The Egotistical Priest
An irreverent and opinionated discussion of the many classes
in the World of Warcraft gaming universe.
Contest!
by Vonya
Whee!
Everybody loves contests, right? Right.
I am hosting TWO (count ‘em, TWO) contests. Both contests will end on July 1. That means you’ve got almost two whole months to submit your entries.
July 1.
Don’t forget.
So, what are the contests?
Rules
I’m putting the rules up first because nobody reads them if I put them on the bottom.
Ownership
You have to be the one who wrote the story. Seems a little silly to have a rule for it, but I don’t want anyone posting an excerpt from a WoW novel or anything like that. Use your own work.
Entry Submission
You must either paste your entry into a comment -OR- supply a link to your entry in the comments. I recommend pasting the link, because it’s a great way to generate traffic to your blog. Feel free to include a teaser in the comments to encourage more people to go read your entry.
Do NOT email me entries. Do NOT comment your entries on other blog posts here – I can’t possibly keep track of them all if they’re scattered throughout random posts.
I do this for my own sanity – when the time comes to judge this puppy, I want to scroll through the comments on THIS blog post and read them all. I don’t want to remember that I was sent eleven emails, or that some of them were entered on a blog post written two months from now.
Please. I beg you. Entries or links to entries go HERE.
I will disqualify any entry which does not appear in these comments. I will do it with love. Loving disqualification.
Number of Entries
Enter either or both contests as many times as you like.
Length
- Contest 1 – no more than 140 characters (including spaces).
- Contest 2 – No more than 1,500 words.
Grammar and Punctuation
Not graded, although it may impact the way I view the piece. I do not intend for this to be a writing skill contest – those for whom English is a second language, and those who misspell, forget punctuation, and can’t quite wrangle an apostrophe are encouraged to enter. Again, I will not grade directly on grammar, but it CAN have an impact if you send me something that doesn’t even have spaces in it. I’m forgiving, but I’m still human.
Content
Both contests are “writing” contests. I put that in doublequotes because you don’t have to be a professional writer to win, you just have to move me in some way. Make me smile, make me laugh, make me go “D’awwwww”, make me cry – whatever emotion you want to evoke in your reader.
The stories/fiction/writing need to be about ANIMALS IN WARCRAFT.
That’s all caps because it’s important. The animal can be a beast encountered in the game, or a hunter’s pet, a critter, or even a non-combat pet.
This is a WoW blog, so it has to be warcraft-related.
Update : Moving answers to questions upward :
- The animal does NOT have to be the main character in the story.
- Druid forms and dragons count as animals.
Judging
I and a hand-selected group of friends will vote on the winners. I get two votes, because I said so. Everyone else will only get one. I may even let Hanners have a vote, unless she decides to enter.
I promise only that the judging will be utterly arbitrary and based on personal preference rather than quantifiable, measurable things.
It will not be based on skill or length. It will only be based on which stories had the biggest IMPACT on us as readers. Which stories do we go back to? Which ones do we read over and over again? Which ones make us smile every time we read them? Which ones do we link to our friends so they can read them as well?
Those are the ones that are going to win.
Contest 1
World of Twittercraft. For those of you living in caves, Twitter is a messaging platform, a bit like a blog, only with a 140 character limit.
You do NOT have to have a Twitter account in order to enter this contest. I recommend using the Twitter client so that you can be 100% certain that you’re within the 140 character limit before you post your entry, but it’s certainly not a requirement. You can post the “twitterfic” directly in the comments, twitter it (and post a link to that specific twitter entry), or blog it and post a link to your blog.
This contest especially, grammar will be VERY leniently graded. When you only have 140 characters to work with, sometimes extraneous letters get in the way. You want to make sure the meaning still comes across, of course.
The idea behind THIS contest is that not everyone is a writer. It can be hard to compete with people who ARE. Twitter is short enough that anyone can enter without spending too much time on each entry. “I really like bunnies. <3″ is a valid entry. No writing experience needed.
Contest 2
World of Writecraft is for those of you who (like me) really want to stretch your ideas through a longer bit of fiction.
Entries for this contest can be anywhere from 1 paragraph long to 1,500 words long. 1,500 words is actually quite a lot. For a silly contest like this, I’d think it’s longer than most people will actually need, but you’re free to go all the way to the limit if it makes you happy.
Contest Prizes
And, of course, what you were all waiting for. The prizes.
Both contests will have two winners. There will be a Grand Prize Winner and a Runner up for EACH contest. I reserve the right to reward honorable mentions if I so choose.
Grand Prize is a fully-colored hand-drawn illustration of the warcraft animal depicted in your story. Alternately, if you’d prefer me to write a short story (up to 1,500 words) for a character of yours, I will do that instead.
Example : Ravager
Runner Up Prize is a hand-drawn and colored bookmark of the warcraft animal depicted in your story -OR- a short story (again, up to 1,500 words) for one of your characters.
Example : Character Bookmarks
Bear in mind that if you win and choose an art prize, I’ll want some kind of mailing address from you so that I can mail the art to you.
Summary
Contests! Two of them! Enter in the comments here before July 1!
Any questions? Ask away!
Images
I will be adding images to mark those comments which are entries.
The kittyface is for the World of Twittercraft entries.
The buckteeth are for the World of Writecraft entries.
May 5th, 2009
I shall stick to throwing my mighty opinion around and weighing judgement on your fanbase.
Bring on the twittererers!
May 5th, 2009
A contest? Hell, why not?!
I have a question or seven. Does the animal have to be the main character in a story, does it need to be at least one of the main characters, or is it enough if the story is somehow about the animal?
And… can we classify dragons as animals for the purpose of this contest? *puppy eyes*
May 5th, 2009
@Iris
Superb questions!
Dragons are animals for the purposes of this contest. The animal merely needs to be IN the story somewhere. Doesn’t have to be the main character or even incredibly important in the story (I mean, I personally like animal stories, but if you write a story about a paladin on his horse and you win, you’re going to get a picture of a horse. If that’s what you want, then full speed ahead!).
The reason for the animal bit is that I can’t DRAW humanoids. I’ve tried. I need a lot more practice. So all the art prizes are animals because I know I can do those.
May 5th, 2009
<3 the idea, i think i’ll def try out my writing skills on this
Although like Iris asked, i’m curious whether said animal just need to be the main character of our story and any other character just needs to be inside the “warcraft world”, or how do you want that to work out?
