Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Printable Version
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Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Admiral - 05-09-2015 06:31 AM
Scribe's Contest III - Visions of Doom, Chaos Dwarfs and the End Times
Just like the last couple of rounds, we had an amazing turn out of entries, with submissions detailing the bitter fate of the heinous Chaos Dwarfs in the dark End Times. The third Scribe's Contest had it all, from humour and cruelty to ambition and glimpses of dark secrets hidden away. It was great to see such excellent work written upon Dawi Zharr parchment! No doubt they were all written in slave blood upon Orc skin or carved into desecrated Effigies of Gork.
The voting was quite even, with votes distributed to most entries, which is not surprising given the quality of them all. This was a spectacular turn-out of entries.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, the winners!
Entry #5: TimothyLeighton (1st)
A Slight Return
The sound of Zharr-Naggrund’s great furnace exploding rang through Daemonsmith Hzzkad’s private chambers. It drowned out the howls of the Greenskin horde assailing the great capital. The demented screams of the K’daai unleashed from the bowls of the ziggurat in a final, desperate counter attack. And for a second it even obscured the crack of fireglaives coming from the corridor just outside, as the handful of Infernal Guard allocated to Hzzkad’s protection, made their doomed, final stand.
Hzzkad had barricaded himself in his chambers at the first sign of trouble. He had seen the end coming. Watching the skies through the thick clouds of toxic smoke that perpetually hung about Zharr Naggrund, he saw the subtle changes in the stars as the sickly sheen of chaos spread across the world. The Prophets dismissed his fears as weakness. Those same Prophets who were now in the grand chamber, desperately spilling the blood of their own Bull Centaur retinues in a hopeless attempt to summon Lord Hashut to save them in this dire hour. Hzzkad knew Hashut was not coming. He knew that the great capital would fall. Death did not scare Hzzkad. What came next terrified him.
Ignoring the sounds of battle Hzzkad stood facing the giant, polished plate of brass, screwed to the wall of his chambers. He saw his terrible reflection. The tiny horns protruding from his head. The twisted, stone stump where his left arm used to be. The single, grim tusk that erupted from his jaw causing his lips to loll open in a permanent sneer. Trophies of heresy. In his one good hand Hzzkad clutched a saw. Forged of base metals but sharpened to a surgical edge. He had used it many a time in the rituals. Sawing off the head of a still living sacrifice. Pain and terror spicing the blood for Hashut. Gritting his teeth Hzzkad began to saw at the first of the two horns. Part stone, part tissue every draw of the saw was burning agony. Hot, coppery blood poured down his face. But still he continued until with a wet, wrenching plop the horn fell to the ground. Hzzkad paused for breath. The pain worked him, exhausting every reserve he had. But he was not done. With grim determination Hzzkad hacked the second horn from his head. Blood gushed from his wounds, staining his face a slick crimson. Hzzkad inspected his reflection. He ran a hand across his smooth forehead. And in the midst of the pain he smiled.
Putting the saw down he turned to the other tools he’d gathered for this moment. Hzzkad picked up a pair of pliers, still mottled with the dry blood of whichever slave had been too quick to stumble or too slow to move. A slave just like the thousands who right now were exacting their well earned revenge on his fellow Dawi Zharr.
Hzzkad locked the pliers around the tusk protruding from his mouth and closed his eyes…
He pictured a cavern, lit by warm braziers. He heard singing and drunken boasts. He smelt meat roasting and ale, rich and hoppy. On the cavern walls he saw the shadows of comrades in celebration. Proud, boastful and true. A blood bond thicker than any incantation…
Hzzkad gripped the pliers and pulled as hard as he could.
The sound of a battering ram crashing against the door brought Hzzkad to consciousness. He lay on the floor, his mouth filled with blood, the ugly tusk lying beside him. There wasn’t much time left. Scrambling to his feet Hzzkad rushed to the sealed chest he kept in pride of place in his chambers. A chest without seams or joins. Even the mightiest giant could not pry it open. But with one touch from Hzzkad the lid gently lifted to reveal its secret.
Hzzkad lifted up the solid, double headed axe. He admired the runes upon it. Runes he could no more understand than he could alter the fate of Zharr-Naggrund. The doors were beginning to give way but Hzzkad was ready. His horns and tusk gone and in his hand an heirloom passed down through his bloodline for generations. A secret shame held by his kin. A reminder of a long forgotten past. As the doors began to splinter Hzzkad became aware of the corrupted, stone stump of his left arm. A final mark of guilt. With one mighty strike Hzzkad brought down the axe down on his deformed arm, shattering the limb in a hail of stone and blood. And finally, he was whole.
