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Monthly Writer's Challenge : June 2007

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Monthly Writer's Challenge : June 2007

Postby Qray » Tue Jun 05, 2007 8:26 pm

June 2007 Writer's Challenge

The guidelines for the Challenge are as follows :
    Write a story, poem, or song that somehow incorporates the monthly challenge image, challenge title, or both. The story, poem, or song doesn’t need to be a complete work. It can just be an excerpt. Just so long as it meets the minimum word count and somehow incorporates the monthly challenge image, challenge title, or both.

    As with all posts, the content of the story, poem, or song must meet Speculative Vision Forumguidelines for appropriateness.

    Any genre may be used.

    For the month of June, there is no minimum word count.

    You can write more than one story, poem, or song.

    The end of the challenge (the deadline) will be the end of the month.

This is a writing challenge, not a contest. It’s an opportunity to share our creativity and have fun!

If you want a critique of your writing, please say so in your post.

Let the authorial mayhem continue!

This month's story title:
Never Again.

This month's image:
Image
Source : Honest Eckart.
I'm going to die the way I've lived...poor, screaming, and naked.
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Knights of Stone

Postby RHFay » Tue Jun 05, 2007 9:11 pm

Oh, I like the picture! Is it the Temple Church, by any chance? I think I recognize those effigies.

Alright, here's a quick effort. Pardon it's possible rough nature, I wrote it rather quickly.

Knights of Stone

by Richard H. Fay

Warriors of old lie silent and still
Upon their Purbeck marble beds.
Images of splendour and might
Recline over mouldering remains.

Never again will swords be bloodied
At the beck and call of an earthly lord.
Brutal retribution and righteous defence
Are all things of the distant past.

Mailed hands are raised in prayer
As the paladins face eternity.
They've all been called home
To serve a greater master.

Cheers!
"I'm going to do what the warriors of old did. I'm going to recite poetry!" Andrew of Armar.
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knightly haiku...

Postby RHFay » Tue Jun 05, 2007 9:24 pm

How about a haiku based on the photo?:

marble monument
image of martial splendour
knightly effigy

Hey, I think it works! It's even in the old 5-7-5 syllable pattern.

This is fun, but maybe I should let someone else have a go now...
"I'm going to do what the warriors of old did. I'm going to recite poetry!" Andrew of Armar.
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Never Again

Postby RHFay » Tue Jun 05, 2007 9:47 pm

Oh, I can't help myself! Once I get going, I just can't stop. I found myself pondering the title "Never Again", and this is what I came up with, "Never Again":

Never again will you:
Drag me down,
Knock me around,
Pull my strings,
Hurt my pride.

Never again will I:
Take your abuse,
Believe your lies,
Be your patsy,
Play the fool.

Never again will we:
Walk the walk,
Talk the talk,
Act like friends,
Be together.

Never, ever, again.

***

Okay, I think I've really done quite enough in this thread. Now it's time for someone else to take a crack at it.

Cheers!
"I'm going to do what the warriors of old did. I'm going to recite poetry!" Andrew of Armar.
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Postby RHFay » Wed Jun 06, 2007 9:00 am

I came up with this line in the "Monthly Writer's Challenges: Discussion" thread (I added "truly" for the thread here). It actually sounds like the start of another poem. Maybe somebody else could work off of it and see what they can come up with:

Chivalry is not truly dead, it only sleeps upon a marble bed


The line can be broken into two, or placed anywhere in the poem. It doesn't have to be the first line.

So, what say you? Want to give it a try? Use the photo and the line as inspiration, as a jumping-off point, and see what you can create.

I've thrown down the gauntlet, now who is brave enough to pick it up and accept the challenge? I would love to see what others come up with!

Cheers!
"I'm going to do what the warriors of old did. I'm going to recite poetry!" Andrew of Armar.
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Postby Bmat » Mon Jun 11, 2007 8:26 am

As the Sea

Roderick dizzily leant against the sea-washed rock. The surf pounded. Or was it the sound of his own heart and his own labored breathing that he heard? With a gloved hand he wiped his face, smearing the blood that was seeping from the cuts.

