Post by Pixie on Oct 26, 2012 8:24:35 GMT -6
RULES and PARAMETERS:
- Must be an original work (no rewording existing stories)
- Entries should reflect the mood of the bone dragon and the accompanying holiday
- Entries should hopefully be amusing, delightful, thrilling, chilling, scary, insane, absurd, goofy or all of the above!
- Entries must be submitted by 25 Oktober (end of for your time zone)
- A poll will be added (I think a mod can do that!) and the voting will commence 26 Oktober, closing at the end of 31 Oktober
- Entrants should provide their GCID
- All non-winning participants agree to send the winner a gem
-The winning participant agrees to send the second place participant a gem (in the case of a tie, I will send one to make up the difference9
Bonus points for employing absurdity, macabre, word play, etc.!
Illustrations encouraged!
WINNER:
SECOND PLACE:
Participants:
Bmo321 (GCID: bmo321)
Esteriel (GCID Esteriel)
Technofanatic (GCID Technofanatic)
Maidy (GCID Maid4Life)
Myke (GCID myke_kealey)
Pam (GCID PamiJC)
THE ENTRIES
bmo321
Muddy ran like there was no tomorrow. He ran as fast as a fat, dirty, lovelorn Mud Dragon could run. He'd never been fast, would never be fast, and it only helped marginally that he was running past the dreaded Jack-O-Lanterns surrounding Halloween Isle.
If only he'd listened to the other dragons on Rarely Really Isle he wouldn't be in this mess. But he was sure he'd be able to find and rescue his one true love. Her name was Lavaly and she was the most beautiful, most perfect, most spectacular Dragon in all of Dragonisle. Muddy was convinced she was being held hostage under the spell of the evil witches on Halloween Isle.
Rumor had it the witches on Halloween Isle worshipped Mor'Gynne the Ancient, by sacrificing perfectly healthy, happy, chubby, content dragons - and throwing them into the volcano! Muddy was horrified by the thought! Horrified! More so when he realized he was headed straight toward the volcano!
When he realized his mistake he nearly stopped running, but then he heard Lavaly's bone chilling scream and knew he must continue his quest. In seconds he crested the volcano and saw his sweet, beautiful Lavaly at the mouth of the volcano. Her delicate wings were strapped down with duct tape, the wondrous spikes on her spine were covered in duct tape, her beauteous pelicanesque jaw was duct taped shut - she was helpless!
Muddy was furious! He charged around the mouth of the volcano to release his one true love. Only to be stopped by those witches! What were the wizards thinking? Giving the witches total control over this island for weeks every year? Muddy fought valiantly, but he was no match for the Mor'Gynne Witches. They had him subdued and duct taped before he could even imagine a way to overcome their power.
To Muddy's dismay, he and Lavaly had only moments to look into each others eyes and communicate their deepest desires before they were tossed into the volcano as a sacrifice. His only consolation was that the witches allowed him to give her a kiss just before they pitched the couple over the edge . . .
And so they shared a magical first kiss as they fell to their deaths. . . . except he didn't really feel dead . . . just lighter . . . weightless . . . no fat . . . no skin . . . just BONE . . . and there seemed to be someone very bony beside him - with a pelicanesque jaw . . . but she seemed to be upset with him . . . "You idiot" . . . . "my spikes ate through the stupid tape" . . ."all you had to do was use those ridiculous tusks of yours to free my wings and we'd still be REAL Dragons" . . . "now we're just BONES!!" . . . . "Don't EVER touch me again". . . "and take a bath". . . "In CLEAN water" . . . "YUCK!!"
You've gotta love duct tape!! ;-)
Perhaps Muddy was hallucinating because just before all thought left him and his eye sockets filled with blinding light - and then total darkness - he saw an opalescent egg shimmering above the volcano and witches cursing vehemently as they flung spells into the distant night.
And Muddy knew there was hope . . .
