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Story & Lore Mini-Contests: Remote Building

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Remixer

Map Reviewer
Level 31
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1,954
My Wip?
Home of...
I had always thought that this house was somehow occult and muggy. However I was enough stupid to go in here. The wooden planks of veranda were creaking under my feet as I walked towards the door that led into the house. I was exited and somehow also scared like a young boy awaiting Santa to come for the first time.
I laid my hand on the hilt the hilt felt wet and cold. I turned it around and pulled the door towards me. A loud creaking almost scared me to death. I was thinking that I have to be mad: "Why the hell am I entering this house? I am not even inside yet when I am shitting to my pants." After I was calmed down I kept walking into the house. The planks under my feet were cold and I felt like I would walk on dead bodies. After I had walked few meters from the door, I turned around and looked at the door: It was closed. I was terrified, how the door could close without a single sound of creaking? I walked back to the door fast and pulled the hilt again. It was jammed. I went into panic, I was so terrified. I was telling myself that there is a good explanation for this. It did not help however. I tried to open the door once more but it did not show any effect.
My heavy breathing echoed from the corridors like there would be a monster sleeping in the shadows of the house. I was scared as shit and I was standing next to the door like a baby is hugging mother after born. I took a look to the roof and I saw a candelabra hanging from the sealing. Before I even thought about it I realized that it was lit even though it was not supposed to. No one had entered the house for many years and I had been told not to go. I had always just laughed to the stories about this house.
I stopped thinking and started to listen that would I hear anything. Every thing was silent until I heard an odd calling voice that said "Who dares to enter..." I did not listen to rest of the words but I went into a panic and ran to the stairs that lead to the upstairs. I took the first step, the stair felt strong and I kept climbing up. I felt a cold air coming after me and I started to walk faster. In the top of the stairs was an old doll with curled red hair and light skin. One of the eyes was pulled out and the other eye had a hole in it. I stared at the doll of few seconds and then I began to pick it up. When my hand almost touched the doll the voice shouted "How dare you!" and I was terrified I left the doll and decided to go to the right corridor. It was very long and it had many doors to each side. I ran along the corridor and took the sixth door to the right. The door's number was 664. The door very old wooden door though it was easy to push. I went into the room quietly and took a look around me. In front of me was an old writing table, on it was a pencil and a pile of old yellow paper. In the left was only a wall that had a cracked and dirty round mirror on it. In the right was a bed in the corner and in the other corner was a bookshelf. I stepped towards and took a look at the mirror, I saw a scared and terrified face of mine and dirty sweatshirt. I looked myself for quite a long time until I realized that this is not normal. I took my look away from myself and stepped towards the table. On the paper pile was the pencil. I moved the pencil away from the papers and saw some text on the paper on the top of the pile: "660, 661, 662, 663 ,664, 665," there was something on that part but it kept going after it:" 667, 668, 669..." I realized that the numbers were the numbers of the rooms of the house. I took the pencil and circled the number "664", the number of the room I was in. The ink was dark red and I was thinking did they make red ink back then? The ink started to disappear and a voice said silently "Wrong room, wrong time, wrong man." The voice belonged to a young girl, possibly six or seven years old. I felt pretty shocked but I turned around and walked back to the corridor. The cold feeling was away I felt actually nothing but my hearth beating and my heavy breathing. I turned to right again and took the next door. Tried to open the door, but it was locked. I felt hilarious and knocked and asked "Any one there?" just for fun. But it did not feel fun when the girl's voice said "YES!" right behind me. It took only a hundredth of a second from me to turn around: Nothing. Just an empty corridor and a door that's number was "779". After my heart stopped to beat like a drum orchestra I kept walking and took the next door. This time I kept shut, I did not want to get scared to death. I took a look at the door. Similar to the door 664 but different number. Actually, it had no number. Odd I was thinking. I turned the handle of the door. It was locked, but on the floor was a old rusty key. I took it and putted it into the lock. Turned it carefully and "Lkocks" the lock opened. I pushed the door carefully and went into the room...

I continue later...
 
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Level 7
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401
This is what I believe to be the updated list of contestants... if I missed you please let me know what post you entered in, also if nobody beats me to it when the contest dead line is up I'll put a list of everyone's final posts involving their entries.
 
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Level 22
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Level 5
Joined
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Messages
127
Thank you, Remixer.

Here's my Work in Progress, feedback are greatly appreciated.

The Tower and the Witch

Prologue

A sound of an arrow flying through the air is the last thing Elenera heard before the sudden searing pain burst in her chest, running from the back of her body and without even looking down; she knows she’ll find a head of blood-covered arrow half-protruding from her upper body. Her entire body bends with the force of impact, sending her face up and instead of the ceiling, she sees a face.

A drop of tear runs down her cheek while she’s in the air. In that moment, like the entire world stop, all the feelings explode within her. The pain, the regrets, the wind on her face, the shoutings of people, the ecstasy of mana…

…then, silence.

She’s not afraid of what comes next for she embraced a fate worse than death long before this day. As her body hit the floor, she hears nothing. Neither the steps of people all around nor the wind. She slowly closes her eyes even before the owner of arrow slowly walking toward her in a dim, vertical sight.

She knew she deserves this, given a second chance she’d have gladly thrown herself in this situation yet again.

The only regret is that disgusting look in the eyes of her son.

The pair of green eyes that is staring directly from above her.

