Wurm Online Fan-fiction Competition!

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I'll have a go, though I'm not much good at writing fiction!



It is said that once the Freedom Isles were home to mighty civilisations, great empires that spanned our archipelago.  Yet, all that remains are crumbled ruins, strange patterns in the earth, and fragments of what once was.  No-one really knows what happened, though there is a theory emerging.  It started at a dig site on the isle of Release, the site of a small cottage on the coast of a lake.  It was there we found the first records etched into a clay tablet that spoke of plague.


We know not from whence the plague first came; indeed it has always been with us, even in our earliest records carved upon stone.  When many gather, where festivity reigns, and where nature is bountiful, so too does one find it.  Where one finds it, it soon spreads to consume all.


In the fragments of this tablet, we found a hint of the capricious horror of our ancestor's end.  Once we druids of Fo could hold back the plague, and with his blessing great empires could flourish.    Then, one day, such power was gone.  The tablet speaks of what followed in the village of Oakvale; of the farmers who fell first to the sickness, and the fearful exodus that soon came.


The tablet was found by the skeletal remains of a severed hand, a rotting stylus gripped tight within.  The last words were carved into the tablet with a shaking hand; "Trust ye not the gods, least your fate be ours".


Edited by Etherdrifter

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I have this one I like to call, Penor and Melpy: Beautiful Obsession

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It was a stormy night, thunders shattering the sky, need to find a shelter somewhere. The forest was packed with trees of all sorts, cannot see with the faint light of my lantern, but Vynora had some mercy and let me see a cave around 5 tiles in front of me, went inside. With my bland skills managed to make a campfire, at least to get some heat and cook something for the night. Took my butchering knife and started to work on the bear I had on my cart, carefully skinning the fur and made some chunk of meat. It was scary, so far from my village, all alone in the wilderness just because I decided to be an adventurer, an explorer. What I was thinking? I'm just a humble farmer, my village mates know that! Well, with all this toughts on my mind decided to eat and go to sleep. Damn! Forgot my bedroll in my house. Sure! Another problem over problems! Ok, think positive! Tomorrow it will be better... at least I hoped. The day after, at early horse of the mornig, I had the best experience in my life, The day started so bright and full of colors, the trees show contrast between the brown and green of the leaves. The yesterday storm left sparkling drops all around, making the landscape unnatural, like magical. Everywhere around me no roads, no buildings, nature at its finest. I felt like the king of that place, like I own all of it. Birds were chirping and fit perfectly in that picture. In that exact moment, as soon as I exit the cave, I realize "Yes, now I remember why I left the village and want to go out exploring!".


Thanks all for reading and sorry for my english :)

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*Entry Withdrawl


Thank you 



Edited by Gumbo
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Heres my entry


One cold winter night, three adventurerers named Necro, Beast, and Gav were sitting in the warmth of Grifo's Pleasure Palace deciding what they wanted to do. They cuddled each other for warmth until they decided they were to find their owner Grifo. So they all set off, Beast hopped on the wagon while Necro and Gav laid in the canvas to ride into the winter night. Early in the morning they came across a farmer named Wargasm who said he would sell us the location of Grifo for a couple crates of slate, so they had a new mission to find slate.  

The three of them rode off north to find some slate to trade the scrawny farmer for the location of their daddy. They rode for what felt like days all while slaying all the seals because they know daddy hates the seals. They ran into Grifos worst enemy Pandy! She had a plan to fill the world with seals named Pingpong instead of bettering her blacksmithing. They couldnt let that happen so they gave her a mission to make a bunch of crates and meditation rugs and they continued on. 

The next village they ran across had a couple of strange people keeping a giant blue whale stuck in a shallow pool of water, their names were Fabricant and Madnath. They though it was weird they stood in a pile of mess from what appeared to be a building collapse all while in their undergarments. While chatting with them they noticed a creep above them in the mountaintops and the village mates explained, thats just Oblivionnreaver, he just likes to watch. They were able to give them the location of Grifo so they no longer had a need for slate to give the scrawny farmer since he was rarely around anyway.

Turns out Grifo was in the dungeon of his Pleasure Palace all along! They rode back to the might black slate fortress to find him being eaten by seals. As they all got close, Grifo whispered, if only I had my boat mounted ballista.

Please add boat mounted ballistas.

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I think my entry might've become a bit too lengthy... Or actually, scrap and resmelt that, I'm okay with how lengthy it turned out! 😁

For whatever reason the weather was working against them that day with heavy fog and winds that blew in the wrong direction no matter what direction they were sailing in. They had begun their journey in good spirits but had quickly tired of the endless waves and lurking dangers. Who’d ever heard of bears attacking in the water? Surely the gods were laughing about that one. The shore was now visible through the spyglass, and it would do them good to reach land again (or at least that's what she kept telling him, and he didn't know the lands well enough to have any reason to doubt her).

Finally they arrived at the shore, and after anchoring the boat she quickly jumped out into the water and began the climb towards the treeline. After a while she realized that he wasn't following her, and with a confused look she asked him what he was doing: "I don't know how to climb.", he said in response. It wasn't an answer she'd expected, and while becoming increasingly frustrated she walked him through how to breathe properly in order to be able to reach her. In the end he had to hand all her belongings to her in order to be able to reach the goal, since the increasing amount of bruises from all the falls made it that much harder for him to ascend.
"I'm really sorry."
"Don't worry about it – Though I will be throwing away the log you’ve been carrying, I can cut you a new one once we get there."

As they journeyed through the woods she was astounded by how this guy could even still be alive: He was wearing rags of mismatched colours (that he had proudly exclaimed to have dyed on his own), his sword seemed more like a slightly sharpened trowel than an actual weapon and he kept putting worthless items in his pockets while they were walking. At one point he had even asked if they could bring the half-rotten floor loom they stumbled upon in a small clearing (no, they could absolutely not bring that piece of junk). She had to rid them of hostile creatures countless times since even the sight of a wolf was enough to send him howling through the trees.

After a fair bit of walking the trees were thinning out and the grass turned to steppe, which meant they were getting closer. The wind was whistling on the steppe and they could see gigantic scorpions crawling around at the horizon, but more importantly she could see a wild horse. She put a rope around its neck and tried handing it to her travel companion, thinking it would make the trip easier if he could ride away from hostiles. But he just stared at her with a puzzled look on his face, and that’s when it dawned on her: He didn't know how to ride a horse. And of course he didn't know how to ride a horse, because how would he? This was the first horse he'd ever seen, and the first creature they'd encountered thus far that hadn't tried to kill him. She made a silent promise to herself to be more understanding about their difference in experience, and to not be so frustrated with his constant stream of questions. While looking at him happily pocketing a handful of blueberries a sudden memory of how she had at one point tried to befriend a spider washed over her. She had mistakenly thought that enough morsels of meat would appease it, and when that turned out not to be the case she had hid in a small pond until a passerby promptly cut off all its legs. “I’ll bring the horse with us anyway, he’s yours now”, she said while thinking he’d learn to ride it eventually.

They’d left the steppe behind a long time ago, and as they walked through a thick olive grove things started to feel increasingly unfamiliar. The slopes felt off and the road which she had been expecting to find was nowhere to be seen. Could they have taken a wrong turn somewhere? “Hold on, I need to check the map”, she said and while she was consulting her compass and the piece of paper in front of her he started foraging for more treasure to put in his pockets. He didn’t appear to be all that bothered by the wait, but when he spotted a troll in the distance he nervously nudged his companion to get her to pay attention. “Relax, it’s just a troll”. He kept staring in the same direction, and she could feel that he wasn’t convinced so she turned around to deal with it. At first she could, however, not see anything and was wondering what was up with that. After a split second of confusion she realized that she was actually staring at the kneecap of a very large, and extremely angry, champion troll. Her confidence disappeared at the same speed at which she now started running through the woods, blindly in any direction, to get away from the surprise opponent.

After a while of running she turned around to see if the troll had caught up to her, and while she kept backing away as to not slow down she suddenly felt her stomach drop. Then the rest of her dropped as well: A moment of panic followed by a bad fall into a pit. The champion of all that is scary started descending the slope she had flown past, and was towering over her like a badly constructed house. She didn’t want to die like this, lost in the woods where her remains would never be found again, but it didn’t seem like she had a choice in the matter. Just as she’d resigned herself to her fate she heard a voice calling out for the troll’s attention: “Hey! Over here! Yeah I’m talking to you, you ugly beast!”. The troll was obviously irritated by the taunts and started to follow her terrified new friend through the woods, so she took this opportunity to hastily patch up her wounds. Then she mounted the horse and hoped she’d be in time to save her friend from the snot tossing monster he’d willingly subjected himself to in order to save her. It was now time to return the favour, and to be level-headed and focus instead of panicking.

A month had gone by since they had located the valley that was the ultimate goal of their journey, and where they had subsequently founded a settlement to call home. They had wasted no time in making it their own, and the horse had been given a stable with a little field to roam. As she was sitting on her balcony overlooking the stable she smiled as her friend was struggling with the rye fields. After some muttering under his breath he figured out how to go about it and went to get a scythe, and proceeded to harvest the rye in perfect time. “Are you on the lookout for champ trolls?”, he asked looking up at her. He wasn’t about to let her live down that one anytime soon, and she’d often joke that the only reason she hadn’t yet kicked him out was because he was so good at finding lost treasure to contribute towards the upkeep. He performed a weird looking dance seemingly to amuse the horse and then looked up at her again:
“Oh, I’ve been exchanging letters with a couple of others who are new to the lands!”
“Oh yeah? Anything interesting?”
“Well, they don’t have a settlement yet and were wondering if they could stay with us for a while so I said I’d ask.”
“Sure, we can look for another horse and go pick them up in the large cart.”
“I’ll start looking.”
As he excitedly rushed off to look for a horse she almost regretted her words, but only almost. Sure: He’d most definitely tease her about the troll incident in front of the new couple and they’d most likely be as confused as he was a month ago. But in the end none of that really matters, because it all pales in comparison to the end result.

