quote:Original post by ahw

It just downed on me that I didn''t even criticise sunandshadow text. After all, he initiated this thread !

Well, I realy liked the short length, yet the amount of ideas in it. And as well, it''s a nice, kinda esoteric text. I mean, it''s original ...

Well, but I also agree with kylotan that some of the words are misplaced ... but then again, not all of the people on hte forum are native english speakers. I am not.

Maybe it would be nice to see more writings like that.

Sunandshadow is a she! Don''t worry, I''m very used to that. Maybe I should put my gender in my user info...

Anyway, thank you. I was trying to make God seem very casual and chatty and gossipy. After all, if you were God, would you be worried about speaking perfectly? Who''s going to complain if you don''t?

I didn''t think about how that slang might read to someone who''s a non-native English speaker, or even from Britain or Australia where the slang is different. Gigundous, for example, is a portmanteau word - a combination of two other words, specifically gigantic and tremendous. Using a portmanteau word usually signifies exaggeration and extremeness. The term ''portmanteau'' comes from Louis Carrol''s Through the Looking Glass; it''s the word for a suitcase with a compartment in each half. More than you ever wanted to know, right? Yadda yadda yadda, on the other hand, while current slang when I wrote the story, seems to have faded away. Perhaps Blah blah blah would be better? I dunno. And I thought Eureka fit fine, but that''s just my personal opinion.

LMAO
Damn people stealing our words !
What''s so cool about using french words why do they always sound SO sexy, or posh ?! portmanteau, is spelled "porte-manteau" and is a simple coat hanger thing. usually at the entrance of a flat, "carry-coat'' is the translation. But anyway I get carried away
For the nickname, I guess that''s the problem with neutral words But personnaly I prefer that to a h4x0r l33t handle ...

As for the comments I made, it''s not really the words themselves that seemed disturbing, rather the break in the rythm... something about consistency of tone, I dunno really. I tried not to do the same mistake in my own text, but it''s not perfect yet, I am trying to give a sort of vocable to each character, I am actually writing another little story for some characters of mine (for an RPG scenario). As soon as I am proud enough, I''ll post it. And tomorrow, I''ll scan and try to see what I can do with a little illustration I''ve got for the first text.

Anyway ...

Let''s be creative !

youpla :-P

(ps : No I am not that worried about you not knowing the etymology of every word you use, I''m just slagging )

The elf story was nice.Come on, keep this thread alive ! Post your own writing samples (I''ll do so soon).

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Eajan was up with the dawn this morning. He knew he would be leaving today, and part of him was glad for it. He could not understand why anyone would spend so much of their lives helping others without thought of payment or reward. He also could not understand why he felt that way. He was truly grateful to these dedicated individuals who had saved his life, but something inside wanted him to laugh at these fools. These feelings had been plaguing him from the moment he awoke. He should be dead, he almost felt as if he deserved death, but they saved him. He wanted to mock the other injured and sick at the hospice, but he knew he was in the same position. “Blame it on the amnesia,” he kept telling himself. “Something really rattled my brain, and it’s left me confused and alone.” That must be it. The head injuries had been the worst. He would have died the night he was brought here but for the Abbot, who knew much about head injury and was able to stop the internal bleeding. Still, without memory or any knowledge of himself, Eajan felt these confusing feelings were just a result of the head wound.

Even his name was not really his own. Or maybe it was, but one of the nurses had taken to calling him that when he couldn’t remember his own. She said he reminded her of her brother, and his name had been Eajan. It grated him to no end at first, but he had gotten used to it, and the nurse had always meant it to be a great compliment. Even now, the strange feelings of anger and resentment at being given a hand-me-down name returned, confusing him even more. Marjori was his friend, and the one who had cared for him the most, yet these feelings returned. Why? This question was the reason he was leaving today. He had come to appreciate everything they had done for him, especially Marjori, but he had to discover his past and overcome these strange emotions.

"Beautiful morning, isn’t it?" the familiar voice sounded behind him. Unstartled by her approach, he let out a sarchastic grunt without turning around. "Why are you always acting so cynical? I know you’re not like that, but whenever I catch you off guard, you’re scowling at somebody or making some rather unflattering remark about something." The comment surprised him as nothing had since he awoke here three weeks earlier. All of his strange emotions and off-guard reactions were exactly that, cynical. As if everything around him should be a joke and all the people only fools to him, but he couldn’t accept that view in light of his treatment.

