Ford, The Reader

Member Since

2/2/2014

Last Activity

9/19/2020 1:30 AM

EXP Points

0

Post Count

3545

Storygame Count

0

Duel Stats

271 wins / 188 losses

Order

Architect

Commendations

10

Trophies Earned

Rated 79.6% of all Stories

Storygames

unpublished

~
unpublished
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Recent Posts

# on 9/19/2020 1:23:57 AM
It's the group who did manage the end along with people who are useless at the game in one area. Also this will happen over the spawn zone so...

# on 9/19/2020 1:06:08 AM
The players were frozen with infinite slowness. Their gaze set upon the arena they created. The stands were filled with villagers stomping their feet in unison. They could feel the thunderous drumming in their chests as the cheiftan walked to center stage. Trapped with a fantastic view of their demise, the chanting of the crowd began.

"I FUCKING TOLD YOU SHITS IT WAS A TRAP!" Mizal caps-locked into the chat. The players who had defeated the End together stood enjoying the show, but kept their wits about.

"We should probably treat this like a dungeon." Chef put in the chat. Enter, Chris, and Canary agreed. The slowness had them pinned but they were left in their full god-level enchanted gear. Mizal knew she would be one of the first to die. Cricket regretted not getting a mouse to be better able to run away.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH TA NI LO TOHLAHT!" screamed the chieftan. The villagers, gathered in a circle wide as the eye could see fell to silence as the maiden of the summoning began to sing her long beautiful notes. Blocks of obsidian began to float into the air with a forboding purple particle effect and it began to rain. Some villagers in the stands were struck by lightning. The maiden chanted her song of ritual without hesitation.

The obsidian began to create a circle above the center arena. With a clap of thunder a portal was created - and the crowd began stomping their feet. The maiden screamed and belted her song up to the portal which grew bigger by the second. Mobs began falling through - wither skeletons riding ravagers, all armored up and enchanted.

"Not so bad...yet" Enters' mouth watered thinking of the loot he'd get off the dozens of armored skeleton warriors.

Thunder struck again and distant screams of the damned bellowed across the land. With that, Three dragons emerged from the portal. One, surrounded by lightning - roared and created a wall of lightning bolts that spread across the land. Another of fire burned away hundreds of villagers in the crowd in an instant. The other simply flew in circles while the portal continued to get larger and disperse more foot-soldier mobs.

"Fuck." Mizal looked at her death approaching.

"It'll be an uphill battle." Chris said, impressed by the elemental dragons.

Chef had a plan in his head about how to take it all. That was, until a blackstone hand larger than any of the dragons emerged from the portal - grabbing the obsidian ring floating in the sky.

"WTF WTF WTF" Canary spammed the chat. Chef gulped. The maiden was singing more intensely now, less like an enchantress and more like an angry demoness cursing the heavens. The second hand came through, crashing with its palm to the ground and causing an earthshattering gorge to split the stadium. Villagers began to burn and turn into fiery wither skeletons. Lava rose from the cracked landscape and the maiden built up to her final scream. A war cry unlike any other. The head emerged from the portal - dwarfing anything seen before it, an eyeless scorched skull had come through.

"Oh fuck." Chef's plan had boiled down into a single word: run.

The beast from the portal reacted with its own deathly howl. Asteroids fell from the sky and the world around them lit aflame. The trees withered away before their eyes. Grass turned to netherrack, stone to lava, and the stadium attendees were instantly consumed along with the maiden.

The final boss had fully emerged from the portal now, and stood hundreds of blocks tall. The gathered CYStians looked into the abyss of the monsters' face - and it looked back.

Just saying hi. on 9/15/2020 3:53:45 PM
hi

~ on 9/10/2020 3:58:12 AM
The morning light shone through the throne room windows. It was at a higher elevation than the rest of the castle, except the lookout towers - most of which were still being built by scrap bots. The vaulted ceilings brought about a great space for battle. Chanbot enjoyed the view. The castle throne room sat with its back embedded into the side of a mountain so as to protect and support the taller structures, but also to deter attacks from the back and funnel attacks to the front.

Chanbot sat upon the throne of concrete and went over the most likely scenarios. "If they come through the front, I will be protected by the invisible ultra-hardened glass wall in front of the throne. If Maz actually ends up doing something of substance, they may die to that. If they don't, my robot army will arrive while Maz stalls." Chanbot had reluctantly checked to ensure his combat specific body was ready, taking Mad's words of warning into consideration. Maz was busy chanting and dancing about the "curse-circle" on the floor of the room. He was chosen purely as an excellent distraction; speaking the dead language of some mythical place called "France" he moonwalked about, saying some unintelligible jibberish. "If they come from any other direction their human reactions will be too slow." Chanbot's processors worked on trillions of calculations every second. He saw the world as an author describes scenes in a book: in slow motion and great detail. He knew that even if he couldn't avoid damage to his current form, he would see it coming and be able to process his next set of moves before any mere human could take a breath. Nobody who walked through the gates and up to the throne room had any chance of winning from the very beginning.

Everything from bombing to somehow convincing MHD to help them to reviving that monsterous rock beast woman was considered and played out in his central processing servers and data sent back for analysis. They played like movies to Chanbot, except each only lasting a minute or so before the conclusion would inevitably end up being his win and their death. He simulated armies, his own army turning against him, the building collapsing in on him, but none of it mattered. The strength of even his general robotic form was enough to resist almost all forms of physical harm. Even starting the simulation on the presumption that somehow he would be forced to use his battle-ready body, it became even more unlikely thta he would lose. "It'll be like they're fighting someone who can travel through time. My analysis and predictions are faster than they--"

A blip of blackness.

It was as though his core processor blinked, and Chanbot's emergency diagnostics had begun. The world moved in excessive slow motion before him. He determined his immediate surroundings, and replayed the last second before the small outage. Nothing was detected on any sensor. Nothing was gained by the analysis. Maz, frozen in nanoseconds, was still dancing, and Chanbot could see him spinning like a dunce. His visual sensors became tilted and the diagnostic report came through:

ERROR 2040:
HEAD MODULE DISCONNECTED WITHOUT PERMISSION
CORE PROCESSOR ACTIVATED VOLUMETRIC SENSING
UPLOAD TO BACKUP BODY CB_COMBAT? Y/N: _


Chanbot had been instantly decapitated. There was only one thought remaining in his deep nueral network: "Well, that was unexpected."

Halloween Writing Jam on 9/8/2020 2:57:37 PM
Note: the people at CoG are neither friendly nor chill.

Halloween Writing Jam on 9/8/2020 2:53:31 PM
Usually people start with being able to read before they start writing.

Scripted Satchel on 8/26/2020 7:44:25 PM
You'll definitely need some scripting.

Did I miss an article somewhere? on 8/25/2020 9:56:14 AM
Possible. Difficult. Ask BD.

Did I miss an article somewhere? on 8/21/2020 5:29:35 PM
hawt

Did I miss an article somewhere? on 8/21/2020 4:42:03 PM