Short Story/Poem Contest

Twas the night before maintenance, and all through the server,
silence was heard, not even a murmur.
The players were all offline and in bed,
With visions of pumpkins, reapers, stuck in their head.

Tomorrow it happens, tomorrow’s the day
The great Halloween event will be ready for play.
The suspense has been great, the excitement exploding
Now BlueByte just hopes for no troubles while loading.
The test server went well, twas proclaimed a success
With new generals and buildings and fields in excess!

With my coffee mug set, filled to the brim
My 24 hours of playing is about to begin.
My strategy is set, my plans are all made,
My worries and anxieties will soon go fade.
The Semetaries are first, then off to go trade,
The pumpkin market I’ll corner, the groundwork is laid.
The Reaper comes first, the Schoolhouse is next
Then graves and tombs and, then, possibly blue text.

For the questions are coming, questions galore!
“I want fields, I want buffs, I want more, more, MORE!”
Poor MrGrimm, poor meesherbeans,
Do they not know what all of this means?
Gratitude and happiness are not part of a game
Fun stuff and contests and events, they’re all so lame
Players want free stuff, hacks, and what’s more
Actually playing a game like this, what a bore!
Strategy is dumb and thinking just hurts,
We want ease of play, and instant desserts!
Give us our guides, give us our gems,
Give us our codes so we can all win!
The poor little devs, they try oh so much
But in the end, there is nothing as such
Gratitude is lacking, questions are growing,
And great disappointment seems to be flowing.
But I digress in my worries, my sadness and fear,
For the great Halloween event is now so near!

So I sip my Red Bull laced coffee and anxious wait,
Soon the maintenance ends and my joy will be great!
But then, into my mind, a new question arises,
When is the Christmas Event and what are it’s prizes?


alas, sarcasm never wins, but maybe I'll make it onto Katealyst's bulletin board....

One star filled night the settlers were filled with fear, for there was a chill in the air and the wind had a sharp
edge feel on their faces. They were busy working in their fields and factories just as any other night but this
was not like any other night. They heard the howl in the distance and wondered what was that, for the moon
was full and the howl getting louder. They peered out the windows and those in the fields were perplexed for
the howl was very eerie indeed. The night was very spooky for the jack o lanterns were lit throughout the
village and the shadows cast images of ghosts and ghouls that were approaching and all of a sudden there
were Zombies putting buffs on their work yards to make them work harder and produce more. Oh what a night
it was on the settlers island. The night of Halloween will not be forgotten.

We had reached the dock
About one o'clock,
The longest half-hour of our lives

"Recruits to the front!"
Was yelled with a grunt,
We now must be strong to survive

We knew that The Nords
Would combat our hordes,
But we had come to fight!

Destroying their camps
Was simply romance,
Their blood was spilled that night!

We Stole From The Rich
To cure a dark itch,
With a gleam of gold in our eyes

To my heart's delight
I witnessed the sight,
The death of Sir Robin our prize

While healthy and wealthy,
And ready for more

To pillage each village,
Was truly our score!

"To the Pirates Isle!"
Was yelled with a smile,
Our aim was to make each man fall

A quick little war
But not quite a bore,
We ensured to have killed them all!

Off to an Outlaw
(The famous southpaw),
Whose challenge was more than great

In you I'll confide
We took it in stride,
Our lives saved only by fate

To boost our morale
We hopped a canal,
Then ventured towards a Dark Priest

Done storming that land
We left only sand,
And fought as a single beast

Now battered and tattered,
We are not yet bested

We have tried and have died,
But now will be tested

Now onward we travel
Enemies unravel,
Our might is what we shall prove

More troops have come
That fight as one,
To conquer is our behoove

We fight each day
Making our way,
Towards riches beyond belief

With a swing of a sword
Into those we abhorred,
We offered them no relief

With the sun at our backs
And our waves of attacks,
We shall battle onward more

I'm a simple Recruit
And I fight for the loot,
But yearn for my island's shore

One bright day mid Halloween night,
Two dead Settlers boys got up to fight.
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot one another.
The deaf Town Sheriff heard the noise,
Then came and shot them two dead boys.
If you don’t believe this story is true,
Just asked the blind Settler - he saw it too.

The Swamp Witch Project

It was a chilly crisp October morning no different from any other. Woodcutters hacked away at aged pine trees, farmers tended their plentiful fields of golden wheat, fishermen brought in their bounty fresh from the sea. Village life continued within the tiny settlement just as it had for a seemingly endless eternity.

It was just before noon when an explorer returned bringing urgent tidings of foul creatures dwelling in marshland nearby. Hastily the villagers gathered to formulate ways to deal with the newly learned of threat. A decision was reached that they would bear arms, to hopefully eliminate the foes before the chances of victory dwindled. The hordes that lay before them would only inevitably grow stronger and greater in number if left unattended. Three battle hardened men were appointed as generals shortly before departing with newly trained troops. Families prayed their kin would return.

Approaching the explorer’s given location, it became evident their numbers were too small, two generals immediately returned home to bring even more reinforcements. The remaining general and his loyal troops battled their way through seemingly ever greater numbers of enemies, spread around a looming tower that grew nearer with every defeated enemy camp. The swamp was soon coloured crimson. Blood ebbed from the mortally wounded young recruits lying alongside the fallen hideous foes as the carnage continued relentlessly.

Returning generals with their hastily trained units joined the carnage as they drew ever closer to the spire. A wraithlike form suddenly sprang from out of nowhere, bolts of electricity crackling from withered hands, piercing cold blue emotionless eyes unflinching as many recruits writhed in agony unable to defend themselves against the deathly touch. Heavy blow after heavy blow rained down on the unholy spectre, nothing mortal could possibly withstand the attack, yet it was. Too many lives perished until a final anguished ear-splitting wail rang out from the ghoul as it eventually succumbed, leaving just a robe, losing all solid form before the wide-eyed survivors.

An ancient weathered tower was all that lay ahead, a fetid stench made men gag the nearer they drew towards it. Silently, enemies spewed out from within. Wild-eyed crazed men were followed by the corrupted followers of a dark church. A harmless looking old crone in tattered rags was the last mumbling something incoherent. Cavalrymen mounted their horses and began the attack whilst recruits brought up the rear hacking at anything that moved. Horses whinnied in fear and were slain along with their riders. Recruits were either ripped limb by limb by the enemy or trampled to death by panicking horses trying to flee the carnage. None survived.

Reservist generals and troops watched the bloody merciless massacre thought long and hard about retreating. “We need to kill the old hag! Her muttering was giving them all unnatural powers of survival,” a recruit said, “maybe she is a witch!” A general then spoke, “We can’t return home without one last try. Concentrate everything we have left at her, archers, cavalrymen, soldiers and recruits, once she falls we may have a chance.” The men readied for battle for the last time with a glimmer of hope in their hearts. Also knowing if they failed, nothing stood between these foes and their families back home.

Cavalry stampeded a brutal charge, crossbowmen rained down bolt after bolt and soldiers swung their mighty steel swords. The men gave it all they could as they hacked and slashed a path to the old crone. The muttering stopped as soon as the first blow struck, her presence weakened, many more followed until she lay prone with her dismembered followers strewn across the battlefield before her. She would have looked quite pathetic were it not for the malevolence in her eyes, the light within the orbs fading as she drew her ultimate breath.

Soldiers cleaned their weapons; archers salvaged bows; cavalrymen calmed their steeds before quietly beginning the return journey home. No one rejoiced, their losses were too great to enable them to celebrate the victory. They reached their ramshackle homestead in hushed silence. Few families hadn’t lost a father, a brother or a son, collectively they wept as they mourned their dead. The only light left in the settlers’ hearts was that the goal had succeeded, they were safe and the threat was eliminated.

A new day brought yet another cold harsh October morning. Foresters sowed tiny seeds where woodcutters had previously made a clearing, smiths hammered away at glowing hot metals, hunters stalked after unaware timid deer. Village life continued within the close knit community as it had for generations.

Just before midday another explorer returned bringing even more urgent tidings of yet more heinous beasts nearby. Yet again the townsfolk gathered, a decision was soon reached, they would up roots and move to somewhere less dangerous!

:p

Oh pumpkin what did you do
I started to crave and you turned to goo
With a sharp knife I did poke
Thinking I could crave was really the joke
Looking at my hand as it goes numb
Playing with the knife was truly dumb
I cut and I craved thought it would be fun
Lost so much blood someone call 9-1-1
I thought I could crave out the witch
I’m going to the hospital life is such a …….

THE WITCH’S CURSE

My fears have been realized, it couldn’t be worse,
The guild has been hit with a terrible curse

The witch from the swamp, who resides in the tower
Has conjured a spell with her Cauldron of Power

The goldmines are empty, the wells are too shallow
And the shiny new silos are leaving fields fallow

The guild house is haunted, all ties have been severed,
Our guild quests will stay in the menu forever

The witch has decreed that the curse won’t be lifted
‘Til guild members’ excess pumpkins have been gifted

‘Til the grim reaper’s stationed with every low level
All Halloween bounty remains with the devil

And should any guildie continue to balk
The pumpkins will grow arms and legs and just walk

The master named Eliot’s not here to beguile;
He’s what happens when dark magic visits your isle

The zombie buffs backfire and eat all your storage
The stables collapse and the horses must forage

Our troops may emerge from this horror alive,
But only together will the guild survive

Pine for us the most, with our colorful leaves, not even a boast, on all-hallows-eve, our punkins on-a-roast, should we believe , Sandy'll hit our coast ?

Nine wittle pumpkin patches
all in a row
3 went down
6 to go
Six wittle pumpkin patches
all in a row
3 went down
3 to go
Three wittle pumpkin patches
all in a row
3 went down
none to go

TWO OATHS


My Dearest Katherine,

I know it has been some time since I've written and I do apologize if I've worried you. We received our first mission a few weeks ago but we shipped out without a chance to send you a letter. I confess that the boat trip there was a little unnerving. I could not help but worry that my cavalry training would not be sufficient in the midst of an actual battle but those concerns seem silly now. Our foes were double-crossing bandits and we mowed them down like wheat in the fields. In fact, it was over so quickly that I had some pangs of remorse for the poor fellows. However, and I hope you won't think me callous for saying so, my pity for them only lasted until I received my share of the rewards.
My love, I know you were unhappy that I chose to join the military but I am certain now swearing my oath to the Queen’s service was the right choice. I may only be the second son of a lesser gentlemen but I will soon be able to ask your father for your hand in marriage and not be ashamed of my standing. In time we may even be able to afford one of those grand homes on the coast that you're always talking about.
I have more good news: in a few weeks we will be granted leave to return home for a few days. I cannot wait to see you again, my love.

Yours forever,
Michael

P.S. I keep your yellow hair ribbon wrapped around my wrist as a reminder of you. The other lads tease me but I believe it brings me luck.


**************

My Darling Michael,

It was so good to finally receive a letter from you. I was, as you said, quite concerned that I had not heard from you. I am so glad to hear that your first mission was a rousing success but my love, please do not endanger yourself needlessly to impress me. I do not need a fancy house on the coast. You must know that I would be just as happy with a cottage in the woods if I knew I could spend every day with you.
While you've been away we had a rather strange occurrence here. We woke one day to find our blue sky darkened and the lovely birdsong was replaced with eerie noises. It was all very frightening! Father's foreman came to the door to report that the fields were covered in an evil darkness. My father's frustration was evident but after seeing the fields he admitted that the labourers must remain idle until a solution was found. Just as we were about to head back inside, my cousin Andrew arrived with some strange lanterns. He and Father lit the lanterns over the fields and it was as though the sun had returned full force. The labourers returned to their task and were so productive that Father rewarded them with extra brew in the evening. Andrew said that the lanterns were made from special pumpkins that had appeared out of nowhere. It was all so surreal! The next day the blue sky returned to normal but we still have no birdsong. I wonder if they will ever return. I miss them but not nearly as much as I miss you! Oh Michael, I will be counting the hours until you arrive!

