Invisible Danger
From NexusWiki
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You're resisting a zombie assault in Malton, a city stained in the blood of the dead and undead. You rest for a moment, and Whumpf! Next thing you know you're stuck in a battle to determine the next universe. What the hell is it with these apocalypses? Do the powers that be have no pity? Can't we, like, get thrown into a tussle to breed the cuddliest strain of rabbit? A tooth and nail battle to grow the finest piece of turf gardeners could wish for?
Evidently not.
Then we got stuck in this place, and were mightily alarmed at the barricade shortages. Hiding just doesn't seem as safe. Frankly, we just wanted a place where hoodlums wouldn't stroll up and kill us with impunity. We wanted a stronghold. So, amidst the disorder, we made a faction. We picked our leader in time-honoured iD fashion: whoever felt like putting the effort in and sorting it out got the job. So anyway, here we are. We were unaligned. I figured the best way to stop these gods mucking around with us is to have free will, and tell good and evil to shove their ideologies up their backsides and the sooner we're in charge of our own destiny, the sooner we won't end up getting repeatedly reincarnated and brutally slaughtered. However, when we decided to put the power of free will and determination into practice, we used our free will to vote to become Good.
So, what do we represent in St. Germaine? Well, we're doctors who believe that quite often the sword is mightier than the scalpel. In fact, we're the Nexus's most violently-inclined medical faction. Symptoms can be dealt with by sutures and dressings, but sometimes there's nothing like dealing with the main cause of St. Germaine's injuries: bad people. Especially the ones with bad skin conditions and strange cranial bone growths. We're working on a cure, but just at the moment, we've decided that best results are often achieved by wiping out localised concentrations of such afflicted souls as a means of preventing mass contagion.
Invisible Danger is a Good faction, so you must be a good or unaligned class. However, we are happy to have members who have evil personal morality: sometimes you have to turn a blind eye in the name of medical and scientific progress. We accept anyone, but fighters and medics are our main concern, we also have an in-house crafting team which is happy for new members.
Invisible Danger has the following SH upgrades: Forge, Gun Workshop, Medbay, 2 ward increases.
Contents |
[edit] Invisible Danger before Nexus
[edit] The book of the iD
On the Sixth day, god created man.
On the seventh day, after jam and crumpets, God created noobs.
Looking down upon the noobs, God saw some of them were using grammar and words consisting of more than four syllables, some of which one would conceivably need to look up in a dictionary. So, God gave unto the noobs computers, 56k modems, and counterstrike 1.3. Looking down upon his noobs, God saw that they were joyous. Magically upon connecting to the Internet, noobs lost all power of communication; they had to invent their own; the new world of the CS was a confusing place: a world where people call one another gay instead of stupid (am I the only person that thinks that's retarded BTW?); define minor emotional attacks worthy of a spot ridden goth as "rape", and generally give the fine art of argument and insult a bad name.
Soon the noobs tired of dying alone; so they huddled together in a remote temple and plotted. A pact was formed; a pact to kill other noobs, plant the odd bomb; make sure the unimaginatively insulting of the world receive suitable guidance for their crimes: this pact was named Invisible Danger; the noobs cemented it with a succession of clan tags. Each of these was more flowery and pointless looking than the last - so they settled for the first one instead.
And lo God saw his people were being lame and not talking to one another; God gave unto the noobs IRC. The noobs thanked God by filling IRC with bots, bouncers, amusing hostnames such as @shutd0wn.his.methlab.for.frequent.coffeestops.net, another.n00b.got.pwn3d-by.us and other pointless tat. In a frenzied orgy of channel hopping and idler slapping, the noobs founded a new channel. Their new haven was known as #id.cs (because some other buggers had nicked #id, the sneaky foul-talking rotters), and asked other noobs to come and sit in it - so that the angel @L might appear and grant them protection from skript kiddiez, haxxorz, and something called a Lark.
And God did watch the noobs grow and progress (but not up to the poit of being able to throw a decent flashbang on a dust A rush *tut*), until they were considered to be passable - providing you played them on a Sunday, and their good player hadn't been called for tea by his mum/Mrs/dog. As the noobs grew ever leeter ( more L001 than L337 to be fair) they fought a mighty battle for leadership. A power struggle for the hearts and minds of an uncountable number of the unworthy denizens of #id.cs was fought across the interweb. Electricity sparked and spluttered (well probably), as vicious hate filled cries reverberated around the broken chaos that was once #id.cs. The air was saturated with spat dummies, and flying toys; the survivors battled their way to a new channel. They called this channel #invisibledanger, and once again they gathered the faithful to pray for the divine protection of @L; (Maybe even the divine bearer of justice: @Q; had God not set a stupidly bloody high limit of 50 noobs praying for an entire thirty days - I mean come on!)
Out from under the eyes of God noobkind grew weary of God's gift. They'd found most of his patches to the work to be sorely lacking; some even went to far as to proclaim the hallowed executable to be "gay" - this being most brazen, heartfelt, and intellectually stimulating insult any noob can possibly hope to convey. Unhappy, both with god and his work, the noobs left the CS1.6 and proclaimed his latest work, Steam, an abomination. Many days and nights passed and in #invisibledanger the odd tumbleweed was seen to roll idly between the endless streams of quit and join spam. Wandering, dazed, confused, but together, the noobs tried bowing down in front of new games. Some they even enjoyed - for a time. One after the other, they dragged forth false idols; throwing themselves prostrate on the sand they screamed, yelled, and hollered for God's mercy.
God glanced down with displeasure and returned to watching A Question Of Sport.
After forcing his noobs to play two entire years of America's Army and Co-op Raven Shield (on one server that was kind of ok) God once again took pity on his noobs; after tiring of watching them try to commit Seppuku with chip shop Sporks, he gave them CS:S BETA.
