Day 2! Also known as the day that I actually take a breath and try to figure out what this month is going to look like, rather than just flailing into the void. (I know, I'm surprised by this, too.) Here's the plan, as it stands today:
On Mondays and Wednesdays, I'll make a video showing a new story prompt device, demonstrating how it works, pulling a prompt, and talking my way through a story based on the prompt. I'll also post the story on the blog here. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I'll post a picture of a second prompt from the same device, and the story from that prompt here. Fridays will be CHAOS! Basically, I'll pull anything from any combination of devices that have been used up to that point and come up with something. Saturdays will be dealer's choice as far as what prompts the story (possibly using one of the devices demonstrated that week, possibly using one of the prompts from Story A Day, possibly some random third thing). Saturdays I'll also review the devices used that week. Sundays are dealer's choice again, and a preview of what the devices for the next week will be.
With that being said, for today's CHAOS I used the Story Engine again, this time with all the expansions. Here's a picture of what my notes/figuring things out looks like on my preferred writing platform, Scrivener.
And here's the story!
Waldo stamped his feet absentmindedly, trying to warm up, and winced as the heel of his bad leg struck the ground. Even though it had been three years since the attack, he still wasn’t used to thinking of having a weaker leg, and it caught him out more often than not. Still, at the moment the important thing was to keep himself warm, not to fret over the pain no one could fix. It was getting on to mid-morning, and he still had the rest of his trap line to check before midday.
He smiled to himself as he found a hare in the next trap, adding it to his game bag and gathering some wild carrot that was growing nearby as well. It would make a fine meal, and the pelt looked to be in good shape - perhaps he could make something of it, or, more likely, trade it in town for some salt, sugar, and other supplies he couldn’t forage for himself. He hated the idea of going into town and dealing with the pitying looks, but there were some things he simply couldn’t do without.
He moved along the line, ignoring the increasing pain, until he stopped suddenly when he saw that his line was broken. He’d taken a great deal of care to connect the traps so he would be able to move between them easily, and seeing the broken line told him things were very wrong. There were broken branches and trampled grass near the break in the line, and a path led clearly away from the line in a direction Waldo hadn’t explored previously. He was sure it was a bad idea, but the signs of trouble were far too clear, and his instincts, borne of several years as a member of the city guard, told him that he needed to see what the danger was. Better to know what it is and develop a plan to handle it, than to allow himself to be surprised again. With a grunt, he followed the trampled path.
It didn’t go very much further into the forest, but it did lead to a clearing Waldo hadn’t seen before. Before he came fully into the clearing, he heard a cry that sounded just on the edge of his hearing, and made his knees weak. It was pitched extremely high, a long, keening note that wavered and warbled in a way that ran down Waldo’s spine and made his body want to run, collapse, and freeze in place all at once. He forced himself forward, determined to see what the source of the sound was and stop it immediately, and then froze.
In the middle of the clearing, which was full of blooming clover, were two bodies. One was the size of two draft horses put together, a head nearly as wide as a man is tall and full of teeth like knives. The paws were like wagon wheels, ending in curved claws like the talons of a falcon, and around the head and down the body were a small line of short horns set in a pelt Waldo knew from experience was thicker than a dagger was long. He knew that even a sword’s edge would barely make a dent into that thick, matted fur, and he started seeing a monster just like this one bearing down on him, one paw ready to reach out and take his other leg out from under him and final devour him whole.
This monster, in the here and now, was not going to attack anyone ever again. When Waldo forced himself closer, he realized that the bright orange eyes were clouded over, and the mouth was slack. The beast was dead, somehow, even though Waldo’s quick evaluation didn’t show any blood or major injury. How could the beast have fallen, if it hadn’t been attacked?
And what was making that terrible noise? The sound raised up again, causing a chill to run down Waldo’s spine again. He came closer still, emboldened now that he knew the beast was dead, and it wasn’t until he was almost standing on the dead animal that he realized it wasn’t alone. Next to the corpse was a beast in miniature, and it was crying.
#
Waldo wiped his brow and leaned against a tree, stretching out his bad leg and catching his breath. The dead monster had been heavier than he had expected, and he didn’t have the proper tools to break it down in the field, but he needed to get enough to take back to town and collect the bounty. The town was generous when it came to the dead monsters - the bounty was for proof of death, not proof of a kill. It had taken hours to break off one of the horns down to the root, and Waldo looked like he had taken on the beast single-handedly by the time he was finished. Still, the bounty would keep him in some creature comforts for quite some time, and allow him a bit of breathing room. Besides, the death of another monster was absolutely worth celebrating in his mind.
He was about to start back to town when he heard the baby again, its wails growing louder. He’d managed to tune out the sound for the most part, but this was slightly different in tone. He cringed, starting to move away from the glade, when he heard an answering call that ran straight to his gut. The call was much lower in tone, meaning it was much easier for him to hear, and it reminded him that he was an extremely fragile being and that these monsters could do a world of damage to him before they had to take a breath. He turned back slowly just in time to see another adult monster come into the clearing, moving straight for the baby.
Waldo shrank back, trying to hide among the trees and figure out the best way to get out of there without drawing the new monster’s attention. The living adult stopped at the edge of the clearing where the body of the dead adult lay, and it lay its head down to sniff at the corpse before continuing into the clearing. The baby’s cries grew louder, and Waldo fought the urge to put his hands over his ears to block out the sound. He became frantic, trying to find a way out, when he noticed the living adult was moving in a way that didn’t make any sense.
The further into the clearing the adult came, the more clover flowers it crushed under its massive paws, and the slower it moved. It began to weave, looking like a man who had been in his cups, and suddenly collapsed next to the baby. Waldo watched in fascination as it breathed once, twice, three times, and then no more.
His mind raced as he moved back into the clearing, slowly approaching the newly-dead adult. Something about the clover flowers seemed to be killing the adults, even though the baby was able to lie among the flowers without injury. He began to work on one of the horns of the new monster, thankful that they were a distinctly different color than the first monster’s, and tried to figure out how to use this information.
Waldo wasn’t made for strategy - he knew his strengths, and making a plan was not one of them. The important thing, after getting the bounty, was telling someone else what was going on, so they could come up with a plan. It was important information, he knew, and he was sure there was some way to use it against the monsters and possibly save the other city guards who stood in the gap between the walls and the monsters. He would be blessed if he knew what it was, though.
With hardly a backward glance, he moved back through the forest, on his way to town and to pick up his bounty. Behind him, the wails of the baby monster continued.
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