May 5th, 2009
@Celinne
The animal doesn’t necessarily have to be the “main character” but the story itself should be warcraft fanfiction.
Does that help, or did I miss the mark?
May 5th, 2009
Yea you just managed to answer before i hit my “Submit Comment” button XD thanks
Note to self: Check for answers before posting a comment…
May 5th, 2009
This is where being a good writer comes in handy!
May 5th, 2009
I think I may give it a shot. Never really enter contests, but I do have a creative mind. Now I’m going to have Wow animals on my mind 24-7 until I come up with something ~.~;. Fun times lol.
May 5th, 2009
Oo oo i haz question. Does writing about druids count as animals, you know animal forms and all that jazz. Please says yes *puppy eyes* pweeeeez
May 5th, 2009
Trovato starred down at the NG-5 and whimpered, the fur on her ghost wolf back prickled with horror at what Gnomes asked of her for “peace.”
Author’s Note: The quest described in that sentence is found in Stonetalon Mountains. Best bet, if you’re confused, is to WoWwiki “NG-5″ and read the two quests involved with it.
May 5th, 2009
The snow leopard fumed, angry that she let herself, be captured and turned into a…a… pet! Even worse, her captor was a dwarf!
P.S.: Enjoy!
May 5th, 2009
@Celinne
*laughs* No problem. =]
@Varcse
Actually, I’ve tried to make it so that even those without very strong writing skills have a chance to win. Hopefully. That was the goal, anyway.
@Pompiro
Yes, druid forms definitely count! Good question!
@Jess and Varcse
Wow, entries already!
Eeee, awesome!
May 5th, 2009
@Vonya
Expect Contest 2 in a few minutes, hour max!
May 5th, 2009
The grizzly bear fell in love. The druid shifted. A heart broke. The bear roared her sadness. The woods echoed with voiceless compassion.
I didn’t really intend to make a Twitter entry, but this one just came to me.
May 5th, 2009
The howling and vengeful wind of Icecrown tore through Eglo’s green skin, leaving him huddled up with his old friend and treasured companion, the white wolf Lortak. Muttering in the strange and seemingly primitive language of the orcs, he trudged on towards the Argent Vanguard, eager to return to civilization and hopefully some food. Lortak whined, seemingly in agreement. Eglo grinned, glad to have this last reminder of the Frostwolf clan up here in this spiritsforsaken land. Suddenly, a flash of light showed up about northwest of the hunter’s position. Eglo dropped to the ground just as a magical bolt of fire flew over him. Silently, using incomprehensible grunts and gesticulations, Eglo signaled to Lortak to circle around the mage’s position and engage him.
Counting 30 seconds, Eglo jumped up, drew his bow, and shot a black-tipped arrow augmented with the fatal viper venom. Lortak had already caught the mage’s attention and the foolish mana-user was running away. Eglo smiled grimly. You don’t run away from a hunter. Taking careful aim, all the time whispering words of magic under his breath, Eglo released the arrow, straight and true. The mage dropped dead.
The hunter rushed towards the mage’s dead body, hoping to find a piece of silver or some other bauble. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, encased in a block of ice, and watched amazingly as the mage stood up, brushed off his robes, and looked at Eglo. “Foolish orc.”he sneered. “ Did you really think a paltry arrow would stop a soldier of the Scourge?”
Petrified, Eglo could only stare in horror. The dead wizard laughed. “Tell your living allies back home that Lord Arthas is annoyed. And Lord Arthas does not like to be annoyed. He will finish what he started years ago.”
The mage started to turn away. “Oh yes.” He added. “A little warning.” The magic user waved his hand, and Lortak dropped, quite dead.
NOOO!!!! Eglo screamed silently. His last sights before he drifted off to a magical sleep was the cursed mage chuckling evilly…
P.S. A bit long..
May 5th, 2009
Awww a writing contest about animals ! That’s for me !
Playing a hunter, I will easily find something to write about my pets… I love them… Actually, I already wrote in an RP fashion about them on my blog but I will need to find a new story…
And great about the druids counting as animals if in forms… I had a great story about a grumpy old bear druid… But guess what… It’s in French and I don’t know if I will be able to translate it in English in a satisfactory fashion…
Anyway, I want a brand new story for this contest, but you can have a look at the old ones if you want on my blog… (”rolepalying” category) Two month should be enough to find a good brand new story.
Thanks again !
Nef
May 5th, 2009
Ghost Saber prowls, hidden
Lightning strikes, prey held in jaws
Smoke drifts through forest
May 5th, 2009
One kill brings honor and glory above all in Naxx. One inspires a race to strike the killing blow. That one…is Mr. Bigglesworth.
May 5th, 2009
July 1st!!! thats my birthday
May 5th, 2009
“Where did that hunter go now,” Nox sighed, she rummaged through her bags for a piece of meat. Once her hand found the cold bundle of packaged meat she’d been saving for lunch, she sighed once more. She placed it on the ground, sprinkled a pinch of spices she’d picked up from the traveling salesman this morning and placed it on the ground in front of her.
“What are you…? Oh… Jacob,” Pixel said, a look of instant recognition flitted across her face for a second, and then back to the bored, almost placid look the warlock always had before a mission.
“You’re sacrificing your lunch to hurry this mission along?” asked Lei, checking over her armor meticulously. As a Paladin of the Light, she got herself dirty for good more often than she liked. She did this type of cleaning when she was anxious, and the missive they received from Guard Berton in Lakeshire to rid Azeroth of someone named Targorr was weighing on everyone’s mind.
“Where Jacob is, so will be Verita, this’ll just speed things up. The letter from Guard Berton didn’t seem time sensitive, but I don’t relish the idea of going into the Stockades anymore than you two do,” Nox said, crossing her arms.
All of a sudden, a dark wolf rumbled toward the three females from the direction of the Park.
“I should have known,” muttered Lei, rolling her eyes.
The beautiful animal was followed shortly after by the group’s shaman and hunter, Trovato and Verita. The animal looked at Nox then devoured her lunch in one swift motion.
“Must you spoil him,” asked Verita in a mock-annoyed tone.
Suddenly, Nox’s beautiful purple skin was covered in a brown, russet-colored fur, her body mass tripled in origin to form that of a bear. Jacob dropped down in a playful, defensive stance, but Nox shook her muzzle and the wolf whimpered in disappointment.
