Thankfulness Writing Quest - 2016

In November of 2017, Cordir once again hosted a writing contest on the topic of Thankfulness.

Quest Note

Task: Participants should craft a story of an event that caused you to count your blessings / give thanks / acknowledge good fortune.
Guidelines: Minimum word count: 500. ONE entry per CHARACTER. Max 3 entries per PLAYER.
Deadlines: Entries must be received by midnight, CST, on Friday, November 25th.
Method of Entry: Entries may be posted directly to this thread -or- emailed to me at Cordir(at)TFCMUD.com or Cordir@hotmail.com if preferred.

Prize:
1st Place: 3 QPs + 150k
2nd Place: 2 Qps + 125k
3rd place: 1 QP + 100k

All entries receive a 50k honorarium.

Entries will be judged by available Immortal Staff. In the case of a tie, my vote as Patroness of Bards will be the tie-breaker.

Lexie's Entry

It was a chilly winter night, and I was cold. So my idea of warming up meant a visit to the Demon Realm. Of course it made perfect sense at the time. It was warm there, and I could visit distant relatives. My Precious DarkClaw was lurking about, but pre-occupied with some “creative vandalizing” of Venom’s coffin. (I didn’t ask, and you shouldn’t either.)

It had been quite a while since my last visit to the Demon Realm, and I couldn’t recall which key opened which room. I was searching for concubines in a cozy abode, and assumed the gold key opened the room I wanted. Imagine my surprise when this I saw:

The Throne Room of the King
[Exits: none]
A half circle of six shining marble pillars rise up out of the gossamer matter
forest, as if supporting the heavens above. Amidst the pillars is a throne.
Next to it hangs a banner declaring to all who the master is. After reading
it, your instinct for self preservation comes alive! Where is the exit out?

(*** OMG a typo! Insert hyphen between “self” and “preservation”!!! ***)

** Return to Scene **

No one has been through here recently.

A large chest sits in the corner. A heavy silver lock hangs on it.
(White Aura) A arcanoloth stands guard.
(White Aura) A arcanoloth stands guard.
(White Aura) A arcanoloth stands guard.
(White Aura) Prince E'krie studies you carefully.
(White Aura) Prince Vordak sneers at your impertinence.
(White Aura) King Ebencaleneezer reclines on his throne.
(White Aura) A arcanoloth stands guard.

Uh oh. Wrong room! They greeted me with violence (reminds you of “blinded me with science,” doesn’t it?):

E'krie *** ANNIHILATES *** you.
You deftly move out of the way of E'krie's attack.
You dodge Vordak's attack.
You parry Ebencaleneezer's attack.
You deftly move out of the way of Ebencaleneezer's attack.
Ebencaleneezer's pierce maims you.

I attempted to silence, dark, jump, and basically save my ass (yes, it could be cute enough to save). But, my curative, protective potions and assorted items were a jumbled mess. And, the King and his princes were too fast and too powerful. Before I knew it, I sure was BLEEDING! Suddenly, my corpse was laying at the King’s feet. He hadn’t even moved from his throne, that’s how pathe…. I was. Er, how vicious he was! And his sons, ugh, the brutes. No remorse whatsoever.

I shrieked, “OMG!!!”

An invisible Immortal said, “ACK!”

Then, like the amazing Goddess She is, my Precious DarkClaw offered me snickerdoodles. I wanted some. But first things first.

When I shouted, “omg snickerdoodles do me no good,” She promptly summoned a snoozing Nicholai from his crypt.

Nicholai cants, ‘no worries, I'll get you in’.

I don’t know about you, but as soon as Nicholai appeared, then courageously made his way to the Throne Room, in all of his undead gloriousness (it’s a word) ….

