Life can really take it out of you sometimes, you know? Alayna and I have both been very sick and very active this weekend. We got our official engagement photos done (yay!) which was awesome… but also involved an hour plus of tromping around in the snow in… well, what could not be considered proper cold weather gear. We also put together a surprise birthday dinner for her mother, which was awesome (and mostly thanks to Alayna), but also a lot of work. Finally, yesterday, we got a day to just relax and be sick together. It was nice. Anyway, you’re here for a story challenge. So, in case you haven’t done this challenge before, I’m going to post a picture. Your job is to write a story about what is happening in said picture. Feel free to flesh it out some, to add things to the picture (you’ll probably have to with this one), but make sure that your story is actually about the picture that I post. For example, if I post a picture of a dart competition in a bar, don’t write a story about slavers selling mermaids. If I post a picture of a sorcerer casting a spell at the top of his tower, don’t write a story about a fist-fighter competing in the ring. So, no that you’ve got a good concept of what your doing, here’s your picture. Remember, if your going to post a story here, keep it under 500 words. If you want to post a longer story on your own blog, feel free to post a link to it here. So… you all know I’m getting married, right:

MedievalWedding(1)

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4 thoughts on “Story Challenge of the Week

  1. Reblogged this on Charli Plus One and commented:
    The weary journey left Sir Stone drained physically and discombobulated mentally. His troops had traveled unmanly miles through a treacherous terrain bound and determined to end the devastation Lord Trice was leaving in his wake across the Republic. The regiment set up camp for the night in the mossy mountains of Northern Georgia. Sir Stone’s squire bustled around the elegant tent, so out of place amongst the grit and grime of his rabble crew. Fifteen of his men, loyal enough to lose limb or life for him on the field sit beside a great fire with matching purpose blazing in their tired eyes. Drops of rain begin to fall from murky clouds and Sir Stone relinquishes his tent to his comrades. He roams the mountain side, searching and longing, for what? He knows not. The men whisper as he takes his stroll of solitude worried about their fearless leader and his restless spirit. Still, his heart suffers and he can almost feel the icy rain drop and cut his organ like shards of glass. The pain of battle is no comparison to the consuming loneliness that filled him. He was a celebrated war hero, fighting to ensure the progression of the New Republic of Georgia but he had no devoted wife to pray for his return and no legacy to carry on his name. In fact, if he died in battle tomorrow, his name would slip through the memory of his people and he would be forgotten.
    The lone cry of a wolf in the distance pulls him back to reality, he is in a pathless place surrounded sightlessly by towering woods. The wolf howls, closer, his large hands callously grip the end of his sword as his ears catch the patter of bare feet against stale twigs.

    The taste of tequila stings her lips as a rapacious lustful desire shocks her body. The coolness of the damp ground clings to her bare feet as her white chiffon dress grazes the stale twigs of the woods. Here in the wilderness she wandered nightly, contemplating the complexity of her situation. She felt empowered in the freedom of roaming in and out of towns never settling in one place too long but on some nights when the wind blew cooler and the moon twinkled silver, a sliver of loneliness crept in. She wondered if she would ever find the one person that would cease her wandering. She steps into a clearing and the silvery iridescence of the moon basks enchanting the strange man standing across from her.

    Her eyes take him in and his heart stops. No words are exchanged before she finds herself in his massive arms, his hand still gripping his blade.

    1. Fitchix, you have some really good descriptions in this piece. The who think comes off as a tad over-romantic for me, and the introduction of the wandering woman seems extremely abrupt and tears me out of the potential reality of the story. If she was a fairy of some kind I could see her wandering in the woods, but a random girl… it stretches my imagination to the breaking point. It might be better if either 1) the woman wasn’t human (maybe she is the wolf that he hears?) or 2) if she was his wife traveling with his army and they had gone off together for a moment alone. The New Republic of Georgia is an interesting twist and I’d love to hear some of the backstory behind that.

      1. I love your suggestion for the woman to be the wolf! I was trying to cram this piece into 500 words but I think I will continue with this and edit based on your suggestion
        . Thanks for the constructive critiques! I love your prompts.

        1. I’m glad that I could be helpful :). If you’ve never read it, you might want to read David Eddings’ ‘Belgarath the Sorcerer’. He uses a similar tool to introduce one of his major female characters (she’s a wolf who learns how to shapeshift into a human).

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