[RESULTS!!] Epics & Legends Writing Battle III

[The Observer]

Originally Posted by madeener

asam:

It is still nigh unreadable. When I mean one type of font you can be assured it means both consistent fontface and size.

If you need to create ambiguity, simply have ambiguously named characters eg. Mr. X, the Jester, the One-Eyed, etc., referred to and use conventional formatting.

Story with a single font:

inside the spoiler is the story with a unifont.

If you need to create ambiguity, simply have ambiguously named characters eg. Mr. X, the Jester, the One-Eyed, etc., referred to and use conventional formatting.

That wouldn't be professional now would it?

ah. christ. let me just continue my balloon story thingy.

[Craxuan]

Professionalism doesn't really mean much when you write, I think. If you think the conventional could work better, then do it.

[madeener]

I never mentioned professionalism because it has nothing to do with professionalism.
DO I LOOK INTELLIGENT FORMATTING MY POST LIKE THIS?
No, because it's distracting and doesn't help the reader read my post fluently.............
There is no value in reinventing the wheel if the new wheel does not operate as efficiently as its predecessor.

asam:

Your reformatted story is simply the original story with its font fixed. I'm sure you know that isn't enough. Now, no one will know who is speaking and when (this is troublesome because your story is very dialogue heavy). 'Said' particles to indicate who is talking are the way to go with this.

[Kriegskanzler]

Originally Posted by Fire525

Hey, can I change the recipe of an item, but still use items from DotA?

The origins of an item in your stories don't matter, as that is where your creativity and main plot comes in. As long as the main two items in your story are existing in the game, their recipes do not matter.

[Kriegskanzler]

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UPDATE:

Added CaptainMajestic's and Fire525's questions and my official answer to these questions in the Notable Notes section of the original post. Contestants may check them for clarification.

[The Berserker]

I have to agree with madeneer. It's real annoying to read something that's formatted in that way.

[Green Yoshi]

Suggestion for asam3:

Use first person; when characters (including N'aix) are talking used said particles (use "I said" for N'aix talking). When it's N'aix narrating/thinking (not speaking out loud), use italics.

[Craxuan]

Lol, that's the basics you're nailing Angel. asam3's gonna have a hard time crying tonight.

[Hikatsu Nia]

aw

[The Berserker]

Originally Posted by Hikatsu Nia

aw

hey 1 or 2 word posts are not allowed. be careful, mon.

[willalwaybenoob]

Originally Posted by Craxuan

Lol, that's the basics you're nailing Angel. asam3's gonna have a hard time crying tonight.

Nailing a angel? What the?

[Craxuan]

Angel as in ChaosArchangel, XD!

Okay. I know I risk being disqualified, but I'm about 400 words over the limit. Unfortunately this time I cannot delete any parts of the story, so here we go. Loved Big Bang Age, loved the title.

Title: Pure Pure Heart!
Number of words: 2093

Shards of light leaped off blades of leaves, eager to catch a new, different destination as they rained down on the wild forest of life. Nearby, a ferocious waterfall roared its wrath with unrivaled vigor, eternal and beautiful to anyone whose cycle in this world shorter than it. This was a world she had sworn to protect for a very simple reason, although the only person she had confided about this nearly bashed her skull, frothing.

Well, she supposed that stealing barrels of beer everyday wasn’t really nice, but it’s not like she gave a damn about that bitchy panda’s opinion. It’s not like Furion would ever drink that hundred years old liquor stuffed in his stinking robes either, that’s why she drank it in his place. It took one hell of an effort to get away from that ancient elf whose eyes reflected bloody rage, but if she was given another chance to do it, she will. She’ll do it with a little bit more precaution, while making sure not to lose control of her fine senses and ‘accidentally’ pull out that hilariously long beard at night. Boy, it was fun screwing around with the Sentinels. It was so delightful that she giggled like a true devil every night in her sleep with imaginary horns and little wings growing out of her body, or so she was told, by her.

Her sight blurred as if fading and her mind blanked out. When control finally slipped back into her soul, blood and death has already stabbed every inch of the once-beautiful face of nature. The foul stench squirmed deeply in her lungs, writhing as if to excite, but she was emotionless. Steel. If the Lich King had thought that horrible stink would break her and hasten the taint, he was way off the target. Her flickering orbs of blue settled coolly on the bigger scraps of meat placed perfectly before her feet.

The Pandaren Brewmaster’s grinded face almost writhed in agony.

The Phantom Assassin turned away from the carnage and began to walk. There was no apology, not sadness, and perhaps a little regret that one of her sources of good drink was lost forever. She could do nothing for him, and did not deserve to, because she was the murderer. The taint will continue to corrupt her heart and soul until she was nothing more but an empty shell, and then she would become the ideal killer, the perfect Goddess of Destruction. It was inevitable. The deed was done. In order to save someone important, she had speared herself with darkness and played a most dangerous gamble against the Lich King. It was only right that her one and only foolish mistake resulted in ultimate tragedy.

The grass rustled once, then once more. Surprised that she still maintained her own will, her eyes gazed sideways to meet the new adversary. There stood a failure worse than death as translucent orbs stared straight at her own dying blue.

“Hello, Mortred.”

* * * * *

The Lich King waited for the return of his new champion. Rarely has this monster among monsters favored any subordinates as he saw all as mere pawns and thrash; but the Phantom Assassin, Mortred was one of his best converts yet. Born as a Warden yet lived not as one, she was a free elf who knew the pits of creation’s evil, yet was never bothered or even touched by the black depths of corruption. He soon realized that she was the embodiment of purest soul, a holy symbol of good whose come-to-be can only be miracles of miracles.

He wanted to paint her black so bad he thought he would die of madness, every day. As if he wasn’t crazy enough to begin with.

There was her strength to be desired too. At the age of seven, she fought her way out of the Warden’s filthy den, dealing zero deaths during the process. No one knew where she went. Three years later, even those who fought her themselves thought she as a myth. Invisible as a ghost, quick as lightning, and never existed. She was the top among genius, and she held skills that the Lich King much desired: Kill.

The Lich King broke away from his thoughts as he took notice of the incoming presence. His gift has come. The pure maiden whose soul was now blacker than his. Her lost eyes burned a hellish yellow as she walked ever so gracefully towards his throne, Darkterror’s head skewered on the tip of her sword. So, she had managed to kill the master of time himself. Then, the loss of one of his greatest generals was nothing. Nothing at all.

The Scourge of all evil welcomed his absolute murderer, and impossibly, smiled.

Sword?

* * * * *

“Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!” Mortred’s strikes are out of the world. Her well-honed steel sang a shrilly tune as it tore towards the ethereal spirit Shendelzare Silkwood, whose twin blades stood ready in defense. It was a sure kill, a flare of power so powerful it would detonate like a bomb upon contact. And yet Shendelzare, with all her weaknesses and obvious disparity in power slammed one sword at its weakest point, an intelligent rhino whose mighty charge and deadly horn stopped that snarling chakram dead at its tracks.

A failed frontal assault, Mortred’s already invisible figure vanished as if in retreat, except that her blade had skewered the enemy over a thousand times from a thousand angles. It doesn’t matter if he could block her attack appropriately by aiming her weak points, she would overwhelm him with sheer numbers.

Or would have, if not for the second blade that waltzed into the game and literally danced. It weaved a symphony of joy and freedom, soaring and leaping again and again across the air as her every hit was deflected with deadly accuracy. A laughing ring jingled inside her ears as she was caught mesmerized by the dazzling radiance of killing lights.

Shendelzare saw her chance and immediately feinted a quick cut at Mortred’s face, drawing her chakram like magnet with the feather-light sword before he swung the hilt of the bright, sure blade to his opponent’s wrist, effectively disarming her. The Phantom Assassin finally recollected her thoughts and leaped back ten meters, a distance where she could toss her hidden daggers without obstruction. A slight pause reigned as both sides snatched hungrily at the chance to seize their breath, albeit for different intentions.

On one side, she was ready to kill him. On the other, he was ready to save her.

Shendelzare lifted his right arm and cocked his sword to the ground, and without waiting for her to respond to this cease fire he spoke, “I supposed that you knew right away that I am not her.”

Mortred’s eyebrows raised a little. She had turned her heart and body into steel in order to kill this enemy, but his choice to speak was interesting. Therefore she shall listen until he reveals an opening. Moreover, this enemy clearly has a grasp of her fighting patterns. She pretended to massage her weapon’s arm and she adjusted the daggers hidden beneath the sleeves of her clothes, and spoke with murder, “How dare you control her body! I do not know who you are, but I swear to Elune that by the time I’m done with you you’ll wish that you’re dead!”

The Shendelzare who was not herself took a good look at his swords. He knew he had definitely summoned his own weapons to fight, but they strangely transfigured into something else. One was a dull-edged, heavy sword which dexterity could seek for chinks in the armor. The other was a flat, thin half-blade that could race the wind itself with its unbelievable swiftness. Perhaps it was the rule of this world? At any rate, they sure helped tremendously during that terrifying duel just now. Even with the container’s battle memories he nearly had his head lobbed off at least a dozen of times.

