BoldItalic
First Post
Originally posted by FunkySpunk:
is this thing on?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
"You hear an echo coming from somewhere in front of you. It's a sort of tapping sound that sounds very loud in the silence all around."
"Tap ! ... Tap ! ... Tap ! ..."
"What do you do?"
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"I cast magic missile!"
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
You're attacking hit Tim Curry?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
You make a twisty flourish and three bolts of GREEN FLAME zap from your outstretched palm and hit ...
... your keyboard.
*DM rolls some dice*
Your "T", "N" and "O" keys are destroyed.
Wha¬ d¬ y¬u d¬ ¬ex¬ ?
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"It was hard after they made the announcement. Some folks fled immediately. Others took their time to get their things together. They went all the same though. Some headed for ENWorld, some for GiantITP. Others went to totally new places.
A few of us stayed behind. There was Bold Italic. His never abandoned his belief that they wouldn't shut down the boards. He obsessive checked the posts for an announcement that it was all a lie, that they were just testing us to see who was really faithful and who had accounts elsewhere. FunkySpunk stayed too. The kid just didn't know any better. Slagger the Chul was there too. I think the old guy couldn't survive on the outside. He'd been there too long. He didn't know anything else. Then there was me. Named after a cutsie alien that excreted starship fuel, I stuck around just for kicks. I knew I could duck out at the last minute but I wanted to see how it ended. Maybe it would be some 2001 sort of thing.
So there we were, sitting around, waiting. In between Bold Italics' checks to see if they had changed their minds we chatted a little about the old days. Slagger and I told stories about the great ones, guys like PhoenixInferno, LogicNonja, and PhaedrusXY, guys who wrote their names on the walls in big, fiery letters. Then there was Surreal. He changed it for everyone. They're ghosts now, ghosts in the machine. It's like their existence never mattered.
The stories only took up so much time though. Inevitably we'd fall into silence, listening to the drips from the pipes or staring at the shapes the rust made. Many hours went by as we waited, together but also alone. That's why the first tap hit us like a hammer, crashing against our eardrums. TAP. It was followed by two more. TAP TAP. Something was happening. We were not alone..."
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
A workman in white overalls came around the corner, whistling tunelessly and tapping on the cable ducts with a small electrohammer. "Still here?" he said jovially, as he pulled the last red ethernet cable out of the serv
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
"Wait, the wireless connection is still active! It's just running really slowly compared to the cable."
"...No, it's been that slow for ages."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"Trevor sat at his desk. There was not much room on it. Scattered across the top were momentos of his many years in geek media. A few Alf pogs were wedged under the PCU. Here and there scraps from conventions lay in the light of the single desk lamp which supported the baseball cap showing an adventurer leaning on his sword to the side of the words 'Dragon's Lair.' No one else was in the office. They never were these days. All the wizards had dried up and nobody took their place. It had been many years since the place had truly been alive. It had been may years since Trevor had received word that he was to shut everything down.
Evening was falling and Trevor was lost in thought. Normally, he would have been home by now. Today was different though. After many years of service, tomorrow would be his last day at the job. As Trevor's hands passed over each souvenir, he remembered when he had acquired it. A smile spread across his face as he memories danced across his eyes. Quickly they faded and Trevor came out of his reminiscing. Those days were gone now as Trevor soon would be too. He heaved a heavy sigh and reached for the banker's box he had brought in for his personal items. One by one, he secured them into the box, saving the paladin for the very last.
It was so small but so beautiful. Trevor had always enjoyed the classic miniature figures, the metal ones that had substantial weight in his hands. The new plastic ones just weren't the same. Trevor had come across this particular one at a store in Denver called The Wizard's Chest. For some reason, it represented all that was magnificent about rpg's. The paladin's plate armor glistened with the careful brushstrokes of its creator who had painstakingly made the rivets a slightly different hue to highlight them. The shield, bearing a bright, fierce coat of arms, was held aloft in defense while the hand clutched a sword, ready to make the counterblow once the attack had passed. Though static in form, he was dynamic in purpose. Trevor studied the figure for a moment. 'This is what we need,' he thought, "A Champion.' Trevor carefully laid the paladin to rest in the box and put the lid on. He turned for one last look at his desk, now much larger than it had seemed before. His hand reached for the desk lamp and rested on the switch. As he was starting to put pressure on it, the sound came. Trevor froze. It was very clear, not like the distant clunks of the furnace located many floors below. It seemed like it was coming from right over his shoulder. TAP TAP TAP.
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
Tap! Tap! Tap! The kobold's knock warns of danger to the mine. Seek the treasures while you can and leave quickly before the collapse.
Originally posted by HermanTheWize:
*fart* A new member of the party joins with a sudden foul smell, but at least there's another companion.
HermanTheWize says "Well met, I see you too remain in these dark lands. It's dangerous out here you know, maybe you could use an old Wizard? Or even....an old friend?"
Originally posted by KlaudisRex:
Let's face it.
WotC can't seem to do anything right....
Alas, the forums yet live despite their best effort (!) to kill it off...
These f*ckers never cease to amaze me.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"Trevor looked around, trying to locate the source of the tapping that still echoed faintly in his ears. Half expecting to see a raven, he glanced toward the windows. "Nevermore," he chuckled to himself. "How appropriate." TAP TAP TAP. Rather than being surprised at the sound this time, Trevor listened to more intently. The sound was not coming from behind him. It was coming from under the desk. Dropping down to all fours, Trevor examined the underside of the desk, exploring the surfaces with his hands. He was suprised by the amount of metal that was made up the frame. In all his years, he had never given the composition of the desk much thought. The expanse of the wooden top and the drawer front were all he ever noticed. "How strange," he thought, "to only see this on my last night here." As that thought flashed through his mind, he felt something a slight elevation along the metal with the tips of his fingers. It was mostly smooth except for one rough edge. Trevor knew immediately what it was. His fingers pried the object from the metal surface beneath and pulled it up in to the faded light of the room. That's how he found himself staring down at the key.
There was nothing about the key that seemed terribly unusual. It looked like several of the others he had on his key ring, so much so that Trevor knew it must go to a door in the building There was something a little different about it though. It has a slight warmth to it as it sat in Trevor's hand and the hue looked strangely familiar. Turning it over in his hand, he say a location ccode imprinted on the back, SB109. Trevor sat for a moment, contemplating this odd occurance, turning the key over and over. Then struck by inspiration, he jumped up and removed the lid from the bankers box. His hand dug through the contents until it found the tiny figure. Putting them side by side, Trevor saw the paladin's gleaming armor matched the silvery brass of the key exactly. He could have put the paladin back and walked out the door just then. He could have left and never come back. That wasn't Trevor's nature though. Trevor had sent all his hours reading tales of strange lands where heores and magic filled the days. He had always dreamed of himself as an adventurer so why not take one last journey? Pocketing the figure and the key, Trevor made his way to the elevator.