“She’ll play with you after the mission, Jacob,” Trovato said, frowning at the wolf’s disappointment.
“Let’s get this finished, I’m expected at the Slaughtered Lamb by dusk,” said Pixel.
—
The five females were like a well-oiled machined with a wolf as a mascot. Meeting in Westfall outside the Moonbrook School, the women instantly became traveling companions. And to everyone’s surprise, it was Jacob’s presence that was the initial dot-connector.
After defeating the Defias in Moonbrook, the murloc clans by the coast, and the gnolls that inhabited Stendel’s Pond, the group ventured into the Defias’ hideout, known around Azeroth as the Deadmines, in search of the infamous criminal, Edwin VanCleef.
Their mutual success in crushing the Defias’ leader entwined the girls’ fate more than they were consciously aware, leading them to travel to the Redridge Mountains together, then onto Duskwood when their training was sufficient enough. They were known around Stormwind and the surrounding areas as Azeroth’s Wraiths and on their crest was a wolf’s paw, which was Pixel’s idea, being that she was the group’s mender and tailor. She had approached the girls on their rest in Stormwind shortly after VanCleef’s defeat with a sketch of what they wore on their chests now. It was instantly agreed that the women would wear the insignia proudly and Jacob understood, via Verita, that he was more important to them than just another vessel for fighting.
Each woman brought to the table a different role and attitude, making the group complete on many levels. Obnoxious, lovingly known as Nox to the other girls, was a druid. She has practiced all three aspects of druidic powers, the healing, the descructive, and the protective, but she found her niche transforming into a bear and protecting those around her. Between her bear and cat forms, her wolf companion preferred her bear due to how durable she was when they wrestle. She could give him great chase in her cat form, but his aversion to felines makes it hard for him to distinguish between friend and foe sometimes and Verita had been known to have to subdue him before he did Nox real damage.
Pixel and Lei are subordinates to the elders of Stormwind. An outsider would not have guessed that these two women are sisters, it’s a little hard to fathom based on their callings, Pixel being a warlock and Lei, a paladin. It’s not unheard of, just unconventional.
They were surrounded by Defias right outside Moonbrook when Verita and Jacob happened upon them. Lei’s powers of healing are not as strong as her powers of holy destruction, so when Pixel’s obtuse voidwalker decided that the five Defias threatening their lives wasn’t worth his time, he left the plane of Azeroth and the two women to fend for themselves crushing Lei under the weight of keeping the both of them alive. Jacob rushed in and grabbed the enemies’ attention, giving Pixel and Lei time to move away, gain some strength and defeat the group with Verita’s and Jacob’s help. Jacob, that day, forever won over Pixel and Lei, though they may not show it as often as the group’s Shaman, Trovato, does.
Trovato was the last girl to join the group. After the almost catastrophe in Moonbrook, the three girls and Jacob headed back to Sentinel Hill to rest and finish up their mission the next day. In the barely standing inn, they met Nox and Trovato. Nox and Lei had been engrossed in political discussions for most of the first evening, while Pixel and Verita had played with Jacob.
Right after sunset, a beautiful, celestial wolf walked through the door of the inn, immediately setting all four girls on alert. Jacob was the first to approach the new wolf, at first cautious, then playful. The girls all exchanged confused looks, then were shocked when the wolf transformed into a blue-skinned, similarly feminine creature. She introduced herself as Trovato, a shaman of the Draenai. Though her studious training in the ways of the light had given her adequate measure for healing others in battle, until she had met the girls she had little practice other than mending her own wounds. After consulting with Nox and Lei, she found she had a place amongst them and soon became the final member of Azeroth’s Wraiths and a fast friend of Jacob’s. Like Nox, she often used her celestial wolf form to entertain him when Nox found she was too busy to wrestle. Since that first night, anyone would be hard-pressed to believe that Jacob wasn’t Trovato’s companion, but Verita’s.
—
“You’ll make your meeting, Pixel, but first we must make sure we’re fully prepped for the oncoming fights,” warned Nox.
“With the new policies coming down from the King everyday, one must always be aware of right and wrong. This man that we’ve been commissioned to take care of is one very much in the wrong,” confirmed Lei.
Verita had been checking her quiver during the exchange and Amore absent-mindedly smoothing Jacob’s ruffled mane. Pixel gestured toward the entrance to the prison and said, “Well? Lead the way.”
Jacob’s ears perked up at the sound of the annoyance in her voice, he recognized it as something was about to happen, that Trovato had described it as getting ready to fight. He snarled low and walked beside Verita and Trovato as the two girls followed Nox into the belly of the beast…
May 6th, 2009
Went straight to Quel’thalas for a dragonhawk on my tenth season. Repeatedly killed by scourge, raptors, even gravity. Damn that gravity.
May 6th, 2009
Tell Varian that the devilsaur was tamed; many lives were lost. Actually, just a gnome. Forget it, I guess it wasn’t a big deal after all.
May 6th, 2009
http://silvermoo.blogspot.com/2009/05/contest-1-entry.html
May 6th, 2009
A friend of mine showed me this, I like writing although the animal theme wasn’t very appealing. But a small idea formed so I wrote a five line poem, thinking that would be <140 characters… clearly I had no idea how fast you fill up that space. So I just continued it, it’s a 15 minute creation. I hope you have a friend who plays a rogue, it’ll help you catch the punchline of the first verse.
———–
The rogue pulled his dagger, to stab druid in face
But the crab and its pincers, slowed down his pace
He vanished from sight, preparing to race
But then reappeared, still in same place
Both nature and Blizzard, would not let him chase
The druid then charged, the rogue as a bear
Set him aglow, with fire of faer’
The rogue could not hide, not run anywhere
He blinded the druid, tension in air
But the crab pinched its friend, remade him aware
The rogue tried to dodge each feral attack
But the crab had the sense to strike from the back
A gouging blow and its world then turned black
Druid gave rogue a most crippling smack
But who else was there, following track?
The rogue was frightened, covered in sweat
When suddenly the crab became less of a threat
It crawled to a hunter, seemed very upset
The hunter then fed it and the rogue ceased to fret
As the bear turned cheetah with its groinfur all wet
The druid ran, and would not soon forget,
How his once ally became the enemy’s pet!
