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Nagash: Vampire Counts
An Elder's Tale
”Come sit 'ere”, said the elder human named Heinrich to his five year old grandson Erbert, “I wanna tell ye a story.” He was sitting in his armchair in front of the stove.
“Aboot what, grandpa'?”
“Aboot un day when I traveled. Almost killed, were I.”
“Whoi?” Erbert's eyes glimmered with adoration. “Whoi was ye almost died?”
“We've bin farmers since many years in de past, but in de age of twentiefoor I traveled”
“What happent then?”
And as soon as Elder Heinrich began to tell his story, Erbert was part of it. In his mind, the grandson trod on a road dividing the great Grim Wood, seeing exactly what his grandfather could see that day. Fantasies... Erbert was twenty four years old now, clothed in simple leather clothing just like his grandfather in the story. The Sylvanian forest was quiet this day. As he walked on the road, he could hear the clashing of two blades. It was the sound of steel-to-steel, a scary sound for a farmer not wearing any weapons or armour. Erbert went closer to the sound to see where it came from, just to see two combatants fighting against each other. Quick as a flash, he hid behind a stone in hope that no one could see him.
“Tell me”, the taller of the two said, “what do you seek in Sylvania?” The warrior wore a red armour ornamented with small scaled dragon wings.
“I won't answer you”, said the dwarf in response, “blood drinker. My time is short, and you're in my way.” His armour incinerated the very ground beneath him as he charged towards the vampire. The tall warrior easily blocked the blow from the axe with his own blade.
“All I want to know is... Why should I let you through?” The dwarf roared in anger.
“May Hashut consume your sole!”
Erbert, frightened by the thought that the two warriors would find him if he stayed too long, tried to sneak away. When he finally thought he had made it, someone whispered in his left ear.
“So, where are you going?”
“Um headin' uffrom 'ere!” Erbert screamed in fear as he turned around to see a young human woman standing in front of him. She wore a dress and was very beautiful.
“I don't think so”, she said as she turned Erbert's head towards the place from where he tried to sneak away. “Count Felix would gladly have someone in addition to me that could witness to his success against this bearded man.”
“Uh, so yu're wiv him then, ey?”
“I am Countess Ivé, indeed.”
Erbert, accompanied by the Countess, returned to where he once hid from sight. They sat down on the stone, unafraid of any of the two combatants that still fought in the forest glade. Weapons clashing against each others, singing sound of metal-to-metal in the forest surrounding them. Twenty minutes later, the Count suddenly screamed in pain. One of the dwarf's blows had actually hit him. Count Felix was burned from inside of his armour! The dwarf gave out a laugh.
“Never make fun of a dwarf's size”, he boasted. His axe was burning. “And now, tell me where I can find the Dwarf High King.” The vampire didn't talk. He screamed in pain. The dwarf turned around to see the small audience which made a smile occur on his lips.
The Countess released the silver buckles on her dress.
“What ye doin'?!?” Erbert shouted, believing that she would solve the problem by stripping in front of the dwarf. Soon he realized that she had a short blade hidden behind her dress belt.
“Run”, she said to Erbert, just before she leaped towards the dwarf. She was going to fight.
“Confoosed were I”, Elder Heinrich said. “I run all de way to de seffest village.”
“Died ye?” asked Erbert who by this time had returned from his fantasies to the real world.
“Nah, I run. Dere was no un dere wiv me. I were alone.”
“How did ye slip dat noight?”
“Well...” Elder Heinrich sighed. He leaned backwards on his armchair made from bear pelt. “I culdn't.' He stared into the fire of the open stove.
'I've wundert if we eva'll liv dis place. Vampyres, dia' wulves, walkin' dead... Ye name it! I geef ye un tip, grandson. Liv Sylvania as soon as ye can! Dis is nut a place te live! Fli, as I did dat day, or ye'll neva' be outa 'ere!”
Palos: Chaos Dwarfs- Voting ending in 98 hours“By the thirteen beards of blasphemous Pazzazu. Cur.” Hollow echos, ghosts of tomorrow. Abinadai stroked smooth cold, clay. A bas-relief of a human face proudly glaring from the lid of a great pot. Black pillared hallway far beneath blistered obsidian plains. This priest of Sargon had snuck beneath the Ziggurat of Heaven’s-Binding, scheming for the highest rank of the Bulls Priesthood. The ziggurat had been anchored in granite, as deep as tall, some days tangled in cloud. Its lower chambers had opened like the hungry mouth of the giant Humbaba, and this ancient chamber had been discovered, sealed than with mortar and kept as a reminder why the people of Sargon must always watch.Sun Wraiths & Shadows
Abinadai shook excitedly, scaled hands stained by soot and blistered by fire reverently brought forth scraps of paper he’d coveted away and where he’d carefully recorded the words of his temples cuneiform tablets. He had discovered a Sun Wraith and hoped to lay its body bare and hammer out its heart. Eating such a gem would grant strength the likes of which his brethren couldn’t rival. He ran a forked tongue over cracked lips.
“Send the Tall Hats a message in blood, Our Emperors cannons,”
Abinadai snarled, spat, the twisted points of his beard quivering. He turned the human propaganda poster over, to where his own blood had served as ink, and re-read his transcription.
“Their ways are not gods. It’s a weak perversion, a science exploring roads that lead to damnation. Ours is a worship of transcendence, prayers that lift us into the glorious abyss of heaven. Two eternities, one base, un-thinking as the stones of our towers, the other….”
“To work,” He whispered. Thoughts of spying gods made him proclaim. “I steal. Lie. Murder, for chaos. Chaos I came from and to chaos shall return.”
Hefting the pick that had helped him break into this lost vault he began to pry open the giant jar. Sweetness swam into his nostrils. He hissed and vertigo overtook him and than, pale, naked flesh, with hair so black it was the space between stars. Plunging his hands into the honey which had preserved the corpse he seized it beneath the arms and pulled.
Abinadai had drawn a six-pointed star with charcoal, around which, with ground bone and silver dust he’d made a circle and inscribed with rust and mercury a ritual of binding taught to his people by Ashur. He had prayed to Pazzazu and Taurus, kissed his iron hammer, nestled chisel to flesh and waited. The beast would awake for it was undead. Those that had buried the vampire had not known its nature, but only hours after it had been plunged into sweet nectar, Abinadais lost kin had worked runic sun signs into the ceiling and floor beneath the pitch sealed-jar, keeping the secret of the monster from the human king they had served as architects of this catacomb. Abinadai had cut away the runes, dust and sweat leaving white streaks beneath haunted eyes.Wind flying through the spider branches of a cedar forest, over moss and glittering dew that hides black soil and ancient roots. Drumming footsteps pound faster, furious pistons whose sound is suddenly eclipsed by its own speed.
“Endless hallways I’ve been walking that always lead me back to dreams that always lead me back to endless hallways whose pillars are always made of crumbling dust and which hold up black sands and forest meant for Moloch. Here I met my master. A blood debt made mine which I can make yours. I think my dream is over. I am running now, to where I’ll wake. So fast I’m slow.
Hands shot around Abinadais neck, he spat, swung the hammer and half nailed the chisel into flesh that broke like brittle paper, yet held as though steel. The vampire roared, a sound to swallow the dwarf who stamped and kicked, beard now sticky with froth and foam.
“You want me?” Abinadai was hurled face-first into the wall, he rolled over, felt within his robes of red leather and fur for a pentagram of Ashur. “In my dream prison I heard you.” The vampires black eyes ran silver, flashing as it walked between shadow and light. “But you are not of those that slew me, nor the wraiths that haunted my dreams with twin suns and mithril hammers. The mark of ill-logic is upon your brow.”
“I.” Abinadai staggered upright, held forth his icon. “Chaos’s child. First and true to this world. You, false. You shall be my feast.”
A sound like shredding paper, snapping twigs. The vampire laughed.
“Yes?” It leapt. Legs tucked tight, arms stretched wide, sinews pulled and veins shimmered. “I.” They collided, tumbled back, forward, slid through the symbols Abinadai had wrought turning them into a translucent smear. Abinadai heaved, arms that had worked at forge and sacrifice in equal measure bent the vampire back, its head banging the floor, black oozed like stains of ink and still the vampire snarled. “I am a hunter.”
Abinadai rapped his hammer on the chisel that hung from the vampires chest. Soft clinks, metal on glass. Dark lines radiating from where iron pierced leathery flesh. The vampires knees were pressed beside its head. Suddenly its legs locked around the dwarfs throat and it spun, chest to the floor now, Abinadais head bent back between its legs and his hammer flew down the hall into the dark, his neck arched, adams apple throbbing, suddenly gushing. Abinadai screamed. Red flecks splatterd the vampires face. Abinadai threw it to the floor again, smashed his fists against the chisel. Flesh ripped from his palms, the vampire gripped the metal, dark and shining, holding it still. Abinadai beat his fists again, came to one knee stomping, pounded again with wrecked hands. Bone broken, tendons torn. The vampire screamed and kicked.
“You take me dwarf but I’ll live on in you, my endless dreams shall continue in the dead halls of you mind.”
Last edited by Tashin; April 25th, 2010 at 19:28.
Palos: What The HeCK hApPenED wITh your typing, did your computer blow up? Stick to 1 size man, this is overkill. The vampire screamed and kicked, and so his words are written in mini size.
your using alot of fancy words, it gives alot of extra detail (good) and it makes the tekst harder to get through (bad)
Thats really something you did really well. the description of both the chaos dwarf and his items and also of the undead creature he fights. its alive i can almost feel the undead skin/hands trying to choke me atm, nice work. Could be the alcohol, but i needed some time to translate te tekst. Nice story, ace on the detailed descriptions
by gods that story was cool, seems so short, but you made it simple and i cant stop reading start to end.
funniest part was the description of the countess.
"She wore a dress and was very beautiful."
wehehe ok.. a dress..
Other than that, one of my favorites so far, mostly because of its simplicity and the way the story is built up
Palos 3,5 / 5
Nagash 4,5 / 5
Warchief Diggah o da Bloodmoon Squiggahs
I'd have to echo Digger's sentiments regarding the story being a bit... simplistic, at times. I do like the way you have the grandfather telling the story, although I cannot for the life of me work out his accent! Okay, so I can if I make a bit of effort, but... Anyway, while the Grandfather and Grandson add a bit of emotion to the story, the passage regarding the Grandfather's travels really seems to lack any. I would have thought Countess Ive would have been a little miffed after watching Felix get barbecued by a stuntie...
Also, “May Hashut consume your sole!” You did mean soul, didn't you?
Starts off a little awkward, or maybe that's just me trying to get my hear around things at the beginning. Now that I re-read it it all seems to make sense.
You capture things very well, and your story seems to flow quite smoothly. I really don't know what else I can say about your entry; the formatting issue is largely irrelevant for me as it's one line and most likely not your doing anyhow...
Nagash - 3.5/5
Palos - 4/5
This story is so much better than your last entry! I really liked the way that it was framed, with the child reliving the scene through his grandfather's eyes as though he were there. It still seems to have been an experiment on your part, but one well worth making. Given a little improvement on bringing it full circle would have been good- perhaps if the boy had seemingly woken from a daydream from having been so enwrapped in the story.
I have 2 problems with your story, and they are minor.
Firstly, I agree with Deadstar that the "yokel" accent makes parts of the story difficult to understand. You aren't alone in this however, and I think that I'll be making a post similar to my "proper way to do quotes" post in the main log. At any rate, just keep in mind that if it doesn't add much to the story, you don't particularly need it.
Secondly- the characters could use a little development. I'm not sure what was eating up all your words, but 1000 should feel constricting. Your stories come across as short, all the time for some reason. It's unfortunate therefore that they paired you against Palos.
Your story was spectacular. I actually had to check that it was only 1000words. Your mastery of language and your ability to embellish a very concise story, is excellent. Furthermore, you conveyed the nature of Chaos Dwarves quite readily.
Others were a little confused by the style, but I was able to follow it easily enough. Yes, it's a bit difficult since your character does monologue a bit, and rather insanely at that, but I liked it. I'm a fan of Gothic, so I'm a sucker for imagery, and you've done a very good job with that.
You are the one writer within this competition who I will admit to having learned something from. You find a quick and easy story to relate (Dwarf sneaks into a tomb and ****kicks a vampire) and then expand upon it with your 1000 words. I think that I, on the other hand, try to achieve too much in my stories, and expansion suffers as a result. Biting off more than I can chew with 1000 words, so to speak. I would be curious to see what you can do with a few more words, as I've met people who can't hop the gap from writing short-story style, to writing novels, but I am nonetheless content to call you a master of this 1000 word cap.
I didn't intend to do this, but I fear I'm going to have to give you a perfect score. I've meant to left all of the other contestants with less than a 5, simply as a symbol that there is room to improve, but I can't find fault with your story, or anything which should be improved.
To my good friend Nagash: 4/5
To Palos, who has certainly earned it: 5/5
Uh...one question. How are the vampires out in the day? Unless there's something I'm missing, I thought vampires could only come out at night. If it was supposed to be night, then why was the grandfather traveling in darkness?
All in all, despite being very well framed and written, Nagash's story wasn't fleshed out as well as it possibly could've been. Palos' story was a little tough to read at times, but his character was very well fleshed out, and the fight was an interesting one. You don't see a vampire getting their hands crushed very often.
I have to narrowly give this one to Palos, but only by a hair.
"Any job worth doing, is worth doing with a powerklaw."
In Nagash's defense, GW fluff typically permits Vampires to travel during the daylight hours. They make only passing comments that Vampires are uncomfortable in sunlight, and they mention in the previous edition that sunlight sears Aborash's skin. The vampires typically summon storm-clouds or vast swarms of bats to dim the sunlight to tolerable levels. Nagash never says the sun was shining in a radiant blue sky, haha.
But it is true that perhaps it should have been adressed, and it is of little consequence to the rest of the story.
Nagash (4/5): My only complaint was that the dialogue between the Vampire and the Dwarf was a little hard to follow, but I loved the accent. I also wrote an accent (which people didn't like) and a storyteller format, so high five!
Palos (5/5): Excellent! I like this story. It was very artistic and had really good imagery. And now I know a little bit more about chaos dwarves!
I must admit Nagash, your accent is reminiscent of a brummy rastafarian. It is quite an odd mental image, I assure you
The story was quite well written, almost unexpected as a cautionary tale, the absorbtion of the grandfathers tale as an imaginary wakening is quite sweet and clearly defined, have a 4.5/5
Palos did a good job conveying Chaos Dwarves, but the literary style is perhaps simply not my taste. The story is artistic, detailed, by all means written quite well, yet the tale itself feels a little disjointed and bewildering, a side affect, perhaps, of the word limit and encapsulating so much action, I'm going to give your story a 4/5
Fantasy: Wood Elves, Dark Elves, Beastmen and Tomb Kings.
LotR: Misty Mountains and Rohan