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A Roleplayer's Contest - Scene Portrait
gbachura
Member, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Hero Users, Neverwinter Guardian Users, Silverstars Posts: 81
As promised, I deliver.
The second contest in the series.
Scene Portrait
I have long admired the artistic talents of others, and the contests that have been conducted by others to award the efforts of highly talented graphic artists. However, I am a writer, so the goal is different. I want you to paint me a portrait with your words, of a scene between any D&D character of yours and a Mindflayer, Dragon, or Beholder. (See what I'm doing here?)
The second contest in the series.
Scene Portrait
I have long admired the artistic talents of others, and the contests that have been conducted by others to award the efforts of highly talented graphic artists. However, I am a writer, so the goal is different. I want you to paint me a portrait with your words, of a scene between any D&D character of yours and a Mindflayer, Dragon, or Beholder. (See what I'm doing here?)
Guidelines/Tips
- Minimum 1500 words.
- Be clear with your word usage.
- Make me feel like I'm really there, watching this scene take place.
- Thrill me, chill me, or make me laugh. Or do all three!
- Be unique, original, and try to avoid using overdone tropes.
- Feel free to include artwork illustrating your words.
- Submit your work to this thread NO LATER THAN 4/23/13 - 5:00 pm CST
- Must remain in line with forum rules/regulations and be in good taste.
Rewards/Awards
- First place shall receive a Guardian Founder's Pack.
- Second place shall receive a Starter's Pack and be featured in my next UGC.
- Third place shall receive a Starter's Pack.
Disclaimer
In order for me to reward prizes, you will be required to have a paypal account in order for me to transfer the appropriate amount into your account so you can purchase the prize yourself, should you win. If you are not able to do this, you are forfeit from the contest prizes but can still participate if you want to show off your talent!
As I am the judge of the contest, I want you to understand that by participating you agree that you are submitting your own unique work, are not plagiarizing in part or whole from any other works or IP. You are agreeing to be featured on the forums here.
And finally, have fun! If you have any questions, you can PM me from here.
Credit to original artwork by Michael Whelan, go check out his stuff it's awesome!
►● Characters ●◄
♠ Talrik Threefinger ♠ Eredis Mal ♠ Soltyrr Do'rret ♠
Try my Foundry Jumping Puzzles!
Post edited by gbachura on
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Comments
All the entries are well worth the read, but not everyone can win. It was a very tough decision, so much so that I had to read these and think about it overnight. So, on the day of the games release...
With much pleasure I announce the following winners!
1st Place: Druid2009, for your use of strong imagery and ability to use your words to really make me feel as if I was there on the hill, watching the tussle between nature and dragon take place. In the future however, think about whether or not all these small birds of nature can bring down a mature green dragon.
2nd Place: Seraphimdo, for your unique structure and thrilling sense of the halfling Tannik's duty, courage, and fortitude. I was initially confused and taken aback by the start (though admittedly I was amused by the style), but once I understood where you were going with it, I was completely hooked. I hope you tell more tales about Tannik!
3rd Place: Sentrickvoluptua, for your amusing dialogue and sense of adventure. I kept wondering if someone was going to die, or if that dwarf Dak was going to get so fed up with being the muscle and emergency rope-holder go-to guy that he would just let them all fall into the abyss! Definitely worth the read, but consider finding ways to keep the reader enthralled through the entire plot.
Togabitohelwar - You had a very interesting concept and I appreciated that you took a more non-combat route with your story. I encourage you to continue to flesh out this story and give it stronger imagery. Remember, when writing, less description can sometimes mean more to the reader.
Deathssickle - I can tell you have a lengthy back story for this character of yours. I was left wanting to know more about the story, though I understand you felt constrained by the time limit. I definitely feel you should continue to flesh out the plot and give us more to chew on, figuratively speaking.
Daxx360 - I reveled in the combat you laid out for me, though I was left wondering what the purpose was of the encounter. I did appreciate the mystery at the end, as I personally feel stories do not always need a strong conclusion. Consider cleaning up the combat and giving us more insight into the subtext narrative.
Credit to original artwork by Michael Whelan, go check out his stuff it's awesome!
►● Characters ●◄
♠ Talrik Threefinger ♠ Eredis Mal ♠ Soltyrr Do'rret ♠
Try my Foundry Jumping Puzzles!
You can enter this one as well. Everyone has a chance at winning.
Credit to original artwork by Michael Whelan, go check out his stuff it's awesome!
►● Characters ●◄
♠ Talrik Threefinger ♠ Eredis Mal ♠ Soltyrr Do'rret ♠
Try my Foundry Jumping Puzzles!
Thanks for running this great contest!
Check out SHADOW on YouTube!
Kobalos walked through the cave in complete darkness and deep silence. He felt the moist lichens with the bare soles of his feet and the cold spreading through his legs to his body. The next step he made he stomped into a pointy rock that opened a wound in his flesh almost an inch deep, but he didn't even flinch, didn't mutter any complain, didn't halt the pace.
For the first time in a while, he could actually hear his own voice inside his head, instead of those of others, and was utterly happy about that. He didn't want to spoil it, feel the shackles again, lose himself in the darkness once more. Not now that he actually had the chance to end it once and for all.
He couldn't' see anything, but it didn't matter because his master could do, and he was controlling him. There were four of them, mind slaves. One was Kobalos, and he knew one of the others was Dragonborn like himself, but due to separation or simply the absence of light he never saw him and never had been free enough to talk to him. He just recognized the smell, and the sounds that the claws at his feet made when they walked where most similar. At least he hoped he was right. It would have been helpful to be sure of anything in the situation he was, even if it was something as trivial as that.
The other two where some half breed of orcs with some disgusting creatures of the shade plane. Mixed with magic and horrible science, because nature wouldn't have allowed it. That he knew for certain, because the sole existence of the creatures was pain. His master was always boasting about how he only was powerful enough to dull the pain they felt to a level where it wasn't unbearable and they didn't die of a heart attack.
