Together they stood before the three men facing them, sitting. Dark creatures, casually relaxing. When asked for this meeting, they had agreed; there was nothing better to do, and they were certain that entertaining several well known champions of their strategy game could provide a lucrative public event. Three men, perfectly at ease, perfectly poised to listen to these young men and children for the afternoon, perfectly silently amused that a demand had been made to see them.
Each player stood silently, staring at the three, waiting. Waiting two minutes, and two became five, which then became ten, and twelve. It was not nerves that slowed them; fear did not cause them to pause, rather, they were waiting for their last member, their speaker. The three gentlemen meanwhile began to feel themselves becoming slowly impatient. This was supposed to be a meeting; there was some point to this, surely, and yet over a hundred players stood before them without uttering a sound.
Finally the doors parted and a short young man walked in, dressed in the same way as the rest. He walked resolutely to the front of the group, all arranged perfectly in formation, never taking his eyes off the three at the table. Continuing past the group he walked all the way, daring, to the very edge of the high table where the three were seated. "We will begin", he spoke.
At once half of the players took out their signs, unfurled them, and while doing so, split into pairs around the room with the rest, but facing the table from all sides. For each pair one held a sign in black, with light purple text: "We do not feel at Blizzard that the maps are designed for tournament usage. They are for laddering, and obviously, at professional levels are not necessarily suitable for play." These players held their signs before themselves, facing their partners now, positioning it in such a way that it appeared as a shield, separating themselves from their partner. And at once, each carrying these signs began to cry, holding their bastion and defense.
Suddenly, the other half of the players took out their sign in each pairing. The signs they carried were white, with harsh red lettering, bearing: Blizzcon! "Ladder maps only, close spawns, gold bases!" LAWL They attached sticks to these signs, held them high, and in unison, brought them down crashing onto the crying players. Beating them mercilessly, carrying on until the sign-shields were dropped, torn, abandoned, the crying players on the floor, curled into balls, bleeding in some cases. And not a sound was made.
The men were shocked. Their jaws hung open, yet they did not have words to speak. No matter which way they turned, wherever they looked, young men and children beating eachother, and in fetal position on the floor, crying. The ones carrying the signs for beating were crying. It was horrifying. This is what we caused? They all wondered to themselves. And standing in front of them still, MC, glaring at them and them alone, knowing what his fellow players were doing around him. "Yes" he proclaimed, their silent question answered.
Just as quickly as it had began, everything came to a halt. Where they had been strewn across the room moments before, all were standing perfectly in formation once again. The men were afraid. MC stood beside them quietly, staring as always. Daring one of the men to speak. Then, together, booming, tearing the walls with the energy and volume of their voices and spirit, the players shouted:
We will not go quietly into the night!
We will not play on without a fight!
We're going to win on!
We're going to add a map!
Today! Will be flying shark map day!
The three fell back from their chairs. How long they laid is unknown. It is known however, that when they had the strength to sit up, the players were still gathered, glaring at them. Quietly, the men lowered their heads. "We are defeated; we submit." All turned, and quietly exited the room.
Thus, Cloud Kingdom was added to the map pool, and Korhal Compound was quietly snuck in.




