Fighting Fantasy
Recently, my dear friend Mike gave me the smackdown for pointing to other folks' hosted images on their respective sites in this blog and on my own website. As always, his argument was well-reasoned and delivered with precision and tact.
Nonetheless, I felt crappy and was turned off posting for a while.
I plan to address Mike's comments in a future post, but for now (and to appease his misgivings), I present an IMAGE-FREE post with the help of my dear friend Dave.
It's more silly fantasy one-upmanship, so if that fails to crank your turn, do come back another time.
Below, Dave's bold and I, not.
Opening Swipes
REPLENISH YOUR MANA!
SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY APPLIED FORTITUDE.
MY VITALITY RATING ALLOWS ME TO DRINK AT THE BAR LONGER THAN YOU CAN!
CLEARLY YOU WILL CAPITULATE UNDER THE FORCE OF MY DESCENDING RAZORED PIKE.
AN ADDITIONAL STRENGTH POINT ENABLES ME 12 MORE POUNDS OF UNENCUMBERED LOAD BEARING!
FIFTEEN PENALTIES TO YOUR INITIATIVE ENSURE A SUCCESSFUL COLLISION OF MY BURNISHED STEEL WITH YOUR FILTH-PEBBLED CHIN.
YOUR MODERATE DEXTERITY IS NOT ENOUGH TO AVOID HURLED POISON DARTS TO YOUR LOWER ABDOMEN AND SIDE!
A SIMPLE APPLICATION OF MY ACCUMULATED AGILITY BONUSES AFFORDS ME AN EXCELLENT EVASIVE TECHNIQUE THAT STILL MANAGES TO EFFECT SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE TO YOUR AGGREGATE SELF-WORTH.
THE STACKING MODIFIERS TO MY DODGE MANEUVER ALLOW FOR A GRACEFUL BACKWARDS ROLL OVER YOUR CLOVEN HEAD TO THE RELATIVE SAFETY OF RESPITE CLOISTER.
MULTIPLE FLURRIES OF DAMNING BLOWS REVERBERATE AGAINST YOUR CRANIUM AS I UNLEASH "RAMPANT BLUDGEONING" WITH SAVING THROW.
I PERFECTLY EXECUTE THE "DOWNWARD SLASHING" TECHNIQUE, WITH MODIFIER, AFFORDED BY MY "RING OF AGGRESSION", SUCCESSFULLY ROUTING YOU BACK TO THE DURANCE OF BLOOD FLESH.
I TUMBLE TO THE SIDE WITH INCREASED ATHLETICS, SORTING OUT YOUR INNER ORGANS AS I PRY THEM ALL AT ONCE FROM YOUR GAPING GULLET, FOREMOST RUINED EFFORTLESSLY WITH A FEW FLICKS OF MY STILETTO DAMPENING HATRED PROTRUSIONS.
Reconsidered Tactics
FIVE ADVENTURERS MET A SWIFT END IN THE BLAUDDENS' EMPORIUM OF MEATS.
THE TROLLS DESCENDED AT MEANS END.
THREE UNWORTHY KOBOLDS BICKER.
SEVERAL FARMERS FARM.
A GATHERING OF ORCS WRESTLE WITH VARIOUS CONCEPTS.
FIFTY DRAGONS CONSIDER RETIREMENT.
THE YELLOWED CYCLOPS SITTING DEJECTED AND FORELORN; SNIFFLES SLIGHTLY.
PRINCESS ALLEMIEN FELT A RUSH OF PITY AT VIEWING THE DOMESTICATED BASILISK.
THE ORC LEADER WAS GIVEN PAUSE WHILE OBSERVING THE DEATH PIT FROM ABOVE. THIS WASN'T THE ANSWER AT ALL!
THE TIRED OGRE PERUSED HIS BOUND VICTIMS. HE REALLY WASN'T UP TO EVISCERATION TONIGHT.
THE GRYPHON PECKED LISTLESSLY AT THE CAPTIVE BUGBEAR. THIS REPETITIVE ROUTINE WAS ALL IT HAD LEFT.
AFTER A FORTNIGHT OF CAREFUL CONSIDERATION, SIR BALLYHOO TOSSED HIS GRAPPLING HOOK OVER THE MOAT AND ONTO YON RAMPART.
THE FOUR ORC CAPTAINS KNEW THE PRICE WOULD BE THEIR SCALPS IF EVER THEIR HAIKU CLUB WERE REVEALED TO THE TRIBE.
