Fiction Imrahil's short stories

Dear readers,

I finally decided to make a thread of my own over here, so I can collect all stories I wrote at one place.
Easier to find them back and notice the progress (or decay) I made over time

I will post the stories in entered in the short story contests with the critiques and feedback I got on the story. Also I will post stories that I had intended for the contest but couldn't enter or finish writing it in time. And maybe I will post some other pieces of Fluff once I get the feel for it, we will see.

Below is the index of the stories for shortcuts:
- New Beginnings; Short story contest #21
- The Labor of Twelve; Short story contest #22 (not entered)
- Wrapped and Seated; Short story contest #23
- We all belong somewhere; Short story contest #24
- Sneaking in the shadows; Short story contest #25
- Halls and Mountains; Short story contest #26
- Saved by a Sacrifice; Short story contest #27
- Call for the Old Ones; Short story contest #28
- Throw Caution to the Wind; Short story contest #29 (2nd place)
- The Hooded One; Short story contest #30
- Game Over; Short story contest #31 (Shared 3th place)
- Captured in Stone; Short story contest #32
- A Day to be Grateful; Short story contest #33 (Shared 1st place, lost the tie-breaker)
- Fire Within and Fire Without; Short story contest #34 (Shared 1st place, lost the tie-breaker)
- Unnoticed Presence; Short story contest #35
- A Different Place and Time; Short story contest #36 (Shared 1ste place, shared first in the tie-breaker)
- Gain a New Name; Short story contest #37
- Part of the Team; Short story contest #38 (3th place)
- He Said He Would Come...; Short story contest #39 (Shared 3th place)

Grrr, Imrahil

 

This first short story I wrote for the Januari-Februay 2020 Short story contest.

The Theme was New beginnings/Rebirths

My entry:

New Beginning

- XI, 331, 3, 52 - Travel day 15
Sunlight showering down upon a blanked of waves. The bow of the "Aislinn's pride" plowed through the water with ease.
Though the journey had been calmly, the sight of sea days on end made a part of the crew feel travel-weary. Opposing to the sea fast shipman on whose care they placed themselves to travel this far from home.
Given the chance they'd rather travel the whole thousands of miles by land, but, to their despair, there is no way to travel out of Ulthuan without crossing the Great Ocean.
Well protecting the homeland from raids by foot, it acts as a friend and foe for those who, like them, are not born for a life at sea.

"Land Ahoy!" shouted by the spotter at the front of the ship.

Archibalt Grerona and his men managed to hoist themselves up from the wooden deck. With trembling legs the stumbled to the railing to take a glimpse in the distance.
It looked like Asuryan himself drew at the horizon, creating land as they sailed closer. At first a lonely spot of black appeared, slowly growing wider and wider, changing color from black to green.
As the ship approached the shore the shape of vast amounts of trees became clear.
Amidst this, seemingly endless, coast of vegetation one beacon of hope and light rose high. The Citadel of Dusk. Even in the fading light a bright sight of hope.

A sigh of relief rose from the deck as the sound of seagulls was swelling to support the urge of soon having solid ground to stand on.

Not much later the ship boarded the harbor.

"Welcome to the bottom of the world," announced the captain cheerfully "mind the gap, please take all of your belongings with you and you can keep the borrowed buckets!"
This resulted in a wave of laughter amongst the ship men.
To preserve some form of dignity Archibalt led his men across the pier to the closest inn: 'Come on'

"We'll rest solidly tonight" assured Archibalt his men.
"No more rocking in my sleep" confirmed Tyrual relieved.
"Room for five please!"

The Innkeeper handed a key and gestured to the stairs "Second floor, third door on your right. Would sir and his men like dinner served?"
"Thanks, but no thanks. We will be resting until the morning"
No food would be received well at that moment. They hoisted their luggage upstairs

"Tomorrow we'll eat, create plans and gather inventory"

Archibalt looks upon his crew as they settle for the night. Tomorrow will begin the real challenge, this is what the brothers Tyrual and Sinaht Aewarin are looking out for from the start.
These fine swordsmen long for some action, especially after those long days at sea. Accompanied by a scout, Ayluin Balnan, and most important by Jandar Glynnala, the mage assigned to this task.
With the daylight now completely gone the sounds of the lands outside the citadel became clearer.

- XI, 331, 3, 53 - Travel day 16
In the morning they left the inn, well rested and fed. They manned the gates to scout the next chapter of the adventure. A path that few dared to walk before, even fewer ever returned. The Lustrian jungle.
Seeing the doubt on the faces of his men, Archibalt turned to them and said: "The briefing was clear and our intention pure."
No change of expression was detectable on their faces.
"Hoeth will guide and protect us" he added. After those words the company walked away from the wall, down to the harbors and the boulevard.
Archibalt knew that after leaving the safety of the Citadel their fates will lie all but in their own hands.

As the day past they gathered information, inventory and took rest. Doing so, bit by bit, their mood and courage came back.
At noon they went back to the inn. Archibalt set his men around the table: "Rest and eat, guys, for at nightfall we will continue our journey."

Mists covered the path leading from the gate. In the fading light a display of shadows grew longer. In every direction there wasn't more than 50 feet of sight.
Five shadows cross the plain to the jungles edge in secrecy, hardly noticeable. The vegetation closing after them.


- XI, 331, 3, 54 - Travel day 17
Struggling through the jungle, Archibalt is making his way, followed by Tyrual, Jandar and Sinaht.
Alyuin appears in front of them: "All's clear ahead sir!"
A days march is behind them now, most of it they have been traveling by night. Cloaked in a basic invisibility spell they managed to travel with ease.
So far they didn't come across any sign of sophisticated life. Either there is nothing in these parts of the jungle or they're not tent to show themselves.

Archibalt turns to Jandar: "What do you think, Jandar, how much further?"
"I'd say just a couple of miles. It feels stronger as we move deeper in to the jungle"
"You heard him guys," Archibalt rallied his men, "move on!"

He turns around to find that Ayluin is moved on already. Quickly the rest of the company turns up the pace to catch up with him.
After a couple of hours Archibalt raises his hand to sign the company to a halt.
"Something isn't right" he whispers to Sinaht, "Ayluin skipped his last report interval."
"Do you think something has happened"
"It is nothing for him to be lazy or disobedient."
"I will take a closer look."
"Be on your guard!"

Sinaht moves ahead drawing the iconic great sword of the swordsmen of Hoeth. Behind him Tyrual does the same. Looking around to be sure no one can ambush them from the back.
"Jandar, what about our cloaking?"
Visibly annoyed he reacts: "What about it?"
"Is it still active?"
"Of course it is!"
"Did you notice anything about it the last couple of hours?"
"Nothing..."
Rustle in the vegetation made an abrupt end to the conversation.
"Sinaht?" asks Tyrual hopefully, "any clues?"

Nothing

Then there is more rustle all around. Something is moving just out of sight.
Archibalt, Tyrual and Jandar turn back-to-back-to-back. Tyrual with his sword at the ready, Jandar with his hands stretched to cast a spell and Archibalt with his ax and dagger.
Waiting for some form or shape to break the line of vegetation.
Again Nothing.
Then as if struck by lightning Tyraul falls to the ground. Even before Archibalt can register what is happening he feels a sharp pain in the side of his neck. Just before he loses consciousness he sees a feathered dart hitting Jandar.

- XI, 331, 3, ? - Travel day ?
Deep, deep in the jungle, amidst pyramids and spawning pools, Archibalt and his men wake up from a long terrible slumber. Tied to stone statues surrounded by hordes of blue and red, teeth and scale.
Five statues standing in a circle at the bottom of a great trapped pyramid. Skinks and Sauri swarming around the company of strangers. All hissing and growling but keeping their distance.
At the stairs a skink appears and the crowd grows wilder, raising limbs and roaring load. The skink raises his hand. As like out of one mouth the lizards shout a name: “ Xiliquncani!” after that a silence came across the wide square. At the top of the Stairs an other shadow take form, greater then the skink, a chair floating at the very end of the stairs. On it was a Slann, awakened from his meditative state.

