http://screenwritinggoldmine.com/forum/ en Wed, 08 Sep 2010 23:52:40 GMT vBulletin 60 http://screenwritinggoldmine.com/forum/images/misc/rss.jpg http://screenwritinggoldmine.com/forum/ http://screenwritinggoldmine.com/forum/showthread.php?t=4449&goto=newpost Tue, 31 Aug 2010 13:29:26 GMT I got this in an email and thought I would share it for some laughs. Proofreading is a Dying Art these days! *Proofreading is a dying art,... I got this in an email and thought I would share it for some laughs.

Proofreading is a Dying Art these days!


Proofreading is a dying art, wouldn't you say?


Man Kills Self Before Shooting Wife and Daughter
This one I caught in the SGV Tribune the other day and called the Editorial Room and asked who wrote this. It took two or three readings before the editor realized that what he was reading was impossible!!! They put in a correction the next day.


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I just couldn't help but send this along. Too funny.
Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says
No crap, really? Ya think?
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Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers
Now that's taking things a bit far!

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Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over
What a guy!
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Miners Refuse to Work after Death
No-good-for-nothing' lazy so-and-so's!
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Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant
See if that works any better than a fair trial!
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War Dims Hope for Peace
I can see where it might have that effect!
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If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile
Ya think?!
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Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures
Who would have thought!
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Enfield ( London ) Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide
They may be on to something!
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Red Tape Holds Up New Bridges
You mean there's something stronger than duct tape?
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Man Struck By Lightning: Faces Battery Charge
He probably IS the battery charge!
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New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group
Weren't they fat enough?!
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Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft
That's what he gets for eating those beans!
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Kids Make Nutritious Snacks
Do they taste like chicken?
********************************* color=black size=2 face=Arial>

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half
Chainsaw Massacre all over again!


Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors
Boy, are they tall!


And the winner is....
Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead

Did I read that right? Must be like the plane crash in the Polish cemetery where they recovered 150 bodies from the 2 passenger airplane.



Now that you've smiled at least once, it's your turn to spread the stupidity and send this to someone you want to bring a smile to (maybe even a chuckle). We all need a good laugh, at least once a day! ]]> Reading For Insomniacs laurencewins http://screenwritinggoldmine.com/forum/showthread.php?t=4449 http://screenwritinggoldmine.com/forum/showthread.php?t=4410&goto=newpost Mon, 23 Aug 2010 00:56:52 GMT I posted this on a couple other writign forums (including elfwood, if you would rather check it out there under my acc of the same name) Its due in... I posted this on a couple other writign forums (including elfwood, if you would rather check it out there under my acc of the same name) Its due in a day, and I'm desperate for some hardcore critiques :eek: This is 3008 words, so if you plan on reading it, erase your schedule for the next 20 minutes (or if you read faster maye 10 :))

Here ya go, direct from cut and paste from elfwood:

A note before reading: This short story was written for a World of Warcraft essay contest. As such, the following material contains content heavily related to World of Warcraft lore. While prior knowledge of this lore is not required to understand this piece, it is reccomended.
I would like a couple of posts by 12:00 eastern time (or 9:00 western/pacific) to take full advantage of your comments before the essay is due. Go heavy with the critiques guys!

A few notes to those who are not familiar with WoW: The Well of Eternity was a large lake In the center of the original Kalimdor, which was a supercontinent (think Pangaea) on the planet of Azeroth. Sargeras is the commander of a mighty race of aliens which seek to destroy azeroth and take its magical resources; namely the well of eternity. In my story it is mostly referred to as simply "The Well." The demigod Cenarius, a major character in this story, is a demigod. He is the son of the moon goddess Elune, and the Earth god Malorne.

A note to those familiar with Warcraft, but unfamiliar with pre-WoW lore:
The Kaldorei are just another name for night elves. Don't be confused The highborne, or Quel'dorei were night elf-nobles who became addicted to the magic in the Well, and after the war they abandoned the kaldorei and became what you may know as Blood Elves. This story takes place 10,000 years before the first war, roughly 30-50,000 years before WoW.