Regrets…


Origin of the Witch

In the ages past, a war erupted between two opposing factions of magic-users. The Circle of Thorns and the Magisterium of Summoners.

The Circle consisted of druids and are in favourable position as the old and powerful organizations being supported by the Elven Dynasty while the Magisterium is relatively new. The elves saw the Magisterium as humans playing with arcane magic and demonlings. In their belief, arcane magic is not only unnatural but temper the very fabric of reality and should not be allowed to use or practice. The humans, being radical or passionate that they are, refused to limit their study with all their might.

It was barely a war while the Circle’s sentinels keep pushing deeper into the Golden desert, homeland of the Magisterium. The sand people, like their kin at the Elemental court, decided not to interfere and offered no resistance or support while the army of drenched walking treants and exhausted elves march through their land.

Even being far from the source of their powers, the druids managed to keep winning against all kind of demonic summons the magisters could call forth and in a few months, the druids came to stand before the Red Fortress, heart of the Magisterium.

Unfortunately, fate played another card and the druids found themselves fighting for their lives when summoners and their creatures weren’t the only ones standing high on the wall.



I'll be writing all night, expect something shocking :D

edit:

Kinda need a feedback here, Which one sound better, the Prologue or the unfinished Origin ?

I planned on going with the lore-style but the prologue turn out better than I expected, so... I don't know. I could do either but not both.
 
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Level 5
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Jul 22, 2007
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127
Thank you, Vladadamm and Thanks, Remixer for the feedback!

Here's a fixed lore-only version of my entry.

Still a work in progress tho

The Tower and the Witch

Prologue

A sound of an arrow flying through the air is the last thing Elenera heard before the sudden searing pain burst in her chest, running from the back of her body and a head of blood-covered arrow half-protruding from her sternum. Her entire body bends with the force of impact and a drop of tear runs down her cheek while she’s in the air. The entire world stop and all range of emotions explode within her. The pain, the regrets, the fading ecstasy of mana and the rush of combat…

…then, silence.

Origin of the Tower and the Witch

In the ages past, a war erupted between two opposing factions of magic-users. The Circle of Thorns and the Magisterium of Summoners. The Circle consisted of druids and are in favourable position as the old and powerful organizations being supported by the Elven Dynasty while the Magisterium is relatively new.

It was barely a war while the Circle’s sentinels keep pushing deeper into the Golden desert, homeland of the Magisterium. The sand people, like their kin at the Elemental court, decided not to interfere and offered no resistance or support while the army of drenched walking treants and exhausted elves march through their land. Other magical factions such as the Church of Light, The Runemasters of the Isles and The Followers of Entropy had all stay on the side while some smaller factions like the Witchdoctors or the Shape-shifters might had as much as opinions.

Even being far from the source of their powers, the druids managed to keep winning against all kind of demonic summons the magisters could call forth and in a few months, the druids stood before the Red Fortress, heart of the Magisterium.

Unfortunately, fate played another card and the druids found themselves fighting for their lives when summoners and their creatures weren’t the only ones standing high on the wall.

The undead.

Skeletons and half rotten bodies were shuffling among the summoners and human wizards, shooting down volley of arrows after their masters’ magical bolts. Their numbers were not great enough to outnumber the army of elves and druid but the morale of the invaders dropped in a significant fashion.

The elves have always been terrified of the undead. The idea of being forced back from the afterlife is more disturbing to them than the idea of being controlled. They even formed a special regiment of sentinels, The Blackwatchers, to guard over their major graveyards and the Necropolis, a vast catacomb underground where the put the Archlich Igzisgul IX inside, waiting for him to rise again and put him back under before he start raising their ancestors. Nobody knows why the Archlich keeps coming back every few centuries; nobody knows how to destroy this Lich completely like other Liches either.

The druids came to a conclusion that the human can’t possibly decide to employ necromancy purely because they’re cornered. A more sinister force must have been at play. An investigation was needed and only a half-human female elf, Elenera, is brave or crazy enough to sneak into the Fortress.In one single rush, the ranger made her way up the wall and through a prison cell’s window where she met a young mage, confined in his cell for questioning the use of necromancy.

The boy introduced himself to her as Adrianne Pelegas, a teen prodigy who could repel any magical entities as if he’s immune and yet manage to master many spells in his apprentice years.

For some reason, the half-elf ranger trusted the boy and together, helps each other making their ways into the heart of the fortress. The teen prodigy, himself, suspected something wrong with the high-ranking wizards ever since the war broke out and the sudden skeleton army confirmed his suspicion.

They found the leaders of the Magisterium bowing before a dark and malicious-looking lich, consorting to bring about the full might of the Archlich Igzisgul himself with an ancient ritual of resurrection. The two sneaked out and informed the Circle of the High Magisters’ treachery. The Circle was horrified and sent Elenera the ranger to Blackhart, the village-fort of the Blackwatchers, to warn the sentinels. The elven sentinels in the ranger’s party heading back to Blackhart reported a developing romance between the half-elf and the young mage, who decided to accompany Elenera on the journey. The group arrived months later at the village-fort under siege by the undead from the underground Necropolis.

For months, Elenera and Adrianne helped the Blackwatchers hold back the army of the dead from swarming out of the catacomb without news from the Red Fortress when another messenger from the druid circle call for all rangers to return to the frontline at the Red Fortress. Adrianne stayed behind to help the Blackwatchers while Elenera hurries back across the desert to the war camps at the Red Fortress.

