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Weekly Contest #300
A Ceramics Factory Jaqueline Kelly had been a "masked adventurer" for fifteen years— since her grandfather passed on an old necklace. It was threaded with some kind of silk, with glass beads and a copper centerpiece depicting a spider carrying a small clay wad. When her grandmother realized Jack had the necklace, long after Grandpa Kelly had passed on himself, Nana Kelly explained the significance with curt clarity: "You remember the stories about the spider I told you when you were young?" "Of course. What does that have to do with the neck...
Weekly Contest #299
The door split open with a crack. Old wood splintered into three or four great pieces as the ogre of a man on the other side dropped his maul into it; the sound of an old tree snapping with the wind and lightning of a storm. As they crossed the threshold they revealed themselves. They were a company of three: The Warrior, who had been younger once but was now scarred and worn. His armor rattled like a catacomb as he walked. What hair of his remained was brown with scattered grey streaks. The Wanderer, who was still young and graceful. She wa...
Weekly Contest #298
At twelve my father had offered me to a nearby abbey. The monks there worshipped a dragon they called Lumikal; warriors of the faith trained in isolation for years before being unleashed onto the world as sanctified bounty hunters. Seekers of vengeance. To give what little credit can be given to my father, my siblings got to stay home working the farm with the coin he made from my sale to the lumikalites. Who would I have been to deny my siblings a life of peace? Armored conditioning, weapon mastery, horsemanship, repair and upkeep of arms, ...
Weekly Contest #277
We each held blunted longswords and wore everything but our war plates— those were being cleaned. Quintus pressed into my space with his blade presented, tip towards my chest; I felt the mud press up around my boots as I retreated with my blade in a high guard, tip towards his knees. His father growled in the church-tongue from somewhere to my right, behind the fence that had been erected for the sparring pit. I did not speak the church-tongue. They knew I did not speak it. Quintus jerked forward as my back came against the fence. I sl...
Weekly Contest #149
Before I opened my eyes, before I could have registered the sky above me, I felt the grass against my hands poking me from below and decided that I was on the ground. Opening my eyes confirmed as much. White and blue passed over slowly, cut by nearby rooftops. I grabbed at the same grass and used it for just the slightest bit more leverage to right myself, wiping sleep from my eyes with the inside of my shoulder in the same movement. A second push, with my legs, and I was standing. I looked down to my watch, and found time creeping i...
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