Sometimes Kobalos left himself fantasy about freedom, and even thought what should he do with the pair of abominations, and the most compassionate he could think of, was cutting their head off for a fast death and an eternity of peace. But that chain of thought brought him somewhere he shouldn't be, so he discarded it.
He felt as if lightning run through his foot and leg, due to the injury, and tried so hard to ignore it, but he started to limp, even if it was an unnoticeable amount, and his master felt it.
The four of them where carrying a litter, with their Mindflayer master in it and he was in the mind of the four of them. Kobalos wasn't limping enough for him to really physically notice, but because he was in his head, he knew that he was doing it, so he just reinforced his control on his slave, stripping him of his capacity to limp. But not taking the pain away. He would never do that.
Their master kept them useful and at the peak of their capacity, making them the most efficient. But counter pain, make them feel good, or happy, he always said that was a waste of his power. For him, his slaves were not even that, where empty vessels that he could fill with his mind and his control, and use like the tools they were born to be. They were no longer sentient beings, and the fact that they were living beings was more of a nuisance than an advantage, because he had to fed them, and they grew old and useless.
The only reason why they still had their mind, even if chained and locked, was that this way he need not to control absolutely every action, like the beat of the hearts, the movement of the lungs, or menial tasks like eating or emptying their bladders. They could be sent on small tasks like brooming, opening doors or windows, without having to control every single of their muscles and organs. Kobalos was sure that if it weren't for that nuisance, his mind would already be destroyed and with a little luck, his soul would have left his body to go to Bahamut. But there he was, stuck in a body that was his own no more.
Aside for the complete lack of freedom, even inside his own head, his life wasn't as hard as it could be. His master was proud of his acquisitions and liked them in the most perfect condition. He fed them properly, even if it was the same odd food day after day, took care of their health as much as possible, kept them clean and well rested. In particular he liked to have big bulgy slaves besides him, and usually took Kobalos with him. So he was specially taken care of, he was groomed every day, had a medical exam almost once a week and was being dressed with fine clothes. Revealing clothes that showed most of his bluish, gray scales and skin, and his toned muscles.
He was being used as a show off, because any conflict among mindflayers would be dealt with inside their minds, but Kobalos was thankful of that anyways.
At the beginning, being with his master all the times was like a nightmare for him, because while he worked on his old tasks, his body had never been his to control, but he had his mind for himself. He often left it go to the past, in times where he had not been a fool enough to go near the Underdark and lived with his family in the surface, under the light of the sun. Some other times he left his mind wonder around the possibilities of an escape, and the future. He had at least that.
The constant presence of his master denied him of that at first, his thoughts were being shut down constantly, his mind assaulted every minute, as his master wanted him to be silent. As he used to say: "Don't think, obey, and you should be rewarded with the freedom of having a thought or two"
With time Kobalos learned. His direct orders where simple: "follow me", "stand there", "stretch your muscles", "grunt", "carry this", etc... That left him more room in his mind to think, but that was exactly what he had to avoid. He acquired the skill to think of nothing, and he finally was rewarded with some room to his own thoughts. Some fragment of his mind that wasn't constantly read by his master, where he could be himself. Even take some decisions for himself. Like walking at his master's left or right, or what kind of clothes would he want to dress. And that glimpse of freedom was a blessing, that was what kept him sane, and kept the flames of hope alive in him.
Was in this dark corner of his own brain where he stored his plan to flee his master. And this, right now, was the chance he had been waiting for years. That's why he was trying so hard not to claim his master's attention, and why he felt angry with himself when his master reinforced his control, forbidding him to limp. The moment he noticed his master presence, he emptied his mind almost completely, just leaving there some thoughts about the weight of the litter and the cold of his feet, wishing that his master where satisfied by those and didn't search in his little mind pocket.
But he didn't, he left his mind with this new ban and Kobalos kept walking with the same amount of supervision he usually had.
Thankfully, his plan could continue.
Their destination was the duergar "city" nearby. One of his masters pets was ill, and none of his medic slaves knew how to heal it, so they where to fetch a duergar priest, to perform a clerical ritual to cure the beast. Kobalos didn't know why his master didn't make one of the priests his slave, instead of going there to fetch them and pay them money for it. Maybe some kind of pact or alliance, or maybe gods didn't forge miracles summoned by the hands of a puppet. Who knows.
They were traveling through the caves in complete darkness to avoid attracting any monsters, as usual, because the way to the duergar compound was full of nasty creatures, mostly phase beasts. And even if his master was completely able to take over their minds even before they realized the group's presence, he already had some of those and had no use for more, and thought that having to subdue them was a nuisance he would gladly avoid.
But Kobalos wasn't counting on that anyway.
The duergar compound was far, but still in the Mindflayer's territory. They lived in a huge cave in which a castle could be fitted in, that had only two accesses. One, on the top of the chamber that connected almost directly with the Upperdark, and the other on a side of it, a narrow path that went along one of the walls for one side, and had a huge chasm on the other side. The chasm ended in another room that was full of stalagmites, sharp and pointy as lances, and Kobalos knew that when the duergars need to make an execution, threw the poor soul over the chasm, to the monstrous needles. That was the way they were coming in, the most direct from the house of his master.
And that was Kobalos' plan. There was one single point in the narrow path that was too low for they to carry the litter over their shoulders as their master liked, so they were expected to leave the transport on the floor and rise it again, up to their hip. This was his only chance, the last chance he would have of freedom.
For that chance, he had been the most loyal of the servants - not physically, because he served he liked it or not, but mentally. He didn't even think of escaping, rebelling, or anything at all. He gave his master reasons enough, through his twenty years of servitude, to trust him. To gave him his little pocket of privacy, and he would use this single shot right then.
That morning, when he learned where they were going, he dared to made a choice. He chose to be on the side of the litter that would be nearest to the chasm, forcing the other Dragonborn to go to the other side while he had already grabbed that handle. He expected a full scan of his master, but he didn't. Probably thought that Kobalos was just being lazy, or rude to the other one of his kind.
They reached the point, and Kobalos felt his own nerves trying to betray him, but he kept them under control.
