Browse around or we'll destroy you as we did with ICE Extreme!
Upon the horizon-sand. On the ground-sand. In the air-sand. Nothing but desert. Years later, the confusion of what had actually happened still lingers deep in this man's swirling brain. The army had dismantled-it had been disbanded by a coup which grew to take over the three lands. Exiled, in this saddened haven of stale lifelessness, the once-General never ceases to wonder what has become of the world outside his dusty prison-what has happened since this suspicious group gained power? From town to town they went, seducing the people with their liberal promises and words of wonder... why had the people even felt the need for such a change? Why was the installation in the mountains made redundant; the entire central command and bulk of the armed forces along with it, the second the new government took power? He would never know. Not so long as he remained here-a vague spot in a collosal vortex of sand and humidity. How he lived and-most likely-how he could die were determined by how far he could stray from the cool oasis. This water and the life that surrounded it provided his only source of being-but he has been resillient. Nobody knew he could have survived this long. Nobody knew he had even survived. Whatever even happened to the Alphas? A glimmer of hope passes by in his mind as he thinks of the prospect of his associates, and their possible survival. Surely he was not the only one scraped from his downtown apartment in the City at night, to be dropped in the middle of hell. He has all these thoughts as ever, but recently he prefers to be more objective. Every day he waits for his prey for hours, catching what little food he can find scurrying amongst the abandoned dunes. Every day, the same colours and the same scents. On the horizon-sand. On the ground-sand. In the air-... As the sandstorm settles down, a solid object can be spotted in the sky. It's coming closer. It's probably a bird. A very fast bird. A very fast, enormous bird. He figured it was time ro run out of the way. With a huge crash and an enormous wave of scattering sand, a plane with shark-like decals hits the ground, spectacularly scathed. The sand-dweller treks towards the vehicle, with an undescribable lack of caution-as though this situation felt... undisputably safe. With an aged hydraulic "hiss", the cocpit glass opens and out pops... Just as the ex-General opened his mouth to address this character, lost for words-the pilot said "No, it's Stevie now-I figured I needed a name change and I needed to hide myself one way or another." The General was ecstatic at this reunion with not only his once-colleague and friend, but simply this other form of intelligent life-of which he had been deprived for years. "How long have you been here? Three years?! I have no idea how you managed it. Nor if the others have even managed..." The General, now confused and hungry for information, asked what he meant by "the others". "Sit down, Eddie-I have a lot to tell you."LegoWars 2k. 2000-2003... but thats up to you.
Upon the horizon-sand. On the ground-sand. In the air-sand. Nothing but desert. Years later, the confusion of what had actually happened still lingers deep in this man's swirling brain. The army had dismantled-it had been disbanded by a coup which grew to take over the three lands. Exiled, in this saddened haven of stale lifelessness, the once-General never ceases to wonder what has become of the world outside his dusty prison-what has happened since this suspicious group gained power? From town to town they went, seducing the people with their liberal promises and words of wonder... why had the people even felt the need for such a change? Why was the installation in the mountains made redundant; the entire central command and bulk of the armed forces along with it, the second the new government took power?
He would never know. Not so long as he remained here-a vague spot in a collosal vortex of sand and humidity. How he lived and-most likely-how he could die were determined by how far he could stray from the cool oasis. This water and the life that surrounded it provided his only source of being-but he has been resillient. Nobody knew he could have survived this long. Nobody knew he had even survived. Whatever even happened to the Alphas? A glimmer of hope passes by in his mind as he thinks of the prospect of his associates, and their possible survival. Surely he was not the only one scraped from his downtown apartment in the City at night, to be dropped in the middle of hell.
He has all these thoughts as ever, but recently he prefers to be more objective. Every day he waits for his prey for hours, catching what little food he can find scurrying amongst the abandoned dunes. Every day, the same colours and the same scents. On the horizon-sand. On the ground-sand. In the air-... As the sandstorm settles down, a solid object can be spotted in the sky. It's coming closer. It's probably a bird. A very fast bird. A very fast, enormous bird. He figured it was time ro run out of the way.
With a huge crash and an enormous wave of scattering sand, a plane with shark-like decals hits the ground, spectacularly scathed. The sand-dweller treks towards the vehicle, with an undescribable lack of caution-as though this situation felt... undisputably safe. With an aged hydraulic "hiss", the cocpit glass opens and out pops...
Just as the ex-General opened his mouth to address this character, lost for words-the pilot said "No, it's Stevie now-I figured I needed a name change and I needed to hide myself one way or another." The General was ecstatic at this reunion with not only his once-colleague and friend, but simply this other form of intelligent life-of which he had been deprived for years. "How long have you been here? Three years?! I have no idea how you managed it. Nor if the others have even managed..." The General, now confused and hungry for information, asked what he meant by "the others".
"Sit down, Eddie-I have a lot to tell you."
Again an entire month without an update! My camera's broken so I'm afraid I'll have to dish out whatever I can to "entertain" you all. Notice the "'s around "entertain"-these are indications of a death threat related to not liking my site... Dr. Tango, Military Psychologist has been out of work for ages now! Go post your queries to him here. (And yes, I know the title image still reads "2002", I'm yet to change it).
-Grant Macmillan
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The above banner for LegoWars 2000 had it's graphics improved by Mike Rayhawk of Brikwars. Thanks a lot!
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