Patrick

Tinkerer
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Patrick last won the day on June 11 2014

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About Patrick

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    Ancient Tinkerer
  • Birthday 05/31/1985

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  1. Usernames and display names have been merged compared to the previous version. This means that your displayed name might have changed, but your login information hasn't. Please post here if you find any other issues.
  2. ...then you are on the new, freshly updated, forums. Welcome!
  3. The wind whispers woven words The stream sings soft songs The ocean offers oblivion The ship slowly sails...away Crypt, I really liked the alliteration going on, of course, being me, I had to break it in the last line. Because structure in poems is made to be played with. ;p Next line: The snow-capped mountains of hell
  4. Stones thrown through a glass heart - Poor, fragile thing - Will it break apart? Will the pain sting? Hammer blows of emotion to the mind - Flashes of light to the blind - Will it go mad? All emotions drained sad? Or will the glimmer of hope prevail? Will she be able to lift the veil? Her touch breaking - Walls shattering - Hope Love? Lost? Next line: Please stay...just another day
  5. Well, we'd need at least five or six players if we can get that, I'll mod it. Don't expect daily posts from me either, work has gotten crazy recently.
  6. Unfortunately, looks like we don't have enough.
  7. As it seems that Tanny is still busy with real life stuff, I've had an idea for a werewolf game, while we wait for her to get back. You would all be members of a "peaceful" pack of werewolves, living on the distant fringes of a human settlement, living happily while killing sheep and the occasional lone human who graces our territory with his presence. Unbeknownst to you all, a human has infiltrated the pack, and is trying to bring you all down from the inside. So, in werewolf terms: the werewolves would be villagers the human infiltrator would be the wolf seer/baner could be added if player numbers were high Would anyone be interested in such a game?
  8. ...ello...ello...echo...Echo...ECHO!
  9. In the dark of the moon There lies a spoon These rhymes are crap You should not clap This poem is just so bad Oh it is really sad Next line: The worst decision that turned out well
  10. raindrops fat sluggish raindrops fall to their deaths dissolving in puddles of clear water losing shape identity dissolving the skies weep in anguish each tear another raindrop drop dissolving
  11. *tacklehugs back*
  12. They can only see his smiles A pathetic facade Of everything he hides
  13. *pokes the thread with a stick*
  14. What these old bones know... Civilizations rise and fall ...and fall Mountains grow and erode ...and erode Rivers flow and dry up ...and dry up What these old bones know... Gnawed upon by time Next line: Foolishness to even think
  15. Tibbs was once someone different, a man with a past he no longer even mentions. All the people of Bree know is that as long as most of them have lived Tibbs has sat in the same corner of the Prancing Pony, nursing the same cracked wooden tankard which was only occasionally refilled. How he had lived for so long and where he got the money for all he drinks, only very few know, and they never come to visit... In reality Tibbs is one of the Duneda├Čn, a ranger of the North, a man broken by the death of his wife about a century ago. He's probably about 150-160, but for a Duneda├Čn, looks older, after decades of abuse through alcohol. He is by no means rich, but unbeknownst to him, his former companions still take care of him, leaving regular payments for his room at the inn.