SECTOR 6

Περιμενα καποιον να ποσταρει για να γραψω επιτελους το πρωτο κεφαλιο.

Δε λυνει αμια απωρεια, απλως σε βαζει μεσα στην πλοκη.

Καλα χρηστιανε μου εισαι καλα?Υπαμε να πεις κατι οχι να γραψεις τα απομνημονευματα του Σταλιν!lol
Θα το διαβασω με την πρωτη ευκαιρια.Αναρωτιεμαι τι εχεις σκαρφιστει παλι.xD

Επιτελους! Τωρα μπορω να ποσταρω την μισοτελειωμενη πρεπει να πω μορφη του πρωτου κεφαλαιου. Ειναι λιγο μεγαλο και απεχει ποοοοοοοοοοοοοοολυ απο να τελειωσει.
Επισης, εχω ριξει πολυ ψαξιμο στη Wiki για να εχω μια δοση ρεαλισμου στο τι γραφω. Μην γραφω αρες μαρες κουκουναρες.

ΣΗΜΕΙΩΣΗ: Ολα τα οπλα που αναφερονται ειναι αληθινα και με τις κανονικες ονομασιες τους.

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There is a man. He is patrolling a corridor on the second floor. He is going up and down the corridor since he stepped his foot inside there. The corridor has beige wallpaper and three paintings. Two of them are Belgian-themed paintings, showing the countryside of Belgium, and the other one is a painting of Dimitri Karnarov, the present leader of Soviet Union. The soviet painting is filled with bullet holes. Beside the two Belgian-themed paintings stands a window, which has a view to the street. That man walked near it and looked out to the street. There was a whole block of police cars in front of the embassy’s entrance. Many policemen were pointing their guns toward it too.

The Russian embassy was seized under the control of “Free Europe”, a British terrorist organization which supported the fall of Communism and the rise of a new European Union, with economical and cultural isolationism from the rest of the world. What they wanted now was the resignation of Belgium’s president and Belgium to break away from Soviet control. Funded by illegal drug dealing and supported by Belgium’s “right movement”, their plans are to free parts of Europe inch by inch, yard by yard. And they had already started. The college students’ movement of February 17th 1999 in Germany was initiated by them. It ended up in a bloodbath. Then the mine workers’ move of 2001 followed in both France and Spain. Nothing happened. Nothing changed. However, “Free Europe” organized a successful raid in a Croatian military base back in 2002. So far, it was their best “success” so far. And today “Free Europe” has seized control of the Russian embassy in Brussels, holding prisoners all the Russian ambassadors inside there and threatening to kill them if their requests are not met until midnight.

That man, who was constantly patrolling that corridor back in the Russian embassy, decided to pull out for a while and smoke a cigar instead. He pulled out from his pocket a packet of cigars. His fingers pulled out one of those cylindrical “tools of absolute pleasure” and put it on his mouth. With his left hand he grabbed his silver lighter, a quite expensive one, which he had won in a cards game, and lighted his cigar. He took a deep breath. “Ahh, they are truly tools of absolute pleasure” he thought. He was lying back on the window, smoking a cigar with his right hand and holding his carbine with his left hand. He looked out of the window. It was raining heavily outside. There were black clouds till the reach of the horizon. Many thunders were echoing from the distance too. “And imagine that they’re saying on the news that the weather will get worse within the next two weeks” he thought and kept chain-smoking.

Then suddenly a bump was heard from the wall he was lying upon. It sounded like a footstep, but who could walk vertically on a wall? He threw his cigar on the floor and armed his gun; he didn’t have time to answer his own questions. The glass broke. A bullet caliber fell down on the floor. The man was lying dead, with a bullet hole in his head, next to his cigar. His killer was outside the window. He was a Sector 6 Special Operations agent. Dressed in black camouflage and with a full balaclava, suitable for night operations, he was holding a smoking SP-10, a Russian-manufactured, high-power pistol, with a silencer mounted on it. “HQ, this is Red 2. Target – hostile – down”, he said. He broke in the room. The glass broken from the window fell on the floor, hitting it and making a characteristic glassy impact sound. His feet touched the floor, destroying every remains of the window, while he was pulling back his pistol and grabbed his main gun: the Soviet made PP-19 SMG, highly modified to meet high Special Forces standards and outfitted with a "Red Dot” scope and a silencer. He touched the wall opposite of the window and checked the room. He looked to the left. No sign of enemies. Then, he looked to the opposite direction. He was alone in that narrow, beige corridor. He relaxed. He grabbed his communication gear and said: “All-clear”. Immediately, two more men appeared from the window and burst inside the corridor. “You took your sweet time comrade Hanley”, one of them said. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment, Keisser”, Hanley replied.
“Cut the chatter”, said the man in front of them, interrupting their “conversation”. Afterwards, he immediately called their HQ and informed they were in.

