Fan Fic Contest - Are you the best writer?

[Bloody Bogle]

Just an FYI, I'm about about 400 words into an entry. Don't close the contest without me! I'll try to work as fast as possible.

[Bloody Bogle]

I'm now 1500 words into my entry. I won't be able to write tommorrow, but I should be able to finish my entry Friday. I'd consider it a huge favor if you kept the contest open until then.

[Bro-man]

Don't worry about it, the Contest always last until Sunday, usally depends on the one giving out the Prompts.

[Bloody Bogle]

Originally Posted by Bro-man

Don't worry about it, the Contest always last until Sunday, usally depends on the one giving out the Prompts.

Thanks. It will definitely be finished by then.

[Tornado]

I believe EL said he would judge as soon as there were 3 entries.

[Bro-man]

Guess I'm the third. Here is my story, a little short, but still I think its good. Enjoy!

Spoiler Alert!

Near the edges of the borders of Jandar, a single castle stands strong. On the highest turret on the outer wall, a lone sentry stands in his post. He keeps watch over the landscape. He watches on one side seeing the main road leading to the lands of Ullar, and on the other led into the nearby sea. In front was a vast sea of forest that stretch on for miles. He watches, any sign of movement, any hint of the enemy coming, and no matter what would happen, he will continue to watch.

He soon notice something coming out of from under the tree line. Birds flew straight out and knew something was coming if it disturbed the birds. A single horsemen was coming out. He peered in his spyglass and sees horror. The horse was a skeleton, and walked with no flesh. The rider was covered in a dark cloak, and in his left hand a long staff was wobbling at his side. The rider continued to move forward and he stopped, just five hundred yards from the castle walls. The sentry grabbed his horn and blew as hard as he could. Inside the courtyard, many torch lights were lit, and everything became alive inside the catle walls.

Men and soldiers armed themselves and Jandar's new troops settled themselves on the castle walls. Knights piled outside and made a long line in front of the castle walls. The airbourne took their positions on the walls along with the new troops, Crossbowmen, Longbows, and Musketeers. Even Vydars agents, who have been in refuge inside since Vydar's homeland was taken. They now are fighting and stopping Utgar's trade roots whenever they get the chance, hoping that they can avenge themselves against Utgar's armies. Even Ullar's mightiest elves, who were sent to help defend the castle, have mingled among the knights below. For they were the elite soldiers of their high elf king and knew how to hold the line.

The Sentry notice The long line of knights heading to the front. The Calvary, led by the Sir Dupuis was at the front. Once they were all outside, they waited and were silent. The sentry knew that no one would come out for a single person, however, it was not the case. A few tense minutes passed and everyone remained silent and the hooded figure remained. Nearby the sentry noticed one of the crossbowmen reading himself as his commander told him to.

Out on the field, the hooded figure reavled himself. Through the looking glass the Sentry saw a boney hand reach under the hood, pulling it back. His eyes widened as the figure's face, was not a face at all, but a skeleton.

No eyes, no flesh, no skin, was on him, only a skull of a skeleton. It opened its mouth and the sentry heard a *twang* sound nearby. A bolt went pass and flew the distance of five hundred yards. The bolt hit the skelton at its neck, dead center. Its head flew off and hit the ground, the steed went back and forth, confused. The men below and on the walls cheered, but were quickly silent by their commanders. The Sentry looked in his spyglass and saw a green light coming around the head. It was lifted up and was going higher toward the Headless horsemen. The headless body raised its right hand outward and grabbed onto the skull in a firm grip. The men below the sentry gasped and were not sure what to do. The Sentry swallowed and his heart was beating fast.

No one moved, no one breathed.

Then the skull opened its mouth, and a chilling laughter eminated from its maw. The headless horsemen lifted its staff and it began to glow green. Then from out of the woods, the same green light was eminated. Hundreds of figures flew out of the woods coming toward the horsemen. Zombies and skelton warriors, came in droves. More horsemen were coming out in waves. The Vampire lord, Cyprien Esenwien's favorite Skeleton Calvary. The sentry mouth gapped as he saw figures coming out of the top of the tree line. Vampies. They flew in the air, hundreds were scattered all around, not clustered as the zombies or skeletons. The army of the dead was here.

