Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Show rules for this event
Winter's Crown
They say that killing a god is impossible. That to even dream of such a thing is hubris on a scale that defies mortal understanding. But that shouldn’t stop someone. I grimace as I sharpen my weapon. This is madness, it truly is. But that won’t stop us, will it?
I stare at the fire in silence, my hooves feeling the edge of my blade with a careful movement. There’s a knock at the door. I turn around, looking at my door. It creaks open to reveal a unicorn clad in a crimson cloak, a ruby necklace around her throat. I snort slightly and stand up, sheathing my blade. “You ready?”
She nods and the pair of us make our way out of the building, to where the great storm billows around us. Snow piles in drifts below us, clogging many of the paths that one would normally take. Icicles coat the makeshift tents, their inhabitants shivering in them or around fires. We’ll have to end this now. Too many have been already lost.
I glance at the storm surrounding us, then at the unicorn. I swallow nervously. “Clover?”
She pauses mid-step to look at me. “Hm?”
“If we fail?”
Clover nods towards the sepulchers on the ground below. Soldiers, mages, farmers, nobles, all of them tributes to the winter’s glory. Or so they would have us believe. The spirits. The servants of that indescribable thing. The storm. The winter. It has come to destroy us. And we’ll kill them today. Or die trying.
Cookie meets us partway up, his feathered cap shielding his face from the storm. He nods slightly and we continue on. Hundreds are frozen on this slope. Statues of crystal, eyes and mouths expressing their fear before they met their end.
As we approach the top, we begin to hear them. There’s three of them. Chanting. Perhaps that’s the wrong word. It is the storm, singing in its deadly voice to the beauty that the winter has wrought. Ancient tongues, formed from thunder and wind, speaking of eternity spent in an endless sleep, never to be woken. The north has long since become theirs. Now they’ve come to finish what they’ve started.
The cave greets us at the top of the cliff. The spirits, icy mockeries of what we call forms, dance around it, their singular pair of hooves striking the air and clouds as if it was solid. Well, for me, it would have been solid, no matter what Hurricane says. Clouds freeze and come to the ground as they dance, crystals forming along their surface as the creatures glide through the air.
I look to Clover and Cookie, who both nod. Clover’s horn lights with a pale glow, while Cookie merely advances, seemingly ready to beat the storm spirits into nothing more than wisps. We step into the cave. The statues of our leaders stand there, their expressions mixtures of both anger and horror, likely from each other and from the ice respectively.
The three of us stand there for a moment, waiting to see what they do. The leader of the creatures, who we have christened Gale, lands in front of us, her eyes of white fire burning brightly. Her voice comes out cacophonic, like the rolling of thunder across an echoing canyon. Surrender, the voice howls, making my eardrums want to bleed. Join us, so that we may rest.
Clover steps forward, her eyes hard. “And if we refuse?”
Then we will fight. The sprit tilts her head to one side, pointing towards the statues of our leaders. And you will join them. Her spectral sisters alight next to her, their eyes glowing almost as brightly, at this point nearly blinding us. Ice spreads across the cavern, with the three of them at the center.
I step forward, unsheathing my blade. “We’ll fight you.”
Gale’s burning eyes seem to be surprised for a moment. Then an eerily icy smile crosses her all-to equine face. So be it. Then the ice comes for us.
I stare at the fire in silence, my hooves feeling the edge of my blade with a careful movement. There’s a knock at the door. I turn around, looking at my door. It creaks open to reveal a unicorn clad in a crimson cloak, a ruby necklace around her throat. I snort slightly and stand up, sheathing my blade. “You ready?”
She nods and the pair of us make our way out of the building, to where the great storm billows around us. Snow piles in drifts below us, clogging many of the paths that one would normally take. Icicles coat the makeshift tents, their inhabitants shivering in them or around fires. We’ll have to end this now. Too many have been already lost.
I glance at the storm surrounding us, then at the unicorn. I swallow nervously. “Clover?”
She pauses mid-step to look at me. “Hm?”
“If we fail?”
