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| Thread: The continuing saga of Bob.... |  This thread is pages long: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 · «PREV / NEXT» |
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kookastar
Honorable
Legendary Hero
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posted October 15, 2006 12:08 AM |
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I reached the top of the mountain and paused, catching my breath. Why did I always have to walk as fast as I could? The view from here was breathtaking. Literally; the dense cloud of spam fumes that caressed the mountain peaks took my breath away. The sight of the VW in all its glory was pretty fine too. Peering through the fog of spam mist, the landscape resembled a dream sequence in a trashy daytime soap opera. It was magnificent. All the tents nestled within the fiery black rock were life rafts for the spammers drifting through time. This was my home. A home worth fighting for. I filled my lungs one last time, and then stepped through the heavy iron gates and into the Coliseum.
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uhuh
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antipaladin
Promising
Legendary Hero
of Ooohs and Aaahs
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posted October 15, 2006 09:48 PM |
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No body arrived,he waited some time,then he disspeard..
days after he was seen by pandora walking in the wasteland,she waved and smiled at him but hes exprassion was meaningless,she tried to read hes mind and all she could read was 'none of your blue b-wax' in angry tone. He mouth was open abit,and he breathe only thorw it,he withdraw hes pack of Moonstang light,ciggerts,took one,took hes lighter and lighted it up,smoking it,hes eye's ware red,as if he cried recently,he passed by pandora,who is obiously shocked,and walked hours at the wasteland,smoking each 10-15 minuts a siggert,and wispering some curse in russian.
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types in obscure english
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pandora
Honorable
Legendary Hero
The Chosen One
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posted October 16, 2006 08:56 PM |
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Edited by pandora at 20:58, 16 Oct 2006.
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My eyes darted around the Glade, so many shadows rising and falling; you could not help but feel something was always lurking nearby. The soundtrack for this place would be whispers and sighs, mingled with laughter and the clinking of glasses in nearby pubs. These lands were quite alive, as a newcomer it was slightly intimidating and yet at the same time I could feel it's allure.
My eyes caught movement that was more than shadow, who could this be? Stepping lightly, i darted in and out from behind the different towers. There it was again
"Sha -- " my voice was cut short as realization hit "ACC?" I called out to the genie, but I don't think he heard. I called out again, stumbling over rocks as I rushed to get closer - cursing his ability to hover above them completely unhindered.
I stopped running, realizing it was futile. I would only speak with him when he chose to speak. I noticed in the eerie darkness of the Glade, my bluish glow was quite pronounced. *Hmmm, stronger here than out there? It makes no sense* I decided to teleport over to the Wastelands, the whole time I spent in the Glade I could feel the disturbances rock through that spammious land.
I caught sight of Antipaladin, who was looking just awful and babbling to himself in a foreign tongue. *What's wrong with him? Oh no! He is killing himself with those evil ciggert thingies!* As I approached, he sent me a strange message telepathically...and I decided it best to leave him be for a moment.
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"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
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kookastar
Honorable
Legendary Hero
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posted October 18, 2006 01:11 PM |
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The soft dry dirt of the arena swept silently at my feet as I looked around me, surrounded by the empty grandstands and forgotten threads reaching into grey clouds that threatened rain. I remembered the days when the stalls were full of cheering and jeering, and people had travelled from all over the world to share ideas and compete, feeding off each other in a quest to create a world of creatures and heroes worthy of a game that had touched them somehow. Each contestant grasping the dying dream of this world, weaving new magics in hope of reviving its life in the new lands of Ashan.
That was so long ago, time had moved around me, and Ashan was filled with graphics and bloat that had sent many of the chosen deep into the abyss, only one other had remained in the wastelands, lingering between worlds. Some had passed over to the otherother side, yet still the worlds they created lived on, hidden and forced to evolve on their own without our interference. In the distance I heard the whisper of a maiden "WTF is this place?". What is this place, indeed. Walking to the stone staircase I began the treck to the Cavern.
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uhuh
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Guitarguy
Responsible
Supreme Hero
Rockoon.
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posted December 21, 2006 04:28 PM |
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I searched high and low through the Community for PC and Bob, but neither of them turned up. Strangely, most of these mysterious things had quieted down throughout the place. No stray talk came from the Tavern, and the other territories were practically dry of clues about Bob. To my knowledge, there was only one region I hadn't checked:
Trogdor's residence, located in the heart of VW.
Before I headed over there, I brought out my shotgun and loaded it well. No, it wasn't going to be used on Trogdor (at least I didn't think so); Trogdor's domain is crawling with spam grubbies, VW's native fauna that have a nasty habit of spitting corrosive spam chunks at unwary travelors. I wasn't planning on getting any spammy spew on my new shirt.
Since I hadn't been to Trogdor's place before, I had to refer to the map. The place was hard to find; I missed it at first because it was marked with the initials TSF ("Trogdor's Spam Factory", according to the map legend). I sure wasn't aware that Trogdor owned a factory, although the spam part made perfect sense to me. Anyway, I had to get there soon to search for clues as to the whereabouts of PC and that mysterious Bob. Unfortunately for me, I had to walk a long distance before I got there. So off I went.
[10 minutes passed]
...
[30 minutes passed]
...
[1 hour passed]
...
[2 hours passed]
...
[4 hours passed]
...
[6 hours passed]
I finally reached the factory when it was getting dark. Walking up to the door, I reached out with my hand to grab the knob...which was greasy with what appeared to be spam oil. Opening the door, I was greeted by the noise of conveyer belts and the nauseating smell of spam from all directions. Large chunks of leaky spam hung from hooks on the wall. Bloated fat men milled about the building with their cleavers, chopping up spam left and right. It was all too disgusting for me. It took me a minute to straighten myself up.
"Trogdor? Are you there?"
-Guitarguy
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Shadowcaster
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Shaded Scribe
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posted December 22, 2006 06:29 AM |
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The shimmer subsided, and the portal settled back into its gentle ripple. Whoever had used it was entering, a rarity in the Glade these days. ACC wouldn't need to wait long for the roleplayer to return to reality, as RP time had been accelerated so that those involved didn't waste their realities crafting the imaginary, but even the time he had was precious and involving someone else would be needlessly nosy. Shadowcaster had always sought to stay out of others' way, and that part of his personality was so strong that it had spread to the genie's. It was more a compulsion in this body, however.
ACC was Shadowcaster from long ago, the same yet different. Shadow had been transformed by the years, by experiences that ACC could never know. Returning now to who he was proved difficult, for he had to battle tendencies he had long forgotten. It was a constant struggle for Shadowcaster to persevere in ACC's body, and he feared that after too long, he would no longer be himself. Even now, he had this strange desire to pin halflings to the wall.
The genie glided over the rocky crags of the outer Glade, driven to aimless wandering by his ponderances as he searched the darkest corners of the Glade for the escapees. Surefooted Baarta hopped along behind, keeping pace with the hovering genie. The illusionist possessed sharpshooter agility, no doubt the result of the same phenomenon that was causing ACC's identity crisis.
The pair continued onward when ACC heard the portal shimmer again. He subtly increased his pace, and ignored the voice that called out to him. Baarta urged the genie to stop and see who had shouted his name, but ACC simply continued onward. Before long, they were far away from the portals.
There was a reason for all the rocks in the unsettled parts of the Glade. These rocks were magical, created by the Great Mage himself to power the Glade's portals. Much like a magical coal, these stones granted any member the power to create a portal to another world. The creator would crack open a rock and allow the magical energies to flow into one of the Glade's many unoccupied gates. They would then step into the newly created portal and into a world of complete emptiness. Once the portal creator imagined a world, it would appear to them. Shadowcaster had always been interested in studying how these rocks worked, but he eventually gave up as he realized that this was all Valeriy's world. Not everything would make sense. It was an idea that everyone at HC would grapple with at one time or another.
The gates shifted forward as their stories were updated, so every one was empty back where the pair searched, each an untapped imagination. One day, Shadowcaster hoped these would all be filled with their own fantastic tales, but he never expected it would happen. Everyone was focused on interaction amongst themselves, not created characters, and therefore focused on the Tavern and the Wastelands. Those would take a while to search.
They reached the end of the Glade and looked down the cliffs at the Wastelands, the lowest of the low in HC. Elevation-wise, too. They would not be able to reach it from here, however, as the SPAM barrier was far too thick on the Wastelands' outskirts. ACC saw a lone figure enter a large, grubby building, then turned to traverse the boundary. They hadn't found anything yet. And, after a long while, it became clear that the figments were not in the Glade. ACC and Baarta returned to the gate and prepared to enter the Wastelands next.
Shadowcaster would have gone to the VW next as well, but only to get the search over with. ACC, on the other hand, could not help but feel excited. This was the place where everyone was most honest with each other, the place with no rules. Shadowcaster had loved rules, but ACC had simply been confused by them. He had always marched to his own drum. The genie's dark side, that of rationality, hoped that he would not be swept into the lawlessness of the Wastelands, but it was still early on. Perhaps ACC could still fight it.
They headed in.
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>_>
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antipaladin
Promising
Legendary Hero
of Ooohs and Aaahs
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posted December 23, 2006 05:44 AM |
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anti had long been uncounsiences and awaken somewhere in the wasteland.
hes memory failed him at the reason of hes uncousines but not what happed prior.
he needed to conntact pandora to know what had happend while he was gone.
he tried sending telepthy but she was asleep ,or blocked hes massage.
he sat on a rock in the middle of nowere,smoking a cig.untill he spoted shadowcaster's image reflecting on the sky.
he was trying to tell him something,but what?
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types in obscure english
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pandora
Honorable
Legendary Hero
The Chosen One
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posted April 09, 2007 05:28 PM |
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Edited by pandora at 17:31, 09 Apr 2007.
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I woke up in a fog, completely unsure of what had happened. This had been happening far too often lately... giant time lapses, utter confusion... *sigh*
I stood up and looked around, I was back in the Tavern of the Rising Sun - okay, that's not so bad. i was all at once thirsty and hungry - nothing better for that than soup, I thought to myself as I headed towards the modsquad. Maybe once I got there I'd be able to figure out what had been going on - and how long I'd been away for this time.
Suddenly I felt it, that nasty prickly sensation that I was being watched. I looked around and out of the corner of my eye I saw this shiny metallic blur.
"What the heck??" I muttered to myself as I moved towards it.
Teeehhheeeeteeheeeteeeheee SPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAM!! Teeeheeeheee
I heard the robotic (?) giggling grow louder, and then he emerged. He stood a full foot taller than I did, and was a gleaming silver colour
Holy crap....Valeriy actually did it. I saw the plans for A.D.A.M long ago and I was sure it was a joke, it was something Valeriy came up with during his sleepless phase...How long had it been out?
"Uhm... Let's go A.D.A.M... back to HQ where we can get you some nice... uhm.. donut oil..." I said tentatively.
No Go No Go No GO Bad Pandora SPAMSPAMSPAMSPAM Bad!
A.D.A.M started flinging things at me.
"Ouuuuch you jerk!" I shrieked as one after another of them hit and bounced off me. "What the heck are you doing???"
I looked down and saw the ground at my feet nearly a hundred slightly dented penalties. A.D.A.M looked down too and started again with is babble
MALFUNCTIONMALFUNCTIONMALFUNCTIONMALFUNCTIONMALFUNCTIONMALFUNCTION
"well of course its a malfunction you idiot, I'm a moderator, you can't penalize me!!" I yelled at him, rubbing my aching arms.
NONOBADPANDORAMALFUNCIONBADNONOBADPANDORAMALFUNCIONBAD
A.D.A.M started to smoke a little bit as he ranted, and then suddenly he was gone.
"Woah... now that was really weird...."
I started back towards the squad, hoping to find a friendly face. It was a slow journey though, with Shadowcaster gone and me away for however long this place had gotten really spammy. *sigh* Lots of work to do here...I sure did miss Shadowcaster.
And those penalties really stung! No wonder the spammers hate em so much, they must feel way worse when they can stick right into you... yikes.
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"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
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RedSoxFan3
Admirable
Legendary Hero
Fan of Red Sox
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posted April 14, 2007 12:13 AM |
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Dear Diary, Friday April 13th
It was weird not having the sword at your side all the time. But then again it was also just as weird being an undercover mod. And it would take a long time before the general public would ever trust me again. The worst thing of all though was no donuts and no soup.
But I found this nice place where me and Dragon Slayer can go to eat soup, and Shadow MightyMage told me he'd give us the leftover lemon filled donuts, since nobody ever liked those. I don't trust him though. He hasn't given us any lemon filled donuts yet. And people did eat those, just they were always the last ones left. I bet he's just saying that to the other mods, so he can eat them himself. Fat tub o lard.
Edit: Wasn't aware Shadow wasn't in the thread. Lurkin son of a snow.
