Tag Archives: fantasy

Space for Writing

by Jeremy Kerns

I see that in the past 6 months, I’ve written two posts and both have been on the rather… sad side of things. So, maybe I should try to finish out the year with something a little more light-hearted.

Writing

Once again I missed NaNoWriMo this year as I had a few things on my plate that made writing pretty low on my list. So, I found myself inspired just after the end of NaNo to finally jump into something and turned to my fellow Thotplacer and indefatigable wordsmith Bob McCoog to participate in a personal challenge of our own. And please understand, this trooper had just completed his NaNo book when I proposed this little war of words.

To make a long story short (or, now that I think about it, I might actually be making a short story longer…), on December 4th the two of us embarked on a mission, inspired by an article on io9.com that can be found here regarding The 10 Rules for Space Operas. The task is simple: a minimum 75,000 words, a maximum 2 months (ending February 4th), and the space opera story we write must include all of the article’s rules.

It’s been 11 days so far and I, for one, have been enjoying the experience of this writing challenge. Space opera would not have been my previous first choice for a novel, but I’ve found it to be really fun nonetheless. I started off strong with my word-count-per-day, but have slowed down some since for various reasons, putting me at a total of just under 17,000 words at this moment.
Post-combustion

Anyway, that’s what we’re doing (among other things). If you’re looking to write and find yourself stuck for an idea, you might consider the same type of challenge for yourself. Or, better yet, take a stab at this particular challenge and see what you end up with. The article is a great tongue-in-cheek list of common space opera tropes and figuring out how to write a somewhat original novel around them has been a worthwhile experience.

And that’s what it’s all about.

(hmmm… it’s been a while since I wrote one of these posts. Feels like I should end it with a clever zinger but I think I missed the mark on the one above. Ah, well, you get what you pay for.)

