Location: Canada-BC-the Death Star (aka Maple Ridge)
Posts: 26
Re: Fan Fic Contest: Are you the best writer?
Very nice, Dragonfire (I feel there's no point in quoting, seeing as I'll have to exclude the majority of your post). I think both ideas are excellent, and very well written. I understand what you mean with the transition from mind to paper: flawless to flawfull (yes, I know that's not a word), but I still think you've managed to pull off both of your stories with consummate success.
Kudos to you!
PS - Son of Arathorn, good luck with judging. All I can say is I'm glad I'm not in your position right now - There'd be a six-way tie for first place!
I imagine that we're waiting on SoA to finish his story, just for timing convenience. While his story won't count, releasing it next week wouldn't do well cause we're looking for stories from that week's prompt. Or, at least, that's the logic I'm applying to it.
Also, shameless plug time! The Joint Story is starting up again and we need as many writers as we can get! We're currently voting on the prompt for the Joint Story, so head on over there and get involved so you can get your opinion in before it's too late! Any questions can be asked there. Thank you for your time.
In the time its taken you to judge, I've already written another story!
Once upon a time, there was a Heroscaper named Son of Arathorn. He wrote a good story one time for the Fan Fiction contest, so another heroscaper, the righteous and enigmatic Dragonfire9788, declared him the winner. Following tradition, Son of Arathorn, or SoA, as some call him, came up with a prompt that many people considered to be cool. The writing soon commenced.
In two weeks time, many stories came in from all across the land, written by writers who were about to kill each other. Their impatience was driving them crazy and someone was about to get hurt.
Then, out of the shadows, came the aforementioned Dragonfire9788 who is very handsome. He wrote a story about what he was witnessing, but the story had a dangerous idea in it. The idea was that their anger should not be directed each other, but at the judge who was taking a long time, SoA.
One by one, the writer's converged on SoA and they beat him with gigantic pencils. Amidst the onslaught, SoA cried out, "If only I had judged sooner!"
Excellent work, DF. Beautiful, perhaps your best yet.
I agree, though. If SoA doesn't hurry up, we may very well find him and beat him with...something. Giant pencils are cool, but spiked cudgels worked quite nicely too.
Sorry this took so long, hope it's worth the wait.
Ok, I'm gonna make you guys read my story first and then you'll get to see the standings. Here it is. Enjoy.
Spoiler Alert!
Shafts of golden light lit the camp as dawn broke. The jagged mountains to the east kept the full light from coming through until hours after sunrise. The air was heavy, thick with dew and anticipation. Water flicked off tent flaps as they burst open, warriors crossing their makeshift thresholds. Equipment was checked, swords sharpened, and shields anxiously hefted as the collective forces of the Allied Generals prepared to march.
In the middle of the camp was a hastily erected command center, by no means permanent yet towering over the others. Five lieutenants detached themselves from the crowds and made for the tent. One by one they parted the flaps and entered. First to come, ever the punctual soldier, was Sergeant Drake Alexander, the renowned Commander of Jandar's Northern Army. Straightening his uniform, he swallowed the lump in his throat, clenched a fist, and entered. He was followed closely by Agent Carr, Vydar's oldest recruit in the War for the Wellsprings. The only reason the man hadn't been in first was his extensive training. Never enter a structure first without a drawn weapon. As his sword was sheathed and his pistol holstered, he kept back. Next came Morgrimm Forgehammer, prime commander of the General Aquilla's forces in the southern jungles of the Ticalla. His extensive beard braided neatly and his weapons shining, he held his head as high as he could, a bit taller than Drake's waist. Quietly after the dwarf came Kato Katsuro, Daimyo commander of Einar's Imperial Dynasty army. His hair was combed, his armor polished, and his face mask and helmet under one arm. Lastly came Jorhdawn, Elven Wizard of the famous Nine. At ease in the morning sun, she strode confidently to meet with the Generals and their most trusted soldiers.
The scene in the tent when they arrived was orderly, if tense. All five Generals were present, engaged in various activities. Jandar and Aquilla stood, studying a map laid out on a flattened rock. Ullar was pacing the length of the tent, speaking in hushed tones to Einar, who in contrast to Ullar, stood rock-still. Only Vydar sat, reclining in a wooden chair, his dark wings folded and his hands massaging his temples. As the lieutenants entered the tent, they each bowed to their respectable General, and took a seat from one of the five chairs set out. They waited.
