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Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Writing Exercises: temporarily hosted by Sethaniel during the holiday season.

 - This thread will contain a week's worth of writing exercises to be completed each day. I'm going to award W.P. (writing points~) for completed assignments, it's 1 W.P. per regular assignment, 5 per bonus. If I make a super bonus assignment, I will tell you what it's worth individually. Please bear in mind that I will not award points for incomplete or improperly completed assignments; will not deduct points; and only the current week's exercises are eligible to earn points. Thank you.

WP are mainly a bragging rights reward, but actual CYS points will also be awarded, based on a super secret formula involving level of participation.

You may do as many or as few as you please. Anyone is allowed to join up at any time, but please let me know in a PM if you want to be added to our tag list because only people on the tag list will be awarded points. Also, you may leave the exercises at any time. Please tell me if you wish to be removed, though. I will not remove you unless you request it.

Our goal here: Fun, encouragement of young and old writers, and self-improvement. :D

ONE IMPORTANT RULE: PLEASE DO NOT REPLY TO ANY OTHER WRITER'S POST. I created a feedback thread, please use it: Link!   My insistence on this is to ensure that other writers can edit as needed, and while it is possible to unlock posts, I'd have to delete your comments in order to do so. Thank you for your cooperation. ^_^

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Monday: Start Slow

Write a 100 word paragraph describing a fantasy hero.  Your hero can be any gender, race, or species, from any existing fantasy culture, or one you've invented yourself.  Your hero should be an original character, though- not just a description of someone from a book/movie.

Bonus: Write it in first person, as though you were introducing yourself to a group of strangers.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

@Kiel_Farren , @Will11 , @TheNewIAP , @Ogre11 , @Kwism1127 , @ecoLyte , @Beagle , @Ford , @betaband , @Claw2k11 , @SonicTurboTurtle , @DerpBacon , @Romulus , @galobtter , @Swiftstryker , @BenCrucifix , @31TeV , @MadHattersDaughter , @At_Your_Throat , @Tim36D , @Jibble , @NightBirdBlue , @3173v3 , @Vampwolfie , @Spacecats , @Shinobi , @Morgan_R , @TacocaT , @Chris113022 , @jamescoker1226  , @bilbo , @CastleLover , @igulat  , @Raven47 , @Ronhil12 , @FeanorOnForge , @SpartacustheGreat , @cdrive 1 , @Delta44 ,  @Beardon87 , @ShadowHills , @Malkalack , @Aman , @Tanstaafl , @BerkaZerka , @Killa_Robot , @Shadowulf , @Goody2Shoes , @HJPike , @nmelssx , @Wolfmist , @TheBossWriter , @Bloodsrain , @Mtactical , @ISentinelPenguinI

Longer list than usual. I invited people from Forum Games and with recent activity.

Again, just let me know if you'd like to be removed from the list.

 

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

“My merry band of mates, it’s a pleasure to meet you at this most distinguished of places! I suppose I should introduce myself.” Goeta said, standing up from his sitting position on the log, his long tail swinging behind him. “The Liazan of the Ashen Lands, are often confused as mere giant ‘reptiles’, but you’d be wrong. With our thick, ashen scales and our long bared claws, we are as deadly as we are intelligent. While we may seem like simple beasts, we are just as smart as you, and it will be a great to travel with you all.”

---

Well, I hope this is alright, my first time doing one of these writing exercises!

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Going for Bonus)

Credentials? I'm offerin' to escort you through the woods, not perform brain surgery. I mean, I can do that; after all, I was a neurosurgeon at Bok before the desert air starting wreakin' havoc on my gills. But that's a story for another time. Point is, I just stuck a charger in the face with a plasma bolt from a thousand yards away. This proves two things: that I am more than competent enough to escort your party through the woods and that, had I wanted to kill y'all, it wouldn't benefit me nothin' to get up close and personal.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(It's my first time, better not go for a bonus now :)

His name is Aryyn of Dummwyre, the Savior of Aktedviir. His hair is brown, normally tied in a little ponytail. His face is complex, with blue eyes sticking out the most. He’s a bit on a fat side, but don’t let that fool you. His silver coated sword stands ready in the leather sheet on his back. His look is always calm, making it hard to notice his emotions. When he walks through the streets in his worn out, silver coated, leather outfit, rarely who hangs around. His reputation in one of death and killing, for his job is not a peaceful one. His friend count might be small, but he often confides his secrets to ale and wine, as he knows from experience that humans are twisted, dark betraying beings…

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I know, it's crap... I didn't expect this, but that shouldn't be an excuse :)

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Hey! To be honest, I'm amazed to see you're reading this. You might already know this, but I am sort of a super hero. I call myself Average Man. Why, you're asking? Well, it's because I literally look like nothing special. Do you know those people who have such a common face you tend to forget them? Everyone forgets about me. I never stand out, I never draw attention, and I am forgotten as soon as I leave a room. This might not sound like the most spectacular super power, but it has its advantages. For example, you've already forgotten that I'm standing behind you, haven't you?

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Roll up, roll up one and all! Come listen to this amazing story I have to tell! It’s a heroic tale of daring and bravery, cunning and guile, and all other manners of heroic activity. Of course, every great story needs an even greater hero. A hero with great strength, wisdom and charisma. “Who is this incredible hero you speak of?” I hear you ask. Why it is me of course, the great Harold Silvertongue, Hero of Svendon, and chosen warrior of the great god Thelmir. I have done many great deeds on my adventures; I have slain monsters that would make most men shiver in fear as urine trickles down their legs. But there is one adventure even more daring and dangerous than most, so listen now and I will tell you of it…

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
James Liatac is a magical creature, a mutation they don’t’ have a name for. He is about 5-9 in height, and looks like an average man. He has short brown hair and blue eyes. His parents are both dead. He has some wicked fighting skills. He helps in fights a lot, but he always slips away after the fight, and no one can tell who he is because he wears a mask. He sleeps in the wilderness; he doesn’t have a home. He helped in the great war of 531 ADD, turning several fights in the favour of the Amris tribe including the final battle. He was known as a hero after that.