*** Cue Music ***

** “Holding Out for a Hero,” (by some elf maiden named Bonnie Tyler) begins to play **

Yes, that’s right, I heard:

“I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the morning light
“He’s gotta be sure and it’s gotta be soon
“And he’s gotta be larger than life,
“ LARGER THAN LLLIIIIFFFFE”

Nich gallantly avenged my death, laid waste to the Throne Room, and brought me some pretty baubles too. I thanked him profusely, even swooned in his presence. Then I ran to my Precious’ temple for some yummy snickerdoodles.

I am eternally grateful, and offer many blessings, to my dearest Precious, DarkClaw (my heroine), and Her Kindred Knight, Nicholai (my hero) for saving the day and more importantly, saving my bacon-laden behind.

Pol's Entry

Pol O'Song sat alone at the end of the bar in the Mariposa Cliub sipping an overpriced martini. The pulse of music in the room next door seemed to draw his attention not in the slightest as he gazed into the clear crystal of his drink, admiring the perfectly plump green olive floating around the bell-shaped glass. Pol O'Song was in deep thought.

The bartender casually approaches, leans nonchalantly on the bar with towel in hand, and interrupts in a way that only bartenders are allowed, "Master O'Song, you're not your usual self today. What's on your mind?"

Pol looks up from his drink and gives a wry smile. His grey eyes distant and aching.

"Ahh...just reminiscing. Took a trip to Borea recently and visited the site of my old home. Found this", he said, placing a worn leather-bound book on the bar.

The bartender looked questioningly and raised an eyebrow, not wanting to offend his most regular (and best tipping) customer.

"Oh", Pol said, "I found my old diary amidst the ashes of my old hut. Surprised it had survived the centuries, to be honest".

Pol sighed heavily. "So many things I've lost over the years, except for memories. Those, my friend...those haunt me".

"I'm sorry to hear that", said the bartender. "I'm sure you've seen more than anyone's fair share of destruction, having been there for the breaking and all".

Pol chuckled, "Oh, no, my friend. Death and destruction and conflict? Bah...those pass. Those memories don't plague me. It's the happy times. Those moments of respite in between shared with loved ones. Those give me anguish to no end".

The bartender seemed taken aback by this. "Master O'Song, pardon my ignorance, but...I do not understand. You are pained by happy memories?".

Pol drained his martini in one gulp, plucked the olive from the bottom of the glass and popped it into his mouth in one fluid motion.

"Indeed, this is true. Here, let me show you".

Pol thumbed through the worn diary, opening to pages covered in a progressively more elegant hand the deeper into the diary he went. Finally, he opened to a page and began to read...

Entry 107 - At Filthy's again today. Trying hard to keep out of reach of the city guards. Damn humans are starting to turn on everyone, even their half-kin. Won't be long now before we're all pushed out of Midgard, or so I've heard. Uncle Jacek is rumored to have plans for us and a place where we can start a new life. Maybe I'll go with him, maybe not.

Ran into a strange character today wandering the graveyard trying to find some coins to buy dinner. Odd man, elven, I think, but was hard to tell. He asked me why I was defiling graves. Not in a hey-I'm-going-to-turn-you-in sort of way but seemed...almost...like he actually cared why I was doing it. I told him the truth - I was hungry and needed coin for food. Next thing I know, he's handing me a purse full of gold. I didn't even have time to ask his name and by the time I looked up, he was gone.

So, now I've got bread and mead for the day and I'm not in a cell. It's a good day.

Entry 126 - The money that strange man (elf?) gave me is gone now. Lasted a good long while, but that poor beggar on the stoop of Filthy's was in such bad shape, had to give him something. Life on the Common Square can be rough and that poor guy needed someone to look after him. Got into a fight with a vagabond today. Someone tipped him off I'd come into a bit of money. Was a short fight. His nifty bracelet fits me well. Been told is sets off the my eyes.

Entry 131 - That strange man came back today. Finally got his name. Sinclair. The legendary Sinclair! I was walking around outside of Midgard and he showed up to have a chat. He kept asking me about magic. What do I know of magic? I'm just a sneak thief. Another of the faceless poor people living in the slums of Midgard just trying to make my way in the world. And this guy is talking to me about magic. When he left, he told me to look up a friend of his named Jack. Gonna do that tonight when I can slip past the guards at the gates easier. Things are heating up around here.


