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In a tavern long ago,
A golem wandered to and fro.
It served the drinks and puzzled guests
With odd advice to aid their quests.
To the newcomer it would say
These tips just might save your day:
When fat demon says "Fresh Meat!"
use Butcher Bashing strats by Pete!
When tall king comes back from dead
Fire a holy bolt at his head!
Choosing a bow to kill the rest?
Everyone knows Needler is the Best!
Eaglehorn is also kool.
The GPOW user is a tool.
Read these excellent posts and links
And you'll survive the glooms and blinks.
And when gold coins in dungeon gleam,
IGNORE THE STUPID PYRAMID SCHEME!
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10-11-2003, 11:49 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-13-2003, 08:03 AM by Sr.Juez.)
Nystul, Oct 11 2003, 10:30 AM Wrote:The GPOW user is a tool.
Or should it be: "The GPOW user is a fool"?.
Oh, I'm surprised that this game can inspire poetry.
I liked it, Nystul.
EDIT: "Licencia poética" ---> Poetic licence.
"La espada de la divina justicia no hiere prematura ni tardÃamente, aunque una u otra cosa parezca a los que la deseen o la temen".
Dante Alighieri
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Nice, Nystul! But you didn't mention TFoS anywhere in it. I... I hope that was just an oversight.
Song Parody Repost
Quote:Hero, there's no need to feel down
I said, Hero, pick them rags off the ground
I said, Hero, 'cause you're in a new town
There's no need to be undapper
Hero, there're some rags you can use
I said, Hero, you'll have nothing to lose
You can wear 'em, and I'm sure you will find
That you feel so damn well-dressed.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
They're infested with lice, for everyone to enjoy
Don't mind the smell now, boy.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
You can't get it clean
It won't make a good meal
But you'll love the way you feel.
Hero, why don't you strut your stuff
I said, Hero, watch the ill-dressed flee in a huff
I said, Hero, don't you pick at the seams
It's an indestructible thing.
No man, does it all by himself
I said, Hero, put your plate on the shelf
And just leave it be, wear the T.F.O.S.
If you're hassled just confess
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
And if you forget, that silly codpiece
You can even air out your boys.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
You can clear out a room
Yeah, with its stink of doom
It's never touched a loom
Hero, I was once in your shoes,
They were comfy, but I still had the blues
I felt, everyone wanted my ear
But now these rags protect my rear
Lemmin' came up to me on the street
and said, "Hero, wear this putrid sheet
It's a towel, called the T.F.O.S.
There's nothing better to save your ass"
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
They're everything, any armor aspires
And they don't burn if you set 'em on fire
T.F.O.S.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
It's fun to dress in the T.F.O.S.
Hero, Hero, take the golden rags from the floor
Hero, Hero, with these rags you'll never get sore
T.F.O.S.
Just equip the T.F.O.S.
Hero, Hero, when your plate starts to rust
Hero, Hero, just remember these rags are no fuss
T.F.O.S.
T.F.O.S.
T.F.O.S.
T.F.O.S.
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Well I must say I preferred Nystul's :P
"The axe? Aye, that's a good weapon, balanced against any foe. Look how it cleaves the air, and then, imagine a nice fat demon head in its path. Keep in mind, however, that it is slow to swing - but talk about dealing a heavy blow!"
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If that was the same golem I'm thinking of, that golem also kept track of everyone's tab for the week, and if you said its name, would repeat whatever you just said. It also had some insult for some sloppy new customers, something along the lines of knowing a lot about rouge but not about rogues. Am I on the right track here??
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If that was the same Vandiablo I'm thinking of, that Vandiablo also kept track of everyone's tab for the week, and if you said its name, would repeat whatever you just said. It also had some insult for some sloppy new customers, something along the lines of knowing a lot about rouge but not about rogues. Am I on the right track here??
Golem,
Not Available at Eaglewerks
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Or should it be: "The GPOW user is a fool"?.
