Freedom Force Forum

A big welcome to our newest Theme Empire - Freedom Force.:CONGRAT:

Can't wait for your unveiling of your new superhero/villain characters.

From the private journals of Gerakken:

"And in the land down under, a growing class of mutants were resisting legislation designed to register and track them. The mutant uprising was underway in Australia and New Zealand, with mutants demanding equal rights if not the autonomy of an entirely new state."

So, did you find a way to co-exist on Earth with your normal brethren or did the mutants travel to another planet?

The mountain forest was still, this particular winter day. Birdcalls echoed through the wood as the mighty trees rose, like the beams of a great cathedral, to embrace the crisp cerulean sky.

A small creature ambled slowly down the worn trail, as it had done often over the last few months. The wombat paused occasionally to savour the many interesting scents, always returning to its plodding march. Suddenly, it stopped...and raised its head....

The faint melody drifted in on the breeze...hard to define at first...subtle...tantalizing...but somehow calling to the wombat; asking it to follow the sound.

Perplexed, the wombat could not truly identify the source or exact nature of the sound, although somehow, he knew that he must follow. Mingling with the music, the wombat sensed a whisper, a promise...

....something wonderful is going to happen....

Ah, my clever,little, furry friend. I have tracked you down at last. I'm a little late, but I have half an eye on the State of Origin game. I shall contribute soon!

Mrs. Pax arrived at the Freedom Force headquarters. It didn’t look like much, but she knew that if she could reclaim her credit card she could make it look really nice.

She walked in through the employee only entrance and notices a help wanted sign above the bar. Mrs. Pax had been a bartender all through college and still picked up a shift once in a while for fun. She also noticed Drop Bear's holo in the Officer's Gallery and had an idea.

She inquired about the position and was ushered in to see Wild Wombat. After mixing him 6 or 7 drinks, Wild Wombat was happy to offer her the position.

Later that evening the Freedom Force bar is hopping. Drop Bear walks in and is happy to see a rollicking party. During the construction of the Freedom Force Headquarters the bar was a prominent feature, and Drop Bear was pleased at just how well it had come out.

Drop Bear walked up to the bar, full of anticipation at his first drink only to have his eyes widen as he sees Mrs. Pax. When he tried to order a beer, she slapped his paw and told him ‘You’re cut off, Drop Bear.’

Drop Bear stammers, ‘But, I haven’t even had a drink yet.’
Mrs. Pax eyes narrow as she says “I can smell the booze on you from here, and if you don’t stop I’ll need the keys to your corvette.’

Drop Bear looks around the room in desperation and he grabs Wild Wombat.
‘This is CypherPax’s wife. How did she get in here?’
Wild Wombat shrugs,
‘She’s cute and we needed a bartender.’
Drop Bear asks ‘Can we just get rid of her?’

Before he can give a response two huge Rent-A-Drendin bouncers throw Drop Bear up against the bar and take the keys to his corvette.

Drop Bear looks up pleadingly at Mrs. Pax. Mrs. Pax she says, ‘You shouldn’t have messed with my credit card. It doesn’t feel good to have your favorite thing taken away, now does it? Here’s your beer – and she tosses it on Drop Bear’s face.’

Drop bear then proceeds to fire Mrs. Pax on the spot. Mrs. Pax leaves with a smirk. Remarkably, every women in the place witnesses Drop Bear’s tirade and simultaneously remark, ‘Jerk.’

Drop Bear sighs and thinks that he’ll leave Mrs. Pax alone in the future…
Wild Wombat comes up behind him and says,
'That's funny, I didn't hire those Drendin...'

Mrs. Pax had managed to keep the keys to Drop Bear's corvette. She knew that the credit card company would take the corvette in exchange for her bills. People know intuitively that credit card companies are run by pirates, what they typically don't realize is that those pirates are affliated with G.R.O.S.S. There would be no problem swapping a corvette for her balance.

Wooohoooo!!! WTG Mrs. Pax.!!!!