Finally, The Generals stopped talking and faced them. It was Jandar who spoke first. "As you know, we have drawn all available forces to our current position." Before he could continue, Vydar mumbled something under his breath. Jandar flicked an annoyed glance at the General, then resumed his briefing. "While some may think of this as... unwise, the majority of our number believe that this is a necessary move. The recent gains of territory by Utgar's forces," Drake shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "while giving him strength, has also left him vulnerable, with his army spread thin to retain such quantities of conquest. We have decided that this may work to our advantage. Utgar himself is positioned on the front lines to oversee his campaign. While he keeps a measurable distance from the actual fighting, we know he enjoys seeing the fruits of his evil." Vydar smirked. Jandar noticed, and decided to give credit where credit was due. Vydar spoke now.
"The latest battle on my lands was not all it seemed to be. Though I lost many good men, Utgar has lost worst. His camp is set over the most tempting bait imaginable. In a gracious gesture by myself," Ullar let out a snort that was just audible. Vydar took no notice. "I allowed Utgar to take one of the Wellsprings my troops occupied. He is camped there now, with his most trusted advisors and commanders."
"So you want us to spring the trap?" Drake received stares all around. Interrupting a General was considered impolite, but interrupting Vydar could be deadly.
Vydar's eyes narrowed, but his lips curled upwards in a half-smile. "Yes. Exactly." Aquilla stepped forwards now.
"The Wellspring that Utgar now occupies is not exactly the best location to be assaulted at. It lies in a low valley, surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs. The only real defenses it possesses are rivers on either side, and a wall surrounding the inner working of the outpost. If we strike now, we may have a chance to end this war." The only female General stepped back, beckoning to the soldiers to look at the map. "Look here. The valley has two major entrances, carved out by the rivers. Our plan is somewhat simple, but then it can be considering our advantages. We send a fairly large war party through the upper entrance, and force Utgar to retreat. As he moves for the lower entrance, the remainder of our forces will reveal themselves in the foothills around the lower entrance. Caught between our armies, Utgar will be surrounded and crushed."
Agent Carr and Jorhdawn both frowned. The wizard cleared her throat. "What is there to stop Utgar from simply flying out of the mess the minute we appear on the horizon?"
Aquilla smiled patiently. "We have it covered. In fact, I hope he does take to the skies. Before we go in, the best snipers in our armies will be positioned on the cliffs, waiting. If he leaves the ground, he's a dead kyrie."
Jandar stepped forward again, assuming control of the briefing. "Before the initial assault, you will all be personally given you instructions on troop placement and final alterations. Go now." The lieutenants stood, bowed, and left.
As Drake made his way back to Jandar's section of the camp, he felt a feeling welling up inside his chest. This was their chance. Their opportunity to put an end to it all. To finally have peace. As he strode into the tent occupied by Jandar's finest, he grinned.
Agent Carr was not so convinced. As they left the tent, he pulled Jorhdawn aside. "I don't like it." Jorhdawn nodded.
"I know. Nothing is this easy. And besides, killing Utgar might not end the war. Some of his commanders are just as evil as he is, if not worse."
Carr's face almost betrayed him, but not quite. He knew there was possibly something worse. Vydar's scouts had gotten in reports of a new sort of power arising in the Southeast. He almost told Jorhdawn. Almost. "War is a fragile thing. A single kill in the right place can tip the balance of power dramatically. Back on Earth, we called them shatterpoints. Perhaps in the early days of the war, Utgar was the shatterpoint. After seven years of this, I can't be sure anymore."
Jorhdawn cleared her throat. Carr suddenly noticed that he was standing unnervingly close to the wizard. He took a hasty step back. Jorhdawn spoke. "Do not speak of these... doubts, to the troops. We'll need all the morale we can get." Carr nodded. "Good luck, Agent Carr."
The agent swallowed. "Good luck," he whispered. They parted ways, and went for their tents.
Mogrimm Forgehammer entered the tent, slightly smaller than those around it. Smaller than normal beds lined the sides of the tent, with a clear aisle down the middle. All about dwarves milled around, packing any supplies, sharpening weapons, and preparing for departure. To the front of the tent were several contingents of Axegrinders, and with them their leader, Migol Ironwill. In the far back of the tent were new recruits, dwarves with grey cloaks and hoods, and beautifully fashioned axes. They had also come from a world at war, and though they often refused to speak of it, but occasionally one would speak of their home, with vast cities and mines under the majestic mountains.
