Necromagus

Hehe, thanks, I had fun writing it :) Ain't life full of surprises? :P

Clicky! :D While it's a deviation from my usual style, I had fun writing it. It's a special thanks to Forsaken Mage for the teriffic job she has been doing keeping this place running :) (She's also the one that got me to write it in the first place )

About two months ago I found a bug that allowed you to protect your axe from losing its head. I won't go into detail, but all I got was an automated response a month later, telling me they'd look into it.

It's a pretty funny song, but it's kinda old... some kids were singing it while playing pokemon in a comic book store the other day.

It looks impressive enough, but I know that if I would try it I'd probably end up in the emergency room with some kind of compound fracture. Somehow the climbing and jumps reminded me of the platforming sections of the new Prince of Persia games...

If you're asking a question like this, it would be helpful to post an image or two for support. I've never heard of Lunesta, and chances are other haven't either. Not everyone lives where you live, and the commercial obviously isn't aired worldwide. If you want help you might want to help us help you.

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I'm not sure of the exact numbers you need, but just don't be spammy and you should grow fine. Most people with custom titles are staff, ex-staff or contest winners. Generally, if it doesn't have to do with runescape it's probably a custom rank. Just behave yourself, otherwise you might end up with your very own 'banned' custom rank :wink:

We rarely get more than two inches of snow over here, and it's usually melted by the end of the day. However, last november we got hit by a freak snowstorm that dropped about fifteen inches over the course of the day. This may not be much when you're used to it, but over here it caused chaos. Since the soil was still above freezing temperature all the snow turned to slush, completely jamming up some of the roads. Buses and trains stopped working. Our school panicked and dropped all classes after the sixth period, so approximately 200 students were stuck at school, since only a few lived close enough to just take their bikes home. So many cellphone calls were made for help that we actually jammed up the network in the area of our school (our school is pretty close to the train station, so a lot of stranded commuters were probably calling their families as well). When the parents finally came in to call their kids, the streets became completely congested around the school, almost nobody was able to get in or out. When my dad finally did arive it had taken him 45 minutes to travel the 12 miles between my house and my school. It took us nearly an hour to get back. The final traffic jam on the highways resolved around 6am the next morning. The total length of traffic jams on highways was a new national record. I believe it was officially the darkest day in 200 years as well.

There's some great guitarwork on Follow the Reaper and it's great music to blow off some steam. They also make one hell of a show when they're playing live. Best of all is their drunken Britney Spears cover though :P

The term 'goth' as applied to modern times doesn't come from the Germanic tribes, but from gothic romance, a form of romanticism that was particularly popular in England. It was, like other forms of romanticism, a form of escapism from the cold and emotionless world of rationalism. In this case writers and poets used dark themes like haunted castles and mysterious deaths to get away from it. Some good examples of 'gothic' novels are The Castle Otranto and Vathek. The most famous one would be Frankenstein, although it falls out of the timeline by a few decades, which si why some people consider it to fall out of romanticism in general.

