Welcome to Gaia! ::

I'm starting up a writing contest because I have nothing better to do with my time, and it'll be fun. Here's the rules.

The writing can be any style that you want.
You can submit as many writings that want.
I'm not worried about language or innapropriet content.
Please keep lenght in mind, we will have to read more than one.
All entries must be in by August 10th, so this will give you plenty of time.
There is no entry fee.
There will be a first and second place winner. The 1st place winner will get 5,000 gold and a random item, the 2nd place winner will get 3,000 gold.
To submit an entry, send it to my in a pm or through e-mail, look_its_waldo@yahoo.com with you're username in the subject line.

When the entries are posted, they will not have the authors place next to them, they will be posted with numbers so that people do not know who the author is and voting is done by the quality of the piece. Voting will last 10 days so that there is time to read all entries.

Everyone is welcome to vote, it doesn't matter if they've submited anything or not.

Commentary will be welcome for writings unless the author doesn't want it.

I do have bad luck with computer, so if I lose internet access around any of the deadlines, don't worry, I'll still have everything posted within the week.

Any questions?

Remember this contest is for fun, so have fun.

Lord Alhazred was the only one to enter the contest, so by defult he is the winner. Here is his submission.


Aldaríon's steady, unladen, monotonous steps were all that pervaded his senses as he traversed through a rather impressive plain. Stalks of wild grown wheat and rye groped beyond the horizon, seemingly to go on forever. Sightly wild flowers sprouted from the crevices of scattered boulder's that only Father Time knew how they made their appearance here. The bright colors of the blossoms attracted bees from across the glade, determined to syphon off the sweet nectar. A small herd of elk pranced about in the far distance, their bristled coats glistening in the sunlight. All of this was invalid to Aldaríon, for he was in a rather dazed state at the moment. The satin hood was placed well over his eyes, preventing any view of the natural beauty around him. The rest of his cloak was dyed in a somber violet which could be easily passed over with a glance, but if caught by the eye, it would seem incredibly elegant. The trimmings of the cloak were embroided with intricate designs that only addedto the bedazzlement of the royal fabric. The cloak billowed as small tugs of wind teased at the gorgeuous colors. On the rear of the materpiece, was a sewn in emblem that Aldarion had created himself, as well as the rest of the wear. Underneath the hood rest a handsome, but seldom seen face. Thin, delicate eyebrows hovered over two closed eyelids which hid frightening purple eyes, one of which bore the crest of the Daemon. Set firmly between hs eyes was a straight and slender nose, and below that were lips that hadn't given the slightest hint of a smile in several decades.

Mounted on his back as if were some cheap toy, which in all instances it was not, bumped Uramon's staff, Galdor. Little more than a meter and a half tall, the staff shined with an blush burgundy and pitch black ebony. The pommel of the staff, if it could even be called a staff, resembled something of a dragon's claw centralizing on to one point. At the apex of the strange pole was a spear-like construction that pronged out into two points. Aldaríon held much care for this warped trident/spear and staff, for it was his master's. Within the strange construction was an element known as Neutromus, a fairly rare substance indeed. The mysterious sand-like element could convert itself into another one of its kind if that specific type of mana is forced upon it. This made Galdor quite an aide in battle for as it absorbed any type of magic, it amplified it severalfold. Galdor was a weapon that Aldaríon feared using for it was susceptible to breaking the same as any other weapon, and he was not formally taught in the art of spearplay.

Aldarion continued at a steady pace, his footsteps never ceasing their perfect cadence with his heartbeat, though his eyes were closed. Was he...sleep walking? The flow of oxygen entered and exited his nostrils as it would for a sleeping man, slow and steady. No, it was more of a deep-thought kind of state. From his mind's eye, Aldarion could make out everything around him, yet at the same time he ws pondering thechemical structure of the human body. Slowly he recited in his head the elements Uramon had spent days and weeks teaching him. Calcium, Phosphorus, Potassium, Sulfur, Sodium, Chlorine, Magnesium, Iodine, Iron Even the voice inside of his own head sounded melancholic. The Daemon merely contained itself and sat, observing the tumult of knowledge Aldarion contained in that cranium of his. Aldarion then began to recount the percents of how present one element was in the body, correspondingly of course, 1.5482%, 1.0048%, 0.4893%, 0.3254%, 0.30- The Daemon interrupted his train of thought with a voice that may have been female, though the frequency had far too low of an octave. Its thoughts mingled into his blundered mind, We are being tailed

Indeed they were, for the last kilometer or so, in fact. Aldarion had made sure to keep his auxilary tier of senses to detect if they were getting closer, and they were. Judging by the number of footsteps....three. There were three of them. As an extra detail, their stepswere light, which likely indicated that they were mildly armored. Good, he wouldn't have to waste too much of his precious mana to deal with these vagabonds. His staff might be able to deal a killing blow to one of them by striking them across the head, or by impaling them through the breastplate into the heart, but that would leave a gap of opportunity for one of the others to lop off his head with a swift strike. The thieves inched closer, their steps became more staggered. They were becoming excited, eager for the kill, eager to see what this man would have in his coffers to go along with that expensive cloak of his. Aldaríon began to mumble something under his breath as the lead of the three broke into a sprint. He felt a tingle in his palm as pale lavender and emerald flames danced across arm. The fire dripped from his fingers as if it were comprised of liquid, though when it splashed on the ground it merely disappeared, as if it never existed. The liquid fire did not burn Aldaríon, in fact it felt as if he had shoved his hand into a mound of fresh fallen snow.

The first of the thieves made a foolish mistake by sounding a battle cry before he struck. Aldaríon spun in time to see the man in the arc of his swing, ready to bring it down upon him. With the man's build, it appeared as if he could rend Aldaríon in twain with a single swipe, a shame he would die here. He lunged his hand forward into the man's breastplate, the poorly smithed metal parted for his aflame hand as if it wanted to avoid touching the fire. Aldaríon felt his finger tips sink into the man's chest, the skin bubbled and charred, he pushed farther. Muscles could be felt shrinking and condensing as the intense heat that eminated from his hand cooked the b*****d inside out. The ribs gave way as they became nothing more than a chalky substance, the marrow disintigrating. Aldaríon groped for that one organ, the key to life, the heart. Another moment of crisping the inside of the man, he found purchase. Aldaríon gripped the beating orb and its rhythm ceased as it turned into nothingness. The mugger let out an immense groan of excruciating pain as Aldaríon worked the procedure within two seconds. The corpse stood straight for a moment longer then it collapsed to the side. A gaping hole in the chest, the metal rent apart by a fearsome force that was his hand. Small wisps of ghostly smoke disapeared into the passing breeze, the smell of cooked meat was prominent.

The spellcaster held up his hand to the other two adversaries, crimson dripped from his hand among the intertwined green and purple. The blood popped and sizzled on his fingertips, then evaporated into nothing. The pale flame creeped down his arm and dripped from his elbow, disappearing as they hit the dirt. Aldaríon took one step towards them with his hand held out. The two of them fled. Snapping his fingers, Aldaríon ceased the flow of mana that seeped into his arm and the fire snuffed. Retreating back into his cloak, he turned back to his previous direction and continued to trek. The Daemon spoke It still eludes me how you've developed these magics while in your childhood. Your magic is astounding, yes, but it defies all laws of the ethereal realm! Aldaríon said nothing to the Daemon.

0.3058%, 0.2458%, 0.2218%. 0.1498%, 0.0982%...