Messages

The Sizlacks - Demo 2 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rClzjXNAB9M&list=PL0D0157169AD28B34&index=1&feature=plpp_video

Donald Fagen (new album): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMLDLRSzip8
The Band (Rock of Ages): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REqj6aXlyM8
Donald Fagen (The Nightfly): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sogYgHlNnqo&feature=relmfu
Donald Fagen (Kamikiriad): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-F7QWtDUjoM
And Finally(!)
The Band (Stage Fright): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTbX_XYo6xI

I'll post more as I think of them/depending on what mood I'm in.

Christ on a bike! He's magnificent! If I didn't feel the orcy urge to tear off his limbs and throttle him with his own hands, I might just sign up with his army!

Shiiit. We can only have one? Well this is a continuous song sooooo.... it counts!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VjvDSX6ywaA

I love the way each track flows into the next one. I've also found that they can all be used during certain instances in RP!

First topic concerns gaming in general, why we game, what we hope to see in the future of gaming etc. Favorite games and what-have-you.

I've been dark a few days concerning this, because of time constraints and other what-the-fuckery. Mondays are days I watch my grandfather, so I will be hoping for a  scheduled recording on Tuesday. Let me know who's interested on attending, and I will try to finally get the bastard ball rolling on this thing.

Hello! As I've mentioned both tonight and last night, I have a YouTube channel. I've been meaning to get back into my Let's Plays, but I'm too much of a lazy bastard to spend the time rendering and editing and shite, so I had a new idea. I've decided to gather a group of people together (five or six) and discuss with them an agreed upon topic, record said conversation; and then post it on my channel. Depending on the number of people interested and free-time- etc, I would record two of these a week, though one is fine. I'd like to know who would be interested in doing this, as aside from the TGS thing that someone mentioned earlier I've not seen much of this sort of thing done before.

I would like to make three things clear. Thing one: This is NOT an excuse to get involved so that you can 'bash' something. I will refuse to allow people to join in with the recording sessions and be nothing but negative. You WILL be banned from attending if you're purposefully a bastard.
Thing two: I understand that when you have a group of people discussing a topic where there are many opinions being shared, said people can take offence or become upset with what someone else has said to them. Obviously I would like to avoid this if at all possible, but also please remember that everyone is entitled to their opinions and to not get so butt-hurt because someone questions what you think. (This mainly applies to a particular discussion I intend to record at some point.)
Thing three: The more the merrier! Just because I say that each episode of Let's Discuss features me and five/six people, that does not mean that those people will always be the same. Depending on who's interested, I would set up a rotation system of some sort whereby everyone gets a chance to be in an episode. This also means that people can submit ideas for topics of conversation and if I pick their topic, they will of course be in that episode. If you have alts in other RP guilds, I would be more than happy for you to tell your other guildies about this.

Now all that's out of the way, I'd like to make one final thing known. You will not be able to take part unless you have a microphone, and Teamspeak or Skype or something else of that nature. I plan on having a session tomorrow evening, probably around 18:30pm or 19:00pm. Let me know here or via my skype (Sergeant_White) if you are interested or have further questions. ^_^

Sergeant_White, SergeantWhite, SergeantJWhite, SGTWhite, SGTJWhite. Basically any of those on pretty much every game or the internet. My skype's Sergeant_White. I don't play XBox online anymore, but I'm usually up for a game of Killing Floor or Red Orchestra (1 and 2) on the ol' PC. Not too adverse to random calls on Skype either, as long as it's not like 4 in the morning. My Steam ID is also Sergeant_White.

Guess I should've revised my earlier post a bit. I don't know about the rest of you guys, but I was brought up around people who drank, maybe not excessively but they still knew how to enjoy their alcohol. On holidays or at social gatherings I tend to drink. I'm not the sort of guy who'll pass out/throw up in/on your car or anything (except for that one time in Wickham, which has never been repeated) but I do enjoy a good pint or five at a night out, or even a few bottles with my mates chilling. I don't know how one could expect to have a social gathering of adults (or young adults at the very least) that lasts for a few days without some alcohol being involved. Now obviously it's not like I'd expect everyone to get completely pyjama'd,  but to throw a person out of a do because they had a bit too much to drink? That's just cold man.

As for the New Year's thing, I don't really tend to do much with the family for that anymore, people having moved on and whatnot, but for the sake of other people and to make sure as many of us could attend as possible, would it not be wiser to hold said gathering at a more convenient time? Holidays tend to be when one spends time with the family. But that's just my opinion anyway.

So yeah this is my revised comment. I still think it's a great idea and would love to attend.

Depending on army stuff, I'd be well up for that.

I have a certain amount of tolerance for gankers and the like. Not as much as for elves.... but that's a whole other story entirely. Bloody elves. Anyway. I think that we can outlast these *expletive deleted* and their *blankedy-blank* stupidity. I will of course go where the tribe goes, but unless it gets to the point where this is something we experience every single evening, then I'd say wait for them to get bored, wander off and annoy someone else. As someone (Koz? or Vash maybe?) said this evening, when MoP comes out they'll all be too busy doing that to get on our collective tits. Yes, it would be nice to just blueshield, but then we'd have to deal with a bunch of naked people farting on us or dancing or sticking their arses in our faces or whatever it is retards and young gamers do for enjoyment nowerdays.

Anyhoo, there's my two cents.

On a different note, if it does get to a point where it just becomes an intollerable thing, we could always try and ask Blizzard to sort it out. I know that the chances of that are slim to nil, but it's an RP server as well as a PVP server, and surely that has to count for something. I might be wrong. Anyway, that's my deal on the whole issue. Feel free to disagree or whatnot.

Much love.

Uldum. A place wrapped in war. War with itself, war with the sands and with the elements. Nothing but war.

"What the fel am I doing here?"
"What sort of a question is that, boy? We know why you are here. You are here because this is your place. You were born into hardship. You will do well in this land."
"What if I am tired of war?"

Lom'rak rose, leaving the campfire and heading west towards the edge of the oasis. Skorm followed. Together they stood, eyes upon the shifting sands below.

"Tired of war? What sort of talk is that, for any orc?"
"Are you not? War took you and my mother. It took my brothers, my sister.. My woman. Is it wrong for me to say that I have had enough?"

The figure at his shoulder paused, words failing him. A hand upon Lom'rak's shoulder said it all.

"There is only honour, boy. These are the words my father taught me. The words I taught you. Honour is all that matter to anyorc. You should know this."
"Aye. I do."
"So then, boy, why are you here?"
"To honour you. To honour the souls of my ancestors and the dead whom follow me still, even as you do. To honour my tribe and the new family it has become."
"It is a good tribe, my son. You will do well here. They will come to see your worth as I did, when you were but a stripling cub learning the ways of steel and blood. Honour them. They will honour you in turn."
"Yes, father."

Lom'rak took one last look out at the sands, before making his way back through the dark to the fire. Skorm watched him go, and then turned his gaze to the west.

"A weight rests upon him. A doom he has yet to understand. It will find him, in time. Let us hope that it finds him ready."
"He is your son, Skorm. He will be ready."

The she-orc stood beside her husband, and a host of shades with her. A multitude of the ancestor spirits. Of Lom'rak's ancestors. Ever would they watch him, and ever would their souls weigh down upon his own.

((Just a short little thing about Lom and his current state of mind. I will go into the whole thing to do with his father and the spirits at a later date, maybe in a campfire RP session, maybe in more writings. We'll have to wait and see.))

Awww. That was really nice Therak. I'm not one much for writing stuff, but I think Lom'rak would return his his solitary existance if the tribe were to break apart. Maybe he'd take Keish with him. Who knows. It's hard to get into his mind when I'm not RPing him. He'd likely spend the rest of his days wandering the lands, never straying too long in heavily-populated areas, living off of the land and maybe hiring out his steel. Whatever the case, Lom's death will be a violent affair. Be it fighting for The Red Blades, or in some merc outfit, he will definately end his days a warrior.

Maybe I'll write something up in the future.

Sun beats down upon the sands of Tanaris. Barren and desolate as they seem, they are none-the-less a source of life. Basilisk, Hyena, Roc and scorpid. All are dangerous foes and provide good hunting. The most dangerous of all, however, is the Silithid. These hive-dwelling insects work with the singular purpose of the automaton. They live only to serve. The have no thoughts save those of the collective being that is the colony. It was the Silithid that had drawn the young orc to this knoll.

