Author   |
Title |
Description |
Date |
Rank |
| Elobo |
The Daily Grind |
Nothing exciting ever happens here. Sure, Ruffini's spirit medium skills were fun... for maybe a month. But who wants to know you're just part of a game? Who wants your mortality and lack of autonomy spelled out for you by a little white dog? It's sobering, it's humbling. It's depressing. And I know I'm doomed to stand here every day selling the same old stuff to the same four kids because that's my lot in life and I know it and I hate it. I just can't wait to go home and sleep and dream of a world where I'm the master of my destiny. Ha, not even that. Nighttime is just a convenient illusion for the "player."
|
9/10/09 |
0.00 |
| Elobo |
Primal Force |
Only the truly foolish are vain enough to challenge the primeval forces of the land. Taking form from their residents, these entities toy with nature as if it were the most base puddy. They cast down their storms and thunderbolts, hand in hand always in the intertwining chaos of the natural world.
|
4/15/09 |
0.00 |
| Elobo |
Worshiped Idol |
Oral tradition tells of two tribes in Agrilla. Two tribes born of the same sun. They lived and worked in peace. One tribe began to worship an unseen pantheon. Massive stone idols were erected in their honour. The worshiping tribe grew vainglorious of their faith and scornful of the other. They were obsessed with the adulation of their pantheon and rapidly consumed the resources of the land for offerings and material to build and move their idols. The other tribe could take no more and slaughtered the worshipers – weak from their exhausting and constant rituals. In spite, they toppled the idols, smashing them in the canyon. The spirits of their enemies were still zealous and bound themselves to the great stone heads of their monoliths. They struggled to move, but crushed their killers. But they could not give chase without toppling, and the remaining Agrillans fled the land to start anew. The idols were left with a taste for blood in a barren land, wailing in anguish over their lost vengeance.
|
11/8/09 |
0.00 |
| Elobo |
Desperation |
Our consciousness streams inwards, crushing itself. Our mind barely has strength enough to stitch this world together anymore. It tears apart at the seam. The dark recesses of our mind bleed through. Nightmare tendrils reach down to strangle the colour from our form. We grew overconfident, riding high on the devastation of the guardians. But now, we are simply alone on a pile of battered corpses, they have no more energy to give. Our courage has been rent in twain again and again, and we simply do not have the fortitude for it anymore. All that is left is Desperation. All that is left is to blindly flail at the encroaching nightmares while we cling desperately to the decadence of our memories of former conquest. But we are alone now, courage left us a long time ago.
|
8/18/09 |
0.00 |
| Elobo |
Uproarious Upchucking |
Our sources say that when the Master Belch takes on too much fly honey, he merely needs to open his mouth and issue forth a river of putrescent barf. The stench is permanent, it's great for decorating the base! And while he uses some of his body mass, he frees himself up for more fly honey and generate a whole host of new minions! (ebfgp 2009)
|
8/15/09 |
0.00 |
