O troubled ones. Let us rejoice with slashing glee!
Yea, sayeth the bearded one of blades to thee, I tell thee truthfully that the Church of Patches has opened Its doors and is welcoming new brethren into its alliance. Cigars not provided.
Welcome, brother OTERSEY, to the Church of Patches. Thou hast been found worthy in the eye of the Patch’d One.
Indeed, we shall spread the good word of strike tile to the four quarters of the realm. I am heartened to witness the purity of thine faith and thine understanding of our most sacred iconography. Bloodied be thy journeys, fellow traveller.
While one’s Church may in the temporal and spatial sense be, at this juncture, full, there may still be unbelievers who find themselves cast from our graces. The spittle yet forms on the lips of the Patch’d One as he examines these converts from ill-begotten Thor, beggar-god of dunder.
If thou wouldst join us, beseech our mercy with thine worthy traits below. The benevolence of blades may yet be bestowed upon thee…
May thine feral eyes never fail thee, and may the slivers of moonlight that shine from your most assur’d claws slaughter thine enemies in the depths of night. Let the hot wash of their blood signal thy coming. Praise be to the patch’d one!
I come here humbly seeking a home. My patch has ascended 128 times and until now cuts with no purpose. While the congregation is full I believe the message could be further spread through my claws. Though all converts should be welcome, the church should not be led by those just learning the doctrine. The black widow adds venom to my cuts and when foes seem all but immune the god Loki provides protection until the blood flows.
I wait patiently until my role within the organization is defined and look forward to teaching new members how survive the release of their rage.
Indeed, welcome to our humble sanctum, Arogntbastrd–thou hast found thine home.
Conserve thy vowels–hallowed be the screams of thy foes, the depths of their despair finding no lexical purchase amidst their broken, guttural cries.
As thine enemies fall before thee, let the glory of thine name expand even as thine mighty claws cause the exultations of their distress to be cut short. And as they bleed out their final, pathetic syllables, let their ultimate exhortation be the smallest bubble of their bloodied, monosyllabic homage to thee: ‘bub’.
Let the blood of your enemies is always will be fresh.
And godlike green always dominate over godless purple,
And the red flows big full river like death screams of not patch’d ones.
For Berserker Rage and Healing Factor.
Best There Is.
So, the greedy gods of the 3 Ds require more tithes of our hard-earned blood and gold if we wish to grow our Church.
We must slay more Thors for their shiny trinkets, that we may melt their weak metals into the currency of the Gods.
So saying, I will welcome to our Church any convert who wishes to pay the appropriate tithe to further our Church’s aims. Thou mayest contact me on this ‘board’ or by private courier.
Now, I return to hunting the Thors that befoul our fellow Patches in this ‘tournament’.
The path to enlightenment is paved with the blood of the innocent and paid for with sweet sweet hp.
If thy blade is swift and you wish to help spread our message, make your case before the elders and if you are found to be worthy I will provide conditional entry to the church as you prove your conviction.
Path of strikes is only one which I enjoy, for path of stun is weak and path of thunder slow and unreliable. I seek shelter here, but will you let me take place among you?
