Curse

Yoom Omer · May 10, 2007, 06:05 PM // 18:05

Quote:

Originally Posted by Government Flu

Guild Wars Flameseeker Parodies
Chapter Four
BIG STORY

The more you know.™©®¢

ZOMG
ן just lay on the floor and laughed for half hour.

keep it up.

Aleks · May 12, 2007, 09:41 PM // 21:41

I LOVED the last chapter! Keep up the amazing work!

MrSlayer · May 13, 2007, 12:25 AM // 00:25

That was AWESOME. Finally someone has discovered the true purpose of Mesmer's in pve.

Dude you rock

Knight of The Shadows · May 13, 2007, 12:26 AM // 00:26

Goodness your trying to kill with laughter!

Government Flu · May 15, 2007, 11:17 AM // 11:17

Well, after drinking a giant Monster (energy drink) I couldn't sleep so I typed up the next chapter and finished it. I'll format the new material and post it in a few minutes.

Thank you all for those comments and I hope you continue to enjoy my tale!

Government Flu · May 15, 2007, 11:30 AM // 11:30

Guild Wars Flameseeker Parodies
Chapter 5

The ominous altar stares across the horizon in a blank stupor, ready to be filled by the magics of experienced Charr shamans. It has sucked the very essence from the wildlife around it, leaving the trees dead and rotting, the ground caked and dry, and leaving the air with a sulfurous smell. The Charr have recently erected this foul structure to worship their powerful gods but already the corruption sinks deep into the roots of the earth. The empty altar is now filled with mystical blue fire, crackling in the still sky, barely a single cloud moving across the far greater shadow of this mysterious shrine...

Charr Shaman 1: <Who brought the steaks?>

Charr Warrior 1: <I got them, I got them!>

Charr Shaman 2: <Let’s fire this baby up!>

Charr Shaman 3: <This has got to be the biggest grill we have ever constructed. The titans should be pleased by our offering of Skale bacon, skale sirloin, skale chops, skale bones, skale buffalo wings, and skaled skale.>

Charr Warrior 2: <I think we used too much propane, the flame shouldn’t be this blue.>

As the meat begins to sizzle on the grill, a great warrior looms into view.

Swordfur Pissesrazors: <Stop my brothers! A grave tradegy has occured! My sons, they have all been killed by the humans!>

Charr Shaman 1: <Do we really need to hear depressing news now? We’re just starting our grilling party. It’s gonna go all night long.>

Charr Warrior 1: <The titans demand it!>

Swordfur: <No! Whoever has been translating the ancient scrolls doesn’t know a thing about the language of the titans! This is not what they want from us!>

Charr Shaman 1: <No one has been following any scrolls or ancient verse here.>

Swordfur: <What, you mean you all just decided to have a barbeque?>

Charr Shaman 2: <That’s right.>

Swordfur: <Using a sacred altar?>

Charr Warrior 1: <We used the wood from our Titan statues to make the skewers for our mixed meat sticks too. Want to try one? They’re fantastic.>

Swordfur: <So that’s why the Titans only have one leg now... Look! That’s not important! I have a better idea! Something that will truly please the Titans and finally finish this war once and for all! We must use...>

Charr Shaman 1: <...the forbidden sauce?>

Swordfur: <Stop thinking about food! Listen, we must gather our strongest heroes together and use forbidden magic, yes, magic to make the humans fall to their knees! My son’s lives must be avenged!>

Charr Warrior 2: <Swordfur, I couldn’t help but notice your axe is stuck in a large chunk of wood. In fact, it looks like an entire tree.>

Swordfur: <Yes, yes. This is true. I couldn’t get it out, so I’ll just wield it as is. I’m strong enough for such a task.>

Oakheart: ...aaahh...help...meee....

And so, while the Charr plan something absolutely delicious and diabolical at the same time, let’s see what the Ascalonians are up to.

Monk Training Session, Part 2

Ciglo: Don’t worry, the scarring should be gone when your flesh regrows. Eventually.

Monk 1: Thank you Brother Ciglo...

Mhenlo: If I wasn’t here praying to Dwayna today, you all would have died. Except for Brother Ciglo, who was kind enough to cast Healing Breeze, Shield of Regeneration, Mending, Life Bond, Protective Spirit, Vital Blessing, Reversal of Fortune, and Shielding Hands on himself. He also found enough time to buy himself a soda while I hurried to save all of you.

