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Linear Story Competition for Feb/March! VOTING BEGINS NOW!
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 23, 2006 2:08 pm    Post subject: Linear Story Competition for Feb/March! VOTING BEGINS NOW! Reply with quote

Ok, folks. Time for another competition. The procedure is the normal drill as follows-

You will have about 3 weeks to write a short story, edit it, and post it for consideration. Submissions should be posted on or before March 17th. Polling begins on March 18th and ends on March 24th.

Proof readers will take your story, break it down, make sure it fits the word limit, grammar, spelling, plot, character development, etc. are all present and correct. This is a voluntary effort and no one person's responsibility. Please make comments and criticisms of entries constructive.

You can make changes to your story all the way up to the final posting date. After that, the stories that have not passed the critique will be disqualified. Those that are left will be put up for a vote for anyone to vote on.

If you win, you get to brag for a whole month. You get a prize of 100 fables, the honor is listed on your profile, and your story is immortalized in the City Auditorium.

This will be run like a professional writing contest. Your story will be edited, picked apart, and thoroughly looked at. If you exceed more than ten spelling or grammar errors, your story will be given back to you to rewrite. So check your work.

If your work goes over the word limit it will be given back to shorten. If it remains the same length it will be disqualified.

If your story does not follow the topic and genre, it will be given back to you to rewrite.

Things that must be right vs. artistic freedom- There are things like plot, and flow that might be your intent. That is totally cool. A proof reader might suggest that you pick up the pace or add more detail here and there. That is your choice to do or not. If you feel the story can stand on its own without change that is fine. Spelling, grammar, genre, word count, etc. are expected to be correct, no exceptions.

If you are proofreading- Look for spelling and grammar mistakes first. Word count comes next. Then answer the following questions for the story.

Did it stay within the genre?
Did it follow the topic?
Did it have a beginning, middle, and an end?

After you have done this feel free to comment on the story as you see fit. Bear in mind that anything beyond what is listed above is pretty much considered opinion. This can be taken or left by the author.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, now that that's done, we have the interesting part, the rules...

Genre- Whatever you like.

Length- up to 1655 words.

Your story must be about a Knight Templar (as in the Crusades) and his descent into madness while featuring the word defenestrate in some form (meaning feel free to add "ed" or "ing" to the end, as long as it's in there.).

For those of you who are wondering-

de•fen•es•trate To throw out of a window
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 23, 2006 4:51 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

ahh, here we are - was wondering when this was going to appear for this month

a Knight's Templar huh, an idea is already forming in my mind
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PostPosted: Fri Feb 24, 2006 1:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I started writing this yesterday Wink :biggrin:
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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 9:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

right - i've got my idea

i'm about half-way through, should have it up soon enough
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PostPosted: Wed Mar 01, 2006 9:14 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

You threw me a saintly knight that's going mad...Jack what were you thinking! Humm I'm going to be rather evil...within word limit of course...





Lousy word limit...
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 9:16 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

time for a bit of shameless advertisim here

EVIL huh? you know, you're in luck. This is the one city in the world that has a cure for over obsessive evil. That's right folks - join the Guild of EVIL and be reborn into your new evil ways, experience the joy and lifestyle that comes from accepting your destiny - and join the Guild.

Sign up here.
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 12:53 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

*cracks knuckles and hefts a giant Wack-A-Mole mallet* Alright you know what I think about the guild of evil...besides I'm not going to let you get away with shamlessly advertising the Guild of evul around here! Go use the Chinad agency or the 'Shameless Advertising' thread!

I guess the only way to really put you in your place is to win this contest isn't it...well then I'm going to go finish my entry and post it up and let's see you choake on that Lordy...

P.S. If I see you shamelessly advertising one more time I will post Fauna's fat fairy pick every time you do until you get the point!*brings mallet down on a giant man eating Wack-A-Mole hard enough to squish it* Next time it'll be on your head...
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 2:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Okay here's my contest entry...
-----------------

Damnation

Rufus spurred his sweating charger onward, ignoring the painful way the desert sun was heating his chain mail. The wind howled past his ears as if in a vengeful chorus for the dead. "Oh James I'm sorry..."

The shadow of the great knight, cast onto the rocky earth by the unforgiving sun, seemed to waver for just a moment before filling out and beginning to run at a very different pace from Rufus's own charger. With a bemused expression on his face he wondered if the light was playing tricks on him.

Yet it was no trick of the light when the shadow became as real as he was, another knight on another charger riding just beside him. The knight, its face red and peeling like some horrible disease infected it, or perhaps, it had been in the sun too long. It saluted him mockingly and whispered to him in a mocking voice. "Oh James, oh James. I'm sorry." It gave him a simpering smile that turned cold and spat in the dust that their horses' hooves churned up.