They started to let the litter on the floor, to grab it differently and be able to carry it for the final section of the cave.
Then he felt the presence of his master lifting just a little bit, as he had expected and experienced many times before. The orc halfbreeds suffered many pains when they crouched, and his master had to reinforce his control on them or they would lose strength due to the pain, and let the litter fall.
Kobalos inhaled deeply, and without thinking it twice, not giving his master a chance to know what was about to happen and avoid it, he jumped off the cliff.
The fall was eternal. Under any other circumstances, any other one would have screamed, yelled, begged the gods for mercy and a miracle. But Kobalos was full of joy and happiness. He actually thanked Bahamut for giving him that chance to be free, and asked only for the atrocious needles to be nearer and reach his liberation once and for all. He felt the air moving through his skin, and that was a feeling he almost didn't remember, because twenty years separated him from the surface. He supposed that was a good feeling to concentrate on, rather than the impending pain, so he did.
But the pain never came, and the wind stopped. Before he even could ask himself what happened, he felt his master laugh in his mind. It was not a real laugh, because the creature wasn't capable of that sound, but in his mind voice, he had one, and was an stirring and unnerving one. He felt himself flying upwards, moved by an invisible force that left him standing beside the litter. The laugh changed into some words.
Kobalos was stripped of any freedom of mind and body again, and carried the palanquin, not able to even feel sorry for himself, or being disappointed, helpless. He just knew his own name, and that he had been free in the past, and he would never be in the future. That, on his own, was another torture.
Shadow - A secret Neverwinter Cabal for those who thirst for wealth and power.
Or maybe we're just terribly lazy people and lack creative flow right now?
Anyways, awesome to have at least one person willing to put something out there. Remember, the contest still runs until tomorrow at 5:00 pm CST.
Cheers!
Credit to original artwork by Michael Whelan, go check out his stuff it's awesome!
►● Characters ●◄
♠ Talrik Threefinger ♠ Eredis Mal ♠ Soltyrr Do'rret ♠
Try my Foundry Jumping Puzzles!
Anyone still searching for guilds you can check out HCG Hardcore Christian Gamers.
NW FAQ | HCG NW Host Site
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
I don't know how good of a writer I am, but this is good practice if nothing else! It's my dream to get a book published someday.
I should have this posted tonight or early hours in the morning.
_________________
After awaking I decide I might as well visit the tavern. Walking into The Source Stone Tavern, I find myself fighting off the memories of my past, glad that "Surf" the odd mindflayer living in the city can no longer read your mind even if he were to remove and eat it. The collar is increasingly annoying, but I must wear it to make him continue to think he can control me subliminally. Yes he wanted the rival Illithids gone, but I also needed to get rid of them.
If I am to be released from my birthright I will need to get rid of Vilandra, and that would become difficult with Illithid scum trying to take the city at the same time. For now it may be best to lay low Death would just love to see me killed so that he could force me into my birthright to become the Reaper and god of death.
I decide to go and sit down in the warm tavern and talk with Jade, keeping the Mindflayer just inside of peripheral vision. I still dont trust him, then again most dont. He has been in the city for a long time now, Im not sure what he is doing as far as feeding, but I will figure it out.
I already know he "gets a taste" of everyone new to the city, finding out about them and what makes them tick. He has been an asset in battle against the undead. More and more though I question him. Heck Im not even sure who let him into the city.
Those tentacles ugg they keep running through my head, Id hate to have them on my head. Ive never actually seen him devour a brain, but Im not sure what else he would use to sustain himself though.
I decide to go and order a mead at the bar and a plate of mutton with potatoes. After Mandodo hands me the mead and I receive my food I go and sit down close to the fireplace. I begin to eat considering my last encounter with Kelemvor, hopefully he will try to keep me from Death so that he can continue in his position.
My mind starts to wander and returns to the Mindflayer. I wonder why Andre and Pacs let him into their guild, heck The Truthseeker himself doesnt always trust this creature(I wonder if he actually trusts him at all).
As I hear the door open I see Kirik Mikal enter the tavern, no doubt tired from the battles in the city he has been helping in. I wonder what all Surf did the day he "tasted" of his mind. Is he under the Illithids control? I have no idea, I hope to find out who all is very soon.
After finishing my meal I decide to go talk to Zebular and see if he has any news. As I ask him, he tells me,"No news from the front, but Im starting to hear rumors of a valley filled with statues of animals. If you'd like to check it out sometime I'm willing to point you in the right direction to find it if you'd like"
"Maybe later Zeb, I think I'm going to stay here for a while, but I will have a look at it soon enough.
Has he arrived yet?"I asked.
"No I hear he is coming soon though, but Ive been hearing that he is coming since the siege began. He is busy a lot of the time you know." Said Zebular
"Yah, yah... Do you actually believe he is as good as they say?"I said
"I do, my cousin has seen him and believes he could easily kill Vilandra and end the siege." Zeb told me.
"Ok, well I'll talk to you some more later Zeb, I have a lot to think about." I told him
*What am I to do? Would Kelemvor be willing to try to take him?* I think to myself. *I have to make sure he doesnt kill Vilandra. If he does I may be stuck with that stupid birthright, but what to do?*
After a while I decide to go check on the Blacklake District maybe I can get some better info out of the thugs there. They seem to get info from the pirates every so often. One thing is sure though I have to kill Vilandra and if "he" gets in my way of doing it I will kill him myself.
*Oh well lets go check* I think.....
Anyone still searching for guilds you can check out HCG Hardcore Christian Gamers.
