Bucky, The Apprentice Scrivener
October 2016 - Spooky Story Contest - The NON-Shamed - Steve24833 & Malkalack & ugilick & Lampmandnando
December 2016 - Ballad Contest - Overall Winner - pugpup1 ; Traditional Winner - Romulus
Generic Warning - For
immature mature audiences only.
I fired the ridiculous cannon up for this one and took it up to eleven.
This project has lingered untouched in my trunk for nearly a year now. Originally intended to be a short work, it grew big and fat in my notes, and was then later locked away and ignored. Life happens. Anyway, I pulled it from the graveyard and decided to patchwork the dangling ends together.
Play through the heroic or not so heroic adventures of a Cliché knight hero! There are a series of three endings for the knight that I considered canon when I first drafted the story. These unlock the first pages of what were intended to be the other hero paths of wizard, prince and spunky girl (along with some bonus troll material). If enough people enjoy the knight's story, I'd be open to reinvesting in the project and adding one or all of them on as an expansion. Each would play as its own separate story, so don't worry, there is a full and complete story in here.
The work, however, is raw - often intentionally so. And while the 'canon' endings unlock the bonus material, there really is no winning and losing. You just do better or worse.
That said, this is a fragment of the monster that lies in my notes, coming in at a little over 22k words. I feel comfortable saying there are a few chuckles in here, so I think if it brightens one person's day then it was worth publishing.
All comments, both mean and kind, are appreciated. Enjoy.
A mildly disturbing result of my attempts to learn my way around the editor. I dabbled a bit in basic html as well. The game functions mostly as a USA State Capitals quiz with a simple combat element. I put in a bit of a backstory, surrounding the quiz, and something mildly disturbing may happen if you die...
While this has little literary merit; hopefully, you may learn something.
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Little Emma sat with her parents at a riverside bistro on a glorious sunny day in the dying throes of summer in Hamburg, Germany. She had the bright blue eyes and light blond hair that Hitler used to kill for. Mama said her grandfather had them too, but he was a quarter Jew. And Hitler did kill him.
Papa scowled as he read the morning paper. "Honey, I was only joking a few months ago when I suggested moving to Norway, but if things don't change, I'm going to start meaning it."
"What's wrong Daddy?" asked Emma, covering her mouth, still half full of biscuits and gravy.
"Nothing, Sweetie," said Mama, kissing Emma on the cheek. She turned to Papa, tone darker. "We can talk about it later."
"No. She needs to know." Papa folded the paper and frowned. "The German people spend too much time hiding from the truth. Both our own and others. Some people are just bad. The filthy sand-"
A big hole opened in Papa's head. And blood splattered the table. Screams and gunshots filled the air. On instinct Emma turned toward the source of the noise, even as tears welled in her eyes.
A sand man with a diaper on his head fired round after round into the crowd. Through the din, he bellowed, "Alhamdulillah!"
Mama grabbed Emma from behind and tossed her over the terrace. As Emma tumbled toward the river, Mama attempted to leap after her. The little girl saw the shrapnel rip into her mother's back before she heard the boom. Then she plunged into the water, desperately wishing she lived in Norway, far from the filthy sand people.