God, pleased to hear the noobs STFU, returned to alphabetizing his prog rock and heavy metal collections.
So happy were the noobs with the gift, that they exalted at the altar of the BETA for many days and many nights; they dreamed of a temple; a shrine for all noobs; a place to hear the word.
And the word was pwn: so it was that the noobs learned that CS:S was a bit like 1.3; utterly devoid of pansyassed shields and filled with next generation Good-Ez. And lo, the noobs did lay down the pwnage. Much pwnage was dealt and the pain was not spread thinly. Time and time again, new noobs came to exalt at the temple of the lord; numbers of the faithful became so bountiful that even the original few had to click refresh for a good half an hour before they could get their smack on. In a fury of recruitment, and joyous abandon, the id was let loose.
In time, a mere noob achieved the aspect of godliness, without ever really trying; leaving others mute and a quiver with fear lest they should provoke him, and thus unleash his h3avenly powerz of bannage. The head-noob grew tired of his people; their endless random bickering depressing him, he prayed alone in their ivory temple. He asked for a miracle; one that would elevate him from the debauched pit of slander that he had created. Eventually the head-noob observed that a miracle was not to be forthcoming; the holy klaxon, F4, did not concern itself with the matters of mere noobs. The head-noob despaired; he had never felt so alone, apart from one time in a dark corridor that still gives him the shivers.
Set asunder from god, the head-noob realized the torment he had created, was not why God had given them CS1.3. Instead it was given so that noobs might pwnz. The head-noob stepped back and looked once more upon what he had been wrought; with a sigh, he accepted that noobs were noobs, and exerted his mighty power one final time. In a near epic struggle, of almost five PMs, the iD was transformed; once a dyed-in-the-wool WTF PWN LOLLERSKATES CS:S match clan it groaned and shuffled into a reasonably rugged community with what some jokingly call democracy. The no-longer -head-noob prefers the term despotism; he is happy to be ignored. However, the no-longer-head-noob accepts only one thing as fact: people would spend a week discussing what colour to paint the inside of a closet if you let them.
Noobs are also impatient.
[edit] Notable actions
2006 Archive [1]
So, 2007. Well, we forgot to update anything in here for a while, so I'll give you a brief run down of the last few months. At the end of 2006, we had won our ferocious battle against the Axis Of Evil. Whilst totally unnoticed by the bulk of the NW community, ID trashed over 30 strongholds in a month (including 4 in one day) with a spot of support from Convent Of Nuns, Knights Templar and Alliance of St. Germaine, at the cost of 2 SH defeats. Lordy stepped down as leader, and a short time later eventually went to the Great Big Operating Room In The Sky. He is much missed. Vig took over. Harper was by this time a placid place, ID gently wound down operations to 2-3 raids a week, and we had to wander afar. Sadly, large factions like Oblivion Squadron tended to wander to Harper and find us, so after a while, we retreated to Paradise to join the Celestial Defense Force in their Celestial Fortress. Didn't do much good: groups like the Pirates of R'lyeh, Demons Next Door, Balance and Oblivion Squadron still looked us up occasionally. And we were bored. Paradise is just plain dull, and ammo is a bitch to find. So we returned to Harper.
Back at Harper, we carried on the good work tending the wounded and killing the diseased. At a whim we polished off little factions as eaily as putting a plaster on a small cut, and occasionally got trashed by an irritatingly large faction like Oblivion Squadron. Vig went into semi-retirement, and we elected Sorryyoulose. Who promptly had to retire within 24h, and that left Agema holding the raid organisation baby - again. And indeed, he still does, despite several attempts to offload it. Anyway, ID was bored killing dinky factions. What was needed was A CHALLENGE. So we occasionally popped off to nail groups larger than ourselves, like The Dark Oppressor's Guild, and in one vicious fight, The Scourge, who were nearly twice our size. That was a nice flag to take. We were quite upset when they reclaimed it. We finally got round to nailing Balance as well, and in honour of their neutral zealotry, we kicked them in with our semi-buddies and one-time sparring partners The Claw.
Eventually, some new faction on top of the usual suspects decided to bother our home. The Edgetown Original Gangsters decided to bring their venereal diseases and drug addictions to our humble home. And so, as this rambling waffle wanders on, I'm pleased to report that we successfully cleared out their pox-ridden SH just last night, on the 10th May 2007. And there's plenty more where that came from if anyone bothers us.
Currently, ID is floating about 50-60 members. We raid usually twice a week, and generally pop into Stygia to medically euthanase the likes of The Undeadites, Nightmares, or Damned Librarians. When roused, we occasionally do major surgery on patients in factions bigger and/or further away, like The Scourge, The Phoenix, or Fight Club. Our main nemesis is The Scourge, although several factions come to get us more infrequently.
ID is a member of the Harper Island League.
[edit] Where are we? What are we doing now?
What are we doing now? Well we'll either be hitting stuff or healing stuff, pretty much. You need a bit of hitting or healing done, then hey good one, pop into the nearest Hospital (Harper General) and we'll heal you up. Or we'll hit you. Or maybe we'll hit you, then heal you, then hit you some more. Or we might just kill you, it's difficult to tell what with all teh whimsy floating about in the Nexus. Mainly it helps if you're name's written in a happy colour when we're searching in there.
If you want to join iD, we're an open faction. Just send us a message. As long as you're not an arsehole you'll fit in. We're not very hierarchical, frequently undertake the odd mission, and we're pretty good at helping each other out.
[edit] We're Invisible Danger; who the f*** are you?
Want to be friends? Allies? Talk to us. We've got an open public forum, and a private forum for faction members at:
