This site makes extensive use of JavaScript.
Please enable JavaScript in your browser.

The Lore and Roleplaying Weekly Writing Challenge

Post by Neonhyper

"Never put off writing until you are better at it."
---Gary Henderson

"All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath."
---F. Scott Fitzgerald

"You fail only if you stop writing."
---Ray Bradbury

"We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master."
---Ernest Hemingway

Right so I'm gonna be honest, I had an entire cheesy, inspirational buildup for this thread, but I realized that it sounded awful. Kind of like those assemblies they made you sit through in school to discourage bullying or doing drugs, but actually just put you to sleep instead of listening (except you were actually grateful for because usually they'd skip part of the actual learning aspect of school.) I left the quotes though, because I spent entirely too much time looking them up and they're still somewhat inspirational and relevant. I guess.

I'll stop going off on this veering rabbit trail of a tangent and get back on to the topic that was originally written to bore fifth graders: improvement. Specifically, improving our writing as roleplayers. We, as an awesome community, should be in top shape so that when someone looks up 'amazing' in the dictionary, our RPs will be listed there. Unfortunately, we (myself included) tend to suffer from any or all of the following three problems.

1.) We become too comfortable with things we're already good at (or enjoy) writing.
2.) We're scared to try writing new things because we fear we'll fail at them (or already have.)
3.) We want to try improving or try something new but don't know how to go about it.

Thing is, I've learned (mainly by having it hammered into my skull by various people) that one doesn't get to be better at stuff by sitting on their butt and not trying it. Look at all those fancy quotes I gathered for my failed-inspirationalness--they've all got a common theme: writing isn't a walk in the park and you don't wake up one morning a master author. Or roleplayer. You've got to keep writing. And writing. And writing.

But you might be me, and if you're me (which you shouldn't be because I'm me, but let's say you possibly could be me) then you don't really have the motivation to do all that repetitive practicing stuff in between your self-depreciation and forever alone pity parties. Which is why we have a community, and why we should be supporting each other and encouraging each other to improve. So pack away your cake of shame (its a lie) and pull out a pencil, a keyboard, or a raven quill dipped in your own blood (if you're still feeling angsty) because we're going on a one way road to awesomeness.

This is the Lore and Roleplaying Weekly Writing Challenge, hosted by yours truly, which will spit out a weekly prompt centered around improving various skills pivotal to developing your arsenal of roleplaying tools.

While these challenges are by no means exclusive from writing in general, they'll be geared specifically to help with RPing. We'll poke at all sorts of themes--everything from character designing and plot building to writing fight scenes and conveying emotions. Not every challenge will help every person. That's okay! Different people have different things they're good at. One person is good at writing dialogue, but struggles with plots, while someone else can write fight scenes to put the Ultimate Showdown to shame, but are flopping about like a fish out of water when it comes to more personal, dramatic moments. There's nothing wrong with writing in for the challenges for things you're good at, though. Practice still makes perfect, and your submission can be one that others can look to for guidance or help.

The important thing is--that you try, no matter what!

*inspirational jingle*

But you're probably sick of me explaining the purpose behind this thread instead of getting to what you're here for--which is the weekly challenge I keep dangling in front of your face like a carrot. Well hold your segways, because first I've got to explain how this is going to go down.

The general format for challenges will go like this:

Weekly Writing Challenge #1337

Write a short piece with all your super awesome characters doing super awesome stuff!

It will build your skills at being 1337. No lies.

Themes: Awesomeness, 1337ness

The challenge/week number will be at the top, followed by a description that goes through the prompt (despite my example being ridiculously simple, they'll usually be a lot more in depth) and gives a better idea of the skills its meant to help. At the bottom, there will be a list of keywords so if you want to look through the thread again, you can quickly skim the tags to reread entries that are relevant to your needs.

Now, you're probably like, 'now what do we have to do?', which is a good question:

1.) Begin your response by listing the weekly challenge you're following up on.

2.) Put your best effort into your challenge! There's no point in trying to improve if you're not going to do your best, now is there?

3.) This part's optional, but if you want, put a little note at the end of your submission if you'd like to get critiques on it. Like I said before, as a community we should be willing to help each other, and if you'd like someone to help figure out what you could work on or do differently, we want you to have that option.

That's all there is to it, really. Well, except following the prompt but I think that speaks for itself. I also encourage people to discuss entries and ask questions. If you're curious about somebody's thought process, go ahead and ask them! I'm 50% certain they won't bite.

Oh, and: Each weekly challenge will 'expire' on Saturday* at midnight. The following morning I'll replace the challenge on this post with the new one! That doesn't mean you can't write on previous challenges if you feel like revisiting them, just make sure to follow the first rule so things don't get confusing.
* Exceptions including the very first challenge (which was posted on a Saturday night), weeks where I'm nowhere to be found Sunday morning, or my untimely death.

Now on with the show! (Finally!)

Current Challenge
Weekly Writing Challenge #10

Write a piece of any length with two of your characters dueling. The catch? You're allowed a maximum of four lines of dialogue to use during it.

This prompt is meant to focus on writing continous action sequences that can be engaging without relying on combat dialogue or quips to keep momentum going.

Tips: Convey character personalities through their fighting styles and actions!

Themes: No-Dialogue, Action Scenes

Post by Neonhyper

Posterity post, so that when the main post is edited the first challenge will still be available!

Weekly Writing Challenge #1

Write a piece of any length with a conversation between one of your characters and a shady individual in a back alley. The suspicious person must not be one of your established characters. Keep description to a necessary minimum.

This prompt is meant to help develop dialogue writing by putting emphasis on sharing the story primarily through characters' speech. The secondary objective is to help with giving characterization to NPCs with minute-importance, this shady individual may never appear again, ever, but that doesn't mean s/he doesn't have a personality or goals.

Tips: Convey moods and emotions by using colorful speaking verbs in place of 'said.'

Extra Credit: After you finish the prompt the first time, do it again with same NPC but replacing your chosen character with another one. How does the second character's dialogue differ from the first in the given scenario?

Themes: Dialogue, Characterization

I chose a dialogue prompt for the first challenge because the issue of writing dialogue was what originally spawned the idea for this thread in the first place. I, personally, hate writing dialogue because I feel it always sounds cheesy and fake, and I know a lot of people have the same issue. So this one's to all of you!

