Wepet Renpet- Writing Competition

[Dragonian Alliance]

Greetings my Fellow Osirans. We are short of proper creative writings to submit to the gods of Osiris, the region. Please help us by submitting a short story, poem or similar here, so that might fix this travesty.

[Cretanja]

I submitted this to Caerchella 2022, but it didn’t win or anything - so, I think it should be fine to submit it here also:

Owly May, Finds A Way To Fit In
https://www.nationstates.net/page=dispatch/id=1731891

[Skar Quilor]

I too submitted this before but didn’t win anything because I was the last to submit something.

Here we go

Of The Owl and The Vulture
https://www.nationstates.net/page=dispatch/id=1733429

Thank you <3 ~

[Durm]

Screenshot_42.png (16.34 KiB) Viewed 201 times

The desert expands...

This region writing contest has been raided by the Sekhmet Legion.

Your cookies and milk have been stolen, and the region contest is now full of sand and scarabs.

Legionnaires:
Ra'id Athatrondeasia (trigger)

THE SEKHMET LEGION. Promoting desertification since 2013!

[Maadi]

A poem I wrote! I’ll put in a dispatch on-site later too.

A Newcomer/Osiris’s Riches

I have heard many floods,
but tasted few bounties.
Yesterday, my life ended in darkness,
but today, my life rises with the sun,

and I step,
one, two, many more,
upon an unkind shore,
expecting mortal threats,
having made many bets,
only to find rats, well-kept.

They squeak in friendliest tones
and assure me from lamenting moans,
as countless servants heed a call
and I know
this year’s bounty
shall not be all.

[Tethys 13]

Serpent, Dragon and Snail

When the summons came, Teth Uranaiasspawn was on the riverbed of the Nile, surrounded by spreads of food for the guests of the Wepet Renpet festival. Festivities had started somewhat shakily, involving a mild confrontation with a friendly and dutiful golem, but had improved once the food had been shared around. There were now a number of guests in the specialised air-pockets for the underwater feast, but only one other received the signal that now flashed insistently on the inner wall of the open glass sphere at the centre of Teth’s mobile pod. Teth’s gastropodal form shifted uncomfortably amidst the Kelpful fronds at the base of the pod, their eye-stalks roving blurrily over to the other recipient. Breathing the water as easily as air, he floated gently, his black silver-trimmed robe flowing around his body as his unkempt black hair flowed around his alabaster-skinned face with its empty eye sockets that nevertheless turned to meet Teth’s gaze. This was Mikhail Z Antares, The Arcane Hand, The Dark Lord, He Who Sees, the King in Black, leader of the Dragonian Alliance and fellow Guardian of Osiris. It was as Guardians that they were being summoned.
“Lord Antares?” Teth prompted, the speakers mounted on their pod translating their thought messages.
“I know,” Mikhail replied, his apathetic, empty gaze sweeping across the assembled Osirans, lingering momentarily on some of the local crocodiles nearby who had the presence of instinct to flee in terror. “Well, let us go.”

“So, I admit, this is my first time receiving this particular summons as Guardian,” Mikhail said as they approached the entrance to Mount Bakhu, and the route that would take them to the Tenth Region of the Night.
“And mine, since becoming Ambassador,” Teth replied.
“Ah yes. What happened to your predecessor?”
“Well… this.” Indeed, since their nation had been appointed as a Guardian of Osiris, several Ambassadors had fallen in this duty.
“I see. So, what can we expect?”
“Apep, also known as Apophis, the Great Serpent, nightly attempts to devour the Sun Barge as it travels through the Realms of Night,” Teth began to explain, reciting information from their database. “To allow the Gods to rest, sometimes Guardians of Osiris are expected to cover for them.”
“Typical,” Mikhail muttered, and Teth recalled that while the Dragonian Alliance was quite religious, they did not have the highest opinion of divinities. “Anything else?”
“I have perused a collection of reports from previous engagements, and one of my predecessors crafted a tactical guide. I can run you through the details.” Teth hesitated then, feeling a shift in the Autobiography safely nestled within its shell. Suddenly its senses were keener, and the structural integrity of its pod increased by one thousand percent. Its Setting Assimilation was preparing it to be able to survive the coming encounter, and if it was by this extent, it would be a terrible one indeed. They looked up as the ancient door within the mountain opened ahead of them. Steeling themselves, Teth entered, Mikhail alongside. After some time through winding tunnels, they came to a massive cavern, stalagmites and stalactites dotting the ceiling and floor, the latter of which was split by a massive waterway that led from a lightless void at one end of the cave to another opposite.
“So, the guide?” Mikhail reminded.
“Ah, yes,” Teth jolted alert. “It goes like this…”

