CERAMIC DM March 2012

Deuce Traveler

Adventurer
I would be a liar if I didn't admit to being an admirer of The Black Company by Glen Cook. I'm also a fan of Robert Heinlein's Glory Road and Starship Troopers, Joe Haldeman's The Forever War, Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, Howard's Conan, and Clark Ashton Smith's short stories on the Eldritch Dark website, so my tastes are all over the map. The Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett fan in me loves your short stories, but I could never write humor. My imagination has always been darker.
 

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Hellefire

First Post
Sure, always wanted to try this...
Deaja - NO peeky!!

MMI-7
[sblock]
MMI-7 Out of the Mouth of Madness

You burst out of the trap-riddled tunnel just as it collapses behind you, along with the last bits of Mystical Marvin's Mysterious Mansion. As the ringing in your eats and the throbbing in your heads fades, you are astounded by the magnitude of the silence confronting you. You stop your heaving chests just for a moment, almost in unison, to see if there is any other sound in the world. Slowly, the sounds of the tropical island begin to reassert themselves. You dust yourselves off and slowly rise to your feet. Glancing at each other, you can't help but grin. Against massive odds, you made it out of there alive!

In unspoken agreement, each of you takes out the various loot that you managed to scavenge from the Mansion. Unfortunately, while you saw various body parts presumably from Mystical Marvin, you did not manage to come away with so much as a finger. Knowing that your commission will be cut in half without any such artifact sobers the mood a bit. But at least you came out alive! So far. There is still the matter of getting off the island. If the dock collapsed with the rest of the Mansion, your boat and hired retainers might have gone with it!

As the island sounds return to their normal deafening cacophony, images of what you saw inside the Mansion flash through your minds. Some of the items and creatures were beautiful and inspiring, while some were just demented and twisted. With a glance to the trees, you wonder if any of them escaped and live on the island, outside the walls of what used to be a Mansion. Increasingly wary, you also wonder if any of the magical effects which were so prevalent inside might have also escaped.

Examining the now blocked tunnel through which you recently escaped, you see that it comes out of a sheer wall - apparently this wall of the castle was partly built into the mountainside. The wall collapsed with the rest of the mansion, but now rubble rises hundreds of feet into the air. Glancing to the right and left, you see only trees and jungle to the horizon. Away from the ruined castle, through a small break in the foliage you can just make out - water. The ocean lies in that direction, but the sun is just disappearing over the horizon. You guess there is another hour of light, and that you will not be able to get to the water before dark.

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(DM Note - The pile of rubble is immovable for all intents and purposes. Characters can dig for the remaining hour of daylight if they wish, but they will get nothing but sore hands. It is also impractical to attempt to scale the cliff or rubble. If they travel to the east or west, they can follow the cliff for the remaining hour of daylight. They can also travel south, toward the water - it will always remain partially visible so they will not get lost. In any case, there will be no encounters before dark.

After dark, if the adventurers have not set a watch, 1 small piece of equipment (a gem, or anything from the size of a ring to the size of a dagger) disappears. If they have set a watch, roll 1d8. On a 1, the same effect happens - a small piece of equipment disappears. On a 2-8, the character on watch will notice what looks like a vine from one of the trees moving toward the sleeping characters. It may be mistaken for a snake. If any character makes a noise or interacts with the vine, it will disappear into the trees in a second, and not be back during the night.)

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You wake from your sleep stiffly - it was not a very restful night. Nightmares of the magical effects and beasts from inside the Mansion still haunt you.

