[Fall Event] Advanced Writing Contest
Post Count: 307
The advanced writing contest is for those who have experience in writing(>1 year of story writing experience.). The writing challenge is open for submissions from the day of this post until November 7th at 8 PM EST/Game time. Submissions will be read and judged by admins and the winner selected based on creativity, writing, and storyline.
Entry posted to the 2020 Fall Event page on the help site.
Breeding to a level 50, high PS, 6E, stud/brood of breed of choice with 1 guaranteed gene. Excludes Lp gene for Cobs.
1 of the Limited Seasonally Elusive Black Cats
All submissions must follow all Eqcetera rules.
Stories should be a minimum of 200 and a maximum of 600 words.
The prompt is fall/Halloween themed but stories should not contain blood, gore etc.
Using characters based on true to life people or events is not allowed. We want you to use your imagination!
The story does not have to involve horses but should be Eqcetera themed.
You may not enter both the novice and advanced sections.
Your prompt is:
“The moon hovered over Eqcetera and suddenly turned an orange hue. Locals begin to speculate why…”
Good luck and let your imagination flow!
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10/24/2020 8:00 pm
Post Count: 157
The Phantom of the Eqcetera Mines
Over the rolling hills of Eqcetera, the full moon hung. Large, it was, like the eye of a beast searching for its prey. Nobody knew how or why, but on this oddly cold night the moon shifted and spun like a galaxy of its' own. Orange it turned, an unearthly glow radiating around it. Fog blew in, the locals grew fearful.
Fillies and colts clung close to their mothers, mewling pitifully. It seemed the horses knew more than the humans of the land, their pupils began to dilate as an oozing sludge of darkness swallowed up what was once peaceful and safe. Strange dragons they appeared to become - eyes ablaze as the air grew colder still. The horses' breath puffed like smoke, their ears laid back, their bodies were stiff.
They think it came from the mines, it appeared in a crash of dangerous soot that billowed out of the gaping maw in the earth. Blacker than night, but still somehow transparent. Its' eyes reflected the moon - casting orange lights in the shadows. The phantom horse galloped across fields. It somehow remained silent while also making sounds that resembled distant thundering. The people of the land strained to get a closer look at the animal, full of awe for the strange yet still beautiful beast.
Some claim they saw a rider on the back of the horse, but most say it did not. Some still claim it wasn't a horse, it was something else, something that this land - this universe, had never seen before. Too strange to truly comprehend. The child of an Eldritch horror, perhaps. All the people of Eqcetera knew for sure was the phantom did no harm. Once the dark horse had quickly made its way to the peak of the tallest mountain in the land it whinnied, though some say it sounded more like a roar. Despite the ferocity of the sound - the horses that were once fearful seemed to become calm. The phantom reared up, its mane and tail defied physics, flowing through the air much gentler than they should have on the windy mountain. As soon as its hooves hit the ground - or some say, just before, the phantom vanished. The moon returned to its original hue, the dark and fog dissipated. The moon looked brighter, the stars sung in glory.
The following day, a group of brave citizens made their way to the mine. To their surprise, they found many valuables that couldn't have previously gone unnoticed. Quartz, rubies, labradorite, you name it, it was there. The people celebrated the phantom's gift, officially dubbing it 'The Phantom of the Eqcetera Mines'. A small statue was carved into the rocks outside of the mine, a tribute to the graceful creature. It is said if you present the statue with gifts that the eyes will glow orange and you will be blessed with luck the next time you set foot into the mines.
10/24/2020 10:21 pm
Post Count: 78
A Little Night Magic
In the dead of night (well, like 9pm, they had things to do in the morning), and in the middle of the woods (well, like half a mile’s walk from her house, she wasn’t trying to die), Morgan leaned over a cauldron (okay, it was a soup pot, but it was what they had to work with) while Davita tossed a ball of moss in from like three feet away. It whacked Morgan’s nose, bounced off, and landed squarely in the cauldron/soup pot.
“Yes!” Davita crowed, hopping from one foot to another.
“Yes, you’re very talented. Destined for greatness.” Davita grinned.
Morgan’s grandmother had sworn that if a full moon rose on Halloween, she could do actual magic. What kind of magic, she hadn’t specified. Morgan hadn’t thought to ask, and now her grandmother was gone, and maybe it was the kind of magic that brought people back to say goodbye.
Her grandmother had just called it her Halloween potion. She’d had a lot of little things like that: crystals, a small altar with a candle, a silver knife, a feather, a slim piece of rowan-wood. Morgan’s mother had always been dismissive. Secretly, Morgan had always believed.
The Halloween potion had everything her grandmother had told her to add, in the order she’d told her to add it: fresh alfalfa, powdered quartz, dew from the grass outside of the mines, a cup of raw milk, a cup of fresh water from the river, a cup of water from the ocean. And now the little ball of moss from the north forest. Frankly, it stank. Morgan had not expected magic to smell this bad.
“Anything happening?” Davita had, in extremely Davita fashion, worn all black and a witch’s hat and done her makeup so her face looked ghoulish and gaunt in the gloomy light.
“Not yet.” They were supposed to add all of the ingredients while “radiating their intentions,” whatever that meant. Morgan had radiated hard, as hard as she could. And she had been saving an ingredient her grandmother hadn’t mentioned, something she thought might help: a small curl of her grandmother’s soft hair, which Morgan had kept in a locket since she had died. She still had part of it — she couldn’t bear to part with the whole thing — but the other part was about to go into this soup pot. She took a deep breath, screwed up her eyes, and dropped it in.
Eyes closed, she wished as hard as she could.
She felt Davita’s pity from across the soup pot. “Don’t,” she said. Davita sighed.
“I’m sorry, Morgan.” Davita did sound sorry.
“Can you… maybe go?” Morgan’s voice was thick. Davita nodded, and soon was gone.
Morgan didn’t know how long she sat there. She really did have things to do in the morning; she should go. She stood, dusting her clothes off. She dumped the soup pot out.
Abruptly, the light around her turned warm. She blinked. Had she fallen asleep? Was it already dawn? But when she looked up… the moon was a brilliant, glowing orange, huge and ripe in the sky like a late-summer apricot. “Wow,” she whispered.
Her grandmother had loved apricots.
A slight breeze ran itself over Morgan’s cheek, like the brush of a loving fingertip. Her hair stirred. She felt embraced, a warm pocket of air settling itself over her like a much-loved hoodie. She felt so safe.
The next day, when people at the barn were talking excitedly about the weird orange moon and what it could mean, Morgan only smiled, and touched her locket.
10/25/2020 12:53 pm
Post Count: 65
The Orange Night
Kalie went to her stable to check on her horses. When she walked in she suppressed a scream because what she was looking at wasnt scary; it was horrifying. She walked up to her larger stallion. It seemed like someone put some orange pain all over his black coat. She looked at the other horses and it was only her stallion and lead mare that got covered in orange. Throughout the day she went trail riding and for some reason all on the sides of the trail there were pumpkins.” I have never seen these on the trail before...That's odd.” she whispered. That night she checked her horses and found a pumpkin in each of their stalls. “What's going on?” She went to bed that night and heard a clopping sound on the pavement around the barn. Then she heard a squish then the sound of rolling and more clopping. She went outside and couldn't find any horse that made those sounds but did find four more pumpkins in her driveway. She was spooked because the moon was even orange. She called her dad and told him what had been going on the past few days. He replied in a calm tone “ Are you ok? I'm sure there are teenagers running around the night before Halloween anyways. Maybe I should come over and have a steak out. Later that night she heard a knock at the door. “Hi Dad.” He looked a little grim and pointed outside. What i saw was shocking. Around fifty pumpkins all over the pasture and fence. Dad went and got his hunting stand and put it high up in a tree. I joined him. I looked out and saw the most unbelievable sight. It was my neighbors chestnut Friesian affectionately named ‘Pumpkin’ because she was born on Halloween. We watched as she jumped the paddock fence into her owner's pumpkin patch grabbing a vine of pumpkins and hopping into our pasture. She quickly dropped the pumpkins and did two or three more trips. Then the craziest thing happened she went into our barn and unhooked all the stall doors and she leads a herd of our horses to the paddock and they all stomp and roll in the pumpkins turning their coat and manes orange. A few minutes later the horses disperse and we watch as Pumpkin jumps back into her paddock. We told the newspaper and they did a section just on Pumpkin and the blood moon that happened the night before Halloween. The whole town came together Halloween morning to bath the pumpkin out of each horse including the troublesome Pumpkin. Pumpkins owner apologized and got a new gate and fence to try to keep pumpkin in but needless to say pumpkin struck Halloween eve.
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10/28/2020 9:19 am
Post Count: 117
The Shadow Horse
The night was deep and long that Halloween. Though I am old now I still remember. It had been a supernatural year, and that night of the haunts and spirits dwelling among mortals, had been feared as it approached. I had only been a wee sprout back then, but my mother had needed firewood to make a soup for all of us children, so, bundled in my meager coat and thread bear boots, I hurried to do her bidding. I was a terrified little wellp, my hands cold and raw without their mittens to protect them. I remember how the wind howled and moaned through the skeleton trees, but on I chopped. Suddenly the moon grew orange, like a blood orange, and fog rolled in from the north, that's when I remember hearing it, the whispering voice coming from the dark forest on the border of our little hovel's yard.
They seemed to be as if nothing but the wind, but I knew better. There I stood shaking, clutching my axe with my tiny cold fingers, when I saw it. The thing of legend. It was a thing of terror and beauty. A horse made of nothing of black shadows swirling around in some sort of wild dance to give the creature its body. The whispering voices had ceased, as if in awe of the creature just as I was. The shadow horse stood tall and proud as it watched me from the woods. I clutched weakly to my axe. Though what could an axe do to shadows? I could make no sound, it was like my voice was too scared to work. It watched me from the blue orbs that were its eyes. So deep and penetrating, like they were looking into my soul, I still remember how I quaked there helplessly before this creature of legend as it kingly stood before me, ever so silent.
Then that mighty creature swirled towards me, its shadow hoofs never touching the ground. The creature was much bigger than it had looked from the woods, and it eyes, were much more penetrating. I remember trying to get away from it, trembling and moving backward, deperately trying to get out of the way of this powerful being. To my horror, my boot snagged and got caught on the pile of wood I had chopped for my mother and I tumbled onto my bottom in the cold damp earth. It continued forward till our noses were close enough to touch should I flinch. But I could not move... I dare not move... lest the creature think twice about not attacking me. It looked into my eyes so deep, I could see the soul of this creature in its bright blue orbs....and then it was gone. As suddenly as it had been there, it was just as suddenly was not. I sat there in awe, still clutching my axe, staring into the void where the shadow horse had just been.
Then the whispering voices picked back up, at first loud, and then they went away as if following the shadow horse like I longed to do. I watched in awe as the orange moon slowly turned back to its pale original white color, and the fog rolled back to wherever its source was. I was brought back to my senses as my mother banged open the door and yelled for me to hurry up lest I freeze. I scrambled up and hurried to rechieve the wood I had chopped. My small chapped hands brushed on something hard and cold. I picked it up and held it up to the light of the moon and my eyes grew in bewildered amazement. I was holding a large blue gem in my small hands. I could make no noise as I stared at it stupidly, suddenly realizing, that this precious stone looked like the shadow horses glowing orbs or eyes. I looked into the woods in time to see the creature watching me with its head held high and shadow mane swirling in the night. It dipped its head and then was gone once more.
Though I am old now, I still remember that night. How that creature had appeared and changed my family's life. We no longer lived in poverty after that, thanks to the kindness of one halloween night.
Edited 2 times
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