Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.

Topics - Rando

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 5
warning: powerful thread incoming.

General Discussion / Believe Women.
« on: October 26, 2018, 12:24:55 PM »
lol sike

Battle for Wesnoth is a simple turn-based strategy game, free on steam:

The first team of four to defeat myself, Tristan, Elvandin and Tanzo will win a loompoint each. Post in this thread and contact Tristan or I to set up a match.

NA (Official) / Ban Salad_Fork for intentional teamkilling & brocoding
« on: October 19, 2018, 01:23:41 AM »
1. Name of your character involved: randingo_gamertamer
2. Name of offending character(s): salad_fork
3. Time and server, as accurately as possible 4:17 PM PST (7 EST) NA_1
4. Written description of what happened, the whole story. Also what happened before and after. : I had an x5 and push nudged salad towards the flag as the last enemy alive was nowhere to be found. He turned around and TKed me with one swing, and then it was him + uwu vs the last enemy alive. He forced uwu to fight the last person alive alone, and then easily died himself without trying after uwu did, causing us to lose our multiplier. I said I'd ban thread him if he failed to win the round after teamkilling me, and ESPECIALLY after brocoding the last enemy alive, so here it is.
5. Why you think the offender did what he did.: Because he's a massive retard.
6. Multiple Screenshots
visitors can't see pics , please register or login

7. Names of players that can witness what happened.
uwu, jroy, vandahl, OKatana, King_Daniel_Visigoth, Elder_Luker, TipTicklerTwinkle
For their convenience, I screenshot them corroborating what happened so they didn't have to bother coming on the forums.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login

General Discussion / Name the player: Website Description Edition
« on: October 16, 2018, 08:54:54 AM »
DONT ASK ME TO SIGN AGAINST HOC select acre members OR BRD or kale

Diplomacy / Open offer of purchasing strat troops
« on: October 07, 2018, 03:37:51 PM »
Hey gamers, buying strat troops for 1,000 silver each. Message me on steam here and I'll let you know where to meet up with me.

Spam / Ban Bofa!
« on: August 31, 2018, 04:09:43 AM »
deez nuts rofl

General Discussion / King James of Acre hits NA_3 Strat with the hard R
« on: August 19, 2018, 12:50:57 AM »
I saw it. You saw it. We all saw it.

Here's the real issue at hand: How do we deal with this? Personally, I would accept a permanent forum pardon for Yuhmaz as reparations, but suggestions are welcome as always.

General Off Topic / The Ogre - A Short Story By Rando
« on: August 14, 2018, 07:37:37 PM »
I stayed up all night again and started writing some shit, I wrote it in wordpad so it looks like ass on the forums lmao. I recommend making your browser thinner for easier reading

A small, humble village of humans with a connected community of tree-dwelling elves bordered a vast swamp: it was as green as any meadowed countryside, but starkly became a rancid dark green at the edge of the swamp. In one of the few dozen huts lived a small half-elf boy of 20 years, aptly called by his peers "Little Peter". He lay asleep one morning in his familiar hearth, when the similarly familiar nagging voice of his mother abruptly woke him from his peaceful slumber.

"PETEY!" his mother's shrill cry rang out. "It's time for you to wake up, little dove."

Pretending to be asleep, he attempted to stay as still as the old statue of a long-forgotten hero of man and merkind at the center of their village. Knowing her son and his tricks well, his mother contiuously gave him a gentle shake to prevent his descent back into sleep.

"Alright, alright already, Maaaa!" Little Peter whinily moaned as he began to stir.

"Good, I've got something for you to do. I know you've never gone far out of the village before, but I need you to deliver something to your auntie across the swamp.", his mother stated frankly.

"W-what?!? Across the swamp? But, ma-"

"Absolutely no buts, Peter. It's about time you left this place and experienced some independence for once! If you can do mommy a favor while you're at it, all the better!", she interrupted with a musically playful tone. "Besides, the swamps have been safe for years... We have your father to thank for that, you know."

Peter's expression turned somber at the mention of his father.

