"Verily in the year before the Millenium it came to pass that the Gods didst not see eye to eye. A great falling out between the gods didst happen. Many perhaps were the causes, yea, much gnashing of teeth and tearing of rament was heard. AGW was filled with attacks & counter attacks. Thunder & lightning filled the Unfriendly Skies (tm) and it was not good.
It came to pass that the Great Lord HT did release Warbirds to a destroyer greater even than BillGatesebub to be known as iEN. Much doom was fortold, and much doom has come true. The dweebs didst shudder & quake with fear.
And in time it came to pass that even those who worked for the corporate bosses in the Hot Lands didst come to the point where they said no more. These were the rifts that have devided the once united into three. And the Three shall never more be ONE! As the Gods have been split into three, so also did the dweebs cast about. Some into one camp didst leave with much shakeing of dust, and many angry posts. Others stand fast and point to WB III ever on the horizon.
iEN which tho it art spelled with but a small I is really about the BIG I,fussed much and accomplished little in the comeing year. Verily they give little yet prattle on about the heavenly WB III. Truly nothing seems sacred or holy to them, and they even didst have the gall to force connect via the iLZ foulness. Verily these were the darkest of dark days when friend turned against friend.
HT & Pyro, whom it seemed had forsaken us all, didst at last unveil their master plan.
With just 5 others HT worked long and hard. Great magicks didst they call down, long and hard did they labour, Nay STILL labour.
Aces High didst they call it, and build it well they did. Though incompletith it was, yeah, still some say is. Yet it gave the dweebs much that they had cried for in the old days.
Open beta arrived with a thunderclap and a flourish. Flat rate priceing they proclaimed,
and the Millenium was ushered in with fanfair and dreams of new flight models.
Still I have notyet spoken of the 3rd, those who were told they musteth pick up all they had and move to the tarheel country. They who rightously rose up and said nayeth to the iEN.
Many moons have they labored also, many have been those who can be found in their camp. Yet still they have not controled the magic, nor released even a beta. Yet the hopes of many dweebs follow this star. Great promises have they made, and much talk of war in all it's shapes.
Three are the great stars in the heavens, and their number is three. Three are the boards where the devout gather to talk. Each sayith they follow the one true faith. Yet each is but a part of what once was.
Many are those who still pay by the hour, and do cast covetous glances at the heavens. Yet stubborn are they also, determined to see the promised land of WB III. Verily they say they are just as many as they ever were. Yet I must beg of them one question. On thy honor, where haveth thine VETS gone?
Many are there also who revel in the new world created. Forsooth the grass is greener on the other side. The hills lush and sweet. Clouds dost drift hitther & yon and it is good. Many have come here from the OLD wars of AW, verily from all walks of life do they come in never ending stream to partake of 2 weeks of bliss!
Here may be found more old vets in one place than any have seen before. As as wouldst be expected, every hair is split thrice & thrice again. Yet the shadow remains in the deepest corners. What of Playnet, what magics do the rats do in their secret caves.
Yet the faithfull followers of HT and his band are rewarded often for thy faith. Many features are released, yea even tanks doth now crawl upon the ground. Even now they wait for the latest improvments promised by pyro.
Truly, the once promised STRAT doth exist, and grows ever stonger. New planes with new attributes are delivered often.
Many times hast I cast the runes of fortune, yet unclear the path yet lies. Enough verily to put away such worries for the time. Enjoy ever sunrise and sunset, throw caution to the winds and enjoy today. For truly, who knows what the morrow brings, feast or famine.