Reboot to the Prologue Part Three

by thotplaces

The rolling sound of thunder filled the Welsh valley. A front of black storm clouds were slowly rolling in, darkening the midday sun. The townspeople who lived in the valley hurried about with their daily activities. The folk who were heading to market picked up their pace to be able to make it back to their homes in time to stay dry. The farmers looked up from their daily labors in the field and began to head towards their animals to lead them into their respective barns. Life in the area of Caer Aleron was beginning to close down for the weather. For Jared, however, life was just beginning. He stood out on one of the balconies of Caer Aleron and looked out at the population that called him their lord and master.
To those who may have visited the valley, Caer Aleron and the surrounding village looked like a remnant of feudal life. However, this impression would not be farther from the truth. It is true that Caer Aleron was built in the early twelfth century. The stonework of the castle would point this out to even the most novice historian. Instead of it being meant for a knight or some member of royalty, however, it was designed as a place of refuge for a race of people that were deemed outcasts by their society. The villagers and even Jared himself were called Valori, or the Discarded Ones, and had been known as such for many centuries before Caer Aleron was even built.
A gust of wind blew through Jared’s light brown hair, revealing the slightly pointed ears that are a trade mark of his kind. Being the product of elven and human mating, the Valori have one major difference from their mythical kindred- they are born without the ability to utilize magic. It is this difference that resulted in them being cast out from their ancestral home many centuries ago. As the ability to use magic was granted by Numue, one of the Powers that Be, the Valori were declared by the Conclave of Aesirin to be impure and forsaken by their goddess. Being vile in their eyes, the Conclave did not care much for where the Valori went . . . just so long as it was far enough away from them.
But sometimes the problems you push away end up coming back to haunt you, Jared thought to himself with a smile.
The first drops of rain from the incoming storm began to fall lightly across the land. Jared smiled to himself as his hair began to become damp. This rain, he thought to himself, is a sign from the Power that Be known as Lucien. As the Valori were not children of Numue, they were adopted by the dark god as his own. This change in the weather was his way of blessing tonight’s activities and protecting them from any prying eyes or ears. After all, the rain would prevent any Spirit practitioner who would be a spy for the Conclave from dropping in unannounced.
As the Discarded Ones had to find a new life being cast off from the Conclave, they decided to make the most of their inherit abilities. From their elven heritage, the Valori had the ability to move in any environment with a great amount of stealth and privacy. They also had the keen eyesight and bow talent that any elven archer would possess. From their human side, they discovered a love for weaponry and a mind for business. Taking both of these aspects, the Valori started off their new lives as hunters, businessmen, as well as assassins for hire. Anything to make ends meet. But they never forgot about the beauty of the Enclave of Aesirni nor the cold-hearted actions of the Conclave. One day, every Valori had thought at one point in their lives, the Conclave will fall and the Valori will rightfully take back the land that was theirs.
The rain began to pick up in speed and Jared decided that it was time for him to head to the Hall of Meeting. The other members of the High Council should have arrived by now, he thought to himself. He would have to check with the head servant and . . .
“Master Jared?” a voice suddenly whispered in his ear. Jared jumped slightly in the air, being surprised out of his train of thought. It’s almost like he can read my damn mind, he thought as he spun around to see what Allistair, the head servant of Caer Aleron wanted.
Although Allistair was a Valori like everyone else in the valley, he did not have the same beauty characteristics that many of them shared from their elven blood. Or, rather, Allistair may have had those characteristics at one time, but that was more years ago than Jared would dare count. The several small, thinned locks of shock white hair did little to offset Allistair’s sunken in murky blue eyes. Although the Valori often lived two hundred years, Jared always believed that Allistair was twice that age. How he was able to manage that, however, he had no idea.
“Yes, Allistair?” Jared responded, trying to regain his composure from the servant’s odd appearance.
“Grand Knight Ladon has arrived and will be making his way to the Hall of Meeting shortly,” Alistair stated, his dried, withered lips cracking into what Jared could only assume was a small smile. “The meeting can begin with your arrival.”
Jared thanked the master servant and began to pick up his pace, heading down the hallway to the marble staircase. Although Valori tradition dictated that the Head of the High Council was to only enter the Hall of Meeting after every guest has arrived, Jared wanted to begin the meeting to share the news. It was not every day, Jared mused, that someone can promise to deliver the Conclave to the Valori on a silver platter.
It all began a week ago when Jared received a phone call. This was an odd thing to begin with. Although Caer Aleron was fitted with many modern conveniences like electricity, running water, internet and telephones, this was more for show and the occasional meeting of the Council. Jared had spent the last ninety years growing up in his ancestral home and never even knew that there was a phone number assigned to the telephone.
The voice at the other end was not anyone that Jared was familiar with. However, the owner of the voice seemed to know Jared rather well. “Good evening, Master Jared,” a deep, hollow voice said. “I know you may be wondering how I was able to call you on this telephone.” You’re damn right I am, Jared thought. “But, that is not important. I am contacting you with a matter that would be of great interest to the High Council.” Before Jared could interject with any sort of disbelief, the voice continued on, explaining in great detail the news it had to tell. Jared listened, at first in disbelief and then in slowly building wide eyed excitement.
“So,” the voice summed up, after several minutes of explanation, “I would think that the High Council should know of this development, don’t you agree?” Before Jared could respond, the voice continued “I will expect you to call the heads of the council together in one week’s time and present this information to them as well. Do not worry about them believing you or not, I will take care of that.” Jared raised an eyebrow. Since when did this stranger have control over the High Council. And who was this person?
However, before Jared could say or ask anything, the line went dead and all Jared could hear was a dial tone. He spent the night contemplating what had happened and the next morning, sent the word out to the three other members of the council and prepared.
The enthusiasm that had built over the week energized him as Jared bounded down the stairs. He paused at the door to the hall, and took a deep breath to compose himself. He had to present the air of authority that his position gave before he walked in to discuss how he would need their assistance to capture the Chosen One as step one of bringing the end to the Conclave.

