ninjapitka, The Dramatist

Member Since

6/11/2018

Last Activity

10/19/2019 11:42 AM

EXP Points

745

Post Count

337

Storygame Count

2

Duel Stats

9 wins / 10 losses

Order

Marauder

Commendations

117

I found myself lost in the CYS epics and even though I'm more of a reader than a writer, I wanted to create my own.

Check out my first two published games below. Please leave a comment or message me with your opinion.

Book I'm currently reading: The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky

My favorite video games in order are the Fallout Series, League of Legends, The Elder Scrolls, Pillars of Eternity, Guild Wars 2, and The Witcher 3.

Trophies Earned

Earning 100 Points Earning 500 Points Having 1 Storygame(s) Featured

Storygames

The King's Command

The Providence of Kria consists of two major nations: The Kingdom of Brelia and the tribal territory of Rath. The ten-year peace between Brelia and Rath is quickly unraveling. In attempt to prevent another war, heir to the throne of Brelia, Prince Urijah, is sent on a diplomatic mission to appeal to the Rathans. In your older brother's absence, the burden of defending the kingdom falls to you. Your choices will determine the fate of the kingdom.

Runner-up for Corgi's Unofficial Contest: The Lords of the Land.



9/1/19 Update: Corrected a few punctuation errors

Featured Story Twin Arrows

1852 - The Territory of New Mexico

The hunt has taken me to to the outer edges of civilization. Out here, lawlessness abides. There are no godly folk. Only heathen. The inner demon in me can relate to the call of anarchy. No rules, being bound by nothing; it sounds like freedom. In the end, that "freedom" is simply the self-indulgent, care-free living that is a poison upon humanity. If killing a man will save society from the infection of lawlessness, then I will gladly do what is necessary.

You eye the journal at your lap. The freshly written ink expands and bleeds to the perfect width of the quill. Satisfied that it won't smear, you shut the book and toss it aside. The meager fire at your feet does little to warm your body, but its original use was already completed. The frail, thin-boned squirrel did little to satisfy your hunger. Still, it would keep you alive until the next meal. You pull the leather waterskin from your pack to gauge how much longer it would last. With a gentle shake, you estimate it'll last a couple more days with strict rationing.

The road is lonely. In a former life, you dreamed about wandering the world without any responsibility or burdens. The reality of the road's harsh living conditions were nothing like the trigger-happy romanticized versions of the lawless west. Here there are no home-cooked meals, no warm body to lie next to yours. It's only you and the necessary task. Someone had to die.

You gaze up at the night sky. It seemed foreign at first. Without city lights to disorient the constellations, it looked like an entirely new sky. If you traveled at a good pace, you'd reach Canyon Diablo by midday. You pull the bone-carved pipe from your pack and light a match against the sole of your foot. You lie down on your bedroll, breathe in the relaxing tobacco, and drift off to sleep...

Author's Note:

The Wild West is a dangerous place. Be sure to make good use of that "back" button. I've hidden three achievements throughout the story. Yes, your total score will show if you've discovered them or not. The highest score possible is an 8/8.


Point Breakdown:
Achievements: 1 point each
Epilogue: 5 points

Entry for mizal's Lone Hero contest.

8/28/19 Update: Fixed the symbols appearing in the description

Recent Posts

Contest:Battle in the Ruins of a Dead Civilization on 10/17/2019 11:33:58 AM
The Ninja is still on course despite its spotty communications system.

Poll: Vault CYS on 10/16/2019 5:39:57 PM
On it. Hope you all like Guinness.

Poll: Vault CYS on 10/16/2019 11:25:34 AM
Dibs on top bunk.

Prompt: Write the Last Page of Sixteen Words on 10/14/2019 7:04:13 PM
Thanks for the nice feedback. I was hoping the lack of dialogue didn't make it too stale.

Prompt: Write the Last Page of Sixteen Words on 10/14/2019 6:13:03 PM
Contemplation

This world is not for me. The older I get, the more I understand that truth. In my former life, I desired accolades. I wanted the entire world to know my name and my worth. I wanted them to see that I’m better than the common man. I wanted to etch my name into the history books for all humanity to read. I have accomplished much more than most. What did I receive in return?

As a young man, I poured the entirety of my energy into training. When you’re young, your life seems endless as if each decision would take you down a separate path of adventure. Sometimes that’s the case. Most of the time, it’s not. Each day I’d rise before the sun. The practice room became my home. I devoted myself to master the body. No impurity was allowed in my system. Anything that did not contribute to the cause was forsaken.

Unsurprisingly, I separated myself from my peers. They did not have the same discipline. Their lives were led by cheap thrills and even cheaper wine. A few times they invited me to partake with them. I have to admit, I was tempted. My life was one training after the other. Why not have a night of fun? Eventually they stopped asking, and I was glad because my will had begun to waiver. Over the years, I had seen many men waylaid by drink and celebration. Their base desire and animalistic tendencies is the very thing wrong with humanity. If we are led by simple sensual pleasure, we are no different than the dog seeking scraps under the table.

I became the Emperor’s preferred instrument of destruction. His divine will was made manifest by my blade. He but had to point in the direction of his enemies, and I would wipe them from existence. It didn’t matter whether man, woman, or child, the enemy of my Emperor was the embodiment of evil. The world was better off without their survival. Nothing stood in the way of my holy scourge.

The entire world eventually learned my name. My name brought fear upon the battlefield. It was whispered by mothers to their children at night as a warning. My name became synonymous with death. A lifetime of training and self-denial had brought me to the thing I had desired most: a lasting impression on the world; the irony does not escape me.

The Emperor threw a feast, a celebration in honor of my conquest. That night should have been the pinnacle of my life’s work. I witnessed my fellow soldiers, men who performed battle formations flawlessly, lose themselves to base desire. They laughed and danced like fools. They treated the very women we fought to protect as their playthings, and simply tossed them aside after. The men of discipline, the men I had fought and bled with, were no better than the foreigners we slaughtered.

And so the mountains became my home. I found I preferred the animals in nature opposed to the animals in civilization. Out here at least they’re honest about who they are. Still I devote myself to my training. The empty feeling I have inside is no excuse not to remain disciplined. Every few years adventurers seek me out in hope I will teach them blade mastery. Their youthful energy and strength of body is no match for my skill. I cut them down to save them from the meaningless of life.

I sit here cross-legged at the mouth of the cave I call home. Light snowflakes sting my face as I breathe in the dew-filled air. In a few moments, the yellow hue of the rising sun will peer through the twin peaks facing the cave. Its golden rays will fire on the evergreens scattered down the mountains illuminating their eastern side with an angelic glow. The shadow is what catches my attention most. A sinister dark copy of the tree remains beneath the heavenly light; it’s the symbol of our nature’s duality. Despite the feeling of meaningless, I’ll begin this day with training. Each form takes me further from my shadow self. Each denial of my base tendencies draws me closer to the angelic light. Another day has come. I devote myself to training.

Prompt: Write the Last Page of Sixteen Words on 10/7/2019 2:23:38 PM
Lol. Great comment about communion. The answer to your question is heavily implied near the end. On a less subtle note, if you're wondering who killed everyone, the guy holding a gun is a good guess.

Pineapple demon on 10/4/2019 8:03:48 PM
I made it to the first line of the second paragraph. That sentence could use some work. I briefly skimmed through the rest. The structure and flow feels really forced. It reads like someone telling a bad story around a campfire. I hope she's a looker. Let's see, something constructive...I would encourage her to add a little variety and get away from the basic "I go here. I do this. I feel that." That's kind of how the whole thing reads at a glance. Maybe add more descriptors. It's very surface-y from what I can tell. As I didn't examine it too closely, I don't have any comments on the plot itself, but it seems like an edgy mess. Also, I read your intro as "I dislike myself."

Prompt: Write the Last Page of Sixteen Words on 10/4/2019 4:43:09 PM
Bodies Everywhere

“Mr. Snuggles, would you please pass the cream?”

The plush pink elephant says nothing. Its two black beaded eyes stare aimlessly forward.

“Mr. Snuggles?” Barry asks again.

The elephant again says nothing. Visibly angered, Barry wipes the moist spot appearing at the base of his nostril. He’s left with a shooting star streak of snot along the back of his forearm.

“How about you, Milfred?” Barry questions the stuffed giraffe opposite the table. “Your cup looks low, let me top you off.”

Humming, Barry reaches for the teapot and pours a steady stream into the giraffe’s cup. “There you go. Don’t ever say Daddy doesn’t treat you right.”

Shattering glass draws Barry’s attention behind him. Among the ballroom of scattered bodies, a lone woman moves. Her bare foot steps on a broken wine glass collapsing the woman to her knees. The crunch reminds Barry of stepping into finely packed snow. The dark stain on her dress, just below her corseted breasts, could either be blood or wine. Both tasted sweet to Barry, but this is a night for tea.

“Mother, would you like to join us?” Barry questions the woman.

She looks up towards Barry through smeared makeup. The slight movement causes pearls from her torn necklace clattering to the floor. “Get…help,” she manages to whisper before descending into a coughing fit. A waterfall of red shoots from her mouth to the floor beneath her.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to clean yourself up before sitting at the table,” Barry answers. “Remember what you told me? ‘Wash your hands! A proper lady is clean and well-kept.’ Remember that, mother? Remember when you dressed me in pink because you wanted a daughter? Remember when you made me play with dolls instead of trucks? You taught me how to be a lady, but you don’t look so lady-like now, mother.”

The woman lies unmoving on the floor matching the rest of the room’s inhabitants. The ballroom doors swing open and a man in a tuxedo walks in. Barry recognizes his father’s bodyguard, Richard, immediately. His Rolex usually grabbed Barry’s attention, although this time it’s the hand holding the silenced pistol. His gaze meets Barry’s.

Richard takes a few long strides over several fallen guests of the party. “Good evening, Barry. Looks like you’re the life of the party,” he says dryly.

Disinterested, Barry continues facilitating tea and cookies to the surrounding stuffed animals. Richard turns to leave, hesitates for a moment, and then speaks, “Stay away from the wine, Barry.”

Barry nods. This is a night for tea.

Gower's Office Hours on 10/2/2019 6:40:02 PM
This is timely. I was reading about restrictive clauses earlier this week. How tempting was it to use "Gower-antee" in the second paragraph? Probably not very. Great article.

Colored Lines and Dark Tunnels on 10/2/2019 12:07:52 PM
No problem at all, TB. Ultimately, writing should be your entertainment more than ours. Don't feel like you have to force yourself to finish something just because we all enjoy the story. It's the reason why it's not healthy to live and die by your story's rating. People are going to do what they want, and you can't let their choices affect you. You seem like a genuine person and that shows in your writing. I think that's clear to everyone following this thread. That's also probably part of the reason your writing drew me in; I could tell by the organizing and fully-fleshed replies to comments that you care about the story and the direction it's going. Case in point, you posted this update. Not sure what life circumstances are going on, but whether you choose to continue this story or not, thanks for putting in the time and effort to bring us a very interesting story.