The CHALLENGE continues!

[Glass Mouse]

Cool thread. Can I join? I am usually pretty busy, so I bet I will fail most weeks to meet the six works cut, but it's at least with a try!

Of course you can join! I will say, however, that you shouldn't do it if you plan on failing most of the time. Striving to create above and beyond (aka, by reaching the goal) is the whole point of this thing.

Am I allowed to submit previously created works, or do they have to be created within the challenge week?

Do musical compositions count? I don't see any mention of music in the OP.

Please add me to the list of participants, starting Monday January 27!

They have to be created within the week they're submitted for. There are some grey areas, e.g. if you start something in one week and finish it the next - but in that case, you'll usually only count the finished piece.

I don't see why music shouldn't count. Any ideas how to quantify a piece?

I'll add you to the list as soon as you pass a week. Welcome to the Challenge!

[Moriwen]

I'd like to join, and I think I'm still in time for this week?

793 words

1072 words

Both excerpts from my story-in-progress; I'm terrible at writing in linear order, so they're from totally different points, both in the middle of the story, and probably make no sense out of context.

The last 300 or so words of the second one are on the theme of "glass." For future reference, does that work to fulfill the theme, or does it need to be a totally separate piece?

[ArkenBrony]

I'll be out this week, my brother was home from college so i got no drawing done, be back next week!

[Rysc]

late at night--use "the"

or not? Perfecting essays

head hurts; need to draw

Creative writing works, too...

Spoiler: Faun-esque OC

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Spoiler: Another OC

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...need to practice my hands...and feet...

Spoiler: 377 words of flash fiction

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We did not know where to turn.

He appeared early in the morning, so early, before the dawnwatchers had yet returned. So early many of us believed that he had come during the midnight. But he came in the morning, while the sky turned slightly paler, and we waited and hoped and watched for the sun.

We lost our lives in that morning.

He claimed he was Chosen. He declared that more darkness, evil was coming. He told us to obey, to protect ourselves from them. And we obeyed. We brought out swords and daggers and spears, old and beautiful relics and rusted and bent remnants, wood and stone for walls and shovels for ditches, plate and chain for protection, and ourselves for the fighting. How could we know the truth? We were clueless, lost, pitifully trusting. We could not see past the veil of his smile.

We were fools.

He would make the dawn return, the light, the sun, he said. He would make our town glorious again, he said. He would cast back the night, he said. He would fulfill the prophecies, he said. With his deluding smile, he said it all, he made promises like the rain, and like the rain they ran away. But they did not nourish the ground.

Did he really know about the prophecies? He was the one who would bring back the sun as foretold, he said. We knew what was foretold. It had been repeated in countless rooms as the fire fought the darkness. As we eagerly gathered around and listened, as we eagerly told and retold, as we eagerly memorized and dreamed. But it was just one of many, tales and hopes as numerous as the stars, and just as distant. And yet we clung to them, for we needed the light, even the faraway light of hope. A fool's hope. But we were fools.

And so we slaved away for him, building, breaking, gathering, training. And he stood at the highest hill and smiled and ordered and hacked away at our hopes, but we yet dreamed of the sun.

And now he is there, smiling still, while the deepest shadows gather round him, and the inky blackness stretches forth--

We do not know where to turn.

Spoiler: Around 450 words of character info & backgrounds

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Character Name: Muirel the Navigator
Age: Deceased
Race: Nyulkith
Occupation: Mariner, navigator, explorer
Type: Historical

Personality: Muirel’s personality has long been lost to time. Tales say she was brave and adventurous, which isn’t very helpful as historical figures go. The only other hints her descendants can (or will) give is that she loved order, even if that seemed a bit at odds with her love of sea.

Appearance: Muirel is usually depicted as tall, with brown skin, grey eyes, and either sea-green or dark blue hair.

Combat Notes (if needed): N/A

Background: From the moment of her creation, Muirel, unlike many of her fellow Nyulkith, had been drawn not to the lands of Aestora, but to its vast and mysterious oceans. Ever desiring to seek and chart the waters and coastlines, she led a series of five main voyages (and innumerable “lesser” ones) throughout these oceans. From these journeys she was able to produce many nautical charts and maps, and these, along with her logs, helped to form the basis of seafaring knowledge to this day. Legends say that her ship, the Wayfinder, can sometimes still be glimpsed in faraway waters, and that Muirel did not truly die, but instead continued on to sail throughout the most distant seas, and even beyond the ends of the world…

Character Name: Gwylan Eshar
Age: 20
Race: Nyulkith
Occupation: Chronicler of Muirel (Mapmaker & naturalist/loremistress)
Type: Whatever fits. If ever, minor

Personality: Usually level-headed and alert; tends to sum up people upon first meeting them and stick to that impression of them, which sometimes leads to her being rather judging of others; slightly wary of others due to…reactions to her mismatched eyes, but perfectly willing to talk if you treat her respectfully. Rather inquisitive and meticulous.

Appearance: 5’ 5”, with light brown skin and white hair; odd-eyed: left eye is blue and right eye is brown; longish face; usually wearing travelling clothes that have seen better days; always carries around her pack of notebooks, inks, and pens

Combat Notes (if needed): Due to her extensive travels, Gwylan frequently encounters unsavory characters. As these chance meetings tend to happen in unpopulated wildernesses, she carries around a halberd, with which she is well versed in fighting. In the occasion that she would need to defend herself in tighter spaces, she also has a dagger, though in any situation Gwylan would prefer to try to bluff or talk her way out. She also has a very rudimentary grasp of magic, but since this was mostly gleaned through her notes and observations, it would not be the greatest aid in combat (much less any practical situation).

Background: While she tends to stay on land, Gwylan nevertheless follows in her ancestress Muirel’s path as a mapmaker and traveler. Ever on the hunt for obscure lore, rare plants, or mysterious places, she has traveled much since a young age, recording her finds in honor of Muirel. Though she does have a “home base” of sorts in a city, where she occasionally plies her trade as a mapmaker and scribe, she is most often away, traversing the lands of Aestoria.

