Searching for old alliances and the Black Pirates

Angodude

Hekatontarch

The Wrath of the Golden Ogre​

As sung by seers and oracles wise,
The golden ogre's wrath would rise.
FutbolTango's crew, with hearts so bold,
Would face the fury, as foretold.

Futboltang raided and revolted towns with stealthy might,
Beneath the moon's celestial light.
With ports now sacked and cities torn,
A vengeful roar from the golden ogre through lands was borne.

The golden ogre, angered deep,
Awoke from ancient, cursed sleep.
His mercenaries swift did come,
With fury fierce, like beating drum.

FutbolTango and his men of fame,
Returned to rest, their bounties claimed.
But rest was brief, and peace was short,

For ogre's wrath would cut support.
A clash ensued at dawn's first break,
A battle fierce, with no mistake.
Thousands fell to spear and sword,

As golden ogre's army roared.
Fifty thousand bodies rom the ogre's army lay,
Soulless on that dreadful day.
From dawn to dusk, the carnage spread,
Till earth was stained with hues of red.

Yet bravery marked FutbolTango's fall,
With gallantry, he faced the thrall.
Though numbers vast did press and swarm,
He stood his ground amidst the storm.

One last ship, with treasures vast,
Sailed away, the die was cast.
To fight again another day,

When dawn would break with hopeful ray.
The legend true, the ogre's might,
With gold, revived to endless fight.
His fury knew no bounds, nor end,
As waves of troops, his gold would send.

Insane attacks and endless war,
Where skill and honor meant no more.
To each their fate, their destiny,
In lands where gods decree.

So sing, O Muse, of days now gone,
When battles fierce from dusk till dawn.
Of FutbolTango’s final stand,
A hero's tale in distant land.

Though peace is fleeting, war is long,
His name endures in epic song.
And golden ogre’s legend grim,
Shall haunt the dreams of future kin.
Never bring a bard to the battlefield i guess :O Hope we see more off you tango easy target
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch

The Delight of FutbolTango​

Do not worry for FutbolTango’s fate,
For in one day, his gains were great.
More than thrice the points he claimed,
A victory in battles famed.

A city lost for fifty thousand battle points,
A triumph rich in legends’ lore.
Revolting, agitating the ogre's might,
Is a priceless feat, a shining light.

With every clash and every fight,
Futbol danced with fate through day and night.
To stir the beast, to earn his ire,
Is a reward that heroes inspire.

So sing of joy, not sorrow’s lay,
For FutbolTango's valiant day.
In victory sweet, in battles grand,
He left his mark upon the land.

And know this truth, his spirit strong,
FutbolTango shall return ere long.
To revolt and provoke the ogre again,
With fire in heart and steadfast men.

So lift your hearts and sing his name,
For FutbolTango, in the game,
Has earned his place in epic song,
Where legends of his deeds belong.
 

Angodude

Hekatontarch

The Delight of FutbolTango​

Do not worry for FutbolTango’s fate,
For in one day, his gains were great.
More than thrice the points he claimed,
A victory in battles famed.

A city lost for fifty thousand battle points,
A triumph rich in legends’ lore.
Revolting, agitating the ogre's might,
Is a priceless feat, a shining light.

With every clash and every fight,
Futbol danced with fate through day and night.
To stir the beast, to earn his ire,
Is a reward that heroes inspire.

So sing of joy, not sorrow’s lay,
For FutbolTango's valiant day.
In victory sweet, in battles grand,
He left his mark upon the land.

And know this truth, his spirit strong,
FutbolTango shall return ere long.
To revolt and provoke the ogre again,
With fire in heart and steadfast men.

So lift your hearts and sing his name,
For FutbolTango, in the game,
Has earned his place in epic song,
Where legends of his deeds belong.

The Swagger of Ango

Fear not for Ango’s daring spree,
For in one day, his gains were free.
More than thrice the wealth he snared,
In battles fought and dangers dared.
A city lost, yet wealth amassed,
Fifty thousand points surpassed.

With skills so sharp and arm so straight,
He sealed FutbolTango’s fate.
Revolting against ogres' might,
Ango shone as day through night.

His luck and charm, a wild dance,
Each clash and fight, a fateful chance.
With Buck and Spartan by his side,
In every fight, their fates collide.

Buck’s strength and Spartan’s keen insight,
Together faced the longest night.
Cool and sexy, Ango’s game,
He stirred the world and earned his fame.

Provoking beasts with bitches’ bucks,
In every turn, he pressed his luck.
So raise a cheer, no sorrow’s call,

For Ango’s triumph over all.
In victory bold, in battles sweet,
He claimed the land beneath his feet.

Remember this, his spirit fierce,
Ango’s prowess none can pierce.
To stir the beast and shake the throne,
With heart ablaze, he stands alone.

But not alone, with friends so true,
Buck’s power and Spartan’s view.
Together forged a legend bright,
Their deeds will echo through the night.

So sing their names, lift voices high,
For Ango’s legend in the sky.
In epic tales, their deeds will stand,
Where heroes rule and gods command.

FutbolTango's sleep was no retreat,
For Ango’s fire can’t be beat.
With Buck and Spartan at his side,
Their mark is left, their fame worldwide
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch
Oh, what heights of grandeur, we must discuss, For Ango’s feats, let’s make quite the fuss. But wait, dear reader, let’s not be blind, For in the swagger, some jest we’ll find.

The noble Ango, with swagger so grand, Has wealth in his pocket, a sword in his hand. Yet strip away the Tango’s T, my friend, What’s left is but Ango, let’s not pretend.

For who needs a T when dancing with fate, In battles and clashes, he’s never late. Without it, he’s just Ango, plain and clear, Swaggering about with a smirk and a sneer.

Oh, his luck, his charm, his wild, wild dance, Is it skill or mere happenstance? For in the epic of his tale so bold, The missing T’s worth its weight in gold.

Buck and Spartan, his loyal crew, In this saga, what’s their value, true? For Ango without the T, just Ango he’d be, A hero of sorts, but not quite the spree.

Provoking beasts with nary a care, Is it bravery or just a flair? Cool and sexy, they shout and they cheer, But where, oh where, is the T to revere?

FutbolTango’s fate was sealed, they say, By Ango’s daring on that fateful day. Yet in the grand tales of Homer’s might, Would Ango without his T be a sight?

In epic battles, he might make his stand, But would Plato or Socrates lend a hand? For wisdom and wit, they might jest, Ango’s just Tango with the T at rest.

So sing their names, lift voices high, But remember, dear reader, with a wry eye, That in the legend of Ango’s fame, The missing T might be the real game
 

Angodude

Hekatontarch
Oh, what heights of grandeur, we must discuss, For Ango’s feats, let’s make quite the fuss. But wait, dear reader, let’s not be blind, For in the swagger, some jest we’ll find.

The noble Ango, with swagger so grand, Has wealth in his pocket, a sword in his hand. Yet strip away the Tango’s T, my friend, What’s left is but Ango, let’s not pretend.

For who needs a T when dancing with fate, In battles and clashes, he’s never late. Without it, he’s just Ango, plain and clear, Swaggering about with a smirk and a sneer.

Oh, his luck, his charm, his wild, wild dance, Is it skill or mere happenstance? For in the epic of his tale so bold, The missing T’s worth its weight in gold.

Buck and Spartan, his loyal crew, In this saga, what’s their value, true? For Ango without the T, just Ango he’d be, A hero of sorts, but not quite the spree.

Provoking beasts with nary a care, Is it bravery or just a flair? Cool and sexy, they shout and they cheer, But where, oh where, is the T to revere?

FutbolTango’s fate was sealed, they say, By Ango’s daring on that fateful day. Yet in the grand tales of Homer’s might, Would Ango without his T be a sight?

In epic battles, he might make his stand, But would Plato or Socrates lend a hand? For wisdom and wit, they might jest, Ango’s just Tango with the T at rest.

So sing their names, lift voices high, But remember, dear reader, with a wry eye, That in the legend of Ango’s fame, The missing T might be the real game



Ango and Tango: A Tale of Contrasts​

Oh, what heights of grandeur we must discuss,
For Ango’s feats, let’s make quite the fuss.
Tall and charming, with a swagger so grand,
A magnet for chicks, with wealth at hand.

Ango strides with a smirk and a sneer,
Cool and sexy, he has nothing to fear.
His adventures, legendary, his prowess clear,
In every battle, he is the one to cheer.

Now meet Tango, Ango’s feeble twin,
Frail and fickle, lacking the win.
Into men, and that’s perfectly fine,
But it’s his weakness that draws the line.

Tango’s frail, with a quivering stance,
In the shadow of Ango, he has no chance.
His feebleness, the true issue at play,
Not his love for men, but his lack of sway.

Where Ango conquers with charm and might,
Tango falters, a pitiful sight.
Slimy, sticky, not cool or grand,
A mere reflection in Ango’s command.

With every step, Ango conquers all,
While Tango stumbles, destined to fall.
Cool and sexy, Ango's the star,
Tango's just not in the same par.

So sing of Ango, tall and grand,
With women flocking, a sword in hand.
Remember Tango, the weaker twin,
It's his frailty, not his kin.

For in this saga of contrasts bold,
Ango's greatness is retold.
And Tango's tale, a lesson to see,
The cool and the not, forever shall be.
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch
The Dare of FutbolTango to Angodude
Molon labe (Ancient Greek: μολὼν λαβέ, romanized: molṑn labé), meaning 'come and take them]'
Come and get me if you can? You have until Friday.



Oh, Angodude, thou hero so grand,
With a swaggering stride and sword in hand.
Yet wherefore dost thou hide in fright, '
Neath the skirts of the golden ogre’s might?

Come forth, brave one, if brave thou be,
And let thy deeds be plain to see.
For puny are the jests and taunts,
That fall from lips which courage haunts.
In battles fought and dangers dared,

It seems thy heart is ill-prepared.
To face a foe who stands alone, Not cowering 'neath an ogre’s throne.
Without thy T, thou art but plain,
A hero lacking all the same.

Come, Angodude, and show thy worth,
Prove thy mettle, shake the earth.
But if thou fearest, stay ye there,
And cower in the ogre’s lair.
For in the end, it’s plain to see,

Thy valor’s but a fantasy.
So rise, or stay, the choice is thine,
But know this truth, oh friend of mine:
Until thou standest on thine own,
Thy fame shall never be well-known.

For heroes bold do not retreat,
Nor hide from foes they dare to meet.
So if thou art as brave as told,
Come forth, Angodude, let’s be bold.
With arm and skill, and heart so true,

Show the world what thou can do.
Or stay beneath the ogre’s care,
And prove thy name, a hollow glare.
In epic tales, let deeds be shown,
Not shadows cast from others’ thrones.

So face me now, and prove thy fame,
Or wear the shame of a tarnished name.
As Leonidas said to Xerxes bold,
The Persian king with dreams of gold,

“Molon labe,” come and get me,
If courage stirs thy heart so free.
 

Angodude

Hekatontarch
The Dare of FutbolTango to Angodude
Molon labe (Ancient Greek: μολὼν λαβέ, romanized: molṑn labé), meaning 'come and take them]'
Come and get me if you can? You have until Friday.



