Iron Quill Preliminary Round: The Wolf in the Fog

[Thechosenone]

By all accounts, Bennett Creedy is a disgusting man. His habits are disgusting. His captain’s uniform is a stained battlefield where old droplets of food left a permanent wound for the world to see. His laugh is disgusting. It’s a sickening baritone noise delivered with a rapid fire deluge like a Gatling Gun aimed mercilessly at the enemy. And his body is disgusting. Muscle, grown by a long string of cruel seeds planted over thirty seven wicked years, is tucked away behind mounds of slovenly bloat. The uniform strains to hold it all it and where it failes waxen stretched flesh pokes through. His head, bald aside from tangled eye brows and harsh stubble, is otherwise child like. Chubby as a well fed boy and with a constant smile that promises all the mischief a man in his position can suffer upon the world.

He smacks his lips together and as they part the jostling clatter of hard candy against his teeth and the wet slapping of his tongue and cheeks creates a nauseous orchestra that besieges the ears of those around him. Always with a half smile. Always on the verge of a satisfying laugh that never quiet comes. Constant tension never broken.

“Do you mind if I smoke Doctor?” The voice beside Creedy asks dryly. It belongs to Christopher McGinnis. A handsome, modest and clean man; in every visible way he is the opposite of the Guild Captain. He wears the long coat of a Guild officer sure enough but the rest of the outfit beneath is different from Creedy’s. The vest, slacks and suspenders are more akin to what a banker would wear. He’s a Guild Accountant. An Auditor specifically. The terms and titles are banal and material. They mean the simplest of things in any other context but that of the Guild. Auditors in service of the most beneficent Governor-General offer a very different type of service to Malifaux and its citizenry. They are special agents, hunters of the dead who have unique talents when it comes to wracking the spirit and shackling the soul. Their methods were honed and perfected by a perverse dissection of books like the Malleus Maleficarum and the Cautio Criminallis.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” A third voice answers the request. Doctor Douglas McMourning sits across from the two men and leans deeply into the green padding of his tall desk chair. He’s regal and casual at the same time; dressed in his favorite jade paisley vest and white slacks. His dress shirt is fitted well and the ascot, a rust brown, is loose around his neck. A pair of shocked yellow rubber gloves rests on the oaken corner of his elaborate desk and Creedy’s offensively keen nose can smell the acrid cleaning materials that almost manage to wash away the rot and blood they toil in. Almost. The doctor fidgets with a large gold ring on his right hand, staring into the emerald that tops it and never really making eye contact with McGinnis. His voice remains passive and cordial.

“Not to say that you can’t of course. By all means do. It’s just that in my line of work you see things, if you understand my meaning investigators. You see a lot. I’m not one of those sorts with an idle mind. It’s always orbiting unknown possibilities trying to make sense of them. Peculiar growths and pitch colored clots turn up in the lungs of smokers. I suspect long term exposure can be fatal.” He says the last words with infinitely more interest. There’s a twinge of delight that Creedy hears and chalks it up to an eccentric man taking pride in his own correctness.

Mcmourning’s cautionary assessment is punctuated by the striking of the Auditor’s match and the sudden rush of smoke. Christopher pulls fumes through the cigarette and feels the warmth of it fill his lungs. “Short term exposure to Malifaux is far more dangerous a thing than this will ever be.” He waves the cigarette toward McMourning. “You know, a man in your profession I suspect would have a very interesting answer to this question: How many men have been laid on your slabs because of this.” He again gestures to the cigarette. “And how many have been brought in because of Malifaux’s distain for the living.”

McMourning turns the question over and over in his head. “A place can’t hate Mr. Mcginnis. You can blame Malifaux for its predations as soon as you can bring charges on a cat for murdering a rat. A thing can’t be held accountable for its nature.” A rare smile crawls with slow spider like efficiency across the doctor’s face. A wolf’s grin stares down upon the emerald surface of its jewelry before receding back into the fog of human formality and decorum.

