Short Story Contest #4 - Great War Stories

[RiotZ]

That part of the story highlighted by TwistedImage I didn't find to be written very well, but it's an alright story overall it needs work on grammar, and the quality of writing at this point.

 

[Grey Nightmare]

I did nothing to invoke a primitive hostile response, and yet that is exactly what I recieve. Trolls.

It wasn't hostile, if you found that offensive you really need to get out more... I was merely stating that no one cares how much you can write in a day, a week, a month or even a year, professionally or otherwise.

We are not trolls. Now 'that' - is a primitive, hostile response and an unprovoked one at that.

Just chill out...

 

[RiotZ]

You are indeed trolls... "a troll is someone who posts inflammatory or extraneous post in an online community such as a discussion forum" Do not provoke people, because every once in a while, the provoked will not be as calm as me, and will blow it totally out of proportion causing more problems than it's worth.

 

[Grey Nightmare]

I do love a hypocrite.

 

[The World Is Flat]

1. your response was not cool
2. we did not have intent to provoke
3. you posted the off topic message in the first place
4. that post you jsut made is offtopic and extrenuous
5. please refrain from responding.

I think that was my last version of my story, probably not even 3rd place material but w/e, writers block, sorry people

 

[TwistedImage]

writers block

This applies to me too. I'm stuck at 300ish words, that isn't much. I might get it done the next few days, but highly doubt it.

 

[The World Is Flat]

:\ happens even to the best of us.

 

[Ghoulrush]

It's finals week, and I'm going to have to drop out.

 

[Coolty44]

I have to drop, my english teacher thought dropping 2 essays on us would be a "Fun and enlightening experience".

 

[DeathDemon]

Rofl, I'll join! I hope I'll be able to write a 5000 word story in 4 days ^^
wait, so, do I email my story to you as a notepad? or do I just PM you it? or.. what?

 

[The World Is Flat]

You can no longer join.

 

[Vengeancekael]

Who wants me as a judge ? xD

 

[The World Is Flat]

Yaaaaay!

 

[Vengeancekael]

That was a question lol

 

[TwistedImage]

If you want to quit, I can step in - I consider myself qualified, and I just got over my writer's block - but I can't write a short story at 5000 words in one day.

 

[Vengeancekael]

I left 3 weeks ago as a judge, but mid hasn't updated the list yet xD Although i was thinking of coming back as a judge if people would want me to.

 

[TwistedImage]

O, if there's an open spot I'll go for judge too (no offence).

I forfeit, obviously.

 

[Grey Nightmare]

:O I better get typing!

 

[Tails96]

I have almost a page in, but that isn't a lot.

 

[dm251]

Might as well join in :3

 

[naitsirk]

Might as well join in :3

Join in? Its one day before stories shall be finished!

Ohh.. SNITZLE I NEED TO BE FINSIHED!
Edit: I forfit! I lost my story.......

 

[Tharkas]

I think I'm still in time... This is my complete short story, 2209 words. Thanks for reading it, I hope you enjoy it.

"The Clockbreaker"

"The inner mechanism of a clock is a system of incredible complexity where every part depends completely of the rest of the system. If one single gear breaks, the entire system crumbles and the clock fails. But, must a gear feel regret for the responsibility put on him? No, the gear must feel grateful, thankful that it has been given such a fate, for when the gear is forged from the metal and while it's being worked to fit with the rest of the clock, it has no more reason in the universe than its own existence. I'm a gear. I'm a servant that carry the responsibility for the continuity of the clock's motion. I carry the sins of the rest of the gears, and if I fail, the entire clock fails. You've battled hard until this day, you're stronger, you're transformed like the metal is transformed into a gear, and now that you're ready to fit into the clock, your reward awaits you behind this door. Feel honored, for soon you'll become gears, not only in flesh and bone but in soul too, and will hold the immense honor that I hold.”

-High Clockmaker Randius' speech to the new recruits of the Gears army at the main temple of planed Iridnia.

Jeremiah Thompson woke up. At first he felt strange and disoriented, but soon he realized where he was, and fear overwhelmed him. He was inside his EX-Armor, but it was shut down. As a war veteran, Jeremiah should have been able to walk at least one hundred meters carrying his complete armor without using its movement support systems but he couldn't feel his legs. He knew that he had a few bones broken, but he couldn't feel them thanks to the nano-machines of his bloodstream, which were in charge of healing both his internal and external injuries as of cutting his nerve connections acting as painkillers. He heard lots of stories like that: soldiers trapped into their armors without power, left to die of dehydration and starvation, or maybe boiled under the sun or drowned by the rising tide.
He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He focused his mind in the "Medium" implant of his neck, where he could feel the connections between his cerebellum and the EX-Armor. The link seemed to be intact. He couldn't remember what happened, but the same impact that shut off his armor must had stunned him as well, as he couldn't concentrate enough to establish the direct connection between his brain and the armor's main computer, an action that should be automatic at most after all the training and fights he survived with his armor.
“You're going to die”, echoed the voices of his past from the back of his mind, “You're going to die and reunite with us all in hell”. “I don't believe in any hell”, he answered, “And you're not even real. You're just my remorse trying to take over my mind and make me panic”. “You know that we are much more than that, you're a psychic, we are the hatred and fear you felt in our minds while you were killing us. You killed us.”, responded the voices. “You killed me, Jerry, don't dare to forget it”, resonated a female voice. He knew that if he kept talking to these voices he would slowly descend into madness, so he resorted to his psychic training and shut down his subconscious mind. With that, the voices stopped, but also did his emotions and his instincts, leaving a sea of pure logic. If he stayed in that state for too long, he would become a true psychopath unable to recover his old self, but it was just what he needed in that moment.
After a few tries, he managed to reactivate the life support systems of the armors, stopping the suffocation that he was starting to experiment and allowing him to breathe better. He could feel the fresh sensation of the filtered air crossing through his brain and he released his emotions. The fear was gone and so were the voices, both replaced by hope. With his mind clear he managed to turn on all the systems of the armor and slowly started to stand up despite his broken bones using the hydraulic movement system of the armor, and took his Gauss rifle and his three swords from the compartment of the nearly destroyed drop capsule that crashed him on the planet's surface.
As he started to explore his surroundings, he recognized them as one of the vast and desolated wastelands that covered most of the surface of planet Iridnia. Finally he managed to locate himself in the map and started to walk in the direction of the main temple of the Gears. While he advanced, his armor started to change its color from its natural crimson painting to a more discreet gray that fitted better with Iridnia's environment.

After a few hours, Jeremiah finally arrived at the valley in whose center was the main temple of the planet, the most important building for the Gears in all the universe, as it was the neuralgic top of the Gears' organization, where all the decisions where made and where all the new recruits were took for their initiation.
His mission was supposed to be an infiltration and assassination mission, but for his surprise, the temple was completely unguarded. The corridors of the building were impressive, over-elaborately decorated with motives of gears and other clock pieces. From the moment he entered the temple, Jeremiah felt a strong psychic presence, and he followed it through the corridors until he arrived to a great hall with two immense gates, decorated with a white and a black clock respectively, and a balcony on top of them.
Cautiously, he approached the gate with the white decoration, opened it and rapidly crossed it. The hall at the other side was even bigger and circular. In the opposite side of the room was a robed and hooded figure that he instantaneously identified as Randius, the High Clockmaker of the Gears and thus the organization's leader, and the owner of the psychic power that Jeremiah felt since he entered the building. The clockmaker was sitting on a throne with more gear motives.

-Welcome to the temple of Iridnia -greeted Randius.
-High Clockmaker Randius from the Gears, I've been contracted by the Aeon to execute you for your crimes -answered Jeremiah.
-I know why you are here, mercenary, and I also know much more about you that you can imagine. You won't be able to kill me, I assure you that, so why don't you hear me instead? Maybe I could convince you to change your mind and give a true meaning to your life.
-My life have all the meaning it needs, clock-nerd.
-Oh, is that so? Let me check. "Windwalker", an artificial human created via bio-engineering. You betrayed the Neo-Terran government that created you and the rest of your kind and killed most of your brethren during that betrayal, counting between them the woman you loved. After that you disappeared, but some years later you were recruited by the army of the Utopian system's government, who gave you your current name, Jeremiah Thompson. You failed to protect the Utopians as you failed to protect your brothers and sisters during the Neo-Terran civil war. Currently, you're a mercenary with a ship that can't even make intra-system warps and you accept any job offered, specially suicide missions like this one. Am I wrong anywhere this far?
-How do you know all that? -asked furiously the mercenary-. Who the hell are you?
-As I said, I know about you much more that you can imagine. About your skills, as "Windwalker" you were known as one of the most powerful psychics of the universe. That nickname was given to you for your super-human agility and your unique skill, an unknown attack with swords that have killed every single enemy that have suffered it. Also, you invented the "exterminatus" fighting style, a sword technique that uses three swords to create a constant movement of carnage between big groups of enemies. An impressive curriculum, I would be scared.
-And now you will tell me why you aren't, don't you?
-Oh, there are two reasons. The first one is that I firmly believe that I can make you see the truth and join me.
-And how do you intend to make me change my mind and join your crazy crusade of fanaticism?
-It's simple, just look at the ceiling of this room. Don't worry, I won't move from here or try anything weird, I promise over The Clock.

Jeremiah did as the clock maker asked him and raised his head. The ceiling was a giant dome, and in the center of it, there was floating...

-What is that? -asked the mercenary.
-It's beautiful, isn't it?
-What is it? -he asked again.
-You're a psychic like me, so you already know what it is. You have known it from the moment you put your eyes on it.
-No... that's impossible... Such thing doesn't exist. It can't.
-But it does exist. I call it "The Clock". You know, when the new recruits are ready to become gears, that's true soldiers of the organization, they're took to this room and they contemplate "The Clock". Their weak minds crumble. Some of them goes crazy or suicide themselves, but most of them just become malleable fanatics, useful as soldiers to conquer more worlds in the name of the clock and spread its truth. But we are different. We have the mental power to withstand it. You can hear its will like I do, don't you?

Jeremiah looked away from the object floating in the dome and observed Randius. He seemed to be a young man, but the mercenary could feel that he was more than four hundred years old. For the first time since he entered the room, he noticed the clockmaker's eyes and started laughing. That infuriated Randius.

-What are you laughing about!? -He demanded to know. Jeremiah stopped laughing.
-About you, self-called clockmaker. Can't you see it? -answered the mercenary, enraging Randius even more.
-What? What do you mean!?
-I mean that you're not different from any of those fanatics you mentioned before. The object that you call "The clock" is inanimate, it has no will except for the one that you imagine in your mind. I find it hilarious. A man finds something as incredible as this and goes mad. A year after that, the universe is immersed in its greatest known war. Everything just for the weakness of a man's mind.

The silence invaded the room as Jeremiah ceased to speak. After a few seconds, Randius took the word.

-Well. I see that you can't hear the clock's will as I expected. I'll have to eliminate you.
-Sorry -answered Jeremiah-, but you're already dead.

This time, Randius was the one to start laughing.

-Fool, as I said before, I don't fear you due to two reasons. The second one is that I know how to prevent you secret "windwalker" skill from working on me.
-Oh, is that so? I don't think that's true.
-Belive it. I discovered your weakness. You never used your secret skill inside a star ship. You can't use your skill without the presence of gravity or the electromagnetic field of a planet. Around this throne there's deployed a shield that will prevent your Gauss rounds, your swords or your pyroquinesis from hurting me, and an anti-gravitational and electromagnetic field that will prevent you from using your secret skill near it. I win, "Windwalker".
-Ha, ha, ha -laughed the mercenary-. You're too young and naive, Randius. The true reason behind me never using my... "secret skill", as you call it, in zero gravity is because there's no need for it in the narrow corridors of a star ship. When I said that you're already dead, I meant it literally. Look under your robes.

Randius' face changed as he ripped his robes' chest and discovered a sword wound piercing through his chest. He couldn't feel his own pulse.

-How is this... even possible? -asked the clockmaker, perplexed.
-I'm a professional. Do you really think I would start talking with my target? I used my skill the moment I entered the room and recognized you. Since then I've been talking with the psychic residue inside your body.
-But... but the clock... its will...
-As I said, its power just affected your mind. It has no will at all. Rest in pace, as I will take care of it from now on. Don't worry. You don't even know what it really is, but I'll be able to do with it what it was created to do.
-What are you planning? You can't... no, you mustn't... you mustn't try to handle its power... it would consume you... and half of the universe... with you... -mumbled the clockmaker as his psychic residue started to dissipate, leaving just a corpse.

