Today we Mourn a Forum

[Father Dugal]

Hold on for just a moment...


Wait for it...



Wait for it...






Wait




Wait














Wait













Okay, now...










It's Alive! Alive!

[Father Dugal]

We're back! After a bit of a hiatus, the forum has returned. Doing things that forums do. Like debating or beating the whipping boy. Or being the whipping boy. You be the judge. Lines are open.





You know, I fancy that I must have been that guy in the lower front in another life. Attempting to write something on a stone slab only to find himself daydreaming about nothing and the square of a hypotenuse all at once.

[Casey]

Solomon's temple?

[Father Dugal]

Solomon's temple?

Nope. The School of Athens by Raphael. The painter mind you, not the ninja turtle.

[Casey]

Solomon's temple?

Nope. The School of Athens by Raphael. The painter mind you, not the ninja turtle.

So why did you crop out the titties in the picture you posted?

[Father Dugal]

So why did you crop out the titties in the picture you posted?

Oh, well, as a cultured connoisseur of the visual arts, one feels compelled to accentuate only the best features a masterpiece might present.

[Father Dugal]

I've been logging in to the forum for a while now, and I've noticed something...



The streets are empty. Could it be that the clarion call of technology has lured our group away from this primitive form of Internet communication? Have the Twitters and Snap chatters enticed us to leave our once proud monochrome BBS boards for other lands? For what? For lands filled with virtual milk and honey, where video, pictures, live streams, and photoshop channels all crowd together vying for our attention? Have we cast off the mooring lines of the simple to quest for these fabled lands and their hoards of gold and silver tech piled to the ceilings?

Are we doomed to sail forever on these waters making port for a time and then departing for a supposed better tomorrow? And what of the programs we leave behind? Do they miss us when we're no longer there to fulfill the very function they were created for in the first place?

[Casey]

Blah blah blah...

[Father Dugal]

Blah blah blah...

Oh. I thought I touched the poetic muse. I suppose I failed in my ability to move the souls of the human race.

I shall wander off into the blazing sun searching for some ray of light which perhaps may bring a strand of stirring within humanity.

[Casey]

You know you could always write a journal entry. The Book of Kings is more interesting than the Book of Lamentations....

[Father Dugal]

The Book of Kings

I don't recall encountering any kings in our travels to date. Not in this current run at least.

[Casey]

The Book of Kings

I don't recall encountering any kings in our travels to date. Not in this current run at least.

That's because you weren't playing the last session. Don't worry, Eric is soon to post his journal entry.

[Father Dugal]

You know you could always write a journal entry.

As I've mentioned before, Deorwine is not the kind of person who would keep a journal before or after his adventures. (providing he survives them of course )

Would you like some proof?

Okay, here we go. Deorwine decides to write an account of his dazzling adventures across the Middle Earth. He sits down to a clerk's desk. He prepares the ink and fluffs the plume. He arranges the parchment in a squared sheaf. Dipping his pen into the bottomless inkwell, he scribes these words:

Once upon a time there was a man named Deorwine

A man named Deorwine once

I, Deorwine being born of goodly horse merchants.

Look out Middle Earth. Here comes Deorwine.

Call me the slayer of the sandworm.

Tharbad lived up to its reputation that day. "Thar's bad," I said.

Me Deorwine. Am good with pointed stick.

It was a dark and stormy night when baby Deorwine, son of Dior, cuddled his first spear.



Once upon a time, there was a lovely spear called Traitsveig. It slew all the evil in the land, and it lived happily ever after.


THE END

[Father Dugal]

The Son of Dior and his army of Spearites rule this puny forum and those who hardly post anything at all! Especially those who post nothing at all. (Milamber, I'm looking directly at you.)

[Father Dugal]

The son of Dior will not be held in check. He may not say much, but he is bound and determined that his name appear on all the threads on the front page of this forum at all times.

SO LET IT BE WRITTEN...

SO LET IT BE DONE...

[Father Dugal]

[Casey]

I think I'll go for a walk!

[Father Dugal]

You're not fooling anyone, you know forum?

[Father Dugal]

[Father Dugal]

It's worse than that. It's physics, Jim!

[Father Dugal]

So...for a little over a month now...

[Father Dugal]

[Father Dugal]

Today, we pay tribute to our dear forum, passed from us now now six months since a post has been made...

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