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Spooky goings on

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Spooky Goings On


It is fast approaching that time of year, when the wolves howl the witches ride across the sky and the little demons come out to blackmail upstanding citizens.


Yes it is Halloween.

So for a bit of fun we thought it would be nice to have a bit of a writers contest.


So here is how it goes.


We challenge you to write a short el themed Halloween story, poem or song.

You can post it in this thread, or pm me your entry and I will post it anonymously for you. (However your name will be used when the winners are announced should you win)


There will be a panel of judges who will read and decide upon the winner based on what they consider to be the best entry.


Whilst Spelling & punctuation will be considered don’t worry if it isn’t that good or you are a non native English speaker as long as the story/poem/piece its self is good you will stand a chance of winning (as if i could complain about poor spelling :P)



We will have a roleplay based campfire gathering over the Halloween weekend (on the Sunday night GMT) where we can have a bit of spooky fun and announce the winner of the contest.


The Rules

1 Entry’s should be no longer than 1000 words (we aren’t after epics here peeps and they can be much shorter if desired )

2 Lets keep them clean please

3 If you are going to use another players name in your entry please ensure you get their permission 1st

4 Have fun with them


Important dates:

Competition closes: Sun 25th October

Campfire party: Sun 1st November Evening GMT: 21:00

Winners announced: Sun 1st November evening GMT 22:00


The judges will be announced here on the day the competition ends. (oct 25th)


Now for the prize: the winner will get a Scythe and black robe set (thank you to our resident spooky yet hidden benefactor for the scythe)

We will also choose up to 3 runners up who will win a robe set each. (thank you to a different and a little less scary benefactor for these)


Any questions can be posted here, or again send me a forum pm and ill try and answer as best I can.


All I can say now is have fun with it, good luck...and don’t hold me accountable if anyone was nightmares reading the resulting pieces :hehe:

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On those cold nights of winter, when you decide to take a walk and breath a different air, you shouldn't be too peaceful inside... you know your demons want to scream to the world the truth of your been...

You stop... look around and only see some trees... the moon seems to laugh of you, as enormous as the fear you start to feel...



Was that shoot real or your mind begins to play you a joke? You don't know... and don't want to... “Run! Run! Run!” said to yourself... but your legs don't answer...


The wind shakes the leaves and some shadows had surrounded you. You're too afraid for scream for help... *Fainted*



You hardly open your eyes, a strong white light blinds you... there are some white beens next to you... you can't understand anything... or remember anything...


“You had a heart attack, stay calm”




Written by Dipi, 1st September 2009.-

All rights reserved.


I allow to use it for this event in the way the managers think appropiated.


P/S: my english isn't perfect, i'm a spanish speaker, feel free to make corrections.

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Based on your signature, I'd say you're quite a spooky one yourself. :P


Thank you! I wish you my worst nightmares :hehe:

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Based on your signature, I'd say you're quite a spooky one yourself. :)


Will you be submitting an entry or shall we wait and find out?


No i shall not be subjegating you all to the horrific nightmare that would be a tale of woeful spelling, murdered grammar, and terrifyingly deep plot holes :P


or more seriously. this is a event for you all to enjoy im looking forward to the reading part this time :) which i see has been started by Dipi


Nice job Dipi :hehe:

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He was walking through the Mocraven Marsh. Again.

GAIWS broadcasted an invasion. Again.


He decided to hide in the village. Again.


He opened the door, entered the hut, closed the door behind him. He was here many times, waiting for the invasion to end. He waited for GAIWS to broadcast the end. The time passed. GAIWS was silent. Tired of waiting, he opened the door.


He saw the end.


Barren wasteland - Sun being the light, yet invisible behind the curtain of thick fog. Creatures, roaming - sneaking - crawling in the darkness, shapeless, without any purpose. He knew he had to run, but the pain... something happened.




Cold, as ancient as what caused it. Darkness, unpenetrable.


"Is he okay?" "Out cold. Must have been apoplexy."


Captured, waiting for doom. "Welcome to my crew" - he heard. "My name is Selain, and it's time to put your soul to a good use."


Twisted sight, twisted mind, twisted soul. <Arctic Chimerans invasion in 3... 2... 1...>


Hope you like it.

