Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Way of Moderation has ended (page 566)

Strop just send me an email when your done.

Okay, hm. Maybe KR was right when he said he hasn't posted the first part of his entry. Well he's kinda away for 10 days now so... he gave me permission to post his entry for him.

Before I do that though I'm going to doublecheck my archive, and start updating that as I finally have some images sorted out. I have some kind of reception to attend tonight and more pictures left to draw, so I expect we will be moving along tomorrow. After which things will happen very quickly!

I have some kind of reception to attend tonight

None of that made any sense whatsoever, so if you were going for that, well done!

It's just a reception held by the medical union, that's how everybody recruits us. HERE HAVE A FREE DINNER,JOIN US AND YOU MIGHT WIN AN iPAD YAY BY THE WAY THERE'S A THREE HUNDRED DOLLAR ANNUAL FEE!!!

I love professional perks.

Still drawing the images, there's maybe five or so left.

Still drawing the images, there's maybe five or so left.

Mine perhaps?/hopefull. 'cause I did ask politely. PREEEAZZZE?

Thanks a lot man! I've won the biggest sideburns comp for sure haha ;D

Is that a helmet being thrown at me by any chance?

More like a helmet that was thrown in your general direction by accident, because of a fight that you're studiously ignoring by doing the dishes.

Everybody, I'd like to draw your attention to the archive, as I've just updated it from the start of round 10. Some bits have been changed slightly, not to change the plot, but to make certain things more effective.

SO GO READ IT!

By the way, if anybody manages to get a screenshot of this thread's 1,000,000th view (as shown on the AMW index page), I will draw that person a picture of their specification for free.

Turns out KR was right after all, he didn't get around to submitting the first part either. So here they both are!

Part One

KingRyan was once again resting his head on his rather comfortable wooden desk. At least it was actually early morning, so he wasn't missing anything...yet...

As the room turned from black to grey, a bird chirping outside the window woke him from his slumber. He blearily sat up and rubbed his eyes, a flash of his youthful fire flickering before it was replaced by the dull glow of old age.

Standing, he stretched his arms, feeling his elderly body screaming in complaint. Sighing, he set about finding some breakfast before glancing at his calendar to see what the day might hold. It came up blank.

It was only then that he heard the faint noises of a megaphone coming from the Ampitheatre, which was some distance away. He knew that he should probably be there, but this morning he just didn't have the energy. So he simply sat down at his desk and pulled out a blank piece of parchment.

Writing with a careful hand, he began to write about the times that once were - times of the past; early ArmorGames, the first Beta, and even of times before that. His youth, what was just a few years ago, before he settled in the Armorlands.

An hour or so passed, until he noticed a strange rumbling. It seemed to be coming from all around his cottage. He quickly stood, sat back down again as his muscles protested, then slowly stood. He moved to the window, where his favourite spying post was and looked out.

What he saw was simply chaos. There were people running everywhere, peaceful citizens of Armor City being chased by menacing figures. These strangers seemed to be lighting fire to anything that could be lit, and he knew they may soon notice his humble cottage.

With a speed which betrayed the age of his body, he moved to the corner of his room and moved a stiff wooden crate. He then pulled out a flat stone from the floor and revealed a metal lid. Pulling a key from around his neck, he opened it letting light into the small metal box below for the first time since the cottage was built.

Rushing to his desk, he collected all of his papers from his draws - all off his files. Every single piece of work was collected, countless documents, manuscripts, poems and histories. Bundling them all together, he placed them in the metal box neatly. Standing once more, he glanced around his beloved cottage at his numerous books and other possessions. He knew that there would not be much room for anything else, so he simply collected a few certificates from the walls and added them to the box.

KR sighed and closed the lid. He locked it and placed the stone over the top. Then, pulling his quill from his robe, he traced the stones outline. Once the rectangle was complete, the whole tile glowed bright green, before fading to normal. Quickly pushing the crate back into place, the old man collected a jar of tablets prescribed by Doctor Stroppykins and tucked them into a pocket in his robes. Then, he headed out the door.

Outside was now filled with more chaos than before. The streets were on fire, houses burning and people were screaming. Lifting his robe up from the ground, like a lady might hitch her dress, Kingryan exited the cottage and ran as quickly as he could towards the Library.

It was simply instinct that directed KR there, and his love for everything held within that building. Something told him that he could not let the strangers destroy all the books; precious, beloved books. And so, he ran as fast as he could, which was suprisingly fast.

