Stories from the 2015 Spring Contest

springstorybannerShrine of Sobriety, Trammel, Chesapeake (PaxLair Times) – March 8, 2015 – by Ashlynn – Suggestive banana fiction, songs of pirate raiders, and even a botany demonstration were amongst the highlights from yesterday evening’s story contest. Once again there were plenty of high quality entrance which made judging extremely difficult. Fortunately with the help of Dark Rayne I was able to reach a decision on who would be taking home the fungal star prize and that honour went to Ilex de Plume for her tale of the sacking of Pitmuck.

Some the entries have been reprinted below and this article will be updated as I gather copies of all the entries. Once again thank you to all the participants for such wonderful variety!

Phases – by Walking Water

An open hand held silently against the dawn
Long and slender, gnarled staff straight
Other hand a closed grip.
Holding tightly.
Two beliefs
Willing Heart

Frozen expectations,
Give way to dormant truth
Rebirth in the form of green
Sprouting, stirring, budding life.

Shells, litter the sand.
Cracked and bent
Pushing and pressing out of bounds
Until the strips of what was
Remain lost to time.

Spring – by Ozog Giantfart

Spring beees goos for matraess
Spring beees goos for carriages on da bumpy roads ob Brit
Meees likes to have a spring in mees step
Spring beees funz

Antz ob Spring – by Icky Rotblossom

Dey trabel swiftlie,
marchin wit miletarie precishun
ober a brokens bored,
windin thru a foots-squar jungel
ub fernz en moss…
an armie ub peeple,
libble blak people,
feelerz wabin ta katch da cent
dat wills leed dem toos
da gif mees bringz.

Ahed skurries a tinie skout
dat seemz ta noe da waye
too da seecret place.
Noe dainjer, noe anteeters dere,
noes stampin feets,
en noe poisun tidbets waitin…
jes mees en mees gif ub huney.

Fifty Shades of Yellow – by Victor

Today I prepared another glorious story about spring in Minoc.
However, Mom… er Ivy told me not to and made me leave my fans at home.
So instead I’m going to tell you a story about the ripening of bananas during the spring harvest.
Now to be completely honest I’ve not finished reading this story as I found it this morning.
It was in a bottle that washed up next to the Minoc Docks *winkwink* but it’s pretty awesome so far.

Friday, March 6….
Today we are going to leave the island for a quick trip.
I like giving the crew some time off for some Arr and Arr.
Oh I crack myself up. Anyhow I’ve got me best deck o’ cards and a large purse of coins.
OK Diary, we just got back from our ummm shopping expedition…
I found the most extravagant, most exciting, most special banana I have ever seen.
We walked up to this dark hut and entered through the double door in front.
The center of the room was lit from light pouring through the roof and on display for everyone to see
where the most luscious pile of bananas I have ever seen.
I walked into the room and a calm hush came over me.
There they were, bunches of them, long, yellow, and ripe.
The aroma of them was wafting to me from across the room from a small breeze through the windows.
I inhaled deeply savouring the smell, I could just imagine the taste of one of those bananas as it caresses my tongue with it’s yellow flesh.
I approached the table and found several bunches that looked very enticing.
I picked a few up, turned a few of them over inspecting the yellow length of each one.
The weight of them in my hand was reassuring.
Each one a meal that would tax my stamina, even on such an invigorating day as today.
That’s when I saw it. It was perfect.
I brushed aside a few green bunches and reached across the table to the perfect specimen.
Cradling it in my hand I lifted gently in my palm.
Grasping it between my fingers I could tell by it’s firmness that it was in it’s prime.
It’s weight, it’s color, it’s length, the aroma of it was just perfect.
Lifting it from the table made all the other bananas look bruised and splotchy.
Holding it up to the light I grabbed it with both hands.
I lifted it above my hand and shouted at the top of my lungs.
“I have found you! You are now mine ‘special banana’!”
The tension inside me was mounting, it was reaching a level I couldn’t contain.
I dropped a hand to my side, scanned the room with a fury in my eye.
I toss my hand at the proprietor of the store, teleporting him to me, and seized him by the throat.
After crushing the life out of him I felt confident only I will be privy to this moment of weakness.
Alone now with my special banana, a soothing calm fell over me.
I proceeded to sheath the banana in my pack and exited this den of fruit flesh.
The sky was brighter than before, the spring air fresher and saltier than earlier.
I headed back to the docks. It was time to round up the crew and head back home.
~ Signed Corgul

Spring – by Nubby Earwiggles


The Sacking of Pitmuck – by Ilex de Plume

As passeth the seasons, so changeth one’s fate
And the winter hath taken its due,
But the coming of spring
Heralds new beginnings
For one fallen from might to start new.

The home of a sailor is always the sea,
But every ship needs a port.
When one’s fortune has turned
And some bridges have burned,
One rethinks one’s approach to her sport.

A whisper of fortune, a rumor of wealth,
And the thought of regaining her hold
Over cities she’d lost
When she’d paid a great cost
Taking on a strategy too bold–

She considers with doubt the tales she has heard
But her deep skepticism has reason–
For the relative measure
That defines “buried treasure”
To those there likely means “turnip season”.

The unlikeliest home of some refugees of
The dark Underworld is an isle
That lay on the sea lane
Between Cove and Britain–
Goblin folk of peculiar style.

Only barely do they even speak the King’s tongue
(And in fact, oft do they earn his ire)
And though they should have known better
In naivete they let her
Push her devious plan to transpire.

She concocts this new plan and assembles her crews,
Loudly speaks where she knows they will hear
Only that which she knows
Will invigorate those
Who’ve before and would yet interfere.

Finalizing details, she soon makes her first move,
Heads toward where her enemies have pent;
Sends her fleet on their way
While she alone stays
To distract them from her true intent.

Like a new Trinsic rose at the dawning of spring,
Her plan unfolds into full bloom.
They accept all her lies
And fail to realize
They’re ensuring another isle’s doom.

She harasses and taunts with the motliest beasts
For her sailors are busy elsewhere!
She fights and she maims,
Makes ridiculous claims;
Only too late do they ‘come aware

That once more she has played them; her plan’s a success.
Even the bitter taste of the vile
Turnip paste that she stole
That should have been a bowl
Of ice cream could not waver her smile.

By diverting attention away from her goal
And keeping firm steady hand at her helm,
Aiming enemies eyes
To the far lesser prize,
She now sits on the throne of Nujel’m!

So the moral is two-fold: one should always think twice
‘Fore accepting a pirate’s loud gloats
Or ‘fore eating what seems
To be normal ice cream
From an island with no cows or goats.

Spring – by Nanoc

January is blinding after the holidays aglow

February is hiding from the cold and the snow

March is unfolding and so is the earth

April is rainy so no dance nor sing

May is here, we’re happy it’s SPRING!

Yellow Bird – by Murdock Redbone

Yellow Bird
Yellow Bill
Sittin on
My window sill
lured him in
with a piece of bread
then I SMASHED his little head!

Lady Phoenix demonstrated spring with a bowl of hard dirt – her plant never did sprout. There were also entries from Tehan, and Murdock which I hope to have copies of soon. Hopefully I haven’t forgotten anyone!

*edit* – Now included Murdock’s entry.

About Ashlynn

I play with movable type on behalf of the PaxLair Times. I sometimes move the little wooden letters around to create something resembling an article. And I come and go like the wind.
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