Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Aaarrrgh 03-06-08, 02:46 PM	I really enjoyed the previous challenges, and decided it was time to create some official rules. But first, links to the old challenges (great for inspiration!): Terjon's challenge and Vega's challenge. There, now let's get started with the rules: Each challenge will give some information, from which the competitors take the inspiration for creating their characters. What this inspiration is varies between challenges. All submissions must be original. You may take inspiration from any source you want, but if you're describing Spiderman, you're not going to win. Your characters will be judged by the following criteria: Originality, personality, background, story potential and how close it follows the instructions. The winner of each challenge gets to create, and judge, the next challenge. It is allowed to create more than one character for each challenge. This is, after all, about creativity. These rules are of course not perfect, and will be a work in progress. Feel free to yell at me if you think I should change or add anything. And now, the challenge: As you enter the room, the first thing that hits you is how tidy it is. This might be because there are very few things in the room that could make it untidy. The room is small, and only has a few pieces of furniture: a bed, a desk, and a chair. The bed is neatly made, with well-folded white sheets. On the wall above it hangs a painting of a human woman in heavy armour, sitting on a huge dark brown horse. The desk stands right next to the bed, since it would be impossible to make it fit anywhere else without blocking the door. There are some papers on it, in nice, even stacks. There is also a quill, a small bottle of blue ink, and a short sword in an ornamented scabbard. While the sword might look like nothing but a decoration, it is placed in such a way that it is easily reachable as soon as you get out of bed. You try pulling it, and notice that it makes almost no resistance as you pull it free. It is well made, and it has been kept sharp by someone who knows the value of a weapon. Suddenly you hear a voice behind you: "What are you doing in my room?" You turn around, and stand face to face with... Here, the challenge begins. Who is the person living in this room? I wish you luck in your quest! ReaderOfPosts suggests an exorcist, freeing a ghost from its ancient prison. Terjon created a training school for changeling psions. Terjon also created a paladin, caught in the act of betraying her faith. Master_Vega gives us the returning noble, who finds his home taken over by a traitor. elliot20 brings a young soldier, despised by everyone except the ruling lady. SaintOfSevens created a scary demon/spirit/bodysnatcher/thing. Alexduardo suggests an intelligent, speaking picture. Jacob_Crowe gives us a rogue, who has some family trouble.
Nox_Noctis 03-06-08, 03:24 PM	Edit and go to "Advanced."
ReaderOfPosts 03-06-08, 07:06 PM	The Distracted Scholar "What are you doing in my room?" I turned around, standing face to face with the accuser. Slightly over six feet tall, he wore a dusty brown tunic with a short leather cloak that extended to his knees. Ink stained his hands, hands that carried a loose stack of papers. He seemed to blend into the hallway behind him, it took me a few blinks to notice his most apparent feature. “By the beard of St. Silvine...” The figure seemed to forget that I was an intruder immediately. "A theologist? Are you a scholar of sacred texts?" "One could call me that. I'm more a student of the practical applications of the Scriptua Faentina" "Well met!" the figure replied, splaying the papers across his desk, comparing a sketch to the sword. Almost immediately he seemed to forget about me. I edged towards him, glancing at the stack of papers. They were written in elven, never my best language. They appeared to be a treatise describing the geography and local culture of some place-- I quickly ignored it. I was far more interested in the figure in front of me. "What are you studying?" I asked the figure, hoping to elicit a further reaction. "Ah... this is the account of the Elven Bard Thealini Nailo when he traveled through the Damari empire nearly 1300 years ago. Right here he's talking about their rituals of ancestor worship" He thumbed another page. "It's interesting... he says he expresses revulsion at the practice, but the wording here implies he's revolted at the ancestors rather than the tradition of worshipping them..." he thumbs through the stack of papers. "But here it is again... look! A sketch of a blade with the same worksmanship as my shortsword, with the inscription "Gladius Nekagrani". Again! But it doesn't explain it at all..." He faded out again, forgetting me again. I paused to inspect the sword again, more closely this time. There were inscriptions on it that I recognized as being Damari characters, incomprehensible to me. An etched scene of a man walking out of a mausoleum covered the handle. I ran my hand across the blade, feeling it's oil rub off onto my finger. I stroked it again, the blade no less smooth. Magic, I guessed. "Here he refers to the dead as trapped, stuck in a half-world" he muttered. "Here it says The dead were buried along with the blade, whose magic I can only presume was the cause of the spirits. What spirits... the ancestors? How could the blades cause the spirits? This is quite confusing. I don't understand a bit of it." I understood immediately. I thrust the slender blade into the crumbling mortar of the wall, the scholar turning on me in horror. I pulled down hard on the hilt, listening to its ancient steel as it began to snap. The Scriptua Fantina was penned by St. Daelbert the exorcist: he wrote extensively of the talismans involved in ancient necromancy. The blade snapped: the ghost faded.
Aaarrrgh 03-13-08, 10:23 AM	I was hoping for a little more than one entry... I will keep the competition open for exactly one (1) more week, counted from the moment I post this message. Don't be afraid to try it!
Master_Vega 03-13-08, 11:38 AM	Sorry. I've just been really busy lately. I'll be sure to write an entry before next thursday (I should be able to on Tuesday after I finish my paper.)
Terjon of the Blue Rose 03-14-08, 12:21 AM	Heeee's Baaaack! It's Terjon's turn. You turn around, and stand face to face with... yourself. No, not yourself. A changeling, then. And one with sharp eyes at that. The only way he could have taken your face before you spun was if he caught a glimpse of it in the reflection on the blade. "I ask again. What are you doing in my room?" the creature wearing your face asks. You must admit, it is unnerving to be asked that by someone wearing your face. Still you fumble out an aswer. "I had heard a powerful wizard could be found here. One who specializes in magics of the mind. Clearly I was mistaken, this is no wizard's laboratory." The changelings face slips from your own to an impassive mask of nuetrality, lacking any features that might give away his thoughts. He takes a crystal from under his robes and it glows a faint purple. As you force your gaze from the crystal you see that the room has transformed. What was once a pristine, and nearly empty, closet of a room has transformed itself. Beakers bubble throughout a massive, windowless chamber. Electricity arcs from copper rods and into vats of unknowable mixtures. "I prefer to keep my laboratory hidden and so the entryway clouds the minds of men, Preventing them from looking past the illusion which protects my sanctum. As for mind-magic, there are many of my kind with a gift for that force. A latent talent left over from distant ancestors." The hand which does not hold his cystal is held forth, palm up, and you suddenly realize that you still hold his blade. Knowing full well the futility of attacking a fully prepared mage you hand the sword over. Next you pass him the scabbard, still hanging from the chair which sits in the middle of a (now) otherwise empty foyer. The changelings face holds to its mask of impassivity, but he gestures for you to walk with him through his lab. "I try to keep this place a secret. It takes a very determined man to find that which I would hide. Tell me what need was so great that you would seek me out in my own home. And how did you find me in the first place." You walk the seemingly endless halls discussing with him how you had been hired to find him, and that if he was good at hiding, your specialty was finding the hidden. You had been paid to find him, and paid well, but you manage to hide the fact that you were supposed to kill him once you had. He presses you for information about those who hired you but you get a clear impression that he already knows that, as though at this point the conversation was a simple stalling tactic. If true you will certainly be forced to fight him, though, and that is a last resort at this point. Suddenly your vision focuses past the mage and his glowing crystal. You realize you are standing outside the home of your employer. You sweep up your cloak, grabbing for the dagger which weighs down its trailing edge... and fall over dead. The last sight you see is the changeling's face, again mimicing your own. Sitting quitely in his room a changeling reaches out with the power of his mind. The illusion of a great mage's laboratory sweeps away, replaced first with a simple, yet large complex. A half a dozen blank faced changelings regard the master who had turned away his assassin with such ease. Soon after, though, the changeling again hides his training grounds. The simple room which outsider's are allowed to see is more than enough for him, as he reaches out with his mind, guiding his students. He pauses, this time, at each to remark on their techniques in hiding themselves with the illusion of the laboratory. He smiles and thinks to himself on how clever it had been to kill that thief who had tryed to extort him. The thief had claimed status that would see him avenged if any harm was done too him, playing right into the teacher's needs. Since killing him the assassins had come almost twice a week and had provided no end of traning material for his students.
