Tales of the Dead 4 - Contest Entry Thread

ZOS_GinaBruno

It looks like the wilds of Tamriel are just as dangerous as ever. We've come upon yet another strange scene in our travels, and you know what that means! It's time for us to get cozy while you tell us a tale. If you come up with one of our favorite stories about how this grim tableau came to be, we have prizes for you!

Take a look at our macabre screenshot below, and then create your own fictional entry (in 500 words or less) that describes what happened here. You can write a short story, a journal entry, or any other kind of fictional text. When you're all done—don't forget to count the words— post it in this thread.

We'll start accepting entries today, March 30th, and will close the contest this Friday, April 3rd at 11:59PM EDT. If you're one of our three winners, you'll receive a $25 electronic gift certificate to the Bethesda Store and a code for your very own Bristlegut Piglet pet!

Farce-Eyed

It was a sunny Monday morning, when from the shadows came ..... MAINTENANCE! The down time was only a matter of hours, but it felt like eons.

Roechacca

Oh that's just a group of EP that were trying to learn to use the Bow like Us DC . The william tell apple shot test went bad then the other dude got mad and was all WTF ? N I ganked Em while they were arguing over snipe being OP .



-Fin

joschwab3ub17_ESO

There was once two lads that were great adventures. They were powerful and strong, smart and cunning. One day a guard had warned them that being adventurous can also be dangerous. He told them "I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow in the knee." The boys scoffed at the gaurd and said nothing could ever defeat them. One night the two boys were camped on a hill top having some fun (shooting apples off each other heads), when the gaurd they laughed at came killed them both. That gaurd was the Dovahkiin.

Kalman

Me and a couple of friends were practicing our bow skills shooting at a target. Then we got hungry so I made some baked potatoes. My friends said they smelled like crap and threw them on the ground. I lost my temper, kicked over the target we were shooting at, and killed both my friends. A dark but moral wizard happened so see the whole thing and turned me into an immortal Ogre that can do nothing buy ponder on why I killed my friends for all eternity.

MissyMad

Journal A
Entry 1
We’ve been hunting these Ogres for what seems like months now. I think the tales were tall and false. We haven’t seen a single trace of an Ogre. I just wanted to bring back one of their heads to impress my dear sweet Dahlia. There’s nothing a woman likes more than a disgusting foul smelling Ogre head mounted on her wall!
Entry 2
My brother has come up with such a game to pass the time. I can’t believe we haven’t thought of it before. Mother sent us off with raisin buns as hard as stones, they’ve been at the bottom of our packs for days. What better idea than to practice our manly warrior skills on such items!
Entry 3
Yet another day with no sign of the beasts. My brother is better with that old bow he stole from our mother then I thought. I’ve bet him silver that he can’t shoot a single apple a top my head. Ha! This should be fantastic. At least I’ll come back to my sweet with heavier pockets.

Journal B
Entry 1
I’ve alas come all this way with my fool hearted brother so he could bring a trophy back to his child hood love. I’m afraid that our restlessness in these mountains has been his demise. No one could have seen that butterfly coming. It landed so silently on the tip of my arrow. Fearsome critters these butterflies are. I don’t know if anyone will understand how I fear them so. Certainly not my brother.
Entry 2
I’m terrified to go back to our estate and tell my mother and brothers’ love what has occurred in these woods. My brother is dead because of me. Maybe if I continue our quest and bring back the trophy he came for, I can tell them that he was killed battling the monster.
Entry 3
The beasts have appeared not far from camp! I can’t believe my luck. Perhaps they were drawn out by the smell of my kin, stuck to this tree on my doing. Divines have truly looked down upon me today. I must ready my sword to sever the head of the beast and return home, a hero.
Entry 4
I am… dying I believe. I took up my blade, there was a butterfly on the hilt, flapping it's disgusting wings at me. I've heard they spread poisons and disease that way. I've stumbled upon an empty mug that my brother and I drank ale from before we undertook our games. I do believe that I’ve impaled myself... At least there will never be any implication of what became of my dear brother.

Apparently the Ogres were drawn to mothers’ raisin buns. They seem to find them quite tasty.

Ssalaar

MacFazza’s wondrous oddities was a delightful circus show that each year proved to be different. This year was the typical archery demonstrations, feats of magic, and jugglers that they also had a domesticated giant that speaks like a high elf. Some of the farming families would come from miles just to see them.
The circus had a tough time coming in through Skywatch port. The dock master was not present and Grumpus was upset that his well-paid bribe was going to be paid again to the underling that didn’t get the message. They finally settled and made their way north. A few of the Guar were not able to help pull their weight as they got seasick and they needed the giant to pull his weight. He was fine as long as the mage kept his spell on him. They setup in a long meadow with the mountains behind them to afford some protection from the elements. It would be a week for them to get rid of the sea legs and practice to refine their skills. Occasionally they attracted a small crowd of kids to watch the daily activity. Some kids were nice, others were there to stir trouble with the animals or the people.
Young Johnny just got off shift and was walking back to the farm when he spotted Areylin as she walked. He fancied her and ran to catch up. As they made small talk, the faint sound of music could be heard. Areylin wanted to see the circus folks and Johnny trudged on behind her like an obedient puppy. They soon came upon the troupe as the performers played music while the archers were practicing shooting at targets and other feats. Johnny was not happy as Areylin eyed the young strapping Elven archer and decided to taunt him to see if he would mess up. This worked against him as the archer saw the pretty elven lass and wanted to impress her. He had his buddy stand against a tree and was going to shoot an apple off his head. Having done this in the past, they were confident and even blindfolded the archer. They wanted to woo Areylin with the excitement and let two arrows fly coming close to the body but missing as they embedded into the tree. What they didn’t count on was young Johnny throwing a potato as he was about to fire. This caused the shot to go astray and a silent scream was never heard as his partner died pin to the tree. Areylin fainted at the sight.
As Areylin awoke from the clatter she could not believe the horror before her. It appeared as if the whole place was attacked. What she didn’t know is the archer tried to avenge his friend and killed the mage that was controlling the giant. The giant went and killed all around him and claimed the area as his own. Areylin snuck away. There was no Circus that year.
MacFazza’s Folly 513

Psychotius

Alas, such a cruel jest that the gods brought onto us. My compatriot and I were about our travels, exploring the majesty of the lands of Tamriel. Such a lovely adventure should have never needed like this, but fate is sometimes a foul beast of distasteful humor. Our wagon unloaded, our lean-to setup, and our bedrolls laid out; we had truly found a beautiful spot from which we could enjoy and peaceful night with what promised to be a glorious dawn to follow.

