Writing Contest! (2 New Statues)

[Doc Paterson]

I'm not sure if anyone has noticed, but I've added two new statues to the latest version of Caves of the Basilisk.

http://forums.wesnoth.org/viewtopic.php ... 23#p471823

As I did with the other statues, I'd like to open this up to the players, and hold a little contest. Same rules as the previous, and as before, the inscriptions can be serious, funny, mysterious- whatever you're feeling. Our subjects are:

1. A giant spider

2. a highwayman

In a few sentences, tell us the tale of how each came to be petrified. Some of the previous winners wrote poems about the characters, and I particularly enjoyed that, though a good mini-narrative can also be fitting.

Post your entries right here, in this thread. If you only want to give one of them a go, that's fine. The winner(s) will have their "inscriptions" added to the statues (and committed to the game).

[Ceres]

I'll give it a try.
"When Highwayman Varollyn (has he a specific name yet?) looked for a good place to hide the gold he got pillaging some villages, being hunted by soldiers his victims sent after him, he found a huge cave. There he and some of his men hid, and the soldiers didn't followed them. Even if Varollyn wondered about that, he did not reallly care about it. Later, at night, suddenly a roar sounded through the cave and made the humans shutter. Everybody, except Varollyn, fled, but he stayed because he was still staring at the huge amount of gold in front of him, and he wished he could look at it forever. So Varolllyn didn't notice the sound of a heavy body moving across stone, even the strange feeling as if everything would freeze was not recognized by him. Varollyn found never found out what was behind him, and he is still sitting in the cave, looking at his gold. Although he was never seen again in the human world, his greatest desire was fulfilled."

I'm not a native speaker, so there might be some mistakes in it, feel free to correct.

[jb]

As I did with the other statues, I'd like to open this up to the players, and hold a little contest.

Cool idea.

[Cackfiend]

The itsy bitsy spider went down to the cave.
Down came the Basilisk, and Froze the spider solid.
and the itsy bitsy spider never went down to the cave again.


lol


but seriously, i played a ladder match on the new CotB today vs Demogorgon if you wanted to check it out... i like the new map

[Zerovirus]

Spider, living, without strife
On a flat world its whole life
Never glancing towards the sky
Never thinking, never tried

Creeping flat, scouring filth
Living in its nest of silk
No kin or family, no lost ilk
No thought but to consume its fill

Poisoned water, poisoned flesh
All its days of hunting fresh

Growing old, turning large
Vision eightfold, becoming smart

Until
One day
Finally
It looked

Up

Okay, so anyone got any ideas? My rhyming schemes are a bit banal, and I'm having trouble finding according flows for each line.

[Astoria]

"In his time, this spider was the most fearful creature ever seen by men. When he was finally petrified, there was no time for celebration, as men had something else to fear."

[Death]

The itsy bitsy spider went down to the cave.
Down came the Basilisk, and Froze the spider solid.
and the itsy bitsy spider never went down to the cave again.

LOL.



okay, I'll try one:


Outside of the Caves, the forest bandits are always on the move. Few know the true secret of the statues, save for the old children's campfire verse shared among ruffians:

"Don't tarry! Don't linger! Be quicker than danger!
Don't dally, dear stranger, lest you be victim
A highwayman paused, to ponder his laws
...and look at what happened to him!"

[Doc Paterson]

Nice! Keep them coming.....

[Reepurr]

Nice! Keep them coming.....

Sure.

EDIT: Edited the "he see" bit in response to artisticdude's comment
The highwayman fled into the stream
Pursued by ten of the men of the King
He ducked behind a skeletal tree
The men chased, but him they couldn't see

Sounds of the chase, erupting through the cave
Awake the Basilisk, statues to make
Slithered on the floors of stone
Eyes flashing at rock used to be bone

Rocks crumbled, fell from the ceiling
Sending the brave soldiers reeling
Then they fled, highwayman rejoiced
Saw the basilisk, he had no choice

Fled through the caves, fled fast
But the Basilisk, it slithered past
And the Highwayman fell under the gaze
From Basilisk's eye, he turned to stone

Yeah - I'm not so good at rhyming couplets.

[artisticdude]

Not too bad, except for one part that really stands out:

but he they couldn't see

They couldn't see he? Just replace 'he' with 'him', and you'll be fine. Also, the meter might need some work in places.

I got about 1/4 of the way through mine, and then my meter just wouldn't flow any more. I'll have to try again later.

[UK1]

"<Name> returned late one night to his gang's hideout with his followers. He had just raided a Loyalist convoy that should have been easy pickings, except that he was too impatient and attacked at day when his thieves had a minus twenty-five percent penalty and the enemy guards had a bonus of the same amount so, although he had succeeded in looting the convoy, he had taken heavy losses. "Harrummm..." he said in his gruff, highwayman voice, "Uhm... they were good men... and their sacrifice will not be forgotten... now throw their bodies in the pile with the others while I count my-er, our gold." They could afford to make noise and perform the grisly task because rumors of a terrible beast living in the nearby lake kept the militia a safe distance from the glade the thieves had chosen as a hideout, precisely why they chose it in the first place. While his henchmen were off disposing of their fallen comrades, <Name> found out just how true the rumors of the beast were. Upon their return, his cronies saw nothing but a terrified statue of <Name> with a stone-fast grip on his bags of gold. His silent statue stands to this day, guarding his precious treasure."

If it's possible I'd like his name to be Chauncey.

[Reepurr]

when his thieves had a minus twenty-five percent penalty and the enemy guards had a bonus of the same amount so, although he had succeeded in looting the convoy, he had taken heavy losses.

That bit made me .

No suggestions, it's a brilliant piece of informal (and silly) prose.

[Atz]

For the highwayman:

The price of theft
is often a stoning.
But this is what's left
When you steal from the Stone King.

Most prisons are rock
but not like this one.
No door and no lock,
and no chance to run.

No grave and no tomb,
but a memorial still.
This man met his doom,
as all thieves will.

[Matherton]

Having made a web of singular delicacy and beauty, the spider sat down in it, well-pleased. Hours passed. No one came, to admire his work, his destroying masterpiece. The spider grew bored and began to fidget. A fly, seeing this movement, flew away. "Curses!" Thought the spider, "if only I had not moved, I would have done quite well for myself." The spider sat still, pondering this and extracting from it a moral. "To be still," reflected the spider, "is to be fed." He meditated. He pondered many things, none of which shall ever be known. A drop of water fell on him from the rocks above him but he remained motionless. Soon, pondering still more deeply, he noticed that he had, finally, a visitor. A lovely butterfly flapped helplessly in the web, setting all things to trembling. This roused the spider. He tried to move towards his victim, but found that he could not. He had become calcified through the mineral-rich droplets he had allowed to fall upon him. He watched the butterfly a little sadly, almost hoping it would get away, until his eyes too became stone and he saw no more.

Too long, probably, but please use it (or any portion thereof) if you want it.

[Matherton]

This highwayman,
in blush of life,
made a road of gore
for he stole from his wife
a sharpened knife
and saw him she no more.

In bushes he'd wait,
a maiden as bait
screaming her head off nearby.
Gentlemen would come
And they would kill some
and the maiden she never did sigh.

But one black day,
in the Ides of May,
an old lady wandered alone
they sprang out and got her
and as she was slaughtered
she told them they'd have to atone.

If in need ye were,
you ugly old cur,
then you could take til sated
but since you've grown fat
on crime and all that
for doom ye surely be slated.

And as the blood flowed
and the body was stowed
in some convenient location
the highwayman felt
from his ears to his belt
the comeuppance due his vocation.


------
get it? Slated? Like, slate.... is a rock... groan!
anyway, it is yours, if you want it. If you like it but think it needs improvement, I'd be more than happy to revise it.