ForumsArt, Music, and WritingThe Way of Continuation

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Salvidian
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Salvidian
4,229 posts
Blacksmith

FORWARD

âThe land of ArmorGames holds many people from many lands, each with their own story, whether they be wanderers, questers, or seeking to rule.â
~Strop and Cenere, former Way of ag e­566/page/1">Moderation directors

Today a new world lives. The time of the WoMâs launch is long past. A new generation breathes. Theyâre building a new society, theyâre telling new tales, and theyâre leaving new legacies.

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Salvidian
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Salvidian
4,229 posts
Blacksmith

Not sure what happened there. When I posted my phone went insane and posted two other threads. I would appreciate it if this one were kept.

Salvidian
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Salvidian
4,229 posts
Blacksmith

The "Way" and "Moderation" links also decided not to work. I don't think anything else could be screwed up right now. They're simply links to the WoM and the corresponding archive.


Anyway, other than those errors, everything is okay.

Maverick4
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Maverick4
6,815 posts
Shepherd

...

Now what.

Salvidian
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Salvidian
4,229 posts
Blacksmith

Now you sit patiently and wait for something to unfold.

Maverick4
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Maverick4
6,815 posts
Shepherd

One day Sal, the thread deities to whom I make sacrifices thrice daily will punish you for your insistence of keeping the OP separate from what the thread is actually about.

I envision a healthy smoting of lightening and thunder, perhaps with the sudden appearance of a chasm or tornado to top it off. The gods work in mysterious ways.

Gantic
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Gantic
11,847 posts
King

You also misspelled Foreword, if I'm not mistaken.

Clancy12
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Clancy12
6,404 posts
Baron

Chapter 0
Part 1: A Dual Introduction

A quiet evening dawned on, er, wherever pang lives. The setting sun shadowed pangâs home, magnifying the darkened crevices of his home, giving the illusion of secrecy taking settlement upon a home that is deserving of the gods. No words could describe such a beautiful home other than those aforementioned. pang sat at his desk, made of smooth mahogany, while the lone light in the home shone brightly from a perfectly crafted Pinkie Pie themed lamp, crafting beautiful poetry while Holy Mountains by System of a Down played on the stereo. pang sat and remarked at his latest creation, âHodor.â Several minutes passed while nothing penetrated the room but peace. Unfortunately, the peace came to a shattering halt when Salvidian burst through the door.
âpAAAAAAANG!!! I wanna talk!â
âWhat!?â
âHey, so remember that story we wrote?â pang sat quietly for a minute examining his twin/husband. The strange appearance of his twin made him neglect many sibling activities; the ninja robes, the beard, it all annoyed him.
âWhat...?â
âThat story we wrote for baby Rip, remember?â
âDude, I have no idea what youâre talking about.â
Salvidian reached into his ninja satchel and retrieved a large, old book. The words âWay of Moderationâ were printed on it.
âYou idiot, prophets Cen and Strop wrote that.â
âNo, no. I mean the sequel, remember? Rip wanted a conclusion to the story but the prophets died long before we were born, so we just made it up!â
âUh...â
Salvidian proceeded to anger, then to rage, then to frustration, before finally exalting. âGod, you drive me nuts! The story! I canât believe you forgot!â. Salvidian pulled another, slightly newer, book out of his satchel.
âTake it!â
pang grabbed the book from his tinier brother. It had the words âI liek diks in ma buttâ printed on it.
âOhhhhh! Right! THIS book!â
âSee, I ainât no crazy man!â
pang looked excited now that his question had been cleared, but his excitement diminished when he realized his mischievous brother had some sort of plan going.
âSo... why did you bring this up?â
âWeeellllll I was thinkinâ we could like, I donât know, share this! I mean itâs such a cool story, ainât it?â
âUgh, I donât know Sal... The WoM is so old... Who wants to read any of that garbage anymore?â
âGod, pang, you see, this is why I hate doing projects with you! Why can we not just show this to everyone! I think itâs a fantastic read, but you hate it!â
pang realized he tickled his brother off by a fair amount at this point (had that not been obvious).
âLook, Sal, to be entirely honest, the WoM happened so long ago. How do we even know what happened in it was true? Why continue a false story?â
âSACRILEGE! IT MUST BE TRUE FOR THE PROPHETS WROTE IT!â
âFine, fine, fine. How about we go over it one last time before making any hasty decisions, okay?â
âOkay, okay.â
Sal and pang wandered over to pangâs magnificent loveseat. It was an amber red and was probably made of extremely nice cushion with a fleece layering on top, a magnificent poster of Freakenstein rested upon the wall above it, adding to the already wonderful ambiance the seat brought. Sal couldnât remember it ever not being there, and pang couldnât remember when he originally bought it. It served the sole purpose of seating two people and thatâs all it ever did.
Sal sat down, er, tried to sit first while pang watched him. Sal was a very short character, about a foot tall, but what he lost in height he gained in adorableness. His multiple but fruitless attempts to jump on the chair were quite humorous in pangâs weathered eyes. Eventually Sal growled, which naturally prompted pang to lift up his beloved partner into the chair. A sigh of thankfulness was given.
pang walked over to the mahogany desk and picked up the WoM sequel. He was careful to not let it be torn by the walk, as the integrity of the binding was before beyond repair. pang sat down next to Sal, almost crushing him. After a brief struggle, the both found comfort in the elegant seat. The two grabbed the old covers, creaked the book open and began to read from the false-but-based-off-maybe-correct-texts-written-by-maybe-real-prophets.

