a nice tale from Planescape forum

250 · 03-04-2001, 07:41 AM

Author: ashaman
Date: 12/10/00 4:40:00 AM
Subject: Bhaalspawn vs. The Nameless One... film at 11

Some guy on the BG2 board started an innocent thread about who would win between The Baldur's Gate dude and The Nameless One. This was my response. Figured it's of as much interest here as anywhere else:

Minsc, Jaheira, Aerie and Jan wait impatiently until Imoen emerges soundlessly from the shadows. ‘There’s no sign of him, boss. I scouted out everywhere.’
The rest of the party turn to look at their leader, who is wearing a frown. ‘That can’t be… Irenicus must be around here somewhere. I _will _ get my soul back… And make him pay for what he has done!’
Minsc almost bit through his greatsword with fury. ‘That villain will not escape our wrath again… We will kick his butt with great prejudice!’ He bangs his sword on the wall, causing an unholy clamour. ‘Come out and smell what’s cooking, evildoers! JUSTICE is served!!!’

Suddenly, with a strange _ripping _ sound, a section of air in front of the party tears open, bathing the area in a pale blue glow. It is a planar portal, although none of our heroes recognise it as such. Out of it steps a tall, incredibly scarred man with the most haunted, _tormented _ expression any of them can remember witnessing. Following him come a scantily-clad young lady with a swishing rat’s tail, a gaunt looking fellow with a sword that twists and shapes itself seemingly under its own power, a six-limbed bronzed cube wielding crossbows, an imposing suit of armour, a winged woman with a look of unnatural beauty… and a floating skull.
The skull looks around. ‘Well hell, chief, I don’t mean to be a killjoy but I think we’ve taken a wrong turning somewhere along the way… Cos it doesn’t look like we’re in Baator anymore, Toto.’
The tormented man glares. ‘Trias… Don’t think you can escape this easily… I’ll find you yet…’
The skull turns to the gawping adventurers. ‘Hey, berks, any of you guys happen to know the nearest portal back to Curst? Post haste.’

Aerie takes a step back. ‘Curst? Portal? What? What? Who _are _ you people?’ She looks helplessly to the party’s leader. ‘…Oh, _do _ something, please?…’
The skull groans and shakes himself. ‘It’s worse that I figured, boss. Primes! Geeesh!’
Minsc strides forward until he is face-to-face with their scarred leader. ‘Who are you freaks, to come charging out of thin air just when are trying to plan our revenge against villains most foul? And your answer better be good, because I an in a _smiting _ mood!’
‘You’d better watch you tongue, Prime… If ye wants to keep it!’ the rat-tailed woman snarls.
The winged lady steps forward. All the male members of the baldur’s gate party suddenly find themselves staring, and try to drag themselves back to paying attention. ‘Let me handle this, girl,’ she says calmly. ‘We mean no harm…’ - discreetly kicking the rat-girl in the shins - ‘We are just… travellers, who appear to have temporarily, ah, lost our way…’

Aerie tugs at their leader’s shirt. ‘Boss? …that… uh, woman… with the… uh, wings… I think she’s… a… a… tana’ri…’
He nods grimly. ‘And that floating skull reminds me of a certain demi-lich from my recent experience.’
Jan surreptitiously loads his crossbow. ‘How many XP d’ya think they’re worth?’

The skull cautiously floats level to the scarred man’s left ear. ‘Y’see how all those folks are not -so-subtly making to try and pen us in the dead-book? Well, I don’t know about you, but if I have to stop and pick up all my stuff off the ground _one more time _…’
The scarred man nods calmly. ‘On my signal…’

Jaheira was nervous. All these creatures appearing out of nowhere… and that strange woman who made her feel somehow… inadequate… not that she cared of such things… her heart belonged to Khalid for now and evermore, of course, but… ‘I tell you, those planar creatures are planning something against us,’ she whispers.
‘Yes,’ says baldur’s gate guy. ‘Wait until I say…’

CHARGE!!!

The two groups leap at each other simultaneoulsy. Warriors charge to the front and start battling, while mages and healers hang back, hastily casting protective spells…

Taking sight on Jan, Morte readied his best one, his numero uno curse, a curse so vile and insulting that it almost seemed to take on physical form as it writhed and twisted its way through the air between them.
Jan blinks, belches and scratches himself. ‘Hmmm… That’s an interesting one, and no mistake. I haven’t heard language like that since Uncle Spakey barked his shins on the turnip barrow. Oh my, that reminds me of the time that…’
Entranced and completely bemused by Jan’s long-winded story, Morte stops trying to bite him long enough to listen.

