Winner of the KoEF Tournament '12 Story Contest

Today we have the winner of the Knights of the Eternal Flame Tournament '12 Story contest. I was amazed by the effort that must have gone into the story and the final result. Impressive.
Congratulations on winning this year's story contest...The Hunt of the Blasobeast by Tucker "Temorse" Noyes.

The story is fairly long and starts after the break...

The Hunt of the Blasobeast

~from the Book of Fell Fables~

Oh once there lived a Blasobeast

With fur as black as night

Blood red eyes, a hard foul stench

and teeth that glistened white

He roamed the lands both far and wide

No rock he left unturned

He sought a treasure known to few
A secret he had learned

He stalked a man, several weeks ago

On whom he meant to feast

But when he finally caught his prey

The man cried "Wait Blasobeast"

Now man was not often

The quarry of his hunt

And little did Blasobeast know
Of this creature he did confront

Man claimed he knew a secret

That few men would ever know

And he offered up the knowledge

If he would be let go

This intrigued the Blasobeast

Most victims wailed in fear

But this strange man was different

And the secret he would hear.

"Great prophets of the king

A future they have gleaned

A child will be born nearby

And one day will be queened

Now I had hopes to be that lucky man

Who sought her hand to wed

But now I see, oh Blasobeast

They must mean you instead"

Now this pleased the Blasobeast

More than words can tell

So Blasobeast decided

This man he would not quell

Off bounded mighty Blasobeast

To seek this newborn child

He would scavenge the land

Mountains, rivers, wilds

To the forest wilderness

The Blasobeast did tramp

And came upon a some trolls

In their dirty old war camp

Even trolls knew of the Blasobeast

And knew to fear him so

His crimson eyes, midnight fur

And long grey claws that he did grow

The audacious troll chieftain met him

In the middle of the village

And said "Begone Blasobeast
You shall not kill, steal nor pillage"

A terrible laugh came from the Blasobeast
He  smiled, a fierce shiny grin
That showed the long white daggers
That rose up from his chin

"I come to seek your daughter
That will one day rule these lands

And I will take her even if
It's from your cold dead hands"

The troll chief clenched his yellow teeth
On his mind these words did tax

Then he grimaced and glared
And drew his ragged axe.

No words did the chieftain utter

As he charged lone Blasobeast

But not long after battle

On troll did the Blasobeast feast

With the warriors slain, to the main tent

Did Blasobeast swiftly stroll

To seek his wife and future queen

The young maiden troll

But he howled an awful howl
That would turn a soul cold

When he saw that his wife to be

Was clearly much too old

This troll was not a child

And would never be a queen

This thing was old and decrepit

And the opposite of clean

He dashed from the camp in anger

He ran hard for an entire day

He did not care where to

And ended up in Fae

When the beasts rage calmed and settled

He meant  to continue his quest

And wandered Fae all over

North, South, East and West

He happened upon a fortress

Of some young Fae lord

He leaped and bound up the stone

And over ramparts soared

In the courtyard waited

His young lord of Fae

Royal guard encased him, but on beasts sight

For a moment they did sway

"I come to seek your newborn
That will one day rule these lands

And I will take it even if
It's from your cold dead hands"

The Fae lord drew his silver sword

With a face consigned to fate

For he knew of the Blasobeast

And knew it was too late

The Blasobeast dashed about

As the solemn Fae did fall

And one by one did they die
And the mighty lord was mauled

For no steely sword, nor silver spear
Nor magic arrow pierce

The thick dark hide of the Blasobeast

That is tough as he is fierce

Once battled ended and hunger sated

the Blasobeast searched the keep

He scoured halls and barracks

And into dungeons deep

Until he found the child

In cradle with a toy

But to the beasts despair

The young child was a boy

Forth from Fae did the Blasobeast flee

Madness began to grip his mind

No food nor sleep nor hunt
Would his unstable mind find

From mountaintop to valley deep

From rivers far and wide

The Blasobeast tore up the land

From his fury, none could hide

Until he came upon the lands of man

Into a farm he crept

He snuck right in the farmhouse

Where the farmer wearily slept

He came into the bedroom

And let out a mighty howl

The farmer awoke suddenly

To sight and scent most foul

"I come to seek your newborn
That will one day rule these lands

And I will take it even if
It's from your cold dead hands"

The man sat stunned for just a moment

Then quickly did he bow his head
"Oh Blasobeast I knew you'd come
And this day I did so dread"

The man slipped out of his small bed
And sauntered down the stairs
And led him to the barnyard

Past sheep, pigs and mares.

He signaled for the Blasobeast

To wait for just a second

And soon he reemerged

And to the beast he beckoned

He held in his hands a small white orb

Purple swirled and mixed

Blasobeast did not recognize it

And on it his eyes were fixed

"My daughter has not yet been born
Within her egg she sleeps
But if you wait long enough
Your queen you could then keep

You see my great Blasobeast

Special is the egg of man
The child inside can sleep

For a very long time span

You must be patient and wait
For once she does hatch

She will soon where a crown as queen

You you'll have one to match"

Blasobeast grabbed up the egg

And in haste he fled

Joy consumed his maddened mind

He had his bride to wed

He waited nearby the farm

He would not leave until she broke free

Time past by for days and days
Until the farmer went out to see

He found a sleeping Blasobeast
With egg clutched within his claw
But the sleep was eternal

As the man clearly saw

Many years later an old man strode

Up golden palace halls

To visit his lovely daughter
Who owned these shiny walls.

The man  was clad in mighty fur
That shimmered as black as night
And cloak was clasped with sharp carved teeth
That glistened a pearly white.

He came to palace often
To tell tales to his grandchild

Of a beast that he once met

As fierce as he was wild

His grandson always listened
With ears, eager and ready
And by the end of the tale

His palms were always sweaty

When story finally ended 
His grandsons face would burn up
And always would he comment
That's an odd way to use a turnip