That man’s name was Henrico Morricone. He was Spanish, former lieutenant of Spain’s Unidad de Operaciones Especiales, the Spanish Special Forces. Top of his class, a good soldier, he was forced to quit the Army after losing almost the entire of his squad in a rescue mission. He used to say that it wasn’t his fault but High Command’s one, because it informed him with wrong information. The High Command was saying that he did not follow exact orders. In order to avoid further conflicts with the Command, Henrico resigned from the army. Some weeks later he was offered to join Sector 6 Special Operations. He accepted the offer as soon as he got it. He was put in charge of Team 4, call sign “Yellow”, and he gained the rank of First Lieutenant. His call sign was “Yellow 1”. His team was made out of him and two more men.

The second-in-charge of “Yellow” Team was Clark Hanley, call sign “Yellow 2”. A proud Californian, Hanley quickly rose through the ranks of the Californian State Army, also referred to as CSA, achieving the rank of Second Lieutenant. In the CSA he was a Special Forces commando and he was described as “one of the best of his kind of soldiers”. He was recruited by Sector 6 shortly as soon as his last mission with the CSA ended back in June 2002.

The last man of Henrico’s squad was Karl Keisser, call sign “Yellow 3”. He was a master of electronic warfare. Born and raised in Eastern Germany, he fought in World War 3 and was awarded several decorations for his in-field action. After the war he ended up a local hero and a factory worker. He soon fed up with working like an average middle-age man and so he quitted from his job. He sent his military record to many Private Military Companies, also known as PMCs, but he was accepted only by “Malakorvich Military Inc”, an Estonian PMC; however he was soon fired because of “lack of leadership”. His record of military experience made Sector 6 getting interested on him by March 2001. He was recruited by Sector 6 later the same year. Due to the fact that he is the oldest man in “Red” Team he is well respected by his comrades… most of the times…

The heavy rain outside was hitting the building hard. The guard was lying dead on the floor. The cigar on the floor was still lighted. It would start a fire if a boot hadn’t stepped on it, “drowning” it and only leaving one small, black pile of dirt on the floor. Henrico turned to Hanley. “Hanley”, he ordered him. “You and Keisser stuck up on the door over there” and he pointed to the door on the left side of the corridor. Keisser rushed to the door. Hanley followed. They reached the wooden door and took positions next to it. Keisser was covering Hanley, while Hanley had removed the optic cable from his backpack, a gadget which had a snake-like form and allowed you to see under tight and narrow places, such as a crack in a stone wall or the space between the floor and the door’s basement. He used it to see what lied behind that door. “I see hostiles, but no hostages”, Hanley informed them. What Hanley was seeing was the dining room. It had two guards which were believed that they were holding the Russian ambassadors hostages inside that room. These two guards were moving up and down the room, watching out for anything that moved and was not friendly. It was quite a large room, with paintings of Brussels back in the early days of the twentieth century. Before the world wars, that didn’t only change the city itself but and the entire globe too. In the center of the room there was a wooden, brown dining table, which was filled with delicious food and wine, but there were no hostages. The white sheet which lied upon the table was filled with some red circles, which were wine marks. On top of the sheet there were candles and the room’s lighting was provided by a huge chandelier. There was one more guard who was standing near the table, probably “drunk” from the smell of the delicious food. He wanted just a bite. A small one was enough for him, but he wasn’t allowed. He had to patrol the room. Sad about not getting the chance to eat he went somewhere else, trying to forget the table and the food. He tried to resist, but it was too hard for him. Just imagine. Imagine a table where one huge cooked pig is lying, escorted by a two-floor, chocolate cakes and fresh bread. The wine follows them, and some roast beef waits in the corner, fresh-cooked, with lemon poured on it and aromatic oils accompanying it. It’s inebriating. Can you resist?