"Ha! Admit it Rufus! You're not sorry, you enjoyed what you did! You enjoyed killing James. I'll admit defenestrating him was a nice touch...it was such a long way down."

"No it was an accident! An accident I tell you!" Yet beside him the shadow knight rode on laughing an evil laugh. Where Rufus was riding a white charger, his gleaming silver-washed chain mail covered by a white cloth with a brilliant red cross on it hot in the sun, the shadow was riding a black horse of darkness with his rusted chain mail covered by a black sackcloth with a blue cross upside down on it.

"Ah an accident eh? And I suppose you were just having a friendly wrestling match with your fellow knight eh Rufus? Or was it the case of a knight templar, a holy knight of Christendom, being caught drunken and disorderly and trying to keep this knight from reporting it any higher eh? Certainly Richard wouldn't have hesitated taking away your lands and titles to give to some rich benefactor back home."

"No!" Rufus howled in anger and drew his sword, spurring his mount to meet the specter that rode next to him. "Get behind me Satan and trouble me no more." Yet the specter, his face obscured by a mail veil, only laughed that hollow laugh as the sword passed through him again and again.

"Holy knight, holy man, look at your hands! See the blood of thy slain friend on your hands! It will never come off! Not until judgment day when you shall stand before your god with his blood staining your hands!" Rufus felt something warm and wet hit his face. He dropped his massive sword, leaving it sticking out of the desert floor behind him, forgotten.

He gazed at his hands, letting the reins slip unheeded through them. There was blood, weeping, oozing, out from the tiny joints in his gauntlets. It flowed onto his pristine surcoat, staining the white background red, making it look, for all the world, as if the cross itself were melting. "No...no...no..."

"Face it Rufus. Get used to the term Murderer."

"No!" Rufus shouted at the specter. Yet it ringed him, his charging horse seemed as slow as a nag as the specter trotted it's black beast around him chanting in a singsong voice.

"Murderer, murderer, murderer..." Rufus howled in anguish, his frightened charger mad with terror continued it's heedless flight across the desert. Finally the specter moved in so close that his armored leg touch Rufus's, a chill like nothing else emanating from it. As cold as snow in the middle of the desert's heat, the shades breath, reeking of carrion, it's lips touching his ear as it whispered, "Murderer..."

Rufus twisted in his saddle, wrapping the shade in a bear hug, and bringing it with him as he fell to the desert floor. He felt his neck snap as he hit the ground, blood welled from his lips as he said on last time. "Begon Satan."

Slowly the shade laughed. "I'm not Satan Rufus." It drew off it's veil revealing his own face. "I'm you." Suddenly Rufus was back on his horse, though the beast had died not six paces from where he'd fallen, and the pair were charging across the desert eternally plagued by the dark specter and it's mocking call.

His comrades mounted a search for him the next day never suspecting he was the one who had killed James. They thought that it was the work of the Infidels, to kill one knight and kidnap another for ransom.

They were a day's ride out when they found his sword, still stuck in the sand where he'd left it. Another day before they found the still body of the knight and his charger not far away. The vultures had already taken Rufus's eyes and fed upon his horse, yet one thing remained puzzling to the assembled knights.

Why was there only one set of hoofprints? The knights knew not that somewhere under the blazing sun, a knight still rode on to damnation pursued by the shade of his own misdeed. "Murderer...."
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Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Wed Mar 15, 2006 9:51 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 3:44 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

hmm, not bad

And that's fighting talk Ms. Rai - I'll just have to enter now myself.
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 3:47 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

[Lord of the Night Wrote:]right - i've got my idea

i'm about half-way through, should have it up soon enough[/quote]


*smirks*You already were...
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 3:50 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Shush - don't tell anyone

Besides - EVIL here remember - I don't have to be honest
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 3:53 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nope, others have to keep you honest.
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 3:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Precisely.
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 3:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good entry Rai!

Quote:
I'll admit defenestrating him was a nice touch...it was such a long way down."


Love this line!
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 4:41 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Kalanna Rai wrote:
P.S. If I see you shamelessly advertising one more time I will post Fauna's fat fairy pick every time you do until you get the point!*brings mallet down on a giant man eating Wack-A-Mole hard enough to squish it* Next time it'll be on your head...

Lousy worthless guild of evil


OOoooh, that's so harsh. Surprised
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 4:43 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yet ruthlessly effective. Wink
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 5:17 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yet I would just like to point out - Flaming! She's flaming the Guild of EVIL, the only non-profit* organisation on the site, with out-rageous claims of being worthless dispite all it's done for the City. I, for one, am morally and physically angered and feel that my civil rights as a member of the afore-mentioned EVIL Guild have been confronted, and I shall look to my Guild for protection. The Guild of EVIL does that you see, looks after it's members and helps them in times of trouble. That's why I'm a member afterall.

