It's not too long ago that the 
Winter Contest we were hosting over at 
ended and the winners were announced. In this journal I will be featuring the winning entries, along with the artists and a selected number of their artwork. 
Winter Contest we were hosting over at ended and the winners were announced. In this journal I will be featuring the winning entries, along with the artists and a selected number of their artwork. 
Winners
The Winner of the "Visual" category Award
is
(with her entry "And we talked all night")
The Runner-Up of the "Visual" category Award
is
The Winner of the Literature category Award
is
dagoth-jeff
The Runner-Up of the Literature category Award
is
The Winner of the "People's Choice Award"
is
Before I start with the features I wanted to thank again all the participants of the contest.
Without their creativity our first ever contest would have failed and our hopes for a series of contests after that would have vanished!
Without their creativity our first ever contest would have failed and our hopes for a series of contests after that would have vanished! We are grateful! 
Features
The Visual winning entry
Artwork
The Visual runner-up entry
Artwork
dagoth-jeff
The Literature winning entry
:thumb346478528: and :thumb346504733:
Artwork
:thumb259845641: :thumb337137061: :thumb335950425: :thumb334820391:
The Literature runner-up entry
Artwork
On These Lost WingsOn These Lost Wings
------
O'er every hill, I soar to you,
On these black wings of mine,
Oh precious one who I adore,
That I dare to call divine,
None who speak can tell me why,
I should not hold you close,
And with this serpent's tongue I swear,
I shall not tell a lie,
To you or any you hold dear,
Be it you, or I,
As long as we can still draw breath,
And drift amongst the sky,
Till we fall from grace above,
And are doomed to die,
I swear of this, to you my love,
Wherever we may fly,
On wings of raven, or of dove,
Soaring ever high,
We had parted ways before,
Of this we were both aware,
And yet for all the time we'd lost,
It did not matter when or where,
To you, who I adore,
Thrice we walked our own lone paths,
Yet no matter how we strayed,
We found ourselves beside the hearths,
That we, as one, had made.
Louder Than ThunderLouder Than Thunder
------
'I suppose you're here for the story, like all the others? I can't say I'm surprised, word does have a tendency to get around and the stories about him always do get distorted. Very well, get comfortable and let me tell you how in one single moment it all came crashing down, I'll tell you how it ended and then tell you how it happened, and then maybe just maybe, I'll tell you how it began.'
The roar echoed across the mountainside, the bellow splitting the air with all the fury of a storm and then, silence. Just silence, no birds in the trees, no rustling of the wind against the leaves, not even the steady rush of water along a stream. Just the silence, the quiet, the incredible volume and din of sound that is nothing, no sound in the world is stronger than the silence that falls after it fades.
It always comes back to the same thing and it always means the same, when a wolf no longer howls, when a bat no longer shrieks, when the birds no long
Something Very SpecialSomething Very Special
------
"Tell me a story." He said to me. Looking at me with those naïve blue eyes like always.
"What's the magic word?" I asked him. He was so young and innocent then, not like now. My little boy, all grown up with the weight of the world on his shoulders, but still smiling, even now.
"Tell me a story... please. Oh please tell me one." He replied, remembering his manners after a little prompting. He was still learning back then, though he never really stopped I suppose.
"And what story would you like to hear?" I smiled at him and he smiled back. Such a beautiful child with the brightest smile, it matched his eyes, always sparkling.
"My favourite." He grinned.
His favourite... it actually scared me a little every time I told it. Not because the story itself was terrifying, though it had its moments. No, I just knew that one day my little boy would find something in that story that would change his life. He had always been special to me, alway
Swords and SandThe swords and sand are intertwined and thus the heart was scattered,
But worth nothing twas it truly it never really mattered,
All I know is all I am it's all that I will be,
This light so bright this dark so dim, no longer can I see,
And yet no sorrow I doth feel for unknown twas my cause,
all was known was all I am, bringer of the wars,
All the rest I'll never get, all the pain I suffer,
Warmed by fire, held by brimstone, kissed by burning sulphur,
This world so old, this dream so shallow,
The holy blade oh so hallowed,
A tool of war a sacred thing,
Of it's power angels sing,
But they are wrong I cry out loud,
How could something oh so cold be part of heaven's cloud,
It is the devils tool I say,
I hoped they'd listen to me but nay,
So that dark tool, made me the fool and stole away my shadow,
And ever more I walk this day forever unhallowed,
And ever more I must fight against against the blade of god,
A blade of god but not of good a cruel twisted joke,
No tool of war could ever be
The "People's Choice" winning entry
Artwork
Mature Content
Xull'rae the red headed drow"Dilyl tell us a story," The children whined. All three were running about and jumping onto things, but it was Irrkacha that was being the most annoying.
Don't meander Irr," Dilyl scolded.
"Don't use big words I don't know ol' lady," Irrkacha shot back.
"It's custom for drow to behave with better sense," Dilyl reminded the child, yanking her off the chair she was about to leap off of.
"Then I waiver tradition!" the little drow girl shouted at the top of her lungs, squirming in her captors grasp. The boys took one look at Dilyl and settled down.
"Why can you not be unspoiled like your brothers?" Dilyl sighed.
Irrkacha hissed, "Because you are stupid and stubby like a dwarf, you half-breed."
"Such derelict . . ." moaned Dilyl in a suffering manner.
"What?" the girl child asked in annoyance at an actual word she failed to understand.
Her twin, Izzkah came to the rescue to explain. "It means, lacking a sense of duty."
"Such a smarty know-it-all you
Mature Content
Childhood MemoriesIzzkah sighed in weariness, flopping onto his bed with abandon. His sister Irrkacha was in the bed beside his, snoring and drooling. She was stoned and drunk, it wouldn't be long before she was in the latrine vomiting the morning away and needing his help against their mother Xull'rae. It would all depend if Vesz'aun, their father, managed to sex her up properly. If so she would be lenient, if not, Izzkah unconsciously flinched at the thought.
He and his sister were grown by human standards, but by elven measure they were still children. To drow they were nothing until they went through their rite of passage. Izzkah stifled a yawn and got up to find something to read. There was no point in going into reverie when Irr would go through withdrawal shortly and their rite of passage would be at dusk today.
One red and one amber eye scanned the shelves, but he had read everything when something brown and cluttered caught his attention. Reaching forward he gripped something cool and soft. Man
