A March For War

[jamesb 218]

Iler laughs. He walks around, gathering up weapons.

"I don't know about you guys, but i'm helping the GM village."

[Lago 2572]

Lagomorphia disappears into the LM Laboratory of Blue Smoke and Explosions. The sound of grinding gears and sawn wood is clearly audible, then, in a harsh electronic voice:

"KRUG-A-ZORD REA-DY."
 

[Ned Lud 1260]

(I ******* love you meanking. I've wanted to see this go down for some time now.)

[Major Dom 1297]

That's what GM Aboose is for. :P

A lone figure strides up to the gates of Kal'Azgoth, a small cart following behind him. Two dwarves step to bar his way. He lowers his hood, and says to them "Got lore for that air?"

The two dwarven guards look at him in confusion, then discover they're asphixiating.

 

The figure strides down the hall of Kal'Azgoth, various completely innocent and harmless items shrivelling into Non-Lore-Approvedness as he passes. He walks up to a throne and bows before Grand King, ettiquette must be obeyed, after all.

 

"Grand King Thorin Grandaxe, you find yourself at war with creatures from beyond the Fourth Wall."

"Wuzza fourth wall?"

The figure points at the inside of the computer screen.

 

"Um, currently unnamed figure, that's a pillar," says the Grand King.

 

"You cannot see it for it is not part of your world, any more than you can see the veil to the Void from which magic comes. It is the barrier to the realm of OOC."

 

Thorin calls his guards over to arrest the figure. What happens next is far too edgy to describe, but the guards are gone, Thorin's jaw has dropped to several floors below and the figure is surrounded by 500 dead butterflies and a very much alive kitten.

 

"T'e 'ell did yer just do?"

"I used the Powers of OOC. With them I can break all physical laws. Do you remember August Flay? Karl Frostbeard? Mirtok DeNurem?"

"They're all dead guys."

"But first they were suddenly vanished guys, until the universe explained away their disappearances with deaths. OOC bleeds into our world all the time. It grants people superhuman "anime" abilities and then makes people stand still during fights while OOC bickers with itself. It makes orc heads fill with puppies and kittens when they try to fight in the Cloud Temple. Wait, no, I've fixed that last one, haven't I? Paxdire Aura or something, although I swear that was only Asulon...

Anyway, back on track, these 'GMs' come from across the Fourth Wall. They have the full power of OOC, as I do, although to a much greater extent. They defy all the physical forces of the universe. You and I know that there is no carbarum in the world and Iron Golems are impossible, yet their vault is full of carbarum blocks and guarded by iron golems. Invade them directly and your men will die under a hailstorm of chickens."

"So what do we duh?"

"How you fight them is simple. You make them..."

LORE COMPLIANT!

 

Grand King Thorin Grandaxe stares up at the rainbow text that has appeared above him, shuddering in horror at the soul-destructive power of Comic Sans. He turns to the figure, considers his words carefully, and then says:

 

"What t'e fek are yer on about?"

 

"It's quite simple. Destroy all the GM houses and signs and the rollercoaster (But not the graveyard! The graveyard's awesome!), all signs with "GM" on them, everything that proves the village exists in OOC. Then the village will return IC, that is to say, back into your world, and the GMs will return to the OOC realm. All that will be left is a tavern with anonmalous economic output. Then you all get drunk in the tavern and go home.

If you try to attack the village like you would an orc settlement, then you will be blown to pieces."

 

Thorin is quiet for a moment. Then he says, "How do ye know all of this?"

The figure upends the cart, and a few flowerpots and the head of Cakeman tumble onto the floor.

 

"Because I'm from over the Fourth Wall too."

The figure freezes for a moment, then the words "Lagomorphia has logged out" are plastered unseen across Thorin's vision.

 

 

[[Damnit Lago, you win the internet. Snowshovel begrudgingly hands over all of his internets.]]

[Heff 2460]

((Lago... My mind is blown))

[Lark 2227]

((I want to be a Lore Master now so I can be as cool as Lago))

[CloakandDagger 134]

As stated before, somehow GM's need to be "stripped" of all spawned in items prior to the battle beginning; not only would this give them an advantage, but even worse; should the GM die, those items they spawned in are now in the hands of the player.

[Ezo Karasuga 356]

Gestahl reads of this battle.

 

The Intellectual Conservative party of Gallmore, or the "IC" Party wishes to send back the creatures from beyond the fourth wall.  The IC believes in keeping everything in Anthos protected from invaders from beyond the 4th wall.

 

Gestahl turns to another resident of the arcane tower.

