CFC's latest Iron Pen Competitors have now finished their stories and are eagerly awaiting your comments and the outcome of the voting!
Please welcome the competitors for this challenge: Iron Pen Onan and Iron Pen Mystery Person, who have both submitted entries incorporating the mystery theme PIRATES!.
Today is September 19, which is "International Talk Like A Pirate Day." On this popular internet holiday, people all across cyberspace celebrate these colorful rogues, which is why "Pirates!" is this round's Mystery Theme. So please join our two Iron Pen authors as they offer their own stories of villainy on the high seas and coastal areas.
Comments/critiques: Please keep in mind that the main objective of Iron Pen is to give the writers constructive feedback on their stories. Please say why you liked or didn't like the stories. What changes would you suggest, if any? If you were writing a story on this theme, would you have done so similarly to the way the two current competitors have, or would you take another approach entirely?
Judging:
When judging, you may wish to consider these criteria, among any other personal preferences you might have:
Length. Did the story meet the minimum required length? Did it exceed the maximum length? This requirement is meant partially as a way to keep the competition fair, as it's harder to judge fairly if one story is (for example) 2000 words and the other only 500 words. Also, if a writer wants to submit stories professionally, there will be length restrictions involved in that. It never hurts to start practicing writing to meet specified requirements.
*Note: Both stories in this competition have met the minimum/maximum word counts.
Mechanics. This is a presentation criterion. A story that is good in terms of plot, characters, and theme may have typos, formatting errors, etc. which can distract the reader. No matter if the story is written for recreation or for professional submission, proofreading matters.
Characterization: Do you think the characters are believable? Has the author succeeded in making the reader care what happens to them?
Secret Theme: Do you think the author used the theme effectively?
Entertainment: This is the major criterion. The main goal of any story is to entertain the reader and provide an interesting reading experience. Do you think the author succeeded in doing this?
Voting: The voting/scoring is explained below, after the second story.
And now, on with the stories!
The bells keep ringing. Brother Mattias is tireless in his efforts, even though everyone is by now safe inside the fortified monastery or has gone inland. The Turks know better than to approach the walls, but they will no doubt burn some houses, wreck some ships and plunder whatever they find. Then, silence. Brother Mattias lays on the ground with his arms spread, such has been his effort to warn everyone of the pirates arrival. Atop the watchtower Brother Jachiam, with a bow in his hand, watches the Turkish galleys approach. For some time the rumours of the sea reach his ears, and he thinks he can hear the oars clashing against the waves, the orders, the whistling of the whip before it hits. One of the ships runs aground, the others halt and drop anchors and boats. In an hour, the Berbers have loaded their boats, set fire to the town and caught a few people who didnt hide well or far enough. The creaking flames occasionally subdue the shrieks of people dragged over.
Now the ship rises and falls in a worsening sea. The Barbary Coast is in sight and nearby. The first drops fall as the boats are returning to continue disembarking the troops. Most of the men make it ashore before the storm makes it impossible to continue. The beach is deserted, and the army quickly sets to take a village not far inland for better refuge. Jachiam Mureda leads a company in vanguard, reaching the dim-lit town first. Such is the surprise that there is no resistance to eviction. Houses are requisitioned for army use, the villagers crammed in a single building. Some of then protest, but the soldiers have their way with them and no more noises come. The night is peaceful and the raining subsides. Only two ships snapped off their anchors and were thrown ashore, the hundred-ship strong fleet still afloat. The thick of the army will be disembarking today. Meanwhile, Jachiam leads his company to the pirate base. The sun signals the way to Algiers grading the sky red to a soft yellow. The men grudgingly advance on foot; so do their commanders. The few animals that yet made it off the ships are to carry the artillery. The first sight of the walled port itself is dyed by the slant orange of a full yet still rising sun, as a foreboding of the carnage to come. Whose, it will soon be known.
Once more, the bells ring as they rang every Sunday. Less frantically than the dreaded day, they call the people not to run but to meet in the house of the Lord. No galleys, no fending oars, no sails; only the deep blue sea, the bright blue sky, a lonely cloud and the disc of the sun finally emerging from the cliff-ending mountains closing the bay on the east. It is a hot and glorious day, and Brother Mattias keeps tugging the rope calmly and securely. The crowd closes in, among them a scarred, rough, horse-riding stranger. During the mass he is the centre of attention, yet nobody recognises him. After the mass, the people flock outside and, seeing as he remains praying in the church, debate, discusse, and gossip about him. In full clothing, he is grateful for the coolness of the stones, and waits patiently for the confessor to come. Father Jachiam enters the booth and, diligent yet calm, peacefully deliberate, the stranger confesses to his sins. He wonders whether the Turk deserves salvation and whether he has condemned his soul in the war. Father Jachiam absolves him of his sins, and Jachiam Mureda emerges into his hometown an avenged soul.
The imprint of a palm of a hand burned on Philip's cheek and laboriously dragged him back to consciousness. Someone had just slapped him, it slowly dawned on him.
Heee... he had a try at what was supposed to be an indignant Hey!, while his mind struggled to find its way out of the haze of rum and sleep inertia. His eyes finished their turn back to the world and Philip grew aware that someone was standing near him. As his sight composed itself, it arranged the face of his first man, Derek, towering above him and looking at him with glaring anger. Did that bugger just hit me? Philip thought, this time with much more sturdy indignation.
You have done it. Derek said and slapped him once more. You damned us all, captain!
A large part of Philip's mind still refused to show up for work, but his sense of propriety at least peeked forth from beneath its bedspread and invoked that being repeatedly assaulted by a subordinate required an immediate response.
How dare you? Philip said.
What I dare, is to say that this is all your fault! After all, it was your course and you talked us into it, captain sir!
What are you talking about for God's sake? Philip shouted as a common fear among pirate captains took hold of him and got his fluids finally flowing the fear of mutiny.
I'll show you Derek seized Philip by the shoulders and forced him to the window of the captain's cabin. Look! he said and pointed to the horizon above the ocean.
If Philip had been sober, or at least more sober, the realization of what Derek meant may have hit him like a blow to the chin. But as it was, it hit him more like the faeces of a seagull, where the disbelieve and horror of what had just happened only slowly unfolds until you got your finger right in it.
There were two ships to be seen at the horizon.
Telescope Philip said.
Another slap is what you can have! For your information: Those are two seven-sailers bearing the seal of the royal fleet. And on those ships there is a lot of lead as well as corresponding appliances to make us all closely familiar with it.
Seven-sailers..." mumbled Philip while using a telescope he got himself. "You are right... They are easily twice as fast as we are.
Ay!
As Philip seemed to settle on starring open-mouthed at the ships for an undetermined amount of time, Derek added Well, captain?
Frell
Anything else?
Philip sighed painfully and said White flag.
Derek made a bitter and stentorian laugh.
Are you still that drunk or are you just that chicken-livered? A white flag on a pirate ship... Well about that they will be happy. Right before they will imprison us, which in turn will be right before they will properly torture us to death.
"We have no choice. Those are fully staffed seven-sailers of the royal armada. For the wretch of a ship we have it is impossible to out-run them and certainly impossible to fight and beat them. Maybe we can take over a ship of theirs later on if we capitulate now or they are in the mood for long-term prisoners and we get to the mainland or something. I don't know, I am just saying that if there is a chance, it is in capitulating.
Don't kid yourself."
"It is all we got!"
"Before I do that I'll take some of them down with me. Derek said solemnly.
Ultimately, they hoisted the white flag. The fish was known to be an unappreciative audience of heroic deaths. They abased the canvas and for the sake of a better impression divested themselves of suspiciously pirately items such as ear rings, ideographs of skulls, eye patches and a wooden leg (even though the last one only under the protest and selfish incomprehension of its owner).
A few hours later, Philip was observing how the royal soldiers forced Derek to eat his own eye balls. While doing so, Philip made the discovery that even though to have to vomit out of such horror and disgust provided no pleasure in deed, way too much, way too cheap rum still was what sits the heaviest on someone's stomach. It filled him with a bit of pride that he already did worse things to himself than they ever could. Then he soiled himself much to his surprise, since he had been certain to already have done so to all the extend humanly possible.
Eventually, after Derek was done, Philip himself was finally approached by the executioner. His crimes would now be declared. He found solace in the thought that his shame would at least not be spoken out loud on land.
Pirate! I lack the breath to sufficiently describe your wickedness. But hereby you and all other attendees shall hear your three main sins, which makes you the scum, the pirate, you are and which only knows justice in agony and death.
Firstly: Betrayal of God and his sense of justice bestowed to men, according to which each man may only possess of others what they have freely allowed him to have, with the exception of God's agents on earth: the crown and the church and money.
Secondly: Betrayal of the foundations of social order, without which the world would descend into chaos. Above all: you get nothing for free but death!
Thirdly: Degradation of the artist down to your own level, by betrayal of the artist's right to forever earn money with a single instance of work.
But, Philip sobbed, I did not hurt nobody.
Yes you did, pirate. Very deeply, on the inside. Right here. the executioner said and pointed to his wallet. Then he chopped off Philip's head.
Swine, he thought as he passed on to the next prisoner.
Voting:
How this works: This is an anonymous, multiple-choice poll. Please vote for one choice for each contestant. That's 2 votes in all. VBulletin isn't set up for multiple questions within the same poll, so this is the only way to do this without having separate threads for each story.
The poll choices represent scores from 1-5 points, on a scale of how well you think the story met the judging guidelines outlined above.
A = 5 points
B = 4 points
C = 3 points
D = 2 points
F = 1 point
How the scoring works is that the totals for each grade will be added up and used to arrive at an overall score. It is possible for a tie to happen, and if it does, I will not be casting a tie-breaking vote.
Please do not vote more than twice, as that would result in unbalanced (and unfair) votes.
Please take the time to offer comments and constructive feedback, as well as voting. The people who compete in these contests work hard on their stories, and appreciate knowing what readers think of them.
Please welcome the competitors for this challenge: Iron Pen Onan and Iron Pen Mystery Person, who have both submitted entries incorporating the mystery theme PIRATES!.
Today is September 19, which is "International Talk Like A Pirate Day." On this popular internet holiday, people all across cyberspace celebrate these colorful rogues, which is why "Pirates!" is this round's Mystery Theme. So please join our two Iron Pen authors as they offer their own stories of villainy on the high seas and coastal areas.
Comments/critiques: Please keep in mind that the main objective of Iron Pen is to give the writers constructive feedback on their stories. Please say why you liked or didn't like the stories. What changes would you suggest, if any? If you were writing a story on this theme, would you have done so similarly to the way the two current competitors have, or would you take another approach entirely?
Judging:
When judging, you may wish to consider these criteria, among any other personal preferences you might have:
Length. Did the story meet the minimum required length? Did it exceed the maximum length? This requirement is meant partially as a way to keep the competition fair, as it's harder to judge fairly if one story is (for example) 2000 words and the other only 500 words. Also, if a writer wants to submit stories professionally, there will be length restrictions involved in that. It never hurts to start practicing writing to meet specified requirements.
*Note: Both stories in this competition have met the minimum/maximum word counts.
Mechanics. This is a presentation criterion. A story that is good in terms of plot, characters, and theme may have typos, formatting errors, etc. which can distract the reader. No matter if the story is written for recreation or for professional submission, proofreading matters.
Characterization: Do you think the characters are believable? Has the author succeeded in making the reader care what happens to them?
Secret Theme: Do you think the author used the theme effectively?
Entertainment: This is the major criterion. The main goal of any story is to entertain the reader and provide an interesting reading experience. Do you think the author succeeded in doing this?
Voting: The voting/scoring is explained below, after the second story.
