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Great Big Death story of MRkorth!

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  • Great Big Death story of MRkorth!

    Maarkoth the Destroyer surveyed the flaming fields of battle as his face cracked into a wide, toothy smile with many teeth showing. Anyone close enough to his heavily scarred visage would immediately notice the fangs that stuck out from his mouth as well as his horrendous breath, which smelled like the charred flesh of his enemies. Because it was.

    “Today I will bring new peace to this land I have crushed beneath my large, iron boot,” Maarkoth the Destoryer said to his army of ninja beast-men. “I have fought bravely a many brave battle and this day I will plant my ancient., magic, battlesword “Eyeslasher” into the ground here at the site of battle and will forever more be a beacon to those enemies who would rise against us!!”

    The beastman rose as one to chant “Markroth! Markroth!” Markroth the Detoyer then raised his battlesowrd “The Eyeslasher” high into the flaming red sky before slamming…


    Sir Edward Howell, Minister of the Interior, was taking tea in his quarters when a red-faced assistant stepped into the room.

    “Sir Edward,” he said. “Terribly sorry to bother you but we think the Americans have declared war”

    Howell lowered his teacup and stared a moment.

    “You “think?” That’s really not the sort of thing one generally wonders about, Smith.” he replied. He beckoned for the papers.

    “I’m very sorry to be vague but I think these will help clear things up,” Smith said as he handed Howell the notes. Howell squinted at the papers a few moments and then looked up.

    “This can’t be real,” he said. “Whose idea of a joke is this?”

    “I assure you they’re genuine. They came directly from the American embassy.”

    Howell flipped through the paperwork and shook his head.

    “They’re demanding fifty-thousand gold a year? This is absurd.” Howell shifted in his seat. “They want our eight largest cities as well as all our extra resources? Who the hell is this Markroth?”

    Smith shrugged.

    “We’ve no idea,” he said. “Perhaps he has supplanted President Lincoln. Regardless, this does seem official.”

    “Official?” Howell snorted. “It looks like it was scrawled by a three-year-old. And besides, we’ve had nothing but peace with the Americans for more than five thousand years.” He tossed the papers on a nearby table and stood up.

    “This is rubbish,” he said. “The Americans absolutely rely on our exports. If it weren’t for the British fur industry the American government would dissolve into anarchy.”

    “Perhaps they’ve acquired their own sources of luxury items?” Smith suggested.

    “Suppose they have,” Howell countered. “Even so, they’ve nothing to gain by attacking us. Number one, we’ve been their one true ally in all of recorded history.”

    “And number two?” Smith asked.

    “Number two is that as far as military readiness goes they’re a thousand years behind us,” Howell said. “While we’ve garrisoned our cities with modern infantry the Americans are running about with swords and axes. They couldn’t pick a decent fight with us if they tried.”

    “They’ve tried,” said a voice at the door. Howell and Smith turned as Edna Davenport, Director of Foreign Affairs, came into the room.

    “I beg your pardon?” Howell said.

    “The Americans,” she said. “They’ve attacked Manchester.”
    Last edited by Jeremy; March 23, 2002, 01:02.

  • #2
    Maarkroth the Destoryer stood on top of the top of a lonely hill and looked down at the cities of England. His sword “Eyecrusher” was nearby.

    “You will soon feel my crushing might and iron boot you English people!!” he bellowed in great rage and fire.

    “I will send my great weapons of pain and death upon you and you will beg me for your life!”

    The ninja beast men yelled a great “Hurrah!” and smashed their swords against their shields. They made a lot of noise doing that.


    The English advisory council convened in London. War with America was the only topic.

    “I’ve copied the document delivered to us by the American embassy,” Edward Howell began. “Regardless of the numerous grammatical errors and the overall…tone…of the piece, it appears to be genuine.”

    “And as you heard this morning, the Americans moved against our Eastern border last night at Manchester,” Edna Davenport said. “We were caught off guard but that didn’t seem to matter. The Americans arrived at our gates with a brace of unguarded catapults. We seized them immediately of course.”

    “And did what? Put them a museum?” Howell asked. “Honestly, what purpose does this attack serve?”

    “Well, several of their larger cities have succumbed to rioting,” Davenport said. “Presumably due to our trade cutoffs.”

    Howell sighed deeply.

    “We’ve really no choice but to defend ourselves,” he said. “It will take some time to get our forces in place but when we do…”

    He paused to gather his thoughts.

    “Well, when we do get our forces together…it will be just a matter of time.”


    Maarkrooth spitted on his army generals, the ones who said it was okay to attack with the catapults all alone.

    “I will wear your heads on my belt you ignorant fools!” he said. His eyes grew red with anger and smoke flew from his pointed ears.

