Winner of the 3rd place in the 2014 Literature Competition

Two burly men pulled a ramshackle farm cart over the muddy soil, its wheels creaking every few seconds. A moldering pile of corpses strained against the confines of the cart, nearly teetering onto the ground. An older man wearing the tattered vestments of a cleric of Morr was striking a slightly bent fire poker against an upended cooking pot. ‘Bring out your dead!', he said after every clang of his improvised bell. 

It's that special time of the year again, let the celebrations begin! We're officially celebrating our ninth anniversary. Slowly, but steadily the Round Table is approaching its anniversary number 10! Hopefully, we will see a new army book much before that. Read the articles below for information about this year's competitions:

• Anniversary Painting Competition
• Anniversary Literature Competition

Update: the deadlines for both competitions have been extended until December 8th!

 Winner of the 1st place in the 2013 Literature Competition

So It Begins.

Flickering lamplight cast it's meagre illumination throughout the interior of the humble room, creating rippling shadows that trembled across the yellowing walls. The oil in the brass clad lamp was near gone, forcing the wick to sputter and filled the small peasant hovel with the acrid stench of it's burning. The watcher however, paid it no heed. A part of him unconsciously knowing that somehow the guttering flame would last long enough for the passing to take place. 

 Winner of the 2nd place in the 2013 Literature Competition

The Memoirs of Willem Malchanceux - Peasant Rebellion

The seventh errantry war, declared three years ago, had been crumbling like the solitary statues found rearing out of the dunes. Nearly one-hundred autumns ago, Mathieu Droitcoeur had begun a foolish Errantry War following a winding path through the deserts of Khemri; the same path as the one his descendant Louis Droitcoeur intended to follow now, however Sir Mathieu had failed to return from his crusade and if not for the suckling babe left in his diminished chateau his proud lineage may have ended that day.