CERAMIC D.M. the final judgement is in!


log in or register to remove this ad

Shadoe's Lady

First Post
mirthcard said:
This second tease is mirthcard simply being cruel. Please do not encourage him further. He does have work to do, you know. ;)

Work? You don't mean the kind for pay do you? You mean working on your entry, which is far more important. Right? :)
 

Shadoe's Lady

First Post
Here goes nothing

With much trepidation I hereby submit my entry four the final round of
CERAMIC DM:
Mirthcard vs. Shadoe's Lady

A Long Trip With A Happy Ending

I regarded the picture hanging opposite the bed as I listened to a distraught woman telling me the particulars of her son’s disappearance. About a week ago, he didn’t come down for breakfast and he wasn’t in his room. Despite the surveillance cameras in the hallways and outside the house, there is no record of him having left. The guard at the gate doesn’t remember anyone coming in or going out. There are no signs that anyone entered or left this room. Not that she can tell-or anyone else for that matter-not physically. But I, on the other hand, can feel something-it’s like a psychic trail he left behind. This is why she hired me. The trail starts somewhere inside that picture and I don’t know where it might lead. I ask her to leave the room and I lock the door behind her.

There’s a new designer drug on the market. It’s something like acid, but instead of hallucinations the user is actually transported, for a time, to another dimension. Usually it wears off in a few hours and the user finds himself back where he started. It’s new, and expensive, and from the looks of this house the kid can afford it, but nothing in this room is giving off the vibes of a thrill seeker. Yet the trail he left behind shows all the signs. Whatever his reasons were for doing it, I won’t find them here. Nor will I be able to determine the cause of his long absence. I’ll have to follow the trail. Unlike him, I won’t need the drug.

I sit on his bed cross-legged, preparing to enter the trance state necessary to follow the trail he left behind. I study the painting. It’s a boat, with sails and oars, filled with jovial looking people (one hanging from a ladder) floating above a small village with wooden buildings and a river running through the middle. (picture1) The pennants flying from the masts begin to wave in the breeze and I hear singing. They’re singing “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds,” of all things. I shout to them asking if they’ve seen a young man, perhaps a little taller than me, with brown hair and blue eyes. Of course, they reply, he taught them the song. They are more than happy to give me a lift to the place where they dropped him off. We fly away in the painted boat over the painted landscape until we come to a place where the painted river begins to look more real to me. They leave me standing on a white sand beach and fly away singing merrily.

The water here is breathtakingly clear and blue. I can see a small rowboat, far out, and someone sitting in it. I can also see a large, black, sinuous shape making its way toward me through the water. (bonus picture 1) The snake advances until just his head is out of the water, resting on the sand. I ask after my quarry, but the snake hasn’t seen him. He says he must have been out tipping rowboats when the airship dropped the young man off. Speaking of which, there’s one left on the water that he’s been lulling into a false sense of security. He smiles his serpentine smile and slithers off, calling over his shoulder that I might want to walk away from the beach in the direction of the sun and ask around at the cow pasture just beyond the trees. I thank him and follow his directions as best as I can, considering the sun seems to be salsa dancing its way across the sky.

It isn’t long before I find myself on the opposite side of the fence from a group of wildly colored cows that, unfortunately, either don’t understand me or don’t speak. As I ponder my next move I seem to hear a small high pitched voice coming from somewhere just beyond the fence singing, “Rolling, rolling, rolling, gotta keep ‘em rolling, keep those dung balls rolling….” An iridescent green dung beetle is rolling his smelly prize along the ground, all the while singing absently to himself. (bonus picture 2) The little beetle isn’t sure if he’s seen the man I’m seeking—all humans look alike to him. He remembers a few of them here sometime in the past few days. They stood by the fence to the cow pasture, then wandered over to look at the bulls, then there was some sort of commotion and they headed off in that direction (he points with one foreleg). While I don’t think this has anything to do with my case, I can feel the trail leading in the direction the beetle indicated. I leave him to his dung and his song and continue on my way. Now it seems I am tracking the footsteps of at least two, possibly three, humans. Or possibly two to three creatures in human shaped shoes-you never know. The path stays close to the fence for a time and then heads into the trees.

