Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

General out-of-character discussion among players of Cantr II.

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PaintedbyRoses
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby PaintedbyRoses » Fri Jan 18, 2019 5:35 pm

hyrle wrote:As a player who stopped playing the game, I'd like to add my two cents to this discussion. (And I'm a couple months late because I don't stop in here often any more. My wife still plays but I've chosen not to.) For me, I quit because I stopped feeling creative. I had played good characters, I had played evil characters, I had built towns, I had raided towns. I had sailors, mayors, pirates, traders, peace-lovers , lovers, haters and troublemakers - and characters who were combinations of those things. But after having "done it all" and even sent characters deep into foreign lands - I just felt there really wasn't anything new for me to want to do. And so the game stopped being fun to me. And when a game's no longer fun, I no longer play it.
This is why immortality is not a good idea, in the game or in real life.
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Shaudawn
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby Shaudawn » Sat Jun 15, 2019 12:59 am

Shaudawn: Well...that's it.

Biin Hejj: What's it?

Shaudawn: You know how every denouement has an end?

Biin: Why of course, my dear boy. Perchance this be the 'end' of which thou speaketh?

Shaudawn: It is. I'm done. Time to pack up and leave this world.

Biin: Ah, "these violent delights have violent ends"?

Shaudawn: Indeed.

Biin: So did you find out who you really are?

Shaudawn: I did. Seems I could never wear the black hat. I tried.

Biin: You tried with me at the start!

Shaudawn: Yeah, and that lasted all of ...what... one day?

Biin: *He snickers* I peed on a building.

Shaudawn: Well, before I turn out the lights, do you want to tell all your fans what you've been up to lately?

Biin: Of course, oh squishy one! When do I not want to talk about myself?

Shaudawn: *chuckling*

Biin: In the time since leaving lo these greenish shores, I hath been rescued! There I did lie upon mine deathbed, when BEHOLD, there came an angel!

Shaudawn: Really?

Biin: Well, it was more of a slug. Granted, a five-dimensional banana slug named Fligbug. *his eyebrows waggle*

Shaudawn: *perplexed* Hardly seems like an angel... So how did this save you?

Biin: 'Twas a painful process, I dare say. But such is what happens, I am told, whenst one-and-a-half dimensional beings are thusly transformed into fully three-dimensional reality! But I highly recommend it. Things are so...roundy...and pointy.

Shaudawn: I think I'll pass. I'm better suited as a zero-dimensional concept placeholder than a 3D being anyway. Less painful. *rubs belly, wincing a bit* Anyway...what happened?

Biin: Oh, you wouldn't believe it!

Shaudawn: *gives a sidelong glance* You already lost me at 5D banana slug. What have you got to lose?

Biin: Well, I've now hooked up with Professor Horatio Q. Booper-snoot and his assistants, the Supreme Ultimate Battle Mage STEVE! (a.k.a. JUST STEVE!) and a genius mathematician-librarian named Augusta Constantine, not to mention Mssr. Fligbug, as we travel the multiverse exploring vast new realities in the techno-magical ship, The Equidistant, all whilst avoiding both the evil Dr. Ludlow Squiggle Farnsworthe and Admiral Berthold J. Nerf-flippers!

Shaudawn: *sarcastically* I had to ask about what was there to lose, didn't I?

Biin: *He puffs his birdlike chest proudly like...one of those birds that is proud...what is it? Peacock! Right.* I'm an orphic tinker now!

Shaudawn: Orphic tinker? What's that?

Biin: It's fabulous! I get to play an atomic-electric guitar to operate the ship. *He bobs his head up and down like a drunken woodpecker* It runs on rainbows.

Shaudawn: *rolling his eyes* And unicorns, I imagine?

Biin: *He looks back blankly* No. Whatever hell for?

Shaudawn: Anyway, it sounds like you have yet another reincarnated life as something completely new, creative, and different. I guess that's what very intelligent people do, don't they?

Biin: Yeppers! *He thumbs his suspenders* How about you? Anything remotely resembling a phoenix?

