Harakiri

Now I am going to have to watch End of Evangelion. I watched the whole anime five times, but I have never seen end. Reading Lone Wolf and Cub and apparently watching End of Evangelion. EDIT: End of Evangelion was an even bigger mind (Expletive) than the last two episodes of the original series. Finals are coming up and I have to study, but with half my brain exploded, I don't think I'll be able to!

It's a game based on the American West, I don't see why it must be spelled the everywhere but America "honour".

Draynor Village ----------------------------------- He stood in the messy bedroom on the second story of the house across from the Draynor Village Bank. His eyes scanned the wood floor for anything suspicious, finding that the pieces of crumpled paper and various books on the occult were not odd enough to warrant questioning. A telescope sat on a tripod poking out of the window, the tripods locking mechanism set at whatever he was looking at. A pad of paper sat on the sill next to it, a pencil lying atop the pad. The telescope was very low, almost parallel to the floor. The man strode toward the telescope and stopped when he heard the creaking of the stairs. There was a quick moment of indecision, followed by action. That action being to sit on the sill and pull a cigarette from the breast pocket of his vest. He snapped his fingers and fire flickered between them. He lit up, shook his hand until the fire was gone, and watched the peculiar old man approach him with a small porcelain tea cup in hand. I see you enjoy cigarettes. The old man wore a blue party hat and glasses with a swirling pattern. He took a quick sup of the tea before he sat down in his armchair in the corner, across from the man. Don't we all? The man asked. I hate them. I think they are only good for tough men who wish to show the world that they will die young, no matter the cause. The man slit his eyes and blew smoke from the side of his mouth. I like them. Best thing I've ever put in my mouth. The best thing I ever had was this thing from the east called sushi. Raw fish wrapped inside rice with local fruits or vegetables. How'd you get to the east? I'm a wizard. I've been everywhere. I used to know a lot of wizards. They stayed in Gielnor. I knew about the eastern lands before most. I was harvesting ectoplasm when the easterners first came ashore. Yeah, that explains everything. The man said sarcastically. Forget I ever said it. Anyways Mr.- Mister is good enough. Not in my house it isn't Snake. We'll skip the formalities and move on to why you are here. So you know me? Enough to find you a threat to my home and my well being. Why'd you let me in then? The fact I wished to talk to you, the fact I enjoy drinking tea with company. He took another sip from the steaming cup. Where is my cup? Snake asked. I know you do not accept food from people you don't know, other than those people working in restaurants. I feel it would be a crying shame to waste a cup of God's drink if you're only going to leave it to cool. From what my drunk buddies tell me, the God's piss beer. And they would be wrong. Now then, let's get off this discussion of what the God's urinate and get to why you are here. Advice. You were snooping about up here. You should know I can see everything in this town. That's how I learned your name and story. You sure love talking to Diango. Old friends. Snake replied. The old man nodded. I know about your exploits before the war and the return of Zamorak. I assumed you came here in order to kill me and cement the fact you are a force to be reckoned with. Most people who see me in the streets know that I am a force to be reckoned with. Now can we get to why I came here. Well, the snooping makes me feel like you are working with the police, the White Knights, with most of the people who suspect me as one of Zamorak's men. I've heard about these things, and decided to take a little look. Just for myself. I don't care about the White Knights or the police or any of those rebel forces. Unless Zamorak comes for me- Which he is in five- The old man murmured. -then I don't care what goes on in the world. Wait, what did you- An explosion rocked the house and Snake fell to the floor before the room fell toward the Draynor Bank. They blew up the bottom of the house! They expect us to die when the second story hits the ground and crumbles onto us! The old man, despite the floor becoming the wall and the window wall becoming the floor, sat parallel to the floor, sipping his tea. The laws of gravity apparently did not affect the old man. Snake cursed. How the hell was he getting out of this with five seconds before the room killed him. Xewleer Crystal Palace ----------------------------- Within the large chamber were floating crystals, emanating a soft light that reflected on the marble floor, inlaid with gold. Standing in the middle of a ring of gold was a man whose face was burnt, crisped. His scalp was bare, bald; his face was scarred beyond repair. And standing in front of him was a tall, lanky man with long black hair and soft green eyes. He wore square spectacles and a white suit with a black tie. I am assuming you are ready for your return to Gielnor, Xewleer? The man in the suit asked. As ambassador from the crystal throne, I will build an alliance with Zamorak for us. Xewleer replied. Do so. And if you do encounter Ratchet again, I believe you are ready to repay him for your face. It's been two years, countless hours of wearing bandages over your face to hide the burns. I think you have learned how the crystal zanbato works. Am I allowed to go out of the way to find that bastard and end him? For you son, I care not. Just come back alive. Yes father. Shall I also bring some of the militia with me? His father shook his head. Soon though. They bowed to each other before the floating crystal lights shut off and encased the room in darkness. Xarosen Unknown Location --------------------------------- And thus, more pawns are put on the board. Xarosen said, watching the world just through the use of both of his eyes. He saw every city, heard every conversation. The Crystal Throne will be destroyed by the other pawns. Zamorak will be defeated by pawns. It will lead to my entering the picture. When shall I dispose of the pawns? When they have finished my work for me. Everything is going to plan and we haven't even pulled out the queen, king, bishop, and all the others. They will be placed on the board soon.

