Monthly Writing Competition : The Elder Scrolls Series Discussion

» Fri May 04, 2012 8:00 am

Damn right.

I second this movement.

» Fri May 04, 2012 6:58 am

I'd volunteer to serve as an impartial party, though.

I'm cool with it so long as I get your share of the cupcakes.

» Fri May 04, 2012 3:33 am

I'm cool with it so long as I get your share of the cupcakes.

Hahaha, have at it.

» Thu May 03, 2012 6:56 pm

I'm cool with it so long as I get your share of the cupcakes.

this isn't a bank robbery in The Dark Knight. One less share. I second/third/fourth the notion

» Fri May 04, 2012 5:42 am

this isn't a bank robbery in The Dark Knight. One less share. I second/third/fourth the notion

Oh yea! I come up with the best ideas.

» Fri May 04, 2012 6:18 am

this isn't a bank robbery in The Dark Knight. One less share. I second/third/fourth the notion

You know what they say: The best way to eliminate the middleman is to eliminate the middle man

» Fri May 04, 2012 9:55 am

Funny thing... I was told something similar...

» Fri May 04, 2012 3:02 am

this isn't a bank robbery in The Dark Knight. One less share. I second/third/fourth the notion

Did I ever tell you how I got these scars?

» Fri May 04, 2012 1:13 am

Did I ever tell you how I got these scars?

My wife told me I needed to smile more...

» Fri May 04, 2012 6:29 am

No, I just tripped. It really, really hurt!

You guys are just twisted!

» Fri May 04, 2012 1:21 am

I thought your father was an angry drunk...

» Thu May 03, 2012 8:41 pm

I thought your father was an angry drunk...

He has a different story each time, we really need to get back on topic...

» Fri May 04, 2012 9:50 am

He has a different story each time, we really need to get back on topic...

Indeed.

And honestly, if I am going to have a past, I'd prefer it to be multiple choice!!!

» Fri May 04, 2012 9:12 am

Everyone done with the derailment now?

» Fri May 04, 2012 12:45 am

Everyone done with the derailment now?

I was hoping we could bring Harley Quinn into the discussion, but fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine, have it your boring, mod-friendly way.

» Fri May 04, 2012 9:06 am

Yes, yes indeed.

» Fri May 04, 2012 9:00 am

Right then, seeing as it has been requested, anybody who would like to submit anonymously can PM with their entry and I will post it here in the thread, make sure you enclose some sort of title.

» Thu May 03, 2012 8:00 pm

Right then, seeing as it has been requested, anybody who would like to submit anonymously can PM with their entry and I will post it here in the thread, make sure you enclose some sort of title.

But wont you be voting?

» Fri May 04, 2012 12:47 am

But wont you be voting?

Well, considering there's three other judges I'm not sure if I'm going to be needed. Also I think I can manage to be impartial enough to vote.

» Fri May 04, 2012 1:59 am

You think you can or can't be ?

» Fri May 04, 2012 1:31 am

You think you can or can't be ?

He can, I think it'll be fine. But I dunno what others will think.

» Thu May 03, 2012 10:33 pm

You think you can or can't be ?

Well considering there is nothing to judge yet the point is mute, I guess it would save hassle if I don't judge to prevent people thinking we're biased.

» Thu May 03, 2012 11:09 pm

ok then.

it'll be easier since we'll be with three meaning there can't be a tie. (if I'm correct. )

» Thu May 03, 2012 11:28 pm

Well considering there is nothing to judge yet the point is mute, I guess it would save hassle if I don't judge to prevent people thinking we're biased.

*moot
I can't write anything for this one, sorry.

» Thu May 03, 2012 7:40 pm

Right then our first entry has arrived.

Ancient Times: Legacy of the Hunters

OOC: The following story will be pretty graphic, so read at your own risk. The concepts of blood and battle, six and rituals will be explored and carefully explained. Though there is much more than than to be told, I assure you. I just wish this tail is authentic for the audiences. I also wanted to explore a time unknown which is fertile enough for me to write. Ingame lore books hint at the ancient times, so I will try to abide heavily upon it.

****

Prologue: Morning Glory

This tale transpired a very long time ago in history, in a time unknown to most. It is already over. There is nothing that can be done to change it. It is a legend of love and loss, survival and death, self-doubt and realization. Life and sacrifice. It is a legend of the blurred line between the best and the worst of natures. Between instinct and intuition. It is a legend of the conclusion of a time. And the birth of a legacy.

The peculiar thing about legends, is, though all of it happened in a time ago, so vast through the years that words could not explain the time or the distance, it is happening this moment. Right here. It is happening as you read these words. This is how a preliterate age comes to an end. Infighting and tribal warfare has been rooted since the dawn of these aboriginal groups, with religion and morality guiding each of them in their separate ways. This is not just the end of a people, darkness is falling on history itself. This is the eventide of the ancient ones.
　
The Merethic Era, Ancient Skyrim.

Morning graced the land of Tamriel. The shining splendor of Magnus illuminated the mountain peaks and the forested areas, as well as the skies, granting the grass moisture with the dew of the starting hours of that day. Birds sang melodies as they flew gracefully over the sky, as the creatures of the wilderness joined in with a cacophony of music.