Minsc and Vhailor steam into each other, joyously shouting battle cries and striking great blows upon each other.
‘Butt-kicking… for goodness!’ cries Minsc, raining blows upon his armoured foe.
‘The death of Mercy is the Birth of Justice!’ declares Vhailor, delivering a stunning blow to his adversary’s helm that would have knocked a normal man senseless.
‘Minsc smash you good!’
‘Justice will prevail!’
Minsc pauses from yelling just long enough to ask: ‘…What you say?’
Vhailor leans on his axe. ‘Justice… it is the single Absolute Verity of our Existence, that the rule of Justice and Law shall inevitably level the rubble of Chaos and Disorder.’
Minsc frowns. ‘You know, I have never heard it put quite like that before, but I think you might have just a glimpse of the right idea. You say?’
‘If your passion for inflicting Justice upon the Forces of Chaos, is equal to mine, then it is so.’
‘Minsc has _never _ before met a man (or woman or small rodent of any kind) with the desire to smite evil as great as his. Do you think you can?’
Vhailor chuckles deeply. ‘In the Uprising on Santor IIX two thousand years ago, I personally Executed ten thousand of the Dissidents and Rabble-Rousers.’
‘You know, that does smack of great dedication… The wear and tear upon axe-heads alone… I do believe we may have something in common. Come let us talk a while…’

Listening in on Jan, Nordom quickly began to be confused by the intricacies of his tale. Soon, he is forced to shutdown all combat functions and devote the entirety of his runtime to computing the logic of the tale…
‘Of course, back then, we didn’t call them Treants, but Zozogs. Why, I remember the time that Aunt Jemima had a Treant stuck in her hair for three months, and didn’t notice until its roots started growing down over her face. Then it was cousin Jimminy who cottoned on first (he always was the brains of the family), and he cried out: “Look out auntie, you’ve got a Zozog in your hair!”… Ahh, those were the days… So anyways, my and my cousin had to go down to Trademeet to get some basilisk powder, which everyone knows is the only way to remove Zozogs from hair…’
Unable to compute what he was hearing, Nordom’s CPU finally overloads and burns out, a faint trickle of smoke oozing out of the corner of his case.

Arm in arm, Minsc and Vhailor walk away from the carnage and into a new life.
‘I bags first smiting!’
‘Very well, warrior of Toril. The Honour of the first kill I shall cede to you.’
‘…And together, what a glorious symphony of smitage we shall produce! Evil will quail at the very shadow of our names… Minsc and Armour Guy! Yes, they will, won’t they, boo?’
-= squeak! =-

Bludgeoning her way through the melee of warriors and summoned beasts, Jaheira finally comes face-to-face with Grace. ‘Hah, you cheap hussies are all the same! Think you can steal him away from me?’ she cries, raining blows upon her.
‘What _are _ you talking about, woman?’ asks Grace.
‘I don’t care about him the least, of course! I am entirely devoted to the memory of Khalid! But don’t you _dare _ even touch him!’
With a final brutal blow, she knocks Grace to the ground, mortally injured.
‘Damn hussy, always trying to steal him away from me despite the fact I absolutely don’t care about him at all… What do you say to that, huh??!’
‘Call Lightning,’ Grace said.
‘Huh? But everyone knows you can’t cast that indoo…’ Jaheira looked upwards just in time to see a massive bolt of electricity come arcing downwards from the ceiling, blasting them both to a crisp. That naughty planar magic, I guess…

‘…thousands and thousand of cats,’ Jan was saying, getting carried away in his tale. ‘Or wait, was that from the _other _ story about the time Aunt Schala… Aaaargh! Stop it! Gerrof! Stop biting me!’ Morte, having tired of listening to his long-winded expositions, started trying to bite him to death again.

Jan turned and started running as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. Morte chased him all the way back to Athkatla, where, in a tragic case of mistaken identity, a massive cry of ‘demi-lich!’, ‘demi-lich!’ was sent up. Priests of Lanthandar, Helm, Talos and Bob banded together and saturation-bombed the area with hundreds of holy smites and sunrays. Microscopic particles of floating skull were later found as far away as Ravenloft, where they still retained the near miraculous ability to intensely irritate anyone within 10 feet.

