• 🏆 Texturing Contest #33 is OPEN! Contestants must re-texture a SD unit model found in-game (Warcraft 3 Classic), recreating the unit into a peaceful NPC version. 🔗Click here to enter!
  • 🏆 Hive's 6th HD Modeling Contest: Mechanical is now open! Design and model a mechanical creature, mechanized animal, a futuristic robotic being, or anything else your imagination can tinker with! 📅 Submissions close on June 30, 2024. Don't miss this opportunity to let your creativity shine! Enter now and show us your mechanical masterpiece! 🔗 Click here to enter!

Story & Lore Mini-Contests: Remote Building

Status
Not open for further replies.
Level 3
Joined
Apr 21, 2012
Messages
33
Interesting... might join if I have enough time.
By the way, How can I send my work? I'm new to contesting. I see I should post my WIP here but how can I send my finished work? Also what format do you accept?
 
Level 30
Joined
Jan 31, 2010
Messages
3,551
That layout with hidden tags is just plain. Now, give me the prize already, cuz I'm in :grin:

1. The energy of the Stoneheart Clan's War Machine, the Deliberator, is running out.
2. In order to collect enough fuel for the machine to fly them to their home, the Dwarfs decide to cut down the largest tree of the Silverpine Forest, the Ishallya Seed.
3. However, the Ishallya's Seed is a living tree, which won't give up that easily on it's life to become a simple injection of fuel.
4. The Dwarfs plan an assault on the Pixies and Wisps guarding the tree, and the Faeries plan a defense.
5. Just before the battle emerges, a captain of the ship is "stolen" by four faeries.
6. Each of them tells about different parts of the forest, different elements, and different lives. Everything will die if their tree is down.
7. Captain faces a choice: to get his crew home, or to save an entire forest.
8. He comes back to his ship, while everyone are ready to strike the forest.
9. He throws four glass orbs at the ship, each carrying a different color and sound upon burst.
10. The ship's fuel is fully restored, and the commander strikes a command to fly home, immediately, without any questions.
11. Four faeries at the top of the Ishallya Seed watch a huge machinery flying over them. Each of them smiles, and provides a random blessing to it.
12. The Ishallya Seed roots up, and slowly moves to another forest. It's task for this forest is complete.
1. The Deliberator
A fierce flying machine, capable of providing moveable home for more than a thousand warriors. It uses the energy of the nature as fuel (wood, primarily). Commanded by Ashtero Kingray.

2. Ishallya's Seed
A living tree, currently rooted in the Silverpine Forest for the sake of it's own protection. Said to have "visions" of the forests that are about to be crushed with different attacks, it sends the four messengers to convince the destroyers to let the nature live. In return, the ladies and their daughters, along with many other souls and wisps, live inside the tree.

3. Ashtero Kingray
The commander of the Deliberator, and a wise person as well. He is strong, fierce and demands perfection, but as much as he's strong like a metal bar, he is truly a good person inside.

4. Lady Moon, Lady Force, Lady Summer & Lady Bloom
The Four queens and main protectors of the Ishallya's Seed. They use their powers in creating illusions and visions to save the forests against intruders. They are adept at the magics of Life, Death, Plants & Creatures.
You can't tell me I missed the theme, because it moves around TWO remote "houses". And it's your fault you let the remaining open x)


Now, Good Luck guys, and Have Fun! :wink:
 
It can be bloody, violent, but please don't go too much into detail. Decapitating people, cutting off body parts is allowed, even "blood sprayed all over the soldier", but do not go to naughty places. And no excessively insulting swear words, the f-word may be used, but don't abuse that now.
Also the sanctions part in the main post needs to be reworked, you will not get penalty points, but will be immediately disqualified.
 
Level 17
Joined
Jun 17, 2010
Messages
2,275
Yes i agree if you have no words to use but curse words then either you are not good at making original characters, or you don't have a large vocabulary. So the "Mature Content" only includes the extremes, but what if it is implied instead of being directly stated? I know very good authors that have implied vulgarities but don't ever directly say it.

OFFTOPIC: Can you reduce the width of your sig or do something about it because its very irritating to have to scroll to the right just to see someones post.
 
Level 7
Joined
Nov 11, 2011
Messages
219
My entry titled: "Heart of a Christian, Soul of Demon"

The trees pass through our windows as we are taking the ride far away from the cityscapes. My eyes caught a beautiful sight. Butterflies and bees were dancing around blooming, colorful colors. I brought Erick with me to accompany Jack - the leader of our small group who was excited to find unexplainable and never-seen -before lollapalooza phenomenons. Jack was a brave and courageous like a main character to little child’s stories. - The birds chirped down and light cover the darkness. The sun greets us with a great beautiful smile as where heading to the mountains. Singing with the nature, we were five giving melodies and harmony on the peak of the mountains. As they were busy singing with their heart’s content, I look through the vehicle’s window to see the glorious creations of our Father Almighty.- I was born Christian in the hands of my mother. I never saw my father when I was a little kid. I only knew that they broke up because of my mother’s suspension to father, having a mistress. - While looking upon the gigantic trees that surround us, I notice an old, splintered and loathsome warning. I can see it with my naked and vulnerable eyes but I can’t clearly read the text because of its age. “Why is there a warning in the forest?” I asked Jack. “Maybe it’s a warning to us because of the road properties.” He replied. The melodies almost lost its notes when the vehicle stopped its engines. Jack restart the engines again but the engines itself did not reply to Jack’s command. “What are we gonna do?” Erick told Diane, a fellow mate in the group. “Mark, our vehicle stopped in the middle of the forest, can you check the engines?” Jack asked me. I inspect the engines myself. “There is no defect Jack!” I told Jack. “Look on the water!” he replied. When I look on the water storage, the water was in red! “I told Jack about this. “This is a fresh blood, but how?” he told me with a desperate voice. “It is time for another phenomenon?” asked Raymund, a good mate to me. While I and Jack were fixing this, a harsh voice enters my ears saying “Look at the back”. I look at the back and there is a brobdingnagian villa. The villa suddenly popped out like a magician’s trick. My sister, Erick and the rest get out of the vehicle. We raised our heads on the villa. “Is there any person out there?” Erick yelled but, nobody answered her question. I get my map hoping we can track and locate the villa. “It’s weird that there’s no sign of the villa in here.” I tell the others. I glance upon a wide, lonely open space of the window on the villa. Then suddenly I feel my soul jump out of me when I see a man, cloaked in black and have a red, bloody and horrible skin. I can’t look upon its face because of the hood he wears. I was going to tell this with them but suddenly all my group mates entered the repugnance villa. I was forced to enter so. When we were completely inside, the door closed with great impact, lightning flashed, thunder roared, the sky went dark, the water heavily poor and the enter the gale vortex. “Hey don’t scare me!” Diane yelled. I trembled upon experiencing the situation. “Are you feeling trembled, take this.” Jack gave a gum for me to keep. Luckily we found ourselves on the lobby. I sat upon a sofa so I could relax myself. I notice a hole in the wall. It was small just for my eyeball to peek upon. I swallowed thin air when I saw a lady dressed in white. She was sitting on a corner of a room. “Hey look, there’s a lady there in white, crying” I told the others. When they peek through the hole but they saw nothing. They only saw the lifeless wall. I was worried about this. I peek again through the hole. This time, I screamed like a lady. I see its eyeball too. It feels like we have an eye contact through the hole. The scariest part is her eyes were red as blood. “Hey brother, we are gonna go so stop looking at the hole.” Erick told me with a silent voice. I get my bones fit and healthy to secure myself ready to venture. “I can’t still forget that.” I told Jack. “What is it?” he replied. I told him about the eye contact. As we were walking silently upon the bloody halls, I notice a glimpse of light going to this area. When we got a closer look, it was an old man with a long beard carrying a lamp. His wrinkled face stared blankly in the distance. With a lamp upon is hand, he seemed like to be guiding us in the darkness. As he get closer, the winds brought us chill and a glimpse of light. He invited us to sit down on the floor. I don’t know what the old man will do to us but I just sit down and follow his command. He tells us about the history of this villa. “You know young adventurers, this villa was a rich and glorious, home to the richest and royals. The halls were in thick gold and the water you take a bath with was purified water. Because of its highness and majesty, of course it attracts evil. Evil that scourge and brought pain to vacationers on the villa. It brought horror and suffering to all who oppose it. Assassinations scattered on the halls of the bloody villa. After twenty years of being famous, now no one dares to step or even look upon the villa.” After that short story telling, all of my group mates look upon to each other. Just then, Erick was shocked seeing the old man was gone.”Where could the old man went and how?” I questioned myself. The old man disappears like a bubble popped in the air and carried by the winds. After this, I get my engines up and continue walking. Thinking deeply about the history of the villa while walking, I found myself separated from others. “Where am I and where did they go?” I look upon my surroundings. I realize that I was in the party halls. I walk around the room seeing a chalice, an extraordinary one. “What is this chalice doing this?” The chalice was standing in a diagonal direction. Much more, it is like pointing to a painting of a rising sun. When I was about to touch the chalice, a little girl suddenly appears in stained gown, standing on the stage. I got nearer to her when she suddenly jumped to the roof. She runs through the ceiling. “Oh my…” I got scared about this so I run as fast as I can. When I was running, I broke my left foot. It was a great disadvantage to me. I trembled again when I saw the girl getting near to me like a lion hungry and about to eat its prey. She jumped out again in front of me. I was walking backwards trying to avoid getting nearer to me then suddenly she run to me and throw a knife at me. I got a hit on the stomach. She come near to me again vigorously and grasps the knife fast and furious, I predicted that she was gonna hit me again with a forceful blow. By the grace of God, I found a block of wood lying on the floor and I served it as a blocker for its next attack. Enduring the pain, I try to avoid her attack but it couldn’t so I just run as fast as I can to escape from her. I run into a bedroom and there I hid on the cabinet. “If only I can change the time!” My trembling spirit gets stronger when the door opened. I fix my bones and get ready for any attack that the girl will throw at me. I feel ease when I see the rest of my group mates comes in the bedroom searching for me. I get out of the cabinet to ask them for help. They lay me on the bed so I can relax. “’Thank you very much my mates” I told them. They treat my wound so I can join them again. Thirty minutes last when I got recovered. “Look you’re like freshly baked bread” Erick told me. I wear my upper garments signing that I’m ready to face any challenges. My mate just screamed as he saw what I last saw. Much to the surprise of everyone, the girl I saw rushed into the room. We all stared at her. She then broke the solemnity within us with a hungry face. “That’s the girl who attacked me!” I yelled. There was no other exit of the room. The girl crawls towards us slowly. With the help of our leader Jack, he was able to hit the girl with the hatchet he brought with us. We quickly leave the room hoping to escape the horrible girl but, “Help!” Diane asked. Her foot was in grasp of the wicked girl. When Jack was about to give a hand, the little girl merciless bit the leg of Diane. Erick takes quick action about this and she truly banishes the little girl. We ask her what she did to make the girl banish. All she said that she was just praying to the Lord. Even though it was a valid reason to my mates, I still couldn’t believe it because she never opens her mouth and it is impossible that she will pray through mind because when she prays, she speaks it loud just only I can hear it. Jack snapped me out of my thinking when he reached a hand at my back. He gave me encouraging words for me to keep inside my sleeves. We opened the door and continue walking. When we were walking, Erick tells us “Hey guys, I feel I should rest.” “Why would you rest?” Raymund asked. “I have a terrible stomach ache.” Erick replied. We find some places where Erick could rest. We found a dark room filled with scattered skull and bones around. On the end was an empty coffin, full of cobwebs. There we lay down Erick. Then after, there was a terrible thunderstorm. After the thunderstorm, the bones and skulls start to move. They were forming a skeleton. After all we have to fight the horde of skeletons for survival. “Raymund and Mark, get ready for a bloody war!” Violence and Pain have scattered the room before we notice the disappearance of the coffin as well as Erick. As we notice it, the skeletons broke into a thousand pieces. Worried about Erick, I ask Jack to find her. We search for Erick all over the villa. We were specially assigned to different location of the creepy villa. I was assigned on the yard, Jack on the lobby and the other two members search for every room. The entire group was worried and hoping to find Erick safe and sound. I was getting scared about this. It was getting dark and still we don’t locate the entrance. When I was looking at the yards full of pure darkness, I saw the old man sitting on a bench. I got near to him and ask some questions. I asked about the chalice, the girl, the skeletons, and the coffin which together disappear with Erick. Then he answered my entire question. He let me sit so that I could feel comfortable. The old man told me “Young man, the chalice was part of a magician’s hornswoggle. When the magician was about to perform his last and most beautiful trick, he was killed by an assassin when the lights suddenly turn off. When the lights get on, the people panicked. The girl you saw recently was the magician’s daughter that was lost in the riot. She cried and stayed at the very corner of the stage. Suddenly, a demon appeared like a magic in front of the lost girl. The demon gave special chocolates imbued with demonic energies to the little girl. The girl began corrupted when she swallowed the last piece. The girl will attack every person that will come near to her thinking that the person was the one responsible for his father martyr.” He continues to tell us the facts that we need to learn at he shared to us the story of the skeletons. The skeleton that you fought was the guard duty for protecting the richest family in the world. They were all together merciless slained by a top-rank killer.” As the old man continues, Jack and the gang arrived. When I go to them I tell about the old man. As I look upon the bench, again the old man disappeared. I notice that the man did not tell me about the coffin. “I wonder where it went.” I wondered to myself. As we continue the search for Erick, we hear multiple spontaneous dissipating voices passing our ears. We need to make haste or else I won’t find Erick. “Mark, we’re now entering the audio centre.” says Jack. “La-la-la-la-la-la…” The lullaby seemed to come from the audio centre. We stared at each other’s pale face. We stand with a crippling fear. The next sound was sort of scary. “Arrghh!” a scream reaches the depths of our ears. We nearly jumped of our skin about this. We slowly but surely enter the room. There we find the coffin. My heart rejoiced in Erick’s fate. I’m very happy that Erick was safe and sound. Before we get to open the coffin, it opens by itself! This made me troubled. When we look inside the coffin, Erick is gone! Then I heard a male’s voice behind me. When I turned back, it was Erick. My other mates notice this also. “Erick, I worried about you” I told that when I was about to hug her but “Mark, no!” warned Jack. All I benefit from hugging her was a stab in the upper portion of my stomach. It hit me with unspeakable force. It’s too late for me to know that Erick is possessed. I fell down of my knees. I shout very loud because of the pain I experience. It feels like I discombobulate her. But thanks for the encouraging words by Jack, I endure the pain and resulted me to stand at my own. I got much scared when Diane who got a bite on the leg starts attacking Jack. It feels like Erick activated the infection herself. Jack handed me a dagger so I can defend myself from my infected mate. My bones shaken up when my other mate get infected as well. Jack and I were the people left uninfected. I tried to be strong but I couldn’t. Fear has overtaken me! While Jack and I was busy fighting my mates, I didn’t notice Erick is behind me. She rushed through me. I was able to block her attack with the tray on the table. The tray serves as a shield. While I’m attempting to strike Erick, I can’t just do it because I’m worried to her. I ask Jack if there a way to dispel the demon but he says I have to kill her before she kills me. When about time to face Erick, my heart beat so fast that I almost lost my breath. I keep on doing counter to all attacks done by Erick but I couldn’t release a single one. I’ am so catawampus! This benefits me a multiple stab around my body. I didn’t know that I’m already distracting Erick so that Jack can hit at the back. By the Heaven’s Mercy, Jack’s plan worked. Not only was that it a sockdolager! After that I inhale very deep. On the coffin I found a key. I brought it with me. I invited Jack to walk to the entrance to get out of this horrible villa. After all, the sun spreads its morning light to all including the villa. The light reaches the window just enough to see the path. “Hooray, the sun greets us in our happy exit!” I told Jack. We easily locate the entrance because of this. Joy turned to pain when Jack hit me on the back. It was very painful that I almost lost my voice in screaming. I look at Jack’s face. All I see was a demon’s face. Could it possibly the answer to my entire question? I get up painfully if I want to survive. This time, I totally knew Jack’s super secret was he was a demon. “What the …” I told to myself silently. When I got up, instead of being shaken up by fear, I feel hot, burning and like very heavy but I can carry myself. I look upon my hands and was shocked what I saw. My entire body was morphing into a demon! “What in the world is happening?” I yelled! My voice turned into a demonic one. All have changed into demonic. My dagger transformed into an axe. A burning one. Because of my excitement, I didn’t notice that Jack already charges. It’s now the time, the war of two demons. We strike at each other’s body. We have different passive abilities. His was calling a rain of fire and I was Blizzard of Flames. I use my ability to hurt him and have an opportunity. He never gave up then. He uses his ability several times. This hurt me badly. The clash of the demons was so strong that it causes a massive earthquake. Atlas, I was able to strike him, on the head. After this I morph back into my original form. When I got outside I feel the morning light. I finally heard the chirps of the birds and sweet melodious blows of the winds. I directed into our vehicle and ride upon it. When I sat down, I felt a chill at my back. I look upon my back catching a sight of terror. It was the demon I recently saw earlier in the window. He looked at me like a storm about to hit a city. I get out of the vehicle as fast as I can. Trembling and shaking, I ran into the shadowy woods, finding a comfort area for I to stay. Every hour the demon haunts me down. One night, when I was warming myself in my campfire, the chill got though me again. After the gale, I heard some crunching leaves like someone is stepping on them. I get a closer look upon sighting the horrible demon, cloaked in black. I was about to defend myself but suddenly a blaze of fire drag him far away. After, a tempest flame just wrapped me, with so much glare, I closed my eyes and let my body carried by the gale of tempest flame.
.....
.....

