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halfshellvenusHere Be Dragons
Idol Wheel of Chaos | Week 9 | 1129 words
Edgelord
x-x-x-x-x
Sverre Ormgard lived on the island of Verheim, a lonely outpost on the bitter edge of the Western sea.
There, he kept watch over the horizon, searching for ships that sailed toward the waters beyond his island boundary. Those ships were often lost, as maps for his region of the world were clearly marked with the cautionary words, Here be dragons.
Sverre fed his signal fire day and night, that sailors might find his island even in the gloom and dark. Some of the ships would sail into his lagoon and send a landing party ashore, where Sverre waited to greet them. Those were the times he enjoyed the most.
Sverre would invite the sailors to his cabin and give them fresh spring water to drink. He might also offer a few apples from the island's leeward side, in exchange for a story. Sverre dearly loved stories.
Tales of kings and warriors or dragons and princesses delighted him. Even fables were welcome, if they were all his guests knew. Sverre had visitors from many lands, and some were richer in lore than others. In turn, he would recite a story he had learned from another vessel. Sometimes he would be offered stories he had previously shared, and this amused him, for the phrasing and the details always seemed to have changed.
Not all of his guests were strangers. Many ships sailed North to South and back again, and their steersmen might choose to visit him out of friendship or in the hope of waiting out a perilous storm. Some brought him gifts of fermented drinks or fruits from other climes, or even the occasional sheep to add to his small flock. All brought word of life beyond the island, whether it was new discoveries and ideas, or shifting borders and fallen kings.
Hakon Jarlssen was one of Sverre's favorites visitors. A big bear of a man, Hakon came from the Northern lands where the winters were long and the summer sun shone far into the night. He had been to places Sverre had never heard of, and met people whose appearance Sverre struggled to imagine.
"They have great grey creatures with long, wrinkled noses," Hakon said after one such trip, "and enormous cat-like animals with spotted hides that are too dangerous to approach. I have seen barren stretches of heat-scorched land, where beautiful women have skin the color of night. And there are whole villages where grown men are the size of children!"
It all sounded so wondrous, and so very far away. Sverre longed to see some of those places himself, but his work as a guardian was too important to leave. He knew there were other outposts at the edges of the sea to the North and South of him. Did their keepers ever long to wander as well?
Some of the ships brought music with them. Sverre loved melodies almost as much as stories, although he could not make music of his own. His voice rasped too much to be suitable for singing, and his fingers were not agile enough for a lute or lyre. Still, he enjoyed hearing others make music. Guillaume Lebec's men sang the merriest tunes, while Domenico Analdo's crew knew the saddest. Sverre would happily listen all night long and into the next morning if only his visitors were able, but they all tired more easily than he.
Late spring and summer were the best seasons, full of good weather and good company. Winter was the worst, a seemingly endless period marked by cold and dark and loneliness. In wintertime, Sverre spent long days and weeks tending his fires, remembering stories, and waiting for the arrival of spring. His sheep and the island's birds were his sole companions then.
One day in early April, Sverre saw a familiar vessel appear on the horizon. It was Hakon's longship, with its red and white striped sail. Sverre's spirits lifted at the thought of seeing his old friend again.
"It has been too long," Sverre said, when Hakon strode out of the sea.
Hakon clasped his shoulder. "I have much to tell you," he said.
Since autumn, Hakon's wife had given him a son. Sverre congratulated him, but could not help thinking about his own son, whom he had not seen in years. That had been a lifetime ago, before Sverre first came to Verheim. It hardly seemed real now. He wondered if his son even remembered him.
"But the most important news is our upcoming adventure," Hakon said. "In the morning, we sail for the unknown seas beyond!"
"Beyond?" Sverre asked.
"To the West, out into the mysteries of the deep."
"But the West is the realm of dragons, dear friend," Sverre said. "I fear you will not survive!"
"Ah, Sverre," Hakon said, "do not fret. I am not a superstitious man."
All night long, Sverre tried to dissuade Hakon from his plans. But Hakon was born from the blood of warriors, and he remained steadfast in his mission.
Sverre rose early the next morning, but Hakon's ship was already gone.
He had been worrying about this for years, Sverre realized. Hakon's love of exploring was always destined to lead them to this point.
Sverre hastened off after Hakon's ship, already dreading what awaited him.
There, in the dark blue waters of the deep, Sverre spied the ship as it sped off into the fading blackness of the vanishing night. Faster and faster Sverre went, until he caught up with it at last.
