Hare-raising Tales

[Shade Muen]

In the spirit of Fall Fest coming up we offer this little scary story contest thingy *grins*

We would like a scary story written on one of the following topics. The story has to be 500 words, and yes they will be counted by the two judges *nods*


Topics:

1.Invaders of the Desert tombs
2. The Legend of the Poultry farm
3. Who took the hens head
4. Under the wall...

Everything written in the story has to have to do with Valorn, so no guns and so on allowed.

Prizes:


1.Invasion Ingot
2. Treasure box
3. 1000 plat + 5000 potions


No alts of the bunnies or the bunnies is allowed to enter *raises eyebrow*


CLOSING DATE: 2 November 2009

Any questions... http://www.darkgrimoire.com/cshow76728.Shade+Muen.html

[Leila_Silvermayne]

We would like a scary story written on one of the following topics. The story has to be 500 words, and yes they will be counted by the two judges *nods*

Just making sure here, as it would be the sort of devious thing I might think of doing.

By this statement, do you mean 500 words exactly, or a minimum of 500 words, or no more than 500 words?

[Shade Muen]

The closest to 500 words.. in other words if ye wrote one that was 504 and someone elses was 499...they would be better of then ye'self.

Hope that made sense *grins*

[AKA Azure]

I'll try number 4


Long ago three friends delighted in exploring new places. Every few months one would come to the others with word of a new place that needed exploration.

This was long after the Golden Age had cracked, yet people still found joy where they could. Elgoff, the oldest, was also the most mischievous. He would be the one to carry an ice crystal to touch against someone’s neck to see them start or shiver.

Caital, a season or two younger, would joke that her friend kept the mind of a small child in place of his own. Purrol, the youngest, would shake his head and point out he would never stoop to pranks. This didn’t change Elgoff though. He was a good sort but prone to odd fits of humor.

One day found the three heading for the greatest structure of Valorn – the Wall. It had been struck by something, none knew what, and there were rumors of great crack. A heretofore unknown passageway stood revealed. The three embarked on exploration.

They packed supplies. Practical Purrol brought extra torches and tinder. Caital brought supplies of food and water, and Elgoff brought blankets in case of an overnight stay.

The trip began uneventfully – for passage through the Endless Desert. They dodged giant ants, slew scorpions, and headed in. It was cool after the desert heat and the dark appealed after the glare. They rested a while before heading deeper in.

Purrol noticed the odd sounds first. “What is it,” he asked. The others didn’t know.

Caital realized there was a growing smell of putrescence, “Where is that coming from?” Her friends seemed just as puzzled.

Elgoff smiled and looked to his pack with the concealed surprises. He’d unwrapped the mess of herbs and decayed meat so the smell would leak out, and he’d concealed some pieces of metal in his hands to rub together for sound. Neither of his friends knew it was him, and they looked about more anxiously. Exploring was fun, but this was nerve wracking.

“We should go back,” Caital said. Purrol agreed.

“It’s just me,” Elgoff explained, feeling badly for scaring his friends. He held up the metal and rubbed the pieces together. He showed them the mixture he’d brought. They started laughing and relaxed a bit.

It was with lighter hearts they turned to continue their exploring and came face to face with the creatures drawn by the noise and smell. Blindly the leaches quested towards them, and three scattered in terror. Two were caught and third fled on, finding a hole even darker to hide in.

Nowadays Elgoff crouches deep in the wall, hiding from the light and his memories. If you go there you’ll see him sitting there still. His eyes glow in the light you bring, for he’ll have none of his own. He’s unable to bear it or the knowledge of what his actions brought upon his friends. His terror and fear keep him there forever a captive and beast in the wall.

[Urkki]

The story has to be 500 words

And so it shall be. Here goes my story...

500 words!






Scary, huh?

[Groloth]

I gotta know, how are you going to screen for the whole bunnies not entering thing?

[Shade Muen]

We know a lot of alts and these we don't...we believe that no bunnie would go so low as to enter anyways with a alt.

