RuneScape Forum Archive | Leb's Ensemble of Short Shorts

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

This was my entry to round two of Mitch's "Survivor Two" contest. The theme was to answer a philisophical question in your story, and I approached it from the standpoint of the five senses. I won't reveal too much more, as you can probably work it out for yourself. While written in prose, the structure and language is quite verse-like, and it has its similarities to a poem. This entry achieved me first place in the round.
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-A Calm Tempest-

Imagine something. Anything. A prospect so incredible that it couldn’t possibly be true. Except it is. But it’s beyond that: you live it, and breathe it, and nurture it. It’s the reason you’re alive. It’s the reason you’re dead.
How can you truly know which one you fulfil?
A collision of life and death – the time before and the time after. It means nothing to you. All at the same time, you display a plethora of emotions. The happy and sad, the trust and contempt, the anger and submission. The anguish, and depression, and remorse, and guilt, and jealousy.
There is only one thing you feel. Pain.
The overloading flavour of a glowing mango, tingling on your tongue as you take chunks out of its juicy flesh. The fruit overloads your system and a shudder echoes through your body. A contrasting aftertaste presents itself to you in the form of a worm. The sweet and sour, the sharp and bland, the spicy and dull. The rancid, and repulsive, and lurid, and putrid, and fetid.
There is only one thing you can taste. Decay.
A kaleidoscope of colours, mutating and evolving as they crash: blood, and sweat, and tears. They mix and fuse again; an endless stream of new tones and hues. The red and green, the blue and orange, the yellow and purple. The charcoal, and ebony, and grey, and onyx, and obsidian.

23-Jun-2011 12:46:18 - Last edited on 24-Mar-2012 12:05:11 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

There is only one thing you see. Black.
An uncovered grave, filled with the corpses of thousands of men. A swarm of flies seems to coerce the stench from the tainted flesh, concentrating the aroma into a tangible force. The redolence of a single flower, perched on a mound, fails to cut through the cloud. The malodorous and unsavoury, the feeble and strong, the egregious and pleasing. The mephitic, and vile, and stale, and rank, and polluted.
There is only one thing you can smell. Rot.
The sound of chirping birds, characterised by the undertone of cicadas buzzing. In amongst it all, the whispering of a gentle breeze slips through leaves on a tree, like water through diverging fingers. The laughing and crying, the snapping and murmuring, the bawling and whimpering. The barking, and howling, and screaming, and shrieking, and shouting.
There is only one thing you hear. Silence.

23-Jun-2011 12:46:19 - Last edited on 24-Mar-2012 12:04:20 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

This was my entry to the second round of the Halloween Contest. The challenge this time was that the story had to include a mummy, a vampire, and a witch somehow, and all of the writing is my own work in this round. There's nothing innovative about this, but I hope you enjoy the read. This entry achieved me first place with a voting favour of 50%.
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-Nightmare at Draynor Manor-

The three children stared up the winding path, their eyes fixated on the purple mansion ahead. The building seemed darker than the night itself, which was strange due to weather; purple fists applauded the trio, sending platinum knives down to the ground with every vehement clap. They would do anything in pursuit of candy, even if it meant confronting the foreboding house.
“Come on,” the red-haired child stated to his friends, a smudge of cherry beginning to taint his white canvas. “You’re either with me or against me.”
The two silent children remained just that, and shot each other a dubious look.
“Well?” he added, turning his body as if he were about to start walking.
“Fine, Wars,” grunted the child closest to him. He dithered, but before anyone had the chance to move, he garnished his word with, “But let’s make this quick.”
Wars smiled. “Anything you want to add to that, Cuar?”
The third child, who wore faded green cotton, appeared startled at the mention of his name. “Yes,” he ejected quickly before the question had sunk in. “I mean, no.”
There was anticipation of further verbal exchange, a clash from the heavens filling the emptiness.
“Let’s just go home, Dehin,” Cuar spoke again, tugging at the white material that the child in the middle wore. His attempt was futile, and he quickly found his arm by his side again, shrugged off by his target.
“Let’s go,” Cuan commanded. Dehin followed his lead through the battered gate of the manor.

23-Jun-2011 12:46:21 - Last edited on 07-Dec-2011 13:14:49 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