('Cause we all need a happy ending )
Estreriel
Bone - a poem by Esteriel, on Flickr
A wizard was heard to bemoan
That his park was an Opal-free zone
He bred Lava and Mud
Expecting a dud
To his joy and delight, 'twas a Bone
His wizardly friends celebrated
While the egg for ten hours incubated
Digestion's a mystery
But treats became history
The dragon grew up while he waited
Though as dragons go, it was skinny
And its roar sounded more like a whinny
To its proud dragon breeder
Bone was clearly the leader
Of Halloween and all things pumpkinny
technofanatic
Long ago before dragon breeding had become commercialized, before there was HALLOWEEN, or spirits and ghosts for that matter, there lived a young women named Newtcha who had become fast friends with a very very old ancient dragon named Willoh. LIke most all aspiring dragon wizards she was poor, as there wasn't a lot of work for dragon wizards in those days. Consequently she lived in a small hut.
One of the reasons the Netwcha and Willoh were such good friends, was that both were extremely interested in animation spells. The two worked day and night on there chosen craft. Early in their friendship, Newtcha crafted a small clay pot and Willoh fired it with his breath. As time passed the two added animation runes, they had developed, to the pot such that the entire pot was covered with them inside and out.
Each and every day the the two of them would work... and work... and work.... to produce a few grains of magic animation dust. They would lovingly add it to the rune pot each night then go to bed. This went on for a very long time as Newtcha far outlived her fellow wizards. Such was the old dragons love for Newtcha that he was actually imparting his life energy, to her to keep her going, so they could continue their work and friendship. Newtcha grew very old and uncomely, she developed a hump in her back and had numerous warts growing on her face. Other than that, she was a wonderful person. Kids had developed the habit of stopping buy her hut for treats of candy and gingerbread cookies.
Newtcha kept her hut very clean, she was actually fastidious, and was continuously sweeping the floor. One morning she awoke to the sound of the broom sweeping all by itself! Her and Willoh realized that over the years, micro specks, of animation dust must have fallen to the ground and the broom had become animated. Eventually the broom could actually fly and carry Newtcha around, which was great as she became older. Even pumpermelons in the pumpermelon patch, next to the hut, began to glow with an inner fire as Newtcha always swept the dirt into a pile and then out the door where breezes would carry the dust to the patch just outside. Willoh loved pumpermelons, by the way, so they were always growing outside the hut.
One fall day when Newtcha was out gathering bat wings and horny toad fangs for her animation dust, Willoh passed away. Dragons live for a very long time but not forever and Willoh's imparting of his life energy to Newtcha finally caught up with him. Immediately, as always happens when a dragon dies, the two nearest dragons, which happened to be a mud and lava dragon, burned off Willoh's dead tissue, and proceeded to carry his bones to the dragon bone yard. As the two dragons flew overhead carrying the bones and keening their dragon bellows of sadness, Newtcha realized that they were carrying her best friend and jumped on her broomstick to follow. As the two dragons laid their burden to rest Newtcha swept by on her broomstick, and in her grief dumped all the animation dust onto the dragons, Willoh's bones, and graveyard!!!! Willoh's bones animated and he came back to life, all the other dragon bones began to jingle and dance and all the dead dragon spirits flew off into the night celebrating their new found freedom. as the sprits celebrated over the pumpermelon patches and homes , the pumpermelons began to glow and broomsticks all over Dragonvale started to dance! The lava and the mud dragon were overcome with lust for each other and bred. Their first offspring was a baby bone dragon.
Newtcha jumped on Willoh's back, the broom followed, and they flew off into the night. So powerful was the magic that it jumbled up Newtcha's and Willoh's's names, since some of Newtcha's life force contained Willoh's life force. As their silhouettes passed across the moon the dragonvale folks remarked "look there goes Witch with her broomstick on Halloween!" As hard as the dragon folk tried to say the names correctly in the Old tongue it kept coming out as Witch and Halloween. Eventually things died down but every fall in Dragonvale you will find:
Dragon bones jiggling....
Dragon spirits and ghosts cavorting...
Broomsticks dancing.....
Pumpermelons glowing....
Lots of muds and lava dragons breeding......