May 6th, 2009
[i]Somewhere in The Dragonblight, Northrend.[/i]
He hated undead. They tasted foul for one. He avoided taking a bite whenever he could. He’d resorted to grabbing a mouthful of snow every now and then to get rid of the taste. Also they habitually left bits behind. Like the bit that was stuck to his left tusk right now.
The archers were already opening fire from the sides of the pass. The next wave lurched along it with some gigantic and putrescent white abomination in the lead. It already had several arrows sticking out of it. It didn’t seem particularly bothered by this. From behind him came the sounds of somebody rapidly and intently reloading a rifle.
He flicked his head again to try and get rid of the thing stuck on his tusk. It flapped around and smacked him in the muzzle with a wet slop. Stuff like this made his temper rise. His temper had been rising all morning. He was wet. He got cold the moment he stood still. He was hungry, but that was at least normal. He’d even be happy with some of the crunchy undead like you found back home near Lordaeron. At least with them there was some texture as long as you spat them out and didn’t swallow, but Nooo, he got wet and cold undead instead. They were only good for giving you a disgusting taste in your mouth and getting stuck on your tusks.
He backed away trying to shake the piece of stuff off his tusk. It slopped around the other way now and left a green stain on the side of his muzzle. If he could curse, he would have. Instead he grunted angrilly and took another step back.
Nearby the front ranks of the shambling hordes had engaged the defenders. The dwarf fired his rifle into the mob, taking a step back after each shot. The forward defendes were fighting back with sword and shield.
One of the defenders, a tall woman with blonde frizzy hair sticking out from under her plate helm, looked over at him and back at the dwarf.
“OI! Hunter! GET YOUR PET IN THERE!”
“Not yet lass, just hold…” came the reply.
He blanked the fighting out of his mind and focused on the thing on his tusk. It hung there, just out of range of his tongue, not that he wanted to taste it anymore. It was infuriating though. Taunting him. He started shaking his head vigorously until his entire short stubby body shook like he was having some sort of seizure.
The sounds of the frantic battle were all around him now. Defenders screamed for help. Wounded were being dragged off the field. Swords cracked against dry bone and swished through rotting flesh. Undead claws screeched across armor and gouged chunks out of unprotected defenders. He stepped back as the dwarf fired two more rounds right over his head.
“HUNTER! I SAID GET HIM IN THERE! There’s no time to waste!”
“‘S not tacticly viable right now lass, trust me… I know the right moment and the lad knows his job!”
He could see it clearly from his left eye now. It looked like a piece of rotting skin, a grey-green color, still wet on the underside. It should by all logic have been dislodged by now. He watched its trajectory carefully. Timed the rythm. Counted and then quick as he could, switched his head upward like a whip. If his calculations had been correct, the tension would have been just right to flick it off his tusk.
He watched in glee as it sailed upwards off of his tusk. In slow motion it flipped end over end above his head until the world around him got darker as a shadow loomed over him. The bloated horror that had been forming the core of the undead charge had reached him. It looked down at him with one bloodshot green eye. The other eye, blue, stared off at something unseen in the air above the battlefield.
He stood for a moment deciding what to do. It was then that the ’stuff’ finished its arc and still spinning, plopped down over his right eye with a disgusting wet sound, the lower half of the strip swinging round and smacked into his open mouth.
For a split second he stood there with the piece of grey-green flesh draped over his one eye and looked at the horror with his other and then he lost it. He had simply had enough. The world around him turned red and his vision blurred. The only target upon which to vent his wrath stood over him, gently oozing unmentionable liquids from its stitching.
He opened his jaw and let out a primal squeal. It was a warcry from the depths of beastial anger itself. It was that sound that was permanently wired into every predator’s mind. The sound that said: “You have just gone too far. You have crossed the line and the world is about to become a very unpleasant and painful place for you.”
Some time later, When the rest of the world reaserted itself, he realized that he was standing in the remains of the monstrosity. He was covered muzzle to hoof in ichor and other bits he didn’t want to think about. The most recognizable piece of the abomination was an arm still clutching a meathook. It lay a few feet from him in the snow and had toothmarks in it.
Stunned defenders stood in a quiet circle around him. He looked up and the circle enlarged by a few feet. The dwarf stood nearby, reloading his rifle with a massive grin breaking through his long, braided white beard. “That’s mah boy!” he said proudly. “Didja lot see that? Didja see what ‘e did!?”
Another defender studied him carefully over a shield: “I think it’s rabid… you sure it’s supposed to act like that? I never seen ‘em do that to something before. You sure he’s safe dwarf?”
“‘E’s ok lad, just a big softie really.”
“..how did it even know how to do that thing with the knees? Did you see what it did to the knees?!”
He stepped out of the remains of the thing and started heading away from the battleground in the hopes of finding a clean patch of snow to roll in. The soldiers rapidly moved out of his way, forming an opening in the circle.
“…crazy danged boar…”
May 6th, 2009
The frog sat, basking in the Grizzly Hills sun. “Do I smell lip balm? What? Put me down! *kiss* Argh! Nasty! Hmm…I think…I love you!”
Someone (me) has done one too many Argent Tournament dailies.
_Misa
May 6th, 2009
The dwarf sat under the shadow of the cliffs watching the lion carefully. He bent his will to mastering the beast. Wait. Where those horns?
May 6th, 2009
She calls me Aerlian
Aerlian ran, arms and legs pumping furiously, her blue hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. The young night elf hunter fought to keep her feet as the sandy Darkshore dunes gave way to the firmer forest loam.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid. Damn that thrice cursed shape-shifting druid for going ahead without me. Damn that mageroyal for growing so far from the main path,” she thought to herself.
She risked a quick glance behind to see that, indeed, the rabid thistle bear was gaining on her. A fresh burst of fear gave her a bit of speed, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She knew neither her meager leather armor nor her sword skills were any match for those claws. Nor did she have the distance to bring her bow into play, a moot point anyway as it was still tied to her pack. Narrowly avoiding a nightstalker, she spied an especially large tree ahead with a few lower hanging branches. “Perhaps if I can catch one and climb….and if it doesn’t come up after me, I can wait out the bear,” she thought wryly. A ferocious growl from behind sounded even closer. Aerlian continued to sprint as hard as she could despite the grayness creeping into the edges of her vision. She knew she’d have only one chance to snag a branch.