The Circle of Thorns’ high ranking druids believed that the lich Elenera and Adrianne saw is Igzisgul, himself, and his power is growing as the numbers of reanimated undead kept increasing each days the war dragged on. They planned to stop the Archlich in a decisive attack before his power is once again at his disposal and the only type of asset they could get close to the Archlich within the fortress is rangers.

Elenera, along with other rangers, successfully infiltrated the fortress and destroyed the lich and his treacherous humans. The Magisterium is no more and the non-necromancer magisters are taken prisoners, awaiting judgment.

The army of druids, elves, treants and rangers marched home victorious only to find half the forest burnt and corrupted with the taint of the undead. Elenera took three days and nights, tracking the undead trail of destruction from the ruin of Blackhart to the edge of the Evergreen Wood, home of the druid. She found the Archlich Igzisgul IX in the pale-skinned body of her lover, the prodigal Adrianne.

The number behind the Archlich’s name is not the number of the individual who hold the name but rather the number of a host to the Archlich’s undying spirit. The Archlich had chosen well this time, being beyond living and death that he is resulting in complete invulnerability against all kinds of weapon and Adrianne’s magic immunity ultimately made the Archlich at his most powerful manifestation ever since he became a lich or any liches will ever be.

When he was a mortal, Igzisgul was among the first necromancers and later one of the first and few liches still powerful enough to retain his spirit outside the bond between magic and flesh normal liches are bound to. Igzisgul saw the cycle of life and death as the ultimate joke and prison. He seeked a way to release himself from the cycle and when he succeeded by becoming a lich, he planned to spread the gift of the unlife to every living things to end this cruel cycle forever. It’s the only course of action that will ever matter. When nobody dies anymore and nobody is alive to give birth to new life anymore, then life and death will cease to exist.

For the next decade, the undead would come to be known as the Black Plague. The greatest undead threat that lay wasted to all living things without discrimination, sweeping through lands and kingdoms like a plague. The main horde of the undead kept moving on their tireless march, leaving behind destroyed towns and countless, wandering undead. The Church of Light, feeling directly threatened, called for a coalition among all kingdoms and magical factions. This period came to known as the Exalted Crusade.

The ranger Elenera was nowhere to be found among the ranking commander of the elf. Rumours speculated that the elders of the Circle of Thorns sent her searching all over the lands untouched by the Black Plague, a way to destroy or even remotely stopping the Archlich’s army. The rumour also said that she found a forbidden spell that will bind the Archlich down and strip him of his power. The spell, however, doesn’t help the host in anyway but force him to stay with the Archlich for an eternity.

No matter how much Elenera rebelled against sealing her lover away, the Circle could not risk anymore time for the Black Plague to grow with each mortal fell in their path. The most powerful magic-users in the crusade gather at a strategic mountain pass that lead to the rest of the continent. This will be their last stand as well for if they fall here, there’ll be no other strategic location that give them enough advantage to hold back the Black Plague of undead anymore.

The Archlich, leading the march of the undead, charged into the magic circle without hesitation. His horrific wailing, like a battle cry for the unliving, sent the entire horde climbing up the mountain, trying to break through the blockade of elves, humans and other living things. Elenera was also in this battle, she looked over the pass with heavy heart.

The elementals took all Igzisgul’s death blast, as they’re not exactly alive, to protect their mortal allies, who proceed to form the magic circle. When one of the ritualist fell, another ran up and takes his place. The battle raged on since the sunset and at sun dawn, the spell was complete.

The Archlich was draining life out of an elf druid when suddenly the ground beneath him turn pitch black void and sucked him down like a bottomless pit of obsidian quicksand. He let out another wail but unlike the first wail, this one was a frightened scream of anger and fear.

The recorded legend then told the story about the rebuilding of kingdoms and nations, how they prospered and cooperate with another allies in the crusade.
Everyone soon forgot about the ranger Elenera and the mountain pass that ended the biggest undead uprising.

The story went as far as the locals in the area noticed. They said the Elenera left a seed on the blackened soil where the seal closed on Igzisgul and wandered off, heartbroken. The story became a folklore for the locals. Decades later, the seed grew into a completely black bark tree with no leaf and one of the villagers in the area saw a woman singing to a tree every night.

The superstitious villagers formed a mob to take down the tree, believing it to be a bad omen and the woman to be mad, only to found a lone black-brick tower erected in place of the tree and the woman on the top, staring down at them. The villagers retreated in fear and forbade anyone from getting close to the tower, hoping that the woman will leave them alone.

The village suffered from various blights, all cattle die of mysterious disease and rotted in less than a day and all crop simply withered and die. The air became dreaded and all villages around the area were soon abandoned. The woman was believed to be the source of these awful events that befell the villages.

Without a doubt, they all said this woman, this witch was once the legendary ranger Elenera who learnt black magic to release her lover but returned fruitless and decided to keep everyone away until she find a way.

But the story of the Witch and the Nameless Tower has only just begun...



1,900 words and hopefully, the entire entry will be around ~ 3,000 words.

The story will then revolves around different groups of people, trying to root this tower out with different reason. That should be interesting to work with! (I'm motivating myself while typing it out at the same time lol)

Any feedback is greatly appreciated :)

ps. Off-topic a bit but I was listening to this song on repeat the whole time writing this
 
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Level 17
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Nov 4, 2008
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1,603
I offered to judge, but I can't. I must participate. Expect a WIP soon, girls and boys. ;)
 
Level 11
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Feb 23, 2009
Messages
577
I'm high kind of but maybe you'll like this?

