TNN-Tryker News Network: Episode [Five] now posted

[jenuviel]

Episode One: Something Wicked This Way Stumbles [Originally posted shortly after Patch 1 went live][Compiled by request]

"This just in: at 4:33 AM, a kitin emissary approached the gates of Zora carrying a message. Unfortunately, everyone's inventory was full of partial stacks of low-level materials gained from harvesting away death points, so the emissary was forced to drop it on the ground for people to read. [Several people tried to place these materials on their mektoubs, but they were currently full as well, most with used kleenex]. The message contained the following script:

"Developers r ourz. Deliverz $14.95 tu uz in 1 mnth
frum Mundae if u wantz to c them agin."
One of the town's corporals told us he'd pay us three dapper to kill fifteen of the kitin for him, but this reporter opted to pass on that opportunity. When asked for comment on the kitin ransom note, one citizen replied:

"We're not even sure these "developers" exist. We've been discussing it, and we feel that Jena has grown angry with us for bathing irregularly. As a result, we've been spending all of our time in rivers, which has further convinced us of the truth. So far the rivers are one of the few places where we're not instantly slain by gingos and ragus."

Another citizen had this to say:

"Umm..did that ransom note say $14.95? Isn't that the cost of a monthly subscription to the Gladiatorial Open Tournament and Championship of Heroic Atysians? Has anyone seen the pit bosses of the tournament lately? I'm beginning to think there's a connection. Perhaps if we looked into those pit bos-..."

Regrettably, the interview was cut short at this point as a strangely aware-looking sprightly yubo with a French name urinated on the citizen's foot, killing him instantly. We did send a communique to the pit bosses of G.O.T.C.H.A. with request for a comment. I'm sure many of you will be happy to hear that, as a result, the staff of the Tryker News Network (of which this reporter is a member) has been "invited" to participate in the next G.O.T.C.H.A. tournament. We've heard our opponents will be a pack of Scowling Gingos.

If you'd like to reach the paper with any comments or information, please contact our next of kin at 10942 Respawn Point Road, Cities of Intuition, Atys. We thank you for your readership and look forward to doing business with you in future lifetimes."

[jenuviel]

Episode Two: Risen From the Ashes [Originally posted after Cerest's announcement that there would be a mini-patch to answer customer concerns, but prior to the actual mini-patch implementation]

Dateline- 7:31 AM

"This reporter is glad to announce that the Tryker News Network's untimely demise in the Gladiatorial Open Tournament and Championship of Heroic Atysians was prevented just in the nick of time. The Scowling Gingos had just been released from their pens when a cloaked figure on a white mektoub appeared. This figure produced from its cloak a small timepiece with jewel-encrusted hands which appeared to be turning backwards.[Note to self: the timepiece featured the image of a large white mouse with larger black ears. Pass this on to the Department of Religious Iconography at the University of Atys.] Even as we watched, the Gingos crept backwards into their cages as if time were being reversed.

Unable to quash my journalistic instincts, I asked the figure who he, she, or it was and what it was that he, she, or it was doing.

"I'm a member of the Creative Solutions Regiment," replied the cloaked personage. "Some folks call me Cerest. If you like what I did with that watch, wait until you see what I can do with an hourglass, a yubo, half of a lemon and a quality level 1 pickaxe."

I just squinted at the enigmatic being and nodded as if I understood. It's never a good idea to admit ignorance to a superior being- they tend to eat you. I learned that in my university class, "History of Fyros Excavation 101: Why Shovels and Stupidity Don't Mix."

The figure smirked somewhat reassuringly, making me even more impressed with its abilities. How exactly does one smirk reassuringly? I made a note to practice it in a mirror, or at least some Modi armor, later. Suddenly, the sky filled with stormclouds and fat droplets of rain began pelting the staff of the TNN, as well as those who had assembled in the arena to watch the spectacle.

