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Final Fantasycraft
Hokai, so… one day Arthas, the Hero of Bastok, went to his Mog House and chaaaanged jobs from a PLD to DRK. This caused a lot of dr4m4, and ultimately forced the Humens to retreat from their ancestral homelands in the north because they didn’t have a tank and Arthas was being “a total dick,” according to Cid.

They founded a new capitol, Stormstok, in the center of the continent and quickly set their servants to work building a grand city. Humens have always relied on a race of miniature Galka popularly known as “Dunks” to do pretty much everything. But by the end of the grueling Stormstok construction, the Dunks were fed up with slavery. They revolted and fled North towards the lands soon to be called Dunk'Morogh.

Though it was only a few miles, nearly 60% of the Dunks managed to perish in the journey, including every last female! This occured over 800 years ago, yet the Dunk race persists to this day. Their mysterious methods of reproduction might be a closely guarded secret, but seriously nobody wants to know.

A handsome dunk sports a popular hairstyle.

At that same time, the peace-loving cuddle-bears called Tarutaru were undergoing a crisis of their own in their capitol, Taruregan. The council had unanimously voted to open the city's radioactive gas vents in hopes of killing a really icky bug someone saw in Sector B. Needless to say, Taruregan was rendered uninhabitable.

Many Taru escaped, but many did not and remain as irradiated leperus wandering the corridors led by the mad Mekgineer Kobalt, feasting on the kneecaps of any adventurers who dare to approach.

The surviving Taru reached the newly finished Dunk city Irenforag, built in the core of a volcano. They were taken in and remain there, perpetually afraid of the periodic lava floods and randomly collapsing buildings the Dunks take for granted.

An undead Scourge was ravaging what few Humen civilizations remained in the north, their sleepless armies led by this guy:

The great city of Jeuno, which linked the eastern and western continents with its vast bridges, was besieged by the Scourge. In hopes of saving his citizens, the Splendidly Magnificent Archduke of Jeuno called upon the power of the Pinkest Crystal to cast a massive shielding spell. It failed utterly and the city was engulfed in an endless magical maelstrom and sunk to the bottom of the sea.

The Archduke and his cronies escaped and minced off to Dalaran where they remain inside a giant purple bubble perfecting their magics and wearing sparkly, sparkly robes.

The Elvaan were blamed for all of this, and were chased into the sea.

The survivors washed up on the distant shores of Kalimdor at the foot of a huge mystical tree. They scaled it slowly, using their long necks to munch eucalyptus leaves as they went. The Elvaan hoped to build a new kingdom high in the boughs where they could find peace... and rain destruction on those traitors in the East.

Once they reached the top, though, they discovered the incredible psychedelic properties of… well, everything that grew there. Even the water! They started staying up really late, going into protracted trances, and generally partying all of the time. Soon they were known as the Night Elvaan and spent more time communing with the “Earth Mother” and making out on rotating beds than they did conquering. Except for one guy named Staghelm. He’s a total square.

A typical piece of Night Elvaan artwork.

Little did they know (or care) but the rest of their new continent was completely overrun with beasties.

The orcs had built a city creatively named Orcrimmar near the center of Kalimdor. The pizza-loving creatures had once been ordinary box turtles, but accidentally discovered the Secret of the Ooze and became the abominations you see today. A kind rat named Thrall had brought love and peace to their cruel turtle hearts, and they had abandoned the bloodlust and rage so common to the box turtle genus. Instead they embraced a shamanistic lifestyle of mid-day naps and delicious hummus pies.

The island-dwelling Yagudo couldn’t pay their rent anymore and came to Orcrimmar to crash “for a while,” but mostly they just ate Doritos.

To the west on the plains of Mulgore the Quadav were quietly dying off in a failed attempt to act like Tauren, a race of creatures to which the militaristic, subterranean Quadav bore few similarities. But tough luck for them, I’m running out of races.

Far to the south, a celestial race of insect creatures called the Xgqirn’aghn lead by Gul’pxxasyk had overrun the Palace of Rua’zighjka and the Eraigx,at’ykal Gardens. Unable to discuss the situation verbally, the various militaries of the world agreed to do nothing.

The Goblins had weathered all of these incredible events by remaining neutral. They continued to focus their efforts on making profits, building dangerous bombs to keep in their pockets, and making really big bags.

It is on this tumultuous planet that you, a brave adventurer, will make your mark. Grab your sword and enter: Final Fantasycraft!

Coming Summer 2009.
28 Sep 2005 by carwin

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