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#Post#: 3176--------------------------------------------------
knight and dragon [Denied]
By: hyper Date: January 8, 2013, 11:29 am
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Once upon a time, a knight rode through the morning, whistling
cheerily to himself. His mail chinged as he rode, his helm shone
in the sunshine, his shield hung at his side, with his arms
brave upon it, and his sword hung sheathed and deadly at his
side. His name was Tarrival, and he was on a quest to slay a
dragon.
His path led him through a meadow, and to wooden bridge that
spanned a placid brown river. The iron shoes of Tarrival's horse
echoed hollowly on the bridge, and before he was halfway across,
a troll hoomed and swung long-armedly up onto the bridge to
block his path.
The knight Tarrival drew his sword, and reined in his horse,
which was prancing and snorting. He waited, adventure beating
pleasantly in his pulse.
"Hoom," rumbled the troll, squatting on the bridge with reeds
hanging in its hair and dripping water down its back. "Hoom, and
what is your business, Sir Knight, that takes you across my
bridge to trip-trappingly early in the morning?"
"My business is my own, Troll," Tarrival replied, "but I will
make you a gift of it, since you ask. I seek to slay a dragon,
and I have been told that this path will lead me to one."
The troll chuckled like a rusty grate. "Och, aye, that it will;
but you'll never defeat the dragon as you are. In any case, you
owe me a toll for crossing my bridge. Give me your horse, which
prances so bravely there, and I'll give you leave to cross."
Tarrival tightened his grip on his sword. "Methinks your toll is
heavy, Troll. Gold and silver I will give you, but not my
horse."
"Hoom, so? Gold and silver I have in plenty. I tell you plainly:
with that horse, you cannot defeat the dragon. Leave him in my
care, and if you return back this way you may have him again. Or
you may fight me; and perhaps you will kill me and go on with my
curse on you, or perhaps I will drag you down to my hole under
the bridge and gnaw on your bones this winter. Which will it
be?"
Tarrival sat, troubled, while the troll squatted in the middle
of a puddle. Finally, he asked, slowly, "I cannot defeat the
dragon with my horse?"
"You have my word on that, as an honest bridge-troll."
"What will you do with him?"
"Och, nothing to fear. I will keep him against your return, if
you do."
Slowly, the knight climbed down from his horse. "I have your
word, Troll. It will go hard on you if you have lied to me."
"Hoom, aye, aye. You're a mistrustful one, for sure. Come along,
then." The troll took the horse's reins and patted it on the
nose. "Get along with you, then. It's a mickle way to the
dragon's lair, and there are other guardians you must deal with
on the way."
Tarrival turned around, startled, but the troll was already
gone, with his horse. Sighing, he trudged on his way on foot.
A short time later, the path was winding up a hill and passed by
the ruins of an ancient watchtower. In the middle of the path
was a gryphon, eagle-winged and lion-pawed, rolling in the dust.
It sprang to its feet as the knight approached and shook itself
like a dog.
"Good morrow, Sir Knight, and what brings you along this lonely
path on such a fine morning?"
Tarrival eyed the gryphon cautiously. It was nearly as large as
the horse he had left behind. "I am on a quest to slay a dragon,
Gryphon, and I have been told that this is the path."
The gryphon yawned with its eagle's beak. "That it is. All you
need to do is pass me and you can continue on your way."
Tarrival put his hand on his sword, and the gryphon laughed,
which was a frightful sound. "Nay, good Knight, not that way.
You must give me your shield, with your arms painted so bravely
on it; and then you may pass me."
Tarrival said, carefully, not taking his hand from his sword,
"But without my shield, how will I defend myself from the
dragon?"
The gryphon said, sorrowfully, "Sir Knight, I tell you truly,
that if you face the dragon with your shield on your arm, then
you will never prevail. You must leave it with me. I swear to
you, on a gryphon's honor, that if you return back this way I
will give it back to you."
Tarrival sighed. "This is a most strange quest, indeed." He drew
his shield, with his arms painted bravely on it, from his arm.
"Here, take it and keep it well."
"That I shall," the gryphon said, rolling in the dust again.
"Now be on your way, for it is a long way to the dragon's lair,
and there are more guardians you must face."
"No doubt," Tarrival muttered, as he continued on his way.
The third guardian was a young girl playing in a field of
flowers by the path, with eyes that glowed a disturbing yellow.
In a voice that sounded like wooden flutes, she begged for the
loan of his helm to plant flowers in. He gave it to her without
demur.
The fourth guardian was a giant that lived in a rocky crag and
loomed overhead like a lightning-scarred pine tree. He demanded
the knight's shining mail coat.
The fifth guardian was an absent-minded wizard, shuffling down
the stairs of his tower and peering at Tarrival through small
round spectacles that perched tentatively on his nose. He fussed
through some notes, and requested the loan of the knight's
boots.
When the sixth guardian, a Puck-faced satyr dancing around a
forest glade and playing his pipes, demanded his sword, Tarrival
protested. "Surely, I must have my sword to defeat the dragon.
