Writings from Corwyn

[Rhabuka]

Corwyn, a long-time sage of EQOA, has since moved on to other pastures. We cannot allow his writings to fall by the wayside, hence the Head Librarian has commissioned people to track down his works. The following was one of the first tales located...

Just Because I'm Evil Doesn't Mean I'm Not A Nice Guy .. Does It?

Growing up, whenever I went to the Doctor's Office I would read the Magazines in the waiting room. Always, it was Highlight, and my favorite part was the Goofus & Galant comic strip. To me, Galant was a self-serving glory-seeking prat, the kind of kid who always sits in front of the Teacher's desk in school. Goofus was a normal kid, usually in a hurry, who sometimes forgot to do his chores. But that was not how Parents saw it.

I always wanted to give Galant a “swirly”, but that is a different story.

Anyway, so I was thinking, what is the nature of Evil, and does it really mean we have to be Bad?

I play a Shadow Knight, and he is certainly Evil. But does that mean he can't be a Nice Guy?

So I came up with some hypothetical situations, a pop-quiz if you will, to test my Innate Evilness Index (IEI).

--

Scenario #1

An elderly woman on a walker needs to cross the street. “Young Man! Woo-hoo, young man, will you help me across the street, please?”<br>
What do you do?

[The Paladin (or “Galant”) Answer] “Yes Ma'am, of course!” and help her across the street.

[The Shadow Knight Answer] Help her across, but grumble and complain and curse her under your breath, then demand payment when you get to the other side..

[The Bad Shadow Knight Answer] Grab her like a sack of potatoes, spin and hurl her across the street.

[The Conan Answer] Whip out your Broadsword, split her cleanly in half, go thru her purse for spare change.


--

Scenario #2

You are walking thru the park when a kid loses his balloon, it gets stuck in a tree. The kid starts to cry.

What do you do?

[The Paladin Answer] Climb the tree, rescue the balloon, carefully tie the balloon to the kid's wrist, buy him some ice cream, take him on the ferris wheel.

[The Shadow Knight Answer] Ignore the kid, pretend like you can't hear him.

[The Bad Shadow Knight Answer] Only help the kid if his Mom is cute, otherwise, go with previous answer.

[The Really Bad Shadow Knight Answer] Whip out bow and arrow, shoot the balloon, make kid eat the remains.

[The Conan Answer] Lift the child over your head, and powerfully throw him in the direction of the balloon. Whether he recovers it or not is clearly not your concern.


--

Scenario #3 (a.k.a. The Sir Walter Raleigh Challenge)

You are walking with a beautiful woman and come upon a mud puddle.

What do you do?

[The Paladin Answer] Take off Leather Coat, throw it down on the mud, assist the beautiful lady in crossing over the mud being careful to not get mud on her.

[The Lazy (or Typical Healer) Answer] Wait for puddle to dry, or suggest we head back.

[The Rogue Answer] Go around the puddle.

[The Shadow Knight Answer] Suggest we strip and wrestle in the mud puddle.

[The Bad Shadow Knight Answer] Push her down into the puddle, walk over her, careful not to get mud on yourself.

[The Conan Answer] Pick her up, leap the puddle, carry her to the nearest Bandit village and sell her.

--

Well, I hope we've all learned something from the IEI quiz. There are indeed degrees of Badness, and Shadow Knights do not necessarily need to plumb those foul depths.

[Rhabuka]

Paladin Nan learns why Paladins can't fight

[snoring echos thru Tank Academy ... all the new Paladins are sneaking around in their one-piece pajamas ... a very young Paladin Nan is elected to speak on behalf of the Paladins]

Nan: [shaking the old man with the sleeping cap on] "Father Domingo! Father Domingo, wake up!"

Domingo: "Zzzzz .. eh? wha? put the rice on it honey pie, I'll take that ... Zzzzzz"

Nan: [shaking more violently] "Wake UP!"

Domingo: "Zzzzz .. eh? wha? Headmaster? Is that you? I swear I didn't touch one hair on their sweet little heads, I ..."

Nan: "Father Domingo! It's me! Paladin Nan! Wake up!"

Domingo: [puts on spectacles] "Nan? What are you doing out of bed? Come here and sit in my lap and tell me what is bothering you."

Nan: "It's combat training, Father. Me and the other Paladins really want to learn how to fight!"

Domingo: "Ho-ho-ho-chortle. Of course you do, Nan. Every young Paladin thinks he can fight, but you will learn eventually. One day, you may even be telling other Paladins how they cannot fight. Ironic, no?"

Nan: I cannot believe that, sir. I do not believe it. It will never happen!

Domingo: No? Come, let us look into my pool of the future.

[Domingo takes Nan by the hand and leads him into a small room. In the room is a basin with toothbrush and tooth paste, a tub, and a porcelain pool oddly shaped like a chair. The chair has a small metallic handle on it]

Domingo: Look into the still waters, and see your future.

Nan: [looking, looking, looking so hard his eyeballs felt like they would explode, until finally, he saw himself! All grown up!]

Grown up Nan: You are just fooling yourselves young tanks! You cannot deal damage, only absorb it, like a matress tied around a tree! It was proven to me in my youth, I know this to be true ...

Current (young) Nan: No! Did you see what I saw?

Domingo: No, the vision was for you alone.

[Domingo presses on the metallic handle, the vision waters swirl away!]

Nan: Can't we even try? My future may not be set, perhaps I can alter it.

Domingo: [sighs] Very well. Get your friends, meet me in the court yard.

[Nan does as he is told. When the young Paladins reach the courtyard, Domingo is there with a Garden hose, watering down a large object.]

Nan: Father, what is it?

Domingo: It is a giant paper bag. All of you will go inside it. If any one of you can punch your way out of it, you will be admitted to Shadowknight/Warrior special training. Otherwise, you will all complete the Paladin training, and stop this nonsense. Agreed?

[The young Paladins agree, and the bag is placed over them]

Domingo: Begin!

[They punch and they punch and they punch. To no avail. The soggy bag will not yield!]

Nan: It's a trick! The bag is enchanted or something!

Domingo: No. Annabelle, come here, please.



Domingo: Annabelle, please punch the sopping wet paper bag.

[Annabelle sleepily does as she is told, her fist goes right thru it. Annabelle returns to her mother in the stunned silence that follows.]

Domingo: Do you understand now, Nan?

Nan: Yes. Yes I do. It doesn't matter what we do, it's who we are. Paladins. And we CAN NOT DO DAMAGE. Only take it. I understand now. Thank you, Father Domingo!

[Rhabuka]

A Shadowknight Opera

[The scene: various Tanks are in combat, trying to improve thier skills]

Shadowknight: Dude, watch this, this is one of my cooler powers.

Warrior: Ok ...

SK: Hey Orc, come here!

Orc: Eh? I didn't see you there! This is a restricted area, you will have to
come with me ...

[At that moment, the Shadowknight throws back his head and an awful sound,
like a hundred baby seals being clubbed, issues forth. For a brief moment, a
giant translucent Skull appears, then is gone.]

Orc: [rolling around on the ground] Oww! !@#$%^&!! What is wrong with you!?!?

Warrior: !@#$%^&!! It feels like you just drove an icicle into my ears!

Paladin: [running over from across the zone, where he still heard the unholy
utterance] What was that? Did a plane crash into a dynamite factory?

SK: Yeah, cool huh? That's my Shrill Shout of Despair. It saps your
life essence, and transfers it to me.