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

Salvidian
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Salvidian
4,229 posts
Blacksmith

This has definitely been an off-day. Fortunately I have servants to do my bidding. >

And so the story is being told!

pangtongshu
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pangtongshu
9,991 posts
Scribe

I think this is something worthy of my 6,000th post...probably.

Anywho, just wanted to leave a little disclaimer. This will be written by Sal and myself (with Sal doing most of the work and me dropping in a couple sentences every now and then so I can get full credit in this), unless directly stated otherwise. If someone posts part of the story (like Clancy did just now), they are merely being messengers.

Feel free to shoot these messengers.

Aaaand so we can get it out of the way now...a special thanks to these people for doing...something...I think.
Rip
wa-flag
Xeano
Mino
Pick
Vinny
Matrix
Storm
R2
Gandalf
Clancy
Gamer

gamerguy12345
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gamerguy12345
2,852 posts
Herald

Chapter 1
Part 1: The Traveler's Trek

âI canât believe the nonsense I put up with.â The story descended into a blazing desert. Dunes streamed sand waves through the landscape, which destroyed all hopes for life. The desert sun was rumoured to cause even the strongest of travelers to cripple up and die. âGod, why did I come out here? âOh, itâll be a GREAT place to get cashâ, HAH! Thanks for the advice!â The lone traveler was en route to ArmorCity. He carried gray, tattered remains of clothing and a formerly magnificent belt. The sunâs rays bellowed all sweat from him, causing extreme dehydration. The traveler was almost to but a crawl now, clinging to the tiny bit of energy he had left. The travelerâs head plopped into the sand. His eyes forced a close. Nothing crossed his mind but a final âOH CRAP.â

Blackness.

