PP - Dragon and Slayer

The Picture Perfect Writing portion of Wordtrip is used to inspire writing through the "VISUAL" of life. Look at the current picture and write an opening line, paragraph, poem, or short story. Perhaps even begin a new novel!

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JillStar
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PP - Dragon and Slayer

Postby JillStar » Wed Jun 09, 2004 5:44 pm

The Picture Perfect Writing portion of Wordtrip is used to inspire writing through the "VISUAL" of life. Look at the picture below and write whatever comes to mine... short story, Fast Fiction or novel... even a poem may be inspired from this picture.

For more information... click HERE.


Here's your next picture challenge to inspire us to write. Write an opening line, paragraph or even a short story to go along with the picture. Perhaps even begin a new novel! Maybe members would like to use these as future tags... just ask the person who starts it if it's ok to use.

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Last edited by JillStar on Sun Dec 05, 2004 11:48 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Postby JillStar » Tue Jul 27, 2004 12:41 pm

Fantasy lovers... use the above picture to inspire yourself to write a short story, Fast Fiction or even a full length novel.

Have fun!
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Mlou
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Postby Mlou » Tue Jul 27, 2004 1:00 pm

haiku

Death is pitiless,
strikes like an adder, its work
"remains to be seen."
nothing is ever simply Yes or No. There's always a But...


GINGERBREAD MAN by Mary Lou Healy at Amazon.com http://www.publishamerica.com/shopping/ ... ogid=16658 at Publish America
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Sakkasie
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Postby Sakkasie » Mon Aug 23, 2004 1:04 am

Thanks for the inspiration Jill!

-----

The once mighty dragon, Morogrith, reared above the small brown sack of gold coins. Even after all this time he still appeared as though he was guarding them. The years had melted away his flesh until all that was left were his gray bones. Empty sockets stared down upon Kalan as he knelt before the dragon. Kalan bowed his head in homage, his sword by his side. Morogrith had once ruled Andskel and stories of his power were still sung by the bards. There were those who claimed they had seen him carry off six men at a time. Six! Others claimed to have seen him set fire to an entire castle with just one blast of his fiery breath. And this was all that was left. Nothing but bones and a bag of coins. Kalan had expected more, so much more.

For years he had traveled the lands of Travistan, searching for the last resting place of the ferocious beast. He had not seen his family in well on eight years now and wondered if they’d even recognize him. The years of hard riding spent out in the elements had toughened Kalan, making him strong and resourceful. There was nothing he could not do for himself, no danger he feared.

Finally, in the town of Blaanter, Kalan had stopped one night to rest and met an old man who claimed to know where Morogrith was. At first Kalan had simply assumed the old man had drunk too much mead and was talking nonsense. But as Kalan spent more time with him, he came to realize that this man knew things others did not. He knew about the bag of gold coins, he knew that the skeleton of Morogrith still remained intact. Kalan’s intuition, honed by many years of dealing with unscrupulous thieves on the roads he’d traveled, told him this man was telling the truth, he did know where Morogrith was.

“I will tell you where you must go,” whispered the old man, “but in return you must promise to return something which originally belonged to me.”

“Of course,” agreed Kalan quickly, thankful that his journey would soon be over, “whatever you wish.”

“In the bag of coins you will find a silver necklace with a rose carved from amethyst attached to it. It was once my wife’s, I would have it back now.”

After Kalan had nodded his acceptance the man drew a piece of parchment from his pocket and began to scratch out a crude map. Kalan saw that he was much closer than he had originally thought. Why, this place the man said Morogrith was at was only a day’s ride, two at the most! Hurriedly, he shoved the map into the pocket of his riding cape and swallowed the last of his mead.

“I will return in three days time,” he assured the old man, “with your wife’s necklace and the bag of gold coins.”

“Be sure that you do, my son.” And with that, the man shuffled out of the inn and disappeared into the night.

“Crazy old fool,” thought Kalan to himself as he ordered the stable boy to saddle his horse. He’d best hope that this necklace wasn’t too valuable or Kalan would be keeping it for himself.

Through the night he rode, now and again checking his map to make sure he was headed in the right direction. The only time he stopped was to rest his horse and allow it some water. Kalan pushed everyone and everything in his life as hard as he pushed himself. Life was not some afternoon’s stroll through a flower filled meadow, it was meant to be rode hard. Anything else was a waste of the limited time one had on this earth.

