Rosalind wrote:

The Entity wrote:

Whatever goes maybe? I don't think all of us are terribly familiar with Greek or other mythologies. Maybe we can post a concept and others can find ways to assimilate and fit it into the general overall mythological feel if it doesn't fit in well enough by itself.

What I mean by the "Greek Format" is that whilst there are many Gods, Demons, Philosophers and so on, they dont all get along with one another. You can chop out whatever mythology you are familiar with - not just Greek - and incorporate it into the story. I think the main intention is to try to avoid sci-fi and instead go for mythological fantasy.

Yeah I know, but I was saying that if somebody thinks of a good idea but it doesn't really fit into the overall mythological fantasy feel, somebody who's more experienced/knowledgeable/creative with that stuff can take those concepts and edit them so they fit.

Don't make it overly symmetrical and balanced. I HATE it when constructed mythologies are so... equal and balanced.

Nautilus wrote:

Don't make it overly symmetrical and balanced. I HATE it when constructed mythologies are so... equal and balanced.

Imba is for hax

IF YOU ARE A HAX
DO NOT JOIN SERVER

REMEMBER WHAT MODERATOR SAID
ONLY BANHAMMER IS REAL

- 54RC0F4G0

What.

Alright, the ideas and discussion have been interesting. But it'll help if you guys actually start writing something, you know I'm gonna go write stuff on origins.

Like I said before, anyone can (and should) just write something and send it. We'll see later if it fits and flows. But apparently not so many Lifers visit the Writers' Den.

We could use the Electric Castle from Ayreon as a Mt. Olympus figure maybe? It can be guarded by someone who's blind.

Paul Masvidal and Sean Reinert can be Cynics, since they're from, well, Cynic.

Deathmaster would wield the Doomsword.

Since we need someone to kick this off:

The Dark War

Let it be known that the great gods were not borne of flesh and blood, but always have been. Since the dawn of time they have lain in wait, biding their time until the time was ripe for their awakening, ready to unleash a torrent of metal upon the earth not fit to listen to its wisdom. But as powerful as the great gods are, omniscient they are not, and many of this world’s most devastating battles have shook this land in their name. The Dark War is but one, for some creatures should never have been born into this world. This is a tale of deception and lies, chaos and anarchy: this is the tale of Mayhem.

It was the Deity DeMaio, son of The Great Halford that made such a mistake. Made ever so slightly retarded when The Great Halford bellowed his thunderous cry for painkillers at the steel plant where he spread his message of metal in a rather ironic manner (though most pitiful mortals never made the connection), after accidentally chopping his brother’s (Great Lord Iommi) fingers off, he became devious (a bit like ‘Puck’ from ‘A Midsummers Night Dream,’ but without the elf costume), rather a big problem when he has the power over fertility. Estranged after a heated argument (Spandex vs Leather), he was thrown from his dwellings and began walking the land, seeking new sources for his amusement.

Unable to travel far, he soon found himself in a brothel Stoke-on-Trent, drawn to a mysterious power; the raw animal magnetism drawing him closer. It was through the haze of smoke and stench of whisky, past the strippers to his left, then his right, then his left again, that he found the source of the energy. The Great Wart of the Lemmy (the wart is great, sustaining his hosts body indefinitely in return for transportation) lay before him, elegantly draped in soft tissue paper after having a bit cut off whilst shaving earlier; immediately drawn towards each other they consummated their lust for one another in a passionate frenzy.

The Great Wart awoke alone, without knowledge of what events had occurred the previous night (or indeed most nights for that matter), and so for 9 long months and a band member later – never tell Lemmy he ‘looks like he’s put on a few pounds’ – the quadruplets waited, growing in a sea of alcohol and tobacco, becoming ever more disfigured until the fateful day of their arrival into a world not fit for their kind. Shocked, The Great Wart turned to the father of all Gods, The Creator of Crack, Lord Oswald Oswalligus Ortungus Osbourne for counsel. Through the cries (of “Shaaaaroooon”) it was agreed that the brothers should be banished to the frozen wastes of Norway and never spoken of again.

