Case Subject: William Arcus

[Revenant]

Closed
Something tickled the back of William’s mind…

Was it a thought? No.

Was it a dream? No.

Was it a feeling? Yes. Yes, that’s what it was, a feeling. It was a familiar feeling. An intimate feeling. It was a feeling that he should immediately recognize and yet, for some reason, the nature of the feeling eluded him. For some reason he just couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was and he wasn’t sure why.

That should have seemed strange to the revenant, but for some reason it didn’t.

And then, as faint as a flickering candlelight in the darkness, there was something else in his mind along with the feeling. This one he knew though, this one he understood. This was a sound; harsh, low, and grating. It was a sound that reminded him of dry metal being dragged across rough stone.

That’s odd, his mind finally reacted, registering his observation. What else sounds like metal dragging on stone?

And then William remembered what that feeling was. It was pain.

Groggily, as if he were clawing his way out of quicksand, the revenant opened his eyes. It was a stupid thing to do, for as soon as he did it his entire world was lost in a burning haze of brilliant white.

“Ah,” he cried out, his instinct taking over and making it his first action to clamp his eyes back shut. His second reaction, to bring his forearm up to blot out the light, was a different matter entirely, if complete failure could be called a different matter.

Huh, it took a few moments for the fact to filter through the haze of pain pounding a staccato beat in the back of his head. I can’t move my arms…

“Why can’t I move my arms!?” he cried out in panic and immediately wished that he had remained silent. For one thing, it came out as more of an unintelligible slur than proper words and, for another, the sound of his own voice sent a fresh wave of pain rolling through his brain.

[i]What the hell is going on? the thought was frenetic and worried.

Calm down, he urged himself, trying to stave off the growing panic, think this through. Remember that, no matter what, nothing can really hurt you.

Part of the ritual that had rebirthed William as a revenant had been the binding of a restorative spirit of creation with his soul. The intent had been to allow his body to repair the damage his demonic power did to it when it manifested, but it had the pleasant side effect of repairing any damage done to him from any source. There was nothing that could really do any lasting damage to him.

Was there?

He had to admit, the hammering throb of pain in the back of his head was different from any painful sensation that he had ever gone through. Something was different, something had happened to the revenant. Slowly, more and more of his situation came to him, as though reality had been covered by a thick quilt which was slowly being pulled off of him. He remembered making his way through the streets of Radasanth on one of his rare trips away from his recent studies of the library in Sei Orlogue’s cavernous home. He remembered how the dark urges in the back of his mind had been building, clamoring for a bloody release, and his intent to head to the Citadel to relieve the pressure. He remembered a sharp, biting pain in t he back of his neck as he passed one of the countless dark alleyways lining Radasanth’s streets.

And then he remembered nothing.

I need to know what’s going on, his mind screamed in desperation, the panic driving him forward. He opened his eyes again, gritting his teeth against the blinding pain that burned clear through into the back of his already tortured brain.

Finally, after an agonizing eternity, his vision cleared.

[The Trap Master]

As William’s vision cleared, a magical swirl of blue magics formed before his very eyes. The swirls soon took a form like that of a puddle of water, and the face of Max Dirks could be seen in the ‘reflection’. Dirks was a good friend of Sei Orlouge, and one who would have easy access to the mute’s cave on a consistent basis. It should have come to no surprise to William that his captor was someone so familiar to the Tomb. Max tilted his head towards William before speaking to him.

“There is a lesson to be learned, William Arcus. You have spent your second life in bloodthirsty rages, as well as in fits of beating yourself up. Your healing factor as a Revenant has saved you thus far from any serious damage, but I have taken care of that. The tranquilizer I used to sedate you was also filled with a healing suppressant. I have also coated the room with several magical runes to prevent any unnatural recovery to make sure you won’t be recovering from your wounds any time soon.” The face was that of the infamous gunslinger, but something was odd about the voice. The vocals being used did not sound like that of Max Dirks at all. Furthermore, the serious tone he was undertaking hinted at an imposter.

