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Author Topic: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy  (Read 505791 times)

TD1

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2145 on: September 17, 2017, 06:28:23 pm »

Well, I've run out of time.

Here's the save. Will post ending soon.

http://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=13093
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highmax28

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2146 on: September 19, 2017, 10:16:48 pm »

Got the save. Wasn't expecting to take my turn so soon. I'll post some pre-turn stuff to let DwArfY get his last couple posts up.

Looking at the save and already I see I have a lot of work to do. Reforming the army, getting rid of these caged animals and prisoners, war training/butchering some animals, and if I'm seeing this right, getting people properly clothed...



11th of Timber, 555, during the time of Overseer Arx

Dastot sat amidst the dim torchlight of Necrothreat as he emptied his mug of wine. His eyes were weary looking over the many codexes, scrolls and unbound quires scattered before him on the cold table. None of it seemed to make sense; many stories, histories and even the wives tales told that the heroes would be here, but only but a fraction of their influence was. Dastot stood up and roared in drunken fury as he swung his thin arms across the table, papers, ink quills and the like taking flight and scattering them all across the room. Scholars looked him with a disgruntled look. They spoke of him since he got here; how he rambled on about how the histories were wrong, how not all the heroes were here. Apiks was ‘here’ but not. Th4DwArfY1 was felt here, but never strong enough to warrant his full return. But Highmax the Guardian, was still missing.

Dastot scanned the room at the dozens of eyes staring him down, each pair backing down as he turned towards them. Their silent sophistication conditioned them to ignore young upstarts like him, and focus more on their studies and writings. Arx walked in and gave the young forumite a pat on the back before grabbing some of the notes. “You’re trying. I see that. But I know that they’re all here. I can feel it. I don’t know why he lies dormant, but Highmax will come. The ritualists tell me they’re on a breakthrough. Why don’t you help the other scholars find him?” Dastot shook his head solemnly as he began to pick up the mess he made. “The stories don’t make any sense. If they’re all here, overseer, then why hasn’t he come to aid us? I have one story telling me he took to the afterlife after defeating Ur, one saying he wanders the world still as a nameless one-eyed forumite, and one even says he turned on us to join the armies of Armok. All of them are conflicting!”

Arx shook his head. “I know he’s here. You just have to-“ Dastot turned and grabbed the overseer. “I believed but no matter how hard we try, he either refuses to help us or he isn’t here. The Highmax we all know wouldn’t abandon us, so why isn’t he here? I may be a bit drunk, but I am no fool! I see it, so why can’t you?” Dastot’s eyes began to water as he let go of Arx who looked more sympathetic to the struggling loremaster. Dastot began to throw his notes together into his leather backpack. “I will be taking my leave overseer. If you can’t believe me, then I won't waste your time.” Arx nodded. “That is a shame. You’re one of few who put effort into searching for him. It seems many have forgotten about the Guardian, but you haven’t. I wish you best of luck, Dastot.”



Dastot refilled his waterskin and took a bite of a plump helmet roast as he prepared to leave. “I know they don’t believe you, but you are right.” Dastot dropped his waterskin as he yelped in terror from being startled which turned into a laugh of mockery. “What do you mea-“ Dastot turned around to be met with a human in a darkened cloak. Dastot saw his life flash before his eyes halfway through his laugh, realizing those were probably his last words. “Do not be alarmed. I am no necromancer if that is what you thought. I too am a loremaster, and I wish to impart something onto you before you leave.”

The human procured a bundle of parchment and a book from under his cloak. The notes looked worn and the book's bindings were clearly made out of the flayed skin of some poor soul. “This isn’t a necromancer’s tome, but it is one of their books of tales and stories. I spent years studying it, and if what I read is true, then I believe Highmax is imprisoned. Everything I read and interpreted is in these notes. Deep in the lands of the undead, there seems to be a tomb that no undead or necromancer dare to go. I tried to make my way there, but…” The human shrugged his cloak off his shoulder and showed his right arm was missing.

