Hive Offender Talks About The Real Enemy

I reinstalled Legends this morning after quitting yesterday like I do several times a week and was shocked by what happened when I played my first game.  I was playing Unite the Houses Mono-Green, so in the first few turns I was drawing cards and formulating a plan.  Come turn 3, however, my opponent broke the perfect and harmonious state of our game by playing and then ATTACKING me with a Giant Bat.  This depravity runs contrary to my sincerely held religious beliefs and should not be allowed.  I will now explain why.

The Church of Ladder Day Golden Saints raised me in their orphanarium from the age of four, when my parents robbed a bank and hit a dozen piercing javelin prophecies while trying to flee the scene.  They were unarmed, but they were also Morrowind-Tamrielans, so the review board found their deaths justified.  They were ratted out to the cops by this guy from Mournhold that they thought they could trust.

dark elves killed

Security Camera Footage, archived.

While at the orphanival, I was taught several valuable lessons.  Don’t lie.  Don’t steal.  Wash your ass.  And most importantly, I was taught that life is not a zero sun game.

That last part really took me awhile to understand.  I figured that since Tatooine had two suns, they must have stolen one of them from somewhere else.  Probably Hoth, since that place is so cold.

I did my seventy hours of chores a week gladly.  When I went into town to buy scouring pads and Ajax, I tried to ignore the nonbelievers, but I didn’t always succeed.

One frosty February morning I was at Home Despot shopping when an angry Nord bumped into my shoulder, not looking where he was going.  He spun around and glared at me.

nord attack

“Watch where you’re going, N’wah!” He growled.

His appropriation of my native tongue offended me, but I said nothing, only nodding.  I began to turn to find another aisle to walk down, but he grabbed me and spun me around.

“Where you think you’re going?”

I sighed.  “I have another place to be, my friend.”

“The only place,” he screamed, pulling back a fist, “is face!”

And he punched me right in the nose.  I felt it break as I fell backwards, laying on the ground as he laughed and walked off.

Later that night, after I returned to the Orphanapalooza, the Priest of the Eight called me into his office and sat me down.  He pulled up a news story on his computer and spun the monitor around so that I could read it.

It was the Nord who had attacked me.  It turns out that he had been possessed by a Daedra and had attacked the chickens in Whiterun.  The guards had killed him for his crime, of course.

The Priest of the Eight spoke when I finished reading.

“The real enemy,” he said, pointing at my chest, “is always inside.”

Sure, you may get a big screen that says “VICTORY” when you send creatures at your opponent in Legends, but it’s not a real victory.  The real victories come from defeating the demon within, so that they don’t like, kill chickens and shit.  Next time you think about attacking your so-called opponent, consider instead Lightning Bolting your own face, like good Uncle Pete intended.

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