But they were not alone. A mysterious figure lay in the shadows, waiting by the window, ever patient, watching, for souls that were tormented as his to distort and play with. Screaming in delight at this discovery, The Great Halford called the police but he had already escaped before their arrival. For over a decade he searched for the brothers in the icy depths of the north, until finally his search was over. The four brothers; Dead, with powers of necromancery; Hellhammer, with powers of fire and brimstone; Euronynous, the shapeshifter and Ted, the demi-god of saying-the-wrong-thing-at-the-wrong-time, arose. And in a booming voice that shook the very mountains, the figure bellowed “Bow before me, for I am Lord Grishnakh.” Ted responded with “What kind of gay name is that?” and soon there were but three brothers remaining. “Join me,” he bellowed once more “and we shall seek retribution on this world that denied our existence.”

Deftly they began work, forging music from the very bowels of Hell, Hellhammer carving their message in fire and brimstone (though they soon switched to using a pencil – having all that fire about kept burning the paper they wrote the lyrics on, not to mention the amount of guitars Hellhammer got his way though). It soon became apparent that this figure was no mere mortal, concealing his true identity. Dead began to goad the creature, trying to force him to reveal his true identity, Grishnackh swatting him aside like a fly until the fateful day that saw him eat the barrel of The Count’s shotgun. In a momentary lapse of judgement he sent a steaming pile of hot man metal to the back of his throat, before writing a note for the cleaners apologizing for the mess, but the cleaners never arrived.

Fearing for their lives, the two remaining brothers came up with a scheme to escape the clutches of this demon. Knowing a full-frontal hardcore assault would be futile, they escaped into the night during the Count’s nap-time. It was through their combined efforts that their devious plot came to be; Euronymous stealing the identity of the Count Grishnackh, dancing and prancing in a homoerotic way for a camera held by Hellhammer in a desperate attempt to sabotage Grishnackh’s image (this image would later be adopted by ‘Immortal,’ inspiring a new wave of Norwegian BM, and permanently destroying the image he strived for); it was not these video’s that struck the nation, but the accidental mishaps. From a cold brought on by the night, the demi-god Hellhammer sneezed a great fiery sneeze that erupted like a flamethrower to end all flamethrowers, laying waste to many a church in the distance. As the flames grew ever higher, Grishnackh awoke from his slumber to discover the two brothers returning. Realising what had occurred (Euronymous probably shouldn’t have stayed in Grishnackh’s form), he stole the camera from their clutches. Seeing his likeness being stolen and misrepresented, in a blind rage he gave chase.

For two years they evaded his evil clutches, long since separated in the hope that one could survive, Grishnackh searched, eventually tracking Euronymous to a small flat in Norway. Calmly he entered and with a twisted smile, slaughtered his helpless victim. As the blade struck its final blow, the gentle ‘vvvt’ sound as he extracted the blade Euronymous uttered his final words. “Argh.” Standing triumphant, in a deep voice that shook the very ground he roared “From this day forward, let me be known as Varg in memory of what I am capable of.” Unfortunately so determined and focused on this task, he failed to notice the large number of police who had him surrounded. “Alright Varg, you have the right remain silent.” Through the window he looked; Hellhammer, dressed in a pink shirt and with an ear-ring in his left ear, had been keeping watch over his brother. With a smile, he was led away to the only form of prison powerful enough to contain his might, having built specifically for such a creature. Far nicer than anywhere else in the country, and given plenty of exercise, woodwork activities and weekends off, it became an addiction that he couldn’t leave behind.

For 17 years he tried to kick the addiction, and now, he is finally free of its dark clutches. Roaming the land once more to finish what he began all those years ago; his only lead that he is being kept hidden by a man named Gaahl, deep in the Norwegian wilderness in exchange for ‘services,’ he resumes his quest once more to end the reign of bad Norwegian BM bands once and for all...



I have an idea for another, but I felt this was too tied to the facts - I wanted to keep it roughly to the timeline. The other is very much more open and 'outside the box,' though probably shorter.

THIS IS GOLD! Lord Oswald Oswalligus Ortungus Osbourne Only thing I found weird was that Lemmy gets pregnant. He's anything but gay!

That. Was. Awesome!

Ahmedeus wrote:

THIS IS GOLD! Lord Oswald Oswalligus Ortungus Osbourne Only thing I found weird was that Lemmy gets pregnant. He's anything but gay!

Lemmy is merely the vessel for the wart (its the only explanation I could think of for the fact he isn't dead yet). I imagine the wart is happy to go either way.

Loving the idea, and that's some great stuff Ahmed and Thomas, I'am not that much of a writer though, hell this is my first visit to the writer's den.

How come no one mentioned Metallica and Megadeth yet ? They ought to have a story, something like -I'll try to pick up from your tale Thomas-

But there was another son, unspoken of, unknown of even to his own four brothers as he was a disgrace if compared to them, as he had non of their evilness or kvltness, it was..Hetfield with the power of spreading pain and agony through his un-tolerable voice. Hetfield was sent half way across the world (America) to avoid any chances of him meeting with his brothers -as he'd most likely be torn apart by them. There, he met with a most talented -but always stoned or drunk- beast that would soon become his mate in what would lay the foundations of the un-holy, thrash metal, he met, Mustaine. But there was another not so much of a beast, more of an ass, they met who helped lay the foundation of the -once upon a time- mighty "Metalli(cus)" only he was the laughing stock of his peers, some say because of his gay name (Lars Ulrich) others say his mother was a whore -hence his love for coins- and some say it's because instead of blasting hell through his drum sticks, he induced sleep. Because Mustain's excellence compared to his fool of band members, they statred getting jealous of him as he masterminded what was soon to become their greatest hit and their way into spreading relentless symphonies to the world. So, one day as the mighty Mustaine awoke from his sleep, he was surprised by the betrayal of the other members telling him he's no longer a member of "Metalli(cus)" because he was always a drunk -though they all were often stoned and drunk..

This sounds nothing related to mythology.

It didn't. I'd have made a joke about Lars liking to shove drum sticks up his ass too. Otherwise its not bad, but perhaps needed more of a fresh idea to it.

Anyway, i'm still working on the plot details for the next one. As such its called "The Annunaki," and is about evil hellspawn trying to conquer the world.

I'll give it a try. Note that I forgot how long a portion of a saga should be.

The Yngwie Sagas

The dragon's head peered over the waves, in the distance lay a foreign land. A rainbow shining through the darkness of the night illuminated the sky. The dragon's head rose from the waves once more revealing a large, battered long-ship. Its white sails were torn to shreds, the boat itself was battered beyond repair but by the good graces of Halford--god of song and patron of all things graceful--the ship remained intact, determined to reach its destination. Hours passed and finally the sole surviving passenger awakened. Head foggy and still spinning, the dark haired male sat up and looked around. Around him the darkness and thrashing of the waves were his only company. To his side is a broken axe, the neck shattered and splintered.

The passenger picked up the pieces of the axe and sighed to himself. He took the time to scan the ship's deck only to find oars working themselves. "What sorcery is this? What sorcery allows for a boat to row itself? Where are the war slaves? Where is our crew? Where are my brothers?" he shouted. He turned to see land is a mere minute away, "Where am I?"

A flash of light exploded before him! Shielding his eyes the warrior glanced over to see a being in black leather and studs upon a metal beast...growing and snarling. The beast's sole eye shone on the warrior who backed away. Unprotected, the beast could have its way with the warrior. The eye dimmed and the warrior looked at the shining being. "Hail and well met, my son of metal. I am Halford, god of song and your guardian." said the being in a calming tone.

The warrior lowered his guard, eyes widened and mouth agape. "You are...Halford?" he asked. The warrior went to all fours and lowered his head, "I am Yngwie, a humble warrior of the Order of Axes. I am not worthy to be in your presence! May I take the splinters of my shattered axe and gouge my eyes for I have angered thee by glancing upon you!"

Halford dismounted his iron stead and knelt before Yngwie. Placing a hand on his shoulder he smiled and said, "There is no need to bow or for you to harm yourself, my son. You have served the Metal Gods well."

"No," said Yngwie, "This must be a dream! I died! He killed me with his dreaded four-headed axe at the Battle of Shredder's Throne! He betrayed the Order!"

Halford frowned and lifted his hand, "Yes, Batio betrayed the Order. I saw it with my electric eye. He was in conspiracy with the Brothers of the Drunken Axes, Li and Totman. I have tried many a moon to disrupt their activities, but they plot their ills behind the wall of sleep." He pointed a studded leather glove towards the land just as the ship reached the shallow waters, "The Wall of Sleep lies within this land. Painkiller rides over the island every so often and told me he got wind of crooked magicks."