Long have I dwelled in the midst of chaos.

My years of youth and happiness are now but a vague memory,
A painful reminder of my failure and mysery.

This place of doom that I now call my home,
Was once a beacon of strength and prestige for heroes,
But now broken and shattered and stripped of all hope,
It is now a sanctuary to demons and maggots.

As my mind begins to wander,
I sit in my chair and ponder,
To find the ways to carry my burden,
And deliver the world from this faith so certain.

And as I rage and shout and my anger takes over,
A bright light emerges from the depths of my shelter,
A demonic portal has openned to plunder,
But this time it is I who will cleave them asunder!

I take no moment to think twice,
And rush into the hells fiery mouth,
Leaving the world I knew behind me,
To destroy evil eternally.
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091
I'm high kind of but maybe you'll like this?

Long have I dwelled in the midst of chaos.

My years of youth and happiness are now but a vague memory,
A painful reminder of my failure and mysery.

This place of doom that I now call my home,
Was once a beacon of strength and prestige for heroes,
But now broken and shattered and stripped of all hope,
It is now a sanctuary to demons and maggots.

As my mind begins to wander,
I sit in my chair and ponder,
To find the ways to carry my burden,
And deliver the world from this faith so certain.

And as I rage and shout and my anger takes over,
A bright light emerges from the depths of my shelter,
A demonic portal has openned to plunder,
But this time it is I who will cleave them asunder!

I take no moment to think twice,
And rush into the hells fiery mouth,
Leaving the world I knew behind me,
To destroy evil eternally.

Wow really good... It doesn't really follow theme though...

And... "Rush into hell's fiery mouth" is much more grammatically proper.
 
Level 11
Joined
Feb 23, 2009
Messages
577
AAh yes indeed, but I was actually trying to type "Rush into the hellish fiery mouth".

It's a little vague I guess and not too on topic ;o

Long have I dwelled in the midst of chaos.

My years of youth and happiness are now but a vague memory,
A painful reminder of my failure and mysery.

This place of doom that I now call my home,
Was once a beacon of strength and prestige for heroes,
But now broken and shattered and stripped of all hope,
It is now a sanctuary to demons and maggots.

As my mind begins to wander,
I sit in my chair and ponder,
To find the ways to carry my burden,
And deliver the world from this faith so certain.

And as I rage and shout and my anger takes over,
A bright light emerges from the depths of my shelter,
A demonic portal has openned to plunder,
But this time it is I who will cleave them asunder!

I take no moment to think twice,
And rush into the hellish fiery mouth,
Leaving the world I knew behind me,
To destroy evil eternally.


PS: This image really inspires!
 
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Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091
AAh yes indeed, but I was actually trying to type "Rush into the hellish fiery mouth".

It's a little vague I guess and not too on topic ;o

Long have I dwelled in the midst of chaos.

My years of youth and happiness are now but a vague memory,
A painful reminder of my failure and mysery.

This place of doom that I now call my home,
Was once a beacon of strength and prestige for heroes,
But now broken and shattered and stripped of all hope,
It is now a sanctuary to demons and maggots.

As my mind begins to wander,
I sit in my chair and ponder,
To find the ways to carry my burden,
And deliver the world from this faith so certain.

And as I rage and shout and my anger takes over,
A bright light emerges from the depths of my shelter,
A demonic portal has openned to plunder,
But this time it is I who will cleave them asunder!

I take no moment to think twice,
And rush into the hellish fiery mouth,
Leaving the world I knew behind me,
To destroy evil eternally.

Well now it needs to be... "Hellish, fiery, mouth"

I'm pretty sure at least, someone can correct me on that, but two adjectives back to back do need some kinds of commas.
 
Level 17
Joined
Apr 3, 2010
Messages
1,101
AAh yes indeed, but I was actually trying to type "Rush into the hellish fiery mouth".

It's a little vague I guess and not too on topic ;o

Long have I dwelled in the midst of chaos.

My years of youth and happiness are now but a vague memory,
A painful reminder of my failure and mysery.

This place of doom that I now call my home,
Was once a beacon of strength and prestige for heroes,
But now broken and shattered and stripped of all hope,
It is now a sanctuary to demons and maggots.

As my mind begins to wander,
I sit in my chair and ponder,
To find the ways to carry my burden,
And deliver the world from this faith so certain.

And as I rage and shout and my anger takes over,
A bright light emerges from the depths of my shelter,
A demonic portal has openned to plunder,
But this time it is I who will cleave them asunder!

I take no moment to think twice,
And rush into the hellish fiery mouth,
Leaving the world I knew behind me,
To destroy evil eternally.


PS: This image really inspires!

Misery not mysery 2rd line or so
Maggots doesn't really seem to fit in line 4 stanza 2
Also the final stanza could be improved. Good work :D but a few points where it sounds a bit of. Otherwise very well made xD I especially like the 3rd stanza.
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091
Misery not mysery 2rd line or so
Maggots doesn't really seem to fit in line 4 stanza 2
Also the final stanza could be improved. Good work :D but a few points where it sounds a bit of. Otherwise very well made xD I especially like the 3rd stanza.

I concur.

Wretches and fiends sounds pretty good. Maybe vice versa. I don't like the sound of Demons...
 
Level 11
Joined
Feb 23, 2009
Messages
577
1st, I would like to say thank you for all the positive reviews!

