Poll: The Great Escapist Civil War

[Zacharine]

PC Dynasty.

I am the dark shadow of midnight, sneaking past your 2-dimensional guard-routes. Your arcane magics fail in front of my mastery over C++ and Oberon-7 and the borderline black magics of Visual Basic. Your secrets are mine to find and make my own. Whatever is good in your hardware, I can learn from and adapt to myself on the fly.

Your pitiful QTE-abilities are outshined by my macros and infinitely reprogrammable quick-keys. My mouse is fast and accurate, my keyboard never far. Bow before me, for I am servant of the true Dynasty.

Or do you delude yourself, do you choose to believe the lie that you can out-micro ME?

 

[Arkhangelsk]

I am related to all tribes. So I guess I'm somewhat of an outcast.

 

[000Ronald]

I am related to all tribes. So I guess I'm somewhat of an outcast.

You could join my group, if you want. I have a bar, I just haven't walked into it yet...

 

[Erja_Perttu]

I throw my lot to the Playstation tribe. With the strength gained from lifting the heaviest console of all, I shall smash the invaders!

 

[wordsmith]

I am from the PC Dynasty, but I recognise the one truth.

Alone, the PC Dynasty cannot defeat the scourge
Alone, the Playstation Tribe cannot defeat the scourge
Alone, the Xbox Clan cannot defeat the scourge.
As gamers, we defeated the scourge.

 

[Khedive Rex]

They wandered alone. No service they could render or deal they could broker ever served the whims of those who watched them pass, no genuflect could break the stigmata. They were gypsys. Their culture was an oral traditon no outsider could comprehend. Thousands of stories of conquest, horror, degredation, redeption and the thrill of life lived beyond the bounds of mortal reality coursed through their veins and gave them power. They knew a past some men could only dream of. They'd seen futures no man would ever forget. And they drifted through the present, shunned. It was said they played their games without any machine, needing only the company of their fellows and eldritch stones with strange numbering. And when they stood united entire worlds could be formed and wasted in an instant.

Never before had the Role Craftsmen cared for politics. They were too few, far too few, the troubles of the many were not their troubles. More so, they lived in a dream that was far too interesting to allow petty things like tributes to Game Icons and land wars to interrupt the story. But now ... the story ... lived outside their minds. Now the story was unfolding around them. Factions arming themselves for control of the country, great crusades for blood honor and respect, it was as the elders had said so many times. But today, their words rang true. The stories were true.

Which meant that heros were called for. The Role Craftsmen selected their brightest, sharpest and most literate. A good bit of prose can change the course of a war. When that doesn't work, a well placed hammer does the job fine.

 

[Octorok]

High Monk Birras,

By the gentle glow of the moonlight and the wispy flickering of this candle flame, I have seen your message and understood. As you know, I was one of the last members of the order to finally break and it saddens me greatly to see such words of violence by your hand, but I see that it must be done. There are 12 Monks of stout heart and outstanding records that can assist in our mission, although I confess that I will not force any Monk to go against their will.

I also regret the need to fight against an established Government, here on the Escapist, however we must make our stand for the old ways. We can not allow these hordes to roam unbidden, and sanctioned by the leaders we once knew and loved. Corrupted in their war and lust to keep power, they have destroyed the holiest of sanctuaries. By Our Lord Schmoopy, I swear that I will succeed in my mission, although you can be certain that many of our dwindling order will die in this attempt.

I must raise with you the point that many of my best fighters believe that small hit and runs are still our best chance, however I agree that the world has become complacent with our Order. We must make a ripple, and though I may myself survive, we will engage the Government guards and seize the building. From there you can be sure we will spread the message of our Order, before our final stand against the Black Guards, or the Moderators, whichever should arrive first.

Hail Schmoopy and the Mighty Kobolds,

Monk PK.

 

[Labyrinth]

The total lack of forthcoming competition left LaCoil a tad disappointed. She skewered the earth with her BanSword, Edledhiaon, leaning upon it and casting a disgruntled eye across the scarred landscape. So many people to fight. So few willing to risk it, an unfortunate result of her overly powerful weapons.

Snapping her fingers tore a hole in the fabric of reality big enough for a Cthulhuian Cafe Special[footnote]6 shot Ristretto with extra Metal[/footnote] to be tentacled through along with that morning's cryptic crossword.

"Money's starting to come through in the Cafe. Most of it's on you and the Mod Squad, though some people are going for the PC Dynasty for their survival rate," the Old One hissed through the rift.
"Yeah, well I fully expect everyone to chicken out of fighting me. They usually do. Except for some truly idiotic trolls," she replied between sips.
"Speaking of, I think you've got a visitor."

LaCoil snapped her head up to glare. A troll, and a particularly vile one from the look of the spam still clinging to its jowls.

"You're interrupting my damn coffee."

