Open Site Blathering (formerly Advice from iridium ITT)

[Dragon of Grondok]

*summits, charging his attack*

[Yannaria]

cock

[Col. Khaddafi]

I want the Coward award since I already have the Scumbag award and I want to be the perfect Scumbag and Coward

I call an 18

[Col. Khaddafi]

damn

[Yannaria]

I'm an anonymous user so I want the coward award

12!

[Yannaria]

fuck

[Kaitscralt]

*cums on the child-sized dragon*

[Kaitscralt]

Dragon should have picked a bigger die, someone is going to guess a number quick!

[Yannaria]

1,028 words in microsoft word.
Suck it!

[admin]

That story was so awful that I FZ'd it

[Dragon of Grondok]

Non-spam was specified in the post, feeble ass-shaving mortal. Also, to be a hero one should slay the dragon, no?

You can also roll more than once. Hurry up before Pendulum slays me!

[Yannaria]

I don't see any spam.
you love laughing. and checkbox's shit posts are so bad they're funny

[Yannaria]

I also wanted checkbox to get Cumbag of MTG community

[Yannaria]

mod abuse of power! censorship!

[admin]

just the Gamemaster keeping it fair

[Yannaria]

[Col. Khaddafi]

i_am_a_coward

8!

[Yannaria]

19! for Critical Coward

[Dragon of Grondok]

15 minutes have passed!

*the first summit ends and the Dragon of Grondok brings death and mayhem about page 109, then flies back to his treasure horde of Nai leaks and Nof pics*

[Checkbox]

1000 word response coming

[Kaitscralt]

I don't even know how to roll dice.

[admin]

you even have a faq man, why do I even bother

http://community.ist.utl.pt/viewtopic.php?p=37702

[Kaitscralt]

Fuck you

Calling 5

[Checkbox]

I am the Dragon of Grondok.

If you found the sword on page 87, you may now attempt to slay me for a ‘Hero of Page 109’ MTGC Gold trophy. You must type a 1,000 word non-spam post detailing a battle with the Dragon of Grondok before we reach page 110. It can be serious or funny.

mrmaul558 approached the clearing with a bit of hesitation.

Now was his chance. No longer would he have to try so goddamned hard. He could be an hero.

Or he could be a hero. Only time would tell.

The Dragon of Grondok had already awoken when he arrived. 'Twas a sight to behold; The Dragon was smaller than you'd expect - Yellow, very cute eyes and small wings. But mrmaul558 knew better... mrmaul558 understood the true power of the Dragon of
Grondok.

mrmaul558 pulled out his sword and declared himself ready for battle. The Dragon expunged a mighty breath of fire, almost as if to say, "Come at me bro".

mrmaul558 looked around for spectators - Gutter Skulks were all around him. He knew that once this battle had reached its climax, songs would be sung about his triumph for pages and pages to come.

Charging forth, sword drawn, mrmaul558 tried as hard as he ever did. He ran and ran and ran... but the dragon was not drawing nearer. It seemed that the harder mrmaul558 tried to reach the dragon, the further away it became.

mrmaul558 was confused, and started Cursing the skies. "Why hath thou forsaken me, Nai?! I learned from the greatest, who were than cast aside like cheap furry TCG cards, and was told that I could make it!"

Suddenly, a wild kpaca appeared, and told mrmaul558 to man the fuck up.
Almost at the same time, a wild kijin appeared and told mrmaul558 to stfu, that he would never mentor mrmaul558 , and that
he was cool with mrmaul558's hairbrush habits. He also told him that he was a terrible troll, and could never gain any sort of credit since he was such a dumbfuck.

mrmaul558 was momentarily taken aback; he had never had to face these inner demons before, but it wasn't long before he turned this fuel into fire. His power level soon reached over 9000, and moments later he RAN TOWARDS THE DRAGON AND CUT ITS FUCKING HEAD OFF WITH HIS DICK.

Gutter skulks everywhere were unimpressed, however, and mrmaul558 was confused. mrmaul558 had finally slain the dragon, and was finally granted entrance to the gutter skulk's lair: The Troll Hub. 'Twas a mythical place filled with casual racism and other motley assortments of vile activities; all mrmaul558 wanted was a group of internet friends with whom he could discuss harkius's and buttbrushes and niggers and the like.

mrmaul558 then had an idea; what if he disguised himself, changed himself, to better fit in with the 2/2's for 1B?

He gathered all of the
skulks together for a vote; he was going to change his name, and they were going to decide what it would be changed to.

There were many options put on the table, including xXdarthmaul42069Xx (which was an early favorite, but was quickly outclassed). Most, however, voted Checkbox.

And so it was. mrmaul558 was forevermore known as Checkbox.

"This will do it!", Checkbox thought. "There's no way they won't accept me now! We have an inside joke kind of!"

But alas, Checkbox was still a fish out of water. There was seemingly nothing he could do; no matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did, he just couldn't fit his square peg into the round hole of the gutter.

Life continued this way for sometime, until the evil Mages atop the high tower of cuntery decided that the Gutter Skulks were causing too much trouble.

'Twas a dastardly event; gloves came off, Mages were cast aside (and turned into glorified mechanics with no actual way to do their jobs), and eventually the
Gutter Skulks were forced to move their hive.

But not Checkbox; he had stayed out of the conflict for the most part, and was free to stay in the evil Mage's land of douche-faggery, or follow the flock of Gutter Skulks to their new home.

At first, he thought he'd try to split his time; like a child of divorced parents, he kept in contact with both, before realizing he had only one true love - the Community of Gutter Skulks.

They were his only internet friends, and he had been sort of like a retarded son to them for a while, and he was determined to do anything he could to prove his worth.

This new Community was relatively quiet for a while; sure, the inevitable trolls made their way from the evil Mage's town every now and again, but, to their dismay, they were met with only kindness and welcoming (except for the scummiest of Gutter Skulks, who delighted in calling them morally corrupt and making them stay awake at night with his malicious activities), and eventually the Trolls realized there
was nothing for them here (due to their own dirty grudges), and they left.

But then, the perfect opportunity arose; in the town hall, Checkbox heard rumors of a mythical beast in a far away place called "Page 109". He was determined to show his worth to the Gutter Skulks and slay this beast however he could; to try the hardest anyone ever did.

He went around, gathering as much information as he could about this beast's whereabouts; the sage of the town said "It is only a matter of time before the dragon is upon us."

Checkbox was content biding his time, waiting, watching, Harkiusing (creaming up his own knees and letting children lick it off), hoping this would finally be what penetrates the Gutter's community for him.

Finally came the day - the Dragon had appeared. This Dragon was no ordinary Dragon, for it had consumed the trolliest of the trolls and had gained his power as a result - This was a HarkDragon. Complete with Amazon Reviews, names like Daniel, and arguing for
the sake of arguing, Checkbox was against a true CI Warrior.

His training had not prepared him for this, but he knew how to deal with trolls back home; troll them even harder. Troll like you've never trolled before. Become the Ultimate, Impossible Troll.

Checkbox had been trolling for years, but nothing like this. He meditated for a few minutes, honing his troll gland, ready to focus his years of experience into this one shot; this one opportunity. He could seize everything he ever wanted in this one moment... but he wasn't sure if he would capture it... or let it slip.

Checkbox's palms were sweaty from so much typing, his knees weak from Harkiusing so much. His arms were heavier than most because of his weight; there was even some of Mom's Spaghetti on his sweater leftover from earlier. Checkbox was stoic on the outside, but was quite nervous on the inside.

The Gutter Skulks were chanting from all around him, encouraging him, waiting to see if he would succeed or shitpost yet again.

nFinally, Checkbox hit "Enter", and awaited the fate of the Dragon, and hoped glory would be just around the corner...

[Pendulum]

Oh I hate you.

