Jack Vaux-Harrowden
Posts: 245
1/17/2012
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The Accounting of Stories! wrote:
The First Tale (11 Echoes Won)
The Second Tale (23 Echoes Won)
The Third Tale (0 Echoes Won)
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Jack Vaux-Harrowden
Posts: 245
1/23/2012
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After rather more time than originally allotted, it appears that The Second Tale is the winner of Round 1. Congratulations, Audrey.
So, it appears that this game sort of lost its momentum near the end. Is there something to be done about that, do we think, or is it simply the nature of forums?
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whiteadder
Posts: 14
1/23/2012
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Could be....
However, it could also be due to the fact that these forums are somewhat new, or because this was a somewhat experimental forum game.
Anyway, fairly good stories for a first try. Really enjoyed Jack's.
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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/whiteadder
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Lydia Branth
Posts: 13
1/23/2012
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Don't know why it lost momentum, but I'm certainly interested in continuing to play, if that counts for anything. Don't want to let it die. : (
edited by Lydia Branth on 1/23/2012
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Branden Linton
Posts: 391
1/23/2012
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(If we were to start a second round I could sting up a yarn.)
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Brom Girvan: a man of shadows and secrets. http://echobazaar.failbettergames.com/Profile/Brom~Girvan
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Jack Vaux-Harrowden
Posts: 245
1/23/2012
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whiteadder wrote:
Could be....
However, it could also be due to the fact that these forums are somewhat new, or because this was a somewhat experimental forum game.
Anyway, fairly good stories for a first try. Really enjoyed Jack's.
Thank you!
I certainly don't intend to let this game die--and in fact I'd be eager to get started on round 2, as soon as someone (Cubethulhu, looks like) posts a story. Mostly I'm wondering if we ought to stick more closely to the original time allotments--they're rather short by forum standards, but that was the point. Do we think that'd make the pace pick up, or just leave us with really short and unsatisfying rounds?
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Urthdigger
Posts: 939
1/24/2012
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The nature of forums is that people tend to think before they post (At least, the smart ones do), especially for quite long posts. In real life, you have the pressure of people waiting, but online that pressure is quite lessened. There are two ways I can see to "fix" this in a way.
The first is to play over IMs, so that you do have the real time storytelling aspect. Though, that might not be agreeable for everyone.
The other is to induce another kind of peer pressure. Let multiple people tell their stories at once, so people feel the need to "keep up" with the others.
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Looking for second chances to maximize your loot output from those troublesome storylets? Check out our handy gang of volunteers in this thread, or even volunteer yourself!
@Urthdigger on twitter
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Lydia Branth
Posts: 13
1/24/2012
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You also have to remember that not everyone can be on at the same time, or necessarily be checking the forum every day. I think it's inevitable that the pace of this game will be slower than it would be IRL.
I'm not sure peer pressure is the best idea for keeping the speed up; personally I think I wouldn't enjoy it as much if I felt I "had" to be posting all the time.
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Jack Vaux-Harrowden
Posts: 245
1/25/2012
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I'd be open to IM sessions, but I don't think we should do that instead of the forum game, because it wouldn't work for everyone.
I'm mostly just wondering if actually enforcing the time limits allotted in the OP would do more good than harm.
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whiteadder
Posts: 14
1/26/2012
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I'd like it if you kept it on the forum, that way we could all view the results. Maybe next time you could just ensure that people are committed to seeing it through?
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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/whiteadder
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Jack Vaux-Harrowden
Posts: 245
1/27/2012
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I don't think a lack of commitment was the problem, though; everyone who promised a story posted one. The issue was, in my mind, a lack of momentum, of pace.
Speaking of which, I'm raring to start the second round; Cubethulhu mentioned that he had a story to tell, but I might not be patient enough to wait.
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Branden Linton
Posts: 391
1/27/2012
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(I guess it’s up to me to single-handedly bring back this game. =p Lets give this a shot.)
After a rather long and awkward silence the bespectacled gentlemen broke the silence with an annoyed cough. *ahrah.* "Well it seems that everyone is done telling there fascinating stories. I think that is an appropriate time as any to start my tale. What story should I tell? I have been to so many exotic places. Performed such exemplary deeds. I don't know where to begin.
Everyone in the room watches as contemplates his choice. His hand shoots under the table. For a second the crowd grows tense. What is he doing? He fidgets underneath the table for something. When he is finally satisfied he lifts the item into the light. A leather-clad note book. All that trouble for a notebook? He fiddles with the lock on the cover and opens it. Upon closer examination you realize that the leather is most currently not cowhide. What a oddly disturbing man.