"Just the confusion, Marj," he quickly responded, "I still don’t know what to make of my life." He turned from the high window to face his closest friend and sat on the bed next to her. "You’re right though. I hadn’t noticed it, but you’re right."

"Right about what?"

"Being cynical. I’ve been acting this way the whole time unless I was careful. I thought it a result of the head injury, like the amnesia, and it may be that, but mostly I feel cynical about everything here, and I don’t know why." He took great comfort in her caring face, always ready to listen.

"Eajan, dear, you’ve an opportunity most would die for. You’re faced with the chance to make your own life here. You can’t remember who you were, but maybe those feelings are what’s left of the old you, someone who grew so weary of life he nearly gave it up. I wouldn’t let you then, and I don’t think you will now. You can go out into the world and find yourself all over again. Along the way, you’ll find more about your past, I’m sure, and more about yourself than you ever knew." She paused for a moment, smiling and touching his cheek lightly. "I envy you that much, and you’ll fix whatever’s ailing you now that we’ve taken care of what we can."

With that, Marjori stood and started walking away. "Just remember to come back and visit from time to time."

Watching her go, Eajan thought more about what she had said. As she leaned down to check on one of the other patients, he knew he would be back. That much he owed these people. He would return when he knew who he was and he would introduce himself to them again. Marjori had known he was leaving, though he had hoped not to tell anyone. He was certain they would not let him yet, but Marj knew him enough to know he would not be stopped.
Pulling the roll of blankets from under the bed, Eajan made quietly for the garden door. The gardeners would be up this early, but they wouldn’t mark his passing as anything unusual, despite the large bundle on his back. He just didn’t want any of the others seeing him go. He had left a note on his bed, surprising even himself at his writing skills. Every day he learned more about himself, some of them giving him clues to his former life. He could read and write, spoke three different languages (that he knew of), and had the fastest reflexes anyone at the abbey had ever seen. "What will I discover tomorrow?" he thought, but that was for tomorrow.

Easily scaling the wall, yet another interesting skill he had discovered, he headed into the woods behind the abbey and made a wide circle to the South to the road. His plan was sketchy at best, but he didn’t really have anything better to do. First, Fort Habbral to see what can be found there. With only a small amount of food from the kitchen and no money, he couldn’t go far, so that seemed like the best place to start.



Well, that''s just the beginning. What do you think?


Pax

Thanks, S&S for validating my orignal plea for a writer''s section on GDNet. They still won''t do it, but, oh well.

Me, I''m not really a writer. But I did write most of the shocking material that will be posted at http://www.landfish.com/, when it FINALLY goes up. Soon, my firneds... soon...

======
"The unexamined life is not worth living."
-Socrates

"Question everything. Especially Landfish."
-Matt

Here's a little piece of a story from the Background part of the Athalon Design Doc.The story isn't finished yet, nor is the doc.Note that the story is not as good as the others in this thread because it wasn't written with the purpose of being published, except maybe on the Athalon site at some point.

