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May 05, 14 at 2:20am ^Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
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At times, a character might find themselves pursuing a target that is a person (or creature) themselves, for one reason or another. From a fearsome dragon whose lair is difficult to reach, to a sadistic killer on the loose with an unknown identity, to collecting a bounty on someone's head and more, the situations and motives can vary immensely. Do you intend to slay the dragon to stop it terrorising the surrounding lands, to claim its treasure as your own, or a little of both or something else? Whatever you reason and whatever your target of choice, you'll have to find them, reach them, and deal with them. The hunt is on.
Following are rules and guidelines on entries:
Entries will be accepted up until 2 weeks from today (Monday the 19th of May). After this, there is a 1 week voting period up to Monday the 26th of May, during which duelists will pick their top 3 entries. Once votes are added up the 3 top scorers win prizes.
Entries may be made any time from the time of posting this until the 19th of May. Submissions are added to the first post, although a duelist may change or withdraw their entry prior to the deadline, if they desire. Once the deadline passes changes can no longer be made.
During the voting stage each duelist in the NDL - whether or not they entered the challenge - may PM me a vote listing their first, second, and third picks for best entry by duelist name. Any PMs without all 3 picks will not be counted. Duelists who do not vote will, themselves, not be eligible to win, so if you do submit an entry, do your part to help out and vote as well. Each first place pick will grant a duelist 3 points in the contest, second place 2 points and third place just 1 point, and you cannot vote for yourself. The top 3 entries win prizes.
In keeping with tradition, the prizes in this challenge are hidden by code-names, with their true nature revealed once the contest is over.
The Big Catch
The Useful Hint
The Intriguing Pursuit
All duelists who vote will be put into a raffle for a medal.
quote Aulis Vaara
quote Selig Hecht
quote Scott Cee
quote Al The Killer
quote Bale Fire
Edit: May 27, 14 8:31pm
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May 06, 14 at 1:15am ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
The dark night was intruded upon by the two electric lights in front of the museum of antiquity. There were oil lanterns vying for attention further down the street, but their luminosity could not compete, no matter how clear their casings.
Mary Stanley made sure to stick to the darkness across the street, gripping the kitchen knife in her hand to the point of whitening her knuckles. From her position she observed the hooded figure at the entrance to the museum. She had been following him since bedtime, when she had perchance taken notice of him outside on the street under an oil lamp. In an act of familiar rashness, she had grabbed the nearest weapon and quietly snuck out to follow the scoundrel. Four murders in four days, and Mary was quite certain that this man was the culprit.
After struggling for a time with the door, the villain made his way inside the museum, only throwing a quick glance into the darkness behind him. Despite, or perhaps because of, the electric lights his face was still hidden in shadows.
Not wasting any time, Mary hurried after the man, pulling the door open as inaudibly as she could. Nevertheless it made an audible click that seemed to echo through the hallway ahead of her. That echo was soon followed by audible running footstep. Mary almost cursed, but that was language unbecoming to a nun, so she bit her tongue instead and set in the pursuit quietly.
The museum was dark. Mary was not accustomed to being out at night and thus was not used to walking in a straight line based on feeling alone. She almost crashed into a few display cases, but a few useful reflective glints on the display cases made her stop in her tracks before she did so. After the third time of narrowly avoiding making a loud crash into a display case, the footsteps of the hooded rogue stopped entirely.
Mary tried to keep in mind where she had heard the footsteps last, but the gloom made it nigh on impossible to do so.
A bit of luck, whether good or bad is a judgement for others to make, came her way when an invisible doorway on her left gave Mary a view on a greenish light peeking around the corner there. Taking two more steps forward, Mary stood at the corner of the hallway, getting a more thorough view on the strange green light. There was something stomach turning about the light, though Mary could not make out what that was. There was just something off, some small detail that she was not really aware of.
Swallowing her nerves, Mary pulled herself along toward the light, the source of which was yet hidden around the corner. If her knuckles were white before, her whole hand was, now. Unexpectedly, she did not tremble.
With a large step she rounded the corner, knife held in front for protection. Before her, in the midst of a display of classical deities hung an aperture, fringed by an unearthly green light. Though the center was nothing but darkness, Mary knew that the unholy aperture was a breach into another realm. A godless realm that served as a haven for the madman that had killed four people in four days. Though stepping through might cost her her life, Mary was overcome with the same sense of duty that had seen her father off to war in the fields of Flanders half a dozen years ago.