Jeremiah walked to the center of the room and raised his hand to the object floating over him.

-Come to me, father -he said-, and we'll finally fulfill our destiny.

 

[Tails96]

Ok, I give up. Last weekend and yesterday I wasn't at home, today I have no time for writing. WIP:View attachment WIP nr.doc

 

[TwistedImage]

TWENTY MEN ENTER

TEN DIE ON THE WAY

ONE MAN LEAVES

This is how the short story contests work.

 

[lateris]

Ok so i finished my story, but after reading it i dont like it. Its boring, because i think it lacks action. At least now i learned that if i write a story, no matter how long i should write it in one day, since the other day i lose my track of thoughts. Anyway, because i dont want all that time writing go to waste here is my entry(4768 words long):

The Endless War

The Endless War

The sun was setting. The sky was red like the dying flame. There were some clouds in the sky, but they were very strange. Some times a lightning ragged down from them, sometimes rain started falling, and then suddenly stopped. Once in a while a meteor pierced through them, leaving holes.
Beneath the clouds, in the air, armies of flying creatures were biting, scratching, spiting fire and trying to kill any way they could. Blood was showering onto the ground, where another battle was going on. Two armies – an army of humans and a three times bigger army of bloodthirsty creatures. Though the human army was smaller, they were not going to give up. They were trying to fight their way to a big castle that the creatures were protecting.
In front of the human army stood their leader – a tall man, whose face wasn’t visible because of his helm that had two wings on both sides. His armor was grey, and he had a sword, that wasn’t very long, but its blade was very wide. All the creatures who stood in his way died.
It looked like the humans could win, because they had mages a lot stronger that the ones the monsters had. Until suddenly, the castle gates opened, and out of it marched more of the bloodthirsty beasts. A human shouted in desperation, when he saw that. Their leader looked at the gates that were still opened and took out a little hourglass from his backpack. When he turned it around, and sand started to shift, time has stopped, and the only one who could still move was the man who held the hourglass.
He rushed to the castle gate and ran into the castle. A few moments later, the sand in the hourglass ran out and time started flowing again. When that happened the hourglass broke and fell down. The glass remained, but the sand has disappeared. The warrior rushed through the hallway, then up the stone stairs, until he reached a steel door.
He raised his sword and hit the door. He repeated that a few times, and then kicked it out. The folded steel door flew into the room beyond. The leader of the human army walked into the room.
It was a spacious room, with walls made out of black marble. A black carpet went through it to a black throne, made out of a strange material. In front of the throne stood a man, who looked similar to the human leader, but his armor was black, and he didn’t have a helm, but instead, he had a hood. The hood covered his face, only his mouth was visible. He had grey as stone skin, and a narrow smile. The dark king’s weapon was a scepter with spikes, so it could be used as a flail. The human warrior let his sword down and then said:
- You can still stop… - The black king stopped the warrior in the middle of his sentence, and then in a withered tired voice said:
- It’s too late for me, you know that, so why do you even offer it? Lets just finish this, both of us can’t live. - After that he ran towards the human captain with his scepter-weapon raised. The warrior took a battle stance and waited.
Then the fight began. Both of them were fighting with all their inhuman speed and strength. Both of them used magic, and other skills that made the whole castle shake. When they couldn’t use another spell, the warrior raised his sword and tried to kill the king in a mortal blow, but the king hit the sword from a side with his scepter, and the sword broke into two halves. A spike from the scepter also fell down.
The black king laughed and raised his scepter in a final attack, but the warrior grabbed the spike from the ground and tried to stab the king. It was too late. The mighty captain fell on the floor, almost dead. He survived, because he moved away enough, so the blow wouldn’t be deadly. The black king slowly approached, like the grim Death.
The warrior rose with his remaining strength. His both sword and armor were shattered. He dropped the helm that was now useless. His face was quite young, but his expression was like an old mans, who is tired from life. Warrior’s eye color was white, but not like his eyeballs. His hair was brown, it was quite long, but didn’t reach his shoulders. In his hand, the human captain was still holding a spike from the scepter.
With a roar he rushed towards the black king, who laughed. Captain raised the spike, like a knife, while the king raised his scepter. When the warrior reached the king, the black king landed his weapon, but not fast enough, because the warrior had already stabbed him with the spike. Then both of them fell to the floor.
The king died instantly, because the spike struck him into the hearth. The warrior fell down still alive, but without hope to survive, since he was bleeding too much, and because he was mortally wounded. Before his death, a soldier rushed into the throne room, but he couldn’t help the great warrior. The captain looked sad, but relieved before death. He gave the soldier some kind of an orb, and then, died.
A sad smile appeared in the soldiers face.
- We won. Rest in peace, captain. – He whispered. Then stood up and looked at the strange orb he was given. It was white, with grey and silver hanks of mist surrounding it. On the surface of the orb strange images appeared and disappeared once in a while. It was like nothing Genlin(that was the soldiers name) ever seen. Genlin, by the way, was tall, had dark brown hair. He was also slim, his skin was pale.
The soldier put the orb into his backpack and then left the throne room. The castle was quiet, because once the dark king died, a lot of creatures who were summoned by his power now disappeared. The ones who weren’t summoned by the king fled.
The soldier walked out of the castle, and then shouted loudly to the remaining human soldiers:
- We won! – With those words the soldiers started loudly praising their captain, without whom they would have all died. A few moments later it was quiet, since all the warriors were searching with their eyes, where is the captain? Then they understood, from a sad expression on Genlins face. A whisper rushed through the soldiers:
- Dead… It can’t be… How?… He’s dead… - Silence, like a grey sheet fell onto the soldiers. After some time, Genlin spoke:
- He died after his greatest victory, after fulfilling the goal of his life. So do not pity him. – Soldier listened quietly. Then, after some time they prepared a camp for the night.
In the evening, when everyone, except those, who had to stand guard, were asleep, Genlin was sitting in his tent. He was studying the orb that he was given, but, since it didn’t look like it was going to give up its secrets, the soldier decided to try finding out what it is tomorrow.
When he fell asleep, he had very strange dreams.
…A little, ten years old brown haired boy, walking through the forest, picking berries. His eyes were white, he looked happy. The boy turned around and saw smoke coming from his village. He rushed to it as fast as he could, dropping the berries, fearing for the worst…
…The same boy, sitting nearby a corpse of a burned woman, in a ruined, empty village. She was his mother. The boy didn’t cry. He never did. Then he stood up and walked further into the village, where he saw footprints of a huge beast. There he saw his father, at least his upper half, since he was ripped into two pieces. He was dead, with a sword and a shield in his hands, and remains of armor on his body. Neither the shield, nor the armor helped from whatever he was fighting. The boy understood – this was a job of a dragon. Suddenly, he heard wolves howling. He picked up his fathers sword, though he could hardly lift it. Then understood that it won’t help. He dropped the sword and ran. Ran far away from this place, from everything…
…The same, just a little bit older boy, in a city. Now he’s about 12 years old. He is juggling knives, just like his savior and patron – a mad jester taught him to. There was a basket in from of him, where someone once in a while threw a coin…
…The same… No, not a boy, but a teenager, about 15 years old. Now he is in a hunt. He has some knives and sword case with a sword tied to his belt. In his hand there’s a bow and an arrow. On his back there are more arrows, an axe and a longsword. He is ridding a horse. The young hunter is chasing a… Dragon! The huge beast haven’t notice the little hunter yet. The boy put and arrow into his bow, aimed and launched it at the dragon. The beast howled in rage, that someone dares to attack him. He set the nearby trees on flame. The rider didn’t stop, he chased the dragon through the burning forest. Finally, after a long chase the dragon landed. It howled and then breathed fire on the boy. The little hunter jumped aside, and then fire didn’t hurt him. He launched another arrow, straight into the dragons eye. Now the creature was really furious. He stood up on two legs and then tried to catch the rider with his claws, though, without success. The battle continued. After the boy used his all weapons, except the longsword and his knives, the dragon finally caught him – he ripped the horse in pieces. The boy was launched into the air, and the dragon tried to snatch him with his terrible jaws. He almost succeeded, but the boy used his longsword to stab the dragon through the mouth. The longsword was stuck inside the dragons mouth. The beast howled in rage, the whole forest shook. The little hunter, instead of getting eaten fell onto the ground, where because of the impact, he lost consciousness, though, the dragon was still alive…
Genlin woke up. The dreams were strange, and he kept guessing, if those visions were stories of his captains past, or maybe some kind of a hidden message. He told no one about it. Half of the day, soldiers were preparing to move back. They decided to take as many goods from the castle as they needed. They needed food mostly, because their families were left with little supplies of it. For the next half of the day they travelled. At the end of the next day they have set a camp again. Genlin didn’t have such strange dreams that night. After a few days of traveling, they reached a forest. They doubled the number of guards, because it wasn’t safe in this forest.
Genlin was on watch. He looked at the dark trees and the spirits between them. He knew those spirits wouldn’t come near the fire, so he wasn’t afraid of them. Even if they did come closer, there wasn’t much that they could do. The creatures that the soldiers were afraid of were the great cats. They usually hunt in small packs, or alone. But sometimes a big pack comes together, then they might even attack the soldiers. Also the remaining forces of the dark king, though they were scattered, they might still try to gather and ambush them.
At the first hours of the watch nothing interesting happened. But a few hours after midnight, a strange, a lot brighter than others spirit appeared. Other spirits moved away from it, like they move away from fire. It was strange, because there are only a few spirits like this, and they don’t walk in such places like this – where masses of weak, dull, withered spirits gather. Genlin took out his sword and then came a little bit closer to the spirit. It reminded him of someone. “Could it be?” He thought. Ignoring the dangers of the woods, Genlin followed the spirit, who led him deeper into the woods. When it reached a clearing the spirit disappeared. Genlin looked around the clearing. There was an old hut and something that looked like it once was a garden. Genlin walked into the hunt. The orb glowed and he saw another of his dreams/visions.
…A boy of 15 years old lying in the bed. An old man is standing next to him. The boys head is bandaged. Near the bed, on the floor there’s a longsword and a knife, with a jesters symbol on it…
…The same boy, now about 17 years old. This time, in the same room, the boy is reading a book, and the old man is lying in the bed. He looks ill. The boy once in a while brings the old man tea and medicine, also talk with him a bit…
… The same boy, now in the garden, where there used to be carrots, cabbages and other plants used for food. The old man always said, that for him, the prettiest plants are the ones that are most useful. The boy is holding a shovel. He looks sad. In a hole, near the boys’ feat the old man is lying. Now he is cold and dead. The boy used the magic that he was taught by the old wizard to create a gravestone. He dug the grave himself, because his master always said “don’t use magic where you don’t have to, or where the result with or without magic will be the same”. The gravestone was carved with ancient runes. The apprentice started burying the hole…
Genlin woke up. The orb wasn’t glowing anymore. He walked out of the hut, and was relieved to see, that there are no dangerous creatures here. He walked back to camp. When he returned he found the camp empty and cold. There were a few graves and a goblins head on a stick in the middle of the camp. Genlin quickly understood, that there was a battle, and that his allies left afraid of another attack. He did not panic. The soldier found the footprints of his friends and followed them.
After a while he finnaly reached them. They were surprised to see him, since everyone thought that he was killed and fell down somewhere in the bushes, where no one could find him. Genlin told them, that before the battle he wandered into the woods. He didn’t speak of the hunt, the orb and the vision. They traveled the whole day, and a bit in the night.
Soldiers woke up early and continued on their road. They walked out of the forest by the evening. Finally, before the nightfall they reached a city. No one lived here, because it was destroyed by the fire, but travelers always stayed in these ruins, since it was safe there from wild animals, and there was a tavern. It was the only building that was still standing and working.
The soldiers set a camp in the city centre. There was a fountain, but without water here. Genlin went to sleep.
…A young man standing in the city centre – the same city where he met the crazy jester. He has white eyes. He is looking around – searching with his eyes in the crowd, for a woman, that should hire him for a job. He was told about her by his only friend. The only person he trusted, trusted with his life. A woman comes out of the crowd and walks to him. A smile appears on the mans face. The woman is middle-height, purple haired, she is wearing black robes. She is young. She is a witch, though not an evil one. She smiles back to the man, and they start talking. Two eyes are looking at them jealously from the crowd. The man with white eyes and the witch walk away…
…The same man with white eyes, with the same witch. The witch is now dressed in white. And they are both in a church. The man smiles at the woman. It is the first time after his village was destroyed, that he is in peace. She smiles back. And they walk to the altar. There they give each other something. The man gives the woman a dagger, with a symbol of jester on it. It saved his life many times. The dagger was a lot more precious to him than a pile of gold. It was also enchanted with who knows how many spells by the mad jester. The witch takes the dagger, and gives the man a little hourglass, which is her most precious thing, she got it from her mother, who got it from hers and so on. None of the witches in her family gave it or showed it to anyone, not even their husbands. The only time they show it to anyone is before death, when they give it to their daughters. Now she gave it to him…
Visions disappeared. Genlin woke up. It was early in the morning when the soldiers were ready. They left the city and traveled north. Half of the road was now passed. They traveled the rest of the road without any events. When they reached the crossroad, everyone went to their own villages. Before that, the soldiers decided that they will meet at the grand village, as it was called. There they will decide how to repair the damage caused by the dark king, what to do next, and pick a king. Genlin went back to his village. He didn’t have a family. His family was of nobles. All of his brothers and sister traveled away and live in comfort. Only Genlin didn’t do that, he decided to become what his father once was – a warrior. His both father and mother were dead, he didn’t have a wife, his other relatives didn’t want to speak to him, because he was only a soldier.
Genlin layed down into his bed and finnaly felt happy and calm. The sleep in the camp, where you have to be avare of various creatures, and use your backpack as a pillow can’t be even compared to sleep at home, in your own bed. Genlin soon fell asleep. He had strange visions again.
…The man with white eyes lives in a wooden house, in the middle of the forest, with the witch. They are happy. The man is now about 21 years old, the witch looks the same, though she might be a few decades, or maybe even centuries older…
…The man is in the forest, hunting. Now it’s a lot easier, because he can kill a bear with his bare hands (though he is slim and doesn’t look very strong), and by using magic and weapons it’s not hard to kill even a dragon for him. The man is carrying a boar on his shoulders. He is walking home. Then he sees a smoke. He drops the boar, and just like when he was a kid, he rushes to his home, fearing for the worst. He found it burned. He walks through the ruins, just like when he was a little boy, feeling as helpless as he was then. He drops on his knees before a burned corpse. This was his wife. She was his reason of being, his life. He looks at a little hourglass. It’s the only thing that will remind him of her. The only thing, that will help him keep sanity while looking at the corpse, because it will remind him of her love, because there’s a little bit of her essence in it(every witch that had this hourglass used some of her magic to create a single grain of sand). Then he saw his dagger with a clown. The dagger he gave her. She wasn’t fast enough to reach it. It would have saved her. He took the dagger. The little jesters, who was drawn on the handle, eyes began to glow and around him the man saw illusions, that showed what happened. A man with black armor kicks the large wooden door. The door breaks. A woman comes to see what happened. She launches a few bolts of magic at the man, but with no avail. The man just laughs and raises his hand. A huge infernal fire grasps the house; the woman is trying to reach for the dagger with a jester on it, but the infernal flames catch her, and she is dead a few seconds later. After a minute the whole house is no more. The man with black armor walks out of the ruins of the house. The infernal flames have done nothing to him. The illusions disappear. The man with white eyes is surprised – how powerful was the jester who saved him, if he could make something like this? Then he remembers the man with black armor. He knows who the man is. He will have to prepare. Finally the man leaves the ruins…
…A man about 30 years old, with white eyes comes to Genlins village. He has grey armor. It was white once, but now it turned grey. This is one of the few villages that have libraries. He walks to the library because he has a theory. The man is hoping that he is wrong, but has to make sure. At the library the warrior finds a book without a name or author, a book that came here by accident. In the past armies fought for it. Now it was forgotten and left in a library at the village. No one can read it, because it is written in an ancient language. But the warrior takes the book and starts reading it. When done he put it back into the bookshelf. The theory is correct. He discovered that war can never be stopped. Its reasons change, the armies change, but war always exists. Even if the good wins, sooner or later war will come again. He understood that. Then thought that it is worth fighting, and trying to bring brighter future at least for some time. Now a huge war was ragging. His once best friend, whom he trusted with his life, killed his wife, burned his home and now he killed the king and took his place. Almost no one served him. Most of his servants and soldiers left. Then he summoned various creatures who hated humans to help him. Those were demons, goblins, necromancers and a lot of other evil creatures. White-eyed man stood up and left the library. He was now determined to rally everyone, before the king gathered enough warriors to take rule…
Then he saw a vision. He saw the vision, of their battle. He saw how his captain sacrificed the only thing reminding him of his love. The great warrior knew he will soon die and meet his love. He knew, that if he survived, he would have went mad, without a goal in his life.
Genlin woke up. The visions this time were very confusing. He didn’t see what his captain had been doing for about 8-9 years, so some parts were hard to understand. Then he thought about the war that can be stopped only for a short time.
- I have to stop it forever – He said loudly. Then he thought ways of doing that. The soldier remembered the mad jester from his visions. It was the strangest and most powerful creature he had seen. Maybe he could help. But Genlin didn’t have an idea where to find him. Then thought about anyone else he had ever heard about, who could help. The most powerful and wise man he could remember was a necromancer, who lived in the woods. Though that necromancer never used his powers of raising dead anymore, he was still avoided and feared by everyone. The necromancer helped people a lot of times before, but sometimes he done the opposite. Genlin thought, that he will take the risk, if only it might help stopping the war forever. He knew he had to finish his captains work. That was because of the same reason why Genlin became a soldier. That is because he wanted to help bring justice and happiness, and to eliminate horror and pain. Genlin lived not for himself, but for others, and that was another thing that separated Genlin from the rest of his family. The orb started glowing more than ever before. The soldier jumped in the bed and almost hit his head into the ceiling. The orb flashed and disappeared.
Genlin prepared for the journey. He took his armor and sword – just in case. Then went out of the village, into the woods. Finally he reached the necromancers hut. Just when the soldier raised his hand to knock on the door, the necromancer shouted from somewhere inside the hut:
- What do you want?! – Genlin let down his hand, then answered:
- I come here seeking knowledge and advice – After those words it was quiet for a few minutes. Then the door opened, and an old man with a robe came out.
- What kind of knowledge do you seek, and for what reason? – Asked the old man. Genlin answered:
- I want to know, how to end all wars once and forever. – The old man laughed.
- That is impossible. You can extend the duration of peace, but you can never make it last forever. – Genlin thought.
- Tell me then, how to extend the duration of peace for as long as I can? – The necromancer thought for a long time. Then said:
- There are a few ways. First, you might create a document, which will make people hold peace, but that wont work for long. Another way, that lasts longer is to keep peace by force. You just make a lot of laws that don’t give people a chance to start fighting, and make severe punishments for breaking the law, but that is a bad way and it doesn’t last long. Another way is… - Genlin interrupted him.
- What if there would be someone who would always keep peace? – The necromancer stopped. Then said.
- You are talking about a peacekeeper .That is one of the ways, how to keep peace for the longest time. Though, the peacekeeper always fails to keep peace eventually. Sometimes he is killed or captured. Sometimes he just loses hope and stops trying to prevent wars. Sometimes people simply don’t listen to him. – Genlin was excited.
- But if a peacekeeper wouldn’t fail in his duty, peace could be eternal? – The old man looked at Genlin for some time. Then slowly said.
- Theoretically yes, but in reality – no. You could become a peacekeeper. I can see you have what it takes to be one. There was an ancient order of peacekeepers. I was one of them, until I lost hope and became a hermit necromancer. Come. – The necromancer took Genlin into his hut. On the table there was a bracelet. A bracelet with a symbol - star, on the star there was a single wing with white feathers. Necromancer explained.
- That is the symbol of peacekeepers. If you want to become a peacekeeper, you will have to be tested. And then you will have to be train. I will be your trainer. First I will give you the proper armor and train you, and then I will reveal you the secret of eternal life, so like all peacekeeper you could keep peace for as long as you can – The necromancer gave him a different armor with the same symbol as on the bracelet, then a sword and a bow. Genlin smiled – after he will finish his training he will prevent any wars, forever. His captain laid foundations to it, now it will be finished. He will end wars forever! He went outside eager to start training, not knowing, how wrong he is thinking that he will be able to stop wars forever.