He thumbs the pages of the notebook looking for just the right tale to tell the surrounding procession. He flickers through the pages at a speed that seems to fast to comprehend. Ever couple of pages are so he changes his lenses around. There must be a mad science behind this because you swear that you see tiny flames lick the sides of his brass frames.
Then suddenly with no warning he screams in joy. "AH HAH, the perfect tale for my fellow adventurers." His rather boisterous exclamation accompanied by an equally boisterous hand gesture. "Come listen to my tale fellow's you have yet to truly live until you have heard the tales of Nicoli Tashjian." This sudden change in tone is meet with a mixed acceptation. "The tale I am about to tell you is a truly extraordinary! It is called A Negotiation at the University: A tale in which nothing is traded foreverthing." He beckons you all. Everyone is as apprehensive as the next. Then again he was kind enough to listen to your tales. So courtesy dictates you must return the favor."
"Our tale starts in New York City of all places. I was visiting a associate at the university. No not the one you’re thinking of. Perish the thought. A much freer thinking gathering of individuals. This was a secret meeting place for the likes of Charles Spurgeon and Nikoli Tesla could speak to each other without the prying eyes of the inferior types breathing down their necks. Such ideals as morality and decency are thrown out the window in this wonderful place. I would give you its true name and location but I would not waste my time telling you such thing considering they would never let you in." For asecond he snickers to himself as if he had made a personal joke that no one else in the room would get. After a another awkward silence. You feel as though these are common around this man. He continues his story.
"Right I got sidetracked a bit there. Do feel free to snap me back onto my train of thought if I do that again. I seem to get off at every station." He muffles a quick snicker. "Back to the story. I was talking to an associate. A good friend that should probably remained unnamed for the time being. Political squabbles being what they are up there on the surface. I'll just say he was a very rich and powerful man of Arab descent. We had been talking about a few things here and there. Nothing to drastic really. Who was doing the most interesting things in the fields of genetics. How did I feel about some of the most recent wars. Small talk amongst great men always seems to go in a bit of a circular fashion."
"After a few hours of exceptional liquor and delicate hors d'oeuvres my Arabian friend asked me about my adventures in the Neath. A touchy subject amongst gentlemen of such high standing such as ourselves. I joked "There's not much to say that hasn't already been told to you in hushed whispers. The only thing I find different between the surface and the Neath is that up here it is much easier to find a nice glass of wine." I swirled my empty glass and the waiter rushed over to my side with a replacement.
"The Arab did not seem content with this answer. He said something in his native tongue that seemed most uncivilized. After he recomposed himself he began to ask what he really wanted to know. "From what I hear the Neath is home to a large variety of magic’s." I raised my eyebrow at this. What was he on about? The Neath has its quirks that is a fact. But to call such things magic is pure nonsense. "If there any magic’s in the Neath I have yet to see them." I told him in a calm collected tone. He did not believe me. "That is simply not true my friend. I have sent men down there. Good men. Men who know not to lie to me. They have told me that there are many magical wonders in the Neath. I hear that there are men made of stone. Cats can talk down there. And people consort with demons on a daily basis. If this is a place without magic then I have no idea what is."
"I rolled my eyes at this. All of these things had a simple scientific explanation. I had actually written a thesis on each of the things he had just mentioned. I had also written on many more of the Neath’s more unnatural elements. This man's sudden outburst proved he did not follow my research as closely as he claimed. I felt that this conversation my go sour quickly if I didn't do something quick. "So," I asked trying to defuse his growing hostility. "What is it that you really want to know about? You obviously don't need me to tell you that the Neath is a strange place. Any intelligent man can figure that one out by himself." The Arab was taken aback by this blatantly honest question. People like him are use to having to pry out information they want. Usually with hot irons and a little ingenuity. "Right to the point I like that." He paused for a second deciding the best way to pose his next question. He decided to mirror my blunt honesty. "Do you know the secret to immortality?""
"I sat there frozen in place. My glass still pressed against my lips. I had been mid sip when he asked his question. When I realized how foolish my reaction was I let the wine slip down my throat and faked a reflex." *AHRAH UHMFF EHH* the storyteller mimics choking on wine to a tee. "My ploy would only buy me so much time. I honestly didn't know how to respond. On one hand here was a man with enough power to control a good portion of the Middle East. On the other hand was a scientist who was really more of a theological philosopher at best. One had one of life’s great answers and the other man had enough resources to make it quiet worth his while. The only real question here was how to proceed."