Then he rose above the ship in his terrible true form, wings spread horrifyingly wide against the sky. He breathed out a powerful stream of fire that stretched through the air and engulfed the ship’s sail in flames.
Terrible screams filled the early dawn, and the dragon watched the sailors dodge the burning remnants of falling cloth as they rushed for their oars. Hakon stood on the deck, staring up at him in amazement and surprise, and Sverre felt a tinge of remorse as he thought about the dreams he was forcing his friend to abandon.
But he had shown far more mercy to these men than most, Sverre thought, as the sailors began rowing in the direction of land. Were it not for Hakon, the entire crew would be dying while their ship collapsed in on itself and slowly sank into the sea.
Instead, they would survive, and never begin to fathom the truth. The dragon had protected his realm and always would, regardless of the means required.
Flying in a wide arc to the South and East, the dragon made his way back toward his island. There, he would take on the form of Sverre again, and resume his long, lonely wait for new ships to come find him.
--/--
Voting information to follow soon...
Idol Wheel of Chaos | Week 9 | 1129 words
Edgelord
x-x-x-x-x
Sverre Ormgard lived on the island of Verheim, a lonely outpost on the bitter edge of the Western sea.
There, he kept watch over the horizon, searching for ships that sailed toward the waters beyond his island boundary. Those ships were often lost, as maps for his region of the world were clearly marked with the cautionary words, Here be dragons.
Sverre fed his signal fire day and night, that sailors might find his island even in the gloom and dark. Some of the ships would sail into his lagoon and send a landing party ashore, where Sverre waited to greet them. Those were the times he enjoyed the most.
Sverre would invite the sailors to his cabin and give them fresh spring water to drink. He might also offer a few apples from the island's leeward side, in exchange for a story. Sverre dearly loved stories.
Tales of kings and warriors or dragons and princesses delighted him. Even fables were welcome, if they were all his guests knew. Sverre had visitors from many lands, and some were richer in lore than others. In turn, he would recite a story he had learned from another vessel. Sometimes he would be offered stories he had previously shared, and this amused him, for the phrasing and the details always seemed to have changed.
Not all of his guests were strangers. Many ships sailed North to South and back again, and their steersmen might choose to visit him out of friendship or in the hope of waiting out a perilous storm. Some brought him gifts of fermented drinks or fruits from other climes, or even the occasional sheep to add to his small flock. All brought word of life beyond the island, whether it was new discoveries and ideas, or shifting borders and fallen kings.
Hakon Jarlssen was one of Sverre's favorites visitors. A big bear of a man, Hakon came from the Northern lands where the winters were long and the summer sun shone far into the night. He had been to places Sverre had never heard of, and met people whose appearance Sverre struggled to imagine.
"They have great grey creatures with long, wrinkled noses," Hakon said after one such trip, "and enormous cat-like animals with spotted hides that are too dangerous to approach. I have seen barren stretches of heat-scorched land, where beautiful women have skin the color of night. And there are whole villages where grown men are the size of children!"
It all sounded so wondrous, and so very far away. Sverre longed to see some of those places himself, but his work as a guardian was too important to leave. He knew there were other outposts at the edges of the sea to the North and South of him. Did their keepers ever long to wander as well?
Some of the ships brought music with them. Sverre loved melodies almost as much as stories, although he could not make music of his own. His voice rasped too much to be suitable for singing, and his fingers were not agile enough for a lute or lyre. Still, he enjoyed hearing others make music. Guillaume Lebec's men sang the merriest tunes, while Domenico Analdo's crew knew the saddest. Sverre would happily listen all night long and into the next morning if only his visitors were able, but they all tired more easily than he.
Late spring and summer were the best seasons, full of good weather and good company. Winter was the worst, a seemingly endless period marked by cold and dark and loneliness. In wintertime, Sverre spent long days and weeks tending his fires, remembering stories, and waiting for the arrival of spring. His sheep and the island's birds were his sole companions then.
One day in early April, Sverre saw a familiar vessel appear on the horizon. It was Hakon's longship, with its red and white striped sail. Sverre's spirits lifted at the thought of seeing his old friend again.
"It has been too long," Sverre said, when Hakon strode out of the sea.
Hakon clasped his shoulder. "I have much to tell you," he said.
