Contest April-May 2022 Short Story Contest Tie Breaker

Spoiler: "Faded Gods"

Faded Gods

I should never have bought that treasure from Lustria.

It has been four days since the incident and my dreams are still haunted by visions of ancient stone cities, the rasping of lizard tongue, and the gaze of something older than the gods.

I am putting the following account from quill to paper so that others may know of what I have seen. I fear I am losing the grip upon my mind and I may sink into true madness. But I still have time, if only a little.

My name is Markus Heissmann, a scholar, collector, and professor at the colleges at Altdorf. Despite the constant intrusion by the Witch Hunters and Church of Sigmar, I had made a name for myself in the study of the religion and deities of the Empire, Bretonnia, Estalia, Tilea, Araby, Ancient Nehekhara, Albion, the Holds of the Dwarfs, and more recently the old gods of the mysterious lizardfolk of the New World.

Precious little exists in our knowledge about the realm of Lustria, so when a ship did return to Marienburg with treasures taken from the stone cities of that realm, I spent a considerable sum in purchasing a gold chased tablet inscribed with serpentine shapes and what seemed like glyphs of god-like beings.

I studied that treasure for several weeks, making sketches of the god-like images. One was of a great cat-like beast that seemed to be shown towering above tree tops, another a great sun-like image that seemed to be shown as alive (great strange jointed arms reaching to touch the land below), another a great feathered serpent that wrapped itself around the bottom of the tablet, from its feathers small carved humanoid shapes seemed to emerge. Long I pondered them and what they were and what they represented.

And yet one morning, I found the tablet had changed. The great cat-like beast had vanished from the tablet. For a time I thought I was imagining it. Clearly I was tired (I had spent the previous evening with my friend Von Richtheim discussing the origins of Ulric over a bottle or three of fine Tilean vintage) so at first thought my mind was playing tricks on me. But as the days wore on it became clear that one of the god-like beings had truly vanished.

The following day, I found that the sun-like entity had also vanished from the tablet. Strange new glyphs like lettering where it had once risen proudly. Disturbed by this, I kept the tablet in constant vision.

It was just after dusk when my wearied eyes saw the feathered serpent shift and turn as if alive. A faint blue light seemed to shine from the tablet and the winged serpent appeared to sink into the tablet. Without reasonable thought I placed my hand over where it had been and found my vision and mind flung to a different place.

Stars wheeled around me and voices that were less sound but mathematical and soul fired meaning threw me around the void like a ship lost in a great storm. I was a single guttering light against beings so ancient and unfathomable that it drove me insensible. I think I screamed as visions of a world shaped by inhuman hands flashed before me. I saw the children of the old gods, the fabled lizardfolk. I saw them build great cities and I watched as Chaos destroyed all and broke the song of the stars. And yet in the darkness, I heard a sibilant hiss and a great serpent appeared from the darkness. Unlike it’s feathered sibling, this great serpent exuded fury and vengeance. It regarded me with such anger that I felt my heart grow cold as death. And then darkness took me.

I awoke to find the tablet bare of the strange Lustrian gods apart from a new one that had appeared. The coiled serpent of twin tails that regarded me with such hatred and hunger from the tablet that I thought it might spring forth and devour me.

Since then the great serpent watches me from the tablet and all my nights are filled with nightmares of Lustria and its creators. I dare not go to anyone lest they think I am mad. But I must be mad now. The old gods are gone. But one remains. Vengeance remains. And we will all be consumed by it until the stars reawaken.

The nightmares grow longer.


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Mein Herr,

We discovered the above entry clenched in the hand of Markus Heissmann, who was found dead in his home. It would appear that he had been poisoned by some exotic toxin we have been unable to identify. Curiously there were two puncture marks upon his neck. His body was lying upon a golden tablet that was featureless and blank. We will continue our investigation into Herr Heissmann’s murder, though our leads have brought us little.

It is my belief that pressure from the university and his failing research drove Herr Heissmann to lunacy and he took his own life to appease this snake god he believed was hunting him.

We await your orders,

Adept Varius.

Spoiler: "The New One"

The New One

I watch as ten of my skinks are obliterated. It matters not, as I can now effortlessly create more. It wasn’t always so easy. We taught ourselves in a desperate time, and hid our Seraphon creations amongst our spawned Lizardmen. Do I have time to contemplate the past in such a battle? It’s like second nature now, creating the Seraphon, but the first Seraphon was a challenge, though with him we were creating something greater. I suppose if I am going to remember this, I should remember from the beginning.


In the beginning, the Old Ones created the Slann, then the rest of our Lizardmen brethren. We had revered the Old Ones as perfect beings, how naive we were. Things were perfect for a time, until they began creating the lesser races. The elves weren’t too terrible, wise, keen on learning from us. Then came the short furry ones, stubborn, insolent, but their crafting skills were beyond comparison. Had we all continued working together, we could have had utopia, great libraries, advancing the technologies to the betterment of ourselves, and continuing the work of the Old Ones across the universe. Then came the humans, and the halflings.Keen workers, doing amazing things with the short time they had, their next generations improving on the previous ones. Their fiery passion, could have rallied all of the races together into a great collective. Their hubris and stupidity was the undoing of us all.


The Old Ones presented themselves to us all. Many of us gathered, representatives from all of the races, the great plans to be revealed. The Great Plans became the Great Catastrophe. The humans created the first blasphemy. They demanded longer life spans, greater strength, more knowledge. They spat their demands with that fiery passion they are so known for. The old ones began to speak, to soothe these beasts, but it was too late. The first stone had been cast. The stones from slings, the spears, and arrows flew. First the loose stones and stone spearheads of the halflings and humans. Then the refined ore of the tipped bolts, as the dwarfs joined the outrageous cacophony. Finally the ornately carved arrowheads of the elves.