"That one," I paused for effect "Everyone wants to know that one." I twirled my fingers around one of the edges of my mustache. Quiet menacingly I hoped. "The real question here is how much something like that would be worth to you?" That was what I really wanted to know. Immortality is one of those whimsical little perks we get down here in the Neath. I believe it has something to do with our bodies being so close to hell they can find their way back before the devils take notice. Those on the surface however desperately crave our little trick for themselves."
"I wondered what he planned to use it for. An invincible army? No that seemed to risky. What was to stop such a force from just over throwing him when they were done conquering the world? Was it to make himself some sort of immortal God-King. Ruling over the land for centuries to insure his kingdom never lost power? No that didn't seem it either. What I think this boiled down to was one of the most basic components in any barter. Someone he loved was dying and he wanted to save them."
"Before I could say anything he jumped at me like a venomous cobra. "If you are true in what you say my friend anything in my kingdom will be yours for the taking." he waved his hands in grand gestures to emphasize his offer. "WOMAN, JEWELS, WEAPONS, ANYTHING YOUR HEART DESSIRES!" It was a tempting offer. A man of his resources could offer me many things I wanted. There was only one thing I truly wanted from him. I assured him that I could give him what he wanted. Once he was thoroughly satisfied that I was telling the truth he asked what I wanted in return."
"I leaned over to whisper something into his ear. If anyone was watching our conversation from across the room they would have seen the man go from a healthy burgundy to a sickly ochre in seconds. The look on his face was a mix of abject horror and pure fascination. The thing I asked him for was so beyond his comprehension he just looked at my with an inquisitive tilt of the head. When he looked me dead in the eyes I simply began to nod."
"After sometime had passed the Arab agreed to my terms. I wrote down the process by which one would gain immortality on the surface. He sent a correspondence back to his country with strict instructions on how I wanted my trade packed and prepared. Once I saw him send his letter I waited a fortnight to be sure his letter had gotten to his country long before him. He thought this a strange part of our deal. I reassured him that this was only to make sure I got what I wanted before he could back out on are deal. After what I had asked for he understood entirely."
"I gave him a manila envelope with strict instructions on how to gain immortality. I had shown it to him the same night he shipped the letter containing my request. I had refused to give it to him until my fortnight was up. Now that the necessary time had passed I gave him his envelope. He was most gracious. As if giving him what was now rightfully his was some sort of great act of charity on my part. I told him that he should start making preparations. The things he would need to make someone immortal were far apart from each other and he would have to book many trips to get to them all in time. He thanked me again and went on his way."
"I never saw the Arab again after that day. I stayed true to my word. I made no plans to steal back my formula. In return the Arab sent me exactly what I had asked for. It was beautiful. For those of you that were wondering what the man sent me I will tell you this. It lives in a bottle and is very powerful. I was surprised the Arab would trade such a thing. Maybe he just wanted to get rid of it and I was killing two birds with one stone."
"I'm surprised I even got my package. From what I heard only minutes after the Arab left my New York lodgings he had a very strange thing happen to him. He was walking down one of New York's many narrow alleyways. Nothing out of the ordinary really. Some drunken bums arguing over who gets the half a meat pie they found earlier. There was a female waif pedaling her wares. Also an orphan with a gash across his face trying to get coin from sympathetic passer-bys. No what really caught his attention was a brown tabby."
"The cat it was ordinary enough. An off brown with stripes of black. No the thing that bothered the Arab was the malevolent way it stared at him. When he walked passed it he felt something rub against his leg. He looked down and the tabby was purring as it caressed his calf. He didn't know what to do so he bent down to pet it. When he did this the cat's eyes flashed with genuine malice. It jumped three feet and snatched the envelope with its mouth. The Arab chased after the cat shouting in some Arabic dialect no one on the street would ever be familiar with. When he chased the cat he heard someone shout from afar. "WHAT A CHUMP!" The Arab suspected the orphan. Though we here in Fallen London know better don't we?"
(Sorry for the rather boring nature of my story. I’ve had this idea floating around for awhile and it just seemed like the sort of thing my character would find interesting.)
edited by Cubethulhu on 2/22/2012
--
Brom Girvan: a man of shadows and secrets. http://echobazaar.failbettergames.com/Profile/Brom~Girvan
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