The Original Character Alliance (ANYONE WANT A NEW CHALLENGE???)

Write a story, or at least part of one, Baron_Fel.

 

Anybody else interested?

And by the way, for those involved in my being stupid yesterday, I'm sorry.

I'm going to try and do three excerpts for the challenge. One which features a Jedi Knight, the other a bounty hunter, and the other a musician. All these characters are will be broadcast from other OC's points-of-view.

The challenge will end August 4th. Is that too long? Too short?

 

Ugh, I am so glad now that I should have a free night to myself where I can work on posting my OC stuff to this thread, though that still remains to be seen. The day is young yet. I like the idea of a challenge, I just don't know if I can find the time to actually participate...

~~Jilly

 

Most of the challenges I've seen run a month. This one started partway through the month so the fourth sounds about right to me.

lordmaul13

 

Anyone want another week? I'm flexible.

 

I'd love one. I'm not called The Queen Of Plot Bunnies for nothing. I have TEN--yes, 10!-novel-length plot bunnies that haven't even been written yet, plus the ones that are already going, and several viggie ideas. My muse is a busy person. As a result, so am I.

 

Happy to oblige, Darklighter... the challenge deadline is now August 11th.

 

It's not that I don't have any ideas, I do. Just too darn many of them and no time to write em down! The story I'm going to write for the challenge'll be the Jedi trail of Ryqik and Kita's grandfather, Raqak and Flik's Master, Naja, I think. Can it feature more than one OC charactor?

 

C-h-a-r-a-c-t-e-r (Sorry, pet peeve of mine. ask my friends. I drive them nuts. )



I'm sure it can have whatever characters you want. Challenges are generally free-run things; you can let your imagination do whatever it wants as long as you stay within the intended guidlines. I write to challenges a lot. (See my bio for the fic "I Will"...that was a challenge.)

 

Yes, more than one if it pleases you. If it wasn't that way then I'd be completely SOL.

 

SOL?

I may have this viggie sooner than expected. Suddenly I'm getting all kinds of ideas for it.

 

(Inappropriate word) Out of Luck. I sort of forgot what it stood for when I used it.

 

We'll pretend it stands for So Out of Luck then.

 

Good idea, Yubyub.

 

Here is my little contributions. It is two parts, both feature a new character interacting with previously established characters.


_____________________________________________

"Colonel."

Derlin looked over his shoulder at the Private that had addressed him. "Yes,"

"Dispatch from the front, sir." Private Sanders said, handing over the folder piece of parchment.

Derlin unfolded the dispatch and placed it on the map he had been studying. "Says here that elements of the 9th Brigade have moved farther north than we'd anticipated. What does that tell you Private?"

"Sir?" Sanders was flustered, he was a cartographer, a geologist. Not a field specialist.

Derlin stood up and turned to face the Private. "Sanders, I asked your opinion. What does the 9th Brigade moving north tell you about the next possible move for the Imperials?"

"Sir ..." Sanders began. "I ... I'm a cartographer. I'm not a soldier. I'm not trained in ground force military tactics, Colonel."

"You are correct, you are a cartographer," said Derlin. "And the 9th is moving north. What is the ground like to the north, Private?"

Sanders stood quiet for a moment, thinking back to his study of the layout of this part of the territory. "The northern hills are rather rocky, sir. Very uneven, jagged ground. The hills are potmarked with small craters. And are incredibly steep, and in some cases have staggering cliff faces. It is not very pleasant terrain, Colonel."

Derlin nodded at Sander's assessment of the area. But why would He send some of his best troops into that hellhole? He must have a reason. He's always had a reason. Derlin looked to the map he had been studying.

"He couldn't be!" Derlin thought. "What could he possibly gain? But can I take that risk?"

"Damn!!" Derlin growled, banging his fist into the table making Sanders come near to jumping out of his skin. "Damn, damn."

"Sir?" Sanders asked quietly.

Derlin looked up from his map to the late afternoon sky, clouds coming over the ridge. There would be rain, thunder even. He took out a worn piece of parchment, scratched a few words onto it.

"Sanders, give this to Corporal Page." Derlin said handing over the parchment.

"Sir! What should I tell him, sir?" asked Sanders, as he made his way to the door.

Derlin hung his head wiping his brow. "Tell him Veers took the gamble, and he's sending the 9th Brigade around through the north. He'll know what to do."


____________________________________________


_____________________________________________

General Veers stood at the anterior view port in his forward command centre. The evening sun sending out its last rays as it passed below the mountainous horizon. A line formed in his brow, a dark look in his eye.

"So... they enter the melee."

"Did you say something sir?" asked an NCO, standing near the general.

Veers turned his gaze to the officer, a man in his early thirties with prematurely graying hair. Hair that was, Veers observed, not to Imperial regulation length but hung to the base of the man's neck, covering his ears and the sides of his face.

"I'm sorry, Officer...?"

"Kendaur, Sir. Sergeant-Major, 9th Infantry, Theta company." the officer responded crisply.

"Sergeant-Major Kendaur, I have sent the 9th Brigade northward into the foothills to flank the Rebel's fortified positions in the eastern escarpments of the Quarunia valley. What do you perceive the Rebel response will be?"

"Sir, due respect, but I am a psychologist by profession. I was drafted into the armed services. And against my better judgments I accepted increase in rank because I felt -- as I do now -- that these, these . . . boys, that are being drafted and drummed into service," Kendaur paused. "Too many of these young men are not ready, not nearly ready to deal with . . . let alone face combat to the scale of what is happening now and is sure to come in the future. The rebels will send in their best Spec. Ops man and his hand picked regiment in an effort to b

 

I liked it, Prophet. I think Sanders is right, he's a geologist, not a battlefield commander. And Veers is right, his man, Sgt Major Kendaur may be a shrink but he is a battlefield commander, he just doesn't know it.

lordmaul13

 

*stumbles over canon character and falls into thread.* WOW. What place did I land into here? A challange? Gimme a few days. Hmmmmm a challange.

*wanders around own threads picking over characters.*

this one will do, but this one's gonna be scrapped. *turns over one character, detects signs of rot and throws him back into bunch.* Yikes. When did that happen?

be back in a moment *wonders if she should maybe gives a definition of moment and stumbles over canon character again on way out*

(utters some highly un approriate langue. loosly translates as: piece of slime which has fall off a hutt's tail a few millennia ago and is now in advanced stages of decompostion. Sorry translations from my world to your world language not the best sometimes.)

 

PROPHEToftheCOUNCIL: that was good. Is there any more to that?

Anybody: I'll soon be posting something, after I edit it that is. It's my style, my area of thinking, nearly two pages in Word. I don't know if anybody will enjoy it, but it's worth a whirl. And no it has nothing to do with a Jedi Knight, or a bounty hunter, or a musician like I said earlier. I might try one of those later.

 

Darklighter: Was there a meaning to your most recent post here?

 

*slowly approaches thread, watching for some of those pesky canon characters lying around on the ground.*

Had some spare time this afternoon.

Saway is a small time thief on the world of Klona. (for some unexplainable reason, Grand Moff Tarkin decided to build a palace there. It might have to do with the undefinable worm thingies...)

A Dirty Rotten Day

Some days are bad. Others, well, let?s not mention those. For Saway, the day fell into the third category. Down right rotten and slimier than a Hutt?s tail. It had started with her meeting up with Lory. Never a good thing on a good day, a catastrophe on a bad day. And since today was worse than a bad day, well, most people can imagine the consequences. Of course, there are those who claim that nothing ever happens on Klona, so how could something with bad consequences happen, but hey, honestly, all of those people, never set foot on Klona. Some people think Tatooine?s bad. But as far as sandy wombat hole in the ground is concerned. Klona takes lead.

So now she?d been sitting in the arrest cell for, oh, at least seven hours. Meaning the day was just about over. And the next day promises to be even worse. Not that she blames Lory. He hadn?t known that the speeder he wanted to steal belonged to a rather high up person. Well high up just wasn?t the right term. Or is that high enough for someone like Grand Moff Tarkin? Yeah, yeah, stupid thing, going and stealing the grand moff?s speeder. But hey, what?s a girl to do when a male pleads for help. They can be so cute and innocent when they do that. Almost makes you forget they?re mostly bastards. She couldn?t resist. Now all she had to hope was that the Moff took it rather easy.

The two stormies who eventually came and dragged her from her hole, a small, standard detention cell, urgh, weren?t exactly very talkative. In fact, they did NOT like her talking. They bodily pulled her up to the Moff?s office. A good thing the detention block and the Moff?s office were linked underground. Nothing worse than going out after sunset. Tatooine maybe hot, it may be sandy, but it doesn?t crawl with all sorts of gross and indescribable creatures. Worm like creatures.

On the stairs, on the way up, she caught sight of Lory. She started laughing so hard, she couldn?t walk anymore. He wore standard prison clothes, not the funny part, and went about cleaning up a "Go Rancor, Go" graffiti someone had sprayed on the inner staircase of the moff?s palace. Lory, who not once in his life had spend even an instant considering cleaning up something, was forced to clean someone else?s mess. There was justice out there. Hey, this new day?s gonna be bright and shinny after all.

That is, until the Moff ordered her to clean the front walk, after dark, and using only a small tooth brush, namely hers. This was gonna be a down right dirty rotten day.


********
Brain overheated and had to let of some steam. That's what usually comes out when that happens.

lol

and anybody who does not like this will be sent on a one way trip to Klona to help Saway clean up the side walk. Only personal item allowed is a toothbrush. Oh, and enjoy the flight.

 

Okay so here's my go at my own challenge. This is the first little bit of 'The Resurgent Destroyer', the sequel to The Legend of Black Saber trilogy (or book five of The Legend of Black Saber quintet, whatever you want to call it). Takes place about 1100 years after ROTJ. Warning, it's a bit dark and there's the minutest of spoilers...



Shaan Swongyr had hated the Jedi for as long as he could remember. For thirteen years he had constantly heard about how fanatical and deranged they were, how they pretended to be pious but were really the filth of the universe. All these derogatory comments had come from Shaan?s father Reeant, and the boy believed every slander. The slurs combined had created a very dark empty spot in Shaan?s soul; his hatred for the Jedi was a black hole, attempting to consume him.

The boy knew that the Jedi must have slighted his father in some way, and he felt that it had to do with his late mother, but he could never be sure. The one thing Shaan knew for certain was that they had tried to take him away from Reeant early on in his life. The boy was Force-sensitive and they had wanted to pollute him with their maniacal obsessions.

But Reeant Swongyr hadn?t stood for that, he had blatantly told the Jedi fiends that he would not allow them to taint his son; then he had retreated from society, seeking refuge from the fanatical Order. So for nearly twelve years Shaan had lived on the desolate planet Falcrin, in a weathered fortress that had been abandoned for nearly a millennia. He had never known anyone, except his hateful father.

Often it was lonely for Shaan, but the fortress contained so many secrets. There was an uncountable amount of artifacts hidden about the place. Old data tapes and books had granted him knowledge about nearly every subject imaginable.

How many times had he played the records of the goings on of Falcrin?s one and only Head Family, the Vertineus clan? They?d been a brutal lot (especially the last Patriarch Sideron and his son Kollsvein). Once the servants of a Dynasty of Dark Jedi, the Vertineus?s rose to power, only to be exterminated two hundred and thirty years later.

Not only had Shaan found information about all that, he?d also found things concerning the Old Jedi Order, and the Sith, and also a long, detailed history of Avernus Starkiller?the Dark Jedi who had begun construction on this very palace?and his descendants.

By far his favorite topic was the Sith, anything to do with the Dark Side of the Force intrigued him, but there was something about the very idea of the Sith that struck a cord with him. Were there any Sith in the galaxy at this time? He didn?t know, but he had very recently resolved to become one. It was his only hope if he wanted to eradicate the pestilent Jedi from the galaxy, and he wanted that more than anything. The very though sent excitement pulsing through him.

Via Shaan?s reading he?d come in contact with the truth of Sith Sorcery, knowing there was something very important about it, and he?d resolved to use it to get what he wanted. It was the only way he could achieve an unconquerable, destructive grip over the Jedi.

Presently the boy was slinking through the fortress, shoving his scrawny fingers through his long red hair, a nervous habit. In his other hand he carried a cumbersomely large book. Night was coming, the usual rain outside sounded as if it was getting heavier, but the boy hardly noticed. He was going to contact the spirit of a long dead Sith tonight. Of course he knew the risks, but if the time came for evasive action, then he would be ready. He felt that he was strong enough to face anything that came his way, anything.

He approached a windowless turret, which he entered quickly, and he lit a torch before closing the door. It was time to begin, and the boy knelt, opening the volume and placing it before him. He eyed the page, studied it reverently, though he didn?t understand many of the words and symbols.

If only he had been able to get any sensible information from the stupid, mocking holocron he?d

 

Calandria: That was interesting. Just came out of nowhere?

Anybody: I should have thought of this in the first place, but what happens at the end of a challenge? Does everybody just stop submitting their work, or does something else happen? Sorry I'm a first-timer.

 

Sorry, but I'm still not sure whether I should try it or not ...

 

Yes, there is more to those two pieces. They are a part of a story that I have set aside for the time being. That story is a backstory to the other tales I wrote and am currently writing.