 

"Mandru, get my beatin' club. The "IC" is going to go get political."

[Thrym 188]

That's what GM Aboose is for. :P

A lone figure strides up to the gates of Kal'Azgoth, a small cart following behind him. Two dwarves step to bar his way. He lowers his hood, and says to them "Got lore for that air?"

The two dwarven guards look at him in confusion, then discover they're asphixiating.

 

The figure strides down the hall of Kal'Azgoth, various completely innocent and harmless items shrivelling into Non-Lore-Approvedness as he passes. He walks up to a throne and bows before Grand King, ettiquette must be obeyed, after all.

 

"Grand King Thorin Grandaxe, you find yourself at war with creatures from beyond the Fourth Wall."

"Wuzza fourth wall?"

The figure points at the inside of the computer screen.

 

"Um, currently unnamed figure, that's a pillar," says the Grand King.

 

"You cannot see it for it is not part of your world, any more than you can see the veil to the Void from which magic comes. It is the barrier to the realm of OOC."

 

Thorin calls his guards over to arrest the figure. What happens next is far too edgy to describe, but the guards are gone, Thorin's jaw has dropped to several floors below and the figure is surrounded by 500 dead butterflies and a very much alive kitten.

 

"T'e 'ell did yer just do?"

"I used the Powers of OOC. With them I can break all physical laws. Do you remember August Flay? Karl Frostbeard? Mirtok DeNurem?"

"They're all dead guys."

"But first they were suddenly vanished guys, until the universe explained away their disappearances with deaths. OOC bleeds into our world all the time. It grants people superhuman "anime" abilities and then makes people stand still during fights while OOC bickers with itself. It makes orc heads fill with puppies and kittens when they try to fight in the Cloud Temple. Wait, no, I've fixed that last one, haven't I? Paxdire Aura or something, although I swear that was only Asulon...

Anyway, back on track, these 'GMs' come from across the Fourth Wall. They have the full power of OOC, as I do, although to a much greater extent. They defy all the physical forces of the universe. You and I know that there is no carbarum in the world and Iron Golems are impossible, yet their vault is full of carbarum blocks and guarded by iron golems. Invade them directly and your men will die under a hailstorm of chickens."

"So what do we duh?"

"How you fight them is simple. You make them..."

LORE COMPLIANT!

 

Grand King Thorin Grandaxe stares up at the rainbow text that has appeared above him, shuddering in horror at the soul-destructive power of Comic Sans. He turns to the figure, considers his words carefully, and then says:

 

"What t'e fek are yer on about?"

 

"It's quite simple. Destroy all the GM houses and signs and the rollercoaster (But not the graveyard! The graveyard's awesome!), all signs with "GM" on them, everything that proves the village exists in OOC. Then the village will return IC, that is to say, back into your world, and the GMs will return to the OOC realm. All that will be left is a tavern with anonmalous economic output. Then you all get drunk in the tavern and go home.

If you try to attack the village like you would an orc settlement, then you will be blown to pieces."

 

Thorin is quiet for a moment. Then he says, "How do ye know all of this?"

The figure upends the cart, and a few flowerpots and the head of Cakeman tumble onto the floor.

 

"Because I'm from over the Fourth Wall too."

The figure freezes for a moment, then the words "Lagomorphia has logged out" are plastered unseen across Thorin's vision.

 

Thrym, standing near by, has his mind completely and totally blown both IC and OOC. He proceeds to supposedly wander Azgoth in a daze while OOCly he walks away from the computer to make sense of this.

 

 

((Lago, you just managed to invent OOC evocation))

[Heero 4092]

Lagomorphia disappears into the LM Laboratory of Blue Smoke and Explosions. The sound of grinding gears and sawn wood is clearly audible, then, in a harsh electronic voice:

"KRUG-A-ZORD REA-DY."

 

 

 

 

"Krug-a-zord is ready for launch Lago!"

[Supremacy 3361]

 
The sea rose and battered the shore, devouring the rocks only to release them from its watery grasp moments later. Far out to sea sailed a single ship its sails ripped, torn and damaged by time. Its very planks rotting from a long and arduous trip across the great sea.  To the unobservant it was a ghost ship soon to be lead down deep into the watery grasp of the ocean never to return. However, life stirred yet upon the vessel, a crew of ten.
 

 
It was by night their ship ran ashore, burying itself deep into the shallow waters upon a beach near the cloud temple itself. The vessel damaged beyond repair, wherever they had landed it seemed that they were to stay for a while. Slowly they emerged from the ship, trudging from the waves and onto the the beach.
 