Mogrimm shook his head. He shouldn't daydream, they were about to be off. He raised his hammer, and the tent fell silent.
"We are about to be off, my friends. Be prepared. This battle may be difficult. Many may die. However..." The tent was quiet enough to hear a dwarf tear a blade of grass with his heavy boot. "We shall emerge victorious!" Yells exploded in the tent, and axe handles were pounded on the ground. Mogrimm opened his mouth for a last shout, but the troops beat him to it. "TO WAR!!!"
They had marched for hours. Early on, they had split in preparation for the ambush. The bulk of Jandar and Ullar's forces had gone South, while Einar, Vydar and Aquilla's armies had gone North. Snipers from all armies went Northeast, to infiltrate the cliffs around the valley.
Sgt. Alexander was feeling confident. He was commanding Jandar's forces, which consisted mainly of Knights, Sentinels, and nearly every warrior Jandar could summon. They marched at a quick pace with Ullar's armies of Vipers, Protectors, and Elves. Everything was in order. The troops were confident, the scouts reported a clear way to the valley, and to top it off, Raelin was walking with him instead of flying. She was quiet though and it bothered him. "Hey," Drake asked. Raelin turned to face him.
"Yes?"
"You okay? You seem... distant."
Raelin smiled, but it was forced. "Yes, yes I'm fine."
Drake wasn't sure. "Really?"
Raelin snapped. "Yes, really! Why is it your business?"
Drake was taken aback. Raelin had never, not once, spoken to him crossly. "I was worried. If that's a crime, then-" Drake stopped taking. A tear was tracing it's way down the kyrie's face. "Tell me. What is it?"
Raelin turned away for a moment, then looked back. "Concan's dead."
Drake sighed. He had lost many comrades in the past years. "When? How?"
Raelin stammered. She never stammered. "Two days ago, a party of MacDirk Warriors found his body while passing through Bleakwoode. His head was gone, and- s-so were his hands. As they were taking what was left back to their camp, they found his head. Stuck on a pike next to the road."
Drake was stunned by this. Utgar had pulled out of Bleakwoode recently. "But- but we drove him back weeks ago! How could he do this?"
Raelin set her jaw and gripped her spear. "All they know is, it looked like Concan was interrogated before he died, and a symbol was... branded, into his chest."
Drake felt vaguely sick. "Utgar's Eye?"
She frowned, tears pooling in the recess of her chin. "No. It was new, something they haven't seen before. A skull, almost."
Puzzled, Drake decided to let the matter rest. "I'm sorry." They resumed the march.
At long last, they reached the entrance to the valley. A line of trees obscured their massive force from Utgar's view in the valley. Just over the trees however, scouts could see Utgar's flag upon a small outpost, hardly more than four low walls and a splintered wooden door. Drake gave the order to get into formation and wait. He looked around for Jorhdawn, hoping to confirm plans. Strangely, he couldn't. He was told she was in council with the Nine. As he started back towards the Standard of Weston, he heard a horn blow. Drake extended his right arm, and grabbed the top of a tree with his grapple gun attached to his arm. As he reeled himself up to the tree, he heard the collective roar of thousands. He reached the top, and looked up into the valley. Their Allies had begun the charge.
Einar's armies led the charge into the valley. Hundreds of Gladiators, legions of Romans, line upon line of Yari sprinted forward from the bottleneck at the Northern end. The Emperor Zelrig took flight, and glided on drafts of air, keeping pace with the humans. From the air, the mighty dragon spat blazing fireballs into the ramshackle fortress. The North Wall exploded in fire, and from it charged dozens of orcs, at least half of them ablaze. The mighty Emperor was merciless. Those orcs who escaped his fire were cut down immediately by Einar's foot soldiers. As they reached the walls, rushing inside, a jet of fire screamed from the gaping hole. At least five Gladiators fell, and more ran, their bodies now torches. A second horn sounded, and the forces of Vydar and Aquilla moved up. Quasatch Hunters mingled with horder of Warforged Soldiers, charging down the battlefield, weapons drawn and held high.
Mimring took flight from within the ruined structure. As he glided, he breathed an inferno into the charging masses. The air became rank with the smell of scorched animal hair, and the Warforged fused into a solid piece. It was all the beast could do before both Zelrig's fire and Omnicron rounds collided with the dragon, sending it to the ground below. What was left of the apes dog-piled the pathetic beast, finishing him with cruel, feral indifference to the creature's suffering.