NW FAQ | HCG NW Host Site
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
P.S. Having this sort of contest end on World Book Night, is inspired. *tips hat*
A gloved hand slowly rises in the dim light cast forth from the torch behind it, the shuffling footsteps of the group behind the slim man stop. His breath crystallizes in front of his face as he exhales deeply, the sound of the leather hardening, as he closes his fingers into the palm of his hand, crunches in his ears. A shiver runs along the length of his spine as his emerald eyes fix upon the splatters blood freezing to his glove. He gently lifts two fingers up and down, motioning the others to move forward. His jet black hair whips around his neck as his head snaps over his shoulder with a venomous glare, the clattering steel stops as a person clad in full plate slows, taking more care with their steps. “Lower the light, we're close.” Erik whispers in a hushed tone, his gravely voice rumbling in his throat. “About bloody time!” The dwarf smiles as his grip tightens upon the hilt of his great axe. Small crystals of frozen moisture cling to the bottom of his moustache, long black beard matted with the now freezing blood of their previous battle. His missing teeth making something of a fitting addition to the crooked nose that sits upon his pox scared face. “Hildi here needs more than a few Kobolds t'quench her thirst.” His axe gently bobbing up and down as he speaks. The robed elf at the back of the group fiddles nervously with the leather bound tome in his hands. His slender figure little more than a stick like silhouette as he stands draped in the large shadow cast by the eager dwarf. “Then lets keep moving, the sooner we deal with this fiend, the sooner we can head out of this cave. We do NOT like it underground.” A distinctly feminine voice flows from behind the plated helm, almost as if she could feel the elf's eyes burning the back of her head. Erik nods. “I'll take point again. Remember, keep it down. Well, as best you can in...” His head motions the dull grey, scuffed and dented armour that covers the woman from head to toe. “THAT.” She snorts, her warm breath quickly clouding in front of her as it meets the icy air. “Just do your job and you'll get your pick of what we find.” She snarls. “That was the deal, I need no tips from the likes of you.” He shakes his head with a sigh, turning from the group he heads into the darkness of the tunnel ahead.
Before long Erik finds himself walking through a dense low hanging mist, his feet now icy cold even through the soft, padded leather of his boots. As he looks up he realizes the end of the tunnel is in sight, carefully he makes his way onwards. Stopping at the entrance to a huge cavern, he crouches lowering one hand to rest beside his foot, his left pressing gently against the frost covered stone of the wall. He leans forwards, eyes darting around the cavern before him, head slowly twisting from left to right. His right hand pushes behind him, palm flat to the group, the dense mist lifting around his hand, flowing back in a small wave. The footsteps behind him stop as he peers around the corner of the opening. The cavern was much larger than he was expecting, his eyes squint as he peers off into the distance, unable to see it's end in the darkness. As his gaze slowly drifts upward he is just about able to make out the large icicles hanging from the stalactites above him. His head quickly snaps to his left as he swears he caught sight of some movement in the distant darkness. Slowly he motions for the others to make their way up. The left corner of his mouth curls into a small smirk as he catches the slight glint of something golden partially obscured behind a large column in the distance as the groups torch nears.
They huddle at the cavern entrance, Erik motions off to his left, whispering. “There, something moved in the darkness.” His hands slowly move to the daggers hanging from his belt. The dwarf grins, his toothless grin as off putting as ever. “Did you see it?” Asks the heavily armoured woman, shield bound to her arm in front of her, longsword pointing off to her right. “No.” Erik reply’s, shaking his head. “But with the condition of everything around here, I'm sure it's what we thought.” The elf brushes several strands of his long blond hair behind his ear before quickly opening his tome. “Okay, that's okay. We've prepared for this.” His nervous tone giving him away as he try’s to calmly leaf through the pages. “I'll go first.” Erik says drawing his daggers. “I'll stay in view and signal when I've found it. Be ready to move in as soon as I do.” The woman and dwarf nod, the elf to busy muttering to himself as he reads.
No sooner does Erik turn the corner than an almighty roar resounds throughout the cavern, followed swiftly by the beating of leathery wings as a large white dragon lands almost on top of him. The impact of such a heavy landing set the ground underfoot quivering, a small wave of force knocking the people at the entrance of the cavern to their backs. The beast rears up to it's hind quarters, extending both of it's powerful arms outwards, the right hand directly connecting with Erik's back as he turned to run. His leather armour offering no protection to lessen the impact of the blow, as his feet lift from ground he grunts loudly. Flying through the air his eyes widen as he sees the ground nearing, knowing there was little he can do, he moves his arms in to protect his face what little he can. As he hits the ground with a heavy thud both daggers fly from his hands, head bouncing against his arms as they slam against the cold stone, air leaving his lungs as a very distinct crack can be heard coming from his torso.
The elf however managed to keep a hold on his book as he fell to the ground. He lies on his side, book held open with his left hand, the spine leaning against his forearm, lower edge in the crook of his elbow joint. He begins chanting with a look of determination, a light wind picks up around him causing the edges of the pages to flutter slightly. The words begin to glow with a fiery intensity as he casts his gaze upon the underside of the dragon, it eclipsing the entrance before him. His right hand rises beside his head, fingers flexing, his flowing blond hair swirling about him as the letters fly from the page and gather in his hand. The dragon drops back to all fours, steely blue eyes staring down the tunnel. It's jaws begin to open, as they do the elf thrusts his hand forth, sending a fiery bolt flying over his companions and directly toward the dragon. The bolt explodes into a large flaming screen blocking off the tunnel in front of the dragon. The beast expels a deep breath, shards of ice and freezing air clashing against the fire of the wizards shield. The elf’s shoulders slump slightly as his breathing deepens, his head flicks back up as his arm tenses, quivering slightly he yells out. “Aaaarrrrrggghhhhh!” As he struggles to maintain the shield against the continued onslaught.
When the dragon finally retracts it's head the elf flops back, panting heavily, his book rests open against his chest. The armour clad woman pulls herself back to her feet and rushes over to the elf, kneeling before him, trying as best she can to keep them both behind her shield. “You good Kargen?” She calls out. “Aye lass, just ye see t'yer man there.” The dwarf replies, already on his feet he runs straight toward the dragon, screaming out a roar as he pulls his large axe back around to his right. The dragons head lowers and snaps out at Kargen as he nears, he quickly drops into a slide, his left shoulder just catching the edge of one of the dragons large, white teeth. As it connects with his exposed flesh, it slices through him as if he were made of butter. The flesh readily parts as it slides along the tooth, cutting a four inch long line, blood quickly beginning to trickle down his arm. Kargen rolls off to his right from between the legs of the giant beast, running about five feet before turning on a pivot and readying his axe once more. The dragon turns to meet him with an almighty roar, it's stinking breath washing over the dwarf in an icy wave, sending his hair, beard and furs flapping behind him. Kargen simply grins before shouting out. “Lets 'ave ye beastie!” And charges it once more.