[WIZE1]

I do follow with High Lady Shade's assessment. A bunny stooping that low would be shameful. Let's all pray to the Gods that it doesn't happen. With with that said Enter and be scary lest ye be scared first Enjoy the up-coming Fall Festival

[Amardmai]

My memory is a bit hazey as to the exact date, though I know it was far too many marcs ago for me to count, I stumbled upon a great wall within the desert north of Milltown. The shear size of it was enough to conjure images of omnipresent souls of past heroes and fallen warriors. Truly this was a wonder of our world shrouded in mystery.

As I slowly walked the length of this great wall, wondering if it protected the other side from the foul beasts that lay in the desert, or if the desert itself was protected from something far worse on the other side. Maybe a marc had passed when I stumbled upon a hole in the wall just large enough for me to pass through.

I crept through a maze of rubble and battled beasts which lurked in every corner. Shadow Scourges swooped in on me. Their size was enormous, with a bat-like form, piercing eyes, and a shreaking voice that almost shattered my armor. A black fog surrounded them, and it seemed to envelop my lungs. Battling my was through these fearsome creatures, I made my way to a hole in the floor that had been burrowed through by some sort of creature.

Slowly lowering myself through the hole, I soon realized perhaps I should have tied a rope at the top of the passage, for once I had reached the bottom, it was impossible to climb back up.

The foul stench below made it almost impossible to breath. I could smell rotting flesh... the smell of death. It was damp, cold, and dark. At times I found myself lost and I would have to feel my way through each passage when my vision failed me in the darkness. My hands past over the sides of the passageways as I felt my way through. Was the slick surface against the walls condensation from such a damp lifeless place, or was it cold blood from long passed warriors. Something told me, it was best that I not know.

I made my way around a bend to the east. A creature so atrocious, so fearsome, so maleficent attacked me. It seemed as if it was trying to gain it's power from my very own soul. I'm quite sure my screams echoed through each passage as I ran in fear. Knowing that my only way out of this ghastly place was to fight my way through, I returned to fight the beast again. After a deadly fight I slayed the creature. It dropped a stone of sorts which seemed to have the souls of people killed trapped within it. Not caring for the value of this stone I promptly destroyed it, in hopes that doing so might set those poor souls free.

As I walked away exhausted, I soon realized I was bleeding badly. Now I knew what these walls were lined with, and it was not condensation. I used my holy ring to stop my bleeding and continued on. My heart beating nearly out of my chest at this point, I came upon another hole in the floor. Realizing that what lay beneath may or may not be worse than what I encountered, I took my chances and climbed down. What lay below was in fact, at that time, the most abhorrent thing I had ever encountered in all my travels. It was as if the Gods had spoken and told me I did not have a chance. Determined to find my way out I attacked anyway.

The damage done to me far exceeded anything which I could do to this creature myself. I retreated promplty screaming as this beast caught me in the back time after time. Once I got away safely I gathered my thoughts. "I must invoke all of the powers of the Gods to defeat this creature" I thought to myself. I cast all my blessings upon myself. I now only had enough power to heal myself a few times more and I surely could not take being caught in the back many more times. I encountered the beast again. My blade was dull and it seemed that it might not slash through his armor. Using my ring I weakened the creature as light pierced through his armor. Though I had to retreat many times more, the Gods were on my side and eventually my ring weakened him enough for me to do damage with my now dull and bloody blade. Beaten to within an inch of my life I was finally able to slay the giant wall beast. I crawled through a small passage towards what seemed to be a glowing portal. If only I had known how badly I was bleeding perhaps I would have used my ring one last time, but alas I did not and as I crawled towards the glowing portal. My wounds became mortal, as I bled myself to death.

The Gods having pity on me reformed me near a large monument. I laid there in the warm sands of the great desert, my head propped against the cool stone monument. Was it all a nightmare I thought.. As I checked my packed for a cool glass of lemonade I had purchased in a tavern earlier in the day, I found some odd gauntlets.. If only it were a nightmare I thought.

Many days have past since then. I found myself drawn to the great wall. Though I had defeated the beast, my job was not done.. I had to gain more soul stones and destroy them, for all of the other souls lost in that bloodcurdling wall.

