Once, there was peace. And it was good. (Ok, enough with the anamatrix.) Once, in days long gone, we were happy. Kind to each other. Using proper grammar. All was well, and we prospered. But then... came the horror. The terror. What was the cause? Venture deeper and find the answer. As we were sitting, happily typing away, there was a rumbling. We stopped momentarily, and looked around. A large, indistructable new forum had landed on our left. It was known as New Mombasa. And following it... came the new users. They overwhelmed our defenses. We had not a chance. So we hid, hid in this place called the Flood. They took over our grounds. Our sacred gardens were defiled by the infidels. So we hid. And yet, we prospered. But then, they found us. Found our last stronghold. And they attacked. We held them back. We have been. But they have found a -blam!- in our armour, and came through. So here we stand. All that remains of a great civilization. The last. The best. Over the years, we had lost many to them. They knew our secrets, our techniques. The battle was hopeless, they told us. Join now, and face a quick death. Or resist, and suffer eternally. Still more of our soldiers betrayed us. But will we, the finest, be bought? No. Here, in this holiest of forums, we have hidden. We now stand at the front of their army. They outnumber us, two hundred to each one of us. Their commanders stand at the back, waiting. Will we give in, and face instant death, or stand, and fight? I choose to fight. The battle will be hard. It will be fierce. But shall we lay down our weapons and falter? NO! We shall die warrior's deaths! We will lose many, and have even more injured. BUT WE WILL WIN. We alone shall be standing, with the infidels groveling at our feet. Now, who shall stand beside me?!