Purging Of A Land Lost To An Angry God Ratchet Varrock -------------------- A slow, monotonous beat rumbled across the ruins. The sound echoed in the heads of every soldier hiding behind the fallen walls of the once great city of Varrock. They were ready for anything, had trained with the greatest generals of the White Knights of Falador. They had placed their banner, the green within red of the rebel regime, around the ruins and atop what used to be the grandest castle in the land. It now stood as a pile of bricks and wood at the very northern edge of the ruins. The moment the beat had started Ratchet smudged out his cigarette in the mud. A light drizzle had been turning the ruins into a soggy mess. Thunder rumbled, lightning exploded forth from the heavens and hearts beat more rapidly with every second that passed. Ratchet knew that the rain was going to get heavier. He knew that for the most of these men, this would be their final resting place. Ratchet lay against a four and a half foot tall wall in the ruins of what used to be the ruins across the street from the Varrock Bank West Branch. Sitting next to him was his long bow, his full quiver next to that. His sword sat in his lap, mud caked on both sides. He used the tattered clothes he had taken from the skeletons that had been piled into a wall that completely encircled the city to clean his blade. The collected skeletons probably had something to do with dark magic, really dark magic, but if the battle were won, the Zamorak mages would not be able to do whatever spell they were setting up as a consequence of being dead. There were two piercing screams that cut the air and Ratchet grabbed his bow and pulled his quiver closer. He took an arrow from it and notched it in his bow. He pulled the string taut and stood from his cover, scanning the area. His heart pounded. The surrounding area was dark, almost too dark for Ratchet to make anything out. Until the rain started to pund harder and a flash of lightning revealed revealed a Zamorakian soldier running for cover across the street, toward what used to be the entrance to the bank. In less than a second, Ratchet loosed the arrow and it slammed through the soldier's neck. He tripped over his feet and fell to the muddy ground, dead. Ratchet fell to one knee as two arrows flew over his head and snapped in half when they hit the crumbling wall behind him. Suddenly, screams could be heard, the thumps of bodies hitting the ground became as steady as the worsening rain, and the whoosh of arrows flying overhead became a constant reminder of the dangers. War was played by children across Gielnor, a game that produced laughter and evoked the thought that war was fun. And then, when the men, thinking they are signing to play a game do get to play a real game of war, they are too dead to realize that their child's game was a frivolous misinterpretation of real war. They see that neither side is laughing, that when an arrow hits you you do not clutch your chest and fall and laugh and end the game with a friendly handshake and a you win. Because when said arrow hits you in the chest in real war, right through your heart, you are in too much agony and too stupefied by the sight of an arrow protruding from your skin and blood gurgling out of your wound, covering your body, to care. Ratchet had played war and wasn't stupid enough to misinterpret what it truly represented. When he had seen his father's body at age seven, head sliced diagonally so only one eye, his nose, and three quarters of his mouth remained, he knew was was something more than a game to settle scores. It was a game to settle a score once and for all. Ratchet grabbed a round pebble from beside his leg and tested it's weight. He then blindly threw it over his cover, hoping it would strike something other than a patch of grass or something soft. It struck the pavement inbetween the bank and Ratchet. Arrows shot toward it and Ratchet was up, aroow notched, and shot toward a ruin to his north-east where he had seen quick motion after loosing an arrow. The arrow struck home, through the enemy soldier's breast and into the heart. The man feel into a puddle and the splash perked the notice of the other shooter. He yelled out, probably the name of his friend, and was then shot through the heart like his buddy. Where the hell were the mages though? Reports said they were coming! And then Ratchet laughed. They had probably killed the men surrounding the cityt. They were probably preparing their dark magic right now, killing their own soldiers, as well as the enemy. Psychos, thought Ratchet. There was another difference between was and a game. In a game you can cheat. But in war, there are no cheats. Ratchet strapped his quiver to his back so the arrows poked over his left shoulder, his bow so it poked over his right, and held his sword vertical to his chest in the traditional fighting stance of the Falador White Knights and ran toward the skeleton wall. Archimage Wizard's Tower -------------------------- There's some bad magic in the air. Archimage stood in the library of the Wizard's Tower, pacing back and forth in front of the elder wizards seated at a teak table. They watched him intently and were unblinking. And you're solution? Asked one of the wizards, twirling his callused hands in the air. Elder wizards always need solutions and equations with solutions. Archimage grabbed his staff that had been leaning against one of the bookcases. He stared at it's carvings, ancient runes that his father had etched in it so long ago. We only want a solution to our problem and you always seem to have one because every time we have a meeting of the wizards it is you who has the plan, you who has the equations, you who creates the new alchemical equations we use now to summon animals and spirits to our sides. I like to consider them familiars, not animals or spirits. They are an extension of yourself, not created by anything but your own spirit. Archimage walked over to the table and sat lightly on the edge of it. No matter, how do you propose we stop the ritual taking place at Varrock? Archimage sighed. If I were an elder and not just a Watcher of the Keep I would turn a blind eye to the White Knight's. They were stupid to walk into such an easy trap. Seeing as you are not an elder wizard and we wish a solution, perhaps it would be best if we got what we wanted. The eldest mage, sitting at the head of the table, wore spectacles and his left eye was lazy, usually staying on the far left side of his eyehole. My solution is for you to give up on them. The end. Archimage got off the table and started to walk off. Dammit, I'm going to send you out there to stop them alone. Archimage laughed. Kill the Watcher of the Keep and then what? Do you have anyone else qualified to keep watch on the other demi-gods grave sites? If we do have a replacement? The elder wizard asked. Then my arguments are invalid. Archimage said, defeated. Good. The elder wizard waved his arm. Away with you. Homer Inside Varrock --------------------------- Homer bit into the meat and felt tasted ambrosia as blood filled his mouth. He licked his lips before going back into the large hunk of meat, tearing the meat off the bone like some sort of animal. He hadn't left the cellar in seven months, and he was running out of people to eat. He had eaten all the orphans, had eaten all the teachers. The only one left was himself. He needed to find a way out soon. He should probably keep digging that hole he had started months ago... Ratchet Outside of Varrock -------------------------------- Ratchet shot forward like an arrow, so fast that the two attacking mages spell bubbles missed him, smacking into the ground behind him and blowing into fireballs almost too magnificent to turn a blind eye to. The people from the western docks came with these things called fireworks, which Ratchet had seen in action when an ambassador from that far off land came and showed off his amazing inventions to the King and the White Knights. It was funny that he felt more awe at the flames lapping at the air around him then those exploding rockets. The two mages wore the blood red robes of Zamorak and carried staffs etched with pictures of animals and eyes and other occult symbols. They had a boxlike, bluish thing encasing them, a magic shield. It was only penetrable through slow movements, and a fast, hard attack would leave the attacker in a bloody heap as the shield exploded outward, killing everyone except for the user in a twenty foot radius. Ratchet rolled to the left as another fireball was discharged from the top of one of the mages staffs. Ratchet ran to the closest one, the one who shot at him and stopped in front of the shield. Put down the shield boys, let's not make this harder than it should be. The mage laughed. Don't go to hell and blame me for what happened. Ratchet started to slowly lunge his sword through the shield at the center. The mage was preparing a spell when Ratchet let go of the sword. It was stuck halfway through the shield. The other mage... Ratchet looked over his shoulder, noticing that the other mage seemed frozen in the middle of his shield. Something had happened during Ratchet's attack. Ratchet was expecting an attack, hoping for one, but he guessed he would have to do everything himself. Ratchet jumped onto the hilt of the sword and the sword started slicing downwards, fast. The shield exploded, a blue flash that obliterated the landscape. And Ratchet stood before the headless body of the mage. How the hell'd you do that? Came a voice from behind him, edgy, a little older sounding. Used the sword to make my jump higher, so I jumped into the safe box the mage was in. I noticed that the shield had no top, it wouldn't explode upward. Jumped over the shield, used my foot to twirl the sword around as the explosion happened. Fell to the ground just in time to catch the hilt of the sword as it spun to the ground, cut the mage's head off. You knew the shield's blast could only destroy living things? I assumed. If not, I have my quiver. Could have just shoved an arrow through his neck. But being the show off you are and knowing somebody had gotten through that other mage's shield and froze him... Archimage, remember how you used to be a nobody years ago, you and me? How we used to search out ancient texts for the gods? Archimage appeared out of nowhere in front of Ratchet, blue robes damp thanks to the rain. He wore his hood over his head, hiding his face in shadows. An orb floated behind his shoulder, hovering there like an obedient dog. The gods banished us from that place for a reason Ratchet. The moment they sent their assassin after us they put into place what was to happen now. The downfall of Gielnor is inadvertently our fault. I love knowing this. I assume you joined up with the Wizard's Council? The Wizard's Tower? Archimage nodded. I'm the Watcher of the Keep. And you apparently joined with the White Knights once again? Correct. Archimage started walking toward the skeleton wall. Let's finish our jobs before we reminisce, shall we? What about the mage over there? Ratchet pointed toward the statuesque man. I froze him from the inside. He's dead, but the weight of the frozen organs and blood is enough to keep him balanced. Somewhere -------------------------- Thus, the pawns are placed upon the board. The voice was deep, harsh. Two of them at least. They have a lot of catching up to do. This voice was hyena-like. Just hearing the voice of whoever this was, you could tell he was a predator. It's been a year since the start of Gielnor's fall. The moment I walked into their domain and destroyed the place, I started the fall. I shall always be remembered thus. When we rebuild this world from the ground up, they will hail me as messiah, as the man who erased civilization to allow the newest, greatest empire of all time to rise. The empire of you my lord. The rebirth of this world. My brother needs to be taken care of though. We might need to send our pawns after him. Is that the next phase my lord? Yes. They blame Zamorak, but he doesn't even realize that he is just a pawn as well, I have let him come back, I had given you to him, and he will never take Gielnor. It will be mine once again. Lord Saradomin, this whole land will once again be united under the common religion of your creation. It's failure has been the failure of your entire creation, and they must be purged and we must recreate and rebuild what you have lost.