[Shade Muen]

Just a reminder there is 3 days left

[davej]

The poultry farm was a place of peace and beauty, once. The gobblers were content to strut around the pens and eat their grain. The mallards swam on the pond and nested at it's fringes. To the west the crows and scarecrows played an unceasing game. The scarecrows would dance in the wind and frighten off the crows, which would return only when the wind dropped and the scarecrows ceased their movement.
The ranch hands looked after their charges with care, and the farmer kept his benevolent eye on all that occured.
One solitary hen, Hettie by name, lived on the poultry farm, a friend to all who lived there. She roamed as she wished, and was welcome to take a small amount of the gobbler's grain, or a few seeds from the fields. The entire farm was her bed. She would sleep in a mallard's nest, or the silo, or sometimes in the farmhouse.
One evening, while exploring the farmhouse, Hettie found her way down to the cellar. She settled down on top of a pile of empty sacks, and drifted into a sleep that kept her from witnessing the awful events occuring above her ...

A dark figure, emanating an air of pure evil, entered Milltown, seeking ways to inflict misery on the inhabitants. A twisted smile crossed the menacing face as sunken eyes fell on a sign pointing towards the farm.
Lack of food would surely cause suffering ... the figure moved toward the farm, and entered the pens. A touch of it's hands transformed the gobblers to creatures of evil. The creature's shadow fell across the pond, and the mallards began to rot, the stench of their decaying flesh cloaking the farm in a stinking miasma.
The ranch hands heard the commotion in the pens, and ran to see what might be amiss. But they encountered that evil visitor, and though the ranch hands died, their shades remained to tend what the gobblers and mallards had become. The farmer tried to stop the dark figure, but he too met the same fate.
The figure moved on, and it's presence galvanised the scarecrows into a semblance of life. They chased after the crows, catching and killing them all. And then the crows arose, their once-living bodies infesting the farm and sometimes venturing into Milltown.
It's work at the farm complete, the figure took the path back Milltown to wreak further mischief.

Hettie awoke to find her home far different from how she had last seen it. In place of peace and friendship, she saw evil and desolation. She was bound to the place by the gods, and could not leave. She cried for what she, and all her companions, had lost.
The farmer could not kill Hettie - for nothing in that place could be allowed to die. But, to prevent her seeing what her friends now were and remembering what had been, with his final flickering spark of humanity he took up a blade and struck off her head.


Pallas
53943

[Amardmai]

Many marcs ago, I
stumbled upon a great wall within the desert. The shear
size of it was
enough to conjure images
of omnipresent souls of past heroes and fallen warriors.
As I slowly walked the length of this wall, wondering
if it protected the other side from the beasts that in
the desert, or if the desert was protected from
something worse. I stumbled upon a hole in the wall large
enough for me to pass through.
I crept through a maze of rubble and battled beasts every
corner.
Shadow Scourges swooped in on me, with a bat-like form,
piercing
eyes, and a shreaking voice that almost shattered my
armor. A black fog surrounded them that
enveloped my lungs. Battling my was through these
creatures, I made my way to a hole in the floor that had
been burrowed through.
Slowly lowering myself through the hole, I soon realized
I should have tied a rope at the top of the passage,
for once I had reached the bottom, it was impossible to
climb back.
The foul stench below made it impossible to breath.
I could smell death. It was
damp, cold, and dark. I
would have to feel my way through each passage when my
vision failed me in the darkness. My hands past over the
sides of the passageways. Was the
slick surface against the walls condensation, or was it cold
blood from passed
warriors. Something told me, it was best that I not know.
I made my way around a bend. A creature so
atrocious, so fearsome, so maleficent attacked me. It
seemed as if it was trying to gain it's power from my soul. I'm
quite
sure my screams echoed as I ran in fear. Knowing that my
only way out
of
this ghastly place was to fight my way through, I returned
to fight again. After a deadly fight I slayed the
creature. It dropped a stone which seemed to have
souls trapped within it. Not caring for
the value of this stone I promptly destroyed it, in hopes
that I might set those poor souls free.
As I walked away, I soon realized I was bleeding
badly. Now I knew what these walls were lined with, and it
was not condensation. I used my holy ring and continued on.
My heart
beating nearly out of
my chest, I came upon another hole in the
floor. Realizing that what lay beneath may be
worse than what I encountered, I took my chances and
climbed down anyway. What lay below was in fact, at that
time, the
most abhorrent thing I had ever encountered in all my
travels. It was as if the Gods had spoken and told me I did
not have a chance. Determined to find my way out I
attacked anyway.
The damage done to me far exceeded anything which I
could do to this creature myself. I retreated promplty
screaming as this beast caught me in the back time after
time. Once I got away safely I gathered my thoughts. "I
must invoke all of the powers of the Gods to defeat this
creature" I thought to myself. I cast all my blessings upon
myself. I now only had enough power to heal myself a few
times more and I surely could not take being caught in the
back many more times. I encountered the beast again. My
blade was dull and it seemed that it might not slash through
his armor. Using my ring I weakened the creature as light
pierced through his armor. Though I had to retreat many
times more, the Gods were on my side and eventually my
ring weakened him enough for me to do damage with my
now dull and bloody blade. Beaten to within an inch of my
life I was finally able to slay the giant wall beast. I crawled
through a small passage towards what seemed to be a
glowing portal. If only I had known how badly I was
bleeding perhaps I would have used my ring one last time,
but alas I did not and as I crawled towards the glowing
portal. My wounds became mortal, as I bled myself to
death.

