Subject: Requesting help...
Posted on: 2008-08-22 16:57:00 UTC

We got into a good MSN chat, and somehow came up with the idea of writing a story based on fantasy cliches, where most of the names are reversals of ordinary words and names. The working title is "Fantasy By Numbers (And Some Backwards Names)". The cast so far is as follows, listed in order of creation:

Samoht, the Generic Desert Rider extra

Ardnassac, the bard who shows up to deliver an ancient song with convenient clues

Eissac, the guard escorting Our Heroes through the woodland fortress

Ennaxor, the Big Bad's underling who kicks Our Hero's ass in about Chapter Three, then gets killed ignominiously around Chapter Ten

Xela, the demoness whose wiles leave her beheaded

Yxor, the Big Bad who has taken control of the king

Newlir, the Standard Elf Guy who is Teh Awsum with a bow

Tarp, the local yokel and standard Hairy-Footed Short Thing

Gnik, the good king

Elcycib, the friendly big-bosomed tavern wench

Oreh the Mighty, the Hero

Dren the Weedy, the main sidekick

Krod, the ogre with bad timing and worse footwork

Resol, the very bad assassin

Ome the Androgynous (and angsty)

They live in the land of Onnudi.

We also have a few quotes from the as yet unwritten story.

"What shall we call ourselves?" "Why not Dnabeht?" "Dnabeht, Ardnassac? Why a silly name like that?" "It seemed to fit the theme." "What theme?" "You know what? Forget it. Would 'Oreh's Group' work?" "BRILLIANT!" "...sigh"

"Here. My song. I was told to learn this while I was becoming a bard. It has never been appropriate until now, I've never until now been able to sing it, and you're going to analyse the words and ignore my talent entirely, so let's get it over with?"

"Oh, I am so depressed. My mum died after living a long and happy life, warm in her bed, with those she loved around her..." "Oh, Ome, shut up. You got the house." "But the is a fount of tragedy and despair..." "If you don't want it, I'll take it..." "hastily No, Resol, that house is my despair-filled burden, I cannot lay it upon you."

"Krod's pants itch." "Why?" "Krod wiped Krod's rear with funny-looking leaves. Krod can feel swellings." All:shudder "sarcastically Krod should make sure not to do that next time then." "There will be next time?" "Yes, seeing as you never pay attention when we point out poison ivy."

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