Scholars of Novia CONTEST #1 "The Sisters Grim" Starts: September 24, 2014

(Not sure if these are 'eerie' enough for consideration, but I had fun writing them anyway... )


Yalanah's Songbook.

*A somewhat battered leather-bound journal, carefully inscribed inside the front cover with this dire warning...*

Some of these songs were taught me by my grandpa, so you better not go stealing them and claiming they're yours or I'll whack ya!


The Ballad of the Hunter

The hunter wandered off the trail
Into the woods so fair;
Ignoring elders' cautious tales
Of what awaited there.

He saw a figure through the trees,
A lithe and lovely girl;
She locked his heart and stole the keys
And left his head a-whirl.

He loved her eyes of deepest green,
He loved her shining hair;
Oh, never had the hunter seen
A maiden quite so fair.

She skipped away out of his sight
As quickly as she could;
He ran, no heed to coming night,
Deep into the wood.

He followed her, proclaiming love,
She led him ever on;
She knew that by the stars above
He soon would be undone.

He loved her eyes of deepest green,
He loved her shining hair;
Oh, never had the hunter seen
A maiden quite so fair.

He followed her into the grove,
And to the largest tree.
The look she gave, the spell she wove,
Held him too blind to see.

Her magic, taken from the night,
Had helped her to deceive;
She wrapped her arms around him tight
And he could never leave.

If you see eyes of deepest green,
If you see shining hair;
Remember you should never be
Too bold to take good care.


The Lady

Gather ye round, folks, listen to my tale.
Sit yourself down, folks, grab yourself an ale.
Hold on to your children, keep them by your side,
Never let them go alone into the darkling night.

For the Lady comes a-walking, before the break of day,
Preying on the innocents, taking them away.

The Lady was a noble lass, she lived up on the hill,
Within the largest manor house; you see it standing, still.
She had the best of everything, diamonds, pearls and gold,
But what she wanted most of all was just a babe to hold.

For the Lady comes a-walking, before the break of day,
Preying on the innocents, taking them away.

The years went by, the Lady cried, her Lord was in despair;
He longed to give the greatest gift unto his Lady fair.
And then one joyous winter day, the Lady once more smiled
When her husband fondly kissed her brow and handed her their child.

Her heart was full, her dream complete; she gazed upon the boy
And swore her life to keep him safe, the source of all her joy.
But happiness would be short-lived when Fate wielded Her knife,
And Winter's icy fingers crept inside and stole his life.

For the Lady comes a-walking, before the break of day,
Preying on the innocents, taking them away.

The Lady could not bear it, her dreams had turned to rust;
Her husband heard her cries too late, he found her in the dust.
And now a lonely spirit roams from hill to dale to lea,
Seeking souls of innocents to keep her company.

When the Lady comes a-walking in the dead of night,
Hide under your blankets, wait patiently for light.
For the Lady comes a-walking, before the break of day,
Preying on the innocents, taking them away.


Ravensmoor

Who is fool enough to seek
The riches of the dead,
When the bones of those who've fallen
Still stand guard with eyes of red?

If you venture south of Braemar,
Try not to lose your head
To the bones of those who've fallen
And the aura of the dead.

Leave the place abandoned,
Sealed for evermore.
For who is brave enough to face
The dead of Ravensmoor?

A Throne of Bone is what they say
Resides in caverns vast,
But you'll feel cold hands around your neck
And soon you'll breath your last!

Leave the place abandoned,
Sealed for evermore.
For who is brave enough to face
The dead of Ravensmoor?

Evil gathers strength there,
The dead shall never rest,
And they will take the rest of us
To join them in their quest.

Leave the place abandoned,
Sealed for evermore.
For who is brave enough to face
The dead of Ravensmoor?



[edit: Sadly I have no aptitude for music and couldn't carry a tune if it had a handle on it, so I can't set these to music. But I kind of hear them in my head as a traditional English folk music sort of style. ]

 

Come gather round the hearth for tales of plight,
The Sisters they shall feast merrily this night.
Stories weaved to bring chills to the bone,
For the horrors laid here soon will fill their tome.

The Deadline is soon upon us! Remember October 6, 2014 (at midnight, GMT) all entries must be in if you wish to be entered into the contest.

 

Dolly​

Little Lynette ran to the end of the garden to see the parade. She was six going on seven, cute as a button, and loved by all. Her mom kept her dark hair in pigtails that flew all over the place when she ran.

