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Stillron

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  1. Great story, it's clear that you put a lot of work into it. I like the fact that the protagonist is more of a grey character, he's not the traditional good-hearted hero and he's so obsessed with killing Snorlar that he ends up becoming a monster-like creature himself (literally but maybe metaphorically too?) but at the same time he still seems to care about other people. Also, I really liked the final battle, the way you described it is really cool and the Animagi transfiguration stuff makes it more interesting, I really enjoyed reading it!
  2. Character's name: Stillron Server: EU-Emerald We noticed the first signs on the last days of spring: that’s when we realised that something had changed. That time of the year the weather was usually mild to allow our crops to grow, instead we were hit by the strongest snowstorm in decades. Borea had always been a cold and harsh place but this was nothing like we had ever seen before and we knew that our world would soon become uninhabitable. As time went by the situation got worse: the snow fell without respite on our barren land, the animals we usually hunted were starving and so were we. We were suffering from a terrible famine and our people were dying. My mother was sick and she and my little sister needed food: that’s why I decided to join the army, so that I could share with them the rations of food that soldiers received. Even our fearless leader, Kronus, who was usually so impassive, seemed perturbed. The people were getting restless and he knew that he had to act quickly or else all would be lost. One day he finally left his palace to talk to us, his powerful army. I was still a young girl back then and I had never seen him up close. It was a terrifying sight: I couldn’t help but tremble as I saw this enormous scarlet dragon approaching. He walked towards us slowly, causing the ground to shake at his every step and exhaling hot smoke that melted the snow he walked upon. He finally spoke and his deep voice resonated like the sound of thunder: “As you know our world is facing unprecedented trouble. The weather is cruel, the crops are scarce and this land can no longer feed our people. But fear not, I have found a solution to our problems. We must leave this land and conquer a new world: Arinar. Its inhabitants are weak and primitive creatures and our great army will defeat them easily. We will enslave them and dominate their world.” Kronus was sure that the people of Arinar wouldn’t pose a real threat to us: he underestimated them and that was the beginning of our downfall. We all knew that the reason our world was dying was the dark magic that Kronus used to prolong his life and stay in power, but we couldn’t question his orders and so we prepared to leave our homes and fight in a foreign land. Of course we were all scared and we didn’t know how we would get there, but Kronus had already found a way: he used his ancient magic to create a labyrinth, a secret passage between Borea and Arinar. He believed that we would cross it unnoticed and take our enemies by surprise, but things didn’t go as planned. He was still recovering from the incredible amount of energy he had used to create the labyrinth and our army was weak from hunger and marched slowly. We spent days in that hellish labyrinth, struggling to keep ourselves awake as our leader screamed at us to keep walking. In the meantime the people of Arinar were alerted to our presence and they got ready to fight. We didn’t even have the chance to see the blue skies of Arinar or breathe the warm summer air that we had long been dreaming about. Their army was waiting for us at the end of the labyrinth and it was the biggest one we had ever seen. Kronus had assured us that the different tribes of Arinar were at war with each other but apparently the threat that we represented was enough for them to come together: the highlanders and the elves fought together side by side, united by a common enemy. It was a ferocious battle and so much blood was shed on both sides. Kronus opened his powerful wings and breathed fire upon our enemies but we were trapped inside the labyrinth and even he couldn’t fly far. We soon realised that we were doomed: in front of us stood an army of skilled warriors and behind us was an intricate maze that led to a dying world. As the warriors fought and held us back, their warlocks cast an ancient spell created by the first dragon hunters and placed a terrible curse on us all. Suddenly Kronus’s mighty wings closed as he let out a terrible shriek and fell on the ground. He was in chains, trapped and doomed to let the astral parasites feed on his insides for all eternity, as we, his minions, stand by his side. The curse created a connection between Kronus and the astral labyrinth: if he dies the labyrinth will disintegrate and so will the two worlds that it connects. From that moment on our entire existence has been devoted to protecting the monster that is responsible for our ruin in order to preserve the balance of the worlds and avoid the destruction of Borea and Arinar. To this day brave warriors from Arinar venture into the labyrinth and fight us: they think that we are mindless minions but, even though we are trapped, we are aware of everything that’s happening and we are still able to think and feel. Sometimes I dream of my home in Borea and I imagine that it’s a beautiful place now that Kronus can’t corrupt it anymore. I dream that the crops grew back and that my family is alive and well. I think of my mother’s warm smile as she watches my little sister play in the fields. I dream of the rain and the sun and the sweet smell of honey that fills the air of the summer days. That is how I find the strength to accept this terrible punishment, to stand here and watch over Kronus, the heartless tyrant who led me towards this horrible fate. I know that I am giving my life for my family and for countless others who will never know my name or my sacrifice.