*well, non-profit for the other Guilds at any rate
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 6:00 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

First off I am mounting a camping on ALL shamless advertising by ALL guilds! If the IFlanders, or the Fantasy Guild were doing what you are I'd also be stepping in and telling them to take it somewhere else! I dislike back-door-drafting emmensly. If you can't stop it I will!

Therefore Lordy I ask you, politely even, to shut up. You are the ONLY person still doing this, even Chinaren stopped some time ago. I have no personal quarrel with the Guild of Evil, nor do I have a quarrel with an particular person on the sight, just ask anyone who knows me I tend to be the rational one...scary I know.

I DO have a quarrel with Post-recruting by guilds...I've seen it happen too many times in the past on too many other sights and in clubs in some places. It ruins my enjoyment of the sight and I'm sorry if it seems like I'm singling out one person or one organization, I'm NOT, I just don't get any enjoyment from things like this happening.

I hope I've made myself clear and I'm sorry if my opinions offend anyone but they are my opinions and I WILL defend my POV. So please stop Post-recruting in regular posts. If it's a designated area for recruitment I don't mind at all but keep it out of places like this..

That is all I have to say on this subject now or ever don't ask me to repeat myself...
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 6:12 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
Lousy worthless guild of evil


Hey! Just because you disagree with Lordy's 'advertising*' doesn't mean you can slag off the Guild!

I don't go around saying the FantasG is crappy and I would expect the same in return please.

Now, stop it both of you, or I will have to send the the Mummy virus around to have words. Surprised


*Which yes, is a little out of place maybe, but I have seen much worse off topic elsewhere.
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 02, 2006 6:16 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

First, I was still in a good mood at that point, it was a joke in bad taste. If you look it has been rescinded in the name of fairness.
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 04, 2006 6:58 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oooooooook.
Now, if we can all stop bashing each other for a while...
Nice story, Kalanna. I enjoyed it myself and you definitely made good use of "defenestrate." Kudos on the first entry.
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 06, 2006 12:47 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Alrighty, here's my entry for this month's Linear Comp! Smile

I tried to do something a little different from what I thought was really feasible, so I hope it came off alright! :biggrin:

----------------------------------

The day Jesus came to town…

What a dump! This is what we spent years killing for? Spent years dying for? A bit of dust and sand and crumbling buildings… The ‘Holy’ land my gangrenous left foot! I’ve seen holier brothels in Paris’ slums! And what’s with all these heathens just wandering about? I’m starting to wonder if there really is a God….

I have been here for 2 years now, and things have steadily gotten worse. I thought it was bad when I was up to my ankles in dead women and children, but when we finally captured the city a tremendous………………boredom set in. I partook in the customary looting and pillaging (although I left the rape to the others; Brigitte was the apple of my eye now, and anyway, these were unwashed heathens) but there was no feeling in it.

The weeks dragged by…. I got more and more depressed. They sent us on manoeuvres, but to be honest, when you’ve seen one sand dune you’ve seen them all (and then some). Jerusalem was nice enough (once the blood and entrails had been washed away), but the heathens are EVERYWHERE! Can you imagine! You wake up, throw off your lovely Egyptian cotton sheets, ready to face the day, but as soon as you sit up one of them is there, face cloth in hand asking whether ‘you would like face wash?’

No I bloody well wouldn’t like ‘a face wash’ thank you very much! I’d rather castrate you and feed you to the pagans, but apparently the bible says you must ‘love thy neighbour’! I don’t remember any heathens living next door when I was home on the farm, but it appears to apply here. That was really when my belief slipped, I think. No job satisfaction, unwashed heathens everywhere and not a buxom French wench in sight! Let me tell you, I was not a happy knight’s templar.

Well, I was sitting in my tower barracks, looking out over the city (one thing has to be said, Jerusalem certainly was a lovely place to be at night. I would love to have brought Brigitte here; I’m sure it would do wonders for our se…*ahem* yes… er…) and wondering about the world. You know, the usual ‘why am I here?’, ‘why is everything so hard’ and ‘where are those goats I was promised. They said Wednesday, but its now Saturday!’ The others had already gone out, probably to dirty themselves with the heathen women, and everything was peaceful, which, let me tell you, is rare these days. They say that some guy called Salad-dressing or Salad-Fork or something odd, is amassing an army with the intent of re-capturing Jerusalem for the heathen Muslims!

Obviously, this made work pretty frantic, so this was a rare moment of clarity that I relished. But as I was looking over the peaceful rooftops, the falling sun glowing orange off the whitewashed buildings, I heard a cough behind me. Assuming it was one of the others retuning, probably having forgotten his drink money, I continued staring out of the window.

“Er… excuse me? I, er… coughed a moment ago? Hello?” piped up a quiet, almost nervous voice to my rear. Sighing, I turned to face whoever had disturbed me.