The doll was sitting with its back to a fence post. Shiny gold hair, clear blue eyes, pink cheeks, rose bud lips, all framed in a perfectly symmetrical face. A work of art in a blue dress, white pinafore, blue and white striped stockings, completed by shiny patent leather shoes. Lynette reached through the fence, grabbed the doll, and clutched it to her heart. She ran back to her house.

“Look Mommy, look. See what I found. Her eyes close when I lie her down.”

Her mom took the doll. It was perfect, spotless, and smelled faintly of lavender. “Ohh Lynette , you can’t keep it. She must belong to another little girl who has lost it. We will have to give it back.”

“No! No! She’s mine. I love her,” cried Lynette l, stamping her feet. “She told me she wants to stay with me.”

“Sweetheart, she can stay the night, but tomorrow we must look for her owner. If we can’t find who lost it, then you can keep her.”

“Dolly says all right. But she told me no one else wants her.”

“Good girl. Now put Dolly on your bed, wash your hands, and help me candy these apples. Everybody will want one at the bonfire tonight.”

“Yes Mommy,” Lynette answered tucking her new doll into bed. “Dolly says we really must keep her.”

As Lynette left to wash her hands, the doll’s eyes opened, turned slowly towards the mother’s back, and glared.

“She was a really good girl for me tonight,” said Lynette’s Aunt. “A little scared about all the commotion outside, but settled down once she got into bed with her new doll. It’s quite beautiful isn’t it. Lynette wanted to know what was going on, so I told her people believe that on the last night of the tenth month, the wall between this world and the next grows weak, so everyone is out making fires and noise to ward off evil. She just smiled and said that Dolly was here and would look after her.”

“Thanks Sis. I am glad you didn’t tell her that this is also the night of the Cataclysm. She doesn’t need to know about that for some time yet. You go out now, have fun, but stay out of trouble,” said Lynette’s mother as she shut and bolted the door.

It was well past midnight when Lynette awoke. The bedroom was dimly illuminated by the light from the largest remnant of the shattered moon shining through the window. Dolly clung like a backpack as Lynette carefully climbed out of her bed. The doll’s eyes were now an icy transparent blue, its rosy complexion chalk white, red lips turned down, and the perfectly symmetrical face distorted with malice. Together, they dropped silently to the floor and crept silently closer to the sleeping parents. The faint aura flickering between Lynette and Dolly brightened as they got near. Streamers of ethereal fire flared between them and her sleeping father. He appeared to inhale the glowing filaments and suddenly sat bolt upright.

Her mother, awakened by the light and commotion, was halfway out of bed before her husband seized her around the neck and crushed her windpipe. Lynette and Dolly stood and watched the struggle. A cruel smile played around the doll’s mouth as it licked its lips They were the last thing Lynette’s mother saw before death took her. At that moment, the aura now surrounding them all momentarily brightened, then collapsed into an intense ball of light that flew silently out the window. Lynette father collapsed onto the floor and Lynette and Dolly climbed back into bed.

The next day Lynette’s father was arrested for murder and taken away to jail. Three of Kingsport’s guards were posted inside Lynette’s house to keep order and prevent any looting, but they quickly set about looking for something to steal. In the child’s bed were two beautiful dolls, arm in arm, one with golden hair, the other in dark pigtails.

“Well,” said the skinny one, “I guess I’ll take these for the kids in the orphanage.”

 

As Torniquet approached and entered the Lich Crypts he thought of one of his many dark poems, and immediately scratched it into a Sarcophagus with his dagger....

DANSE DE MACABRE-

LISTEN TO THE WIND AS IT ROLLS THROUGH MY GARDEN OF DEATH,

LOST SOULS WITH NO HOME ICY COLD THEIR BREATH,

EVERYTHING IS AT PEACE HERE OH THE STORIES THEY TELL,

FOR THEY ARE THE ONES THAT ARE LEFT HERE BETWEEN HEAVEN AND HELL,

THEY DANCE HERE EVERY NIGHT WISPY SOULS THEY ENTWINE,

WAITING FOR THE LOVE THEY HAD LOST TO SHOW THEM A SIGN,

NOCTURNAL DANSE DE MACABRE LEADING NEWCOMERS TO THEIR HOME,

GIVING COMFORT AND LOVE TO THE ONES THAT ARE NOW ALONE,

GRAVESTONE SHADOWS BY THE MOON AS IF SHIELDING THE HEAT,

CREATE LONG BLACK SHADOWS LIKE A DARK SILKEN SHEET.