âHELLOOOOOOO! HOW ARE WE TODAY!!!!???â
A sudden jolt shot though the travelerâs body. Spasms ran through every nerve.
âWHAT DID YOU JUST DO!?â the traveler screamed.
Everything blurred immensely. The traveler felt vomit shooting from his mouth.
âARE YOU OKAY!?â
âIâm going to ask you one more freaking time before I cut your head off. What did you do to me!?â
âI GAVE YOU AN AWESOME DOSE OF SOME REALLY COOL STUFF THAT SHOULD MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER, SO DO YOU FEEL BETTER NOW!?â
The strangerâs voice paraded through the travelerâs earâs extremely fast and loud.
â...what?â
âITâS CALLED âPOINTâ AND I DONâT KNOW WHAT IT DOES EXCEPT THAT IT MAKES YOU BETTER.â
The traveler paused and glanced around the room. His eyes began to re-focus, but it was hard to make anything out. The only thing he could vaguely make out was a woman-shaped figure in front of him. She bowed her blurred head and stared into his eyes, breathing deeply.
âUh... thanks... it helped, I think.â
âYOUâRE CONGRATULATED.â
âUm, thank... you...?â
The woman seemed peculiar to the traveler, but at this point she assisted him, and thatâs all that mattered to him. His symptoms had vanished and he didnât even feel the pain diminish. His eyes slowly adjusted but the sight which he received was not one he desired.
âWhere are we???â
âWHY, WEâRE ON TOP OF THE LEGENDARIA IMAGINARIA!â
The Legendaria Imaginaria was a very large building built by the prophets, specifically the White Bunny Gantic, many years ago. It is located in ArmorCity. The traveler couldnât recollect anything other than that, and his mental shock was overpowering him anyway. The view from the height was, in the traveler's eyes, unpleasant. His eyes were too blurred yet to make out what ArmorCity looked like. He glanced at his reluctantly-called savior to find that she was an extremely attractive woman, albeit clothless. Her naked body was sheathed by rainbow colored hair, filled with plenty of knickknacks and paddywhacks. One in particular being a figure of a robot hanging from her bangs.
âWhere are your clothes...?â
âINVISIBLE.â
âDo you want some visible clothes?â
âNO.â
âUm, well, why not?â
âBECAUSE THEN I WILL GET COLD.â
âOkay...â
The traveler stood up and wandered to the side of the roof, examining the ground below. His eyes were still too blurred to make anything out. Fortunately, he had become accustomed to his saviorâs being.
âHey, whatâs your name? I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days and it would help to know your name to ask.â
âNAMEâS STORMWALKER.â
âStormWalker... Ah. Itâs a fitting name, I guess.â
The traveler found consolation in his savior, Storm.
âHey, know where I can get some cash? I was told to come here to find someone called R2D2, or something.â
âUH. GO TO MAIN STREET.â
Storm violently shoved the traveler off the roof.

Blackness. Again.

âSpare some change, stranger?â
âUm, excuse me?â
The traveler woke up on the ground this time. His vision finally restored itself, but only to be gripped by a maddening old man with a long, gray beard.
âWhoa! Get away from me!â
The traveler, now at full physical potential, hopped off the ground and sprinted away. He dashed through alleyways and viaducts, unable to make out most of everything because things were blurred. His vision had returned, but his quickness overpowered his ability to see. He eventually found a covert to run up.
The tip of the covert revealed an expansive view. From his height he could see all of ArmorCity. He had finally made it, but he was grabbed with a terrible surprise. The city was large but it was dirty. Poverty had struck most of the city and the formerly magnificent structures were all but destroyed and ruined. It was nothing like what the traveler had been told. In the distance he could make out a contrasting bleach-white that was far more beautiful than the nearing locale. The traveler assumed this was the alleged âmain streetâ due to its centrality in the city. Looking to closer areas, the buildings were covered in moss, rust, and some unidentifiable arid colors. The traveler shrugged and thought to himself, âI guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder.â He descended down the covert and onto an unnamed street.
The street was no more pleasant. Rats ran up and down the gutters, men and women slept in their own filth, and food sources were nowhere to be seen. The traveler walked down the street in hopes to find Main Street. He approached a semi-reasonable looking man and presented the question.
âWhy would I know where Main Street is, kiddo?â
âLook, Iâm just trying to get to where I need to be. Please help me, please!â
The stranger thrusted a device out of his pocket. At first glance it looked like nothing but a toy, but the traveler realized it was a gun.
âGimme your money, you swine!â

The traveler had two words for this man.

He kicked the gun away and within seconds and with little struggle the man was on the ground, entirely unconscious.
âDo NOT mess with the one and true pickpocket, sir.â

pangtongshu
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pangtongshu
9,991 posts
Scribe

You aren't naked.

http://desktop.freewallpaper4.me/preview/4507-bayonetta.jpg

StormWalker
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StormWalker
8,286 posts
Scribe

.................I'm not sure if that's better or worse.

daleks
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daleks
3,787 posts
Lord

One day Sal, the thread deities to whom I make sacrifices thrice daily will punish you for your insistence of keeping the OP separate from what the thread is actually about.

I have to admit that this is getting annoying. It was interesting the first time, but now I think it just turns people away.

Also I feel as though this will be one of those things that Sal and everyone in FGA starts and then gives up on after a month or so.
Maverick4
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Maverick4
6,815 posts
Shepherd

^This x2

killersup10
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killersup10
2,747 posts
Jester

This...should be interesting. A modern day story time. Make it good Sal.

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