“You’ve regretted not being powerful enough to save your wife and child, William. You’ve spent countless days beating yourself up for not being strong. You now have the strength, but I’m going to show you that you can still be beat up. Above us is a sand bang filled with pure lead. The sandbag will constantly drop upon your stomach, causing severe internal damage. Each time the bag drops, it will rise a little higher before dropping again. I would estimate that you have three minutes before the bag mashes your organs into paste. The only way to escape is in your hands, William. You hold in each of your hands a trigger of sorts. By pressing down on the button, the cuffs that bind your hands will crush your wrists, making both your hands as a woodman and your claws as a revenant useless to you. However, the cuffs will release once your wrists have been crushed. You will lose the power you have gained, but you will be alive. Is it worth having so much power if it means you will die in the end? It’s time to make that decision.” With that, the magical pool swirled once again with azure colors before disappearing.

The swirls began to disappear and the lights seemed to grow brighter. William would find himself lying on a table, the described sandbag hovering about five feet above him. The sandbag appeared to be connected to a chain leading into a hole within the ceiling. In each of William’s hands were devices that were similar to answer buzzers, complete with a big red button at the top. The room smelled of ammonia and lime, with white walls surrounding all four sides. William’s table was directly in the middle, and the only other object in the room was a steel door with the words ‘YOUR STREGNTH IS NOT IN YOUR HANDS!’ smeared across with red paint. It was time for William to go through the first trial of The Trap Master.


John Shelby stood only fifteen feet above William, in the room that the sandbags chain was connected to. He had asked for a bed and a vanity to be placed in this room of the citadel. It was one of William’s various safe houses, for who would search for The Trap Master in the citadel? John’s eyes followed the links in his chain all the way to the large device that sat at the foot of his bed. There was a green button to release more chain, and thus drop the sandbag, and a red one to pull the chain and sandbag alike upwards.

John looked over to the mirror on his vanity. The image of William Arcus sprawled out upon the table replaced the man’s reflection. John had been growing progressively less stable as he chose more and more victims for his tests. He didn’t care; his sanity was a small price to pay for the ability to have people learn their lessons. John slowly walked over to the machine with a sadistic smile.

“Good luck William…” he whispered as he hit the green button to start the test.

[Revenant]

“Guh… whu…,” William slurred, the fading sedative making his tongue feel thick and unmanageable. His head still throbbed like it had been trampled beneath a stampeding bull, but the ache was starting to subside. As it did so however, William was struck by the various other throbbing aches that covered his body, most notably the cold, dull pain of the manacles that bit into his wrists.

Why would Dirks do this, he thought, struggling against the bonds to no avail. Was that Dirks? It didn’t sound like him. Knowledge of his situation had answered his initial questions, but it had left a dozen more in its wake. He could feel panic’s icy hands clawing at his gut and forced himself to breath and remain calm. Blind hysteria could only hurt him at this point. William focused on taking assessment of his situation, slowly brining his raging thoughts back under rein. He could still feel his regeneration fighting against the pain that he felt, but it was hazy and indistinct, like a figure watching him from the opposite shore of a mist shrouded lake. Apparently Max Dirks, or whoever it was that wore the gunman’s face, hadn’t been lying about repressing his restorative capabilities.

“Thi … this is a joke, right?” he fought to shake off the last of the sedative’s restraining effects, “some sort of test to see if I’m a danger to the Mystic?”

A soft releasing click from the ceiling chain gave William all the warning he needed and the revenant tensed his stomach to absorb the sandbag’s fall. A life of felling trees and hauling wood had made William’s body fit and muscled, and the battles and conflicts he had endured had left him able to take a punch with the best of them, but the sheer weight of the lead filled sack overcame his estimations and drove into him like a punch from a professional brawler. “Whuff,” William grunted as the bag struck, driving the air from his lungs. As soon as the bag had settled, it had started rising back into position over him. Confused panic roared back to life within the bound revenant, but it was overshadowed by the flare of inhuman rage had been wakened.

“Fuck you Dirks,” William rasped in a dry, pain filled voice, “or whoever the fuck you are.”

True to Dirks’ word, the bag rose a little higher the second time, giving it that much more time to speed up before slamming into the revenant’s gut. William continued to tense, holding back the bludgeoning pain through sheer force of will. But though the tightness of his muscles held firm, the second strike definitely made more of an impact.