Not wanting to take any more chances, Einar recalled his troops. A quick order was given, and the army split. Two thirds moved to the flanks of the makeshift structure itself, while the rest of the army moved in from the front. It appeared soon enough that Utgar had made his choice. A vanguard of Minions funneled out like hornets from a nest, and slammed into the troops at the front. The flanks rushed forward, swamping the rubble, and finally Utgar fled. Through the South entrance he rode on a black horse, followed by his own commanders. Quickly, the Minions turned to follow, only to have more than half their number stabbed in the back by Gladiators.
As Utgar and what remained of his vanguard fled, several Minions took to the sky. They didn't get far, as snipers bullets pierced their helmets.
Now the army at the South entrance revealed itself. Even from fifty meters, Drake could see the Valkyrie's face go from surprise to anger to blind rage. As the Minions fell to the Earth around him, Utgar's face changed. It was no longer surprise, nor shock, nor anger, nor rage. It was something closer to despair. Drake almost hesitated to call for the charge, and then he remembered what the Valkyrie had done, how many villages burned, how many lives wasted. Sgt. Alexander's face twisted into a snarl. "FOR VALHALLA!!! CHARGE!!!" His soldiers took up the call, and they ran.
Utgar knew he had lost the minute he saw the blasted human, Drake. The Valkyrie let out a scream of fury, high and cold. In his rage, he drew his sword. Long, it's blade black and hilt golden, red gems gleamed in handle. It was stained with blood. Though he had washed it in Vydar's Wellspring on arrival, it hadn't done any good. The sword had bit into too much flesh to ever be truly clean. Though the Valkyrie knew he would die today, he also knew that this blade would aid him in taking with him as many of the scum as he could reach. Lost in glorious thoughts of a final battle, a Minion unlucky enough to be on Utgar's right side was decapitated as the Valkyrie swung it in an arc. Every one of his lieutenants screamed. "DEATH!"
The two armies met midway between their charges. The first wave of knights literally bounced from all but a few of the Minion's shields. Line upon line of Vipers threw themselves into the fray, stripping living flesh from the kyrie. It seemed that they would break the line. They could see Utgar, just meters away. Then a pale form in red armor cut down a Minion. At first the Knights were puzzled, but they quickly realized that Cyprien had only cut down the kyrie to get into the fray faster. The Undead Lord quickly began to make short work of the knights. He slashed his blades, bit with his fangs, and dodged nearly every blow they could throw at him. As the heroes began to fight through the throng of their own troops, Esenwein spotted the renowned kyrie, Raelin. He bared his long, stark white fangs, now slick with blood, and he flew. Barreling through the weak humans, he left his swords behind, both embedded in the chest of Sir Denrick. As he reached Raelin, the saw him, and swung her spear. Cyprien could not stop himself. He was impaled upon the spear. Sliding own the shaft, he lunged. As he grasped her shoulders, the warrior spat in his face. The Vampire snarled, threw back his head, and bit down.
"No... NO!" Drake saw the whole thing. He couldn't reach her. Too many knights and Vipers in between. He did the only thing he could. he pulled out the pistol holstered in his belt, took aim, and fired.
Jorhdawn was near when Raelin was attacked. She was wading toward them through the tide of charging soldiers when Cyprien began to feast. If she moved fast, she might have been able to stop him, to kill the vampire, to incinerate his body. She wasn't fast enough.
In the sea of troops moving forward, there was an eddie. A standstill. Drake kneeled on the ground, Raelin's cold, pale corpse clutched in his arms. Jorhdawn stood, shocked. The charred, ruined lump of flesh that was Cyprien Esenwein lay nearby. The Sgt. was sobbing, bawling like a child. The expression on his face was twisted, anguished, horrified. Unimaginable. He hadn't been able to save her. Drake's bullet had pierced Cyprien, while Elven fire incinerated what was left.
"Get up." Jorhdawn's voice sounded louder than anything Drake had heard in his lifetime.
"What?"
"Get up Sergeant. There's nothing anyone can do. She may be gone, but Utgar is still here." Jorhdawn's stare was perilous, daring the soldier to argue with her.
Drake's eyes narrowed. "Utgar..."
Jorhdawn seized her opportunity. "Yes, Utgar. He did this, all of this! Go. Lead the charge, bring him down!"