Erik rolls onto his back coughing as he gasps for air. His dark leather armour ripped and torn along his arms and legs, he crawls after his daggers. Forcing himself to his feet once he has both daggers firmly in hand, he turns to see the scaled rear of the dragon, with a quick shake of his head in an attempt to regain focus he sets off into a sprint. As he nears the back of the dragon he kicks off the ground, leaping into the air he hurls his body directly for it's rear right leg. Clattering in against the hard, rough scales of the dragons leg, he drives both daggers into it's flesh to their hilt. The dragon roars out in pain as Erik hangs limply from it's hind leg, clinging with all he has to his daggers. Kargen leaps into the air as the dragon retracts it's head, roaring. Twisting to his right as he goes sailing past the left side of the dragons head, he swings his axe with all his might, catching the underside of it's jaw the axe slices into the dragons thick white scales. Cleaving into the flesh beneath, the axe stops dead, causing the Kargen to twist out of control as it connects with bone. He continues to fly through air as he begins to fall backwards, smacking off the dragons muscular left arm, before bouncing to the ground with a low grunt.
“Arannis are you alright?” The armour clad woman asks worriedly as she looks back over her shoulder to the elf. “I'm fine!” He replies as he leans up on his elbow. “Go, aid them. Do what we came here to do. I'll join you as soon as I catch my breath.” He pushes his left hand out against her lower back as he pins his book to his chest with his upper arm. “Now, go!” She looks down over him, expression hidden behind her helm. “But I-” She begins. “Gwenn. GO!” He yells with a stern expression. She nods once and rises to her feet, making her way toward the fight, shield held firmly in front of her. Arannis shakes his head as he slowly pushes himself to his knees.
The dragon arches it's back as it twists and writhes from the blow to it's face. Erik's body flails about against it's rear leg as he desperately clings to his daggers. Gwenn manages to near the dragon unnoticed, she keeps her shield raised high, sword drawn back, gaze fixed on it's front right arm. As it lowers itself back down onto all fours, she strikes, thrusting her sword up into the soft underside of it's right hand. The dragon roars out once more as the sword is embedded up to it's hilt, it twists it's arm as it's retracted, the sword stuck firm. Gwenn keeps her shield held above her head as she runs off to her right and into the cavern. Erik pulls his right hand back, removing the dagger with it, he swings his arm up, driving it in once more, higher upon the bulging right leg of the dragon as it glares down at Gwenn. He follows it again with his left hand, extending that arm up past his right now.
The dragon leans back on it's hind legs, raising it's left arm across it's stomach before swinging it out towards the charging dwarf. He tries to lift his arms to protect him from the impending blow, to no avail. The back of the dragons left hand strikes Kargen square on, a knuckle connecting with his lower jaw with a loud crunch. It sends him hurtling back, crashing into one of the nearby stalagmites, the back of his head cracks against the solid stone and he slowly falls to the ground against the stone. A large red smear streaks down after him, blood pooling around his stout body, the edges already beginning to crystallize. Meanwhile Erik continues to scale the back of the dragon with the use of his daggers. As the dragon reaches around to it's back, trying to swat him off, Gwenn pulls a small glass flask from a pouch on her belt, a thick orange liquid gently sloshing within. Seeing her opportunity she hurls the flask up towards the dragon, as it connects with it's chest, it shatters open, the contents liberally coating the scales. They begin to bubble and blister as the smell of burning reptilian flesh fills the air, droplets fall to the stone beneath the dragon causing it to bubble and hisses, steam rising from them. With yet another resonating roar of pain the dragon takes in a deep breath, turning it's gaze down to Gwenn, it beats it's wings once, kicking up a large gust of wind in her direction. As it does Erik kicks himself from the side of the dragons back, ripping both daggers free as he does with a small spurt of blood, turning mid-air he heads straight for the leathery membrane of the dragons right wing. His body bounces flat against it, daggers piercing it like paper, swiftly he plummets towards the ground, cutting as he goes. The dragon being thrown off balance twists and turns to it's right as it expels another icy blast from it's gaping maw, narrowly missing it's target as she dives to the side, it trails along the wall of the cavern and directly down the tunnel.
Arannis looks up from his book, quickly muttering an incantation as he sees a blizzard of ice and wind heading right for him. “Nooooooooooo!” Gwenn screams out as she witnesses the icy breath flowing into the tunnel. When the dragon halts his assault, the mist clears and in the tunnel stands a glistening, sculpture-like representation of what was once a proud, young, elven wizard. The dragons gaze shifts to Erik, who is once again laying flat on his back, staring up at the dragons bloodied face. As it leans it's head back, jaws wide open, about to lunge in at him, a fury filled woman charges in toward the dragon and rips her sword free from it's palm tearing it through the side, parting flesh in a crimson spray. The dragon winces mid lunge, it's head twisting slightly, causing it's face to go crashing into the wall of the cavern. The walls rumble from the impact, the ground and ceiling soon following suit. A large icicle breaks free from a low hanging stalactite, it comes crashing down upon the broken body of Kargen, impaling him before shattering into tiny shards of blood stained ice. Gwenn roars out, and in a blind rage begins hacking and slashing into the dragons right arm, each blow slicing through chunks of flesh and scale, her armour slowly turning red with each coating of blood that sprays from fresh wounds.
The dragon spins on the spot, swiping Gwenn back with it's blood soaked arm, sending her skidding along the ground, her steel armour clanking and banging as she bounces over the rocky bumps, almost loosing her grip on her longsword. It leans back a little and beats it's wings, kicking up a large thin cloud of dust and ice particles as it try's to take off into the air but only manages to lift six feet off the ground before the membrane of it's damaged wing tears under the pressure, causing it to fall back to the ground. Erik drags himself up to his knees, leaning heavily against the cold wall of the cavern, crying out in pain as he presses a hand to his ribs. Hunched over he coughs and splutters as blood fills his mouth, flowing past his lips it passes down over his chin, coating his delicately styled goatee before splattering on the ground between his knees. Seeing an opportunity as the dragon appears grounded, Gwenn pulls herself to her feet and charges in once more. The dragon turns it's head to face her and leans it back, opening it's mouth and preparing for another chomping lunge. She pays no attention to her shield, now hanging from her arm by a single leather strap, and grips her sword in both hands. With her bent and buckled helm impeding her vision, she powers on, gaze fixed on her mark. The dragons head lunges forth as she nears, head tilted to the side and jaws wide. As they pass either side of her, she thrusts her sword out and into the roof of the dragons mouth, the blade erupts through the top of it's jaw, spraying a fine red mist across it's eyes. As blood gushes out into it's open mouth, dripping between it's teeth and staining the stone below, it clenches it's jaws and with the sound of crumpling metal they close around the woman's torso. She screams out in agony as the dragons teeth crush and penetrate her armour. While her body forces the blade deeper into the roof of the dragons mouth, it rears up with her between it's teeth and thrashes it's head from side to side before releasing her. Sending her crashing into the wall of the cavern her helmet crumples as it connects with solid stone, a distinct crack echoes through the cavern a her neck bends back on itself, allowing her shoulders to crunch into the wall before her body falls to the ground beside Erik.
A deafening roar resounds through the cavern as the dragon rears up and beats it's large leathery wings, whipping up a blast of cold air that knocks Erik from his knees back onto his back. The dragon slams down above him, it's head tilting slowly as it stares at him with an almost inspecting gaze. It's jaws still forced slightly open by the embedded sword, each panting breath send a wave of cold air flowing over Erik, chilling him to his very bones. It slowly moves it's left hand over him, gently lowering it to pin him in place. Erik stares up, eyes filled with fear, he looks on in horror while his hands scrabble to find his daggers. The dragon watches curiously as Erik takes a hold of his daggers and stabs down into the sides of it's fingers. The dragon snorts and slowly presses down, three more ribs crack under the pressure, Erik coughs and splutters again, more blood spurting up from between his lips and back over his face. He continues to stab out at a slower pace now, focusing what little he can muster on each strike. Still the dragon continues to slowly crush him against the icy ground of the cavern. Erik screams out, blood gargling in his throat before finally falling limp, his head flops to the side, blood trickling from his mouth and pooling around it.
The dragon slowly turns and makes it's way back behind one of the huge stone columns where a large pile of golden coins, gems, various armour and weapons rest, it pants heavily before closing it's eyes. Up above this pile stands a tall, slim, humanoid figure upon a small ledge on one of the outcrops cloaked in the darkness. It watches for several moments before slowly turning and and walking off into one of the tunnels leading off at the back of the cavern, robes and cloak flowing behind it.
Edit: Gave it a proof read this morning when I woke and made some minor corrections/alterations as well as fixing the names.
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Encounter of the not so Random Kind: Portrait within a Portrait.
Telvashias McGlade sat cross-legged. The soft grass beneath him proved to be a comfortable cushion. A large wooden bowl filled to the brim with clear undisturbed water lay before him. A cool breeze sends a dry leaf skittering past him. The warm afternoon sunlight kisses the exposed tattooed flesh of his hands and face. He is clothed in a common travelling robe of green hue, faded slightly with the wear and tear of constant wandering. Several feet away from him sleeps his wolf companion, dreaming about hunting prey in some distant forest or field, next to him lays a twisted staff made of rare Darkwood. Nearby trees gently sway in the wind, a calming left to right motion, almost hypnotic to look at. Birds chirp their woes and delights to the world as others reply in kind. Placed around him in a circle formation are smaller bowls of herbs and lit candles, remains of burnt herbs send their smoky scents drifting on the breeze. A cobbled path lies not too far from him, winding its way down the small hill they currently occupy. The cobbled path ends with an old stone church devoted to an unknown deity. Its bell tilted to the side as loud ringing sounds emit from it signaling the time of day, perhaps an event of some kind or simply announcing that a service will begin shortly. From the old church a bumpy dirt road leads to the east and out of sight, the land around it is covered in a blanket of dark green grass, with a healthy abundance of other types of flora, indicating that the ground is rich with nutrients, a perfect place for a farming community to set up residence.
In his left hand he holds a carved wooden symbol displaying his devotion to the goddess of druids and forests, the deity known as Mielikki. Held in his right hand is an unraveled scroll upon which is written the sacred words needed to cast an advanced spell of foresight so that he may pierce the veil of time and peer into his future to see what it holds, in search of an answer to a question. Written with a fine hand at the bottom of the parchment is the question for which he seeks an answer “A great evil brings sorrow to this land, what must I do to bring back the balance so harmony can be achieved once again?”, Tevashias’ facial expression is one of nonchalance as the still water’s surface forms a depiction of ferocity. Before him lies a portrait of what is to come. He studies the image; becomes one with it, feeling it, living it...
Beams of sunlight stream down from between the tree branches above, the forest around them alive and thick with colorful flora. Autumn has begun to clutch the world around them. Its touch is easily identified by Telvashias; it is similar to that of an old lover, an embrace unlike any others. The surface below his feet is cooling as the sun reaches the halfway point in its slow descent to the west, soon it will be casting its bright warmth upon faraway lands. Ancient Oak trees surround him on all sides. Boasting thick brown bark needed protect them from the elements while providing the nourishment on the inside that the trees require to survive and flourish. Just moments before birds were singing their songs as they basked in the gift of being alive, their songs can no longer be heard. Roots protrude from the earth at seemingly random locations, giving the impression of a far spanning network of tendrils below the surface. Nearby a colony of ants dutifully go about their daily business, each ant doing their bit to ensure their community thrives and everyone is provided for in different ways.
