Writer's Workshop 3: Submissions (Round One)

hey folks, let’s use this thread for submissions/casting votes… and to recap from the original thread:

in the interest of K.I.S.S., and given the recent additions to combat in SH, I think the “theme” for this first round should be conflictthe next round can serve as a continuation to this initial entry

we’re keeping it super simple this time folks… quicker “rounds” (which translates into shorter windows to write/vote) in the hopes that the pace will help improve the participation:

  • in 350 words or less, tell a tale of conflict/struggle as it relates to the SH setting (goblin attacks on a settlement, etc.)
  • 5 days to submit your story (deadline to enter this first round is Sunday, Feb 1st)
  • 3 days to vote (deadline to vote on entries for this first round is Wednesday, Feb 4th)

as per usual, custom titles will be handed out for those that place in the top three positions (after all the “rounds” of this workshop have been completed)… as well as (potentially) some Steam swag… :wink:

as an example of the 350 word threshold/requirement, here’s an example entry:

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Integer at tellus justo. Ut aliquet rutrum ex. Ut eget hendrerit dui, in lacinia massa. Aliquam non consequat orci. Proin sit amet dolor eget urna tempor rhoncus. Aenean lorem purus, vehicula id turpis nec, dignissim fringilla turpis. Nam in ligula a neque vulputate venenatis quis nec metus. Nulla faucibus libero a nunc mollis, a accumsan ante interdum. Nunc nibh metus, feugiat et urna vitae, fringilla dignissim tortor. Maecenas efficitur orci libero, in placerat est malesuada nec. Proin a tristique mi.

Donec sed facilisis lectus. Integer sed tellus at augue porttitor dignissim dictum sagittis erat. Suspendisse id sapien at felis tempus mollis. Donec pretium placerat gravida. In tincidunt malesuada dolor, id tincidunt diam ullamcorper eu. Etiam porttitor luctus mauris. Nulla faucibus erat placerat, tincidunt sem vel, rutrum nisl. Sed ultrices ante sed quam maximus, nec mollis ligula tincidunt. Aenean quis elementum arcu. Cras diam magna, luctus eu tristique pellentesque, ornare feugiat odio. Integer in dui egestas, euismod purus nec, sagittis turpis. Sed in enim leo. Suspendisse et volutpat erat. Duis tempor nunc sit amet libero ultricies pharetra.

Phasellus ipsum lacus, volutpat vitae turpis nec, tincidunt gravida orci. Vivamus magna dui, dictum ut nisi et, elementum tempus metus. Maecenas varius accumsan mi, nec ultricies elit finibus sed. Cras ullamcorper sed risus a pretium. Duis quis erat in urna vestibulum eleifend sit amet ut odio. Fusce et blandit odio. Pellentesque eu lorem sem. Quisque id erat sem. Phasellus tortor lectus, pharetra ac tristique at, ultricies at urna. Fusce venenatis sed est nec iaculis. Nunc ut ex tempor, iaculis sapien a, tempus felis. Nunc non urna hendrerit ex viverra feugiat. Vivamus velit nunc, suscipit ac neque eu, faucibus convallis nibh. Quisque nisi sapien, aliquam a venenatis eget, ultricies eget nisl.

Nunc eu dui auctor, maximus tellus quis, dignissim nunc. Sed in sem et lectus vulputate mattis. Curabitur massa massa, efficitur sit amet tellus suscipit, venenatis consequat diam. Nam quis lacus tellus. Maecenas luctus ipsum lorem. Nam in eros non sapien cursus elementum sed ac velit. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Sed urna nisl.

fairly easy to generate for the writer, and easily consumable by the reader… :+1:

have fun! :smile:

1 Like

The Day Was Lost

The sunset rose over the horizon, the defenders makeshift banners fluttered in the slight breeze. Their makeshift barricade had been hastily put together with chairs, wagons, wardrobes and whatever else the townsfolk could pile on top the mound of furniture. 21 villagers in all lined the barricade, each wielding a hoe, shovel or another piece of metal equipment they found lying around. Jack Barnes stood behind the barricade, his cloth shirt not doing anything at all to protect him from the wind. Clutched in his hands was the scythe he used for farming, alongside him was his brother with a large stick he found and a bucket for a helmet.