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(DM Note - The party can attempt to follow the wall, if they were, though it will take them through another day, and another, and eventually disappear. If they want to explore that side of the island they will find nothing but rubble and ruins. Each night they spend in the trees, the same effect occurs of a small item disappearing (or a vine being seen). If a party member specifically interacts with an item that is missing, they will notice it is gone. If they do not, roll 1d20 each day. There is a cumulative chance that something is noticed missing - if a 1 is rolled, the first item which disappeared is noticed missing, if a 2 is rolled, the second item, etc. If the roll is higher than the number of items missing, then nothing is noticed. If the party goes to the water, they can get to it with a half day trek. In case they do, about half way there they will have the following encounter.)

char2m.jpg


Rollin' Robby (AC 5, T 8, hp 40, #AT 2 at + 2, D 3-12 3-12, ML 6) is the magical combination of a bee and a tree. When the characters meet Robby, he will be hiding with a vine cleverly hidden across the path. Robby has a 70% chance for both move silently and hide in shadows while in the jungle. After the first character trips (and any behind the first if they are close together), Robby will stick his head up and start laughing - it is a strange buzz mixed with a deep cough-like sound.

If the party attacks Robby, or act aggressively, he will disappear into the jungle and not be seen again. If they talk to him, or do nothing aggressive, he will begin to talk to them. Robby is actually a very friendly fellow, if a bit shy. He will also walk with the characters toward the beach. He will not, however, leave the jungle, and will disappear at any sign of violence. If the party talks to Robby, roll 1d10 each hour (he will only say each item once except numbers 1, 4 and 7) and he will act accordingly:

1. Honey is *buzz* goood. Do you have any honey?
2. Honey is *buzz* goood. Have some honey! (Robby gives the party a potion of healing)
3. Careful. Sharkgulls Swarming!
4. Like Rocks? Shiny.
5. Like Rocks? Here - shiny! (Robby gives the party a gem worth 5,000gp)
6. Watch out! Vulture Turtle Time!
7. Walk soft. Too soft!
8. Walk hard! Here - hard! (Robby gives the party a staff of healing)
9. Poor Marvin! Always walk under boat.
10. Nice stuff. I find! (Robby gives party all of their missing gear, if any. If none, he gives a small handful of plain gray pebbles)

It will take about 4 hours from the time they encounter Robby to get to the beach, at which time he will fade into the jungle. He answers direct questions with half intelligent words and half buzzing. He does not speak about any specifics.

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place7.jpg


As you reach the beach, you see the waves softly brushing against the shore. There is a slight breeze, but for the most part everything is calm. The soft sand stretches around a cove-like bay. There are small boulders dotting the beach, as well as set into the surf. As you approach you realize they are oddly regular boulders. In fact - they seem like large, stone eggs. Which seem ridiculous. Until you notice the empty shell of one, next to two grooves leading into the ocean.

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(DM Note - These are Vulture Turtle eggs. If the party can manage to take any with them, they can sell them for 25,000gp each (or attempt to tame them). The characters can feel free to explore the beach. The Vulture Turtles leave their young to fend for themselves. About 10 minutes after the party arrives, roll 1d6. If you roll a 1 or 2, one of the characters sees the Sharkgull before it attacks, otherwise it gets a free attack. On the third round 3 more Shargulls will arrive. When rolling initiative, if the party and the Sharkgulls tie 3 times in a row, *another* 3 Sharkgulls will arrive on round 5.)

enhanced-buzz-15328-1296845039-16.jpg


Sharkgulls (AC 3, HD 6, hp 42, #AT 1 at +4, D 9-18, Save F 4, ML 12) will attack until they or their prey is destroyed. They are roughly the size of a small-medium dog and have a vicious bite. If the party wins the battle and stays on the beach, Sharkgulls will repeat the attack each morning. If the party leaves the beach (by going into the jungle) there will be no more attacks (unless they return to the beach).

If the party performs a detailed search of the nearby trees at the edge of the beach, they will find a hidden boat just large enough for the party (and possibly up to 2 eggs if they feel lucky).

Hidden in the sand underneath the boat is an ornate wooden box. The party must state that they are digging in that spot in order to find the box. Any elves or thieves in the area automatically have a 1 in 6 chance to notice something amiss (and know to search that spot).

object2y.jpg


Inside the box is the mummified Foot of Marvin. If grasped in the hand, the Foot can be used as a dagger in combat - it will flex and assist with the stabbing action with its claw-like toes. It has the effect of +5 to hit and +5 to damage if used in this way, but the wielder will be continually scratched by the protruding bone, and thus take 1hp damage each round automatically (this will go through any gauntlet or cloth so is unavoidable). Alternatively, the Foot can be attached to any object and will continually and quickly kick. This can be used to create a very annoying distraction. Or it can be used for such things as attaching to the back of a boat to act as a crude sort of motor.