Fixed all grammatical errors (I think).

I wrote it like El Cid is written (rhythm > all), which is why the "demons and maggots" sound a little off (and don't rhyme), I am putting emphasis on the disorder and disgust by hurting your ears ;D (lol).

However I am thinking of ways to improve it and am taking all this into consideration-trying to fix it. So feel free to rewrite parts of it as suggestions!

Also maybe this is all happening in his head ;O Because he is going crazy from loneliness muhahaha!!!...

Long have I dwelled in the midst of chaos.

My years of youth and happiness are now but a vague memory,
A painful reminder of my failure and misery.

This place of doom that I now call my home,
Was once a beacon of strength and prestige for heroes,
But now broken and shattered and stripped of all hope,
It is now a sanctuary to demons and maggots.

As my mind begins to wander,
I sit in my chair and ponder,
To find the ways to carry my burden,
And deliver the world from this faith so certain.

And as I rage and shout and my anger takes over,
A bright light emerges from the depths of my shelter,
A demonic portal has opened to plunder,
But this time it is I who will cleave them asunder!

I take no moment to think twice,
And rush into the hellish fiery mouth,
Leaving the world I knew behind me,
To destroy evil eternally.
 
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Level 20
Joined
Feb 24, 2009
Messages
2,999
Are the current criteria placehold or final? They just seem a little weird to me.
For e.g.

The majority of the points are for the Characters and you lose points (supposedly) if you only have one Character? It's a story contest so really the ability to tell said story, not define its characters should be most rewarded in my opinion (or everything should be equal).

I don't see how eloquence relates to: "Does the writing fit the piece?".

"Does it achieve a suitable reaction to what the story wanted to achieve?"
- A judge is very unlikely to know exactly what an author wanted to achieve. Even the author doesn't know half the time.

Just suggesting some fine tuning, nothing more. Good luck to all contestants! :)
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091
Are the current criteria placehold or final? They just seem a little weird to me.
For e.g.

The majority of the points are for the Characters and you lose points (supposedly) if you only have one Character? It's a story contest so really the ability to tell said story, not define its characters should be most rewarded in my opinion (or everything should be equal).

I don't see how eloquence relates to: "Does the writing fit the piece?".

"Does it achieve a suitable reaction to what the story wanted to achieve?"
- A judge is very unlikely to know exactly what an author wanted to achieve. Even the author doesn't know half the time.

Just suggesting some fine tuning, nothing more. Good luck to all contestants! :)

I agree 100%.

Number of characters is kind of stupid. It should be about how well you elaborate on the emotions of what characters you have. Even so, quality of writing, i.e. eloquence should be the most important factor, with the plot at number two.
 
Level 5
Joined
Jul 22, 2007
Messages
127
Are the current criteria placehold or final? They just seem a little weird to me.
For e.g.

The majority of the points are for the Characters and you lose points (supposedly) if you only have one Character? It's a story contest so really the ability to tell said story, not define its characters should be most rewarded in my opinion (or everything should be equal).

I don't see how eloquence relates to: "Does the writing fit the piece?".

"Does it achieve a suitable reaction to what the story wanted to achieve?"
- A judge is very unlikely to know exactly what an author wanted to achieve. Even the author doesn't know half the time.

Just suggesting some fine tuning, nothing more. Good luck to all contestants! :)

Actually, it doesn't specifically say that you'll be in any disadvantage if you have less characters than others.

How much depth is put into the characters? If there are more than one character, how well is the dialogue written and how well do the characters interact?

So, if you can go deep (pun seriously not intended) into that one character of yours in his/her beautifully developed personality and reactions to certain events ...then you'd totally win lots of character points.

It's just a generally hard thing to form a story that revolve around one character alone while still providing the excitement to the audience.

A risky way to compete but if anyone pull all the literacy tools right, it'll be an amazing entry to read. :)
 
Level 17
Joined
Apr 3, 2010
Messages
1,101
Actually, it doesn't specifically say that you'll be in any disadvantage if you have less characters than others.



So, if you can go deep (pun seriously not intended) into that one character of yours in his/her beautifully developed personality and reactions to certain events ...then you'd totally win lots of character points.

It's just a generally hard thing to form a story that revolve around one character alone while still providing the excitement to the audience.

A risky way to compete but if anyone pull all the literacy tools right, it'll be an amazing entry to read. :)


"It is just generally hard to form a story that revolves around one character alone ..."

----I am legend - Richard matheson :D

Good book. But yeh it doesn't say much about the social side of the character. Only the basis of a depraved character.


Also Grey if the writer has no direction to his writing then he is wasting his time. You don't just sit down and start typing random crap and expect it to be a story. You are obviously taking these things to seriously and literal. Although details may not be worked out yet. The writer should always have some idea what the story is going to be like.

Also there are several drafts usually for a reason.

If I intended to write a horror story then randomly have a huge rubber duck in the middle. That implicates some messed up writing. This week on the radio Vincent Price narrating "Attack of the mysteriously Rubbery and Large Duck"-I'm now quacking in my boots. ._. (Yey bad pun)

Eloquence:
el·o·quence/ˈeləkwəns/
Noun:
1.Fluent or persuasive speaking or writing.
2.The art or manner of such speech or writing


Anyway isn't the criteria -

Eloquence: "How well written is the piece/story? Does it use a wide range of vocabulary? Does the writing fit the piece?
Beauty of the writing"

Oh well.