Dastot stood speechless and stunned as the human put the tome and notes into his hands. “The notes tell of a story of the one who slew Ur. It also tells how they seemed to have dealt with him by holding his body and soul to this place. If you truly want Highmax to be freed, then you will seek him out in the place where the living dare not dwell.” The human turned and walked away into the dim halls of Necrothreat. Dastot stood there and stared at what was given to him.

Dastot snapped back to and stowed away the book and notes into his bag. He was leaving, but there was a change in plans now. He needed mercenaries of the hardest breed, and ones willing to chase a story that may very well be false. Packed up fully now, Dastot finished his roast and stepped out into the sun, the harsh light burning his eyes. This was going to be a long trek into Hell...
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just shot him with a balistic arrow, i think he will get stuned from that >.>

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Jee wilikers, I think Highmax is near invulnerable, must have been dunked in the river styx like achilles was.
Just make sure he wears a boot.

Glass

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2147 on: September 19, 2017, 10:36:30 pm »

:D
This is gonna be good, I can tell.
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Enemy post

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2148 on: September 19, 2017, 11:34:41 pm »

Great turn, Dwarfy.
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Carefulrogue

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2149 on: September 19, 2017, 11:43:00 pm »

I've been looking forward to your turn Highmax.  I'm liking what we have at present.  And I viciously want to know what comes next.
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TD1

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2150 on: September 20, 2017, 09:58:41 am »

Deep within the bowels of the fortress, I confront my son. Lord Lemonpie sits at his desk, muttering about the gods, about actions foul and good. His mind, I reflect with sadness, seems to have been shaken by recent events. Nevertheless, I have an urgent request for him; Save us from fire!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Lord Lemonpie gapes at the reports, and looks at me with fear. “The gods don’t listen to me,” he moaned. “Afer helped last time, but without the frog, my frog, I am nothing…” I listen, and hear the desperation beneath his tone. We need him. The fortress is made of wood, by all that’s holy. Without the gods, this fire will surely consume us all and spit us out, so many corpses for the army of Ur. The Mountainhomes will never stand with its last bastion fallen.

And so I do what needs to be done. It hurts me to do this, but I know the flesh I wear. The face I give to the world. It is an old one, grey haired and creased with cares. It is the face of this man’s mother.

And so I slap him across the face, feel the sting of impact rising along my palm. “You will do it, son. You will pray to the gods, and you will see to it that our fortress survives this hell!” Lord Lemonpie only gapes once more, a red imprint rising on his cheek. Anger rises, then shame. His head falls. A mother’s word is law.

“Yes, ma.”

I turn from him as he begins to beseech the gods, closing my eyes. What have I become, that I would impersonate a man’s mother? And the hard answer comes back, hard but true; you are their  protector, and sometimes a protector needs to fight dirty. Still, it hurts.

From behind, Lemonpie begins to moan, and I turn around. He lies on the ground, face vacant, drooling. I feel a spike of fear, then feel…a presence. I remember a hand of flame, a face of fear. Magma and hate and blood. Armok. I can feel his presence, thick on the air. Lemonpie gibbers, and I know that this time, Armok has not come for me. His attention is on the Highpriest, and all his hate is collected.

Lemonpie screams.

I step forward, thinking to stop this rite, to protect, as is my job… but then Lemonpie’s jaw clenches, and he rises to his knees, fury painted on his face. “Begone! Let thy fury dispel, creature of the void! By the rainbow and the cleanliness of water, I forbid thee entrance here! Leave!” A chuckle, then, faintly heard, as pebbles grinding together. But the presence…lessens. Lemonpie stands, face calm, eyes closed.

“Begone,” he whispers.

And suddenly, I hear the voice of Armok, growing smaller. But still there. “DO NOT FEAR, HIGH PRIEST. I WILL LEAVE. BUT I AM STILL WITH YOU, ALWAYS. AND THIS DEFIANCE WILL COME WITH A PRICE. ONE PAID IN BLOOD.” And then nothing, but the sound of the High Priest falling to the ground, eyes closed, and the sound of shouts from above. “Afer has saved us!” They cried. “The fire is repelled from our walls!” Looking at the unconscious Forumite, I know the truth. Afer did save us, perhaps. But it was the courage of this one I had thought broken that did it. Long live Lemonpie, hero of the people.

21st Limestone

Some days passed happily enough. The trade caravan brought goods and luxuries from home, and even Apiks seems to have felt the festive spirit in the fortress. I recall my plans, now. To get the Mason Queen back on her throne, to oust Apiks from a state of power. My ranged unit is still weak, only a few Forumites. I do not know if it is possible. But I have more time than I had thought to deal with him.
Outside, all is grey and barren. Bare trees stretch clawing fingers towards the sky, and somehow, I recognise it. A moment of vertigo, a view of lakes of lava spreading and fires burning beneath a blackened sky accompanied by a fierce, boundless joy. Then I am back on Necrothreat’s battlements, looking over the greyness.

Should I feel joy, to see it so barren? Another feeling of vertigo, and I know the answer. It is not. The green is pushed back, and though I once hated it, I now know it for what it is. Life, a life now reigned in by the pursuing flames of Armok. Necrothreat is besieged by powers it does not understand, and this fire is only the start.

23rd Limestone

A dark hallway, barren and unseen. The highpriest, alone, wanders aimlessly, trying to gather his thoughts. His sacred temple is bloodied, and the name of Apiks carven upon his floor. Afer listened to him once, true, but Armok feeds on his thoughts as well.

What will they remember him for? Will they remember truth, after he dies, that there was a Forumite who spoke with gods, and who loved them for their divinity? Or will they speak of the back breaker, a Forumite wielding hammer in the name of a dark, elder god.

How will they remember him? Such are his thoughts, as he walks, silent, through the forgotten sections of this fortress. The frog is absent. His cathedral broken. His mind besieged.

He stops, staring at a portal in the stone. Inside is a library, hidden and concealed. He shakes his head, despondent, and walks on. He does not care any more. Even the music pounding through the walls, the music that others don’t seem to hear, does not interest him. His thoughts are on posterity, and are dark.

In front, a figure appears. On its head is a crown of wood. He stops, staring. Apiks. He has come for the High Priest. The blood price for his challenge to Armok must be paid.

Then the figure comes closer, and he sees the subtle curves of a feminine figure. A wise face, old in wisdom if not years, and hands thickened by work with the file and the chisel. The Queen of Masons stands before him, dimly lit, a crown blazing on her head. Her eyes are vacant, empty of thought, but he can see something coiled deep within. Armok.

“The price must be paid” the woman mutters, and her fist comes forward. All goes dark, but for the pain.

By Omer and Idrath, the pain.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

29th Limestone

Th4DwArfY1 gapes at the damage done to the noble Forumite, sees the lacerations and the broken spine. This is the price, paid in full. The price of Lemonpie’s legs. The nurse, the kind Queen of Masons, informs him that Lemonpie will never walk again. She frowns with sadness at the unconscious priest, then moves away. She had been tending to him night and day, always careful of his pains.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

And Th4DwArfY1… he stands vigil over the bed. It is expected of him, as the supposed mother of a child. And what’s more, he feels it to be his duty to the holy man. One of the few in this fortress whose mind was bent on the improvement of the fortress.

Eventually, a messenger comes to summon him away. He leaves Lemonpie with reluctance, but rests assured that the man is in good hands. The Queen of Masons comes forward to tend to him as soon as I leave, an angel of mercy. Some way must be found to place her on the throne… but not yet.

The messenger brings him to where a stream of Forumites is appearing on the horizon, trudging through ash and grime.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

We now have a total of 91 Forumites, a healthy community. There is still rot here, though. Th4DwArfY1 stands with hand raised to ward off the unwelcome glare of the sun, and watches the tide of Forumites appear. He had been depressed for many years before taking this command, after Sprin had taken his mind. Now, he was not depressed. He was sad, true, but not for himself; for this great fortress.