The Guild Captain loses interest in the conversation for a moment and turns to the chess board beside the chemical soaked gloves. Little ivory and onyx pieces decorate a surface of black and white squares trapped in a static thirst for dominance half sated. The set is a patchwork menagerie of fragments. Some pieces that resemble pachyderms with their trucks trust high. Carrion birds perched on hangmen's scaffolding.Others are Apes with arms hammered firmly against their broad chests. Hunting cats stalk their prey across the dulled squares of their monochrome savanna. And two oppressive and wickedly regal lions leer at each other from across the board.

Creedy can't help but pick out their little details, especially the damage to them. Faces are chipped, pieces are ragged and cracks run like old scars across the little sculptures. Animals that nature never intended to meet now mingle together in a brutal instinctual scramble for survival.

But the pawns are of special interest to him. They're the missing chucks of the other pieces scattered across the board. Bestial claws, rough chisel gouged faces, tails, limbs. Tiny chaff that creeps across the board at the urging of their masters.

Creedy’s laugh comes like quick shotgun bursts “I like you doc. I like a man that lets a beast be a beast.” He examines one of the pawns briefly before setting it down with all the grace of a stampeding ox.

A quiet moment passes, only the crackle of the office fire and the rattle of candy in Creedy’s mouth fill the cemetery hush.

“So to what do I owe this visit gentlemen? You said something about official business? Guild business?”

McGinnis nods. “Yes. Four of our guards are missing. They just graduated training and the ceremony is in a few very short hours. They haven’t checked in with any of their commanding officers nor with their very concerned women. They went out to Silken Row to celebrate last night. And now… gone.” A puff of smoke swirls around McGinnis’ pale features and his eyes scrutinize McMourning with a terrible growling intensity.

“Have you checked Silken Row?” The doctor inquires, still caressing his ring with his thumb. The other hand traces fingers along the lip of a closed desk drawer.

“Sure did.” Creedy stuffs the candy into his cheek. He speaks sloppily while the bulge in his cheek shifts. “Figured what you probably figured. They’re out feedin’ the beast. Carousing if they’re lucky. Sleepin’ it off in a ditch if they ain’t. Or…?”

McGinnis picks up on Creedy’s unspoken question, waving his cigarette like a tiny smoldering scepter. “Or indeed. See, we’ve asked questions in Silken Row and we’ve heard fantastic stories. Rip skined beasts like great dead cats prowling the night…”

Creedy pokes his fat finger into the ivory bishop and watches the piece dance.

“… rumors of hungry dead. Sightings of three of our boys looking for the missing fourth. One of the women they met down there, Heather I think her name was…” McGinnis seems to struggle with the recollection.

“Woman… that’s a bit generous eh?” Creedy adds. “She was a whore through and through. Used the name Jade. It’s after a stone. Celestials use it a lot in their art.” He says with a rare bit of seriousness as if his words are news to either men. “She says that the guards were drugged and very drunk. But she says a lot of things.”

“Yes. Anyway…” Christopher continues “seems a local opium monger there reportedly saw morgue workers in the area collecting up at least one of the guards who allegedly perished. He also says one of the men owes him a great deal of script too. The whole thing is terrible mess you see.”

Beneath McMourning’s calm lips teeth gnash. The eyes that held so firmly with his emerald break, darting between the two men as they tell their tale before sinking back into the obscura of his precious stone. His thoughts wander to pad locked cages, to feline works of necromantic reverie and to cold boxes holding unfinished work. The edge of the drawer starts to yawn slightly.

“What we were hoping doctor is to have a look around your morgue and the hospital to see if we can find our men among the cliental.” McGinnis offers a slight smile. “Maybe even speak to some of your men too. I promise we won’t be a bother. Just want to find what’s ours. Can you help us?”

The doctor’s lip curls. His hand slithers into the dark of the drawer and blindly probes.

Creedy’s curious finger tips one of the silent carrion crows onto its side. The wobble and the snap of fire lord over the quiet study. There is nothing for a long deadly moment as two men await and answer while a third sinks deeper into the inviting promises of a polished stone. The rocking of the fallen crow slows.

But a new sound devours it. The howl of a beast concluding its silent hunt, a noise that says the game is over and all that is left is for hunter and prey to finish their part. To kill and to die.

The chair grating against a wooden floor muddles with the blur of the doctor pouncing to his feet and screaming like demon tasting his first moments of freedom from the pit. Equal parts elation and unholy defiance. His left hand strikes eager and fast like a viper grabbing Creedy by the back of his bald head and slamming it down against the chess board. The fat man flops backward, the black king impaled through his eye socket all the way to the base.