“Wait, think about...” Cuar tried to reason, but trailed off into a panicked squeal. He ran after his two friends.
They made their way up the cobblestone path, dodging stray tree roots and cracks that offered ideal tripping places. There was a tinge of decay in the air, aided with the growth of several types of fungi that blanketed the rotten landscape.
Wars was the first to speak again, after they ascended the three oblique stairs, and were examining the ornately carved door.
“No turning back now. Who’s knocking?”
Before he could completely finish his sentence, the doors swung open themselves, revealing an entirely black corridor. It was at that time that the sky also decided to open, and a torrent of water flooded the area.
Dehin grunted before grabbing his two comrades. “Quick, get inside.”
A sudden silence deafened the children, the door lurching back into position with a final bang. They could see nothing. A timpani began to beat in rhythm, echoing in each of their skulls – if you had asked them, they’d say the sound resonated throughout the whole manor.
Then it appeared.
It was a type of movement that any average person would ignore at first. A figment of their imagination. But then it happened again, this time closer. And then again. Soon, they could feel the presence of a creature right in front of their faces. Breath on a neck.
Cuar licked his lips before resuming his irregular panting.
“Wars? Dehin?”
The growl of a monster.
“Are you there?”
He began flailing his arms about, twisting and contorting his neck to try and see them. They had disappeared. Stillness ensued.
In the silent moments of panic, Cuar tried to work through possibilities of what might’ve happened. They were playing a trick on him – they must be. He managed a wry smile. Then why did he feel like he was hanging upside down? Why couldn’t he move?
What was that dripping noise in the background?

23-Jun-2011 12:46:22 - Last edited on 16-Oct-2011 05:34:19 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

A crimson glow lit up the corridor, emitted by two golf ball-like lights on the ceiling.
Glancing to his left, Cuar saw his two friends hanging from the roof. They were oozing thick globules of blood that cascaded down their faces, puddling on the floor in a perpetual stain. He tried to scream, but he found himself gagged, and he squirmed and wriggled instead. Then it occurred to him.
They weren’t lights. They were eyes.
He saw someone walking towards him before he lost consciousness. A flash of red in his black vision.
Silence.
* * *
“There’s been another attack.”
The colloquial manner of the man’s speech indicated that this was dealt with frequently.
“Have you retrieved the body?”
“The bodies,” the knight emphasised, and paused slightly. “Yes.*
*Excellent. I trust they’re in position? I shall make my way there now.*
Sir Tiffy Cashien removed himself from the park bench, following a similar path to the knight that had just bowed to him. Though he appeared to be well into his senior years, he contradicted the stereotype and made haste with his walk. He ascended a staircase.
“Tiffy,” a slender woman exclaimed, offering a hand to the man. She was waiting outside a wooden door that pulsed with a purple shield, her green robes fluttering in the breeze that the magic exhibited.
“It’s always a pleasure, Aggie,” the man replied, turning to face the woman and shaking her extended hand. “Shall we go in?”
The woman smiled and waved her free arm. The charm on the door vanished and it clicked open, allowing them both entrance. The floorboards creaked under their step, which in turn revealed a plain room with three tables. There were no windows, and the only glow came from a small skylight carved into the ceiling.
“My, my,” Aggie muttered, pausing to stare at the corpses of three boys. They were covered in blood, and their eyes were hanging out of their heads.

23-Jun-2011 12:46:23 - Last edited on 16-Oct-2011 08:06:42 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Sir Tiffy came to stand next to her, closing the door with a gentle push. He gestured to a scrying pool at the far end of the room, a blue liquid lying stagnant in it, and dropped an eyebrow when the woman did*’t acknowledge him.
“My dear, you’ve seen this type of thing before. Let’s make haste.”
“Yes. I’ll just get on with it, shall I?” She spoke too quickly.
The woman turned to face the pool, her robes oscillating behind her as she glided across the floor. Tiffy Cashien hobbled behind her. A sigh escaped his lips, but it wasn’t audible to her.
She wiggled her fingers slightly and uttered something under her breath, dropping a lock of red hair from the first child into the puddle. A scene came to life.
He was running through an endless hallway, turning his head over his shoulder occasionally to see the glint of lucid fangs advancing on him. The chatters of bats overcame the sound of his feet pounding on the floor, and sweat dripped from his face, lost in the black void that surrounded him. He did*’t know where he was going, but he had to get away from the monster.
Was he going to die?
He glanced behind him again, and stopped running when he could no longer see the creature. Hands on knees, he tried to reclaim his breath, as rasping pants escaped from clenched teeth. Prepared to run again, he looked up to meet the penetrative glare of a vampire, which lurched forwards in an explosive attack. Its fangs were far sharper than its stare.
The scrying pool muddied into a fierce black for a few seconds, before returning to its original hue. Sir Tiffy glanced at the woman and nodded slightly. He withdrew a lock of hair, the same colour as the child’s in the middle, and handed it to her. The ritual began again, and the liquid morphed into another scene.

23-Jun-2011 12:46:25 - Last edited on 16-Oct-2011 05:35:00 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The corridor glowed with golden phosphorescence, a kingly colour that permeated the manor. A single bandage, a slightly offset white, directed the child into a room at his right side. Picking the material up off the floor, he began to follow it throughout the labyrinth of rooms. He stopped to examine the ancient drawings, depicting godly rituals and creatures of the underworld, which were scratched into the walls around him at regular intervals. It was apparent that he was now underground.
The light intensified as he continued to follow the bandage, and a golden chamber appeared at the end of the tunnel. Though he seemed oblivious to his whereabouts, he noticed the cavity and broke into a sprint towards it, dragging the material behind him. A booming voice filled the passage.
“You dare venture here?”
The ground started to shake, and the rumbling intensified until the ceiling caved in behind him, blocking any exit that once existed. He dived forward to avoid the rockslide, shielding his eyes from the dust that billowed into the room. As the air cleared, he clambered to his feet to meet the gaze of a figure wrapped in bandages. An archaic scream erupted from it, displaying brown stumps that protruded from dilapidated gums. It showered him in acid saliva.
It lunged towards him, tearing his face apart and causing a jet of blood to bury the purity of the chamber.
The image eclipsed again, turning the water into a deep ebony before resuming the azure tinge. The woman looked at Sir Tiffy as he fumbled for something. While she waited, she allowed her gaze to wander over to the third child. His cotton tunic was a similar colour to her robe. She smiled as she admired herself in the extravagant attire, before a lock of hair was thrust into her hand. Turning her attention back to the pool, it came to life again.

23-Jun-2011 12:46:26 - Last edited on 16-Oct-2011 05:35:18 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The child was hanging upside down in an almost pitch-black room, his face obscured as he looked on at a pair of malevolent eyes. They examined him in a primal manner, sizing him up as if he were a meal. He squirmed in a panicked frenzy.
There was a period of silence that was shattered by a rustling sound, as if someone were unwrapping something. The creature was focusing on something below it. Then it stepped forward into a beam of moonlight in front of the child, raising an arm clothed with a green robe. It held out a candy and forced it into the boy’s mouth.
“Here you go, sweety.”
It giggled before plunging its teeth into the flesh of the child.
The scrying pool muddied for a final time, and the woman turned to Sir Tiffy, revealing two rows of dagger-like teeth.
“Oh my...” Tiffy began.
“What? You couldn’t work it out?” she interrupted, expelling a blast of air as if mocking him.
“Now I feast again.”
The witch tackled Sir Tiffy to the ground, submerging her fangs deep into the flesh of his neck.

23-Jun-2011 12:50:37 - Last edited on 16-Oct-2011 08:17:17 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

This was my entry to the third round of the Halloween contest. The challenge was to create an epitaph, and obviously had to be RuneScape-related. There is a twist that I'm quite proud of in this. I also go off into some verse. Nevertheless, enjoy this short piece.
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-Epitaph-

Here lies Ramarno, blacksmith of the Sacred Forge and lover of redberry pie.
Ramarno was felled in the Battle of Camdozaal, struck down by his brother, Thurgo. He shall be remembered as the last of the Imcando Dwarves. Let jealousy claim not another in vain.
Please read the following aloud to Ramarno in honour of his blindness:
Zombies marching blistered earth,
Electric knives upon them.
Malice reigns across the lands
On bloods of mother’s stem.
Up in meadows green awakes
Ramarno, sleeps eternal.
Ending time of birth, the morn,
Gives Death an empty journal.
All ends; he lays down his knife:
Life from death, and death to life.
Perpetual torture comes to those who condemn my powers, and my bidding they shall do until my release from this prison. I shall walk once more.
I have always found that necromancy works best in acrostic poems.

23-Jun-2011 12:50:38 - Last edited on 07-Dec-2011 13:15:06 by Borna Coric

Borna Coric

Posts: 3,785 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

This was my entry to the third round of Mitch's Survivor contest. Due to the fact that I won the second round, I was able to pick my partner in this challenge, which is a joint story effort. It had to be based on RuneScape lore. I ended up picking Mors Et Vita (check out his thread here: 49-50-288-63175040) and we decided to write on "Conversations Between Heaven and Hell" from a RuneScape perspective. Thanks Mors.
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-Conversations Between Heaven and Hell-

The room was purposefully left bland. Everything came in white whenever possible; what little light trespassed the boundaries of the open window was overshadowed. The air was thick with a crisp mint purity. Then the woman spoke.
“What is this lunacy? Where am I?”
Her hair, longer than most women’s, seemed to billow outward as she spoke, akin to the inhalation and exhalation of an exhausted animal.
“All shall be revealed.” The man, who sat across the table from her, grinned. She couldn’t help but compare him to a merchant. “Now, stare into the pool. Tell me what you see.*
The woman flared again, grabbing the hand of a man who set next to her and pulling it upward. As they made their way toward the door, the merchant-like man chuckled slightly and snapped his fingers; the couple found themselves immediately back on the ivory lounge.
*I said,” he paused slightly as his tone hardened, “to look into the pool.”
He placed a bowl on the coffee table that separated them, filling the air with the sound of marble scraping against oak as he pushed it toward them. The purple liquid pulsated as it swished around. It glowed phosphorescently.

23-Jun-2011 12:50:39 - Last edited on 07-Dec-2011 13:15:23 by Borna Coric

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