I will friend any TIF people on PSN, Ratchet573's my name. GAMES I OWN AS OF NOW: Red Dead Redemption-One of my favorite games of all time and favorite games of the year. Dragon Age Origins-My favorite RPG, ever. Fallout 3 GOTY- I've had this for months but haven't played it much. MGS 4- Beat it twice. Love it. Little Big Planet GOTY-It's alright, I find it enjoyable inbetween violent online sessions. Rid[bleep]: Escape From Dark Athena- Meh, it's pretty good, but has quite a few problems. Saints Row 2- I usually consider this my favorite game ever, but it's on again off again. In-between having different favorites, this is my favorite. I play tons of RDR online, so I'll join anyone's posse, I'm pretty good.

I bought it a couple days after release because I can't look away from a western-based video game because they are few and far between. For me Red Dead Revolver sucked and the only real good western game was GUN. Then I played this and I literally cannot quit playing it. It has so much stuff to do, such a fun story, and it's online is tons of fun. The world is varied and the random events keep the long rides halfway across the map a bit fresher. I personally find it to be a very, very, very good game. The occasional glitch does occur and the bounties are just too strict (I was doing a mission where you needed to take a safe in a wagon back to Armadillo, accidentally ran over a dog on my way to the end of the mission, and got a five dollar bounty that prompted every body to want to kill me. What the heck?). I am very happy with this and I think this is the best open world game since Saints Row 2. I concur. The graphics aren't the best ever, but I'm apparently one of the few people in this world that believes that graphics don't make a game. The character animations, horse animations, and pretty much the animations of everything are so much more improved from those of GTA4. The frame rate is great for me. There have never been slow downs or anything of the like. I agree that random encounters are hard to understand, I have killed the policeman who is being attacked accidentally but I'm getting used to the different events and can understand how that works. Only problem I have had with spawn points are how they are not dynamic I.E I continually have a guy sniping me as I respawn. Either a skinning cutscene starts or it skips the cutscene and you obtain the items. If the cutscene takes place, it is about fifteen seconds long. That is not way too long to me. Hitch it, and you own it. Every time it dies, you kill yourself, and tah-dah, it's back. I find John Marston to be a stereotypical cowboy character, but I enjoy the character interactions because all the characters are different and Marston views them in different lights, not just as partners, but as outlaws, cheaters, etc. Oblivion was an RPG and those tend to have a lot more focus on NPC's. Because that is a major part of being able to build your own character and pretend like you are said character and this is the real world, you need to have a lot more interaction and a lot more choices with those interactions and how they interact. Same can be said with Fallout 3, Dragon Age, or any other RPG. They tend to fail when you are set on a specific path and made to follow it and continually watch cutscene after cutscene (FFXIII), that dynamicness is there to make it much more realistic. A game like this doesn't need dynamic NPC's because the story is set in stone and you have no way to mess with it. While it may be called an Open World Sandbox game, you are still having to complete missions as the developer intended, stray from their path and the mission fails. Thus, this point is not all that correct. If it were an RPG, I could see your complaint, but since this is a third person shooter at heart, the idea fails. Oh dear god. Why don't we also say that every game that runs on the Unreal Engine should have a label that says: Warning: May contain elements of Unreal Tournament III? Why work with something new when the original formula worked? The gameplay is the same yes. The engine and graphics are the same thing, and while they may be the same, who cares? And who the hell needs the label when anyone who bought the game new they were buying Grand Theft Auto in the west? Why complain because it is reminiscent of a game that worked? Super Mario Galaxy 2 cheated me because they used the same graphics, elements, and engine as Super Mario Galaxy? And before you question me, I am playing on the PS3, and so if you are playing Xbox I cannot say anything about framerate and such. This game is way better than GTA4 in every aspect and it accomplishes everything in a smooth, and exciting way. Missions are fun, side missions are fun, and the world is much more dynamic and the world in itself is a character. This game should be one of the games hailed as game of the year so far. It's the best game I have played all year, and I tend to play every major release and well-received game that comes out. I could go on and on about how all the major titles of this year sucked and this one provided what it said it would while other titles didn't, but I won't. I suggest that anyone who can't decide whether to play this game just rent it and see. Because for a fan of western movies and such, I love this. But some of my friends haven't enjoyed it quite as much because they aren't huge into westerns and such.

May he rest in peace. He was a real inspiration for a lot of my friends garage bands and Holy Diver will forever be the song I would want to die hearing in the midst of a battle.

Finished Dune, which should be required reading for people who say they like Sci-Fi. I was obsessed with it, and it is hard for me to sit and read a book over two weeks because I usually get very bored, but Dune was entertaining without being ultra-violent, which is odd because I am really into reading action-packed and pretty frenetic lit. Reading Paul of Dune, a midquel that bridges the gap between Dune and Dune Messiah. Over about a day I've read 250 pages of it so far, which is pretty good for me. Despite my fast reading of it, it isn't great, definitely isn't going to be held in as high esteem as Dune, but is still alright. I just hate books that jump around the timeline really fast. Like one chapter is the first year of a war, the second chapter is the third year of the war. If you are bridging the gap between two books, why would you have a broken novel? And Paul of Dune is a bad name for a book that focuses on almost every surviving character that anybody gives a damn about. Next I'm reading the first set of prequels, the House Trilogy, which is hopefully following a shorter timeline and won't jump around too much. One of my biggest problems with Paul of Dune is the fact that at the beginning of the book he talks about things that happened in Paul's past, that aren't actually explained till quite a while into the book, making it hard to understand why the Atreides have a blood feud with this other house. I don't know. If you are going to read Dune, read the originals by Frank Herbert, and then try the prequels and sequels and mid-quels by his son and see what you think, because you either really enjoy them or really hate them or are not impressed by them. I fall in the latter, and my Dad, who was the one who told me to read the series, falls in the "The prequels and sequels and stuff are awesome" because he found Frank Herbert's writing style to become to technical and too philosophical toward the end of the series. We'll see. I have planned to try to read through the whole series by halfway through summer, so about mid-July. Wish me luck.

