==> Tassie Larkan
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The poor fellow seems QUITE CONTRITE, sweating like your SIMPLE QUESTION was a grilling to MAKE TROLL-GEORGE FOREMAN PROUD.

"Oh! Oh no! No no! Journalist! News! Newest of the new news, so cutting edge it bleeds future! Very photogenic!l

So, it would seem the chump currently clinging to your arm and babbling his guts out is not merely a DIMINUTIVE INTRUDER, but a DARING INVESTIGATOR as well!

He was still taking photos of you in your nightgown tho'. >:(



==> Be Yscton Yagmur
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Stealthily descending down the stairs, with cat-like tread afoot and crude weaponry ahand, you manage to catch sight of the intruders before they espy you!

Your DEN AREA has been reduced to a mess, TWO-WHEELED LOCOMOTIVES toppled and spare AUTO-PARTS tossed around with wild abandon! And there in the center of it all is the one RESPONSIBLE for the toppling and tossing, WHALING upon your LUSUS's shell with a STOLEN WRENCH!

The creature might resemble a troll like yourself, if rather than flesh and blood you had the misfortune of being ASSEMBLED FROM SCRAP; A CRUDE SIMULACRUM of clumsily-welded steel, flailing it's EXTENDABLE LIMBS dumbly. Upon it's chest is marked a strangle symbol, an upside down pentagon bedecked by towers, a crown marked out in white within.


==> Be Jemdas Kitlec
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You have just time to see Etaoin FLAILING AROUND WITH A SANDWICH before the Trollian window pops up again, obscuring your view of the MODUS SHENANIGANRY! Gah! How do they keep DOING THAT?

imperiousCommand is trolling mazterZorcerer
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iC: Ahem.
iC: Such rude terseness is uncalled for
iC: Combined with your stubborn refusal to cease butchering the language, reminiscent of a squealing grubwiggler writhing in the mud
iC: It will not be tolerated
iC: Besides
iC: We have something of GRAVE IMPORTANCE to inform you of


==> Be Makdan Beldin
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It seems then a TRUE MADMEN authored these books, for although their exteriors be gaudy, the pages within look to be UTTERLY BLANK!

There's a trite moral in there somewhere.


==> Be Pallar Gotrem
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imperiousCommand is pestering allergicGambler
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iC: We fail to see why noses are even necessary
iC: They seem more trouble than they're worth
iC: And upon the subject of troublesome things, must you really transcribe the distortion of your voice?
iC: It is difficult to translate


==> Gidrim Oronet
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Following the METEORIC TRAIL you soon find it's maker, which has indeed fallen PRECISELY WHERE YOU GUESSED IT WOULD. The ONCE-PEACEFUL GLADE and SERENE POOL have been reduced to a smoke crater, the shrubbery on all sides smoldering with the budding start of a proper forest fire.

Unfortunately, you are not the only CREATURE OF THE WILDS come to investigate. Already here awaits a HIDEOUS TRI-SQUEALER, a PORKY BEAST possessing THICK FEATHERS, a pair of STURDY TUSKS and most dangerous of all, a THREEFOLD SET OF SHARPENED HORNS.


==> Be Etaoin Burrus
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Thinking fast and living faster, you reach for your SYLLANDEX with lighning speed, withdrawing from that ENDLESS REPOSITORY the one trick left in your sleeve, your ace in the hole, your last, best hope for besting these beasts!


... Or a sandwich. That works too.

The CLOKCROCS pause for a tick in stunned bepuzzlement, before resuming their assault with more fury than ever, forcing you to dance, PARRY and even employ your delicious sandwich as a shield to hold your precarious position upon the lip of the SACRIFICIAL PIT!


==> Be Irvekt Dirmin
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PSYCHOKINETIC BOLTS clash against STURDY REPTILIAN BIOLOGY! The first BOLT is deflected by the GAUNA's THICK, SCALY HIDE, crashing against the cavern floor and kicking up a spray of rocks and dust! The second skims across it's skull as the BEAST turns to face you, opening it's mouth to let out a HISSING ROAR!

This attempted intimidation turns out to be it's downfall though, for it merely allows you to hurl the third and final projectile RIGHT DOWN IT's GOB! The roar becomes a fit of coughing, choking and gasping, eyes bugging out and rolling back as it tries to recover from the LOW-HANDED STRIKE.

Without warning it's BARBED TAIL comes lashing round, seeking vengeance and finding it in spades. The SCYTHE-LIKE STINGERS tears a half-dozen SHALLOW CUTS across your flesh before you can escape it's range, your health bar dropping by NEARLY A QUARTER!

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One wound worth of damage is inflicted upon Irvekt, but, what with this being merely a FLARP, it only counts towards FLARP-stuff.


==> Be Dryden Salden
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You dream of ABSTRACT THINGS. Of IMPOSSIBLE SHAPES framed upon a HUNGRY VOID, so HIDEOUS that they're somehow BEAUTIFUL. You dream of a DARK CITY ruled in ABSENTIA, fighting A WAR PREDETERMINED. You dream of MANY THINGS, most of which are lost forever upon the very MOMENT OF WAKING.

This is ONE SUCH MOMENT. You cannot for the life of you recall what you dreamt of this day, only that it was of such UNMATCHED URGENCY to force you awake before NIGHTFALL. Even now the sky is BRIGHT RED with the FADING SUNLIGHT... Too red for that even.

Looking out, you see a GREAT SPHERE OF MOLTEN ROCK descending towards the earth, SMALLER METEROIDS breaking away and showering down into the surrounding forests as the main mass falls strait for your PALACIAL ABODE. Even with your undeveloped skills in the FIELD OF METEOROLOGY, you can tell this is not a good situation to be in.