And the Forumites trudge through the gates, and over the bodies laid there. They look down in curiosity as their feet trample over the bodies of our enemies. This is the life they will know.

Th4DwArfY1 turns to leave, knowing the struggle must go on. But as he does, he sees something else. Lemonpie, moving through the stream entering the fort. His legs don’t work, but he pulls himself along through filth and dirt, determination on his face. Wonder warms the tired Forumite’s heart at this act of resilience.

And then Lemonpie is with him, carefully arranging his useless feet beneath him into a sitting position. The sun’s glare does not seem to bother him; he bathes in its warmth. Then he speaks.
“The gods have spoken to me, in my dreams. The rainbow has risen in my mind. You can not continue to rule. If you do, great ruin will come. Apiks will gather his forces, and you will die. The fortress will be overturned in blood.” Th4DwArfY1 frowns, but the Highpriest continues. “Step down, play the long game. There will come one…with sword bared…who will make the highest tremble.  This the gods have told me. It takes much to rise to power in order to protect the people. It takes more to relinquish that power, for the same reason.”

I hesitate, thinking of my plans, the toppling of Apiks the Cruel. And then I see the sincerity in Lemonpie’s eyes, and something occurs to me. I trust this Forumite, I, Th4DwArfY1, who has never trusted any but himself. Himself, and what the memories of Sprin show him of a different self, friend to Apiks and NAV.

Knowing this, I relent, and bow my head. And the sun sinks below the horizon, bringing night. A night that would be banished by a new dawning, great and terrible.

----

Welcome back, Highmax! It's good to see one of the Necrothreat old guard coming back.
« Last Edit: September 20, 2017, 10:06:58 am by Th4DwArfY1 »
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apiks

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2151 on: September 20, 2017, 10:09:15 am »

Quote
“Yes, ma.”

I laughed.
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pikachu17

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2152 on: September 20, 2017, 10:22:12 am »

Uh, did the Queen of Masons both harm, and heal Lemonpie?
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TalonisWolf

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2153 on: September 20, 2017, 10:45:40 am »

Uh, did the Queen of Masons both harm, and heal Lemonpie?

The Queen of Masons giveth, and she taketh away.
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highmax28

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2154 on: September 20, 2017, 01:41:42 pm »

Its good to be back. I'd say great turn, but you dropped me off in the middle of... "Something" >:(

Dealing with administration stuff before I let it run and actually get this fort rolling. In the meantime...



11th of Timber, 561

It's been six long years since he left Necrothreat, but somehow, someway, he's approaching his goal. Researching ancient maps, studying tales of survivors who scoured the lands of the undead, and even reading lore books taken from necromancer towers, Dastot was certain now where Highmax was. Getting the mercenaries to help him was easier than he thought; convince the leader and they'll all come. It's even easier when the leader is a forumite who is ready to believe that he will help in bringing the Guardian back. No, the hard part was watching his back when the fighting ensued. These mercenaries weren't happy that their leader is chasing a rumor, and a poor one at that. Didn't this idiot scholar know that Highmax was still dormant at Necrothreat? Dastot had everything he needed, and now that he's finally deep into the lands of the undead, it was only a matter of time before they made it.

But in a land bloodstained and barren, where the undead grow thickest, was it worth it? Dastot looked at his maps as the wagon continued its course. "How much longer, Scholar?" It was rare to hear such distaste towards the title of a scholar, but not to Dastot. "We should reach it before sunrise tomorrow if we keep up this pace." The disgruntled mercenary chuckled. "If you think we're not going to stop and make camp first, you're about as insane as they say you are. Our animals are tired, and so are we. We've been traveling for seven days and we haven't seen anything but more and more undead." A voice came from in front of the wagon "If the scholar says we'll make it before sunrise, we'll be there before sunrise. We'll stop for no more than an hour or two to give the animals a rest. Do I make myself clear?" The sellsword sighed before glaring at Dastot. "Yes commander Olin..."



