Short Story Contest

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    • Twas the night before ChristaKwanzHaka when all through the town
      not a shipment was stirring, not even one pound
      the armor was hung by the barracks with care
      in hopes that a cease-fire soon would be there

      The soldiers were nestled all snug in their beds,
      While visions of women and wine danced in their heads.
      The General in his ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
      Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

      When out by the wall there arose such a clatter,
      I sprang from the bunks to see what was the matter.
      Away to the window I flew like a flash,
      Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

      The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
      Gave the lustre of mid-day to intruders below.
      When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
      But a full team of mortars, and one familiar fat spear.

      He was a little old driver, so lively and quick,
      I knew in a moment it was a pillaging trick!
      More rapid than eagles on mortars they came,
      And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

      "Now Daisy! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
      On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donna and Blitzen!
      To the top of the hill! to the top of the wall!
      Now dance away! Dance away! Dance away all!"

      As dry flowers that before the wild hurricane fly,
      When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
      So to the top of the wall our mail-order brides flew,
      With the laughter of angels, as they were single, too!

      And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the hills
      The prancing and dancing of each woman's skills.
      As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
      Down the chimney our General came with a loud sound!

      He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toe,
      And his clothes were all blinged with diamonds and show.
      A bundle of glittered armor he had flung on his back,
      And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

      His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
      And the women sneaking in behind made his face burn like a cherry!
      Their cute little mouths were drawn up like a bow,
      And the face of our General was as white as the snow.

      The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
      And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
      He had a broad face and a little round belly,
      That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

      He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
      And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
      A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
      Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

      He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
      And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
      And laying his finger aside of his nose,
      And giving a nod, up the wall he rose!

      He sprang to his mortars, to his team gave a whistle,
      And away they all marched like the down of a thistle.
      But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
      "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a DARN GOOD-NIGHT!"


      One account to rule them all.
    • A fathers petition:-


      Hello my friend let me tell you a story,
      A story whose words unfolds slowly to reveal its true glory!
      A story of a boy who sought to love and thought the world was good,
      For all his love he received hate and was misunderstood,

      .
      As he grew he began to think; Why me,Why can't i?
      He searched and he searched,finally he fell on his knees and began to cry,
      his heart was saddened, his mind disheartened,
      he decided to be happy, and play pretend.


      And so he wore his mask for all the world to see,
      A mask of happiness and of joy,
      To hide his sadness and to cloud his fears as countless...
      as the ripples in the pond or the waves in the sea.









      He hoped he could take it off someday,
      The day he found someone,
      Someone who saw through his hood,
      Some one who understood...

      The day came when the young boy grew and became a man,
      A man of faith,hope and dreams as numerous as the grains if sand;

      Then again behold he was wrong,
      Wrong to trust,wrong to hope ,wrong to dream:
      It was all wrong,wrong all along.

      Then one day he thought he found love,
      He thought she was the one he sought,his friend, his true mate'

      Only to realize that the one he loved desired,
      Nothing but his hate!

      His heart was broken,his soul wounded'
      His hopes he tossed aside, his dreams he abandoned.
      His face showed his grief,his words breathed his sorrow,


      But he knew he must soon wear his mask,
      The mask of happiness and of joy;
      The face he shows the world,
      The face built for tomorrow.

      But it was not was easy,for the mask was heavy ,
      And looked like gold.

      To wear it is a burden,
      And causes pain untold.

      Just think my friend,
      To laugh when you want to cry, to sing when you want to die.
      Such was the mask he chose to wear,
      The curse he alone must bear.



      Now i must tell of a time, that has not yet come,
      When the boy will grow old, and grey his hair will become.
      He will breath his last, surely he too will die,
      He will leave this world and soar through the sky,and in heaven he will lie.



      But of course this is just a story,
      The boy may not exist, yet he may.
      I feel that this boy is close to me, even closer than my brother,
      I wish i could help him but i have met him not.