I feel that I explained everything else pretty well; if you have questions please ask in a post. Thank you, and read away:


“There are so few of us left,” Malfurion said. His white hair flowed in the growing wind, and his eyes betrayed the sadness his face would not.

“By my mother’s will you have survived the sundering, and by mine you shall survive this expedition. Have hope, we will find a new land to settle.” Came the voice of Cenarius, his powerful presence lifting the spirit of even Malfurion. His powerful hoofs pounded the ground as he moved closer, and his antlers shimmered in the fading sunlight. He was not dissimilar to a centaur, having the head and torso of a male kaldorei, and his legs were that of a large buck. “We shall undo the destruction of the quel’dorei, and we shall bring wisdom to this new world.”
“I wish I shared your confidence, Cenarius.” Malfurion said, “But I fear we may have lost too much to rebuild.”

It was at this point that a female Kaldorei, beautiful despite tattered robes, spoke up. Her pale hair was tied in a neat ponytail, and her voice resonated with the purity of Elune herself. “Elune would not have spared our lives if she did not believe we could succeed, that we would succeed. Have faith in the moon, in the earth, in yourself. Kalimdor exists still; we won the war against the burning legions. The sundering did not tear everything away from us.”

Malfurion, calmed by the words of his beloved Tyrande, looked down at the legions of kaldorei refugees, survivors of the great sundering. They shambled through the rocky valley they found themselves in; one of the few surviving settings of Kalimdor.
He whispered, “But did we really win after all?”

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ___________________

“The storm is growing!” Illidan yelled, “But I can control it! I can steer its force away from our camps! With the arcane powers I can-”
“No, Illidan!” Malfurion shouted, “You have fought your addiction well, you must not succumb to it!”

“We must escape this wind, or our fortifications will be lost!” Tyrande yelled at both of them, her feminine voice rising above the din of rainfall. “Cenarius has found a grove which he has sealed from the storm! Furion, Illidan, please; you must come quickly!”
Illidan suddenly became caught in a roaring fury, unable to control his withdrawal any longer. “I am not wanted by Cenarius! How could I, I am not wanted even by you! My beloved Tyrande! You have chosen him over me, and it is he who shall ride with you in battle against the quel’dorei. I shall ride instead against you! The arcane magic must thrive in Kalimdor, or we all shall be lost to the primitive ages we have left behind!”

“Illidan, search your heart. Search your mind! The arcane holds dangers untold for all of us; and the tampering of the quel’dorei may have doomed all of us! Control your addiction, brother; I beg you. You must not give in to your lust for power, or all of our plans will be for naught.”
“You both have chosen your path, and your future. Now I shall choose mine.” Illidan said finally, and rode off into the night. “I must go after him!” Malfurion shouted over the storm, “He is my brother, I cannot leave him!”
“No!” Tyrande yelled back, “His choice is his own! You mustn’t endanger yourself!”
Undeterred, Malfurion urged his horse to a gallop and chased after Illidan. As he felt himself catching up to his brother, he started to notice a change in the storm. The winds were softer here, the rain not as hard. As he went even further down the road, the storm was gone completely.

“You see what can be accomplished with the powers of the Well.” Came Illidan’s voice, but it was strangely distorted. Malfurion looked up, and his mouth dropped open as he witnessed the true powers of the arcane. Above him, above the canopy, Illidan sat in a cocoon of power; magic wrapped around him in a glowing blue shell. His eyes shone a ferocious red, and his skin grew pale with the arcane power.

“Illidan, no!” But Malfurion’s desperate plea went unheard by Illidan, whose coma-like state seemed only to strengthen. Again his voice could be heard, though his lips were unmoving. It said, “Do not fear, brother. The Arcane is not a power to be feared. In incapable hands, perhaps, it could be destructive; but in mine it is a wondrous ability, a gift. With it I shall clear this storm and prove myself to you, prove to you the power of the Well.”