P.S. I didnt have enough time to fix mistakes.

 

[TwistedImage]

Actually, you're probably winning, since you seem to be the only one able to finish the story. >_>

 

[Tharkas]

Hey, I finished it too.
Btw, I forgot: Good look to all the contestants.

 

[Grey Nightmare]

Just finishing mine now actually, it'll be up in a couple of hours and TWIF has finished his (currently 'fine tuning')... Not sure about anyone else.

EDIT: Ok it's done, it's a very, very unusual writing style for me and swaps scenes very, very quickly at some points - though it should click if you pick up on all the little details, just make sure you read it thoroughly, skim reading this will leave you saying "What the fuck?".

This is also my first ever sci-fi, I've wrote before but only ever fantasy - I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it, it should be a good light, laugh if nothing else, I tried to focus on humour more than anything else.

EXTRA INFORMATION: It is about a war between Orcs & Goblins in a sci-fi world/planet I created known as 'Vereswell''

There is minor language and sexual reference. -> The story is 4,820 words long.

Just Like Old Times (Final Submission)

Abbreviation Note: *Virtual Communication System

It was a glorious day in Vereswell, golden blades of sunlight pierced through the forest’s canopy shield, filling its many denizens with energy and vigour. The great trees towered over the many inhabitants, casting a protective shade across the lush, vibrant undergrowth, through which a variety of brightly coloured insects scuttled and squirmed. The shrill squawks and calls of the many tropical birds could be heard upon the wind, in stark contrast to the chattering apes as they swung through the canopy layer, upon twines of vine, as old as the forest itself. All seemed peaceful and harmonious, but just like anything in this world... it couldn’t last.

Deep within the forest, laid a temple crafted by the elves in the days of peace, before the creation of the others. In a time when the planet’s forests stood not only tall and proud, but far and wide, in a time long gone. The weathered dome roof had collapsed in some places, where the millennia old enchantments had finally given way to the forces of nature. Moss and ivy had already begun its slow advance, having reclaimed the stained marble steps and rotten doors, bound in rusted iron. A stagnant pool lay in the middle of temple, opposite the doors, its inscriptions now illegible even to those who spoke the tongue. The water was green, stained by the falling spores and lichen from the great behemoths above, many leaves floated upon the surface, dead and discoloured.
Jicup stood in deep thought, staring at the fountain, “You know, it kind of reminds of back home...”.
“What that cesspool?” retorted Chuck.
“Well, the temple as a whole” replied the orc, cracking his thick neck on either side as he turned to face his old friend.
He continued, beady eyes drifting up towards the gaping holes above,
“A magnificent place, at some point in time, but now ruined beyond repair, just an echo of its former self...”.
“Deep words, for one of our kind”, chuckled Brutus his abnormally flat face splitting into a wide grin.
“Well... perhaps for you Brutus”, muttered another orc, standing with his back against the far wall.
“Oi! Watch it short arse, all I’ll be shaving that pretty head o’ yours” grumbled Brutus.
The short orc raised an eyebrow.
“Touched a soft spot have we?”.
“That’s enough Tale, Brutus, we’ve got bigger fish to fry” Jicup butted in, though it was apparent he had found the conversation mildly amusing.
“Speaking of fish...” began the last orc, who was rather slight, for an orc and very, very greasy. He was bald like the majority and wore a pair of goggles upon his narrow forehead.
That set the rest of them off;
“We just ate!”
“You had twice your share Koko!”
“You’re still hungry!?”
“How the hell are you so skinny?”

“I... was just saying I like fish that’s all...” mumbled Koko, cheeks turning red.
“Alright, well enough of that were here for a reason boys” Jicup reminded them.
“Yeah course we are, what’s that then boss?” Brutus asked.
“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me, he just told us before lunch you dumb bastard” Tale groaned.
“I wasn’t listening” admitted Brutus.
“Well you bloody well should of been” Tale continued, exasperated.
“Enough! Listen up, because I sure as hell ain’t repeating myself again!” Jicup bellowed, catching Brutus’ eye. They all approached him, listening intently.
“We are here on a very, important assignment. One so secret, even I don’t know all the details.” Jicup began his deep voice a hoarse whisper.
“Then what are we supposed to do boss?” Brutus enquired, flat face screwed up in confusion.
“Hah! That’s the genius of it, I know the location we need to be at, and the time, but I do not know what will be happening, at said time... Guess we’ll have to find out eh?”.
The other four let out a unified sigh...
“What a joke”
“Typical...”
“Were screwed”
“If I had a penny for every time you said that...”

