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-The Skazian Harbinger- Edition #7

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masmusk is not online. masmusk
Joined: 03 Oct 2009
Total Posts: 3753
07 Apr 2013 02:38 PM
◘▬ The Skazian Harbinger ▬◘

Special Edition!

#Edition 7

◘▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ THE HARBINGER ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◘


The Skazian Harbinger is the sovereign newspaper of the Kingdom of Thismonia. We are dedicated to bringing accurate, up-to-date news on Thismonia every week. In addition, we have literature written by our very own members, ranging from poems to long stories. Join the group to take part!

http://www.roblox.com/Groups/Group.aspx?gid=237417


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Previous Harbinger Editions:
1st Edition: http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=91188388
2nd Edition: http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=90757122
3rd Edition: http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=91336905
4th Edition: http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=91931491
5th Edition: http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=92593447
6th Edition: http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=93292105



◘▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ CONTENTS ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◘


LORE:
1. The Uleran Wiki!
2. Royal Joust
3. The Risen Dissections

LITERATURE:
◘▬Contest Results!▬◘
1. To Forgive, a tale of Nickawesome4444
2. Thismonian Tale-Fatique, Written by Jordan519.
3. Moonbeam Fate, the tale of a tale within a tale by Hugeboo322
4. Redemption through Chains and Fire, a tale by IPwnza
5. Walk of the Devil, by BrandonSW
6. Life of Rose, a story by QueenLisa101
7. Respect and The Mask, by Darrenboys1914
8. Monstrosity Discovered! By Nikolai2121
◘▬Disqualified List▬◘
1. To Slay a Lord, Volume I, by TheBlapshemous
2. Rise from Death, Rise to Aid, written by MrVincent
3. Seraph's Trials, an account of the journeys of Alpha8
4. Sylvan Savior, a short by Frokei
◘▬Other Literature▬◘
1. The Adventures of Constable James Hawtrey Book 1 Part 5 "Showdown"
2. A Strange Happening and Mythology of the Far Realms

RELEASES:
1. Thismonia: Up and Coming!
2. New Smithy, New Swords!

ADVERTISEMENTS:
1. Thismonia RPG!
2. Join the noble assassins!

NOTICES:
1. Squire tests
2. Royal Joust!


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◘▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ LORE ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◘
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Thik Wikia?

Ancient texts and recent accountings are being gathered up from all of the depths of Thismonia, the colonies and Martica. The arch mage Exo is massing a library to surpass that of the most learned holds and kingdoms. To further the cause of free knowledge circulating the kingdom, many copies of these texts shall be made and the copies freely circulated in the form of a "wiki". The scholars give rumour that the arch mage has been weakening throughout his search, and that he is in fact searching for a cure to some mystical ailment. It is a worrying speculation that not even the most famed mage and healer can cure him without such forbidden knowledge.


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• The Risen Dissections •

Following the successful capture of a viable Risen specimen, Consortium Sorcerer and Guide, 'Seraph,' has taken the subject towards an uncharted and desolate mountain range in northern Skazia, very well out of Thismonian rule.

The following presents the notes and facts written in Seraph's notebook, given to our King, Quilenoire the Third for further examination and for use as a factor of a possible cure.

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The day is the twenty-fourth day past the second full-moon.

Recently, I have sent out a team of 3 Warmages and an Augurer to take care of a Risen-swarmed Thismonian fortress in north-western Thismonia. Also, I have given them orders to subdue and bring back a Risen in suspended animation - which is why I sent the Augurer.

They have returned successfully with the Risen in tow, and I have arranged a small team to which, along with me, escort the Risen to a safer place. Currently, I rest in a hollowed cave in the northern uncharted mountain range, which is known by few and seen by fewer.

Currently, with me, I have two eager Tyros, three Warmages, and two Augurers. Sorcerers will not be needed, for lack of any risk of an extremely powerful energy.

The Risen itself has now been relinquished with suspended animation, but he is bound horizontally to the floor of the cave, thanks to the work of our Warmages who manipulated the stone into forming cuffs, confining the Risen towards the ground.

We will begin investigations tomorrow.

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Three days have passed since I have written, but I will begin with our breakthroughs.

We find that the Risen are half-dead. They are not dead, they are not alive. Simply half-dead, but they're dead if not for the subtle magic we found holding the Risen's body up.

The fact is, we have solidified a rumour by using it to investigate the cause of the Risen.

Some say the Risen were a curse of what was once an infamous and notorious necromancer - hailing from the Black Plains, a cursed region somewhere in south-eastern Skazia.

We allowed our Augurer to cast a spell to detect ether, and we found ether in the body of the Risen. It conducted what was left of the body's energy to the arms and legs; hence the loss of higher brain functions.

Regardless, it seems there will be much more research for us to do, now that we have discovered this.

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Day five. I think.

Sorcerer Thomas and Warmage Lance arrived today with two additional Risen, bound to the floor of a cart they got a donkey to wheel in.

We necessarily don't need the sorcerer for security reasons, it's just that he's too hands on to ever be called an Augurer. The Warmage probably just tagged along.

In breakthroughs, we found a way to effectively kill the Risen. Like I've said, the Risen operate on magic. By using a spell for dispelling ether, we instantly rendered one of the Risen into a ragdoll-esque corpse. Of course, we restored some magic into the bodies. We're not done yet.

In other news, we had a close infection today. A Tyro almost got hooked by the flailing arms of the Risen, but one of the Auguries overseeing the studies managed to start a small fire on the sleeve of the Tyro's robes, and the subject immediately peeled away from the fire. This stands to state they may not like the light.

We'll look into that tomorrow.

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Day seven, I believe.

Following the incident yesterday, I conducted a test. I let a Tyro cast Shimmer spark - a harmless thunder spell that causes a powerful but harmless explosion of bright light.

The subject's growls grew an octave and his doomed campaign to break the earthen clutches hastened.

So they hate the light.

We also made another discovery today, but with a sacrifice. A Warmage was reinforcing the restraints when the subject got a hold of the leg. I was there personally, but it was too late once I heard the mutated claws sink into his skin.

When he was getting overridden with the disease, something hit me. I always feel a surge of ether rushing through me whenever the Risen make an infection. I chose not the save the Warmage - it was too late from the second I realized it. Instead, I used a spell for detecting ether, and then I saw it. Virulent ether was rushing throughout the Warmage's body. I've never seen this before. Ether moves slow, and can only be rushed when there are masses of them.

That means they infect by passing on the virulent ether. The ether expands in size as it finds a new victim, eager to grow larger.

That's why. I conversed with the Augurers this evening. We have decided to call this new type of ether 'Anspark,' after the infamous brigand leader in Skazia known a few years ago for spreading out his army of mountain bandits to quickly route opponents.

After I killed the Warmage by running an ether-dispelling wave through him, we have decided we are done for today.

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The eighth day.

The Archmage warped in today to retrieve the Warmage's body after I expelled a magical replica of mine to speak to the Archmage.

With the Archmage here, we felt safe enough to let them free and study their movements. We created a jagged crater so they couldn't climb out, and threw the Risen in there by using four of us to levitate each Risen into the crater. Their first instinct was to stagger closer to each other. We couldn't explain why, so an Augurer wrote it down and left it for later.

Then, they turned to the Archmage and hungrily dragged themselves to him. Once I moved forward beside the Archmage, one of them limped off toward me. Then the Archmage had an idea. He issued an Augurer to fire a blast of pure ether from the other side of the crater.

Sure enough, they dashed to where the ether came. It dawns on all of us like a subtle sun - they like the ether. That's why they targeted the Archmage. He was bound to have more ether circulating around him.

Then the Sorcerer, Thomas, made another realization. They get close to each other naturally. Their ether's are like magnets, and it stands to reason the Risen can tell from Anspark to normal ether. With everyone, even commoners full of Spark and Ether, the Risen chase after them with zeal, eager to taste their ether. Then the Anspark infects the ether, therefore the cycle of the Risen.

