Bazzlebane Posted August 4, 2006 Share Posted August 4, 2006 So as it stands, the upcoming order is this: Maid Sansa (at work now) MinDonner Ser Bazzlebane FYI -- I leave for vacation a week from today. If MS and MD are quick, I'll be able to write mine before I go. But if they aren't, I might have to pass my turn. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Maid Sansa Posted August 5, 2006 Share Posted August 5, 2006 Ask, and ye shall receive... I give you, Ladies and Gentlemen... Chapter 3 Hammer Greatmage made his way slowly and carefully to the next village. Still no dragons in sight. Maybe he wouldn't have to use Chuck Norris again after all - he was notoriously unstable, and tended to say things like: "The quickest way to a man's heart is with my fist," which annoyed Hammer Greatmage inordinately if he had to hear it more than twice before his first cup of morning coffee. He walked down the forest path to the decent-sized house in the distance. This particular woman that threw herself at him some sixteen years ago had been nothing out of the ordinary concerning looks, but her father was a moderately prosperous merchant who was able marry her off when Hammer got her pregnant. Her husband died some time ago, though. A well-dressed man came running headlong on the path, bumped into him and almost knocked him down. "Easy, my good man," Hammer said. "Tell me, is that the way to widow Willow's house?" An unfortunate sound, that, Hammer mused. She should have remarried. "Aye, it is," the man replied. "And much luck do I wish you of it, if you're seeking her hand in marriage, like so many others. Oh, that Rowan! Such a temper!" Dread filled his broad, honest face, and without another word, he scrambled off. Hammer Greatmage felt the thing that was hope rise in him. A son that inspired such fear in men at sixteen, eh? It sounded promising. But the moment he entered the house, Hammer Greatmage heard a scream. No, he clinically corrected himself, a shriek. Whatever could it be? Willow, as he remembered, had been very sweet and even-tempered. Quickly, he climbed the stairs to the first floor to enter the parlor from which the shrieks were coming, when, for the second time in ten minutes, his body was in the way of someone's desperate flight to freedom. This time, though, he was knocked to the floor, and the unfortunate offender with him where he lay in a heap of electric blue satin, carefully curled locks and misery. Right on time, a thin, sharp-looking woman hurried out of the parlor and surveyed the scene. "Oh, hello, Hammer," she said matter-of-factly. "Nice to see you again. Meet your...." "Aaaaaaa!" the creature in the blue satin wailed. "I wanna wear a gooooown!" "... daughter?" Hammer said, stunned. "... son," Willow finished. Conrad Greatmage the Unenthusiastic was polishing his Silver Skull of Portentousness halfheartedly when Evil Minion Two Thousand Eleven barged into his inner sanctum and was promptly disemboweled by spikes that appeared from cunningly hidden holes on each side of the door. Conrad yawned. Behind him, Evil Minion Three Hundred Fifty One peeked inside cautiously. "Er... glory to the darkness, may the anguished screams of your enemies echo loudly?" he whispered. Conrad smiled. "Very good, Three Hundred Fifty One," he said. "At that rate, you may be promoted to lieutenant soon." "If m'lord doesn't mind, I'd sooner not. They have to sleep on beds made of your sacrifices' skin and hair. I really prefer a nice spring mattress," the minion replied. "My back isn't what it used to be, and I'm allergic to leather." Conrad almost smiled again. "Anyway, I come to bring m'lord news. Grrrrave news!" He almost brought off the ominous growl. "Your great great great uncle the Greatmage went to see... THAT Rowan." Conrad sprang up. "Shit! Not THAT one? He doesn't know?" "No, m'lord." "Shit, shit, shit! And no dragons available! This means I have to go myself!" And he disappeared in a puff of smoke that smelled rather pleasantly of lavender. ".... so I said to my mother, you can't make me do fencing, it looks stupid, and I'd only sprain my ankles, and I already sing better than my tutor and the jousting practice puts splinters into my fingers so I can't play the lute for the whole day which is just horrid and dark colours are so last century and these hose are too tight and gowns just look so much better and I want to wear a gooooown! With lace!" Rowan's tirade was slowly nearing its end, and Hammer Greatmage's eyes have been glazed over for the last two hours. He couldn't even summon the mental energy to curse this son of his into oblivion, and was now inclined to think that the ability to sap all will from him was a special power only Rowan posessed. After an hour, he summoned Chuck Norris in desperation, but Chuck Norris had taken one look at Rowan, mistaken him for a damsel in distress and was now committed to defending him from all harm. He barely noticed the smell of lavender that heralded Conrad's arrival. Conrad appeared, stumbled on the carpet and honed in on the source of all the talking. Rowan, of course. His great great great uncle was still listening to the boy, which didn't bode well for Conrad's future career prospects, so he started casting the death spell. Rowan, seemingly oblivious, continued: "„... so my magic tutor told me, at least, and I experimented on my own with