<font color=steelblue>Welcome to My World.

All will bow before me here!

This Forum was handed to me on my 26th birthday five years ago as my first Domain of Power.
The Power is soo sweet, but my insatiable hunger for more grew and with that, so did the seed of Shadow that enshrouds me, and so now we get to the why that brings you here.

Great fools that you are.

Challenges such as these are common for those like me.
I have met them in the past and have always walked away from the bloody battle fields where to this day laying upon those fields are the corpses of your predecesors.

Go see for yourself, and foresee your doom.

Most interestingly however is that some of you managed to get lucky the last time we played this little game you so love and actually escape Death when I was called away to my Tower to conduct other needful business.

It matters nothing to me that you have this to boast about, for while you come to me with your boasting and ignorant pride, you'll not see the Shadows lurking behind you.

Therefore I say to you, Welcome to My World. Its a World of Shadow and those whose eyes are seeking a passage back to the safety of reality...its too late.

You already belong to me. </font>

[ 01-20-2007, 12:16 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

Let's say that some of us are brighter than the rabble, not all of us are trying to raise a torch in the darkness, some of us are trying to grab a chunk of the shadow for our own.

Should you need us, we are at your beck and call as long as it serves our purposes.

All we need are instructions as to how we might enter your dread domain so the battle can be joined!

<font color=8fbc8f>Ah, a sniveler amongst the gladiators. Do you have knee pads of extra cushioning?

Torch, who needs a torch, can you not see in the dark?

Instructions? Yes, understand your senses, allow your extremities to tell your brain what is there but not seen, what is felt but not heard, what cannot be fathomable to one who has yet to encompass the field of battle may not bring emotion to register!</font>

<font color=steelblue>There are two paths that lead to this land and subsequently to this very battlefield where the blood of do-gooders will spoil the ground and cause Nature Herself to forsake this thread forevermore. The first is merely walking in through the front door by entering the forum and choosing to partake in this battle. The second is by way of the inter-forum portal that I have designed in the General Discussions forum which brings all to this very thread where we now stand.

Those that oppose me can worry about rallying themselves to whatever banner they will fight under.

Those that accept me as their Master and fight against the good-aligned will be grateful for whatever scraps I toss down to them, but nobody will merely take Power from me, and will be destroyed for trying.

</font>

The Modding Mage stops talking over the loud-speaker and the Shadows around him swirl and dance about as he begins an incantation.

<font color=steelblue>"Con el Poder que tengo, llamo por allí un juez que se presenta!!"

Before this game commences, a judge will arrive that will be neutral to all parties involved. He will set the rules of engagement and the penalties involved if anyone misbehaves, including myself.

Therefore prepare yourselves and present your character on the field with those that you favor. Stats are not important here. Just come and be ready with keeping yourself alive.

You'll fail, but don't let that stop you from trying...</font>

[ 01-20-2007, 11:39 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

I can't say I care much for this attitude, even for an evil overlord you seem a tad uppity.

Such as you act, I think that I shall take to the field with the forces of light, after all. I crave more than mere "scraps," and once you are gone, there will only be weakened defenders of "good" to deal with. We'll deal with you first, then afterwards I'll take what I deserve.

That is, unless you have a better offer. My services are nothing to scoff at.

<font color=steelblue>The Mage sneers at his one-time minion who has now decided to join the other side rather than bask in the shadows of his Master. The battlefield ground shook as a bolt of lightening surged downward and struck the earth, burning a scar into it. The bolt travelled along a straight path until the field was divided by this unholy mark, separating the Mage from the opposing force. On the other side of that scar stood Purple Neb, the first of the opposers to make an official stand for the other side. </font>

[ 01-20-2007, 11:50 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

"How charming, the mage has learned how to create fireworks!" Purple laughed, "The line has been drawn then, literally," he raised his voice, "To me, all those who would oppose the despot! To me, all who would rather rule themselves than be crushed into the dirt! To me, all who would rather seek their own glory than live off his scraps!"

Then he produced a pack of cards from the recesses of his gear and sat down in the dust to play a game of Solitaire, "It'll be a while yet before they show," he told the spellcaster, "Don't you have some hole in the ground full of traps and beasts to retire to, so that we'll at least have some fun flushing you out and dragging you before the crowds?"

<font color=steelblue>Never have I resided in any hole, rather its always been a Tower...and this you have you forgotten, ex-minion?

Besides, I would rather not drag this out. All of your new playmates are looking for Death, and I must not keep them waiting, as eager as you all are, I'm sure.

</font>

<font color=green>Seemingly out of no where, a form runs past Purple, knocking his cards all over as he does.
A quick "Sorry," is muttered as he runs, jumping happily over to the other side of the scarred land.

"So...you're on that side then eh?" He asks the man with the cards.</font color>

Off in the distance, a large being can be seen walking towards the field of battle. He is clad in a high school letter jacket, an "N" emblazened on the left breast. Icons of a football and a man lifting a great amount weight are on the N. On the back of the jacket, various football shaped patches, bearing titles such as "District Champs - 2A" can be seen. He takes off his jacket and sets it aside. In bold letters, the words "Ironmen Football" can be seen on his shirt. In other words, he's a jock. A large one.

He makes his way to the man in purple, standing beside him.

"I heard there was a nerd around here who needed to be put back into his place."