Currently beginning work on my fantasy novel. School's over in three weeks and I feel the need to finish a complete novel by summer's end, so might as well get an early start. Bought quite a few books to read. Right now I am reading Dune, by Frank Herbert. I love it, and I own the other five in the original series and a couple in the prequels/sequels/midquels by his son. Great sci-fi series. I also bought the Ninja novels by Eric Lustbader. My favorite teacher told me they were his favorite and that I should read them. I will oblige. Nothing much new coming out that interests me this summer. Hopefully the fall/winter seasons have another Stephen King novel and perhaps some decent fantasy coming.

I reviewed the beta for another site, but here's the review. [spoiler=Review of Halo Reach beta]RATCHET573 PRESENTS HALO REACH BETA REVIEW Some things never change, and the same can be said about the Halo franchise. I have never in my life been impressed with it's single player campaign. But, it's multiplayer is the only reason I keep a copy on my shelf. Halo ODST is currently the only place where you can play the Halo Reach beta, which is running for a short period for free. GAMEPLAY If you have ever played any Halo game then the controls should be quite familiar to you. Some things have been changed, such as the strike button changing to the right front bumper instead of X, which was kind of frustrating at first. The left front bumper is used for your special ability, which is based on the class you pick. Otherwise the game play remains unchanged and while some might say that Halo's multiplayer is timeless, I must say that at points I felt like the game was dated. Maybe it is just because I played the other ones and they felt the exact same, but it just felt like it need more of a tune up than having classes and special abilities. WEAPONS AND VEHICLES The weapons are a little different, a couple new ones enter the mix including a new Covenant sniper rifle, but otherwise the weapons are the same old ones you know and love. The vehicles remain the same too. Nothing much in innovation found here. LOBBY It took quite a while for me to get to a game, between three and five minutes just to find a group to play with. The lobby does allow some customization using a point system to buy stuff to put on your character. And while I prefer Halo 3's "add crap whenever you desire" feature, this does add more incentive to play the game and there are also tons of new things you can buy. MUSIC The same, strong score you remember in the lobby, but once in the game, it is ultimately very forgettable. One of the most awkward things about the music is that when you go invisible, it completely mutes and there is nothing. While it makes sense in a way, it still feels completely awkward. THE PEOPLE If I am to complain about the one thing I hate more than Halo's campaign, it is the gigantic fan base of seven to twelve year olds that just get on your nerves more than anything else. The people, let's face it, usually suck. While I did have a conversation with a couple decent people, most of the time I had little kids telling us to shut the [bleep] up. And then when I asked them what gave them the right to talk like adults, we then hear the longest string of "[bleep]s" I have ever heard in my life. And while I can enjoy the cussing of a seven year old who's parents are probably too busy sitting drunk in their trailer's living room, I cannot excuse the fact that it seems like every time a new game starts there is another one. Intelligent conversations are hard to come by on Xbox Live, and the only conversations you can usually have over Live are with friends in secluded games of Uno. While it is rare to find someone to hang out with on Reach, it is still a great feeling when you know you have sat through four hours of children cussing more than a drunk Ron White to find that person. THE CLASSES Hey, the class system worked in Team Fortress 2, why not try that out in Halo? While it is decent, I do not think that it is at all a very good class system and it seems a little unbalanced at points. Every class comes with a set of weapons and a special: Active Camo-Makes you go invisible for a short period of time. While decent in some respects, it is still only useful if you are camping. Otherwise, running and gunning while invisible will still make you appear to enemies. Armor Lock-Allows you about five or six seconds to chill as the enemies fire at you. Basically, you are invincible. It is a decent thing to have and I do think it is kind of cool to sit back and watch as a Banshee tries to nose-dive into you and ends up bouncing off your glowing back. Jet Pack-I hated this ability. It isn't all that exciting to me to be able to fly around the map for short spurts, and the only real use I found was if you wanted to fly behind someone when they weren't paying attention and then get behind them and kill them before they realized you were there. Sprint-For Spartans only, this makes you, oddly enough, sprint. It looks a lot like Call of Duty Modern Warfare's sprinting and you can only sprint in short bursts. This is a fairly useless special. Evade-The Covenant equivalent of sprint, this makes you roll to the side, though you wouldn't know because the camera give you no indication you have rolled. Basically, everyone else saw you roll, but your camera didn't go around 360 degrees like it could have, making it a bit more fluent and a bit easier to notice you did something. This is an alright special, but still not that exciting. GAME TYPES Juggernaut-Probably one of my least favorite games. Find the juggernaut, kill him, become the juggernaut, and try to stay the juggernaut for as much time as you can. A fairly basic game and I never really could enjoy it. Headhunter-Another "meh" game. You kill everyone else, steal their skulls and take them to a ringed area to score a point. It seems almost like a chore most of the time, just because you have to collect the enemies skull and take it to a ring again and again and again. Probably should stay with lone wolves if you want a faster, much more exciting game. Generator Defense-Spartan's protect three generators from Covenant. A very simple, very boring game. One thing that really annoys me is that only the Spartan's defend and only the Covenant attack, the two never switch and try to beat the other teams time. Instead there is an allotted time for the attackers to get to the generators. Not my favorite version of attack and defend. 1 Flag Capture the Flag-One flag, take it to your base or stop the other team from taking it to theirs. It is an alright game, but once again, the traditional two flags works much better. While one flag is somewhat the same, it makes it a bit less frantic. You are only trying to get the flag, not defend yours and get the other teams. Stockpile-Four neutral flags must be taken to your base. This one is a bit better than one flag, but I still prefer the original CTF to this. Oddball-Get to the skull, hold on to it for as long as you can to collect points. Kill the person with the skull if you must. I loved this game and did find it quite entertaining. Crazy King-King of the Hill, only the area you need to stand in changes all the time. It is kind of fun to play, and makes it even harder to rack up points. 3 Plots-You score by staying in an area, and capturing it, taking over the territory. This is just as good as Crazy King and I don't really notice any differences among the two really minus the time limit. Slayer-Just as good as it has been since the original Halo. Team SWAT-No shields or radars. Basically team slayer made a bit harder. Covy Slayer-Covenant slayer. Because we can't just have interracial slayer, we have to be racist. Slayer Pro-Slayer minus the radar. MAPS POWERHOUSE Powerhouse is a good map until you have played it ten million times. Basically, it is a circular map with two levels, the ground level and an upper level around a ruined water purification center I guess. You could also jet pack onto the third level area, but nobody does. The fight is usually pretty intense on the bridge area and off to the side but it otherwise a very simple, and very basic map to figure out. Most people should be able to easily understand the ins and outs of this map on their first play. SWORDBASE Swordbase looked kind of like Kamino from Star Wars Episode 2 for me at first. It is two different buildings connected by various walkways with a plaza beneath the walkways. I found this map a bit confusing, even after three or four plays. The grav lift in the center takes a bit of getting used to (jump into it and more than likely you might want to play as a jet pack character to make the rest of the jump) and it just became a bit frustrating to navigate at points. It is a great map for oddball though, and I did kick some major [wagon] at this map when playing said game type. BONEYARD The best map of the three in my opinion, and you will play this map. A lot. I played this map maybe 80 percent of the time I played. Anyway, it is a bit more complex than you thing at first. Basically a base, a field, a large building, another field, another base. Very simplistic, but simplistic maps are usually the best for large multiplayer battles. This is the only map that supports vehicles as well, so this also makes it a big plus in my book. FINAL THOUGHT Halo Reach's beta was good fun. And while it did become a bit of a drag during some game types and the people were idiots, it still provided the entertainment you expect from Halo's multiplayer. Hopefully there are more classes and special powers shipping with the actual game to balance it a bit more and I also hope some more new weapons and vehicles are added to freshen an experience that is becoming slowly duller and duller. What started with Halo 3 continued into ODST and is now in Reach is becoming old news, and with more and more much more involving and exciting multiplayer experiences out there, Halo is becoming a slowly dying creature. And while Halo's fan base is huge and I do praise it for being as much fun as it is, I can't shake the feeling that change is needed, more than the classes and special abilities that at points feel tacked on and kind of lame compared to Halo 3 when everyone had the same starting weapons and picked up whatever they wanted as they proceeded around the map. The class system just doesn't really work as much for Halo, which has always been a frantic battling game. In games like Team Fortress and Bad Company, the classes are integrated a lot more and seem a better fit. Team Fortress includes well balanced characters with different abilities all around, while Halo Reach provides the same character with pretty much a different set of starter weapons (All of which can easily be procured from the map) and a different special ability. Hopefully I will see a few tweaks to the multiplayer come September 1, but overall, the experience was a pretty good one. If you have ODST, then definitely give this beta a try. The beta earns four out of five stars. I really did enjoy it.