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Very nice work Wesmania! :)


i have 2 points to note:


1)iirc it's "GIWS" (Global Invasion Warning System)



2)lol i can see my signature again :P



Twisted sight, twisted mind, twisted soul. <Arctic Chimerans invasion in 3... 2... 1...>

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Knock knock knock

(door opens)

Ah, good morning sir, Devilmaycare parcel delivery service. I have a parcel for you. Please sign here, here and here.

In blood please sir, if you dont mind sir.

No sir, I am not evil..no no no, most definetly not evil.

I beg your pardon sir, you think Im the Devil and you dont trust me? What on earth gives you that impression sir?

Horns you say? Red skin and cloven hooves....well, yeees, I suppose I do have those I admit, but that doesn't prove a thing

Wreathed in flames you say? Wearing a cape and carrying a trident.....well, it gets very nippy out here in the mornings you know, and as for the fork, how else am I supposed to make my elevenses toast?

(door slams shut)

Sometimes I really have to question whether Im cut out for this anymore




This may need a little work but could be quite a good sketch

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1 story/poem/song per person, or can we submit more? I asked in game and we can submit more than 1 thing.


Dance with a Yeti


A lone wolf howls at the full moon, a branch snaps in the underbrush. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as fear momentarily freezes you in place and empties your mind of all rational thought. Something huge crashes through the dark forest behind you. Your hands and face become numb as your body reacts to the sudden threat, rushing blood away and redirecting the flow to your already laboring heart and lungs. Your first instinct is to run and you follow it without question.


Branches claw your body and tear holes in your clothes, but you press on. Forward progress is difficult and you can feel your heart pounding against your ribs, hear the blood rushing in your ears as you continue your head long flight from danger. Frigid air burns your lungs as you struggle to draw breath. Snow crunches under foot, mingling with the sounds of your ragged breathing and the progress of the beast in the underbrush behind you. Beads of sour sweat pop on your forehead and terrified tears course down your cheeks, freezing instantly in the bitterly cold night air.


You throw a wild, horrified look over your shoulder, seeing nothing but blackness. Oh, but it's there, so close now that you can almost feel it's breath. Terror is a bitter and noxious taste on your tongue as you realize that you can not out run it. Stumbling, falling, you tumble into the light of a clearing and pull yourself to your feet to draw your sword. Adrenaline surges and you turn to fight, the only option left...


Into the silvery moonlight it comes, white and huge, horrible and hairy, a creature of legend. It's roars echo in your head as time slows and memories of things cherished pass before your eyes. Who is screaming? Desperately you hack and slash at the beast, but all for naught. It drives you down to the snow and your last breath passes through your lips into the cold air, a little ghost of drifting vapor. Eyes that no longer see reflect the glowing orb of the moon. The creature lumbers off into the dark woods again, already forgetting what it has done. For you, the world grows dark and time stands still as a river of red stains the once pristine snow.




And now for something completely different.....




Once upon a dark night came anger and unrest

Full of riotous fury it put many to the test


In a land eternal where nothing truly dies

It brought pain and it brought fear to air that filled with cries


Many warriors battled all night and through the day

In the end the land lay wasted, while others came to pray


We ask ourselves with heavy hearts what else is there to do,

When someone goes and angers a god as vengeful as Radu?

Edited by Nova

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I am in. I am writing now and will have one submitted soon :D



ok here is my entry....



In one land built Eternal

and tears of many men,

stood a lonely little toon

in a Land of make pretend.


He hated all the human

the elvish and the dwarf,

thought of all the torture he would bring

standing on the wharf.


He walked in bitter silence

full of rage and smite,

soon he would reach his destiny

laying down his might.


Upon entering the relm

called Valley of the Dwarf

the toon took his mental anger

to action in a morph.


He slaughtered many other toons

resting on their ass.

His rage was felt across the land

as he made his pass.


Once all finished with his deed

that many felt with pain,

he disapeared for another year

to return and claim his reign.

Edited by PaulB

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1 story/poem/song per person, or can we submit more?


You can post as many as you like, if posting more than 1 i would suggest giving each a title (and sometimes its better to work on one good piece rather than lots of little ones)

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You can post as many as you like, if posting more than 1 i would suggest giving each a title (and sometimes its better to work on one good piece rather than lots of little ones)

And sometimes you have to write what comes to you, scrap that idea, try again, scrap that idea, that one was mediocre but there's little you can do to make it better, go ahead and post it, try again, have a mocha (or coffee, or whatever floats your boat), try again, stay up till 4 in the morning... holy crap that one was brilliant! its a winner. :rolleyes:

Edited by Enly

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GODz of War.