Aerie was hanging round the outskirts of the massive magical storm raging over the conflict, wringing her hands in desperation and hoping that someone would tell her what to do. Suddenly, an unseen voice whispered in her ear:
‘Lesson 1: If you want to be a potent and powerful spellcaster and impress all your circus-freak friends with your great magical prowess, _don’t _ multi-class to a cleric. Now look at you… you can hardly cast anything worthwhile.’
Aerie span round, confused.
The voice came again, from a different direction. ‘Lesson 2: You hair! I don’t know what you were trying to do, but I’ve seen better fashion on a wererat!’
‘Who… who are you?’
‘Lesson 3:…’ With a sudden lithe movement, Annah steps from the shadows and plunges her crystal punch daggers into Aerie’s back. ‘…life’s a _bitch _.’
She wiped the daggers off and re-holstered them. Job well done, she thought, never even knew what hit her…

Only the faintest of sounds alerted her as Imoen emerged from deeper shadows behind her, Black Blade of Disaster in hand. ‘Yes. Yes it…’

* smack! *

Imoen and Dakkon now faced each other across the smouldering ruins of what had once been the battleground. Seeing that he needed to get his shot off first, Dakkon cast Abyssal Fury at Imoen, who was sucked down into the farthest pits of hell, surrounded by hundreds of ravening demons. To his surprise, when she came back she seemed not only unharmed, but was wielding Blackrazor, wearing a very stylish coat made out of nymphs and muttering something about Bhaal. In return, she fired off Time Stop, Greater Malison, Finger of Death and Cloudkill. Knocked reeling by this magical onslaught, Dakkon quickly gulped down a potion of Cranium Rat concentrate and blasted her with 50 000 elysium’s tears, only to his shock have most of them bounce off her spell turning and come flying right back at him.
‘Damn your cheezy BG2 spells and items!’ he cries, while dodging furiously. But before the conflict could escalate further, dozens of Cowled Wizards gated in all around them.
‘You’re coming with us,’ they said, zapping them both of them with tazers and gating out with them.

Seeing that all of their companions were gone, the Nameless One broke from his solo battle with BG dude and cracked open the mysterious bronze sphere he had been carrying around with him. He cried out with surprise as all the memories of his past lives came pouring out… all those memories… all those lives…
‘Ah… _that _ is my name…’
With a grim smile, TNO launches a Rune of Torment at Baldur’s Gate dude. Suddenly, BG guy cries out in unholy agony as his form begins to twist and change… reforming into the hideous visage of The Slayer. He laughs nastily as the magical energies of the Rune explode and boil off harmless off him. TNO glares at him: ‘Well, if you want to play it _that _ way…’
He draws the Entropic blade and charges. The Slayer flexes its claws and bounds forward, chittering with unholy glee at the chance to rip limb from limb. They collide and hit each other so hard that…
The rest of the multiverse is destroyed in a massive concussion.

THE END (happy now?

)

Epona · 03-04-2001, 10:29 AM

ROTFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Absolute classic, stop it, stop it!

(Epona rolls off her chair and onto the floor, no longer able to laugh *and* breath at the same time)

------------------

Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.

Accord · 03-04-2001, 11:20 AM

Clap! Clap! Clap! Another fine piece of writing I see...

------------------
Long live H22A1!!!!!

03-04-2001, 12:01 PM

ABSOLOUTLY QUALITY

a real classic

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250 · 03-04-2001, 12:18 PM

!!this is a copied post from planetbg.com forum, original author Drakon!!

Author: Drakon <->
Date: 3/4/01 8:36:00 AM
Subject: RE: Old post from page 13 (very long) about this f

This is a slightly different version of the story.
First of all, i actually liked the story, I really do.
But the ending where every one was killed

They were my favourite chars, I didn't want them killed so....