Part 1
The man stood at the edge of the overhang looking down a large drop. He cursed softly cracking his sun dried lips. Tasting the blood with his tongue he surveyed the horizon with a practiced eye. A bird of prey just over two meters from wing tip to wing tip was diving down behind some low hills. Guessing a road train had ploughed over a roo from the dust cloud still in evidence the man wished the scavenger all the luck in the world. Once the wedge tail eagle landed on the strip of bitumen and gorged itself it was going to have problems taking off again.
Cursing again he pulled a map out and studied it. Two circles and a line snaking through the landscape connected the Bungle Bungles to Geikie Gorge. Local dream time legends told of the story of a tribal journey along the path he was attempting to follow. The legend told that when one of the 5 elders never woke from the night dream all who wish to join the elders circle would follow the trail and one would be chosen.
The path on the map was also marked with two cross. The first being a mine which had been closed for the last 5 years and the other was a sacred site being fought over by locals, politicians and land owners. For some reason the local native tribe wasn’t entering the debate.
A rumble of thunder cut across his musings, Flicking his eyes to the north west he was surprised to see cloud formations blocking out a third of the sky.
“Shit that was quick. Better hot foot it to the mine. Looks like a savage night”


The lightning left a glowing blur image across the man’s eyes as he finally found the mine. He could hear the heavy rain pounding the ground behind him. He felt like he was being herded forward.
“Weird. No buildings or slag heap. Not a gold mine then?” his anxiety caused the man to talk aloud. “Just my luck, Another night on the rocks” he swore as he scampered for the mine entrance. Stepping across the thresh hold his skin prickled. Looking at his arm he could see his hairs standing straight out from his arm.
“oh shit oh shit” he mumbled heading for the rock face at the back of the mine.
One mighty crash of thunder deafened him as the entrance of the mine was struck three times. The man had no time to swear as he felt hot of stone chips break through his cloths and skin. In front of him he could see his shadow as he had never seen it before. It was as if his skeletal structure was being drawn onto the rock face. All went black.

Part 2
“Hey mate, you awake yet?” a distance voice call the man.
“ummmmmm” grasp the man
“Good. You right stuff. You live.” Closer the voice was
“Kill the Yoda impression. What right stuff?” he groaned as the world tumbled around him.
“Hey bloke. I know no Yoda. You live cause you walk the edge” came the cryptic reply
“Edge?” again the man question his sanity.
“Yeah man. You be Judge. You know white, you know black, you know grey, land fight sky, sky fight water, water fight land, you know three, you are three, you be three”
“What sort of dribble was that? I be three, you be loony”
“Not dribble closed minded, know it all, smart mouth white man. You must open eyes, then open mind, then open arms. You different from other walkers. You bring more and you bring less to the edge. More you question is good. Less you understand answer is bad. Eyes must open and see three truths. Mind must open and understand three dreams spaces. Arms open and use the three, for balance between all”
“Oh for geezes sake will you shut up and let me go back to sleep.”
“No man, Sleep bad must open eyes”warned the voice
“Eyes are open.. OK”
“No bloke, wrong. Colour of sky now. Tell me quick”
The man looked at the sky but saw nothing. Just a greying of nothing. He sat up rubbed his eyes and looked again and fell back in dumb amazement.
“Wha wha wha wha.. oh bugger. I want my mum. Can I wake up now please?” he gasped
What he saw was galaxy after galaxy being created one after another and being flung in all directions. As different size star clusters flew away he saw seeds of life flicker and die, flicker and survive, flicker and succeed. Great machines of war and piece being built and used.
He looked at his guide and his education begun with the words
“Just call me grasshopper sir”

Part 3
“You are ready if ever” the fateful words came from the guide
“Not an energizer?” the man quipped
“Your humour I never get”
The man sighed “I noticed. Ready for the multiverse you mean?”
“Yes but called the Metaverse it is. You go now. But remember transition shock”
“Yes I will be three, Me myself and I?” a smiled graced the mans lips
The guide looked blank , “More humour?”
“Yeah.” Stoney silence from the guide. ”OK OK. Yes I will be three. Man Animal and Spirit. You know that is so close to religion doctrine that it is scary”
Ignoring the last statement the guide points up. “Go. Go dream the three well.”
The man steps towards a pool of liquid and at the first touch of the unmoving liquid he is transported.

A scream of agony escapes the man and three words follow each other through his mind. {mindbateldermindbatelder}
“I am man” he screams once
“I am bat” he screams again
“I am elder” he screams a third time
Silence
“We are BAKKA” sounds three voices at once in coherence
“I am Bakka” Is heard as one conscience is formed from the three. “oh shit oh shit oh shit I’m going starkers”
A bat takes shape and the journey begins.

