..shouted the Warlock. The sound of metal upon metal could be heard all around. Assembled in the giant field outside the Last City were the Guardians - the last of them.. Amplified by some arcane ritual, the energy of the masses and the surrounding hills the Warlock shouted, [b]"We summon the In-Game Economy & Rewards Director and YOU. WILL. ANSWER!..."[/b] With a flash and a gust of wind so strong that it shook the trees and threw some chicken-leg hunters to the ground ([i]those that skipped leg day at the gym[/i]).. ..A single giant.. biggest f-in Tormentor ever seen appeared at the edge of the field. Over his right shoulder he carried a giant bag packed to overflowing. Out of this pack fell engrams, tokens of bravery and all sorts of in-game rewards and currency but most concerning were what appeared to be bones.. [b]"ahh yes.. you are all here to pre-order The Final Shape?[/b]" - screeched the TORMENTOR.. while it grinned demonically. The unearthly screeches it made echoed off the rusting ramparts of the Tower behind the assembled group. The warlock looked behind him and drew strength from the grizzled veterans.. even the titans, although now near mindless from years of crayon toxicity, still had determined to fight. He imagined he saw generations of future guardians as ghostly avatars filling the ranks.. for that is what they fought for. [b]“NO.”[/b] The amplified-voice of the brave Warlock issued forth. -------------------------------------------------------------- To be continued but I invite you to write your own ending.