The other side was a large circular wall interrupted by towers at regular intervals. The stones used to build the wall were large square builders like the ones used in ages past. The floor of the walkway was made of some sort of smooth stone, either granite or marble.
There was no green light coming from behind her, no aperture in the air to allow her passage back through. Full of determination, she turned back around to the murderer who stood overlooking whatever the wall surrounded.
"Welcome, sister of the dark," the man spoke. "These are the towers of princes." Finally the man turned around, lowering his hood. His face was sunken, his eyes sewn shut and his open mouth glowed with the same green eeriness that had allowed her access to this place. "They are trapped here. Trapped by the darkness beneath us. Unwilling to confront it, they are forced to stay and slowly wither," he explained as if she had asked for it. "Not like us. You and me, we accost the darkness and embrace it."
Mary just took it in for a moment, gathering her courage. Wordlessly she surged forward, burying the knife in the murderers chest and taking them both over the edge, plunging into the darkness below.
799 words, 800 if you include the title. I hope you don't mind that I invented a new character for this.
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May 11, 14 at 9:38pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
Once upon a time, a terrible fiend was said to inhabit a mountain enshrouded by mist. It was said the beast guarded the treasure of eternal youth, which would only be granted to the person who took one of the brute’s eye for themselves. It would then disappear for a century for generations to pass. It was a vicious cycle of one claiming the fiend's eye, a hundred year wait for it to reappear and another human to do the same… No matter how many fell in their attempts.
But a tale would only be just that, a tale.
Now at the present, a cloudy morning over the vast highland region. Noctal stood somewhere around the upper side of a mountain, proudly staring far into the distance while clearing his throat. He breathed in deeply, taking in as much air as he could and then…
“ECHO! Echo! Echo!” He shouted as loudly as he could, coughing heavily shortly afterwards “Oh deary me… that felt better than I could ever imagine.” He said while laughing. “This may have been completely pointless, and I might have wasted time climbing this high up the sharpened piece of earth…” Noctal turned around, facing the path back down smugly “But I’d damn myself forever if I didn't accomplish this when I could!”
After doing that he walked back down the rugged trail to a lower point of the mountain, where he was originally supposed to be and continued his travels.
Out wading through the mist on the rocky roads, Noctal thought to himself “What was the client’s request again? Ah yes…” Noctal bit on a biscuit “He wanted unique monster hide to make a whip so that he… may be punished with it. How pleasant…”
”If I recall, he wanted the hide from the mountain beast residing here since he had a similar experience before with a different whip made with special means… And he wants to capture that “sweet stingin’ magic” once again…” Noctal sighed “Some clients can indeed be quite unique…”
”Regardless, the hunt must continue. If I’m remembering my path correctly…” And so he went along the barren trails, maneuvering through the perilous pathways and steep ridges. Occasionally he rested for a short few hours to regain stamina, and it was strangely safe due to an odd lack of wildlife. Sometimes the huntsman almost lost his way and at times almost fell to his death… But, he eventually made it to the heart of the highlands.
From what little Noctal could gather, it seemed to be an open area. He went on to search for his destination, a cave of sorts. “I wonder how the client knew the exact beast to get the hide from… Or why from this one, of all things.” He took a sip from a water flask “Well, I suppose it matters little as long as I get my payment. But it is still quite a curious case…”
After wandering around for a while Noctal neared what resembled an isolated mountain. Perhaps he was now at the very middle of the entire region… Or he lost his way.
He circled the base of the peak, though he couldn’t see much he noticed that this mountain was different from the rest, it was charred in color. Eventually, the huntsman discovered a hole leading inside the mountain. It wasn’t exactly a cave, but it was better to go in and check than to senselessly stumble around like a lost child.
The inside of the cave-like area was dark and much colder than outside. The air felt off, it was both unsettlingly empty yet thick with dread. The atmosphere made Noctal stay on guard and move cautiously; there was no telling what could jump out at him in a split second.
After a while of striding through the dark, Noctal reached an illuminated cavern with a peculiar sight laid before him. “What… in the world?”
In the cavern was a large rotting corpse that lacked both eyes. The huntsman decided to examine the body “This might just be the mountain beast... But I don’t believe that rotten hide would do good… The body looks ancient, to the point of having no color and most of its flesh has rotted away… One must wonder what exactly took place here…” He then touched the dead beast “The skin is still quite strong… It might suffice, but I’m certain the payment would be reduced.”