"Wake Up, Wake Up!!!" the gang yelled at me. I woke at my slumber, marking it a nightmare but... “Mark, our vehicle stopped in the middle of the forest, can you check the engines?” said Jack. It is just a nightmare or a... FUTURE SIGHT??


I finally knew i got this form from my father...
 
Last edited:
Level 1
Joined
Oct 20, 2012
Messages
109
So here's my wip #1 (Demons in Blood)
WIP:
My sister and I was former member of a group who is eager to discover phenomenons. Our group leader was a brave, strong and courageous. His name was Jack. One day, we are taking a trip to the mountains far away from the urban areas. We were singing to our heart’s content when we were riding the vehicle. Suddenly, the vehicle stopped in the middle of a forest. We were five including Jack on the trip. We step out of the vehicle to find ourselves a lending hand. The group find ourselves in the front of a villa that wasn't known to all of us. We look upon the map to see what the villa’s name is. The villa wasn't discovered to the place on any of our maps even though our maps we brought were in different variations and brand. Jack tells us to go inside to unravel the phenomenon lurks inside the villa. As they were chit chatting, I look upon a window on the top of the villa. I look upon a wide, lonely open space of the window. Then suddenly I feel my soul jump out of me when I see a man, cloaked in black and have a red, bloody and horrible skin. I can’t look upon its face because of the hood he wears. I suddenly all my group mates entered the villa. I was forced to enter so. When we were completely inside, the door closed with great impact, lightning flashed, thunder roared, the sky went dark, the water heavily poor and the wind rushed fast and strong. I trembled upon experiencing the situation. Luckily we found ourselves on the lobby. I sat upon a sofa so I could relax myself. I notice a hole in the wall. It was small just for my eyeball to peek upon. I swallowed thin air when I saw a lady dressed in white. She was sitting on a corner of a room. I tell my mates about this. When they peek through the hole but they saw nothing. I was worried about this. I peek again through the hole. This time, I totally jumped out of the site. I see its eyeball to. It feels like we have an eye contact through the hole. The scariest part is, her eyes were red as blood. My sister tells me that we are about to get going. As we were walking upon the halls, I notice a light going to this area. When we get a closer look, it was an old man carrying a lamp. He invited us to sit down on the floor. I don’t know what will the old man will do to us but I just sit down and follow his command. He tells us about the history of this villa. He tells us that once this was a glorious and home to the rich and royals around the world. This was very famous to our parents. This was famous to them when they were kids. Because of the riches and being famous of this villa, it attracts the evil. Several cases of assassination happened on the villa. All of the assassination was all successful. The government and the media blamed the villa for its week security having passed the killers. After twenty years of being famous, now no one dares to step or even look upon the villa. After that short story telling, all of my group mates look upon to each other. Just then, my sister was shocked seeing the old man was gone. The old man disappears like a bubble popped in the air and carried by the winds. After this, I get my engines up and continue walking. Thinking deeply about the history of the villa while walking, I found myself separated from others. I look upon my surroundings. I realize that I was in the party halls. I walk around the room seeing a chalice, an extraordinary one. The chalice was standing in a diagonal direction. Much more, it is like pointing to a painting of a rising sun. When I was about to touch the chalice, a little girl dressed in a stained gown was standing on the stage. I got nearer to her when she suddenly jumped to the roof. I got scared about this so I run as fast as I can. When I was running, I broke my left foot. It was a great disadvantage to me. I trembled again when I saw the girl getting near to me like a lion hungry and about to eat its prey. She jumped out again in front of me. I was walking backwards trying to avoid getting nearer to me then suddenly she run to me and throw a knife at me. I got a hit on the stomach. She come near to me again vigorously and grasps the knife fast and furious, I predicted that she was gonna hit me again with a forceful blow. By the grace of God, I found a block of wood lying on the floor and I served it as a blocker for its next attack
Hahaha! Our story looks identical because some of the grammars are nearly in my story but yours is more of a scary but mine has twist on the story. Oh and the way you and me tell the story is quite the same. But I am not accusing you of a stealer or something against you! Just got interested of your story. +REP, my friend!:thumbs_up:
 
Level 30
Joined
Jan 31, 2010
Messages
3,551
Freedom in creating descriptive details and scenes of fight which include blood and rupture are accepted, and welcomed. However, describing certain details a little too much would draw away from "detailing" to "disgusting". The fine line is there, you'll know when to stop.

On a side note, swearing and using rude words, such as "Nigger", "Faggot", etc. are very likely to earn you negative points, or get you out of the contest VERY fast.
However, words such as "Shit", "Whore/Bitch" or "Fuck" CAN be used, but with moderate taste for not overwhelming the story with too much rude content, and when you really think that your Super-boosted Steroid Heroine Amazon Chick can't scream and shout "All possible curses at these archers!" instead of "Shitty archers!!!!!1", or "You little prostitute." rather than "You whore." :grin:


@NagaRulez, try to write the story with more emotions, rather than making it look like a political informer report. More emotions will also serve you in adding dialogues (which help visualization of characters, and if the writer is skilled enough, scenes and atmosphere, and even expressions).
Your Story:
My sister and I was former member of a group who is eager to discover phenomenons. Our group leader was a brave, strong and courageous. His name was Jack. One day, we are taking a trip to the mountains far away from the urban areas. We were singing to our heart’s content when we were riding the vehicle. Suddenly, the vehicle stopped in the middle of a forest. We were five including Jack on the trip. We step out of the vehicle to find ourselves a lending hand. The group find ourselves in the front of a villa that wasn't known to all of us. We look upon the map to see what the villa’s name is...