But now wasn’t the time to think about his life. His duty here was clear, and there was only one way he could think of that would work. It was death at best, but he’ll have to prolong that for as long as possible before returning to the throne. It must be long enough to pass on her message to Mortred.

“Heh, this job really sucks.” He chuckled to himself. He could see that Mortred was growing increasingly edgy, and so he quickly said, “I am sorry. I did not want things to turn out like this.”

He caught a flash of confusion, and although she was still as rock the tension was visibly lower than before. He gave a sigh of relief, and readied himself for death.

“She sure was full of hate. Anger. She swore to kill you even if it meant to lose everything. Well, if you ask me, I think she’s a big idiot who deserved to be ended by the Void. Do you know how disgusting it is for a great spirit like me to be in a failure’s body?”

Poison. The poison of words ripped apart whatever control she had left. Like a mad beast she flew through the distance between in an instant and thrust her bare hands. All she could think of was to rip out her enemy’s heart, to stop his filthy mouth from tarnishing her sister’s name –

He never resisted. The slender limb sank deep into his ethereal form and grabbed hold of his fake heart. Pain exploded like fireworks in his head and Shendelzare’s form struggled to maintain its physical existence. Perhaps it was shock; a slightest uncomprehending at the complete surrender of her formidable enemy, but she did not crush his heart immediately. She allowed him a fraction’s time to speak. That was what he aimed for, since the beginning.

“Still – Agh – She never… hated you. Not even once… So…”

He never did get to finish his sentence, for beasts have no use for words. Therefore she simply crushed his heart and snarled wickedly at his toppling, fading figure. As his body fell past Mortred, his lips moved as if to pass on a final message…

* * * * *

The corruption was complete. It started with a devil’s oath, it progressed irreversibly with a loved one’s murder, and it ended with the second killing of Shendelzare Silkwood. The Lich King’s consciousness slithered into her heart to find not a single light within. So he broke her after all, the creation’s purest soul. No words could describe the red ecstasy that coursed through his mad soul as the Frozen Throne shuddered with laughter for the first time since when.

That was why he never suspected that it would be his final laughter.

The chakram sailed through thin air and sank deep into the Lich King’s throne, shattering his consciousness. It was by luck that the core of his soul, the glacial-sealed armor remained intact. The reformed mind shrieked painfully in late agony and rage; disbelief leaving cracks on the surface of ice, “Not- possible! Why? How?!”

The Night Elf slipped a dull-edged, heavy sword from her waist strap and swung. As if tracing a shivering straight line of death, cold steel slithered and slashed apart the glacial prison of Scourge with blazing speed. The core was fully exposed. Unbelievably, impossibly, the Lich King was dying.

He, an unyielding Sword of Justice that always seeks goodness and never fails. Sange.

“You… You!!!” Those were the last pathetic words of a centuries old fool who would never find salvation.

Mortred stared blankly at the failing shadow. The flat, thin half-blade then leaped a hundred slashes that utterly destroyed the core of the Lich King, and thus the Scourge of All Evil was killed, forever.

She, a soaring Blade of Freedom that flew but has never, ever left your side. Yasha.

The curse has been lifted, and needless to say the Scourge’s camp was in utter chaos. Already the essence of the Lich King, the darkness began to pour out of all that was infected. An escape now would be child’s play.

With his last breath, he said, “End this suffering. You are the only one who holds, but does not be hold. For her…”

“Lastly, I have something to say.” She leaped over a fence carved out of bones and walked towards her hideout. Who was she speaking too? No one, really, it’s just that…

“You should have filled me up with liquor instead, idiot.”

[Kriegskanzler]

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REMINDER:

Whenever an entry exceeds the 1,750-word count restriction, it doesn't mean that entry is automatically disqualified, nor does it incur any penalty. It is solely upon the judges' discretion to deduct points in the Subjective Impression criteria, though the rest of the criteria have to be rated objectively. Here's a quote from the rules:

All stories are encouraged not to exceed 1,750 words for the judges' reading convenience. Any work exceeding 1,750 words will not be bestowed any penalty as a whole, but a judge may opt to deduct points on its Subjective Impression, this being the criteria that is wholly dependent upon the judge's discretion.

UPDATE:

Added Craxuan's entry to the list of stories.