Part 4
“Right said Fred!” tap tap. Bakka looks around and raises an bat eyebrow higher than a Vulcan could ever at a small ghost standing on his bat wing. ”What?”
“Your name is Bakka” whispered the ghost.
“Yes but the song goes “Right said Fred!—so go away Mr smarty pants see through it all”.
Tap tap. Bakka looks over his other wing and sees a small human shape sitting on his shoulder. ”Yeees?. You thirsty again?” The human nods. ”Look dimwit. Stocks are low so we have to ration for a while.” The small shape grasps his neck in fake distress. “Yes a carton a day will have to do for a while. Drink slower will yeah!”
The little shape pantomimed a knife going through his throat. “What you want more of that ‘orrid rum stuff from that dark ship with nice bright colours inside?. Or you want some of that mead stuff from the quaint little inn?” By this stage the little shape was throwing a tantrum to out shine any two year old effort.
The Ghost pipes up. “Well why don’t we get to new HQ quickly and get new stocks”
“Cause we got to time it just right. To early and we will be appointed sacred keeper of the beer store. Too late and we will miss the second closest room to the beer store. Now midnight beer raids are easier as a keeper but it also means you got to stop others from doing the same. Ok?” explained Bakka

Final
“Ok my little spirit chums” quivered Bakka,” This is going to be close. Last six pack left and little distance to go”
Bakka flipped the lids on the stubbies, downs them in quick order and scoots off for the new Freedom Force HQ

Drop Bear and Wild Wombat meet Bakka at the door and reunion of back slaps are passed all around. The wild woolly one manages to get a “kick me” sign to stick to Drop Bears back. The place is a mess and Drop Bear bottom lip dragging a little
"G'day mates" cried Bakka. "I be back, all three of me. How Fuzzy what's with his nibs?"
Wild Wombat draws a deep breath, ”Now Bakka, don't tease him, but his Corvette got stolen"
Bakka grins at Drop Bear "Don't you worry about that old rust bucket. The brakes was about to go because the Phasers needed to be realignment through the warp core to balance the hull plate sheilding because of the surf board mountings. I was going to get you a new Phoenix any way"

Wild Wombats Nods his approval and starts his entry speech "This is Freedom Force’s HQ and as a super powered folk we gotta know what powers you bring to the Metaverse fray”
“Well I not going to tell you all first off. But to start with I have, Bakka’s Burp of Bravery”
“Of bravery?” quieries Drop Bear
“Well any basterd that surveys the first one is damn brave to stand still and take a second hit” Bakka explains with a evil grin
“Um what it do Bakka?” Asks The woolly one.
“Easier to show you. Got any new recruit around? No well hmm. Wild dude stand over there. I think you will be slightly more resistance than Droppie cause he don’t drink beer much. Drop man. I need a can of your best brew.”
Drop Bear hands Bakka a can of XXXX while Wild Wombat tries to sneak away
Bakka cracks the can and not letting the beer touch the sides empties it. The wild one is now running out the door.
Bakka chants “Ready aim fire BBBBBBUUUUURRRRRRPPPPPP”
Drop bear claps his claws over his ears and madly sprinting wild one looks over his shoulder still wondering what is happerning. The sonic sound wave hits Wild wombat and picks him and flings him 20 feet away. The now mad Wombat picks himself up and is angrily dusting himself off.
Drop Bear starts to say “Not bad Bak…” but is interrupted by Bakka
“Wait for it Wait for it.”
In the distance wild Wombat is in a fury. He is stalking back towards Bakka.
10 feet away Wild Wombat stops mid step, his body stiffen up and his eye’s slowly roll upwards and he falls flat on his back.
“What the f&^%” exclaims Drop Bear.
“Well you ever smelt a morning after burp? Hmm a bit slow that one was. Never tried it with a XXXX before. “says Bakka reading the details on the can
“Well any way here I am. Where is the beer?”

Kit warrior contemplated the aftermath of his brilliant plan to drive a stake in the heart of the Anzac empire. The hidden transmorgifriar was doing its job down in the southern hemisphere. It seems Anzac soldier after Anzac soldier were turning into animals. Animals with certain human characteristics (an unintended result for sure as no one can be completely sure of what the result of such a powerful weapon will be) The effect was now permanent. The Transmorgifriar self-destructed, leaving no trace of itself back to G.R.O.S.S. But its effects were now irreversable to anyone who'd been exposed. But just then something happened that Kit did not intend. A new empire was formed by three of the muties. This new empire called itself the freedom league. Would the Anzac beasts join it? Or indeed were they too apathetic to even bother. No worries thought Kit. They needed a little shot in the arm so to speak. In fact, Kit thought, I actually did them a favor. But they'll never know what I did to.. Err for them to thank me. After all, Pontius would have done this before he went neutral. And now, I've given the hierarchy Plausable Deniability, It cannot be traced back to G.R.O.S.S. Indeed, it cannot be traced at all.

