́̾́͐́̄̂̚͝r̶̮̝̬̘̣͕͔͑̃ͅî̶̢̮̳̯̣̯̪̯͙̳̾̎͛͆͌̈́̈́̏̇͝v̴̡̝̩̳̫͙̞̘̥̘̈́̉͛̆̚ͅẽ̴̡̧̨̖̥͉̦̔̐̅͊̇͠s̸̭̼͎̈́̄́̋̀̔́̄͐̃̀̀͘̚͝ ̵̢̢͇̲͓̳̹̟̹̘͚̱̥̬̮͑͐͆̚t̶̯̲̺͈̫̭͇̟̖͠͝ͅͅḧ̷͓̮̻̞̯͈͍̺̙́̎̃͑͒̐̀̏̾̓͝ͅe̶̛͓͙͇͉̯̜̣͜ͅm̸̡̪̱̪̙̘̬̼̪͕͈̟̗̺̒́ ̴̼͎͎̞̞̪͔͈̫̙͕̃a̶̢̧̩̦̙̣̒͑̏̿̋̅̒̎̂̄w̶̮̤͓̺̦̟͕̻̦̝̺͎̳͓͋́͐̂͝a̴̢̬̣͎͚̘̦̪̬͆̽̓͂̉̎̓̈̊y̸̧͚͓̠̫̪̠̘̱̠̑̀̾͘̚ ̸͎͖͓͔̣̉̾̅̊͘͜ͅf̵̧̛̩̺̙̞̊̃̎̈͋̈́̑̏̽̔͘͘r̷̠̞̻͉̞͇͛́͛͋̎̂o̷̧̹̣̲̗͖̰̩͈̤͖̤͛̒̑̓͌́̒̕ḿ̶̨̛̘͐̆̀͋̒͗̆̕͘̕ ̴̧̛̛̱̈̃̽̑̐̃͑̔̏͠y̶̢̻̳͍̜͕̥̰͍̿̈́̋̂́̀͋ò̵̮̞̣̩̼ǔ̷͔̮͉̺͈̜̈́̃͜͜.̵̖̙̜͚͕̾̋̈́̀̈́́̀͌͌͘


    With a loud twang and an abrupt end of the music, Niran clutched her head tightly. The voice in her head no longer overpowered her like it did over those past several weeks, yet it was still disorienting.

    So I’m correct then. This cloak hides that part of me. Niran responded to the voice. If only I had this cloak before I… I… 


    B̶̬̯̝̘̘̦̪̹̓̓̈̆͛̾̑̓͑̕ę̸̛̜̠̳͎̜͖̗̀͊͐͂̕f̵̘͈̟͍̀̈́̈͑̓͊̕o̸̡̨̼̘̼̮͖̺̳̎̍̉̊͗͑̇͘͝͠͠ŗ̶̟͇̩̥͍̥̰̺̇̈́̀͛͜͝ë̴̛̖̲͙̭̫́͒̆͒̉̐̕͜ ̶̢̣̠̹̃y̴̧̧̧̨̗͎͙͈̦̦̆̊̄͜͝ǫ̴̹̘̭̗̰̟͉͎̠͗͐͘͘͜u̴̥͍̰̱͈̣̽̆̀͂̆̈́̇̔̕͘ ̶̧͓̙̘̤̟̘̎͛̇̏̈́̈̈́͛̈́͠ǩ̶̛̩̣̲͖͈̺͔͚͓̭͉̻̮̯̏͂̅̕i̶̢͈͍̥͉̭̘̝̟̼̗̦̣̣̩͛̑̑̄̍̆̚͝ļ̶̧̜̪̮͈͚̼̮̗̞͖̩͆̈̏̇̊̍̿́̇̽̕͠͠͠ļ̷̧̯͔̲̱̼̣̳͕̩̈̎̿͝e̸̢͎̪̩̯͚̳͓̫͔̥̝͓͌̽̂̋͆͆̊̑̓͑̕͠d̴̥̤̝̘͍̜͈͔̈́͗͌͗͒̋͌̍́̀͜ ̵̡̛͚͕̲̬͚̏̃̐͋̉͋̄̅͠͝t̵̛̤̝̗̻̔͊̈́̉͆́̈́̓ͅh̶̢̥̝͓̝̱̮͔̃̿̃͒̈́̉͗͆̎͘̚a̸̗̮̥̣̩̭̜̜͉͐̔̆͒̂͋͊͊̋̋͊̈͜t̶̹̠̔̀̃̊̎ ̸̡̰̮̱͕̯̼̬̱̺̼͎̣͒́͐̍̇̔͐̓͐̆͠͝w̸̨͍̗̐̾̃͛̀͠͠ř̷̨̳̭͉͍͐̏́̏͋̉͊̓͘̕ͅe̶̡̬͉̫̅̋̋̾̈͛͐̋̏̈̿̂̏͝ͅt̶̡̖̪̮͔̼̣̺̤̳̣̰̼̏́̾͛̐̌̉͜ͅc̴̡͈͔̖̜̪͉̟̗͔̟̱̑h̴̡̥̘̟̰͆͆̈̋̐́͊̕͝͝è̴̡͇̝͇̪̫͌̂̓̇̀̀̒̈̆͗̒̄̅d̸̢̜͔͎̪͓̹͇̼̪̣̝̊́͑̑̇͆́͊̏̈́͝͝ͅͅ ̷̘̜́͊́͌̀̏̏̑̓̚͠g̷̨̨̗̼̩͉̪̹̱̦̦̰̍̀̈̊̿̈́̑̕̚̚͜͠ͅo̷̭̖̔͊͘͜͠ͅb̴̡͍͕̯͚̲̜̰̓̒̎̕͝l̷̡͕̥͉͈͓̟̯̪̏͘̚i̵̥̹̺̬̥̭̞͙̙͠ņ̵̢̧̨̢̰̺̘͓̦̼̝̙̩͈́̏̅͛̐̑̎̀̽̈͗̇̑̄͝?̸̹̬̯͇̗̫͖̖͊͐̀͑̌̈́̃͆̌͂̎


    Don’t call Graagdord that! He was a wonderful friend…


    W̴̨̧̢͍̟̹͚͒̍̈́́͊̎̃̀̽̈́a̷̬͗̎͂̌͘s̸̼͙̩̤̖̞̤͔̼͚͎͇͙͉͆͊̕ ̸͖́͐͗͐̉̀̏̇̕͝h̵̥̭͓͔̞͇͓̙̳̲̺͓͖̺͐͠e̵̠͈̙̝̓̈́̌̀̎͐̑̕̚ͅ,̶̡̦̖̮̱͓̟̤̯̯̙̗̰̑͒́̊͝ ̵̼̘̣͎͉̼̙̓̄͌t̷̛̺̝̲̜̣́̋͌̿͆̏͌̈́͜͝h̶̪̜͕̗͔͕̙͒́̌̋́̈́͗̎̃ȏ̴̙́̇̽͊̈́̄̈̀͠u̵̢̱̱̘̣͎̘̯̱͔̺͖̣͙̿͛̈́͒̃͠͝ḡ̶̩̖͇̭̎h̷̡͇̦̹̭̯̲̠̻͆̈̄͒̍͌͗͒ͅ?̵̢̡̡̙͕̩̖̹̈́̑̃̕

    ̸̟̔̓͆̔̍̾̈̾͘ͅD̸̡̯̞̆̈͌̕ǫ̷̢̱͚͍̣͂̅͛̓̏̈́̔ ̷̖̭̘̳̰̥̭̪̼̩̤̪̃͗͆̒͜y̷̦̩̟̞̋̈͑ǫ̷̧̨͓̯̰̜̘̥͍̱͉̯̓̋͌̂̈́͑̒͂̑̿̌̆̀̿ͅu̸̠̫͙̤̜̥͙͛͊̒̄̈́͆̋̾͌͛͗͗̅ ̸͖͆̈r̵̞̜̮̚e̵̤̍͌̓͑̅̏͝ä̴̪̤̯̤͍̗̙͉͔̝̘̩̙́̈́̀͜l̶̳͚͙͔̜̬̮̘̉̿̓͌̀̆̈̊̽́̒͝ļ̸̻̮̖͙̯͈͈̠̤̱̈́̍͋̐̀̈́̏̎̐̓͑̃̂̑̕ÿ̷̯̠͓̆̐ ̵̧̢̨̘͖͎̺̙̱̻͈̙͔̯͛t̴͈̘̼̆͊̆̌͊͝h̷̢̢̡̺͉̝̫̹̦̬̝̅̾̽̏̏͒̇í̴̧̭̩̽̊̌͊͑̉̋͠͝ṇ̸̨͖͎͇̤̺̻̯̽̈́͑̈́̾̽̉́̎͗͝ķ̴̨͚̠͇̙̦̖͖̟̀̂̋͜͝ ̸͖̠̹̖̰͈̀̒͐̕͝h̷̡̖͕̯͚̖̹̼̱͕͊͑͐̉̃̎̍̚͝ͅe̵͖̮̯̿͒͋͛̉ ̶̡̡̨̟̺̙̣̼͓͇̫̘͚͗̑͝͠c̴̩̮̟̍̐̉̑̚̕a̶̛͔̪̤͚͍͌̔̋͆̀̎́̏̑͂̒̎͜r̴̡̢̢̥̩̝̭͍͚͍̬̬̓͊̿͊͋͋̕̚͝͠ȇ̵̪̜̫̖̮͎̺̬͖͓̾̒̄̏͌͝d̷̫̹̗̬͕̫̟̤̫̫̻͋͂͂͆́̈́͐̑͠͝ ̵̡̞̱̹̰̘̪̪͊̈͊a̷̧̢̠̯̬̣̙̝̋̏́̉́̾͊b̶̢̡̢̛̹̣̟̲̭̞̜͙̝͖͖̈͛̏̍́̇̀ó̷̬̦̜̳̺̻̝̠̻̄̈́̔̍͑̀ų̵͖͉̖̱̓̈́̚t̶̲͖̝̩̜͈̲͆ ̶̗͙̮̻̪͉̦͋̔͌̅̂̄́̀̊̂̉̅͘͝y̴̫̘̯̪͇̹͖̜͊͒̆͒͌͘͝͠ͅo̷̧̖̺̰̮̲̳̰͎̱͖̯͙͓̍̎̎͆̉͂͗̚͝͝͝u̶̗͕̙̪͛̎̌͆͆̋̅̋̊̚?̸̨̪̤̫̺̱͇̲̦̼̪̑


    O-o-of course he did! He showed me more love than you ever have, even if we only met a few days ago! And I repay his love with… with… murder!


    D̴̨̨͈̻͍̝̥͓̝̥̜͇̠̭̋̓̃̅̈́̿͗̈́͒̑͌̽͐͜͝͠ȍ̸̟̠̖͑̾̎̅̾̐̓̈́͑͐͆͊͝ ̶̧̨͇̱͖̬͑̃́̀̑y̴̰̝̫̰̟̻̼͑̃̔̌̿̔̋͠o̷̢̮̼͎̘͎̯͇̪̥̜̐̋̊͆̀̉͋̔́̈́̃u̵͕̽ ̸̢̠̰̝̪̱͙̏̊͒͒͑͗̈́́̕͝r̷̜͍̾̎͗̎̋̅̌̔̽́ͅȩ̵̺̮͕̥̼̉̌͊͘͜͝ͅā̵͚̹̱̹̟̼̞̜͍͓̭l̸̡̼̟͕͚̥̝̼̆̕͜l̸̥̣̣̅̎͛̈́̈́y̶̨̛̮̞͖̟̱͒̊̃̀̿̄̚͘͝͠ ̶̧͙͓̪̮̥̖̘̫͓͙̭̣̺̍̀̓̆̃͗̈́͘ͅt̸͚̽͑̆̓̆̀̓͐̃̾̚͝͝͝͝h̴̼̼̱̫͔̖̮͊̀͆̈́͐͋̆̐̍̏̕̕͠ḯ̴͈̬͔̒̏̿́̈́͘͠͝n̵̡̥͕͇̟̿͑̈́͠k̷̨̢̝̣̗̲̞̳̖̳̭̺̈́͋̀͒̒͑͐̔̈́̌̚͘͝͠͝ͅ ̸̜͖̼̝̃̄̉̿͒͋̓͂́͘ÿ̵̨͔̝̦̜͍͓̯͇̣͈̈̇̔̉͜o̵̫̬͖͙̳̖͎͈͎̩̟̙͂̀͂̋̽͂̌͛̄͗͝u̵̡̼̣̳̲̺̯̱͚̺̙͔̤̿͆̀̀̈̊̎́͑͂̏͜ ̷̣̪͚̬͕̮͙̜̍͑̒̾̀̓͊͋̅̐̉͜͜c̴̨̬̦͖̘̙͈̲̖̭̼̱͔͒͐̒̏͆̇͜͝ͅă̶̗̙͔͚̳ŕ̵̡̧̦̱͈̖͔͈̣͍̈͛͗̓̄͌̊̾̕̕̚ȇ̴̡̬͙͔͉̝͚͇̅̈̀̒̓́̓̌͠d̸͕͓̘̖̈́́͋͘ͅ ̶͚͋̍̈́̚ā̶̘͔̺̺̲͕̻̫̜͋̆̃̈́̑̇̆̉̇͂̾͘͝ͅb̵̨̢̜͙̞̱̲͙̺͙͖̤͈̼̾̓͂̚o̶̼̹̰͕̟̙̼̙̙̻̭̞̽̂̈́̌̏ŭ̷̥̤̲̙̖̔́̇̀͑̆̋͗̈́̕̚̕t̷̨̳̝͉̭̥̭͇̲̍́͛́ͅ ̵̛̭̹̩͈̙̜̥̯̞̍̈́̎̽̈́̑͆͂͑̈́̾͜͠ḫ̸̹̝̰̗̺͉̘̝͙̪̓̐͗̃̒͊͑̊̑͛͂͝ȋ̷̢̖̫̝͕̭̼͑͂͊͌͒̄̆̊̃̑͑͋͛m̶̡̧̨͚͔̳̞̠̘̪͈̌̈́̃̋͗?̵̢̫̞͎̤̳̮̟̝̣͓͕̰̖̀̐̃̋̑̃̃͑̐̆͂̕͘


    Niran froze at the piercing question. In her mind she knew that the right answer was yes, but her heart did not agree.

