Dork Prophecies - fan friction

**a player** · 03-20-2013, 12:03 AM

?

WTF?

Why not go all the way:

Summerseve Massengill

**a player** · 04-11-2013, 03:03 AM

Father Jerkoff O'Smellbone studied the ebb and flow of war from his hilltop observation post. The judicious application of energy could turn the tide of the battle. If only the correct target could be identified, the proper infirmity nullified.

Time was, the aiming of spells was rather slow and cumbersome, but they nearly always found their mark. This was before The Change.

On the battlefield, Amber

and her allied troops were in fevered combat against Elementalis

. One Spork anihilated a Kristapharian Wildling in a searing flash of energy. One Spork was bad enough, but elsewhere they were swarming like hornets, their stings yielding compound interest the Church's moneylenders could only dream of.

Oh, the humanity! Four Sporks making a beeline up the hill. Trembling, Jerkoff tossed himself on his Divan of War. He had witnessed what two or three Sporks could do to even a seasoned Buttcrackian Veteran. When the Bloodlust

was upon them, they were practically unstoppable.

What in Watersport was he to do? There was neither attachment nor negative effect anywhere within his reach.

Art the Squire hastily swung his mace -- straight to what amounted to a Spork's face. The remaining three Sporks jetted onward, diminishing slightly as their cohort winked out.

"I piss on you!" came the voice from horseback. The Sporks buzzed angrily. The delay was Gods-sent. Jerkoff knew not the knight who defended him, but he now had a target within range for Healing. Four Sporks on one Knight! Three drilling into Jerkoff's flesh, burning like hot wax.

Must... ...Heal... ...the... ...Knight... ...first....