Also, as the commission for the characters to come to the island is doubled with the return of any portion of Marvin, it is quite a valuable find.

If the characters think to attach the Foot to the boat, and do not take any of the eggs, the boat will speed away from the shore faster than the Sharkgulls can fly and the characters will be safe. If they did not attach the Foot but did also not take any eggs, OR if they attached the foot and did take any eggs, they will be attacked one last time by the Sharkgulls (as above). If they did not attach the Foot and they did take eggs, they will be attacked by the Sharkguls, then given a 5 minute respite, then attacked another time (with 5 minture break) for EACH egg they attempted to bring. Each attack is conducted the same as the initial Sharkgull attack. During each Sharkgull attack roll a 1d10 - on a 1 or 2, one of the eggs in the boat (if any) falls out and is lost into the ocean. The boat will not carry more than 2 of the eggs in addition to the party.

End Notes:
When the party gets to the mainland, after they receive their commission is a good place to divide loot and award experience points. The loot division and experience points (for non-magical treasure and monsters killer, divided among surviving party members) are conducted as normal.

This concludes the MMI (Magical Marvin's Island) series of modules for DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS (TM), designed for use with the Expert Rules, for character levels 7-9. You may want to use the island as a basis for further adventures, or as an eventual base for the party. Robby is still there, as are the Sharkgulls and many other Mystical creations!
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Daeja

Explorer
Now I'm even more motivated to get this story written - I really want to see how you handled the pictures, Hellefire!

Just one last bit, and then an edit....
 

phoamslinger

Explorer
regarding PC's story, and the seagull

[sblock] now that's cool. I envisioned a very similar set of characters and mythos as PirateCat's story. totally different story idea, but the same exact historic bullguy in the dress as a main character.

oh, and I've set the seagull shark thing as my wallpaper on my pc. every time I look at it, I'm reminded of the seagulls from Finding Nemo. "mine! mine! mine! mine!" except now instead of high pitched voices they're low baritones.
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Daeja

Explorer
CDM March 2012 - R1 P6

Round 1, Pairing 6 - Daeja Vs. Hellefire

(2430 words)

The Shift

What the freaking-

"Now, Shanna, it's really not so bad," Felix began, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

Not so bad? Look at me! I sputtered telepathically as I squinted at my profile in the mirror. Thank the Goddess we'd learned the telepathy spell already, as there was no way I could vocalize words in my current condition.

We'd been fooling around with one of Master Yevin's spellbooks for weeks now, and it had been my turn to try a new spell this afternoon.

The shift, it was called. Highly illegal, of course, but then, so much magic was. And the norms just couldn't begin to understand how difficult it was to try to master our craft when we were forbidden from performing so much of it.

So, yes, I should have known better than to try this particular spell. Yevin had warned us against any transformations. But the shift came up on my day, and I'd be damned if I'd let Felix call me too chicken to try it.

The Goddess was obviously punishing me for some reason.

I'm a freaking shark-gull, I shrieked, hopping from one foot to the next. A Shark. Gull.

Felix nodded sympathetically before he burst into laughter.

It's not funny! I snapped my jaws in his direction. My head was now that of a shark, but instead of the sleek body and fins of the fish, I had the body and wings of a seagull. ***image 4***

"It's at least little funny, and really, just look at yourself. You're completely absurd!"

You have to help me shift back, I pleaded. I can't go anywhere like this. If anyone catches me....

We both looked at the box on the table. It was a sobering reminder of the punishment for my current condition - beyond the condition itself, of course.

The box contained a single foot, long and yellowed, with claws where toenails should be. ***image 3*** It was the foot of one of Yevin's former apprentices, a student who had cast the shift spell incorrectly. He'd turned into a werebeast, losing his mind in the process, and savaged the local villagers for days before Yevin had trapped and killed him. Yevin told us that he kept the foot as a reminder of how dangerous spells like this one could be.