Another wave of dizziness. He needed to proceed onward. He had given so much already for King and Country that to stop now, with his task unfinished, was not a choice.

He willed himself to take another step, and another.

The ambush had taken the group by surprise. Roderick and his companions fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered. The captain had gasped for Roderick to take the medallion and flee. Weeping inside, Roderick had obeyed.

One trembling step. Another. Was that a sound of pursuit?

No, it was only a wave pounding the cliff behind him.

Each breath demanded concentration. He had to continue. The blood dripped into his eyes. Another step. Another breath. Roderick knew, grimly, that if he stopped again that he would stop indeed. Another step. Another breath.

And so he continued. The waves traveled up the beach and caressed his ankles. Was it minutes? Was it hours? Each step took greater effort.

Marie! O my sweet Marie. I shall never see thee again, nor our baby.

Numbness now. A step. A breath.

Marie, is that you, my love? As the sea now embraces my steps, soon I will hold you in my arms. I shall join you. I am coming.

The king turned at the commotion. “Yes? What is it?”

“It is Lord Roderick, Majesty. He has somehow managed to bring the sacred medallion even though mortally wounded.” The nobleman held the medallion toward the king.

The king ignored the outstretched hand and walked to the place where several fighters stood still in the midst of the activity. The friar was saying a prayer over the body of the knight who had walked the long length of the beach to the encampment.

The friar rose, shaking his head. “This young man should never have been able to travel this far, my Liege. Even with the salt water from the sea slowing the bleeding, his wounds are too severe and should have killed him within a few minutes.”

The king knelt and prayed.


Patricia wandered through the cool sanctuary and stopped at the effigies lying on the floor. She wondered what the knights had done that they would have been honored like this. Time and the salt spray from the sea had eroded the statues, and Patricia could only make out a few letters of the names. She saw an “R” on one, and an “o.”

Oh well, the bus was about ready to leave. So she hurried off.
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Postby LightBrigade » Thu Jun 14, 2007 2:32 am

My offer here this month is rather longish.

It is a story with two men standing before the thematic picture above.

The story title is Never Again, as defined for this month's challenge.

Here is something a little longer than four ignescent pages with a paregoric ending.

*bends down and deposits the caisson *

- - - -
This piece of writing is dedicated to the member of Speculative Vision behind the nickname Who Me for earnest endeavour towards progress.
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A hero's death

Postby Topazsag » Thu Jun 28, 2007 11:37 am

Elise sat in her rocking chair brooding. The curtains pulled tight so that even the bright summer sun could not penetrate the gloom. That is how she wanted it. Six months ago her husband had set out to sea to negotiate a peace agreement. She knew it to be a foolhardy mission, everyone did. He would not have brought all of his best armor, the heavy sword that had been passed down for many generations. Never again. The blood line of the proud Hassett name would end with her dear husband Brandon. He had died a hero’s death but what did that mean, he was dead just the same. A hero’s death meant that she was paraded about the town as various memorials took place. First the King held his ceremony giving her a heavy plaque with her husbands name and a hefty stack of coins. She would be set for life the state would pay her enough to live comfortably for the rest of her life. Comfortably, the word disgusted her. There could be no comfort in living a life of solitude all because he decided to be a hero! Then there was the ceremony at the Magus Colosseum, he had died protecting one of their most powerful mages and as such was a hero to them as well. The mage had won the war for the other side had not been prepared to fight a battle with sorcery. The scoundrels had thought to catch them off guard, they were cowards and their bodies lay bloated and forgotten at the bottom of the sea, so much the better. The king had commissioned that all captains that died in that battle were to be remembered their bodies carved in stone and displayed in the cathedral. Elise had been summoned on several occasions to remark on the details, never again. The statue near it’s completion seemed to stare at her and she would not go near it again and if they didn’t have their details right they could get it from someone else! A new warship had been built to set sail on the morrow for the isles of those same people who her husband had sought to make peace with. They were prepared to launch the entire fleet but they wanted Elise, widow of the captain of that fleet, to Christen the ship. She had attended such ceremonies many times before. She had been there for her husband’s maiden voyage. Never again. The townspeople did not know it yet but she would not be there, someone else would have to take her place. She walked outside and down the hill behind her house to the cliff overlooking the rocks with waves crashing below. She would not die a heroes death, but she could not bear the pain, the apologies, the ceremonies.... Never Again.
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Postby Dark Knight » Sat Jun 30, 2007 9:02 pm

