Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Riddle Ogre Sneak Peak...

Come one, come two, come many, come all! To the latest wrinkle in the geriatric face of Iron Wyvern (I'm feeling poetic, humor me)!
Due to a jump in productivity, the Riddle Ogre FINALE is coming along well, and should be finished by posted by midnight on Sunday, give or take a moon or two.
And so I have decided to publish a snippet of the writing as a sneak peak to show you slightly of what is to come in the final installment of….dun-dun…The Riddle Ogre

...The figure’s body drifted closer, a phantom pushing through the darkness towards Ander’s prostrate form.
            A dull crack of metal, a low but vehement swear word. The form had stepped on his broken phone. At least the thing wasn’t a ghost.
         Mobilized suddenly by the figure’s hesitation atop his phone, Ander scooted backwards, flailing his left foot out wildly in a vacillating kick.
         His heel contacted with something hard and nobly, like a knee. It discharged like the crack of a rifle, and the figure howled in evident pain, and swayed backwards away from Ander, swearing as it tumbled.
         Crawling to his feet, Ander raced at the hunched figure, his riddle book raised like a grenade


Ah, but that's not all. That was only the peak at the beginning. Now I shall uncover an exclusive look at a spot in the midst of the paragraphs, what will it uncover, what will it show?!….

...Reeling slightly at the boy' puncture of his lie, Ander barely realized that his accent had changed from British to a dull drawl. Before he could reply, the boy spoke again, this time back in his British accent.
         If you must know, chap, my name's Edwin. Edwin Nigma, if you're interested in sir names."
          His sentence was finalized by the soft implosion of the match head, dousing Ander and the boy into a well of hungry shade…


Tell us what you think in the comments, and lets see if you like the whole thing on Sunday.

J.T.Z. Baner

Monday, February 17, 2014

But Wait! There's A...

Time limit. I probably should have thought of this and put it in the first story prompt post before it was up on the blog, but there will now be a time limit on said story prompt. All entrances to the story must be emailed by the end of this week, or they are made redundant. What happens if nobody is actually reading this and nobody is writing anything for the story prompt is...classified information, which i cannot divulge at the moment for fear of endangering our troops in the field.

-T. Baner

Friday, February 14, 2014

Once There Was a Nightclub - STORY PROMPT

Hello Readers,
First off let me assure you that we have not forgotten about the Ogre story we have been writing of late on the blog, it's just been delayed in the conclusion. The final installment should be up on the blog in the next couple of weeks.
In the meantime, we are publishing our first Story Prompt, the first of many more to come we fervently hope. Here's how it works.
First, we write the short beginning to a story, then we post it on the blog. You, the reading corps, read the story at your leisure, and then, get to complete the story yourselves.
How do you do this, you ask? By simply writing the rest of the story as you think it should go in a word document and then attaching that same document to an email, and sending it to our gmail account at vertex249@gmail.com. We get to choose whose conclusion to the story is the best, and, once the judging is completed, we post that document for all to read!
Rules: we would prefer you to, as much as possible, stay within the parameters of the story as begun by the first post. For example, don't turn a Wild Western story in a thrilling tale of kidnap and Piracy on the high seas. Wherever possible, please keep the story going in vaguely the same direction as it started in. Of course, you are permitted to write the story in whatever way you like, it will be entirely your ending, but also, please don't bomb the story. As much as possible, don't simply make everything blow up and everyone die before anything really happens.
Hope you enjoy and I can't wait to read the endings!

-T. Baner


Searching for a murderer in a nightclub is something like trying to find an individual pimble on a teenager’s face: there seem to always be just too many to count. Of course, my job was slightly easier for me, because this was no ordinary man I was looking for, and there would be signs. Why, you ask? Because these things always leave signs.
I made my way slowly through the crowd, elbowing a path in between the hordes of people gathered around the gambling tables, careful not to rub too close to anyone in case they feel the the sharp edges beneath my jacket and wonder what I was carrying concealed there. I ignored the roar of mingled disapointment and rabid approval from the table next to me as the winner of a round is called, doing my best to shut out as much unnecessary noise as possible as I made m search.
I detected the smells powerful deoderent, ciggarette smoke, liquor and body-odor, but all of these smells mask what I was really looking for.
Pausing for a moment in the midst of all the bustle, I once more attempted to smell out my prey, taking a deep, searching sniff of the air.
I gagged, choking on the sudden odor I detected in the air: brimstone, something like copper too, which meant that I was very, very close.
I turned slowly on the spot, searching for the signs. I’d found the smell, now I needed the actual thing.
Most of the people here are well dressed, so that theory went out the window. Quite a few of them had an odd look to them too; a man in jeans that seemed to have been alternately torn, stained and burned, and a shaven head with inky-black tattoos so thick and dark crawling all across his face that the features are barely distinguishable, a young woman with almost translucent white skin and hair and yellow eyes, who puffed ceaselessly on a bamboo pipe, and a woman in a leopard-print dress with slit-pupils to her eyes. Implanted lenses maybe, or maybe not.
But none of these people really held my interest for long whether or not they are actually as human as they are pretending is a matter for another department to deal with. I skimmed over the majoity of the people around the gambling table until at last; my eye falls on one man.
He was standing at the far side of the table, people flocking around him on all sides as he tosses the dice once more. Another roar of approval from the man’s supporters and a grin from the man himself that pulls his lips back to reveal large, straight, very white teeth. He was neither extremely tall, nor short in any way. His hands were large, with long, delicate fingers and his face seemed to be at once, extremely expressive, and guarded, his yellow eyes sunk deep in his head, were lit with a ravenous glee. The features of his face were finely chiseled, and his hair was dark and styled, gelled and spiked, and opaque black.
But his clothes were what interested me most. His suit was made of some sort of animal skin, scaly and rough and some indefineable color, spiky here, gnarled there, obviously tough, yet, from the man’s movements, seemingly cumfortable.
It was him, I knew it with an unnerring certainty, the kind that always proceeds a kill.