    I-I-I… Of course I care about… Niran paused. No matter how hard she tried she could not say the answer she wanted. I… I don’t know. Everytime I think about him, I feel… nothing. No guilt, no sadness. It’s almost like his death doesn’t… matter to me. Niran tried to cry but her body refused.

  • edited August 2020

    G̸̡̛̰̝̲̘̗̮͊͐͌̄̏̈̑͒̋̿̋̏͘̕o̸̧̺̜͙̝̹̹̫̱̗̩̩̘̺͐̄̀̾͒͑͑͗̚͠͠͝ǭ̸̢̛̱̯̞̻͇͙̰͙̩̰̠̳̄̉̈́̑͌̕̚d̸̘͇̣̗͔̺̒̽͛̂̈́̍̊͘͝͝ ̶̡̧̻̏̽̆̄̑̎̋͊͆̕͘r̷̹̩̫͕̩̼̜̼̒̀̿̈́̀̔̔͐̍̒͜͜͝ͅi̷̡̢̛͎̤̣̪̘͇͕͍̬̣̳͛͐̽̅̎̓́͑͊̚̕̕͝d̶̢̡̨̪̲̳̟̮͈̫̻̯̲̊̎̓̎̚͘d̴͉͑̃̉͊͝a̶̢̛̭̪͈̮͇͉͙͋̉̎͂̐̀̓͋͑̂̌͜͠n̵̰̞̣̪̠͈̻̔͂̂̑̽͂̇͊͝c̴̡̩̭̤̭̝̣̲͔̱͖͌͆̅̾͛͗̚͠ė̵̥̗̯̲͎̫̠̈́̍.̷̭͍̲̝̼̣̯͇̜͔̼̯̩͎͑̆̑̈́

    ̵̜̬̣̙̹̩̤̻̫̩̮̲͑̆͗͑̽̓̿̓͑̾̉̚͝͝A̴̡̛̻̼̳̼̺͈̙͚̞̤̥̪̿̐̇́͘͠͝ͅn̷̢̡͓͈̟̜̟̻͕̗̥̫̱̘̍͛̎̔͐͋d̶̖̱̺̹̤̳͎̊́̀͐͂̄̌̾̋̅̍̏͛̕̚͜͜ ̶̱̤̥̼͎̘̖̞̜̄̈́̿̀̒͐̽̕ͅḩ̷̧͎̱̺̱̥̮̞̃͒ͅe̸̫̥̻͇̼̝͎̲̺͒͆̈́̾ͅͅŗ̶̨̛̛̰̩̬̘͐́̒̈́̌͋̔̍̂̌́͑ē̸̡̼̼̺̘̬͂ ̸̗̖̦̍̾͊͛̇́̑̏̅̚Ĩ̸̤̰͉̝͋͂̈́͜ ̴̪̩͉̗̲̥̘͍̩̻̜͓̳̒̓̈́͐͒̔̓͜t̶͚̠̙͖͙͈̿̽͑̋̉h̵̠̞̍̐̎͆̽͝ò̴̡̢̳̟͙̯̮̯̘̦̖̪̂̓͑̓ŭ̷̩̭̳͔̮̩̜̪̈́͆͂̔͘͘g̵̨̟͈̮̣͒͂͐̑̌̓̇̊̉̕̚͝h̵̨̜͇͚̰̯̠̭͙̿̃̈́̔̍̈́͌͜͜͠ͅͅẗ̸̡̛̜̟̩̙̫̩̤̤̠̭̯̙́͂̍̾̽̊̇͘͘͠ͅ ̵̜̺͍͍͇̲̣͖͍̗̠́̃̎͆̔̓̔͒̏͂͆͘ỷ̷̻̯̪͔̟̻͎͈͉͔o̵͉̞͖͍̣̖͖̅̽ų̶̨̛̥̻͔͍͖̣͍̍̐̊̂͛̿̌̇̓ ̸̢͕̫̹͙͖̙̠̰̞̣͒̈́̅́̋͜ͅw̶̘̟̎̑̌̎̎̎͐͌̕o̶̼̊̍̌̃͛̓̄̚ư̷͍̱͉͊̈́̾̐̈́̃̆̅̚͝ļ̴͈̱̮̹͇̈̈͑̈́̆̅̑̅́̄d̷͚͗̅̈͗̓́͗͆̄ ̷̛͔̮̱͔̥̤͎͓̖̻̿͑̀̂́̔̇́̃ͅͅc̵̡̨̛̪̩̩̭͓̹̘̒̌̈̅̌͋̈̄͗͘͠ͅȍ̶̡͓̳̠͚͔͈͊̕ǹ̶̢̨̼͈̹͙̠t̶̹̪͕̯͖̠̂̀͠i̴̠̿̏̚n̸̢̢̲̮͎̠͎͍̦̹̙̣̟̲̾̆̾́͑̑̆̑̇̑͒́͜͝ǘ̸̼͉͕̬̺̝̳͎̾̈́̍͑̍͛͑̊́ͅȩ̷̳̼̘̲̮͖̒́̀͛͒͌̃͊͊̉͝ ̶̡͐͊͛̓̀́̓̽̑͠d̷͖̳̪͇̩̪̣̅͋̓͂̈́́̏ȩ̸̢͈̻̣̮͓̯͙̍̓͑̐̔͐͝n̶̢̨̡̙̘͇̻̻̳̗̳͚̩̥͚̾̇̓̋̉̔͂͑͘y̴͚͙͋͆į̸̢̲͉̺̹͚̞͍̜̮̫͔̰͓̌n̴̡̧̘̜̩̝̄͜͜ḡ̸̡̤̲̲̫̮̱ ̷͉̹͖͕͇̓͜y̵̢̛̺̥̭̔͛̃͋̾͋̽ơ̸̥͖͖̭̹̙̞͉͆̀͂̀̓̑̽̾̏ͅu̵̡͙̗̜͙̺̲̲̟͎̼̱̬͝ŗ̷̡̨̢̯̜͚͇̳̦̞̲͐̈̈́̈́̓̈́̀̓́̍̄̂̔̌͝ͅ ̵̢̹̦̲̦̬̦̗͔̙̩̱̹͓̀̿́͛͑̈̑̀ͅt̸̠͉̻̹̼̲̜̤̼̓͛́̀̎̏͗̈́͒̅̀͝r̷̞̫̠̝͈̣͊͆͛̄̎̋͛͑͘̚̕͝û̶̢̧̼͉̠͕̲͖̖͙̳͚̮̖̞͋̉̈ę̶͍̙͈̩̱͕̗́̍̏̐̄̕̕͝ ̶͖̟͇̲̻͇̜̖̻͊̚f̸̲̱͇̹͙̺̬̔ȩ̶̰̞̟͙̠̖̭̘̥̳̬̪̺̪͆́̉̄̉̊͛͊̄̉̚͘͝ḛ̶̑͂̐̓̉͑͐̽͂͗͛͠l̸̛̮̜͔̠̳̞͖͊̌͑̀̅͑͂̽̈́̀̓͘͜ȋ̷̬̮̯̙̖̙̺̰̹͕̣͗̈́̏̃̑̊̄̄̊́͊͘̚ņ̵̡̹̙͍͇͖͈̟̪̹̒͛͛g̸̢̢͙̱̹̲̠̭̮͔̝̝̏́̆̐͋̀̽̕͜͝ͅs̵̨͎̞͖̜̣̮̐͒.̶̻̣̗̖̄̓̐̅͛̀̈́͐̃̿̕͘̚̚͠

    ̵̜̝̳̬̗͙̳̯̱̼̬̲̓́̒̉͆̈̈̕͠͠C̸̛̦̺͚̹̫̣͈͓͕̃̍̇̃͘ͅŏ̶̲̦͇̱̦̝̠͙̩̈́̽̈́͗͐̐̎͆̍ͅm̸̨̛̦̬͔͉̥̦̥̀̈́̎̀̎̈́̀ę̸̡͍̙̫̱̥̫̮̳͇̲͎̰̙͆́̅̃̇̾͑̽̍̅̀͘͠͠ ̶̧̭̜͍̖̦͙͊͒́̒́̆͋̚͝͝͝n̷̡̺̈́̀ơ̴̡͙̦̙͈͍̥w̶͉͎̜̳͙̯̗̐̇̐́̅͋̈́̀͆̍̈̕͜͝ͅ.̷̧̠̅̒͐͒̃̀̀̚͠

    ̵͍͚̮͍͇̳͎̯̅̈̌ͅW̷̰̱̎͗̓͌̄̽̒̾͆́͑͐͝͝e̶̡̢̡͔͇̥̹̣͋͐͌̏͆̚ ̶̡̱̠̟̤̖̠͈̳̤͂̐̑̈́͊̽́̄̀̈́̐̀h̸̡̥̰̬͙̞̥̠̬͇̮̝̾́͂̔̀̒͜a̴͎͈̠̝̯̫̻̙͈͓̬̲͗̌̚ͅv̵̡̥̬̲̙͙̙̋͂͋̎̓ę̸̨̨̣̪̞̣̹͒͑̆̓͑́͗̓͒̂̄͘ ̷̡̧̺̫̖̹͈̭̳̑̾w̸̝͐̉̈́̌̊͝o̵̢̖͂̈́͊́̓͋̌͌̑̒̕̕͝r̷̢̧̰̳̺̥̖̖̲̃̓̔̿͛ͅk̶̢̨̞̩̩̜̮̹̮̞̩͒͗̈́ ̷̧̹̮̳̣̞̎̒̀̾̏͝t̶̢͚̙͙̺̱͔̻̺̟͊̓͆͂́̚͜ͅo̷̡̖̣͈͖̠̘̺̱͚͎͚̅͋́͒̀̓͌́͜͠ ̸̜̯̦͈̩̱͓̯̟̯͍̙̟͓̽̾ḑ̷̨̣̫̜̝͚͕̏͋̿̆̆̐͘͘͘o̷̡̡͚͎̫̮͔̲̟͆̽͒́͠͝.̵̧̟̤̜̞͓̭̪͑̈́̎̐̔͆̌͜


    You… you never knew what it was like to feel… and now you plan to do the same with me, don’t you?


    Ǫ̸͎̂͌̈́̏͛̍́̈́̆͊̈́̌͒̈͘ư̴̧̰͙͓̞̥̼͙̯̪̘̝̗͐̀̌̕ȓ̴̡͉̯̬͔̘̼́̐̄͋̆̿̋͛̌̂̈̀͜͝ͅ ̶̧̱̥̹̤͈̞͔͈̟̫̭̖̠̈́̀̉̒̆͝ḑ̶̡̺̥̝̙͖̱̩͈͔̑́̓͛̆̄̑̆̈́͑̄̕u̵͈̩̗͖̞̜̰͇̫͋̔͊̌͌͒͋͌̉̉̾̒ţ̵̧̧̨̢͖͍̻͙̪̺̪̲̱̓́̏̃̀̽͌͗̈́́̚̚͜y̴̨̢̬̹͕͚̦͐̒̔̚͠ ̸̻̞̞̼͙̲̱̠͊̿̓͂͘͜͜ī̴̲͝s̷̰͎̗̦̪͔͕̥̝̞̹͈̖͙̐̑̋̎̈́̊̄́́̈́̍͂̓͝͠ ̵̹͎͇̫͍̙̔̋͑̆́̂̽͛͝t̵̺̗̲̹̲͇̳̤̳͍̳͕͛́͝o̷̠͉̖͎̺̖̯͈̍̉͛̓̀̕ ̵̡̛̪͎͖̥̲̼̏͛́̎͘̚r̴̨̨̘̪̯̱̪͖͎͕̹̆͛̃̎͌̌́̍̓̑̑̚ę̴̃̃̆͐̓͑̀̌͌́̌͝ļ̶̨̺̮̗̟͚̳̱͉̼͛͗̂̔̀̓ȩ̷̨̗̩̍̄͋̈́͑̃ͅa̸̛͍̲͕̬̬̣̩̽̿̌̉̈s̸̱̠͈̺͈͈̭̈́̓̄̿̈̓̒̇̈́̔͜͝͠͝ͅę̵̨͔̣̤̙̼̤̑̄͜ ̸̛̻͔̩̣̘̪̭͓̜̪̯͍̽̅̐̅̈́̑͛́́͝ͅo̸͖̟̫̣̗̩̝̠̳̞̱͆͑͐u̷̧͕͎̭̰̜̱͓̱̺͌̃̌͘̚͠ͅr̸͔̬̗͇͉̣̠͙̝̈́̄̽͆͐͗͘ ̷̛̼̭̹̠̼̪͒͛̋̆̒́͋́͛̚͝m̵̧͎̙̝̪̗̖͈̂͂̌̍̎̽̀ą̷̨̢̝̘̤͒̌͐s̶̨̳͍͎̲̹̜̔̉͊̑̂͛̈͆̐̕͝ţ̸̡̧̢̛͕̫̩͓̏̂̽́͆́̕̚͠͝e̷̛̛̬͓͚͈͚̰̪͎̪̞̐̄̊̆́͌̏́̋̾͐̄ŗ̴̘̩̊.̵͇̾̔̄̂̉̒̐̈́̓̑