Bonus:

“Hey, y’all. I’m James. I’m what they call a mutation, I got a power. My power is accuracy. I always hit what I want to hit. I help inocent people. I fight for em if they getting robbed or whatever, then leave. I can’t stand to see inocents hurt, y’know? Oh, yeah. I helped in that little war, that one between those two tribes. I liked the Amris, so I helped em. They were fightin for freedom. In that big battle, I killed hundreds. After that, I was known as a hero, as you probably know. I hate tellin long stories, so I’ll just end this here. You want clarification on somethin, ask me after.

You can tell James is a man of little words, heh.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

"I am Arkaea of Thornwood, at your service." I dip my head in respect to the passing dwarves. "My sword and bow are gifts from the Hero of Fire, or Burnn, as he prefers. With it I have slayed goblins, wolves, and other beasts. I am returning from the deep woods far yonder to return to Lake-town. There was an infestation of giant spiders, there, and an elf requested help. I highly suggest a cottage near the entrance. The maidens there made a fine meal for me. Oh, you are on your way to the woods? Well, I would stay away from the elves, if I were you. They don't take kindly to dwarfmen like you. Farewell!"

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
(I'm going for a more unique approach. I hope it's okay.)

The lights shine as beight as the sunlight in the daylight. In the room, sits an attractive young woman. Her hands are cuffed with chains, which are attached into the table. The frigid environment bites her slightly tan skin as she stares at the colorless white walls surrounding her.

Not long after she takes a look around, someone opens the door, entering the room. It turns out to be the interrogator. He wears a black blazer over his white shirt. He has two black briefcases in his hands -- a bigger one in the right hand and a smaller one in the left hand. Behind him is an armed contractor of Global Security International, donning military-grade vest, riot helmet, armpads, kneepads, and fingerless gloves.

The young woman's sharp gray eyes clash with the interrogator's eyes as soon he puts the briefcases on the table. Then, the interrogator takes a sit in front of the table, confronting the woman. His blue eyes dig into the attractiveness of the woman's facial appearance -- from her jet black hair, which is pulled back into a ponytail with two bangs that frame the sides of her hair until her slim, muscular arms over her black tank top.

The GSI contractor stands beside the woman with his Heckler & Koch 416 assault rifle by his hip.

"Shall we proceed?" Asks the interrogator.

The woman nods to agreement.

"So... let's begin with the first question," says the interrogator, leaning back into his chair. "Your name?"

"Caelan Enver," she answers, with an emotionless expression.

"Alright, Miss Enver... I've never seen your 'type' as I live my life. You are like a riddle to me. I'd like to know more."

Caelan inhales the fresh air, before letting them out and continues to be emotionless toward the interrogator.

"You look pretty young. How old are you exactly?" Asks the interrogator.

"Does it really matter? It's just a bunch of numbers," answers Caelan.

"You'd better answer my question," says the interrogator, smirking, before shoving the bigger briefcase into him. He opens it to reveals a sniper rifle inside, with three spare magazines. He takes the sniper and sets up the bipod on the table, pointing the rifle toward her. He takes a spare magazine and loads it into the rifle, before chambering a round.

"Sako TRG-42. High power magnification scope. Chambered in .338 Lapua Magnum. Quite light for a sniper rifle," says the interrogator, describing the sniper rifle.

"Look, it's up to me to decide how it goes. I can just put a hole into your chest if I want to. So you'd better answer my damn questions," the interrogator again.

"Seventeen," answers Caelan as she stares the tip of the barrel of her sniper rifle, which is possessed by the interrogator.

"You're kidding me, right?" Says the interrogator, curious.

"No, it's the fact."

"Okay then," says the interrogator, pausing for a moment before moving to the next question. "Who are you exactly?"

"An extremely... deadly... assassin," answers Caelan.

"Yup, that explains why you entered the building with these cool toys beneath the trench coat you weared. But I doubt you're not a typical killer..." says the interrogator with a sinister tone.

He picks up the smaller briefcase and puts it on the other side of the table, before revealing its content. Inside, lie two pistols, with magazines loaded into them. He takes one of the handguns and inspects it.

"FN Five-Seven Mark 2. You have such a good taste," says the interrigator, smiling.

He puts the gun on the table and continues to ask questions. Caelan continues to remain quiet.

"Two handguns? You must be really special. What are you, Trinity, Black Widow, or some shit?" He says, quoting movie characters.

Caelan lets out a cruel smirk, before speaking up. "I'm a lot worse than you think. Yes, I am special. And you will regret it.

Offended, the interrogator holds the TRG sniper rifle and points it toward her chest. "Don't you dare to say that, you cunt!" He yells.

Caelan bursts into laughter. Her psychopatic laugh haunts the room, with the contractor beside her being curious of what's up with the woman beside him.

"You didn't scare me. Instead, I'd like to thank you for bringing my guns here," says Caelan, smirking before she does her magic.

The interrogator makes horrible mistakes of bringing her guns along and chambering a round into the sniper rifle. Caelan stands up and kicks the table upward. With enough force, the sniper rifle jolts into mid-air before landing on the table, causing the sensitive trigger mechanism to works. With a .338 already chambered, it comes out from the end of the barrel, flying toward Caelan. With superhuman reflex and speed, she postures her body position and her hands accordingly, causing the bullet to pierces through the crossline between the chains instead of her, rendering her free. The bullet continues to pierce through the hlass behind her, before making impact with the head of a contractor assigned to watch the interrogstion from outside, destroying half of his head as blood and brain matters splat into his buddy beside him.

The contractor beside Caelan immediately points his HK416 toward her and attempts to kill her. Having the upper advantage, Caelan quickly kicks him in the gut, have the buttstock to collide with his face, and grabs the assault rifle out from his hands, disarming him. Then, she continues to pull the trigger, sending a hot lead into his face before he hits the ground.