Spoiler: 5 haikus related to glass

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an invisible
barrier between us--swing
at a shatterpoint

molten red, flowing
slowly pouring, holding on,
ballooning, growing

take the grains--castoffs
and fragments and miniscule
creatures lost to time

as we stand--the shards
fall around us; broken pasts
in glittering pieces

behind this clear wall
is another world--the deep
stares back at their faces

[Glass Mouse]

Status yet again!


Glass Mouse passes with a comic page and a 4,940 word short story.

Lycunadari passes with four winter photos and a sneak attacking Haley.

TheWombatOfDoom passes with 2,401 words of game actions.

MeanMrsMustard didn’t upload/send me anything.

Neoriceisgood passes with six new comic pages.

HeadlessMermaid didn’t upload/send me anything.

redfeatherraven didn’t upload/send me anything.

Grozomah didn’t upload/send me anything.

Rysc passes with 377 words of flash fiction, 450 words of character info, 5 glass-related haikus, and two OC drawings.

ArkenBrony didn’t upload/send me anything due to family visit.

Moriwen passes with 1,865 words of story, 300 of which take place above a glass dome.



Thus, MeanMrsMustard, HeadlessMermaid, redfeatherraven, Grozomah and ArkenBrony FAIL this round!

Glass Mouse, Lycunadari, TheWombatofDoom, Neoriceisgood, and Rysc PASS this round!


Current standing:

Spoiler

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Glass Mouse
Current run: 170 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: -

Lycunadari
Current run: 56 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: -

TheWombatOfDoom
Current run: 25 weeks
Longest run: 3 weeks
Themes: -

MeanMrsMustard
Current run: -
Longest run: 39 weeks
Themes: -

Neoriceisgood
Current run: 18 weeks
Longest run: 32 weeks
Themes: -

HeadlessMermaid
Current run: -
Longest run: 11 weeks
Themes: -

redfeatherraven
Current run: -
Longest run: 4 weeks
Themes: -

Grozomah
Current run: -
Longest run: 4 weeks
Themes: -

Rysc
Current run: 6 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: 1 week

ArkenPony
Current run: -
Longest run: 1 week
Themes: -

Moriwen
Current run: 1 week
Longest run: -
Themes: 1 week

This week's theme, chosen by HeadlessMermaid, is Sin.

Next week's theme is chosen by redfeatherraven - let me know in PM or this thread, and I'll include it in the next status.





I lost my theme streak Oh well, something’s gotta be lost in the pursuit of deadline-burdened stories.

The last 300 or so words of the second one are on the theme of "glass." For future reference, does that work to fulfill the theme, or does it need to be a totally separate piece?

Welcome And yes, as long as it’s one piece’s worth of theme, it counts.

[redfeatherraven]

What have we learned, children? Stop trying to cram it in on the weekend. It would also be of benefit to not try to complete all my writing for the week in one weekend sitting, either, but I digress.

I did have some writing - apologies on forgetting to upload it, been busy, but I'll throw it out there retroactively. It doesn't clear - barely clears a third of the required count - but damn it, I refuse to be dead.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B0f...it?usp=sharing

Now if I can just get my fingers to function when I want them to, we'll be golden. Don't know how I'll incorporate this week's theme, but I'm sure I can write about Toby think of something.

If it pleases the crowd, next week's theme: I'm Not Angry.

[D.KnightSpider]

Yeah, uh...

*tenders letter of resignation's resignation*

Funny story, it turns out that spending 30+ weeks building up writing/drawing habits can't be undone easily. Do you guys have any idea what it's like to be going: "Ack, I've got to get something up for the Challenge."-"I'm not in the Challenge any more."-"I'm running out of time."-"I'm not in the Challenge any more."-"Why am I trying to draw something related to this week's theme and why did I even check the theme in the first place?"

Seriously, it was weird.

I feel slightly bad for the whole going-away-coming-back-again thing. <tongue-in-cheek> But you guys have infected my mind to the point that I'm hopelessly corrupted. </tongue-in-cheek> So I guess I'm returning to the game for the duration.

[TheWombatOfDoom]

Yeah, uh...

*tenders letter of resignation's resignation*

Funny story, it turns out that spending 30+ weeks building up writing/drawing habits can't be undone easily. Do you guys have any idea what it's like to be going: "Ack, I've got to get something up for the Challenge."-"I'm not in the Challenge any more."-"I'm running out of time."-"I'm not in the Challenge any more."-"Why am I trying to draw something related to this week's theme and why did I even check the theme in the first place?"

Seriously, it was weird.

I feel slightly bad for the whole going-away-coming-back-again thing. <tongue-in-cheek> But you guys have infected my mind to the point that I'm hopelessly corrupted. </tongue-in-cheek> So I guess I'm returning to the game for the duration.

That was a confusing way of phrasing at first, but I think...you're coming back from leaving? WELCOME BACK.

-one-of-us-one-of-us-one-of-us-one-of-us-one-of-us-one-of-us

[D.KnightSpider]

Yeah, pretty much.

I was trying to say 'Hey, guys, I'm back.' But, I felt really awkward about the whole situation and that kinda came out in my post.

[HellfireLover]

I would like to sign myself up for the challenge. I have enough time on my hands and need to stop being a chronic procrastinator - my art is not getting any better because I do not practice and I need a good kick up the bum to get moving on it.

Please accept ART only, no writing. May submit digital speed-paints, digital sketches, sketchbook pages with character ideas, inked pieces, or polymer clay models depending on how I feel.

Note to self: Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

[Grozomah]

I'm back too! :)
As my excuse I say I had some exam-related stuf to do, I finally read Clockwork Orange, tried a few new cooking recipes (chicken breasts baked in dough with proscioutto ...mmm tasty ), and bottled my first batch of beer (brewed the second one, now happilly bubbling away in the other room). I guess that's creative, but it's kinda hard to upload a bottle.