As the stones and metals pierced the skin of the Old Ones, they shattered their bones, rotted their flesh, and turned them into monsters. Daemons. Shells of their former selves, and for this blasphemy, our world was cursed.


Chotec had tried to step between the volley and the other Old Ones. He fell first. We watched as the Sun God writhed in pain, twitching and shifting, before transforming. We heard the agonising screams in our minds, as Chotec became the Great Beast. The once warm and lifegiving rays of the Sun were now harmful, burning, spreading chaos like a cancer through the world.


Quetzl fell, the screams still haunt my dreams, and when he rose, he had called himself Khorne. Demanding the flow of blood, demanding the skulls of any and all creatures.


Tzunki’s waters were now poisoned, giving life to unnatural and unholy things. Calling itself Nurgle.


Tepok’s feathers grew oily as the once beautiful serpent like features became twisted and bird-like, Tepok had reemerged as the being called Tzeentch.


Xholanka who had been of the deepest intellect, a perfectly logical and orderly being, was now called Slaanesh, and given to hedonistic pleasures and excess.


Tlazcotl, once unmoved by the events around, would now actively cause despair and strife.Malal it called itself, as it absorbed some of the other Old Ones into itself.


Itzl took the brunt of the dwarven bolts, turned his back upon the cold blooded, the hatred inside warming his blood. Itzl took the shape of a large bull, becoming Hashut.


Huanchi initially shied away, changing his appearance to become a grey cloaked man, to try to blend in with the crowd. Slipping away like a scared rat. Huanchi would evolve again later into the Great Horned Rat, but for now, in this warped human-like form, it would spread chaos like a rat spreads disease.


The old ones had abandoned us, and yet these daemon forms of the former gods came back to haunt us. They were turning our once beautiful and orderly world into a pit of filth and chaos. In a vain attempt to heal the Old Ones, we continued to worship the former versions of themselves. Things continued to get worse.


Deep in our contemplations the question was asked, a blasphemy in and of itself, but a question that we all collectively held in private. Only one was brave enough to say it to all of us, the only one we would not question. Lord Kroak. We would work together to create an Old One, a new Old One. We would create Sotek. Our greatest achievement and our greatest shame. Who were we to create a god?


The next problem was, in order for our new Old One to gain enough power to stem the tide of the chaotic daemon forms of the Old Ones, Sotek would need followers. Well, if we were creating a god, how hard could one skink be? Tehenhauin, the prophet, was the first Seraphon. We created and recreated him. HIs first version carved the Plaque of Sotek. We then refined him and he helped the Skinks of Chaqua to craft the Blade of the Serpent’s Tongue.


Once the filthy rat men of our form Huanchi poisoned and annihilated the temple city of Chaqua, we had perfected our Tehenhuain. At first the remaining skinks of Chaqua were wary, but he swiftly took the lead, and rallied them. We used what we had learned of hatred and passion from humans all those years ago. It didn’t take long for more skinks, kroxigor, and even saurus to join in to the cult of Sotek. We of course would not confirm or deny the existence of Sotek. First and foremost, we held guilt about creating the New One, to try to Kill the Old Ones. Secondly, we couldn’t be sure any of this would work.

As the fervour of the skinks rose, and the blood of the Skaven flowed, we felt that our god Sotek was taking shape. We knew that it had to be ready by the day of the twin-tailed comet. We could feel Sotek’s power growing with each and every skink follower. With each new rat corpse, the power flowed. Each time Tehenhuain was killed, we simply recreated him. It got easier each time, and the skinks believed he truly was unkillable, and the rightful prophet of Sotek.


On the day of the comet we created as many serpents as we could and flushed out the Skaven scum. Sotek, our New One, had come to being and finished the job. We put every bit of energy we had into giving Sotek life. We told our attendants to tell the rest that we were deep in contemplations over a missing tablet. In reality, we needed to recover, we had exhausted ourselves mentally and physically.


Sotek grew in power, this may be blasphemy, but I believe truly greater than the Old Ones had been. He left our world to seek knowledge, to find a way to restore an order. Sotek would communicate with us, as we began working towards joining Sotek in the universe. Sotek evolved, he created a race of Great Drakes. He became truly better than we could have hoped. Taking on the name of Dracothian, it was he who guided us from the destruction of the old world. We will continue to fight the Old Ones, until they have found a way back to themselves, or we have destroyed them completely. We have the means to create beings greater than they were. Though, my greatest fear is what happens if we create a New One, and it suffers the same fate as the Old Ones?

The tie-breaker. Here is the original short story contest with the other stories, reviews, etc.

 

Last time, I got down to three top choices fairly easily and got to two after much cognitive dissonance. One of these I voted for, the other I wanted to vote for but couldn't. I'm going to take my time and read these again rather than automatically pick the one I voted for the first time.

 

Same as me. This time the vote carries double the weight.

 

I totally agree. @Scalenex, arrange the deal!

 

I spoke with our sponsors. All subsequent contests will have double the usual prize money, and just this once, the current contest will have triple the usual prize money.

 

Faded Gods is the best story, if you look at nerrative structure and even writing skills. The author knows and loves Lovecraft, and we see that. Excellent piece, which guarantees the reader a dive into its supernatural horror mood, despite its shortness.

The New One don't have those qualities, but it's by far the most original piece, with a unique (and brilliant) take on the birth of the Chaos Gods and Sotek.

In my heart it was a clash: writing technique vs original idea.

It was a hard decision, but in the end i confirmed my previous vote.

 

I believe Dolly Parton takes her craft as an entertainer seriously and works hard at improving her ability to sing and perform, but I doubt she has ever worked a normal 9 to 5 job her whole life.