Orc: Fine, you can have it, just keep your mouth shut, please.

SK: See? It works! Now try this one:

[The Shadowknight throws his head back and emits a sound like two manure
trucks colliding at a hundred miles an hour. Again, a Skull appears for a
moment, then is gone.]

Orc: Aaaarrrrggghh! Stop it!

Warrior: [also on the ground covering his ears] What the !@#$%^ was that?!

SK: That was my Unholy Shriek of Disgust. It reduces my target's will
to live.

Orc: Yeah, I can see that - I'd rather die than listen to that again.

Warrior: Oof - almost as bad as Justin Timberlake trying to do rap.

Paladin: Dude, please. Nothing is that bad. It did, however, make me
think of Mount St. Helen's errupting on an Orphange located next to a
Retirement Villa - which is to say, it was really, really bad.

SK: Hmm, I'm sorry you aren't seeing the value in this. Here's my best one
...

[The sound that came out of the Shadowknight this time is indescribable. If a
thousand people had dragged thier fingernails across a chalkboard while
suffering through a Barry Manilow retrospective in the Pits of IoD, that might
have come close, but still fallen short. Again a skull appeared, looked
around, then disappeared.]

Orc: [flat on his back, sucking wind] ...

Warrior: Oh God, I think I'm deaf. I think I'm deaf and I am happy about it.

Paladin: Why, why did you do that? How did you do that? A human being should
not be capable of such sounds.

Warrior: My ears are actually bleeding ...

SK: That was my Penultimate Creshendo of Awfulness. It steals the AC
of my opponent, and transfers it to me.

Warrior: [lip reading] Must have worked. You could go kick him if you wanted
to - if you knew how to Kick that is.

SK: Don't start that again, please.

Warrior: Anyway, that guy is in no shape to fight back.

Paladin: I just want to go home and take a bottle of Advil. Do you think they
would work better if I just inserted them directly into my ears?

Warrior: What was that skull-thingy that keeps appearing and disappearing?

SK: Uh, I'm not entirely sure. I think, because of my close relationship with
Death, that it is Death itself appearing, signifying soon he will be taking my
intended prey.

[The skull reappears]

Death: No, I keep appearing and asking you to stfu, but you can't hear me over
your own noise. Please, turn down the volume, okay? They can hear you in the
next plane of existence.

[Rhabuka]

PaladinNan's Ultimate Tanking Style

In a smaller, perhaps unread thread, Paladin Nan did not deny a statement he made - that all he wears to Tank is a BP and a shield! He even went on to say that he is dead sexy!

I am shocked! Appalled! Horrified!

But, knowing him to be of (otherwise) sterling character, even though he slammed me unfairly in another thread, I had to give him the benefit of the doubt - I had to see it for my self. Here's what happened:

---------

Corwyn: [to children of Xrag] "Excuse me, Mr. Floating Eye, have you seen a half naked Paladin running around here?"

Child of Xrag: [eye rolls up] "He's gone around the bend - litterally and figuratively."

Corwyn: "I see. Was he not wearing any leggings?"

Child of Xrag: "Nope! Little Paladin was working without a net, so to speak."

Corwyn: "Disconcerting, I take it?"

Child of Xrag: "Indeed. I kept looking away, and when I did he would smack me with that shield. When I looked at him, he accused me of being a deviant."

Corwyn: "My God! It was a no-win scenario for you!"

Child of Xrag: "I am crying over it still! I am just a child!"

[Corwyn followed the path of carnage left behind PaladinNan]

Corwin: "Nan! For God's sake, what are you doing?!"

Nan: "Corwyn! What do you think of my new tanking strategy? So far, it works great! And my repair bills are cut in half, if you know what I mean!"

Corwyn: "This is intentional? You didn't just wake up this morning and forget your pants?"

Nan: "Nope! Nobody likes to look at a naked guy, even one dead sexy like me! Plus, it feels sort of liberating, if you know what I mean."

Corwyn: "Uh, okay. Aren't you concerned about Little Paladin taking a hit? Your, um, potential lineage could be in jeopardy."

Nan: "Nah. I'm a Paladin."

Corwyn: "And? You are immune to blows to the groin?"

Nan: "No, all Paladins are celebate. We don't, um, have relations, if you know what I mean."

Corwyn: "Paladins aren't celebate."

Nan: "Of course they are!"

Corwyn: "No, I've had plenty of Paladin girlfriends. Not celebate, not in the least."

Nan: "..."

Corwyn: "Who told you this?"

Nan: "Father Domingo, when he was teaching us how to fight ..."

Corwyn: "Domingo! I didn't even know he was still alive. What is he, about a hundred years old now?!"

Nan: "... all these years ..."

Corwyn: "Listen, I think it's time for you to go home now, ok? Before the cops get here. Xrag is not happy about you flashing the kids."

Nan: "Can I borrow your cloak, to cover myself? I'll return it tomorrow ..."

Corwyn: "Keep it, please."

[Rhabuka]

The Death of Corwyn

Corwyn: I'll get you now Gil!

GilroyKilroy: Sigh. <roots Corwyn>

Corwyn: Hey, I can't move! <struggles in vain>

GilroyKilroy: <checks auctions> <talks to guild> <reroots Corwyn>

Corwyn: Why you no good @#$%^&!

GilroyKilroy: <chain casts fire/Lightning nukes, Ensnares Corwyn>

Corwyn: Gotcha now! Wait, WTF, I'm like in quicksand here!

GilroyKilroy: <few more fire/Lightning nukes while running circles around Corwyn>

Corwyn: <dizzy> Get over here you little pipsqueek for a Sprite! Just wait till I HT you!

GilroyKilroy: <finishes off Corwyn with a few more nukes, goes back to LFG>

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How colorful. Here's what really happened:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gil: I'm coming after you, Corwyn!

Corwyn: Um. Why?

Gil: Because of all those smart-alecky things you write! You think you're funny? You are gonna look funny with my sword sticking out of your arse, like a flag!!

Corwyn: Well, at least you are in touch with your anger ...

Gil: No more jokes, I challenge you to a duel! [slaps Corwyn's handsome face, square chin, steely blue eyes, with a glove]

Corwyn: Hmm. The fact that you are 14 levels higher than me seems to make you think you are impervious to my sacred abilities. Very well, old friend, I will meet you in the street.

[Crowd gathers. The sun is beating down, the air seems uncharacteristically still. All the Druids are jeering Corwyn. All the women folk are crying and consoling one another, as they do not want Corwyn to meet with any harm - they all want him to father their children, you see.]

Brayden: Gentlemen, on my mark you will begin.

Gil: So long, Corwyn. Your time here has come to an end.

Corwyn: Can we move this along? I have a haircut appointment later today, you know how Andre gets when you are late.

Brayden: Begin!

Gil: [immediately roots Corwyn] Ha!

Corwyn: [Deadpan] Oh no. I can not move. Whatever will I do? [rests two-handed bladed warhammer on the ground, unslings bow]

Gil: You think an arrow can hurt me?

Corwyn: [shrugs] Let's find out.

[In a blur Corwyn releases two arrows. Gil raises his shield, the arrows pierce the shield, attaching the shield forever to his arm]

Gil: Ahh! You .. you ... [expletives deleted]

Corwyn: Hey look! The root spell just faded, see? [Corwyn dances a brief jig, the crowd laughs and applauds in delight of Corwyn's showmanship]

Brayden: Gentlemen! Blood has been drawn! Honor has been upheld! Are you satisfied?

Corwyn: Yes.

Gil: No!

Corwyn: Er, I guess not then.

Gil: [casts flurry of heal and buff spells on self, draws sabre] We'll do this the old fashioned way! [charges Corwyn]

[Corwyn pulls two-handed hammer from the ground, begins incantations for Shadowknight self buffs ...]

Gil: Ahh, your damage shield barely scratches me! Mine is many times stronger than yours!

Corwyn: Hmm? I wasn't paying attention. Your damage shield is pleasuring me ...

[Gil, furious, slashes and stabs repeatedly. Wounds appear on Corwyn's massive, powerful frame, then disappear. Gil suddenly notices he is getting winded.]

Gil: I ... I don't ... what are you doing to me!?

Corwyn: Well, it's like this Gil. I am a Shadowknight. My Chill Aura, my Veil of Death, my Blood spells, and my crafted Vampiric Hammer are all sucking life out of you. Plus I hit you with a little DoT. But there is some good news.

Gil: What's that?

Corwyn: I was going to say I got a good deal on car insurance, but even better is some of the life I am tapping out of you is feeding me.

Gil: You monster!

Corwyn: Let's not get personal. Call this off, Gil, before it goes too far.

[Gil breaks off, backs up several steps, changes form into a Tree]

Gil: You've had your fun, devil. Now it's my turn.

Corwyn: Hmm, can't move while in tree form, can you? Well, I don't have an axe, but ...

[Corwyn puts his back into a mighty two handed over-the-head blow square in Gil's Tree face. Gil is reverted to Human form and thrown backwards.]

Gil: [spits blood] Enough of this!

[Gil begins casting, and in moments there is a raging firestorm surrounding Corwyn, burning him. Then lightnings play about him, then horrific disease. Corwyn is dying quickly, stumbles towards Gil, begins casting his own spells ...]

Death appears momentarily, laughs his unholy mirth, and is gone, as Corwyn again sucks some of the vitality from Gil. Corwyn does this two more times as he tries to close the gap between them, each step bringing Corwyn closer to his own death. Still the fires gush forth from Gil's outstretched hand.

Gil is resolute and refuses to back away as the nearby Druids are imploring him to do. Still the lightnings rain forth from Gil's outstretched hand.

Corwyn stumbles and falls, but is able to grab Gil's ankle - and Corwyn releases his Pain Touch.

Gil was prepared for this, as are all who have faced or worked with a Shadowknight, and immediately casts a heal on himself.

Then Corwyn released a Harm Touch, his most lethal and feared ability, and sorely was Gil affected, but still he did not fall. Still the lightnings fell and danced upon Corwyn.

And Corwyn died.

There was silence in the street. The high magicks Gil had invoked dissipated. Brayden shook himself for a moment, then moved forward, grabbing Gil's arm and raising it in triumph.

"You are victorious." Brayden said, letting Gil's arm drop to his side.

A buzz began then in the crowd, as small conversations began among the observants. Gil could overhear one Warrior saying to another "What a fellow he was, what a fellow he was". There were hard looks coming to Gil from many of the crowd members, and many of them were Shadowknights.

One walked into the middle of the street. For a moment Gil thought he would be challenged again.

"A son of Innoruuk is fallen. Who will help me bear him to his place of rest?" Others came forward to assist. Gil was forgotten for the moment.

The assembled Druids were leaving, Gil fell in step behind them. No one spoke.

-

Years later, the stories are still told by those who were there, and those who wish they were there. The Druids rarely come into towns now, and fewer members join their religious sect every year. Gil has semi-retired, and works as a librarian for Syll. Brayden no longer serves as enforcer of code duello, and is occasionally seen planting flowers in the graveyard where many warrior-poets are buried, including one who just wanted to make his peers smile.

Many children that have been born since that day are named Corwyn, and many of them aspire to be a Shadowknight.

[Rhabuka]

Day #1 at Tank Training Camp

[An unbiased comparison of Paladins, Shadowknights, and Warriors in training]

Teacher: Here at Tank school, you will learn how to be a good Tank. We will teach you. Just listen. But save your questions for later, your instructors need to pay attention to the entire class, they cannot just hold your hands, you Nancys!

[general guffaws and laughter]

Teacher: Now: lets divide up by class, shall we? Paladins over there, Warriors over there, uh-huh, Shadowknights over here.

Teacher: OK, today's lesson for the Warriors and Paladins is "How to take a beating". Shadowknights, your lesson is "How to deliver a beating". You will be using the Paladins and Warriors as practice dummies.

Shadowknight: Cool!

Teacher: Actually, this will be the lesson plan for the rest of the week.

Paladin: Um, sir, when do Paladins get to learn how to give a beating?

Teacher: [frowning] They don't. That's not your job, son.

Paladin: But ...

Warrior: What about us?

Teacher: What about you?

Warrior: Do we get to learn how to deliver a beating?

Teacher: Um, towards the end of your training we will have some Melees show you how to Kick.

Warrior: All right!

Shadowknight: Is that something we need to know?

Teacher: HA! No, of course not. The beatings you will deliver will not need to be supplemented by the sad little Kick ability.

Warrior: [frowns]

Paladin: Oh my, sir, if we could just talk about this a little bit more?

Teacher: What now?

Paladin: Well, it seems you want us to do nothing more that just stand here and get beat up.

Teacher: Correct! Keep this up and you will earn a Gold Star for the day!

Paladin: Yes sir. But is that all we will ever do?

Teacher: Noooo - you will also entice mobs into giving you beatings. So you won't always just be standing there.

Paladin: Don't we hit back?

Teacher: Well, yes, sort of. You're not very good at it. Father Domingo, our 80-year old Cleric, will teach you how to hit.

Paladin: How are we going to learn anything from him!?

Teacher: You won't. That's the way it's been done since day one, son.

Paladin: [under his breath] I think I need to talk to my guidance counsellor.

**********************************

[Graduation Day at Tank Academy, graduation-ish music (pomp and circumstance) plays in the background, everyone is wearing graduation caps and gowns (robes!)]

Instructor: Gentlemen, you've all come a long way. I'd like to personally congratulate each of you on having excelled in your various fields.

Instructor: When you leave here, you will be given 20, yes 20 Training Points to distribute as you see fit. Let your education here be your guide as to how you distribute those points.

instructor: Don't get too attached to those robes! Only a very few of you will ever wear one again. ~sigh~

Instructor: Shadowknights, you've learned the Art of Combat, and a bit of Necromancy. Your diplomas will all have the eerie Skull & Crossbones insignia. Good luck to you in future endeavors.

Instructor: Warriors, you've learned that you are the only Tank class that can dual wield. You are almost as good in a fight as a Ranger, and certainly better than a silly Bard. [general laughter, light applause, someone says "here, here!"] Your diplomas will bear the insignia of the Crossed Swords. Good luck to you in your future endeavors.

Instructor: Paladins, well, what can I say? You should have been Clerics. Your greatest strength is that you are good at getting beat up. Once per day you can heal yourself - so you can take even more of a beating. Your insignia used to be a door mat, but this year we changed it to this: a picture of a raw steak on a shield. Meat shield. Get it? [Laughter, mostly from the Shadowknights and Warriors. Father Domingo stirs briefly, but closes his eyes again.]

Instructor: All kidding aside, Paladins, good luck to you finding a group, because I really can't see anyone picking you over a Shadowknight, Warrior, or slightly beefed up Cleric.

[All the students throw thier caps in the air ... well most of them do, the Paladins are not happy]

Paladin: I swear to you all, I will prove you wrong. I will get groups. I will gain levels. I will be a legendary Tank. I swear it!

Shadowknight: Forget it, dude. You're screwed. I hear Qeynos is looking for a new stable boy, maybe you can get a job over there?

[Rhabuka]

Wallflowers -- Not the prettiest at the jr. high dance? Picked last for kickball?

[high level Bard enters High Pass, before he/she can type "/lfg on", is beset with tells offering group membership]

Tell#1: Looking for group?

Tell#2: LFG? We have Healer, Tank, and DD!

Tell#3: LFG? We have Healer, Tank, and DD, all 4 levels above you, and we want you in our group!

Tell#4: LFG? Normally we are Guildies-only, but we saw you there, and we felt we could make an exception this one time, as we recognize you as an exceptional sort. You see ...

Tell#5: LFG? We are starting a guild of uber-only players, and will be the envy of the server, and would like you to join! You can be a Master! Certainly you are Master material ...

Tell#6: LFG? Giving away pan-uber-rares! We have a complete suit of armor for you, make you the strongest Bard that ever walked the Planet!

Tell#7: LFG? We know this ultra-hidden cool chic grinding spot, where the mobs practically lay down to be slaughtered! Crazy XP! And you don't have to do anything - just occassionally do the Mana-regen thing - heck, you can go afk if you need to!

Tell#8: LFG? I'd like to send you this RL check for $50 if you will just come with us for 1 hour ...

Tell#9: LFG? I will pay you just to walk around with me and pretend you are in my group.

Tell#10: LFG? I have a house on the beach I would like you to use for 2 weeks this summer, but I will need you to group with us first - purely as a formality I assure you! I ...

Tell#11: LFG? One million tunar, plus a CV and a Spectre ...

Tell#12: LFG? My mom says she will make you dinner if you will just ...

Tell#13: LFG? I've got these flowers and candy for you ...

[standing in the corner ...]

Shaman: Man, I can remember when we were that popular.

Druid: Yeah. Bloom is off the Rose now, eh boys?

Cleric: Speak for yourself. Now that it's been revealed that Paladins are merely weak shadows of Clerics, I am getting job offers as Healer and Tank!

Shaman: No way!

Cleric: Way.

Druid: I don't believe that for a second.

Cleric: OK, I lied, but it sounded good. Had numbskull going for a sec, anyway.

Shaman: Well, at least I get to go with Pet Groups ... if there were any ...

Druid: Hey, isn't that Corwyn over there?

Cleric: Yeah! HEY CORWYN! Whacha doin, fool!?

Corwyn: Oh, hey fellas. Trying to get a group. It sucks to be a Rogue sometimes. I think I am going to beef up my STAMINA so I can solo or something.

Cleric: Solo? You loser. Be a man and stand here and wait to be picked.

***************************

[Bard moves through Highpass, carried on the shoulders of many adoring fans. Placed on a pile of comfortable cushions, fed grapes by hand, fanned with gigantic feathers whose origins have never been fully explained, Bard takes an occasional pull of nearby hookah]

Casters: oh most pussiant Bard, whilst thou energize us, that we may do many magical things.

Bard: Nay.

Healers: oh glorious Bard, whilst thou ignite the fires of our hearts, that we may heal mightily.

Bard: Nay.

Tanks: oh divine Bard, whilst thou bless us, that we may better kick the crap out of our opponets.

Bard: I say thee, nay.

Community: What then, whilst thou accept, to come and use thy splendid gifts on our behalf.

Bard: I ...

Community: Yes?

Bard: I want ...

Community: Yes?

Bard: I want to be married.

Community: Married?

[Fast thinking cleric]

Cleric: Oh handsome Bard, whilst thou marry me, making me the luckiest man alive?

Bard: Oh! This is all so sudden! I mean, I never thought .. Oh what the heck! You only live once! Yes, Cleric, I will marry you!

[Cleric turns and faces the other assembled players]

Cleric: And Kcirrot says we are homely, eh? Plain Janes? Well who's looking good now, huh?!

Paladin: But, um, you know, nothing wrong with it or anything, but, you are moth males.

Cleric: Details. I am, by extension, now the most popular player of the all! Bard will only group with me, now I get to be picky again! Back to the old ways! Healers rule!

Shaman: Wow, he's really taking one for the team.

Druid: I .. I am speechless. I never expected this skit to take a left turn into madness.

Corwyn: Eh, some dude complained my stuff was getting hackneyed and trite. So I gotta throw a few curves - keep you awake.

[Rhabuka]

The Most Beloved (Pampered, Spoiled) Class(es) Part 1

-Begin Part One-

[Deep in Druidhome, Brayden, GilroyKilroy and Kcirrot are finishing getting dressed in their finest robes, garments, and jewelry ...]

Gil: [looking in a mirror] Man! I look like a Million Tunar! And I smell terrific!

Kcirrot: But I have better hair.

[Manly laughter.]

Brayden: Do you really think Druids have a chance of winning?

Kcirrot: Well, 14 classes to pick from, we certainly have a 1 in 14 chance. Plus, lets face it, Druids tend to be pretty decent and easy to get along with, so yeah, I think we have a pretty good shot.

Brayden: You don't think all that “Cry like a Druid”-stuff will come back to haunt us?

[Kcirrot makes a face and shakes his head “no”]

Gil: We'd better get going, don't want to be late!

Kcirrot: We won't be late, we all have Wilding and can run there!

[Giggling like school girls, they leave Druidhome on their way to the stadium, where the first annual Most Popular Class ceremony will be held.]

[On the way to the stadium, the three Druids encounter Corwyn, Paladin Nan, and RangersKikAss, shoveling earth, waist deep in a ditch, covered in sweat and dirt.]

Gil: What are you guys doing? You can't go the contest looking like that.

RKA: [snort] You're right – and we aren't. We are busy here.

Corwyn: We are getting all the dirt out of this precisely measured hole.

Nan: And when we hve finished, we will then proceed to put the dirt back in the hole, where it actually belongs.

[awkward silence]

Kcirrot: Okay, I'll ask. Why are you doing this?

Corwyn: I think it is a metaphor for either how we waste time, or, we are a waste of time.

Nan: I was thinking more along the line of it being a comic device plot.

RKA: Naw, you're both wrong. It's a metaphysical example of the futility of our existence.

[Corwyn and Nan nod, go back to shoveling.]

Brayden: [nodding] Right. Well. Better be moving along, nothing to see here.

[Running, they realize they will be late, so they use SoW, and get to the stadium a little quicker. It is already filling up. They find seats held for them by friends.]

Gil: [looking around] There is something wrong here.

Brayden: [looking at program] Hey, this says Bordael himself will be MC'ing the event!

Kcirrot: Master Class'ing?

Brayden: Master of Ceremonies.

Gil: Look around, tell me what you see.

[They all look.]

Kcirrot: What? Looks okay to me.

Brayden: Healers. They are all healers. I don't see a single non-healer.

Kcirrot: You're right! But why?

Gil: Dunno. Why wouldn't every one show up for a popularity contest, unless ...

[Gil and Kcirrot have extremely high WIS, they are racing towards the same conclusion, when ...]