So yeah. Let's get serious now. This week i played around with designing a logo for my beer and I wrote 537 words about how you're supposed to go around making it, including a few tips and tricks I picked up on a lecture i've gone to. I'm not sure if this is legit, since it's non-fiction and more a condensed recipe by yours trouly, but i hope to add a few extra drawings until Monday.
Also a friend asked me to make him a fantasy world. So here's a map and a general descriptory overview of topology, climate and habitability which is also something over 500 words.

[Rysc]

Entries for this week:

Spoiler: Introduction

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I've naively/ insanely decided to try the 100 themes challenge...with comic pages, in an attempt to practice layouts and details and backgrounds and whatnot. Counting this (hopefully) as 2 points...

Spoiler: Another character...

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For some reason, another humanoid with animal ears. Kitsune, this time.

Spoiler: 830 words of description and background for said character

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An unassuming female--though her grey fox ears and gold, foxlike eyes betray her race--with dark brown hair streaked with what appears to be premature grey. Her face is somewhat angular, and her expression seems to be perpetually poised to tell a tale...

Ai, or Makoto, as she calls herself, is constantly weaving veils of false tales,and is adept at bluffing her way out of situations. If the situation requires, she's quick to smile, talk, or sympathize, and while there's always more to her actions than she lets on, she is in part fueled by her loneliness.

She (or her Makoto persona) is essentially built on lies. Tends to withhold, twist, or embellish the truth even to "friends." This has prevented her from actually having any close companions, which in turn makes her more likely to deceive others, since "they won't last long, anyway."

In days of yore, Ai led a perfectly happy and normal life. Well, relatively, anyway. Even though one of her parents was usually gone for up to several months, the other was always there for her: her mother taught her the fine art of fable-telling, as well as how to weave her own complex tales, and her father often took her on outings throughout the surrounding villages, reminding her in between conversations about getting new shoes to observe and listen but not be seen. While she did have some inklings of what her parents actually did, Ai was content to not obsess over what it could be and to simply live and, in a few years, being telling stories of her own to her younger brother.

At the age of eleven, though, her parents, deeming her competent enough, involved her in their schemes; she was to go work as a serving-girl in the kitchens of the castle of a nearby lord and gather information. Her father also "worked" as a servant there, and her mother acted as the link in the network between various operatives, conveyed all the information to their employer, a rival lord (or in this case, lady). This delicate arrangement lasted for several years, and at times Ai delighted in the thrill of this undercover work, but in reality wished that this could just all go back to normal. Contact with her father was sparse, and virtually nonexistent with her mother and brother; though she had at this time befriended the head cook less out of information-gathering than loneliness, she still found the most comfort in reading old tomes full of histories and fables. More than anything, she wanted to hear her mother recount the tales of heroes long gone, of epic quests and tragic sea battles, of warriors devoted to their cause and friends devoted to them.

Her world crashed the year she turned fourteen. Her father had gone out on an errand with several other servants, and never returned. Rumors flew around the castle. Such a seemingly faithful servant, a spy? And with several outside contacts. Well, the lord of the castle had acted justly, and had rid the place of that devious man. There might still be other traitors, though. No person--servant, guard, or noble--was to leave the castle until the traitors were found. The age old fears of every spy started to creep up into Ai's life. She had joined some time after her father, and had rarely had contact with him; surely she would be safe? But still... The cook noticed her nervousness, and Ai put her mother's teachings to the test. She spun a tale of a mortally ill mother, of urgent summons from her older brother. She could not leave her "mother" to die, yet she could not leave the castle. The cook was sympathetic, but could only advise her to speak to someone of higher rank. But Ai had listened and watched for four years, and she knew what she could do.

That night, during a changing of the watch, she slipped out of the castle. It was so strange; these daring escapes only worked in the tales of old. But perhaps she was making her own story, now. Once out of the castle, she found relative freedom; to any inquiring strangers, she recited the tale of the sick mother; she was Makoto, a dutiful daughter. Her real mother and younger brother had also vansihed, so Ai, armed with the last fragments of information concerning the new developments, made her way to her family's employer, the Lady Chiyome Suzuki. The Lady let her in, and kept her in employment.

Currently, "Makoto" is wandering the lands of the Lady's rivals, under the guise of a biwa hōshi, reciting the tales and epics of the glorious past and gathering secrets of the tangled present. If pressed, she'll spin elaborate lies as to her "origin," most of which point to her being a rōnin. Though she is officially carrying out orders from the Lady, she is also pursuing her own goals...

She WILL find her parents.

[Glass Mouse]

I would like to sign myself up for the challenge. I have enough time on my hands and need to stop being a chronic procrastinator - my art is not getting any better because I do not practice and I need a good kick up the bum to get moving on it.

Please accept ART only, no writing. May submit digital speed-paints, digital sketches, sketchbook pages with character ideas, inked pieces, or polymer clay models depending on how I feel.

Note to self: Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

Greetings and welcomations! I'll make sure to only accept teh arts from you

[ArkenBrony]

Yeah, i just didn't do enough this week, once i get into the motions, it'll be hard to brake, hopefully it'll be next week

[HeadlessMermaid]

High!
I just finished uploading last week's submissions. The photos were done yesterday, but I had some late visitors last night, and, ummm, too much wine, I guess.

10 photos total, half of them are theme-related this time. Woo!

[Glass Mouse]

Curiouser and statuser!


Glass Mouse passes with a comic page and 1,054 words of short story.

Lycunadari passes with three people drawings and four sky photos.

TheWombatOfDoom passes with 4575 words of RPG ball writings, and 364 words of Random Banter campaign.

MeanMrsMustard is out due to disappearance.

Neoriceisgood passes with three double-sized comics, new backgrounds, a commission sprite, and four other assorted drawings.

HeadlessMermaid passes with ten photos, half of which are themed.

redfeatherraven didn’t upload/send me anything.

Grozomah passes with a logo, a map and 1,000+ words of different writings.

Rysc passes with a comic page, a character portrait and 830 words of character background.

