# CERAMIC D.M. the final judgement is in!



## alsih2o

well, our esteemed defending champ has asked that ceramic d.m. be put off till the 15th, and that is tomorrow.

 we will need 7 entrants and 2 backups. if 2 of the folks who have previously offered to help me judge are free for a week i woudl like them to sign on too

 story or mini adventure
 no peeking at opponent
 no editing
 3 votes and critiques from 3 judges.
 4 pics each round, semifinals will have a bonus pic, finals will have 2 bonus pics.
 48 hours to finish your entry (72 was for the holidays, get over it)

 anyone in?


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## megamania

What is the contest?   I'm not sure I understand?

Rules?
Time?
limitations?


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## alsih2o

i believe there was some nit-mirthcard trashtalking about the first round????


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## Nifft

Ready to judge, if needed.

 -- Nifft


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## alsih2o

mega man, you will be goiven illustrations. your job is to create a miniadventure or short story under the assumtion that the illus would be the illustrations for your piece.

 the pics should play a prominent role in your writing, then you are judged against someone else with the same ingredients


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## Maldur

I ready for judging (as promised)

Sharp your wit, and try becomming the second ever Ceramic DM!!


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## alsih2o

well, that's 2 judges 

 now all we need are contestants


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## megamania

Neat!   What time period are we talking?   I work afternoons and am closing a Morgage in the morning morning (about now but tommorrow).


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## alsih2o

3 rounds, 48 hours each


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## megamania

Not sure what I'm getting into but with that time allotment I should be able to play. 

Put me into the mix!


It's wrrrrriiiiiting time!


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## Speaker

Ooo!  Let me in!

As a long time admirer of the iron DM championships, and a part-time addict/lurker on the ENBoards, I want to put some time into giving something back.

Let me at 'em!

EDIT:  What are the limitations?  Do we need to include all four pictures in our tale/adventure?  Word limit?  Thanks.


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## alsih2o

Speaker said:
			
		

> *
> EDIT:  What are the limitations?  Do we need to include all four pictures in our tale/adventure?  Word limit?  Thanks. *




 the illustrations should be featured prominently enuf in your story that they WOULD  be chosen as illustrations.

 there is no word limit, but the judges all have the attantions span of hyper mayflys 

 a link to the last one to show style and content possibilities- http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=34588&highlight=ceramic


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## Taladas

Sounds interesting. I'm in.


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## Sammael99

Drat, got my judging slot busted by a penguin...


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## Mirth

*NOT EVEN MORE PEOPLE AND LESS TIME SHALL STOP THE MIGHT OF THE ... * 

Ahem. Ready to go people. Now where's NiTessine?!?


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## alsih2o

Sammael99 said:
			
		

> *Drat, got my judging slot busted by a penguin...
> 
> *




 sorry sam, much interest, few slots....write! participate!


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## Sniktch

Sure, I'm game - sign me up, Clay (just let me know when it starts)


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## Nifft

Sammael99 said:
			
		

> *Drat, got my judging slot busted by a penguin...*




Penguins can move very quickly in the right medium 

 -- Nifft


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## Drawmack

I'm in

Just a couple of rules questions

It can be an adventure synopsis or a story correct?

Can we put them on the web in HTML and just post a link, this way adventures could be full fledged adventures? (Not saying I will do this just asking if I could do this.)

Also word count limits?

How many ingredients?

Level of adventure?


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## alsih2o

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *I'm in
> 
> Just a couple of rules questions
> 
> It can be an adventure synopsis or a story correct?
> 
> Can we put them on the web in HTML and just post a link, this way adventures could be full fledged adventures? (Not saying I will do this just asking if I could do this.)
> 
> Also word count limits?
> 
> How many ingredients?
> 
> Level of adventure? *



 adv or story, you can html, but your doom if one of the three judges can't get to it  , no word count limit, but limited attention spans, 4 ingredients, wiht a bonus ingredient in the semi's and 2 bonuses in the final


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## Speaker

*Limbers up his fingers, then does an epic 50 hand-ups* 

Sounding better and better.

*goes back to his warm up routine*


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## Shadoe's Lady

I'm in.  I think I get the gist of the game.

(Did I say that out loud?)


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## astralpwka

Is there room for one more? I'd like to play again.


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## mythago

Let me know if a slot opens.

I'll be over here waiting squamously.


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## alsih2o

astralpwka makes 8, with mythago as an alternate, look for the first ingredients around 9 am cst 

 good luck!


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## NoOneofConsequence

*Me! Me! Me!*

Pick me!

Edit: never mind!

Edit 2: second alternate  Now I just need to use my psychic powers to psyche out two other participants. *zap*


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## alsih2o

and noone as the second alternate


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## Mirth

Can we have a complete rundown of all of the participants please maestro?


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## Mirth

Okay, I'll give it a shot.

Judges
1. alsih2o (Master Judge and Creator of Ceramic DM)
2. Nifft
3. Maldur

Contestants
1. mirthcard (Returning Champeen!)
2. megamania
3. Speaker
4. Taladas
5. Sniktch
6. Drawmack
7. Shadoe's Lady
8. astralpwka

Alternates
1. mythago
2. NoOneofConsequence

Does that look right? Let's get ready to imaginate!!


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## alsih2o

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *Okay, I'll give it a shot.
> 
> *




 well done, pardon my abscence, the wife got home and she is highly distracting in such a good way.

 i will be posting the first ingredients in the morning, nifft and maldur will be emailing their judgements to me and i will post them unedited with mine for each match


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## Maldur

Good luck Everyone!


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## NiTessine

Curse my faulty Internet connection... It kicked the bucket sometime yesterday, and by the time I came home, helpdesk had been closed...


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## alsih2o

man, that is just wrong nit, sorry about that, i know you and mirthcard were excited about squaring off 


 starting in about 20 minutes D.M.'s!!!!


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## alsih2o

ROUND 1-
MIRTHCARD VS. MEGAMANIA 

 PICTURE 1


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## alsih2o

mirthcar vs megamania
 pic 2


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## Mark

Good luck to megamania, Speaker, Taladas, Sniktch, Drawmack, Shadoe's Lady, astralpwka and mirthcard as he defends his well deserved title!


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## alsih2o

mirthcard vs megamania
 pic 3


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## alsih2o

mirthcard vs megamania

 pic 4, 48 hours from the time stamped on this one kiddies!


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## alsih2o

round 1, slot 2 

SPEAKER VS TALADAS 

 PIC 1


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## alsih2o

speaker vs taladas

 pic 2


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## alsih2o

speaker vs taladas

 pic 3


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## Drawmack

I cannot spend all day sitting on the boards but I can start a round whenever. I just ask that I am emailed when my pictures are posted. (tomender@ptd.net).


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## alsih2o

speaker vs taladas

 pic 4, 48 hours from the timestamp to turn it in!


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## astralpwka

I wonder how many people just looked at that above pic and are thinking... "That bird's gonna die!"? 

Sorry... I won't interrupt the posting again..


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## alsih2o

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *I cannot spend all day sitting on the boards but I can start a round whenever. I just ask that I am emailed when my pictures are posted. (tomender@ptd.net). *




 i am about to post your pics, but i will not be emailing people, with 48 hours to work i am sure you can check in.

 email seems unfair, as not everyone makes theirs public.


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## alsih2o

sniktch vs drawmack 

 pic 1


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## alsih2o

sniktch vs drawmack
 pic 2


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## alsih2o

sniktch vs drawmack
pic 3


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## Drawmack

Our story/adventure must include these pictures in integral ways correct?


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## alsih2o

sniktch vs drawmack

 pic 4, 48 hours left!


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## alsih2o

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *Our story/adventure must include these pictures in integral ways correct? *




 precisely, as if an editor would have chosen them as important enuf to illustrate


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## alsih2o

shadoe's lady vs astralpwka 

 pic 1


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## alsih2o

shadoes lady vs astralpwka
 pic 2


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## alsih2o

shadoes lady vs astralpwka
pic 3


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## alsih2o

shadoes lady vs astralpwka

pi4, 48 hours from timestamp to respond kiddies


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## Shadoe's Lady

Oh wow!  Those are great pics!  

Getting to work now.


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## Mirth

Got em, chief. It's GO TIME!!!

p.s. Sorry NiTessine. I was looking forward to our match.


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## Speaker

Got the pictures.  As ever, a lovely little challange you have sent us.  Now that we have the peices, it is time to set the puzzle.

Good luck Taladas!

Cheers all.


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## NiTessine

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *Got em, chief. It's GO TIME!!!
> 
> p.s. Sorry NiTessine. I was looking forward to our match. *




Next time, then... *Sharpens his pen while grinning ferally.*


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## alsih2o

i normally draw from a large collection on hand for the pictures used here, but i went out searching for some new ones anyway....man you folks are gonna be in soooo much trouble in round 2


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## mythago

Go go go!

I didn't see my name, so I'm assuming as alternate I can just nap out unless tragedy strikes.


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## alsih2o

mythago said:
			
		

> *Go go go!
> 
> I didn't see my name, so I'm assuming as alternate I can just nap out unless tragedy strikes.  *




 get a hold of noone of consequence, if he/she wants a alternates match also to keep you folks "limber" we can arrange it


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## megamania

----------------------------wow------------------------------------ 

Okay-  here we go......


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## Sniktch

*Entry*

Well, I've looked it over and I'm happy with what I've done; I don't see any reason to hold off posting any longer...

*****

The Folly of Man

I stood on a dusty lane that passed beneath a crumbling old archway (insert picture 1).  Decaying stone walls, weeds growing from the many cracks in the structure, flanked the sides of the road.  The road had been built in the time before, when the men had ruled the land, and once led to an important city that had long ago crumbled into the earth.  Now the path simply led to the Old One’s house in the trees.  It was a hot summer day, and for a moment I lingered in the shadow of the wall and admired the brilliant blue sky while reveling in the temporary feeling of solitude and peace.

I ambled slowly along, nervously passing beneath the arch, and then continued into the stretch of grassland between the ruin and the forest.  My eyes wandered across the scenery but I did not really see, as my mind was occupied with thoughts of today’s lesson and what it would bring.  Soon the enfolding canopy of the trees closed in overhead and blocked the sunlight, and I moved along more comfortably in the familiar environment. 

At last my teacher’s abode came into view and I quickened my pace, running on all fours for the last several yards.  I entered the tree house quietly and discovered that no one was there, but I could hear noises coming from the garden out back and followed them to their source.  There I found my teacher strolling casually among the trees, idly chewing on a snack of fresh green leaves (insert picture 4).  He did not notice me at first and I did not disturb him, taking a moment to admire the way the sun reflected off his golden fur and the way his muscles rippled with every new step.

“Old One,” I called at last.  “I have come for my lesson.  What will you teach me today?”

The great sloth turned and recognized me, then meandered in my direction.  “Ah yes, welcome, young one.  Let us return to the comfort of the tree house.  Today you will learn about the folly of man.”

I followed him indoors and took a seat while he started to heat some water for bark tea.  Teacher’s home was a snug hollow in the trunk of a great old cypress tree.  It had room for a small firepit, a couple of chairs, a little table, and the reed mats that served as a bed, but little else.  A book had been set on the table and I glanced at the strange symbols on the binding, wondering what was contained within.  Books were very rare, as few had survived the extinction of man, and I had always been fascinated with them.  

My teacher noticed my curiosity and explained, “Ah, yes, that is a book containing drawings by one of man’s greatest thinkers.  You see, I have already taught you much about man.  You have learned of his great advances in science and medicine, his music and art, and his cities and people, but you have one thing left to learn, and that is mankind’s darkest lesson.”

The water started to steam and the Old One carefully filled two cups and added the little bags of bark shavings and honeysuckle.  He carried the cups into the sitting area and placed one before me before continuing.  “The sad truth about man is that for all his great discoveries, his primary concerns were always war and destruction.  Here, look at this and tell me, what do you see?”

Teacher opened the book to a previously marked page and showed it to me (insert picture 3).  I studied it for a moment but did not understand; the pictures seemed harmless enough.  It showed men working to complete a great wall, with scribblings and diagrams off to the side, presumably to give clear instructions on how to properly make the wall.  I turned to teacher and answered hesitantly, “A wall?”

My confusion was clear to him.  “Yes, but not just a wall - a wall designed for war.  You have seen some of the ruins of the previous age, but now you will understand their purpose.  

“In the beginning man was little more than a simple beast and had little understanding of tools and science, but even then he thirsted for conquest and war.  His ambition raised him above other animals that lived at that time and as the years passed he grew more and more clever.  But always he fought wars against his own kind, and the greatest discoveries he made dealt with ways to destroy rather than to create.  Soon men gathered in great armies, their bodies encased with steel to protect their weak flesh, and their hands wielding brutal instruments designed to cut, stab, or crush.”

I tried to imagine this and couldn’t help but smile at the vision (insert picture 2).  It was funny to imagine the great hairless apes covered all in steel, staggering under the weight and aiming clumsy, fumbling swings at other metal-clad men.  The Old One saw my expression and frowned.

“It is no joke, young one.  It may seem funny to you, but you have no inkling of the nature of war.  Men did dark things to each other.  Terrible things.  Then man began to build great walls and huge buildings of stone to keep other men out.  This picture,” he pointed again to the book, “is a testament to man’s folly; that even his greatest thinkers spent most of their time designing new weapons - and new ways to stop those weapons.

“This quest eventually led to man’s demise.  He built better and better walls, then created stronger and more destructive ways to destroy those walls, and his nihilistic quest continued until he destroyed himself in a final apoplectic fit of fire and steel.”

The Old One lifted his cup and sipped at the liquid before concluding his lecture.  “That is why we must always remember from whence we came; why we must respect the natural order at all costs and live in peace and brotherhood with our fellow creatures.  For if we ever forget the lessons that man left for us to uncover, then we will surely follow in his footsteps on the road to doom.”

I nodded soberly, understanding now the folly of man.


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## NoOneofConsequence

*he bobs; he weaves*

Bring on the alternate's match, a little "sidebet" to the main attraction, huh?


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## Maldur

Fast entry there Sniktch!

Lets wait for your opponent and see what your up against.

Pretty strange combinations of pictures again AlSiH2O. Its gonna be a interesting match!


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## alsih2o

for the alternates-

 mythago vs nooneofconsequence
 pic 1


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## alsih2o

mythago vs nooneof (mind if i shorten it like that?)

 pic 2


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## alsih2o

mythago vs nooneof
 pic 3


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## alsih2o

mythago vs nooneof
pic 4
 last pic for the alternates, 48 hours to show your stuff


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## Maldur

AlsiH2O, I like the jug with the octopus. Is it Minoic?


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## alsih2o

Maldur said:
			
		

> *AlsiH2O, I like the jug with the octopus. Is it Minoic? *




yeah, good eye maldur


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## megamania

Let's Rock 'n' Roll- here we go....


The Harp of Watercrafting
Andrew S Farrell
aka Megamania

	“Dregas.   Dregas!” whispered sharply Davos as he peered from the bushes below.  
	“You are…late.  You know what this…can mean Davos.”  said the man in the window above.  His voice is rough and hard.  It seems less than natural.  
	“I am sorry.  The guards took longer to fall asleep than expected.  Throw me the line before we are found and punished further”,  speaks Davos now coming cautiously out of the bushes.
	A large strong basket is tied to the rope.  It quietly descends down to him.  Swiftly, Davos steps into it and with strong arms and back, he is carried rapidly up to the window by Dregas.
	“I had no idea you were that strong my brother,” Davos says with his eyes always looking down and away from Dregas, “perhaps your new condition has it’s merits after all.”
	Adjusting his cowl suddenly, Dregas steps back deeper into the thick dark shadows.  His silence speaks volumes to his brother just as Davos disability to look straight at him does.  “The drug …will wear off soon….come… quickly.  I will show you …the harp.”
	The two brothers move swiftly through the stone hallways.  The hushed moan of the nearby sea just audible (2) as they reach the inside courtyard.  “With this …magical harp, you can ….bypass the wards …surrounding ….the Nether Isle ….and retrieve the key ….to open my mask!”  Davos can not help but to wince at the thought of the mask.  He wishes he had never come to this area of the sea.
	It began 2 weeks ago,  both brothers were hansome and sure of themselves.  They had heard of a treasure worth 2 kings ransoms.  They could not resist it’s temptation.  It called to them like the Siren rumored to guard it.  This was said to be no ordinary siren- oh no.  It would have been much simpilar if it were.  No, this was a Coral Siren.  Their enchanted songs possessed young men and sailors alike.  But instead of leading them to a drowning death, they were enslaved and kept prisoners.  This Coral Siren however was crueler than most.  She cursed her slaves before trapping them.  She then would taunt her prizes relishing their prolonged grief.  Dregas was imprisoned after placing a magical cursed mask on.  This mask reshaped his hansome and vibrant  features into that of a coral siren (4).  The mask could only be removed with a special key.  This key was placed nearby on an island where the siren rested by day.  It was in clear view of his prison (2).  The prison was enchanted.  The wearer of the mask could never leave it . Dregas was forced to imprisonment, always being able to see the island where the key was.  She went so far as to even give away it’s location.  She stored the key in a jar within the pantry.   Davos tried to get the key but was always repulsed by the wards.  Fearing the inability to rescue his brother, he went to him and learned of a magical harp (3) that when strung, allowed a sailing craft to reach the island’s shore.  The harp was kept within the prison.  It was warded against any whom wore the mask.
	Their plan was immediate and straightforward.  Davos would drug the guards, get into the prison, grab the harb and retrieve the key.  Then return and free his brother.  It sounded simple enough.  
	In truth,  the guards were more resilant to the drugs than presumed.  The clouds of the night lifted not allowing the darkness to cover their tracks.  Time was limited and was growing short.
	“There…my brother….the harp of….watercrafting….lays” offered Dregas in a rough voice.  He pointed to an archway that lead into a dimly lit room.  Seeing no traps, Davos crept in.  The Harp of watercrafting (3) was beyond masterwork design.  It was shaped to look like a watercraft with a tall bow.  It was engraved with gold over a dark but rich indigo blue material.  The cords were made of silver and sparkled in it’s own light.  Brightly colored feathers of water fowl were tied to it’s bow.  They fluttered light a sea breeze would calmly move by.   Davos felt offended that such an item of beauty should be used for such malign reasons.
	Quietly and carefully he picked up the harp.  He was careful not to touch the strings.  He did not want it’s magic awakened until he was ready.  He was most careful not to scratch it with his ring of clear thinking.  It was only because of this ring did he escape the coral siren to begin with.
	Careful to not step on it, Davos climbed into the basket and was lowered down by his dear brother.  He watched with apprehension and fear for awakened guards (1)  None were to be found.
	“I return shortly for you my brother, with a most wonderful key in hand, but first, I must visit the island using this marvelous harp.”
	Davos slowly works his small boat towards the island.  The water is calm and the sky clear still.  Dregas can hear the soft enchanted strumming of the harp beginning.  He smiles….smiles a most evil smile of smiles.  
	“Yes dearest….brother….dearest brother with…the enchanted ring….go to her….so that I may be freed….at your…eternal ….expense…..”.

							The End


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## Sniktch

half over into the first round?  

How about 'first round half over' instead?


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## alsih2o

Sniktch said:
			
		

> *half over into the first round?
> 
> How about 'first round half over' instead?  *




 let's see, correcting the judges horrendous english, hmm, the guide says "-4 points on sniktch". yeah, that seems about right.


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## Sniktch

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *let's see, correcting the judges horrendous english, hmm, the guide says "-4 points on sniktch". yeah, that seems about right.
> *




Hey, that's not right!   It was really just a cleverly disguised bump


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## megamania

gotcha!   bada-bump!


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## Drawmack

*Drawmack vs. Skitch Round I*

“Lagiriand”, cooed Elhia’s soft voice. 
“Lagiriand, it is time to get up. If father sees you still in bed he is not going to be pleased.” she stated in a firmer tone.

I slowly open my eyes coming out of my meditation. She is a beautiful sight; I often think I could spend the rest of my days waking up to her elegant face and lovely voice. She has filled my nightly meditations for years now.

“I am done with my meditations now.” I intone as she teasingly stands up and saunters away in her teasing fashion.

I slowly take in my surroundings as Gilreth has taught me to. He always says, even when waking up in familiar surroundings take the time to see if they are indeed familiar. He constantly tests us by placing things into or removing things from our rooms and seeing how long it takes us to notice. He tells us we can never let the ways of the paladin overcome the ways of the elf. While the paladin is a warrior for truth and justice, the elvin ways give us the patience to judge our surroundings fairly and make sure that we are truly acting in a manor Osiris would approve of. As paladins we must be walking examples of Osiris’s teachings.

Eventually I make my way downstairs to the dining hall. Everyone is already there prepared for the morning meal and waiting on me. 

“Are you ready for the journey to Kaor, Lagiriand?” Gilreth queried. 

“As ready as I will ever be. I have been looking forward to competing since I started going three years ago but not that I am ready to compete it is a daunting thought.” I stated in reply.

“Anytime there is a major change in someone’s life they mourn the loss of the old while rejoicing in the birth of the new. It is a strange feeling and one that you will never get used to.”  Gilreth reassured me.