Also the main reason why it is mostly resolved around characterization, is because a character does not just simply sit as a character. For you to describe a character you also have to relate it to his or her environment and their reactions. Characterization generally makes up the majority of a good book. If there were no characters, you would have a descriptive piece of many landscapes gradually changing. That wouldn't be a story.
If you remove the landscape, you have a plot. Plot's are generally all the same. What makes a good story is not the basis of the story as the that is usually the easiest part to decide upon, but instead the detail.

I would argue it is actually in fact easier to create a compelling 3 dimensional and much more intuitive character when focusing on one person instead of many in literature. Hence why most physiological thrillers or books that emphasis character, do this only once. If you only have one character, then you have more time to explore that character.

If i had 5 characters on an adventure it becomes very difficult to not sideline some of those characters into basic roles. So if you were to write about 1 character there is no disadvantage. At least in my eyes o_O

Currently characterization is set at "How much depth is put into the characters? If there are more than one character, how well is the dialogue written and how well do the characters interact?"

I think Apheraz helped define a lot of these better than they originally were. I admit at the start my explanation and criteria was horrible.

Apheraz's criteria is so much better and more xD
 
"It is just generally hard to form a story that revolves around one character alone ..."

----I am legend - Richard matheson :D

Good book. But yeh it doesn't say much about the social side of the character. Only the basis of a depraved character.


Also Grey if the writer has no direction to his writing then he is wasting his time. You don't just sit down and start typing random crap and expect it to be a story. You are obviously taking these things to seriously and literal. Although details may not be worked out yet. The writer should always have some idea what the story is going to be like.

Also there are several drafts usually for a reason.

If I intended to write a horror story then randomly have a huge rubber duck in the middle. That implicates some messed up writing. This week on the radio Vincent Price narrating "Attack of the mysteriously Rubbery and Large Duck"-I'm now quacking in my boots. ._. (Yey bad pun)

Eloquence:
el·o·quence/ˈeləkwəns/
Noun:
1.Fluent or persuasive speaking or writing.
2.The art or manner of such speech or writing


Anyway isn't the criteria -

Eloquence: "How well written is the piece/story? Does it use a wide range of vocabulary? Does the writing fit the piece?
Beauty of the writing"

Oh well.

Also the main reason why it is mostly resolved around characterization, is because a character does not just simply sit as a character. For you to describe a character you also have to relate it to his or her environment and their reactions. Characterization generally makes up the majority of a good book. If there were no characters, you would have a descriptive piece of many landscapes gradually changing. That wouldn't be a story.
If you remove the landscape, you have a plot. Plot's are generally all the same. What makes a good story is not the basis of the story as the that is usually the easiest part to decide upon, but instead the detail.

I would argue it is actually in fact easier to create a compelling 3 dimensional and much more intuitive character when focusing on one person instead of many in literature. Hence why most physiological thrillers or books that emphasis character, do this only once. If you only have one character, then you have more time to explore that character.

If i had 5 characters on an adventure it becomes very difficult to not sideline some of those characters into basic roles. So if you were to write about 1 character there is no disadvantage. At least in my eyes o_O

Currently characterization is set at "How much depth is put into the characters? If there are more than one character, how well is the dialogue written and how well do the characters interact?"

I think Apheraz helped define a lot of these better than they originally were. I admit at the start my explanation and criteria was horrible.

Apheraz's criteria is so much better and more xD

These are all things that describe most good literature. But being able to achieve good writing without the usual trends is also creative and original.
 
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I'm sorry, I'm gonna pull out of the contest, due to lot of things I need to do: 12 homeworks for 12 subjects to be passed in ONE DAY (absurdly fine for a regional science high school I'm in), practice for battle of the bands, compositions, researches, and many more. Again, sorry, especially those who even bothered to read my entry. Even still, I'm going to update this regularly; probably post this in another forum or here if possible, until it is finished.

Good luck to all contestants!
Also: Watch out for Fussiler's entry; it's damn good. :xxd:
 
Level 5
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Messages
127
Hence why most physiological thrillers or books that emphasis character, do this only once. If you only have one character, then you have more time to explore that character.

This part here, I concur.

Although, It'd be easier to distract the audience with a number of characters and their general developments through out the story however unrealistic or cliche most of them might be.


Personally, I'd rather read a story with a fully developed and explored character even if he/she is the only character but once in awhile I might enjoy flashy story with plain characters.


This is an equivalent of watching good movies and occasionally enjoying hollywood movies with horrible story but amazing CG. :p


edit: also, my entry is getting too big to finished within 5,000 words. I hope it's not against any rules to make the final entry a teaser preview of an actual story.
 
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Messages
127
Sorry for double posting but here's my updated Work in Progress because I figured since my last post was a reply in a conversation, I should make a separated post for this instead.


I've decided that the full-lore version is too.. plain and so, I wrote the event of the Siege of the Red Fortress through Elenera's perspective and the entire real-time narrating will be the final entry, mixed with lore here and there.

ps. This is another separated piece and will be combined with my lore version.


tumblr_mdp2wccivy1rgrey5o1_500.png

“By the First winter’s moon! Are those...?”

“Yes, Lady Elenera. Those are reanimated bodies.” A heavily armoured figure grunts in reply, holding his tower shield against volley of arrows that fell from the top of the crimson-coloured wall.

A brown-haired female elf in a short, flexible-looking ranger armour leaps from her burnt-treant cover closer to the armoured figure and under his shield.