Feel it coming in the air,

panicked screams from everywhere.


I'm excited by the sounds,

there's a dangerous fight around.


Can't be stressin' bout them now,

they lack courage there's no doubt.


Running to the Deity,

blessing them for a fee.


What's your version of m'rcy,

BroDs ready; inventory.


Countless brown tags dies,

heartbroken voices cries.


Its insanely amazing,

the absurd reactions.


The reasons for this opposition,

is strangely annoyin'.


This combination calls forth,

enemies waiting of separation.


We're the reason,

half exhausted.


Holding on to our belief,

from the pr0s to the weak.


Halloween; our time to shine,

from the depths of the grime.


Heartbeats take flight,

at the sight..


of teh GODz of War.


-TigerClaw of GoW


EDIT: btw this is a song.. (it can do as a poem as well)


(at :24 in the youtube video u should be at "Its insanely amazing,")

Edited by TigerClaw

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Goddess of Evil.


In the middle of the night,

All is cleared of living sight.

A lonely lady walks the street,

Many claims her as a freak.


Revenge in her twisted mind,

Is all she seeks and ever find.

Mercy to none but one,

All the rest better run.


Her weapons shines with a light,

The fighter's skills are more then bright.

Courageous and skills to match,

Using speed to diss and catch.


Her fury has exceed the max,

With ever shattered minutes' pass.

When the clock strikes on the twelfth,

She guides many to a place called hell.


Entering Kf in a mist,

Many need allies to assist.

On this day in this year,

Living beings comes to fear.


This monster of the dark abyss,

The PKer named; Tyrannis..



By: TigerClaw of GODz. :)

Edited by TigerClaw

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Holding out the shadows fright,

We walk the greater lands tonight,

Hear the worries and feel the sweat,

Know the deaths of a hundred yet,

Walk upon the Lands not still,

Seen many a freshly killed kill,

Hear behind you a simple cruntch,

Being eaten by the one who hunts,

Seeng spots,

And being hit,

Hearing the purr as your life but drifts.


(Pome about Leonard (Alpha) by DragonGod)

Edited by DemothDrazel

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Oblivion in Shades of Black.


A darkened path, set between ominous trees,

The cries of the gouls on the midnight air,

Carried between the branches on the chilly breeze,

The red eyes of the shadow's mortifying glare.


The approaching footsteps drawing ever nearer,

The shadow guides the dagger into the neck of a lass,

Isolated screams, none shall ever hear her,

Her limp body thrown upon blood stained grass.


Poisonblade awakened from deep slumber,

Rises from the crypt in which he thrives,

Awoken by a mighty clap of thunder,

To the gates of Tarsengaard, he soon arrives.


Through his eyes observing a forein sight,

Ruins shrowded in thick black mist,

His blade he drew with all his might,

Beckoning forth the evil with it clutched in his fist.


Standing alone in the gathering black,

The shadow of Mortos swiftly did creep,

Silently moving in for the kill from the back,

Attempted to send him to eternal sleep.


Sudden flash of steel on a damned black blade,

Sending ripples through the smoke as the weapons clashed,

A final blow after many finally saw itself made,

As the barriers of existence themselves were smashed.


Now forever trapped in a vortex of swirling blackness,

The deep dark depths on an eternal abyss,

As day by day his hope faded from scarce to less,

The death of the shadow embraced him with the blackened kiss.


The fog engulfing all Seridia and Irilion,

Poisonblade trapped between two hells,

The last remnants slayed by black iron,

The weapons of the defenders fell beside their broken shells.


Now barren black and wasted burns the eternal black flame,

Eternal Lands broken and gripped by the fist of doom,

Descending into blackness the end finally came,

The limits of hell for the dead shall run out of room.


-{---Midnightmare Poisonblade---}-

Edited by Poisonblade

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The Wedding


The sky was clear, the sun was out and you could hear the sounds of nature gaily singing their songs and beckoning to each other.


It promised to be a beautiful day for the momentous event that was about to happen.


The happy couple had been planning and looking forward to this day for months, and finally the day was here and it was perfect.


The couple was standing at the altar ready to give their eternal vows of love to each other in the presence of their many friends who had filled the hall to witness this allegiance.


Suddenly, the sky darkened as if the sun had been extinguished and a terrible blood curdling sound emanated from the rafters, the altar, the windows, the doors.....everywhere!!


Shapes with large red shining eyes and fangs and claws dripping with blood seemed to appear out of nowhere and circle the hall. People were screaming and bumping into each other in their frenzy to find the doors to get out.


Gurgling sounds could be heard everywhere echoing throughout the great hall. The carnage that could be seen when the sky cleared again was more than a human being should ever have to witness.


Body parts that looked as if they had been torn from the guests were strewn about the floor in pools of blood. Heads had bulging eyes and tongues hanging out of their mouth and some were frozen in a silent scream.


This wedding day wasn't so perfect alter all.

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The Portland Miners' Song


Ting, ting, ting!

Your bags are filled with ores.


Woe, woe, woe!

The Grue took your guildies.


Run, run, run!

Skellies are after your belly.


Up, up, up!

The ladder you must go.


Hey, hey, hey!

You thought you saw a friend.


No, no, no!

Its the phantom you bantam.


Slash, slash, slash!

You are rained with pain,


slice, slice, slice!

Till your spleen is seen.


Woo, woo, woo!

Straight to Vias you go!

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Via Wolf's Meds

This night came quietly and swiftly, like any other night. Only it wasn't.

Mortimer bolted upright from his sleep. He lay in a pool of sweat, his heart racing. He threw his legs over the side of his bed and sat for a moment, scratched his goatee, ran his fingers through his thick black sweat matted hair, and stood. His legs trembled for a moment. They felt weak and like jelly.

"Somethings amiss here." He whispered to himself.

Morty stumbled around in the cold darkness of his room and found his candle. He then made his way into Lulu's room. The sun was just starting its rise by now.

He stood in the doorway to his sisters room, the candle in his hand very dimly lighting it.

He spoke softly, "Is all well dearest Lulu?"

Silence. No response.

"Lulu?" He said louder as he creeped closer to her bed.

The candle light slowly illuminated the room as he came closer, revealing-

"BLOOD!" Gasped Morty.

Blood! Blood all over the bed sheets. All over the fleshy mass sleeping beneathe!

"Who has done this!" He screamed, frantically backing away, "May Aluwen curse you!!!"


Mortimer lay on the floor lifelessly. The stool he tripped on lay broken beside him.


The sun was just going down over the western mountains when Morty regained conciousness.

He brought himself to his hands and knees, trembling in fear. The room smelled of rotting meat. He crawled over to his sisters bedside. He swallowed hard, the walls of his throat petrified in fear. The hairs on his neck stood at horrified attention. With a shakey hand he slowly pulled the blanket off the mass of flesh and blood.

And there it lay, a butchered and dismembered boar.

"Guuuuuuugh" Moaned Mortimer in a mixed sigh of relief and repulse.

He stood up. He could feel the blood rushing through his body once again now that he was no longer afraid.

But where is Lulu then? He thought to himself.

Grrrrrrrrrrlllk! His stomache growled.

Needing some food and some time to piece together the day's events, he went into the kitchen to prepare himself a big heaping bowl of boar stew. He reached into a cupboard for a cooking pot, thats when he first heard it. Very faintly.

Nrrr gaaaaa giiiiii yoooooo

His large pointed elvish ears were sure he heard it! He strained his ears to hear again.

Nrrr gaaaaa leeeeeeh yooooo duuuuun

Yes! He was sure now! But what was that strange music?

He trotted outside, just in front of his doorway, the sun now completely down.

The music was still faint. He looked to the south. His ears twitched.

"There," He said outloud," is where it's coming from. Maybe Lulu was taken there."

But that's where Orvimon Cemetary is, he thought.

The cemetary. The one place he dreaded since childhood.

No matter. I have to find Lulu.

So he set out from his house by the west gate of Tarsengaard city, down the cobblestoned street

Past the tavern smelling of bread and meat, sounding of drunks and bards.

How could have Lulu been taken, he pondered.

Past the blacksmith, he grabbed a dagger on an outside display, hoping to return it before the smith noticed its absence.

She made no noise to awaken me.

Past the storage, brightly lit yet complete quietness that could only come from the alchemists and crafters hard at work.

Everything was in its place as if there was no fight.

Past the southern city gate.

Did she even resist?


Morty stopped here for a moment and listened hard;

Neeeeeer gooaaa ruuuuu uuuuund

It's getting louder! May I stay on the right path.

He continued on.

Past Sero's Pond.

What a strange unearthly music, he continued thinking.

Past the Chrysanthemum's he and Lulu would pick in the spring time.

Almost as if Mother Nature is singing of death.


Into the darkness he kept going, the cold autumn night air stinging his cheeks.

It's like nothing my ears have tasted before. Not music of elvish nor dwarvish. Nor any other creature.

He stopped.

The cemetary gates.

He listened.

aaaa dee errrt yooo

It was almost clear as day! Mortimer gulped as he slowly pushed open the iron cemetary gate.


He trotted in, dead trees whipping him with their branches as he ran past.

"Lulu!" He cried.

He was almost to where the cemetary meets the mountainous walls.

And there he saw it.

A blood pentegram with candles scattered everywhere. And in the center of the pentagram was a red headed human, with Lulu in his arms.

It's him! He's causing this strange music!

And the human sang, this time Morty was close enough to hear clearly.

Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

"RICK ASTLEY!" Yelled Mortimer.


He looked up at Morty.

Mortimer growled, "You are not welcome in this game. Lulu! Don't believe his lies!"

But his sister layed there limp, swooned.

Mortimer drew his dagger and charged!

He pounced on Rick Astley and drove his dagger into his shoulder!


Screamed Rick in pain as he threw Morty off him.


Morty withered in pain as Rick's stab wound healed from the Life Drain spell!

Mortimer grew still, his eyes glazed, staring into nothingness.

Rick Astley returned to the pentagram and finished chanting his spell.


Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around

And desert you


Never make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

And hurt you


And at that there was a blinding flash of white light... Mortimer's sister taken away by

Rick Astley's hypnotic evil meme spell.



IGN: Wolf

Edited by LoneWolfStrider

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A story by a secret writer


Halloween bah! Stupid superstitions" I mutter angrily to myself as I saunter through the

lengthening shadows.


Everyone at store had been talking about it. Ghosties and Ghoulies! Who the heck believes in

them? Certainly not me.


Wandering along the path towards Irsis, the wind whipping through the trees, I gather my

thick cape around me and pull the hood up over my head. “Brr summer has certainly ended." I

think to myself.


I listen to the soft pad of my feet as I walk along the stony path.


Suddenly a vivid patch of colour, just off from the path catches my eye. "Mmmmmmm I wonder

what flower that is."


Always in search of new flowers for my potions, I walk over to the flowers and reach down

and pick some, placing them carefully in the basket slung over my shoulder.


"Ohhhhh and what are those," I wonder as another patch of colour piques my interest.


Further and further I amble away from the path, collecting various flowers and herbs as I



"I can't remember seeing any of these here before, how interesting!" I chatter away to



I turn and look back. Without realising it I've wandered further from the path than I had



In the swiftly gathering gloom I realise that I am lost. Trying to calm myself down,

muttering to myself that it's not a problem and that I will find somewhere I recognise soon,

I start walking briskly.


Glancing upwards I see a red glow. It seems to be beckoning silently to me. I walk towards

it and see what seems like an cave entrance.


Shrugging my shoulders I mutter aloud, "Well at least I can get out of the freezing wind for

a while."


I feel the warmth hit my face as I enter the cave. "Mmmmm that feels good!!" I move towards

the fire, warming my hands and face as I peer into the cauldron that's set over it.


Looking around the small cave I see bottles of potions and huge bunches of flowers and a

basket of fruit. "I'm sure no one will miss just one" as I help myself to a juicy green





An unearthly howl raises the hairs on the back of my neck in fear. I turn towards the

entrance, eyes wide in terror.


Through the cave entrance see movement. Glowing undulating shapes seem to be flashing

backwards and forwards across the entrance of the cave.


Quickly turning back I look round for somewhere to hide. Trembling, my eyes dart round the

cave till they see on a plank of wood resting against the rock wall just behind the basket

of fruit.


Rushing over to it I crawl quickly behind it, wrapping my brown cape tightly round myself,

trying to curl my body into a small ball.


The noises get louder, screams and screeches fill the air. I close my eyes tightly, praying

silently that no one notices me here.


I feel a rush of air against my cloak as something, or someone, passes close by me. I tense,

feeling sure that I will be discovered. I grasp a handful of my cape and press it tightly

against my mouth, trying to stifle the noise of my ragged breathing.


My heart races uncontrollably as the noises get louder and louder. I don't know who or what

is in the cave with me, but I keep my eyes tightly closed and pray that they don't discover



Time seems to stand still as I huddle against the cold rock face, until finally the noises

lessen, then cease.


“Oh thank heavens.” I draw a sigh of relief and wait for as long as I dare before crawling

out from behind my makeshift shelter. Never again will I be so thankful for a rotten plank

of wood!


Pulling the hood from my head I peer round the cave. A strange mist seems to hang in the

air but thankfully it appears to be completely empty. Standing stiffly, i start to walk

towards the door when a husky voice whispers softly in my ear.


“Are you sure you don't want another apple my dear?”


I jump and turn, seeking the owner of the voice.


“Who.... what..... where are you?” I call, seeing no one else in the cave with me.


“Most call me the Red Witch girl, and it's my cave that you have been a 'visitor' in, an

unexpected and uninvited visitor too!” The voice seems to surround me, but I still can't see

anyone it could belong to.


Turning to the entrance I run towards it in panic, almost tripping in my rush to leave the



“Hahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaa” I hear as I run full pelt through the forest, heading in what I

hope is the right direction.


Stopping to catch my breath I look round to get my bearings, and realise that the sun has

crept above the horizon, flooding the forest with sunlight.


Shaking my head in disbelief, I start to walk northwards, towards the path leading to Irsis.


Never again will I not believe, never again will I be dismissive of others when they talk of

such things.


Whatever happened last night I will probably never understand.


But I do know now that All Hallows Eve will NEVER EVER be the same!

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Hello everyone, I know you have not heard from me in a while, but I thought I might enter as well. So I wrote this little story up real quick. I miss EL and the great people who play it, I hope to get some time here soon to return. I might even make the judging on Sunday the 1st. Either way, here is my entry. It is short, but I hope it causes a litle fright. As you will see, my strengths are not in writing horror scenes. ;P


Fright in the Marsh


Rounding a dripping tree, Brom the Storyteller looked out onto Morcraven Marsh. He had ventured here before many a time, but usually he carried armour or at least a suitable weapon. All he carried today was the short dagger in the sheath his mother made from calf-hide, his casual orange shirt, which was a little tattered, and plain brown pants with unadorned boots. He was on a date after all, wearing his old bloodied plate mail was not suitable attire for going to the tavern with the girl of his dreams. Upon closer scrutiny, he realized he was not dressed in fine clothing either. Why did he always mis dress for events! First that storytellers event where he wore his plate mail complete with Battleaxe, then this, a date wearing peasants' clothes.

Asrin, a lovely elf with golden-red hair, rounded the bend, following the path from Grahams Village toward Portland, it was the shorter journey to Brom's house in Portland, the northern route was clear unless you ran into Bob the goblin heading into Portland from the north. but the south was shorter, with the chance of seeing greater foes. As she continued north, Brom considered jumping out and scaring the girl. He did after all, have the worlds biggest crush, and it might be a moment that would help them come close together.

Brom rose to his tiptoes, ready to pounce, when something hard tapped him on the shoulder, Brom turned with a start to find himself staring into empty eyes of a skeleton. Horror shot in a gout from his belly to his brain, freezing him momentarily. In that moment, the skeleton brought back him arm and shoved Brom hard in the chest, throwing him backwards. Brom landed flat on his back, his head splashing into a muddy puddle. With no time to clear his eyes from the mud, Brom crab-walked backward, as fast as he could, he knew he would soon feel rusty steel sliding into his chest, cracking ribs and bursting organs. Then he realized Asrin was coming up the path toward him! She would be attacked!

Brom opened his eyes and, through the muck and filth that covered them, he saw the skeleton break, and fall to the ground in a pile of unremarkable bleached bones. Brom stood up as quickly as he could, clearing his eyes with the corners of his hands, then saw Asrin just to the left of him, stifling laughter!

"Watch Out!" Brom said, "There may be more!." Asrin laughed aloud pointing at Brom, "You deserved that!" she guffawed. Comprehension dawned on Brom, Asrin had set this up. She had likely summoned the skeleton herself and had planned it all out. That was why he was shoved with a hand and not by the point of those rusty swords the skeletons usually carried. Upon second reflection, Brom decided this would in fact bring them together. He decided to silently plan and retaliate later, this would end up a great relationship.

Edited by Brom

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I would like to contribute a little poem too.




I woke up, sweating under my warm sheet,

goose bumps covering me from head to feet.