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This is going to be good!  Unfortunately I do not qualify!

If anyone cares to remember, I already did a lore based fanfic too.    and you should always be wary of any others that might popup......👹🤫😱

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Twas a Sunday, late June in the city of Wyttancaster 1458, I had turned of age and wanted to join the sappers unit.
I was fit, healthy and of sound mind, yet I had no family blood that would allow me to work anywhere. I didn't know my parents and the people who cared for
me couldn't afford to feed me any more.
Rejected from the sappers and unable to remain at home I decided to roam and find a place where I could call my own.

I walked the forests and hillside for days and was becoming quite hungry so I found the nearest lake and fished a while.

Once I had eaten it became apparent there was a humming sound from nearby, nothing natural about it. I was curious and picked up my fishing gear, packed it as a bindle and decided to investigate this sound. I headed towards some wild plant growth and had to stomp the foliage down to get through, as I got closer to the sound it became increasingly difficult, yet I persisted.

It was strange but awe instilling, I pushed through and what I saw before me was not of this world, A marble frame with a scintillating orb in its epicenter, distorted images of people walking by in what seemed to be another place, another time? It wasn't here or now. Curiosity gripped me and I leaned closer, I could hear birds sing and trees rustle, the footsteps of the people in the distorted image...   This isn't real I thought to myself and leaned yet closer to the mysterious orb.  
This object was amazing I had never seen anything like this before, I felt allured to touch it even though I knew not what it was. Seeing an inscription on part of the marble, I figured I would investigate further to see if it had any clues to this artifacts origin. I  moved around the object and NO! Stumbled, I'm falling over part of a plant, I grab out and reach nothing, grasping wildly at the air my hands flail and I touch the orb.

FLASH,....  Darkness..........     ......
Light emerges again and I feel myself land hard on the ground of old cobblestone and the smell of salty sea air, I hear the birds and the footsteps... And they're louder.
I'm a little injured from the fall and I stand at a similar artifact, it looks the same but its slightly differ.....  wait, the forest is gone, the overgrowth is nowhere to be seen...
What is this an illusion?
One of the passers by sees I'm in difficulties and offers me aid for the injuries I have sustained and I accept. He asks me if id like to join him in his settlement, there's food, water, its pretty new and he could do with some help to build stuff.
I consider this, I was to join the sappers in Wyttancaster to do maintenance and building projects, so I felt that this was a close second and obliged to the gentleman.

We walk for a few kilometers, eventually we arrive at a lightly fortified location, a few animals, a small farm and a large guard tower are there. I ask how I can help the gentleman, He responds by telling me he needs some help mining for ores. So I willingly enter the mine he has decided to open to find the ore.

he chuckles as he slams the mine door behind  me, what the?  He then says, mine in there  I want 10 stone shards to build a mansion you're not coming out until I have my stone shards....


My attempt

Edited by Octetsefune
spoiler added

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Here's mine:


It was a cold morning in Omens and I was sleeping off a whisky hangover in my Cele shack when Moth banged on the door.

“Palgolak, you lousy son of a troll, get up, gotta job for you.”

I opened an eye. My eyeballs felt like a hell hound was gnawing at them and my mouth tasted like the lining of a goblin’s underpants.

“Fo’s teeth, Moth, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Well past eight and it doesn’t do to keep the Chief waiting. There’s a stiff down at the waterfront.”

I groaned. Waking up on a normal morning is bad enough. Waking up to a corpse that has been in the water for several days - well, that’s worse.

I dressed, checked the whisky flask (empty) and went out. It was foggy and damp and Moth looked no less ugly than he usually did. He gestured to his rowboat.

“You row and I’ll talk,” he said.

“Gee, thanks.”

The stiff was a tower guard, he said, as I laboured painfully at the oars.

“Another tower guard?”

“Yup, and the Chief wants you to find out who keeps bumping them off.”

“Somebody who doesn’t like tower guards, I guess.”


The Chief and the stiff were waiting for me at the waterfront. It was a female TG, in the usual Freedom togs, nothing special about her, except for her brains leaking out all over the grass.

“All right, Palgolak, what’s your opinion?”

“I’d say she’s dead, Chief.”

“Very funny. Think it’s the same guy who did the others?”

“Could be a troll.”

He pointed at the muddy footpath.

“See any troll prints?”

He had a point.

“OK, I’ll ask around.”

“Oh, and try to be discreet for a change. No need to go around worrying folks.”

I got it. He was up for re-election in the spring.

As I headed out, the meat wagon arrived.

“Keeping busy, lads?” I asked. They ignored me.


Tap Dance is a dump and the Tap Dance Inn is a dive, but I had to start somewhere. Besides, it was almost ten o’clock.

“Well, look who the cave bug dragged in.”

Thelma and I go back. Mainly this involves her chucking me out of the various bars she’s worked in, but back in the day she chucked me out of her pad a few times as well.

“Thelma, nice to see you too. How’s business?”

She shrugged.

“So what do you want? Your usual small barrel of hooch?”

“Just a whisky. Oh, and some dope on a case.”

The whisky was vile but I did my duty by it.

“Heard of anybody who gets their kicks from rubbing out TGs?”

She shook her head.

“We get some weirdos in here, but not that weird. Wait, there was a guy asking about towers in the neighbourhood. Kinda egghead type, small with glasses. He was bumping gums with Blunk.”

“Know where Blunk hangs out these days?”

“Same as always.”


Blunk was a small-time dope peddler. He mostly dealt in low-quality source crystal and sleeping powder. I found him by the Tap Dance token, trying to interest a punk in some mushrooms.

“Beat it”, I told the kid. He split.

Blunk whined, but I had enough dirt on him to fill a caravel, so he shut up quick. When I mentioned the egghead, he nodded.

“He was here an hour ago. Said he wanted to check out some guard tower on the north coast. Doing research, he said.”

“So that’s what he calls it.”


The north coast of Cele is kinda empty, except for hermits, hobos and tin miners. I scoped out a few towers, but nothing doing. I was about to head back when I spotted one more. This one was a horror show. I counted five stiffs. What maniac could have done this?

“Interesting, isn’t it?” came a voice behind me. “All dead at the same time.”

I spun round and there was the egghead. He was writing in a notebook with a reed pen.

“You sick, murdering son of a - “ I began. He interrupted me.

“No, no, no, I didn’t kill them. Well, not directly. I suppose I might have changed something in the code. It’s such a tangled mess, you tweak one little thing and often something totally unexpected happens.”

I had no idea what he was yapping about.

“Anyway, I have enough data for now, so I’ll be off. Nice meeting you.”

And then, I swear by the gods, he vanished into thin air. I stared open-mouthed at the place he had been standing. I’d had the DTs before, but never like this.

“Whisky,” I told myself. “And fast.”


Thelma didn’t believe my story, of course, and I didn’t dare repeat it to the Chief. The tower guards stopped dying soon after and I never ran into the egghead again. In the end I decided it must have been the DTs. I carry a full whisky flask with me at all times now. Wouldn’t want something like that happening again.


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*Entry Withdrawn


Thank you


Edited by Gumbo

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Twas the day of the Ant, week 2 of the starfall of the Saw, 1094. A young man by the name of Sheriff entered into the lands of Melody. As he first opened his eyes he was greeted by a mighty being looking down upon him. This mighty being was a Magranon Colossus.
Sheriff wanted to learn more about Magranon and what his purpose was. Sheriff began to follow Magranon and learn his faith. Sheriff prayed day after day when he was met with a choice that would change his life forever. Magranon asked him to preach his faith to the lands of the Northern Freedom Isles, In return he would grant him the power to cast powerful spells.

Sheriff thought about this decision and remembered what Magranon spoke to him before he first started following his faith. 

"Is your goal in life to achieve riches? To achieve freedom?
Who is stopping you? You are. Who will help you? Magranon will!
We, the followers of Magranon will stand at the top of the world one day and sing!
Together we will strive to rule the world. We will conquer all evil, build fantastic houses and live rich and glorious lives in them.
What is knowledge for if you do not use it? What use is compassion if you are hungry?
What are the alternatives?
Say yes to yourself! Say 'I will!' Your world will change, and you will change the world!
There are obstacles. People and forces will oppose us. Who will want to deny us all we strive for.
That force must be utterly defeated! No victory will be possible unless we cleanse the world of that evil.
Join our ranks. Help yourself reach the top!"

Sheriff decided his fate and accepted this offer. Magranon exclaimed:

"Listen to the words of Magranon: What are you? Could you not be more?
I am the Fire and the Mountain. A sword is my symbol. I will help you rule the world.
You will conquer all evil, and live a rich and glorious life. One day you will stand at the top of the world and sing! What is knowledge for if you do not use it? What use is compassion if you are hungry?
Paths leading endlessly into the mist! What matters is power! First, power over self. Then, power over others. Say yes to yourself! Say 'I will!' Your world will change, and you will change the world!
Let me help. Together, nothing can stop us!"