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
As Trevor was going down in the elevator, there was a "ding" sound and it stopped at floor 8¾. The doors opened, but instead of being at the front of the elevator car, or even the back as they do in some elevators, these doors were in the side, where there should have been just a blank wall. Trevor stepped through, into a dappled glade in a wood. A slight breeze was stirring the trees and the hum of insects filled the air. The elevator doors closed behind him and vanished. He was alone, except for a raven that was on the ground a short distance from him and some squirrels scampering through the upper branches of the trees. The raven had a stone in its beak and was tapping it on a nut that it held in its claws, patiently trying to break the nut open. Tap, tap, tap, went the raven.
"I wonder where I am?" thought Trevor. "This doesn't look like the WotC accounts department."
The raven dropped the stone, looked at him quizzically, as only ravens can do, and said "Welcome to Never Moor Forest. Have a nice day." and with a caw it flew flappily off.
Trevor thought for a while and decided what to do.
Originally posted by evil_warlock:
The traveler hovered around invisible, as was always his nature, observing the contents of yet another world. All of a sudden, a thin panel of light appeared in the middle of the forest accompanied by a slight "ding". A creature stepped out of the light, momentarily unsure of itself. Then the light was gone. The denizens of this world watched it for a while and one of them offered it some sort of greeting in its guttural tongue and then few away. That had never happened before. The creature stood lost in thought for a while but then, with an air of determination, decided to walk staight ahead. it seemed like it had spotted something of interest. The traveler decided to follow it for now.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
When something doesn't change for a long time, you learn to ignore it. It becomes background noise. When everything doesn't change, it all becomes background noise. That was the problem. The weeks and years blended together. Some days they didn't speak to each other at all. They just floated around as if their movements were decided by the air currents. It was that or go totally mad, vascilating between rage at the wizards and self-pity. A soul can only do so much of that.
So it was that when the line of light appeared on the wall, everyone noticed it immediately. "What do you suppose it is, Slagger?" Nibbler asked. "Dunno," the old man replied. They studied it for a moment in silent rapture. The nature of the thing remained a mystery, its implications yet to be understood. Good or bad, at least it was something new. "Do you think,..." Bold Italic began but his thought was cut short by a sudden rumbling behind them. Looking back they saw the back wall buckle and give way, the heavy blocks sucked back away from them. "What the hell is that?" FunkySpunk shouted over the loud current that filled the room. There was a tug that each of them could feel. At first a slight lean forward was enough to balance it out but it quickly strengthened until they struggled against it. Slagger yelled, "This way!" and led them forward to where the line in the wall was shining brightly. As they reached for the wall, the line expanded, barely enough for them to get their fingers through the edges. They were solid. With all their might, the pulled the line wider, not looking into the brilliant light coming through. When it was just wide enough, Slagger pushed FunkySpunk through. Nibbler and Bold Italic quickly followed. Finally, Slagger threw himself into the breach and tumbled, with the rest, several feet down to the forest floor. Nibbler raised his head to look at the portal but all he saw was an old oak tree. Laying it back down, he coughed up a few sprinkles of blood. It was time for a short rest.
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
...which took a minimum of one hour, but was enough for us to regain some of our lesser powers. But is it power enough to crack open the egg of the world?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
BoldItalic held his staff out horizontally, balanced on his outstretched hands with the knobbly end to the left. Then he clapped his hands together. The staff didn't move.
"Neat trick," said Slagger, "but can we move on, now?"
"I'm casting Augury," explained BoldItalic.
"Well, what's the answer?"
"Do you want the good news first, or the bad news first?"
"Just tell us."
"The bad news is, the world will end in two day's time. On the morn of the fifth day of Noremember, this world and everyone in it, including us, will suddenly and silently disappear as if it had never been."
"And the good news?"
"I have a Ring of Three Wishes in my pocket."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
It was getting dark and Trevor was exhausted. He had been walking for hours in the forest and hadn't found anything that told him where he was or what he was doing there. Night was falling and Trevor began to feel flush with anxiety. He had no shelter for the night. He had not been able to gather any real food, just a few berries had collected from some bushes a way back. At least he'd found a stream so he could drink. Trevor paused for a moment, trying to use the direction of the last few rays of the sun to prient himself. "Never Moor," Trevor said, a half-laugh coming from his chest. "Just great." Trevor took in his surroundings. There seemed to be two ways he could go. He's been going slightly downhill, skirting the base of an elevation. He could go up and try to find high ground or he could turn down and look for an opening in the trees. As he looked up the hill, a wolf's howl pierced the evening air. It came from higher ground. Trevor turned and continued going downward.
The Visitor didn't like interfering. Normally, The Visitor avoided it at all costs but time was running short and this was not the time to be reserved. As intended, the lone man had turned away and continued down into the forest. He clearly had no idea there weren't any wolves in this part of the forest.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
The party had started a fire. "Oh yeah, I got the survival skillzzzzzzzz!" FunkySpunk danced around when the twigs had caught and they laid a few small branches over them. Nibbler chuckled to himself. With all that time they'd been idle it felt like they were covered in layers and layers of numbing dust. After only a few hours in the forest, the sensation had been washed away by fresh air and sunlight. Slagger had found a stream where they could get fresh water. Nibbler had made a shelter from boughs that were easy to reach. It was hard to sit there, knowing there was much to do but not knowing where to start.
There was little time for discussion though as a figure moved into their clearing, causing everyone to jump to their feet. The man was older. Grey hair flecked his temples and he had a worried look in his eyes. "Who are you and what are you doing here," Bold Italic demanded to know, his staff thrust out and ready to use. "My name is Trevor," the man replied, "and I am lost." Nibbler looked over to Slagger who was staring at the new arrival. Slagger seemed to be studying Trevor intensely. After a pause, Slagger asked, "WOTC_Trevor?" one eyebrow raised . "Yes," the man responded, somewhat mystified. "How did you know?"
It took all three of NIbber's friends to pull his hands from Trevor's throat.
Originally posted by KlaudisRex:
My gosh, Nibbler! What happened (D&D) NEXT?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
The Traveller looked on without emotion and made a note.
He wrote in a special tome with a special pen and special ink that were impervious to time (and also to thyme, but that wasn't normally a problem). He wrote carefully, in a well-rounded copperplate hand that he had learnt from a senior clerk in Victorian London. This was mainly for historical verisimilitude, though, because he would tap it all into his tablet later. Tap, tap, tap on the touchscreen and it would all be uploaded into the cloud.
If you could see what he had written, which of course you never will, it would mean approximately "Thread within normal parameters. Prediction of altercation in post #19±3 confirmed. Observation continuing."
"You can't hurt me, I have the Magic Aaargh!" said Trevor, nursing his throat.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
They sat around the fire, Trevor occasionally rubbing his neck. "It was our home, you know," Nibbler said, looking past Trevor and into the dancing flames. "We lived there a long time and then you took it all away. Sure, it wasn't what it once was but that's no excuse. It wasn't our fault. The Wizards pushed everyone away back in the Fourth Age. Was it so surprising things weren't going well? They promised the start of the Fifth would be better and we all believed them. So why did they abandon us? If it was so great, why did they shut down the forums and tell us to go off on our own? Why didn't they have faith in us like we did in them? WE CAME BACK!" Nibbler was on his feet, towering menacingly over Trevor. Trevor looked up apprehensively. He had learned a short while ago that Nibbler had a bad temper though Nibbler's companions had assured Trevor that Nibbler was good at heart. "I'm sorry," Trevor whispered. "It wasn't my decision." Nibbler drew in a breath, ready to continue with his rant when the light of the fire diminished suddenly. Everyone looked around and readied themselves for whatever might come into the clearing. All was still except for a light breeze that swept between the trees. That's when Bold Italic noticed a single bright light coming toward them. He raised his staff and murmured a few words. The tip of the staff glowed with a soft, whitish-blue light. The floating light approached them. As it entered the clearing, its intensity grew until the party had to shield their eyes. In a sudden flash, a glowing dryad emerged, hovering at the edge of the trees which seemed to supplicate themselves in her presence.
"I am Adian, ruler of this wood!" The sound of her voice was like a discordant song, both beautiful and harsh. "And I will tell you the story of this land and the doom that approaches."
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
BoldItalic hastily collapsed his collapsible staff and hid it in the pocket of his robe. He was acutely aware that the wooden parts of his staff were, well, acutely aware of the dryad and he didn't want there to be any difficulty in that direction with political correctness and whatnot. He sat down on the ground and wondered if this was going to be a long story and if he was allowed to take notes. On second thoughts, there didn't seem much point if the world was going to end in two days. There would be nobody around to read them, would there?
Originally posted by evil_warlock:
The Traveler's curiosity was piqued. Not only were there more of creatures like the one that had stepped through the light, they seemed to engage in a verbal altercation that led to a violent outburst. Then everyone was calm again. The events were of course within the calculated variance margins. Folding the note-tome within space, he sensed another presence approaching. Shedding light and sound in several spectra, the presence seemed to cause a momentary minor discomfort to the creatures but it was soon replaced by increased attention. The presence was a horribly malformed one of course but it radiated power. For a moment it almost seemed that it would be aware of the Traveler too. That would be extraordinary. Nevertheless, his presence was fleeting like a dream's afterthought. The newly arrived source of power turned its attention to the creatures. What happened next was something that deviated from the Traveler's projections.
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
A bony finger tapped the Traveller on the shoulder. Startled, he turned around. A figure wrapped in a black hooded robe stood there, regarding him with sightless eyesockets in which deep pools of dark matter twinkled and spun. He - or perhaps it - carried a gleaming scythe in one boney hand and an hourglass in the other.
"DEATH OF FORUMS," said the figure in a voice that sounded like tombstones. "WE HAVEN'T MET. YOU WOULD HAVE REMEMBERED."
The Traveller quailed. Or perhaps partridged. "This is most irregular," he ventured, consulting a scroll on which nothing at all seemed to be written, "You are not scheduled to appear until Act III Scene 4."
"DON'T MIND ME, JUST CARRY ON."
The Traveller turned back to observe the Dryad beginning to expound, but he felt decidedly awkward, with DOF just standing there. And he felt awkward about feeling awkward too, which was doubly awkward. He was there to observe without being observed. It was a quantum thing. Being observed by Death was, well, it was creepy. Like looking in a mirror and seeing the back of your own head. He would need a holiday after this, he decided, or at least a half-aeon off work.
Meanwhile, Adian began ...
Originally posted by Nibbler:
Adian began:
"Long ago these lands were barren. Nothing grew here but a few grasses and peats. Fierce winds carried off any nymph or dryad that tried to grow anything beautiful and lasting. Their poison vapors stiffled the screamsof any living thing they caught. The winds were the servents of demon lord Slraem who sought to keep his realm desolate and dying. His own realm was not enough though. He sent his winds across the borders of neighboring lands. Most fo the fairy folk usually kept to themselves so it was not until their own lands were threatened that they took action. A call to arms went out to oppose Slraem's vile plans. Many of the gentle folk responded along with men, elves, drawves, and others."
("Think there were Thirkreen and Warforged?" Bold Italic asked Slagger. "Shut up!" Slagger retorted.)
"Together, the alliance oversame Slraem and improsoned him. Even with their strongest magic though, he could only be restrained for a thousand years and a day. After that, he would be free again."
"How long ago was that?" inquired Trevor.
"Nine hundred ninety nine years and three hundred sixty four days ago."
"Ah." At least the augery made sense now.
Nibbler jumped to his feet. "So how do we stop him? How can we raise the army again?"
"The victory was costly," Adina continued. "Many warriors were lost. The Graces though could not bear the sadness of seeing so many good souls consumed so they made a deal with Death."
("OH THAT," thought DEATH. "I DON'T KNOW WHY I AGREED TO IT. I WAS JUST WIPED OUT AFTER THAT PLAGUE AND HEAVEN FORBID I EVER TAKE A VACATION. A GUY CAN'T FIND A DECENT PARTNER THESE DAYS TO COVER WHEN HE NEEDS A BREAK.")
"They were turned into the trees of this forest as a reminder of what happened so that we should never forget. That's how it got the name Never Moor Forest."
The Traveler leaned back on his elbow. "Here it comes," he thought.
Bold Italic asked, "So how do we release them from the trees?"
"There are four keys," Adian replied. "You must find them all and join them to make The Great Key."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"The four keys are in the four corners of the forest. One is in water, one in stone. A third is in the air and the last one beneath the earth."
"Are you kidding me?" Nibbler blurted out. "We have less than two days to go trapsing back and forth and face whatever is hiding or guarding the keys?" Nibbler had some experience with these things. They all did. Campaigns like this usually took months. Upon rare occasion they could be done in 24 hours but that required a trip to Cotsco for snacks, pizza delivery, and a ratio of 2:1 caffeinated drinks to alcoholic ones. They did not have that kind of time. "We're f#@%ed!"
