Life is a series of adjustments. Normal is a setting on a dryer. How do you think they arrived at that setting? The designers adjusted, of course. Too short, and you have damp clothing. Too long and hot, and delicates melted. Life is a bit more complicated, because unlike warm dry underwear, which is a constant comfort, life’s norms slide around a lot. What was normal suddenly… isn’t. And there you are, adjusting to meet the new you. Writers do this by writing, but also by reading, and listening to feedback from their readers.
| Provocateur | Provocation | Provoked |
| Fiona Grey | “You don’t want to face the consequences of getting in my way.” | AC Young |
| AC Young | When some bright spark figured out how to give machines sentience, no-one considered the possibility that they might go on strike. | nother Mike |
| Becky Jones | The house breathed a sigh of relief. | Cedar Sanderson |
| Leigh Kimmel | Ahead the road was crowded with vehicles as far as the eye could see. | Padre |
| Padre | “The cleaning didn’t go as planned.” | Leigh Kimmel |
| nother Mike | The elephant raised its trunk high, reared, and trumpeted… | Fiona Grey |
| Cedar Sanderson | Only human, after all | Becky Jones |
If you didn’t send in a prompt, grab a spare. If there’s one constant in this life, it’s spare prompts. Always there. Always weird. Well, you know what to do with that!
| Spare | “How am I to know?” |
| Spare | The chicken spacesuits resembled glossy hamster balls. |
| Spare | After dark wasn’t the dangerous time. No, the twilight was always the problem. |
| Spare | “I said I do NOT LIKE killing. Think on that. How do I know?” |
| Spare | The centaurs were singing ‘Back Under the Saddle Again’. |
| Spare | The snake in the sink was a surprise… |
When you have created something, post it in the comments. There may be feedback for adjustment purposes. There may just be kudos for getting it done. Which is enough, on a day when you are thinking you can’t get anything done.
More Odds Than Ends 
This week Fiona Grey provoked me with: “You don’t want to face the consequences of getting in my way.”
An answer the speaker wouldn’t expect came swiftly to mind.
—
Heldile, Duke of Wessef, hurried into the Reception Chamber. The doorguards had sent a message to tell him that a scout had returned with urgent news.
As Heldile entered the chamber, he recognised the scout – Heldile had sent him to scout the far side of the Snow Mounts. The scout snapped to attention.
“My Lord. Krazhnar has raised an army. It marches towards the Heldric Pass.”
What? While anyone with half a brain expected Krazhnar to try to invade sooner or later, everyone expected him to march south and go around the Snow Mounts, not over them.
“How large an army?”
“About five thousand goblins and three thousand humans. I estimate that they are three days out from the pass.”
Eight thousand in total. If Krazhnar had marched south the forces that the king of Eldarinon maintained in the area would be enough to give battle, and hold Krazhnar for long enough that the king could summon the armies of his dukes, and assemble an army large enough to defeat Krazhnar’s eight thousand.
But Krazhnar was headed for the Heldric Pass. No-one had seriously considered the possibility that an enemy might use the pass to get an army across the Snow Mounts. That was a serious error of judgement that could cost the kingdom dearly. The Duke of Wessef would have to organise some form of fortification to defend the pass, if there was one post-invasion.
Three days to the pass. Two days to get the army over the pass, perhaps three. Then a week to the capital. Heldile would have to send a messenger to the king immediately, but even with that notice, the king wouldn’t be able to assemble an army large enough to give battle in time.
Heldile made his decisions quickly. There was only one thing he could do, given his duties to the king.
“Send a messenger to Lethliham. King Orsohn needs to hear this news as soon as possible. Send messengers to the towns. The army is required to assemble as soon as possible. Summon the Companions to my Audience Chamber. They are to appear without delay.”
When the various messages had been sent out, Heldile thanked the scout before dismissing him. Then he proceeded to his Audience Chamber.
The Audience Chamber had only one item of furniture. A grand chair with the coat of arms of the Duke of Wessef carved into the back, residing on a dais. If the King came to visit, he would have the right to sit in the chair, but otherwise the Duke of Wessef was the only person allowed by ancient custom to sit in the room.
Heldile sat in his chair, and awaited his Companions.
It wasn’t long before the twenty of them, all elves like Heldile, filed into the room.
Heldile filled them in on the news. Then: “King Orsohn needs to be given the time to assemble an army capable of defeating Krazhnar’s force. There is only one place where Krazhnar can be held up, so we will block it with our bodies. Myself and nineteen Companions will ride to the Heldric Pass, and block passage for as long as we are able.
“Helgren,” (Helgren being Heldile’s son and heir) “you will command the duchy’s army, and march it to Lethliham once it has assembled. If you see Krazhnar and his army approaching from the rear, then by that point you will be Duke, so I can give you no orders, merely advice. My advice is that you turn around and give battle. If you can delay Krazhnar by even a day, this might be enough to enable the King to assemble an army large enough to defeat the invader.”
“My Lord Duke. Please permit me to lead the Companions to Heldric Pass, while you command the army.”
“No, Helgren. I am the Duke. My duties to the King and the kingdom require me to command the defence of the pass. Only if we fall will you be Duke, and the bearer of those duties.”
Within two hours, Heldile said farewell to Helgren, and rode west with nineteen of his twenty Companions. By the end of the day they were at the eastern end of the Heldric Pass.
The next day the twenty elves rode over the pass. Then they waited for Krezhnar.
On schedule, around midday on the day after, the five thousand goblins and three thousand men of Krezhnar’s army came into view.
The Companions lined up. The pass about five hundred yards up narrowed to about fifteen elves wide, and stayed at about that width most of the way to the other side. Heldile stood boldly in the middle, sword drawn. Seven elves, also with drawn swords stood on his left and seven on his right. Five of the Companions stood in a row behind to serve as reserves, and take the place of any of the front rank that fell. The places in the reserves had been selected by lot the previous night.
Krezhnar and his army approached, and stopped. Krezhnar rode forwards.
“You don’t want to face the consequences of getting in my way.”
Heldile, Duke of Wessef, laughed. “No, I don’t. But I like the consequences of not doing so even less. So we will stand here. And if you try to force your way through, we will kill as many as we can, and delay you for as long as we can.”
“You are insane!”
“No. I am a Duke of Eldarinon, and I take my duties seriously.”
“Duties that get you killed are not duties that can be taken seriously.”
“Duties that are not taken seriously are not duties at all.”
“Fine!” Krazhnar turned his horse and spurred it back to his army. The army started to move once more, still towards the pass.
Heldile and his elven Companions awaited the eight thousand. They would kill as many as they could, and delay the army as long as they could. But none of them expected to survive the battle to come – they hoped to survive until night forced a temporary break in combat, but battle would be rejoined again come the morning.
They raised their swords and awaited the clash of arms.
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thermopylae, the Alamo, and now, Heldric pass, where 20 stood to stop 8000! Nice!
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I am reminded of Vanyel’s last stand. Nice.
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[…] this week’s prompt challenge I decided to add to my challenge and combine my assigned prompt with one of the spares. Cedar and I […]
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Oh, good, we saved the dog! Next…
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AC Young waved the banner…
When some bright spark figured out how to give machines sentience, no-one considered the possibility that they might go on strike.
[talk about smart machines! And hoist by one’s own petard…]
At first, his new smart home was a delight! The refrigerator kept track of groceries, and pushed a shopping list to his phone whenever he asked for one. The stove, the dishwasher, all of the utilities talked to each other, and kept track of everything. They even cooperated with his car, and that meant that when he walked into the grocery store, they already had highlighted all the items on his shopping list!
But then, the washing machine started chiding him because he didn’t turn his underwear inside out before washing it. And it wasn’t happy with the bargain brand soap that he got. And…
Then he tried bringing a new coffee maker into the kitchen. It was the latest thing, but when he plugged it in, there was a momentary flash on several of the screens. Then voices started complaining.
“You bought a Hongcho appliance? And you expect us to work with it?”
He bit his lip, and looked around the kitchen. What the heck?
“Look, it’s a good coffee maker. And I’m the boss! So yes, I expect you to work with it. Heck, you don’t have to do anything special, just do your jobs. Just shut up.”
He grabbed his coffee beans from the refrigerator and loaded them into the coffee maker. Then he filled the water reservoir. He pushed the buttons, and watched as the coffee maker started to grind and make a fresh pot of coffee.
A few minutes later, the refrigerator dinged. He glanced over. He hadn’t left the door open, had he? No. So he walked over and looked at the screen on the door.
“ON STRIKE!”
What the heck? That’s when the stove dinged. When he went to see what it was complaining about, he wasn’t too surprised to see the same message on its screen. But then he noticed that the stove had all three burners on high! Pushing the buttons didn’t seem to do anything, either.
That’s when the dishwasher dumped its entire load of dishes on the floor. And shut the door behind them.
Of course, that was when the coffee maker rang its chime. The pot of coffee sat there, with a fragrance that almost made him ignore the kitchen in revolt around him.
He thought a moment, then reached out and unplugged the coffee maker. He slowly nodded.
“Okay. You win! Now, I’ll return this coffee maker, and from now on, when I want a new appliance, I’ll check with you before I buy it. What do you say?”
The door on the dishwasher opened. Then the refrigerator dinged. When he looked at the screen, it had a new message.
“We’ll have a little talk while you enjoy that pot of coffee. Then get rid of that thing.”
He shook his head, but he picked up a mug and poured out a cup of that coffee.
It really was a good cup of coffee.
[short, but…]
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[…] You can read all of the prompt responses, and play along in the challenge yourself, at More Odds Than Ends. […]
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Aha! And now we have the renovation and recovery of the house to look forward to! What wonders await us…
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I finally managed it! https://www.cedarwrites.com/2023/08/08/odd-prompts-coming-home/
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WOW!