Axe in hand, a half remembered song about drink and kin and glory on his lips, as the horde outside surged through the doors, Hzzkad stood his ground and prepared to die like a dwarf.
Entry #14: Bloodbeard (2nd)
The Lead Casket
The mine had never been a silent place – but now it was silent. The mine wasn't a dark place – but now it was dark. For centuries slaves had toiled, lived and died down here. The Lead Casket, that was the name of the great mine with almost infinite lead veins. It had always been filled with the sound of hammering on stone, bodies breaking under heavy weight, slaves coughing up blood and dying to the bellowing screams of the Overseers. But now it was silent in the Casket. No longer did torches and corpsefires burn to light up the darkness of the mine.
The Dawi Zharr had been destined to chain the world and all other life should have been dominated by them. It was the will of Hashut and the will of the Dawi Zharr as a race. But their slow resolve and millinia long tactics had been too slow. The world was dying and not by the will of the Chaos Dwarfs.
Deep into the Lead Casket they had gone – gone to hide from an undefeatable enemy. Celestial bodies of poisonous green rock was raining down on The Dark Lands. They had been forced to hide and they were desperate – it was an unknown feeling to them.
The slaves had been driven towards the entry of the mine and the roof had been brought down, sealing the Casket and killing untold numbers of Greenskins and Men. Only a few slaves had been kept for the fires and marked as meat for the now starving Dawi Zharr.
Once again they were forced to the brink of extinction, once again they were forced to dig deep in search for salvation, trapped in a protecting Casket of Lead as the outside world was burned in the fires of The End Times.
Entry #13: Admiral (3rd)
Lament for Mingol Zharr-Naggrund the Great
In blackest sorrow we wail and tear our beards.
In deep despair we cry and pull our tusks.
In raw desperation we blind our eyes so that we cannot see.
Lo and behold, for the signs of doom have been seen,
listen and remember, for these dire portents will be true,
confirmed by tortured Daemons twelve, eight, sixty and fourteen,
and to halt tribe's demise there is nothing we can do.
Cruel fate wrought by Dark Gods did destine us for doom,
yet in olden days He delivered us from ancestors' final death,
greater powers let this cracking of anvils stand for tribe to bloom,
only to pull us down from pinnacle of might with gasping breath.
Hear raw cries of beasts and brutes born out of war,
see greatest works bred in tribe's dark ascendancy,
sense scoffing guffaw of the terrible Great Four,
smell rotten promises of our dependency.
What is this grim fate that we cannot escape?
What is this vile doom in which Chaos would us drape?
What is this end of the high Bull God's divine rape?
What is this death the Dark Gods for us all did shape?
When death incarnate rises from the grave,
when Everchosen unite Dark Gods' sacred hosts,
when victorious master is overthrown by slave,
when all creation on doomsday's fires roasts.
When bale moon die in thousand shards and fall upon our heads,
when the call of Dark Gods is answered by us in strong force,
when fertile consorts and kin lie slain and torn upon our beds,
then know that this marriage of Dark God and tribe was ever a divorce.
For the potent signs are clear, the high Bull of Fire will at long last fall,
and those mighty turned to stone will walk again to heed His call,
and we Blacksmiths of Chaos will break down mortals' strongest wall,
and we will arm and armour hosts of Dark Gods like a thrall,
and unholy power will lift us to heavenly Hashut's flaming hall,
and our blessed dark empire will be at its greatest ever sprawl,
and after ages of toil and war we'll reap the fruits of our long crawl,
yet those the Dark Gods wish to destroy they will not at first make small,
for we will conquer and be great, only to succumb to defilers' brawl,
what is this laugh of cruel and dark divinities that echo like a squall?
And we will wail in torment at Temple's sudden fall,
and its lament we will scrawl.
We will scrawl...
O, we will scrawl...
We thrice beseech thee, mighty one, let not this dark path of future come to be!
We will sacrifice our slaves and worldly possessions in front of thee!
We will give up anything to escape the Dark Gods' cruel glee!
We will bash our offspring's hard heads upon the scree!
We will cut our precious limbs to that destiny flee!
We will scorch our hides if thee so decree!
We will maul each precious knee!
We will offer thee this plea!
O, Hashut when on high...
Ancient Blood Grudge, was it settled...?
Woeful civil strife in Temple's halls...
The vengeful Hide of Iron nettled...
Already hear the beastly calls...
Was our sole purpose to forge and toil and fight?
For untold centuries to build thine worldly might?
For this did we forsake each Ancestor God's holy rite?