“Never thought they’d go so far as necromancy.” Elenera replies.

She should not have been surprised. Humans have always been as impulsive as they’re creative, especially in such situation. Although, not a very positive creativity she’s fighting against right now.

“They’re just humans, Lady Elenera. What did you expect from them?” The armoured figure muffles under his mouth guard without even realizing that the famous ranger close to him is a half-human elf.

Elenera ignores the veiled insult and narrows her eyes, employing her eagle eye gift and confirming the source of these arrows raining around. Barely wearing any armour and pieces of skin hanging around exposed area, these archers are definitely undead.

The Red Fortress lies in the most strategically defensive position in the entire eastern part of the continent. Carved out of the Red Mountain range that separate the land and the vast ocean, the fortress face-out to its invaders and belonged to the sand people for centuries before the Elemental War broke out. The water elements slaughtered an entire population of the fortress before leaving it abandoned.

She shakes the uneasiness from her body with the thought of her mission and finds the lowest window on the wall. In a quick calculated decision, Elenera rushes toward the wall, making her way across the battlefield by tackling, sliding under soldiers and jumping on shields, shoulders and heads.

The elven warriors, seeing someone brave enough to head toward the wall, without hesitation, charges forward in a roaring wave alongside the ranger.

Elenera, still rushing her way toward the wall, barely notices arrows making its way through the elf she was talking to this morning beside her. All she could hear is the sound of her beating heart. She merges completely with the battle and only knows that her destination is dead ahead. The world slows down in her perspective and she is aware of everything that is happening even though she chooses to ignore most of it. She tilts her right shoulder backward to avoid a fiery magic bolt that proceeds to hit another elf in his ankle behind her. Her shoulder-plate protected her from the burning trail and in a split second, Elenera unconsciously lungs forward and rolls to avoid a horizontal array of arrows. She leaps up with such acrobatic skill and reflex that even most elves would find amazing and lands on the wall not too high from the ground.

She turns around and the reality of the situation overcomes her battle-rush as the only one who made it to the wall. The rest of the frontline elves and treants slowly making their way backward from the wall and none seem to realize that one elf made it through the no man’s land of the battlefield.
Once again, she shakes the uneasiness and feeling of guilt, that so many fell beside her, with the thought of her mission and focus on the window above. Ascending up the red wall with her bare hands, she keeps breathing sighs of relief that no one on the top of the wall is aware of her.

She has never been so determined in her mission like this. Elenera smirks to herself with the thought of how up until yesterday, she was whole-heartedly against this entire march to uproot summoning magic. Maybe, it’s her rebellious human blood in her veins that disagree with the elders and their old ways or maybe, having travelled around for so long, she’s fond of freedom more than most elves would ever be and this laws against somebody’s way of life is just oppression in her opinion.

It’s actually justifiable that the human summoners would be so desperate to call upon even forbidden classes of demons like the Praefectus-class or even the soul-possessing Haerus-class. However, necromancy is a whole new level of evil.

This morning, she was called in by the Circle’s elders from her self-imposed scout duty along with other rangers. The rangers covering the northern part of the fortress caught glimpse of robed human caravan, entering the Red Fortress through a secret passage several days before the siege. They proceeded to collapse the cave after but the observing rangers confirmed that they saw a black decorative coffin being smuggled in along with other objects in the caravan.

The Circle believes that this sudden uses of necromancy mark an unusually malicious change of war effort and something sinister is brewing inside the fortress. One of the elders even remarks that there could be a lich inside that black coffin.

Elenera grabs onto a protruded stone above the window and finds it barred with iron bars.

‘Must be a prison.’ She thought to herself while covering her lower body with her cloak before she conjures up an ice dagger. In two swift slice, a bar of iron parts from both of its base, top and bottom. Quickly grab the falling bar, Elenera swings her body, foot first into the gap she cut open and lands in a dark and muddy room. Judging from the dense smell, the room must be pretty small and definitely a prison.

The half-elf ranger finds herself turning to a corner with instinct the moment she heard a small gasp and before she could even see clearly, the ice dagger in her hand is now travelling toward the source of the voice.

The ice dagger melts mid-air and splash on the face of the mysterious figure in the dark that had enough time to only cover his face with both hands. When he let down his hands to see clearly, a small dagger lands its cold-steel tip on the skin of his neck in with a sound of the blade cutting through the air. He let out another gasp and traces his eyes along the blade and the arm that hold it toward a face of the blade’s owner, staring intently at him. A drop of blood slowly drips from the point his neck touches the steel and down the dagger onto the ground.

Elenera could easily kill this person in one twist of her wrist but she isn’t. She stopped herself from slitting his throat once she realized what this person did. He dissolved the magic that hold her conjured ice dagger without using any magic. It doesn’t matter if he silently casted the spell, she should have felt the magic. She’s half-elf and that should make her affinity to magic greater than average human and she’s a ranger. Her senses are highly trained.

She cautiously casts a small ball of light on her left hand and raises it to shine the entire room while still keeping the dagger pointed at this person’s neck. The dim light shows a male blond-haired human at the end of her dagger and he looks too young to be a guard. He’s in the magisterium apprentice clothing that are ragged and dirty and the look on his face is more shocked than terrified.

“Who.. Who are you and what are you doing in here?” uttered the human.

Really? There’s a war outside the window and she just broke in here. It’s usually not that hard to guess. Elenera ignores the human and looks around the room for any more surprises.