I follow the path for what seems like hours to me, although it’s hard to tell since the sun isn’t moving in a very stable arc and time probably moves differently here than what I’m used to. It’s cool and quiet under the trees. Eventually the path leads to a clearing where two men are sitting, slumped against the trees, sleeping. At the sound of my voice, they wake abruptly and scramble to their feet. Both men are unarmed and dressed in boots and very little else, which shows off their large muscles quite well. Despite their obvious physical strength, they look tired and show signs of a recent defeat in battle. (picture 4) I am correct in this assumption, they tell me. They participated in a series of gladiatorial games and were soundly defeated. They were on their way home when they passed the pasture and the third member of their team wished aloud for the strength and power of a bull. They said a change came over him as he ran from them—they saw him grow taller, his muscles grow larger, and a pair of horns begin to protrude from his forehead. They tried to follow him, but his speed was so enhanced by the change that they have not caught up to him yet. On a hunch I take one of his boots that they kept and focus my energy on the former wearer. I now feel the pull of two trails, both leading in the same direction. I tell the two men about my mission and they eagerly offer to accompany me.

The sun doesn’t seem to set here and my newfound companions don’t seem to tire very easily. After what could be hours or days (hard to tell with that crazy sun overhead) we reach the end of the path in the forest and come to a cave. As we head deeper and deeper into the cave, I feel both trails growing stronger until we reach a plain stone archway, carved neatly into one side of the cave wall. The three of us pass under the archway into a haze of green smoke coming from a copper cauldron. We hear a set of footsteps approaching-big, heavy footsteps. Out of the smoke comes a large, extremely well muscled creature with the body of a man and the head of a bull holding a spiked mace. (picture 2) It soon becomes clear that this is the lost party member. Even though he ran from his friends when his transformation began, he is now quite happy to see them. The change startled him and when he calmed down he found himself in the cave, lost. He wasn’t the smartest of men before, and the bull’s brain isn’t helping-he keeps having the oddest urges to paw at the ground and charge moving objects. I leave the three to their reunion; after they assure me they can find their way out on their own.

I continue heading deeper and deeper into the cave, following the remaining trail, until I come to a plain white door. I open the door and find myself in a sort of laboratory. There are various substances in test tubes and glass beakers being heated over Bunsen burners. In the center of the room, over a burner of its own, in a large glass jar, stands a brown field mouse, tenderly holding a yellow canary. (picture 3) I call out a name and the mouse starts and nods his head. I turn off the flame on the burner, but before I can break the glass to release him he stops me. There are things I need to know, he tells me, like why he came here and why I was sent after him. It’s about a woman he fell in love with who his mother felt was unsuitable-the canary. It’s about his overprotective, overbearing mother hiring someone to get rid of this woman-but not in any way that could be traced. It’s about a dealer who sold him a pill so he could follow his love. It’s about a spoken wish to find her and be joined with her forever-although I think the Bunsen burner was a little extreme. So I point out that an eternity in this fantasy world is not the most comfortable idea. I tell him that he’s going to have to convince his mother that whatever hell she sends this woman to he will always find her and she’s going to have to accept that he loves who he loves, however unsuitable. He thinks for a bit, and then agrees to return to the place he belongs.

We are back in his room, the three of us now, standing in a circle holding hands. He is much more handsome than in the pictures his mother showed me-his brown hair showing glints of gold, his blue eyes much bluer in person. And his lady is beautiful, tall and willowy, with pale yellow hair that falls past her waist. As they walk towards the door I stop them. On what grounds, I ask, did his mother find this young woman unsuitable? Race, he answers, as she lifts a lock of hair away from her face revealing a subtly pointed ear. He unlocks the door and finds his mother standing in the hallway. Her face pales as she sees who stands by his side. He begins to tell her, in no uncertain terms, how things will be from now on. And I begin to feel that everything will be fine.
 

Shadoe's Lady

First Post
There! It's done and I can't take it back. Good luck to Mirthcard. I can't wait to see what you did with what we were given.

edit: Ack! "four the last round"! Where are my brains????? :mad:
 
Last edited:

Maldur

First Post
ooh, first story.

As my brain isn't working properly Ill do my judging from the emotion, not solid reasoning :D

Im afraid Youll have to do with oneliner judgements.
 









Mirth

Explorer
mirthcard vs, shadoe's lady

Siratos finally awoke to find that his hands were chained to either side of the black wrought-iron cage where he was now apparently being held. His vision was blurred, his brain ached and he could feel something wet falling from his face to splash on the metal floor of the cage. He didn't even need to look down to know it was his own blood, seeping from a head wound he received when that awful beast had come at him with its mace (Pic #2).

Siratos realized now how foolish he had been to think that he could navigate The Maze of Deritaeus, help or no help. The old sage shook his head to try and clear his vision, only to find a searing pain shooting through him. When he tried to yell out, he found that his mouth was gagged as well. His feet slipped on the blood-slick floor, and he fell. Both arms now held the entire weight of Siratos' body between them. His body felt as thought it were on fire. He passed out.