This story is based on a rough draft I wrote a few weeks ago. At first it was about something entirely else, but as I sat down to type it it seemed to fit Richard perfectly, so it became a continuation of my earlier story, Assassin. This story will make a lot more sense if you read it's prologue first :) I might add other parts randomly, but I'm not making any promises. Also, like Assassin, the style of this story is a bit experimental so I have no idea how it will work out. Try to keep an open mind :) --- Redemption She was deadÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâæ the thought haunted Richard, looming over him like a strange kind of phantom. Dark, invisibleÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâæ but at the same time undeniably close, threatening to crash down on him when he least expected it. The electric wail of the alarm clock that had been ringing for the past five minutes increased in volume, until it became impossible for him to ignore it. With a long sigh his hand came down on top of it, muting it. The silence was deafening, the phantom closer than ever. He had to know. Had to know why. Slowly he pulled himself out of bed. The sheets were like sandpaper as they slid over his bare skin. The familiar throb of a hangover was there, but it was dim, muted. It had been there every morning for the past two weeks now, and he was getting used to him. The alcohol kept the phantom away, kept her phantom away, at least for a while. Amanda they called her. She who must be admired. He had admired her. For days on end he watched her, observing her every move through the scope of one of his many rifles. And then, that one night, she had come alone, and Richard knew the time had come. She knew it too, or at least he thought she knew. Nothing of that night seemed real anymore, but he could still see her as she tore open the curtains of her bedroom window, calling for him. A wingless angel. Richard knew what she was now. She had come to him every night since then, but never alone. The first time the wingless angel appeared to him she had brought a phantom for him. The phantom was with him, even now. The timer on his radio triggered. He could hear a voice, a menÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s voice, a voice that summed up all major disasters and crises of the past 24 hours with all the emotions of a machine. Richard ignored it. It was irrelevant. They didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t talk about her. She had come to him again. Amanda and her phantom. WhyÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâæ it was all she wanted to know, and she was asking him. Every night she asked him, and every night he slept less because of it. At first he thought he knew why. It was the money, it always was. She was just another job, and a well paid one at that. But when he saw his bank account with the promised six figures delivered to him he realized that wasnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t it. For the first time he saw his job for what it really was. He was giving anonymous cowards a comfortable way to deal with their problems. They paid him to make them his problems, and Richard was very good at making his troubles go away. At least, he used to beÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâæ Amanda had been someoneÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s problem, and now she was his problem, and she wouldnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t go away. Richard was going insane and he knew it. What he didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t know was why. Why was some-one willing to pay so much to see an angel killed. Richard was expensive, but not that expensive. Still, he had allowed himself to become blinded by money. He had killed an angel, and now he had to redeem himself. But how could he possibly find redemption for killing an angel? He had to know, had to be saved. He had considered finding help from someone more experienced at researching this sort of thing, but they wouldnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t understand. Nobody would understand. He was alone, his phantom was his alone, his to deal with. The coffee helped him clear his thoughts, just barely. He slumped into the chair behind his desk with a pained sigh. He brought his computer to life, squinting against the bright light of the monitor. When he had finally adjusted it showed that he had two new messages. Two new cowards who didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t have the strength to deal with their own problems but the money to let others deal with them in their place. He deleted them without bothering to read their contents. He was done, no more. Only redemption mattered now. He still had the clientÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢s messages. They were his only lead. There were pictures of Amanda too, but he couldnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t bring himself to look at them. It was painful enough to see her in his dreams. The messages from his client were his only lead, but they seemed to be completely useless. They had been sent from a public library, making it impossible to find out who sent them. The money was useless too. It had been wired in through Switzerland, impossible to trace. Whoever wanted Amanda dead was smart enough to take the necessary steps to remain anonymous. He considered widening his search. His wingless angel lead a busy life, a life that had left her with plenty of enemies. He had begun listing them, but they were just too many. He considered just killing them all. He was desperate to be freed from his phantom. No. No more killing. Death couldnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t bring him redemption. Death was what doomed him in the first place. But death was all he knew, it was how he made a living. Still, living didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t matter to him now. Redemption did. He was haunted. He couldnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t think of anything else anymore. He needed help. He shut off his computer, leaving him alone to his thoughts. He needed help. After what seemed like hours, he decided to go out and look for it in the only place he could think of. The cathedral was a vast thing, a decent attempt to replicate a European cousin funded by a wealthy born-again that wished to remain anonymous. Now, standing between the rows of pews, Richard felt small, exposed. For the first time in a long time he was facing the outside world without the comforting weight of a weapon. The saints, whether they were marble or stained glass, all seemed to stare down at him. They knew of his sins. He could feel their eyes boring into him. He didnÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢t belong here. He was a demon. An angelslayer. Still, he was a demon that wanted to redeem himself, wanted to be saved. Trying to ignore the stares of the saint, he walked past the pews, heading for the confessionary. Confession was the first step to redemption, it was something that was hammered into him from the earliest days of his childhood. For the first time, he actually believed it. He let himself sink down on the wooden bench, waiting for the wooden panel to slide open. When it did, it took him several long breaths to gather the courage he needed to begin. ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâ¦Ã¢â¬ÅForgive me father, for I have sinnedÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâæÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬ÃâÃ

'Normal'? That's funny, coming from someone that tries to be special by posting in a colour that makes his messages a pain to read to anyone using a dark forum theme just to be different...

r0ar! Ninja blade! ZING

http://www.intuitor.com/moviephysics/mpmain.html. This is a pretty interesting site that judges movies by the realism of their physics, a fun read for anyone with even the most basic understanding of the basic laws. For example, about King Kong the reviewer wrote: To be honest, I prefer that ending...

Aww, no love for Bubbles?

Meh, it's a decent rpg but never caught my attention for long... finished some of the games maybe twice. My younger brother on the other hand is a complete fanatic about it, competes in tournaments and everything. Even won a Mew for his Pokemon Red cartridge.

It's fun enough for a minute or two, but it really lacks in options and interactivity...

Haven't played them in quite a while, only have a small army and it's packed away somewhere. It's Eldar, craftworld Iyanden. From the top of my head: HQ: Seer council (Two farseers, three warlocks) Troops 1: 4 Wraithguard, 1 spiritseer Troops 2: 4 Wraithguard, 1 spiritseer Troops 3: 1 Wraithlord Fast attack: 2 Vypers Elites: 4 Howling Banshees, 1 Howling Banshees exarch Heavy Support: 4 Dark Reapers, 1 Dark Reaper exarch So yeah, no plastic for me :P (except for the Vypers, but they were birthday gifts)

Fifth, and he lost :P

I've played about 20 of the 30 games on there, I'd say it's a list I can pretty much agree with.

Meh, the cafeteria guy is funnier in a pigheaded sidekick way :P They should air it more over here... :?

Darts = overrated, imho. Just seems like a bar sport that got out of hand :?

Chuck sold out :cry:

Wow, banned already :shock: