SpartacustheGreat, The Wordsmith
1/21/2017 6:44 PM
12 wins / 9 losses
I hate Mondays.
California Death School
An orgy of sex and blood.
Ruins of Albion
Here be dragons.
Recent PostsThe Sages' Library on 1/20/2017 2:04:14 AM
What do you recommend we fix?January New Frontier Contest on 1/16/2017 4:35:49 PM
I've written about a thousand words, I lack motivation.The Wardens' Fort on 1/15/2017 11:38:17 PM
As the lone warrior stalked down the long and lonely hallways of the gigantic fortress, his footsteps echoed behind him, sending reverberations throughout the whole structure. The Northern Fort was truly an awesome sight to behold- even though there usually was no one around to behold it. The various fortresses and strongholds of the Order of the Wardens were scattered all throughout the realm, each and every one of them sturdy and very well defended. They had to be, with the Marauders causing havoc everywhere with their raids, raping everyone and whatnot. But there were two things that set the Northern Fort apart from the rest. One was the sheer size of the structures, the towers seemed to stretch up to the clouds, and then some. The walls were made of solid iron, and thick as a dozen men put together. You could get lost for hours within the maze-like hallways of the buildings if you did not know your way. Of course, if you got lost, you were not a true Warden- and did not belong. The other factor was the damned weather. The winds would howl and bite at one’s cheeks all day and night, and frostbite and hypothermia were a constant danger to everyone. Worse of all was the snow. It never stopped snowing this far north. It was as if God was pissing on them all and taunting them as his waters froze and turned into white sludge. Huge piles of it built up on the roofs of the wooden barracks- once even crashing in through one of the roofs, killing half a dozen people. The fortress was large enough for a thousand men and women to stay there indefinitely, cramped into the small barracks like sardines. The bread was stale and the wine was weak, but the life of a Warden was not built around comfort. Of course, a little comfort might have eased the anger of the warrior, his armor clanking as he expressed his annoyance through the rough impact of his footsteps. Finally reaching his destination, a large wooden door, he yanked it open and stormed inside. Inside is a dark room with a few candles scattered here and there, just enough light so that the warrior can see directly in front of him. There is a single wooden desk, with a tall, imposing figure sitting on a small oak chair behind it. As the man leaned forward, coming into view, the warrior noticed his intimidating skull helmet- the animal it belonged to had to have been the last of its kind, because nobody had ever seen anything like it. The horns stretched out wide behind it, making Buck look a lot larger than he actually was. The slender jaws of the helmet seemed to be constantly leering at him, as if examining whether he would be its next meal. Of course, the helmet was far more preferable to what was underneath... Buck finally spoke up, his voice raspy and grating. “So why are you interrupting my very busy schedule once again, Spartacus? Surely this isn’t about that book idea you had yesterday?” “I’m sorry Buck, but this is bullshit! What do you mean I can’t write about a capybara getting his asshole explored by a couple of brave adventurers, that’s a fantastic and original idea!” “It’s immature. Writing about a literal butthole would lead to too much toilet humor- and while that might have been funny in the past, we have to move on from that kind of stuff from now on. Besides, it’s not technically “discovering” something, because I know for a fact that Malk’s ass has already been discovered and thoroughly explored by several black dicks.” “Come on! Everybody loves a little bit of toilet humor, and my adventurers would examine how the black dicks have had an effect on the flora and fauna of the environment! It’s fucking educational!” “My hands are tied, Spartacus. I need you to run a few errands for me, anyhow, you’ve got no time for writing your childish stories.” The warrior sighs in exasperation. “Fine, fine, give me the damn grocery list so I can pick up your milk.” “It’s a little more complicated than that, I’m afraid. You’re going to travel about... 500 miles south, give or take. On horseback.” “What?! Why the fuck for, my ass is going to be sore for the entire year!” “Mind your language, the overlords are watching us. You need to go to the rest of the forts, check up on a few of them because I haven’t been getting any messages from them. Whether it’s because their fort’s been destroyed or they’re just too lazy to write a couple words on a scrap of paper, I don’t know, but it’s vital that all our forts remain active. You know what the Marauders are doing nowadays, right? They’re getting more dangerous by the month, and we need to stop them wherever we can. Remember, we’re the glue that barely binds this wreck of a realm together. Without us, it all falls apart.” “...Alright, I’ll sacrifice my ass for the good of the realm and the Order.” “That’s the spirit. Oh, and check up on the Sages and the Architects while you’re down there, see how they’re doing. They’re probably doing even worse than they are.” ... Spartacus trudges through the snow, heading for the stables. “Fuck! Well, guess I’m going to have to get this over with...Mom? You in here?” A large black mare trots over, snorting. “There you are. How are y-” I take a look at its behind, and groan. “Mom, have people been molesting you again? There sure are a lot of sick freaks out there.” I saddle her up and swing myself up on top of Mom, riding her. “Well, Mom, we’ve got a long journey ahead of us. Please don’t go as fast as last time, my ass bruised for a month after that.” With that, they trot out of the stable, through the courtyard, and out through the iron gates of the Northern Fort. The biting winds of nature howl all around Spartacus as he looks towards the long winding road south, the snow starting to pile up in his hair. “It’s a fucking long way south...well, let’s get going, Mom. Daylight’s burning and we’d better get there before that Scottish penguin mucks something up.” And with that, they head down the road, the titanic shadow of the Northern Fort looming behind them.Resume's on 1/13/2017 3:26:33 PM
Youtube vlogging.Proof on 1/11/2017 4:35:34 PM
I bet you needed your regeneration powers for a month after this beatdown.January New Frontier Contest on 1/10/2017 8:08:56 PM
Well today I opened the storygame editor and stared at it for about ten minutes. If I'm feeling really productive tomorrow, I might even write a paragraph.January New Frontier Contest on 1/10/2017 8:07:27 PM
I know that feel. I have a 68 in AP Calc, don't know why I took it.Fuck, well someone had to do it on 1/10/2017 1:57:10 AM
Fuck you and your kind you do nothing but pillage You're wannabe Mongolians living in your village You do nothing but destroy society it's true We're stuck centuries in the past because of you But I'm a Warden here to lock your ass up Make you shit in your plate and piss in your cup Get ready to get your ass smashed in When some redneck rapist fucks you like his kin I hate oranges, they taste as weak as your rhymes You're nothing but a half-assed version of the lime Oh by the way thanks for wrecking this year By giving us Don J Trump for the world to fearCoins' motivational thread on 1/8/2017 11:21:21 PM
Well, I better get cracking on my storygame for the contest now that the forum games are shut down. Pages: 0/??? Endings: 0/???The Council of Nine: Hopeless and Broken on 1/7/2017 5:34:01 PM
What is this wretched hive of scum and villainy?