As the day progresses I say farewell to family and friends. A bittersweet feeling engulfs me at the thought of leaving the only home I have ever known. The familiar faces and places of my life, the training fields and the temple’s library that will be just memories now. I know that I will not return here soon.

The evening is spent packing my things and leaving keepsakes with friends, family and fellow-students. The night’s meditations are troubled with anticipation of tomorrow. The night passes slowly eventually giving way to the sun coming up over the Cedririd Mountains.

Leaving the area controlled by Cilirand I look back over my shoulder taking in the entry passage one last time. _ The bricks holding back the dirt are beginning to show their age. A couple have come loose and fallen to the ground, weeds poke out through others. Most of the bricks are chipped or cracked. The archway over the passage governs the height of what is allowed to enter while the sides govern the width. The town is invisible through the passage but you can see the foothills of the Kiladon Mountains off in the distance. The trade route is heavily used giving the area the appearance of being barren, when in fact just out of site lie lush green prairies on the banks of the triune river._ (67065b.jpg)

The trade route to Koar goes east of the Cedririd Mountains. This adds three weeks to the journey and passes the entrances to the abandoned dwarven cities that kobolds, troglodytes and orcs inhabit now. This area is infested with goblinoids who hunt the underdwelers, the caravans bribe the goblinoids but we do not have the means so we venture through the wilderness to the west of the mountains.

Gilreth begins his regular speech for the students making the trip for the first time. He explains the route and some of the beasts we will see along the way. As always he dotes on the tree bears.

“…_The path that we will take puts us within reach of the Tree Bears. These beasts are especially dangerous. Legend has it that they are a cross-bread of bugbears and brown bears. They are very strong and much more intelligent then average bears. Thick brown fur covers their bodies helping them blend into the trees. Their noses protrude from their face like a bears with a flat end like the bugbear. Their eye placement is gotten from the bear, but they are omnivorous and will plan simple ambushes and assaults. It is impossible for us to distinguish their language from the sound of wind rustling through the woods. They attack using their claws to rip at your flesh while biting with their huge mouths. If they get a hold of you they will rend you limb from limb._ (slothjpeg.jpg) Normally they leave us alone unless we stumble into one of their camps. I know the signs to look for so it is very important that you do not stray from the path I walk.” He warns the students.

On the second morning there is a tree bear sitting just off the path munching some leaves. Gilreth informs us that if he is eating leaves that means he just ate meat and will probably let us pass without trouble. The rest of the week long trip to Koar passes uneventfully. 

The events take place in the fields outside of the city. The time of year is planned so that the farmers have harvested their crops and the fields lie feral. _As we arrive the opening ceremonies have begun. I always enjoy watching the clash of the titans. Every man in the town puts on makeshift armor and grabs the nearest stick to use as a “weapon”. Myth holds that these fields were where the titans and the Olympians fought for control of the world. Men were used as pawns in this battle and this is supposed to be a reenactment of that battle. It is more comedic then anything else though. Seeing men in their everyday clothes, some without sleeves or in short pants, wearing cheap tin armor beating on each other with sticks is very amusing. Hundreds of men from near by towns and villages conglomerate on this spot to partake of the festivities. Some carry flags while others simply bash on each other. It would be barbaric except for the geases put on the field that stop any wounds from being inflicted during the opening events. It is mostly just a chaotic clashing of might, though some of the men are in organized battalions who just march around not hitting anyone. I would love to participate in this unfortunately only humans may partake of the clash. _ (fighting1.jpg)

Everyday I participate in one event. If I win the event I progress to the next day. The first contest is jousting; I dominate the field and take first place in this event. Day two is horse riding, my mount Thilmore guides me through the challenges as if they were child’s play. The rest of the week I stay in the top ranks and progress to the final event. _This event is called the siege less wall. Half the participants dress up like goblins and stand on the cat walk behind the wall protecting it from the invaders. The other half attempt to siege the wall. This seems like it would be an easy task except for the incorporation of a gnomish invention called the siege barrier. Under the catwalk there is a pole that is connected to a protruding pole on the other side of the wall. The inner pole is connected to joists which are manipulated by men pulling and pushing on the joists. This causes the outer pole to shake knocking down our ladders. I am not an engineer by any stretch of the imagination but I have drawn a sketch of this mechanism for my journal as I hope to incorporate it into my hold someday, when I have a hold. (siege1.jpg)

I take a prize in this event for being the fifth one over the wall. Gilreth informs me that my time to go out into the world and fight for Osiris has come. After this I stay in town attempting to form a party to adventure with from other winners of the contest.

(To be continued…..)
*End of Entry*

I am attaching the etools .rac file for the new monster introduced in this story. His CR might be a little off, I've set it at three but it might be a 4 or possibly a 5. I have changed the extension to .txt so that it will upload, just change the extension back to .rac and it will open in e-tools.

Now I can read the competition's story/adventure and be assured that I'm not going to make it past the first round._


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## Shadoe's Lady

*here goes nothing...*

Three unlikely heroes

At a country fair a girl dressed in dusty blue robes stood before three men (3).  They laughed and joked, "Come dance with us, lass".  But she declined "I am in no mood for dancing, but I could use the assistance of three such as you."  As she told her tale the color drained from their faces and one by one they recalled they should be elsewhere.  One heard his wife calling; another remembered cows that needed to be brought in from the pasture.  The third at least had the decency not to offer some feeble excuse, but simply ran.  

The young woman sighed and headed for a nearby tent. Inside a young girl stood on a barrel behind a makeshift bar and serving drinks.  As the traveler approached an empty stool at the bar she noticed that the "child" had a woman's features, slightly pointed ears, and straight black hair: all the marks of a halfling.  The traveler took the stool and asked for water.  The barkeep, noting the color of her robe and the medallion showing two crossed sheaves of wheat, offered fruit as well.  The traveler sat in silence, drank water, ate fruit, and watched the performance of a dancer on the other side of the room.  The entire audience was captivated by her performance, the men even more so-possibly because of her exotic looks.  Her hair and skin were darker than that of most of the people the traveler had seen at the fair.

When her dance was over she made her way through the appreciative crowd and approached the bar.  The barkeep handed her a glass and she took a grateful gulp.  “Today is the last day of the fair.  Tomorrow we leave,” said the dancer. The barkeep grinned, “Tomorrow it is.”  She poured herself a glass and raised it, “To adventure.”  “To adventure,” the dancer echoed.  The traveler turned to them.  “If it’s adventure you want then perhaps I have one for you, if you’re more courageous than the men in these parts….”  

“My name is Alara, and I am a priestess of the Goddess.  A little over two weeks ago I was sent from my monastery north of here to carry a message to the monastery east of this village.  Do you know the one I mean?  It is a quiet, peaceful place on top of a hill.  (1) When I arrived there three days ago there were no sisters left alive.  Their corpses were strewn about the place, but oddly nothing was left of them but bare skeletons (2).  There was no sign of fire or pestilence.  And from the looks of the animals, which were left alive, whatever happened only took place within the last few days.  I’m not sure what evil took place there, but with no contacts less than two weeks’ walk from here I could use help finding out. ”  Her listeners appeared surprised at the tale, but not anywhere near as frightened as the men she spoke to earlier.  The bartender introduced herself as Halla and the dancer as Jadiya.  “Your tale unnerves me,” said Halla, “but we really had meant to leave the village in the morning and find adventure and this certainly sounds like an adventure, albeit a more dangerous one than we had in mind.”  Alara questions the skills they bring to the endeavor and finds that Halla, besides tending bar, is good with a sword-the sword in question being almost as long as Halla was tall.  As for Jadiya, well, Jadiya can dance.  

“We may not need to look far for answers or advice,” Halla points out, and suggests that they speak with the village wise woman.  To the wise woman the description Alara gives sounds like the work of a demon.  “Not a very large, or very strong one, as demons go, but it will grow stronger as it feeds on souls.  As it happens, one of my predecessors faced a demon like this and she kept very detailed journals.  It will have a gem in its possession, several in fact, but only one that houses the power allowing it to remain on this plane.  You must break that one, or damage it enough to release its energy.”  “How will we know the right one?” Alara asked.  The wise woman left them for a moment to search for something in another room and brought back what looked like a large tome wrapped in cloth.  It turned out to be a piece of a tablet decorated with musical instruments and notation (4).  “To determine the correct gem, someone must sing or play this melody and the gem will respond by glowing.”  Jadiya volunteers for this duty-it turned out she also sang.  “The tune is short and simple,” the wise woman points out, “but once the demon realizes the purpose of it he will, of course, try to keep it from being completed.  Alara and Halla will have to protect you while you sing.”

With this semblance of a plan in place the three women set out the following morning. During their journey Jadiya practiced the tune in between telling heartening tales of valor to lift their spirits.  Apparently in addition to dancing and singing she was also good at telling stories.  Just after noon on the third day they reached the monastery (1).  Passing it on the road one would have thought it a peaceful place, fitting for the Sisters in service to the Goddess.  The wooden door set in the stone wall surrounding the monastery was closed-as Alara had left it when she left before.  The bones of the dead were still in the courtyard, the halls, and the chapel (2).  Alara had not checked every room in the monastery on her first visit.  Now it was necessary to do so, and quietly, lest they alert the demon.  Room by room they went, through the outbuildings, the chapel, the tower, and finally the basement.  

The demon was in the wine cellar enjoying the monastery's finest vintage and, apparently, gnawing on a bone..."But what's that greenish glow?" Alara whispered.  Jadiya gasped, "He's feeding on their souls!"  "Start the song," Halla said, drawing her sword as quietly as possible, "I'm ready."  Alara already had her staff in hand, Jadiya nocked an arrow in the shortbow she carried, then took a deep breath and started singing.  The demon stopped his gnawing at the first note and growled menacingly.  Several of the skeletons lying at his feet rose and advanced towards the three women standing just inside the entrance to the wine cellar.  What had sounded like a short tune on the road seemed to take Jadiya hours to complete in the heat of battle.  And the skeletons being fended off by Halla and Alara were none the worse for wear, while the would-be adventurers seemed on the verge of collapse.  A gem set in a ring on the finger of the demon began to glow, faintly at first; barely distinguishable from the glow of the soul he fed on. But as the glow grew bright enough to tell them apart, the demon also realized where the glow was coming from.  He paused in his feeding, startled for a moment.  That moment was long enough.  Not long enough for Alara or Halla to break away from their opponents, but long enough for Jadiya to let an arrow fly.

Well, actually two.  The first one missed, but the second one, following closely behind, found its target.  The demon screamed once - well, actually it was more of a startled yelp - and vanished.  The skeletons doing battle with Halla and Alara collapsed.  The three women watched as a green glow rose from each skeleton like steam and dissipated.  “We couldn’t save them, but at least their souls can return to the Goddess,” Alara said.  Then she turned to Jadiya with a puzzled frown.  “How-”  “Ironwood arrow,” Jadiya replied.  Seeing that the puzzlement remained she added, “Well, I know how to shoot a bow too, I just don’t do it as well as I dance.”


----------



## mythago

*I'm not looking at the other entries! I'm not!*

so forgive the typos....

I presume there is no requirement that we use the pictures *in order*?


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## Shadoe's Lady

As I understood it, order was not important.


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## NoOneofConsequence

*A life in jars*

“Jars? Pottery jars? Bloody pottery jars!? Is this your master plan, old fool?”

The pasha was clearly worn thin by the bitter siege, for his patience and insight were usually deeper. Alchemist Ibn Sagui cringed at his master’s shouting, frightened that, in his rage, Pasha Araoud would accidentally kick over some of the jars on the workshop floor. Such a event would be an unmitigated disaster and doubtless resolve the siege all too quickly. Quickly placing himself between the fort’s commander and the dozens of fired clay jars occupying every available space in the workshop.

“Allow me to explain, master,” he pleaded, bowing his head and making pulling motions near his forehead as if tugging a forelock, though his bald and turbaned head offered no such fashion. “The jars will make it possible for you and your guard to escape, I promise.”

“Speak quickly, alchemist. We have less than an hour until dawn,” Pasha Araoud scanned the sky through the workshop’s open doorway. Soon the deadline for the beast’s ultimatum would be upon them and he would have to surrender his people to the besieger’s ‘tender’ mercies.

“A creature born of alchemy, can die by alchemy. For as the Prophet teaches, _As a man lives, so shall he perish!_”

“I do not need a theology lesson, Ibn Sagui.”

“I know, master,” agrees Ibn Sagui, holding up his hand to beg his master’s forbearance. He dipped a long metal spoon into the cauldron simmering on the coals of the workshop’s smaller firepit. The spoon head emerged with a dollop of thick white liquid. The alchemist stepped outside his workshop door onto the rough, chalky stone of the fort’s inner yard. Pouring the liquid onto ground, he returned to the workshop firepit, taking up a burning coal. Already fairly certain of what he was about to witness, Araoud followed to witness the impromptu demonstration. He was nearly knocked from his feet however when Ibn Agui touched coal to unction, by an explosion entirely disproportionate to the amount of substance.  As he retook his feet, Pasha Araoud looked in wonder through the workshop doorway at the now vast seeming collection of jars.

“How much…?” he asked, unable to complete the question.

“Enough that you and your men must be far away when it is lit.”

Nodding his understanding, Araoud said, “We will go now, while the shadows are still deep.”

----

At dawn the frontier fort’s only tower flew a red flag, the signal of complete surrender. The besieging warband let up a great cheer, and the sound drew the warband’s commander from his tent. Equal parts man and animal, the infamous Beast of Al Arouk had the body of slender youth, topped with the bearded head of a billy goat. The Beast’s band of blood thirsty followers had raided the border towns and trade routes for more than a year and now they were about to take their finest prize, Pasha Araoud, cousin to the Sultan himself. Naked to the waist, the Beast strode to the head of his army, watching with pleasure as the tattered red cloth flew from the tower. Seizing a spear, and with a braying shout, he ordered his men to follow him to take their latest possession. 

At the head of his rag tag band of cut throats, the Beast strode towards the rough walls of heavy sandstone which had opposed him for nearly three weeks. Now he was heedless of the possibility of archers on the rampart. Victory was his and he strode forth to claim it.

Entering the tunnel beneath the walls his eyes scanned the murder holes for the barest of moments. A bold or desperate enemy might use this last chance to attempt an ambush. However, the Beast knew his enemies for cowards and, even if he were felled now, his men would rip the defenders to bits, so weak was the fort’s garrison. At the other end of the gate tunnel stood a single guard, and beyond, the drawbridge gate that had remained closed to him until today. As the Beast drew closer, with his best warriors striding to keep up with him, he saw that the waiting figure was not a guard, but a person of indistinguishable gender or identity, dressed in a simple flaxcloth shift and old leather sandals. With a voice that did nothing to reveal the figures gender or identity, the waiting servant said, “My master, Pasha Araoud bids you welcome, oh Beast of Al Arouk.”

Without breaking stride the Beast thrust his spear into the servant’s belly. As the figure crumpled at his feet the Beast spat on the body, some of the spittle tangling in the hair around his mouth and then dribbling into his beard. 

“I’m your master, fool!” he said. Then turning to one of his men, he added, “If this one doesn’t die, bring it into the yard. When we’re done with Araoud, we’ll get some more entertainments with it!”

It pleased the Beast to refer to a living mortal as an “it!” For as long as the Beast of Al Arouk could remember he had been referred to as an it by almost all men. He loved to return the favour. Striding along the short colonnade, past a single stand of olive trees, the Beast walked onto the marshalling yard of the frontier fort, expecting to see the Pasha and his few remaining guardsmen waiting to do homage. Instead the yard was empty. In fact, as he scanned the walls and doorways, he realised that he could see no one at all. 

“Where are they all?” he asked no one in particular.

“Perhaps they are hiding,” offered one of his men with a shrug. The rest of the warband began to gather about the Beast, unsure of what to do next. This did not seem like the victory they had been expecting.

“WELL?!” screamed the Beast at the walls of the fort, as if the stone could give him an answer. “WHERE ARE THEY?!?”

His men shrunk back from him, familiar with his rages and fearful of impending violence. One noticed movement in the dark of one of the doorways, and with trembling hand, he pointed to his discovery. The Beast of Al Arouk pushed several of his men aside and strode with impending violence into the cool of the alchemist’s workshop. Many of the warband crowded into the small space, looking about for enemies. Some knocked over the clay jars, while others crowded around the firepit, curious as to what it was that the alchemist tended in his small iron pot.

“WHO ARE YOU?” screamed the Beast, all semblance of control lost now.

“I am Ibn Sagui,” replied the alchemist, calmly. “Alchemist to Pasha Araoud and the last mortal face you shall ever look upon.”

“What?” demanded the Beast, seizing Ibn Sagui by the collar and lifting him bodily from the ground. “You will die painfully…”

As he was lifted from the ground, Ibn Sagui let the iron poker with which he tended the fire fall hot end first into the nearest clay pot. Before the Beast of Al Arouk could finish his threat the liquid in the jar ignited, the force of its explosion setting off all of its fellows, the hundreds of clay jars. No one within the fort survived.

Both the alchemist Ibn Sagui and the Beast of Al Arouk perished as they had lived; the one serving his master, the other in a wild, all-consuming rage.


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## Shadoe's Lady

Wow!  I've read all the stories posted so far and I think you have all done a terrific job.  Way to go!


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## alsih2o

*Re: I'm not looking at the other entries! I'm not!*



			
				mythago said:
			
		

> *so forgive the typos....
> 
> I presume there is no requirement that we use the pictures *in order*? *




 none. use pictures in any order you wish


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## Maldur

The first duo finished!

Where is the rest?

good stories again!


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## Taladas

Speaker vs. Taladas



My mother (pic #2) was very young when she met a British naval officer. She was enthralled by my father. She married him despite her family disowning her. Even in Hong Kong marriage to a foreigner is difficult. And it is harder when the marriage lasts less than six months. My father Ensign Jon Peters left my mother and sailed away.  I was born three months later. 

Mother worked hard labor for the crime she committed. Laundry, cleaning, gutting fish whatever would pay. She was stooped and shriveled. Her hands slowly becoming arthritic claws. She always was loving to me and doted as she could afford but the bitterness of her life ate at her like maggots in her soul. Self-hatred  and despair rose like the ever present tide and though it might subside like the tide it would rise again. Eventually it took her life. The official reason was pneumonia but she just refused to take care of herself. She wanted it to end.

 I grew up angry and always hungry. Living practically on the streets I was in a gang and stealing before I can remember.  One day I overturned a cart of some vendor and grabbed something or another and ran down the always crowded streets. Rounding a corner at high speed, I ran headlong into Lee Hung. Yeah, Lee Hung the director and star of dozens of wuxia movies, including “Soaring Falcon,  Pointing Staff”. (pic #3)  I had no idea at the time who he was and I tried to take off.  What I remember after that was being on the ground with the wind knocked out of me. 

“Where are you going in such a hurry?”  He said. 

“ I smelled your breath and was headed for fresh air.”  I said still too woozy to get up. 

He laughed and pulled me up.  His grip was firm and unbreakable.  I should know I tried like hell to get away. 

“Would you like some easy money. I have a part for a feisty street kid in this movie.”

It was then that I noticed the camera and equipment and the four guys he called a crew. He was serious he wanted me in a movie. I leapt at the chance. He quickly explained the scene to me. The bad guy would walk out of  the building and I the brilliant street kid would run into him. He would ask me what I thought I was doing and I would make a smart alec reply. Too easy. 

The scene began and the bad guy walked out and I ran into him.  He asked me what I thought I was doing and I made my smart alec remark and then he smacked me across the face sending me to the ground and then walked off. I was stunned and bleeding, his nail had caught me across the face. Before I knew it Hung handed me five pounds.  Looking at the money I decided I liked acting. 

I hounded Hung for weeks after that trying to get into his movies. Eventually he let me on as an assistant  and an occasional bit part.  I learned martial arts, at first from some of the actors and then later at schools. I learned a lot not only about martial arts and stunt work but also about mythology and mysticism.  

I soon became Hung’s  sidekick of choice and eventually a star in my own right.  With real money I decided to find my father and confront him. I hired private detectives to search him out and hunt him down. I so wanted to tell him what he had done to my mother and to me. Finally after months of searching my detectives had an answer. 

My father had died about three months ago. He was dead but that wasn’t going to stop me. You see legends and mythology are the stuff a wuxia pictures.  I knew every legend, every bit of occult lore there is to know.  And there is a ritual to bring the dead back, and an ancient vase, The Vase of the Ever Reaching  Octopus (pic #4) to do it with. I spent a fortune to get it. A fortune I didn’t have. 

I have cast the spell, here at the crypt of my father. He will rise and know what he has done. Death will not be an escape for him. Wait I hear him stirring. He rises.  The door opens and he shambles out. (Pic #1)  His stare is vacant as he stumbles toward me. I begin my rant, shouting obscenities at him.  He reaches out and grabs me.  The smell of death is everywhere. He hangs on me, tearing my flesh. I still scream at him telling of my pain of my mother’s pain. It bites into my shoulder and I realize this is not my father but a soul less monstrosity that I have brought up from hell. My last thoughts are that its breath is horrible and I want to get away.


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## Taladas

Well, now that I have posted I can say whew!!! thank goodness it's done. 

Good luck to Speaker, and to all the other contestents.


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## Mirth

*mirthcard vs. megamania* 

*I Left My Harp In Satan's Disco* 
An nice antipasto for 4-6 characters of levels 1-4
(this scenario will work best if there is at least one female character in the party)

*The Set-Up:*
While traveling along a seaside road, the players come across a man on his knees weeping next to the remains of a broken cart. All of the wheels have been smashed, no horses are to be found and a few tidbits of what must have been the cargo lie scattered about the wreckage. When approached, the man will frantically beg for help while fitfully trying to explain his predicament through intermittent sobs, his voice muffled by his hankerchief.

The man is a merchant named Omnios who was just attacked by a band of satyrs *(Picture #4).* They took off with his money, his cargo of rare spices, dried fruits, nuts, cured meats and fine wine and (worst of all) his two beautiful young daughters, Gynomeo and Plastexia. He tells the heroes that his only concern is for his daughters. 

If they will rescue the girls, then they can have any and all of the gold and goods of his that they can recover from the mischievous fauns. In addition, Omnios promises to later pay the group well from his coffers at home. The only landmark that he can remember being in the vicinity is the ancient Arena of Rhetes *(Picture #2)*, a gaming and betting locale from the olden days that lies a few leagues away near the shore. Omnios suggests that the arena is probably where the satyrs are residing.

*What's really going on:*
Omnios and his two daughters did get ambushed by a group of three satyrs named Nyx, Taureion and Kriazo. And the satyrs are living in the old arena. However, the man the party thinks is Omnios is actually the satyr Taureion wearing a _Hat of Disguise_ in order to lure the party back to the arena. The real Omnios is actually being held captive at the arena with his daughters.

The three satyrs just recently set up home at the Arena of Rhetes, which they love for its overgrown greenery and its closeness to the sea and a minor trade road. Honestly, all they want to do is have one gigantic, ongoing party. To that end, the fauns have kidnapped and charmed a choice few travelers in the last couple of weeks to party hard with them. Besides the merchant and his two daughters, there are four other captives here - a builder named Stias, his wife Hygateia and their two (apparently ineffectual) bodyguards, Allosko and Enkroxos. 

One key item that the satyrs gained from the capture of Stias was the massive _Lyre of Building_ *(Picture #3)* he was transporting for the owners of his current jobsite. The satyrs have put their combined music knowledge into studying the strange instrument and have begun using it to make minor changes to the arena's structure. There are now only a few windows high up towards the tops of the arena's walls, and there is but one door by which to enter the building.

*The Main Event:*
As the party draws close to the Arena of Rhetes, they will just barely begin to hear the sounds of revelry over the sounds of the waves crashing nearby. The Arena is difficult to breach, but if the players try the front door they should have no problem gaining entry. Once inside, a dizzying array of action will take place. 

As the players make their way in, they will be greeted by the sight of an ecstatic celebration taking place on the center grounds. Wine flows freely, grapes, cheese and other foodstuffs are being consumed in abundance, laughter and music fills the air and quite a bit of flesh is exposed for all to see. The music that the party hears as it enters the Arena comes from the Pan Pipes of Nyx and Kriazo and Will Saves will ensue. For those that have not succumbed, Taureion, in his guise as Omnios, will try to charm the party with his pan pipes. 

If any of the party is still not charmed, the satyrs will scatter and make their way to the _Lyre of Building_, while the players to try and make sense of what is happening. Once they get to the instrument, one of them will play a tune and seal off the front door, leaving the high windows as the only means of egress *(Picture #1)* if the players want to try to get out later. 

The fauns will then begin a seige on the minds of the players by running, hiding, taunting and generally "messing with" them. One tactic they will use is to exchange the _Hat of Disguise_ several times as they try to confuse the players by pretending to be one or another guest. This whole process should be really annoying and full of off-the-cuff role-playing nonsense. Make it truly fun and frustrating at the same time.

*The End?:*
The final goal of the players should be to get themselves and the other innocents out of the Arena with little to no bloodshed. The satyrs certainly don't want bloodshed, either. However, they do like the free food, drink, shelter and revelry. 

If the group is plucky, they could try to strike a deal with the satyrs to help them make the Arena into the sort of party place they want it to be. 

Or the players could just try to beat some sense into them (although this certainly isn't encouraged by me through the tone that I've set). 

Regardless, in the end, Omnios will try to repay the players in some fashion, but since he never made the original promises, he can't be bound to them. Stias will try to reward them as well, but his main concern is getting the magical lyre to his employers ASAP.

Finally, what will the players do with the satyrs? They can't just leave them be, because they will just start doing the same thing over again and again. But killing them just seems wrong. Hmmm....


----------



## Mirth

It's quarter til four in the morning here. I'm going to bed. 

Good luck megamania and everyone else.


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## Maldur

Another duo finished, 2 down 2 to go (and the reserves)

Great stories all!


----------



## mythago

*mythago vs nooneofconsequence*

Expedition to the Plane of Jars
A D&D Adventure for 3-5 Low Level PCs

Introduction

Everyone in town knows Rahimas. He is respected for his piety and praised for his generosity; he has a known tendency to become absent-minded and lose the IOUs of the poor who cannot even afford his most meager, lopsided water jugs. For all this, he is shy and modest. He is also an excellent potter. If asked, the townspeople will scratch their heads and admit no, he doesn't have family here, and he's not from town originally; a lot of soldiers settle here when they retire, so it's possible he came from the King's old guard. But no one knows. Every so often he'll leave town with a wagon full of pots to sell in the big city. Everyone worries that he'll be set upon by highwaymen, but he just smiles and says Heironeous will watch over him. And, it seems, Heironeous does.

Someone in the big city owes Rahimas a favor, though. What it is, the party never finds out. But they are sent from their big-city headquarters to this dusty little farm village, in a corner of the kingdom that doesn't even have so much as marauding orcs to provide a little distraction. Their job is to help Rahimas the potter with a vital mission for Heironeous. 

The real story:
Rahimas is a paladin of Heironeous. He is in service to the Shield-at-Ready,  a covert, elite order of knights who are sworn to protect the humble worshippers of their god from evil. Soldiers of the Shield-at-Ready  live modest, humble lives. Evil, they believe, prefers to prey on the weak and undefended. By remaining hidden, these paladins know that sooner or later, evil will swagger out from under its rock, confident that none of its intended victims will be able to defend themselves. And when it does, the Shield-at-Hand will surprise and kill it.

The plot: 
When a particularly devoted paladin of Heironeous is dying, a high-level priest may attempt to cast a spell called Preserve Holy Essence. A variation of Magic Jar, this spell requires the target's cooperation and a successful Will save. If it works, the soul of the target is preserved in the specially prepared jar. This is done because any number of evil outsiders and extraplanar beings would love to snack on the soul of one of Heironeous's deceased followers. To make sure they reach their god's home plane safely, periodically a war party of Heironeous's mightiest living servants will physically transport the jars via Plane Shift to the gates of heaven. For safety the jars are stored in a small, secure demiplane. The number of people who have rightful access to this demiplane is, for obvious reasons, limited.

Recently the Six Points of Woe, a group of Hextor's servants, managed to get a Trojan horse into the demiplane. Instead of a pious worshipper of Heironeous, this jar contains a baatezu. (Getting the jar into the demiplane was a lot easier than getting the baatezu into the jar, if you were wondering.) The Six Points have figured out that some guy named Rahimas is one of the guardians of the demiplane. They are waiting not far from town 
to strike. Their plan: wait until Rahimas opens the planar gate to get the jar, strike him down, and then waltz in to collect all the jars. Won't Hextor be pleased!

Rahimas, however, did not get into the Shield-at-Hand by being stupid. He received word that the PCs are coming to help, and that he should expect the Six Points of Woe to make an attack on the demiplane. His plan is to open the gate, and defend it when he is attacked. The PCs' job: get into the demiplane, find the damn jar that isn't supposed to be in there, and get out. The demiplane has one entrance, which can only be opened by a Planar Gate, and one exit that anyone in the demiplane can just walk through.

If the PCs agree to help, that is exactly what will happen. Spend some time going on about how the townsfolk treat them with a mixture of awe, suspicion and stark terror. Rahimas will stay away from them in public. When night falls, the entire group will sneak out to a yurt that Rahimas has hidden out in the woods near the village's sheep fields. There, he will use a holy item to open the gate to the demiplane and, soon after, the Six Points of Woe will attack. Expecting a feeble old priest, the Six Points will be quite surprised to see Rahimas throw off his robes to reveal shining mail and a big, sharp, pointy longsword that resonates with the joy of smiting down evil. 

Rahimas will order the PCs into the gate. He can take the Six Points goons, but he needs the PCs to get in and get that jar. If they hesitate, he will be quick to encourage them. At swordpoint if need be.

The Demiplane of Jars
If the PCs were expecting Elysian fields, they will be disappointed. The demiplane looks like an enormous storage cellar, filled with rather ordinary-looking clay jars. There are a few hundred jars here, not all of them occupied. The PCs should be able to find the Trojan jar without too much trouble; Detect Evil works, as does simply examining the jars. This is tedious, but the baatezu jar is of extremely poor workmanship and stands out (a Spot check at DC 30 will find it).
The way out of the demiplane is through the only set of doors in the entire room. 

Unfortunately for the PCs, what Rahimas didn't know is that the Six Points of Woe actually sent *two* jars into the demiplane, just to be on the safe side and all. Because they can't throw clay to save their lives, one of the jars broke in transit. The second devil, a Polymorphed erinyes, is waiting for them at the exit gate. Its goal is to pretend to be a humble priestess of Heironeous, keeping an eye on the jars from within the demiplane itself. It is bound to wait for the Six Points, but there was nothing in its orders that said it shouldn't lull the PCs into a false sense of security, then take them apart. Certainly a little mortal-crunching would help to pass the time.

Resolving the Adventure
With luck, the PCs will defeat the erinyes, get the baatezu jar, and get out without smashing any of the jars that are supposed to stay intact. Passing through the gate, they will reappear in the exact spot from which they vanished, to find a content Rahimas (modest robes and deceptive exterior again in place) surrounded by the corpses of several formerly overconfident worshippers of Hextor.

He will thank the PCs for their generous aid, take the jar, and make it disappear into a fold of his robe. He will provide them with a sealed letter to return to their patron in the big city, commending them for their bravery. There should be a decent reward, but it's going to take an even more tedious journey back home to get it.

Adjustments for your campaign:
Any small, prosperous village within a few days of a big city will suffice for the town. Rahimas can be of whatever level you like, but from the party's perspective he should be a righteous kicker of the butt of evil. For Heironeous, substitute whatever noble, paladinly Lawful Good deity is operant in your campaign. The party can be sent to help Rahimas in whatever manner works for them: getting paid to do so, being told there is great adventure waiting for them, owing a priest of Heironeous a favor, and so on. The reward should of course be balanced, but be generous.


----------



## mythago

(Edited to put in the names of the contestants.)


----------



## astralpwka

*Aria*

Alanador arrived in Parize under the cover of night, and thus the mercenaries hired to enforce the quarantine never saw him. Not that Alanador made it a point to sneak in, it didn’t prove anything, but like life, it was just another fun test of his skills. Soon elvish eyesight had led him to the miserable excuse for an inn where he now played his lute for an unappreciative audience.

Audience, he chuckled dryly, looking around the inn. Three of the Man race sat at a table nursing their drinks. If they had said two words to each other all night, the elf hadn’t seen it. The bartender too seemed a bit occupied with his focused rumination, a dry rag resting beneath his hand. The serving wench, Alanador decided, must be the cook too; she hadn’t come out of the back room since he arrived. 

The last note fell quiet from his instrument. No applause. Maybe with the new day, there’d be a new audience. Sighing, he let a hand drift to his belt pouch. Though light, he could feel the handful of silver shift. Might as well pay for the room, he thought, I’m not pulling in a crowd tonight.

He hopped down from his makeshift stage (two tables pushed together), flipped the two silvers to the innkeeper (who looked up from the counter with a start), and made his way to his room. He slipped through the doorway, making an entrance for nobody but himself, cloak fluttering from his arm with a flourish to catch the single chair. He sighed heavily, this town might as well be dead.

“I caught your performance.” The feminine voice caught him off guard, as his vision rapidly adjusted to the dark. A cloaked figure stood next to the window, to the side, preventing herself from being silhouetted against the starlit sky.

Alanador smiled. Finally some appreciation! He stepped forward, bowing grandly, arms sweeping out. “My lady, I don’t believe I saw you in the common room tonight, nevertheless, I am flattered by your company.”

The woman reached into her cloak. Still bowing, Alanador watched her carefully, and rose up smoothly as she pulled out a scroll. The daggers in Alanador’s hands disappeared as quickly up his sleeves as he had flashed them out. Palmed, she wouldn’t have even noticed. “I would like for you to perform for me and some guests tomorrow,” she extended the scroll to him.

“Invitation?” he mused, opening the scroll. *(picture #4)*.

“Sheet music,” she replied, “An aria. I’d like for you to perform it tomorrow night at Lord Arrin’s Castle. All of the nearby nobility are there. I’ll see you there, I know.” 

The elf dropped the scroll onto the side table next to the bed, and followed her to the door, flashing his most charming smile. “My lady, if it pleases you I have composed an ode to you. Might I delay your departure, for but one ode? All I lack is a name.”

“Tomorrow night,” she replied firmly, and she exited through the door.

Alanador sighed and picked up the scroll. He unrolled it, studying the music. He read the title out loud to himself, “Pestilence: An Aria”. 

Alanador aroused from his mediation to the cry of “Bring out yer dead! Bring out yer dead!”  There was something about starting a day to those words that hinted strongly of bad things to come, he was sure. Peering through the shutters, there was the wagon, filled with corpses. The corpses were strange, as though the villagers had been keeping them locked in their closets too long, and mummified.  

Soon the elf was out in the sun, making his way across the village. He noticed, with rising foreboding, the strange makeshift fence surrounding the settlement. It had been constructed hastily, and he’d not paid it too much attention when he’d arrived. He strolled easily to the one gateway leading out, and nodded to the three mercenaries blocking his way. *(Picture #3)*. 

Finding himself turned around, he strolled casually away, stepping around the stray mysteriously mummified corpses that now lay about the street. “Going to find me a paladin first thing,” he murmured to himself. *(Picture #2)* As soon as he was out of sight of the three mercenaries, he slipped between two buildings and over the fence, disappearing in a field of neglected wheat.

*(Picture #1)* That night, despite a very encouraging voice in his head telling him to run far away, Alanador found himself let in to Lord Arrin’s castle by the small handholds of the castle’s stone walls. From there, the kitchens allowed easy access to the festivities. The large receiving room brimmed with the lesser nobility from the Man village, aristocrats from the village who hid from the plague within the castle’s walls. Their families seemed lost in an endless holiday, with children rushing between the legs of the servant stepping nimbly through the crowd. 

Alanador struck the first note of the aria upon his lute. A score of heads fell silent and turned to face him. Whispers flew amongst the crowd, inquiring who had invited the elf. Through the crowd he spotted his patron, and nodded. She nodded back, letting her cloak slip from her shoulders.

His nimble fingers moved on their own, for now he stared. The woman walked through the crowd, it parting easily before her. Her face was shallow, eye sunken deep into their sockets. Her blue lips cracked for a smile of teeth with gums receding, elongating them grossly. Her figure, now revealed from her cloak was that of the corpses that littered Parize. 

The crowd, he realized, did not part. They collapsed as she past, as though a strong breeze blew them over. With each step, two of the Man race fell, until she stood before him, the two of them alone in a room of mummifying corpses. His fingers quickened with the aria, moving of their own accord, sweeping the melody toward its inevitable conclusion.


----------



## Speaker

‘Listen child, for I have a story for you that my own mother has told me many times.  You must hear it so that you can tell your own children, for there is a lesson to this story that serves our family well.  You are a clever one, so I will let you pick out the moral for yourself, and take it to your heart.  It is the tale of our family’s wealth, and a warning.  

‘The year of the opening had come to our people, that time when the earth changed and the outsiders came.  Men awoke to find newborn powers amidst them, and strange things woke in all the places of the world.  In that time, no one knew about magic, portal spells, or of the undead. 

(Insert Geisha picture)

‘You have questioned me many times about the picture on the wall, and of that great jar that rests beneath it.  I told you that the jar was my grandmother’s, and that she is the one in the painting.  You in turn asked me why grandmother was dressed as a geisha woman—one who serves men with conversation, dance and singing—when our family is so rich.  Although I did not then, I will now answer that question.  

‘Hush your unspoken questions for a moment!  Listen carefully, and set the words down in your mind as I have put them in mine.  Listen.

‘Grandmother lived in a village by the sea, a place distant from the rumbles that the opening had begun in our land.  She and many other geisha like her were often called upon to comfort nobles and merchants who rode through on their way up or down the coast.  It was an unpromising job, with little coin to be had and conceited hearts to be dealt with.  What little coin grandmother came by was needed for food and shelter.

‘It was late one night, under the full moon’s light—we had but one moon then, child, and hush—that the stranger came to take service from a geisha.  He paid with strange coin, from a faraway land, and was given to my grandmother.  He was a truly ugly man, his face a terrible mess, as if he had recently come to some great misfortune.  There were terrible whispers about him, and all agreed that he dressed in clothes from far away.  His hair clung lightly to his scalp, and his eyes were milky and dead.

(Insert ‘Zombie’ Picture)

‘Grandmother hid her disgust for his appearance, leading him to the night gardens, where pale white flowers bloomed under the sky, empty but for the unlidded moon above.  They sat one benches opposite one another, and were silent for awhile as each let the cool night air embrace them.  Then the stranger began to speak.

‘“Do you know about greed?” he asked, in a voice hoarse and weak, but in some way compelling.

‘Grandmother replied that she did indeed know greed, thinking of the merchants that came through her village and called upon her to boast about their latest feats of extortion.

‘“I was the greediest man alive.” The stranger proclaimed.  He said the words without inflection, as if stating a fact.  “My parents raised were rich in power and more mundane wealth, letting me acquire whatever I might want.  I lived in a city where greed was a virtue, and businessmen sailed on great ships to trade and prosper.  When I was young, I dreamed of being the greatest merchant to sail the seas.  The wealth of the world would be mine.”

‘Now the stranger hesitated for a moment, as if lost in thought.  Grandmother was silent.  The garden was also silent, as if all the little animals in it had fled when the stranger arrived.  There was no sound until the stranger gave a little cough, then started to speak again.

‘“I was a very poor trader.  I had my own ship as a gift from my parents, and ample opportunities to buy and sell and profit.  Yet, I did not have the patience for marketing.  So I turned to other methods of making money.  I became a pirate, a land raider and ship thief who stole from all for my own gain.  Many of like mind followed me.  We were villains all.”

(insert ‘fight’ picture)

‘Now that the stranger had begun his story, he seemed bent on telling it thoroughly and with great detail.  He told of his first attack on another ship, as he first emptied the innocent merchant’s cargo hold and then set fire to the ship just to watch it burn.  He told of a land raid against an eastern monastery, of how his men had swarmed the hills about the sacred building during the night, then attacked it at daylight with sword and fire.  The monks had defended themselves well with stave and fist, and for their trouble were killed without mercy and the temple emptied of holy artifacts and gold.  He told of many raids, many slaughters, and many depraved attacks against innocents for the sake of plunder and ill-earned gain.  Such was his life.

‘Grandmother was horrified by the tales, as the stranger listed his misdeeds late into the night, each one as worse as those that came before and after.  As the tales continued to mount she fought hard to control her temper, and remain a good listener despite what she heard.  In her mind, she agreed vehemently with the stranger’s claim of greed.

‘Finally, as a glimpse of the sun's light was to be seen far off on the horizon, the stranger came to his last tale.  He and his men had lain off the coast from grandmother’s village, preparing to attack the next day.  They had feasted well on stolen meats, and drunk stored ale long into the night.  Then the sea monster rose from the deeps and attacked the ship.

‘The stranger’s men had stumbled awake from their heaps on the deck, only to find the deck cracking beneath them like a thin shell between thick fingers.  He himself had awaken from drunken stupor just in time to come face to face with the beast that was tearing his ship apart.  A great monster it was, in the form of an octopi but much larger and much stronger.  No sooner had the stranger seen it then the ship was smashed in two, and the sea rose to meet him and his crew.

‘All aboard died, the stranger escaped.  For as he sank deep into the black depths of the ocean, his hand had clasped around a solid object that, to his wonderment, rose rather then sunk with the ship.  He reached the surface to find himself holding onto a jug of some sort, imprinted with the very visage of the monster his ship had fallen prey to.  Not knowing why he remained above the water, the stranger had grasped tight to the jug and floated for many days at sea.  The sun shone down upon him, and the salt lashed against his skin.  Still he floated, until one night he came ashore in a cove not far from the village.

‘Now the stranger spoke directly to my grandmother, his tale finished.  “I have come to take the services of a geisha.  I ask that you tell me whether what I surmise about my condition is correct.  Will you do so?”

‘My grandmother, truly without choice, was forced to agree.

