The Syllvatian Game (Sroot)

by **BurdenKing** Mon Nov 03, 2014 12:03 am

Act 1: Jacking In

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Planet_by_metaknightfan-d84awnx_zps9e83e250

Somewhere in....someplace, we come across a world whose name is actually quite well remembered. However, you and i seem to have forgotten the name of this world. We will have to try and remember it.

=====> Enter name:-------------------

You enter something along the lines of what would have likely read out "Shitty Dump Land", and are quickly reprimanded by a very threatening rolled up news paper. We will not have any more of that, now will we?

Now, let's try that again. Try and Remember it.

=====> Enter name: Syllvatia

You have entered the name: Syllvatia. Which just so happens to be its actual name, well done. Now then, let us begin.

This is the planet Syllvatia, home of the mandrakes, a humanoid race of plants that come in all shapes in sizes. Each mandrake is born unique, each one gaining a gift from the God Father of the Beginning himself. Each mandrake also receives an ultimate destiny from the Goddess of the end herself, which always includes their purpose in life and the way they will die. Of course, in the modern day mandrake world, no one believe sin such archaic ideas such as the god and goddess. There are many other religions to choose from, and the religion of the "Great Saga" is no more then a foot note in history for most.

One such outlet for religious thought is the "Guild of Abyss", a popular religion in the golden desert wastes of Syllvatia with the many nomadic and agrarian tribes, although the guild can be found most anywhere on the planet it is focused in the deserts where the lack of things is high. No matter where a person hails from however, all fear the blades of the Guilds elite order of assassins, and also almost all seek them out for their skills.

On the other side of these rogues are the brave Cowboy Knight of the chivalrous order of the "Champion Sheriffs". These warriors ride across the planet, searching for evil to slay, wrongs to right, and a herd of Dragon-Bears, or Bear-dragons by most scholars, to eradicate. Noble and strong, they are the perfect counter point for the Abyss assassins.

No matter the religious view points one has, what every Mandrake can finds themselves sharing opinions on is the high council of ten, a group of the oldest and wisest Mandrake son the planet, who either have the best for Syllvatia at heart, or see it as a way to make a quick buck, depending on who you ask. They hold the keys to the kingdom, that is, if the key was broken into 10 different pieces they did. As you can imagine not much gets done. There is even rumor of a rebellion approaching that may or may not occur sooner or later. It's all mysterious and not very substantial, but it could totally maybe happen!

However, none of that is important, at least the whole religious and governmental thing. No what really matters, above all else, is a solitary group who stand on the very edge of time. A group who are about to take the plunge in the most daring and possibly exciting thing one could possibly imagine. A group whose very actions on this day will shapes the very- fuck it you know what I can't do this. These are just a bunch of asshole kids about to play a game. Who the hell wrote this, and whose idea was it to make it sound so important. Somebody call my agent and have them sue this place!

anyways, since I'm already getting paid, might as well press on. Now, where was I in this pile of shit.......oh yes, lying out my ass. Anyways, this group shall embark on an adventure that will change their lives, and it will all start with one of them. and that one person is, with out any hesitation or drum roll to accompany him is......a man with the utmost style and grace, whose very presence wilts the flowers out of shame for their inadequacy......a man who can turn the blind eyes of the crippled to gaze upon his beauty.....is.......Me, of course.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Tumblr_mzqe4pZZRx1rtvfwgo3_500

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Tumblr_mzqe4pZZRx1rtvfwgo3_500

What? Did you expect me to waste your time on some barely sprouted children, and force you to go without meeting the true star of this story? What kind of host do you take me for? Honestly, I'm half tempted to just let you go and waste your time with the children, but of course you would only plead for my forgiveness, and of course I would accept. After all, what kind of host do you take me for?

Now then, As I'm sure you're aware, as the star of this little production, I must keep my appearance as brief as possible. So, while I have you I can only say this. Move on now, you saw the best part and can go home happy. What kind of host would I be if i forced you to stay for the worst part of the show after seeing what equates to Shakespeare's masterpiece....Well, stating a specific one would discredit the man, as nothing he wrote could stand up to my presence of course, what kind of host do you take me for?

You'll stay? Really? I must say your commitment is rather endearing, despite the stupidity. What sort of host would I be to deny my guest however. So, without further ado, let us look upon the first child.

Posting Order:

by **Meta Knight Fan** Mon Nov 03, 2014 11:25 am

by **V.M.P.** Tue Nov 04, 2014 3:34 pm

==>be someone more COLORFUL

You are now WILLOV ILLVOW. a mandrake with far too much smartness to deal with name tomfoolery, and indeed, you are MUCH more colorful than that pink bitch, infact, you are gonna tell that ass that right now!

You saunter over to your computer slowly, taking your time to spread out your branches with each and every step, centering your chi, whatever that means. You mostly do this because you think you look cool, and partially because it may push you forward in your goal of becoming a space samurai.