AS THE MOON GIVES WAY TO THE LIGHT OF THE SUN,

ONE LIFE HAS COME TO AN END AS ANOTHER HAS BEGUN.

Torniquet/blaquerogue

 

The Smokehouse
(author unknown)

A man returning from a day’s hunt stepped from the forest into the clearing surrounding his woodland homestead. Long shadows from a westering sun reached from the tree line and wrapped around the small cottage. Light spilled through the open door and spread across the empty yard.

“I’m back” he called out.

He had expected his boy to be waiting, eager to see what game he had caught. Or at least the dog to come bounding out. But all was quiet.

A disappointing homecoming for a disappointing hunt. All he had to show for the day were two quail. They made a fine dinner for tonight, but he needed to start putting away stores for the coming winter. Not that he was worried about insufficient food. In another two weeks it would be cold enough to slaughter the hogs and smoke the hams and sausages that would last them until spring. But more variety meant a less bleak winter.

As he approached the cottage door, he heard soft crying. He stepped inside.

His son sat on a chair near the fire of the kitchen hearth, legs pulled up, knees under his chin, arms wrapped around his shins. His eyes were red and puffy.

“What’s the matter son?” he said. “Where’s your ma?”

The boy looked up and took a shuddering sniff. “She ain’t got back from the market yet.”

The man’s throat clenched. She should have been back hours ago. He glanced over the empty cottage.
“Where’s Burley?” It was unlike the hound to leave the boy, especially when he was distressed.

“He runned off when the monster showed up.”

The man blinked.

“The what?”

“The monster.” The son buried his face behind his knees. “It was horrible. I was so scared pa.”

“Monster? What are you talking about?”

The son looked up, his voice now prideful. “But I caught it pa, I trapped it in the smokehouse. You’d be proud of me. I caught it, Pa!”

“What nonsense are you talking? You’ve got some animal in the smokehouse?” It was typical of his son’s boyish imagination. He probably trapped a raccoon in there. And the rafters were still hung with smoked trout from this summer’s fishing trip. The critter would be gorging itself. The man flushed with anger. He dropped the quail on the table next to his son and walked back out the front door, leaving it ajar.

He walked around to the smokehouse. The small outbuilding was constructed of stout oaken timbers, grayed with age and streaked with black stains where years of smoke found exits through chinks in the boarding. It was meant to keep out scavengers and protect the precious contents during the long smoking process. Now it was holding something in.

The man paused at the door and listened. He thought he heard something faint, like rope stretching against wood. What could the boy have caught in there?

He slipped his hunting knife from its sheath and pushed the door open a crack. The setting sun no longer reached through the surrounding forest, and the growing darkness, coupled with the black, smoke-stained interior of the smokehouse made it impossible to see inside. The man waited a moment, satisfied to let whatever animal was inside run free into the forest, no doubt with a belly full of fish.

But nothing emerged, and the man heard no noise from within.

He pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside. He could make out nothing but smoked fish hanging from the closest rafters. He moved further in, and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he discerned a tall shape suspended from a rafter in the back of the room. He stepped closer, gripping his knife.

His wife’s body dangled from the rafters by a rope that bound her wrists. Next to her, their only son was similarly suspended. Behind him, the dog hung from its hind legs.

His son’s head lifted slowly and one eye opened.

“Pa, there’s a monster,” he said hoarsely. “It looks like me.”

Stars exploded before his eyes as a tremendous weight impacted the base of his skull.

His face hit cold, packed dirt. He tasted soot. He was vaguely aware that he was on the floor of the smokehouse.

As if from a great distance, a voice cackled, “Oh, how well I will eat this winter!”

Blackness consumed him.

 

Wow... here I thought I stood a chance *laughs*

Good stuff guys!

 

I have received word from the Grim Sisters that they thank you all for your submissions, they are hungrily digesting each tome and will be coming forth well before R11 with the winners.

I Wish you all Good Luck!

Contest submissions now closed. No Further Submissions from this time will be accepted.

Thank you all!!