After Magranon spoke Sheriff felt a rush of power flow through his blood. He rubbed his hands together and created a token that was so bright you could see it from many villages away.
Sheriff went around preaching the name of Magranon; converting people to follow him and the God he served. The more he would preach the more powerful he became. 

Rumor has it that Sheriff has the ability to shape rock and destroy mountains, enslave monstrous creatures, and slay the most mighty of creatures. 

All Hail Magranon!


Here is my attempt :<

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Orange and yellow light danced against the wall opposite the forge, outlining the shape of a man rhythmically beating his hammer into a billet of metal. He stopped and lowered the hammer, bending closely over the horn of the anvil and peering down the sides and over the entire length of the glowing metal. It was slowly assuming the shape of a proper blade, and he would soon have to start refining it into a functional one. He straightened and nodded satisfiedly to himself, sending a bead of sweat sizzling briefly against the metal as he slid it back into the forge.
The mines here were widely known for producing the utmost quality of metals and ores, and his services as a smith were being employed to their fullest. Demand for high quality goods was steady (if not increasing), and the settlement grew more prosperous by the day (if not the hour)! The latest order was nearly complete, a batch of steel arms and armour intended for some traveling merchants with which to outfit their protective escort. He paused for a moment while eyeing the coals of the forge, which seemed suspiciously like they were fading, but then caught a distant noise.
The call was very faint, just barely audible from where he was within the mine. If he had been hammering still he would never have heard it. No guards responded to the first call, of course, but that was all nothing out of the ordinary. No doubt one of the newer citizens running from a wild cat, or something. Nothing more dangerous than a bear had been spotted in weeks, which he is pretty certain was made into a rug very soon after. He turned to rummage in the storage bin for some wood scrap, though before he could feed it to the forge, he heard it again.
Much closer. A little more panicked. He was now curious, though not yet concerned, so he didn't even bother to put down the hammer he was holding before stepping out of the mine and gazing out across the settlement. As he searched for whatever it might be, he heard another cry out, a different voice this time, and his focus now aimed toward the source of the sound. He saw a guard moving briskly in the same direction, and he stepped forward to follow behind. The hammer in his hand gave him pause and he thought to return it to the forge, though quickly decided to just keep it while investigating and to return it when the scuffle was over.
Suddenly, a tremendous crashing boomed from beyond the row of buildings lining the edge of the deed, rattling the ground under his feet and echoing across the settlement. Almost everything paused in that moment, though the tense silence was soon interrupted by an ear-splitting roar, a throaty scream that could only mean one thing...


He saw the guard's footsteps falter and his eyes widen, but they swiftly narrowed in determination as the guard leapt forward with renewed purpose. The footsteps of more approaching guards grew into an angry beat as they increased their pace across the cobbled stone. Weapons in hand, they swiftly flowed around him and on toward the invading beast. He turned after them, almost stepping into pace before dropping his gaze to the hammer still in his hand. This certainly wouldn't help much. Turning in place once more as he tried to determine where he might best fit, he must have seemed confused, which wasn't terribly far from the truth, as someone running by suddenly barked an order which gave him a swift flash of purpose:
"Find the healers!"
He straightened almost immediately, nodding his acknowledgement, and then turned toward the farmhouses. Those who tended the livestock and gardens usually ended up very knowledgeable in the healing arts, and he began to run as fast as he could past the houses and toward the other side of the settlement. The entire town began to stir as everyone grew aware of the developing situation. Visitors in the shops and taverns all flowed into the streets, and each began to form their own opinions on how to respond. Many faces were panicked, though were balanced out by a greater number of resolute expressions, and even a few eager grins. Men and women tumbled out of houses and workshops, donning a variety of armor and equipping weapons as they ran down the street.
While a dragon might be rare and highly treasured for it's hide and such, it was the process of separating it from the dragon that proved the tricky part, and most were content to flee the immediate danger. A number of the more well-equipped visitors moved towards the noise, though a substantial number moved away as well. Merchants and their escorts ran to the docks and leapt onto vessels of varying size, putting as much distance between themselves and the coast as possible. He already knew most would simply wait on the edges of the tumult until the dragon was dead and then return to buy whatever is left, but he had no time to care as he raced onward to the farmhouses.
As he arrived and entered he found the inhabitants already rousing themselves, and he quickly imparted them with the directive he was given. Bundles of cotton, bandages, and crates of salves and healing covers were swiftly assembled and packed into a cart that stood nearby, and it soon took off with it's cargo of supplies and attending healers. As they grew closer, the noises of destruction were replaced with those of combat, or more specifically, screaming. The horses did not seem terribly skittish, a testament to their good training, though they did not seem altogether eager to be moving in this direction either.
They stopped as close to the fighting as seemed safe and began tending to those who were already retreating from their wounds. Deadly injuries took only moments to inflict, but even with several trained healers tending at once it would take far longer to restore any back to fighting condition. He had no talent for healing himself, unfortunately, and was only able to draw the healer's attention to the serious injuries as they appeared. Ridiculously enough, he still gripped his hammer, but noone made a single comment as he wielded it while directing the scene.
Another man lurched around the corner, clutching an arm that dangled limply, yet at the end of it his bloodied hand still firmly gripped a sword. The expression on the man's face was angrier than one might expect from someone so injured, and it then became clear that it was the same man who had told him to locate the healers. Mutual recognition seemed almost instantaneous, and the wounded man gazed at the healers frantically working to patch the injured and then nodded at him in appreciation. His gaze then returned to the scene, though this time he seemed to gaze at the wounded, the dying, and the dead. His gaze hardened, and the man turned to him once more and gave another command:
"...Go, bring the priest."
It was said differently, in a way that implied it did not refer to any of the priests who already worked around him with the healers. He almost paused to clarify, but then saw the man drop his head in somber acknowledgement of the seriousness of the request, and he knew. He turned his gaze, then his feet, to the hill which overlooked the town. At it's base was the mine he had recently been working in, the forge likely starving for fuel by now, though at it's peak was a marvelous temple of Magranon, the residence of one particularly aged priest of miraculous renown. While one could never confirm such things, it was his favor from Magranon which likely blessed the mine with marvelous abundance, and his reputation alone had drawn ample trade to the settlement.
He ran through the town as fast as he was able, leapt over as many of the stone steps before the temple as he could, and his hand almost touched the door before it slowly swung open. In front of him stood the priest of Magranon, hooded in flowing black robes and with a fiery red beard sprouting down his chest. In his left hand was a ruby-tipped staff, while his right held a solid gold statuette of Magranon. Their gazes briefly met, and then the priest looked at the hammer still gripped in his hand. The priest smiled faintly at him, then stepped from the door and onto the steps, leaving the door to swing closed behind him of it's own accord. Before he could point behind him and stupidly mutter something about the obvious fray taking place, the priest simply nodded in acknowledgement of his unspoken advice and instructed him to follow.
They descended the steps briskly, though the priest abruptly turned to the side and began to circle around the hill rather than proceed directly toward the chaos. He frowned, confused, though realized as they rounded the hill that they now had a clear view of the dragon from high above. The beast had wreaked havoc across a small corner of the settlement, and he saw at least two buildings standing nearby, one partially destroyed, the other completely leveled. He could see all around the dragon the small moving bodies of the people who fought it, as well as several more unmoving bodies of those who had already done so with their last. As he watched, the dragon reared back and belched forth a blazing stream of molten fury. He saw one person vaporized in the initial blast alone, and several others began flailing around as flames engulfed their forms.
Suddenly, a staff appeared before his eyes, held out toward him by the priest with an indication that he should hold it, which he did. The priest then grasped his statuette in both hands, clutching it before his chest while gazing intently at the dragon, and began to chant. He understood none of the words, and even some of the sounds sounded strange to him, though if there was anything to understand in it he never would. He couldn't ignore it, however, as the very air around him began to hum and throb with the intonations of the priest. The words seemed to ooze across his skin, the sounds echoing off the inside of his skull, and he could feel his entire body begin to tremble with the power being brought forth within a meter of where he stood. Almost as suddenly as it began, he felt a crisp snap as everything solidified back into reality around him, and his attention was immediately drawn towards the sky.
The sky began to brighten above their settlement, the clouds slowly parting to reveal the sky beyond. The light grew brighter, and as he watched, an enormous bolt of fire streaked down from the heavens, slamming into the dragon with an audible concussion and surrounding it with the furious crackling of hungry flames. The beast roared, shaking even the hilltop where he stood, and he saw the priest stagger, appearing heavily exhausted. He stepped closer, quickly handing the staff back to the priest, which he gripped weakly in order to hold himself upright. He turned from the priest back to the dragon, which still thrashed and fought among the townsfolk below, though it now seemed to be more in pain than anything. The priest beckoned him closer, telling him that the beast was weakened, but no mere mortal would be able to fell the great lizard. Wincing with strain, the priest muttered that he would return to his chambers, but that he should go and find the champion to ensure the dragons presence was brought to an end.
Turning from his latest task into another, he rushed back into the town proper. People still moved around him, some moving away from the fight to rest and others rejoining it once more. They might not be able to destroy the beast, but they could certainly limit the spread of damage it could inflict to the town itself. He could imagine that he looked a sight, sprinting around the town wielding a blacksmith's hammer, but he cared for nothing but attempting to locate the champion. He would have assumed the champion wouldn't already be fighting, when he rounded a building and caught full view of the dragon and the attackers surrounding it. From above it seemed a distant threat, but in this moment he feared for his life, even though it was clear the dragon's attention was focused elsewhere.
As he watched, he caught a glimpse of a man in full plate armor wielding a huge axe occupying the dragon's attention. He concluded this must be the champion, and was proved correct as he heard the man invoking the wrath of Magranon upon the beast in between making and dodging blows! Despite it's wounds the dragon struck quickly, though the man skillfully used the blade of his large axe as a shield of sorts, deflecting and bouncing off the strike and onto the ground. He could scarcely believe the man was wearing plate armor as he rolled on the ground, dodging attacks, swinging around and onto his feet, and managing to swing the blade in enormous arcs to cut into the dragon's hide. If the dragon had not been injured already by the priest's spell, he assumed this man just might be able to take it down by himself ... though as he thought this, the dragon swung around and smacked it's tail into the champion, sending him sprawling onto the ground once more.
Were it not wounded already the beast would have likely finished him off, though its breath came in rattling, rasping snarls, betraying it's weakened and dying state. Several enormous wounds along the dragons hide still smoldered, revealing bloodied and charred bits of flesh and hide, the clear results of the priest's terrible spell. The scaled beast pulled itself across the ground, attempting to poise itself over the sprawled champion, though he quickly rolled away from the immediate range of the dragon's teeth and underneath it's chest. A bold move, he thought, seeing as the winged monster could have simply dropped to the ground and crushed the champion like meat in a cheap tin pot. The dragon, however, heaved itself away from the plated man and his sharp blade, which he now saw had been thrust upward in an attempt to slice open the beast's belly. All other men had now peeled away from the fight, save several archers who were attempting to land shots on the vulnerable wounds along the beast's hide, with their successes denoted by another pained snarl from the dragon.
As the fight raged between the two nigh-evenly matched combatants, he slowly became aware of the sound of chanting, though not that of the healers who were still nearby practicing their craft. The sound began to echo, bouncing off the sky it seemed, and he finally tore his gaze from the spectacular battle and looked about for the source. He quickly spotted it ... on the top of the distant temple stood three small figures, arms outstretched toward the heavens, calling on the blessing and strength of their glorious god. Their three voices met in a strange harmony, and the sound of their voices caught even the attention of the combatants on the ground, even managing to tear the dragon's gaze away for a moment. It snarled, still suffering from the wounds of the previous spell, and appeared to gain renewed energy to attack the immediate source of it's ire, the champion standing before him.
It turned with blinding speed, smashing it's tail into the steel-clad champion and sending him skidding and tumbling across the ground. He came to a stop only several meters from where he himself crouched to watch the battle, and he froze as the dragon clawed it's way across the ground toward them both. Somehow it seemed to miss him completely, or it could have ignored him in favor of the champion he supposed, though in either case it passed him and came to hover over the body of the champion. He could hear the voices of the priest and his acolytes rising in pitch, seeming to near the pinnacle of the spell, though he could tell it would not complete by the time the dragon had the opportunity to bite the man in half.
The dragon itself seemed to know this, almost ignoring it's impending death in favor of enacting it's fury upon the divine warrior ... though, as it reared back to strike, time seemed to slow down. Strangely, his gaze dropped once more to the hammer he had clutched uselessly throughout this ordeal ... and he was overcome by a moment of divine inspiration! He leapt forward, seemingly in slow motion, raising the hammer high above his head, then swinging it swiftly down onto the only part of the dragon within reach ... the tip of it's tail! The strength of his blow, strong enough to warp hot metal against an anvil, pounded the bony tip of the tail into the ground. From what he knew, he would have sworn that dragon's bone would never yield to his hammer, yet he felt a sickening snap as the extremity was pulverized beneath his hammer.
The beast reared back, roaring in shock and pain, then recoiling and pivoting to face him with great speed despite it's massive bulk. It's gaping maw streaked toward him, his only attempt to flee managing to be falling backward, but it seemed enough. As it's teeth snapped shut where he had been standing a quarter of a second before, he heard the voices of the priests complete their spell, the halting of their voices suddenly leaving an unnatural silence. Almost instantly, a blinding light poured forth from the sky, slamming into the ancient creature with the power of a thousand godly hammers! The beast roared in terror and agony, likely the first time it had ever done so in it's life, and it reeled and collapsed under the tremendous force of the divine blow.
He still lay there on the ground even as the champion regained his feet. The beast seemed beaten, though it growled wetly through the gushing blood in it's throat, and twitched in a vain attempt to strike at him once more. He knew even now that the beast might have survived, had it been left to retreat and tend to it's injuries. The strength and ability of the great lizards to recover and thrive when left for dead was well known. This one, however, would have no such fortune. The champion limped around to the dragon's head, staring briefly at the dying beast, then raising his axe over his head one more time. Bringing it down in a final fatal blow, a sickening crunch accompanied the dying whine of the dragon, and it's body twitched, slowly shuddered, then went limp.
Once the noise of the final encounter ceased and the dust began to settle did people begin to realize the dragon was defeated. A faint cheer went up, with much pain and reserve due to the widespread loss of property, limbs, and lives. He slowly regained his own footing, and stood stunned and staring at the corpse of the dragon, his hammer still somehow in his hand. The ordeal seemed as if it had been hours, when really it had probably been no more than thirty minutes. The town reeled from the disaster, many slowly picking up the pieces of their lives that could be found, or gathering what they needed to make new ones. After helping where he could, and not being in need of any treatment himself, he eventually found his way back to the mine, and the forge he had left untended what seemed so long ago. Finally, he put his hammer down, almost feeling a slight sense of loss when he did so, and peered once more into the ashes of the fire. Correction, the embers of the fire! He stoked the fire back to life and waited for the metal to begin glowing from the heat. He thought about his recent achievement, but then realized that all that really happened was that-
Hammer increased by 0.00014.

Hah, yeah, first post. Thanks for reading!

Edited by Cnote
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Well, here we go... :) A different point of view 


The old troll stood on the side of the road. She looked down at the corpse of the tower guard. ” Another one.” she thought to herself. She never felt good about it.


The other guards stood there, blank expressions on their faces. They hadn’t been involved in the last fight. Simply wandered around close by as their fellow NPC felt the sting of her huge club. He fought bravely, she remembered. As if either of them had a say in the matter.

In the not so distant past, it had all been so different. The land was untouched by the outsiders. She would have peaceful days with her family. An occasional skirmish with a spider or scorp. The goblins knew better than to mess with her. They stayed close to their huts and fought amongst themselves. She had taught her boys to fight just as the other mother trolls had. As long as they could take care of themselves against the rough terrain, she had no worries. When father troll made his way back home, they would settle in for a meal and stories of his recent adventures.

Then, the boat came.

One lonely boat coming ashore with many strange beings, scurrying around as the cave bugs did at morning light. They wandered through the wilderness making sounds that she could not understand. The whispers, coming down from other trolls on the tall pointed mountain, became more frequent. The beings had stopped at the base of the mountain. Tree upon tree being cut from the landscape to create their shelter. Odd structures, small at first but then slowly reaching higher. With each structure built came another boat. And another. And another.

The male trolls were summoned to create scouting parties. To find information on the large swaths of land spreading from the base of the mountain. The bison, which had been a hardy food source for the troll, were now being used to move the beings and strange objects they rode upon.

Her boys, too young yet to join in scouting, stayed back to help keep her safe. This made her grunt in amusement. She had never been too meek to join in protecting what was hers. Father troll gave her a long look and disappeared into the cold night air.

Time slowly passed and as the fire began to fade and the sky began to glow brighter, she stepped out into the morning. Her eyes, adjusting to the light, scanned the forest for any signs of him. But there was nothing. She looked back at her boys, sleeping sound, and smiled. They would be fine if she stepped away. For just a moment. No more.

She made her way through the dense trees. She knew this area well. It had been her home since she was young. She heard the felled branches snap under her feet as she ran. The wind blowing through the leaves of the mighty oak. It carried along with it a strange sound. The sound of the beings. Loud and even more strange than before. She thrust her arms forward and tried to push through the large thorn filled brush in front of her, only to run full on into what felt like the side of a mountain. She fell back, ears ringing from the impact. Slowly, her eyes followed a wall of stone higher and higher towards the sky. A structure was towering over her. It was like nothing she had seen before. The sounds of the beings were close now. And with it, the familiar sound of the one she loved in battle.

She was unarmed. Her club leaned against the bed where her sons lay sleeping. Her mind raced as she searched the ground for something to protect her. As she reached down for a nearby log, all went silent. All but the wind. It was as if time had stopped. Then slowly, so very slowly, a club rolled to her feet.

A troll club.

His club.

She picked it up. It was still warm from where he had held it in battle. She wrapped her strong, steady hands around it and took a step forward. There he lay. His face as magnificent in death as it was in life. Across the way, one of the beings. Wearing clothing in shades she had only seen where the forest met the water. A large piece of rounded wood in one hand, something long and shimmering from the sun in the other.

They stood there, face to face. Fear in the being’s eyes but strength in his stance. He did not try to engage her. He did not move. Nor did the other four beings that had gathered around her. In the distance, bison pulled two beings along in something made from the same colors the ones in front of her wore. The one riding on the back watching intently, weapon drawn as if anticipating battle and yelling the word “guards!” when something got too close. Only then did two of the beings move away from her.

“These are called guards”, she thought. “And they do what they are told”.

The tower guard looked down at the corpse of the old troll. “Another one.” he thought to himself.

He never felt good about it.



Edited by Amantnovi
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Entry #2 :)


There was an old spider named Vern.

Who lived in the lands of Wurm.

He said with a strut,

As he wiggled his butt

"It's less painful if you don't squirm!"




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Here is my entry. Hope you all enjoy it.





They circled high above. Seeming to float in the air as they glided ominously on invisible air currents.


There must be prey nearby! Finally! We must be near.


“Teeebomb! Wait up!” Xagru called from behind as he, too, emerged from the thick walnut forest to stand on the lip of Gurubear’s Crater.


I was impatient. Revenge! That was all I wanted. I must have it! My throat constricted with emotion. I had to make that monster pay! Tears wanted to fill my eyes but I steeled myself, and shouted, “Xagru! Hurry up! The sun will be setting soon. Time is of the essence!”


As I waited for him, I gazed out across the vast steppe that filled the crater. It had always been an awesome sight to behold. It still was. But something was off.


The usual mobs were there speckled across the landscape. Crocodile. Scorpion. Bear. They seemed frozen in place like a tableau of life on the steppe. Except...the wind brought a whiff of burnt carrion.


That burnt smell! It brought back memories that tore a hole right into my chest all over again.


Hauler! His happy smile as he had greeted me that day flashed before me. Hauler! His amazing joy when I had given him the baby dragon hide to make armour from only made my heart squeeze ever more painfully. Then the look of horror that filled his eyes when that she-monster appeared out of nowhere screeching like a demon from hell. Hauler! He ran still holding the damn hide I had gifted him.


The last time I saw my friend alive, he was engulfed in green and blue flame before I was knocked unconscious by the brute’s leathery wings as I fruitlessly tried to save my friend.


My fault. My fault.


“Teee...? Are you alright?” a warm hand clasped my shoulder as I was returned to the here and now from my nightmare of a memory. Xagru looked at me with concern flooding his kind eyes.


“Just ...imagining what I’m going to do to her when I find her,” I growled in reply my throat dry and tight.


When we got to the bottom of the slope, we could see the guard tower in the distance. I did not hold out any hope for the guards as I passed corpse after corpse of scorched black shells or meat. The guards, too, were lifeless black lumps scattered around the guard tower.


Everywhere I looked. Desolation. Destruction. Death.


The rage began to build in me again. Ire filled me till I felt it bubbling away like a flood of red hot magma ready to burst free of the confines of my mind.


A piercing screech pierced the stillness and reverberated across the steppe bouncing off the sides of the crater creating eerie echoes.


“She is coming. We’d better get started,” Xagru nudged me gently and pointed towards the east. A winged dark speck was getting bigger in the distance.


We hurried to the mine near the guard tower. It was black inside. There was only one way in. There was no door but we didn’t need one. We hurriedly dropped large chunks of meat that we had brought along as bait in case..but looks like we didn’t need them. She’s mad and coming in fast.


Xagru quickly hides inside the guard tower. He has rubbed bear grease all over himself so she won’t be able to detect his presence. I will be the bait.


Standing in front of the mine entrance, I tremble with nervousness. I can do this, I tell myself. I swing the drake hide of her dead baby. I know it will draw her in. It still bears the hatchling’s scent. Hauler never had the chance to work it. I shake my tears away. Concentrate!


Screech! The sound tears through me. The ground shakes as she lands, and screeches again. I run into the darkness behind me. Thump! Thump! She follows. Fortunately, the light token in my pack gives me sufficient light to see by. I race around corners. Finally, I drop the hide. I am at the very end but there is a shortcut I can take back to the front entrance. I squeeze through the crack in the wall and run back to the entrance. Behind me, I hear her desolate scream. She has found the hide. I run out into the fading sunshine while Xagru mutters the spell and casts Strongwall on the entrance. My heart is thumping fiercely. I can hear her thumping feet as she realises I have escaped. Will Xagru close it in time?


With the sound of thunder, the wall falls into place. We did it. Xagru and I jumped to clap each other on the back. I am breathless but it is not time to celebrate. Not yet. Soon, ...soon I will be free of this pain.


Lighting a fire to signal our whereabouts, we sat down to wait.


It took 25 of us to finally slaughter her when we got the tunnel reopened. Phoenixus, Oblivionnreaver, Kelody, Delll and all the rest of my hunting friends fought for hours on end. It was a bloody mess. 


To cut the long story short, I got my chance when the she-devil seemed to stagger for a second. I cast my spell-rigged silver-tipped long spear hard and fast. It zipped through the ash befouled air like the hand of vengeance it was, and sank deeply into her left eye. She screamed in agony, and clawed at the spear in an attempt to dislodge it. Her attempts grew weaker and weaker and, eventually, she slumped to the earth. Everyone threw up their arms and cheered, and went around slapping each other on the back.


I stood there staring. Expecting to feel different. My sense of elation and victory was shortlived. The pain of loss was still there. Hauler was still dead and buried. Xagru seeing my confusion understood. “Come Tee. Let’s go home. We can sacrifice an offering to Vynora for Hauler,” my good friend comforted me. I rode off into the beginnings of a sunrise as understanding dawned. Nothing would take the pain away.


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In under the wire - true Pandy style. lol.



Yellow Rock

            Grouser loved his yellow rock. He carried it wherever he went. When he was bored, he enjoyed tossing the rock into the air and watching it twinkle within Sol’s rays. Today he spent seven hands worth of throws of the yellow rock, the most time he ever spent waiting on his cousin, Doopra.

            Sighing, he looked around for his cousin. So much green and trees and rocks. Not the kind of rocks he really liked either, and that made him sad. Breaking the continuous greenery was a tall wooden wall, surrounded by cherry trees, that Doopra said was the meeting spot. Grouser thought about not showing at all until Doopra mentioned that a big secret was behind the wooden wall, one that can only be shared between the best of cousins.

            Butterflies fluttered from one rose bush to another. A blue one flew around him and made him smile. Unlike others in his family, Grouser liked colorful things. Living in a grey den got boring after a day or two, but that’s where his family called home. The lucky yellow rock was his bright spot in the boring, dark grey of the den.

            Growing impatient, he moved toward the wooden wall and stood in its shadow. With no one around to see him, he took his yellow rock from his pocket. Up in the air it went, twinkling as it zoomed through the branches of the cherry tree. Grouser smiled and held his hand out for the rock. A branch snapped behind him. Seconds after the rock hit his palm; Grouser whirled around and looked for the sneaky sneak making so much noise. Nothing. All he noticed was the nature surrounding him.

            He shrugged his shoulders and returned his attention to his rock. He bent his knees, ready to toss the rock in the air, when something hit him from behind. Grouser watched in horror as his rock sailed over the wooden wall.

            “My rock!” cried Grouser as his body hit the ground. He rolled away from whatever hit him and stood to face the monster. Talons bared, he bared his sharp teeth. “You losted me my rock! You pay now!”

            After a few moments, he realized what hit him was very bear-like. Brown fur, big snout, large paws – all equaled bear to Grouser. He took a step back, but continued to keep his fighting stance. Yellow rock shall be avenged! His anger lessened as the brown bear’s head was joined by a greyish-green head much like his own. The monster grew hideous each time it swayed from side to side.

            “Keep quiet. You make Stink Bottoms mad.”

            Grouser dropped his fighting stance and hid behind the nearest cherry tree. “It talks!”

            “Duh, why I no talk? What matter, Cuz? You no like sneaky sneak?”


            “Duh ‘gain. Be much careful with Stink Bottoms.” Doopra wiggled out of the bear fur, dropping it at his cousin’s feet. “They be more sneaky sneaks than rats. No keep track easy.”

            Grouser’s anger returned at the mention of sneaks. “You losted my rock. How we get back? Dumb wall and Stink Bottoms. No hope!”

            “Stop being baby. Stink Bottoms has lots rocks. All colors, even yellow. Is my big secret. Come on.” He walked along the wall, staying within the shadows.

            Dropping his hands to his side, Grouser followed Doopra to the middle of the wooden wall. An odd hole filled a section of the wall, the wood pieces sitting in a different direction than all the others. Bigger pieces held the smaller ones into place. In one spot a shiny, brown ball. Grouser started to ask what the ball was until Doopra turned it to the left and pushed the wood pieces open.

            Boxes of wood gathered around a stone bowl big enough for twenty Grousers to fit inside without sitting atop one another. Water splashed from the top of a spike in the middle of the bowl, creating arcs of color in the sunlight. Grouser stared at all the different colored items scattered about the stone bowl.

            Animals roamed inside smaller walled areas. No Stink Bottoms as far as Grouser could see. He felt his cousin nudge him and didn’t hesitate to follow Doopra through the opening. Hard ground under his feet felt strange compared to the grass and rock of his usual paths. Maybe he could bring the secret back to the stone den. Then everyone would cheer for him. Lost in his thoughts and not paying attention, he kept walking long after Doopra stopped next to a box of red, round things. The more he walked, the softer the noises around him became.

           Little green blades of grass waved in the breeze. Looking around him, Grouser noticed nothing interesting until a sparkle caught his eye. A familiar sparkle.


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Alright wasnt gonna post mine but will do so after all 😛  More cringe for the ppl!

Not sure if this goes under "fiction" as it is a description of the first days on Defiance from the eyes of our group on HOTS, its just has some more spice and a "story mode" to it.
But plenty more to add, not sure how long you wanted them.