“Yes? What do you wa….” Stopping mid-sentence, my jaw dropping to my bug-bitten ankles, a divine light burned my eyes. I instantly fell upon my knees and pressed my hands together and raised them above my head. It appeared that my Messiah had been made flesh, before my very eyes! Jesus Christ was addressing me! A lowly old knight who had been beginning to doubt his faith. I could scarcely stop myself from begging for forgiveness for whatever sins I had committed and unknowingly not repented for.

“W-w-w-what can I d-do for you, oh great Lord? What is your will. Your every wi..” I began to babble, before he cut me off
“Oh, no, please. Don’t start that ‘Messiah’ stuff, I’m nothing special really. Just call me Jes.”
“What ever you desire o’ divine ruler! What can this humble knight do for you o glorious lor….. erm, I mean… Jes?”

As you can probably tell, the arrival of my messiah had caught me off guard a little, so I was feeling a tad dazed by it all. My babbling’s probably testament to that. But I soon decided that I needed to ask some very important questions, to do with the doubts I had been having, which I was beginning to think were misplaced. Messianic apparitions can do that to you…

“Um… ‘Jes’? If you don’ mind me asking, but… er… whey are you here?” I ventured, hoping to get something more substantial than the ‘why are we all here my child?’ answers that I always got from the bishops and clergymen on a Sunday. I was sorely disappointed.

“I came to tell you something very important. Something that will change your view of the world forever. Something that is mystical and more amazing than you can possibly imagine. Do you want to hear it?” Jes replied, his eyes lighting up with fanatical fervour that seemed characteristic of my fellow Jesuits these days… Nevertheless, I decided to hear him out.

“What doth my Lord wish my unworthy ears to hear? Speak and I will listen to anything that may pass your heavenly lips!” I proclaimed loudly, standing and giving a low bow.

“Get up you silly fool! I said none of that messiah stuff! GOD!” he yelled back, oddly angry. I felt my faith waver once again; why would my Lord Jesus use the lord’s name in vain…

“I… I’m sorry my Lord, I won’t forget again.” I mumbled, hoping to avoid another earful of godly-goodness.

“See that you don’t. Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was about to tell you something highly important, something instrumental in your continued existence. I ask you again, good Sir Knight, do you want to hear it?” This time his voice took on a ‘holier than thou, with knobs on’ quality that began to get on my already frayed nerves. I was hoping my saviour would turn out to be more genuine, but it seemed that I was doomed to spend my life looking for a down-to-earth churchman. Sighing, I turned back to the window.

“What’s that then? If I don’t kill more heathens I’m going to be doomed for all eternity? If I don’t abstain from sex ‘til I’m married (already failed that one I’m afraid, though I didn’t tell him that) then I go to a fiery hell? If I don’t let that cantankerous old man in white robes with a silly hat have his dirty way with me I spend the rest of my existence in unbelievable torture and anguish? Well I’ve got news for you, ’Jes’. I don’t really care. That guy up in the sky hasn’t done anything for me, so I’m not going to do anything for him. I’m packing my things and hopping on the next camel going to France. What have you got to say to that eh?” I exclaimed, feeling a great weight off my shoulders. Telling the messiah of Christianity that his religion was, frankly, barmy was really rather satisfying. I smugly turned around to face Jesus, hoping for a look of absolute horror on his bearded face.

“Er… no actually. I was just going to tell you that, well… It’s all been a bit of a silly fiasco. There’s been a terrible mix up. You see, this whole ‘Christianity’ lark shouldn’t really be here at all. God was just having a little joke. I don't think he meant any harm by it. He had already started that Islam thing, which we all thought was going well, and Judaism was also working smoothly, bar the odd anti-Semitic massacre that God is just too busy to deal with at the moment. Then Satan dared him to try running three religions. Satan is still up to his mischievous tricks, unfortunately, but God fell for it this time. So he got a couple of influential figures together and, hey-presto! I came into existence. You know the next bit, that Bible thingy really outlined it well. We all had a great laugh about it in heaven. Satan stayed for drinks, which was nice. He’s not all bad when he’s had a few pina-coladas in him.”

My vision was going blurry, the beard and pale skin of Jesus’ face merging into one brown smudge. I think I might have fallen over, because I felt the cold floor beneath me.

“But I decided that the joke had gone on too long. Frankly, I was getting tired appearing in visions that had no meaning. So I’ve been travelling around looking for people to reveal the truth to. Just thought you might like to know. It’s all a farce. I’m sorry. But I think you were beginning to doubt it anyway, so it should be music to your ears. Hello? Are you ok?” He inquired sweetly.

But it was all too much. I may have begun to doubt the principles that I was expected to follow, but… but…. The whole thing was a stupid JOKE! I just couldn’t take it. I felt around for the wall, and slowly levered myself up toward the windowsill.

“Are.. are you ok? You look a little unsteady. Hey! Hey, be careful! It’s a long way down! Whoa…!” Jes yelped as I slipped headfirst out of the oval window. The last thing I saw was the dusty ground heading toward me unnervingly fast. Oh well….

“Bugger. That’s the third one who’s gone and defenestrated themselves. I really should get them away from windows…. “

--------------------------

*grin* Vote for the Soiled one! Wink Razz
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 06, 2006 1:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

LOL! Good one Soily Wink
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 06, 2006 4:05 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

NIce to see you took my words to heart Soily, and got around to finishing. Now if only I can to...

Just a few points - What was a Knight doing growing up on a farm?

And Islam wasn't around until the 6th Century - Muhammid wasn't born until 571 or something like that
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 06, 2006 4:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Actually, most Knights Templar did not begin their careers as knights. Most of them were murderers, rapists, and brigands who, through taking the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience and joining the Knights of the Temple Mound, sought some form of redemption and a chance to get into heaven as well as improve their station in life.

But, anyways, good story, Soiled One. For a second there, I thought he was going get mad and defenestrate Jesus, which would have been... awkward, to say the least. But, good ending overall, and once again... defenestration... not just a word... it's a lifestyle!
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 06, 2006 4:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I said a knight - not a knights templar

once is a class while the other is a way of life
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PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2006 12:11 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

lordofthenight wrote:
Just a few points - What was a Knight doing growing up on a farm?

And Islam wasn't around until the 6th Century - Muhammid wasn't born until 571 or something like that


Well, as Jack said, he's a Knight's Templar, so not a regular knight. And as for the Islam thing.... I never said it was this reality. It's an alternate dimension ok? Where Islam preceeded Christianity! Muwahahahaha! :biggrin: Wink Razz
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PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2006 1:02 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

OK, SB, whatever you say.

BUt it still seems to be pretty close to our reality hmm?
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PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2006 1:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yup, almost identical. In fact, that is the only difference that exists. Funny that, eh? Wink
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PostPosted: Tue Mar 07, 2006 3:06 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yeah. I wonder why that is? I mean, of course it's possible if you consider the multiple dimensional theory, which means there are infinite alternative dimensions, meaning there must be several identical ones.
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PostPosted: Wed Mar 08, 2006 12:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hmmm... I have an idea... all based around defenestration... might have to enter this one!
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 09, 2006 9:02 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ye that know the Lord is gracious,
Ye for whom a Corner-stone
Stands, of God elect and precious,
Laid that ye may build thereon,
See that on that sure foundation
Ye a living Temple raise,
Towers that may tell forth salvation,
Walls that may re-echo praise

C. A. Alington 1872 1955


The Unfortunate Defenestrating of Jacob’s Crystallized Faith

With heavy heart and unrelenting sorrow I, Dame Michaela Bernardi, sit to pen this woeful tale of spirit. Only the benevolent and merciful Lord should comprehend the tragic events that befell the charitable soul of our beloved brother Geoffrey Bissot, and my sole prayer remains that by sharing his account of misfortune others might come to understand.
**

The Grand Priory of the Knights Templar in England and Wales resulted from the merger of several priories. For the sake of knowledge, a brief remembrance along with an account of the marriage that took place in the Cathedral at Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk follows.

Near to the royal castle of Windsor, on the 15th day of June in the year of our Lord 1215, on a meadow adjoining the Thames and traditionally referred to as Runnymede, a reluctant King John signed the highly momentous document known as the 'Magna Carta'. The first Baron to co-sign the charter was a Templar Knight, Brother Aymeric. Some point prior to this significant event the Barons had met for preliminary discussions to formulate their demands, set out in the Articles of the Barons, at the Abbey of St Edmund.

Nearly 800 years later, on Saturday the 28th day of June in the year of our Lord 2003, three Templar organizations of England & Wales met together in the Cathedral Church of St James, St Edmundsbury, Suffolk, to bring to a blissful culmination many years of exploratory dialogue and three years of patient, prayerful, precise planning to form a amalgamated union to replace the formerly separate Templar organizations. On that historic day the three became one under the leadership of the unanimously elected Grand Prior, Simon Le Fevre, and supported by a newly constituted and elected Grand Chapter.

Laid out around a Benedictine Abbey founded in AD 945, Bury St Edmonds represented the first Norman planned ‘new town’ centered on the shrine of St Edmonds, the last East Anglian King, who was executed by the Danes in AD 870. The town takes its name from this shrine. Consequent upon the royal vandalism of Henry VIII, the shrine laid in ruins until restored into a beautiful garden.

In this historic setting the marriage took place, following the long courtship between The Grand Priory of the Knights Templar in England and Wales, the Order of the Temple of Jerusalem and the Order of the Industrial Templars. The final acceptance to this union had previously been given at Rothley, Leicestershire, an historic Templar center, on Saturday the 22nd day of March in the year of our Lord 2003. A short engagement followed during which the final details of the nuptial contract formulated together with the practical details, which any marriage requires.
**

But now to persist with this tale of woe. As with even the best of marriages, and the most content of unions, conflict does arise from time to time between the united. Our ennobled brother Jacob Levy proved a source of great reckoning for the benevolent Sir Bissot.

Not so much the personage of Knight Levy, but rather the indulgence he made with his favored hobby, irritated Bissot so. In fact, being Dame of truth and severe honesty, I must clarify further and state that Bissot regarded the actual hobby with little disdain, and instead focused his angst for some unfortunate reason on a specific aspect of Levy’s enjoyment- a spoiled and pampered terrier named Jacob’s Crystallized Faith.

Sir Levy demonstrated charity and chivalry in almost all pursuits, but the gratification garnered from the breeding and showing of champion terriers suited his ostentatious personality. Favored most among his charges, Jacob’s Crystallized Faith accompanied Levy almost everywhere the man went, and secretive conversations took place between man and beast.

Jacob’s Crystallized Faith harbored an immediate animosity towards our good Sir Bissot, and indeed the acrimony readily presented in Bissot as well. Their initial encounter resulted in a painful nip of teeth to hand, and thereafter much barking ensued when one resided in the presence of the other.

Through unfortunate events, Levy and Bissot realized a regrettable merger whereupon they often discovered themselves in the presence of the other, much to the delight of Levy and Jacob’s Crystallized Faith. The formerly stable Bissot slowly began to unravel.

I observed the first inclinations when Bissot began avoiding the monstrous little dog at great pains. He accepted the most odious of tasks, with the ultimate goal of an outlet from the persistence of the terrier. He muttered often under his breath, the most heinous and severe curses against the beast.

However, I failed to suspect a descent into madness until the beef incident. Bissot arrived in a pleasant mood, maniacal eyes twinkling with mischief and a tinge of malice. He made grand show of his peace offering, bowing low before approaching Jacob’s Crystallized Faith and offering the tasty tidbit. The dog sniffed the donation, daintily accepted the treat, and then proceeded to sink his sturdy canines into Bissot’s hand.

After uttering a string of words, which my holy ears refuse to remember hearing, Bissot laughed hysterically and went his way. Jacob’s Crystallized Faith settled once more onto his cushion, but shortly sat up and vomited in an amazing display of green bile and yellow foam. Levy twittered about in a state of panic that did not subside until the following day, when the veterinarian released Jacob’s Crystallized Faith along with a stern warning about the ill effects of ethylene glycol based antifreezes.

Bissot of course denied any malicious intent, and for a week or so I actually thought that he might have heeded those pangs of guilt he surely felt for his betrayal. I worried at his mental state, although false hope led me to believe that he actually found a path back to normalcy.

Circumstance soon dashed that feeble hope. On a clear Friday afternoon, with the sweet singing of the birds filtering through the open window, Bissot finally cracked. Jacob’s Crystallized Faith growled subtly, and in rare form. He had nipped at Bissot’s heels traversing the stairs, a routine that aggravated Bissot until no end. Upon entering the room, crisp from the caress of the breeze entering via the window, the dog decided to inflict a new insult. He jumped perkily into Bissot’s chair as the man bent with intent to sit, and bit his left buttock with a throaty growl.

Levy suppressed a smirk and chastised Jacob’s Crystallized Faith with half-hearted remonstration. His entire demeanor changed to that of terror however, when Bissot turned and hoisted the dog by the scruff of the neck. Again Bissot uttered a string of words, which my holy ears refuse to remember hearing, and with a final venomous diatribe about mangy mongrels, he headed towards the window.

Jacob’s Crystallized Faith whimpered and wagged his tail in a nervous jiggle. Levy’s mouth opened and closed like a large fish. I remained paralyzed, horrified by the clear intent apparent in Bissot’s actions. Surely the man would not defenestrate the prized, champion terrier.

Before even the hand of God could intercede, Bissot hurled Jacob’s Crystallized Faith through the open window. He lurched out of the window with the effort, catching hands against the pane to prevent his own egress, and hooted with unrestrained delight at the squelching thud from below. Levy had a sharp intake of breath, followed by its apparent release that must have issued forth as a high-pitched wail that only Jacob’s Crystallized Faith could have heard. I fainted.

With heavy heart and unrelenting sorrow I, Dame Michaela Bernardi, thus conclude this woeful tale of spirit. Only the benevolent and merciful Lord should comprehend the tragic events that befell the charitable soul of our beloved brother Geoffrey Bissot, and my sole prayer remains that by sharing his account of misfortune others might come to understand.

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PostPosted: Thu Mar 09, 2006 9:13 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

*giggles* Sounds like an episode of "It's me or the dog"

Best use of 'defenestrated' I've seen yet though. Good one, Fauna!
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 09, 2006 9:20 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

*grins*

Thanks...it was a lot more effort than what I had initially intended so someone better like it Wink

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PostPosted: Thu Mar 09, 2006 9:23 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

LOL! Laughing Nice entry Fauni, and, yes, it was the best use if defenestrated so far.

Damn. Wink
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 12, 2006 3:20 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I agree. Funny story. Excellent. I truly enjoyed it.
Hope that's not all for the entries, though. Where's yours Lordy? As I took it, you've had an idea brewing up in that demonic head for some time now...
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 12, 2006 5:04 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh, I've got a story about half finished. I'll get it up probs tomorrow or on Tuesday.
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 13, 2006 3:58 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh goody...time to do a little nit-picking Very Happy Hopefully we'll get a couple more entries in before the deadline as well.

kalanna wrote:
Rufus spurred his sweating charger onward, ignoring the painful way the desert sun was heating his chainmail. The wind howled past his ears as if in a vengeful chorus for the dead.

"No it was an accident! An accident I tell you!" Yet beside him the shadow knight rode on laughing an evil laugh. Where Rufus was riding a white charger, his gleaming silver-washed chainmail covered by a white cloth with a brilliant red cross on it hot in the sun, the shadow was riding a black horse of darkness with his rusted chainmail covered by a black sackcloth with a blue cross upside down on it.

Certainly Richard wouldn't have hesitated taking away your lands and titles to give to some rich benefactor back home."

"I'm you." Suddenly Rufus was back on his horse, though the beast had died not six paces from where he'd fallen, and the pair were charging across the desert eternally plauged by the dark specter and it's mocking call.

His comrades mounted a serch for him the next day never suspecting he was the one who had killed James. They thought that it was the work of the Infidels, to kill one knight and kidnap another for ransom.

Why was there only one set of hoofprints? The knights knew not that somewhere under the blazing sun, a knight still rode on to damnation pursued by the shade of his own misdeed. "Murderer...."



soily wrote:
“I came to tell you something very important. Something that will change your view of the world forever. Something that is mystical and more amazing than you can possibly imagine. Do you want to hear it?” Jes replied, his eyes lighting up with fanatical fervour that seemed characteristic of my fellow Jesuits these days… Nevertheless, I decided to ear him out. (unless you’re actually ‘earing’ him)

“See that you don’t. Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was about to tell you something highly important, something instrumental in your continued existence. I ask you again, good Sir Knight, do you want to hear it?” This time his voice took on a ‘holier than thou, with knobs on’ quality which (quality, which ~or~ quality that) began to get on my already frayed nerves.

Satan stayed for drinks, which was nice. He’s not all bad when he’s had a few pina-colladas in him.”

But it was all too much. I may have been doubting (have doubted- omit been)the principles that I was expected to follow, but… but….

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PostPosted: Mon Mar 13, 2006 4:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thanks Fauna; changes made! :biggrin:
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PostPosted: Tue Mar 14, 2006 10:53 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

The Search for the Grail

The Holy Grail. Le Saint Graal. Il Santo Grail. Der Heilige Gral. Known throughout the civilised world this sacred artefact has been the talk of men for centuries. And it shall be I – Sir Christian de Loavue – who shall recover it in the name of Christ, and display it for all of Christendom to view. To Westminster Abbey shall I deliver the Cup of Our Lord and Saviour, and my name shall be renowned throughout the ages for all time to come. As such I start this journal as a record of my travels throughout Europe, so that the tale may be told through all the land. My legend shall go down with King Arthur and all the Knights of the Round Table, names such as Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawain, Sir Percival and most of all Sir Galahad, the occupant of the Siege Perilous, the greatest knight of the age and direct descendant of St. Joseph of Arimathea, the grand-uncle of Christ himself.

Entry the First
Today I set off for Castle Corenic, near the town of Llangollen. The Grail Castle is now deserted, but I believe I may discover the whereabouts of the Grail by searching through the empty corridors and hidden passage ways all castles are warrant to hold. I shall leave my servants and esquires in Alnwick Castle, to prepare to sent word of my success when I return. All I shall bring are my trusted friends and companions, Sir Warren of Blyth, and Sir David of the clan of MacLellan. My companions assisted me in my time of trouble, and as such I count them as brothers in arms and well as Christ. Sir David arrived at Alnwick yesterday, and we shall reach Warkworth on the morrow.

Entry the Second
Two days into the adventure and already we have faced difficulties. Sir David’s mare has thrown a shoe, and we are forced to spend the night forty miles from Hexham in a grotty hovel where the local blacksmith is labouring through the night to affix it once more. I fear it may be difficult; Emrilis has always been a most stubborn mount.