Caelan proceeds to shoot the interrogator in front of her, sending out a burst of gunfire into him, before crouching and turns 180 degrees to shoot the last contractor, which is watching in horror as he attempts to pull his sidearm, but unfortunately, he isn't quick enough.

The interrogator falls from his chair and drops into the ground. As he crawls away, trying to resist the blood dripping out from his stomach, he looks behind him, only to see Caelan approaching toward him, with her FiveSeven in her possession.

'Impossible! That's very inhuman of her! Who is she exactly?' The interrogator thinks to himself.

"Told ya," says Caelan as she grins, before ending the interrogator's life with a 5.7mm round being fired into his head.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(I didn't know where to start with this :P If i have got it kind of wrong, could you tell me? By the way thank you for inviting me :)

I walked over to the giant house and wrestled with the big door. After finally getting it open i was greeted with smiles by a lot of different creatures. I scanned over the people, choosing where to sit. There was a big group where they were all chatting to each other and having what looked to be a really jolly time. There was a big creature who looked like a plant, a man who looked like he could just show you a new world, what looked to be like a man in stitches (No joke), an ogre hunched over, but smiling overall, a penguin with a crazy smile, holding a hammer, a normal human with a great looking coat and a red dragon that was all smiles.

I was thinking about not going here after all, being too shy, the plant creature, looked up and noticed me. He waved a hand (Vine?) and beckoned me over, all smiles. I shied away a little but came over after a moment's hesitation. My white scarf was wrapped around my fluffy neck to keep me warm from the harsh cold outside. Not that I really needed the scarf since my whole body was covered in black and white fur. I had decided on taking my black hoodie, wearing grayish trousers. I wore red and white canvas shoes in order to grip more onto the harsh snow outside.

I set myself down next to the group that had wanted to meet me. I smiled and they did the same. The one that had originally called me over spoke up: 'So, what do we call you? I have never met a wolf who hasn't tried to take control of things straightaway.' It took me a moment to think of something to say. Then I thought of what to say. In a small voice I said timidly: 'Hello, my name is Shadow Wulf. Please call me either shadow or Wulf, whichever you prefer.'

The small group smiled, nodding in approval. All of them stood up and said one at a time, taking my shaggy hand one at a time; 'Welcome to CYS.'

(I didn't really know what to write, but I hope it's good. Thanks again :)

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
(Bonus Included)

Jorgensen is a powerful man, with muscles on top of muscles. Across his back is a large sword that looked small because of his massive size. He wore little but a loincloth, showing off his powerful body. He stepped forward and declared, “I am who I am.” He drew the large sword with both hands and it slashed the air. Then his face softens and he says, “Pleased to meet you. Can I help you with anything today?”

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Hey, I know this is late, but imma write it anyway. I was traveling yesterday so I couldn't do it then.

They've sang my songs in the halls of old. I was the one who killed the wolf-god and set the sun alight. I cast the moon from the depths of the sea. You would do well not to question me so flippantly, human. There are men and then there are gods. There are warriors and then there is me. I am Grinsha, god of war and my blade will taste blood with the frequency you taste flesh. You come here in search of aid and I will give it. But remember your place, human, for men mean nothing to war. 

 

Writing Exercises: Week 1 Monday

4 years ago

"Hello, I am Edward and my nickname is Electron. I was born in the year 2037 but transported back in time to the year 2015. This was because of a zombie apocalypse that was ending humanity. Now, I have to get word out to everybody that they need to get everything prepared and ready for anything. I am a British teen of the age 16, well to be honest, -23! Before the apocalypse, my friends called me Electron as I had the power to conduct electricity! I don't know if I'll need that power in the future, or past!"

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

"My eyes are up here, cutie. Hah, I know you weren't 'reading my shirt.' It's rude to stare at a lady ... and dangerous to stare at an assassin. You thought these cuffs were bracelets? Pretty little green-eyed blondie couldn't be dangerous, eh? You're as naive as the boys in those cells. I'm Cassandra. Cassie, if you're good. No? How 'bout 'Lady Luck,' then? From the playing cards at every scene... if I even leave a scene. I like fireworks, hun. I like to watch big men like you burn, just like the man who took my family away..."

(Alright, so she's an anti-hero for the most part, but she's rescued / helped innocent people on multiple occasions and I can't honestly say she's killed anyone who didn't deserve at least a nice bitch-slap from Ms. Karma.)

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Monday: Points will be awarded & feedback given later today.  

I notice several of you showed flagrant disregard for the instructions. Especially that "100 word" part of it.  I know it's easy to get carried away, so I'll be lenient this time, but try to stick to what was requested in future.  (Not to mention, some of these build on each other, so by massively exceeding the scope of the exercise, you may make it harder to complete future assignments.)

Tuesday: A Twist in the Tale

Your hero from yesterday-- they're out of the heroing business. Write 100-200 words about why.  Arrow to the knee, morally ambiguous enemy, fell in love, the reason why is up to you.  Bonus: keep up the story from Monday. 

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

I was walking glumly from the law and council offices. My feet dragging across the snow, I sat down not caring how cold it was knowing that the fur on my body would keep me very warm.

I sat in the same spot as it continued to snow heavily. I sighed sadly, knowing I would never fire a gun again.

While sitting in the same spot a oldish, youngish man crossed my path. He was walking to the council, holding a bunch of letters. He noted my place and stopped to say something. 'What's wrong, cub?' He asked in a low voice. 'I will never be adventuring with the good guys again.' I told him in a hushed tone.

'Why's that?' he said, cocking an eyebrow at me. I picked out the small envelope with my fluffy hand and explained while he opened it. 'A council member went rogue and tried to kill another member. I quickly grabbed a flintlock and shot the guy. The member was thankful, but the damn law says if you kill a council member, you get some sort of punishment.

