Discussion in 'Spam....' started by Sorillon, Jul 4, 2007.
Sor never left. Trust me.
**** you, twat
*While the pair of you are arguing a nearby table is fully spread out with breakfast*
*gnaws on Sor's hand*
i really need breakfast
want a piece of hand?
*the hand in Blackness' mouth turns into sugar*
*grows a new hand*
I could go for something edible. Not like, a hand.
i need to get out of bed
*the long quiescent tent, though maintained by the work of spells crafted in irritation by an owner too chaotic to watch over the premises in person, had not seen a soul in months*
*The land outside was manicured, pools, gardens, groves, and rides kept in immaculate condition, yet none came to witness or enjoy*
*the sound of singing birds cut off as a strange feeling of vague disturbance creeps over Sorillon's Tent*
*Without warning ethereal green and golden fires surge from the shut mouth of the tent, blossoming like a beacon into the skyline of Spamopolis*
*the machines of the tent thrum to vibrant life*
*A hermit with a strange mask observes the happenings of the tent from a great distance. Curiously he begins a long trek to investigate*
*finishes breakfast in the woods and notices the burning pillar*
*it swirls before vanishing as quickly as it appeared billowing into the sky*
*the grounds are still, the birds beginning to nervously sing as the tent once more awakens*
*sees the burning pillar*
Well that is one way of saying "Sor is here" most places just settle for a signpost. Well he better be cooking something nice, and I dont mean those pidgeons that happened to be in the way of the burning pillar.
Another great thread.
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