Monk 2: Brother Ciglo did his best, Mhenlo. We must not blame but instead forgive.

Ciglo burps.

Mhenlo: Yes, yes. You’re right. A shame about Howland though. He was too badly burned to save. I tried to resurrect him but when his freshly slain corpse regained life...he just set himself on fire again.

Monk 3: Thank you for showing us all of those wonderful skills Brother Mhenlo. Condition removal is surely a must for our travels. I think I speak for all of us when I say we owe you our lives and thanks.

Ciglo: Yah don’t speak for me.

Monk 2: Please don’t be so callous Ciglo.

Ciglo: Condition removal shmooval. Enchantments are where it’s at. That’s what keeps you going.

Mhenlo: You can stop maintaining them now Ciglo. You’re not in any danger.

Ciglo: I’ll keep them on me for the time being, thank you very much. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go and buy myself another drink.

Ciglo walks off into town.

Monk 1, sighing: There goes a confident healer.

Mhenlo: His confidence is so great I fear that he might fall into a trap one of these days...

Monk 2: One more enchantment and I don’t even think any oxygen would be able to go into his lungs.

Ciglo, shouting from a distance: Ow, I stubbed my f-cking toe!

Warrior Training Session, Part 2

Without knowing, the mesmers have been surrounded by a pack of warriors eager to hone their skills. Van whispers to his men reassuringly, going over the plan of attack as horses gently snort within the stable, mixing their sounds with the screams of horrified mesmers and an increasingly panicked Sebedoh.

Van: Alright, ‘ere’s what we’re gonna do lads. I want ya two ta sprint into the stable ‘n open all the stable doors, then the second wave will smack the horses ‘n run away causing them to get angry and possibly stampede, eh? The last team I want ta use the blunt end o their weapons ‘n hit every mesmer in the face, stomach, balls, knees, anywhere ya want lads I don’t really give a damn.

Warrior 1: What if we kill one of them, sir?

Van: Ye’ve all got resurrection signets right lads?

All of the warriors laugh loudly.

Warrior 2: Of course not!

Van: Atta boy! Who cares what ‘appens ta mesmers? No one even knows what they’re really used for! Now go on, show me what ya all be capable of! Except for you laddie. I’ve yet ta see a beard grow from yer chin.

Female Warrior: Yy-yes sir!

The first team of warriors rushes in and does as instructed, smashing the doors open and opening the stables, pushing mesmers out of the way and laughing giddily. One of them runs into a wall, narrowly missing the exit. He is knocked unconscious. His last thought is why the wall didn’t move out of his way as the second wave goes in to irritate the horses. One of the mesmers is kicked to the other end of the barn when one of the steeds thrusts out its hind legs. ‘Ol Flatulence was unfortunately slapped in the ass, which caused his bowels to roar into action. Suffice to say, the area of effect damage was all encompassing and it’ll take years to wipe the stench from the stable clean.

The last wave comes in and starts to bash the living crap out of the remaining mesmers still standing on their feet.

Warrior 6: Have at thee!

Panicking, the mesmer about to be hit conjures up a nightmare that thankfully hits the victim and not the caster. The warrior stops and drops his sword, gaping into the empty field brimming through the open door.

Warrior 6: No...no! My worst fears have come true! It’s a full battalion of first century literature I never wanted to read! And they’re galloping on paper ponies carrying rubber knives! Oh by the—huh?

Alas, the spell only lasted five seconds and the warrior sees the mesmer trying to tiptoe away. Subsequently, the warrior uses his fist to give the mesmer a migraine. This one isn’t so much a hex as it is a condition. A very nasty, nasty condition.

Elementalist Training Session, Part 2

We find the group of Elementalists safe and sound in a more peaceful part of the forest, where the thick smoke is a faint trail in the afternoon sky. But who saved them in their time of need? None other than...

The Real Howland: So you see, that was just a babbling idiot that went insane and ran off into the wilds two years ago. I’m surprised you all came across him when you did. Very bad luck I’d have to say. But I managed to find my students just before that section of the forest collapsed on you all! Ha! Now that’s the good kind of luck we all need these days right?

Elementalist 1: We thought we were goners when those level 1 Burning Squirrels started throwing melting acorns at us.

Elementalist 2: How did the imposter go insane?

Howland: He had tripped over a root and scratched his knee.

Elementalist 2: That’s it?!

Howland: Then a snake bit him in the other knee.

Elementalist 2: Hmm...

