GDT: RAGNARÖKR CLAN SKOGVAKTARE @ CLAN STORMNING AKA GAME 7 NEW YORK RANGERS @ CAROLINA HURRICANES

[MrazeksVengeance]

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN
NAISET JA HERRAT

WELCOME TO F26, IT IS WITH GREATEST PRIDE AND PLEASURE I PRESENT MYSELF AS YOUR HOST FOR TONIGHT.

...
First off, there are some congratulations in order. 2022 worlds are in order.
Finland, I'd say 'tis is your golden age. Have a drink and celebrate, times are shitty enough.
Canada, there is only one matchup where I cheer for you, but your will, determination and mental fortitude come elimination matches is nothing but admirable.
Czech republic, my home. Finally some metal to show. It was a long wait and I shall cherish this bronze. This one is for all the fallen.
USA, until the third period you were medalists with a completely hobbled defense coming from a 4th spot in a group. Then Pasta come with fire and fury. I tip my hat to you as well.
Switzerland, sad end after such a dominant group stage, but it is no question you are one of the top dogs. You will be back. And you won't be denied.
Germany, progress is being made, you are on the right track.
Slovakia, land of my beloved. Your young guns are absolute gems, may they lead you back where you were at the beginning of the century. Where you belong.

Sweden, you fu^ked up. No way around it. Your team imploded in the quarterfinals and your referees messed up the finals.

Am I missing anyone... No, I don't think I am. NOT ONE BIT.
...
NOW FOR THE MAIN EVENT.

A BIT OF A DÉJÀ VU ISN'T IT. ONCE AGAIN, RONGOS AND CANES STAND ON A PRECIPICE. GAME 7. THE PINNACLE OF PLAYOFF HOCKEY. THE END AND THE BEGINNING. THE CHECKING POINT OF THE CYCLE OF LIFE AND DEATH. OF CREATION AND DESTRUCTION.
Once again Bunch of Jerks failed to win a single fu^king road game, while defending their home turf with the same vigor as they did against the Bruins. Once again are eyes of all Rangers upon a European goalie who is saving stuff he shouldn't have right to. Once again both teams die, with one rising again,.. JUST TO FACE NOTHING LESS THAN BACK TO BACK CHAMPIONS WITH THEIR UTTERLY INSANE ROAD RECORD AND INABILITY TO GO ON A DECENT LOSING STREAK FOR ONCE.

Vengeance might be taken tonight... or set to a later date.

Sky may fall. Earth my shatter. Oceans might be vaporized.

BUT I WILL HAVE MY VENGEANCE. THIS GAME OR THE OTHER.

Click to read more...

 

[Surrounded By Ahos]

BEAT

THEY

ASS

 

[MrazeksVengeance]

STRETCHING OUT A FREEZING HAND
I FEEL THE SANDS OF TIME ARE RUNNING
BETWEEN STIFFENED FINGERTIPS
MOCKINGLY THEY DISAPPEAR

ONE CAN'T DEFEAT THE SLIPPING SAND
NONE IS THAT SLY, NON IS THAT CUNNING
I SAW, LIKE CALGARY'S BURNING SHIP
FATE CONSUMED BY EMBERS OF FEAR

DARKNESS PRAYS ON LIGHT OF LIFE
THE GUT OF HATE FOREVER HUNGERS
FOR OBEDIENCE AND FEAR
AND SPIRITS OF THE BLUEBORN MEN

RANGERS ARE MANY, JERKS ARE RIFE
GROWING FATTER, GROWING STRONGER
GATHERING AND CIRCLING NEAR
FROM OUT OF THЕ DARKEST OF DENS
THE DARKЕST OF DENS

RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
SEE THE STARS ARE FALLING
RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
HEAR THE DARKNESS
HEAR THE DARKNESS CALLING

FEAR ITSELF IS A FEARED THING
UNKNOWN DESTINY IS SCARY
NONE KNOWS HOW TO TIE THE LINE
TO PREPARE FOR LURKING STORMS

WHEN ALL COMES TO ITS ENDING
WITH FLORIDA'S END TO KEEP US WARY
WHEN MY BODY STANDS NEXT IN LINE
MY INNER FLAME SHALL KEEP ME WARM
KEEP ME WARM

RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
SEE THE STARS ARE FALLING
RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
HEAR THE DARKNESS
HEAR THE DARKNESS CALLING

RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
SEE THE STARS ARE FALLING
RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
HEAR THE DARKNESS
HEAR THE DARKNESS

RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
SEE THE STARS ARE FALLING
RAGNARÖK, RAGNARÖK
HEAR THE DARKNESS
HEAR THE DARKNESS CALLING

 

[hangman005]

Game 7 kitty returns to give you luck.

 

[MrazeksVengeance]

INSERT VALID MESSAGE

 

[Anton Dubinchuk]

This is fun.

 

[sheriff bart]

Foot to ass
Or
Skate to ass

 

[chaz4hockey]

X Goaltending, our 5 v 5 play has significantly improved over the last two games.

