Monday, February 3, 2014

Tales from The Mana Bar - Grok's Bad Day

     So.  Here's today's real update.  Again, sorry about yesterday.  I have no excuse.

     I've been thinking more about my Mana Bar idea, and I've got another story to tell, so enjoy!

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     FWOOMPSH!

     Grok the Orc appeared on the battlefield with Betsy already in his hands.  He took a look around and noticed that he was alone.  The player that summoned him was behing him, on a mountaintop, and he was throwing lightning into the middle of the forest in front of Grok.  The order to attack came and Grok charged into the trees.  He was happy.  It had been a long time since Betsy had tasted planeswalker flesh.

     He was through the outer ring of trees, following the sound of crashing thunderbolts, when a dense fog began rolling through the forest.  Grok tried to push on, but he found himself completely lost in the swirling miasma.  So Grok did what any good battle Orc would do when stopped by fog.  He waited.  After a while the fog suddenly dissipated just as quickly as it had rolled in.  Grok once again began the trek towards the enemy player.

     It was then that he discovered that he wasn't alone.  There were some goblins manning a balloon like contraption that was alternating between floating off the ground and being dragged by the little creatures.  Grok shouted a greeting and the goblins bared their teeth in response.  This would have been seen as threatening by most people, but Grok knew goblins.  In goblin society, snarling at someone denoted great respect because you were worthy of a display of aggression before commencing battle.  If a goblin thought nothing of you, he would just start attacking with no warning.  The little devils baring their fangs at Grok told Grok that they were on his side.

     Grok trekked further into the forest.  He was getting within earshot of the clearing where the enemy stood when, suddenly, giant flowers bloomed all around him, showering him with pollen.  He was asleep and hitting the ground before he could even register what color the nearest blossom had been. He didnt have time to notice, but he would have been gratified to hear that the goblins had also dropped where they were walking.

     Grok awoke with a start.  Grabbing Betsy and shaking his head to clear it.  This enemy wizard had some pretty annoying tactics up his sleeve.  Grok once again began trekking through the forest, the enemy clearing seemed to have moved while he slept.  He heard a lumbering, crashing sound behind him and noticed a giant Wyrm had joined the party.  Grok shuddered.  It wasn't that he didn't like wyrms, per se.  A Wyrm could be a formidable opponent (and made some damn fine eating) but the things were so slimy, grok couldn't stand slime, it was the one thing at freaked him out more than any other.

     About the time Grok was shuddering from the thought of the wyrmslime, another bank of soupy fog began to roll in.  "This is getting ridiculous!"  He thought as he sat down and waited for the fog to clear.  A short time later Grok was trudging through the woods again, coming up on the clearing that held the enemy wizard, when he felt more than heard the nearly audible BOOMPH! of a spell going off nearby.  Suddenly, Grok was surrounded by a flock of birds.  Great blue and white things that were flapping their impressive wings in his face.  He took a few swings with Betsy and managed to cleave one of the birds neatly in two, but he wasn't happy when he noticed that the clearing had shifted again while he had been distracted.

     This kind of thing seemed to go on all day.  Every time Grok would get close to the clearing fog would roll in, or an unnatural darkness would suddenly fall, or more of those damnable flowers would appear out of nowhere.  By sundown Grok was ready to scream.

     Finally, after hours of false starts and cheap tricks, Grok, the goblins, the Wyrm (and everyone else that had joined their merry band of lost boys along the way) burst into the clearing, shouting their frustrations to the heavens and brandishing their weaponry.  Grok himself led the charge across the twenty or so feet of open ground between him and the enemy player.

     The enemy suddenly reached into his pack and pulled out a largish coin, he fingered the coin for a moment before breaking it in half with his hands.  Immediately, the coin became a swirling vortex that was sucking in everything around it.  Grok staggered under the power of the coin and suddenly knew what was happening.  

     As he held onto a thick tree, waiting to be sucked into and crushed by the vortex of the Nevinyrral's Disk, he had time for a chain of thoughts.  The most clear of such was probably "This kind of shit.  It's this kind of shit right here that drives an Orc to drink!" That wasn't the lest thing to go through his mind, however as he was picked up and began his fall into the disk.  His body was literally crushed under the pressure of the miniature black hole, and the last thing that went through Grok's mind (before he reappeared outside the Mana Bar) was his teeth.

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     I hope you enjoyed that.  I'm half asleep as I write this, so I'm not sure if it even makes sense, but there it is.  

     For those of you who would understand:  I used to play a deck called Turbofog in the paper version of Magic: the Gathering.  It consisted of a bunch of fog effects and board wipes to stall for time until I could assemble the winning combo.  It was so frustrating to play against that the deck was banned from my local game store.  Oh well, ce la vie!

     Goodnight, everybody!


     

     

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