‘“My first question is this.  From my past deeds, would you not agree that I was an evil man, filled with avarice and thoughtless ravenousness?” 

‘Boldly, my grandmother replied that this was so.  He had indeed portrayed himself as such a man.

‘The stranger nodded in acceptance of her judgement, then continued. “My second question is this.  Would the destruction of my ship and a curse of some sort be suitable punishment for my sins?”

‘To this also grandmother agreed.  It could very well be possible that a terrible man like the stranger could find himself cursed for following a depraved life.

‘The stranger nodded once more, then asked one final question “How might I remove any such curse from my person, then?”

‘Grandmother thought for a long moment, then replied that redemption might be possible through good deeds, and acts of mercy rather then acts of pain and desire.  But why, she asked, did the stranger deem himself cursed in such a way?

‘This time the stranger did not nod. Instead he heaved a great sigh, and his breath was like the whisper of a wind that accompanies the setting of the sun.  Without a word, he reached an arm into his weather stained and torn shirt, and produced a rusty dagger that he wasted no time in thrusting into his own flesh, where the heart is found.  Before grandmother could move or even gasp in horror, he pulled the weapon back out to reveal unbroken flesh.

‘“When I reached the shore near your village, a voice spoke to me from the air itself, saying that I was cursed with death in life.  I am to remain blighted until I follow the advice of a wise soul to my redemption.  That person is you, and you have laid upon me my mandate.  Now I have a task to follow until I can die in peace.”

‘With no more words then that, the stranger left the room, new purpose in his stride.  Grandmother was left alone in the night garden.  For a long time, she sat still, thinking about all she had heard and marveling at what she had seen.  Then she rose, went to her quarters and put on clothes suitable for difficult travel.

(insert Minoan ‘Jar’ picture)

‘She reached her destination as the sun reached the lower thresh-hold of the sky kingdom.  This was the beach upon which the stranger had claimed his arrival, washed ashore by the waves, borne by a gift from the sea.  Indeed, grandmother saw that jar upon the sand.  In addition, it was not alone.  All about it was gathered the countless coins and treasures of that strangers ship, washed ashore by the same magic that bore him to earth.

‘This, child, is the treasure of our family, the gift of a man who died and yet continued to live.  Grandmother took the jar and the gold scattered about it, and made our fortune.  If you have been listening carefully, then you know why this tale is ours to remember, and I urge you to keep any lesson you have learned always in your heart.

‘For somewhere, a dead man walks, hoping to bring true wealth to those in need.’


----------



## Speaker

It feels good to be done.  What time is it?  Yikes!

I'll see you all tomorrow.  If I don't get sleep soon, I'll end up looking like a certain zombie picture.

Cheers.


----------



## Maldur

Ahum, Mythago. The rule is no editing!!

Well have to step into the backroom so we can rule on this!

Great stories both!

the reserves are good this time round!


----------



## astralpwka

Woohoo!!! We're all a bunch of last minute night owls (well... some of us...). 

Good luck to the judges... tough talent in the room to choose from, glad I'm only a contestant.


----------



## mythago

The only editing was that I put my name and nooneofconsequence's in the "post subject" line, and I wanted to disclose that I had done that so there would be no confusion. Nothing else was edited, as is plainly obvious from the boo-boos. 

But if this was a Bad Thing, I will accept the judges' decision.


----------



## Speaker

Alright, I admit it.  I'm too wound up to go to sleep.  Writing does that to me.

So instead, I read all the other entries submitted.  I am impressed.  Wow.  You couldn't pay me to take a judge position, 'cause there's no way I'd want to pick and choose.  Good work, everyone.

Now, to think sleepy thoughts...

[EDIT:  Poor grammer.]


----------



## Maldur

Looks liek everyone gave their story.

Now for the hard part: judging!

Keep your fingers crossed!


----------



## alsih2o

mythago said:
			
		

> *(Edited to put in the names of the contestants.) *




o.k. for an alternates round, but if you edit in a real round we would have to bounce you!

 no editing people  if you make an err like mythago feel free to point it out in the post after, after all, we all know who you are facing.

 i have most of my judging done, maldur and nifft have a few more to send me, hopefully result soon people 

 good luck to all, and thanks to al for participating so far


----------



## Mirth

Enough jibber-jabber, judges  Now get to work!

Go judges! Go judges! It's your birthday!


----------



## alsih2o

wow, i am compiling judgements and out of the 2 done we have 2 split decisions!

 woo-hoo! this is gonna be fun


----------



## Sniktch

Hey, no fair - who are the splits???  Don't keep us hanging all day


----------



## mythago

> o.k. for an alternates round, but if you edit in a real round we would have to bounce you!




"I wish to plead incompetence!"

Can't wait to see how it went.


----------



## alsih2o

Sniktch said:
			
		

> *Hey, no fair - who are the splits???  Don't keep us hanging all day    *




 my judging is done, just waiting on maldur and nifft to finish things off, then i will post judgements.


----------



## Mirth

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *
> 
> my judging is done, just waiting on maldur and nifft to finish things off, then i will post judgements.
> 
> 
> *




TEASE!


----------



## Drawmack

I want the judgements posted. I can't believe you're making us all wait until you have all the judgements.


----------



## Sniktch

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *I want the judgements posted. I can't believe you're making us all wait until you have all the judgements. *




I think the problem with our match is its split right now and he's still waiting on Nifft to send him his judgement.  I'm assuming Nifft, since Maldur was on not long ago...

BTW, Good job, Drawmack


----------



## Maldur

Everybody nervous yet?

Wagers on who goes to the next round?


----------



## shadoe

I know Shadoe's Lady is nervous, but I fully expect half of the contestants to go to the next round.


----------



## Drawmack

Sniktch said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I think the problem with our match is its split right now and he's still waiting on Nifft to send him his judgement.  I'm assuming Nifft, since Maldur was on not long ago...
> 
> BTW, Good job, Drawmack  *




I was thinking the same thing. 

Thanks but my money would be on you for this round.


----------



## Maldur

shadoe said:
			
		

> *I know Shadoe's Lady is nervous, but I fully expect half of the contestants to go to the next round.   *




Clever , very clever!!


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

shadoe said:
			
		

> *I know Shadoe's Lady is nervous, but I fully expect half of the contestants to go to the next round.   *




Fiend. "

I feel bad for the judges.  We're all darn good.


----------



## Mirth

You guys could at least post the decisions that aren't split!


----------



## shadoe

But then everyone wouldn't be in suspense anymore. Where is the fun in that??


----------



## astralpwka

Maybe someone is holding a judge hostage to influence the vote, but the judge is holding up under extreme torture!!! Hang in there judge!!!!! Stand by your call!!!!


----------



## Maldur

Im not being tortured!

And the self-gnomification is AlSiH2O's work, and hes a fellow judge

Im fine people, dont worry!


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

astralpwka said:
			
		

> *Maybe someone is holding a judge hostage to influence the vote, but the judge is holding up under extreme torture!!! Hang in there judge!!!!! Stand by your call!!!! *




Other way around.  The judges have decided that torture will make us more creative for the second round, so they won't announce anything until we crack.


----------



## astralpwka

> Other way around. The judges have decided that torture will make us more creative for the second round, so they won't announce anything until we crack.




That explains those darned razor blades and ice picks...


----------



## Sniktch

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *I was thinking the same thing.
> 
> Thanks but my money would be on you for this round. *




Thanks for the compliment, Drawmack, but I'm just as convinced it will be you heading on.  Either way, it was fun, mate, and I think we should both be pleased with our work


----------



## Speaker

Good day, all.

What, no resolution?  Only the tangible supsense of anticipation!  Why, judges, why?!

*Ahem* I wait patiently to hear your judgements, O wise and powerful.  Shine thy light of knowledge down on me, so that I might be fufilled.


----------



## Drawmack

Sniktch said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Thanks for the compliment, Drawmack, but I'm just as convinced it will be you heading on.  Either way, it was fun, mate, and I think we should both be pleased with our work  *




The whole downfall of man thing in yours is great, especially with the tree sloths becoming the next reigning species. That was an ingenious piece of work.

Although I did note that we both went the same way with the sketch, a wall for war.

All in all I think that you worked the images into the story better then I.

However I just wish they would post the results.


----------



## alsih2o

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *
> 
> However I just wish they would post the results. *




 well, nifft has now been to the site without responding to emails to 2 email addresses and and a private emssage, so he has been replaced, you all have my sincere apologies and i promise judgements soon 

 edit-just got this from nifft: > D'oh! NYU/CNS lost network connectivity -- I haven't
> been able to do anything on the Internet during the
> day for two days.

 so he wasn't just blowing us off, hope things are better nifft :0


----------



## Maldur

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *
> 
> well, nifft has now been to the site without responding to emails to 2 email addresses and and a private emssage, so he has been replaced, you all have my sincere apologies and i promise judgements soon  *




Whos are new fellow judge?

btw Ill be back in a few hours!


----------



## Sniktch

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *However I just wish they would post the results. *




I thought you did a real good job putting words to the images, tho - nice descriptions.

You and me both, either way, the anticipation is killing me!  I think clay has a new judge, so hopefully we'll hear something soon.

Best of luck to you


----------



## alsih2o

sniktch vs drawmack- judgement

 ALSIH2O

sniktch:  i am not one to enjoy furries, but i liked this tale. 

 i was a little diturbed at first by the jarring effect of "ambling" and 
"nervous" in the same sentence but this was the only language that really 
grated on me. 
   the use of the first picture wasn't the strongest and i 
don't think the 2nd was given  the best treatment either (it is not the 
literary image i would have chosen to illustrate for the story) but the 
use of the sloth and the handling of the wall really struck me. the sloth 
as a mentor was a surprise twist and it worked very well, throwing off my
 guard and keeping me looking for what other twists the author might throw 
at me.
 as a story i found it entertaining, but the use of two of the pics as 
illustrations in a book in the story was bothersome. (we had this in the 
last competition too.)

 drawmack: Dramack presents us with a slight twist on a familiar tale, the 
young man earning the right ot go forth and fight for his cause.

 the use of language is neither poor nor bold, but i was slightly disturbed by
"I intone as she teasingly stands up and saunters away in her teasing fashion." 
but it was the only truly rough point.

  As for his handling of ingredients- i enjoyed his description of the archway 
and passage mush more than i enjoyed sniktchs. his description of the frequent
use of the area leaving it looking abandoned really struck a chord in me. his
of the stuffed giant sloth was nice, and i would have liked to have seen some
more come of it. his description of the disorganized, geased fightng is what 
really swings it though, i can really see this hapening,and the duality of the 
people in his setting pursuing this activity just as the people in the real 
picture is very entertaining. The siege notes add an interesting touch to the 
main character by lettign us see what he thinks his future path holds, letting 
see his confidence and dreams.

 both authors can be proud, no stinkers here, but i must award the round to 
drawmack.

 MALDUR-

Sniktch, The image of a old and wise sloth, teaching the folly of man is
nice, very nice. 

Drawmack: Nice story but it seems you tried to write a scenario in a story.
Maybe you should have written a scenario (you are allowed to do so in
ceramic). There are some gems in there: troubled meditations or meditations
filled with images of elven maidens. Also the doorway as a gauge of
who/what may or may not enter is very imaginative.

My vote goes to Sniktch. Best of luck in the next round. Drawmack, better
luck next time.

 ARWINK-

Sniktch
An interesting story, that plays with a classic sci-fi concept.  It approaches 
the pictures playfully, but where I felt it was let down was ultimately the 
tone of the piece.  It didn't really grab me straight off, taking on overtones 
of overt preaching on the nature of man than exploring the interaction between 
mans warlike nature and the philosophy of the giant sloth's that come to 
replace us as a species.  All in all, I find myself more intrigued by the idea 
rather than the story.  More focus on the sloths and their world 

Drawmack
Drawmack's entry plunges the reader straight into a situation and leaves them 
chasing along to pick up the clues about what's happening.  It instantly raises 
questions that I wanted answered, which is what carries me into the piece.  Who 
are the characters?  What is their relationship?  For every question the 
opening  answers, there's another to take it's place.  What are the traditions 
of this monk-like elven paladin order?  This game of tag he plays with the 
reader disappears towards the middle of the story, where exposition is handed 
over in large chunks rather than used to tease, but the initial burst of 
interest carries things through.

All in all, it's the strength of Drawmack's opening that gives him the edge in 
this.  Both stories produce things that I'm a total sucker for as a reader 
(interesting and unknown cultures), but Drawmack's story fills me with greater 
eagerness to learn his characters culture, how they fit into it, and what their 
story is.  I give this round to Drawmack


 so, 2 to 1, winner is drawmack, congratulations


----------



## Drawmack

All that I can say is wow, I made it to round two. I honestly wasn't expecting to win round 1. Good game sniktch.


----------



## Sniktch

Congratulations, Drawmack!  Good luck in thje rest of the contest - I'll be waiting in the wings for the next competition.  I knew that going away from the classic genre would be a risk, looks like it didn't pan out this time.

One thing with your evaluation, Clay:



> as a story i found it entertaining, but the use of two of the pics as




I think you misread this.  I used one of the pics as an illustration, as it obviously was.  However, the second picture is actually the scene that is played out in the main character's imagination while listening to the Old One speak.


----------



## alsih2o

megamania vs mirthcard-judgement!

ALSIH2O
 megamania vs mirthcard-

 mirthcard: our current champion, sets his adventuring party off on a combat
light adventure.

 while his adventure seems sound and indeed entertaining for most parties it 
seems that his use of ingredients isn't as strong as it could have been. i 
enjoy the satyrs and their plot, lyre of building is neat but i don't really
feel the weight of the illustrations in the story.

 megamania: gives us a story of brother betraying brother.

 the story is good, but what particularly struck me was the interesting use 
of the ingredients. a magic harp to bypass a siren and the use the use of the real 
life picture of the mask as a mask both entertained me greatly.

 the basket/window pic was what i thought would be tough, and while both contestants
used it, neither used it a way that blew me away. it did seem that it fit well into mega's
story better tho.

 i have to go with megamania on this one. well done on both pieces, but mega takes
my vote

MALDUR- 
 Mega, put in a fast entry, A story with a delightful twist. Great stuff! The
prison didn't really provoke the arena's pictures image though. 

Mirthcard send in an adventure. Lovely filled with happiness and
roleplaying. Nice touch to make it a low/no violence adventure. Only the
first picture didn't really fit, it sounded more of an oversight (but I
might be wrong)

Tough call but I have to go with Mirthcard on this one! Sorry mega, the
satyr's appeal just was stronger. What I did find interesting is that both
choose a Grecian style for their entry.

 ARWINK-
Mirthcard
Mirthcard's entry was a sound adventure, with some great resonance with Greek 
myths.  I'm usually tough on any idea that starts with "as you're traveling 
along, you see something at the side of the road." but I thought this held up 
pretty well under scrutiny.  Maybe it's just the fact I like adventures that 
revolve around role-playing and the fey .  The villains are interesting, and 
it makes good use of a magic item that doesn't see anywhere near enough use as 
an active adventure component.  I wasn't a hundred percent convinced with some 
of the use of pictures 1 and 4, but the concept as a whole more than carry's 
any blurry vision in this respect.

Megamania
One thing I truly appreciated with Megamania's piece was the subtle way it 
handled the ingredients.  They were simply elements of the story rather than 
descriptions of the pictures included as part of the scenery.  What detracted 
slightly from the piece was.well.the relative absence of scenery.  One of the 
cardinal rules of storytelling is Show, don't Tell, but megamania's story 
introduces raw plot elements without ever dwelling on them.  While the piece 
has an interesting plot, and I'd enjoy twisting it into an adventure, it didn't 
really grab my attention at any point.  The way it handled the pictures was 
great, but it was always telling me what was going on and the links between 
them, not showing me events as they unfolded.

Both entries are innovative and creative in the use of their images, and both 
have strong plot ideas.  However, the round goes to Mirthcard due to format 
alone.  Megamania's entry adapted as an adventure would be great, but falls 
short against Mirthcard as a story.

 winner- mirthcard in a 2 to 1 vote


----------



## alsih2o

speaker vs taladas-judgement!

 ALSIH2O-
 taladas: feeds us a story of a man cursed by his own need for revenge.

 taladas has handled 3 of the 4 pictures well in my opinion. i like thr treatment of all but the 
fighting men, it seems to be tacked on, even while it is a fulcrum point in the story. he has woven
a tale of tale of redemption, as has his opponent. i enjoyed the main theme of the story even if it
 it felt a little rushed.

 speaker brings us a story of redemption as well, with a spooky twist

 speakers story handles all the ingredients well, and while it is a little long side i did 
not realize it until my third reading! i liked the flow, the handling of the pictures and the
moral. this is a strong piece, and in my opinion it is a shame taladas had to face
this stiff competition in the first round. strong all the way around.

 i am left proud of both of these contestants, but speaker left me standing on my chair applauding.
 speaker gets my vote.


 Maldur-
 Speaker:
great moral tale! very oriental, and mysterious.

Taladas:
Good start but a very hurried end. It came over as very choatic/throw
together story. Your ideas are nice though. Work some more on them!

winner: Speaker!

ARWINK-
 Taladas
Okay, this was just weird   Taladas piece caught me off guard, given the tone 
of everything I'd read up until this point.  Unfortunately, I thought it needed 
more room to breath and let all the disparate elements included come together 
cohesively.  As it stands, it's just too chaotic, swap genres and styles 
quickly and without warning.  Further, the adage of Show don't Tell comes into 
play here as well.  The scene that stands out the most is the meeting between 
the narrator and Lee Hung because it's given more than a momentary examination 
before shifting to the next plot element.  Unfortunately, it just doesn't need 
this kind of focus as much as other elements of the tale do.  

Speaker
I was immediately grabbed by the voice here.  It's one of those classic, folk-
tale beginnings that really snaps a reader to attention and sets up a strong 
expectation of style.  That this strong voice and very definite style carries 
on through the story gives it a great deal of strength and pays tribute to 
Speaker's ability to imitate folklore.  The use of the pictures is stylish, and 
the story is well crafted and a very strong voice.

Speakers was the stronger of these two.  It came off as more complete that 
Taladas' tale, which needed a bit more space and fleshing out to really come 
into the ideas presented.  Further, Speaker's work echoed the work of Neil 
Gaiman's work in the Worlds End story arc of sandman, which is something of a 
favorite of mine.  I give this round to Speaker.  

 winner- speaker...with our first unanimous vote


----------



## Speaker

I'm glad to hear that I made it to the second round.  Thank you for the kind comments, judges all.

Arwink-  While I've never read Neil Gaiman's work, I'm flattered for the comparison.  Now I will have to pick up a copy!


----------



## Taladas

Congratulations Speaker, you did a great job with your story. 

I would like to thank the judges for giving good honest critiques. Best of luck to the people in the next round.


----------



## mythago

Congrats to the winners so far!


----------



## alsih2o

Taladas said:
			
		

> *
> I would like to thank the judges for giving good honest critiques. Best of luck to the people in the next round. *




 thanks for participating taladas, you are welcome back to the next one, probably late february


----------



## Mirth

Whew! I was holding my breath on that one, especially after I read alsih2o's critique. (Honestly, I couldn't figure out how to work "Jesus in a basket" into my story  ) Maldur, the pictures just screamed GREEK to me. Arwink, I have 20/400 vision, so that might account for some of the bluriness.

Thanks go to megamania for giving me a good run for the money. 

I have to say that I approve of this new 3 judge thing 

Now, when does the next round start?


----------



## alsih2o

astralpwka vs shadoes lady- judgement!

 ALSIH2O
astralpwka: gives us a dose of the plague, ala poe

 astralpwka sends us out into this dark world with an elf. his handling of 
the ingredients never really shines, and i felt some of them could have been
 more central to the story with just a bit more effort. the tone of the story 
is handled well, but i think it would have benefitted from one more rewrite.

 shadoes lady: feeds us a tale of heroines and attitude.

 the ingredients are handled competently, if not shiningly. the 3 ladies coming 
together to end the demons reign has a definite appeal, even if it was only
 because it is nnice to see women be something beside the barwench  the women 
are smart and smart-alec, and this works to nice effect.

 i have to give this one to shadoes lady.

MALDUR-
 astralpwka:
Story with a nasty twist. death plague and music. Funnny that both
contestants use a bard 

Shadoe's Lady:
Funny, heroic and well told. And he can write too, you know!

Really hard choise but : Shadoes lady!

 ARWINK- 

Shadoes's Lady
What at first drags a slightly becomes interesting and quirky with the twist of 
the leading lady telling her story and the men flee.  It's got a nice bit of 
style to it, very atmospheric, but unfortunately sets up a tone that doesn't 
carry through to the rest of the entry.  Things get really, really bogged down 
in the 4th and 5th paragraphs, where things suddenly go dialogue intensive and 
there's a massive and unnecessarily obvious info-dump on the reader.  This is 
also partially a formatting problem - large blocks of dialogue are a pain to 
read, especially when people get into an exchange.  After all the dialogue, 
we're given a lot of plot that seems overly hurried, especially when contrasted 
with the lengthy dialogue blocks and the style of the beginning.  Overall this 
has some good elements and some very stylish use of the ingredients, but just 
needed more focus on the pacing and structure of the story.