That's right, you admit to it, commit to it, and show off your fascination with space samurai, along with a whole slew of other nerdtastic creations. So high, is your nerd level, that you have contructed a face mounted laser from star treek, own more fedora's than anime mafia dons(over 9000), and to top it off, you grew out your long rainbow dyed hair for the sole purpose of draping it over your face in the from of a wizard beard when it isn't in a neat pony tail.

==> HURRY THE HELL UP.

alright alright, you finally reached your computer, and you start messaging the pink bitch with spiteful intent. You would like to name such behavior, "trelling."

by Guest Tue Nov 04, 2014 5:47 pm

Elsewhere on Syllvatia

A lone foy fidgets in a soft cushy brown beanbag until he feels entirely comfy. Upon this achievement he breaks out his treetop and sets the closed interweb surfing device on his lap he flips the smooth screen up into sight and stretches his arms toward the sun. The light green skin is accented by the engraved grave memory of something that happened not so long ago, but it's whatever. Things are okay. In fact, they're even better than they were before. Something about what happened just left him feeling refreshed. Besides, the past is the past. It's time to move forward and press on.

He pops in one of the new DVDs he picked up before he got back to his home, excited to see the bonus unaired episode of "'Till we have braces" included with the whole seventh season set. Entertainment happens to be his main time killer when he spends his isolated nights and his interest sometimes accompanies him outside the dwelling. The wallpaper of his room is plastered with fold out posters from magazines and the like. He sinks further into the chair while waiting for the episode to start. He's sure he left his Trellian online.

by **Reiss** Wed Nov 05, 2014 12:22 am

==> Be someone that makes the first two look not-nerdy

Cedar, a teenage Foy of moderately impressive stature sits in his totally unimpressive room. He his currently bent over his computers further then seems proper for whatever tree's have for spines. On his bark-covered device is a screen depicting many cards. Many cards. And the scroll bar is so tiny that its impossible to click on. Cedar Cadre doesn't mind that much though, because mouse wheels are far superior to any other form of scrolling.

The program was the interface for a unpopular online card game very few people enjoyed. Its overly complex rules and ugly interface saw to that. But for those who got past its intense, crippling flaws could see into the wonderful world of Friend Battle Vanjard. Your new grey-purple Dragon-planet Touchmykaze deck is a work of art, and there is only one friend who could possibly appreciate it.

==> Message the other loser

by **Animefreak369** Fri Nov 07, 2014 2:05 am

=> Be the average one
Your name is Pando Danpo and you are one average fellow. other than your UNEXPLAINABLE SWAG and your amazing skill at CHILDRENS CARD GAMES you are completely unremarkable
as you sit sifting through your spoils from the last tournament you won you here a beep from your laptop
=> Check who is trelling you

Example Name is now Trelling AtlusRadix
EN: Hey!
AtlusRadix is now Trelling Example Name
AR: Yo.
EN: Ready to see my new glorious masterpiece? I won't even be able to stream this battle because Tritch won't allow rape.
AR: Sure. Send that trash my way nerd.
EN: Oh no no no. This time you're going to have to fight my deck without seeing it first. Pretty sure that might be whats been giving you an advantage...
AR: I don't think i need an advantage to beat you. :/
EN: Fine, Jack In then and we'll see how this shit throws down.
EN: Looks like I got first turn. Your defeat is certain!
AR: If you say so... FIGHT ON, CHARGE AND DRAW.
EN: I DON'T charge. My hand is already unbeatable. Now... that'll be a third of your life on turn one, courtesy of Quantum Dragon Steel Blade Dragon via Superior Calling. Both those cards together cost more then my computer setup, and for good reason.
AR: You're doing better than usual. I guess even if you give a shrub a good deck they cand at least do somthing. I dont charge and I Call my Ion Storm Aqua Goddess and end my turn.
EN: Charge and draw. And by the way, Ion Storm Aqua Goddess just rose in price for some unexplainable reason, so if you want to sell your trash card after I wipe it off the map with Heavenly Genocide next turn, you're welcome to.
AR: Well the reason it rose in price is because I developed a one hit win combo, it goes like this. I charge, Advance Call Priestess of the Storm and combo call Ion Acolyte, using their abilitys I sack them to boost Ion Storm Aqua Goddess's power to just enough to one shot you, But using Ion Storm Aqua Goddess's ability If her power is 3 times her base power or more I can also negate your ability to use your LAST CHANCE cards. Game over. You are getting better at least.
EN: HA! I was prepared for this. All I have to do is use up two gauge to play Unbreakable Quantum Wall!
EN: Why is it not activating?
EN: Why do I only have one gauge? Its turn two, I've charged twice, right?
EN: ...
EN: BG
AR: Well. If you feel like losing some more feel free to hit me up. But its fine, at least you tried.
EN: So... Two Headed Ettin at the draft tonight?
AR: Nah I am tired of spending all my time beating the shrubs at Cloudy Games. Plus I still have to finish sifting through all the prizes from the last time I placed first.
EN: Well without you there I'll stand a shot at least. Later, nerd.
Example Name has stopped Trelling AtlusRadix

beating your best friend at every time you play card games isn't fun but how is he going to get better?

by **poisonFanatic** Fri Nov 07, 2014 2:13 pm

Meanwhile, in the beautiful southern plains of Syllvatia, a young mandrake is waking from a routine beauty nap. She's been fiddling profusely with her leaves; straightening them out in the warm light of the Syllvatian sun. Before we continue, perhaps we should give the firl a name?

=====> Knowitall Buttstank.

She appears unimpressed with your childish attempt of demeaning her. However, it isn't too late to regain her favor. Obviously someone of such superior morals wouldn't allow herself to be diluted by petty grudges.

=====> Avera Aevar.

Your name is AVERA AEVAR and you are a self proclaimed CRYPTOGRAPHY GENUIS. You have a passion for BOGUS RIDDLES, and often find yourself spending hours at a time deciding on the perfect combination of words to retrieve items from your sylladex. You adore SCENTED CANDLES and have a collection lining your shelves. Though, of course they are never lit because you are not an idiot and don't have a fucking death wish. But you still like to sniff them occasionally. Mostly you like to think that collecting NICE THINGS makes you a nicer person. There is nothing more important to you than being helpful and kind. Well, except being called helpful and kind. Repeatedly. Forever. Man, you know you're kind, you can just feel it in you super kind bones.

What will you do?

>Avera: Make yourself beautiful.

You apply your useful makeup set, making yourself as aesthetically pleasing as an intelligent young tree surgeon should be. Not that you're shallow or anything; you just think you should always look your best! Who are you kidding? You can be pretty shallow sometimes. While your at it, you change into a casual dress. Yes, that ought to do it; now you're really starting to look the part. Now you can get an early start on reading those cryptography books you ordered! Though, perhaps you should open up your computer first.

>Avera: Sign onto Trellian.

[ES] eruditeSuccour is now online.

by **Damnationsedge** Sat Nov 08, 2014 4:29 pm

Now, be the lonely one.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Post1_zps6c544722

On the eastern shoreline a young Mandrake is lounging around the small home inside a rock formation surrounded by sand and tide pools. Clearly he's a reclusive type, sat at his organicomputer most days writing fiction and escaping from the real world into his own imagination. Clearly he's a fan of other literature with all the classic novels he has nearby and the scribbled notes that are littering the room have all kinds of ideas on them, really his imagination is a little too good for two hands to keep up with even with telekinetic ability. Yeah he's one of those weird Mandrakes that can move things with focus alone, there use to be an order of Mandrakes who specialised in this trick but most people think they were wiped out by the Guild of Abyss many generations ago. Maybe if he keeps writing he'll learn what really happened all those years ago, maybe he'll even bring the order back, but what is his name.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Post2_zps385eaaba

Feel good about yourself? Feel good about what you just said? I mean come on, you're not even trying now. Do it again.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Post3_zps93f26e7c

Now then, either you can get back to work on your latest novel or you can put it off for a little while, recently you've been struggling to continue your work. Some of the elders have been considering your recent work for a place in the grand archive and you're nervous about the outcome.
Zazeil, procrastinate.
Sitting back you begin making a collection of sealife origami as you often do when you're unsure how to continue. You have Trellian up to check if one of you're very limited friends come onvine and give you a distraction, despite your agoraphobic nature you enjoy the odd moments of contact with the outside world, if you didn't need to go out and catch food or give your organicomputer time to recharge in the sun you'd probably never go outside. Well, at least you get the chance to relax whenever you need to in here. Kicking back in bed is one of the best things to keep you're stress under control and now you have to concentrate on writing you've moved your bed to a few feet from your organicomputer. Looks like Avera is onvine, if she's not pruning herself or doing one of her other silly beauty regiments maybe she can help you think up a few ideas.

by **BurdenKing** Sun Nov 09, 2014 1:57 pm

=====> Be the Host

You try to be the host, but obviously fail. You expect him to simply let his guest take on the numerous and tedious responsibilities that come with being a host of his caliber? What sort of Host do you think he is?

Instead of that, why not sit down, and enjoy the desserts I prepared for your visit. It's your favorite of course, as one would expect of myself to provide. Now then, while I stand here quietly, why not go on, and continue typing up your entry.

Oh, why thank you. Well, Looks like I'll handle this in the third person. So, you find yourself looking upon the pale skinned host, having chosen the time where he usually fixes his suspenders to barge into his home. However, you know for a fact he knew you would arrive exactly when you did, and only began to adjust his suspenders for your benefit. However, that is enough admiring of our host, because admiring him can come later and be done infinitely at that same time. For now, we turn to look as the Host's personal computer, one of very average make that could neither distract a guest or make them envious, for obvious reasons of course. He has multiple tabs open, all of which seem to be camera feeds coming from the rooms of several young Mandrakes.