The "tool" was not a typo on my part. It's a rough example of the odd quips this golem was trained to say. Surely you are not the first to be puzzled by this choice of words.
Oh, I'm surprised that this game can inspire poetry.
It has inspired a surprisingly large amount of poetry, song, and prose. Not to mention strat guides and data tables!
I liked it, Nystul.
Glad you enjoyed it :)
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Nice, Nystul! But you didn't mention TFoS anywhere in it. I... I hope that was just an oversight.
Woops! What a tragic mistake! Just for you, an impromptu limerick:
I once found the Torn Flesh of Souls
And knew I'd achieve all my goals.
For it must be the best
Armor found in a chest.
It lasts ages without forming holes!
So if you ever run into gnolls
Who attack you with sharp pointy poles,
Wear the ancient skin vest
From a march in the West.
You can count on the Torn Flesh of Souls!
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Who needs King Leoric when you have Skeletor? (Torn Flesh of Souls not included) :blink:
The Torn Flesh of Souls is a marvelous rag
You can use it as armor or a right to brag
If you don't mind the blood and ignore all the flies
This suit is the best, I am telling no lies.
It saves you from nasties of every sort.
The demons of hell will be sad to report
That although 2x2 is really short
The smell of these rags will make their lungs contort
Because this armor makes you uber-leet
It looks like dead donkey and smells like your feet.
You can beat anyone, even if they cheat
Because no other armor can even compete.
Better than a Godly Full Plate Mail
Even if its suffix is of the Whale.
T.F.o.S is greater than great.
This is a constant, there can be no debate.
I could go on for days about the Torn Flesh of Souls
It's dusty and crusty and it's full of holes.
But don't let the tattered appearance fool you
So don these super rags, but clean off the goo. :P
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10-12-2003, 03:09 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-12-2003, 03:11 PM by LemmingofGlory.)
D1 Poetry Contest
Write a poem celebrating anything about Diablo 1.
The topic need not be TFoS. TFoS poetry might influence my vote somewhat, but not the other mods. If you're stuck for a topic, some suggestions: cheaters, public bnet, Murphy, item finding, TFoS, shrine hunting, Wirt, Farnham, Cain, other townies, TFoS, cows, cow level, Hellfire, character classes, first time finding TFoS, first time on bnet, reverting from D2 to D1, praising D1 over D2, D himself.
The Rules
1) Any style of verse is acceptable: Limerick, free verse, sonnet, ode, etc. Songs and parodies of existing works are also acceptable.
2) No minimum or maximum length.
3) Funny is ideal, but you could do serious verse.
4) Up to five entries (individual works) may be entered per person.
5) Post entries in this thread. Anywhere's fine.
6) E-mail and Private Message submissions are not accepted.
7) The Contest is not an excuse to soil the Lounge. A post that would be moderated under normal circumstances will still be moderated, even if it's an entry. (In other words, nothing too dirty.)
Winning
1) The Mods of the Lounge Table will alone decide the winner.
2) Mods can enter but cannot win.
3) We usually end up with a tie.
The Prize
The Winner receives their very own Lurker Lounge title of their choosing!
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Second entry! (I want to win!!! [probably should have at least put in an entry in the last contest... about the D2 SSTSI])
(To the tune of " Walking in a Winter Wonderland")
Public games, you're not missing
In the game, gold is glistening
A horrible sight, we're pubbies tonight
Cheating in a B.net public game
Gone away is the legit
That's very sad, isn't it?
He plays a pure build as we go unskilled
Cheating in a B.net public game
With the town kill we can kill your warrior
Then pretend that it was really lag.
He'll say "Are you stupid?"
We'll say "No, man!"
But you can do the job when you're in town :P
Later on we'll conspire as we cheat by the fire
To face unafraid, with the dupes that we'll trade
Cheating in a B.net public game
Blizzard Reps, are you listening?
In the game, gold is glistening'
A horrible sight, we're pubbies tonight
Cheating in a B.net public game
Gone away are the pure builds
Here to stay is the new build
I am a rube, and you are a noob.