ArkenBrony didn’t upload/send me anything.

Moriwen passes with 1,006 words of story and 507 words of characters discussing past and present sins.

D.KnightSpider passes with 1,346 words of novel writings and a drawing style experiment.



Thus, redfeatherraven, and ArkenBrony FAIL this round!

Glass Mouse, Lycunadari, TheWombatofDoom, Neoriceisgood, HeadlessMermaid, Grozomah, Rysc, Morwen and D.KnightSpider PASS this round!


Current standing:

Spoiler

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Glass Mouse
Current run: 171 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: -

Lycunadari
Current run: 57 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: -

TheWombatOfDoom
Current run: 26 weeks
Longest run: 3 weeks
Themes: -

Neoriceisgood
Current run: 19 weeks
Longest run: 32 weeks
Themes: -

HeadlessMermaid
Current run: 1 week
Longest run: 11 weeks
Themes: 1 week

redfeatherraven
Current run: -
Longest run: 4 weeks
Themes: -

Grozomah
Current run: 1 week
Longest run: 4 weeks
Themes: -

Rysc
Current run: 7 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: -

ArkenPony
Current run: -
Longest run: 1 week
Themes: -

Moriwen
Current run: 2 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: 2 weeks

D.KnightSpider
Current run: 1 week
Longest run: 32 weeks
Themes: -

This week's theme, chosen by redfeatherraven, is I'm Not Angry.

Next week's theme is chosen by Grozomah - let me know in PM or this thread, and I'll include it in the next status.

[Grozomah]

This week i finally wrote the recap for the last four sessions of RHoD, which turned out was a considerable amount of stuff (almost 1500 words), even in a condensed writing form. I also played around with SAI some more.