The massive horde stopped in front of the headless horsemen, who's chilling laughter echoed in the night. The sentry looked below and noticed that the elves were stiff, and ready to face agaisnt their mortal enemies. He looked over to his right and saw a few more bowmen and a musketeer readied themselves. The sentry looked out again and the sound of gunfire came. A second later, the horsemen's head burst in his hand, ending the deathly laughter. More arrows struck the headless body and the steed. The two were down and the green light faded from them. They didn't move again. Below Sir Dupuis went in front of his men, a line of his Templar Calvary and the other knights readied themselves. He called out, so that all may hear.

"Men! We have faced much hardships since our time here on Valhalla."

As he spoke the horde let out a massive cry and they began to stir among the ranks.

"We have seen our friends, killed by these monsters. Our allies, suffering many hardships, and endless battles. We are here today to protect the lives of those that have suffered. We are the last line to defend the free peoples of Jandar, and Ullar alike. We are here today, as free men! We are born with it! And we shall not have it taken away! We shall hold the line!"

The horde let out another cry and began its charge. The vampires above flew out, blanketing the sky with their numbers and the ground below grew dark as the horde began its approach.

Sir Dupuis reared his steed to the front and drew his sword.

"For here we are, at the mouth of Hell itself! Let us send these demons, back to their infernal pits of whence they came! Charge!"

He charged forward, the knights also sallied out with him, crying out their warcries, as they went forth into battle. The elves charged forward, keeping pace with the calvary as they charged forth to slay the undead. Gunfire and the snapping of bow strings filled the air, as it went toward the advancing horde. Then the massive walls of enemies, clashed with the knights and elves, and battle was joined.

The sentry sat on his spot. Curled into a ball, rocking back and forth. His hands clenched together, as he listened to the cries of the dead fill the night air. He was hoping, praying, wishing that the nightmare will end.

A cry from above filled the air, opening the eyes of the sentry and he looked up into the sky. A vampire was coming at him from above, crying out with fire in its eyes, his sword brandish out to taste its first blood. The Sentry grabbed his gun and cried out as he fired away, the bullets hitting into the vampire. The vampire crashed into him, and the two tumbled off the high turret, down to the center of the castle below.

I had to think really hard and careful to get this right, I hope it all worked out. Hope you guys enjoyed!

[Bloody Bogle]

Originally Posted by Tornado

I believe EL said he would judge as soon as there were 3 entries.

In that case, I'm making a personnal request to EL: I have a Friday afternoon with nothing bette to do. If you wait until Sunday, instead of judging immediately, you will get to read a (hopefully) very good story.

[Elven Lord]

I told the others I would judge when I had 3 entries. If they are willing to be sporting and have me withold judgment until tomorrow I will gladly wait. Though the judging may take place any time after 4 whether your entry is in or not.

[Bloody Bogle]

Originally Posted by Elven Lord

I told the others I would judge when I had 3 entries. If they are willing to be sporting and have me withold judgment until tomorrow I will gladly wait. Though the judging may take place any time after 4 whether your entry is in or not.

That sounds more than fair. I discovered this thread only very recently, and entries from me in the future will be prompt.

[Bloody Bogle]

Done! Sorry to keep everyone waiting!

Spoiler Alert!

A solemn sentry stands atop his bastion. Gravely surveying the surrounding landscape. The Allied generals are losing the war. Army after army has been routed; chased into a dwindling number of strongholds like this one. Stragglers are coming in everyday, and always there is fear of a spy slipping through the under-defended keep's nets. No one in the keep expects a victory, but there is always the hope to see their families again. Hope never dies while men live.

Sir William watched as more men limped through the gate, the rusted portcullis raised just enough to let the stragglers in. He spied Sir Denrick among them, easily recognized by his blond hair even from atop Eagle’s Nest, the highest tower in the miserable, rundown little keep that he’d called home the past seven days. It was overcast, like it had been the past few days. Since the battle. The rain drizzled down on him, and created a fog over the stark countryside. The brazier that was lit would help him see through the fog now, but he knew when night fell, whoever was on guard would have trouble seeing past the glow of the fire into the darkness. It also kept William warm. This northern territory was as cold as the wintertime back home. William had never enjoyed winter.