Clover nods towards the sepulchers on the ground below. Soldiers, mages, farmers, nobles, all of them tributes to the winter’s glory. Or so they would have us believe. The spirits. The servants of that indescribable thing. The storm. The winter. It has come to destroy us. And we’ll kill them today. Or die trying.
Cookie meets us partway up, his feathered cap shielding his face from the storm. He nods slightly and we continue on. Hundreds are frozen on this slope. Statues of crystal, eyes and mouths expressing their fear before they met their end.
As we approach the top, we begin to hear them. There’s three of them. Chanting. Perhaps that’s the wrong word. It is the storm, singing in its deadly voice to the beauty that the winter has wrought. Ancient tongues, formed from thunder and wind, speaking of eternity spent in an endless sleep, never to be woken. The north has long since become theirs. Now they’ve come to finish what they’ve started.
The cave greets us at the top of the cliff. The spirits, icy mockeries of what we call forms, dance around it, their singular pair of hooves striking the air and clouds as if it was solid. Well, for me, it would have been solid, no matter what Hurricane says. Clouds freeze and come to the ground as they dance, crystals forming along their surface as the creatures glide through the air.
I look to Clover and Cookie, who both nod. Clover’s horn lights with a pale glow, while Cookie merely advances, seemingly ready to beat the storm spirits into nothing more than wisps. We step into the cave. The statues of our leaders stand there, their expressions mixtures of both anger and horror, likely from each other and from the ice respectively.
The three of us stand there for a moment, waiting to see what they do. The leader of the creatures, who we have christened Gale, lands in front of us, her eyes of white fire burning brightly. Her voice comes out cacophonic, like the rolling of thunder across an echoing canyon. Surrender, the voice howls, making my eardrums want to bleed. Join us, so that we may rest.
Clover steps forward, her eyes hard. “And if we refuse?”
Then we will fight. The sprit tilts her head to one side, pointing towards the statues of our leaders. And you will join them. Her spectral sisters alight next to her, their eyes glowing almost as brightly, at this point nearly blinding us. Ice spreads across the cavern, with the three of them at the center.
I step forward, unsheathing my blade. “We’ll fight you.”
Gale’s burning eyes seem to be surprised for a moment. Then an eerily icy smile crosses her all-to equine face. So be it. Then the ice comes for us.
This is a clever recasting of the tale.
Multiple sepulchers is rather odd. A sepulcher is either a monument or a room, not just a coffin or grave.
I think it would be more useful to have a sense of the ponies that these three are fighting for instead of focusing on the dead. It feels like everypony is dead, and these are the last three remaining ponies, in which case the battle is essentially meaningless.
In neigh-canon, Smart Cookie is female (Journal of the Two Sisters). I believe only Commander Hurricane is a stallion.
Multiple sepulchers is rather odd. A sepulcher is either a monument or a room, not just a coffin or grave.
I think it would be more useful to have a sense of the ponies that these three are fighting for instead of focusing on the dead. It feels like everypony is dead, and these are the last three remaining ponies, in which case the battle is essentially meaningless.
In neigh-canon, Smart Cookie is female (Journal of the Two Sisters). I believe only Commander Hurricane is a stallion.
>>Trick_Question
Actually, the dictionary definition of sepulcher is just 'a place of burial'. So, while it may be more commonly used as you're saying here, this is a valid use of the term.
Actually, the dictionary definition of sepulcher is just 'a place of burial'. So, while it may be more commonly used as you're saying here, this is a valid use of the term.
There are some proofreading flubs here and there, but the overall tone is a great blend of classic fantasy and desperate survival. Very nice work.
You've obviously got a pretty keen eye for descriptions and setting: This is a very evocative piece of work, with a great line in high fantasy running through it. It was tense, and atmospheric and—as a result—pretty darn gripping. Only... I never once felt like this was a self-contained story; it read as though it was a section of something much bigger. I could imagine some bookending with that opening line might help give the piece more of a sense of a resolution. Don't get me wrong though, I enjoyed this very much. Thanks for sharing.