Aerlian darted around the tree with only a few dozen paces lead on the rabid bear, and barely avoided tackling a tallstrider. It was nearly full grown with its adult plummage in place. The brownish bird squawked imperiously and hopped to one side, at once both indigant at such treatment, but also exhibiting some of the curiosity common among the
chicks. In her efforts to avoid the creature coupled with her forward momentum and the copious tree roots, Aerlian went down with a cry. The tallstrider tipped its head to one side and back to the other, watching as Aerlian lurched off the ground to get her back to the tree gasping for air just as the thistle bear finished covering the distance between them.
“Oh. I’ve failed.” The utter finality of the situation struck her to her core. “I hope Starisan finds what’s left of me,” she thought as she drew her swords determined not to go down without a fight. The bear slowed its charge, but let out a roar and swiped at Aerlian, its claws catching her in the thigh and leaving deep gashes. Aerlian gasped and parried the next swipe dealing some damage of her own, but could feel the shakes starting in her legs as well as the blood beginning to soak her leggings.
Then, to her utter amazement, the tallstrider which had been watching intently whirled immediately on the thistle bear and let out a tremendous “SKUUUUREEEE”. The bird launched a well-aimed peck at the bear’s head with a thunk. The bear clawed at the bird who nimbly darted aside and pecked again. The bear backed away a few paces, but swiped again. The strange dance continued for several minutes until the bear finally turned and ran, the tallstrider in angry pursuit.
Aerlian lost sight of them as they ran down the other side of the dunes a half a league away. She slid limply down the tree as her adrenaline fled, easing her pack off to the side, and dropping her swords. Hands shaking she tried to find a healing potion, but gave up digging when a bandage surfaced first. Barely able to get the linen tied around her leg for the tremors, she settled into place for a moment to catch her breath. Almost at once, a flurry of green energy surrounded her and the pain and bleeding immediately eased. Starisan. Praise Elune!
“You went off after an herb again. Didn’t you?” said the night elf druid who had just appeared. Aerlian snorted, but didn’t reply.
“Light of Elune, girl! Say something before you dart off! And your bow doesn’t do any good unstrung and tied to your pack.” He continued to mutter epithets under his breath at her for several moments as he checked her wounds. He walked several paces away to retrieve his pack from where he had set it. When he turned back, however, he dropped it
in shock. Aerlian followed his gaze to find a brownish tallstrider rooting in her open pack.
“Here now! What are you doing?” said Aerlian crossly as she reached for the pack. The tallstrider squawked shortly and took a step back, but leaned back in toward the pack. “Alright, I suppose you do deserve something.” Aerlian pulled out a piece of dried fish and the tallstrider immediately pulled back in apparent revulsion. After several more tries,
Aerlian finally found a piece of Darnassian Bleu cheese, which when offered was immediately snatched out of her hand.
The tallstrider gulped it down greedily, then rattled softly in appreciation. Starisan watched the whole episode with an expression of bemusement. “Alright, then. Come on. Can you stand? Balthule Shadowstrike awaits. We’ve work to do to earn our pay, and you’ll need it to repair your armor,” Starisan said, as he looked pointedly at her damaged leggings.
“I think so,” Aerlian said, ignoring the look completely. She climbed gingerly to her feet, testing her ankle and leg, but found them whole again. She sheethed her swords and settled her pack onto her back. As they made their way back to the road, Aerlian turned to say something to Starisan, but realized the bird was following them. She frowned slightly and made shoo-ing motions, “Go on now. You’ve no business here.” The bird bounced in place and churred softly, but continued to follow as they took a few more steps.
“Ha, I think you have a friend,” pronounced Starisan.
Aerlian groaned, putting her face in her hands. “But I can’t! I need a proper pet! A cat! Everyone has a cat! Not a silly bird. Do you know what Jocaste will say when I go back for training with THAT following me?! I’ll be the laughing stock of my entire training group and next year’s too!!” She made another attempt to shoo the bird which danced away
rattling and preening its feathers. It darted back in and plucked at her pony tail, tugging playfully as Aerlian swung her arms in an unsuccessful attempt to bat it away.
Starisan laughed loudly, “What are you going to name it?”
“It’s a Her not an It,” proclaimed Aerlian hotly whirling on Starisan, then her face fell as the realization struck her. She did indeed now have one brownish, ornery tallstrider as her very own. Starisan chuckled and tossed her a goldenbark apple to feed to their latest party member. Aerlian carefully sliced the apple and tossed pieces to the bird. “Petunia. She says her name is Petunia.”
May 6th, 2009
“One early, early morning a few weeks ago Cyn, Oak and I were too wired from raiding all night to go to bed. We started looking through our “1001 Things to Do in Aziroth Before You Die” book and dreaming about exotic destinations, those fruity drinks with the paper umbrellas, and buff, Orcan pool boy … er … never mind that…….. “
May 7th, 2009
Hey Ann, have to say that was awesome. I started skimming your story and then went back and read it properly. Very cool and the end had me going ‘Aaawwwww….’ I love birds and always had pet chickens, ducks, pigeons and stuff that followed me around. I could just see the critter rooting through the backpack and belting down a piece of cheese when offered.
Very cute story.
May 7th, 2009
“Awww how cute!” Marvin the Rhino was raging with anger. They did it again! They babyspiced him …
May 7th, 2009
Old warrior stared the dragon in the eye. “One of us has to retire”, he said, drawing his sword and charging into the darkness of the lair.
————-
Silence fell after the noise: the enemy withdrew. The Argent Dawn had barely time to take a deep breath, before the Scourge stuck again.
May 7th, 2009
Crap… forgot the animal from the second… Could there be a skeleton cat somewhere?
May 7th, 2009
@Copra
*laughs* Skeleton cat duly noted. *gigglesnort*
May 7th, 2009
Hey Plastic Rat,
Thanks for the compliment. My first attempt at wowfic.
Kudos to Anthastare for the babyspiced rhino. /snicker.
Ann
May 8th, 2009
I guess I accept the challenge, but need time to put something together.
May 8th, 2009
How are you? I am fine. I travel with a remarkable bunny and thought you might like reading about him. (In my latest letter.) Also, if you know of any tavern owners that are tired of the same old music loop piped in overhead, please send them my way.
Big fan!
R. Pebblebottom
May 9th, 2009
Traversing the Borean Tundra in travel form makes my paws hurt so much. Lucky I got rid of that heavy Proto Drake from my backpack.
May 9th, 2009
May 10th, 2009
http://twitter.com/Azryu
TEASER:
“So fast, so swift, we ride.”
I actually love it. I hope you do too
May 14th, 2009
With a stampede of Tauren hoofs approaching from Blood Hoof, the cougar decided he had enough beef for the day and fled.
May 16th, 2009
He’s so cute.
Where’s he, you ask? Well, he’s right he~..
awfergawdsakesfluffy, STOP MATING!
May 18th, 2009
When the Orcs ravaged the farm, the rabbit went into his hole. Once it was over, he came back out. At least the carrots were still there.
I’m impressed that Fatale went with the Tauren. I chose Orcs because of the letter limit.
May 18th, 2009
As the ships crossed the ocean, the fish always watched from below, cold eyes unblinking. Their secret was safe for now. But for how long?
May 19th, 2009
Hipity hop hipity hop hipity hop. thwack. hehehe. bunny dead. oooh squirley…hehehe.
May 19th, 2009
Sorry Bob, but I could NOT resist.
May 19th, 2009
@Splintered: Np, we can all collaborate on a “Secret of the Fishies” story.
I have a fish tank full of fish that follow you as you walk past. 20 of them against the glass staring at you. I always wondered what they were all thinking as they watched me. Their mouths are constantly moving as if they were chanting some ancient, silent hymn.
P.S. This wasn’t a Twitter entry. This is just some background information on me so you will all know that I think I’m being stalked by my fish tank. Oh yeah, they’re plotting something. Or maybe they just want to be fed.
May 20th, 2009
@ Bob & Splintered
Plz i cant stand it!!!
WHAT R THE FISHIES DOING????!!!
May 21st, 2009
[...] Vonya of Egotistical Priest [...]
May 22nd, 2009
Prowling I approach
Hurricane howls in the Fjord
Friend or Fowl is mine
Sylice held her breath as the bloated monstrosity shambled by just feet from her hiding-place. Even so, the stench wafting off the thing in the wake of its passage assaulted her with an almost physical force. She strained to maintain the concentration needed to hold herself in Shadowmeld, sweat trickling between her shoulders to pool in the small of her back.
This was the fourth time she’d watched the vile creature’s circumambulation of the cavernous chamber before her, trying to time her dash to the next shadowy corner between its passage and that of the trio of putrescent golems that patrolled in its wake. If she ever got out of this fix, she vowed to herself, she would track down all her erstwhile companions on this ill-fated venture – especially the insufferable Dranei palladin who’d talked her into it – and extract from them (or their closest living relative) a severe compensation for her pain and suffering. Each and every one of them. Thrice.
But first she had to get across this gaping chamber, traverse the poisoned moat at the other side and then somehow evade the masses of pustulent manifestations that were variously crawling, sliming and tumbling through the rooms that lay between her and the magically fortified exit to the fortress. Gritting her teeth and sending a brief (and rather shrill) prayer to Selune, Sylice let herself phase out of Shadowmeld, then launched across the crumbling flagstones in a desperate dash for next shadowed alcove.
Flattening herself against a slimy column, she once again cursed the dwarf hunter and his prissy ghost saber pet. How could the man have brought a poorly-trained (and ill-tempered) beast like that into a situation like this? Worse, how could their palladin leader have allowed it? Granted, the animal was a beautiful piece of work, but that huntard barely had a leash on it! This was brutally and finally brought home to the hunter and all nine of his compatriots when the cat, already traumatized by the party’s encounters with the run-of-the-mill monsters that populated the fortress’s Construct Quarter, flipped out and charged the notorious abomination Patchwerk all by itself.
Considering it after her adrenaline rush had somewhat receded, Sylice decided that ample curses were also due the nincompoop Human priestess who actually tried to SAVE the cat from its suicidal rush by healing it of the vicious damage Patchwerk had immediately dealt out. And then, nothing would do but that the paladin would rush heroically to the priestess’s rescue… much too late, of course, as Patchwerk had already leveled a hateful strike at the hapless woman. At that point, the whole party had scattered to the four winds. Why die pointlessly?
Sylice herself had dashed to the far corner of the room and Shadowmelded, then waited for the berserk abomination to trundle off to the opposite corner of his chamber in pursuit of the gnome ice mage (good thing that little guy was so slippery) before squeezing under the portcullis, stealthing out around the corner and away toward the exit. Of course, Patchwerk soon tired of stomping the other members of her party into little bloody puddles, and began bellowing into the depths of the fortress, summoning minions to repopulate the corridors and rooms her party had worked so hard to clear of Construct taint. Thus, here she was, a lone night elf rogue caught deep in the bowels of Naxxramus, praying for a lucky break and a clear path to the exit.
She peeked around the column: all clear. Creeping slowly along the edge of the room, she squirmed behind a fetid wall-hanging, cautiously leaned out around the corner to assess the room beyond… and came face-to-face with a small gray cat. As if to remove any doubt that he was the spawn of Evil itself, the cat opened his mouth to yowl in outrage at Sylice’s invasion of his personal space. Reflexively, Sylice silenced the animal with a well-aimed blow.
A glint of metal caught her eye. Was that a name tag on the cat’s collar? “Mr. Bigglesworth”, she had time to read. But as she stood gazing numbly at the fuzzy body slumped at her feet, Sylice was suddenly pummeled to her knees by an anguished mental screech.
“No!!! A curse upon you, interlopers! The armies of the Lich King will hunt you down. You will not escape your fate…”
What in the -? Uh oh, she wasn’t the only one to hear that howl. Head throbbing, teeth bared in a feral snarl, Sylice laid a final, fervent and heartfelt curse on all things feline, then turned to face the abominations thundering down upon her.
May 22nd, 2009
@ Vonya
did you just get invited to BlizzCon?
May 23rd, 2009
@Varcse
Nope! My contest was simply mentioned alongside another contest whose prize is a trip to Blizzcon. =]
May 27th, 2009
Carefully he stepped in to the cavern and looked around. He let out a sigh. Spiders. Why did it always have to be spiders?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Authors note:
Just a rant about my annoyance with Blizzard of their massive abuse of spiders in WoW. I am no fan of spiders and wherever I turn Blizzard has seemed to put in more nasty little bugs.
