Location: montreal, quebec, Canada

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

They were the last

And they were the best

The Daemon's might had wracked many a realm before.

It's black laughter enough to curdle the blood of an unborn child

It's face was misery, it's body a sea of stolen souls.

It had come to Ancaria...and the heroes of this world had come to defend it.

MIghty Rooster, the most powerful Gladiator in the land and with a warcry that shattered the earth leapt for the daemon's throat while raising his sword high.

The first strike against the invader was one that rent the daemon in half, it's dark ichor spraying Rooster and causing him to cry out in pain as the outlander's blood burned holes and blinded the champion's eyes.

He fell forward into the cavernous maw that his sword had rent within the daemon's body...a small stumble actually.

And at that moment the monster choose to heal itself.

It's two halves were now rejoined

And rooster was nowhere to be seen.


The Dark Elf Tharkane whirled into the midst of the fray, his duel blades spinning madly and sending rays of light into the daemon's eyes whilst blinding him to the direction of where the dark elf hero's seemlingly endless rain of piercing stabs and slashings were coming from.

Tharkane, long time ally of Rooster, was consumed by such grief and frenzy that surely this would be enough to end the battle.

Pevil, the horsed mistress of the woods chose at this time to unleash a torrent of magical arrows.

And spiders.

The spiders quickly began to consume the flesh of the invader.

The blinded daemon now spun about madly trying to rip off all the arachnids that were feasting on it's skin, while trying to evade the spinning whirlwind that Tharkane had become.

The spiders though were a mistake.

For while the Elves had wrought a relationship of enthrallment with their eight legged servitors...that relationship was one that had grown tired.

Summoned creatures grow tired quickly.

And so the Daemon began to sing.

In a language born of pain and suffering it sang to the many thousands of arachnids that crawled over it's body.

It sang of warm meat, sylvan-blood and the terrified, helpless cries of a young Wood elf and it's horse.

The others now screamed and turned away...the sheer horror of the sight almost too much to bear.

For pevil's screams, so chilling in their pain were terrifying as well as terrible.

And it was at that moment when the daemon which could once again begin to see through a swollen, blood-encrusted eye...

...Cast it's Ring of Rift.

And it did not matter where Tharkane danced with his blades from.

Tharkane just fell through the ring, his screams echoing back from the realm of fire into which he had fallen.

The Rift closed.

Our heroes now surged forward with cries of vengeance and justice.

Ancaria...their Ancaria!

All for Ancaria.

The Daemon was like nothing they had ever encountered.

It had shattered planets and driven races to madness.

It had snuffed the might of stars

It had killed their friends.

This was why it was called Matesh Urdu in the old Language of the Angels...

Chaos Bringer.

The battle raged with Drel Trezor now in the vanguard firing mighty cannon blasts.

The Thunderous detonations echoing with the magical damage that Tetrol's Flame skin had added to his attacks.

The Cannonade again came raining down on the daemon, as it attempted to leap out of the way of the mighty dwarf's weapon.

Tetrol...his eyes aglow with a red concentration was elsewhere at that moment.

His eyes were on the asteroid belt that circled the realm, calling out to the deadly islands that circled in endless orbit.

The rocks answered.

The meteors were bent from their path and new found new direction in a stream that thundered against the Ancarian plains. They found as target the daemon's body upon which the rocks exploded with one blast after another that sent the daemon tumbling while tearing holes across the devil's smoking body. They left behind a pocked wasteland that this time birthed a myriad of worms with sharp teeth that leaped forth from their father's wounds and went for the eyes of every hero seen.

Tetro quickly broke a tablet that he had been holding in his hand. The release of the crafted spells within that tablet swept down upon the daemon with a wind of destructive energies.

The wizard's Gust of Wind shredded all the hell-born worms, while blowing a fiery wind across the deamon's flank causing it to howl and scream in pain.

Tetrol's meteor strikes were taking their toll upon the daemon...but the mage now chanced upon a solution.

A weakness to the Daemon's plan.

Tetrol switched to ice shards and ice ring.

The effect was immediete.

The Daemon's body now had a hardenning shell of ice crystals forming over it wherever tetrol's freezing blasts hit.

This combined with the huge concussive force of Drel's cannon was starting to make it's effect apparent.

The Daemon was coming apart.

One particularly large blast tore off a huge, frozen chunk of daemon's tail, where it flew past the heroes.

The daemon strangely enough now began to have the glowing appearance of a cherry.

Tetrol noticed the increase in heat, but continued on with the frostt, bone-chilling barrage of icy bolts and winds.

Drel, now emboldened by the success of the duo's last efforts shouted his family's warcry...for friends lost in battle and the souls of loved ones. He leapt upwards on to the daemon, managing to retain a grip upon it's fiery sulphur-clouded head. He aimed his cannon downwards, while beaming Tetrol a smile of triumph from his new perch atop the daemon's head.

Tetrol looked upwards at his friend waiting to share with his ally their soon to be victorious moment...

And Drel screamed in horror as tetrol's mouth gushed out a fountain of blood... a long snakey tail waggling out from between his teeth in a grotesquely and obscene parody of a wave.

The Daemon's tail which Drel had blown off earlier and which had seperated so easily had thawn out you see.

And the tail just wanted to use the shortest path possible to get back to it's father,.

Good mage Tetrol's head just happenned to be in the way.

And Drel, awash with the terrors of the sight he'd just seen...slipped on a patch of melting ice on top of the daemon's head.

Falling fifteen stories, and instantly breaking his neck.

Dear reader are some deaths unfair?

Tell me reader...are they? deaths because they're sufferred by a hero make them that much more dramatic?

Perhaps, a long, long time from now...Drel's death will be more excitingly re-told.

Or maybe...they will just leave it as it is.

For Drel's actions and deeds through life were legendary.

And isn't that what history is about?

I do not think any fanciful re-telling of this story will make his reputation any better.

He was a hero, and fought for our realm.

As the remaining heroes fought now.

Sdraken the daemon stepped forward.

Brought up by an angel.

A cast-off daemon that had found family..

She stepped forward because she had learned honor.

And because she had come to call her new realm home.

She raised her hand to cast the first spell against the being who now threatened her world, never once thinking that because the Daemon was her kind, that any other option existed.

She knew, as well...that it was also her time to die.

And that gesture...that hand raised towards the deamon, was Sdraken's last instance of a belief in choice rather than destiny.

The Daemon, called Matesh Urdu in the language of Angels...then smote his daughter.

And she died.

Lady P, the most powerful vamp in the realm, and high mystress of the arts had taken Sdraken as a sister, and therefore family.

Her wrath was great.

Her anger unbridled.

The vampire is one of the greatest of all the heroes of Ancaria.

It's strength is legendary.

And it's ability to win any battle while cloaked in darkness was an almost absolute guarantee of success.

Lady P gathered up her spells.

Careful not to call forth anything that a daemon's song could coerce to it's will.

For she remembered Pevil.

From the ends of the lady's fingerips flew bolts of corruscating power so intensely blue that they were blindingly difficult to even look at.

Their passage burnt the very air they flew through and scored the daemon's body with innumberable bleeding wounds.

And this bled blood

The Daemon then smiled, a toothsome grin.

Licked it's lips.

For it had known that the vampire would be a challenge.

It therefore gathered up almost all of it's fell essence...

And pointed at the sun...which was not up in the sky...but on the other side of Ancaria.

With his dark laugher he hissed at the vampire:

"let there be light!"

And there was light.

But it was a sun that was green, mutated and sick with disease.

A sun bloated and twisted by the daemon's power and wrenched out of it's path and arrested in it's journey through the heavens.

Made to bow down to the daemon's call and shine it's now tainted light upon the heroine.

Lady P screamed.

She couldn't stop screaming.

For that light, that green sickly light that bore down on her with dark intent, was anathema to her very bones.

Dear reader does a hero care when screaming out in pain?

Does she care to maintain some sort of control?

Knowing that her last words (oh please let them be heroic words, please!) will be remembered?

Did I mention the Daemon's sword?
Long it is.
Well honed on the bones of heroes.
Made sharp upon the necks of it's victims..

For observer and with tear-filled eyes of anguish and heartwrenching pain saw no words upon lady p's lips as I saw the vampire-hero's severed, burning head fly away from me and into the distance...her face spinning off into the air while mouthing nothing but pain, pain and more pain.

The Daemon looked about it now.

It had expected more from the immortal.

In fact...more from all the heroes of this realm.

It began calling in it's's wounds were many and it needed to heal.

That battle had not been without cost.

And then, upon the the plains which it had thought empty before, it saw a girl.

A girl?

Wait no, this girl...this girl had wings!

And in that moment the Daemon knew what it beheld.

An angel.

A being borne of the very firmament it was.

A being of vast power and unbelievable capacity.

The daemon bowed to the seraphim, and when the seraphim nodded back, the dark destroyer choose that moment to send forth a stream of fireballs hoping to take the battle angel off guard.

The daemon was to be dissapointed.

For the angel's eye was as quick as it's own, and an effortless Combat Jump to behind a mountain allowed the seraphim to evade the daemon's fiery thrust. The pieces of rock now flying about because of the daemon's strike however, were another thing.

The seraphim quickly utterred the words for Light Shield, and a light blue glow phosphored about her.

Protecting her from the hailstrom of dangerous rocks and any other thing the daemon may choose to fling at her.

From the deepest recesses of her mind she brought forth something that her dear friend Pevil had taught her.

Pevil had a knack for finding new ways of doing things and this shining example of the wood-lady's craft in action brought a smile to the angel's lips.

The angel started to sing what Pevil had taught her.

The seraphim's voice was the choir of angels. Her voice so sweet and glorious as it sang of places lit by hope and the promise of tommorow.

This spell called Conversion should have made the daemon forgot who he was, as well as the battle being fought.

Instead...the DAemon had other plans.

He vomitted.

And birthed forth noxious fumes from his mouth along with gobs of billous matter. They jetted forth upon the angel's face gagging and almost choking her.

The choir was silenced.

The daemon ripped off some of it's many fingers.

Cast them upon the ground.

And waited for the summonings to grow.

The birthed beasts were hard to look at and indeed focus upon. The depth of their evil blurred their very appearance, making them look wrong in our world.

Full of tooth and claw, and the promise of pain, they descended upon the little seraphim, smelling her blood and craving all of it.

The Battle angel called into place a shield of twinkling, rotating lights, whose passage through the air burned to a crisp every summoning that the daemon brought forth. Over and over it sent it's minions at her, where they smoked against her divine power.

Her fury became a terrible sight. She brought forth the powerf of her Attack, a fury of blows landing against the daemon and causing it to duck when it could.

And when the seraphim could gather enough power, it would use a devasting Hard hit, so that when it smashed against the Daemon the power of that blow would lay waste to the landscape behind the invader's back when it flew back against something with devastating force.

Back and forth the battle ensued.

"Enough!" cried the seraphim.

She looked up to the sun, the one that the daemon had wrenched out of it's orbit, and transformed into a mottled thing of evil.

The seraphim prayed to it for it's forgiveness and aid.

The Sun, still filled with the mighty essence of the Daemon bent it's will to the angel's needs.

A roaring, white beam of light, beautifully bright and a joy to behold smashed down upon the daemon with the force of star.

A mighty star.

For this was the sun of Ancaria, being held by the love of an angel, and focusing all of what was left of it's fiery strength upon the daemon...this dark invader.

The Daemon screamed and screamed...

for it had never before felt anything like this.

The light was washing through the dark recesses of it's soul, bathing everything it touched with the powerful clarity of it's path. The Daemon was the prince of lies and detested truth.

But this was the Celestial Light..and one of the seraphim's greatest weapons. And against it, the Daemon could do almost nothing.

Indeed, the devil cried out for fear...fear of it's own imminent death...unless...

The Daemon called upon it's last card.

It's ace.

And across the Daemon's chest a fissure appeared. Throbbing with a sickly red glow, it grew and grew.

Finally what looked like a womb split open.

And Rooster...poor Rooster...stepped forth.

The mightiest champion in ancaria had not died, but instead been enslaved. And now, the warrior was tasked to help the daemon on it's path of destruction.

To kill the seraphim.

The battle was one which scarred the heavens themselves.

Where the angel and barbarian's blows caught each other the sonic boom would render the trees from their roots, turning the air itself into a deadly hurricane.

Great Canyons were formed from where the heroes threw each other. And oceans were emptied while deserts flooded.

The stars themselves were flung as weapons. Such was the might of these heroes, and such was the intensity of the combattants.

And after what seemed like an eternity of battling, after uncounted blows and magical spells...

The seraphim was dying.

The daemon laughed as he saw this...urging his new pet to quickly end it...for they had other worlds to rob of futures.

The angel was sure that all of her ribs were broken. She was lying on her back, facing the barbarian who was standing over her with his sword held high.

Every breath of hers was laboured, and she knew that there was little time.

But perhaps in weakness...she could find a strength?

So from tattered lips and pierced lungs she sang her last song. She sang to Rooster of a world of light, one filled with promise and laughter. She sang of color, love and the beauty of faith.

And the vision that the seraphim sang to the warrior allowed him to briefly wipe the cloud of deception from his eyes...and see the truth...

"My lady, my angel...I have no control of my actions...and once your song has faded from my heart...then the daemon's dark will will once again control my destiny!"

" But it is not my own future I care for Lady Angel...but for the future of this realm..and Ancaria!"

The Seraphim, with her last breath asked the Warrior:

"Do you have faith? Will you place trust in my actions? "

" Warrior, will you give to me your last act of will?"

And Rooster did.

The Daemon knew now that at this point...something was afoot.

The Daemon doubled the force of will he had bent upon the will of Rooster.

The Geas placed upon the hero must not fail.

But it did fail.

And Rooster gave his last act of will to the angel. He trusted her. And in that trust was love.

Rooster fell upon his sword and then fell dead upon the dying angel.

And the angel, with her last breath, recited her last spell.. One that she prayed would be enough...

For Ancaria.

For the future.

Friday, July 22, 2005

What is Intelligence...and why do we look for it?

Hey Indy!I believe intelligence is a relationship.And for us, lol, or for me to deem something to be intelligent, I'd have to glean some sort of satisfaction from satisfaction related to intelligence?Well, I kinda think so.I mean...if judging intelligence arises out of a concept's or person's utility to a society's needs...Then wouldn't satisfaction seem to be a crucial part of this equation?I think the equation is complex and not absolute.It's exploratory, active and dynamic.Notice that i'm heavilly emphasizing the relationship between the person seeking intelligence and what they deem to be intelligence.I think we'll begin to find intelligence in the relationships, anyone care to throw up an equation?And on an even more deeper level...why do we need or look for intelligence?How does it satisfy our needs as searchers at that particular moment?I think that as our needs change so does what we define to be intelligent change as well.This makes the very definition of intelligence hard to quantify in a scientific manner, but easy to spot in terms of rewarding behavioural relationships between a concept and a person.I don't necessarily look to make intelligent friends...but I do look to find friends that convince me they act in an intelligent manner in situations that interest me.gogo

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

On Ascaron...and their future.

On Ascaron and their future.

Hey guysHmmm., well since i've got almost no game-stopping bugs and i'm able to play fer 8 hours or more wth no ctd's (hahah anymore...yay re-install!) i'm thinkin that it's just a minority of players that have problems with playing the game and that ascaron has already ascertained this.

It looks like they've used their beancounters...and probably as long as they figger that they're getting a good majority of people getting enough fun from the game...they're just gonna keep all efforts directed at producing a new game, light of past criticism of the company...

MUST come out relatively polished and bug-free for them to survive.

Good luck AScaron.

(lol, I very much meant that with the best of intentions )

I mean...let's say for example if they ran test cases of one hundred different computers running 100 copies of sacred...what would be the percentage of gamer's responses to the game that would indicate to Ascaron that the creation of the game creates enough of a percentage of happy responses from gamers that such a venture would be profitable?

I mean...why go on with producing sacred 2 if underworld wasn't a profitable venture?What's interesting perhaps is knowledge of what exactly that percentage is to a game company that then informs them that the direction they've profitable!

Is it 1%?

Is it 5%?

Is it 10%?Or is the margin of profitability so high...that in this case...a company could actually work with, oh let's say...20% !

Which brings into account another level of merchant accountability.

Well, we pretty much know that all companies bean count.

Car companies, insurance firms, and pharmaceutical firms all do it.

Bean counting means...getting away with it.

It addresses the question of...

Has what I've produced have the capacity to generate more smiley's than unhappy faces so that the product becomes...profitable? (lol profitable bein a tricky word there , huh )

Car companies are notoriously horrible with this, and the big case in the states regarding pharmaceuticals and their production of betablockers resulting in heart irregularities would be another example.

Is there a way that these companies could produce useful statistics of what the percentage of fails of their product is before production?

But numbers can always be skewed, slanted...and depending on what you need or who you are...made to work to your advantage.

This is the challenge with using new products.New cars, new drugs,, and especially new games!
They're hot, cutting-edge...and have very little product testing as compared to other products and activities that have been around fer ages...
eg; hand-crafted products like hammers and nails, organic foods, and sports.

The products of a technological age come with huge risk, and that's the nature of this beast.Consumerism lends itself to new products being produced so quickly with consequences that are so far reaching and wider in scope that a manufacture would have ever imagined.I guess it's always going to come down to personal enjoyment of a product that means something to us.

And in the case of video games...the only answer I can see to this, is not to buy such a product before at least a few months of reading that game's forum and reading reviews.

For that alone, I have a tremendous amount of respect for any and all of our community who post their bugs, problems, and vent.It gives a more informed picture, and is certainly more useful to anyone who plans to purchase any future Ascaron products.

Venting done in respectable fashion serves our community not because it points to an absolute...but because it provides us with great information on how some individuals have had problems with the game and great insight into whether or not future purchases from such company are worth their merit.

For these reasons the fact that Ascaron has maintained a venting board is something that could be taken into consideration regarding their consideration of us as past and perhaps future consumers.

And kudos to the dutiful and honest players who post in them.

Best of Wishes with the game everyone.


MInority rights...the petri dish of democracy

here, try this...

Do you believe you can hold an opinion as a verb rather than a noun?

A concept that is dynamic rather than static?

Can you see minority rights as being the petri dishes of powerful, forward-thinking democracies?

Can you?

lol, you even believe that what any minority has to say today CAN become valid in the future?

This really shouldn't be about what the minority looks like today...cuz will be different...and about different people...and about different things.

The strength of a democracy has and will always be judged by how it treats it's minorities.

Keep that in mind brave thinkers, for tommorrow...the fight may not be about our color, sex, sexual preference or hair may be, instead, about your dictated to by a company scientist as seen on a petri dish.

Now...How's that for fairness?



Wednesday, June 16, 2004

Ten of my Favorite Foods!

K,'s not my fault if a lot of these are tacky, gross, or pas Comme Il's just what seems ta be fuelin me these days...onwards cullinary adventurers!

1-Just-Dropped Mcd's Chicken crunchy, so moist, soooo...delectable...*sigh*...and those sauces!
Sweet jesus...honey mustard, barbeque, honey, and...*gasp* sweet and sour! WAit...I Told you to look in that kitchen drawer...nooooooooooooo!!!
2-Thai Green Curry Shrimp with lots of Green curry...the ultimate taste-bud tittilator!
3-McD's McDlt...hahahha, it's the sunday special and only costs two bux!...I stock up on loads a these fer the whole day.
4-My mom's spaghetti sauce...yeah yeah , yer mom makes better...who's my mom fer crissakes!!
5-The Won-Ton soup down at the local chinese eatery...Wok Cafe...succulent pork morsels lovingly wrapped in paper-thin, translucent dumplings...a few spoonfuls of hotsauce, and i'm good ta go...Hello Hoisin! *grin*
6-Two small pizzas delivered from the local pizzaria, man these guys rock! Toppings: first one...Onions, Fresh Tomatoes...and...get ready...Anchovies! Second one...Onions, Fresh Tomatoes, and Bacon...mmmm, salt.
Go Show! (Show Pizza that is)
7-Pad Thai ordered from the Noodle Depot down the street...yummedy yum, yum yum yum! Noodles, fried egg, basil, awesomely hot...with two big fried shrimp in it!
8-The Jamaican chicken patty at the...get this...depanneur in the local subway station!
hahahhahahah...used ta pick one up on on my way ta work at the local jamaican restaurant walking to the metro on the way ta ninety cents a pop fer delicious spicy chicken in a yummy patty...who can resist!
9-Lays Bar-B-Q chips...I simply dare anyone to come up with a better bag...anyone!
10-Ketchup...God's gift to humanity...may your bottle last forever...amen

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Top Ten Movies

1-Super Man just bein a kid, hehe, with a towel wrapped around my neck
2-Star Trek Two The Wrath of Khan...twas all about khan...and the Genesis effect!
3-The Accidental first grown up movie
4-Alien...pure horror...pure genius
5-Alien there any other movie that's done it twice in a row?
6-Blade Runner...still as sharp as ever...check out darryl hannah!
7-Fargo...the unsung hero...and in this case...pregnant, and a great shot!
8-Kill Bill...what other movie has music so dead on
9-Breakfast Club...your only sixteen once
10-Die was great!