Savinien

Re: Bloodstone + Dark Tower So, as you're currently my only reader... Any thoughts about AiA, or this campaign setting in general? I did drop the other player. If you're interested in playing in the Grassea area, I might be convinced to let you play.

Re: Adventuring company name Yes. What was decided? Hob's Horde?

Re: Telling YOU about the RCU! Here it is, my final story as a GM in the RCU. I later created a 'twisted' alternate Earth RCU on Hero Central, but this was my last game. Demolition's player continued to push for his vision of the character and I kept trying to hold on to mine. During what should have been 'the best session ever', we got into an ugly argument and I severed my GMing reins, forever ending my association with the Triumvirate. I continued to play in the RCU, but decided not to GM again. And the Zombies Come Marching In We return to our team poised along the Canal of Houston’s Port Authority. After a series of crimes and events seemingly unrelated, Ion Storm has recently been attacked by Devilfish, Hydronaut, and three zombie-like soldiers. As Demolition was regaining the use of his destroyed hand and aiding the downed Ion Storm, the remaining zombie attempted escape in an air-car piloted by Sound Knaves. Sentinel thwarted the escape by launching his shield into the propulsion unit of the air-car and dropping it into the Canal. Saving the two Sound Knaves, Sentinel is joined by his team-mates and they discover the zombie is missing from the sinking wreckage! Thinking quickly, Ion Storm grabs up Demolition and moves him along the canal as the later uses his atomic vision to search the darkened waters for the missing zombie. Eventually, the two find a hidden hatch at the canal bottom. Once more rejoined by Sentinel, the team enters the hatch and goes about investigating this strange tunnel. More than once the team is reminded of a similar corridor near the lair of Hydronaut and Devilfish that had been found months before. Following the dank tunnel, Eclipse finds themselves in the Houston Sub-Sewer, a mass of tunnels resting far below the Houston Underground and transit system. A long search seems to be ending in no avail when Ion Storm suddenly spots an anomoly among the sewer shunts. Demolitoin, using his new found power of changing structures at the atomic level finds egress into the system without tipping off any of the security measures. After bypassing more security, the team finds itself in a strange underground motor-pool, housing more of the old military air-cars. Above the team, voices can be heard, apparently belonging to the as yet, unseen Necron, Scientist of Sound, Decibel, and a group known as the Warriors of the Confederacy. Applying stealthy measures, the team moves up into the structure, an abondonded food processing plant known as, Cornen Foods. Demolition’s recon found the place to be a flurry of activity with over a dozen agents of the various villians. A sudden sound from deeper in the building alerts Decibel and Sound Knaves are dispatched to investigate. On their way, they stroll directly past the hidden Ecplise, kicking off a massive battle. During this immense conflageration, Decibel and his Sound Knaves, Necron and his ‘Grey Death Legion, and a number of the Warriors of the Confederacy were defeated. The loud noise was found to be a new super-hero unkown to Eclipse as Stronghold. The later was frozen in a block of ice by Necron as the mad genius unleashed his most potent creation. It seems the Furor of Frigidity had used his necromantic science on the long dead vigilante once known as Pariah. This was the body reported stolen by Valhalla, the meta-morgue in New York. Ion Storm was familiar with the late vigilante from his old team, Justice Squadron. The climitac battle among the icy interior of Cornen Foods was morgue-like as the four heroes did battle with the Risen Pariah. Finally, with a final impact of Sentinel’s shield, the dark figure fell from Ion Storm’s hovering form, seemingly defeated. Almost instantly, the unconcious figure, now sparking from the unit attached to his spinal cord, was engulfed by an orb of blackness. Fearing an attempt at recuparation or escape, Sentinel and Demolition both attempt to attack the ‘globe’. Sentinel’s shield disappears within the darkness as Demolition dives, intangible from an air-car he’d brought up from the motorpool below. Both disappear into the blackened orb, while it disolves into nothingness. No shield, no corpse, and no Demolition left in its wake. GM Notes: Even though this was supposed to be the end of this arc (and that dreadful year long cliff-hanger), the players were left with an even stranger ending. Though, they finally captured many villians (only Ghoul escaped this time), Demolition and Sentinel’s Ditanium shield was lost.