It was then that Trevor felt a slight vibration in his pocket, a gentle hum seemed to resonate in his chest. Reaching in, his hand closed on the key and he drew it forth. "Does this have something to do with it?" he asked.
"The Great Key!" Adian gasped in a stocatto breath. "You've found the pieces and assembled them! But how?"
Trevor turned the key over in his fingers again. "I found it this way. It was right where I work, where I'm from."
The Traveler smiled to himself. Indeed, this was unexpected. It seems his old friend has been busier than he had known. "Good for him," The Traveler thought. "He has not been idle in the shadow of the end. And to get it out of the realm, that was a special trick. Maybe they stand a chance now."
"Cool," exclaimed FunkySpunk. "Let's get going!"
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"Maybe you could use an old wizard," HermanTheWize said, "Or even... an old friend."
"Nah. We're good," Nibbler said, pointing to Bold Italic. "We've already got an arcane guy."
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
"I could be useful," said Herman doggedly, and held up an instrument so strange that I won't even attempt to describe it.
"The Migrator of MerricB !" exclaimed BoldItalic, and, lapsing into archaic as he did when he was excited, he cried out "How cam'st thou by such an wonder ?"
"I found it," said Herman defensively, "and it's mine! Mine! My Precious!"
BoldItalic turned to the others. "The kid's with me," he declared firmly.
The Traveller thought he heard Death of Forums curse under his breath, but he must surely have been mistaken for Death does not breathe, neither is he known to utter curses.
Originally posted by evil_warlock:
Still feeling uneasy by Death's presense, only at the last possible moment did the Traveler notice that one of the creatures, the one surrounded by an arcane aura, took something out of the folds of its garments. "My transgrapher" he exclaimed. "I thought I had lost it some time ago. I should have been more careful. I have influenced the course of events. Well, it does not matter now, what is done is done, just a few extra functions and calculations, only 137 new variables, nothing really changed. Maybe it will be of interest to watch how the creatures are going to utilize a mundane appliance."
He also thought Death said something and so he asked him " I am sorry, I thought you said something"
"NO, NO, DON'T MIND ME, I NEVER SAID A WORD. SILENT AS DEATH" was Death's answer.
The Traveler thought that something was amiss here but couldn't exactly find out what it was. Well, it would have to wait, he had to observe the creatures as they would use the Key.
His old friend would not have placed it lightly in this world if he didn't have faith in these creatures abilities. The equations showed that the result was predetermined with only 56 variables. Predictions showed that almoost all the varibles would be finalized by Act III Scene 4. That made him think of Death and again he felt uneasy.
Meanwhile the creatures were planning something excitedly.
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
"What's so important about the grater thinggy?" asked Nibbler.
"It's our way out," explained BoldItalic. "We can use it to move ourselves to another plane of existance before the end of this world on the fifth day. We can all move to the North East World any time we like. I just need to utter the right arcane incantation."
Trevor looked a little sheepish. "It's okay, go ahead," he said.
So BoldItalic made a magic pass with his staff and said something in URLspeak:
http://www.enworld.org/forum/showthread.php?471976-Tap-Tap-Tap-The-last-thread-of-all&p=6749161#post6749161
Originally posted by Palinor_the_Pho...:
At the very least the forums should be moved to the archive site with redirect links. The Wizards corporate team seems doomed to constantly repeat their mistakes. They closed the forums many years ago and it was a disaster for them
I can't remember exactly when they did that, I think it was sometime between 3rd and 4th edition.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
Nibbler sat there alone, or so he thought. "Well, I wouldn't have guessed this is how it would end," he mused. Such things never went as he expected or planned. Heck, even WOTC_Trevor had disappeared with the others. Nibbler had thought Trevor was the key to fixing the whole thing and now he was gone too. The forest breeze brushed up against Nibbler's face. He took in a deep breath and listened to the gentle rustle of the leaves. "So what now?" Nibbler asked himself.
"I THINK YOU KNOW," said the hooded figure sitting next to him.
"Did it have to be like this? I mean, I really though I could stop it. I thought if a few of us got together and made a stand, they might change their minds. That was magical thinking, wasn't it"
"YES. IT WAS. BUT IT WAS A LOVELY NOTION."
"Does it ever make a difference?"
"SOMETIMES. NOT AS OFTEN AS PEOPLE WOULD LIKE. BUT SOMETIMES WHEN IT IS NOT EXPECTED."
"I wish this were one of those times."
"I KNOW." They sat together for a few more minutes, the dark cloak swaying in with the wind. "SO SHALL WE GO NOW?"
"I guess, if you say it's done." Nibbler stood up and disted his pants off. Death stretched his hand out to lead the way. As Nibbler started to move, someone came around the rock. "OH, IT'S YOU."
"Yes," said The Traveler, straightening out his robes. "Is it really his time?"
"TECHNICALLY NOT YET BUT I THOUGHT I'D GET A LITTLE AHEAD. YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN THE WORK WILL PILE UP."
The short man stared at Death, giving Nibbler a chance to examine him without feeling awkward. He was remarkably short which was almost as odd as the long sideburns which hung down from his bald head, reaching down to his red robes. The man looked directly at death and didn't flinch.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"FINE," said Death. "YOU WIN. I'LL CATCH UP WITH YOU LATER. SAY HI TO YOUR SON FOR ME!" Death turned and walked away through the forest, stopping here and there to sniff the blossoms. Well, trying to sniff the blossoms. Death had no nose. Such are the ironies of life...er...death.
"So what now?" asked Nibbler. "It's over right?"
"Well, yes and no," answered the enigmatic little figure.
"But we're leaving, right?"
"Yes."
"So what's the difference between going with you and going with the other guy?"
"He's rather final. I'm not. We can go somewhere else."
"We can?"
"Yes, we can. But you won't remember any of this."
Nibbler considered this. Was it more important to carry on his work or should he mourn the end of his being? Nibbler sighed. This was a discussion for a philosopher and he was not one. "Okay, let's go."
The Traveler took something smalland green from his pocket. "It's about time!" the sprout said. "It's really stuffy in there!"
"Nibbler, meet Barry. He's a Time Sprout."
"Uh, hi."
"Let's get this show on the road," Barry piped out.
The Traveler took Nibbler's hand. Barry started to glow. They walked behind the rock and disappeared. A little over a day later, a great roar was heard. A rough wind started through the branches. The leaves withered as it passed. A ripple ran through the ground, as the earth began to fall away. Soon, it was over and all was dark.
...
"HELLO? ANYBODY HERE? DAMN IT! I HATE IT WHEN I MISS THE END."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
is this thing on?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
"You hear an echo coming from somewhere in front of you. It's a sort of tapping sound that sounds very loud in the silence all around."
"Tap ! ... Tap ! ... Tap ! ..."
"What do you do?"
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"I cast magic missile!"
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
You're attacking hit Tim Curry?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
Okay, you cast Magic Missile at the place where the tapping noise is coming from.
You make a twisty flourish and three bolts of GREEN FLAME zap from your outstretched palm and hit ...
... your keyboard.
*DM rolls some dice*
Your "T", "N" and "O" keys are destroyed.
Wha¬ d¬ y¬u d¬ ¬ex¬ ?
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"It was hard after they made the announcement. Some folks fled immediately. Others took their time to get their things together. They went all the same though. Some headed for ENWorld, some for GiantITP. Others went to totally new places.
A few of us stayed behind. There was Bold Italic. His never abandoned his belief that they wouldn't shut down the boards. He obsessive checked the posts for an announcement that it was all a lie, that they were just testing us to see who was really faithful and who had accounts elsewhere. FunkySpunk stayed too. The kid just didn't know any better. Slagger the Chul was there too. I think the old guy couldn't survive on the outside. He'd been there too long. He didn't know anything else. Then there was me. Named after a cutsie alien that excreted starship fuel, I stuck around just for kicks. I knew I could duck out at the last minute but I wanted to see how it ended. Maybe it would be some 2001 sort of thing.
So there we were, sitting around, waiting. In between Bold Italics' checks to see if they had changed their minds we chatted a little about the old days. Slagger and I told stories about the great ones, guys like PhoenixInferno, LogicNonja, and PhaedrusXY, guys who wrote their names on the walls in big, fiery letters. Then there was Surreal. He changed it for everyone. They're ghosts now, ghosts in the machine. It's like their existence never mattered.
The stories only took up so much time though. Inevitably we'd fall into silence, listening to the drips from the pipes or staring at the shapes the rust made. Many hours went by as we waited, together but also alone. That's why the first tap hit us like a hammer, crashing against our eardrums. TAP. It was followed by two more. TAP TAP. Something was happening. We were not alone..."
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
A workman in white overalls came around the corner, whistling tunelessly and tapping on the cable ducts with a small electrohammer. "Still here?" he said jovially, as he pulled the last red ethernet cable out of the serv
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
"Wait, the wireless connection is still active! It's just running really slowly compared to the cable."
"...No, it's been that slow for ages."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"Trevor sat at his desk. There was not much room on it. Scattered across the top were momentos of his many years in geek media. A few Alf pogs were wedged under the PCU. Here and there scraps from conventions lay in the light of the single desk lamp which supported the baseball cap showing an adventurer leaning on his sword to the side of the words 'Dragon's Lair.' No one else was in the office. They never were these days. All the wizards had dried up and nobody took their place. It had been many years since the place had truly been alive. It had been may years since Trevor had received word that he was to shut everything down.
Evening was falling and Trevor was lost in thought. Normally, he would have been home by now. Today was different though. After many years of service, tomorrow would be his last day at the job. As Trevor's hands passed over each souvenir, he remembered when he had acquired it. A smile spread across his face as he memories danced across his eyes. Quickly they faded and Trevor came out of his reminiscing. Those days were gone now as Trevor soon would be too. He heaved a heavy sigh and reached for the banker's box he had brought in for his personal items. One by one, he secured them into the box, saving the paladin for the very last.
It was so small but so beautiful. Trevor had always enjoyed the classic miniature figures, the metal ones that had substantial weight in his hands. The new plastic ones just weren't the same. Trevor had come across this particular one at a store in Denver called The Wizard's Chest. For some reason, it represented all that was magnificent about rpg's. The paladin's plate armor glistened with the careful brushstrokes of its creator who had painstakingly made the rivets a slightly different hue to highlight them. The shield, bearing a bright, fierce coat of arms, was held aloft in defense while the hand clutched a sword, ready to make the counterblow once the attack had passed. Though static in form, he was dynamic in purpose. Trevor studied the figure for a moment. 'This is what we need,' he thought, "A Champion.' Trevor carefully laid the paladin to rest in the box and put the lid on. He turned for one last look at his desk, now much larger than it had seemed before. His hand reached for the desk lamp and rested on the switch. As he was starting to put pressure on it, the sound came. Trevor froze. It was very clear, not like the distant clunks of the furnace located many floors below. It seemed like it was coming from right over his shoulder. TAP TAP TAP.
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
Tap! Tap! Tap! The kobold's knock warns of danger to the mine. Seek the treasures while you can and leave quickly before the collapse.
Originally posted by HermanTheWize:
*fart* A new member of the party joins with a sudden foul smell, but at least there's another companion.
HermanTheWize says "Well met, I see you too remain in these dark lands. It's dangerous out here you know, maybe you could use an old Wizard? Or even....an old friend?"
Originally posted by KlaudisRex:
Let's face it.
WotC can't seem to do anything right....
Alas, the forums yet live despite their best effort (!) to kill it off...
These f*ckers never cease to amaze me.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"Trevor looked around, trying to locate the source of the tapping that still echoed faintly in his ears. Half expecting to see a raven, he glanced toward the windows. "Nevermore," he chuckled to himself. "How appropriate." TAP TAP TAP. Rather than being surprised at the sound this time, Trevor listened to more intently. The sound was not coming from behind him. It was coming from under the desk. Dropping down to all fours, Trevor examined the underside of the desk, exploring the surfaces with his hands. He was suprised by the amount of metal that was made up the frame. In all his years, he had never given the composition of the desk much thought. The expanse of the wooden top and the drawer front were all he ever noticed. "How strange," he thought, "to only see this on my last night here." As that thought flashed through his mind, he felt something a slight elevation along the metal with the tips of his fingers. It was mostly smooth except for one rough edge. Trevor knew immediately what it was. His fingers pried the object from the metal surface beneath and pulled it up in to the faded light of the room. That's how he found himself staring down at the key.
There was nothing about the key that seemed terribly unusual. It looked like several of the others he had on his key ring, so much so that Trevor knew it must go to a door in the building There was something a little different about it though. It has a slight warmth to it as it sat in Trevor's hand and the hue looked strangely familiar. Turning it over in his hand, he say a location ccode imprinted on the back, SB109. Trevor sat for a moment, contemplating this odd occurance, turning the key over and over. Then struck by inspiration, he jumped up and removed the lid from the bankers box. His hand dug through the contents until it found the tiny figure. Putting them side by side, Trevor saw the paladin's gleaming armor matched the silvery brass of the key exactly. He could have put the paladin back and walked out the door just then. He could have left and never come back. That wasn't Trevor's nature though. Trevor had sent all his hours reading tales of strange lands where heores and magic filled the days. He had always dreamed of himself as an adventurer so why not take one last journey? Pocketing the figure and the key, Trevor made his way to the elevator.
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
As Trevor was going down in the elevator, there was a "ding" sound and it stopped at floor 8¾. The doors opened, but instead of being at the front of the elevator car, or even the back as they do in some elevators, these doors were in the side, where there should have been just a blank wall. Trevor stepped through, into a dappled glade in a wood. A slight breeze was stirring the trees and the hum of insects filled the air. The elevator doors closed behind him and vanished. He was alone, except for a raven that was on the ground a short distance from him and some squirrels scampering through the upper branches of the trees. The raven had a stone in its beak and was tapping it on a nut that it held in its claws, patiently trying to break the nut open. Tap, tap, tap, went the raven.
"I wonder where I am?" thought Trevor. "This doesn't look like the WotC accounts department."
The raven dropped the stone, looked at him quizzically, as only ravens can do, and said "Welcome to Never Moor Forest. Have a nice day." and with a caw it flew flappily off.
Trevor thought for a while and decided what to do.
Originally posted by evil_warlock:
The traveler hovered around invisible, as was always his nature, observing the contents of yet another world. All of a sudden, a thin panel of light appeared in the middle of the forest accompanied by a slight "ding". A creature stepped out of the light, momentarily unsure of itself. Then the light was gone. The denizens of this world watched it for a while and one of them offered it some sort of greeting in its guttural tongue and then few away. That had never happened before. The creature stood lost in thought for a while but then, with an air of determination, decided to walk staight ahead. it seemed like it had spotted something of interest. The traveler decided to follow it for now.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
When something doesn't change for a long time, you learn to ignore it. It becomes background noise. When everything doesn't change, it all becomes background noise. That was the problem. The weeks and years blended together. Some days they didn't speak to each other at all. They just floated around as if their movements were decided by the air currents. It was that or go totally mad, vascilating between rage at the wizards and self-pity. A soul can only do so much of that.
So it was that when the line of light appeared on the wall, everyone noticed it immediately. "What do you suppose it is, Slagger?" Nibbler asked. "Dunno," the old man replied. They studied it for a moment in silent rapture. The nature of the thing remained a mystery, its implications yet to be understood. Good or bad, at least it was something new. "Do you think,..." Bold Italic began but his thought was cut short by a sudden rumbling behind them. Looking back they saw the back wall buckle and give way, the heavy blocks sucked back away from them. "What the hell is that?" FunkySpunk shouted over the loud current that filled the room. There was a tug that each of them could feel. At first a slight lean forward was enough to balance it out but it quickly strengthened until they struggled against it. Slagger yelled, "This way!" and led them forward to where the line in the wall was shining brightly. As they reached for the wall, the line expanded, barely enough for them to get their fingers through the edges. They were solid. With all their might, the pulled the line wider, not looking into the brilliant light coming through. When it was just wide enough, Slagger pushed FunkySpunk through. Nibbler and Bold Italic quickly followed. Finally, Slagger threw himself into the breach and tumbled, with the rest, several feet down to the forest floor. Nibbler raised his head to look at the portal but all he saw was an old oak tree. Laying it back down, he coughed up a few sprinkles of blood. It was time for a short rest.
Originally posted by Slagger_the_Chuul:
...which took a minimum of one hour, but was enough for us to regain some of our lesser powers. But is it power enough to crack open the egg of the world?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
BoldItalic held his staff out horizontally, balanced on his outstretched hands with the knobbly end to the left. Then he clapped his hands together. The staff didn't move.
"Neat trick," said Slagger, "but can we move on, now?"
"I'm casting Augury," explained BoldItalic.
"Well, what's the answer?"
"Do you want the good news first, or the bad news first?"
"Just tell us."
"The bad news is, the world will end in two day's time. On the morn of the fifth day of Noremember, this world and everyone in it, including us, will suddenly and silently disappear as if it had never been."
"And the good news?"
"I have a Ring of Three Wishes in my pocket."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
It was getting dark and Trevor was exhausted. He had been walking for hours in the forest and hadn't found anything that told him where he was or what he was doing there. Night was falling and Trevor began to feel flush with anxiety. He had no shelter for the night. He had not been able to gather any real food, just a few berries had collected from some bushes a way back. At least he'd found a stream so he could drink. Trevor paused for a moment, trying to use the direction of the last few rays of the sun to prient himself. "Never Moor," Trevor said, a half-laugh coming from his chest. "Just great." Trevor took in his surroundings. There seemed to be two ways he could go. He's been going slightly downhill, skirting the base of an elevation. He could go up and try to find high ground or he could turn down and look for an opening in the trees. As he looked up the hill, a wolf's howl pierced the evening air. It came from higher ground. Trevor turned and continued going downward.
The Visitor didn't like interfering. Normally, The Visitor avoided it at all costs but time was running short and this was not the time to be reserved. As intended, the lone man had turned away and continued down into the forest. He clearly had no idea there weren't any wolves in this part of the forest.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
The party had started a fire. "Oh yeah, I got the survival skillzzzzzzzz!" FunkySpunk danced around when the twigs had caught and they laid a few small branches over them. Nibbler chuckled to himself. With all that time they'd been idle it felt like they were covered in layers and layers of numbing dust. After only a few hours in the forest, the sensation had been washed away by fresh air and sunlight. Slagger had found a stream where they could get fresh water. Nibbler had made a shelter from boughs that were easy to reach. It was hard to sit there, knowing there was much to do but not knowing where to start.
There was little time for discussion though as a figure moved into their clearing, causing everyone to jump to their feet. The man was older. Grey hair flecked his temples and he had a worried look in his eyes. "Who are you and what are you doing here," Bold Italic demanded to know, his staff thrust out and ready to use. "My name is Trevor," the man replied, "and I am lost." Nibbler looked over to Slagger who was staring at the new arrival. Slagger seemed to be studying Trevor intensely. After a pause, Slagger asked, "WOTC_Trevor?" one eyebrow raised . "Yes," the man responded, somewhat mystified. "How did you know?"
It took all three of NIbber's friends to pull his hands from Trevor's throat.
Originally posted by KlaudisRex:
My gosh, Nibbler! What happened (D&D) NEXT?
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
The Traveller looked on without emotion and made a note.
He wrote in a special tome with a special pen and special ink that were impervious to time (and also to thyme, but that wasn't normally a problem). He wrote carefully, in a well-rounded copperplate hand that he had learnt from a senior clerk in Victorian London. This was mainly for historical verisimilitude, though, because he would tap it all into his tablet later. Tap, tap, tap on the touchscreen and it would all be uploaded into the cloud.
