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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Lost Men of Terra


Guest Minta Rose

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Guest Minta Rose

Archmage Bulletin Boards, Server Guilded Banquet Hall, July 2000

 

Orlan

 

Orlan, the Sexy Sexy Man, walked through the now silent Hall of Suaveness. There was no laughing, no talking, no wenching, no anything going on here. Silence was king. The rain that poured down outside was queen. Together they ruled over the Hall with an iron fist. Orlan reached the door to the actual Hall where he took off his cloak that was drenched from the rain. He tossed it over one of the Iron Golems that stood guard. He then produced a key from around his neck and inserted the key into the door.

The door opened with a mighty *WHOOOSHHH* granting the Man of Terra access to the inner folds of the Men of Terra's HQ. Orlan strutted into the Hall and took in all that was around him.

 

A round room held eleven chairs. Each chair was catered to the personalities and needs of the Man that used it. There were three chairs that were lines up first, all there had not been used in a long time. These were for the men who had left Terra yet are still Men should they ever choose to return. The first was a little dusty but could clearly been seen as Green. This was the chair for Zorak, the Green MANtis. The next two were dark and dusty, with cobwebs over them. For the Men Thane and Mordain. The chairs were very unused, yet they always had a full glass of ale on the arms. The next chair looked slightly used, and was still clean. The only thing odd about this one was the Stiletto blade stuck into the seat. This was HawkAngel's chair. There was a mug if dark ale on the chair's arm.

 

The next chair was Malenko, the Man Wit Da Plan. He had a pack of smokes sitting on it next to his mug of ale. The next was Orlan's own chair. A bottle of Sexyness®© sat near it, the bottle full since Orlan *never* needed it. Next to Orlan's chair was Corvus Corax's chair. The Mystery Man's chair had one of Corvus' spells on it, and that gave it a Mystic appearance. The next chair had five tomes piled on top of it. On top of the tomes was BelZpock's, the Wise Man, mug of ale. The next chair was not a chair, but rather a large keg of ale with a piece of wood attached to the back. This was Cid's, the Party Man, chair. The next chair was made out of wood and had ornate carvings of nekkid women in it. This chair belonged to Bale, the Ladies' Man.

 

The final chair was the grandest of them all. It could not have looked any more amazing had it been made out of gold. It was the chair of Greased, the Man. It stood in a light all by itself. It was the most amazing sight in the entire hall. However, it, like all the other chairs in the hall, was empty. Orlan sighed.

 

"Man this place brings back memories. I wonder if the gallery is still intact. This place hasn't been used in a while." Orlan said to himself. He walked over to Greased's chair and reached around it, finding the right switch. He flipped said switch and watched as a panel of wall slid open. Behind this wall was an enormous Stone Guardian that blocked the hall behind it. It looked directly at Orlan.

 

"Who…?" it asked.

 

"Orlan, Sexy Sexy Man." Orlan replied. The Stone Guardian was a device BelZpock created. The only ones who could pass were the Men of Terra, and each Man had his separate password. "Never shall a woman be ignored, never shall a woman be deprived, and never shall a woman be without me and my Sexyness®©." The Stone Guardian nodded and vanished, leaving the way open for Orlan.

 

This secret place was the gallery of the Men. A hall that was lined with some of the most amazing and secretive pictures and photos the Men ever were involved with. Man pictures lined this wall. The map to the spring of DEP. The picture of first woman Bale ever kissed, when he was four. The ultra-rare nude portrait that Greased had done of Mazzy when she wasn't looking. Next to that nude picture was one of the not-so rare but still *****in' pictures of Tzimfemme nekkid. Each Man's portrait lined the wall illustrating the Man's specialty. Again Orlan sighed, not like a sigh of windbag that loser, but a sigh of loss.

 

Orlan was one of the younger Men of Terra. He was not a Man during the DEP crusades, nor during the whole Blackmail scheme. Orlan was around, yet he was still mastering the art of the "KeepyourdamnlandsfromthosepeskyWhities." However lately Orlan was thinking he was the only Man left. The Banquet Halls had been silent without the multitude of the Man hanging around. The only thing ever heard was the occasional reminisce about some grapes or the sort. Since Greased had retired to his villa, the Men had been poorly represented.

 

Orlan tried, yet he could not do everything the Men could all do. He couldn't party like Cid, explain anything like BelZpock, he was bad at words with ladies (but kicked major butt at lust) unlike Bale was. He just wasn't all the Men. Orlan knew that….but….

 

"That's IT!" Orlan yelled. The Man of Terra spun around and headed out of the gallery and out of the Great Hall. He moved swiftly out though the outside doors into the pouring rain. "Larry!" Orlan cried out. An instant later Larry the Lich, Orlan's Number Two, appeared next to Orlan.

 

"Sir?" the Lich replied.

 

"Larry tell Jomo and Et that I'll be away from the Catfish Lands in the Tribe's Forest. Ask Wise~Man to watch after my lands, I'm going to find the other Men of Terra."

 

"Where? How? Why?" Larry asked.

 

"Why?" Orlan said. "Because they're the Men and they need to return and bring back life to this place. I don't know where exactly, I know I'll find one in the lands of Tarkia, maybe try Shaolin Territory. I know Feath would help out. Tzimfemme of course can help. I know my lil' Sex Kitten can help out. If Ozy's sober we can get something out of him. I know the Men are out there, and I will find them."

 

"Well then I'll let everyone know, but where are you going to go first?" Larry asked.

 

"Well, I'll go where ever the wind takes me. I need to figure out where the Men might be first, then I can go look for them…I wonder if Tzimfemme would know, you still in good with her Angel-in-command?"

 

Orlan and Larry the Lich disappeared in a swirl of shadows, Orlan off…

 

 

…To Find The Lost Men!

 

 

------------------

Orlan, Sexy Sexy Man

The Lounge!

Member of the Tribe S1

Lounge Lizard of Terra

GuildMaster of "Nekkid Female Mages No. 1 FanClub and Worshippers"

Bard Of Terra

Member of AoA on A1

Lover of Women

Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen.

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Guest Minta Rose

Ozymandias

 

Ozymandias lay sleeping soundly that morning. Birds chirped and flowers blossomed as sunshine filled his ever immaculate bedroom.

Ever immaculate not because of his servants, but because he rarely made it that far. In fact, he had no servants*, and in further fact, he hadn't even been able to find his castle after last night's carousing.

Blinking owlishly in the glaring sun, he finally sat up, yawned mightily, and stretched. "Hm. Well. Wonder where I am this time? YEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGG."

 

Ozymandias gets very interesting hangovers from very interesting drinks. Never, EVER make a mixed drink using Ol' Peculiar as an ingredient, kids. No good will ever come of it.

 

After his eyeballs had finished their quick reenactment of the Stanley Cup finals on his left leg and his mother came and shooed all the flying elephants and talking mice with knives away, Ozymandias blinked again as the pain in his head settled down to its familiar, more comfortable jackhammering. Fishing around in his...fluid**...stained robes, he produced his ever handy, trusty DPS*** tracker and studied it carefully. The little blip marked "My House" was nowhere to be seen. "Awww, crap." Suddenly, the roar of engines could be heard. Head snapping up faster than a rabbit's who has just realized he found that lovely clover patch directly in the middle of the wolves' den, he squints at the horizon. Beyond the edge of the poppy field he seems to be sitting in, and over the rise of the unconscious Ox with a beer bong lying next to him, Terra's most inebriated Phantasm Mage can just make out two thin trails of smoke. *sniff* *sniff*

"That smells like...Orlan! Ye gods, even his exhaust smells sexy! It's just not fair! OW!" He rubs gently at his temple and is greatly relieved when it does not give way. Orlan, Sexy, Sexy Man, last Man of Terra pulls up alongside Ozymandias on a vintage Harley. As his cohort parks behind him, Ozy realizes why he recognized the other smell. The unique stench of Larry the Lich! Oddly enough, they are alone and appear packed for travel that isn't a gig. Like it's something far, far more important. A long moment passes as Orlan focuses intently on the last few drags on his cigarette then flicks it away.

 

"Ozy, my main man, the Ringo to my rest of the Beatles! The Men of Terra are going to be coming back to S1 BH to liven it up!"

 

"Re-*oww*-ally? Wow."

 

"Yup, I'm going to see to it personally..."

 

 

*Anymore. He had at one point, but that lasted for all of a week, by which time they'd realized their master's drinking habits, daily regimen, and favorite pasttimes were all one and the same and had contented themselves with picking his pockets after a five-day bender and walking out.

 

**I have the right to an attorney. I'm not telling you anything.

 

***Disc Positioning System. The world IS flat, after all.

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Guest Minta Rose

BelZpock

 

BelZpock was sitting around reading up on what had happened in the last month or so in Terra, as he had been outside the realm for a while, when his soft humming to himself was interrupted by his aide, the dark elf woman given to him by Zaltais a long time ago.

"Yes?" the Wise Man of Terra asked.

"You have a visitor, wise one" she said.

"One of your loyal viceroys. The...erm...naked one."

BelZpock smiled and waved for her to let the naked one in.

He greets her with "Hello Tzimfemme - all too long since we've had a chat. Still looking lovely, I see..."

"Cut the chit-chat" she said.

"I just found out Orlan is calling for the Men of Terra to reassemble. Thought you might be interested" she said casually.

"Really now?", BelZpock said and thought back to all the fun he had had with TMoT since joining them. That would be fun to experience again...

 

"Well then. Let's not keep him waiting, shall we?"

 

Having said that, BelZpock marched off to the sacred shrine of DEP hidden deep in his mountain fortress, applied some and made sure Tzimfemme was duly impressed - which, of course, she was. He was a Men of Terra, only MoT can use the DEP for it's true purpose - to drive the women absolutely mindboggingly crazy about the wearer. And that it did.

 

Stealthily, so as not to gather too big a following on his path through the fortress to the exit. Which wasn't easy, since every time he passed a mirror (and there were lots of them) he had to stop and admire himself for a while - the thought "damn, I'm goodlookin'!" shot through his head more than once.

 

His path also took him through his extensive library, containing at least one copy of every book Terra had ever seen and some Terra wouldn't have normally seen if it hadn't been for his extradimensional travels. He passed the glass cases containing some of his most priced books from these travels:

 

"The ultimate heavy metal encyclopedia",

written on a parallel Terra by his own doppelganger, Starlight.

 

"The ultimate guide to sex with Marle",

written by Evil Sticky LOLLYPOP and NymphRider - the only surviving copy since Marle burned the others in a huge balefire. This one was in there too, which can be seen from a few burnt pages and corners.

 

And, of course, the book noone can be without: "The hitch-hikers guide to the galaxy" by Douglas Adams.

 

BelZpock sighs and realizes he spends too little time in his library...too much to do.

He makes a mental note to set some time aside for browsing his library again.

 

Finally arriving at his destination, having taken the maze-like route through the immense underground library and having gone about 5 miles longer than the 500 feet necessary. But one cannot be a Man of Terra without strutting around a little.

 

BelZpock, the Wise Man of Terra, steps into the room he had aimed for and vanishes...

 

...only to reappear outside the Hall of Suaveness.

 

"Aaah, good to be back" he says, waves at the gathering crowd of women screaming his name and enters.

 

He pauses to take in the atmosphere of the hall itself, and coughs as dust settles in his throat. "Damn it...we need to get the cleaners in here" he says to noone in particular.