Kit listened intently to the monitor to all the new animal's creation stories. Hmmmm Good thing that mind bender device was planted in that Transmorgifrier before I took it. I wonder who put it in there last minute. Oh well he thought. I'm in the clear, no traces back to me, or G.R.O.S.S. Kit verified just to be sure that it had in fact Vaporized. All that was left where it stood was a little bent Grass. Kit raked it back up, cleaned up the site and thought, Oh if Pontius knew about this I'd get a medal. But that plausable deniability thing...I just won't be able to tell him.


Later, Back at the Survey Ship of Doom. Oh hi Kit, would you like to take the helm today? YOu know, Mrs Pax has found some curious transmissions from the Aussie's today. If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was playing with one of the transmorgifriers again. (Laughter fills the ship)

The small, feathered animal in the natty tuxedo waddled up to the building. "Freedom Force HQ, all welcome. Bar hours - unlimited" read the sign over the extra-wide doors. The penguin quacked contentedly to itself, looking forward to washing the taste of fish from his mouth with a glass (or five) of excellent Heathcote Shiraz. (Also, the prospect of sanctuary from mobs of mayhem-minded murderous marauding Drengin was half bad either!)

He knocked, a gruff, yet welcoming voice, boomed, 'come in'. He then pushed the door open and walked in; the same gruff voice continued, "shut the door mate, geez, were you born in a tent?" Hurley closed the door, saying "sorry mate, and turned to survey the room. It brought a tear to the eye. A large bar occupied the pride of position with an array of beers, even some from states other than Victoria! In corner of the bar was even a collection of excellent red wines. (Well, all red wines are excellent thought Hurley, just some more so than others.)

The crowd at the beer looked up from their various drinking implements and called, in their inimitable manner, their greetings. A glass awaited on the bar, although something that held over 1 litre of red when full was hardly a glass, but he wasn't one to quibble. (Now if he could just work out how to pick it up with his flippers...)

He waddled over; saw the drinking implement even had flipper attachments! All was well in the universe! He started into the red and waddled across to the group with Slitherin, Wild Wombat, Drop Bear and other pioneers.

Now on to some adventures.....

I need more time, I need more time...where does time go as ya get older?

Way to go!, CypherPax and bakka! And a big cheery wave to Ray and Gerakken and Pontius.

bakka, we'll have to have a Hall of Fame for our Stories in FF. We'll need to title them for ease of reference! LOL

Oh, and welcome to bakka and Hurley: inaugural members of the Freedom Force!

Ooops, forgot to also mention Bakka. Sorry.

The odd little man attempted to glance up from where They were currently sprawled. It took an intense amount of effort for some reason They couldn't understand ... apparently the booze here in this establishment was a bit above par. The voices were yammering away in strange directions almost as if they were drunk, but that couldn't be possible, could it? There were at least nine of us in here and it took entirely too much to get Us all drunk, but there seemed to be a problem with the floor.

Ok, ok, ok ... We might have a buzz, but no more. The strange talking animals were worth at least that much of an admission, but that is as far as We would go. Why are they so strident though? We had found a perfectly good place to rest for a bit, complete with a few barrels of the finest when they all came in and harped about Us being in the wrong pub.

Blah, blah, blah ... and We ain't gonna mate wit ya eider, dunno why yer keeps sayins dat.We schertainly seen Ray here not that long ago, sho jush poin Ush in that direcccshun and off We goes...

Pays Our tabsh ? Of courshe... He reaches into a pocket of his worn pink robe and come out with a handful of oddments... mostly pocket lint, but a few coins from various times and places, two fishhooks, a tangle of twine, some gum (mildly chewed), a 6 carat emerald (uncut of course), and several jacks (but no ball). We may be back another timesh, the alesh here is schplendidsss.

With a sweep somewhere between a bow and a curtsey he stumbles out and trips, but whe the patrons go out to see what happened to him, he is nowhere to be seen...

