What Do Demons Have Nightamres Of?

[rikm]

While downing the last sip of my lemonade the voice of the crier rings out loud and clear ‘Demons, Demons!’

As I started to stand the door to the inn burst open. Demons started to pour through the door. I reached for my blade but the scabbard was not at my side.

About to retreat I turned just to come face to face with a huge demon. With a cross between a laugh and a snarl he brought started to bring down a huge club.

My heart began to sink and just before the blow landed I woke suddenly to the crier saying all is well.


Alright that didn't happen but it got me to wondering...

What do demons have nightmares of?

With the anouncement of the dates of the Fall Fest I thought it would be a good time to hold this contest.

This is a story writing contest. Entries will be posted here during the Fall Festival (Oct 18 to Nov1).
Write your story answering the question (( I will expand this to include all creatures you may encounter IG )) perhaps as a nightmare they would have or story of someything happening to them. Do not do a statement as they are afraid of me. Or they are afraid of rats. I am sure there will be oportunities where you may be able to share your story IG. Be creative and have fun!

Be sure to include your charaters name and thier number also. (one entry per charater)

The prizes will be listed before the contest opens.

[vardian]

I do hope you will forgive this early entry, but I am not sure I will be around. I hope this is not construed as a breaking of rules!

An entry for Vardian - 14458.


The Darkest Demon Hour

The biggest ugliest demon ran through the dank, rank caves ignoring the scurrying and dripping it heard all around. It half closed its eyes as it came closer to the tiny pinpoints of light that had been the source of its alarm.

Crashing into the cave wall, it listened to its foul, black heart thumping and crashing realising it must have come to a halt as this was no longer echoed by its unsubtle feet. With a hiss of disgust it put out the torches it had found lit by spitting on them with its acid saliva.

'Who lit these torches!' it boomed in a voice that would make the hairs on the back of a good adventurer's neck stand up in the same way as Asrai's crayons being dragged down an inn wall. 'You KNOW it stops them all sleeping!'

Nervously it listened in the dark but heard nothing but the rasping drags of air that signalled the demons were still sleeping.....

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

With a disgusting leer of a grin the demon soaked up its bowl of warm adventurer blood with some Ethucan rolls he had saved for several seasons until they were distinctly green and rotting. With an appreciative nod it let the vile meal slide down its revolting throat.

What a splendid day it had been. Rotten Korunga for breakfast, followed by some demon song singing in which EVERY demon had managed a different key until even Balthadaddy had begged them to stop. Having overrun Kilican the demon was enjoying his spoils for lunch and was planning a long, torturous walk through the Dead Zone to play hunt the limb in the graves there. Ah yes, a splendid day.

As it left its poor excuse for a table, it noticed the weather had turned cold, grey and windy. Perfection for its Dead Zone adventure it thought.

Crossing the dreadful bridge it breathed in with delight the vague scent of rotting flesh and grinned and laughed as it skipped through the graves and kicked the occasional exposed limb.

Balthadaddy's castle loomed large and dark giving the demon the thrill of a vague feeling of dread. 'Ah how wonderful!' it thought.

Suddenly, as it continued on its journey, a tinkling sound seemed to come from somewhere behind the demon. After a mere second it stopped. The demon shook its head and skipped merrily on. Suddenly, it skid to a halt as the tinkling sound returned and it realized that sweet, happy laughter was the sound it heard. It whirled round in horror but saw nothing to explain where the sound had come from. Too late to avert it, its eyes drank in a truly awful sight. Where once there were rotting adventurers’ corpses and mass graves, it seemed that flowers, sweetly scented and gorgeous to the human eye, flowers had sprung from the ground. The once dread Dead Zone was covered in a delicate and beautiful carpet of unimaginable beauty, or indeed to the demon, horror.

Spinning about it realized that it was not just behind, but all around and terrified, it lumbered towards Balthadaddy’s castle as fast as its repellant legs would carry it. When it got there however, it was to find a palpably heart stopping awfulness. There, climbing up the fortress walls were beautiful Kimaldian roses that had turned its dark stone to a vision of loveliness!

Almost unable to bear this sight, the demon turned to run away again, only to be faced with Balthadaddy himself, but not as He had ever been seen before. In place of his helmet of despair was a beautiful crocheted bonnet of spider silk adorned with yet more cursed flowers. In place of his armour of dismay, a dress trimmed in ribbons. Rather than the boots that struck fear into the very ground they walked upon, dainty satin slippers suitable for dancing! Oh horror!