Terjon of the Blue Rose 03-16-08, 12:53 AM	You turn around, and stand face to face with... the woman from the picture. She stands almost a half a foot taller than you yourself do, and you are not a short man. Her earth toned plate mail is worn at its edges and shows signs of lengthy use but has clearly been cared for as well. Indeed it seems only a lack of use that leaves the short sword in such a pristine condition by comparison, further evidenced by wear which shows on the maul slung over her back. It seems strange for her to carry that maul when she has such a fine weapon as the sword, but she is Geb-blessed. While it goes unseen in the picture from this close you can clearly see the pebbled skin and jade eyes of a genesai, explaining that strange choice and almost any other eccentricity as well. The Lady Hahpet is one of Horus-Re greatest champions, a paladin seemingly chosen by Horus-Re himself and certainly blessed by Geb. It is in no way your place to question her. Still you must. "Forgiveness, Het. I mean, Lady Hahpet. I came to inform you you that the high priest wishes to speak with you. It seems there is some discrepancy in your reports on recent battles with the minnions of Set." Realizing you have spoken too far you quickly change the subject. "I must ask Lady, why is your room so empty? It seems almost as though you were preparing to leave us but I have not heard any such thing and surely that would be the talk of all. I see only the blade that marks you as one of Horus-Re's champions and the painting I gifted you with almost a year ago after you saved my life during the temple raid." Trying to focus and choose your words carefully you almost miss the gauntlet flying up at your face. At the last moments you catch sight of the steel, but too late to throw up any kind of defense. Crumbling to the ground you nearly fade but then you here words that snap you back to conciousness. The Lady Haphet, you're friend Het, is chanting a prayer. A prayer to Set, The Defiler. You try to scream, to call out for help, to beg Het to retract those words or at least explain. Nothing comes out and you realize that her first and only strike crushed your throat. You are not breathing and her chant is one that will stop the priests of the temple from learning anything from you after your death. The world is fading by the time the chant finishes. Your eyes are open only because you can not shut them. You see the woman you befriended years ago, one who has saved your life and who you believed in above all others, unshouldering her maul as though it were the heaviest burden she had ever carried. She turns from the room and walks from your sight. Before disapearing she turns to you. "I am sorry my friend. Today I leave the temple forever, one way or the other."
Terjon of the Blue Rose 03-16-08, 02:51 AM	By the way, I have a few suggestions to add to your rules. First I would suggest that entrants (or even just viewers) are well within their rights to request the right to create the next challenge. It will be up to the winner of the current challenge if they will pass on that honor. To be fair general manners will dictate that those of us who have already created a challenge (currently myself, M_V, and painful death sound [or was that pirate yell]) will pass on the chance. Those who wish to request their's be the next challenge should PM the winner within 48 hours of anouncement. If multiple request are made it will be up to the victor to choose one. Remembering M_V's dillema with Lady_Lindis's response we should allow the challenger the option to declare victory through popular vote (say a one week period.) if they do not desire to choose the victor themselves for any reason. Poster's will be considered to have voted for themselves unless they provide an new vote stating otherwise. One vote a piece. Given M_V's challenge I would put in a point that the author of each challenge should be able to declare (in the OP of their challenge) if they wish to include closeness to original concept in the scoring points. Lastly, it is not explicetly stated but no challenger should be allowed to post responses to their own challenge.