The Archmage left with the Warmage’s body, now. It's getting dark, so we encase the Risen in stone and went to rest

▬▬▬▬▬▬

It's been two days since I wrote.

My field Augurer, Areus, came in today to help us devise a cure. We briefed him on our discoveries and we spent most of the day testing reactions to pure elements such as genuine fire and water, among other things.

The Risen seem exceptionally responsive to dark magic. Augurer Areus wrote the runic etymology for 'shadow' and as some dark ether poured out of the rune, the Risen seemed to have calmed down significantly.

So that's how the necromancer must've controlled them.

On the subject of the necromancer, I scoured a few books on dark magic I brought with me and none of them seem to mention a sorcerer who controlled the dead.

Then again, the Risen have been present on Skazia before even the foundation of Thismonia. It's very much possible the necromancer has faded, forgotten within the pages.
Also, we performed another experiment with Anspark, today. We dispelled the Anspark and resurrected the Risen in normal ether.

The Risen we've replace the Anspark with has lost its aggression. Also, the other Risen have begun to target the one we've replaced the Anspark with. This confirms they use Anspark to congregate and ether as their eyes and ears.

Augurer Areus has elected to stay with us, so we cleared out some space for him.

I'm not sure what the Risen situation is in Thismonia as of now, but I'm sure my vigilant Warmages will see to the King's safety.

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Fifteenth Day

We spent the last few days trying to understand their mental structure. At best, they have a slight sense of preservation, but their priorities, it seems, is to feast on the ether inside our bodies and to gather up as much Anspark they could in their proximity - hence, hordes.

They're usually willing to sacrifice themselves for ether. I freed one in a narrow artificial corridor made of manipulated stones and I cast a non-virulent firestorm between the Risen and me. I dispelled a few ether blasts and the Risen simply limped through the fire to get to me. Of course, I had to kill the Risen once it dragged itself through the fire. Fire can maim the body, but it does not maim ether. That is why many keep walking, even after they have lost their head. The conduit for ether is their torso, therefore to kill a Risen, you must damage the torso beyond the power of a curate's staves, do not get the head.

We also uncovered that they have a primitive sort of language naturally inherited once infected. To them, they understand each other like we do. To us, we hear nothing but garbles. It's near impossible to understand their language, so we have no obligation to learn a new language. Tomorrow, we plan to test their resistances against everything we can use.

Hopefully we'll be able to find a cure.

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Day number sixteen.

I plan to concoct a cure through the Risen's weakness and our own ways of reversing the effects. We tested their resistances; allow me to sort these into groups. Blunt objects, including earth magic, do little to no damage unless it physically changes the Risen by force, as they are oblivious to pain.

Sharp objections and certain wind magic do the most consistent damage. Loss of blood still affects the Risen, and mass haemorrhage makes the Risen stop walking. The only problem is the most effective sharp weaponry requires close range, and arrows do not possess the calibre of a war axe.

Ethereal magic, meaning non-solid magic, varies. Ethereal magic for pain does nothing, but ether dispelling effects are the most effective way, provided all of the Anspark is wiped out in one spell. Dark magic calms them down, but this is only useful for academically fuelled reasons.

I'm hoping to procure a mind-numbing plant known as the Mindsbane, as it prevents the natural production of ether and spark from one's body. By converting it into an applicable liquid, it will make an excellent repellent. The only problem at hand is the Mindsbane is very rare now. It was mass harvested in the old times when witch hunts were common for commoners and villagers to capture us Mages, and so this is a very limited option.

I'm going to work on the recipe for the Mindsbane Repellent tomorrow.

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Day seventeen.

Multiple discoveries today.

Let me start with the Mindsbane concoction. The only problem is the low supply of Mindsbane, the most vital ingredient, but I believe I have enough for the King, Lord Evelyn, and our Archmage. It works perfectly, making you invisible to Risen, as they can't sense you.

I made another discovery today. With the help of a few Warmages that aren't occupied, I have taken some books relevant to the Risen from the Palace's Library by getting them warped to here by us. Luckily, we didn't warp anything else in.

We found who the pioneer of all this death is. Let me copy down an extract.

"Golimar Yifer, long ancestor to the Consortium's first Archmage, Averacio Yifer, is the known progenitor of resurrection and controlling the dead by magic. Exiled long since from his primitive village deep within the Solplains, he was forced out of the village when he dared introduce dark magic to the villager's Eldersage. Losing everything, he crafted the dead remains of people to accompany and satisfy his twisted take on 'companionship.'

His heart withered more and eventually his descent to madness has reached its peak. Creating an infectious new type of ether, he allowed his dead companions to run amok, sewing chaos, which Golimar justified as 'making friends.'

In the end, Golimar succumbed to the curse he made himself, and to this day, his creations run freely."

The book is extremely old, but if we read this first, it would've saved us a lot of research. I don't think there is much more to Golimar Yifer, so I'm going to focus on a viable cure.

▬▬▬▬▬▬

Excellent news, EXTREMELY URGENT.

THIS PAGE IS TO SURVIVE AT ALL COSTS. WE HAVE DISCOVERED A CURE.

An Augurer found out how the Anspark was produced and replicated. In theory, we can use this knowledge to reverse the effects of the Risen, provided the curse has not desecrated their body beyond repair.

It's too late to consult with him, now. He had only discovered this and we've spent all day outside and inside, doing a variety of things such as finding a more common alternative to Mindsbane and tormenting the Risen with a few more experiments.

I suppose this can wait for the morning, we're all tired. I hope everything is well in Thismonia.

▬▬▬▬▬▬

I don't know why we bothered to do this.

It's all over. Yesterday...

A band of brigands caught wind of our hideout. They trekked through the jagged plains and mountains surrounding Mars Hollow, and they attacked us. I was not there to witness it. I was busy in a distant location, overseeing a few more experiments relevant to the terrain and climate for the Risen.

They attacked Mars Hollow.

The Augurer that knew the secrets is dead. They released the Risen, being themselves greedy for a weapon, and they were taken by the Anspark themselves. They're all free, now. They would have been far gone by the time we got back.

I hang my head in shame, I must return to Thismonia to relay our tragedy and all our information.


-Alpha8


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◘▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ LITERATURE ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◘
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Contest Results!

The contest is over, and we have a winner! Congratulations to NickAwesome4444 to winning the Grand Prize! Nick is promoted to Savant permanently, and will be in the House Conclave rank for a day, once he logs on! We will have another contest sometime soon, in the mean time, keep writing!


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To Forgive, a tale of Nickawesome4444

