Nalrok_AthZim

No they haven't, you just won't listen to anyone when they tell you otherwise. There's a difference.

You can't Power Boost bubbles. Also, the Clockwork King does Psi damage. What doesn't a Granite Tanker have resistance to? Also it's an AV. They can get through defense easier than any enemy in the game. Terrible example is terrible.

.....

Hate to tell you, but Dispersion bubble provides (at level 50) a mag 5 Hold/Disorient/Immobilize protection.

(Pardon me because I'm about to be very rude out of frustration and confusion.)

Then why the **** are they in the game as a selectable powerset?!

Your opinion is not fact. It never will be. If a toon needs bubbles to do it's job, maybe it's a Dominator! Maybe it's a Fire Controller! Those two characters will have HUGE AoE's that may or may not be inside the taunt aura of the team's tank! Maybe it's a Fire Tanker, or a Shield user, both of which will gain massive amounts of survivability from extra defense. Bubbles help no matter what, and getting them is always a boon, regardless of what you may think. They keep the team alive longer through defensive mitigation and they can make a WORLD of difference on a defense-based character.

Your arrogance and belief that your opinion is fact is not only extremely short-sighted but incredibly frustrating.

Virtue loves new RPers. We'll teach you, and we'll have fun doing it.

It's a Strike Target. That's Weekly.

Weekly Strike Target.

WST. There's even a thread of the same name.

I know it might be funny to some, but I will forever read WTF as "what the ****". It's hard to make the distinction when just casually reading Broadcast.

See my above response.

It's WST.

We're not in high school.

You've been playing with the wrong Brutes.

You mean like that other MMO company with the biggest MMO out there?

"Nice addon. We're going to steal the source code without your permission, add it to our game's inherent UI, and make it useless. Thanks for your contribution to the modding community!"

Seriously. Rest in peace, Gatherer team/Questmanager team.

I'm going to agree with Tech here. Again, let me use the car example.

It would be like buying a new car, but since you may not have enough money, they'll give you the car but not the keys to use it. Stupid.

This. Anyone that tells you this game was "ruined" by something is a dick.

Quote:

Has your character ever done anything that went against their character, reputation, beliefs or attitude? Or all of those at once?

Opening night at St. Martial's newly-refurbished Sonata Hall. The show for the night was the complete works of Carmina Burana, featuring the talent of Thomas Hampson as the Baritone. Tickets for the event were several hundred dollars apiece. The show was on the bring of selling out, with almost all of Arachnos' more eclectic higher-ups making appearances, with the exception of Black Scorpion and Mako. In the balcony, the cadre of Lord Recluse, Ghost Widow and Scirocco would sit, though they had yet to arrive. While waiting for the usher, several Arbiters had speculated that they would not show; their predictions would later prove correct, much to the dismay of the audience.

Outside, a cement-cracking thud was heard. Heavy footfalls accompanied by the unmistakable sound of air buffeted by strong wings made the announcement of his arrival. Nalrok Ath'Zim, the one and only. The entire line scattered to either side of his path, staring cautiously, nervously.

"Why is he here?"
"What would he be doing at an opera?"
"We're going to die, Frank! I told you we should have stayed home!"
"Damn, not my luck."

The murmurs and mutterings never ceased as he calmly walked to the ticket booth. The attendant was whiter than the bones of death himself, swallowing hard and trembling like a small dog in cold weather. The demon lord spoke two simple, rumbling, guard-shattering words to the small man behind the glass.

"One, please."

The patrons of Sonata Hall fell silent. Curious whispers slithered between persons, and the air near the set of twin entrances shifted from fear to tense, confused buzzing. The attendant ceased his trembling long enough to pull a single ticket and hand it to the behemoth entity before him. Gingerly, delicately, almost sophisticatedly, Nalrok plucked the ticket from the shaking hand that had presented it to him.

"F-f-f-f-f-f-four fifty, s-s-sir," the attendant, who's eyes went wide as the demon lord handed him a tightly packed wad of money.

"There is six hundred there. Do with the extra what you will. Thank you--" Nalrok said as he leaned in, the glowing orbs that were his eyes narrowing for a moment as he examined the attendant's nametag, "--Gerald. I've been looking forward to this for quite some time. Do try to calm the gathering behind me; they seem to think their lives are about to end. I cannot imagine why." And with that, Nalrok's gargantuan frame strode eagerly into Sonata Hall.

The same fearful hush that gripped the line of people outside gripped the audience as Nalrok made his way to his seat. Third row, seat 40, he read in his mind as he stared at the ticket. Front and center, for the most part. He wondered if that seat was actually vacant or if Gerald had given it to him in hopes that his life would be spared. Scooting sideways to his seat in the same awkward way every living being who'd ever entered a theater had done before him, Nalrok found seat 40 and sat in it, the poor piece of furniture creaking under his immense weight. Surprisingly, he had ample room to shift around. Not surprisingly, he was suddenly the only one sitting in the third row. He rolled his eyes, despite the fact that actually rolling them produced no different a visual than if he kept them in place. Was it unheard of that a being such as himself would enjoy opera, especially when he had only hear bits and pieces of Carmina Burana?

The orchestra filed in silently, taking their seats and preparing for the performance. The conductor took his place at the podium, turning to bow to the audience. Instead, he shrieked like a frightened infant when he saw Nalrok's two eyes smoldering back at him from the third row.

"For the love of all that is considered holy," Nalrok said without hesitance. "I am a guest here, conductor. Do not let my presence here impede your performance." The audience murmured for a few seconds, firmly disbelieving that this was somehow Night Out for Nalrok.

"Y-yes! Yes," the conductor stammered. "Ladies and gentlemen, villains and vigilantes, humans and demons--" He paused, analyzing the crowd, "--demon, tonight we present a true masterpiece by Carl Orff, the timeless Carmina Burana, with no movements excepted. The performance will be in full, with the Baritone Thomas Hampson."

The audience, Nalrok included, clapped pleasantly. Hampson appeared from back stage, almost jumping out of his tuxedo when he saw Nalrok. Nalrok held up a hand and made the universal "get on with it" gesture. With a slight widening of his eyes and a cleansing of his throat, Hampson began, accompanied by the orchestra and the choir.

For almost two hours the entire congregation sat, the music of Carmina Burana flowing through Sonata Hall. Each movement led seamlessly into the next, painting a picture with sound and presenting it to some of the most interesting people in the Rogue Isles. When the music finished and the lights dimmed, the first person to stand was Nalrok. He stood swiftly, clapping loudly, his wings flaring and sending the sheet music for the flute and oboe section spiraling through the air. The rest of the audience followed swiftly, not out of fear but out of appreciation of the performance.

---

"I couldn't believe that was him out there," Hampson said. "Thought I was going to die every time I was on stage."

"I know. I wonder why he came. Did he really--"

The door to the dressing room opened an inch.

A deep, rumbling voice inquired calmly, "May I come in?"

"Ye-yes! Yes of course," Hampson said, startled.

Nalrok entered the dressing room and held out a metal plated hand. "Thank you for your performance tonight. My experiences with the music of this genre are unfortunately few and far between, so I can tell you with all the honesty I carry that you have captured the art of opera and done so masterfully."

Relaxing, Hampson shook his hand. "Well... thank you. I'm glad I could take you on the journey written by Mr. Orff. For the entire performance I thought you were here to destroy Sonata Hall, but... I guess you were here for art, and I'm surprised by that."

"I have lived for countless centuries, and I have seen my share of the arts. Keeping opera alive is a difficult task. I do hope you'll return to the Isles so I can attend another of your performances." Nalrok backed up two steps and began to exit.

"I think I will. Nalrok, correct? Ath... Ath..."

"Ath'Zim, Mr. Hampson."

"Ath'Zim. I'll come back when I can, then."

Nalrok left Sonata Hall silently, opening his wings in preparation to fly.

SKREEEEEEEEEECH, HOOOOOOOOOONK!

He looked down and to his left, a small convertible with a Family Consiglier at the wheel honking at him furiously. With no words, not even a sound, he picked the vehicle up and folded it in half. The clump of metal hit the ground with a thunk, a stream of blood leaking along the pavement and into a sewer as the demon lord thrashed upward, spiraling through the evening sky.

Judgement. More interesting play at 50. Stuff. I don't know, think something up!

Edit: Whoa, where'd that post go?

If you want I can PM you with some info. My pop works for Apple (and not just at a store; System Engineer!) and I can get you all the skinny you need for a good rig.

IT HAS BEEN SPOKEN. IT MUST BE DONE. RELEASE THE ANIMAL PACK EARLY.

Please.

If you go to the Brute forums, there's a thread on Ice Brutes. I have said this about fifty times now: The mechanics if Ice will no longer affect Fury due to Fury changes. It's been proven.

Ice Brutes now please.

.... >_>

I'm game if you are. xD

Dech's MFing Warshade Guide really helped with my 'Shade. He'd been sitting in the wings for three years and, upon reading the guide, EXPLODED INTO AMAZING.

Everything Dechs says is spot-on. I found myself on teams with the Tanker marveling at my ability to handle and decimate entire crowds. The healer was baffled by my ability to go from 50 health and 5 endurance to full after wasting a full spawn. The ranged damage was sick of my two Fluffies firing out more volleys than an infuriated missile platform, and the controllers were in love with Inky Aspect as it allowed them first-strike Containment damage.

Hell, the Scrapper was telling me to slow down!

Did I? HELL NO!

I couldn't see past the purple tendrils, I couldn't hear anything but screams, I couldn't feel anything but the life of my enemies being pumped like steroids into my unstoppable veins!

... And when I snapped to reality, the mission was complete and the team was staring at me in horror and awe.