Chapter 1


I stared at Sol cutting the edge of the hill that was the foundation for Five Scoops.
One of the first encampments of the new order who weeks prior had scourged through the land in their advance north.
What was once a healthy forest with roots entangled along the ground was now nothing more then a desolate wasteland littered with its remains.
The few plants who still remained had already started suffocating under the dominant mycelium taking its first steps out of the island from where the horde were initially summoned.
I approached the coastline passing the old mysterious shed laid down by settlers before us, their frail cold bodies offered good nurishment for the ever growing fungus.
At the waterline my eyes fixated upon Thorlack struggling to measure the mast for our new ship, it would be the biggest one yet. Perhaps the biggest one in these lands.
His goal was the same as mine, the same as all of us. No futher would we accompany the great alliance conquest north, our interests lay the unforgiving sea east.



Edited by Nocturnes

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11 hours ago, Retrograde said:

Okay which ones am I reading on stream? 

Mine, since you never answered if I could submit my thread or not

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A story about my deed, the City of Dreams and the darkness that lies in wait for your mortal soul.



Our story begins in the City of Dreams. It is a marvellous jewel in the lands of wurm.  Overlooked by the shadow of mount gloom.

Many people from far and wide come and visit the city by travelling through the portal to find their soul.  For in this city, you can be anyone, anything!  The wonders of this world are at your fingertips, quite literally. All that you have to do is just conquer your fears and life in these lands will be prosperous for you.

There is something that you will have to do though!  For you see, the City of Dreams was under attack by the Army of Nightmares. All manner of evil creatures lived in those dark woods.


Horrible Nasty looking Trolls with arms as big as a house roamed the mountains looking for fresh meat to smash into dust.

Wolves from the depths of hell itself would tear your bones apart in their flaming jaws of darkness.
Oh and lets not forget about the master of the web.  The weaver of darkness, that lures you in to its icy grip and will never let you go.

These are all of the monsters that lie beyond the city walls.  For if you want to live in the City of Dreams, you must face the darkness of the world. 


So come through the portal and make your dreams a reality.


Wurm is waiting for you.


Edited by Zexos

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Here's my entry, just in time!

I woke to a gentle whisper in the nearby grass. I sat up wearily and rubbed my eyes. The sun cast a warm glow through the walls of my red cotton tent. My muscles ached. I repaired some minor damage to my bedroll and started packing up. My stomach growled as I picked up my empty pottery bowl and tucked it into my backpack along with a handful of cotton and some healing covers. While I had been fortunate with the weather during my travels, my plan of living on raw foraged mushrooms and berries was not going well. I could find enough to fill my belly, but my strength continued to fade each day. Still, I could not remember having experienced such joy in my life. I had spent each day searching for sprouts and planting trees, and I helped wild animals find mates and replenish their numbers. While my body weakened, my spirit flourished.
The whisper in the grass returned, pulling me from my thoughts. I paused to listen, but heard nothing more. I stepped through the opening of the tent and looked around at the peaceful forest, glistening with dew. Silence.
"Must have been the wind," I mumbled, and started taking down the tent.
I finished up and checked my surroundings, satisfied that my presence had not caused any damage to the land. In the shadows nearby, a weathered floor loom on a crumbling stone slab stood as a reminder that humans had settled here once, sometime long ago. A breeze fluttered softly through the trees, and I noticed a sprouting maple near the space where my tent had been. I picked up my sickle and started to remove the sprout with expert precision, taking great care not to harm the tree or its delicate offspring. With warmth in my heart I set to work planting the sprout nearby, so focused on my task I did not hear the anaconda move in closer behind me.
It struck like lightning with a vicious bite to my lower leg, holding tightly as I leapt forward in shock. The sickle flew from my hands, landing just out of reach. I tried to break the fall but failed, pain sparking in my wrist. I rolled over, weakly thrashing my leg. The anaconda's massive body started curling toward my head, its jaws firmly locked on my leg. I grabbed its head tried to pull, but its teeth were embedded in my flesh and its grip was iron. Blood streamed from the wound. The snake flexed and used its weight to roll me over, wrapping its body around mine. The pressure increased as we rolled again. I still had one arm free, so I punched and slapped the beast in a pathetic show of weakness. It rolled me over once again, wrapping more of itself around me, trapping my free arm and and further tightening the pressure. Something cracked, and my vision became blurred and tinged with red. Smooth scales pressed against my throat. We rolled again, and again. As darkness closed in and my consciousness faded, so did the pain, and in that last moment I realized that my body would nourish the forest. My death would bring life. I relaxed and welcomed my fate.
While I slipped further into the darkness, the forest floor began to rumble and a pulse of warm energy swept through the clearing. The beast suddenly released its grip and slipped away, leaving me broken and bleeding in the grass. I tried to open my eyes, but whether they were open or closed, I could see only a dark, swirling red mist. Somewhere in the distance I heard a fluttering of leaves and grass as the rumbling grew more powerful and a gentle, warm breeze passed over me. My body started to tingle, and the red mist was washed away by swirls of vibrant green and golden light.
I opened my eyes and gasped for air. Precious air! This time there was no red; I could see the blue sky above and forest around me. I was in the same grassy clearing, but all the pain was gone. My body was completely healed. In fact, I felt better than ever. The hunger that had plagued me since I left home had faded, but instead of weakness from fasting, I felt completely replenished, charged and renewed. The warm breeze passed over me again. After a moment, it happened again. I had never experienced the wind having a rhythm like this before. And why was it so warm? A soft creaking sound reminded me of an old ship drifting in a calm sea. I felt a creeping sensation that something was watching me.
I slowly turned my head and gasped as I saw the colossal, gnarled roots of two unimaginably ancient oaks that were certainly not there before. The great walls of bark were covered in tangled vines and seemed to move and pulse in a way that made no rational sense. My wonder turned to terror when I looked up and saw that the two ancient trees were not trees at all, but the legs of a towering giant. I screamed and stumbled backwards into the grass. My heart pounding, I tried to pick myself up and run, but stumbled again. The creature leaned forward and placed its enormous hands around me to create an inescapable prison of bark and moss. I was trapped like an insect. I dropped to the ground and curled into a pitiful ball to await my death, again.
"Be still, little sprout. You are not in danger now." The giant's voice was like rolling thunder before a welcome rain. He blew gently into his palms, and my fear slowly began to fade. I gazed up into the ancient face of the forest, tears of inexplicable joy filling my eyes.
"Who.. what are you?" I whispered.
"I am an Avatar of Fo," said the giant. He stood up slowly, releasing me. I remained where I was, feeling strangely calm.
"Fo," I echoed faintly. I thought I had heard this name before, but could not recall when or where. I waited for an explanation. The creature seemed to understand, and he straightened to his full height as if he was preparing for something.
He began to speak:
"I am Fo. I am the Silence and the Trees.
The sprout is my symbol.
Silent and lonely I lingered in darkness. Look around you. I created this of love and loneliness.
You are all like, but different. You are all dirt. You are all gems. You just come in different shapes and colors.
Do my bidding. Let all things grow into the splendor they may possess. Strive after beauty and harmony with nature. Let your soul become a lustrous gem.
With the same passion by which I once created all this, strike down at those who aim to destroy these creations.
Love me. Let me love you."
The words resonated so deeply in my heart I fell to my knees and bowed before the god I had unknowingly worshipped my whole life. A flock of birds exploded into the air as the giant burst into joyful laughter, a mighty and wonderful sound that shook the forest around us and made the trees dance. He leaned forward to get a closer look at me.
"Do you reject Fo's gift?"
I looked up in surprise and frowned, picking fragments of bark from my hair. "What do you mean?"
He leaned in closer. "You fed yourself to a snake, little one."
"That wasn't on purpose!"
The giant made a deep rumbling sound before returning to his full height and speaking again. "You abandoned the safety of your village to travel alone in wild lands with no armour or weapon for protection. Surely you knew the danger, and indeed, when it came, I could sense that you were dying with satisfaction as though you had fulfilled your life's calling. Explain this to me."
I sighed heavily. "I cannot live among my own kind. They bring death and destruction wherever they go! They expect me to do the same, but I can't! I only wanted to heal the land and spread life. To bring balance."
The avatar was silent for a moment, gazing toward the distant mountains. 
"Tell me, please, how you shall spread life and healing across the land while your flesh decomposes in the belly of a snake." The forest danced again in response to his thunderous laughter.
My cheeks flushed. "I didn't think of that."
The giant laughed some more and then leaned forward again, blocking the midday sun. His ancient face of branches and moss seemed to offer a sympathetic smile. Another wave of soothing energy washed over me as he continued. "You have much to learn, but your devotion to Fo's creations is pleasing. If you wish, you may become a priestess of Fo so that you may live among your own kind, in safety, while you help replenish the land and share your passion for nature's beauty."
"Oh, yes!" My eyes lit up as I imagined the possibilities. The avatar emitted a pleasant rumbling sound of approval and my spirit soared with a new sense of purpose.
"Then so it is. Allow me to grant you this blessing of protection while you find your way. For now, you will have less need for food and drink, and predators will show less interest in you. This is your second chance, little one. Do not waste it."
He surrounded me with his colossal palms once more and from the walls of ancient bark, a brilliant light poured out, forming a swirling orb around me. My spirit hummed with joyful resonance, and the light vanished, leaving a faint glow behind.
"Go now. Find a good home among your people, where you may shine brightly and share the beauty of life with them. Teach them to love my creations as you do."
The forest was flooded with a burst of green light and the avatar dissolved into thousands of trees, vines, mosses, flowers, and all kinds of creatures that scattered far across the land. I stood in the silence that remained, contemplating everything that had just happened, when the distant sound of human voices pulled me back to the present. I picked up my backpack and sickle, eager to begin my journey home. The sun was already lowering in the sky, and I knew I had to find shelter before the avatar's protective spell wore off.
I took a few steps toward my new life and then paused, looking back at the spot where my tent had been. First, I had to plant that sprout.