Nicholas lashed out like an irate bull, hardwood baton in his hand battering against the bruised shield, forcing its wielder back. He swung again, grunting as his weapon collided with his friend's staunch defence. Again, Nicholas attacked, his weapon scoring a dent in the shield. Harold had covered himself well, but had only ever attacked Nicholas when there was no possible way to fail to hit. However, Harold's defence seemed to wane, and Nicholas abandoned his own small shield in favour of his baton, bringing crushing blows upon Harold's quivering defences.
Harold grunted as each blow struck, until Nicholas launched a vicious sideswipe, sending the battered wooden defences flying away across the dirt-covered training arena. Standing triumphantly over Harold, ready to strike one final time with his hard baton, Nicholas was surprised to see Harold jabbing him in the ribs. Of course, Nicholas thought, he could have predicted this, but Harold had fooled him. Being the last two competitors standing, Harold was declared the victor. The training was over.
Over the course of the past year, Nicholas had been training to become a Thismonian sergeant, brashly advertising his merit and going out of his path to help villagers and senior officers, and taking many little steps to discourage other sergeants-in-training. Barry, the favourite among the strategy officers, had declined being put into the promotion pool, for "personal reasons". The axeweilding ace, Paul, had developed a sudden bout of insecurity in his own skills, after Nicholas upstaged his show to the senior officers with an extravagant swordsmanship display. Only three other leading candidates had remained unfazed or intact enough to continue, including his friend. And now, all the hard work had gone down the drainpipe. Nicholas would have to earn it all again.
Harold offered his hand in a reconciliatory gesture as Nicholas sulked, but he was sourly batted away, as Nicholas stormed off the field. "Shouldn't Harold have given his place up for his friend? Isn't that what friendship was for?" Nicholas thought.
"Sergeant Nicholas Perrison!" The captain called out. "You have been called to the martial court for assaulting a senior officer. In light of your stellar record over the past five years, we have decided to allow you a chance to defend yourself. Do you have anything to say, Sergeant?"
"No, sir. I acted unjustly." Nicholas replied. His hand still stung from where he had smacked Barry, who had advanced to become a Captain himself in the years after their first sergeant trial. Nicholas felt the shame being imparted upon him, but more so, he felt the satisfaction of, at least in one way, feeling more powerful than Barry. They had all passed him up, first Harold, then Paul, then Barry, then all the rest. He had waited seven long years before advancement... And when he saw the man who had taken his chance at redemption, the man who had bruised and battered him on the training grounds, and the man who had risen and taken his rightful place as sergeant... Nicholas could not resist.
"The defendant has nothing to say for himself. The original sentence of three months in Coltsburrow prison will not be commuted. This court is closed." The captain's words rang out in the courtyard of the small fort. "Soldiers, dismissed. Perrison, come with me." The captain led Nicholas into the detention area, uncuffed and unbound. After all, Nicholas had quite an impressive reputation, and the captain had few doubts about Nicholas being safe.
Nicholas simmered. After this incident, his career as a Thismonian soldier would be ruined- striking a superior officer, especially in the sensitive area between the legs, was expressly forbidden. His vengeance and his loyalties were split like a wishbone- both sides clearly wanting to be separate, but only one that could profit from it. Nicholas could not be a loyal Thismonian soldier and appease his ego simultaneously. In that moment when he was being led to a grimy cell, he came to a conclusion.
The officer didn't know what struck him, for he blacked out immediately. Nicholas dropped the heavy wooden torch, and then seized the keys from the captain's belt. Criminal scum, petty thieves and murderers cried out from behind the cell doors. "Ah, a distraction." He thought. Nicholas strode to the cell doors, and began to unlock them, setting each man free to run.
The Skazian Harbinger, published the following day, had reported a massive prison riot and the death of two Thismonian soldiers, the Warden-Captain Robert Clems and Sergeant Nicholas Perrison, as well as injuries to defenders outside. The Harbinger edition of a week later reported a massive spike in criminal activity, no surprise. The second week after the breakout, several organizations had formed, the foremost among them known only as "Revenge", a militaristic bounty-hunting band. In the following weeks, the Harbinger reflected the terror spread in the Coltsburrow countryside.
"'Ey, sarge!" One of the bandit scouts called out. "We've got ourselves some bluecloaks due east! Should we kill 'em?"
"No, Karl. We capture them, and then find out who they are, and what they want. Then we kill them." The leader replied. "We need to find who they report to, because we might have a lead this time. Ready the men." They were his men, and his accomplishment, He had spent the last seven years forcing them to cast off their undisciplined, rough behaviour, and moulding them into an efficient fighting force. He was their captain, and they were loyal to him and only him.
"Yeah, yeah, sarge." Karl cantered off, his voice ringing as he roused the camp. "Rise and shine, we've got some bluecloaks and traps to set, east of here." Karl's calls stirred up cussing in the camp, irate groaning, and calls of, "It isn't even sunrise! Those Thik dogs!" Karl had seen the fighters, and at the speed they had been moving, it would have been at least a quarter of an hour before their arrival.
Nicholas pondered. He had become a criminal, a man nobody could trust besides the men he had trained. He had come down the crooked path to vengeance, not the hard path following loyalty. Nicholas could still feel wrath in his veins, he still was driven. He had come to his conclusion a long time ago: Serve yourself before others. Aid that does not aid you back is wasted.
The bandit camp was suddenly assaulted by Thismonian soldiers, those who had run ahead of the main force. Three men fell from the first assault, struck down by spears. An archer wounded a pair of bandits, and several swordsmen who dashed in managed to hold back the bandits for some time. Nicholas' forces managed to group together managing to hold off, even push back the predawn assault, until the Thismonian Captain charged into the clearing.
The Captain of the assault force whirled his two-handed broadsword through the necks of marauders, hewing them where they stood. His armour glinted in the falling moonlight, his helmet reflecting the faces of his enemies. Nicholas was in awe of the man's skills for a moment, but forced himself to stand up and protect his men. The broadsword battered against Nicholas' metal kite shield, forcing Nicholas back. Again the Captain attacked, nearly rending Nicholas' shield in two. Nicholas held onto his mangled shield and short sword, for they were his only fighting chance. However, Nicholas' defence was quickly waning, and another few decisive blows cut the shield in half.
Standing haughtily over his defeated foe, the Captain lifted up his broadsword. Before the captain could bring his weapon crashing down, Nicholas asked, "Can I know your name before I die?"
"I am Harold Farstrom, marauder. Die knowing that you've been killed by one of the most competent captains in the Kingdom."
Nicholas gasped for a moment, and then thrust his sword upwards, to pierce Harold's gut. However, Harold's cuirass resisted the attack, though he was caught off-guard. Nicholas seized a stray arrow, and plunged it into Harold's knee, causing the captain to yelp and fall to the ground. However, the bandits were being rounded up and killed or captured. The battle was over.
"Harold." Nicholas spoke from his cell. "You know, I've always wanted to be even." The guard outside his cell scowled. Harold had been involved in a loyalty scandal, and everybody involved had been demoted, Harold included. Harold turned to Nicholas. "You've got some gut, to be talking to be about that. But even after that, I forgive you." Harold extended his hand, offering up friendship that was shattered long ago. Nicholas replied with a wad of spittle to the guard with the arrow in his knee.


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Thismonian Tale-Fatique, Written by Ryssio Bennis.

He has wandered into the mist of the land, crawling under the dark moon, hoping for freedom. The Thismonians were cruel, that’s what he thought. Leaving his family with no money, food, or water, the man became went off with no regrets.

But leaving wasn't the beginning. The beasts of the wild tried their best to speak to him and make him go back to the lands of the kingdom. He refused, and just whacked them, breaking their skull. No mark was given on the mans hand, but a mark on the animals would last forever, giving them damage in the brain.

Animals weren't the only problem. Trees fell down easily without any disruption. It was almost like it was also a sign- a sign to return home. One time, a tree fell down on him. The man spit on the ground, and crawled out. On the floor, without a breath, saw the day collapse, and the night arrive. Did he have any regrets? Of course not. He then, with no legs to walk, wandered into the dark mist, hoping for a river.

By sunrise, a river was in sight. The sun grazed it, making the temperature perfect. The fish fresh, he could use them. He then killed the fish and used the bones. With a lot of crafting, he was able to build a cast that would protect his broken leg. With a cane made of wooden trees, he could walk again, yet slowly. Unable to swim in his state of health, he followed it.

Yet, he went the wrong way. An enormous waterfall crashed down thousands of feet, and he was staring at it in rage, shock, and disbelief. He couldn't stand it. Finally, one last animal approached him. He stared at it, about to smack the beast with his great fist, but he looked again. The animal stared back with eyes as humble as a newborn. The man remembered his son's expression of sorrow. It was easily compared to the beasts' face. Eventually, he picked up the animal, and slowly walked back, with regrets of leaving his family at all.

As he returned a shout of joy, greatness, and disbelief was introduced. His family hugged him tight, hoping to never let him go again. He saw his child, with the opposite of sorrow- joy. A feast was held celebrating the return of the man, who learned a lesson about abandoning.