“If you know so much about me, coward, then you know that I’m not the type of guy you fuck around with,” William hissed loudly, bracing himself for the next fall.

The third strike slammed home into William’s gut, leaving the revenant gasping with the amount of effort that had been required to keep him stomach clenched. Still, each blow resonated through his body, shaking him to his core. He didn’t know how long he could hold out and he could feel the pressure of his inhuman power whispering to him, telling him that he could be strong enough to break free is he would only call forth his power. But even as the desperate thought entered his mind he heard his reason warning him that, without his restorative capabilities, the molten power in his veins would burn him alive from the inside out.

“You think you can break me like this?” the revenant spat a laugh, but this time there was a tinge of desperation to his voice.

Just push the damned buttons, a voice in his mind cried out. Another click and another fall of the bag. William couldn’t quite tense hard enough to block out this blow and its strike sent a burst of pain rolling through him. His strength and resistance was already giving out, and there would be no stopping any more of the falling bags.

“You can take my hands,” William wheezed, taking several deep, panting breaths to stabilize the pain, “but when I find you I’m just going to tear your throat out with my teeth.”

William readied his hands over the buzzer triggers and mentally braced himself to push them.

One, two, three, go.. he screwed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, but his hands wouldn’t respond. The demon roared inside his mind, cursing him for his cowardice.

A fifth drop of the sand bag knocked all sense of the world from his mind. He felt something inside, something soft and squishy, burst, sending lances of pain stabbing through every nerve in his body. Already lost in the mindless pain, William’s instinct’s took over and gripped the triggers in his hands.

[The Trap Master]

John smiled at the sickening crunch of bones followed by the rhapsody of screams from William Arcus. The cuffs had crushed the man's wrists within seconds and caused blood to ooze out of the new pores that they had created. As soon as the wrists had been smashed, the cuffs released the prisoner, and the door opened. John quickly hit the red button a second time to make the sandbag stop its ascension. John looked to the mirror as William began to get up from the table.

John knew that the man would probably take some time to assess his damages. After all, it was the first time in a long time that the Revenant actually had the fear of death put into him. John walked over to the other side of his bed, where an oak nightstand stood. Reaching onto the surface of the night stand, John took the notebook and pen that had been placed there days earlier.

The man flipped through a few pages of his notebook as he began to write his analysis. "Subject is vulgar when put in situations of extreme duress. Perhaps attaining a subject with an already fragile psyche needed further investigation. Subject also appears to have realized that I am not Max Dirks from the tone of my voice. Subject has passed the first trial, awaiting further observation for the second trial."

John placed the notebook and pen down as he looked back to the mirror. Surely William would have had enough time to recover from his wounds now. Or maybe that was simply John's own psychosis speaking.

William would be able to barely see anything if he looked through the doorway of the second room. The only thing that gave any indication as to the test was the fact that the room seemed to shrink the further William went in, and the note that stood between the light of the first room and the darkness of the second.

[Revenant]

The pain was the most intense thing William had ever experienced. He thought he knew pain, thought that the searing agony brought on by each demonic transformation had made him intimately familiar the sensation. He had thought wrong. This was pain as he had never experienced it before, a pure white brilliance that filled his mind until there was room for nothing else in it. There was no feeling of the metal table where he lay, there was no smell of ammonia and lime, and there wasn’t even any cognizance of the sound of his own screams. All of it, everything in existence, was washed away in the flood of suffering. Even the demonic urges that constantly whispered in the back of his mind were solemnly silent throughout, paying deference to a power greater than themselves.

Yet even though the screaming pain remained, the white tide didn’t last forever. The chamber all too slowly resolved back into focus around William. Taking his time, William gathered enough focus to roll off the table, though even this act caused him excruciating pain. He paused for a moment at the edge of the table, breathing through the pain, and used his forearms to push himself onto his unsteady feet.

It’s done, his mind panted, unable to force his agonized throat to speak the words. The lead filled sandbag hung just above his previous position, proof that it had halted mid-fall as soon as he had pushed the buttons which had ruined his hands. Across the room, the steel door that marked the chamber’s only exit stood open, silent and waiting.