Noctal sighed as he unsheathed his sword “Might as well should present the client with something at the least…” He skinned a portion of the fiend's hide and put it into a sack.
The huntsman then left the cavern and headed out to leave the highlands… What happened to the terrible fiend was a tale best left untold.
Word Count be 798
Fly into the burning sky and ROLLING THUNDER RIDE!
Go into the stormy night I can't stop BURNING HEART!
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The last Tyen
total posts: 5439
since: May 2010
May 13, 14 at 7:24am ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
Revenge was something that Clief had thrown away a long time ago. It was a word he'd pushed to the back of his mind, never forgetting his past, but not letting it control him either. He'd disappeared from the world 5 years ago, bringing the death of 'The Calamity' with him, secluded himself to focus on something more important; a chance to atone for his sins. His past was apart of who he was, but his memories were no longer a driving force like they were back then, now it was the future.
Clief had a personal mission to take care of, one that he had promised himself he would fulfil 5 years ago. He was going to restore the world's balance, destroying the corruption in Human society, and openly opposing the Cartaha, hopefully causing all anti factions around the world to follow suit. He made this promise to himself after 2 major events happened, both of which he would never forgive himself for. He would never deviate from this mission, not for anything, or at least that's what he thought.
He had a chance to eliminate some high end Cartaha leaders who had entrenched themselves in the Human democratic system. It was a one off opportunity, something that needed to be done. This would be the turning point that shifted the world onto his side, it was the single most important chance he had since returning from seclusion a few months ago. But he'd just found a lead on someone that was shaking his resolve. A single word, a single name, that could shatter Clief's unending resolve. Cotib.
He had found a lead on his whereabouts a few days ago, but it was some distance away from where he needed to be. This was man that had caused him great suffering. This was the man that had no regard for anyone else. This was a man that Clief hated with every fibre of his being. He had murdered Sarah, Clief's closest friend since the end of the war. He had struck her down while the Tyen had been beaten and was helpless to save her. He had caused so much despair for Clief, that he had created what would be forever known as 'The Calamity'.
Clief's unending resolve had been dispersed by a tiny bit of information, that he had completely lost sight of his promise. As soon as he'd heard the information, he'd left to confront the man. It didn't take much to get to him, after all, he had a lot of people supporting his cause, even if they were hiding it.
The Tyen, while shaking, had been standing in front of a door to a cabin. The cabin was very familiar to him, it haunted his dreams. It was this place that caused everything, like a domino effect cascading from one thing to another. He'd been standing there with his hand on the door knob for a few minutes, knowing the man he'd despised for so long was behind it. He'd confirmed it with his own eyes, watching him enter the building. Clief had wanted this moment for so long, he'd not only dreamt it, he'd lived it.
With a cold sweat, he turned the knob and pushed the wooden door open. It was a little darker in the room, but enough light to show him a person sitting in front of him. The man that haunted him for so long was sitting in a chair before him, a large grin on his face.
“I've been waiting for you for some time now. I'm glad to see you've recovered quite well from back then.”
“Shut up! You know why I'm so stand up! I have no time for chit chat!” Clief burst out.
“Very well, if you insist. I had wanted to talk for a bit, but if you're so hasty to get started, then show me the fruits of your labours.”
Clief immediately materialised his Crystal sword and got ready to fight his nightmare, to bring himself closure; to get revenge.
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May 13, 14 at 6:23pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
“You enjoy the hunts for the sake of the hunt. You enjoy the game. It’s over too quickly otherwise, and you have to find a new toy to play with once it’s ended. So savor it.”
Selig, for once, was dressed in normal clothing. He wore blue jeans, a t-shirt, and some regular old tennis shoes. He didn’t look anything special at all, especially in such a busy town where crowds of people all moved at once. Which might have also made tracking difficult if the one he sought didn’t have a small child on her shoulders.
They were both small people for their age. She was probably in her late twenties, and the kid was very young. She barely touched five and a half feet. Her son would have been the runt in any class. His messy blonde hair, stuck straight up, wouldn’t make him taller than a large breed of dog.