“Ho there, William!” a voice called from behind him. William turned to see Sir Gaius climbing out of the staircase that led below, “The leg is better, I see!”

“Enough to walk upon,” William told him, “Ana couldn’t heal it completely, not with so many worse off than I was. I still have a limp. How went the battle after I left?”

Gaius hesitated. “Not well. Utgar’s forces overwhelmed our host five days past. Skirmishes have been fought since, harassing their supply lines and such. But we have no army more than four thousand strong within fifty miles. Sergeant Drake and Sir Dupuis have control of what remains of our force, from last report making a full retreat south. And William,” he added slowly, “can you fight with that leg?”

“They’re on their way, aren’t they?”

Gaius nodded “One way or another, Utgar found out about this place. Nearly two thousand strong, mostly Gruts and Marro, but there’s at least half a dozen scores Minions with them. They’ll be here this time tomorrow.”

William shook his head. The keep wasn’t in the best condition, but it was still a very defendable position. In a normal siege, they could defend against five times their numbers. With the Minions’ ability to fly taken into account, they’d be lucky if they could hold off half that many. Just then, his knee buckled, and he found himself lying on the cold, wet stone, and it was all he could do to not cry out as a severe pain jolted up his injured left leg.

“I’ll see it to it you’re left on the tower, a crossbow in hand tomorrow.” Gaius said, helping him to his feet. “You’d get hacked to pieces down in the courtyard.”

“You have my thanks Gaius, you’ve been a true friend to me.”

“Go now and rest, it’s almost sundown, and I fear we’ll have quite a day tomorrow. I’ll take the rest of your watch. Get off the leg as much as possible. Falling like that tomorrow could mean the end of you.”

“I thank you again Gaius, but pray, might I ask you a question before I’m off?” William asked.
“Anything for you, my friend,” Gaius replied.

“Even now, when it limits your vision on watch, your helmet remains upon your head. We are too high for arrows or anything else to hit us , so why do you allow it to impair your vision?”

“You may know the story of the King’s Ferry Massacre. It is well known amongst the Templar. There was maybe two score of us on a routine patrol, making camp for the night, when Hawthorne’s Knights rushed us from the trees. We outnumbered his knights, but there were over a dozen crossbowmen concealed in the trees. Most of, as we had been making camp, had our helmets off, myself included. They aimed for our heads, and most of them struck their mark. I was one of the lucky ones. By the time the knights reached us, they outnumbered us nearly two to one, and it was not five minutes before I was the sole survivor, left for dead face down in the mud. None of us expected an attack that day either. That, Sir William, is why I always wear my helmet.”

Sir William nodded. He’d heard the story of King’s Ferry, though he had not known there were survivors. It had been the first time Hawthorne had become known by the Knights of Weston. “Tis god a reason as any, I suppose.” William said, limping towards the stairs. Gaius was an interesting man. An ex-Templar who had given up his religious zeal after being summoned to Valhalla, Gaius was an excellent addition to the Knights of Weston. Though they’d met just before the last battle, he’d already saved William from getting killed. The blow to his leg would have been followed with a blow to the head if not for Gaius intervening. And of course, Gaius was right, William knew, about tomorrow. They would have quite a day.

The following day proved to be nearly identical to the last. The fog remained throughout the night, so there was no sun. William watched from atop his perch as the afternoon dragged on, and the clouds grew darker overhead. He studied the men next to him. Two men, George and Henry, were from an order of soldiers called the Fourth Massachusetts. There was also an elf archer by the name of Fairn, though the short man kept to himself. William preferred the soldiers from the Fourth Massachusetts by far; in addition to being better company, men of their order tended to have the same chivalrous beliefs as the Knights of Weston, as opposed to the wild behavior of the elf.
“They’re here!” Henry cried out, breaking the silence. William moved over to the edge of the tower for a better look, and he could see men all over the keep moving to get a similar view. Sure enough, shapes were moving towards them through the fog, not half a mile from them. Slowly, they came into view. Sir Gaius had been half right. Out of the fog came Marro by the hundreds, Drones were followed by Drudges and Stingers. Just when his hopes began to raise, Minions poured out of the, at least two or three hundred, all flying towards the meager fortress. William shook his head. That was more than anticipated. This battle would have been hard enough without them, having to face twice what was initially expected was suicidal. The only thing in their favor was that the Gruts were absent from the fighting.