Re: Telling YOU about the RCU! Getting this thing going with Story arc #1 Issue #6 of the Eclipse campaign I ran in the RCU: Months had passed, with only occasional breaks in the monotony, since the Storm and the situation brought on by, “The Omnisphere”. The Champions of Justice, a few other teams, and solo super-heroes involved had reported on it with a pseudo-believable explanation. Criminality attempts had continued, rarely succesfull under the watchful eye of Houston’s own super-team, ECLIPSE. Ion Storm flies high above the black streak of the river, a short distance from the Port Authority. His thoughts are of his job and a possible promotion to Detective within the HPD. Sharp eyes pierce the murk of the night as he glances towards an unimpressive warehouse. Ever since that situation that introduced he and his teammates to Ghoul and El Vengaza, he’d grown an interest in Detective work and had been working towards a transfer and promotion. As the patrol goes on, we should take a peek at the rest of the team, and leave Ion Storm to his thoughts. Back at the Observatory, Sentinel and Demolition discuss the merits of contemporary television and the undeniable fact of nothing ever being on, regardless of the number of channels. Words turn to Survivor and the possibility of an advent of Meta-Survivor... But, where is Mass Master? Let us take our scope down I-6 and towards the residence of Robert Carter. The reader’s camera pans through the front door, down the hall, and into the dining room. The dining table is set with two places of a meal long finished. Fine china settings, an bucket of ice containing a partial bottle of Chardonnay, and two semi-filled wine glasses, one marked with red lipstick rest errantly upon the table’s surface. But, where is Bob? The camera moves into the living room and down the hall. When the sound of moaning is picked up on the mic and the camera pauses. A deep baritone can be heard from the narrator, “It seems Mr. Carter is busy with his love Samantha and can’t be interrupted for the majority of this Eclipse write-up. He’s busy and his team mates are aware of his current situation. Barring the nigh-destruction of Houston, he is not to be disturbed.” Back along the Warehouse district, Ion Storm has espied an individual racing along the waterway on a Jet-Ski. The suspect continues his flight along the snaking length of the river. Making a quick decision, Ion Storm dives towards the civilian in an effort to scoop him off the water vehicle. Just as he’s beginning to ascend once more and the engine of the Jet-Ski kicks off, the familiar torso’s of Hydronaut and Devilfish erupt from the wake broken surface of the Bayou. Intuition or battle-honed reflexes warn Ion Storm of the impending attack just as the villains fire their weapons on him and our hero envelopes the civilian with his own body to protect him from their treacherous attacks. Surviving the blast of Devilfish and watching as Hydronaut's Volt Torpedo impacts harmlessly against the opposite bank, Ion Storm takes to the air to keep the villains in sight, await his team-mates, and stay out of range from the sea-antagonists derailed ambush. A few minutes later, Sentinel and Demolition arrive on the scene. As Ion Storm watches, Hydronaut and Devilfish flee into a nearby warehouse. The other two heroes take the unwitting civilian into custody learning en route of a duplicitous scenario concocted by the two villains. When the two Eclipsers return to the scene, a quiet discussion ensues and Demolition is sent into the warehouse for recognizance. The warehouse is found to be a storage facility for paper. One side of the building is row upon row of stacked paper rolls. The opposite side is a detachment of mezzanined office areas. Between these sections is docking bay for trucks and the vehicles used for loading and unloading the rolls. Hydronaut and Devilfish have stationed themselves opposite the dock doors and three para-militants armed with high-technology weapons are fanned across the mezzanine. All have bored their sights on the docking doors the villains used to enter the building. Armed with this information, Eclipse plans a detailed strike against the ignorant ambushers. Using his transformation powers, Demolition makes a new door among