Thorntangle
First Post
Goodbye 3e, we barely knew you. You stormed into our lives with your bold, brassy new look and attitude only to leave us 3 years later. Before you were born, a community of fantasy gaming aficionados gathered to speculate about you thanks to a man known only as Eric Noah. When you arrived, you and your rhinestone-studded cover seduced me back into gaming after a long, long abstinence.
With news of your imminent passing we gathered again, not that we ever really separated due to the strong bonds you formed. We came first to mourn you in our own special way, by both casting scorn on your replacement and by reaffirming that parts of you were indeed broken, unbalanced, lacking, defective. But defective in your own endearing way.
Then we came again to speculate about your heir apparent, 3.5, the thoroughbred with all of your best traits and, supposedly, all your flaws removed. 3.5 would be the product of a crack team of RPG scientists working with your genetic material and millions of man-hours of test data. A replacement on our tables, but not in our hearts.
Yes, you will live on for a time in our hearts and at our tables, but you will fade like an aging heavyweight, just like your predecessor. 3.5 is your child and it's your child's time in the sun.
I raise my glass in honor of you, 3e. You will be forever in my heart and on my shelf.
Prost!
Will someone else say a few words for the departed?
With news of your imminent passing we gathered again, not that we ever really separated due to the strong bonds you formed. We came first to mourn you in our own special way, by both casting scorn on your replacement and by reaffirming that parts of you were indeed broken, unbalanced, lacking, defective. But defective in your own endearing way.
Then we came again to speculate about your heir apparent, 3.5, the thoroughbred with all of your best traits and, supposedly, all your flaws removed. 3.5 would be the product of a crack team of RPG scientists working with your genetic material and millions of man-hours of test data. A replacement on our tables, but not in our hearts.
Yes, you will live on for a time in our hearts and at our tables, but you will fade like an aging heavyweight, just like your predecessor. 3.5 is your child and it's your child's time in the sun.
I raise my glass in honor of you, 3e. You will be forever in my heart and on my shelf.
Prost!
Will someone else say a few words for the departed?