Something pulled me back from my scary dream,

I had heard my own voice starting to scream.


I sat up in bed and tried to recall,

it was something dark, sinister and tall.

The picture cleared before my widened eyes,

the truth was revealed behind the dark skies.


In my dream I had beamed back to the Wraith,

to invest my hard earned points in good faith.

But something had changed since my last quick stay,

a horrible sight wiped my last doubts away.


The Wraiths clothes had changed its colour to black,

looking like a black hole, all colours lack.

His otherwise empty hands held a scythe,

nearly urged me to run for my very life.


His firm voice held me back for a moment,

shouting in big pain and endless lament:

"People just come to me to get a gift,

ignoring my own needs and vanish swift."


Putting my wish for more physique aside,

I dared to answer with honor and pride:

"What is it you are longing for so hard?

Perhaps I can help you, tell me where to start."


"I would like to harvest your precious soul",

answered the Wraith gloating, "that's my goal."

Saying that he swang his scythe with great might,

I closed my eyes, knowing I could not hide.


Awaiting certain death, my dream suddenly ended,

drinking too much wine, just isn't recommended.

I dressed up for work, watched the sun shining,

as I walk to DP for some iron mining.




Seems like Thyr's siggy inspired me a bit ...

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Cold sweat and shivers take over as I dream

A dream so horrid, I’m about to scream

I’m mutated, changed, looks aren’t what they used to be

I gaze at my pixels, wonder: ,,Is this really me?”

No more pink horns, gone is my curvy waist

And as I walk, it’s like I’m in a haste

Gone are the mohawks, no orchans around

And of draegoni, only the pierced headwears are found

Cackling gnomes running around, all over the place

No more gnomecrackling in the roastingplace :’(

I’ve gone greedy, cocky and have new wits

I scream in horror, then a blue global message hits

A link to Youtube clip of a midget, his mouth oozing with foam

Telling us: As of now, the only race allowed in EL is gnome!!!


Wake myself with a loud, long scream

After a quick glance at my laptop, a sigh of relief:

Thank goodness, pink horns are still there, it was just a dream



Disclaimer: no draegoni, orchans, nor any gnomes were hurt in the process of writing this poem

Edited by Dilly

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little diddy i call deaths poem:


I awoke with a start, and i heard as it were, the noise of thunder. One of the Four Beasts saying, "Come and see." And i looked, and i saw, a pale horse.

For endless days i wandered. Through wretched fetid wastes and blistering murderous deserts. Seeking dark and ancient holes wherein lie the scribed and ancient scrolls.

Never knowing the futility of my quests profane and disastrous ends, i did their bidding and their scheming, seeking high and low... low... low.

"How long were my wanderings?" I do now know. For nearly a century, their evil i did sew. And in my evil ways, i earned their highest praise and lost my soul, though did not know.

Finally my quest doth near its end. 'Neath the oasis of the Tahraji the lair of evil, the darkest creature's den.

Into the cavern, for miles i descend, to the place of my masters far below the sands. The place where evil lays its master plan. The horrors i saw cannot be described, the pain, the loss and the love that died.

And i heard a voice in the midst of the Four Beasts, and i looked. And behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon that horse was Death. And Hell followed with him...



hope you enjoyed that.


- Grazy


(graznibel <--toon)

Edited by Grazy

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Rain water rolls off my prostrate and barely concious body. Mud spatters, sticking to my face. Nose-blood forms a stream of its own and is carried away by the continuous down pour.


Heaving myself into a sitting position but still leaning on one arm, my eyes remain closed. I touch the tender swelling around my cheek, the bumps on the back of my head. Slowly opening my eyes. I squint, which also hurts but is all I can do in order to get some bearing.


I am sitting on a dirt track, I think. I can see what looks like street lamps to my right. Trees to my left loom large, imposing. Their leaves rustle loudly as the wind competes against the rain, for their attention.


A flash of something shiny or maybe luminous, catches my attention. Is that a bush? I need to move. The street light it is then.


Instinctively I fumble in the mud for my wooden staff. Found it. Using it for balance as I sand up, it occurs to me, whatever I was attacked by, their motive was not robbery; my staff, my cloak and even my money pouch, they are all still here.


Vials, I had vials. They could help with the pain at least. However that particular pouch is gone. I was attacked for my potions? I kick around in the mud for a few moments hoping to see a discarded pouch or spent vials but nothing.