A Fellowship in Action

Fellowship Halls were unusually empty these days. Ray had recruited some excellent minds and able bodies for the task of protecting the surrounding lands. At the beginning, the initiates were greeted by the entire Fellowship. Long exchanges were frequent as the guest and the members of fellowship sized each other up. Lately the Fellowship was busy training to maintain strength comparable to the large empires on its borders. New recruits joined barely without a greeting and hastened to their assignments shortly thereafter.

Most members left for their training ground at the break of dawn and returned after dusk. Some members were given missions to tour the surrounding empires for a show of strength and a guise for espionage. Ray left for the White City to challenge prominent warriors for the title of the most powerful in Meta. Passing travelers at the Prancing Pony have said that the Fellowship packs a mean punch for its size. Certainly if anyone thought that the Fellowship could be trifled with, they kept that thought to themselves.

The Fellowship received its newest recruit. Gengsta walked down the east tower to greet the man. The new recruit was Michael Casey, an expert trainer of men and famous for his monthly challenges. Gengsta had just completed the latest challenge and acquired several new skills, one of which was pounding an enemy with the staff until they became submissive enough to ally. Gengsta wanted to learn more from Michael's challenges, but there was a touring assignment awaiting him. With an exchange of greetings, Gengsta took leave and headed out the door.

The Assignment

Gengsta headed south along the Ancient Animal Avenue. His first destination was the Land of the Southern Cross. Ray had ordered an immediate dispatch to that empire because there seemed to be trouble brewing. Hush whispers and unbelievable rumors from the pirates indicated several citizens were seeking to 'mutiny' and to form their own empire. Gengsta expected something entirely different.

Most visitors to the Land of the Southern Cross characterized the citizens there as noble creatures. Gengsta had heard many peoples described with such words. The strange thing about the these citizens was that there was as much emphasis on 'noble' as on 'creatures'. What were these citizens, animals?

A Land of Change

When Gengsta finally arrived at Land of the Southern Cross - actually I shouldn't say finally; wizards have the ability to walk very quickly - he noticed a small furry creature watching him from the trees. According to his knowlegde of animal lore, this particular furry animal looked like a koala. The difference was that its seedy green eyes betrayed an inkling of intelligence and its unkept furry hair emitted a noxious odor of beer and feces. Gengsta covered up his nose and continued towards the capitol. He didn't have any time to waste on some disgusting little tree dweller.

The koala followed Gengsta towards the capitol, easily keeping up with the wizard's quick gait. Of course, the creature accomplished this feat with little or no consideration for stealth. The occassional voracious munching of eucalyptus leaves and the overpowering stench were dead giveaways to its presence. As Gengsta neared the gates of the capitol, the creature picked up its pace, jumping from one tree to the next in rapid succession. When Gengsta arrived at the gates, the koala was waiting for him and unlatched the entrance without a word.

Gengsta nodded to the koala in recognition of its services and proceeded to the long hallway. There he was greated by a stockly little bearlike animal. Again drawing from his knowledge of animal lore, Gengsta identified the creature as a wombat - maybe the rumors of sentient animals in the Land of the Southern Cross were true. The wombat wordlessly lead Gengsta to the second gate where a human finally appeared and welcomed him to the capitol.

"Welcome to the headquarters of ANZACs. I am Slitherin, the guard of the inner halls. Except for a few characters, our halls have been very quiet, so you may not find the one to answer your questions."

With that Sliterin lead Gengsta down the long winding hallways, up, down, around, in circles, zig-zagging until finally the tunnels emptied into a large cavenous room filled with interesting topological features. The entire room was about 350 yards long and 100 yards wide. The ceiling was about 100 yard up and there were many large holes that spilled sunlight across everything. In the center of the room, 100 yards away, there was a huge artificial ditch spanning the entire width of the room. The ditch was 17 yards wide. The depth of the ditch was difficult to determine since the contained quite a bit of water. At the center, a small wooden bridge crossed over the ditch, and on top of this bridge sat a large regal throne. In the throne sat an old man with quite a few warts. From the opening of the tunnel to the bridge, there was a barren gravel path about three yards wide. On both sides of the path, the terrain was very different. Most of the room to both sides was a grassy mead, and there were hundreds of sheep rat-packed into the confined area. Occassionally large rocky masses rose as much as twenty feet over the grass and made it impossible to walk.