Cheating in a B.net public game
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If anyone knows the Star Wars: A New Hope opening text, could you please PM it to me? "Long, long ago in a realm far, far away...
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To Stone Temple Pilots' "Plush":
And I fee-eel
That I must cheat to be cool
So I will simply throw some Apoc
All around
I Found it on a sta-aff
Just lyin on the grou-ound
And I found it
No, I found it
Where I got it, don't reca-all
But recharge: not an issue with this staff
And I feel and I feel
When the dogs begin to smell me
I'll just grab the GPO-OOOO
W!
And I'll spa-am
"You can die!!!1!!!~!!" if don't believe me
Cuz I am a-aa legit play'r
Can I see
Your two rings real fast, wanna du-upe them
Please, I'll give em right back
And I found it
Said I found it
Where I got it, don't reca-all
I think it might've been Lazarus
And I feel and I feel
When the knights begin to smell me
Time for TC ammy-yy
.
.
.
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Threads: 35
Joined: Feb 2003
"The Glory That Is TFOS"
(repost)
I was doubting my legit-ness
and I thought that I should try
to cheat and hack on Battle.net
so that I wouldn't die
and make myself some items
that my money couldn't buy
but not TFOS
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
But not TFOS
I made myself another char
and went to play again
I busted up a pack of flying
critters and dead men
then I caught a red-draped skeleton
off his guard and then
he dropped TFOS
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
He dropped TFOS
Them mighty mighty rags
that take up very little space
that make me feel stronger
and they'll never be replaced
These gloried rags they saved me
from the cheater's bad embrace
my own TFOS
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
Glory, glory hallelujah
My own TFOS
-----
I need at least 6 hours of sleep to be original. :P
UPDATE: Spamblaster.
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Or is that considered "old news not fit to reprint?"
Cry 'Havoc' and let slip the Men 'O War!
In War, the outcome is never final. --Carl von Clausewitz--
Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum
John 11:35 - consider why.
In Memory of Pete
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How many times do I have to tell you? No text!
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This is the first time I try making poetry in English, so feel free to laugh AT it :lol: I think I'll try soma haiku later (to quote Mr. Garrison: "A haiku is just like a normal American poem, except that it doesn't rhyme and it's totally stupid", so I might have better luck with them ;)).
Random Ode.
The Evil of Terror is walking the land,
after years of slumber he has been woken up.
Woe is me!
Woe is me!
Impeding doom that will soon spread afar!
I cannot quench my thirst in the fountain by Cain,
I no longer can flirt with Gillian the maid.
Curse our foes!
Curse our foes!
They poisoned the water and stole Odgen's Sign!
No friends are left here, they were all by the Butcher
in a gruesome way hack-and-dispatch'ed.
Death to them all!
Death to them all!
I will look at them meet the end of my rapier!
The Butcher was first to fall to my wrath,
and avenging this way a friend on my path.
Sucks to be you!
Sucks to be you!
I have cleared the wells, now I can take a bath!
Leoric, once noble Lord of this Kingdom,
crumbled to my feet and his friends and his minions.
He was my king!
He was my king!
He's not anymore, he's out of commission!
The smith of the Town has made me a ring
with a rock that I found of all strange things.
But it didn't work!
But it didn't work!
Rejected by Gillian she said I must leave!
Adria now wants me to go find a stool
to give me a potion that feels really smooth.
And it works!
And it works!
For now I see colours and Gill gave me a smooch!
The Anvil of Fury I now haul along,
and Griswold the Smith from it made a sword.
What a fool!
What a fool!
I have a sharp edge, I wanted a bow!
Soon I will finish this tribulation,
as I killed Lazarus and her sex...erm... awful harlots.
Diablo is next!
Diablo is next!
And to make this rhyme I will just say "parrots!".