The goblin army appeared over the hill, Jack counted at least 29 of them. One of the Goblins rode a large ram. Jack assumed that must be the Chieftain. The Chieftain wore rusted iron armour and wielded a nasty looking club. The rest of the goblins only had sticks and stones but they had numbers on their side.

A horn sounded a long, low moan and the goblins charged down the hill. A few villagers finally lost their nerve and fled, where to, Jack didn’t know. The goblins stopped about a metre from the barricade and threw stones, one of the stones scraped Jack’s elbow but his brother was less lucky and Jack saw a large stone dent his helmet disorienting him. The Goblin Chieftain was still up on the hill watching from afar.

The goblins started to climb up the barricade, a few were kicked down but they just resumed their climb. The first one up, Jack butted with his scythe but not before the goblin had grabbed the neck of his brother’s jerkin and the goblin and boy fell together into the goblins below where they swarmed the poor boy. Jack looked across the line and saw the others fairing worse, villagers were falling to the goblin horde. Those who were knocked down for even a second were dragged off the wall into the goblins. The Villagers were falling back, the goblins gaining ground and the day was lost.


##Favorite time of the Day ##

It was his favorite time of the day. In fact, it was his favorite thing to do.

Raiding season was open, and this year would be no different. Kadash ran with the rest of his pack through the forest as they neared their destination: The Village of Bumblyburg. The settlers had appeared, in a large flash of light, without warning only a few days ago. In just a few short hours they transformed the land into a small village, ripe for raiding. Unbeknownst to them, the Goblin scouts had secretly stolen a few of their resources, and now the pack was coming for the final blow.

Kadash was almost at the village outskirts when he spotted a villager, kneeling over a small box in the forest. Stealthily, he crept up on him until he was only a few short feet away. Then the Bell rang, and the villager looked up in panic to see Kadash running towards him. It was also the last thing he would see. As Kadash wrenched his sword out of the corpse of the villager, he could hear the sounds of battle from the village. Not wanting to miss out, he sprinted towards the village center, eager for more battle.

As Kadash reached the first building, he could see the bodies of several of his pack lying on the ground, along with two villagers. The rest of the villagers were fleeing from the battlefield, but to no avail as the goblins simply ran them down. Running past a small wooden hut, Kadash paused as he heard a whimper from inside. Curious, he opened the door to reveal a villager, hiding behind a collapsed table with tears streaming down her face. She looked up with terror in her eyes as the door opened, and rapidly crawled back towards the wall. Kadash looked at her for a moment, and then slowly closed the door behind him.

Leaving the now-burning hut, Kadash wore a broad smile. Observing the village, he could see fire spreading to all the wooden huts. His smiled grew larger. Truly, this is his favorite time of the day.


Day 2: We have arrived at the base campsite and begun to clear ground for the Great Work. The selected site is previously unexplored and well-populated with many fine ancient trees. There is therefore a great deal of prime timber growing here, which should greatly contribute to the Project.

Day 5: Logging is proceeding apace. Chuck and Mary report that we have cleared several acres of forest and are building large stockpiles of lumber. Soon we will be able to lay our initial foundations!

Day 9: I was greatly surprised to find that today’s inspection was a total catastrophe. Despite the importance of our Project, it appears the workmen have not even yet broken ground! Indeed, many areas that had been reported cleared are in fact still completely overgrown, and at least two more acres must be cleared before we can begin to lay the necessary foundations.

Day 11: I have spent the past two days trying to account for the lack of progress so far. Our progress is slowed considerably as superstitious nonsense has spread throughout the camp. Workers are now claiming that many of the trees “scream” when sawed. I have sent a request for a new allotment of workers uninfected with such pernicious nonsense.