[The Observer]

Originally Posted by madeener

asam:

Your reformatted story is simply the original story with its font fixed. I'm sure you know that isn't enough. Now, no one will know who is speaking and when (this is troublesome because your story is very dialogue heavy). 'Said' particles to indicate who is talking are the way to go with this.

damn i'm not good with that.

Originally Posted by Krieg Kanzler

.

and cool.

[madeener]

asam:

Learn to do it.

Craxuan:

My first reading was a confused one. It may be a fault of my own; what I do know is that there is a lot going on at once, but not very well organised, unclear. The fight between Mortred and Shan is worth mentioning--lots of description and much going on in few and large paragraphs. My advice to you is to write in smaller chunks such that the reader can see what's going on blow-by-blow, as in a comic book.

ChaosAngel's piece (or at least the fight scene) isn't much different from yours. But his battle descriptions are mostly simple and straightforward, concerning 'this and that happened', while yours has a lot of stuff going on at the side, which, when the reader tries to understand, trips him off the straight path of what physically happened in the end.

[Green Yoshi]

Agree with madeener; I also found Craxuan's piece hard to understand the first time I read it.

[Craxuan]

Hmm, I guess it's my mistake there. I didn't account that factor in because I had everything in my head planned out; of course I didn't think it was confusing.

EDIT: I broke it to smaller parts. That's all the change I could afford because if I write more, I'm going to fail my test-S.

[ether_chan]

Title: The Parting Gift
Word Count: 1425
Items: Sange - Yasha
Characters: Vengeful Spirit & Phantom Assassin, only.

The night-elf assassin shrugged her shoulders, her svelte figure relaxing despite the otherworldly presence before her. In any other situation Mortred would have opted to retreat, but her sister had managed to catch her on a temple that could only be accessed via a long rope bridge. Now with the bridge falling into the endless pit below, Mortred's eyes narrowed straight into her sister's.

Her deceased sister.

"You're beginning to get on my nerves." Mortred spat, the irritation behind her smug smile threatening to overwhelm the forced display of confidence. "Isn't there something else you'd rather do? Someone else you could haunt?"

The woman before her silently shook her head and drew a scimitar in reply to Mortred's teasing. Shendelzare's curved amethyst blade hummed as soon as it was exposed to the air, its silent threat enough to force the Phantom Assassin into stepping back cautiously.

Mortred groaned inwardly. Sange, the sentient sword. Even her natural talent at evasion could barely keep her from getting skewered by that weapon before. In fact the point of her visit to this abandoned temple was to find an equally powerful tool to use against Sange.

Her answer to the danger Shendelzare's weapon presented was currently resting at the sheath resting on her hip - the prized treasure that had been collecting dust in this temple. Yasha was an untested sword, yet it was rumored to be blindingly fast. A featherweight katana forged by a legendary smith, blessed with the power of a long dead wind deity.

Wordlessly Mortred's hand wrapped around the hilt of the katana, the weapon was supposed to be unfamiliar to her, it was so different from the chakram she'd used for as long as she could remember, but for some reason by simply holding the sword she felt like she knew how to use the strange weapon.

Perhaps this was only one of the many magical properties of the weapon, yet she wouldn't be able to test them out on her own terms. Sange's gentle hum grew into a shrill cry as it arced towards Mortred, its edge homing in on vital points of the night elf's body effortlessly.

In that split-second before her neck was severed from her body, Mortred had already drawn her blade and Yasha flew to meet the scimitar, preventing the weapon from decapitating its wielder.

Not wishing to give her sister to opportunity to come up with a follow-through, Mortred swung her weapon deftly. The silver blade danced in her hands and as she twisted her body and adjusted her footing to draw swirling arcs and circles in the air, all Shendelzare could do to keep herself from being cut was to use her weapon's homing ability to respond to Yasha's blinding speed.

This was no longer a one-sided match and the look of concentration on the Vengeful Spirit's face betrayed how much the threat Mortred presented had grown. Seeing no advantage to be gained from continuing to parry the flurry of attacks from Yasha, Shendelzare kicked back, creating a gap between herself and the Phantom Assassin. Before Mortred could capitalize on her sister's retreat Shendelzare fired a bolt of pure mana, the energy ball twisted and shot towards Mortred so quickly that she barely blocked the ball with the flat side of her weapon - the ensuing flash of blue light blinded the night elf.

In that single moment where Mortred had lost sight of her sister, Shendelzare had lunged forward, her sword coming down in a full-power crashing slash. Gritting her teeth, Mortred whirled, her blade flew once more and Yasha met Sange head on. Yet the force behind the scimitar blow was so strong that Mortred's sword was pushed back, her balance compromised at the same time.

