Aasharu
Registered user
Global user
Registered: 12-2007
Location: Here.
Posts: 30
Karma: 1 (+1/-0)
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Aasharu's Writing Table
I'm in the process of writing a book, and as I progress, I'll post parts of it here. However, I haven't gotten to the point where I'm actually writing the book. So, until then, I'll post some of my short stories. Like this one! Tell me what you think.
***********************************************************************
There were three adventurers. Mical was a brave knight, always willing to dash off to save the day. Shiara was a stealthy rogue, and she was always willing to scout ahead for danger. Ka’tel was the group wizard, well schooled in the mysteries of the arcane. The three of them were on a quest, to find a powerful artifact, hidden in an ancient, monster-infested tower in the Cloudpeak Mountains. They had trekked for five perilous days, and soon, would arrive at the tower. Called the tower of doom by the local peasants, it was rumored that no one had ever come out alive.
It was a dark and stormy night when the adventurers finally found the tower. As they reached the top of the mesa on which the tower stood, they saw the sinister black redoubt looming over them. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, illuminating the fortress of evil with sinister light. Broken windows seemed to glare down on them like malevolent eyes, and…
“All right, wait just one minute,” yelled Ka’tel, bringing his two companions to a halt. “What the hell are we doing here, anyways? It’s obvious that we’re going to be killed off.”
“Whatever do you mean, wizard?” Mical looked at the wizard curiously, wondering what had gotten into him.
“No, wait, he’s right. I mean, just look at that description three paragraphs ago,” said Shiara, point up the page. “The writer described the tower in far too much loving detail. Something is obviously up.”
“Exactly,” replied Ka’tel, nodding sagaciously. “I mean, it’s called the tower of DOOM, for magic’s sake! That alone is an immediate tip off.”
“Hey, do you mind? I’m trying to write a story here,” said the writer, perturbed.
“I probably wouldn’t mind so much, if it wasn’t obvious that you were going to kill us off,” shouted Ka’tel indignantly. “I mean, come on! ‘It was a dark and stormy night?’ How clichéd can you get?”
“What? I’ve always wanted to say, ‘It was a dark and stormy night,’” the writer said defensively.
“Well, for one thing, it’s…” Ka’tel was suddenly cut off, as a particularly strong gust of wind blew gallons of freezing rain right in his face. Sputtering indignantly, he yelled, “and could you PLEASE turn this damn rain OFF!”
“Oh, sorry,” said the writer reflexively as the rain suddenly stopped. “Hey, wait just a minute,” he said angrily as it suddenly started raining again. “I’m the one writing the story, so I get to dictate what happens here!”
“Well, what happens if my friends and I decide to turn around and go home, huh? What then?” With that, Ka’tel turned and said, “Mical, Shiara, let’s go, alright?”
“Why would we want to do that,” the other two asked curiously?
“Why? WHY? Weren’t you just paying attention to that conversation I just had?” Ka’tel couldn’t believe they hadn’t figured it out yet.
“What conversation,” asked Shiara innocently?
Ka’tel gaped at them for a moment, then turned to the sky and asked, “What did you just do?”
“I told you, I control the story,” said the writer smugly. “What you guys know is entirely up to me. Since this is all out of the main story, I made sure that they won’t know anything about what we’re saying.”
By the end of this explanation, Ka’tel had assumed a very disgruntled expression. Glaring upwards, he asked, “If you’re so all-powerful, then why haven’t you messed with my head?”
“I’m trying,” snarled the writer, frustrated. “But for some reason, I just can’t change you directly.”
“Ah hah,” exclaimed Ka’tel triumphantly, “so you aren’t as powerful as you thought!”
“Is that so,” said the writer irritably. “Then I guess that large dragon flying up behind you is just a fragment of your imagination.”
“What large dragon… oh,” said Ka’tel as he turned around and saw the dragon looming up behind him. His face flat with malice, he looked up and said, “I hate you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know,” said the writer sweetly.
“Wait a minute,” said Ka’tel suddenly. “Wait just one minute. You have to write out what happens, right?”
“Right…” replied the writer, confused.
“And if you’re busy talking to me, you aren’t writing about the dragon attacking me, right?”
“Right, which is why, if you would stop TALKING…” said the writer pugnaciously.
“Hold up a minute. Since you can’t control what I do directly, what happens if I start writing faster then you?” As he asked this, Ka’tel began writing in his special, waterproof book.
“Hey, wait, how did you get…?” The writer was suddenly cut off, as he was suddenly transported to the story world. The dragon glared at him hungrily…
“Well, two can play this game,” said the writer, as he began typing furiously on his computer. He suddenly vanished from the story, as the dragon suddenly looked at Ka’tel…
“Oh, no you don’t,” said Ka’tel as the dragon was hit by a freak lightning bolt, frying it to a crisp. He looked up at the writer and said, "So who's the powerful one now, huh?"
"Me," replied the writer as he typed in, 'Then a rock fell and crushed everything.'
Then a rock fell and crushed everything.
“Finally,” sighed the writer as he slumped down in his desk. “I really have to be careful not to allow that to happen again.” He stretched, and some water dripped onto his shirt. “And I got all wet,” he exclaimed, annoyed. “Screw this; I’m going to go take a shower.” And with that, the writer typed this last sentence, saved, and walked off in disgust.
© Xerxes Okray 2007
Last edited by Aasharu, 1/5/2008, 4:10 am
|