The sounds of napping mercenaries was all around him, but Dastot did not sleep. He hasn't slept since they entered these lands. It was too dangerous to let your guard down here. He reviewed his notes over and over, and he was certain they would reach it soon enough. He looked up at the sky and saw the clouded sky. No moon would shine in these lands as long as Ur was alive. The forumite stretched out and yawned before he spotted movement. He turned to the mercenary who took watch but saw he took the opportunity to pass out. Dastot wasn't a fighter; he was skinny, almost malnourished with how little he has been eating these recent years, and he couldn't tell recently if a spot on his map was his eyes giving away to exhaustion for a bit or if he damaged it. But this he could tell was no mind trick. There was undead coming this way. The scholar stood and shouted "The dead come!" Olin was the first up and drew his sword, turning his eyes towards the horizon. A mercenary let out a cry of terror as a cloud of dust began to form as he shouted "Run while you still can!"

Within seconds, the mercenaries got everything onto the wagons and started to move. The animals brayed from overexertion as they were forced to a gallop. The cloud seemed to get closer and closer, faster and faster. The mercenaries seemed to have broke from the stress as they muttered "It must be a High Lord..." or "Oh gods, I don't want to be undead..." Dastot crawled up to the front of the wagon and his eyes widened as a faint smile rose across his face. "There! Take the wagons there! That's the tomb!" Olin barked out an order that Dastot couldn't understand over the chaos and morale seemed to grow with every second as the small speck became a full building. A black hovel with a poorly drawn sword painted with blue grew closer to them, but so did the cloud.

The scholar leaped off the wagon as the mercenaries scrambled out of the wagons and prepared for what came. Dastot ran towards the gate with Olin as they worked to break open the lock. "Hammer!" Olin shouted. A mercenary threw a spare warhammer. With one quick motion, Olin caught the hammer by the handle, circled the hammer in his arms and brought the full momentum down on the lock, lodging it into the ground beneath the door. The loremaster knew that he had to act fast; Highmax could deal with whatever that cloud was no problem. They ran into the darkened depths as screams and a low bellowing was heard behind them. They had no time to look behind them and pressed on.

The inside was darker than night thanks to the same stone being here that the necromancers used for their towers. Dastot pulled out a torch and fumbled in his bag for his tinderbox before Olin struck it with a simple flint and steel. There was another door before them, again, marked with the poorly drawn sword. Olin ran to the door and forced the full weight of his body onto it as it flung open. Before them was a bone sarcophagus. "This is it!" Dastot pulled a crowbar from his bag and ran towards the coffin. Groans were heard loud and clear as undead crawled out of small alcoves in the walls. "Get it open Dastot!" Olin shouted as he cleaved a thread zombie's head in two. Dastot thrusted his crowbar into the small crack where the two parts of the sarcophagus met and pushed down with all of his might. It didn't budge. "Olin? I need a hand here!" The sound of a loud thud was heard behind him as Olin tossed the hammer. Olin swung his blade as more undead came from the small holes in the walls. They really didn't want Highmax to return.

Dastot grabbed the silver hammer and tried to bring it up above his head. His arms were shaky and sweat poured from every part of his body as he struggled to raise the hammer. The very earth began to shake for some unknown reason, and Dastot found himself almost falling over as he brought the hammer above him. The sound of metal crunching was also heard as he heard Olin shout in pain. The undead got to him, and it was only a matter of time before he was dead too. Dastot shouted brought down the hammer. The sarcophagus let out a thick stream of brownish-red liquid but it barely seemed to move. In a rush of adrenaline, Dastot shouted again and brought the hammer down a second time. The fluid spread all across the floor. It was blood mixed with something else. The scent of metal filled the room, making Dastot think it to be rust or entrails but he had no time to tell. A third strike and the lid bounced off and Dastot fell foward. The foul liquid was all over him now, and he could smell blood in it. Dastot covered his eyes as he saw Olin's lifeless body on the ground and the dead closing in on him. The smell of decay was thick in the air now that the coffin was open. "No..." Dastot knew it was over. Highmax had become this pool of blood and gore.