the paper rolls. All three are supposed to stealthily move into position to fire on the armored villains, leaving the para-militants for strikes after the meta-villains have been subdued. The best laid plans, often go astray during execution. Even though flying, Ion Storm creates enough of a clatter to warn of impending doom. Demolition fires a powerful explosion amidst the would-be ambushers, flinging them to each side and toppling one of the militants above. Ion Storm unleashes an ionic blast powerful enough to propel Hydronaut through two walls and dropping him unmoving outside of the building. Sentinel engages Devilfish in melee while the three militants drop grenades and high-powered, fully automatic bullets on Ion Storm and Demolition. During the barrage, Ion Storm is eventually downed and Demolition is riddled with bleeding wounds. Eventually, our heroes destroy the militants weapons, hoping to render them harmless. Closer inspection reveals something unnatural about the militants and they are revealed as animate zombies, seemingly awakened by unheretofore known super-technology. The zombies combat abilities are impressive and enhanced by paranormal strength. The ensuing battle comes to a climactic end when Sentinel moves to interpose himself between coordinated attacks meant for a winded Ion Storm. The move allows Ion Storm to blast Hydronaut out of an exit not far from Devilfish’s. Ion Storm notices the two nautical villains moving to make their escape, moves to stop them, and is knocked unconscious just after dropping Hydronaut once more. Fortunately, Sentinel recognizes the impending doom of his team-mate, launches his Ditanium shield through one of the impromptu exits made by Ion Storm, and drops Devilfish before he can harm the helpless Ion Storm. The two zombies Sentinel was engaged with take the opportunity to escape, busting from the warehouse through the dock doors. Up on the mezzanine, bleeding profusely, Demolition eventually blasts the zombie soldier through the wall and down fifteen feet to the ground below. Unaware of the remaining zombies’ escape attempts, James Black sinks into a well deserved rest and attempts to heal himself with his powers. Running outside, Sentinel is surprised to see two Soundknaves in an air car attempting to evacuate the zombie soldiers. One of the Soundknaves turns his Sonic Doom on Sentinel and blasts him back into the warehouse as the air car begins to rise and make its escape. Ion Storm, awake once more, finished with the coup de grace to Hydronaut and the zombie outside, moves towards the opposite side of the building in an attempt to halt the fleeing air car. Sentinel returns to the scene and launches his shield through the Houston night. Upwards it soars, twinkling stars reflecting from its unblemished surface, it clangs off of the propulsion unit on the bottom side of the air car. Soundknaves' screams are cut short as the air car plummets into the icy depths of the river. Acting quickly, Ion Storm fishes out the unconscious Soundknaves, but, the zombie soldiers are nowhere to be found. U sing his atomic vision and the aid of his team-mate, Ion Storm, Demolition does a quick recognizance of the river bed, searching for the missing zombies. Sentinel revives the two Soundknaves and attempts to interrogate them. The heroes find a tunnel within the river bed and learn of the existence of a mastermind behind a few, previously believed to be unrelated incidents named, Necron. “If this tunnel leads to more of these zombie soldiers,” Sentinel pauses, as he fills Demolition and Ion Storm in on the information he learned from the Knaves, “We’ll have our work cut out for us.” Demolition nods, “I know Mass Master didn’t want to be disturbed, but, I think we might need his help.” Ion Storm glances back into the smoking wreckage of the paper warehouse, “Yeah him and anybody else in the area… This was a set-up to the big finale of the first sotry arc. It was also where I was beginning to get annoyed with the player of Demolition. In my eyes, Eclipse was a certain type of group filling a particular niche in the RCU. The direction he continued to push Demolition in seemed counter-intuitive for Eclipse and the way I saw Demolition. I was to learn that it would only get worse.

