Win a trip to meet Day9 & EG.iNcontroL at PAX EAST - Page 2

Check out the youtube annotations for some weapon stats ;D
(annotations are odd in the embedded video and full screen for some reason)


Thought Hammer: The Legendary Mallet
A fan made prelude to Sean “Day Nine” Plott’s The Boy and His Game
by Daryl “Judicant” Floyd

After playing StarCraft for hours on end he lost his 42nd ladder match in a row and his anger held no bound. He raged and at his foe who had bested him handily. The caps lock insults that spewed forth from his keyboard overwhelmed the chat that had been lost since 2.0, sending him into the void.
It was here in the infinite loneliness of the void where something, miraculous happened, something unfounded. A nameless messenger appeared, calling out to him, “Find me, I beseech you.” Bewildered he tried to respond, but alas no chat can be typed here, no response could be mustered. He was unable to understand what was happening and thought to contact tech support. Then, as if the messenger were within his own mind, it spoke directly to him. “Find me, seek me out, I beseech you!” He forgot all about his losses and all about his rage; only curiosity remained, until, a final message appeared. “You will find me. The Thought Hammer has spoken.”

He left his computer as if he were in a trance. He would seek out the Legendary Mallet.

For years he searched. For weeks he camped the Ancient Dragon spawn for the .001% obscure tome drop, and camped the Lair of the Demon Devourer ever longer for the epic .0001% mystic grimoire. These ancient lexicons led him to the location of the cryptic map and taught him how to break its runic code. The map guided him through the whispering forest, and through the swamp of sorrows; it told him of the chamber hidden away in meercat alley. He ascended the mile long spiral staircase and traded some blues he got from the Demon Devourer to the undead ferry man to allow passage across the emerald lake. He tiptoed passed a sleeping Beowulf and took the stony path until he discovered the cave where the mallet lied in wait.

His senses were peaked and all his determination mustered for this very moment in his life, he was finally where he needed to be.

Outside the cave was a ghost who would not allow him to enter unless he passed the test, a question. “How many minerals and gas does a hive cost?” He thought for a moment and realized that it was a trick question. He answered, “650 minerals and 250 gas.” The ghost smirked and vanished. He entered the cave, there was no turning back.

It felt like forever since he began his descent, far deeper than deepest of canals of the Nydus networks on Char. It was here where he came upon a wraith who asked him, “What is your favorite game type?” While he did love his 2v2v2v2’s on big game hunters and the occasional used map settings, he replied convincingly, “1v1.” The wraith nodded and vanished. He continued on.
He had made it this far, to the end of the labyrinth. He had shown the guardians he possessed the wit and wisdom to proceed. The trials are behind him but the true tribulation lies in wait at the bottom of this chasm, beyond these heavy gates.

He stood before the massive gates, when before him appeared a banshee. “What is the best way to improve your macro?” He thought he knew this one for sure since he could not seem to keep it under control. He then answered, “By keeping your money low.” The banshee wailed and vanished, then, the gates opened. What waited inside was the real test of courage.

Finally, there it was, atop the altar; the forsaken, the forgotten, the unknown. The legendary mallet of antiquity passed down as the royal heirloom of the Korean kings of Old. No one this millennia has laid their eyes upon this treasure save for the great kings of this age.

The maul itself had not been wielded as long as it has existed on this plane. But those who managed to touch its glorious shaft had their minds inundated with knowledge greater than the experiences of a thousand lifetimes.
Only a select few have been blessed with its gifts. The anointed ones of this age are believed to include the likes of Bisu the Revolutionist, Jaedong the Tyrant, Flash the Ultimate Weapon, and Boxer the Emperor. They have tasted its knowledge, and wreathed in its wisdom, however in the end the mallet rejected even them. No, they would not be its master.

But he, he could be the one to wield its might.

He took the last step toward the mallet as a fear struck his nerves, unlike any he had ever experienced; a fear that undoubtedly trumps the nightmare that cannons may be making under his bed. This fear, he began to understand, it is all the fear a human could feel in a lifetime, coming over him all at once, a pure, unfettered terror. His muscles turned ridged, and his will turned weak. The sorrows of losing and the anger of defeat pulsate within his mind, faster and with more fury than a corsair.

His fingers are upon the blessed shaft, yet, he struggles to grasp it.
A realization occurred within his mind, as he was mere centimeters from the hammer. “I cannot be afraid to lose, and I cannot allow myself to succumb to rage when I do.”

It was then that the final gap was crossed; he held the Thought Hammer, The Legendary Mallet in his own two hands; an exhilarating rush. Visions of strategies and builds flowed freely into his mind.

A being then emerged telling him all he needed to know, “You have never won a game until your opponent has left; you must always trust what you have practiced, and do not get pissed off and do something stupid.”

He now knew what he must do, but the choice was not an easy one to make; he could wield this hammer himself, or, he could draw others toward its wisdom and spread the wealth of knowledge. He closed his eyes and let himself go, freed himself, and took upon a greater responsibility.

He and the hammer are now one, all their knowledge assimilated, an archon merged. He had sacrificed something dear to him and had in turn become something much, much greater. So in his newfound omniscience he became aware of a seeker of knowledge just like himself; a courageous young gamer.
In his mind he hears a whisper, faint, but eclipsing all other sounds….

Timmy…he comes…


The End

I didn't include the cost of the drone in the final cost of the Hive (maybe I should have)