And, I suspected privately, because in order to cast this version of the shift spell, you needed to piggyback off of the magical resonance of someone or something that had already been shifted.

"Of course I'll help," Felix said, smoothing down a page in the open spellbook. He reached for the foot, picking up the grotesque appendage with less hesitation than the first time, when he'd held it to cast the spell. "We just need to figure out how to reverse-"

The door to the room swung open, revealing Master Yevin. "You two better be done straightening up in here. I need a transportation spell prepared immediately! I'm heading for the coast!"

Felix bobbed his head down in a subservient manner, while I hopped around on the desk, my head rocking back and forth.

My movements drew Yevin's attention. His lips twitched when he saw me. "What in the Goddess' name is that?"

"Shanna, sir," Felix admitted.

Yevin's lips twitched again. Master, please. This isn't funny!

With a snort - covering up a very undignified chuckle - Yevin crossed the room to inspect my current form. "What have you two done, exactly?"

"The shift," Felix said, pointing to the spellbook with the hand that still held the foot. The thing flopped back and forth in the air, and Yevin's bushy, white eyebrows rose. Felix lowered his gaze to the floor sheepishly and set the foot back down in the box.

"I see," he bent closer to me, running one fingertip over the spot where my shark head melded into my gull body. "Completely seamless. Why
exactly did you choose a, uh, shark-seagull hybrid?"

I was supposed to turn into a seagull, I said, trying to shoot Felix a dirty look. My beady, black shark eyes lacked the expressiveness of my natural blue ones.

"I may have been a little distracted," Felix admitted. "I'm reading this fascinating treatise on Corruth's Greywater Shark, and one of the amazing things about it is that it eats seagulls by...." He trailed off, perhaps realizing that I didn't really care right now about the eating habits of Corruth's Greywater Shark.

"The spell took the images from both your minds and made this," Yevin said, tapping my snout. I turned away from him, embarrassed.

Please, master, can you help us turn me back?

Yevin snorted. "Well, I certainly can't leave you like that." The twinkle in his grey eyes warned me that I wasn't going to like what came next. "Still, you need to be punished for meddling with magic you obviously weren't prepared to use."

Please, master. I'll do anything if you'll help me reverse this! I was not above begging, now that panic was beginning to set in. I didn't want to be a shark-gull forever!

"There's a fishing village that wanted me to investigate some new rock formations," Yevin waved his hand impatiently at the request. "Three days travel. The two of you can go together and perform a proper survey. When you get back, in a week, I'll restore you to your natural state."

My little heart started pounding, But Master, surely you don't mean for me to go out in the world like this? I could be killed!

Yevin snorted. "You'll be able to avoid anyone who might be, ah, startled by your condition if you travel off the main roads."

That was the extent of the discussion. Once Yevin gave us a task, we knew it was best to hop to it.


I insisted on bringing the boxed foot with us - as a 'just in case.' I was scared we'd be caught, and at least if we *had* the foot, there was a chance we could reverse the spell before I was slaughtered out of hand as a freak of nature. That could buy us some time to figure out an escape while I was put on trial for casting an illegal spell.

By the start of the second day, the joy I took in flying was overshadowed by the pain I felt in my arms - wings - from overuse. I still found my new body strange, but at least there was the benefit of flight. Felix was suffering as well - our days were usually filled with running errands around the Wizard's Tower rather than riding a horse for miles and miles.

We arrived at the cliff just after dawn on the third day. The view from the top was breathtaking - the water stretched out for miles, reflecting the early morning light. I paused to inhale the salty scent of the ocean, to appreciate the sight of the sun waking up the world. Then I looked down at the beach, spotting a series of rocks down the shore line. There were two more unusual rocks just below us - they must be what the villagers wanted us to investigate.

It would take Felix some time to pick a way safely down the edge of the cliff, but I could fly, and so headed straight for the beach.