“I’ll take you RIGHT! TO! THEM!” A rabid and maniac frenzy spits from McMourning’s mouth. McGinnis reaches for his peacekeeper but instead his hand shoots for the white hot burn at his throat. A scalpel flashes in the firelight and an artery offers its life’s work in a single messy praise across the doctor’s vest and chin.

McGinnis flounders in his chair and almost falls to the floor but like a starved animal chasing its meal McMourning clambers over his desk dragging papers and curios to the floor. His free hand catches the Auditor by his hair. The other hand goes to work, gutting, slicing, cutting. His hands slide among the ruin of McGinnis’ open chest reaping chucks of steaming gristle and blackish ruin from the lungs. He was right. Cigarettes never bring anyone to the morgue.

“Doctor? Can you help?” Christopher McGinnis repeats a second time.

McMourning's eyes leave the stone for a brief moment to glance at the two investigators again. Pleasant possibilities fuel the smile he shares with them. It makes the expression genuine but for all the wrong reasons while the curtain falls on the phantasm in his mind.

“Gentlemen I assure you I’d be the first to know if one our city’s brave sentinels were brought in. I know the workings of my morgue and the hospital as I know my own heart.” His fingers release the blade in the dark. They slowly close the yawning drawer. He stands graciously and gestures to the door. “But if it will allay your concerns then it would be my honor and privilege to help.”

He lets them lead the way before following behind.

“Thank you again for your cooperation Doctor McMourning. The Guild is most appreciative.” The Auditor says diplomatically.

“Oh I’m sure it is. I’m sure.” His voice echoes down the barely lit halls of his office and wanders dumbly into the depths of the staircase they walk toward. “Oh… excuse me one moment gentlemen.” McMourning says apologetically and pauses.

He takes a few quick steps back into his office and grabs the yellow gloves off his desk before waving them at the two investigators. The wolf emerges from the fog again with teeth bared

“I may need these.”

---------- Post added at 04:17 PM ---------- Previous post was at 04:03 PM ----------

Thanks again for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.

Few things. First, I wasn't sure what I was going to write and, inspired by the randomness of the themes, I took fifteen stat cards and shuffled them around then drew three cards with my eyes closed. Got the Guild Captain, Exorcist and Douglas McMourning. So that's how this came together.

I like deep exposition on things. Probably comes from my enjoyment of things like Lovecraft and even my recent reading of Great Gatsby. That style of explaining a thing so deeply that you see it an entirely new way thanks to the author's detailing. I dig that.

This story uses two characters from my previous work. Bennett Creedy who's pretty disgusting. And Christopher McGinnis who's a pretty even handed investigator. The Auditors are my versions of the exorcists.

I think another thing that's worthy of mentioning is that my version of Malifaux differs greatly from the canon. If you've read my stuff before you know. If you haven't this one won't really touch on my vision too much but I'd be overjoyed if you were curious enough to check out my other work. Ask Chucklemonkey and Thepandadirector. They know.

Anyway. Thanks. Please leave a comment, I love to read them no matter the nature of it.

Edited June 8, 2012 by Thechosenone

[Grantt]

Yum. Well Written and delivered - I think your descriptive style is thoroughly engaging and creates really engrossing characters. Your plot unfolds deliciously, building on the "in media res" start to fill in the blanks whilst leading you to the conclusion.

My only criticism is in your delivery of action; I was often confusd when your exposition moved into sudden events. I would suggest a change of pace and an emphasis on connective Punctuation for impact. I'd also consider changing it from the present, happening right now, tense, to a third person reflective tense to make sudden "gear-shifts" easier to incorporate.

Still, this is the winner right now, in my opinion.

[Thechosenone]

Why thanks so much sir of the quick read. I actually was just in the process of making a few structural changes.

As for the tense change. Present has just always been my thing. I know I've chatted with Edonil I believe and maybe others about it. I know most write in past tense. It probably comes from years of Game Mastering, who knows? But that's just how I roll.

Feel free to point out passages where the action tumbles out like a tipped over garbage can so I can understand and improve.

Thanks again.