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While we're at it, I thought I might repost an old story based on Wurm lore. I wrote it a few years ago, but it may be new for many younger readers. Please note that this entry is non-competitive - it may just be a good read :). Enjoy!



The Treasure Of The Ageless


PART I: The Four Kings

At the dawn of civilization, when the World Of The Wurm was still young, in an ancient era long before humans arrived in the lands now known as the Freedom Isles, four mighty kings gathered in the grand hall of the Library of Sorrow. They were the true rulers of the four kingdoms of the Ageless, enthroned in the ancient time by the Four Gods themselves. Although the kings were immune to the passing of time, they felt that the era of the Ageless was coming to an end. In response to their prayers the Four Gods had revealed the future to every one of them, and it was clear that all complaints and appeals to Fo, Magranon, Vynora and Libila would be in vain.



"This world of ours will soon belong to a new race", they said. "Even the Keepers of the Truth, our mighty army, will not impede the inevitable, as the gods foresee it." And they sat together for a long time, bemoaning their fate, their spirit changing from angry to sad and helpless. Finally, one of them rose and spoke: "So, the Golden Valley will soon see many new creatures, and the World Of The Wurm will finally belong to the Humans. If this is the will of the Four Gods, so be it! But, before we have to vanish, let us each create something very special, a unique item as a gift to the new race of Humans, to help them in their effort to become the owners of our beautiful world!"

And so they agreed to create four powerful and unique tools, made from the purest of silver. They returned to their kingdoms and summoned the most skillful of their blacksmiths to forge the best tools they could make from the best silver they could find.

One year later the four kings gathered again in the Library of Sorrow and they presented what had been created in their kingdoms. "The Silver Sickle will help them to plant and cultivate vast forests, so they will always have wood to make fire and build sheds", the first king said. "The Silver Knife will be priceless as a tool to produce meat, furs, hides and material, so they will never be hungry or cold", the second king continued. The third king produced a Silver Hammer and said: "The hammer will be their tool to build houses and make their own tools from iron", and the fourth king continued: "This is the Silver Trowel used for erecting the great human temples and palaces."

So they laid down the four unique tools of pure silver before them and were satisfied with what they had created. Suddenly a strong gust of wind arose and with a mighty roaring sound Libila herself appeared amongst them, filling the air with the strong odor of the Dark Realms. "So you decided to give your help to the feeble humans?", she rumbled in her mighty voice of thunder. "A sickle, a knife, a hammer and a trowel to settle and live in a peaceful world of rocks, trees and flowers? Heh! You fools!" Her laughter filled the grand hall and reverberated from the walls of the Library, making the kings tremble with fear. "How long do you believe those humans would survive in a world swarming with hostile creatures without a true weapon?", the Goddess asked. "Do you see them killing a lava fiend with a sickle? Would they attack a troll with their silver knife? What good would a hammer and a trowel do against a hell scorpious?" With these words the dark goddess disappeared.

The four ageless kings looked at each other and realized that in their grief and sorrow they had forgotten to create the most important of all tools: a powerful weapon! Embarrassed they knelt down at the altars and prayed to the Four, asking for a unique and divine weapon to give as a present to the human race. And then, finally, the most noble and powerful sword appeared in front of the altars: a large two handed sword made of pure hardened silver!

There they lay: the Silver Sickle, the Silver Knife, the Silver Hammer, the Silver Trowel and, as a gift of the gods themselves, the Silver Sword!

The four kings agreed to hide this treasure of invaluable unique items in a secure place, to make sure that only the boldest and worthiest of the human race would be able to retrieve them. So they sent out seven of their winged Scouts of Truth to explore the seven continents that were to become the home of the human race. The Seven searched for a long time, until one of them finally found a forgotten cave built by the extinct race of the Gnomes deep below a high, almost inaccessible mountain in a remote spot at the edge of one of the seven islands.



So the Treasure of the Ageless was hidden in the underground halls of the ancient Gnome people, sealed from the light of Sol by rock and soil, guarded by fierce creatures that roamed the tunnels leading to the treasure chamber.

And the millennia passed...


PART II: The Discovery

It was going to be a hot summer. According to the human calendar, week 1 of the Bear's starfall in the year of 1017 had just begun when bold explorers first set foot on the newly discovered island they had chosen to name "Deliverance". Among them was a serious, distinguished man in his best years, who called himself Yaga. Shortly after his arrival he began to explore this pristine island full of new wonders and exciting adventures. As fate would have it, Yaga first reached the north coast, but then turned east and wandered along the shores for  a long time, always alert to the dangers that emerged around him. In his efforts to escape a terrible death by one of the fierce creatures that were abundant in that wild and undeveloped country he did not realize that the coastline had impalpably made a southward turn, so that he walked on and on towards the southeast corner of the island. Unaware of his real location, he finally decided to settle in a place we now call "Serendipity Bay", one of the most remote spots in all of Deliverance.

No maps existed at that time to guide our explorer, nor were there any human settlements in the area, which later turned out to be a long narrow peninsula roughly shaped like a dog's leg. It was a harsh and hostile area of land, with rocky cliffs and steep slopes that made it particularly hard to find suitable spots for villages and farms. A high mountain range extended along the peninsula from north to south, and in the outermost corner, almost inaccessible by humans, a very tall pointed mountain peak arose. Unable to climb this prominent landmark for a long time, the first explorers adequately called it "Dragontooth Peak".



As years passed the area slowly filled with human settlements. Village after village was erected by busy craftsmen, and before long the peninsula became a civilized and lively place. One spot, however, seemed to remain as remote as ever, hardly touched by human feet in all the years that passed: Dragontooth Peak - silent, desolate and inaccessible. Only a handful of human settlers seemed to be attracted by that lonely barren area high up in the mountains, where the winds were strong and only the eagles kept them company. Among those few was Yaga who, after leaving the thriving village of Serendipity Bay, chose the area at the foot of Dragontooth Peak as his new home to live in solitude.

One day, in the winter of 1026, Yaga set out to climb the northern face of Dragontooth Peak on a quest to find iron and other mineral resources. The wind was strong and cold, and it was a real challenge to climb the steep cliff, trying not to lose grip on the slippery rock and at the same time swinging the pickaxe in an attempt to prospect for ore. All of a sudden he was alert - something was different here! The rock sounded hollow as the pickaxe came down, and there was an unexpected gush of pebbles rolling down the cliff. What was this? Could there really be an old tunnel in this remote, impassable place? A mine even? But who could have built that? The place seemed untouched, as if no human had ever set foot on it.

Excited beyond belief Yaga began to wield his pickaxe frantically, loosening smaller rocks and pebbles until, after what seemed like endless hours of mining, the rock face finally yielded to unveil an opening that could only be the entrance of an ancient underground tunnel! What a discovery! However, daylight was almost fading by then, and Yaga was so exhausted that he was unable to continue, and so he marked the spot and climbed down again to rest for the night.

On the next day, he got up early and found himself tempted to run down the mountainside and tell all his friends in Serendipity Bay, Silverhold and Anagrom Ataf about his discovery. But then again - what if it was just a random hole in the mountain? With nothing in it but rocks and stones? Wouldn't it be embarrassing to alert half of the population just because of an empty cave? So he decided to find out more about the tunnel all by himself; after all there might even be veins of precious minerals in there which he would be able to call his own!

And so it came about that Yaga, a common, inconspicuous and peaceful citizen of Deliverance, accidentally stumbled across the caves of the ancient Gnome people underneath Dragontooth Peak, the very place where the kings of the Ageless had buried their treasure several thousand years ago!


It took many adventurous expeditions into the endless maze of tunnels, and more than once Yaga almost lost his life to dangerous precipices and aggressive creatures that roamed the ancient caves. Many of the tunnels turned out to be dead ends, and Yaga had to use his pickaxe again and again to remove debris and landslides. But at last, after many weeks of adventure and exploration, he entered the large underground hall of the Gnomes. In the center there was a huge stone coffin, guarded by a giant lava fiend sleeping next to it.



Yaga knew that there was no way of fighting and defeating this beast, at least not in an open battle. The only chance was using a deceit, finding a way to outwit the guardian - but what could he do?

Carefully moving back to the quiet darkness of the tunnel that lead to the guardian's hall, Yaga pondered over his options. His exhaustion and his pounding heart reminded him of the strain and dangers he had encountered, and he finally sat down to rest. After a while he became very quiet and began to meditate. Breathing slowly he fell into a deep trance, and suddenly the answer was there! It had been there all the time, he had just been too occupied and too excited to see it! The Path of Love! Many years of meditation had made him a Guru on the Path of Love and people even called him a "Protector". With proper concentration he was sometimes able to create a stream of love and let it flow around him to affect all creatures nearby. For a short while those creatures would feel nothing but love and remain peaceful until the effect would vanish.

That was what he had to do! Slowly moving closer to the sleeping guardian he concentrated on his surroundings, collected all his meditative powers and focused his mind on a deep feeling of love. The huge lava fiend stirred, groaned, opened its eyes - and then closed them again with a deep, satisfied sigh. Carefully Yaga moved close to the coffin and opened it. Inside he found a stone plaque with an inscription engraved on it in the ancient letters of the old race of the Ageless. And next to it, wrapped in plain cloth made of cotton, there they were: the five precious silver tools, the heritage of the ageless kings, created thousands of years ago as a gift for the human race.

Knowing that there was no time to lose, Yaga quickly picked up the tools and the stone plaque, shouldered his backpack and managed to leave the hall just in time before his love effect on the lava fiend was fading.

It took many weeks of studying and reading every available book on ancient lore and history, until Yaga was able to translate the writing on the stone and he finally understood the true nature of the tools. Awed and humbled by the significance of the treasure he had found, he meticulously kept it a secret and retained the tools in a well hidden place. There they lay for more than 10 years. But eventually it became clear to him that those unique and precious items were not meant to be kept by him as a secret treasure. They were created as a generous gift to mankind, to be used by great men and women worthy of them. They are the "Tools of the Ageless": the Silver Sickle, the Silver Knife, the Silver Hammer, the Silver Trowel, and - made by the gods themselves - the Silver Sword. Rumour has it that they may still be around somewhere...




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I am the person who writes the lore for our Wurm Unlimited server- Mystic Highlands.


I would think this disqualifies me from entering a competition for Wurm Online but in the spirit of Yaga above, I enclose the first piece of work that I did. I hope that people do enjoy the read even if I cannot be part of the competition.


The first two chapters were designed to be a story of how the server could have begun. I attempted to link the story with the gods of Wurm in order to suggest my take on how things could have started many years ago in the minds of Rolf and Notch.




Chapter One- The Pre-history of Mystic Highlands

No-one quite knows how Mystic Highlands came to be, but the old folks have retold this story many times to those who would care to listen.


Legend says that the land was created by The Great Fire that engulfed and destroyed the old world. The old world was a dark, dangerous place with many hardships to be endured by all. There were originally four kingdoms each ruled by an elected leader. The oldest kingdoms, Mol-Rehan, Jenn-Kellon and Horde of the Summoned fought one another for many years. It became difficult for a person to live in these lands though it must be admitted they produced many fine warriors and the quality of their horses was known everywhere. People gradually tired of war and so prayed to their gods for help. As so often happens, there was a great price to pay for peace and it was that they must agree to start their civilisation anew. Reluctantly they accepted those conditions and the great fire sparked into life. 


The fire destroyed much of the evidence of the ancient land but with one notable exception. The capital city and Royal Family survived almost intact. The wise ones combined to use their alchemy skills to protect the city. The veil of smoke from the fire swirled around the outskirts but was unable to spread into the city. Instead it formed a dome of protection that prevented the further spread of fire and allowed the finest, most ancient buildings in the land to remain intact. It also refracted the light so that from the outside the capital became invisible.    


A new land was formed between these ancient kingdoms in an attempt to create a barrier to the hatred and ill-feeling of the old world and it was here that the gods created the new life that they hoped would spread out over the continents. The new world is now central to all the ancient kingdoms that existed for eons. No-one yet knows what the origin of the name of this land is but due to the strange happenings even on those early days, and the huge, imposing, snow-capped mountains it became known locally as Mystic Highlands.


The wise ones still talk about how when our ancestors gathered in ancient circles, the centre became a symbol of their interconnections and so it was with Mystic Highlands. At the very centre of Mystic Highlands is believed to be a stone, marked with ancient rune-like ciphers. It is known in our legend as the navel of our world and it is here that our kings and queens were crowned. It was known as a place of great importance and of mystery. It was the point of reference where all citizens needed to come together as communities for feasting, remembering their ancestors and worshipping their deities. The stone was supposed to contain details that could tell the people the precise location where the gods placed the capital of these lands. The Great Chronicle in the ancient library gave scholars the name of this city as Eldergate- The City of Dreams. Alas we do not have anyone who remembers this site. Many people have tried to rediscover our heritage but as of yet, no-one has succeeded.  


Chapter Two- The Royal Family, Government and early conflict


The first ruler of our beloved land is King Eadwulf. He was married to Queen Eoforhild with whom he had two sons and two daughters but alas he was destined to outlive all but the youngest daughter. Each child and the Queen, however, were destined to make their own indelible mark on our fledgling civilisation. The king was crowned in the temporary encampment that is Safehold so named because it is a place of safety for the citizens of this new land.


         The youngest son was Prince Alfred who was given the task of ensuring that the granaries were always kept full, the forests had wood to keep the people warm in the harsh winters and to make sure that the knights had fine horses. Alfred grew to love nature but was killed in battle protecting the kingdom and on his death was buried with his armour, favourite steed and sword. In addition to these usual artifacts, young sprouts, thorns and a bow were laid alongside his body. Pottery, cloth and food were also buried so that these could be sacrificed for favour in his new life. A fine rare silver coin was placed in his hand so that he could pay for his passage to the after-life.  The priests raised Alfred to the status of a god of our nation and he became known as Fo, god of nature.  


     The next son was Edric a huge mountain of a man. His task was to ensure that the smiths of the kingdom had free access to the many mines. Edric was an expert in locating and finding the best ores. His great love was trying to locate some rare stone He was also a just, kind man who spent his life ensuring that every person was able to try and achieve all that they dreamed of. He believed that each and every person should be born free and would often be called upon to advise the law-makers so that justice could be done. He died trying to rid the land of the evil that inevitably appears wherever humans live. Upon his death, Edric was buried with his armour, steed and great riches hewn from the deepest mines. His sword, inlaid with gems lay alongside him and a silver coin was carefully placed in his hand. Edric was raised to the status of a god by the priests and was given his name- Magranon.  


Elfgifu was the eldest daughter of Eadwulf. She loved learning and enjoyed studying the ancient legends of the kingdom. She could be often seen hunting using the bows that she had hewn from the willow that swept the banks of the lakes. Fishing was another love and once again, she would create her own fine rods from her favoured willow. Eadwulf ensured that Elfgifu could safely walk to the lakes and many fine paved paths were created. One day which was to be burned in the mind of Eadwulf the body of his daughter was found by the banks of the lake. In her hand was a bow, a rod and a book. The book was opened at a page containing an ancient map containing clues about how to reach the Mystic Stone. Had Elfgifu discovered how to reach the stone, was someone trying to prevent from doing this? Eadwulf pondered all of this over and over again. Elfgifu was buried in her finest clothes, her fastest most favoured steed and her beloved bow, rod and books. A rare silver coin was placed lovingly in the hand of the princess. The King blamed himself for the death of his daughter and was becoming increasingly distant from his Queen, his court and his subjects. Like her siblings, Elfgifu was raised to the status of a goddess and was given the name Vynora.


Queen Eoforhild had been married to Eadwulf for over thirty years. Her name was to become both significant and feared by many citizens. She was given the name from the ancient language elements eofor "boar" and hild "battle". For some unknown reason, when hunting she would always be the focus of attacks from the boars that she searched for in the forests. The Queen could be found at the side of Eadwulf in battles. She earned a reputation as a fearsome warrior. The enemy who fell into the hands of Eoforhild was not so fortunate. She would take pleasure in torturing, maiming and killing anyone who dared attack her kingdom but over the years she had started to treat her own citizens in the same sadistic manner. Her children became ashamed of what their mother had become and her husband, the King, became increasingly estranged. One day Queen Eoforhild was out hunting boar when her horse stumbled. She fell to the ground and as she lay unconscious the boar turned and gored her. The Queen died where she lay. King Eadwulf mourned his wife despite the terrible things that she had done in her later years and despite their inner feelings, the priests made Eoforhild a goddess, however they were to call her Libila, the evil, dark goddess and those who wanted to worship her were warned to think hard before doing so.


King Eadwulf was filled with despair, anger and sadness at his losses and was seen less and less in court and in his lands though the love of his land was undiminished. The only time his subjects would hear from him were when he asked them for tax due on their small estates or when they were rewarded with a coin for dispatching a dangerous creature. The one bit of light in his life was his youngest daughter- Princess Leofflaed. She had been named such from our ancient language leof "beloved" and flæd "beauty". As her father remained away from the people, Leofflaed became more and more influential in the kingdom. The court and the priests came to love her and trust her. It was her ambition to see the kingdom restored to its previous glory. She dreamed of a kingdom of strength but also a kingdom where the law was respected. She was, like her sister, absorbed by the ancient texts and legends. She longed to discover the ancient stone in the centre of the land and from it discover the site where the new capital was to be built.   


Leofflaed had long since been prepared by trusted servants to take on more and more responsibility and had already been given more powers by her father; however, she herself yearned for her father to return to leading the kingdom as was his birthright and indeed his destiny. One day, a famed mystic named Justus approached Leofflaed to warn her that one of the initiates, Mustes, had talked of destroying the kingdom and creating a theocracy which was precisely what the priests had vowed never to do.


Leofflaed determined to keep this news from her father and so she called Mustes forward and confronted him with the accusation of trying to usurp the throne and destroy the kingdom that her father had so lovingly built up. Mustes remained silent, closed his eyes and vanished to the remotest part of the kingdom. Leofflaed talked with her most trusted priests and after some thought calmly made two edicts. The first was that Mustes and anyone who supported his aim were to be forever banished from the kingdom. The second was that anyone who supported the kingdom against Mustes was to be well rewarded in coins according to their effort in battle.


The Royal Family now lives in the citadel which dominates the city of Eldergate. Only they and a small number of trusted servants know the exact location of where they live. Mustes was banished from the city before the protective veil from the fire and so is now unable to return to Eldergate. His aim, to destroy the kingdom must wait until he is able to locate the city once more. The city shall have to remain hidden until it can be certain that the fledgling citizens are able to protect their beloved Royals. 



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On 9/28/2020 at 8:40 PM, Retrograde said:

Okay which ones am I reading on stream? 

You are going to read pandy's she put her heart into it.

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