Gesturing at the sky, the mysterious Cerest said with a twinkle in its eye, "Water you going to do now?"

"Water?," I thought with another quickly concealed look of confusion. Was that some divine "riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a...err..uncertain questiony thing?" Come to think of it, those raindrops did look a bit odd. Turning my head toward the sky and pushing a lock of hair from my face, I peered intently at the falling droplets. Each wet drop was perfectly symmetrical. More than that, they all appeared to be filled with letters. The more I looked, the brighter and larger those letters became.

"We apologize for the inconvenience. We're sending a geologist sometime between five am and eleven pm to take a look at the glowing green rock problem later today. She'll be accompanied by Sogfried and Riy, a pair of freelance animal experts who will be plying medication to the local fauna." -The Management
"Management?" I thought to myself, all the while nodding sagely at Cerest. I knew I wasn't fooling anybody, but at least the shrouded biped was doing me the favor of playing along.

"Ummm," I said eloquently, "please tell the management that the staff of the TNN is grateful for the maintenance."
It was at that moment that my editor whispered into my ear, "Ask if they do any catering! I haven't eaten since the cloppers trapped me in our Lakelands branch office. If possible, see if they make crabcakes." [Note: I still have no idea how that man got his job.]

Of a sudden, Cerest the noble aristocrat of the Creative Solutions Regiment (or NA CSR for those readers with ADD [Atysian Dummy Disorder]) flashed a brilliant grin, nudged its mektoub onto its hindlegs, then galloped upward into the night sky. I couldn't help but notice that my editor was stuffing a crabcake through his bushy mustache and smiling like an otter with a shellfish habit.

To our Zorai readers: while it appears Jena was not in fact urging you all to bathe more frequently in the rivers around Zora, we've received several requests from our Tryker readers encouraging you to continue the practice.

To our Matis readers: we've received multiple requests from our Zorai readers that you stop making hat racks out of old growth trees regardless of how "supernaturally matterific" they look. Apparently the Kami have, in their displeasure, made all Zorai masks weigh an extra twenty pounds until the situation is handled.

To our Tryker readers: our Zorai, Matis, and Fyros readers have all suggested that you are too flighty.The Matis have passed on a formula for mild tranquilizers that they believe will help, the Zorai have sent along some rocks to be placed in your shoes, and the Fyros have sent a large number of vegetable-based nails and hammers along with an illustration of one such nail being driven through a boot by one such hammer.

To our Fyros readers: the Tryker, Matis and Zorai people, as well as the yubos, messabs and mektoubs, all request that you put the bloody shovels down and get the hell out of the Prime Roots before you wake up something worse. Learn a lesson people!

I guess that's it for this update. Reporting from the G.O.T.C.H.A. arena outside Yrkanis, this is Be'lauppee Corath. Good night, and may the good news be-"

"-Damnit Mac'Rourke, stop waving that crabcake at me!"

[jenuviel]

Episode Three: The Battle for Atys [Originally posted after Patch 1, mini-patch 2]

"This is Be'laupee Corath with the Tryker News Network. We're interrupting your normal programming to bring you this update on the Battle For Atys [theme music plays ]. We have conflicting reports coming in from citizens of the capital cities, some of whom are attempting to rally morale by insisting the onslaught of near-certain death is yet another challenge to overcome, others of whom were unavailable for comment due to an acute case of no-longer-breathing-itis. For more insight on the situation, we take you now to Yavinia Morlai, a TNN reporter who has been seeded with the 67th Terraforming Brigade out of Yrkanis. Yavinia, what's the situation there?"

[slight pause during transmission]

Yavinia: "Be'lauppee, it's a madhouse out here. Due to great population losses, the Matis military has been relying upon draftees to fill their ranks, most of whom are young and inexperienced. Unforunately, these draftees are being made short work of by a new and vicious breed of suckling yubos."

Be'lauppee: "Are no tactics successful, Yavinia?"