Shaudawn: *shakes head* No. I created my Cantr character to express that part of my ancestral heritage. It was a way to safely explore that aspect of me. Well, safe until recent violent events. ...those "violent ends" you quoted, that is. The vast majority of it was very peaceful. Even the pirates and rogues who came by were fleeting. The time with Louisa White and Olivia were the highlight, and those wacky times with Avren, Lion, and *rolls eyes* Aubergine Parkinson. I designed an awesome monument based on the medicine wheel. I told some stories. Explored my language a bit. In fact, now I have more time to devote to it. It's a worthy endeavor keeping the ancestral language alive. After all, nêhiyawak basically means "those of us who speak our language".

Biin: And you're just going to let that go?

Shaudawn: *shakes head* No. There's more wholesome expression in the new places, where there are friends to collaborate with, and there are well thought out literary plots where--when death and sex and drama do take place--they aren't so cliche as this place is. You know, the most frustrating thing was the lack of creativity of my killers. It's what bugged me from the start. Like broken records that nobody ever took off the broken turntable. In the end, I was actually grateful they just got right to it and didn't make me cringe with their tiresome bullsh--.

Biin: I thought them interesting at times.

Shaudawn: The premise was interesting. But it never quite satisfied. In the end, it just fell flat and ended up sounding trite. I don't know. Maybe I'm used to the more literary-minded and my expectations for a simplistic roleplaying game are just too high.

Biin: They thought themselves quite clever.

Shaudawn: They think a lot of things about themselves, most of which are highly exaggerated. But some are not.

Biin: Any regrets?

Shaudawn: I'll miss those few, few souls left who were fun to play with--those who take the time for detail. But there are very few now. The really good ones were driven off long ago or got bored with it. Most have gone, including god himself. I've contacted a few still left, and there were others I only knew anonymously that I couldn't. Some I have to still wait for the four days or so. But other than that, it's been a long time coming. I was ready to go West. Restore the Great Balance. My spirit shall rest well with my ancestors. Or, to put it in more 'real world' terms, now I won't have to check my phone all the time to see what happened at the last tick of whatever. Such a time suck. Made me lose track of what's really important sometimes. I just hope that a few of the lessons and stories I shared with folks over the years went beyond just the game and offered a different way to look at the real world as a connected, wonderful place, with gratitude and a sense of responsibility towards all their relations, be it other human beings, to the animals, rocks, trees, and water. An indigenous worldview for those used to a materialistic one.

Biin: *He smirks* Ironic that some moniyaw wasi'chu foreigner would invade your homeland, demand you follow her every whim, determine that you are lazy, disrespect and eventually kill you, huh? I guess history doesn't only repeat itself, it does so across worlds.

Shaudawn: Well, in the real world, that kind of thing still happens. There is a crisis nobody seems to talk about involving missing and murdered indigenous women. #MMIW. At least mine was a fictional slaughter.

Biin: True. Still, you know we'll both get hated on again because the people who think we're talking about them took the game to a personal level. It's not just their characters hating you, some of the writers took exception to your portrayals for some reason. It became them actively seeking you out just to spite the writer. At least you didn't cheat by using Discord or something.

Shaudawn: People hate what they don't understand. I tried to hold a mirror up. Maybe what they saw was a reflection of themselves. And if they didn't like it... well... when the computer is shut down, that's their issue. Why can't I have fun and poke back? And if some people felt a little more authentic joy (as opposed to the masturbatory murder-hobo porn some got off with over the long years), well... that's no small thing. That's why I like you, Biin. You were so much better at bringing joy and laughter into the world than I was.

Biin: Aw, shucks! Happy people are more fun than grumpy ones. Remember that, poopy head.

Shaudawn: *chuckles* kiyâm. I'll try.

Biin: Anything else?

Shaudawn: I'd like to leave with one last story. This one, not my own. Seems fitting these last days since the stories I left behind have now been replaced with something else that appeals to this audience more. Besides, I think it sums things up quite nicely, don't you think?

Biin: I think we have a clip. Role tape!

Shaudawn: I think you mean 'roll'--

Biin: Shush!!!

----

Why Did He Smash the Beetles?