Atralpwka
What initially drew me to this piece was the use of an aria as a plot device.  
It's a very cool idea, very elegant, and music is far to underused as a fantasy 
element.  What lets it down is the way the plot unravels.  It's very swift, and 
very uneven.  There is a lot of focus at the beginning on events and the 
description of Alandor's surroundings, but it gradually gives way to swift 
plotting and rapid shifting from scene to scene.  A more paced approach is 
needed in these parts, giving more focus to the plague city, the mercenaries 
and the surroundings leading up to the final confrontation between the bard and 
his patron.  Things just slip by too rapidly as it stands; it jumps through 
events so fast it took a couple of reads to get them straight in my head.

It's hard to pick a winner here.  Both entries have some particularly strong 
elements, and both have some very definite weaknesses in much the same area.  
And while I'm tempted to give Astralpwka a slight edge for the stylistic 
elements of his story that do work, I also feel that Shadoe's Lady piece is 
stronger when it comes to the task of incorporating all of the ingredients.

In the end, it came down to Astralpwwka, but only by the slimmest of margins.

winner- shadoe's lady...by 2 to 1 vote!


----------



## alsih2o

semifinal round-

mirthcard vs. speaker 

 pic 1


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs. speaker

pic 2


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs. speaker

 pic 3


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs. speaker

 pic 4
 48 hours from this post kids, good luck!


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs. speaker

 bonus pic, for extra credit only, not required.


----------



## arwink

Congrats and commiseration to everyone, as applicable.  I was pretty impressed with everything I read, especially given the constraints of the competition.  It's a tough gig, and sometimes it sucks that you have to pick a winner.

Clay, 2 quick questions:

1)  Have I missed anyone?
2)  Do you want me to stick around for more judging, or are you handing the position back to Nifft?


----------



## alsih2o

arwink said:
			
		

> *
> 1)  Have I missed anyone?
> 2)  Do you want me to stick around for more judging, or are you handing the position back to Nifft? *




 1) feel fre to judge the alternates, but we will not be picking a winner there
2) you have come this far, we will stick with you, nifft will get in on things soon enough


----------



## alsih2o

drawmack vs. shadoes lady 

 pic 1


----------



## alsih2o

drawmack vs. shadoes lady

 pic 2


----------



## alsih2o

drawmack vs. shadoes lady

 pic 3


----------



## alsih2o

drawmack vs. shadoes lady

 pic 4 48 hours from this post


----------



## alsih2o

drawmack vs. shadoes lady

 bonus pic (not required, extra credit only)


----------



## Sniktch

Now THOSE are some pictures...

Can't wait to see how this round plays out


----------



## Speaker

Sniktch said:
			
		

> *Now THOSE are some pictures...
> 
> Can't wait to see how this round plays out  *





I second that.

What an amazing collection.  No doubts about it, this is a challenge.


----------



## alsih2o

Sniktch said:
			
		

> *Now THOSE are some pictures...
> 
> Can't wait to see how this round plays out  *





 if all works out the final ropund may actually melt someones head


----------



## Sniktch

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *if all works out the final ropund may actually melt someones head *




check my last post in hivemind - I think you've already succeeded


----------



## Mirth

Speaker said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> I second that.
> 
> What an amazing collection.  No doubts about it, this is a challenge. *




Oy vey!  Good luck there Speaker, I know I'm gonna need some


----------



## mythago

> feel fre to judge the alternates, but we will not be picking a winner there




Comments please! I'm just as relieved not to openly get my butt handed to me by Nooneofconsequence, but feedback is welcomed.


----------



## arwink

mythago said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Comments please! I'm just as relieved not to openly get my butt handed to me by Nooneofconsequence, but feedback is welcomed.  *




umm.  Can I promise forthcoming comments?  I kinda signed on to judge at the tail end of a sleepless night, so I think I've hit the limits of my ability to speak coherantly at present.  I promise to come back after a few hours sleep though


----------



## alsih2o

maldur sent me this:

NoOneofConsequence:
Great story on sacrifice, wonderful told. Do you have more?

mythago:
Little adventure with all the ingredients: secret societies, paladins,
demons, combat, puzzles, and subterfuge. Low level might be a tad low though
(two demons).

 i will have some by tomorrow


----------



## Maldur

THx for stepping in at the last moment arwink.

I thought it really hard to judge, Ill try a more indepth analysis next round.
But I done most of this during work, and I had code to finish

Good luck in the next round everyone!!


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Thank you to the judges for the comments.  I found them very useful.

I enjoyed reading everyone else's submissions-I thought they were all very well done.

Time to get to work on round 2.


----------



## mythago

No rush, arwink.

And paladins and secret societies...well, it's like peanut butter and jelly.


----------



## NoOneofConsequence

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *maldur sent me this:
> 
> NoOneofConsequence:
> Great story on sacrifice, wonderful told. Do you have more?
> 
> *




It's all in here baby! *taps head lightly so that hollow sound is not too loud*

This was a real challenge and great fun actually. I write fanfic during my breaks at work (and often during my work at work ) and I had to take the whole day's writing for this one. 

If you like this then check out my story hour (in sig line *pimp, pimp*). I'm a wannabe fantasy author and gaming writer - any praise is like heroin to me.


----------



## astralpwka

Congrats, Shadoe's Lady.


----------



## megamania

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *Whew! I was holding my breath on that one, especially after I read alsih2o's critique. (Honestly, I couldn't figure out how to work "Jesus in a basket" into my story  ) Maldur, the pictures just screamed GREEK to me. Arwink, I have 20/400 vision, so that might account for some of the bluriness.
> 
> Thanks go to megamania for giving me a good run for the money.
> 
> I have to say that I approve of this new 3 judge thing
> 
> Now, when does the next round start? *




Congrats Mirthcard.  

The basket was the hardest for me also.  I mean-  why a basket?  oh- to carry an awkward heavy fragile thing!  The dress, the style of building, the igneous rock on blue water, the style of decoration of the harp were all mediterran in my mind.  Gargoyle head worked as a new kind of creature.
Well done- well thought out- well scripted


----------



## alsih2o

megamania said:
			
		

> *
> The basket was the hardest for me also.  I mean-  why a basket?  oh- to carry an awkward heavy fragile thing!  The dress, the style of building, the igneous rock on blue water, the style of decoration of the harp were all mediterran in my mind.  Gargoyle head worked as a new kind of creature.
> *




i do TRY to set up patterns and curves with the pictures, half the fun of this for me is seeing the writers reactions and and their read on how well i did. i see a thread through all of them that breaks before reaching the end, sometimes i am successful at this, sometimes i screw up.

 but i have noticed, the louder the groans when i post the pics, the moe interesting the writing 

 thanks to everyone who has come this far, writers, readers, alternates and judges. i am having a ball


----------



## Maldur

We'll see what next round brings


----------



## arwink

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *
> thanks to everyone who has come this far, writers, readers, alternates and judges. i am having a ball *




Ditto.   Who'd have thought being an emergency fill in would be such fun?

Bring on the next round


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

astralpwka said:
			
		

> *Congrats, Shadoe's Lady.  *




Thank you.  I thought it was funny that neither one of us had the three guys (in picture three) doing much of anything.  Poor guys, they got rejected twice.


----------



## alsih2o

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Thank you.  I thought it was funny that neither one of us had the three guys (in picture three) doing much of anything.  Poor guys, they got rejected twice. *




 lol, i had not thought baout it this way, that is very funny 

 over halfway in...will speaker hand mirthcard his first defeat?

 will drawmack or chadoes lady show that they have the mettle (pun intended) to be ceramic d.m.?

 tune in tomorrow for all the visually based fantasy goodness you can handle!


----------



## Drawmack

I'm starting my entry now.


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

*Round 2*

Lucy Brown’s Diary

January…something (not really sure what day it is)

Hours of sleep in the last week: 20ish
Photo shoots: 3
Quantity of Diet Coke it’s taken to keep me awake long enough to write this: lost count after 6

V. exhausted at this point, but must keep up with my writing-posterity and all.  Just looked over photos from last shoot and emailed the OK-especially fond of the one in the white dress. (bonus pic) Carlo has really outdone himself this time.  Good thing I look entirely nondescript without the hair and makeup.  Can’t have myself being recognized while on Big Secret Mission-but the money sure comes in handy when I have to hop a plane in a hurry.  My fellow first-class passengers are snoring away.  I should try to get some sleep before we land in India.

2 days later (still not sure exactly what day it is)

Slightly more rested now.  Found Vijay in his usual dusty corner of the marketplace doing his Holy-Man-meditating thing to impress the tourists.(pic 3) Had to give the Secret Handshake to his assistant and go wait for Vijay in the usual place-fabulous old castle, not livable, not terribly structurally sound, but pretty to look at and good place for Secret Meetings.  Waited almost till sunset, but oh, What a gorgeous view!  The way the sunlight comes in through the windows is absolutely breathtaking.(pic 4) I was almost sorry when he finally did show up.  

It seems he got word, through one of his contacts, that some crackpot modern artist decided it would be terribly creative to summon and hold a Giant Spider as part of one of his pieces.  The story goes that this guy made it big and bought a house out in the Hamptons with access to some underground levels he didn’t know about.  He found them by mistake and while most of the place was filled with dust and worthless junk, there did happen to be one high-level spell book in good condition.  All I have to do is crash a party he’s giving at his house, take his nice new book away, and send one large arachnid back where it came from.  So here I am, on yet another plane-this time headed for the US.

January 19

Crashing the party was not a problem.  Who doesn’t want one more supermodel showing up at their big bash?  It was a great house-vaulted ceilings, stone floors, lots of big rooms where he can display his art.  Sometimes it was hard to tell what was art and what was furniture.  The first thing I noticed when I walked in that night was that hanging right there, in plain sight in the foyer was a nice little framed drawing showing the area as it looked about a hundred years ago AND including the huge network of underground chambers. (pic 2) Hopefully he’s the only person living there who has any idea what’s under this little millionaire’s playground, but I guess we’ll just have to keep an eye on the area.  It’s about time I bought a house.  And that would make it easier to get down there and explore those chambers.  Remove anything that really shouldn’t be there.  Seal up all the chambers properly. But I digress.

So, as I was saying, “Lucia Bruno” (my professional name-my agent’s idea) crashed the party, had a little champagne and caviar, and scoped out the place.  The artist himself was so flattered by my presence that he took me on a very thorough tour of the house.  As promised, his latest work “I Dare You to Sit in This Chair”-featuring an amazingly lifelike giant spider-was on display. (pic 1) No one took him up on it, though a few brave souls did wander over for a closer look. I took the liberty, when I conveniently found myself alone for a moment, of opening a window in one of the upstairs bedrooms for later use (why do things the hard way if you don’t have to).

It was almost dawn before the party broke up and I was able to make use of said window.  The book was sitting on a pedestal in the library, masquerading as yet another piece of modern art.  I wrapped it in a cloth and stuck it in my pack.  Then I had a chat with his unwilling houseguest.  It’s all very well for someone like me to know the secret incantations required to summon a beast from another plane (if the occasion warrants it)-I’ve had the proper training.  But now it was time to show Mr. Smarty Artist that this kind of knowledge is not to be used lightly.

I found him in his bedroom asleep (and, thankfully, alone) and shook his shoulder to wake him up.  He was a bit confused, kept asking who I was and what I was doing in his house, as I led him downstairs to face his latest work of art.  With a few words, I released her and she gracefully climbed down from the wall and delicately made her eight-legged way to stand face to, er, face with her would-be captor.  Then I explained to him that his guest was quite disappointed with her accommodations and demanded either an apology or a free meal (in form of him) and that, as she hadn’t eaten since he brought her here he’d better decide fast.  Have you ever seen a man grovel to a Giant Spider before?  Now there’s a sight I won’t soon forget.  After he passed out I sent her home.  She was v. grateful and asked me to call if I ever needed anything.

Finally!  Mission completed, sleep achieved, and hey- I figured out what day it is!


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Now that that's over and done with I can rest, relax, study for Poli Sci and enjoy my "Girls' Afternoon Out" tomorrow.  After I get a look at Drawmac's entry, of course!


----------



## Drawmack

*Shadoe's Lady*

The Jagerhause Inn, like the rest of town, is a bee hive of activity. Patrons are coming and going with every blink of the eye. From my vantage point across the street it looks like complete chaos. I slowly make my way across the street dodging carriages, wagons, horses and people that pack the town this time of year. 

The inn is standing room only. I manage to make my way to the bar. A stout man with long black hair and three days growth on his face turns to me asking “What’ll it be?” gruffly. 

“I have no money and can offer only my services for a meal and bed.” I state quickly.

“We’ve no need for extra help tonight. From the looks of ye that bard in the corner might be a good start though.” _He points to a young human woman in the corner. I look over and see a young ebony haired maiden. A breeze blows in as the door opens waiving her hair. She is clothed in a dress that looks better fit for a brothel then for adventuring. She is sitting legs crossed, arms sprawled on a ledge and looking directly at me. _(ironstuff10.jpg)

I dig in my belt pouch scraping up enough money for a glass of wine. Osiris’s code permits wine but warns to not partake too generously of the vine. I order a red wine and then begin to make my way towards the maiden, cautiously.

“Would you like a seat, or perhaps something more private would be more to your tastes.” She states in a deep but feminine voice as I step next to her table.

“No offense milady but my code of conduct prohibits marital relations among those not yet married. The inn keep said that I might do good to talk to you as I have no means of paying for my nights stay or the stabling of my mount. So I came to discuss whatever it is that he might know which I do not.” I responded with as much stoutness as I could muster in the presence of such beauty.

“Yes, I recognized the symbol on your breastplate. You are of an order of Osiris if I am not mistaken. I would prefer to discuss business in a more private place though.” She explains standing up and meandering towards the stairs.

I follow her upstairs. Still not trusting her completely but seeing this as my best prospect so far I could not afford to pass without knowing the particulars. She leads me to the back of the building and into one of the large rooms generally afforded only by the aristocracy. Seeing that she had rented a room with four beds I instantly feel more comfortable but remembering my teachings I decide to reserve trust until it has been earned. She takes a seat in a green leather soft chair, offering me another. She begins speaking as I take my seat.

“I am Silica and you are?” She queries.

“My name is Lagiriand of Cilian, Paladin of Osiris.” I state in a formal fashion.

“Well, Lagiriand of Cilian, Paladin of Orisis, do you mind if I call you Lagiriand? Not all of us share the elf’s lifespan you know.” She asks in a playful manor.

“Yes Lagiriand will be fine.” I reply.

“I have accepted a commission which has given me enough money to afford the amenities you see here and have ample left for supplies. The problem is I cannot complete the job alone. I came to the gladiatorial events hoping to assemble a party to help. I saw your performance in the games. I could find you a place in this party very easily.” Then she breaks off as if waiting for a response. 

“I will need some more information on the mission before I can make a decision on your offer.” I reply hesitantly.

“A wealthy eccentric, Velerac, has been building his mansion underground for some time now. Recently the dwarven crafters came out and refused to go back. They discovered a nest of formains. From what they have stated it appears this is a scouting group looking for a suitable place to build a new city. The problem is Velerac believes they will find his mansion a suitable start and move in. He wishes us to eradicate the formains and assure that they will not return.” She trailed off, and looked at me as if expecting a reply.

“That sounds like a noble mission as long as we only kill them if absolutely necessary. Do you have any more information on his mansion or on formains in general? I have not read about them, other then they are a large and advanced form of ant.”

“The mansion is on the outskirts of Edyssa, which lies three days ride south from here. It is easy traveling along the river Essex. The beasts should be at bay due to the exodus of people from Koar but we may run into some hunting in preparation for hibernation right now. _The mansion has a single floor above ground while below the surface are three layers of labyrinthine rooms in various states of completion. He has provided me with a map of his mansion.” She finishes while pushing the map towards me. _(ironstuff7.jpg)

“I am not worried by the beasts of the wild, they are a danger we must accept as part of the adventuring life we have chosen. I will take this commission as long as my pay includes my night’s lodging and stabling of Thilmore.” 

“Yes that will all be provided for along with a nice stipend when the job is completed.”

After the exchange we both go downstairs and continue the hunt for two more party members. By the end of the night we have assembled the entire party. Nestel, a human wizard, joins us as he is in search of some ancient tomes rumored to be in Edyssa and Efermore, a cleric of Athena, joins the party in the hopes of finding people to convert along the way.

I stay up late, as has become my custom, to time my morning prayers with the end of my nightly meditations. I find this an excellent way to awaken in the morning. _Looking around the room I notice that the brilliant morning sun shining through the keyhole shaped window in the alcove on the eastern side of the room. The brickwork gives the alcove the impression of a temple. It is almost as if this was designed with morning prayers in mind. _(windowmagic.jpg) Efermore joins me in the alcove as he partakes of his morning prayers.

Once the rest of the party has awakened Silica goes down and orders a breakfast delivered to the room. When she returns she asks us to sit around the table, so we may have a group meeting before we embark on our quest.

She begins the meeting with; “While I have assembled this party and this commission is mine this party is a democracy. I hold no more weight in decisions then any other member. Additionally each of you is free to leave the party at any time. All moneys found or paid to the group will be split evenly among us. I only ask that we do two things. We should elect a party treasurer and a party leader. The treasurer will keep a tally on all money found or paid so that it may be divided evenly when time permits. The party leader will make decisions when there is a deadlock among the members.”

After nearly an hour of discussion it is decided that I will be the party leader. This decision was made based on both my god and my race. The rest felt that I would be the most able to make a decision based on the facts at hand and the greater good then anyone else. Efermore was elected the party treasurer as we all felt that a cleric would be the least likely to succumb to the temptations of greed and treachery. Efermore and I also decided that we would not attempt to preach to one another about our divergent religious beliefs. However, I get the feeling that at times this will become unavoidable.

I have heard that certain religious orders protest the games, but as Koar prohibits protests during the games I have never seen one, until today. On the way out of town we notice a crowd gathered and decide to join them briefly. In the center is a priest of Bes protesting the games. These priests believe that war brings down the family structure and that war games make people feel more comfortable with war. _This priest had placed a breathing tube into the ground then buried his own head as he knelt on the ground. He is wearing nothing but a loin cloth and kneeling a most uncomfortable position. _(iron1234.jpg) After a minute we move on, for we have a long ride ahead of us.

The trip to Edyssa is uneventful. We notice some fresh tracks but see no beasts along the way. Silica gains entrance to Velerac’s mansion by producing the writ he has signed. We are lead to his private study. _His eccentricity is brought to the forefront by the design of his study. The room is square with an alcove that contains his “throne”. Oil lamps light the room. To the right of the throne is what looks like a safe. Behind the throne is a huge metal sculpture of a spider. The back-lighting on the sculpture makes it appear very ominous. The plaster and stained bean walls have almost no decoration and are not painted. Velerac is dressed in a fine suit and takes his seat on the throne to speak with us. _(ironstuff6.jpg)

“I see that you have assembled a party to help with the threat Silica. We did found a retired adventurer that offered to scout the problem for us. He has returned news that the encampment of formains is a small one consisting of four workers and a warrior, he feels that if the warrior is killed the workers will scatter and this area will be considered unsafe for habitation.” Velerac states.

We all nod in agreement and he opens the safe revealing entrance into the lower levels. On the way down we devise a plan. Silica, Nestel and myself will fight the formains face to face while Efermore stands to the side and casts command on the warrior getting him to roll over onto his back. Once the warrior is in position I will slit his thorax with my rapier causing his death. Amazingly our plan works, the gods must be with us today. 

Velerac is true to his work and pays us handsomely. We make our way to the inn to rest after the travel and battle that worn on us all.

(To be continued…)

----------
end of entry

No I can rest for my game tomorrow, when we all get to make up new characters thanks to a TPK yesterday.


----------



## Drawmack

ooppss, the top should read Shadoe's Lady vs. Drawmack

Also, after reading Shadoe's Lady's story is good luck in round III milady.

(No I am not surrendering, I just believe she will win.)


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Good luck to both of us.

Thanks for posting yours so I can quit checking the boards compulsively   And my condolences on your TPK 

Now everybody else needs to get in gear


----------



## Speaker

*Speaker vs. Mirthcard*

I arrived at the elegant dinner party just as the soiree was entering a fever pitch of noise and excitement.  I allowed my rented spectral horse and carriage fade into magical mist as I took stock of the celebrations.  When I next needed them, the rental service had assured me, I had merely to blow through the silver whistle they provided.  While I am more a fan of personal teleportation as locomotion, the long ride here from the teleport beacon in the city had given me plenty of time to review the actions I was about to take. 

The party was an all day affair, beginning around mid day and scheduled to end at the stroke of midnight.  The estate was as effervescent as the host himself was, and I had plenty of room to wander about looking for a familiar face.  I saw very few, as the crowd was composed primarily of highly placed nobles, with the remainder merchants or adventurers who had bought their way into societies higher echelons.  Not the sort of people I normally associate with, all told.  I was not totally adrift, as soon I found someone to talk with.  Rather, she found me.

“Sam!”  I turned to see a young woman, dressed in a shimmering red mirrorcloak.  “You made it, after all.  I am so pleased.”  She made her way through a group of sellswords and came to my side, taking the opportunity from my hesitation to plant a kiss on my cheek and a flower in my hand.  “I had thought the existence of rock gnomes more likely then the chances that you would turn up here.”

(Insert ‘rock gnome’ picture)

I had to smile at the cliché, if only because my close friends would have made similar pronouncements of shock if they ever found out where I was tonight.  “I would thank you for inviting me, Vanessa, but I still don’t know how you managed to drag me to this puffed up gala.”  I kept my tone light to soften my words, and carefully placed the flower in the top buttonhole of my black suit.

“Oh Sam.  Try to enjoy it.  You might even see a few familiar faces.”  With that, and offering a parting smile, Vanessa faded back in the press of cloaks and finery.  Leaving my alone once more.  Swallowing a string of words that would have sounded unduly harsh in the posh company around me, I instead made my way towards the buffet table.

While I had more then my share of complaints about the party itself, the food was more then welcome and came in a variety of flavours and shapes that caressed my toungue and left me wanting more.  I helped myself to a plateful and after a momment’s examination of my surroundings, took to one of the quieter corners of the garden.

I enjoyed my privacy while it lasted, which was not very long at all.  A young man in glaring white robes and intruded, followed by an older gentleman in similarly pale dress.  Sampling a finger sandwich on from my plate, I had a perfect view as the young gentleman—his head outlined by a fashionable continual light dweamer—flourished and held out a small scroll.  The older man grabbed it and growled a harsh word, then stomped back into the press of partygoers.

(Insert ‘robed man’ picture)

Polishing off my plate, I followed close behind the two, intending to find a drink.  Several waiters wound through the crowd, and off of one I plucked an elegant silver glass filled nearly to the brim with a rich looking red liquid that made itself right at home from the first sip onwards.  So distracted was I in sampling the fluid that I was nearly knocked over by a fat noble barging towards the buffet table.  I stepped backwards to avoid him, and was half-successful in my efforts to remain steady.  My failure became apparent as my haste sent me crashing right back into the guest behind me, nearly spilling my drink all over him.

It was fortunate that I was able to keep my glass steady, because that guest was the young man I had just seen earlier.  While white is supposed to go with anything, a wine stain would have made an already garish outfit that much worse.  “Sorry about that.”

“Watch your steps with more care.” He spat back, and I instantly fantasized running into him again, with my fists leading the way.  Instead, I nodded contritely and would have apologized again if the host had not at that moment called for everyone to enter the main party pavilion.

If the lawn on which we had been standing before had seemed overdone, what we all walked into next was that much worse.  The host’s great-great grandfather, as Vanessa had explained to me before the party, had once funded a hunt for one of the giant turtles of the sea, in exchange for the shell such a hunt would produce.  After defeating the huge beast in a tremendous sea battle, the expedition had floated its carcass back to shore, and scraped the animal’s carapace clean of flesh.  Now it stood in the noble’s yard, a conversation piece that little represented the creature it had once adorned.

(Insert ‘Turtle’ Picture)

	I was tempted to find Vanessa and comment on this, but fortunately, for her she was in the middle of a conversation with the host himself, and I little wanted to hear his opinion on the subject.  Instead I finished the last of my drink, and looked around to find another waiter to prey on.

	Instead, I found my eye focusing on the older gentleman who I had seen take the scroll.  He was in peering around the pavilion in a nervous fashion.  My curiosity aroused, and with little better to do, I made my way towards him.  I was beat by a dark cloaked noble I did not recognized, who led him outwards towards one of the four balconies protruding from the four ends of the turtle shell.

	Night had fallen in the short interim between my confrontation with the first holder of the scroll and the change of party locales to under the pavilion.  It was a full moon, and the white orb in the sky contrasted with the magical lights hanging from the arch that stood firmly astride the two ends of the balcony.  Under the arch was a collection of tables and chairs that were empty for the moment.  Towards this destination the two gentlemen swept, one in white and the other in black.  I followed slowly behind, hoping not to attract their notice.

	(Insert ‘Arch’ picture)

	I need not have worried.  So preoccupied were the two that they took little notice of the attention they had garnered.  They strode to the middle of the arch and fell to animated discussion.  Plucking the Vanessa’s flower from my buttonhole and idly playing with its petals, I attempted to look uninterested as I wandered within hearing distance.

	“Do you have the payment or not?” demanded the man in white, his arms crossed before him.  He sounded flustered and confused a terrible combination.

	“The scroll of the dead first, and then I will give you your gold” the other figure intoned.  The voice was not the kind that would suit a child’s entertainer.  It seemed to slither from the dark figure’s mouth.

	As for my part, I shivered when I heard those words, and that was a mistake.  Perhaps catching the movement from out of the corner of his eye, the black-cloaked man turned towards me.  We recognized one another at nearly the same moment, and as shocked, as I must have looked, his wide-eyed fury was something to see.

	“You!” he said.  “So, you managed to find me.  It is unfortunate that you are too late.  For the Scroll of the Dead will soon by mine.  I count myself blessed, for now I can deal with you as I wanted to the first time we met.”  So saying, he pointed at me and issued a word of power.  I flung myself onto my back as quick as I could, and heard a hiss of sibilant magic dart through the spot I had just occupied.  I heard screams from inside the pavilion as wizards of varying power felt the evil that had just been unleashed this night, but I knew none would reach me in time.

	I lifted my head painfully, and saw the dark man pointing at me, magic gathering on his fingertip.  He smiled crookedly.  “This may hurt a little.  Good bye, Sam.”

	I smiled back, which must have put him off a bit, because he let me live a little longer.  Alternatively, perhaps it was a sadistic choice on his part, to let the worm live knowing what doom awaited it.  But this worm had its own surprise, and now was the time to employ it.  “The party is just getting started.”  So saying, I balled my right fist and crushed the flower I still held.

	The rest of my group had been waiting for that signal.  The next few moments were more then a little chaotic, but I do remember feeling a great sense of relief, as the balcony was suddenly full of a teleporting response unit.  No sooner had they appeared then an antimagic field descended on the black wizard, and the threat to my life was over.  That fast, the situation had reversed.  I helped myself up as the men and women under my command bound the two prisoners and confiscated the scroll.

	“You were right.  The scroll is here, and so is Keelson.” I heard from behind me, and turned to see Vanessa.  “And here I had thought the host was planning to get his grubby hands on it.”  Taking the scroll from Del—one of the TRU members—she unrolled it, then handed it to me.  “I would say the flower beacon worked fairly well, did it not?”

(Insert ‘Leonardo’s skeleton’ picture)

	I looked the manuscript over to confirm that it was indeed the Scroll of the Dead—not a hard task considering that it featured prominently a skeleton and arcane writings—then raised my head to glare at her.  “Very well, although I’m sure you enjoyed watching me parade around with a daisy stuck in my suit.”  I tried as hard as I could to ignore her affirming smile, and turned to Del.  One last order to give before this mess was all cleaned up.  “Send a squad to scour the party for the third suspect.  Just tell them he is a young man with atrocious manners, dressed in white, and,” here I smiled “with a rental’s silver whistle in his left pocket.  I want that back, mind, so don’t let him get away.”  I had planted the object when I had crashed into him, just to make sure I could find him again.  Rental agencies routinely place locating spells on their keys, so even if the arrogant youth had left the gala immediately after I had seen him last, he would not get far.

With that settled, I brought my full attention to bear on the two prisoners, both of whom were now under holding spells.  Although I knew he could not talk back, I smiled grimly at the black wizard.  “Keelson, it has been a long chase, but I’d say I have you now.  You are under arrest for attempting to acquire an artifact of necromancy.”  Nodding to my team members, I motioned for them to teleport the two away.

	The future held reports to write and forms to sign.  Nevertheless, the present was pure bliss.

	I had to admit that the party had turned out just fine.


----------



## Speaker

I would have liked to work on it some more, but here it is.  I blame myself for leaving it so late this time.

I look forward to seeing what Mirthcard produces.  Those were not easy pictures, and I certainly had a tough--but also enjoyable, in a painful fashion--time.  How did you do?

Cheers,
Speaker


----------



## Maldur

Well done so far (just waiting for the last story).

I think judging is hard, writing them must be even harder.

btw I you feel I should comment more let me know. I judge largely on feeling, but if people want more explanation, ill try and accomodate.


----------



## Drawmack

Explanation would be nice. In a game like this we need to write to the judges and the more know about how the judges decide the easier that task becomes.

I must say that I feel the three judges are a good mix. One who scores mostly on picture use, one who scores on style and scores on the feeling of the piece.


----------



## Maldur

Ill try and eleborate then 

Im not that eloquent when writing, but ill give it a try.


----------



## alsih2o

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *Explanation would be nice. In a game like this we need to write to the judges and the more know about how the judges decide the easier that task becomes.
> 
> I must say that I feel the three judges are a good mix. One who scores mostly on picture use, one who scores on style and scores on the feeling of the piece. *




 my experience (from many art competitions) is that normally contestants are told who the judge(s) will be and little else.

 if literary competition is different i would love to hear about it


----------



## arwink

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *
> if literary competition is different i would love to hear about it  *




A good fifty percent of the time, you're lucky if you're told their name.


----------



## Drawmack

that is true, however given the choice of knowing how they judge and not knowing how they judge I will choose knowing any day and that is the choice that was given with the judge's question.


----------



## Mirth

It's been one hell of a 48 hours for me. 

My almost 1 year old son has been through the ringer, which means my wife and I have too  First, one of our cats scratched him on the face before we could stop her, then he was up all night last night with chest congestion so bad we thought we would have to take him to the hospital, and finally this morning he was chewing on a board book and fell on it, cutting the inside of his mouth and bleeding everywhere. Poor guy. I have to say he's quite the trooper though. He and the missus are napping peacefully right now.

All of that makes it hard to concentrate on Ceramic DM  I'm almost finished with my entry, but I thought I would tease everybody first just to keep you all on your toes. Man, I need some sleep. Yawn.

Post is coming forthwith, I promise


----------



## Maldur

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *My almost 1 year old son has been through the ringer
> *




Wish the little fellow well from us!

Hope this wont become a trend


----------



## alsih2o

Drawmack said:
			
		

> *that is true, however given the choice of knowing how they judge and not knowing how they judge I will choose knowing any day and that is the choice that was given with the judge's question. *




 in 3 readings of this section i have missed maldurs post everytime. your post makes much more sense to me now drawmack 

 at least in competition in the ceramics world it seems that a judge is chosen, everyone makes work that they think will speak to that person while maintaining personal style and then the judge comes in and chooses pieces his/her personal style drives dorectly against. this leaves everyone feeling quite schizophrenic and entertains me greatly.

 if anyone wants to see some of the wackiness that happens in ceramic shows witness: http://www.ortonceramic.com/Overview/conebox2000/conebox1.html the orton cone box show. all pieces must fot within 6x3x3 inches, the size of a standard orton cone box. this show is actually quite highly respected, a beauty mark on any potters resume


----------



## Mirth

*mirthcard vs. Speaker* 

*What's Hell to the Devil?* 

The Fiend sat on the balcony *(Pic #4)* of the Punta Chivato Seaside Lounge sipping a gin & tonic with lemon bitters. The moonlight sparkled on the Mexican waters below, but all The Fiend could think about was how much he hated wicker furniture. 

It made him smile, of course. After all, had he not created wicker furniture? What an achievement that was. Combine it with the plastic tables, the mushroom lamp, the fake seashell & concrete arch and the soft orange lighting and you had the very definition of tacky all in one place. Yes. This would do _very_ nicely.

The Fiend had picked the Punta Chivato Seaside Lounge specifically to annoy HIM. Certainly, if HE had a choice, HE would never deign to come to a place that so obviously wallowed in its uncouthness. No no no, HE had to have the best of everything. Well, if HE wanted to have a meeting with The Fiend, then HE would have to deal with where it took place, those were the rules. HE should know, HE made them up and then bound everything to them. Screw HIM.

What in the hell was taking HIM so long? The Fiend caught the irony in his thought and chuckled to himself. Draining his glass, he called out to the waiter, "Uno mas, por favor."  That drink was pretty damn good. Just enough bitterness to make your mouth pucker right up. 

As The Fiend was digging the lemon slice out of the bottom of the glass, the moonlit night suddenly turned to bright daylight for a moment. The sudden flsah of light caused The Fiend to jump and all of the slushy ice and the lemon slice left in his glass spilled onto his lap. Of course, The Fiend knew what that light meant - HE had arrived *(Pic #1)* - and looking up from his wet crotch he confirmed it. Smug bastard.

The meeting didn't go as The Fiend expected at all. Here he thought that he was doing his job, and doing it well. Apparently THE BOSS MAN didn't think so. None of The Fiend's hard work had impressed HIM. It became quickly apparent to The Fiend what that meant - he was being fired.

In his defense, The Fiend trotted out proof of his evil. Wicker - that had to count for something, right? John Tesh ... Yanni ... Kenny G - has the music industry been the same since? What about the Menudo, New Kids on the Block, Backstreet Boys, N'Sync, Ricky Martin cycle of punishment?

One of The Fiend's personal favorites was the giant sea turtle that he had sent out against the crew of the fishing boat _Rhapsody_ in Nova Scotia in 1956 *(Pic #2)*. That little fright tactic had had quite the trickle down effect impacting the fishing industry, monster movies, Greenpeace and more. Can you say Godzilla? How about _The Perfect Storm_ with George Clooney? Want to know how deep the evil goes? Marky Mark was in that movie too, and not only was he a horrible musician, but his brother Donnie was in New Kids on the Block! It's all about layers. Ah the subtle nature of evil, The Fiend intoned. But HE wasn't swayed. None of it was making HIM reconsider.

It was time to pull out the big guns. After slamming back two more gin & tonics with lemon bitters, The Fiend brought forth a faded scroll from his pocket *(Pic #3)*. He told the tale of the boy of wood who was given life somehow  Then The Fiend had snuck the drawing into the boy's dreams and told him what it meant to be a REAL boy. He whispered to the wooden child how good it would feel to have bones and skin, to be able to touch and feel and smell and taste. The boy, who never needed to eat or breath or grow old or die, gave all of that up because of the false hope that The Fiend had instilled in him. The little moron had forsaken eternal youth and immortality for hunger and the deterioration of the flesh. 

Oh, the splendid irony of it all! And the story of this tragedy had been passed down as a lesson on morals for generations. Disney had made it a part of the popular culture, the fools! Plus the fact that they couldn't even begin to comprehend the sexual imagery of a boy made of wood with a nose that grows. It was his first and greatest accomplishment, that one. Surely that would change HIS mind. But alas it did not.

As HE so kindly agreed, Pinnochio had been The Fiend's first and greatest accomplishment. However, everything after that had been a kind of denouement. It was all downhill, if you will. The Fiend wasn't practicing Evil so much as just being annoying. HE couldn't have that. In order for HIM to appear to be the greatest good in the land, he needed to fight the greatest evil. The Fiend wasn't cutting it, plain and simple. There was only one recourse left. 

"No!" screamed The Fiend. "Not that! The cold. The freezing, stony cold. I can't do that for eternity. I am The Eater of Dreams. I am The Killer of Hope. Please you can't do this to me!" But it was too late. The Fiend blinked his eyes and HE was gone. All was snow and stone now.

As The Fiend stared out from stone eyes at the white blanket of frost covering him and the perpetually frozen lawnmower he was doomed to push for eternity, he had only one thought, "Gnomes. Man, that Lucifer sure got that one right. Why didn't I think of Gnomes?" *(Pic #5)*

The End.


----------



## Mirth

My first time with fiction. My fingers are crossed. 

Thanks Maldur for the sentiment. He seems to be okay for the moment.


----------



## Maldur

Ive send in my results. 

Tomorrow Ill do a longer motivation, but Im a bit preoccupied at the moment.

Very nice work from all of you. 
The part where you have to let someone lose is not the best part of judging.


----------



## arwink

Erk.  I've just realised I've got a deadline I have to meet real fast, so it'll be between 18 to 24 hours before I get time to seriously sit down and comment on these properly.  I know what the waiting time for results is like when you're in these, so if it's a problem I'm more than happy for Clay to replace me (especially given I was a ringer in the first place )


----------



## alsih2o

i think at this point everyone can hold their breath for a bit to hear what arwink has to say, yes?


----------



## Maldur

I can


----------



## Speaker

Heheh.  You know what this is doing to us players, yes?

Nevertheless, I am willing to wait.  Even if the anticipation kills me first.  I just have to keep fighting the urge to click that edit button and do away with those pesky post-writing flaws that seem so clear to me now...

It doesn't help that you wrote so well, Mirthcard.  Ever since I read Good Omens -- The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch , I've enjoyed the occasional tale of humanity's tempters.

Well, time to settle down and wait.  Cheers, all.


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Just checking in.

What's a little delay between friends?  That means more time for everyone to be "Potential Ceramic DM Final Round Contestants."


----------



## Drawmack

The waiting is hard but I truly enjoy airwick's critiques so I will hold for him to judge.


----------



## Mirth

Speaker said:
			
		

> *It doesn't help that you wrote so well, Mirthcard.  Ever since I read Good Omens -- The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch , I've enjoyed the occasional tale of humanity's tempters.*




Thanks for the high praise, Speaker. I love Good Omens too. You know that was co-written by Neil Gaiman, don't you? Someone compared your writing to Gaiman's in the last round's criticism and you said that you hadn't read any, so I wasn't sure if you knew that Pratchett & Gaiman had written Good Omens together.

I really enjoyed your story about the mage police, too. Inventive use of spells as instruments of justice in a world of magic. I likes. I likes very much.

Good luck to everyone. Now we wait for the judges...


----------



## Drawmack

Mithcard,
  I liked your story, it was nice to have a lighthearted piece among the entries. It made me laugh which is not a reaction often envoked by the written word with me.


----------



## Speaker

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *
> 
> ...so I wasn't sure if you knew that Pratchett & Gaiman had written Good Omens together.
> *




Now that I think of it, you are right.  Funny that, I never made the connection.

Thanks for your praise.  While I'm not quite happy with the fact that I didn't wait until morning to post--thus giving myself some time to edit out a few blatent mistakes that night cloaked from my eyes--I'll reserve final judgement for when I get the judges' results.

Waiting for that is no easy task .


----------



## Mirth

"The waiting is the hardest part." - Tom Petty


----------



## arwink

Well my deadline is met and I've clocked up a few hours sleep, but my server seems to be going nuts and kicking me offline fiarly regularly.  I'll start judging now, but given the problems with access, it could be a few hours before I get the results forwarded to Clay.

Thanks for your patience, everyone, and take heart - results are on their way


----------



## Mirth

I've been waiting 
for a girl like you 
to come into my life,

I've been waiting 
for someone who 
could make me feel alright

I've been waiting...


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

4 hours (or less) left for me to lurk the boards and then we're off to a Shakira concert and I will be oblivious to everything else.


----------



## Mirth

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *...off to a Shakira concert...*




You know The Fiend from my story? He's responsible for her too.


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *
> 
> You know The Fiend from my story? He's responsible for her too.     *




Now, now, you can lead a man to temptation, but you can't make him give in.


----------



## Speaker

_Leading a man to temptation_ and _make him give in_...  Is there really all that much of a difference?


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Depends on the woman; some of us are better at it than others.


----------



## Mirth

Come On! I'm Dyin Over Here! - Vinny Barbarino


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

I hate waiting - Inigo Montoya


----------



## shadoe

Wow, how many posts are we going to have on this page that are just virtual potty dancing.


----------



## Mirth

Are we going to hear today? It's exhausting to keep checking the boards again and again at work. Harumph.


----------



## alsih2o

waiting on arwinks last 

 plan on results and new pics in the morning


----------



## arwink

I've posted the results to Clay, so they are coming.

I appologise to everyone for the delay.  I've temporarily changed ISP's, so I guarentee there'll be no problems for the next round.


----------



## Drawmack

*waiting*


----------



## Mirth

Me, too.


----------



## alsih2o

ALSIH2O-

 shadoes lady- plants us in a very modern spy tale
  excellent handling of the pictures her for the most part. the window (the hardest pic to handle imo) was
slighted a wee bit, but i loved the handling of the guru with his head buried. the ending seemed a little abrupt,
but matched the mood of the setting. i found the odd mix of modern and fatasy interesting.

 drawmack- gives us a continuation, which springs to mind a way to make the contest even more difficult 
   drawmack handles the mansion underground map exactly as shadoes lady does, 
as a setting without much firther explanation, but i do like his characters reflections on the window.

 for my money, shadoes lady takes this one.

 MALDUR-

 Shadoe's lady:
Dairy style, Modern Arcana setting, very Buckaroo Banzai story. I really liked it! 

Drawmack:
The continued story of the elven Paladin. I liked this story much better than his last story. It seemed more "together", Allthough it had a abrupt ending.

The round is for Shadoe's lady. Better use of the pics, and a more complete story. As drawmack himself said it's just was the stronger story!