Yavinia: "It doesn't appear so, Be'lauppee. One-on-one strategies appear to mean certain death. Even group assaults tend to result in at least some loss of life. Fortunately, local miners have reported great boosts in their findings and have been providing the troops with massive shipments of ore."

Be'laupee: "Has the military complex been able to make use of the ore in order to provide the troops with increasingly effective weapons for use in repelling this new strain of yubos?"

Yavinia: "Weapons? No, I'm afraid not, Be'laupee. Most of the soldiers are just throwing the stuff at the rodents as an attempt to cover their escape attempts. Regrettably, the success rate is rather slim at this point."

Be'laupee: "What about Matisian magery, Yavinia? Have the sapcasters been effective in repelling the assaults?"

Yavinia: "Many have tried, Be'laupee, but these new yubos appear to have developed some amazing resistances to sapcraft. Reports indicate that they also are a good deal heartier than previous strains. As result, the bodycount has been rising steadily each day."

Be'laupee: "I see. We'll keep our fingers crossed for you at the studio, Yavinia. Keep your head down."

Yavinia: "I'll do my-" [a shrill scream fills the air, followed by a muffled thud ]

Be'lauppee: "Umm..yes, well. Let's go to our Zorai branch where Li'po Chao is standing by with a Kami representative and its translator. Li'po, what's the situation there?"

Li'po: "Good evening, Be'laupee. I'm standing at the Kami shrine outside Zora with an unnamed Kami informant and its translator to get an idea of what might be responsible for this new wave of mutated wildlife. Mister..err..miss..err..friend Kami, what can you tell us about the situation?"

Kami: "Blurp boonie pop klutee zowfol Jena POW!"

Translator: "It says that Jena has gone insane and has begun manipulating the land and its inhabitants in order to destroy her own creation."

Li'po: "It said all of that?"

Translator: "Well, it was a bit more succinct, but its terminology would not be appropriate for mainstream media."

Li'po: "Ah, I see. Well, what was it that caused you to conclude the Goddess had lost her mind, friend Kami?"

Kami: "Zoola conti machto falumba niknik. Towinga chao findo mats ding ding zilch, zow ooba ooba ooba."

Translator: "It said that the land has begun to behave erratically. One minute it is exuding toxic gasses, deadly explosions and miniscule portions of ore, the next minute it is producing copious amounts of the very same material with little or no activity at all, and all of this in the very same spot. As the land is an extension of the Goddess, it stands to reason that the Goddess has had a breakdown of some sort. Jena's madness is reflected in the madness of the land."

[Li'po squints skeptically ]

Li'po: "Are you sure you're translating correctly? That seemed a bit more verbose than the Kami's offerred words."

Translator: "Well, the direct translation would be 'Goddess [censored ] land, Goddess make land bloom. Goddess is crazy as [censored ]."

Li'po: "Ah. I see. Friend Kami, is there anything the people of Atys can do to help the Goddess? Traditionally in epics, an insignificant force triumphs over insurmountable odds to bring freedom and happiness to the land."

Kami: "Mook mook mook! Lin forli moya non!"

Translator: "Run run run! She'll kill you all soon."

[Li'po laughs nervously ]

Li'po: "Uh, thank you. Live from the heartland, this is Li'po Chao. Back to you, Be'lauppee."

Be'lauppee: "Thank you, Li'po. It sounds like this will be a good year for Fike crosstrainers! Let's turn now to Landro Mirni in the Fyros homeland. Landro, can you hear me?"

Landro: "Yes, Be'lauppee. I'm currently standing outside the Prime Roots. I've travelled here with a group of seasoned miners who are attempting to gather the rarest of materials in order to provide their military counterparts a fighting chance against the newly-termed "SkruYubos." Unfortunately, most of the troupe was slain along the way, but a few have managed to get inside the Roots."

Be'lauppee: "Have they sent anything back out yet, Lando?"

Landro: "My name's Landro, not Lando. This isn't some silly space opera, you know. With regard to your question, only soiled underpants and four severed arms have been recovered at this point, Be'lauppee. We're hoping for better results soon, however."

Be'lauppee: "I see. Well, even if worse comes to worst, you won't go home empty-handed."

Landro: "True enough, Be'lauppee. Forewarned is four armed, as they say."

[Be'lauppee groans]

Be'lauppee: "Has any thought gone into using what ore you've been able to find to create magical amplifiers for the upcoming battles?"

Landro: "The possibility was investigated, Be'lauppee, but it seems as if an unexplainable wave of short-term memory loss has washed across the artisans of the land."

Be'lauppee: "Memory loss? Can you expand on that, Landro?"

Landro: "Well, at first nobody could remember how to make the amplifiers. It was as if they all suddenly had the information wiped from their minds. Then one guy said he thought he could make some magic mittens. He was teased ruthlessly by his peers for several days before they all just shrugged and decided to try it."

Be'lauppee: "I see. And how did that go?"

Landro: "Not so well, Be'lauppee. It seemed as if no matter how hard they tried, the artisans were unable to learn from their mistakes. They just kept making the same one-fingered mitten over and over again. This was made even worse by the fact that the one finger they kept making was in a rather embarrassing location."

Be'lauppee: "Oh dear. I can see how that might be problematic. Have you heard any other news in the area, Landro?"

Landro: "Well, rumors are circulating that the kitin may be massing for raids upon the Fyros cities, but we haven't had confirmation yet."

Be'lauppee: "Heavens! If the yubos and gingos are laying waste to the population, I can only imagine what a kitin invasion would do! I assume the population is making preparations for their defense. Have their efforts produced anything?"

Landro: "Yes and no. They haven't come up with anything to improve their defense, but they've been producing much the same thing as their miners have here at the Roots."

Be'lauppee: "What's that, Landro? I thought they hadn't found any ore just yet."

Landro: "Oh, no, they haven't. I was referring to the soiled underpants."

Be'lauppee: "Ah. Yes. Well. What about the artisians? Have they come up with any last minute ideas?"

Landro: "Most of the artisians have turned to religion at this point, Be'lauppee."

Be'lauppee: "I see. Well, prayer can certainly be a great aid in unpredictable times."

Landro: "Well, yes, Be'lauppee, but that's not what I was referring to. The artisans have all begun to leave their one-fingered magic mittens at various shrines to Jena scattered across the land."

Be'lauppee: "Ah. Well, thank you for your report, Landro. Be safe out there. Let's go now to Mac'rowlin Dougal in the Lakelands for our final report. Mac'rowlin, how is the Tryker population handling the current situation?"

Mac'rowlin: "Well, Be'lauppee, I'm uncertain. Other than you and I, I haven't seen another Tryker in weeks. In a related story, however, the Lakeland cloppers are looking well-fed. This winter's crabbing season appears as though it'll be a huge success if any of the population managed to survive."

Be'lauppee: "Well, thanks Mac'rowlin. It's always nice to end the evening with good news. To everyone out there on Atys who's still breathing, good night, and may the good news be yours."

[jenuviel]

Note: I'll just post any future articles on this thread, though I'm still hoping Nevrax does something to deny me material. I'd be much happier if I were having fun playing the game rather than sitting around thinking up satirical news fluff. Cheers!

P.S.- I did a bit of editing to the first two articles. Because I originally wrote all three on the fly, I wasn't really concerned with tying them all together at the time. Since they've become rather popular, however, I went back and changed "The Atys Gazette" and "Jen Uviel" to "the Tryker News Network" and "Be'lauppee Corath." Other than that, the articles are identical to their orignal appearance.

[yy48n19]

I love this stuff, Jenuviel. You are truly an amazing writer with a great sense of humor. Keep it up, please!

[jenuviel]

Episode Four: Attack of the Killer Bugs

Dateline- 6:23 pm

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Be'lauppee Corath with a late-breaking news story. As of this afternoon, reports have begun coming across the wire of a massive beetle infestation. Sources indicate that these beetles are being discovered in all burroughs of Atys. We take you now to Mac'Rowlin Dougal who is standing by in the Tryker Lakelands."

Be'lauppee: "Mac'Rowlin, what's the situation there?"

Mac'Rowlin: "Good afternoon, Be'lauppee. I'm here with Cu'stomer Soo'pport, an entomologist from the University of Atys, Lakelands. Cu'stomer, what can you tell us about the current infestation?"

Cu'stomer: "G'day, Mac'Rowlin. Well, mate, our entomology department started spottin' these 'lil beauties several days ago, and we've begun to notice increasin' numbers of the buggers with each passin' hour. Normally we'd wait 'n see how the local crocs and woolies reacted to the situation before raisin' any alarms, but these particular blighters be quite unusual."

Mac'Rowlin: "Unusual in what way, doctor Soo'pport?"

Cu'stomer: "These beetles talk, mate, and not just in one language. So far, we've counted over seven dialects. Even more of a worry is the fact that these buggers are not simply repeatin' a "click-click" type of code- they're actually relayin' messages, mate, though some of 'em be difficult to understand due to their thick yank accent."

[Mac'Rowlin shifts nervously]

Mac'Rowlin: "I'm sorry, doctor- did you just say these bugs were speaking?"

Cu'stomer: "That's right, mate. Here, let me show you one of the earliest little kippers we've found."

[Dr. Cu'stomer Soo'pport takes the lid off of a rather large masonry jar, reaches inside and extracts a large black beetle with iridescent plating]

Cu'stomer: "We call this little love 'Lulu.' She was the first beetle we came across, and her jibber-jabber is one of the most common lines we've been gettin'. Come on, Lulu, give us a word. There's a little beauty..."

[Dr. Cu'stomer Soo'port pokes the beetle with a twig]

Lulu the Bug: "Combat sux! Combat sux! Ragus kill me two hit! Ragus kill me two hit! I cancel! I cancel!"

Mac'Rowlin: "Heavens. Has this anything to do with the recent story we've been covering: The Battle for Atys?" [theme music plays]

Cu'stomer: "We believe so, mate. Their appearance did start around the same time. We've tried calmin' the little things down, but no amount of proddin' or pettin' seems able to get through to these little beauties."

Mac'Rowlin: "Do you mind if touch it?"

Cu'stomer: "I wouldn't, mate, they-.."

[Mac'Rowlin extends a finger toward the beetle, which quickly sinks its mandibles into his skin]

Cu'stomer: "..-bite."

[Mac'Rowlin issues a shrill scream and begins hopping on one leg even as the doctor attempts to remove the insect by continually poking it with a stick]

Mac'Rowlin: [still hopping] "Well, doctor, have you had any...OUCH!...success in reducing the number of these insects?"

Cu'stomer: "Well, mate, our usual method of poking it with a stick hasn't had any appreciable results other than the one you've just noticed. I thought about throwing an apple at it, but I didn't think enough people would get the reference to make it worthwhile. The beetles do seem to be persistent little blighters, though fortunately me wife is brilliant with a needle, so she's been able to keep me stitched up."

Mac'Rowlin: "I see. If she's around, I'd like to speak with her when we're done here. [a sickening crunch is heard as Mac'Rowlin steps on something off-camera] You said you'd heard other messages from these creatuers, doctor?"

Cu'stomer: "That's right, mate. I've captured most of 'em in this Trykerecorder 2000. Let me just press the button 'ere..."

"I can't dig up as much junk as I culd yesterday! I keep getting trash! The only thing I can make with trash is a doublewide trailer, and we all know how worthless housing storage is these days!"

"The shop mats cost a [censored] fortune! How the [censored] am I sposed to make [censored]????? If I'm going to waste my daps making anything, it'll be a nice spike for you to spin on!"

