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Let's create the worst fantasy setting ever.


Monte Carlo

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Some excellent stuff here, but Virumor's contribution is especially awful: cliche ridden, derivative, full of silly, pretentious naming conventions largely free of vowels.

 

I salute you.

 

Here I present you with a fallen elven anti-hero who hopefully is as awful.

 

X'Yaris D'Athbringer of the Nightvelvet Helm hefted his mighty war-blade, Heart-Eater, and contemplated his foe. The hated Corsairs of Odge, scarlet-clad pirates wielding cruelly curved swords and wearing the ears of their enemies in their hats, snarled and spat on the deck of the Moon-Cutter Sh'Rll. They had already slain his faithul retainer, Z'larg, a deaf mute Kozolani, one of the hardy reptilemen that live under the Scoldingash Mountains. He had died bravely, performing a blood-spattered calypso of death with his spear. A dozen Corsairs had fallen by his hand already, their heads and other bodyparts littering the bloodstained decking.

 

"By the Night-Lord!" cried X'Yaris, his heavy, ash-coloured mail sodden with blood and his long yellow hair falling in bloodied strands across his face. Heart-Eater split the first corsair in two and X'Yaris cried a a hideous cackle as he fell on the next pirate. The Corsairs of Odge knew that they were, indeed, in the presence of the companion of death and prepared for oblivion as the mighty elven war-sword glittered and danced and spilt hot blood like it was the unique Zxly't''ian chocolate drink they call "Drthhyl'op."

 

"Ouch!" They cried as they were split asunder.

 

Then, like the first and unexpectedly sudden ray of sunlight piercing a particularly fat raincloud, a young woman dressed in white appeared on the deck between the dark elven swordsman and the ragged curs of Odge.

 

"Hold, X'Yaris D'Atbringer," she said. Her large amber eyes and ridiculously short skirt marked her as one of the warrior sun-maidens of Laaaa, the golden god of all that is good and banishing all that is bad.

 

A corsair lunged at her with his sword, and she snapped her fingers. A cloud of light engulfed the pirates and they were taken by the destructive rapture of Laaaa, melting like candals tossed into the giant hell volcano of the war-god Xok.

 

"Enough of this mortal foolery," she said, fixing him with a stern but actually rather hot stare, "The sun-maidens of Laaaa seek your assistance, hell-bound avatar of chaos. The ancient dead sorceror-god of F'lik' stirs again. Can we count on your fealty?"

 

"Perhaps..." said X'Yaris...

 

(hopefully not to be continued)

You need to have the hero be a peasant boy with a stick who is able to do all that... and then later he falls for and wins the heart of the head sun-maiden and god approves even if he doesn't like the idea of non virgins... then they have a jesus baby and live happily ever after.

Victor of the 5 year fan fic competition!

 

Kevin Butler will awesome your face off.

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X'Yaris D'Athbringer of the Nightvelvet Helm hefted his mighty war-blade, Heart-Eater, and contemplated his foe. The hated Corsairs of Odge, scarlet-clad pirates wielding cruelly curved swords and wearing the ears of their enemies in their hats, snarled and spat on the deck of the Moon-Cutter Sh'Rll. They had already slain his faithul retainer, Z'larg, a deaf mute Kozolani, one of the hardy reptilemen that live under the Scoldingash Mountains. He had died bravely, performing a blood-spattered calypso of death with his spear. A dozen Corsairs had fallen by his hand already, their heads and other bodyparts littering the bloodstained decking.

 

"By the Night-Lord!" cried X'Yaris, his heavy, ash-coloured mail sodden with blood and his long yellow hair falling in bloodied strands across his face. Heart-Eater split the first corsair in two and X'Yaris cried a a hideous cackle as he fell on the next pirate. The Corsairs of Odge knew that they were, indeed, in the presence of the companion of death and prepared for oblivion as the mighty elven war-sword glittered and danced and spilt hot blood like it was the unique Zxly't''ian chocolate drink they call "Drthhyl'op."

 

"Ouch!" They cried as they were split asunder.

 

Then, like the first and unexpectedly sudden ray of sunlight piercing a particularly fat raincloud, a young woman dressed in white appeared on the deck between the dark elven swordsman and the ragged curs of Odge.

 

"Hold, X'Yaris D'Atbringer," she said. Her large amber eyes and ridiculously short skirt marked her as one of the warrior sun-maidens of Laaaa, the golden god of all that is good and banishing all that is bad.

 

A corsair lunged at her with his sword, and she snapped her fingers. A cloud of light engulfed the pirates and they were taken by the destructive rapture of Laaaa, melting like candals tossed into the giant hell volcano of the war-god Xok.

 

"Enough of this mortal foolery," she said, fixing him with a stern but actually rather hot stare, "The sun-maidens of Laaaa seek your assistance, hell-bound avatar of chaos. The ancient dead sorceror-god of F'lik' stirs again. Can we count on your fealty?"

 

"Perhaps..." said X'Yaris...

 

(hopefully not to be continued)

World of Warcraft meets Elric of Melnibon

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.

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X'Yaris D'Athbringer of the Nightvelvet Helm hefted his mighty war-blade, Heart-Eater, and contemplated his foe. The hated Corsairs of Odge, scarlet-clad pirates wielding cruelly curved swords and wearing the ears of their enemies in their hats, snarled and spat on the deck of the Moon-Cutter Sh'Rll. They had already slain his faithul retainer, Z'larg, a deaf mute Kozolani, one of the hardy reptilemen that live under the Scoldingash Mountains. He had died bravely, performing a blood-spattered calypso of death with his spear. A dozen Corsairs had fallen by his hand already, their heads and other bodyparts littering the bloodstained decking.

 

"By the Night-Lord!" cried X'Yaris, his heavy, ash-coloured mail sodden with blood and his long yellow hair falling in bloodied strands across his face. Heart-Eater split the first corsair in two and X'Yaris cried a a hideous cackle as he fell on the next pirate. The Corsairs of Odge knew that they were, indeed, in the presence of the companion of death and prepared for oblivion as the mighty elven war-sword glittered and danced and spilt hot blood like it was the unique Zxly't''ian chocolate drink they call "Drthhyl'op."

 

"Ouch!" They cried as they were split asunder.

 

Then, like the first and unexpectedly sudden ray of sunlight piercing a particularly fat raincloud, a young woman dressed in white appeared on the deck between the dark elven swordsman and the ragged curs of Odge.

 

"Hold, X'Yaris D'Atbringer," she said. Her large amber eyes and ridiculously short skirt marked her as one of the warrior sun-maidens of Laaaa, the golden god of all that is good and banishing all that is bad.

 

A corsair lunged at her with his sword, and she snapped her fingers. A cloud of light engulfed the pirates and they were taken by the destructive rapture of Laaaa, melting like candals tossed into the giant hell volcano of the war-god Xok.

 

"Enough of this mortal foolery," she said, fixing him with a stern but actually rather hot stare, "The sun-maidens of Laaaa seek your assistance, hell-bound avatar of chaos. The ancient dead sorceror-god of F'lik' stirs again. Can we count on your fealty?"

 

"Perhaps..." said X'Yaris...

 

(hopefully not to be continued)

World of Warcraft meets Elric of Melnibon

Victor of the 5 year fan fic competition!

 

Kevin Butler will awesome your face off.

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...

 

Actually read something from Knaak... the guy has the WORST mary sue in the WORLD, at least in his warcraft books. Rhonin has about the personality of a cardboard cutout, an elf wife and two half elf children... then he went back in time and fought in the war that sundered the world, and taught Illidan (who was the most powerful mage in the world, and who went insane and had to be put down like old yeller in Burning Crusade) how to use magic.

Tell me you're joking.

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a Scottish-accented dwarf here,

aw, the howling one will be disappointed.

 

a chainmail bikini there

let's not even consider your preferred attire. i know, it may be close minded of me, but hey, a guy's got to have some standards. you in a chainmail bikini... get outta here!

 

taks

comrade taks... just because.

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I'm surprised nobody mentioned the uber-powerful wizard/weaponmaster/whatever who tries to attain godhood/ conquer the world but then gets killed by a few angry peasants.

In 7th grade, I teach the students how Chuck Norris took down the Roman Empire, so it is good that you are starting early on this curriculum.

 

R.I.P. KOTOR 2003-2008 KILLED BY THOSE GREEDY MONEY-HOARDING ************* AND THEIR *****-*** MMOS

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...

 

Actually read something from Knaak... the guy has the WORST mary sue in the WORLD, at least in his warcraft books. Rhonin has about the personality of a cardboard cutout, an elf wife and two half elf children... then he went back in time and fought in the war that sundered the world, and taught Illidan (who was the most powerful mage in the world, and who went insane and had to be put down like old yeller in Burning Crusade) how to use magic.

Tell me you're joking.

Negatory there captain. It's all in Knaaks "war of the ancients" trilogy.

Victor of the 5 year fan fic competition!

 

Kevin Butler will awesome your face off.

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...

 

Actually read something from Knaak... the guy has the WORST mary sue in the WORLD, at least in his warcraft books. Rhonin has about the personality of a cardboard cutout, an elf wife and two half elf children... then he went back in time and fought in the war that sundered the world, and taught Illidan (who was the most powerful mage in the world, and who went insane and had to be put down like old yeller in Burning Crusade) how to use magic.

Tell me you're joking.

Negatory there captain. It's all in Knaaks "war of the ancients" trilogy.

 

Rhonin was half interesting in day of the dragon when he wasn't in OMG pre-parent mode, even though he was deathwing's bitch during a good portion of the story.

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Have we mentioned the hero with a dark past, the amnesiac hero and the hero who had his village burned down by the bad guy?

 

Maybe a combination of the three? The hero has his village burned down by a bad guy, then wakes up 10 years later with no memories of what happened in between and it is up to him to discover the dark past.

"Alright, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade - make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager. Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons. Do you know who I am? I'm the man who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons. I'm going to to get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!"

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Maybe the dark past is that he himself burned the village down, because of delusions?

 

 

You know, that's sounds kinda good, I couldn't call this a bad setting/backstory. : x

 

Edited by Oner
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"MEANWHILE the gates of Paphnutius all-powerful Ope;

And the father of gods and king of men calls a council unto his sidereal seat,

whence high aloft he looks on all the world,

On X'kkkkrul camp and Lelilulilileluli tribe.

They partake of their seats in yond hall with ye portales twain, and he begins:"

(cont. p. 94)

This particularly rapid, unintelligible patter isn't generally heard, and if it is, it doesn't matter.

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Maybe the dark past is that he himself burned the village down, because of delusions?

 

That... could actually be a nice twist on the amnesiac/dark past clich

Edited by WILL THE ALMIGHTY

"Alright, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade - make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager. Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons. Do you know who I am? I'm the man who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons. I'm going to to get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!"

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Maybe the dark past is that he himself burned the village down, because of delusions?

 

That... could actually be a nice twist on the amnesiac/dark past clich

Edited by Darth InSidious

This particularly rapid, unintelligible patter isn't generally heard, and if it is, it doesn't matter.

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Maybe the dark past is that he himself burned the village down, because of delusions?

 

That... could actually be a nice twist on the amnesiac/dark past clich

Edited by Oner
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Oh, the Lelilulilileluli tribes are also dying out due to an inherited and uncontrollable desire to swim the Unending Ocean.

This particularly rapid, unintelligible patter isn't generally heard, and if it is, it doesn't matter.

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No, they should be dying out because of an undead plague. Its never really specified wtf this plague is, it just is.

"Alright, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade - make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager. Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons. Do you know who I am? I'm the man who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons. I'm going to to get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!"

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We do have to have the friggin awesome (or designed that way at least) person who does everything as cinematically perfect as possible, but only really shows up for one or two levels.

Victor of the 5 year fan fic competition!

 

Kevin Butler will awesome your face off.

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And for a eight-thousand years they were at war with the Dwarf-Kings of Spukkelsturm, the Hidden Fiefdom of the Nine Mountains and the Eighth Mishap of Taraglock The Dyspepsic.

The Dwarf-Kings of Sppkklstrrm should speak Grkkvfgg, a language notable for having absolutely no vowels.

"An electric puddle is not what I need right now." (Nina Kalenkov)

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And for a eight-thousand years they were at war with the Dwarf-Kings of Spukkelsturm, the Hidden Fiefdom of the Nine Mountains and the Eighth Mishap of Taraglock The Dyspepsic.

The Dwarf-Kings of Sppkklstrrm should speak Grkkvfgg, a language notable for having absolutely no vowels.

 

Known in the common tongue as gutterspeak >_<

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