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Hi there,

We've now reached the end of the largest story contest we've ever run (1603 entries) and the winners and runners up have now been unveiled. Below you can read their stories and some feedback from some judges regarding their entries.

It wasn't easy to pick the winners. The standard of entries was incredibly high. If you didn't win this time, please don't be too disheartened. I'll be running another big story contest later this year. Maybe you're destined to win that one instead.

Happy gaming.

Mod Craddock

Author's Note: Zamorak speaks IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS, Guthix speaks in lowercase letters, and Saradomin speaks With Capital First Letters.
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Gods play games with the lives of men. Not chess--only two sides. Not poker--too many rules. No, gods prefer dice. It's fair, and there's always an opportunity to cheat.

In Gielinor, there are many gods and many games. But only three gods matter, and only one game decides the fate of the realm.

"MYSELF BLESS IT!" swore the god in red and black robes. His eyes were scarlet embers, and glistening horns protruded from the sides of his head.

"calm down zamorak," said the god on Zamorak's right. He was dressed in druidic robes and the only thing of note on his head was the lack of hair. "it's just a game."

"YOU WOULDN"T SAY THAT IF YOU HAD LOST."

"You Win Some, You Lose Some," replied the god on Zamorak's left. His long snow-white beard obscured part of his sky-blue robes. "Shall We Get On With The Game Then? I'd Like To Test My Rangers Against Your Army, Zamorak."

Zamorak snorted. "THEY'LL BE EASY TO DEFEAT."

"count me out for this round," Guthix said.

"VERY WELL. YOUR ROLL, SARADOMIN."

Saradomin picked up the dice and threw.

They landed on a triangular table, upon which a map of Gielinor lay. This was no ordinary map, for it was the same size as the land it detailed.

"Two Sixes And An Eight. That's My Barbarian To The Portal And Two Rangers To Yours."

Zamorak examined the three cubes. "CHEATER. THAT'S MY DOMAIN." He tossed the dice. "AHA. THREE NINES."

"Now Who's Cheating?" challenged Saradomin.

Their game was watched by several other beings of power.

"Oh, I love this part,� commented Iban. "Necromancers and their skeleton armies. Beat that Saradomin!"

"Astnhott'nwl?ohyunhaot," queried the Chaos Elemental.

"Of course it was an unholy throw! He's Zamorak, isn't he?" responded a dwarf god.

"...ossseugI," the elemental said doubtfully.

The dice thrown by Saradomin and Zamorak were cubes no longer. The battling gods threw glowing orbs that flickered red and blue as each tried to outmaneuver the other.

Oohs went up from the spectators as Zamorak rolled Complete Obliteration and destroyed Saradomin's remaining forces.

"AS I SAID. THEY WERE EASY TO DEFEAT," Zamorak said smugly.

"shall i play winner?" asked Guthix as Saradomin stalked angrily away. "i have some sea slugs i want to try out."

"YOU'RE ON. MY ROLL." Zamorak threw, and the games began anew as they have done for centuries.

Siin� makaa Olavi Kaarlonpoika, piesty.
N�il� taistelukentil� kunniavartios� saateltu.
Ol� h�nt� kyljest� rep�isty,
kuin riistael�int� raadeltu.

Ol� h�l� kokemusta, pahemmastakin selviydytty,
hengiss� aina taistoista k�vellyt pois.
Kuink� t�h�n ol� p��dytty?
Miten t�st� viel� Olavi selvit� vois�?

Peto suuri ja julma,
purrut, kynsinyt, kaik� tielt��n tappanut.
Tuo leijona ol� sotilaille surma,
mut� vertaisekseen Olavi itselleen katsonut.

Raskaan kirveen heilahdus,
osuman voima miehen murskais�.
Oli pedoltakin p��ssyt parahdus,
mut� edes tuo isku ei hengilt� sit� sais.

Vasten Olavia koko voimallaan heitt�ytyi,
miehen maahan painoi.
Kuolemaansa veteraanimmekin pel�styi,
vaik� pedon hetki� viimeisi� suullansa vannoi.

Pimeys, tuo sotilaalle yst�v� viimeisin,
ol� Olavin osakseen ottanut.
Pimeys, pehme�, tuskaa rauhoittavin,
ei sankarin henki kuitenkaan viel� kadonnut.

K�ytti toveri voimaa mustaa,
itse pimeytt�kin vahvempaa.
Huudahti vihulainen: �Katsokaa!�,
ei oltu n�hty Olavin ilmett� tuimempaa.

Punaisin silmin, paholaisen voimin,
ol� Olavi saanut mahdollisuuden toisen.
Barbaari, mies uskollinen Zamorakin,
elinvoimaa sai tappaen linnun lent�v�isen.

Pedon vuoro, kuolema,
t�m� olkoon Olavin kosto.
Takanansa koko pimeyden voima,
ei siihen vaadittu kuin yksi kirveen nosto.

Urho, sankari taistelun,
kotiansa ansaitusti kaipasi.
Kauniin vaimonsa tavoitellun,
syliin rauhaan halusi.

Kotonansa ei kuullut vaimonsa anelun,
hurmoksessaan, n�liss��n vain puraisi.
Sis�ll�ns� j��, veri vaimon poisti palelun.
Ilman rakastaan, mist� voimaa el�m��n h�n ker�isi?

Julmista julmin on mestari,
urheimpansakin uhreiksi heitt��.
Zamorakin nime� kantava petturi,
jos sill� omaa mahtiansa kehitt��.

Olavi, tuo lauluissa kehuttu,
vaimonsa tappaja, kirottu.
Ainiaaksi vaimo kadotettu,
muille voitto juhlittu.

Hostis

I circled the pinnacle of the fortress, gazing over the battlefield. The cold evening wind bit at my face; the Sun was hidden behind a veil of clouds, offering no succour. Beneath me, the thunderous drums of war matched my powerful wing-beats, yet the armies stood still with unfazed determination. My fellow Icyenes were resting on the ground, saving every bit of ardour for the battle. Keen eyes watched my every move with hatred; I was the Icyene who betrayed Saradomin.
I sought what Zaros embodied; The Empty Lord, nothingness itself, was what I believed in. Despite his influence, force was necessary to spread his views and fight back everyone�s desires. The other two gods had no goal, engaging in meaningless violence for the sake of control. After Zaros purged the world of their thirst for power, there would be nothing to stop his endeavour.
In everyone�s eyes, I was mad, a lunatic, for believing what I did. The most glorious and devout follower of Saradomin, corrupted by the evil of Zaros. It mattered not, however, that I warned Zaros of the approaching danger and joined him, for the battle was inevitable. I had lit the match, but the gods had spread the oil.
My fellow warriors bore no judgment in their hearts, a courtesy I could never expect from the opposing forces. A monstrous thirst for battle glazed their eyes, their mouths and claws twitching in anticipation of the order Zaros would give. A simple flick of the Zarosian General�s wrist, and the army�s battle cry shook the heavens. Emitting throat-splitting screeches, they bolted into the nightmare.
I stayed back and watched the horror unfold. Swords clashed with claws, arrows pierced acquiescent flesh, spells charred armour. This was not what I desired. I painfully observed Saradomin�s forces. Their lean, animal forms gracefully navigated the battlefield, fighting back our brutish forces. What was I now, by supporting the monsters on my side? Hate, and hated; cruelty, and cruel. Violence, evil, was not what I stood for.
Zaros watched from his temple, wearing a disturbingly blank expression. Why did he choose this as the route to peace? In that brief moment of clarity, I understood that he could not fulfill his ideal. The only ones fighting for a just cause were the blue-clad warriors resisting the evil. I dove into the battlefield, determined to help my true comrades bring peace.

Saradomin Slaat Toe

Proloog: De Overval

�Waarom nemen jullie niet de rest van de dag vrij?�
�Bedankt vader� zei Arthon terwijl hij het nieuw gemaakte zwaard aan de kant zette.
�Zin om een hapje te gaan eten in de herberg?�
�Is goed, ik zie je dadelijk zodra ik Alissa heb opgehaald.�
Getwee�n liepen ze de smidse uit en sloegen allebei een andere richting in.

Glimlachend liep Arthon door de straat, hij had helemaal geen honger, Arthon wilde alleen maar naar de herberg om Lertisa te zien, de dochter van de herbergier. Logram vermoedde het waarschijnlijk wel maar had daar niets over gezegd omdat vader erbij stond dacht Arthon, vanavond was Arthon van plan naar haar toe te stappen aangezien hij via zijn nicht te weten is gekomen dat Lertisa ook een oogje op hem had.

Plots klonk er vanuit het midden van de stad een heldere hoornstoot op. Verontrust keek Arthon op, in de verte was een donkere pluim rook te zien, in de richting van de poort, scherp afgetekend tegen de blauwe hemel. Logram was dezelfde richting ingegaan. Met ingespannen ogen keek hij naar de donkere pluim rook, alsof hij op die manier erachter kon komen wat de oorzaak ervan was.
Arthon wilde net richting de donkere pluim rook rennen toen hij vlak daar in de buurt een knal hoorde. "Bij alle goden!" schreeuwde Arthon, een demon, hier!? Er verscheen een reusachtige demon uit de pluim rook en begon alle huizen te verpletteren, langs hem snelde er een eenheid paladijnen richting de demon. Arthon rende achter hun aan maar werd tegen gehouden door een van hen, "ga naar het zuiderkwartier en blijf daar" zei de paladijn. "Nee! Ik moet weten of alles in orde is met mijn broer!" Schreeuwde Arthon tegen de paladijn. Opeens voelde Arthon een hand op zijn schouder en hoorde zacht onverstaanbaar gefluister in zijn hoofd, alles werd zwart voor zijn ogen.

Arthon stond kuchend op, hij rook de stank van verbrand vlees en hout en toen hij naar de richting keek waar hij de demon had gezien zag hij dat het noorderkwartier totaal was verwoest op een aantal gebouwen na. Opeens kwam er een monnik naar hem toe gerend. "Wat is er gebeurd?" Vroeg Arthon.
"Het noorderkwartier van de stad is verwoest, er zijn tientallen gewonden en doden, er zijn zelfs een aantal inwoners meegenomen door het vijandelijke leger, meer weten we niet."

Wordt vervolgd...