This was all the opening Shendelzare needed. Sange tore into Mortred's side and even the assassin's back-step had only allowed her to live, the wound was still deep enough to affect her movements.

Weakened, Mortred winced with every blow from the scimitar that she blocked. Breathing was fast becoming a chore and she could feel the strength in her limbs seeping away as this duel persisted.

Shendelzare grinned, this was the first touch of expression to graze her previously granite features. "You only succeeded in killing me back then because you'd backstabbed me."

"After all this time, you only decide to speak now?" Mortred spat incredulously.

"My victory is sealed," she countered simply. "I believe I can afford to take the time to play with my food right now."

Mortred removed one hand from the handle of Yasha and pressed it tightly against the growing red spot against her abdomen. "And here I was thinking you were a mindless spirit bent on getting revenge."

Shendelzare chuckled, her scimitar hovered in front of Mortred but it didn't look like she had plans to bury it into her sister's chest just yet. "Did you know, the other wardens are already on your trail, it was only a matter of time before you'd have been caught anyway."

Mortred sheathed Yasha, the gesture caused the Vengeful Spirit to drop her guard and the assassin saw the opportunity to retreat. She drew her cape in front of her, the thick fabric wrapped against Sange, preventing it from moving quickly enough to catch her as she rolled back, away from her sister.
As soon as the assassin had landed back on her feet she instinctively tossed a poison-coated dagger in Shendelzare's way. Her dagger had found its mark, Shendelzare's leg had been impaled by the weapon, but its poison couldn't spread through the spirit's body.

"I suppose I misjudged you." Shendelzare grinned, and instead of moving forward she pulled out the dagger from her skin and casually tossed it aside. Her flesh grew back from ectoplasm and she was once more closing the distance to her prey, slowly, as if she were savoring he moment. As soon as she was within striking distance the vengeful spirit raised her weapon and as she brought it down, the amethyst scimitar sang violently.

Mortred raised her arms, shielding herself from what was to come - what didn't come. She blinked, Sange had been buried beside her, the sword's gleam died the moment Shendelzare relinquished her grip on its pommel.

"You'e good enough. I suppose now you'll be able to survive the other wardens hunting you."

"What?" Mortred couldn't show her disbelief better even if she tried.

"You've had all these years to figure it out Mortred, I gave you the opportunity before to be able to kill me. I wanted you to be able to leave the life we were destined, if the others thought that you could defeat the best among them, then I thought they wouldn't bother hunting you down." Shendelzare shed the nether energies binding her to this plane, her glowing ectoplasmic shell flickered, her ordinary night-elf body replacing it and she knelt down beside her sister, her now normal eyes delving into her sibling's own. "I wanted you to have the chance to survive in the world beyond the tomb... To enjoy a normal life, free of the shadows of your past."

"That was my mistake I think, I should've known that we could never escape our demons. Facing them, then overcoming them was the only option to earn freedom." Shendelzare smiled, she did so warmly and as her hands moved forward, she drew Mortred into a warm embrace. "Yet to do that, you will need strength."

"I came back to give you that, Sange is the sister blade of Yasha. I think, with both of them, you'll have the power to carve out the kind of life you want to lead from now on." and just as Mortred held out a hand to touch her sister's cheeks, the spirit exploded in a mist of fine energy. "It won't be easy, but I hope... I pray that you'll be able to sister." The wound in her side had been entirely healed, the weapon beside her lay dormant and as the disembodied voice of Shendelzare echoed into the night, Mortred couldn't help but stare at the weapon she'd been left behind.

The phantom assassin remained kneeling there, she stared into vacant space for a few hours, her head lost in thought. It was only until she saw the first rays of the sun piercing through the indigo of the night sky that she woke up from her trance.

After muttering a soft prayer, Mortred stood up, her lips forming a few words that sounded all too much like. "Thank you... Sister."

[Craxuan]

Lolwut you kidding me?

[madeener]

ether-chan:

Not many comments for you. It's an exceedingly simple story and because of that and your careful attention to words it's well written. There are minor mistakes like

"you'll have the power to carve out the life you want to lead from now on." and just as Mortred held out a hand to touch her sister's cheeks"

or

""You're beginning to get on my nerves." Mortred said"

but you've mostly got it all down.

For writers like ChaosAngel and you who have the means to explore roads less trodden: I invite you to try and make this competition your time to prove your abilities above all the others. You have much potential, and the only thing stopping you is time.