[Prompt] Lying

((Final writing prompt for now. Going to take a break until after Shadowlands at some point. Feel free to pop into the older prompts or post your own until then.))

We all lie at some point in our lives. It could be a lie to ourselves to convince us it is okay, or perhaps you make a living from your lying. Some of us lie like it is a truth, and some struggle greatly with falsifying their words or thoughts.

Tell us about your biggest lie, or perhaps a time you got caught within your own web. How did you get caught, what mistake did you make? Or perhaps tell us the moment the lie you built for yourself shattered.


Info

This is meant to be a fun exercise, so there aren’t many rules.

Prompts are fun little things meant to inspire. You don’t have to perfectly match the prompt. Just let it inspire a thought.

I’m going to try and post these weekly, sometime between Saturday and Monday probably. Feedback and prompt ideas are welcome, so feel free to post them in the archive thread. Some prompts will be more thought provoking, some more whimsical. Respect your fellow writers.

Disclaimer: I cannot take full credit for every prompt. Some of these I create on my own, some are prompts I’ve seen that I’ve taken a WoW spin to, and some I’ve seen and used in the past, some are ideas spoken in passing between me and coworkers, or guildmates, or some are offered directly from folks on the forums. If I’ve been directly given a prompt from another person, I will credit them unless they do not want to. Otherwise, know some of these are gained through many means.


Archive: Kersia's Prompt Archive and Discussion

4 Likes

Thanks for the promt. I attempted to write a story of a lie in the form of a poem.

On sun soaked grass in hidden hills
Woo-jin Softpaw looked amused.
Banners high, colored bloody red
Two armies stood awaiting but a fuse.

Shouts and cries, belts and whistles,
The thundering of war.
Clash after clash, thud after thud,
Soon blue banners were no more.

Woo-jin Softpaw, now alone,
Tucked blue identity aside.
A red scarf, tattoos of blood,
Woo-jin Softpaw switched sides.

In camp not far east,
The traitor settled in.
Surrounded by foreign faces,
No friendly smiles, just Woo-jin.

A disturbance, a tap,
A greeting on his shoulder.
Woo-jin discover behind him,
A pandaren girl, not much older.

With bows exchanged, heads tucked in
And as greetings passed them by.
Hee-yun Brewcoil and her red hairpiece,
Caught Woo-jin by surprise.

Sly smiles, thumping hearts,
No control over their situation.
Woo-jin kept blue identity hidden,
As he succumbed to adoration.

War horns and chants,
Bellows and cries.
The alliance approaching,
Rise members of horde, rise.

Fast feet and locked hands,
Hee-yun led Woo-jin to battle.
Hidden Hills, Sun soaked grass.
Thundering drums, the ground began to rattle.

Hee-yun ran ahead,
And screamed chants of war.
Woo-jin held firm on grassy hills,
Understanding their hands connected no more.

Now exposed to blistering heat,
Woo-jin held blue headscarf high.
Hee-yun noticed Woo-jins absence,
And couldn’t understand why.

False assumptions, rage and blood,
Boiled deep within.
Hee-yun gripped swords tight,
And charged Woo-jin.

Steel and flesh, widened eyes,
Things Hee-yun wished not see.
He should have dodged, she told herself,
The blood, the blade, this can not be.

On sun soaked grass in hidden hills,
Woo-jin Softpaw had not doubt.
Fading light, a chorus of tears,
Two hearts not ready for one to go out.

5 Likes

That was lovely, and thought provoking! Was truly a pleasure to read

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sad angry crying please don’t forget about us q-q

My priest like many other forsaken truly despise what happened to them. Losing her connection to the light she plunged deep into the cult of forgotten shadows. learning its ways and becoming a void ascended forsaken.

her biggest lie is that she is fine being a forsaken… but in fact, she hates what she has became.
There’s no returning to the light so she accepts this but subconsciously she still views herself as a monster.

4 Likes

That was really neat, I like it. I love to use poems as a way to be creative in a new style and weave a story in a unique fashion.

I don’t intend to. Between school, life, and malaise I’ve just had little to no creative drive. Almost done with school though.

Was struggling to come up with prompt ideas and it was feeling less fun and more chore-ish D: I truly enjoy reading the responses, but it was becoming a struggle. Might do it more on a monthly basis after Shadowlands starts.

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No, ya i understand that completely. just understand that we are all pretty big fans of your creative prompts.
its inspiring and honestly pretty dope.