[Grantt]

It's mainly the moment McMourning attacks the gentlemen in his imagination. A few sentences could have been clearer. I liked the way it moved back into reality, I just think it could have had more impact when his violent thoughts kicked in.

Sorry I'm not being more explicit; I'm sleepy...

[ThePandaDirector]

Dammit!

After you're praise I really wanted to tear this apart in a rather sadistic way =P

BUT... unfortunately it's your best work I've read so far, so there you go, can't win 'em all

Let me start by saying the Great Gastby is quite possibly my favourite book ever, and while you're piece has a tone that shifts things somewhat drastically (your's is more descriptive and atmospheric as oppossed to Gatsby's more thematic and philisophical reflection).

So saying that, I love the description, though at times I wonder if parts like-

"They are special agents, hunters of the dead who have unique talents when it comes to wracking the spirit and shackling the soul. Their methods were honed and perfected by a perverse dissection of books like the Malleus Maleficarum and the Cautio Criminallis."

-would be better conveyed if the narrator was a character themselves, somewhat in the way Nick Carroway lends his own opinion and tone to what would be an otherwise bland description. But overall the description was brilliant.

Two highlights for me were the Auditor waving his cigarette around whenever the dialogue bounced over to him, it's a little touch I could see clear as day and it allowed me to even add my own pauses to his speech. The other was the desk drawer yawning as McMourning is fumbling discreetly for his tools of the trade. Oh and I liked how he looked at his ring while talking to them, I could picture that and it added to his contrasting attitudes (relaxed and anxious). Oh and I loved how Creedy changes tone when talking about the whore, loved his sudden seriousness and knowledge, added a great element to his character.

Boy oh boy, that's probably the most praise I've given to anyone, so I'll try and save this post with some criticism =P

Well there was a few words missing etc, but I don't have time to point them out.

Like I said, the thing that works best is also the element that hinders it at times, the amount of description allows me to see the image clear as day, but the more thematic elements were rather isolated and decorative. You seem to create some connectedness with the chess set, relating back to the battle metaphors used with Creedy, but I don't think it works like it should.

A) because I didn't like the chess set, when I pictured it I thought "urgh, what's a trashy gothic chess set doing in the good Doctor's morgue?" I would of replaced them with a mixed collection of weathered pieces, some of which would be animals, some men and some inbetween The raggedness of the collection would reflect McMourning's more "creative" work, the beasts relate to your theme and the general cleanliness of the board would reflect his disection table.

The theme of war doesn't relate to your overall theme - nature. Therefore it would be better to play on the predictablity of the chess pieces, the way a knight can trap a pawn, the clinical cleaness of the chess board and how that contrasts with the wilderness both outside the morgue and inside McMourning's mind (chess is clean, but represents battle which isn't).

Also I agree the sudden change in pace when McMourning attacks is a little jarring and I think that comes down to the fact that their is no provocation or great deal of tension. You could have had Creedy step towards something McMounring doesn't want him to investigate and he answers Creedy's alarming discovery with a slit jugular only for Creedy to turn from the point of interest and for the event to not play out as imagined.

So yeah, overall it's your finest work doctor, with brilliant description and details. With a few tweaks and a more defining theme/tone I think it would be even better.

[Thechosenone]

So everyone, I rest my case on why The Panda Director is bad ass. It's because he gives you some meat to work with.

The chess set concept you laid out very well packaged and I like it. Given the opportunity I'd change it around. I think these things are done once posted. I completely forgot about the chess set as an element required till about halfway through so, sloppy as it is, I went back and threw in a cliched chess set, the kind that would give Dracula a boner. I may be playing my hand as far as how that element works in the story and for scores but that's cool. I'm honest if nothing else.

In my mind the impetus for the imaginary action was the slow build up of questions and the spark was the tipping over of the chess piece. Eh... it was ok ish, in retrospect.

But yeah, thanks again Panda for the evaluation.

[ThePandaDirector]

You're more than welcome =D

Now looking at the pace change a little more:

"Creedy’s curious finger tips one of [the] knights onto its side. The wobble and the snap of fire lord over the quiet study.

The sound of a chair grating against a wooden floor muddles with the blur of McMourning pouncing to his feet."