One could easily make multiple accusations that questions this man character and attractions, but you know he has a perfectly good excuse for this activity.

It is exactly what it looks like.

Oh......See? I told you he had a good excuse. Well, before you can voice your very reasonable problem with this activity, you see our host begin typing rapidly. As he types, you look out the window nearby....and see something that doesn't bode very well......

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) 04059

.....That could be a problem.

She's late.....just as planned. Now then, I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short. I have many other guests that require my attention, and quite honestly I believe you yourself have somewhere to be.

Oh shit your right, I have to handle all this shit! Thanks for having me over, I'm taking the cake bye!

...Now then, to click enter.

You see the man click enter, and immediately a message goes to all the children the man was spying on.

Message:

I will not ask again.

Sorry, I'll go now....sorry.

by **Meta Knight Fan** Tue Nov 11, 2014 11:05 pm

==> get pestered by that chromatic loser.

Ugh. This guy again. You approach your computer and start messaging Willov. You two exchange your normal flaming and you just feel like your sprouting day has just been ruined...

pheroMistress (pM) is now online

==> tidy up room.

You may as well take care of business and arrange things in your room. It's been a mess since the last PUPPET SHOWDOWN. Yes...so many sock-people died needlessly when STOCKING THE KID decided to rob the bank.

So, you decide to start by captchaloguing the brave SHERIFF SOCKY

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Iriet__s_clockqueuestack_by_metaknightfan-d864usw

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Iriet__s_clockqueuestack_by_metaknightfan-d864usw

It's HIGH NOON, so SHERIFF SOCKY goes into the twelfth queuestack in your CLOCKQUEUESTACK. Better get him out of there within the hour or you'll only get another shot at midnight.

==> get something better to do

Suddenly, your computer starts flashing up. You stop thinking about sock puppets and go check it out...probably that jerk trying to ruin a perfect sprouting day further.

...except it isn't. Huh. It's something about that game you and your friends got a while back... If this was marketing, the guy in charge sure was a jerk.

But where was that darn program again...oh, right...you installed it in the ROOT folder of your computer. You thought it was HILARIOUS to do that. You click to run it, but then you remember that you need your friends to play this game right, apparently, so you go back to your pesterchum.

pheroMistress: hey guys ~{@
pheroMistress: anyone out there??? -'u'-
pheroMistress: i'm ready to play -'u'-

by **nostalgicVariant** Wed Nov 12, 2014 1:20 am

Elsewhere, in a small, hidden room...

A young Mandrake finishes oiling the last links of his chain. He unceremoniously drapes it over a chair to drip off, and casually walks to the door of his small sanctuary, and looks into the mouth of a gaping intimidating cave.

He sighs, and looks down at his hands. Years of swinging chains at things he
's not even entirely sure is real has left his hands scarred and thick-barked. He smiles as he traces a finger over a scar one of those monsters had given him years ago. He turns around, and slowly walks to his Treetop. As he logs on, he realizes with a start that he hasn't even attempted to introduce himself to anyone

So, what's his name gonna be?

We don't have any time for retarded puns regarding this one's name.

His name is Lancé Ca'lén. See? No sanity questioning remarks about introducing himself to thin air.

After about ten seconds of waiting for his Treetop to root, he becomes bored, and begins to stare outside. Once rooted, he logs onto pesterchum to see if any of his few friends are online.

morbidLegacy (lM) is now online.

by Guest Thu Nov 13, 2014 7:53 pm

Cobra kicks back in the coziness of his beanbag chair, watching the screen of his treetop. The hunched little mandrake might get her much needed brace today. He would feel greatly content if the last episode ended happily, but in the unlikely event that it ends tragically, he knows he'll be able to learn some lesson from it all. Never start a war over those things--whatever they're called--they use to make braces for example.
There they are, the two opposing sides. Those who side with the sweet Maple and her bad hunch that needs to be corrected decide to go second while the group that wants to help wicked Birch with his inverted legs steam and spout like an angry teapot for being forced to go first. The fight only just begun when his chat client goes off.
While he enjoys watching this and knows it as a grand time waster, Cobra wouldn't bother obsessing over it. He clicks, pausing the movie. After shrinking it down and maximizing trellian, he spots two messages, and looks over them. His cursor hovers curiously over the Sroot folder that dude so graciously bestowed upon him and the others. Once opened, the folder expanded to show the programs he mentioned. Sweet, free game!
At this moment he notices that one of his many friends just logged on. Better hit 'em up.

Chat log:

Spoiler:

He BRACES himself for this amazing experience.

by **Damnationsedge** Tue Nov 18, 2014 1:24 am

A new game, well you do have nothing but time on your hands, you hate that. Too much time being unproductive makes you feel like your life is ticking away without any importance, you've got enough to be freaked out about without mortality and insignificance anxiety.

==> Vinner, get some reading material.

You're a good gamer, with so much free time in dry spells you depend on games to stop your mind wandering unsupervised, the things not strong enough to be out on its own. Its always good to have something on standby so the slower players have time to catch up and you don't have to resort to uncontrolled thinking.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Untitled_zps6c0b88c1

Ah, the Shroomlock Holmes Omnibus, the hardback collection of every adventure ever to come forth from 21B Brackenstreet. They could spend half the day chewing their keyboards and you'd still have plenty to distract yourself with. Well, you give them more credit than that, you just don't want to think, if you're not paying attention to your problems they won't make you snap under their weight. At least you can keep yourself distracted with your modus too, it'll take a pretty easy game to get the omnibus out and shouldn't take you more than a few seconds, you've been practising playing without your hands, and you'd better be good. This book is one of your favourites and you don't want to shoot it through your organicomputer screen.

==> Vinner, boot up this fancy new game. And while your at it get onto Trellian.

(TS) tidalScribbler is online.
TS: So how long will it take to get us started, I'm feeling a little anxious to get on with something.

by **Reiss** Mon Nov 24, 2014 5:27 am

Cedar returned home after a long night of card games and some roleplaying, which ended up keeping him out much later then he normally liked to be out. He didn't really know if he performed photosynthesis (He'd never taken the test), but he knew he preferred the sun and the night was making him want to sleep on the sidewalk on the way home.

As soon as he got back, he turned up his light-stimulant as high as he could and sat down, noticing a few group chat notifications. Cedar shrugged and joined in, getting a bit pumped up for the game.

(EN) exampleName is online
EN: Hey TS, PM.
EN: I think I see ML and ES stalking around online too.
EN: How are we doing?

by **Animefreak369** Sat Nov 29, 2014 12:45 am

After A hour or so of sorting through his loot he lifted his tired head.
he looked at his clock and realized that he has made a terrible mistake.
he had games to play and monsters to slay!
>Log on to Trellian
(AR) AtlusRadix is online
AR: Looks like most of us are online eh? Is everyone hype to play this game?

> Start the installation for SRoot

by **BurdenKing** Thu Dec 04, 2014 6:01 pm

==> Be the That's quite enough of that nonsense.

I swear, These constant formalities, while appreciated, are growing tiresome. Such a thing cannot be allowed to go on.

Sorry man, I was just trying to keep the feeling of the setting going. No need to get all flustered about it.

Don't you have a guest to entertain? I mean, you can just do your thing....I'll go back to being the narrator....cool?

That is acceptable. Please, set the scene for us.
Yea)( and make it snappy I ain't got all day here you glubbin weaklin!

uh, y-yes milady.

ahem....AHEEEMHEM. ah, alright

You come upon our host and his lovely gues- *Sudden trident stabs into wall next to our narrators face* Uh, Her most Imperius Condescension and our Host, he standing behind her as the alien conqueress looked down upon the helpless world below her, going over the report she had received from her scouts. She couldn't help but smirk at the information she had received, the information basically painting the race as nothing but a bunch of pansies asking to start pushing up daisies, in her own clever wording which was likely now being used within all the subjugulator joke jams as they prepared for their Empress's orders.

alright doc, what's the point a this planet? this gonna be another one a your wild goose chases, or did you actually do some research before wastin ma time?

Said the Condesce, gripping her 2x3dent with strength that one could never imagine someone with her small frame having. This extra muscle power was likely kept in her hair, what with it's mass being possibly 3 times her own. Our hosts, calm as always as he stared at the powerful woman before him, stepped forward with a plate of baked treats he had prepared prior to arriving. The condesce, always a fan of the culinary curiosities concocted by our ceaselessly concise crowd calmer.

My lady, what sort of host do you take me for? I would never waste your valuable time. Those previous times, as i had said, were merely you....trimming the fat off the player base if you will. You know how our master is a perfectionist with this sort of thing after all.

Our host smiled a bit, watching a sizable vein bulge out on the temple of Her Imperious Condescension. She glared at the white skinned man, baring her fang filled mouth as he just sported that shit eating grin he always had when he knew he had struck a nerve.

-Every time you mention that asshole, you must feel real nice seein my reaction.

No, never. What sort of host takes pleasure in their guests discomfort? Not one such as myself, I can assure you. I merely aide you in getting in the perfect mood for your favored activity is all.

oooh, really now? heh, and what activity is that?

She asks in a pseudo seductive tone, one only achievable with familiarity that the two naturally had after all this time. They had played that game once, her out of desperation, him out of accommodation. Our host stands straight, smirking at the question as he pulls on his suit shirt, flicking his wrists over the fabric to make himself presentable.

Why my lady, whatever it is you feel like doing of course, though, that planet does seem a good a place as any to catch your favor.