'Oh.' The man said. He then followed up; 'Goodbye.' and walked off, leaving me dumbfounded.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
After the big war, James drifted for a few years before he found a nice woman to settle down with. He got a house by the sea and lived there with her. They had two kids. Their names were Alex and Harrold. If James ever saw a crime being commited, he would help, but for the most part he was out of a job. So he started working as a weapons crafter, because he was bored. Alex grew up to be a blacksmith, and Harrold started an orphanage. James died a few years after his wife, in 582 ADD. Many people morned him, for he was the one who turned the great war in the Amris tribe’s favour. He was remembered for hundreds of years afterward. Miths still lived on thousands of years later, as well.
edit: If you couldn't tell, bonus was included in that one.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Hey! It's me again. I was re-reading what I sent you yesterday, and I think that certain points need a bit of clarification. Especially the 'being a bit of a super hero' part. You see, I was a super hero, I really was, but I decided to quit. Believe me or not, but I actually managed to rescue people, I saved hostages, victims of muggings, and so on. But I couldn't take it anymore. The pain, the suffering, all those people that I couldn't save, so many people in need that I couldn't help. It was all just too much. 

I actually tried to convince myself that I was necessary, that I was making a difference. I went to the police station, to city hall, even to the hospital, and desperately asked if what I did mattered. Turned out they didn't even remember me. Like I said before, having powers has its advantages, but being forgotten, being forgotten even though I did so many good deeds, ended up being the last straw. If everyone had already forgotten me, then who was going to miss me if I decided to quit?

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

I see a few of you looking cynically at me, and I do not blame you. If a frail old man such as myself told me that he was a great adventurer I would not believe him either. But I was not always as frail as I am now, nor as old. I was once young and foolhardy, such as many of you listening to me are today.

This tale that I tell you of, it was meant to be my last. I would find riches beyond my wildest dreams, enough for me to live comfortably on for the rest of my days. But alas, it was not to be. This adventure was indeed my final quest, but for a much more terrible reason.

This great adventure, this quest for wealth and fame, it was all a sham. My young, foolhardy self, was tricked into betraying the one I serve, the great god Thelmir. I betrayed him, and he took his revenge. I am to spend the rest of eternity as a weakling, unable to do anything but warn others of my plight. One day, perhaps, I will be able to regain his trust, and he will free me from this curse.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

"It seems we, my friends, have come to an insurmountable obstacle in our conjoining destinies." Goeta grumbled, his split tongue rolling across his bared fangs. "Horrible news has come from the Ashen Lands, a death most fowl when it comes to our lineage of lordship. I regret I have not told you all about myself, or my people, as you all have never met one of my kind before." Smoky scales flickered in the firelight; Goeta visibly upset about the current situation. "When one of our royalty has died, especially when it comes to a lord, all of our kin are called back to our homeland at the base of the Grey Valley. We must all come together, as a race, to decide the future of our noble line." Grief overcame him. "I am not a hero that I seem to be. In truth, I am only a noble who has escaped his responsibility. I may have learned how to fight with a rapier, and that might have fooled you, but I am nothing more than a fraud..." He let out a heavy sigh, his amber eyes scanning over his former confidants. "I am sorry, this is goodbye."

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
(Bonus Included)

Jorgensen looked around and said, “Welcome to Wal-Mart.”

Biff said, “Jorgensen? Is that you?”

Jorgensen looked down and replied, “Yeah, it’s me.”

“What in the world happened? Last time I saw you, you were out saving that town down east or something like that, weren’t you?”

Jorgensen said, “Yeah, that was me. But you know what? Savin’ the poor don’t pay near as much as you might think it does. And know what the retirement benefits are? Absolutely nothin’. Oh sure, if you get a dragon or two, you might think that would do it, but you’d be surprised how many people show up laying claim to this or that in a treasure hoard. ‘Oh, it was me pappy’s gold that dragon took, so it belongs to me now.’ It was hardly worth the effort any more. And now, not only has me got a plan for retirement, I also have ye olde health care so’s I can see a medinicinal type healer when me knees hurt with age, you know.”

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bonus included)

Who is that? I know you're there. 

Is that you little one? Yes. I always said you walked strangely. Have you come looking for help? Look at me. I'm in no position to be helping anyone.

Of course I might be able to if you brought...? Of course. It was wishful thinking. Hime must keep the key with her at all times, cowardly bitch that she is. If you see her tell her that I'm here, waiting. I can beat her, even without my eyes. That's why she locked me here after my son deceived me and blinded me. She's afraid of me even as I am. She knows that I can kill her, and if I have the chance I will take it

But I am trapped, little one. And the wars reign without their god. I fear for your people, my human friend. You and all else who the chaos can consume.

You once told me the time of humanity would rise someday. I believe that day will be sooner than you imagined those years ago.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Later today, individualized feedback!

Wednesday:  the return of the King 

As always, 100 words or so. A formerly retired hero returns for one last battle/quest/defense of their family.  You decide.  Bonus if you can fit it into your established narrative.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Today I am going to do something I'm not very proud of. I'm going to kill someone. I know I said I was retired, but I can no longer stand by while this city, while everyone I hold dear, is threatened. Last week I learned of an imminent attack on this city by a rogue operative of a foreign power, and today I learned what it entails: bombs, detonated in the subway tunnels, will kill thousands, and would be a cause for our country to go to war. I think I'm the only who can stop them at this point. 

I also have a confession to make: I anticipated this mission some days ago, and I think there is a very real possibility that I will die during it. So I've been writing you these letters, because I knew that if I told it to you directly, you would immediately forget. If I die, please let the city know that I died a hero...

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

I hope, perhaps, that I will be able to regain Thelmir’s trust. It will not be an easy thing to do, for the only conceivable way that I think to do it, is to retry this harrowing quest that I failed once before. It will not be easy. I was defeated before, and that was when I was young and strong. Now I am old and weak. But this is something that must be done. I cannot live with this curse for eternity. I will not live with this curse forever. 