Post by Skreeran

Challenge#1 - Entry #1

Gurka glanced around at the fading light of the setting sun over Orgrimmar as it failed against the dark walls of a thin canyon. As if on cue, a black shape suddenly dropped to the ground before her. Clenching her fists, her the faint glow of her holy fistblades briefly illuminated the weathered face of a middle-aged human man standing at the opposite end of the crevasse.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her blue eyes burning with intensity.

“That hardly matters, does it?” the man answered, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. “Would you really know any more about your situation if I told you my name?”

Gurka grunted and took a step forward. “Why did you call me here?” she asked instead.

“Now there is a question I can answer,” the human replied, the dim orange of the sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes. “My sources say that you were a great slayer of warlocks, in your time…”

Gurka huffed, narrowing her eyes at the shadowy figure. “And what business is that of yours?” she asked.

“I have a proposition for you,” the darkly dressed figure retorted. “My organization has been surveying a certain… mmm… infestation growing in the dark basements and damp sewers of a rather important city…” he paused, watching for a reaction in the orc. “You’re guessing Stormwind, aren’t you? Yes, I can tell. And you would be correct.”

“Why do you need me?” Gurka scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Surely it would be easier to find a warlock specialist among the Alliance.”

“And once more, you are correct,” the human chuckled, smiling darkly. “As sharp as ever, and yet still arrogant enough to assume we hadn’t already thought of that. Yes, we brought in a specialist. A Night Elf, of the Demon Hunter sort. He was set to rooting out the leadership of our verminous coven… and then he was slain, and his soul sacrificed to demons. We found his body in a gutter a week later.”

“And you think I’ll fare better?” Gurka asked, more than a little curious now. “Why?”

“Perhaps not better,” the man corrected, “merely, from a greater starting point. Our folly before was trusting a lone demon hunter to root them out without any oversight on our part. We underestimated our desperate prey, so to speak,” he continued. “This time, we do not intend to make the same mistake. This time, assuming you choose to cooperate with us, we plan to use your experience and spiritual skills to locate and isolate their leaders, and then catch them in a trap of our own design. Low risk, high reward.”

“And what is my ‘high reward?’” Gurka probed cautiously.

“I believe that we are in possession of some information that you will find very precious,” the man answered, nodding knowingly.

Gurka took a moment to consider the man’s proposition, searching for the truth in his eyes. “You can count me in,” she said at last.

I'm open to any critique ya'll have.

Edit: After reading that again, I guess it does come off as kinda cheesy and fragmented... :P

Post by Stabhorn

Challenge#1 - Entry#1
_____________________________________________
Rain fell over Orgrimmar. A rare occurrence in the desert-like climate, but the precipitation bothered Vrak no more than the flies did. The orc blew water from his eyes, pulling the cloak wrapped around him tighter. Very few civilians moved through the streets of the city, and miserable looking grunts sagged at their posts.

Vrak sloshed through the streets, neither moving quickly or slowly. He passed the narrow alley between the bank and the auction house. Something flickered in the corner of his eye. Vrak stopped, looking down the dark street. Lightning snaked across the sky, briefly illuminating the alleyway. It was empty.

Thunder boomed, echoing through the canyons. Vrak continued his journey. Something moved in the alley. Angrily, Vrak turned towards it once more, stopping at the entrance, “Who goes there?”

A shadow quivered behind a cactus. Vrak took a step inwards, growling as his daggers appeared in his beefy hands, “Show yourself!”

“I am here, orc…” a whisper resonated towards Vrak. It hissed like a snake; cold and high, “I wish to ssspeak with you…”

Vrak could not find the speaker, “What are you doing in here? This area is restricted by the Warchief!”

Something moved on Vrak’s right. The orc pivoted, but nothing was there. Soft laughter could be heard faintly, “I think we both know that you do not serve Garrosh, Vrak. You and I are alike; men of action…men of justice!”

“Who are you?” Vrak demanded, taking another step.

“I am just a simple thinker,” rasped the voice, “I am one who wants peace…eventually.”

Vrak’s jaw tightened, he crossed his arms, “And why do you want to speak with me?”

“I have heard of your unique…talentsss,” the voice hissed, “I could make use of them. You would be paid, obviously.”

The orc nodded, “I can assassinate someone…but that will cost you.”

“Oh, you misunderstand, Vrak. Assassination is not what I desire from you.”

“What do you want then?”

A shadowy figure suddenly rose into being, yellow eyes glimmered, locking with Vrak’s blue, “Extinction…”

Go ahead and critique it if you like. Don't spare me; tell me the bitter truth!

Post by Atik

Challenge #1, Entry #1

A bang resounded from the thin sheet of metal; echoing through the tight space between buildings. The time of day was irrelevant, as the alley was shrouded in almost complete darkness; the sound breaking its complete silence.

Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the dumpster. He leaned his head forward, not wanting to expose his hair to whatever filth may cover the object. Another bang signaled the arrival of another, someone on the other end of the dumpster. But it was more controlled, a knock rather than the crazed bounce Lucien had caused.

"It's been a while since you've come around here... rogue." A raspy voice floated around the dumpster. Like someone who could hardly speak, a gender and face were all but impossible to place. Still, it was a voice with presence; a voice that was listened to when it spoke.

"Haven't been in town." Lucien shrugged.

"I've noticed." The voice rattled. "But my services don't come any cheaper. So talk before I start charging by the hour."

"I'm sure you've noticed the Murloc attacks." Lucien began, looking to the side so he could see the front of the dumpster, allowing his voice to carry around it easier. "They've been stealing things. Gold, jewelry, that's not normal... I want whatever you know."

"Well..." The informant rasped. "I might know a thing or two. Maybe I've seen that the Murlocs come and go from the sewers, and maybe I know that Stormwind's canals run off into an underground lake."

"I don't suppose you maybe know what down there?" Lucien asked, eyes narrowing.

"Murlocs?" The voice suggested innocently. It didn't take much imagination to see the grin that probably accompanied it.

"Fine. Don't tell me." Lucien shrugged, setting a pouch of coins atop the dumpster behind him as he stood. "I'll just make due on my own."

As the rogue walked away, the alley fell into silence again. For a long while, the gold say atop the dumpster.

Then a series of bangs broke the silence again, the top of the metal canister opening as a hand reached out' fumbling for a minute before gripping the pouch and pulling it inside.

Someone so sarcastic they can piss Lucien off, oh my!