“Aww, don’t be like that guys, It’ll be fun, like old times” Jicup insisted, grinning wildly, white teeth bared.
“First off, you mean normal times, and secondly no it won’t, I. Want. To. Live.” Retorted Tale, voice patronising.
“Shut it you big wuss, and for god’s sake get a fucking hair cut!” Brutus pitched in, pulling a stupid grin in Tale’s direction.
“Here we go again” Chuck said, rolling his eyes.
Koko muttered something about inspecting the mechanics and wandered off to the other side of the fountain, a good twenty feet away.
Chuck clawed at his chin absent minded, he needed a shave... Taking a combat knife out of his boot
sheath, he wandered out into the brilliant sunshine and began looking for clean water.

**************


“Interesting, so the water was fed through here and... oh how boring, elves have no imagination...” Koko muttered, failing to feign any interest in the fountain. He pulled himself back onto his feet and looked around, Tale and Brutus were still at each other’s throats; the former dancing on the spot doing silly imitations, the latter pointing to his bald head. Koko sighed; he’d seen it too many times before. As he looked around the room, taking in the dilapidated architectural workings he spotted something, a small iron bar protruding from the wall by the main doors, no one else had noticed it.
“Must be a lever of some sort...” he muttered to himself, having made up his mind.


**************

Unable to find any water, Chuck attempted to shave dry.
His hand slipped and the knife pierced his tough hide, causing him to roar in pain.
Blood welled and streamed down his face.
“Aww man, the guy’s aren’t going to let this one go” he moaned, trying to stem the flow with a huge, green finger.
He wiped the knife on his trousers, before checking his bare, well toned chest for flecks of blood. Satisfied he readjusted his belt, took in a deep breath and walked back through the ruins, towards the temple muttering
"Fucking idiot... oh I'm out in a jungle on a secret mission - I know I'll go shave". He failed to see the hooded figure trailing him, not ten feet behind.


**************
Koko studied the lever carefully, it was metal that much he could be sure of, but of a type he had never seen before.
"Must be some kind of alloy..." he mumbled to himself, reaching into the oil stained belt pouch around his waist. After a few seconds of rummaging his hand returned triumphant, clutching a pair of nasty looking pliers. He proceeded to administrate the lever, taking measurements and samples, "Fascinating... Perhaps the elves know something about machines after all" he mused, genuinely interested.
After several miniutes of what seemed like pointless work, he reached for the lever; "here goes nothing..." he pulled down fast and hard.

**************

"I'm telling you chief, his hair distracts me, always waving around in the wind, only use for it is to make him more noticeable, I ain't never tripped over him since he got hair" Brutus explained, scratching his closely shaved scalp as he spoke, trying to emphasise the point.
"You're just jealous" Tale yawned, bored of the exchange.
"Hah! If I wanted a weasel on my head I'd put you there!" Brutus barked.
"Right that settles it, guess which two lucky buggers are on first watch tonight?" Jicup interrupted, no longer amused.
Brutus groaned.
"Way to go short stack".
"You want a fight, big boy?"
"I'd rather pick on someone my own size..." Brutus said thoughtfully, a smirk spreading across his blunt features.
Tale swore and made to move towards him, big hands curling into green, meaty fists.
"Don't even think about it grunt, both of you, full watch tonight, carry on and I'll start deducting rations..." Jicup said craftily, licking his lips.
Neither one replied.
"Hmm? Are you sure your done? I swear there was a retaliation coming... Tale? Brutus? No? Pity..." Jicup finished and pouted.
"Fine... Big babies the both of ya... Good for nothing..." he continued to mutter under his breath as he strode off towards Koko.


**************

Chuck swallowed as the gun's barrel was pressed further into his neck.
"Well fuck me..." he began.
"I'd rather not Orc, the experience would be far from pleasent, I'm sure".
The hooded figure replied, undoubtedly a female.
"Aww, buuuuurn..." Chuck groaned.
"Of course, where are my manners? I am Krystine Talamont, Ranger of the Federation upon whose land you trespass. I'm assuming you know of the consequences behind such an infringement?"
"I get fucked?" Chuck teased, seemingly oblivious to the seriousness of the situation.
"Just keep your mouth shut and come with me... You filthy animal" she hissed.
"As you wish... My lovely concubi- ouch, what the hell was that for?".
"I said. Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut. I understand your race is slow, but you’re pushing your luck, one more word and I'll blow your pathetic excuse of a brain, into oblivion. Now get a move on!".
Chuck obliged, having finally realised the futility of his position.
“Very good, now let’s see if we can’t lure out the rest of the brutes...”, The ranger cooed in a patronising tone, indicating the temple with her free hand.
Chuck walked, hands above his head, through the temple’s overgrown courtyard. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the terrain for any items of interest. To his surprise she led him away from the temple grounds, towards a non-descript clearing, not five hundred feet away and waited, gun hand steady.

**************

"So what did it do?" Jicup asked Koko, indicating the lever with a wave of his hand.
"I honestly have no idea chief, perhaps the mechanism is broken. It has been a few thousand years since the elves abandoned this place, it shouldn't have stood this long at all, so we shouldn't expect everything to be in working order. I believe the building itself only remains due to the work of some magical enchantments... " Koko explained, his voice adopting a bitter tone at the mention of magic.
"Hah, what good did it do them eh?" Jicup grunted.
"We should be making a move soon... The time of our operation approaches" he finished, turning and striding over to the pile of gear propped up against the fountain. Chucking each member of his squad a gun he winked.
"Lock and load boys, were moving out... Wait has anyone seen Chuck?" he asked, noting the remaining gun; a worn, wooden rifle from the world wars - Seriously dated, just as most Orc weapons were - propped up against the fountain, waiting to be claimed.
The rest of the squad shook their heads simultaneously as Jicup turned to face them.

"Not a thing, Chief".
"Ain't seen him sir!".
"Nothing here".

"Great, now we gotta go play hide and seek..." Jicup declared voice devoid of humour. He picked up Chuck's rifle and slung the strap over his shoulder.
"Let's move, eyes open and guns loaded... I'm expecting trouble".

**************

“Nice catch Krystine, very nice indeed, my faith in you was well placed”, a voice came, muffled as if speaking through a VCS*.
“...uh”, Chuck managed to get out, before the gun was pressed still deeper into his neck.
Slowly the air in front of him began to shimmer, like ripples in a stream.
The ripples began to form a humanoid’s outline; it was tall and slim, though still a good head shorter than Chuck, who was of typical Orc build.
Within seconds the human had materialised, like the woman he wore a long dark cloak and a black padded vest, obviously designed with mobility in mind. He wore tight leggings, held up by a utility belt, upon which was an R-K90 plasma ejector, a standard issue federation revolver.
The man’s face was concealed by a narrow helmet, sporting a tinted visor. Chuck knew the girl was dressed similarly, as all rangers were, this wasn’t the first time he’d tangled with the Federation’s secret service.
“Where did you find him?” the man asked as he looked Chuck up and down, voice still muffled by the helmet’s VCS.
“Over in the temple courtyard, I intercepted him on his way back, scouting most likely” Krystine explained, still making sure the gun’s barrel remained pressed against Chuck.
Noticing her slight readjustment, the man nodded; “He’s not going anywhere, you can let him go. What’s your name Orc?”.
“Bout fucking time”, Chuck grumbled, beginning to rub the back of his neck, after the girl reluctantly withdrew her RK-90.
“Name’s Chuck, Grunt for Chief Jicup” Chuck continued, not really paying attention to the man, too busy checking for any more tell-tale ripples that would give away the rest of the Ranger’s.
Noting Chuck’s wandering gaze, the man sighed... “I see you have met our kind before? Very well, we can cut the crap. What are you doing on Federation land, our laws and your own are very clear. In times of unstable peace all inter-racial district traversal is strictly prohibited, punishable by death in fact”.
Chuck turned his gaze to the man, thinking.
“I don’t know” he replied honestly, unable to think of a deterrent.
The man chuckled for a minute, then stopped abruptly; “Don’t play games with me Orc, what are you and your fellows doing in Federation land, fully armed, during a time of unstable peace”.
“Seriously, I don’t know – It’s a secret, the Chi- Ooph!” Chuck doubled over with the blow.
“Bastard”, he roared recovering quickly, bringing his gauntleted fist to connect with the man’s lower jaw. The man was quick, but so was Chuck, the blow caught the side of his head with a deafening crack. The man screamed, reaching for his pulverized helmet and falling to his knees in agony. He knelt there thrashing and pleading, blood circulation to the brain cut off by his crushed skull.
“Arthus!”
Chuck spun round just in time to catch a bolt of pure plasma on his metal shoulder pad.
He dived for the girl, falling short as she jumped back, firing off another round over his head. He got up quickly only to find himself without a weapon.
The ranger fired off several more rounds in Chuck’s direction; all missing.
“Arthus is down, I repeat, Arthus is down, all units head to my position we have a renegade orc. Shoot to kill, shoot to kill!”, Krystine shouted into her wrist VCS, before swinging round and pulling her trigger yet again. Nothing happened.
“Shit...” she began, having noticed the fading power core within her revolver.
Chuck grinned broadly and lunged for her yet again, hitting hard and toppling her to the floor.
He brought his booted foot up to finish her off.
“Eat shit and die human” he laughed, pausing for just a second.
“There he is, open fire!” came another muffled voice.
Chuck turned to see eight rangers lying prone at the edge of the clearing, having disengaged their cloaking devices after crawling through the undergrowth. All carried serious firepower ranging from rifles and typical Federation assault rifles to what looked like a megaphone, but Chuck knew to be ‘trouble’.
“Time to leave, sorry dear, call me?” he winked back; sprinting off into the forest, in what he hoped was the right direction.

**************

“Chief, you might want to take a look at this!” Koko called after the squad.
“What is it now?” Jicup asked irritably, walking back up the temple steps and looking around in confusion, unable to locate his engineer.
“Down on your left sir!” Koko called, guessing at the Chief’s predicament.
Jicup did as he was told, looking to his left. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, but under close inspection realised a small stone slab had been removed from musky floor and propped up against the nearest support column, both were pearl white, wrapped or bound in jade green borders, respectively.
“I ain’t gonna fit through that, I’m not an elf” Jicup pointed out.
“Or Tale” Brutus butted in, smirking.
Before Tale could reply, a huge bang, followed by several whistles filled the squad’s tiny ears. Fizzing and crackling noises indicating impact were soon to follow.
“Incoming! Take cover boys, plasma weaponry at six o’clock!” Jicup roared bowling into Tale and Brutus, causing both to lose their footing and topple onto the marble floor.
They lay there for several minutes, breathing heavily, not daring to move.
“Injuries, Report!” Jicup demanded, deciding there was no longer any immediate threat.
“Fine...” Tale muttered, pushing himself up to a sitting position.
“I think I broke something...” Brutus moaned, rolling over.
“You have, you fat bastard” Tale said rather harshly, indicating the cracked outline of an Orc where the marble had broken under Brutus’ weight.
Brutus didn’t reply at first, dragging himself to his feet and brushing himself down.
“Whoa, better it than me, eh?” he smiled feebly, attempting to look calm.
“Wuss...” Tale muttered as he walked past him heading for the temple doors.
Brutus said nothing, pulling a face and sticking two fingers up at Tale’s back.
“Right, that settles it, were coming down Koko” Jicup called, turning to the face the open doors, concern etched into his hard face.
“Damn it Chuck, where the hell are you?”.

**************

Chuck’s breathing was ragged, his legs leaden and his ears buzzed as the wind flew past him, yet still he ran. If his assailants still pursued him, he did not know. Orcs were the warrior race, they always had been and he was a particularly fit specimen, only an elf could have kept up with him... he stopped, skidding to a halt, not five feet from a river’s ford, it was perhaps ten feet across and inhabited by all manner of things that crawled, the water having all but dried up. Nothing else set this location apart from the rest of the forest; a mound of moss encrusted rocks lay atop one another to his left, bathed in shade by the trees beyond. A great cliff face, covered in vines lay to his right. Satisfied that he was safe for the time being, he reached for the big black hitched to his belt, command referred to it as a radio. He fiddled with the dials for several minutes as his breathing slowed. Eventually he picked something up: “Perimeter secure sir, the shock troopers are ready to drop”. It was a high pitched voice, one with which Chuck and any Orc was very familiar.
“Goblins!” he spat, readjusting the dials and bellowing down the radio.
“Jicup? Brutus? Tale? Koko – Assholes – Hello?”.
“Goblin Shock Troopers...” he muttered. Many an encounter he had with them, short stumpy armoured marines armed with some of the best weaponry available to date. The Orcs and Goblins had always been at war, he couldn’t remember when it wasn’t so. He hated them, as did all his kind. Neither race had never retained the upperhand, sure Goblins were always ahead in technology, but they were frail, flimsy and self-centred. An Orc stood eight foot tall and could fell a man with one blow, never mind some puny goblin. Shock troopers were trouble though, surprisingly well disciplined and trained for short arses they could prove a challenge. They were the goblin quick-deploy elite, dropped into combat zones for extraction or infiltration purposes.
Desperate Chuck tuned into the local Orc command frequency. “Hello? Command? This is Private Chuck from Jicup’s band - over”. There was no reply for a moment, but then through the static came a sloppy voice, evidently someone eating on the other end. “Ah Squad Jicup, the mission is complete - over?”
“Uh... no, the squad has been separated, goblin forces are inbound to my position I need assistance”
“Uhm – Right, ok – let me patch you through to assistance – over”
“Fucking hell, I don’t have time for this – over”
“Wilco, patching you through to Warlock 5”
“Thank-you” Chuck gasped, hearing the reference to an Orc personnel chopper.
Static enclosed the line momentarily.
“Squad Jicup, this is Warlock 5 – T minus five minutes to take off, we will be there shortly after”
“Did someone say tea?” another voice could be heard, ecstatic.
Chuck groaned.
“I don’t have time for this” he switched the radio off and looked around, he could hear nothing but the chattering of monkeys and tell-tale echoes of grasshoppers and other insects.
“FUCK THIS, FUCK YOU AND FUCK ME” he cried out, setting birds to flight.
Grinning he hooked the huge, black radio back onto his belt.
“There much better” he groaned, cracking his back from side to side.

“Target sighted, open fire”
“Huh? What!?” Chuck spun round, catching a giant boot in a small dirt hole and toppling to the floor just as a hail of bullets ripped through the air above him.
“Woohoo, you missed fuckers!” he laughed, reaching to free his trapped foot, luck having him concealed in lush, long vegetation.
“Target lost”
“Affirmative”
“Watch yourself. 23”
“Haha, left your heat goggles at home boys?” he teased, staying down.
“I hear him, moving in”
“Wilco, fox-four – I have your six”
Chuck couldn’t stop himself booming with laughter, the high-pitched voices’ seriousness not rubbing off on him.
“You guys... need - to get a- l – l - life” he choked, gasping for breath between hysteric fits. His giant form rendered immobile with laughter.
“Target reacquired, opening fire!” a particularly high-pitched voice squeaked.
The ricochet of bullets on rock and the squealing of some poor animal could be heard several dozen feet from Chuck.
“Negative – false movement, continue to sweep, five metre spread and maintain radio silence”
Chuck grinned, having freed his foot he lay back in the grass, seemingly unphased by the approaching hit squad.
He leaned slightly to the left and could just make out one of the Shock Troopers, they were short like all goblins, probably around three foot tall. They wore some high quality khaki camouflage armour, it was some leather or nano-fibre reinforced with metal rebound strips, which could deflect plasma charge with ease. All seemed to be equipped with a wierd, sharp and light looking sub machine gun, he could make out little from here, but knew they were nothing special – they weren’t expecting much trouble.
Chuck held his breath, counting down every foot of approach, marking his targets. He could see five. Two would go down before they noticed, the others would open fire, his tough hide should be sufficient to prevent any fatal wounding.
“Three, two, one...”
“I see him!” squawked the closest goblin, all but on top of Chuck.
Chuck was quick to react; he kicked up, catching the lip of the goblin’s helmet, a sick crack confirming its demise.
He pulled himself up and dived forwards, prying the machine gun from its gauntleted hands, it was tiny - a pistol - in Chuck’s hands.
Chuck jumped up, letting off the magazine’s remnants to his left, catching a trooper’s visor – they rebounded harmlessly. Chuck swore and threw the gun at the trooper, knocking him backwards into the ford with a dull thud. His companion nearby merely watched in disbelief as Chuck pounced upon him, crushing skeleton and armour alike in a deafening crack.
“Bastards!” He roared as a round of bullets pierced the thick flesh upon his right shoulder, causing him to stumble forwards.
“Target down”
“Roger that”
Two of them intoned.
“You’re kidding right? Chuck grunted, turning to face the remaining three.
“Reloading, cover me!” one squealed as he dived into the long grass.
The other two, craned their necks looking up at the Orc.
“Eat lead cannibal” one shouted, pulling down on the trigger.
A resounding click, echoed through the clearing.
Chuck immediately doubled-over, eyes watering, laughing silently.
The two standing goblins looked at each other quickly before pelting off into the jungle, leaving the last one struggling with magazines and clips in the grass.
Chuck made quick, bloody work of the last one, grimacing as he wiped a variety of fluid of his boot.
“Goblin scum!” he spat at the mutilated corpse angrily before storming off in the direction of the escapees.

**************
The catacombs were dark, damp and eerie. The brick walls stained and worn, great holes gaped periodically, where water had eroded the ancient mortar. They stood silently, Jicup having taken point and paused – looking thoughtfully at the fourth network hub, where no less than seven paths connected.
“Well boys, this is the spot” he announced.
“What? It happens here, boss?” Brutus asked, perplexed.
“No, this is the spot where we stop, eat lunch and contemplate why the fuck we came into this maze in the first place” he snapped, obviously rather agitated.
“Hell yeah, sounds good!” Koko beamed, taking off his rucksack and digging around for any remaining rations.
“Alright! Let’s tuck in boys” Brutus agreed, following his lead.
“Hey Boss, have you tried Chuck on the radio?” Tale suggested, rounding on him.
“Wah?” Jicup spat through a mouth of salted beef.
Tale grimaced under the oncoming fluid but continued after wiping the saliva from his forehead.
“Chuck? Radio? Try and get hold of him, see if he’s still alive?”
“Oh- I see, good idea – Bout time someone got one” he muttered, while licking his porky fingers.
Jicup stuffed another fistful of beef into his giant trap and leapt up, strutting over to the centre of the hub and unhooking his own black box radio. He lengthened the antenna and fiddled with some dials.
“Ee got away sir” came a voice.
“What?” Jicup replied, spinning round to find his squad all silent for once, busy with their food.
“Of course, kill him and what about the rest of the squad?”
“What the hell?” Jicup snorted as he listened on.
“Kill them to, the charges in the temple are rigged and ready, position your men outside the perimeter, we can take no chances” another voice spoke, unlike the other one this was obviously human.
“Hmm” Jicup said, scratching at his chin.
“I think... we have some trouble boys” he notified them, turning up the volume.
“The Orcs must not escape that is all there is to your objectives – if they get to the extraction point, to much will be at stake. Give the miners five more minutes, to extract the remaining material then blow the Orcs into oblivion.” the human – a male voice – continued.
“What the fuck? We were supposed to stop some crappy mineral extraction?” Tale moaned.
“Says a lot about commands respect for our skills” Koko agreed.
“Yummy, yummy I got love in mah tummy and I fee li- wha?” Brutus asked, annoyed as they all turned to him with questioning faces.
“Don’t give up your day job” Tale started.
Koko groaned and put his head in his hands.
Brutus snorted “I could fuck any girl I want and she’d only talk to beg for more, short-arse”
“What’s that got to do with your singing being akin to a strangled goblin?” Tale muttered.
“Brutus! Shut it! Tale, you to!” Jicup snapped, irritated.
“This place is going to blow, and I ain’t sticking around to find out when” he continued.
“Just like old times boss!” Brutus beamed happily.
Tale and Koko looked at each other and nodded “We are so screwed!” they intoned together.

**************

“Oh... dear me honey, did I just catch you cheating on me?” Kristine mused, holding her revolver under the Chuck’s jaw. Each of his giant arms was restrained by two Federation Rangers. Chuck said nothing, his face green face was split, torn and broken. How they had found him again he did not know, all he recalled was that Goblin Mech’s pack one hell of a punch. He spat, crimson blood staining the hard, dry earth a ruddy brown. “Federation and the Goblins, eh?” He choked at last.
“Hmm, yes – we didn’t intend to tell you... sorry about that. Oh and now I have to kill you” she sighed.
“I was so lucking forward to that fuck” she said sarcastically.
“The offer still stands” Chuck grinned.
She slapped him, gauntleted fist connecting with his tarnished flesh.
He winced and spat again.
“Worth a try” he winked.
Exasperated she took a step back, lowering the gun and observing the beast.
“I’ll make this quick and painless if you tell me what you and your squad are doing here”
“I wish I could”
“Don’t play games with me”
“No really, I don’t know – the boss doesn’t know either”
“You actually want to die, don’t you? Well that can be arranged...” she turned, signalling the rangers and goblin shock troopers, surrounding the conference to take aim.
“Good night, honey... put him down like the animal he is” she nodded and twenty gloved fingers pulled back on their respective triggers.

“This is Warlock-5, Chuck of Squad Jicup, do you read... we have eaten tea and are currently above your position, do you still require assistance?”

A special thanks to TWIF and Unifish (at worldcraft.hordestudio.com), whether this gets 1st, 2nd, 3rd, last or anywhere in between it wouldn't have even been finished without you guys bugging me to do so



BY THE WAY: Has Midnighters forgotten about this?

 

[The World Is Flat]

Breeze.

Through the air went a serene presence - a breeze, wafting desultorily over a yellow wheat field, gathering the heat tucked in the soil. The thin, lengthy stalks swayed like a sea of liquid gold. There was a gentle splash, nearly soundless, as two or three drops of dew slipped from a granule. Lit by early morning rays, each filled with a dozen rainbows, they splattered softly on the greenery below. The little clovers and grasses and wildflowers thirstily sipped and swallowed the cool refreshment. The droplets disappeared amid the crinkled dark crevices. The breeze drifted onwards, and as it went another sound shook through it - to any within hearing, it was like an army of glass ants dancing upon a glass floor. But, all was normal, dear reader… It was the sound of trickling waters, from a nearby river.
This wandering breeze glided down the damp, sloping river bank. There could be found many a plant, entwined with one another like a single entity as they vied for footholds and nourishment. The breeze whispered secretively to a tuft of shrubs, the language one only it knew, speaking of the many things it had encountered during its travels. The shrubbery seemed to nod its plethora of heads in appreciation. The breeze had a fondness for sharing its insights and experiences. There was so much to tell, and a great deal it had seen!
If you asked a transient breeze to tell you a story, it would immediately stop and share a tale of the ages long ago. Very little evaded the senses of breezes, and their memories seemed to always call up times that had never been recounted. Perhaps your breeze would speak of the lumbering redskin Ogres, who would roam from the mountains, down to their river camps in pursuit of the spring fish.
…
As most folks once knew, such Ogres were simple beasts, with an immense love of food and comfort, and prone to frequent disagreements. In the evenings they would gather about a crackling fire, with a roasting catch on a spit. The Ogre Chieftain had first dibs, and should any dispute this he would be quick to pummel them until they couldn’t even move their jaw to chew, let alone bite down (for their teeth would be missing!). After all, that was how the Chieftain became the Chieftain.
When he had his fill, his underlings would bicker in their deep, fluffy voices.
“HEY! Oi was ‘upposed ter have da tail dis time, Smort!”
“Yew!? Na, yew got der tail ‘ast tym, ‘n’ ‘asides, oi deserve da tail cause I was da one wot spot’ed dis fish in der first place!”
“Whot!? Grrr, why yew lyin’ litt’l dung ‘eap, oi ‘m the ‘un wot did da werk! Oi caught tha’ flippin’ fish, di’jin yew seez? ‘N’ did yew see wha’ ee did tah me ‘and? Ee bloodied et all oop, wi’ dat spiky skin o’ ‘is!”
“Oh, harrr, yor ‘and all ‘urt, is it? Ha, yew idjit! Oh, por yew al roight. Hohoho!”
This was the usual vulgar back and forth - their voices booming like the wardrums of the Dwarven Hordes. The sound signaled every creature to steer well clear, for it was coda to resolve this with an Ogre Brawl. Anything at hand would be hoisted and flung, in every direction - trees, boulders, Ogres… Eventually, the largest would always sit on the rest, taking his fill of food and drink while the others complained and moped.
Occasionally, when the tribal healer was about with his belt full of freshly concocted brews, they would forget about brawling, and have a ‘drinkin’ test.’ Out would come the bottles of potent Head Split Ale, or the sickly smelling Blood Whiskey. The latter was a gruesome concoction, be warned - made from boiled men-folk (or two-legs, as the breeze thought of them) (Ogres were dearly fond of them, for eating) and mixed with a handful of Honeyroot. While they drank and drank, many a song would be sung, in the primeval Ogre tongue. Deep voices, intermingled with the sporadic gurgling belch, carried on for hours. As the night would wear away, eventually only one would remain cognizant to enjoy his spoils. And this was always the tribal healer, who’d perfidiously spike the others’ drinks with a tendril of sleep root.
…
Most breezes would tell you stories akin to this, and you would still hear their voices trailing off softly as you departed at the end of the day. This was the very tale our breeze spoke to the shrub. And now, as it swirled and swam, its thoughts turned to its own joyfulness. Home! It somersaulted in the air trenchantly, surging with a desire to gust. It had been a year since its return to this oasis, its home. Long ago, this was where it began… only a small flurry, born in a great thunderstorm.
Burning with a desire to share its jubilation, it stopped and stroked the tail of a rabbit, causing it to shimmer like the running waters nearby. Clearly ebullient, the creature dropped the morsel he had been nibbling and arched his stiff back, absorbing the breeze’s warmth.
“Oh, mee surr back,” the rabbit sighed, speaking in a queer rustic brogue. “Gud ‘ol friendly wind’urz, many thankees.” Only the rabbit’s kin, the breeze, and a small handful of others could understand his language.
“Brrr… oi shou’ be getting’ on soon, oi g’ss.” He stretched his somnolent paws. “’Ome’s a long wayz offen.”
Within the rabbits mind, roguish vituperations bounced about disorderly. Gurffs! Too manyz kloos calls furr one rabbidy ‘n a day! Oooh, oi! Noi beez der ‘nough of on karrots! Usn’s neeez em fer grubblin’ ‘n’ growing big feets!
The poor creature probably has a right to grumble - so thought the breeze, sympathetically. The breeze had seen and heard all, as it always did. This was the time of year when the two-legs would come - not the men-folk, but ones who were much shorter and broader, with spindly roots dangling from their chins. They rode on the backs of their rumbling, grumbling, stinking monstrosities. These things appeared like boulders, wrapped in a wrinkly old leaf. This was why most creatures called them the old-boulder-walkers. Rumor had it they were actually Elephants. Every year they surged into the woodlands, trampling and crushing. What was most invidious was, should any animal rise to flee, there was a twang like the grunt of a giant brute, and a segment of tree-limb tipped by black stone would careen forth and strike it… The breeze tried to dislodge the unpleasant image from its mind. It had seen it many a time, and with ever growing regularity.
The little rabbit nearly suffered a similar fate - being squished underneath one of the thing’s hulking, boorish feet. Desperately, the breeze tried buffeting against it; yet it hardly budged - irrefragable - the floppy grey leaves upon its head merely flapped. Just before one of the colossal tree stump-like pads squashed the rabbit, he managed to nip and dash aside.
But, he had leapt from the frying pan and into the fire. The breeze watched as he was descended upon by a downpour of those angry, sharp-tipped… things. Arrows, they are called. They whirred and whistled through the air. FTHYWWW! Collision after collision, black tips sinking into the ground as easily as if it were a mire. Soil, twig and leaf were crumbled and broken ubiquitously beneath. Nearly imperceptible gasps of pain emanated from the earth - decorated in shafts like hedgehog spikes.
The undergrowth was dense, and the two-legs could not see well enough to hit their mark. They spoke in gruff, irate voices:
“Aggh! Where are yah, rabbit?”
“Skrawny runt!”
“Mangy piece of fluff! I’ll burn its fur off nice and slow if I --”
“Grr! You shortbeards, you lost it!?”
Further dialogue was rife with foul expletives. The rabbit had just eluded them, delitescent in the earthy recess where a tree once stood. The intruders marched by, leaving a scar of flattened vegetation in their wake. Such heedless annihilation…
Presently, it seemed that the rabbit was reliving the episode: his tail twitched and his eyes were squeezed tight. His heart raced wildly, his mind timorously buzzing. The breeze scratched the critter’s ears in a comforting manner - he began to calm. Questions emerged in the breeze’s mind.
Who are these two-legs? Why do they want to destroy our forest? What are those things they hurt the animals with? And why do they do it?!! The breeze could not place any ripostes.
Old memories swirled into its train of thought.
…
A year ago to the day it soared from its oasis as it always had in early spring. It soared over the surface of the river. And after days of gliding and skimming it left behind the soft soil and verdant woodlands. It entered the demesne of short two-legs - riddled with towering mountains, some of nature, others of the two-legs’ construction. Long ago, they had been primitive creatures, concerning themselves with life deep in caves, and meals over fires. Back then, they had not captured those malodorous monstrosities with which to ride upon - nor would they fire their arrows at the slightest hint of movement.
There, in the land of the two-legs, the breeze discovered that the world was so different. They had tapped the energy of the earth, forming mountains of rigid grey shapes (castles and fortresses, these were called). It had taken no more than a few hundred years. The two-legs were as powerful as the ancient spirits! With a sudden rare display of contempt the breeze gusted harshly. It thought, Nature had not been so quick to form the lakes and trees! It shook with both marvel and abhorrence.
Suddenly, caught off guard, the breeze found itself in a pillar of black air; the dark substance clung to it - clouded its skin and tangled in its hair, assailing and stinging, the way honey bees behave with thieving bears. The breeze writhed and twisted in agony and fright, shrinking to half its size - nothing ablated the duress of the darkness. It spoke, whispering rancorous things in the breeze’s ears - but the breeze did not listen. It gusted skyward, speeding with the vigor it had as a young one above the churning waters of the Grimgale. It blasted into a white puff of cloud, and the particles of water reached out their hands and grabbed the dark air, asphyxiating it. The breeze heaved with relief, and thanked the cloud, giving it a strong current of air to carry it on.
“Yooz no needin’ thankees for us, friend!” sung the cloud - a chorus of soft, high-pitched voices. The breeze was surprised to recognize its old friend.
“Kumulo-niimbus, is that you, old friend?”
“Yes!” came a cheerful reply. Suddenly he coughed and spluttered, heaving like a tidal wave. His white fluff darkened. Alarmed, the breeze cried, “Are you alright?”
As soon as it began, Kumulo-niimbus settled - when he next spoke, his voices were nadir. “The dark air… the two-leg’s smoke. Vurry bad, yes, yes...” he gave a sputtering cough.
“What do you mean, friend,” asked the breeze, not meaning to be pushy, but unable to resist its curiosity.
Kumulo-niimbus was unable to answer, still coughing and wheezing quietly. The breeze inflated to twice its normal size, and - wrapping it limbs around its friend’s cushiony girth - pulled him high into the sky. There came a squelching, slushy sound - thick tendrils of inky blackness sloughed from the cloud, squirming as the dropped, fading into nothingness without their host. Kumulo-niimbus was purged. Together, the friends flew as if they were tenacious newborns again.
“Ooh, friend, thankees you have from mees!” Kumulo-niimbus sung happily. “Ee blackyness is all gone; gud, gud!”
Overfilled with wonder, the breeze asked, “What was that?”
“Doo ee knows about thee gurst trees that are tak’un from the forests?”
The breeze shook his ethereal head.
“Doo you knows abouts the ‘phanters?” ‘Phanters… The word was mellifluous (and unfamiliar) to the breeze. “No, what are they?”
“They are creatures’urs, ‘n’ are loik vury ol’ two-legs - you sees, they ‘r’ gud ‘n’ ‘rinklyz, ee are. Most beast’urs call ee ol’-‘oulder-walkers’urs. But, theys ‘r’ ‘phanters, ois says. Back’urs some moon-turns agos, ee two-legs’urs went on ee ‘venture, into the ‘unglyz, vury far in ee northern land’urs.”
Kumulo-niimbus loved to conflate knowledge as much as water droplets. He went on, “Ois could not get too close’urs to themz, ‘cause a wizard accompanied them.”
A wizard! The breeze had only heard rumors; it was reputed they could manipulate their surroundings by reading aloud a strange tongue from their sand-colored leaves.
“Themz marched deep in’tur ee ‘unglyz. There’s where ee founds ee ‘phanters, for ee first toim’ees. Trample the trees, ee did - yons ‘ells over loiks you blew as a ‘urricane, friend! Ee ‘phanters tramples ee trees to clear ee ones who have returned to ee earths’urs. Ee two-leg’urs not understands, no, no… follow’er’d ee ‘phanters, ee did, ‘n’ gathered ups all ee trees that fell. ‘N’ then, ‘hey made fires’z to make ee ‘phanters run faster, ‘n’ more ‘rees falls’urs! Ee ‘izard’urs prevented others from coming to ‘elp!”
“That’s terrible!” the breeze exclaimed.
“Ois agrees!” Kumulo-niimbus cried, his shrill voices tinged with angst. “The two-legs make them destroy… ‘N’ after they pass, they collects all that fell... ee plants ‘n’ ‘nimals.”
The breeze was aghast at the thought. “Where do they take them?”
“Oh, to this land,” said Kumulo-niimbus. His droplets scurried to form a knobby stick, pointing towards the ground below. “The two-legs dumps them in ‘urnaces. It’s sucked dry; ees resin ‘n’ ee water removed.” He made a grimace. “Then’z all burned up!” he continued. “Bad, vurry bad!”
The cloud scrunched together in his truculence, his pure white color darkening to that of a thunderstorm. A distant memory came unbidden. Rivulets of energy seeped from cloud to breeze; blinding lightning flashed; horizontal torrents of rain streaked past; a frosty gale howled above white-cap waves; the sea heaved like a thousand roaring Ogres, concomitant with clapping thunder and cracking timbers; shrapnel and debris launched from the sinking skeletal frames of two-leg vessels and flew like carrion birds avariciously circling a carcass-strewn battlefield. The breeze and the cloud had raged over the Grimgale, hoping to show the other air spirits they were not to be meddled with.
The old brawn vibrated voraciously through the breeze. To howl again… The thought made it shiver. With a start, the breeze’s senses returned. All was a blur, sounds and sights nearly imperceptible. A nagging sensation overwhelmed it - not unlike a starved beasts desire to feast. Gathering up all the will it could muster, the breeze thought, I do not want to transform!
Gradually, like efflorescence greeting morning sunlight, the sensation faded. The breeze felt the familiar freshness of its breath, vision and hearing returning. It remembered Kumulo-niimbus - Friend! The cloud was still held tightly in its grasp - sparks skipping threateningly upon his water droplets, daring to rumble - but his energy slackened and staid. His luster returned.
All about, other clouds and their breezes sailed by pacifically… Spirits of the air congregated when they sensed a storm was forming, being perpetually friendly beings. Sadly, the breeze thought, They are not spirits. So few remain…
Far below lay the territory claimed by the two-legs; standing silently were distinct cold grey mounds, comprised of subterraneous rock. The breeze squeezed its friend lightly. The two thought in silence for awhile, each thinking a different thought. Kumulo-niimbus reflected upon his near transformation to a thunderstorm with giddy happiness, glad to have avoided the treacherous mishap. His past experiences had been unfavorable.
After a long time, the breeze decided to give voice to its curiosity. “Where are we going, friend?”
“You will see!” Kumulo-niimbus suddenly reshaped into a falcon.
The breeze was surprised - but then understanding dawned: his friend wanted to dive. The breeze obliged him, becoming a downdraft. They plummeted towards the distant earth, warm air ballooning in the breeze’s lungs - a menagerie of hues loomed: brown, green, and blue. The horizon was a jagged line of mountains, encircling them like a massive crown.
Drawing nearer, groves of trees were visible. The land was like a bear’s scruffy fur - green patches suggesting he’d recently scampered down a mossy bank. His veins were blue, twinkling as though thick with precious stones. Something caught the breeze’s eyes: at the base of a hillock, in a clearing surrounded by a grove of pine trees, were two figures - foxes, their fur glowing white as brightly as Kumulo-niimbus. The foxes returned the breeze’s gaze, their eyes a mysterious blue like palimpsests of sky and sea. The breeze was unsure whether to be amazed or frightened. They were only a small gust away from them now. The breeze became aware of their fangs… a dark redness besprinting them.
Kumulo-niimbus smoothly spread his vapor wings, plopping upon a flat boulder. The foxes lowered their heads respectively, black noses touching the grassy earth. “Kumulo-niimbus,” one growled, “you are the first to arrive.” As they raised their heads a single ruby-red drop fell from one’s jaw. Red glistened fresh around their mouths, matting down their fur. Blood, the breeze wondered. Kumulo-niimbus did not seem to notice. His singsong voices chimed in the air, his words in an unusual tongue, “Ay-eeem tars’urs!” He bent into a bow, cloudy wingtips sweeping the ground, leaving thin vapor trails. The breeze knew this customary greeting from long ago.
Kumulo-niimbus morphed into the likeness of a small grey fox. Clouds - especially Kumulo-niimbus, the breeze knew - immensely enjoy taking on forms matching their companions.
“Whens do ee others’urs come?”
The foxes mutely turned to look over their shoulders. The sky was aflame with the low sun, beams of amber and crimson light running from the infernal orb like molten rivers or venomous snakes - from their mouths poured flame that burned through cloud-edge and plant-leaf. “When the sun is behind the mountains.”
Kumulo-niimbus nodded acknowledgement. He turned to the breeze, “Friend’urs, ee great many beasts’urs ‘n’ even plants’urs are ‘oming this awayz. Seems ee natures’urs is going to rebel against ee two-legs’urs!”
…
All sound and sight faded; it was a year later.
The breeze awoke from its dream. Familiar sights and sounds of home saturated it. A bee droned past, transporting bundles of sweet pollen on his legs. The breeze’s gaze shifted to a jutting root in the river bank - tucked beneath was a white ball. “Off’n ter ‘ome ois shoo bees,” the ball mumbled. “Mmnn, nappers first.” The rabbit twitched, and gave a snore.
Caught in the warm glow of slumber, the breeze recalled what transpired that year ago.
Before the sun was behind the mountains, thousands of woodlanders filed in from the woodlands. The breeze looked on in awe at the impressive creatures assembled: stout bears, inquisitive raccoons, lively otters, sharp-beaked ravens, bulky pumas, stalwart turtles, tenacious squirrels, a venerable old oak… As the light of the sun faded and the stars and moon twinkled into life overhead, a belligerent energy roiled among them. The breeze’s eyes met the star-like orbs of a white fox. He nodded respectfully, and reared on hind legs, pointing his snout towards the firmament. ARRR-ARROOOOOO!! His wolf-like cry flowed like a thousand winds.
Air rushed swiftly across the clearing, animal fur lifting, tree twig bending. Dear reader, the woodlanders began to march, following the white foxes obsequiously in the direction of the two-leg strongholds.
The war had begun.
…
End of Chapter One