ACT 1: THE INSOMNIAC Jack Locke opened his eyes and let them adjust to the dim light of the bedroom. His wife was turned facing the wall opposite, snoring quietly. He didn't want to get up and disturb her, the old second-hand mattress he inherited from his grandparents would more than likely creak so loud he would wake the neighbors. He reached for the orange tube that stood on his bedside table beside the alarm clock. The digital read-out displayed in blood-red that it was 2:38 A.M. Jack pushed the cap down (Damn safety precautions for those damn kids, he thought) and twisted the lid off. He tilted the prescription bottle just enough for two white pills to fall into his hand. He shoved them in his mouth, swallowed, replaced the lid on the tube, put it on the bedside table, and waited, eyes closed, for the sleep to hit him. It never did. At 7:15 the alarm burst from the clock, the shrillest beeps anyone could imagine. Jack Locke turned it off and turned back to the spot on the ceiling he had been staring at the past four hours. He was sweating profusely, his eyes burnt like the pits of hell. The sleep pills had not worked. Jack's insomnia had been a problem for a while now, but the pills had always put him to sleep. If anything, all the pills had done that night was tighten his chest and turn him into a bipedal furnace. He had just gotten the pills the day before, maybe they had changed the ingredients in the pills after discovering a new, better ingredient. Maybe the new guy at the pharmacy had screwed his prescription up, thrown in the wrong pills.It had happened to his friend Todd who went to sleep after taking head-ache pills and woke up an hour later with a head-ache and a giant erection. Jack went to the bedroom's adjoining bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his forehead was plastered with sweat. His wife-beater stuck to his body. "Damn, you're one ugly mug." Jack muttered to his reflection. He took a cold shower. A long one at that. When he got out he waltzed to the bedroom closet naked and pulled on a T-shirt and camo-style shorts and went downstairs to the kitchen. It was sunny outside, beautiful. The birds were chirping and the wind blew gently through the trees. The windows were open and it felt nice. The coffee pot was full and Jack dumped some of the hot liquid into his Mickey Mouse mug. He took a large sip of the coffee. It burnt his tongue wonderfully. His chest still hurt but he sat down at the kitchen table and stared out at the backyard, felt the breeze against his face. That evening he took the pills again after checking the label and making sure the pills looked correct. Everything was in order. He might just be having a fever, an allergy of some sort. Maybe the reason he had not slept last night was the fact he was dozing in and out of the dream world, maybe when he took the pills it had been a dream. He put the pills in his hand. The pills went down. He instantly fell asleep. And woke up in such pain it was almost indescribable. 11:30. 11:31. 11:32. He clutched at his chest, wriggled about in pain. And then it got worse. His wife tried to hold him down but he was too powerful. He flung about like a beached fish. She pulled him off the bed and dragged him into the bathroom. She flung him into the bathtub, clothes and all, and turned the cold water on. Jack started to calm, but the pain... "I...I'm having a heart attack." Jack managed to blurt out. What the hell is that? Why am I in so much pain? Jack noticed the dark shape standing over him turn it's head, it's eyes red, bright. A demon? No. No, he was good, he was a good Christian. Why would Satan come for him? The darkness overtook him and he lay in the shower, passed out until the ambulance came and the medics put him on a stretched and carried him out. His wife stopped them and handed the lead man the orange tube. ACT 2: THE DARK WORLD He woke up in a dark, unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed. The pain was still there, his heart felt as if it were being squeezed by Mr. Universe. His palms were bleeding, his nails had torn into them pretty good. He needed some bandages. The blood was staining the sheets and his sweat was turning them yellow. All around him, he saw dark shapes. He couldn't tell if they were people or animals. They all were stooped though, broken. And then, as if on cue, all of the shadows turned toward Jack, red eyes staring hungrily at him. "You can't take me Satan! God is with me!" Jack flailed his arms, searching for the cross he wore on a chain around his neck. It wasn't there. The shapes came closer and closer, then started coming together, growing into one large mass. Jack screamed as another form entered his view, this one upright, wearing some sort of hat, a fedora maybe. The figure had no glowing eyes, and seemed...different from the other shadows. "Poisoned." Said a voice from nowhere, probably from the new shadow. Jack could not tell if the voice was that of a man or woman. "You're lucky you haven't died. You're on the verge though." He was hallucinating. He had not slept for days, this was probably some sort of delusion, everything had to be. Then the lights turned on and the doctor ran in, grabbed Jack's arm. "He's having a seizure! Get me some [bleep]ing help!" Jack didn't hear a word of that. He was too busy listening to conversations no one else could hear. "The verge." A voice whispered. "Archer." Came another voice. Whatever his hallucinations were talking about, they were hallucinations. None of this mattered. What mattered was that pin[puncture] of light at the center of his vision. What mattered was getting out of this dark hold and back to Earth, to his wife, his life. Jack envisioned that pin[puncture] of light getting larger, encapsulating him, becoming life. Jack was never asleep, but when the darkness disappeared he was back in the hospital bed, four doctors grabbing him, dabbing at his lips where foam was gushing forth. Jack screamed out of pain and because he felt the need. "HOLY [cabbage]!" The doctors screamed as well. "How the hell did he get out of a seizure that fast? No [bleep]ing way!" "JESUS CHRIST IN HEAVEN!" Jack gasped for air but his chest was tighter than ever. "Poison." Jack said, not understanding why, "Poison?" One of the doctors asked. "The pills...where are they?" Jack gasped for air. A doctor left the room and came back a moment later with the tube. "Sleeping pills? Twice a day? No, you don't need these!" "Twice...a day? No wonder I couldn't...sleep...." "Huh?" Jack inhaled sharply again. "Check...poison." "Get this to in-house poison control!" The doctor handed it to a nurse running in in exchange for some damp washcloths. "Yes Dr. Hale." The nurse ran out of the room. "Poison? Who the hell would poison a retired machinist?" "Tylenol...scare." Jack managed to say. One of the doctor's eyes went wide. "Poisoning just to poison? Just to kill?" The doctors looked at their colleague questioningly. "It's why there are safety stoppers on the top of medicine. Not to keep kids out but to keep out random people wishing to tamper with the medicine in-store, such as a poisoner. There was this guy fifteen years ago who just ran around putting poison into random bottles of Tylenol just for the hell of it and ended up killing plenty of people." "But this was a prescription...from a pharmacy!" A doctor exclaimed. "You're telling me there could not be a crooked pharmacist in the world?" "What would he gain?" "What does anyone gain from killing a random person?" Jack felt his chest turning to lead. He couldn't exhale or inhale. He couldn't see at all. Everything was becoming a blur. "Jesus, we're losing him. The poison..." "Why the [bleep] aren't we treating him for poison?" "Because we don't know what kind it is! We don't know where the toxin is targeting! It's a slow toxin too! I've never seen a poison take more than a day to kill a man, but this has been thirty-six hours!" Jack couldn't breathe. He couldn't hear correctly, see correctly. Poison. Don't know what kind. Can't save him. Dead. Damn. ACT 3: CAUSE OF DEATH "It was very weak, the neurotoxin was cobra venom mixed with a little bleach is all we know at the moment. The pills had very little on them, which is why he couldn't smell the bleach and why the poison had not killed him faster. It could really screw with a person's systems apparently. Your husband had a weak heart too, which helped the toxin. He must have been a smoker." Jack's wife nodded her head and cried. She cried even harder at the finality of the doctor's next words: "I'm sorry Mrs. Locke, but your husband is dead. The police are going to the pharmacy right now to arrest the killer." More tears. And the tears would continue for days to come. "The poison is amazing. It is perfectly balanced. It was created to wreck havoc on the bodies internal systems and then strike the heart. The toxin apparently [bleep]ed with the victims brain. Then it went for the heart. He was supposed to take four of the sleep pills, two at a time, three hours before bed and then right as he lay down. He only took them once a day though, didn't follow the instructions. So the poison on the pills didn't screw with him as bad as it could. If he had more it would disperse to the digestive system, the excretory system. This guy would have been beyond repair. He would have been so broken..." "What about the seizure?" "The toxin was [bleep]ing with his brain; more than likely that is what caused the seizure." "So it was just bleach and venom?" "Trace amounts of other things, but I have to send it to someone else to figure those out." "Your thoughts?" "This is one badass poison that we wouldn't want in the wrong hands." "Already was." "Oh well, hopefully he didn't send the recipe to a friend." The police cuffed the short, balding man and took him to one of the twelve Crown Victoria's surrounding the place. "Why'd you do it." "As a test." "Why Jack Locke?" "It said on his record he was a smoker, a very, very heavy smoker at that. I wanted to test the poison on him, wait to see his name in the obituaries and see if it really worked." "What did you want to see in the obituary?" "That every part of his body was shut down, no way to trace the cause of death because everything was so screwed up." "What is the poison made from?" "Well, that's between me and my boss." "What?" The police man asked before his head exploded. The killer laughed as well before his head burst like a watermelon full of C4. The open bars at the very top of the interrogation room were six inches across and six inches down. Just enough for the sniper to get rid of the two in the room. END Monthly horror writing contests make me want to write horror. I can't say I think this is my best work, but I think it's alright. It moves too fast, as opposed to too slow, which wouldn't be as good as it being too fast. Who is Archer, what is the Verge, who is the sniper? I'll solve those questions through the monthly horror writing contest I am doing on another website, this is May's and it is on tampered medicine. Ultimately, I think it is pretty good for something I wrote over the course of four hours while simultaneously paying attention to my teachers. Anybody with any criticisms or such are welcome to tell me. I took a lot of liberties with the poison and what it is comprised of. And the Tylenol scare is real, not a plot device. I posted this for the contest and I've been told it's reminiscent of Hitchcock, but since I've never read Hitchcock, I have no idea what the guy was talking about. Hopefully the few people who read this will enjoy it since it is my second attempt at real world horror and my first attempt in two years.