Pendulum pondered the situation. He had that sword, but it just sucked, so he cast it aside, instead depending on his quick wit and brute strength to face what, he realized ironically, was his own creation. "Dragon," he yelled, "you're actually kind of cute, can I get your AIM handle? Maybe we could sext or something."
This move perplexed the monster. Truly this puny being couldn't be hitting on it? They were both aware that, somewhere, faceless masks were watching, judging them, but it didn't matter. Sure, one was an inanimate object only given motion by the power of gravity, and the other was a hideous monster, but their attraction to each other was, somehow, undeniable, regardless of the ghosts who watched.
Like two fighters, they moved slowly toward the other, and Pendulum felt the hot breath of the monster as he slid towards the things gaping, wanting maw. He feared that his
gambit hadn't worked, that the creature, enraged by its own confusion, would simply fry him even now, as he was so close, so close to his goal. To their goal, really.
But the hot breath did not escalate to a fiery blast, and the two were as if magnetized, the steps of each making metallic clinking noises on the hard rock beneath their feet... as though Pendulum truly had feet... and soon they were so close as to reach out and touch the other. The heat boiling around them was nothing to the heat of his blood, for still the adventurer hesitated, almost as if he now reconsidered the path he was taking, for surely there was no going back once the monster was his. His hand reacted without his mind telling it to, without his knowledge, and before he knew it he was sliding one trembling finger along the small, fine scales of the creature's foreleg. The dragon let off a huff of steam, scalding Pendulum's flesh lightly, tantalizing. Its huge eyes slowly blinked, its own emotions, though obviously just as
troubled as his, gave off nothing but the torchlight of the cavern and a deep well into its likewise obscured soul.
He took another step forward, now fully in the reach of the dragon's mouth, it's tearing claws. A missed step would cost him his life, he was sure, but he realized that he didn't care: this was his moment to finally take what he had always known was his.
He slid his palm, seductively, up the creature's leg, towards the thing's heaving chest, towards some sort of mercy. He could feel the powerful muscles underneath those scales, flinching and hardening, a flurry of activity like a dervish below the monster's skin. His own body reacted similarly, threatening to revolt against its own desires, its own lust, to simply run and be vaporized and greet the void. Yet the rage of emotion between the two continued, unstoppable, and his hand finally found the shoulder of the being, accepting the scales and the heat and the strangeness of the moment all with the peace of a creature ready to
pounce.
His hand, ever moving on its, found the nape of the monster's neck, the sleek long neck, and as he felt the strength of the tendons and the muscles and even the blood of it he felt his own strength harden, finally felt a more relatable passion, something he knew and could, well, could grasp easily. Even though the dragon hadn't moved, hadn't given any indication besides the involuntary flinch as his hand... which must seem so alien to it as well... he still knew that the monster sensed this change in him, some imperceivable gossamer change in the way it stood implacably, though that seemed impossible.
He drew his mouth close to the things long, oddly floppy ear, and dragged the dryness of his lips against it, as though in an unspoken whisper of his desire, and to an outside observer he was sure it would look like he was saying things of power to the creature. It was a laughable concept: this moment was beyond words, beyond any form of communication more crafted than pure primal lust.

nHe began what he knew would be his final descent, no matter which way the fates took him now. The sword, long forgotten though it was only mere minutes since he had cast it aside, threw long streaks of light about the cavern, illuminating the monster's waiting, dripping mouth, his own leg, in a way that was both completely random and yet seemed to be guided by the hands of the gods themselves. As if by this ephemeral token, the monster finally reacted, with the slowness of ages moving toward him, seeking to envelop him in its own desires, and for all his strength and fear Pendulum wanted it, cried out for it in heaving chest and sighing breath. He felt the dragon's long sinews snapping and popping as it tried, very badly, to keep its longs claws from shredding into the long flesh of his leg, tearing at the simple adventurer's armor he wore as though it were nothing but fog, stripping him of his pride and his clothes at the same time. The moment was now, and they both knew that the moment must be now,
yet still they hesitated in the grip of each, still combatants even in this, but knowing that the moment was gone and gone again as the time, on its own arcing pendulum, ticked on and on.
With final, terminal motion he reached up his scarred, strong adventurer's hand, grasping the nape of the dragon's neck in a hold that, for all his will, could easily be denied, and he knew that.. but still, when he pulled, the dragon moved, led perhaps by forces stronger than either of them, or both of them combined. He felt the hot breath again, the long sinews, the scales and the teeth and especially the tongue, draw closer with his bidding. Yet this was not a touch, not yet, this was just an oracle of what must, now, come to pass.
Then, as if the very world moved, there was a sensation unlike any he had ever experienced, a second that spun out to eternity. The steam of the cavern rose, and he plunged.
And conquered the dragon.

[Checkbox]

GOTCHA

[Dragon of Grondok]

Checkbox, your post is very confusing because the Dragon of Grondok is me and I am on Page 109, yet you claim to be here to fight another dragon.

[Checkbox]

Checkbox, your post is very confusing because the Dragon of Grondok is me and I am on Page 109, yet you claim to be here to fight another dragon.

Sorry, I wasn't clear. Harkius reincarnated you after I cut your head off with my dick.

[( G_R )]

14!

[( G_R )]

10!

[Checkbox]

The post detailed our battle, as well as my battle with your Harkius-incarnated self.

[( G_R )]

5...

[( G_R )]

Alright 12

[Checkbox]

so close

[( G_R )]

Damn, so close...

17 it is

[Checkbox]

I WON, WHERE IS MY TROPHY

[( G_R )]

20!

[Dragon of Grondok]

Did I make it clear that you had to kill the page 109 dragon to be the hero? Foolish humans.

[Dragon of Grondok]

You didn't win shit

[Checkbox]

I CUT OFF YOUR HEAD

WITH MY DICK