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 December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art

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Tymber

Tymber


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PostSubject: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyTue Dec 01, 2020 5:45 pm

Stories, poetry, artwork, whatever your talent to share - must be ElfQuest themed - and may contain canon ElfQuest characters (Cutter, Leetah, Skywise, etc) or custom characters of your own (as long as it's in the "ElfQuest" universe).

Your submissions should include at least one of these things (for art), and at least 3 of the 5 for stories (but let's see you use all five!)

Stories can be as long as you want them to be.

December 2020 Element Suggestions:
Gift(s) - figured since December is Christmas
A calling - literal someone calling, a desire or an occupation
circles - be it visually, mentally, a landscape form ... whatever
A tiny bird
Expectations





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Tymber

Tymber


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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyFri Dec 11, 2020 11:29 pm

Almost half way through the month and no submissions? I guess I can try to get this party started...

December 2020 Element Suggestions:
Gift(s) - figured since December is Christmas
A calling - literal someone calling, a desire or an occupation
Circles - be it visually, mentally, a landscape form ... whatever
A tiny bird
Expectations

Recap Cliffnotes for YEARS of story writing is here: http://www.tawmis.com/stonehowl/stonehowlrecap.html

Rumdreer, a vicious human known to Buren, spoke of legends of his brutality, his callous, his viciousness, and his thrill for watching things die – slowly. He’d come from a clan known for their war like attitude, called The Bloodtide. But even among the most vicious and cruel of their lots, which included male and female, murderers, rapists, and other deviant behavior, Rumdreer’s name was the only one whispered in awe among his own tribe. The thousands of scars that decorated his body, his face, his arms and his legs, spoke of multiple assassination attempts on his life – all of them a symbol for someone who he’d killed for failure. He believed that it was his calling to cleanse the world of false worship and demons – and the trail of bodies and blood that seeped into the ground due to his murderous spree, seemed to be indicate there was no one that was going to stop him.

Windfetcher had come down from a tree to stand next to her tribe, and growled, “You threaten my tribe.”

“You?” he laughed, “You are their leader? A woman?” Despite having females in Rumdreer’s group with him; and despite being equally powerful and brutal as warriors, women in Rumdreer’s mind would never be in a place of leadership – and those women who followed accepted this. “This just keeps getting better and better,” he laughed. He turned again to Buren, “Your idiocy exceeds even my expectations.”

Rumdreer looked over the elves standing before him, as they had all climb down or jumped down from the surrounding trees. “I thought all of you rode on the backs of wolves, not climbed trees like monkeys.”

Vineweaver smiled. “We all do ride on the back of wolves.”

The wolves howled all around Rumdreer and his men. Eyes that were tiny, yellow, flickering circles, were reflected from the torches, held by Rumdreer’s followers.

Rumdreer smiled. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

Rumdreer gave a signal and arrows from two women launched; the feathers of a tiny bird were soft, as they passed through their fingers towards their target. One struck Stream, the other struck Buren; as both fell to their knees, Rumdreer threw his axe at the child – and was shocked to see it stop just before hitting him – stopped, inexplicably – floating – Stonecutter, holding out his hand as if an invisible hand extended from his and gripped Rumdreer’s axe in mid-air.

Even the elves of Stonehowl were shocked; they’d all wondered, being a half breed, if Stonecutter would have any ‘gifts’ of magic – and it would seem he had.

Windfetcher helped Stream and Buren back to their feet. “By the sounds of what you’ve said – and, let me say you talk too much – the ones you murdered were afraid of you. We’re not. We’ve spent years of our lives dealing with humans who were born of hatred for our kind. We will not run. We will not flee. We will stand. We will fight. We will defend our home. And if we need to, we will kill you.”

With a gesture of his hand, Stonecutter sent Rumdreer’s axe flying back at him – which he barely avoided.

The wolves began to close in.