Kids go from house to house to collect treats from folks in memory of Witch and Halloween
As far as anyone knows Witch and Halloween have never landed... but when the moon is big, on a crisp clear night in the fall, you may be lucky enough to see them crossing the sky..
Thus the first limited dragons were the bone dragons, and they were created by Witch on Halloween. A whole genre of limited dragons has ensued, that is growing even today. Unlike the other limiteds that have a natural birth. The bone dragons are definitely unnatural. Legend has it that each bone dragon contains the spirit of one of the dragons in the boneyard and if you can guess that dragon's original name and apply it to your bane dragon you will have luck in all your limited breedings. That's why the wisest breeders change the name of their bone dragons when luck runs low.
Witches Hut is now a historic landmark and every fall is visited by thousands of dragons and people.....
Maidy
Once upon a time there was a big plump Lava Dragon. The Lava Dragon was very proud of his beautiful fiery magma, but he had one problem. Every time the Lava Dragon fell in love and tried to breed, his mate would turn to Ash. Pretty soon none of the other dragons would breed with the Lava Dragon. This made the plump Lava Dragon sad. He became so depressed that he retreated to the hibernation cave and refused to eat.
Over time more dragons came to live in the hibernation cave. The Lava Dragon was afraid he would turn them all to Ash so he finally decided to leave. When the Lava Dragon surfaced the wind was blowing and he heard a distinct whistling sound. Puzzled, he looked down at his stomach, and to his great astonishment, saw only bones. Gone were the flowing mounds of fiery magma. The Lava Dragon was no more. He had become a Bone Dragon. The Bone Dragon spent the rest of his days wandering the land and lamenting the loss of his beautiful fiery magma.
Now every year around Halloween, when the wind is whistling through the trees, the wizard families recount the tale of the Bone Dragon. And every wizard boy and girl makes sure to eat their entire plate of pumpermelons and blushrooms lest they end up like the lonely Bone Dragon.
myke
Preface
The wizards know very little about Mor'Gynne the Ancient, other than she is a witch, she is powerful, and she disappeared one day in October after an unfortunate event involving an animated pumpkin. Mor'Gynne's rise to power was almost as fast as her disappearance was sudden. No sooner was the scryer-wire abuzz with the news of her terrible feats, the crystal balls were aglow again with news of her vanishing.
Her fate is unknown; it is fearfully believed (in the wizard community) that she is still at large. Despite her brief existence as an evil wielder of arcane powers, her renown is wide reaching and she is the subject of much study.
The Bone Dragon and Mor'Gynne the Ancient share some things in common... some known, and some unknown. Foremost, the wizards know very little about the Bone Dragon, and it is the subject of much study.
The Draconomicon (the wizardly epi-tome on dragons) contains but the following information about the Bone Dragon:
Bone dragons can only be found for a couple weeks during the year. The rest of the year it is believed that they burrow underground near cemeteries to be around other bones. But I bet if you breed one and put it in a habitat with other bones, it would stick around. Or perhaps near a heat source to keep away the bone-chilling winter cold?
This entry contains but two verified facts: that Bone Dragons are scarce save for a couple of weeks each year, and that if you successfully breed one it will remain in your park, to the great delight of your guests. The rest of the entry is conjecture. The words it is believed and or perhaps suggest that the master librarian wizard is soft when it comes to his academics (though he is a splendid administrator, and isn't allergic to dust ).
Many a wizard has thought to verify that Bone Dragons like to burrow in cemeteries. The bail and earthly court costs has made it impossible to continue the research.
Commonalities Yet Known
Nicodemus, a young wizard and hobbiest breeder of dragons, was complete. He had taken the last of his wizardly orders, had just bred the last available species of dragon for his collection, and had just been released from jail after his arrest for grave-robbing. He was complete, and yet he was restless. Having nothing left to achieve left him with nothing to do but to wait: to wait either for the next draco-discovery, or for the much anticipated return of the Bone Dragon.
The Bone Dragon... There was something about this dragon that consumed Nicodemus. In part, he did not have one in his park, but also its haunting structure, its undead nature, and that so little was known about its origins... and that its return was so near, so anticipated.