For me it's the second sentence in the first line that breaks it, since you're explaination would imply an immediate reaction to the chess piece falling over. That extra bit of description slows it down and causes the jarring pace. so I would replace the first sentence with:

"Creedy’s curious finger fondels the tip of a rook. His bloated index bludgeons and knocks it over with an echoing heartbeat.

The sound of a chair grating against a wooden floor muddles with the blur of McMourning pouncing to his feet."

Not great, and I actually had to redraft it as I also fell for going more descriptive, but the key is to have the provocation at the end, possibly with a little bit of atmosphere.

So just watch the gap between a change a pace and think about how the end and start of the sentences link.

I think I've got one more story to read now, then I'll have to get round to cobbling some ragtag tale for myself =D

Edited June 7, 2012 by ThePandaDirector

[Grantt]

"Creedy's curious fondling tips the knight to one side; the wooden knock muffled by the crackle of burning logs in the fireplace. To this noisome choir, the scrape of a chair seems unnatural, though this sudden sound heralds the fearsome pounce of McMourning as he bounds to his feet and springs towards his prey."

Yeah, that's a tricky pace-change. Above is the best I can manage, and even then I feel like I've missed the target.

[Sliver Chocobo]

Really good work, I saw mc mourning attack the guard captain a mile away, but I loved the tension building it up

[UberGruber]

I really liked the descriptions in this. As they were generally superb I'm going to point out the bits I thought were weaker than general ( by the way though I think grammar is a tool rather than something to be adhered to as a sacred text, I'd think about sticking 'have' before 'food left' in the captain's one though as really it needs a 'have' to make logical sense, though I notice there's a tendency to shy from past perfect for some reason in some modern writing).

jostling clatter of hard candy against his teeth echoes out along side the wet slapping of his tongue and cheeks. (I felt the bolded parts seemed a bit much when the whole thing is considered. I wonder if you shouldn't perhaps drop 'jostling' and 'out alongside')

He’s regal and casual at the same time (I'm generally loathe to suggest too many wording changes but I wonder why here you did not simply say ' He’s both regal and casual')

drowned white insect (why 'drowned?'. Do insects bloat when they drown? Would 'bloated white insect; be worse?)

The sound of a chair grating against a wooden floor muddles with the blur of McMourning pouncing to his feet. (I don't quite see a sound muddling with a visual. Perhaps 'The chair grates against the wooden floor and in a blur Mcmourning is pouncing to his feet' - interesting use of 'pouncing' by the way, I liked it a lot)

frothy rabid and maniac frenzy (I think the frothing is well enough implied by rabid that to add it explicitly is perhaps too tautological. As an aside I would end the previous paragraph with the doctor resuming his staring at the emerald so that the action turning out to be imagining has been clued in for the denser reader such as myself. That way when you return to the story's reality it doesn't feel like you conned the reader so much).

[Thechosenone]

What if I did....... that! Edits, changes, suggestions woot!

Thanks all.

And I'm glad you enjoy Gatsby too Panda. I can say it certain has worked its way into me on a lot of levels. There's really something to that book. Can we agree on hating Daisy and Jordan? Cause I totally hate Daisy and Jordan.

[ThePandaDirector]

Ok, so for those who didn't spot it, Thechosenonemade some changes. Forgive me if there are more, but I wanted to point out the two largest sections. Firstly there's:

The Guild Captain loses interest in the conversation for a moment and turns to the chess board beside the chemical soaked gloves. Little ivory and onyx pieces decorate a surface of black and white squares trapped in a static thirst for dominance half sated. The set is a patchwork menagerie of fragments. Some pieces that resemble pachyderms with their trucks trust high. Carrion birds perched on hangmen's scaffolding.Others are Apes with arms hammered firmly against their broad chests. Hunting cats stalk their prey across the dulled squares of their monochrome savanna. And two oppressive and wickedly regal lions leer at each other from across the board.

Creedy can't help but pick out their little details, especially the damage to them. Faces are chipped, pieces are ragged and cracks run like old scars across the little sculptures. Animals that nature never intended to meet now mingle together in a brutal instinctual scramble for survival.

But the pawns are of special interest to him. They're the missing chucks of the other pieces scattered across the board. Bestial claws, rough chisel gouged faces, tails, limbs. Tiny chaff that creeps across the board at the urging of their masters.