      Should you ever see him scoff him not,

      But show him a kindly hand a smiling face;
      For he owns nothing than a loving heart, a humble soul,
      Keep him close to your heart and he will honour you,
      He will love you more than life,
      Guard you like treasure or riches untold....



      But if you cannot love him, give him this letter,
      Tell him that i will keep him if you cannot,
      I will be there for him and love him better;
      For you do not understand his worth,
      For him i would give my all, all that i can gather,

      For he is my son and i am his father...

      But I am old and weary like the setting sun,
      My days are numbered and my time is done;
      If i die before i see my son,please tell him that he had a father.
      Who loved him very much but I could not be there for him,

      Nor could i do what had to be done.


      I am sorry to trouble you kind sir,
      But i am a poor old man who lost his son;
      i know not who you are,
      Man or woman, boy or girl?
      I request you give him this letter,lest you ever see him in any situation,

      This is a fathers humble petition...................


      One account to rule them all.
    • An Ikariam Christmas Carol

      It was the night before Christmas,
      And all through the town,
      Every creature was stirring;
      No one wore a frown,

      For all through the town,
      On this cold snowy Eve,
      Every sole was singing,
      For they were so pleased!

      First to the doorstep of one grizzly old man,
      They knocked on the door,
      And then they began,


      (To the tune of jingle bells)

      War time drums
      War time drums
      Beating all the way

      Oh what fun it is to loot
      on an ice cold day

      Hey!

      War time drums
      War time drums
      Beating all the way,

      For what fun it is to loot
      on this snowy day Day!

      Hey!

      So they spread the cheer,
      And were on to the shed,
      Where the kept singing,
      To the soldiers in bed,


      (To the tune of Up on the House Top)

      Up on the wall top Bombs are dropped,
      As we watch the phalanx hop,
      Through the breach with lots of guns,
      All to see the battle won.

      Slash boom crash, who wouldn’t run
      Slash boom crash, who wouldn’t run
      Up on the wall top Slash boom Crash,
      Finally the battle’s won!

      So on to the next house the went with a bound,
      Spreading the cheer of the season around,
      And as they walked through the cold snowy night,
      They sang this old carol,
      Filled with delight,


      (To the tune of Hark the Hearld angels Sing)

      Hark the war time gods do sing,
      Glory to our leader the king,
      War time drums do beat the way,
      We exclaim our luck today!
      Defeated all your cities rise,
      To bloody our lovely skies,
      But the leaders orders remain,
      All your troops will be slain!

      So on they marched,
      Back to bed,
      But there’s time for one final song they said,
      And so they sang,
      In somber joy,


      (To the tune of Oh Christmas tree)

      Oh plundered wine,
      Oh plundered wine,
      How lovely is your fragrance,

      Oh plundered wine,
      Oh plundered wine,
      How lovely is your fragrance,

      You bring such glee,
      For you and me,
      You bring those smiles,
      That last a while,

      Oh plundered wine,
      Oh plundered wine,
      How lovely is your fragrance.


      So after they were settled,
      All snug in their beds,
      The leader did tell them,
      a story of dread,

      And so it began,
      With a shiver and sigh,

      It was the night before Christmas and all through the house,
      Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.