I feel really ticked off. We have one of the best forums, some of the best guides. One of the mod's on the RSOF are saying that TIF is going to be moved to platinum but there was something about moving game adverts. One the flip side of popularity comes trolls. Hopefully Jagex didn't just open us up to a whole bunch of RSOF users who will spam us to death.

THE PUNISHER: ORIGINS Chapter 1: Hell in the Park The deck of the aircraft carrier was crowded with jet planes and soldiers. The soldiers stood in the middle of the runway, ten in a line, ten in a column. One hundred soldiers in all, all at attention. They had stood like this for the past five minutes, sweat beading on their foreheads and threatening to get into their eyes or tickle their cheek, threaten to make the soldiers break their stance. Frank Castle stood in the front row, third person from the right. He bent his knees a bit to get the blood flowing back through them. He tried to keep his gaze centered on the nose of one of the jet planes, but was too excited to stay focused and had a case of wandering eye syndrome. He looked at the gulls screeching in the air, at the flags waving from the top of the bridge. Another three minutes passed before a man walked out from the bridge in Maverick sun glasses and carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder. Everyone snapped a salute at the same time as the commander of the USS Carter waltzed over to where they stood and dropped his duffel bag. He saluted back and then everyone dropped their hands. The end of the road for some. The relaxation needed before the return of others. We've had a hell of four years most of us. From Iraq to Afghanistan to China, we've seen the world, and we've been in enough predicaments to make any of the other carriers jealous. He laughed. Some of the best goddam pilots I've ever seen are on this ship standing before me. Some of the best chefs, the best drill sergeants. But today, we go back to where we belong. Come back from one [cabbage]hole, to land in another. New York City is probably going to be your least favorite part of your tour of duty. Anybody headed for the airport, going home to their families, or anyone grabbing a bus or driving back home, get out as fast as you can. Frank laughed a little. He was a New Yorker, he understood the meaning of the commander's diatribe completely. New York sucks. And even being a native Frank could agree. It's a tourist town, and the only reason he lives there anymore is the fact he is married and he can live close to his mother and father. You kids are a great bunch and should be proud of your accomplishments. I have a couple I wish to point out. We have Army Ranger Lupe Hernandez. With a sniper rifle, he could kill anyone, whether from fourteen miles away to right in front of him. Jack Corona, able to shoot himself out of a prison camp like it was nothing. Frank Castle, saved three reporters from being raped and killed while it was recorder on the internet. Frank was saddened by the memory. He remember running into that hot tent, the white sheets of the bed tarnished with dirt. The young reporter having her pants cut off methodically with a long bowie knife and the maniacal laughter of the middle eastern man preparing for pleasure. Tears streaming down the lovely girls face, a bandana soaking up the tears and muffling the cries. He remembered that instant of shock from the men in the tent, the tears of joy streaming down the cheeks of the reporters. He remembered the sudden adrenaline and the next few seconds of carefully aimed shots. Bang. Bang. Bang. And he remembered the screams and the men dropping to the ground, faces contorted in pain, almost caricatures of what they had looked like ten seconds before. He was pulled back to reality by a horn and loud screams from the dock that was coming up on the port side. He could already feel tears stinging his eyes at the thought of seeing his wife, of seeing his children. I'm back he wanted to scream. The commander grabbed his duffel bag and waved his hand. Get the hell out of here. Live life like everyday is your last. Everyone ran towards the front of the ship where their luggage sat in a huge pile. Frank had left his on the far right so it would be easy to get before the crowd started fighting to get their stuff and debark. He was the fourth one to the metal staircase that was propped against the ship's hull. He ran down and was instantly assaulted by a woman of medium height, with blonde hair and a red skirt on. She hugged Frank shoving her face into his biceps. He hugged her tight back and stroked her golden locks. Maria. He muttered under his breath. Welcome back Frank. She replied and they locked lips for what seemed like a millenia. Frank then felt two thumps against his leg. His two children hugged him, Jake on the right leg, Melissa on the left. Both cried Daddy, daddy, daddy incessantly. Hey kids. He dropped to his knees and hugged them both. When he got back up he smiled. I heard you had something planned for lunch? Central Park is mind-numbingly large. It is easy to get lost in it's expanses of green fields and areas of dense forest. The only thing that can really ruin the moment are the streets that run around it, car horns blaring and traffic taking away from a usually magnificent experience. Frank looked around and took in a scene he missed. It was almost enough to make him want to cry. The people, sitting on benches feeding pigeons, running in short shorts with their MP3 players blocking out the world around them, the dogs running around sniffing out the best tree to leave their mark on. Maria stopped in front of a stone bridge that went over a small lake populated by a couple ducks. She stood against the railing of the bridge and smiled. Remember this place Frank? Frank did remember. How could he forget? It was probably just a stupid question to get the two in the mood, and he understood his wife well enough to know that was probably it. It's where I asked you to marry me. Frank said. Maria walked over to Frank and they kissed for a while. The kids had been trailing behind, but now stayed as far back as they could, sticking their tongues out in apparent disgust. Frank was the broke away from the kiss and smiled warmly. Let's find a spot for lunch. He nodded at the picnic baskets he held. Maria nodded and led the way to a large clearing that was where most people decided to picnic, mostly because it was