The love of gaudy graphics Of on-rails plotted games. Of re-hashed shooters plenty Is running in your veins, Strong love of small transactions, And 'early-access' lies, I know but cannot bear it, My love is otherwise.
I love a wartorn country, A land of stirrups and reins, Of ragged mountain bandits, Of plots and courtly games. I love her harvest seasons, Her skulls filled up with mead, Couched lance and shouldered crossbow, Calradia's for me.
In AD 2012 they said 'young men, lend us your ears, a new adventure's coming, set back 200 years'. Now 6 of them have passed us One more is coming near, And seeping anguish grips me Where once there bubbled cheer.
So forth I go in sorrow now, To start a game anew, The dead eyes of my character Stare from the face menu. The feeling that I have right now Is different from back then, Clutching to that desperate hope: 'it's not "if" lads, but "when"'.
Submitted December 19, 2018 at 11:03PM by avocadoisdelicious https://ift.tt/2EF4JUH
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