Tyrion Lannister: Do you remember cousin Orson? Orson Lannister?

Jaime Lannister: Of course. Wet nurse dropped him on his head, left him simple.

Tyrion: Simple. Used to sit all day in the garden, crushing beetles with a rock.

Tyrion and Jaime: [imitating Orson] Kun, kun, kun!

Tyrion: Nothing made him happier.

Jaime: Nothing made you happier. You'd think being tormented from birth would give you some affinity for the afflicted.

Tyrion: On the contrary. Laughing at another person's misery was the only thing that made me feel like everyone else.

Jaime: Joke wore thin, though.

Tyrion: For you. You drifted away.

Jaime: I had other interests.

Tyrion: Yes. Other interests. But I stayed with Orson.

Jaime: Why?

Tyrion: I was curious. Why was he smashing all those beetles? What did he get out of it? First thing I did was ask him. "Orson, why are you smashing all those beetles?" He gave me an answer. "Smash the beetles! Smash them! Kun kun kun!" I wasn't deterred. I was the smartest person I knew, certainly I had the wherewithal to unravel the mysteries that lay at the heart of a moron. So I went to Maester Valeric's library.

Jaime: Valeric. Tried to touch me once.

Tyrion: Turns out far too much has been written about great men and not nearly enough about morons. Doesn't seem right. In any case, I found nothing that illuminated the nature of Orson's affliction or the reason behind his relentless beetles slaughter. So I went back to the source. I may not have been able to speak with Orson, but I could observe him, watch him, the way men watch animals to come to a deeper understanding of their behavior. [Tyrion picks up a bug off the floor] And as I watched, I became more and more sure of it: there was something happening there. His face was like the page of a book written in a language I didn't understand, but he wasn't mindless, he had his reasons. And I became possessed with knowing what they were. I began spending inordinate amounts of time watching him. I would eat my lunch in the garden, chewing my mutton to the music of "kun kun kun". And when I wasn't watching him, I was thinking about him. Father droned on about the family legacy and I thought about Orson's beetles. I read the histories of Targaryen conquests. Did I hear dragon wings? No, I heard "kun kun kun". And I still couldn't figure out why he was doing it. And I had to know because it was horrible, that all these beetles would be dying for no reason.

Jaime: Every day around the world, men, women, and children are murdered by the score. Who gives a dusty f*** about a bunch of beetles?

Tyrion: I know, I know, but still it filled me with dread. Piles and piles of them, years and years of them. How many countless living, crawling things smashed, dried out, and returned to the dirt? In my dreams, I found myself standing on a beach made of beetle husks stretching as far as the eye can see. I woke up, crying, weeping for their shattered little bodies. I tried to stop Orson once.

Jaime: He was twice your size.

Tyrion: He just pushed me aside with a "kun", kept on smashing. Every day. Until that mule kicked him in the chest and killed him. [Tyrion releases the bug and it crawls away] So what do you think? Why did he do it? What's it all about?

Jaime: I don't know. [the bells toll, signaling the time is approaching; Jaime stands and walks to the door of the cell] Good luck today.


----

Biin: Ah, my dear sir. Let us not trouble these people any longer and let them get back to their beetles. We have other dimensions to exist in. Time to wake up.

Shaudawn: I suppose you're right.

Biin: Any last requests? I hear 'tis the polite thing to offer a dead man walking.

Shaudawn: Sure, Biin. Play me out?

Biin: You got it. Playin' us both out, my feather-headed fraternal friend. Shall it be "The Lights Are Going Out"? I know how much you liked that one. For you, my melancholic meat-puppet, ne'er a more fitting and self-important song, for these are sad times in this and all worlds of multiple dimension. Alas, someone left the dictator cage unlocked and they doth run amok, even in the so-called 'Land of the Free'. #strum, strum, strum# So, a little music for you, and for all the dying planets, Green and Greenhousing alike?

Shaudawn: Nah. Let's leave on a lighter note. This is my liberation after all. You know, we never got around to playing your full discography. Remember the "Gods of Cantr Cha-Cha"? One and Two?

Biin: *He giggles* Best intervention by the Players Department of my life! Totally worth it. Mirth it is!!!