[Shade Muen]

The deadline has been moved to 4 November

Also for those who has been finding it hard to keep at 500 without telling their full stories.. we will judge 500+ words as well.

[Gar Windgust]

The Legend of the Poultry Farm


A dark cloud stretched across the sky, from one corner of the land to the other, and crept slowly forward. Soon it would pass over their heads and ominously block the light of sunrifter from the frightened population of Valorn. Bit by bit, more and more of the land had been corrupted. Touched by the Dark Lord and cursed for all time. As the sky darkened further one menacing cloud started to spin. Slowly at first, then more quickly, it turned rapidly into a wild, ravenous funnel. The wind blew ferociously as the tip approached the ground. Sparks began to appear and suddenly he was there before them, Balthazar himself. He appeared to be heading toward Green Prairie path and on to the western side of Dundee. That is, until the residents of the farm rose up as one. The ranch hands, and the animals as well, lined up side by side against his advance. They stood atop the coops and pens, and along the cobblestone walk, their backs against the silo. Ducks from the pond and crows from the field flocked to the defense.
Balthazar was furious!
“Who are you to dare oppose me?”
He was loud, and large, and frightening beyond anything they had ever seen or imagined. But they stood firm. The safety of Dundee, and all of Valorn, was in the balance. They were going to give their all to defend what was left of the land and it’s inhabitants. Balthazar’s rage grew. With each move he made to pass, the defending horde grew thicker in his path and blocked his movement south. If he were to unleash his rath on these insignificant pests he would likely not have the strength left to carry out his plan. Finally, he could hold his temper no longer and waved his hand across the expanse of the farm.
The sight and sound of the corruption that followed is nearly indescribable. Flocks of crows became like zombies, watched over by suddenly animated scarecrows. Fowl began decaying, a rotting that would never end. The foul and despicable action of the Dark Lord was complete, but now his energy had waned and he was unable to continue his attack.
The town had been saved, but at such a tragic price. The farmer and his hands now nothing but ghostly, spectral remnants that would roam the farm forever. Such is the legend of the poultry farm. Such is the history of Valorn at the hands of Balthazar. And such is the sacrifice of the people all across the land.


Ah, my rewrite was too short!! Only seeing that now.... dumb warrior!

[Shade Muen]

The contest is now closed. Thank ye to everyone that entered..results will be posted on Friday 6 November

[Shade Muen]

It was great reading all the entires, thank ye. Aslo thank ye to the judges. And well done to everyone.



1st - Amardmai
2nd - Gar Windgust
3rd - Azure


Please contact WieTsard http://darkgrimoire.com/cshow50802.html to make arrangement for the prizes

[Amardmai]

Thank you, all the entries were fantastic and absolutely fun to read...

[AKA Azure]

Thanks for holding the contest - it was fun reading the entries.