I'd almost want:
To see this end with it being a bedtime story Warleader Celestia is telling her young protege, Twilight Sparkle, after their evening martial arts training--just pull back and show us a glimpse of the Equestria that resulted from this being the incident that brought the three tribes together. As it is, though, it's a very nice scene.
Mike
To see this end with it being a bedtime story Warleader Celestia is telling her young protege, Twilight Sparkle, after their evening martial arts training--just pull back and show us a glimpse of the Equestria that resulted from this being the incident that brought the three tribes together. As it is, though, it's a very nice scene.
Mike
Hmm… I'll be more lukewarm than the former commenters. I like the setting and all, and you've a knack for vivid descriptions but: 1. There's no real pony thing here – take any fantasy world and you can comfily lodge this story in – and 2. there is no resolution. The story stops midways.
For both reasons I can't rank this story first, but it still will be high on my slate.
For both reasons I can't rank this story first, but it still will be high on my slate.
Hmmm... So, the fires of friendship were more like the fires of combat...
I'm really not sure what to say about this one, aside from "I liked it." and "Thumbs up."
I'm really not sure what to say about this one, aside from "I liked it." and "Thumbs up."
The descriptions are solid, but ultimately, I'm not sure that this really adds to the tale of Hearth's Warming.
Solid writing. The description holds my attention, and it maintains a solid feeling of tension.
The story doesn't really do anything, though. It somewhat undercuts the original Hearth's Warmimg Story (which I'm impressed is possible, given it was previously resolved by ponies huddling up in fear). The actual characters of Pansy, Cookie, and Clever don't quite get displayed at any point, and the outcome is pre-established, so I'm not totally invested.
The story doesn't really do anything, though. It somewhat undercuts the original Hearth's Warmimg Story (which I'm impressed is possible, given it was previously resolved by ponies huddling up in fear). The actual characters of Pansy, Cookie, and Clever don't quite get displayed at any point, and the outcome is pre-established, so I'm not totally invested.
Whelp, really did not think I'd finish eighth. Figured I'd get eighth to last or something like that. Anyway, restrospect!
So, the basic idea of this was that it takes place right before the fires of friendship get lit. Pretty much every track, magic, weapons, armies, and so on have failed against the windigos, but despite all this, the three of them form up a team to try and kill them. Logically, conventional weapons fail and they promptly begin to get consumed by the winter. The general idea was that the windigos overwhelmed them, at least at the end of this scene, because they still could feed off of hatred (something that was definitely lost), and that when they're being consumed, the three of them just talk before they die. The rest is history.
Windigos, and monsters in general, are a fascinating topic to write about for me, mostly because I think that the truly terrifying ones are the ones that mirror us to a certain extent. That's the main reasons I ended up finding myself writing about the windigos. I think they represent something truly horrific in Equestria, a land that emphasizes trust, friendship and working together as one. The windigos are, in my opinion, the antithesis of said principle- a manifestation of the apathy and hatred the tribes had for one another.
The story itself has been a concept I've been toying with for ages, i.e. killing immortals. I considered doing this with Discord originally, but then realized that given that I had three, four hours at max, that'd require a lot more work-around with OCs and such than I had time to do. As such, I decided to make use of the show's resources, adapting an old tale and setting this story just before the conclusion of that tale, which allowed me to focus on emphasizing the sheer terror of the windigos' magic and winter.
>>Trick_Question The decisions for focusing mainly on those the windigoes had claimed vs the living was one that I toyed with for a little while, but at the end, I wanted to hammer home the sense of not many options being left. The basic idea was that the windigos' victory was nigh complete, and that's why things look so grim for Pansy, Clover and Cookie. As for side-canon and the like, I don't really have access to that kind of information, so I mostly just roll with what the show hands me, using whatever else I happen to stumble upon in my madness.
>>TheCyanRecluse>>FanOfMostEverything Glad you two liked it. Although I never really realized that this really qualified as 'classic fantasy' (although now I'm going to start doing so, because I love classic fantasy).