in the center of the park, where it was a little quieter, and all the fountains surrounded them, adding just a little more flair. Frank lay out a blanket and sat. Melissa sat next to him and opened a picnic basket as fast as she could. Yummy! She said, pulling out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Frank looked around. Maria, why are there no other people here? He asked. Last time I remember this place was always packed with people. Maria shrugged. I guess they are at work. Frank shook his head. It might be PTSD, or it might be the fact that something is up. Frank, don't tell me the war has messed with your head. It does with everyone in some manner Maria. Frank saw it out of the corner of his eye, the glint of a pistol being aimed at the picnicking family. GET DOWN! He screamed, throwing the children under him and trying to pull Maria down. More people showed up, each with their own weapon. A machine gun, a pistol, an Uzi. Maria screamed as the Uzi went off, her back exploding into a shower of blood. NO! Frank screamed. He then felt the kids squirm, crying. They tried to go to their mom who now lay limp on the blanket. Frank tried to keep them underneath him but felt the shots thump into them, and then thump into his back. The children screamed and Frank screamed as well, not only in pain but in anger. He made a split second decision. The only way out was to pretend he was dead. He lay limp on the ground for fifteen minutes, suppressing the tears that threatened to rip through his eyelids. Jake was already dead when Frank decided to get up. He checked Melissa's heartbeat. She had a faint beat. Frank tried CPR but it did not work. She was dying slowly. She was probably in some sort of coma. One of the bullets had hit her back. She probably had gotten hit in the vertebrae. Frank heard footsteps and played dead. He then heard two cars stop in the middle of the field. Holy [cabbage]! It was a massacre! Said someone. Get them in the ambulance. Probably no point, but do it anyway. Frank turned around, the pain from the shots in his back still echoing across his body. Jesus Christ! Screamed one of the ambulance men. One of the policemen grabbed Frank and nodded toward the ambulance. We're going to get you out of here. Frank passed out somewhere in between meeting the policeman and getting up from the ground. Frank had left the hospital in a day and a half. One of the bullets had gotten him shallow in the back and the other had hit his shoulder. All he needed was rest. He sat at his little townhouse and paced endlessly, staring at the papers, noticing nothing about his family other than the pictures of his kids and his wife in the obituaries. He would burn the papers promptly after noticing Spiderman on the cover of The Daily Bugle, giving the thumbs up at a cameraman as he holds a robber by the scruff of his neck. Superheroes. Worthless scum was all they were. Stealing the public spotlight from the more important things and the regular people. Spiderman caught a man robbing a 7-11 while Frank Castle was the only survivor of a mafia massacre. The mafia. He had noticed it from their suits, from the tattoos found on their bodies. They were mafia, and they didn't kill without reason. Frank Castle was going to find the reason. Find out why they had cleared out the picnickers to kill his family. Find out who had hired them. Answers the police couldn't give him because they were too busy sitting on their worthless [wagon] waiting for a superhero to do their job. Frank took a black shirt and painted a skull on it with white paint. It wasn't fancy, but it should send a message. The next day, he hit some other stores. He used his life savings to buy a weeks worth of black clothing and a couple pairs of black boots. He went to Harlem and bought ten bullet-proof vests and went to Chinatown to buy from a reputable black market dealer. He got M-16's, riot shotguns, pistols. He then bought an armored van from him that needed a lot of work. Over the course of a week, he had the van sent in to multiple dealers and worked on it himself. He gutted it, and turned it into an apartment/work place on wheels. He had hidden compartments for weapons, had a metal desk bolted to the floor, as well as a bed, and a bookshelf. He put a computer in there and started filling compartments with guns and grenades and everything he would need. He hid what used to be a SWAT van in his garage. He wouldn't need it yet. The funeral was short. Five family members showed up, each wearing black, each in tears. Frank comforted his wife's mother and father. His own mother and father had shown up. They all stood together, watching the caskets be lowered into the plots, one next to the other. I should be next to them. Frank muttered. Frank threw his duffel bags full of his black clothes, the shirts now all painted with the skulls, into his van. His neighbor was next door, hosing his bushes. You off on a trip? He asked, turning the nozzle, which made the spray stop. You could say that. You going out to the woods to find some time alone to get past your families death? That's what I did when my parents died. No. Frank's neighbor waved. Well, goodbye. Your family is with God now, probably enjoying dinner with him right now. I'm sure. Frank walked inside the house and inspected the floors. Gasoline covered everything, the walls, the furniture. He lit a match and threw it inside. As he drove toward Manhattan island, Frank's neighbor called the fire department as the house next door turned into a blazing inferno. When the fire department settled the flame, there was nothing left but ashes. War Journal Number One I have left my past behind, burnt it to the ground. I will now go out to punish the corrupt, to show the lazy lawmakers what is wrong, to show the mafia who the real don is, to make sure the tabloids know who the superheroes should watch out for. I have no fancy powers, I have nothing but manpower and guns. I am out to show the world that their petty superheroes are nothing but people who use their powers for public infamy. They are not around to fight the evils of the street like I am, they are there to punch a crook in the face and then get international recognition for being able to put a web around said villain to tie him up. The age of heroes will end. As will the age of villains. There will only be one name to love and fear when I finish my mission. That name will be: The Punisher.