• Vineweaver (Male Soul Name: Reyk) – Auburn Hair, Blue Eyes (Tree shaper, Soul Mate of Stillbreeze, Plant Shaper)
• Stillbreeze (Female Soul Name: Hewl) – Brown Hair, Brown Eyes (Soul Mate of Vineweaver, Tanner)
• Echo (Male Soul Name: Ayav) – Brown Hair, Green Eyes (Cub of Stillbreeze & Vineweaver, Magic)- About twenty three years old.
• Windfetcher (Female Soul Name: Burm) – Auburn Hair, Brown Eyes (Cub of Stillbreeze & Vineweaver) – About twenty three years old, Chieftess
• Snowspring (Female, Soul Name: Tylo – Black Hair, Green Eyes) – Fourteen years old. Daughter of Shadow and Foxhair.
• Stream (Female Soul Name: Vree) – Red Hair, Green Eyes (Healer)
• Buren (Human, Brown hair, hazel eyes) – About 25 years old in human years
• Stonecutter (half elf/half human, son of Stream and Buren – brown hair, green eyes) – About seven years old

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TrollHammer

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptySat Dec 12, 2020 2:17 am

Hmm... Interesting way of handling the beginning of the battle, I like how they truely arenworking as a tribe, a team of individuals each doing their part instead of 'and now the main character will save everyone with their amazing heroness.' Yes we have someone learn their powers but they are believably inexperienced but still impactful without being too 'ex machina'. We dont really even know what his power is yet: simple TK, magnetism, is he interacting with the wood of the handle? No one knows yet so theres plenty of room for development.

Thanks for the story, Tymber!

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TrollHammer

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptySun Dec 13, 2020 4:24 pm

Gift(s) - figured since December is Christmas
A calling - literal someone calling, a desire or an occupation
circles - be it visually, mentally, a landscape form ... whatever
A tiny bird
Expectations

First part, figured since I'm not done yet and it's already long winded, I'd break it up...

Jaida's eyes watered, as she fought to watch her bird-friend, Flurry over the trees. The stark winter sun hung low in the cold, clear sky as they hunted ravvits together, making it even harder for her to keep her eyes open in the brisk breeze. She waited, peering through the tears and the glare, hoping to see the bird's shoulder dip into dive.

Food was scarce this year, and her small family could not remember roaming so farther south. The winter had started cold and early, and they had not found much to store up before hand.  Traveling was second nature for their small group, but never so far: usually they would simply move camp to where the deer came down from the mountains in the fall, or down to the river during the spring for fish, or to the meadow for berries and grain in the summer, but all those familiar places had been left far behind to keep from starving and freezing to death.

Here near a ridge of hills crowning a much larger, blue-grey mountain, the chill in the air was much more tolerable, and there were signs of life, if only she could find something bigger than a chipmunk through the week.  At least her snow owl, Flurry, ate well that day.

Jaida blinked and looked away a moment, being mindful to stay aware of what was around her. It wouldn't do to be a snack for something else.  The thought of being warm inside the belly of some creature gave her mixed feelings and a shiver down her spine. A warm full belly sounded good, as long as it was her own belly that was full and not something else chewing on her.

But it was silent around her, little to see but trees sticking out of the snow and the occasional half-melted footprint of some creature in the crusting, tracks from long ago. It was becoming obvious that there wasn't much around to hunt, so she sent to Flurry to return for now.

The wind seemed to change direction and swirl around her a moment, making it difficult for Flurry to reach her as the bird swooped low across the ground.  It was probably a good idea to head back to shelter if the wind was picking up even more. It was already buffeting her with a thump as she extended her arm for a perch.

Just as Flurry reached her, the ground darkened around her and another turbulent thud of air knocked her from her feet. She momentarily had a glimpse of a claw clamping down on her arm that was far too large to be Flurry's....

to be continued...
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TrollHammer

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyWed Dec 16, 2020 2:16 am

continued...

She startled herself awake, noting the warmth and stillness of the air as she glanced around franticly. She seemed to be in a fairly large room with curving stone walls and various artifacts around her. Spears, knives, nets, cages, and more were set in nooks and stacked in orderly piles around the room. The room itself seemed to be quite large, and seemed to have a series of hides stitched across a large opening at one end. Another walkway lead out of the room.

Her bird Flurry dozed on a perch to one side. The snow owl had not seemed small to her before, but the perch it sat on appeared to have been crafted for a much larger creature, presumably one that roosted on perches like a bird, but Jaida could hardly imagine such size. Still, for as much as Flurry was a healthy bird of prey, the white bird looked quite small and fragile on the massive perch.