And now, on with the stories!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Days of the Turk
by Iron Pen Onan
The bells keep ringing. Brother Mattias is tireless in his efforts, even though everyone is by now safe inside the fortified monastery or has gone inland. The Turks know better than to approach the walls, but they will no doubt burn some houses, wreck some ships and plunder whatever they find. Then, silence. Brother Mattias lays on the ground with his arms spread, such has been his effort to warn everyone of the pirates arrival. Atop the watchtower Brother Jachiam, with a bow in his hand, watches the Turkish galleys approach. For some time the rumours of the sea reach his ears, and he thinks he can hear the oars clashing against the waves, the orders, the whistling of the whip before it hits. One of the ships runs aground, the others halt and drop anchors and boats. In an hour, the Berbers have loaded their boats, set fire to the town and caught a few people who didnt hide well or far enough. The creaking flames occasionally subdue the shrieks of people dragged over.
Now the ship rises and falls in a worsening sea. The Barbary Coast is in sight and nearby. The first drops fall as the boats are returning to continue disembarking the troops. Most of the men make it ashore before the storm makes it impossible to continue. The beach is deserted, and the army quickly sets to take a village not far inland for better refuge. Jachiam Mureda leads a company in vanguard, reaching the dim-lit town first. Such is the surprise that there is no resistance to eviction. Houses are requisitioned for army use, the villagers crammed in a single building. Some of then protest, but the soldiers have their way with them and no more noises come. The night is peaceful and the raining subsides. Only two ships snapped off their anchors and were thrown ashore, the hundred-ship strong fleet still afloat. The thick of the army will be disembarking today. Meanwhile, Jachiam leads his company to the pirate base. The sun signals the way to Algiers grading the sky red to a soft yellow. The men grudgingly advance on foot; so do their commanders. The few animals that yet made it off the ships are to carry the artillery. The first sight of the walled port itself is dyed by the slant orange of a full yet still rising sun, as a foreboding of the carnage to come. Whose, it will soon be known.
Once more, the bells ring as they rang every Sunday. Less frantically than the dreaded day, they call the people not to run but to meet in the house of the Lord. No galleys, no fending oars, no sails; only the deep blue sea, the bright blue sky, a lonely cloud and the disc of the sun finally emerging from the cliff-ending mountains closing the bay on the east. It is a hot and glorious day, and Brother Mattias keeps tugging the rope calmly and securely. The crowd closes in, among them a scarred, rough, horse-riding stranger. During the mass he is the centre of attention, yet nobody recognises him. After the mass, the people flock outside and, seeing as he remains praying in the church, debate, discusse, and gossip about him. In full clothing, he is grateful for the coolness of the stones, and waits patiently for the confessor to come. Father Jachiam enters the booth and, diligent yet calm, peacefully deliberate, the stranger confesses to his sins. He wonders whether the Turk deserves salvation and whether he has condemned his soul in the war. Father Jachiam absolves him of his sins, and Jachiam Mureda emerges into his hometown an avenged soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The evil of the pirate
by Iron Pen Mystery Person
The imprint of a palm of a hand burned on Philip's cheek and laboriously dragged him back to consciousness. Someone had just slapped him, it slowly dawned on him.
Heee... he had a try at what was supposed to be an indignant Hey!, while his mind struggled to find its way out of the haze of rum and sleep inertia. His eyes finished their turn back to the world and Philip grew aware that someone was standing near him. As his sight composed itself, it arranged the face of his first man, Derek, towering above him and looking at him with glaring anger. Did that bugger just hit me? Philip thought, this time with much more sturdy indignation.
You have done it. Derek said and slapped him once more. You damned us all, captain!
A large part of Philip's mind still refused to show up for work, but his sense of propriety at least peeked forth from beneath its bedspread and invoked that being repeatedly assaulted by a subordinate required an immediate response.
How dare you? Philip said.
What I dare, is to say that this is all your fault! After all, it was your course and you talked us into it, captain sir!
What are you talking about for God's sake? Philip shouted as a common fear among pirate captains took hold of him and got his fluids finally flowing the fear of mutiny.
I'll show you Derek seized Philip by the shoulders and forced him to the window of the captain's cabin. Look! he said and pointed to the horizon above the ocean.