1 Like

“The biggest lie? Hah! That’s a good question!” Dazzek’s eyes peer out from his thin brimmed hat… “Reminds me of a time at a bar just like this…” Dazzek said taking a large drink from a mug in his hands… “I once was in a great bar in Gadgetzan, the dusty sands outside and burning sun like a oven fire quenched by tall strong drinks… A Human already sat idly by the bar her own attentions turned to the grilled lizard meat and drink at her side before I made my way over.”
“”Is that the only food you can get from this place? Seems like you need a stiffer drink friend!” Dazzek said inhaling on his lit cigar before grabbing a tall bottle of Sun touched special reserve, a wine found only in Silvermoon City. “Try some of this instead, in exchange all I want to know is how a girl like you ended up in a place like this?” Dazzek said a coy smile on his face his cigar hanging off to one side between his sharp teeth. That was the key, give anyone a taste of culture and they were much more open, that or a strong drink they were unaccustomed too…

“Here to explore the ruins of Zul’farrak? I mean that’s why I came, hoping to dig something up!” Dazzek said a toothy smile on his face time had flown so fast with his new friend. The human, a tall blond haired female had rough leather covering her form and a adventurous look in her emerald eyes. Dazzek smiles those eyes though memorizing to some told Dazzek a different story like most of her kind, they still gleamed with some foolish innocence… The female hesitated she hardly could trust such a new face, but Vulpera looks were ever disarming and strong alchohol had taken its toll “Actually, don’t tell any of those goblins now… But we already found a massive treasure trove of a buried Sandfury warlord!” The women whispered her words loosened by the strong Silvermoon wine… “I am then Probably betting your eager to return home to your family to share the news?” Dazzek asked taking another sip of his mug he took a drag off his cigar while awaiting the answer… The girl looked down a sadness to her eyes… To some a open ended answer, to the clever creature Dazzek was it meant she had no family…

“Don’t worry about it doll, You don’t have to say a thing.” Dazzek said pouring her another glass of the suntouched special reserve… “It’s a time for celebration after all someone is gonna be very rich!” Dazzek said raising his mug, “Here’s to your discovery may it bring wealth to those who deserve it!” The Vulpera said his ever coy grin upon his face… “Where did you hide it by the way?” Dazzek asked, his eyes growing big, his ears down… The women hesitated once again, “You can trust a little ole Vulpera like me!” Dazzek whispered, his voice trying to ease some comfort into the women. The innocent female took a deep breath before relaxing, this was her friend! “I left it in the sand below a old desert tree just north of Gadgetzan, it’ll be safe before my boat comes to get me.” The women said with a smile! “Well then I’ll have to say goodbye when you leave, won’t I?” Dazzek said pouring another tall glass of suntouched special reserve… This last time however, the clever Vulpera added a small extra ingredient, something he got from his Cartel members a small potent mix of MDMA and Ketamine… The a lovely mixture that left one without memories of the night before…

The women awoke with a startled jump! Was it noon already?! The leather clad women making her way out of the tavern only to be stopped by a roiling sandstorm… It would take her three more hours of waiting before she got outside to check her hiding spot… Not a copper piece was left… The dejected women dropped to her knees into the burning sand… All her work, all the time she spent in those ruins were for nothing… The women had a tear appear on her cheek before a blade pierced her stomach, “It’s just business… I was after all raised by goblins…” Dazzek hissed in the women’s ear before she fell to the side her organs punctured… Bleeding out and dying from the friendly face she had met earlier in the sandy bar…

“My biggest lie, is that you can trust me.” Dazzek said taking another tall sip on his mug full of drink and exhaling red smoke from his lit cigar. Before the Vulpera seemed to fade away into the sandy shadows of the bar, it was rough in the untamed frontier.

4 Likes

“Because… …what choice do you have?”

The Forsaken’s words resonated in Tanthelara’s mind. She had been so careful to keep her loyalty to the Warchief concealed once popular opinion began to side with Saurfang’s rebellion. How could she have been found out? The priestess pursed her lips as she waited at the rendevous point outside the Valley of Spirits. Night had fallen, leaving only the soft trickling of the Southfury and the fauna that thrived on its banks as her only company.

“I have to say, it is impressive to see a devotee of the Light being so deceptive…” a familiar voice called out from the darkness, sarcasm and contempt palpable in its tone. Moments later a figure emerged from the shadows ahead of the priestess.

“…or is it something darker that guides your tongue when it weaves its web of deceit?”

“Soliena.” Tanthelara muttered softly to herself as she gripped the handle of the dagger she kept concealed behind her back. Her secret had to remain safe, one way or another. Seeing throngs of fellow loyalists to the Banshee Queen being escorted in chains to who-knows-where was motivation enough to keep her allegiance a secret. The knowledge of what her people have previously done to beings far more righteous than her cemented that motivation.

“You can relax, elf,” Soliena said as she stepped into the silvery moonlight. “I am not your enemy. Your secret is safe with me.”

Tanthelara released her grip on the dagger, her apprehension causing her to subconsciously trace the beginnings of a shadowy incantation with her fingertips as her hand returned to her side. “Then why the threat?”

Soliena laughed softly. “Insurance. How else was I to guarantee you wouldn’t try to double cross me for the sake of defending your little secret? As I said, we know all about you. Your loyalties. Your allegiances. Your struggle with the Void…” The undead rogue circled around the blood elf, drawing closer with every pass.

“Even the blood magic. We know it all…”

The priestess’s eyes widened and a chill ran up her spine. She had dabbled in blood magic only on exceedingly rare occasions, and only when she was far away from any sign of another living being. A working knowledge of it, yes, but it was far from being san’layn as many would believe those who wielded such power to be. Tanthelara’s body tensed from the feeling of exposure overwhelming her.

“Who are you with?” she spat, the timidness of exposure quickly turning to anger while her subconscious continued tracing the incantation. “Royal Apothecary Society? Desolate Council?” she scrambled to remember any group she may have heard the Forsaken being involved in. “Cult of Forgotten Shadows? Cult of the Damned? What do you want with me?!”

Soliena laughed again, shaking her head this time. “I am neither a priest, nor part of the Scourge. Who I am with is of little importance, blood elf. All you must know is that Saurfang’s rebellion has done more than simply divide the Horde, but I suggest we go elsewhere to continue our conversation.” she said, motioning towards a Darkspear troll in the watchtower behind them, holding a lit torch overhead. The rogue acknowledged the troll’s presence with a wave of her bony hand, nudging Tanthelara to do the same. The troll motioned back and muttered something in Zandali that got lost on the winds before returning to his watch.

“Come, walk with me.” the Forsaken beckoned. “Or you can try that void spell you’ve been so carefully crafting all this time, and see how well that works out. Even if you are stronger than you appear, I’m certain our friend up on the tower over there will take notice.”

Tanthelara stood aghast for a moment and then negated the incantation with a flick of her wrist. Soliena noticed and grinned, the dull yellow glow from her eyes mixing with the moonlight on her rotting teeth.

“Good…” the rogue murmured quietly.

Not to be outdone by this rogue’s audacity to call her out, she paused for a moment and conjured a small, swirling sphere of darkness in her hand with the latent energies still lingering from the previous spell.

“Or I could just kill you now, for the insult of blackmail and threats used to get me here. When the guards arrive I’ll just say you were a loyalist to the Banshee Queen and were trying to recruit me into an insurgency.” the priestess spoke, doing her best to rein in the contempt in her voice.

Soliena turned to face her, her expression changing to be as solemn as the grave that bore her into dark unlife.

“You could, and you’d probably succeed. Between the penchant simple minds have to believe pretty faces and your shadow magic, you probably would be safe for a good while - if your secret was ever rediscovered.”

The rogue drew her daggers and tossed them on the ground with a soft metallic thunk.

“I’ll even make myself an easier target for your dark wrath,” she said with her arms stretched out before the priestess, “though before you undo Lady Windrunner’s work, do tell me how you plan to contend with the others. As I said, we know it all. How do you plan to contend with the Void’s whispers on your own?”

As if on cue, the Void reached out and brushed Tanthelara’s mind.

…submit… and become one with us…

“Well?” the rogue asked, holding her head high as her decayed body would allow. “What shall you do, little elf?”

((hope you enjoyed. apologies if this one isn’t up to normal quality, I’ve been struggling with the story I was wanting to tell since the prompt was created, and recently have had work & health issues piled on top. Working on an unprompted piece to bridge between BfA & SL as well, so stay tuned!))

4 Likes

The people who had been closest to her sister knew the truth, and Rose knew it, too. But somehow…after losing her sister, she found that she couldn’t focus on her work as she once had. It had taken time to train her replacement—to hone, in her, the skills, mannerisms, and voice that had been a facet of her exploits for so many years. But in the end, she’d managed it.

It had taken her longer to find the Light—the hallmark of her twin’s power. Each day had been one disappointment after another, but she knew she couldn’t give up. She never questioned why she was seeking to become her sister within the priesthood. She never wanted to look that hard at the reasons. It simply became a passion following her twin’s untimely death.

The news came one day from the frontlines of the Broken Isles, a messenger bearing the seal of Stormwind. He was young, barely more than sixteen or seventeen at most. He’d knocked on the door to her parents’ home, and when her mother had opened the door, seen the parchment with its seal, she simply left the door open, leaving Rose and her father to answer it as she retreated into the bedroom.

Rose nodded to the young man, offering him a few coins for his trouble as she took the missive. “I guess the war has them busy, then?” she asked him, and he simply nodded, his features grim and stoic. “Normally they’d send one of the head priests or a knight,” he’d replied, “But with the Legion’s armies here on Azeroth, it’s all they can do to manage the influx.” He’d been about to leave, then paused, looking back up at Rose, his eyes so young and expressive, full of apology. “I’m sorry for your loss….”

With that, he’d turned and hurried on his way. There had been more than one letter in his possession.

Rose blinked, pulling herself from the memory and seeking to refocus her efforts on her prayers. But the memories continued in spite of her efforts at mouthing the holy words.

“Why would you choose the moniker your sister took?” Anetta asked her. She had made her first connection with the Light only a few days before, and the priestess trainer had finally given her leave to study as one of them.

“Why does it matter?” Rose had replied, her tone touched with frustration. “There’s no Priestess Syrenity within the Church now. So I will take on the name and continue her work.”

Anetta seemed about to say something, so Rose cut her off. “That’s all there is to it. You can either agree to it, or I’ll find someone else who will.” She knew she sounded angry and childish, but she wasn’t about to give up on the path she had chosen.

The look on the trainer’s face was filled with pity, something that made Rose clench her fists and grit her teeth, but to her relief Anetta merely replied, “In spite of your irreverence, I will consider your request. In the mean time, you still have much to learn, Acolyte.”

As the chant continued around her, Rose’s lips fell silent, unable to recall the words any longer.

Still much to learn….

With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and bowed her head, her shoulders bent forward in defeat, her kneeling figure hunched forward in seeming exhaustion. While the power of the Light had eventually come easily to her, filling her sister’s shoes had proven far harder. And far from feeling the serenity her sister must have felt when she’d taken her new name, Rose found the mantle, often, stifling. Still, she’d spent years mastering disguises, mannerisms, seemings, and illusions. And for the people at the Abbey, she maintained her sister’s outward calm and serenity. But here, now, kneeling on the cold stone floor of the Abbey, about to be given the rank of priestess in her own right, she only felt the loss of her twin more keenly.

Why aren’t you here?

The anguish in her heart, the drone of the chant—how had she ever thought she could find her sister again by seeking to follow in her footsteps?

After a few moments languishing in that despair, she lifted her head, straightened her shoulders, and resumed her place in the prayer with the others joined there to take their oaths in service to the Light.

I will keep trying, Wren. I will find you again, one day. I will.

((Probably a bit superficial, but I’ve had this idea lying around for a while and felt this the perfect prompt to pick it up again. There’s a whole backstory to Rose and Wren that details their days as twins–one a holy priestess, the other a rogue in service to Ravenholdt, and many missed opportunities for Rose to be closer to her sister. In the end, this is a strange way to try and bridge that gap–and a lie that may or may not turn out to be a good thing. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.

I hadn’t really realized the implications this could have with Shadowlands coming out, but now I’m thinking about those, too. Not sure if I’ll bring back Rose’s twin there or not, …but we’ll see!

I -really- love these prompts and am rather sad I hadn’t seen them until your message got pinned to the top of the forum. Having found them, though, I’m so happy I did. I’m loving reading all the other writers’ stories, too. So thank you for this! I’ll look forward to when you reprise your efforts, and I’ll take a look at the other prompts in the days and weeks to come–and maybe write a thing or two, too!))

2 Likes

“Lying? ne’er hud a kinch wi’ even telling th’ truth, nae a single body believes me anyway. Ah dinnae think thay truly ken th’ wurds that come fae mah geggy. A’m speaking plain common tae ye a’, a bawherr dwarven accent ne’er hurt a fly. Sae tae answer thae questions ah ne’er wantit tae lie, ainlie a few fowk seem tae ken whit a’m saying anyway!“

“the ainlie biggest got somehin lie a’m currently caught up in is th’ fact ah hud th’ jab o’ guarding mah deid kin. Ah watch ower th’ graves o’ th’ fallen dwarves afore me ‘n’ in exchange ah git access tae th’ legendary weapons thae dwarves wance held in thair bides! that wis ‘til th’ day some gallus wildhammer cam alang wi’ his son. Thay stole th’ mighty forge hammer fae deep wi`in th’ tombs, ah wis sent tae track thaim doon bit thay proved damn dead hard ‘n’ seemed tae vanish intae malinky air! by th’ time ah made it back tae mah hame ‘n’ charge some black dragon rampaged aboot destroying sae muckle ‘n’ nearly killing th’ rest o’ mah fowk! noo wi’ sae muckle upheaved th’ clan knew ah wis th’ toughest dwarf fur th’ jab, thay wid rebuild th’ tombs ‘n’ seal thaim aff tae prevent sic a thing fae happening again.”

“‘twas up tae me tae slay this black drake, fae her death ah wid mak’ a legendary weapon tae further hunt doon th’ thieves o’ th’ tomb! ah hud tae reclaim mah lost honor by retrieving th’ micht forge hammer! bit th’ biggest twist o’ a’, ah git th’ slightest feeling thay weren’t wildhammer at a’!! ah think mah clan wis caught in th’ cross fire atween some black dragon fowk rammy!!“

2 Likes