Fun

TAKEN FROM ГУГолка
Heroic court.
-So, ladies and gentlemen, today our society of veteran gamers, who believe that "games used to be better, the grass was greener, and the water was wetter," will judge members of the terrorist organization "Snowdrop" for their sacrilege against our idol (the crowd chants, "There is no god of TBS except Heroes of M&M and King's Bounty - the prophet!"). The sentences are final and not subject to appeal. Lawyers are not provided to the accused. Now, bring in the first defendant.
-You are accused of brutally desecrating the interface. Do you have anything to say in your defense? But who would listen to you... Sentence: play Heroes 3 until you learn to create a decent interface. Take him away! Bring in the second defendant.
-So, you are accused of creating a stupid and banal plot, of creating an unoriginal world and soulless heroes, as well as conspiring with a bourgeois store. Sentence: read the classics, since you can't write. The sentence is valid until you write a more or less decent plot. Bring in the third one (the accused is surrounded by a tight ring of guards, as the crowd is eager to lynch him).
-So, you're an artist... I've seen a lot in my practice, but this... What is this about elves? My dear, do you even know what demons are? And angels? And... (the judge spends 5 minutes listing the accused's sins). Sentence: study Tolkien, the Bible, and books on demonology until you repent and lose consciousness. Drag him away! The fourth defendant, responsible for the patches, is still in the cell until the full extent of the crime is determined.
(All characters are fictional; any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental).
P.S. Nival in Latin means "Snowdrop."

Added 51 minutes ago
Knots on the string of an elven bow.

Butterfly Week, day three.
Today I made a decision. A Decision, with a capital D! I will go to the recruitment tree and enlist in the army! That Llinotaniel from the neighboring branch will finally understand how wrong she was when she ignored me at yesterday's Dew Festival! By the way, I'm a hunter, and I'm very good with a bow; last year, a traveling druid even said that Commander Ossir would be happy to take me into his army.

Butterfly Week, day six.
I arrived at the headquarters tree. I was told that Ossir is no longer as famous, and the elven people have a new, promising commander - Wingaal, and he also needs archers. They convinced me; I'll go to Wingaal.

Butterfly Week, day seven.
I arrived at Wingaal's army tree. We hunters were placed in some kind of cabins. It's a decent dwelling, but I'll have to do something about the furnishings, at least decorate it with gems. Everyone says that we will start training tomorrow. There's nothing to do, so I'm getting to know people. The dryads are cute, but they're so dumb! If you can control bees, why demonstrate it right away?! I just shot off a root that she was using to cover her chest. And it wasn't even a chest, it was some kind of misunderstanding! I hope the swollen eye will be gone by tomorrow...

Caterpillar Week, day one.
I'm walking around proudly. Commander Wingaal praised me during the trial training. He said that I shoot very well. Only I prepare for shooting slowly. I wonder what he means by that? By the way, in the evening, I learned that Wingaal said the same thing to everyone else, about the slowness. I also found out some good news: it turns out that I know a couple of guys from the infantry; we studied together in a choreography club. Are they going to dance here too? The dryads are all sulking. I'll have to shoot off another root.

Caterpillar Week, day three.
Wingaal is paranoid. He thinks that everyone is moving too slowly. It turns out that preparing for battle in 45 seconds is the speed of a turtle. We are training to get up on alert and to transition from a marching position to a battle position. Another couple of days like this, and I will be able to transition from the "sleep" position to the "arrow aimed at the enemy's eye" position instantly. If I don't die before that.

Caterpillar Week, day four.
We are training the speed of preparing for battle.

Caterpillar Week, day five.
We are training the speed of preparing for battle.

Hedgehog Week, day one.
We have been training the speed of preparing for battle all month. When will this end?! It turns out that 15 seconds is also slow. Wingaal threatens to tie everyone's ears with ribbons if they don't train well. Tying ears with ribbons is terribly ugly; how can he say that? Ears are sacred! By the way, I want a cloak like his.

Hedgehog Week, day two.
During training, the bowstring broke, and I was 2 seconds late. I spent the whole evening untying my ears. Wingaal is a beast. Tying ears with ribbons is not only ugly but also painful.

Hedgehog Week, day three.
A druid-astrologer came and said that we are all idiots, and now it is not Hedgehog Week, but Bloodsucker Week. Therefore, all elves should celebrate. No one saw the logic, but no one refused to celebrate. It turns out that it is very fun to shoot at a treant - it doesn't understand anything and just scratches itself continuously. We rode unicorns with the dryads. I realized that it is more pleasant to untangle roots than to shoot them off...

Imp Week, day one.
Wingaal announced that the speed training is over. Combat training begins. Today, I spent the whole day shooting at targets in the form of imps. By the way, when Wingaal talks about imps, his eye twitches strangely. It's unclear. It feels like Wingaal has something personal against imps.

Imp Week, day two.
In the morning, Wingaal told us about imps. It turns out that they are such creatures! It is from them that all evil in the world comes. If an elf sees an imp, the imp must turn into a hedgehog! From arrows. I spent the whole day shooting at targets with great enthusiasm.

Imp Week, day three.
Today, they brought us live imps. How I hate their nasty smirk, their hooves, their small, oily eyes, their stupid face, their underdeveloped wings, their nasty long tongue! These evolutionary rejects do not deserve to live! By the end of the training, I improved my speed by three seconds. Wingaal praised me and promised gifts.

Imp Week, day four.
Wingaal didn't forget; he gave me gems to improve the cabins and a cloak. But Wingaal's cloak is green, and they gave me a yellow one. When I put on the hood, it looks like a red wig! Wingaal explained that this is undoubtedly the imps' fault.

Imp Week, day seven.
A necromancer with a strange name, Vladimir, came to the camp. I didn't like him; he looks at the archers strangely. We, in turn, demonstrated shooting at imps; Vladimir was clearly impressed and wrote something in his notebook. In the evening, Wingaal announced that we will be going to war tomorrow. Well, sooner or later, this had to happen. Llinotaniel came; it turns out that they still remember me at home. When she stood in front of me, leaning on a boulder, I thought that if she were an imp, I would have to shoot a little higher than her right knee; then the imp would definitely hit its head on the stone.

Rage Week, day one.
Goodbye, training tree, which has become like home. Goodbye, my dear cabin. There are too many imps in the world for elves to stay away. We are leaving!