Enraged, Malfurion replied, “You will never prove to me that what is wrong can be right; or that justification can make any evil benign. The arcane powers of the Well are not to be trifled with, and if you insist on falling to them then I will be forced to subdue you.” At this, Illidan’s eyes opened, but it was not for sadness, or submission. His eyes flared with rage, with power. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and He floated to the ground. The bubble of energy faded, and Illidan stood before his brother silently. After several moments of contemplation, He said forcefully, “I have chosen my path, Malfurion, my fate. The Well has chosen me, as has Elune. Neither you nor anyone else shall deter me from this path. I will make my way to Azshara’s palace, where I shall be present to greet Sargeras in his coming to Azeroth.”

“I cannot let you, Illidan. I cannot let you destroy your life in the name of power.”

“Then your fate, too, has been decided.”

Illidan stepped back from his beloved brother, and drew his sword. A gleaming silver blade, elegant in the fashion of the kaldorei. Its hilt was of sturdy leather, inlaid with various glowing gems. He stepped into a battle stance, left foot forward, and right foot back. His blade was held forward dangerously, and his hands gripped it with monstrous force. As he turned his body sideways, his head remain focused on his brother.
“I won’t need the Well’s power to defeat you.” Illidan said.

“So it shall be.” Malfurion said. He too assumed a battle stance, identical to that of his brother’s. He held also an identical sword, a twin of his brother’s. Before these blades had fought together as allies, and now they would clash in a ferocious conflict between brothers. The brothers circled each other, neither combatant willing to make the first move.

Finally Illidan stepped forward, his impatience getting the better of him. His sword flashed in a brave thrust, though Malfurion dodged it easily; swatting it aside with his own blade. Malfurion retaliated with a horizontal swing, slashing at Illidan’s stomach. The elf jumped back, dodging the blade just in time. The pair continued to trade swings, each time deflecting and returning swings effortlessly. As one backed up, the other advanced; and the position was quickly reversed. The brothers continued fighting in a deadlock, neither gaining an edge over the other. The pair fought long into the night, and eventually Illidan’s focus was snapped, and the magic shell holding back the weather was dissolved. Rain poured onto both of them, and the brothers continued to fight. It quickly became a tedium to fight in the soaked armor, cloth and leather soaked through. Illidan ripped off his tunic, revealing his bare chest; pale as his face.

“The light of the moon has left your body, Illidan. You are pale as death itself.” Malfurion chided, stepping back to remove his own tunic. “Is the moon not pale?” Illidan replied smugly. When the pair was suitably comfortable, they charged back together, returning blows as before. Malfurion’s dark skin shone in the moonlight, as Illidan writhed, ghostlike. When Illidan realized that he could gain no advantage, he grimly stepped forward, plunging his leg into Malfurion’s gut in a powerful kick. Malfurion grunted, taking several steps back. “Does your callousness know no bounds?” He managed to utter, “Elune truly must have left you, if you resort to such methods of victory.”

Determined, Malfurion leapt forward, bringing his sword up in a vicious uppercut. “AARGH!” Illidan screamed, gripping his chest as blood flowed from the new wound. A gaping cut was splashed across his chest, reaching from his waist to his shoulder. Illidan fell to his knees, blood tainting the flooded ground. The rainwater turned an ugly red, the blood following unseen currents. Suddenly Illidan smiled a feral smile, his hand glowing with power. “You don’t need it.” Malfurion said in futility. Illidan laughed, the power filling the gaping cut. The wounded elf stood gently as the light faded. In its place was naught but scar tissue, the cut healed with the power of the Well of Eternity.

Malfurion dropped his sword, understanding that even he could not stop his brother in his lust for power. Illidan stepped forward, plunging his sword into Malfurion’s chest, until the blade extended out through his back. Malfurion dropped to his knees silently, as Illidan slid the sword out of his brother’s chest. Again blood filled the raging water as Malfurion fell to the ground, sprawled on the ground like a doll which has been thrown aside. Illidan spat into the water, which was already covering his feet. He turned grimly, and began to run into the forest.

When the storm faded, Tyrande found Malfurion lying in a clearing, blood long drained. “Furion.” Tyrande said, “Furion, wake up. Wake up! Please get up… Get up!” She said, as tears began to flow down her face. She laid herself over him, her head pressed against his chest. “Please Mal…” She whispered. She didn’t hear the sound of hooves padding across the grass, making their way through the clearing. Suddenly she was greeted by Cenarius, bending over the two night elves. “He can be saved,” He said to Tyrande, “but you must leave us alone. Elune has many plans for Malfurion. She will not let him die quite yet.”

Reluctantly, Tyrande nodded, leaving to join the other kaldorei hidden in the forest. Cenarius bent over the dying night elf, whispering into his ear inaudibly. When he was finished speaking, Cenarius placed his palm over Malfurion’s wound, as energy began to seep into his body. Malfurion’s eyes fluttered open slowly, and his mouth began to open and close gently. As he slowly regained consciousness, he started to sit up. “No.” Cenarius said simply, pressing his hand against Malfurion’s chest to stop him. Furion nodded, and he laid back down, his back brushing lightly against the bloodied grass. “He’s left.” Malfurion said quietly, as though his brother’s disappearance was his own fault. “We fought, and he… he left.”
“Yes,” Cenarius said, “It seems he has gone to warn Azshara of our plans to destroy the Well. He didn’t take kindly to the idea; his addiction has gotten only worse in our time away from the Well’s shores. You must not go after him again; the future of Kalimdor rests on your shoulders now.” The demigod looked into Malfurion’s eyes seriously, bright blue eyes looking into the kaldorei’s pale eyes.

“My mother has saved your life, Furion. Do not misuse your second chance.” Cenarius then stood, and galloped into the forest to join the rest of the resistance.
Malfurion closed his eyes as he attempted to sleep. The pain was gone, and Cenarius was right. The future rested in his shoulders now. The future of the kaldorei, and possibly of the entire world.

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ___________________

“Sargeras presents a threat not only to the kaldorei, but to all of Kalimdor.” Cenarius said simply, directing his gaze around the valley. Perched in the large valley were several dragons, representatives of each flight. Alextraza sat prominently on a large crag, her red scales shimmering in the sunlight. “Sargeras has declared war on all Azeroth, and we may be annihilated alongside the kaldorei whether we fight or not. If we are to fall, I would prefer we fall in battle, fighting valiantly alongside the Kaldorei.” She growled in her own tongue.

Alexstraza was friendly with Cenarius, as the two had met before on several occasions. Alextraza had seen immediately the threat posed by the Burning Legion, and had agreed to call this meeting of the dragonflights. “How are we to know the Legion’s intentions? Balance must be considered; the bronze dragonflight is impartial,” Said Nozdormu, ruler of the bronze dragonflight. “The kaldorei hold an important place in Kalimdor, but the survival of my own race must be considered first. If we ignore the legion, they may too ignore us.”

Alextraza growled impatiently. “That is a good point, but if Sargeras claims victory over the Kaldorei, the forests will be destroyed. The world will be scarred in Sargeras’ search for power. Does that sound like a balanced world to you?”

If a dragon could wear a shocked expression, Nozdormu would have been wearing it. Even stoic Cenarius raised a hand to cover a smirk. Ysera, ruler of the green dragonflight, said, “The kaldorei have been allies of the green dragonflight for centuries. If the dragonflight chooses to remain impartial, the green dragonflight will still come to Cenarius’ aid.”

Cenarius gave a slight nod in Ysera’s direction, an admission of thanks.
The dragons all shielded themselves as a rush of air filled the valley, and a shining black dragon landed in the valley. His glowing red eyes addressed them all, an expression of sheer hatred etched onto his reptilian face. “Deathwing.” Alextraza muttered under her breath. She said, loud enough for the dark dragon to hear, “Glad you could join us, Dark-bringer.”
Deathwing spoke with a deep voice, which resonated throughout the entire valley. He said, “How I so relish that name, Alextraza. I do enjoy the darkness. With darkness comes fear. With fear,” he chuckled, “well, with fear I, too, am present. Thoughts of me bring fear into the souls of any mortal.”

It was Cenarius’ turn to be snide as he said, “That may be true, but the Kaldorei are immortal, and we do not fear you.” Deathwing chuckled once more, as he said, “The kaldorei are mortal enough, demigod. You shall see, in the following days. The legion is powerful. Even you, son-of-the-earth, cannot stand in their path and hope to survive.”
Alextraza rose to her full height, though she was still a bit smaller than her nemesis, ruler of the black dragonflight. “You are not welcome here, Deathwing. This meeting has been called for the preservation of Kalimdor, not to aid in its destruction.”

“Don’t mind me,” Deathwing replied, “I am here merely to…observe.”
Cenarius spoke once again, using his mystic energy to make his voice echo around the valley. “Two flights now stand in alliance with the kaldorei. We face a dire threat, and even with all of you, there is slim chance of victory. However, with none of you, the kaldorei stand no chance at all. When Sargeras is done with them, they shall conquer all of Azeroth, and they will pick you off one by one. The red, the green, the blue, the bronze… the black. You will all be destroyed by the might of the Burning Legion. You are right, Deathwing, they are powerful. But so are we. United. Together, we are strong. Together we can stand against Sargeras. We can give birth to a new Kalimdor, one full of hope and of health. What say you, dragons of Kalimdor? Will you join me in the fight for the survival of our very world? For the freedom of all of Azeroth’s creatures?”

“I will.” Alextraza said.
“And I.” Ysera followed.

Soon after, the others followed suit:
“I will fight Sargeras.” Said Malygos, leader of the blue dragonflight.
“For Azeroth!” Said Nozdormu.
The lesser flights, of which there were many, also declared their allegiance to Kalimdor and to Azeroth.
Finally, all that was left was Deathwing, whose primary occupation was suffering. The black dragonflight wanted nothing more than to see the entire world in ruin.

“I will leave you all to your hope,” He spat, “Elune cannot stop the Legion. The Light cannot stop them. What makes you think that you can? You are all misguided, swayed by Cenarius’ lies. What you make of today is meaningless, for the true test has yet to come. Take care, dragons, for the darkness has yet to make its greatest move.” With that, the dragons flew out of the valley, powerful wings beating rhythmically. All that was left was Cenarius, Ysera, and Alextraza. “Take heart, Cenarius. Deathwing destroys, it is all he knows. We do not need the black dragonflight to win this war.” Ysera said.

Always enigmatic, the dragons flew off with their brethren, leaving Cenarius to his own misgivings. Not swayed by Ysera’s comforting comment, Cenarius galloped out of the valley in deep thought.

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ___________________

Malfurion woke up with a start. He got up, his back aching from once again sleeping on the hard ground. He walked to the edge of the cave he found himself in, the memories of the past war vivid in his head. It was true, they had won. But their victory was at great cost. He looked out across the encampment, seeing hundreds of sleeping kaldorei. Only a few weeks ago there had been several thousands of them, marching into battle against the Burning Legion. Malfurion had been forced to destroy the Well of Eternity, in a titanic final battle.

Malfurion and his allies had been forced to fight against their former queen Azshara, and his own brother Illidan. Illidan now lay buried on the battlefield, dead by Furion’s own hand. Cenarius had already begun to instruct some of the kaldorei in the ways of nature, the ways of the druid. In another day, they would reach their destination: Mount Hyjal, where they would rebuild their new civilization of druids. The Kaldorei had decided to abandon the arcane, now conscious of its fatal consequences.

The Kaldorei were on the verge of a new age, an age of natural power, an age of knowledge and celebration. Tyrande and Malfurion were now at its head, and Furion was surprisingly happy. He was happy that it was him. He was happy he was with Tyrande. He was happy most of all, however, because he knew… he knew that no matter the course his people took from here, she would be with him. And so too, Elune would be with him. The Kaldorei had made it through the darkness, and they would emerge now into a brilliant dawn. ]]> Reading For Insomniacs Legacy http://screenwritinggoldmine.com/forum/showthread.php?t=4410