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Go Red Sox!
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ACC
Adventuring Hero
Enemy of the Efreet
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posted April 14, 2007 03:59 AM |
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Some while ago...
ACC and Baarta continued into the Wastelands, the genie slowly being driven mad by the constant barrage of one-liners zipping through the air. Members brought all their grievances here, and this was also the final resting place for most unresolved arguments. Bad vibes were all around, some not even erasable by the finality of deletion. Deep in this scorched shell of a forum, the spirits of banned members were rumored to haunt the fringe of HC, waiting for a chance to slip in under another identity. If ACC were to meet one of them, the spirit could fuse itself to his largely ethereal body and take control of his consciousness. Yet, he had heard nothing in the guilds of any strange figures roaming HC. Either they had blended into the membership or were hiding on the outskirts of HC.
The air was throbbing now, pulsing red with the heat of the mighty volcano that powered the land. Only Wastelands moderators usually dared to venture this far, traversing the most desolate of terrains to safely dispose of the SPAM that had been collected from every forum. Even they only traveled out here when they had to, once the SPAM coffers were full, and that happened only once a month on average.
Baarta stopped short; his false flesh could take no more heat without protection. Not only did ACC not want to lose this friend he had created, but he had no idea what would happen if a figment were to die. Four others roamed HC, but the presence of the Mad Wizard RSF meant that no one, figment or member, was safe. Even the Mod Squad held no sway over him, for figments were immune to their borrowed abilities of Penalysis and Silence. They would, like every other member, have to rely on their own powers to hold the wizard at bay. He hated to leave the illusionist alone, but there was no other way.
Smoke billowed in the air now, which would have blackened ACC's lungs if he had needed any. Ashes hovered over the mountainside in a black mist, making it impossible to see very far at all. Good, he thought, it may be harder for me to see, but I will be much more difficult to spot as well. The genie slowly ascended the mountain, making use of the sizzling rockface to hide from any would-be surprise attackers.
It was not long before he reached the lip of the volcano, at which point even his spectral form was toiling. ACC peered over into the shadows of red flickering from deep within the mountain. Then, something struck his ear. He slowly became aware of a melodical voice chanting into echoes a spell of unknown origin. Slowly, the chanting became louder and the genie was able to track the source.
A lone silhouette floated high above the volcano, but the heavy robes made the details of the outline impossible to make out. Two narrow beams of red were pointed straight at ACC. Whoever, or whatever, it was knew he was there, yet did not cease from its chanting. The voice only grew louder, the pinpoint eyes never once wavering from ACC's position. When finally the chanting stopped, the ground began to rumble ominously. The volcano was going to blow! He had realized all too late that the figure was none other than the figment he dreaded most: RSF.
He hurried frantically down the mountainside, but it was too late. ACC could only turn and watch the wave of scalding magma hurtle ever closer. This was it; he was going to die for good.
Yet, in our last fleeting moments, we often ponder our fates with the clearest of minds, for all else seems insignificant. ACC's clarity paid off. Though his spell points were too drained to form a dimensional door for his own escape, he did have the energy to create one for a much smaller object. He focused as the wave grew ever closer and opened the portal, quickly tossing his lamp through the portal while trying to enter it at the same time. But luck was not on his side. The lamp made it through, but its master did not.
The lava engulfed ACC and swept him down the mountainside to where Baarta waited. RSF was not far behind, and the magma was beginning to congeal. The genie, subjected to insurmountable pain, now had to rely on Baarta to save both of their lives. He spotted the illusionist sitting on the ground, rubbing his head from some recent impact. ACC was elated to see that his aim was true, for his lamp stood not far from where the figment sat. ACC eased his way out of the molten rock and yelled frantically toward the illusionist:
RUN!!!
Baarta snapped into attention and looked around for ACC. He located the genie lying paralyzed on the base of the volcano and, ignoring the mounting heat, began to charge toward his friend. Yet, some wild caution in the genie's eyes froze him, and Baarta followed ACC's eyes to the lamp. He stood for a moment in shock, then, seeing the figure descending the volcano, simply nodded, grabbed the lamp, and disappeared into the smoke.
ACC was alone with the wizard now, but unkillable as long as Baarta had his lamp. He winced as he heard the cackling laughter approach from above and prepared to undergo pains far worse than he had ever known before. His only hope now was that Baarta could find someone - anyone - who could subdue RSF and bring him back into the binding caress of Glade River Valley.