Howland: Then as he was getting up, a badger crapped on his robes.

Elementalist 2: Oh, okay...well...

Howland: Then a bear ambled over and mauled him. Took all of his gold and a valuable fire staff. Smart bear, I think.

Elementalist 2: Alright, I understand now.

Howland: Then two more snakes bit him.

Elementalist 2: ...

Howland: And a mongoose. I was very surprised it went after him and not the snakes. Anyway, after that for some strange reason he thought that the forest was laughing at him and he just kind of wandered off, mumbling something about seeking medical attention. I don’t really care for that kind of conversation, so I let him be. I’m a pyromancer, not a monk. So! Here’s your first real lesson.

Elementalist 1: Finally! That guy was nuts but you seem perfectly alright. What’s first on our list, great mage?

Howland: Lesson one. How to burn down a forest calmly, and properly. Always start with the tallest tree in sigh and work your way down, making sure to set fire to the wildlife so they can spread it as they run around in pure agony.

Elementalist 3: Hey chaps, this makes perfect sense! I think I’m finally starting to get it!

Howland: Lesson two will be blaming it on the rangers, but we’ll get to that once we’ve had practice with the first part, okay?

And so the first tree is set ablaze...

Necromancer Training Session, Part 2

Verata: This clearing is absolutely perfect my foolish henchmen. Look at all the wolves just ambling around waiting for their demise.

Necromancer 1: Yeah, I always wondered why all the wildlife always moved about so slowly and without purpose. Even when you get close to them they still just kind of shift from place to place, aimlessly moving in a random pattern.

Verata: Enough thoughts my young one, you might hurt your fragile mind. Now go out my minions, and kill those wolves so that I may show you all how to raise their corpses to create horrific creations. The mark of a true necromancer.

All Necromancers: Yes my master!

Verata: What was that?

Necromancer 2: Oh, do we really have to say it?

Verata: Yes!

All Necromancers: Yes my mighty master of death, whom all living things tremble for he commands the very leylines of Grenth’s unstoppable power, he who chills the bones of warriors shut, he who rips the strength from holy monks, he who...

Necromancer 3: Master, the wolves are starting to leave the area.

Verata: Oh very well! You can all finish my proper title later. Go forth and kill those vicious creatures!

Necromancer 1: But you haven’t taught us any skills yet, master.

Verata, sighing: Fine. Here, take these barbed signets. Use them on the wolves and stop complaining.

Necromancer 2: I don’t want to pick that up. It’s got barbs all over it.

Verata, annoyed: That’s the point.

Necromancer 2: How is it supposed to be wielded?

Verata deftly picks up one of the signets without hurting himself and places it firmly into the inquiring Necromancer’s hands. He screams in pain as the barbs dig into his skin.

Verata: There. Now go flail around like an idiot until you hit something.

And so the small group of necromancers, under the guidance of their trainer, take their signets and begin trying to kill the wolves. Many of them die in the process, victims of rabid teeth marks, deep claw wounds, and massive blood loss due to barbed signets firmly lodged in their hands. The few that survive triumphantly return to Verata. He yawns at the aftermath.

Verata: Alright, now stand back and watch in amazement.

The necromancers all run and hide behind a grove of trees.

Verata: You don’t have to go that far back you fools. It won’t kill you.

They all seem hesitant but they agree to go back to their trainer. Using his immense power, Verata focuses his mind on one of the fresh corpses and lowers his hands to the body, slowly moving his fingers to create a wave of deathly force that rushes into the cadaver and rips it back into existence, the flesh ripping itself off as the bones reassemble and warp to create something truly shambling and terrifying. A bone minion. It stares blankly at the master who created it.

Verata: A rather simple creation, but a good start. You must all focus your darkest thoughts to the forefront of your mind and then release them gently through the fingertips to power the body, then use forceful movements of the arms to bring it into animation. You! I want you to try first.

The necromancer nods and focuses on his corpse. He stares intently, moving his fingers to and fro, until he finally musters enough willpower to bring his own ghastly creation into being. Verata looks intrigued at what was wrought.

Verata: Interesting. You animated the wolf’s...jaws. What kind of thoughts were you using to power your spell?

The little minion skitters away into the forest as the necromancer blushes.

Necromancer 1: I have poor dental coverage.

Verata: A foul thought indeed, but not foul enough. You! Try next.

And so the second necromancer conjures his animation spell, with similar results. Verata is a bit less intrigued and a lot more disgusted this time around.