To calm his frantic mind, Nicodemus left his tower to take a walk. After a time, and to distract himself from his aching feet, he let his mind run wild. WHERE have the Bone Dragons been all year? Why is not more known about the Bone Dragon.
The hairs on the back of Nicodemus' neck suddenly stood up on end. This could mean one of two things: that he was cold, or that magic was being performed nearby. Though it was autumn, and though the sun had set, it was a warm evening. Above him, the sky was blanketed in thick, rolling clouds. Around him, the trees and the grass were all engaged in aggravated rustling. Lightning struck to his right, followed very closely by thunder.
Taking in his surroundings, Nicodemus became aware that the ground sloped downwards sharply through a line of trees. Approaching the treeline and peering down, Nicodemus observed a vast excavation site: packed earth and stone as far as he could see.
Lightning flashed again, striking the earth and rock. He could see that the lightning left an impression in the ground, but when his eyes again could focus, he could not believe his eyes.
What he had mistakenly thought was a small fissure in the ground, was an obvious fossil.
First, a claw, then the tail, then a foot, then the webbing of a wing: slowly, the fossil began to move; the fossil extricated itself from the rock, stretched as though waking from a long sleep. Standing erect now, no further away than one lap of the DragonTrack, was a majestic and frightening Bone Dragon!
Lightning struck it and the Bone Dragon belched a thunderous roar in reply. When again his eyes could focus, the dragon was gone, replaced by a cloaked figure with a slender, pointy hat and long flowing hair. The figure began to command lightning from the sky to hit the ground over and over, all around her, exposing a great number of fossilized bones.
At that moment, several things occurred to Nicodemus: that the Bone Dragon was available again, that Mor'Gynne was alive (although perhaps undead), that she was incredibly powerful, that she was capable of animating that which is/was dead, that the Bone Dragon is her creation, that, therefore, the Bone Dragon is evil, that she herself is a Bone Dragon, that just about every wizard is anxiously awaiting the Bone Dragon's return..... that ALL OF DRAGONVALE is in grave grave danger.
EDIT: image lifted without permission from wikipedia. Apparently of an Archaeopteryx
Pam
Each day, as I passed the Scorch dragons they looked more and more miserable. The wizards moved them from lightning to fire habitats, and back again, with increasing desperation.
“They’ve become allergic to their own habitats.” Ralph was one of the more disreputable wizards. He bore the stains of many meals on his robes, and was preceded by the aroma of fried bacon; but he was a kindly soul, and very distressed. Each morning he called in as many of his colleagues as would answer his summons, but day by day the numbers dwindled as they ran out of ideas. Potions, lotions, pills and powders, nothing eased the open sores blooming over the dejected dragons’ skins.
“Scurlage,” said the head dragon keeper, shaking his head and sucking air through his teeth like a mechanic presented with a foreign import he disliked. “Can’t be fixed. Not at any price.”
Ralph looked close to tears, and I promised yet again to search through the library. The problem was that I had run out of lines of enquiry.
We were trudging across the fields to Ye Olde Buffet for breakfast when someone yelled ‘SARJIN PEPPERS!’ The ground began to shake and we barely made it off the farm in time as they roared out of the ground. I caught a shred of torn paper as it blew past, the usual obscure snippet that landed in our dimension whenever these crops were grown. One side had “Loan” in red ink and the other proclaimed “Lee Hearts’ Club BANNED!”
Inside the inn neither of us had much appetite so we avoided the lavish cooked spread available for staff before the park opened. We took our cornflakes to join Jonathan who was gleefully studying the menu for that evening.
“Halloween specials on tonight, a truly Spooktacular event. The skeletons favourite meal – Spare Ribs! Ghosts dessert – Ice Screams.”
“The old ones are the best.” Ralph was staring bleakly at his bowl, but Jonathan took up the challenge.
“Did you hear about the breakfast murderer? They’re looking for a cereal killer!” We winced in unison. “The results of the skeleton beauty contest are in, no body won.” He looked at us hopefully but got no reaction. “OK, I’ll just read my horrorscope then.”
