Time for a new Beta Key Contest!

S'hdr'th the Maple Tree was content to put down roots and enjoy the rich compost of the Black Forest and her extraneous apostrophes. Content, that is, until all these adventurers showed up with their acid sprays and fireballs and vowels. Now her only thought is her people's unending battle cry: Y'rrr'r''r'g'!

 

Type: Goblin Grunt

Name: Rogorg

Rogorg learned early to always follow Bluk's orders. At first he thought no one would notice if a few of the kegs he was guarding went missing, but Rogorg quickly found out Bluk did not like to share his ale with grunts! Now Rogorg would gladly give up his life to protect his bosses shipments. Better he lose it fighting noble heroes than to his master's meaty goblin fist!

 

Once I was a great adventurer.. Women swooned at my passing.... now I'm a smelly skeleton in rags with a rusty sword. I still remember the day of my fall..... I was slaying the same bags of bones that I would later become, when I clumsily stepped into a spike pit. I woke up in the care of the very Necromancer I was sent to slay... now I'm cold.... always cold. I don't want to kill people.... I just have to, because the necromancer says so... Oh how I wish for sweet release.

 

Animated Tree's

Palmmane

The two-legs cries ring fierce as there bones grind together while my roots dig in,pleas for help,apologies that lay hollow,much like my breathern split open by murderous glee,Hero's?,if such a phrase they deem worthy,the same cries they now utter,my sapling's,the great oak's the willow's roared the same in there torturous demise,for what harm did we inflect on the two legs,we slumber , grow old,we inflict no harm,yet they come with bright wood,and biting wound tools,hacking away using us for "warmth,for comfort" tis' only fair that there cries go unheard in the forest of the forgotten,for I've long forgotten friendship.

 

Monster: Maple Tree
Name: Stumpy
Less aggressive but just as lethal as their oaken cousins, the maples have no patience for the many species that mutilate and kill their kind to make tools, weapons, houses, and furniture to rest their behinds. Don't under estimate them or they might just stick it to you!

 

Draco "the goblin slayer"
Draco is half human half dragon (mother was dragon father was human don't ask to complicated). Growing up in the kingdom of Great Fire he was skilled warrior He possessed an uncanny ability to breath fire, he also possessed speed that would rival any dragon in the kingdom. One day he and his friends went on a little hunt in the woods, when they got home they found every one dead slain by the goblins, and orcs this enraged Draco unlocking a special talent "dragon armor" (basically he turned into a dragon/human hybrid ). Now he sets off on the adventure of his life to find the goblins responsible for the death of his kin

 

Dear Adventurer,

Please unstrap me from these large metal plates - they chafe and pinch ever so badly. I promise I don't bite nearly as often when these Kobolds aren't around goading me. The way they look at me, I know they're thinking of bacon.

Sincerely,
Sassy - the Armored Pig

 

My name is G'raz, ancestor of G'rok the meek. I am not yet mature, so as in common goblin practise my true name has yet to be revealed. But I am different from my kind, for I have had visions! Oh yes, those stinking, pesty human beings will cross my path sooner than later. It will be a matter of time before I’ll be legendary amongst Goblins, for I will be G’raz the Human Slayer!

 

Chip the Animated Tree

"Hey Ladies, you've never seen wood like this!" *flexes*

 

Goblin Cutter
Snik't

See the purity of this steel, the countless hours spent in its forging?
See the gleam of this blade, honed to a razors edge and sparkling in the sunlight?
See the shark-skin grip, how it keeps the soldier's hand steady?
Snik't saw all these things, then a *thunk*...and Snik't saw no more.

 

Type: Tin Golem
Name: Aloysius the Stained
True I'm technically not a real person but I shouldn't be treated as if I don't exist! I have hopes and dreams too! I dream of stainless steel armour and meeting a girl who appreciates the strong slow silent types! So before the next time you adventurers swing your swords at a golem, take the time out to say hello. We're just doing our necromancer-mandated-jobs like everyone else!

 

Just A Kobold
the
Kobold Warrior.

"After months of fighting adventurers who joined the battle shouting 'We can take him, he's just a kobold!', YikYik changed his name. After all, thirty five dead adventurers can't be wrong!"

 

Diary of S.Toothbrush the Skeleton
Dear diary today was another bad day…woke up in the early hours of the morning to the screams of my fellow compatriots, a warrior and mage decided to rock up and tear us apart looking for something called the “ivory tome”… needless to say they got what they wanted and everyone’s dead…wish I listened to my mother and became a proctologist, apparently I have the fingers for it.

 

Theruk Twicecloven was born twenty-one years ago deep within the forests of Daurconor. His people were a secluded goblin tribe, living an existence on mostly hunting and gathering. That deep into the forest, banditry and raiding were foreign concepts to the goblins. Legends and tales taught that outsiders, especially the elves, were not to be trusted, and indeed were to be slain for the glory of the tribe. Concepts such as travel to the other moons, or a single monarch were foreign to them. No tax collector ever penetrated that deeply into the forest, and no imperial soldier had ever set foot in any copse or glen. The goblins were master of wood and wild, adept hunters and had ties to the natural world. It was said that over time, they had slowly gained the ability to draw upon “nature's pulse” as they called it, using it to strengthen themselves and others, before a great hunt or otherwise.

All that changed shortly after Theruk was born. A band of hardy eleven settlers had begun to build a fort within the forest, much closer than any other race had come to encountering the village. The elves believed the place to be mostly pacified, save for only a few beasts and other bothersome nuances of the wild. They erected a large palisade in a clearing, and began to clear the land for farmland. Their blue and gold banners fluttered on the breeze, and elves in oiled leathers with immaculate bows patrolled the ramparts. Farmers toiled in the shadow of the massive log walls, while hunters began to range out, hunting local game.

The goblins let this go on only for a short amount of time before retaliating. Lashing out violently, they began to ambush and butcher the hunters and farmers. Corpses, skinned and defiled, would be left for the elves to find. The farmers retreated into the palisade, and guards' armor began to look worn and used, as they began to take double and triple shifts. The goblins delighted in the mayhem, keenly aware that they were far more prepared for this kind of warfare than the elves were. The only defense the elves had were the massive walls of their fort, kept wet and well-tended, to prevent any sort of attack from the goblinoid raiders.

When Theruk was nine, the goblins staged their largest attack. The managed to take the wall and invade the town within.

No elf was left alive.

Theruk questioned his parents and those who would listen, wondering what those elves did to deserve the fate that befell them. Frequently he was silenced or scolded for being too young and asking too many questions. His parents chided him in public, and flayed him in private, leaving him to go to bed, sobbing and bloody. Still, he continued to ponder why they elves were considered evil, why the goblins had to do what they had done, and even more importantly, what would happen because of the slaughter? Goblins usually are not considered exceptionally wise. Cunning, devious, and manipulative, yes, but wise, never. The implications of slaughtering an entire settling party of elves never once crossed the goblin's minds, or if it did, it was dismissed with bravado and confidence.

However, the elves did not have to look far to find the revenge they sought. The goblins came to them. Soon after the small fort was burned, the goblins became restless. With no elven enemy, and only the drudgery of hunting ahead of them, they thirsted for more combat. For more bloodshed. Goblin hunters began to range far and wide, searching for more elves or any other race, to combat. Goblins quickly began to make preparations for war. Males began to take more food for themselves. Females became little more than breeding stock, as the need arose for more soldiers and hunters. Raiders soon began to bring back food from country farms and small towns, using it to feed the people rather than hunting. The goblins began to train less in ways of hunting and trapping, and more in killing and destroying.

Those young goblins, including Theruk, received very little in training in stealth and subterfuge, wilderness lore and survival skills. They were trained for war, and little else. Theruk took his first life at age 13, a young elven male, defending his father's farm from the goblin raiders. The elf wielded his shortsword clumsily and without finesse. Theruk parried the elf's first clumsy slash, and then cleanly ran him through. The look of fear, hurt, and sadness in the elf's eyes at that moment smote Theruk's heart. The propaganda and hatred that the goblin warchiefs had filled him with collapsed at that moment. He stared into the heart of the young elf, and saw that they were not so different. Had it been the other way around, had the elf run Theruk through, Theruk knew then what he would feel.

It was not right.

Theruk voiced his opinions once more. The warchiefs laughed in his face. The elders simply shook their heads. Theruk was publicly flogged, and the whips fell until his back was torn, and his blood stained the earth. Theruk collapsed in the square, unable to even support his weight. Hours later, he drug himself over to a nearby well, where he managed to drink a little water before passing out. It was a miracle he survived the night. The next day, Theruk limped out of the village, scorned and reviled- an outcast.
A fortnight passed as Theruk nursed himself to health. He lived by scavenging and gathering, a pitiful existence for a goblin. However, Theruk no longer considered himself a goblin. The people he knew as goblins were little more than bloodthirsty killers, unrepentant, and unmerciful. To be exiled from those people was not a curse. Theruk began to learn how to blend in the wild, taught himself the ways of the forest, as he watched the war go on between his people and the helpless elves.

As all things do, the slaughter began to come to an end. Raiding parties were quick to learn that towns were soon being garrisoned by elven soldiers, real soldiers, trained in the capital, whose only job was to fight. The goblins, young and out for easy blood, quailed and retreated under such disciplined strikes. Country houses were burned, no longer offering the goblins the easy pickings they once had. Food became scarce, and game had migrated. The older goblins still knew how to hunt, and supported the village, but the loss of such warriors came dearly. The raiders began to retreat, as the elves pressed the advantage. The goblins, unused to any such warfare, fell back, leading the elven warriors directly to their village.

Theruk saw the attack on his village. He raised no hand to help his dying friends, relatives, and clansmen. That night, he left the forest, the image of the flames forever engraved in his mind. The journey took several days, for the forest was large, and Theruk was not yet skilled in the talents needed to traverse the rough terrain. He did not take the route that the raiders used to find elves. He went the opposite way, at first deeper into the forest. He fled from many strange and dark beasts, and ate what he could. He spent many a cold miserable night huddled in between the roots of a mighty tree, or under the shelter of a shrub, praying that no beast would find him out. However, the forest began to recede. Thick dark canopies opened to blue skies, glens and meadows began to dot the wooded landscape. Theruk was free of the horrible world in which he had found himself imprisoned. For the first time, he was not accountable to the elves, the goblins, or even the forest itself. Theruk wandered the world, bolstering his knowledge of combat, and furthering his knowledge of woodcraft.

When he was sixteen, Theruk settled down near a small village. He beheld a curious sight. It was the first time he had seen another people his size. Unlike the elves, much taller than he, he saw halflings, who were actually shorter of stature. They were nestled away in a small hamlet, near some woods. The woods weren't particularly large or overwhelming, but they kept Theruk hidden well enough. Curious, he settled down in the area. Small game kept him fed, and the few small creeks winding through the area were more than enough to keep him sated. He most intently watched the villagers themselves. He wanted to learn about these people, a people who had never known hatred and slaughter, who went about their lives peacefully and without fear.

He began to learn about them, through conversations he overheard and just general observations. He learned each family's story, found out who lived in the family. He became fascinated, mentally documenting each and every one of them. He could recite family trees, current affairs, and locations of each small family. It was a point of pride for him to watch the halflings at work, play, and rest. He felt a certain paternity for them, as if he was their protector. And although he was skilled, the halflings were not ignorant. They soon became aware of the watcher in the forest. They let Theruk be though, as he often left them gifts of meat, fruits, or items of hide and woven grasses. They called him the Watcher, and often, he would see people wave, not at him, but to him, a general acknowledgment that they knew he was out there.

And Theruk was happy.

 

I Truly Believe You Deserve A Beta Key

I'd Give You One If I Had One T~T (Well....Maybe Not ;D)

I Myself Have Been Waiting For Quite Some Time,Ah I'd kill For A Key

I Have Never Been More Excited For A Game Not Even Skyrim Or Some Other High Profit Game,

I Still Can't Believe This Game Is FREE It's Like I've Died And Gone To Heaven

A Dungeon Crawling Reminiscent To Dungeons And Dragon's,With Collectable Card's?

Just Incredible

 

The Birth of Cusn the Bronze Golem
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What am I? What can I do? Oh look, legs. Hey, I can Walk!
***crash***
Ah! I knocked over that chair, how Clumsy of me. Wait, I have arms too. I'll just pick it up.
***Bludgeon***
Oh no, now it's worse! And it's my first day. Oooh, three pink things like me. My luck is changing; they'll be my friends!
'Huuuuugs!'
...
"Hero": 'It's attacking! Beware its Flailing Bronze Fists.'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

70 words exactly *coughexcludingthetitlecough*. Huge thanks to Pengw1n and Zalminen's threads for information about the monsters.

 

The intruders footsteps grew louder, as Milo spoke a reassuring word to his fellow apprentice geomancer, Leon. "We've seen master do this a hundred times. Don't worry." Suddenly, a dwarven party spilled into the laboratory. The room erupted into a clash of magic and steel. Milo watched as Leon was run through. After defeating the intruders Milo grinned waiting for Leon to re-spawn. Milo tease,"That means your buying tonight!"

 

you can post the same story you put on facebook on here,but you cant make a new story and keep posting them

one on facebook

one of forum


but the exact same one

 

Armando the Kraktopus

Armando loves hugs. First he tried to hug some minnows, but they just scuttled through his arms. A blowfish swam by, but that hug ended with Armando getting poked quite fiercely by the little guy.

Then a boat came along and Armando lit up, “finally, a friend my size!” But as soon as he wrapped his many arms around the ship, it split in two while sailors screamed.

All Armando wants is a hug.

 

Bob the holey dragon

He is not as legendary as you might think (because he is full of holes) but his main ambition in life is to find a good dentist who will give him a decent amount of fillings.
He often feels left out because his friends just seem to see right trough him and never pick him to play in goal