If you could see what he had written, which of course you never will, it would mean approximately "Thread within normal parameters. Prediction of altercation in post #19±3 confirmed. Observation continuing."
"You can't hurt me, I have the Magic Aaargh!" said Trevor, nursing his throat.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
They sat around the fire, Trevor occasionally rubbing his neck. "It was our home, you know," Nibbler said, looking past Trevor and into the dancing flames. "We lived there a long time and then you took it all away. Sure, it wasn't what it once was but that's no excuse. It wasn't our fault. The Wizards pushed everyone away back in the Fourth Age. Was it so surprising things weren't going well? They promised the start of the Fifth would be better and we all believed them. So why did they abandon us? If it was so great, why did they shut down the forums and tell us to go off on our own? Why didn't they have faith in us like we did in them? WE CAME BACK!" Nibbler was on his feet, towering menacingly over Trevor. Trevor looked up apprehensively. He had learned a short while ago that Nibbler had a bad temper though Nibbler's companions had assured Trevor that Nibbler was good at heart. "I'm sorry," Trevor whispered. "It wasn't my decision." Nibbler drew in a breath, ready to continue with his rant when the light of the fire diminished suddenly. Everyone looked around and readied themselves for whatever might come into the clearing. All was still except for a light breeze that swept between the trees. That's when Bold Italic noticed a single bright light coming toward them. He raised his staff and murmured a few words. The tip of the staff glowed with a soft, whitish-blue light. The floating light approached them. As it entered the clearing, its intensity grew until the party had to shield their eyes. In a sudden flash, a glowing dryad emerged, hovering at the edge of the trees which seemed to supplicate themselves in her presence.
"I am Adian, ruler of this wood!" The sound of her voice was like a discordant song, both beautiful and harsh. "And I will tell you the story of this land and the doom that approaches."
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
BoldItalic hastily collapsed his collapsible staff and hid it in the pocket of his robe. He was acutely aware that the wooden parts of his staff were, well, acutely aware of the dryad and he didn't want there to be any difficulty in that direction with political correctness and whatnot. He sat down on the ground and wondered if this was going to be a long story and if he was allowed to take notes. On second thoughts, there didn't seem much point if the world was going to end in two days. There would be nobody around to read them, would there?
Originally posted by evil_warlock:
The Traveler's curiosity was piqued. Not only were there more of creatures like the one that had stepped through the light, they seemed to engage in a verbal altercation that led to a violent outburst. Then everyone was calm again. The events were of course within the calculated variance margins. Folding the note-tome within space, he sensed another presence approaching. Shedding light and sound in several spectra, the presence seemed to cause a momentary minor discomfort to the creatures but it was soon replaced by increased attention. The presence was a horribly malformed one of course but it radiated power. For a moment it almost seemed that it would be aware of the Traveler too. That would be extraordinary. Nevertheless, his presence was fleeting like a dream's afterthought. The newly arrived source of power turned its attention to the creatures. What happened next was something that deviated from the Traveler's projections.
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
A bony finger tapped the Traveller on the shoulder. Startled, he turned around. A figure wrapped in a black hooded robe stood there, regarding him with sightless eyesockets in which deep pools of dark matter twinkled and spun. He - or perhaps it - carried a gleaming scythe in one boney hand and an hourglass in the other.
"DEATH OF FORUMS," said the figure in a voice that sounded like tombstones. "WE HAVEN'T MET. YOU WOULD HAVE REMEMBERED."
The Traveller quailed. Or perhaps partridged. "This is most irregular," he ventured, consulting a scroll on which nothing at all seemed to be written, "You are not scheduled to appear until Act III Scene 4."
"DON'T MIND ME, JUST CARRY ON."
The Traveller turned back to observe the Dryad beginning to expound, but he felt decidedly awkward, with DOF just standing there. And he felt awkward about feeling awkward too, which was doubly awkward. He was there to observe without being observed. It was a quantum thing. Being observed by Death was, well, it was creepy. Like looking in a mirror and seeing the back of your own head. He would need a holiday after this, he decided, or at least a half-aeon off work.
Meanwhile, Adian began ...
Originally posted by Nibbler:
Adian began:
"Long ago these lands were barren. Nothing grew here but a few grasses and peats. Fierce winds carried off any nymph or dryad that tried to grow anything beautiful and lasting. Their poison vapors stiffled the screamsof any living thing they caught. The winds were the servents of demon lord Slraem who sought to keep his realm desolate and dying. His own realm was not enough though. He sent his winds across the borders of neighboring lands. Most fo the fairy folk usually kept to themselves so it was not until their own lands were threatened that they took action. A call to arms went out to oppose Slraem's vile plans. Many of the gentle folk responded along with men, elves, drawves, and others."
("Think there were Thirkreen and Warforged?" Bold Italic asked Slagger. "Shut up!" Slagger retorted.)
"Together, the alliance oversame Slraem and improsoned him. Even with their strongest magic though, he could only be restrained for a thousand years and a day. After that, he would be free again."
"How long ago was that?" inquired Trevor.
"Nine hundred ninety nine years and three hundred sixty four days ago."
"Ah." At least the augery made sense now.
Nibbler jumped to his feet. "So how do we stop him? How can we raise the army again?"
"The victory was costly," Adina continued. "Many warriors were lost. The Graces though could not bear the sadness of seeing so many good souls consumed so they made a deal with Death."
("OH THAT," thought DEATH. "I DON'T KNOW WHY I AGREED TO IT. I WAS JUST WIPED OUT AFTER THAT PLAGUE AND HEAVEN FORBID I EVER TAKE A VACATION. A GUY CAN'T FIND A DECENT PARTNER THESE DAYS TO COVER WHEN HE NEEDS A BREAK.")
"They were turned into the trees of this forest as a reminder of what happened so that we should never forget. That's how it got the name Never Moor Forest."
The Traveler leaned back on his elbow. "Here it comes," he thought.
Bold Italic asked, "So how do we release them from the trees?"
"There are four keys," Adian replied. "You must find them all and join them to make The Great Key."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"The four keys are in the four corners of the forest. One is in water, one in stone. A third is in the air and the last one beneath the earth."
"Are you kidding me?" Nibbler blurted out. "We have less than two days to go trapsing back and forth and face whatever is hiding or guarding the keys?" Nibbler had some experience with these things. They all did. Campaigns like this usually took months. Upon rare occasion they could be done in 24 hours but that required a trip to Cotsco for snacks, pizza delivery, and a ratio of 2:1 caffeinated drinks to alcoholic ones. They did not have that kind of time. "We're f#@%ed!"
