A Tale of One City Writing Contest - Win Prizes!
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Joined: 09 Aug 2011
|Posted: 15 Dec 2011 at 15:15|
Joined: 08 Aug 2011
|Posted: 16 Dec 2011 at 01:29|
Not all Orcs are evil. Most are just misguided or work for an evil master.
You could say, i was once an evil Orc.
I lived under the control of the War-King of Blood Reavers, Tlachcog. during the 23 years i served him, i never questioned his orders. that is, until the 24th year. he told us he made a deal with members of circle of five, to help with some sort of 'Portal'. i had know idea what the details were, just that i must obey. my first task, was moving some 'artifacts'. as usual, i did my best to follow my orders. but, when i was moving the last crate, i tripped and fell, causing the content of the box to fall out. Panicking, i attempted to put the relics back into the box. as my hand approached the first one, i noticed it to be a horned statue with bizarre runes carved into the side. i was about to grap it, but felt something...strange go through me. i was compelled to move away. so i did.
After the finished whipping me for disobedience, my second task began. "Find goat! Drain blood!" they barked at me. i should have enjoyed the task, but it seemed so...Wrong. killing without a purpose is wrong, even for a Orc. still, better than the whips, i told myself.
My 3rd task was not for my masters, for Tlachcog or The Reavers. we had finished construction of 'the gate'. i saw the 5 arch magi step near the gate (Faer Smyss of the Fey seemed reluctant to do so). after a half and hour of chanting words i could not understand, a bright blue light which grew larger every second appeared in the center of the gate.
Then, all hell broke loose.
Red creatures which resembled goblin with black knifes began swarming out of the portal. i shouted a call to arms for my fellow brother to fight them. we fought, killing many, but no matter how much we killed, they kept coming. i searched around for my leader, or even the magi. they had already fled, leaving us to die.
i fought my way to the gate, hoping to seal it. i began cutting the ropes which held it all together. before the late rope was cut, i gazed into the blue light. my gaze was met, by something i would rather not describe. its Red eyes haunt my nightmares even today. finally i cut the last rope. the whole gate tumbled down, leaving nothing but ruin.
Feeling triumphant, i turned to howl to my brothers.
Nothing was left. every where i looked i saw fallen friends. i was the only one spared.
I live on today, serving a new master. i have moved on. deep in the back of my mind thought i still have the memory of Him, The Evil One. as such, i have dedicated my life to making sure such a tragedy will never happen again
Joined: 16 Dec 2011
|Posted: 16 Dec 2011 at 18:15|
The Saddlemaker's Son
"Bertraaaaam!" Her voice echoed in the street from the window above, somehow more shrill than the squeaking axle of barrow he pushed, clattering over the cobblestone.
â€œYes, mother,â€ he half sighed, lowering the cart with a heavy thunk to turn and look up to her.
â€œAre you taking that order to the consulate, like your father asked?â€
The young Bertram turned his gaze from the matriarch gazing down on him to his burdened cart, and back, managing not to roll his eyes. â€œI was, mother!â€
â€œThatâ€™s a good lad! And donâ€™t dawdle with that girl from the watch. They say sheâ€™s a thief!â€
â€œNo, she catchesâ€¦â€
But his protest was cut short by the window clanking shut.
The whining and groaning of his cart mostly drowned out his indignant mumbling as he made his way down the street, until the voice from the alley halted his progress, again.
â€œâ€™That girl from the watchâ€™?â€ came the richly bemused, feminine tone.
He let the cart once again drop down to rest, coming to meet her arch-browed and smirking gaze with a sheepish shrug. â€œGretchen. Sorry. Sheâ€™s my mother. Iâ€™ll explain it to her,â€ he groaned plaintively, before adding, â€œAgain.â€
But the dark haired slip of a girl merely purred a smugly dubious, â€œMmmhmm,â€ before letting her playfully accusatory tone mercifully slip. â€œDonâ€™t fret. Nobody trusts a girl in my line of work. Well, except the lord who hired me.â€ She tipped her head over his shoulder to the cart behind him. â€œMore saddles to the consulate?â€
â€œYup. You people sure use a lot of them.â€
â€œYeah. Itâ€™s sort of a tradition. We issue a new horse and saddle to each recruit.â€
â€œI didnâ€™t think you had that many working for you?â€
â€œWe donâ€™t. We have a high turnover rate.â€
â€œAhhh. So, where are you off to?â€
â€œJust to fetch some beer for the lads at the consulate.â€
â€œOh, to the tavern?â€
â€œNo, the storehouse. We avoid the tavern whenever we can. When they know what you do, you canâ€™t go in there without getting sob stories. Between snooty elves and orc-hunters and incompetent nobles, it just gets tiresome.â€
â€œI can imagine.â€
But their conversation was cut short by a girlish giggle and shriek as Bertram barely stepped out of her way, being chased breathlessly by the determined looking, elderly but surprisingly spry farmer.
â€œI donâ€™t trust that man,â€ Gretchen commented in a hush after theyâ€™d passed. â€œThatâ€™s the third bride we found for him since spring.â€
Edited by Zel VonAzny - 16 Dec 2011 at 18:20
Joined: 16 Dec 2011
|Posted: 16 Dec 2011 at 21:22|
Our fair town of
Our benefactor has journeyed far and wide, seeing even other worlds, before settling in the Kingdom of the Illyriad. Once finding the place a much welcomed relief after the toils of other places where far too many games were played, she stopped for some respite. With the tiny settlement she started, the villagers and other subjects of the realm made her feel so welcomed that she felt reborn, hence the name of our fair town; Renaissance.
Of all the worlds seen by our Jenin, she says none can compare to the rule of King Sigurd, with his very well constructed rule of a very diverse domain. His brilliance is seen every day in his territory, where his general managers see to his subjects needs, make sure all have an equal opportunity and that all is running smooth. It is notable that many volunteers are inspired to welcome new immigrants to the country which will surely fuel yet more growth and even greater creativity.
All this said, some new settlements do fail though, due to the dismissal of their founders, but the resources are collected and are collected with celebration to support the lives of our own citizens. So, even though there are those who do not appreciate King Sigurd, there is still benefit in their giving this region a try. Our founder can not see what is not to love about a territory of this size, its diverse races, varied climates, beautiful flora, amazing fauna and the felicity of her residents.
Our townâ€™s architect looks forward to making yet more new settlements in different places and loves the most of the new features Illyrian civilization. Although our Jenin longs also for a nationwide judicial system, things such as the new developments in magic and the promise of more comprehensive trade have her waking excitedly to greet every day in the Great Kingdom of Illyria. Long live King Sigurd!
Joined: 05 Mar 2010
|Posted: 17 Dec 2011 at 00:32|
Also, never hit the back button. When a page load fails after posting data (be it a forum post or anything other than confirming a purchase) hit reload and confirm that you wish to re-send the data when your browser asks. Worst case scenario is you double-post, and have to delete the extra post.
"Apparently, quoting me is a 'thing' now."
Joined: 31 May 2011
|Posted: 17 Dec 2011 at 20:50|
The reports from scouts and spies about the city Valhalla had been very promising. Lord Wendel seemed to have vanished, and the city was there for the taking. I turned to lord Flipper for help with cleaning out the troops and he did, saying his troops were becoming restless and needed something to do.
My wall-breakers arrived a few days later and set up camp. The ballistas were still several days away. Along with the reports that the wall was coming down, I recieved some disturbing words that the town itself had vanished. It was confirmed when the mages of King Sigurd sent my wall-breakers home. My ballistas were still on their way to Valhalla, and I was certain they would find the spot empty and return home. Instead they reported they had arrived, set up camp, and started to hit the town. Frustrated, I sent word to the mages, asking for their help to return my ballistas, but this time, they didn't answer me. In the end, I called for a messenger. "Recall my ballistas," I told him. "Tell them there is bad magic in play, and they need to return at once."
"Yes, m'lady," the messenger said, took my letter and rode for his life.
He reached my troops and asked to speak to the commander.
"What is it?" commander Ageirr asked. "We are ready to take the town."
"Lady Berylla sends word that you have to return instantly. The city is gone, there is nothing to take."
"What are you talking about? I can see the city, we can all see the city. Can't you?"
"I can't trust my eyes," he said, "just what lady Berylla said."
"I will follow orders, of course," Ageirr said, and turned to the troops and told them to pack up.
It took a while to pack up the ballistas and break camp, but finally the troops were on their way home, feeling a bit cheated out of a victory. About a mile away from the town, Ageirr turned around to look at what he was leaving, and turned white as a sheet. The town was gone, completely gone. All he could see was a large pile of ballista-thrown boulders. He shuddered. Lady Berylla had been right. Dark magic was at play. "Hurry up!" he called to his troops. "This place is cursed!"
Joined: 07 Oct 2011
|Posted: 18 Dec 2011 at 04:22|
Disclaimer:This is just a piece of fiction....the facts have been twisted and turned upside down on the writer's discretion...any resemblance to any character/alliance dead/living is purely co-incidental
The land of Illyriad was home to many the Diplomatic Crowns,the Incapables,Free Unions and many more.
This story of Illyriad is a romantic fantasy about two lovers who belonged to rival alliances: the princess Azinomoto
of Loveless, and the prince Kazriel of Dollar alliance. Every one has shades of grey and so does here in Illyriad, we had AM GOD,
the leader of the Internal Bullions who dreamt of marrying Azinomoto and taking over the throne of Illyriad.
Silly Noodle the father of the princess is forced to believe by AM that Kazriel is behind the theft of his precious
roller skates.Thus Silly Noodles gathers his finest men and starts an epic battle against the Dollar alliance.
When AM GOD fails in his endeavor to impress Azinomoto he befriends Duna, the powerful neighboring queen
of Cries of Whales. He then coaxes Duna to befreind Azinomoto at any cost so as to enable her dream of entering
nupital bliss with the Loveless boss Silly Noodle.
Lonely Dude the exboyfriend of Duna gets enraged with this act from AM GOD and starts a holy war against AM GOD
little realising all his soldiers had ran away.With the recession hitting the markets the Dollar alliance begins to crumble.
Taking advantage of this Loveless their confeds mad Crowns,Dorks run through the Dollar alliance .
Seeing the Dollar crumble Azinomoto shuns her love and becomes closer to Scotty
and others. The love struck Kazreil leaves Illyriad in search of true love and the Dollar's wait a economic boom .
AM GOD though unable to take over the throne now catches hold of the lunatic Lonely Dude and thrashes him hard. Lonely Dude
unfazed by all this still roams the misted land in search for "one for all" weapon to destroy everyone including himself.
Who is the victor, who is the loser nobody knows ...as I said its just shades of grey...not WHITE or BLACK !!!
If you are still reading it...well warm hugs on going through this nonsense
Joined: 17 Nov 2011
|Posted: 18 Dec 2011 at 19:55|
The Tale of Auraya
Once upon a time, in a land called Tinterweb, an 8 year old girl was wandering. She was lost and alone, no-one knew her and everywhere she looked things were strange and confusing. She longed for a place to call home, with friendly faces and welcoming arms to snuggle in. Her name was Auraya. This is her story.
Auraya was a happy child by natural disposition. She set off exploring the troll-filled lands of Tinterweb with a smile on her face and a song in her heart but after many months, she found herself afraid. She was young, innocent and naive. People tried to take advantage by offering gifts - only to try and steal her time and money. Sad and scared, she stumbled across a happy land with quirky animals who were glad to be her pets. They expected nothing from her and Auraya thought this must be where she would settle.
All was well for 5 long and joyous years but tragedy struck! The King and Queen of HappyPetland retired, leaving their kingdom to a ruthless and greedy tyrant. This new King put extortionate taxes on many games and restrictions on the few things which were still available. These restrictions made it difficult for Auraya to socialise with her friends and she was sad once more. Bravely, little Auraya left her home and went out into the wide world of Tinterweb once more.
She was older and wiser this time. She did not fall for the tricks people tried but the search for a new home was tiring and there were many, many lands full of hatred and war. Auraya was not the warmongering type. She tried to survive in one such land, under constant threat of invasion and did surprisingly well for herself. All was not well though. This was not the life Auraya wanted for herself, surrounded by cruel and corrupt people. She set out once again, determined to find a place where she could live happily ever after.
She stopped to rest in an abandoned castle, in a land which looked similar to many she had traveled before. Whilst she was getting her things prepared to leave, a caravan pulled up outside. Auraya was surprised and asked the driver what he wanted. He replied that he brought welcome gifts from a neighbouring village then pointed to many caravans heading in her direction. She asked what was expected of her in return, to which he responded, "That you have a long and happy life in Illyria and show others the same kindness with which you have received."
Overwhelmed, Auraya thanked everyone for their generous gifts and in Illyria she remained, happily ever after.
This is probably ~500 words, so I'll edit it later when I have time - I just don't want to miss the deadline! It's just a silly little fairytale really but I had fun writing it (even the second time!)
Thanks Mule, that's actually something I should have thought of. Silly me! Alls well that ends well though.
Joined: 13 Dec 2011
|Posted: 18 Dec 2011 at 20:30|
Achillia of Atreanna picked her way carefully through the underbrush, striving with every step to keep quiet, and not draw attention to herself. The rangers had done their job well; the numbers of cyclopes was absolutely accurate. However, she needed to see the ground that they would fight on before launching the engagement, although her lieutenants had begged her not to go.
Besidesâ€¦ what would draw the scum this far away from home? The days of raiding tribes were past, the scholars said. She snorted. Well, the scholars arenâ€™t here, but we are. The cleansing culls had reduced their numbers. Clearly, not enough though.