Critiques welcomes, because I fail at this. <.>

Post by Shadowheart10

Challenge #1 - Entry #1
______________________________________________________________________

There was concern behind her eyelids before she even awoke, and by the time she did, it had gone through a gruesome evolution into a trice of terror. The tan young priestess shoots straight up in her bed, and reflex jerks her head to the right. To the window.

The silence is frighteningly loud.

After confirming that Kee had not stirred the handsome pyromancer slumbering beside her with any unconscious tossing or yelps and waiting a few moments for her heartbeat to slow, she climbs carefully out of bed, throws a thick robe over her thinner nightwear and slides her dainty feet into slippers, lazily stepping on the heels instead of wearing them properly. Kee is hardly concerned with basic clothing etiquette; she is much more focused on finding the source of... that voice.

Timid hazel eyes peeks out onto the empty streets of Old Town and she gulps as the quiet finds a way to increase its volume. She's half-aware of herself as she steps outside and closes the door behind her. Something without a voice is calling to her, and she must answer.

She doesn't stop to wonder until she is steps away from an indistinct alley-path, and by then, it's too late.

"Kyarilana."

Her full first name, and it's like a pluck at her throat. Kee's only been addressed by that name when she's in trouble.

"W-Who's there?" The young woman's voice gropes for contact, finds it, and wishes it hadn't.

"You are needed. You must return," strongly whispers a deep male voice.

Kee's eyes widen with horror as it all makes sense. She reaches out a hand, forcing holy power to illuminate the dirty path, and finds him standing as still as death, arms folded, hood over his eyes.

"I have given up that life... You know that," Kee asserts as firmly as she can when she's trembling.

"I would not seek you out if it was not dire," the dark sorcerer tells her flatly, dipping his head to further slide the shadows down his face.

"A-And what if I refuse?"

"He dies."

"You wouldn't..." Kee's voice becomes grave and warning. The wrong button has been pushed.

An icy chuckle fills Kee's mind, and that building anger melts immediately. "Of course I wouldn't," the sorcerer huffs dismissively. "But do you believe he will be safer at your side for however long it takes for the Blank Banner to overpower and consume the brave, then seek and destroy the cowards? He will die, and they will be sure to make you watch."

Kee stares silently at the sorcerer, taking in his ominous oath. Longingly, she turns her head to stare back at her home, madly wishing she could live normally.

When he speaks again, which is moments after he leaves her sight, his voice is right in her ear, and his presence is close enough to make her cringe. "What say you, Kyarilana?" he murmurs deeply. "Are you brave, or are you a coward?"

Kee freezes up, her thoughts and emotions inundating her mind. After a long few moments, she sighs and looks back to the man, staring into diluted pits with rings of green as irides, barely visible in the twilight.

Her answer is calm and graven. "Fine... I'll go."

Feel free to critique. :)

Post by lightnstuff

Challenge #1, Entry #1

"You got the bag?"

"Yes I got the bloody bag you think I'd be here if I didn't?" Darrah snapped. The dwarf, garbed in the clothes of an Ironforge Dwarf, shook her head with disappointment at her contact, "What kind of amateur do you take me for?"

"I don't need to take any crap from you. Give it here," The figure ordered, his hand peeling from the dark Ironforge alley.

Darrah held the bag out, then pulled it back, "I don't think so."

"What?"

The dwarf glared hotly into the dark, quite aware of who she was talking to, "What kind of amateur do you take me for? I know who you work for."

The figure laughed boldly, mockingly, "I could care less."

"He's dead," came the blunt response.

The laughter stopped immediately.

Darrah smiled slowly, and wickedly, "And I told him before he died I'd kill everyone he ever knew. I'd make him pay a hundred times over for what he did." The Wildhammer flung the bag forward onto the ground, spilling nothing but snow onto the ground. "Start running," she ordered cheerfully, "I want to savor this."

Her silhouette took a sinister gleam in the orange braziers of the great city. It retreated as the individual swiftly fed, panicked footfalls racing into the dark.

Challenge #1, Entry #2

"You got the- you're a cat."

Kisvixishiid licked herself, duly unimpressed by the individual's uncertainty, "I am a familiar."

"You're a CAT."

"Don't hurt yourself thinking about it," the purple not-cat chided, sliding the bag down the alley with her tail, "The deal is done."

"I don't get paid enough for this," was the hoarse reply.

"You don't get paid to think either," Kisvixishiid bit back, casually licking her paws, "Finish your job." A pallet of fish rolled forward and the magical creature shivered with delight at the sight of it. She giggled with excitement, "All mine. Mine mine mine!" Clamping her tiny teeth onto the handle, she started tugging away with her payment.

The figure simply watched, dumbstruck at the exchange before slowly retreating with his end of the bargain.

Post by Neonhyper

Okay I'm gonna start with critiques (keep in mind I'm terrible at dialogue as well so this is mostly just observation and opinion so take everything I say with a grain of salt) before I do my own entry.

@Skreeran

So I really like that the shady guy doesn't dance around what he's talking about, but still manages to keep the specifics in a grey, vague area. And reading over it, there's nothing inherently wrong with the dialogue, everything's clear, concise, and makes sense, but I kind of feel like both parties sound extremely similar in their sentence structure and manner of speaking, if that makes any sense. That's pretty minor though, because it's still very strong dialogue.

@Stabhorn

The snake-y accent on the shady guy's voice is a nice touch, and the pauses make a good use of ellipses without being super duper overbearing, keeps him distinct from Vrak. The only thing that really strikes me as being off is that there's a lot of dodging around the point between the two characters, so that while we get a resolution from their conversation, I feel like I never knew what the story was.

@Atik

My favorite part of this is probably that the shady guy is in the dumpster the whole time. I also liked the semi-sarcastic banter but I'm a sucker for it. My main issues, after reading it over a couple of times, is that most of the dialogue is filler, and there's pretty much no resolution to it. We get the problem, we know what Lucien wants, but the informant doesn't actually seem to come up with anything to help him out, which just left me wondering why Lucien paid the guy at all.

@Shadowheart

First thing's first, it's nice to see a new face participating! This piece was really nice to read because I don't have any prior knowledge of the characters to help me out. The dialogue is strong here, and I particularly liked Kee calling the shady guy on his bluff. Unfortunately, I felt like there's some context to this I'm missing, which didn't help give me the full picture, especially with the characters kind of dancing around what they're talking about.

And, now time for me to fail miserably!