Day 15: The new allotment cannot arrive soon enough. Two of our workers managed to injure themselves with their own saw. Now half the camp is outright refusing to do any further lumber work at all. Looking out over our camp I can see no progress at all since last week. If I did not know it was my imagination, it would almost seem that the area we have cleared has actually shrunk.

Day 20: I have listened to too many of the workmen’s stories. Tonight the wind creaking through the trees seems like a chant of screams. If I were weak-minded, I would think that the forest had closed in again around our camp entirely, cutting us off from all outside aid. I hope the new workers arrive soon.

MS found in a tree branch


Decided to take a slightly more humorous take on it…


“It won’t work, you know.”

“Shut up Steph.” Tom shifted the flagpole on his shoulder and shook his head. “We’ve not seen a single living thing all month. Well, not counting rabbits and trees and such. We’ve made it, alright?”

“It doesn’t matter,” responded Steph gloomily. “It doesn’t matter where you want to found the New Heights.”

“You know, we could make a start here,” piped up Tony, dropping the log he’d been carrying. “Lots of trees, plenty of wildlife to eat, and we’ve even got the mountain just over there. Nice climate too.”

“Good idea!” replied an enthusiastic Tom. At least this way Steph might be too busy to grumble. Well, not grumble. Issue predictions of inevitable violence was more accurate. Raj had “borrowed” their birth certificates from the town hall when the gang had decided to leave the Ascendancy’s interminable wars with the goblins and titans, and Tom had made sure to have a peek at them all. His had “optimistic explorer” written on it, which sounded about right. He couldn’t make head or tail of Steph’s “genre-savvy” line though. She hardly ever read books.

“How’re the sheep doing?”

Geoff looked gave the ewe a pat on the head and looked up over the fence as Steve wandered over. “Not bad, all things considered.” He nodded over at one of the sheep. “Should be able to get you a nice fleece tomorrow from that there ram. How’s the farm?”

Steve held up a dirty green stem, looking pleased with himself. “Doing great. Plenty of weeds trying to choke the corn, but just you wait.”

“Good stuff! Though mind you, I wouldn’t trade this for my old place,” added Geoff. “Politicos stealing everything not nailed down, then them titans. Glad we got away to be honest.”

“Goblins!” They’re heading for the barn!”

“And they’re armed!”


Steph sighed inwardly. Why, why, couldn’t she just have been wrong for once?[/quote]

With apologies to Team Radiant and the mods.


"I don’t see the problem,” Steve said between bites of berries. His face making a sharp grimace as he bit into the fruit.

Renny frowned at his fellow Hearthling and then down at his own plate. “How can you not? Ever since we traded those picket fences for that cursed bunny doll, we’ve stopped all production on everything around us to build that… that… eyesore

He tossed his plate of berries on the ground in disgust. “And we haven’t had anything to eat but berries for four days. Doesn’t this just seem off?”

“Whoa whoa,” Steve quickly patted the air in front of him. “You do know HE can hear you right? The complaints get logged, I’m sure things will look up soon.”

Renny stood up and starred at the skeletal framework of the large tower in the distance. “I don’t know, Steve. We’ve got seven poorly constructed beds, a reserve of berries, and a fire pit. That’s it. I’m worried that HIS obsession over this bunny could be the ruination of us all.”

Steve shook his head. “Keep your conspiracies to a minimum, you’ll worry the others.”

“You mean those that aren’t trapped up in that tower starving and staring blankly out into nothing? They’re stuck Steve, and I’m going to save them.”

Steve waved a dismissive hand and grabbed another plate of berries.

Renny nearly jumped out of his skin when the figure appeared out of the woods.

“Oye, you lost Hearthy?” The toothy green skinned creature said, his voice thick with vicious humor.

Renny knew to show weakness to goblin would mean death, so he stood a little straighter before responding, trying hard to keep his teeth from chattering.

“I’ve watched you stealing our wood for days now, and I’ve seen you burn it out of sight of the village.”

The goblin grinned, his small tusks pushing down against his bottom lip. “You gonna try to stop me?”

Renny smiled back, which seemed to set the goblin off his guard.

