Terrance888
Discord Reigns
I got a silver cross.
JNES: Time Tells All
- Thread starter Jason The King
- Start date
SKILORD
Insurgent
Well, if he were a witch then I definately think he'd have done the update by now, I am not trying to say he is a witch. I mean, if anything we should be encouraging him to explore the potentials that magic might hold as far as productivity...
lol
lol
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
He can post a Symbol of Insantiy on forum to convince us that today is sunday... (Shall we WWW this?)
Jason The King
Deity
So I went to my folks' house for the holidays to find out their computer is sort of out of commission. I have my macbook with me, but I usually do not do updates on it because it can't run GIMP without lagging horribly (plus I have to plug it directly into an ethernet cord...not cool).
If I can't get their computer up and running today, I'll finish the update on the mac but I won't be able to do the map.
So there we are!
If I can't get their computer up and running today, I'll finish the update on the mac but I won't be able to do the map.
So there we are!
Abaddon
Deity
Written now, map later is good enough for us to survive on for now 
SKILORD
Insurgent
/Dismantles stake and kindling. Sits quietly in corner and waits patiently, twiddling thumbs.
Abaddon
Deity
*Plays with kindling*
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
*Keeps sharpened silver-plated wooden cross handy*
Milarqui
Deity
*Arms nuclear weapon and points it towards the Golden Gate Bridge*
Abaddon
Deity
What did San Francisco do to you?!?
Milarqui
Deity
It's where he lives?
I guess that it was too much...
*Loads double-barrelled shotgun and prepares to take a plane from which to parachute into Bay Area, California*
Doesn't let me use the actual word for preparing the shotgun..
Abaddon
Deity
*chu-chuck*
Jason The King
Deity
Just a quick update on the update in an attempt to suppress the rebellious sentiment, I've got openOffice working now (the 'rents didn't have word....and I refuse to write with Works!!!) and am working on the update on and off today.
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
I call a Liberty Update Movement! (j/k we really need our adrenaline from reading a honest to goodnes JTK update)
Eltain
Deity
The sun bore brightly down onto the bitter, frozen faces of the soldiers, as they marched single file through the shallow path of snow created by hundreds of soldiers marching in front of them. A bitter wind blew harshly from the east, drowning out most all sounds.
Ansel blew on his hands and ferris wheeled his arms. He was not normally bothered by the cold, but this was a bit much. "I can feel the ice forming on my face," he complained to the soldier in front of and behind him. They were his new marching buddies, as he had been seperated from his ambush group last night at the camp.
"Yeah, it's there, on your moustache, under your nose," said the one in front of him, looking over his shoulder. "Damn this winter campaigning. Tarkuk would have us do this, too. He's let his Hittite campaigns make his head big. We're just securing Hoelians, damnit."
The sound and blur of a horse racing by on his right brought him back to the present, and they both listened intently for horns. The cavalry wouldn't be charging around like that if there weren't bad news
The vast snowy wasteland that northern Assyria was in the winter always bugged Ansel. He had moved away from this backwater when he was young, to Sheol, and never thought he'd have to come back.
The clarion horn sounded in the distance, signaling a hasty retreat. Something had spooked the higher ups and he did not like it. He drew his sickle sword and turned on his heel, now racing south with an army of strangers. He wished he had his friends, his drinking buddies, his brothers in arms.
A few minutes of running passed, and Ansel was not even warmed up. He had been a street urchin in his youth, after his parents died, and was a good runner, having so much experience with the hit and run of thievery. He had retired from that life after a successful robbery of a rich man, and moved, starting a new life in Assyria again.
Suddenly, the scream of horses and men alike echoed around him. A dozen soldiers in front of him slowed and turned, lowering pikes they had been carrying. An order unheard by most, save for them? Perhaps.
He slowed and turned around, to see his thousand comrades continuing the retreat, while those few stayed, to be cut down by some sort of horse-drawn carriages, with massive nails and spikes attached to the sides of the wheels. Archers adorned it at every spot possible and a spear wielder or two as well.
Ansel awoke from his position face-down in the icy, bloody mud. He could remember a battle, and bones, and blood. He looked down, to realize those bones had been his. His legs had been beaten up and mutilated, perhaps from being trampled. Not crying nor sad, he closed his eyes, and let go of his life.
OOC: False alarms and spam-posts does not a happy Eltain make.
Ansel blew on his hands and ferris wheeled his arms. He was not normally bothered by the cold, but this was a bit much. "I can feel the ice forming on my face," he complained to the soldier in front of and behind him. They were his new marching buddies, as he had been seperated from his ambush group last night at the camp.
"Yeah, it's there, on your moustache, under your nose," said the one in front of him, looking over his shoulder. "Damn this winter campaigning. Tarkuk would have us do this, too. He's let his Hittite campaigns make his head big. We're just securing Hoelians, damnit."
The sound and blur of a horse racing by on his right brought him back to the present, and they both listened intently for horns. The cavalry wouldn't be charging around like that if there weren't bad news
The vast snowy wasteland that northern Assyria was in the winter always bugged Ansel. He had moved away from this backwater when he was young, to Sheol, and never thought he'd have to come back.
The clarion horn sounded in the distance, signaling a hasty retreat. Something had spooked the higher ups and he did not like it. He drew his sickle sword and turned on his heel, now racing south with an army of strangers. He wished he had his friends, his drinking buddies, his brothers in arms.
A few minutes of running passed, and Ansel was not even warmed up. He had been a street urchin in his youth, after his parents died, and was a good runner, having so much experience with the hit and run of thievery. He had retired from that life after a successful robbery of a rich man, and moved, starting a new life in Assyria again.
Suddenly, the scream of horses and men alike echoed around him. A dozen soldiers in front of him slowed and turned, lowering pikes they had been carrying. An order unheard by most, save for them? Perhaps.
He slowed and turned around, to see his thousand comrades continuing the retreat, while those few stayed, to be cut down by some sort of horse-drawn carriages, with massive nails and spikes attached to the sides of the wheels. Archers adorned it at every spot possible and a spear wielder or two as well.
Ansel awoke from his position face-down in the icy, bloody mud. He could remember a battle, and bones, and blood. He looked down, to realize those bones had been his. His legs had been beaten up and mutilated, perhaps from being trampled. Not crying nor sad, he closed his eyes, and let go of his life.
OOC: False alarms and spam-posts does not a happy Eltain make.
SKILORD
Insurgent
I totally would have been satisfied with a text only update....
Terrance888
Discord Reigns
Even if you do it RTOR minimalist style, I wouldn't quit!
Abaddon
Deity
If it were time, id say paused.
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