A Child's Art

A picture by the child of someone in the Breed N Bleed Association.

There is a place, a merry old place beneath an old grey hill, And there they breed a buck so brown That the Lord of the Land himself came down one night to see this steed.

The landlord has a tipsy cat that plays a five-stringed fiddle; And up and down he runs his bow, Now squeaking high, now purring low, now sawing in the middle.

The leader keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes; When there's good cheer among the guests, He cocks an ear at all the jests and laughs until he chokes.

They also keep a beautiful cow as proud as any queen; But music turns her head like ale, And makes her wave her tufted tail and dance upon the green.

And O! the rows of silver fishes and the store of odd baboons! On Sunday there's a special bear, And then they groom him up with care on Saturday afternoons.

The Lord of the Land was drinking deep, and the cat began to wail; The baboon and a raccoon on the table danced, The cow in the garden madly pranced, and the little dog chased his tail.

The Lord of the Land bought another buck, and then left for the longest night; And after a while, the stars were pale, and dawn was in the air.

Then the leader said to his tipsy dog: "The brown horses of this land, They neigh and champ their silver bits; But their master's been and drowned his wits, and the Sun'll be rising soon!"

So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead: He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, While the butler shook the Lord of the Land: "It's after three!" he said.

They rolled the Lord slowly up the hill and bundled him into the moon, While his horses galloped up in rear, And the cow came capering like a deer, and a bear ran up with the baboon.

Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle; the dog began to roar, The cow and the horses stood on their heads; The guests all bounded from their beds and danced upon the floor.

With a ping and a pang, the fiddle-strings broke! the cow jumped over the Moon, And the little dog laughed to see such fun, And the Saturday event went off at a run with the silver Sunday boon.

The round Moon rolled behind the hill, as the Sun raised up her head. She hardly believed her fiery eyes; For though it was day, to her surprise they all went back to bed.

The young man's silvery breath came forth from under his fur hood. He raised his eyes to look into a shallow ravine, raising his lantern to reveal his wind-burnt red cheeks. As he stood still with his lantern raised above his shoulders it became clear to the rest of the group why he had stopped, in the flickering light that issued from the oil lantern a barely noticeable tuft of grey fur became visible, caught on the naked branch of a small bush. Without a word the rest of the group perked up, there was an instant change in energy since this was the first time in many hours since they had found a trace of their quarry. In the midst of the Longest Night their energy had become drained with the grueling trek through The Anemoi's worst terrain and many had begun to lose hope. But this- this was a revival of hope, because they knew for sure they were back on the track of the White Wolph.

Garrett took a bite of his rations as he surveyed the ravine that lay in front of him. Turning to where the rest of the group had made camp for the "night" he noticed the gaunt faces and mellow attitudes. Walking over to one of group who was sitting with his back to a large boulder, shivering violently, Garrett squatted and offered him the last of his rations, which the man very readily accepted. This was a reminder to Garrett why he had volunteered to join this hunting party in their search for the wolf that had been terrorizing their community's livestock and pets. Not only was the wolf destroying the town's animal population but there had also been a sharp decline in the region's hunting population as a result of the wolf descending from the high peaks. It became clear that if no action was taken the village would most surely starve, which had prompted the formation of a hunting party. Initially 9 had set out, but there were only 6 remaining, 1 had succumbed to the cold, and 2 others were lost when the wolf had attacked their camp. Looking down in his quiver Garrett was reminded of that awful night, for he had managed to gain enough of his wits about him to snag up his bow and fire a shot at the wolf as it was running into the night, hearing a sharp yelp before silence consumed the night. They had a light blood trail to follow for 2 days, until it had gone dry this morning, leaving Garrett to use his tracking skills alone to guide the group, and this tuft of hair was the first sign he had since the blood.

Again looking down into the ravine Garrett noticed a pair of silhouettes fluttering up and disappearing into the night; crows. Tracking back to the source of their flight he spied a cave resting at the bottom of the ravine. Without hesitation Garret was flying around the camp, quietly alerting everyone to get up and arm themselves. Their looks of shock and confusion soon cleared as they noticed Garrett rest an arrow in his bow, drawing it back slightly and nodding with his head for everyone to follow. The group quickly and quietly fell in line behind him, raising what weapons they had to the ready. With a motion Garrett indicated to put out the lanterns, which he in turn did as well, plunging the group into a glistening darkness, surrounded by snow. As they descended into the darkened shadow of the ravine there could only be heard a small animal scurrying about in the distance. Coming to the mouth of the cave, Garrett leaned down to the side of the opening and picked up what looked like a stick; the arrow, after looking at it for a moment he cast it aside and continued into the cave. Stopping a few steps into the utter darkness he whispered back "Light", to which a pair of the group struggled to light their lamp, casting a light radiance throughout the small hollow they were standing in. In the back corner of the hollow lay a form, the White Wolph in the flesh, and it was asleep... WAS.

Breed N Bleed

Here is my story of the darkest of days, where dreaded deeds were done, a contract signed with the blood of one

We open on the closing of the cold last day of sunlight before the long night. In a small quite town in the north

(In a dim alleyway we hear a song take hold in one lone warehouse)

The sun's last song is singing, the world about to go awry. It's time to get our cleavers a-swinging for some to live, others must die.

Sing joyfully "hum dee, hum daa the world is one, under the dark of the darkest of sun's"

Chomp

"We made our move with time to spare, and now we must feed or else be laid bare."

multiple Chomps

(The voices grow in number)

"We ask you here to do as you may. To take the lives you wish, to make the hunger go away."

many unison Chomps

"Save us from the dark, you the darkest of all, for we, your servants, ready for your call.