“No, but I have a mission for you. Something that I personally can’t destroy, no matter how hard I try, but I know you can.”

Renny pulled a scroll out from his winter jacket and handed it over to the creature that took it warily, peering down onto a moonlit drawing.

A crude picture of a plush bunny doll stared back at him.


The Footman

I was pacing the wall this night. Not much was stirring in the woods. It was quite dark. Hard to see anything. Terrin and Rachel was out checking the stockpiles.
Making sure everything was quiet. I was bored. Every night the same thing.

“Patrol here, patrol there. Check the farms, check the stockpiles. Nothing ever happens.” I said to myself. “Oh well, its my job I guess.”

I continued to pace my route. The villagers all asleep in their beds. It was a hard day for them today. They mined a lot of earth, and hit a pocket of Copper.

“I wounder what they might use that for tomorrow?” I wondered.

Ahead in the wood, I saw a light go up. “What could that be, maybe a villager traveling this night?” I said quietly to myself.

Then I heard them coming, the howling and yelling. It was goblins.

“Goblins, Where is Terrin and Rachel!” I thought to myself. “Out on the other side of the village.”

I branded my weapon and climb down the ladder. “Well I gotta stop them.” I was thinking on the run.
Running out the gate I saw four goblins running this way. All wearing crude armor and branding crude weapons.

“NOT THIS NIGHT!” I yelled.

I advanced to them, readying my sword. They brought up their weapons. “Four against one” I thought as I continued my rush at them. I raised my sword at the first goblin that reached me, swinging hard downward. He blocked my strike. “This is gonna be a nasty fight” I was thinking as I blocked his strike. The other three goblins reached me, all taking swings at me. “I had my training I’m ready for this.” I thought as, I continued to parry their blows. I get a lucky poke in and hit one of the Goblins. He falls to the ground hurt. One of the other goblins just starts booking it for the village leaving me with the last two. I worried, “I hope Rachel or Terrin will catch him” I said to myself looking back. One of the goblins struck me in the gut “uhg” Im in pain…


A collected bit of lore from Liyl, the Commonland Kingdom: A Combat History:

"It should be noted that, while generally a small, peaceful society, Liyl has often been conflicted with numerous sources of strife and warfare. Because of the limited resources in the plains where the kingdom is located, soldiers have had to make do with what is available to combat potential threats and find innovative ways to fight back.

One such tactic commonly employed is that of call-to-arm anthems to raise morale and unite the people. Below is an example of one such song, composed by Oliver Trommel:

“Attack, Attack, Attack!”

“Attack, attack, attack!
There is no holding back!
The Golden Arm shall do no harm,
they’ll never purge and sack!”

“Defend, defend, defend!
Our walls we all must mend!
Collect the lumber, put off slumber
watch out for your friend!”

“Attack, attack, attack!
The goblins have come back!
We’ll all fight on, from dusk 'til dawn,
and swords and shields crack!”

Controversially, there was actually another stanza originally composed with the others, meant to be sung in the case of defeat against the goblins:

“Forget, forget, forget
The goblins e’er were met!
We’ll all keep mum and all play dumb–
of that, you sure can bet!”

Needless to say, the thought of ever losing to the goblins of Golden Arm was ridiculous. The Liylites cried blasphemy, and Trommel was temporarily forced to flee out of town as they patriotically pelted him with baskets of rotten berries.

Despite this, the rest of the anthem has enjoyed wide popularity and is still commonly sung today."


A Fight to the Death

The trees were turning green. The bushes were thick and berry-full. Winter had passed. The settlers had already celebrated the Spring Festival. The young settlers danced and frolicked in the fields. The elders shook their heads and went on with their work.

In one forgotten corner of the village stood a small cabin. Its yard was overgrown and untended. The roof was caving in. The inside of the cabin was not much better. A ragged carpet’s remnants lay by the door, the rest of the floor was mud. A table, two chairs and a stove were the only furnishings in the main room. The bedroom in the back consisted of a small trunk and one bed.