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Horror overcame Goeta as the massive flood of mud and bile swarmed through the valley. Currently, he stood over his people, on a giant stage made of gold and ivory. They were just talking about the next in the royal line, in which they had chosen Goeta as their next lord. But, as the coronation began, massive rain clouds had gathered above. The sky went black, then...rain. Rain unknown to the people of the Ash Lands. "Get back, lord, away from the mud!" Shouted one of the members on the platform. Goeta knew what had to be done, though. He might not be able to be a hero through his adventures, but he would at least save his people. Grabbing a large tree branch, Goeta leaped into the ocean of ooze, determined to rescue his kin.

 

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
(Bonus Included, continued from the last post)

Biff said, “Jorgensen, we need you.”

Jorgensen looked up hopefully but said nothing.

“There’s an attack. We know it’s coming. They’re going to attack the old seaport. Word is they’re going to attack at daybreak tomorrow and we don’t have enough to defend the place. Once they get in there, there’s no stopping them. And this Wal-Mart? Yeah, they’ll flatten it, too.”

Jorgensen looked around at the happy shoppers, then reached up and tore the blue vest off, revealing his still large muscles. He said, “Let’s do this.”

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

This shall be written in the style of a poem, because 1. I've been doing that rap battle stuff too much and 2. we're doing poetry in language arts right now. *ahem*

It'd been years since he had last picked up the blade,
The first time he did it a hero was made,
But that was many years before,
Back during the days of war,
Yet then he was a boy,
And adventuring had brought him joy,
Now he was but a shell of a man,
Living in a town and surviving off what he can.

So the hero picked up the sword,
And ran off to save the daughter of the lord,
His old bones ached and hurt,
But alive he felt, as he ran through the dirt,
Yes, he felt oh so young again,
As he fought off the bandits, that wretched group of men,
So he continued to run until he came to a staircase,
And sliced through a black knight who wielded a mace.

He reached the top of the tower,
Only to find a beast of great power,
The hero had fought against this beast once,
And then he had won,
But now was different, he was old and the beast was young,
It had lashed out at him, with it's sharp steel tongue,
He had been cut, stabbed, and was dying,
All the while, the maiden watched on, crying.

The hero took up his blade, from years before,
With it, he cut through the beast, leaving a pile of gore,
Finally, he collapsed, the maiden at his side,
She attempted to stop the bleeding, using the beast's hide,
But alas, the hero wished to ascend a golden stair,
He would meet his old friends there,
The hero took a final breath and passed away,
And many more heroes would meet him in the promised land one day.

The End.

280 words, 282 if you count 'The End' as words in the story.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
James stood, a sword of his own making in his hand. He was old, but he had to save his family. The Imara tribe had been defeated, but there were still supporters of the cause. They wanted to kill him for his part in the war. But he wouldn’t let them kill his family. So he rushed forward and attacked. A sword went through his chest, sawing his heart in half. But he had killed them all; the last one had blood coming out of his mouth, while James’s sword was stuck in his stomach. James died that day protecting his family. He died a hero, one of the greatest of them all.

I never actually said the cause of death in my previous post, so this is believable. Bonus is also included in this one.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

?(Bonus included)

Maghar looked on in horror as the human knights, people that were bound by a code of honor, slaughter a small clan of gnolls that by all means was no threat and had never raided a human settlement to earn the hatred of these people.

At first, his mind told him to run away to safety, he was 54 and by all means he was old. But this thought quickly left his mind and he took his battleaxe. It seemed much heavier now that he was at this age, but he gritted his teeth and charged ahead, roaring at the first human he saw. He would die today, but he didn't care, he was going to die protecting his kind.

(Sorry if it's a bit over the limit of 100 words.)

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bonus included)

Would you hand me my sword, little one. 

Thank you. Ah, Nivene, my blade. It is good to feel its weight in my hand once more. It would be best if you stand aside now. Hime and I have a debt to settle.

HIME!

Here I am, come and face me, coward! Don't think about running. I can't see you, but I can smell your rotten filth.

What, you hesitate now that I am armed? Was it easier to mock me when I was in chains? You were foolish to anger the god of war. You tried to control things you didn't understand and now you must face the consequences.

I have come for vengeance. I have come to restore the chaos you have unleashed. I have come to give humanity a place in this world. What do you fight for? 

 

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bit late. Sorry :) ((Bonus Included))

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As I sat there, in the snow, thinking. I heard a sudden rustle behind me.

The old man had suddenly come back. Out of nowhere there he was. Holding a dagger drenched in blood!

He came towards me, stalking towards me.

I thought about what the council had said. "No Battles".

I got up and ran for the old man. He brang the dagger down but it didn't connect! That was the end for the old creep. One blow was all it took and he fell, dead as a... Well, just dead. I smiled grimly. To hell with the council.

 

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm putting your feedback/points in the feedback thread. ^_^

Thursday: Epilogue

Again let's stick to 100-200 words.  A fitting end for a hero.  Doesn't have to end with their death or departure for the Undying Lands, it could just be the party on Endor.  Write a short scene set after the hero's triumph.  Bonus for once again continuing the narrative from before.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
(Bonus included)

Jorgensen looked around as smoke rolled lightly across the harbor. He could hear a few moans from the dying and could see one of the enemy ships quickly sinking in the harbor. His sword dripping blood of the enemy, but he did not notice. There were fallen around him, but most wore the colors of the enemy. He tried to smile, but there was too much death around him.

Biff stepped up on his side and said quietly, “We did it. We won.”

Jorgensen nodded and gently placed his large sword on the ground. He grabbed a dirty scrap of cloth from the ground and wiped some blood off his arm. He replied, “Indeed we did. Again.”

Calling from far behind him he heard the cracking voice of a pubescent Wal-Mart manager, “Hey, Jorgensen, are you coming back to work, or what? I’m going to not schedule you for any hours next week if you don’t finish off your shift!”