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Per Blizzard's M rating, the game, and thus its poetry, is aimed at Mature (17 & older) audiences. Parents are reminded to screen Diablo poetry to determine its suitability, particularly if they choose to allow their under 17-year-old children access to such tripe.
Yeah, on further review, this one is a bit coarse.
~~ El Diablazeta ~~ *
(Loosely translated from the original Khandarin dialect, although I will confess that this durned red jewel in my head makes it tough to recall verses verbatim*)
A clever rapscallion, young Wirt,
He's ambitious, resourceful, alert.
He has dreams of great riches,
Of wearing silk one-legged britches,
But he still wipes his nose on his shirt.
When Pepin first came to Tristram
He was in a wee bit of a jam,
Seems the folks who owned farms
Were all up in arms,
Since they'd caught him molesting a lamb
In the Tavern dear Gillian works
Which allows her the following perks
She gets free food and drink
A daily bath in the sink
And advances from both gents and jerks
Sir Gorash "did" Snow Witch Swoboda,
Got his jollies, but gave her no "O" (Duh!)
So with great savoir faire,
She stood on a chair,
And pissed in his whiskey and soda!
Sensanombre, at Ogden's a-drinking,
Thought he saw Gillian's eye at him winking,
He reached under her skirt,
Then pulled back, his hand hurt!
'Twas her Sparkling Chastity Belt twinkling!
A hot-blooded rogue named Occhee,
Told Grizwold, "For ten gold, you get mee.
To do zee French way,
Merely double zee pay,
But today doggie style is for free!"
There was an old sorcerer, Il Bruto,
Whose mind was obsessed by his root-o
He said, "I'm tired of my hand
On the Rod of Onan --
I'll bet rogering Laz is a hoot, though!"
Diablo sat moping in Hell,
With nothing to do but to dwell,
On his red family jewel
And his useless old tool-
That even Black Jade's tongue can't swell!
(So now ya know why he makes that motion . . .)
The Butcher, as a boredom reliever,
Played mubbledy peg with his cleaver.
But his lack of dexterity,
Caused a wound whose severity,
Means his "Fresh Meat" is no beaver cleaver.
King Leoric, that boney old Tyrant
Is anorexic and nasty, but I rant.
'Spit', his pet Lava Maw,
When he lifts his back paw,
Thinks Leoric's a royal good hydrant!
Sweet Adria, Dame of arcane arts,
Sells you potions and magical parts
But her Magic Elixers,
Cold brews and hot mixtures,
Still won't cure Farnum's case of the farts
When Blood Lust and Red Vex were succubi,
They'd seduce you and tease you and *&^% you (sigh),
But now they're both Mistresses,
Of Blood Stars and Whips 'n spurs,
They'll just tie you and beat you- with luck "you'll die!"
Old Farnham drinks whiskey all day
(Shakes down Wirt to get money to pay)
When the boy has no dough
To level four he must go
Selling the Snotspill the sign again -- Hey!
The rest doesn't scan too well in English. =P
*=With apologies, to the folks at Blizzard who wrote the original poetry in the manual, for any errors I have made in recalling the words, phrasing, and/or meter.
Occhidiangela, Rogue with a Pure Heart, but perhaps a dirty mind ;^)
Cry 'Havoc' and let slip the Men 'O War!
In War, the outcome is never final. --Carl von Clausewitz--
Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum
John 11:35 - consider why.
In Memory of Pete
Posts: 1,250
Threads: 16
Joined: Feb 2003
I meant for this to be a little change of pace from the more humorous works posted so far, but it kind of took a life of it's own (read: got very long and time consuming). So make yourself comfortable before you read it... hopefully it's somewhat enjoyable and not just hokey!
TRISTRAM GOTHIC
An eerie fog engulfed the path
In darkness and despair.
While distant thunder roared with wrath,
A cold wind froze the air.
It was a gloomy night...
A wand'ring Hero buckled down
And trudged into the haze.
He hoped to go to his home town
And relive simpler days.
But something was not right.