====

14. THE GODS OF CANTR CHA-CHA
((ORIGINAL PRE-5000 NOTES: This one hasn't been sung yet. I don't think it violates that Prime Directive, but it might if they catch wind of my appreciation for the dearly departed. And with Klojt 5000 nearing, I don't want a paralyzed Biin. Okay, I was hard on Know-It-All, but you can't deny that some things are screwy in Cantr. My take has always been to play to story above mechanics.

There was one time I got a 'stern warning' for having my character tell a story involving real world animals, and it kind of pissed me off. "There are no blah-blahs in Cantr," I was told, though I can't remember what it was I was talking about. Flies, I think. Anyway, I was told by that player (in game) that I couldn't mention flies (we'll say) or I'd be suspended. I don't know if I was PD...I kind of doubt it. But I was a bit miffed. I wanted to counter that there's no air in Cantr either, so how can people talk? (This was before wind and weather.) But I decided to just wait until that asshat's character went elsewhere since the town I was in never cared before. So, yeah, I've been hanging onto that one for a while now. And there's nothing like a scathing latin beat to really stick it to the Man, don't ya think? [That's a nod to the Simpson's episode when Montgomery Burns got shot and Tito Fuente explained how he was going to 'get' Monty.]

It's a generic big-band Cuban-style cha-cha-cha. It's hard to convey nationalities if you're not allowed to give real-world examples, which is sidestepped when it comes to languages. I've tried to downplay it a bit by not using capitalization, as if that made the difference. Anyway, it's this arbitrary interpretation that has come to a head like a bad pimple on an oily teen, and the literalists seem to be in charge. That's the thing with power--when subjectivity gets involved, things get really messy in this culture. And even well-meaning authorities can feel compelled to go along with the asshats and ban people while their friends get off. The hook. I meant "Get off the hook." Right? Anyway, another one that sounds awesome in my head in pre-Castro Cuban big-band, but I can't possibly convey. The overly liberal use of commas denote metre and pauses, not grammar. Dun-dun-dah!))

---
[Spoken into the radio:]

Ladies and gentlemen of Cantrland. This may very well be my last broadcast. You see, there is a certain style of music that...well...can be somewhat insidious...scandalous, even...if sung in a way that...erm... *clears throat* ...certain ~authorities~ might not appreciate. In an artistic and musical form, even. I'm not talking about the local government of which I am so proudly and unabashedly subject to. Of all the empires that could be, this is a pretty dang good one here in Zuzi! Anyway...I'll just let my art speak for itself. And if there are dire consequences...well... You will all know why. For today, I take on, the Supreme Diety Itself! Themselves! ...whatever... #rustling of sheet music muted in background# *Deep breath* Let's do this thang! (Uno...dos... one, two, three, quatro!)

#something resembling but not quite a rhumba. Maybe a cha-cha. Wait, is that a bosa nova? Hard to say. No, bosa nova is brazillian. This is more of a cuban beat. Anyway, you could dance a conga to it. Maybe. But never a bunny-hop. Oh, hell no. Yeah, think it's a cha-cha.#

Does the wind really blow, in Cantr?; /
Does the sun, ever rise or set?; /
Do the tides, ever flow in or out sir?; /
These are questions, you never ask, I'll bet. //
~dun-dun-dah~

Is the world really round, in Cantr?; /
Is like-a-ball, or maybe oblong sized?; /
Do the horses, ever trot or canter?; /
If there's answers, I'll bet that they are prized. //
~dun-dun-dah~

Tell me why, we never used to have weather.; /
Someone explain, why mead can heal every bruise.; /
Inexhaustible resources, we can gather; /
I think the gods who made Cantr are confused. //
~dun-dun-dah~

#sweeping chorus change#
Oh someone tell me whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy; /
I cannot see the skyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy; /
At least enough to tryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy; /
To see if it's blue, green or gooooolld; /
Isn't it quite straaaaaange; /
We're spawned knowing one languaaaaaage; /
And everyone of ancient aaaaaage; /
Is'n expert stronger, than any newspawn, twenty-year-old! //
~BOOOoooww!~

