War of Northern Aggression

[BaleOhay]

Daruvian did you really say you were impartial? insanity.

anyway there is a large diff between offering a reward anyone having a good day can win and paying some to drop the team they had been hired last min to switch sides.

They are already behind a giant wall and have the massive advantages defending a castle gives buying off mercs seems sad.

[KaMiKaZe_JoE]

"Fucking fuckers!" Joe growled, his face just inches from his computer screen. He was staring with wide eyes, and heady mixture of sweat and adrenaline was pooling between his naked thighs on the hard, metal stool he was sitting on. The froth smelled like what he imagined sex smelled like. His hands shook, and he was crowning. All this, and more, was happening because Joe was really getting in-character.

He did this every time he posted in the diplomacy forums. There was this one rule, you see.

His fingers, made sticky by lube and maple syrup, slapped audibly against the keyboard. He was in a roleplaying frenzy. "Fucking knaves," he typed and wheezed aloud, "assholes. Learn how to be like real knights and pay for mercenaries. Real knights. Real knights! REAL KNIGHTS! REAL KNIGHTS!"

Joe broke.

His voice cracked and he fell from his stool into a fetal ball. The stool tipped over, spilling sweat all over his weeping, shaking, naked body. "R-real kn-kn-knights," he whispered. "We're all real--"

The basement door exploded off its hinges and flew across the room in a shower of splinters and plaster. The door-knob bounced over the hardwood floor, away from Joe, who watched it with great interest, still muttering about knights. He knew what was coming. A deep voice boomed, "SON?! I"M BACK FROM WAL-MART! THEY WERE OUT OF DICKS, HAHA!"

Dad was home. Joe curled up tighter and ceased his whisperings, hoping that dad might miss him.

"GET IT, BOY? DICKS!" There was a long pause, followed by an authoritative, "PLEASE RESPOND!"

Joe was silent.

"EHL OH EHL, WHATEVER THEN." A single can of beans rolled out of the doorway into the middle of the basement. "I GOT YOU BEANS," was all that Joe's father said before he climbed the stairs, his footfalls like cannon-fire. Joe remained on the floor, staring at the beans.

[GOBBLINKINGREATLEADER]

Part 1 of 2:

A small, gray car stood on the broken asphalt street outside the neglected dump of a house that was to be Jakob Davies's assignment for the day. Inside the car sat two men. The first is an excited yet self-restrained young man in cap-toed black oxfords, black pants, a white dress shirt, and a long, skinny black tie. His name is Jakob. The other man is Jakob's mentor, a self-reassured and confident 15-year veteran of Child Protective Services. Jakob has worked for Child Protective Services for 7 months now with most of that time spent in a crowded, old government cubicle filing repetitive paperwork in front of a CRT monitor. Today marked the first day that Jakob was assigned field duty to visit a house and investigate complaints from neighbors.

Jakob opened the door of the gray car and stood out onto the sidewalk near the house that he would be investigating. He stood still and took a long look at the surrounding houses and this one, finally saying to himself,

"I can't believe places like this exist. Everything looks broken and worn down. It's like a fucking Russian ghetto or something. There's no way these houses are safe. I can't believe children live in places like this."

Jakob's partner rapped on the right side window of the car with his knucles and looked at Jakob as if to say "get on with it!"

"Alright, alright!", Jakob said loud enough his partner could hear.

Jakob strolled through the front yard of the house to the front door. The grass was overgrown and car parts, old cans of food like beans and fruit cocktails, and other rubbish littered the yard so fully it was hard to find somewhere to place your foot where it could actually connect with solid ground.

Jakob came to the door. He knocked and spoke loudly so that anyone in the house would certainly hear him.

"Child protective services! This is Agent Jakob! Please come to the door!" No answer... again Jakob knocked and spoke, even louder this time.

"Hello! This is Agent Jakob Davies' from Child Protective Services, I have a warrant to search these premises! Please open your door!"

Jakob sat and listened for a second. There wasn't a single sound from within the house. Frustrated, angry, and nervously releasing pent-up excitement, Jakob knocked again very strongly, practically pounding his fist upon the old wooden door.

The door flew forward, falling off of its hinges and crashing into the floor.

"Hello?", Jakob said before entering the house. Again there was no response. Jakob walked through the old wooden doorway and took a look at the inside of the house. It was a disgusting pile of filth. Food, feces, and trash littered the entire floor. Jakob sat and listened for any sound, any noise at all to see if the parents or child might be home. He thought he heard something! He stood in total stillness and listened harder.

"Meow!"