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Moonbeam Fate, the tale of a tale within a tale by Hugeboo322

“Sir, I am tired...may we camp here for the night.” The 26-year-old squire asked, panting.
“Very well, but you do not earn rightful knighthood by sleeping.” His master, a very old and wise knight, responded.
So they made camp, once the fire got started and the two huddled around it, the squire requested a tale from his master, he enjoyed a good laugh.
“Boy, you ask for one every night, now...'tis my turn to choose it.”
And so, the knight began.

“GET OUT YOU FILTHY MUTT!” Yelled the furious archery storeowner, firing a bolt into the wolf's hamstring.
The wolf smashed into a pot and out a window, to his den. He greeted his starving mate with a growl, and went to nuzzle his pups. Counting four, the young wolf looked to the skies, full moon. Proceeding to lick the wounds he suffered, he looked to the moon again and let out a long eerie howl, joined by his mate and the yipping of his pups.
Then all went black,
Groggily, the wolf woke, with crimson red teeth. His mate was growling the sun was peeking over the horizon; he must get home before it comes full...or he shall turn back into a boy of eleven. Quick as a lightning bolt, the she wolf pounced on him and tried ripping his neck out in a fury of bites, only then did he remember...he ate his pups. The pupless father bit into his mate's neck and ripped the flesh clean out. Yowling, the she wolf backed off.
Rushed, the wolf ran to the archery shop, upstairs, and into the apprentice's bed. Just then, he turned into his normal skin...the eleven year old.
Rushing downstairs, the warg boy saw the destruction and acted surprised.
“Wolf was in your room.... where were you?” His master asked.
“Umm...bathroom...” He could not hide the crossbow tip in his leg.
“WAIT! YOU! YOU ARE THE WOLF THAT IS TERRORIZING MY HOME!”
Leaping upon him, the master drew a blade. Luckily, the ex-apprentice warg ran out only with a cut on his back.
No one ever saw him again.... some say he still wanders the towns in search of meals at night.

The End.

The squire looked terrified, and the master chuckled. “Some say he wanders these hills.” And went to his tent. “GET FIRST GUARD 'YA WHIPPASNAPPA!” He yelled and slept.
Poking the fire with a stick, the squire heard bushes rustle...he drew his blade, reflecting the red light of the fire, and a large, cut up wolf leaped at him, missing thanks to a sidestep. “Not the wolf...just a normal wolf” The giant wolf pounced on the terrified squire, and shoved him into the fire, smothering the fire. Darkness came. He slew the wolf. Happily and tired, the squire looked up. It was full moon. “N-no!” The squire felt his bones change, fur appear on his skin. He felt smaller.... and let out a howl.
Jumping into the tent of his master, the warg squire killed his master and feasted on him. The next day, a young knight, Pellanor Maeros, found the bodies in a search for the missing knight, two wolves and man.

The End.


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Redemption through Chains and Fire, a tale by IPwnza

I awoke from my bed to the sound of a large boom. It was midnight, so I crept out of the cabin as quietly as possible to ensure I did not wake my parents. It was a dark night, one night before all of Skazia would celebrate our king's 10th year with the crown. Looking around, I noticed the dim light of a torch over the mountainside, and heard the far-off noises of horses. Assuming that the figures I had spotted were simply guards patrolling the countryside, I quietly crept back into my bed.

Morning came early, and I was very under-slept from the midnight adventure. My parents prepared breakfast, and then went out to work the farm. Around noon that day, I walked into the house to get some water, after working the farm for the entire morning. As I was about to go back outside, I heard a loud banging on the door. I heard a man outside screaming, "Open the door, provincial patrol." I decided not to cause trouble and opened the door, and the guards grabbed me the instant the door opened. They screamed, "Where are your parents?" and I replied "Out on the farm." They told the other guards to tie me up, and the guard grabbed me by the hand and placed a noose around my neck, tied the noose to the horse. The group of guards sent to retrieve my parents soon came back, with my parents as prisoners. They put nooses around their necks and tied them to the horses also. The lead guard said "Prisoners! Keep up with the horses, or the noose around your necks will strangle you to death." After a long hike, and a lot of thinking about why I was being captured, we arrived at the castle. They opened the dungeon door and threw us inside.
The days inside the dungeon were torture. The dead rats that the guards threw in for meals were disgusting. The dirt floor was damp, making it hard to even sit. The air was bitter cold, suggesting we were probably deep underground. One day, the guards came and took us inside the castle. He placed us before the king for our trial. The king got off his chair, cleared his throat, and said "The dirty peasant on the left here, as he looked at me, was spotted late after curfew last night wondering the streets. During this time, a large stash of blasting fire was detonated, destroying the home of the King's steward. It's only logical that he committed the crime, correct? And as our penal code states, the parents of the accused are also guilty." Now, we will allow the accused to speak in defence.
I said "Sir, I was simply looking outside when I heard this explosion. I was simply being curious about why there would be an explosion at midnight". The king spoke "That is a sensible excuse. Do you have any evidence?" Sadly, I did not and said "No, Sir". He picked up another paper and read it aloud, "The accused has pleaded innocent, but is guilty due to the lack of evidence that he did not commit the crime. Now, for the sentencing. For crimes of trespassing past curfew, detonating an explosive without permission, and destruction of property, you and your parents will be spending their life as a slave - in bondage to pay back their debts to the kingdom." The guards grabbed us and walked us to the town square.
The town square had a slave market in the centre. They tied us up on poles, placed our prices below our feet, and walked off. After about an hour on the poles, a man walked up - dressed in fine clothes. He looked at our prices, interested. He walked up to the guard, and handed him a coin purse. The guard walked up to us, untied us, and walked us off to the slave owner's horse and carriage. Our new owner took us on what seemed to be an extremely short ride to a camp below a frozen mountain. He handed us a torn, ragged tunic and showed us our tents. He screamed "Work starts tomorrow at 5 - be up and ready!" The entire night, I thought about how I could convince anyone that I was actually innocently being curious. I thought about any evidence I had, but could think of none. I even thought about escaping, but decided not to - there were guards stationed at every corner of the camp.
The next morning, the slaver screamed, "IT'S MORNING! GET TO WORK! THE NEW SLAVES ARE TO SEE ME!" We walked up to the slaver, and he seemed surprisingly calm. Instead of screaming at us to get to work at the mines, he told us how he lived next door to the destroyed steward's home. He told us how he saw the man that had committed the crime, and that it was not us. He continued to explain that he had bought us to return us to freedom, as he knew we were actually innocent. He gave us a pouch with 10 gold coins in it and a horse - enough to buy some food and get out of the province. Thanking the man, we got on our horses and rode over the border to a new land.


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(Continued in next post)
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masmusk is not online. masmusk
Joined: 03 Oct 2009
Total Posts: 3753
07 Apr 2013 02:39 PM
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Walk of the Devil, by BrandonSW

A young woman was going through The Devil's Forest (named for the fact the Devil haunts it) at the edge of Skazia. The one rule: stay on the path and no harm will come to you. The young lady broke that rule.

She decided, "Those are some pretty flowers, I'll pick them and run back to the path!" She went and collected the flowers, upon seeing more, she collected them, heading deeper and deeper into the forest.

Soon she heard a baby crying and said, "Oh, who would leave a baby in these woods!?" She looked around, and soon saw the baby in a clump of roots at the base of a tree. She picked it up, cloth and all, wrapped the baby, and began heading back to where she thought was the path.

Suddenly, the blanket began to get warm, and she looked to see why. She was met by a nasty surprise. In the blanket, there was a rock in the shape of a baby, with fire coming from where the mouth should be. The blanket caught fire and the young lady dropped it to the ground and screamed.

She turned around and there was a man in a black hat standing there, looking evilly at her. He pulled a sword from its sheath and began to chase her through the forest.

After awhile, she didn't hear him anymore. She did hear a carriage coming though, and decided it best to go in the direction of the sound. She had nearly reached the path when she tripped over a root into the road.