My Re-work with Emotions:
I remember the times when my sister and I were heading down the mountains with Jack. He was our leader, the leader of a small group which searched for weird and unexplained phenomenons. Jack was a fierce man, almost like he was a Barbarian in his past life: strong and with intense courage. As we were driving far from urban areas, we were singing, but the sound of five voices stopped almost instantly when our vehicle stopped in the middle of a forest, without a reason. While we raised our heads, almost like by magic, a huge house was standing in front of us. We weren't able to track it on any of our maps...
Keep up the good work ;)
 
Level 19
Joined
Jan 22, 2011
Messages
3,972
So, chapter 4 is out, so run too your PC, if you´re seen this in another PC.


The history off Darkforge [WIP][Interactive]
[tr]
This is the first time i will say something about the ending, there will be this chapter chapters, and meaby 5 for those elections that are longer.
For looking the previus issues, please see the other entries i made since i don´t wanna make a resume, i am sorry of my lazyness.

First Election

Open the door

Run away

Unexpected tab 4

Please choose one of the possibilities above
This apears on chapter 3. If you follow soldiers in chapter 2, and you hear the soldier in chapter 1.

Second Election

log in the request

Negate

Please choose one of the possibilities above
You accept the request off the leader, and you guide him, finally, you arrive a strange pedestal whit a sword, you feel the call all time stronger, but them, he enchants his blade, and attacks the encrusted one, breaking it in two, and you remember everything sudenly, you were a dark mage, that blade was your key too be inmortal, but that was the past.
10 years later... You wake up early, your wife smiles at you, you answer her smile, them she says-I am pregnant!-you look a them for one second, them you kiss her, yeah, this life, is better, you think.
Good End 1.
You negate the leader too follow you, he looks angry, but you move quickly and silently and he don´t get chanse too get you, you find a blade in an altar, you decide too pull it out, as you do it, you feel enormous power, now you´re the darkmage you want too be, inmortal, and soulless.
10 years later... You´re the king, the land is devasted, every living creature sufers too survive, you don´t care, its all yours, and they don´t can do anything, you laught.
Evil End.


This is what happens most LoL. But this is the one before opening the door.

Second Election

Keep doing

Use magic

Please choose one of the possibilities above
Even if you now you won´t get out the vulcan land, you try, after may weeks, you die from starvation...
Neutral end, whant too now the secrets of darkforge? get another end!
You use magic in the vulcan land, strangely you feel it more stronger, you teleport too an altar whit a blade, what is this place? the blade is calling you... yeah, you remember, you are a dark magician, near too create doom over the world, whit this blade. Get the blade, or leave it there?


[/tab]



Chapter 4 has 3 ends, hope you can wait for some more strange ends!.
 
Level 4
Joined
Nov 1, 2012
Messages
65
Hey guys, I'm just new here but I have been browsing The Hive for a considerable amount of time, downloading maps, and I was just wondering that should it be just a short story, or can it be a long one? And another, can I post my story whole in one post? Replies are greatly appreciated.
 
Level 4
Joined
Nov 1, 2012
Messages
65
Dire Revelations in Clandestine
(Updated as of 11/10/12)
Things are not supposed to be this way, but I guess matters like these are not changeable, and should be dealt with accordingly.

It has been a decade after my father’s passing, and Discessus, my beloved kingdom, is still mourning for their former king. It has been three years after the Magnobliteres, “The Great Obliteration” when I parted with my brother. I still hear that his hostility towards my kingdom and I is still unwaveringly increasing. I have only one of the six original lands, Auroros, while my brother Darkes has already conquered two of the six, Austrïe and Dïaeres, and currently executing another invasion in Terro as I think of my next action. I close my eyes and remember the day of our parting…

“It should be me who would rule the kingdom of our father, for I am the older between us,” Darkes strongly cried unto me.

“No, my father has already appointed me in secret before our travel to Borea, and our uncle Scrivus has also approved of my ascension to the throne. You should understand brother. As much as I wanted you to be the next king, I cannot do more than follow our father’s words,” I replied.

“Then let me be king, and let us disregard our father’s testimony,” Darkes challenged.

“No, I cannot my brother. I need to follow our former king, and not you my brother,” I declared.

“Then so be it! Be the king of your kingdom, and I’ll be in my own. I will have supporters, and soon I’ll show you who is more righteous in a throne!”


I watched my brother leave to Dïaeres, and told the present elders that I shall build my kingdom in the next great capital of the former kingdom: Auroros.
The people restored Auroros and it has been the land of my kingdom that I called Discessus, meaning “Separation”, from the memory of my parting with Darkes. I tried my best to gather the people who survived, who were less than a hundred thousand. I had my kingdom rise from the ashes of the Magnobliteres.

Two years after establishing my kingdom, I went on an expedition to scan the fallen great land of Drandes, the capital of Arkanthos, to see how my uncle Scrivus could have died. The flames were still burning and I saw the few isles that were left by the great ball of black fire. The tip of the tower of Magnes was still visible, but it is constantly being consumed by the dense fire. Jagged rocks and the tall, fallen buildings were all consumed by flames. The sea was dark, containing not seawater, but black, oil-like liquid. The ruins had a very demonic feel. My men and I wandered further into the center of Drandes, but halted when I felt a very strange and malevolent sensation.

“Sir, the flames and the foul smoke are becoming denser as we progress. Do you wish to continue?” my servant informed me.

“Mmm… I see it wise to return. Let us go, I do not like the feels of the flames and smoke here,” I ordered my servant.

There was a foul sensation of corruption and evil power in the ruins of Drandes, and my men and I were already coughing their lungs out. We returned hastily to Discessus, and planned to gather the survivors in the nearby land of Borea. The elders have approved of this, but they told me to not go to Borea yet, for Discessus is still lacking the resources to go to there. It is now the fifth year and I received a letter, telling the exploits of the kingdom of my brother, Conscensio, which is situated in Dïaeres. It was said in the letter that they have already sought out one of the original six lands of Arkanthos, and that they are currently preparing for going to Terro, further increasing their sovereignty. When the elders have heard of this, they told me to seek now the nearby land of Borea, to help the survivors there and to include them in the regime of Discessus, and hopefully find a sage who can help my kingdom. I prepare my men and then we sought out Borea.


It is the third day of our journey to Borea, and the weather is still in our favor. We still have considerable amount of food and other supplies, and my general, Praelios, is ever ready for battles that we may encounter. As dawn breaks, we see a hint of land in the far north. As the sun has fully risen, we have docked our ships by the nearby shore. We left our ships, and started to prepare ourselves to walk, when I saw an old man walking toward us. A great amount of blood was in his body and hands. My men prepared themselves for a possible battle, when the old man spoke.

“I see you survived the Magnobliteres. I apologize for my current appearance. I just finished hunting a wild boar in the Ocea Forest. May I just ask, where did you come from?”

“Greetings old man. My men and I came from the nearby land of Auroros, in search of survivors in Borea to include them to the recently built kingdom of Discessus. I am Ignes, King of Discessus, son of the former King, Unvise,” I replied.

“Ah, that is why I recognized your face. You and your brother studied here in Borea, under the tutelage of my friend, Scrivus. My name is Viseus. May I ask another, how is Scrivus?”

“Uncle Scrivus has died, three years after the Magnobliteres. He died during his journey to Drandes. His body was never found, but was presumed dead when we saw that dense flames covered the fallen Drandes.”

The old man was silent for a moment, and looked to the clouds. Then he spoke again.

“How unfortunate, for I have not thought that Scrivus could die, considering that he was the Sage of Knowledge. Well, let us not wait any more; we must tread to the capital of Borea now. They need to hear of your news.”

“Thank you, Sage Viseus.”

After that, we tread on to the capital of Borea, the well known Zephyros, famous for their great libraries. The roads to Zephyros were still fine, but there were places that were burned by the black fire, like the Ocea forest.

“The Ocea forest was once very fresh and brimming with life. The river Flumen was sparkling, full of healthy fishes and plant life. The forest was abundant with wildlife. But gaze at the forest; see the death of most of its groves, the river Flumen is now hazardous to drink. The boar I caught awhile ago was only a gift of luck, and it was even sickly. It is rough these days,” Viseus declared.

“I concur. Thought of the great black ball of fire damaging other cesas did not pass our thoughts. Had it been not that Ocea is situated near the borders of Borea, it will still be alive.” We passed by a log with a faint hint of black fire. “The Magnobliteres had done more destruction that any man can fathom. It was once thought, during the early years of Discessus, that the Magnobliteres destroyed only Drandes. That being false, brings shivers to me. Have you seen the state of Zephyros, Sage Viseus?”

“Not still. I have only been to the mountains of Prudentis, doing things I will not discuss now. We are getting close now.”

The following moments were filled with silence, only our footsteps are audible. A large, iron gate became visible. When we arrived we were greeted by a soldier clad only in cloth armor.

“Greetings, sires. I see that you do not come from Borea. So you survived the Magnobliteres?” the soldier said.

“Greetings. The obvious, states the answer you seek. My men and I came from Auroros, and we met Viseus, the Sage of Power, in the shoreline of Fuldem. I am Ignes, son of Unvise, the new king of the new regime of Discessus.”

The soldier and his comrades all bowed down upon hearing of my rank.

“Rise. Please let us share the news of our survival and to let the people of Zephyros know that they shall be included in my regime.” I ordered.

“A-a-at once my lord!” the soldier stammered. “Open the Outer Iron Gates and the Inner Iron Gates! Make way for the king!”

The gates were opened and the soldiers stood by promptly, as to give us proper entrance. When we reached the capital, we were met with numerous smiling faces. The people were very happy, throwing flowers everywhere. But there was one I saw that did not look like a flower or a petal.

There was an explosion. Few bodies flew, and black flames were seen. I staggered back during the explosion, but fortunately I was not badly injured. It was Praelios, my general, who was wounded roughly. Everyone screamed, and a long high-pitched monotonous tone ringed in my ear, because of the sound of the explosion. Then, something peculiar crossed my vision.

It was something I never imagined.


EDIT: Used hidden tags, edited some word choices, wrong spellings of names, and edited the spacing of paragraphs, changed title from "Secrets of Drandes" to "Dire Revelations in Clandestine", cleaned things.
 
Last edited:
Level 1
Joined
Oct 20, 2012
Messages
109
Hey guys, I'm just new here but I have been browsing The Hive for a considerable amount of time, downloading maps, and I was just wondering that should it be just a short story, or can it be a long one? And another, can I post my story whole in one post? Replies are greatly appreciated.

Yeah, you can edit your post of the WiP to add some changes. So, you can avoid double posting.:grin:
 
Level 7
Joined
Nov 11, 2011
Messages
219
Secrets of Drandes

Chapter 1 - Conquest to Conquer, 1st Century 7th Decade, Second Year

Things aren’t supposed to be this way, but I guess matters like these are not changeable, and should be dealt with accordingly.