As he came to again, the odd sound of squeaking and chirping made him feel as though all that had come before was a dream. As soon as he tried to move, he knew it wasn't. Luckily the pain had subsided somewhat and his vision had cleared. He wondered how long he had been out. He heard the chirping and squeaking again. Looking about the stone chamber, he spied his two compadres Mikal and Nagon. The poor animals were being kept on a countertop in a glass jar (Pic #3). And standing next to them was his arch-nemesis, Deritaeus, the black mage, staring at him.

"I'm glad you're finally awake," the dark wizard smiled as he turned on a flame under Mikal and Nagon, who held each other and began to squeal. "I was just making some lunch." The evil one turned the flame higher and chuckled at the discomfort it caused Siratos. "You realize how ridiculous you looked trying to make your way through my maze, don't you? Crouched over, holding a lamp and following a little mouse - it was simply too much. I was laughing so much I almost wasn't able to give Mettallax the order to cave your head in, although the canary was a nice touch. I didn't think you knew about my gas traps."

"I'm afraid your rescue mission has been for naught, my old friend," the villain continued as he pulled a bell rope nearby. "I have the sky-anchor and your crew. All I need do now is uncover the command word and I can sail out of this confounded prison isle you sentenced me to." The sound of a large metal door screeching open was followed by the click-clack of hooves on stone as the great minotaur Mettallax entered the room, its cow-stink and fetid breath arriving only moments before the beast itself.

Deritaeus grinned, "We can do this easy way or the hard way. Either you tell me the command word or Mettallax here can finish what he started earlier." The black mage looked truly surprised and disappointed when Siratos nodded his head in agreement. "That's a pity, I had so hoped that you would pick the hard way. You are so much weaker now that you have grown so ancient. Mettallax, help the old goat with his gag." The minotaur stepped forward, set down his mace and unlocked the cage. One giant bull-hand reached in and palmed Siratos' entire head, wrenching it upward while pulling down on the gag with the other.

Siratos screamed in pain at Deritaeus as his mouth came free, "You miserable wretch. I shall dance on your grave, I swear it." Mettallax gripped Siratos' neck and the old man screamed in pain again.

Deritaeus waited for the screams to subside before continuing, "Enough of the empty threats, Siratos. Tell me the command word now or Mettallax will squeeze until your head pops off like a ripe berry."

"Very well, very well. Just remember later that you asked for this," Siratos looked towards the glass jar behind the dark wizard and spoke, "MikalNagon." He smiled as he heard the glass shatter. Deritaeus, knowing a trick had been played, yelled "Squeeze!" to Mettallax as he spun around towards the counter. The last thing Siratos saw was the mouse and the canary changing back to their true selves - the great barbarian warriors, Mikal and Nagon! (Pic #4)

Detitaeus didn't have time to speak or cast a spell for Nagon's hand was at his throat, "You said squeeze did you, blackheart? Glad to oblige!" The villain crumpled to the floor, his neck broken.

Mettallax bull rushed the pair but they were too fast, pausing only long enough to grab the keys to the cells before rushing out the metal door, the minotaur hot on their heels. Mikal blocked the door as Nagon freed the crew and they all made for the boat at the shore of the island. Hooking the sky-anchor to the ship, they took off into the air (Pic #1), leaving the minotaur behind on the shore.
 



Mirth

Explorer
Shadoe's Lady said:
Somebody get Mirthcard a towel and some Gatorade!

Actually, some cold medicine, OJ, kleenex and a warm bed would do :) Took my nearly one-year-old son to the doctor for possible pneumonia (doesn't have it, thankfully) and now I've got it, whatever it is. Luckily, I'm snowed in at home today. Don't think I could go to work feeling like this. Gonna go watch some cheesy TV and try to sleep now.

Good luck, Shadoe's Lady!
 

Shadoe's Lady

First Post
mirthcard said:


Actually, some cold medicine, OJ, kleenex and a warm bed would do :) Took my nearly one-year-old son to the doctor for possible pneumonia (doesn't have it, thankfully) and now I've got it, whatever it is. Luckily, I'm snowed in at home today. Don't think I could go to work feeling like this. Gonna go watch some cheesy TV and try to sleep now.

Good luck, Shadoe's Lady!

Man, that bites! I'm glad neither of you has anything serious. Cheesy TV should definitely help!:p
 


shadoe

First Post
This is just a friendly bump back to the first page, and a question of when do you think we will get the final results on this back?
 

An Advertisement

Advertisement4

Top