Now on his knees, Yngwie looked to the island and back to Halford, "I have no arms with which to bring them to justice Oh Mighty Halford. My axe was shattered in a battle of speed and fury against Li and Totman...as Batio watched and played riffs that stirred the clouds and awakened the thunderbeasts! Lo, I have no weapon with which to punish them..." with that he lowered his head in shame. A golden light bathed the boat as an object descended from the heavens and into Halford's grasp.

"I present to you Downing's Blade, a furious axe once belonging to the mighty warrior K.K who once slew many a winterdemon in the wastes surrounding Blashyrkh before The Mighty Ravendark enslaved him." Halford said, "Ravendark's kingdom lies within the Realm of Metal, beyond the mortal's reach...but you needn't concern yourself with him, you must destroy the traitor of the Order and the bastards of speed. You must slay Batio, Totman, and Li!"

Yngwie rose to his feet, the golden glow of Downing's Blade bathing his ragged tunic and mantle and took the axe by the neck. It was light, but has apparently tasted the blood of many a demon throughout the Realm of Metal. He could feel himself rejuvenated, the years spent adrift on this accursed ghost ship seemed to drain away and give way to youthful metal power. His faded brown and grayed locks turned a vibrant raven and blew in the winds of a fearful sea. His wraith-like tunic was replaced by red and black leather. Enpowered Yngwie thrust the axe to the heavens and shouted, "I AM YNGWIE! I WILL UNLEASH THE FUCKING FURY!!!"

Halford nodded approvingly and disappeared in a faint light. Yngwie climbed to the dragon figurehead of the ship and landed on the beach of this strange island, before him lay a dark forest of unknown dangers. He sheathed the axe and ventured into darkness...

^ I liked this. A semi-serious take on the idea, I hadn't actually considered this. I always assumed it would be OTT nonsense

So far we just took a semi-serious approach...and peppered in some metal references in mythological context. It shouldn't be too hard, plus I read your story a few times to see if I could get a hang of it.

...although killing Ted made me a sad panda.

I want to see an Argonauts story soon. That should be great.

"I saw it with my electric eye" haha, that was amazing. Very poetic and epic, I loved it. You're a great writer. I wrote mine as if they were facts (like it's written in the Greek myth books I have), no metaphors or descriptions, just "this and that". But I like the way you guys are doing it.

I'm collecting and arranging all these stories, btw.

Lol Mustafa, you're right, that was not mythological at all! Perhaps if you made it a little more epic.

Fuck and aids, I have all these ideas but I don't know how to really translate into stories as much as I do generally descriptive summaries.

I originally wanted to write it in the same manner of ancient myths, but had trouble doing so. The three I've done so far seem more like they're being written for a novel or short story type thing. I am having fun with it though.

Yngwie Encounters The Carnivore

Strange sounds echoed in the darkness as Yngwie made his way through the unknown jungle at the front of the island. In his heart burned a raging inferno of hatred and malice towards his former brother-in-arms, Batio. It was his fellow Order of Axes brother who allowed him to be subjected to wicked weapon wankery and sonic shred sorcery...this same auditory assault that managed to blow him into the air and onto the long-ship. It was while unconscious that his long-ship was sent adrift for many year. The thoughts came flooding back forcing the axe-wielding warrior to his knees. The images throbbed about his skull and infuriated him even further.

Yngwie glanced up to see beasts stampeding towards him. He could see the fear in their eyes as they exploded past him. As the dust finally cleared around him he could see an opening in the brush torn by the fear-stricken beasts. "What could have frightened them so?" Yngwie asked himself. His answered approached in the form of two burning eyes. Yngwie got to his feet and drew his axe--Downing's Blade given to him by the god Halford. Grapsing the weapon with two hands, he readied himself "HAVE AT THEE, BEAST!" he shouted.

The beast bellowed low and approached from the blackness. Yngwie made sure to keep his distance as the beast stepped into the clearing, the moonlight revealing its trueself. Sixteen severed heads high and covered in fur, its tusk pointed forward, and in its drooling mouth was the snapped and mangled carcass of a bear. The beast dropped the bear and swiped at a tree with its razor sharp claws before advancing towards Yngwie. There was a chain rattling as it walked, Yngwie could see several chains dangling from a spiked collar. Could this beast belong to someone? Who could be master to such a predator?

Upon a tree branch not to far from him a being stirred, "Welcome warrior...Carnivore hasn't had mortal human meat since the fool Vinnie Paul came venturing in here four moons ago." The voice was obviously female, but still Yngwie couldn't see her.

"SHOW YOURSELF, WENCH!" Yngwie shouted. He completely turned his attention towards the trees from which the voice came. Suddenly the beast known as Carnivore lunged at Yngwie! Using his instinct and relexes he managed to evade the claw swipe and take to running towards the voice.

A wicked laugh rang and some rapid notes were played just as the ground burst into flames before the tree, "Keep your distance, mortal." Yngwie gritted his teeth and turned to see Carnivore eyeing him hungrily. Drool dripping out and tongue hanging south, Carnivore sneered and pawed the earth. Yngwie continued watching as Carnivore snarled and bellowed "I LOVE TO EAT PUSSY!"

Stunned Yngwie backed away, "The beast speaks?!" he asked.

"No," the voice answered, "It will only say 'I LOVE TO EAT PUSSY!' for it does."

The beast caught Yngwie with a swipe of its tail, knocking the warrior into a tree. Yngwie gathered himself quickly in time to block a tusk with his axe! The eyes of the spectator watched with great interest as Yngwie continued to evade and block Carnivore's attacks. For hours, Yngwie searched for an opening, but couldn't find one. For hours he attempted to get out of Carnivore's reach, but failed. The musclar beast kept Yngwie at bay and bore no signs of tiring. Yngwie rested on his axe for a moment as the beast kept an eye on him.

"He loves to play with his food." the voice said, strumming gently on her axe. "You could call it pre-meal entertainment." Yngwie gathered himself once more and rushed toward at the beast. Instead of evading he would fight it head on. Steel met bone as the axe collided with the tusk! Carnivore forced Yngwie back, but the warrior wouldn't let up. Carnivore flung his head to the heavens, tossing Yngwie into the sky and opened its mouth to devour him. The warrior fell down the gullet and Carnivore swallowed him axe and all. The source of the voice fell to the ground and stepped into the clearing, a golden-haired axe maiden clothed in leather and spikes. She petted Carnivore and shook her head, "That ended on a dismal note, my love."

The axe maiden continued grabbed a chain and led Carnivore back towards the darkness. Suddenly there was a hard tug on the chain, the maiden turned to see Carnivore was downed and appeared in pain. The woman rushed to his side, "My love, what is wrong? What ails you?"

She placed an ear to its heart and could hear rapid riffs being played. There was a long, echoing dive bomb and then silence. Soon afterwards, Carnivore's gourd exploded as if Varg had sent a piece of hot burning metal erupting from the ground and into the beast's mind. Drenched in Carnivore's blood and with its innards wrapped around his neck, Yngwie emerged from its cavity! He thrust his axe to the sky allowing lightning to dance off its strings. He then pointed the body of his axe at the woman, "I have unleashed the fucking fury and slain your pet! You are now my wench, shrew!"

The woman attempted to recollect Carnivore's mind cavity and piece him back together, but failed. Tears streaming from her eyes she glared at Yngwie to stood victorious, crotch pointed in her direction "I SHALL NOT BE YOUR BRIDE, VILE SWEDE! I shall take up your head for you have doomed my love to an eternity of toil and torment in the realm of He who sits upon the darkthrone! My love is now a minion of Varg and you wear his blood and innards as a trophy. My axe shall ensure that you meet the same fate! HEED MY NAME, SWEDE! I am The Great Kat...WORSHIP ME OR DIE!!!"

An exhausted Yngwie took up his axe once more and readied himself for a second battle. The Great Kat had the same hatred and ambition that he had earlier and her killer instinct could be as great if not greater than Yngwie's. Slowly the sky turned an orange hue as the sun rose far in the east. In the clearing of this curious, dangerous forest two axemaster stood face to face...however before the day rested only one would leave with their life.

Ugh, I forgot all about this. Just have no time to sit down and write.