GONG!

[Bordael appears in a puff of fire and brimstone!]


-Begin Part Two-

[The stadium rocks with the thunderous applause given to Bordael]

Bordael: Thank you, thank you.

[Kcirrot is not applauding, Brayden notices]

Brayden: KC, I noticed you aren't applauding! Why?

Kcirrot: Eh, he ignores me, I will ignore him.

Gil: Clap you fool! Before he notices and punishes you like you were Corwyn!

[Kcirrot's eyes open wide, and he begins to applaud as hard as the guys next to him. And sure enough, Bordael's search beams scan the crowd, looking for anyone not giving him his “props”]

Bordael: [waves hands for applause to stop, and it does, like flicking a light switch – KC's hands sting from how hard he was clapping, as the search beam did linger on him for a moment]

Bordael: I would like to thank you all for coming. Today we will acknowledge the most beloved classes in EQOA.

Bordael: To expedite this process, we will go thru first round eliminations. We will call out the names of classes, you will vote with shouts and applause. The three loudest will move on.

Bordael: Let's Begin!

Bordael: Warriors!

[silence]

Bordael: Um. Remember to make noise when you hear a class you want to vote for.

[silence]

Bordael: Ok. Bards!

[one person claps, the lights all fall on that person, who immediately stops and tries to hide his face behind his program.]

Bordael: Ok! One vote for Bards.

Bordael: Rogues!

[ominous, deafening silence]

Bordael: Monks!

[somewhere someone snickers, derisively]

Bordael: Yeah, I feel the same way.

Bordael: Shaman!

[Thunderous applause!]

Bordael: Clerics!

[Thunderous applause!]

Bordael: Druids!

[Thunderous applause!]

Bordael: Ok, no need to bother with the rest of the list, we have our three finalists! Shaman, Druid, and Cleric!

[Even more thunderous applause!]


-Begin Part Three-

Bordael: And now, I would like to present the three archetypes themselves, you know them, you love them, Druid, Cleric, and Shaman!

[Carried in on the backs of many strong men, are Druid, Shaman, and Cleric. Serving women fan them with long fronds, other beauties carry bowls of fruit, karafes of wine, etc.]

Bordael: Welcome, archetypes!

Cleric: Thank you, Bordael, it is an honor to be here. Grape!



Cleric: Curse you! I've told you a thousand times, peel the grapes first!

[Druid, noticing the antipathy and shock of the crowd, casts an unnecessary heal on the servant. Everyone murmurs appreciatively, and Druid knows he has scored a few points.]

[Meanwhile, Shaman, bored to tears by the grown ups, summons an enormous Dog]

Shaman: Sit! Sit! Good Dog!

Druid: It isn't really a dog, Sham, it's a spirit in the form of a dog.

[Shaman isn't listening, as he is scratching the dogs belly]

Druid: Ok, whatever, it's a dog.

Bordael: [helping the servent to her feet] Yes, well, let's get the show back on track shall we, I ... [the servant accidentally steps on Bord's toes] ... Ow! I cast thee into the deepest pits of Hades, foolish oaf!

[And with a crack of thunder, a flash of fire, and another puff of brimstone, the servant disappears!]

Gil: [whispers to Brayden] Good help is hard to find.

Brayden: Yah, not much future in the food service industries I guess.

Bordael: [booms out] Now, where were we? Oh yes, Cleric, as I recall it, you were recently captured and detained in an Orc prison. What was that like?

Cleric: What do you mean?

Bordael: Well, what was it like? Did you meet interesting new people? Have some amazing adventures? What?

Cleric: Well, the spa left something to be desired, but the meals were excellent. The midnite bingo and pizza buffet was fun, and we prisoners put on a show!

Bordael: Really?

Cleric: Yes, it was “Hello Dolly!”. A big hit, I must say.

[Meanwhile, Shaman's dog has started barking and running around in circles]

Shaman: What is it Lassie? Is Timmy in trouble? He fell down a well? Captured by travelling minstrels? Swept away in a tornado? We'd better go, come on Girl!

[And Shaman leaves, in pursuit of his dog]

Cleric: [to Druid] You didn't give him his real weapons again, did you?

Druid: No, he still has fuzzy nerf weapons and big-kid diapers.

[Rhabuka]

The Most Beloved (Pampered, Spoiled) Class(es) Part 2

Excerpts from the Diary of Father Domingo:

The true ending of The Most Beloved, Pampered, and Spoiled Classes is a guarded secret, known only to a select few. In these, my dying days, let the truth be known. Let the shame of all be exposed.

I was not present for the finale, I was told this by Paladin Nan, whom I regard as irrefutable.

Corwyn, whom some call the Trickster, had been summoned by the Diabolical Mad Genius Bordael to preside as a judge over the contest. Bordael tormented Corwyn, many said he had driven him mad, others say they had driven each other mad. This I do not know, but I will say that it is foretold that in The End Of Days, they would destroy one another.

Corwyn stood and shouted to all assembled that thing was wrong, it would breed jealousy and contempt, that we should all try to get along in peaceful cooperation. But the assembled would not heed him. For they were powerful, and prideful, and they all truly believed their class would win out.

Bordael pushed Corwyn aside and declared it a three-way tie, that all Healers held the title equally, that only healers were spoiled and pampered. The Prize was a mighty artifact, to be shared amongst all who were of the winning classes. An artifact, so powerful - that all desired it.

But the artifact itself had desires. It did not want to be shared. And it fed off the pride, the lust, the jealousy.

A fight erupted. Among Healers, this is a terrible thing to regard, for Healers are a difficult lot to lay down. Powerful magicks were unleashed. Part of the structure collapsed, killing and wounding many.

The Divine Pact had been severed; the Peoples could now enter into open conflict with each other. This is the true Origin of Dueling, this was the straw that broke the Divine Pacts' back.

Thru the fires, the lightnings, the blood, the dust, the darkness, and the thunderous sounds, Corwyn found Bordael, seized him by the lapels.

Corwyn: You bloody fool! Look at what you have unleashed! This thing will kill us all!

Bordael: I didn't know! How could I know?!

GilroyKilroy, Brayden, and Kcirrot had fought their way to where they had seen Corwyn go.

Kcirrot: We've got to get out of here! They have gone mad! The whole place will come down on us soon!

Gil: They have gone mad! I feel it too! I don't know how much longer I can resist it!

Bordael: It's the prize! It is feeding on the desires and pride of so many, it is fueling the conflict! We've got to get rid of it!

Corwyn: How? Wherever we take it, they will follow, until they have taken it from us.

Bordael: We must take it to a place where it has never been seen by mortal eyes!

Gil: It's too late for that!

Kcirrot: Maybe not - maybe we can take it to a place where it has never been seen! Maybe we already have!

Kcirrot: Corwyn! When we saw you on the way here, what were you doing?!

Corwyn: Digging a useless hole. You knew that, I told you.

Kcirrot: Did you bury anything in that hole?

Corwyn: Yes ... I think so, I cannot ... my memory has been affected somehow.

Brayden: I begin to understand!

At that moment, a maddened Shaman ran Brayden thru with a spear, lifting him off the ground, and hurling him to a slavering wolfpack, which engulfed him. Bolts of lightning flew from Kcirrot's and Gil's hands, and the Shaman disappeared from their site.

Kcirrot: Brayden! Noooo!

Gil: We cannot ssave him now! The madness is almost upon me! We must work quickly or I will turn also! What did he learn in the final moments?! What did he understand?

Bordael: What? Understand what?

Kcirrot: Time! Time is the answer! We must roll back time, dispose of the prize, disband the contest! You can do that Bordael!

Bordael: What?! No! I am expressly forbidden from doing this! Only in the direst of emergencies!

Corwyn seized Bordael again: I think this qualifies!

Bordael: looked around him at the carnage, looked into the faces of those before him, and suddenly there was blackness.

Corwyn: What happened? I see the great turning gears ... did we die?

Bordael: Look closer.

Gil: They are turning backwards!

Bordael: Yes. We are moving backwards in time ... we will arrive ... now!

They reappeared in an empty stadium.

Bordael thru the Prize into a sack and handed it to Corwyn.

Bordael: You must find yourself, convince yourself to bury the Prize, and not look upon it. Otherwise it will start the catastrophe all over again.

Kcirrot: I will go with him - someone must have obscured his memories of what happened, I will do it.

Gil: I cannot accompany you, the madness is upon me. Go, now, before I raise my hand to stop you and claim the Prize for myself.

They ran. Shortly, they heard the baying as of a great wolf.

Kcirrot: He follows, but he cannot catch us, our lead is too great.

And soon they came upon Corwyn, but he was not alone - he was in the company of Paladin Nan, and RangesKikAss.

Kcirrot: No time! I must bind you three to my geas, you must not fight it. I beg this of you, for I cannot explain the circumstances!

Past Corwyn, looking into his own furure eyes and seeing the shadows of dread therein, nods. Nan and Ranger also agree.

The baying of the wolf grew in their ears like approaching thunder. Kcirrot finished the spell.

Kcirrot: Tell no one the truth of your actions! Bury this thing and forget it! Bury it where none will find it! Go!

And they turned and left bearing the sack containing the Prize, as a great wolf sprang upon Kcirrot and Corwyn.

Soon, in a dream like state, the three found themselves some distance from where they had met KC and future-Corwyn, and without speaking they began to dig. Where the shovels had come from they could not be sure ... had they had them all along? Or were they conjured with the enchantment? Or had they been there all along?

Kcirrot and Corwyn struggled with the transformed Gil. At first they sought only to restrain him, but Kcirrot received a mortal blow, and Corwyn unable to restrain Gil, was forced to fight him to the death a second time.

But this was not the same Gil that had bested Corwyn once before. This Gil was a slavering viscious animal, and had to be put down. Corwyn did not hesitate, and soon this awful thing was done.

Kcirrot was gasping his last few breaths: Bury me here .. a tree will grow .. a tree will

Kcirrot was gone.

Using his hands, Corwyn dug a grave for his fallen friends.

----------

Corwyn, Ranger, and Nan had buried the sack and were putting dirt back in the hole when Kcirrot, Brayden, and GilroyKilroy came upon them, on their way to the great contest.

When asked what they were doing, they responded in meaningless silly phrases, and continued with their labors. In a hurry, no one noticed the faint magicks that bound the willing three.

********************************

Continued Excerpts from the Diary of Father Domingo:

I know my time is short, and I wish to conclude this tale before I am finished.

As I have said, It was Nan who told me of the tale's true ending. My own memories of those days are foggy and confused, as is everyones who lived during those times, for the time-fold was not perfect, and there were strange overlaps.

Bordael, it is said, appeared before his past self. No words were spoken, none were needed. He merged with himself and was one. Of that, there is no more to say.

Kcirrot and Gil were dead, yet their former selves lived on, unaware of the events that had transpired.

Corwyn was no fool; he realized there was only room for one Corwyn in this altered world. He changed his appearance as best he could and left Tunaria for parts unknown. Before he left, he went back to that secret glade where he had buried his friends. A sapling already grew there, ash white. Corwyn smiled at this.

When the Healers reached the stadium they found it demolished, and the event cancelled. They were not bothered by this, in fact, most had a strange sense of relief. A few of them even had strange dreams of death and dying at the hands of their friends - and later it was discovered that dueling was now possible. Even Bordael could not unwork the breaking of the Sacred Compact. So this thing was done, though none truly knew why.

None .. save one. Nan knew.

He had resisted the Geas placed upon him by Kcirrot, and of all peoples, he alone had unbent memories of what had transpired, though some of it he had to deduce.

Nan has taken my place as Instructor of Martial Arts at Paladin Academy. He alone knows the depths of the Sins of Pride. And he built a mighty fortress in the woods, a place that has no apparent strategic value .. or it has the greatest strategic value of all, for it forever sits atop the most dangerous weapon ever constructed.

I await my final breath with trepidation and gladness. I am old, I am tired, and I have seen enough. I look forward to new mysteries. Nan will guard you now, you may rest easy.

-Father Artorious Domingo, Cleric, Retired Arms Instructor for Paladin Academy

[Rhabuka]

Druids, Clerics, Shamans

(This one has to be my personal fav!)

[Cleric enters sacred secret healer's lounge, throws down mace in disgust]

Druid: What's the matter with you?

Cleric: Do you know where I just spent the last half hour?

Druid: No.

Cleric: Waiting for someone to offer me a group!

Shaman: [looks up from tinker toys] What? Half an hour?!

Druid: Shut up, Shaman, you can't tell time. Cleric, tell me what happened.

Cleric: Well, I tarted myself up, like I always do, and carried my mace, like I always do - even though I will never actually use it - ha ha ha ha ha!

Druid and Shaman: Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Cleric: Ahhhh, yes, that's a rich one that just never gets old, does it? Anyway, there I was, in High Pass, and no one offered me a group! I just stood around!

Shaman: No!

Druid: And how did that make you feel?

Cleric: I felt ... ugly. Unwanted. Un (sob) needed.

Shaman: My God. How awful.

Druid: I wonder ... is this how the other classes feel? When we are in short supply? Do they feel cheapened somehow?

Cleric: What difference does it make?

Druid: Eh?

Cleric: What difference does it make how the laiety feel? We are Healers. They are simply meat puppets who do our bidding. Do they even have feelings??

Druid: True, true. Hope they never find out that's how we really feel ...

Shaman: So what are we going to do?

Druid: I think it's obvious, don't you?

Shaman: [looks around for the obvious]

Druid: No, moron, we will group together.

--------

[At a Deathfist camp...]

Cleric: Ok, we're here.

Shaman: Yes.

Druid: Yes.

[embarrasing silence]

Cleric: Well?

Shaman: Well, what?

Cleric: Do something!

Druid: I already buffed you, what else do you want?

Cleric: We need to kill something, don't we?!

Druid: *cough* Yes.

Cleric: So go get one! What do they call that? Pulling?

Druid: Rriiiggghhhttt ... you run up to a mob, say something insulting and then it chases you back, right? Then it dies, we heal, and do it all over again.

Cleric: Yes. So who is going to do that first part?

Shaman: Which first part?

Druid: The pulling.

Shaman: Whoa! Not me! I could get killed! I may be dumb, but I ain't stupid.

Druid: Hey, don't look at me, this is more of a Leisure Suit than a Suit of Armor.

Cleric: What, and that makes it my job?

Shaman: You do have real armor.

Druid: And that mace you are so fond of. I don't think you've ever used it, have you? Plus, "the best Rez in the game", if I recall correctly.

[ ... TO BE CONTINUED ... ]

Deathfist Champion: Are those three jackasses really arguing over which one will pull us?

Deathfist Cleric: Sounds like it. Normally I can't detect a Player until they are right in front of me, but I think half the Citadel can hear them now.

Deathfist Champion: We could just attack them all now, but, honestly, I'd like to see how it plays out.

Deathfist Cleric: I already know how it will play out - the Cleric will pull and you will be killed.

Deathfist Champion: Hmmm. And how do you know that? Divine Ispiration? Like the time you thought we should relocate to Freeport?

Deathfist Cleric: Common sense. The Cleric is a Cleric, just like me.

Deathfist Champion: [pauses] And?

Deathfist Cleric: ... And Clerics are the most powerful, most cunning, most terrifyingly ruthless beings ever created.

Deathfist Champion: [laughing] How do you figure that?!

Deathfist Cleric: Hey, a couple updates ago, I was made able to chain nuke, w/ out regard to my actual mana level, I can buff you and myself, I can debuff enemies, I can see them thru walls (sometimes), heck, a whole list of cool stuff. What can you do? Punch real hard?

Deathfist Champion: (Grumbles) You never spoke like that to me before.

[ ... What will happen next?! Stay Tuned!! ... ]

Cleric: What about your pet, Shaman? Can't it do anything?

Shaman: Oh, no - not Mister Whiskers! Leave him out of this!

Druid: Cleric, it won't be so bad. I'll turn us all into wolves, we'll be much scarier.

Shaman: Ewww! I don't wanna be a wolf. I have wolf pets too. I don't wanna be my own pet. Besides, I can turn into a huge bear.

Cleric: OK, swell, just you and me will be wolves, Druid.

Druid: Actually, no, I will turn into a Tree.

Shaman: A tree? Really? Like a Treant?

Druid: Not like a Treant, no.

Cleric: Ah, more like a Withered then.

Druid: Um, no, not like a Withered.

Shaman: Ah, I get it, like a Green Thumb!

Druid: No, not like a Green Thumb.

Cleric: A Tree Spirit? Oakbrow?

Druid: No.

[more embarrasing silence]

Druid: It's just a tree, ok? With a face and arms. Yes, it looks like every other tree-monster in Norrath. But it doesn't move or attack.

Cleric: Oh. So it's ... useless?

Druid: Well, I wouldn't characterize it quite like that, you see ...

Shaman: It's not useless!

[Druid and Cleric look at the Shaman]

Shaman: It's like a Port-o-Potty for when we are in animal form!

Druid: All right! Fine then! I will assume Sprite-form! [Druid turns himself into a Sprite]

Sprite: [in squeaky Sprite voice] See? Now I am much more powerful!

Shaman: Ha! I've taken dumps bigger than you! Speaking of which - would you mind becoming a tree for a minute or two, please?

Cleric: I'm beginning to see why I never grouped with you two exotic healer variants before ...

[Cleric in wolf-form, Druid in Sprite-form, Shaman in Bear-form ...]
Cleric: Woof! Er, I mean, here I go!

Shaman: Don't worry, Dog! I got your back! Hey, I sound like Randy from American Idol!

[Cleric trots over to a 15' tall Deathfist]

Cleric: [to self] This will be easy. I'll get his attention, then use wolf-speed to get behind my buddies before he can hit me.

Cleric: Hey, buddy! Tell you Mother and your Sister I want them out of my house, right now!

Deathfist: What?! Why you little ... !

Pow! Bam! Pow! Bash!

Cleric: [flat on back, sucking wind] Ow! Son of a ... ! That really hurts!

[Shaman and Druid send in high powered heals]

Deathfist: Hmm! So, smart mouth, you have allies, eh? Well, in reward for your callous slurs, they too shall be dealt a dark reckoning, forthwith!

[Deathfist runs to Shaman, begins pummelling him]

Deathfist: Take that! And that! And that! And one more, because I can quad!

Shaman: Aaarrgh!

Druid: Foolish Deathfist! You are doomed!

Deathfist: [looking around] WHO SAID THAT!?

Druid: I did!

Deathfist: Who?

Druid: Me! Down here!

Deathfist: How cute! A doll! Complete with little wooden shoes! My daughter will love you!

Druid: I am no mere child's plaything! I am a Battle Sprite! Try this! [Druid zaps Deathfist]

Deathfist: Yikes! Better teach you some manners.

[Deathfist grabs Sprite by little legs, and beats him against a rock like peasant women might have beaten laundry ...]

[ ... LATER, at Deathfist's House ... Druid finds himself surrounded by other dolls, seated at a miniature table ... ]

Deathfist's Daughter: We'll have a tea party now, but later, Mr. Flowers, you and Mrs. Hackstone will get married!

Druid: Which one is she again?

[ ... LATER, in Deathfist detention center, Shaman and Cleric are meeting thier fellow inmates ... ]

Viscious cut-throat Inmate#1: I like the little one, he's so petite and delicate.

Viscious cut-throat Inmate#2: Fine, I'll take the big one - more to love there anyway.

Shaman: My momma says I'm just big-boned.

Cleric: Oh Shaman, please be quiet.

[Rhabuka]

The Necromancer

Necromancer: Look everyone! I am the master of life and death! Look at all the cool undead things I can summon!

Everyone else: Ewww! Gross! Yuck! Disgusting!

Necromancer: This one [pointing to a Mummyish-looking fellow] can make you sick!

Everyone else: He's already making me sick, he looks like a botched autopsy, I wanna hurl! Gross me out! Those bones might be my Grandma!

Necromancer: [dejected] I am so misunderstood. No one likes me. I will never have a friend.

Ancient Death: [puts hand on Nec's shoulder] screech-You'll always have me-screech

{play Stand By Me in the background}

{they walk into the sunset}

[Rhabuka]

Shadowknight meets Paladin: The Sum of All Fears

[In the Tank's Lounge in High Pass, a conversation can be overheard ...]

Shadowknight: I am so confused.

Paladin: Oh? Why is that?

SK: Well, clearly, as a class, I am meant to use 2-handed weapons. Sure, I don't have to, I could use a 1-hander and a shield, but then I can't use my Strike abilities, which are the cornerstone of any SK's powers.

Warrior: So what's the problem? Use a 2-hander.

SK: Well, it's my 17-Quest reward, the Harpoon of Malice. It's a 1-hander. Here it is, one of the nicest weapons you can have for that level, but really sort of useless since I can't use my main combat ability with it.

Paladin: That's crazy! I have the same problem!

SK: Eh?

Paladin: Yes! My class is clearly meant to use a shield. We get all kinds of self-buffs that require a shield be equipped, and one of our best attacks is actually with a shield.

Warrior: You hit things ... with a ... shield? But ...

Paladin: Later. Anyway, to not use a shield is to throw away a significant portion of our powers. So what do we get for quest rewards? 2-handed weapons! For my 17-Quest, I got an Ahlspiess of Virtue, which I used maybe twice, before going back to my 1-hander and shield.

SK: Ahlspiess? Vas ist das?

Paladin: Uh, think of a sewing needle about 4 feet long. Couldn't just be a nice sword, no sir, it's gotta be a sewing needle.

SK: Unbelievable! It's like the Gods really goofed up when they made these quests!

Warriors: Yeah! Maybe Paladins should get a "Harpoon of Virtue" and SKs should get an "Ahlspiess of Malice"! That would sure make more sense! Beats working hard for items you can't use without gimping yourself in the process!

Paladin: If only there was someway to communicate this to the Powers Above.

SK: Maybe we'll get lucky and they will hear of this conversation.

Warrior: Yeah. Meantime, show me how you hit something with your shield, I think that would be a cool trick to know.

Paladin: Sure, if you will show me that foot-thing again. What was it called?

Warrior: "Kick".

*************************

An addition by our good friend Pnut...

Rogue mistakenly walks into the tank lounge, looks around the room and see's some old victim's err friends, before he can fully turn around and walk out a light bulb goes off and he puts on a mask.

Warrior: Hey buddy what the heck are you? you look a little scrawny to be in here.

Shadowknight: <Raises an eyebrow> though you do look a little familiar.

Paladin: Down boy, he seems like a good enuff fellow.

Rogue: I couldn't help hearing your discussion and think after getting that Rigo Dartar earring in the Oasis I can realte to your woes. But I have the answer to all of your prayers right here in my bag.

<rogue fumbles around for a moment and starts pulling weapon after weapon out of his sack, (spilling quite a pile of tunar on the ground in the process)>

Warrior: wow look at all that money, I am always broke after handing over my tithing to Blacksmith Local 420!

Shadowknight and Paladin together: Hear hear!

Rogue: <cough> <cough> ahem as I was saying, I have the answer to all of your needs right here, weapons I made myself! They are not quite as good but they don't get beat up as quickly and they come in an assortment of colours flavours and sizes.

Shadowknight: <picks up a venomous two handed sword> Let me see that.

Paladin: you have anything in a fire casting bla..

Warrior: Is that a lefthanded shortsword...

Rogue: <looks up at the plane of sky and hopes these fools can't see his wide smile behind his mask>

[Rhabuka]

Why Corwyn was Fired

Not related to EQ but...

Once upon a time, in a great city referred to as the Capital, the mighty Corwyn agreed to write programs for Dan, and his obsequious toady, Jim.

Jim had a permanent reservation on Dan's backside, and smooching was a talent he had cultivated for perhaps his entire life.

One day, a technical conference was advertised in another city, and many mysterious tech-things were to be discussed. Clearly, much could be learned, many dark inner workings exposed.

AND Corwyn went unto them and saith: "Send me, oh supervisors, that I may increase my powers in your service."

BUT they saith: "Nay. For Managers who know nothing of these Arts must go, for it is a good time, paid for by the Company, that may be spent in foreign Restaurants and Ball Games."

BUT Corwyn objectith: "Lords, what of the potential windfall of knowledge to be gained from yonder workings and doings?"

THEN they sayeth: "Get thee back to thy cubicle, oh replaceable programmer, lest in our wrath we smite thee."

AND Corwyn did retire to his cube, but anger burned within.

AND then it came upon them that only a few Managers could go, and Dan would go, but he would not take Jim who smoocheth His posterior so satisfactorily. Nay, he would taketh Karen of the burning red hair, and they would go and enjoy the fine wines of that far off place, and Dan would see what he could see ...

AND Jim was not happy about it, wink-wink, nod-nod, but he RECOGNIZED that with Dan gone, Jim was now in charge.

But CORWYN, whom in thier arrogance they had quickly forgotten, was not to be put aside so easily.

Recognizing Jim's devout need to suckle to Dan, Corwyn devised a scheme. Vengeance would be Corwyn's on this week of missing management.

Corwyn crafted a program of much cunning. It would monitor the system for Jim's presence, and if detected, it would send random messages of the ilk: "User Dan is trying to PHONE you on node XYZ" and "E-Mail on node XYZ from user Dan - marked URGENT" and a few others, and they would harass Jim until he logged off. Eight hours a day, for five straight days. Jim's insufferable insecurities would require a mad scramble to re-establish contact with the caboose he knew so well, but it was a fleeing phantom, a ghost, a whisper on the wind.

Corwyn knew vast happiness.

Until ...

[Rhabuka]

The Dancing Bard

[Scene: enter on Bard and Rogue having a vivid discussion ...]

Bard: Nope, I refuse to even try.

Rogue: Why? Kick really seems to be all the rage. If I can ever master it, I will be in demand - I just know it!

Bard: I already use my feet in a fight. Look, here's my Jig of Utter Confusion.

[And the Bard did a strange dance, and the rogue acknowledged - yes, it was indeed a confusing thing the Bard had done]

Rogue: OK, um, apart from that ...

Bard: Nay, friend Rogue, witness now the sultry power enhancing Dance of Janet Jackson.

[And another mind-numbing series of moves were performed, and in the end, the Bard exposed part of his chest]

Rogue: Uh, what does that do?

Bard: It enhances your Mana! You may not know it, but you now have more mana than you did before!

Rogue: Really?

Bard: Oh, yes. Absolutely.

Rogue: How can you tell?

Bard: Well, all the others always want me to join thier groups and do that dance. When I asked why, they said it was for mana.

Rogue: Oh.

[Later ...]

Rogue: Yeah, so anyway, he did this weird dance ...

Wizard: The sultry power-enhancing Dance of Janet Jackson?

[Everybody breaks into laughter]

Rogue: I don't get it, what's the joke?

Enchanter: That dance doesn't do anything! It just looks ridiculous!

Warrior: Yeah, never underestimate the value of comic relief on a long grind.

Rogue: [under his breath] I cannot believe they still prefer that clown to me ...

[Rhabuka]

A Dark Elf Visits Forkwatch, by Battledancer

Forkwatch Guard 1: "There! Did you see that?"

Forkwatch Guard 2: "Ah yes, that is a rather large green goo, isn't it?"

Forkwatch Guard 1: "Not the slime, you twit...There, I saw it again!"

Forkwatch Guard 2: "Yes, yes...I see it now. Is that what I think it is?"

Forkwatch Guard 1: "Don't point you fool! You know our orders. Stand still. Very still."

Forkwatch Guard 2: "Oops...sorry. I know, I know...think British."

Forkwatch Guard 1: muttering under breath "Psst...here he comes. Ohhh, he's a young one."

Dark Elf Wizard: standing at a safe distance "Pardon the intrustion, Good Sirs. I seek the Manor of Darvar. I was told of an Inn as well, called the Black Swan. Is it near?"

Forkwatch Guard 2: "The Beatles...Bad Teeth...Bond, James Bond...God Save the Queen...."

Forkwatch Guard 1: "Groovy baby, yeah!"

Dark Elf Wizard: "Are the two of you all right? Really, I just need directions to the Manor of Darvar." scratches chin and thinks to himself "They haven't moved an inch...how...intriguing"

[-The young Dark Elf moves a little closer, perhaps feeling these chaps are under some sort of enchantment-]

Dark Elf Wizard: "Look, I j...."

sMaCk...CrUnCh...sTaB..."OUCHIES"...PuMmEL...pOkE....WhAcK...tHrUsT...

Dark Elf Wizard: "Hello again, Spiritmaster."

[-back in Forkwatch-]

Forkwatch Guard 1: "Hehe, I just love that! Did you see how huge his eyes got!"

Forkwatch Guard 2: "Tea time...Wot, wot? Lennox Lewis...The Beatles..."

Forkwatch Guard 1: "Ok cut that out! Be at ease, there's no others in sight."

Forkwatch Guard 2: "Oh yes, so sorry. Just keeping in practice for the next time!"

[-both share a chuckle and the gloom of the bleak day has been lifted just a slight bit-]