  3. Thanks! And yes, it is pretty dark Thank you!
  4. Character's name: Stillron Server: EU-Emerald Lorn held Ben's hand tight. A cold wind was blowing. A wind of death. As a skilled shaman, she could recognise the signs: a terrible war was coming, as bloody and violent as the legendary War of the Spear. During the seven years of war there had been many battles, but this one was going to be different. This time they wouldn’t fight for glory, they would fight for the life of every person in the clan. If they lost this battle then they also lost their territories, the lands that fed their people, their homes. Ben smiled at her reassuringly. “You haven’t completed your training yet, it’s too dangerous”, she told him. “I have to fight, I can't stand by as the Sentinels take our lands. Besides, if I do get hurt, I know you'll save me. You're the best healer I've ever met”. A knight walked past them. A shiver ran down their spines. His armour was black and his face emotionless. “He's one of them, isn't he?”, asked Ben. “Yes, he's a death knight”. “That's the most heartless thing anyone could ever do. Taking a soul away from its resting place. I would rather die a million times than live for a second as that creature. I can't believe our faction is allowing this”. “It's those necromancers, they're poisoning everyone's mind”. “Have you seen their magic? It's not like yours, it's corrupted. No good can come of it”. A horn was blown. The enemies were coming. Death was coming. Lorn was looking for something to say to talk Ben out of it, but as soon as their eyes met she knew that no words could change his mind. All she could do was watch over him. The commanders were screaming instructions. “DEFEND. STAND YOUR GROUND”, they screamed at the top of their lungs. The soldiers, mostly barbarians, marched to meet the enemies at the border. Where were their new allies, the Forsaken? As much as it pained her to admit it, they needed their help. In all the chaos Lorn lost sight of Ben. Arrows started falling from the sky and in front of them was the biggest army they had ever seen. Screams of pain, courage and fear filled the wintery air. Lorn was casting powerful spells to hit enemies and heal allies, but at the same time her eyes were constantly looking for Ben. Suddenly she saw three arrows coming towards her. She raised her staff but she was exhausted: the bolt of lightning she summoned only stopped one and she couldn't cast fast enough to stop the other two. Her past life and the future she had imagined with Ben flashed in front of her eyes: she knew death was coming. Suddenly a shield appeared in front of her and stopped the arrow from hitting her. Someone had saved her, it was Ben! She opened her eyes but her relief soon turned into despair as she saw that the third arrow had hit her lover's heart. She started casting a healing spell at once, using all of her remaining energy in a vain attempt to save him, but there was no more life in his eyes. She didn't even have the strength to scream: exhausted, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. She woke up hours later. She looked around the battlefield: the snow that covered it was red as the blood that was shed that day. Her hands looked for Ben's body but it wasn't there, someone had taken him from her, again. She got up and started running towards the camp. There she saw Ben's body, a necromancer was standing over it whispering something. “Stop!”, she screamed, horrified, but it was too late. Ben's body stood up and faced her. His blue eyes had turned black and his warm smile was replaced by a cold stare. She looked around and saw that they were doing the same thing to every soldier, they were resurrecting them, using their bodies as hosts of darkness. She finally understood: that's why the Forsaken disappeared right before the battle and didn't fight alongside the Mountain Clans, they wanted as many of them as possible to die so that they could turn them into death knights. “We had to do this”, said a stony-faced necromancer. “We were never going to win, the forces of the Sentinels and the Mountain Clans are equal. We had to eliminate your weaknesses, to replace love with hatred, in order to turn the scale in our favor. With this new undead army we can finally take over Irselnort and end the War”. Lorn's heart was beating fast, a million thoughts were going through her mind, among them Ben's last words. She couldn't let his body be used like that, she had to lay it to rest, that's what he would have wanted. She felt so sad and desperate, but above all she felt rage. The ground started shaking and the snow turned into rain. A deafening bolt of lightning hit Ben's body, which fell to the ground at once. The earthquake stopped and Lorn kneeled down to caress Ben's face. His eyes were blue again but his skin was cold and his heart completely still. She looked at the necromancer wrathfully and spoke: “Now that you have discovered how to cheat death, the War will never end. You have doomed the inhabitants of this island to an eternity of pain and fighting. You are responsible for the blood that was shed today as well as the blood that will be shed in countless future battles for territory. One day all of Arinar will know what you did today. As they march to meet their fate, waving bloody banners, scared of losing their lives and even more of losing their souls, they shall stop to curse you for robbing them of their future as you have robbed me of mine”. Then she picked Ben's body up, holding it tight in her arms as she turned around and walked away to lay it to rest far away from that cursed land. No one tried to stop her, no one could. It is told that she returned to the snowy mountains of Godgorrath, patiently waiting for the day when she'll make good on her promise.