 

[Grey Nightmare]

Finito?

@TwistedImage - What happens to the other ten? :S Do we stay locked in this thread forever doomed to wallow in our failure and despair? :O

 

[TwistedImage]

You nailed it.

 

[DarkePacific]

Ok so i finished my story, but after reading it i dont like it. Its boring, because i think it lacks action. At least now i learned that if i write a story, no matter how long i should write it in one day, since the other day i lose my track of thoughts. Anyway, because i dont want all that time writing go to waste here is my entry(4768 words long):

The Endless War

The Endless War

The sun was setting. The sky was red like the dying flame. There were some clouds in the sky, but they were very strange. Some times a lightning ragged down from them, sometimes rain started falling, and then suddenly stopped. Once in a while a meteor pierced through them, leaving holes.
Beneath the clouds, in the air, armies of flying creatures were biting, scratching, spiting fire and trying to kill any way they could. Blood was showering onto the ground, where another battle was going on. Two armies – an army of humans and a three times bigger army of bloodthirsty creatures. Though the human army was smaller, they were not going to give up. They were trying to fight their way to a big castle that the creatures were protecting.
In front of the human army stood their leader – a tall man, whose face wasn’t visible because of his helm that had two wings on both sides. His armor was grey, and he had a sword, that wasn’t very long, but its blade was very wide. All the creatures who stood in his way died.
It looked like the humans could win, because they had mages a lot stronger that the ones the monsters had. Until suddenly, the castle gates opened, and out of it marched more of the bloodthirsty beasts. A human shouted in desperation, when he saw that. Their leader looked at the gates that were still opened and took out a little hourglass from his backpack. When he turned it around, and sand started to shift, time has stopped, and the only one who could still move was the man who held the hourglass.
He rushed to the castle gate and ran into the castle. A few moments later, the sand in the hourglass ran out and time started flowing again. When that happened the hourglass broke and fell down. The glass remained, but the sand has disappeared. The warrior rushed through the hallway, then up the stone stairs, until he reached a steel door.
He raised his sword and hit the door. He repeated that a few times, and then kicked it out. The folded steel door flew into the room beyond. The leader of the human army walked into the room.
It was a spacious room, with walls made out of black marble. A black carpet went through it to a black throne, made out of a strange material. In front of the throne stood a man, who looked similar to the human leader, but his armor was black, and he didn’t have a helm, but instead, he had a hood. The hood covered his face, only his mouth was visible. He had grey as stone skin, and a narrow smile. The dark king’s weapon was a scepter with spikes, so it could be used as a flail. The human warrior let his sword down and then said:
- You can still stop… - The black king stopped the warrior in the middle of his sentence, and then in a withered tired voice said:
- It’s too late for me, you know that, so why do you even offer it? Lets just finish this, both of us can’t live. - After that he ran towards the human captain with his scepter-weapon raised. The warrior took a battle stance and waited.
Then the fight began. Both of them were fighting with all their inhuman speed and strength. Both of them used magic, and other skills that made the whole castle shake. When they couldn’t use another spell, the warrior raised his sword and tried to kill the king in a mortal blow, but the king hit the sword from a side with his scepter, and the sword broke into two halves. A spike from the scepter also fell down.
The black king laughed and raised his scepter in a final attack, but the warrior grabbed the spike from the ground and tried to stab the king. It was too late. The mighty captain fell on the floor, almost dead. He survived, because he moved away enough, so the blow wouldn’t be deadly. The black king slowly approached, like the grim Death.
The warrior rose with his remaining strength. His both sword and armor were shattered. He dropped the helm that was now useless. His face was quite young, but his expression was like an old mans, who is tired from life. Warrior’s eye color was white, but not like his eyeballs. His hair was brown, it was quite long, but didn’t reach his shoulders. In his hand, the human captain was still holding a spike from the scepter.
With a roar he rushed towards the black king, who laughed. Captain raised the spike, like a knife, while the king raised his scepter. When the warrior reached the king, the black king landed his weapon, but not fast enough, because the warrior had already stabbed him with the spike. Then both of them fell to the floor.
The king died instantly, because the spike struck him into the hearth. The warrior fell down still alive, but without hope to survive, since he was bleeding too much, and because he was mortally wounded. Before his death, a soldier rushed into the throne room, but he couldn’t help the great warrior. The captain looked sad, but relieved before death. He gave the soldier some kind of an orb, and then, died.
A sad smile appeared in the soldiers face.
- We won. Rest in peace, captain. – He whispered. Then stood up and looked at the strange orb he was given. It was white, with grey and silver hanks of mist surrounding it. On the surface of the orb strange images appeared and disappeared once in a while. It was like nothing Genlin(that was the soldiers name) ever seen. Genlin, by the way, was tall, had dark brown hair. He was also slim, his skin was pale.
The soldier put the orb into his backpack and then left the throne room. The castle was quiet, because once the dark king died, a lot of creatures who were summoned by his power now disappeared. The ones who weren’t summoned by the king fled.
The soldier walked out of the castle, and then shouted loudly to the remaining human soldiers:
- We won! – With those words the soldiers started loudly praising their captain, without whom they would have all died. A few moments later it was quiet, since all the warriors were searching with their eyes, where is the captain? Then they understood, from a sad expression on Genlins face. A whisper rushed through the soldiers:
- Dead… It can’t be… How?… He’s dead… - Silence, like a grey sheet fell onto the soldiers. After some time, Genlin spoke:
- He died after his greatest victory, after fulfilling the goal of his life. So do not pity him. – Soldier listened quietly. Then, after some time they prepared a camp for the night.
In the evening, when everyone, except those, who had to stand guard, were asleep, Genlin was sitting in his tent. He was studying the orb that he was given, but, since it didn’t look like it was going to give up its secrets, the soldier decided to try finding out what it is tomorrow.
When he fell asleep, he had very strange dreams.
…A little, ten years old brown haired boy, walking through the forest, picking berries. His eyes were white, he looked happy. The boy turned around and saw smoke coming from his village. He rushed to it as fast as he could, dropping the berries, fearing for the worst…
…The same boy, sitting nearby a corpse of a burned woman, in a ruined, empty village. She was his mother. The boy didn’t cry. He never did. Then he stood up and walked further into the village, where he saw footprints of a huge beast. There he saw his father, at least his upper half, since he was ripped into two pieces. He was dead, with a sword and a shield in his hands, and remains of armor on his body. Neither the shield, nor the armor helped from whatever he was fighting. The boy understood – this was a job of a dragon. Suddenly, he heard wolves howling. He picked up his fathers sword, though he could hardly lift it. Then understood that it won’t help. He dropped the sword and ran. Ran far away from this place, from everything…
…The same, just a little bit older boy, in a city. Now he’s about 12 years old. He is juggling knives, just like his savior and patron – a mad jester taught him to. There was a basket in from of him, where someone once in a while threw a coin…
…The same… No, not a boy, but a teenager, about 15 years old. Now he is in a hunt. He has some knives and sword case with a sword tied to his belt. In his hand there’s a bow and an arrow. On his back there are more arrows, an axe and a longsword. He is ridding a horse. The young hunter is chasing a… Dragon! The huge beast haven’t notice the little hunter yet. The boy put and arrow into his bow, aimed and launched it at the dragon. The beast howled in rage, that someone dares to attack him. He set the nearby trees on flame. The rider didn’t stop, he chased the dragon through the burning forest. Finally, after a long chase the dragon landed. It howled and then breathed fire on the boy. The little hunter jumped aside, and then fire didn’t hurt him. He launched another arrow, straight into the dragons eye. Now the creature was really furious. He stood up on two legs and then tried to catch the rider with his claws, though, without success. The battle continued. After the boy used his all weapons, except the longsword and his knives, the dragon finally caught him – he ripped the horse in pieces. The boy was launched into the air, and the dragon tried to snatch him with his terrible jaws. He almost succeeded, but the boy used his longsword to stab the dragon through the mouth. The longsword was stuck inside the dragons mouth. The beast howled in rage, the whole forest shook. The little hunter, instead of getting eaten fell onto the ground, where because of the impact, he lost consciousness, though, the dragon was still alive…
Genlin woke up. The dreams were strange, and he kept guessing, if those visions were stories of his captains past, or maybe some kind of a hidden message. He told no one about it. Half of the day, soldiers were preparing to move back. They decided to take as many goods from the castle as they needed. They needed food mostly, because their families were left with little supplies of it. For the next half of the day they travelled. At the end of the next day they have set a camp again. Genlin didn’t have such strange dreams that night. After a few days of traveling, they reached a forest. They doubled the number of guards, because it wasn’t safe in this forest.
Genlin was on watch. He looked at the dark trees and the spirits between them. He knew those spirits wouldn’t come near the fire, so he wasn’t afraid of them. Even if they did come closer, there wasn’t much that they could do. The creatures that the soldiers were afraid of were the great cats. They usually hunt in small packs, or alone. But sometimes a big pack comes together, then they might even attack the soldiers. Also the remaining forces of the dark king, though they were scattered, they might still try to gather and ambush them.
At the first hours of the watch nothing interesting happened. But a few hours after midnight, a strange, a lot brighter than others spirit appeared. Other spirits moved away from it, like they move away from fire. It was strange, because there are only a few spirits like this, and they don’t walk in such places like this – where masses of weak, dull, withered spirits gather. Genlin took out his sword and then came a little bit closer to the spirit. It reminded him of someone. “Could it be?” He thought. Ignoring the dangers of the woods, Genlin followed the spirit, who led him deeper into the woods. When it reached a clearing the spirit disappeared. Genlin looked around the clearing. There was an old hut and something that looked like it once was a garden. Genlin walked into the hunt. The orb glowed and he saw another of his dreams/visions.
…A boy of 15 years old lying in the bed. An old man is standing next to him. The boys head is bandaged. Near the bed, on the floor there’s a longsword and a knife, with a jesters symbol on it…
…The same boy, now about 17 years old. This time, in the same room, the boy is reading a book, and the old man is lying in the bed. He looks ill. The boy once in a while brings the old man tea and medicine, also talk with him a bit…
… The same boy, now in the garden, where there used to be carrots, cabbages and other plants used for food. The old man always said, that for him, the prettiest plants are the ones that are most useful. The boy is holding a shovel. He looks sad. In a hole, near the boys’ feat the old man is lying. Now he is cold and dead. The boy used the magic that he was taught by the old wizard to create a gravestone. He dug the grave himself, because his master always said “don’t use magic where you don’t have to, or where the result with or without magic will be the same”. The gravestone was carved with ancient runes. The apprentice started burying the hole…
Genlin woke up. The orb wasn’t glowing anymore. He walked out of the hut, and was relieved to see, that there are no dangerous creatures here. He walked back to camp. When he returned he found the camp empty and cold. There were a few graves and a goblins head on a stick in the middle of the camp. Genlin quickly understood, that there was a battle, and that his allies left afraid of another attack. He did not panic. The soldier found the footprints of his friends and followed them.
After a while he finnaly reached them. They were surprised to see him, since everyone thought that he was killed and fell down somewhere in the bushes, where no one could find him. Genlin told them, that before the battle he wandered into the woods. He didn’t speak of the hunt, the orb and the vision. They traveled the whole day, and a bit in the night.
Soldiers woke up early and continued on their road. They walked out of the forest by the evening. Finally, before the nightfall they reached a city. No one lived here, because it was destroyed by the fire, but travelers always stayed in these ruins, since it was safe there from wild animals, and there was a tavern. It was the only building that was still standing and working.
The soldiers set a camp in the city centre. There was a fountain, but without water here. Genlin went to sleep.
…A young man standing in the city centre – the same city where he met the crazy jester. He has white eyes. He is looking around – searching with his eyes in the crowd, for a woman, that should hire him for a job. He was told about her by his only friend. The only person he trusted, trusted with his life. A woman comes out of the crowd and walks to him. A smile appears on the mans face. The woman is middle-height, purple haired, she is wearing black robes. She is young. She is a witch, though not an evil one. She smiles back to the man, and they start talking. Two eyes are looking at them jealously from the crowd. The man with white eyes and the witch walk away…
…The same man with white eyes, with the same witch. The witch is now dressed in white. And they are both in a church. The man smiles at the woman. It is the first time after his village was destroyed, that he is in peace. She smiles back. And they walk to the altar. There they give each other something. The man gives the woman a dagger, with a symbol of jester on it. It saved his life many times. The dagger was a lot more precious to him than a pile of gold. It was also enchanted with who knows how many spells by the mad jester. The witch takes the dagger, and gives the man a little hourglass, which is her most precious thing, she got it from her mother, who got it from hers and so on. None of the witches in her family gave it or showed it to anyone, not even their husbands. The only time they show it to anyone is before death, when they give it to their daughters. Now she gave it to him…
Visions disappeared. Genlin woke up. It was early in the morning when the soldiers were ready. They left the city and traveled north. Half of the road was now passed. They traveled the rest of the road without any events. When they reached the crossroad, everyone went to their own villages. Before that, the soldiers decided that they will meet at the grand village, as it was called. There they will decide how to repair the damage caused by the dark king, what to do next, and pick a king. Genlin went back to his village. He didn’t have a family. His family was of nobles. All of his brothers and sister traveled away and live in comfort. Only Genlin didn’t do that, he decided to become what his father once was – a warrior. His both father and mother were dead, he didn’t have a wife, his other relatives didn’t want to speak to him, because he was only a soldier.
Genlin layed down into his bed and finnaly felt happy and calm. The sleep in the camp, where you have to be avare of various creatures, and use your backpack as a pillow can’t be even compared to sleep at home, in your own bed. Genlin soon fell asleep. He had strange visions again.
…The man with white eyes lives in a wooden house, in the middle of the forest, with the witch. They are happy. The man is now about 21 years old, the witch looks the same, though she might be a few decades, or maybe even centuries older…
…The man is in the forest, hunting. Now it’s a lot easier, because he can kill a bear with his bare hands (though he is slim and doesn’t look very strong), and by using magic and weapons it’s not hard to kill even a dragon for him. The man is carrying a boar on his shoulders. He is walking home. Then he sees a smoke. He drops the boar, and just like when he was a kid, he rushes to his home, fearing for the worst. He found it burned. He walks through the ruins, just like when he was a little boy, feeling as helpless as he was then. He drops on his knees before a burned corpse. This was his wife. She was his reason of being, his life. He looks at a little hourglass. It’s the only thing that will remind him of her. The only thing, that will help him keep sanity while looking at the corpse, because it will remind him of her love, because there’s a little bit of her essence in it(every witch that had this hourglass used some of her magic to create a single grain of sand). Then he saw his dagger with a clown. The dagger he gave her. She wasn’t fast enough to reach it. It would have saved her. He took the dagger. The little jesters, who was drawn on the handle, eyes began to glow and around him the man saw illusions, that showed what happened. A man with black armor kicks the large wooden door. The door breaks. A woman comes to see what happened. She launches a few bolts of magic at the man, but with no avail. The man just laughs and raises his hand. A huge infernal fire grasps the house; the woman is trying to reach for the dagger with a jester on it, but the infernal flames catch her, and she is dead a few seconds later. After a minute the whole house is no more. The man with black armor walks out of the ruins of the house. The infernal flames have done nothing to him. The illusions disappear. The man with white eyes is surprised – how powerful was the jester who saved him, if he could make something like this? Then he remembers the man with black armor. He knows who the man is. He will have to prepare. Finally the man leaves the ruins…
…A man about 30 years old, with white eyes comes to Genlins village. He has grey armor. It was white once, but now it turned grey. This is one of the few villages that have libraries. He walks to the library because he has a theory. The man is hoping that he is wrong, but has to make sure. At the library the warrior finds a book without a name or author, a book that came here by accident. In the past armies fought for it. Now it was forgotten and left in a library at the village. No one can read it, because it is written in an ancient language. But the warrior takes the book and starts reading it. When done he put it back into the bookshelf. The theory is correct. He discovered that war can never be stopped. Its reasons change, the armies change, but war always exists. Even if the good wins, sooner or later war will come again. He understood that. Then thought that it is worth fighting, and trying to bring brighter future at least for some time. Now a huge war was ragging. His once best friend, whom he trusted with his life, killed his wife, burned his home and now he killed the king and took his place. Almost no one served him. Most of his servants and soldiers left. Then he summoned various creatures who hated humans to help him. Those were demons, goblins, necromancers and a lot of other evil creatures. White-eyed man stood up and left the library. He was now determined to rally everyone, before the king gathered enough warriors to take rule…
Then he saw a vision. He saw the vision, of their battle. He saw how his captain sacrificed the only thing reminding him of his love. The great warrior knew he will soon die and meet his love. He knew, that if he survived, he would have went mad, without a goal in his life.
Genlin woke up. The visions this time were very confusing. He didn’t see what his captain had been doing for about 8-9 years, so some parts were hard to understand. Then he thought about the war that can be stopped only for a short time.
- I have to stop it forever – He said loudly. Then he thought ways of doing that. The soldier remembered the mad jester from his visions. It was the strangest and most powerful creature he had seen. Maybe he could help. But Genlin didn’t have an idea where to find him. Then thought about anyone else he had ever heard about, who could help. The most powerful and wise man he could remember was a necromancer, who lived in the woods. Though that necromancer never used his powers of raising dead anymore, he was still avoided and feared by everyone. The necromancer helped people a lot of times before, but sometimes he done the opposite. Genlin thought, that he will take the risk, if only it might help stopping the war forever. He knew he had to finish his captains work. That was because of the same reason why Genlin became a soldier. That is because he wanted to help bring justice and happiness, and to eliminate horror and pain. Genlin lived not for himself, but for others, and that was another thing that separated Genlin from the rest of his family. The orb started glowing more than ever before. The soldier jumped in the bed and almost hit his head into the ceiling. The orb flashed and disappeared.
Genlin prepared for the journey. He took his armor and sword – just in case. Then went out of the village, into the woods. Finally he reached the necromancers hut. Just when the soldier raised his hand to knock on the door, the necromancer shouted from somewhere inside the hut:
- What do you want?! – Genlin let down his hand, then answered:
- I come here seeking knowledge and advice – After those words it was quiet for a few minutes. Then the door opened, and an old man with a robe came out.
- What kind of knowledge do you seek, and for what reason? – Asked the old man. Genlin answered:
- I want to know, how to end all wars once and forever. – The old man laughed.
- That is impossible. You can extend the duration of peace, but you can never make it last forever. – Genlin thought.
- Tell me then, how to extend the duration of peace for as long as I can? – The necromancer thought for a long time. Then said:
- There are a few ways. First, you might create a document, which will make people hold peace, but that wont work for long. Another way, that lasts longer is to keep peace by force. You just make a lot of laws that don’t give people a chance to start fighting, and make severe punishments for breaking the law, but that is a bad way and it doesn’t last long. Another way is… - Genlin interrupted him.
- What if there would be someone who would always keep peace? – The necromancer stopped. Then said.
- You are talking about a peacekeeper .That is one of the ways, how to keep peace for the longest time. Though, the peacekeeper always fails to keep peace eventually. Sometimes he is killed or captured. Sometimes he just loses hope and stops trying to prevent wars. Sometimes people simply don’t listen to him. – Genlin was excited.
- But if a peacekeeper wouldn’t fail in his duty, peace could be eternal? – The old man looked at Genlin for some time. Then slowly said.
- Theoretically yes, but in reality – no. You could become a peacekeeper. I can see you have what it takes to be one. There was an ancient order of peacekeepers. I was one of them, until I lost hope and became a hermit necromancer. Come. – The necromancer took Genlin into his hut. On the table there was a bracelet. A bracelet with a symbol - star, on the star there was a single wing with white feathers. Necromancer explained.
- That is the symbol of peacekeepers. If you want to become a peacekeeper, you will have to be tested. And then you will have to be train. I will be your trainer. First I will give you the proper armor and train you, and then I will reveal you the secret of eternal life, so like all peacekeeper you could keep peace for as long as you can – The necromancer gave him a different armor with the same symbol as on the bracelet, then a sword and a bow. Genlin smiled – after he will finish his training he will prevent any wars, forever. His captain laid foundations to it, now it will be finished. He will end wars forever! He went outside eager to start training, not knowing, how wrong he is thinking that he will be able to stop wars forever.