It has been a decade after my father’s passing, and Discessus, my beloved kingdom, is still mourning for their former king. It has been three years after the Magnobliteres, “The Great Obliteration” when I parted with my brother. I still hear that his hostility towards my kingdom and I is still unwaveringly increasing. I have only one of the six original lands, Auroros, while my brother Darkes has already conquered two of the six, Austre and Diaeres, and currently executing another invasion in Terro as I think of my next action. I close my eyes and remember the day of our parting…

“It should be me who would rule the kingdom of our father, for I am the older between us,” Darkes strongly cried unto me.
“No, my father has already appointed me in secret before our travel to Borea, and our uncle Scrivus has also approved of my ascension to the throne. You should understand brother. As much as I wanted you to be the next king, I cannot do more than follow our father’s words,” I replied.
“Then let me be king, and let us disregard our father’s testimony,” Darkes challenged.
“No, I cannot my brother. I need to follow our former king, and not you my brother,” I declared.
“Then so be it! Be the king of your kingdom, and I’ll be in my own. I will have supporters, and soon I’ll show you who is more righteous in a throne!”
I watch my brother leave to Diaeres, as I tell the other elders to prepare for my ascension to the throne.


The people restored Auroros and it has been the land of my kingdom that I called Discessus, which came from the memory of my parting with Darkes. I tried my best to gather the people who survived, which was less than a hundred thousand. I helped my kingdom rise from the ashes of the Magnobliteres. Two years later, I went on an expedition to scan the fallen great land of Drandes, the capital of Arkanthos, to see how my uncle Scrivus could have died. The flames were still burning and I saw the few isles that were left by the great ball of black fire. The tip of the tower of Magnes was still visible, but it is constantly being consumed by the dense fire. Me and my men wandered further into the center of Drandes, but stopped when I felt a strange and malevolent sensation.
“Sir, the flames and the foul smoke are becoming denser as we progress. Do you wish to continue?” my servant informed me.
“Mmm… I see it wise to return. Let us go, I do not like the sensation of the flames and smoke here,” I ordered my servant.


There was like a foul sensation of corruption and evil power in the ruins of Drandes, and my men and I were already huffing and coughing. We returned hastily to Discessus, and planned to gather the survivors in the nearby land of Borea. The elders have approved of this, but they told me to not go to Borea yet, for Discenssus is still lacking the resources to go to there. It is now the fifth year, and I received a letter, telling the exploits of the kingdom of my brother, Conscensio, that is situated in Diaeres. It was said in the letter that they have already sought out one of the original six lands of Arkanthos, and that they are currently preparing for going to Terro, further increasing their sovereignty. When the elders have heard of this, they told me to seek now the nearby land of Borea, to help the survivors there and to include them in the regime of Discessus. I prepare my men and then we sought out Borea.

Wow, your story was a cool one.
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091

I'm a contestant as well. I just haven't posted my wip yet.

A Hole in the Wall

"My wife died long ago... My weary mind cannot remember the exact date, no, not even the year, but I remember it as well as I possibly can. The sky was black that day, and it was before the revolution, but not long before. I had gone to the market district that afternoon, whilst she remained at the cottage. There was rioting at the factories. I recall the paper, a wealthy landowner was stabbed and robbed, down to his last strip of clothing. The people expressed their scorn for the upper class, and with their violent expression many people died... In the streets revolunaries flocked together, vandalizing whatever property they could. I contemplated leaving the country, but it was little too late. The raving, ranting denizens of the market perpetuated my already growing paranoia, I suspected everyone to be a Bolshevik, and I was hasty to return home that day. Miles before my arrival at the cottage, I could see smoke hovering over the surrounding forest, anxiety quickly set in, and I hurried the driver. When he pulled up to the gate, I saw my home smouldering in ruin, and the surrounding barns and sheds being burned down by a handful of revolutionaries. It was once such a beautiful cottage, to one side an open range, where my horses resided, to the other a barn where farm equipment was stored. Between them both rested my home, a beautiful white structure, complimented by a gold facade. The handful of vandalizers that remained did disperse as they saw me exit my carriage and rush toward the barn. More clearly than anything else, I remember proceeding to dismounting my rifle from a rack on the wall of the barn... I took great care in disposing of the revolutionaries, firing a single bullet at each of their legs, before finishing them with one to the head. Most of them tried scattering when they saw I was armed, but to my surprise, not all of them shared a cowardly nature. The last one tackled me as I was reloading, jarring the rifle from my hands, we fell to the ground, wrestling for a time, until I finally had him pinned, I tried choking him momentarily, but he overpowered me, so I used my teeth, to bite deep into his cheek. Screaming out in agony, he managed to push me back, forcing lose my grip on him. He rolled onto his belly, and crawled his way toward my rifle through the blood and mud. I grabbed his foot, dragging him toward me, until I could climb onto his back. He could not reach my rifle, and I had firmly planted myself atop his hapless body, but I still could not choke him without losing my leverage. I remember so clearly, I had forced his face into a muddied puddle of water, as hard as I could I held him there until he stopped squirming so frantically. After I felt life swarm from his body, I stood to my feet, and wandered into the woods. The black skies roared, and it began to rain heavily, It was miles before I found an old country road with a decrepit house resting to its side. I bolted through the door, slamming it against the wall.


I will properly paragraph the final product only.
 
Last edited:
Level 17
Joined
Apr 3, 2010
Messages
1,101
da fist thank for contestant list
also ven i just copied sanctions from alpharezs contest feel free to edit since i still have little clue on what admins say is mature and i dont understand certain rules fully
. sorry i will be slightly less active because i am on holiday and the internet is almost non existant. however i will use my phone to keep tabs on the contest.
i wil be back on the 4

on a side note when u edit on android it says vote now not edit now
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091
Oh damn, we might as well give up :(
Why becuase your here. Joking, but really your gonna win again.

Ahaha.


A Hole in the Wall

"My wife died long ago... My weary mind cannot remember the exact date, no, not even the year, but I remember it as well as I possibly can. The sky was black that day, and it was before the revolution, but not long before. I had gone to the market district that afternoon, whilst she remained at the cottage. There was rioting at the factories. I recall the paper, a wealthy landowner was stabbed and robbed, down to his last strip of clothing. The people expressed their scorn for the upper class, and with their violent expression many people died... In the streets revolunaries flocked together, vandalizing whatever property they could. I contemplated leaving the country, but it was little too late. The raving, ranting denizens of the market perpetuated my already growing paranoia, I suspected everyone to be a Bolshevik, and I was hasty to return home that day. Miles before my arrival at the cottage, I could see smoke hovering over the surrounding forest, anxiety quickly set in, and I hurried the driver. When he pulled up to the gate, I saw my home smouldering in ruin, and the surrounding barns and sheds being burned down by a handful of revolutionaries. It was once such a beautiful cottage, to one side an open range, where my horses resided, to the other a barn where farm equipment was stored. Between them both rested my home, a beautiful white structure, complimented by a gold facade. The handful of vandalizers that remained did disperse as they saw me exit my carriage and rush toward the barn. More clearly than anything else, I remember proceeding to dismounting my rifle from a rack on the wall of the barn... I took great care in disposing of the revolutionaries, firing a single bullet at each of their legs, before finishing them with one to the head. Most of them tried scattering when they saw I was armed, but to my surprise, not all of them shared a cowardly nature. The last one tackled me as I was reloading, jarring the rifle from my hands, we fell to the ground, wrestling for a time, until I finally had him pinned, I tried choking him momentarily, but he overpowered me, so I used my teeth to bite deep into his cheek. Screaming out in agony, he managed to push me back, forcing lose my grip on him. He rolled onto his belly, and crawled his way toward my rifle through the blood and mud. I grabbed his foot, dragging him toward me, until I could climb onto his back. He could not reach my rifle, and I had firmly planted myself atop his hapless body, but I still could not choke him without losing my leverage. I remember so clearly, I had forced his face into a muddied puddle of water, as hard as I could I held him there until he stopped squirming so frantically. After I felt life swarm from his body, I stood to my feet, and wandered into the woods. The black skies roared, and it began to rain heavily. It was miles before I found an old country road with a decrepit house resting to its side. I bolted through the door, slamming it against the wall. Inside it was dark, and freezing, I remember finding a torn trench on the floor and throwing it over myself as I crept through the bowels of the house. I saw a feint glimmer of light in a room at the end of a dark hallway. With all the rage burning inside me, no vagabond could strike fear in me, I queried further down the hallway. I can't remember anything after that, the next thing I remember, I was still here, in this damned hovel.” The writer was perched in the kitchen, sipping tea as he jotted down details of the past few days. “But it didn’t end there, when I awoke, I was greated by a vagabond, but one more deranged than myself. He called himself Sergei, and he became infatuated with me during my time here.”
He paused for a moment, pondering his thoughts. “As I did with him, something about his insanity intrigued me, and drew me down to his level.”
Sergei hunched over, and covered by that torn trench crept out from the shadows, and asked, “What do you write of Nikolas?”
He did not answer, nor did he console Sergei, but Sergei persisted, and took a seat; though Nikolas continued writing. “He queries me relentlessly. I cannot make him escape my thought, nor can I silence his question. His words pour into me with the unnatural essence of a demon. But no blaspheme is like that he has already committed. It was two nights ago, early in the evening, I was still weeping over the death of my wife, lying in a pool of my own sorrow. Curled in damp blankets I stared into a candle-flame, when Sergei and I heard voices coming from outside... Newlyweds, frolocking in the woods, where they thought themselves alone. We looked out of the window to see them coming toward the house, Sergei began running back and forth panting, and grunting,
‘They musn’t enter, no they musn’t!’
I grabbed his shoulder and whispered, “Calm yourself.”
But he refused to yield. He clutched my face tightly, holding my mouth, he closed the gap between our faces, and stared with a disturbing depth into my eyes "We cannot let them enter the home."
I laughed as I said 'This is hole in the wall?'
'They can have it.'
At that moment, Sergei's eyes filled red, his voice turned serpentine and it slithered into my ear carrying the word no. I vaguely remember what happened after that, but I do remember him bashing me on the head, and dragging me past the kitchen, into the bedroom.


WiP 2.
 
Level 7
Joined
Dec 26, 2010
Messages
401
I'm in, here's what I have so far.

The door was boarded, the rest of the old building was sagging and ready to collapse, a sign was nailed to one of the boards that barricaded the door.

Closed

That much was obvious, but the man lowered his armor plated shoulder, backed up several steps and charged. The impact jarred him at first but the wood was starting to rot and splintered under his weight with a loud groan and shatter, wood bounced off the floor and he hit with a heavy thud. The man stood up and brushed himself off, the lighting in the room was poor at best but he could still see everything, it was just as it once used to be. The room had a door way to the left leading into another room; to the right were stairs down and across the center of the room stairs lead up to the next floor.
The stairs down were dark and rotted, all light was absent down in this place, the fetid smell of stagnated water and long decayed corpses filled the air as well as the thick musk of time. This building hadn’t been disturbed in some time; his descent down would be slowed as the stairs might be rotted through. At the bottom of the stairs his feet reached the ground and a small amount of water which resounded with a loud splash in the silence and darkness as a memory filled his head of younger days.

“Brother, don’t do this, please. Mother and I need you here.” A young woman tugged on his arm, her jaded eyes firmly fixed on him as her auburn hair bounced with her light frame and pale skin.

He stopped a moment, gently brushing her hand off. “Sister I must, it will only get worse unless justice is delivered.”

She stormed up the stairs, shouting down as she went. “Are you sure it’s justice and not vengeance?!” The door slammed behind her and her steps echoed off the floor as she walked away.