When he finally reached the building, he was suprised that it seemed rather quiet. He was sure that they would have targeted it first, since it was so precious to him. It was only then that he turned and looked back over the city. There was smoke and fires everywhere. The biggest seemed to be around the Tavern and Ampitheatre. His mind flitted briefly to thoughts of the Moderators - what were they doing to help? How could this happen? If only that blasted Way of Moderation Tournament had been more productive. KingRyan had only payed slight attention towards the whole tournament since he was eliminated due to health risks - he had been more engrossed in the topic of AG3.

As he stood on the porch of library lost in thought, he saw them coming. There were three of them, wild looks on their faces. Each held a flaming torch, and he knew what their idea was. KingRyan did not have much time to decide what to do, his thoughts regressing to situations when he had fought before, times in the WoM Tournament - but he was not sure if had even fought in that. He just remembered water, lots of water, and a some fish. Hmm...fish, he did like that for dinner once in a while. Although he did prefer chicken...

'OUT OF THE WAY OLD MAN!' cried one of the strangers, snapping KR back to the present. Acting out of instinct once again, he whipped out his quill and without any thoughts he drew the handle and blade of an elegant, light and razor sharp. He did not know what he was doing, his mind was elsewhere as he placed the quill back in his pocket and wielded the sword.

'Oh, we're like, totally scared of you' laughed the vandals, but this comment flitted from KR's mind. He jumped from the porch with suprising agility and swung the sword at the three. It was a direct hit, but with suprising effects.

It seemed to slice right through them, halving them, but then nothing happened. They laughed at him, before looks of horror spread accross their faces. Then, very simply, they began to flutter to the ground head first, as they turned into pages upon pages of writing. When the process was finished, the pages were bound with dark brown covers, leaving three nondescript books on the floor at KingRyan's feet.

He collapsed to the ground, in shock. He didn't know what had happened, or why. He had not anticipated the sword, nor had he premeditated the effect of the sword. In the end, it had just seemed to happen and he was just as shocked at the books on the ground before him as the books themself which looked up at him. You could say the looks were blank, but the pages were filled with writing.

Kingryan sighed and then looked towards the approaching mob, a fiery glint in his eyes.

Part Two

The attackers from Newgrounds had left the city in chaos, and KingRyan had barricaded himself inside of the Library, somehow managing to push one of the bookshelves in front of the door.

He would have fought them, but their numbers were too great; and even with his new found ability he wouldn't have been able to fight them as he was just not agile enough.

Chest heaving and breath coming in and out of his body in wheezes, he tried to think of something that he could do to somehow save himself as well as the library.

With a flash, he remembered a fragment about something to do with his ranking. He had been ranked in the Top 100 users of Armorgames for...well...years, so it had to mean something. Thinking about his ranking, he then remembered his status of Prince. It wasn't a real status, as KingRyan knew that he was a King (a mighty one at that), but it did give him some extra benefits.

It was only after he got excited that he realised that this only have him a good house, and nothing else. He sighed in frustration.

Then there was a noise, a ZOMBAMMMM! The ground around him seemed to shake, and the books began to fall off of shelves. They hit the ground, some opening on their way down - crumpling pages, causing KingRyan to wince in pain.

Abandoning his position, KingRyan raced for the stairs as fast as his old body would let him. He took them two at a time, managing to get halfway up before he fell fowards after tripping and then tumbling back down the stairs.

Nursing a bruised body and pride, he slowly climbed the stairs, clinging to the handrail until he reached the First Floor (the one below it was the ground floor). He moved as fast as he could towards the nearest balcony, pushing through the wooden door and looking out over the city.

If he thought it had been in chaos before, it was worse now. The sky was thick with smoke, and hundreds of fires raged. But the biggest clouds of smoke came from where the great ArmorBank should have been. KingRyan couldn't see through the smoke, but a gut feeling told him that something wasn't right.

The gut feeling developed and KingRyan picked two choice words to use - "Oh, s***" - before running to where the nearest restroom was.

Emerging some minutes later, he shook his head and grumbled.

'Too much prune juice,' he told himself, before returning to the balcony.

During the time when he was out of action, KR had though of a slight idea which might help buy him some time. He looked down at the milling rioters who were currently trying to batter the door down with some strange object. He shuddered to think what its actual use was, before turning to the nearest bookshelf and reaching to grab a book.

He was about to grab the nearest book when he paused and read the spines. He could not decide which one he could sacrifice - he loved them all. Hand hovering over 'The Life and Times of Muffin; List of AG Users; and AG Terms and Conditions: Expanded Edition,' KingRyan almost broke down with the thought of what he might be about to do. He closed his eyes and recomposed himself, grabbing a tome and heaving it off the shelf.

With some difficulty, KR carried the heavy volume which was titled, 'The Tolkein Suit,' he walked over to the balcony and promptly dropped it off.

It fell towards the ground, landing with a thud on one of the attackers. He fell to the ground, stunned, causing the others to look up at the balcony.