It was a cat! Jakob ran down the hall and turned right to enter what appeared to be a kitchen. The meowing was louder here, Jakob could hear it. "There must be a fucking animal buried under the trash!", Jakob said in shock and disgust. He quickly began throwing around the trash in an attempt to find the animal." Old food boxes, tin foil, plastic, and cans flew in every direction as Jakob searched for the animal for several minutes.

"I hear it!" It was much louder now, he must be close he thought. Jakob then cleared a section of trash in the corner and found the source of the noise; a MP3 player attached to a boom box. "What the fuck?!"

Jakob felt shivers go down his spine. Immediately he dropped the MP3 player and walked back into the hall. What he saw there shocked, disgusted, and terrified him. The door that he had knocked down minutes before was replaced with a metal one, and on it was written in blood

REAL KNIGHTS
REAALLL KNIGHTSS
LEAREAL GHKNIGHST


To be continued....

[Artyem]

Congratulations for ignoring 90% of my post just to draw wild speculations and shoot random insults at us.  It's only now that I realize why people like Smoothrich are the true heroes of this game, somehow putting up with months of this shit.

I payed Desire a minuscule amount of gold hours before the battle to switch sides, you guys have a talent for blowing shit out of proportion.

http://c-rpg.net/?page=strategusbattlesupcoming#!?page=strategusinfobattledetail&id=5803
http://c-rpg.net/?page=strategusbattlesupcoming#!?page=strategusinfobattledetail&id=5801
http://c-rpg.net/?page=strategusbattlesarchive#!?page=strategusinfobattledetail&id=5650 (not as bad, but still pretty shitty)

and I forgot my night time settings once, but certainly that's worse.

Well, regardless of the hostility, I look forward to the several future sieges of Yruma, it's cool to defend for once.

[Kalam]

Every and any player who does not merc for FCC is eligible for the free LPs!

Kalam writes a quick letter, to be sent with all haste to traitor territory.

Dear Havelle,

I would gladly join your side for riches and gold.

Sincerely,

Kalam

P.S I can also offer sexual favors.

Reviewing his letter with care, he folded it and ran his tongue over the edge. "GMNO! Please take this out to the mail box for me!"

[Matey]

http://c-rpg.net/?page=strategusbattlesupcoming#!?page=strategusinfobattledetail&id=5803
http://c-rpg.net/?page=strategusbattlesupcoming#!?page=strategusinfobattledetail&id=5801
http://c-rpg.net/?page=strategusbattlesarchive#!?page=strategusinfobattledetail&id=5650 (not as bad, but still pretty shitty)

and I forgot my night time settings once, but certainly that's worse.

heh.
Intercepting a trader with tons of crates.
Intercepting (at the time) naked troops.
Intercepting someone trying to reinforce Yruma.

[Chosen1]

I usually +1 applesauce because hes not a little child that gets super butthurt when he loses in a video game to the point of becoming a little whiny bitch.  And no I never paid anyone ever crpg gold to sign up for us nor offered to - we have only ever offered generally publicized prizes for top performers in our battles that everyone can get and knows about, never secretive Ill give you crpg gold to switch sides last minute (which you would never have to do if it really was a real friend).  If you are that desperate to win then go for it, just realize you can call u all the names you want but its you that dragged your character in the mud to win in a video game along with a special select few that are also being attacked as we speak.  And yes we saved your ass a lot and listened to your constant wild speculations that everyone was conspiring to attack you even though no one ever cared enough to do so, certainly not with the elaborate crazy ideas you came up with.

I've never seen anyone care so much about a video game.

[KaMiKaZe_JoE]

(click to show/hide)

Part 1 of 2:

A small, gray car stood on the broken asphalt street outside the neglected dump of a house that was to be Jakob Davies's assignment for the day. Inside sat two men. The first is an excited yet self-restrained young man in cap-toed black oxfords, black pants, a white dress shirt, and a long, skinny black tie. His name is Jakob. The other man is Jakob's mentor, a self-reassured and confident 15-year veteran of Child Protective Services. Jakob has worked for Child Protective Services for 7 months now with most of that time spent in a crowded, old government cubicle filing repetitive paperwork in front of a CRT monitor. Today marked the first day that Jakob was assigned field duty to visit a house and investigate complaints from neighbors.

Jakob opened the door of the gray car and stood out onto the sidewalk near the house that he would be investigating today. He stood still and took a long look at the surrounding houses and this one, finally saying to himself,

"I can't believe places like this exist. Everything looks broken and worn down. It's like a fucking Russian ghetto or something. There's no way these houses are safe. I can't believe children live in places like this."

Jakob's partner rapped on the right side window of the car with his knucles and looked at Jakob as if to say "get on with it!"

"Alright, alright!", Jakob said loud enough his partner could hear.