infinite sequences, and really, differential equations magic is so much more pretty and rewarding than additive..." Conrad startled, and let his unfinished spell crumble into an unsightly heap of dried daffodils on the carpet. "Wait a minute!" Rowan looked at him, startled, and Chuck Norris just glared. "Differential equations?" "Uh-huh. I'm pretty good with multiplicative magic, too. Just those silly curve integrals avoid my compehension and..." "That's it!" Conrad exclaimed. "Infinite sequences are the key! Boy, you're going to teach me all of it!" Hammer Greatmage seemed to rouse himself at that, and protested. "The boy is MY heir!" "Well, you can have him when I'm done! I'll be greater than you anyway, and then we can have a proper wizarding duel!" "You young whippersnapper! You..." Their bickering was interrupted by Rowan's anguished wail: "I want you to call me Rowena!" They looked at each other in despair, and shrugged. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MinDonner Posted August 5, 2006 Share Posted August 5, 2006 Good work! Looks ilke it's me up next, I'm on the case. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Wolf Maid Posted August 5, 2006 Share Posted August 5, 2006 Cross-dressing heroes! Good luck, MinDonner! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Minaku Posted August 6, 2006 Author Share Posted August 6, 2006 Maid Sansa, it's genius! The only thing is that the opening quotes are upside down - well, upside down for English, anyway - to me. Is it possible to fix them in your posts? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Maid Sansa Posted August 6, 2006 Share Posted August 6, 2006 Minaku - thank you and done. It was my word processor's fault! Honest! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Isis Posted August 6, 2006 Share Posted August 6, 2006 Oh, mini-squee, I love these things. Great additions from everyone. Can I be another sub? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MinDonner Posted August 6, 2006 Share Posted August 6, 2006 OK, I've been quick so that Ser Bazzlebane can have a go - here we have: Chapter 4 - The Romantic Interest is introduced. The woods around Muddy Marsh echoed with an unfamiliar sound. Not the cawing of carrion crows; not the grunts and growls of some fell beast; nor yet the lusty battle-songs of a barbarian horde. No, the sound breaking the eerie silence and sending the shade-moths into agitated flocks was the reedy voice of Grimnir Whoresdaughter, and her unceasing stream of muttered complaints. Grimnir, it is true, had plenty of cause to complain. The gods had seen fit to bless her with a face like the back of a donkey, and a temperament to match. Her mother, the illustrious Madame Fellace, had tried for years to correct these faults and prepare her daughter to take over the family brothel, but last week she had been forced to admit her failure. Grimnir would never be a successful whore; the face could be fixed with powders and paint, but her tendency to ignore the client's wishes and just indulge her own preferences every time was losing them business. So, last week, she'd received her final payment and been sent out on the road to seek her fortune elsewhere. Muttering and cursing to herself, Grimnir continued through the forest. She had tried to dress herself as a female warrior, but unfortunately the only armour at hand had been that from the Battle-Chick Fetish Room, and consisted of a chainmail bikini stretched tight across her stocky frame, and a short leather kilt that barely came down to her thighs. The punters loved it, but it was hardly practical for life on the road; in addition to this, she had fallen into the Muddy Marsh some hours earlier, ruining those expensive thigh-boots, and was now caked with mud. The autumn winds were whistling down from the Northern Wastes, and she was absolutely freezing - if she didn't find some shelter soon she'd be in trouble. She stumbled along, cursing the weather, her mother, and her younger sister Chanelle who would now inherit the business, the bordello that should be rightly hers. Suddenly her grumbling was cut off by a howl, somewhere nearby in the forest. She froze. There had been rumours that frost-wolves had been seen in the area, but she had thought it just the rambling of drunkards. The sword at her hip was useless, as (like her breastplate) it was just made of hammered tin, but she drew out her whip cautiously - after all, she had been well-trained in its use. After a few minutes, when all seemed quiet, she carefully started moving again, towards the cliffs rising up at the edge of the forest - maybe there would be a cave where she could shelter. She sighed - why hadn't she gone to the capital city? The clan of Whoresdaughter was well-respected in the trade, and she could certainly have found gainful employment in any of the major houses, at least until they'd found out how crap she was at the job. And she could always just turn a few tricks on the street to make ends meet. What on earth had possessed her, to head out into this wilderness? Chasing the thousand-crown bounty for the head of Conrad Greatmage seemed like such a good idea at the time, but she was really regretting her decision now. The sun was edging towards the horizon when she finally spotted a cave entrance in the cliff wall. Not a moment too soon - the yellow-white