Sun flamed down upon his head, his brow sweat-slick in the afternoon heat. A she-wolf, black as jet loped close at hand; her snout close to the grit, scent-searching. It was clear to the orc where his pray had come from. The twitching, towering structures down there in the bowl. Not the Crater. No, that was further west. This was more an excavation. Something dug by the creatures swarming down in it. No reason to go down there to them. Suicidal as ever a guesture could be. No. He would wait. He was good at that.

"A wise orc will not try to spread his wisdom amongst monkeys."

What it meant still eluded him, but he thought he was coming close to figuring it out. Great-father had told him that. Back when he was naught but a stripling in the camps. But that life was over now. Better to look ahead. Besides, he had his quarry. Like ants or termites, the Silithid hive will send out scouts to probe for new nesting or feeding grounds. It was one-such creature that he saw now, skittering across the flame-hot sand. All alone. The she-wolf, scent aquired, growled low in her throat, hackles raised. The young orc tested the blade of his axe with a thumb. Good. It drew blood. It would bite deep.

Moving off at a fast trot he started down the hill. No traction on the soft sand, so his progress became more of a slip-slide. He dug his heels in to slow the descent. Better. The bottom reached he started towards the quarry, she-wolf circling off to flank. They worked well together, this pair. A life-time spent at eachother's side. The bug, for that is what the orc simply called it, appeared un-aware. Good. A quick kill. He wished for no protracted battle. Not this close to the hive. The steel-clash on carapace would attract more. Closer he moved. Almost time.

The hive needs feeding. We must find a new place. A better place. We must rove and dig and search. We will follow the scent-trail we leave behind us. Food is close, scent on the air. We will follow it. Hyena-smells and Basilisk too. We will find us more to feed on. The Hive demands. New smells. New scents in the air, web-thin but the strands thicken. Closer-coming now. We smell fur and teeth and claws and rank, hot breath. Like the Hyena we feed upon, yet different. Regal. And other scents. We pause and search them out. No animal this. It smells of bone and flesh and of the biting ice-rock. We smell the smell of furlessness and of animal hides. It is behind. It is coming to eat us! Burrow! We must burrow to escape this thing and we must fight it from the underearth! We must continue our task!

The bug pauses. Its first and last mistake. The orc charges now, axe raised high, sun-gleam flashing for an instant off of the burnished steel. Then the bug does something unexpected to both orc and she-wolf. It vanishes in a whirling cloud of sand. The orc skids to a stunned halt, the she-wolf circling, teeth bared in a snarl. Warily now, they both approach the mound of sand. Nothing. Then from behind it comes, springing up and out and over in a slash of purple and black. The orc dives away but too late. Sliced open on the left rib-side. The she-wolf springs also to defend her kin. They collide mid-leap, all fur and teeth and clattering mandibles. Blood, both red and black, flies.

The orc lies still awhile. Blood does not flow as thickly from the wound as it aught. It should have been the death of him. Green ichor from the bug's blade-thing seems to have gummed the wound together. Poisoned, no-doubt. This does not bode well. Still, he is alive and that is something. To his feet he climbs. The wolf has backed off a pace or two, whining softly. The silithid is without a few limbs, and a feeler is gone. The orc readies himself for another attack.

Too much. The black-beast bites and scratches too much. We are faltering. We have failed. But it matters little. The Hive will send us again. For We are many in the number of the great Uncountable. We will not die lightly. A sound behind. We turn too slow. We see the sharp ice-rock flash in the sky-light. We will be sent again. It matters little.

The axe descends. The thing turns but not in time. Its blood spurts black and bile-tasting, showering the triumphant orc. He howls out his rage and pain and victory across the wastes. Heaving, breathless. The bug died well. Bending to inspect the kill before butchery he notices not the death-throes. Mandibles sink into shoulder-flesh. Ichor gushes. A goodbye kiss. A swift head-butt sees to the end of the thing. He shall be more careful in the future. Wrenching himself and his axe free, he sets to butchering the carcass.

They will all eat well this night.

Hrmm... Books...

Anything by Tolkien.
If Chins Could Kill ~ Bruce Campbell
Video game Strategy Guides(?) ~ Prima (Mostly)
Anything by Rosemary Sutcliff
Band of Brothers ~ Stephen E. Ambrose
Beyond Band of Brothers ~ The Late Richard Winters. Curahee!
Small list, but I can't remember anything else off-hand.