[RESULTS ARE IN!] Epics & Legends Writing Battle

[safetybreak]

Just one suggestion, make new theme every month, new theme every week is just... too much. You can't really expect us to write quality 1000 words every week, can you? Or is it just me?

Originally Posted by tanan

I will prepare my review on your work in due time and I am going to review your story basing on how you used tropes.

What's that supposed to mean? Are we obligated to use tropes here?

Besides that, competition idea is really nice. Once more, Fuhrer, you gave this sub-section what it needed the most, some competitive spirit!

[Kriegskanzler]

^ Competition theme is now done every two weeks, which means that the duration for writing stories is two weeks.

No, tropes are only part of tanan's basis, as it is his specialty.

[safetybreak]

Ye, I understand that he is into tropes thing, but still, I didn't really notice that anyone else on this forum uses them. Maybe, for the sake of this competition, he should refrain from judging the stories based on tropes, as they will, IMHO, bring unnecessary chaos and inequality.
Eg. he will give better grade to a story in which writer used tropes, than to other in which writer did not used them, although, objectively looking, second story is better than first one?

Maybe I just misunderstood your words tanan (Care to explain?).
If that is, my apologies.

[tanan]

Originally Posted by safetybreak

What's that supposed to mean? Are we obligated to use tropes here?

Ahehehe fear not Safety-san, the moment you write a story, the moment you conceptualize a character, the setting and the plot, you've already invoked the magic of tropes... So really, don't give much thought on what I've said and just write your story to your heart's content!

Ye, I understand that he is into tropes thing, but still, I didn't really notice that anyone else on this forum uses them.

Ah but actually you and everybody here in FF have used tropes even if they didn't know the trope's name.

For example, in your interesting Two Sky fanfic, you have incorporated these following tropes:

You tell the story in first person mode. You are the protagonist as well as the narrator. You make witty remarks, sarcasms and a healthy measure of skepticism to the land that you've been transported.

What trope did you use?

FirstPersonSmartass


You were walking back to your home when suddenly all hell broke loose and then got transported to some alternate world.

What trope did you use?

AnotherDimension

You were attacked by some monster when you were walking back home and you would have died if not for Alleria saving you. She then said a very cheesy line and then you immediately deadpanned her by saying, “Worst Terminator imitation I ever heard.”

What trope best describe your character?

DeadpanSnarker

You were then transported to the world of Dota where it was said you've been prophesied to be their hero and defeat the Scourge enemy.

What trope best describe your character?

TheChosenOne

But still I would judge a story according to a given criteria and I assume that mein Fuhrer will be giving us the criteria for judging am I correct mein Fuhrer?

he will give better grade to a story in which writer used tropes, than to other in which writer did not used them, although, objectively looking, second story is better than first one?

Basing a story to the usage of tropes is not biased at all; in fact it would be a better and systematic way of judging the contents of a story.

If you must know what tropes are then I shall give you this link but be warned...

Once you've grasp the potency of knowing tropes, you will then be bound to hours and hours of reading it is very addicting...

tvtropes.org

[safetybreak]

I have read them before, at least some of it, what seemed interesting. But, during the whole time I was reading, I felt like I was cheating, because it shows the ways something needs to be done to be successful, and that i rather learn from my own experience.
Somebody could say that I'm objecting too much, which really wasn't my intention. I just wanted to clarify some things so later it won't happen "Oh, I didn't know".

[safetybreak]

Anyway, here's my story:

THE STORM IS COMING

When I was a little kid, I spent most of my time playing in the Elwynn Forest. I used to talk with flowers, giving them imaginary names, breathing the fresh air, admiring the grace of slender doe, and power of proud deer. And, in those moments, I felt that I am the one with Nature, that all is the way it is supposed to be.

Occasionally, they would try to separate me from that beauty, sending me to the school, and forcing me to memorize all the aspects of, so called, “war tactic”. Slaughter, in other words.

But I would always find a way to escape, back to the Mother, back to chasing butterflies, and watching snow-white clouds in their never ending race.

And now, two hundred years later, not much have changed. I have found a way to escape, once more. Way to escape that meaningless slaughter, to which none knew the beginning, and the ending… Everybody was praying for it.

Every battle, I have witnessed, was harming the Mother, more and more, and soon, I was no more able to participate, from all the inner pain that was tearing me apart. Soon, they have all became the same. Sentinels, Scourges; they were all the same, only minding their own profit, without thinking about the consequences.

But, I have escaped. And now, as I was getting closer to the Forest, to the Mother, beautiful pineapple scent has woken all those memories in me. The forgotten, distant years of yonder, started to shine in the dark rooms of my mind, reminding me what I was, and what I became.

And finally, there it was. Same as the last time I saw it, Elwynn Forest. Enormous tree tops flaunting on the wind, blossoming flowers glowing on the morning sun, fresh mountain stream assembling in the depths of the earth; not so far away, in the small village called Dynroth, inhabitants were preparing for daily, working routine. It was the village of my childhood.

But before visiting all those people, that formed me the way I am today, I decided to take a little walk, to greet beloved Mother Nature.
Walking on the narrow, wild forest path, my welfare suddenly changed to horror.

The old forest belied. Ancient trees, not so long ago my faithful companions, were leaning their thousand years old crowns over me, judging; whispering death sentence with their soft, inconstant voice. Young doe jumped next to me, but I could no longer enjoy in its perfection. It was afraid; I could see that in its eyes. In its eyes I was just another foe, that has come to torture the Mother, and I realized what kind of man I became. The way the battle shaped me. The sacred bond between me and the Mother was broken and gone, as traceless as bygone snow.

The sun's rays have pierced through the dense crowns, and, although there was not a single cloud on blue sky, I could sense that something is wrong.
“The storm is coming…” I whispered.

The small pond, that I used to go fishing at, seemed empty, dead. Small fishes have retreated into the deeper layers of water, as they predicted the upcoming disaster. Single lightning ripped sky away on the horizon, and few seconds after, powerful sound almost made me deaf. Lightning by lightning was ripping the open sky, and I just stood there, like spell bounded with all that devastating beauty. The flowers of evil started shedding their luscious essences, and whole atmosphere was just… terrifying.

Dark, sinister, clouds covered the sky above me, dropping out of their inner self a rain of massive ice cubes. As the sky itself was bleeding.
I covered my head with hands, but still got few blows, that almost knocked me down. Running trough the forest, searching for cover, I managed to see, with an edge of my eye, a small cottage, which has nested below the sad, bent willow wood. I quickly run to it.

I was sitting in the edge of a completely empty room, and praised gods for the shelter they provided me with. But suddenly, I felt a wave of excruciating pain inside my chests. I could hear the nearby tree being torn from the roots and falling on the ground. Whole cottage was trembling on the mighty wind.
With every second, with every old tree being destroyed, every plant getting blown away, I was suffering great pain, and, for a moment, I thought I am going to die. But, somewhere, in the deepest corners of my mind, I knew the pain was good. My body was purifying, and the bond between the Mother and me was establishing, again. The pain was so strong, that I finally passed out.

Waking up, I realized that the storm has finished. When I exited the cottage, the devastating effect, the marks of destruction that it left on this old forest, were everywhere around me. Destroyed trees, flowers crushed upon the mass of bygone rain of chaos. In the distance I noticed that the village has suffered as well. Few houses lost their roofs, and old church tower was leaning in bizarre angle.

But I was not afraid for the village. People will take care of it. The new village, they will build, will be better than old one. Change is necessary, despite it sometimes represents in devastating ways. Same happened to me. I have changed.

And the forest? Do not worry about the forest, dear reader. It will find a way to heal, as it does, every time.

Words: 927

[Kriegskanzler]

Originally Posted by tanan

But still I would judge a story according to a given criteria and I assume that mein Fuhrer will be giving us the criteria for judging am I correct mein Fuhrer?

Yes, indeed. I was actually thinking if I should personally send the criteria to the judges only through PM or should I post it here. I guess I'll just post it here so that even the contestants will know what to do. Here it is:

Criteria for judging:
1. Theme cohesiveness - 30%
(How the story utilizes the theme, and how he unites and forms it with the other parts of the story)
2. Substance and depth - 30%
(How the story affects the reader, the story's dramatics, use of words, how the words were formed, etc.)
3. Spelling, grammar and syntax - 20%
(Need I say more to this?)
4. Appropriateness - 10%
(Is the story competition worthy?)
5. Subjective impression - 10%
(How the story appeals to you personally)

Well, that's that.

[tanan]

Originally Posted by safetybreak

I have read them before, at least some of it, what seemed interesting. But, during the whole time I was reading, I felt like I was cheating, because it shows the ways something needs to be done to be successful, and that i rather learn from my own experience.
Somebody could say that I'm objecting too much, which really wasn't my intention. I just wanted to clarify some things so later it won't happen "Oh, I didn't know".

Is using a calculator in a Physics exam cheating? Is using MS Word with all of its spelling and grammar checking cheating when making an English report?

I do not think so and neither do I think using tropes as a form of cheating. It is instead Empowering. When you learn the fundamentals in writing a story, not only will it empowers you but it will also give you a new perspective in looking at stories, animes, movies, mangas and all literary media. It will make you wise and you will appreciate a literary work more than the average person.

@Fuhrer:

Ah thanks for showing us the criteria mein Fuhrer, now I shall go into my meditation room and contemplate on the stories here...

*Meditates*

Ahhhhmmmmmm..........

[Fire525]

^ I can see what you're getting at, but one thing to remember is that physics and english reports require much less (in fact none in the case of physics) creativity. I'm not saying its cheating, but I am saying that there is a chance that because you know about tropes you try to use them to much, resulting in something that is overflowing with too many things. Just as an example, have you ever played a game where you do quite well, then learn a new move and try to keep using it, but fail most of the time and end up losing more times than before?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not insulting tropes, you or anyone who looks for tropes and use them, in fact, if you can do it well, I congratulate you. I have seen your work and it's quite good and funny, so obviously trying to use tropes for you works (I say trying because you actually intend to put the trope in, whereas most writers here just write the story and tropes happen).

Hopefully I've made my point without being insulting, as that was not my intent.

*Takes Deep breath*

Phew

Okay, maybe that was too much.

[willalwaybenoob]

Nice story Safety Break. The last line by Furion tied the story up pretty well.

[The Berserker]

i think i heard that line before... bah nvm

[Forceflow]

Competition submission by Forceflow. [Subject to tweaking]

A Minute Detour

We are not so different you and I Furion. I animate corpses whilst you animate trees. The Death Knight’s mocking words still rang in his ears as he felt the familiar pull and push effects on his body.

60…

The Night Elf known by many as The Prophet felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as his feet touched solid ground again. Only there was no familiar earth beneath his feet, instead the ground felt like warm smooth stone. The air had a putrid stench in it, as if it was contaminated. A horn blared before him and he looked up to see a giant beast with large golden eyes that seem to illuminate the night hurtling towards him.

59…58…

Thinking quickly, Furion crouched down and placed both hands on the stone. Yes, he could feel it. The earth was wounded but still alive—barely. The pulse was faint and alien but he could reach it. He closed his eyes and invoked.

56…55…

The stone cracked as a sapling rapidly grew before the druid. The stone crackled as the tree grew swiftly larger; the sapling was now almost a full grown tree towering before Furion. A second later, the steel beast crashed into it and stopped.

52…51…

Getting back on his feet, the druid looked around in confusion. This isn’t Ashenvale forest. Where am I? Tall structures blocked his view. Not a tree was in sight. No wonder the Mother feels like she is dying. Looking down, he saw a human crawl out of the beast. No, it isn’t a beast. It had never been alive. What is that thing?
49...48…

“Where am I, human?” asked Furion as he approached the human.

“Éloignez-vous de moi, tu bête!” the woman shrieked as she backed away from Elf who stood at least two feet taller than most humans. In addition to his extra height, Furion assumed the antlers didn’t help make him seem docile either. She pulled out a thin black metal object and pointed it towards the elf.

43…42…

“There’s no need to be afraid, human,” Furion said extending a hand. The woman was dressed in a deep forest green. Her hands were steady, but her wide eyes betrayed her confidence. She was obviously scared. It’s as if she hasn’t seen a Night elf before.

39…38…

“Hein? M'entendez-vous? Qu'est-il arrivé?” a black rectangular box strapped on the human’s waist chattered. The woman took her hand off the metallic object and pulled the box to her face.

35…34…

“Aider ! Il ya quelque chose ici. Il vient pousser des arbres sur le terrain en face de l' UAV?” the woman cried.

32…31…

Furion listened as the black box replied calmly. There must be another human. The box must be some form of transmitter those goblins use on their mad inventions. By Elune! Where am I?

30…29…

He took a step forward and heard a loud crack just as something clipped his shoulder. He yelped and grabbed his left shoulder in pain. His eyes caught a flash as something else whizzed past him. Must be a kind of one handed rifle, Kardel would know he thought as the woman continued firing wildly.

27…26…

Suddenly, the entire area was lit up by bright lights. The Prophet was forced to shield his eyes. Reaching out blindly, his hand made contact with the tree he had grown earlier. Again, he invoked. Goddess help me!

24…23…

Furion saw the lights from other steel beasts racing towards him. In the air, he saw the lights of what he assumed were steel birds rising off the ground in the distance. The tree moved, swaying slightly before lurching out of the ground. I animate corpses whilst you animate trees.

20…19…

The beasts had formed a semi-circle around and between him and the woman. There were 3 in total. More humans clambered out of the beasts.

“Obtenez sur le terrain! Ceci est votre seul et seul avertissement!” a man yelled as the rest took cover behind their beasts and pointed larger rifles at him. His ears registered a distant hum in the air. They obviously weren’t friendly. Furion nodded to the treant.

18…17…

The treant was devastating. Leaping directly onto the centre beast, the treant left a huge dent on top of it. A fluid motion with the treant’s branches followed its charge, skewering both humans hiding behind it. A loud clattering sounded, as humans on either side opened fire on the treant with their rifles. Kardel would kill to get his hands on one of those.

15…14…

Furion heard screams as the treant dealt with the remaining humans. At least that’s one thing we have in common. He looked around on this alien world. It wasn’t Azeroth. He knew that much at least. The distant humming got closer.

12…11…

A large explosion rocked the air. Some suicidal human had dropped a bomb. Techies would have loved to play with those. The flaming wreckage of the treant lay motionless –its life gone. We are not so different you and I Furion. NO!

10…9…

As far as his eye could see, man-made construction lay around him. No wonder the Mother is dying here. Suicidal was probably the right word to describe these humans. Slowly but surely, these humans were destroying their world. Perhaps that’s why Mother sent me here instead.

7…6…

The steel bird dropped into view and hovered nearby examining the wreckage. Furion stood there. He was furious.

4…3…

His eyes glowed a golden yellow as he raised his staff.

2…1…

Bright beams of light streaked towards the bird as an object detached from the bird and flew towards Furion.

0

Furion felt the familiar tug again. He closed his eyes and smiled in sudden realization. He had his answer. Thank you Mother.

The shaft of light burst through the bird and it seemed to die as the humming stopped. Meanwhile the missile impacted upon the ground where Furion was.

However, when the smoke cleared, no alien traces were found.

Word Count: 1000

**

Author's Note:

Firstly, yes it is exactly one thousand words (according to MS Word, excluding title). I had to cut down quite a bit I feel this story would be more complete given an allowance of 500 more words But since I can't, I'm going to let you readers figure out what Furion learnt in this story instead

Secondly, the title is pronounced mine-ute I thought it was fitting

Thirdly, the language spoken by the humans is 'google translated' French. I do not speak French, and have no grasp of the language. So there are probably serious errors in grammar. If this is a problem, I will switch to something else.

And finally, thanks for reading.

[safetybreak]

My guess is that Furion teleported to the modern world.
And the countdown theme sounds so familiar... oh wait...
Well, I'm looking forward every story that will be posted here. More stories, more fun!
Good luck in competition.

[Forceflow]

^ Lol. Sorry for the format rip. But your original story did it very well. + theres no points for originality :P

On the other hand, I thought the countdown theme fit with his minute cool down on teleport.

And yea, Furion got TP'ed into a French Army Base


Good luck with the competition to one and all.

[safetybreak]

Hah, I was just joking there, because that countdown theme in my story was pure Lost rip-off.
Anyway, i just realized that one minute countdown fits Furion's blink cd. Nice touch there.

[willalwaybenoob]

Nice story, but i don't understand what Furion learned.

[Fire525]

Birth

Furion Stormrage, leader of the Sentinel, looked out at the forest. He had fought many battles, using all his might to protect his home. He had thought that he would sacrifice anything to save his forest, his people, but now he was not so sure.

Feeling a touch on his shoulder, he turned, and found himself looking into the eyes of his friend, Purist. 'Is it time?' Furion asked.

Purist merely nodded in answer, before gesturing to a tent that was set up behind them. 'I hope you are ready,' Purist said, before stepping into the tent.

Taking one last look at the forest to remind himself what he was fighting for, Furion followed his friend. Inside, his wife, Mirana looked up at him, and struggled to get up. Purist hurried to her side, and pushed her down, before gesturing to her swollen belly.