“Who dares to trespass the Jungles of Lustria?” these words were not spoken, for the lips of the Slann did not move, but all five heard it.
“My name is Archibalt,” Archibalt replied, “we travel by the order of Phoenix King Finubar in the name of Hoeth.”
“What do puny pointy-ears want from our lands? Gold?”
“We purely are looking for wisdom, o great amphibian! We search the world for knowledge and unknown secrets. Your lands run with Old magic.”
“Old magic! Who are you calling old!?”
“I did not want to offend you,” reacted Archibalt quickly, whilst adding doubtfully “…. Sir?”
“We know you are the only one who could show us the plans of the Old Ones” stepped Jandar in.
“You could not comprehend the knowledge about it all,” this time the Slann added out lout, “you pointy-ears think you’re so great and all knowing!”
“Show us and we will know” bagged Jandar.
“Why do you seek the will of the Old Ones after abandoning your creators for so long?”
“We sense a cataclysmic disaster coming,” admitted Jandar, “and we don't know what to do or expect. Do we need to fight it or is this the inevitable end of times?”
For the first time Xiliquncani waited a minute to respond, like He needed time to think and way the options.
“You sense but are not able to see, we see but do not feel the need of Action” He continued, “let me show you what is about to come”
He lifted his finger and the tight ropes of the five of them dropped immediately. He raised his hand and the Elves lifted of the ground floating upwards the stairs. When nearly at the top Xiliquncani turns his chair around and the Elves floated behind him in to the chamber at the top of the pyramid. Once inside the doors where closed and sealed.
In the darkness of the room the Elves could here the Slann getting into his meditation. After a few minutes his chair lighted up, the glyphs all around on his chair became fluorescent blue. It started weak but turned unto vibrant blue. A second change was happening, the glyphs turned from blue to red to green, and back to blue. This sequence repeated itself over and over. Then the glyphs grew bigger and bigger, still changing colors, until the room was filled and all darkness was puahes away.
At that moment the flickering colors stopped and there was a cosmos of colors remaining. At the roof of the room a bright light appeared, moving across the room. In it's wake two blazing tales of fire.
Then everything went dark again.
The next moment sounds of battle emerge, swelling and then fading away.

At last the cosmic colors are back again and this time several lights are floating in this space. Not as bright as before but calmer, more comforting lights. They look like orbs floating each on it's own, like rather big drops of heaven. Each drop containing life, in it's own climate and culture.
At the centre there is a person bright in appearance, firm in his golden throne.
Next moment the darkness is back, surrounding all present.
After a few seconds the doors open again and the Slann and Elves leave the chamber
Archibalisis the first to break the silence: “ what is the meaning of all this?”
Jandar turns to Xiliquncani: “is there any hope? Any way out of what will happen?”
“No there is not,” he replies, “what you have seen will come to pass”
“Then all hope is Lost!”
“For the living is no hope, for there is only misery and destruction.
But there will also be a time of a new beginning. Hope that not all is lost.”

Grrr, Imrahil

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Grrr, Imrahil

 

This is the short story I wrote for the July-August 2020 short story contest

The theme was Technological advances

My entry:

Wrapped and Seated

Rumbling of thunder and cracking of stone filled the air. Hugh blocks of stone started shifting and breaking loose. With a bursting firework-like display all stones and star-metal of the gates shattered across the atmosphere hailing down on earth as flaming meteorites.

At the other side of the gate a similar explosion occurred, the stone and star-metal was excelled in to the void. In this void shadows flicker and shapes move across.

“The gate has fallen, Tepok. We need to head back to the pantheon!”

“Give word to the others to gather there. And hurry, Quetzl!”

- - -

“Good to see you are all here. We are to discuss the matter of the fallen gates and the state that the world is in right now.”

“If I may take the word, Rigg, your Grace?”

“Go on, Xokha.”

“Thank you, Kalith. Since the creation of the world we have been involved in the creation and flourishing of the races. We helped them to be ready to take care of themselves.”

“Taking care of themselves is something else then facing off an all obliviating horde of demons!“

“You are right in that, Tlanxla, but we can’t keep fighting their battles for them. It seems to be time for the world to stop relying on us, the Old Ones, to fly in and save the day. We left our Children among the races in the world to guild them and take our Great Plan to its fulfillment.”

“Will they though? You speak like the swarming demons of chaos are easy to overcome. When they go down there is no one to fulfill the Plan!”

“Take it down, you both! We are getting nowhere if we are getting divided among each other. Itzl will wake up Uxmac to keep an eye out for now. If in due time our intervention is needed we can take more drastic actions.”

oOo

At the Southern wasteland the demons of chaos swarmed into the world. Stumbling across the debris of what once was one of the great polar gates. Amidst the feet of demons stampeding, one piece of star-metal started to move, rolling along with the tide of chaos, slowly moving north.

oOo

“It worked. Activation has been successful.”

“Did you manage to stay undetected?”

“The hunger for blood blinded them for what is among them. Uxmac got in to the land of our children.”

- - -

“O my, here they come”

“There are too much of them”

“We have to do something, Tepok!”

“No Potec, wait, don’t be so impatient. Have faith in our children, have faith in the first of their kind. We have taught him well."

"Look at that! He destroyed them all. Itza has been cleansed.”

oOo

Deep down in the Lustrian lands silence has fallen over the forests. The wind moves the treetops like you would spread a sheet over a table. Waving up and down, but gradually falling to find a place to rest. Some leaves floating down from above the tree tops, carried on air. No sound is heard, not the roaring of the Jaguar, not the call of an ape, not even the singing of birds or the buzzing of insects.

The silence is lying heavily on the forest, it is almost crushing.

In these widespread forests gaps show were the trees vail and the buildings of a city arise. Magnificent structures of stone, decorated with symbols. Carved in the stone blocks or accentuated with gold and gems. Vast pyramids surrounded by barracks and houses in an orderly fashion. Walls stretched wide and far to embrace all buildings inside her.

In the city the silence weighs the most, so much you could even taste it. City wide nothing moves and nothing is heard, there isn’t even a single soul to hear it.

Not that the city is empty, on the contrary. All over the city the colors red and blue are showing. The buildings and roads besmirched in mainly brown red, scattered around are bits of brighter red metal and, once bright but now, dull blue scales. The scars of a terrible fight, a war at it’s at most peak. The sounds of the battle are gone and the silence is deafening.

At the center of it all, atop the highest Pyramid, bloodshed has been unimaginable. The stones drenched dark red by the blood of all fallen soldiers friend and foe alike. Above this horrifying display a single stone floats at piece, lonely, standing apart from whole the city.

At the forest’s edge groups of Skinks break the closed vegetation and running into the plains leading to the gate. They’re in a hurry. Lead by a Skink priest this band of scouts was sent to retrieve all information about the battle that went down in Itza. To retrieve what could be saved.

At the gate of the city the company slowed down. They moved in to the city, sticking like glue to the stony walls of the gatehouse. Moving along, street by street at the time, thoroughly checking all buildings on their path. Quickly they reached the center of the city, almost within the hour. By now they knew there was no chance of finding any survivors. With the Skink priest at the front the company started climbing the Pyramid. Every step of the stairs more and more slaughtered Saurus Guards and dismembered Slaughterpriest lay wasted left and right. Progressing carefully and slowly the band of Skinks reached the top.

In front of the floating palanquin the Skinks search the stony top of the Pyramid. One of them had carried a roll of strong linen. He sets it down besides the Priest. The other ten Skinks now form a circle, arms spread and eyes closed, around the palanquin and the Priest.

Atop the pyramid, between the slain bodies, two orange marble looking eyes cased in a star-metal frame are watching upon the company.

oOo

“Now it is going to happen! He will start any second now!”

“Don’t make too big a deal out of it!’”

“Why not? This is something that never happened before!”

“Just make sure you’ll get in on it when it happens.”

“Do you think I wouldn’t know!? Be patient and let me do this now.”

oOo

The Skink priest’s arms swirl around in the air and his mouth forms the words of a powerful incantation. After a couple of rotations and minutes the roll of linen starts to unwind and on the floor around the palanquin light begins to show and a breeze of air is felt. As the incantation swells so thus the wind atop the pyramid. Pieces of flesh and bone, now shining bright are lifting of the stony floor and start to move in front of the Priest. The linen unwinds more and more to climb up in the sky as an enchanted snake, it surrounds the floating body parts and tries to constrict them as if it were his prey. Slowly this miraculous spectacle takes a shape. In the bright shining light the outlines of an oversized embalmed toad become clearer and clearer.

Just as the roll of linen is almost at its end the sound of metal against stone erupts as the orange eyed metal form moves quickly form in between the corpses into the circle of light. The Skinks surrounding the ritual incantation, overwhelmed by this sudden movement and sound, can’t get themselves to intervein. In a flash they see a metal form of their own size, four legs, a tail and a frill on his head pass by and enter the bright light.

At the same time as this thing entered the circle of light the Priest ends his incantation and the linen falls onto the floor. Atop the palanquin a mummified Slann had taken his place. Beside him a mummified skink is looking upon the Skink priest with its orange marble eyes.

oOo

“Yes it worked. He is in.”

“Well done! Let’s go tell Rigg that Uxmac is in place.”

Grrr, Imrahil

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Grrr, Imrahil

 

This is the short story I wrote for the October-November 2020 short story contest

The theme was "A place to call home"

My entry:

We all belong somewhere


The sound of footsteps resonated between the dark and moist walls of the hallways below the citadel. Torches casted their flickering light on the stones around them like little domes of hope in the lifeless void of black.

As the footsteps drew closer Tak’ek Muntoc sharpened his senses. The light, or rather the lack of it, was not what bothered him down here. It was the smell that he could not get accustomed to. His nostrils did not seem to rest. All the different smells confused him. There where the ‘normal’ smells of wet hay, rusting iron and molds, beyond that there was the evidently smell of elves, of course. Furthermore a hint of Dwarf and the unmistaken wafts of Orc and Skaven scum.

There had to be more cells down here, even for him out of sight. Once in a while he could hear the rat hissing and biting to anybody passing by. The Orc made his presence known by now and then ramming into the cell’s bars with everything he could lay his hands on, hoping every time that they would give in. The only audial proof of existence from the Dwarf was a low growling noise of approval, or disapproval for that matter, with what the guards said to him.

The footsteps neared Tak’ek’s cell. ‘Had this month already passed? It couldn’t have been a month already.’ Time is hard to tell when you’re deprived of daylight. From time to time he was pulled out of his cell to be brought to the laboratory. There he is tied up for the masters to study him. From his previous trips he had determined that there had to be an interval of roughly a month between them.

When the silence fell he stared through the bars upon three elves. All wearing their metal skins. Two of them had brighter, shinier skins with golden lines across them.

‘This is something new,’ Tak’ek thought, ‘these haven’t been down here before.’

‘Get up amphibian! Aislinn summons you to his chambers.’

One of them opens the cell and takes post by the open door, the other walks in grabs the Skink by his collar. With a loud ‘clang’ a chain is attached to it and Tak’ek is lead away.

Stairs after stairs they bring him higher and higher up in the citadel. Aislinn’s chambers are roughly two-third up the main tower. They stretch out over multiple floors. Tak’ek is brought onto the guest floor in the audience room, this room takes up almost half the guest floor and is decorated with the finest of silver, gold, marble and jade items you could ever imagine. Tak’ek had seen gold in spades back in his days of freedom, approximately two years ago, but even this room impressed him. He was able to study quite a lot of it in the hour that he was waiting there.

Finally Aislinn appeared through the floor high doors at the other end of the room. He walked over to the dresser and chair at the left hand side of the room. Out of the dresser he pulled a bottle of whiskey and a single glass. After pouring himself a glass he sad down on the chair. Only now laying eyes upon his company in the room.

“So,” he turned to Tak’ek, “a couple of weeks ago an expedition team rushed into the jungle beyond these walls.” Aislinn paused to take a sip of whiskey. “Just as you, we thought that it was the last we would see of them. But three days ago they surprisingly appeared again. All rattling on about comets and the end being neigh.” Afteer finishing his drink he continued: “When they finally calmed down they told us about a big froglike guy that can speak without moving his lips, about visions that he planted in their brains and about the truth that lays in those visions.”

Tak’ek smiled as he imagined the puny Elven brains being overwhelmed with this information, almost unable to comprehend.

“So, you know what I am talking about?”
“Yes.”
“You have seen these visions too?”
“Part of it I know.”
“Do you fear what is about to happen?”
“I know what I am tasked to do.”
“Duty is the death of fear.” Acknowledged Aislinn, “But what are you set out to do then? Sitting in a Cell?” he follows scampering.
To his surprise the Skink’s answer was: “yes”

Baffled by this answer he put his glass on the dresser and gazed out of the window for a while.
“Well this was a very productive chat…” he muttered, then in a more clear voice he said: “bring our amphibian friend to his chambers, we are done here.” He stood up and walked away through the doors that he had come in through.

Once back in his cell the door flung shut behind him. Tak’ek sad down on his improvised bed of hay and closed his eyes. With a deep breath he took in all the smells that confused him earlier and realized this is where he did belong, for now…

Grrr, Imrahil

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First a few words of my own:

For my stories I tend to grab hold of the Old-World. I think this is mostly because I can make sense of the geographical side of it, opposed to AoS where I think all is possible and nothing really makes sense.
The setting we start out in is the dungeons of a Citadel run by Elves. At the start of writing I wasn't yet sure if I would go back to the Elves or that I would go for something like the Empire. Though my lack of knowledge of the Empire and their history made me fall back on the Elves again.
The further line of story wasn't yet very clear to me.
At first I thought that the Skink would be able to flee or set free and travel to Quetza were amongst the ruins he would be miserable and be reminded (by the smell of Skaven) of the Dungeon where he had a better time.
For this to work he couldn't start out in the Empire for he than had to travel all the way overseas unnoticed...

To make sure it was clear that he was held in the Elven Citadel of Dusk (Most South point on Lustria) I referred to the Elven explorers from my first Short story(the then misnamed Archibalt ) Getting to the conversation I struggled(repeatedly stated in the entry-thread) very hard to find an angle which would lead to Aislinn setting free the Skink, in order to travel to Quetza.
After a couple of days I had to give up this goal in order to make the deadline of for entries.
Therefor I took the shortcut that costed me dearly.

There is a lot to learn from this. Not only from my own story, but also from the beauty of the other entries this contest

Grrr, Imrahil

 

And now for the reviews/criticism:

This review filled me with quite some hope. You made it clear to me that mentioning the laboratory made more dark than I was going for. I like how you interpreted the story in a way I hadn't intended. As said I had a good struggle to get even this little of conversation on paper, so for you seeing the conversation as the power of the story made me feel very joyful
You even managed to find a deeper meaning that I at all didn't had in mind.
Thank you dearly for this review!!

Grrr, Imrahil

 

Well... something with blowing a trumpet

Grrr, Imrahil

 

I like that you noticed the effort I took in describing the setting and emotions(something that lacked in my previous stories), this however came to cost the storyline somewhat
You read my take on the team pretty good

Grrr, Imrahil

 

Thanks for your review.
I agree with you about the description of the dwarf, even if he had reason to approve of something he might as well had not to due to the captors being Elves

About the Skink, though, I disagree. His role in the story was for him to be calm and reasonable, something that was made (somewhat) clear in the conversation with Aislinn. He was 'sent' to be captive in the Citadel and to await the time when he would be needed. Therefor he knew he was to stay for a long(er) period of time in captivity, so no need to be stressed about it.

Your true about the amount of event/action(or rather the lack of it) as explained in my own comment above this is mainly due to deadline stress
Your optional storyline would be an awesome follow-up on this piece, though it wouldn't have fitted the theme of "A place to call home"

Grrr, Imrahil

 

Thanks for reviewing, but .... ouch!

Thanks for the review. I get that it feels not complete. I hope you get the time to reread it sometime.
The Story itself will not get better, but hopefully you're able to read more in to it

Grrr, Imrahil

 

Thanks for your review! As said, in reply to the review of Scalenex, I perhaps focused to much on the describing part of the story. Still I am glad that it didn't go unnoticed
In the end I don't take to heart the lack of voter, albeit that during voting I was heavyhearted not to have had even one vote for quite a while.

Now I am very curious to who has spared me for being without any votes

Grrr, Imrahil

 

no offence meant it just seemed like 1 scene in a bigger story

 

I know, just another point to take up for the next story

Grrr, Imrahil

 

I really liked the twist when Tak'ek revealed his plan all along was staying in the prison. It definitely did shock me and made me want to read more despite the abrupt ending. like you said, I think it'd would've been fantastic for the story if you could've flushed it out some more.

Reading the dwarf was pretty interesting

I was thinking he was mildly enjoying the hissy fits from the orc and rat despite being imprisoned himself. It's a pretty creative way to show the dwarf's unyielding grudges and hatreds against those two races and i like it a lot. The descriptions of the rat and orc fitted them nicely too.

 

Sorry for the late reply

Thank you very much
I like the start of the story the most as well. I learned to be more describing for surroundings and setting.

Grrr, Imrahil

 

This is the short story I wrote for the January-February 2021 short story contest

The theme was "And now for something completely different"

My entry:

Sneaking in the Shadows

“One hour until closing time!”

The announcement bounces of the high white walls of the Great Court in the British Museum.

Larry was welcomed by this sound every day as he crossed the smooth floor of the immense hall to the security room.

At the far left corner he enters a small square room nicknamed ‘the Office’. The left wall is mounted with numerous monitors, somewhat in front of those monitors stands a desk with two decent office chairs. Murph greeted him enthusiastic: “Good morning Larry!” Larry knew this is mostly because his arrival announces the end of Murph’s working day.

“Good evening Murph. Anything special today?”

“Well the cleaning crew got a new addition that is one mighty fine work of art” to underline his words he nodded his head in the direction of a particularly monitor. That monitor showed a young woman mopping the floor of the Mexico Exhibition, in the north-east corner of the museum.

Larry watched Murph’s face form into a big smile. “Go ask her out! You’ll be off from work within an hour.” Murph’s smile disappeared for a second but he quickly restored it.

“I will, o, I will!”

“We will see about that. Please restore the camera’s view to its original position before you leave.”

Larry proceeded to the locker room to change into his uniform. When he returned he sat down next to Murph and checked the monitors. No more close ups of working staff. The only people showing up on the monitors are an elderly gentlemen, a middle-aged woman and a young couple holding hands. The later strolling through the rooms with not the least bit of hurry to make it to the exit.

Murph moved his chair in front of a microphone and flicked a switch.

“To all visitors remaining in the building, please make way to the exit. We are closing within fifteen minutes!”

Murph turned the switch back and stood up: “From here on out it is your problem.” He said smiling while he walked to the locker room.

After Murph had left ‘the Office’ Larry checked the monitors to see if the visitors proceeded to the exit as requested. He couldn’t help to mumble “You dirty little coward” upon noticing Murph’s quick getaway for the exit.


At closing time Larry went out for his first round. This first round consisted mostly of checking if there were still any visitors left in the building. At the end of his round Larry arrived at the main entrance as the remaining daytime personnel were leaving.

Outside, in front of the museum, a little crowd was gathered. This had become a regular occurrence the last months. They carried signs and shouted “Give us back our inheritance!” and “Thieves of culture!” In the last couple of months there were more and more people claiming pieces in the British Museum as theirs or part of their cultures inheritance stolen during colonialization many years ago.

Some people even tried to take items out of the museum themselves, of course without success.

Before heading back to ‘the Office’ Larry made sure that the exit was closed properly after the last person left the museum.

Back in his chair he stretched his arms above his head and put his feet on the desk. According to Larry this was the best part of the job, being able to relax during working hours. He would walk his second round when dusk fell, that wasn’t for an hour or two.

Leaning over he pulled a black hard plastic suitcase out of his backpack and placed it on the desk. On top if the suitcase was the emblem of an eagle. When Larry opened it up the red foam inside expanded a little like it just got some fresh air to breath. Underneath the layer of foam a vast collection of bright colored plastic figurines appeared.