Spoiler

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Krvava pot skozi elsirški dol
Kar nekaj dni je druščina tovarišev (in Felix) potovala po cesti od Brindola do Drellinovega broda. Čeprav je bila naloga za Yvienne dolgočasna – zgolj dostaviti sporočilo poveljnici straže vasi – je bilo delo pošteno in, glede na tisoč zlatnikov v žepih, kar dobro plačano. Tako je štiriglava skupinica zadnjih nekaj dni v poletni vročini hodila, oziroma jezdila, proti Drellinovem brodu in vse je kazalo, da bo pot minila brez omembe vrednih dogodkov, ko je Drood opazil premikanje v grmovju ob cesti. Zaseda!
Četverica bojevnikov, en dinozaver in kmalu tudi nemalo beštij iz globin pekla so v usklajenem tandemu naskočili nesojeno zasedo in hobgoblini in žužkedvedi so navkljub okrepitvam hitro padli pod točo rezil, krempljev in urokov, z izjemo duhovnega ki ga je udarec s topim delom Yvieninega orožja spravil v prerani sen. Pregled bližnjega območja je pokazal ruševine zgradbe v bližini, ki je hobgoblinom očitno služila kot oporišče. V njej so Yvienne, Lars in Drood našli manj srečne popotnike, ki so očitno prav tako naleteli na zasedo in kup zlatnikov, ki so od smrti goblinov naprej bili brez lastnikov. Druščina je prav tako vse mrtve in nezavestne gobline ločila od njihove lastnine in jo, skupaj z nezavestnim coprnikom, naložila na konja in naredila še zadnji del poti do Drellinovega broda.
Ob prihodu v vas sta Felix in Yvienne zašla v manjši nesporazum glede retoričnih sposobnosti določenih članov skupine, nato pa je druščina le uspela dopovedati vaščanom, da iščejo poveljnico straže in da so pripeljali ujetega coprnika, ki bi lahko kaj vedel o napadih.
Kljub večerni uri so bili popotniki takoj usmerjeni v domovanje vodje vasi, kjer sta jih že čakala župan in poveljnica straže. Tam je druščina na kratko pojasnila svoje srečanje s hobgoblini in tudi predala sporočilo, zaradi katerega je sploh prišla v Drellinov brod. Vaščani so jim v zameno pojasnili, da bližnje kraje vedno pogosteje napadajo razni goblinoidi in da so ceste zaradi tega že precej nevarne. Prosili so, da prišleki, ki so očitno precej sposobni skrbeti zase, ugotovijo, kaj se dogaja v Elsirškem dolu.
Po obveznem postanku tekom mesta, kjer so popotniki pozdravili svoje bolezni, prodali in nakupili nekaj opreme je bil čas za zaslišanje klerika. Zaradi nespametno povezanih rok iz njega ni bilo mogoče izvleči kaj dosti več kot precejšnjega fanatizma na zmajevsko boginjo Tiamat, preden si je z urokom vzel življenje. Naslednji korak je zato bil obisk pri bližnjem druidu in rangerju, ki sta nas proti Wrathovemu stolpu.
Wrathov stolp sicer ni bil daleč – le kak dan potovanja, ampak cesta do njega je vodila skozi močvirje. Kmalu je bilo opazno, da je celotno območje mrtvo – nobenega žvrgolenja ptic in običajnih zvokov gozda. Droodove oste oči so kmalu opazile razlog, ko se je blizu ceste premaknila velika kačja glava. Ko se je glava spet pojavila poleg poti je pripeljala s seboj še šest prijateljic na istem trupu in hidra se je vrgla v napad. Ker je bila druščina na hidro popolnoma nepripravljena, sploh na to hidro ki je izgledala bolj demonsko kot običajno. Popotniki so zato po hitrem postopku, ahem, izvedli taktični umik in napredovali po poti do Wrathovega stolpa.
Napad na Wraathov stolp (iz Yvienninega dnevnika)
Vstali smo zgodaj zjutraj in ponovili plan napada, ki smo ga sestavili prejšnji večer. Grad je imel dva vhoda – enega glavnega in enega, kjer se je obzidje zrušilo in je bilo dokaj lahko prehodno. Jaz bi v grad vsopila skozi porušeni del obzidja, ostali člani pa skozi glavna vrata oz. Kar je ostalo od njih. Do gradu sem prišla neopažena, v trenutku, ko sem prečkala obzidje, pa sem skozi podrto steno ene izmed zgradb v gradu zagledala ne le hobgoblinske bojevnike, ampak tudi ogromnega minotavra z orjaško sekiro v rokah. Prvega hobgoblina sem uspela porezati takoj, nato pa se je bitka za stolp začela na polno. Ker sem videla, da imam na rokah malce več kot sem pričakovala sem poklicala Drooda na pomoč, medtem ko je njegov Fluttershy skrbel za dva goblinska jezdeca na wargih, ki sta se pojavila pri čarovniškem delu skupine. Kot da minotaver sam ni bil zadosten problem, sta se naprotnikom pridružila še demonska mantikora in leteč coprnik, ki sta našo druščino zasula z bodicami in ognjem. Nekomu, ki je je doživel boje v Adrijskih gozdovih sicer to še ni bilo življenjsko nevarno, ampak nekaj članov naše skupine je pa do sedaj bilo bolj vajenih študiranja v mirnih okoliščinah in napad jih je kar pošteno zdelal. Postalo mi je jasno, da je potrebno bitko hitro zaključiti, ali pa jo ne bomo vsi preživeli.
Ker so moje letalske sposobnosti omejene sem ocenila da je najprej potrebno poskrbeti za minotavra. Če bi le ta prišel do naših pobecev v spalnih srajcah bi ti imeli precejšnje težave. Z Droodom sva se počasi premikala okoli minotavra in ga poskušala obkoljiti, ko se je ponudila priložnost. S hitrim skokom sem se izgnila njegovemu napadu, se v prevalu pognala proti steni in si v mislih zavrtela sobo. Stena je služila za odskočno desko ravno ko se je minotaver obrnil proti Droodu za surov udarec. Silo odriva sem uporabila za napad in ost moje sulice se je s strašansko silo zapičila v minotavrov nezaščiten hrbet. Udarec je prebil srce in celoten prsni koš divjega bojevnika, ki je mrtev padel na tla.
V tem času je demonska gosenica, ki jo je priklical Lars dobila oprijem na sovražnem coprniku in ga uspela onesposobiti. A ta sreča žal ni trajala dolgo, saj je naslednji napad mantikore končal življenje beštije in zadal Larsu še zadnjo rano, preden se je nezavesten zgrnil na tla. Kljub vsemu je ta napad Felixu dal dovolj časa da je na coprnika začaral urok, s katerim je prekinil njegovo letenje in čarovnik je padel na tla tik pred sobo, v kateri sva se borila z Droodom. Z mrtvim minotavrom je bila naslednja tarča jasna in v naslednjem trenutku je bila moja sulica zapičena skozi njegov trebuh. Ne vem kakšna demonska vzdržljivost ga je gnala naprej, a uspel je začarati še en urok, preden ga je dohitela smrt. Z njegovim koncem je ostal le še en nasprotnik – za ostale so poskrbeli Feliksov zlati prah, Droodove in Larsove beštije in seveda Fluttershy. A v tako enoličnem boju tudi mantikora ni zdržala prav dolgo.
Lars je bitko preživel, zahvaljujoč napoju, ki mu ga je Feliks v kaosu boja uspel administrirat. Prisežem, kakor je ta tip antipatičen je pa na trenutke izredno koristen. Skratka po boju nas je Lars vse prijazno pozdravil – in bilo je kar potrebno, saj smo bili vsi precej zdelani. Boj je ponovno uspel preživeti en goblin, za katerega pa se je izkazalo da ne ve prav dosti o načrtih njegovih poglavarjev. Zato pa je bil toliko bolj vreden natančen pregled gradu in stolpa. Poleg kopice magičnih in nemagičnih predmetov smo našli tudi načrt napada goblinoidov na Elsirsko dolno. Odločili smo se, da je to zares pomembna informacija in da jo je potrebno čim prej dostaviti ostalim. Kar pa je seveda pomenilo ponovno pot skozi močvaro in mimo hidre. Ker je bil že večer smo se odločili, da se bomo tokrat pripravili na hidro in jo pošteno premagali. Felixu sem razložila, da je, čeprav drugače izredno mogočna in nevarna beštija, konec koncev le žival in da je šibka na coprnije, ki slabijo um.
Moj nasvet si je vzel k srcu in ko smo se naslednje jutro srečali z hidro je bil pripravljen, čeprav z malo tresočo roko. No, pa saj tega mu ne morem zameriti. Priznam da sem, ko sem tudi sama videla sedem glav, napolnjene z vrstami kot britve ostrimi zobmi, bila nemalo živčna. Načrt je bil seveda dober, a še tako dober načrt se lahko sfiži. No, ampak kar je Felix izgubil na kvaliteti je več kot nadoknadil v kvantiteti in v nekaj sekundah se je množica urokov vsula na hidro. Nekaj jih je zgrešilo, nekaj se jih je neškodljivo odbilo, nekaj pa jih je zadelo in hidra je nezavestna telebnila v močvaro. To je bil trenutek, ki sem ga čakala. Previdno sem se spravila v vodo, poiskala razdelek med dvemi hidrinimi rebri, ki je ležal blizu srca in počasi in natančno v hido zapičila celotno sulico, do konca ročaja. Tako huda rana se je izkazala prevelika tudi za hidrine mogočne regenerativne sposobnosti in njena kri je začela v potočku teči v kalno močvirno vodo.
Ko je enkrat neposredna nevarnost minila in se je bilo mogoče razgledati po terenu, sem na bližnjem otočku opazila ostanke manj srečnih popotnikov pred nami. Večina njih in njihove opreme je bila zgrizenih do neprepoznavnosti, en prsni oklep iz čistega mithrila pa je bil kar lepo ohranjen, čeprav malo bolj zdrgnjen kot moj.
V vsakem primeru pa sedaj hitro v vas predat sporočilo in po mojo novo sulico.

For next week's theme I choose: The Grip of Winter. Have fun with it. :P

[HellfireLover]

I have played with ArtRage this week. I am not very good with ArtRage (modesty prevents me appending 'yet' to this statement.)

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http://fav.me/d75swl1
http://fav.me/d75svtf
http://fav.me/d75su3r
http://fav.me/d75svas (might finish this off properly sometime, atm it's just a sketch)

[Rysc]

What I somehow managed to get done this week:

Spoiler: What!? Of course I'm not angry!

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...and I'm definitely not about to throw a knife at you. Of course not. Whatever made you think of that?

Spoiler: ...okay, now I'm angry.

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Different people, though. Again, counting as 2.

Spoiler: 300 words of yet another character summary AKA my word counts are pretty pathetic

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Though she stands at only 5', Hinoiri makes up for her small size with her strangely watchful gaze. She has tanned skin and shortish black hair usually pried back into a stub of a ponytail.

Hinoiri is the quintessential wallflower. More silent, wary, and occasionally sardonic than just simply quiet, she enjoys the benefits her near-invisible status gives her as she can people-watch without much notice. This habit has led to her being sometimes hard set in her first misconceptions about others. Though she can converse if absolutely necessary, she'll often freeze up if you put her on the spot. As a young child, Hinoiri was blissfully unaware of the troubles coursing through her home. That is, until the day she came home from school, and her home was filled with police. There was blood staining the couch and the living room rug. And her parents... "...deliberate...suicide...murder..." Hinoiri was to go live with her aunt. Confused, empty, and alone, Hinoiri took to herself, wondering why? why do these things happen?

As she grew older, she oftentimes took to roaming the streets and parks, scribbling words and colors and observations into her notebooks, watching the people laughing and chattering away, and wondering if they were hiding problems, too.

On one of these occasions, Hinoiri came across a cat in an alleyway near her home, with a coat grey as smoke and eyes jade green. Though there were many strays in the neighborhoods, she felt particularly lonely that day, and offered him some of her food. The cat accepted, and since that day the two have been haunting the streets together, with the girl regularly bringing the cat morsels of food or pretty bits of objects. At times, though, Hinoiri feels that Kumori is more than just a simple cat...

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Well once I tried to leave but it didn’t quite work out so I had to secretly pack my notebooks in a backpack and sneak away when everyone was distracted by the blaring colors they didn’t even notice I had disappeared like a ghost but I didn’t know where to go or what I was doing so I followed the starry trail into the night and found a small old stone house that was falling apart into millions of pieces so I decided to make it my castle. After I had cleaned up the disintegrating leaves and tried to put the stones back in their proper places I laid out all my books in rows but I had forgotten to bring my pencils so I had to return to the city and it took me all of a day to reach it. I wandered up and down the dim dark dusty streets looking for a place that sold writing tools but they don’t believe in pencils anymore only in cold electronic screens and they have lost much. Finally I reached the end of an alley and there was a tiny store and the lady running it was rather young and she had trays and trays of pencils and pens and nibs and notebooks and paper so I guess there is hope for them. I bought six pencils and a pen for a dollar a story and a song, and also a book because there was so much of the tale to tell that I needed a fresh expanse of white. And I thanked her and she smiled and we shared a moment as lovers of analog of pen and paper and dreams and then I left and headed back to the house the stars slowly faded on and there were my books and I was home. I dipped my pen in the deep indigo ink of the night and began to dream on a page…

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[redfeatherraven]

The writing only seemed to flow this week too little too late, so the question is...if I sneak it in before Mouse gets here, does it still count?

Eh, if not, I won't be heartbroken. Progress is progress.

First, a bit of a side-project. Set up a twitter from the eponymous Infinite Notebook, hoping that small snippets of information might be simpler to come up with in a timely fashion. So far, it hasn't been. Time will tell. Volume won't though - got a whopping 131 words out of the deal, all on the 8th.

https://twitter.com/storyteller_red

I also did the picture used for its account, though whether or not it classifies as a worthy piece is debatable, as it's a photomanip assembled from several different stock pictures. I'll leave its construction below.

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Component images:


Completed composite:

Last but not least is a short story set in the world, centering on Winston and a probably incidental character and taking place just prior to the game's main events. It's still in progress - as soon as I'm finished writing this up, in fact, I'll be returning to it, and I'll get the completed piece here for your perusal once it's complete. But for now, it's reached 1657 words.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B0f...it?usp=sharing

[Glass Mouse]

Le status est arrive!


Glass Mouse passes with a comic page and 800 stories of sci-fi story, including a scene about anger control.

Lycunadari passes with six city photos.

TheWombatOfDoom passes with 1,419 words of Empire roleplay and 268 words of random banter roleplay.

Neoriceisgood passes with 8 double-sized comic pages.

HeadlessMermaid didn't upload/send me anything.

redfeatherraven passes with 131 words of twitter, one photo manipulation, and 1,657 words of short story.

Grozomah passes with ~1,500 words of writing, and raaaaainbows.

Rysc pases with a not-angry guy, an actually angry guy comic, 300 words of character background, 329 words of notebook ramblings, and a shadows drawing.

ArkenBrony is out due to disappearance.

Moriwen passes with 1,500 words of writings, including a refutation of anger.

D.KnightSpider passes with 1,157 words of stream of consciousness, and a guy with anger issues plus his poor victim.

HellFireLover uploaded a lucky cat, a fancy-coloured face, an avvi and a selfie.



Thus, HeadlessMermaid and HellFireLover FAIL this round!

Glass Mouse, Lycunadari, TheWombatofDoom, Neoriceisgood, redfeatherraven, Grozomah, Rysc, Moriwen and D.KnightSpider PASS this round!


Current standing:

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Glass Mouse
Current run: 172 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: 1 week

Lycunadari
Current run: 58 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: -

TheWombatOfDoom
Current run: 27 weeks
Longest run: 3 weeks
Themes: -

Neoriceisgood
Current run: 20 weeks
Longest run: 32 weeks
Themes: -

HeadlessMermaid
Current run: -
Longest run: 11 weeks
Themes: -

redfeatherraven
Current run: 1 week
Longest run: 4 weeks
Themes: -

Grozomah
Current run: 2 week
Longest run: 4 weeks
Themes: -

Rysc
Current run: 8 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: 1 week

Moriwen
Current run: 3 weeks
Longest run: -
Themes: 3 weeks

D.KnightSpider
Current run: 2 weeks
Longest run: 32 weeks
Themes: 1 week

This week's theme, chosen by Grozomah, is The Grip of Winter.

Next week's theme is chosen by Rysc - let me know in PM or this thread, and I'll include it in the next status.

The writing only seemed to flow this week too little too late, so the question is...if I sneak it in before Mouse gets here, does it still count?

Engh. Technically no, since (as I keep saying) your actual deadlines are Sunday midnight. But for all intents and purposes, yes, I count things that come up between the deadline and the status posts. Mostly because I don't want the hassle of double-checking time zones and everything.
I'll count this per standard, but be aware that if I ever get a day where life lets me off early, you are in trouble

[TheWombatOfDoom]

I just realized I've got a streak of half a year going! I know compared to Glass' 3 years it is not much, but I'm still pretty excited!

[Iruka]

Since I'm currently trying to improve my drawing and painting skills, joining the CHALLENGE might be helpful for me. However I'm still at a fairly basic level, so I wanted to ask first if a page of sketches like the following would be enough to count as a 'creative work'.

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[Glass Mouse]

I just realized I've got a streak of half a year going! I know compared to Glass' 3 years it is not much, but I'm still pretty excited!

Oh hey, that's right. That's definitely worth a big shoulder pat! Grats on your first half year

Since I'm currently trying to improve my drawing and painting skills, joining the CHALLENGE might be helpful for me. However I'm still at a fairly basic level, so I wanted to ask first if a page of sketches like the following would be enough to count as a 'creative work'.

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Doodles are generally not allowed since we want people to push themselves, and most artists can churn out doodles in no time. If, however, "doodle" quality is where your skills are currently at, there is no problem.

So, welcome!

[Iruka]

Doodles are generally not allowed since we want people to push themselves, and most artists can churn out doodles in no time. If, however, "doodle" quality is where your skills are currently at, there is no problem.

So, welcome!

Well, I can do more complicated stuff when I'm copying from a photo or something, but I'm currently practicing to put 3D-objects on paper with correct perspective and all, which still takes quite a while.

[Rysc]

Well, not remotely theme related, as I've been shoveling far too much snow lately to want to draw it, but here's my submission for this week.

Spoiler: 1,730 words of more character background

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Solanin "Sol" Tyelion

The first thing you notice about this thin, angular woman, with her loosely pulled-back hair and weather-beaten clothing, is her intricately fashioned silver brooch in the shape of a dragon, with a gem in place of its eye. The next is that she's slightly unnerving. Perhaps it's because of her mismatched eyes--the left blue and the right brown--and distant gaze. Or perhaps it's something else entirely, something beyond her...

Though nominally serious, Solanin is only slightly less conversational-- but rather more inquisitive, especially if the subject in question is related to metalworking--than the average young woman. At times, however, she can seem detached due to the Voice calling her, and often struggles with doubts because of this. She's determined to prove that she's not like her monstrous mother, and, while not exactly outgoing, generally tries to be friendly or at least helpful to others. She's quite interested in the way complex devices work, and has spent some time exploring old ruins, trying to reverse-engineer the various apparati that seem to be common there.

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In times long past, the minor Noble House of Tyelion was renowned--renowned in the sense, however, that it was completely unremarkable. Its elves dutifully rose up and trained and fought, but never accomplished anything particularly noteworthy. As time wore on, perhaps even its own members became tired of this repetition, and one of them turned to the craft of the smith. This marked the start of another, different, period of renown for House Tyelion--that of a House famous for its fine metalwork, in particular the work of its silversmiths. Over the years, its smiths became more and more zealous in their art, and less and less concerned with the affairs of the Heartlands, so much so that many moved to the mountain cities of the Stonewardens, in an attempt to learn more from the Dwarves and their cunning with stone and metal.

This was to be their downfall. For, living so close to that which was beyond, the House became discontent. Taking advantage of those friendships and connections they had formed, a number of Tyelions tried to force their way outside of the mountains. The Stonewardens, however, did their duty all to well. House Tyelion, already quite small, was decimated; a few members only surviving because they had never moved to the mountains in the first place. This remainder soon left the elven realms, whether of exile imposed by the Council or by their own pride, to scatter among the other cities of the Heartlands, with many abandoning what they saw as the destruction of their House--metalworking--in an effort to distance themselves as far from it as possible. Their efforts succeeded, and soon House Tyelion was lost in the waves of time. To most, that is. One elf continued in her path as a silversmith, passing her knowledge both of the craft and of the House down to her descendants. The latest in this long line is currently living in one of the larger Human settlements, Wayfeld, plying his trade as a silversmith, and listening to the tales of various wanderers of the Heartlands...

* * *

Ethas Tyelion carefully returned his saw back into its leather pouch and placed it alongside his sets of tools. The shapes and sheets of silver were stacked on his workbench, ready for him to return the next day. Rising and turning, he saw that Arin was still bent over her work, meticulously linking together tiny metal rings for some noblewomans' necklace. He was about quip about her devotion to it when a wail rent the air. Probably another human child, scared by some shadows or roughed up a bit from falling. Just yesterday a little boy had come screaming that there was a monster nearby. But one never knows...

Sighing, he headed to the door and pulled it open--and there, bizarrely enough, was a baby, wrapped in some dirty cloths and now letting out a cry almost as punctually as a clock. It was strangely gaunt--not from hunger, as it seemed lively enough--and stranger still was its mismatched eyes--one blue as a gem and the other a dark brown, now gazing into his own as he lifted up the child. There was no one visible in the gently falling dusk, when usually the children where rushing home to their parents. Strange. Sighing again, he looked at the baby in his arms. "Poor child...without a name or a family. Or a past. Almost like ourselves, you see. But at least we can give you a name." Arin was probably too absorbed in her work to scold him for talking to himself. But she would be quite interested by this...

* * *

Solanin grew up a normal child. Well, as normal as a child dropped off on the doorstep of an elven couple living in a mostly human settlement could be. Her parents made no secret of the circumstances of her arrival, but Solanin, for the most part, was perfectly happy with her adopted family, constantly romping about with the neighboring children. Assuming, at first, that her odd eyes were simply an oddity of nature, she considered herself mostly human. Or elven, as her parents noted, because of her slightly pointed ears. But all that didn't matter, just yet anyway.

From the time that she could walk, Sol showed an odd propensity towards her parents' trades, fascinated by the chains and jewels and cuffs her mother fashioned, and the silver works of her father. As she grew older, she learned all that should could from them, and spent much of her remaining free time visiting the smithy in a nearby section of the town. For metal held a wondrous mystery for her; it could be fashioned into designs intricate beyond the imagination and blades keener than a dragon's fang and colder than the ice of the mountains, and yet serve in simple yet extremely useful roles as the humble cooking-pot or hammer. And there was still so much more...

And so Sol lived a relatively carefree and curious life--until the year she turned thirteen. It was subtle at first. At times, especially when she lay awake in bed, trying to figure out how thin she could hammer a sheet of silver, the Voice tugged at her. It was only her tired mind, she told herself, and tried hard to ignore it. But it grew gradually stronger, whispering and entreating and calling her to go and come into her own, to discover her heritage and the power that awaited her. Again and again she told it, NO! I am myself. This is my family, and my home. Sol began noticing small mishaps, that maybe they had always happened before, but she was just becoming aware of them now: small filings shifting and spilling off the workbench, strange noises when no one was around, breezes blowing her notes and patterns away--when she was in the dead calm of her room. And she realized that perhaps she was not quite as human or elven as she had thought...

She began travelling with her parents to famous libraries and temples, in the hopes of finding a "cure." What they found instead was an old loremaster, who upon hearing of Sol's plight--and seeing her mismatched eyes and gaunt frame--shook his head and pronounced a diagnosis. Sol was a changeling, a half-hag. Her world came crashing down. She was part monster, a horror. She wanted to scream and rage against the world, her previously carefree life, the Voice, that cause of all her troubles. Even now it was laughing at her, and calling, calling, calling, laughing. It was the laughing that drove her over. She might have accepted it, run away from the society that she was sure would hate her. But the laughing. She would NOT. She would prove the Voice wrong. Her saddened yet loving parents reassuring her, Sol returned home to Wayfeld.

Though with the years she moved past the initial trauma, the Voice was still there. While not as strong as before, it surfaced particularly during times of doubt, always urging her--or was it mocking her? Sol tried her best to keep on with whatever she was doing, determined to make her own fate. She became even more focused on the trades of metal, learning with zealousness what little left her parents could teach her, drawn perhaps out of desperation, perhaps out of her own will more than ever to its allure. Soon she left home, with the blessing of her parents, and began journeying to places renowned for their metalwork--be it blades or armor or chalices or automatons. Her wanderings soon took her back to the old loremaster Alcarin, and after some conversation, he suggested she examine some ancient ruins in the western Heartlands--rumors told that many marvelous devices, ages old and yet able to smoothly run like new, could be found there. And rumors like these, the old loremaster knew, more than often had a grain of truth to them.

And so Sol set out on the latest stage of her life. Traveling across the wide lands, she met many strange and remarkable characters, many of whom for the most part were not as entranced by metal as she or the others she had previously met were. She again took up the guise of her childhood, telling any who asked that she was a half-elf--which could quite possibly be true, after all. Someday she would try to find who her biological father had been. Perhaps someday, but not now. The ruins were quite intriguing, and the rumors did hold more than a bit of truth: unfortunately, however, the marvelous and perfectly-working devices had turned out to be deadly traps, and while intriguing, were a bit beyond her. For now. If she ever wanted to reach that level of knowledge, she'd have to stay alive, and the ruins were not exactly helpful in ensuring this. With the Voice laughing in her head, she hastily retreated. She' come back, someday.

Sol is currently heading to Ragnarok's Den, on the account that the largest city in the Heartlands must contain some fine metal-workers or smiths. And, having never been there before, she's also very intrigued by the city itself...

And next week's theme shall be Armor--whether it be of the emotional, plot, or good old-fashioned plate kind.

[D.KnightSpider]

I'm actually pleased enough with my theme piece for this week to cross-post it. Link

And I'm going to make sure that I've enough pieces this week by cross-posting some RP posts.

Word Count: 430

Word Count: 555

Word Count: 306

[Iruka]

Am I already too late? Not sure which time zone counts ...

An avatar I made:

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practice work: a congregation of gloves

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practice work: landscape

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drawing practice:

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Sorry for the poor quality of the potos, I don't have a scanner available at the moment.

[redfeatherraven]

If I manage to disappoint anyone by saying I do not, at this time, have the conclusion to the travels of Winston and Jocane, I will be incredibly surprised. But I don't. Yet. And there's liable to be a little rewriting, since I'm displeased with the pacing right near the end, there.

Enough of the old, in with the new. Got a little more IN writing this week. Even got a little on topic.

First, a partial history of the settlers of the cold, cold north (750 words):

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B0f...it?usp=sharing

And second, a little bit more about Noah and how he whoops ass - ironically, more suited in some ways to next week's theme (896 words):

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B0f...it?usp=sharing

Getting a great big heap of documents to finish off, here. I'd like to come up with some more equipment bits (mostly so I can begin to work on drawing these characters, finally), but I should be doing some part twos this week as well.

[Grozomah]

Meh, I got swamped with work and other stuff and managed to miss my first theme. :/
The only thing i managed to do creatively is design a new logo for the second batch of my beer (which i bottled yesterday, does that count as creative? )