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Hey! It's me again. I know I didn't write for quite some time, but I wanted to let you know I'm alive. I hope you weren't worried. Everything's fine, the city is safe, and the bad guys are stopped. You may have noticed that there was no publicity, no news bulletin, nothing about my actions, and I do prefer it that way. I might have been a bit vindictive about the 'no publicity' thing, but I don't really care anymore. I. I need some alone time, I did some things that I need to process on my own. Things I'd like to forget. I guess life's ironic in that way. The one time I wanted something forgotten, I can't make it so. 

Anyhow, see you around.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bonus included)

Maghar couldn't believe it. Not only had he survived the ordeal but he and his people won against the human knights against all odds. From what he managed to gather from his surviving clansmen, his suicide charge gave the rest of the gnolls courage and fought the knights tooth and claw and somehow scared them enough to make them run away. Mahagar couldn't be happier of his victory.

But his happiness was soon replaced by sadness as he saw the many corpses of his clansmen, more than two thirds of the clan had been killed in battle, including most of the youths that were this clan's future.

Before he could even say another order, his legs felt as if they had their life drained from them and he soon realized why, he had a wound on his side that quickly drained him of energy.

He laughed briefly and fell down completely as his vision went blurry. He could hear many distorted voices approaching him, but he paid them no mind and he smiled, knowing that he had one final battle and that he won it, now he could die in peace.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

At last, it is over. My final quest is complete. I have once again proven my bravery, and in doing so have regained Thelmir’s trust. All my failures have been forgiven, and the curse is finally lifted. I no longer have to live as a weakling, but have returned to my former brilliant self. Nor do I have to remain bound to this world for all eternity, but may travel to the Endless Lands as a hero.

So, my faithful listeners, it is time to say farewell. Consider yourselves lucky, for you have had the rare opportunity to meet the legendary warrior Harold Silvertongue. Tell this tale to your children, for them to tell to their children, for it will be a long time before a great hero quite as brilliant as I shall visit this land. 

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(bonus included)

My time is here. 

Do not cry, little one. The gods never truly die. I devote myself to the hands of Lebanak, she will guide me to a place of rest, then someday I will return. Humanity always has war with it even if I should slumber. 

I do not regret my passage. Hime took liberties when she tried to rule in my stead. Humanity was bound to suffer and it was my honor to fight on your kind's behalf. You have taught me much, friend. I can only hope that I will return to my reign with the wisdom you imparted to me.

For your sake, I hope we should not meet again though it pains me to leave a friend who has grown so dear. Would you grant me one request? I would like to die with my blade in my hand and... and my eyes closed. Thank you.

May the heaven's hear this and honor my last request. I grant you a long life, my friend, filled with blessing. May the gods look favorably upon you and your line. 

You have the blessing of the god of war. May it serve you well in years to come.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bonus :)

'What exactly happened?' Shouted the Irish man.

At the log cabin I lived at, a big rave was going on. There was loud music and a whole orchestral, playing some very fast tunes. People I knew and never met were here, saying I had done a massive impact on the council. For the better. People had insisted they throw me a party. Politely, I declined, saying all I did was; "kill an old monster" but they shook their heads and brang barrels of beer. Even though I don't drink...

I bellowed a reply to the man. 'A man had killed most of the council. I just decided to do what was right!'

He grinned at me. And raised a glass. 'Cheers!' And we clinked glasses.

The rave went on all night. Everybody raised hell.

When it all calmed down and people went home, a council member came up to me and thanked me. I nodded and he went off on his way.

'Alls well that ends well right?' The Irish man asked me.

It was a rhetorical question, so I shrugged, and he drank up.

'Maybe.' I whispered to myself.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Below them, many stared in confusion as the mud flow slowly came to a close, a bubbling mess of death and decay left behind. So many had died from the natural disaster, almost all of their kind except for a handful. They would be able to come back from this, but the damage would be so great, it would be told about in legends. But, from the depths, something stirred. The sky opened up, the sun blazing upon the Grey Valley, rays of light like holy symphony piercing the sky and showering upon the site of the disaster. 

Suddenly, a hand burst from the mud! His face covered in disgusting filth, Goeta's head popped up from above the mud. With him, several children and men and women, he had saved so many! 

When asked exactly how he did it, Goeta slowly sipped his goblet of wine, tasting the sweet nectar of his victory. "Sometimes, you've just got to be a hero, even if it means your own life. It's not about what class you are, or if you be lord or peasant, we must all put our part in."

So ends the tale of Goeta, seventy-fifth lord of the Ashen Lands. May he never be forgotten, and let his name be remembered in the annals of heroes....forever.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
The ashes drifted through the air; the only remains of James’s body. He had died a hero, for the Imara supporters were going to kill the rest of the people in the town after they killed James. It was unfair, Alex thought. His father just couldn’t be left alone. If he had been twenty years younger, he would’ve killed them with ease. But he was in his nineties, and so he died with them. Alex sighed. He knew he couldn’t grieve for long; he needed to get back to his job. But he vowed he would kill all of them, or die trying.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Friday! Into the Future

Any length this time, no restrictions.  Write an introduction for a present-day/futuristic character who became a hero after being inspired by the tale of a previous champion.  Bonus: you know it, link it to your continuing story.  

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bonus included)

Bahmir took in a deep breath and looked at his sword, it was the sword of the hero Maghar, a old gnoll that rose up in defense of his kind. He would often say in his speeches that Maghar was the one who gave him the courage to revolt against the human rule. And it was true. A year ago, a small gnoll tribe who had yet to be enslaved was attacked by a force of human knights, yet, despite accepting their fate and accept the human rule they resisted, and at their helm was a old warrior called Maghar.

And despite the odds stacked against them, the gnolls won, but at a great cost, Maghar had died shortly after the battle thanks to his wounds. However, the remnants of his clan had dispersed and spread the word of his resistance. When Bahmir heard the tale of this gnoll, he led his people to revolt against them. And now he was the head of a army made entirely of gnolls ready to battle for their freedom.