Re: Online Hero Games?? Play by post is much more prevelant than chat. Though, there is functioning chat with die roller capability.

Re: Bloodstone + Dark Tower Relax. I'll get to it. This week. My creative juices are once more returning to form. Sorry about the wait, sweet pea.

Re: Bloodstone + Dark Tower Here's a bit of an update: We still haven't had an opportunity to play the third session of the first chapter of the Up River campaign, but I've posted a campaign thread for my Hero Central game with Martin von Remmen played by Mastermind. I'm hoping to get the other game moving again as I miss FTF. http://www.herogames.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1401852#post1401852

The Lonely Isle Nearly an hour later, von Remmen was winded, placing the last rock over a guide wire along a barren bit of stone. A ridge kept some of the wind from the Straits away and would hopefully protect the small craft. While he wasn't sure what awaited him upon the Lonely Isle, there was no sense in letting his means of escape drift away. The ridge line was enough that some vegetation had grown, sparse at first but quickly blooming into a veritable wood. The ridge must encircle the island, leaving a bowl of wilderness upon the harsh seeming Island. The One God worked in mysterious ways, to be certain and this discovery was no different. Martin had spotted the crennelations of a spire within the center of the Island. Though no trails seemed readily visible to him, his goal was not invisible. Martin stares at the primeval forest, trying to to pierce its dark green recesses. He soon gives up, realizing that he cannot penetrate its gloom. Drawing his saber and readying a pistol, the blunderbuss strung over his shoulder, he moves from the beach into the forest, giving one last glance towards the spire at the center to get his bearings. Once inside, Martin finds it hard going, having to holster his pistol on several occasions to use a free hand to pull himself over fallen, moss-covered logs. Oddly, and eerily the forest is quiet. He is certain that there are birds and monkeys, but the usual chatter is absent. Only the wind rushing through the old growth, and even that, near gale force outside the forest, is subdued. He tries to gauge the time, but even that seems vague and confusing here. Having no trail and having to go around undergrowth, he loses track of his paces several times and has to climb a tree now and again to regain his bearing. Some time later....the hair on the back of his neck stands on edge and Martin instinctively turns around, but sees nothing. He moves forward again and then stops suddenly, and hears the creaking sound, the rustling of brush, the snap of a twig! Martin picks up the pace. He was being followed.... The Ancient Wood The feeling of age, heavy scent in the air, is oppressive to the Puritan. He knows little of such things, but still feels certain the thick moss and cycle of life and death within the wood has gone on for centuries. Well before the zealot swept Aerth with his Purge of sword and fire. Perhaps even before Man himself strode land and swam Lakes, but who could know but the One God himself? Who indeed. Trying to gauge his path and even whereabouts within the wood was difficult. Old trees stretched skyward laden with branch and canopy of leaves. The ground underfoot was rife with the fallen foliage, beaten out by brethren hungry for a touch of sun, or drop of water. The sound of a misplaced step, the scuff of boot or paw, along fallen timber, and the rustle of leaves betrayed the presence of something else. And, von Remmen responded, walking faster, ducking skewed trunk and low-hanging leaf alike. The predator, if that is what THEY were responded, moving faster as well. Martin knew they were Legion from simultaneous rustle, scuff, and snap. He caught glimpses of fleet figures, moving about the branches or shifting from trunk to trunk at flank and rear. A bright clearing seemed visible ahead, a welcome sight of yellowish light as opposed to the omnipresent shadowy green. Yet, it was as if the Wood itself wanted the Puritan to stay, snagging his Blacks with thorny appendages and attempting to sweep his wide-brimmed hat from his head. As Martin closed the tenacious foliage seemed ever more willfull, even as he lashed out with his sabre... Cutting furiously as the branches seemed to close in on him, the Puritan muttered a quick prayer to the One God. He took the risk to glance over his shoulder not expecting to see anything and hoping that whatever enemy pursued him was not hot on his heels. But the light promised hope, or at least a chance to stand and fight. Making it there he whipped around pulling out his pistol and leveling it at the entrance to the green and gloom. "Come out and face me now!" The shout seemed to echo through the trees breaking the eerie silence. As the sudden sound faded though, the forest continued to mock him with its unnatural silence. A jumble of rubble, jutting haphazardly from thatchy moss and stringing vines, created a maze of tumbled natural mounds. At one edge of this forlorn clearing stands von Remmen, bits of branch and thorn still falling from his clothing as he whirls back towards the mocking silence of the ancient wood. Death's eye staring from his hand in the form of his Eastlake Pistola. A breath of wind rustles across the tree-line and it shifts in irritation. A blinking moment stretches to a heady breath, then two and now ten. Perhaps, it was only his imagination after all. Martin takes a deep breath scanning the edge of the trees and slowly rotating around to see what is behind him and then back to the front. He issues a throaty growl, trusting his earlier instincts and confounded by the sudden quiet. "What trickery is this? Show yourselves!" he calls out again balancing on the balls of his feet and adjusting the grip on both his pistola and saber. Turning about, von Remmen begins to notice a few things. The jutting mounds take on a seeming shape, a familiar surrounds. It isn't a maze, but more like a small village. The weather beaten rock, are huts of piled stone, standing for centuries, possibly millenia, seeming undisturbed. Even the clearing takes on a semblance of civilization, it appears to be circular with a stretch of cleared area heading deeping into the island. The treeline on either side kept at bay by something unseen, something unnatural. And then, just as the Puritan turns back they are upon him. Sweeping from the treeline like hornets from a disturbed nest. They are short, even more so than the dark-skinned Muruudians from the Grassea, or the lighter Taherians from the Pomarj. And greenish, with flat brows and rows of teeth, filed or naturally sharp. Their mouths opened and shut as they swarmed forward, with nary a sound grass pushed away from them with the swiftness of their charge.