The carriage ran over her, with a sickening crack of bone, blood going on the wheels, the path, and the grass nearby. The carriage owner jumped down and walked in front of her.

Then, he turned into the man with the black hat.


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Life of Rose, a story by QueenLisa101

On the quiet countryside, there was a fair maiden with curly red hair, ruby red lips, and fair skin. Her name was Rose Allen, and she had an admirer. His name was Gaston Goyle. Rose did not care much for Gaston, he had an attitude like no other man, and he was also rich. Rose's dream was to marry a hardworking man, not someone like Gaston. Whenever Gaston was around, it meant trouble. Until one day, when Rose walked into the middle of the Village. “So, Rose..." Said Gaston, smoothing his hair. "How are you?” "Hphm! I'm just fine Gaston, not that it matters to you!” Gaston gave Rose a nasty look. “I won't be sassed by you Rose!" Said Gaston. Those words hung in the air until a shopkeeper nearby yelled out “LEAVE HER ALONE!". Gaston's face turned in that direction " What did you say?!” "You heard me, LEAVE. HER. ALONE."
In a flash in turned into a brawl, the shopkeeper held up a bottle and smashed in over Gaston's head, in return Gaston swung his fists wildly at the shopkeeper. Just when it seemed the shopkeeper was about to lose, he swung his legs and tripped Gaston, knocking him out! While bystanders dragged Gaston away, the shopkeeper came up to Rose. “Are you alright madam?" He asked. "Yes, but how about you? You were the one fighting." She replied. “May I ask for your name?" The shopkeeper said. “Why, of course. My name is Rose, Rose Allen.” With that their future was in place.


EPILOUGUE


The shopkeeper's name turned out to be John Halburd, an honest, hardworking man. Him and Rose got married and lived a very happy life together; they had six children, five of them survived.
The children's names were Johnny, Peter, Ian, Anne, Bethany, and Helga. Helga died because she was born with a rare sickness that was later called "cancer".


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Respect and The Mask, by Darrenboys1914

A long time ago, there was a man...let's just call this man, "Charles", he was a mean and dirty man, but was always treated like trash. Why, do you ask? Well, he was always treated meanly by the villagers. He then said on one peculiar day in rage, "Why ye' do this to me? I have never done anything dirty to ye'!" and ran off in anger. Charles was now in a forest, with nothing to eat, and was disappointed. He had only wished that he were able to find a way to get respect. He then, went on a journey to the Province of Yallia, which was indeed, far from where he was. He took only 1 friend with him, a man named "Selveyn", he only one true friend. On his journey, he knew that the King wouldn't just give him any respect, if Charles wanted respect; he knew what he had to do. He went to the largest mountain in Thismonia, onto where he will find, an object, unlike any other, the Xelgax Mask, a beast of to which was defeated long ago, and its head, carved into a powerful mask. He went there for 2 years, and finally made it to the top of the mountain, onto where he saw the whole region of Skazia, and was amazed by it. He went into a dark cave where he found the Mask, but in front of it was a tall man...who seems to have pale skin, a rusty armour, with a broken sword...he said, "Who are ye' and why do you come?" Charles replied, "I come for the respect of people in Skazia!" The man replied sadly, "Is respecting what you really need?" And he thought..."Yes, yes I do!” and pushed the old man aside, and grabbed the mask, and put it on, and then everything went black. He was then in the dungeon of the Province of Yallia, sentenced to death. He then said, "Why am I in this rusty old dungeon?” he was then replied, from a man who looked like he was from the cave, "You are in here because you have been rude and selfish..." Charles was then realizing what he had done, and was then hanged on that spiteful day...


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Monstrosity Discovered! By Nikolai2121

Reports around the farmlands near the Northern Mountains talk about a demon/monster sounds coming from one of the caves early in the night one of the farmers heard a strange snarling sound outside his house The snarl turned straight into a cry of the farmers livestock as he rushed outside he saw nothing but blood and remains of the Live stock the farmer however found a foot print the size of a full born Dragon. Investigators are now searching all around Skazia for any sign of the monster, if you see the Monster Please do not interfere with it for it can and it will kill you!


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Disqualified Entries

Some entries were disqualified in accordance to various rules. None were disqualified because of quality issues- IE, they were all good articles. Two were disqualified because of the HR writing rule, and two were because of the Skill Imbalance rule. Don't be discouraged, keep writing.


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To Slay a Lord

Volume I, Days 1-4


For a moment, I hear the screams. I sit now upon the grimy stone, reflecting upon what has brought me to these dungeons where I reside.
The week had begun with the messenger and the note, which dictated I meet behind the east village tavern at dusk. I was cloaked as I joined the throng of the hungry, the drinkers, and the rogues towards the lesser of the two inns within the town. I bypassed the marketplace whence the dragon-fraud had peddled his goods and the alleyway where I had almost been arrested for assault. I felt a small thrill traverse my spine, the thrill to return the hunt.
I cautiously stepped into the small, frigid alleyway where an elderly man lay, unconscious. However, my senses did not prevent me from gasping in the shock of mild surprise as a dagger was slid nearly against my throat.

"Pay more attention, freelancer." A whispery voice rasped from behind my slightly pointed left ear. The chill of the steel on my soft neck kept my every sense tuned in upon the new arrival, my heartbeat elevated, and my hands ready to seize a weapon and attack, had this not been the Guildmaster. The old man snorted in his sleep, oblivious to me and the other Assassin.
"Listen, girl. The Count Evelyn is to stay in this town on the fourth day after today, and no man knows this but the Count, his entourage, and us two. The Orc Delwic hath informed me that there be a rumour adrift that the Lord is to be assassinated. Discover if 'tis a fact, and if it be fact, report who the perpetrators are. Take no action until thou art instructed to."
"Aye, sir." I replied. "May I ask, why myself?"
"A stranger that asks too many questions is apt to find too few answers. And unwelcome ears will hear."
"Ah, may I ask..." For a moment, I was surprised to feel the dagger off my throat, and thought that perhaps the Guildmaster Agarron had released me for easier conversation. Alas, 'twas not the case. The alley was once again cold and empty, and the Guildmaster had vanished like smoke in a strong breeze.

'Twas the second day before I began to inquire of the nature of the scheme. Ah, I fear I accomplished nothing but spreading rumours, for I discovered little, but alarmed many. The cheerful, joyous, yet moderate weather seemed to be mocking my quest, and I conversed and spent what coin I had in a vain attempt to find the spring from whence the rumours originally sprang.
"Home so early?" Yiannia inquired as I returned to the house. The elf had let me stay within her house for several days, and she went out of her way to do me good; she cooked a fine lamb stew and fresh, elven bread on that night. Ah, disappointed as I was, I could do little to not enjoy such a fine meal.
"So Athellia, I have heard tell of the Count Evelyn traveling to our town the day after the morrow. Have thee any formal clothes for his advent?"
"No, mistress, I do not." I replied, awkwardly. On the thin budget of a travelling assassin, what could I afford to buy but scraps of food?
"I shall help thee select one, for I have several. Meet me in thy room after supper." Yiannia drifted away like a glittering dream, and I consumed my meal in silence.
Once I had finished the hearty stew, I ascended the stairway to my personal portion of the house. The clean, polished timbers glistened as I passed by, striding into my room. Within the room, Yiannia sat upon the bed, smoothing the wrinkles from what, on first glance, appeared to be a gown of stars. 'Twas a glimmering, silken dress of elvish make, with pine needle-green hems that served to amplify the glittering white cloth and emerald coloured highlights. I could only gasp in wonder. 'Twas a gift fit for a princess! I could little believe my eyes, as Yiannia handed me this.
"Well?" She inquired. "Doest thee enjoy it?"
My breath snagged in my throat for a moment. "'Tis marvellous..." I could not help but to imagine myself wearing the dress, glittering like a jade.
"Thou may wear it for the parade, when the Count Evelyn passes down the Olde Town Lane."
I marvelled in the handiwork, and thanked her for her hospitality and generosity.