I had just finished rolling the wine barrel off the wagon when we were beset upon by these loathsome, large, and utterly moronic creatures. Forgive me of not knowing what they are, I long ago gave up trying to know the name of every wretched being this world has to offer. I hoped to offer them the barrel I had just placed, perhaps enough to lull them into a drunken stupor so that we could escape. Apparently, though, these things thought they needed to use us as entertainment as the night passed on.

First, they indicated that they wanted to use our archery target to practice the skill. As we went about setting it up, one of the monsters knocked it over and shoved my dear friend against the tree. This beast proceeded to place some fruit on his head. Instantly, my friend and I knew what they wanted and we likewise knew that our adventures were over. As the creature drew the bow string back, I closed my eyes so I would not have to watch this nightmare. I heard the arrow hit home, but no other noise other than the grumbling from the large brutes. Daring to take a peek, I could see that my friend stood there still in perfect health. The fruit stuck to the tree with a thick arrow running through its center. Our hearts leaped as we suddenly believed that perhaps these oafs were’t as brutish as we had been led to believe. Archery being the skill of refined peoples, apparently these large creatures were more familiar to us than we thought.

Our hopes, though, quickly waned. The one that had fired the arrow strode to my friend, took the sword from my friend’s belt, and plunged it into his gut. Crumpling to the ground, my friend quickly became still soon after. They looked to me next, the fear all mine to feel as my friend lay at rest. Fruit balanced on my head, the first arrow took me just under the knee! I squealed as more arrows came into my gut. Meanwhile, the stupid creatures had started to lose interest and were looking through our belongings. The one with the bow walked up to me and jabbed the last arrow through my head to quiet me.

The torture doesn’t stop there, though. The creatures continue to linger, watching our bodies whither away. Laughing at our misfortune, all the while not even touching the barrel of wine! Cruel, cruel fate!

Karlnichols_91b14a_ESO

This is the tale of the The Three Nords. A trio of outlaws who once were the inspiration of the term "thick as thieves", now a gruesome reminder of greed.

Taryn (the brains) approached the campfire with a grin on his face. "Boys, I have a job that will change everything!". Fyste (the face) looked up from his gruel. "You've been saying that the last dozen jobs and yet her we are once again.". Undeterred, Taryn kicked a sleeping Gorehl (the grunt). "Wake up and pay attention you two!". He quickly explained his plan to steal an artifact known as Idol of Greed from deep within a monastery in town. With minimal security this job would be an easy grab. The tough part would be finding a buyer, for this object was said to be cursed. Stories of death and betrayal surrounded the artifact. Taryn wasn't about to tell the others this for fear of spooking them. After some time and no small amount of persuasion, Taryn convinced the others to take on the job.

As expected, the job was a breeze. They stole the item then it was off to camp while Taryn lined up a buyer. On the way back to camp the three thieves argued aggressively over who was to hold onto the idol. Gorehl nearly knocked Taryn off his horse before Fyste was able to break up the skirmish. After getting back to camp they decided to settle down with some mead in an effort to take the edge off of things. Mug after mug they drank, growing louder and merrier by the minute. All but Fyste, who couldn't stop stealing glances at the idol sitting off to the side. After a few hours, Fyste began to brag that he was the best shot out of the three. Gorehl and Taryn immediately spat out ridiculous claims that each was superior to the others. "How about we put it to the test my friends!" Fyste bellowed. "I'll bet you each half my share that I can shoot a potato off the top of your heads.". Taryn and Gorehl look at each other and drunkenly agree to the bet...

Fyste looked down the shaft of his arrow at a staggering Gorehl who was desperately trying to keep the potato from falling off his head. Fyste's mind raced as he mentally wrestled between friendship and greed. The arrow hisses towards it's target and sticks the potato to the tree behind Gorehl, who feints and slumps to the ground. Once more Fyste eyed his target, mind racing and heart torn.. Taryn screamed in agony as the arrow pinned his leg to the tree. Another arrow flew and stuck through his arm. Fyste no longer wrestled with his feelings. A smile crept across his face as he let another arrow fly into Taryn's gut. Taryn's eyes glistened with tears of betrayal and fear as the last thing he sees is one last arrow and everything goes black...

LonePirate

Please bow your heads in remembrance of Benny and Lenny. These two loyal Ebonheart Pact soldiers fell victim to the deadliest of enemies in Cyrodiil - The Lag Monster. These brave Pact members were preparing for battle near Arrius Keep when The Lag Monster attacked. They were quickly frozen in place unable to perform any offensive or defensive maneuvers until they were instantly decimated by the invincible and sudden wrath of The Lag Monster. They both fought well and deserved a better death! May we mourn them with the respect they have earned.

irodeasa_ESO

The Journal of "Ol' Gob"
Entry 1
I'm startin' this 'ere record to mark the day that Ol' Gob turned o'er a new leaf. See, me an' my mates decided we was tired o' bein' bandits , an' that we could make more money doin' an honest man's work. So, from now on, we're goin' to be a travelin' act! Yes! All o' Tamriel will be amazed by the feats o', 'The Four Death Defyin' Death-Defyers!' (Ol' Gob thinks the name still needs a bit o' work, maybe if we change it to...)

(The rest of the entry is illegible, you skip to the next entry.)