    ̴͕͎̱̺̬͈͖̺̬̼͕͙͋̀̆͆͒̓̀́̕͘͝Y̶̧̯̩͈̟̖̜͓͔̳͎͈̏̏͒̈́̄̉̿̔̈͒̐̓͂́͝o̸͓̳̓̊͑ű̷̦͔͉͒̅̾̿͐̍̍͝͝͝͝r̶͎̯̖͉͚̲̠͗̀̆̈̍̚̚͠ ̵̠̆̎͒̔̿͌̈̈́̄̅̊͊̈̚e̶̢̛̬̱̥̞̪̥͎̲̪̲̠̐̑͊͊̒̀̊͒̍͆̈͝ͅṁ̸̧̡͉̥̳̻̝̩̗̖̹̗͓͑̇͌̽͆͝ŏ̴̢̖̯̗͕̼̹̫̜̲́͋̉͑͌͑̌̑͋͌̑̎̓̓ṭ̸̖̮͈̤̺͆̐͒̌̔̊i̴̛͔͎͈̾̂̇̀͐͂̿́̌̾̌̽̕̕ǫ̴̺̘̝̣͈̦̭̲̖̖̣̅̐̕ņ̸̼̘̮̈́s̶̨̧̧̗̖̫͉̣͈̥̊̑̿̃̓̀̈́͐̀̚ͅ ̶̛͚̻̓̈́́̓̔̆̽̈́̾̍̋̀̽̚w̴͚̏̋͆̇̈̃̇̕i̴͈̙̣͒̓͐̀̒̈́̿͛̈́̈́̌̀͘͘̕l̸̨̨̡̡̠̯̝̦̥̗͗̒̀̄̀̇̂̐̂̒̒́͘̚͝l̴̨̨͉̟͚͉͈̭̭̪̰͈̃̆͜ ̸̢̫̺̱̞̎̂̏͑̾͐̐̒̈́̀̓̀̎ỏ̵̰͖̙̫̹̥͖̞̥̻̟͔̞͈̯̒͗̾̄̾̌̄̓̆̄̚̚͝n̵̡̝̤̹̟̘͎̄͌͗̓̀́͛̄̕͘͝l̴̪̺͈͌͒͑͒̍̓͆y̷̧̢̛͉̱̼̗̣͚̝̜̝̆́͛̊̊̍̉͝͝ ̶̨̧̨̧͕͐̀̊͂̉̕͠͝g̵̢͍̝͕̖̤̩͚̿͆̒͂̾ė̷͉͙̹̙̺̄̓t̸̨̢̢̯̩̋͛̓̓̏͆͋̄͜ ̵̧̡̱̪͎̰̣̩̼͕̍̐̃͌͋̍̈̅̑́͛i̸͚̭̗̺̥͕̥̲̗͓̬̫͒ǹ̸̢̫͖̲̙̆̈́̀̉̓̓͒̾̄̕̚ͅ ̴̢̞͈̲̈̍ṱ̵̝̫͕͍̣̬̰̈́̓́̑̓̉́̇̔̀͘ͅh̷̳̝̫͊̆̑̎̏̔͗̉͑̄̃̐̎̇̕͜e̵̛̩̩̻͖̰͔͊͊̎͒̈́̄̈́͒̒̐͘ ̷͍͚̒̊͊͒̄͗͑w̶̧̧̢̧̹̺̭̯̳̞̯̖͙͎̆̐̍̌̿͌̏͜͝͠ã̸̞͔͖̪̳̼̏͆͑̿͂̈̂̚y̸̢̻̘̮͎͎͈͂̈́́̒̂̾̾͝͠.̴̡̖̩͍̥̘͍̳̘̾͗͑̽̇̈́̈́͠


    Shut up.


    M̶̧͍̦̝̽͌̒̍ẏ̸̛͓͖̳̏̉͛͆͂́̈́̾̆͊͝ ̷̯̮̫̙̺͈̦̳̃͒̌̈́͋̾͆͘͠͠͠͝͝m̷̡̛͚͎̈́̓̆͗̊͘ỳ̵̘̞͔͖̖͇̃̍̊͆̄̅̅̄̂̋͂̕ͅ,̴̢́̈͋̄̕̕ ̵̢̻̞̬̬͖̰͉̼̓͐͜͜y̵̧̢̢̨̠͕͚̪̎̔̔̉͝ǫ̸̰͚̯͉̫́̓̌͌̌̃̕͠u̴̻̺̅̉̔̂̔̆̎̃̆̓̉̚͝ ̶̡̯̟̟͖̮͕͕̤̪̳͍͚̫̟̀̈́̏̄̈́͛̊̀͋́̽͐̕͝ḩ̵͔̦͚͉͉̼͓̹̝̻̻̬̺̓̑̃́̈́͝a̵̧̢̹̪̟̮͖̣̯̖̠̐̃͗͝ͅv̵͙͘ȩ̸̲̥͕̼̜͚̽̀̌̉̈́̎͝ ̴̧̮̣̳̞̞̓̋̓̿̈́̒g̵̨̨̜̹͍͈̱̩͓̩̠̤̞̿̎̆͂̈r̴̡̮͙̼͇̤̲͌͂̎̔͜o̵̧̧̧̢͍̞̹͚̗͖͛̆̈́̂͒͗͘͠ẇ̷̝̼̲̝̻̺̉̓͌̇́ǹ̵͌́͛̏̿͐͊́̊̄̄̇̽̚͜ ̸͇̯͙̓̓̀̊̓̆͊̋͊́̍̀̄͝r̶̼̭̹̿͝á̵̢̻̲̦̬̭͉͎̫̃̀̈̑̇͑̀͊̓̒̈́́ͅţ̵̤̱͓̤̼̞̰̝͔͇̟͙͋͋͗̿́̍̂̚͠ḩ̴̢̡̜̦͍̗͎̏͌̀̍͒̄̄̐͐̈́̈́̈́͆̈͜ẹ̴̪̟̤̗̬͎̺̲̩̖̩̠̜̎̄͂̿̊̄̽̽̓̚͠r̸̤͓͐͊͂͝ ̶̣̓́̾ȃ̷͇̪̟̦͚̘̲̖̟̑̌͂̑̈́̎̽g̷͖̘͕͓̓͐̒͋̅͆͑̈́̒͂͒͌͌͠i̷̧͎̗̝̩̳̲̪̟̹͎̱͕̋̋̾͊̑̊̂͊̿̔͘̚͜͝͠t̸̥̘̥̬̺̺̦̞̪̳̉͒̓ä̴̧͇͚̱̩̰̮́͜͠t̶̢͖̮̺̬̗̠̫͈͇͈̂̀̍͂̌͒̕̕͘͝͝ͅȩ̴̛̙͙̹͕͚̩̙̲̼͖̺̓́̅̓̈́̈́̎̏̓d̶̨̧̯̙͉̫̭̰̺̳́̀̑͒͜,̶̲̥̜̞̗̣͖̥̯͈̰̍̑ͅ ̵̡̺̱͕̯͔̬̻̙̇̓̃͜͜h̵̡̉̌́a̸̮͂̑̆͠v̴̢̛̪̭̲̇̈́̔͜͜ͅë̴̢̥͔̭̤̞̭͖͉̥͈͎̼̥͓̏n̴̖̠̯̥͔̾͠͝’̵̧̜̺̰͈̫̻̝̆̈̈̌̒̔͛̄̔̑̚͠t̷̨͎͔̫̮͙̭͇̙̯̳̿̐̅́͂͆̓̂̚ ̵̙̼͍̺̬͕̗͚̪̝̭̽̒̈͌̀͜͝y̷̺͚͖̑͛̈́̊̽̈́̚͝o̵͖̤͎͌̈́́̄̎̚̕u̶̡̮͖͎̖̹͓͈̙͇̻͖͍͍̅̎͑̑͒̆͋͌̾͆͝?̸̮̼̞̥̳̤̰̫̭̆́̌̃̆̏̔́͂͜͜͠͠͠


    Shut up.


    I̴̩̪͐͗͠ ̶̗͔͇̯̖̼̦̹̜̎̈̔͒̐͌̔̋̂t̵̨̪̞͓͓͉̥̭͓̣͕͂̍̂͌̆͐̅͋̓͆̈́ī̴͈͌̐́͒̌̃͋̆̓͠r̶̨̲̔̆̈́̑͛͘e̶̡͓͍͔̥̯̫̜͈͔̩͚̓͋̏̎̉̐̽̈́̏̂ͅ ̴̙͍͎̟̦͚̘̮̭͔͌̈̐͐̈́͑̏̃͠o̴͕̞̪̘̗̯̘̾̋̿͛͝f̸̛̘̘͙͙̩͉͙̭͎͈̼̄̍̔ͅ ̴̢̩̙̹͉̣̊̈́̄̐̓̃̀͑̈́̑̀̂͘ͅt̶̨̧̬͕͍̻̜̀̽̉̿͘͠h̴̹̭̖̺͚̪̠̪̼̓̀͆́̒͘ḙ̸̲̮̬̳͇̬͉̳̙͔̏͂̄̽́͒̉̅͌͜͝͝s̵̢̛͖̯̹̝̙͖̳̪̾͊̀̀́̂̈́̂͊̋̕͝e̴͇̠̲͍͑͊̐̌̓͂̈́̃̄̆̿͝ ̴̨̹͙̞̾ģ̶͇͚̳̠̳͔̙̱͙̜͌͒̆̋͊̏a̷̧̖̙̩̰̯͚͈͈̯̻͕͛̄́͑̔͛͊͛͜͠͝m̷̢̢̧̰̩̲̪̥͓͈͕̾̽͜͠ȇ̷̡̠͈̝͍̀̃͊͋͋͝ş̷̩͕̖̭̗͕̘̘̂̄͌,̶͚̘̫̠̐̀͐̍͑̄̀̈̊̇̋ ̴̛̛̲͔̫͉̘̒̉͂̑̓̆̽͌̄̅̇̕͝ͅD̸̡̼͍͕̲̉̆͋͗͐̽͊e̸̺̼̠͖͙̙̊̋̌̀̀̑͌͐̆̎̀̐̆̚̕ą̶̟̞͉͔̳̦̰̲͇͎̀̈́̂́͠r̴̗̮̟͒͌̊̔̇̀́͠.̵̛̳̪̦̈́̀͋̑̐̽̐̓͘͝

    ̶̧̨̜̜̭̮͚̹̀̑̋̒̽̀͛̇̈̈́̇͛̈́T̴̨̤̘̻͇̦̟͓̲͛̀͆͠h̵̲̹̦̦̠̫̤̘͈͋̒͗̽̔̀̚ẽ̵̡̛͇̞͇̩̜̖̘͖̪̫̲̈́͊̑̿̈́̕͝ͅ ̶͓͕̹̖̍͑̀̓͋̀̅c̶̯̅̿̍̈́́̔̈́̏̾̃̍̾̿̕͝ļ̴̧̪̦̘̩̺̻̬̤̮͙͆̂̉̊̉̿̅̋̀͗͂͋̀̍͝ͅo̸̱̹͉̭̮̤̳̰̠̲͇̱̾̀́c̵̗̖̠̳̽́́̀̃͒̏̑̐͑̚k̸̜̞͉̫̬͕̥̥̻̹̩̒̀͊͆̈́́̈́͝ ̴̱̊́͒͋̀͋̍̊̐̈́̎͘͠͝ị̶̡̧̡̛̠̯̹̠͎̠̰̯̐͒̾̓š̸̠͔͉̲̹̪̺̗͒̇́̋̓̌͆̍̾͆̌͘ ̶̡̨̢̪͙̺͉̲͕̣̳̝̜̳̫̽̑̆̔̓͂̔ṭ̵͎̔̇͆̌̈́̑͑̃͂̃̆̕î̴̪̪̭̿̂̈́̈́́̕͝͝͝c̵̛̮͖̹͚̻̔̈́͋̉͑̌͗̈́̾̊͋͘ķ̸̛̠̲̬̪̀̿-̸̢̝͎̼̳̖͙̳̻̜̘̈́̊̌̾̅̕̚


    “SHUT UP!” Niran screamed as she slammed her violin as hard as she could into the ground. Not long after hearing a loud thump, Niran herself felt an invisible force slam into her hard. She toppled over and fell on the ground, her hood no longer covering her face as she reeled in pain. Soon, everyone around her began to panic upon seeing Niran’s face, running as fast as they could to get away from her dreadful presence. Niran paid no mind to the fleeing folks, as she could only focus on the searing pain coursing through her body at that very moment.
  • F̸̮̕Ô̸̮̮̈́̅̏͛̂̂̀̽̎̄́̍̕͠Ò̸̡͈̰̮̓L̷̡͎̫͓͉͍̻̤̠͚̈̃̓̅̒̀̚͘͝͝͠I̸̛͚̱͉̣̻͗̓͒͒͘͜͝S̶̨̳̫̫̗̖̃͌͗͒͒̃̓͗͆́͋̈́H̶̠̜̺̆͗̿̉̚.̵̶̨̧̼͉̳͕͔͖̮̗̠̦̫͙̠̐̇̄͋̐̂̆͋̊̀͛̓̾̓́̍͗͋̀̂̀̿̈́̏̔̕͝ͅ

    W̷̡̦͉͎̣̠̖̤̯͉̖̭̭̒͗͋͐̕͠Ĕ̵͔̱̻̻̋̈́̌̈́́́ ̴͓̟͙̭̼͙̦̫̞͎͚̠͖̉̑̋̍̅̌̌͗̈́̒̓͑͛̌͜ͅȦ̵̧̰̙̰̽̅̽̈̔̎Ŕ̵̡̢̖̣̠̣̰͕̹̭͇̈́̓͛́̅̿͒̔̔͒̕͝͝͝E̴̛͈͍͉͈͙̘̺̱͗̇̒̑͋̆͌̀̏̆͜ ̵̲̰̬̳̮̳̤̝̥̩̠̰̮̻̽̌Ö̸͉́́N̸̞͓̥̲̭͓͎͒̓́́̄͗̅̃̓͑͐͗͋̿E̷̛͔̥̱̭͑͛̊̑͒̏͒̕.̵̖͕̓̈́͘