As night fell and the silent silver sliver of the waxing moon rose, I pondered over the events of the last day, and set my sleepless mind on plans for the morrow. I had nothing to tell the Guildmaster, not yet. I had heard nothing from gossipers within the tumultuous marketplace, nothing from the dragon-scammer, ah, nothing at all from outside the house. I wriggled slightly in the comforting woollen blanket, and then redirected my thoughts. So what was I to do on the morrow? I still needed to discover if there even was to be an assassination. I had but this one day... I rolled onto my side, plotting, and lo, an idea struck me like a lightning-bolt. I could lure the enemy assassin out with offers to aid them, and then backstab the traitor to the crown, could I not? I would merely need a disguise...

In the wee hours of the morning, I sat by the mirror, gazing out the window into the misty haze washing over the town, then I continued applying the face-paint by the filtered sunlight. I used an orcish skin tint, to not just appear as a half-Orc, but a pureblood. I stared at the mirror, meticulously obscuring my natural, slightly thin, human features, with stronger highlights to enhance my jaw and nose slightly. After a couple more dabs of paint, I viewed myself again. My reflection looked nothing like me, or at least the me I was used to. My face was a bolder, greener version of myself, and though there might be some resemblance to my actual self, 'twas enough to pass myself off as unrelated.

Before Yiannia could arise, I had crept outside the house, intent on staying out of sight. The leathery dress I had bought scuffed my legs, making me acutely aware of the deception. Moreover, it reminded me of the elven dress in Yiannia's house, but I would not dare wear that while undercover. I wandered the misty alleyways until arriving before the fog-shrouded marketplace, which was not yet open. I saw nobody awake, save a lone man clutching a soft iron dagger.

"Greenskin!" He hissed. "Filthy bootlicker, give me yer coin purse, or I shall stab ye."
"Me?" I grunted, imitating the lower vocal tones of a pureblood Orc. "Ye go die in a mine. My purse is my own."
"Get down, dog. Ye hath made a grave mistake..." the thief advanced like a three-legged cat, acting as if he were sure of himself, but constantly stumbling. As he came closer, I could recall his face- 'Twas the pickpocket who had tried to rob me here before! Alas, my confrontation with him would not be quite so beneficial to me.

The criminal charged at me, dagger blade held out to impale my torso. 'Twas a clumsy attempt and I snatched up his wrist and seized the dagger, plunging it into the pickpocket's thieving hand. In that moment, he screamed and called out for mercy. No sooner did the criminal scream, a trio of guards dashed from their somnolent watchfulness into hasty action. No sooner did I end this one trouble then did I hear the click of watchman boots crunch in the roadside gravel.

Alas, that moment there spelled the beginning of the unravelling of my lies and disguise to everybody.


-Athellia Bantzmane


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Rise from Death, Rise to Aid, written by MrVincent

“Damn it Jack!” Edward exclaims. “Get outta there!” “I can’t, mate!” Jack then exclaims. “There’s no time to lose, Edward!” a medic says, constantly trying to pull Edward to the wagon. “No! I am not going without Jack! “Edward shouts, charging into the crowd of the risen, slowly fending the hordes off Jack.

It was a cloudy day. The Shogun Clan was raiding the Thunder Clan, hoping to seek vengeance as their assassin had recently murdered their steward, but had failed to assassinate the actual king, therefore being hanged on the spot. Lieutenant Jack, the leader and friend of the steward... “Charge my minions. Charge! “He says, as bundling groups of army men charge into the gates of Thunder Castle. Captain Moe, leader of Thunder Clan, then shouts, “Close the gates! Fend off the Shogun! Get the archers ready, bows have been set! “He then mutters under his breath, “I knew this day would come... “A soldier of the Thunder Clan suddenly rushes up to the captain, then shouting, “They’ve got bombs, sir, " he says.” What do we do? ““We fight back, were not cowards, Edward.” Moe then slowly takes out his sword, and walks out of the gate, calmly.

“Ah, I see... It's captain Moe. “Lieutenant Jack says.” You failed... So now, we clash. "
“Alright, my brother. Let’s finish it. “Moe then exclaims. From out of nowhere, a crowd of risen dead, seemingly over a hundred, surrounds all soldiers. “Jack... Let's see how truly strong we are. “Moe then exclaims, shouting out more words,
“Men. Do not fight any more, fight off these hideous RISEN! “The two armies then fend off all of the zombies, except most of the zombies round up on captain Moe.
" Go away! Hideous! " He says, for that is his last word, as the risen slowly decapitate his body. Edward then sees Jack, then being surrounded by zombies. “Damn it Jack!” Edward exclaims. “Get outta there!” “I can’t, mate!” Jack then exclaims. “There’s no time to lose, Edward!” a medic says, constantly trying to pull Edward to the wagon. “No! I am not going without Jack! “Edward shouts, charging into the crowd of the risen, slowly fending the hordes off Jack.

THE END...?
From your regular nobleman,
MrVincent


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Seraph's Trials, an account of the journeys of Alpha8

The day blazed hot as the fire Mage stumbled blindly across the plains of an unknown land, his nomadic robes were singed badly and his right arm possessed the severe burn of a thousand suns. He limped, dragged, and mustered all his strength, to find the closest civilization, after his nomadic peers have exiled him from their ranks, seeing Seraph too weak to be fit as an axe-bearing barbarian.

That is when he found Thismonia.

He eventually came to the outskirts of a foreign stronghold. Unknown to him, this would be his salvation. Seraph was formidable. Coursing through him was the strength of a full-fledged fire Mage, and so he made short work of the sentries, before they could even begin their defence.

Seraph, at this time, was not yet as stoic as you see today. His depression from exile, his burden with power, all were factors in his sadness. He set fire to the gates, before incinerating it to splinters, spluttering in pain and begging for help from the soldiers.

Surprisingly, they obliged.

They fed and watered Seraph, although it was not in the best conditions. His powers, as a Mage, were not unheard of, but it was peculiar all the same. They listened to his tale, and shared his sorrow.

In the end, they pointed him towards the Consortium.

There, he was a mere acolyte, for many months to come. Over time, death and power has humbled the Mage into the stoic, but careful Mage you see today, harbouring sadness and care he prefers not to show to anyone.

In the end, he was pronounced the Guide of the Consortium. A teacher and a devastating warmage.

Soon, he would orchestrate the prosperity of the Mages.


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Sylvan Savior, a short by Frokei

It all started when a rather large bandit saw his father’s gold necklace on my neck. The minute he saw it he attacked, I ran away, but he and his friends pursued me down the hill. They were much too fast for an 18-year-old boy to outrun, so I bolted up a tree. Fortunately, none of them could climb. Unfortunately, one brought an axe. He started cutting down the tree, I was hopeless, and I had no weapons, nobody else to help me. Then I started thinking, “Maybe if I can make him throw the axe up here, I can most certainly dodge it, or if I’m lucky it will hit the branch and it will be mine, as long as he doesn’t have that axe, it will buy me time”. Then I said “He is a fool to not just throw that axe up here and it would most certainly hit me” a little loud just for him to hear. I looked down and saw him thinking if he should do it or not. He decided to take up on my idea. The man lobbed up the axe (horrible throw if I must) and it wasn’t even near me, it hit the branch way above me. I started climbing as the bandit’s friends told him how foolish he was and now I had a weapon. While they were arguing I stealthily got the axe and jumped to the next tree. They soon got to their senses and yelled “WHERE IS HE! We had a good one this time! FIND HIM” They unsheathed their daggers and started hunting me down. I positioned myself in the tree just above one of the men and I jumped off with the axe ready to connect with his back when I saw an arrow come from nowhere pierce his leather breastplate. I landed on him and looked at the other bandits; they all had a single arrow in their chest. I looked up and saw a tall man with three others behind him. Just when I realized they were Elves the tall man said, “I am Algazar, my companions and I saw that you are in trouble and decided to help”.