Master_Vega 03-17-08, 12:51 AM	"Your room?" you ask mockingly, disgusted that the man standing behind you would dare refer to this as his room... but he does not recognize you yet. You can solve that problem, but you wait and play with his mind. After all he has put you through, he deserves a little shake-up, "And just who might you be?" "Lord Mronous Arden, and you will address me as sir," the voice commands, obviously irritated. "Really, Mronous, and why would I do that?" you press further, enjoying this game. The voice grows more impatient, "If you dare speak so disrespectfully to me again, I'll have you beaten." "On the contrary, old friend, I believe you will find your men much less loyal now," you reply, smirking as you finally turn to face him. He is elderly, with cold brown eyes deeply inset into his face. His thick, gray eyebrows raise at the sight of your face, and he recoils from you, exactly how you wanted. You continue, "You see... this is my nephew's room, and I wanted to see him now that I've returned from my travels." "S-sir Moridane, please--" "Mronous, where is my nephew? To what dungeon did you banish him after I left on my quest?" you inquire calmly, though accusingly as you place your hand on the hilt of your sword. The man before you steps backward quickly, his flowing robe sliding along the floor, and begins to utter nigh unintelligible words... but you were prepared for this. You draw your bastard sword and cleave his waving hand off just above the wrist. He cries out in pain and sinks to the floor, back against the wall. "Where is my nephew?" you ask him again, jerking him up by his collar and forcing him to look at you. "Gone," the man answers. "Gone where?" He grins in silent triumph, that is until you press your sword to his neck and slide it shallowly across his neck. "I will find him, Mronous, with or without your help. If you tell me where he is, you might live... but if you don't, I swear you won't have a quick death." You continue to cut, but not deeply enough for the damage to be lethal. The man relents quickly, "I-I sold him to the-AGHH!" You pull the blade from his throat and slam him against the wall once more. "You sold me nephew, and to them?" your voice is a low growl, and the temptation to slay the man in your grasp is almost overwhelming. Instead, you toss him aside and call for your guards to retrieve, imprison and drug him so that he cannot cast spells to escape. There is much to do, and he may yet hide more information. You will save your nephew from the monsters Mronous threw him to. Okay, so I used the them cliche. :P I kinda wanted this story to be setting-independent.
Aaarrrgh 03-19-08, 02:30 PM	I just relised, with easter coming up, I might not have time to judge this anytime soon. I will keep this contest open for another week, or maybe more, depending on how my life looks in the close future...
elliott20 03-20-08, 11:00 AM	You turn to see a timid, small statured man peering at you through his feigned toughness. He's young, you can tell. His stance initially slouched and somewhat reluctant, he straightens himself out and repeats himself one more time, this time with more assertion in his voice. "What are you doing in my room?" "I'm sorry," I replied, "I was just really curious about this blade." "You can't have it. It's mine. It was given to me by Lady Terra." his voice now defensive, the young man seems to have a lost a bit of his timidness, though not the angst in his demeanor. "Oh no, I wouldn't have stolen it. I just... wanted to see it." The young man quickly stomps his way over to the short sword and takes it in his hand. He producing a small cloth and begins polishing it nervously. "this... it was a gift. she gave it to me when I fought along side of her." I almost laughed at the idea of this lad being in battle. The young man saw derision in my eyes, and seemed somewhat offended by my bemusement. "I lost my spear in battle, and she handed it to me from her own sheath, telling me to keep fighting... she... she then fought with such strength and beauty... you can't have it!" "relax, relax. I'm not going to take it from you!" "That's what they all say! I know what you all think of me! 'There goes Elric the Unready', 'Elric the Coward', or 'Elric the Nancy Boy'... I know what you all say behind my back! And I know a lot of you do not think I am deserving of her favor!" I realized I may have offended this young man's sensibility and his inesecurities. I quickly apologized, "I certainly did not say that of you. I hardly know you." The young man almost ignored my apology, his grip around the sheath tightened and he yelled, "Well, I DID garner her favor. She told me I was brave! And one day, you will all see it! I will show you all that I am brave! All of you!" He suddenly realize he was screaming, and in a sudden hush, covered his mouth as he stared at my confused and somewhat worried expression. "I'm... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to shout..." "Umm... no... it's okay. I didn't mean to offend you in anyway." "Please leave my room. I need to be alone." he murmured, his hand now fiddling with the button on his front breast pocket. I stepped out of his room, somewhat jostled by the awkward encounter. But before I stepped out of the room, I heard his voice dart behind me. "I'm Elric Redwoord, of the Woord clan, by the way." I turned to him, smirked and replied, "Please to meet you, Elric." and stepped out.