The demon threw itself on the ground and howled for his master, but all it heard in reply was a voice singing songs of joy and love accompanied by a skilled zither player. Looking up in terror, it saw a small Iron Knight with a blue hat and a tall warrioress poet who wore her armour as lightly as a silk gown standing over it. Next to them, the worst of all! A tall Kimaldian warrior, handsome and strong, with a guild membership form for it to sign!

Screaming in terror, the demon sat bolt upright in the pitch black listening to its own heart thumping in its odorous body. Could it be true? Could its Balthadaddy really be a girlie and the Dead Zone he loved be awash with flowers?

With acidic tears rolling down its cheeks it placed a rock over its head and tried desperately to get the visions out of its head. A long night of wondering lay ahead……

[rikm]

Hmmm... I guess that your entry can be allowed Vardian. The close date is firm though.

I said prises would be announce before the start. I have rummaged through my pack, checked my bank as well as a couple of other places. And Prizes will be:

Scepter of Morning Light (2 charges)
Golden Age Armor Mod Scroll (armor+1 wieght+2)
Duberry's Left Hand Dagger (120 charges)

The winner will get first coice, runner ups will follow with coices from what is left.

Hope you have fun! ~ Narian

(( This contest was also inspired by a Dr. Who episode. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0562998/quotes?qt=qt0366133))

[zeldin blue]

stalking through the night a demon officer and his party of demons crept along through the wooded forest north of dundee and kept there footsteps quiet and precise. not a torch lit and all demon spears were pointed for battle: they were ready to strike. leaping out of the cover of trees they ran across the bridge to dundee in the south when suddenly just as the demon officer gave the commandd to charge and attack the town cryer shouted (demons have invaded dundee!.) they realized it was too late to turn back. there charge remained in tact and they rushed over the bridge ready to destroy dundee's citizens.
just as they made passed the guild hall lane, 3 bright figures appeared in front of them cloaked in shining armor like never before sceen, polished to perfection and gleaming in the moonless night. before the hord of demons could hault there charge swords of light flashed in the figures hands and demons began to fall with speed getting no chance to attack back. towns folk began striding out of the town organized in ranks led by one of the magnificent people with swords of light and swiftly the demons were destroyed swifter than before. .
in the end only the officer remained shivering where he stood in terror.
the middle of the three figures gleaming in armor lifted his visor, no, her visor, the demon saw it was a her and she spoke in a determined cold voice.
(know that your hord of demons was felled by the organization and leadership of the ironknights! the demon officer shivered as he now knew his vanquishers and knew his demise would come soon. the officer somehow escaped unhindered by the knights or there citizens allowed to live to tell his tail.

after his tale was spread, in light of events, demons now fear ironknights in the extreme for the strength in leading others and using there connection to each other to defeat their foes.

zeldin blue

182063

[Lunitari]

A lone adventurer lost in the endless sand storm , tired confused and thirsty fighting the clouds of sands suddenly stumbles and falls face first into the sand. Spitting out a mouthful of sand, he looks to find the head of a small jar sticking out, that seems to have become unearth by the fierce winds. Shielding his flask with his hands he take a drink of water from the last of his stores then uses the butt of his sword to dig around the jar until finally he is able to pull his treasure out of the ground.

Within the storms of sand he dares not open the bottle and risk letting its contents be lost so he wraps it under his arms within his cloak and continues his trek seeking shelter. After two more days of wandering he finds a cave of sorts and enters where at last away from the storm, he can sit and unveil what is inside this jar.

His curiosity for the contents is what had given him the stamina to keep going and even now abates his thirst and hunger as he sits in this cave unsure if he will be able to find his way back to a town before he is overcome with exhaustion. He wastes no time in un-stoppering the cork and using the light of his clerical ring to peer inside the jar to see what appear to be loose pages. Carefully he removes these pages , the writing is exquisitely written as well as legible and to his utter jubilation he finds that he understands the language, so he begins to read...

The beauty of this world has never touched my heart, it still as always beats dark. A heart filled with emptiness as shallow as laughter for the only truth to my feelings is terror. Never stood still enough to ponder my reflections in the water, for muddy weather stained clothing on me did not matter. Pain my constant companion, the roving of a lonely existence. The sweetest of drink does not sate my thirst, for mine is a hunger that was always close. Mornings light interrupts my slumber, a makeshift home under thorns this day my shelter. Stealth and flight itching for a fight, may victory be mine tonight. The nightmares of last night still have not left my side.