Before the two groups could do anything, a vooice booms across the space between them, "Stop! There is no need 4 violence!".
TNO:Whose voice is that?
Morte: Beats me chief, I may be an expert on the planes but I don't know everything.
Nordom: Checking voice parameters. Property unknown. Identification unknown...
Dak'kon: This voice is not known 2 me.
The Bg party just go with a simple ?????
As both parties were figuring out what was going on, a figure teleported into the space between them. He was dressed in the strangest of ways. Clothed in a black tunic with a symbol of a mountain with lightning, the words Black Isle, wearing a pair what could be called magnifying lenses except they seemed to be thinner and it seemed to be permanently attached to his eyes, carrying a strange white rectangular contraption with cubes on it...
Voice person: no need 4 violence u r all on the same side...
Dak'kon: You are not known to me...
TnO:Who the Hell are you?
Voice person tells about himself. Identifies himself as game designer and beta tester. Explains his job and such. Then explains situation, why there is no need 4 fight.
TNO:If what you say is true, I have a bone to pick with u..
Imoen: Me too.
BG guy: Me three!
Game designer: Eh?
Imoen: u r the one that decides the story? Fancy that putting me into all kinds of s**t!for the sake of story , leave me with this sick maniac Irenicus, u really must hate my guts or something.
Minsc:You, u kill off Minsc's witch!
TNO: You are the one that controls my actions, you must have fun getting me killed over and over again 4 your sadistic pleasure! You made it so I can't die. Well, I"m sick of it!
Bg guy: You? Bcos of you, I"m stuck with Aerie. What the hell is wrong with you. of all people you have to pick aerie to be in MY party, when i can be having a hot sexy dark elf Viconia in my arms every night! Plus, she's a better cleric too! You really piss me off.
Game guy: There's nothing u can do about it, I'm in charge.
Both parties are not impressed, they have more grouses to the game designer(feel free to add your own i n future posts)they become hostile. 4 a moment, they forget about beating each other up, the 12 of them uniting against a common enemy.
Game Guy: U dare attack me here, do u even know what u face?
BgGuy: We don't give a damn, right scarred man?
TNO grins.
Game Guy: Come closer or feel the power of the almighty keyboard!
Dakk'on: Let's see it face my anger.(u know what spell he is casting)
The game guy knows he is in trouble. Time 4 a hasty exit.As everyone gathers their most powerful spells and attacks, he hits [SpaceBar]. time is at a standstill, giving him plenty of time to make his escape...
Eventually, time resumes. Whole bunches of spells, both high and low leveled land at where he was standing moments b4.
As the dust settles, the party of 12 realise their target has eluded them.
As they stared at each other, they suddenly both feel they both had something in common. Both of them victims to lousy game designs, sadistic players(and bad stories like this one). This is the time they both get to know each other beter.
TNO: I guess it wouldn't hurt to make a little detour. My mortality's not goin newhere, so i'll help u hunt your elusive mage.
Morte: Yeah, got plenty of taunts to try out on him, heh heh....
Fall-From-Grace: Jaheira, we should talk
Jaheira: I got nothing to say to u tanarri.
Fall-From-Grace: Mayhap if I taught you how to cast call lightning indoors?
Jaheira: You...hmmmm, i'll consider.

And they all walk off, the party of 12 into the sunset, the best of friends.

O.k I know this is a bad story, this is my first time o.k?
And besides, I just didn't like the thought of my characters kiled off.
Feel free to add or (drastically) improve my story..
You can also flame me 4 posting such low quality work 2..

The Silent One · 03-04-2001, 05:20 PM

Well, well, it is good to know such talent for writing is among us. I tremble to think of a whole game scripted by these guys, as multiple concussions would be the result (falling of chairs while laughing, smacking your forehead to calm down etc.)

GREAT WRITING! SEND US MORE OF IT!

TSO

250 · 03-04-2001, 09:48 PM

Quote:

Originally posted by The Silent One:
Well, well, it is good to know such talent for writing is among us. I tremble to think of a whole game scripted by these guys, as multiple concussions would be the result (falling of chairs while laughing, smacking your forehead to calm down etc.)

GREAT WRITING! SEND US MORE OF IT!

TSO

I just couldnt have enough of those

Dimension X · 03-05-2001, 10:58 AM

Heh

That was good...

------------------
A Drawn Sword;
A Trickle Of Blood;
The Tempest Is Brewing.
Nemesis....

250 · 03-22-2001, 02:43 AM

whenever i read this... i want to BUMP!!!

Accord · 03-22-2001, 02:45 AM

Said it before, say it again: nice work.

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Long live H22A1!!!!!

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03-04-2001, 07:41 AM	#1
250 Horus - Egyptian Sky God Join Date: March 4, 2001 Location: either CA or MO Age: 42 Posts: 2,674	Author: ashaman Date: 12/10/00 4:40:00 AM Subject: Bhaalspawn vs. The Nameless One... film at 11 Some guy on the BG2 board started an innocent thread about who would win between The Baldur's Gate dude and The Nameless One. This was my response. Figured it's of as much interest here as anywhere else: Minsc, Jaheira, Aerie and Jan wait impatiently until Imoen emerges soundlessly from the shadows. ‘There’s no sign of him, boss. I scouted out everywhere.’ The rest of the party turn to look at their leader, who is wearing a frown. ‘That can’t be… Irenicus must be around here somewhere. I _will _ get my soul back… And make him pay for what he has done!’ Minsc almost bit through his greatsword with fury. ‘That villain will not escape our wrath again… We will kick his butt with great prejudice!’ He bangs his sword on the wall, causing an unholy clamour. ‘Come out and smell what’s cooking, evildoers! JUSTICE is served!!!’ Suddenly, with a strange _ripping _ sound, a section of air in front of the party tears open, bathing the area in a pale blue glow. It is a planar portal, although none of our heroes recognise it as such. Out of it steps a tall, incredibly scarred man with the most haunted, _tormented _ expression any of them can remember witnessing. Following him come a scantily-clad young lady with a swishing rat’s tail, a gaunt looking fellow with a sword that twists and shapes itself seemingly under its own power, a six-limbed bronzed cube wielding crossbows, an imposing suit of armour, a winged woman with a look of unnatural beauty… and a floating skull. The skull looks around. ‘Well hell, chief, I don’t mean to be a killjoy but I think we’ve taken a wrong turning somewhere along the way… Cos it doesn’t look like we’re in Baator anymore, Toto.’ The tormented man glares. ‘Trias… Don’t think you can escape this easily… I’ll find you yet…’ The skull turns to the gawping adventurers. ‘Hey, berks, any of you guys happen to know the nearest portal back to Curst? Post haste.’ Aerie takes a step back. ‘Curst? Portal? What? What? Who _are _ you people?’ She looks helplessly to the party’s leader. ‘…Oh, _do _ something, please?…’ The skull groans and shakes himself. ‘It’s worse that I figured, boss. Primes! Geeesh!’ Minsc strides forward until he is face-to-face with their scarred leader. ‘Who are you freaks, to come charging out of thin air just when are trying to plan our revenge against villains most foul? And your answer better be good, because I an in a _smiting _ mood!’ ‘You’d better watch you tongue, Prime… If ye wants to keep it!’ the rat-tailed woman snarls. The winged lady steps forward. All the male members of the baldur’s gate party suddenly find themselves staring, and try to drag themselves back to paying attention. ‘Let me handle this, girl,’ she says calmly. ‘We mean no harm…’ - discreetly kicking the rat-girl in the shins - ‘We are just… travellers, who appear to have temporarily, ah, lost our way…’ Aerie tugs at their leader’s shirt. ‘Boss? …that… uh, woman… with the… uh, wings… I think she’s… a… a… tana’ri…’ He nods grimly. ‘And that floating skull reminds me of a certain demi-lich from my recent experience.’ Jan surreptitiously loads his crossbow. ‘How many XP d’ya think they’re worth?’ The skull cautiously floats level to the scarred man’s left ear. ‘Y’see how all those folks are not -so-subtly making to try and pen us in the dead-book? Well, I don’t know about you, but if I have to stop and pick up all my stuff off the ground _one more time _…’ The scarred man nods calmly. ‘On my signal…’ Jaheira was nervous. All these creatures appearing out of nowhere… and that strange woman who made her feel somehow… inadequate… not that she cared of such things… her heart belonged to Khalid for now and evermore, of course, but… ‘I tell you, those planar creatures are planning something against us,’ she whispers. ‘Yes,’ says baldur’s gate guy. ‘Wait until I say…’ CHARGE!!! The two