Larry removed the figurines carefully out of the foam and positioned them on the desk. One after the other and he put them side by side, forming a line. The models, all equipped with a blowpipe and shield, looked like tiny lizards standing on their behind legs. Beside the colored models a bunch of black coated models appeared and a set of paints and brushes. Last out of the case came a larger creature, colored, more amphibious than reptilian and seated on a floating stone throne.

After poring himself a cup of coffee and filling a mug of tap water he sat himself down again and started painting some of the black models. Once every minute he quickly looked at the monitors to check if there were any changes.

Larry placed his brush in the mug of water right after dusk fell. He grabbed his keys and flashlight and took off for his round of inspection. Moving through the rooms he noticed nothing special or out of place. Walking from room to room his mind wandered off. If this night will be as usual he could complete his monthly goal of painting models with even one week of the month left.

Upon arriving back at ‘the Office’ Larry saw some blue light flashes coming from underneath the closed door. With growing suspicion and a heavily beating hart he reached for his keys, his other hand on the taser on his right hip. As slowly and silently as possible he slit the keys in the lock and turned them around. Then he took a deep breath and kicked the door open while pulling his taser out and holding it in front of him to aim at any danger present in the room. Nothing… no movement, no sound other than the echo of the door that slammed against the wall.

In the corner of his eyesight he noticed that one of the monitors on the wall was flashing with blue light. Four times and then it stopped.

Finding out that it was just a technical glitch he let a sigh of relieve. He placed the taser back in the holster and the keys on his belt. Before continuing on his models he refilled his cup with steaming coffee. Before sitting back down he stood staring at the monitors on the wall for a while.

When his heartbeat returned to normal he sat down to pick up painting again. Just at the moment that Larry picked up his brush there was movement on one of the monitors. The Mexico Exhibition. Larry stared at the monitor to see what had drawn his attention. Against the wall of the room there was a vague form swirling and sneaking in the shadows of the displays and artifacts. He could not identify what it was. But then the form stood in the weak glare of the night lighting and Larry dropped his brush in shock. There stood a Lizard-like creature with a frill on its head, it walked on his behind legs and was inspecting one of the Lintels on the wall.

With a high pitched hiss and a nod of his head the creature commanded two others to the Lintel in the middle of the wall while a third stood in the doorway to stand on the lookout.

Larry overcame his first shock and was bursting into action. His training took over from his routine, with his taser in hand he stormed to the Mexico Exhibition. With every step his disbelieve grew: “what…? how…? why…?” The last couple of meters he slowed down to assess the situation closely. There was the entrance to the Exhibition, but no creature. “What is happening now?” He sneaked closer and closer. Their high pitched sounds where coming still out of the room.

Suddenly the museum’s alarms sounded and Larry ran towards the room, just before he entered the room the blue flashes appeared again. One flash and a second one, just as Larry came in to the room a third flash started and he saw a tail disappearing in a thin wall of blue light before the light faded. He was two steps further in to the room when suddenly a pain went through his neck and it felt like a stone pressed on his muscles and eyelids. Just before he hit the ground he saw the fourth creature turning away and then a blue flash.
Larry hit the ground with a blow dart stuck in his neck.

Back in ‘the Office’ the eyes of the frog-like creature on the throne turned back from blue to black. Amidst the models on the desk one lizard model was holding a lintel whilst wielding a curved blade.

Outside the sound of the alarm carried in to the night while the sound of nearing police cars came from the opposite direction.

Grrr, Imrahil

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A few words of my own:

As many of you figured out this story is some sort of parody on the Night at the Museum movies. This is why the main character is called Larry. For the effect of this story I have done some research out side of WarhammerWiki, for me this was the first time I did so for a short story.

I picked of the British Museum for the controversy there was lately(last couple of years?) around pieces in their exhibits that where taken from the original owners back in the colonialization times. To set this tone even more I added the angry mob outside demonstrating for that exact cause.
In a twist it wasn't them who would take something of 'themselves' back but the skinks retaining a secret plaque that originally should belong to them.

I now see that the last point was not clear enough and somewhat rushed.

Definitely points to work on for the next story.

Grrr, Imrahil

 

And now for the reviews:

well nothing to add here

Grrr, Imrahil