Verata: Yes, yes. That’s all well and good, but a minion made out of a wolf’s testicles won’t do the trick. I’m not even going to wonder about what thoughts you were thinking of when you summoned that into being. Next failure please.

The third necromancer seems confident, and selects his corpse carefully.

Verata: If I see another undead genital, one of you will die. So choose your thoughts carefully.

The necromancer nods and does his spell. The minion that arises seems to be perfect, an exact copy of Verata’s. The trainer eyes the creation with a raised brow, incredulous.

Verata: Is it possible that after all these batches of idiots one student with potential somehow made it into my midst?

The minion walks up to Verata and raises its arms. The master necromancer prepares himself to counterattack, but instead of starting an assault, the minion gives Verata a warm, gooey hug. Then it starts to dance.

Verata: And this is what happens when you combine sadistic thoughts with happy ones. You fail. You’re all the worst lot of minion masters I’ve ever seen. Get out of my sight.

The minion seems to understand the necromancer’s harsh words, and shrugs. It turns to its masters and gives a horrific grimace that resembles a smile. It waves good-bye and walks off into the forest.

Mesmer Training Session, Part 2

There’s not much to say here. The mesmers went off to the Sanitarium to get treated by the monks but were attacked by a rouge bull on their way there. The badly battered and bruised mesmers tried to defend themselves by throwing signets at the beast, but to no avail. Some of them were knocked into tree branches, struck down and stamped on, or laughed at by the bandits watching. The remaining survivors went back to Ascalon City as Sebedoh tried to reassure them that this happens every year and that eventually they would learn a spell or two.

Total number of causalities: Five mesmers. Ten pairs of pants. Three masks. Six silk shirts. A skale that happened to be trampled by a tiny little pony as it splashed about the river.

Ranger Training Session, Part 2

Ranger 1: I swear I’m not lying! I just saw a pair of testicles scurry over to that tree stump over there!

Artemis: You’re being foolish, now calm down. Before we track the cause of all these forest fires, I want you all to learn something important: how to charm and tame an animal companion. Now, I know some rangers use advanced methods like wearing a provocative dress and using animal mating calls, but for beginners its best to just use meat, berries, or something shiny. Come to think of it, that method will probably last you all your life. So forget I ever said anything about dresses.

Ranger 2: Okay.

Artemis: I DON’T CROSS DRESS EVERY FRIDAY AND HIT ON WARRIORS IN BARS! STOP ACCUSING ME!

Ranger 2: No one was...

Ranger 1: I’m starting to lose it. I just saw a full set of teeth clattering after the testicles.

Artemis: Over here is a serene clearing where a lot of wolves are usually found. It’s very remote so the wildlife should be observed carefully. No sudden movements, and remember to...to...

Ranger 3: What the hell...?

The rangers all file out into the clearing to find several human corpses and dozens of slaughtered wolves.

Artemis: Oookkkaayyyy. No target practice because someone burned down that part of the forest, no animal charming because all of the animals are dead and now we’ve got another fire brewing to the south over there where our wilderness survival test used to be.

Ranger 3: What now?

Artemis: We track down the bastards who did this. And we put an arrow through each of their hearts.

Ranger 1: I don’t even know how to notch my bow yet.

Artemis: Alright, fine. You’re all dismissed I’m going after them alone.

Artemis, in a calm fury runs off deep into the woods, leaving his students behind. They all turn to look at each other.

Ranger 2: Uh...does anyone know how to get back to Ascalon from here?

They all shake their heads.

Ranger 2: Great. We’re dead.

And back at the castle courtyard...

Prince Rurik: I must get this sword out of the stone! No one is watching so I can use my secret method...perhaps that’s what my father wants me to do. To use my cunning!

Prince Rurik has brought a chisel and hammer with him and so he begins to chip away at the rock while occassionally blowing his trumpet to keep his own morale up. A few soldiers pass by as they patrol the yard and they all agree the young prince has lost his mind. Finally, after afternoon had given way to dusk and dusk to night, Prince Rurik releases enough of the sword to pull it out...only to reveal...

Prince Rurik: But, but! This is just the hilt of a sword! How can this be?!

Just then, the squire walks by with a pot of glue. He quickly conceals it when he sees the prince kneeled over the stone. Rurik turns to the squire.

Prince Rurik: Squire! What has happened to my father’s legendary sword? Have the ages ravaged it beyond repair?

Squire: Ah, no actually. He took the blade part to get it shined at the blacksmith’s.

Prince Rurik: Oh.

Squire: Yeah, he has me make a new rock mold every week. You know how it is.

Prince Rurik: Indeed. Well, I suppose I’ll just...keep using my dragon sword. The one that doesn’t bloody work.

Squire: Might I offer a suggestion?

Prince Rurik: What?

Squire: Press the “on” button.

Prince Rurik: This sword has a button?

Squire: Well yeah. I mean, what? You thought the sword just always blazed away? How could anyone sheathe or store it properly if it didn’t have an off switch?

Prince Rurik fumbles around with his sword until he finds the on switch. It makes clicking sounds like a lighter on a stove would, but fails to light.

Squire: Looks like it needs some more fluid.

Prince Rurik: Damn it! Lighter fluid is so expensive ever since Orr blew up.

And back at the town, Van the warrior is awakened by the loud and somewhat obnoxious knocking of his door. He grumbles as he shuffles over to the front entrance and opens it to reveal an excited Warren, hammer still dripping wet with blood.

Van: What do ye want lad?

Warren: I’ve come for my training session, sir!

Van: It’s two in the morning.

Warren: Never a better time then, huh?

Van: Go away. Come back tomorrow.

Van shuts the door and goes back to his bed, but Warren is at the window grinning at his trainer.

Van: Gah! What are ye doin’?!

Warren: Can you please please please give me a quest?

Van: Bloomin’ ‘ell leave me alone! Here take this quest journal and come back tomorrow! Let me sleep!

In the meantime, at the Sanitarium...

Valin: I’ve come to seek your wisdom.

Mhenlo: Unfortunately, I’m not the trainer you’re looking for. Ciglo is the one you’re looking for.

Valin: Where’s he?

Mhenlo points to a singing, dancing man carrying a soda bottle around and slurring at all the passerby.

Valin: But he’s a drunk.

Mhenlo: Actually, he just had a lot of sugar.

Valin: Please teach me instead.

Mhenlo: I’m sorry, but Ciglo is your designated trainer. However, I feel we are destined to cross paths again quite soon and...hey where are you going?

Valin: To the pub.

And so, with the training sessions more or less complete for the majority of the new Ascalon recruits, only a few stragglers are left to be trained into the rites of combat...in the meantime, the Charr are grilling away like mad while Swordfur pleads with the other heroes to follow through with a new plan to defeat the humans...one hero in particular seems to be very interested.

And deep in the forest, the wayward minion stumbles into a dark cave occupied by a bear. A bear with a fire staff. Together, they dance the night away. And near Piken Square, a top secret operative eyes the Charr Altar...

Solid Strider. (He’s real!)

He takes out his quill and parchment and begins to write.

“Octagon, come in Octagon. We’ve got a situation here. What I thought was a simple scouting mission turned out to be something way bigger. The Charr have erected a huge altar and I need to know what it’ll take to blow something up of that size. My location is in the Northlands, so send in the soot covered child north to northeast this time. Solid Strider out. Oh and by the way, tell the Colonel I haven’t found Wooden Gear yet.”

The legendary spy folds the parchment into a paper airplane and launches it into the darkness. He then opens a crumpled note he’s read time and time again:

“Strider, this is Octagon. I’ll get the information on Wooden Gear as soon as possible.”

Solid Strider, sighing: I wish there was a faster way to communicate. Damn this is slow.

Next time on Flameseeker Parodies, learn all about why monsters have pockets full of gold. And why they had pockets to begin with.

Brother Doug · May 15, 2007, 12:37 PM // 12:37

Hahaha, this is excellent. Wonderfully funny.

Yoom Omer · May 15, 2007, 05:32 PM // 17:32

That was good.
Very good.

Morgoroth · May 15, 2007, 06:24 PM // 18:24

Absolutely perfect, what else to say?
Just a bit curious about Ciglo casting Life Bond on himself ^^

deyond driven · May 15, 2007, 10:26 PM // 22:26

This is top quality comic writing very well done on it all, given me many laughs

Aleks · May 23, 2007, 01:15 AM // 01:15

LOL! Awesome! I eagerly anticipate your next chapter!

Government Flu · May 24, 2007, 11:18 AM // 11:18

Finishing touches on the sixth chapter are underway. Be sure to take part in the interactive part at the end.

Thanks for your continued support everyone!