“I will be careful… sister.” He turned back to the desk at the far corner of the room, took a letter from inside his shirt and walked to the desk, laying it down beside a vambrace that was on top of a white piece of cloth. He touched the vambrace and slowly formed a silent “forgive me” on his lips as he placed the vambrace over his left wrist and unfolded the white cloth and wrapped it around his nose and mouth, pulling his hood over his head.

Suddenly he was in the dark again, but it was not quite as dark now, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could make out some figures of objects. The mental image of the room was sharp in his mind and he walked in the darkness without trying to avoid anything, he knew now it would be as it was then. Water underfoot was barely enough to cover the entire floor, but splashed with every step. He stopped when his iron greaves struck the wood of the desk, taking a piece of flint and steel in his left hand he reached for the candle jar. He found a small chest and then the jar itself, he quickly struck the flint and steel until the wick in the candle took light and the room became illuminated in its soft glow.
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091
Had to post this.

Life and Thought have gone away
Side by side,
Leaving door and windows wide:
Careless tenants they!
All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light:
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.
Close the door, the shutters close,
Or thro' the windows we shall see
The nakedness and vacancy
Of the dark deserted house.
Come away: no more of mirth
Is here or merry-making sound.
The house was builded of the earth,
And shall fall again to ground.

-Alfred Tennyson
 
Level 19
Joined
Nov 11, 2005
Messages
391
Here's my 1st Piece of Entry...

Here's my WIP Entry;
Looking across the lush green horizon with his green eyes, the young man began to compare his life-to-be and the life he once lived through during his time in the army. Having seen enough bloodshed and death during his time as a Field Medic, he decided to retire from the army to live a peaceful life when the war is over. With his parent passed away and their fortune taken by his relatives during his service to the army, he had nowhere to go. But luck seem to have a funny way to turn a person’s life around as he received a letter several days ago stating that his belated grand-uncle has left him a will on the day he passed away.

Looking back, he wondered how long it has been since he last saw his belated grand-uncle. He used to come over to his grand-uncle’s home every year before his father sent him to a boarding school. Even after that, the young man sent letters to his uncle from time to time and received replies from him, until at some point several years later he stopped replying back. Several months after that only did the young man found out the reason his father sent him to boarding school is to separate him from his grand-uncle, who his father regarded as a ‘disgrace and shame’ to be called a family. Years go by and he was later enlisted into the army.

His thoughts came to halt as he heard the horse whines and the wagon stopped. He then turned to the old man in front the wagon and he looked back at him saying “We are at the crossroad here, young man. To the right down the road is the town you seek, and to the left is where I am going. And here is where you get off my wagon,” Slinging his bag across his body, the young man jumps off the wagon replying “Thank you for the ride, old man. You have saved me a lot of time to travel here,” The old man nodded and rode off with his wagon along with his goods.

Upon passing through the entrance gate, the young man was surprise to see how much the town of Leftover had changed since he last saw it. Walking towards a patrolling guard, the young man asked for directions to a specific building. Looking up and down of the young man, the sturdily build guard grins “You are not from around here, are you?” The young man responds “I used to come over here as a kid, before boarding school hits me,” “Once in the army, son?” questioned the middle aged guard. “Right off after boarding school until after the war,” the young man replied. Pointing his finger down the road, the guard gives the direction “Go down this road, turn to the left, and continue down until you see the power plant. Then take the right and you will find what you seek, son,”

Following the guard’s direction, the young man stopped in front of an office building with the sign ‘Alfred & Co Land Brokers’ written above the doorway. As he walks in and passes by the row of people sitting on the chairs, only the echoes of his footsteps and the sounds of a typewriter can be heard. The clerk continues to type away as the young man approaches him, and did not stop even when he had reached the front of his desk. Without looking to the young man, the clerk continues typing and questions “State your business, stranger?” “I am here to claim a land left behind by a relative of mine,” answers the young man. “Your name and the name of your deceased relative, mister...?” asked the clerk while typing. The young man replies “Raphael Springheart, grand-nephew of Samuel Shelters,”

Immediately the clerk stopped typing and everyone looked at him. Standing up, the clerk bends closer to take a look at the young man “Did you just said you are the Raphael Springheart of Samuel Shelters?” Confused as to why his identity surprises everyone, Raphael slowly answers as he narrowed his brow “Yes… I did. Is there something I should know?” “No, not really. Please take a seat and wait as I will notify Mister Shelters’ lawyer and Mister Alfred of your arrival,” respond the clerk as he points out to the row of empty chairs behind Raphael.

As minutes turned to hours, Raphael waited patiently as people continue to walk in and out from the hall, having their business settled before him. Suddenly, the clerk stood up and stretches his arm toward him as a well dressed man with a briefcase walks in “Mister Raphael Springfield has been sitting over there waiting for your arrival,” The man turn towards Raphael and greets him “Sorry for the wait, Mister Raphael. My name is Nicholas Jones and I am Samuel Shelters’ lawyer,” “The pleasure is mine, Mister Nicholas. Shall we proceed to the matter at hand?” replied the young man as they walk to the office belonging to the founder of the establishment, Alfred Fort.

Inhaling tobacco from his smoking pipe, an old man adjusts his glasses and calmly inspects the document at hand. As he read through the paper, several knocks on the door of his office is heard. “Come in!” he exclaimed and two men enters the room. “Mister Nicholas, I have been expecting you. And this young man here must be Mister Raphael Springheart, am I right?” asked the old man, Alfred Fort. “Yes, this is the man. Now, I am sure everyone is eager to settle this matter as soon as possible so let get down to business,” As the men sat down, Nicholas pulls out a document and began reading it “This is the will made by Samuel Shelters several days before his death,”

Clearing his throat, the lawyer continues “This is my last will for I Samuel Shelters have not long to live STOP My lawyer Mister Nicholas Jones will read this document at Alfred & Co Land Brokers to my grand-nephew Raphael Springheart if he were to come here at Leftover Town to claim it STOP I hereby left my property consist of my house and the compound around it along with everything I left in it with all who dwells in it to my grand-nephew Raphael Springheart STOP It may not be my right to give however if the position of Undertaker of Leftover Town is vacant I would like to pass on my duty to my grand-nephew Raphael Springheart as well if he so willing to accept them STOP,”

A moment of silence ensues after the lawyer finished reading the will. Reflecting back to what was stated in the will, Raphael was confused. With all who dwells in it? He never recalls his grand-uncle living with someone left along wealthy enough to own a servant. “Is there anyone living at my grand-uncle’s house at the moment?” asked the young man. “No, Mister Samuel was a hermit all his life. But the bigger question is will you accept both, or just the property?” replied Alfred. Raphael further enquires “Surely this town already has an Undertaker by now?” “No, ever since Mister Samuel passed away no one is willing to take his place. All this while, everyone has been hiring Undertakers from neighboring towns for their service,” answered Nicholas. The clock slowly ticks away as both men waited patiently to hear Raphael’s decision, and then he responds “I will accept the property, but I will not accept the position of Undertaker for I have seen enough death in my lifetime,”

With a relieving sigh, both men stand up and shake Raphael’s hand and congratulate him “Finally I can get this matter off my hands, even if it is just for a moment,” commented Alfred as he pass over Samuel’s Land Deed to Raphael. Is it a burden to have Samuel’s property? Raphael was puzzled by Alfred’s statement. “Well, now that this matter is settled, although we still have no Undertaker, please sign these and I will escort you to Mister Samuel’s property,” Signing the papers, Raphael was pleased to finally have somewhere to call home. “Shall we get going, Mister Raphael?” asked Nicholas and Raphael replies “Before we go, can we stopped by the cemetery? I would like to pay a visit to my grand-uncle’s grave,” Nicholas nods and leads the way.

As evening starts to set in and the light slowly loses its place in the cemetery, Raphael and Nicholas stood in front of the grave belonging to Samuel Shelters. Taking a moment of silence to respect the dead, Raphael quietly recalls all his pass memories of his grand-uncle. His thoughts was suddenly interrupted by Nicholas who reminds him “It is getting late, Mister Raphael. And the cemetery is not a place to hang around after dark. We should proceed to your property,” Raphael nods at took a last glance at Samuel’s headstone before departing to his property.

It was late evening when the men arrived at the compound of an old house situated at the edge of town. “I have done my part to lead you here, Mister Raphael. You may explore this building to your content as I return to my home,” said the lawyer. Before Raphael manages to thank the lawyer, Nicholas was already walking his way home in a hurry. The young man shrugs his shoulders before turning around to look at his newly acquired home, the home he once visited yearly, the home once belong to his grand-uncle. How long has it been since the young man last saw this building? The young man asked himself this question as he inspects the exterior part of the house.

With weeds growing tall in the compound and the wooden fence decaying by lack of maintenance, the single story building had seen better days. Opening the door to his new home, Raphael is blown by the unpleasant smell emitting from the inside of his so called home. He quickly opens all the doors and windows in the house before running out into the compound, hoping the smell would subside by the open ventilation as he catches his breath. Minutes later he tried to approach the door again but the smell remains strong, and as darkness is approaching he went in to flips the switch comes out, and the house is lit with electricity.. He then sat at the porch stairway to rest.

Raphael’s eyes quickly became wide open as the rooster crows in the morning, and pain starts to shoot up into his body as he bends up from the porch stairway he slept. Suddenly a familiar voice called out to him “So you are still here. Heard any strange noises while you are asleep?” “I know you from before, you are the patrol guard I meet yesterday. I did not catch you name,” answered the young man as he faced the middle aged guard. Walking into the compound, the guard introduce himself “The name is Rupert Hunt. So did you hear any noises while you were asleep? ” Loosening himself up as he yawns, Raphael replies “Nice to know your name, and no I have not heard any noise besides the crickets singing since I slept outside here the whole night yesterday. May I know what is this all about?”

Rupert glances around before answering “There was once a Robert Springheart who came here before you a year ago,” Immediately Raphael respond “That would be my cousin, who took may parent’s fortune and property, while leave me with nothing,” The guard points at Rupert’s home and continues “Apparently he came here trying to claim that building after Mister Samuel pass away, but the lawyer and the land broker refuse to hand over the ownership. He then slept in that house for just one night before he gave up his attempt, claiming he hear strange noises during the night,”
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091

A Hole in the Wall

"My wife died long ago... My weary mind cannot remember the exact date, no, not even the year, but I remember it as well as I possibly can. The sky was black that day, and it was before the revolution, but not long before. I had gone to the market district that afternoon, whilst she remained at the cottage. There was rioting at the factories. I recall the paper, a wealthy landowner was stabbed and robbed, down to his last strip of clothing. The people expressed their scorn for the upper class, and with their violent expression many people died... In the streets revolunaries flocked together, vandalizing whatever property they could. I contemplated leaving the country, but it was little too late. The raving, ranting denizens of the market perpetuated my already growing paranoia, I suspected everyone to be a Bolshevik, and I was hasty to return home that day. Though not hasty enough it would seem; miles before my arrival at the cottage, I could see smoke hovering over the surrounding forest, anxiety quickly set in, and I hurried the driver. When he pulled up to the gate, I saw my home smouldering in ruin, and the surrounding barns and sheds being burned down by a handful of vandals. It was once such a magnificent manifestation of industry and nature, coalescing with one another. To one side an open range, where my horses resided, to the other a barn where farm equipment was stored. Between them both rested my home, an attractive white abode, complimented by a decorative gold facade. The handful of vandals that remained did disperse as they saw me exit my carriage, but not all fleeted from the scene. More clearly than anything else, I remember dismounting my rifle from a rack on the wall of the barn and taking great care in disposing of the revolutionaries, firing a single bullet at each of their legs, before finishing them with one to the head. Most of them tried scattering when they discovered I was armed, but to my surprise, not all of them shared a craven nature. After my rampage, only one of them remained, he did not flee like the others he tackled me as I was reloading, jarring the rifle from my hands, and forcing us both to the ground. We wrestled for a time, until I finally gained leverage and had him pinned; I tried choking him momentarily, but he overpowered me, so I used my teeth to bite into his cheek. Screaming out in agony, he managed to push me back, forcing loose my grip on him. He rolled onto his belly, and crawled his way toward my rifle through blood and mud. I grabbed his foot, dragging him toward me, until I could climb onto his back. He could not reach my rifle, and I had firmly planted myself atop him, nearly helpless was he, but I still could not choke him without losing my leverage. It is clear what happened next, I had forced his face into a muddied puddle of water, as hard as I could I held him there until he stopped squirming. I could feel the skin from his shaven head peeling under my dull nails. After I felt life fleet from his now colding corpse, I stood to my feet. I was lost in my anguish, a future without my beloved did not exist to me at the time. I wandered into the woods. fearless of the blackened, roaring skies. It began to rain heavily as I trekked the dense forest. I could not beg for death more enthusiastically, but sense took hold of me when I found an old country road with a decrepit house resting to its side. I ran through a muddy clearing to the door of the house and carefully wedged it open, leaving a high-pitch creak as it revolved by its hinges. Inside it was dark, tepid, and dank. I had found a torn trench on the floor and thrown it over myself as I crept through the bowels of the house. From the den, a feint glimmer of light could be seen stretching down a connected hallway. With all the rage burning inside me, no vagabond could strike fear in me, I queried further down the hallway. As I entered the kitchen, I saw a candle sitting idly on a wooden table. It had a broken leg, under which a cement block was placed ever so neatly. Steadfast, I surveyed the room for life, aside from the toiling flame, it was as barren as the forest from which I arrived. In that moment, as I gazed upon the kitchen, a warm breeze swept across my neck, and a hand reached over me. From there, I cannot recollect further.” The writer, perched in the kitchen, sipped tea as he rolled his inkpen across a discolored parchment. “But the eerie feeling did not end there, when I awoke, I was greated by a wandering soul, but one more deranged than myself. He called himself Sergei, and became infatuated with me during my time here.”
He paused for a moment, pondering his thoughts. “As I did with him, something about his insanity intrigued me, and drew me down to his level.”
Sergei hunched over, and covered by that torn trench crept out from the shadows, and asked, “What do you write of Nikolas?”
He did not answer, nor did he console Sergei, but Sergei persisted, and took a seat; though Nikolas continued writing. “He queries me relentlessly. I cannot make him escape my thought, nor can I silence his question. His words pour into me with the unnatural essence of a demon. But no blaspheme is like that he has already committed. It was two nights ago, early in the evening, I was still weeping over the death of my wife, lying in a pool of my own sorrow. Curled in damp blankets I stared into a candle-flame, when Sergei and I heard voices coming from outside... Newlyweds, frolocking in the woods, where they thought themselves alone. We looked out of the window to see them coming toward the house, Sergei began running back and forth panting, and grunting,
‘They musn’t enter, no they musn’t!’
I grabbed his shoulder and whispered, “Calm yourself.”
But he refused to yield. He clutched my face tightly, holding my mouth, he closed the gap between our faces, and stared with a disturbing depth into my eyes "We cannot let them enter the home."
I laughed as I said 'This is a hole in the wall... Not a home'
At that moment, Sergei's eyes filled red, he strengthened ten fold, and threw me to the ground, a clutched my ankles, dragging me across the floor through the hall, past the kitchen, and into the bedroom. He bashed me unconscious on the floor of the room, when I awoke, I was dazed, as I observed raindrops crawling down the walls, from the pierced the ceiling, to the moldy wooden floors.


Another WiP, mostly aesthetic improvements.
 
This looks interesting. I've never entered into any of the contests before; this will be my first. But I think I'll start contributing; I'm considering entering into two of the other contests that are running currently as well.

I haven't written anything other than the occasional essay for school, but I suppose I'll see whether or not I have any talent at writing actual stories. I'd always wished we'd be assigned actual stories to write, rather than essays.

Here's my WIP. Don't be too hard on it; I'm new to writing, and I only decided to join about twenty minutes ago; this is a quick draft, and I am nowhere near done writing.

I sat back down in the chair next to my ledger on the table and took sip of the mead I’d just poured. None of it made any sense. How could the grain of the farms be black throughout their northern areas, but remain thriving throughout the rest of the same farms? We’d never had anything like this happen before.

It started to rain. Thankfully; maybe that can help their crops, I thought. I put my mug down, and stepped to the side. First I glanced again at the map of the village to the north and its farmland. Then I peered out of the window, as though I could find the answer to all of these problems by looking southward where the window had aimed. I couldn’t see anything; the night was too dark.

It’d always been that all of the grain had the same level of success, or failure in some cases. When we had a drought, it had affected all of the farms. And yet I’d seen the land of every farmer in that town to the north, and they’d all turned black as they grew northward. I gave up on trying to find the answer in a dark night outside the window which aimed in the opposite direction of the problem, and sat back down at the table. I must have returned too quickly; a candle went out. I lit it again with another candle, and paused for a moment in the light of the flame as it dashed about.

I took another sip from my mug. The mead tasted as good as it always had. It was made by a friend who owned a farm to the south. The grain was fresh, and the honey was sweet, mixing into his own unique flavor of mead, with a similar bitter taste that people westward enjoy in their beer, while at the same time tasting sweet as the mead to the east. It’s good to know he fares well through this agricultural anomaly. I hope my friend in the village to the north passes through unharmed as well.

The sound of distant thunder reached my cabin. As though responding to the whip of a master, the rain picked up its pace. I hoped the rain would stay at its current pace; any heavier and it could damage the people’s crops.

I looked again at the map, at the farms to the north. As I had gone to each and every farm owned by people in that village, I had drawn the point at which the grain turned black, on the map. It looked as though a boundary had been drawn, and any crop to the north of it produced black grain; even as the imaginary boundary cut through the middle of farms.

A knock sounded on the door. As I moved to answer it, I shouted “Whose presence am I given at this time of night?”

“It’s John! I’m back from the exploration to the east, and I figured I’d pay a visit to a dear old friend!”

“Why, John, it’s really you? I saw a few of the others return. None of them felt like speaking; they were all so worn out. I couldn't even get anyone to tell me who else had come back. Come out of the rain, and tell me what happened out there!”

“Well,” he began, as he entered, and I shut the door behind him. “I expected to find new lands filled with resources, possibly even treasures we’d never seen before.” He paused as I poured him a mug of mead. “As we traveled west, we found mostly the same we’d seen here. For weeks we traveled across the sea, and we battled hard to keep our boat afloat against the storm. The storm over that sea was so powerful that at times we were sure we would sink before we ever reached land. We didn’t know how long we would be out there; nobody had ever reached any mainland out there; only the occasional island. Those who ventured either never came back, or returned before reaching another land but an island.”

“Let us sit down, my friend, while you tell me the rest,” I suggested. We both sat and took a few sips of our mead, and then he continued.


I've already fixed a few things since then; don't judge me based on the occasional phrase which may not make the best grammatical sense, as whatever you've seen has probably already been fixed by myself; I'm just not going to bother updating this WIP every time I change something.
 
Level 22
Joined
Jul 25, 2009
Messages
3,091

A Hole in the Wall

"My wife died long ago... My weary mind cannot remember the exact date, no, not even the year, but I remember it as well as I possibly can. The sky was black that day, and it was before the revolution, but not long before. I had gone to the market district that afternoon, whilst she remained at the cottage. There was rioting at the factories. I recall the paper, a wealthy landowner was stabbed and robbed, down to his last strip of clothing. The people expressed their scorn for the upper class, and with their violent expression many people died... In the streets revolunaries flocked together, vandalizing whatever property they could. I contemplated leaving the country, but it was little too late. The raving, ranting denizens of the market perpetuated my already growing paranoia, I suspected everyone to be a Bolshevik, and I was hasty to return home that day. Though not hasty enough it would seem; miles before my arrival at the cottage, I could see smoke hovering over the surrounding forest, anxiety quickly set in, and I hurried the driver. When he pulled up to the gate, I saw my home smouldering in ruin, and the surrounding barns and sheds being burned down by a handful of vandals. It was once such a magnificent manifestation of industry and nature, coalescing with one another. To one side an open range, where my horses resided, to the other a barn where farm equipment was stored. Between them both rested my home, an attractive white abode, complimented by a decorative gold facade. The handful of vandals that remained did disperse as they saw me exit my carriage, but not all fleeted from the scene. More clearly than anything else, I remember dismounting my rifle from a rack on the wall of the barn and taking great care in disposing of the revolutionaries, firing a single bullet at each of their legs, before finishing them with one to the head. Most of them tried scattering when they discovered I was armed, but to my surprise, not all of them shared a craven nature. After my rampage, only one of them remained, he did not flee like the others he tackled me as I was reloading, jarring the rifle from my hands, and forcing us both to the ground. We wrestled for a time, until I finally gained leverage and had him pinned; I tried choking him momentarily, but he overpowered me, so I used my teeth to bite into his cheek. Screaming out in agony, he managed to push me back, forcing loose my grip on him. He rolled onto his belly, and crawled his way toward my rifle through blood and mud. I grabbed his foot, dragging him toward me, until I could climb onto his back. He could not reach my rifle, and I had firmly planted myself atop him, nearly helpless was he, but I still could not choke him without losing my leverage. It is clear what happened next, I had forced his face into a muddied puddle of water, as hard as I could I held him there until he stopped squirming. I could feel the skin from his shaven head peeling under my dull nails. After I felt life fleet from his now colding corpse, I stood to my feet. I was lost in my anguish, a future without my beloved did not exist to me at the time. I wandered into the woods. fearless of the blackened, roaring skies. It began to rain heavily as I trekked the dense forest. I could not beg for death more enthusiastically, but sense took hold of me when I found an old country road with a decrepit house resting to its side. I ran through a muddy clearing to the door of the house and carefully wedged it open, leaving a high-pitch creak as it revolved by its hinges. Inside it was dark, tepid, and dank. I had found a torn trench on the floor and thrown it over myself as I crept through the bowels of the house. From the den, a feint glimmer of light could be seen stretching down a connected hallway. With all the rage burning inside me, no vagabond could strike fear in me, I queried further down the hallway. As I entered the kitchen, I saw a candle sitting idly on a wooden table. It had a broken leg, under which a cement block was placed ever so neatly. Steadfast, I surveyed the room for life, aside from the toiling flame, it was as barren as the forest from which I arrived. In that moment, as I gazed upon the kitchen, a warm breeze swept across my neck, and a hand reached over me. From there, I cannot recollect further.” The writer, perched in the kitchen, sipped tea as he rolled his inkpen across a discolored parchment. “But the eerie feeling did not end there, when I awoke, I was greated by a wandering soul, but one more deranged than myself. He called himself Sergei, and became infatuated with me during my time here.”
He paused for a moment, pondering his thoughts. “As I did with him, something about his insanity intrigued me, and drew me down to his level.”
Sergei hunched over, and covered by that torn trench crept out from the shadows, and asked, “What do you write of Nikolas?”
He did not answer, nor did he console Sergei, but Sergei persisted, and took a seat; though Nikolas continued writing. “He queries me relentlessly. I cannot make him escape my thought, nor can I silence his question. His words pour into me with the unnatural essence of a demon. But no blaspheme is like that he has already committed. It was two nights ago, early in the evening, I was still weeping over the death of my wife, lying in a pool of my own sorrow. Curled in damp blankets I stared into a candle-flame for hours until Sergei and I heard voices coming from outside... Newlyweds, frolocking in the woods, where they thought themselves alone. We looked out of the window to see them coming toward the house, Sergei began running back and forth panting, and grunting,
‘They musn’t enter, no they musn’t!’
I grabbed his shoulder and whispered, “Calm yourself.”
But he refused to yield. He clutched my face tightly, holding my mouth, he closed the gap between our faces, and stared with a disturbing depth into my eyes "We cannot let them enter the home."
I laughed as I said 'This is hole in the wall... Is not a home'
At that moment, Sergei's eyes filled red, he strengthened ten fold, and threw me to the ground, a clutched my ankles, dragging me across the floor through the hall, past the kitchen, and into the bedroom. He bashed me unconscious on the floor of the room, when I awoke, I was dazed, as I observed raindrops crawling down the walls, from the pierced the ceiling, to the moldy wooden floors. I pulled myself to stand, using the rotting bedframe as leverage. Still in awe at the violent passion possessed by Sergei. As I trembled through the kitchen, weak from malnutrition, I noticed blood, stretched across the floorboards, fresh blood. Footprints of my size left, scattered about the room. When I entered the den, Sergei greated me,
'So sleepy, Mr. Nikolas.' he said.
In the den I noticed two slumps, under those old blankets I once curled inside, daft in blood. I resigned my intuition to ask,
'What have you done?'
He snickered and turned away to look upon those two lumpy blankets,
'They musn't enter I said... but you didn't listen to Sergei.'
I walked over to the blankets, pushing Sergei aside, and peeled back the veil, revealing two dead newlyweds, hand-in-hand, basked in their own blood, their necks slit from ear to ear. I filled with anger, fear, and dismay, the culmination of mixed feelings was too much for me, and I broke down. I grabbed Sergei and began strangling him, but he was not there, he disappeared from my clutches, and I fell to the ground, staring upon my brazen hands, soaked in red. Sergei never existed, my insanity is perpetually worse than anything I ever expected. A crime against the innocence of humanity, one I never intended, and one I will never commit again. Perhaps the afterlife does exist, maybe I will see her there, with her arms, extended to me, above me, purest of existences. This will be the last entry of Nikolas Corsev, Nov 19. 1916."