Entry the Third
David’s mount was thankfully re-shoed and we were able to leave the next day. Now nearly to Wales my companions and I are growing in anticipation as we approach the first milestone of our journey. There are tales of creatures such as wolves stalking the forests surrounding the castle so we have left the horses at a nearby tavern and shall continue on foot. We should arrive within two days, any other misfortune forewidth.

Entry the Fourth
We have arrived in Wales at last. The local legends have not been exaggerated, within hours of nightfall we were set upon by a party of wolves, who seemed not to fear the torches we bore upon us. We were forced to fight for our lives, protected solely by our flashing steel and strength of arm. The other two are asleep now, I write this with the last of the dying flame. It is now very cold, the wind whistling through the trees creating an eerie hollow sound.

Entry the Fifth
Today a horrible sight met our eyes. We came abreast of a hill, and saw before us the bodies of three peasants crucified upside down. Their throats had been slit, and a large wolf sat pulling at one of the bodies. Warren let out a fearsome cry and charged towards the beast, his sword raised high. With an almost mocking child-like ease the black beast avoided his blows, before turning and dashing off into the forest. Warren is the most skilled sword-master I have ever known, none could beat him on foot. And to see him bested to simply by none but a mere animal – it sent a shiver down my spine that no amount of heat could cease later that night.

Entry the Sixth
Finally our first glance of Castle Corenic. Rising up out of the ground like a monument, we saw its dark shape rearing up from the mountain like a black spire, stretching towards the sky. The Grail Castle, ruled over by King Brons, son-in-law to Joseph of Arimathea. We shall be reach it upon the morrow, and begin to search for rumours of its current location.

Entry the Seventh
Something terrible has happened. During the night Sir Warren of Blyth has disappeared. I cannot think what has happened to the noble warrior, what could have carried so noble a man away without a sound. Unless, of course, he left on his own accord… No. Warren is a good man, a loyal friend. He would never abandon us. Would he?

Entry the Eighth
Sir David and I have reached that castle and are just setting up camp. Though Warren’s disappearance this morning has disturbed us both we have agreed not to dwell on such dark matters, and to concentrate on the task at hand. The nights are growing colder still, and to ward off any beasts we shall leave the fire burning tonight. I only hope whatever carried off Sir Warren does not return.

Entry the Ninth
Thankfully the night passed without incidence, and the morning sun has dispelled my thoughts of woe. We have already begun to search the castle, though are finding it difficult to work our way through the twists and turns that fill the silent corridors. David believes the royal chamber where Sir Percival saw the injured King Brons, his side pierced by the Spear of Lug, lies ahead, though I suspect this is mostly guesswork, as how anything can be determined in this maze of stone I do not know. Still, ever onwards, no matter the cost.

Entry the Tenth
This place is cursed. Our Lord God himself must have turned away from the castle once the Grail was gone. What other explanation can there be? Let me explain. David was right, and we were indeed heading towards the royal chamber. As we entered the room, we beheld upon the death-bed of the King a body lay, still and unmoving. Thinking this to be the body of King Brons himself I rushed forwards, only to behold the face of my companion Warren, his body covered in blood. He had been eviscerated by a being of incredible force, his chest bared open. And…his heart…removed. In panic I fled from the room, David close on my heels. In our terror we were separated though, and now I’m alone with my notes. The room I have found myself in is a rich one, adorned with velvet curtains. There is very little light, the windows curtained. The…wait – I hear David calling. I must find my companion.

Entry the Eleventh
The night has fallen, and I find myself alone once more. There is a daemon in the castle, a terrifying creature cloaked in shadow. He killed David, tearing out his throat with his clawed fingers before decapitating him with a single blow. Then he came for me. Fully expecting my own demise I raised my shield to die gloriously, but upon seeing the emblazoned Red Cross he snarled and fled, taking David’s corpse and defenestrating it, before diving through the now open window head first.

Now I take shelter in a church on the eastern side of the castle. At least – I believe it is the east – I haven’t seen the sun rise for what appears to be three days. I have been running constantly since then. This is the first chance I’ve had to write done my thoughts, and it is fitting that it is under an image of God. I can hear them outside, gathering. There are thumps on the door. I go to my doom - I can only hope someday someone finds this, and learns what has befallen us. My life for the cross.

Sir Christian de Loavue
Master of Alnwick Castle




Master, we found this on the body of the last knight, the one who took shelter in the old chapel. We thought you might find the exploits…amusing
_________________
Punishment leads to Fear. Fear leads to Obedience. Obedience leads to Freedom. Therefore, Punishment leads to Freedom.
Ave Dominus Nox


A Fronte Praecipitium a Tergo Lupi
Blood Bowl
Scraping the Barrel
A Tale of Four Swords
Passion


Last edited by LordoftheNight on Tue Mar 14, 2006 12:20 pm; edited 1 time in total
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