Government Flu · May 24, 2007, 11:25 AM // 11:25

Guild Wars Flameseeker Parodies
Chapter Six

Excerpt from the Ascalon Strategy Companion:

“...which is why soufflé monsters should be avoided at all costs.

Now that you’ve familiarized yourself with the preface regarding on why some monsters will tear you into tiny assorted shapes and sizes, it’s time to explain monster loot. Picture this scenario: After a terrifying battle against a level 0 Skale Tadpole, you notice that he drops a water wand. Now, what was a Skale doing with a water wand? How did it get there to begin with? Why didn’t you see it until the monster was killed? Here are the explanations:

First of all, most indigenous creatures have evolved fleshy pouches which they use to store food or gold coins. (Or smaller, cuter versions of themselves.) Many of the lower level creatures can’t distinguish between actual sustenance and coin, so they vainly eat any gold they happen to find lying around in the hopes they won’t starve.

When they die, the smarter monsters eat the stupid one that starved to death, and store the gold they found on its body within their fleshy “pockets.” It is the general belief among scholars that the items stocked inside their pouches once meant to hold some future purpose for them, but they had really short attention spans and forgot they were carrying a staff or sword, preferring to wander aimlessly in a fixed trajectory silently awaiting death at the hands of a skilled fighter, or in the case of low level creatures, children frolicking in the fields.

As for human beings such as bandits or humanoid creatures like those funny looking dwarves, they merely keep their prized belongings on their persons at all times. It is commonly believed soldiers take sacks of gold into battle to throw up into the air when they achieve victory. Scholars world over believe this practice is completely retarded. But what about the enemies you’ll encounter that are classified as “Bosses?”

Excerpt from Vanguard Casualty Report:

“...the pancakes, therefore, were exceptional. Now on to more somber news.

The recent skirmish outside of Piken Square has given Prince Rurik’s Vanguard a critical blow. Battlefield deaths are reported to be nearly tallied, but initial estimates have our total at ten highly trained warriors and one veteran monk dead. We are still placing heads and other assorted limbs to what appear to be their proper bodies. Suffice to say, we have a few spare legs we have no idea what to do with. Prince Rurik is safe and sound, having retreated at an unknown time to an unknown location. At our current standing, we have three warriors and one ranger left at the Vanguard’s disposal. We have not counted the ranger’s Melandru Stalker, Claws, since it is dying from feline leukemia.

The ranger has not yet been notified and oddly enough remains oblivious of his companion’s condition. We are going to review his competence soon.

As for the equipment recovered...”

Official Letter From King Adelbern, addressed to Northern Wall Command Post.

“My loyal subjects, it has come to my attention that the Charr have erected a strange altar in the nearby wilderness and it greatly concerns me. This new camp seems to be directly positioned in the middle of the pastry caravan’s delivery route. I must stress the importance of getting my sweets delivered to me on time; else I will be forced to replace the entire Northern Command Chain with senile old men to save money. (For expensive local sweets.)

While I skimmed your detailed report about how glorious the campaign is going against the Charr, I must remain reserved about our chances if the enemy is able to cut off my imported cake supply. Therefore, I will be sending in the entire Southern force to assist your men with overseeing the new pastry deliveries. They aren’t too busy, something about securing an old bunker near Fort Ranik so the Charr don’t sneak in or some such rubbish! Enclosed in this letter is also an autographed picture of myself, which will surely give you all a massive morale boost.

Lastly, I would like to invite you all to a grand gala ball I’m throwing tonight to celebrate our costly but viciously successful war against the Charr. You needn’t worry about your posts or finding replacements, as I’m sure the Charr will respect our right to have a day off from battle.

King Adelbern,

May the Wall Stand. Regardless of condition!

Northern Gate Captain: I thought my letter depicted how horrible the war was going for us?

Soldier: Why do I feel weakened staring at this picture...?

Northern Gate Captain: Put it in the storage chest over there, quick! Before it saps more of our strength!

Excerpt from new transmission, Octagon:

Strider? Strider?! STTTTRRRRIIIDDDDEEEERRRR!

Solid Strider: ...Great. He thinks I’m dead. But...why?

Just then!

Rustling of the leaves and nearby bushes.

Solid Strider: What was that sound?

Just then!

More rustling. Some annoyed mumbling.

Solid Strider: Who is it? Show yourselves!

Just then!

A man jumps out of the bushes and falls flat on his face. He quickly recovers, brushes the grass off his cape and glares.