SaintOfSevens 03-21-08, 05:57 PM	You turn and come face to face with absolutely nothing but a cold darkness seemily dancing on the corner of your eyes. You notice a few blotches of blood on the floor in the center of the small room and tense up slightly. You try to put the sword back up while viewing the blood and misplace it, dropping it to the floor. As you turn to pick it up you noticed it is covered in blood as well. you stand shocked and start to back away slowly. As you turn to notice the entrance to the room is now gone, as if it was never there. You feel such a sudden sense of nervousness creep over you, as you look around the room, scared to move. you stare toward the picture and notice the figure is gone, only a throne remains empty. Feeling as if you must make haste to get out of here before something more dreadful happens you pick up the bloodied sword to try and defend yourself as you're surely not alone. upon finally gripping the sword in your shakey palms you notice words written on the papers on the small desk, you also notice they've been written in blood.. it reads "My room is yours, forever today, for touching my things.. you shall pay." As you read the final words you feel a sudden chill brush over your neck and hairs stand on end with a murmured scream seemily inside your head. You jerk around ready to defend but again, nothing is there. Several hours later you start to tire of watching every corner of the room, eyes jolting back and forth, up and down. You lay the sword to rest on the ground, still holding it's handle. You're growing tired and you fear what shall happen when you can no longer protect yourself. More hours go by and you can no longer bare it, you finally drift asleep but you're awakened by a horrible cry and open your eyes. You feel as if you're floating but can not move, you can clearly see everything in the room, or so it seems. You notice you can not turn your head, move your hands at all. Suddenly you notice you're looking at yourself. You don't understand what is happening. how can this be? The figure before you speaks. " My room is yours, forever today, Your body now mine, I told you you'd pay." The figure smiles evily as you now realize you have taken the place of the person from the picture.. you are forever trapped and eventually will go insane. The last sane sight you have is of yourself walking out of a door you had came into.. from a neat.. tidy ... room.
Alexeduardo 03-21-08, 08:22 PM	You turn around and come face to face with the barrel of the biggest handgun you've ever seen. "N-Nothing" you say "I-I was just L-L-Leaving" "Don't give me that crap" A manly and, to a point, DogLike voice "You don't come into a room and leave without taking or leaving nuthin'. Now" The barrel, which you haven't stopped staring at, is now pointed perfectly between your eyes "What were you taking or leaving?" Unable to come up with an answer, you reach for the weapon in the desk but you are stopped by an unsuffurable pain on the wirst that sends you back and on to the bed. You look at your bloody wrist and see that the papers and the ink flask are stained by your blood. You look up and see the same huge handgun, but now you can clearly see a dark-haired hobgoblin with a street thief's attire (a black vest stolen from a dead guard, a pair of brown wool pants stolen from a street vendor and a badass chain around the neckstolen from the local blacksmith) and an incredible multitude of scars all over his face and through his left eye looking at you with unearthly hatred. "I'm gonna ask you one more time, what the **** did you take?" (take is snarled rather than said) "Tell me 'cause I'd really hate to waste gunpowder on a stupid thief like you" You look up, desperately looking for some way out of this. "Ah" he says "You came here for her, well you can tell Borgon and all of his pigs that she's mine, MINE!" "That is not very accurate" says a calm, womanly voice. "I told you to shut the **** up, you *****!" he shouts as he points the gun at the portrait. "Roll, right" Without hesitating, you roll right and end up with your face against the bed. With an unintelligible holler, the Hobgblin shoots at your back. "You'll survive, now throw the ink at him" You obey and hit him on the chest, splattering ink and glass all over him. "Now Go" "What about you?" you ask. "Oh, I'll be fine, just wanna have a little fun here" As you get on your feet you notice the pieces of glass that were harmlessly on the hobgoblin's skin are now penetrating him and making him both bleed like a tomato and scream like a dying pig. You leave running and falling never to return again. "Who's loot now?"
Aaarrrgh 03-24-08, 09:40 AM	Wow! Amazing work, all of you! I'll keep this open a few more days, and judging is going to be really hard... I find it interesting how some of you focused on on the person living in the room, while others focused on the intruder. Both ways work, but sometimes it's a bit hard to know who the main character is... I've written summaries of all entries in the first post, and if you think I've misunderstood your story, please tell me.
elliott20 03-24-08, 09:46 AM	You turn around and come face to face with the barrel of the biggest handgun you've ever seen. "N-Nothing" you say "I-I was just L-L-Leaving" "Don't give me that crap" A manly and, to a point, DogLike voice "You don't come into a room and leave without taking or leaving nuthin'. Now" The barrel, which you haven't stopped staring at, is now pointed perfectly between your eyes "What were you taking or leaving?" Unable to come up with an answer, you reach for the weapon in the desk but you are stopped by an unsuffurable pain on the wirst that sends you back and on to the bed. You look at your bloody wrist and see that the papers and the ink flask are stained by your blood. You look up and see the same huge handgun, but now you can clearly see a dark-haired hobgoblin with a street thief's attire (a black vest stolen from a dead guard, a pair of brown wool pants stolen from a street vendor and a badass chain around the neckstolen from the local blacksmith) and an incredible multitude of scars all over his face and through his left eye looking at you with unearthly hatred. "I'm gonna ask you one more time, what the **** did you take?" (take is snarled rather than said) "Tell me 'cause I'd really hate to waste gunpowder on a stupid thief like you" You look up, desperately looking for some way out of this. "Ah" he says "You came here for her, well you can tell Borgon and all of his pigs that she's mine, MINE!" "That is not very accurate" says a calm, womanly voice. "I told you to shut the **** up, you *****!" he shouts as he points the gun at the portrait. "Roll, right" Without hesitating, you roll right and end up with your face against the bed. With an unintelligible holler, the Hobgblin shoots at your back. "You'll survive, now throw the ink at him" You obey and hit him on the chest, splattering ink and glass all over him. "Now Go" "What about you?" you ask. "Oh, I'll be fine, just wanna have a little fun here" As you get on your feet you notice the pieces of glass that were harmlessly on the hobgoblin's skin are now penetrating him and making him both bleed like a tomato and scream like a dying pig. You leave running and falling never to return again. "Who's loot now?" For some reason, after reading this I immediately thought, "you were eaten by a grue"
Jacob_Crowe 03-26-08, 03:00 AM	At Terjon's urging, i'm going to take a crack at this, since I appearently had an idea completely different from his two. *AHEM* With a soft click, the lock released it's hold on the frame, allowing the door of the room to swing free. Standing barely higher than the doorhandle, a shadowed figure slipped into the room before easing the door latch back into it's previous position. One quick sweep of the room later, the intruder pulled back her hood and released a breath she had not been aware she was holding. Breaking and entering in a sanctified temple wasn't one of the safest things to do - even if you WERE one of the faithful. Technically. Eyes settling upon the portrait upon the wall, a small sigh escapes her lips. "Oh my dear brother, Mear Twistingquilt not good enough for you? Did you honestly have to break her heart so coldly?" Musing softly to herself about events past the attention of all but a few, our eerily fast scoundrel searches every nook and cranny of the sparsely furnished room. "Always chasing women, you were; 'holy warrior' or no, that Buxom dwarven barwench gave you a run for your money, back when you had me watching your back" Gently, and with no small amount of reverence (For it is, after all the Favored Weapon of both Dallah Thaun, her personal moral guide, and Yondalla; the more public face her brother appears to be devoted to), our musing misanthrope removes the shortsword from the chair to check it for traps, levers, and other possible hiding spots for her presumed target. *Click* Seemingly finding the hiding spot she had been searching for, the roguish runt slides the false floor out of the way from beneath the chair, hastily snatching the minute gold coffer from it's resting spot. Reaching for the misplaced Sword, she notices something a moment too late; while the scabbard i where she put it, the blade itself is missing. Stifling a curse, she turns, too late. "My dearest bride sends her regards sister; pity you couldn't make the wedding!"
Terjon of the Blue Rose 03-27-08, 04:08 AM	Nice to see the thread getting a few more entries. Of course the quality threatens to cost me placement and that would be just unthinkable :P . No comment on my rules suggestions then? PS that was a school for training changeling psions. if you update the summations again toss that in for me.
Aaarrrgh 03-27-08, 04:33 PM	Challenge is now closed! Now all I have to do is the hard part: Judging! As soon as I decide who's winning, I'll let you know. Btw, Jacob_Crowe, which of the siblings is the character you're entring the contest with, the brother or the sister? By the way, I have a few suggestions to add to your rules. First I would suggest that entrants (or even just viewers) are well within their rights to request the right to create the next challenge. It will be up to the winner of the current challenge if they will pass on that honor. To be fair general manners will dictate that those of us who have already created a challenge (currently myself, M_V, and painful death sound [or was that pirate yell]) will pass on the chance. Those who wish to request their's be the next challenge should PM the winner within 48 hours of anouncement. If multiple request are made it will be up to the victor to choose one. Remembering M_V's dillema with Lady_Lindis's response we should allow the challenger the option to declare victory through popular vote (say a one week period.) if they do not desire to choose the victor themselves for any reason. Poster's will be considered to have voted for themselves unless they provide an new vote stating otherwise. One vote a piece. Given M_V's challenge I would put in a point that the author of each challenge should be able to declare (in the OP of their challenge) if they wish to include closeness to original concept in the scoring points. Lastly, it is not explicetly stated but no challenger should be allowed to post responses to their own challenge. Sounds good, all of it. But I think voting should only be open for posters, and it should not be allowed to vote for yourself. That way we can avoid troll-voting.
Jacob_Crowe 03-28-08, 12:52 AM	Challenge is now closed! Now all I have to do is the hard part: Judging! As soon as I decide who's winning, I'll let you know. Btw, Jacob_Crowe, which of the siblings is the character you're entring the contest with, the brother or the sister? the original idea i had when Terjon told me the setup of the room was the Happily married Paladin of Yondolla, the brother. I'm gonna say that he's the setup, and the roguish sister is the actual character... she kinda bloomed on her own :P
Aaarrrgh 04-02-08, 10:27 AM	The day of judgement is upon you! It has been reaaly hard to pick the winner, all of you did a great job, and should be very proud. However, these three should be a little more proud than the rest of you. Third place: elliot20! (the young fighter) You did a great job of describing both personality and background within the story. I really felt the character would be interesting in a game. For your prize, you may choose anything you want from this thread! Second place: Terjon of the Blue Rose! (the paladin traitor) This character seemed to be living in a way few people can describe. But you did a great job, and showed how deep and complicated a character can be. And also, is there anything cooler than a paladin brutally murdering her best friend? You may also pick your prize, but from the items listed in here! Winner: SaintOfSevens! (the bodysnatcher) ...the answer to my question above is of course: Yes, evil spirits who steal your life! I could create a whole campaign with that thing as the BBEG. I also loved the tone of your story. It almost scared me away from my computer... Your prize is a free wish, which will be granted by the people in this thread!
elliott20 04-02-08, 12:29 PM	w00t! paper crown for the win!
Alexeduardo 04-05-08, 02:34 PM	For some reason, after reading this I immediately thought, "you were eaten by a grue" umm... is that an insult?
Terjon of the Blue Rose 04-05-08, 10:35 PM	I think I'll take #24. Somehow I just think it suits me.;)
Jacob_Crowe 04-06-08, 12:51 PM	Hmm. It would appear that i that i needed to actually draft mine 2-3 times like i had planned. Well, congrats to the winners, even that arrogant b@stard Terjon, y'all done well. i guess i'll just have to do better next time :tie:
elliott20 04-06-08, 02:17 PM	umm... is that an insult? oh god no. It just reminded me of the time I was playing that Zork game. (that is where it came from right?) I just remember being eaten by a grue consistently because I quite frankly did not know what to do against it. (it was described as some kind of presence of darkness and all that.)
Terjon of the Blue Rose 04-13-08, 03:59 AM	SaintOfSevens hasn't been online since the day before this was judged. I think if he hasn't checked in by the time I log in on wednesday I'll just go ahead and start up the next challenge myself. To SaintOfSevens: If you do read this and want to start the next challenge just drop a note into this thread indicating such. I don't mind waiting it's just since you are listed as last activity before the judging I have to assume you don't have any plan to move us on to the next challenge.