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Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: Story Contest - Themes
Host: Mod Craddock
Score: 89
There are four seasons in the realm of Gilienor. They are Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. It’s funny how some of the names came about; just like someone listened to the sounds of the world, and said the first word which came to mind.
The bumbling bees and budding flowers surging through the valleys and hills of Asgarnia, flowing with such grace that you knew it was nature—nothing else is so, well, natural! The hues and colors which blinded your eyes, millions of shades of vermillion, but more of the scarlets and browns. Just one tree can carry thirty shades; blooming flowers signaling the awakening of the fruit’* duties and moss-covered bark showing the ripeness which follows the cold.
What must be the most influential factor in naming these seasons is the song which they create. Who could not think ‘Spring’ when they hear the chorusing birds, or the harpings of the grass and weeds, grown newly from the winter’s sable?
O the Winter! The cold, desolate, sability of it! But there’s more, something faintly audible. Is that a chorus of the fallen leaves, rustling through the abandoned forests? No, it can’t be—music is for the Spring, and Spring alone! How dare these things desecrate the songs of nature, of Her, the Mother of All, the Mother of Nature.
But it** so beautiful, isn’t it? There’s no sound like that of Winter, the breaking winds winding their aeolian paths through the frozen tundra of the world, consecrating the grounds of beauty which were Spring and Summer. Desecrating them with such wonderfully beautiful sounds that truly no masterpiece of Her’s could stand proudly against them, and their blinding beauty. There is no song like that of Winter, whence came the Sound of Song.

06-Apr-2008 01:13:49 - Last edited on 28-Nov-2008 16:04:54 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: Story Contest - Themes
Host: Mod Craddock
Score: 84
“I am led to wonder, as I am lost within this sea, wandering the quarantined halls of the dying, witnessing as my last breath of air escapes my open mouth, in a testing and symbolic demonstration of my life – from the depths of an unknown recess of darkness, into the land of life and hope, before its ultimate and final journey, where those foreign spheres of life, closed worlds within themselves, would flow upwards, joining the generalized assembly, conglomerated at the end of the journey – what might have been.
I see the portraits of life pass before my dying eyes, and realize that this, the array of life, the beautiful shafts of tangible light, might be my last sight of this equivocal journey.
After feeling the wispy tendrils of a current upon my face, and a scuttling upon my tied feet, I open my eyes only to see an animal, harbored in its shell, scuttling away from me, to its home, its family – not that I know what such terms mean – and am again left, for this final chapter of my life, wondering what might have occurred in the next.
Would I have ever discovered meaning to those words – home… family … – or might I have continued the course fate had set me, further estranging myself to society, isolating myself in uncontrolled depression?
As my death is ever impending, and I immolate myself for the betterment of all others, I look up to the sea*s surface, and give myself, as does the sea to the earth, impenitently meeting the end, passing the last instant of life to which I so selfishly cling, witnessing my breath – my life – float upwards, ever nearer to the heavens.”
“AERIS! You get out of that fountain now!*
*B-but—“
“I SAID NOW!*
*Yes mother…”

06-Apr-2008 01:13:50 - Last edited on 28-Nov-2008 16:05:52 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: Story Contest - Themes
Host: Mod Craddock
Score: 93
As the woman stood fierce and passive, as unmoving as a granite boulder, and as powerful as the forces which made it, there came an aura of unprecedented beauty and awe which enveloped all the surrounding lands, diffusing into the cold land swiftly and subtly.
The ambience spread throughout the detritus, overwhelming what little life remained, and plunging each being into its own seizure of euphoria, binding each sentient into a campaign to meet this woman capable of exuding such resplendence.
In waves, the creatures converged upon the woman, and in waves they recoiled from her odiferous being. Slowly the mob subsided, absconding their objective, replacing it with one goal: to escape this woman’s presence. A young group of people did not take heed, and persisted in their journey to the woman. Nearing her, they slowed, feasting their eyes and probosces upon her repulsive beauty.
Slowly they circled her, much as a roc, nearing at every turn. She was beautiful, magnificent. They were not. And as had their fathers before them, the wraiths, one by one, fell upon the invidious girl with the rage of jealousy, slaughtering the execrable memory of what life had been, what it had meant to exist.