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"If you fight a battle and you flee,
Another day you'll live to see,
but if you gain the victory,
a mighty hero you shall be."
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pandora
Honorable
Legendary Hero
The Chosen One
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posted October 05, 2007 10:46 PM |
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I woke up again, my head still feeling kind of foggy and looked around.
"Ohhhh no! Not another giant time lapse!" I groaned to myself.
It had been happening all too frequently, long gaps where I find myself transported to this strange Otherworld and then return to find all sorts of mess to clean.
I stood up slowly and looked around at the ground under my feet
"Peanut shells?! What the heck is happening here now??"
I decided to walk back to my Modtower for a quick bowl of soup before I try to figure out what's been happening.
"Ugh... everything smells like peanuts now..."
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"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
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ACC
Adventuring Hero
Enemy of the Efreet
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posted October 05, 2007 11:09 PM |
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Edited by ACC at 23:21, 05 Oct 2007.
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The sharpshooter weaved through the crowd of HC, keeping careful to keep the lamp hidden from sight from any would-be thieves. Especially that one that was especially attracted to shiny things. ACC had warned him about her. She could be as stealthy as Shadowcaster when lying in wait for something shiny to come along, then she would strike like a python and dash off into the crowd with her spoils, giggling like a maniac. Alc had described her as a pure vector. One of these attacks was, apparently, truly a sight to behold.
Baarta was alone now in this unfamiliar world, unaware of where he was or who he needed to find. One of the peacemakers would be ideal, but they never seemed to be around anymore. The noble swords and shields of the Order of Moderation stayed snug in their fortress, behind an indestructible wall erected originally to guard donuts. You couldn't say the mods' priorities were skewed, but they all seemed to buy into the idea that senility, and the resulting soup, absolved them of their modhats in most situations. They were almost always right, too.
But Baarta knew none of this, and he simply walked on looking for a familiar face. Eventually, he found his way into a broad plaza with a sign above it that said Turban Tribunal. Beside it was a large inn dedicated to newly-arrived travelers who were doubtless weary and in search of information about HC. The sharpshooter considered going there in search of aid, but only a select few veterans ever ventured into the Inn. Indeed, it was in a state of disrepair.
Baarta's attention turned again to the plaza, and he noticed a hulking stone slab with several smaller stones gathered around it. A discussion table for the good of the community, he guessed. An interesting choice for the equivalent of the Town Hall. Beside the table stood a weathered bulletin board, the place where HCers could voice their opinions about the good of the community. Baarta decided that was just what he was going to do.
Yet, as he began to create the thread he would use to enlist aid in capturing his fellow figments, Baarta began to feel the world warp around him. Within him, a feeling of unease settled, drained his energy. Perhaps, he thought, the mage had already caught up to him. He had to get this thread posted now! Baarta quickly scrawled the letter and placed it on the board, and then the world of HC crashed.
He awoke after what seemed like days, wondering what had happened. Hazy memories pieced themselves together in his mind, but Baarta could recall nothing except the faint sensation that a great deal of time had passed. The sharpshooter stood to his feet and wandered into the streets of HC, wondering why he had woken up in this foreign land.
(PS: I'm gonna make this sound prettier later on. It's Friday, so my heart's just not into it. >_>
*runs off to the soup kitchen*)
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"If you fight a battle and you flee,
Another day you'll live to see,
but if you gain the victory,
a mighty hero you shall be."
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pandora
Honorable
Legendary Hero
The Chosen One
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posted October 09, 2007 10:20 PM |
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I looked around the halls of the modsquad, it was eerily quiet today...I peered into the main dining hall and saw that it too was empty. That was a relief, Mightymage was a terrible soup slurper - and today i just didn't feel like I could handle it.
I noticed that today's soup was alphabet (...again) but nobody had bothered to take out the R's, S's and F's yet.
"Hmmm... lazy little..." I grumbled, as I began to pull them out with the special ladle we had just for that purpose. Once I was satisfied that I had fished them all out, I picked up the plate they were resting on and went to throw it out to the wastelands.
As I threw them out the window, the letters didn't just fall away as they usually do - but the started to swirl around in the air.
"What the heck?!" I gasped, baffled.