*You're half starved, come out and eat your fill* was the sending she felt, along with a mental urging of a direction to follow. The depth of the sending was intense compared to what she was used to. Her family sent little more than a notion now and then when hunting, and few words were sent, much less spoken, except for the occasional story-night. Jaida felt more connection to Flurry than anyone else up to this point. The sending felt... strange. Warm and inviting in some ways, stark and distant in others, with no brightness to it. Not exactly dark but it lacked the cheeriness her family's sendings carried.

Jaida carefully reached out with a muted sending to her bird-friend, and Flurry seemed to be content for the moment. It was unlikely to wander off without her, so she followed the urging, through the smaller opening in the room and into a passageway. Her years of roaming the ever-changing landscape of the snowy mountains and their recent forced hike into the unknown had sharpened her senses and embedded an acute attention to her surroundings. Even in this alien environment without a sense of sun, sky or snow, she had no fear of getting lost. She picked out details around her as well as how she moved along her path to remember her way back.

She quickly arrived at a large table in a wonderfully sculpted room. The stone of the room was the same dark, blue-grey material she'd seen in the halls and the room she'd work up into, and the flowing lines of sculpture were oddly beautiful in that there didn't seem to be any attempt by the sculptor to make it look good, nor were there depictions of events that happened, recognizable images, or any other reasoning behind the curving forms. She couldn't make sense of it, but enjoyed it just the same.

She didn't notice the motionless figure at the far end of the table. There had been so many figure-like curls of stone here and there, the immobile elf had been unnoticed until he raised his hand toward a chair next to him. "Please sit, child, and let me look at you." the old elf said gently.

While it was concerning that she still had little more than a notion of where she was and no clue where her family was, her situation didn't seem to set off her sense of danger. Without much hesitation, she walked over to the offered seat and sat down.

"What would you like to eat? If there is anything you prefer, just say so." the old elf offered. But Jaida was already reaching for the bowl of dried berries and nuts between them. She raked a few into the bowl in front of her, set the other bowl down and poked a few in her mouth, looking up at her host to see if it was OK.

Jaida's family had been traveling alone for quite some time, and though they hadn't seen another elf for most of Jaida's life she was fully aware there were other elves around, and that they lived quite differently than her family did. Her parents had never quite fit in with the other members of the tribe, and had even started living apart from them before 'getting lost' while teaching her how to hunt. From what her parents told her, it was unlikely that the tribe even remembered them by the next turn of the seasons, much less missed them, but her parents remembered the jeering they'd received when they tried to hold Jaida to a different standard of respect and calm a midst the revelry that followed almost every occasion. Wild celebrations had preceded and followed every hunt, birth, death, fight, and even at times for no reason at all.

With as reserved as this old elf seemed to be, her own family might be considered relatively wild, and Jaida did not wish to seem savage. She finished the mouthful and told him her name.

"I am called Voll by the others here, and I would like to welcome you to Blue Mountain. My scout found you wandering alone with your bird on the slopes of the hills on the edge of our territory, and brought you here, safe from the cold. Where did you come from?"

His words were more than she'd heard in years. Her family didn't talk much when they weren't hunting, and not at all when they were. There was hardly a need for it, as they did almost everything together except occasionally stalk prey alone. She took some time to think through what he'd said, munching on a few more pieces of fruit while she considered her reply. "From the other side of the hills away from your blue mountain." The words came out haltingly, as unaccustomed as she was to having to explain anything. If one of her group had asked where she had been or where something was, she'd have simply gestured and sent a notion of where it was, with hardly a moment taken for either person to make much of a sound, much less a full sentence.

Her attempt to limit the exposure of her family's existence was short lived, as he pressed further: "And you have come all this way alone?" he asked.

As he spoke, she had selected the chewiest of the dried fruits in front of her and popped them into her mouth, to give a reason not to respond right away. She chewed slowly, hoping he would add something more to make the exchange a little less one sided. She knew all she cared to know for the moment, except how to get out and back to her family, and the energy from the food was warming her quickly, making her feel ready to take on another round of ceaseless hunting for the group. She couldn't see any way around telling him, "My group has been trekking to where it is warmer to find food." She paused, still not used to having to explain herself. "I was out alone to hunt for the day."