Selig scratched his temple, watching them for any signs of turning off the sidewalk while keeping a healthy distance between. They normally walked home from the boy’s school just like this, smiling, maybe talking about his day, but mostly they stayed quiet and watched the crowd.
They approached a series of apartments. Selig watched from afar like he had done for days. The little boy pushed the button to get the dad to answer, the mom fumbled with the handle on the door that would baffle anyone who hadn’t had experience with it, and they were in.
Selig checked the time on the bank up the road. She would start dinner in about an hour, after they had helped the kid with homework. 3rd story, 2nd apartment to the left when you walked out of the elevator. His favorite drink was the blue kool-aid, never the red. They didn’t have pets but the dad had recently pitched getting a dog, and they spoke about it on the weekends while their boy was asleep. It was akin to clockwork.
Selig’s eyes fell from the glow of the light in their apartment as the sun faded and nighttime approached. He sat outside a coffee shop sipping a cup of hot black, the only thing he could afford with pennies and a smile, and monitored the streets.
The family wasn’t going to have guests that night, they never did, but he wanted to make sure nobody was going to mess things up.
Then something odd happened. Or, rather, someone odd happened. Someone he’d never seen before approached the door to the building and fumbled with the handle. There was a keypad in addition to the buzzer, and he quickly popped the code in before going back to work out the doorknob.
Selig didn’t rise immediately. He took another sip of the dreg in his cup and watched a moment until the man slipped in. Then he shot up like lightning and made his way across the street.
The door always closed slowly because of the broken hydraulics, and it gave Selig enough time to slip his fingers in to keep it from closing completely. He winced; it was a heavy door no less. But he pushed it open quietly and peered up the stairs directly in front of him, at the man scooting up them with a lump in his pocket. A gun shaped lump.
Selig wasn’t one for quiet, but the man was so in thrall with whatever possessed him that he didn’t notice a thing. Still, Selig crept up as subtly as he could. 3rd floor, elevator on the right….
The man turned left and Selig was on him. His massive hands wrapped around his face to silence him, and his torso to pin his arms. He didn’t struggle much, but tried, felt the strength of the grip and decided to save his energy for when he would need it later. This was as profound to Selig as a gunshot, like the one that tore through the back of his leg. Selig hissed. He’d missed it. The second meathead, of course there were more than one! Sarah had mentioned it to him when she hired him. The local gang was stupid, but not stupid enough to send one guy in to finish a job.
He broke the neck of the one in his arms and threw himself and his captive backwards down the stairs, tackling the other before he could get off another shot. They tumbled down together to the second landing where Selig made quick and painful work of them both. Everyone poured out of their apartments in panic, except for the family Selig had been hired to watch. They did the smart thing and kept their heads down when they heard trouble.
“Payday…” Selig grinned, one of a string of odd jobs finally complete.
How hard could it be? ~JC
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May 14, 14 at 2:07pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
“Nobody,” growled Jessica Ames as she clawed her way out of the burning ruin. “Nobody burns down a church in my town, especially one with me in it!”
There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of a few loose stones skittering down the side of what had been, until a few moments before, a fairly modern Anglican church. A hand emerged and was, as Jessica grasped it and hauled, followed shortly by the rest of Natty Weeks.
“You burned down that one last week,” said Natty, in a tone of voice that Jessica registered as being offensively reasonable.
“That was full of those Farsider cultists – creepy, robe-wearing bastards seeking to bring about the downfall of mankind by summoning up hideously tentacled whatevers from... wherever.”
“The Farside, possibly,” said Natty, unheard.
Jessica was staring speculatively after something in the sky. Something very large that was moving very quickly, and that was already a long way off. “You might want to get out of town for a few days, Natty,” she said without looking round.
Clad now in dully gleaming gunmetal grey armour, armour so technologically advanced that it could easily be mistaken for magical, Jessica Ames – the Gunmetal Grey ArmaRanger - plodded along the central reservation of the dual carriageway.
Vehicles had been abandoned by their drivers and left where they had stopped in the miles long traffic jam that stretched all the way from the centre of the city. Every couple of hundred metres was a collection of cars that had been reduced to blackened and still smoking husks by some intense but short-lived heat.
And then Jessica was flattened into the grass by immense downward force, a sudden burst of ultra-high pressure that arrived with a sound like a towel on a washing line snapping in the wind, but amplified a thousand times.