Setting the Scene Sailing the Tri-Lakes Wind whistled about the Puritan, grabbing his blacks and flapping them about his lithe frame with wild abandon. The Tally Ho was whipping amid the Dire Straits, her Captain standing near bellowing orders as waves crashed over the sides of the small Pinnace. "And what sort of business do you have on the Lonely Isle von Remmen? Is it enough to kill us all?!" Captain Gensai's voice bore a Westlake accent and his left eye tended to slowly drift away, out of focus as if the Man had lost interest. Martin does not look at the captain and answers the first question what he thinks is a monotone. "Looking for someone. Always looking. " At the second question, he turns to face him, "Not unless you follow me ashore. " And of course, the crew would. Their curiosity would get the best of them, or they'd see a wild pig for roasting, and their baser needs would undermine their better sense. Martin sought a man. The man purportedly was a hermit who lived on the isle. The man tales said, could predict the future. Legends also said that there was a curse. No one ever returned from the island, and that the place was haunted. But what else was new? Every single isolated island had some sort of horrible tale told in taverns and aboard ships in the various ports along the Lakes and the oceans. Martin chuckles. Superstition instead of Faith still dominated the minds of men. The Dire Straits were a forlorn place. They were mid South Lake, far enough from any shore and the locks that allows ships travel between the lakes to make them non-consequential. The fact that wind blew down along the lake and echoed along the strait with the heavy hand of a tempest made the locale even less appealing. But, none of that stopped the indomitable will of the Pure, Martin von Remmen. The Oracle of Lonely Isle was Martin's only chance. And, no curse would keep him from his quarry. It hadn't stopped him before. The Captain's voice cut over the wind and through the Lakesman's ponderings, "Three days, Puritan. I give you three days before the Tally Ho reels anchor and leaves this God forsaken place." "If I am not back in two, then count me as one already dead," snarls the Puritan He stares back at the waves and then spots the spit of land in the distance, released briefly by a fog courtesy of the tempet-inspired wind at their backs. "Captain. The island. I'll need some extra powder, and maybe a musket." Marting whips around, his cloak nearly slapping the captain in the face, and heads amidships towards the ladder that would take him into the bowels of the ship. He nods to the crewmen that he passes en route to collect the rest of his gear. Any response from the Captian is quickly lost to the wind's howl as Martin von Remmen turns to head down into his cabin. It is a matter of moments before he is back on the deck. "Take this blunderbuss if you'll have it then," Gensai says in his dogerel accent not offering any powder. Then, he is over the side and making his way down the shifting rope ladder. His wool cloak is a heavy, sodden burden, similar to that which his Faith brings him. As with his Faith, he shoulders the Black of the Cloak willfully as he adjusts himself in the small dinghy. A voice reaches him over the wailing wind, his only companion, "Puritan. Powder from the stores. May the One God walk with you!" The dropping horn twirled on the jetties swirling about the Tally Ho. Still Remmen caught it and deftly tucked it within his sodden woolens.

Okay, I got a wild hair and decided to post ANOTHER campaign write-up. This game is play by post at Hero Central and uses a haxored version of PDQ discussed here: http://www.herogames.com/forums/showthread.php?t=56614 More information concerning the Aerth/Age of Reason setting can be found here: http://www.herogames.com/forums/showthread.php?t=44510 This is a solo campaign with a Solomon Kane clone in Aerth played by Mastermind. His real story is called Monkey Men of Malaroteph and was first mentioned here: http://www.herogames.com/forums/showpost.php?p=1285614&postcount=85 But, in his recent battle with some Tsoth, he took damage and according to PDQ rules, depending on what Quality he places the damage to another story hook is created. He chose Sailor, realizing it wasn't likely to come up in Taheria (which is a large city in the midst of a massive desert.) I chose to Scheherazade this choice and fill in some of the missing background. These are predominately copy/pastes of our posts word for word. Enjoy and feel free to comment. (and rep!)

Re: Longest Running Thread EVER On the Prowl:

Re: Etrigan's Arts That would be Juggernaut?

Re: Poetry/clue help Sounds interesting. I shall ponder and produce, fortwith.

Re: Adventuring company name Courageous Creature Capturers The Dauntless Alliance Vaunted Vanquishers Relentless Tide Resolute Companions Gallant Six

Re: Poetry/clue help We should do more of these.

