A Valiant Battle

Brothers in arms, fly my flag in your valiant pubbing escapades,
and in your epic battles against other clans! Show your belief regarding this
great famine that is upon us! When you are questioned of your motives by the
various randoms roaming the lands, win or loss, you must tell them the story of
how you and your brethren were starved by the gods: how they let you down and
refused to feed you; instead giving all of their nourishment to the "greater race."

Tell the story of a beautiful world known only as MNC. This world appeared to
many in a dream involving an arcade in the summer. The world was lush and full of
excitement and joy to all who entered. Of course some did not stay, but those of us
who decided to take residence in MNC were nothing but thankful to the gods regarding
their gift of this beautiful new world.

On top of the world they give us, they promise to make every job equal,
and every town fair to both races that inhabit it. The gods took some time to deliver
on this promise, but it was kept nonetheless. soon every job in this world was nearly
balanced and fair; or so it seemed. Some people took notice that the occupation of
assaulting became more rewarding than the others. Soon they called for a gift from
the gods.

Then there was the "gift" so called "spunky arena," that which turned out to be something
to trick us into giving them our trust and endless obedience whilst they devise a plan to
create a superior race, better than us in every way. This spunky cola arena was
something the gods sloppily threw together, along with a handful of fixes regarding
their misdoings in this world we live in.

Soon the population took notice of the gods' plan to make a superior race,
who the people called the Peaseers, and were fine with it, so long as the gods
did not forget about those who came before the peaseers, and who had given
them the support they needed in the first place.

This promise was broken however, and many decades were spend, wondering
whether or not our gods would ever get around to supporting the first race. they
gave excuses and toyed with our emotions regarding the subject, while never
directly answering our pleas for help. We are the Forgotten Ones.

Now my brothers, it has gotten to the point that the superior race themselves
take pity on us and try to help us in our war against the gods, so that our friends,
brothers, and sisters do not starve at their hands. we must stand against them
and wave our flag of rebellion to the powers that be so that we may be this
famine and be at peace with those who created us, and get the acknowledgement
that we deserve.

Someday, your childrens children will look back from their halo 6, dub edition and
say; "that was my grandfather, the one who stood against the gods the great
MNC update famine," and you will live forever in the minds of those to come.

signed by yours truly,
[4GOT]TOM12121112

/signed!!

/banned!!

Hudson, you must pull yourself away from the darkside and remember where you came from!

This is the worst MNC fanfiction I've ever read. Where's the sex?

When I click on your signature it just brings me back to the top of the page. That's cool, I guess...

Support this thread by linking it in your signature!

Brilliant

You guys like my story?! Cool! I like the part where the gods totally **** over the 4GOTen ones!

Tom I love you

Btotstns.

This is, however the best non-fiction I've ever read. I can see it being made into a documentary.

Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

A hint biased in my eyes.

^^^
Peaseer

Anyone else get hints or Anthem by Ayn Rand or Rush's 2112 overture in this?
Also that was pretty damn epic right there

*sigh*

What the people call gods have other gods to answer to and alas their decision making is out of their hands and a sense of urgency does not exist for these god-gods.

:lol:

WHY DO YOU WINK ALL THE TIME