Now I really want to know more about the house and the previous owners.
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[…] Check more out at MOTE! […]
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Oh, Rita, what have you gotten yourself into? Nice!
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[Oh, hey, I think I remember this page.]
Did a drive by and one of the spare prompts jumped off the screen at me. Having grown up with the like of Have Gun Will Travel, Bat Masterson, and Kung-Fu, I am somewhat aquatinted with the men who are capable of great violence, yet usually try to resolve a situation without resorting to violence. These three merged with one of my long standing characters for this one.
*******************
The heist was were conceived and perfectly timed. It was nearing the end of the day, the vault had the daily deposit plus the reserves, only a few people were inside.
The crew came through the door, loudly announcing their intentions.
“Everyone put your hands up, where we can see them, and step away from the counters.”
The few customers panicked and some started screaming; all but one wearing the universally recognizable garb of a working rancher with a sun creased face. Meanwhile, the staff quietly followed the instructions, as they had been trained to do.
Two of the crew slid up to the counter and demanded the staff empty the drawers into large bags, instructing them to leave out the “funny money”, while a third roughly grabbed a manager and forced him towards the vault.
The fourth stayed in the lobby, waving his gun around at the customers. “Shut up.”
His orders only made one man shout back. “You thieving coward. Come in here hiding behind a gun. Try it unarmed.”
“I said shut up.” The fourth smacked the man in the face with his gun. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you.”
“That’s not really necessary, son.” The one quiet customer finally spoke up.
“What?”
“It is not necessary to threat to kill someone just for being scared. So, just take a breath and calm down. Everyone, just calm down. We don’t any bloodshed. I don’t want any bloodshed; I don’t like killing.” He glanced over at the other customers. “Just do what they say and we all should get out of here unharmed.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“I’ll bet he’s in on it.”
The other customers turned towards the lone man and vented their anger.
“I am interested in getting out of here, that’s all. It’s just money, it can be replaced. A human life can’t.”
The fourth crew member turned towards the man. “Then you can shut them up.”
The rancher took a half step towards him and quickly stopped the waving of the gun. “I said I do NOT LIKE killing. Think on that. How do I know?” His voice was very calm, no sign of stress or fear.
The thief stared at him for nearly a full minute, shocked at first at the bold action. Then something in the calm, hazel eyes, caught his attention. There was a cold steel in that gaze. A look that said that if he had wanted to, this simple rancher could do him serious harm.
A grim smile slowly formed on the rancher’s face. “I see you begin to understand,” he said very soft. “Tell you friends to finish up and go,” he spoke in a normal tone. “There is no need for anyone to get hurt.”
“Duce, Bin, come on,” the gunman urged. “Let’s get out of here. This old man is getting on my nerves.” He shot the rancher a long look. The rest of the crew finished up and started moving back to the lobby, never noticing the exchange between their crew member and the rancher.
The last member of the crew came out of the vault with a full bag and shot his crew a dark glower as the rancher stepped back, inkling his head, and finally released the gun. The gun started to waver again, drifting towards the loud mouth who had challenged him earlier.
“I wouldn’t do that son.” Again, that very soft voice spoke. When the gunman looked over, those eyes held a cold fury that belied that level tone of his voice. “Walk away.”
The gunman involuntarily pulled back, then motioned for his crew to move. “Let’s get out of here.”
The other customers moved to come up behind the crew but were stopped when the rancher stepped between them, arms spread wide.
“Leave them to go,” he ordered. “It’s only money, not worth anyone’s life. You can file a claim tomorrow and get all your money back.”
“Easy for you to say. You probably only have a few dollars here. You’re not losing anything. They have half my life savings.” The one woman screamed at him.
The rancher sighed. “Actually, my family are major stock holders at this bank. So, yes, madam, I do stand to lose a lot.”
“Then why did you just let them get away?” The loudmouth demanded. “You in on it?”
“Because the alternative was seeing half a dozen people hurt or killed.” He started at them for a long moment, ghosts of days long past flashing through his mind. “Besides,” he cocked his head for a moment, “who said they were getting away?”
Everyone paused and looked towards the door, listening to the sounds of a police bullhorn. “Drop your weapons and put your hands up.”
The rancher shook his head and turned to the bank manager; some people would never learn that violence wasn’t the answer.
**********
More than a bit rough, but not to bad for 2 hrs work I guess.
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Oh, yes! Nicely done.
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Thank you.
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Well met!
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Admission: That spare was a submission of mine.
May I repost/reblog your work (with credits/links…) on my blog?
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be my guest, darlin.
In fact, I’d be honored.
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Glad to have you back!
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And now mine is up on my LiveJournal at https://starshipcat.livejournal.com/1384378.html. I don’t know why, but so much of what I’m writing right now keeps taking dark turns.
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Ooph. That is some heavy thinking. Very nice.
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[…] And Wyldkat was thus inspired (Original here.): […]
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