Lovingly yours,
Katherine

**************

My Sweet Katherine,

I only have a few moments to scribble this note. We leave shortly for a joint venture against some outlaws led by someone who calls himself Sir Robin. Unfortunately this means that my furlough has been postponed until we return. My fellows assure me that battles such as these always go well for the cavalry so do not worry yourself needlessly. I promise that I will see you soon.

Yours forever,
Michael


**************

My Beloved Michael,

I know it may be some time before you receive this but writing helps to ease my worries. It seems so strange to be going on with my normal life while you are out there somewhere fighting criminals and outlaws. So, if only to occupy myself, I will tell you about my recent days.
Father has added some silos to our lands. I had thought they were for storage but they seem to refill the fields. Father says it will keep costs down since the fields won’t need replacing so often. I never knew the fields were replaced before but then I know very little of what the labourers do out there.
Oh, speaking of replacements, one of the old residences was torn down and a new building was added in the village. They call it a school but it doesn't seem to have any students. We were in town for a few hours and I only saw one person leave this so-called school. I thought perhaps he was the teacher but I saw him later working at the new butcher shop. Ah well, perhaps I will have more to tell you about it when you've returned. I'm trying to wait patiently but I do miss you!

Always yours,
Katherine


**************

My Precious Katherine,

Those few short days with you were blissful but they were not enough. I miss you already! I still can't quite believe that your father has given me permission to marry you. I am the luckiest man in the world!
My friend James met me on the road back and he will be joining the Queen's Own Longbowmen. We will soon be heading out on a new mission. It seems that the Royal Geological Society is quite certain there is gold in the northeast. It's only being held by a few bandits so I'm sure we won't be there for long.
Hopefully we won't need to spend too much time with the recruits. We do seem to have a high casualty rate for the poor lads so perhaps I should have more compassion but these fellows are like zombies with their blank stares. James swears that he heard several of them moaning "Bread...bread...bread" the other night. I'm sure he's just having me on but they are rather unnerving.
Ah well, at least with James here I will have good company on the road for this trip and my heart will be filled with thoughts of our days together.

Yours forever,
Michael

**************

Dear Katherine,

It is with the deepest sorrow that I'm writing to inform you of the death of your beloved Michael. The general informs me that Michael fought bravely, though I doubt that will be of much consolation to you. There are murmurings around the camp that it was a suicide mission but I know that's not true. I am only telling you this in case you hear of it from someone later. Michael would never have gone into a battle if he knew there was no chance of returning to you. You were and always will be his beloved Katherine.

My deepest condolences,
James

**************

To the Lord Chamberlain,

The geological exploration in the northeast has been concluded. I found a total of five gold deposits that will be more than suitable for future mining endeavours.
Though I wished to inform you of the completion of the expedition, I’ve actually written to ask for your advice on the bizarre situation I currently find myself in. Please bear with me while I tell the tale.
One evening I had set up camp quite close to the mass grave that was prepared for the troops that died in that awful battle against Mary. This was of no concern to me as I long ago realized that dead men are buried everywhere we go. However, I awoke late that night to dogs barking and horses neighing. I came out of my tent to find a cloaked figure standing over the grave. It turned to me and I nearly fainted with shock to see a bare skull under its hooded cloak. It approached me and I could barely breathe. It raised a skeletal hand and I could just glimpse a soiled yellow hair ribbon wrapped around its wrist. It touched the soiled ribbon with a bony finger, "Her love keeps me here but I cannot return to her. I am dead but I cannot die. I swore to love. I swore to fight. Two oaths made but only one can I keep.” I waited but it didn't speak again. After some time it just walked away and disappeared into the darkness.
I went back to my tent and tried to sleep. In the morning I awoke and was certain it was a dream. But, as I packed up and began to ride away, the skeletal creature appeared at the edge of the camp mounted on a shadowy horse. It has been following me ever since. I have stopped at a small tavern and will await your instructions.

Respectfully,
Darius Welland
Royal Geologist

**************

Darius,

We shall, of course, expect your discretion in this matter. Bring this cloaked horseman to the barracks in Castletown. We shall find a use for this creature or we shall find a way to destroy it.
Her Majesty thanks you for your assistance. A reward for your services will be waiting at your home when you arrive.

Sincerely,
Charles Markent
Lord Chamberlain