originally posted in:The Black Garden
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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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--AGENT FIELD SALVAGE REPORT-- OR: [rehab status/ident. restricted] DEST: Mars Lib, Bastion Command REF: Section 0000819, audiolog [filed under unconfirmed, per rehab stat regs] --- Sector contains ruins; an old filling and shuttle station. The surrounding area could’ve been a commercial district back when, I guess. Some of the outlying structures look about to collapse, but I stood a while and peeked in the shop windows. Can’t believe some of the stuff people used to wear. You never told me it might be occupied. No signs of Cabal presence anywhere in the vicinity, but there was some weird stuff down there, some weird living stuff. Just heading down the station steps gave me the worst migraine, and I could swear I was seeing things. In the dark, they almost looked like people, but the fingers were too long. I got one good look at a face before they jumped me, and there wasn’t much face to speak of. Something down there kept popping into my head, so I got out. No sweep of the area, so file this wherever you like. Whatever they are, the Cabal showed up right as I hit the surface, and I barely made it out. Tell me you’ve heard of these things, and just decided not to mention them. Because that’s the sort of thing I expect from you, but what I don’t expect is to be mobbed by telepathic zombies in a sandy, old filling station. I might as well tell you now that I’m done. That’s the last time I put myself in the fire for you, so don’t come looking for me, and don’t call me unless the Fallen come knocking on your front door. --- [Return contact suggested, though difficult. Known areas of operation attached, but use caution when approaching.]