To her surprise the creature simply laughed. Or had a snorting fit due to an unfortunate nasal structure it was so difficult to tell. It spoke in memes and chatspeak which were like having bugs crawling in her ears for the woman listen to. The noise itched, and the grammar was absolutely horrible. She would've backhanded it with an English textbook had she had one to hand. In an attempt to make it speak properly she drew Edledhiaon across the things throat to a spray of pixels. It's form started to collapse in on itself, banned.

Sitting back down, LaCoil finished her luke-warm coffee then started singing to herself as the troll army edged close in an attempt to see what had happened to their associate. Not much was left once the Ban broke down the individual lines of code and swept them away to the dark recesses of the net.

"For he who trolleth a thread on this forum, may his mouse become a serpent in his hand and rend him. May he be struck by palsy and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain, crying aloud for mercy and let there be no relief until he sink into disillution. Let worms gnaw his entrails in token of the worm that dieth not and, when at last he go to his final punishment, may the ache of a permaban consume him for ever and aye!" she spat at the uncouth horde. Edledhiaon glowed red in the presence of the trolls, already smeared with their fresh code. Many more would face her wrath.

 

[Scobie]

DELETED

 

[Khedive Rex]

A NEW CHALLENGER ARRIVES:

A primal shout physically burned the ground in large rippling waves of heat and energy like an ocean made of fire made of sound. The noise shook the earth and scalded plants and aroused women and terrified computers into finally working the way they were Fucking supposed to. And the source of the cataclysmic cacaphony neared with a quickned drum beat of pounding footsteps as he sprinted cross the arid plains.

Khedive Rex took his place on the scene. Which is to say, he found the center and scaled an abnormally large pine tree. With cold experience of ages he surveyed the scene, discerening carefully where the fight was brewing and from whence he could smote the most non-believers.

... He was very dissappointed.

"Bugger all. I ran for fourty two days to get here! Shouting for most of it I'll have you know. And you lot are still arguing about what factions you represent?! No. No, fuck you all. I'm sitting down. I need a drink."

And so Khedive Rex did jump from his pine tree, make a tiny yowling noise at the pain in his legs and stalk away to the nearest bar.

 

[000Ronald]

"Y'know, it bothers me that everyone seems to be chosing their own side." The Logician said. "Would't it be more effective to work together to acheve a common goal?"

The Logician waited patienly for a response. The silence was deafaning. "I miss Jerry..." Loggy said quietly, and began to weep.

(Four MOTHERFUCKING hours later) The Logician picked himself up and dusted himself off, having finished his weeping fit. Snapping his finger, he brought a bar into existence (current base of operations for The Kingdom of Croshaw) and walked in. "Ah, home, sweet home. Barkeep, fetch me a coke."

The Logician sat down, taking a deep breath. Yeah, with the force-fields in place, and the bar itself being made of indestructable space diamonds, he could stand being here for-

"Hey, Loggy." Khedive Rex said, waving from across the room.

"Hey, Rex." Loggy replied, taking a sip from his coke. He almost immediately did a spit take. "Rex? How the hell did you get in here, I just made this place!"

 

[Grayjack]

I'd be in the Mod Squad. I'm not a mod, but I fully support them and their cause (except when they make mistakes...). And no, I'm not just saying that because I want to be part of the Red Guard.

Although, admittedly, I do really want to join the Red Guard anyway...

Ask if you can join. They might accept you.

OT: I'm conflicted between the Playstation Tribe and the Ancient Order of Eight.

 

[TheNamlessGuy]

DELETED

 

[legion431]

CROSHAW KINGDOM FTW!

even though I accidentally clicked the box clan, the 2nd best one.

 

[TheRightToArmBears]

I dunno.


Can I just be a civilian? Just keep the noise down, and keep of my lawn.

 

[ShakerSilver]

Hm... I'm curious about this "Order of Eight"

What would fit someone who is a Hardcore gamer, has played on many a console, and treats each one with the same respect as the other?

Edit: I'm also pretty retro.

 

[Khedive Rex]

The Logician sat down, taking a deep breath. Yeah, with the force-fields in place, and the bar itself being made of indestructable space diamonds, he could stand being here for-

"Hey, Loggy." Khedive Rex said, waving from across the room.

"Hey, Rex." Loggy replied, taking a sip from his coke. He almost immediately did a spit take. "Rex? How the hell did you get in here, I just made this place!"

"Oh well thats quite the warm welcome. 'Oh. Rex. Good to see you, it's been so long, how the hell are you in the bar I just snapped into existence?' Cold man. Cold. Do you have aspirin?"

Loggy checked his pockets, shaking his head. "This is highly illogical." He said producing a small bottle from a fold in his dark robes. He proffered it to Rex who accepted it graciously.

"Determination and all that, we've been through this one Loggy. Thanks by the way, my head is killing me. I've been shouting most of the day. Not that normal stuff either, no, fire shouts. Do you have any idea how draining that is?"

"Of course I do! I taught you that!" The Logician shouted incredulously.

"Well, than you know why I need aspirin." Rex said reaching for a cup of coffee. "So, whats the news, how you been? Who you working for these days? Or are you freelancing?"