Journal of my Sorrows (in General)

Day 32:

It's been 32 days since I began my quest for the elusive "drop". My armor are strong, my spells are strong, my will is stronger. But every day I grow more and more weary.

Doubts plague me. Does it even exist? Were the legends wrong? Am I being made a fool by the whispered fireside stories of drunkards and has-beens?

Still, deep within me burns a hope. Fools errand it may be, but I will persist! I will battle all foes, each day, I will fulfill my allotted destiny and more! as much as the gods allow!

Let this journal serve as my reminder.

It is day 32, and though I have no drops, I fight on.

After eighteen thousand attempts to please the powers that be, Mandos looked kindly upon me and granted me the gift of Spellboosters.

If you have fought with the same fierceness and intense zest -- but are still without -- then maybe you have been fighting for a false CB god. Mandos is the true overseer of all CB-land. Ulmo is merely a fraud who hands out lesser tattoos and dull katanas for petty attention. Shun Ulmo and seek the great Mandos; then shall you be rewarded.

My money is on Tulkas.

(Do we have a list of the "gods" yet? Ulmo, Tulkas, Mandos...who else?)

Stardate -313490.45,

Still no signs of desperately needed relief rations from the Federation. Morale among the crew is dwindling. Hope, fading. Klingons draw ever closer to our remote outpost, I fear by morning, we will all be dead.

Gods of fighting.
Ulmo
Mandos
Tulkas
Varda

We need a Wiki Page for the CB Gods... <.<

12000 fights later, I got a katana, the gods are not smiling on me.

They're just the Valar (i.e., in the Silmarillion).

^


L2 Lord of the Rings, guise.

Day 33:

I awoke this morning surrounded by 160 armed bandits. I vanquished them all and searched their belongings, still no sign of the mythical "drop".

I traveled on, deeper into the desert, fighting off enemies 9 at a time. I thought I had a glimpse of the drop once, but it turned out to be a Bedouin trader, seeking the return of some items I had borrowed.

To bed now, a sleep weighted down with dreams of the drop. For hope, for glory, for the chance to fight another day. Come quickly, sweet drop, come quickly.

Day 34:

Still no sign of drops. By my mighty right arm, I have fought back the hordes yet again. For some reason the battles this morning seemed to show me new things in new ways; I gained a wealth of experience from each blow and counter-blow. Perhaps it was just a fluke, but I seemed to grow even stronger that usual today.

All of that strength compels me onward, until my task is complete. This desert is vast, but I, too, am vast. I will endure.

It is day 34, and though my strength waxes, it is unrewarded. No drops.

Day 35:

I am lost. I wandered into a small mining town today. I borrowed money against my good name, and found a local blacksmith to help repair my boots. They seem to work even better than before.

On the road again, fighting my quota of battles. They seem to come more slowly now, only 8 at a time, but the foes are more difficult to defeat. Still, I feel I am no closer to my first drop.

Where am I going? I don't even know where I've been! Where, o gods in heaven, where is the drop?

hey! i farm you!
I like your journal
not enough to stop killing you, though :S


Day 2:
It's been 24 hours since I spotted the lone mage and his familiar. Though I fear his youthful nature will soon transcend my wizened skills, I spend each day tracking his movements and raiding him while he is preoccupied with other enemies. As he cuts a fiery swath through his enemy's ranks I hail arrows upon his back. Sometimes i am troubled by my trickery, but the rewards outweighs my guilt.


I am referencing the times where I have been fighting at the same time as you and have killed you as your health refreshed between your fights.