It was a sad day for armorgames...it was maybe 6 months ago. Our founder, and something of god, Daniel McNeely, had passed away. Of what? Well, Prostate Cancer (because he was too stubborn to get an exam), and about 1 million spam bots, and another 1 million ghosts, that haunted ArmorLand. Daniel went out in a blast, however, he had slaughtered almost all of the spam bots, and revoked half of the ghosts. He did it all by himself, how was he killed? The 3 spamlords, had destroyed him. His sucsessor, Carlie, was then put in charge in the ArmorCastle (Most of the places I will be talking about is Here Thank you strop for the well illustrated map), and hunted down the 3 spamlords whom killed our honest and great king. Carlie Ruled over ArmorLand for another 3 months, it was quiet, but she had ignored the hauntings, especially fluent in the Tavern. Many Drunks were possessed and killed during her Term. We thought that it was still okay, however. We praised Carlie. Sadly, her term was not as long as we had hoped, she soon died. Of what? Murder. Crowds of people came to the meeting hall, and the ArmorCastle, ranting, raving, rioting, and hatespamming of this terrible crime. "Who could have murdered Carlie?!" Everyone shouted. Indeed, it was a sad time. After this, the Mods had done something they almost NEVER done before, they argued with each other. The arguments and debates never ceased, and then, it turned to flames. War broke out in ArmorLand! Some people flee'd to the gates, but using their mighty ban-tools, the Moderators crushed the fleeing users, and captured those who might survive the mighty blow. Those who were captured were either brainwashed, raped, or enslaved. Oddly, Ubertuna had never went into the moderation wars, he stayed at the ArmorCastle, completely unknowing of this terrible instance! He had been too busy fighting off several armies, some of which from the moderators themselves, trying to either defile or conquer the Castle, taking it for themselves. Zoph had been fighting with Strop for the Imaginarium and the other artistry sectors of Armorland, mainly composed to the south. Strop took over alot of the North, and some of the west as well. Moegreche had completely exiled and pushed back strops efforts to capture the debate area of ArmorLand. Using large, mechanical constructs of stone and powerful Logick (majick + logic), that crushed the users mind with pure sense, and that won every debate. Moegreche has two, extremely large Contructs, which he calls the Sentenials that stand guard out his Mansion. Zoph has a castle made entirely out of paintings and sculptures, and has a garden/field of mazzelhs, which tend to sleep with her. Her good friend Cenere is her right hand man, and has a regemin of warriors modeled after her character Kai. Ubertuna stays at his post, constantly fighting in a valiant battle against the riots of the ArmorLanders. He is a great soul, indeed. There was but one force to stop the madness (SPARTAAAAA) of the Moderation wars. That was called the Syndicate, a group of long time users that go into the tavern for secret meetings, telling each other of the moderators plans. Most of the people in the Syndicate are club members. Sadly, clubs were the first to be enslaved. The Moderation wars have just begun.
WHOO, I've been thinking of this concept of the Moderation Wars for a couple days, I hope you guys all like, since ArmorGames themed stories seem to be pretty popular nowadays.
But....then a giant mazzelh fell from the sky, squishing Sense into oblivion. He was so squished that he couldn't come back to life. Later on, the Mazzelh won the Biggest Loser.
But....then a giant mazzelh fell from the sky, squishing Sense into oblivion. He was so squished that he couldn't come back to life. Later on, the Mazzelh won the Biggest Loser.
The Moderation Wars: Segment 3 "OK, Blaze, Skater, Crimson," I said to some of the board, nodding in the hopes of them to come with me. They followed into the apartment #369, of the tavern, where most of the ghost accounts resided. "I hear this ghost account can tell us something about the fate of the Syndicate," I told the board, and we stepped in. The ghost resonated in a hum, with cold, unfeeling tone, it's H's slurring with a hum. "Hhhow are you feeling, Mr. Thoad?" The ghost asked, echoes of sorrow coming out of it's premature mouth. The ghost was in the form of a child, normally meaning that it had nothing more than 3 AP, which is both used as currency and a lifeline. Ghosts with 0 AP can rarely move, let alone speak. "You told me that you know something," I told the ghost, with a cold and unfeeling tone. Crimson nodded and looked at the ghost, "What do you have to say, ghost?" He asked. "You need not feel thhhhreatend, I am not malevolent." It said, a concluding feeling felt with it's tone. "I shhhall tell you one thhhing and one thhhing only, thhhere is a spy in thhhis very room," It said. The members of the board gasped in suprise. Comments of "Upon the syndicate?!" and "The ghost lies!". I looked back towards the board, "Okay, form up, the ghost will most likely-" Before I could finish my thought, the ghost spoke up. "No, I can and shhhhall not do thhhhhis for you. You must sort thhhhis out upon yourssself." It told me, in a cold and unforgiving tone, it had then vanished, leaving streaks of blue mist in the air. "Damn, we'll discuss this next meeting, now is not the time," I said to the confused and angry board. Little did I know, there was a mazzelh baby in the corner, peeking it's head outside the mousehole in the corner.