It was the bright beacons of the Cloud Temple they saw first and through the rain they marched towards these lights. Yet, like most denizens of Anthos even the monks do not like rain and upon this night were locked deep within their temple. The cries of these strange visitors remained unanswered. They marched onwards coming upon the small village of the GMs. It was there they were welcomed into the villager’s homes, sheltered from the storm which had taken their ship from them.

It was the next morning they were awoken by the sound of hammers upon steel. A sound they, as warriors, had heard many a time before. This was, to them a sign of war. They rose from where they slept and gathered together, enquiring against what threat the villagers prepared, the answer came from one of them known as Geo.
“Uraguan” he said.

 

The leader of the warriors slowly lowered his head and nodded, it was then to this Geo he began to speak:
 
“Great Sir Geo, last night your villagers found our kind amongst your gardens and in their kindness took us in. In our time of need it was the villagers here who saved us, this is a debt we must repay. To leave those in such peril who showed us such generosity is nothing that a people as great as we would ever do. We may number only ten, but we are mighty.”
 
“It is through our travels we have learnt of the great arcane forces which power our world. We have seen beyond the veil of the void to a world which to most forever may remain a mystery. We have known and seen the power of the aspects and angeuls who watch our world from a distance, righting what is wrong.”

“But that is not all which we do. For it is our group who controls those who command the eldritch and magical in your world. We test them to see that they know their power. Those who dare defy what they know and gain more power through the mysterious method of power gaming fall to our swords through our own magic known as the revoke. Even those who wish to instruct magic in this world must bend to our will... It is these powers we pledge to you in your village’s time of need. It is these powers which shall aid us in your quest and with which we shall drive back the marauding hordes of Uraguan who must be taught the limits of what they may lust for. They shall be taught the meaning of giving in to the dwarven curse.”
 
It was then each member of the company drew their swords and let out a powerful battle cry which echoed throughout the nearby valleys. Steel would meet flesh in these coming days, that they were sure of, and it would be The Magic Team which would fight alongside the GMs as they triumphed.

[Praetor 1550]

 

In the desert not that far from the doomed village stood a small group of men and women. The sand blew around their feet in delicate swirls, grabbing at their blood red cloaks and tossing them around their legs in a frenzied dance. Impassive they were, their hands bloodied by hundreds of denials clutching long spears planted into the sand. Each held a shield, a shield that had saved them against many a QQ. 

As the sun fell under the horizon, they stirred and began to march. It took them but a few moments to reach the grassy bluff overlooking the assortment of eclectic collection of houses.

 

Yet they made no effort to join the bustle of activity inside it. Some even might notice them sneering at the pathetic group of so called warriors who named themselves the Application Team.  Why would they help? The dwarves would do them a favor by removing all the troublesome people who believed themselves superior to the true gods of Anthos.

With a roar and a clash of steel against steel, they banged their weaponry against their shields. Tonight, the clouds would block out the sun, but the VILLAIN APPLICATION TEAM would not fight in the shade. It would not fight at all.

 

"Ahoo!"

 

Their famed warcry echoed across the lands. Majestic to the very last.

 

[Lym 849]

 

In the desert not that far from the doomed village stood a small group of men and women. The sand blew around their feet in delicate swirls, grabbing at their blood red cloaks and tossing them around their legs in a frenzied dance. Impassive they were, their hands bloodied by hundreds of denials clutching long spears planted into the sand. Each held a shield, a shield that had saved them against many a QQ. 

As the sun fell under the horizon, they stirred and began to march. It took them but a few moments to reach the grassy bluff overlooking the assortment of eclectic collection of houses.

 

Yet they made no effort to join the bustle of activity inside it. Some even might notice them sneering at the pathetic group of so called warriors who named themselves the Application Team.  Why would they help? The dwarves would do them a favor by removing all the troublesome people who believed themselves superior to the true gods of Anthos.

With a roar and a clash of steel against steel, they banged their weaponry against their shields. Tonight, the clouds would block out the sun, but the VILLAIN APPLICATION TEAM would not fight in the shade. It would not fight at all.

 

"Ahoo!"

 

Their famed warcry echoed across the lands. Majestic to the very last.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May contain gore & violence:

 

 

 

 

Gonna win this one:

 

[CombatRolePlay 1863]

Watches as magical rocks and fire balls and all kids of wizbiz rain upon the greedy dwarves,

 

(( This aint gonna be a war, this is going to be a dwarven massacre ))
((Kudos for meanking, staying in character even against the GMs XD ))

[Evilbanana5757 154]

((The dwarves dun goofed... big time....))