TAKING A DEEP BREATH, THE FUZZY BLOODWORM SLOPPED TOWARD HIS INTENDED MATE. WOULD THE EXPENSIVE EROGENOUS POLLEN DO WELL BY HIM THIS DAY?
THE OCHRE JELLY KNEW WELL THE REPERCUSSIONS OF DIGESTING ONE OF ITS OWN HIVE AND WOULD HAVE CURSED THE TRANSLUCENCY OF ITS OWN FORM HAD IT ONLY A MOUTH TO DO SO.
The Final Round
AS CLOSE TO FIERCELY AS POSSIBLE, THE UNDERAGE PIXIE LIFTED THE DOUBLE-HANDED AXE, CERTAIN HER INSOLENCE WOULD NOT GO UNPUNISHED.
THE MOVEMENTS OF THE CYCLOPS SLOWED, THE RUDE CLUB LOWERED AS HIS MILKY, CATARACT-ORB SCANNED THE ONCE BUSTLING GNOME VILLAGE. THE SMALL VALLEY WAS A RIOT OF TWISTED ABODES AND FLATTENED TINYLINGS. ONLY THE OCCASIONAL ONE TWITCHED STILL AND A TWINGE OF REGRET TICKLED AT THE MOUTH OF THIS BEHEMOTH. A SUBTLE FEELING HE COULD NOT PINPOINT NOR FINGER THE CAUSE OF. IT WAS OVER.
THE PROUD GRYPHON WOULD NOT STOOP TO CONSUMING THE POORLY-DRESSED NOBLE. TO HADES WITH THIS LOW-BORN SCHLEP. IT WAS BENEATH HIM.
THE BEHOLDER HOVERED QUIETLY IN THE GLOOM, KNOWING WELL HE WOULD NOT BE SPOTTED BY WARY ADVENTURERS INVADING HIS LAIR EVEN NOW! THE FIGHT HAD LEFT HIM AFTER NEWS OF HIS ACUTE ASTIGMATISM.
THE RAZORED TITMOUSE BURROWED UP SIR BALLYWOGGLE, MAKING THE TRANSITION FROM TROUSERS TO INTESTINES WITH A FAIRLY EXPEDITED SNIP AND TUCK.
Post-mortem: I'm not sure who won.
Nonetheless, I felt crappy and was turned off posting for a while.
I plan to address Mike's comments in a future post, but for now (and to appease his misgivings), I present an IMAGE-FREE post with the help of my dear friend Dave.
It's more silly fantasy one-upmanship, so if that fails to crank your turn, do come back another time.
Below, Dave's bold and I, not.
Opening Swipes
REPLENISH YOUR MANA!
SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY APPLIED FORTITUDE.
MY VITALITY RATING ALLOWS ME TO DRINK AT THE BAR LONGER THAN YOU CAN!
CLEARLY YOU WILL CAPITULATE UNDER THE FORCE OF MY DESCENDING RAZORED PIKE.
AN ADDITIONAL STRENGTH POINT ENABLES ME 12 MORE POUNDS OF UNENCUMBERED LOAD BEARING!
FIFTEEN PENALTIES TO YOUR INITIATIVE ENSURE A SUCCESSFUL COLLISION OF MY BURNISHED STEEL WITH YOUR FILTH-PEBBLED CHIN.
YOUR MODERATE DEXTERITY IS NOT ENOUGH TO AVOID HURLED POISON DARTS TO YOUR LOWER ABDOMEN AND SIDE!
A SIMPLE APPLICATION OF MY ACCUMULATED AGILITY BONUSES AFFORDS ME AN EXCELLENT EVASIVE TECHNIQUE THAT STILL MANAGES TO EFFECT SIGNIFICANT DAMAGE TO YOUR AGGREGATE SELF-WORTH.
THE STACKING MODIFIERS TO MY DODGE MANEUVER ALLOW FOR A GRACEFUL BACKWARDS ROLL OVER YOUR CLOVEN HEAD TO THE RELATIVE SAFETY OF RESPITE CLOISTER.
MULTIPLE FLURRIES OF DAMNING BLOWS REVERBERATE AGAINST YOUR CRANIUM AS I UNLEASH "RAMPANT BLUDGEONING" WITH SAVING THROW.
I PERFECTLY EXECUTE THE "DOWNWARD SLASHING" TECHNIQUE, WITH MODIFIER, AFFORDED BY MY "RING OF AGGRESSION", SUCCESSFULLY ROUTING YOU BACK TO THE DURANCE OF BLOOD FLESH.