06-Apr-2008 01:15:44 - Last edited on 28-Nov-2008 16:09:06 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: Story Contest - Themes
Host: Mod Craddock
Score: 88
It covers nearly one half of Gilienor, spanning from every direction, and expanding every moment of every day. It is not an empire, nor will it ever be, save that of destruction, ruin, and decay.
It has claimed the lives of millions, and yet its appetite is not satiated, its hunger not quenched. It is not a being, nor will it ever be, save that of decimation, spoliation, and dismay.
It obeys no law, no rule, no mandate, repudiating attempts of civilization. It is not a place, nor will it ever be, save that of desolation, troglodytes, and dread.
It has no shape; no outline; no definition. It is not existent, nor will it ever be, save that of despair, mortality, and death.
It is no thing; no form; no entity. It is not named, nor will it ever be, save that of The Wilderness.

06-Apr-2008 01:15:45 - Last edited on 28-Nov-2008 16:09:24 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: Story Contest - Themes
Host: Mod Craddock
Score: 88
*There is not one of you who does not wish for the downfall of that accursed evil, that execrable deity, Morisane!” issued an old man, to a rather obeisant crowd. The man gazed over a pair of rather aged spectacles, before moving on. “Tonight, we shall see an end to the rein of such a malfeasance; we shall we cessation to the empire of vileness, and disgust. Tonight, my fellows, my friends, my comrades, we shall see to it that the King of Economic Destruction shall rule no more—in this land, or in any land. We shall rid all of the world, all of the universe, all of existence of his heinousness.
“You, my army, shall attack the prestige and castes which labels Morisane’s economy; you shall institute a halcyon time upon Varrock, Asgarnia, and Gilienor as a whole. You, my citizens, shall see a right no person has ever seen before: you shall see your own freedom,” he stated, again looking upon the army he had assembled, the army who had marched from Draynor, to follow him. To the edge of the abyss, they would travel further.
“No longer shall you be tethered by the harness and bonds of classes, of bureaucracy, of destitution. Every person among you shall know the meaning of true happiness. Together, you shall bring about a new age to Gilienor. You shall bring equality, freedom, and prosperity!”
Taking off his blue hat, he finished: “Tonight, we march upon the Grand Exchange!”

06-Apr-2008 01:15:46 - Last edited on 28-Nov-2008 16:09:43 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: Story Contest -- Themes
Host: Mod Craddock
Score: 93
“There stood before an exceptionally extravagant man, dressed in the camisia of royalty, deep hued, violaceous robes, and with the exorbitantly regal aigrette, an entity of indefinite beauty. Among the most powerful of people in the world, the lavishly dressed King had no choice but to obey the peremptory stare of this wondrous being; a man forced to admit and honour an entity greater than him.
“But alas, a relief it is, to find, after countless decades of ruling, someone able to command you, someone else able to filter through the refuse which is you kingdom, and go about fixing it. And when, at last, King Roald set his eyes upon such a deity, so manifest of such capabilities, of such generosity, as this being before him. His promise, nay, his command, was quite simple. It was quite easy. It was quite heinous.
“He never said his name, nor did he ever make any promises, save one. But it was a secret meeting, secluded even from the gods, and indeed even from Roald’s own memory, for a time. Three days passed, and not a thought of the encounter brushed the periphery of Roald’s conscious, before, at last, he realized his grave mistake.
“But the gold was so beautiful, the power and poise now accompanying the role of King so exceptionally pulchritudinous, that the mistake went unnoticed for many a year yet. The King sponsored three children, the youngest reaching twenty-three years, before at last his élan vital won over the spotlight, spreading it to the horrific disaster now fast approaching.
“But alas, the deal was made fast and binding, and inexorable it stayed, not yielding to the multifarious begging* of the King. The King would die—family held fast in bonds to watch.
“Do you see? The King is ill.”

06-Apr-2008 01:15:47 - Last edited on 11-Dec-2008 21:49:35 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: The 100 Word Story Contest pt 2
Host: Mod Tron
Score: 92
Though the sun had long since set, and the moon hid behind the clouds, the night was luminous. With the blankets of snow which covered the surrounding lands, the smallest light was magnified to a radiant glow.
The children relished this first snow, most having already forgotten the previous winter’s adventures. Powdery missiles sailed throughout the air, occasionally hitting their targets, as children made snow angels and igloos, and admired the overall purity of the scene.
There was, though, one child who did not participate in the gaiety. Supine, blood staining the snow around him, he waited there, for either death or discovery.

06-Apr-2008 01:17:33 - Last edited on 10-Feb-2009 19:38:38 by Yrolg

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