what wonders await? we hope no disaster.
let's hope it's a joy, though past efforts loom,
what will break this time? to seal our doom.
we hope it's a win, we pray that it works,
but spectres of fate, in the shadows they lurk.
we moan at GGE, almost every day,
yet still we return, and continue to play.
this is our game, we log in each day,
attackers, defenders, builders, all our own way.
ask 1000 players, the best methods of play,
get 1000 answers, all different ways.
so click on your mouse, the pad on your laptop,
the update is coming, it's not going to stop.
like saint nicholas' list, of who's naughty or nice,
let's hope GGE are checking it twice.
my dad had a saying, he wasn't so good with a rhyme,
"the best time to get it right, is the first time"
so bring on this update, we'll prod and we'll poke,
don't worry your heads, we'll tell you what broke.
The Night Before Christmas More GGE.
I woke upon my bed at dawnready to welcome the early morn'
or so I thought for I could swear
to call me an early riser is fair
but a late night of GGE had driven me to despair
I observ'd the clock ne'er erring still
I had placed it on the window sill
but when I looked, much to my shock
it told me twelve.......
(I was expecting 7 O'clock)
I rushed 'cross the room: the sink on-turning
by brain pounding, my soul yearning
but somehow I felt a weight on my heart
last night's berimond had been but a start
I'd be forced to play more and from my life to part
As I sat there I remembered
how the voices pleaded that I surrender
"please go to bed or t'will be too late
you have enough smitten on your plate
if you don't stop we'll break your pate."
(that's where I got the headache.... :P)
quoth I, "just one more hit, for the store"
those filthy pixels would be no more
or so I hoped but to my despair
The tents I burned that belonged to the bear
did but respawn everywhere
In my clouded judgement crazy
I convinced myself that I was not lazy
even though the evidence was sound:
the truth lay plain and fit to pound
ev'n my intellect lay neglected upon the ground.
But somehow the witchcraft was my undoing
the guilt upon my spirit accruing
"I'm addicted" I fearing said
"Begin again, don't be led!"
but in contempt I lost my head.
And thus runs the story of my life
the hate, the anguish and the strife
I didn't think t'would be so damning
to log on the site surprisingly void of spamming
and be left destroy'd and all but despairing
And so be learned ye hard of knowing!
all the rest let truth be flowing
be tempr'ate with your time in game
because it can mess with your brain
and you, of course, (generically *sigh*) will never be the same.
Me, 6 months ago:
and now:
One bright summer afternoon as I was walking home from zebra petting class, I decided to swing by my uncle Norten’s place. He's what my mom calls a "hoarder," but I think he has the coolest stuff of anybody in Rancho San Grumpy; you just have to know where to look and not get caught. Not that it's very hard since he's never actually home anymore... a peculiarity my mom attributes to wanderlust, but I think he just sneaks off to the airpond to watch the fish fly.
Well his house is not far from school and when I got to his door I sang the entrance rhyme, which hadn't changed since I was six. I always feel silly having to sing it instead of the normal rap sequence most people have, but it's something from the nineteenth century he once said, and sounds better sung. I could never understand why he liked it. Many of the words in it aren't even words anymore; what is a bandersnatch anyway? That's what you get for listening to stuff from four hundred years ago. But he made me memorize it all the same.
So I went in and skirted around piles of papers, old cabinets and energy rations, ignoring the fun stuff littered here and there because I’d already seen them and could always come back another time. On this trip I wanted to see something new! I squeezed past all the odds and ends until the little study around the back hallway was in view. He usually keeps it boring back here: dull grey and minimal clutter so it’s easier for him to concentrate while doing his hobbies, he’s said. I made a mental note to change it back when I was done, but I told the room to switch to a vibrant green (my favorite color) and started rifling through his desk. Nothing fancy there except a few holocubes and ink transmitters, but I did see a stack of interactive comics: Superclops, Pulverine, Bort & Arnie, and the usual things I already had at home. But at the bottom I saw one I’d never heard of before: GGE Championships - Winter Edition? Awesome, let’s see what we’ve got… I licked the access node and started up the comic.
And nothing happened.
Maybe it was out of ener-dust? If it didn’t recognize me as uncle Norten’s kin, it would have flashed a message. I tried again and still no luck. Turning it over I found what appeared to be a thumb depression. Thumb access?! I didn’t know what he was doing with a comic this old, but I knew it must be worth at least a case of energy rations down at the swap-mart. I wanted to see what it was like though, so I slid my thumb in, hoping it read DNA in addition to just a fingerprint scan.
The
comic bloomed into 3-D, it worked!
Faster than I could draw a breath, the study instantly dropped to just below freezing. My nose started running and I raced to grab a blanket out of the closet. (Leave it to my uncle to have blankets that look like they came from eight different fabrics cobbled together. Old, smelly fabrics.) I knew the temperature didn’t REALLY drop that low, but for as long as I kept the comic on, my body wouldn’t know the difference. So, ragged ancient blanket it was; I wrapped it around me tight.
Looking back in the comic I saw there were impatient villagers peering up at me through the holo-medium. Halberds and crossbows, they wanted. Where were my halberds and crossbows? I sat there dumbfounded; what is a halberd? I shrugged helplessly and blushed, feeling foolish. Disappointed, they shuffled off, collecting tools and weapons from other passers-by. I didn’t understand it; there was no opening act, or holo-tips to tell me what to do. What kind of comic was this? Maybe these old ones worked differently. I explored the frozen village a bit to find out, completely forgetting about my uncle’s study and the bright sun outside. This place even had icicles growing from the icicles, brrrr! Everybody had thick padded clothing too, what looked to be at least 4 layers deep.
