Friday Fiction: 100 Word Challenge

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by Smitty

King Korbill at Valley Myzods


Sky brooding: doom of the gods,
King Korbill surveys the field,
where destiny would soon drink.

“Ten-to-one odds. Perhaps yield?”
inquires Marshall Kornods,
indulging in common-think.

“A final trump we will wield,
ere River Myzods runs pink,”
the monarch he grimly nods.

Enemy horde on the brink,
and his kingdom’s doom well-sealed,
Korbill is freed from the odds.

Battle is joined and the stink
of death fills Valley Myzods.
Upriver: Wizard Zygiell’d

Loosens the barrier clods
holding Myzods at a kink;
watery wall was concealed.

The flood drowns marauding sods.
Korbill’s demise is revealed.
Remorseless sky gives a wink.

via Darleen at Protein Wisdom

UPDATE: s/broken link/Wizard Zygiell’d/ in the fifth stanza to keep the form correct. Writing fantasy makes this easy; just throw in some whacky name where a rhyme is hard to come by.

17 comments

  9. “Why is the sky so dark?” wondered Athron, a frightened look crossing his face.

    Lillium could feel her heart thud in her chest. “I don’t know. It’s not evening. I’ve never seen the sky darken any other time.”

    “And the wind smells…strange,” added Athron. Lillium could only nod in agreement.

    The pair screamed as some sort of liquid began to fall copiously from the sky. Chaos reigned around them as the people scattered here and there, not understanding what was happening to them.

    Lillium shrieked, “Could Noah be right? Is this God’s judgment?”

    “No,” said Athron. “That guy is crazy.”

  10. The sky looked apocalyptically dark and sinister, Ann reflected, as she glanced upward. She thought the woman’s lies and excuses seemed limitless, but nevertheless, her job was to report on this press conference.

    Ann began scribbling as the former Secretary of State said something truly interesting. “I turned all my pertinent emails over to the State Department. If I’m lying, may God strike me dead right now,” cackled the old crone.

    Just then, an enormous bolt of lightning flashed, and the woman was reduced to a sizzling stain on the pavement.

    “Huh,” said Ann. “I guess the presser is over.”

  11. Mike, the street evangelist, was counseling Eddie about his habitual sin and his need for repentance. Just then, Mike received a text from a missionary friend, “Something up, entire world covered with dark clouds.” Mike looked up, and the sky above him seemed ominous; somehow prophetic.

    Concerned, Mike warned Eddie again, “You’ve got to repent, Eddie, before it’s too late. The end times are surely upon us.”

    Just then, a crazy-loud trumpet sounded a long call, and Mike disappeared, along with others here and there.

    “No!” shrieked a woman. “Is this the Rapture?”

    “Can’t be,” said Eddie. “I’m still here.”

  13. I stay away from beaches more than anyplace else… that’s when they come out – the dead. On bright sunny days – more than anywhere else. The last time I went to the beach I saw the horror of hundreds of pale walking dead limned in light so bright it hurt my eyes and caught at me, just as the dead were caught between a world of vulgar brightness and wormy luminosity. No one noticed them, no one else could see them but me. The ghostly apparitions ignored me, but I knew they knew… knew that I was there… knew that I could see them.

  14. […] from Jimmie’s great story, who snagged the idea from from Darleen at protein wisdom and Smitty at The Other McCain.  Mine is 106 words, but whatever. Don’t judge me! Or actually do. What do you think? Join […]

  15. I ignored the poem part because I have revolted. Henceforth I command the lines and the syllables as i see fit.

    Furthermore…

  16. The poetic form is just some additional madness on my part. The main point here is to cram an epic fantasy into 100 words. Get stuffed, George R. R. Martin.

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