~Frokei


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This concludes the second Thismonian writing contest! Please keep writing for the Harbinger, contest or not. All articles from here down are independent writing.


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The Adventures of Constable James Hawtrey
Book-1 Part- 5
'Showdown'


Constable James Hawtrey continued his journey onwards, recovering more every day. There came a morning when he awoke and when he looked at his wound, it was just a faint scar. The witch must have known when he'd be done healing, because the amulet stopped working after that. James pondered this as he rode.
He'd never really believed in seers or oracles, but rather believed in what he saw. This whole adventure was changing what he knew. He wondered how shocked the bandits would be when they met a fully recovered, and angry, Constable. He had about one more before he came across the point the letter had said there would be a man waiting.
James dismounted and put his purple and silver armour on. He also pulled his mask on and hood over it. After tying his horse to a tree, he took the equipment he would need. First he put his sword and scabbard onto his belt, and then slung a quiver of arrows over his shoulders along with his bow. He put a dagger onto his belt and a few other essential supplies. He hid the pack near his horse and continued on foot.
After some time, he came across a heavily armed man in the middle of the trail. James walked slightly bent forward, as if in pain from his now healed wound. When he was near, James spoke.
"Here I am."
The man was a monster, about seven feet tall. He wore leather armour with a heavy iron helmet. He had a battle axe slung on his back and a great sword in a scabbard on his belt. The man also had various daggers and knives on his belt. James noticed a bag on the ground a ways behind him.
"Hello James, I am Tohanr. You know me by my letter, but the entire land will soon know me as Order hunter," Tohanr drew his sword and waited.
"Where are your men? You can't take me on your own, not many can," James replied, glancing around.
"There never were any others. The assassin was hired, and the threats empty," He sneered, "You've been tricked." James let out a laugh.
"Come on then, give me your best try." James drew his sword.
Tohanr charged with a vicious overhead blow. The constable moved his sword to block and was forced down to one knee with the effort of stopping the blade. Tohanr lashed out with a kick that James leapt back to avoid. Keeping up the pressure, Tohanr stabbed toward his midsection.
Jumping back once again, James put his sword in front of himself at the ready. Tohanr took a step back and stared for a moment. Then without warning he threw a knife with lightning speed at James. The knife grazed his left shoulder, and James took another step back. James decided to go on the offense and swung his blade toward the other man’s head. Tohanr blocked it and punched at the constable’s wrist. It connected and his sword fell to the ground. James leapt back and drew his dagger. Tohanr tossed his sword and battle axe to the ground and drew his dagger as well.
'He's toying with me,' James realized as he stared down his opponent. Swinging his dagger at James' leg, it was deflected, but Tohanr threw a powerful punch into his hurt shoulder. James cried out as he felt the shoulder dislocate. He dropped the dagger and balled his right hand into a fist, holding it in front of him. Tohanr tossed his weapons to the ground and took up a fighting stance. James' left arm hung limp.
Tohanr moved forward and James threw a punch towards his head. He ducked under it and slammed his head into the constable’s chest. James doubled over and felt a sickening series of cracks in his ribs. Tohanr seized his head and brought his knee up into James' skull. James fell to the dirt, his eyes going dark to the world....


(End of first book. thank you for reading these, it means a lot. Story will continue next week in book two. Pm me for any suggestions in future, I'll read them all. What will happen to James? Will he be killed at the hands of the ferocious Tohanr? Will he be ransomed off to the highest bidder? Or is there something more to it than meets the eye? Tune in next week to find out!)




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A Strange Happening and Mythology of the Far Realms


I hath been walking around and enjoying ye view in Yallia a few days after having my citizenship of Thismonia bestowed upon me. After buying and reading Ye Olde Skazian Harbinger, I hath stumbled upon an article, saying that The Risen hath struck Thismonia (and, most likely, the rest of Skazia) again. “‘Tis horrible!’Tseems nobody is going to beyeth safe. Nay nay and thrice nay! I hath ta sharpen and keep my dagger closer to me now", I thought to myself. I walked outside the castle and made my way towards the Traveller's Inn. As I sat down, so did some odd sailor stranger nearby me. The innkeeper turned around. His skin was of a faded shade, his eyes were palely white. "Aye, are ye sick, lad?” asked the stranger besides me. The Innkeeper growled. "Sire, I suggest thou and me both silently and slowly walk in a backwards motion.’Tis one of the Risen!” I hath suggested, but the Innkeeper attacked the sailor stranger. He hath bitten him. The sailor wriggled on the ground in agony and pain, until he stopped. He stood up, and was bleeding no more. He was infected, getting thirstier for ether. I grabbed my dagger out of my sleeve (yes, I beyeth a very cautious man), and began running. "SAAAVE MEEE FORTUNAAA!" I yelled as I ran. The Risen, both o' them, caught me up. The Sailor hath made me fall and jumped on me. As he was about ta bite me, I stabbed him with my dagger. He groaned in pain and fell dead. The other one hath managed to bite me. He tore off a nice chunk o' flesh off my arm. I was groaning in pain as I stabbed the Innkeeper from the back with my other arm. "Thou hath notseen such fate coming, hath you?” I proclaimed through pain, and crawled outside. I hath lost consciousness, not ever experienced such pain in my life. I woke up in Timberwell, in a witcher's house. As I found out later, the Castle of Yallia was overrun by the Risen, but they hath migrated into southern provinces afterwards. True or not were this news I could not tell for the moment,
but 't'least Timberwell was safe. I paid the witcher who saved me a bag of gold, thanked him and left. If I was to say, the Risen are bodies of the dead (or even the Living!) who hath been strengthened and revived by necromancy, or the dark arts of magic, ways most likely not practiced by the Consortium. The way to defend thyself is unknown, yet the Witcher probably had a mixture of some sorts - my arm is healing well, and I feel no side-effects. The way of magic is believed to hath migrated from the Eastern realms and kingdoms, such as the Kohlnan Khanate. Legend in Dislveislt, my homeland, says that on the 4th day of the 2nd month of the 421st year, according to the Injucklan (a nearby tribe) calendar, the King of Misjucklans (a northern counterpart of the Injucklans), Fiel of Helireltier hath risen from his grave and slain his very own brother, Holstoi of Diskerehea, as a revenge for Holstoi having Fiel's death plotted, twisted with conspiracies. As Fiel succeeded in his undead revenge, he shouted out "THOU SHALT SUFFER THE RISEN, O INTOLERABLE WORLD! EVERY HUNDRED YEARS!" as he returned to his tomb. His fanatical necromancer followers, who thought of him as of a god, forged a cult, and its members revived the undead every 100 years. 400 years ago, an unknown disaster hast struck the town of Lairainka in Dislveislt, and 'twas destroyed. 300 years ago, a disease struck the people of Gelagokugcan, according to Irlunarus, the great Dislveislt philosopher, "turning them into brainless beasts which crave for the blood of their brothers and sisters, their fathers and children". All the scrolls of the fate of the Kingdom of Holiloglon hath gone missing 200 years ago. A 100 years ago, a 100 tears were spilled - a "plague" hath struck Mismloultur (pronounced Mis-mel-oul-tur), a far eastern kingdom. 'Twas actually the work of the Cult, called the Cult of the Ojigals. It is now the year 941 according to the Injucklan calendar, yet the month and day is unknown - the men and
Women of science shall find it out, sooner or later. 'Tis up to them.