Just have to get out, he thought, trying to walk forward on legs like wet noodles. He bobbed unsteadily on the first step but managed to stay upright. The second step, however, was an utter failure and William’s leg gave out, sending him sprawling to the floor. As he fell, the revenant instinctively thrust his hands out in front of him to catch him fall. His scream of utter pain filled the room again as the weight of his fall descended upon the hunks of shattered meat that had been his hands.

Piteous whimpering sounds slipped from between William’s lips as he rocked back and forth on the floor, cradling his ruined hands. He hadn’t experienced this much agony since being beaten to within an inch of his life at the hands of Rebecca’s killers. He had stalked the mercenaries after they had killed his pregnant wife, taking their lives one by one, but they had been trained killers and he was only a woodsman. They had set an ambush for him, had taken him, and had beaten him so severely that he would have been crippled for life if the sorcerer Kal’Necroth hadn’t used his infernal magic to bind the demonic essence into his soul. Since then his pain had always been muted by the restorative capabilities of his revenant physique. But not now, not with the magic wards filling the room and the suppressant filling his veins. Now he was nothing more than a shattered woodsman laid bare at the hands of a merciless power.

No, a voice in the back of his mind snarled, you are not just a simpering, helpless coward. You are more than human, and you have been through enough to know that you can make it through this. Bolstered by the very urges that he so often fought to deny, William over and pushed himself to his feet, using his elbows to keep pressure off his hands.

“I’ve done your deed,” William gasped as he walked, loud enough to be heard by any listening ears, “you won’t stop me now.”

But instead of being greeted by freedom on the other side of the door William only found a closed note and a darkened hallway. Slumping down, William looked from the note to the corridor with shock and disbelief. Shuddering, the revenant reached for the note, opening it as best he could without the use of his throbbing hands and read.

"There is a lesson to be learned...

You have grown accustomed to crawling in the darkness, William. What answers do you think you will find there? I'm simply asking you to crawl through the darkness once more, with a few surprises along the way. If you do not reach the exit within ten minutes, the doors will seal you in here forever. Once you complete this trial, perhaps you will stop your crawling and finally stand up and accept who you are."
“No,” William whimpered, and though he was mentally disgusted with his action, could not stop, “no, no, no.”

William’s breaths caught in ragged bursts, and he would have broken into tears if his body could have remembered how. But instead he just slumped over, defeated.

“I’ve done what you asked. What more do you want from me?”

[The Trap Master]

John sat back as he watched William move from the table into the next room. It seemed as though the woodsman was as harmless as a baby without his healing factor to help him. John stood form his bed as he approached his mirror, pressing a hand to it. The man cleared his throat as he spoke, the voice echoing into the room William Arcus was in.

"That's right, give up again. I mean, you couldn't protect Rebecca, and she was having your child. I guess you'll always be a sad sack of humanity, or what's left of your humanity." John removed his hand from the window to await William's reaction. The older man was attempting to bring out the rage in his victim, provoking him into continuing his journey through the tests. After all, it wouldn't have been that interesting if the man already gave up.

John smiled as he thought about the next trap. The room William was in was twenty feet long and continuously shrinking in size the further in he got. At five feet in, the Revenant would discover glass shards littered on the ground. Ten feet in would find William's back and arms scraping against the glass laden ceiling and walls. Fifteen feet would force William to struggle through the glass on all sides with every ounce he had left in him.

After nineteen feet, the room would become large again, and give William access to the open door ahead. There was no trick to getting to the door other than surviving. This trap was supposed to prove that anyone could crawl out of the pain of anything with enough willpower. John admired his own metaphorical design of the trap as he went back to his bed. Reaching back over to the night stand, John grabbed his parchment and writing utensil of choice.

He awaited William's decision.

[Revenant]

Rebecca, William thought. The bastard son of a whore knew about Rebecca. Rebecca, who was thin and hardy, with an easy smile and an easier laugh. Rebecca, who was more at home in their shared cabin in the woods than she was in the village proper. Rebecca, who had died on bandits’ blades with their unborn child in her womb while William had been off working wood.

A scream cut through the shadowy tunnel, a feral sound of frustration and anger, and it took William a second to recognize that sound of his own voice. In that instant, lost in his boundless rage, all humanity in William vanished. There was nothing left of the sniveling human weakling that William pretended to be and in its place, with the façade of his human life torn away, stood the revenant. And the revenant was a living weapon, a creature that did not shy away from pain and death.