Drake moved almost mechanically. He picked up the Spear of Gerda, and strapped it to his back. His eyes were dark. "He will suffer."
Utgar was surrounded. Einar and Vydar's forces had flanked him, while Jandar and Ullar's armies had cut off his retreat. All the Valkyrie had left was three Minions. The corpses of his soldiers were around him. Ne-Gok-Sa, the Marro warlord was in pieces. Taelord and Runa had fallen on top of each other, daggers and shruikens in their backs. He didn't know where Cyprien was. Utgar decided to make an executive decision. "Stand down," the General growled. The Minions looked puzzled, and slightly disappointed. "I said stand down!" Utgar screamed at them. The Minions dropped their axes, and Utgar threw his to the ground. Slowly, The Allied Generals flew to him, bristling with weapons and honor guards of kyrie.
Jandar was smiling grimly. "You wish to surrender?"
Utgar gritted his teeth. "Yes. What are your terms?"
Jandar nodded a moment, then spoke. "You are to release you hold on all territory gained during this war. You are to send all warriors you command back to their home worlds, after which you will go into exile in the Volcarren Wasteland. If you are seen anywhere else in Valhalla, you will be put to death. Understood?"
Utgar nodded. It wasn't the best deal, but he was prepared to take it, seeing as he was going to betray them anyway. "Certainly. Though, please, may I be allowed to-" Utgar never finished his sentence. A spear embedded itself in his throat, tearing his jugular vein. Utgar halved whatever life he had left by ripping the spear out.
Jandar whipped around. Sgt. Drake Alexander was standing not six meters away, breathing heavily. He had thrown the spear at five meters per second, from just that distance away from Utgar. The Valkyrie hadn't had a chance. "Drake!" Jandar roared. What have you done? He had surrendered!"
"With all due respect Jandar, he didn't deserve the deal you gave him."
Jandar was shocked, he was sputtering. "Be that as it may Sergeant, now he cannot order his troops to stand down. We could have avoided pointless fighting! Now you've extended this war, you, you idiot!" Jandar began to move towards Drake, sword drawn. Night was falling, the clouds were drawing like curtains. Every soldier within eyeshot drew a breath as Jandar advanced upon the finest his armies had to offer. Drake Alexander didn't move. Jandar drew back his right arm, sword gleaming in the dying light. The ground shook.
"What was that?" Jandar stopped, lowering his sword just a fraction of an inch. "What was that?" The ground shook again. Again. Again.
The dwarf closest to Mogrimm Forgehammer looked away from the scene between Jandar and the blonde haired soldier. His eyes widened, shining in the night. His grey cloak rustled as he began to shake. That pounding... he had heard it before... deep in the caverns of home...
It was now dark. The pounding had stopped. All was silent. Unnaturally silent. Ullar spoke. "What is it," he whispered. "What?"
Vydar breathed out. "That, my green armored friend, is the deep breath before the plunge."
"GRRRAAAUUUGGHHH!!!" A collective roar shook the valley walls. The soldiers looked up, to see the dark forms of their snipers tumbling from the cliffs edge. All around them, the forces of the Allied Generals saw the black outlines of warriors springing into view, and flooding the entrances to the valley. They were cut off, encircled by a writhing mass of orcs, goblins, and creatures too grotesque to describe. Every soldier in the valley stared, frozen in realization. They were trapped like rats. Stuck in an indent in the ground, surrounded by enemies, with no way out.
In the darkness, lights sprang from the armies of the Allies. Torches were lit, and the full measure of their predicament was illustrated to the armies by the rain of recently lit arrows plummeting down at them.
Screams echoed throughout the valley as soldiers fell, arrows sticking into them like pins in dolls. They writhed on the ground until they were silenced by either the second wave of arrows, or the stampeding feet of their comrades in arms. By the third shower of arrows, more than half the soldiers of the Allied Generals had fallen. Braxas fell, crushing more soldiers under her. The horses of the Knights Templar reared, bucking their riders into the crowd.
At either end of the valley, huge companies of orcs surged forward. Caught between the massive armies, many more perished. One by one the torches in the night winked out, until the Allies were eclipsed in total darkness, fighting against an enemy they could barely see.