groups leap at each other simultaneoulsy. Warriors charge to the front and start battling, while mages and healers hang back, hastily casting protective spells… Taking sight on Jan, Morte readied his best one, his numero uno curse, a curse so vile and insulting that it almost seemed to take on physical form as it writhed and twisted its way through the air between them. Jan blinks, belches and scratches himself. ‘Hmmm… That’s an interesting one, and no mistake. I haven’t heard language like that since Uncle Spakey barked his shins on the turnip barrow. Oh my, that reminds me of the time that…’ Entranced and completely bemused by Jan’s long-winded story, Morte stops trying to bite him long enough to listen. Minsc and Vhailor steam into each other, joyously shouting battle cries and striking great blows upon each other. ‘Butt-kicking… for goodness!’ cries Minsc, raining blows upon his armoured foe. ‘The death of Mercy is the Birth of Justice!’ declares Vhailor, delivering a stunning blow to his adversary’s helm that would have knocked a normal man senseless. ‘Minsc smash you good!’ ‘Justice will prevail!’ Minsc pauses from yelling just long enough to ask: ‘…What you say?’ Vhailor leans on his axe. ‘Justice… it is the single Absolute Verity of our Existence, that the rule of Justice and Law shall inevitably level the rubble of Chaos and Disorder.’ Minsc frowns. ‘You know, I have never heard it put quite like that before, but I think you might have just a glimpse of the right idea. You say?’ ‘If your passion for inflicting Justice upon the Forces of Chaos, is equal to mine, then it is so.’ ‘Minsc has _never _ before met a man (or woman or small rodent of any kind) with the desire to smite evil as great as his. Do you think you can?’ Vhailor chuckles deeply. ‘In the Uprising on Santor IIX two thousand years ago, I personally Executed ten thousand of the Dissidents and Rabble-Rousers.’ ‘You know, that does smack of great dedication… The wear and tear upon axe-heads alone… I do believe we may have something in common. Come let us talk a while…’ Listening in on Jan, Nordom quickly began to be confused by the intricacies of his tale. Soon, he is forced to shutdown all combat functions and devote the entirety of his runtime to computing the logic of the tale… ‘Of course, back then, we didn’t call them Treants, but Zozogs. Why, I remember the time that Aunt Jemima had a Treant stuck in her hair for three months, and didn’t notice until its roots started growing down over her face. Then it was cousin Jimminy who cottoned on first (he always was the brains of the family), and he cried out: “Look out auntie, you’ve got a Zozog in your hair!”… Ahh, those were the days… So anyways, my and my cousin had to go down to Trademeet to get some basilisk powder, which everyone knows is the only way to remove Zozogs from hair…’ Unable to compute what he was hearing, Nordom’s CPU finally overloads and burns out, a faint trickle of smoke oozing out of the corner of his case. Arm in arm, Minsc and Vhailor walk away from the carnage and into a new life. ‘I bags first smiting!’ ‘Very well, warrior of Toril. The Honour of the first kill I shall cede to you.’ ‘…And together, what a glorious symphony of smitage we shall produce! Evil will quail at the very shadow of our names… Minsc and Armour Guy! Yes, they will, won’t they, boo?’ -= squeak! =- Bludgeoning her way through the melee of warriors and summoned beasts, Jaheira finally comes face-to-face with Grace. ‘Hah, you cheap hussies are all the same! Think you can steal him away from me?’ she cries, raining blows upon her. ‘What _are _ you talking about, woman?’ asks Grace. ‘I don’t care about him the least, of course! I am entirely devoted to the memory of Khalid! But don’t you _dare _ even touch him!’ With a final brutal blow, she knocks Grace to the ground, mortally injured. ‘Damn hussy, always trying to steal him away from me despite the fact I absolutely don’t care about him at all… What do you say to that, huh??!’ ‘Call Lightning,’ Grace said. ‘Huh? But everyone knows you can’t cast that indoo…’ Jaheira looked upwards just in time to see a massive bolt of electricity come arcing downwards from the ceiling, blasting them both to a crisp. That naughty planar magic, I guess… ‘…thousands and thousand of cats,’ Jan was saying, getting carried away in his tale. ‘Or wait, was that from the _other _ story about the time Aunt Schala… Aaaargh! Stop it! Gerrof! Stop biting me!’ Morte, having tired of listening to his long-winded expositions, started trying to bite him to death again. Jan turned and started running as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. Morte chased him all the way back to Athkatla, where, in a tragic case of mistaken identity, a massive cry of ‘demi-lich!’, ‘demi-lich!’ was sent up. Priests of Lanthandar, Helm, Talos and Bob banded together and saturation-bombed the area with hundreds of holy smites and sunrays. Microscopic particles of floating skull were later found as far away as Ravenloft, where they still retained the near miraculous ability to intensely irritate anyone within 10 feet. Aerie was hanging round the outskirts of the massive magical storm raging over the conflict, wringing her hands in desperation and hoping that someone would tell her what to do. Suddenly, an unseen voice whispered in her ear: ‘Lesson 1: If you want to be a potent and powerful spellcaster and impress all your circus-freak friends with your great magical prowess, _don’t _ multi-class to a cleric. Now look at you… you can hardly cast anything worthwhile.’ Aerie span round, confused. The voice came again, from a different direction. ‘Lesson 2: You hair! I don’t know what you were trying to do, but I’ve seen better fashion on a wererat!’ ‘Who… who are you?’ ‘Lesson 3:…’ With a sudden lithe movement, Annah steps from the shadows and plunges her crystal punch daggers into Aerie’s back. ‘…life’s a _bitch _.’ She wiped the daggers off and re-holstered them. Job well done, she thought, never even knew what hit her… Only the faintest of sounds alerted her as Imoen emerged from deeper shadows behind her, Black Blade of Disaster in hand. ‘Yes. Yes it…’ * smack! * Imoen and Dakkon now faced each other across the smouldering ruins of what had once been the battleground. Seeing that he needed to get his shot off first, Dakkon cast Abyssal Fury at Imoen, who was sucked down into the farthest pits of hell, surrounded by hundreds of ravening demons. To his surprise, when she came back she seemed not only unharmed, but was wielding Blackrazor, wearing a very stylish coat made out of nymphs and muttering something about Bhaal. In return, she fired off Time Stop, Greater Malison, Finger of Death and Cloudkill. Knocked reeling by this magical onslaught, Dakkon quickly gulped down a potion of Cranium Rat concentrate and blasted her with 50 000 elysium’s tears, only to his shock have most of them bounce off her spell turning and come flying right back at him. ‘Damn your cheezy BG2 spells and items!’ he cries, while dodging furiously. But before the conflict could escalate further, dozens of Cowled Wizards gated in all around them. ‘You’re coming with us,’ they said, zapping them both of them with tazers and gating out with them. Seeing that all of their companions were gone, the Nameless One broke from his solo battle with BG dude and cracked open the mysterious bronze sphere he had been carrying around with him. He cried out with surprise as all the memories of his past lives came pouring out… all those memories… all those lives… ‘Ah… _that _ is my name…’ With a grim smile, TNO launches a Rune of Torment at Baldur’s Gate dude. Suddenly, BG guy cries out in unholy agony as his form begins to twist and change… reforming into the hideous visage of The Slayer. He laughs nastily as the magical energies of the Rune explode and boil off harmless off him. TNO glares at him: ‘Well, if you want to play it _that _ way…’ He draws the Entropic blade and charges. The Slayer flexes its claws and bounds forward, chittering with unholy glee at the chance to rip limb from limb. They collide and hit each other so hard that… The rest of the multiverse is destroyed in a massive concussion. THE END (happy now? )