    ̵̧̗̟͚͈̤̜̺͇̥̽͌͊̊̈́̉̆͆ͅͅY̵̖̑̿̆́̎̒̆̐̀͘͝͝ͅǪ̵̺̼̳̭̝͉̻̥͋̽̓̾̐̚͝U̷̯̥͚̪̣̥̗͂̆̽̏͗͒͌͛͜͠͠ ̷͇͎̈́͒͊̌͊̚Ç̷̛͖̼͇͕̯̯͙͚͍̱̲̈́͑̀͑͐̅̎̒͜͝A̷̞̫̹̜̥̖͋̋͛̄̏̔N̸̰̂͗̃̇N̸̡̢̫̖͕͇̯͚̭͔̺̤̞̈́̓ͅŌ̷̢̬̗̻̠̖̖͉̘̣̮̱̈́̓͌̓̈́̇̚͜Ț̴̥̍̈́̃̔̋̈́̃̊̾̉̚͠ ̸͉͔̟̙̥͇͍͕̬̤̲̥̭͌̂͗́́̈́̚ͅB̵̺̲̦̭̭͓̺̭̘̺͖̒̉͊̐̽̎̄́̂̀̈̚͝͝ͅͅR̶̢͔̙̭̠̦̼͖͒͠͠I̷̞̬͉͔̠̼̗̜̪͉̣͌̊̐̽̊͗̔̂͑͌͊̕͝͝͠N̶̫͙͕͙̖̥͕̉͗̊̇G̸̥̞̰̈́̾̔̋ ̷̧̩͓͍̫̫͎̥̟̺͊̒̽͘Ḥ̴̨̛̱͉̼̣̞̯̗͇̭̠͐̂̌͗̊͌̉̌͆̚͜͜͝͠Á̶̢̈̂̉̏͝Ŗ̵̹̞̆̓̋̈́̎͌̉͗̀́̂͑̏̂͘M̵̨̨̮͓̞̟̝̫̫̠̍̐̈́ ̵̛̪͇͉̹̮̦͍̘̲͊̑̈́̐̒̅͐͆̇͂͘ͅŲ̴̘͖̖͈̺́̉͜P̴̛̛̮̜̈͆̀̀͋͌͛̏͘͝Ỏ̸̻͕̞N̷̡̞̯̝͖̮̂͗̌̇̀̏̈̀̀ ̷̨̡̳͈͙̜̠̪͈̪̬̬̦͒̄M̶̡̡͖̩̹͍̣͕͇̰͔͋́̌͒̅ͅE̸̛̦͇͚̝̒̉̋͐̔́̊̔̽̚͝ͅ ̴͍͖͙̤͓͉̮̼͊̏̐ͅW̸̢̅̏̏̐̑̕Į̶̛̛͂̈́͌̕͠T̶̮͍̗̜̼̟͉̿́̃H̸̢͙͉̭̄̓̓̐̈́͑̚͠ͅÔ̸̧͓̜̫̦͎̮̯̗͙͘͜Ű̶̡̨̼͔͖̝̬̥̐̂̎̈̔͑̆̾̋̏̓̍̚͝Ṯ̸̢͕̦͍̔́̽̍̚ ̵̡̡̢͓̏͋͆̒̀́͊͊͘H̴̛̛̞͗̒̐͆̔͘͝ͅA̸̺̙̗̥͈̓͒̈́̈́͌̈́̓͂̍͘͝͝R̸̢̨̨̤̬͓͇͉̺͚͑̈́̐́̅̋́̀̈́͗͘̚͝͝͝M̷̡̨̮̣̼̘̅̇̽͝I̸̜͓̹͌͆͑̚N̷̤̟͂G̴̡̧̲̤̲̤̯̫̹̣̩̙̻͐̈́͋̉́̔̃͐̔̉̕̚͝ ̶̡͓̞͈̦̺̠̪̳̓͋̐͝Ỹ̴̮̭̻̜̙͍̠͍͎̝̮̗̔͂̇̌̓̏̏̀̃̋̍̚̚͝Ó̸͈͆̆͝Ụ̷̧̻̳͕̭̯̏R̶̢̡̨̜̟̲̖̮̻͔̲̗̬̊̈́͌̒͒̕̚͜͝͠͝ͅS̵̢̩̗͎͎̫̞̟̦͚͙̘͈̣̅̊͆̊̈́̈́̄̀̔̍́͘̕͝͝Ẹ̴̛͈͖͕̑́̀L̵̡̢̲͍͎̠̞͔̜̂͠F̴̢̟̥̹̟̹̿̓̓̾͋̄́̅̔̈̚͝͝͠ ̷̨̘͓̭͈͍̹͛A̶̢̭̝̭͔͕̣̭̩͉͈̜͊̉̽̆͒̿̑̉͒̌̊̊̂͝S̴̫̗̣̯̱͙̖̳̲͕͋́̃̽̃͗͑ ̶̡̺͕̮͍̥̺̪̣̋͛̽͗̀͗̿͆͂̊͋̚͘͠W̷̲̱͆̎̄͒̏̎͐͒E̴̠̥͉̞͕̲̲͉̣̿̍͑̓̅̀̈́̎̉̀̋̀͛͘͠L̵̳͑̏̈̀͌̓̅͘̚͝͠͝͝͝Ĺ̴̡̮̟̻͓̼̜̟̫̲̪̆̒͗̾̈́̍̍.̶̨̦̟͈̤̥̀͗̋̋̈́̅͂

    ̷̨̥̗͔̙̦͚̗͉̽̓̋͂̌̏͋̿̔͛̕̚D̷̛͉̃̓͂̇͠Ö̵̢̨̦̝̜̼͍̝̻́̄̔̃͒̑͂̌̓̎̚͝N̵̨̢̡̢̛̪̺̻͉̪̼͗̍͑̓̒̚̚͜͝’̵̢̡̢͚͉̣̳͂̋Ţ̴̧̟͔̝͎͎͈̖̼͔͈̀̍͐͌̑̌̒̽̉͘ ̴̰̪̜̰̤̼̣͈̼͆́̽̑̒̔̆͋̇͑͛̾̌͝Y̵̨̘̅̈͂̑O̵̰̗͍̬̒Ư̷͈̰̊̓͆̄̚ ̵̥̝̂̀̂͆͂͛È̵̱̝̹̟̺̲͉̟͇̫̹̬̺̉̏͌̓̈͛̃̕͜͝ͅV̷̡̨̟̣͕͓̙̠͉̝̪̞̐̃̇͊̄̏́̐̾̀̚̕͜͝E̴̳͍̱̫̳͉͋̓̈̋̇̎͐̽̇͝͝R̴̜̘͔̱̘͎̀̾̑̉̊͊̔͘ͅ ̸̨͈̻̭̬̮̲̝̭͙͉̖̻̂́̐͝ͅF̸͈͓̠̲̹̝̈́͌̌̀̾̓̌̉O̸͙̬̗͚̤̟̦̙̎̾͑̉͐̔R̷̤̙̔̆Ǧ̴̣̬͉̤̖̰̜́̂̐̌͛̿̉̄̃̕͘͝E̷̢̡̛̜͈̙̰͖͙͉̺̤͍̮̳͐̿̂́̓̌͂̌̎̑̈́̀̚ͅT̸̜͚̱͈̳͖̞̭̒̈́̃̔͗̃͊̈́̈͌̋̚͘͠͝ ̴̢͚̫͎̰̜̰̳̜͇͔̹͇͌̈̈́̕T̷̜͚͉͇̠̺͓̽̎̑̅̃̍͘̕͠H̸̨̦͉̙̱̠̭̺̜͙͔̹͎͒ͅǍ̴̧̬̱̫̳͕͓͙͕̪̜̳̖͐̔̀̂̈́͑͑̈́͑̃̓͜T̵̫̘͐̿̓̈́̆̐̓͑̈́͜͝͠.̷̢̈́̂͂̍̑


    Niran groaned. Not only did her body ache with pain all over, her mind screamed as it was assaulted by the violin with far more force than she had ever experienced. Thankfully the pain faded away quickly, yet the experience was imprinted into her head all the same.


    G̷̝̻͗̐̂̕e̵̫͎̥̱̭͋̿̽̈̔͆̓͋̈́̿͘͝t̷̢̮͈̳̥͙̺̺̥̳̪̩͇͇̲̅̈́̅̇̐̃͐̓ ̵̝̋̓̊̂ư̴̘̜̩͕͓͒̈̔̇̇̊͠͝ͅp̸̢̛͉̼͑̐͂̔,̵̖͒͂̆̀̂̕͝ ̶̨̛̺̤͎̟͔͎̞͔̹̩͓̪͒͒̏̎̾̿̇̕͜ÿ̷͔̲̞̮̙̜̠̝̜̜́̾̇̐̽̃̋̎͊̈́̓͒̌̔͝ͅo̵͚͈͋̽̓̍ú̷̧̞̫̫̜̼̥͈̜̗̙̂̓͑͠ ̵̧̨͔̩͙̼̭͇͚͈̺͔̬̘̈́̑p̶̨̯̤͉͎̓̀̃͌̒͗͌̓̕a̶̱͗̽͋͂̎̍̐͛͂̀ṭ̸̨̭̩̰̲̟͔̖͈̩̃̓̿̃̈h̵̰͖͠e̶̢̛͖̤͕̗̎͑͗̊̓̂͛̉̍̕̚t̴̡̧͇͔̠͐̋̍͐̽͂͘į̴̧͖͈̬̻̯̥̩̥͇̰͓͇̀̊̀͛̀̑̓̒͑́c̵̡̯͓͋̒͒̓̊̈́͊̌͛́͐́͆̓͂ ̵̥͈̥̯͖͇̰̣̤̝̒̌͋͐̒̓̌̿̏͜͜ͅp̷̛̩̂̃͒͝ì̵̳̜͍̫̩͈̼̥͇͕̙̪̘͇̄́̽̿̈͠ͅȩ̴͍̬̝̞̗̜̬̻̬͖̰͐̈͛̾̽͝ͅc̵̗̲̹̱̳͚̞̬͙͇͕̭̲̘̾̔̄ė̸̤̜̞̞̗̫̥̖̣̬͍͚̣͗̔̒͊̊̇͆̍́̽́ ̷̬̳̮̥̣̌̆̐̐́͛́͆̍̈́̂̕̚ö̸̜́̀͒̓͒͗̂̌̊͊̅͘͝f̷͇͈̺̦̱͉̞̯̼̹͕̹͚̞͙̿̿̉̂́̂̉̎͆͊̆͘̚͝ ̴̡̨̬̪̲̟̦̳̱͍̬̘́̓͂̐̈́̐̊͋̏̋́̏̽̾͘ͅŝ̵̢̢̜̮̞̪͔͓̼̺͑͛̉̽̐h̴͈̩͠î̴̼́̿̈̊͐̎̓͗͆͊̆̒̆t̸̜̩̪̖̪̒͒̓͠.̴̢̤͎̘͈̞̜̻͓̘̠̫̮͑̃͑͊̒̕͜


    Niran slowly rose from where she lied, picking up her violin as well. Despite throwing the violin with all the strength she had, Niran noticed that it did not look damaged at all. 

    I need… some time to think about this… Niran wearily thought.


    Y̶̗̍͑͌͐̈́͑͝e̶͎̩̲̪͉̘̝̓̊̐͋s̵̱͇̹̼̭̲͙̋̌̀̅̑̔͂̑͠͝.̷̠̥̼̦̪̺̜͎͇͖͖͖͇́̌̇͂̔͗̄̔͐́͌̇͘͘ ̷̠̟͕̘̘̻̣̜̭̳̩̐̔͌̇̔̾̆̌͋̾̕͜͝G̸̨̛̥͚̲͍͎͕̭̗̽́̈́̕o̵͔̖̙̩͖̬͋̀̄̀͒̓̈́̓̂͂̌̋̚̕͠ ̶̨͙̗̉̈̓̋͛̽̋s̶̢̨̢̨̞͎̤̜̮̩̱̻̑̽p̴̨͎͖͓̣̃̀ê̸̗̙͓̋̾͜n̵͚̮͉͇͎̪͚̉̊̀̎͊ḑ̸̟̭̤̥̗̠͇͇̜̼̃̈́̏͋͝ͅ ̷͉͋̄͂̉͒̃͒̇̎̇̾̎̔s̶̢̞̲̥͈̤̪̰̰̠͓̜̞͙͔̀̍͝ờ̴͚̼̹͔̝̏̈́͠m̵̯͍̻͉̍̄̆̑̈́͆͆͠͠͠é̷̤̿̽͐̑̅̃̂͗͘̕͝ͅ ̸̦̞̱̘̹͎̰̤̭̯̜͋̂̾͋̐̇͊́̾̓̉̈́͐͝ͅẗ̸̛͍̓̈́̋͊͘i̶͇̜̩̣̟͈̳͚̼̯͉̒͘͜m̴̲͛̒͛͛e̴̢̲̣̖̦̥̼̦̼̻͚̫̭̹̓̌͆͒͆̕͝ ̸͓̩̣̤͇̲̠͔͚̗͙͈̌̉͆͊̄͐͛̇͆͗̕͝t̴̨͖̻͍̰̭͓͎̟̤̝͇͉̱̪̉̄͆̓̎͘͝ợ̵͎͕̿̕ ̶̛͔̫̃͋w̶̨̢̠͕͙͈͕͇̺͓͖̤͙͆̑̋̒̾̓̃͂͑͘͜ą̷̢̞̣͓̼̰͛̓̇̇̽̍̚l̵̺̻̪͚̟͙̓̿̎͂̃́̐͗̄̀̏̈́̕l̴̢̡̖͖̱͂̿́̉͛̋̀̽͛̃̑͋͂͘͝ͅǫ̷̼̰̜͓̠̀͆̀̀̄̃̂͘̕w̶̘̬͍͕̔͒̀̊̍̈͐̉̾̆́̏̍͜͝͝ ̴̢̩̫̝͇̖̬͙̀̂̐̊̕͠͠ḯ̸̺̙̬͉̫͓̱͈͎̥͔͔͈̜͆̔̌͐̓̄̍͗̕ņ̶̨̡̫͉̹̺̪̹̰̥̆͂͑̆͋̉͘̚̚͜͝ ̷̡̧̞̯̳͍̘̥͍͇̩̣͉̍͊͐̔̈͋̈́̀͛̀̋͑̃̍͂͜ͅỹ̷̨͔̳͍̞̌́̀̑͐ọ̴̧̪͙̼̣̓̽̂̎̓̀͘ṵ̵̢̭̯͉̫͕͓̗͙̗͕̥̭͛̾̊͑͐̽͐̕̚ŕ̵̦̈́̈̅ ̴̡̡̧̬̟̼͙͇̬̙̟͙͓̓̿͐͂̑ǫ̴͖͙͖̬̻̝̙̬̫̃̽̔͌̈́̑͘w̸̟̟͓̠̗̳̼̺͍̮̮͐̿̄͛̑̆̄̏̂̓̀͜͝ṅ̸͚͗̉ ̴͖̱̼̟̠̊̔̐͐̈s̴̡̜̩͍̮̤̣̺̩͔͉̣͖̐́͑̄͐͛̅ͅė̷̠͇̬̗̱̖͋͐͌̾̎͊͠l̸̛̦̞̬̩̉̈́̈́͗̋̽͛̇̑͘f̸̛̯̄͗͑̒͊͒̃͑̿̕ ̸̢̪̠̠̝͕͎̣͔̱̱͛͗̋̒͒͐͗̈́͂͋̀͊̕͠p̴̛̼̭̖̞͇̠͙̌̀̿̇̓̆̚̕͝ͅḯ̵̳̫̮̣̺̼͔̋͂͝t̴̨͔̤̳͙͚̺̱̜͖͔͗͌̄̎͆̓̓͒̈́͝y̷͔͓̭̜̍̚,̶̹̩̠̤̪͙̒̂͛̊̋̓̿̔̚ ̷̧̹͍̞̲̬̙̙̿̀̍̍̊̒́̿̊͋͘y̴̧̢̨̯̭̗̩̬̻̬̮̭̮͋͝o̸̰̊͋̓͒̈́̓̽͝ụ̷̼̰͔̮̼̤̤̯̝̠̼͇̌͛̄͋͜ͅ ̵̫̉̐m̸̼̞͗͑į̵̞̗̞̟͔̈͒̉͛̏͜͠ṣ̵̛̞̅̽̓̏̓͋̇͑é̸̯̫̜̜͖̻̹̖͓̥̣̯͍̻̒̈́̓͘͝ͅr̵̨̡̨͇̦̥̰̗̮͔͍̗̜̫̀͒̚͝͠a̵̛̦̘̜͉͈̦͓̜̤̬͎̘͋͂̋̿̍͛̀̔͑͂̒̚b̵̰̀̀l̷̢̻̜̘͚̫̫͇̿́̽͊̇͊͛̒̌͛̍͘͜͝e̵̯̙͊̾̿̏̇̊̏̓ ̵̯͚̫̜̫̦͉̪̅͐̀͒͂̔̋͋́́̕̕͝m̵̨̦̱̰̘͓̳̫͖̜̥̹̬͇̀̈̈̒̇̃̍̈́͝ŭ̵͖̞̭̲͉̲͚̿̏̒̅͝t̴̡͎̫̤̙̫̻̖̭̜̭͈̰̺̏̇͒̃́̌̏͘̚ͅt̸̡̛̟̗̝̗̖̗̀̓̓͝.̵̻͓͔̒͑̒̄͆̿̓̓́̾͊̚͘