- Amber Raine -
Grand Master of Scribes
Scholars of Novia

 

*waits impatiently* (lol)

Seriously though, a fantastic run by everyone! My wife, children, some of my family (the ones who I visited during the contest entry period) and I all loved everything we read here! A round of applause for all the entries!

 

*claps as hard as possible*

Really great entries here and strong competition. I really enjoyed all entries and hope to see them in the game.

 

Good reads from everyone, good luck to all!

 

The Grim Sisters, Vomica and Repugna, are still consuming every word submitted by so many authors. They read and re-read each morsel. They are enthralled by each book. They laugh. They bicker. They ponder. It's taking longer than we Scholars hoped. We listen to them with amusement or bemusement.

The Sisters should have their Winner selections next week before R11 starts.

Sincerely,

Winfield
Grand Master of Scholars
Scholars of Novia

 

It comes with saddened heart, yet full understanding that we will be unable to release the winners for this contest until after Thursday. Our special guest judge has found themselves a little more then bogged down and unable to read over the stack of stories that have been placed on her desk. We would like to welcome those who submitted stories to bring them to the many different story times that are happening in Shroud this weekend. Port Phoenix story time would be a great place to share your wonderful work.

We apologize for this delay. Yet it is completely understandable and hope that you, our wonderful entrants will also show as much understanding, knowing that sometimes unforeseen circumstances occur, this will be done. We just will not be able to get them out to you *yet*.

 

Don't worry about that. I think everyone knows this "much-to-do-less-time-for-that thing" .

 

It really does not matter if I do not win today or on Friday or next month

And even if I win it does not matter when, so do not worry.

 

No worries... I have already received all the reward I sought... getting to read these stories, and then read them to my children, was more than sufficient *mwuahahahahahaaaaa!*

 

​

Upon the wings of a bat it came​

The letter awaited with a list of names​

We awaited in the dark for it to arrive​

Allow us now to find out which five shall survive.​

​

There were many a great story that was entered into our contest and so many great authors that it was most difficult to find a winner! In fact it was such a challenge that the sisters wished to keep them all as winners, however we were quite insistent they choose an order and from that order, the top 5 were drawn. The prizes to these 5 stories is to have their stories published into our home in New Britannia by none other then Portalarium themselves! We also have a grand prize that was delivered to give to the number 1 story. As you have all waited long enough... I now present the 5 top stories:

#5 Moonlit Vigil - Author Spoon - Congratulations!​

- prize: publication into Shroud of the Avatar by Portalarium​

​

#4 Mirror Mirror - Author Gaelis - Congratulations!​

- prize: publication into Shroud of the Avatar by Portalarium​

​

#3 Smokehouse - Author Gnarrow - Congratulations!​

- prize: publication into Shroud of the Avatar by Portalarium​

​

#2 The Journal of Dereck Warden - Author Net - Congratulations!​

- prize: publication into Shroud of the Avatar by Portalarium​

​

And the winning story for first place:​

​

#1 A Tale of Braemar - Author royalsexy - Congratulations! ​

- prize: publication into Shroud of the Avatar by Portalarium and from the Grim sisters themselves, a new cute black kitten! (donated by Browncoat Jayson)​

​

Congrats to the winners!! And to each of the entrants, job well done and thank you for your patience! They were all so very well written that even if you did not win in the top 5, we the Scholars of Novia would like to offer you a place in our wiki as well as publication when we are able upon the Scholars own printing press!

We will be creating a new thread that will have each of the authors edited story within it. We will be requesting that each author please sign that thread with your statement that this is indeed the story you submitted to the final contest and are accepting it being printed.

Again congratulations to everyone!

- Amber Raine
~Grandmaster of Scribes, Scholars of Novia~

 

I cannot believe it, I actually won?! (Well, I know I was second, but it is still victory for me as the story gets into the game).

Congratulations everyone, it is really shame that more stories could not win, because they were all awesome.

 

Congratulations to all the winners!
I enjoyed reading all the stories in the contest, your all very talented

 

Sweet. In by a hair...


Congratulations to all, and a grand thank you to the Scholars of Novia for all the time and effort that you all have put into making and arbitraring something like this.
It is very appriciated.
*Spoon bows to Scholars of Novia*


(Now I just have to figure out how to win/loot/steal that kitten from royalsexy Lux needs its kittens).

 

Congratulations RoyalSexy! And Congratulations all runner ups!