| Phaezed-Reality |
02-11-2021 09:45 AM |
The playing field was even. some would even say classic. Even though all the list camps, the UN, and the federation guilds tried. Norrath was a beautiful place. But behind the scenes there was a storm brewing. One by one, the antonicans began to get sick and infect others. First it started off as a a simple sniffle, then a cough. But soon their eyes glowed red with social justice anger. They projected their earth values into norrath. Where DMO saw erudite. They saw African-American. Where DMO saw roleplay, the antonicans saw racism. Where DMO saw dragon loots, and what ultimately drove them off the edge, the antonicans saw trash planar loots. All while stacking DKP with nothing to spend it on. The plan was hatched, we shall pester the server staff until they cause one to just not give a shit anymore. A cascade of events lead a once level headed fellow into a fury. He cast down his might on the mighty < Dark Men of Odus >. From here forth DMO will no longer be a guild he said. And so it was done. DMO was no more. little did he know a once humble, although superior in every way group of brothers had no guild tag. Just as the federation had lit the fire once before denying them a vote in the UN, he had managed to create a firestorm unlike which norrath has seen the rallos zek days of live.
To be continued.
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