Part Two of the Prologue to the Reboot

by bobmccoog

“Hey nerd,” Kevin Parker yelled at Beth as she crossed the street. The short brown haired skinny girl with horn rimmed glasses sighed and looked over at one of the biggest bullies that Upper Sandusky Elementary School had ever seen. She was hoping that she would be able to get through a whole summer without having to deal with his kind.
Beth Walker was not the most popular kid in school. Actually, in the grand scheme of elementary school life, she fell somewhere in between Joe Crosby, the hall monitor and that weird kid that eats his boogers during lunch. She was the youngest child of one of the poorest families in town, which was a fact of life that people like Kevin would not let her forget. However, just because she’s poor didn’t mean that Beth was going to take anything lying down. Her alcoholic father had taught her how to avoid punches and defend herself whenever he was having one of his fits. Her manically depressed mother taught her a love of reading and knowledge whenever she wasn’t curled up in the fetal position in her bed. At the age of ten, Beth was already reading at an eighth grade level. She had just finished the Lord of the Rings for the third time. So, popularity was not Beth’s thing.
“Yeah Kevin?” Beth yelled back. She figured what harm could it be if she went ahead and answered him. Chances are he wouldn’t leave her along if she ignored him. So it would be better if she talked to him first before he would try to terrorize her and she would inevitably have to beat him up again.
Kevin sauntered across the street. The black eye that he got from her last week for trying to steal some change off of the kid who ate his boogers as lunch money. It didn’t happen in school of course. Beth was too smart to fight on the school grounds and get detention. She didn’t want to get in trouble at school and then pay the consequences from her father when she got home. She challenged him to a fight in the woods behind the school that day. He met her there at 3:15 along with his friends and those who supported him because they were afraid of getting their asses kicked by him just on the pure basis of breathing. And in the circle of yelling, screaming kids, Beth was able to duck the punches that he threw like a professional boxer. She then threw a handful of dirt in his eyes. With him being blinded, she kicked him in the leg to bring him down and then pounded him in the face once or twice. Not enough to be able to cause major damage, but enough to get the point across to pick on people who were either the same size or bigger than him. Like with not fighting on school grounds, Beth knew how to get what she needed done without having the risk the anger of her father,.
“I wanted to,” Kevin said as he continued to walk towards her,”thank you for that little dirt fight we had last week.” He seemed to have some glint in his eye of revenge as he looked at her. Beth took a deep sigh. Boys were dumb. They get their butts beat one day, they need to come back the next day to have it beat again to try to prove that their a man. And, at least in Beth’s experience, they were never really successful. As Kevin made a high pitched whistling noise, however, Beth began to see that Kevin wanted to make sure that he was successful this time as opposed to the other boys.
Beth saw three sets of boys seemingly come out almost out of nowhere and were heading towards her. There were three boys coming from around the corner, two who were walking out of the woods that were across the street, and three other ones who were walking out of the local convenience store. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Beth muttered, repeating a favorite line from one of her favorite movies of all time.
“I wanted to thank you so much,” Kevin said again, “that I wanted to have some of my friends help me thank you.” The look of revenge moved from his pale blue eyes down to his face as the corners of his lips curled into a twisted smile. Beth knew that what would happen next would probably not be a very good thing at all. So, instead of being the victim, as she learned how to avoid while living at home, Beth ran off into the direction of the woods. The boys were apparently not ready for this at first, based off of what they knew of Beth. However a moment after she ran, they seemed to regain their senses and ran after her like a pack of wolves looking for their kill.
Beth ran off, heading towards Barrel River where she knew there was an old tree house that kids from another era had bought. If she could get there, she may be able to pull something off. That if was sounding to be a big if however. The sounds of nine sets of feet seemed to be getting closer.
“I’m going to kill you, you little bitch,” Kevin shouted. That sent a shiver down Beth’s back. She had heard those words many times before, but coming from a much older mouth. Kevin knew those words all too well too, and knew the power those words often held as he learned from his own father.
She heard the sound of running water. Barrel River must be close, she thought to herself. She heard someone fall over, probably tripping over the change from smooth ground to a pockmarked topography as they got closer to the river. Beth didn’t have any problems with the geography change though. She had come to this area hundreds of times before. This was her safe little haven from the realities of living at home. This was where she was the queen, and her imagination gave her the power that she didn’t have in her normal life.
She ran down the hill and began to jump over the river. She thought of how she was jumping over the moat to her castle. Normally, her archers that she would imagine would lower the drawbridge and let her pass. However, this was a desperate time. Beth ran towards the large oak tree in the middle of the area that held the tree house. The princess was running to the safety of her castle. Closing her eyes for a moment as she ran, she silently wished that they tall, accurate archers she imagined could save her now.
She could hear Kevin breathing hard as he jumped over the river. Beth didn’t have to look behind her to know that he must be getting closer. As she ran towards the tree and began climbing up it, she could hear him huff and puff as he was on her tail. Only a few more feet and she’d be in the tree house and hopefully safe. However, as her hands got close to the trap door entrance on the floor of the tree house, she felt it.