Entry 241 - I've learned soooo much in the last few months. I can fly! I can weave the air around me to protect me from harm. I've learned to extend my vision to see magic! I've spent a lot of time with Sinclair lately. He's shown me so much. The world is vast! So much bigger than I ever thought it would be.

Entry 250 - I met a few other people that follow Sinclair. Well, people is a loose term for some of them. Giants! And a wonderfully kind priest named Jaxxon. We've traveled, explored, helped the masses, battled some horrible despicable creatures. Oh...and I've gotten rather well off. Despicable creatures often have stashes of gold.

Entry 375 - We scored a massive victory today. The followers of Madman had overtaken the holy shrine protected by the Dwarves and stolen the ancient Excalbur. 3 of us tracked down the thief and took it back to it's rightful place and in the process slew Jander, a cunning and vile warrior who terrorized the land. It's a good day. The feast afterwards was incredible as well. There's this concoction called a Martini. Oh, praise Sinclair! It's the most amazing thing I've ever tasted. Need more of these. I got the recipe. Going to see if Filthy can whip them up for me.

Entry 450 - Another good day today! I slew 2 dragons who were terrorizing the lands west and east of Midgard. Also, my dear friend and compatriot Cyrix has risen to the ranks of the immortals! Soon he will join Sinclair and Jaxxon and lead his own following. Naturally, we had another feast and I was introduced to yet another bit of finery I had no idea existed - these rolled tubes of pipeweed that you light on fire and draw the smoke into your mouth. Such a rich taste! I shall name them in honor of two of my favorite Giants - Cyrix and Thaygar - and call them...cigars! Add to that, I've achieved adept status as a mage! I can move through the realm without being seen. I can even instantly transport myself to any place I had already been. It's incredible!


Entry 702 - I can't believe he's gone. Sinclair called us all together. At first, I thought it was for another mission. I'm a master mage now and he's entrusted me with many dangerous and important tasks, all of which I've been more than happy to fulfill. But, no. This was not one of those moments. He simply said "Good bye" and gave us his blessings. Told us to continue the work he started and then faded from view. I found that I could call out to him in prayer whenever I needed to. I cried out in my head "Wait! Lord Sinclair! Please don't leave us!"...silence. I had grown so accustomed and been comforted by his gentle, wise, counsel that the void absolutely aches. I'm lost now. What next?

Entry 707 - The following is well and truly disbanded. Lazarus, Godzilla, Eni...all gone their separate ways. I've never hurt like this before. My eyes water for no reason. The center of my chest feels hollow and achy. I have no idea what to do today, or tomorrow, or the next. To make matters worse, We half-elven have been thrown out of Midgard. I'm living in a tent. A tent! I'm a master mage living in a tent! Every face here is strained and worried. Can't say as I blame them. I know that Sinclair would want me to stay here and help the settlers? Refugees? but there is help aplenty. Jacek has hired mercenaries to secure the boundaries, there's a wizard that's taken up shop here. These people will survive. I've heard they discovered a new land far to the south across the sea. Safehaven, it's called. Maybe I'll go there. Every place in this land hurts to look at. I see the fields where we battled evil. The halls of learning where I perfected my craft. The streets and rivers where I spent a human lifetime wandering and doing Sinclair's work. Every time I open my eyes another memory floods in and I hurt. So many of my brethren are gone. I see their faces in ever trail, in the woodsmoke from the Inn's fire. Every moment is a reminder of what I've lost and I just can't take this anymore.

Pol looked up from reading and gave a slight smile as he noticed a fresh martini had been put in front of him.

"So," he said, "I see those faces every day. The ones that have left this world.The laughter I will never hear again. The wisdom of their words and counsel forever gone. I've heard a word for it...grief, I think it's called. I am tired of grief".

Pol slumped on his barstool and resumed staring into his martini, silent.

The bartender shook his head with a small smile. "Master O'Song? After Sinclair, did you not also follow Tel? My pardons if the question brings you pain".

"No, it's quite alright," Pol said. "Yes, I followed Tel. And we had some grand times then as well. But he, and Keller, and so many others are gone now too and I grieve their loss as well."

"And after Tel, you followed the Great Lady of Fate, yes?", the bartender asked.

"Yes, I have followed her also. Those were fine moments that are gone too, never to be reclaimed". Pol sighed and plucked the olive out of his martinit, gave it a slight squeeze, and put it back into the glass to marinate more. "Not quite ready," he murmured.

"Master O'Song, may I ask you a personal question?", inquired the bartender. Pol nodded, distracted by a glistening drop of gin that rolled down the edge of the glass.

"Would you have been better off staying in the slums of Midgard and living your entire, and certainly short, life there? Would that have made you happy?"

Pol gave the bartender a quizzical look, stammered for a moment, then fell into silent thought.

"No," he said in barely more than a whisper. "No, I would not have traded any of those grand moments, even to spare me the pain now."

"I'm just a simple bartender, Master O'Song. Not a powerful adept like yourself. I hope I have not offended, but seems to me that you have lived a life few in this realm could even imagine, let alone appreciate. You've fought demons, dragons, ogres. You've helped so many. You've well and truly *lived*, sir. At least, that what it seems to me ,beggin' your pardon for saying so. I know it huts you something terrible, sir, but...maybe you've also had plenty to be grateful for to go along with the grievin'".

The bartender returned to absently polishing glasses as Pol fell into silence. After a few moments, Pol lifted up on his barstool and shot a wry grin at the bartender. His face alight with mischief and energy.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Lazarus and I fought the very gods themselves?".

Sprauwt's Entry

RUN DWARF RUN
by Sprauwt


Insanity.

That's what this is. Plain and Simple. Insanity. What twisted immortal dreamed up this sadomasochistic quest? I swear by Tynian's teats if I make it out of here alive I'll send my dwarven foot straight up that immortal's arse. Is she still behind me? Damn it! Now where is she?

Run! Just keep running!

AMMQs they all ask for. AMMQ. Ammmmmkewwwwwsssss. Sick perverts. The hell with Ammmmkews. This hurts. I don't want to die. Not to this jester whore. I died in that keep 20 years ago. Not happening again. Where did she go?!

Run! Keep running!

Oh Syla would it be nice to have you around. Oh! Damn! I heard something. What was that?! The jester whore? Damn! Damn! Damn! Where is she?

Run! Keep running! Run!

I come back after 20 years and my immortal has left the realm. Where did she go? Where do immortals vanish to? How can you be immortal if you no longer exist? I'm rambling. Focus! Need to focus on staying alive!

Run!

Crap! Who turned out the lights? I can't see! It's so dark! Who did this? Damn you mages! Damn you to hell! Where do I go? Where? I can't see!

Run! I can't see! Need to keep running!

OH GOD MY FACE! Who put a wall here? I'm bleeding. Blood. Out of my face. Tree. It's a tree. I ran into a tree. OH GOD THE PAIN! Blood. Everywhere. Heal. I need to heal. Not feeling good. What was that?! WHO'S THERE?! I HAVE AN AXE!!

I can't run. Not now. My face hurts.

OW! GOD! OW! NO! OW! STOP! HITTING! ME! PLEASE! Pretty please? Why can't I dodge? C'mon just parry something. OW! Dodge. Please. Parry. Stupid useless skills. GAWDFUNNIT! OW! OW!

Run! Run from the pain! Run towards the light! Don't stop running.

Light! Sweet light! I can see again. Okay. Heals. I need some healing. No! Not that kind! What's wrong with me? I need to get my dwarven head out of the gutter. FOCUS! Okay. Wait? Why is it so unusually quiet? I can't cast anything! I hate mage spells!

Pebbles! I have some. Somewhere. Not in my net. Not in this bag, Not in this one. Not this one. Not this one. Nope. Not this one. Here they are! How many do I need? 6? Hell, grab them all. Oh thaAIIIIEEEEEEEEE! How could she have found me already? Damn this priestess. TAKE THAT!!

Run! Run dwarf run!

DWARVEN ARSES! Did I just unload all my pebbles at that psychotic witch? I did. Damn me. Damn this game. Damn life. Damn you immortals.

Run. Keep running. Please little legs don't stop moving.

I hurt all over. Hurt bad. Very badly hurt. I'm so cold. I'm shivering. What is wrong with me? I don't know how much longer I can keep running. Why won't she stop chasing me? Please stop chasing me. Why all this violence? Why can't we just get along? I'm bleeding everywhere. It's so very cold.

Run. Just a little farther. I can hide there.

It's not so quiet here. Good. I can heal myself. Finally. My tongue! What is happening to my mouth! I can't form words! Who did this? You! Please. Leave me alone!
Blisters. Sores. Exploding all over me. That bitch plagued me!! Please…the pain. Oh the pain. Let me die. Please let me die. I want to die. I need to.

Can't run. No more running. Die here. Now.

My temple! Oh sweet Syla I've died and returned to my temple. It's over. It's all over. The nightmare is over. My corpse? It's here. I have my corpse and everything is still here. It's over. It's all over. Calm down. Breathe. Slowly. Breathe. I should get dressed. Wait! What is that on my arm? Why are blisters forming? IT HURTS!! NOOOOOO!

My temple! Wait? What just happened? I died? Again? My corpse? Nothing? Where's my corpse? What!? More blisters! ARRGHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh.

My temple! What is going on? My corpse? Where is it? More blisters! Potion! I need a potion. Get a potion. In my corpse! In a corpse. In a aARGHHHHHHHHhhhhhh.

My temple. I'm in hell. I've landed in some dwarven circle of hell. Quick cast heal! My tongue! I can't talk! I still can't talk. Potion! In my corpse. In a corpse. In a corpse. In a corpse. In a…blisters. Damn it.

My temple. Damn my temple. Damn ammkews. Damn the immortals. Damn everyone. Damn me to hell. Wait? Who is that? Is someone here? Please. Help…

My temple. Help me. Someone. Anyone. Blisters. Wait! They're gone! The blisters are gone! Who's here? Are you here? Help. My tongue. I can't speak. Help me. It's free! I can speak again! I'm cured! Whooo hoooo! I'm saved!

Oh thank you immortal. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.

I love this place!

Allanon's Entry

BETTY - Entry by Allanon

Your soul rift *** DEMOLISHES *** a MASSIVE, enraged, DANGEROUS turkey.
A MASSIVE, enraged, DANGEROUS turkey is DEAD!!
You receive 200 experience points.
You hear a MASSIVE, enraged, DANGEROUS turkey's death cry.
You get 1814 gold coins from the corpse of a MASSIVE, enraged, DANGEROUS turkey.
You split 1814 gold coins. Your share is 606 gold coins.
The corpse of a MASSIVE, enraged, DANGEROUS turkey contains:
a glowing golden feather
( 9) (Token magic) a ball of bright yellow light
(Token magic) a spell score

---

I slew the turkey for its golden feather, having come across it by chance just outside the Chapel of Kharad-Delving. It had fought hard and well, and it occurred to me that its corpse might make an excellent zombie. It did. I named my new companion "Betty," and something in the way that it positioned itself before me, something that seemed to say "none will ever harm you while I am near," made me feel that it was proud to carry this name. For that devotion and for the other things I describe here, I am thankful for my brief time with Betty.

We fought our first battle together in the Great Eastern Desert, where with brutal efficiency my guardian smote the large sandy-gray cat that attacked me. When the dust settled, the feathers of Betty’s undead head had taken on a martial aspect – reminiscent of a mohawk. Betty made no move to correct this, and in that I perceived that Betty loved the fray. I smiled at Betty’s fighting spirit.