Oh, Angodude, thou hero so grand,
With a swaggering stride and sword in hand.
Yet wherefore dost thou hide in fright, '
Neath the skirts of the golden ogre’s might?

Come forth, brave one, if brave thou be,
And let thy deeds be plain to see.
For puny are the jests and taunts,
That fall from lips which courage haunts.
In battles fought and dangers dared,

It seems thy heart is ill-prepared.
To face a foe who stands alone, Not cowering 'neath an ogre’s throne.
Without thy T, thou art but plain,
A hero lacking all the same.

Come, Angodude, and show thy worth,
Prove thy mettle, shake the earth.
But if thou fearest, stay ye there,
And cower in the ogre’s lair.
For in the end, it’s plain to see,

Thy valor’s but a fantasy.
So rise, or stay, the choice is thine,
But know this truth, oh friend of mine:
Until thou standest on thine own,
Thy fame shall never be well-known.

For heroes bold do not retreat,
Nor hide from foes they dare to meet.
So if thou art as brave as told,
Come forth, Angodude, let’s be bold.
With arm and skill, and heart so true,

Show the world what thou can do.
Or stay beneath the ogre’s care,
And prove thy name, a hollow glare.
In epic tales, let deeds be shown,
Not shadows cast from others’ thrones.

So face me now, and prove thy fame,
Or wear the shame of a tarnished name.
As Leonidas said to Xerxes bold,
The Persian king with dreams of gold,

“Molon labe,” come and get me,
If courage stirs thy heart so free.

You have until Thursday how about that​

Angodude's Epic Response to FutbolTango​

Oh, FutbolTango, with your words so grand,
You challenge me, yet fail to understand.
In my wake, legends and tales do flow,
A testament to the skill I bestow.

Thou taunt with words, yet hide the truth,
That within your heart lies timid youth.
For who is it that trembles in the night,
Dreaming of the day they face my might?

Angodude's Skill and Valor​

My sword is swift, my aim is true,
In battles, I rise, where others rue.
Not in shadows, nor in fear,
But with honor, I draw near.

FutbolTango's Fears Unveiled​

Tango, oh Tango, let us be clear,
It is you who harbors the fear.
You speak of courage, yet cannot see,
The bravery that resides in me.

For thou art known to flee and hide,
When battles turn the shifting tide.
Though your heart does warmly sway,
Your love for men is perfectly okay.

The Truth of Bravery​

For heroes do not simply boast,
They stand their ground, they take the most.
In epic tales, their deeds do shine,
While cowards whisper, “Thou art mine.”

Angodude's Challenge​

So come forth, Tango, if thou art brave,
Show the world the valor you crave.
But know this, as the truth will tell,
In your heart, it’s fear that dwells.

For Angodude stands strong and tall,
With skill unmatched, he conquers all.
So heed my words, and face your fate,
Or hide in shadows, it’s not too late.

Conclusion​

With arm and might, and heart so pure,
I’ll show the world my victory sure.
And as for you, FutbolTango, see,
Your bravado hides your frailty.

For love is love, and that’s okay,
But it’s your cowardice that leads you astray.
So rise and fight, or stay ye low,
The true hero’s path, you’ll never know.
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch

You have until Thursday how about that​

Angodude's Epic Response to FutbolTango​

Oh, FutbolTango, with your words so grand,
You challenge me, yet fail to understand.
In my wake, legends and tales do flow,
A testament to the skill I bestow.

Thou taunt with words, yet hide the truth,
That within your heart lies timid youth.
For who is it that trembles in the night,
Dreaming of the day they face my might?

Angodude's Skill and Valor​

My sword is swift, my aim is true,
In battles, I rise, where others rue.
Not in shadows, nor in fear,
But with honor, I draw near.

FutbolTango's Fears Unveiled​

Tango, oh Tango, let us be clear,
It is you who harbors the fear.
You speak of courage, yet cannot see,
The bravery that resides in me.

For thou art known to flee and hide,
When battles turn the shifting tide.
Though your heart does warmly sway,
Your love for men is perfectly okay.

The Truth of Bravery​

For heroes do not simply boast,
They stand their ground, they take the most.
In epic tales, their deeds do shine,
While cowards whisper, “Thou art mine.”

Angodude's Challenge​

So come forth, Tango, if thou art brave,
Show the world the valor you crave.
But know this, as the truth will tell,
In your heart, it’s fear that dwells.

For Angodude stands strong and tall,
With skill unmatched, he conquers all.
So heed my words, and face your fate,
Or hide in shadows, it’s not too late.

Conclusion​

With arm and might, and heart so pure,
I’ll show the world my victory sure.
And as for you, FutbolTango, see,
Your bravado hides your frailty.

For love is love, and that’s okay,
But it’s your cowardice that leads you astray.
So rise and fight, or stay ye low,
The true hero’s path, you’ll never know.
The Fallacy of Angodude
Oh, Angodude, with boasts so grand,
You claim dominion over land.
Yet when we seek the deeds you've spun,
We find you, sir, are none but one.
In shadows dark, you hide and scheme,
A hero in your wildest dream.
For who was it that quaked in fright,
When FutbolTango stood to fight?

The Swagger of Angodude
My sword is swift, my aim is true,
So oft you say, yet where's the proof?
For in the fray, when swords do clash,
Your mettle crumbles into ash.

FutbolTango's Unyielding Defense
Tango, oh Tango, let us be clear,
It is Angodude who falters here.
You speak of valor, yet can't see,
The strength that lies in humility.
For you, with numbers, strength, and might,
Still failed to conquer in the fight.
Though you came with pride and boast,
Your hollow threats did matter most.

The Illusion of Bravery
For heroes walk with actions bold,
Not tales in taverns often told.
They stand their ground and face the foe,
While cowards from the battlefield go.


FutbolTango's Unbroken Resolve
So hear this call, Angodude, brave,
Show the valor that you crave.
But know the truth, and let it be,
Your boasts reveal your frailty.

The Pyrrhic Fall
With every charge, your forces fell,
Your pyrrhic victories, tales do tell.
For though you claimed the field that day,
'Twas FutbolTango who held sway.
In ancient lore, as Plato taught,
True justice in the heart is sought.
And you, Angodude, with empty roar,
Failed to find what heroes bore.

The Verdict of History
So let the ancients speak through me,
In this poetic decree: That Angodude, with talk so grand,
Could never claim the higher hand.
FutbolTango’s courage stands revealed,
In every clash, on every field.
While you, in shadows, skulk and hide,
Your empty boasts are cast aside.

The Challenge Remains
For as Leonidas dared to say,
"Molon labe," come today.
If courage stirs within your heart,
From shadows dark, you must depart.
But know this truth, oh boastful friend,
In just battle, stories end.
And history's pen writes clear and true,
That FutbolTango bested you.

so come and get me if you dare..
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch
The Vigil of FutbolTango
By the sea, in shadows deep, FutbolTango’s warriors keep,
Their vigil through the darkest night, Awaiting dawn’s first glimpse of light.
From battles fierce with SpartanAD, They earned their points, as one can see,
To found six cities, proud and bright, Yet camp they did, by starlight’s might.

In whispered tales, the warriors spoke, Of battles won and oaths they broke,
For FutbolTango’s fame had grown, In every clash, his might was shown.
But midst this pause, in peaceful guise, FutbolTango sought a rare prize,
The Nymph of River, pure and fair, Whose grace and charm beyond compare.

He left his camp by night’s embrace, To find the Nymph, her secret place,
Yet what he found, a bittersweet tale, Her river’s fate, a conqueror’s trail.
For stooges came with stealth and might, And claimed the river in darkest night,
The Nymph’s domain now theirs to hold, A tale of cunning and conquest bold.

With heart so heavy, back he came, To tell his troops of river’s shame,
Yet in his eyes, a fire burned bright, For battles new and coming fight.
Though saddened by the Nymph’s lost grace, A smile crept upon his face,
For Stooges, allied in the fight, Had shown their cunning, their skill, their might.

“Stand tall, my friends, by sea so grand, For we shall strike and take this land,
Though Stooges now the river claim, Their cunningness upholds our name.”
And so they camped, in vigil true, With stars above and ocean’s hue, FutbolTango’s might, a rising tide,
To reclaim what was denied. For in the dawn, with sword and shield, His army’s skill would be revealed,
And allies, who in shadows crept, Had earned their conquest dearly kept.
By sea and night, their legend grows, Of FutbolTango, who faced his foes,
With honor, skill, and heart so pure, His name in Grepolis history shall endure.
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch

The Night of Rest and the Tale of Dusy44ace

Beneath the celestial canopy of the moon, fair and full, the warriors of Futboltango lay upon the verdant meadows, their eyes turned skyward to the constellations that glittered like the armor of gods. The air was cool, and the gentle whispers of the night embraced them, as if the very earth sang a lullaby to the weary souls.

The brave troops, weary yet resolute, had recently risen against their oppressors, setting the coastal towns of the Swedish Mafia ablaze in a fiery revolt. The flames that licked the night sky were now but embers in their minds, a testament to their indomitable spirit and fierce quest for justice. With their enemies' strongholds reduced to ashes, they found solace under the gentle caress of the celestial moon.

Gathered around the flickering fires, the troops recounted the sagas of old, weaving tales of gods and heroes with the threads of their voices. One spoke of mighty Zeus, ruler of the heavens, whose thunderbolts shook the peaks of Olympus. Another recounted the wisdom of Athena, patron of their city, whose strategies turned the tide of many a battle. Laughter mingled with reverence as they spoke of Dionysus, god of wine, and his revelries that made men forget their sorrows.

In this moment of peace, a solitary figure approached, his silhouette framed by the glowing moon. It was a herald, breathless and wide-eyed, carrying tidings from distant lands. The flames danced in his eyes as he began to speak, and the warriors of Futboltango fell silent, eager for news from afar.

“Listen, oh valiant sons of Futboltango,” he proclaimed, his voice strong and clear. “I bring news from the distant lands of Zesty, where the brave commander Dusy44ace has wrought a victory to be sung through the ages. Deep within the heart of Zesty's domain, a city once shrouded in chains has been liberated by his hand. With the prowess of a lion and the wisdom of Athena herself, he led his troops through peril and strife.”

The soldiers leaned closer, their eyes bright with curiosity and pride, as the herald continued his tale.

“The walls of the city, once thought impregnable, fell before the might of Dusy44ace and his loyal band. The citizens, long oppressed, now dance in the streets, their hearts overflowing with gratitude and newfound freedom. No longer are they bound by the tyranny of Zesty; their shackles lie broken at their feet.”

A murmur of admiration rippled through the ranks. The herald, sensing their desire for more, pressed on with his story.

“Even now, the forces of Zesty falter within their own lands, their resolve weakened, their spirits dim. They tried and failed to reclaim what was lost, and even the mighty Spartanad, whose strength is said to rival that of Heracles, could not breach the stout walls. Despite all their might, they have been thwarted, their pride diminished.”

The troops of Futboltango cheered, their voices echoing across the plain, mingling with the cries of night birds and the whispers of the wind. The stars seemed to shine brighter, as if the gods themselves blessed this moment of triumph.

“But we must not rest on our laurels,” the herald urged, his voice growing solemn. “Let us offer prayers to the gods, that they may continue to favor our cause. May Zeus, in his wisdom, guide our steps. May Athena, with her strategic mind, illuminate our path to victory. And may we, the warriors of Futboltango, press on into the heart of Zesty, liberating towns and putting an end to the reign of Spartanad.”

The men nodded in agreement, their hearts filled with determination. The fires burned low as they raised their hands to the heavens, invoking the blessings of the gods. Under the watchful gaze of the moon and the eternal stars, they pledged to carry forth the fight, to spread freedom and to see the might of Zesty and Spartanad crumble before them.

Thus, in the serene embrace of the night, the warriors of Futboltango renewed their vows. With tales of valor and prayers to the divine, they prepared to face the dawn, united in purpose, their spirits undaunted. They dreamed of the victories to come, of the towns yet to be freed from tyranny, and of the powerful Spartanad brought low by their unwavering might.

And so, the saga of their journey continued, etched in the annals of history, a testament to their courage and their unwavering resolve. With every star that twinkled above, the promise of a brighter dawn for the land of Futboltango was reaffirmed, as they forged a path of liberation and justice through the heart of their enemies' realm.
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch

The Night of Triumph and the Savage Ambush

Under the vast expanse of the celestial night, the warriors of Futboltango lay in repose, their hearts and minds alight with the tales of glory and valor. The moon hung low and luminous, casting a silvery glow upon the earth, while the stars, like scattered diamonds, blinked down upon the gathering of battle-hardened souls. The fires flickered and danced, their warm embrace warding off the chill of the night as the troops, seated in a circle, listened intently to the heroic tales of Dusy44ace's triumphs.

The brave troops, weary yet resolute, had recently risen against their oppressors, setting the coastal towns of the Swedish Mafia ablaze in a fiery revolt. The flames that licked the night sky were now but embers in their minds, a testament to their indomitable spirit and fierce quest for justice. With their enemies' strongholds reduced to ashes, they found solace under the gentle caress of the celestial moon.

Gathered around the flickering fires, the troops recounted the sagas of old, weaving tales of gods and heroes with the threads of their voices. One spoke of mighty Zeus, ruler of the heavens, whose thunderbolts shook the peaks of Olympus. Another recounted the wisdom of Athena, patron of their city, whose strategies turned the tide of many a battle. Laughter mingled with reverence as they spoke of Dionysus, god of wine, and his revelries that made men forget their sorrows.

In this moment of peace, a solitary figure approached, his silhouette framed by the glowing moon. It was a herald, breathless and wide-eyed, carrying tidings from distant lands. The flames danced in his eyes as he began to speak, and the warriors of Futboltango fell silent, eager for news from afar.

“Listen, oh valiant sons of Futboltango,” he proclaimed, his voice strong and clear. “I bring news from the distant lands of Zesty, where the brave commander Dusy44ace has wrought a victory to be sung through the ages. Deep within the heart of Zesty's domain, a city once shrouded in chains has been liberated by his hand. With the prowess of a lion and the wisdom of Athena herself, he led his troops through peril and strife.”

The soldiers leaned closer, their eyes bright with curiosity and pride, as the herald continued his tale.

“The walls of the city, once thought impregnable, fell before the might of Dusy44ace and his loyal band. The citizens, long oppressed, now dance in the streets, their hearts overflowing with gratitude and newfound freedom. No longer are they bound by the tyranny of Zesty; their shackles lie broken at their feet.”

A murmur of admiration rippled through the ranks. The herald, sensing their desire for more, pressed on with his story.

“Even now, the forces of Zesty falter within their own lands, their resolve weakened, their spirits dim. They tried and failed to reclaim what was lost, and even the mighty SpartanAD, whose strength is said to rival that of Heracles, could not breach the stout walls. Despite all their might, they have been thwarted, their pride diminished.”

The troops of Futboltango cheered, their voices echoing across the plain, mingling with the cries of night birds and the whispers of the wind. The stars seemed to shine brighter, as if the gods themselves blessed this moment of triumph.

As the night deepened, the soldiers continued to share tales of valor, unaware that far from their restful encampment, SpartanAD and his ally Steingate plotted in the darkness. Their scouts had returned with news of an apparent opportunity: a city left vulnerable, its defenders seemingly absent. Eager to exploit what they perceived as a weakness, they gathered their forces, boasting loudly of the conquest to come, their laughter echoing through the still night air.

“Tonight, we shall seize a city without contest!” declared SpartanAD, his voice filled with arrogant confidence. “The Futboltango forces are nowhere to be seen. This city will fall before us like wheat before the scythe.”

Steingate, his trusted comrade, nodded in agreement. “We shall take it with ease and show them the folly of their ways.”

With hearts filled with overconfidence and eyes blinded by greed, they sent forth a small detachment of troops to test the city’s defenses. The soldiers crept through the streets, their weapons drawn, expecting resistance but finding none. The city lay silent, its gates wide open and its walls unguarded.

“See, my friend,” laughed SpartanAD, “they flee before our might! We shall take this city with little effort.”

Emboldened by their initial success, they sent a second, larger force, expecting to meet resistance, but again they were met with silence. The city remained quiet, its streets empty, its defenders nowhere to be found. The very air seemed to whisper of opportunity, urging them to press their advantage.

“Prepare the main assault!” cried Steingate. “We shall take this city for our own, and Futboltango shall rue the day they left it unguarded.”

Unbeknownst to them, the silence was but the calm before the storm. The city had been left open, not out of neglect, but as a trap laid by the cunning minds of Futboltango’s commanders and their steadfast allies, the Pirates and Buccaneers. These sea-faring warriors, known for their fierce independence and loyalty, had joined forces with Futboltango, their solidarity turning the tide of many a battle.

As SpartanAD and Steingate gathered their full force and marched into the city, their laughter turned to shouts of horror. From the shadows emerged the elite troops of Futboltango and the savage Pirates and Buccaneers, swords gleaming in the moonlight, eyes burning with righteous fury. The trap was sprung, and the once-quiet streets exploded into chaos.

Three great catapult divisions, the pride of SpartanAD’s army, were the first to fall. Their mighty engines of war, capable of hurling destruction upon any foe, were torn apart by a merciless onslaught of Futboltango’s finest, supported by the cunning and ruthless Pirates. Warriors descended upon them like a storm, leaving no stone unturned, no soldier unscathed.

Next came the horsemen, their steeds galloping through the city streets, only to be met by a wall of shields and spears, wielded by the Buccaneers with a ferocity that left no room for mercy. The horsemen nuke, once the pride of Steingate, was obliterated in a brutal clash that left the streets running red with their blood. The hoplites, their ranks unbroken and their hearts filled with valor, marched into a deathtrap from which there was no escape. They were met by a fury of swords and arrows, their formation shattered, their spirits crushed.

The final blow came with the slinger nukes, who, thinking themselves invincible, were caught in a deadly crossfire that left no room for retreat. Their laughter, which had once filled the air with bravado, turned to screams of terror as they were cut down, one by one, by the relentless fury of Futboltango’s warriors and their pirate allies.

The ground shook with the force of the battle, the walls of the city standing witness to the devastation that unfolded. SpartanAD, once so confident in his victory, now stood amidst the wreckage of his forces, his golden army reduced to ashes at the feet of Futboltango’s defenders. His pride lay shattered, his hopes dashed, as he fled the battlefield, his dreams of conquest turned to nightmares of defeat.

In the aftermath of the battle, the warriors of Futboltango stood tall, their hearts swelling with pride and their spirits unbroken. They had faced the might of SpartanAD and Steingate and had emerged victorious, their foes driven from the field, their forces scattered to the winds. The city, once a symbol of vulnerability, now stood as a testament to the cunning and valor of its defenders and the unwavering solidarity of the Pirates and Buccaneers who fought alongside them.

And so, under the celestial night, the warriors of Futboltango offered prayers to the gods, thanking them for their favor and guidance. They vowed to continue their fight, to liberate the lands from the tyranny of SpartanAD and his allies, to bring freedom to the oppressed and justice to the downtrodden. With hearts filled with hope and eyes fixed on the horizon, they prepared for the battles to come, knowing that the gods were with them, their path illuminated by the light of the moon and stars.

Thus, the tale of the savage ambush, of SpartanAD and Steingate's inglorious defeat, was etched into the annals of history. The warriors of Futboltango, their spirits undaunted, looked forward to the dawn, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that their cause was just and their resolve unbreakable.
 

Angodude

Hekatontarch

The Night of Triumph and the Savage Ambush

Under the vast expanse of the celestial night, the warriors of Futboltango lay in repose, their hearts and minds alight with the tales of glory and valor. The moon hung low and luminous, casting a silvery glow upon the earth, while the stars, like scattered diamonds, blinked down upon the gathering of battle-hardened souls. The fires flickered and danced, their warm embrace warding off the chill of the night as the troops, seated in a circle, listened intently to the heroic tales of Dusy44ace's triumphs.

The brave troops, weary yet resolute, had recently risen against their oppressors, setting the coastal towns of the Swedish Mafia ablaze in a fiery revolt. The flames that licked the night sky were now but embers in their minds, a testament to their indomitable spirit and fierce quest for justice. With their enemies' strongholds reduced to ashes, they found solace under the gentle caress of the celestial moon.

Gathered around the flickering fires, the troops recounted the sagas of old, weaving tales of gods and heroes with the threads of their voices. One spoke of mighty Zeus, ruler of the heavens, whose thunderbolts shook the peaks of Olympus. Another recounted the wisdom of Athena, patron of their city, whose strategies turned the tide of many a battle. Laughter mingled with reverence as they spoke of Dionysus, god of wine, and his revelries that made men forget their sorrows.

In this moment of peace, a solitary figure approached, his silhouette framed by the glowing moon. It was a herald, breathless and wide-eyed, carrying tidings from distant lands. The flames danced in his eyes as he began to speak, and the warriors of Futboltango fell silent, eager for news from afar.

“Listen, oh valiant sons of Futboltango,” he proclaimed, his voice strong and clear. “I bring news from the distant lands of Zesty, where the brave commander Dusy44ace has wrought a victory to be sung through the ages. Deep within the heart of Zesty's domain, a city once shrouded in chains has been liberated by his hand. With the prowess of a lion and the wisdom of Athena herself, he led his troops through peril and strife.”

The soldiers leaned closer, their eyes bright with curiosity and pride, as the herald continued his tale.

“The walls of the city, once thought impregnable, fell before the might of Dusy44ace and his loyal band. The citizens, long oppressed, now dance in the streets, their hearts overflowing with gratitude and newfound freedom. No longer are they bound by the tyranny of Zesty; their shackles lie broken at their feet.”

A murmur of admiration rippled through the ranks. The herald, sensing their desire for more, pressed on with his story.

“Even now, the forces of Zesty falter within their own lands, their resolve weakened, their spirits dim. They tried and failed to reclaim what was lost, and even the mighty SpartanAD, whose strength is said to rival that of Heracles, could not breach the stout walls. Despite all their might, they have been thwarted, their pride diminished.”

The troops of Futboltango cheered, their voices echoing across the plain, mingling with the cries of night birds and the whispers of the wind. The stars seemed to shine brighter, as if the gods themselves blessed this moment of triumph.

As the night deepened, the soldiers continued to share tales of valor, unaware that far from their restful encampment, SpartanAD and his ally Steingate plotted in the darkness. Their scouts had returned with news of an apparent opportunity: a city left vulnerable, its defenders seemingly absent. Eager to exploit what they perceived as a weakness, they gathered their forces, boasting loudly of the conquest to come, their laughter echoing through the still night air.

“Tonight, we shall seize a city without contest!” declared SpartanAD, his voice filled with arrogant confidence. “The Futboltango forces are nowhere to be seen. This city will fall before us like wheat before the scythe.”

Steingate, his trusted comrade, nodded in agreement. “We shall take it with ease and show them the folly of their ways.”

With hearts filled with overconfidence and eyes blinded by greed, they sent forth a small detachment of troops to test the city’s defenses. The soldiers crept through the streets, their weapons drawn, expecting resistance but finding none. The city lay silent, its gates wide open and its walls unguarded.

“See, my friend,” laughed SpartanAD, “they flee before our might! We shall take this city with little effort.”

Emboldened by their initial success, they sent a second, larger force, expecting to meet resistance, but again they were met with silence. The city remained quiet, its streets empty, its defenders nowhere to be found. The very air seemed to whisper of opportunity, urging them to press their advantage.

“Prepare the main assault!” cried Steingate. “We shall take this city for our own, and Futboltango shall rue the day they left it unguarded.”

Unbeknownst to them, the silence was but the calm before the storm. The city had been left open, not out of neglect, but as a trap laid by the cunning minds of Futboltango’s commanders and their steadfast allies, the Pirates and Buccaneers. These sea-faring warriors, known for their fierce independence and loyalty, had joined forces with Futboltango, their solidarity turning the tide of many a battle.

As SpartanAD and Steingate gathered their full force and marched into the city, their laughter turned to shouts of horror. From the shadows emerged the elite troops of Futboltango and the savage Pirates and Buccaneers, swords gleaming in the moonlight, eyes burning with righteous fury. The trap was sprung, and the once-quiet streets exploded into chaos.

Three great catapult divisions, the pride of SpartanAD’s army, were the first to fall. Their mighty engines of war, capable of hurling destruction upon any foe, were torn apart by a merciless onslaught of Futboltango’s finest, supported by the cunning and ruthless Pirates. Warriors descended upon them like a storm, leaving no stone unturned, no soldier unscathed.

Next came the horsemen, their steeds galloping through the city streets, only to be met by a wall of shields and spears, wielded by the Buccaneers with a ferocity that left no room for mercy. The horsemen nuke, once the pride of Steingate, was obliterated in a brutal clash that left the streets running red with their blood. The hoplites, their ranks unbroken and their hearts filled with valor, marched into a deathtrap from which there was no escape. They were met by a fury of swords and arrows, their formation shattered, their spirits crushed.

The final blow came with the slinger nukes, who, thinking themselves invincible, were caught in a deadly crossfire that left no room for retreat. Their laughter, which had once filled the air with bravado, turned to screams of terror as they were cut down, one by one, by the relentless fury of Futboltango’s warriors and their pirate allies.

The ground shook with the force of the battle, the walls of the city standing witness to the devastation that unfolded. SpartanAD, once so confident in his victory, now stood amidst the wreckage of his forces, his golden army reduced to ashes at the feet of Futboltango’s defenders. His pride lay shattered, his hopes dashed, as he fled the battlefield, his dreams of conquest turned to nightmares of defeat.

In the aftermath of the battle, the warriors of Futboltango stood tall, their hearts swelling with pride and their spirits unbroken. They had faced the might of SpartanAD and Steingate and had emerged victorious, their foes driven from the field, their forces scattered to the winds. The city, once a symbol of vulnerability, now stood as a testament to the cunning and valor of its defenders and the unwavering solidarity of the Pirates and Buccaneers who fought alongside them.

And so, under the celestial night, the warriors of Futboltango offered prayers to the gods, thanking them for their favor and guidance. They vowed to continue their fight, to liberate the lands from the tyranny of SpartanAD and his allies, to bring freedom to the oppressed and justice to the downtrodden. With hearts filled with hope and eyes fixed on the horizon, they prepared for the battles to come, knowing that the gods were with them, their path illuminated by the light of the moon and stars.

Thus, the tale of the savage ambush, of SpartanAD and Steingate's inglorious defeat, was etched into the annals of history. The warriors of Futboltango, their spirits undaunted, looked forward to the dawn, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that their cause was just and their resolve unbreakable.
"Hey Dusty and company,

Looks like your city has fallen into the hands of Jihad. Must sting knowing your defenses were about as useful as a paper shield. Maybe next time, you'll think twice before underestimating me.

I see Tango over there, our resident bald bard. He's too busy writing love poems to dudes (which is fine by me) instead of actually fighting. But let's be honest, the real issue is he's all talk and no action. Just poems and no punch. Maybe you should hire a new motivational speaker?

And don't think I've forgotten about you, Dusty. Your attempts to stand against me are laughable. Angodude over here is serenading everyone with his victories while you cower in your crumbling forts. Your island will soon be mine, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Prepare yourselves for more losses and humiliation. Jihad is just getting started, and there's no stopping this train.

Tick-tock, my friend. Your time is almost up.

— Jihad, the Unstoppable Conqueror"

1718232403395.png
 

Angodude

Hekatontarch
Dusty's Downfall (Linkin Park Theme)

Verse 1: Dusty, the dirty spammer, always cries,
His attacks are weak, filled with lies.
Sending his troops, but they never land,
Now his cities fall, slipping through his hands.

Pre-Chorus:
Persephone, with no charm to show,
Hides behind software, but we all know,
The puppy guise, it can’t conceal,
Her true nature, so unreal.

Chorus:
Bucks, Spartan, Ango in the lead,
Stein and Zesty, they've got the creed.
Jihadi stands strong, their faith upheld,
Dusty’s tactics old, his dreams dispelled.

Verse 2:
Tobetot’s distracted, caught in a fling,
Sleeping with his boyfriend, no fight left to bring.
Persephone’s mask, crumbling fast,
Her true self revealed at last.

Pre-Chorus:
Dusty, your age won’t save you now,
As your cities fall, take a bow.
Zesty and Ango, with Bucks, Spartan too,
Stein and Jihadi, nothing you can do.

Chorus:
Bucks, Spartan, Ango in the lead,
Stein and Zesty, they've got the creed.
Jihadi stands strong, their faith upheld,
Dusty’s tactics old, his dreams dispelled.

Bridge:
Crying alone, hiding behind the screen,
Dusty’s tactics, weak and obscene.
Persephone’s charm, a mask so thin,
Their downfall’s here, they’ll never win.

Chorus:
Bucks, Spartan, Ango in the lead,
Stein and Zesty, they've got the creed.
Jihadi stands strong, their faith upheld,
Dusty’s tactics old, his dreams dispelled.

Outro:
The battle’s done, the victors clear,
Dusty’s fall, drowned in fear.
Ango, Bucks, Spartan, and Stein’s might,
With Zesty's strength and Jihadi’s light,
They’ve won the war, they own the night.
 

FutbolTango

Taxiarch

The Epic of Futboltango: The Conquest of Illyria​

Canto I: The Voyage of the Hero​

Sing, O Muse, of the brave Futboltango,
Whose might and valor crossed the endless seas,
From lands where Iberia’s sun does glow,
To the misty isles where Aeolus frees.

Upon his ship, blessed by Poseidon’s hand,
He and his troops set sail for distant shore,
To Illyria’s archipelago, grand,
A land of cities, ripe with ancient lore.

Through waves and storms they journeyed undeterred,
Their spirits high, their hearts with courage crowned,
Seeking the wealth of lands with strength unheard,
The treasures of the earth they sought to sound.

Canto II: The Cities of Illyria​

In Illyria’s embrace they did alight,
Where cities shimmered like stars on a plain,
They met no foe, no challenge to their might,
The gates fell open, tribute did they gain.

With ease they sacked the towns, amassed great spoils,
The wealth of Illyria filled their hands,
No army rose, no warrior their toils,
Futboltango’s name spread across the lands.

But in the heart of Illyria’s domain,
There lay a city, proud, with towers high,
There, a surprise awaited in the main,
A challenge met under the azure sky.

Canto III: The Unexpected Resistance​

Amidst the city's splendor, brave they strode,
Yet found resistance fierce, a captain bold,
A duel ensued, the clash of steel bestowed,
'Til she was bested by his grip of gold.

Helmet removed, a face revealed so fair,
Cassandra Xr7irina stood unveiled,
A maiden’s beauty, with dark raven hair,
And emerald eyes, her fate yet unsealed.

Her skin as white as the purest snow,
From Kanina, in ancient days she hailed,
A land now known as Albania, aglow,
With histories where legends never paled.

Canto IV: The Beauty and Valor of Cassandra Xr7irina​

Her hair, a cascade of midnight's embrace,
Flowed like a river, silken, dark, and deep,
A cloak of night that framed her gentle face,
With secrets held in shadows where dreams sleep.

Her eyes, two jewels of verdant hue so rare,
Shone with the light of forests old and wise,
Reflecting depths of love and untamed care,
A mirror to her soul, beyond disguise.

Her skin, as pale as moonlight on the snow,
With hues of alabaster, soft and bright,
A canvas pure where twilight’s whispers blow,
A maiden’s grace within the realm of night.

Futboltango stood, struck by her beauty’s glow,
And by her valor in the face of fate,
A warrior’s spirit in a maiden’s show,
With strength and courage he could not abate.

Canto V: The Revelation and Mercy​

“Who are you, maiden, with such strength concealed?”
Asked Futboltango, stunned by her allure,
“What is thy name, thy purpose thus revealed?
Speak now, thy fate is neither harsh nor sure.”

“Cassandra Xr7irina is my name,
From Kanina’s ancient line I spring,
My husband, Spartan, known for gold and fame,
Is feared afar, his exploits menacing.”

“But love for him resides within my heart,
Though many see his greed and wrathful ways,
I see the man who played a noble part,
His goodness shines through dark and stormy days.”

Futboltango, moved by her tender plea,
And struck by beauty, valor intertwined,
Spared her city, left its walls intact,
For such a soul he could not bear to bind.

Canto VI: The Call to Return​

But as he turned to leave the conquered ground,
A messenger approached with dire news,
His comrade’s call, in pain and sorrow bound,
Beckoned him homeward, no time to lose.

With heavy heart, he bade farewell to her,
The maiden fair whose spirit he revered,
And sailed for home, where duty’s calls confer,
Leaving behind the lands his name endeared.

Thus ends the tale of Futboltango's quest,
Of mercy shown, and beauty pure and bright,
A hero's journey, with love and honor blest,
A story told beneath the starry night.
 
Top