A time of peace when strength gave way to the weak. Houses filled with order and calmness, no demons left to vanquish. Our race a thing of the past, like fading memories forgotten, no more mayhem and chaos. There was a time once long ago when it was said demons and men were once the same, to this I say never again!
The gods forgotten, without danger, mortals fail to listen. A time when dullness became the norm, swords and daggers on hips no longer adorn. I know now that I relish the fight, the harmony of weapons light, when sparks doth fly the course be victory or die. What life for a demon than to measure our prowess , hone our skills to win any contest. What measure is my kind than battle, to hear the drums beating as we march under a banner. My story will never go quietly into the night I will burn my memory into the future with every fight. I will conquer and destroy all in my path and never let this nightmare be left to last.
My essence shall endure in fire and frost shall I fall and my brethren and progeny shall inherit my legacy till the last of my kind is no more...

I sit here in this cave with many more pages to read, this is but the first of many, I am left only with questions, was this the lucid reflections of an actual demons? Do demons write and have their own language? And most of all what did he mean when he said demons and men were once the same and serve the same gods? So many questions, so many more pages but my friends that is going to have to be another story.

Lunitani 161586

[rikm]

Nicely done so far! Halfway through this years fest.

Remember eventhough the title mentions the word demons your entry can be about any creature found in Valorn or Killica. What nightmares does a bos or cat have? Perhaps you know first hand... probably not... but you can imagine. Also one entry pre character.

Have fun!

[Isoyami]

Glaring red eyes snapped open in the darkness; a rough tongue loosed a guttural, snarling curse. A dark figure sat up panting, fumbling for a flint and striking a spark, soon a torch was lit and the red eyes looked around. The scene revealed was nightmarish, a swirling cacophony of dark magic and fanged faces. The demon loosed a guttural groan and threw himself backward on the rough stone of his cot, rubbing a clawed hand over his face in the darkness of his demon barracks. He tried to relax, the dark shape of the walls and the creatures inside it familiar and comforting to him, his breath a gurgling wheeze in the night. “Nrr’gth’ul Zz’th-Ukt?” A pair of red eyes met his and a growly voice rasped somewhere next to him, it was his bunkmate. “Can’t sleep?”

With an affirmative grunt, the first demon officer nodded. “I had that dream again…” “What, that one time we torched that village and slaughtered all the squishy humies in it?” “No, I enjoyed that one…” The first demon officer replied.. “It was that monster again. Ugh, I hate that monster…” “Tell me about it?”

Nodding, the dream bedeviled demon officer lay flat again and tried to gather his thoughts. “It wasn’t like one of our pets… with its thick coat and sharp fangs for attacking. This… this beast was just so.. small. And the humie who held it was so calm and confident, it must have been a strong and vile monster indeed…” In the darkness, the second demon officer shuddered, glad for the concealing gloom. Though he was loathe to admit it, similar nightmares had been haunting the second demon’s dreams as well.

It was about that time that a hissing catfight erupted from the far end of the common barracks, the first officer got up, red eyes gleaming. Glad for a target to vent his anger, he shouted at the small cluster of spawn who were busy jabbering and cackling about slitted eyes that glowed in the night, razor sharp claws and needle fangs. Switching from the low guttural spoken by officers among themselves, the demon spoke in the higher pitched squeals of the lesser scouts: “Stuff yer worthless Gg’lackt holes or I’ll bash your bloody heads together!” “..Bloody useless Grots….” Muttering, the officer settled back into his familiar cot and resigned himself to another tortured, sleepless night.


Elsewhere, the demon adviser to Balthazar was sighing to himself, rubbing a sharpened, manicured claw against the bridge of his flattened, hairy nose. “Sir…. Put down the… No, I don’t want a Demon Heart, Your Nastiness, THANK you…. Yes I know Coconut Cream are your favorites, but…” Shaking his head, the adviser sidestepped the invitation to the bright flowery table. “About your latest evil plan, Sir… its been –how- long since you obtained the last piece? And you still wont tell me what it is?”

The demon adviser sighed again, trying to suppress a shudder. The throne room where he stood was vile, especially by demon standards. Instead of a nice black or a warm bloody red, the walls were painted this ugly, nauseating red, so light and washed out it was downright pale. Not bloody at all. And in circular little platters along the walls, the images of the most horrifying little creatures a demon could imagine: instead of large and muscular, it was tiny and pathetic. Instead of great red eyes and slavering fangs and an intimidating growl, it has little, helpless round blue eyes, soft fluffy fur, and a little squeak of a voice. It was the eyes that were worst, they seemed to peer into the demon’s soul, and pour in images of sunshine and rainbows, no matter how hard he tried to resist, and no matter how hard he thought comforting black thoughts. Little did the adviser know, though, that Balthazar himself instilled fear of the fluffy cute creatures in his demon horde so they would be properly cowed and afraid when they entered his throneroom and his evil presence.

Down an adjoining passageway, there was a knock on the door. Excusing himself, the demon adviser answered it, and returned carrying a crate, mewling could be heard inside the metal bars. The adviser wore an expression of open revulsion, carrying the crate gingerly like it was the latest secret weapon that could wipe out a whole land. With sullen, slow steps the adviser carried the crate over to a small, fenced off corner of the room where a pile of the little creatures climbed over each other and cavorted. “The latest shipment of plains cats has arrived, Lord, do you want me to put them in the nursery…?”

[Topaz]

Demons do not exactly sleep.

They are not natural creatures, and hence do not follow the rhythms given to mankind and beastkind by the gods, but only hunger and anger and cunning, the gifts of their demented creator Balthazar. But their frantic hunger and destructive urges sometimes give way to a dormant state, during which they heal their wounds while they wait for the next command of the Demon-Lord.

In such a state was this particular demon. He (or it) had been marauding across Valorn, attacking small towns and secluded farms, devouring villagers and an occasional adventurer. Eventually he found himself in the Forest of Verthedge, trampling down the underbrush and frightening the birds. He was (of course) hungry, but there was nothing in that forest that could not outrun or outfly him, so he settled down under a tree for a rest.

Then he heard something coming through the forest, that was not a wolf or a troll or a flesh-eating plant or even a Crystal Guardian. It moved confidently in his direction. Perhaps it was an adventurer? He had encountered them before. Some he could defeat; others he had fled, knowing himself outmatched. But he had never feared them.

Until now.

Now he knew fear. He could not defeat this adventurer, he knew. And as he turned to run, his pointed tail tucked between his spindly legs, he knew he could not flee fast enough to escape this time.

No matter how hard he tried, it was not enough. He ran, but he could hear the strong, steady tread behind him. Although it did not seem to hurry, it was inexorably catching up with him. He scuttled into hiding places, but the piercing eyes followed his footprints, tracking him though he hid behind boulders, down in ravines and in giant birds' nests.

It came closer, and now he could see the tall and ominously silent figure. It drew a huge weapon so sharp that the very air seemed to shrink away from the blade. A mighty gauntleted hand reached out and grabbed the demon by the scruff of its neck as if he had been a plains kitten. And as the weapon drew back with a deadly gleam that blinded the terrified demon with the last thing he would ever see, he squeaked out in realization, "I ... I ..."

"ISLANDER!"

And he awakened. And every demon within the sound of his voice sat up with wide eyes, looking around in fear at the sound of that name.



Topaz
39789

[rikm]

If you have an entry hurry as the contest ends soon!

[AKA Azure]

The plains cat stretched once more before circling three times and settling down for a nap. She was a lovely example of the breed and a swift hunter too. Many were the times she’d brought rodents and bunnies home to her kittens for them to learn to hunt too.

Few dared to challenge her on the plains that were her home, and she’d long ago learned to avoid the adventurers who traveled them. Yes, there were those she could dispatch, but she’d seen others finish off her kittens, mates, and the more foolish among her breed. She was neither stupid nor (in her own mind) expendable.

Nose tucked under her tail she began to dream. They weren’t huge, impressive dreams. She was a plains cat after all. They were the simple dreams of chasing prey, mating under the Demon Eyes’ or ‘rifter’s gaze, and raising her kits.

This was a hunting dream and she began to twitch and growl slightly as she started chasing down mice and rats. Easy, sweet-tasting prey. She heard a loud human sound. She heard it four times every day and sometimes other times shouting of some danger or another. But it was human sound so something she ignored.

This time the sound was repeated again and again, slowly it penetrated her hunting dream. She dashed after a rat as it frantically tried to hide in the grass and PAIN! A giant, red-eyed rat stood over her. It was larger than the humans she so often saw. Larger than the trolls to the south of that human trader. Large. And it picked her up as if she were one of the baby bunnies she sometimes devoured and SNAP!

The cat awoke with a start. Somewhere the human sound was being made. Somehow it sounded louder, more desperate then before. Tucking her hindquarters beneath her, her fur rutched up in fear, she ran. She couldn’t understand the words, but there they were again, “Large demonic rats in town and south of Dundee. Everyone come and help!”

Sometimes, even plains cats have nightmares that are dreamt true.

[rikm]

Seems with the close of this years Fall Fest so does this contest... I do so enjoyed reading all all the entries, very creative. I will post soon the ranking of the winners and try to contact each IG.

[rikm]

Alright it was very hard to pick just three but had to make a decision....

All the entries were really good and like the differing stories. Perchance on differing days the winners may be different but this day...
Topaz gets first choice sceptre of morning light,
Zeldin next armor mod scroll,
Lunitari third. Duberrys dagger

Narian