WRITERS' CORNER discussion

Write a short story about someone who lives here...




Due by February 27th

Have fun

Please let me know if you will be participating

Participating...
Zombieslayer
Travis
Crosby

I'm in.

I'll be in it!

I'm definitely in!!!

Here is my short story - enjoy!

Highstorm's World

(view spoiler)[Zanzibar Highstorm opened the curtain of his library and looked out through the window. From this vantage point he could see the world – his world! The village of Náiala lay several leagues to the south and the city of Raspús bustled below.

“Galdrick, why is it that people refuse to fear me, even though I have shown my true power to this world?” Lord Zanzibar Highstorm, the self-proclaimed ruler of the country of Waírwarree, asked his most trusted servant.

Galdrick bowed low, as he placed a tray with his master’s morning meal on the large oak table, where Zanzibar liked to dine. “Mayhap they do not understand your true power, Master.”

Zanzibar turned on his heel and sneered at the servant. “So I must do more? Enloch and Forewood are decimated! Duke Rudigar flees with his remaining thousand men! The whole city of Raspús kneels before my power! But Náiala still defies me! One small, insignificant village defies me!” He snatched his goblet from the table, spilling some of the red wine as he brought it up to his lips.

The servant obediently wiped away the wine before it stained the table. “Mayhap it needs another lesson, Master.” Galdrick bowed once more, as he stepped away from the table. “Mayhap they cannot see you nestled high up here in the safety of the fortress.”

Lord Highstorm turned back to the window to observe the small village as best as he could. “Náiala needs another lesson. How will I teach that damned Lord Wolfstrike that he must bend the knee to me or die?”

Galdrick’s gnarled, old face contorted. “Kill him, your imminence?”

Zanzibar swung around. “Yes, kill him! Do you have a problem with that?”

The servant bowed low in fear. “No, Master… it’s just… it’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“The legends, Master… they say…” A sharp whack on the head stopped Galdrick uttering another word, as he found himself covered in red wine and picking up the goblet from the floor.

“Stories! You believe in the stories that the townsfolk make up?” Zanzibar yelled, “You believe I should yield what is rightfully mine because of some fairy-stories that a bunch of cowardly fools have invented to explain why they could never take Náiala?” He strode across to the servant and smacked him across the face with the back of his gauntlet. “I am the ruler of this country! King Mordrock and all of his banner-men could not defeat me! That is why this is my country! This is what I have worked so hard to create! I cannot have one storybook character ruin what I have built!”

“Maybe Master should go down the mountain and tell the Dark Wolf to leave?”

Another whack with the gauntlet sent the servant sprawling on the bluestone floor. “Do not ever perceive that it is your place to tell me what to do! And – do not call him the Dark Wolf! He is just a man! A man that can be killed! I saw him bleeding with my own two eyes!”

“Yet, he still walks the earth, just as he has always been.” Zanzibar looked to the library doorway. His brother stood, leaning against the archway eating an apple. “Your decrepit servant speaks true, brother. If you believe yourself to be who you proclaim you are; then why do you not make your way down the mountain and face Wolfstrike again?”

“Karzijar, what are you still doing here? I told you to leave three nights ago!”

The younger brother laughed, before taking another bite of his apple. With his empty hand, he helped the old servant to his feet. “Go and clean yourself up, Galdrick, I need to speak with my insane brother.” The old man scurried out as fast as he could. “Ah, Zanzibar! This is what your dreams have brought us!”

“You have overstayed your welcome, little brother. I asked you to leave. Now leave before I have you thrown from the mountain!” Zanzibar ordered, but it fell upon deaf ears.

“Brother, you can do nothing that the Dark Wolf has not already done.” Karzijar stated with a smile. “I know you believe yourself to be ruler of this country, but you are not. It is that simple.” He took another bite of his apple.