Later it was with steady vigilance that Betty watched over me as we flew together over Loch Raven in search of more of those feathers so coveted by the gods. Far from complaining, Betty made the mundane exercise seem more fun by the way it let its lower jaw hang at a playful and jaunty angle. I laughed out loud.

We continued deeper into the Southern Continent, all the way to Candlespyre Mountain, and the fearless ferocity with which Betty defended me against an aggressive, powerful roc brought tears to my eyes. Such courage!

But my heart was growing heavy. My turkey hunt had been fruitless ever since Betty's creation, and time was passing. Then Betty proved her worth once again. My bodyguard turned toward me with a flat stare and silent drool-covered mouth, a gaze that seemed to say, “Listen, Al, why not head over to Rowan Bay? Didn’t you say you had seen turkeys there before?” Wise Betty!

And Betty was right. In that very body of water, we soon came across a large and angry bird sporting a precious crimson feather. Betty watched impassively as I dispatched the fuming fowl with repeated stabs. Sweet victory!

And then it seemed that fortune had smiled upon me once again, as the strange sahuagin ship Te'nayu'ka chose that moment to pass close by. “Come, Betty” I said. “I need to buy some pebbles of schist.” Follow me inside Betty did, and soon my purchases were complete. But when I disembarked from the submarine, I found that Betty was no longer with me. Confused, I returned inside. “There you are!” I exclaimed in relief. But no matter what I said or did, Betty would not leave the great boat.

With growing despair, I cast about for understanding. Had I asked too much of Betty when I eviscerated a member of its former kin before it? Had Betty been tempted by the excitement and adventure of sailing the Maelmordian seas? Did Betty like the smell of fish? My former guardian refused to say, and our wordless connection seemed broken. And so, with a heavy heart, I said what I needed to say.

“Thank you, Betty. Thank you for your devotion, your strength, your bravery and your spirit. Thank you for your companionship and your wisdom.”

And then I said goodbye.

I never saw Betty again.

Mugen's Entry

I find myself being thankful a lot lately, but recently i stared death right in the eyes, and it gave me chills to my bones. Me and some old friends like to play a game called Elven Roulette. This is when you and another take turns teleporting till someone dies.

*poof* I see a family of ogres feasting on a small elven child. And I know the question you're probably asking yourself-- no i didn't help. <BR> <BR> <nowiki>*poof* What a view, the sun rising over the southern mountains with a great big flock of birds flying over. No danger, keep moving. <BR> <BR> <nowiki>*poof* Orcs, they charge at me, but let’s be honest, they are no match for Mugen McLovin.

*poof* I see a fisherman casting off in search of his next meal. I give him a nod, and move on.

*poof* A Rust Dragon upset that i woke him up from his slumber. I dodge his fire, and finish him off with a blow to the head with my trusty Spear. I even got a cool Rust Dragon Orb as a memento.

*poof* Centaurs Bathing in a stream. This might get my excited if I had hooves. Next

*poof* a Hafling Farmer feeding his pigs. Mmmm thats gonna be some good bacon soon, I made a marking so I can eat well after this game is over.

*poof* The Master of Magic is standing over me with a really pissed off expression. I quickly force all sounds from the room and dispel his protection. I leap out of the the way of the way of his attack, and stumble onto the ground. He puts his foot on my chest and at this point i think im done for. I forcefully push his foot off my chest, flip up to my feet, and eat a handful of healing pebbles I bought on this exotic ship that can go under the sea and the battles ends with my spear going through his skull.

The Master of Magic is DEAD!

I am thankful. After the Battle I returned to the Halfling farm, killed the whole family and ate bacon for weeks. I am so thankful!

Quest Results!

My fellow immortals cast their votes. First and second place were clear. Third place was a tie, which I broke.
First place: Allanon
Second place: Mugen
Third place: Sprauwt
Fourth place: Lexie
Fifth place: Pol