May 27th, 2009
Blue baby dragonhawk follows the former Champion of Death. The scourge slaughter provides plenty of scraps.
Inspired by my DK who wanders the plaguelands with her pet dh.
June 10th, 2009
http://shadowygoodness.wordpress.com/world-of-writecraft/
June 22nd, 2009
[...] dans : In English, In French, Roleplaying — Nefernet @ 6:01 This is a story for the writing contest, at Ego’s blog. I wrote it in French first and tried to translate it in English. I hope I managed to translate the [...]
June 22nd, 2009
I wrote my story today for your contest 2. A story about a wolf. This wolf watched over the very firsts days of my little Nefernet and I hope you will love the story. I wrote it in French first to make my idea clear and translated it in English afterward. Translations are not easy and I hope I managed to keep the emotion and didn’t do too much mistakes.
Good reading !
Nef
http://krasuskronicles.wordpress.com/2009/06/22/eliah/
June 22nd, 2009
[...] We’ve got a lot of awesome entries, but there’s always room for more! Check out the original post for details. [...]
June 22nd, 2009
Hmm…. something about animals, eh?
I think I have something laying about that might fit the bill.
http://deceptivelyrandom.wordpress.com/2009/06/10/missing/
June 23rd, 2009
A sprightly young druid turned Moonkin
Often found himself quite the Oomkin,
So he specced Moonglow
and started to show
With mana he was quite the BOOMkin
July 1st, 2009
—————
This would be their third drake kill this day. The first had been a narrow escape. They’d killed the drake but almost died when the rider had leapt onto Gedran’s back as his dying mount fell from the sky. Whatever they were, these orcs held no fear. The orc had shoved a rusty dagger into Bailoch’s lower back before being thrown off. The blade seemed to have missed everything important, but he was still bleeding profusely. Regardless of that fact, he was a Wildhammer. Wildhammers had no masters and those included pain and fear.
They’d learned by the second kill to make two attacks. On the first Gedran would swoop in low from behind and drop his rider right behind the orc. While Bailoch distracted the rider and the drake, the gryphon would come up from underneath and strike at the weakest points.
It worked well on the second kill, Bailoch gritting his teeth against the wound and swinging rather heavily back into the saddle as the dying drake plummeted towards the ocean below. The drake and its doomed rider spiralled down toward an ocean filled with tiny burning ships and drowning sailors, both orc and human, too small to see from here.
The dragonmaws, forced to defend themselves against the tenacious Wildhammers, could not concentrate on igniting the surviving ships. The humans’ superior seamanship was now rapidly showing its effect and Proudmoore’s fleet was regaining the upper hand.
As they fell into a dive toward their third target, their luck changed. The orc for some inexplicable reason glanced over his shoulder. Seeing the rapidly moving gryphon swooping in, the orc expertly spun his body around in the saddle and drew a short dagger, well prepared for their attack. His tusky grin widened as he waited. If they overshot, the drake would be on their tail and able to incinerate them at will. They didn’t have many options.
Gedran rolled slightly to the side as Bailoch dropped onto the drake’s back and prepared to fend off the dragonmaw’s attacks. His rider now able to keep the drake distracted, the gryphon started looping around and prepared to come in from below.
Again, luck did not look fondly upon the two. Aware of the incoming attack, the drake pivoted in midair, almost sending Bailoch plummeting. It arched its scaly neck and inhaled a massive draught of air.
Barely managing to hold on, the dwarf struggled to block and parry the orc’s attacks, which gave the dragon rider plenty of time to assess the situation. The orc grinned ever more widely as it noticed the bleeding wound on his back. With its meaty left hand it reached out and clamped thick green fingers into the wound. As Bailoch lost focus from the pain, the orc easilly disarmed him.
Gedran had enough time to close his eyes and tilt his head away before the drake’s fiery breath washed over him. The gryphon’s momentum carried him through the cloud of flame, searing away flight feathers, fur and skin and slamming him bodily into the drake. Instinctively his claws dug in and found purchase in the scaly hide, his beak scrabbling and slashing for a weak spot on the drake’s neck where he could strike a mortal wound. His left eye seared shut from the blast, body numb, and the smell of burnt hair and skin thick in his nostrils, Gedran let out a roar of frustration and pain.
Above him, Bailoch had somehow pulled himself into body contact with the orc rider. Their weapons now both lost in the furious combat, the two were exchanging punishing body blows without any regard for their own defence. It was purely a battle of endurance and it was not hard to see who would last. His back wound now sapping his life by the second, Bailoch’s movements had already grown weak and lethargic.
It seemed like hours before the gryphon felt the heat of the drake’s pulsing jugular under his tongue and closed his beak with every ounce of rage and desperation he could muster. The battle changed instantly.
Gushing blood and floundering in the air, the massive beast started to spiral, its still viciously scrapping cargo clinging on with everything they had. Clawing his way around the dying dragon’s body, Gedran got within beak range of the orc and dwarf. With a stretch of his scorched neck, he closed his beak around the wildhammer’s harness.
Hanging onto his rider with all he could muster he slammed the orc repeatedly with his wing until, stunned, he could pull Bailoch free.
As he leaped away from the drake’s death spiral, Gedran could see the rest of the battle starting to wind down in the distance. Their flight had carried them far from the main battle and the other gryphons were merely specs in the sky now.
Stabilizing his flight, he carefully passed the dwarf from his beak to his front tallons, trying not to cause any further damage to the barely conscious warrior. He turned his head so he could see out of his right, unscorched eye, and looked down at his companion. The dwarf had a certain serenity to his face. His eyes had the glassy look of shock and bloodloss and he was fading rapidly.
For a moment or two they hovered there, above the clouds. His flight feathers scorched and mangled, Gedran tried desperately to keep them both from plummeting down into the whispy masses of white below.
The dwarf started to sing. It was just a whisper, a chant, but it slowly gained melody. It was a soft song with memories of open skies and grand peaks. It hinted at battles won and lost. Of friends, family and loved ones who would be proud to tell his tale… if only they knew his story. It was the dying song of a warrior of the Wildhammer clan and only he, Gedran, would hear it.
The song finished and still hanging onto consciousness by a thread, the dwarf patted Gedran’s scorched and blood encrusted chest as a final farewell.
It was there where the grypon left him. There amongst the clouds and the winds, where his soul could roam free. His body falling, arms outstretched into their white embrace.
No Wildhammer would have asked for more.
July 1st, 2009
I first laid eyes on her near a sign post that pointed the way to Westfall one fine winter morning in Elwynn Forest and as soon as I did, I knew with every fiber of my being that my life would never be the same again. Somehow I knew, just from that single glance, that her introduction into my life would change it. Permanently. Irrevocably.
At first, it was only a glance from across the well worn path but of their own accord, my legs slowed and eventually stopped walking altogether and that simple glance changed to outright staring as the long seconds bled into minutes. I was well aware of the fact that I was staring at her and furthermore, I knew that if she happened to look my way, she would notice it in a second and get all creeped out but I simply couldn’t help myself.
She was without a doubt the single most beautiful creature that I’d ever set eyes on. She was perched on the edge of the fence that lined one side of the road. From the looks of things, she seemed to have been sitting there for quite a while. The bright morning sun lent her full-black hair a flowing sheen that resembled sunlight flashing on water. Believe me when I say this but I could go on. I could describe her eyes and talk about how they reminded me of the stars that freckle the sky at night. I could describe her face and how perfect it seemed to me or her body and what I wanted to…well, you get the idea, but I won’t. Why would I want to bore you with those niggling details? They don’t really matter in the least. All that truly mattered was that I had finally met Her. I had been looking for Her all my life and here She was; I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with her.
She gave off an impression of alertness and awareness of her surroundings while keeping about her an aura of nonchalance. Her attention seemed to be almost completely absorbed with the process of nibbling on a slowly diminishing piece of bread that she held. As absorbed as she seemed to be with that task, it’s no wonder that she didn’t notice me still staring at her from across the street. It was inevitable though…you get a prickling feeling down your spine when you’re being watched. She probably felt it just as the bus was turning the corner and heading to the stop where she sat.
She looked up and for the first time, our eyes met. Now I won’t say that it was love at first sight. I’ve never believed in such garbage. I mean, how could anyone possibly fall in love with someone at first sight? It’s absolutely ridiculous. In reality, I’d say that it took us a good ten seconds before everything just clicked.
We stared at each other from across the street that winter morning. I could see heaven so clearly in her eyes and in that crystal clear, frozen moment, I could see the rest of our lives together. I could see us getting together today and getting to know each other better. I could see us meeting together more and more often as the days, weeks and months went by. I could see us living together, spending the beautiful days together and the nights, falling asleep cuddled in each others warmth. I could see us raising children, loving them and teaching them about life and how to enjoy it and far enough down the line, I could see us growing old together…eventually dying in each others arms in our sleep one night to head to whatever lay after this life together.
The same thoughts must have gotten to both of us at the same time, even more of an indication that we were meant for each other. She stood, letting the piece of bread she had been nibbling on fall to the snow covered ground without her notice. What could such minor concerns possibly mean in the face of true love? She started towards me across the road and without a conscious thought, my legs got me started towards her as well. We would meet in the middle and walk off together into the rest of our lives.
A deep rhythmic thumping filled the air and from the corner of my eye, I could see a a fiend from hell bearing down on us. Flashing eyes set above a mouth chock full of sharp fangs and the crowning insanity, a purple skinned woman with abnormally long ears in a white dress riding on top of the whole mess. THE TIGER! My mind screeched at me. THE TIGER! This can’t be happening. THE TIGER! A numbness filled my mind and body. THE TIGER! I couldn’t move to save her. THE TIGER! I had to do something! THE TIGERTHETIGERTHETIGERTHETIGER…
I managed to take only one step before she was gone, removed from the world by the massive hulking paws of the cat tromping right over her, leaving behind nothing of her perfection but a bright red smear on the slushy, snow covered road.
Wouldn’t you scream? If you were witness to the most perfect of all of Elune’s creatures being erased from existence like that…wouldn’t you scream? Would you blame me if I did? I opened my mouth, ready to give vent to the most horrible sound in all of existence; that of a living being that had lost his one true love.
Or…that was the plan. That’s what would have happened had not the giant paws, swerving and off balance on the slippery road, regained their balance and stride by crushing me while my mouth was still trying to articulate my horrendous sense of loss.
I knew nothing more.
Alas, such is the fate of two squirrels in love.
July 3rd, 2009
Contest is closed! Any entries after this point are most regretfully disqualified.
July 10th, 2009
[...] a huge, HUGE thanks to everyone who entered. You guys did NOT make this easy, and there are some really incredible entries that didn’t win, but still rocked the contest back on its [...]
July 28th, 2009
[...] The first contest prize is complete. Plastic Rat’s trusty, crazy boar. [...]
July 28th, 2009
[...] first Ego contest prize art is complete! Plastic Rat’s trusty, crazy boar. As a bonus for reading this here, I’m uploading the sketch and ink stages of the art, too. I [...]
August 8th, 2009
[...] second Ego contest prize art is complete! Iris’ hearbroken bear. I don’t know why, but when I sprayed the fixative on the art, the bottom part of the tree [...]
August 8th, 2009
[...] second Ego contest prize art is complete! Iris’ hearbroken bear. I don’t know why, but when I sprayed the fixative on the art, the bottom part of the tree [...]
August 12th, 2009
[...] third Ego contest prize art is complete! Ann’s Undaunted Tallstrider. I wasn’t able to get the colors quite where I wanted on this one, but I like it anyway. It [...]
August 12th, 2009
[...] third Ego contest prize art is complete! Ann’s Undaunted Tallstrider. I wasn’t able to get the colors quite where I wanted on this one, but I like it anyway. It [...]
August 14th, 2009
[...] Ego contest prize is done! An Honorable Mention sketch for Jess, of her faithful [...]
August 14th, 2009
[...] Ego contest prize is done! An Honorable Mention sketch for Jess, of her faithful [...]
August 20th, 2009
[...] dragon sketch for Honorable Mention for Copra, with the retirement package. As a side note, I TRIED to draw a “serious” dragon, and [...]
August 20th, 2009
[...] dragon sketch for Honorable Mention for Copra, with the retirement package. As a side note, I TRIED to draw a “serious” dragon, and [...]
September 5th, 2009
[...] tauren druid bookmark for Jerran and the poor, shortsighted dwarf hunter. As always, click to [...]
September 5th, 2009
[...] tauren druid bookmark for Jerran and the poor, shortsighted dwarf hunter. Click to [...]