If Philip had been sober, or at least more sober, the realization of what Derek meant may have hit him like a blow to the chin. But as it was, it hit him more like the faeces of a seagull, where the disbelieve and horror of what had just happened only slowly unfolds until you got your finger right in it.
There were two ships to be seen at the horizon.
Telescope Philip said.
Another slap is what you can have! For your information: Those are two seven-sailers bearing the seal of the royal fleet. And on those ships there is a lot of lead as well as corresponding appliances to make us all closely familiar with it.
Seven-sailers..." mumbled Philip while using a telescope he got himself. "You are right... They are easily twice as fast as we are.
Ay!
As Philip seemed to settle on starring open-mouthed at the ships for an undetermined amount of time, Derek added Well, captain?
Frell
Anything else?
Philip sighed painfully and said White flag.
Derek made a bitter and stentorian laugh.
Are you still that drunk or are you just that chicken-livered? A white flag on a pirate ship... Well about that they will be happy. Right before they will imprison us, which in turn will be right before they will properly torture us to death.
"We have no choice. Those are fully staffed seven-sailers of the royal armada. For the wretch of a ship we have it is impossible to out-run them and certainly impossible to fight and beat them. Maybe we can take over a ship of theirs later on if we capitulate now or they are in the mood for long-term prisoners and we get to the mainland or something. I don't know, I am just saying that if there is a chance, it is in capitulating.
Don't kid yourself."
"It is all we got!"
"Before I do that I'll take some of them down with me. Derek said solemnly.
Ultimately, they hoisted the white flag. The fish was known to be an unappreciative audience of heroic deaths. They abased the canvas and for the sake of a better impression divested themselves of suspiciously pirately items such as ear rings, ideographs of skulls, eye patches and a wooden leg (even though the last one only under the protest and selfish incomprehension of its owner).
A few hours later, Philip was observing how the royal soldiers forced Derek to eat his own eye balls. While doing so, Philip made the discovery that even though to have to vomit out of such horror and disgust provided no pleasure in deed, way too much, way too cheap rum still was what sits the heaviest on someone's stomach. It filled him with a bit of pride that he already did worse things to himself than they ever could. Then he soiled himself much to his surprise, since he had been certain to already have done so to all the extend humanly possible.
Eventually, after Derek was done, Philip himself was finally approached by the executioner. His crimes would now be declared. He found solace in the thought that his shame would at least not be spoken out loud on land.
Pirate! I lack the breath to sufficiently describe your wickedness. But hereby you and all other attendees shall hear your three main sins, which makes you the scum, the pirate, you are and which only knows justice in agony and death.
Firstly: Betrayal of God and his sense of justice bestowed to men, according to which each man may only possess of others what they have freely allowed him to have, with the exception of God's agents on earth: the crown and the church and money.
Secondly: Betrayal of the foundations of social order, without which the world would descend into chaos. Above all: you get nothing for free but death!
Thirdly: Degradation of the artist down to your own level, by betrayal of the artist's right to forever earn money with a single instance of work.
But, Philip sobbed, I did not hurt nobody.
Yes you did, pirate. Very deeply, on the inside. Right here. the executioner said and pointed to his wallet. Then he chopped off Philip's head.
Swine, he thought as he passed on to the next prisoner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Voting:
How this works: This is an anonymous, multiple-choice poll. Please vote for one choice for each contestant. That's 2 votes in all. VBulletin isn't set up for multiple questions within the same poll, so this is the only way to do this without having separate threads for each story.
The poll choices represent scores from 1-5 points, on a scale of how well you think the story met the judging guidelines outlined above.
A = 5 points
B = 4 points
C = 3 points
D = 2 points
F = 1 point
How the scoring works is that the totals for each grade will be added up and used to arrive at an overall score. It is possible for a tie to happen, and if it does, I will not be casting a tie-breaking vote.
Please do not vote more than twice, as that would result in unbalanced (and unfair) votes.
Please take the time to offer comments and constructive feedback, as well as voting. The people who compete in these contests work hard on their stories, and appreciate knowing what readers think of them.
But just there the trap lies, especially in short stories where all has to be so condensed. 