Entry 2
Looks like this 'll be the last entry for Ol' Gob, the act didn't turn out quite like I 'ad expected it would. We was all celebratin' an' the lad's must o' 'ad a little too much drink, 'cause next I know Lanis 'as 'is bow out, an' I look o'er an' Jack's against a tree. The fool was balancin' an old loaf on 'is 'ead 'an tryin' to juggle 'is sword all at once ( 'E only 'ad the one sword.), an' Lanis takes a shot at 'im! By some blind luck the arrow missed Jack an' 'it the loaf, but poor Jack stumbled and fell on 'is sword anyway. So's all the while Jack's bleedin' out, 'Enry's callin' for Lanis to take a shot at 'im! It seems to Ol' Gob that Lanis must o' been drunk out o' 'is mind, cause 'e loaded up an 'andfull o' arrows and sent 'em all at 'Enry, who wasn't so lucky as Jack, an' managed to catch all four.
The next mornin', Lanis said 'e was goin' to continue on an' look for a more experienced act to join. 'E offered Ol' Gob the chance to come along, but I reckon bein' alive an' a bandit is more profitable than bein' dead an' part o' a travelin' act!

Veridiano02

Journal from Elanelle Caemaire

Entry 1:
I know that wandering in the wilds is dangerous. I already know that. The last thing I need is having my brother saying it all the time. I’m not stupid, neither a child. I know how to defend myself. I’m a mage, after all.
However, even with my brother constantly remiding me how dangerous everything is beyond the balcony of our manor, this is the best time i had in years. I’m finally free.
I have to admit, though, camping feels unconfortable.
Entry 2:
Today we have met quite a character. A Khajit, named Kisji. She seems nice, and knows a lot about the world. And the best thing of all, my brother had stolen from her a map, from a nearby location. It’s a tresaure. This is going very well!

Journal from Arkrim Caemaire

Entry 1:
I have taken that paper from that stupid Khajit. And I can’t believe what I’m doing. What kind of person i’ve become. I’m a thief. A criminal. And everything to keep my sister safe. I’m tempted to let her in the middle of this woods. “I’m a mage”, she’s constatly repeating. And she can’t even lit a fire in a camp. I want to see what can her magic do against a dozen of bandits, or a pack of wolves.
Anyway, the Khajit’s map marks a location, nearby. My stupid sister is already dreaming of a tresaure full of ancient things. I hope that, when we find nothing but some dirty,nasty old camp with nothing in it, she’ll finally notice how stupid this little quest of hers is.

Journal from Kisji

Entry 1:
This one has to admit, to trick this couple of elves it’s been easier than this one expected. I left the map with the location of the others in a visible spot. The elves have awaken early. The younger one even said something of a tresaure. If this one knows were such a tresaure is located, I’ll already be in this one’s hands.
It almost feels a bit sad. They seem young. But they seem rich as well. This one will wait some hours, and then this one will follow. I’m sure by then the others will already deal with them.
Entry 2:
This one has to wonder, why the last thing the elven mage had done in this world is to throw a potato from a basket nearby to a group of khajit armed with bows and swords. It seems curious. Anyway, we had enough money to buy an entire month of food and supplies.

natevarner84

It was a hot morning in Auridon, the sun casting a burning haze through the gaps in the forest canopy. A heavily armored Argonian was sitting beside a bubbling stream, catching his breath for a moment.
"Evereus!" A piercing cry assaulted his ears. Lanavia, his dunmer companion, was at his side. He cast a glance over her. With her light armor that allowed her to move silently as a shadow, and her exemplary skills with a bow, Lanavia had saved Evereus' life more times than he would ever admit. "Evereus, we need to get moving if we're to have any hope of collecting the bounty," Lanavia said. He knew she was right. They had been following the trail of a Breton named Klava for two weeks now. He was wanted for numerous murders throughout Tamriel, and his bounty was the largest Evereus had ever seen. He and Lanavia had already had much competition tracking him down, but now they were closer to him than anyone had ever gotten. If he wasted any more time resting, Klava could soon be forever beyond their grasp. "Come on," Lanavia said as she pulled up on his arm. Evereus sighed and staggered to his feet.
"Allright, let's get going," he said.
As night consumed the forest, Evereus suddenly realized he could see the glow of a campfire a little ways ahead. He felt Lanavia's hand on his arm and he knew she saw it too. Lanavia began pulling Evereus through the trees towards the glow, never making a sound. He knew that she could guide him silently to the target. Within minutes, he could see the fire and the men gathered around it. They were bounty hunters, a Khajiit and a Nord that Evereus had met before, no doubt in pursuit of Klava.
"If we let them live, they will get in the way, or they will try to kill us," Lanavia breathed in his ear. He knew she was right. He nodded and pulled his ax from his belt as Lanavia drew her bow. As the Khajiit was pulling a potato from his pack, Lanavia's first arrow pierced it and pinned it to the tree behind the hunters. Evereus loosed a battle cry as he rushed from the shadows swinging his ax at the Nord. Lanavia's next four arrows came in rapid succession, piercing the Khajiit as easily as the potato, and leaving him equally pinned. Sword met ax with a resounding clang as the Nord managed to draw his sword just in time to block Evereus' first swing. Grunting from the strain, he locked eyes with his opponent for a moment, then headbutted the Nord, breaking his nose. Evereus threw his ax to the side and grabbed the mans sword, ripping it from his grasp, and stabbed him through the gut. The Nord gasped and slid to the ground. Evereus stood over him and watched as his lifeblood stained the forest floor. Lanavia's light touch again rested on his arm.
"We must continue, Evereus," Her voice was flat and cold. She held no remorse for them. Evereus heaved a sigh, and began to walk into the shadows of the forest once more, continuing on the trail to Klava.

Death_Blackmetal77

We were starving and cold just wanting enough gold to shelter ourselves for one night at least. The silver and gold goblet would have put us on the map, maybe even enough to start a business. I said "if we are quiet and stealthy enough we can get it." We never knew Orcs were sharp shooters and such good swordsman. I'm sorry my love.

Acrolas

Na'jirra's Lament

I pleaded to them. This one needs the jumbo potatoes. This one is so close to provisioning inspiration that her whiskers twitch with anticipation. But they said no. Not for sale. Not today. Not ever. So this one slaughtered them in their mirthful folly. Cups go up, up, up. Health goes down, down, down. This one jokes to take the pain away.

Because this one thought no one saw. No witness to the crime. No one to see the taunting. This one gloated a little too much. Laughed and sang and gave the departed little potato crowns.

But this one was wrong. That Mad God appeared. "I would have killed for some humongous cheese wheels," he sneered. "What are you doing making a bloodbath over some oversized tubers? Seems a bit mashed up to me."

Na'jirra said you must take what can be taken while it can still be taken.

"Good point," he agreed. "And now forever taken it shall be."

Now Najirra's family is cursed to always retrieve these jumbo potatoes from thieves. Big smelly thieves, dungy shaveskin thieves, the culprit always changes. But this one assures you. One day this one - or next one, or one after on after - one will finally have the jumbo potatoes long enough to make bread out of it.

And it will be famous.

Demonically_Angelic

Adhasi was walking in the forest today, minding Adhasis business when she heard talk of the Ring of Khajiit from 2 Orcs.
Adhasi knelt and crept closer to the 2 fat, nasty Orcs eating their potatoes and drinking under a tree. This one can never understand why people eat Potatoes, even moonsugar can not make potatoes taste better.

"Yes, yes a merchant in Glenumbra sold it to me." Adhasis heard the fatter Orc say.
"Are you sure? It looks a little... Plain to me" Adhasis saw the other Orcs eyebrows raise.
"Well.. We all know the cats aren't excatly the most fanciable of creatures." The fat Orc sneered and then laughed after he said this.

Adhasis hissed quietly. This one takes great offence at the fat, stupid Orcs words. He did not even know his history! Adhasis will show him! Adhasis pulls out her daggers and gets ready to lunge at the fat little Orcs when Adhasis spies a Bosmer on the other side of the clearing pulling out his bow. Adhasis looks back to the orcs to see them balancing the potatoes their heads like fools, laughing and trying to wiggle their bodies without it dropping. This one would laugh if they had not insulted her just before.

Adhasis sees the Bosmer raise his bow ready to fire his arrows and Adhasis hisses loudly, rushing forward as the Bosmer releases his first arrow. Adhasis reaches the fatter Orc as the Bosmer releases a 2nd arrow and stabs him low in the chest. Adhasis hears more arrows and turns to see one flying toward her! Adhasis darts to the right just in time as the arrow
goes through the potato on top of the Orcs stupid little head, and this one turns, glaring at the Bosmer who laughs.

"Almost" he shakes his head, laughing before winking and slipping into the trees and out of site.

"Stupid Bosmer" Adhasis says to herself. Adhasis turns back to the Orcs and frowns when she sees a solid gold ring at the floor.

"Stupid Orcs, that's a ring of nothing, everyone has that" Adhasis shakes her head and turns away from the fat little Orcs and goes to leave when Adhasis sees 2 sets of Orc armour lying next to 2 beds. Adhasis can sell Orc armour for lots of gold. Adhasis quickly scoops up the armor and into her bag. She turns and leaves the clearing. Adhasis sneaks a look back to the Orcs and sees 2 Ogres entering the clearing. Adhasis quickly ran away, this one does not want to share the armor she has in her bag.

Webmage806_ESO

Two stood tall and proud seeking fortune and fame.
One charming to the eyes while the other bold and untamed.
Each wanting what the other could not.
Forever a lead amongst these two fought.

From women to game their challenges did grow.
Till one fine day a wager came filled with great woe.
Orges are fierce with danger abound.
To slay one would prove which was profound.

Both took the quest without worry or care.
Loading the wagon with all of their wares.
Off they went to the mountainous road
Hoping to return with a bountiful load.

The sun did hide as night sky greeted.
As a fire roared and the two seated.
From a barrel ale was poured.
Cups filled for these two boisterous lords.

Laughter and banter came from the two.
As each compared tales that where truer the true.
Anger arose as each did speak.
Neither agreeing nor baring to be meek.

Now the telling is not so detailed or clear
But what happened after left the story with fear
Two so proud and with deeds so great
Where left dead sealed to their fate.

Pride had slain them both without thought
Sword upon gut and arrows did caught.
Neither now seeking what the other sought.
The charming and bold died where they fought.

Mandragora

"Do you think you are a good archer if you can shoot to a big target! Everyone can do that!"
Provoked already drunk old Tom young Larry, mightly pump himself by a cup of beer, that seems like never leaving his left hand.
"You know what? I will stand here before the tree and try to shoot around me. You know, I have seen it on some festival of pirates during my duty in southern countries!" Noding knowlingly like a true veteran of many battles who saw a lot in his life. Atleast he tried to looks like that...

"I don't know, are you sure about that?" Quietly objected yound Larry with shaking voice. "You may move and I don't want to be responsible for the rest!"

"I will stand right there and let it be done already!" stated old Tom as he raised his beer again.

"Alright, as you wish" resigned young Larry and He begin to shoot his first arrow. It went just next to the left side of Toms belly.

"Ha! that was close one! But you will not be that lucky next time. Shoot another one! I will not leave till I will have my proof!"

With a quiet sigh Larry aimed another arrow. As the first one it went just next to Toms belly from the other side.

"OK, maybe you can shoot! Now till the third time, or it will not count!" Screamed already drunk old Tom and ate a cooked potato as he dreamed about southern fests his eyes closed in concentration.

Almost with reliefe, that everything will be soon over, Larry took the last arrow.

But as he aimed Tom has suddenly moved as he raised his mug to toast to Larry's archery and as he was singing "what can we do with the drunken sailor!" the arrow went just through his open mouth.

His voice suddenly stopped, the more aloud was the noise of falling jug and Tom last breath ended the suddenly too quiet scene.

As Larry cried out in panic, he took Tom's sword and placed it into his belly and cried for mercy falling down just next to dead Tom.

A few days later there was a sudden noise as someone big and heavy was trying to get through.

A hungry troll came to that scene his mouth open wide in surprise as he saw the dead bodies and all the potatoes scattered around like a dinner prepared just for him.
Then he waved his hand pondering strange nature of humanity and he ate all - he ate all potatoes, all meat, all clothes and drank all the beer and then he sat under a roof made of cotton thinking about this happy moment in his life when he wasn't finally hungry anymore!

JackStrongIron

Young, Valiant Heroes
The war horn of the ogres could be heard in the distance, calling fourth all of their battle hardened warriors. Preparing ourselves we raised our shields and drew our swords, glancing to my left I could see my faithful friend Galathor who had his battle Axe held at the ready, as always he stood with a the widest grin flashing his dirty brown teeth.
“Men of the King, Men of the sword, Ready yourself for this will be a battle worth fighting for.” Yelled our commander who stood tall on the frontline layered in iron clad, the ogres could be seen streaming down the hillside, their brutish grins staring into our eyes. I could see it around me, the men weren’t ready, and many trembled in fear but were courageous in the final moment and stood their ground waiting for the final moment.
They were upon us, swords clashed and axes swung, gurgling screams could be heard from everywhere, fighting with every ounce of strength we stood strong. My sword could be heard clashing against the ogres blades, blood covering me head to toe, dodging and weaving, striking out at my foes. Galathor stood by me, covering my back with his steel axe, shouting Nord war cries as he hit his opponents. All around me lay my companions, blood streak weaponry clattered to the ground as our men were pushed back, the number of ogres were never ending, with more swarming from the forest behind us. We knew what we had to do, running for the trees, Galathor and I head towards our camp, with few ogres following our trail.
We arrived, but all was not over, 5 ogres rushed towards us, through our camp they tossed supplies, crates of potatoes falling to the ground. We backed up against a tree, preparing to hold our ground, if we were to die it would be to die fighting. Three of the five hastily ran towards us, with my sword and Galathor's axe in our hands we slashed and stabbed fighting for our lives, blood streaked our faces and covered our hands, barely defeating two we were met with a fury of arrows, pain shot through my shoulder as I took a hit, with such force it pinned me to the tree, glancing to my left I saw my friend collapse as he was stabbed in the stomach, saying my name as he fell. I knew this was the end, looking to the ground I saw a potato, strangely enough my final thoughts were that I wished I had eaten more…pain flooded my body as the final arrow struck my body.
Many years our bodies stayed there, the flesh eroding, leaving only the bones of our bodies. This was our resting place, stuck to a tree, slumped to the ground and surrounded by potatoes.

Prizz

How Fromundacheez Biscuits came about:
Told by an eyewitness not wishing to be named. (a thief that had been tracking the party)

Two brother's headed out for some hunting. They decided to make camp after several hours and started to enjoy some of the best cheese biscuits their mother ever made then realized they had nothing to adorn them with. I guess it was poor planning on their part not to have at least some butter to slather upon these warm, flaky bites of goodness. They got bored and eventually started plinking arrows at a target to show-off and prove their marksmanship skills. After a bit they poured some ale and nodded off.

Apparently while they slept this ogre ventures towards them. Awakened by the thunderous vibration of the ogres footsteps the boys sprang to their feet ready for battle. The ogre shouts don't shoot, my name is Fromun d'Cheez and I have traveled far tracking the scent of the biscuits in your camp. The ogre goes on to tell the two that he is a connoisseur of fine foods and he'd love to have the recipe for such an odiforous biscuit.

We can't just give it to you but we might for some gold. The ogre says I have no gold but perhaps you'd be willing to give me the recipe if I performed a feat of marksmanship for you? The boys, still hungover from the ale say "sure, we're in the mood for gambling, why not!" So the ogre tells them that he is known as a great archer and says that he bets he can shoot a biscuit off the heads of each of them. The ogre says "go ahead and jot down that recipe, I'll get my gear.". The boys, obviously still intoxicated agree to the terms and jot down the recipe.

The ogre lines up the boys with the biscuits on their heads, and says "I'm gonna fire several arrows to show you how accurate I am, then I'll hit the biscuits, so just stay still now, sound good?" The boys say "sure that sounds great!". So the ogre fires off three arrows around one of them then nails the biscuit over the other boy. Well it doesn't take an alchemist to figure this out, but the ogre says "it's time for my last trick, ready?" The boys impressed so far say to go for it. The ogre lines up on the boy and fires a shot straight through his skull, the brother is in shock, as he is stunned from the event the ogre takes his blade and drives it deep into the boy killing him instantly.

The ogre takes the recipe then sits down to enjoy those delicious biscuits.

It has been rumored that Fromun now sells his biscuits sometimes adding a sprinkle of fresh cheese. You know you can't resist Fromundacheez biscuits.

(488/500 words)

Dossicles

“Have I ever told you the story of the thieving brothers?” an elderly man asked to his two grandchildren.

“No pop-pop tell us!” The two replied in almost perfect timing.

“Well, our short story takes place in a small forest just south of this little cottage..”


“Hmmph, me still not see how humans fall for trap, Gra'duul.” A large Orc by the name of Sha'duul, son of Tra'duul, bellowed.

“Humans are silly creatures brother, they see treasure and come running they do. So we put boneses for them to see. Much like squirrel to acorn.” Gra'duul heaved a sack of gems collected from their travels onto his back and whispered in a voice loud enough to stir the birds from their slumber, “Now come brother, wait over here and see how dumb the humans are.”

As the pair struggled to gather their treasures gained from looting caravans and raiding secret camps, a long quiet sound could be heard from a distance, whistling it's way ever closer. With a resounding thud, the brothers noticed an arrow, piercing the skull of a skeleton they had propped against the aged bark. As the two stood in wonder of the act that had transpired, a voice shouted from beyond the small hill in the distance, “You two there, stop! I'm looking for two very specific Orcs and I don't suppose that you could help me.”

“What human think he can tell Sha'duul what to do!?”

Sensing the tension, Gra'duul whispered,“Calm brother, I handle this.” And began shouting to the voice over the hill, “What you need our help for?”

Above the hill appeared a ranger, whom replied to the brothers, “I seek information on the brothers Gra'duul and Sha'duul, perhaps you know them?”

“Perhaps do we, but why you care?” Gra'duuls voice became annoyed, as he realized this man meant harm.