Mysterious Man: So, it looks like SKALEHOUND sent their retired old lackey? You were a fool to try and stop the Charr, Sna—uh, Strider!

Solid Strider: Recurver Bowcelot?!

Recurver Bowcelot: That’s right Snak—damn it—Strider! Remember this?

Recurver Bowcelot pulls up his pants to reveal a scratched knee.

Solid Strider: What about it?

Recurver Bowcelot: It hurt! I almost cried because of you, Strider! Now it’s your turn.

Solid Strider: To what, cry?

Recurver Bowcelot: No, no. It’s much simpler than that. I’m going to kill you, and then take Meta—err, Iron Gear!

Solid Strider: Iron Gear? But the Gear is made out of wood. I heard it’s not even that effective. Very flammable. Probably not a good weapon to begin with.

Recurver Bowcelot: No matter! I can’t be stopped! Prepare to die!

Just then, a paper airplane flies into Strider’s lap. Bowcelot eyes it as Strider unfolds it and reads...

Strider! I’m glad you’re okay. Listen, you have to watch out for Recurver Bow’s multi shot attack. Duck behind the trees when you see him notching his black arrow, that’s your first tip off.

Try to aim at the feather in his hair; he seems to have some kind of attachment to it. If you knock it down, it should distract him long enough to use your best skills against him. When he gets to around half health, he’ll start ducking behind the bushes and shooting at you from under cover, so make sure to find a safe spot to lie low, then fire away when he starts making some kind of wiseass comment—that’s the sign he’s reloading.

Oh, and when he’s about to die, the battle will stop and Grey Lynx will cut his arm off. Good luck, Strider!

Bowcelot looks over Strider’s shoulder and reads all of this as the message is wrapped back up.

Recurver Bowcelot: How does this Octagon guy know so much about me?

Solid Strider: I don’t know, but you read the end, right? Your arm’s going to get lopped off, so let’s go!

Recurver Bowcelot: Ah, you know what? Screw that. I’ll uh, look for Wooden Gear somewhere else. This isn’t over Strider!

Some more mumbling and rustling of the bushes as Bowcelot disappears.

Solid Strider, sighing: Sometimes I get the feeling my life is one giant parody of something that doesn’t even belong in this time period or setting.

Excerpt from Ascalon Strategy Companion:

“...so the boss’s weapon might be stuck to the body’s cold dead fingers, in which case the person who killed this powerful creature or human, can’t take their rare and unique weapon for their own use.

It is as of yet unknown why the weapon can’t always just be pried out. As one unnamed adventurer once exclaimed: It makes no goddamn sense. None at all. I mean, the f-cking sword is right there. Why can’t I just take it? WHY?! I mean, I f-cking killed the guy like, forty times! And for that matter, why the f-ck is he still alive, time and time again?! Why?! Why?!”

Now that we’ve explained monster loot, let’s talk about why they will always be a higher level than you and why you should be very intimidated and horrified at that fact. You see, adventurers can’t possibly break out of the confined realm of “level 20” mastery. (The theorized “level” of power that takes “experience points” to gain.) This explanation may seem as though our entire lives revolve around some bizarre kind of game where everything is boiled down to floating numbers in the sky and statistics.

But that’s just silly.”

And back in the outskirts of Ascalon City...

6am.

Warren: Quest quest quest quest!

Van: Shuddap! Lemee get some sleep!

Warren: Come on! I want to do something for the good of our country!

Van loses his temper, grabs Warren’s quest journal, and writes down “Your activity for today is to kill a bunch of Skale. Now leave me alone for 50 gold and “magical experience points, oooo!”.” Warren reads the hastily scribbled note and nods.

Warren: You won’t be disappointed!

When Warren gets near the riverbed, he sees a demonstration involving a bunch of hippie rangers. They’re waving placards and launching flowers from their bows.

Ranger Activist 1: We need to save the Skale man; they’re the future of this ecosystem!

Ranger Activist 2: Yeah man, those Skale never hurt anybody, they just splash around in the water, it’s just not fair!

Ranger Activist 3: We gotta respect nature and its harmless creatures... stop all the pain now!

Warren looks at the Skale swimming in the river and then back at the ranger activists. He opens his quest log again. He hastily reads the quest in a very wrong way: “Kill a bunch of skale activists for today.”

YYAAARRRR!

Ranger Activist 1: Yeah man, lay down that hammer and come join us, let all your frustration just slid—ow man that hurts, omigod man, my head, ow! Oh dude, my nose, you broke my...

