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| Best story? |
| The Telling Truth |
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16% |
[ 1 ] |
| Xxx- Bizkit -xxX |
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| Total Votes : 6 |
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 Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 8:03 am
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Fancy yerself a great story teller, do yeh? A writer of the epics, teller of feats to last through the 41st Millennium. C’mon now, and gather ‘round the fire. Lemme tell ya a story about the soldier who dinnae make it out alive. The ‘ero they left there in the field, sport fo’ the crows. Lemme tell ya ‘is story, man. And then, ya’ll kin tell me yers…Best story wins a brew, eh?
Things are a bit different this year. Let’s remember the fallen. The heroes. The traits that made up those heroes. How did they live? How did they die? How did they win? How did they fall? The story is up to you. Just as last year, we are going to include not just Games Workshop, but any tabletop / roleplaying game can and will do. So any type or brand of war game is allowed and is considered a legit entry.
The contest will run from the 9th of August until the 16th of September, giving you ample time to write up a good read for us and hopefully win some gold in the process!
Rules
1. Your entry should be at least 1000 words long and adhere to proper punctuation and paragraphing as with most other formats of fiction. Please also take proper time to check for spelling!
2. Stories may take place in any of the established settings set by the source materials. This also means that you are to respect the source material and not twist it to your own views.
3. Submit your entries to Commissar Victoria by PM with the title of "Writing Contest Entry."
Prizes:
First place: 50000 gold
Second place: 30000 gold
Third place: 20000 gold
Poll winner: 20000 gold
One entry per participant, and each submitted entry gets one ticket for the Anniversary Raffle! Submit your entries to Commissar Victoria by PM with the title of "Writing Contest Entry." The Contest will open August 9th (today) and will close Midnight on Friday, September 13th. On that day, we will release the entries out to you, the public at large, and you will get a chance to read and vote for who you think has the best entry. Poll Winners get 20,000 gold, so make sure you vote for your favorite!
Also, each submitted entry that finds a way to insert a Warlord Trait either from the GW rulebook, (p. 111), or a specific quality/personality trait that made one of your characters a great warlord/hero, gets an automatic 5,000g prize, regardless of whether or not you win. Winners who do this will get their contest winnings in addition to the 5k.
Winners of the contest will be announced on the morning of Tuesday, September 17th, and will recieve their winnings shortly after that.
If you have any questions feel free to post them here.
Have fun, and Good luck! |
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Posted: Fri Aug 09, 2013 8:04 am
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+ + + Entries + + +
The Telling Truth Heavy boots thudded down dimly lit corridors as Lord Hry'drask made his way towards his personal chambers aboard the Despoiler Battleship, the Neverender. Long black hair lay about him like a sick and twisted mane as ice cold eyes scanned each passage as he moved deeper into the ship. The ship, a relic of times many had forgotten, was a beast of its own now; its form twisted and gnarled by millennium of Warp travel as its machine spirit roared through space. Creatures, both Warp borne and not, scampered up and down the corridors, dashing from sight as they preyed upon those who wandered too deep. Hry'drask did not worry of such small matters as these foul little beasts just out of reach in the shadows, nor of the battle brothers that filled the massive vessel. What he did worry about was the upcoming harvest. Upon the surface of Urik'ba VII, millions of gene stock lay waiting for The Wrong to come. They did not fight it; they accepted it as part of their beliefs and part of their lives. They would make offers, sacrifice animals and throw both men and women at their feet for the sexual enjoyment of those they saw as Gods. The part that worried Hry'drask was that the Imperium, which had long since abandoned the planet, left upon its surface a single blight; the domed city of Mar'ra'kar. The people of Mar'ra'kar did not attempt to fight The Wrong, nor did they attempt to stop them from coming and taking their gene and slave stock. Instead, those that still believed in the Corpus God would send out ‘raiding’ parties. In the last few years, the people of Mar'ra'kar had killed more than half of the plains people that lived upon Urik'ba VII. The city had been assaulted more than once by Hry’drask and his warband, yet, each and every single time the remnants of those left to rot were able to keep the warband from breaching the walls. But this time, this time The Wrong had gone on the offense, taking more and more warbands into its ranks till it was fit to burst. This time, the citizens of Mar'ra'kar would not escape with their lives. He began his climb to the top of the massive spire that extended into the vast expanse of space above the ship where his personal quarters lay. The winding stairs led past trophy after trophy, displaying the victories and carnage that lay at the base of the warband and their leader. There was little that had stood