'It will not be lo-' Purist began to say, before he was interrupted by Mirana's cry. Furion looked down, knowing that his wife was suffering for nothing. He had had a vision, of blood, death, and the destruction of his forest. It was all due to one being, someone who had not yet been born. His son. The very child that was about to be born. Furion sighed, then looked up, as the sound of crying filled the tent.

He was here!

Furion glanced at Mirana, holding their son, before drawing his knife. He strode over to Mirana, and looked into her eyes. In that brief second, an eternity of knowledge passed between the two. Mirana nodded, and passed the child to Furion.

Furion looked into the eyes of his newborn son, eyes filled with innocence. One day, they would be filled with hate and anger, but for now, they showed no sign of evil. Furion closed his eyes, then lifted his blade into the air. One stroke, he thought.

For the Sentinel!

The knife began its decent towards the infant, before a loud cry rang through the tent.

'STOP!' Purist yelled.

Opening his eyes, Furion looked at Purist, who had his hands on Mirana's belly. 'What is it?' Furion asked, anger in his voice. He did not know if he would have the courage to strike a second time.

Purist passed his hands once more over Mirana's belly, before looking up at Furion. 'She is carrying twins' he answered.

Furion's eyes widened in shock. Twins! He looked down at his son, now unsure of what to do. If he struck at this child, he might kill the evil one. But he could not know! The child still in Mirana's belly could be the one who would destroy the forest and bring the Sentinel to its knees.

Crying once again filled the tent, as Purist handed the second child to Mirana. Looking at Furion, he saw the indecision in his eyes, and shook his head, knowing that if the vision came to pass, everything would die.

Furion looked at Mirana, hoping that she would be able to take this choice from his hands. She merely shook her head. 'I cannot help you in this battle, my love,' she whispered.

Furion looked from once child to the other, before taking the second child from Mirana's arms. Looking into its eyes, he again saw nothing but innocence. If either child was to become evil, they did not know it yet. Placing both infants on the bed, Furion once again drew his knife, looking from one to the other.

In the back of his mind, he knew that his only option was to kill them both. He lifted the blade in the air, ready to stab, then made the mistake of looking down at his sons. They both stared up at him, solemn innocence in their eyes.

Furion's hand began to shake, before he snarled, and threw the dagger out of the tent. 'No one dies tonight!' he cried.

Purist looked up in horror. Surely Furion had gone mad, he thought, opening his mouth to protest.

Seeing this, Furion shook his head. 'No, Purist,' he said, in answer to the unasked question. 'If I kill them, I am no better than the Scourge.'

'But the vision-' Purist began, before Furion interrupted him.

'The future can be rewritten,' he said. 'We cannot know if it will really come to pass.' Looking at Mirana, his voice became gentler. 'What shall we name them?' he asked. Seeing Purist about to argue, his voice became hard again. 'That is my decision Thunderwrath!' he shouted, knowing that in doing so, he had lost a friend.

Disgust filled Purist's face. 'You will regret this!' he yelled, before striding from the tent.

Mirana watched him leave, then turned to her husband. 'Name the first Magina,' she whispered, 'The second you may name.'

Furion's eyes widened in shock. In night elf culture, the mother always named the children. But perhaps it was fitting, as their sons had not only survived birth, but also him.

Furion nodded, then searched his mind for a fitting name. 'A name to strike fear in the hearts of our enemies,' he whispered to Mirana. 'A name to remind us of this night. A name to remind us how quickly life can be taken. A name to remind us that we must take care of our sons, lest they become unbalanced.' Furion looked at Mirana and smiled. 'I name him... Blade'

Number of words: 920

[Forceflow]

Originally Posted by willalwaybenoob

Nice story, but i don't understand what Furion learned.

Well firstly, the story begins with Furion doubting himself. We can see this as the DK's words ring in his head throughout the story and when he summon's treant's he compares himself to a necromancer. In the end he realises the differences between himself and the Death Knight, and this realization allows him to transport himself back to his world. (Else his next teleport might simply be another modern location). His thanks to Mother Nature shows the reader that he is aware of why he has been sent here; and is now ready to return to his cause without hesitation.

Specifically what he learned, I did not put into words. In hindsight, I think its better for readers to figure this one out themselves

^^ Fire525, that is a VERY nice story.

[willalwaybenoob]

Awesome story you got there, Fire!

[The Berserker]

Blade... isn't that the vampire-slaying dude? nice one, Fire!