So... I've been thinking about submitting a bardic entry. I gave up on "A theory on the Planar Nature of Lusternia" 
and have gone for something a bit more informal and fun...
So the question is... should I continue with my try and enter the bardic contest? Or give up and go back to mapping where I'm at least half decent? Here is what I have so far. Please give comments! (don't be too harsh!)
A Boy and His Dog
This is a story about a boy and his dog, the age old partnership. It is shining example of love and loyalty that exists between a lad and his hound. Two inseparable friends exploring life together in a tale that will bring tears of joy to your eyes.
…
Well ok, I admit, in this story it's not actually a dog it's an Algontherine. But don't let that put you off reading further! Algontherines can be loyal too you know! Plus they don't bark and chase cats. However, you can't really pet them or take them for walks. You can't feed them dog biscuits either. I swear I tried every variety! Even the dubious combination of Snow Valley Hare and Moon River Trout flavour. The Algontherine in the advert loved them! I just don't understand why mine didn't. I tried the NexusPowerJelly ones, but all he does is lick off the jelly and leave the biscuits alone!
Actually, if I'm really honest - which I'm trying to be more often since the trouble with the fake powerstones - it isn't really a story about a boy either. Unless you're counting in backward dog years would make this story's hero... Thirteen and a half! Yes, let’s go with that, 13 1/2 years old. After all he is still at school; he is just a bit big for his age. All the other school children make fun of him because he doesn't have the latest Fesix skin lunchbox and they won't play with him because of his beard. But mummy says I'm better off without them anyway.
Well I mean... his mother said he was better off without them. Ahem, so, anyway...
Maybe I should start this story again?
A long, long time ago, in a age so distant Mother Moon Herself was absent from our skies** there lived an Elf, a sprightly 13 and a 1/2 year old lad who had a passion for exploring. For several years he had roamed the forest around his home charting where all the big trees and rivers were and plotting it all out on parchment which his mother had bought him instead of the Fesix skin lunchbox.
**Ok, Ok! It was last week and it was a new moon! Apparently I'm not doing so well on this honesty thing.
He had asked for the lunchbox of course. However, apparently, parchment and quills were better presents, far more educational.
I think the less said about the prayer note to Kethuru for a swap, which his dad found under the bed, the better.
Despite all the problems at school and the visits to the schools Furrikin counsellor the lad really was a talented map maker. So much so that when by chance he showed his forest map to some of the commune elders they were astounded and asked for him to make more, he even won the Best Young Elf award at the next commune festival, a really super pair of Allisaurus shoes as the prize.
The other kids beat him up for that and stole the shoes, but the socks still smelt like Allisaur and were quickly stashed in his rift!
Of course the trouble really started when the gnomes showed up.
It was a sunny day, the light streaming through the forest canopy high above covering the forest floor in a myriad of moving patterns. The sweet scents of nature permeated the air, filling the lungs of wildlife and people alike, and creating an overwhelming feeling of vibrancy and life that was impossible to resist. Impossible that is, unless your name is Felix.
- Did I mention our young hero's name is Felix? I'm sure I did! -
Felix was in a bad mood. He had fallen asleep the night before drawing a map of Moondance Tower, which his dad had taken him to see at the weekend, and the left side of his face was now a perfect mirror print of the floor plan of the tower. He had scrubbed for ages but it just wasn't coming off, and then his mother had told him off for not doing his Wicca homework! So for the poor tattooed Felix sulkily making his way to the commune shops to buy magic soap, the last thing on his mind was the beautiful marble effect of the sunlight on the earth, and the Centaur dung he just stepped it certainly wasn't sweet smelling!
- Keen eyed readers may be wondering at this point how at 13 1/2 reverse dog years - that’s 67 normal years to you and me - Felix could still be living at home and going to school. Even for the long lived Elves 67yo is a little old to still be in school! Well let’s just say, there is a reason cousins shouldn't marry. -
Felix heard the commotion long before he saw the branches of the majestic Moonheart Tree. He wasn't surprised then when the throng of people gathered at the base of the giant tree came into view. Hurrying over Felix worked his way through the crowd to get a better view, finding a gap near to an old Centaur male.
and have gone for something a bit more informal and fun...So the question is... should I continue with my try and enter the bardic contest? Or give up and go back to mapping where I'm at least half decent? Here is what I have so far. Please give comments! (don't be too harsh!)
A Boy and His Dog
This is a story about a boy and his dog, the age old partnership. It is shining example of love and loyalty that exists between a lad and his hound. Two inseparable friends exploring life together in a tale that will bring tears of joy to your eyes.
…
Well ok, I admit, in this story it's not actually a dog it's an Algontherine. But don't let that put you off reading further! Algontherines can be loyal too you know! Plus they don't bark and chase cats. However, you can't really pet them or take them for walks. You can't feed them dog biscuits either. I swear I tried every variety! Even the dubious combination of Snow Valley Hare and Moon River Trout flavour. The Algontherine in the advert loved them! I just don't understand why mine didn't. I tried the NexusPowerJelly ones, but all he does is lick off the jelly and leave the biscuits alone!
Actually, if I'm really honest - which I'm trying to be more often since the trouble with the fake powerstones - it isn't really a story about a boy either. Unless you're counting in backward dog years would make this story's hero... Thirteen and a half! Yes, let’s go with that, 13 1/2 years old. After all he is still at school; he is just a bit big for his age. All the other school children make fun of him because he doesn't have the latest Fesix skin lunchbox and they won't play with him because of his beard. But mummy says I'm better off without them anyway.
Well I mean... his mother said he was better off without them. Ahem, so, anyway...
Maybe I should start this story again?
A long, long time ago, in a age so distant Mother Moon Herself was absent from our skies** there lived an Elf, a sprightly 13 and a 1/2 year old lad who had a passion for exploring. For several years he had roamed the forest around his home charting where all the big trees and rivers were and plotting it all out on parchment which his mother had bought him instead of the Fesix skin lunchbox.
**Ok, Ok! It was last week and it was a new moon! Apparently I'm not doing so well on this honesty thing.
He had asked for the lunchbox of course. However, apparently, parchment and quills were better presents, far more educational.
I think the less said about the prayer note to Kethuru for a swap, which his dad found under the bed, the better.
Despite all the problems at school and the visits to the schools Furrikin counsellor the lad really was a talented map maker. So much so that when by chance he showed his forest map to some of the commune elders they were astounded and asked for him to make more, he even won the Best Young Elf award at the next commune festival, a really super pair of Allisaurus shoes as the prize.
The other kids beat him up for that and stole the shoes, but the socks still smelt like Allisaur and were quickly stashed in his rift!
Of course the trouble really started when the gnomes showed up.
It was a sunny day, the light streaming through the forest canopy high above covering the forest floor in a myriad of moving patterns. The sweet scents of nature permeated the air, filling the lungs of wildlife and people alike, and creating an overwhelming feeling of vibrancy and life that was impossible to resist. Impossible that is, unless your name is Felix.
- Did I mention our young hero's name is Felix? I'm sure I did! -
Felix was in a bad mood. He had fallen asleep the night before drawing a map of Moondance Tower, which his dad had taken him to see at the weekend, and the left side of his face was now a perfect mirror print of the floor plan of the tower. He had scrubbed for ages but it just wasn't coming off, and then his mother had told him off for not doing his Wicca homework! So for the poor tattooed Felix sulkily making his way to the commune shops to buy magic soap, the last thing on his mind was the beautiful marble effect of the sunlight on the earth, and the Centaur dung he just stepped it certainly wasn't sweet smelling!
- Keen eyed readers may be wondering at this point how at 13 1/2 reverse dog years - that’s 67 normal years to you and me - Felix could still be living at home and going to school. Even for the long lived Elves 67yo is a little old to still be in school! Well let’s just say, there is a reason cousins shouldn't marry. -
Felix heard the commotion long before he saw the branches of the majestic Moonheart Tree. He wasn't surprised then when the throng of people gathered at the base of the giant tree came into view. Hurrying over Felix worked his way through the crowd to get a better view, finding a gap near to an old Centaur male.