clouds overhead began to spew out a flurry of snow, as if they had drunk too much cream liqueur on an empty stomach. Just as she reached the cave entrance, however, she heard another howl - this time coming from inside the cave. She looked back, but the snow had already obscured her footprints - there was no going back now. She gulped, re-coiled her whip, and headed into the darkness at the back of the cave, towards the source of the howling. Once her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, she could see that there was a frost-wolf lying on the cave floor. Why had it not attacked her? She stepped closer, and saw that the wolf's hind leg had been broken, and was lying at a strange angle. The howls had been howls of pain and hunger, not aggression. Could she see a pleading expression in the wolf's dark eyes? She checked her packs to see what food she had left, then nodded to herself. Some time later, a fire was blazing in the cave, creating a cosy atmosphere that almost felt like home. Grimnir was even more cosy than that, thanks to the new wolf-pelt cloak that adorned her shoulders. The haunch of wolf-meat over the fire was cooking nicely, and she would be able to smoke the rest for her journey into the mountains. She sheathed her knife and smiled. The day was turning out well after all. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Maid Sansa Posted August 6, 2006 Share Posted August 6, 2006 Lovely! Now we have all the cast - the wise old mentor, the teenage rebel hero, the dark, brooding sidekick and the love interest... and it's up to the next person to decide whose love interest Grimnir will actually be! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bazzlebane Posted August 6, 2006 Share Posted August 6, 2006 Okay, I'm on the case. I'm thinking this story needs some more violence. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Minaku Posted August 7, 2006 Author Share Posted August 7, 2006 Whoa, that was fast! And that was wonderful, mindonner! Don't forget to post your portion in the thread in Forum Games. Lookin' forward to your part, Bazzle! And of course, Isis, I will add you to the sub list. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Wolf Maid Posted August 7, 2006 Share Posted August 7, 2006 Yes, all the cast is here! Good luck, Sir Bazzlebane... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
pat5150 Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 Hi guys! When I first saw this thread, I really wanted to contribute. But life and my own writing projects have gotten in the way. Still, I'm reading your stuff and enjoying it! Keep up the good work! And even though I can't participate this time around, perhaps you guys can help me out. While I wait for HarperCollins' editors to finally let me know if my fantasy manuscript, THE EYE OF THE SERPENT, is something they want to pick up and publish, I simply couldn't continue to work on the sequel, THE CELESTIAL DRAGON. As it is well nigh impossible to get an agent to represent you when you're an unpublished fantasy author, I've decided to work on something more accessible to, hopefully, get my foot in the door of the publishing world. Hence, I've been working on a novel chronicling the adventures and misadventures of four people backpacking around Europe for one summer. The manuscript is titled TIME OF YOUR LIFE, and I'm almost done. Like Scott Lynch and Jeff Vandermeer, I've decided to post a few excerpts online, in the hope of attracting potential agents and editors, as well as getting feedback from a variety of readers. If anyone is interested, just follow the link to the blog. Thanks and best of luck in all your writing endeavors! Patrick Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MinDonner Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 Best of luck with that Pat - I'll be glad to help you out with a bit of critiquing! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bazzlebane Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 I'll try and take a look at that Pat. Meanwhile, here is my addition to our expanding tale. The violence, it turns out, is minimal, but I feel I've added a key development to our story. And several lovely colors. Rowena outdoes herself sometimes. She makes for a unique protagonist in fantasy literature. Comments, compliments, or constructive criticism welcome. ------------------------------------------------------ Chapter Five - A Caveside Encounter Rowena looked around the many sparkling lights that obscured her vision. It was an unfortunate side effect of her newly crafted transportation spell, Subtract Wizard, that bursts of incandescent light followed the wizard for an hour afterward. That, and she hadn't figured out yet how to choose where the spell transports her to -- of course, Rowena realized that element was less side effect than main effect. The spell would require some tinkering. That was neither here nor there, at the moment, for Rowena herself was neither Here nor There, if by Here or There one thinks "somewhere Rowena recognized". That was why she was looking around, trying to figure out where in the world she was. Despite her multi-hued confusion, the spell had clearly been necessary. She was loath to end up the length of hemp rope in a game of tug-of-war between her windbag, derelict father Hammer Greatmage and cousin-of-sorts Conrad