 

He passes the chairs and carefully dusts off his as he finds it. He idly wonders who would be so stupid as to put a mug of ale on his chair and replaces it quickly with the normal platter of shots and a glass of red wine.

 

He then starts wondering where Orlan could have run off to, and quickly sees the obvious answer. He walks over to Greased's chair and flicks the switch to gain access to the stone guardian blocking the inner hall. Kind of silly really but a necessary evil after that journalist managed to sneak in uninvited, sadly enough.

 

"Who…?" it asked.

 

"BelZpock, Wise Man of Terra." BelZpock replied. The guardian was his own construction, but all, even he, had to give it the proper password to assure his identity:

"Calculus for the masses!®©, and my body to the really sexy babes - let none be deprived of my wisdom!"

The Stone Guardian nodded and vanished, leaving the way open for BelZpock.

 

"Now, let's get down to business!" BelZpock shouts into the hall.

 

No reply.

 

Still no reply.

 

Irritated, BelZpock mumbled something about Orlan and what he'd do to him when he showed up.

 

"Ah well", BelZpock said, "might as well get this place into shape while I'm here..." and, having said that, calls for the servants to scutter out from whatever holes they were hiding in and clean the place up while he settles in with some Bailey's to wait...

 

------------------

--------------------------------------------

BelZpock (S1)

--------

Founder and leader of Calculus for the masses! (S1)

Immortal of Terra (#2 second reset)

Wise Man of Terra

Honorary member of the Pacifists? guild

among other titles...

 

aka

 

Starlight (A1)

---------

Founder and leader of Metalium (A1)

 

aka

 

Thrawn (B2)

---------

Council member of the BORG

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Guest Minta Rose

P51mus

 

Suddenly, while sitting in his castle stroking his new cat Snowy (thank you Galandar) as most evil geniuses do, P51mus is suddenly hit with an odd realization

He turns to his friend Bob

My plans for domination of the Terras can wait, I have just received the relization of something important on one of the Terras.

Bob grunts

No, Bob, remember I'm turning evil for at least a month. Someone has to balance out all the good running around and Doctor Evil is hiding somewhere.

Hmmm, I see something about a stone guardian.

Bob grunts again

Sure Bob, you can have fun taking it apart if that is needed.

P51mus creates a portal leading to just outside the Hall of Suaveness

He then calmly walks through the portal while holding the cat, while his friend Bob the Stone Golem follows him through the portal

He notices the now-open gates of the hall, and calmly walks in with Bob not far behind

He notices signs of some minor activity recently, as well as some interesting chairs

Hello? Is anybody here?

 

------------------

-P51mus

The Schizophrenic Mage

Owner of The Message Board's longest Signature

Friend of Bob the stone golem

 

Server 1

P51mus

The Knights of The Mist

 

Ager Server 1

Slavik

The Brotherhood of Nod

 

Blitz Server II

P51mus

The Order of Storms

 

And isn't sanity really just a one trick pony anyway? I mean, all you get is one trick! Rational thinking. But when you're good and crazy, oooh!! The sky's the limit! -The Tick

 

Fate is like a caged gorilla. It will pelt you with dung if you mock it. -Warriv (Diablo 2)

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Guest Minta Rose

Bale

 

A beep echoes through the blackness.

Then another.

Irritatedly, Bale reaches over to the chair next to the bed, and turns off the locator beacon blaring from the comb in the back pocket of his pants.

 

darkness...

 

 

silence...

 

naked chicks...

 

Bale stretches. "Give me 2 more weeks Orlan! Sheeeeesh! Ask the Tarakians! They can tell you where I am, and when I'm coming back!"

 

 

A head lifts.

 

"What was that?" asks the sultry voice.

 

Bale replies, "Nothing, go back to sleep, and tell your sisters to go back to sleep too."

 

"ALL of them! I have to rest up. In two weeks I return to Terra..."

 

 

The head becomes hidden again.

 

Well, muses Bale, maybe 2 weeks and a day...

 

 

_______________________________________

 

Bale

Man of Terra

Minister of Ass-Kicking

Tarakian Phoenix (Risen Again)

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Guest Minta Rose

Iuz the Old

 

It was a rather uneventful night, no triber punks knocking at his door, no arrows and he kinda missed the funny colors of the sky when his country was under a massive spell attack.

Still, something was amiss, something went terribly wrong... There was a shift in the lines of power that flowed through terra like veins in one of his hapless victims. He rose, strode into his Room of Mirrors...

Hmmm, Teraphin was still there, plotting new nefarious schemes...

The Empire mages, as usual no real information, it was as if some of them didn't exist at all... (;P)

Orlan, still sleeping... The so called sexy sexy man, bah...

 

He watched the Men all the time, they were always out for trouble. And that was exactly what he sought.

 

But what was that??? One mirror was broken, shattered into pieces.

Casting a spell of mending he quickly fixed it and concentrated hard to find out what made it crash...

 

NOoooooooooooo, NOT HIM!!!!

 

Doom

 

Hey Bale, nice to see ya back...

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Guest Minta Rose

Woods, Crooner from Hell

 

If Iuz the Old had peered into another mirror entirely he might have a scried a strange looking hulk in a lonely corner of the Banquet Hall. About 10 feet tall with bits of foliage escaping from various random apertures in its cloak, it looks like an Ent in need of a good prune. It is, of course, Woods, the second-worst singer in the history of Terra*. And he is downing double Vodka and Saps at an alarming rate.

Ents don't usually drink alone. Most Ents don't drink alcohol at all, the consumption of distilled poison not deemed part of nature's grand plan for fauna. But Woods doesn't give a hydra's hairbrush for all that. Right now he's a seething, rustling canopy of hatred, envy and manic depression. He's gonna drink until his roots shrivel and drop off. Every so often he reaches into his cloak and pulls out a Potion of Serotonin Inhibition, chasing it down with a Gin and Growfast. Bloody trunkshrinks, thinks Woods, silently cursing the arbopsychiatrist who had prescribed him this supposedly-antidepressive brew. "Waste of decent crushed pixie testicle, if you ask me," he mutters to no-one in particular.

 

What is irking the atonal Ent today is not so much the fact that he has no friends (this is normal; his regular drinking companion is the Grim Squeaker, reaper of rodents, and even rattus morticus has grown bored of Woods's self-eviscerating monologues); nor that he has no money (it takes a lot of booze to get a tree pissed); nor even that his song-writing muse has taken an unscheduled break (most of the citizens of Terra are not exactly wringing their hands in despair at the fact that Woods and the Surfing Druids have temporarily disbanded). No, the real reason for Woods's epic bender is a piece of disturbing news he has picked up on the Terran grapevine. Rumour has it that his arch-nemesis, the smug, wise-cracking, vain, tree-baiting bastard known as Bale is back! The gullible and easily swayed (not a great quality for a tree) Woods has been the patsy to the scheming Man of Terra on more than one occasion, and the news that this toerag Tarakian is back on the scene is the rotten icing on a stinking cake of a week for Woods, having already been turned into a fireball (again), this time by a newbie mage in the Apprentice banquet hall.

 

Something snaps inside Woods! Unfortunately, it's not his temper, but one of his upper branches which has given up on getting any water any time soon. Woods stares dolefully as his erstwhile limb which is now lying on the floor next to his chair. With one of his other branches he gropes for another bottle and contemplates volunteering his services to a local carpenter...

 

*The worst singer in the history of Terra is generally considered to be Barky Bark, Woods's great-grandfather (no-one can remember his real name). Legend has it that scroll-recordings of his vocal endeavours were used by sailors to repel Sirenes.

 

(OOC: good to see you back, Bale. Get in touch!)

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