#original cuban-style beat#
Oh tell me where, we get all that note paper; /
Why almost everyone, has perfect boobs and butts; /
Are there a-ny clouds made out of vapor; /
The gods of Cantr, I swear, they must be nuts! //
~dun-dun-dah~

#sweeping chorus change#
Can anybody saaaaaaaaaaaaayyys; /
Why a year's just twenty daaaaaaaaaaaaayyys; /
Has it always been that waaaaaaaaaaaaayyys; /
Well it all seems mostly cruel; /
Oh darling can't you seeeeeeeeeee; /
That it's all just mysteryyyyyyyyy; /
Well you know there's got to beeeeeeeeeee; /
Some overarching, Capital, Rule; //
~BOOOoooww!~

#original cuban-style beat#
I think those gods, are prob'ly now quite angry; /
That I dare, to question all their laws; /
When mecha-nics start to trump the story; /
I guess even, the Cantr gods have flaws; //
***BBBBBZZZZZTTTTT!!!!***
#sudden burst of static and horrendous feedback whine is followed by a complete and eerie silence that may or may not last a terribly long time.#

===============================================================================
22/03 22:05 (GMT) (5015-3) From: S. M.

Message:

This message is in regards to your character Biin and the content of some of his songs. The game should always be played from the perspective of the character, and as such they should not have any knowledge that you, yourself, has. This includes referencing the Capital Rule, game administration and so on. Another issue: "Tell me why, we never used to have weather.; Someone explain, why mead can heal every bruise.; Inexhaustible resources, we can gather; I think the gods who made Cantr are confused"

Characters would not know that it is odd for mead to heal every bruise, or that resources do not become exhausted...these are things that you as a player know to not be possible.

Please refrain from having any further OOC references brought up by your characters. If you have questions as to whether or not something is considered OOC, contact the PD before letting the character speak it to avoid any potential future issues. If you have any questions about any of this, please feel free to reply to the message, otherwise we will consider your continued playing to represent your full understanding of the above, as well as affirmation that you will abide by it.

:mrgreen:
===============================================================================

3. THE GODS OF CANTR CHA-CHA REPRISE
((NOTES: Since the last cha-cha was so fun, I had to write another. Biin kept saying, "Oh! Oh! What about when...?" So I was compelled. The last gods cha-cha isn't really Capital Rule breaking, in my opinion. This one probably isn't either, but it's edging closer. Biin, you'll get us both banned, you cheeky bastard!))

[spoken into the radio:]
#infamous cuban-style cha-cha#
#speaks as music plays# Oooohh, ladies and gentlemen of Cantrland, you hear that? It's that subversive latin beat. And you know what that means! So secure your lightning rods, put on your tinfoil hats, and come and cha-cha on the fourth wall in front of the gods!


#cuban-style big band cha-cha beat#
In my last song, I said the gods were crazy; /
That the way the world was made, they must be mad; /
But perhaps, my friends, I was quite hasty; /
There's some reasons, the gods, they ain't so bad; //
~dun-dun-dah~

I read once, there was a thing called 'illness'; /
People could, catch this bad, taxing sneeze; /
But though no me-di-cation, could cure us; /
For some reason, there is no, more disease; //
~dun-dun-dah~

I still don't, know how I am broadcasting; /
No gen-er-a-tor, nor batt'ry runs this thing; /
It seems the laws of physics are contrasting; /
Yet somehow, the radio, it lets me sing; //
~dun-dun-dah~

#sweeping chorus change#
I really don't know hooooooow; /
When I have got two cooooooow; /
They produce a third somehooooooow; /
I really guess I shouldn't fuss; /
But why is there a newspaaaaaawn; /
In an empty town's front laaawwwwn; /
After two men, come and gooooone; /
When neither one, possess a, uterus; //
~BOOOoooww!~

#original cuban-style beat#
I can fix a tool with just my bare hand; /
If I've a key, can pass like ghosts through locks; /
I've seen ships, when docking, cross dry land; /
And jump like magic, through Doryiskom's docks; //
~dun-dun-dah~