Dastot blanked out for a moment as his life flashed before his eyes again. His argument with Arx, that man with one arm, the book and notes... It was all a lie. Highmax was dead, and he brought thirty one to their deaths. And he was about to become thirty two. Dastot couldn't scream, he couldn't move and he could only cover his face. He was wrong and now was going to die for it.

Dastot then heard the sound of bone shattering before hearing the sound of something popping. He didn't feel anything, but he knew they were killing him now. Was it his leg? His chest? The next sound he heard was the sound of liquid sloshing about and hearing bone shatter. His blood must now be mixed with the gore that was once Highmax, and his bones were now being added to the many found in this land of death. But what Dastot didn't expect to hear was the sound of metal shredding bone and flesh. Did the mercenaries defeat what was outside? They were too late. If the undead didn't kill him, he was to die slowly and painfully by the hands of angered men and women.



"Get up." What? "I know you're still alive, so get up." Dastot regained feeling in his body. His body went into shock but he's alright. He opened his eyes and saw a bloodstained pair of feet before him. "Come on now. You can nap later." He felt an arm grab him as he could only see quick split second images of what he saw. A headless undead with his head shattered across the open sarcophagus. Several bodies mangled from both blade and fist. And then the biggest undead he had ever seen as he was carried outside as he was face to face with a giant undead sperm whale. He felt his body hit the ground and saw over four men splattered and crushed beyond recognition and about a dozen trapped within the teeth of the giant whale. Then he saw an outline of a forumite as he began to lose consciousness.



"You're not helping by laying down there." Dastot opened his eyes and saw a forumite before him, covered head to toe in blood and gore. "If you still have some strength in you, I need you to lead me out of this place. I have business to take care of, and I can't do that here." Dastot grunted in pain as he rolled over. The forumite extended his arm and pulled Dastot to his feet. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm taking some clothes and armor from the dead. They won't be needing it. Get the wagon ready. We leave as soon as possible. It isn't safe here." Dastot got his bearings and surveyed the scene. The giant whale lie dead again next to him as it seemed its skull now laid apart from its body and mangled till almost nothing was left. The bodies of the mercenaries were all over, but here this one forumite stood, with Olin's old blade in hand.

"Who... Who are you?" Dastot said in dazed confusion.

The forumite wiped his face with a torn cloak and turned towards Dastot, his hardened face revealing the wisdom of hundreds of battles. Dastot's eyes widened as he saw the forumite was missing an eye.

"Call me Highmax."
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just shot him with a balistic arrow, i think he will get stuned from that >.>

"Guardian" and Sigfriend Of Necrothreat
Jee wilikers, I think Highmax is near invulnerable, must have been dunked in the river styx like achilles was.
Just make sure he wears a boot.

Glass

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2155 on: September 20, 2017, 02:34:11 pm »

:D
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I'm gonna say we go with whatever Glass's idea is.

pikachu17

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2156 on: September 20, 2017, 03:18:43 pm »

Sorry if this is wrecking the awesomeness, but do not all the mercenaries have dark vision? Why are a bunch of Forumites lighting a torch?
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TD1

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2157 on: September 20, 2017, 04:02:52 pm »

A masterful post. *Salutes*.

Its good to be back. I'd say great turn, but you dropped me off in the middle of... "Something" >:(
I have no idea what you mean.
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apiks

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2158 on: September 20, 2017, 04:14:42 pm »

Hmm? What? He's back you say? Who's back? Oh shit, really? The OG Guardian of Necrothreat is back!
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pikachu17

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Re: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy
« Reply #2159 on: September 20, 2017, 04:31:11 pm »

Hmm? What? He's back you say? Who's back? Oh shit, really? The OG Guardian of Necrothreat is back!
I think in-story Apiks is about to have his butt kicked.
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