"Don't remind me... I'm never going to be like him, no matter how hard I try.", Peter replied with a defeated tone.

"Oh, Peter... That's just nonsense! His blood flows through your veins, after all! Where's the HUMAN side in you? I simply can't wait to see you come into your own! He was about your age when he and I... You know."

"MOM!!! I told you to stop saying that all the time!", Peter said with a raised voice and clearly flushed face.

"Oh, excuse me hun... You know how I get when my thoughts turn to him. I suppose being 20 years old as an elf and 20 years old as a human are worlds apart.", Peter's mother said as she did her best to hide her disappointment.

Peter didn't like to be reminded of his father, or the fiery night of passion that created him that fateful night. It had caused him much pain and strife throughout his life; pain and strife nobody seemed to appreciate but himself. As he silently wallowed in his self-pity, his mother exited his room to fetch the package he was to deliver. She hurriedly strut back into the room with a straw-woven basket seeminly full to the brim, covered with a green cloth, which she carefully placed on the ground in front of Peter.

"Here. Take this to your auntie, and don't keep her waiting! She can get quite grumpy when she runs ou- er, I mean to say that she's simply impatient. Get going now, honey!~"

Tired of the conversation, Peter didn't protest to find out what his mother was going to say. He didn't particularly care about this aunt who he had seldom seen throughout his life, although the thought of an angry middle-aged elf woman who had borne no children terrified him. He grudgingly took up the basket, and awaited another item from his mother.

"What are you staring at, hun? It's time to get going.", she said to him, noticing that he seemed to be expecting something else.

"You mean you want me to go without a sword?!?", Peter replied in a manner which was half shocked & half terrified.

"Oh, sweetheart... There's nothing in that swamp that can hurt you. Unlike all those human boys in the village...", His mother replied, seemingly entirely insensitive to Peter's fears or daily struggles.

Peter had heard enough, and before tears could well up from his eyes, he stomped out of the front door of their hovel. His eyes immediately caught the form of the statue, as always. Nobody knew whether the statue was originally of a man or an elf - the details were lost to the ages.

"If only I had such strength..", Peter somberly thought to himself.

As he began his short travel towards the swamp, he heard a loud taunt he'd heard a hundred times before.

"Hey, li'l Petey!"

Peter turned to face the mocking greeting. It was none other than Chad, a human boy of 16, and Little Peter's foremost bully for as long as he could remember. Peter was frightened, but he knew all he could do was turn back around and stride faster towards the swamp.

"HEY! I'm talkin' to you, knife-ears! Can'tcha hear me with those big ol' pointy things?!"

Though the tired old insult still cut Peter's soft heart, he knew not what to do but continue walking. He did not want to add a beating to his list of tasks for the day.

"Yer goin' to the swamp, aren'tcha? Well, I won't stop ya, but I can't say I envy ya.", Chad said in a tone which was uncharacteristically neutral, almost empathetic.

Peter was shocked by this, instinctively turning to face Chad, unable to hide his bewilderment.

"Oh, quit lookin' at me like ya just found out I'm yer dad. Surely you've heard about the critters in the swamp, haven'tcha?", Chad said matter-of-factly.

"M-m-my Ma said that everything dangerous in the swamp was cl-cleared out, years ago...", Peter managed to stutter in reply.

"Heh heh. Yeah, that's what they say, isn't it? Heh heh heh." Chad turned around from the small elf as he chuckled, clearly amused by Peter's naivety.

"What is that supposed to mean? Ch-Chad?!? Chad!!!" Peter cried out after his bully, finding himself wanting to hear what he had to say for the very first time. There was no use, however - Chad simply continued to walk back to the village, and presumably his regular daily routine. Peter was on his own.

The fear began to truly set in as the swamp grew larger and the village behind him grew smaller. Chad was a brute and a bully, but he was no fool; and Peter had not known him to bluff or tell lies.

"Well... Oh, what am I thinking?! I'm trusting the word of Chad over my own mother!?! There's nothing in that swamp, the Elders confirmed it themselves.", Peter thought, attempting to reassure himself. It did him no good, however - fear had gripped him to his very core, and the elf-blood within him made sure the grip would not falter for anything but the safety of his hearth, and the caressing arms of his mother whom he held so bittersweet in his soul.

Peter's body shook. The edge of the swamp was but a step ahead of him - the smell had overtook his sensitive nose fourty steps ago.

"Smells worse than mating pigs...", Peter complained to himself.

The stench was the least of his worries, however offensive it may have been. The swamp was dark, and draped with mud, pools of rank water, & uneven footing alike. The many insects flew around their rotten paradise, oblivious to the horror of the small thinking being which was petrified before them.

"Why am I even doing this...? For a measly package? Ma must be trying to trick me...", Peter spoke to himself as he set down the woven basket he'd carried onto the last grass before the sharp beginning of the swamp. Nervous about the prospect of peeking on another's mail, Peter hesitated.

"No... No, I deserve to know what I'm enduring this horror for!", Peter exclaimed in a rare but short-lived moment of self-esteem.

Removing the green cloth revealed three bottles of homemade elven wine. Bright red, they were the pride of his village's production - at least, from the elven side of the community.

"I'm going across the Gods-forsaken SWAMP so that my aunt can drink WINE!?!? Just when I thought things couldn't get any more ludicrous...", shouted an outraged Little Peter.

"...I hope Ma was right about this.", he said in a quieter tone. He never could stay angry for long, if his anger could really be considered "anger". Conflicted between his fear of returning with the task incomplete, and his primal fear of the unknown that dwelled within the unwelcoming swamp, Peter came to embrace a blind trust in the words of his mother, and the deeds of his father before him. He took up his aunt's precious wine, and stepped into the swamp.

Each step Peter made created a slurching sound. He knew his boots were ruined after a mere twenty paces, but he was more concerned with the fact that he would soon be surrounded by swamp on all sides.

"Just keep going east... Just keep going east...", Peter chanted to himself aloud, as if he may forget due to the fear which assaulted his acute senses in this vile kingdom of sludge & slime.

Peter had practically put himself in a daze after an hour walking slowly but surely through the swamp. Buzzing insects had played for his ears for so long & steadily that he could practically no longer hear them.

"Just.. Keep going east...", Peter continued his mantra, in a slower & more monotone manner. He was no longer himself, mentally; the constant fear and sensory overstimulation had broken something within him, almost as if his self had retreated into a castle within his own mind. Who can say whether Peter followed his mantra, and continued east? He could certainly no longer say with any confidence, were he able to say anything but his hypnotic swamp mantra.

"Just keep... going ea-"

Peter's foot was caught on the wandering root of a tree, and his words were replaced with the disgusting mixture of swamp mud. In his frantic attempt to keep his balance as he fell, the precious bottles of elven wine took flight, leaping forward through the air as if their own will bid them to the aunt who would drink them, despite their courier having fallen.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCHHHHHHHHHH!!! PTOO!!! PPPPPPPPTTTTOOOOOOOOOO!!!!", Peter awoke from his catatonic fear-slumber, desperately spitting out the swamp matter which gagged him.

"Ugh... Ach... Gross!!! PTOO! Unnnnhhh... Damned swamp! I hate it! I hate it, hate it, hate it!!! I want to go home! Why did I come here? Where am I?!?! Oh, Gods... Ma, please send someone to help me...", Peter lamented. Yet he had not lamented enough, for he noticed that ahead of him lay the basket, and the mixture of bright-red wine dripping from the trunk of a powerful tree with dark green swamp soup, with glass pieces scattered about the fateful tree's exposed roots. Peter felt a sense of utter horror and hopelessness take over him: whatever little optimism he had for the completion of his first trial of manhood was now as shattered as his aunt's wine. What his keen sense had failed to recognize, is the piercing sound the bottles made as they crashed against the mighty tree.

Peter began to sob, for he knew not what to do, and could not keep the tears at bay. He did not think; merely sobbed impotently, stranded in the middle of a hostile environment, perhaps holding out hope that someone from the village might hear his pitiful sounds of failure.