03-04-2001, 10:29 AM	#2
Epona Zartan Join Date: March 1, 2001 Location: London, England Age: 53 Posts: 5,164	ROTFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Absolute classic, stop it, stop it! (Epona rolls off her chair and onto the floor, no longer able to laugh and breath at the same time) ------------------ Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.

03-04-2001, 11:20 AM	#3
Accord Ninja Storm Shadow Join Date: March 1, 2001 Location: Toronto, Canada Posts: 3,537	Clap! Clap! Clap! Another fine piece of writing I see... ------------------ Long live H22A1!!!!!

03-04-2001, 12:01 PM	#4
Hesperex Guest Posts: n/a	ABSOLOUTLY QUALITY a real classic ------------------

03-04-2001, 12:18 PM	#5
250 Horus - Egyptian Sky God Join Date: March 4, 2001 Location: either CA or MO Age: 42 Posts: 2,674	!!this is a copied post from planetbg.com forum, original author Drakon!! Author: Drakon <-> Date: 3/4/01 8:36:00 AM Subject: RE: Old post from page 13 (very long) about this f This is a slightly different version of the story. First of all, i actually liked the story, I really do. But the ending where every one was killed They were my favourite chars, I didn't want them killed so.... Before the two groups could do anything, a vooice booms across the space between them, "Stop! There is no need 4 violence!". TNO:Whose voice is that? Morte: Beats me chief, I may be an expert on the planes but I don't know everything. Nordom: Checking voice parameters. Property unknown. Identification unknown... Dak'kon: This voice is not known 2 me. The Bg party just go with a simple ????? As both parties were figuring out what was going on, a figure teleported into the space between them. He was dressed in the strangest of ways. Clothed in a black tunic with a symbol of a mountain with lightning, the words Black Isle, wearing a pair what could be called magnifying lenses except they seemed to be thinner and it seemed to be permanently attached to his eyes, carrying a strange white rectangular contraption with cubes on it... Voice person: no need 4 violence u r all on the same side... Dak'kon: You are not known to me... TnO:Who the Hell are you? Voice person tells about himself. Identifies himself as game designer and beta tester. Explains his job and such. Then explains situation, why there is no need 4 fight. TNO:If what you say is true, I have a bone to pick with u.. Imoen: Me too. BG guy: Me three! Game designer: Eh? Imoen: u r the one that decides the story? Fancy that putting me into all kinds of s**t!for the sake of story , leave me with this sick maniac Irenicus, u really must hate my guts or something. Minsc:You, u kill off Minsc's witch! TNO: You are the one that controls my actions, you must have fun getting me killed over and over again 4 your sadistic pleasure! You made it so I can't die. Well, I"m sick of it! Bg guy: You? Bcos of you, I"m stuck with Aerie. What the hell is wrong with you. of all people you have to pick aerie to be in MY party, when i can be having a hot sexy dark elf Viconia in my arms every night! Plus, she's a better cleric too! You really piss me off. Game guy: There's nothing u can do about it, I'm in charge. Both parties are not impressed, they have more grouses to the game designer(feel free to add your own i n future posts)they become hostile. 4 a moment, they forget about beating each other up, the 12 of them uniting against a common enemy. Game Guy: U dare attack me here, do u even know what u face? BgGuy: We don't give a damn, right scarred man? TNO grins. Game Guy: Come closer or feel the power of the almighty keyboard! Dakk'on: Let's see it face my anger.(u know what spell he is casting) The game guy knows he is in trouble. Time 4 a hasty exit.As everyone gathers their most powerful spells and attacks, he hits [SpaceBar]. time is at a standstill, giving him plenty of time to make his escape... Eventually, time resumes. Whole bunches of spells, both high and low leveled land at where he was standing moments b4. As the dust settles, the party of 12 realise their target has eluded them. As they stared at each other, they suddenly both feel they both had something in common. Both of them victims to lousy game designs, sadistic players(and bad stories like this one). This is the time they both get to know each other beter. TNO: I guess it wouldn't hurt to make a little detour. My mortality's not goin newhere, so i'll help u hunt your elusive mage. Morte: Yeah, got plenty of taunts to try out on him, heh heh.... Fall-From-Grace: Jaheira, we should talk Jaheira: I got nothing to say to u tanarri. Fall-From-Grace: Mayhap if I taught you how to cast call lightning indoors? Jaheira: You...hmmmm, i'll consider. And they all walk off, the party of 12 into the sunset, the best of friends. O.k I know this is a bad story, this is my first time o.k? And besides, I just didn't like the thought of my characters kiled off. Feel free to add or (drastically) improve my story.. You can also flame me 4 posting such low quality work 2..

03-04-2001, 05:20 PM	#6
The Silent One Elite Waterdeep Guard Join Date: March 1, 2001 Location: Germany Posts: 23	Well, well, it is good to know such talent for writing is among us. I tremble to think of a whole game scripted by these guys, as multiple concussions would be the result (falling of chairs while laughing, smacking your forehead to calm down etc.) GREAT WRITING! SEND US MORE OF IT! TSO

03-05-2001, 10:58 AM	#8
Dimension X Dungeon Master Join Date: March 4, 2001 Location: Singapore Posts: 62	Heh That was good... ------------------ A Drawn Sword; A Trickle Of Blood; The Tempest Is Brewing. Nemesis....

03-22-2001, 02:43 AM	#9
250 Horus - Egyptian Sky God Join Date: March 4, 2001 Location: either CA or MO Age: 42 Posts: 2,674	whenever i read this... i want to BUMP!!!

03-22-2001, 02:45 AM	#10
Accord Ninja Storm Shadow Join Date: March 1, 2001 Location: Toronto, Canada Posts: 3,537	Said it before, say it again: nice work. ------------------ Long live H22A1!!!!!

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