As I watched the letters seemed to separate themselves into groups of three - one R one S and one F. Looking closer I saw that if I were to connect the letters they all created a perfect triangle. They seemed to be taking on a solid Triangular form, emitting a pulsing yellow glow.
I reached out the window trying to catch one of them, but was too late. The RSF Triangles were now loose on HC. I winced as i saw them take off to the wastelands, the Newcomers Inn, the Otherside and noooo... even the tavern.
"Damnit" I snapped, so grouchy now that I didn't even feel like having soup anymore. I walked towards Valeriy's room, hoping that maybe during one of my lapses he had returned - but when I looked through his keyhole all I saw were his things just as before, with a thin covering of dust over everything.
I sighed, maybe this rift between me and Valeriy won't be mended this time. I decided to head towards the stairs to the attic, and see if maybe I could find anything up there to give me some insight as to what I should do next.
As I passed by the window, I barely caught a glimpse of some movement outside in the Tribunal. As I turned my head to try to get a closer look at who it was - everything seemed to ripple.. the stairs under my feet became nearly translucent and I felt the sickest sensation in the pit of my stomach.
I opened my eyes, and saw that I was sprawled across the staircase. I nearly stumbled as I tried to stand, the staircase was pitch black now... it was night time. But how? I cast an illuminating spell and followed my own glow back down the stairs, and headed towards the Tribunal - mindful to watch for stray triangles along the way.
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"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
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Korejora
Promising
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posted October 10, 2007 11:53 AM |
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"Nooobody knows the trouble I've seeeeen..." the little microscopic hydra sang to... well... other microorganisms. Other microorganisms lacked a little bit of spunk called 'sentience', though. Sigh! Things just weren't the same when you were only a few picometres tall.
It noticed a vaguely yellowish glow roughly in the direction of 'up', and a very soupy smell... soup... soup? Okay, soup probably meant near the Mod Squad HQ. Since this was definitely not inside the Mod Squad HQ, it had to be one of the neighbouring lands - the Coliseum or the Tribunal. But which? There was probably no reason to ever for a microscopic hydra to visit the Coliseum, so the Tribunal was probably it.
Now armed with knowledge and position, it began to ponder the logistics of moving itself from one place to another. Finding a much larger, faster being seemed key. So it was time to communicate with the Great Creatures From Beyond The Microscope.
"Hellooooooooooooooo! Are there any G.C.F.B.T.M.'s out there? I could use a little help..."
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That's the best part. 
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ACC
Adventuring Hero
Enemy of the Efreet
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posted October 17, 2007 01:22 AM |
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Things were different now. Even Baarta, who hadn't been in the lands of HC for too long, noticed that things had changed. There was a new garden growing near the Tavern, and the Wastelands was full of ethereal SPAM. Asking around, no one could tell him the source of these phantom SPAMuloids, but there approximately 16777180 separate gobs dotted around the landscape like little snares. It was odd, however, because, even though you could see this phantom SPAM, it was transparent and could not be touched, like one of his illusions. Was this a side-effect of his little crash? Was HC itself the illusion?
Life at HC had continued on without him, and no one really seemed to pay the supposedly unconscious illusionist much mind. He must have been transported somewhere else entirely, created some kind of cyberspace/time rift that had dragged his unconscious body away from HC's hub. Maybe he was trapped here in a dream, waiting to wake up to the lands he had left. If anyone here were to know about this, to establish some constancy, it would be the Mage of the Land that ACC had mentioned. Yet how, he wondered, would he gain an audience? The illusionist knew nothing of Valeriy besides the fragments of stories ACC had told him while they searched HC for the figments. Was he a benevolent ruler? Was he easy to find? Baarta had many questions, but few answers. He didn't want to resume his search for his friend or the loosed figments until he was sure he was rooted in the right reality.
Then, he remembered ACC's mention of the peacekeepers. Surely they knew something about Val's location and identity, but where was he to start? An answer came in the form of a tower that stood by the gate to the Wastelands, a magnificent monument that served as a beacon to light they way out of this desolate land. One word ordained the tower's top: Pandora.
He mused at his situation. No one recognized an illusion better than Baarta, but not even Loxlia felt this real, and that had been crafted by the most powerful of warlocks. He had been poised to break out of that illusion, but he was wrapped in another as well. All Baarta was to HC was another character, a source of entertainment for the scribes in the Glade. He had never guessed. What kind of magic fueled the portal that led to his world? As he considered more and more his ironic fate, the illusionist decided he would find the answers he sought before returning to his mission. After all, if this were fake, it was very convincing, perhaps crafted from the very source code of the Heroes' Community. His answers would come as readily here as they would in the real HC.
And, if it were real? Then it was probably already too late, and Baarta wasn't ready to face that reality quite yet. He hid himself as best he could and made his way over to the Glade.
____________
"If you fight a battle and you flee,
Another day you'll live to see,
but if you gain the victory,
a mighty hero you shall be."
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ACC
Adventuring Hero
Enemy of the Efreet
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posted December 07, 2007 12:59 AM |
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Edited by ACC at 01:01, 07 Dec 2007.
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The illusionist stood considering his precarious position in HC as he stared at the portal that led back to the comfortable familiarity of his own frozen world. It took all of his might not to step through the gateway once again and leave all of his troubles behind, but he could not abandon his friend. Through all the illusions he had crafted and inhabited over the years, one thing remained constant, and that was his friendship with ACC. Even when he couldn't trust the ground on which he stood for much of his life, his friend had been there as well, fighting alongside him to find the truth in the midst of constant wavering. In fact, he owed his very life to the genie, for it was he who had created Baarta in the first place. Yet, this realization had brought with it many troubling questions.
Was he himself illusion? Baarta had been crafted by ACC, but even the genie had shared with his friend the notion that he, himself, had been created as well. Vague memories floated within the genie's head--visions of great power, of darkness, of soup--but he could no sooner place those memories than Baarta could place his creator's. The genie had lived an entire lifetime, nay many, thanks to the Glade's mysterious power, without Baarta, had grown immeasurably while the illusionist remained trapped in the genie's fantasy. ACC meant the world to him, but who was to say he was worth anything to his creator? After all, the genie could easily create another figment to take his place should he tire or become angry with the sharpshooter. He'd even laid bare his plans to put Baarta back in the story where he was trapped once the pair had found the rest of the figments. And it was doubtful that he'd revive the story out of gratitude for all he'd done for the genie, either. Baarta was completely at ACC's mercy.
Yes..., rung out a still and ominous whisper in his head. I have seen the genie's heart, and his deepest secrets and darkest intentions have been revealed to me.
"Who are you?" Baarta asked the air.
I have been watching you for some time with great interest, illusion. I have seen your heart as well. You wish to become substantial, to mean something in this great wide world of HC. Your 'friend' plans to betray you, to put you back into your prison and take the glory of saving HC for himself.
"ACC would never do that to me! I am a necessary sacrifice toward restabilizing HC! I'm his closest ally, and I know him a hell of a lot better than you, spirit!"
Do you? I have sensed the doubt that riddles your mind with questions, doubt directed at the one in whom you place so much trust. Why lie to yourself for his sake when you are nothing more than ink on a page in his eyes?
"You aren't real! You're just some manifestation of the evil inside of me. I WILL BE RID OF YOU!" Baarta threw his hands into the air and put all his energy into casting a spell to disperse any illusions that haunted his mind. Energy rippled throughout his body and suddenly released, knocking the illusionist out cold.
Baarta awoke in an unfamiliar place, filled with silver that surged like lightning and a great glass window to a strange world filled with giants. One, in particular, sat staring intently at the window, but he did not seem to notice the illusionist staring back at him. Baarta looked all around for a way out, but this place was locked tight--a prison without an exit. Where was he?
You look lost, good sir! the same smarmy voice as before rattled into Baarta's brain. Perhaps it's about time you started cooperating with me.
Baarta sank to his knees.
"Very well."
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"If you fight a battle and you flee,
Another day you'll live to see,
but if you gain the victory,
a mighty hero you shall be."
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pandora
Honorable
Legendary Hero
The Chosen One
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posted December 11, 2007 06:29 PM |
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I looked around the Tribunal, in shock that once again so much time had lapsed. At a quick glance I saw that people were still posting their complaints about the same things they always had - I felt relieved to see that at least not much had changed, Ishould be able to get back into the swing of things in no time. I couldn't quite recall what had brought me here in the first place, no matter though - two months meant lots of work to do.
I teleported myself to the Great Tree and started pruning all the unwanted leaves, this always made me feel so much better. from there I went to the Wastelands, and felt somewhat saddened by the fact that all of our members seemed to be giving up on everything these days.