Holding his twisted Oaken staff aloft, the wandering druid Telvashias kneels while he speaks the language of the divine, sacred words only known to him and those of his kind, the teachings of his one true mother, Mielikki. With his free hand set as a claw, he tears into the earth below him, feeling the rich brown dirt between his fingers as he hastily forms the symbol of a great summoning spell onto the ground. The divine symbol glows a pale green as godly essence gifted unto him by his mother courses through his body and into the sacred hieroglyph, sending forth the call, a summons to help him in battle against a great foe of terrible evil, a Green Dragon.
The great beast which rears before him would without a doubt cast fear into many a man and creatures hearts alike. Its huge body covered in dark green scales, its long spear tipped tail lashing back and forth behind it with the ferocity only a matured Dragon could conjure. The Dragons large wings spread outwards at its sides as it buffets the area, lifting dirt and leaves up into the air, obscuring each other slightly from view and casting a wide shadow along the ground enveloping the man and beast that stand before it.
The ancient trees no longer slumber as below the Dragon burst forth roots from the earth. The thick dirt covered tendrils wrap around the powerful hind legs of the Dragon. The Dragons muscles bulge as it strains against oppressive vines which have wrapped around its huge lizard-like body, constricting the beast as though they were massive anacondas attempting to squeeze the life out of their prey before they feast on its corpse. The vines thorny defense scrapes across the Dragons green armor, the combined strength of root and vine anchor the Dragon to the ground, taking away its freedom of movement. The great beast can no longer open its massive maw as it is sealed shut by the vines assault. The Dragon frantically uses its front claws in an attempt to tear away the vines which hold shut its mouth, stopping it from using its mightiest weapon, the dreaded breath attack that Dragons are infamous for. A green gas seeps out from its flaring nostrils, creating a haze around its snout. The acidic gas causing the vines to slowly dissolve, revealing to its enemies the corrosive power it has at its command. The Dragons eyes, large marbles of amber, fill with a mad panicked rage as the turmoil unfolds.
The dense woods surrounding the combatants explode as creatures summoned begin their onslaught. Wolves with coats of grey and white come bounding through the brush, darting between trees with an agility bordering on the uncanny. The wolves’ claws rip into the turf as they charge towards the Dragon. Their jaws snap open and shut sending forth guttural barks and growls. Their feral eyes lock upon their entangled prey as they all share a single thought, “Today... we feast!”. The wolf pack has been summoned to this place to help their brothers in need, and they will answer with tooth and claw. The pack moves in unison, two brother’s attack from the left flank of the Dragon as two female wolves attack from the Dragons right side. A lone male wolf strikes from the rear, attempting to pin the lashing tail of the beast only to be rewarded with a bone crunching blow as the Dragons tail collides with its would be oppressor.
-Telvashias-
"The wind...It whispers a name. Come, let us hunt." -Unknown Pack.
From beside Telvahsias his companion pounces into fray, his one true friend in this world, a Dire Wolf of midnight colored fur and of larger stature than his allied wolf brethren that attack the Dragons flanks. Its eyes a deep red such as those of the demons that plague children’s nightmares, they hold the fiery fury that only a loved would could possess when protecting their family against another with harmful intentions. Exposing teeth the size of daggers as it opens its jaws, the Wolf pounces forth at the great scaled beast’s throat. Images of a swift kill fill his mind, intensifying his primal feelings. His hind legs press hard towards the earth below his paws. The wolfs claws split the ground as they help the animal find purchase and aid him in his deathly lunge. In mere seconds he will fly through the air with clear intentions, to protect, to kill.
From the tree canopies above and avian army launches itself into flight with a chorus of deafening squawks. Sensing the danger from the powerful exchange below them, they fear for their survival. A Squirrel drops an acorn as fear overcomes it, a precious treasure to one such as it, the acorn was destined to join its horde, and eventually fill its belly when hunger took hold. The acorn tumbles towards the carnage taking place near the tree which the terrified squirrel calls home. A violent gust of wind given birth to by the huge Dragons flapping wings rip leaves of many shaded colors from their place of leverage. The leaves drift and swirl towards and away from the arena below, brown dances with green as yellow and orange embrace in a fleeting moment; nature adding is vibrant touch to the chaos.
Above the sky is clear of cloud, revealing a carpet of deep blue. If man and beast below were not engaged in a savage struggle to survive, if they would but look to the heavens above, they would discover that peaceful tranquility awaits their gaze.
Dire Wolf, Image done by Patrick McEvoy, can be found at www.epilogue.net. I take no credit.
-Telvashias-
"The wind...It whispers a name. Come, let us hunt." -Unknown Pack.
As of writing this (7:33 am CST) there is still about 9 hours to enter. Keep 'em coming, or edit yours to perfection if that's your dealio!
Credit to original artwork by Michael Whelan, go check out his stuff it's awesome!
►● Characters ●◄
♠ Talrik Threefinger ♠ Eredis Mal ♠ Soltyrr Do'rret ♠
Try my Foundry Jumping Puzzles!
That was a good idea, and I have indeed made some small alterations to my entry (A.K.A please give it another read with these changes
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[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
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“Never drop your shield too early...” The first lesson rang through the little halfling’s mind as he gripped tight to the shield in front of him. He dared to peek over the rim when suddenly he felt the first impact, then the second, and finally a third. Ice and snow billowed around the edges in the aftermath of the assault. The crackling snap of great skeletal wings began to rise in crescendo from a short distance off, now was his chance. The little guardian sprang from his fortification with wooden sword held high. The day would be his! Across the field his father flapped the wings of the dragon puppet. The ‘beast’ hovering a moment before taking flight. The boy had just a moment to slash at the underbelly of his foe before it would fly too high. The boy couldn’t know if the monster would choose to land again. With great effort he stretched to graze the tail of the fearsome creature. The father struggle to keep the puppet a loft and out of reach of his daring boy.
“A mighty swing, but Dracoliches care not for strikes to their tail! Shield up, his counter attack is swift!” A flourished motion and the puppet’s tail lashed back at the halfling boy. His reflexes did not betray him as his shield came to bare just in time to take the blow. The game was afoot, however, and with excellent dramatic effort the boy flung himself back into the fresh northern snow. Sprawled on his back, his shield a few feet away he watched as the clacking brittle beast circled to strike again. The boy’s eyes narrowed with purposeful intent. As the dragon’s head came around to fire, the young halfling rolled to the side to dodge the first snowball his father would throw. The second clipped the boy in the shoulder just as he brought his shield arm up. Horrified he looked at his arm as he feigned the frost encasing his limb. Gritted teeth and a roar of defiance were all a guardian of the north would need to break such enchantments. The boy howled and brought his wooden sword down upon his own shoulder. The imagined entombment shattered to the furious blow.
“Dragon! I will slay you this day! For you have underestimated the primary strength of a guardian of the north.” The boy stood defiant in the snow. He imagined the back of his tunic billowed as a great cape would in the frigid winds.
“Oh? What would one as small as thee have over a great and powerful Dracolich?” His father used his best evil voice while hiding his face behind the hovering puppet.
“The support of the party I lead! Archers, wizards, unleash your fury!” His sword thrust forward toward the dragon’s heart, guiding the various missiles his army would fire. The dragon buffeted its wings in rebuke, certainly turning away some of the attack. A dreadful hiss emerged from the beast as it twisted violently and began its descent back to the snowy ground. It fell hard and slid a great scar into the pristine white of the powdered snow. The head of the nearly slain beast struggled to raise and look up at the soon to be victorious halfling.
“I will...*cough* return...” The dragon spoke ominously. With a final thrust of his splintered blade, the boy slew the great beast. A moment of silent levity hung over the scene before it broke into fitful giggles. The father hoisted his son into the air for a victory cheer.
“You will be a dragonslayer yet my boy.” His eyes beamed with love and pride.
“Just like you dad?”
“Just like me, Tannik.”
“Tannik...Tannik? Tannik!”
The halfling looked up still dazed at the armored shell hiding a human. “You have to get up! That thing is coming back around for another pass. We have to move or we’ll end up like the rest of the battalion!”
Tannik looked around the battlefield with foggy eyes. His moment of childhood memory still flashing before his eyes. A rocky outcropping sheltered the two soldiers from the brunt of the blast. Frost covered corpses were strewn about the area. A great line of icy shards looked as though they had simply erupted from the landscape to consume hapless soldiers. The sickening clamour of torn flesh mashing between bewitched bone pulsed rhythmically in the distance. A wooden puppet was a poor representation, he now realized.
“The lines have broken, maybe if we can get back to city walls we can regroup?” The human continued to pull at the halfling’s shoulder, urging his comrade to survive. Tannik loosely groped at his shield handle. His muscles remembered its weight well. His other hand found his sword. It waited peacefully in the snow just beyond his reach. He slid his gloved fingers around the still warm hilt and used the blade as a crutch to pull his heavily armored frame from the dirt.
“We will regroup here. Hold the line.” His words were low but determined.
“Are you crazy? What line!” The soldier threw his empty hands up at the chaos around them.
“If we lead them they will return! Now get yourself together soldier and follow me into the fray.”
“It will chill our blood to ice then snap the veins for just trying. For Gods sake, we were lucky to survive the first blast!”
“I don’t think it has the strength to kill me twice.” Tannik looked up at his human companion with a smile. The final lesson his father had taught him slipped from his lips in a near whisper, “A guardian must be brave for all those that he leads. I will be brave for you, friend, so that you can follow. Now follow!”
Tannik charged out of their shelter and back into the fight. All around him he could now see the small patches of allies that fought the undead horde. Each group with a frightened eye toward the sky. He roared a battle cry as loud and fierce as any man or beast could muster. The eyes turned to him. Their hesitation abolished as they disengaged from the horde to follow the stunted knight. The army pulled together like the break of a boat against water. The bow lead by the point of a halfling sword.
The Dracolich rose in a high arc as it revealed the terrifying marvel of its existence. Blueish grey light blossomed in its chest and eyes. This magic somehow holding together the bare jagged bones of the great beast. It leveled out and came back toward the reforming army. The light in its chest grew brighter upon its approach.
“Archers! Wizards! Fighters!” Tannik called over the chorus of continuing battle, “Unleash your fury...” His sword dropped slowly as his shield came up. Behind him a volley of very real projectiles of all sorts took flight. The once-dragon bore down. Its attack focused on one point.
Hundreds of missiles struck true upon the exposed underside of the creature. Its dive continued as it plowed through the back end of the reformed troops. The undead corpse rolled and stopped in a heap leaving a great furrow in the soil. At the head of the army stood a single stalagmite of ice. The Dracolich’s final victim entombed.
They'll be announced by this evening!
Cheers and thanks to all who participated!
Credit to original artwork by Michael Whelan, go check out his stuff it's awesome!
►● Characters ●◄
♠ Talrik Threefinger ♠ Eredis Mal ♠ Soltyrr Do'rret ♠
Try my Foundry Jumping Puzzles!
Cheers!
Credit to original artwork by Michael Whelan, go check out his stuff it's awesome!
►● Characters ●◄
♠ Talrik Threefinger ♠ Eredis Mal ♠ Soltyrr Do'rret ♠
Try my Foundry Jumping Puzzles!
Shadow - A secret Neverwinter Cabal for those who thirst for wealth and power.
It was a personal choice to focus on the combat, as I wanted it to appear as a single scene from a larger story. So certain things such as who they were, their relationship with each other, and their reason for being there are all things which would have been revealed earlier than right before they met the dragon. I contemplated putting some of it in, but it felt a little tacked on so I decided to leave it out. Thanks for the tip though, and I'm glad you enjoyed little mystery at the end. That is something that would be key, should I ever flesh this scene out into an actual story.
-Telvashias-
"The wind...It whispers a name. Come, let us hunt." -Unknown Pack.