There was no hesitation left in William, who scuttled forward on his forearms and elbows to keep pressure off his shattered hands. Each reach dragged him forward another inch, and each was punctuated by a snarling growl that echoed down the claustrophobic tunnel. A red tide rose in his field of vision, crowding out everything else in his mind to the point that nothing existed except for his rage. Five feet down the tunnel he completely disregarded the first shards of glass that dug into his arms as irrelevant.

“No,” he snarled, uncaring if his captor could even hear him, “you’re not going to stop me that easily.”

Ten feet down William could feel the jagged edges of the glass biting into his back and sides as well as his arms and legs, but he refused to let it stop him. Waves of heat poured out of the tunnel now, as William’s molten blood seeped from countless cuts and gashes. Pain pulsed like fire across his body, but William had experienced more than enough trauma to his flesh from his own transformations to know that this would not stop him.

But at fifteen feet the tunnel narrowed again and William was forced to snake crawl through the tunnel, exposing his belly to the biting glass.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” William growled as his first forward pull lacerated his gut in several places. The rage still surged behind his eyes, but the pain and blood loss were starting to rapidly catch up. He was so close, only five or so feet from the edge of the tunnel, but those promised to be the worse five feet. Still, there was no going back and the clock his captor had placed on the trial was steadily counting down. It was either subject himself to the horrible pain for a little longer or be trapped in this jagged hell until he fully bled out.

“Not much of a choice,” the revenant hissed and, screaming to dull the pain, hauled himself the last five feet.

[The Trap Master]

John's smile began to fade as William slowed through the tunnel. It came back once he saw the Revenant push forward to the final five feet. The former woodsman stumbled a bit getting back to his feet, but made his way through the second door. This would be the final test, one that would see William Arcus absolved of all his previous sins.

Unfortunately, the form of the victim dropped to the ground before John's very eyes. The Trap Master had anticipated every second of this, however. That was why he had set up the next room so perfectly for his captive. Anyone who could endure the other two trials should have been given an easy third test. John obliged such thoughts and also found a way to motivate William Arcus a bit.

Once the Revenant looked forward, he would find a stuffed female dummy. Her features were made to resemble that of his beloved Rebecca. John had even gone through the sick details of placing a pillow under the 'corpse' to simulate a pregnancy. In the middle of the pregnant belly was a knife with a note on it. This was not the explanation of the test, however. Instead, in big letters written in what appeared to be blood were the words 'Daddy's a failure'. This would surely enrage the man to no end, and push him to complete his final task.

The last letter was tacked upon the door. On each side of the steel entrance were two indentions that led into a black abyss. The letter clarified such a simple task.

"There is a lesson to be learned....

You must accept who you are as compared to who you were, William. The old you was weak, useless, and could not even protect your family. The new you is strong and powerful, but you must discover new purpose in life. You can not sulk over past mistakes, no matter how great. The last door can be opened easily if you stick your hands in the holes. Your regular fingers will not be able to hit the buttons at the end of the indentions, however. You must transform in order to set yourself free. The only problem, as you and I both know, is that by transforming, your insides literally burn to a crisp. How long can you stand your own fiery rage in order to save yourself? Give it your best shot, for it may well be your last..."

John stood from his bed once more after writing a few more notes in his book. Walking over to a small closet, John opened the doors to find the robes of an Ai'Bron monk. Slipping off his own clothes, John placed the robes over his form as he began to make his way to the citadel. He would see William Arcus face to face, live or die. He would find a memento of the student, and use it to help someone else. It was the way of the Trap Master

[Revenant]

Of course it’s not finished, William groaned as the passageway door swung open to reveal yet another test. He was mentally exhausted from the ordeal that he had already come through and his entire body alternately felt like a lead weight and a single oozing sore of pain. But though the revenant wanted nothing more than to slump over and let his life ooze from his shredded flesh there was another test in front of him, another trial to overcome.

But William’s exhaustion and pain was nothing compared to the fresh surge of anger and resentment that swelled within his breast at the sight of the mocking dummy that his captor had laid bare for him on the room’s cold steel floor. “Still,” he roared to the empty air, hoping that whoever had set up this elaborate display still listened, “you mock me; mock my pain. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, you bastard. There’s nothing that you can come up with that I won’t claw my way through and when I do, I’m coming after you. Do you hear me?” William was shouting now, hysterical, as he staggered towards the steel door that would lead him out of this tormenting nightmare and the note his captor had left there. But all drunken defiance fled from William as he read the note’s hollow words.

So that’s it then, William slumped against the wall. This was nothing more than a twisted joke and I was always meant to die. William’s weary eyes sought out the faux dummy of his wife in the center of the room, not that I don’t deserve death. Perhaps it’s right that I’m finally punished for all of the things I’ve done.

Deep in his core, buried within the center of his flesh, William could feel the last remnants of the health suppressing drugs dissipate. Over time, he knew, the restorative properties of his body would return to normal and he would heal and be able to resist any further torments brought upon him. An astute observer could see William’s eyes harden at that moment and would note the bar of steel that slid into his spine. With a mental flick of the wrist, William loosed the barriers holding his demonic power back, welcoming the searing pain that came with the molten tide.

“Even though I die today, you won’t win,” the words spilled unheeded from lips that were blackening from an internal fire that blazed as hot as the sun. “What I do now, I do of my own bidding.”

William turned to face the holes in the steel door that would provide his freedom. The pain that his power brought was more intense than anything he had ever felt, but there was a certain calm that came with it, a calm of acceptance. The spirit bound to William was strong, and it didn’t take long to burn completely thought William’s flesh. Ashes fell like rain from William’s body and flames licked through the openings they left behind. Blackened shards of twisted bone formed over William’s hands, extending his reach just enough to jab into the releases in the back of the bolt holes and the last door swung open with a soft click.

Most of the bulk of William’s arms were left behind inside the release holes as William retracted them and stumbled through the door. He was little more than a fire-wreathed skeleton at this point, held together only by the force of his will and his demonic power. Seeing his freedom, William opened his mouth to hiss one last defiant declaration only to have his jaw bone crumple to ashen dust as he did so. And within seconds, the rest of him followed.

[The Trap Master]

As the door opened, John Shelby came face-to-face with his victim. Watching the man turn to ash and blow away with the citadel's breeze, John frowned in disappointment. Part of him wanted William to get out of the trial alive, while the other part enjoyed watching the display before him. As several actual monks came to the aid of the Revenant, scooping up the majority of the ashes and taking them to their healing rooms, John stayed in the background.

When he was left alone in the room, John walked over to what few ashes remained. Taking the left over ash, John reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial. He placed William's 'corpse' in the vial and began to walk into the second room. Once he eyes how much of the former woodsman's blood was upon the glass, he flashed a sadistic grin. John slowly made his way to some of the hanging glass and gripped it with his fingers, tugging ever so gently as he pried it from its position on the 'ceiling'.

John had tugged a little too quickly, however, as he nicked his hand on some of the glass that lay below on the floor. John swore under his breath a bit as he took the glass on the ground as well. He tucked his hand into his jacket to try and clot his wound. He couldn't afford to leave evidence behind that would incriminate him. Placing the two glass shards in his pocket, John turned around and left. William had both passed and failed, leaving John in a state of contemplation as to where he should go from here...


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

"Sarge! I found something!" Eric Oak yelled excitedly to his commanding officer. Sasori Abner walked over to the scene, kneeling down and viewing what Oak saw with his brown orbs. "You're right Oak," Abner said, "That is definitely blood, and blood that did not belong to William Arcus. But I don't see the glass that made the cut."

"Could be possible he took it with his bleeding hand sir. It would make sense, he grabs the glass, the blood is still pouring from his wound, and he doesn't realize that one or two drops managed to drip onto the other glass." Sasori nodded at the assessment, standing up while Eric took the piece of glass with John's blood on it. "I want you to ship it to Alerar, their forensics team is more advance than ours in Corone is. Maybe we'll finally have the Trap Master once we get the results..."

Eric nodded to his superior, watching as Sasori made his way into the third room again. Investigators were all over the place, but nobody seemed to notice the dangling 'body' in the middle of the room. Sasori had been a bit curious about this 'pregnant woman'. It was no surprise that Trap Master reviewed his victim over quite well, taunting him mentally and taxing his body physically. But something didn't sit right with the dummy.

Grabbing the knife that was holding the note onto the 'stomach, Sasori quickly pulled it out. This was a dumb move, as Sasori's white face was covered with a white powder. Eric stood up in shock as he yelled for his sergeant to get back. It was too late though, and Sasori was already inhaling the powder. Eric dropped to his knees as he thought that Trap Master had claimed a second victim today.

"It's healing powder, Oak...." Sasori said in disbelief, "He knew Arcus wasn't going to be in the best of conditions by the time he reached this room. So he stuffed the pillow with healing powder to give him a bit of a boost. I figure that he thought Arcus would be enraged to the point that he would tear this dummy up, not realizing that his foe was helping him. But why? Why would he show such compassion to this man, when he doesn't show the same compassion to anyone else?"

"Could it be that he knows what it's like to lose a child, sir?" Eric comment had Oak in utter shock. Such a revelation would greatly narrow down the Trap Master's possible suspects. Sasori turned around to Eric, a smile forming across his face. "The Trap Master's a father!" he exclaimed excitedly, as if he had just solved the riddle of the Scara Brae Sphinx.

"The Trap Master's a father..." Eric repeated with the same stupid grin on his face. Things were about to get interesting for John Shelby, Eric Oak, and Sasori Abner in their game of cat-and-mouse....

[Duffy]

Full Commentary Judgement – Case Subject: William Arcus

Good greetings gentleman and beasts of the night. I will be proffering my wares in your general direction this afternoon, overseeing this interesting little battle between the Trap Master and the Revenant. Trap Master’s score and critique first, with Revenant’s to follow.

The Trap Master

Story: 15/30

• Continuity – (6) Everything flowed, and you have tallied previous events from other encounters with the Trap Master referred to. The narrative of a thread is not only important as a separate story, but also as part of the collective whole of a character. You achieved the basic level of internal continuality as well as some external, to improve, try and take more reigns with your traps. It is good to allow the opponent to discover in their own writing, but a puppeteer does more than pull the strings.

• Setting – (5) You describe the components of the setting excellently, but leave out much of the concrete descriptions a basic score would require. By offering these snippets to your opponent they gain the advantage in being able to really get to grips with sensory descriptions and advanced technique.

• Pacing – (4) Each post feels somewhat forced. You deal well with continuity enough to have achieved a six there, but the flow of your post follows a swift connect, advance, return serve and you do not allow enough time to develop your dialogue or John’s reaction to William’s obvious torment. Post 6 is the main offender, as it feels as if something is missing. Your conclusion is also rushed, with too much focus on the intelligent but slightly misplaced ‘detective’ story you have going on in each encounter with the Trap Master.

Character: 17/30

• Dialogue – (5) Stable dialogue present throughout. It follows his character, by all means, but it is often expected and clichéd. We understand that John is perhaps unhinged (to put it lightly) and we know his drive through the explanations you give, but there’s no connection to the character.

• Action – (5) Action is often a difficult component of the Rubric to judge, because it is often misplaced or misunderstood. To achieve a high action score one must give the impression of movement and commotion, even if nothing is actually ‘happening’ that is worthy of note. Since John is often the observer, you will have to really pull all the stops to get a high mark in this category. In posts 3 and 4 you set the right level of dynamic, but lost any chance at obtaining a higher score by passively describing the actions of another once it had already been described. In post 4, perhaps describe his fervent note taking in more erratic and neurotic detail, the scribbling of the nib, the splashing of ink, the calm sigh of revelation as a new idea pops into his head. Action can come in surprising ways, even in an empty room with two people sat staring at one another.

• Persona – (7) A much stronger score here because everything the Trap Master is, and who he believes himself to be comes off the page and slaps you in the face. I felt repulsed by his actions and yet, like with the film you’ve based him off, I feel compelled to try and comprehend the reasons behind his actions. Well done.

Writing: 16/30

• Technique – (6) Your writing is good, Sei, at least from a technique point of view. You establish, describe and eloquently describe pain and reaction with simple and effective phrases and it’s only let down by mechanical errors, as described below.

• Mechanics – (5) You have misused elision, which perhaps come more through a writing convention than an understanding of its use. It should be used in speech, usually informal, and try and avoid it the bulk of the writing itself. Wouldn’t in post 6, and the writing on the wall in post 8. There are several grammatical mishaps, type or not, they can be removed or clarified with proofreading. No full stop at the end of post 8 and misspelling strength in post 2 for example.

• Clarity – (5) No major flaws, but I would be wary of overcomplicating the traps in the future, and make sure that your descriptions and your opponents mesh, to avoid re-reading or double-takes.

Wild Card: 6/10

I utterly enjoy your character Sei, and the encounters he is involved in. I got a feel for him and for Revenant’s torment and I enjoy piecing together my own theories regarding his history you foreshadow in the culmination of each battle. The vast majority of the negative comments and scores come simply through over enthusiastic posting, and a lack of proof-reading for the simpler mistakes. It can be tempting to be carried away when you’re on a role playing streak, but please encourage yourself to go back to a thread before submitting to iron these little things out, we’re all guilty of it, and we all know it happens. I am looking forwards to the next encounter already!

Total Score: 54/100

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Revenant

Story: 18/30

• Continuity – (6) Good solid posting and each post flows into the next. You respond well to the Trap Master’s directions and you are almost meticulous in keeping tabs on the damage done to William as he progresses through his torturous trials. I would be careful in the future of allowing yourself to be carried away by back-story, as the more you include and the more references to past events you rely on as technique, the more likely it will be that the reader will become lost and confused (which isn’t to suggest that happened here, it’s just a friendly piece of advice).

• Setting – (6) A much, much stronger display of description from you. Lavish, not too detailed and pulling all the stops to bring your pain and the nightmare of the Citadel to life. Your opening post set both the mood and the scene literally for the encounter. I’d go as far as saying you set the bar high with post 1 in particular, and maintained it there. You have a good grasp of setting and intimate enjoyment it would seem of describing internal thought and emotion in contrast to the physical setting.

• Pacing – (6) You kept the tempo between dialogue, thought and action in your posts well.

Character: 19/30

• Dialogue – (7) Strong dialogue and character emotions and reactions displayed through speech. One thing I would warn you against, despite your score, is to avoid too many modernisations, especially swear words. That is not to say they do not exist on Althanas, but it applies character templates to people – you are free to do as you wish of course but consider making up your own words or personalised phrases. You need only quote box a definition once at the start of a thread. Frell, frack, Luddick! You name it.

• Action – (6) You carried the thread here too, simply because you had the physical aspects to work with. I felt every bit and understood every bit of movement, which chimed very well with the dialogue and the persona, see below.

• Persona – (6) Again, like the Trap Master, I understood and felt every bit of William leaping off the page. You have a solid foundation in this thread to achieve great things in terms of character. Stick to your guns, and develop the tormented soul without it becoming a cliché and you’ll be seeing 7’s and 8’s here soon enough.

Writing: 17/30

• Technique – (7) Superb technique, internal thought, description, use of language, violence and emotion to portray and mesh together your scores. You have developed very quickly into a budding writer, and I hope you continue, like Sei, to contribute to the site and explore your characters.

• Mechanics – (5) You too misuses elision in several places, more than likely through convention than understanding. Formatting errors occur around dialogue, but nothing major to warrant deduction. Good grasp of internal thought and paragraphs and the like.

• Clarity – (5) You lost me once or twice purely because of the intensity of the dialogue and history and the descriptions of the responses. Be careful not to allow your technique to bog down the writing so that it becomes hard to understand.

Wild Card: 6/10

An enjoyable read from the both of you. Having read several threads or been involved in some myself with Revenant, I can safely say that he is a believable and ‘real’ character. His duality is intriguing and his ever growing narcissism and determination to distance himself from his ‘past’ is endearing. Good job!

Total Score: 60/100


Experience & Gold:

Revenant wins, receiving 1050 experience and 150 gold.

The Trap Master loses, receiving 300 experience and 25 gold.

[Silence Sei]

GP-Exp added.