There are some men out there that know so much about sheilds that their shields not only never break, but they are healed on impact.1st one ) Kinngrimm : he got nearly 11 shield.
There was once a man who could run so quickly that he could couch a lance on foot.
Once, long ago, there was a man who knew so much about powerful striking that he could crush a man's skull in (through is helmet) with his bare hands.
These are the legends of c-RPG.
Figure this one out. (True story btw)
There once was this legend who could lolstab and warp in time and space whilst doing it.
Who was he?
Once, long ago, there was a man who knew so much about powerful striking that he could crush a man's skull in (through is helmet) with his bare hands.I am still here
ooh, let me try!Ahh, yeah, yeah. I think I saw him a long time ago too.
There was once a man who rode his horse fast and lanced people while they were fighting.
There was once a man in heavy armor with lots of strength and durability, who did naught but attack ceaselessly.
Goretooth?
Goretooth?That's what I thought, but of course they wouldn't know of him.
There was once a man in heavy armor with lots of strength and durability, who did naught but attack ceaselessly.Ivani4?
lats and triceps rubbing? doing it wrong
that would require you to be in an externally rotated shoulder position. That's an interestingly bad posture.
Nah, our bodies are just that huge.No. That would require your triceps to be larger than your other brachial muscles, or an externally rotated shoulder. an imbalance or an odd posture.
No. That would require your triceps to be larger than your other brachial muscles, or an externally rotated shoulder. an imbalance or an odd posture.
In neutral position, even on body builders... biceps and triceps will have equal touching with lats.
These 'legends' are just a part of being a PK.
Now, allow me to elabortate on the 'why'.
The typical PK alt (UAM, United African Militia) has two legs, but being hung like the Africanus Nappaharis. With this extra length, we use our abnormal apprmdage to propel us into 13 ath builds. wielding fearsome pitchforks, and shortened spears, although many of the members like to keep it "OG" and use knives.
Now, power strike. I'm not sure if you're aware, but here in PK, we powerlift at an olympic standard, and all have a very applicable knowledge of pounding meat into a pulp. This is also the reason why we seldom die in NA servers, the friction between our latissimus dorsi and our tricep rubs, creating friction, thus altering our ability to block in the small window of time we have.
Note: This is a rare event, as we are still, that much better than all of you.
It is because of our professsionally built and toned bodies, and chiseled abdominals, that we are the beasts that you are forced to tolerate every now and then. (although our killer abs are hidden under our big boned chests)
My bicep is so huge, it doesn't even flop down anymore.
My clicking fingers are so muscular and wide, I get blisters from clicking.
I am that dedicated to warband, I get bedsores from each and every sitting.
Check-fuckin'-mate fellas.
Legend out.
Listen punk. My muscles are huge. Stop trying to patronize me on the internet, because I get all the vigina I want!fuark your huge brah my bad
Black Wind you piece of dirt let me pound your ass already.
fuark your huge brah my bad
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmUVMbHQSQ0
Black Wind's posts only are funny because his avatar can seem like he is patronizing if you don't look closely.
There was once a man that could fly with a pike in the morning, cut you in half with a scimitar at noon and put an arrow between your eyes in the evening.
3 kills a day...sounds pretty shitty to me.
There was once a man who's horse alone got more kills than the rest of the team combined on some days.
There was once a dread knight clad all in blackest armour, tougher than any ordinary steel. He rode a horse all covered in fearsome plate as himself, and carried a great lance that struck fear into the heart of those who beheld it. They say his horse was bred in Hell, that the merest touch of his lance was enough to kill any man. Many brave soldiers and innocent peasants alike were mown down by the iron hooves of his steed, or impaled upon his lance. They called this legend the Finn. It is known.Pretty sure he used a Heavy Lance. He always just did laps around the buildings caused the teams always sort off camped close to eachother. No teambumps back then.
There was once a dread knight clad all in blackest armour, tougher than any ordinary steel. He rode a horse all covered in fearsome plate as himself, and carried a great lance that struck fear into the heart of those who beheld it. They say his horse was bred in Hell, that the merest touch of his lance was enough to kill any man. Many brave soldiers and innocent peasants alike were mown down by the iron hooves of his steed, or impaled upon his lance. They called this legend the Finn. It is known.
And people really liked cRPG more back then?
Ivani4?
There was once a man who's horse alone got more kills than the rest of the team combined on some days.
and people used to care about olwen back in the day ^^He's a hero.
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They say the mask came from the far lands. Past the elk herders, past the barren white wastes. In a yurt whose pole held the night sky itself aloft. It was not forged, but struck from cold iron that had never seen a flame. It carried a weight beyond its seeming size.
Passed from hand to hand, it trickled south. Eventually a warrior of Calradia found the war mask. Odd, the face of it. Not fearsome, like others he had seen. It was more fearful, impossibly twisted in agony. Still, for the price he paid the thing must surely offer some protection in battle...?
The second it fell upon his head, the warrior was under its spell. His arms moved against his will, slaying friend and foe alike. Weeping blood from the eye-sockets of the mask, the warrior cleaved one hundred and nineteen men into pieces, his blade whistling through the air faster than an arrow.
After the last body fell, he continued his unearthly blade dance. A trumpet from the heavens blared, and the warrior fell among his victims with no wound to be seen on his person.
[playername] was banned for 4d. Reason: Teamwounding
He's a hero.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
They say the mask came from the far lands. Past the elk herders, past the barren white wastes. In a yurt whose pole held the night sky itself aloft. It was not forged, but struck from cold iron that had never seen a flame. It carried a weight beyond its seeming size.
Passed from hand to hand, it trickled south. Eventually a warrior of Calradia found the war mask. Odd, the face of it. Not fearsome, like others he had seen. It was more fearful, impossibly twisted in agony. Still, for the price he paid the thing must surely offer some protection in battle...?
The second it fell upon his head, the warrior was under its spell. His arms moved against his will, slaying friend and foe alike. Weeping blood from the eye-sockets of the mask, the warrior cleaved one hundred and nineteen men into pieces, his blade whistling through the air faster than an arrow.
After the last body fell, he continued his unearthly blade dance. A trumpet from the heavens blared, and the warrior fell among his victims with no wound to be seen on his person.
[playername] was banned for 4d. Reason: Teamwounding