Since autumn, Hakon's wife had given him a son. Sverre congratulated him, but could not help thinking about his own son, whom he had not seen in years. That had been a lifetime ago, before Sverre first came to Verheim. It hardly seemed real now. He wondered if his son even remembered him.
"But the most important news is our upcoming adventure," Hakon said. "In the morning, we sail for the unknown seas beyond!"
"Beyond?" Sverre asked.
"To the West, out into the mysteries of the deep."
"But the West is the realm of dragons, dear friend," Sverre said. "I fear you will not survive!"
"Ah, Sverre," Hakon said, "do not fret. I am not a superstitious man."
All night long, Sverre tried to dissuade Hakon from his plans. But Hakon was born from the blood of warriors, and he remained steadfast in his mission.
Sverre rose early the next morning, but Hakon's ship was already gone.
He had been worrying about this for years, Sverre realized. Hakon's love of exploring was always destined to lead them to this point.
Sverre hastened off after Hakon's ship, already dreading what awaited him.
There, in the dark blue waters of the deep, Sverre spied the ship as it sped off into the fading blackness of the vanishing night. Faster and faster Sverre went, until he caught up with it at last.
Then he rose above the ship in his terrible true form, wings spread horrifyingly wide against the sky. He breathed out a powerful stream of fire that stretched through the air and engulfed the ship’s sail in flames.
Terrible screams filled the early dawn, and the dragon watched the sailors dodge the burning remnants of falling cloth as they rushed for their oars. Hakon stood on the deck, staring up at him in amazement and surprise, and Sverre felt a tinge of remorse as he thought about the dreams he was forcing his friend to abandon.
But he had shown far more mercy to these men than most, Sverre thought, as the sailors began rowing in the direction of land. Were it not for Hakon, the entire crew would be dying while their ship collapsed in on itself and slowly sank into the sea.
Instead, they would survive, and never begin to fathom the truth. The dragon had protected his realm and always would, regardless of the means required.
Flying in a wide arc to the South and East, the dragon made his way back toward his island. There, he would take on the form of Sverre again, and resume his long, lonely wait for new ships to come find him.
--/--
Voting information to follow soon...
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 11:46 am (UTC)I've always loved your pacing when you tell a straightforward story. I don't know if you consciously do it, but every sentence/paragraph is very deliberate and I think it meshes well with the pacing.
I know about the poisoning. It's such a disjointed season. I imagine those we'll all go back into the game at some point?
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 05:47 pm (UTC)I was hoping to get a timeless feeling for this story, and to immerse the reader in the setting. I hope this did the trick?
The poisoning was a hard blow, and I'm not a fan of how that has worked this season for anyone. How will I get more angel-cop noir when we broke Faust's flow for writing that series?
Whether people might come back, and under what circumstances, is up to the spin of the wheel. Apparently, the possibility is there, but there's no way of knowing whether it will come up. \o?
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 07:58 pm (UTC)I'm not a fan of the poisoning. I still don't quite understand it. I think doing it in a written manner as opposed to IRL makes it convoluted. For instance, when you vote for whoever you think the killer is, what's the criteria? And what's the criteria for being killed other than the killer thinking you're a threat?
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 09:07 pm (UTC)And it seems like the collective votes have to ID a killer for it to work. So, if I vote for X (and X is a killer) and the group's greatest votes are for B (not a killer), then X is still free to kill again. I think.
The killers can poison anyone they want, and I think a poisoning takes a bye each time. If you have no byes left, that results in your being poisoned. BUT... and I'm not sure how this works... do the killers also have to reach some kind of consensus with their votes in order to successfully poison? I.e., if one votes for J and two vote for K, is K the only one that gets poisoned?
I have no idea how all this is supposed to work. I'm from the same generation as you, so I don't have the video game (or D&D-type-game?) background that would make any of this familiar.
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 03:59 pm (UTC)This was a great story!
Dan
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 06:06 pm (UTC)So glad you enjoyed this. Thanks for reading my doomed entry!
no subject
Date: 2025-09-12 10:04 pm (UTC)I really loved this piece. You deserved a much better fate than this. I'm so sorry.
no subject
Date: 2025-09-14 10:23 pm (UTC)I feel bad for Sverre as well-- what a lonely duty, especially for someone who enjoys having company so much.
I'm so glad you like this, and I would have expected to survive another week with this story under normal circumstances. It sucks to be blindsided for no apparent reason.
no subject
Date: 2025-09-13 07:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-09-14 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-09-14 08:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-09-14 10:34 pm (UTC)