I TUMBLE TO THE SIDE WITH INCREASED ATHLETICS, SORTING OUT YOUR INNER ORGANS AS I PRY THEM ALL AT ONCE FROM YOUR GAPING GULLET, FOREMOST RUINED EFFORTLESSLY WITH A FEW FLICKS OF MY STILETTO DAMPENING HATRED PROTRUSIONS.
Reconsidered Tactics
FIVE ADVENTURERS MET A SWIFT END IN THE BLAUDDENS' EMPORIUM OF MEATS.
THE TROLLS DESCENDED AT MEANS END.
THREE UNWORTHY KOBOLDS BICKER.
SEVERAL FARMERS FARM.
A GATHERING OF ORCS WRESTLE WITH VARIOUS CONCEPTS.
FIFTY DRAGONS CONSIDER RETIREMENT.
THE YELLOWED CYCLOPS SITTING DEJECTED AND FORELORN; SNIFFLES SLIGHTLY.
PRINCESS ALLEMIEN FELT A RUSH OF PITY AT VIEWING THE DOMESTICATED BASILISK.
THE ORC LEADER WAS GIVEN PAUSE WHILE OBSERVING THE DEATH PIT FROM ABOVE. THIS WASN'T THE ANSWER AT ALL!
THE TIRED OGRE PERUSED HIS BOUND VICTIMS. HE REALLY WASN'T UP TO EVISCERATION TONIGHT.
THE GRYPHON PECKED LISTLESSLY AT THE CAPTIVE BUGBEAR. THIS REPETITIVE ROUTINE WAS ALL IT HAD LEFT.
AFTER A FORTNIGHT OF CAREFUL CONSIDERATION, SIR BALLYHOO TOSSED HIS GRAPPLING HOOK OVER THE MOAT AND ONTO YON RAMPART.
THE FOUR ORC CAPTAINS KNEW THE PRICE WOULD BE THEIR SCALPS IF EVER THEIR HAIKU CLUB WERE REVEALED TO THE TRIBE.
TAKING A DEEP BREATH, THE FUZZY BLOODWORM SLOPPED TOWARD HIS INTENDED MATE. WOULD THE EXPENSIVE EROGENOUS POLLEN DO WELL BY HIM THIS DAY?
THE OCHRE JELLY KNEW WELL THE REPERCUSSIONS OF DIGESTING ONE OF ITS OWN HIVE AND WOULD HAVE CURSED THE TRANSLUCENCY OF ITS OWN FORM HAD IT ONLY A MOUTH TO DO SO.
The Final Round
AS CLOSE TO FIERCELY AS POSSIBLE, THE UNDERAGE PIXIE LIFTED THE DOUBLE-HANDED AXE, CERTAIN HER INSOLENCE WOULD NOT GO UNPUNISHED.
THE MOVEMENTS OF THE CYCLOPS SLOWED, THE RUDE CLUB LOWERED AS HIS MILKY, CATARACT-ORB SCANNED THE ONCE BUSTLING GNOME VILLAGE. THE SMALL VALLEY WAS A RIOT OF TWISTED ABODES AND FLATTENED TINYLINGS. ONLY THE OCCASIONAL ONE TWITCHED STILL AND A TWINGE OF REGRET TICKLED AT THE MOUTH OF THIS BEHEMOTH. A SUBTLE FEELING HE COULD NOT PINPOINT NOR FINGER THE CAUSE OF. IT WAS OVER.
THE PROUD GRYPHON WOULD NOT STOOP TO CONSUMING THE POORLY-DRESSED NOBLE. TO HADES WITH THIS LOW-BORN SCHLEP. IT WAS BENEATH HIM.
THE BEHOLDER HOVERED QUIETLY IN THE GLOOM, KNOWING WELL HE WOULD NOT BE SPOTTED BY WARY ADVENTURERS INVADING HIS LAIR EVEN NOW! THE FIGHT HAD LEFT HIM AFTER NEWS OF HIS ACUTE ASTIGMATISM.
THE RAZORED TITMOUSE BURROWED UP SIR BALLYWOGGLE, MAKING THE TRANSITION FROM TROUSERS TO INTESTINES WITH A FAIRLY EXPEDITED SNIP AND TUCK.
Post-mortem: I'm not sure who won.
Labels: david roberts
posted by Stephen Reese at
2:31 PM
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