All right, it's that time again! Grab your notebooks, set your timers, and rev up your pens and pencils. And feel free to check out Seventh Sanctum and the Rinkworks name gen if the offerings I give don't interest your muse. I'd really like to see what you guys can come up with; it won't matter if it's posted late. Heck, I often post mine late... sometimes because I'm squabbling with my siblings about who gets the computer. Here we go!
Male Lead: Firunil: The calculating knight. His midnight black hair flows over his shoulders like water. His plum-colored eyes are always looking at painful memories. He usually wears multiple charms.
Female Lead: Ethrolie: This woman puts you in mind of a prowling panther. She has beady brown eyes that are like two discs of wood. Her silky, curly, brown hair is short and is worn in a weird style. She is tall and has a leggy build. Her skin is dark. She has a small mouth. Her wardrobe is strange.
Villain: Malan: This logical warlock is motivated by greed. He employs alchemy in his plans, usually taking over institutions of magical training to achieve his goals. He can't resist a fight.
Setting: Jungle of Memories/Ancient Ever-changing Starship/Neptune's Anchorage
McGuffin: Dagger of the Titan
Mysterious Creatures: Chaos Incarnations
1: Setting: pirate science-fiction. Theme:love-against-the-odds story
2: Setting: space opera/sword-and-sorcery. Theme: adventure story
3: Setting: utopia. Theme: mythological mystery story
And if you find that you really like whatever it is you've come up with, save the starter and see if you can't convince it to turn into a full-fledged story later on!
This is actually a slightly edited version after I decided I had to do something with this starter.
ReplyDeleteNeptune’s Anchorage jutted out across the beach like a broken limb, a festering eyesore on the otherwise pristine landscape. Once merely a port for ships, the town had grown and expanded as the means of travel did the same. Now it was a haven not merely for the ships that sailed the sea, but for the majestic space galleons and sky riders that ruled the byways.
But the heart of the town had not changed in the slightest. Neptune’s Anchorage was, and always would be, a pirate haunt: a destination for buccaneers, privateers, smugglers, rogues, thieves, murderers, and a thousand and one other unsavory types. Some of these were human; others belonged to the alien starfarers, or the mythical people who had come out of hiding in these later years.
Given the nature of the town, the fight taking place in front of the Stilled Knife tavern was not unusual. What was unusual was that one of the two combatants—the more skilled of the pair—wasn’t a pirate, or one of their numerous branch-offs.
“B’grabs,” swore a bystander as the lithe, well-armored figure launched himself into a bewildering leap over his opponent’s head, “that’s one o’ the Fair Knights from the Stelkara Realm! What’s his kind doin’ way out here?”
The knight landed easily, ducked under the rogue’s clumsy thrust, then whipped his own short sword up and out in a punishing blue. A trail of blood droplets followed the sword’s arc. The rogue staggered back, dropping his cutlass, his right arm opened from elbow to wrist. He clutched at the bleeding gash, falling to one knee.
“Damn you, Firunil,” he gasped. “Damn your Wyldelf hide to the Six Pits!”
His plum-colored eyes cold, the knight placed his blade against the rogue’s neck. “Fascinating as your choice of curses is,” he snapped, “my patience for them and you grows ever thinner. What have you done with the Dagger of the Titan? And do not think your secret will be safe with your death. There are ways to make the dead speak—and not all of those ways are forbidden.”