Humor

When we left our intrepid band, Scottie and Bear were about to rip each other to shreds. Scottie was still a little hurt because Bear, having killed him, forced him to live a life of undeath. Bear was angry that Scottie and Car had stranded him on Boardwalk, which had suddenly sprung a Casino Hotel. From its throne in the mysterious Game Closet, the Scrabble board heard the tumult and descended to the Prime Playing Plane to mediate between the two and urge them to get back to buying and selling real estate, like proper Monopoly playing pieces. ...

We here at West Karana Games Inc. have been blown away by the positive response to our new Chess MMO. Taking a game from tabletop to the MMO arena is a challenge and an opportunity, and I am so pleased that our teams of artists and designers rose to both. Big news first: You might remember in beta that we were forced to cut the Bishop and the Rook jobs from the game as playtesting proved neither were as popular with the testers as we would have liked. We are happy to announce that both the Bishop AND the Rook are back in the game – initially, only Black will have Bishops and White will have Rooks while we take careful note of balance issues. We expect both sides to have the chance to play both jobs in an upcoming game update. ...

Stout Henry pulled the blade of the staff from Farmer Jonas’ chest. The crowd of Cotsberry competitors, families and fans from the small farming town were silent, but for some weeping. “Did ya SEE THAT?” yelled Stout Henry. “Circle Strafe Left, Disarming Block, Crushing Blow and Swift Impale, 1 2 3 4 and it was OVAH!” He looked around at the crowd of silent people. “Well, come on,” said Henry. “I won! I mean, aren’t you glad you found out what a noob he was before he got in the Tournament? No way you’d win. Weak link and all. So, I’m in, right? Because we’re going to have to change things up around here.” ...

Ferd’s guards, sent to apprehend Stout Henry and bring him back to face his sentence – death – had decided instead to have him face the penalty meted out by the mysterious that… THING that lived in Owlshead Forest. Which was, to enter the Tournament that had filled all the inns of Nodding Fields with contestants and the crowds who had come from all over the Southlands to take part in the many battle royales that would give bragging rights to the villages and towns who’d sent their best to compete. ...

In honor of my friends and fellow bloggers either taking part in the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) or just writing for the pleasure of it, here is a special NaNoWriMo-sized entry. I now have even more appreciation for what those writers are going through :) 29 more like this one? Maybe next year! Nodding Fields was not the sort of place known for its nightlife. It wasn’t all that exciting during the day, either. If it hadn’t been Tournament week, even the most tenacious barfly would have stumbled his or her way back home before dark. ...

“My name’s not Ognob,” said Ognob, for the third time in as many minutes. “It’s Daryl. And this is NOT the way back to my laboratory.” “Of course it is, Ognob,” said Stout Henry, who paused a second to stare blankly at the darkening sky. “Of course it is…” “Of course it is… WHAT? My name, or the way back to the lab?” Ognob Daryl was flustered and clearly wanted to turn back, but the tall man with the weird expression and the tattered cloak on which someone had embroidered – badly – a wolf howling at the moon – wasn’t listening. ...

“This man,” shouted the Magistrate, “who has come before us, an inhuman wretch, devoid of pity; void and empty; stands before you exposed. Let they who have issue with him come forth, and tell to us his crimes.” “Crimes?” grinned Stout Henry, his quilted jerkin somewhat soiled, the tattered cape with an embroidered wolf on the back, its muzzle raised to howl at the moon, much the worse for wear. “The only crime here is how little you offered for those good, solid candlesticks that look JUST LIKE GOLD. I could get twice as much in Greenswold, you know.” ...

Being a generally peaceful land, few people ever saw the inside of Cotsberry Prison, and those that did were often the sons of nobles who were left to sleep off their drunken carouses out of the sight of commoners. As such, the cells were clean and dry, the cot mattresses stuffed with soft feathers and the ticking, tick-free. The cell’s unusual comforts were lost on Stout Henry. Stout Henry was spending his time trying to force himself into the cell’s corners and between the narrow-set bars on the tiny slit in the wall that let in air and light, hoping to pop through. It wasn’t going well. ...

I admit it, life before Warhammer Online: Age of Reckoning was fairly bland and meaningless. My life before I became consumed by WHOOOOAAAAA was just a shadow – a shadow OF a shadow, really. Before Public Quests, how could I really do a quest? Before the Tome of Knowledge, how would I know what to do? Before Open Groups, how would I ever find a group? MMOs before WAR were mostly people just standing around, without direction, without anything to do. ...

There’s just so much to say about Warhammer Online: Age of Reckoning that people don’t even talk about. I’m don’t mean innovations like Public Quests or the Tome of Knowledge or Open Groups or stuff like that, but stuff that really makes you sit down and go, “damn, why hasn’t any other game ever done this?” It’s that “I coulda had a V-8” forehead slap moment. I’d have liked to have been in that meeting where some nebbiish dev looked up from his books and said, in a quavering voice that would change the direction of the game forever, “why don’t we have DWARFS in our game?”. ...