    “But Master Markroth, we did not know this would happen!” the army men begged their great leadrer.

    “Fools! We have no more weapons but our great number of warriors! Send them now to crush our enemies the English and their leader Elisabet!!”


    Colin Jones was the first to see them. He and another guard were standing watch on the outskirts of Manchester when the first warrior came bounding down a hill and across the plains leading to the city gates.

    “Hey, Trev, take a look at that,” Jones said. The other guard, Trevor Davis, looked up from the newspaper he was reading.


    Jones pointed toward the fields.

    “See that man with the axe out there? I think it’s an American,” he said.

    Davis nodded and went back to his newspaper. Jones continued watching the warrior. Before long, more warriors had joined the first. It appeared to Jones that an attack was imminent.

    “Don’t you think we should do something?” he asked.

    “What?” Davis replied.

    “Don’t you think we should do something? About the attack, I mean,” Jones said. “We are guards, right?”

    Davis put down his paper and picked up his rifle.

    “All right, mister slave-driver, you win,” he said. “But you’re buying me a pint after this shift.”


    Maarkrothh the Destoryer stood at the head of his table in his headquarters. He pulled a long blade from the chest of his top general.

    “You died like a pig since you ARE a pig, you pig!” he cursed and swore. “All the warriors we sent were killed by guys with guns!”

    He swung around and saw his other generals, who were all cowering in fear.

    “Why don’t we have guns!?!” he yelled at them. “And why are all of our towns freaking out?”

    “Master Markroth the Destroyer, we have no guns because we have no knowledge of how to make them. And our cities are rioting because we have no furs to keep them happy. We got all of the furs from the English,” said one brave General. Marrkroth through a blade at him in rage.

    “I don’t want to here your excuses!! You will win me a town of the English now or I will kill you dead right now with my magic sword!! Even if I have to go back and pull it out of the ground!”


    When Gerald Roth arrived from work that night he wanted nothing but a bottle of Michelob and a few hours of Civving. He checked on his son and found him lost in some wild fighting game on the Playcube. He got a half-hearted “Hi, dad,” between furious button-pushing.

    The beer was still foaming in the mug when he loaded the latest save game. Nothing to do all weekend, Gerald thought, but kick a little English butt.

    The save game loaded and Gerald froze. The screen was a sea of orange - the English were everywhere. Nearly all of his cities had been seized and those that had not were a few turns from being overrun. The game was over.

    “Mark,” he said weakly. “Have you been playing with daddy’s computer?”


    • #3
      LOL... I hate being the English...

      *Wants to have a Civ that isn't the English*


      • #4
        LOL amazing story! Kurosei, you know that in the succession game i set it to random civ so i ma not to blame, right?


        • #5
          If we play another succession game, can we have a Civ that doesn't have the Exploration Personality? Personally, I find that personality useless...


          • #6
            Very funny story...Great twist too!
            Any more stories comin from ya soon?
            "Listen lad. I built this kingdom up from nothing. When I started here, all there was was swamp. All the kings said I was daft to build a castle in the swamp, buit I built it all the same just to show 'em. It sank into the swamp. So, I built a second one. That sank into the swamp. So I built a third one. That burnt down, fell over and then sank into the swamp, but the fourth one stayed up. And that's what you're gonna get, lad, the strongest castle in these isles."
            - Swamp King (Monty Python and the Holy Grail)


            • #7
              Originally posted by Sovy Kurosei
              If we play another succession game, can we have a Civ that doesn't have the Exploration Personality? Personally, I find that personality useless...
              "we play another succession game"?????????????????????? I am NEVER playing another succession game with you!!!


              • #8
                Whats wrong with playing a succession game with me


                • #9
                  Thanks for the comments, everyone.

                  ElDiablo, I've got another six or eight Civ stories in various stages of completion right now. This one has been 95% done since at least December. This is the second story I've posted here so if my rate stays the same you'll see another one sometime in July.


                  • #10
                    Ah...definite chuckle factor in this one.
                    Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *


                    • #11
                      bump (story contest)


                      • #12


                        • #13

                          Just when I was starting to root for the evil guy...
                          "You're the biggest user of hindsight that I've ever known. Your favorite team, in any sport, is the one that just won. If you were a woman, you'd likely be a slut." - Slowwhand, to Imran

                          Eschewing silly games since December 4, 2005


                          • #14
                            MRkorth was actually going to respond to this himself but he's still trying to pull his sword "Eyeslittrer" from the ground. It seems he stuck it in there pretty good.


                            • #15
                              You had me laughing out loud. Hilarious story.
                              Do you believe in Evil? The Nefarious Mr. Butts
                              The continuing saga of The Five Nations
                              A seductress, an evil priest, a young woman and The Barbarian King