In the bed, an old weak man lay. The man was covered by a blanket as old as he was. Only his eyes showed any life. They were a pale blue like a clear sky. He wore a tunic that was once fancy and sleek. Now there were rips, mud, and even some dried blood scattered on the garment. Although the old man was still, he was not inactive; he was thinking.

“The festival has come and gone, like all the others before it. How many is it now? Ah I lose track. I wish I could remember the first festival. Could I really have been there? I guess I must have. I am as old as the village trees that stand tall and straight. If only I could stand straight again… If only I could do most things again…

“Why am I still holding on? I should just let go. Is it because of my family? No it cannot be, they think nothing of me. There isn’t any reason. Why should I fight it” The old man’s brain thought.

“Don’t give up! You have to see spring, you have to see your grandchildren grow.” Another voice said, but its voice seemed a mile away.

“I’m nothing anymore. I have done what I needed to do. Life is done with me.” With that thought the old man stopped breathing, a legacy ended.


Just a regular day
Walter was a different hearthling, full of aspirations to be a footman one day and seek adventure, the lowly farmer would regularly daydream and wonder about the great unknown world outside of the walls of Fort Hildegard. One day, as he was sitting in his birdbath staring at the great harvest he had just reaped, his wish was finally answered.
A green creature had appeared and picked up one of his crates of turnips

‘‘Goblin no like turnips!!! ick!! goblin burn!!!’’ The green creature proceeded to carry the box away to beyond the wall. Walter was a fearless and brave warrior at heart, and he knew he had to alert the others,he did so by throwing his hands in the air and screaming for help. where were the guards? who was watching in case something like this happened!?!?!

Meanwhile stuck inside of an unfinished building, Ronald the footman tried to cut his way past the scaffolding with his wooden sword, but to no avail.
Hello? is anyone there? I need help guys…guys? where is everyone?

The rest of the hearthlings had finally appeared with there logs from the freshly cut trees, confused as to why there was so much yelling going on,One calmly asked walter

‘‘goblins? in the village? footman trapped!! we will have to use our last resort!’’

the alarm bell rang, everyone was on full alert , rushing to the scene of the crime , the villagers all banded together and created a bed and placed it beside the goblin.

''Goblin sleepy, yawn ‘’

the village was saved and all was well in Hildegard again…for now



What can I say, I was inspired enough to think up a tune, but not skilled enough to put a song in the background or really refine the notes much. All done in about 45 minutes, so that oughta speak for the quality.

(In case that doesnt open for some people: StoneHearth Song - Clyp)


I moved a post to an existing topic: Writer’s Workshop 3: The Wrath of Mer!

1 Like

January 31, 2015
The Coming Of The Barbarians

It was the eve of the fourth moon of smiles when they first came to our land, the land of the tall hills, the land of the open sky.

Whoosh, thud. My arrow hit the rabbit in the heart thus ending its life and sending it to the sky land. My faithful wolf Amona ran to fetch my kill, his tail wagging, ears perked, tongue lolling. As Amona closed in on the carcass of the rabbit, snap, crack. Amona had stepped into a trap! I ran toward him as he howled in pain. As I ran, a spear soared over my head and I spied a man with a coon head on his own wearing a coat of red. He took one look at me with my blue war paint on from head to toe and grabbed a horn from about the leather belt at his waist, and blew into it, burrrrrr. He ran like the underworld itself was trying to drag him down.

I hesitated for a moment thinking of what I should do; go after him and make him pay, or help Amona? I chose to help Amona for I could get recompense after I attended to him. I carried him to my village. As I neared, some of the village’s children came out to meet us. By the time we entered the village the warriors of my people had gathered, they brandished all manner of weapons. The shamen of our people inspected Amona and declared that he would be lame in one foot for the rest of his life.

It was several hours after the attack that we went looking for the attacker. Seventeen of our finest warriors came with me to hunt down that evil man with a coon on his head. We descended into the low lands, which still had many trees back in those days. As we stalked through the undergrowth we spotted a thin line of smoke ascending out of the forest maybe a mile off. As we came closer to the source of the smoke we prepared ourselves to do battle. We entered a large clearing; on one end there were some berry bushes and a few of the strange people were picking purple fruit. On the other end was a good-sized farm with many crops we had never seen before. In the middle was the most disturbing sight of all, they had built several houses, some finished, some not. Three or four of these odd people, clad in blue-padded armor, started running toward us yelling, “Goblins! To arms to arms!”