Once I was satisfied that most things were in order I set my mind to trying to figure out what had been happening here for so long. Clearly unleashing Bob was not a good thing to have done, there has been nothing but strange occurrences and unrest since that fateful day. I felt strangely disconnected from the community - I think this has most to do with my disconnection from Valeriy. *Things are so different now* I sighed.
Two new members ran by me, flinging silly insults and nonsense - to my horror I saw that they were wearing nothing but underpants! this would never have happened when Shadowcaster was around, I thought sadly. How I missed him and those cropping shears of his. Tighty Whiteys were never to be seen when he was around, sure there was the occasional pink thong flung here and there, but that's just to be expected.
I went and traveled to the far reaches of the tavern, and saw what was once my favorite place to be. I reached for my keyring, unlocking the door to Tosser's tavern and slipped inside. i looked around, and a wave of nostalgia hit me so hard... there was the friggin bigscreen Tv that we'd watched so many Leafs games on, and the tables I used to dance on to celebrate their victory. Hmmm, Mats Sundin is having a great year, maybe one little dance would do me so good
After my dance I noticed the sign on the wall, now covered with dust
Quote:
Free for all friends
I blew the dust off and smiled, that's what we need again.. I slipped out the door and locked it behind me, and began my search for allies - to finally figure out what's gone wrong - and to usher in a new age.
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"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
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Geny
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
What if Elvin was female?
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posted December 11, 2007 08:49 PM |
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Edited by Geny at 20:49, 11 Dec 2007.
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Somewhere in the heat of the Volcanic Wastelands a tired Spam Lord entered his humble abode and turned on the air conditioner.
Ahhh... Finally cold air... Note to self: ask Valeriy to turn the Wastelands into icy mountains. Now that would rock - the "Chill Out" forum... although it might be a problem finding Valeriy, it seems that nobody has a clue to where he is...
I walked to the bar and fixed myself some vodka on ice. I really needed that drink. Things are getting weirder and weirder by the day here. First those newbies come and start spamming the Wastelands raising the temperature to a boiling point... of solid rock! I mean what's wrong with spammers nowadays? My peanuts are piling up, at this rate I'll have to recruit another Peanut Planter just for the space in his room... and if that's not enough, I actually started acting serious in certain places!
Something must be done!!!
It's a pity I'm too lazy to do it...
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DON'T BE A NOOB, JOIN A.D.V.E.N.T.U.R.E.
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JoonasTo
Responsible
Undefeatable Hero
What if Elvin was female?
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posted December 11, 2007 09:41 PM |
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JoonasTo was wandering around HC when he heard someone named Bob preach about himself being the Messiah. He seemed to be gathering an army in the shadows.
This couldn't be tolerated. There was only one true Messiah. Heretics must be struck down.
He decided to get to the bottom of this all. How could something as important as this get by without him noticing it?
This Bob seemed to be a strange one indeed. Living in the attic all alone. Having only the riddle master and mods to accompany him at times.
Nowadays he seemed to have forgotten those times. He was claimed to have an amnesia.A good excuse for not speaking of his past. But as always truth would come out someday.
But what powers did this strange Bob posess. Rumors had it that he had even silenced a mod one time.
Time will tell...
Only time will tell...
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DON'T BE A NOOB, JOIN A.D.V.E.N.T.U.R.E.
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antipaladin
Promising
Legendary Hero
of Ooohs and Aaahs
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posted December 11, 2007 11:19 PM |
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After a long slumber I awakend,Time did not do well with my body.
I changed,my long beared remained,but my eyes become red blood,and my nails became long and sharp,my hair back,but skin is decaying,im evoloving,or rather De-evolving. Then i Remmberd.
How much time was a borrowed?The sight,the dream! I must find pandora,she is the key to this! she is the key to bob's mystree,she is the key to HC!
But she dont know it,or does she? the immense power she posses?I tried remmbering by detials,but i couldnt,it seems it drifted away.the true meaning of HC,what HC was really created for.and the spamm corruption and begining to menifest in this creation,of unkown desires...
Confussed,puzzled,and frustated,i summoned her before.
"Pandora! Pandora! I summon thee here,at this locaition,by the power invested in me!" I Unsheeted my sword,who had aperntly also de-evloped,skulls dreeping with black substence coverd it,i stuck in the ground,and sat,wating for pandora to arrive.
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types in obscure english
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