[mitsur]

100% seconded. I've already drawn a sketch of the bar sceene, but if I went for perfection, I would be ready after a month or so.
You created a great story, Mitsur, let the fans post their stuff.

Exellent idea, Dripik. But guys, ignore the Art topic. I got a bit hurried and made it before I realized it'd look much better in here by itself.

So go ahead and post all your art on OWFTOL here, guys. I don't mind.

Anyways, here comes ch 5!

***

CHAPTER FIVE: INVASION

It was dark. A claustrophobic dark. The dark that haunts nightmares. It was all around him. It was eating at his very soul. And the worst of it was,

He was enjoying every bite.

But so much, so much darkness, it was driving him mad HE COULDN'T THINK, COULDN'T EVEN BREA-

Mitsur was snapped out his daymare. He was still being pulled upwards, his hands was still grasped firmly onto the lamp chain. He shook, unprovoked. Something had found him in his dreams, but whatever It was definitely did not mean to help him.

Rich, dying light from the sunset spilled onto Mitsur's arms as he past openingings in the wood as he was pulled higher and higher up into his tower position. Finally, he was pulled into a more modern steel area. The lamp stopped at a dark landing, and Mitsur stepped off, snapping his fingers as he did.

The lights slowly glowed on, fluorescence giving the tower an unused air. All around were crates, with weapons and ammunition resting on them. A small hallway stretched in front of him, with similar lamp-elevators at random intervals along the way.

As Mitsur checked to make sure everything was in place, the chains of two other lamps rose, and soon Munch's Master and Gretin had risen. Both of them looked grim over the approaching event. Mitsur nodded curtly, which they returned, and outfitted himself.

He grabbed a sniper rifle, and a handful of clips. Munch and Gretin did the same. Striding along the hall to their Sniping position, Munch spoke.

"What do you guys wanna bet this time? Pansies or pissed-off wannabe hackers?" he asked.

"I'm gonna go with incoherency." Gretin said. "Big alarms like this usually mean-"

"You're both being stupid." Mitsur said, frowning. Then his stern face broke into a smile. "I'm going on the smart money."

"What's that?" Munch said, curious.

"Wanna-be 1337s."

"What's that?" Gretin asked.

"OMG WTF!?!one!!11! U /)0/\/'7 no \/\/h47 7h/-\7 15!?11!!!oneonelolololol!!!"

"What the hell did that mean?!" Munch said, horrified by the atrociousness of Mitsur's 1337.

"That's exactly what I'm going for." Mitsur said, smiling a bit.

The three snipers had reached the end of the hall. A pair of elevator doors waited for them. Mitsur pressed the button, and it opened with a soft ding.

They all stepped inside, ready to do murder, as a pleasant piano version of 'When the Saints go Marching In' played from a hidden speaker.

"Trust Abe Babe to make everything pleasant before she gave the job to Alcar..." Mitsur muttered, and Munch nodded agreeably. "We could've at least gotten 'Tribute'. That's at least funny and cool."

Gretin rolled his eyes, and banged the wall of the elevator. The music changed instantly to Jimmy Hendrix, and the three were air guitaring madly in seconds.

The elevator doors opened with another ding, and the three inside showed no sign of their previous mad air-guitaring skillz. They stood stock still.

The top room was simple enough, with three firing slots in the wall, which gave them a commanding view of the battle field. One slot was on the left, another in the middle, and one more on the right. A simple air-conditioning system was in place on the ceiling, as was a small crate of water and food.

Munch took the left one, and Gretin took the right. Mitsur settled himself in the middle, and set up his rifle.

The view Mitsur had was astounding. He looked through his scope, and saw nothing but an intense, endless desert known to many of the forum members as The Desert of Ignorance, per the endless part. The dying sun still shone on some of it, thought, revealing a trackless, dry, and crumbled wasteland. Worse than even the Wasteland Blaine the Mono had crossed all that time ago with the Line of Eld in his compartment.

The desert stopped suddenly at the edge of the OWF building outskirts. Even though he was high above, and could only see the bottom portions, Mitsur though that the building itself looked majestic, a castle built and still building in honor of intelligence and rational thought.

A huge trench stretched from one side of the forum building to the other, and set up in it were at least one hundred forum members, too small to seen who they were. All of them were bustling about, waiting and preparing for the inevitable attack.

A huge dust cloud was behind the n00b army. They numbered three hundred at the most, but most of them looked tired, hungry, and burnt-out. Behind them was presumably a leader, but he was hidden in the dust cloud. Not that Mitsur, Munch, or Gretin would fire at him. The etiquette of war still stood, and anyway, the army was out of range.

The n00b army stopped their march a football field's distance from OWF.

The defenders stopped, and raised their weapons. The burning sky lit the scene of the attackers and the defenders for a moment, and ended it's long, slow travel to the horizon. It slowly traveled down, the burning sun waiting to be replaced by a burning moon. There were only minutes of light left.

Mitsur, Gretin, and Munch did not hear the following, although they were told later about the words. However, they saw everything from their sniper position.

A lone n00b walked forward, and called out in a reasonably coherent voice.

"Can the leder of oWf cum and met are leder so they can negocicate?" he asked.

Alcar, who had been dressed in regular clothes so as not to make himself noticeable, stepped clearly into the desert.

"I would prefer to see your leader himself, first. And none of this childish nonsense talk."

A stir went up from the n00b army. Voice called out faintly, like "OMG wut a jerk!!111lolone!!1", "Wuts rong wit me gramar?!1!1!!!1", and "WTF JeRk!!11one!!"

Alcar ignored it, and the lone n00b tittered. He spoke again, but it was shockingly in the voice of an untamable evil, ancient beyond thought.

"YOU FOOL," It/he bellowed. "I AM THE LEADER! AND I SHALL DESTROY YOU ALL!"

It/he snapped his fingers, and instantly began to morph into some kind of Beast. Mitsur's scope shattered, as did Gretin's and Munch's. As the sun finished it's descent, darkness fell, obscuring the figure before it could fully become It.

Although no one but Alcar saw The Faceless N00b in His/It true form that night, all sensed it. Mitsur felt a mind-numbing amount of terror and fear invade his mind, and had to resist the urge to break and run.

Gretin and Munched were unmoving, although they must have felt the same fear.

Alcar strode from the darkness a few minutes later, a mixture of anger and disbelief on his face. He shouted loud enough that even all three of them heard it in the tower.

"ALL OF YOU GET INSIDE. WE HAVE MUCH TO DISCUSS; THAT I AM SURE OF. THE FACELESS ONE HAS AGREED TO GIVE US THE NIGHT."

Mitsur nodded unthinkingly to Alcar, and the three snipers went back into the elevator and down to the lamp room. They all looked at each other nervously for moment, and then backed onto their lamps, contemplating the events that had just unfolded.

Mitsur absent-mindedly tugged his chain, and his mind whirled as he descended back into the soul-eating blackness.

***

Not much comedy or length to that chapter, but I thought you should stew on the nature of The Faceless N00b. You'd forget it all if I launched into a huge battle scene.

Anyways, thanks for reading. Put a few Dark Tower refrences (Blain the moo) but that's all the subletly I can manage for now.

So, guys, go ahead and post your artwork here, if you want.

On to ch 6!