A young man Denumanae crouched down beneath the bushes and shrubs, along with a company of other twenty other hunters following in his wake. They were armed and ready. Wooden spears in hand, a bow tied to their backs, and a knife hanging from a belt made of animal skin. They were prepared for a hunt.

Though they were anxious to begin, they knew not all of them would survive this hunt. For the prey was no base game. They prey could run as a an animal, bite as a beast, but they had thing that most creatures did not; understanding. The quarry could speak, for it was Man. Warriors as fierce as they were, and just as deadly.

Ahead, across the large river, was a rival tribe of indigenous men and women. For some time now, they had been blamed for a great many problems happening in the land. Storms, rains, lack of plentiful food. For they have used forbidden knowledge, tapping into to ancient magic’s. It was forbidden, at least for Denumane’s tribe. Though he highly doubted they were truly the reason there was little food to hunt. They are not the cause of our problems, he thought.

“We’ve angered the Spirits.” Denumanae said in his native tongue, a whispered tone as he gazed around the environment. “The Horned One frowns upon us. He curses the land by suppressing the animals the forest provides."

“We must make Him smile,“ one reminded the group. “The Elders say sacrifices would please Him.”

Denumanae understood that the Elders were widely respected and loved. Their insight was often praised, and their wise words always heard, and seldom ignored. Their wisdom proved valuable time and time again. From simple offerings of blood and dirt to visions of the future, they never strayed from foresight. There was even a tale bespoken by one of the elders about the land being invaded by white-skinned and heavily bearded men that would one day come to fight the pointed-ear ones. It is said that they will arrive from across the frozen waters in large houses that floated on sea and were guided by tall birdlike wings. But not everything they said happened right away. It could take years, perhaps centuries, for their words to come to pass.

This hunt would be his Rite of Passage. As the second son of the Chief himself, he would be granted privilege to prostrate himself before thehttp://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20111203204361/elderscrolls/images/5/54/Tof.jpg if he proves himself worthy at the eyes of the Horned One. And in doing so, he would be granted the blood of the wolf, just as the ancient ones had! Everyone doubted him, but he knew he would please the demon. This is my day, he thought. Or so, he wished.

“Let us hope.” Denumanae said.

The others all nodded in agreement. Each of them bathed and oiled in preparation for this hunt. Much like Denumanae, these men bore long black hair which fell past their shoulders. Their bodies were covered in an everlasting black ink attached to their skin. Tribal markings of predators were depicted on their backs. Denumanae himself had two wolves on each of his shoulders, and an arrow-head along his back The revered animal of the tribe. His tattoos also were along his chest, black dots which sparse out to the bottom of his neck that morphed into spike-like fingers that spread a bit further near his jugular.

As they continued stalking the large and great forest, their leader told the archers to spread out and go around the river, to catch the opposing village off guard. The ones who carried spears and bone-knives would simple swim across the waters to catch them off-balance as they slept.

Across the flowing water, stood the slumbering village. The entire establishment was set upon fertile ground, perched nearby a large lake. That lake's deepest edges had no true borders or banks. Its murky, undrinkable waters were just glimpsed off from a distance, all over, connecting into a dark swampland. Those treacherous marshes spewed forth night mists and parasitic insects and maybe even malevolent spirits.

The group set out, each spreading as a pack of wild wolves to corner their prey. The more able warriors submerged themselves into the cold flowing river, doing their best to avoid sound as they swam forth to reach the other side of the clearing. Denumanae knew that the opposing tribe was considered fearsome and evil, and were the start of an age-old conflict between his people and their own. He held no qualms about what he was about to do, nor was anyone else in his hunting team.

Finally, they had reached the shores of the other side of the river. Each of the warriors spreading out to surround and trap the village. Denumanae ran swiftly to hide behind a tree, peeking past it to glimpse the huts for closer inspection. Indeed, they were all asleep. As a scout reported a day ago, they were part of a celebration which lasted the entire night. They drank mind- altering juices and engaged in strenuous dancing. Most, if not, all of them were exhausted and would be easy to capture.

As the archers reached the territory, everything was set in motion. Save for one thing; his orders. Their leader, Denumanae, had to give his word. And for a moment, he seemed to freeze. Black eyes gazing into nothingness before he met the stares of his companions. He was now utterly focused. Flanked on each of his sides, were a group of hunters. One row on each of his sides, all awaiting his command.

He nodded slightly, waving his hand to one group whilst spreading his fingers. Those with the proper nets and portable snares were sent in first. The second group waited in the silence of the forest, lighting their torches to light the village aflame once the sufficient amount of enemies were captured. As they prepared to begin their assault, Denumanae remained behind to prepare himself more thoroughly. He left his travel pack behind in exchange for his war club, made of sharpened stone and animal bone. His wooden spear and his knife, which was getting far too old to be used in such an important task. As he was finished, he closed his eyes tightly. He muttered a silent prayer. Let this be my chance to prove myself to my father and the Elders, he begged silently as he went in to join the others.