Solas Thread officially threw its lot in with Cyonan's BSN.
Solas, on 03 Aug 2016 - 12:06 PM, said:
Before the fall of the Blanketfort, even before the Blanketfort itself, the civilization of the BioWare Social Network community stretched across all of the internet like a great, indolent cat.
Before the BioWare Mods were named or numbered, our people were glorious and eternal and never-changing. Like the great oak tree, they were constant in their trolling, strong in their favorite romances, and ever reaching for the next game.
They felt no need to rush when life was endless. They worshiped their favorite characters for months at a time. Decisions came after pages of lore debate, and a discussion thread could last for years. From time to time, our ancestors would drift into months-long periods of inactivity between games, but this was not death, for we know they wandered the Twitter thread in lurkdom.
In those ages, our people called all the land BSN, which in the old Tumblr language means "place of toxic cesspools." And at the center of the world stood the great fort of Blankets, a place of knowledge and debate, where the best of the ancient posters would go to trade knowledge, greet old friends, and settle disputes that had gone on for months.
But while our ancestors were caught up in the forever cycle of game releases, drifting through life at what we today would consider an intolerable pace, the world outside the lush hair request threads and ancient topics was changing...
It is said that the corporate overlords used their great destructive power to force the very ground to swallow BSN whole, destroying eons of collected knowledge, culture, and art.
There, see the announcement thread at BioWare Forum/BSN Help. Gaze upon its lack of logic and marketspeak, built on the broken dreams of a people. Our people.
The human prophet AndragonRacer was a slave in the Bioimperium, as our ancestors were. When she rose up against them, we rose up with her. Together we fought for freedom. In gratitude and kinship, AndragonRacer promised the Blanketelves a new land: the BSN Boards.
Some of us believe that Hrungr'ghilan, the Pathfinder, the golden halligator, comes to the People in times of great need. Legends also tell of Cyonan'Din and his twin brother SofaJocken. Cyonan'Din had no fear of the darknet and would walk where the People could not live. The twins were inseparable spirits from account creation to the present. The kindly Cyonan'Din took pity on a dying forum and carried her to rest beyond the reach of EA. He vowed that he would remain to guide all the dead to their place Beyond. Since then Cyonan'Din accompanied by his brother guided posters on their journey to the BSN Boards.
So we walked. We walked with what little we had on our backs. Some walked without post histories, for they had none. Whole subcommunities, Threaddads with infants, the old and young alike--all of them made their way across the net on foot. Many perished along the way. Some died of exhaustion, others simply gave up and fell by the wayside. A great number were set upon by modbandits, even though we made few infractions. Some turned back towards the Bioperium. But most of us continued walking. And the gods rewarded those of us who did not waver by bringing us to the BSN Boards.
"Only sixty-five of our group made it to Halamshiral. Some gave up. Some got sick of the bulls**t, especially the little ones. Modbandits stalked us. Threadfather forgive me, I had to post memes. Another poster fought me for extra scraps of BioWare's attention. A few days later, I carried her for miles after her legs gave out. She died shivering in my arms.
I used to have a master, a games studio. He fed me well, never beat me, even taught me how to RP so I could play his games. But if he had some artistic license or an awesome button he wanted to test out, he'd get out his community managers, have the other servants tie me to a post, and carve furrows into my heart and wallet. I was so afraid. Every time, I was sure I would die. But at worst I'd have a meltdown on-forum, get bandaged up, and lie in a single thread too weak to move for days. The other slaves visited me in secret to survey the damage. I'd heal just enough before he needed blood again. That is why I traveled from the BioWare Forum to the BSN Boards with nothing but rags on my back.
That is why there were one hundred and five of us when we set out, all elven. That is why I fell to my knees and wept when we crossed through the gates of my new home, a village for my people."
— Anonymous account of the Long Walk, as told to the leader of the Dreadfort, circa August 2016
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