He heard no sounds of friendly voices, no shouts of his name nor footsteps of men or elf. What he heard next shot cold ice through his veins: stomping. Footsteps of a being too large to be human, or elf, or even orc. Slow, steady stomps which shook the earth and unsettled the swamp with waves. Peter was petrified; he could only pray that what was happening was a dream, a nightmare which fulfilled his darkest fears in only a way his own mind could. His prayers went unanswered, as he heard a bellowing, grotesque voice:


Peter felt his knees weaken at the sound and raw power of the voice which asked the question. Hearing such a thing felt like violence being done unto him, and he could not answer with his voice; although the mixture of yellow which began to appear in the swamp murk beneath Peter's knees was answer enough.


Peter instinctively shot his gaze towards the direction of the sudden crash, which was unlike anything he'd ever heard before. The tree which broke his aunt's wine was cracked in half: the top half completely horizontal. The hulking shadow next to the tree was beyond Peter's imagination: A green, rotund, warted abomination with antenna-like ears, decent only by a strip of animal hide dangling between its thick, short legs. Its abdomen bulged, looking deceptively overweight, the monstrosity which stood before peter could be nothing but an Ogre from the stories he'd heard from his father as a younger child. It was a creature spawned of the darkest of Hells, made of pure muscle - Peter had always thought the stories exagerrated, but looking upon the thing before him, it was clear it could tear apart the mightiest of warriors with ease.

Peter's instincts failed him, as Peter had always failed in life. He could not move, could not run, could not reply to the horror before him; only sit and wait in his own mess for the disgusting creature to make the decision of what would happen next for him. His miserable life flashed before his eyes, as he had heard happens when a man faces his death: he remembered details he thought long forgotten. His thoughts naturally strayed to his father, who had a legacy he could never hope to live up to. He wondered if his mother had not been so disappointed with who he had become, that she had sent him on this task to die. The giant green swamp-dweller's club crushed him utterly, sending his fragile limbs aflight throughout its vast home, painting the surface of the muck with sprinkles & bits of pink, and Peter could wonder no more.

General Discussion / Name one reason to be alive in 2018.
« on: August 12, 2018, 06:01:14 PM »
nah you can't, thread closed.

General Discussion / Yuhmaz Official Music Video
« on: August 11, 2018, 02:06:58 PM »

General Discussion / Yuhmaz has been unmuted
« on: August 02, 2018, 10:38:14 AM »
Can James withstand the onslaught?

NA (Official) / Smug cheater merrrica hasn't changed his ways.
« on: July 31, 2018, 03:36:51 AM »

In the first clip, you'll notice that he first dies without being able to block a single swing (despite trying), then respawns and can suddenly block! Really makes you think. In clip #2, you'll notice him arcing his shots over a hill, landing a kill on a guy he couldn't have possibly seen from where he was. In the third and final clip, you'll notice him take aim, and then suddenly snap 200 degrees or so to an enemy that was running up behind him (sauce). Since he's an admitted cheater, and smug cunt, I figured he's probably still cheating. You decide for yourself.

Here's his eerily sociopathic post from the discord:

merrricaLast Wednesday at 9:39 PM
@Tristan I understand your disgust, but you have a few things wrong. First, I didn't beg anyone to come back, I'm just came back and want to enjoy the game like everyone else. second, I'm not too worried about having your respect (even though I'll respect your admin position and thanks for doing that, no matter how much of a dick) and third, you are talking out your ass. Unless you are a .net developer, know C, shit, know any language besides markdown, then you might understand dynmic link libraries. But yeah, I wasn't 100 percent legit cause of that and I apogize. Great game here and community, even the dick heads, but it's because they are passsionate about the game

General Discussion / How to cleanse dirty knickers
« on: July 27, 2018, 12:53:25 AM »

Join Our Discord Today:

General Off Topic / The French Football Team Should Thank Africa
« on: July 21, 2018, 11:49:45 AM »

Well? We're waiting, France. Thank Niger for winning the soccer championship for you!

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 5