in his way and even less that had survived his wrath. There was a taste in the air, static and thick, that could be felt throughout the ship. All of the ships of the fleet knew that it would only be a matter of time before they would exit the Warp and be at Urik'ba VII. It was no different for Hry'drask and his personal Chirurgeon-witches. As he reached the top of the spire, the expanse of his room reached out to all corners as he moved towards the far wall. There stood three Chirurgeon-witches, their bodies white as bone and clad in the signature deep purple of The Wrong. Not a word needed be said as Hry'drask moved to them, turning his back to look out at the room as his witches set to their task. The coven that lay about his feet quickly moved to him, stripping his armor away until he stood bare before them and placing it upon the altar behind him. The altar, a macabre monster of bone and flesh peeled from those that proved themselves worthy of Hry'draks' death touch, loomed over the room from its spot to the right of Hry'drak's throne. Its flesh, a quilted mixture of Tau, Eldar, Dark Eldar and the tiny humans of the Imperial Guard was stretched over the hulking skeleton built of Space Marine and Ork bone alike and adorned with the chitin of Tyranid, portions of Necron shells and battle gear of warbands who could not see the Dark Light of the Mother Broken. Hry'drask' skin was a tapestry woven of flesh and warp energy, depicting a great many battles. Scars and bullet wounds pitted his ivory flesh as talons of bone pierced his chest, rising up along his sternum in a steady line. His spine had grown the same bone like spikes, making a row that fell down his back, aligned as so they would point downward. He was a hulking man even without his armor, the effects of Warp travel slowly dancing their way across his flesh. He waved his hand, a silent order for the coven to leave and return to their place just next to his throne. He would need rest before this fight. Unlike the times before, where no information had even tickled his ear before an assault was called, Hry'drask had actually received word from one of the warbands that he had defeated recently. In an attempt to win their lives back from the jaws of The Broken, they told all they knew of the area. They had been to the sub-sector in which Urik'ba VII lay and, by their accounts, something was amiss. He had been informed of some of the actions of Urik'ba VII and, from their tales, it seemed like the people of Mar'ra'kar were quieter than usual. There were even reports that a distress call had been sent. Such word could not be trusted but, as Hry'drask sat in his circadian cradle, the high backed throne of flesh, leather, and iron, he could not help but wonder. What were the curs of the Imperium doing? They had gone silent yet they had also sent a distress call. Such oddities could not be mistaken as the random acts of man or fate but should be known as something more sinister. As he sat there, the Chirurgen-witches moved into action yet again, connecting the spindle wires to the torso plugs upon Hry'drask's body. He would rest and, when they left the Warp, he would decide the fate of the 'mighty' domed city. As Hry'drask' eyes slowly began to close, a voice rang out from the other side of the room, forcing Hry'drask to postpone his much needed sleep. The voice was low and gravely, filled with a fear that reverberated about the entire room. "M-my Lord..." the meek voice called out as a figure stepped from the shadows. It was a former techmarine, his name, much like his life and former chapter, long since lost to the warp. He was clad in a deep purple habit and bore the marks of The Wronged and their goddess, the Broken. Hry'drask gave a small wave of his hand, causing the techmarine to nod and slowly began to speak again. "My L-lord, the servitors are making full reports. They are being hailed on every channel; even the encrypted ones. Vox messages are flooding in and the servitors are even reporting that the Astropaths are being bombarded." Hry'drask sat up straight at the news. "Tell me, what are these messages and where are they being sent from?" The techmarine swallowed hard as he glanced up at Hry'drask. "My Lord, the... the messages all hail from subsector Mekus; from planet Urik'ba VII, within the domed city of Mar'ra'kar. They are sending vox after vox, telepathica after telepathica with a single message. 'Send more'." Hry'drask' brow lifted as the techmarine finished, his eyes turning towards the floor as thoughts filled him."'Send more'? 'Send more' what? Adeptus? Imperial Guardsmen? A planet and a city long since thrown from the caring gaze of the Anathema calling out for help on every vox channel they can muster?" Such oddities could not be ignored. "Have all servitors and astropaths watch each and every transmission to and from the planet. Do not let a single thing slip our sensors. Inform me if anything new should arise." And, with that, Hry'drask laid his head back, his body slacking slightly as he let sleep pull him down into the dark abyss. The techmarine nodded, slowly retreating to his spot within the room and falling silent once more as he communed with the servitors. Soon they would be ripped from the Warps gentle embrace and arrive at the precipice of a new world. They would destroy this blight upon the planet Urik’ba VII. They would wipe the slate clean. And, when the dust settled, they would plunge the plant into the darkness of the Warp so that their Mother Broken could claim it fully in Her infernal majesty.