The following afternoon, Kalan finally reached the cave where the old man had said Morogrith rested for eternity. Tying the horse to a tree by the entrance, he stepped cautiously into the black hole. Walking carefully to avoid tripping over any rocks, he lit a small candle he had brought. The light flared, causing bats overhead to shriek and spin. Kalan waved them away and continued on. It seemed as though he had been walking forever when finally he turned a corner and there he was. The dragon who had once struck fear into the hearts of all who heard his name. Morogrith.

Besides the bag of gold in front of him, an assortment of skulls lay around his feet as though he’d had one last meal before dying. Kalan said a silent prayer for the poor souls. He mentally calculated how many gold coins were in the sack, at least enough to keep him in good inns and fine clothes for three or four years, if he was careful. He ran his fingers through the bag, looking for the necklace he had promised to return to the old man.

Feeling his fingers brush against a metal chain he grabbed hold and pulled the object out of the bag. Letting out a gasp, he took in the size of the amethyst rose. It had to be as big as a man’s fist! And the chain supporting it was at least as wide as two of his fingers held together. This was no lost little trinket someone wanted back to remember their wife by; this was worth more than the entire bag of gold coins combined!

Carefully he placed it at the bottom of the bag, hiding it with coins. If the old man had thought that Kalan was stupid enough to return something of such value, well he needed to think again. He laughed at what a fool the old man had been, trusting a stranger with such a valuable piece of merchandise. “Serves him right,” thought Kalan, I’ll be doing him a favor by not returning this. He won’t be quite so quick to trust again!”

It took him twice as long to exit the cave as it had to enter. The bag of coins was heavy and Kalan moved slowly so as not to drop any. By now his candle had long since burned out and he had to feel his way along with one hand. Finally he could make out the entrance and his horse waiting patiently by the tree. He laughed as he transferred the gold from the old bag to his saddlebags, reveling in the weight as he filled each to the top. What a life he was going to have, what a life!
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Postby JillStar » Mon Aug 23, 2004 12:29 pm

Very nicely done Sakkasie... your story kept my interest until the end.

But now I'm wondering what will become of this man after the three days has past and he has not returned the necklace to it's rightful owner. Perhaps nothing... maybe the old man just wanted someone to have it, even if it wasn't him. You've just done a good job of leaving me wondering.

Thank you for sharing this story...
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Postby TheMudge » Mon Aug 23, 2004 12:40 pm

Asorenth looked down, but instead of seeing his fat, furry stomach, he saw only bones. Small bits of ratty flesh were all that remained of his once-proud pinions. Even his tongue was little more than a lump of atrophied muscle. He lowered his gaze further to where the human knelt before him and forced words through his lipless mouth.

"What the hell did you dip your sword in, you fargling canark?"

"I told you: peenda beetle poison. It obviously works."

"Figured that out all by yourself, huh? I mean, look at me!"

"Well, at least we know."

"But LOOK at me!" When Asorenth raised his arms, his bones rattled.

The man stood and shrugged. "It'll grow back. It always does."
"Throughout history, Truth and Love have always won." - M. Ghandi

"Truth and Love often get the crap kicked out of them along the way." -D. Mudge

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Postby pengwenn » Mon Aug 23, 2004 1:01 pm

Mudge I loved it! :)
Is this my reality or yours?
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Postby TheMudge » Mon Aug 23, 2004 1:41 pm

Thanky, thanky. Always looking for the surreal take on things . . .
"Throughout history, Truth and Love have always won." - M. Ghandi


"Truth and Love often get the crap kicked out of them along the way." -D. Mudge



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Postby Tupwen » Sat Sep 18, 2004 10:48 pm

"…And so I said to her, 'What did you expect, honey? I'm just a bag of bones.'" The skeletal dragon burst into cackling laughter at its joke.

Tav didn't get it, but he smiled politely and shifted his position to prevent his knee from going numb on him. "All right. Now, have you finished with the jokes so we can get on with this?"

The dragon coughed and sighed. "I suppose. You want to slay me, right?"

"That was the idea," Tav said. "I mean, you are a dragon--"

"Was a dragon," the skeleton corrected, shaking a boney claw at Tav. "So tell me, knight, how do you intend to kill me since I'm already dead?"

Tav stood, his head titled to one side. "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you."

The dragon burst into more hysterical laughter. "Sir knight, that was one of the best I've heard in centuries!"

Tav blinked. He hadn't intended his statement to be a joke. Oh well, he thought, may as well get on with it. He lifted the sword over his head and began chanting archaic runes, to ignite a spell in his sword that would turn the dragon to dust.