Kevin grabbed her leg. “Got you now,” he yelled in victory. She felt him trying to use what upper body strength he had to be able to pull her down. If he was able to, she would end up falling about ten feet down. She knew enough about bones from a couple of trips to the emergency room to know that a fall from that height may not end up having a happy ending.
Beth strained to reach up to the next branch. Just about ten more inches, and she could open up the door. She kicked her feet as hard as she could in hopes of knocking Kevin loose. However, the more she fought, the stronger he seemed to get as he continued to pull. The last tug that he gave caused her to almost lose her grip entirely. Then at least it would be over, she thought. No more having to worry about her father beating her up at least once a week. No more having to worry about taking care of her mother when she would fall into the black hole that she normally lived in. No more having to worry about dealing with bullies like Kevin.
Beth closed her eyes as she felt Kevin’s grip tighten even more around her leg. He could hear her struggle to hold on to the branch that she had and knew he could probably make her pay by just yanking hard one more time. Sure he’d probably have to hide a dead body, but he was certain his dad could help him out with that. His dad seemed to always be good at making certain problems disappear.
But that last pull didn’t come. The next thing Beth knew, she heard what sounded like an arrow being shot in a Robin Hood movie. A moment later, she heard Kevin let out a yelp of pain and Beth suddenly felt her leg have a lot less excess weight. She wasn’t going to look down to see what had happened– not yet at least. All she knew now was to climb up, open the trap door, climb through and then close it shut behind her. As she lifted herself up, Beth could have sworn that she heard more arrows being fired and the what sounded like about eight young boys scream in horror.
“You little bitch!” she heard Kevin yell. “You fucking made my hand bleed!” Beth had no idea what Kevin meant, and frankly she didn’t care. She just wanted in the tree house. However, once she hauled herself up in there, Beth was wondering if it was safer with the boys.
Standing at each of the corners of the old wood tree house were tall, lean men dressed in some sort of armor that she had seen in some old movies her dad would make her watch. And they had bows and arrows! They must be the ones who were doing this. Almost terrified to say anything, Beth forgot about closing the trap door. She just stared at what she figured were some weird homeless men who liked armor. It was the sound of Kevin, still cursing and breathing heavy, that brought her back to reality. “I’ll kill you!”she heard him scream.
Before she could slam the trap door shut however, one of the men ran to the opening, bow drawn. Although she couldn’t see, Beth was almost sure that Kevin crapped his pants at the sight of a man in armor pointing a bow and arrow straight down at him. However, all that she heard for sure was Kevin screaming some new words he learned from his father and the sound of some breaking limbs. The man slammed the door shut and latched it.
“All is clear, sire,” the man in the northwest corner said, looking at the one who had just latched the trap door. “The invaders have been successfully repelled.”
“Very good, Aaron,” the door man replied. He turned and looked at Beth. She gasped as she looked into the cold, calculating steel grey eyes that he had. “We live to serve you, your majesty,” he said. The other three men gathered around this man and all three saluted at the same time.
Beth felt complete confusion as well as a bevy of questions well up. Who are you, she wanted to ask. Why are you here? Why did you save me? How did you know about the tree house? Was Kevin dead? What did they want with her? However, before she got the chance to ask them any of these questions, the men somehow vanished almost into thin air. How that happened and what happened next, Beth had no idea. She passed out from exhaustion and terror.
A short while later, a tall dark skinned man scaled the walls of the tree house and landed almost soundlessly on the old creaky floor. He peered over the edge to see if anyone noticed his ascent. Once he felt assured of his safety, he quietly walked over to where Beth was.
The man, known to some as Uncle Luke, checked her body for signs of life. Once he was certain that he felt a pulse, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had been following this young girl for about the last three weeks. He followed her from her house to her school and back. He followed her to this inlet and watched many different creatures and people seemingly pop in and out of reality. What Beth thought was her imagination was actually so much more. And it was the amount of what was ‘imagination’ that intrigued Uncle Luke.
He put his hand gently on her forehead and whispered a few words. He was taking several measures to make sure that the events of today would not be remembered. He knew that this young girl did not come from a Conclave family, and as such her powers would go unchecked without proper training. By causing her to forget, Uncle Luke was taking the appropriate measures to make sure she would not become one of the Lost Ones and have to be hunted down and brought to justice later.
Once he was certain that all the proper steps were taken, Uncle Luke, or Lucio Caldera as he was known by the Conclave, made one final gesture above the sleeping child, opened up the trap door entrance, and scaled the tree back down to the bottom. His last action was to ensure the ritual of tracking was complete, so that way the child could be monitored and tracked until she was needed again in the future. Once he reached the ground, Lucio sped away from the inlet and jumped over the river. His time in Ohio was done for now. He had to head back to New Jersey and help continue training and educating young Grey Allen to prepare him for the time to come. If he was truly who Lucio thought that he was, then Grey needed as much preparation as possible.