Jakob strolled through the front yard of the house to the front door. The grass was overgrown and car parts, old cans of food like beans and fruit cocktails, and other rubbish littered the yard so fully it was hard to find somewhere to place your foot where it could actually connect with solid ground.

Jakob came to the door. He knocked and spoke loudly so that anyone in the house would certainly hear him.

"Child protective services! This is Agent Jakob! Please come to the door!" No answer... again Jakob knocked and spoke, even louder this time.

"Hello! This is Agent Jakob Davies' from Child Protective Services, I have a warrant to search these premises! Please open your door!"

Jakob sat and listened for a second. There wasn't a single sound from within the house. Frustrated, angry, and nervously releasing pent-up excitement, Jakob knocked again very strongly, practically pounding his fist upon the old wooden door.

The door flew forward, falling off of its hinges and crashing into the floor.

"Hello?", Jakob said before entering the house. Again there was no response. Jakob walked through the old wooden doorway and took a look at the inside of the house. It was a disgusting pile of filth. Food, feces, and trash littered the entire floor. Jakob sat and listened for any sound, any noise at all to see if the parents or child might be home. He thought he heard something! He stood in total stillness and listened harder.

"Meow!"

It was a cat! Jakob ran down the hall and turned right to enter what appeared to be a kitchen. The meowing was louder here, Jakob could hear it. "There must a fucking animal buried under the trash!", Jakob said in shock and disgust. He quickly began throwing around the trash in an attempt to find the animal." Old food boxes, tin foil, plastic, and cans flew in every direction as Jakob searched for the animal for several minutes.

"I hear it!" It was much louder now, he must be close he thought. Jakob then cleared a section of trash in the corner and found the source of the noise; a MP3 player attached to a boom box. "What the fuck?!"

Jakob felt shivers go down his spine. Immediately he dropped the MP3 player and walked back into the hall. What he saw there shocked, disgusted, and terrified him. The door that he had knocked down minutes before was replaced with a metal one, and on it was written in blood

REAL KNIGHTS
REAALLL KNIGHTSS
LEAREAL GHKNIGHST


To be continued....

I eagerly await PART 2

[Gmnotutoo]

Joe, we need to have a serious discussion.

DON'T YOU EVER PULL A HUEY AND QUIT C-RPG, I CANNOT LOSE YOU TOO.

[Canuck]

I've always signed up exclusively for CC (and they've been nice guys and accepted me even though I'm a shit player unless I'm level 31 polearm) that's mostly because I like them and it's always nice to kill FCC scum. Also thinking about arowaine killing FCC scum while saying things like FCC scum makes me giddy. Lately though, there have been some pretty shitty things on that side too. Why? Because this fucking soul sucking strategus xp grinder bullshit means anything? Is it really that fun to be the biggest tryhards/nerdy assholes possible? I don't know man. It's like a shitrope.

[vespasian]

Is it really that fun to be the biggest tryhards/nerdy assholes possible? I don't know man. It's like a shitrope.

The Fuckin Catalina shitrope mixer.

And yes, if you come in second place on the tryhard podium it pretty much means you like the cock.

[Sir_Firebus]

I'll merc for CC if I get payed a loom point a battle.  Seriously though you all need to chill out on the nerd rage. We still end up stomping CC even if they pay for mercs individually.

[Matey]

I'll merc for CC if I get payed a loom point a battle.  Seriously though you all need to chill out on the nerd rage. We still end up stomping CC even if they pay for mercs individually.

Aye you're right. I just get grumpy cause I do shitty in sieges D:

[arowaine]

no offence but this 33 page of diplomacy is 99% made of shit love you all

[Jack1]

as I re-read the past few pages all that I could seem to comprehend is that FCC is pissed off with something as little as paying a merc to switch sides for 30k.

(click to show/hide)

it has also come to my attention that kesh is also telling everybody that we are paying 300k for anybody who is willing to switch, this is anything but the truth.

I, and the other members of TCC, have tried to do nothing but play fair and be as nice as possible while the main spokespeople for FCC have been spitting in our faces on the forums. After the past 8 attempts, every siege but the day in-between one, you have finally managed to gear bug us. My respect for the acre members has gone down the shitter and I no longer respect any of their members as I did before any of this. The current situation is this: the game has become so horrible that I, myself, am on the verge of quitting.

my questions are: why do you wish to fight an enemy on crutches? why would you prefer to not fight anybody at all?

(click to show/hide)

hint: nobody likes to play with douchebags so people are quitting the game.

(click to show/hide)

if you would like to restore any respect whatsoever I suggest you stop attacking right after. Give us say, 5 minutes? I also expected better from you acre guys. I even liked you quite a bit even during this war, but whatever, winning is winning isn't it?

edit: congratulations on doing another intsta-attack.