What am I supposed to do? Strangle it with my bare hands?" The
satyr merely grinned at him around his pipes, and Tarrival
resignedly passed over his deadly sword.
It was late in the day, the sun dipping low over the western
mountains, when Tarrival came, barefoot and empty-handed, to the
mouth of a cave, and met an ancient crone that sat crosslegged
in front of it, tending a pot of some noisesome brew that
bubbled over a small fire. She beckoned to him, and he came
wearily up to her.
"Well, Grandmother, what is it that I am supposed to surrender
to you? I have nothing left. Shall I give you my trousers,
because I cannot defeat the dragon without them? Or shall I tear
my heart from my chest?"
The crone cackled in mirth. "Nay, nay, good Knight, 'tis not so.
Will you give me your name?"
"Why, I am Tarrival, and I seek to slay a dragon."
"You mistake my meaning, Sir Tarrival. You have given up your
horse, your shield, your helm, your bright mail shirt, your
boots, and your sword. To me you must give me your name, for if
you face the dragon with it, you can never prevail."
Tarrival stared at her. "I must give up even my name? I don't
even know how I can do that. And whyfore? How is it that I
cannot defeat a dragon bearing my own name?"
The crone stirred her soup. "You must know, Sir Knight, that
nothing with a name can enter this cave. Therefore you must
surrender it to me, and I will keep it against your return."
He looked into the black depths of the cave. "If nothing with a
name can enter the cave, then has the dragon no name himself?"
"No more than an unborn babe. And now, Sir Knight, it is past
time for questions. You must give me your name and continue, or
return the way you have come."
Tarrival closed his eyes. "I will go on, but you must take my
name from me yourself, Grandmother. I cannot bear to do it
myself."
"As you will," he heard her say, and then there was a great
tearing pain as she plucked his name from him. Then the nameless
one opened his eyes and went down into the cave.
In the depths of the earth, a dark place. There are sounds. Some
of those sounds might be the dusty sliding of old scales across
stone. Some might be the padding of bare feet across those same
stones. Then again, they might not be.
There is a voice, though. Definitely. It speaks:
"Who is there?"
Another voice — or the same? No, a different one; there is a
different quality to it — answers:
"Why, that I cannot tell you, for I have no name. Who are you?"
"I have a name no more than you do."
There is a short silence. Then:
"It comes to me that one of us may be a dragon."
"Indeed? If that is the case, it seems likely that the other of
us is a knight."
"Quite. But which of us is which?"
"...That I cannot say."
"Perhaps I am the dragon, and I should fall upon you and devour
you."
"Perhaps. Perhaps I am the knight and I should fall upon you and
devour you."
"...That seems wrong. Do knights devour dragons, or the other
way around?"
"For some reason, I can no longer remember. Perhaps we should
fall upon each other, and see what occurs."
"An excellent suggestion. Shall we begin?"
"Indeed."
There are sounds. Some might be the sounds of iron claws and
fangs rending flesh. Some might be the sounds of strong hands
and arms strangling a slender scaled neck. Then again, they
might not be.
A nameless one came slowly out of the cave, blinking in the
morning light. He was wounded, but his step was strong. The
crone shuffled slowly out of her hut, and regarded him
carefully.
"Who are you?" she asked, finally.
"Why, Grandmother, I have no name and cannot answer your
question."
She nodded slowly. "No, of course not. Here, come into my hut
and I will treat your wounds and give you a name."
In the hut, she treated his wounds, with hands that were old and
gnarled but gentle. When she was done, she took out the name she
had been keeping, and gave it to him.
"I am Tarrival, the knight," Tarrival said, trying the flavor of
his name.
"That is the name you bear," the crone replied, somewhat
obliquely.
"Tarrival," he said again. "Yes, of course; it all comes back to
me now. My thanks, Grandmother. I must go now and reclaim my
sword, my boots, my... well, all the rest of it. Tarrival. Of
course."
She studied his eyes carefully, but if she saw anything, she
made no comment. In any case, such an experience might leave
strange shadows in any man's eyes.
Later, he left, barefoot and whistling, back along the path. The
crone continued to tend her pot, but occasionally she chuckled
to herself.
Deep in the cave, in a dark place, bones lay. But they were
nameless, and so unremembered.
#Post#: 3214--------------------------------------------------
Re: knight and dragon(application)
By: supercool08 Date: January 8, 2013, 6:28 pm
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I am sorry, but this application is denied. I would have really
liked to read it, but the first thing I check is to make sure
that you have the max amount of words or under, which would be
500. And this application clearly goes over 500 words. I am
sorry, please reapply in 2 weeks and I know you will do better.
:)
#Post#: 3252--------------------------------------------------
Re: knight and dragon [Denied]
By: blackmustangs075 Date: January 9, 2013, 8:55 pm
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You do have some potential, and I seriously think you could
become a writer if you put your best effort in. Next time, I'm
sure you can get it. Remember, the Applicant Workshop is always
there if you need it.
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