      One account to rule them all.
    • Hi, my name is Philetus. I'm a slinger here on Swosaios and I'm new to the barracks,
      having just been conscripted into Princess Aleta's army. I write this by the
      flickering lamps the Sulfur Carabineers have lit (I hear they like to play with
      fire) as so to remember all to tell my family back home on our vineyard. I'm
      cautiously making the spot in the corner by the window mine, it's far enough away
      from the raucous hoplites to be safe, but close to outside air, which I miss. Being
      a slinger was not my first choice, I really wanted to work in the vineyard, but I'm
      happy to be here and I will make the most of it. It's Poseidon time again,the month
      we celebrate the festival called Haloea on the eve of the 26th day of this winter
      month. The seas are rough and the winds strong so the trade ships are at berth. This
      is the first time I will get to join the men in the barracks in celebrating Haloea.
      The women have taken themselves off today, where ever they go, to do whatever they
      do. The hoplites make rude remarks about this and laugh. I saw them go, the women,
      laughing and giggling, arms around each other. Their baskets laden with wine, food
      and, if I can believe the hoplites, cakes shaped like the parts of men and women
      that set them apart from each other. I saw one look at me, her red hair and white
      gown tossed by the sea wind, glancing at me over her shoulder as her friend
      whispered in her ear. I stood tall and proud in my slinger garb, hoping she will
      seek me out on her return. They'll be back tomorrow, their ears filled with the
      priestess' suggestions. That's what the hoplites were laughing and carrying on about
      earlier, but now, the bonfire are being built to celebrate as we wait for their
      return, the wine and mead flow freely. The men have been working on it since the
      women left. Piling on drift wood and what meager offerings the olive trees have
      dropped. Later as the wine sinks into their bodies and minds, and the call of
      Posidean strengthens, there will be dwellings that relinquish their furnishings and
      more to the fire by the hands of these men.We embrace Haloea, and our worship of
      Posidean, the most lustful of the gods. Next summer our numbers will be increased by
      the passion of this time of rites and feasting. I gather my things as I go to help
      attend to the fire. Celebration, life, companionship and love.
      I give thanks for all of these and more.


      One account to rule them all.
    • An Ikariam Christmas

      'Twas the night before Christmas,the town was alone,
      With depleted warehouses no wine, wood or stone
      I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
      and to see just who in this island did live.
      I looked all about,a strange sight I did see.
      No tinsel, no presents,not even a tree.
      No stocking by town hall, just boots filled with sand.
      the wall hung pictures of far off distant lands.
      With medals and badges awards of all kinds,
      a sober thought came through my mind.
      For this house was different. It was dark and dreary.
      I found the island of a raider, once I could see clearly.
      The Raider lay sleeping. Silent, alone,
      curled up on the floor level 26 town hall batterd home.
      The tavern was empty, the museum in such disorder,
      not how I pictured a once feared raider.
      Was this the pillager whom I'd just read?
      curled up in the hideout, with not even a bed?
      I realized the citizens that I saw this night,
      no longer feared this general who was willing to fight.
      Soon round the world the children would play,
      and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
      They all enjoyed growth each month of the year,
      because of the leaders like the one lying here.
      I couldn't help wonder how many laid alone
      on a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home.
      The very thought brought a tear to my eye.
      I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
      The leader awakened and I heard a rough voice,
      "Santa don't cry' this life is my choice;
      I fight for resources, I don't ask for more.
      My life is my God, my colonies, my empire.
      The Raider rolled over and drifted to sleep.
      I was confused I just sat their and didn't make a peep.
      I kept for a while, so silent and still
      and we both shivered from the cold nights chill.
      I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night,
      this pillager of honor once had so much might.
      Then the pirate rolled over, with voice strong and pure,
      whispered "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day, all is secure."
      One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
      Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night."


      One account to rule them all.
    • Our story starts on a cold, dark night. It was 3 days before Christmas in Ikariam and two crooks were stalking through the stone paved streets of Ikariams capital, Lambda. Lambda was a quiet town where the most important persons in Ikariam lived. Lambda was a highly guarded area that was nearly impenetrable from the outside. There were guards that roamed the city all day and night looking for spies and unwanted criminals.
      The two crooks swept quickly up the streets heading for Mt. Ichor were the General, Chief Diplomat, and King of Ikariam lived. They snuck up the empty stairs leading to General Kedric's home.
      It was a large white marble building with beautiful artwork sketched into the columns. Where four hoplites were supposed to be keeping watch were now four very unconscious soldiers. The two crooks crept to the edge of the building and peeked through the lower-most window.
      "Wow, Barry this is our first mission since we got promoted. We better not screw this up."
      "...Why would we screw this up we get in there kidnap the kid and ask Kedric to surrender his army! It's the easiest mission there ever was!" Exclaimed a man cast in shadows.
      The two crooks slid up the walls like panthers and jumped through the windows. Inside they were met by a cold harsh wind and nothing but white cloth blowing in the evening breeze. They glided through the halls looking ever way for trouble. They soon found Kedric's 14 year old sons room. They quickly put a gag n Percy's mouth and carried him back to the window. As they were hopping out of the window they heard a ZING and an arrow came zooming at the speed of light and hit Barry between his eyes sending him falling to the floor. The other man quickly got out and picked up Percy while in hot pursuit by the Ikariam army.
      "Stop yelling boy and try not to scream...you will be returned home soon."
      The shadowy-man started climbing the outer wall which he knew was the most highly protected palce in Lambda but he knew better. He slowed down and jogged to a house almost backed up to the outermost wall. He reached for the door and was pulled in by a very large hand. The hand shoved him into a tght little space in the ground and started to shove him towards the other end of the tunnel.
      When they reached the end of the tunnel Percy was sweating and the two men were visible in the morning light. One Percy knew too well. It was his guardian, Maximus. The other must have been a spy of the land which Ikariam was at war with...Grylon.
      Percy woke up several hours later to realize he was in the royal dungeon of King Joid and Queen Celia.
      "We must message for a meeting with Kedric to er...bribe him to loose this war and grant us the territory. Our peace treaty with them ends in 2 days on Christmas and we can't wait until then for their attack!" yelled King Joid.
      "Calm down Honey, we will show this foul rat his rooms and then meet wth General Kedric by sundown." Exclaimed Queen Cela.
      Percy was led down a road of cobblestone where he was thrown into an empty room wth nothing but a plate of cheese, and a small bed. Percy was so upset all day long wondering how his parents were and then he felt a tug at his heart...what if the King and Queen were to kill his father! Percy quickly ran around screaming at the top of his lungs and pounding on the wooden door!
      "Let me out! Let me out you beasts!" he kept yelling.
      Nothing happened for what seemed like ages until an extremely muscular man stepped into the room. The man chained him up and carried him to the throne room. Percy sobbed once he was thrown on the tile ground in front of his father.
      "Let him free Joid and I will call off the attacks!" yelled Kedric.
      "Now,now, no need to get feisty. We don't want you to call of the attack...we want you dead!" said King Joid.
      "You would not kill me in front of my own sons eyes, would you Joid? Well I can expect it from someone as dirty as you!" Kedric threw himself at the king but was cut short by four burly men stepping in his way. Kedric was thrown back and a man with a club beat him asid the head. By now Percy was crying and a strange feeling was surging through his body...it was almost like the powers of a god!
      "Leave him alone!" Percy screamed while golden light flooded his eyes.
      "What kind of sick joke s this Kedric! What has your son become!" screamed King Joid in horror.
      But Kedric lay still, breathing but heavily unconscious. Percy stood up and broke apart the chains that bound him down.
      "You will never defeat Ikariam! We were created through the High Council and will not die until they have died! Grylon will perish under our feet and you will never kill a mere Ikarian ever again! Because we Ikarians are protected by the god of love and strength! Long live Ikaria! The god of strength and love! And at Christmas time we show our full love and compassion towards our loved ones so Ikaria shines through even more powerful than ever!"
      With that in a shimmer of golden light Percy picked his father up and dissolved into nothingness.
      Percy awoke with what felt like a million maids and nurses nestling around he and his father. Percy had done it! He has defeated the Grylons and by now on Christmas day they would be long gone under Ikariam's army and he had saved his father showing love!
      From that day on in all of Ikariam, Percy and his family and everyone in Ikariam never forgot the true meaning of Christmas to love everyone and feel strength through that love.


      One account to rule them all.