P.S. I didnt have enough time to fix mistakes.

You're story made me bored within the first paragraph. Try to alter and vary your sentence structure, some parts were, especially the first paragraph, were very choppy. Additionally, the whole plot seemed fairly clichéd and a bit redundant. However, I'll try to not to be to cynical about your work, because otherwise I thought it was pretty good. 4/5

 

[Midnighters]

All contestants that have completed their story, please post the name, and the story for the judges to read. And other members, please refrain from posting about them until the poll is opened.l

 

[TheDanish]

My story is posted back on page 27. Do I repost it in this thread or...?

 

[The World Is Flat]

It is general custom for the host to do some digging.

 

[Tharkas]

The Clockbreaker by Tharkas.

 

[TheDanish]

I'll help out regardless. Here's mine.

http://www.hiveworkshop.com/forums/arena-226/short-story-contest-4-a-165128/index27.html#post1586183

"...Who Art From Heaven"

by, The Danish

 

[lateris]

The Endless War By Lateris

 

[Grey Nightmare]

Just Like Old Times by Grey Nightmare

Best of luck everyone =)

 

[Midnighters]

I will not do any digging. I am sorry. I do not have the time to dig for the stories.

 

[TwistedImage]

I will not do any digging. I am sorry. I do not have the time to dig for the stories.

Why do you even host a contest if you don't have time for... anything pertaining to it?

 

[Vengeancekael]

I'll dig them out for you
alext - The Exile's Stand (Though it's called a WIP, but he didn't post if it's his final submission or not)
The Danish - Who Art from Heaven
Lightskin - The Battle of Stirling
Tharkas - The Clockbreaker
lateris - The Endless War
Grey Nightmare - Just like Old Times
The World is Flat - Breeze
These should be all of them, if not, please do tell me so i can add your story to this post.

 

[Grey Nightmare]

wow lol so many have fallen ^.^

argh judge already D: it's too tense!

 

[Vengeancekael]

If i would be accepted as a judge then i would be happy to judge.

 

[TwistedImage]

I honestly don't think Mid even knows you ever quit.

 

[Vengeancekael]

lol i guess he doesn't check his pms, guess i'm still a judge xD

 

[Midnighters]

I knew he quit, I told you all, I have not updated, before I started this contest, I had time, and I had family matters come up. My grandfather got diagnosed with cancer, and is still in the hospital.

 

[Vengeancekael]

All right guys, i'm a judge again ( we talked in the chat), and he can't judge due to being busy, so he asked me to find someone else to judge as well. Post a comment if you want to be one.

 

[TwistedImage]

Count me in.

 

[Vengeancekael]

Okay then, that'll be 2 judges. Guess we can start judging...
I'll start judging next weekend and will try to review some.