Zonren looked down on the four effigies, as he had done many times before over the months following what happen to his friends. Three friends and one traitor Zonren thought.
As in all those other times he was here late in the night, so that no one would see what he usually did.
Zonren kneeled down next to the first effigy, and sprinkled a small amount of the powder he had in his right hand on the effigy. With his left hand he push gentle though effigy to the coffin underneath . Touching the chest of his friend, he felt the amour uniform. There as always the faintest of heart beats, the spells had kept him alive. Usually now he would check on the two others, and then leave them in peace.
Zonren said the words of a spell and then put his other hand through the effigy and into the coffin below. Grabbing his friend by the shoulders, he pulled the top half of his friend up though the coffin and the effigy.
Shadric opened his eyes and pulled his hands up though the coven and the effigy to rub his eyes. Then realising what he had just done he looked at his hands.
“Shadric time to get you out of there”
That voice, Zonren, the spells before the battle must have worked, Shadric thought. Turning he looked at Zonren.
“well don’t just sit there the spell will ware off and you will be stuck fast”
Shadric quickly got up and stepped out of the coven.
“why the effigies?”
“After the battle I made sure you where honoured, the traitors where to be burned, I could not have that”,
“are the others….?”
“alive, asleep?…. Yes, I will get them up”
“that traitor is he alive?” Shadric loudly said, as he spotted the effigy of the traitor.
“No, claim down, he is dead, his burnt body is lying in his coven”
“how long has it been?” Shadric asked, as Zonren walk over to the next effigy.
“nine months”, Zonren said.

In a small room in the palace the Emperor was talking to a captain who had just arrived. Several guards where in the room waiting for the conversation to be over.
Zonren as silent as ever, the Emperor thought, as he felt the presence of the other wizard, but he continued to talk with the captain.
Death, the feeling was unmistakeable, guards where dying, the Emperor quickly turned. Two of the guards fell noisily to the floor having been stabbed in the back of the neck. All of the remaining guards turned to the direction the noise had came from and pulled out their swords.
“Zonren I should have realised”, the Emperor said, as the guards approached the group. Moving his hands the emperor fired lighting at Zonren, leaving the guards to deal with the others.
Zonren easily defend the lighting, and the next attack a fireball. He heard the clash of the battle, but blocked it out, to concentrate on a spell. Easily Zonren defended the incoming attacks.
“Death”, the Emperor said, as a mist formed behind him.
Zonren held off the effects of the spell, but bent forward like it was having an effect. The mist behind the emperor formed two large arms. However the emperor continue his death spell. Zonren felt the effects of the death spell, weakening him.
The arms encircled the emperor and started to crash him. A tail quickly wrapped around the legs of the ruler.
Zonren felt the death spell suddenly weaken in strength and dissipate. He quickly moved forward and touched the emperor.
The emperor heard the words of an old spell, and suddenly realised what was about to happen. His flesh quickly heated up, and the smell of his own flesh burning went up his burning nose. Bones and ashes fell to the floor, as the emperor’s flesh was incinerated. The beast of the air dissipated.
“Captain your Emperor is a pile of bones” Zonren said as beast of the air dissipated.
The captain noticing the pile of bones, did not defend quickly enough an incoming attack. Shadric landing a blow to the captain’s shoulder.
One of the remaining two guards was stabbed through the mouth, the sword penetrating right though the head, and breaking the back of the skull.
The other guard received a blow to the head, and fell to the ground.
“surrender captain” Zonren said as he approached the captain. The captain dropped his sword, and looked at Zonren.
“There is no point killing you, Shadric, come on lets go”
“Ever thought of being Emperor?” Shadric asked Zonren.
“No, someone is always wanting to kill the emperor”
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