“Well you see fellows, they stole something very precious of mine, a sack. A sack of gems, otherwise known as my birth-right. Now, you wouldn't happen to be of help to me would you? For I have something to give to them as well.”

“Orcs not very nice to bargain, what you have that could possibly be for us that...” Gra'duul smacked his brother upside his head, annoyed that Sha'duul ruined their only cover of lying.

“Ah, I see that you are the two I seek. Well in exchange for your lives and that sack on your back, I offer you this.” With one quick motion, the ranger pulled over the hill the head of the Orc leader Tra'duul.

Upon seeing the head of their father, the two Orc's fury grew insurmountable, and the brothers charged up the hill with the intent of murder.

The last sounds to pierce that day, were of two notched arrows, and two thuds of the life being taken from the Orcs.

SILENTCHEEZ

Once upon a time before the Imperial Empire had fallen, two Nordic lads named Sven and Magnus, who were brothers, got drunk on some whiskery their father had left out in the open. So in their drunken stupidity, they decided to see who was a better shot with a bow. They took their mother's potatoes out of the family pantry and went to the Old Willow near the barn. They put the potatoes on their heads and tried shooting them off. Sven went first but Magnus was a terrible shot. It took him three tries to realize his brother was dead. However, before he could react, the friendly troll, who was also drunk, wanted to join them in this competition. He took they boys' father's sword and threw it at the potato on Magnus' head but hit him in the chest instead, killing him. Their bodies have remained at the tree ever since. It is also said that the friendly troll's grandson visits their bodies whenever ESO does a stupid update. The End.

Oolou

A Cautionary Tale to Young Warriors Who Vainly Boast of Exploits and Other Sundry Lies Concerning the Killing of Werewolves.


Dedication

The one we serve, we hope to please,
Who distains sense and praises cheese,
Who incites all to stoics tease,
Accept this from your devotees.


The Tale

We met them on the road back east,
Two fellows with their brains well greased
With barrels from the brewers yeast,
And looking for a further feast.

With wine to share, we gladly stopped,
And soon our tales of old were swapped
Of battles fought and soldiers chopped,
And trophies took of fingers lopped.

But one boast made, that both did swear
Was true, struck me as most unfair.
My brother noticed my hard stare,
And nodding back, proposed a dare.

A wager made while drinking wine,
A bet to pass the evening time,
A jest to test the strength of spine,
To end with horrible punchline.

With first potato cleanly shot
Upon the head balanced a-top
Of funny victim one, the clot
Did cheer and drink another pot.

The second thought himself so brave,
Potato balanced, signal gave,
Then arrows thrice did hit this knave,
Thus pinioned to his oaken grave.

The first did blanch and cried “No more!”
For now he knew what lay in store,
And on his knees did he implore,
And grovel on the forest floor

We laughed at this pathetic loon,
Who earlier that afternoon,
Had boasted killing with a spoon
A score of werewolves at full moon

But now he whimpered at our feet,
And sadly soiled his breeches’ seat,
And knowing he’d more to excrete,
He cried, “Mercy! I know I’m beat!”

“This game I do not want to play!”
“You’ve had your fun. Let me away!”
“I do not want to die today!”
And then the fool began to pray.

My brother then began to speak,
His voice quite soft but never meek,
“Pray tell me, how many this week
Have met thy spoon, thou mewling squeak?”

“My spoon?” answered the fool confused,
“That was a jest, I’ve never used
A spoon to kill!” …


T’was best to silence him in case
He later thought to give us chase.
The sword that lodged him to the place,
We left to mark the scene’s disgrace.

So warriors, both young and old,
Take heed of this dire tale we’ve told,
Your lies may paint yourselves as bold,
But may result in corpses cold.

Parsifal

The Quest for Nirn

Upon a darkened summer morn
a friend and I began to cross
the vast and empty plains of moss,
although our kin did often warn
of creatures foul and paths forlorn
we could not live in such chaos

This meld of planes has caused the trees
to shed their once adorning leaves
and wither in the daedric plague
that grips our world, for reasons vague.
Our world is fading, with the breeze,
to rest in distant memories.

Inaction yields a slower end
but still, to Nirn we all must tend
And so we wield our blades once more
With lives in hand, to quickly spend
If but the tides that shape this war
Should sweep us to that distant shore

As night begins to softly fall
We set up camp to briefly stall…
To rest a while, to drink some mead,
For both of us are quite wearied
But neither of us knew at all
That soon we’d enter quite the brawl

The ogres of the northern plains
Are horrid foes, with dingy manes
And all at once, a pack of three
Descends upon our peaceful tree
With arrows dipped in foreign strains
Of poison that could cause our veins
To blacken before we can flee

We raise our shields to block the charge
As their bows quickly discharge
I hear a loud and frightful cry
As an arrow hit the eye
Of my only true ally

I swing my blade in vicious spite
To prove this dog still has a bite
And through their ranks I slash my way
To live to fight another day
But ogres are not prone to fright
And thrust their swords with fearful might
into their unsuspecting prey

And so our tale has now been penned
As I lay broken, with my friend
Although we did not meet our goal
I hope that some far braver soul
Should hear our tale, and quickly lend
Their blade to Nirn, before its end

kingrameth

Krag's Journal

I was traveling with my companions and we decided it was time for a break and lunch. Well what else was there to do during a good break than have a friendly archery contest? Everything started out innocent enough. We even had a legitimate target, but then someone decided to go for a harder target...I cannot remember who, anyway, when I called out for two men to stand by a large tree and place potatoes on their heads for our sport they laughingly obliged. The man I was up against let loose and his arrow flew true struck the food and stuck the tree. My fingers..arms..well, I missed...the food, but I hit the man in the shin. A few inches higher and I would have ended his adventuring days then and there. He was the sporting kind though and gritted his teeth and took another shot to his midsection, and that man was truly remarkable and possibly a bit too trusting as he took another shot in almost the same spot, I swore the next time I drew I would hit my mark, and I did get close…I mean his eye was pretty close to the food. He died. I thought it best if I just went ahead and killed the other man too. There really were no survivors. I pray whoever reads this journal will take away the one true message I am trying to leave. Potatoes are dangerous.