There's only once, a day you can assult me; /
Murder's not always, in-stan-tan-e-ous affair; /
Unless he's dumb, poison's not really all that stealthy; /
You don't need fuel, to use a tajine, only air; //
~dun-dun-dah~

#sweeping chorus change#
How do I carry gaaaaaaas; /
Or water sans, a cup or glaaaaaaass; /
Or how it is, that I can paaaaaassss; /
Notes through windows, three huts away; /
I should whisper in your eeeeeeaaaarrr; /
Lest the gods in charge overheeeeaarrrrr; /
Or they just might, my deeeeaaaarrrr; /
Change it all, and no longer, works that way!; //
~BOOOoooww!~

#original cuban-style beat#
How are there fresh lakes, but not one sign of rivers; /
Sail a galleon, into the wind, all by myself; /
Perhaps the gods are not takers, they are givers; /
And though tools rot, the food will not, upon a shelf; //
~dun-dun-dah~

#sweeping chorus change#
Just one leg, well that's okaaaaaaay; /
You can still transport, fifteen-kaaaaaaay; /
But weight distribution, there's no waaaaaaay; /
Wheelborrows or backpacks will not works; /
And I think that it is ruuuuude; /
Wild animals hunt no fooooood; /
But if it strikes them, in the mooooood; /
They'll at-tack humans, no provication, stupid jerks!; //
~BOOOoooww!~

#original cuban-style beat#
I take it back, the gods, they still are loopy; /
But whether evil, or good, it is not plain; /
Though I eat, I don't urinate or poopy; /
Just like gods, perhaps it's ~me~ whose gone insane! //
~DUN-DUN-DAH~

Good night, everyone. I'm going to go ~not~ drink any water and see how long I last!

[you know, I just realized that the main verses sort of fit in with the Brady Bunch theme song]

============

Shaudawn: Say 'good night', Biin.

Biin: Good night, Biin!

Shaudawn: So long and thanks for all the fish.

Biin: *He elbows Shaudawn in the ribs* Glug, glug.

Shaudawn: Oh, go back to your 5D banana slug, you goof.
--Shaudawn

"We all know that art is not the truth, art is a lie that makes us realize the truth." --Picasso

"Another belief of mine: that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise. " --M. Atwood
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Wolfsong
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby Wolfsong » Sat Jun 15, 2019 3:49 am

There are ragequits, and there are ragequits, and I'm rather impressed with this one.

Yeah, losing a character sucks. And yeah, the end is never satisfying. That's what PK is, if that's what you're on about here.
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Genie
LO - Turkish/RD - Tailor
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby Genie » Sat Jun 15, 2019 1:06 pm

I'm sorry about losing another well played character to a changing green world, but at the other hand I'm sure you too accept that he was mostly a shadow of his old self since long. I have a character who had plans involving him and some other characters (when the radios were still active and probably three years ago or so) but when they have finally met it was like there's not much to reach for. However I wish your char a good journey to the otherworld. I hope one day he can reborn in a different form.
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
Edgar Allan Poe
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PaintedbyRoses
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby PaintedbyRoses » Sat Jun 15, 2019 5:15 pm

Shaudawn was one of the few characters with power who was kind and fair and generous to my characters who were obviously not played by a power-player. We all have our time when our game is finished, rest in peace.
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Millhouse
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby Millhouse » Sat Jun 15, 2019 6:14 pm

Adios, Shaudawn. We had some good times. Whatever alternate dimension Biin and Shaudawn have wandered in to is lucky to have them. I hope it's the change you need.
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cutecuddlydirewolf
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby cutecuddlydirewolf » Sat Jun 15, 2019 9:07 pm

Shaudawn was a good character. I had several in Olip myself over the years, and I always enjoyed role-playing with him.

But what can be said in the end, except that he got in over his head? :wink: Chasing around violent characters after being warned not to amounts to natural selection in the end.
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Alladinsane
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Re: Can't take it anymore; thus reacheth thy denouement

Postby Alladinsane » Sun Jun 16, 2019 3:14 am

Best of luck to you in the future Shaudawn.
A famous wise man once said absolutely nothing!

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