Contest January-February 2024 Short Story Contest Reading and Voting Thread, Votes close March 2nd

The theme for our 37th seasonal short story contest, provided by the co-winners of last contest is "Divine Intervention".

Please read all three stories carefully before voting. You may vote for only ONE story.

The order of the stories was determined completely randomly. The order has no bearing on which pieces were submitted in what order.

If someone wants me to fix a typo or formatting error that slipped through the cracks. Please let me know by private message AND please post the entire story with all changes made. It's lot easier for me to copy and paste a new story rather than for me to dig through the text to find the two or three errant sentences.

Happy reading everyone! Let the commentary, critiques and gushing praise begin.

Spoiler: Story One: "A Matter of Faith"

A Matter of Faith​

The man was wearing a worn tunic and leather boots which in a distant time may have been of reasonable quality. He was bent over the remains of a burnt wagon, and when he stood up he was not at all satisfied.
“A spark hit the black powder in the carriage. The ashes are completely cold, the smoke we saw yesterday must have been the last dying embers”
“Yes, and judging by the maggots on the corpses we were three days late”
The other man was wearing a greenish tunic, which could blend in with the forest background more due to the brown mold stains than the actual color. He was holding a sliver of obsidian in his hand.
“It was the lizard devils.”
"Obvious. I fear that our Constable will have to do without reinforcements from Sudburg."
“Judging by the number of bodies, quite a few survived. the tracks indicate that they went West.”
The first man shrugged and spat on the ground.
“Poor bastards. Let's go back to Port Reaver."

------

The jungle procession proceeded at a steady pace. The long line of bound prisoners moved along the path traced by the dinosaurs who led the march, flanked by saurian warriors. The wounded who had not been able to keep up, had been left behind... and their screams, muffled by the clanking of large jaws, had cast a dark aura of fear among the prisoners. Sergeant Hans had tried to protest, and he was indifferently slaughtered. No one else had complained. Everyone marched to the pace dictated by the lizard devils.


Fortunately, captors’ indifference applied much more widely.
No one seemed to care if the prisoners talked to each other, and soon Father Rutger monopolized the survivors' attention. Litanies that normally echoed in the cathedrals of the Empire now filled the undergrowth of Lustria.
“What is the duty of the faithful?”
“to obey Sigmar's Will”
“What is Sigmar's will?”
“that we fight in His name”
“What is the reward of those who fight in His name?”
"the glory"
“Who will get the Glory?”
“the faithful”
“What is the duty of the Faithful?...”
It was a reassuring thought. The procession of desperate people clung to the hope of those words, to the possibility of still being able to fight in Sigmar's name. All except one.


“I don't mean to pray, Rutger. I need my breath to walk, I won't waste it invoking nothingness."
Night had fallen on the jungle and interrupted the march. The men, exhausted, tried to rest and regain their strength…. not an easy task, tormented as they were by mosquitoes and all the other nocturnal insects to which their captors seemed immune. Only Father Rutger seemed tireless, moving among the men to comfort and encourage them.
“I'm sorry to hear you say that, Karl. You should not give up hope. Sigmar always listens to us.”
He received a laugh in response. "Really? look around. This is hell on earth. Sigmar does not arrive here. There never was."
“I looked around Karl, and I see a beautiful night sky. The stars shine only in the deepest night. When do you think miracles can happen, if not when those who have faith are put to the test in the most dramatic circumstances?”
“The Gods don't care about us, father. We are like ants in their eyes. You are deluded."
“And you are a defeatist. Faith keeps your comrades alive. If you don't want to pray for your salvation, at least don't belittle their courage."
Karl looked bitterly at Father Rutger's back, as he walked away to spread false hopes among the collapsed bodies.
Even if they are still breathing, they are already dead. They would be better off accepting reality and calling upon Morr, rather than Sigmar. Another entity indifferent to our fates, but at least it would be more themed.