-Travianer999


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◘▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ RELEASES ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◘
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Thismonia: Up and Coming


As always Thiks, this week we'll be having some new tech released! I am currently working on a siege machine that is often called "The Scorpion". This machine is basically a mobile ballista that shoots giant arrows and does much more damage than our common bows. Hopefully, this will help us defend our grounds from hostile invaders! Also, since our friendly Orc friends that take residence in Thismonia don't get along well with our Horses, we've decided to tame some wild boars! To get boar privileges, simply become an Orc and join the Thismonian Orc group! Also, as you probably noticed, we have received some new swords in Yallia! They look much better than our poorly crafted old ones and make us look much more professional. Make sure to practice with our new weapons! So, hopefully we all benefit from this week's tech! Happy crafting!

~Sir Brian Harwick (Xulp)


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New Smithy, new swords!

"Rewtt", a respected weaponsmith of wide renown who has forged weapons of legend across the known continents, has wound his way to Thismonia and settled down in the ancient stronghold of Combridge. After completing a thousand swords in his new "royal forge" for the Kingdom, he was granted citizenship, coin and land. Treat him with respect!


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◘▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ADVERTISEMENTS ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◘
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Thismonia RPG!

A year ago I started this, and it nearly done. THE THISMONIAN RPG!

-http://www.roblox.com/Thismonian-RPG-Forest-NIGHT-place?id=50024464


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The noble assassins of Skazia!

People of Skazia! Art thou looking for thrill and adventure? Art thou looking for easy payment? Art thou looking where to stab thy dagger? Well, look no further - THE ASSASSINS OF SKAZIA ARE HERE! Another guild, forged by fuzzbuzz101, it represents the stealthy forces of Thismonia. Join today, or give us some job by posting assassination requests on the wall! (Payments might apply.)


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◘▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ NOTICES ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◘
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Squire Tests!

We were all psyched for the squire tests, I don't about the rest, but I was excited for the tests, I mainly like new people in the order, and it was about time someone new joined. If you see J0shnew around, make sure to congratulate him. He's a brand new addition to the order, and has been working hard every day to get in. We all noticed his efforts even before he became order and rooted for him. If you missed your chance, then wait for the next squire test! If you want to get our attention, then distinguish yourselves! The next one will be next weekend.


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Royal Joust!

On next Friday’s eve, a joust will take place where champion strikes champion in contest for the king's favour, blessing, and a single wish. Not much is yet known about this, other than that all the nobles want to attend.


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Beware the Assassins!

Citizens! We face a grave threat, not an external one such as invading orcs, nor a visible one such as banditry. We have an insidious seed within our ranks that is corrupting our people, and we must remove this tumour, before it spreads beyond our control. The barbaric Skazian Assassins' guild is slaying our own members for money! We must strike, before the Assassins begin terrorizing the common people and preying upon them, too! Slay or leave the Assassins, before it is too late!

Your humble protector,
Chiropt Ouy-Cuff


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That concludes our seventh edition! Hope you enjoyed the read. Please write all constructive criticism and praise on this forum post and feel free to PM the author. Keep em scribblin’! #11799 words!


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Report Abuse
starrynina is not online. starrynina
Joined: 22 Dec 2011
Total Posts: 1442
07 Apr 2013 02:40 PM
pardon me, are there new contests?
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Quasar99 is not online. Quasar99
Joined: 21 Nov 2009
Total Posts: 9328
07 Apr 2013 02:41 PM
you know quilboar already told you to not put it here
"Mas, you should stop posting these on here. Only some of it has to do with RP."
as quoted by quilboar

"ROSE: THE BUBBLES VON SALAMANCER MEMOIRIAL LIBRARAY!!!"
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jordan519 is not online. jordan519
Joined: 19 Jan 2010
Total Posts: 66
07 Apr 2013 02:52 PM
Second place <3 Great story for first place.
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Frokei is not online. Frokei
Joined: 26 Feb 2012
Total Posts: 37
07 Apr 2013 02:55 PM
This one is amazing.
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Rubaduck4 is not online. Rubaduck4
Joined: 10 Jul 2011
Total Posts: 30
07 Apr 2013 02:57 PM
This is brilliant.
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masmusk is not online. masmusk
Joined: 03 Oct 2009
Total Posts: 3753
07 Apr 2013 03:06 PM
9000 words or pure RP and story, 2000 of RPandC&G related things. Stop crying lads. Lotta roleplaying going on here.
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Quasar99 is not online. Quasar99
Joined: 21 Nov 2009
Total Posts: 9328
07 Apr 2013 03:08 PM
mas.
quilboar ALREADY told you to not post it here
are you blind
http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=93307297

"ROSE: THE BUBBLES VON SALAMANCER MEMOIRIAL LIBRARAY!!!"
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masmusk is not online. masmusk
Joined: 03 Oct 2009
Total Posts: 3753
07 Apr 2013 03:20 PM
Then screw you both.
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fennas76 is online. fennas76
Joined: 16 Jul 2011
Total Posts: 48
07 Apr 2013 04:20 PM
I am loving these entry's keep it up.
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hugeboo322 is not online. hugeboo322
Joined: 21 Sep 2010
Total Posts: 27038
07 Apr 2013 06:55 PM
Read every story
sleepy time.
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EpicAwesomnesss is not online. EpicAwesomnesss
Joined: 27 Oct 2011
Total Posts: 34
07 Apr 2013 07:24 PM
Great edition. Took a bit of time to read.
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BransonSW is not online. BransonSW
Joined: 17 Aug 2008
Total Posts: 79
07 Apr 2013 10:53 PM
Great, but masmusk, please remember to check the spelling of names!
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lancalet is not online. lancalet
Joined: 15 Nov 2012
Total Posts: 11
08 Apr 2013 01:51 AM
Really good, they just keep getting better and better!
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Xulp is not online. Xulp
Joined: 24 Apr 2012
Total Posts: 451
08 Apr 2013 05:25 AM
Very good.
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MCmagma162 is not online. MCmagma162
Joined: 14 Jun 2012
Total Posts: 2600
08 Apr 2013 09:35 AM
Good,The next squire test is next week.I shall become squire.I've learned new things,Improved thy grammer,and more calm than ussual.I wasn't ready the last time,But this time....I am! My old saying is Failure can sometimes be the greatest teacher of them all! and I shall not fail again !
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JPFan is not online. JPFan
Joined: 11 Dec 2009
Total Posts: 11110
08 Apr 2013 09:57 AM
@quas;

i'm sorry, when did we announce quil the overlord of RP and have to do his commands?

Unlike the others, I believe this fits here in RP, despite it being a contest-type of subject.
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NarutoFox12 is not online. NarutoFox12
Joined: 22 May 2008
Total Posts: 6696
08 Apr 2013 10:10 AM
Bunch of Thismonian kiss-ups.
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Travianer999 is not online. Travianer999
Joined: 04 Aug 2008
Total Posts: 249
08 Apr 2013 11:09 AM
Naruto, how so?

BTW, when is Aureum going to be finished?
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hugeboo322 is not online. hugeboo322
Joined: 21 Sep 2010
Total Posts: 27038
08 Apr 2013 02:01 PM
Heh, if one Thismonian ain't a kiss up, it is me.
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JPFan is not online. JPFan
Joined: 11 Dec 2009
Total Posts: 11110
08 Apr 2013 02:16 PM
oh
wait
so okay
this is a
oooh
okay
lol so um
i feel like an idiot now for posting earlier.
so.
like.
continue
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MaskedIntricacy is not online. MaskedIntricacy
Joined: 05 Apr 2013
Total Posts: 12
08 Apr 2013 02:29 PM
I feel how it's odd that stories and poems are allowed in this forum, but ROLEPLAYING and fictional newspapers are prohibited?
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MaskedIntricacy is not online. MaskedIntricacy
Joined: 05 Apr 2013
Total Posts: 12
08 Apr 2013 02:30 PM
Excuse me, I worded the focus on 'ROLEPLAYING' wrong.
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hugeboo322 is not online. hugeboo322
Joined: 21 Sep 2010
Total Posts: 27038
08 Apr 2013 02:31 PM
What forum could this go on, C&G would say "Get out"
Off topic would be like "Durrhurr"
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