Slowly, casually, careful so as not to draw notice to myself, I slid one hand inside my jacket, and found the hilt of my concealed blade.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Riddling Ogre Derby Results!

The time has come, the hour is nigh....The fat lady has warbled, the moon has set, and the Riddling Ogre Derby is won!
The winner of the first, and last, riddling Ogre Derby, is....da-dum...da-dum....ANASTASIA!!!
Congratulations! Adulations! Asphyxiations!
Lets see how the riddle-and-answer results pan out:

Riddle Alpha:What do you get when you cross an Automobile with a household animal?
Solution: A rug (Incorrectly answered by Dmitri Pendragon. Incorrectly answered by Anastasia).

Solution: Too wise you are, too wise you be, I see you are too wise for me. (Correctly answered by Anastasia. Dmitri Pendragon unable to answer)

Riddle Gamma: My First is in Hound, but not in Dog. My Second is in Woof, but not in Dark. My Third is in Whine, but not in Whimper. My Fourth is in Muzzle, but not in Mutt. My Fifth is in Puppy, but not in Cur.
What am I?
Solution:  Honey (Correctly answered by Anastasia. Correctly answered by Dmitri Pendragon).

So, as you see, a very near win. Awesome job Dmitri on your answers as well!
If you'll look at the Hall of riddlers tab, you'll find the newest winner carved there in the pixels.
Now Anastasia is given the prize! What name shall you give to the newest character in the until now unfinished Novella, the Riddle Ogre?!
Comment below with your answer, and all followers feel free to join in! Carpe Diem, and be nice to hamsters.

J.T.Z. Baner

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Riddling Ogre Derby

Greetings! And welcome to the next Derby de Riddle, except, this day; we do it differently.
As you have noticed, we were unable to post the final installment of the Riddle Ogre story, due to complications involving smelly socks, anonymous computer nerds, and a very fat gerbil.
However, now we are working hard on finishing the Ogre-oriented Novella, and we give you a chance to have a part in this final section of the story, as their will obviously be no poles at the end of the story.
Here're the rules:
In this unit addition to the Riddling Derby saga, we shall post a series of riddles, and whoever solves most or even all of them, will be allowed to…(commence rising tide of suspenseful music)…Name the character that Ander meets in the starting pages of the Finale Installment.
If you are brave enough, read the riddles below and see if you can rise to the occasion. If you are not, we shall mash you up and feed to our pet Wyvern. Let us begin….

(Challenging) Riddle Alpha: What do you get when you cross an Automobile with a household animal?

(Hard) Riddle Beta: YYURYYUBICURYY4me

(Hardest) Riddle Gamma: My First is in Hound, but not in Dog. My Second is in Woof, but not in Dark. My Third is in Whine, but not in Whimper. My Fourth is in Muzzle, but not in Mutt. My Fifth is in Puppy, but not in Cur.
What am I?

There you go, three riddles that, if answered correctly, shall give you power unimagined over the story to come.
(Hints are available for a flattering person who buys stock in starbursts)

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Weekend Disaster Post

We interrupt the Week of the Ogre slightly today by posting an update on the well known criminal mastermind The Hooded Huddleglum.
NOTICE: Tomorrow the Finale of the Riddle Ogre short story will be posted, so put your votes in for what happens at the end of the last installment!

Hooded Huddleglum in Custody: Early this morning, in the capital city of Wenidoogoo; the widely renowned felon under the name ‘The Hooded Huddleglum’ was captured while playing blackjacks on the roof of city hall with several Ogres.

            Mr. Huddleglum refused to reveal the reason for his actions atop the capital’s building, and was charged with multiple felonies, including loitering with intent to TP, ambushing government employees, and the attempt at passing a law banning maple syrup.

            His maple syrup prejudices notwithstanding, Mr. Huddleglum was taken in an armored truck to his temporary holding cell in the grottoes underneath the Dynamite and Molasses Factory Firm. His arresting officers obviously a few chips short of a crisp bag, locked him in a minimum security cave; with a rusty lock…and shuttered windows…close to an access shaft.

            Soon after his imprisonment, witnesses heard an elephant playing the musical saw close by their charges cell, at least they thought that was what it was, and immediately ran to the cell, to see no musical pachyderm, but an exploded cell door; and a note stuck to the wall with a wad of gum saying:

IVe Es Caped I uSeD Ur MagaZ InES TWO WritE ThiS
 Fuming with anger at the theft of their Hunting Quarterly’s, the police guard attempted to recapture the fugitive, but found that he had scarpered up the access shaft.

Aboveground, a hoard of Marshwiggle radicals had overpowered the factory patrollers, and, joined soon after by their paper clipping spattered hero, they set to work inside the factory, witnessed by several hidden factory security guards.

            Several minutes after their entrance into the factory, the crowds of depressed creatures exited, following The Hooded Huddleglum to the Wenidoogoo capital; carrying several tons of dynamite and several oceans worth of molasses.

            At roughly one-o’clock in the afternoon, the city capital was buried in a wash of molasses, and promptly sank out of sight, its foundation having been exploded by a thousand packs of cheep explosives.

            The police have continued their hunt for the fugitive Marshwiggle, but as every officer is found strapped right side down on a lamp post covered with grocery advertisements, it seems Mr. Huddleglum shall be left alone for the time being.

            As far as we have gleaned, the Marshwiggle leader has since sold several tons of protest signs, a leer jet, and three of his cotton socks on Craigslist. Why? We shall certainly never know. How? Magic.

            Written by Mister Byuninch