“What are our orders, sir”, Keisser asked. Henrico said it clearly: “Breach, bang and clear”. Keisser was standing left to the door. Henrico took position behind him. Hanley, who was standing right to the door, opened it. Keisser, in a flash, picked up an M84 stun grenade and threw it inside the room. The flashbang, also known as “stun grenade”, is capable of stunning observers with a combination of bright flash and loud report and they are a common grenade among Special Forces units, especially when there are hostages’ situations. The flashbang rolled on the floor, hitting one of the guards’ feet. He felt it and turned to see what it was. Suddenly, the flashbang exploded, creating a small white smoke, which disappeared after a few seconds. However, the guard couldn’t see anything but only a white font and could hear nothing because of the buzzing sounds that were created by the grenade. They were driving him crazy. All guards inside the room were affected by the grenade. Hanley entered the room first. He pulled the trigger two times and two bullets flew toward their target’s destination; the guard who was standing on top of the flashbang’s remnants fell on the floor with a hole in his head and another one in his chest, next to the heart. Keisser followed Hanley and fired a burst of five bullets. Three of them hit the target, which target was the other guard patrolling the room. He fell dead with three holes opened in his stomach, making the blood fall like a river on the floor. Henrico was the last person to enter the room. He fired a single shot. The bullet traveled to its destination, avoiding any possible obstacles that could stand in her way to the victim. The bullet hit the eye of the last guard, exploding it because of the impact. Its remnants fell on the ground, the guard followed. A blood lake was formed the moment he touch the floor, which was provided by the arteries, which in return were providing the missing eye with blood. Keisser moved near the body. He shot two more bullets on it. “What are you doing”, Henrico asked him. “I’m making sure he is dead”, he replied. “But he is dead”, Henrico told him. “This is my rule, the rule that kept me alive in the war”, Keisser justified. “And what is that rule”, Hanley asked him. Keisser turned to him. He walked near him. He whispered two words: “Double-tap”.

Henrico turned to see his watch. It was 2357 hours. The time was running low because if the Belgian president hadn’t resign until that time, two of the hostages would be executed. Henrico turned to Hanley and Keisser. He told them to follow him. They crossed the dining room. They ran toward the ladders, which were leading to the third floor, encountering minimum resistance. It was then when the Headquarters notified them that Team 1, call sign “Blue”, was being deployed from the rooftop. “Hanley”, Henrico said, “go and rendezvous with “Blue” Team, while we will be searching downstairs”. Hanley rushed upstairs, on the third floor, while the rest of “Yellow” Team was heading downstairs. He reached upstairs and stood in front of a quite big wooden door. He used his optic cable to see what was lying under that door. Six of the hostages, all were embassy workers, were inside and they were being kept captured by a team of five “Free Europe” terrorists. There was one more door on the other side of the room and a window on the left side of it. “I just hope “Blue” Team inserts from there”, Hanley hoped. All of a sudden, a weapon armament was heard. Hanley’s blood ran cold. “Stand up” somebody told him. He did so and looked at him. It was a “Free Europe” terrorist. He was holding an M-16 assault rifle with an M203 grenade launcher mounted under the barrel. His face was concealed by a red scarf and he was wearing a green, wooly shirt and a pair of washed-out jeans. He had a pistol in his front pocket, which looked like a .45 caliber pistol, and a second magazine for his rifle in his other pocket. Unlike the terrorists in the dining room, he looked fairly young, like a seventeen year-old boy. “Why was he fighting for something that he knew he couldn’t win”, thoughts like this came to Hanley’s mind, while the terrorist was yielding a gun pointing at his head. He could pull the trigger. But something inside him didn’t let him do it. Soon the terrorist was lying down dead from a bullet hole in his head, between his two eyes and on top of his nose, which bullet came from the other side of the room. Hanley turned to see who his savior was. It was a “Blue” Team member. “You’re okay, Hanley”, he asked him. Hanley recognized that guy. It was Dimitri Petrovich, call sign “Blue 3”. He said yes and asked him what he was doing here. “Well, Hanley, Crunch ordered to climb downstairs and insert via the door we’re standing next to”. Hanley understood. “So, how’s the area inside”, Dimitri asked him. Hanley notified him about the area and afterwards they both stuck up to the door, waiting orders from Crunch.

Crunch was “Blue 1”, the leader of “Blue” Team. A proud Scottish, he joined the SAS back in October 1998. Quickly became a living war-machine and an excellent marksman. When the United Kingdom’s government fell back in July 2002, he was accepted by Sector 6 to become squad leader of Team 1. Despite the fact that he never had any leadership roles, he quickly filled that role with special training given by Sector 6. Now, he was one of the most fearsome commanders in the whole organization. His team, as well as all other teams of Sector 6, consisted of him and two more members.

The second member of Crunch’s team was Pierre Dubbary, call sign “Blue 2”. A former officer of Groupe d'Intervention de la Gendarmerie Nationale, or simply referred to as GIGN, he left the GIGN as soon as Sector 6 was first formed and was looking for recruits. He joined the newly-formed Sector 6 back in its creation date of 1999. His motives of leaving the GIGN and joining Sector 6 were not clear. However, he had excellent mark grades with every weapon and is the longest-serving veteran of the organization.

The last member of “Blue” Team is Dimitri Petrovich. Being the youngest member of the organization, he was entrusted the most daring orders on to him. Instead of heading into the Spetnaz, he was sent by the Russian Government into Sector 6, the same time of year with Pierre. He is still young and, despite the fact that he hasn’t got good enough training, he is a very good demolitions expert.

Crunch gave the go signal. Hanley kicked the door. The wooden door broke, rustling into many tiny pieces and the sound of the door being kicked echoed around the place. The guards were caught unprepared. They ducked down, trying to avoid the incoming fire. Dimitri fired two bursts of five bullets on two of the guards. One of them fell down dead from the bursts, drowned in his own blood, while the second one, although he got wounded in his leg, he was still alive and took cover behind a table, which had been thrown down by a terrorist, creating a small cover. Hanley fired a burst toward the table. The table could not hold the bullets from Hanley’s rifle, making gigantic holes on the table. The ducked terrorist got hit several times from Hanley’s shots. Bleeding and aching, the terrorist fell on the floor, coughing blood and seeing his life setting. There was one more terrorist hiding behind that table. He stood luckier than his friend, avoiding by pure luck all of the bullets fired. It was at that time when Pierre and Crunch made their entry into that room. The window which was on the immediate left of the fallen table was a most unlikely place for someone to enter that room. This does not imply for Sector 6 operatives. Pierre climbed down and shot the ducked terrorist behind the table. After three shots he burst into the room, ultimately destroying the glass from the window, and landing in front of the table. A terrorist, who was standing by the door all that time, waiting patiently for the right time to strike, armed his gun and stood ready to fire at Pierre. If he shot, the bullet would cross the room, reaching Pierre’s eyeball, creating a deadly blood splatter and forcing Pierre to fall down on the floor dead. But he didn’t. He didn’t hurry up enough in order to take the shot. Crunch was climbing second. He saw the shooter and quickly pulled the trigger of his side-arm. The guy fell dead, lying on the floor with a blood lake being formed slowly around him. There was only one “bad guy” left alive. In a state of panic, he grabbed one of the embassy workers. He took his side-arm from his pocket and placed it on the worker’s head. He threatened to kill him if anybody moved. All four Sector 6 operatives were standing still in front of the hostage and the terrorist, pointing their guns at the terrorist and waiting. A few seconds passed but they seemed like hours. Suddenly, Hanley stepped in front of him. The terrorist, distracted from Hanley moving toward him, could not see Dimitri moving behind him. “You know something”, Hanley asked the terrorist. “We do not co-operate with terror. We destroy it”. Dimitri drew his knife and thrust it into the terrorist’s neck. The blood rolled down through his neck, forming a red river. He released the hostage. All six embassy workers were safe at last, after a long, worry night.

Crunch picked up his radio unit. “HQ”, he informed the Command, “the embassy staff is safe. What are our orders?” Shots echoed around the place, M16 ones. “This doesn’t sound good”, Pierre admitted to the rest of the team. Nor the Command did inform either. The shots that echoed through the place were coming from the first floor. “Yellow” Team had been spotted by the enemies. Despite their efforts, Morricone and Keisser didn’t manage to survive the terrorist ambush. The Command ordered Crunch and his team to go and complete “Yellow” Team’s main objective: To rescue the Russian Ambassadors that were captured hostages by “Free Europe”. At the same time, Team 2, call sign “Red”, rappelled down and entered the room via the window. They would escort the embassy staff out of the building. Crunch turned to his team and said to follow him. Then he saw Hanley. “Who the hell are you”, he asked him. “Clark Hanley, call sign Yellow 2”, Hanley replied but he didn’t manage to complete his sentence and he was interrupted by Crunch. “What the… What do you want hear”, he asked him, a bit more angry than before. Hanley explained to Crunch that his leader sent him here to assist him and his team. Crunch could not do else way. “Well, in that case, just watch your ass, mate”, Crunch suggested him. “Blue” Team rushed downstairs.

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Παρακαλω αμα ειναι να αγνοησετε την τελευταια παραγραφο για οποιαδηποτε, μιας και ειναι η τελευταια παραγραφος που ξεκινησα να γραφω και δεν ειναι ολοκληρωμενη.

Κατα τ'αλλα ελπιζω να σας αρεσει!

Ε πες τιποτα βρε revenger!xD

Α, καταλαβα τι εννοεις. Ναι τα λεω λιγο γρηγορα, ειναι αληθεια. Αλλα πιστευω οτι τα εξηγησα ολα μια χαρα εδω:

"...ο πολεμος ξεκινησε γιατι ενας undercover agent των Σοβιετικων, ο Ivan Arnavisca, σκοτωσε τον JFK το 1967. Δηλαδη, αντι να τον σκοτωσει εκεινος ο τυπος που τον σκοτωσε στην πραγματικοτητα, εβαλα στη θεση του εναν ενεργο Σοβιετικο πρακτορα. Απο εκει και περα οι ΗΠΑ κατηγορησαν την Σοβιετικη Ενωση για αυτο, η Σοβιετικοι ονομασαν τον Arnavisca εθνικο ηρωα και οι διαπραγματευσεις που θα γινονταν για να αποτραπει ο πολεμος, ανατιναχτηκαν κυριολεκτικα στον αερα! Ελπιζω να καταλαβες. Επισης, οταν ρωτας γιατι συμβαινουν ολα αυτα, πιστευα οτι το καταλαβες οταν ειπα οτι "η Ευρωπη εγινε σαν τη Μεση Ανατολη". Γιατι συμβαινουν ολα αυτα στη Μεση Ανατολη σημερα; Για λογους οπως η πεινα, η φτωχια, ο εθνικισμος και τα ονειρα καποιων (τρελλων μανιακων) ανθρωπων για εξουσια. Οι καλοι εδω ειναι ο "Τομεας 6" (Sector 6) και οι "κακοι" (το βαζω σε ιδιωματικα γιατι δεν ειναι ποτε ξεκαθαρο αν ειναι πραγματι κακοι ή απλα δειχνουν ετσι) οι τρομοκρατες, ενω οι μεγαλες δυναμεις, η Σοβιετικη Ενωση και η Βαλκανικη Συμμαχια, παιζουν ρολο "κομπαρσων". Κλισε, αλλα ειναι κατι που θα'θελα να προσπαθησω. Και με το "capture" εννοω "seize control of"..."

Ελπιζω να καταλαβαινεις τωρα. Τα factions θα τα αναφερω αλλη φορα.

E γιαυτο σου ζηταω να μου εξηγησεις.Αφου εχεις παρει φορα και λες!!!xD

Tokio, μπερδευτηκα. Απ'τη μια μου ζητας να εξηγησω τα πραγματα, απ'την αλλη μου λες οτι τα λεω πολυ γρηγορα. Ολο το σεναριο βασικα βασιζεται πανω στα αποτελεσματα του Τριτου Παγκοσμιου και ποσο σκ@τ@ εγιναν τα πραγματα μετα απ'αυτον, λογω της αδυναμιας της Ρωσιας να συγκρατησει τα πραγματα. Μετα ερχεται η ιστορια με τον "τομεα 6" (Sector 6), ο οποιος δημιουργηθηκε απο την Ρωσια και τη Βαλκανικη Συμμαχια για να επαναφερει μια ταξη σ'ολη τη φουρτουνα. Αυτην την ιστορια ακολουθειται στο παρων τοπικ. Ισως καποτε δημιουργησω και αλλες ιστοριες με βαση το παρων σεναριο, για παραδειγμα με τον Ιvan Arnavisca, τον εκτελεστη του JFK και τον λογο για τον οποιο ξεκινησε ο Τριτος. Ή μπορει να φτιαξω ολοκληρο το timeline του Τριτου Παγκοσμιου, με ακριβει "ιστορικα" γεγονοτα. Αλλα τωρα ασχολουμαι με τον Τομεα 6. Και για να μπορεσω να ασχοληθω μ'αυτον (και να διαβασετε και εσεις καλυτερα) πρεπει να αναφερω καποια γεγονοτα του τριτου.

Θα ολοκληρωσω σε αλλο ποστ, για να μην ξεπερασω (τι να ξεπερασω δηλαδη, ηδη τα ξεπερασα!) καποια ορια τα οποια ειχα υποσχεθει να μην περασω, γιατι αλλιως θα "κουραζα" (ή οπως αλλιως το λενε) το site, αλλα και για ευταξια, οπως ειπε ο kabamaru. Στο επομενο ποστ λοιπον...

Απλα μου φαινεται πως πετας τα υλικα στη σουπα πολυ βιαστικα.Βεβαια δεν ειναι κακο να θες να μπεις στο ψητο γρηγορα καθως ετσι ειναι το internet αλλα στην περιπτωση ενος βιβλιου ας πουμε,θα ηταν καταστροφικο.Τεσπα ανιπωμονω για τη συνεχεια.xD

OK, ακολουθει ποστ απαντησης:

@ Tilemax: Ουδεν σχολιον στο τελος της πρωτης παραγραφου, και απαντωντας στη δευτερη, απλως μ'αρεσει να τις μιραζομαι μαζι σας, εστω και αν δε σας ενδιαφερουν. Απλως μ'αρεσει να βλεπω καποιους να τους αρεσουν να τις διαβαζουν. Καταλαβαινεις τι εννοω;

@ Mertz: 'νταξει Σουπερ-Μερτζ (που το θυμηθηκα τωρα...), θα τα ποσταρω πλεον σε επεισοδια, ετσι, για να σας κραταω σε αγωνια!

@ Kabamaru: Μπορεις παντα να διαβασεις την καλυτερη δημιουργια μου, το The Perfect Hour! (Koιταξε κατω κατω, καπου που λεει για το "Πρωτο Κεφαλαιο")

@ tokio hotel: Πιστευω οτι η ιστορια για το πως ξεκινησε ο ολος πολεμος αναλυεται στην ιστορια που ποσταρα λιγα ποστς πιο κατω. Λεει οτι ο πολεμος ξεκινησε γιατι ενας undercover agent των Σοβιετικων, ο Ivan Arnavisca, σκοτωσε τον JFK το 1967. Δηλαδη, αντι να τον σκοτωσει εκεινος ο τυπος που τον σκοτωσε στην πραγματικοτητα, εβαλα στη θεση του εναν ενεργο Σοβιετικο πρακτορα. Απο εκει και περα οι ΗΠΑ κατηγορησαν την Σοβιετικη Ενωση για αυτο, η Σοβιετικοι ονομασαν τον Arnavisca εθνικο ηρωα και οι διαπραγματευσεις που θα γινονταν για να αποτραπει ο πολεμος, ανατιναχτηκαν κυριολεκτικα στον αερα! Ελπιζω να καταλαβες.

Επισης, οταν ρωτας γιατι συμβαινουν ολα αυτα, πιστευα οτι το καταλαβες οταν ειπα οτι "η Ευρωπη εγινε σαν τη Μεση Ανατολη". Γιατι συμβαινουν ολα αυτα στη Μεση Ανατολη σημερα; Για λογους οπως η πεινα, η φτωχια, ο εθνικισμος και τα ονειρα καποιων (τρελλων μανιακων) ανθρωπων για εξουσια. Οι καλοι εδω ειναι ο "Τομεας 6" (Sector 6) και οι "κακοι" (το βαζω σε ιδιωματικα γιατι δεν ειναι ποτε ξεκαθαρο αν ειναι πραγματι κακοι ή απλα δειχνουν ετσι) οι τρομοκρατες, ενω οι μεγαλες δυναμεις, η Σοβιετικη Ενωση και η Βαλκανικη Συμμαχια, παιζουν ρολο "κομπαρσων". Κλισε, αλλα ειναι κατι που θα'θελα να προσπαθησω. Και με το "capture" εννοω "seize control of". Και ευχαριστω για την συμβουλη σου!

@ Metalgearas: Μερικες φορες δεν εχει σημασια η κεντρικη πλοκη αλλα το ολο θεμα που κινειται η πλοκη. Αν και πραγματι η πλοκη του CYOA ηταν καπως χαλια, πρεπει να το παραδεχτω.

Επισης, σε επομενο ποστ θα γραψω τις πρωτες τρεις-τεσσερις παραγραφους του πρωτου κεφαλαιου. Να ξεκινησω να κανω και λιγο χορο εδω που τα λεμε...

Υποσχομαι οτι θα ειναι το τελευταιο μεγαλο ποστ μου.
Υποσχομαι.

Revenger προσωπικά κοιτάω συνέχεια στα τόπικ σου γιατί αναγνωρίζω το ταλέντο σου αλλά αυτές οι τελευταίες ιστορίες που έχεις σκαρφιστεί είναι κοινότυπες.Δεν λένε τίποτα σε σύγκριση με παλιότερες.

Che la morte ti dia la pace cercavi.Requiescat in pace.