“Hey! I asked you a question and I demand an answer right now!” The human raises his voice at the half-elf.

She presses her dagger on his neck a little more and turns to him, frowning.

“You demand? You magisters might have forgotten that sharp thing on your neck means you’re in no position to demand anything.” She smirks at him while examining the human.

The human is unusually young with short blonde hair and side fringes, green eyes and a faded bruise on his left cheek. He must be no older than 25 years old and with his clothing, a magister apprentice for sure.

She lowers her dagger but before the young magister could move or shift for a less tensed position, the ranger lungs her right knee forward and directly into his lower abdomen. The pain of the impact sends the young man back to the wall and slowly falls into a sitting position.

“That should keep you quiet for now. I bid you farewell, young human, for I have somewhere important I should be.” Looking down on the human, Elenera says her goodbye before pushing the door open. The door, however, isn’t budging at her push. The half-elf tries pushing again, harder, to no avail.

‘Well, this really is a prison cell.’ Elenera thinks. She’s also wondering why did she think otherwise when she should have known that this room is definitely a prison cell.

“Wha… Why didn’t… Why didn’t you.. kill me?” The mage on the floor asked, breathing heavily with pain.

“You’re too young to kill.” She replies.

“You’re going… to regret this.” The mage raises his face in respond, staring directly at the half-elf for the first time.

“Of course, I will. This is war. I regret being a part of it.” The ranger’s tone deepens with seriousness without herself noticing.

“So… why don’t you..”

“I will regret not killing you less than I will regret killing you. Call me strange but a girl gotta hold on to something to believe in during a war or she loses herself in all the killings and violence.” Elenera keeps going on her speech unconsciously while she examines the lock on the prison door. The young mage listens to her words as if being charmed.

“…and I choose to believe….” She stabs her steel dagger in the key hole and twists the blade forcefully clockwise.

“…in people.”

A sound of iron breaking inside the lock startles the mage and snaps him out of his attentive trance on the half-elf’s self motto. She turns the dagger horizontally and slices through the lock to the right before parts of the key hole drop to the floor.

“I’m going to leave the door open in case you want to sneak out or you could try warning to guard. I really don’t care.”

As Elenera carefully opens the creaky prison door, the mage utters “Wait! I’m going with you”

She pauses, eyes widens a little as she turns her head to the young human in disbelief while he rises up with difficutly, leaning against the wall.


Full lore-only version here.

http://www.hiveworkshop.com/forums/2243880-post163.html


edit: Again, feedbacks are greatly welcomed and appreciated.
I tried not to make grammar mistakes or typos but if you spot any, point it out for me please.
edit2: Got bored and made the chapter cover :3
 
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Level 4
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Contest Entry

Here I also put the outline of the story:


Prologue
Chapter I – Sorrowful Memories
Chapter II – The Disguise
Chapter III – Distant Land
Chapter IV – Armies of Thousand
Chapter V – Sacred Artifact
Chapter VI – Hidden Passage
Chapter VII – Indefinite Time
Chapter VIII – The Fated Task
Chapter IX – The Great Dawn


Prologue
"Besides, what can a mere child do? Just let him be. He will not survive after he saw what happened anyway. Hahaha!" These were the last words I heard before Vermoon turned into ashes. Fire scorching throughout the lands, taking the innocent lives of everybody. Houses were burned into the ground, our village fell beneath the sky as I watched the sun depart and darkness began to devour everything. Is this the punishment we got for not following the order of the Emperor? We wanted to live peacefully. We just wanted to be free from the chains the war caused us. My hands are shivering. I don't want to live in this nightmare.

Chapter I - Sorrowful Memories





WIP#1 I wish I finish this on time. T.T 6 days to go.

Any suggestions or error check is highly appreciated!
 
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Level 20
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Also Grey if the writer has no direction to his writing then he is wasting his time. You don't just sit down and start typing random crap and expect it to be a story.

Many an author has claimed that they merely put pen-to-paper and see where it takes them. I wasn't suggesting a writer never knows where he's going with a story, but often it's the case that he or she is undecided on several potential plot paths or some points of finer detail.
 
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Many an author has claimed that they merely put pen-to-paper and see where it takes them. I wasn't suggesting a writer never knows where he's going with a story, but often it's the case that he or she is undecided on several potential plot paths or some points of finer detail.

Many an author lol.

Most people plan out their story's plot prior to writing it. A lot of people plan the scenes down to the last word, that's how I usually do it, general in a day dream during school.
 
Many an author lol.

Most people plan out their story's plot prior to writing it. A lot of people plan the scenes down to the last word, that's how I usually do it, general in a day dream during school.

Just because you decide everything before you write, doesn't mean everybody does. Some people write, and see where their writing takes them, until they have enough to come up with the rest to fit what they've written. Requiring that everyone know what they're going to write before they write it would disqualify anyone who "free writes" from participating.

It's just like drawing -- Some people decide everything before they draw it, and others simply start drawing, and see what they end up making.
 
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Just because you decide everything before you write, doesn't mean everybody does. Some people write, and see where their writing takes them, until they have enough to come up with the rest to fit what they've written. Requiring that everyone know what they're going to write before they write it would disqualify anyone who "free writes" from participating.

It's just like drawing -- Some people decide everything before they draw it, and others simply start drawing, and see what they end up making.

Nothing ever comes of mindless scribbling.
 
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