[spoiler=More end spoilers]If you watch past the credits there is a two or three second clip of the cliff Kratos died at, but a huge blood streak appears to go to the edge of the cliff. I assume he survived. Also, the game seemed very biblical, what with the floods, the sun not there, the swarms of insects. I didn't understand the end very much, but I assume that ultimate goddom is given to one person, thus the Christian God of War is the next series in line? Maybe Kratos is God and kills the other gods who have lost power. Because there are still quite a few greek gods, they didn't go through the whole list yet.

I'M BACK!!! (Mild Applause and some people muttering "Who the hell cares?") In other news, I would have expected that by now people would have quit these pointless rants pertaining to the fact that they have bad luck. I have a friend who was after the same thing and he spent nine months nonstop fighting black dragons and oddly enough, he ended up just buying it. It's the luck of the draw, and some people should learn this lesson. It is not a Jagex conspiracy to make you not get it, it is the fact that you are very unlucky. So it's more like a conspiracy devised by God on you.

Super Dancer Online Season 2 Exreme?

I personally thought Raines was harder than the chapter 9 boss. It ultimately depends on your configuration. With Snow as my Sentinel (tank), Vanille as a Medic and Saboteur and Ravager, and Lightning as a Commando and Ravager, it is fairly balanced. I am not doing a very good job working with the technical things, I basically was making everyone fighting oriented, not worrying about Debuff and stuff like that until I hit the fifteen hour mark and realized that that was a pretty kick [wagon] skill set. I have just started using Sentinel and wish I would have used it before, because it makes fights so much simpler compared to when I just fought fought fought for twenty minutes. I am focusing every character except Vanille on a specific skill because of how ungodly priced the new skills are (Once you beat Raines, it takes 6000 points to get to the next orb, that's the equivalent of twelve fights with normal enemies). Lightning-Ravager Snow-Sentinel Sazh- Saboteur Hope-Medic Fang- Commando Vanille- Medic, Saboteur, Ravager

I beat the Level 9 boss in seventeen minutes, not hard, just really annoying to watch your characters get their health blown away every attack. I had Lightning as a ravager, Snow as a ravager, and Vanille as a healer. Basically we knocked at his stagger gauge then beat the crap out of him when he hit stagger. I wish I would have used Snow more as a sentinel, but my strategy worked and I didn't die. My advice to any newbies is to work on Snow's sentinel, because it makes the bosses so much easier. With mediguard, he heals as he guards, making it much easier to let him take all the pain and then attack with your other two characters.

Currently 18 hrs in and almost done with Chapter 9. I am glad to see you have to fight a hard boss -.- I hate so many of the battles. As you progress it seems like Square Enix hates you more and more, I've skipped so many fight in Chapter 9 because I don't want to fight six enemies that will tornado kick my team at the same time and kill us all.

Should have gotten the original first. I believe a lot of choices from the first affect this game and the back story is always nice to have. Final Fantasy stole this game from my PS3, so once I beat FF I'll get back to this game. I was 15 hrs into the original, and really wanna play Awakening. We shall see what happens, I've still got 40 hours left of FF.

You heard the man! Court dismissed, bring in the dancing lobsters! Am I the only one who feels nostalgic from that picture? And I would like to state that skills should take a while, because what good is going from 1-99 in an hour? Everyone will be fully developed in that skill and there will be no player diversity. Thus, skill grinding is a big part of leveling up in said skill. And I have two years, and eight months over the OP and 2,584 more posts. So you must listen to your senior or get off my damn lawn!

Thanks to the OP for a well-thought out and well-written piece. Very rare to find, and very rare to have me agree with. And looking at your picture of the Grand Exchange made me ask something: Why the hell are they screaming out that they are selling stuff when the GE is right there. Or why are they saying they are going to sell something on the GE?

I logged on yesterday to do the free to play quest and I noticed the new lobby system. While it is nice to be able to stay logged in for a longer amount of time outside of playing the game it was also pretty ugly. I wish Jagex could have made a smoother interface for it. Other than that no major problems have come up. The game still plays the same and is completely the same game it was a year or two ago.

Around twelve hours in. On Chapter Six I believe. Personally, the combat system is pretty good. It is much easier and anyone new to RPG's will have a very easy time getting used to it. The characters are all right. Vanille doesn't annoy me that much, mostly because of all the laughs I have when I notice her and Szazh are stuck together and she keeps drawing a line and telling him not to pass it. It might be my dirty mind, or it might be the fact there is something going on behind the scenes... :unsure: It's graphically impressive. I'm pretty impressed so far, hopefully the story gets a bit better and the characters meet up since playing as two characters gets boring. Fighting is starting to get repetitive and it annoys the crap out of me the number of enemies you can't kill that are sitting around. Why not have some more monsters to fight that I actually can defeat? I have found it pretty easy so far though. The healer paradigm makes the game a heck of a lot easier.

Tales of something or other?