| Author |
 Topic  |
|
|
Kajehase
Great Reader
Sweden
2104 Posts |
 Posted - 12 Sep 2007 : 16:59:42
|
|
I know there's a few aspiring writers on this forum, so here's a challenge for you all: Write a story inspired by this image taken from the site of one of my favourite fantasy comics - Thorgal.
|
There is a rumour going around that I have found god. I think is unlikely because I have enough difficulty finding my keys, and there is empirical evidence that they exist.
Terry Pratchett |
|
|
Ozzalum
Learned Scribe
USA
277 Posts |
Posted - 12 Sep 2007 : 17:21:03
|
The beaver wondered where all his fur had gone and lamented the destruction of his magnificent dam. "Curse you, upside-down squid!" His tongue ran over his front teeth and then he started to sob, clutching a support beam in his surprisingly dexterous extremities.
EDIT: Didn't mean to come across as a jerk with the above posting. It was just the first thing that popped into my mind. Sorry about being so unserious. |
Edited by - Ozzalum on 12 Sep 2007 18:28:19 |
 |
|
|
Wooly Rupert
Master of Mischief
USA
36874 Posts |
Posted - 12 Sep 2007 : 18:09:25
|
Eh... I can see the possibility of a story behind this pic, but to me, it's more of a single event as part of a greater tale. You know, the guy is traveling thru the swamp as part of some greater quest, pauses to rest, and then random baddie attacks.
That's just what I see at first glance. 
|
Candlekeep Forums Moderator
Candlekeep - The Library of Forgotten Realms Lore
http://www.candlekeep.com -- Candlekeep Forum Code of Conduct
I am the Giant Space Hamster of Ill Omen!  |
|
|
|
Jorkens
Great Reader
Norway
2950 Posts |
Posted - 12 Sep 2007 : 19:01:11
|
Turn it around and it is a nice story of the swamp creature that sees a great little morsel ready for it as it awakens after centuries of sleep.
The man, knowing nothing floats around on his new and improvised twig-boat dreaming of catching the big fish not knowing that he is about to be hooked for life.
The vindictive beavers are laughing maniacally with glee as they complete their summoning of the Swamp-Tentacle their voices screaming "he shall be damd" |
|
|
|
Wooly Rupert
Master of Mischief
USA
36874 Posts |
Posted - 12 Sep 2007 : 20:59:25
|
Of course, if it was anime and that was a schoolgirl, then you'd have a totally different kind of story!  |
Candlekeep Forums Moderator
Candlekeep - The Library of Forgotten Realms Lore
http://www.candlekeep.com -- Candlekeep Forum Code of Conduct
I am the Giant Space Hamster of Ill Omen! |
|
|
|
Ozzalum
Learned Scribe
USA
277 Posts |
Posted - 12 Sep 2007 : 21:12:39
|
| Not the evil tentacles! It seems my attempt to apologize for humor was misplaced, or else I really need to apologize for getting Wooly going. |
|
|
|
Wooly Rupert
Master of Mischief
USA
36874 Posts |
Posted - 12 Sep 2007 : 22:13:14
|
quote:
Originally posted by Ozzalum
Not the evil tentacles! It seems my attempt to apologize for humor was misplaced, or else I really need to apologize for getting Wooly going.
Heh, neither. I don't do that kind of anime, myself (I simply don't understand the appeal), but I've spent enough time as an otaku to know it exists. And, because of some of my online friends, whenever someone mentions tentacles, my brain goes ahead and makes that particular connection. |
Candlekeep Forums Moderator
Candlekeep - The Library of Forgotten Realms Lore
http://www.candlekeep.com -- Candlekeep Forum Code of Conduct
I am the Giant Space Hamster of Ill Omen! |
|
|
|
Ozzalum
Learned Scribe
USA
277 Posts |
Posted - 13 Sep 2007 : 01:04:23
|
| Well, I think this has gotten about as far afield from the original topic as possible. But this does raise an issue I had never considered. Was Evard one of those types of Otaku? |
|
|
|
dwarvenranger
Senior Scribe
USA
428 Posts |
Posted - 14 Sep 2007 : 22:56:23
|
| "...and Thorag was never seen again. Okay children, this concludes the lesson on why we should not go into the swamp alone. Time to get ready for bed." |
If I waited till I knew what I was doing, I'd never get anything done.
|
|
|
|
Ugly is the new black
Seeker
Australia
81 Posts |
Posted - 17 Sep 2007 : 12:47:55
|
quote:
Originally posted by Kajehase
I know there's a few aspiring writers on this forum, so here's a challenge for you all: Write a story inspired by this image
Markul had trodded grimly through the Marsh of Tun for a night and a day in search of Thaalim Torchtower. Had slept with one eye open upon mangroves half-submerged in sickly warm darkness. Had stalked from shadow to shadow, spear in hand, and broken the backs of two Snotgrin goblins upon his knee with the savage efficiency of a soldier. Of a killer.
He laboured knee-deep through the muck and filth of Tun, cursing in coarse, mumbled chondathan until he came upon an island of tangled black branches beneath column of sunlight. As he grabbed ahold and climbed aboard, the man became suddenly aware of the half-remembered words of the Cormyrian, Gramorn of Suzail, who had begged him not to stalk the brigand through the marsh. "There is a wicked sorcery to be found there, Markul," he had spat through blackened teeth. "Forged by the hand of an elf-witch whose wanton urgings can harness the dark and wild energies asleep in the earth! It is a cursed place, my friend, and cursed are those who would walk there!"
Markul sighed a heavy sigh and ran a calloused hand through his sweaty tousled hair. Such a coward, he thought, leaning back upon a throne of thorned branches. And such a fool. The only horror lurking in this Gods-forsaken place is me. A sudden splash in the shadows behind him heralded the approach of another patrol of goblins. He pretended not to notice. It's always more fun when they think you can't hear them. A sly smile crept its way out from behind a veil of black hair. The smile of a soldier. The smile of a killer.
The smile of a dead man.
[edit] Fairly short and lacking in plot, I'll admit, but it occupied me for a bit. If you've got any more writing challenges, toss them up. I'd love to do a bit more.
love,
nathan. |
As he knelt on the ground with his brothers around and the taste of his blood on his tongue,
His brothers knelt by him and prayed him a prayer, and he smiled and he laughed and he sung,
"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done, the Dornishman's taken my life,
But what does it matter? For all men must die, and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife!" |
Edited by - Ugly is the new black on 18 Sep 2007 03:26:58 |
|
|
|
RodOdom
Senior Scribe
USA
509 Posts |
Posted - 17 Sep 2007 : 18:11:30
|
On the second night Yara called out to him in his sleep.
“Julan! I’m here. We’re all here!”
Her voice was as melodius and lovely as ever. Julan pressed his hands against his ears yet he still heard her clearly.
“Julan! You should see the new harvest.”
Harvest? What harvest, wondered Julan. Here in the Black Swamp the only bounty is of rot and death.
“I have a surprise for you. A wonderful surprise. After you left with the army I found out I was pregnant. We have a son, Julan! He has your eyes, your nose, your brow. He’s as handsome as you are.”
Julan cries out, wanting to ask his son’s name. But he stops himself and presses his face into the mucky soil.
“We named him after you. But you have to give him his true name, Julan. He’s with us, waiting for you.”
She’s not real, Julan said to himself, over and over again. There is nothing in this swamp but death. Nothing in this swamp, but that thing.
(continued)
|
Edited by - RodOdom on 17 Sep 2007 18:14:30 |
|
|
|
Rinonalyrna Fathomlin
Great Reader
USA
7106 Posts |
Posted - 18 Sep 2007 : 00:13:01
|
Mr. Mop-Top told the monster he was ugly.
The monster began to cry. |
"Instead of asking why we sleep, it might make sense to ask why we wake. Perchance we live to dream. From that perspective, the sea of troubles we navigate in the workaday world might be the price we pay for admission to another night in the world of dreams."
--Richard Greene (letter to Time) |
|
|
|
Wandering_mage
Senior Scribe
688 Posts |
Posted - 18 Sep 2007 : 00:52:32
|
| The picture makes me think of an exiled warrior that is about to be challenged after wandering for weeks in a swamp. The monster is the local authority taking control of intruders minds and making them act as his slaves and later devouring them. This warrior is different though. He is not mind controlled but instead fights only to be defeated and taken as a prisoner back to the creature's lair. In a cell with other slaves that have shrugged off the creature's mind control (and that wait to be devoured) the wanderer leads the slaves out of the cell and he finds a treasure trove the creature has been hiding. Arming himself with legendary weapons that have been lost for centuries he slays the creature upon its return. That was only the beginning though. He has a rival to settle a score with and a reputation to win back. Leading the slaves out of the swamp the hero finds out that he has rescued mostly adventurers with various skills that he could utilize to make an adventuring company. He does this and finds himself to be a good leader. His revenge is sidetracked by the arrival of a great evil in a mountain community. Clearing out a mine complex and saving the helpless from a dragon kin invasion. To be continued... |
Illum
The Wandering Mage |
|
|
|
Brynweir
Senior Scribe
USA
436 Posts |
Posted - 07 Oct 2007 : 02:45:52
|
I just saw this and thought I'd throw something together. It is unpolished and obviously unfinished, but here it is anyway.
Jeryll was tired. He was tired of living in Argliock, tired of the people there. They always treated him differently. Those who did not know him from before thought that he was just a bitter man who liked get his way. Those who had known him before the accident pitied him, tried to do things for him to make his life easier. They didnt understand that he didnt want their pity and he didnt want them doing things for him. No one seemed to understand that he was still just as capable, just as skilled as he had been before. No one understood that his blindness had not had the crippling effect that they all thought. No, he wasnt crippled, quite the opposite, in fact. His other senses had become so heightened that his blindness was almost like a gift. Almost.
He sensed things now that he would have never thought possible before the accident. He knew every villager by smell, by sound. Each had their own distinct scent, and he could tell just by the pattern and heaviness or lightness of the tread who was approaching. No one ever noticed that he knew to whom he was speaking even though they hadnt said a word. It was something he would have noticed.
His friends, his family, they all thought that he was just being stubborn, that he was ungrateful for all the help. Maybe he was. Maybe he was being ungrateful, but it seemed to him the only way to get them to stop. The more they tried to push themselves on him, the more he dug in his heels and pushed them away. It didnt take long for people to stop coming to visit at all. Soon Jeryll had what hed wanted. He finally got his independence back. He soon noticed, however, that his hard won independence was lonely.
At first he went into town every day for small things, just to be up and about and doing something around other people. The cold responses that he began to experience soon caused him to make his outings less frequent. After a period of months, he hardly left his home. Instead of going into town, he turned inward and tried to focus on himself. He spent hours every day in his back yard practicing fighting moves with his staff. Those who saw him once again felt pity. They thought that he was trying to reclaim his past, that he was refusing to accept his limitations. He was. Jeryll knew that just because he had lost his sight that did not mean that he couldnt do the things that he had always done. He was still a great warrior and he could still contribute. He just had to convince everyone else of that.
The perfect opportunity arose just a few days after Jeryll went into town for supplies. While he was in town, he placed an order with the blacksmith for a steel caps to fit the ends of his staff. Although Arlen thought that he was crazy, he would never say that to Jerylls face, so he took his money and began work on the caps. It was light work, something that an apprentice could have done in an hour or two, but the smith told him it would be a while so that Jeryll would not hang around the shop.
Although Jeryll knew that Arlen was trying to get rid of him, he made no objections. He simply asked that the blacksmith have one of the apprentices run the staff out to his house when it was finished. Two days later Jeryll heard little Neiko running down the road to his house. He smiled wistfully as he recognized the tread. The boy was trying to be serious and hurry the delivery, but Jeryll heard the little stutter step as Neiko forced himself not to skip. Wishing that his own heart was light enough to want to skip, Jeryll pushed himself up from the table and went out to meet the boy.
Ho, there, Neiko. I trust you have my delivery from Arlen.
Yes sir, I came as soon as I could. The boys step faltered as he left the road and entered Jerylls yard. Master Arlen said that I should make my delivery and come straight back. He said that the forest was not safe any more and I needed to be quick. The boy was known to ramble on about many things that were unimportant if one let him, so Jeryll raised his hand to stall the deluge before it could get started.
What do you mean that the forest isnt safe? Ive hunted these woods all my life and never encountered anything more dangerous than a hungry bear.
Well, sir, Master Arlen said that there have been tales lately of a strange beast. They say that it lives in the river and preys on people and animals that go there to drink. No one in town has seen it, of course, but plenty of traders bring talk of how they had horses or dogs pulled under and eaten by some type of giant squid.
Hah! A giant squid living in the river. Where did they ever get an idea like that?