Muttering to myself, “Move it.”




The rain has thinned a little over the past twenty minutes but not stopped completely. This building I stand before, the front door is open. A dim lamp light entices. To sit for a moment, out of the wind and rain. I can not resist.


I leave the front door open as I enter, in case I need a quick and easy escape.


Walls are tinted orange by the single lamp.


My shadow accompanies me to some chairs placed around a large wooden table. Instantly comfortable, finally able to hear myself think, I reluctantly consider getting up again, to shut the front door but as I contemplate standing, to the objections of my bruised limbs, I see that my attention is not required. The door is already shut.


A quarter to two. That is what the wall clock says. It is fifteen minutes to two in the morning. The round disc pendulum swinging, clunking methodically.


A plate on the table has an array of sliced up red-ish... Toadstools? Someone has been eating them? Oh my goodness, making potions perhaps.


What was that?


Sounds from upstairs, muffled, not words but movement. For a few seconds I decide to just sit and wait but a loud thud makes me jump. Someone has stumbled.


Feeling the urge to help, to see if whoever they are, needs assistance, I force myself out of the chair. Then I notice the foot prints, muddy, fresh and wet. They lead from the front door to the stairs.


Lamp in one hand, staff in the other I put a foot on the first step. It creaks and squeaks loudly. My presence must have been given away now so I call out, “Do you need assistance?”


No response.


Foot prints preceding me, I climb a few more steps and call out again, “The front door was open. I hope you don't mind, it's very wet and windy outside. I just wanted to rest for a few minutes.”




I make my way to the landing, holding the lamp high in order to show my face. Again I ask, “I heard someone fall over, do you need help?”


Two doors, both open.


I tap the first with my staff and take a single step inside the door way. The street lamp casts, what would otherwise be a pleasant mood into the room but rain and wind are running a muck, distorting the light through the window, casting animated shadows.


Lamp held high I can see an unmade bed, a jug of water and a bowl half filled with dark liquid. On bed sheets, dark red stains. I stand stiff suddenly, examining the bowl more carefully. That is blood and water in the bowl.


Backing up, I walk towards the second door and knock with the staff. It hardly moves. Another step forward. I can see a table, a closet and two chairs. On the table is a pouch which looks very familiar and now I can smell it, spent vials of healing potion. The table surface glistens, the syrup-like potion spilt across it.


Crystal vials, uncorked, lay-stuck to the table top by the viscous substance but there are others too, larger containers, small amounts of yellowish liquid still in them. True Sight!




I stumble in surprise at the clock chime. Waiting for another to signify the second hour, I wait and wait. No second chime.


I should leave.


Back down the stairs I hobble straight for the front door. Realizing I am still carrying the lamp I turn around and return it to the table. Glancing up at the clock, the reason why it only chimed once is clear; it now reads one o'clock.


Clunk... clunk... clunk...


With a crash and sudden howl of wind, the front door swings open, the lamp is instantly extinguished. Street light shadows, thrash like tentacles over walls and furniture.


A voice somewhere in the room spits, “Damn you witch!”


Frozen to the spot, I see no one but I hear heavy, exhausted breathing. Footsteps of someone wearing boots but where are they?


The front door slams shut leaving the room pitch black dark.


The rattle of the lamp's handle as it's picked up. The creak and squeak of the bottom stair case steps. Boots on the landing, They have entered the first room. A trickle of water pouring into the bowl.


A tiny orange light appears from up stairs, guiding my way. As I step onto the stairs, it squeaks.


“Who's there!” He shouts.


I see nothing but hear his footsteps. Then as he apparently stands at the top of the landing.


“Who's there!” He shouts slightly more nervously this time. A moment passes and mumbling, he enters the second room.


I now stand in the second doorway staring at a clean table with, as yet, unopened vials. As if time is fast forwarding, one by one the unused vials change. Corks are removed and their contents vanish. Potion's liquid materialize on the table top like sudden mould growth. Then the True Sight vial.


This armature has eaten red toadstools and is now paying the price. Not even having the most basic ability to make his own potions of healing, he stole mine but mine are weak, minor strength and can not help this fool.


He wants the ability to see that which should not be seen, well now he has his wish but these visions will be his last and he will take them to his grave.


With his final gasps, “I, I see you. Help me please! help me...”


As the True Sight takes control of his senses, he begins to see. “No! I killed you witch! I killed you!”

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