The nightmarish march lasted for 10 days. The prisoners, from almost forty had been reduced to half.
The ordeal had dug a wedge between Karl and his companions. Little by little the need to find a reason to survive had imbued men with a religious fervor worthy of a team of flagellants.
Sigmar would send a sign. Sigmar would manifest himself. Sigmar would not abandon them.
The broken nose had taught Karl that it was unwise to doubt salvation.
In the eyes of those who were once his companions, he was a dangerous miscreant. Karl, for his part, had no illusions. This was not a land of gods. It was a land of beasts and savagery and death. And no imperial citizen had ever returned alive from that jungle thanks to divine intervention.


When they finally reached the city at the eleventh dawn, Karl didn't even have the strength to laugh.
The scale and proportions of the buildings were an inconceivable enormity. The outer walls alone were composed of countless blocks, each the size of a war chariot.
Towering stepped pyramids, taller than Altdorf Cathedral stood dotting the landscape, visible through the large fronds of immense centuries-old plants that grew freely in the city... a lush tangle of vegetation which however did not extend even with a single leaf along the immense, perfectly paved avenues, flanked by enormous columns depicting feathered serpents, with fangs as tall as a man.
And if the architecture was inconceivably infernal, the inhabitants of the city completed the nightmare. Winged creatures circled lazily around the tallest pyramids, while countless lizard devils crowded to follow the procession, forming a bizarre multicolored parade, some smaller than Karl, adorned with feathers, moving nimbly around other reptiles as large as a warhorse, crocodiles with arms as thick as the trunk of a small oak tree.
What hope of salvation could there be in that place? What god could manifest himself in the heart of chaos?
We are not even ants. An ant at least can be annoying, but we are nothing.


Although it was a bitter consolation, Karl felt a petty satisfaction in seeing the faith and trust of his companions crumble and weaken little by little. Father Rutger's face became more and more ashen with every step... and even his exhortations had now taken on a different tone, they no longer promised survival.
“Do not be afraid, my brothers. Faith will save our souls”
"If you say so"
"Yes, certainly. Sigmar is walking alongside us."


Growing voices accompanied them to their destination.
The crowd had gathered around a square, adorned with serpentine statues. The center of the square was occupied by a stepped pyramid, just a few meters high, at the top of which stood some small lizard devils, covered with colored feathers, gold ornaments and necklaces with sparkling jewels... pagan priests, evidently.
On the pyramid and all around, simple snakes could also be seen, apparently indifferent to the chaos that reigned around them. The men were made to kneel, and the priests said something to the crowd, which immediately calmed down, starting a sort of unison invocation, alternating with the declamations of the priests on the pyramid. It didn't take a genius to understand that this was a religious ceremony.
“Sigmar certainly won't let his followers be sacrificed to non-existent deities by these superstitious primitives…”
"Shut up…"


Then it began.
Four warriors took the first victim, holding him by the arms and legs and carrying him towards the top of the pyramid. The poor guy was desperately shaking, shouting and jerking with all the strength of desperation, to no avail. Having reached the top, they held him immobile while the priest uttered some litany, then the man was thrown to the ground... and disappeared.
There must have been some sort of well, because the sound of landing was heard after a couple of seconds. For a moment there was silence, then the screaming began. The screams didn't last for long. Father Rutger bowed his head and closed his eyes.
“Sigmar, help us.”


The warriors headed back to the waiting men. The first in line began to agitate, held still by the guards at his side. Karl, far behind, stood up.
"I'm going first! Take me!”
Then he looked hard at Father Rutger.
“I'll show you how a man dies”.
Karl walked steadily towards the warriors who had just descended from the pyramid. The saurians, confused, waded towards their priests, and one of them nodded. They moved aside slightly and let Karl pass, who spontaneously climbed the steps, now accompanied by the towering warriors, almost like a guard of honor. Karl then reached the top of the pyramid and, in fact, a black hole opened in front of him, from which came slow waves of warm humidity, mixed with a strong smell of musk. Karl looked into the priest's eyes… yellow with serpentine pupils. The priest intoned the same short litany.
When he finished, Karl jumped down.