“How dare you speak to me like that!” the elder Highstorm shouted, “I am Lord Zanzibar Highstorm, ruler of…”

“…A fort on a mountain.” Karzijar finished. “What you believe you have achieved has now been restored by Lord Wolfstrike. The Dark Wolf has defeated your men and restored Waírwarree to its King. Ráspus celebrates the fall of Highstorm. Náiala remains untouched, and you sit up here talking about what should be."

”You lie!”

“Do I, brother?” Karzijar walked across to the window and opened it. “Take a look at your world, brother.” He laughed as the celebratory music and cheers from the city of Ráspus drifted up the mountain. “There is dancing in the streets. Did you approve of such clamour?”

“No! No! No! This cannot be!” Zanzibar yelled as he stormed across to the window. “I forbid it! Get my armies down there immediately!”

Karzijar laughed once more. “Your armies are down there, brother – either dead or captured, but they are down there. King Mordrock’s men simply await us. We are in the midst of a siege. Your mountain fortress is too much of a hassle to climb up to and we will be killed if we come down. So we wait.”

“What?” Zanzibar’s face contorted and went a shade of red, “Mordrock’s men do not even have the decency to come up and face me? They are not true warriors! They are cowards! They know my power!”

“Your power is all in your head, brother,” Karzijar pointed out. “Why would they waste their time and manpower to get you off the mountain? We will either begin an exhausting climb down or die from lack of food – there is no third choice. We are dead men, brother – it is that simple!” He laughed once more.

His brother’s words finally penetrated his stubborn mind. “We are dead men?” Zanzibar uttered, “We are dead men…” (hide spoiler)]

Interesting Travis, I like it.

Hey, my story is in my folder. I'm still confused about how to post into into this discussion but I'll figure it out ASAP. But until then, like I said, it's in my folder. I hope you enjoy it!

Just copy and paste it.

TMEB said 'Just copy and paste it.'

It's pretty long... I will try if you want me too and I think I might be able to do the spoiler-thing... If you want, I can attempt to put it on here under a spoiler-thing!

Put it under a spoiler.

If it is too long just post it in two parts.