Xxx- Bizkit -xxX  The return to Murder Dantius Marcutian was naught but a humble battle-brother content in his duty to slay the emperor's enemies across the stars having been taken from the sands of Baal Secundus his home-world the fire scorpions of that planet comparing nothing to the horror him and his brothers now faced. How he laughed at those fond memories of being a feral young boy jumping from the rocks to pounce upon the monsters bringing upon them swift death he'd never once faltered in faith or duty. Not during his trials and definitely not during his campaigns to date but currently as of the moment Dantius was questioning almost every belief he held dear. He had been assigned to the Blood Angels 7th company and though not one of the more notable or prestigious companies of the chapter they're victories were still honorable to say the least. But him and his entire company of brothers a hundred space marines, two dreadnoughts and three predators had decided to investigate the disappearance of imperial merchant vessels in the area their distress calls leading them on a wild goose-chase against Eldar pirates who lured them in one struggle after another towards the planet 'One-Forty-Twenty'. Our commander the late Captain Pheobien had heard the stories as we all had but we'd never expected to be shot down from our battle barges by an enemy fleet having lied in ambush for us. The accursed fends were likely laughing from the stars right now as his brothers were being feasted upon the vile inhabitants of this planet. Their only hope was the slim possibility that a psychic distress call sent by one of their dying astropaths would reach imperial forces nearby. Space marines were dying.
Dantius had been running far longer than he'd ever had to in his two-hundred and fifty six years of service his second heart beating fast as his armored bulk stormed through the jungle with twenty of his brothers bolters held tight to their chests. They blasted out of foliage eyes alert and weapons blaring at any shadow that moved the forms detaching from the vine-trees one of them dropping down to snag brother Aeducan from right beside him. Hesitantly Dantius turned with six others and unleashed a devastating volley of bolt-rounds into the foliage above the flailing space-marine a large arachnid body falling down blown apart by the mass-reactive rounds that had blown up in it's chitinous skin. They dragged the brother to his feet his helm cracked at the top but otherwise the brother was unharmed and they were sprinting forward again the shrieks of death following close behind. Him and this squad of tactical brothers had been separated from the rest of the company during planet-fall large patches of vox-static covering most of the planet they were making for the a small clearing where apparently the majority of the company was holing up digging their feet into the dirt against one of their most ancient and hated enemies. The thirst was beckoning to both him and all his brothers fighting to survive the one planet named for it's caged plague. Murder.