She sighed. There had been rumours of dark rituals and beasts attacking to the north.
But not here. Not on my watch.
A grunt from one of the raiders drew her attention. He pointed in her direction.
Wellâ€¦ thatâ€™s not good.
Then he started gesturing wildly â€“ at her. He continued to gesture even after the first arrow left her bow. The arrow lodged in his throat, but she had already loosed two more â€“ one into him, the other into the Argeian next to him. The next two of the raiders both fell as well, though they raised primitive shields to block her,but her 5th arrow only seemed to wound her target, as she couldnâ€™t aim for anything vital. It was a much bigger one of them tooâ€¦ a Steropean. He yelled out to the camp.
Time to go.
And she ran. Unfortunately, it seemed as though the entire encampment was behind her. Their longer legs were going to make short work of any chaseâ€¦
she saw where she had to go. And it wasnâ€™t
really THAT farâ€¦
The Cyclopes broke out of the small woods surrounding the abandoned mill that they had been occupying, and sighted their elusive quarry. Climbing the hill quickly, Achillia took one last look behind her. The Cyclopes loped up the hill towards her. Putting her boot into it, she re-strung her bow, sighted in on the Steropean she had hit earlier, and put out his one eye with her first shot. The other Cyclopes flowed around his screeching body, as her arrows fell upon them, frothing at the mouth to get at the lone human woman that would do this to themâ€¦
They arrived just in time for the knights of Atreanna to crest the hill from their side, and charge into their ranks. The battle was over before it had even begun, though the cyclopes didnâ€™t know it â€“ their lack of wits prevented them from fleeing until it was too lateâ€¦ and thus, they were completely annihilated.
â€œCaptainâ€¦ are you well? You took a risk thereâ€¦â€ one of her lieutenants asked.
"Of course I am. And it was no riskâ€¦ I knew your rangers were watching me." she replied, with a wink.
The lieutenant just shook his head as she walked away.
Joined: 06 Jan 2011
|Posted: 19 Dec 2011 at 00:03|
"Who knows? Maybe you win? You can't know until you give it a try..." the voice woke him up, from the outside of the building. There are two dwarfs on the battlement down the lord's castle highest tower and they argue over a gamble one of them has got offered last night. Their voices turn quiet as they walk their way allong the castle's wall until they die away, but even so there was only this sentence he understood. He is still half asleep as he try to rise his head from his desk... again a long night over books and scrolls, which lie around like a heavy flurry blow through the window and tried to took them with him. As a welcome, only for him self, a little headache is twinge his forehead and as second guest his neck is greeting him with sore muscles. He lose a row of muted muttering how unpleased he is while he gets up from his chair and stretch his body and limbs, he feels so old like he was born befor the world's creation.
On his way to the lonely window in his chamber he kneads him self from the left shoulder till the neck, what let him moan softly until he stops when he leans forward on the ledge of the window to take a look of the landscape. What he beholds let him beam with joy, but he couldn't tell if anybody would ask him what exactly bring forth this feeling. Maybe it's the Mountain range which surround his place, he love the picture made by all the different shapes, the slopy edges which rise till their peaks like they try to scratch the sky it's selfs. Sometimes his eyes get caught by the valley which cut troughe the landscape like wandering snakes. There are fields with crops to paint the ground in yellow and gold and only be severed by green squares of grass and weed for the cattles and few horses. Or it is the town down the tower. A town covert in grey walls and dark blue roof tile behind the back of a huge fold at the border between valey and mountain. He is glad how the town was setup ... it could become guit warm here in the north of Turalia and each hour of cooling shadow is a pleasure. In the end he gets up with the same answer as always befor: it is the whole image what he likes so much.
After a couple of deep breaths he feels more refreshed and starts his way down the stair - it is time for breakfast and there should be some beer left from last night, not that beer could run out but is a good feeling to honour every weep of it. As he goes deeper and deeper following the stair he enter the great hall of the castle and walks straight across the big spaciously cave-like room. On his way he pass numerous pillars and small walls for decoration, a few of them show the work of chisels where dwarfs started to form sculpture out of the stone. He knows what they try to accomplish: when the work is done all sculpture will be merge together to one long picture story. He knows the story, which he want to see in stone for every dwarf to see, a story of creation of gods an heroes... worth to tell and hear by dwarfs.
He sighs as he leaves the great hall, there is much to do ... the story he wants to put in stone is still only in his head and need his way out of it, armies need to be trained, caravans send out for trade and construction plan need to be shared with the masons. "So much to do" he voice under one's breath as he quitly walks his way through his castle ... there is much to do for the Lord.
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