Though I'd thought the formations were rocks, when I got closer, I could see that they were more like eggs. No, not eggs - no egg that I had ever seen was so leathery. And these looked like they were patched together, like a beggar's cloak.***image 1*** I touched down on one, lifting one foot and then the other daintily as I felt the heat that the thing radiated. What had looked like seams from farther away, I could see now were closer to veins. They pulsed and bulged, and I did a quick shuffle before lifting off and finding a perch on a rock nearby.

"What is it, Shanna?" Felix called to me, nearly to the beach now.

I'm not sure. Not a rock, not an egg. Something else, I tilted my head sideways, considering. A pod? But it's warm, it's... I don't know. Like nothing I've ever seen.

"Weird," Felix said, coming up beside me. He moved closer to do his own investigation, bending forwards over the bigger pod, and running a hand over it. "It feels kind of like, uh, well, maybe it's going to...." He frowned as he trailed off, trying to figure out what it was we'd found.

As I shook my head at him, I saw the pod starting to crack open. Felix! Get back!

"What? Why?" He straightened and looked back at me, as if expecting the danger to be coming from behind us. Felix's hesitation meant he was directly in the centre of the mushroom cloud of spores that were ejected out of the pod and into the air. The whole thing deflated into a flat, leathery blob.

Felix coughed, and I flapped around him, staying clear of the spores. "What the hell!" He choked and spat, stumbling towards the cliff. "Oh, oh gross."

Are you okay? I landed in front of him.

"I'll be... fine. I think. That was just... ugh."

Should we take samples for Yevin, do you think? I asked, worried about what Felix had inhaled.

"Let's just get back up to the horse before the other one explodes or whatever. I don't want any more of that crap in me."


The climb back up the cliff took Felix three times as long as the trip down had. I coached him about where to find hand and footholds, cajoling and ordering and generally motivating him upwards. After the first ten feet, he complained of feeling woozy, and by the time he reached the top - a full thirty odd feet up, he was barely able to roll away from the cliff's edge.

"I think... I think I need to rest," Felix said, sneezing.

Ah, okay, I looked around and then let my wings carry me away from the edge of the cliff. Let's get just a little bit farther away from the cliff, okay? I don't want any surprises.

Felix reluctantly followed me away from the cliff, calling a halt as soon as we entered a small stand of trees. He slumped on the ground, breathing heavily, "Just a little nap...."

All right. Are you sure you're okay? You look a little green....

Felix shrugged off my concern and curled himself around his pack, falling asleep almost immediately.

While Felix slept, I perched high up in the trees, watching in case anyone should come near us. After about an hour, I heard Felix moaning in his sleep. When I touched down beside him to try to wake him up, I realized he wasn't moaning in his sleep: he was groaning his way through a transformation.

I flew several feet away, well clear of his flailing arms and legs. I watched anxiously as he grew until he was well over fifteen feet tall. His whole body began sprouting what appeared to be grass. His eyes expanded until they were large, yellow and bug-like. His toes and fingers distended into roots, and saplings sprouted from his back. ***image 2***

I'd only read about them, never seen one, but Felix looked exactly the way I'd always pictured earth elementals. I hopped nervously, twisting my head this way and that as though he might look less frightening from a different angle.

He didn't.

I know you were eager to shift Felix, but this is a little, uh, extreme. Felix didn't respond. Instead the creature lurched towards me, arms outstretched. He moved awkardly, crashing down to one knee before lumbering back up towards me. Felix? Felix! Stop messing around!

Felix, it seemed, was no longer home. I flapped around in a panic for a minute, staying out of reach of the creature. It was getting steadily more stable on its feet though, and I knew once it started moving at top speed, I was screwed. I could just fly away, return to Master Yevin, tell him what had happened and let him deal with it. But by then, it could be too late. What if Felix found one of nearby villages? How much damage could he do as an earth elemental? And what would the villagers do to him in return?

I thought of the werewolf foot in the box, and shuddered mid-flight. No, I couldn't let that happen to Felix. Thinking fast, I decided to try using the shift spell to change Felix back.

I flapped around, above the monster, trying to see where the box with the foot was. I needed it as a catalyst for the spell. I spotted the box peeking out of Felix' pack, on the ground where he had been sleeping.