only 2 more days

(view spoiler)[
I stood on the edge of the cliff, harsh Northern winds threatening to knock me into the water below.
He loved it here. He loved it so much.
I have no idea how long I was standing out there before the sound of footsteps made me turn my head.
I smiled wanly.
"Hi, Mark."
My uncle Mark raised his hand.
"Hey. He walked up and stood beside me.
"It's dangerous to stand out here, you know." He said.
"I know. That's why I like it."
The lot of us, me, my brother Cliff, my sister Macy, Mum and Uncle Mark had been living in the family home for almost two months.
The family home, a small Elizabethan castle just off the cost of Ireland out of Wexford port, had stood on those moors for more than two-hundred and fifty years, when the first of our family immigrated from England.
"Where are Cliff and Macy?" I asked.
My siblings, both older than me, had been spending a considerable amount of time on Saturdays and Sundays in Wexford.
"They went in-land for the evening. Mark said.
"Cliff and his mates went to the cinema and I believe Macy's gone shoppin' with her girlfriends."
I nodded.
Macy and I got along, she probably would've let me go with her if I asked.
But I hadn't.
I hadn't left Deeler island since arriving.
"You really ought to get out more, Kelsey. Mark said.
I sat down cross-legged on the cliff.
He sat beside me.
"I know you miss your dad, I do, too, but spendin' your whole life on this rock isn't gonna bring him back."
I cast a wry glance at my uncle.
"Did my Mum put you up to this?" I asked.
Mark smiled, blushing.
"Alright, you got me."
I stared out onto the water again.
"He brought us out here every summer until I was thirteen. I mused.
"I wonder why he stopped."
I already knew, but Mark had a habit of fidgeting like mad when he couldn't talk, and if he wasn't going to leave me alone, I figured I might as well make small-talk.
If talking about your dead father can be considered 'small-talk', that is.
"He was gettin' pretty sick by then. Mark said.
"He wanted to bring you pups out more, but it's a trek from Dublin, ain't it?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, it was always a real pain gettin' out here, then we'd only get to spend two or three days, then we'd be back on the ferry."
My father loved Deeler Island, which I reckon is why Gram left it to him when she died.
Mark lived in Wexford, he had always taken care of the place when he had time, then we'd all make the pilgrimage to the island for a week during the summer holiday.
It'd been six months since the cancer took Dad.
It took us four months to set everything up in our flat in Dublin, what with all the cleaning we had to do to get our security deposit back, then there was all the work getting our bags to Wexford for Mark to pick up and take to Deeler.
That was always the plan.
If someone in the immediate family died, the lot of us would group up at Ausworth House, where we were safe.
Ausworth was the family's true name, what it had been in England, but my great-great-great-great-grandfather changed it to Aush when he married a girl from Ireland and came here with her.
And built her this spread. The castle, and there's just nothing else you can call it, was unbelievable.
Sixty rooms.
Sixty rooms. For five of us.
"Kelsey?" Mark asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, sorry, Mark. What'd you say?"
"I asked how school was goin'." Mark said.
I shrugged.
"Pain gettin' there, but I do okay."
It was an hour-long ferry ride to get to Wexford to school every day.
Macy was twenty-two, so she didn't have to go, but Cliff and I did.
And I don't think the eighteen-year-old liked having his kid sister to look out for on the mainland.
I had to sit right next to him on the ferry and God help me if I strayed at the port.
I could not leave his side until we got to school, where he was in his last form and I was in my tenth.
"That's how much Dad loved this place. I said, changing the subject completely.
"Named his only son Cliff."
Mark sighed heavily.
"I know, love. He put his arm around my shoulders.
"It's hard for all of us to be here, but this is what he would've wanted. You know that."
I leaned back against his shoulder.
"Yeah, I know."
"How come you never go into the mainland with Cliff and Macy?"
Mark asked.
I shrugged.
"Don't want to be a bother to Cliff. He's got this 'man of the family' air about him these days, and if I went to Wexford with him, I think he'd keep me on a leash."
Mark laughed.
"That's a little extreme."
"It's true. I looked up at him.
"You should see him when we're goin' to school in the mornings. Won't leave me be till we get there."
Mark made his 'is that so?' face.
"Well, maybe you and me should head out to Wexford and see a movie sometime. Without Cliff."
I arched my brows.
"Why would you want to do that?"
Mark laughed again.
"Spend time with my niece... Mmm. Maybe I'm mad."
I elbowed him.
"Shut up. I laughed. I turned serious again.
"Have I thanked you yet?"
"Thanked me for what?"
"For takin' such good care of Ausworth. For stayin' here with us so long."
Mark smiled.
"Why wouldn't I stay here with you?"
" 'Cause of Aaron."
Mark gave me another look.
"Who told you about him?"
I smirked.
"Mum. When I was eight."
Mark groaned. I laughed again.
"Course she did. He said, shaking his head. He was smiling.
"He gets it. He knows I need to be here with you guys right now."
"He could've come, too."
Mark shook his head.
"He's got a job he needs to be at the beckon call of. He couldn't."
"Well, maybe you and me could head into Wexford and visit him sometime. I suggested.
"Maybe I can see a movie with some school mates."
Mark laughed.
I loved his laugh.
"Maybe your Mom wouldn't have to know?"
I smiled.
"You read my mind."
Mark smiled. He hugged me before he stood up.
"You're a good kid, Kelsey. He said.
"See you at supper?"
I nodded.
"Yeah."
I watched Mark go, then lay out on my back, my feet hanging out over the edge of the cliff.
You're a rude bugger for livin' us like you did, Dad. I thought, letting a single tear fall down my face.
But thanks for settin' this place up for us. You know I'm grateful for that, don't you?
I didn't wait for a reply.
Course you do.
(hide spoiler)]

Mine's up.

good job

TMEB wrote: "good job"

Thank you.:)

Okay this contest is now closed. I'll go make the poll.

poll almost over, be sure to vote

Congrats Travis