Of us who sleep eternally so, have a desire in our still hearts to realise your wretched glow.

It is now seen that many of the townspeople have been rounded up and are being used as cattle and hung up to dry by several individuals, while one reads from a book of verses

The blood is poured, the evening is still. We turn to our own now, to eat our fill.

And with that the carts of larder chests are brought in and the cuts of Mann are boxed up

An individual signs a sales request and carts out the goods leaving the people to go about their work once more

---> If I do happen to win (Big IF here) would you be so kind as to send whatever I win as a gift card? I am trying to put enough money together so I can get a magistrate package, thank you!! even if you can't do this thank you all the same! <---

Thank you for all of the entries!

Not an entry... got bored and tested a new program. WIP and won t finish it I guess. The thought was some Hrothi-Farmer-cavalry riding on cows doing their (farming and hunting) stuff (+ some animals added later ?? ) Maybe someone might use the idea to make a finished picture ?^^

EDIT: just loaded it up. here the link. dunno how to add pictures here..-.-

https://imgur.com/a/SjKjCOK

The crimson trail through the snow was easy to track even in the darkness of the longest night. On a normal hunt there is no rush to follow such a thick blood trail because the prey would certainly lay dead at the end of it. On this hunt however there is second trail, a set of foot prints left by another hunter. This was the trail he was here to follow. His prey was the poacher because he was the game warden of this forest even if he had been ordered to retire. He knew better than anyone how this forests game had been over harvested because he had lived in this forest his entire life. He remembered hiking and not being able to walk for 5 minutes without seeing a herd of Dryas Elk or other wild fauna. It was because of the deep connection growing up in this forest engendered that he initially started protecting the animals of this forest. He had already been protecting this forest for years before the Count asked him to become the County Game Warden and master of the hunt. Who would turn down an offer to be paid for the work they were already doing? So he spent another three decades chasing off or killing poachers and occasionally taking the lord on a hunt. He had only been ordered to retire 2 years ago when the young lord inherited his fathers title. In those 2 years it had become painfully obvious that the fauna of this forest were in grave danger of extinction. The elderly Brudvir trudged through the deep snow. His aged body screaming at him to turn back and take shelter but he would protect this forest with his life so an aching body and some frostbite were of little concern to him. The blood trail had come to an end at an impression in the snow filled with most of what remained of the animals blood, a still steaming pile of entrails and the head of a female Dryas Elk. Only the parts that fetch a premium price had been taken by the poacher. The rickety old Brudvir's heart was pounding in his chest but he knew he couldn't stop here. The steaming entrails meant the poacher wasn't far ahead and even his ragged old body could catch up with someone dragging 200+ pounds of Dryas Elk.
Maintaining as quick a pace as his tired legs would carry him he tried to focus on something other than the stitch in his chest and his shaking legs. He thought of his son who he had taught everything he knew. He had hoped his son would follow in his footsteps but the young man was filled with a wanderlust that made him disdainful of a mann who could spend 60 years in one forest. It must be the cold wind that is making his eyes water. He finally had sight of the poacher but he was almost to an encampment where the shadows of others could be made out. The old game wardens heart was pounding in his chest as he stalked a wide circle around the encampment. From what he could see there were 3 of them but it was impossible to make out even their gender with the blowing snow and darkness. He knew the element of surprise would allow him to get at least one of them but he thought it best to wait for one to walk off to get some relief before making a move to improve his odds. One of the figures moved around behind some trees and squatted down. His heart was racing so hard it was difficult to catch his breath but the disciplined old Brudvir drew his bowstring like thousands of times before. He released the arrow and it found its mark right in the chest of the squatting figure pinning them to the tree. A female voice wailed in response to the pain. The other two raced over to see why she had yelled. The next arrow catches a second one in the throat before they realized a first arrow had been fired. The third figure raises their bow but is struck in the stomach before they can draw. The old Brudvir felt like he must have overexerted his arm and back as he approached the poachers.
As he walks through the small camp he sees there must be meat and skins from 20 Dryas Elk as well as many other animals here. These are certainly the poachers which have been over harvesting this forests fauna. He moves over the poachers cautiously. The first two he shot have already stopped breathing. The third is lying on the ground struggling to breathe. As he steps over the third he recognizes him as the game warden which had been his replacement. The meteoric decline in fauna populations made perfect sense now. He knelt down and slowly slit the throat of the worst enemy his forest had ever know.
The old Brudvir struggled back to a standing position and moved over to the Mann who had been shot in the neck and rolled him over. It was his son! The decrepit Brudvirs chest felt like it was going to explode as he fell to his knees and doubled over on his sons body. The exertion of the hunt and the shock of killing his only son was too much for the old game warden.

Does my submission look messed up to anyone else?

yes

Ok. Just hit edit and submit again and it looks fine now. weird. It broke up my paragraph structure though. Oh well.

Thank you for all your submissions I'll start judging them and announce winners as soon as I can

Congrats on winning the Sunstone! I thought for sure Bombastus was going to get it by how much traffic his post was getting.

Thank you so much, Nimb! Best of luck with your duchy and stone. Feel free to use the story however you wish, both in and out of game :)

Thank you all again for your participation. All winners and runners up should have received their EP at this point!

If you did not or if you participated and were not listed on the winners or runners up please let me know via forum mail or discord.