Something roared. Something roaring sounded like a foghorn in severe distress crossed with the boom-arm of a crane just before it gives way to years of rust and metal fatigue. Something roaring sounded quite, but not exactly, like Godzilla. Godzilla with a bad throat infection.
Jessica looked up in time to see a dragon, the dragon, flap its enormous wings again and bank left. It was impossibly graceful for a creature so large. It was about a hundred feet long, covered in what had to be tonnes of bony armoured plating and miscellaneous spikes and horns, but could manoeuvre through the air with no greater difficulty than could a swallow.
Also, it could breathe fire, as it now did. Another section of motorway went up in a ball of fire as petrol tanks ruptured and exploded, tires vaporised and sheet metal bent and twisted. Rising though the flames on the thermal updraft thus created, the dragon sailed on through the sky, untroubled.
“You’re damn right it’s an anomaly,” said Jessica, getting to her feet. “A bloody great flying lizard is setting fire to my city.” She pointed towards the icon ArmaNet had helpfully placed over the dragon. “Zone call that target.”
“Th- th-this,” managed the Grey ArmaRanger while being bodily jolted from side to side, “is not what ‘z-z-zone c-call’ m-means! And-nd it-t’s exhaust-tinng!”
At this height above the streets, Jessica could see the path of destruction the dragon had left in its wake - and follow it with a distance-eating stride helped by the fact that the Gunmetal Grey armour was now a Gunmetal Grey Knight that measured more than eighty feet tall.
Ensconced safely within the heavily armoured chest, Jessica was labouring hard in some kind of motion-capture-inspired nightmare of rods and linkages.
Car alarms went off and windows shattered at the ArmaKnight’s mere passage. Concrete and tarmac cracked under its feet. Shoddily constructed buildings or those with inadequate foundations, of which there appeared to be rather a lot in this part of the city, collapsed altogether.
The dragon was turning lazy circles in the air, its great horse-y head following the progress of the only moving object of a similar size to itself in the city, smouldering yellow eyes narrowed.
Jessica raised her right arm and sighted along it, the same motions repeated by the ArmaKnight on a much greater scale. “Harpoon!”
A barbed spear, a dozen feet long, shot out of the launcher embedded in the ArmaKnight’s arm, uncoiling high-tensile-strength wire uncoiling behind it. This time the attack landed on target, the head of the spear embedding itself deep in the dragon’s armoured hide.
“Get over here,” yelled Jessica, hauling on the wire, looping it around her elbow and palm to take the slack as the dragon futilely beat its wings and spewed fire in all directions.
She pulled it down to street level, stood on its wings and choked the life out of it.
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May 18, 14 at 2:24pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
Raphius moved through the undergrowth of the forest, his senses alert, sword held readily in one hand at his side. It was a more exotic woodland than he usually saw, almost tropical in its varied flora, one of the surprises he had encountered since coming to this region. Blooms of crimson and lavender spotted his surroundings, like the work of a vandal unsatisfied with the uniform greens of foliage and brown tree bark. It was quite picturesque, he thought, but he couldn't spare the focus to give them due admiration.
The task at hand weighed on his mind. Shortly after arriving at the local branch of the order, one he had not visited before, he was made aware of a recent issue. Over the last week or so, some of the farmers outside the town had found a member of their livestock slaughtered, the extent of damage suggesting a predator, and a large one. Since the first incident it had grown into an almost daily occurrence, a matter that, alongside damage to the fencing and escaped cattle was already riling up anger. Then, yesterday, a body had been discovered, a human one. By the discharged weapon he was still holding, it appeared he had caught the creature in the act and confronted it, without success. Anger boiled into an open fury.
Raphius had offered to find the beast himself out of mounting concern. The farmers were certain it dwelt in the forest, and were considering a burning campaign to root out and slay it. Animosity between them and those that opposed such drastic measures was rising sharply, and Raphius had been granted only one day of patience before debate resumed. This was that day, and the sun blazed high in the noon sky.