Nailing a Fairy- Part two

by bobmccoog

Spanish Fairy

Wednesday was like any other normal day at the office. Board room meetings were held, phones were answered, deals were made and money changed hands. Kevin Parker had something more important on his mind then the day to day operations of modern capitalism. He wanted to check on his neighbor to make sure Dave was doing okay.
The two of them had worked in the same office building since Dave and Rebecca had moved in to town. Dave’s desk was on his way to the elevator, so this gave Kevin a perfect excuse to check on his neighbor without being overtly concerned. However, Kevin felt that showing concern was now called for. Dave hadn’t been to work in the last two days since Kevin talked to him in his garage. Kevin had knocked on his door a couple of times and even looked outside while he was watching television to see if he had opened his garage door. He had not.
However, Dave was at work today. Kevin saw him amble in this morning, but he looked . . . different. He looked like he was only partially in this world while whispering to some unknown entity in another world. Dave had a couple of days scruff growing and looked like he had not slept in a couple of days. Kevin knew crack addicts on the side of the road that looked better than Dave did. Those morning images were playing through his head when he walked by Dave’s desk.
“Hey Dave,” Kevin beamed, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. “Where’ve you been, you slacker? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days.” Continue reading →

Nailing a Fairy- Part One

by bobmccoog

A resin statue of a Fairy in natural surroundi...

“Where are you, you little fuckers,” Dave muttered to himself. He sat in his folding lawn chair in his garage staring at the wall. Along the wall were several rat traps. These little beasts had been torturing him for about a week now and he had finally decided that enough was enough. He was going to show them who was king of this castle and put an end to it. He looked at his watch and saw that it was slowly approaching eight o’clock. It should be dinner time for them soon.
“Hey Dave,” Kevin Parker shouted from the end of the driveway, looking at his neighbor sitting and staring at nothingness. “What’re ya doing tonight?” He had been worried about his neighbor since Dave’s wife had let him about two months ago. They had seemed to be such the perfect storybook couple but somehow that storybook couple had a horror movie ending to their relationship. Dave seemed like he was doing fine, but having spent the last hour watching his neighbor sit in his garage staring at nothing, Kevin decided that he had to check on him. He wanted to make sure that Dave wasn’t going to do anything crazy.
Dave took a drink from his beer and looked down at his neighbor. “Just doing a little rat cleansing, Kev,” he shouted back. “These little fuckers have been dropping turds all around my house and chewing on my clothing for a week now, so I figured it’s time to exact a little vengeance.” Dave smiled a grim smile that conveyed how much he would enjoy being the Rat Destroyer.  Continue reading →

The Magic Candle

by bobmccoog

The Hall of Assembly was one of the most ancient gathering places in all of the land. Built during the Time of Dreams, the hall was where the first gathering of men and other folk occurred as they began to lay out the rules for the world that they had awoken to. In this room, the first High King, Athelard of the Humans, had been crowned and all had pledged their allegiance. The columns that supported the marble dome almost looked like their were hewn by the dwarves, as they were well known for their stone work. However, the hall had come into creation long before any dwarf had awoken and walked the world. Some other force had created this room. Those who spent time in here could tell from the first few minutes that the room was enchanted by some magic or another that was older than any spell known on this plane of existence. It was because of the history of this room that seven wizards chose this place as where they were going to save everyone from the evil that walked it. However, the blood that stained the columns would give a casual observer the understanding that old magic does not always protect people.
Ricros Mongothsbeard, the leading wizard of the realm, slowly gathered up his personal belongings from around the room. The candle, a large white magical device of entrapment created by the woodland elves, stood in the center of the room. Inside the flame, Ricros could catch the occasional glimmer of a malevolent face. This, aside from the blood and dead bodies around the room, was the only sign of a job completed successfully. But at what cost? He looked over to the spot where his beloved Breatra Joysword, the Protector of Magic and Guardian of the woodland elves, stood while chanting the words to the capturing ritual that the heads of the Assembly had assisted with.

Everything started perfectly fine. The ritual was led by all seven leaders of the Assembly, each with their own incantation or chant to lead while they extracted the essence of darkness from the Dark One and entrapped him within the flame. However, He had somehow learned about the plan, or had some way to summon his minions because in what seemed the blink of an eye, everything had taken a horrible turn. Insted of one demon of evil, the seven had to face what seemed an army of skeleton warriors, orcs, and other unimaginable evils. The fact that Ricros was the only one still alive was a testament to the fact that some other force interceded to help them in the battle. The bodies of the other six members lay bloodied about in the room, some with all of their proper appendages, others not so lucky. And through it all, Ricros was the only one left to tell the tale.

He sighed as he gathered up the Books of Enchantment. Although the demon had been successful entrapped, Ricros needed to return to tell the members of the Assembly of the deaths that had occurred and to set up a group that would have to maintain a place in the Hall of Assembly. The candle would only last at best a month, and if the flame had somehow gotten extinguished then the magic would end. The Dark One would be trapped with the only person left to serve him – his lonesome self- for the rest of time, or until the candle had died out. Thus the need for a group to maintain the candle was obvious.

The minstrels of the land would sing the tales of bravery of these seven, once Ricros returned. Evil had been vanquished and there was a new-found peace throughout the land. However, if the Assembly did not act quickly, that peace would be very short-lived. Ricros looked at the layout of the room one last time. Being a gnome, the room was large to begin with, considering his size. However, considering how the fate of the world lay within this room and the actions that needed to be taken in it, it began to seem quite cavernous. He ran a hand through his white hair, his badge of pride for his one hundred and fifty-seven years of life he had lived thus far, and sighed. He longed for a glass of the fine port the human high lord had given him years ago. A glass of port, a warm fire to drink it in front of and . . . Tears began to well up as he looked over at Breatra. She would not be able to join him as she did every night when he would rest in front of the fire. But there was no time to dwell on what would not be. He looked one more time at the face he would never seen again, and with a way of his hands, he was gone.

PUT YOUR SCIENCE IN MY FANTASY

by Jeremy Kerns

If Star Wars ranks in the top five of your favorite science fiction works, deduct 12 points.

It may be that THE one element to set humans apart from all other life on Earth is pattern recognition. From language to art, tool usage to the ability to identify others, pattern recognition is the underlying skill that makes it all possible. A side effect of this predilection is the tendency to WANT to find patterns in our world – to make sense of the things around us. One way we do this is by categorizing.

Categories can be quite useful, both in our ability to understand things within the proper context, as well as to make us feel like those things are a part of an orderly, understandable world; not a universe of chaos. But, sometimes, those categories are simply academic and may not serve us as well as we think. The downside, of course, is that believing that everything must fit into certain categories, with specific criteria, limits our ability at times to see those things for what they really are.

Okay, enough ambiguous generalizations and high-brow rhetoric about the human condition. Let’s get more specific. A disturbing trend I see in genre fiction is to divide fantasy and science fiction along arbitrary lines of magic and machines, monsters and space, Pangaea and dystopian futurescapes. The de facto litmus test for inclusion in science fiction appears to be: it’s set in the future, it includes technology we don’t have now, it takes place in space and/or it has aliens in it. Instead, our definition should be more in line with what science fiction is truly intended to be: a fictional story with at least some scientific fact at its core.

And that’s where some of you lost 12 points. Star Wars is a fantasy tale. Yes, it’s set in space with aliens and spaceships, but the story has no real scientific fact at its core. Nor does it need any science to tell its archetypal story. It’s a story about a hero, wandering through fantastic lands filled with strange and wonderful creatures, wielding his sword and tapping into his sorcery-like powers to wage war against the dark forces of evil sweeping over the lands. It just so happens that much of this takes place in space, with lots of spaceships and robots.

But this is more than just a geeky debate or a desire to start a flame war with Star Wars devotees. This is about the potential for more, even greater tales. For once we all get back to the idea that fantasy tales can take place in space, or involve robots, or be set in the crumbling post-apocalyptic remains of a future Detroit, we’ll have that many more enjoyable tales. Or when we realize that science fiction tales can take place in the past (imagine the early 1900s if Babbage’s Analytical Engine had been built in the 1860s), perhaps we’ll see all new ways of seeing how science can alter our perception of the world.

So let’s break out of our neatly categorized boxes we’ve created. Let us throw off the shackles of our recent history of fantasy discrimination. My invocation to all fans of genre storytelling, creators and consumers alike, is that we worry less about how we define those stories, and more about where those stories can take us.

Gareth’s Last Stand- Part Four

by bobmccoog

“And that’s all I have right now,” Bill said, looking around the conference table.

“So,” Mr. Hammersmith, CEO of Excelsior Films said,”you have a group of teenage boys playing Dungeons and Dragons who are controlling all of their actions?”

“Yes sir,” Bill responded.

Mr. Hammersmith closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. “That is either the greatest idea in the world or the dumbest thing I ever heard of.”

“So does this mean,” Bill spoke slowly,”that ya’ll will agree to backing the movie?”

Mr. Smith, Mr. Hammersmith’s assistant stood up and glared at Bill. “How dare you be so presumptuous you simple man. Mr. Hammersmith will make his decision when he is . . .”

“Sit down Gareth,” Mr. Hammersmith snarled. “I don’t need to be spoken for.”

Mr. Smith lowered his head, looking as if his dog was hit by a meteorite.

“I will buy the rights,” Mr. Hammersmith said, looking at Bill as he stood up to pour himself a cup of coffee from the executive coffee machine,”if you tell me how it ends right now,”

Bill couldn’t believe his luck. Finally, after spending years living out of his Datsun, here was the light at the end of the tunnel. However, the last sentence finally hit him as it floated across the table.

“Right now sir?”

“Yes right now.”

How was Bill going to pull this out. He spent three years coming up with this story, writing every night stoned out of his mind or tripping on peyote. How was he going to pull this off?

Suddenly, genius struck him like a ninty mile an hour fast ball.

Gareth’s Last Stand- Part Three

by bobmccoog

“So let me understand,” Gareth said to the boys,”you young men were playing a game in which you were controlling mine and Mathren’s actions?”

Larry nervously pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Um, ye . . yes your ma-ma-majesty,” he stammered in reply.

The boys, Gareth, and Mathren all in Mathren’s tent, about 300 yards away from the field of battle. Shortly after their unusual entrance, Mathren and Gareth both decided they needed an explanation of what was going on. Two of Mathren’s lamia and two of Gareth’s Royal Guard escorted the boys to the tent until common sense was reached.

“And this game,” growled Mathren,”determines our actions by these . . . dice?” He held an octagonal, a square, and a triangular shaped die.

“Yes sir,” piped up a rotund youth that Larry called Chad. “Actually the twenty sided die is used for when the two of you fight and the three sided die . . . “

Mathren hurled the dice across the tent. “By Ishavra this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.” He glared at each of the boys, the fire of hatred burning deep within his eyes. “Admit it Gareth. Your magicians conjured these boys up to confuse me so you could escape like the coward you are.”

Gareth sighed and ran his fingers through his hair to keep himself from running Mareth through with his sword. “No cousin,” he replied. “As I’ve stated before, these young men are as much a mystery to me as to you.”

The oldest boy, someone named Dan, raised his hand. “Look dude, I really have no idea who the hell you are, where the hell we are, or what the hell is going on. I was down in my parents basement playing with my retard brother Larry because my parents friggin’ made me and while they were playing this nerd-ass game, there was a big bang and then vooom,” he gestured to the area around him,”we ended up here. Do you have any root beer?”

Mathren’s stare conveyed a feeling that did not need to be communicated in words.

Dan sighed. “Whatev man,” and folded his arms.

Gareth cleared his throat. “So,” trying to regain control of the situation,”if this ‘game’ you boys have been playing involves both me and my cousin, and everything that has happened is in that book . . . “

“DM guide,” Larry corrected him.

“Guide,” Gareth repeated,”then, how does this end? Who is victorious in the end?”

“Ummm, well your . . . your lordship,” Larry answered,”we don’t know.”

“What the devil do you mean you do not know,” Mareth growled. He grabbed Larry by the collar and held his face up to mine. “I will slit you from your jaw to your ear you little piece of . . .”

“It’sintheexpansionmoduleIcouldn’taffordtobuy,” Larry poured out all at once. Mathren lowered him to the ground confused.

“You see,” Larry continued, able to breathe again for a moment without fear of his life,”it’s in another gui . . . book. But I’ve been grounded for the last two weeks and haven’t had money to buy the next part of the story.”

“But you’ve been controlling our actions so far,” Gareth said. “If you’ve had this mystical power over us so far, you must know something.”

Larry and his friends all looked at each other. They had to do something. Everyone except Dan had homework due the next morning, and Dan had a basketball game that night. They all just wanted to go home.

Gareth’s Last Stand- Part two

by bobmccoog

As the smoke cleared, the entire group on the field beheld the oddest sight in the world. A table with four oddly clad young men all sitting around. Mathren, seeing an opportunity, grabbed his crossbow, fired at Gareth but missed as the spectacle in front of him began to register in his brain.

“Hold on Barry,” said the shortest of the four, a bespecaled young brown haired man. “You rolled an eight on the twenty sided die, meaning the arrow that Mathren shot bounced of the ground.” He looked up from the book he was reading. “Bad luck, Bar.” He pushed his glasses up with a finger.

The young man he was addressing let out a loud ‘hrumph’ and stood up from his chair.

While this was going on, Gareth and Mathren walked slowly up on the odd sight, staring in amazement. At the time that ‘Barry’ stood up, the two men were about three feet away from either side of the table.

Barry saw Gareth close by and then noticed his surroundings. ‘Larry . . .’ the young man whispered as his party continued their discussion.

‘So Billy,’ said the spectacled young man Gareth assumed was the leader,’what is . . .’

‘Larry!’ Barry said louder, clearing his throat.

‘. . . Gareth going to do in . . .’

‘LARRY!’

‘. . . response. WHAT Barry?’ Larry said as he stood up. ‘What is so important?’

The tall young man pointed at Gareth, who was now several inches behind Larry and let out a low gurgle, as Larry saw the new High King behind him and Mathren in front of him.

Larry looked confused, and then a hint of fear crept over his face as he yelled ‘MOM!’