hobbygamers ~ View topic

Feel free to comment and critique. Constructive crits, tips, and tweaks would be most appreciated. It feels kind of cramped since I had to squeeze it down to the 300 word limit. Fire away guys!

Muse
John Philip Corpuz

The room was littered with random detritus: musty clothing, spoiled food, stacks of dusty tomes, and scattered sheets of paper covered with frenzied scribbling. Inquisitor Phaedrios knelt down, careful not to stain his greatcoat with bits of the dead man’s brains, and picked up a handful of sheets. He perused the dead man’s writings and grunted.

In starless darkness
It whispers into my ears
Dark tidings, pain, fear

Phaedrios was not the most literate of persons, but even he could tell that this “poetry” was drivel. Still, it was a dead man’s drivel and the case deserved some cursory investigation before the Inquisitor ruled it an obvious suicide.

He continued his inspection and arrived at the writing desk at the back of the room. The desk stood out among the poet’s possessions, being clear of clutter save for a birdcage surrounded by a carefully drawn binding circle of powdered silver. Perched on a swing within was an androgynous little man-thing that would possibly have been beautiful if it wasn’t soiled with the excrement of the dove that kept it company. It looked up at Phaedrios with half-sullen, half-pleading eyes and mewled piteously.

No wonder the man went mad and committed suicide, the Inquisitor thought. He’d actually tried to bind his own muse. Fool. Phaedrios brushed off the circle’s silver dust and opened the birdcage. He reached in, wiped off the birdcrap that clung to it, and then set the creature free. It gracefully bowed to the Inquisitor and then scampered out the window into the night. As it rounded the street corner, the little thing turned toward Phaedrios and flashed a predatory smile.

Powdered silver, a dove... Not a binding, he tried to exorcise it!

Phaedrios scrambled out in pursuit. Nine Hells, it was going to be a long night.

it works, i think... what are the standards for the contest? i mean, do we need to hold back a bit in terms of profanity? no?

anyway, here's mine:
------------------------------
Admiral Stone marched into the room with a stern look. "Lock the doors," he barked, and the sentries behind him obliged. He walked down the long hallway and into the area where the prisoner was being kept.

The girl swung gently in the middle of her cage. "So," Stone began, circling the room as he went, "you are the sorceress... the immortal."

She said nothing.

"Do you have any idea what your meddling has wrought?" he roared. "You've killed so many men, and we have squandered our resources in this hunt. It has been a long endeavor, yes... but no more. Today, you are mine."

Still, she said nothing.

"You will lead us to the grimoire. You have no choice. You are caged in cold iron, bound to your familiar, with the words inked upon the bars. We have sealed your magic. You are helpless."

"Hmhm..." she giggled.
"What?" asked Stone.
"You have sealed my magic, yes. But helpless? Child... I have seen the planets live and die, the dance of the stars as they weave their patterns through the cosmos. I would not have lived this long if all I had to rely on was my magic."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Think about it. Examine. Learn.

That's the beauty of the mind."

The quill shot into the air with blinding speed. It punched through Stone's armor effortlessly and pierced his heart. He was dead before he could even say a word.

"I hope you have learned your lesson, little one," she said as the key floated up from Stone's waist to unlock the cage. "It will be useful in the next life.

Believe me. I would know."
--------------------------------
So, there. you submit yours yet phil? i wanna see what you guys think before i hand in mine ^^

Muse
John Philip Corpuz

No wonder the man committed suicide, Inquisitor Phaedrios thought. The fool had actually tried to bind his own Muse. As was typical, the binding appeared to have backfired spectacularly, judging by the dead man’s scattered writings.

In starless darkness
It whispers into my ears
Dark tidings, pain, fear

Phaedrios was not the most literary of people, but even he could tell that this “poetry” was drivel. Still, the case deserved some investigation before he ruled it a suicide.

The Inquisitor considered the dead man’s desktop, remarkably clear of clutter save for save for a quill pen, dry inkwell, and a birdcage surrounded by a carefully drawn binding circle of powdered silver. Perched on a swing within was an androgynous little man-thing that could have been considered beautiful if it were not soiled with the excrement of the dove that kept it company. The little thing looked up at him with half-sullen, half-pleading eyes and mewled piteously.

It was obvious what had occurred. The dead poet had summoned and bound his Muse, and the psychic strain had driven him mad, eventually leading to his suicide. There was no particular reason to hold the bound spirit captive any longer. Phaedrios brushed off the silver of the binding circle and unlocked the cage. He reached in and gently brushed off the worst of the bird crap that clung to the Muse and then set the creature free. It gracefully bowed to the Inquisitor and then scampered out the window into the night. As it rounded the corner, the little thing turned toward Phaedrios and flashed him a mocking, predatory smile.

“It whispers into my ears /Dark tidings, pain, fear...” The poet didn’t bind it, he tried to exorcise it!

Phaedrios scrambled out in pursuit. Nine Hells, it’s going to be a long night.

<end>

How does this one go? I tried to eliminate some of the backstory and the room to focus more on the Phaedrios and the Muse. What do you guys think?

Muse
John Philip Corpuz

No wonder the man committed suicide, Inquisitor Phaedrios thought. The fool had actually tried to bind his own Muse.

The Inquisitor considered the dead man’s desktop, remarkably clear of clutter save for save for a quill pen, a dry inkwell, and a birdcage surrounded by a carefully drawn binding circle of powdered silver. Perched on a swing within was an androgynous little man-thing that could have been considered beautiful were it not soiled with the excrement of the dove that kept it company. The figure looked up at him with half-sullen, half-pleading eyes and mewled piteously.

It was obvious what had occurred. The dead poet had summoned and tried to bind a Muse, and the psychic strain had driven him mad, eventually leading to his suicide. There was no particular reason to hold the bound spirit captive any longer. Phaedrios brushed off the silver of the binding circle and unlocked the cage. He reached in and gently brushed off the worst of the bird crap that clung to the Muse and then set the creature free. It gracefully bowed to the Inquisitor and then scampered out the window into the night.

Phaedrios continued the suicide investigation. As was typical, the binding had backfired spectacularly, judging by the dead man’s disjointed writings.

In starless darkness
It whispers into my ears
Dark tidings, pain, fear

Phaedrios was not the most literary of people, but even he could tell that this “poetry” was drivel. Still, there was something unsettling about the dead man’s words.

“It whispers into my ears /Dark tidings, pain, fear...”

Outside, the little creature turned back toward Phaedrios and flashed him a mocking, predatory smile.

The poet wasn’t binding it, he was exorcising it!

Phaedrios scrambled out in pursuit. Nine Hells, it’s going to be a long night.

<End>

URGENT: I need some serious recommendations guys, as I'm going to submit a version tonight, as in the next 2-3 hours. Which would you guys prefer, version 2 or 3?

3, I think Very Happy

3.