- Winners Circle -

hapax riding Silent Name, in 1st Place!

LaggedyAnne riding Cash Included, in 2nd Place!

in Third Place, we had a photo finish tie between

RPGeek, riding Day Pass and just1wheat, riding Balance.

Special nods of notice go out to the following riders: TheCustodian, riding Dreams of Thunder, for earning the most C!'s; oakling, riding Swap Flipparoo, for earning the highest goodness; and Jet-Poop, for modestly resigning his horse (King of the Roxy) from the cup for what he perceived to be an unfair advantage.

Prosenoder's Cup 2007 was a complete and utter success, thanks to the 53 wonderful noders who competed. The stories were strange and wonderful, covering a wild spectrum of tales. I devoured every writeup submitted, and cannot thank all of you enough for participating in this shy little contest.

Addendums and quid pro quos: in the spirit of posterity, I'd like for all writeups to remain within this node. If you'd like to expand your submission, and let it run free in its own pasture, please feel free - just asking that you leave the original text (or at least a link) here so that people can see the work. Which was all brilliant :-). Thank you all again, see you for Prosenoder's Cup 2011!

Where will your horse take you?

The Race Begins!

Please see Raz de Equites: An E2 Proseproduction for background information. Writeups are limited by design to 300 words or less.

Please also do not dv writeups based solely on E2's word counter. Copy the writeup to a word processing program with word counter if you must, otherwise we're working off the honour system here.

Spectators travel in caravan; afoot by bike or borrowed car. The morning sun has burnt off the prior night's dew and warms the children, so early awake. Ribbons fly from fine hats, flags wave from eager arms, songs erupt from the crowd without warning or often reason.

Further along the road the riders are making their final preparations in the stadium's stables. Their horses well fed and saddled, themselves well rested and decorated; anticipation of the day's event swells. As the riders unlatch stalls to greet their horses the air turns a shade of innocence; if you combined the feeling of falling into a dream with the memory of your first snowfall you ever saw... you know the feeling.

The stands fill as the starter calls the riders into place at the line. There are capes and streamers and hurrahs drifting through the air like stardust.

Hope hangs in the air thickly, a ground level cumulus. Doubt evaporates with the last of the morning mist. The riders advance their steeds, ready to push themselves.

It is time.