I dove in and bit down on the end of the box, snapping it up and taking it several yards away from the creature. Chomping down, I splintered the wood and shook loose the foot.

Holding the foot in my mouth, trying not to mangle it too much, I perched on a log facing the monster. Focusing, I began the incantation, telepathically repeating the words that we'd used to shift me.

As the last of the spell's words left my mind, I focused even more intently on the image of Felix as he should be. My mouth started to tingle, wherever the foot touched. I saw the monster start to glow and then it started to change.

But it changed wrong.

When the transformation finished, I blinked hard and then started laughing, the foot caught in my teeth.

My friend was back, but now he had a shark's head, and wings in place of arms. The rest of him, though, was all Felix.

What the hell did you do? Felix moaned.

I probably saved your life, so you're welcome, I giggled. You, the monster you, must have been really focused on Shark-Gull-me. That image melded with my image of you and....


It took us three full days to get back to the Wizard's Tower as we had to steer well clear of any dwellings or other signs of life. When we arrived, Felix kicked the door rapidly.

Yevin opened it with a scowl, took one look at Felix and roared with laughter. "Come on you two. I'll teach you how to reverse the spell, and then we'll have a long talk about casting spells before you've studied them."

***

FINIS.
 

Gregor

First Post
Gregor's Judgement

ROUND I: Match 2
Rune v. Rodridgo Istalindir


[sblock="My disclaimer:"]

I am humbled by the talent arrayed before me and I appreciate the opportunity to provide any kind of critique on your work. Having competed in Ceramic DM a couple of times myself, I know that it takes courage to put your thoughts down on paper and then hand that over for public scrutiny. Please keep in mind that my review and judgement of your work comes completely from my personal perpsective and opinions. I am in no way a professional random-picture-driven-short-story reviewer. I also realize that in criticizing your stories I set myself up for your own counter judgement and criqique (e.g. how can I judge your use of grammar when I make mistakes myself?). Please take my judgement with a grain of salt and know that I respect the creativity, hard work and imagination of everyone in this competition. And now, onto the judgements. [/sblock]

Transition vs. The Hitchhiker

Writing Style & Skill

Two very, very different writing styles in this one. However, both Rune and Rodrigo have high skill with the written word.

Rune starts off with a short piece that mixes poetry and prose to good effect. Quite literally he gives us an actual poem which articulates a prophecy near the beginning of his tale (which was a clever way of weaving in the pictures - but more on that below). The writing is very tight, well-constructed and in some places rather beautiful (“nourished by the remnants of its ancestors”).

Rodrigo submits a well-polished piece that flows extremely well. The story is neatly divided into different settings and the dashes of dark humour are well-played and effective both in their placement and effect. The author’s vocabulary is impressive and there are also some great word combinations in this story (e.g. “glottal fricatives”) which cements this as excellent writing.

Use of the Photo Elements

This was a tricky set of photos – maybe the trickiest of the first round (maybe...) so let us see how our brave competitors fare.

Rune puts forth some good picture use in his short poem/prophecy, where I picked up on elements of the llama and the tree. I enjoyed that the story theme of a mind crossing vast gulfs of space and time served as the link between obscure pictures like a tree, an artisan and a totally weird looking llama. ‘The mind’ touches each in turn and brings us a unique perspective from each. That being said, I thought that the pictures themselves could have maybe been elaborated upon, or worked in with a bit more detail.

Rodrigo does a really great job of using the pictures in his story. I felt that they were used as integral pieces in the tale and in some cases even as primary characters. For example, the llama plays a key role as Paz’s puppet creature and the artisan is Hamiz. The extrapolation of Hamiz’s steel-tube tool to inscribe the diagrams on the urn was awesome. I wasn’t blown away by the circuit-board imagery but it fit and made sense. Above all I thought that the images and their use were well thought out and utilized.

