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Author Topic: Tales of New Scots: The Witches of Dorchev (May scare children under 13)  (Read 683 times)
ClockworkLi
Swab

United States United States


Time is your worst enemy...and my greatest friend.


« on: May 15, 2014, 05:10:09 am »

Written by Li, the Clockwork Captain.

Authors Note: This may be the first story released, but just remember, not all tales of New Scots are going to be Tragedies. If you have children under 13 who are easily scared, then read and decide yourself, but there are no bad words in this story and no nudity. If your child gets scared by this story, don't say I didn't give a warning. This story is based off the end time prophecies of the book of Revelations found in the New Testament bible. Other than English, there is Bulgarian and Georgian text (written in the Latin Alphabet). If there are any mistakes in translations, please send me a message so I may fix them. Thank you. Enjoy the Dark Tragedy, "Tales of New Scots: The Witches of Dorchev," original story by the Clockwork Captain.

   In the center of town in the dead of night, a crowd was gathered, torches in hand, people shouting loudly “Burn the witch!”, “Send her back to hell!” and “Free the people!” There was a woman tied to a post in the center of town; black, ragged, curly hair sticking out everywhere. She wore black robes and a red pendant around her neck. Struggling wildly, she spits at the towns folk and laughs insanely. A man in a white mining shirt and leather cargo’s held up by a brown belt with a large silver buckle stood onto the platform with a lit torch. Turning out to the crowd he shouts “Tishina!” and the crowds grew silent. A silence was swept all across as the moon shows itself over the distant mountains near Jacksons. Finally, the man breaks the silence and says “This woman has committed great deeds of evil, to both man and God! She has murdered innocent children, bathed in their blood and brought forth demons to our peaceful town. Her and all the other witches in Cherno Kŭshta will pay for their crimes against Dorchev. Da zhivee bog dal!” He raises his torch into the air and the crowds grew wild again. Turning to the woman, he asks “Do you have any final words before you are burnt, veshtitsa?”

“I have but one thing to say.” She turns her head to the crowd and says “If any of you have a message for the devil, tell me now, for I will be meeting him soon!” The woman then looks to the sky and shouts “Gaumarjos Lucifer!” The crowds grew restless and begin shouting her down. When the fires were lit, she lets out a shrieking, evil laugh as the fires burnt her clothes and hair. When it reached her skin, she let out shouts of pain, but with each shout were cries of ecstasy and pleasure. She continued to shout until her final breath was released. They took her remains and threw them outside the town, into the river where it floated down stream. The crowds cheered, knowing that they have gotten rid of one great evil. But they would not be satisfied, as there were still other witches of her cult. Each man went home holding close their wives and the few children left in town, restless with the thought of what the other witches would do to them for killing one of their own.

The next morning, a woman was heard screaming. Women stayed inside and held their kids close, and those without children, held their husbands as the other men ran to the house where the screams came from. A woman lay crying on the floor, in the middle of a blood soaked pentagram, holding a mutilated child. The men ran and picked her up, making her leave the child on the ground. The man who held her, a burly, bald man, asked “Ivana, what happened?” Through her crying, she spoke “It was veshtitsa! They came and murdered my child. I tried to stop them, but I was too late, and they escaped.” She plants her face into his chest and continues to cry. The man from last night stood on a box on the side of the house and said “You see? These witches do not care about us! They care not how many of our children die, or how many of our women suffer. We must burn Cherno Kŭshta to the ground! The longer we wait, the more children will be murdered!” The people rally in a loud cheer and rush around grabbing all that they can and lighting torches. They begin up the hill, seeing a talk dark oak house that looks as though it has been unkempt for over a century. The crowd stopped in front of the rotting building and people began splashing kerosene on the porch and all over the walls. People ran to the four sides as they continued covering the molding wood with kerosene, making sure to get all sides of the house. Once the house was covered, the fiery torches were thrown in and onto the house, setting off an inferno that could be seen as far as Hymnville. The people cheered as the fires raged.

