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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

As I sometimes do I decided to come floating by and see how everything was going. As I usually am I was once again hit square in the face with a flood of fond rememberances.

 

I simply felt the need to extend my appreciation to those who work so hard to preserve what is not only an outstanding writing community, but an archive of much of my past as well. To all the writers, my thanks as well for giving me a reason to come back and check up on all of you time and again. ;) My congratulations as well for having the courage to risk critisism by posting anything at all.

 

Thank you all once again for keeping this special place going. :)

 

-Joat

Posted

*is awed by the appearance of the legendary Joat*

=)

hey, hi, welcome back, gonna stick around for a while? ;)

Posted

Mmmm... I may piddle around for a bit. Depends entirely on how busy I do or do not get. Repaged marked the site on my laptop after repaving it though ;P

 

-Joat

Posted

The Loremaster quitely passes the retired Demigod, the former prophet, (the big weiner!) a small wooden crate labeled "DO NOT TOUCH" in 39 different languages. Once he has unfastened the six six-stone locks attached the six massive iron chains holding the crate shut, he pries open the lid with the crowbar handily tied to its' egde, removes a casing of solid granite with said crowbar, revealing a cask made entirely of a metal known only to a dwindling few as mithril, recites the secret word that dismisses the ancient air dragon from its' vigilant guarding against any mortal touch, waits for the first new moon (which is when the lock on the cask's stopper becomes visible), and opens Ozymandias' last remaining supply of the drink nearly lost to the ages known simply as "Ol' Peculiar".

 

Wafting the aroma issuing rapidly forth to his nose with his hand, Joat sighs happily as the scent summons yet more memories of kingdoms lost and kingdoms won, friends lost, and friends found, some sort of strange organized sport played with a living ball, and of course, Squirrels.

 

His nose hairs obligingly burst into flame.

Posted

Hello Joat, or should I call you 116? It's been to long since last we spoke. Although you were always an eccentric AM player you won my friendship and my respect but a simple act. You help me out of a tough jam and I have never forgotten that. Hope that all is well with you and everyone you care about. Your old friend Regel

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