Final entry, may be subject to revision.

Only 1,439 words, I couldn't see myself stretching it out any longer, it's just not as sharp that way. Though it's intended as a story of loss and morality.
 
Level 19
Joined
Jan 22, 2011
Messages
3,972
Its time for deep reveal of mistery in chapter 5 and final for those options that weren´t finished...
Wondering were i was? thinking of how too finish these.


Paillan's entry
[tr]

Not going to explain it all BUMP.
really, well you don´t remember who you are, and you may provoke some thinks depending on your actions, for those who see this, please seach for older issues, since this is interactive, and you have the choice over it.

First Election

Get the blade

Leave it there

Unexpected tab 4

Please choose one of the possibilities above
You decide too get the blade, but them a demon emerges from it- Too late, my servant- you fight against him, but he is too strong, darkness covers your eyes- is this the end?-you think, them, you see a light, and the demon screams-not this time, impure-an unknow voice says, them you fall unconscious. You wake up hours later, you don´t remember anything, what happens? darkness covers your eyes,but you feel that life hasn´t abandom you, yet. You will be inprisoned here, for ever- a voice says- you don´t are able too say nothing. you are now inmortal- the voice says- i hope you like too be here for eternity, forgotten- them the voice stops talking, and you stay there, without moving.
END?!!! yeah end...
You decide too leave the blade there, and you teleport again, far away, you star a ritual of redemption, after 50 years, you feel all your impureness gone away, you concentrate the rest of your life too keep meditating, and one day, a bit before dying, you discover the way how this world and its powers work.
Good end 2
[/tab]
 
Level 19
Joined
Mar 16, 2009
Messages
3,681
WIP.

The Tower of Self

And lo, there a tower stood before him, as had been foretold. It was a great white, ivory tower that reached into the heavens, into the clouds themselves, unparalleled in length by the whole wide world, even! It reached so far that none could see the top. Those who would try to brave it would be shaken off by this length, but he knew it was a trick to spare the weak from itself. He was not weak. He was not weak. Weakness was a trait he needed to despise and it was a trait he had tried to drive out of him. He stood before the Tower now. No, not the Tower, but the Chance. Here, he stood before a chance, one that he could only take once.

The man stood there, before it, not as the prince he was, unfortunately, but as a poor desert dweller. His clothes were ragged and torn, his head was covered with a hood that was falling apart, he was only standing with the help of a stick. One could not see the difference now between the former proud prince and an ordinary desert nomad. And what was different between them now, truly? He was but a man, the desert nomad was but a man. Yet, he stood here where none had went with success. He would not be just a man, no, that he had convinced himself. Though his men had died in the deserts, he pressed on. Though his guides eventually returned or died of thirst, he pressed on. His determination had been driving him forward, where others would turn back. And he had triumphed. Here he stood.

A few more steps, the proud prince thought. And thus he went forward, once more, his muscles weakening with every step and his stomach crying out for food. Yet, he went forward, driven by the stubbornness of man. And finally, he stood before the golden doors of the Tower, and he cried out in triumph. He leaned forward and pushed the doors open, who were surprisingly light. And no longer was he in the desert, no longer. The proud prince had been seized by powers above him, as he had wanted. He was overtaken by darkness.
The prince awoke after what had seemed an eternity, even in his slumber.

He laid on a stone ground, motionless. His eyes were stuck staring at the ceiling and he could not move for a moment. His clothes were no longer the ones of the desert, no, his clothes were of that of a prince, of a king, of an emperor. And finally, he could move once more, as if invisible shackles had been released. He stood up and looked around and what he saw left him in bewonderment. He saw around him, a palace worthy of the gods. In the middle was the tower, once more, this time not in a desert but in a palace, going through the roof. Exotic women walked around and bowed for him, fountains sprayed liquid gold and many trees stood in this palace, all tall and mighty. The paths were made out of white tiles and the buildings, majestic and mighty, were also made of white stone. And in the midst of it all, it was him. The exotic women that had been walking around stopped and smiled at him, bowing. Suddenly he felt a bed behind him and one of the women walked up to him, pressing him on it and laying down next to him. It was comfortable, peaceful, soothing. It was his home, it was a place he had longed for. Another woman poured nectar into his mouth and he felt sleepy. He had forgotten his goal He.. had forgotten his goal. He tried to get up but another woman kept him down with a kiss. His resistance was flowing away, and he accepted he was content. There was no reason to pursue his goal, none. He became involved in a kissing match and snuck a hand into the shirt of the woman. He found nothing to grope, he found absolutely nothing. She was hollow. She had no content, no meaning. Is this what he had to settle for? A life with no meaning, a life with merely being content? No, he knew he didn’t need to settle. He had come here for a far higher reward. Though the risks were higher, he would not let himself be stopped by this. He softly pressed the woman away and stood up, his clothes changing into the ones he had worn into the desert. He was no longer the king of this place, no. The women wailed at the sight of the proud prince, now not better than a fool. They wailed and threw rocks at him, disgusted at his presence among them, goddesses of beauty, while some begged he would not leave them. He would have to suffer, he knew that, but he was prepared to, for what he had come for. He felt regret leaving this place. Nonetheless, the proud prince walked away and into the same door he had entered a while ago, in the desert. He would not settle, he would press on, always, forever.

 
Level 7
Joined
Dec 26, 2010
Messages
401
Wonderful entries!

Here is what I believe to be the finished version of mine.

The door was boarded, the rest of the old building was sagging and ready to collapse. A sign was nailed to one of the boards that barricaded the door.

Closed

That much was obvious, but the man lowered his armor plated shoulder, backed up several steps and charged. The impact jarred him at first but the wood was starting to rot and splintered under his weight with a loud groan and shatter; wood bounced off the floor and he hit with a heavy thud. The man stood up and brushed himself off. The lighting in the room was poor at best but he could still see everything; it was just as it once used to be. The room had a doorway to the left leading into another room; to the right were stairs down, and across the center of the room stairs lead up to the next floor.



The stairs down were dark and rotted, all light was absent down in this place. The fetid smell of stagnated water and long decayed corpses filled the air as well as the thick musk of time. This building hadn’t been disturbed in some time; his descent down would be slowed as the stairs might be rotted through. A splashing of water assured him his feet had reached the bottom of the stairs as the fetid smell rose, but the man was oblivious to it as a memory washed over him.


“Brother, don’t do this, please. Mother and I need you here.” A young woman tugged on his arm, her jaded eyes firmly fixed on him as her auburn hair bounced with her light frame and pale skin.

He stopped a moment, gently brushing her hand off. “Sister I must, it will only get worse unless justice is delivered.”

She stormed up the stairs, shouting down as she went. “Are you sure it’s justice and not vengeance?!” The door slammed behind her and her steps echoed off the floor as she walked away.

“I will be careful… sister.” He turned back to the desk at the far corner of the room, took a letter from inside his shirt and walked to the desk, laying it down beside a vambrace that was on top of a white piece of cloth. He touched the vambrace and slowly formed a silent “forgive me” on his lips as he placed the vambrace over his left wrist and unfolded the white cloth and wrapped it around his nose and mouth, pulling his hood over his head.


Suddenly he was in the dark again, but it was not quite as dark now. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could make out some figures of objects. The mental image of the room was sharp in his mind and he walked in the darkness without trying to avoid anything, he knew now it would be as it was then. Water underfoot was barely enough to cover the entire floor, but splashed with every step. He stopped when his iron greaves struck the wood of the desk. Taking a piece of flint and steel in his left hand he reached for the candle jar. He found a small chest and then the jar itself; he quickly struck the flint and steel until the wick in the candle took light and the room became illuminated in its soft glow. There was a second letter; it was recent. He picked it up and recognized his sister’s handwriting right away.

Brother,
Much has changed since you left, the situation has gotten much worse, and we were taken from the home, mother and I have been tortured… I managed to escape but I fear she will not survive. If you ever find this letter, dear brother, I will be in the room behind the kitchen in the Silverfish Inn. I know you will come for us, we still believe in you.
- Eileen



He crumpled the letter in his fist as his eyes filled with hatred and anger, he tossed the letter onto the candle and watched it blaze up and die out with a brilliant light and the dull glow of the candle resumed. He turned to walk out slowly, his pace quickening with each step, the force of his feet hitting the ground echoing off the walls. At the top of the stairs as he walked into the main room he heard a door close at the other end of the house. He entered the room that was to the left of the entrance, the door to the far end of that was half open. Behind him he heard the sound of boots scuffing on the floor; a presence closed in behind him.


Time seemed to go very slowly as he drew his sword, spinning around to parry the leaping attacker’s blade. The sounds of many others closed in around him and the house came alive with the footsteps of assassins. He thrust his blade into the back of the first attacker and prayed.