The terrain on the other side of the ditch was drastically different. Most of the room was a barren dirt, but the patches closest to the ditch spawned very lush vegetation and dense eucalyptus trees. Many of the trees harbored koalas, but most of them were sleeping the day off and could not be seen. Beyond the large area of barren dirt, on the wall at the back of the room, there were fourty large leathery pouches - large enough to hold a full grown man. Gengsta was about to walk up to the old man at the center when Slitherin grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"The Emperor no longer speaks. We are not clear whether he hears, either. If you have any questions, feel free to ask the citizens around here. Wander around and you should find them working dilligently in the various parts of the room. Everyone is busy, so I am afraid we cannot entertain you continuously. I must return to my post, now."

The man walked back to the tunnels and left Gengsta alone in the large room. What the man had said was very true. The Emperor sitting in the regal throne had fallen mute and showed no signs of hearing the sounds reverberating around him. Gengsta wondered who was making the ANZAC capitol run since the Emperor seemed to have absolved himself of all responsibility at this point. His gaze fell upon two little creatures and a man at the back of the room next to the large pouches. He walked over to see what they were discussing and planning. When Gengsta neared the three creatures, he recognized two of them as the koala and the wombat. The man was unfamiliar to Gengsta but he would soon find out his identity.

"So what is our plan?" asked the man.
"We are going to return to these pouches and become superheroes."
"You are sure this works right?"
"As sure as I am a wombat."
"Ok, then I, Bakka will do this."
"Alright we have to pick superheroes."
"I want to be a fireman, Wild Wombat."
"Just remember to give yourself super powers. Drop Bear, what are you going to be?"
"Actually I change my mind, but I know what I want to be!"
"And you?"
"I want to be a koala!"
"You are a koala."
"Then, I want to be koala feces. I'll set off the pirates' feces detector every single time."
"You already do. You stink like no other."

At this the Drop Bear started to cry and showered the other two with his tears. During his many exploits into pirate territory, Drop Bear had gotten use to appearing cute and cuddly in front of all the pirate ladies. It had become a tool that he could use to get his way and it was very reliable - at least when there were ladies around.

"Hey, hey! Get back to business here. And stop crying, you big baby!"
"Anybody have an idea for our name."
"I thought we already decided this."
"Yeah, we decided on Dropping Bear Bottles."
"Stop it, Drop Bear. We decided on Freedom Force."
"Yeah, you decided on that. We only agreed."
"I'm going to be wombat, a super wombat."
'Since we are all set, let's transform."
"You mean climb back into our pouch and suck on a teet for seven months?"
"Exactly! Although it should take more than seven hours."
"What! I want seven month!"
"Get in, Drop Bear."

This was certainly an interesting phenomenon. Gengsta stayed by the pouches watching and waiting for the seven hours necessary or complete transformation. Sure enough, seven hours after climbing into their pouches, the three characters were ejected back out. Gengsta noticed nothing different about the characters. They looked the same as they before. Drop Bears was more cute than ever. Wild Wombat had more rage in his eyes than before. And Bakka gained the air of a superhero but not much else. Ray would be pleased to hear this news. The citizens of the Land of the Southern Cross were 'transforming' themselves by entering the pouches but they were not being corrupted by any dark powers or threatening to wield the dark arts.

To his surprise, the three superheroes darted with lightning quickness out of the room and yelled a tremoring "Freedom Force!" through the halls. Maybe the superheroes shouldn't be trifled with after all, but Gengsta had finished inspecting the Land of the Southern Cross and headed over to his next destination, the pirate cove of GROsS bay and his mission was to determine the identity of the GROSS spymaster and the size of his information gathering network.

An old joke but a good one for our pirate 'friends'

The Pirate

One day a Pirate and a bartender were talking to each other in a bar. The Bartender asked the pirate "Where did ya get that peg leg from?"

The Pirate responded " We were sailing the seas when a big ol' shark came up to me while I was swimmin' and bit off me leg."

Later the Bartender asked "Where did you get that hook then?"

The pirate responded "Well, me crew and I were in a battle and it got cut through the bone."

The bartender then asked " Then where did ya get the eye patch from?"

The pirate said " In a harbor I looked at a gull flying over head and it took a dump right in me eye."

The bartender was puzzled and asked the pirate, "How would that make you get an eye patch?"

The pirate responded, "First day with the hook."

Great stuff everyone! Thanks for the good wishes (and good stories) from other empires too - I can see Freedom Force is going to attract some great tales of adventure. And don't worry....we'll be paying YOU a visit when our transformations are complete... LOL

A Day in the Life of Pontius

Ship of Doom, 1830 hours

Pontius was depressed.

He looked around the meeting with disinterest. The monthly Ship of Doom Hygiene Committee meeting had dragged on for a couple of hours, and was no closer to resolution of agenda item 1.
“Why! Why! Why!” shouted EBZM, his voice cracking on the last statement. “I see absolutely no reason for baths every month. We are pirates, not bloody princesses”. Stealthfrequency nodded in agreement. Gerakken sighed: “But my agents report that the Europeans have baths every week! Why even the simple farmers shower every fortnight!” The meeting dragged on.

Yet Pontius’ day had started well enough.

Ship of Doom, 0600 hours

“La, la, la. It’s a gold, gold morning. La, la, la, la, la.”

Perplexed and curious, Sinbad the tom poked his head around the bathroom door. Daddy was way too happy. Yet, Sinbad instinctively knew that a happy daddy was a generous daddy. Extra kibble and perhaps a saucer of cream. Sinbad sat down to wait with some expectation.

Ship of Doom, 0630 hours

Pontius slumped in his chair.

The results were in. He tapped his PC screen, but nothing changed. Not gold, not silver, but bronze! His gold morning had become ashes in his mouth. He gritted his teeth. He knew he had to send a congratulatory message to Staffa (again!) and as for Ray, he hated having to eat his words. They stuck. He started the congratulatory message with some asperity.
Pontius began to turn as Mrs Pilot swept into the den with her new friend. “Don’t mind us, Ponshie”, said Mrs Pilot with a wave of her fierce hand. “Go back to your nerdy mates”. Pontius tried to continue typing his congratulatory message, with an ear cocked.

Ship of Doom, 0700 hours

Pontius was dismayed. He sipped his coffee in the kitchen and re-read the financial pages of the Daily Pirate Chronicle. The Ship of Doom shares had fallen again. He felt the burden of being Captain of the Ship of Doom. Indeed, he could almost feel the eyes of the angry shareholders on him. It was an eerie sensation. His toast started to burn.

Ship of Doom, 0701 hours

Sinbad’s tail flicked from side to side. His wait by the kitchen food bowls had been fruitless. Still, not one to give up easily, he settled down for a long, hard, baleful stare at his dismayed father.

Ship of Doom, 1100 hours

The auditor was furious.

“I have not enjoyed this audit and I shall be lodging an immediate complaint with the G.R.O.S.S. Society of Accountants. I found your brig to be cold and distasteful. And I repeat, I am not this Dropbear character you pirates keep accusing me of being! This will have repercussions!”
The auditor stormed from the Captain’s office. “But I shall certainly buy this Dropbear person a beer should I ever meet him”, the auditor yelled back at Pontius, as he left.

Ship of Doom, 1300 hours

The ‘Sun King in the French Court’ R&R had not gone well.

It started when KitWarrior snickered, and went bad from there. KitWarrior had to keep explaining to the pirates, which killed the moment. Gerakken had hammed it up somewhat. Peggy-Sue had chased the Cardinal the whole time, and he hadn’t even noticed. And Pontius had been wearing his lucky powdered wig as well!

Ship of Doom, 1330 hours

Pontius looked around his den with dismay.

Mrs Pilot and Bruce had settled on bronze and lilac, with chartreuse trim and faux fur. He hated it. The iMac was pretty but Pontius couldn’t find the start button. He held back the tears, because he was after all, a brave pirate. Pontius slouched from the den to get his lunch.

Ship of Doom, 1331 hours

In the TV room, Mrs Pilot waved Pontius away with a fierce hand. “Go and do something useful Pookie. I’m watching my stories”.

G.R.O.S.S. Cooperative Building Society Bank, 1400 hours

Young Jimmie looked at the Captain with some consternation.

“Gosh Mr Pilot, I may have to get the manager.” Jimmie wrung his hands again. “It looks like the Ship of Doom savings account has a Stop put on it.” Jimmie moved towards the manager’s office, apologetically. Yet curiosity got the better of him. He turned and asked: “And, ah, Captain. What character does my Peggy-Sue play in ‘The Wizard of Oz’?” For the first time, words failed Pontius.

Ship of Doom, 1420 hours

Pontius chased CypherPax from his Captain’s office closet. CypherPax had been hiding again. Pontius shook his head. Cypher was a good pirate, Pontius thought, and yet seemed to be under the thumb a bit too much. Pontius was looking forward to his South Sea Island R&R after his afternoon tea break.