In his tent entered a heavily armored gnoll, on of his lieutenants in the army. "Sir, the human army has been spotted, they're an hour away from us." The lieutenant said in a respectful tone.

Bahmir just took a deep breath and got up from his chair. He nodded at the warrior at exited his tent. Outside was an army of over fifty thousand gnolls ready to die at his command.

"Warriors!" Bahmir shouted. "Today is the day that we kill the humans who enslaved us, today, we assure that the sacrifice of heroes such as Maghar do not go in vain, today, we assure that our kind will have a future!" He shouts, every gnoll there clinging onto his every word. "TODAY, WE FIGHT!" He shouts as loud as possible, pointing his sword at the distant human army.

And with that, the entire army roars loudly in support raising their weapons in the air. Bahmir meanwhile moves at the head of the army with his bodyguard.

"CHARGE!" He shouts and charges right at the human army, behind him, fifty thousand gnolls charge with him, his heart was filled with determination.

'I will not die!' He thought. 'I will make the humans suffer!" He thought. "I will win!" And with that he swung his sword at the first human in his sight.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago
Here goes:

Scarlet Riley was a young woman, living a normal life. She played with dolls, went through school, fought with her parents. But she was a descendant of James, one of the greatest heroes, although he was often not remembered. It had been thousands of years, but she knew she was. Her father would tell her all about him, how he fought in the war. If he hadn’t, life that very day would most likely be very different. She wanted to become a superhero, just like him.

She was enjoying the beautiful weather, just strolling down the street. It was quiet, just the way she liked it. And then suddenly she heard a sound, coming from an alley. It sounded like people were fighting. She looked down it and was horrified. A man was wrestling a woman, trying to grab her purse. She rushed down the alley, grabbing the man and wrestling him away from the woman. He punched her in the face, but with a punch to the head, he was knocked out. The woman looked scared. “Th-thank you, mam. I don’t want to think what he would’ve done…” Her eyes filled with tears.
“You’re safe now,” Scarlet said kindly. She felt proud; she had saved an innocent that day. Just what James had started off doing before he fought in the war.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bonus included)

The book was due, Bethany knew it was, but she only had two pages left. Her physics class was going to start in five minutes. She only had one page left. She had a test in the class which she could not be late for. Done. She closed the book with a sigh and picked up her backpack from the bench beside her. She hated finishing stories under these circumstances, but it was not up to her. 

She winced as she dumped the book into the depository slide outside the library. Bethany always felt it was disrespectful to treat a book so dispassionately after it had imparted its knowledge to you. The brisk autumn air brushed past her as she hurried towards the science building.

Throughout the test her head swirled with the images of gods and heroes who mingled with the forces of gravity and Newton's laws. Mythology was a blessing, a relief, and Bethany's stories of choice. But of course, she had outgrown believing them.

Every morning before classes, Bethany would go for a walk in the nature reserve behind the gym and watch the leaves be covered in light. This was one of the few benefits of a small college town on the foot of the mountain. The peace of nature, its silence... it breathed into her soul. The mountain itself was something to behold, once called Sorrel's Mountain after the wolf god of old, it was now St. Agnes's Mount, a name Bethany found rather distasteful. There was a place, an ancient shrine, she had found buried near the mountain's peak and occasionally on the weekends she would go there to read and rest. Sometimes to speak when she had no one to speak to, though its not as if she was expecting a reply.

"I wonder about the stars sometime," she mused one occasion, leaning against the shrine, "what their first names were. We know about the Greeks and Chinese constellations, but what are the older names."

"I'm not sure you'd like the names, some of them are in tongues you aren't suited to hear," Someone replied from within the forest. The voice was cool and light, most likely feminine. Bethany's eyes grew wide but she made herself stay sitting.

"And you know these languages?" she said casting her eyes around the trees.

"Oh yes. More than most. I'm the one that doesn't sleep, so I know all."

"All of what?" Bethany could see nothing and no one out of the ordinary.

"I've been keeping an eye on you, little one, I think your heart is older than the others who have visited here. That's why I've decided to ask a favor of you."

"And what would that be?" 

"I need you to wake the others." A small thrill ran down Bethany's spine. She felt something important in those words.

"And who are they?" Without a sound or a rustle, a small girl jumped down from the branches of a pine in front of Bethany. She looked to be eleven or so, her dress was old, archaic even. Her hair was more comprised of leaves than anything still they gleamed elegantly around her smiling face.

"The other gods of course."

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Author's note: Sorry for this being so late, but I couldn't write yesterday or earlier today because I was packing for my trip to California. Anyhow, I still have until morning before I leave, so I'll just spend some time with this and then play Fallout 4 with my remaining time... Note that this doesn't exactly take place in the modern day (it takes place in a world that is a mix of the mid-twentieth century and a generic European fantasy setting), nor does it even take place in the same universe as ours, but I figured it'd be fun to mix my tale and the plans for my long dead RP Barsam into one tale.

The Story: The world of Barsam had been at peace for the longest time. Five hundred and fifty years ago, a hero had died saving the daughter of Lord John Eudon from a large, hulking beast he had faced off with before. He killed the beast shortly before he succumbed to his wounds, leaving the world without ever having a descendant. Recently, it was revealed that he in fact did have a son. The Seer of All revealed that he had left a woman that he had impregnated, and that the son he left with her had married and continued the family down to a young man in the ancient city of Eudon, who had been building auto-mobiles and reading up on the tales of the man that was then unknown to be his ancestor.

It was just another day in the life of Gregory Marsh; of course, that wasn't the surname of his great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather (give or take a few greats), considering that there were quite a few women in the family as well. Anyhow, Gregory had gotten up and cooked some eggs for breakfast, reading a poem of his great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather's final adventure (again, give or take a few greats) in which he died. "If only I could do something like this... Perhaps then I could leave this mundane life and journey to the farthest depths of the world and defeat ancient beasts... No, that's for the Emperor's Men to do, I just supply them with their motorcycles." He finally dug the last bit of egg off his plate, the little amount escaping his spoon for quite some time, and headed off to the work place.

On the way down Tenprine Avenue to his workplace, Gregory heard talk of the hero actually having a descendant and rumor had it that it may be him. "Not a chance that I'm his descendant," he said, "I'm just your run of the mill average Joe." He continued to walk until he saw it: a dragon, a beast thought to be extinct, was on the horizon, heading for the city. "CALL THE EMPEROR'S MEN! THE DRAGON'LL KILL US ALL!" A man shouted. Gregory had been one of the first to run straight into the nearest building; he was a coward, and everyone knew that as he was the only man who ran into a building while all the men ran to aid the Emperor's Men. Yet, as he hid in the flower shop, he felt a strange urge to run out there and attempt to kill the dragon... It was a sensation he could not explain, then he realized it: the rumors had been true. He was the hero's descendant. And with that, he ran out of the shop and ran to the barracks.

To be continued... Or the end or whatever.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Sorry about being a little late. Like Chris, I have come up with some excuses, however mine are less justifiable/ true, so I wont bother you with them.)

 

Most of you will not have heard the tales of the legendary Harold Silvertongue, hero of Svendon, and chosen warrior of the great god Thelmir. You will not know the story of how he failed this great god, and was punished for it. And it is unlikely you will know how he regained Thelmir’s trust with a final great quest.

This is because many say that this man did not exist. No one has found this ‘Svendon’, this great god does not seem to have taken an interest in our world since these events, and magic has not been around for centuries, if it ever existed in the first place.

So how can a hero like this Harold Silvertongue have existed? This is what I intend to discover.

I’m sure you have all heard the news by now. There was an excavation team in Sweden that died whilst digging up an old Viking burial site. The government has not yet announce the cause of these deaths, but the video footage that was released is conclusive evidence for all of us.

They were quite clearly killed by a dragon. The cave they found beneath the graveyard was full to the brim with treasure, and the dragon that guards it did not take kindly to the intrusion.

Of course, if this dragon exists, why not other magical creatures? Why not Harold Silvertongue?

There were many paths out of the cavern that could be seen in the video, and I believe that these paths will lead to Svendon. I, Peter Ellstrom, descendant of this mythical hero, shall prove him to be more than just a myth.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

(Bonus :)

-Four Years later-
'The man who lays at this gravestone here served the council after bringing vengence to what happened with other council members. He was offered the duty of protecting the older council members. He was killed, when an unknown assassin stabbed him. The assassin is still at large.'
The Irish man whispered these words, the sentences rolled off his mouth until he couldn't say anything more. He nodded at us and walked, leaving snowy footprints behind him.
I had blended into the crowd so nobody would notice me. 'I wonder if i can ever avenge my cousin.' I thought to myself.

I walked through the forest, back to his cabin. I had a small feeling of being watched, but I just shrugged it off. When I reached the entrance, I walked through the doors of his old home. A gazed around sadly at the home that was now unoccupied.

I shook my head and turned to leave, continue my life, carrying on his duties as a small last wish to him.
But as I was about to close the old, wooden door, my ears pricked and I spun to confront the noise.

A hooded person had climbed through the window. I was a little shocked. I was frozen in place. Then that's when he started advancing towards me. Past the sofa, past the dining table, he was upon me within seconds!

'Heh. I knew he had some relative.' He ginned. 'Well little wolf, I you should come quietly and I'll make you death quick... Unlike his!' Cackling the hooded man raised his weapon, only to realise I wasn't there anymore.
He got up and looked around hastily. 'I was... You were... Where are... WHO ARE YOU!?' He screamed.
It seems he didn't like a taste of his own medicine. Hiding. Of course, when the bad guy talks the hero gets away! (Clichè anyone?)


I ran out of the shadows, sword in hand. I ran the silver straight through his rotten heart.
His eyes widen in a comical expression, if the situation wasn't terrifying, I would have probably laughed.


His now limp body, slides off my sword. The world around me swam, but I forced myself to focus. He lay against the wall, hand to heart, trying to stop the bleeding. But he knew his efforts were in vain.
He looked at me, glaring. But instead of shouting some insults, he smiled and stopped glaring.

'I knew my days were numbered, but so soon?' He chuckled. 'I have a little question. Only one. Will you listen to a dying man's question? He asked, feverishly. I nodded slowly, my hair falling into my eyes. I flicked the hair out of my gaze and looked intently at the assassin.


'Who are you?' He whispered, clearly but with a hint of a deathly rattle.
'My name is, Wild.' I say. Once again he chuckles, faintly this time, his time is running out. 'There hasn't ever been a truer name for a she-wolf like you.' He says friendly, and dies with a smile on his face.


I walk outside, leaving the body. Into the fresh cold again. The people that were going to take this place could handle it.

Sighing, I smiled sadly.


And I walked leaving the bad memories behind.

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Bloodsrain: 10+5+5

Romulus: 10+5+5

Igulat: 10+5+5+5

Ben: 10+5+5

Ogre: 10+5+5

bilbo: 10+5+5+5

Shadowulf: 10+5+5+5

Jamescoker: 5

wolfmist: 5

Kiel: 5

Ronhil:1

Raven: 1

Chris: 1+5

claw: 2+5+5

flamez: 5

Shadowulf, Bilbo, Igulat all finish with 25 pts.

Bloodsrain, Romulus, Ben, Ogre second tier, 20 pts.

Claw: 12

Chris: 6

James, Wolf, Kiel, and Flamez: 5

Ronhil and Raven: 1

Writing Exercises: Week 1

4 years ago

Shadowulf, Bilbo, Igulat all finish with 25 pts.

Bloodsrain, Romulus, Ben, Ogre second tier, 20 pts.

Claw: 12

Chris: 6

James, Wolf, Kiel, and Flamez: 5

Ronhil and Raven: 1