Peering in the shops and apartments, not much attention was paid to me. Apparently weapons and armor are all they cared about in this village and I began to suspect the only way to move forward with the comic was to find something to make them notice me. Weapons. Armor.
I didn’t see any gear just lying around, but there was a bulletin at the center of the market square. It listed rewards for defeating the nomad hordes outside the village. The note said they were small now, but expected to grow in size and strength as the week progressed and more of the hordes surrounded the village. Great! Now I knew where to start to get the story rolling! I’d just find some adventurers headed out to the weaker camps and hopefully snag some of the meager equipment they didn’t feel like looting. Nobody would take me serious wrapped in a blanket. Then I could move on to the better stuff.
Nobody said anything to me all day as I kept following groups of hardy veterans and picked up a few battered items here and there. But soon I had a rusty sword, some plated leggings, and what looked like a trash can lid that buckled around my chest. They didn’t help with the biting cold, but after a while I had a sizeable stash of decent equipment. There seemed to be no end to the nomads though, and while I got better stuff, they started becoming more fierce and defending us in greater numbers. The only consolation was that they never rushed out to attack us. Strange, but maybe they felt if they kept fortifying, we’d make a mistake. As the day wore on, it started becoming too cold to continue for long, and a part of me was missing the sunshine outside my uncle’s house; but this place was fascinating and I didn’t know when I’d be able to come back again. I kept pushing and defeating more camps, getting more loot, earning more coin.
Eventually on one of my trips back to the marketplace, the village elder stopped me. Finally, someone noticed me! But instead of admiring my bounty or remarking how fierce I looked, he just wanted me to go to the central pavilion where someone wanted to meet me. Well maybe THEY would recognize what I’d spent all day doing, I really hoped so.
I walked over to the pavilion, scraping the ice and slush off of my shoes and brushing the crusted snow out of my hair. One thing had occurred to me on the way over, the only people I saw walking away from this building earlier in the day were very well dressed in expensive (and dangerous!) looking outfits. Maybe I was in over my head; they’d take one look at me and ask me for my halberd or something… (I still didn’t know what that was). I climbed the steps and approached the center, where a fierce bear of a man sat on a granite dais, watching me approach. Even from here I could see that his unyielding will must have been shaped by the snow and ice that surrounded us.
He beckoned me to approach, and I wondered if I was supposed to kneel, or say something in deference? But he just cracked a grin and said he had witnessed my efforts the past afternoon and wished to reward me with a real warrior’s breastplate. I was shocked, “for free?” I asked. He didn’t laugh, I’m not sure he knew how, but I swear that grin got bigger. “I am the Son of the North!” he exclaimed. “By helping us in our quests to defeat the nomads, you bring us one step closer to repelling the invading hordes. So tell me… do you think you can do the same against the martial Samurai?” I stood there transfixed. Did he think that highly of me? How did I get such a pivotal role, what kind of a comic was this??? I stammered something that I hope sounded like agreement, and he stood up, proclaiming that the rewards I’d seen were only the beginning, and he was proud to see such promise from his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandnephew. What th…
The cold, the frigid air, even the white bleakness all disappeared at once, replaced by the green walls of my uncle’s study. And, unfortunately, my uncle standing before me. Uh oh…
But before he could say anything, the last words of that impervious ice chieftan fell into place. Calling me his great (to the eight) grandnephew. That would mean… I looked up at my uncle Norten. He would be the tenth descendent. The tenth Son of the North. Norten! “I see you’ve been visiting the Great Empire” he said as he lifted the blanket off me. I didn’t know whether he would be upset with me, but I was sure I wanted to go back and explore more of that place. And doubly sure I wanted to ask him about who he, who WE, were. He must have seen it in my eyes, as he laughed and said “don’t worry, this is like a family heirloom and if you weren’t meant to see it you would not have had access.”
“But what happened to it all, is that land still there? Is it possible to really ‘Go’ there anymore?”
“That’s a story for another time” my uncle assured me. “And as far as the comic goes, you can pick up right where you left off during your next immersion. But first I want you to change the room back from this awful salamander green…”
A holiday for all, where grudges die,
With feasting, drinking and DNAs
it's not uncommon to hear one say
"Howdy ho ho yum yum yum,
Christmas time has come!!"
But as we laugh and cheer and joke,
Enjoying times with all our folks,
On the forums, monsters doth dwell
Dragons, multi's, fallen elves,
Trolls, undead and hounds of hell
All are demons we must quell
Yet we stay brave and have no fear,
players reading this post here,
for even as I write this down,
Santa Claus is coming to town!
And the presents that he'll bring
All are grand and fit for kings!
These monstrous beasts shall not last
Against the might of lords they pass
---
So, surrender to our might, CMs and BMs!!!!
Merry Christmas all, this was just a little poem I made on the fly about players having their voice about the game, of course, this sentiment would not be complete without some picture magic, so I just pieced together something very quickly using Paint, I hope you enjoyed it
These 5 are the finalists for the Creative contest competition we had, The top 3 will be announced soon, well done to everyone who entered all of the competitions, prizes will be credited in due course
Thanks,
Angus