A few minutes later, at the Abbey.

Ranger Activist 4: Somebody help us man! There’s some crazy warrior dude killing everyone!

Ciglo: Time to cast Life Bond on myself again!

Valin: How does that help you?

Ciglo: Well, I cast it on myself so whenever I take damage, I take half of the damage instead, but since it’s cast on me instead of someone else, that damage is reflected to a nearby ally, giving them one hundred percent of the damage, which saves me from any damage at all.

Valin: ...Look, that’s not important. Right now, there’s a madman out there killing our citizens and we need to heal them before it’s too late! Now! Are you going to teach me or not?

Ciglo: Eh. I was going to go down to Ascalon City anyway. To throw bane signets at necromancers. They’re pretty much worthless, so they make good rocks. Want to do that instead?

Valin: Tempting, but we should help the innocent first.

Ciglo: Let me get a pack of smokes and then we’re off.

Next time on Flameseeker Parodies, less paragraphs, almost no reference to Skale, and more lines from main characters! But before you’re free to go, you really should take this quiz. Hand in your paper when the bell rings.

Pop Quiz Time:

Q. Why do monsters drop gold and other loot?

1. They plunder, pillage, and burn all they find.
2. They have fleshy pockets developed through evolution.
3. It was put there by the Five Gods of Tyria for sh-ts and giggles.

Q. Why do Bosses have a glowing aura?

1. They got really drunk and ate too many glow sticks during the last rave party.
2. They are advertising a possible elite skill.
3. They are green/orange/cyan/purple etc. with envy.

Q. What is the best way to describe an adventurer’s mastery of skills?

1. As they use their weapons and travel, they gain “experience” and enter new “levels” of training until they have learned all they can.
2. There’s a little bar up in the sky with our name on it and the voices inside our heads notify us when we get stronger.
3. I kill enemies, therefore I level up.

Q. What is the next pop culture to be referenced in this parody?

1. I hope it’s Mary Poppins.
2. Final Fantasy 7.
3. Guild Wars: Ear of the South.

Q. Why do bosses rarely drop green weapons?

1. They don’t like me.
2. Jesus doesn’t like me.
3. I still haven’t traded my soul to Satan for a tormented weapon.

Q. Why is that NPC never attacked by monsters?

1. He has sausages in his pockets.
2. He hasn’t showered in two years. Stench unbearable.
3. He’s right next to a resurrection shrine. What’s the point?

Q. What is the Death Penalty?

1. A constant reminder of your failure.
2. Something I don’t support.
3. A free ride to your starting location.

Q. Why are Soufflé Monsters dangerous?

1. They’re invisible.
2. They do 800 damage per hit.
3. I have no idea, but I hope I never come across one of those.

Correct answers, in order: 2, 3, 1, 3, 1, 2, 3, 3.

8 correct: The Grand Defender of The Wall
7 correct: Elite Charr Slayer
6 correct: Fort Ranik Lieutenant
5 correct: Vanguard Veteran
4 correct: Ascalon Soldier
3 correct: Town Guard
2 correct: Beaver
1 correct: Mesmer
0 correct: Dead mesmer

Post your rank and boast away!

Yoom Omer · May 27, 2007, 04:22 PM // 16:22

AMAZING

man you are good!

Knight of The Shadows · May 31, 2007, 02:41 PM // 14:41

lol. Keep them coming.

summer_goth · Jun 01, 2007, 09:05 AM // 09:05

Absolutely brilliant! You have a great talent for making one laugh.

Looking forward to the next chapter.

Brother Doug · Jun 01, 2007, 05:58 PM // 17:58

Hahaha!
Once again, that was really funny. I love the Metal Gear parody you've thrown in there.

Strider? STRIDER? STRIIIIDEEEEERRR!!!

Steboy93 · Jun 02, 2007, 04:35 PM // 16:35

Lmao i love your parodies man, keep them comin, i'm a big fan of metal gear so loved the solid strider section

Vanguard Veteran W000000T!

!

Yoom Omer · Jun 10, 2007, 07:45 PM // 19:45

Any chapter in the way?

Government Flu · Jun 11, 2007, 06:24 PM // 18:24

Thank you all for commenting on my latest chapter. I appreciate hearing from new and old fans alike! Sorry for the long delay. The next chapter is coming in a few minutes. Putting the finishing touches on it now.