 ARWINK-

 Shadoe's Lady
The narrator we're introduced to here is intriguing - a secret agent with 
knowledge of the arcane, but still vain enough to keep note of the number of 
photo-shoots she's done as part of her cover in her dairy.  It takes the very 
Bridgett Jones style and subverts it in subtle ways, something that always 
grabs my attention.  It shows a great deal of control in its voice and 
structure, it has a very nice, almost clipped tone that suits the concept 
well.  Slowing down the pace of events may be worthwhile if Shadoe's Lady looks 
at re-writing or expanding on the concept.  Things, as they stand, are pretty 
crushed together, and a longer approach would allow a greater involvement in 
the superficial nature of Lucy Browns cover, her pleasure in it, and give 
greater impact to the twists to come.  The use of the illustrations is 
interesting, and done with a great deal of subtlety in most cases.  The only 
aspect that truly grated on me was the "hey, I don't know what day it is" 
approach.  It didn't really suit the approach as well as it could- especially 
given the eventually complexity to Lucy and her choice to keep a journal/diary 
(which usually implies at least some awareness of time).

Drawmack
After a great start in the first round, Drawmack's character lost me here.  It 
suffers because it reads less like fiction and more like a log of "the party 
gathers in the bar" introduction to an adventure - not altogether a bad thing 
but the constant trail of intriguing concept and clue that was present in the 
beginning is now soured by instant familiarity.  There's still a great deal of 
strong work here - the characterization and descriptive elements are very nice, 
but I couldn't escape the feeling that the piece has taken a step back from the 
introduction that lead to it.   As the set-up scene for an adventure, this is 
particularly good, but as fiction it gets bogged down on elements that just 
aren't as important to a reader as they are to a player.  In fiction, it's a 
case of less-is-more when bringing characters together and giving them a 
mission.  

This round goes to Shadoe's Lady.  

 unanimous round to shadoes lady.


----------



## alsih2o

ALSIH2O

 speaker- gives us a fantasy special ops unit.
  i was less than completely happy with the treatment of the gnomes carved from salt,
while the language worked and i liked the "turn of phrase" i felt it wasn't exactly what i would have illustrated, 
but that is more than countered by the hilarious handling of the giant turtle. the rbed man and the arch were handled well enuf, and i did enjoy the 
image of the leonardo sketch as a necromancy document.

 mirthcard- gives us a nearly uncatergorable tale (is that a word?)
 from the introduction with the fiend who inveted wicker thru to our fiend being sentenced to being a gnome (playing to a judge?)
i found this story rollicking fun. the turtle is an interesting handle, and the pinochio buit got to me too. this story is far from anythign i expected from a ceramic d.m. contest, but i loved it anyway.

 my vote has to go to mirthcard on this one


 MALDUR-
  Speaker:
A fantasy james bond. nice story! the mix between modern and fantasy is
getting more popular in the ceramic dm contest all the time.

mirthcard:
I just finish my coffe otherwise I would heve been cleaning my monitor. That
is one funny story!
Im a bit disturbed by the using gnomes as the ultimate punishment. But its
very funny!! Well done!

Im a bit stumped because of outside influences, so Ill do a more indepth
analysis of my judging tomorrow.
But the Mirthcard story cheered me up, thx!

My vote goes to Mirthcard

 ARWINK-
 Speaker
To begin with - Yoink!  The Giant Turtle Shell as talking point for some stray 
noble just showed up in a nobleman's courtyard in my campaign.  Nice idea  
Beyond that, Speakers piece is stylistically strong.  The ephemeral nature of 
the party Sam's attending comes through very strongly, as does his feeling of 
being out of place in such surrounds.  Even better, the overall plot of the 
story wasn't immediately obvious.  Speaker avoids many of the usual mistakes of 
this kind of piece, which sets up the main character as far too "Secret Agent" 
from the outset, and the pacing moves forward nicely.  There are a few places 
where the language could be fine-tuned, particularly in the dialogue between 
Sam and his nemesis, but this is a minor quibble in light of the time limit and 
pressures of the contest.

Mirthcard. 
One thing I like about Mirthcard's entry is the overtone of the 
Pratchett/Gaiman collaboration Good Omens, an old favorite of mine.  The tale 
is stylishly told, with a controlled voice that does the story credit, but in 
the end it's its similarity to other tales in this style that is its greatest 
drawback.  It's a sub-genre I end up reading a lot of at work for some reason, 
and although Mirthcard handles it better than most, it does suffer a little in 
my eyes.   The litany of evil/annoyance the Fiend has accomplished was amusing, 
but at the same time was a tad.cheap.  At times it seems as though he's taking 
an easy shot at pop culture, picking on obvious targets (although I agree on 
the evils of wicker).  When it brings up something interesting, such as the 
points where it incorporates the giant turtle, it truly shines and the ending 
is nice (and, I admit,  I have to agree once more with the evils of garden 
gnomes as well).  

Picking between these two stories is particularly tough, probably the hardest 
of all I've come across so far.  On the whole, Mirthcard's is the slightly more 
controlled of the two - it shows a more sparing use of language that gives it a 
slight edge over Speakers tale.  On the other hand, Speakers piece holds more 
surprises for me, it's prose showing a strong control of genre conventions and 
a well-paced and well-detailed plot.  I've swung backwards and forwards a dozen 
times here - both pieces are very strong and their authors should be pleased 
with their work.  In the end though, I end up leaning towards Speakers piece 
because it does the two things that I love in fantasy fiction - it kept me 
entertained and gave me things to steal for my games.

 winner is mirthcard in a split decision.


----------



## Drawmack

Congrat's Shadow's


----------



## Sniktch

Good show, Speaker and Drawmack 

So it all boils down to this...

Will Mirthcard defend his title or will Shadoe's LAdy succeed in dethroning the reigning champ?

C'mon, Clay, get with the pictures - I want to see how this plays out...


----------



## alsih2o

here come the finals... i was struggling to make the pics for this one tuff, and fell back on an old art school project.

 a few cliches thrown in this time, to flounder on or impress with


----------



## alsih2o

ignore


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs. shadoes lady 

 for all the marbles...

 pic 1


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs shadoes lady

 pic 2


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs shadoes lady

 pic 3


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs shadoes lady

 pic 4 (2 bonus pics this round  )


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs shadoes lady

 bonus pic 1


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard vs shadoes lady

 bonus pic 2

 48 hours kiddies, good luck


----------



## Speaker

A good call, judges.  I would have said the same myself.

I was trying for a completely different voice, and I know that I didn't carry it with the right tone.  Furthermore, I didn't set it aside for editing in the morning...  when I think I would have just rewritten most of it!

Even if I had waited, however, Mirthcard wrote well enough that I would have still came up short in several areas...  so perhaps that wasn't all that much of a factor.  We will never know now 

Congrats Mirthcard and Shadoe's Lady.  Enjoy the challange the finals present!

Alsih2o, I hope you will allow me the opportunity to compete in the next round when it begins.  It would be an honour to give the Ceramic DM title another shot.

Cheers,
Speaker


----------



## alsih2o

it was good to have you speaker, you did well.

 i hope to have another one of these going in late feb- early march. hope to se you there


----------



## Sniktch

OK, now I expect at least one of you to work the dung-beetle in!

Good luck, you too


----------



## Maldur

Good luck both  of you!!




he: now it works again  dang computer!


----------



## Mirth

Thanks fellas. 

And thanks to Speaker for a well-played round. Yours was such a strong story in the first round, that I gave up my tried-and-true tactic of only writing scenarios in hopes of netting a win. It worked, but just barely. Whew. Kudos to you, Speaker.

Now for some commentary / exposition:



> _originally posted by alsih2o_*
> mirthcard- gives us a nearly uncatergorable tale (is that a word?) from the introduction with the fiend who inveted wicker thru to our fiend being sentenced to being a gnome (playing to a judge?) i found this story rollicking fun. the turtle is an interesting handle, and the pinochio buit got to me too. this story is far from anythign i expected from a ceramic d.m. contest, but i loved it anyway.
> 
> my vote has to go to mirthcard on this one
> *




Honestly, I wasn't even thinking about playing to you on this one, Mark. I was just trying to figure out how to fit that picture in which seemed to contrast so vividly with the rest of them. As always, I did some research based on the text found at the bottom two of the pics that you posted. The turtle painting info in my story is accurate and can be found here. The setting picture info is also drawn from the internet and can be found here. As for Pinocchio, I was thinking about legendary or mythical figures that wouldn't have skeletons and that just came to me. Truly, I was worried that trying fiction in the contest would kill me, but Speaker's work in the first round was so intimidating that I had to give it a try. Glad you liked it.



> _originally posted by Maldur_*
> mirthcard:
> I just finish my coffe otherwise I would heve been cleaning my monitor. That is one funny story! Im a bit disturbed by the using gnomes as the ultimate punishment. But its very funny!! Well done!
> 
> Im a bit stumped because of outside influences, so Ill do a more indepth analysis of my judging tomorrow.  But the Mirthcard story cheered me up, thx!
> 
> My vote goes to Mirthcard
> *




Aren't gnomes always the ultimate punishment? Well, there are mimes. So would that make gnomes the penultimate punishment?  Glad you liked it. I needed a laugh myself after this crazy weekend with my son, so I wrote it for me too. Heh.



> _originally posted by arwink_*
> Mirthcard.
> One thing I like about Mirthcard's entry is the overtone of the Pratchett/Gaiman collaboration Good Omens, an old favorite of mine. The tale is stylishly told, with a controlled voice that does the story credit, but in the end it's its similarity to other tales in this style that is its greatest drawback. It's a sub-genre I end up reading a lot of at work for some reason, and although Mirthcard handles it better than most, it does suffer a little in my eyes. The litany of evil/annoyance the Fiend has accomplished was amusing, but at the same time was a tad.cheap. At times it seems as though he's taking an easy shot at pop culture, picking on obvious targets (although I agree on the evils of wicker). When it brings up something interesting, such as the points where it incorporates the giant turtle, it truly shines and the ending is nice (and, I admit, I have to agree once more with the evils of garden gnomes as well).
> 
> Picking between these two stories is particularly tough, probably the hardest of all I've come across so far. On the whole, Mirthcard's is the slightly more controlled of the two - it shows a more sparing use of language that gives it a slight edge over Speakers tale. On the other hand, Speakers piece holds more surprises for me, it's prose showing a strong control of genre conventions and a well-paced and well-detailed plot. I've swung backwards and forwards a dozen times here - both pieces are very strong and their authors should be pleased with their work. In the end though, I end up leaning towards Speakers piece because it does the two things that I love in fantasy fiction - it kept me entertained and gave me things to steal for my games.
> 
> winner is mirthcard in a split decision.*




Owning a book & music store, I suppose I feel entitled to take cheap shots at pop culture  As was said in the story, The Fiend is failing at his job because the evil he creates isn't really evil, it's just annoying. Are you telling me that Kenny G isn't annoying (or evil)?  Pat Metheny might disagree with you.

All in all, I'm pleased with the story. I have to say again that I was worried about my decision to try fiction and I'm glad it worked out.

Unsheath thy blade, Lady of Shadows! It is time to dance!


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Thank you, Drawmack-you were a worthy opponent.  Now you get the pleasure of sitting back and relaxing while you watch Mirthcard wipe the floor with me.  Unless I can come up with something truly amazing.   

alsih2o-I have seen the pics and you are a sick, sick individual.

mirthcard-I'll be unleashing my _pen_ on you as soon as the concert high wears off.

But for now, I need more zzzzz's


----------



## Sniktch

I expect I'll be highly entertained by the final pieces when they're turned in...


----------



## alsih2o

12 hours in, and all is very quiet.

 ain't the finals almost creepy?


----------



## Mark

I'm getting anxious to see how the finals go!


----------



## Maldur

SSSST!!

They are working!!


----------



## Sniktch

Write faster you guys!


----------



## Mirth

Sniktch said:
			
		

> *Write faster you guys!  *




One of us is a gal. Not saying which one. 

_This tease post was brought to you at no expense by your friendly neighborhood mirthcard._


----------



## alsih2o

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *
> 
> This tease post was brought to you at no expense by your friendly neighborhood mirthcard. *




 hideous tease, bad man.

 ima gonna be memberin' thatun come judgement day, yessir


----------



## Speaker

Even I am still hear, waiting...  waiting to see...  Where are the final tales?!


----------



## shadoe

I'm sure they will be here soon enough. They have a bit of time to work out all of the details before they have to be posted. 



> Originaly posted by Mirthcard
> 
> One of us is a gal. Not saying which one.




I know which one.


----------



## Mirth

shadoe said:
			
		

> *I know which one.  *




God, I hope so  

_This second tease is mirthcard simply being cruel. Please do not encourage him further. He does have work to do, you know. _


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *This second tease is mirthcard simply being cruel. Please do not encourage him further. He does have work to do, you know.  *




Work?  You don't mean the kind for pay do you?  You mean working on your entry, which is far more important. Right?


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

*Here goes nothing*

With much trepidation I hereby submit my entry four the final round of 
CERAMIC DM: 
Mirthcard vs. Shadoe's Lady

A Long Trip With A Happy Ending

I regarded the picture hanging opposite the bed as I listened to a distraught woman telling me the particulars of her son’s disappearance.  About a week ago, he didn’t come down for breakfast and he wasn’t in his room.  Despite the surveillance cameras in the hallways and outside the house, there is no record of him having left.  The guard at the gate doesn’t remember anyone coming in or going out.  There are no signs that anyone entered or left this room.  Not that she can tell-or anyone else for that matter-not physically.  But I, on the other hand, can feel something-it’s like a psychic trail he left behind.  This is why she hired me.  The trail starts somewhere inside that picture and I don’t know where it might lead.  I ask her to leave the room and I lock the door behind her.

There’s a new designer drug on the market.  It’s something like acid, but instead of hallucinations the user is actually transported, for a time, to another dimension.  Usually it wears off in a few hours and the user finds himself back where he started.  It’s new, and expensive, and from the looks of this house the kid can afford it, but nothing in this room is giving off the vibes of a thrill seeker.  Yet the trail he left behind shows all the signs.  Whatever his reasons were for doing it, I won’t find them here.  Nor will I be able to determine the cause of his long absence.  I’ll have to follow the trail.  Unlike him, I won’t need the drug.

I sit on his bed cross-legged, preparing to enter the trance state necessary to follow the trail he left behind.  I study the painting.  It’s a boat, with sails and oars, filled with jovial looking people (one hanging from a ladder) floating above a small village with wooden buildings and a river running through the middle. (picture1)  The pennants flying from the masts begin to wave in the breeze and I hear singing.  They’re singing “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds,” of all things.  I shout to them asking if they’ve seen a young man, perhaps a little taller than me, with brown hair and blue eyes.  Of course, they reply, he taught them the song.  They are more than happy to give me a lift to the place where they dropped him off.  We fly away in the painted boat over the painted landscape until we come to a place where the painted river begins to look more real to me.  They leave me standing on a white sand beach and fly away singing merrily.

The water here is breathtakingly clear and blue.  I can see a small rowboat, far out, and someone sitting in it.  I can also see a large, black, sinuous shape making its way toward me through the water. (bonus picture 1)  The snake advances until just his head is out of the water, resting on the sand.  I ask after my quarry, but the snake hasn’t seen him.  He says he must have been out tipping rowboats when the airship dropped the young man off.  Speaking of which, there’s one left on the water that he’s been lulling into a false sense of security.  He smiles his serpentine smile and slithers off, calling over his shoulder that I might want to walk away from the beach in the direction of the sun and ask around at the cow pasture just beyond the trees.  I thank him and follow his directions as best as I can, considering the sun seems to be salsa dancing its way across the sky.

It isn’t long before I find myself on the opposite side of the fence from a group of wildly colored cows that, unfortunately, either don’t understand me or don’t speak.  As I ponder my next move I seem to hear a small high pitched voice coming from somewhere just beyond the fence singing, “Rolling, rolling, rolling, gotta keep ‘em rolling, keep those dung balls rolling….” An iridescent green dung beetle is rolling his smelly prize along the ground, all the while singing absently to himself. (bonus picture 2)  The little beetle isn’t sure if he’s seen the man I’m seeking—all humans look alike to him.  He remembers a few of them here sometime in the past few days.  They stood by the fence to the cow pasture, then wandered over to look at the bulls, then there was some sort of commotion and they headed off in that direction (he points with one foreleg).  While I don’t think this has anything to do with my case, I can feel the trail leading in the direction the beetle indicated.  I leave him to his dung and his song and continue on my way.  Now it seems I am tracking the footsteps of at least two, possibly three, humans.  Or possibly two to three creatures in human shaped shoes-you never know.  The path stays close to the fence for a time and then heads into the trees.

I follow the path for what seems like hours to me, although it’s hard to tell since the sun isn’t moving in a very stable arc and time probably moves differently here than what I’m used to.  It’s cool and quiet under the trees.  Eventually the path leads to a clearing where two men are sitting, slumped against the trees, sleeping.  At the sound of my voice, they wake abruptly and scramble to their feet.  Both men are unarmed and dressed in boots and very little else, which shows off their large muscles quite well.  Despite their obvious physical strength, they look tired and show signs of a recent defeat in battle. (picture 4)  I am correct in this assumption, they tell me.  They participated in a series of gladiatorial games and were soundly defeated.  They were on their way home when they passed the pasture and the third member of their team wished aloud for the strength and power of a bull.  They said a change came over him as he ran from them—they saw him grow taller, his muscles grow larger, and a pair of horns begin to protrude from his forehead.  They tried to follow him, but his speed was so enhanced by the change that they have not caught up to him yet.  On a hunch I take one of his boots that they kept and focus my energy on the former wearer.  I now feel the pull of two trails, both leading in the same direction.  I tell the two men about my mission and they eagerly offer to accompany me.

The sun doesn’t seem to set here and my newfound companions don’t seem to tire very easily.  After what could be hours or days (hard to tell with that crazy sun overhead) we reach the end of the path in the forest and come to a cave.  As we head deeper and deeper into the cave, I feel both trails growing stronger until we reach a plain stone archway, carved neatly into one side of the cave wall.  The three of us pass under the archway into a haze of green smoke coming from a copper cauldron.  We hear a set of footsteps approaching-big, heavy footsteps.  Out of the smoke comes a large, extremely well muscled creature with the body of a man and the head of a bull holding a spiked mace. (picture 2)  It soon becomes clear that this is the lost party member.  Even though he ran from his friends when his transformation began, he is now quite happy to see them.  The change startled him and when he calmed down he found himself in the cave, lost.  He wasn’t the smartest of men before, and the bull’s brain isn’t helping-he keeps having the oddest urges to paw at the ground and charge moving objects.  I leave the three to their reunion; after they assure me they can find their way out on their own.

I continue heading deeper and deeper into the cave, following the remaining trail, until I come to a plain white door.  I open the door and find myself in a sort of laboratory.  There are various substances in test tubes and glass beakers being heated over Bunsen burners.  In the center of the room, over a burner of its own, in a large glass jar, stands a brown field mouse, tenderly holding a yellow canary. (picture 3)  I call out a name and the mouse starts and nods his head.  I turn off the flame on the burner, but before I can break the glass to release him he stops me.  There are things I need to know, he tells me, like why he came here and why I was sent after him.  It’s about a woman he fell in love with who his mother felt was unsuitable-the canary.  It’s about his overprotective, overbearing mother hiring someone to get rid of this woman-but not in any way that could be traced.  It’s about a dealer who sold him a pill so he could follow his love.  It’s about a spoken wish to find her and be joined with her forever-although I think the Bunsen burner was a little extreme.  So I point out that an eternity in this fantasy world is not the most comfortable idea.  I tell him that he’s going to have to convince his mother that whatever hell she sends this woman to he will always find her and she’s going to have to accept that he loves who he loves, however unsuitable.  He thinks for a bit, and then agrees to return to the place he belongs.

We are back in his room, the three of us now, standing in a circle holding hands.  He is much more handsome than in the pictures his mother showed me-his brown hair showing glints of gold, his blue eyes much bluer in person.  And his lady is beautiful, tall and willowy, with pale yellow hair that falls past her waist.  As they walk towards the door I stop them.  On what grounds, I ask, did his mother find this young woman unsuitable?  Race, he answers, as she lifts a lock of hair away from her face revealing a subtly pointed ear. He unlocks the door and finds his mother standing in the hallway.  Her face pales as she sees who stands by his side.  He begins to tell her, in no uncertain terms, how things will be from now on.  And I begin to feel that everything will be fine.


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

There!  It's done and I can't take it back.  Good luck to Mirthcard.  I can't wait to see what you did with what we were given.

edit: Ack!  "four the last round"!  Where are my brains?????


----------



## Maldur

ooh, first story.

As my brain isn't working properly Ill do my judging from the emotion, not solid reasoning 

Im afraid Youll have to do with oneliner judgements.


----------



## alsih2o

wow, mirthcard is cutting it close!


----------



## arwink

Showmanship, that's what it is.  He wants to make a big entrance at the last moment


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

He's fine-tuning, people.  Give him some space.

Ummm, how much longer now?


----------



## alsih2o

just about an hour left, he pushed it to the last minute once, literally


----------



## Maldur

He is a showman allright


----------



## shadoe

I think we all want to see Mithcard's entry. Hopefully he will post it soon.


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

I feel like there should be a drumroll.


----------



## alsih2o

well, i have a luch date with a frequent buyer so i must go, but i will be eating and wondering and waiting


----------



## Mirth

mirthcard vs, shadoe's lady

Siratos finally awoke to find that his hands were chained to either side of the black wrought-iron cage where he was now apparently being held. His vision was blurred, his brain ached and he could feel something wet falling from his face to splash on the metal floor of the cage. He didn't even need to look down to know it was his own blood, seeping from a head wound he received when that awful beast had come at him with its mace *(Pic #2)*. 

Siratos realized now how foolish he had been to think that he could navigate The Maze of Deritaeus, help or no help. The old sage shook his head to try and clear his vision, only to find a searing pain shooting through him. When he tried to yell out, he found that his mouth was gagged as well. His feet slipped on the blood-slick floor, and he fell. Both arms now held the entire weight of Siratos' body between them. His body felt as thought it were on fire. He passed out. 

As he came to again, the odd sound of squeaking and chirping made him feel as though all that had come before was a dream. As soon as he tried to move, he knew it wasn't. Luckily the pain had subsided somewhat and his vision had cleared. He wondered how long he had been out. He heard the chirping and squeaking again. Looking about the stone chamber, he spied his two compadres Mikal and Nagon. The poor animals were being kept on a countertop in a glass jar *(Pic #3)*. And standing next to them was his arch-nemesis, Deritaeus, the black mage, staring at him. 

"I'm glad you're finally awake," the dark wizard smiled as he turned on a flame under Mikal and Nagon, who held each other and began to squeal. "I was just making some lunch." The evil one turned the flame higher and chuckled at the discomfort it caused Siratos. "You realize how ridiculous you looked trying to make your way through my maze, don't you? Crouched over, holding a lamp and following a little mouse - it was simply too much. I was laughing so much I almost wasn't able to give Mettallax the order to cave your head in, although the canary was a nice touch. I didn't think you knew about my gas traps."

"I'm afraid your rescue mission has been for naught, my old friend," the villain continued as he pulled a bell rope nearby. "I have the sky-anchor and your crew. All I need do now is uncover the command word and I can sail out of this confounded prison isle you sentenced me to." The sound of a large metal door screeching open was followed by the click-clack of hooves on stone as the great minotaur Mettallax entered the room, its cow-stink and fetid breath arriving only moments before the beast itself. 

Deritaeus grinned, "We can do this easy way or the hard way. Either you tell me the command word or Mettallax here can finish what he started earlier." The black mage looked truly surprised and disappointed when Siratos nodded his head in agreement. "That's a pity, I had so hoped that you would pick the hard way. You are so much weaker now that you have grown so ancient. Mettallax, help the old goat with his gag." The minotaur stepped forward, set down his mace and unlocked the cage. One giant bull-hand reached in and palmed Siratos' entire head, wrenching it upward while pulling down on the gag with the other. 

Siratos screamed in pain at Deritaeus as his mouth came free, "You miserable wretch. I shall dance on your grave, I swear it." Mettallax gripped Siratos' neck and the old man screamed in pain again. 

Deritaeus waited for the screams to subside before continuing, "Enough of the empty threats, Siratos. Tell me the command word now or Mettallax will squeeze until your head pops off like a ripe berry."

"Very well, very well. Just remember later that you asked for this," Siratos looked towards the glass jar behind the dark wizard and spoke, "MikalNagon." He smiled as he heard the glass shatter. Deritaeus, knowing a trick had been played, yelled "Squeeze!" to Mettallax as he spun around towards the counter. The last thing Siratos saw was the mouse and the canary changing back to their true selves - the great barbarian warriors, Mikal and Nagon! *(Pic #4)*

Detitaeus didn't have time to speak or cast a spell for Nagon's hand was at his throat, "You said squeeze did you, blackheart? Glad to oblige!" The villain crumpled to the floor, his neck broken. 

Mettallax bull rushed the pair but they were too fast, pausing only long enough to grab the keys to the cells before rushing out the metal door, the minotaur hot on their heels. Mikal blocked the door as Nagon freed the crew and they all made for the boat at the shore of the island. Hooking the sky-anchor to the ship, they took off into the air *(Pic #1)*, leaving the minotaur behind on the shore.


----------



## Maldur

oooh hard.
I have to think on this .

Patience my pretties!


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Somebody get Mirthcard a towel and some Gatorade!


----------



## Mirth

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *Somebody get Mirthcard a towel and some Gatorade! *




Actually, some cold medicine, OJ, kleenex and a warm bed would do  Took my nearly one-year-old son to the doctor for possible pneumonia (doesn't have it, thankfully) and now I've got it, whatever it is. Luckily, I'm snowed in at home today. Don't think I could go to work feeling like this. Gonna go watch some cheesy TV and try to sleep now. 

Good luck, Shadoe's Lady!


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Actually, some cold medicine, OJ, kleenex and a warm bed would do  Took my nearly one-year-old son to the doctor for possible pneumonia (doesn't have it, thankfully) and now I've got it, whatever it is. Luckily, I'm snowed in at home today. Don't think I could go to work feeling like this. Gonna go watch some cheesy TV and try to sleep now.
> 
> Good luck, Shadoe's Lady! *




Man, that bites!  I'm glad neither of you has anything serious.  Cheesy TV should definitely help!


----------



## Mirth

Bumping for tha judges! 

"Don't be cruel, to a heart that's true."


----------



## shadoe

This is just a friendly bump back to the first page, and a question of when do you think we will get the final results on this back?


----------



## alsih2o

wow, simultaneous bumping, that's real entertainment 

 i have my critique written, we are just waiting for input from the 2 other judges, one in europe, one in australia....


----------



## Mirth

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *wow, simultaneous bumping, that's real entertainment
> 
> i have my critique written, we are just waiting for input from the 2 other judges, one in europe, one in australia.... *




Heh. We aims to please, I guess. Isn't that right, Shadoe?


----------



## shadoe

Sure do. Besides it certainly beats doing real work at work. Or maybe I am just busy waiting for my test to finish printing.... I am not sure which.


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Shouldn't someone change the topic?  

No, really, I mean it.  I'm not just bumping the thread.


----------



## Mirth

*B*ring

*U*ntold

*M*irthcard / Shadoe Lady

*P*ronouncement!

Please, I'm begging you! I'm a sick man and I must get my rest.


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

Hey mirthcard,  I liked what you did with the mouse and the bird in the jar.  I didn't see that one coming.

So, is soon something like "within the next 24 hours"?


----------



## alsih2o

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *Hey mirthcard,  I liked what you did with the mouse and the bird in the jar.  I didn't see that one coming.
> 
> So, is soon something like "within the next 24 hours"?  *




 with one judge in australia, one in tennessee and one in the netherlands i cannot predict that, sorry


----------



## Shadoe's Lady

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *
> 
> with one judge in australia, one in tennessee and one in the netherlands i cannot predict that, sorry  *




Well, especially when you consider that it's still Thursday in Tennessee, but it's Friday in the other two places.


----------



## arwink

Well, at least one-third of the international judging decision is written up and sent.

May your wait for results be short .


----------



## Maldur

Sorry it took so long, but clay has my verdict


----------



## alsih2o

ALSIH2O-

  shadoe's lady- brings us right to the edge of Wonderland

 the dung beetle and the snake seemed a little tacked on. however, i really did
 like the idea of a dungbeetle character (are you listening disney?). i was quite taken by the mouse being
the center of the story, an unexpected twist. i normally do not like it when someone uses the pics as pictures IN
 the story, but the use of the ship, and it coming to life with a crew singing a beatles song really worked.

 with the final racial twist it really set the story in my mind. bravo SL!

 mirthcard- takes us on a dark trip

  i really liked the combo of the bird and mouse being the muscular goons, beautiful stuff.
 the first 2 paragraphs have a dark mood and gritty details that grabbed me fast, but the ending seemed a bit hurried.
 a good story, as mirthcard has us used to, but without bonus pics and the quick ending it doesn't take it this time for me


 my vote is for shadoe's lady as the new ruler of ceramic d.m.land 

 MALDUR-

 Shadoes lady
Nice idea, a psycic PI traveling through a painting in search of someone.
Its very "alice", or "Erik and the little book of insects"(a dutch litterary
classic).
It feels a bit like a gimmick, in a world of the mind you can find anything.
But nice story.

Mirthcard
Story was aclassic bad guy sets trap, good guy was prepared trap reversed
kinda story. Even though the story was less original, I think the use of the
pictures and his writing are very good through.

This one was really hard. I had no imidiate preference of one over the
other. In the end Mirthcards felt better. 

So Ill have to go with Mirthcard!

Sorry folks. I did try to eleborate more in why I went one way or the other.
But (after about 12 drafts) I still cant say why exactly, It stays instinct

 ARWINK-

 Mirthcard Vs Shadoe's Lady - The finals.

Shadoe's Lady
Again, Shadoe's Lady plays with an interesting mix of the real world and 
fantasy, bringing the mix together in a great idea.  The main problem I had 
with her piece was the pacing - the way things were structured I felt far 
too much like someone was saying, "This happened, and then this happened, 
and then this happened."  Although there's no need for literal links between 
events in such a surreal realm as her detective is exploring, there is some 
call for stronger narrative links.  I was also looking for more links and 
reactions between the narrator and his/her environment.  There's a very 
straight approach to the environs and events, but no real personal 
interaction to what's happening and what's being seen.  Comparing this to 
her earlier piece, where the characterization of her secret agent is 
immensely strong in the way the story is told, this was a tad disappointing. 
  All in all, this was a brilliantly approach to including the images, but 
needs a little more work to pull it off.

Mirthcard
Mirthcard's piece starts very nicely - well paced, a nice balance between 
description and advancing the plot, and some well-planned characterization.  
I was instantly hooked and ready to read more.  Unfortunately, he lost me in 
the last half of the piece.  The flaw here isn't so much that things fall 
apart, but rather that I feel like I've suddenly come into the movie halfway 
through.   The revelation of the transformed bird and mouse very much falls 
under the "Gun on the mantle in the first act, someone gets shot in the 
last" rule of fiction.  Without it, it seems to much like a Dues Ex moment 
where everything is solved by unforeseeable changes and the reader feels 
cheated by Siratos escape (or, at least, I know I did).  There's a nice DnD 
feel to this piece, but it still keeps the mythological resonance of the 
minotaur alive.  The use of the creatures to barbarian warriors is also 
great, but needs more set-up in the earlier stages of the piece to work from 
a narrative standpoint.

Again, judging between these two pieces is hard as their strengths and 
weaknesses both lie in completely different areas.  Shadoe's Lady piece is 
consistently innovative with the use of ingredients, but falls slightly flat 
in terms of style.  Mirthcard's is stylistically more impressive, but it's 
brilliant use of two of the ingredients is let down by an erratic moment of 
plotting.

In the end, I give this round to Mirthcard by the hair of a cat's whisker.  
Congratulations to both entrents - it's been a hard field and you've done 
well to get this far.  I've enjoyed reading both your work, and look forward 
to seeing you again in future competitions.

 so, in a split decision Mirthcard retains his crown!

 congrats!


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## alsih2o

i would like to send out a big thank you to everyone who participated, and especially to maldur and arwink.

 i know judging can seem very slow when you are waiting for it, but these guys deserve the best for doing this, it isn't as easy as it looks 

 i have had 24 people now askl for a reserved spot in the next one, and we are working on ideas to make it possible....look for it around the first of march


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## Mark

Congrats to all of the participants!


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## Shadoe's Lady

Congratulations, mirthcard!  Way to go!

Again, judges thanks for the critiques.


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## Maldur

Ill try and do better on judging in the future.

Great stuff everyone!!!

Mirthcard congratulations!
Shadoes lady, better luck next time


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## Ashy

Congrats to all!!    alish2o, is there any way we can get Morrus to set up a page for this stuff?  It would be great to be able to read at a later date!


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## alsih2o

Ashy said:
			
		

> *Congrats to all!!    alish2o, is there any way we can get Morrus to set up a page for this stuff?  It would be great to be able to read at a later date!   *




 i imagine morrus as a busy man with bigger fish to fry, but there are lots of talented, dedicated folks on these boards who could likely pull it off. any volunteers for this project?


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## Mirth

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *Congratulations, mirthcard!  Way to go!
> 
> Again, judges thanks for the critiques. *




Thanks Lady! You did really well this round, so don't feel bad about your performance. 

I'm the one who should feel bad (besides actually being sick) because I only sat down to write the piece in the last hour and a half of the competition, which should explain the rushed ending. I had the whole thing plotted out and was going to write it up as a scenario, but those take longer and are harder to do and get right - at least for me. 

Pushed for time, I put down as much as I could and submitted it at what I thought was the last minute I had left (sound familiar?). I had planned on the underwater creature in Pic #5 to be one of many guarding the island. The minotaur would have jumped onto the anchor at the last minute, a fight would have ensued and both he and the barbarians would have fallen into the water only to be consumed by the water creatures.



> _Originally posted by alsih2o_
> *mirthcard- takes us on a dark trip
> 
> i really liked the combo of the bird and mouse being the muscular goons, beautiful stuff.
> the first 2 paragraphs have a dark mood and gritty details that grabbed me fast, but the ending seemed a bit hurried.
> a good story, as mirthcard has us used to, but without bonus pics and the quick ending it doesn't take it this time for me*




When I saw Pics 3 & 4 together, that was just the first thing that came to mind. The tone was somthing that I would have carried throughout the piece if the deadline had not smacked me in the face. It was rushed, so you've got me there  

One thing I would like to bring up, which you mention here, is that in the Iron DM bonus ingredients are not required (ostensibly they aren't here either) and should not count against you if they are not used. The difference being that in Iron DM if you do decide to include the bonuses and they are underdeveloped / throwaways, they will count _against_ you _more_ than if you had not used them at all. Something you might want to think about for future competitions. Makes it a bit harder to include the bonuses and make it worth it for the piece.



> _Originally posted by Maldur_
> *Mirthcard
> Story was aclassic bad guy sets trap, good guy was prepared trap reversed
> kinda story. Even though the story was less original, I think the use of the
> pictures and his writing are very good through.
> 
> This one was really hard. I had no imidiate preference of one over the
> other. In the end Mirthcards felt better.
> 
> So Ill have to go with Mirthcard!*




Thanks Maldur! I knew it was going to be a close one when I submitted, so I feel just as torn over the decision as you do. Not to say that I'm not glad that it went my way, though 



> _Originally posted by arwink_
> *Mirthcard
> Mirthcard's piece starts very nicely - well paced, a nice balance between
> description and advancing the plot, and some well-planned characterization.
> I was instantly hooked and ready to read more. Unfortunately, he lost me in
> the last half of the piece. The flaw here isn't so much that things fall
> apart, but rather that I feel like I've suddenly come into the movie halfway
> through. The revelation of the transformed bird and mouse very much falls
> under the "Gun on the mantle in the first act, someone gets shot in the
> last" rule of fiction. Without it, it seems to much like a Dues Ex moment
> where everything is solved by unforeseeable changes and the reader feels
> cheated by Siratos escape (or, at least, I know I did). There's a nice DnD
> feel to this piece, but it still keeps the mythological resonance of the
> minotaur alive. The use of the creatures to barbarian warriors is also
> great, but needs more set-up in the earlier stages of the piece to work from
> a narrative standpoint.
> 
> Again, judging between these two pieces is hard as their strengths and
> weaknesses both lie in completely different areas. Shadoe's Lady piece is
> consistently innovative with the use of ingredients, but falls slightly flat
> in terms of style. Mirthcard's is stylistically more impressive, but it's
> brilliant use of two of the ingredients is let down by an erratic moment of
> plotting.
> 
> In the end, I give this round to Mirthcard by the hair of a cat's whisker.
> Congratulations to both entrents - it's been a hard field and you've done
> well to get this far. I've enjoyed reading both your work, and look forward
> to seeing you again in future competitions.
> 
> so, in a split decision Mirthcard retains his crown!
> 
> congrats!*




I've talked about about the rushed ending above so I won't belabor the point that is made so well here by arwink. I will say that Siratos didn't escape, he was killed, but I could have made that clearer in the story. Thanks arwink for giving me the nod on this difficult decision.

All of the criticism above is valid and insightful. The last round was a bear for me, so I feel lucky to have won it. Especially against Shadoe's Lady who came on very strong. 

As for the 24+ entrants in the next round  I really don't think alsih2o wants to see me win a third time  I'll be ready to go at the beginning of March, though. Look forward to seeing everybody then.

I'm off to change my sig line


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## Shadoe's Lady

Maldur said:
			
		

> *
> Shadoes lady, better luck next time *




_Better?_  It gets better than having a good time and making it as far as the finals?  Wow!  I'll have to try this again, then.


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## alsih2o

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I'm off to change my sig line  *




 lol, ah, the harried sig line of a victorious combatant


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## Maldur

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Better?  It gets better than having a good time and making it as far as the finals?  Wow!  I'll have to try this again, then.  *




It was VERY close.

I just meant it as a compliment And I expect you to beat Mirthcard next time


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## Shadoe's Lady

Maldur said:
			
		

> *
> 
> It was VERY close.
> 
> I just meant it as a compliment And I expect you to beat Mirthcard next time  *




No pressure, right?   

(Still looking for his new sig line....)

I haven't been doing the post-game thing like mirthcard, but I would like to say that as I felt the pictures themselves had a very unreal, fantastic quality, I felt my submission should have the same tone.  I would also like to say that I was pleased with my work and I don't feel bad about this at all.  (So Shadoe should stop worrying about it-although consolation prizes of cash, chocolate, and expensive jewelry will not be rejected  )


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## Mirth

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *(Still looking for his new sig line....)
> *




Oh it's there baby! And now twice as obnoxious  You shouldn't feel bad about your performance here at all but feel free to milk it for all its worth, heh.


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## Shadoe's Lady

mirthcard said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Oh it's there baby! And now twice as obnoxious  You shouldn't feel bad about your performance here at all but feel free to milk it for all its worth, heh. *




Very nice.  Subtle, but with just right hint of obnoxiousness.  *golf clap* 

You need to carry around a trophy or wear a Burger King crown or something ... Oh, I guess most people wouldn't get it.


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## alsih2o

Shadoe's Lady said:
			
		

> *
> 
> You need to carry around a trophy or wear a Burger King crown or something ... Oh, I guess most people wouldn't get it. *




 hmmm, perchance it is time for a completely inane ceramic trophy for the winners...

 if i choose to do so i will do so retroactively there mirthcard


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## shadoe

I'm not worrying about it. I guess that means I am now supposed to go look for chocolates, cash or expensive jewelry....

shadoe wanders off saying "Here chocolates, cash, expensive jewelry come out, come out whereever you are....."


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## Maldur

It seems shadoes ladies priorities changed. Chocolate is getting more important


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## shadoe

I am all for the inane ceramic trophy for the winners. I think that would be a great to see.


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## Ashy

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *
> 
> hmmm, perchance it is time for a completely inane ceramic trophy for the winners...
> 
> if i choose to do so i will do so retroactively there mirthcard  *




I think it needs to be a pointy gnome hat!


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## Shadoe's Lady

Maldur said:
			
		

> *It seems shadoes ladies priorities changed. Chocolate is getting more important  *




getting?  Chocolate is ALWAYS important 

Maybe the winner should get a ceramic trophy *filled* with chocolate...now that's an idea I can get behind!


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## NiTessine

_NiTessine enters, points at mirthcard, and shouts:_
"Mirthcard... The next time... YOU'RE GOING DOOOWN!"


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## alsih2o

nit, you kill me. this is exactly the kind of smacktalk that works


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## Maldur

alsih2o said:
			
		

> *nit, you kill me. this is exactly the kind of smacktalk that works  *




Hopefully its gonna continue till march


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## NoOneofConsequence

*from the sidelines*

"Mirthcard! Mirthcard! He's our boy! If he can't do it _no one_....will!"

Careful, there's a pun! 

Congratulations and well done to all finalists. See you next season.


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## mythago

Congratulations, mirthcard! And to all the fine competitors.


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## Mirth

Sorry everybody, I got really sick right after my last post here and I've only just now recovered enough to get back on the boards to reply to some posts. I'll try to get through them quickly.



			
				alsih2o said:
			
		

> *
> 
> hmmm, perchance it is time for a completely inane ceramic trophy for the winners...
> 
> if i choose to do so i will do so retroactively there mirthcard  *




Sounds great, alsih2o  But I would say that if it costs ANY money (materials, shipping, etc.) then don't do it. You could make it, take a photo and then make it the winner's avatar or put it in their sig line until they lost it in competition. 



> _Originally posted by NiTessine_
> *NiTessine enters, points at mirthcard, and shouts:
> "Mirthcard... The next time... YOU'RE GOING DOOOWN!"*




BRING IT ON BROTHER!!!!!! 
I'VE GOT THE BELT, HAVE YOU GOT THE B@LL$?!?!?!?



> _Originally posted by NoOneofConsequence_
> *"Mirthcard! Mirthcard! He's our boy! If he can't do it no one....will!"
> *




See, NiTessine! I've got fans, too. Wait a second...

And to Mark, Ashy & mythago, thanks for the compliments. 

Here's a sympathy pull for everyone still reading this. I'll be looking for a REAL job at the end of Feb. Anybody looking for someone creative?


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