"The NPC craft missions don't refresh. I'm going broke because the missions I CAN get pay squat. Is there anywhere I can sell my blood or a kidney?"
"Umm..yeah..umm..I'm famous, really famous, but..uhh..nobody knows who I am. It's starting to give me a complex."
"I can't dodge anything! A suckling yubo just killed me, and I'm level 250 in pikes! Granted, I had to stand there for thirty minutes, but it still sux!"

"I just want to say that I think you guys are doing a great job. Don't listen to all those whiners. I like a chal-" [a blood curdling scream fills the air, followed momentarily by a wet thud and some loud gingo-like howling]

"My spells are all getting resisted! I'm quitting if you can't fix this! You guys suck! I hate you I hate I hate you I hate you! And how come none of you are talking to us? I hate you I hate you I hate you!"
"Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been. Lives in a dream. Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who is it for? All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong?""Donde esta la biblioteca? La biblioteca esta en la ciudad!"
Mac'Rowlin: "Did that beetle just ask where the library was?"

Cu'stomer: "Uh, yeah, we made that last one up, mate. It added, ya' know, flava' internacional."

Mac'Rowlin: "Uh, right. Well, the rest of those beetles sounded pretty angry. Is there nothing that can be done?"

Cu'stomer: "We're working on a solution, mate, but we're not sure if we can come up with one before the little blighters overrun the land. For every idea we come up with, two more problems arise. It's not an easy job, mate, and we're gettin' a lot of pressure from the chancellor regarding our grant."

Mac'Rowlin: "Is there any advice you can offer our viewers, doctor?"

Cu'stomer: "Well, you might try takin' a vacation in the Fyros desert or the Tryker lakelands. Both areas have just as many nasty beetles as the rest of the land, but it's a bit easier to bury your head in the sand here because..well, we've got sand. You could try to do it in the jungle or the forest, but it'd take a lot more diggin'. Also, think about gettin' a stick. It might not kill 'em, but these buggers hate gettin' poked with sticks."

Mac'Rowlin: "I see. Well, thank you for your time and insight, doctor."

Cu'stomer: "No worries, mate. If ya' still need them stitches, me wife be around here somewhere. Ne'vrax! Where be ya', woman? There's sewin' to do!" [in a whispered voice, "The lil' woman could take me head off at ten paces if she wanted to, but she lets me stand tall in front of strangers."]

Mac'Rowlin: "Uh..right. Be'lauppee, back to you in the studio."

Be'lauppee: "Thanks, Mac'Rowlin. It sounds like we've got a bit of a situation out there. If I were any good at forest harvesting, I'd definitely be Off in the Deep Woods right now!"

[Mac'Rowlin groans]

Be'lauppee: "That concludes our report this evening. The Tryker News Network will not be seen for the next several days, as we'll all be vacationing in the Fyros Desert with a packer mektoub full of shovels. Good night, and may the good news be yours."

[aldrikoy]

ROTFLMAO!!!! Keep it coming!!! I am one of those with a "thick yank accent" and I say BRING IT ON!! LOL. Priceless.

[jenuviel]

ROTFLMAO!!!! Keep it coming!!! I am one of those with a "thick yank accent" and I say BRING IT ON!! LOL. Priceless.

I'm a yank, too. I just tossed that in there to underscore the Croc Hunter reference.

[aldrikoy]

I'm a yank, too. I just tossed that in there to underscore the Croc Hunter reference.

Even better. You are indeed talented. And the apple reference? Only one I can think of is the Apple of Discord, but I may be showing my age and liberal arts education there. Keep on keepin' on!!!!

[jenuviel]

Even better. You are indeed talented. And the apple reference? Only one I can think of is the Apple of Discord, but I may be showing my age and liberal arts education there. Keep on keepin' on!!!!

"The Metamorphosis," by Kafka. =)