“Dear father, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this from happening… give me the strength to win this and the guidance to free mother and sister, watch over me please.” He flashed his sword in one swift stroke to cut down the next attacker, shouting out into the darkness of the house. “How many more are there!? I suggest you get more!” He jumped back, avoiding another, driving his sword through the man’s back and pinning him into the floor, quickly drawing two daggers and pressing his attack on.


He flashed back into another memory as he cut his attackers down one by one, putting them on the defensive as he drove them from the house.


“My dearest son, a man measures his integrity not by what he believes he can do, but what he actually does. To be a true protector, you must sharpen your mind to be one step ahead of your enemies and be strong with your sword and shield to ward off any who would threaten those you love.” He handed his sword to his son, who eagerly took it and made an awkward swing with it. It was heavy back then.


Now he wielded it with ease, parrying an attack from in front, dodging the attack from the side and driving a dagger into a third, quickly pulling it out from him and throwing it into one running in through the door. “I won’t give up, father!” He said under his breath, driving his foot into a man and sending him out the window. The remaining men began to scatter; one was cut down in the doorway with a grunt that came from a woman.


“Maithias… You came back.” The woman was wearing heavy leather armor, her hood concealing her hair and face. She rushed to him; he had been hit but not noticed it as blood rushed from his side. Corpses lined the floor as a dozen attackers lay slain.


“Eileen, sister… you’re safe, how is mother?” He clutched his side and dropped to one knee, breathing heavily.


“She… didn’t survive…” Her eyes began to tear up but he pulled her down and hugged her tightly.


“I’m sorry… I wasn’t here for you, it’s my fault.”


She wrapped her arms around him and began crying. “No, you said you’d protect me, remember?”


Another memory engulfed him; he was young again, a man grown of seven past ten, his sister was hugging to him tightly as he stood, bruised and bloody but three other men lie on the ground unconscious.
“Sister, I will always be here to protect you, I will fight through Heaven and Hell and no god, not in this world or another, will stop me.” He hugged her tightly, limping away, his sister crying heavily, her clothes torn from the men.


A faint smile formed on his lips in the darkness of the house as she cried softly in his arms. “I remember…”
 
Last edited:
Level 17
Joined
Apr 3, 2010
Messages
1,101

The icy glade glimmered in the sunlight; a beacon of warmth and hope to the snowy tundra. The Willow stood there in the snow like a monolith of memories. I stood in front of the willow legs slightly apart and arms out-stretched. I bowed, and so it began. I twirled around the Willow, encircling it with merriment. Soft and slowly I began the dance, but the acceleration had not already begun. The tune of my heart beat faster and faster, my turns became more erratic, as yet the distance dreams of snow filled me once more with a euphoria such that I have never experienced so fully before. The reverberation of life fleeted across the glade as the snow floated to the ground around me. I dashed and pranced around the beautiful tree, as it gave me yet more energy and joy. My memory blurred and my thoughts broke, the ceremonial dance became instinct as I whirled even faster to the Winter tune. A crescendo picked up. as I saw my scarf tossing and turning around me, drawing lines of joy around me. I felt like the sun was inside of me giving its warmth. Like a thousand souls were singing the tune so clearly that I could hear it. The energy was become to great for my body to bear, it would not leave me fast enough, however my joy only grew. The final crescendo was hit as the peak of the dance arose. I lifted my arms to embrace the sky and looked up into the great ocean above. I saw great stream of red, blue, green zapping across the sky in a tremendous display of power and pulchritude. The embers of my ancestors glowing so brightly as they danced up above in the great sky. The Willow seemed to glow a beam of light into the sky projecting the spirits outwards.
Yet more turns I made around the tree of memories as peace set into me. The dance began to slow after a soft decrescendo. My heart slowed and the wind lifted me up like a bird. I hovered around the willow like a sprite casting a spell. A rallentando began as birds flocked around the silver storm that had been waked. Snowy streams fluttered around me as the breeze became gentle. The energy began to die, but the pleasure that filled my body stayed. As my breath was given to the air, the vapour soared upwards. Rising like a bird free to fly in this snowy setting. My last twirl began as I returned to my original point pirouetting, in the gay glade. My gaiety was immeasurable so much so was my mirth. One final spin- and so the dance ended.


My surroundings began to fade, the snow blurred as my memory died. Happiness fled me as darkness embraced. The tree began to collapse, yet with greater haste, it twisted on its stump and tumbled towards me. The monolith of my memories fell to my demise, but the illusion shattered into thousands of pieces. Like a mirror falling through a void, with each shard giving only a tiny detail of what had been pictured. The place that I had so loved and dreamed of vanished, leaving no trace that I had ever been there or that it had ever existed.
A beam of lighted flashed into my vision and then darkness ensued.

I woke......

The morning air allured me awake with its sweet scent. My eyes fluttered open as the gaze of the great sun fluttered across my brow. Warmth fluctuated across my body as energy ran through my body with celerity, calling my muscles awake. My bed felt so comfortable and so soft that I could sleep for hours; yet the morning beckoned me to rise from my abode. I tasted the sweet scent of my fragrant dreams for one last moment, however an insatiable void still stood choking me as if something was missing, before I rose. The covers slipped from my body and i began to dress.
The stairs were a simple bound and leap, before I was already into the Kitchen. The sun flooded through the windows lighting up my life, as i danced around throwing open the cupboards hurling the ingredients onto the island and began to prepare banana pancakes.
 
Last edited:
Level 30
Joined
Jan 31, 2010
Messages
3,551
Paillan, I think you should write a simple story. Thought the Interactive one with multiple entries is a great idea, I don't think it's acceptable. Oh, and try to slow down the pace a little, it seems like I'm reading the shortest explanation of happenings ever. Use attributes and describe the environment, the scene, characters and what they feel and do.
 
Level 6
Joined
Jan 22, 2012
Messages
198
Yaaay finally i might join a contest! hehe
But i need a picture to inspire me first, hopefully i will find one that makes me wanna write the whole thing in one run, thats most likely the only way i will be able to submit a complete "product" ;P
I'll read the wips tomorrow and try to draw some inspiration from that aswell, if anyone got a picture of a building they think could have a cool background story, but don't feel like writing a story themselves don't hesitate to PM/VM me :)
 
Level 19
Joined
Jan 22, 2011
Messages
3,972
Nobody had say my that interactive wasn´t legal, o well.

This is the story of how a nice and powerfull creature know as Hulias, transformed into the most powerfull enemy that azeroth ever met, Sargeras, the titan of destruction.
Long ago, in a world far away from azeroth, there was a place called, the dimensional vortex, were the algelas lived.
Algelas were a gently race, that look like night elves whit wings and tails, and were extremly powerfull, but they used his powers for the light.

Them things changed.
It was the day the Algelas decided too stop wandering the empty and dark place the dimensional vortex was, and fused their powers too change that world.
Vondaria was born that day. It was a beautiful world, but there was no life, just like grass and nothing more, since the Algelas didn´t now any creature, so they decided too send young people too explore other worlds and bring the things they find too Vondaria.
Eons later, Hulias was born, and he was some years later send too a undiscovered place from the dimension.
He arrived the world of Pits fall, from were demons originally apeared much later.
He saw it was most destroyed and nothing too see, so he wanted too return when he found a strange building.
It was Lreally big, the door was at least 6 times bigger than him, he decided too enter.
He saw it look like an abandomed temple, whit broken statues off unknow divinities that were quite like his race, but he nowed that no one had gone there before form his brothers and sisters, so meaby it was yust a coincidence. He keep entering, when he finally arrived a circular place that look like time hadn´t affected it. There was a throne, but it was not empty.
The was a woman there, that was really beautifull, even than it was obius that she had been eons there.
He said something, thinking that she was dead, but for his surprise she was alive, and her face had a expression of pain.
He asked her what had happened her, she answer,-they made this world, but they died, i am the last of the family- he sudenly remembered a story of a group of Angelas that were against changing the dimension were they was and they exile themself too an unknow place.
So he know that this woman was the last one off that long generation.
HE asked her if she wanted him too take her too the his world, but he just said-the elders leaved something hidden, but if i try too get it, i will die, its the key too repair the world-Hulias understanded that she wanted him too get it. Undecided at first, he finally agreed after seing the face of piety she had. He entered the place she said, and found a strange eye like thing, that was there levitating. He moved close too it and touched it.
He felt inmediatly a great power, he wanted too get back, but it was too late, the shadows consumed him.
He emerged as the demon he was from there until his dead, and transfomred the young women into the demon´s mother.
Together, they rised the world of Vondaria, killed any one that may resist, and made a demon from those who wanted too live and join the new order..
And so, the whip was created, which only objective was too absorb the powers that a world could have in it.

Hope you like this one
 
Level 17
Joined
Apr 3, 2010
Messages
1,101
Nobody had say my that interactive wasn´t legal, o well.

This is the story of how a nice and powerfull creature know as Hulias, transformed into the most powerfull enemy that azeroth ever met, Sargeras, the titan of destruction.
Long ago, in a world far away from azeroth, there was a place called, the dimensional vortex, were the algelas lived.
Algelas were a gently race, that look like night elves whit wings and tails, and were extremly powerfull, but they used his powers for the light.

Them things changed.
It was the day the Algelas decided too stop wandering the empty and dark place the dimensional vortex was, and fused their powers too change that world.
Vondaria was born that day. It was a beautiful world, but there was no life, just like grass and nothing more, since the Algelas didn´t now any creature, so they decided too send young people too explore other worlds and bring the things they find too Vondaria.
Eons later, Hulias was born, and he was some years later send too a undiscovered place from the dimension.
He arrived the world of Pits fall, from were demons originally apeared much later.
He saw it was most destroyed and nothing too see, so he wanted too return when he found a strange building.
It was Lreally big, the door was at least 6 times bigger than him, he decided too enter.
He saw it look like an abandomed temple, whit broken statues off unknow divinities that were quite like his race, but he nowed that no one had gone there before form his brothers and sisters, so meaby it was yust a coincidence. He keep entering, when he finally arrived a circular place that look like time hadn´t affected it. There was a throne, but it was not empty.
The was a woman there, that was really beautifull, even than it was obius that she had been eons there.
He said something, thinking that she was dead, but for his surprise she was alive, and her face had a expression of pain.
He asked her what had happened her, she answer,-they made this world, but they died, i am the last of the family- he sudenly remembered a story of a group of Angelas that were against changing the dimension were they was and they exile themself too an unknow place.
So he know that this woman was the last one off that long generation.
HE asked her if she wanted him too take her too the his world, but he just said-the elders leaved something hidden, but if i try too get it, i will die, its the key too repair the world-Hulias understanded that she wanted him too get it. Undecided at first, he finally agreed after seing the face of piety she had. He entered the place she said, and found a strange eye like thing, that was there levitating. He moved close too it and touched it.
He felt inmediatly a great power, he wanted too get back, but it was too late, the shadows consumed him.
He emerged as the demon he was from there until his dead, and transfomred the young women into the demon´s mother.
Together, they rised the world of Vondaria, killed any one that may resist, and made a demon from those who wanted too live and join the new order..
And so, the whip was created, which only objective was too absorb the powers that a world could have in it.

Hope you like this one

I told you right at the start. :L Its fine to do an interactive one, but when it comes to the final one you will need a lengthy piece of script instead of 9000 possible scripts.
You need 1 lengthy passage which would effectively be a story the same as everyone else has done.
This means that the interactive one cannot be submitted but instead you could take sections from it and patch it together if you so wish. But it was never advisable to do this.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top