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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 11, 2007 15:36:03 GMT -5
There can be an infinite amount of posts. It just would be VERY laggy and gltchy, and we would lose a lot of posts. Say around 250. That's more then enough. We would preobably lose some posts in that count as well (the more pages there are in a thread, then the more likely the thread will be very 'sick', and delet a lot of our posts).
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Post by me on Apr 11, 2007 16:00:00 GMT -5
ok.... then can desto the aena afte Deaths last post
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 11, 2007 16:03:10 GMT -5
Huh?.......
You meen we can close the arena after deaths last post?
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Post by me on Apr 11, 2007 16:35:22 GMT -5
No I just found out that several keyes werent working on the last keyboard I was using at school.... I mean can I destroy the arena after Deaths last post
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 11, 2007 17:30:07 GMT -5
How can you destroy it? You meen in an RP form?
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Post by me on Apr 11, 2007 19:59:40 GMT -5
Yes
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 11, 2007 21:13:56 GMT -5
Er...I think you'll have to take that up with death.
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Post by Uesugi on Apr 11, 2007 21:23:00 GMT -5
I think just ending it after Death's last post is all around a better idea... The Arena could then be re-opened later to showcase another day of fights, if there were interest in doing the collaboration again.
Where did you hear this?
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Post by me on Apr 11, 2007 21:35:30 GMT -5
Then we could skip ahead several years when the arena has been rebuilt...it would allow people to create new characters if they want, or even keep the old ones and just say they survived...
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Post by DEATH97 on Apr 12, 2007 4:45:09 GMT -5
Sorry (me) like Uesugi said, a possibility of a sequal or pre event or many other forms could still be a possability, but my last post in the last fight in the Arena will be the end of this current story arc. The tales of many of the warriors may go on, but this day within the arena ends with my last post. Just because the Gladiators story Arc will be over, doesn't mean you can't continue writing about it. It would just need to be in a differen't thread. More adventures can be done in Falluest. We know little of its past, and nothing of its future. Think of it as our own Fan Fiction from our joint creation.
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Raistlin
Beginner
I'm tired.
Posts: 2,451
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Post by Raistlin on Apr 12, 2007 14:30:09 GMT -5
Seems like the arena's about to end, so I'll put this in here real quick Faelyn stood up and began pacing around his cell. He knew that his turn at fighting was coming, and he started to get excited. His mind began to drift, and he thought back to how he had been came here. He had left the city of his people a long time ago and had been wandering throughout the countryside making a living by hunting and fishing for food. One day he came upon this city, and decided to have a look. He had never been to another city before, and did not know that there was so much fear of Drow. He had never even made it past the gates. One of the guards swung his sword and sliced open Faelyn's abdomen, which now bears a large scar. The other's jumped on him and pinned him, putting mancles on him. He was taken to jail under charges of "disturbing the peace", even though he had never even stepped inside the city gates. Of course, most disturbing the peace charges only lasted a night, not a lifetime. After a while, his charges changed to murder. Faelyn learned that it was the king who changed them. He never knew why. He had done nothing. Perhaps the king wanted to appear heroic or something. He was sentenced to be executed in public. The afternoon the gaurds came to take him, Faelyn decided that if he already had fake murder charges, a few real ones wouldn't hurt much. The first two gaurds in the cell door he made implode. The rest retreated, but came back in greater numbers. Faelyn was out of strength, for those were some of his most powerful spells. Bound and gagged, he was brought before the king. "You, Drow, have angered me. But you are powerful, and that is the only reason you will be allowed to live. You will fight in the arena until you die. Now GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Faelyn ran his hand through his stark-white hair. If there was one person in this world he wanted dead, it was the king. If it wasn't for that burning hatred, Faelyn would have killed himself long ago. He was not like his people before he came to the city, but hate changes people. Faelyn was now a killing machine. He enjoyed getting up in front of the booing crowd and showing those too-proud warriors what true power was. Faelyn's fighting style was unique. He wore no armor. No robe. Just pants and sandals, what he was given when he was in jail. He was not only skilled in magic, but skilled in martial arts as well. He loved seeing the stunned look on fighter's faces as he flipped above their axe swing or caught their spear in mid thrust with his hands and used it's momentum to tear it out of the fighter's hands. The jailor, Scrub, who he had made friends with, walked up to the door and unlocked it. "Come on, you twig," he said with a smile "time to fight. Looks like they got a tough one for ya. Big guy, got a hammer. Have fun."