Creedy’s laugh comes like quick shotgun bursts “I like you doc. I like a man that lets a beast be a beast.” He examines one of the pawns briefly before setting it down with all the grace of a stampeding ox.

A quiet moment passes, only the crackle of the office fire and the rattle of candy in Creedy’s mouth fill the cemetery hush.

Not gonna lie, I googled pachyderms and I'm guessing you meant to say "trunks thrust high". While I like how you create a macabre savanna I think you once again get carried away =]

But it mostly works, with some just a word too long ("brutal instinctual scramble" could lose the brutal, and change scramble for race/struggle).

Also "grace of a stampeding ox" is just way over exaggarated, as it implies he literally destroys the whole thing =D Something like "grace of a silverback gorilla" which implies some level of control (apes having opposable thumbs) while implying Creedy's brawn anchored gestures.

Creedy’s curious finger tips one of the silent carrion crows onto its side. The wobble and the snap of fire lord over the quiet study. There is nothing for a long deadly moment as two men await and answer while a third sinks deeper into the inviting promises of a polished stone. The rocking of the fallen crow slows.

But a new sound devours it. The howl of a beast concluding its silent hunt, a noise that says the game is over and all that is left is for hunter and prey to finish their part. To kill and to die.

The chair grating against a wooden floor muddles with the blur of the doctor pouncing to his feet and screaming like demon tasting his first moments of freedom from the pit. Equal parts elation and unholy defiance. His left hand strikes eager and fast like a viper grabbing Creedy by the back of his bald head and slamming it down against the chess board. The fat man flops backward, the black king impaled through his eye socket all the way to the base.

Now this is just way over top.

Out of:

"There is nothing for a long deadly moment as two men await and answer while a third sinks deeper into the inviting promises of a polished stone. The rocking of the fallen crow slows.

But a new sound devours it. The howl of a beast concluding its silent hunt, a noise that says the game is over and all that is left is for hunter and prey to finish their part. To kill and to die. "

The only part I like is "The rocking of the fallen crow slows", which I feel should come at the end after "Christopher McGinnis repeats a second time". The rest is just exaggarated, indulgent and doesn't address the pacing problem.

Also "screaming like [a] demon tasting his first moments of freedom from the pit. Equal parts elation and unholy defiance" brings me back to the "trashy gothic" chess set, with "demon" contradicting nature and the whole "tasting his first moments" being again indulgent and cheesy. You compare McMourning to a viper later on, so maybe maintain the serpent ties. Maybe link the sudden rattle of his keys to a rattle snake, or the posture in his pouncing body like an uncoiling python (uncoiling his true intentions as well).

I also think that "The chair grating against a wooden floor muddles with the blur of the doctor pouncing" is a little jarring and bland. Maybe just go right in with:

"a crashing sound snaps his [Creedy's] attention, but before he can register the fallen chair it's occupant, an uncoiled python, is pouncing towards him. The Doctor's intentions unravel as he bares his clinical fangs.

A blurred left hand strikes eager and fast like a viper, grabbing Creedy by the back of his bald head and slamming it down against the chess board."

There's got to be a better word than "crashing", but its the pace more than anything that needs adressing while you need to hold back on going into too much detail when you do action, especially sudden changes of pace.

Anyway, hope that helps =]

Edit

And I'm glad you enjoy Gatsby too Panda. I can say it certain has worked its way into me on a lot of levels. There's really something to that book. Can we agree on hating Daisy and Jordan? Cause I totally hate Daisy and Jordan.

Daisy, Tom and Jordan are "careless people", but not inherently evil, which is something I like. I am a fan of Jordan however, and I feel that the breakdown between her and Nick wasn't due to bad character but inherent flaws limited in their different personalities. I can certainly relate to Gatsby, only my optimism is for the future, not reliving the past. I can also relate to Nick, as I am just as reflective and observant.

The language in the book is perfect and its themes universal (we all have a green light). It is able to be both concise (it's hardly a long or difficult book to read) and yet so full of detail and depth. I tend to read Dan Abnett and David Gemmell, so it takes a masterful author indeed to keep me interested in the lives of the "social elite".