Voll smiled for a bit, warmly at first to hear there were others in her group, but the smile changed a bit when he replied, "Unfortunately, you will find it harder to hunt in this area, since we have a large group of hunters that glean most of what can be found for the others that live here. I would like to extend an invitation to join us here, at Blue Mountain. We have worked hard to make this a haven for our kind, and if you live here, there will be plenty to eat and warm beds for all of you. How big is your group?"

She still didn't like that she was the only one having to explain herself, but she also wasn't used to talking with people and turning things around to where she was asking questions. "Not many, but it may not matter." A pause. "I'd have to get back and ask if they want to stop following deer." She contemplated a small round seed rolling around in her bowl before adding "I think they would not." She felt funny after turning down her host, and didn't raise her eyes to see the smile fade a bit.

It was Voll's turn to be silent and contemplative. He made no attempt to hide his disappointment, but instead motioned for another elf to come in. This one wore a headpiece that made the elf look even more birdlike than Voll, and Jaida liked looking at her. Voll seemed like a well intentioned enough fellow, but this new elf seemed younger and perhaps friendlier. Maybe it was just the feathers. Voll introduced her. "This is Yeyeen, one of our hunters. She is the one that brought you here."

Jaida's eyes flickered for a moment before she asked, "Why can't I remember that?" She presumed nothing in her question.

The feathered elf raised her eyebrows a moment. "You passed out when I got there, I figured you were close to freezing to death, so I brought you back." she said, half shrugging her shoulders. "Could I bring you something more than a snack to eat? You need some strength so that sort of thing doesn't happen again."

Jaida glanced at Voll a moment to see what his reaction was to the response. He didn't act like anything happened more than what was stated, and she started to get a little more of an idea of what was going on around here. Yes, her family group was hungry, but they weren't starved by any stretch of the imagination, and the mildly sore feeling she had in her ribs and shoulders felt more like she was hit by something big. Possibly bigger than whatever set on Flurry's perch. Perhaps something, if she could trust her memory, with a giant claw?

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TrollHammer

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptySun Dec 20, 2020 4:19 am

Later, Yeyeen lead Jaida through the passages in a seemingly half hearted attempt to show her all the reasons to stay here in this Blue Mountain. To a degree, Jaida wasn't sure what she would choose if she had truly been alone, and it would have depended on if she could leave whenever she wanted, but it wasn't up to her. Either her family would choose (and if there was any discussion about it it would be the first time more than 10 words had been spoken together among the family in countless ages), or these bird-folk would continue to neglect to show her how to leave and she would be trapped here for a while. Either way, it wasn't her decision to make.

She was making a mental map of the mountain, noting areas that were purposely avoided. Perhaps there were other elves that wouldn't have noticed the slight detours and meanderings where Yeyeen led her, but for a wanderer like Jaida it became acutely obvious that there were large areas that were being avoided, and in some cases, perhaps other denizens, as some paths that were avoided at one point were crossed later. Jaida made an image of the place in her mind, aligned it with the view she had from outside before she'd been brought here, and had a feeling she now knew which way to try if she was going to try to leave.

Eventually, though, their path wound back into one of the smaller places that had been avoided earlier. It turned out to be a room that was moderately sized and, like most of the places she'd been to, had little to indicate what it's purpose was. Benches seemed to be formed in the walls around the room, but there were no furs or pads, or bowls, or stored items... the room was empty.

Yeyeen, who had loosened up a bit, gestured to the lone occupant of the room: a tall, dark haired elf. "This is Winnowil. She is our healer, and if you have no objection, will check to make sure you are well."

Jaida nodded her assent. She'd never met a healer, and the few times healing had been brought up in the tribe it was regarded with disgust. Jaida really didn't have all that high of opinion what the tribe thought, and it was more out of defiance that she agreed than because of trust or need of healing. She really didn't pay much attention to the healer elf, she was more concerned with getting back to her family.

The healer bent over and placed her palm on Jaida's temple. Carefully, she ran her fingers through Jaida's hair and concentrated. Winnowil's eyes were closed, and one twitched for a moment. "I don't see why you fainted... you seem well suited to the cold and wandering. Even so, you are half starved and in need of several good meals.”