Ship of Doom, 1530 hours

Pontius listlessly watched as the South Sea Island girls followed the Spymaster down the beach. The Spymaster was collecting shells. ‘But this is my fantasy’ he thought. The charms of the new holodeck were wearing thin. He realised that he could not invite Gerakken to his R&R ever again.

Dr Quinn's consulting rooms, 1620 hours

Dr Quinn snorted derisively. “There’s nothing wrong with you Captain. Now I have my next patient to see. And Captain…” Pontius paused at the medicine room door. “Stiff upper lip, eh”.
Dr Quinn shook her head. She checked her patient’s list. ‘Oh thank heavens’ she thought, ‘that adorable bear is next’. She reached into her drawer for a piece of delicious chocolate.

Ship of Doom, 1930 hours

The long working day was at an end. Pontius put his head in his hands. The short, stormy meeting with the Don’t Ruin Our Survey Ship delegation had given him a headache. He toyed with the idea of going to see Dr Quinn again, but quickly discarded the notion. Pontius glanced at the delegation’s list of complaints, starting with the mismatched colours of the ship’s patched hull. He saw a job for KitWarrior, who had a better grasp of colour schemes than did Pontius. Not for the first time he wondered whether Kit was artistic. He hoped not: there was no room for artsy pirates on his ship!

Ship of Doom, 0200 hours

The Deep Space Nine episode finally ended.
Not for the first time, Pontius wished he was a shapechanger. He slouched to bed. And stopped in amazement. His beloved PC was set up in the marital bedroom on the solid mahogany desk. Mrs Pilot put down her Marie Claire and beamed at Pontius. “I can’t stand to see you sad Pookie. This way you can play your games and talk to your mates, and still share quality time with me! Now come to bed you tiger, grrrrowwwl”.

The Captain’s day ended well after all.

The Freedom Force Avatar, 0201 hours

Dropbear and Wombie turned off the space-time continuum machine and grinned at each other, pleased with their generosity. ‘There is yet some good in Dropbear’ thought the wombat warmly.

“Now Dropie, where did I put my Carlton Cold?” asked wombie.

[Message Edited]
[Message Edited]

Drop Bear I kowtow in your direction! I clap my flippers in admiration That is just awesome!!

just letting you know that i have swapped over, i haven't had access to the net for a few days and also been busy with TAFE.

The wombat followed the sound of the strange music to the mouth of a cave, just off the the track through the forest. Although he had been this way many times, he had never seen the cave before. He padded slowly up to the mouth of the cave, sniffing nervously, sensing danger.

The music intensified...drawing him onwards.

The inside of the cave was dry and warm, not at all as he expected. The walls glowed with coloured light, as if all the precious gems and metals of the world were on display.

"Well, that was a magnificent waste of time. And there's not even food."

No.

The voice reverberated around the chamber. The wombat shuffled around anxiously, looking for the speaker. "Why am I here?"

You have long been under my eye. Your mastery of the beasts of the earth is well known, but you have followed something else today.

You can hear the music of the spheres. That is what has drawn you here. And you are ready to take the next step.

The music suddenly intensified, somehow infusing itself into the wombat's very essence. The colours on the walls changed and clashed and sparkled around him, reminding him a little of that psychedelic scene in 2001: A Space Odyssey with better music. The colours seemed to leap off the very walls and fling themselves at the wombat...

You are a wild, wild wombat, and hear the music of the spheres....

The wombat passed into darkness for a great length of time.....

And on a more serious note - good to have you aboard, ajm37!

I've got a real problem - since I changed my nick - I CAN'T SUBMIT SCORES!

Heelllllppppp!!! Anyone run into this before? Tried on new and old nick - NO SUCCESS.

Wild one.
The tecnological marvel you have installed in HQ has intercepted message from afar.
It tells the secret of nick name and player name. You have changed your Forum nickname. Your player name is still Space wombat.
Submit again as Space wombat and it should still work.

Have I understood the secret correctly?

bakka is correct. Submissions must be made to your player name.

However, players are having problems rescuing their previous games submitted under another name. This state of affair could have been alluded to in the Metaverse guidelines given by T-Man where he said games cannot be resubmitted under another player name.

Sorry Wombat, I should have posted my warning earlier.
:notsure:

Maybe you can try to see if T-Man would change your submission's playername for you. I know he did that for some folks previously but problem is that he is not really around nowadays.