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Post by Dagothkitty on Apr 12, 2007 17:36:54 GMT -5
I think just ending it after Death's last post is all around a better idea... The Arena could then be re-opened later to showcase another day of fights, if there were interest in doing the collaboration again. Where did you hear this? Proboards Support global moderator. If my memory serves, it would be Daniel
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Post by me on Apr 14, 2007 23:33:49 GMT -5
Hmm...if Raist isn't going to finish that can I just write something?
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Apr 26, 2007 16:09:30 GMT -5
I'm back. YAYS!!! Just thought I'd do my post before the Arena closed(or destroyed). Here goes:
In the lands of Lustaria there exists many religions. Some alike and some different. Some holy and some unholy. Out of all of them, Dygrus the Red Wolf followed the most known and feared. The Warriors of Ganesh, the god of all demons and cursed men. The god that not even mothers tell their children about for fear of monsters stealing them away. Ganesh's followers were always marked in a way. Whether it be a claw for a hand, a bulging purple eye, or immense fangs, all those who were seen with such afflictions were prosecuted and hung. The more aggressive cursed would be captured and sent to fight in the arena. That is where Dygrus had been sent. Condemned to in the arena to fight and eventually die like a pityful slave.
The Red Wolf's first night in the arena was one that brought fear to even the Emperor's cold, dark heart. Dygrus had been captured outside the city and was to be sentenced to death. That was before he broke free of the chains binding him and slaughtered over thirty guards with their own weapons. He had cut a bloody swathe through them and left the street stained with gore. It was a hellish mess to clean up and took days to do so. After escaping, Dygrus had found the arena and decided to enter. Someone had tipped the guards off about his whereabouts and they came in greater numbers with the help of some mages. But instead of killing Dygrus on sight, the guards sentenced him to forever fight in the arena.
Choosing the right to spill blood for money over rotting in a cell, Dygrus accepted his fate and was given armor and weapons. He was still free, but couldn't show his face outside of the arena without the guards coming after him. At night he would sneak out and kill for the blessing of his god before a fight. The first night of his stay at the Arena was violent and filled with rage. A slave that had a few too many drinks had started running his mouth about the Dygrus. His buddies joined in too and ridiculed the new warrior. Dygrus took up his new ax and warhammer and killed every single slave in the rooms below the arena without mercy. He fought like an animal and decided to name himself one.
When guards came the next morning to bring food to combatants they saw Dygrus sitting in the middle of the gore covered center room drenched in human gnawing on the remains of slaves. The guards demanded to know who he was and he answered with a simple sentence;
"I am Dygrus the Red Wolf."
How many years has it been since that one horrid day? Five? Ten? Dygrus didn't care to remember. He only remembered the night his life changed and all those he killed after. Slaves, gladiators, animals, none mattered to the Red Wolf. His axe and hammer saw no difference between those he was to fight. All he cared about was claiming his opponents' heads and appeasing his demonic god.
Night had fallen and still he was stuck under the arena with other combatants. He saw many leave through the guarded gates and few return. Today was a good day. Many people had come to the arena to watch the fights. Even the Emperor was there, sitting on his golden thrown with his servants pampering him. Dygrus would give anything to have the chance to tear his head off. Unfortunately that would never happen because of the magical barrier that protected the audience and there emperor.
"Dygrus! Time for your match!" yelled a guard from across the room. The warrior turned around to answer, but saw the guard walking up the stairs to open the gate. Eager for battle and the taste of blood, the Red Wolf hurriedly walked to the stairs and climbed up them to the gate which lead to his opponent or opponents.
His eyes turned red and his pupils dilated as the thirst for blood and the animalistic rage spread through his body. His muscles tensed beneath his black and red plate armor. He placed his horned helmet carved to mimick the face of Ganest over his head and gazed through the visor. Dygrus the Red Wolf was a truly terrifying sight to behold. Standing above mortal men with broad shouders, an ax in one hand, and a warhammer in the other.
Dygrus could smell blood on the wind and yearned to spill some. The gates lifted and he marched out to the center of the arena. The sun had fallen and a full moon now floated in the sky. Pale, yellow lanterns hung from the sides of the arena and some pillars, casting all sorts of shadows to move across the bloodied sand as the wind blew.
The mighty warrior looked around him and saw many corpses. He spotted a giant demonic being with no head lying on the other side of the arena. A corpse swayed in the breeze over his head. A spear protruded from its chest, nailing it to the pillar.
The gates ahead of him began to raise. Dygrus dropped into his battle stance and prepared himself with a prayer to his god.
"Ganesh, King of all Demons and Cursed. Guide my ax and hammer tonight so that I may add more blood to your cauldron. Tonight more heads shall adore your trophy wall and another faithful servant shall grow even stronger."
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Post by me on Apr 26, 2007 16:28:40 GMT -5
Ooh, this is nice and graphic! Great to have you finally update!
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