"Hey! We could get up there! That old coot just let us in! Awesome!" they shouted, and KingRyan felt his hopes plummet.

Suddenly there was a shout in the distance.

"AP IS WORTHLESS! Quick, grab whatever you can! We can sell it in other cities and make a killing!'

The library's attackers turned and began to run towards the Shopping district leaving KingRyan sighing in relief. The he realised his bigger problem.

With AP now worthless, the city would be in mass panic. Looking out once more at the city, KR clearly saw this and was filled with worry. AP had never really concerned him, yet he was proud of his ranking, and his merits. All thirty six of them.

He thought about his small cottage, and hoped that all of his documents would stay safe. There was one folder in there that he knew might be needed soon, possibly even by Strop.

The city was still in chaos, and KR felt powerless - knowing that he could do almost nothing to save his beloved city.

---

Now that this submission has been recorded, I will resume updating the archive, and as soon as I've finished the relevant images, I will also take you through the next segments.

I've said it many times already, but trust me, things are still gonna get a lot worse before they get better. I'mma show you how to make epic.

May I post now Strop?

I'mma show you how to make epic.

May I post now Strop?

I don't know ether to feel annoyed or amused. I'll take amused! Ahhh there we go...
Strop: wat the hay is he on about? Or on?
Efan: It's being awake at 2:00 am powa! You should try some!
Strop:...
Efan:
Strop: Here take these once every two hours *hands over pills.
Efan: hey lollies! gimme that *snatches
Strop: don't take them all at once!
Efan: ....
Strop: Efan?
Efan: .... wow. I can. see. feel everythiingg!...
someone: What are the side effects Strop?
Strop: *reading* overdose may include hyperactivity, torrets and projectiloe vomiting!
Everyone: oohh FUUUU-...

The room was a dark grotty affair, one grimy window, one falling apart bed. Efan was the unrecognisable pile of orange fur on the ground, next to the bed. Without warning he sprang up with a start.

"CRAP! "I'm late". Efan grabbed his keys and shoved them into his pockets then pulled on his apron, the apron smearing his tousled fur with last nights vomit and spit. The floors gave their usual creak when he noticed a distinct lack of sound; namely the snoring from all the drunks he "forgot" to force out of the bar room. Efan went and stood behind his usual spot in the bar and waited. And waited. And - "CRASH"! A large red tennis ball broke through the window to his right and landed in he fire place. Having seen too many action movies, Efan soon recognised this as a grenade; or at least he did after the **** thing exploded.

When Efan regained consciousness his left ear heard screams followed by the sounds of deranged laughter. He wiped the grit from his eyes and staggered behind what was now half a bar and tried to make sense of the goings on. After regaining some strength from some nuts and a shot of whiskey he peered outside. The carnage wasn't hard to see as the entire street had been devastated by a lethal assault of mass destuction. There was group of soldiers at the edge of the street laughing, as Efan crept closer he thought: There is only one force that consists mostly of greasy, high pitched teens: NEWGROUNDS. Efan had known that the tension between Armor games and newgrounds had been high for a long time, but they were invading? Glaring at the "soldiers", Efan decided to teach those scrawny punks a lesson. For now more then ever, was a chance for Efan to be a hero, someone of recognition.

It was a total of twenty two minutes before Efan was ready, armed to the teeth in three Molotove cocktails and a medium sized bottle opener, he walked into the street and yelled, "Hey"! "suck on this losers"! Lit a cocktail and threw it, where it was shot out of the air by one of the teens.
"Is that all you've got"!? Yelled one of them, showing of his pathetic cliche.
"**** kids and their first person shooters"! Thought Efan as he fumbled with another one.
As he did so, the newgrounds "soldiers" were wondering what to do. "I think we should shoot him Mikey"! said the youngest.
"Shut up"! "You have to call me by my user name"! Said the eldest, a skinny lad that had clearly never held a weapon before.
"Okay killer awesome dude, do you think we should shoot him"?
A third one piped up: "but we've never shot anyone before"!
"Well this is our chance"! "Come on"

"I'm sure I doused this cloth properly" Efan muttered as he tipped the bottle upside down."There we are" He looks up to see them surrounding him and trying to look menacing.
With a cloud of smoke, a moving blur appears out of nowhere dishing out punches and kicks. Strop appeared with a stressed look upon his face surrounded by the moaning newgrounds soldiers
"This isn't a good time to play hero, I need you to get as many people as you can to the Amusement Park."

Thanks, Efan.

I'm currently waiting on some cameos to come in, otherwise I'm ready to continue updating the next installment. Crimson, check your email!

Better get the tissues ready. Just saying.