Ralph dropped his spoon and left abruptly. As soon as he was out of the door Jonathan’s attitude changed.
“I need access to the locked archives.”
“We have dragons close to death and you’re after porn books?” I was worried about Ralph, terrified for the dragons, and close to tears.
“There’s more in the closed archives than those.” He was staring straight into my eyes and I suppressed a shudder. “For some workings Halloween is the most powerful night of the year, and I may just have a way to save those dragons.”
One of our libraries was open to staff and researchers only, but the Dark Magics section was restricted even further. As librarian I could give him access, but persuading Ralph to let him try the spells took the rest of the day. It was only because it was the third day that the dragons refused food that he agreed; we didn’t think the baby could survive until morning.
I was instructed to find a clean white cloth, and the strongest (and most expensive) dark chocolate and Ristretto coffee I could buy. Ralph moved the ailing Scorch dragons into a stasis bubble above an empty earth habitat and created a fog to hide us from sight. He could only hold them inside the bubble for an hour, so Jonathan would have to work fast.
Fearing the worst, the other wizards stayed away, and we didn’t dare tell them what we were really attempting. I couldn’t understand the details, and I knew it was very dangerous, yet I insisted on being with them. Both wizards would be working at the limits of their ability and endurance. I vaguely hoped to be useful, and I was too fascinated to stay away. I’d been annoyed with Jonathan since the incident with the fledglings, but I would forgive him anything if he could help these suffering dragons.
He spread the cloth on a convenient rock, poured the coffee and started on the chocolate. I revised my level of forgiveness.
“The chocolate and coffee are for you?”
“Sure,” he swallowed and grinned, “got to keep my strength up!”
I stayed silent and tried not to grind my teeth. Ralph was already sweating in the cold night air, strain beginning to show in his wiry body. Jonathan moved the coffee flask and conjured a glow of firelight over the now empty cloth, carefully placing at its centre a small blob of blue. It looked like the mysterious stuff Kairos plays with, and appeared to be squirming.
The spells were oddly anti-climactic. There was much muttering and sweating, and I think the occasional curse. Then Jonathan swept up the blue blob and reached upwards as his arms became enveloped in multi-coloured hues. He flung the wisps of colour toward the frozen dragons and I gasped as the flesh vanished, revealing only the skeletons. For a moment I thought they were dead, but Ralph released his stasis spell and ran toward them, laughing and crying at the same time, as I looked in horror.
Jonathan straightened from his exhausted slump against the stone when saw my stricken expression. He waved a hand over my eyes and immediately I saw the Scorch dragons, fully healed. The little guy was already flapping stubby wings and hopping over to the food. The fully grown one was screaming his joy to the sky, red scales gleaming.
“Now you see as a dragon does, and if you touch them you will feel healthy, healed skin.”
“Brilliant! Now they can survive in an earth habitat.” Ralph thumped Jonathan on the back, almost knocking him over, as he admired the dragons who were both munching enthusiastically. “You’re a medical genius!”
“Hey, I’m a wizard not a doctor!”
“What gave you the idea to try this?” I asked.
“It was a park visitor. He told me to try a little of the wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff from Kairos, and where to look in the library for the spells. I tried to ask him for more details but he ran off and there was a weird grinding wail from behind the DragINN. When I looked he was gone.”
“You’re the only one of us daring and powerful enough to pull it off.” Ralph bowed deeply, tears shining his eyes. “You have the right to call debt on me at any time.” The most serious oath any wizard could make, it was a promise to put all his powers at Jonathan’s command.
“Isn’t that the spirit of Halloween?” Jonathan asked softly. “Becoming more than you otherwise could be, limited only by your own imagination?”
“I even forgive you for the incident with the fledglings.” I hugged him as Ralph turned back to us, looking surprised.
“Jonathan’s never been in charge of the fledglings, that was all Tommy's fault.”
… but that … is a tale for another day!
Pity votes encouraged for 2750!