William drew his crossbow. George, Henry, and Fairn fired long before him, having the range advantage over the crossbow. All of them found their marks, and three Minions fell from the approaching mass. William lined up his shot, picking out a minion that was hurdling towards them. The bolt missed his chest, but the result was still pleasing. It hit the Minion in the wing, and the Minion fell from the sky. William smiled as he began to reload his crossbow. Four down, over two hundred to go. In fact, he only had time to let off one additional shot before a dozen Minions attempted to rush the undermanned tower. William shot the nearest Minion, but frowned when he saw Henry shoot the same one a split second earlier. His shot wasted, William drew his sword. There would be no time to reload before they were upon them. He let his crossbow fall to the ground and drew his sword. He hacked the leg off a minion flying over his head, and it crashed onto the tower surface behind him, screaming. Another one landed in front of him, and he parried a swipe to his face. The heavy axe pressed against his sword, and William wished he had hadn’t given up his shield for a crossbow as he dug his feet into the ground, and it was all he could do to not let the axe crash against his skull.

An arrow hit the minion in the eye, and it fell backwards, dead. William turned to give thanks, but Fairn had already moved on, sending another arrow flying at another Minion. Someone cried out, and William turned to see a Minion hacking at Henry and George, as they attempted to bat away his swipes with their muskets. He rushed towards the Minion, stabbing it from behind, even as George collapsed to the ground, blood seeping from his chest.

“Is he..?” William asked Henry. Henry bent down, put a hand to George’s chest, then shook his head sadly.

“In the courtyard!” Fairn shouted, and William ran to the edge of battlements to see what was happening. Things were, in short, worse than he’d expected. Gruts were streaming into the courtyard from somewhere in the wall opposite Eagle’s Nest, and were flanking the outnumbered knights.

“Fall back! Retreat to the Great Hall!” he heard Denrick yell, his yellow hair making him easy to see, even as high as William was. Henry moved towards the stairs, but William raised his hand.

“We’re too far away. Anyone in this tower or on the wall won’t be able to get back before the courtyard’s overrun. The best we can do is give covering fire to the men down below and hope they don’t attack the tower in force.” William told him, and walked over to the hatch leading down to the rest of the tower. Taking an axe from a dead Minion, he slid the handle into the latch, “locking” the door. Fairn handed him his crossbow, having picked it up of the floor, and William, after painstakingly reloading it, fired it into the mass of gruts. He fired more shots, though it had little effect on the mass of gruts and marro, who had joined the gruts in the courtyard.

Plasma fire shot towards the battlements, and William ducked behind a crenellation. A cry went out from his right, and he turned to see the charred, disfigured body that had once been Henry. He shook his head, and went to reload. There was no time to mourn the death of his comrades, not now. William wound his crossbow back, and turned to aim once again. There may not have been time to mourn his friends, but there was time to avenge them. But, just then, something slammed on the hatch to the roof. “Let me in, they’re right behind me!”

William dropped his crossbow, drawing his sword as he rushed to the hatch. “If we let him in, they overwhelm us in seconds!” Fairn called over the din of the battle.
“We’ve lost too many, if I can save just one, I will!” William replied, yanking the axe out of latch. The hatch opened, and Sir Gaius burst from the opening, retreating behind William. William stabbed at the leading grut, who’d been only feet behind Gaius, and quickly closed the hatch again, putting the axe back in its place. Banging began immediately. “That should hold them while you regain your breath, Gaius, are you injured?”

“Nothing major, scrapes and bruises, mostly.” the knight replied, breathing heavily.

“When they overran the courtyard, I feared the wor-” William was cut off by the sound of trumpets, blaring from the front of the castle.

“We’re saved!” Fairn shouted. William looked out, and much to his delight, a host flying Jandar’s banners was rushing towards the old keep. Templars lead the charge, having already spanned half the gap between the main host and the main gate. A boom went off in the courtyard, followed by rifle going off from somewhere above them. William watched up to see at least forty airbornes parachuting towards the keep, throwing grenades into the courtyard below, killing Utgar’s men by the hundreds. They were packed so close together there was nothing to do as grenades rained from the sky.

“Drake and Dupuis got here just it time, it would seem.” William remarked.

“Not in time to save you.” Gaius remarked, as William lost feeling in his mid-section. He looked down, a sword protruding from his abdomen. William twisted to see behind him, but the pain was too much to bear. Then, just as quick as it had gotten there, the sword was yanked free.

“Wh-why?” William asked, as he fell to the ground. He could see Fairn across the tower, lying in a pool of blood, very similar to what he imagined must be happening to himself.

“Does this explain anything?” Gaius snarled, removing his helmet. William had not seen that face in a very long time, not since he was the mouth of the River Lorie, right before he’d been summoned to Valhalla.

“Hawthorne.” William wheezed, though it was getting more and more difficult to breathe, let alone talk.

“Yes. It’s me, you fool. Don’t tell me you believed that story about leaving the Templars. Or that nonsense about keeping my helmet on! And who do you think told the gruts about the postern gate into the courtyard. Between the fog and the Minions attacking the wall, it was too easy! If those damned Marro had the brains to recognize me, Denrick’s head would be on a spike. I expected it from the gruts, but the Marro! And now its too late. In minutes this wretched castle will be swarming with Jandar forces. You there! We’re done here, get us away!” Hawthorne finished, turning away from him, calling to one of the few remaining Minions.

Sir William clenched his hand into a fist in what had been rage, but then curiosity as he realized he was squeezing something. A crossbow. His crossbow. And Hawthorne’s back was turned, his helmet off. William almost laughed at the irony of Hawthorne’s story about his helmet. But it wasn’t over yet. What should have been an easy shot would not be, not with his guts falling out of his stomach. William raised the crossbow, aimed, and with his final breath, fired.

END.

[Bro-man]

Alrgiht, lets do a quick head count. (This is all in range of who posted first.)

Tornados story, Goes around an ogre who dosen't believe in hope and can kill any one in his path. He tosses his giant sword into his enemies before he dies.

SOA's story his based around an elf who day by day deals with the agony of war. He lives and continues to fight under Ullars service.

My sorry goes focuses on the sentry and what we see through his eyes as he watches his friends and allies face against the army of the dead. He dies when a vampire crashes into him and the two fall off the turret while he continues to fire away.

And lastly, Bloody bogle, his Story is around Sir william as he and a fellow knihgt talk the night away. When all of a sudden he was stabbed in the back and the knight was Sir Hawthorne in disguise. As his back was turned william is holding onto a cross bow. With his last breath he fires it at the traitor. Not knowing if he killed him or not.

This is quite a selection of stories. Can't wait to see who the winner will be!

[Son of Arathorn]

Originally Posted by Bro-man

Alrgiht, lets do a quick head count. (This is all in range of who posted first.)

Tornados story, Goes around an ogre who dosen't believe in hope and can kill any one in his path. He tosses his giant sword into his enemies before he dies.

SOA's story his based around an elf who day by day deals with the agony of war. He lives and kills his General as revenge for the strife brought by the war.

My sorry goes focuses on the sentry and what we see through his eyes as he watches his friends and allies face against the army of the dead. He dies when a vampire crashes into him and the two fall off the turret while he continues to fire away.

And lastly, Bloody bogle, his Story is around Sir william as he and a fellow knihgt talk the night away. When all of a sudden he was stabbed in the back and the knight was Sir Hawthorne in disguise. As his back was turned william is holding onto a cross bow. With his last breath he fires it at the traitor. Not knowing if he killed him or not.

This is quite a selection of stories. Can't wait to see who the winner will be!

Fixed.