The dragon sighed and rested its skull on one boney fist. "Knight, do you mind if I give you some advice?"

Tav shook his head as he continued to recite the spell, which was twenty-hundred syllables long. He just hoped he wouldn't screw any of them up.

"I've lived (alive and unalive) for several thousand centuries. I know all the spells in the book."

Before Tav could finish the spell, or stop speaking long enough to try something else, the dragon leaned down and slammed its jaws around the knight's head, effectively killing him.

The dragon sighed and flicked the dead knight away, watching the armor glinting in the moonlight streaming down from the caves. It sighed, curled up, and waited for the next knight to arrive to start the whole process over again.

----

I'm so uninspired tonight it's not even funny…

~Tupwen
Ignorance can be fixed. Stupid is forever. ~Allen Curtis

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Postby Saphyre » Thu Sep 11, 2008 7:16 pm

Sabrina had a knack for using anything and everything as a weapon. I'd seen her animate desks to charge her enemies, quills to attack her least favorite bullies, and had once even heard that she had beat a would-be rapist senseless with a toothbrush. But this... this was far, even for her. A re-built dragon skeleton? Charmed so it thought and reacted like one of the dumb beasts who had forsaken the unaging heritages? And trained to obey her and kill her enemies? Really? Where did one even find a dragon skeleton, let alone the spells and power to do this? Even with her diversified core, surely this was beyond her... and yet it clearly wasn't.

The battle had ground to a halt when the thing entered, and now as it became clear through their failed efforts that the thing was virtually indestructible, the battle efforts were waning again.

"Tell you what, Midiar." Sabrina offered from where she was standing, behind her fairie enemy and holding a knife to his back. The knife was for show of course, fairies were not flesh and blood. "I'll make you an offer. I'll call off my dragon if you sign that contract." The fairie spit on the ground in response. Sabrina's reply actually came from the dragon skeleton, which had frozen while she was talking and now that she was done suddenly let out a roar, bent down it's colossal head, and ate two of the fairie guards. Everyone watched, stunned, as they simply disappeared.

"You're next." She informed him, offering him the contract again. Reluctantly he took it and signed it, relinquishing his rights to the fairy throne and promising he and his royal fairie guard would remain apart from the human world they inhabited. "Thank you." She said with false sweetness as she took the contract back from him. "We'll be leaving now." She added as the two of us stepped into the flow of the Turtle's Happenings and quickly stepped out again in New York, Earth. I lead the way to the nearest Starbucks, and once we were seated and had the hot drinks to shield us from the chill of the city's winter I had to ask.

"How did you do that?"

"Hmnm?" My question had disturbed her quiet thoughts. "I'm sorry, do what?"

"The dragon?"

"Oh- that." She smiled to herself as though laughing at an untold joke.

"Yes, that."

"I didn't do it. Jaklin and I go way back. She's the only remaining spell of my great-grandmothers. Originally she was a guardian over my grandmother, before she came of age. Then she kept the passage to and from Mororth to keep idiots out and demons in. But she wasn't designed for that sort of thing, so when I exorcised them I set her to guarding the Kailyn Pass. And I say she's been doing a mighty good job of it. I just borrowed her from her post to help me against Midiar."

"And that's the other thing I don't get. How'd she affect the fairies? I thought they could only be attacked by fairys."

"That's the beauty- she couldn't hurt them. But she distracted them enough to turn the tides."

"Not hurt..." I was speechless. "She ATE two of them!"

"No- not really. I just transported them to another dimension.” She gave me a sly smile. "Honestly, Michael, shut your gaping mouth before it becomes a fly trap." I snapped my jaw shut.

We sat in silence for a long moment while I tried to see how I could have missed it. Honestly... of course that's all she'd done. And I'd heard of the skills of her great-grandmother... they said lasting animations was the only type of magic she studied... Finally I gained enough composure to have the final word.

"Next time I'm just not going to ask." Sabrina smiled her sly, knowing smile again and I didn't know whether to be thankful I had such a cool step-sister or mad that even without speaking she had taken the final word from me.

---

Another Sabrina/Michael run. Man I love these two. The only problem is that I enjoy all these prompts too much, and aren't working on the actual story line. Such is life though. I did name it! This story is now tentively called Echoes of the Future.
~Saphyre
For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus…
For by grace you have been saved through faith… it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.
Please always feel free to critique anything I write as I am by no means perfect!

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