Challenge #1 - Entry #1

The footsteps stopped when the petite woman came upon the alleyway. The slender fingers of a tan hand tapped at the shaft of a silver lacquered staff.

"I was not followed. You may reveal yourself," Hazel stated to the shadowed side street. Her face, smooth and ageless, was illuminated by the sole sliver of moonlight to pierce the misshapen rooftops.

He stepped forward, a lanky shadow barely visible amidst the darkness, "Got whatcha wanted," came the reply, alongside the click of a tongue and the shuffle of parchment.

"Then do we have a deal?" she murmured.

"Yeah, but I mean-I gotta know," he started, stopped, and shifted in his cloak of shadows, "why dya need arch-ae-ology records? They ain't worth squat, miss, an' not what I usually snatch."

"I am a historian. My duty is to observe what has occurred, what occurs, and what will occur," Hazel explained. She held out a hand to the dark.

A folder slipped into her palm, "...ya have my coin?"

The woman tucked the papers under her arm and nimbly untied a pouch from her waist cord. The soft clink of a handful of gold bound in burlap fell into an adolescent's outstretched palm.

"That's it, then?" he asked, clutching the payment close to his chest.

"Yes," Hazel admitted, "for now. I may have need of you in the future, if you are willing."

The boy held a knife, and in an another time another woman would end up with it in her back. Hazel did not, " 'kay," he replied.

She turned and left.

Challenge #1 - Entry #2

The footsteps stopped when the woman came upon the alleyway, fists planted soundly on her hips.

"Don't worry, nobody's showin' up! You can come out!" Vrell exclaimed to the shadowed side street. A single shaft of moonlight, pouring from the misshapen rooftops, illuminated her ear-to-ear grin.

He stepped forward, a lanky shadow barely visible amidst the darkness, "Got whatcha wanted," came the reply, alongside the click of a tongue and the shuffle of parchment.

"Then everything's all set, right?" she questioned.

"Yeah, but I mean-I gotta know," he started, stopped, and shifted in his cloak of shadows, "why dya need arch-ae-ology records? They ain't worth squat, miss, an' not what I usually snatch."

"Eh, they aren't for me. Good friend of mine's a historian! All up in the business of the mysteries of time and stuff," Vrell wiggled her fingers before the silvery light, before throwing out an arm towards the youth.

A folder slipped into her palm, "...ya have my coin?"

The woman held tight to the papers, while she dug through her many pockets with a tongue poking out between lips. Eventually she found a small burlap sack of coins and dropped it into the adolescent's outstretched palm.

"That's it, then?" he asked, clutching the payment close to his chest.

"Yeah," Vrell admitted, but offered her hand once more to the darkness, " 'course, we might need you again, if you're up for other work!"

There was a long stretch of silence, presumably where the boy watched the woman's hand, before he eventually took it with a brief shake, " 'kay," he replied.

She smiled, nodded, and left the alley.

Chose to use Hazel and Vrell because they were the first characters who came to mind for doing this, but they work well because of how different they are, so it was easy to play with the same general dialogue path for them. I don't really like how it turned out, overall, mainly because I feel as if I'm crossing into some of the issues I already pointed out (dancing dialogue especially.)

I'll take a critique from anybody willing, though!

Post by morginar

Challenge #1, Entry #1"Have you done the deed?" A darkly clothed man in hat asked a dark ranger, up in a damp tower in the crumbling Capital City of Lordaeron.

"I have." Falionna replied coldly, leaning nonchalantly back to the railings.

"Do you have the journal?" The man glared onto the ranger.

"I have." Falionna answered, tacking forth a book into her hands.

"And I take you did not read it as we agreed on?"

"Of course" She smirked.

The ebony dressed man hurled a small bag of coins to the dark ranger whom catches it in her free left hand and placed the coin sack into her pouch.

"Your payment, now give me the log." He reached out a hand to receive the book and Falionna gave it to him.

"I'm surprised, even in death you pitiful nobles kill your family to inherit titles." She looked down onto the man, as if she found him nothing more than a court jester.

"He was supposed to be dead. But that Sylvanas witch returned him from the grave with those Val'kyrs, and you... Read it." Rage and then he was surprised.

"I read it the moment I got hands on it." A wicked smile grew onto her face.

"YOU ELVEN BIT-" He pulled out a dagger and charged onto the dark ranger. But Falionna had seen it coming. And the man fell before finishing his last word.

Offensive, encouraging or constructive critics are welcome.

And that sounded great Neon. Though the boy seemed a bit golum with the payment... And it seemed as if the boy stole the papers from Hazel in entry 2.

Edit: spelling.

Post by oneforthemoney

Skree: Pretty good. You conveyed both characters very well in the limited space and exchange. Near the end I did feel though that perhaps a bit more could have been shared, perhaps not necessarily about the situation, but more along the line of the reward. A bit more of a hint as to the information, as it seemed Gurka may have been a touch hasty in agreeing.

Stab: Good job on the conversation between the two. You can plainly see the tension that is evident, though I did somehow feel like it might be lacking some of the weight it should have, either from the naga's statements or Vrak's immediate reactions to them.

Atik: The familiarity between those two was well done. Not really friendship so much as merely familiarity for one another, and clearly neither particularly like the other either.

Shadow: Very well done. You gain the sense of mystery and tension at once, and it only gets bigger as it goes on. We get a good feeling of not only the character's past, while his remains a mystery, and thus the conflict between them and the world around them is that much more acute, and at the same time more mysterious.

Light: Amusing and impressive. The two contrasted wonderfully in the amusing and the deadly, turning the prompt on its head and going in different directions for both instances. Very well done.

Hyper: I liked how you kept the shadowy figures speech the same and only changed that of the characters. Though it didn't do much to differentiate their characters too much, it did serve to accentuate their speech patterns and behaviours. I also rather liked the little touch at the end with the change in the ending's descriptions. However, teh other descriptions throughout were a little lacking or too short to influence a proper mood.

Morginar: Good use of description, but the spelling mistakes were pretty distracting I have to say.

Challenge #1, Entry #1

A graven corridor carved between two buildings. The wind blew low, whistling through the alley, sending the hem of a white lab coat aflutter. Leo pulled the collar closer and stepped inside. Moonlight flashed off his glasses, his ears twitching at every noise, the normally rounded tips sharpened like an elf’s cut short.

He stopped in the center of the alley. He threw his arms wide. "Well! I'm here. Where are you?”

Chuckling reverberated as a figure separated from the shadows. Spilling across the ground like a splash of ink across the stones, it grew tall before the half elf. “Eh heh heh heh. So little man, you have found me. But I wonder-“

“Thomas!”

The shape stopped moving.

“L…Leo?”

“Tom!” Leo cried, taking a step forward with an expression of long familiarity. “Long time no see! Last time if I remember right you were getting electrocuted by those naga!”

A hood was thrown back revealing a bulbous orb of darkness. Two white points swirled from the blot to gaze in amazement at the boy before it. “It is you!” the creature cried, taking a step forward as well. “What…what are you doing out here? Last I heard you were still on the island.”

“Meeting you. I didn’t know you were the ‘Scribe’.”

“Heh. Yeah. Yeah…Kinda picked it up. Sounds pretty good though right?”

“Oh definitely. Dellos Delladorn. Got this whole thematic thing going on. I like. How long you been at this?”

“Bout six years now.”

“Buisness good.”

“Hey.” Arms spread wide revealing the darkness of his robes before the white of Leo’s coat.

“What do you think?”

“I see. I see. Ah! And I see you have a Alteracian repeater there. What’s it for?”

“This?” From the depths of darkness he drew forth a stock, the end fitted with a dozen cylinders. “Oh, you know. Shooting you.”

“Not like you need it though eh? Heh. Gotcha. Gotcha. Figured you’d take the money off me and just leave me in the alley?”

“Leo, come on. You know me better.”

“Right. You’d try and see if there was a bounty first.”

“You got it.”

“Nice. Nice. Anything?”

“Wouldn’t have tried if I’d known there was one.”

“You.” Leo laughed, punching the other man affectionately in the shoulder, his hand touching naught. “You…Hah. So! About this map thing. I’m in a bit of a bind here. I plan on going into this troll temple. I hear they’ve been doing this cannibal dead sacrifice thing and want to take a look. Can you help me out?”

“Oh hey no problem. I got it right here. Need anything else? I can get pretty much anything you need. Books, maps, whatever you need? I can even make a few if you need.” From the sleeve slithered darkness, coiling to form the nub of a pen. “I have been practicing my calligraphy you know?”

“Sorry Tom,” Leo laughed, taking the rolled paper. “Not this time. But hey! I’ll certainly keep that oin mind. Never know when I’ll need one. Oh, but ah,” he snapped his fingers, “before I forget, try to keep a bit on the up and up. Because you know, get up to the old habits and,” Leo aimed his closed fists with thumbs cocked and index fingers extended at the other and winked. “I’ll have to kill ya.”

“Oh right, I hear you’ve been on this whole good guy bent. How’s it going?”

Leo inclined his head to the side. “…It’s going, you know. It’s…It’s going. You know how it is.”

“Don't I know it. So! See you maybe later then?”

“We’ll see. Take it easy!”

“Will do!”

Laughing, both men turned and walked away. White and black, north and south, in a moment gone without a sign of their passing.

Post by Aimsyr

Feedback:

@Skree: Although both characters were your typical everyday Common speakers in terms of dialogue, without drastic abnormalities in terms of manner of speaking, Gurka definitely came across as more direct and orc-like, even though the mysterious human did not exactly mince his words either, which was a subtle but nice difference between the two. Gurka did however seem quick to accept his proposition, but I put that down to the reader presumably being able to guess at what the “information” was had they the wider context of the conversation. Otherwise, use of speaking verbs was varied and effective, though there are some other alternatives to “asked” you could employ from time to time.

@Stab: I liked the “sss” effect with the stranger’s dialogue, though there were places where it felt like it was missing, like it should have been there too (some of the stranger’s lines involved an “s” or s sound (like in “ce”) without the hiss being emphasized, which felt a bit inconsistent). The dialogue itself was good otherwise, but I felt you could have used some expressive speaking verbs at certain points (particularly toward the beginning and end of the conversation) to provide more of an insight into the characters.

@Atik: Can’t fault your dialogue itself, there certainly was a sense of familiarity between the two characters which was a nice detail, but some more description in regard to Lucien’s manner - particularly toward the beginning of the conversation - would’ve been nice. In regard to speaking verbs you used a wide variety, without any perceivable repetition, which helped to keep the conversation fresh and immersive, yet I couldn’t help but feel it may have benefitted from greater use of adverbs in places in order to convey the specifics of each characters’ emotions. A minor, non-dialogue related thing: you need to make sure that whenever you connect two main clauses using semicolons they both can stand as complete sentences on their own.

@Shadow: It was nice to some new characters and the atmosphere of the piece was built effectively, however I did find the use of present tense a little jarring ( being used to past tense when it comes to narrative). That aside, the dialogue was very strong, both in terms of what was actually said and the manner in which the characters say it, providing an interesting insight into the two characters’ personalities whilst leaving the actual specifics of their past lives shrouded in mystery.

@Hyper: I really like how you differentiated the two characters in terms of lexicon, as while they were both regular Common speakers, they both sounded distinct in their word choice and manner of speaking. It might’ve been an idea to vary the stranger’s dialogue slightly though in order to highlight the differences between the two, or perhaps merely the way in which he said specific lines (to emphasize how he felt about each of the two individually some more, even if this was only his first time meeting them and his opinion was based purely on first impressions), but what was actually said was very good. Adverbs might have been a good idea in regard to establishing how the characters felt about what was said and each other though.

@Morginar: Your use of dialogue to tell the story was very good and your use of description, although brief (as it probably should be for such a challenge), served to convey the feelings of the characters very well. Not much else to add here other than working on your spelling and grammar, but for someone where English isn’t there first language you’re doing really well in that area. It did mean I wasn’t too sure at first who said what at the turning point however, but otherwise that section of the conversation felt very dramatic, particularly where the stranger trails off realizing she read the journal despite their agreement. Perhaps a little more variation in sentence structure and manner of speaking between the two characters would’ve been an idea, but otherwise the dialogue felt natural and strong.

@Persen: While I really did enjoy the narrative in your entry, it did feel like the story was told almost entirely via the main character’s thoughts more than anything else. Had the conversation been extended to include the specifics of the “job” in the ensuing discussion this role could have been shifted to the dialogue, however as it is now the focus is definitely on description/narrative. That said, I’m probably guilty of the same in my entries, however this is still a dialogue challenge. Nevertheless, what dialogue there was felt natural and was certainly well written, on top of conveying general aspects of the two characters’ personalities effectively and distinctly to the audience, but it could have been employed to a greater extent in telling the story itself.

Feel free to let me know if I left anyone out who did indeed want their dialogue to be critiqued.

Anyhow, here're my entries. I know I used way too much description for the amount of dialogue there was, what with this being a dialogue-focused challenge, but I couldn't help it, and I'm still not happy with them.

Challenge #1, Entry #1

A gentle rain soaked the surrounding foliage and structures both, chill yet refreshing. The priestess halted in the awning to the temple, indulging in a breath of fresh, moist air, before stepping forth, following the sodden paths past the pristine lakes of the city to the Craftsman’s Terrace.

The narrow alleyway lurked at the edge of robed woman’s vision, a tempting shortcut, flanked on either side by thick wooden walls. Unworried, she approached the gloomy passageway, taking care to sidestep a puddle that would have otherwise dirtied the mooncloth fabric of her attire. It looked to her somewhat shady, but she felt her faith in Elune and trust in trust in the Sentinels would protect her.

“The time to repent is – nigh,” rasped an ancient, yet eerily familiar in tone to even the strangest of strangers, voice, its dry vocal cords rustling like sheets of paper. “The time of your people is – over…”

Alarmed, the priestess adopted a defensive stance, gripping her staff tightly, turning in an attempt to locate the source of the unnatural voice. It was to no avail, it had seemed to have come from anywhere and everywhere, and perhaps it had. “Fandu-dath-belore?”

“Do not try to – run, Vashadya,” it warned, assured in the fear it provoked within those that stumbled upon it, “you cannot – escape.”

The priestess, whose name was indeed Vashadya, paused, whispered a prayer to the Moon Goddess to light her path. A holy light, not unlike that cast by the moon herself, surged through the passage, illuminating the darkness in a soft, reassuring glow.

The mysterious entity placed an appendage upon the night elf’s shoulder, causing her to turn. The sudden light had made it flinch, but she did not realize that, she merely saw a set of fluorescent pink robes, designed for someone of roughly human-height and filled with a being veiled entirely in the shadows cast by its hood.

The priestess blinked. Fortunately for the stranger, the human idea that pink was a ‘girly’ colour, let alone the human concept of ‘girliness’ in itself, had never been explained to her, considering the fact none of the human adventurers she had travelled with had dared wear it and most of her female friends, pink-skinned or otherwise, were warriors, deadly ones.

“Who are you?” Vashadya asked tentatively, politely trying to break the unsettling silence when the thing failed to attack.

“The harbringer of your – doom,” the voice answered almost mechanically, as if it had learned to speak via meticulous study, “the pilferer of your – hope.”

The priestess stared. Normally the people she attempted to sway from the path of evil were more, well, normal… Not that being abnormal was necessarily a bad thing she felt, but in this particular case she was not even sure if the other party quite understood what it meant to be alive, rather than merely having been granted life by another.

“Sorry, I meant, what is your name?” the night elf queried patiently, sounding uncertain.

“The harbringer of your – doom,” the voice repeated automatically, though a hint of doubt entered its tone, “the pilferer of your – hope.”

“A nice day, is it not?” Vashadya tried instead, thinking actual villains tended to be less direct in stating their intentions to a priestess.

“It – is,” the voice agreed, almost amiably, “for your – destruction.”

“Pardon?”

“You will tell – them, doom has – come. Then you will – die.”

The priestess backed away, unnerved. “Please, you need not do this.”

“You have – forced, our – hand. Tell – them. Your death will be – merciful.”

“Why?”

“You – know. We – must.”

“I cannot allow it,” the night elf stated, though a twinge of pity-fuelled sadness entered her tone.

“Then another intermediary will be – found.”

Challenge #1, Entry #2

A gentle rain soaked the surrounding foliage and structures both, chill yet refreshing. The pickpocket stormed out of the temple, ignoring the moisture hanging in the air, turning to follow the less trodden paths through the city to the Craftsman’s Terrace, map in hand.

The narrow alleyway lurked at the edge of the cloaked woman’s vision, a tempting shortcut, flanked on either side by thick wooden walls. Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes and avoided it altogether, treading determinedly through a puddle that splashed her fur cloak with droplets of dirty water. It had looked to her the perfect location for muggers or rapists.

“The time to repent is – nigh,” rasped an ancient, yet eerily familiar to even the strangest of strangers, voice, its dry vocal cords rustling like sheets of paper. “The time of your people is – over…”

The pickpocket came to a standstill, sensing the odd familiarity, and turned. It had come from the alleyway. Uneasy, she crept back toward it, weapons concealed within her cloak barring the unwieldy rifle slung over her back, lengthened axe blade running along its barrel, and eyed the darkness mistrustfully. Something had to be in there, she felt certain of it.

“Do not try to – run, Elsa,” it warned, assured in the fear it provoked within those that stumbled upon it, “you cannot – escape.”

The pickpocket, whose name was indeed Elsa, advanced into the darkness, fingers burrowing deep within her cloak for the throwing axes hidden therein. A faint light, that cast by the moon itself, brightened the passage faintly, taking away some of the darkness’ edge.

“Show yourself coward,” the pickpocket spat, fear concealed by rage.

The mysterious entity placed an appendage upon the human’s shoulder, causing her to spin around angrily. The pure moonlight made it flinch, she could feel that, but the set of fluorescent pink robes made her stay her hand at the opportunity.

“You’re a woman?” Elsa said questioningly, momentarily too confused to throw another insult, but then again it was elf territory… “Oh, you’re one of those,” she spat hatefully, disgust and contempt entering her tone, “inverts.”

“No,” the voice answered with certainty, after pausing to check its mental thesaurus of Common words and finding ‘woman’ did not align with its particular job description, “the harbringer of your – doom. The pilferer of your – hope.”

“And what the Fel is that supposed to mean?” the human demanded angrily, though a hint of her earlier unease had crept back into her voice. Something was off, and she hated situations she did not understand whatsoever.

Another pause. “The herald of your – downfall,” it announced with an undertone of derision, adjusting its choice of diction for the inferior humanoid’s benefit, “the one who will purloin your – “

“F@#$ off,” Elsa interrupted rudely.

“We are not here to deal or – communicate, off.”

“What part of ‘f@#$ off’ don’t you understand?”

“Define – intercourse.”

“This is bulls#@$. I’m leaving.”

“You will tell your – people, downfall has – come. Then you will – die,” the figure instructed the back of the departing human’s head.

“What was that?” the pickpocket growled, coming to an abrupt halt.

“Your death will be – merciful.”

Critique would be both welcome and extremely helpful. Thanks in advance.

Post by Persen

I really wanted to submit something for this, but I've been thinking about it for a week now without coming up with neither character nor "plot". Oh well, I guess there's a new one in a little while for me instead.

Edit: I got one coming! Woop! Stay tuned...

That being said, I'll only take part in the criticism unless something comes to mind for me to edit in later. Cowardly, I know. Sue me.

Also, this probably took longer than it would've taken to write an actual entry.

Skreeran: Your piece felt fast paced (came off as a bit odd) and there was lots of actual talk in the dialogue (may be the reason for the high tempo). It didn't convey me much feeling, though. I liked how the man did most of the talking and Gurka mostly asked short questions as often is the case in real life talk.

Stabhorn: A solid work. Try to use more pronouns as not to cause too much repetition ("Vrak did..."). It's also a little difficult for me to know how the snake-man talks, except for the hiss. Slow, fast, deliberately, passionately? Vrak is better in that regard, as he comes off as stern and direct. Keep working on your texts and integrate them with other writers!

Atik: The informant's first line strikes the tone for the whole thing. A powerful tool for the writer. As others have said, the fact that Lucien's counterpart is completely hidden is a great take at the nondescript shady person. Avoids the whole balance with how much description is necessary. I felt a small lack of connection with Lucien, probably due to the fact that I haven't engaged with the character in an RP so it's just a name for me in your text. That'd be the first thing I suggest to remedy.

Shadowheart10: A good piece that was very tense. Maybe a tad too little dialogue for a dialogue challenge, but the surrounding narrative was excellent. The present tense was a bit confusing for me, though. I'd love to try a past tense version.

Lightnstuff: The minimal amount of surrounding description doesn't hurt your texts at all. Maybe even the other way around: you focus completely on the words and actions of the characters. The first time around I was confused as to who said what in the first entry, but at a second glance I got it. That'd be my primary point of improvement. In the second entry there's hardly any description of tone at all, but the spoken words mostly take care of that. Masterfully done. Neither of the texts are nearly as fragmented as your multi-character posts sometimes strike me to be.

Neonhyper: Excellent tempo (rather slow). The boy's way of talking felt a little weird and synthetic, so I'd work a bit on that. I'm sure it makes a lot of sense in your head, so now make it so in mine! The two sides of the same story was an interesting concept and as others said it highlights the differences between Hazel and Vren in a way that usually wouldn't occur in a roleplaying text.

Morginar: Work on spelling and structure. The general outline is solid and the setting matches the challenge's premises very well. While the first half was rather anonymous, I was positively surprised when I came to "He was supposed to be dead. But that Sylvanas witch returned him from the grave with those Val'kyrs. And you... Read it."
It was powerful and I could almost see his face when he realized. Keep polishing your 'physical' writing (spelling etc)!

oneforthemoney: A different and refreshing take on the shady person thing. Dialogue felt natural and a little distanced. Good use of body language ("...snapped his fingers") intertwined with the talk. Worked really well despite my lack of familiarity with the characters.

And finally XD4000: As you said, much description around the dialogue. Not necessarily a bad thing, but since it was a dialogue challenge I would've liked to see more talk from all involved characters. If you read it in Death's voice from Monty Python's Meaning of Life, it becomes pretty epic. The thing we talked about the other day (diversity in the way characters speak without 'crutches') you nail very well here. The contrast between Elsa and Vashadya is stark without being artificial.

Post by Stabhorn

Thanks for the critique guys. I can't wait for the next one!

Post by Persen

Challenge #1, entry #1

"Hello there, soldier..."

Eaton had known that cutting through the dark alleys of Old Town posed certain risks. Against his better judgement he had decided that the shortcut was worth the danger, and he now thoroughly regretted his decision to ignore the potential threat of street thugs posed. The night was never friendly, and if no lowlife scum of the robbing kind were preying on innocent pedestrians then of course there had to be prostitutes instead.

He ignored her call from up ahead and kept walking briskly. As he closed her outlines became features and he immediately knew he had been mistaken. That was no harlot.

A black pointy hat sat upon the young lady's head. The wide brim concealed most of her face, and the shadows hid the rest except for two rows of white teeth that smiled confidently.

"Stay a while and listen," she said musically as he approached. "I promise you won't regret it."

The crusader wasn't so sure of that. His muscles tensed when the distance to the woman decreased. Knees became slightly more bent, open hands closed into fists. Nevertheless he slowed down, curiosity defeating reason. She leaned lazily on a stack of boxes and he halted a few paces away from them.

"What do you want of me?" Eaton inquired, resisting an urge to fold his arms across his chest. His voice was steady and respectful. She inclined her neck, and while her eyes were still hidden the pleased grin grew a little wider. "Well?" he reinforced.

"We have a job for you," she said after a moment of suspense. "One that requires your particular experiences."

The crusader wondered for a second which of all the gruesome things he had been through she meant, and how anything of that could possibly be a merit. "...with respect to clinging to your own life," she continued like she knew exactly how his thoughts went. "You're very good at staying alive, Mr Grey."

She laughed shortly as his face turned into a frown. "Don't look so sullen."
How she knew what his expression was from underneath the hat he couldn't tell, but the fact that she did didn't exactly help him in feeling comfortable with the situation. Suddenly he realized that his heart was pounding faster and harder than it ought to. Nothing had really happened so far, after all. He swallowed and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm down and regain control. Combat always had adrenaline; here he only had his nerves.

"What if I'm not interested, then," he attempted. The sly grin immediately turned grim. "Do you really think you have a choice in the matter?"

"I certainly hope so," the veteran resisted. Still, somehow he knew that what came next would say otherwise.

I'll cut it here as I'm out of time. Criticism is very welcome. Fire away!

Post by Neonhyper

So I'm working on writing up the new challenge to kick off the new week, but in the mean time, let's finish up the last of my critiques for this round...