He says, fixing his bow tie, then snapping his fingers. In a flash of crackling green, a pure white suited figure with a orb shaped head stood next to Doc, holding in his hand a rolled up newspaper.

It's ready.

Doc looked at the man, then nodded. He then took the rolled up paper, briefly feeling the material between his fingers then....WOAH! He just killed that dude with a news paper! Jesus fuck!

Control the profanity sir, you are ruining the mood.

uh, oh s-sorry...thought that guy would be around longer....ahem, after feeling the material, briefly considering what stories were held withi-

start from after that you glubbin bitch!

Uh, oh sorry....With a grunt, which was purely for show so those listening could hear his voice do so, he lifted the mangled form of the white suited, orb headed man. He then smiled and nodded to HIC, bowing politely before phasing from that space.

HIC looked at the scorch mark left by the man, watching as it was quickly cleaned by some invisible wind from the colored clouds around them.

-Everytime, gotta show off to the ladies...

With that final comment, she turned her head to the red cloud that was now dominating the sky, engulfing the majority of the planet's silhouette.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Planet2_zpsd4bae24a

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Planet2_zpsd4bae24a

The thing only served to remind who her new boss was, and just how much of a team killing asshole he was. She was lucky that as much of her fleet that had arrived with her had at all, what with what their boss was doing out there. Though, she was hoping those two could rough him up a bit, just so she could smirk at the assholes scars.

But for now, we leave HIC to her own devices, her hand wielding her communications device as she sent out commands. Instead we return to our host, who had never left his home as he was currently in the middle of a very important game set up with his many guests.

Oh, looks like a duo of players have plans to start their own session. For obvious reasons, you should stop this. Doc, contact the rebels.

Spoiler:

With that, our host flew across the key board, sending and responding to messages of the many players under his care. He had to guide them, for what kind of host would he be if he left his guests to wander around in the dark.

Spoiler:

Similar messages went to all of the players, all accompanied by invites to a chat room set up by our gracious host.

Sroot Game Chat

Spoiler:

With that final message, our host holds up his wrist watch, then stands. He then seems to appearafy an apron and a bowl of cookie dough ingredients, and begins to stir. Our fair narrator can't help but wonder-Yes, both the spoon and bowl will be yours to do with as you please once I have finished

Yes! score!

by **Damnationsedge** Sun Dec 07, 2014 1:33 am

There is far too much talking going on and you are far to unsociable to stick your head into the chat log so quickly. Time to see exactly how this thing works. Opening the server you see a flash of other locations, other homes spinning by like a roulette wheel until it drags to a stop and the game seems to have decided who you're operating as server player for. Now you just need to figure out how all these commands work and what you're expected to do, seems you're leading the frontier on figuring out how a server player is meant to work.

Slam

Well that was probably a mistake. You've managed to interrupt the player by dropping a large machine that seems to be labelled as an alchemiter onto a sock sporting a sombrero and absurd facial hair.

TS: Sorry, this interface isn't very subtle. I'm gonna need to make some space.

Alright, there seems to be a drag option, maybe it'll stretch the room and give you more space to work.

Crunch

You never did like these building games, needlessly complicated. Well you've dragged half the room clean out of the house leaving your client stuck in the secure half while you dump their stuff outside and drop the room clumsily. Well, I guess you should make her a way to get back out. You lay a little flooring and stairway down the back of the house in case she needs to reach anything you just dumped outside, the alchemiter for example. Well, this isn't much of a start.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Untitled_zpseb7dbb40

by **duelingThoughts** Thu Jan 01, 2015 10:46 pm

There was a void.

An absence.

An abyssal emptiness that prevented the progression of reality; a reality that only hinged upon wires and strings, filled with the illusion of being, when actually 'being' was merely a stretch of imagination.

The world was a stage... no, the world was more fragile than that... the world was literature, it was a messy conglomerate of authors, all set upon a single forum. It was the reason life was so messy and complicated, why certain things in life just never amounted to much: because your author forgot to put you there, and now you are stuck waiting... indefinitely... for a story that will never be told.

Such was life. Such was death. It was all the same. The void pervades all, as even a filled void, still contained the sense that it had been a void. That is why the Guild of Abyss did not like the question: "Is the cup of water half empty or half full?" because they viewed it as always empty, even when full. According to the Guild... all was void, and all things that were not void were contained within it. We were all attached to nothing.

Some lesser people not enlightened by the guild (essentially anyone not prone to essentially surviving on nothing, as the desert people do everyday) may view the religion as a clinical mass-depression, an overgrown cult for wallowing in despair, clinging to the mentally hampered to survive and twist the minds of hundreds or Mandrakes to be violent manhunters. In a sense, that may as well be the truth, but it is not as malevolent as it is made out to be. Those mentally impaired are just looking for a place in life, and so they created a belief where such a thing was irrelevant, that their lack of placement should be embraced, and the lack of placement in others, should be demonstrated (through organized violence). There was no twisting of the minds because the minds that would join are already twisted...

