Flood I have decided to write you an Epic story that might just span more than 4 paragraphs, this is what I have so far, I hope you enjoy it. And please give me tips on things I should change and any ideas for story would be most welcome. I have already had a thread for this story but I have now combined all that I have wrote so far, please make comments and you may ask to be included in my story. I also wouldn't mind any story ideas, it would be most helpful. [b]Lost Tales of the Flood: An unexpected draft[/b] There is a small house carved into the side of a hill, surrounded by lush beautiful green hills and small pine trees. Now a house carved into the side of a hill might seem peculiar to you and I, but to the small village known as Floodia it was common architecture. Floodia, was a small village in the world known as the internet. It did not have the infamy and evils of 4chan (the cess pool of the land of Internets) nor did it have the flocks of all sorts of odd folk like Facebook, it wasn't abandoned like MySpace and it wasn't big on markets and trading as eBay; No, Floodia was a peaceful place, well, as peaceful as the world of the Internet can be. But the flamewars are never big and the protectors of Floodia ,known as ninja's are always close by to stop any threat, even if that means sentencing innocent folk to a three day sentence... Villages of Floodia, or Floodians as they are known as, are a short (though some are rather lanky), "humble" and hairy people, most of them are of fairer skin due to their love of the safe confines of a warm house (this is why they tend to live underground). There is the pony lovers to the east, the fan boys to the west and the Dinklberg's and town drunks to the north and south ends of town. Hmmm it appears that I have have gotten rather ahead of myself... Upon the porch of this humble little home sits a mid sized scruffy bearded Floodian smoking a long wooden pipe, with an old broken book laying flat upon his chest. This man, is Good Travis (well, if of course a Floodian can even be considered). Good Travis might not have been the most well respected of the Floodians, but he was very well known. He loved the attention, even if it was more infamy than fame. Good Travis, as he is called, was once noted as being like The Floodian's dog, he collected what they had thrown away, pissed on their posts, humped ladies legs and never bathed. But Good Travis longed for an adventure,much like a fruit wants to be stolen or teh puma longs for his prey. He loved the storys of old, the adventure ones, in fact Good Travis had probably read all the books in Floodia (exept the girly ones by Rhea). Good Travis wished long and hard for his own adventure, and one day it found him... (As did pubic lice, but that stroy can wait) [url=http://img805.imageshack.us/img805/531/goodtravis2.jpg]A picture of Good Travis[/url] It was a cold spring morning, yet rather sunny when Recon number 54 arrived. He was riding an old white horse who appeared to have quite alot of trouble making its way up the hill. The horse's mane and Recons long grey beard appeared as one, a normal Floodian would not be able to tell the difference, even if they were having a closer inspection. He wore a long grey cloak and has a brimmed wizards hat. He had bushy eyebrows like that on a caveman and carried a long staff in which he called his [i]ban-hammer[/i]. Recons trips to Floodia were short and few, but when he came around it was either to stir up the already rabid Floodian children with crazy stories from the great north, or to announce some crazy plan of his. Almost all Floodians knew is that when they saw Recon number 54 riding into town, peace would not stay for long. Children chased after recon as they usually do when an old mysterious man rides into town, Recon of course just smiled and waved and made his way around town. Recon was of the ancient and powerful order known as the Moderators; their job is to keep the world of the Internet safe. Recon is the oldest and therefore most well respected of the mods. But his arm only reaches as far as the realm known as Bungie. Recon rode on his stumbling horse until he reached Mr Good Travis's gate. He pulled an old rag out from his brown leather bag and wiped his forehead. "Asleep on the job are you" asked Recon "I am not sleeping, and nor am I working" replied Good Travis "And nor do you ever. So what is it that you are doing outside in the cold like this, when usually a Floodian of your age and calibre are doing their daily poop and then only just getting out of bed" "If you must know, I always wake at this time, as my mother once said the early bird gets the worm and the earlier man shoots the bird and makes it into some type of pie". Good Travis paused for a moment." Now if you don't mind me asking what are you doing back in Floodia?" asked Good Travis with a smirk. Recons face grew grim, "I bring great tidings from the north" Travis slowly raised his right eyebrow above his left. "They're building an army" said recon, lowering both his bushy eyebrows. "They have already breached the gates to the north that keeps us safe from the dark trolls of the Internets; they are slowly coming towards the city of Floodopolis from the several mountains of Bungie" "Who Recon? who would do such thing?" asked Travis. "Spammers my dear boy...and if I am correct this peaceful village will remain so no longer" Recon said while adjusting his hat. "What do you purpose we do then?" "Um,we?" replied Recon "Well I don't think an old man like yourself could carry a task such as this on his own" "Number one, I am no man; I am a Forum ninja, a moderator and two I have not yet revealed my plan" "fair enough" said Good Travis "Hmmm, are you entirely sure you want to come along? What about your parents? Will they be okay with this?" asked Recon "My parents are dead, remember that fishing trip? It was during one of their monthly arguments, mum pushed dad into the lake and dad pulled mom down with him. Meaning that I am the last in my family, the last Travopian, I'm no longer tied down, more like tied up with the perils of this quest" Recon looked surprised. "I'm sorry for your loss, I take it that there is no convincing you otherwise?" "Nope" "Well then, pack lightly; we shall head off tomorrow morning to Morningwood to warn them of the incoming attack, and possibly buy some bagels...mmm, bagels". [Edited on 10.27.2011 12:19 AM PDT]