It's not easy being a fieldmouse. A lot of folks treat you like vermin. Every day you're beaten and battered.
But there are virtues to being small. You fit between the cracks. You find new ways to play the game. You adapt. You persist. Somehow, you survive. And one day you find yourself the 500th player to reach level 100.
Thank you very much to everyone who has ever shown us kindness along the way.
My wife and I are currently locked out of Torn on our home IP address, forcing us to try to conduct our Torn business via cell phone. This has happened before. Is there anything we can do to avoid this? We are very active players. We use Tornstats and no other software/scripts.
It's not easy being a fieldmouse. A lot of folks treat you like vermin. Every day you're beaten and battered.
But there are virtues to being small. You fit between the cracks. You find new ways to play the game. You adapt. You persist. Somehow, you survive. And one day you find yourself the 500th player to reach level 100.
Thank you very much to everyone who has ever shown us kindness along the way.
Goose Juice- Get Goosed, Get Juiced, and Get Loose! Damp Valley- Everyone Wants a Taste (of that Damp Valley)! Crocozade- Like the Gator, only Bay-ter (What a Croc!)
It’s a long hard road, the mousy way. It’s not all fresh gorgonzola spilled on the sewer grate, let me tell me. But if one persists in practicing the mousy virtues of weakness, adaptability, and making the most of what little you have, being a fieldmouse can be immensely satisfying.
I don’t know how long I’d been walking on that frozen lake when it occurred to me that I shouldn’t have downed that can of santa shooters right after draining a whole bottle of mistletoe madness. I was all twitchy and discombobulated, and the dull echo in my ears might have been the cracking of the ice, my own guttural cackling, or a symphonic intertwining of the two. Thom Yorke was insistent that he had no idea what I was talking about, but I casually dismissed his needless negativity. Somewhere in this magnificent desolation there was a chest of unknown riches, and it was going to be mine. I had seen it from the road heading out toward the prison, a high fence blocking easy access. I would have walked to the ends of the earth to get that booty. On the long trek around my spirits flagged and I decided to relieve myself of the cold with the potent mix of liquor and concentrated caffeine. Now my breath was coming ragged and my fingers were black with frostbite through the tears in my combat gloves. When the treasure finally came into view, I dismissed it as a mirage, but it persisted in existing as I slid and stumbled closer. Here it was, my moment of triumph. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and brought my mind to focus on the simple three-digit combination lock that was all that stood between me and my loot. And then I opened my eyes to gaze upon a bronze chest for which I had no key. I turned away in disgust and took two unsteady steps before the ice gave way with a thunderous crack and I plunged into those silent depths.
I woke up in the first aid tent. “What the hell?” I muttered to no one in particular. “The elves,” another patient responded, as if that was all the explanation needed for my miraculous rescue and recovery. I stumbled from the tent, the anxiety and confusion receding as the sun fell on my face. I overheard someone nearby sharing a rumor that chests would soon be spawning at the chemical waste plant at the southeast edge of town. Thom Yorke was nattering on that it was too late now, that I hadn’t been paying attention, but I paid him no bother as I made my way. A passing Santa Claus gifted me a can of x-mass and a bottle of Christmas cocktail. I smiled. It was a happy holiday indeed.
My wife and I are currently locked out of Torn on our home IP address, forcing us to try to conduct our Torn business via cell phone. This has happened before. Is there anything we can do to avoid this? We are very active players. We use Tornstats and no other software/scripts.
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