Once the house was burnt down and the wood and metal cooled down, they searched the rubble to find the bones, and what they discovered were skeletons, too small to have been the witches’ bones. They all looked at the bones terrified, for they knew these were the bones of the missing children whose bodies had not turned up. Some men said these kids were still alive, and that they had heard screaming during the fire. Others stated that anyone who goes into Cherno Kŭshta never enter alive.

The next day, another woman lost her child, in the same way as Ivana. This happened two other times within the month. Rumors began to spread that the ghosts of the witches were haunting the town and killing children. A priest from North Bellmarsh was brought in to bless the town. The priest was a tall rugged man with long dark brown hair held in a bun and small round spectacles. His side burns made his stocky facial features stand out all the more. He wore a large smile as if saying “everything will be just fine.” His black robe stopped a little below the knees, where his boots started. A rather large silver cross hung from his neck and he held a black bible with silver lettering and gold lining the pages. Men opened the central building doors for him as he walked up. When he entered, the Dadena ot Bog ran to him and fell to his face shouting “Bog da se smili! Bog da se smili! You must help us, priest!” He knelt down and placed a hand on his shoulder and said “I am no one special, I only do His work. Now tell me, what is happening?”

As the Dadena ot Bog told him about what has happened, the priest shook his head and told him “Do not worry, child. As long as your people remain faithful, this will end. But I sense that fear, hatred and doubt have plagued your people. They live in fear and hatred rather than love and kindness. I shall hold a service this Sunday, but you must tell your people to fast all day on the Sabbath. If anyone takes one bite of food, one drink of water, one drop of medicine that day, banish them from the town. After Sunday, it is all up to you.” The Dadena ot Bog was terrified of this news, but attempted to keep it from being shown on his face. He did not want the weight of the town's fate on his shoulders, but he knew he had to.

On Friday, the Dadena ot Bog announced to the people what the priest had told him. The people chatted amongst themselves, many in angst that they had to give up on their food, others worried about the sick that would go without their needed medicine for that day. On Sabbath day, many stayed at the church to pray. Around 23 men, women and children were banished that day,  17 more left the town with their families. The Dadena ot Bog was saddened about this but kept a strong upper lip for his people.

It was Sunday when the priest walked into the church. The people reached out to him to touch his robes. As he stood behind the alter, he has a radiant smile aimed towards all there. When the people quieted down, he spoke “Children of God, thank you for being here today. Dark times have fallen upon your town; the maidens of the devil have not been destroyed, they live among you, but that is not the worst part here. Those who are faithful are few in numbers.” He looks at the people as they chatter amongst each other “You will not win this war with your lack of faith. If there is any lack of faith amongst you, the disaster shall spread. Many shall fall away if even one of you is without faith. The witches will go for the unfaithful first, and like an epidemic, it shall spread. Each life it takes, others will lose faith. Be vigilant, children of God.” With this the people’s chatter became louder. The priest continued on with his sermon all day until the night fell upon them. He stayed to pray for people who stayed behind. As the night went one, people left the church one by one, till the priest was all that was left with the Dadena ot Bog. The priest looked to him and said “Friend, I must leave before the sun rises or I will be in danger and all the people will be in doubt.” The Dadena ot Bog stopped him as he began walking out and asked “What is your name?” The priest turned to him and said “I am Timothy McDonald,” he replied, and then urged him “Tell no one my name.” The Dadena ot Bog nodded and the priest walked out. He left the town the same way he entered.

The next few days were calm, no deaths and no trouble had come. The people began to believe that they were safe. Then, on a Sunday afternoon, they noticed some of the homeless men were missing. The fear began to come back, they wondered what happened. No bodies were found which made them fear the witches might be back. After a month, more than half the men in the village were missing. The man who burned the witch called together the town for a town meeting. When the town got there, the man spoke, saying “People! It is obvious to me that God has abandoned us. A priest had come in, but still the witches are here. It’s up to us to take matters into our own hands!” The people shouted out to him, some cursing him, others praising him, others stayed silent in contemplation. The Dadena ot Bog pushed himself through the crowds up to the front and said “Tishina! Tishina! It is because of your lack of faith that you are being swayed to believe this. The priest said that if any of us lacks faith, the rest may suffer!”

“Our men are disappearing, men of faith even!” one man stated. “What God would let the faithful suffer?” shouted another. The Dadena ot Bog shook his head and told them “We must keep the faith, without it, we are nothing!” A burly red haired man came up and said “I believe we are in need of a new leader, one who can get things done! Rather than a priest choosing the next leader, we shall choose ourselves.” The Dadena ot Bog looked at the cheering crowds and hung his head in shame “You people have fallen so far as to forsake your faith, forsake your God, and forsake your own lives. If you wish me to leave, I shall be gone by morning.” He walks off back towards his house and the man in front of the crowd proclaimed “The leader should not be just wise, but strong as well. Any man who believes he is the strongest, step forward!” Four men stepped up, each of a strong build. One was a bald man with a Winfield mustache, who had comforted Ivana when she lost her child, named Ludmil. Another was the smallest of the bunch with a handlebar mustache and rather unkempt hair named Dragomir. The third was a tall fit built man with a shaved head and face named Todor. The fourth was of the largest build of them all, with a mutton chop beard and balding red hair on his head, the man who suggested the need for a new leader, named Vladimir. The man said “You four will fight tonight, the last one left standing shall be our leader.”

That night, the men were crowding the bar, tables moved to the sides and bottles taken out of hands reach. In each corner stood the four men, enticing the crowd to cheer for them. The crowds grew loud and restless as the men prepared to brawl. A middle aged man with a long beard stepped into the center and said to the four men “We are here to find our leader, not to kill each other. In the end, all four of you must be alive. Biĭte se!” With this, he went back into the crowds and the cheering grew louder as the men circled each other. Not long after the start of the fight did the first punch swing by Ludmil, knocking Dragomir to the ground. Dragomir quickly recovered from the blow, standing to his feet and punching Ludmil. Todor grabbed both of them by the neck and hit their heads together and while he laughed at this, Vladimir grabbed him from behind and began punching his side. Ludmil punched Todor in the gut, bringing him to the ground, curled up in pain. Vladimir swung a punch at Ludmil, but Dragomir hit him first, stopping his punch. As Dragomir was on top of Vladimir swinging and punching, Ludmil grabs him by the waist and throws him towards the crowds where he gets knocked out. All that was left were Ludmil and Vladimir who were circling each other in a stare down. “What’s the matter,” said Vladimir. “Too scared to come for me?” At this, Ludmil swung out a hit. He missed and Vladimir grabbed his arm and broke it on his knee. Ludmil let out a loud scream as he fell to the ground. The man came back out and lifted Vladimir’s arm “Looks like we have our new leader! Slava na Tsarya!” The people cheered loudly, while the town doctor was taking care of Ludmil’s arm.

At midnight, the Dadena ot Bog began leaving the town. He met with Vladimir, the new Tsar, who had been waiting for him. Vladimir stopped him and said “It’s polite to bow to the Tsar before leaving his presence. Now bow before me.” The Dadena ot Bog was angered and said “I am Bog izbral. I bow to none but Ĭekhova.” He attempted to go around Vladimir, but he stopped him there as well “You may be Bog izbral, but I am Khora izbrat. Now bow to me, cherveĭ.” The Dadena ot Bog shook his head and then Vladimir punches him in the stomach, and as he was bending over in pain, Vladimir forces him on the ground with his foot. “There,” he said. “Was that so difficult?” Vladimir spit on him and said “Enjoy your worthless life. I will be here and the town shall name me Geroĭ.” Vladimir walks away, leaving the Dadena ot Bog curled in pain on the ground.

Day after day, men went missing. No one could figure out where they went. One day, some women came together with Ivana and drew a circle on the ground. They chanted an incantation to bring their husbands and children back. All of them chanted “Ts’ets’khli siskhlis, t’ikhis khorts’i, rat’a daibrunos vints’ ch’ven gviqvars.” At that, the circle glowed a brilliant red and the men and children they lost began to rise from the circle in front of them. As more men and children went disappearing, more and more women did this until all the men and children were those that have been raised from the dead.

Four of the women, those whose children were mutilated in their houses, called together the town one day to share some news. When the town had arrived, they were standing with black robes and red pendants and told them “It is time for you to know the truth. The witches did not kill the men and women in town. There has been a war going on since the beginning of time, and men like the priest who came months before, they are the deceivers! Iehovas is the god of evil and deception, not of peace and love. His priests are sent to trick you; they are taught by Iehovas himself to deceive.” The people chattered amongst themselves, confused on what they meant. The women tore off the skin from their faces, and hair from their heads, and continued in saying “We are apostles of Eshmaki. By His power, we saved your people before their souls were lost forever. We gave you back your loved ones. Now, you must follow Eshmaki and go spread His good news. He is your savior, Iehovas is your enemy. Rise up! And together we shall put an end to his trickery!” The people cheered, the witches grinned, and the town grabbed all bibles in town and threw them into the church. They bound and gagged the towns’ priest, and those who refused join them, and put them into the church. Grabbing kerosene, they poured it all over those they tied up and splashed it all around the building, and lit it on fire. The fire raged all night, and the townsfolk cheered and danced. They held a festival in honor of the witches.

One morning, while they town still slept, the witches came together and poured alchemical ingredients together, making a glowing green liquid. They stood around the black iron cauldron and chanted “K’alak’ aris ch’veni sat’amasho qut’i, khalkhi ch’veni sat’amashoebi.” and the green liquid turned into steam and flowed out of the house, covering the town. As they continued to chant, the steam entered the houses of the town and covered the people. When the people awoke that morning, they looked as though they were the dead, as though they were lifeless corpses being controlled by invisible strings. The witches lead the people in all they did within the town, teaching them to work with machinery, building weapons and steam engines; building steam tanks, automobiles, and the like.

“This is the story of Dorchev, New Scots. A tragedy. A town that was once full of peace became the puppets, and the puppet masters were the witches. The moral of the story is ‘never lose faith, otherwise it may be the downfall of all you know.’”
- The Clockwork Captain
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Yours truly,
            - The Clockwork Captain
CPT_J_Percell
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Zeppelin Captain
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England England


The werewolf Airship Captain.


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« Reply #1 on: May 17, 2014, 11:13:35 am »

Most defiantly an interesting story but is in need of proof reading and editing.
There are a lot of "Tense Slip" words used throughout that need correcting.
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ClockworkLi
Swab

United States United States


Time is your worst enemy...and my greatest friend.


« Reply #2 on: May 17, 2014, 06:50:57 pm »

I looked it over multiple times and had some teachers read it before I turned it into English class. What did you notice in it? o:
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CPT_J_Percell
Board Moderator
Zeppelin Captain
**
England England


The werewolf Airship Captain.


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« Reply #3 on: May 17, 2014, 08:55:02 pm »

Some of the following is just to help fix the flow where the sentence structure stutters.

1, Cargo's as the name of an item of clothing, has no place in a period piece like this.
2, Turning out should be Turning to the crowds
3,  A silence was swept all across as the moon shows itself over the distant mountains near Jacksons should be - A silence swept across the gathering as the moon shows itself over the distant mountains near Jacksons...
4, What is Jacksons? - Is it Jacksonville or the town of Jacksons?
5, Finally, the man breaks the silence - Drop the words between Silance and the speech!
6, If I remember the salem with trials the speech would have gone (This daemon masquerading as a woman has violated the laws of our god and committed great sins agains him and his children.)
7, Killed not murdered. Murdered has a slightly different meaning in the context of this story.
8, (Not really a problem as I understand its a lingual thing but.....) Da zhivee bog dal
9, He shouts as he raising his torch into the sky causing the crowds to grow wild with excitement.
10,  She turns her head to the crowd and says drop the second "says" as it causes the sentence to trip
11, Again lingual thing here, What is "Gaumarjos Lucifer!” as trying to work out what this means is interrupting the story.
12, Gaumarjos Lucifer!” causing the already agitated crowds to scream and shout, blocking out her words.
13, When the fires were lit, she lets out a shrieking,  change this to  - He plunges his burning torch into the pure around her igniting the dry timbers, as the wood splits and sparks from the heat, she lets out a shrieking, evil laugh...

Your spellings are fine but even for US EN some of the words that you have chosen just don't fit in. This may come over as rude and you may feel like telling me to F***off but If I didn't like the story, I would not have taken the time to reply.
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ClockworkLi
Swab

United States United States


Time is your worst enemy...and my greatest friend.


« Reply #4 on: May 18, 2014, 10:51:41 pm »

I'll comment each one in order...

1, what should I say there? Maybe trousers?
2, alright
3, I'll try that out Smiley
4, The "Tales of New Scots" is a collection of stories about New Scots, Jacksons being one of the towns in this fantasy land
5, alright
6, not based on the Salem Witch Trials in any way, didn't even think about the trials when writing this
7, in their eyes, would they not see it as murder?
8, means Hail the God-Given in Bulgarian
9, I'll try that out
10, okay
11, means Praise Lucifer in Georgian
12, kk
13, alright

I appreciate all your input and hope you follow my stories as I post them Smiley
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CPT_J_Percell
Board Moderator
Zeppelin Captain
**
England England


The werewolf Airship Captain.


WWW
« Reply #5 on: May 19, 2014, 06:23:58 am »

I'll comment each one in order...

1, what should I say there? Maybe trousers?
As an english speaker I have to say yes.

2, alright
3, I'll try that out Smiley
4, The "Tales of New Scots" is a collection of stories about New Scots, Jacksons being one of the towns in this fantasy land
5, alright
6, not based on the Salem Witch Trials in any way, didn't even think about the trials when writing this
7, in their eyes, would they not see it as murder?
8, means Hail the God-Given in Bulgarian
9, I'll try that out
10, okay
11, means Praise Lucifer in Georgian
12, kk
13, alright

I appreciate all your input and hope you follow my stories as I post them Smiley

Point 7 will always be a tricky point as murder could be considered a term used by the rational but your people arn currently anything but.

Thanks for the translations, Maybe you would like to consider keeping it all in english.
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ClockworkLi
Swab

United States United States


Time is your worst enemy...and my greatest friend.


« Reply #6 on: May 28, 2014, 06:00:37 am »

Well I guess we have some cultural differences as well haha. By the way, I'm working on the next "Tales of New Scots" story. If you liked this tragedy, you may like this one "Tales of New Scots: Isabelle Perril" . It's a Thriller, borderline horror story about a doll...I will stop talking now before I give away what will happen Grin I hope you give your feedback on that as well and see how much I improve/get worse(lol) on my storytelling!
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CPT_J_Percell
Board Moderator
Zeppelin Captain
**
England England


The werewolf Airship Captain.


WWW
« Reply #7 on: May 28, 2014, 08:26:47 pm »

Well I guess we have some cultural differences as well haha. By the way, I'm working on the next "Tales of New Scots" story. If you liked this tragedy, you may like this one "Tales of New Scots: Isabelle Perril" . It's a Thriller, borderline horror story about a doll...I will stop talking now before I give away what will happen Grin I hope you give your feedback on that as well and see how much I improve/get worse(lol) on my storytelling!

Have you to a web site of blog?
Yes Need more input!
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ClockworkLi
Swab

United States United States


Time is your worst enemy...and my greatest friend.


« Reply #8 on: May 29, 2014, 01:11:54 am »

I have no blog set up for my stories as of yet.
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