At the bottom of the well there was a stone floor, covered with leaves and dirt and logs. All around, hundreds of snakes were moving slowly, hypnotically. A tangle of serpentine bodies was metodically dismembering the first man's corpse.
For a moment, nothing happened... then from the darkness emerged the head of an enormous reptile, a meter wide, with its eyes fixed on Karl's, while its forked tongue darted out, cutting the air.
Karl couldn't look away… then he felt it. The presence.
Something lurked in those eyes, something ancient, immense and impossible.
A series of images passed through Karl's mind, like a burning meteor… eons of sacrifices. Fangs dripping poison, countless pyramids scattered on this and other worlds, on other universes, infinite scaly bodies connected to a single entity.
Sotek.
And Sotek was there, at that moment. Aware of his presence, through the gaze of the primordial boa that reigned in that cave. And Karl knew that there, in that place, there was a God who recognized him as a living being, a God who was not indifferent, a God who cared about him. A God who craved for his blood, his flesh... and his soul.
It was only then that Karl finally screamed.

Spoiler: Story Two: "Practically Guaranteed"

Practically Guaranteed

Once upon a time in Lustria, two ragged, sunburned, insect-bitten prisoners were being marched through the jungle towards a temple city of the Lizardmen. Hans and Wilhelm were Empire soldiers who had followed an over-ambitious gold-seeking adventurer on an ill-fated voyage. One by one their party had been picked off by disease, starvation, bloodthirsty natives, hungry predators, and finally, the lizardmen themselves.

"I bet this situation has never happened before in the history of Lustria," muttered Hans.

"You're right. No expedition has ever gone badly in these parts," nodded Wilhelm.

They continued to stumble onwards, their hands tied with rope, their reptilian captors prodding them with sticks.

"What are you so happy about?" Hans grumbled, seeing his companion's face. "They're sure to kill us when we arrive."

"I wouldn't count on it," Wilhelm grinned.

"What are you talking about?"

Wilhelm nodded towards the sky. "Divine intervention, of course. Practically guaranteed."

"Don't be daft."

"I'm serious. You must have heard about that bloke from Kemperbad. He was exactly where we were. The scale-skins had him all tied up on their altar, knife raised up to cut his heart out, sacrifice him to their gods. Then all of a sudden - bam! Solar eclipse. Sun went out. Lizzies let him go. Came back safe, now he lives like a prince."

"A heavenly alignment is hardly a common occurrence!" cried Hans. "What are the odds of that happening twice?"

"Dime a dozen, your last-moment eclipse. Sigmar sends one whenever someone's in a tight spot. My cousin's boy's wife's sister was about to be burned to death by Chaos Dwarves one time. Just as they're striking the match - bam! Solar eclipse. Fellah down the pub I met last year, gonna be eaten by goblins at a feast of Gork. Or was it Mork? Either way - bam! Solar eclipse! Fellah sitting next to him, one second away from getting dissected by Skaven? Bam!"

"Solar eclipse?" Hans asked, rolling his eyes.

"Nope - lunar eclipse. Warpstone moon clean vanished! Then when it was a vampire ritual goblet-filling, it was the normal moon that went out. Those bloodsuckers ran for the hills. Ah, here we go. You ready for a show?"

They had finally staggered free of the jungle, revealing a great city of crumbling stone pyramid-temples. Lizardmen covered every inch, waving their weapons and roaring with anticipation at the coming sacrifice. The prisoners were led down the wide central avenue towards the largest of the giant pyramids.

"You see?" Wilhelm continued. "They'll take us up there, tie us up, sharpen their best knife, and just when it looks like curtains - bam! Some kind of eclipse for sure."

They continued walking in silence, until they reached the base of the pyramid. But instead of starting up the long stairs, the lizardmen directed them towards a small door. Hans cleared his throat.

"Quick question. If we're certain to be saved by a celestial event, why are they taking us inside?"