Get a good game by Antii and we will win!!!!!

 

[Tryamw]

Game 7 kitty returns to give you luck.

I love kittens. Be cute.
Now in this game score greasy goals.
And score more then the Rangers

 

[Chrispy]

Game 7? Already??

 

[the halleJOKEL]

5-1 loss

 

[Lempo]

lol Skogvaktare

 

[LostInaLostWorld]

NYR 3
CAR 4

Win pls.

Thx in advance.

 

[Wolfpuck]

On this Memorial Day, may the rongos become only a memory.

 

[Lucky Lindy]

Yeah sure

 

[Summer Rose]

Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.

TRANSMIT - initiate North Carolina signal - RECEIVE - initiate lie-smith frequency - HOT SURFACE: DO NOT TOUCH - initiate the misdirection protocol - WITNESS - The 1712 Fire.

You squint. You strain. Are you trying to see us? Your paleolithic ancestors saw us. They tried to draw our likeness on the cave walls. People in Point Pleasant, West Virginia tried to draw us in 1967, their eyes blistered red from the sight - we tried to warn them of the collapsing bridge. What do we look like? We are in the eye of the beholder, looking out and looking in.

Do not strain too hard, sweetling. Instead, let us warn you of a disaster, three hundred years too late.

Initiate the secret histories.

What is time to us? We stand outside. Everything has happened. Everything is happening. We smell the carbon agony of burnt flesh and hair, and we are there.

It is autumn in the year of the affixed god 1712. Time moves, but the fire moves faster, eating Raleigh - arena and town - church, town hall, tavern, wharf, and housing. Many die from heat. More die from noxious smoke. Children splayed like charcoal drawings.

Time moves - first in shouts, then in crackling. The ashes cool. Witnesses claim to have seen a man or men throwing torches into the warehouse before fleeing. Mysteries wink in the murk of acrid air. The dead are not buried on holy ground, but flung into a mass grave. The citizens count the lost and cry out for justice.

The town council, those who serve the Eye and Pyramid, believe the attack was on them - precious occult archives and artifacts lost. But the citizens must be pacified, they howl like a mass of hungry dogs. These men of illumined influence feed the mob, toss them two harbor workers who are not local, have no family, no one to mourn. The noose hugs their necks. The mob is sated. Tell us, sweetling, which is more disturbing: that the guilty still walk, or that the innocent are so very desperate to kill?

And by and by, the Illuminati were free to conduct the real investigation. They blamed the Templars. That old, comfortable dance. But the children of Eye and Pyramid worship at the altar of practicality more than they bow to the shrine of grudges. Investigation, both mundane and magical, revealed no evidence to damn their ancient enemy.

A new clue. A new trail of illumined thought. A year before the fire, a stranger broke into Solomon Priest's house, trying to steal Illuminati documents. He was dragged away cursing. The eye in the pyramid focused and followed this man. Evicted from North Carolina, he crept south, town to town, along the coast and toward the Spanish colonies, where he faded away.

Out of sight, but not forgotten - in the towns along the coast, people told stories of a foul tempered and arrogant man by the name of Beaumont, who passed through, telling anyone who would listen about "the bastards up in New York" who banished him twice for no reason. Beaumont swore revenge.

Banished twice? This confused the Illuminati. The eldest members of the society remembered a man named Beaumont coming to Greensboro four decades past, yet this most recent Beaumont was not old enough to be him. Once invoked, there is nothing so powerful as the curiosity of the children of Eye and Pyramid.

Initiate the merry chase.

By chance, investigators discover Beaumont still in Greensboro after the fire. The Illuminati observe. He pretends to help dig through the debris, but he searches for something in the ashes. In their midst, he boldly watches those who seek him.

Look, sweetling. See the sleight of hand. Beaumont vanishes before the eyes of some of the most advanced magi of their age. Gone.

Time passes - first in days, then in weeks. There is no sign or mark of passing of Beaumont. Those who seek him may as well try pinching a mischievous thought.

Time passes - first in years, then in decades. What of Beaumont? Not a trace. It will be over a century before he resurfaces in Raleigh.

And what of you, sweetling? Do you think you can catch his sleight?

 

[Lempo]

No, no, don't talk of sleighs to them, they'll mock you.

 

[skipnjump]

Let's win this one, pretty please!!!!!

 

[Summer Rose]

In Raleigh, day fades into night. Endless night. Fans huddle like medieval peasants inside PNC Arena, trying to ignore the yowling shrieks from outside, trying not to think about what moves on the ice surface below them. They mutter words like "Panarin" and "Trouba" and "Shesterkin" while clutching their blood-caked towels. An army of loathsome hungers. Siege looms. War has come. Rod Brind'Amour had a wife named Kelle. They did not live happily ever after. The end. The moral of a story changes depending on where you end it, sweetling. Did you know? Fairy tales become tragedies on the other side of happily ever after.

Now the vampire king of New York leads an unorganized army of rapacious leeches in an attempt to take back the Prince of Wales Trophy. His broodlings migrate from all over the world, summoned by the incestuous beat of their coach's heart. Every period they wash over the ice in a necrotic tide. A new phase in the coach's life cycle begins. Now he has a new army to take back his trophy. The gore-crusted chaos it creates is a means to a vicious end. In the pandemonium, his own blood, his broodlings - powerful and loyal hockey players - will see his designs fulfilled. It was supposed to be easy.

The Rangers outnumber the Hurricanes. They are as strong as hate, skates as sharp as sin. But the heroes returned, those who call themselves the Carolina Hurricanes, and what should have been slaughter, became war. The battle rages on without end. We can read the vibrations. The Rangers have time and stamina as allies. Heavily padded equipment protects them from the puck. The living tire. It is all so inevitable. Gerad Gallant grins. After all, he can always make more children.

Knowledge given is a curse inflicted. Now you know what will happen, sweetling. What will you do about it?

 

[3CanesInTheBox]

Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.

TRANSMIT - initiate North Carolina signal - RECEIVE - initiate lie-smith frequency - HOT SURFACE: DO NOT TOUCH - initiate the misdirection protocol - WITNESS - The 1712 Fire.

You squint. You strain. Are you trying to see us? Your paleolithic ancestors saw us. They tried to draw our likeness on the cave walls. People in Point Pleasant, West Virginia tried to draw us in 1967, their eyes blistered red from the sight - we tried to warn them of the collapsing bridge. What do we look like? We are in the eye of the beholder, looking out and looking in.

Do not strain too hard, sweetling. Instead, let us warn you of a disaster, three hundred years too late.

Initiate the secret histories.

What is time to us? We stand outside. Everything has happened. Everything is happening. We smell the carbon agony of burnt flesh and hair, and we are there.

It is autumn in the year of the affixed god 1712. Time moves, but the fire moves faster, eating Raleigh - arena and town - church, town hall, tavern, wharf, and housing. Many die from heat. More die from noxious smoke. Children splayed like charcoal drawings.

Time moves - first in shouts, then in crackling. The ashes cool. Witnesses claim to have seen a man or men throwing torches into the warehouse before fleeing. Mysteries wink in the murk of acrid air. The dead are not buried on holy ground, but flung into a mass grave. The citizens count the lost and cry out for justice.

The town council, those who serve the Eye and Pyramid, believe the attack was on them - precious occult archives and artifacts lost. But the citizens must be pacified, they howl like a mass of hungry dogs. These men of illumined influence feed the mob, toss them two harbor workers who are not local, have no family, no one to mourn. The noose hugs their necks. The mob is sated. Tell us, sweetling, which is more disturbing: that the guilty still walk, or that the innocent are so very desperate to kill?

And by and by, the Illuminati were free to conduct the real investigation. They blamed the Templars. That old, comfortable dance. But the children of Eye and Pyramid worship at the altar of practicality more than they bow to the shrine of grudges. Investigation, both mundane and magical, revealed no evidence to damn their ancient enemy.

A new clue. A new trail of illumined thought. A year before the fire, a stranger broke into Solomon Priest's house, trying to steal Illuminati documents. He was dragged away cursing. The eye in the pyramid focused and followed this man. Evicted from North Carolina, he crept south, town to town, along the coast and toward the Spanish colonies, where he faded away.

Out of sight, but not forgotten - in the towns along the coast, people told stories of a foul tempered and arrogant man by the name of Beaumont, who passed through, telling anyone who would listen about "the bastards up in New York" who banished him twice for no reason. Beaumont swore revenge.

Banished twice? This confused the Illuminati. The eldest members of the society remembered a man named Beaumont coming to Greensboro four decades past, yet this most recent Beaumont was not old enough to be him. Once invoked, there is nothing so powerful as the curiosity of the children of Eye and Pyramid.

Initiate the merry chase.

By chance, investigators discover Beaumont still in Greensboro after the fire. The Illuminati observe. He pretends to help dig through the debris, but he searches for something in the ashes. In their midst, he boldly watches those who seek him.

Look, sweetling. See the sleight of hand. Beaumont vanishes before the eyes of some of the most advanced magi of their age. Gone.

Time passes - first in days, then in weeks. There is no sign or mark of passing of Beaumont. Those who seek him may as well try pinching a mischievous thought.

Time passes - first in years, then in decades. What of Beaumont? Not a trace. It will be over a century before he resurfaces in Raleigh.

And what of you, sweetling? Do you think you can catch his sleight?

No way we’re losing tonight!

And great GDT as always @MrazeksVengeance .



ETA:

 

[HisIceness]

Win. Just f***ing win. Please.

 

[hblueridgegal]

As it Was in October - Harry please send some of your golden boy success the Canes way today.

 

[VAcaniac]

Of all days, this is the game thats not an afternoon game?! The NHL is just trolling us.

Im going to be trashed by 8ET.

 

[SoupNazi]

Let's

f***ing

Go!

And then win a road game against Tampa.

 

[CanesUltimate11]

And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice
Cry “Havoc!” and let slip the dogs of war.