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Destiny

Discuss all things Destiny.
originally posted in:The Black Garden
Edited by Aleroth Aloki: 7/15/2013 2:13:33 PM
268

Spread your wings. (Fan Fiction Contest)

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for us writers to take center stage for a time. The Black Garden as well as our friends over in Arts and Stuff are going to host a contest that is solely devoted to writers. The rules are simple. For any who wish to enter, you are tasked with writing a short little anecdote that is to have a maximum of 300 words. The location for this piece of work is to be located in the picture provided above. The deadline for entering is this Sunday(14th) at midnight. For any who wish to enter, please submit your stories by placing them in the comments. Judging will be done in two phases. The first phase will consist of a Panel of both groups reading over each story and deciding which seven are the best of the best. Once the first stage is complete, we shall hand it over to you, the audience, to decide who is ranked number one as lore master. The Winner of this contest shall receive a print of the Buried City signed by the Destiny writing team. Good luck and Be Brave.

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  • Too Late Red dust danced and swirled as the hoverbike weaved through the skeletons of once illustrious buildings. The sky was always gloomy, but today seemed particularly malicious, and as he rounded the final corner and the encampment came into view, the silence proved him right. There should have been gunfire, explosions, plasma burning holes in the air. Even screams would have been a welcome sound. Instead there was only ear-splitting silence. He dismounted and jogged into the center, his hastily-clad armor rattling and his rifle to his ear. A huge Cabal shield lay discarded on the ground dented by bullets and blackened by fire. Further evidence of a firefight was obvious; empty shells littered the concrete, fresh scrapes and burns were everywhere, and it smelled of sulfur. He walked into the structure and the smell of death would have overwhelmed him if it wasn’t so familiar. He followed the shells and huge boot-prints through the first room. A hunter’s helmet was on its side by the doorway, a wide dent in the top. He kicked the helmet over and saw blood on the inside. In the next room there was more blood, and a familiar rifle lay in pieces, abandoned. In the final room he found her, slumped lifelessly against a wall. Dried blood ran down from her head to her shoulder, staining the sand-colored cape she had found with him on Venus. A thick knife lay next to her hand, blood red to the hilt. Aside the knife was the hunter’s killer, his huge mouth open almost as wide as the gash between his ribs. The Cabal had no other wounds, but a hunter knew where to place her blades. “I should have been here.” The Titan said to her as he carried her back to his hoverbike.

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