A stale breeze filled the Hero's breath
With horrifying smell:
The gruesome stench of rotting death
And sulfur ash from Hell!
His face turned clammy white.
The Hero made it to town square
Right at the break of dawn.
He found the barkeep Ogden there,
But all his friends were gone.
Some dead. Some fled in fright.
There yet remained a ragtag crew:
Young Wirt the amputee
And Farnham, broken hero who
Gets drunk in misery.
More signs of Tristram's blight.
The healer Pepin, Cain the sage,
The burly blacksmith Gris.
Sweet Gillian, Garda (weak with age),
And Adria the wiz.
The only folks in sight.
They told the Hero a grim tale
About their kidnapped prince.
Their rescue efforts all didst fail.
They had not seen him since.
The Hero heard their plight.
They told about a monstrous beast.
The Butcher was its name.
It hunted prey to fix a feast,
But humans were it's game!
An evil apetite!
They told about their noble King.
A madness plagued his head.
He swore a dying curse to bring
Him back as an undead.
A lich of towering height!
These tales all had a common tie
Beneath the house of prayer.
The Hero chose to help out by
Investigating there.
He vowed to join the fight.
The church gleamed red with blood and fire:
Demonic sacrifice.
The chants and howls of demons dire
Would chill your bones like ice!
A most unholy site.
The Hero leaped into the fray
And slaughtered demon rats.
He hacked and slashed and bashed his way
Through skeletons and bats.
He fought with skill and might.
He found the Butcher's blood and gore:
A beast ten time's his size!
He trapped the fiend behind a door,
Put arrows through it's eyes!
Good thing the door was tight!
The grating sound of creaking bone:
The undead King is here!
He rises from his casket throne
And calls the Hero near.
A funeral invite.
The King looked tough with mithril blade
And massive battle crown.
The Hero swung his mace and made
The bony King fall down.
May his soul find the light!
The Hero's work was not yet done.
The demons grew in force.
Before the war was declared won,
He had to find their source.
He wasn't finished, quite.
In damp, dark catacombs and caves,
The battle grew in scale.
Large acid beasts attacked in waves.
The Hero's skin turned pale.
He feared the mongrels' bite!
He killed them all, went deeper down,
And gave a primal yell.
His smile flipped into a frown.
He'd reached the gates to Hell!
Our Hero was uptight!
The heat of brimstone scalding red
And stench of sulfur fume,
The demon knights brought back from dead
To bring the world it's doom:
The Devil's dream delight!
In Hell there was an altar slab
To which a boy was tied.
A bishop used a kris to stab
The boy until he died.
A warped satanic rite!
"You are too late to save the child!"
The bishop's final line.
It caused the Hero to go wild
And tear apart his spine!
Betrayer slain in spite!
And now before the Hero's eyes
A pentagram appeared:
A sign of where Diablo lies,
The Devil whom all feared!
Or so the prophets write.
Beyond the seal the Hero fought
Diablo's elite guard:
A demon lord in armor wrought
From steel, in brimstone charred.
The hero beat the knight!
All quake in fear! Diablo's near!
The Lord of Terror wakes!
Explosions scorch the atmosphere
With every step he takes!
Satanic dynamite!
The Hero stayed his shaking hand
And prayed to make it through.
He bravely swung his broadsword and
It sliced his foe in two!
Diablo he didst smite!
Diablo's soul in stone of red
The source of all this sin.
The Hero thrust it in his head
To trap the Beast within!
He thought he'd be alright.
The town began to celebrate
Their victory that day.
Their Hero could not concentrate.
He had to slip away!
An isolation flight.
Diablo's master plans complete
As Hero wanders east.
His mind and soul suffer defeat.
He turns into the Beast!
Another gloomy night...
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Enjoyed it. :)
Cry 'Havoc' and let slip the Men 'O War!
In War, the outcome is never final. --Carl von Clausewitz--
Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum
John 11:35 - consider why.
In Memory of Pete
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