Re: Longest Running Thread EVER And, cause I got your attention (and I'm an attention whore), here is me killing with said WMD:

Re: Longest Running Thread EVER Thanks guys. This is my current whip:

Re: Longest Running Thread EVER What? We won? 1st Place:

Re: Poetry/clue help Are they all finished? I would have done some. *grumble*

Re: What cities do you use in your game? Waterdeep? Curufea has New Crobuzon somewhere up here. Lankhmar itself? A lot of Middle Earth stuff covers Osgiliath, Minas Tirith, Bree, and some of the others.

Re: Pulp Hero Resources Fixed.

Re: [CAMPAIGN]Annals of the Mask UPDATE The foursome piles into the Jalopy (Roger Mack's fine tuned, if a bit ugly) car and head to McDunnough's estate. It is late and the hilly territory south of the city is home to rumrunners and far too may mafioso trying to circumvent the Prohibition Act. The Jalopy's head lamps find few other nightriders and eventually finds itself slowing for a covered bridge amongst the hilly territories. The Blue Falcon exits with Tony Lee keeping a sharp lookout. A bit of investigation finds a car has smashed through one side of the bridge and fallen nearly 100' down into a steep ravine. Our heroes decide to push onward, hoping against hope the Alabaster Tiger hadn't been in that car. A few more curves and our heroes turn into a decent sized spread sprawled across a narrow valley almost a mile long. On one side is a modest mansion and the other holds a large sturdy barn butting up against one of the hills. Mack and Austin examine the long level area, trying to discern whether or not this could be an aeroplane landing strip while Gregory and An'Lung move towards the barn. The second group quickly discerns it is more hangar than barn and a gunfight recently took place here, more than one body lumped in its own life-blood. An eerie, heavy thrumming beings to make itself known. The duo in the hangar fear it may be some sort of generator. Those outside quickly know better when a massive airship looms overhead, hidden from sight by the high hills on one side! The ship isn't alone, nearly a dozen motorcycles baring machine-gun toting sidecars careen into sight! Roger and Williams leap into the Jalopy, presumably trying to draw off the cyclists while a mechanically amplified voice calls for the Blue Falcon's surrender! The cycles speed off after the Jalopy towards the opposite end of the strip, Mack quickly realizing there is no escape and the valley dead ends. All the while, the sidecar gunners are spitting deadly lead into and all around the motoring car. Mack tries a daring move and is gunned down, only his steel-plated jacket and helmet saving his life*. Williams sees little hope, but pulls Mack out of the gunfire and tries to pick off the cyclists. But in the end, the overwhelming bludgeon the valiant war veteran into submission. He knows though, he did his best to give Tony and the Blue Falcon what time he could. Tony did take the time to peek outside and saw the massive ship and the motorcycles bearing down on the other two, but he could do little other than fire a single shot from the handgun he'd take from thugs of the Iron Fist. The shot cost him though as a few of the two-wheeled gunners headed towards the hangar. Fortunately, the Blue Falcon had found a lantern and not so fortunately, the missing McDunnough. He'd been shot down against the back wall, seemingly trying to escape through a hidden door bearing the sigil of the Veiled Society. * - The player of Roger Mack decided the game wasn't Pulp and quit at this scene. I was fine with it, as I'd gotten the feeling we had different perceptions for some time. This also drove home the point that AotM might not be Pulp adventure in some people's eyes.

Re: Malazan Books of the Fallen HERO I am now reading teh second book, Deadhouse Gates. I'm horribly confused. These things are wonderfully, horribly hard to follow with any length of time between volumes and I think this excerpt from a review says it best: Erikson is a master of lost and forgotten epochs, a weaver of ancient epics on a scale that would approach absurdity if it wasn't so much fun. His time span ranges over hundreds of thousands of years. Races (both human and nonhuman), cultures, empires and even gods rise and fall. Vast struggles range across multiple continents and dimensions of time and space. There are so many fragments of myth, so many hints of back-story unending, and so little explained, that it is all the reader can do to comprehend what is going on, to hang on to the narrative as if clinging by one hand to the underbelly of a flying dragon. (And yes, there are dragons, and magic swords, and quests, too. But not a whole lot of teenagers.)

Re: Longest Running Thread EVER I think I got food poisoning from bottled water.

Re: Longest Running Thread EVER Been a week. Must be time for some more paintball pics: