A picture IS worth a thousand words!!!!!

[Zariah]

Originally there was a thread started by Rune, titled “A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words???”. Rune posted a picture and asked members to write a story about the picture. I have taken this idea, with her permission of course, and modified it a tid bit to become a contest.

 

I will post three pictures and ask that you write a story about one. Now, you may write a story about two of the three of them, BUT ONLY ONE counts for the contest. Each one will be earning you 5 geld. But, PLEASE indicate on your post (separate posts for each story) which one is submitted for the contest. If I am unsure, I will PM you, and if it is not resolved, NEITHER WILL COUNT.

 

Here’s the catch. The story MUST be at LEAST 1,000 words long Now, that’s NOT too bad, considering that up to this point in my post here I have written 150 words.

 

For participating: 5 geld per each story (limit is two)

1st place: 25 geld

2nd place: 15 geld

3rd place: 10 geld

 

A link is here to see Rune’s thread for examples.

 

This contest will last a while…I will post a date when it is ending about two weeks before it closes.

 

 

These can be humerous, creative, whatever...as long as it is mentioned in the story as an aspect...be it a prop or setting...whatever.

 

 

FYI:These were all free downloadable wallpapers, for purposes of copyright status.

Edited July 11, 2004 by Zariah

[Zariah]

Should I find different pictures or up the geld amount for participation???

No one is interested

[cryptomancer]

My lady, I would love to attempt this challenge you have set, and will as soon as time allows, and my Raven ramblings have settled into the darkness again, or i fear that the story would be in rhyme and require much decyphering.

 

soon.... i shall post.

 

[Katzaniel]

Interested... but busy.... Will think on it more today.

 

Although adding a third picture might not hurt. I can't speak for others, but these just don't seem to be inspiring me.

[Zariah]

I have replaced the first two with three new and improved ones that fit the theme of fantasy a bit better. They are broader for better options.

 

Hope this helps anyone who was not inspired before.

Edited July 11, 2004 by Zariah

[cryptomancer]

The Solitary figure of a ancient tree, stood its ground against the winds of its ruined home. Desert stretched for ever in all directions, the decayed dust of the once great forest that had given birth to this ancient and gnarled wretch.

Even beneath its failing roots the choking ash of the arid land drained away the life.

Life in a single drop of water that could sustain, just a bit longer.

Roots stretched deeper, seeking the old wells of the land, seeking the source of the great forest's strength. Finding only the shifting sands of abandonment and the dead earth of a dry wasteland.

 

Overhead the sky sang its blueness to the scorching sun, and poured its empty vessel over the land. No rain for this land, no life for the damned. Just the clear heavens mocking the emptiness beneath their cloudless feet.

 

In the still air of desolation, a spark stirred. In the heat of deaths grip, a life drew breath, slowly, carefully. In the solitude of that mighty tree, all but destroyed by its war on the climate and land, a gem of wonder flared. Deep blue light shed the dryness of the bark from the tree's hard flesh. Its fingers traced the lines of thirst on the dying wood, and as its caress flowed, so to did the spring.

Rizing up from the depths of a savage world, from the darkness of its heart, the pure untainted blood of the earth shed itself once more.

In the deep dust of this wastland, the earth bled, giving its life to that old destroyed form, so that it may live again, and upon its old and withered boughs hold the love of life once again.

Softly the seeping liquid wept from the deep cut in the earth's hide. Slowly it soaked through the decaying scab of the desert crust, washing clean the folds of its many layers, rinsing the stench of death from the air, giving breath to the wind.

 

In the song of the blue sky, a harmony entered, clouding the melody into birthing a new image. In the soft harmonic it called to the orchestra of life, to the fullness of creation, and the washing of the world sang to the call, joining the tune that called for more. As the hamony roze up and the heads of the percussion were seen standing in the dark corners of the musicians of nature's glory, their beating weapons at the ready, and upon the strike light shone through the earth, and the thunder rolled. Steady the song , the beat the rhythm, the pumping of a heartbeat's blood.

Innocence returning to the lost souls, love caressing the flesh of the earth, dreaming of the embrace of liquid, and in the heart of a mother's loving grasp, the wind cried.

 

Upon the limbs of an old tree, life touched it's soul, and in the ever cruel world of life, it drank deep of love once more. Slowly it stood tall, listening the the music that life had once again blest its ears with. Listening for the cue, for the chance to join in again, to touch the glory of existence in the vocal beauty of its song.

The note struck, the song awaited, the lovers' ears was opened to the voice of her desire, and in the midst of the soulfilled music, the deep bass of the ancient rang true:

 

Life blest my soul,

Life touched my heart,

In the solitude of death

I lived in pain.

 

Life called my heart,

Life called my soul,

In the depth of my dispair

I learned to live again

 

In love I was given a chance to live,

For in beauty I loved, and beauty did give.

Again I called for her loving embrace,

And turely was blest to again see her face.

 

I life my limbs to the rains,

To touch the tears of the sky.

I life my soul up to the wind,

For of His spirit it is a sign.

 

As the depth in the voice faded once more to the silent embrace of the rainfall, the words were whispered in reply, from the heavens, to the earths heart, the wind sang:

 

Truth, love and mercy,

Once more have been granted.

Live for the fullness of beauty,

love with the fullness of life.

 

The storm of beginings ended slowly, trailing the wakened world to its home. As the earth wept, the sky sang its blueness to the moon, and the wind spoke wisdom to the anceint tree, telling it to live anew, to love again to be the created soul it was destined to be. The wind sang its song forever upon the shifting face of a changing world. Ever the same, ever the same, the wind speaks words of love to the ears of those who listen.

[Zariah]

Thanks for participating...I hope others can too if they have some time....

Edited July 14, 2004 by Zariah

[Izabella]

If I wanted to write on the old pic of the bowl, could I? I had a really good idea for that one, but the rest are a little to fantasy-ish for me. I scuk at fantasy.

[Zariah]

Sure, I guess.....I don't know where I can find the bowl again....so it's I guess gonna have to be from your memory.

[Katzaniel]

That's a pity... I saved the graveyard pic 'cause I'd been thinking of writing on it (though nothing came to mind) but not the bowl. Anyway...

 

 

The wind rustled the leaves of the majestic wooden pillars and the grass bowed in awe. The trees had stood in that spot for well over three centuries and anyone who looked upon them was immediately struck with their own inconsequentiality.

 

The diminutive sorceress was the first in two hundred years to enter the forest and not fall on their knees in front of the two trees. Each one stood some hundred times her height but she only looked up at their height and grinned. The wind howled, distressed and shamed at the woman’s tenacity and the bushes shivered in fear. The trees themselves only watched in curiosity, however, as the magic wielding gnome levitated herself along the great trunks. Rising to their tops, well above the general ceiling of the forest, the woman gestured and a portal opened between the columns.

 

For another moment after the gnome disappeared, the forest was still. The wind waited breathlessly, the grass stood up and brushed itself off, only the bushes whispered to each other, their voices echoing along the silent pillars. When the sorceress reappeared, she was gripping an unconscious gnome in princely robes, and she hastily cast the levitate spell to bring them down evenly to the gravel path. As they descended, a tiny dragon flew out, little puffs of smoke weaving their way into the clouds from its nostrils.

 

The two gnomes approached the earth more rapidly now, and the dragon in its disorientation was late in reaching the forest roof. Once the sorceress hit the ground and began irreverently running, the dragon gave up, for the trees all held out their branches to block it from reaching the hero who had braved the wrath of the mighty trunks. The wind resumed its angry song and the bushes stood up in fierce defense. It wasn’t long before the dragon, puffing in disappointment, returned through the portal and the forest went to sleep once more.

 

Edit: WOW, cryptomancer. I just now read your post, and it is incredible.

Edited July 14, 2004 by Katzaniel

[cryptomancer]

My thanks.

 

I enjoyed the beauty of the imagery in your story, I understand the feeling of standing before the giant trees of this world, and feeling humbled to insignificance by them. Still, I have yet to behold the true majestic awe that is the might redwood... someday I hope to rectify that.

 

[Tanuchan]

There it was, the Claw of Syarin.

 

In the pre-dawn soft light, Meriah looked at the twisted tree, ages old and looking ready to fall under the harsh wind of the desert. The thinner branches shook, making the Claw wriggle eerily, almost hypnotically. Without thinking, the Clan Daughter stepped towards it - and blinked in a startled way when her long black hair whipped her face, the wind wrapping her now that she wasn't protected by the last rocky outcrop.

 

Syarin. Goddess of Dreams and Death. Lady of the Night, Giver of Otherlife. The Many-Shaped.

 

But all of her shapes had at least one claw, with which she could tear a mind apart, opening the veils that concealed the dreams and their meaning. A claw that could tear a heart, squeezing life away. And that could grab her priestesses and keep them bound to their faith.

 

Meriah, Clan Daughter, Junior Priestess of Syarin, sighed. She didn't want to come. She didn't want to leave the Clan. Most of all, she didn't want to be the Lady's Claw. She had been Second Daughter, with the freedom of choice. And she had chosen the Way of the Clan when her father's son was killed.

 

Clan Leader. Her choice, her destiny, her life. The Clan needed her. But tradition demanded the First Daughter to be the Lady's Claw, and her older sister had died a month ago. And having happened before the Trial, tradition also demanded she took her place.

 

The wind slapped harder on her body, and Meriah's sigh became and angry growl. She glared at the old tree, the symbol of the temple, its only visible sign. She should spend a day and a night under the Claw, waiting to be covered by the shifting dunes if the Lady wished so, and find the entrance to the underground way that twisted between the roots of the tree. If she failed, she would die buried by the sands. If she succeeded, she would tumble on the Altar and be recognized as the Lady's Claw, to reign under the desert, to use the Claw to judge over the Clan, and to send the Clan Leader the counseling Dreams and Omens.

 

She could also hope, or claim, that the sands wouldn't cover her, showing that the Many-Shaped utterly refused her. The Clan would rejoice - but would also doubt in harder days, wondering why the Goddess had once turned away from their Leader.

 

Meriah raised her chin defiantly, setting her mind on her objective. Her younger sister was but a baby. The Elders would never be able to see the Clan through another Border war. She, who was trained to be Clan Leader, wouldn't be buried, dead or alive, under the shifting sands. The Claw of Syarin wouldn't have her. She had other plans.

 

As the sun rose, Meriah studied again the gnarled tree that still beckoned in that eerie way. She walked towards it, but this time with cold purpose. She wouldn't fail. The Temple Underneath would find a very surprising Lady's Claw.

Edited July 16, 2004 by Tanuchan

[Zariah]

These are all GREAT! Thanks for participating!

[Zariah]

This contest is coming to a close! So any still interested you have until August 13th to post!

 

I am excited to read and judge!