@XD

I'm starting to question why I wrote this challenge for you considering you practically aced it. One of my few gripes is the amount of description but hey, you fully warned us about that so I can't really hold it against you, hehe. Otherwise, I loved the way you wrote out the shady person's speaking pattern, it's unique and really communicates the awkward, stilted way they're supposed to sound. Also bonus points for keeping the same general direction of the conversation in both entries, but still changing it enough to reflect each character's responses (unlike me, in my infinite laziness.)

@Persen

Lots of paragraphs here where nobody's talking! A lot of the narrative in this seems to be conveyed by Eaton's thoughts in the descriptions, instead of between the two characters. Otherwise, the dialogue that is present is really well written in context, but doesn't tell a lot on its own.

Post by Neonhyper

All right before I post the new challenge I just want to thank everybody who's participated so far. I didn't think this idea would actually work, but you guys have embraced it with gusto! So, yeah, thank you, and here's week two!

Weekly Writing Challenge #2

Write a piece of medium-to-long length where one of your characters kills the leader of a group using cunning and stealth. The entry should include the character dealing with obstacles (traps, bodyguards, locks) that come between them and their target.

This prompt is meant to help develop diversity in combat situations by expanding the options a character can take to deal with a hostile problem other than by simply beating them down.

Tips: Use tension to help give a sense of possible failure for your character.
------ If you're having trouble thinking of what to write, draw ideas from the mechanics in stealth games, such as Assassin's Creed or Thief.

Themes: Combat, Diversity

This prompt was inspired mainly by the fact that, a lot of the time, combat in RP (especially you vs. nameless, faceless mooks) ends up devolving into a beat'm up brawl where a small number of characters faces off against a lot of mooks and end up winning. That's not necessarily a bad thing every once and a while, but it does get to the point where combat no longer has any sort of risk/reward scale.

So let's try tackling NPC threats differently. Stealth/assassination type situations are always fun but sometimes hard to write effectively!

Post by Skreeran

Post by Atik

Post by Neonhyper

Quick question: Is this intended to expanded the horizons of a character who does not normally use stealth? Like, if my Troll Assassin killed someone, but that's how he does everything, would that be less useful than if I wrote my mage in a situation where she can't brute force a problem?

Pretty much what Atik is getting at. Feel free to use an assassin character if you want, or one who isn't, this challenge is less about the character so much as writing the situation effectively. (As, even amidst the board's assassins their skill tends to be an informed ability.)

Post by Atik

Challenged Entry #2

Voices filled the air. Conversations mulled together into a dull throbbing of noise. Such a sensation was nothing new to the woman. She had lived a life of nobility, and was used to not truly hearing the masses that surrounded her.

Long blonde hair fell downward past her shoulder, curled and sparkling in the dark lights of the night. He red dress similarly glimmered, being fairly modest, covering her arms and most of her neck. Glancing around, she allowed herself to be led by the crowed; ushered into the massive building.

The lights and noise from outside faded. Tables appeared, white cloths and silverware covering them, many well-dressed people seated at them. She followed a servant for a ways, suddenly stopping. "Excuse me." She said, breaking off from the group. "I need to use the powder room."

Like that, the woman made her way across the room, down a hall, and through a door. Opening it, she stepped into the bathroom, sinks lining one wall and more doors lining the other. Smiling, she opened one, looking into the stall. A small, ordinary toilet sat on the floor, a tiny window near the ceiling above it. Pulling the door shut, she locked it.

Slowly Maline reached up, pulling at her blond hair and ripping the wig free from her head, he straight black hair falling out from within. In a series of motions, she pulled her red dress off, leaving her in a much shorter and more revealing black dress. Smiling, she stepped onto the toilet, pulling the window open above her and climbing up.

In a rather swift motion, she slipped out of the building; slipping out and landing back outside, leaving her disguise behind her. Brushing her hair out of her face, the woman stepped back around the building, shoving herself back into the crowd. "Excuse me." She commented, bumping the masses out of her way and placing herself back into the line; slipping into the building anew.

Nothing had changed, with the exception of some more people now filling the space. She found herself stepping past the tables, across a large open area of the floor, filled with dancers. Maline carefully waded her way through the crowds, keeping her eyes on target.

The tall red haired man spun with another girl, his eyes clearly catching sight of the approaching woman as he stopped, watching as the woman in black reached in and stopped.

"Yes?" He asked, clearly taking in the sight before him.

"Oh, it's just I couldn't help but notice." Maline blushed. "You're such a great dancer."

"Oh?" The man replied, smiling. "I could teach you, if you'd like." He commented.

"R-really?" Maline stuttered. The other girl suddenly turned; leaving in an apparent huff as the man took the new woman's hands in his, pulling her into motion.

The two spun for a while, the room twirling around her.

"You're so handsome." The woman commented absently.

"I know." The man grinned. "It's why I surround myself with such beautiful people."

"Oh?" Maline swooned in question. It was shattered quickly, however, her eyes narrowing and locking with his. "And here I thought it was to avoid your debt to Grimmwald's Dark Houses..."

The two stopped abruptly. The man faltered, fear freezing him. "W-what?"

"Silly human. You think you're safe at your parties, surrounded by your people." Maline grinned, leaning in. "There's darkness everywhere." She commented; mouth suddenly lunging forward and cupping his throat. Fangs buried deep into the man's neck, puncturing arteries and spilling blood free.

Maline pulled back quickly, tearing flesh and muscle with her. She didn't have time to feed as dancers around her quickly stopped, screams beginning to erupt. Taking her queue to leave, the vampire bolted, heels clicking loudly off the floor as she shoved people aside.

Shouts followed the screams, guards rushing through the crowds to try to follow the murderer, who made a dash down the hallways.

Throwing the door open, Maline entered the powder room anew, slamming the barrier behind her and grabbing the doorknob. Putting her strength into it, she bent the metal downwards, preventing the door from being opened normally. Moving down, she grabbed at a locked stall, ripping it open and screaming at the top of her lungs.

Reaching in, she moved quickly, pulling her hair up and slipping the wig back over her head. Following, she pulled the red dress over her. With a series of bangs, the bathroom door flew open, several guards storming in.

"Where did she go?" One asked the clearly terrified woman. Carefully, she pointed to the window of the open stall; blowing in the breeze.

"Damn." The man breathed, looking to the others. "Okay, let's get everyone out of here. Looks like the party is over."

The blonde woman panted in fear, following the guards as they led her out of the bathroom, and away from the exit of the murderer.

C&C is totally welcomed.

The Lore and Roleplaying Weekly Writing Challenge

Post Reply