First came the roar. It shook the cavern, shook the world, bellowing out from the dark. Even Mikhail flinched, and Teth retreated into their shell as their pod’s audio receivers momentarily shorted out. Then, the gargantuan creature began to emerge from the water and stygian depths beyond. Its scales were black diamond, its serpentine form three metres in diameter and vanishing for an unknowable length into the darkness. Crocodilian forelimbs hauled it closer, as its forked tongue tasted the air. It turned to focus on the two figures on the bank. Teth’s pod underwent combat shift immediately, armour closing around the glass like a knight’s helm as massive mechanical arms unfolded impossibly from the sides and erasure turrets rose from the hull. The transformation took less than a second, but still the creature was faster. It lunged with impossible speed for its size, and was met by a telekinetic wall of force.
“Down,” the Dark Lord of the Dragonian Alliance commanded, and the giant head slammed into the ground before him. He spat on its snout, and its eyes flared with rage. Slowly, the head began to raise, its power overwhelming even Mikhail’s arcane might. Its maw opened, fangs gleaming, and Mikhail felt a tug at his robe. His feet began to skid as he was pulled towards that vast opening. Apep was the devourer of the sun, and within its throat was a singularity. A building whine turned to a shriek as Teth shot forward, seizing the upper jaw in both robotic gauntlets, convenium engine burning at maximum yield. Mikhail was freed from the gravitational pull as Apep was yanked away, its body contorting as its head was hauled back and slammed into the cavern’s far wall, before being dragged across the stone. Then it halted suddenly, its claws digging into the stone and resisting the howling strength of the pod’s engines. Its tongue lashed out, seeking to ensnare the comparatively small contraption and draw it towards its bared fangs. With a pulse of smoke, Mikhail was above it. Empowered by arcane might, he slammed his left foot down onto Apep’s skull. The whole body shook from the impact, and the freed Teth sped away. However, a few cracked scales were the only injury the creature had yet sustained. It turned, and Mikhail teleported again, trying to gain distance. Its tongue flicked the air, and the instant he reappeared, he was seized in its monstrous claws and slammed into the ground of the far bank. He fed more power into his physical enhancement, but it was like holding back a planet, and even his reinforced spine began to feel the strain. The shriek of Teth’s engine built again, and a moment later was joined by Apep’s own howl of pain as a needle-sharp quillance punched into its wrist. Mikhail took the opportunity to escape as Teth attempted to drive the lance deeper, but with a mere flex of tendons Apep shattered the weapon, and Teth hurriedly backed away again.
“Are you alright?” Teth asked, and Mikhail smiled grimly, unable to hide a moment’s wistfulness at how long it had been since any had dared ask him such a question.
“Fine,” he replied, then noticed that his silver dragonplate cuirass was crumpled, having scarcely withstood the crushing force of Apep’s grip. His jaw set into an irritated scowl as more of the creature emerged from the water, coiling as high as the cavern roof as it watched them. There was wariness now, on both sides. Mikhail ignited his sabre, and the creature hissed in hatred of the light. There was an undertone to it, and Teth noticed that while they had damaged its wrist, instead of blood, slithering serpents oozed from the wound. The moment of distraction was almost fatal. In an instant, Teth’s pod was driven into the ground as colossal fangs punctured the hull, one crazing the glass of the aquatic sphere at the centre as it punched through the many layers of armour with ease, the other scraping off the Star Pumice inlaid into Teth’s gauntlet. Mechanical arms straining against the closing jaws, Teth fired their erasure turrets, but even chunks of its flesh disintegrating under the white beams could not drive it back, and Teth could feel the immense pull of its dark gullet. Then, with a flash of superheated plasma, Mikhail’s blade carved through the fang pressing against the glass of the pod. Apep reared back, venom pumping from the severed fang in a torrent. A moment later, and that venom would have instead been polluting the water around Teth. One glance at the dark smear on the cracked but unpierced glass was enough for them to realise how close death had been. Rallying, Teth plucked a quill from their ornamental shield and a new quillance formed in their hand.
“Thank you,” they burbled.
“Of course,” Mikhail replied, telekinetically pulling the rest of the fang free and glancing at the weapon Teth had created. “Nice idea,” he added, and soared upwards as Teth hurriedly strafed, both avoiding Apep’s claws by milliseconds. Teth darted around, their pod still at near-peak functionality, but burning through fuel at an extreme rate. They swerved around a claw strike and thrust forwards, piercing Apep’s underbelly with the quillance. They immediately released the weapon and reversed momentum, erasure turrets blazing, as a flood of snakes vomited from the wound. Most fell away or were destroyed, but a few latched onto the hull or slithered in through the rents left by Apep’s fangs. Propelling away, Teth activated their pod’s point-defence shock generator, electrocuting the serpentine infiltrators. Doing so drew power away from the engines, however, and Apep’s now single-fanged maw darted down to capitalise. That was when Mikhail struck. He had not been idle while Teth had been drawing the monster’s attention. Severing a ten-metre stalactite of the cavern’s eon-old stone, he had tipped it with Apep’s fang as a makeshift lance of his own. He drove it into Apep’s back with the full power of his arcane and cybernetically enhanced physical might. The entire fang sunk into its body, along with half a metre of the stone haft. He threw his telekinetic power against it to drive it deeper, leaping away as the serpents surged from the wound towards him. Then, he exerted his will on the stone. This cavern was created to hold Apep at bay, and that power suffused the stalactite. Apep’s body locked into immobility, held paralysed and helpless, but not for long. Mikhail felt sweat building on his white skin and dripping past his empty eye sockets, and the stalactite began to creak and crack at the conflict of the two unstoppable forces. A partially-jammed slot on Teth’s flank half-opened and they drew the Sunken Ciquedea, perhaps the greatest weapon in all of Tethys 13, its surface intricately engraved with scenes of the nation’s history. The stalactite fractured further, and as Teth rushed forwards, Apep lurched into momentary motion and expelled a toxic fume from its mouth. Teth’s armour began to corrode upon its touch, but then the mushroom-shaped pommel of their blade glowed, and a miasma of spores repelled the caustic cloud. Teth aimed the knife, and the prongs of the guard glowed for a moment before blasting an array of laser beams that bored into the scales of Apep’s throat. As Teth closed the last distance, the fist and cracked planet icon at the blade’s tang lit up, energy coursing down to the tip. The force of the blade as it sank into the monster’s damaged neck was an echo of the blow that had shattered the planet of Tethys 13. The cavern shook once more, a shockwave that parted the water and splashed it a dozen metres high against either wall, and Teth could sense the sentience within the blade was pleased. However, the impact also obliterated the last of the impaling stalactite. The gurgling hiss that emerged from Apep’s ruined throat was far worse than any world-shaking roar. The serpents pouring from its wounds rose to shroud it like a cloak, thousands upon thousands of eyes gleaming in the darkness. The crashing waters froze, not to ice, but to timeless stillness. Mikhail sensed the magic and countered with his own, while the inscriptions of the Armada across the blade of the Sunken Cinquedea flared and freed Teth from the power’s clutches, but too late as serpent-wreathed claws seized them both.
“Maddening beings,” Apep spoke in a voice of primordial nightmare, “You think to impede me? I am Apep, Apophis, the Lord of Chaos, World-Encircler, Evil Dragon, Earthquake-Bringer, Storm-Maker. I have existed since the first dawn, and will exist when all dawns have ended. What are you, slug, coward, hidden within shell within shell within shell?” Teth could not help but quail at the words, which seemed to shake within their mind and expose their every fear. It was a relief akin to a breath on the verge of drowning when the attention finally shifted. “And you, blind man, whose mortal life has been stretched by circuits and magic. You think to reach beyond your place, but that realm will ever be closed to you! I have fought true gods, my brethren, and you are a poor imitation. What are you really, false god? False dragon? What about you is true?”
“I could list my titles,” Mikhail wheezed, “but I think they would be wasted on you. I am Mikhail Z Antares. I am Valheru. I am Guardian, and of the two of us, I am the truer dragon.” He inhaled, his throat beginning to glow, and breathed a cascade of flame across the creature. It shrieked in countless voices as its shroud of serpents was scoured away. Teth ignited their knuckle-mounted Candleblades, carving through the claws around their pod and propelling themself away as time returned and Apep retreated, howling, into the darkness.
“Know this well, Guardians,” its voice lingered even as it disappeared. “I cannot be destroyed. I shall always return, and you cannot stop me forever.” Then even that faded, and Teth and Mikhail were left amidst the settling waters of the cavern.

A short time later, the golden barge of the sun emerged, and they watched it on its way.
“Good work,” Teth said, for lack of anything better.
“Thank you,” Mikhail replied, idly chewing on a thoroughly flame-cooked snake. “My apologies, I got in the repartee first back there, I am sure you had something to say to it as well.”
“That is fine,” Teth replied, deactivating combat shift. The retraction of the damaged armour jostled the cracked glass of the pod, which began to leak a few drops of water. “I can say it next time.”