I looked at my kin, my family, my friends, my people and said, “We shall bathe in the blood of these Barbarians!”


One day in the peaceful little village of Fort Fellington, the hearthlings were doing their daily work routine, the carpenter was carpenting, the blacksmith was smithing, and the workers were, of course, building and eating. Everyone was happy in the small village that no one cared to notice, behind some trees was a group of goblins! The goblins were very mad, because some random creatures, with ugly non-green skin, were in there backyard! “They is taking da pretty trees!” some spoke with an angry tone. Then a small goblin (his name was Tall Tim) said with fear in his voice “They all is good at fighting, they use da tools in they ugly hands to fight!”
“I’s found this,” said another goblin, “In big spooky cave.” It was a book, the book was titled: The Official Radiant Guide to Coding AI, by The Radiant Team. The goblins could not believe it, a book from The Radiant Team.

The Radiant Team was a group of powerful wizards, legends say that they could remove and add large amounts of objects with the movement of a finger. The goblins opened the book, good for them it was written in goblin speak! The goblins began to read the mystery book and came up with a plan. A plan so evil that the whole village would be destroyed, and they could finally sleep in those amazing beds!

The hearthlings were about ready for bed, when the goblins came! The hearthlings were about to attack but they noticed something, the goblins were running from them and just standing there, idle. The hearthlings thought it was just some black magic (known as a bug) so they went back to the town square, but just at that moment, almost by the click of an “R” button the goblins pulled out picks and hammers and attacked! The hearthlings were not ready for the attack, and the goblins rounded them all into a corner, and took all of there beds! The goblins left the town with all the beds and set them down at camp. they all yawned and tried to lay in the bed, but they couldn’t. “Why can’t we lay down?” asked Tall Tim
"It says in the book: The bug that allowed goblins to sleep in beds has been fixed" said a goblin.
Tall Tim fell on his knees, looked up to the starry sky and screamed "CURSE YOU DA RADIANT TEAM"


I moved a post to an existing topic: Writer’s Workshop 3: The Wrath of Mer!

What Lurks Below

Outside I hear the hasty hammering of our carpenter trying to seal off the mines, but everyone knows this is a futile gesture.
Easily repelling the attacks of the goblins made us so overconfident, we did not spend any resources on fortifications.
“Well if things go bad we can always draw back to the tunnels” was the argument winning any debate about it every single time.
So much for that idea, what a cruel joke.

No one left to argue about that anyway now.
We lost half of our work force in the mines before realizing that what was going on wasn’t cave ins but cave trolls, huge difference right there.

I sigh as I tighten my sword belt and step outside.
The bright sun is blinding me for a moment, at least its a sunny day for our last stand.
Norsa and Tess the remaining two soldier besides me notice my approach, our former blacksmith Idria fumbles with the unfamiliar sword. Another joke, those wooden swords are not much more than large toothpicks.
I give a short nod to Norsa and Tess and then hail Devona our carpenter and send her to fetch herself a sword.

As she hurries to the stockpiles we four form a row in front of the door.
Is it my imagination or is the ground shaking?
Right when Devona rejoins us the wooden barrier receives its first strike, grimly we muster each other, but even if we wanted to flee, there really is no place left for us.
Devona remarks “By the way there is also a pack of goblins coming from the forest, guess they will keep busy with the stockpiles though.”
Everyone nods to then watch the mine entrance again.

As the first crack appears on the boards I draw my sword.
“Ready yourselves” I call out, but it takes another two minutes for the next crack to appear.
Then everything happens all at once, the third crack is accompanied by a huge shatter and there they are.
“For Berrydale!” we roar and charge as one.


time for submissions is over… but voting can continue until Wednesday! :+1: