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Edited by GiantSlayer: 5/20/2020 6:16:59 PM
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Terrarian Traveler’s Journals: Entry 1

[spoiler]I did this A: out of sheer boredom, B: Because I felt I needed to write something new, and C: because I have been grinding terraria and I wanted to share something related to it with you guys. If you like it I’ll make more. And as always constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.[/spoiler] [b][u]Entry 1[/b][/u] [u][i]Time: Night (Neither of us has a watch)[/i][/u] [i]Hello there, whoever might be reading this in the future. Connor thought that it would be a good idea to keep a journal for posterity, if we ever do indeed survive long enough for others to follow us (he’s REAL fun at parties, lemme tell ya. If I had a copper coin for every time he left his room door open I’d have enough ammo in the Coin Gun to last me a while) But I’m getting beside the point. Thing is, this world’s dangerous, from ocean to ocean, and from space to underworld. To understand it fully, we gotta go all the way back to the beginning. No, not ALL the way. To the time that matters, when things changed. When I got here. Now frankly, I’m not sure what happened before Connor picked my unconscious body off the forest floor. I do seem to remember walking in place for an indeterminate amount of time. I’m lucky he found me before it got dark, because that gave me just enough time to make us a shelter (for all his knowledge of craftsmanship Connor can’t build so much as a wooden shed). As we sat there around the campfire (that to his credit, he showed me how to make) he told me a bit about himself. He said he was from “The Order of the Guide” and it was his responsibility to show me what to do next and how to survive this world and in return, I would need to provide him shelter and protection from the larger dangers since he can’t protect himself with anything more than a wooden bow (Sort of a symbiotic relationship, I guess). After the first night passed, I struck out Eastward. It was rough going, especially with my only means of scaling the strangely formed hills being a column of rope and with the constant attacks from these creatures called slimes. (Essentially sentient JELLO with a vengeance. Oh, and they swallow things whole. Nasty.) I did find some supplies though. Got this neat jar in a chest, some torches, rope, and shurikens in pots of all things. When it got dark I made my way back to the shelter as fast as I could. If I could barely hold off the slimes, it’d be suicide to try to fight off what else roams around in the dark...[/i]

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  • "No pain, no gain" Constructive criticism is often light and therefore lacks intensity. It just doesn't have the ability to convince others. Destructive criticism is inherently volatile and evocative. It makes a person feel bad about oneself, leading to an inward epiphany that ends in benefit for the parties involved. So in conclusion I must take upon myself the painful but all too necessary job of making you feel bad. Here we go [spoiler]Your mom goes to college. [/spoiler]

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