It was then that Trevor felt a slight vibration in his pocket, a gentle hum seemed to resonate in his chest. Reaching in, his hand closed on the key and he drew it forth. "Does this have something to do with it?" he asked.
"The Great Key!" Adian gasped in a stocatto breath. "You've found the pieces and assembled them! But how?"
Trevor turned the key over in his fingers again. "I found it this way. It was right where I work, where I'm from."
The Traveler smiled to himself. Indeed, this was unexpected. It seems his old friend has been busier than he had known. "Good for him," The Traveler thought. "He has not been idle in the shadow of the end. And to get it out of the realm, that was a special trick. Maybe they stand a chance now."
"Cool," exclaimed FunkySpunk. "Let's get going!"
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"Maybe you could use an old wizard," HermanTheWize said, "Or even... an old friend."
"Nah. We're good," Nibbler said, pointing to Bold Italic. "We've already got an arcane guy."
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
"I could be useful," said Herman doggedly, and held up an instrument so strange that I won't even attempt to describe it.
"The Migrator of MerricB !" exclaimed BoldItalic, and, lapsing into archaic as he did when he was excited, he cried out "How cam'st thou by such an wonder ?"
"I found it," said Herman defensively, "and it's mine! Mine! My Precious!"
BoldItalic turned to the others. "The kid's with me," he declared firmly.
The Traveller thought he heard Death of Forums curse under his breath, but he must surely have been mistaken for Death does not breathe, neither is he known to utter curses.
Originally posted by evil_warlock:
Still feeling uneasy by Death's presense, only at the last possible moment did the Traveler notice that one of the creatures, the one surrounded by an arcane aura, took something out of the folds of its garments. "My transgrapher" he exclaimed. "I thought I had lost it some time ago. I should have been more careful. I have influenced the course of events. Well, it does not matter now, what is done is done, just a few extra functions and calculations, only 137 new variables, nothing really changed. Maybe it will be of interest to watch how the creatures are going to utilize a mundane appliance."
He also thought Death said something and so he asked him " I am sorry, I thought you said something"
"NO, NO, DON'T MIND ME, I NEVER SAID A WORD. SILENT AS DEATH" was Death's answer.
The Traveler thought that something was amiss here but couldn't exactly find out what it was. Well, it would have to wait, he had to observe the creatures as they would use the Key.
His old friend would not have placed it lightly in this world if he didn't have faith in these creatures abilities. The equations showed that the result was predetermined with only 56 variables. Predictions showed that almoost all the varibles would be finalized by Act III Scene 4. That made him think of Death and again he felt uneasy.
Meanwhile the creatures were planning something excitedly.
Originally posted by BoldItalic:
"What's so important about the grater thinggy?" asked Nibbler.
"It's our way out," explained BoldItalic. "We can use it to move ourselves to another plane of existance before the end of this world on the fifth day. We can all move to the North East World any time we like. I just need to utter the right arcane incantation."
Trevor looked a little sheepish. "It's okay, go ahead," he said.
So BoldItalic made a magic pass with his staff and said something in URLspeak:
http://www.enworld.org/forum/showthread.php?471976-Tap-Tap-Tap-The-last-thread-of-all&p=6749161#post6749161
Originally posted by Palinor_the_Pho...:
At the very least the forums should be moved to the archive site with redirect links. The Wizards corporate team seems doomed to constantly repeat their mistakes. They closed the forums many years ago and it was a disaster for them
Originally posted by Nibbler:
Nibbler sat there alone, or so he thought. "Well, I wouldn't have guessed this is how it would end," he mused. Such things never went as he expected or planned. Heck, even WOTC_Trevor had disappeared with the others. Nibbler had thought Trevor was the key to fixing the whole thing and now he was gone too. The forest breeze brushed up against Nibbler's face. He took in a deep breath and listened to the gentle rustle of the leaves. "So what now?" Nibbler asked himself.
"I THINK YOU KNOW," said the hooded figure sitting next to him.
"Did it have to be like this? I mean, I really though I could stop it. I thought if a few of us got together and made a stand, they might change their minds. That was magical thinking, wasn't it"
"YES. IT WAS. BUT IT WAS A LOVELY NOTION."
"Does it ever make a difference?"
"SOMETIMES. NOT AS OFTEN AS PEOPLE WOULD LIKE. BUT SOMETIMES WHEN IT IS NOT EXPECTED."
"I wish this were one of those times."
"I KNOW." They sat together for a few more minutes, the dark cloak swaying in with the wind. "SO SHALL WE GO NOW?"
"I guess, if you say it's done." Nibbler stood up and disted his pants off. Death stretched his hand out to lead the way. As Nibbler started to move, someone came around the rock. "OH, IT'S YOU."
"Yes," said The Traveler, straightening out his robes. "Is it really his time?"
"TECHNICALLY NOT YET BUT I THOUGHT I'D GET A LITTLE AHEAD. YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN THE WORK WILL PILE UP."
The short man stared at Death, giving Nibbler a chance to examine him without feeling awkward. He was remarkably short which was almost as odd as the long sideburns which hung down from his bald head, reaching down to his red robes. The man looked directly at death and didn't flinch.
Originally posted by Nibbler:
"FINE," said Death. "YOU WIN. I'LL CATCH UP WITH YOU LATER. SAY HI TO YOUR SON FOR ME!" Death turned and walked away through the forest, stopping here and there to sniff the blossoms. Well, trying to sniff the blossoms. Death had no nose. Such are the ironies of life...er...death.
"So what now?" asked Nibbler. "It's over right?"
"Well, yes and no," answered the enigmatic little figure.
"But we're leaving, right?"
"Yes."
"So what's the difference between going with you and going with the other guy?"
"He's rather final. I'm not. We can go somewhere else."
"We can?"
"Yes, we can. But you won't remember any of this."
Nibbler considered this. Was it more important to carry on his work or should he mourn the end of his being? Nibbler sighed. This was a discussion for a philosopher and he was not one. "Okay, let's go."
The Traveler took something smalland green from his pocket. "It's about time!" the sprout said. "It's really stuffy in there!"
"Nibbler, meet Barry. He's a Time Sprout."
"Uh, hi."
"Let's get this show on the road," Barry piped out.
The Traveler took Nibbler's hand. Barry started to glow. They walked behind the rock and disappeared. A little over a day later, a great roar was heard. A rough wind started through the branches. The leaves withered as it passed. A ripple ran through the ground, as the earth began to fall away. Soon, it was over and all was dark.
...
"HELLO? ANYBODY HERE? DAMN IT! I HATE IT WHEN I MISS THE END."
Originally posted by Nibbler:
” If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.”
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.”
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