Greatmage. That, and if she ever convinced Hammer to look at her as a woman, he'd almost certainly hit on her. That did not even bear contemplation. She had also wanted to get away from the strange man with a mangy beard declaring his love for her. Hammer had referred to him as "Ktchuk Nor'Ris", or somesuch, but if she ever saw him again she'd singe that beard down to his jawbone. So that was how she found herself in a strange, misty bog surrounded by flashing orbs of teal, saffron and plum. Another day Rowena might have paused to appreciate the tones; her artistry had advanced quite nicely from the days she could only create primary colors. But today was another matter; there she was, with only her sparkling, blue satin dress in the middle of a strange murky land. Dinner and a goose-down mattress were what she really wanted, not too mention a nice phantasmal loom to weave tomorrow's dress. A blaze of fire caught her vision. It was not a further, new interesting manifestation of Subtract Wizard, but rather an actual fire burning in a distant cliff-side cave. With few other prospects, Rowena set out to investigate this potential shelter. - - - - - - - Grimnir had arisen that morning with a fresh attitude. The previous night's slumber, with the greasy wolf meat filling her belly, readied her for any challenges the day might bring. The remains of the haunch -- some bits of marrow she was heating over her fire -- provided a fantastic breakfast. Grimnir broke the femur over her thigh and used her knife to draw out more. As she was about to enjoy an particularly bony bit, she heard a voice calling from outside the cave. Grimnir dropped the haunch of frost-wolf and reached for her whip. She crept forward to the cavemouth and peered out at the morning light -- and was promptly startled by a lilac burst in front of her face. It was then she saw the ragged figure of a thin boy, with girlish hair and a muddy dress, standing outside the cave, his legs three feet up in the muck. Her mother had long warned her of the danger posed by pansies (primarily, they took a good, hard working whore's job -- and Grimnir wasn't even hard working) so Grimnir promptly cracked her whip on across the boy's face and chest. "Ahhh!" he cried. "Is that all you can think to say? Dance for me, you dandy!" Grimnir whipped the boy again, this time wrapping his legs, and with a timely lift of her muscled arm, pulled the boy from his feet and deposited him, backside first, into the gray sludge that defined Muddy Marsh. "BBlughh!" the boy managed through a mouth full of muck. "Well, I'll give you a couple marks for effort at least on that one.", Grimnir muttered. The lad sat up and gestured at Grimnir. Grimnir was then startled to find herself against the back of the cave, with a distinct pain in her spine as if she had been flung there. Her muscles couldn't, or wouldn't, move. The bits of her maille bikini were digging into her flesh. The boy, now covered in sludge, had followed her in, and had an angry look in his eyes. He was holding her whip. Grimnir only hoped he didn't know how to use it. - - - - - - - Rowena reached back to whip the garish creature that had humiliated her moments before. Vengeance was almost as tasty as a plump capon roasted with fresh Torrovian Giant Lemon-Ants. What Rowena hadn't considered was that she had no idea how to properly use a whip, and it ended up a tangled mess wrapped around her neck. "No, no, you have the motion all wrong," the creature stated from the back of the cave. "You need to transfer the power from your shoulder, not just the wrist." "Who are you, foul beast? What are you?" "I am woman, Grimnir of Clan Whoresdaughter. Free me and I will teach you the ways of the whip." - - - - - - - Grimnir Whoresdaughter and Rowan Greatmage sat over the fire chewing on bits of frost-wolf the rest of that morning. By the time Grimnir was boiling the brain and tongue to make a traveling-stew, they had decided to pursue the bounty on Conrad Greatmage together. And to trade outfits. Rowan looked smashing in a maille bikini, they both agreed. Grimnir even agreed to call him Rowena. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bazzlebane Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 ----- So Mad Moose is pencilled in next. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
RedSock in Westeros Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 That was highly enjoyable, Ser Baz. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
diabloblanco18 Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 And to trade outfits. Rowan looked smashing in a maille bikini, they both agreed. Grimnir even agreed to call him Rowena. Eventually I'm going to stop laughing. Eventually. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Moosicus Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 ----- So Mad Moose is pencilled in next. Understood. I feel my thing rising already. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bazzlebane Posted August 8, 2006 Share Posted August 8, 2006 Eventually I'm going to stop laughing. Eventually. What? That was supposed to be a tender moment of acceptance. That was highly enjoyable, Ser Baz. Glad you liked it. It was a very fun exercise to write it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Archived
This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.