You should watch Midnight in Paris if you haven't already. It's directed by Woody Allen and deals with Golden Age Thinking:

"Nostalgia is denial - denial of the painful present... the name for this denial is golden age thinking - the erroneous notion that a different time period is better than the one ones living in - its a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people who find it difficult to cope with the present."

Edited June 8, 2012 by ThePandaDirector

[UberGruber]

I do agree it probably could do with trimming, but I think a lot of that can be done by changing longer phrases like: 'The chair grating against a wooden floor' to 'The chair screeches' rather than too much wholesale cutting. to me it seems that chosenone likes his descriptions and so they should be preserved as much as possible as that's part of his style

As I I like seeing description in action, but with the disclaimer that a) I wouldn't have written the original in the same way at all, I think and so the change of phrasing may be more to do with inflicting my style upon the story than actually improving anything per se, I'd do this:

Creedy’s curious finger tips one of the silent carrion crows onto its side. The wobble and the snap of fire lord over the quiet study. There is nothing for a long deadly moment as two men await and answer while a third sinks deeper into the inviting promises of a polished stone. The rocking of the fallen crow slows.

But a new sound devours it. The howl of a beast concluding its silent hunt, a noise that says the game is over and all that is left is for hunter and prey to finish their part. To kill and to die.

The chair grating against a wooden floor muddles with the blur of the doctor pouncing to his feet and screaming like demon tasting his first moments of freedom from the pit. Equal parts elation and unholy defiance. His left hand strikes eager and fast like a viper grabbing Creedy by the back of his bald head and slamming it down against the chess board. The fat man flops backward, the black king impaled through his eye socket all the way to the base.

Like this:

Creedy’s curious finger tips a silent carrion crows onto its side. There is nothing for a long deadly moment as the rocking of the fallen crow slows and two men await an answer while the third sinks deeper into the inviting promises of a polished stone.

The chair screeches across the floor and in a blur the doctor pounces, screaming in elation and unholy defiance -- a demon unleashed from the pit. He strikes with viperous speed, slamming Creedy's bald head down onto the board so the fat man's eye socket is impaled by the black king, driven full-length to its base.

Which I think keeps most of the good imagery like pouncing/pounces and the viper-speed. I'm not right happy with the last sentence insomuch as I think it a little clumsy in its description.

[Chucklemonkey]

I will of course let others run their critical eyes over the finer details of the story but just wanted to say it reads very nicely to me and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Assuming a few blockbuster tales aren't forthcoming you will see a fair few votes from myself.

[UberGruber]

I'd just like to add that I don't think McMourning being described as both serpent and demon is stretching things too much. The Old Testament possibly uses serpents as metaphors for 'false gods', who might be termed 'demons', and, more probably, as representing Satan (granted generally regarded as 'the devil' rather than a demon, but demons are, I think, most often associated with devilry anyway.

[ThePandaDirector]

I'd just like to add that I don't think McMourning being described as both serpent and demon is stretching things too much. The Old Testament possibly uses serpents as metaphors for 'false gods', who might be termed 'demons', and, more probably, as representing Satan (granted generally regarded as 'the devil' rather than a demon, but demons are, I think, most often associated with devilry anyway.

Warning: Book 3 spoiler below.

It really depends on whether Thechosenone wants McMourning to be linked to a "false God" or not. From other parts of the story I gathered there was a tie to nature and the difference between predator and prey. I thought that the original chess set was a little trashy and generally I'm not a fan of most gothic content in the same way anti-heroes are so often unoriginal or poorly expressed. When the chess set was changed to a macabre savanna that reinforced the natural themes. So generally demons aren't "natural" and the original connection to snakes is both limited in terms of how many people would make that connection, but also takes emphasis off the original "predator and prey" theme and shifts it to more holy/unholy themes that would suggest that the animals are also demons and monsters and that the savanna is Hell/purgatory.

It's up to Thechosenone, but I prefer the ambiguity of nature and by linking McMourning to animal nature and not biblical "nature" then that links him to Marcus in a way I personally find more greyscale, more scientific and less "evil". Much better for McMourning to be a beast in the sense that he is an animal with an inherent nature to trap his prey than a beast that is an inherently evil monster.

"Even though I am no better than a beast, don't I too have the right to live?"

[UberGruber]

Yes, I suppose it depends whether you want him to be bestial in nature or demonical. I think you could argue his is a corruption of nature and therefore in a sense demonical, but equally you could give it a pseudo-scientific bent.

perhaps then ' . . . roaring like a great cat asting freedom from its cage'

or something of that order.

By the way, the little I know of the Malifaux background is second-hand picked up from this board, I've not actually read any of the official background stories having only the Rules Manual so any spoilers on my part are purely unitentional and probably coincidental.

Edited June 9, 2012 by UberGruber

[Thechosenone]

Well, for one, I'm probably going to leave this piece where its at, only because no piece is every really perfect. I could tweek it forever and I'd still find little things i'd want to change. But I really thank everyone for their suggestions. It really helped the piece. There should really be some recognition in this thing for top contributors of editing help.

As far as the nature of evil discussion, i'm not really going to weigh in on where my head was at. I'm just happy to spark the discussion. I do like considering whether evil is a part of nature or if evil is an ephemeral concept that invades a less tangible underlying reality. If its nature, then I guess its an acceptable part of reality. Its instinct. If its supernatural than evil is beyond our understand and mortals can really be help accountable because of the invisible hand of fate directing things.

And regarding Gatsy again. To me, Panda, calling someone like Tom merely careless is just too dismissive. He's a racists. He's seems to treat his wife as a prize in some situations and in others he's totally unconcerned about what his actions do to her?

Daisy lacks any kind of loyalty to me and I just don't see any strength in her. She needs decisions made for her.

Jordan, deeply self concerned. I guess she's the least awful. Its just that the contrast between all these people and Nick is so startlingly apparent that it makes them even worse then they may actually be. Nick's mere presence shows us the depths of their hollowness.

---------- Post added at 08:39 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:37 PM ----------

Oh and ubergruber, I just invent my own narrative. I guess i've real all of wyrds but i just do my own thing.

[ThePandaDirector]

because no piece is every really perfect

Oh the irony

I can understand that you no longer want to hack at what you have. I can now confirm that I have a grand total of 491 words in my story so far and I currently don't see me making many changes regardless of how much abuse is thrown at it (and you all better give me some abuse). Saying that I'm really enjoying writing again and I have you lot to thank for that (the fact that I can't sleep at 4am is inconsequential) =]

As for Gatsby I was referring to:

"They were careless people, Tom and Daisy--they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made."

But while I agree that Tom was the worst and the rest were rather spineless and selfish, it links to a core part of society both at the time and currently:

"Americans, while occasionally willing to be serfs, have always been obstinate about being peasantry."

It relates to our basic nature to survive, where we will often cling to security and normality (even if that normality is volatile) regardless of any moral judgement (which itself is influenced by our own investment). Gatbsy is a "grotesque rose" to most because they have no reason to invest in such a man while Nick clearly does have a reason to do so.

There's also something Nick says:

"There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired."

Daisy is often described as the pursued, but she's also tired and discontented with the fact that the only way women like her get security is by being "beautiful little fools", while being pursued is all she has to give her some purpose. Jordan is busy, too busy to be a proper driver and too busy to get wrapped up in the life of a man who deals in illegal goods and throws pointless parties. Tom is the pursuing, but his simple intellect pursues that "irrecoverable football game" rather than Daisy which is Gatsby's target.

I love Gatsby himself and my life (and current story) has been influenced by such wonders as:

"He smiled understandingly - much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced - or seemed to face - the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself."

I wish I could smile like that, or could find someone who could make me feel so understood, but that's the wonder of Gatsby. in his own tragic way he is a green light for all of us, but one that speaks to the destructive, obsessive nature we try to repress in favour of the ordinary, the mundane. Most of us are Nick, trying to understand the things that pass as by as best we can, so it's understandable why we like him more than the equally realistic, but less relatable ensemble.

I better get back to writing =]

Edit: Over 1000 words! Woo!

Edited June 10, 2012 by ThePandaDirector

[Thechosenone]

On jordan again, actually I stand by disliking her a lot and I had to go back to the book to get the page but my feelings on her are laid out by nick on 57 and 58. She's incurably dishonest and avoids shrewd men. Id type the whole passage but on my phone at the moment.