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Prophesy of the First. (written to hint at my Artisans No 17 entry)

Listen to thy God, Oh Supposed Masters of the Dawi Zharr.
Heed the words of thy God, Oh Wielders of Magic’s.
Hear me and tremble, Oh Incompetent Rulers of my people.

Find the first of your kind.
His heart is as dark as you wrongly believe yours to be.
No magic’s does he use.
Though his simple weapons are blessed by me.

No more shall you lead but He you shall obey.
Thru blackest night and darkest day.
For any to persevere.
The Horns of Hashut above should rear.

Bow to me and tremble, Oh Incompetent Rulers of my people.
Believe the words of thy God, Oh Wielders of Magic’s.
Obey thy God, Oh Supposed Masters of the Dawi Zharr.
Or Perish.
Dawi Zharr Prophesy - Scribes Contest No 4, original version 211 words.
So not much was chopped to get into the 200 word limit.


When all was lost,
I kept you alive
When your usefulness was at an end,
I gave you purpose.
You pledged to worship and obey me,
You failed.

Darkness beyond all light,
Heat and fire beyond all that the guts of the earth could contain.
Both these you shall know.
Those who hold me in their heart of hearts will survive
Those who hold themselves more precious will not
You know who you are already.
Knowing this and yet you do not believe.

In my name only will
My last servants know hope
In my name only will
The chance for Power and Glory be theirs
In my name only will you know me
The coldest blood crawls through my veins
The hottest fire drips from my mouth

“Found scrawled upon a scorched parchment, In front of a seated Hellsmith.  A Hellsmith known to have been dead for half a century. A Hellsmith who’s body should not exist for he had been cremated. He who had been condemned to death for his apostasy. In handwriting that was undeniably testified by the archivists to be that of the disgraced heretic.  Known to the lords for they were the ones who had condemned him."

The ink was still fresh.
Nice ones! The second one had my vote in SC IV. Would you like to split the two works in two separate threads?  It'll make indexing them in the prophecy list that much easier. Happy
Good work on both of them Happy
Found my entry for the Scribes Contest No1, from back in Nov 2014.
Subject Matter: Chaos Dwarf Infamous Quotes

My blood for Hashut.
My life for Hashut.
My soul for Hashut.
But first neighbour
- Final verse of the dedication of sacrifices to Hashut as spoken by Lord Sorcerer Gred'Zoed

"We go to Dust.
We go to Ashes.
In Sorcerers we Trust,
But see to your Axes!"
- Part of a Clan Dark Fold Marching Chant
My entry for Scribes No2, Subject Matter: Hobgoblins, the Middlemen Slave Caste.

Can be seen here;
as it is not a "small work" and I've included both the shortened / cut-down entry version and the full length version now.
Scribes Contest No 3 was for an End of Times theme called: Visions of Doom

Again it a bigger length and I made a full length version then cut it down for the competition.
It can be seen here:-
OK: Now for Scribes Contest No 5

Subject Matter: Blackest Infamy - Chaos Dwarfs in the Eyes of Others

Again, a bigger one with two versions, but I can't find the full length version at the moment
Artisans No 12 – Subject “Chaos dwarf Weapon”
I didn't really like this entry. I always felt this was almost more Vanilla Dwarf than Chaos Dwarf

Storm Brothers

My brother's eyes met mine, as cold and angry as any tempest
Harsh words, ill-conceived at best, had led us here.
Anger Driven, Rage Fueled, A Dawi-Zharr does not back down.

My brother's axe, the twin of mine, slides swiftly out of its case
As I his twin, do the same with mine.
As beard-lings, we'd named them for the storm that we would be upon our enemies.
One the Lightning, Storms Herald and the other Thunder, Storms Voice.

The silence before the storm slid by as slowly as a breath drawn in, then broke.
Two brothers, Two axes, Lightning and Thunder crashed together.
Two midnight etched blades meet for the first time in anger.

Iron Clad, Oath Bound, Anger Sworn, Shame Driven
Two axes, One brother. The heavy, measured tread of his stride into battle.
He could not let his brothers axe lie silent nor ever allow any other to wield it.

Alone amongst many, amid multitudes wreathed in clashing steel and pain.
No comrades-in-arms at his shoulders now.   No shields to ward his side.
No Brother with his axe to guard his back.   Only Death before him.
Found the Limerick I wrote for but didn't enter into Artisans No 12. I called it "The Hobgoblins Lot!"

The Dawi Zharr was grinning
His gait almost a skipping
The Hobgoblins all cringed
They thought him unhinged
And knew they'd be getting a whipping.

I know I played with a Haiku back then as well but it has gone missing for the moment
Good compilation thead for your writings! You might want to link it in your signature, and the same goes for your project log. Happy
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