Personal Enjoyment

Rune, I think you put together a really creative story that was written from a very unique perspective and with rather daring style. I thought it was a bit short and I wish I had more to chew on, but I dug up what you put forward. I think you captured the sense of a wandering mind really well and I enjoyed how you described the feelings and emotions of various living and inanimate objects – the tree in particular. There was an overwhelming sense of loss and sadness in your story and I was left wondering if the finality of death for the artisan was really the end, or the segue into the immortality of his mind.

Rodrigo, you put forward a great story that cleverly used the images in a believable way. I enjoyed it immediately, but your story really grew on me once the interactions between Paz and Hamiz started to take shape. The imagery of a llama and an artisan working with radioactive materials in the middle of a remote village was fantastic. I also enjoyed the scenes of Paz trying to get the llama to vocalize and your general mixture of fantasy and science-fiction elements. Parts of your story genuinely made me chuckle (e.g. the llama watching Hamiz from the window) including the all-for-naught ending of Paz at the hands of a fervent mob. Above all though I felt that this was a very well constructed short story that grabbed my attention and never let me go.

Final Verdict

I was really torn on this decision. I enjoyed both of these stories and I think that both of you can write so freaking well. Ultimately I thought one of you used the pictures more effectively and generally wove a more enjoyable tale.

My vote is for Rodrigo Istalindir.
 
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Mirth

Explorer
Mirth - Judgment

Round 1, Match 2

Rune vs. Rodrigo Istalindir

Another couple of very nicely done pieces! Both give lessons on life -- one is almost a prose poem, the other an exciting, operatic adventure.

Style -- Rune comes out firing in short bursts of enigmatic wonder. Visions upon riddles upon questions upon answers about life lead up to one sly joke at the end (how can one know the secret of immortality and yet carry it to their grave, very funny). I love the staccato beats in Rune's writing here because they are so planned, so rhythmic. In opposition to this is Rodrigo Istalindir's saga of a parasitic alien brainworm and his quest for another kind of life -- that finds the ultimate end, as well. So strange that two so completely different stories end up concerning themes so similar. Rodrigo's story is a compelling one, my attention is kept throughout, I need to find out what happens next and the ending makes me want to read the next chapter. Well done to both! You are making this one tough.

Picture use -- Rune undercuts the use of the pictures as a coherent whole by making the pictures themselves the plot rather than just part of it. Normally, I would think of this as bit of a cheat, a finger upside the nose to the judges, but it is so cleverly done and so well-crafted that I can see the old man floating through the silver ethereal plane to contemplate what life would be like as a windswept tree or a furry worm. (Speaking of which, turning a seated llama into the wormmammal -- very shrewd, very funny.) Rune took a left turn at Albuquerque and made it work for him. Kudos. Rodrigo also made excellent use of the pictures -- the wobbly, talking llama, the potter with mind of steel who is so easily manipulated by his greed (Hafiz? Hamiz? which is it), the hanging tree, the ancient circuit board discovery -- all well thought out and put to use, although the picture I most wanted to see (Paz himself) was missing. Each picture was given individual attention and made part of the whole. Again, both did a great job and made it very hard on yours truly.

Personal connection -- Let me just come right out and say, if I could choose to make this one a tie, I would. But I don't have that option. I love Rune's short treatise on the meaning of life, it speaks to me, not only as a reader, but also as a writer. I often write in a style that is very similar and those beats, those rhythms are welcome. On the other hand, Rodrigo has crafted a fantastic adventure that plays out like a movie in my mind. From scene to scene, I'm carried along by a strong plot and interesting characters that never waver.

Final judgment - Sadly, I have to make a decision and despite the fact that Rune's entry bursts with creative energy and stylistic spark, I think Rodrigo's shows strong craft and consideration that ultimately takes the round. Wow, that was difficult.

My nod for Round 1, Match 2 goes to … RODRIGO ISTALINDIR!
 

steeldragons

Steeliest of the dragons
Epic
Round I: Match 2
Rune's Transition
vs.
Rodrigo Istalindir's
The Hitchhiker

Wow. Just...Wow, to you both. This match gives us a spirit/vision quest for immortality and a sci-fi quest ending in an immortality, of a sort, of its own. Both of your creativity is evident. Both works you each should be proud of.