Or at the least, unfortunate enough to believe they are twisted...

==>

This then brings us to a little Firl… who in truth was no longer very little, and had already accumulated a number of barbs, and her efficiency of retaining water was beginning to take shape.

She is you. You are she.

What is he-.... Your, name?

==> Enter name.

Prickly Depressant

That really wasn’t very nice of you. As a young Firl, you might hurt her feelings… and then she might be asked to murder someone… maybe you!

I would rethink your name choice. Try again.

==> Enter name. Again.

Your name is Kakti Kitak.

You don't feel that there really needs to be much more to be said about you. You can be quite SECRETIVE and rather anti-social.

==> Receive Sroot

You don’t know what that means. You’ve only just woken up, you have not even thought of venturing to your computer in the slightest, nor have you ever really experienced the joy of playing any sort of game. There are a very limited number of things you have experienced, some things merely because that are not applicable to the desert, and other things because tradition or your religion denied you access to them.

It was mostly because the desert fucking sucked though, however you were pretty ignorant of this.

You just woke up from a long day basking in the sun in a perfectly still sleeping posture. You shake a little to begin stretching out of your paradoxically 'frozen' state to begin the day. Maybe you would think about playing a game in a couple of hours... you were more interested in breakfast right now...

==>

by **Froslass Is Babe** Sat Jan 10, 2015 12:13 am

==> Be The Sleepy One

You seem quite sleepy but seeming to be a bit awake right now. Lets see what this sleepy heads name is. Before you/she goes to sleep again which to be honest you probably will.

==> Enter Name

Sleeping Beauty

You/her put on a sleepy gleeful smile thinking that's her actual name.

YOU NEED TO CHANGE THAT !!!

==> Enter Name. Again.

Your name is Echin Chine.

You tend to SLEEP AND DREAM a lot and in those dreams everything is nice and more then usual at times. Sleeping is what you like to do in life.

==> Receive Sroot

Your not by the computer so you didn't get the update at all. A great power would honestly have to divinely come to tell you it is actually there.Your the great and rare desert flower so as such you actually have a myth on your existence at all. Your kind doesn't live long you don't know that because your asleep and your the only one of your subspecies.

by **zirconiumJupiter** Mon Jan 12, 2015 7:13 pm

==> Stop being that imbecile and be the one with some actual sense.

You are now the one with some actual sense. This firl isn't too thrilled about you being her, but she'll let it slide this time.

==> Enter name.

You enter something stupid and mildly hilarious. Well, you would have, if you didn't just get the evil eye from yourself that is telling you that if you go through with this you will surely regret you were born.

==> Lesia Elais

You nod slightly and turn away, muttering something about how the world is filled with complete idiots who are not worth your time whatsoever.

==> Introduce yourself.

On second thought, no. You are fed up with this moronic person being you and would like them to stop doing that immediately, or there will be... consequences. You will introduce yourself another time.

==> Be someone else for now until you stop being a dumbass.

by **Meta Knight Fan** Tue Jan 13, 2015 10:04 pm

==>Be the one about to have an unpleasant surprise

You get a response in your pesterchum. Though you do not recognize the user, you shrug and just join this Sroot Game Chat window.

pheroMistress: here I am -'u'-
pheroMistress: ready to play--
pheroMistress: oh goodness what is happening??? -'n'-

Apparently, your server player did throw a massive device into your room, and then managed to rip out a good chunk off of your house. Your lovely, properly decorated house. Several curses are uttered, and you wish you could have a SIX-SHOOTER to just strife the thrice-cursed bandit who did this.

==> Freak out some more

You get back on your pesterchum, and notice the message there. Your anger is still very much unchecked. It might have caused you to awaken a bad side of you.

TS: Sorry, this interface isn't very subtle. I'm gonna need to make some space.
pM: Well...okay? What now? -'u'- ~{HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO HELP?!? I'M GOING TO KILL SOMEBODY}~

Just a slight chance indeed.

by **Damnationsedge** Thu Jan 22, 2015 6:35 pm

Well, you're making a mess of this. But at least you've given yourself some space to work. The part of the house you pulled out is now supported on a few pillars and you've made a small bridge across to it, simple and efficient. You've also added some size to it so you could fit all the weird machines that seemed to be standard in one place, even if they are covered in weird looking footwear.

TS: Ok, that should give you everything you need. I don't know what any of it does though.

At least they have all the basics. Maybe your server player will be a little more familiar with the controls.

by **Animefreak369** Wed Jan 28, 2015 10:07 pm

=> Start the game.
You start the hosting portion of the game and load it up. You are suddenly faced with a sight you didn't expect,
The room of you close friend appears in front of you. After a stunned moment you get an idea.
=> Prank
After minutes of pain staking work you take a look at your handiwork and nod, you have made yourself proud with this one.
Every single object in the room was upside down, and the tables that had things on them are now precariously stacked on top of the objects which they once held.
=> Start Actually playing the game
You set up all the necessary materials for you client to start the game then sit back and wait.

by **Reiss** Thu Jan 29, 2015 3:15 pm

=> Come out of the bathroom.