  5. Myrnar was once an angelic creature, a muse whose beautiful voice bewitched every fortunate listener: that, along with immortality, was the gift she had received from the gods in reward for her extraordinary kindness. One tragic day Sam Hain crossed her path: he soon realised how powerful and naive the muse was and hatched a plan to take advantage of that. He told her about a poor village, in a land called Arinar, whose children suffered from a terrible condition: inexplicable pain and sorrow made it impossible for them to do anything but lie in bed crying. The muse was deeply touched and decided to visit the village and sing her most beautiful and powerful song to try and comfort the children. As soon as her voice started to echo through the streets, the villagers gathered to listen to it forgetting whatever they were doing. Meanwhile, Sam Hain and his wicked minions entered the village without encountering any resistance, for all the guards had left their posts. As they set fire to the first house, the muse’s voice started to change becoming less and less godlike. Suddenly the villagers realised what was happening, but it was too late: Sam Hain and his small army burned the village to the ground killing every living being in it. Myrnar desperately tried to save them but she was now a mere mortal. Still she threw herself at Sam Hain himself, who burst into laughter. “Thanks to you this land will host my Horror Circus: this village, stained by innocent blood and deceit, is the perfect place to celebrate all that is foul and wicked. You helped me do harm, though unaware, and for that you lost your powers. I only spare you so that you can discover how bitter and cold a mortal existence can be” he said cruelly. “You shall pay for this, Sam Hain!” she cried as he walked away, unable to recognise her own voice. After that horrible day, Myrnar spent every second of her mortal life plotting revenge, haunted by the screams of despair of the villagers. She knew that she needed to gain exceptional strength in order to kill Sam Hain, so she began to study dark magic and became a powerful and dreadful sorceress. As she grew stronger she also became more and more frightening: her once kind eyes became red and devilish, her long hair black as coal, her face hollow-cheeked and pale as the moon and her teeth long and sharp. Her voice became piercing and strident and her shriek could stun an army. She was no longer godlike nor human: she could conjure an acid rain that would burn the thickest skin and summon demonic creatures, such as fire-breathing gargoyles and golems that made the ground tremble. She could even heal so quickly that she might appear immortal to her enemies, but she could no longer feel pity or joy. She was finally ready to take revenge, but before that she needed to perform one last spell, the most atrocious of them all: she would summon the soul of every villager Sam Hain had killed that day many moons ago, ripping them from their eternal resting place and corrupting them forever so that they could all take vengeance on him. As she recited the spell, reaching the height of her powers and irreversibly blackening her soul, the skies darkened and deafening thunder tried to drown out her voice. “Sam Hain, you shall finally pay for what you did. I am coming for you!” she screamed at the sky, louder than thunder, as hundreds of vicious ghosts gathered around her, their eyes red like fire, ready to bring about death and chaos and take back the land they once inhabited, Arinar. Character’s name: Stillron Server: EU-Emerald
  6. Thank you for your comment! I really enjoyed writing it
  7. Thank you so much! Congratulations to the other winners and all the other awesome writers! By the way I'm a she
  8. I’m glad you liked my idea In my imagination the shamans who became breath-catchers naively tried to exploit the dark magic of Ravva’s Breath, they ended up being corrupted by all this power and now they’re trapped: it could either be a physical trap caused by the magic stream or a psychological one. In the latter case attacking people could also be a way to protect their power from anyone who might take it from them. So I guess that for lack of other solutions the only way for them to be free is death… who doesn’t like a tragic ending?
  9. I was raised by a clan of highlanders, hearing tales of great shamans powerful enough to cause earthquakes and to strike enemies with bolts of lightning. I decided to devote myself to the art of healing and magic and I strove to become a strong shaman like the ones I had heard so much about. Then came the time to test my abilities in a new and strange land called Norlant Swamps. Armed with a not so powerful staff but a lot of courage and determination, I ventured into this new adventure, moving through strange and random teleports. I discovered that this island was inhabited by odd and unfriendly creatures, that could kill me in one fell swoop. I encountered armed colourful frogs, annoying baby dragons and a worryingly high number of abducted creatures, while bizarre characters encouraged me to desecrate greedy men’s tombs and destroy ancient cultural heritage such as fire-breathing columns. As I ran through this hostile land, described by its own inhabitants as “a stinking swamp”, envying those who could make themselves invisible to rob weird blue blob-like creatures and to escape enraged living towers, I wondered whether I was really up to this gruelling task. Inured by the malodorous air of the swamps, I optimistically kept trying until I was beset by a doubt: were the gods of this island against me? Just when I was about to give up and go back to my dearly beloved mountains, defeated and humiliated, a wise man (or a mad one, it’s sometimes hard to tell them apart) suggested that I visited an old shaman and so I did. This sorcerer was unlike anyone I had ever met before, as powerful as the heroes of ancient epic tales but definitely not as well dressed. His dark penetrating eyes stared at me as a shiver ran down my spine. He seemed to know why I was there: he handed me a magic stone, promising that no creature would ever defeat me again. He warned me that I had to be willing to pay a price, but I didn’t listen to him, confident that no price would be too high to become a legend of Arinar. As I held the stone in my hands, reciting an ancient spell, I inhaled Ravva’s breath and I felt a strange power taking control of my body. My mind was clouded and corrupted by the dark magic that flowed around me: as I stepped into the magic stream I realised that I had made a big mistake, but it was too late. I was trapped, doomed to spend the rest of my days as a breath-catcher in these stinking swamps and I would never breath the fresh air of the mountains again.
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