To rise through ashen hardships and vilest, blackest plight?
To praise thine name and to all the foul foes of Chaos smite?
To shed our blood and life to grip the Dark Lands tight?
To embrace darkness and let fire be our only light?
For price of damnation eternal in our souls' night?
For us to see but thee and then lose our sight?
Was our sole purpose to know the fearful warlord's brutish bite?
Is this an insane scheme of Tzeentch's fiendish double-mind?
Or just a feverish nightmare in bloody Khorne's eternal grind?
Perhaps a heap of lies fallen out of Nurgle's cursed behind?
Or just a druggened haze in Slaanesh's pleasures blind?
And what is this fifth Dark God that rise to greatness find?
Horns and cloven hooves, but this vermin did us never bind...
Merciless master, would you these visions have us believe?
Are they our future reality, or but bale Daemons' false dreams?
Cast in doubt, not iron, may these visions ever see their eve?
Or will creation wail and come apart at its very seams?
O, high Hashut...
Great is the fall of Zharr-Naggrund...
- Temple Acolyte dirge
1st Place - Gold Scribe Winner: Entry #5 - TimothyLeighton
2nd Place - Silver Scribe Winner: Entry #14 - Bloodbeard
3rd Place - Siver Scribe Winner: Entry #13 - Admiral
And an honourable mention to each of Entries #6 - Miasma - #11 - Bitterman - #12 - Fuggit Khan - and #16 - Dînadan! (All of whom trailed Bronze by one vote.)
The Entry Key!
You can share your love for each entry (found here) by donating slaves to the owners of the entries!
01 - Skink
02 - Abecedar
03 - Herby
04 - George_van_Horst
05 - TimothyLeighton
06 - Miasma
07 - Roark
08 - Doombeard
09 - DAGabriel
10 - MadHatter
11 - Bitterman
12 - Fuggit Khan
13 - Admiral
14 - Bloodbeard
15 - torn
16 - Dînadan
Slaves and medals are incoming! If you wonder how many votes your entry received, PM me.
And now for the Gold prize, one unpainted model of Titan Wargames! There will be one prize of the unpainted miniature of Marrog Blackhand, sponsored by Titan Wargames:
The winner will be contacted shortly via PM or E-mail.
A big "thanks" to everyone who participated and voted, as well as a big thanks to Titan Wargames for providing the prize!
Can't wait to see the entries in the blogs of everyone who entered. Also, please post them as new threads in the Stories and Background section of the CDO Forums.
That concludes the third instalment of Scribe's Contest. It is a most valuable addition to the growing mass of Chaos Dwarf and Hobgoblin culture texts accumulated on CDO. Well done, everyone! This was a high watermark among Scribe's Contests.
Stay tuned for a big Artisan's Contest around the corner.
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Dînadan - 05-09-2015 06:41 AM
Congrats to the winners.
Missed third by one vote? Damn, knew I should have given out bigger bribes!
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - TimothyLeighton - 05-09-2015 06:45 AM
Thanks for the votes and congrats to everyone who entered for making it so much fun. I love how reading all the different entries makes me think slightly differently about my Chaos Dwarf army.
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - DAGabriel - 05-09-2015 06:49 AM
Congratz to the winners as well as the the unlucky forth placed.
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Miasma - 05-09-2015 10:07 AM
Congratulations to the Final Three, and wow 1 Vote separated 5 writers. Truly amazing. Also thanks to all those who voted for my entry
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Bloodbeard - 05-09-2015 04:19 PM
This was a great competition! And a silver medal - I had not expected that (I've stopped expecting anything but 4th place a long time ago).
The winner was my absolute favourite. It touched me the most of all the texts. The winning text clearly shows, that there's a Vanilla dwarf hiding inside many of us. Such a heretical text!
I hope to see such a high number of entrants in future SCs as well. Onw day will compile it all in a giant tome of Dawi Zharr stories.
Now get ready for the upcomming Artisan's Contest - it's gonna be a big one!
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Dînadan - 05-09-2015 04:48 PM
Such a heretical text!
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Abecedar - 05-09-2015 10:26 PM
It was another enjoyable distraction from painting.
Well done everyone.
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Roark - 05-10-2015 06:06 PM
Worthy winning entries! Well done.
RE: Scribe's Contest III - Winners! - Fuggit Khan - 05-11-2015 01:29 PM
Congratulations to the well deserved winners
And I'm quite happy to see that my favorite won Gold...an incredibly creative story, I loved the idea that there is a bit of good in all of us (even if it's a dark family secret)
I'm sending slaves to you sir