Plot Challenge: Feuding Villages

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Original poster
Invitation Status
  1. Not accepting invites at this time
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
10AM - 10PM Daily
Writing Levels
  1. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
Romance, Supernatural, Fantasy, Thriller, Space Exploration, Slice of Life

Plot challenges are designed to help you think quick and be inspired. We often play this game in the cbox, shouting out random words or phrases and see what ideas first pop in to people's heads.

To Participate: THINK FAST. Don't waste any time. The first idea(s) that comes to mind, write it down and post it!

NOTE: If you decide to borrow someone's concept for a roleplay, make sure you give credit.

Challenge Phrase
Feuding Villages
The Fire Village and the Stone Village had always been at peace until that day. The people of Fire found one of their virgins dead, and by a weapon of stone. Trouble was, no one from Stone village admitted to the crime. Now, war is declared, and the real culprit is still at large.
How thick does blood run? How fast does it take for blood to turn bad? Zealot knows this, he has spent his lifetime manipulating feuding villages. If Zealot knows everything about blood, can he possibly know about anything else?
For centuries, the two villages have fought. Their reasons were stupid, childish, greedy. At one time or another, both villages had almost met their end by the hands of the other. The elders want peace and it seems that only a marriage between the village leaders will suffice. But when one of the soon-to-be-married mysteriously disappears, tempers flare. The groom/bride must find their missing spouse in order to bring peace to the villages. *village leaders' daughter and son
A fueding village seems to be wives tales of oldstuffs, but even in this day and age, pride for one's home and stubborness to let past transgression go still make pigheads out of the most rational of us. And it all leads into tomorrow's high school football game between our town and their town, with me stuck in the middle as the head quarterback of our team. But what the town doesn't know is that I am really from the other town, sent to scout out for our team...But everything just is so different here, and I like it here... Now I don't know where my loyalities stand...
A village on earth and a village at sea. A fight that continued for decades, a fight that took many lives. For what? No one knows. It is a tale lost to time, but we know that the sea swallowed Atlantis whole. And now we give our fears to the ocean, for even without those mages to command it, it is still an unpredictable master to those that try to sail on it.
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Village feuds were a common occurrence, once upon a time. While nowadays it is nearly impossible to imagine one town taking up arms against another, in those days it happened on a monthly if not weekly basis. There was never much blood shed, nor any battles of great enough consequence that they should be remembered by history. The lesson I learned from living in the midst of such rampant hatred carried out through violence was one that remained with me years afterwards, shaping a hidden desire for widespread, truly lasting peace.
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He stole away in the dead of night to the neighboring village. He'd been told all his life that they were evil, uncivilized brutes with green hair and odd rituals that were damnable and otherworldly.It wasn't that he didn't believe the elders, it was just that he hadn't ever SEEN anyone with green hair. If the other village was completely populated with green haired heathens, he would have thought he'd have seen one by now, especially since he was one of the scouts and hunters for his village.

He crept silently through the forest that separated the two villages, with only the moonlight to guide him. Hearing a twig crack to his right he drew his dagger from its sheath and waited. He heard another, this time closer and he leaped out from his hiding spot and tackled them to the ground. He reared back ready to strike when the moonlight fell on the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. Alabaster skin and golden hair glistened as he quickly freed her. "Forgive me...Are you hurt?"

She was staring at him, just as blatantly as he was staring at her. "Oh...yes I am fine. I...are you from the village?"

"Red village?" he asked confused, "If you mean the one on the far side of this forest...then yes I am."

"Hmm...So you don't have red skin and purple hair with jagged claws and teeth."

He chuckled softly, "No..obviously not. And you do not have green hair."

She blinked, "Um no..."

He sighed, "So...our villages have been fighting forever over a lie? or twenty?"


"I KNEW IT...I am in these woods all the time. there is no way I would have missed a green haired heathen."

Her laughter was a beautiful trilling song to his ears. "I have often thought the same things. I come here to gather berries. I feel sure I would have noticed purple hair and red skin."

He laughed too then as he nodded his head. "I am Logan."


"I am very pleased to meet you, Reah. How can we put an end to this nonsense?"

" could come to my village and I can go to yours and prove that we are all the same. It would be a good start I think."

"Agreed. I will come with you now...if there would be someone to see me. And you can come with me in the morning." She led the way back to her village and he would see that no one had green hair at all. And she came back with him in the morning and she saw that there were no people with red skin and purple hair or sharp teeth. No one knows how the stories started or why, but they now live in peaceful cooperation.
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No one is quite sure why the village of Urn and the village of Sordt hate each other. Legend says that it started with a chili cook-off that went awry, causing the deaths of two villagers, a pig, and the demolition of Sordt's one good iron pot. Others tell the tale of two lovers whose families waged a small war, hiring the two villages to take on the task of destroying the other. And still, there those who tell the tale of a dragon that Urn had slain, only for villagers in Sordt claiming they actually took it down, and with one less arrow, as it were.

They have hated each other for so long, they have completely forgotten why. And a young, intrepid reporter from the capital is about to figure out the truth.
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