Spoiler: Story Three "Gain a New Name"

Gain a new name

“For the second time, no! We are not taking action yet.” chirped the Skink in the middle of the throne room. A small group of Lizards was gathered here at this hour of the day, just a moment after daybreak. Besides the Skink Oracle, Suqy-nakpa known as the Mouth of Xruzi’o-lla, there were four Skinks of last night’s patrol, six Saurus Temple Guards, stationed in pairs at the entrances and behind the oracle sat Slann Lord Xruzi’o-lla himself on his palanquin. His eyes closed, presumably in meditation.

“We have to!” stated the biggest Skink, Quekkurk'atl, alpha of the patrol “The problem will grow if we do not act now.” He paused to see if his words did find ground. He noticed no change of mind at the Skink in front of him. In reach for a last straw he pointed at the lump of unhealthy fur and bleak skin in between them on the floor, three darts visibly sticking out of it. “Is this not enough evidence!?”
Suqy-nakpa kept his face straight and his hands clenched. “It is as I have said before, by the…” “Quetzl demands us to keep restrain”, intervened a deep and slow voice, the Slann continued: “He will bless us with resilience and endurance to withstand all that will come over us. Like he has done before.”
Two of the Temple Guards couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Quekkurk’atl however let his head down and his shoulders followed. The patrol’s morale visibly dropped. Their Alpha had tried to convince the council, but it fell on deaf ears. Council was actually too high of a praise, it consisted of no more than Lord Xruzi’o-lla and his trusted Oracle. In the olden days the council consisted of two Skink Oracles, two Starseers, two Starpriests and a Slann. Since the Great Departure the stars had not aligned right for new members to rise up.
Although their Lord was still unable to use his magical abilities, he and his Mouth were of one mind, a stubborn one in his opinion.

- o - o - o - o - o -

The sun crested the mountain tops at the east, bathing the Temple City and the lush green jungle valley that surrounded it in morning light. Most of the vegetation was relatively young grown, stimulated by the energy emanating from the city’s stonework.

Quekkurk'atl and his patrol exited the main ziggurat and halted after a couple of steps.
Tetekcotiq turned to their spawn-leader: “What now brother? Are we simply going to wait?”
After a brief silence Quekkurk'atl looked at his brothers around him and replied with a question: “Do you all trust me?”
“With my life and all lifetimes to come!” was Tetekcotiq’s immediate reaction, the other Skinks chirped in conformation. “Will you follow me wherever I go? Do whatever I ask you to do?” Again the patrol gave their support to him. Quekkurk'atl nodded in a thankful response.
“Iquarikuat and Tetekcotiq, you both go back and retrieve the dead rat we brought as evidence. Meet us at the deserted village by sunset.”

- o - o - o - o - o -

The jungle hugged the city at all sides. Mountains trapped the jungle at three sides, the north, south and east. In the west the jungle stretched out to the next valley and eventually meandered to the Scorched Plains in the south.
The thick, dense jungle at the edge of the valley suddenly gave way, there the trees turned brown and began to fall in. A wide groove marked where the jungle had died away, plants had fallen and rotting vegetation was turned into a gray, dusty, rock filled emptiness.
There once was a jungle here, or at least elements of it. A lot of the wooden parts looked sagged, partially sunken in and dried. Almost like they were frozen and left to gray. In the middle of this area were a number of small buildings , a very small village of some kind that was dilapidated. Structures that are mostly intact and some that are just the bare bones exterior, the corners and remnants of where they once stood. There stood a singular obelisk spire emerging from the center square. From top to bottom it showed glyphs in shapes of a language long past. In front of it stood a formidable table created from three big slabs of stone.
Two blue scaled figures hid beside the spire in between the high growth.

At the edge of the area two more figures broke from the vegetation. One of them carried the limp body of a rodent. As they arrived at the village they slowed down and moved around the first building. They halted at the edge of the central square, looking around carefully. The front Skink let out a range of chirps and clicks and then waited. From the side of the spire the opposite range of clicks and chirps sounded as a reaction. Both duo of Skinks moved to the stone slab table in front of the spire.

“There you are.'' confirmed Quekkurk'atl, rather impatient.
“We ran into some trouble on our way,” answered Iquarikuat the unasked question, “they are closer than last night. The problem worsens, just as we thought.”
Quekkurk’atl acknowledged the information as correct: “The more reason to act fast.”
Tetekcotiq hoisted the limp rat atop of the table, a soft squick sounded as its head smashed against the stone. The rat was unconscious but still alive. Quekkurk'atl climbed up on the table beside it. He unveiled a shiny dagger with a blade shaped like a crawling snake, a snake’s head at the cling and ending in a sharp point.

It seemed like the surrounding jungle had waited for this moment to erupt in sound and motion as squeak upon squeak rose from between the trees. Even further away deep guttural roars were heard.

“They caught up on us,” chirped Iquarikuat, “get your blowpipes at the ready!”
As the three Skinks took out their blowpipes they positioned themselves in a half circle with their backs to the table. The first small rodents became visible at the vegetation edge, skittering across the fallen and rotten plants.
Quekkurk’atl stood atop the table with his dagger at the ready. He lifted his head to the sky, closed his eyes and started to call out: “Great Snake of the ages past! Grant us your protection in our hour of need! Accept this sacrifice as a token of our subdication to you, Sotek the Deliverer! Show your strength and a thousand sacrifices will follow!” Quekkurk’atl opened his eyes, now glowing bright white. As he brought the dagger down he chanted and his patrol joined him: “Sotek deliver us! Sotek deliver us! Sotek deliver us!”
With a clean cut the dagger separated the head from the body and its blood gushed freely on the table, over the edge and on the pavement.

A couple of seconds nothing seemed to happen.

Tetekcotiq shot a small rat down at the left side of the square and Iquarikuat aimed at a couple of rat monks peeking around the corner of a building to the right.
Then suddenly a stroke of bright green light burst forth from the table, following the blood flow down to the floor and back to the spire. The light filled the glyphs, starting at the bottom and up to the top, when the top glyph was filled the light struck up into the sky.

Meanwhile, for every rat the Skinks shot down two more appeared. More rat monks showed up around the square’s edges, behind them even bigger creatures emerged, parts of multiple rats vaguely recognizable about them.

Thick clouds pulled together above the village, a breeze of air started to form around the spire. The breeze grew stronger and stronger. In a couple of seconds the air became very tense and heavy to breath. The sound of gusts of wind got paired with the cracking of thunder and in a flash of green light a giant winged snake broke through the clouds coiling down to the square.

The Skink patrol retreated to the spire itself as the monstrous rat ogres and abominations reached the table.
A fraction of a second later green light filled every nook and cranny of the square. The Winged Snake hit with a deafening impact. After the first impact the light circled the square a couple of times increasing the radius by every round before coming to a halt in front of the table.

Quekkurk’atl kneeled in front of the Winged Snake and raised both of his hands presenting the dagger he used in the sacrifice. “O great deliverer, our thanks is great and my determination is eternal. I offer you my life in servitude.” The snake bowed its head and answered without its mouth moving: “Serve me and you’ll be free, follow my guidance and you will go wherever you like. You will speak my words and spread my prophecies. Because of your devotion I will give you a new name: Iqutakkorhuatzi, Devoted Skaven-Slayer of the Cursed Skybeam.” It looked around at the fallen rodents on all sides and said: “Find the ones still breathing, sacrifice them first.”
With that the form shattered in thousand shards of green light, each disappearing even before they hit the ground.

The Skinks stood up, looked at each other and started their gathering of rat bodies at the square..

Spoiler: Story Four, "Prayer for a New Dawn"

Prayer for a New Dawn
____________________

“Oh Great Deliverer.​

I come to thee​

tonight in great desperation.
I kneel here before thee,
not as your loyal devotee,
but as a dying soul.
My time in this world is dwindling,
my seconds are running out.
So I come to thee
not for myself
but for all of them.