    ̶̞̪̬̹̤̼̟̖̱̣͊̍͜͜C̸̘̲̲̱̝͈̖̄͆̓́͊͝͝l̸̠͓̪̺̱̟̈́̎̈̅́̈́͊̓̐̓͘ȇ̸̢̛͈̘̩̮̠̮̦̮̈́͊a̶̡̘̱͚͚̲̜̎͜͠͝ṛ̵̡̨̟̫̯͉̖̤̖̅̀̓̄̐́͛͑̅͂͛̑ͅl̴̻̲̤͎͍͑͌̋̋͠y̵̡̘̩͔̤̱͚͎͈͍̳̠̱͙̾͌ ̸̨͉̮̌͌͑͛̌̂̾̂̀̒̍͐͝ÿ̸͙́͐̈́̃͛̅͌̿͐́̚̚͝ơ̵̛͈̹̬̖̟̹̝̋̔͋̎̈ǔ̸̗̲̖̞͉̱̯̘̤̥͗̾̆́̀̕ ̵̜̝̍̏͛͊̔̃ň̵͎̱̩͇̼̟̜̝̼͕̞̰̆́͂̅̇͆͐̋̆͂͂̀̌̌ȩ̷͖̲̻̼̫̒̉͜ȩ̸̙͎̩̞̥͎͇̘͚͖͚̥͌̌̈́̾͘d̶̨̧͙̥̥͓͕̮͉̐͜ͅ ̸̠̩͂̾͐̅̍͂͊͛̂̄͌͘i̶̧̦̤͕̰̳̩̠̞̭̰̘̋̾̾̅ͅͅt̶̛̩̰̪͕̱̲̝̠͕̤̩̮̘̘͑̈̿̾͑.̶̮̳͎͖̱̰̳̱͈͙̒̓̈́


    Without a second thought, Niran pulled up her hood and began to trudge through the mud to her secret burrow. Yet in her silent sulking, Niran was unaware of the several shadows stalking her from a distance…


    (To be continued)

  • TBH I'm disappointed but not surprised, I wasn't really doing any of the big story segments or anything that the others were writing, and I guess I wasn't quite as invested in this as some others. That being said, it was fun for the small time that it lasted, and I may still keep tabs on what's going on and who's winning and stuff like that.
  • edited August 2020

    The journey to Niran’s burrow was neither quick nor subtle, as the young musician slogged through the muddy streets lost in thought. As she walked, Niran contemplated her future; about the fate she was doomed to complete, or so her violin said. She paid little attention to her surroundings, consequently bumping into the occasional passerby. Even with the looks of disgust that came from them weighing down on Niran’s shoulders, she could not help but feel empty. No shame, no fear, nothing. In fact, it was as if the whole world had turned gray, despite the sun shining a vibrant orange as it fell to the horizon. There was nothing that brought her joy, no, any sort of feeling anymore. Not even the very song she played in the courtyard. That was only a duty she completed out of necessity, both for the strange man and for Graagdord himself. Ever since she murdered Graagdord, the sole emotion she ever felt again was that of rage. Rage at herself and her inability to control her own powers. Rage at everyone who treated her like trash to be thrown to the side. Rage at her violin, the one who has taken almost all of what little Niran had left. In that moment of throwing the violin, all of Niran’s weights had been lifted. She felt truly alive…

    That feeling proved to be short lived as soon as the feedback hit Niran and forced her to the ground. As she groveled from the pain, a sudden revelation occurred to her. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hope to fight her fate. She would be a forgotten puppet, her strings puppeteered by a master far greater than she could ever understand. Yet one option remained.


    I̸̱̻͕͖̔̇̂͊̀͆̅͠͝f̶̢̢̣̰̬̼̘͉̑̀͋̾̈̄̑͝ ̵̛̠͈̟͍͕̹̣̥̯̣̪͐̉͑̓͊̋̒͒͌̌͛̊̓̕ͅͅy̵̖͉͋͗̋̊̓̃́̌̇͑̕͝͠ő̷̡̬̻̭͎̖̯͍͔̦̯̬͎̻̲̓̎̈́̓͊̔͑̃͗̚̕͝ū̷̡̟̲̼͚ ̵͈͖̜̜̍̉̾̅̀̌̕t̸̬͙̗̠̐̀͛ḩ̵͔͇̻̭͙̼̱̮̹͎̀̾̈́̓̒̾͑̽͊͜͜͜i̷̗͔̲̫̇̔̐͂̒̋̅͛̕͘̚n̵̛̬̺̻̥͗͗̐́͗̀̃͊̿̽̀̍̊͘k̴̢̉͛̈́͊͌̌̀͝ ̴͕̜́͂͊̒͘͝y̴̢̤̘̗̱̫̳̒͊̽̇͑̓͘͝ő̵̖̪̝̗u̷̧̨̯̺̩͚̲͉̞̣̬̠̱̯̗̓̎̿̽͒̔̐̏̿͝ ̵̛͍̻͕̗̟̣̫̉̊͑̋̇͐͒͐̀̀̈́̕c̶͔͎̮̝̗̣̝̄̇̾̂̌́͂́̎̒́̇̕͝͝ȧ̶̦̭̝̰̬̜͈̈́͊̅̏͒̐̄̽͘͜ͅͅn̵̝̗̠̞̉̀͊ ̴̲͚̼̞̔́̂͌̂̐̂̂̔͘s̴̳͖͕̻̦̊̽͗̏́͊̈́͆̃͂̋́̄̚o̶̡̡̝̲͍̲̹̼̻̠͕͖̝͗̾̎̀̌͂͆̾̔̚̕̕͠ͅ ̶̧̡̛̩̩̜̘̳͓̭͓̰͔͚͉̀̊̂͆̽̆̃̑͝ë̸͎̖͚̖̦̥͉̜́̽̅͜ą̷̨̛̼̟͔̙̥̫̯̉̾̓̽̄̇̆͂̄͌̑͘͘̚s̷̡̧̠̘͖̻̣̘̱̱̻̻̪̱͍̏͆ǐ̵̘̰̟̳̮̤͎̰̎̈́͐̇̂̌̒̏̊͆̕͝l̴̢͇̺̓͑̅͐̅͒̿̈͗͆͘͘̕y̴̨̰̼̤͉̖̭̪͗́̈́̐ ̷̺̗̻͚̩͕̣̮̀̓͗̌̚͠e̸̡̨̛̝̺͍̯̱̻͍̮̓͂̽̽̀͆̏ͅś̶̨̺͉̹̬̓̍c̵͉̑͂͒̉͗̇̓̈́͝â̷̢̛̠̬͍̫͔̓̾́̇̍́̽͘͘p̴̡͕͋̊̓̏̓͘͝ẻ̵͍͓̲̞̑̿̍̐͂̚ ̷̡̨̛̭͔̰̪͙̹̝̭̤͔̞́͌̓͐̿̎͜f̶̞͖͐̿͆͊̆̐̌͝á̴̡̲̘͈̭̟͚̼͎̜̜̖̦͂̓͂̊͂͗̈́̌͒̀̊͘͠͝t̷̙͖̼͍́͛̈́̕ȩ̵͎̳̥͚͕̭̺͉̝̿͋̌͂̓́̈́̓̎̄̀ ̷̛̪̔̆̄̅͛̈́t̸̺͍̞̯̺͎̺̪̼͔̫̿́̐̉̾͐͛͗̎̀̆̂͌̏̃ḫ̷̨̡͖̺̣͗̓̎̔̈̃̉̄̚̚ř̵̨̛̼̭̯͙͙̙̠̯̙̞͇̄̇o̶̧̨̼͔̘͓̝̜͕̥̰̱̾̔͗̂̿͋̎̒̒̈́̐̚͜ͅư̷̭̳̥͚̥̤̺̍̊̎̈ģ̴̧͈̱̳̤͍̜̝̰̒̋͗́̉̋͗͛̏̐͑͌̚ͅĥ̷̠̬̗͉̳̳̉̌̔̂͛́͋̓͜͝ ̵̦͉͉̩̦͎͕̪̣̳̹͕͖̈́̃̌d̶̢̟͕̙̭̝͉͓̫̤̤̋̈́̒͐́͑̃͂͗̏̒́͘ͅę̵̧͉̠͉̺̥̮̤̫̉̉̉̌̈́̐̅̅͑͌͒͘͝ͅḁ̴̡͉̦̰̰̼̯͉͚͔̲͖͙̒͌̈́͋̌̌t̸̡̼̻̓̋̅͐͌͠h̸̭̥̦͈̋̑̌̈͋͒̒̔͒͐̓͜.̵̧̙͔̺̮͇̞̩͆͒̀̏͘͠.̴̡͚̥͇̯̗͕̓̏̋̐͊̓̀̓̍͌̚͜.̷̢̙̼̹̪̮̬̓̓̌̕

    ̴̪̱̬͙͉̮̗̯͆̌̀͂ͅỸ̴̧̨̳͈̬͚͓͉̜̞̺̦͙̒͂͊̉̍͊̉ͅö̷̭̞ü̸͉͙̝͇̈́̈́͂͋̆̏̍̀̅̆͗̀̕͝ ̸̠͚̣͙̝͊̿̔̑͆́̄à̸̛̭̳̭̫͍̫̂̿̈̆͘̕r̸̢̡̩̺͇̺̖͇͙͈̂̇̄̎̂͝ͅe̷̢̢̫͚̥̭̯̘̥̓͜ ̷̧̢̢̡͍̦͓̱͕̰̖̼̄̾́̉̒m̵̢̢̞͍̻̝̞̤̪̯̮̠̰͖͂̉̽͆̀̐̌̽̕i̷̲̹̬̙͈̻͕͙̻̾̇̋̀̍̚s̵̨̡͓͎̹̬̳̺͔͉̪̅̀͑͂͆͊̈̋͋́̚͘t̷̰̣̊̍̏̂̈́̿à̴̖̖̈́̂͊̓̒͂̈̌͘k̵̨͚̱̰̺̼͈̮̫̭̃̋͛͜ͅę̸̯̳͛̀̂̊̆͛́ͅͅn̷̡͙̺̭͍̪͈̓̕.̷̫̳͈͖̉͂̔̀̊͆̏͗̍̉͐

    ̶̛͉̦̪̜̥̻̖͓̱̦́̉͊̿̆͑̍͗̑̌̂̕͝Y̷̢̨̟̥̞̙̻̟̱̺͍̳̳̱̝̒̈́͂̎̎̋̒͌͆͋̌̋̏̔̒ŏ̵̩͈͙͚͔̲̗̤͙̱͙̍͋͋͂ͅǘ̴̙͉̮̲̌̓̓͑̍̒͊̋̿̈́̾̚͝͝ ̶̛̛̭̺͙̻̰̪̏͒͂̈͌͒̂́̆̕͜ẅ̵̨̮͈̳̫̖̣͈̦̠̲̘̟̰̿͐̔̊͌͛͌̽̚͜͠į̸̧̛͎͖͉̫͕͇̉́͗̏͌͂͊̃͑͘͘͝͠ͅļ̵̨̗͚̠̖̳̺͓̤͇̳͗͊̅̒̃̊̚l̸̳̩̳̞̲͐͑̏̇͘͘͝ ̶̢̡̰̙̳͈̺̤̲͙͛̆̄͗̍̎̑̅̈̕̚͝n̷̛͔̓͂̂̑̀̂̌́̀͂ẻ̸̮̣͉̮̣̱̙̍̿͌̉͘v̷̡̡̹̟͈̝͐̃̇̂̌͝͝͠ȅ̶͖̌̾͊̃ŕ̴̡̤̣͉͙̝̖̘͔̣͇͋̌̾̔̀̕͝ͅ ̴̢̛̻̼̥̘̽̊̓̒̇̈́̀̽́̋̓̈́͘͜͝d̶̡̡̟͕̘̯͚͓̝̱͑̈́̅͒̑i̷̞̦̫̩̜̼̖͒́̀̄̂́̃̓̂̚ȩ̷̦͖͍̘̱͉͌̓̀̾̓͑̓̏͆̆͘͝͠ ̴͎̻̭̯̗̳̘̄̈̌̍͒́̏͠ş̷̧͌̒̐̍̒͂o̴̱̯̥̬̠̩̺̠͉̹͓͋̏͜͝ ̵̨̡̮̰̓̐̉́͂̈͘͝l̴̡̧̛̤̖͕̥̙̟͎̋͆̌͗̒̒̂̅̓̾́͂͝͠ǫ̵̟͇̟̦̯̺̀͒́͆͗̀̾́͝n̷̩̹̆̾̒͋̑̉̀͗̈̕g̴̡̢̧̩̗̤̙̥͍̹͉̖͑̊̍̒̇́͑͒͑̍̚̚͝ ̵̜̬̍̂̈́͐͑͛̄̓͛̌̕͜͠͝a̶̢̩͍͎̭̖͕̫̼͉̽́͛̏̆͛̕͝͠͝s̴̢̗͎͌̈́͑̈̔͆́̈́̽̊̀͐́͘̚ ̷͙̱̙̫̘̹͚̥̙͖̭̬͒͆̅̔͌̈́̓̑͛͐͝͝I̵̳̪͚̺̪̳͎̫̬̙̺̣̮͓͊̈́͘͜ ̵͓̣̜̹̂̔̍̅̓͒̕s̸̨̨͍̱̘̰͈͍̗̫͕̩̮͇̮̎̑͑̌̂͛̕a̵̹̝͔̻̹̞͈̻̝͔͖̞̋̈́̋̈̈́ý̵̛̱͈̍̓̈́̏̓̈́͒̆̎̕͝͝ ̸̡̹̖̠̗̔̽̈́̍̌͗̾̀͗̒͠͝s̴͔̬̪͈̱͔̣̹̪̝͂̆̾̉̀͂̈́̉̉̚͜͝ǒ̸͕̜̺̺͉̤̤̗̣͇͛̓̽͆̇͋̕͘͠͝͠͝.̷̢̘̬̀̋̊̋̽̄́́̽͠͝


    The violin’s voice no longer seared her mind, it only felt like a slight buzz. Niran could not tell why the voice felt numb, not that she cared. Her one door to freedom was closed, leaving Niran alone and powerless in the dark.

    Niran continued on her walk to her burrow despondently, letting her body take control while her mind took a backseat. Although it was slightly relaxing to not have to think about all of her troubles, Niran was completely unaware of the events that occurred around her. A drunken mugger assaulting a somewhat rich visitor did not catch her attention, nor the cart barreling out of control that nearly grazed Niran as it zoomed past her. Most of all, she never noticed the six shadows creeping past her, entering the alleyway Niran herself was headed to…

    The cloth that hung on the ropes were damp and heavy from the summer rain, making it harder than ever to navigate the labyrinth of fabrics. Niran was slightly frustrated. Even when she had already given up, the world itself continued to make her life worse in every little way. Becoming more acute and aware, Niran slipped through the open spots made by those fabrics. She just wanted to get to her only home left so that she could drown in her thoughts in peace. Could the world just lay off and give her that one simple wish?


    Ớ̷͓̲̦̗̻͚̭̝͍͇̫͒͒̍̄͂̈̀̓̀̋͌͠n̸̳͔̔͒̇̌̆̍̀͛ ̵̛̫̳̾̍͋̒͊́y̷̛̛̯͓̐͆̾̈́̔̒͗̓̐̕͘͝͠o̴͎̪̱̰̰͇̹͇̽͒̏̄̄̏̀̐u̷̢̒͋̾̿͗̿̆̓̇́̇̇͘͜r̷̦̼̦̍ ̶̺̱̣͓̪̳͉͆̈́̒̐̎ģ̴̣͔͎͈̙̟̗̇̌͂u̵̧̎͆a̵̢͚̘̲̒̌͒̿̑̌͋̑̏̽̈́̎̚͝r̶̩̩̱̩̠̐̈́͌̊d̷̢͉̭̦̱̩̪̖̦͆́̾͆́͂̎͑̀̈́.̶͚̮̺̩͇̠̭͕̠̝̝͑̕

    ̵̡̢̣̜̮͕̝͚̪̮̻̬͛͊͋̽̊̐̀́̑̅̓̚͜W̸̢̡̼̻̤̖̗͈̠̐̈̆͑̑̆̈́͘ë̵̠̅̕ ̶̢͎͇̝̙͉̘̰̻͖͈͈̬̥͓̉́̏͊̐̋͑̒̉͌͐͘̚ḩ̵̨̛͇̩̥͎̋̀̄̄́̈́̌̂̇̔͆a̶͈̱̐͑͐v̴̧̛͉͙̣͈̠͙̜̠̦̥͂̒̿̕ͅȩ̵̰͈̮̭̘͕̯͐̐̀͒̄͝ ̷̪̭͉͈͑̓c̶̨̛̘̬̽̀̎̈́͊͌̆̍̋̓͘o̵̡͝m̵̧̛͍̙͖̮̟̬̙͒͗̅̀̅̈́̆̿̉͜ͅṗ̵̨̰͎̺̙̙̗͈̱͍̭͍̞̹͆̍̋͊̃͒͐͜ạ̶̧̛̦͖͖͓̱̠̲͉̹̙̜̝͑͜͠͝n̴̠̯͍̖͍̩̥͕̼̰̗̫͂̆͑͗́̅́̋͑͝y̵̳͇̼̥͍̯̺̌͋͌͑̈͋̇̋̓͜͠.̵̢͉̰̯̺̠͇̳͇͇̩͔͕̮̈̆̆͛̇͒̈́͐̐


    Seems like that’s a no. Niran thought as she instinctively became alert of malicious presence coming beyond the cloth. Yet it was too late. Almost immediately Niran found herself surrounded by five small figures, some holding rocks, some clenching their fists. They were covered in dirt and muck and were wearing sacks of burlap as clothing. They were just as short as Niran, if not shorter, and had the same childlike physique. Yet their faces were filled with anything but childhood innocence. Niran knew exactly who they were.

    “Urchins.” Niran gasped quietly.

    “Yeah, yeah, now that you’ve got your little violin, you think you’re SOOO much better than us, huh?” A familiar voice said behind the cloth. Niran turned around towards the source of the sound. She could not find the sixth person anywhere, but that did not matter. Niran knew exactly who it was.

    “Damien! I… I… Just, leave me alone! I don’t have time for this…” Niran yelled.

    “Aww, and here I thought lil’ miss Niran would be glad to see us giving you the spotlight! You are quite the attention seeker, aren’t you?” Damien lifted the curtain and revealed himself. Unlike the other kids, Damien towered over Niran. He was lanky and thin, yet his scrawny physique hid his actual strength. He also was much cleaner than the five kids, having taken the time to groom himself. He was the face of the urchins, after all.

    “It’s not like that…” Niran responded meekly.

    “Suuure, you just keep thinking that. Anywho, news goes around, and we hear that you not only kill another contestant, but you also RIP his friggin’ soul out! ‘Course, it’d be hard to believe that normally, but this is the Tournament of Champions we talkin’ about! Kinda have to take everythin’ at face value.

    “Seeing as you’re a danger to everyone around you, we decided we had to do somethin’ about it. No monster’s gonna simply walk on MY streets.”

    “Monster?” Niran asked, only beginning to realize the hatred filled within Damien’s eyes.

  • edited August 2020

    “You heard me right! You couldn’t even let that poor goblin’s body be. No, you just HAD to take the extra step and steal his soul! If we don’t stop you, who else is gonna suffer by YOUR hands?” Damien yelled, his eyes burning with fury. He clenched his fists, looking ready to attack. “Now that we caught up, about time we dish out some justice, huh?”

    “Wait, how did you find me in the first place?”

    “Oh, that,” with a signal from Damien one of the urchins knocked Niran’s violin out of her hand. Before she had any time to react, Damien lunged at Niran and hoisted her in the air, leaving her helpless. “Even with everyone searching for you, you were quite a tough cookie to track. In fact, it almost seemed like you left this city entirely! But then, a little birdie flew up and told me about your little… commotion in the courtyard. Became rather easy to find you after that.” Damien threw Niran to the ground, and kicked her as hard as he could. Soon after the other urchins closed in, beating Niran with rocks and punches and even more kicks.


    Ģ̶͕͔̥̫̲̗̜̘̳͈̊̊̒̏͊̍̐ȩ̷̯͕͉̳̼̹̭̃̀̎͒̀͜t̴͉̯̩͕͈̟͇̟̘̾͒͋̐̇̒̃̆̚͠͝͝͝͝͠ͅ ̴͙̮̦̦̹̳̎̑̃͝ư̵̧̗̙͈͖̼͚̗͚̟̫̗̈́̌̉͗͜͝p̵̨̛̲͇̩̏̀̀̿̕͝!̶̡̜̖̹͈̹̓͗̆͋̄̇̈́̑͋̓̔͘

    ̴̢̢̛͙̼͕̯̣͙̺̝̘̤͈͗̈́̋͊̌ͅḞ̵͇̽̀͊͒͑͛͛̊̆̏͘͝͝i̵̺͉͋͐ğ̵̜͖͓͔̞̅̽̿̀̏͒͘͝h̷̡͚̼̞̮̜̳̠̦͋̆̑̾̒̆̌̈́̕͝͝ẗ̶̡̨͎͉͔̪͎̲̫͈̙̈́̐̌́̎ͅ ̵̡̣͇͇̘͓̦̜̜̥̪̀̉̅͂̌͠͠b̵̹̹̰̝̣̜͖̲͎̫͑́̐́͝a̸̡͍͍͈͔̰̦̣͉̘̬͎̰͈̓̑͐̃̈́̀͐͌́̔̈̚͜c̶̢̻͚̭͉̩̬̈́̃̏̌͐͗̏̈́̅̈́̉͝k̶͔̳̳͖̘̭̯̲̖̳̦̊͂̒̔͐̈́̍̌̐̔̽͝!̸̢̛͔͓͉̰̙̜̬̟͈͗͂͐̉̓̈́̿́̀̒̈́͊ͅ

    ̷̙̯͓͖͈̝̭̥͉̰̟͐́̓͛̾̊̏̌P̵̳͑́l̴̨̰͈̬̾̓̐̍̽̀̈̀̿̈́͛͐͠͝a̵̢͇̮̰͇̰͖͍͓̣̐̑̋̾̋̏̇̔̽͋̾̕͜͝͠y̸̨̗̪̗͉̲͔͎̾̂͛̕͝ ̵̡̺̟̺̜͓̣̩̠̟͕̋̾m̶̢̡͈͍̗̤͕̫̖̙͍̮̱̋͒͛̇̇́̕͘ě̶̘͙̅͒̑͐͑͋̓̎͘͘ͅ!̵̬̈́́̇̀͒͒̚͝

    ̷̡̧̡̧̣͆̏̚Ą̷̨̳̫̟̦͈͙̻̣̂͋̇̈̇̕ŕ̵̬͔̐̈̉̈́̇͗̀͂̀͐̓̄e̴̡͓̅͒̅̍̍͊̀̈̀͑̇̔̏͆́ ̶̧̢͍͊y̵͕̰̻̫͕͓̩̔̑̔͗̈́̚͠͠ǫ̸̛̜̙͓̂̇͂́͂̉̋̄͂͠͝ȗ̶̧̡͈̦̥̫̥̳̜̬̳͉̬̂̈́ ̸̦̭͎̼́͋͘͠l̶̢̻͕̦͈̱͙̤̱̄̃́̾͊̒̿̌́̏͘̕͜͝͠͝ͅi̶̢̧̼̫͚̗͉̬̝̿̿̅̿̓͑̽̽̑̈́̾͝͝s̷̜̳̮̯̹̤̫̺̯̓͘͝ͅt̴̳̒̿̔̋̔́̔͆̀͝͠ẻ̶̳̰̥̩̲͉͙̗͚̪̒̓͘͜͠͝n̷͕̟̩̭̉ȋ̵̧̹́͑͑̀̕n̷͓̱̬̦̦͙̬̠͍̝͖̼̒́̊̽͊̕̚g̵̛͖̯̙̈̇̀́̈́̂̿̏̚ ̴̨̙̼̦̝̻̜̰̳̠͗͋̾̐̂̑͋̈̒͒̉t̴͈̬̺͆̉̆̀͝ö̸̥́́̾̌̏̒̅̑̇́̋̒̂̚͝ ̵̨̭̮̬̘̖̜̱͍̟̏͗̚m̷͍̘̭̦̲̗͎̭̗̤͊͑è̴̗̝̖̹̦͓͖͓̹̜̯̿̍̓̍͘͜ͅ?̵̗͙̯͉̘̝̹͖̈!̶͓̟͚̆


    You… you lied, didn’t you? Niran asked her violin.


    D̸̡͇͈̟̣̖̯͍͉͚͍̈́̈͜͜ͅǫ̵̛̛̳͕̝̲̀͑̉̀̈́̎͌̀͊̚e̵̼͖͚̻͓͈̾̊́̿̓s̶̯̠͙̱̗̰̣͉̭̎̀͋͌͊̆̓̿͒͐͛͜͠ ̶̹̳́̅̾̚̕ĩ̸͈̦̇͊̀́́̈́̅̽̅̂t̶̢̡͍̹̼͇͓̥̞̰̬͉͊̽̈́͂̿̍͌̈́̅̕̚ͅ ̵̡̼̻͔̞̘̲͙̲̥̤̬̲̰̭́m̸̙̪͕̫͍̤̈͌̽͠͝á̶͍͖̯̳͖͂͂̋̄͐̕ͅț̵̢̧̧̛̝̰͙̯̰͚͉͈̗͚͆͑̆̈́̽̔̒͛͘̕͜ṱ̷̥̦͙̣̘͆̊̈́̈́͐̐̑̆̾̄̀̔͜͠͝͝ę̵̢̮̥͍̙̈́̇̑̂̿̀͋̈̀̍̑͘͜r̶̲͈̟̜̲̩̖̾̓̚?̵̨̢͚͕͙͇̞̮̺͌̔͒̓̈̈́̉̐͝

    ̵̨̳̞̭̖̟̞͗̽̾̑͌̃̎̈́͒͝ͅY̴̧̮͍̹̯͎̼͙̬̆̉̾̋͛̓͋͐́̕͘͝ǫ̶͔̮̲̫̩̭̳͇͍̖͆̎̾̉͆̓̄͛̀͘͝ụ̶̢͈̲̤̤̬͐̎̎̌̎̾́̋͛́͑͛͑̚̚͜ ̸̠̼̈́̃̓̓̍͠m̵̧̨̮͖̞̙̭͖̖̝͕̋͂̓̄̓̑͌͂͛̌͐̕͘u̶͕̗̱̖̻̹̱͉̖͙͍̒̈̾̍͋̃̈́̋̚͝͝s̶̡̘͕̺͈̗͗̽ẗ̶̡̧̥͗͐̕̕ ̶̛͉̭̯͓̏́̌̌̚n̴͙͕̜̬̣̯̺̹̯͉̫̘͚̘̉̑͑̃̅̽͛̉̒͘̚ő̵̢̨̹̮̤̤̼̪̤̹̪͊͐̄͋̂͛͛̍t̷̨̡̧̗̪̙̼̰̣̼̋̋̑̈́̐̄̕ ̶̛̭̈́͊͂͌̈́͌͛͊̆̕͝͠d̸̛̠̻͉̹̟̦͚̖͕͈̻̮͓̖̍͑͋̒͛̃̑̇̇́̍̇̊͝i̵̢̼͖͖̬͎̪͊͌ͅͅe̷͈̻̩̭͔̠͈̯̪͎̦̩̰̽̑͝ͅ ̶̢̻̣̹̎̈́̿̈̏͊̎̾͗͒̕͘͝͠ą̵͊̆̉͋̀̈́͛͠t̶̘̱̳̫̦͓̦̚ ̸̨̨̧̮̫͕͕̠̘̮̦͔̻̆̔̄͒̇̈͊͐͝a̴̡̢̘̹̗͉̭͔͕͇̞̍n̵͙̘͍̭͗̋͌̏̀͑̑͝y̴͓̤̿̈ ̶̢͖̘͚͓̠̋̓͋͐̒̿͌̚ć̶̡̢̨̛̹͕͇̪̙̹̜̱̪̯͊̀̒̕͜͝ͅo̵̡̢͓̮͇̼̘̠͕̫͝͝s̴̢̨̨̛̮͇̠͖͒͒̂͛̔͆̃ṭ̵̢̙̖̼̯̺͙̯̮͘ͅ!̵̧̟̻͕͕̤̳͉̼̭̿̍̔̐͆ͅ


    Hah… this is… perfect. I will die… so that no one else gets hurt.

    I will finally… be able to care for… Graagdord.


    Maybe then… I can ask for his forgiveness…



    I̴̛̳͎̜̽̂̅͆̋͝ ̴̨̢͎̟͎̯̳̳̺̼̥͛̅͋͋̋͗̊͒̀͆̿̆̚͜͝W̷̨̛̦͚͔̬̋̈́̄̉͋͆͒ͅḬ̵̛͎͌̿͋̍͗̍̆̑͋̔͒̚͠L̷̨̺͎̱͖̠͈̙͈̹̅̆͑͐̌̒͑͛L̸̛̼̪̜̜̱̭͎̝̝͕͚̖̂̉̃̀̔͜͜͠ͅ ̵̢̡̢̛̲̹̺̰͚̞̞̺̞̱̼̈́̽̈́̔̽̓̃͝͝N̷̡̲͙̩̳̠͓̑̊̓͐̃̓͂͌͗͂͋̿͐̈̂Ỗ̶̺̖͖̖͎̙̰͂̕T̸̡̺̩̬͔̻̟̪͚̼̈̅̈͠ ̴̢͕̻̯̤̬̰̞͔̘̇͑̓̆̓̑̈́͋͝Ļ̵̠͖̙͕͐Ȩ̶͎̫͙̗̩̺̜͇̝͇́́͋̚T̸͇̤͎͇̺̠̟̦͚͔͎͈͗͆̅̂͜ ̴̨̧̫͈̯̦̪̩̳͉̺̳̂̎̈́̅̐̎͒̾̐̚ͅY̸̼͎̰̖̟̫͇̬̓̃̿̊̅͋͘̚ͅƠ̶̞͈͓̱̫͊̈́̊̊͒̋͋̃͋̎̚̚͜U̶̠͎͈͑̐͌̏͑̏̑͊̄̈́̏̋̕͠ ̶̧̛̙͕͎̟̙̖̜͍͊̎́͊́́̓̀̂͒͒̚Ṕ̶̡̡̛̗̮̮̼̦͖̟̟͍̜̍́̂͊͛̀̅̌̂͒͝͝Å̶̢̱̳͎͎̤̼̼̬͎̎͑͋̇̏͆̽̌̔̄Ş̵̫̦͚͓̓͆̽́̋̂̐́̓́̕͝͝S̵̤̜͍̝̜͍͗̽͌!̶̡͇̯̜̫͖̙͙̙͚̺̲̺̝̩͒͠


    Amidst all the pain Niran suffered as the beating continued, she cocked her head towards the violin. Her face, once relieved to finally be free of this torment, slowly shifted into terror as she saw her violin emanate a dark aura on its own.


    T̷̖͎̱̤̤̤͈͕̳͂̾̾͒̍́̉̕̚͘͝H̶̛͕̜͎̹̪͈̜̆̋͊̎̅̓̌͂̇̋̕͝Ë̶̺́̈̾̀̀͝͝S̵̡͇̹͖͉̀̍͆̓̀̓̈̃̈̚E̵̞̼̤̦̯̫͙͕̥͓̺̙̎ ̸͉͎̪̰̔͊͒̓̒̍͌͝͠Ṟ̵̨̡̧͖̲̭̱̮̦̎͒̑͗̅̽͆̇̚͜͝͠ͅĂ̷̘͚̗̙̳͖̩̣̌̉̐͐̿Ṭ̷̣͎͊̊̃̄̒͌̃͐̾̀͠ͅŚ̵̢̪̻͖̠͈̱̱͗́̐͐͆̾̈́̚͘͠ ̴̞̻͚͚̟̩̖͆̍́͛̄S̷̛͉̯̠̩͉̮̣̘̣̬̠͖̒͌̎̑͜͠Ḫ̶̦͍̹̄̒̍͌́̓̈́̉͂͜͝͝ͅĂ̵̡̼̤̤̼̩͈͎͇͈͎̱͈̱͛̀̿̈́́̅L̶̛̞̭̪̀̋͐̀͋͝͝Ḻ̷̝̭͕̗̲̮̪̓͐͌͌͌̐̅͒͛̅̂͛̑̕͝ ̸̮͋̾̊͐̍̈͒̕S̷̡͉͖̞̱̪̖̖͙͈͇̏̄́̍̓̌͋̉̓̕͜Ṵ̴̞͈̐̉F̷͈̪͉̈́̒̈͝͝ͅF̶̛̙̠̔̐̽́͂̒͂̇̋̊̾̚͝E̸̛͔̬̤͈͎͑̿̏̿Ŗ̷̲̯̫͇̙̘̤̯̬̦͛͒̈́̈́́̓́̄̚͝ ̸̬͈̼̖̠̰̟̜͕̥̦̇̊̈́͗̆̔͆̇̽̊͊̆͘͘͠M̸̧̠͕̥͉̫͍͍͖͊̀͐Y̴̧̛̙͈͖̭̜̪̽̍ ̶̡̗̙̗͍͈̗̯̫̲̠̺͈͂͑͐͐̈̔̐̕̕W̸̛͚͈̱͕̮̃̈̇̿̈́̋̈́͋̒͝R̷̯͕͍͚̹̈̆̋̇̑͒̃̓̉͌̉̀͘͜Ã̶͍͖͖̄—̸̧͓̟͎̐̈́̈́͒


    NO. Niran commanded her violin. Whatever magic the violin attempted to manifest dissipated as its powers were stifled by Niran’s fierce determination. Slowly, Niran began to lose consciousness. The pain became a mere afterthought. No harm Damien and his goons could do would hurt like the torment she had to suffer over those several weeks. Niran closed her eyes, blissfully embracing her death.

    “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Niran broke from her trance and opened her eyes as best as she could… Only to see a gruesome sight.

    Niran gasped as she saw her former executioners twist and contort in horrific and impossible ways. They were all screaming in pure agony. Soon, Niran regained all of her senses, including a sudden rush of pain returning back to her. Trying her best not to lose consciousness, Niran looked over to her violin, yet it was not in a state she expected. It looked cracked and broken, just like how she found it ever since this nightmare began. Its magic looked like it was slowly dying.

    “You thought you could always run from me, didn’t you?” A new voice scolded Niran. She was forcibly picked up and turned around by cold, gnarled hands. Niran stared at the unknown beast picking her up, but she caught a glimpse of another figure in her peripheral vision.

    “Ci...Cirina?” Niran asked in bewilderment.

    “Of course it’s me! That fool Malkhan thought he could just leave you be, but I know you so much better...” Cirrina sauntered over to Niran’s violin and picked it up. She spoke a word Niran did not understand, and immediately the beast quickly ran away from the urchins, now lying dead in a pile of twisted flesh. Cirrina followed suit, showing a surprising amount of agility as she kept up with the beast.

    “Why… why did you kill them?” Niran asked. Cirrina ignored her question.

    “I am rather disappointed in you. We give you the opportunity to become a champion of our master, but instead you go out and try to kill yourself.”

    “How did you… find me?”

    “Isn’t it simple? We’ve always been watching you.”

    Niran turned away from Cirrina and looked back at the alleyway. In the twilight, she saw another urchin peek from a corner. From what little light she had, Niran could make out that the urchin was covered in bruises and gashes, just as if she had been through a beating of her own. Although Niran tried to examine the urchin further, her body began to give in, and she slowly closed her eyes. Not wanting to lose herself just yet, Niran forced herself to open her eyes, only to notice that the urchin was gone.

    “Where… are we going?” Niran asked Cirrina again.

    “All you need to know is that we are going to a place where you are not going to cause trouble. Ever. Again.” Cirrina responded with venom in her lips. 

    And then everything went to black.


    (Just a note: Niran’s not dead! She is merely unconscious)

  • @Aggroman15 It was fun battling your character! I’m really sad to see him go! Your card design was pretty cool.
  • Moktaractus and Septhis

    Akuma and Efilia where dining in a lightly crowded tavern.

    "So, did you find anything about those things?" Akuma asked.

    "Yes, I found quite much information actually." Efilia answered. 
    "It seems that Moktaractus is some kind of apocalyptic event, when the gates to the Abyss will finally break and the world will be invaded by the corruption and the monsters which are held within the abyss. Of all references I found, there was a clear popularity to one saying from some prophet of old times. She said;
    As the light of day withers away like in the depths of the sea. When the sun is covered by a mist that can not be seen by the very eye. When the only celestial light that can guide our hand  will the pure silver light of the moon, Moktaractus has begun. Take up arms. Give weapons to the strong and skilled. Take up arms. Give weapons to every man and woman. Take up arms. Give weapons to the old and young. Take up arms. Give weapons to the sick and the poor. Take up arms. Moktaractus has begun. The armies of the abyss is rising, killing, destroying and corrupting. The beasts of the abyss are set loose to destroy our homes, our villages, our cities and our castles. The corruption of the abyss is turning friend to foe, brother to enemy, child to monster, horse and dogs to beasts. Moktaractus has begun. Fight for the survival  of your child, your friends, your people, your land.The children of lady Avelaide shall join us to repel this ending doom so that the another day will come. Fight together for all we have ever been and ever will be. Fight for Avelaide. Moktaractus has begun. Septhis has come." 

    "It is the usual apocalypse prophecy then just with another paintwork. So who is Septhis"

    "That is certainly a more complicated topic." 

    Akuma sat silent and waited for Efilia to explain. 

    "Most people and sources seem to agree about Moktaractus, that is is the apocalypse and it can be stopped. Who and what Septhis is, is very disputed. In Alsoldan, they believe that Septhis is a reaction of some sort to Lady Avelaide creating this world. A kind of counter balance. By creation there needs to be destruction. Some sources are not even sure if Septhis if man or female. Some source believed that Septhis is Lady Avelaide, that she had to pay with becoming corrupt to create this world. Some believe that Septhis is just the strongest champion of the abyss and is no important character aside his or her strength. Some say that Septhis was or is being created to be a leader or general for and by the abyss or that he is the abyss. Some say that Septhis is the sixth child of Lady Avelaide. Some even say that Septhis does not even exist. 
    There seems to be as many or even more believes of who and what Septhis is than there are languages. 
    I looked into what that prophet had said about Septhis and aside from what was believed from her culture. She said that Septhis would be the only thing or being from the abyss that could and would defeat Terrodus, Lady Avelaide's oldest and strongest child."


    Akuma and Efilia continued to dine and chatter. 

  • The matches for the second stage!
    (And the preliminary arenas)

    Match 9 (Pr. Estina Forest)
    @Usaername vs @Fallen_Lord_Vulganos
     VS 

    Match 10 (Pr. The arena)
    @SpellPiper2213 vs @CassZero
     VS 

    Match 11(Pr. Prison dungeon)
    @shadow123 vs @Temurzoa
     VS 

    Match 12 (Pr. Kisla Island)
    @MonkeyPirate2002 vs @Lujiku
     VS 

    (The images will be updated later.)
    * Nilani and Efilia have been swapped for the next stage. 
    I think it will be more interesting fights this way.  
    There is also some minor story reasons. 

    The first possible date for each match is the following:
    9th match: 17th of August
    10th match: 19th of August
    11th match: 21th of August
    12th match: 23th of August

    Try to make your updates before the date. Any changes that are made after I have begun writing the match will most likely not be taken into consideration. 
    I can if, you really need more want, postpone the matches a few days. (Preferable not later than the 22th-23th. 
  • Tournament update

    I won't have the same time to spend on writing story segments and such this week since I start my new job tomorrow and I will be an "House- and Animal-guard" during the evenings. 

    I wanted to write about the arrival of the Medirnian army and introduce some new people. I must postpone this for an unknown time. Maybe I can get some free hour here and there so I can write them but we'll see. 


    Also! @Everyone
    I forgot earlier to inform you that this is a good time to come with feedback and critic. What you like, what you dislike. What you think can be improved or made different. Are there any matches which are fought in a less desirable way or more desirable way.
    Do you want more humor? more horror? more tragedy? 

    You can provide feedback and critic regardless if you are a contender, if you have been eliminated already or if you just are here to read. 
  • Nilani had won. It was not the most interesting match, but her hard work had paid off.

    "So, my next opponent is Niran, right?" Nilani said to herself.

    Nilani went to check the match announcement.

    "What? I'm- I'm battling the slime?"

    There was a sinking feeling in Nilani's stomach. She had seen Squrturglus fight, and the slime was a powerful opponent.

    I must learn everything about the slime. I know that ooze has been up to something, and to start, I must learn everything I can about the city...

    _

    @Temurzoa Good luck! I'm honestly so nervous because of how creative you character is. May the best champion win!
  • @Jonteman93 Hmmm...I like the story bits you've been writing. I don't have too much feedback to give since you're doing such an awesome job! I think the one thing I'm curious about is how you're judging the story aspect of the characters. Does it have to do with how well the story is written? The characters' connections within Kiserova? The character's desire to win? Is there a way you could clarify what you're looking for a little bit, so each remaining cardsmith can help make their story appeal to you?

    Keep up the amazing work! I always love reading your matches/story bits and there are some days where I just wait and check mtgcardsmith to see if the Tournament has been updated.

    One last question- As far as the plot of Kiserova itself, should we message you about something if we want to incorporate that into our character's story?

    Thanks, and keep up the great work @Jonteman93 ! I'm loving all the effort you're putting into this contest.
  • @shadow123, if I may:

    Akuma and Nilani found each other at their training grounds. They hadn't planned it beforehand, but something had drawn them both there. Feelings of apprehension? loneliness? fear?

    A light rain was falling, pattering on the leaves and collecting in droplets on blades of grass in the clearing. The two girls leaned against a tree, quietly listening to the comforting sounds of the rain. Akuma had always liked the rain. she bit her lip and sat up. Nilani looked over.

    "Are you alright?" She asked. Akuma let out the breath she had been holding.

    "I'm scared, Nilani. Really scared." Nilani sat up and slid a little closer.

    "What are you scared about?" she asked. Akuma drew her knees up to her chest.

    "Moktaractus. Septhis. The abyss. The end of the world? not to mention the political turmoil. I'm worried that if one thing goes wrong, it's all going to come crashing down. The tournament. Us too." Akuma paused for a moment, her breathing becoming fast and ragged. 

    "We're on the brink of something catastrophic, and there's not only one way it happens! People will die. Lots of people." Tears welled up in Akuma's eyes.

    "I don't want to die! I don't... I may masquerade as a brave warrior, but inside? I'm just a coward. And there's no honor in being a coward..." Akuma trailed off as tears streamed freely down her face.

    "Help me" she sobbed. Nilani pulled Akuma closer to her and hugged her tightly. They sat there in silence for several minutes before Nilani spoke.

    "I'm scared too. This is a lot bigger than anything I've ever been involved in. This is bigger than all of us. Bigger than the tournament. Bigger than Kiserova. I'm afraid of dying too. We are only human, after all. Cowardice isn't to be afraid of death, Akuma! It's to deny your fear altogether. I won't tell you not to be afraid. But know that even If we do die, I'll die happy. We got to meet eachother, right?" Nilani slowly trailed off.

    The two friends sat silently in their embrace, comforted by the presence of the other, listening to the rain. The the tournament, the city, the world, even, was sure to change.

    But for the time being,

    There was peace.
  • @Jonteman93 more horror and tragedy!! the horror so far has been top notch so far, really keeping me on the edge of my seat. As for tragedy, well, who doesn't love a good tragedy? Now that I think about it, Nilani and Akuma have the most developed character relationship, so tragedy would probably see one of them die... Eh do it anyways I'm a sucker for some good feels
  • edited August 2020
    While she walked in the light drizzle of the late morning, Efilia's brain swarmed with thoughts. Septhis, Moktaractus, the constant tension in the air, the tournament at hand. She'd been lucky in her last match. If she had hesitated at any point, she would've been a goner. And that was currently the least of her worries with the tournament.
    When it came to the seven other remaining champions, Efilia was made horrendously nervous. Akuma, Jelene, Brynn, and Aeryn were all experienced fighters, foes she couldn't possibly hope to match up to in physical combat when it came down to it. For those, she'd need to use the little magic she'd learned and the materials she carried with her. But then at the opposite end of the spectrum were Niran and Nilani, magic users whose own abilities doubtlessly outweighed hers. She didn't doubt her own ability, and maybe she could defend herself for a small amount of time, but the small vampire knew that in a clash of power against either of them, she'd certainly be crushed.
    So what Efilia needed was something that would not only enable her to go on the offensive against those that wielded magic, but also potentially buy her a few precious seconds against the martial fighters. This was a riddle, and there was one clear answer: she would need a weapon.
    But what kind of weapon could she use? Claymores and axes were out of the question, as she'd need a hand free to use with her materials. She probably wasn't strong enough to lift such large weapons anyways. A dagger or knife could work, as they were light enough that she'd certainly have a hand free, but they didn't solve the issue of maintaining a defense against the melee inclined. So she needed a one handed weapon that was still large enough to go on defense. A shield? It technically worked, but didn't permit going on the offensive very effectively.
    Efilia continues to ponder this quandary as she walks, only half paying attention where she was going, enough to avoid walking into anyone, and her guide not far behind. With how niche her weapon needs felt, she'd probably need to research something obscure and exotic. Such a weapon would of course would then be a struggle to find in the city, regardless of how populous it was. Well, she was on her way to the library anyways to see if there had been anything she missed in her prior research, maybe she'd need to spend part of her afternoon trying to find weapons that fit-

    "Ack!"

    The girl's train of thought was interrupted as she bumped into someone, despite her prior care to do so. When had this small crowd formed? The people didn't see angry or happy, just... focused. But on what? Her curiosity was burning to know. She pushes her way through the crowd, and after what felt like a dozen "excuse me" and "pardon me"s, she finds herself just as fixated as the others.
    It was a show, no, a spectacle, put on by two extravagantly dressed men, a human and an elf. Their movements were graceful, careful, and elegant, like they were dancing. But what drew Efilia's attention more than anything else was what they were holding. Both of them held what appeared to be a long and slender sword, with most of the weight clearly closer to the handle. All it took was a flick of the wrist for them to wield the full movement range of the blade.
    Efilia's eyes glowed with the realization. (No, not literally, as that'd be concerning.) A rapier was the weapon she needed. Light enough to hold in one hand so the other could access her materials, but large and disruptive enough to go on the defense. It was perf-
    The young vampire's train of thought was disrupted again as the performance ended with a rather fake skewering and exaggerated sounds of defeat. The men bowed to the crowd with a flourish, and the human took of his hat with the extravagant feather and offered it upside down, asking the crowd for tips. Efilia tossed a coin in, feeling it was only fair, and rushed about her way. She had an objective now.
    Several hours later she was striding down the street with a brand new weapon at her hip and carrying several books. One was a more advanced tome on the field she'd been reading about, one was a book on the local mythologies, and the final tome was a beginner's guide to handling, of course, a rapier. Her plan? To learn what she could in theory, and then try to track down one of the two performers she'd seen to hopefully give her a lesson in applied practice.
    But for now, she was going to be dropping the books at her current abode, and then be paying a certain someone a visit...

    (New signature card for Efilia.)
  • @shadow123
    In simple terms, I look for the effort that you have put into the story of your characters. 

    In reality it is both the amount, how interesting it is and the interactions which the character has with the characters and the world around them. 

    I judge the characters after both check-boxes and the quality and quantity of the writing. 

    Check-boxes:
    Does the character has a backstory of some kind or does it have a reason that it does not have one?
    Does the character have a reason to win or a reason to not lose? 
    Does the character make sense?
    Does the character has strengths and weaknesses?
    Does the character interact with anything that is made by someone else, me or other contestant? 

    Quantity and quality is then judged on:
    Backstory, Interactions with characters and world, character development, character reactions to events. 

    This does not completely describe it but try to catch my interest both in your character, your writing and of course your cards. 
    Giving me a reason to use your characters directly or indirectly in story segments that are not fights is a bonus.  

    I get bored by characters that-
    - are best at everything and can do everything for the reason of "why not".
    - never interacting with anything made by someone else.
    - are forever kept in the comfort zone of the writer even when tested. 
    - are always succeeding.


    I'll try to think if there is a better way for me to describe this. 
  • @Jonteman93 I don’t think there’s a better way! This should be helpful to all the competitors.
  • edited August 2020
    (For the previous part of the flashback, go to the first part of the flashback)

    -                     -
    - FLASHBACK -
    -                    -
    Nilani woke up in a small room with metal walls, a locked metal door, and a small window at the top where light flowed through. There was a small mattress on the ground and an old table which seemed like it was about to break. There was an old vase on the table with a single rose in it Those two pieces of furniture took up a little less than half of the room.

    Nilani let a blast of golden energy loose from her hands. It rebounded off the wall and slammed into the vase, shattering it into tiny pieces.

    It's my birthday today! Who would take me like this?

    "Hello?" Nilani called.

    The door opened. The same mage entered the room, except without a cloak. He had long silvery hair, yet he didn't look super old. His eyes were a piercing, cold blue that made Nilani want to hide.

    "I hope you can get used to this room for awhile," he said.

    "What? You're keeping me here?"

    "Ha!" the evil mage exclaimed, "You're going to be doing so much more. Just you wait..."

    The man closed the door behind him and closed the shutters for the window. He was at least a foot taller than Nilani.

    "Sit," he commanded Nilani.

    Nilani went over to her mattress. She sat down, scared.

    If he wanted to kill me, I'd already be dead right? So, what does he want to do with me?

    He took a small bottle out of his robes and thrust it at Nilani.

    "Have this," he said.

    Nilani glared at him.

    I need to have this...I don't know what he'll do to me otherwise!

    She drank the contents of the bottle. Suddenly, she felt a huge pain in her stomach. It felt like there was something tearing everything inside her apart. Nilani screamed and collapsed onto her knees. When Nilani looked up at the evil mage, she saw him smiling.

    "You're a tough girl...you know, the last one died from the pain," he laughed.

    "Who do you think you are?" Nilani gasped, still suffering from the intense pain.

    The mage smiled evilly. "Me? I'm Mystus, and I work for The Red Queen."

    I must survive. I must escape. I must find a way to stop having that poison. I can be strong. Can't I?


    (Note: This is NOT my new signature/companion card)

    -                                  -
    - END OF FLASHBACK -
    -                                -
  • edited August 2020
    @Jonteman93
    The moon was in its full glory, as two people were conversing on a rooftop of a random civilian's house.

    "You sure keeping an eye to the events around hm?" Asked a certain ronin.

    "Of course I do. It is our job to literally 'gather informations' from around this world. Did you hear that one of the contestants disappeared for an uncertain amount of time? Or the rumors about a certain apocalyptic event that will happen in this world?" Answered the only person that qualified as her real companion. 

    Jelene only gazed at the moon with distant eyes.

    "I... heard the rumors about this... Moktaractus event from a certain tavern, obviously. It's something about an invasion of the demons that came from another world... or something like that." Jelene frowned. "And there's this Septhis fellow... the one who could stop this appcalypse, or the one that's supposed to. And for the first question, I think I know who you're talking about. I do keep tabs on my possible opponents too, Jan. Most of the time anyway." 

    "Heh, good to know that your eavesdropping skill is still fine." The bearded man smirked. But his expression also became a thoughtful one afterwards. "And yes, that Niran girl is indeed a troubled one, even more so after she literally killed that goblin contestant. Plus some of my urchins were found dead with horrible disfigurement. And guess who did it, hm? Even I'm at loss about how to think about it. Now those children won't even dare to go out at night too." The man sighed.

    "To hell with your urchins spy network. Do you even aware that that warlock also has a demonic presence in her too? And unlike me, it seems that she's indeed mentally very unstable because of it. Only kami- gods know what would happen if the thing in her escapes and rampaging across this kami-forsaken land." Added the rogue samurai with a sigh too. "Why am I even concerned about this... Did the Leader also gave us an extra task to defend this land anyway?"

    "Maybe. Maybe HE also has some sort of rivalry against those abyssal abominations. HE's obviously powerful and certainly is an influential demon lord too. I don't know exactly what HE wants us to do. The last time I informed HIM about this Moktaractus event that will certainly happen at some point, he just said 'Just continue to gather informations about that world. Only aid those people if there is no other way. I shall send more of our forces if only you both died. And you know what will happen if both of you jeopardize your contracts by committing suicide or disobeying my orders.' Exclaimed her brother with a somewhat exaggerated gruff voice.

    Jelene only shook her head due to her brother's antics.

    "Real swell guy isn't it, our Leader? Anyway. Now look." Then he pulled a telescope and pointed towards the sound of clinging steels that faintly could be heard from that distance  and simply offered the rogue samurai the ocular device.

    Jelene silently took the device and observed the commotion in the distance through the lenses. 

    "... It's just that little vampire girl, who is currently hitting some wooden training dummies with a... rapier? I don't think that she has a talent for swordsmanship anyway." The ronin folded the telescope back. "Remind me why is this important anyway." And she gave her brother a flat look.

    "Efilia is not a fighter indeed, neither she's an adept wizard or a ravenous blob of an ooze. And that proves my suspicion that this tournament is rigged from the beginning. Anyone, or anything technically, can win this tournament because of sheer 'luck', or 'godly intervention', or if the judges want it anyway." The bearded person shrugged.

    A prominent pause.

    "... I know that I'm not mean to win this. We are just pawns in some cruel... cosmic game of chess. And kami forbid that I'm going to sure as hell try to enjoy my chained life while at it." Honestly, Jelene didn't know what really was truly enjoyable for her at that point. But one thing that was sure for her: Fighting had always made her really feel something. 
  • @Jonteman93 (But do we really have to do crossover stories with each other contestants?)
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