The vagrant did not relish this deed, yet he felt he could not sway the creature's fate, and could only act to minimise the collateral cost of its extermination. A subtle rustle drew his attention, muscles tensing as he swung to its origin. He had come upon a slain animal an hour ago, with wounds resembling those suffered by the cattle, an assuring yet troubling sight. More than once he had paused due to movement of a creature revealed to be far too small to be the beast. Raphius squinted his eyes. Was this another-
Abruptly a large and dark shape burst from the leaves with a furious roar. The swordsman was only able to make out a lithe four-legged form before he was rolling through the dirt out of the path of its lunge, a grazing swipe leaving tears in his robe and the tingle of brief contact. He came up in a crouch and large clawed paws were flying towards him. Raphius ducked and turned his head as they lashed out at it, the middle of the limb clubbing his skull dazingly as the claws missed, and he whipped out his sword in a blind effort at retaliation. An unfamiliar and angry yowl sounded in front of him and he heard the creature back off reflexively, Raphius scrambling back and to his feet as he finally got a clear look at the animal.
It was some kind of chimera, sleek black fur with feathered plumes coating the body of a jungle cat, but a large, proud avian beak adorning its face. It had the stature of a lion, and its yellow eyes followed the vagrant's sword as it prowled side to side, hissing at him in almost reptilian fashion and leaping again. It was ferociously fast, the vagrant narrowly darting back as it swept seemingly to disarm him. It took another shot at him and he evaded it again, but was rapidly running out of room to do so in the press of trees and bushes. Without time to formulate a strategy he swung to meet the next blow, blade against talons. The beast yelped as its flesh was cut, but the impact sent Raphius' sword flying into the brush.
It hobbled for a second at most as it favoured the injury, and then lunged at its disarmed prey. Raphius was out of options, and focused on his fist and drove it forwards as the creature bore him to the ground.
There was an agonised cry, the sword he had materialised in his grasp sunk right to the hilt through the creature's torso. Raphius clambered from under its bulk, withdrawing his blade as mercifully as he could. He looked down at it, panting heavily. Its eyes held no hostility now, only pain as it writhed feebly. Raphius was aware he could only do one thing for it. Its eyes shut with an almost intelligent awareness as he placed his sword over its head. "I'm sorry" he muttered sincerely, and thrust down.
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|Al The Killer||
May 18, 14 at 3:37pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
Silence shivered, the frigid air biting him. He had been tracking the vigilante for days. This man had given him and his Guild so much trouble in the past year, constantly being two steps ahead of them.
The Black Blade.
A voice crackled in on the radio. It was Audio.
"Silence, he should be in the building directly ahead of you. Be careful, we don't really know what we're dealing with, here." Audio was right. They didn't know much about The Blade.
"I'm ready." He simply said, looking at the abandoned factory ahead of him. The decrepit building had once been a refinery for the city. With Audio City moving towards cleaner sources of fuel, it had been closed down and privately owned. Seems like it had new residence in that time period.
He crouched low, moving quickly into the dark building. He put his goggles on, cycling through the available options. The night vision clicked on, iluminating the area.
The floors and walls were very clean, signaling that someone had definitely been here in the past few days. Silence quickly reaching into his cube, setting a trip wire at the door. He poured salt and iron around the door as well, preventing anything demonic from entering or leaving from that door.
He moved quickly through the widearea, looking for his target. Not quite paying attention to where he was, he stepped on something soft.
Looking down, it was a mattress. That's odd... He though to himself. It appeared he was possibly using this as a safehouse, but why would he-
*THWAP* A heavy punch knocked Silence to the ground. He felt someone grab him by his jacket and toss him into some crates.
His ears ringing, Silence quickly blocked anouther punch, jabbing the assailant in the face. A loud clang followed the punch, and he knew he had found his target.
"Stop! By the order of the Huntsmen Guild of Audio City, you're under arrest for-" He blocked another punch. "Okay, be that way, then!" The man dodged back from a sweeping kick.
"..." The man simply stretched for a second, motioning for the fight to continue as he took his blade out. Silence followed him, taking out his halberd.
The two met quickly, halberd meeting blade. Silence reacted first, knocking him back with a gust of wind. The man held tight, reamining quiet. He flexed his hand, a grappling hook pulling a catwalk down. He was trying to escape!
Silence quickly jumped up after him. "Stop! I'm not done with you-"
A flash. Silence fell to the ground, blinded.
He awoke hours later, just outside of the district he was in before. He couldn't remember the location of the building.
All he knew is that next time, the Blade would his.
(Really short, I know, but yeah.)
Al The Killer: Hot Mom Aligned Emerging Moderator and Gatherer of Literature
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May 19, 14 at 1:30am ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
The child fled through the forest as though the apocalypse itself was at his back. He pushed himself to the point that each breath felt like a stab in the lungs, and then he pushed himself further. Distance, that was the key. Behind him he could hear the beast, its size making it audible with every step. He sneaked a peak behind him.
The creature looked right back, an eager expression upon its face. It appeared as though an overgrown bear had went wrong at some point in its evolution and promptly died, only to rise once more. Its only goal was clear, to catch the child. The boy ran faster.
He tripped and fell. The ground was sloped, his small tumble quickly turned into a roll. It was painful, but it gave him just a bit more speed. He did his best to dodge trees, though in his predicament all he had going for him was blind luck. He reached flat ground once more and fell forward onto the dirt and grass of the woods. From above him he heard what sounded like a howl forced through vocal cords that were not meant for such noises.
He got up and saw that his pants were torn, his knees scraped and covered in brown. There was little time for concern though, he needed to get moving. He looked around for any possible hiding place. His eyes soon came upon a corpse seemingly sitting against a tree, a dagger sticking out of its back. It turned to look up at him, its face nearly skeletal, its eyes glowing a pale blue. A decayed hand rose and pointed to a tree near its resting spot, a small hole in it, just large enough to fit a child.
The crunching of leaves and twigs removed any hesitation the boy had, he scrambled inside the hide away. He looked back to the corpse to express some form of gratitude, but the withered body just brought a finger to its lips, giving a silent call to hush.
Mere seconds later the beast arrived. It paused in slight confusion as it was sure its prey was within reach. It looked to the now still body, a curious expression on it face. It prodded it a few times with its might paws, but no response came forth. It began to pace around the area, a heavy breathing noise emanating from its throat.
The boy watched this as silently as he could, his nerves at being so nearly caught causing him to shake with tension. His hands were firmly over his mouth, so that no stray bit of air would give him away. The beast paused as if considering things, before turning away and running off into the woods. It took everything the child had not to sigh in relief.
He wondered how long he should wait before exiting. Such thoughts soon left him as he heard a heavy thump. The tree he was in cracked, and then it groaned. His shadowy place of respite became illuminated by the sun as the top half of the tree fell back under the beast's strength. Its eyes focused on him.
The child considered trying to make a break for it, but he knew there was no point. He had already lost. The beast opened its mouth and leaned in.
And licked him across the face.
Krad Rats giggled, "Brutis stop that." This only encouraged further licking. "Its getting all over me." One final lick and his hair was slicked back by saliva. "Alright you got me, you got me. Now it's my turn!" The large zombified bear gave the closest it could to an excited bark before running off into the forest.
Krad began to count, "One, two, three..."
False hope leads to true despair, watch how quickly white turns to black.
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May 20, 14 at 7:08am ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
A Quick Chase
Like a lazy fish, Chase floated over the many ridges and rifts that comprised the coral reef. His kicks were slow and deliberate, each stroke a carefully measured action, propelling him that much further across the ocean’s surface. With the sun high in the sky and only a slight breeze coming in from the East, the weather was perfect. Able to see hundreds of fish swimming through the clear blue waters beneath him, Chase would continually stop, observe those closest to him, and then continue. Clearly he was searching for something.
That something was a Silver-Finned Lancet, a particularly rare type of fish that could only be found in a handful of locations around the world. Its meat being a prized delicacy, for a time they had been highly sought after by fishermen and trawlers. But as their numbers dwindled, Meliana, goddess of the seas, had intervened. She had imposed a restriction. The Silver-Finned Lancet could only be hunted and consumed for a single day each year. Anyone who was discovered doing otherwise would be severely punished.
That day was today. As the newest initiate at the temple, it was Chase who had been tasked with hunting the rare fish. His success was not guaranteed. If he did manage to secure a catch, all of the disciples of Meliana would share it, eating the fish alongside bread and fruits. If he failed, then everyone in the temple would fast until the same time tomorrow. Many considered it a lesson on the nature of the ocean. It was not predictable.
Swimming around a curve in the reef, it was then that Chase suddenly spotted it. Tucked in between two growths of red and yellow coral was the fish that he was looking for. Easily the size of his arm, the creature was distinctive. Its body was sleek, and its scales so reflective that to look at it directly was almost painful. Reaching behind his back, Chase pulled free the spear he had been given. Although he was not an expert, every servant of Meliana knew the basics of how to catch a fish.
With an intake of breath, Chase dived.
Startled by the sudden burst of movement, all of the marine life around him scattered. The fish went in all directions, a rainbow of vibrant colours. Crabs scuttled under rocks and into holes, disappearing from sight. But Chase didn’t care about them, he had eyes only for the Silver-Finned Lancet. Abandoning its nibbling of the coral, the fish sped away from him, as quick as a flash of light. Despite this, Chase kept pace with it. His simple brown clothes clung to him like a second skin, the muscles on arms and legs propelling him downwards with surprising force. His quickness only increased as he made use of his goddess’s blessing, manipulating the water around him to increase his speed and manoeuvrability.
The chase was short but intense. The Lancet swam around some rocks, darted through some seaweed and kicked up a cloud of dust as it sped out along the ocean floor. Spear still in hand, Chase closed the distance, readying his weapon. With one quick thrust, it was over. A small gush of blood, a little twitching, and then the fish was dead. A look of regret briefly took hold of Chase’s face, feeling a little guilty that he had killed such a magnificent looking creature just for its meat. Still, it was the way of nature. Not a bit of the Silver-Finned Lancet would go to waste, he and the other disciples at the temple would see to that.
Bubbles streaming from his mouth, Chase rose to the surface. The fish still impaled on his spear, he emerged from the ocean only slightly out of breath. Seeing the small boat he had left tied to a nearby rock, he swam towards it, climbing up onto the craft. Seeing several other fishermen on the outskirts of the coral reef, Chase stopped briefly to offer them a prayer of fair travels. Without any further delay, he turned the boat in the direction of the temple, prize in hand.
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May 20, 14 at 2:30pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
The prowls have been prowled, the stalkers have stalked - who will find what (or who) they're looking for?
Voting is open for one week up until Monday the 26th of May. To vote, send a PM to me, Fyrestorm, listing your first, second and third place choices. Use the voting template below, and fill out all 3 spaces.
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May 27, 14 at 7:00am ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
Some say that the more difficult the hunt, the more rewarding the catch. Others like fast food deliveries.
While the last WC was awesome in a special way, this one was great in a more normal yet still happily kickass fashion. The theme was basically suggested by one of the members, people entered it over the course of the 2 week window and in the end we got a nice healthy total, virtually everything I love to see in a normal monthly contest . I even feel like I did a pretty good job judging the word limit, slash all of you did a fine job working to it, hehehe, so well done all of us. Now, as usual, the top 3 podium placers:
Spoiler:The Big Catch
Bale Fire: 7 Points
Spoiler:The Useful Hint
Scott Cee: 8 Points
Spoiler:The Intriguing Pursuit
finalfight: 10 Points
The Prizes Revealed
(Names will not be used for this post so as not to spoil the surprise if you scroll down too far by mistake. See spoilers for the results.)
As the journeyed hunters return, hauling their varied prey, we see who came out on top with their catch.
One person's find is a curious thing, not overly grandly impressive, but fascinating, and so to is the tale they tell of The Intriguing Pursuit it gave them. A story engaging enough to gain the Featured Post spot.
Someone else returns seemingly empty-handed, but appearances can be deceiving, for their quarry is a grand one, and The Useful Hint they uncovered invaluable for their progress, granting them 2 rank points.
Yet another comes up a winner with The Big Catch, a result that puts all others to shame at a glance. It garners them fame and the accompanying wealth for the deed, 3 full coins coming into their possession.
Last but not least, among those trading tales of their valiant hunts, Bale Fire earns a medal for his effort.
Better late than never ? Apologies for the delay and thanks to everyone who took part more punctually!
Edit: May 27, 14 9:20pm
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The last Tyen
total posts: 5439
since: May 2010
May 27, 14 at 8:05am ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
Oh my god Fyrestorm your so not funny!! I was fully expecting to get a podium finish because I wasnt tagged in that post. Get to the post and utter disappointment haha.
You giveth, and you taketh away.
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May 27, 14 at 9:25pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
Clief apologies for the wait there friend . Although for the record I don't tend to notify people whether they place or don't, to my knowledge . Anyway, it's up now, much thanks to all who entered it !
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May 27, 14 at 11:04pm ^re: Writing Challenge: The Hunt (Judging Phase)
I am disappoint that I had to edit most of the actual fight out of my entry. But second place ain't bad. Thanks, voters.
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