I come to thee​

in the name of the thousands of withered young before me.
The ones taken away,
barely a moment before given to our world.
For all our soon-to-have-been great priests, warriors and heroes
not given the chance to make a change
taken by rot and filth
coming from our defiled Pools
corrupted by the scum of the earth
turning our verdant waters into a pond of nothing but black mourning and grief.

I come to thee​

in the name of our fallen brothers from the Legion of Chaqua.
For the brave Saurus warriors who stood strong, side by side.
Fighting against a force they could not see.
Let their sacrifice not testify of defeat.
Let it strengthen our spirits.
Let it fill our bones with their perseverance,
our veins with their devotion,
and our hearts with their courage.

I come to thee​

in the name of everyone who offered their soul
in self-sacrifice and in immolation.
Not only our strong-bodied soldiers
but also our cunningly-minded brethren.
Give them your blessing.
Provide them the resolve to give chase to those vermin.
Grant them your ethereal scales.
Let them shed their mortal skin
like the great Tehenhauin before them
for they will provide eternal offerings
until the blessed arrival of your presence.

Oh Lord, I come to thee,​

not only in the last of my hours,
but as the last of our numbers as well.
As your last prophet, I kneel before thee
and will prepare to seal your tomb in honour.
My words echoing for eternity
within the empty halls of your sacred sanctuary.

My body, surrounded by pestilence and corruption.
My mind, surrounded by hope and belief.
My soul, awaiting your dawn.”


As the priest closed the temple doors, they looked up to the clouded night sky for the last time. Seeing a two-tailed fiery omen pierce the sky, leaving a dark red trail wherever it passed, a tear rolled down their disease-ridden cheek as they whispered

"Thank you.”​

before sealing themselves away forever.

 

Story One: "A Matter of Faith" by @Killer Angel

Story Two: "Practically Guaranteed" by @thedarkfourth

Story Three: "Gain a New Name" by @Imrahil

Story Four: "Prayer for a New Dawn" by @Llinyn Tathrenlir

Congratulations to thedarkfourth for winning this round!

 

Oopsie, we have four stories not three. I fixed it.

No one has voted yet, so damage done.

 

i like the different approaches to the theme

 

Working on mine

 

Not a true review, but hey.

Fate likes to play with us... the first 2 stories present us the adventures (and the predictable doom) of soldiers of the Empire in Lustria. The inevitable skaven were the co-protagonists of the latter ones.

So, this appears to divide the stories into 2 coherent groups... alas, the similarities and the common ground end here.
A matter of faith is a serious and dark story, it covers the nihilism of a soldier that refuses to accept gods as active entities into the world of men, in contrast with his companions and the priests that tries to confort them. The piece tries also to convey the majesty of the city of the lizardmen and the sensation of smalness men prove in front of this "alien" civilization, which appears to be underestimated by men in judging its complexity and its level of culture.
The story is probably the longest one, but IDK if it could have been trimmed a little.

Practically Guaranteed, on the other side, is a short and a light toned piece... the divine intervention here is fabled as (literally) an expected salvation. And i must say, it was not so unbelievable, given that the lizardmen clearly took measures to avoid such annoying occurrence.
A great and fun reading, with basically not a single weak part!

Gain a new name covers a direct intervention of Sotek, that gifts a true believer with power. In front of impending doom, it's not rare for someone to raise as herald of a God. A classic structure, even if sometime i find the story to be not exceptionally clear in its development. A minor quirk, but with so few stories...

Prayer for a new Dawn tells us the story of a destroyed city, plagued by the diseases of the skaven. Only the last agonizing priest resists in hope of a sign, praying for vengeance to come. And its cry won't be wasted. This one was a really nice surprise, as the whole structure of the story is carried by the prayer... between this and Practically Guaranteed, i'm truly sad for the single vote allowed.

 

That was really close!

So, while we're waiting for the official announcement, i can reveal this round i grabbed the second place (my 12th consecutive podium!)

 

This round it really made the difference!