Alright this is an official entry for Seventh Sanctum's newest contest Sanctum Showdown...The story is quite extensive...it almost wrote itself, so what winds up here may be an edited edition...I used the Monster Name generator and the Diety generator...so enough of my introduction....(and ps, it's edited)
MONSTER NAME GENERATOR: Ochre Raven.
DIETY GENERATOR: This open minded goddess of rain takes the form of a crone. She is short and has a thin build. She has ash grey hair worn in a style that resembles a lion's mane. Her narrow eyes are purple. She has light colored skin. She is usually portrayed nude. She carries a satchel of books.
The Ochre Raven happened up on the old crone deep in Tanglethorn woods, a happy rictus creasing the corners of its beak upon sight of her. She was quite alone, and beyond a dark leather satchel, wore veritabley nothing, save a thick mane of ash grey hair and her own pale skin. The latter fit quite loosely. She was small, thin of build...in short, easy prey. The Ochre Raven would play with her first, before unleashing its foul assault.
With a triumpant croak, and a thrashing of musty feathers, the monstrous beast confronted the withered personage, clotted wings raised menacingly, beak gaping, green cankerous tongue rudely extended. It gleefully awaited the horrified shrieks that usually accompanied its fearsome appearance, and became slightly disconcerted that she stood her ground without flinching. Rather, she stared back, defiantly with narrow purple eyes instead. A faint twinge of unease ruffled the tiny feathers on the back of the Raven's neck.
But the Raven was made of sterner stuff. It next proposed to rend her limb from limb, not really its strong suite, but nevertheless a tactic that never failed to give rise to terror in the intended victim. It was thoroughly shocked out of its fierce mien when the elderly being, in turn, and without preamble, proposed a contest. A contest! The Raven's gaping beak creaked closed in confusion. This wasn't how the scenario was supposed to play out.
"What? Against you?" The Ochre Raven cried, its every word enshrouded with the stench of severe halitosis, "you're a helpless old woman!" it sneered, as if to remind her of her currently unfulfilled role.
"And you're a peccant reprobate!" the crone replied equably. (Thank you, the Raven beamed proudly. Its vocabulary WAS rather limited) "besides", she went on, "this is only an illusion I present to humor the mortals. I'm actually a rain Goddess" (the Raven cast a look of doubt) "So are you game?"
Something in the old crone's voice piqued the Ochre Raven. However...it shook its musty, motheaten head.
"Prove you're a rain goddess!"
"I will in a moment, but here...look at these, instead"
She opened up the satchel to reveal a variety of books that shimmered and glowed even in the gloom of Tanglethorn Woods. Magical Books! SHINY books! The Raven's red eyes widened with greedy desire, but ere it could react, the satchel was quickly closed. "They're yours if you win. Are you game?" she repeated.
Almost against its better judgement, the Ochre Raven nodded. But the shiny books still burned at the back of his retinas. Shiny! Ravens of all colors loved shiny objects. The old woman had counted on it. She gave a satisfied smile that disappeared at either end into the wrinkled hyphens of her face.
"Good!" and she proceeded to lay out the rules.
Each would attempt to overhwelm the other with one ability, (ONLY ONE ability, the goddess insisted severely, and the Raven made a face.), she with her rain, the Ochre Raven with its halitosis. The prize? If the Raven won it would get the books...if the goddess won, she would get 3 tail feathers off the Raven. Fair enough, the Raven determined.
The goddess smiled sweetly this time. She had learned early in her career that her gift, combined with specific items of magical or abnormal properties produced some unusual results indeed, and she had come looking for this particular beast. A local burgermeister had recently insulted her, through the medium of bad words, and boy was she going to rain on HIS parade this coming Octoberfest! But she'd only read about the end products of Ochre Raven tail feathers...she had yet to try it out and see the end results for herself.
Thus the contest began, the Raven immediately enshrouding the vicinity with a noxious miasma that wilted the very plants at the same time a gentle rain began to fall...
...and here we leave them because this could go on for the next two - three pages.