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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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EDIT by Katzaniel (of March 2006): The following was written as an application to the StoryWeaver Guild. Katz out. (Sorta)

 

 

Gnarled fingers wrap silently around a doorknob, gently turning it until a short creak is heard. The wizard's eyes narrow and his eyes coolly investigate the surrounding grounds. Nothing appears, and within a moment the man is through the door, closing it quietly behind him. Only footfalls indicate his whereabouts in the dark, for he sees by magic.

 

"Triphenylcycloctane." the word echoes softly and a faint click is heard.

 

"Dimethylbromobutane." There is a tangible pause, and another click.

 

The mood is broken at that moment, rather abruptly. The sound of running feet begins from far away down the hall, but the wizard does not get more than a few feet before the noise has travelled right up to him. Nothing happens for a brief moment while the old wizard awaits judgement. Then the lights come on and a tiny gnome can be seen running from the light switch back to the man. The man, holding in his left hand a jar of chemicals, lifts the wand in his right. An open backpack lies at his feet.

 

"Eye of armadillo, toe of newt..." begins the wizard unceremoniously.

 

"Oh, give it up, old man." says the gnome. "I can outrun any spell you throw at me. Just put the stuff back on old Rekkle's shelf and you can leave in one piece."

 

Eyes narrow. "Bark of willow, mandrake root..." Inside the wizard's pack, items begin to adjust themselves.

 

A blur is seen around the wizard as the gnome begins moving again. A look of concern does enter the man's eyes as he notes that he is being tied up, but he continues, more quickly now. "Head of crow, human brain, Dimethylbromobutane..." More movement from the backpack.

 

His voice takes on a note of panic, he knows he won't be able to finish the incantation. He can no longer move his legs because of the rope around them. He nevertheless holds firm in his choice. "These things combine, to steal your shape..."

 

The objects settle themselves in place, but the man's wand arm is now tied to his side, impotent. He knows he can't say the last words without it. He looks worried, and opens his mouth hesitantly. Before he can say anything, there is a tremendous crash and the blur becomes a wounded gnome, sitting next to a wobbling shelf and nursing its head. "Oooh, Greeb is hurt, oh, where am I...?" The little creature swoons and falls over. A malicious grin forms on the wizard's face. He spends a moment freeing his arm before triumphantly saying, "Object benign, help me escape!"

 

Convulsions overtake the wretched gnome. His body twitches for a moment before stiffening, limbs splaying out and then clapping together, arms above his head forming a point and his legs straight below. He levitates slightly and then a popping sound is heard as his body is transformed into a dagger. The wizard flicks his wrist and the blade comes over to him and chops off the ropes that bind him. He leans over and shoves the dagger along with the jars into his pack, picking out a few more as he goes. Then he escapes into the night.

 

OOC: I'm not sure how much I need to write ("As much as you feel like dear", I can just hear the echoes in my head) but I'm not done yet. I just thought I should get the first part in. Also, a note: For inspiration, I got four character descriptions from Tamaranis and Falcon2001. I'm going to try to incorporate all of these elements before all is through:

 

Manipulative magic hungry maniacal

small fast clumsy gnome

freaky floating talking sword

odd smelling old alchemist

Edited by Katzaniel
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*laughs*

How much do you need to write? Oh, a good solid scene or two, which you've done, and done nicely! :)

 

Ayshela stamps the application Approved and pins it on the Members' Wall, then turns back to welcome the newest Tale Spinner.

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Ack! But it's not done yet, I just wanted to post the first bit so I'd remember to come back later...

 

The alchemist hasn't even made his appearance. He's going to want revenge, you know.

 

I'll post more later. (Approved, indeed <_>

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:)

You are very welcome to add more!

In fact, i hope you do!

 

As an application post, the initial scene as described is sufficient. What i would recommend as a continuation is to copy your initial scene into a thread in the Hearth Room and post continuations there.

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OOC: It won't be all that much longer that I need to have a new topic for it. Besides, I can't create a new topic in that room. At any rate I'd like to have it all right here.

 

Rekkle was, understandably, very angry. Not only had some of his chemicals gone missing overnight, but so had Greeb, his kindly gnome guard. Sure, Greeb was a little clumsy, but his speed more than made up for it. No one could catch him. How then had someone gotten away? Was Greeb still alive? And how could Rekkle track the thief?

 

Surely if Greeb had followed someone (and he certainly would have caught them and returned by now) then he would have left behind some sign. Rekkle had no experience reading tracks, but he made an attempt. He looked at all the marks in the dirt around his doorway and picked out the ones that diverged from directions he often went. Then he picked the largest ones, hoping that they weren't just some recent guest, and knowing that at least they weren't Greeb's footprints.

 

It took Rekkle a few hours to make his way only a couple of blocks. He wasn't sure that he hadn't started following a different set of tracks at any point; four or five times, he had been forced to basically guess from two crossing sets. Not only that, but he had totally obscured the path, at least beyond his own limited recognition. Nothing for it but to just plug forward. Just then, though, he thought he heard a clanging sound over in the next street. Perhaps Greeb was locked up in there and trying to escape? Noting the general area he was in, even scuffing the dirt a little to make the location recognizable, Rekkle turned away. He was hoping against hope that this was not a false lead and if it were, he would be able to begin again from this spot.

 

Easily tracking down the source of the sound, Rekkle finds that it is emanating from the basement of one of the houses on the street. Kneeling down near the window, he says in a slighly-over-a-whisper voice, "Greeb, is that you?"

 

The clanging stops. "Is that my name?"

 

Oh, dear. Rekkle was almost certain that he recognized the voice of the gnome. How had he lost his memory?

 

"Your voice sounds like Greeb's. But why don't you know?"

 

"Um. Wait, let me think about that for a second."

 

Rekkle, confused, let the voice think.

 

"I think... I do think that could be my name. It has a familiar sound. Tell me, what type of.. being.. was Greeb?"

 

"What type of... do you mean, what race was he?"

 

"Sure."

 

"He was a gnome."

 

"Hmm. Yes. Let me see if it can come back, now. I was a gnome..."

 

Another long pause.

 

"I could run very fast. And you must be... the chemist... Rekkle?"

 

"That's right, Greeb. I'm going to help you out now."

 

"I should warn you. Rekkle," the name was said unfamiliarily, "I'm not a gnome any more."

 

"What are you?"

 

"I'm... I think I'm a dagger. It's kind of dark in this bag. I think... he must have been a wizard."

 

Oh, deary dear. He couldn't just rescue Greeb as it was, not with a wizard after them, and even if killing a wizard were easy, he couldn't just do that. How could they change Greeb back into a gnome without the wizard's cooperation?

 

"How closely are you guarded, Greeb?"

 

"I don't think I'm guarded at all. He seems to have left. I don't think he meant for me to keep my consciousness. Consciousness... something's coming back. Oh, yes. I blacked out just before he completed the spell. Maybe that's what saved me. I'm remembering you now, too, Rekkle. The chemical smell on your coat... my memory is coming back. Thank goodness you found me when you did. I was beginning to wonder if I was always a dagger. I think maybe the only thing that saved me was being in this bag - it's so dark, and at first I didn't know what I was at all. If I'd always been what I was, you'd think I'd know, just waking up in the dark. So even when I figured out I was a dagger I knew something was strange."

 

"That's good, Greeb. Try hard not to forget again. In the meantime, we have to figure out how to get you out of here - and how to get you back to being a gnome."

 

Rekkle managed to lift off the window and climb down into the basement. He was relieved to see that indeed, no guards had been set. Clearly the wizard had not expected Greeb to retain his intelligence. But they needed a plan for when the wizard came back, and they needed it pretty quickly.

 

Rekkle helped Greeb out of the bag. Dagger it was. He lifted him up. A nice dagger. But poor Greeb, not being able to move or anything. And as quickly as that they heard a noise upstairs. Rekkle dropped Greeb in shock.

 

OOC: One more should do it. Later though.

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  • 2 weeks later...

OOC: awesome. I'll post something there some day. For now, the end of this one...

 

 

 

Greeb left Rekkle's hands with a startled gasp, and then... floated. "Holy cow!" he whispered excitedly, "Rekkle, I can fly!" The chemist gave him a surprised look, replying, "That could help us, Greeb. But we're going to need to think quickly." Rekkle looked around, panicking.

 

Seeing an old tome standing on a pedistal, the chemist rushes toward it. It is a spell book. Flipping madly through the pages, the man tries to find something that might help them.

 

"What's that smell?" comes a voice from up the stairway.

 

"He's coming down!" whispers Greeb, plainly worried. He floats, still getting used to the different body, away from obvious sight. "What are we gonna do?"

 

Still paging through the book, Rekkle doesn't answer. The door to the basement opens, and the wizard comes into view. He's eating something, and his eyes register shock at seeing the chemist.

 

"How did you find me, old man?"

 

"Find you? Uh... Underestimated me, did you? If you don't try to hurt me, I'll let you go with just returning my stuff to me." The chemist manages a fairly believable expression, but the wizard just laughs. He raises his wand arm, saying, "No matter how you found me, then. How do you propose to escape?"

 

Looking around in concern, Rekkle spots a rock. Stooping to pick it up, he ss surprised when it skitters away from his outreached hand. Glancing up, he sees that the wizard is moving it. That done, the wand moves in a different motion, bringing the stone up and then down toward the chemist.

 

Now it's the wizard's turn to be surprised, as Greeb shoots down and knocks away the rock before it hits his friend. Turning in midair, the gnome-turned-dagger heads toward the wizard. Caught in shock, and unable to control a living creature, the wizard is unprepared and Greeb succeeds in his dive at the man's hand. He shouts and drops the wand, and Greeb dashes at it, cutting it to pieces before it even lands. Then he rushes to the wizard's face, stopping just inches away and then backing beyond reach.

 

"I could kill you in an instant, wizard." Greeb almost spits the word. "I don't want to leave you alive, but I don't want to stoop to murder either." Greeb turns to Rekkle, as if for advice. In that moment, the wizard lunges, grabbing Greeb and running toward Rekkle with a glint in his eye. With all the force he can muster, he plunges the dagger toward the heart of the chemist, who is too stunned to react.

 

Greeb concentrates all his effort to stop the wizard's arm, discovers that he can't, and then tries instead to redirect the blow. Split second decisions, with his friend's life at stake, cause him to force the arm into a circular route, straight into the wizard's own stomach.

 

"You have killed a mighty man, you immovable dagger and your ancient friend!" curses the wizard. "For removing me from the world, and for all your despicable actions, you deserve to die. I would have been great, you low-lifes. Can't you understand something better than yourselves?" With those words, he collapses, breathing heavily for a moment before breaths stop coming altogether. The chemist and the dagger just look at him sadly.

 

"I wouldn't have done it, Rekkle, except that he would have killed you."

 

"I know. I mourn for his death, even though I can't help but despite him."

 

"Well..."

 

Silence passes with the minutes while they look at the dead man. Finally Greeb speaks again. "Should we just go home?"

 

"What about you? Without the man, we have little hope of transforming you back, without the wand, even less, but shouldn't we try?"

 

The dagger laughs, a strange sound from his metal body. "No, Rekkle. I think I like it much more in this body. I'm just as fast as I ever was, but no limbs to control, nothing to slow me down - I'm much less clumsy now. My memory is back altogether, I don't think that's a concern any more. Let's just go!"

 

Rekkle smiles. "Okay, my good friend Greeb. If you're happy, I'm happy. Let us leave this terrible place. Race you home!"

 

And Greeb shoots forward, avoiding the sides of the window and all the obstacles on the way. He gets there a full three hours before Rekkle, who loses his way a few times. And Rekkle has to remove Greeb from the tree in front of the house, where he had logded himself in his excitement.

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  • 3 months later...

Well, ever since you guys implemented the new process for application (which I applaud) I've been meaning to reapply under the new rules. But I never did like this story much, and whether it made it through or not I would be unhappy with it, always thinking it shouldn't have. Well, that should be easy - write a new one. But even that I just haven't been able to get around to doing, in all this time. So I think I should just accept the fact that single-authored stories aren't for me, support the guilds without being part of all of them, and withdraw my application altogether.

 

I hope you guys don't mind... and there's always the possibility that I'll reapply in a year or so when I have more time for writing in general.

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I have buckled myself down and written some stuff in the Assembly room. I think that I am now sufficiently involved there to not feel guilty reapplying, plus Ayshela assures me that much of my writing is not that dissimilar from the sort on which this guild focusses. So, having an inspiration (incidentally, a background for the ring of a character I might not even be using) I decided it was good enough to serve as an application piece. It is somewhat shorter but, I feel, much better.

 

 

This tale really began when a young woman met and fell in love with a very old man. Together they conceived a child, but less than a week after their first meeting the man had a heart attack and died. The girl bore the child, but mourned heavily throughout the pregnancy. When a boy was finally born, she named him Chronos after the entity that had caused her so much grief. She set him on her parent's doorstep with instructions to look after him but never to reveal the sad history of his birth. Then she killed herself.

 

Chronos was never told the story behind his name, and as he aged he grew ever more obsessed with time. By the age of 22, he had decided he wanted to be immortal. He left home and spent the next 15 yeors of his life researching the subject, travelling the globe and collecting even the most arcane of knowledge. Much of it, he knew, was useless, but he persisted, and he soon decided that he knew everything he could learn from others. Now he had to experiment on his own.

 

The determined man quickly narrowed his list down to about one useful fact for every ten things he had learned, but he was not discouraged. After mixing and testing rare materials for another ten years, Chronos actually succeeded in stopping time. He aged, though, while no one else moved, and though the progress spurned him to work harder and longer, he grew frustrated and uncertain.

 

Time relentlessly tore at his health, and one of the last things Chronos did was forge a ring with elements of everything he had learned. It was a desperate act, and though the wearer of the ring could affect time in a multitude of ways, Chronos considered it a failure because it could not prevent aging or death. He wore the ring for many years, creating and testing new hypotheses at every waking moment. The ring aided in his using this time to its maximum. He was a very ancient man when the inspiration finally came. This one he knew, even without testing, would work. He was right, but no one ever knew it. The excitement killed him.

 

Please consider it as you would a new application from a new member. Thank you.

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I do like how well you describe how Chronos spiraled into his obsession. It was something that reads well and you concised it pretty well. However, some sentances are a bit rough next to some others. For example, you beautifully wrote how the mother abandonned Chronos but the next sentence is an abrupt "The she killed herself." I would've prefer a more eleborate death scene.

 

The storyline in itself is excellent and, as I did stated previously in your first application; "Your weirdness is my delight". ;)

 

*Puts on her approved stamps on it*

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i really *really* like this! The only thing i found unclear was that you left detailed description of his control of time when he had stopped it, so it almost reads as if the rest of the story takes place while time moves only for him.

 

Your concept is wonderful, and your chronology and motivations clear and compelling. if you wanted to flesh this out you could add in character and setting descriptions along the way, but you have a compelling and intruiging piece here.

 

i have understood your hesitance, but i maintain that there is place here for you. Stamping this one "approved", i say also, welcome back. :)

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You guys are setting a hard precedent for yourself. :P If there's stuff I need to change, make me change it! I know I am bad for neglecting physical descriptions, so even though you've already accepted me, let me know if this is better, okay?

 

This tale really began when a young woman met and fell in love with a very old man. She was generally agreed to be very pretty, and he had the rugged charm that many older men do. Although people accused the girl of being naive, she proclaimed that she recognized this as true love, better than most people had ever found. Within a day they had happily wed, and together they conceived a child. Fate had tragedy in store for them, though, for less than a week after their first meeting the man had a heart attack and died. The girl bore the child, but mourned heavily throughout the pregnancy. Life had become a chore. When a boy was finally born, she named him Chronos after the entity that she perceived had caused her so much grief. She set him on her parent's doorstep with instructions to look after him but never to reveal the sad history of his birth. No one ever saw her again, and it was largely assumed that she had resorted to suicide.

 

Chronos was raised believing that his grandparents were his birth parents, but was frustrated that he was never told the reasoning behind his name. As he aged he grew ever more obsessed with time and by the time he reached the age of 22 he had decided he wanted to be immortal. He was a tall and handsome young man with many skills, but he left home and spent the next 15 yeors of his life researching the subject, travelling the globe and collecting even the most arcane of knowledge. Much of it, he knew, was useless, but he persisted, and he soon decided that he knew everything he could learn from others. Now the talented Chronos would put his own hands to the task.

 

He created a laboratory for himself in a remote mountain village, where many of his needed supplies would be close at hand. The townspeople marked him easily as a hermit and left him alone to his research. Although he did not notice, they at least admired the beautiful plant varieties growing in his yard, and remarked to themselves how handsome he was in his middle age. The determined man ignored almost everything but his work, confining himself within cold white walls. He quickly narrowed his list down to about one useful fact for every ten things he had learned, but he was not discouraged. After mixing and testing rare materials for another ten years, Chronos actually succeeded in stopping time. He aged, though, while no one else moved, and though the progress spurned him to work harder and longer, he grew frustrated and uncertain. It was a failure, and after making extensive notes on the few successful aspects of his methods, he trashed the aparatus he had used, recognizing it as a pointless side-path to his real goal.

 

Time passed and began to relentlessly tear at his health. Getting desperate, Chronos tried forging a ring with elements of everything he had learned. Though the wearer of the ring could affect time in a multitude of ways, Chronos considered it, too, a defeat because it could not prevent aging or death. It did have one aspect useful to his search, however, and that was slowing the physical world with respect to his mind, allowing for more compact movements that better used the time he had available. The now haggard gentleman slept less often now, for he felt rested sooner, and he used the ring in this way for many years, creating and testing new hypotheses at every waking moment. Unfortunately, though, the much needed inspiration avoided him until he was a very ancient man. When it came to him during a now rare hour of sleep, in the form of a dream, he knew even without testing it that the method would work. He was right, but no one ever knew it, for he was killed by excitement of the long-awaited discovery.

 

Celes, I expanded the description about the death a little, but I see it as a sidestory to the real point of the piece, so I hope you don't mind that I avoided giving details. Ayshela, I realized that I hadn't really described the point of wearing the ring at all, so I hope this is better. Also, I added some general descriptions and rephrased a couple of points.

 

PS. You don't have to hurry at getting back to me, I realize I'm taking up your time at a busy time. (Chronos can wait... ;)).

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