You weren't particularly surprised to see everything turned upside down, but you put on a good surprised rage face and shout few Trellian profanities to the sky, let AR get his kicks. Then you sit down at your computer, eyeing the floating orb near you uncomfortably. You reach over for the shield on the floor and equip your Shieldkind. Its not the most graceful weapon, but doubles as a nice smashing board.

exampleName has begun Trelling atlasRadix
EN: Hey loser, what do I do with this floating thing.
EN: Dude, its really... um... I'm not creeped out. I just want to know.
EN: wait brb somebody is flashing lights on at night outside
EN: ...
EN: Why is my forest on fire

by **BurdenKing** Sat Jan 31, 2015 11:08 am

There was a quite simple reason why said Forest was on fire. However, the young Mandrake would not know this reason, and instead would be left to ponder on a couple things. First, when had the sky turned so red? Second, why was there the sound of explosions and gunfire coming from the distance. However, the most important questions at this time, was who was that guy walking towards your house?

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Pumpkin-scissors15-14_zpsbd452673

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Pumpkin-scissors15-14_zpsbd452673

We move away from the likely doomed exampleName, and move back to our Host.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Tumblr_inline_my9meo78vs1qjuuww

Oh, did you think I meant....Oh no, he's far to busy right now at the moment. I of course had meant our Host of today's planetary destruction. Honestly, he's not that awesome....

Anyways, we come back to our lovely hostESS, who had just a short time ago, begun her assault on the pitiful world known as Syllvatia. While the trolls were strong, and well versed in the most brutal and effective means of warfare, the Sylvatian's were not. Their armies were pitifully small, and routinely engaged larger forces with miniscule numbers expecting an honorable skirmish. These forces were quickly wiped out. They tried to change tactics, and fight like the Trolls, but they were not trained, and neither were their generals, in fighting an invader of this power or controlling an army large enough to combat it, so disorganization was quite common and easily exploitable.

Not to mention the Trolls active use of Flame throwers and scorched earth tactics, fire being rather effective at either decimating the plant based population or forcing an Mandrake that was brave enough to fight flee in terror of the weapon of mass destruction. The small and usually on heard of branch of Pyrogulators was now receiving much more work then normal, both as a main line infantry force and as shock troops to demoralize and disable any coherent tactics that may form.

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Burning_forest_by_lyraina-d507bd4

The Syllvatian Game (Sroot) Burning_forest_by_lyraina-d507bd4

We switch back now to our true host, and find him staring down at a young, sleepy Mandrake women. She stared at him with hatred, and was ready to kill the man now, if only she had the power "Now then child, I have given you the instructions you need. If you want to ensure your friends survival in this endeavor so I may give you the Instructions, you better go follow them to the letter and begin our series of events." He said, smiling kindly and almost paternally to the young women, not even flinching as she swung her leg to kick his face, before she was thrown away into the void, her mission begun.

Wiping the small amount of dirt that had been so rudely introduced to his face, he immediately returned to his computer, to begin servering for his player and increasing the speed of the entrance as the invasion was nearing it's most frantic point. Looking at each of his players, he nodded as the tell tale signs of invasion was nearing everyone.

Nearing Zaezil's territory, a small squad of Threshicutioners was moving on through, searching for more Mandrakes to add to their chain gang of would be victims.

For Iriet, the invasion was less obvious, but the sound of the earth shaking in the surface world was quite obvious.

Pando's rather comfortable and average home was in the path of destruction as multiple groups of Subbjugulators tore through the Mandrakes neighbors and other such people who lived south of him.

The desert home of Kakti was being glassed by dragon riding Trolls in the middle of chasing down a retreating Mandrake military force. Her town had not been touched yet, but the Villagers could see the death looming over the horizon.

Approaching the home of Echin, a couple Psiionic Trolls were marching through with their handlers, searching for hidden mandrake homes and Mandrakes themselves.

Nearing the towering rainforests that house Lesia was the capital ship of the Troll army, which was shooting indiscriminately as it near the forest, destroying anything that that was along it's path as it near the Mandrake Firl's home.

All in all, our host could say everything was going perfectly in terms of progression of the events. Now, he had to work. He first sent a message to the group chat.

Sroot Game chat:

With that accomplished, our host moved on to begin being the server for the next one in line. Looking at the screen of Echin, he began to "treel" her, as the kids call it now.

Chat log between green text guy and Echin:

With that said, our wonderful host managed to fit every single piece of game equipment needed for the game in the tight spaces of Echins room, showing an unseen power of spatial awareness and handling of limited space. It was both cozy, roomy, and the way things were set up actually calming in some sort of weird, Feng Shui way.

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