“However, before you head back to such things, I’d like to examine you closer. There’s something... odd about you somehow...” Winnowil gestured to one of the benches.

Jaida looked from the tall figure to the bench and back. She supposed that she could be up and running fairly quickly if anything strange happened. Laying down wasn’t submission of any sort. It looked hard and cold, though, and far from comfortable. She reluctantly made her way over to the bench and laid upon it. She actually didn’t notice much, other than it was far more comfortable than she’d expected.

Winnowil ran her hands up Jaida’s legs, abdomen, chest, arms, and ended up at her head. She was concentrating intensely, and though her eyes were closed, it felt as though she stared deep into Jaida’s soul as she leaned over with her face less than a hand’s width from her own. It seemed.... wrong... somehow, like she was being eyed by a great wolf from the old mountains. The eyeless gaze seemed to search deeper, deeper, burrowing darkly into her inner self. It seemed to be searching for something. something deeply personal and private, and it didn’t seem to be careful about it.

Jaida felt a familiarity to it all, though, and mentally she reacted as though she was out in the frozen wastes, being followed by a predator in the night: She mentally took a path where she could stay out of sight, left her tracks leading to an obvious path, and then stepped aside to let the intruder passed, unaware that she’d given her the slip, keeping her inner self free from the eyeless gaze.

After a while, though, Winnowil seemed to come to herself, and her eyes opened. “There is, indeed, more to you than meets the eye. There is some small part of you that is seeking death, almost craving it, and it will win out over you eventually.”

As Jaida moved to sit up on the bench, she tried to wrap her head about what this strange, tall elf was telling her. She was dieing? She had never felt better.

Winnowil stepped back and walked around the room, as though in deep consideration."There is this small piece of you that will cause you to grow old an die, unlike the rest of us here. But I will give you a gift and remove it for you, and you will never need to worry that this flaw will be your demise.”

Jaida searched Winnowil’s face, trying to divine her intent. Was this an insult? Was this a warning? Was this removal of a piece of herself indeed a gift? It was too hard to know.

So instead, Jaida frowned. and dismissed the offer was a wave of her hand. “I think I’ll be fine as I am.”

She couldn’t be sure if there was disappointment or relief behind Winnowil’s eyes as she was lead out of the room and back to her room.

***

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Redhead Ember

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyTue Dec 22, 2020 4:04 am

Sudden burst of inspiration!

Bloodline

Harsh world they came to did not meet expectations,
their magic died down
only one could break through.

The calling within
she answered so swift:

A gift to his children
to be part of the world;
run free with the pack,
and howl to the moons.

Years making circles
within that large circle;
between what was intended,
and what came to be.

And each one they had their spirits break free,
to join all the others
like tiny free birds.

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Tymber

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptySat Dec 26, 2020 4:12 pm

@TrollHammer wrote:

(Snipping three sections)

Dude. That was really well written - from the capture, to Lord Voll's voice, and to Winnowill saying Jaida was "dying" (which I assume to mean, she wasn't immortal like the Blue Mountain, High Ones, etc).

Is Jaida your creation or one of the obscure characters that appeared somewhere in ElfQuest?

Because I feel like I wanna read more about Jaida!

Again, very nicely done.

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TrollHammer

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptySat Dec 26, 2020 10:47 pm

As far as I know, my creation. There was supposed to be a crafted piece to go with the story, but with things going as they have the last few weeks it didnt happen.

Shes the (youngest?) daughter of a splinter of the gobacks, theoretically from before their clensing and still has some wolf blood, but the timing is difficult, its kind of more for fun, but will see what happens. Was going to write more but got busy with other stuff.... But maybe that'll just make it something to write next month?  Glad you liked it, after looking at some of my old writing it didnt feel as... Imaginative? Its fun to explore various characters from different perspectives, see what might be going on outside the main story. They have explored this a lot lately with other stories: you have Kirk and the Big E blasting its way through the heart of the federation, but you dont see what happened to make Harry Mudd the character he was, or find out whats going with a hundred other characters in the wake of their passing... But we have been getting that a lot lately with Han Solo, Mandalorian, Rogue One, and a bunch of others. (I havent been as much of a trek fan over the last decade aa I used to be, so I missed the equivalent ST shows).

Anyway, thanks for the encouragement. Hows your series coming along? You havent quite written them out of their current predicament... Smile Its shaping up to be another epic battle!
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Tymber

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptySun Dec 27, 2020 5:22 am

@TrollHammer wrote:

Anyway, thanks for the encouragement. Hows your series coming along? You havent quite written them out of their current predicament... Smile Its shaping up to be another epic battle!

For this? I don't ever plan ahead. I let the story elements thingie, influence where it goes.
Oddly enough, this month is pretty much last month's with just a few more lines added, to fit all the elements. Just kind of worked out that way.

I feel very detatched to all the characters, for mine. None have a voice in my head. Just going through the motions of writing, just for the sake of writing, with little care for the story, currently. Probably has a lot to do with both my decline in ElfQuest, for the recent stuff (that whole Timmain/Cutter thing... just... horrid... and nothing's shaped up in so long, from official ElfQuest to really capture my attention...)

Most of my energy is expended into drafting adventures for the D&D games I run, which have been very exciting.

But who knows, maybe something will spark here, to make me feel connected again, to these characters like I used to be.

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TrollHammer

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptySun Dec 27, 2020 1:53 pm

I know what you mean, and am right there with you, buddy. But I kind of let the whole "traumatic amnesia" draw me ino its sweet embrace and for me the whole series after the 90s jst hasnt happened. Though I didnt mind Treestump gaining some forging ability, the fishy stories were a little 'soggy and shiny' for me, and... What final quest? A little birdy tells me the wolfriders are still roaming the woods, duking it out against nature.

But Im a troll, and expect trollish things, like the trolls. All this business with the soul swapping and eye meeting is all far too far away from my interests, the trolls are more sensible, and it means more to me how many of the elves there are to pawn off B grade cutlery for a gift of fine deer meat. Havimg them fly off to otger worlds hurts business, so me and my clan jumped on Two-Edge's time transport, circled back and set up shop in Bearclaw's time, to literally relive some of the best years of trade and stories there ever were...

(I do like more story being written, just feel like we are following a different thread of the Scroll than we were shown in the 80s and 90s, like 2008 hit and the storyline got hit with a mack truck, forcing us to exit the highway we were on and take a detour through a rather odd part of a zoo or something, without a route back to where we were going. I was getting a little over silly above, dont take it that I hate EQ or its main features or anything, to the contrary, I sont write much outside of EQ fanfic, so without EQ Id be silent.

Id like to get into RPG, but havent found someone to mentor me in that. I do hope you find what you need to be happy writing for your stonehowl, I'd hate to see a good story die.)
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Tymber

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyMon Dec 28, 2020 4:51 am

@TrollHammer wrote:

But Im a troll, and expect trollish things, like the trolls. All this business with the soul swapping and eye meeting is all far too far away from my interests, the trolls are more sensible, and it means more to me how many of the elves there are to pawn off B grade cutlery for a gift of fine deer meat. Havimg them fly off to otger worlds hurts business, so me and my clan jumped on Two-Edge's time transport, circled back and set up shop in Bearclaw's time, to literally relive some of the best years of trade and stories there ever were...

I've gotten Final Quest, and this current story (Stargazer's Quest)... but I do it just because it's ElfQuest, and I want to support them since they're indie and meant a lot to me.

But for me, it's Original Quest is pure gold - simply perfection. Siege and Kings were good, and I enjoyed them; as I did Searcher (aforementioned Treestump forging) - beyond that, especially where the other writers came in and ran wild - not a fan, overall, and I feel like it broke ElfQuest for me - and now Final Quest and Stargazer's Hunt, is their way of trying desperately to tie all these other titles together, and not really doing it (for me).

@TrollHammer wrote:

Id like to get into RPG, but havent found someone to mentor me in that. I do hope you find what you need to be happy writing for your stonehowl, I'd hate to see a good story die.)

Which RPG? The ElfQuest RPG game? http://tawmis.com/eqroll/
Or just any RPG (like D&D)?

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TrollHammer

TrollHammer


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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyMon Dec 28, 2020 2:29 pm

Any, at this point. Ill check yours out here in a moment. Dont know why I didnt see it.

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Tymber

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyTue Dec 29, 2020 4:18 am

@TrollHammer wrote:
Any, at this point. Ill check yours out here in a moment. Dont know why I didnt see it.

The EQRoll site just leads to the character sheets, map I scanned (super sized!), and a Character Roller I programmed a long time ago.

But if there's ever any D&D (or even the EQ RPG) you want to learn, let me know. These days D&D is my life.

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December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  Ba_tym10
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TrollHammer

TrollHammer


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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyWed Dec 30, 2020 1:49 pm

If you still have the source for that program I would enjoy looking at it, Im always trying to learn more, and "on screen" programs havent been my forte since the 80s.

The link you sent for dnd doesnt seem to be working: https://dndadventurersleague.org/find-a-game/online/ and something seems to be broken in my head, with all the research I have done trying to learn how to do that and forum RPGs and never "getting it". I love exploring stories and ideas of stories with others, so it seems like it would be a fit, but never does.
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Tymber

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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyWed Dec 30, 2020 2:23 pm

@TrollHammer wrote:
If you still have the source for that program I would enjoy looking at it, Im always trying to learn more, and "on screen" programs havent been my forte since the 80s.

The link you sent for dnd doesnt seem to be working: https://dndadventurersleague.org/find-a-game/online/ and something seems to be broken in my head, with all the research I have done trying to learn how to do that and forum RPGs and never "getting it". I love exploring stories and ideas of stories with others, so it seems like it would be a fit, but never does.

I am sure I have the code one one of my external drives - but once I got it to work with Dosbox (so it can run on any Windows or Linux machine) - I just threw it onto one of my external drives. If I can find it - I can send it your way. It was made and compiled using (I believe) PowerBASIC, so it's very simple coding.

And it looks like the Adventurer's League site is having issues - that's the right website - but definitely having a connection time out issue.

So here's some sources for D&D...

https://dnd.wizards.com/articles/features/basicrules

The Basic Rules document is divided into four parts.

Part 1 is about creating a character, providing the rules and guidance you need to make the character you’ll play in the game. It includes information on the various races, classes, backgrounds, equipment, and other customization options that you can choose from. Many of the rules in part 1 rely on material in parts 2 and 3.

Part 2 details the rules of how to play the game, beyond the basics described in this introduction. That part covers the kinds of die rolls you make to determine success or failure at the tasks your character attempts, and describes the three broad categories of activity in the game: exploration, interaction, and combat.

Part 3 is all about magic. It covers the nature of magic in the worlds of D&D, the rules for spellcasting, and a selection of typical spells available to magic-using characters (and monsters) in the game.

Part 4 is about tools for Dungeon Masters. It includes information and stat blocks for monsters, advice for building combat encounters, and magic items.
http://media.wizards.com/2018/dnd/downloads/DnD_BasicRules_2018.pdf


Other info -
https://dnd.wizards.com/basics-play
https://dnd.wizards.com/rules-introduction
https://dnd.wizards.com/races
https://dnd.wizards.com/classes
https://dnd.wizards.com/products/tabletop-games/trpg-resources/trpg-resources


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Yeee

Yeee


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PostSubject: Re: December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art    December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  EmptyWed Mar 17, 2021 5:37 pm

Ok, I should start to put some stuff into the grab bags , because not much happens here anymore and the Grab Bags are half dying.  Even if it was finished too late, it was planned as a contribution for the December Grab Bag.
Then it should also be set here.

Every year in the cold dark season the Sea Raiders gather in " CIRCLES" around the Christmas tree, be it on land or at sea.  Even "A" not so "TINY BIRD" named Aneret from the Harpy elf tribe (founded by accident  by Winnowill and Haken ) finds her way to the sunken Christmas tree and brings a really great Christmas present for Yeee.
Against all "EXPECTATIONS", even the little cat elf girl from the November Grab Bag arrives in a cardboard box soaked in the water.
Areias and Moonlight both have a great "GIFT" for singing and are of course "CALLED" to enhance the festive evening with a first class underwater concert (How are they doing this???).
Well, Sharuk will have to wait for his present until the time is right...but that's ok with him.
December 2020 "Grab bag" stories | poetry | art  Mermay20

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