Him and his brothers broke free from the tree-line rounding immediately as scything talons of limbs extended form the tree's behind them one of the infernal blades slicing the air in front of his face. His roar matched that of the creature which emerged it's shrieking fangs attempting to seize him before cracking open his armor to get at his flesh. The monster lunged at him and he ducked under the next blade-arm making one step forward to headbutt the creature before jumping back blasting a three-round burst into it's stomach. The rounds exploded out of the back of the monstrosity illuminating the dark woods behind and seeing the movements within Dantius held no doubts as what to do next before the order was given. The sergeant whose chain-sword was hacking the enemy apart with reckless abandon keeping the creatures at bay even as they heard the whines of the heavy weapons behind them. They'd reached Captain Pheobien all of them turning and diving face first into the long grass while the energies being pent and stored were finally unleashed. The late Commander Merien entombed to fight as a holy venerable dreadnought let loose a salvo of energy from the massive multi-melta mount on the death machines left shoulder on the right a powerful power fist which clenched it's grips eagerly as if anticipating what was to come. The tree''s behind them where once a small army of thriving monsters had been swarming to slay them their now stood only ash extending the clearing by another good fifty feet in that direction hopefully giving the astartes more room to breathe.
It didn't matter in the end however as they were surrounded, horribly outnumbered and likely to run out of munitions before night's end. All in all Dantius was summing this up to be the valiant end to his comparatively short service for the emperor; even as he fired round after round into the seething bodies emerging from the tree's. Their devastator squads were focused solely on providing them with what little air-support they could but occasionally a flying megarachnid would swoop down and steal a brother to be grisly torn apart int he tree's. The black rage was tempting all of them with it's violent lull and it took all measure of focus he could to stave it off. Slowly their numbers were dwindling. Occasionally a squad of five or four marines would burst through and joint hem but as the hours passed that became less and less frequent until they assumed themselves to be the only ones left. So here was where they would make their stand. The black rage unfurled at the edges of his mind his weapon running dry he hurled it into the face of a shrieking creature diving to his left and scooping the chain-sword of his late brother-sergeant eviscerated in two by an enemy talon moments ago. They'd gone from a hundred strong down to thirty and were about to be overrun Dantius loosing all abandon swung the revving blade like a mad-man giving in tot he red-thirst and it's dual counter-part with glee as his brothers death-cries reached his ears. Similarly other brothers began to follow in the path of the berserker laying into the creatures beating them with dry weapons when all else failed their dreadnoughts were swarmed over and clawed asunder. Merien still smashing three of the beasts with a decisive swing of his fist while blasting his weapon into the the parting tide of horde. If murder was going to claim him he was going to make it pay.
His sword sliced through one talon straight into the neck of another beast before he punched yet another shrieking face kicking and flailing with a strength he'd never known. the face of the primarch filled his vision as he lost himself to the memory of his gene-fathers agonizing death. It didn't occur to him that the bright lights behind the talons piercing his flesh were thunderhawks, it didn't matter as he seized his assailant by the throat tearing it out with his hand. While he was slowly pierced over and over his father smiled own on him. Only did he cease when a pair of green power-armored arms wrapped about him binding him in his fury and dragging him away form combat kicking. One blunt blow over the head and he was out cold dragged back unknowingly with the last of the survivors by their vulcan brothers who even now were contacting the inquisition. Their would be exterminatus, long overdue. But Dantius and his brothers many of their fallen saved with them. Yet still all Dantius could dream of was the screams of his dying brothers. They're deaths would haunt him forever. |
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Posted: Sun Aug 18, 2013 3:42 am
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 1:21 am
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 1:45 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 1:53 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 2:27 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 2:33 pm
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Lady Blodwynn Xxx- Bizkit -xxX Wow, cool whee I thought I had no chance. I sent in the un-revised version rather than the document I saved. Thought my grammar and spell-check was gonna kill my chances ><. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed reading it ^^ I enjoyed writing it. It certainly was a fun take on that infamous place from the novel. 3nodding
I actually haven't read the novel, I've been searching everywhere for it. ><.
All of it was based on what Info I could scrounge off the wikia >< |
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Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 2:38 pm
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Xxx- Bizkit -xxX Lady Blodwynn Xxx- Bizkit -xxX Wow, cool whee I thought I had no chance. I sent in the un-revised version rather than the document I saved. Thought my grammar and spell-check was gonna kill my chances ><. Thank you to everyone who enjoyed reading it ^^ I enjoyed writing it. It certainly was a fun take on that infamous place from the novel. 3nodding I actually haven't read the novel, I've been searching everywhere for it. ><. All of it was based on what Info I could scrounge off the wikia >< |
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