The old tavern in the Danlath harbour was always crowded at night.And especially on Fireday nights like this one, when all the old sailors gathered at the largest table and told stories of far-away places.On these nights dozens of people from all over town would come to the old smelly house by the sea known as the The Sailor’s Haven.They wanted to hear about the splendors of Rondelar, the icy colds of Gldak and, of course, the stories about the famous Sea of Dreams.
Most people doubted that all the stories were real, of course.Some were too strange to believe – stories of mermaids, whirlpools that lead to another world or of people who had wings and flew were amongst the stories usually attributed to too much rum or a wild imagination .
But no-one ever doubted Captain Mandwick’s stories.Captain Mandwick, the famous Captain Mandwick was a great hero.Forty years ago he had defeated the pirates that plagued the area all on his own, by setting fire to their hideout while they were away.He had been awarded by the Council of Life with a large ship called Lady of the Seas, and had had many famous adventures, until, one day in Middlesummer it had sunk mysteriously, him being the only survivor.He had never told anyone what had happened.
All that was going through their heads as they listened to old Mandwick talk.His white beard and soft, deep -even mysterious- brown eyes made him very impressive, and no one dared to speak.
Mandwick coughed.He looked around him at the people who were staring at him, waiting for a story.He smiled.
“My friends, I see you want a story.Hmmm ...a story.I have told you the story of Dragonsland, and the story of how I met my dead grandfather, and about the mysterious lights in the ocean.I have told many stories.In fact, I have told every story I know except one.”
He looked around again.No-one said a word.He sighed, and resumed.
“It is a story that I had decided to keep in me forever, in fear of being called a madman.But now I am old, and I am not afraid anymore.In my dreams I speak with my ancestors.They are calling me to another world, for new adventures.My days here are over, and I shall not come again as others do.But before I go, I want to tell you the story of how the Lady of the Seas sank, of how I survived and found myself in a strange place.A place called Athalon.”
There were several gasps in the audience.Athalon ? The magic island of legend.The place the mages believed the source of their power.The mysterious isle that had disappeared with its civilization thousands of years ago…
Mandwick noticed that even the town druid was there.
“It was a rainy day in Middlesummer twenty years ago.We were sailing to Danlath after a very long journey through the Islands of Khun.We knew that sailing through the Sea of Dreams could be dangerous, but we were confident we would make it.I suppose we were too proud to admit fear.Because we were afraid.As I stood on the deck that day, the wind tugging at my beard and filling the sails, the waves pounding against the ship, I was afraid.I looked at my men and I could see the same fear.They worked with clenched teeth and never said a word.There was no laughing, no bickering, nothing as it used to be – absolute silence.
Silence.Not only the sailors were silent.Everything was – the waves seemed to make no noise, the wind seemed different.The fear I felt was not the physical fear I’d felt when I first saw the dragons in Dragonsland – no, it was the kind of fear I had felt when I met the spirit of my ancestor.Fear of the unknown.
Hours passed, and we were still in the Sea of Dreams.Normally, we would have crossed that distance in a short time.But, as you know, the Sea of Dreams is not a normal place.It is a place where nothing is as we know it.
I had been feeling a certain tension building up.Something was going to happen.I knew it.Something we could not expect.The sky was a dark grey now, the clouds covering everything.Then I noticed the fog.It seemed to be all around us, except on the ship itself.Many men were muttering about the curse of the sea and similar things.Agdor, a sailor from Pariki, suddenly shouted “what the heck is that ?”
I turned towards him.He was pointing at something in the mist.At first, I did not see anything.I thought that maybe he was seeing a hallucination caused by either his fear or the Sea of Dreams.But then I noticed something green in the fog.It seemed to be some kind of light…
Then I saw it again.It was green lightning ! The men were shouting now.Green lightning was all around the ship, and it was coming closer every second.Agdor drew his sword.I quickly caught his hand and shouted
“No ! We don’t know what this is.Let’s not attack it yet !”
“Let me go, you fool !” he screamed
“No !”
He slashed at me with his sword, and I barely managed to avoid the blow.When I got up I saw Agdor slahing at the green lightning that had almost reached the ship.His weapon suddenly glowed with a green light and he was thrown backwards against the mast.He wa still alive, although his mind wasn’t very clear.He tried getting up.I started running towards him, and so did several other sailors.The other were still staring at him, awed by what had just happened.
The one moment Agdor was getting up, his mates helping him, and the next he was gone and a strange green whirlpool had appeared in his place.Ghillien, a Cyrgonian sailor, was closest to the maelstrom.He screamed as he suddenly started being drawn in by an invisible force.Other sailors began moving too, but they had no chance.The whirlpool was becoming larger and larger.I felt it’s pull on me aswell.I panicked.I knew there was only one thing I could do to save myself.I jumped into the water- or at least I tried to.As I fell, I saw green lightning flash by me, but my feet never touched the water. I just kept falling into the fog.I fell and fell – until suddenly everything went black.

I did not know how much time had passed.It could have been minutes – or centuries.
I was standing at a beach.A beach where ? I was looking at the sea.The sky was grey and a cold wind was blowing.I had the feeling something was wrong.Then I understood.There were no waves ! How could that be ? Well, I conceded to myself, the fact that was actually standing and that there were no signs of my ship or crew was even stranger.Then a strange thought came to my mind ? What if this was a dream ? Many people saw dreams on the sea of dreams, and they never knew they were dreams until later when someone told them.If this was one….I quickly shook the thought off.Let’s deal with reality first, I thought.I looked around, and saw that the beach was very small.To my right and to my left there were some huge rocks, and there was a path that led up into a forest.Obviously I didn’t have all that many choices, so I went up the path, and got to the forest.The ground here was a bit muddy, and the trees seemed to be wet.It had propably rained.I looked at the trees again.I had never seen such trees.Their leaves were as large as my hand and were shaped like hearts.They felt very soft.




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Edited by - runemaster on September 1, 2000 5:42:17 PM

thanks ! There is more to the story, actually.I''ll post it soon.As for the elf story - I''ll edit this post in a while and explain what I liked.

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take a look at the suggestions, comments & ideas forum

Runemaster
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Here''s another little bit of the story - very unpolished though.I had a terrible headache when I wrote this.

The forest was very dense.The only thing I could do was follow the winding path into the forest.There was something strange about that path.It certainly wasn’t a path made by animals, but it didn’t seem artificial.It was more like…well, as if the trees had avoided growing there.I looked at the trees again and decided to move on.
The path seemed to follow a totally irrational pattern.It curved left, right, left and seemed to be endless.After half an hour or so I decided to go back.This place was strange.When I turned around I saw something that left me speechless.There was an opening in the forest there.But how could that be ? What was this place ? If everything could change like that …what would happen if I turned around now ? What would be behind me ? No, I thought.If I think like that I’ll go mad.”
Mandwick looked at the people in the tavern.The druid was right in front of him now, and listening intently.Everyone was waiting for him to continue.
“Well, I walked to the opening.It was just like the path : there was a large circle on which the trees seemed to be unable to grow.Unable or…afraid.The whole place was overgrown with beautiful green grass, ankle-deep.There seemed to be something in front of me, in the middle of this strange round opening.I walked towards it and kneeled.It was a stone cylinder, five hands wide and two hands high.It was made of a very dark kind of stone and seemed to be slippery.I passed my hands over it and noticed some inscription.I kneeled closer.The inscription was in Daeloc, the ancient language the Druids used for their magics.I had learned a bit of Daeloc on one of my travels.”
Mandwick paused and shivered.
“I’ve seen many things in my life in this world.Some were terrible, others beautiful.I’ve met many powerful creatures.
Yet nothing could be compared with the power, the absoluteness of the two words I read

Sharr Dunn

I protect

It was an ancient druidic Ward of Life.”
“What ?” the druid exclaimed “That…”
It was the first time the people saw the druid at a loss for words.
Mandwick smiled.
“Yes, Druid.I know.It takes at least twelve High Druids to create a Ward.”
“There have only been four High Druids for…for centuries !”
But Mandwick wanted to finish his story.
“I stood up.I wondered what a Ward of Life was doing here.Wards were legendary.In all my travels I had only seen one, in the Council of Life.I shivered.The air seemed to be growing colder.There was a soft breeze, and I felt a storm was coming.The sky was a very dark grey ; the leaves were rustling.
A few minutes later the breeze had turned into a strong wind.I had to find some shelter.Of course I knew that one should not hide under trees during a storm, but I had no choice.
As I walked towards the trees, the storm broke out.From one moment to the next, all hell broke loose.I ran to the trees as fast as I could, but by the time I was there I was dripping wet.The rain was so strong it almost hurt.I had to close my eyes.
From under the tree I looked at the Ward.It was glowing green.And then green lightning tore the sky apart.I was momentarily blinded, but I had the impression that someone was standing there…But when I opened my eyes there was no-one.
Then it happened again, and this time I saw several figures.They were wearing cloaks, like Druids, and they…Suddenly they were gone, and green lightning blinded me.
The storm was becoming more intense now, and the lightning forced me to keep my eyes half-closed.Yet with every new flash I saw the figures standing there in a circle around the ward.Their hands were raised.
Every now and then, I thought I heard ancient, deep voices chanting.At first I thought it came from the figures, but then I realized that the sound seemed to come from hundreds of voices, from somewhere far away in space and time, from a place beyond this world.




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