Drake had unfrozen when the snipers began to fall, sprinting for the south entrance. He'd known what was about to happen, that they were going to be cut off. Now he fought on the front lines, cutting down orc after orc. He heard them scream in agony, heard their war cries, yelling for someone, someone named... Valkrill. Long he fought, saw many fall. Jorhdawn was overwhelmed, Carr killed while leading a contingent of Vydar's men in a charge. He hadn't seen Katsuro since this morning, but he knew Mogrimm was still alive. Drake could see him now, commanding a pod of dwarves who were surrounded by goblins. They formed a wall of shields, and as the orcs threw themselves at them, the dwarves pushed them back, over and over. As Sgt. Alexander turned to meet the strike of yet more orcs, he heard a low bellow from Mogrimm's position. Drake smashed the orc in the face with his grapple-arm, turned, and leaped to what was now a massacre of the small warriors. Somehow, they had been overwhelmed. As he dived into the crowd, cutting and slashing as he went, he heard a voice boom across the valley.
"STOP." The voice carried with it power. Absolute power. Every warrior stopped moving, every orc paused in mid-strike. The voice spoke again. "YOUR RESISTANCE IS FUTILE, SOLDIERS. SURRENDER NOW, AND SOME OF YOU MAY SURVIVE. RESIST, AND I SHALL RELEASE THE ULTIMATE EVIL UPON YOU. NONE SHALL SURVIVE."
In the light of one of the last remaining torches, Drake saw a form rise above the ground. He saw the outline of a helm, a familiar helm. Jandar.
"Why should we surrender to you? Who are you!?!" Jandar's wings beat slowly.
The voice chuckled, a sound like rending metal in the darkness. "I AM YOUR DESTROYER, PUNY KYRIE. I AM THE ONE WHO WILL DECIDE YOU FATE THIS NIGHT. I, AM VALKRILL."
Jandar sank a meter closer to the ground. "We will never surrender! We will fight to the death! We will take your forces with us! To the last man standing!"
The voice spoke once more. "VERY WELL. YOU HAVE SEALED YOUR FATE. ALL OF MY FORCES, WITHDRAW. ALL OTHERS, STAY WHERE YOU ARE. PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR YOUR DYING DAY." The orcs began to retreat, slowly. Every other soldier in the valley didn't move a muscle. They were powerless to resist it's command.
Finally, when the last orc had left the valley, the soldiers unfroze. Stunned, they still barely moved. They stood, for what seemed like an age. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. A few of the wounded moaned in pain on the ground. Darkness took many of them. They faded into silence.
The ground shook. Drake started. It was like something out of a nightmare. Being frozen by that voice... it was terrifying.
Something coughed at his feet. Drake looked, and on the ground was a dwarf, wrapped in grey cloak drenched with blood. The soldier knelt. One look at the hole in the dwarf's chest, and Drake knew he was dying. The dwarf coughed again, and a warm liquid sprinkled Drake's cheek. Blood.
The ground shook again. Again. Again. A glow crept up the sides of the valley, illuminating the cliffs like blazing coals in a fire. A rumbling passed through the valley. The ground kept vibrating. Again. Again. Again.
Strange, thought Drake. Almost like... footfalls.
"Listen to me..."Drake nearly voided himself. He had thought the dwarf was beyond speech. He moved his head closer to the dwarf. The pounding grew slightly faster. Again. Again.
"Yes? What is it, friend?"
The dwarf coughed again, blood dripping from his mouth. "We are going to die... die..."
Drake shook his head. "No. We'll find a way out of this. We will defeat whatever that is. Whatever he sends against us, we will resist."
The dwarf shook his head. "He has... summoned..."
Drake nearly shook the dwarf in terror. "What! What is it? What has he summoned?" The pounding grew louder, the glow brighter. The rumbling passed through the valley again. No. Not a rumbling. A roar, distant, yet drawing ever closer.
The dwarf gripped Drake's hand, coughed and spoke for the last time. "Durin's... Bane..."
THE END
Ok, hope you enjoyed it, now here it is. The final judgement. The- y'know, never mind, just read it.
3rd place
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Dadnarg434. Excellent writing, very engaging. Amazing work.
2nd place
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Bassist of Doom. While I hate to kill your dreams of repeat winning, I love to read your stories.
1st place
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bumper15!!! Simply stunning, this writing blew me away. Definitely a keeper.
Honorable mentions
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Vader Fan 7, dragonfire9788, and ElvenLord. You all did great work, and I thouroughly enjoyed reading these, as I'm sure everybody else did.