I dont know, sir. I just know that Master Arlen was very serious when he told me to come straight here and straight back and not to leave the road.
Well, then, if Master Arlen said that you should hurry, then you should, said Jeryll holding out his hand for the package. Neiko placed the staff in Jerylls palm and then turned and hopped down the steps.
Neiko, Jeryll said to catch the boys attention. When he was sure that the boy had turned around, Jeryll tossed him a copper. Neiko barely had to move to catch the coin, so accurate was the throw.
How did you? he began. Jeryll simply winked and went back inside.
His mind began to race even as he calmly checked the caps on the end of his staff. The work was good and the caps fit snugly, just as they should. Arlen may not have been the best friend in the world, but he certainly was one of the best blacksmiths.
Jeryll did not ponder the matter long before he decided that ridding the town of a terrifying new beast might be a good way to show them that he was not the useless cripple that they believed him to be. Quickly Jeryll moved about his house packing the few things that he might need for an extended stay in the woods. He grabbed his bedroll, a large water skin, a pouch that he quickly filled with food that would stand up to the journey, his flint, a large hunting knife, a rain cloak, and his staff. Pausing at the front door, he almost turned back.
What am I doing? he thought. Why do I even want their approval? Why do I feel the need to prove anything to them? At that moment he realized that he didnt. He did not need to prove anything to the villagers, he needed to prove it to himself. Taking a deep breath, Jeryll yanked the door open and strode boldly out onto the porch. He took a moment to lock the door behind him, but then he did not look back again.
|
Anyone who likes to read something that's really dark and gritty and completely awesome ought to read The Night Angel Trilogy by Brent Weeks. You can check out a little taste at www.BrentWeeks.com I should probably warn you, though, that it is definitely not PG-13 :-D
He also started a new Trilogy with Black Prism, which may even surpass the Night Angel Trilogy in its awesomeness. 
|
|
|
|
riot the outsider
Learned Scribe
USA
121 Posts |
Posted - 07 Oct 2007 : 04:06:45
|
| Its tenicles splashed the water as it arose form its slumber.Unwear that today would be its last day of life.Thalo a peasent from the local village sat on a pile of sticks floating in the swamp,beavers were gathering them for there dame but thalo decided he need them more this was the day all the animals and people of his village would be at peace.No more would this creature lead them away from the swamp in fear of being eaten. Thalo gripped the the stick in his hands connected to his pluseing biceps ready for this moment. waiting for the creature to turn its vision from were he sat."I must wait till it turns around like the wise one said, or it will see me."" It can only since movement." Thalo sat as he watch it eat what ever ran into the swamp or what it could reach on the banks.Thalo sat still as he watch it tear apart a deer.All that was left was the bones that Thalo watch first hand fly into the air as the creature spit out the carcase.Thalo closed in his eyes in disguest of what he just saw.Trying to keep his mind on the plan.As the creature finished its meal it turned slowly around.This was it,Thalo moved fast as possible through the merky water that was the swamp.Not caring weather he was heard the dcreature moved much to slow he thought to catch the fastest running in the village which was him. The rushing water sound alerted the creature as it turn it saw nothing, except a branch that fell from a willow tree on the bank of the swamp. Thalo layed low on a branch in the tree that the branch had falling from.The creature moved through the water down the swamp and stop just under were Thalo lied on the branch of it,waiting for more sound more movement.Thalo bided his time then leap on to the creature from the branch that had just held him and plunged the heavy stick down into its soft flesh on top of its head and throw its skull to the brain.All of a sudden thalo was higher up than the trees the creature shook its head knocking thalo off crash sixty feet down into swamp below shattering his shoulder on a rock. He watch as the swamp water rose up around him and fell back down like rain.Looking it front of him he saw what he could make out as feet walking to far to the left pearing down the lenght of the swamp he saw a body thick,White and fromt he touch of it ice cold. Thalo walked down eyeing the creature and climding on to its chest pearing into its eyes. There was ruslling in the forst he could hear leafes being kicked up,it s was the people of the village running to see what the nosie was and saw stand on the chest of this giant Thalo stood helding his wounded shoulder smiling in the mist of the swamp. |
Those who fear the darkness have never seen what the light can do. http://s13.gladiatus.com/game/c.php?uid=67846
|
|
|
|
riot the outsider
Learned Scribe
USA
121 Posts |
|
| |
Topic |
|
|
|
Writing challenge