With that in mind, onto the judgement.

1) Writing Style & Skill: They are so different and yet both done so well. Transition's beats and breadth contained in such brevity was amazing. Tight, heavily stylistic but completely accessible. Hitchhiker's narrative was similarly tight, fully realized and had me on the edge of my seat. Both pieces had me eager to find out "what happens in the next line".

That said, the "Hafiz/Hamiz" debacle was an unfortunate mistake. Easily avoidable with the most cursory of editing. I am loathe to detract points for this as I have done this with characters, myself...one gets lost in the writing and something in the brain recalls the name incorrectly (or at least one's fingers do) in one's speeding into the next piece of the action. If it had been once, I could write it off as a typo...but the fact that it is repeated (right at the beginning/introduction of the character, no less) and then changed for the rest of the story, can't be ignored when it could have so easily been noted and corrected.

I am giving Rune an edge here.

2) Picture Use: Hitchhiker's use of the images is, again, solid. They each serve an integral part of the story that makes sense and yet couldn't be done some other way. The tool for working the pot and the use of the filigree as circuitry was, I thought, extremely creative but completely accessible viewing the photo. I found the "silver balls" image was a bit difficult to find. Was that supposed to be the power source they took form the ship? I wasn't sure.

Transition's use of the photos was, I thought, equally creative and pulling us in, as one vision to the next makes each photo the actual character of the story. Something in me just loved "Auld Woldshanks" and the "Wormmammal" was both humorous but also poignant and, rather a bit creepy...but in a cool way. The idea of these silver balls being various "minds" in the ether was similarly evocative and, I thought intriguing. I also enjoyed, and I don't know if this was on purpose or not, the "creation of form"...of a sort...As the reader/shaman moves, from silver ball, to vegetative form, to "animal" form. The only inconsistency there was that, perhaps the human image should have been last to complete that imagery. Though, naturally, the argument can be made that the mortal human comes "beneath/before" the "immortal wormmammal".

But this placement of the hookah smoking shaman is no more or less disruptive to the tale than the use of the silver balls in Hitchhiker.

I am inclined to give no preference here. Both used the images to full effect.

3) Personal Enjoyment: There is really very little way to compare the two. The poetic rhythmic prose of the shaman's quest reads so very differently from the straight prose/narrative of Paz's quandry. Both were enjoyable in completely different ways. I do think, while a contained tight piece of its own, Transition still strikes me as poetry moreso than a story. There really is no "what happens next". Not that there has to be. Immortality achieved upon/taken to the grave.

Hitchhiker leaves me with a "what happens next" that I am eager to find out, but don't feel I have to. The story has been told. The tale of Hamiz and Paz is complete. Immortality achieved in an unexpected way, following an unfortunate trip to the grave.

All in all, I would have like to have seen more "story" in Transition...a longer transition, if you would. The brevity is complete. But it seems more of a meditation or introspection or, as already stated, a poem. It just seems to fall short, for my enjoyment levels, of a story as opposed to the full telling of a tale that Hitchhiker presents.

As my fellow judges have already commented, this was a truly tough one. (And we're only at the second match!?!) I, too, would declare a tie if I could because they are such different types of pieces.

But I will cast my vote, also, for Rodrigo Istalindir.

Congratulations Rodrigo, it seems unanimous.

Winner for Round I: Match 2: Rodrigo Istalindir

And Happy Andorran Constitution Day everyone! National holiday, here, insofar as this collection of a handful of villages and towns strewn throughout valleys and on the sides of mountains could be considered a "nation."
--SD
 

Thanks to the judges for the feedback, and congrats to my opponent for a well-fought match and an intriguing story!

Blame Hafiz/Hamiz on spell check; I inadvertently told it to skip both :doh:
 

Piratecat

Sesquipedalian
Congratulations, Rodrigo! Man, I expected you to throw it so you didn't have any chance at all of facing me. Bravely done, sir. :D

And Rune, your story was fascinating. Nicely written, unexpected tone.

I'll be fascinated to see how the judging for Daeja and Hellefir goes. Two totally different sorts of work.
 

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