deathwolf823_ESO

Once a thriving society, Grimsgil was a barren wasteland, now inhabited by very strange creatures of many species. Now, when I say creatures you may be thinking monsters that come out and eat you or something, but these creatures weren’t uncivilized. In fact, some might even say that they are more civilized than even you and I. No one has ever given them a name because they don’t even know that they exist for they, the creatures, are extremely sneaky and observant. Some think they are what remain of the previous inhabitants, while others think that they are creatures summoned from the depths of Oblivion. No one really knows for sure, but enough of that, let’s get back to the story. Since these creatures were so mysterious and good at hiding, of course they attracted the attention of people, but no more than for the Timberlock twins. The Timberlock twins were two Bosmer Nightblades: Finhelfin wearing full leather armor and wielding a hickory bow, and his brother, Edorm, wearing full Ebony armor and wielding two Ebony Daggers. While Finhelfin was quick and nimble, Edorm was slow but powerful with his Daggers. Finhelfin was on a quest to increase his knowledge of shadows and Edorm wanted to get started on his own quest to do the same. When they heard about these mystical creatures that lurk in the shadows, they just had to go take a look into it. So they made the ever so long journey into the depths of the dominion to seek out the infamous Grimsgil to uncover the mystery of the, so called, invisible creatures from Talos knows where. Their search wasn’t very hard for everyone seemed to know about Grimsgil in all of its wonder. Upon approaching the outskirts of the barren town, the twins could already feel the eeriness of the place. How in the silence you still felt like there was something or someone speaking through it. Even though they could see all around them, they still felt like something was there. Finhelfin tells Edorm to stay quiet. The two elves creep over to the middle of the town where there was a fountain that hadn’t obtained water in many centuries. Suddenly there is a crash from their left and they instantly take cover and unsheathe their weapons. In the direction of the loud sound a large figure appeared to have emerged from the rubble. Finhelfin and Edorm attacked what now appeared to be an Orge. They both threw everything that they could at it, but they didn’t seem to be able to do anything to affect it. It was an Illusion! From what appeared to be thin air an arrow shot into Finhelfin’s right shin, then into his stomach. Edorm ran towards this invisible force that shot his brother but he was blinded by a light from nowhere. Moments later, Finhelfin looked over to his now dead brother before he was finished off by an invisible arrow… and that’s where we are now.

Area51Visitor

"Stagnant," Kwork said "the wind left this place."
He was right. My breath tore through the air while I fought to catch it. The blades of grass stood still. The trees did not sway.
Something shimmered across the carriage. I jerked, drawing my daggers, just then to see it was caused from the glow of that orcs sword and it's bloody enchant.
Though he was no ordinary orc, unmatched in many ways, where he faltered among his Orc kin in height he failed twice more in reservation. Still, he was more perceptive and clever than any I'd known. When I asked him to sheath his weapon, I wondered if I should have had reservations of my own.
"Agent Kwark, why do you think the food is fresh?" I asked, wondering how the flesh of these two could be so completely removed while the food stay in tact.
"Why would rot lounge in a cesspool the even wind would not venture to?" he replied. It intrigued me for a moment. He'd not seemed the suspicious type before.
The clack of branch cracked in the distance.
"Hide," I declared.
We couldn't go far. The gravel and grass thundered each step we took. We slipped beneath the cover of the carriage.
A scamp arrived. I could smell it's putrid hide, which I'd gladly carve and drape across this wretched scene. I could hear it grunt, and grovel, and sniff. It knew we were here. How could he not, the wind carried nothing from this place. I could hear it draw closer. The end of a blade slipped beneath the cover next to Kwark. Suddenly a presence I'd not felt, an unhallowed voice thrust a cold chill through this cursed place. The last I I heard was "more flesh scamp, for the brew".

Pixel

It was a cool Rain's Hand night, thunder roaring and lightning snaking across the sky.

Taking a long deep breathe I looked up to the night sky, rain trickling down my face. There was no where in the world I’d rather be. A flash of lightning lit the sky, and that’s when I caught her out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to the heaven’s to give my thanks. Could this night possibly get any better? Another quick flash of light teased her long, luscious raven hair - and those eyes! As darkness consumed her figure once more, it was as if the light had been trapped within those piercing orbs which were now looking my way. I closed the gap and before I could utter a single word she immediately wrapped me in an embrace. The lightning stopped and everything was consumed in darkness.

I woke up to find myself bound to a tree in place of the dart board we had hung during last nights festivities. Glancing around I could see many of the tents were torn apart, cups and kegs lay strewn about. A Nord was tied up next to me, a potato atop his head. A grunt in the distance grabbed my attention, and a long chill went up my spine. Piercing green eyes and long raven hair - on what appeared to be a Troll. A troll that was now brandishing a bow in one hand and a goblet in the other - a wild grin upon it’s horrid face. It tried to notch an arrow while holding the goblet, and quickly became enraged - hurling the goblet right into my chest.

I couldn’t tell which of us the Troll was aiming at, which terrified me further. The arrow let fly, and slammed into my shin. The next, grazed the right side of my waist. I writhed in pain, desperately trying to break free. Another arrow let loose - grazing the other side of my waist. The Troll let out another series of grunts, clearly amused. The Nord next to to me managed to open his eyes in time to see an arrow soaring his way. I closed my eyes in horror. The grunting intensified. Opening one eye I could make out the arrow protruding from the potato that was sitting atop the man’s head. The man’s eyes were wide with terror. No one could hear our muffled cries for help.

The Troll seemed to lose interest with the bow. Tossing it aside, it then picked up a rather large sword. It looked from the sword to us and the grunting continued. With one arm it took the sword and hurled it our way, impaling the man next to me. The Troll came over and placed a potato on my head before returning to pick up and ready the bow. Could this day possibly get any worse?

My last thought was of how I didn’t get to finish my ale - and the darkness consumed me once more.

Drafo

Nos

“What do you think of him?” Miles whispered to Potemus. The two boys were looking not-so-discreetly at the boy around their age who had just moved into town.

“I don’t know…. He seems alright, but there’s something weird about him….”

“I think we should make friends with him,” Miles said. Potemus opened his mouth to respond, but Miles was already on his way to greet the stranger.

***

He called himself Nos. He claimed it was a Dunmer name, despite his Imperial heritage. After talking to him, Potemus and Miles found he wasn't anyone to be scared of. In fact, he seemed just as cool as them.

The three quickly formed a friendship over the next few weeks. Only Potemus felt that there was something off, though he said nothing.

***

Nos had told Potemus and Miles to meet him outside the inn at sundown for a big surprise. The sky was nearly dark by the time they spotted him hurrying towards them.

“Guys, you won’t believe it! I got the Fletcher to sell me a real life bow!”

“No. Way.” Miles’ annoyance at the time vanished instantly.

Nos pulled out a bow of finest quality. It seemed to reflect the red light of Masser, though the sun had barely set.

“How’d you get him to sell it to you?” Potemus asked.

“I just showed him I knew how to use it,” Nos shrugged.

“You’ve shot a real bow before?” Miles gaped.

“I was the best shot in my village back in Morrowind,” Nos boasted. “I can show you if you want.”

The three of them ran to the archery range, so eager were they to see the bow in action. When they got there, however, the targets were missing.

“That’s alright; targets are boring anyway,” Nos said confidently. “Why don’t you both stand against that tree there with potatoes on your heads? I’ll shoot the potatoes without hitting you.”

“Alright, great idea!” Miles said excitedly.

Potemus didn’t know what to do. It sounded terrible to him, but if he said no his friends would think he was scared. He reluctantly took his place beside Miles, who handed him a potato before placing one on his own head.

“Okay, now keep really still….” FWIP!

Potemus shut his eyes right before the arrow was loosed from the string. He slowly opened them again to see Nos grinning, still holding the bow. He turned his head to look at Miles, and noticed that the potato didn’t move with him. It was pinned to the tree by Nos’s arrow. Potemus and Miles cheerfully applauded.

“Ok, my turn,” Miles said.

Nos reached into his quiver. Before Potemus realized what was happening, three arrows had already lodged themselves in Miles’ corpse.

“Sorry, but I've been itching to taste young blood,” Nos said as he drew a sword from under his cloak. As he approached Potemus he chanted ominously while he licked his lips. “Nos. Fer. Atu. Nos. Fer. Atu. Nosferatu!”

ces1976b14_ESO

We made ten leagues today – finally the rain and wind stopped, we were able to make good time. Our guild leader isn’t known for her patience – three days out from Vulkan Guard, we’re not sure if we’ll get there exactly on time. The horses are exhausted and might go lame if we push them any harder; we are not in much better shape. We found an old campsite; well, more like an old lean-to. But the cover is in good shape as is the fire pit, so this camp hasn’t been deserted for too long. There’s a bow target nearby that’s seen better days; makes me think this old lean-to might have been used for more than a simple camp. Hopefully, whomever used this place doesn’t mind us briefly sleeping here for the night.
There were a couple of pewter mugs in an old box – they look clean and we have a thirst, after all this riding. Henry has the fire started. Some shriveled, roasted potatoes and a few drinks of cheap wine should make the night go quickly.
<in a less steady hand>
There seem to be a lot of critters in the area. There is lots of rustling and other noises. The horses are restless and we can’t seem to get to sleep, despite many mugs of wine. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, but once we’re home, we can rest to our heart’s content.
<in a very uneven hand – hard to read>
They killed Henry! They stuck one of the hot stones from the fire pit on his head like an apple at a master archer competition, lighting his hair on fire and then used him for target practice while I watched. The rustling was creatures escaping the owners of this camp – two ogres with no patience for our poor Imperial heritage. Barely awake, I saw them coming towards us and jumped into a barrel which, by the smell, held something unspeakable. But Henry, always a deep sleeper, didn’t wake up until it was too late. I can’t even cry for him, I’m so terrified of making a sound. I can still hear them moving around.
<very slanted text>
I heard the horses scream. I guess they, too, are game for the ogres. They were good steeds – took us many leagues. I fear the crunching I hear is the ogres eating the poor beasts.
<hasty scrawl, abruptly ended>
I don’t know how long I’ve been stuck in here. I had to *** earlier and couldn’t hold it any longer - I hope a bottle of wine isn’t what ends my existence. I hear snorting and sniffling sounds. I don’t have much, but I’m not a beggar in Daggerfall. I deserve better than…………………………..

ghostalker15

This is what becomes of those who mock and scorn the great chef Egeria! They dared to come into the inn and slander my abilities, well I showed them! They weren’t well equipped, yet they bragged about their prowess with talk of the arena and in the same breath mocked the meal that graced their bellies. I bothered not to remember their names, and whilst they scorned and ridiculed my baked potatoes, mentioned a place that held great treasure but was guarded by a fearsome, if idiotic and clumsy, ogre. The area had once been a bandit camp, though minor, the area still held remains of equipment and supplies. It was there where I took my revenge. As they edged around a tree to assess the ogre, I struck. I took the closest man’s blade and stuck him like a pig. His eyes had widened in horror and he opened his mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late. I twisted the blade and he gave a quiet gasp as he died. The other hadn’t noticed anything was wrong, and swiftly I took the bow and arrows off his back. He was holding one of the potatoes in his hand, as if preparing to eat it. “Egria! I’ll need my strength so this repulsive thing will need to suffice.” With that I notched an arrow and nailed the potato to the tree. Frozen, he nervously chuckled and asked “what, can’t take a little joke?” Having had enough of the man’s ill-humor, I replied succinctly, “No, no I can’t.”, and shot him in his shin. He choked through the pain “I used to be an adventurer…” and I struck him with another two arrows to the chest, before finishing with one to the head to end his suffering. “No breaking the fourth wall.” To add insult to injury, I removed my delicious potatoes they had purchased from their backpacks and placed one at his feet, the other on his head. “Let this be a lesson, never insult my cooking, after all, my food was voted least likely to cause a stomach-ache in a region-wide cooking competition.”