>>Baal Bunny I didn't realize that the story could be viewed as combat being what stopped the windigos until you pointed it out. I'll be honest, my basic concept was more along the lines of even violence failing, and then they just talk before they die, and that's what triggers the fire. My idea was to take the moment before the scene everyone knows, and try to tell a story how it would have been for them in the final minutes or so.
>>Ceffyl_Dwr>>Monokeras Blegh. Resolution. I knew I forgot something. Had I possessed another three hundred words (which, incidentally, is enough for this to hit Fimfic), I would have almost certainly included the moment the windigos beat them, and a bookend with the beginning. A bookend was actually in the original conception, but either I was dumb enough to not include it or too sleepy to remember. Really glad that the story could manage without it for now.
>>TitaniumDragon>>Exuno Not really sure what to add. Given the content and the wordcount, I can definitely see that side of the argument. Historical fiction and the like suffer from this a lot in my opinion, because as long as you know the event it's set during, you have a basic understanding of what'll happen. The same rings true for stories set during historical events in Equestria.
>>georg georg gave me a really positive review. I can die happy.
So, the basic idea of this was that it takes place right before the fires of friendship get lit. Pretty much every track, magic, weapons, armies, and so on have failed against the windigos, but despite all this, the three of them form up a team to try and kill them. Logically, conventional weapons fail and they promptly begin to get consumed by the winter. The general idea was that the windigos overwhelmed them, at least at the end of this scene, because they still could feed off of hatred (something that was definitely lost), and that when they're being consumed, the three of them just talk before they die. The rest is history.
Windigos, and monsters in general, are a fascinating topic to write about for me, mostly because I think that the truly terrifying ones are the ones that mirror us to a certain extent. That's the main reasons I ended up finding myself writing about the windigos. I think they represent something truly horrific in Equestria, a land that emphasizes trust, friendship and working together as one. The windigos are, in my opinion, the antithesis of said principle- a manifestation of the apathy and hatred the tribes had for one another.
The story itself has been a concept I've been toying with for ages, i.e. killing immortals. I considered doing this with Discord originally, but then realized that given that I had three, four hours at max, that'd require a lot more work-around with OCs and such than I had time to do. As such, I decided to make use of the show's resources, adapting an old tale and setting this story just before the conclusion of that tale, which allowed me to focus on emphasizing the sheer terror of the windigos' magic and winter.
>>Trick_Question The decisions for focusing mainly on those the windigoes had claimed vs the living was one that I toyed with for a little while, but at the end, I wanted to hammer home the sense of not many options being left. The basic idea was that the windigos' victory was nigh complete, and that's why things look so grim for Pansy, Clover and Cookie. As for side-canon and the like, I don't really have access to that kind of information, so I mostly just roll with what the show hands me, using whatever else I happen to stumble upon in my madness.
>>TheCyanRecluse>>FanOfMostEverything Glad you two liked it. Although I never really realized that this really qualified as 'classic fantasy' (although now I'm going to start doing so, because I love classic fantasy).
>>Baal Bunny I didn't realize that the story could be viewed as combat being what stopped the windigos until you pointed it out. I'll be honest, my basic concept was more along the lines of even violence failing, and then they just talk before they die, and that's what triggers the fire. My idea was to take the moment before the scene everyone knows, and try to tell a story how it would have been for them in the final minutes or so.
>>Ceffyl_Dwr>>Monokeras Blegh. Resolution. I knew I forgot something. Had I possessed another three hundred words (which, incidentally, is enough for this to hit Fimfic), I would have almost certainly included the moment the windigos beat them, and a bookend with the beginning. A bookend was actually in the original conception, but either I was dumb enough to not include it or too sleepy to remember. Really glad that the story could manage without it for now.
>>TitaniumDragon>>Exuno Not really sure what to add. Given the content and the wordcount, I can definitely see that side of the argument. Historical fiction and the like suffer from this a lot in my opinion, because as long as you know the event it's set during, you have a basic understanding of what'll happen. The same rings true for stories set during historical events in Equestria.
>>georg georg gave me a really positive review. I can die happy.