Well one this is always certain, FROOT is unpredictable as corps go, officially we are in space what the 'chaotic-neutral barbarian' in dungeons & dragons, we have no distinct goal, we follow no real rules, we harbour criminals as well as the most innocent of carebear. In our time we've been high sec dwellers, a slight time spent in low-sec (until we were
very kindly asked to leave at the business end of some large weaponry).
We've mined, we grind (I figure its the closest verb for mission grinding which rhymed with mined) we've traded, scammed, griefed and run incursions... now we find our whim drawn to taking occupancy in a wormhole, it's new it's different it's .... frooty.
No sooner had we taken up residency and gotten settled than we found the hole appearing not too far from a busy route, we figured if we were going to see any activity, it would be sooner rather than later, and with only a handful of the FROOT's actually ensconced inside the 1st bout of action began! a small group of Hurricanes laid a neat little trap into which yours truely fell face first.
However, I ahve to say my new ship, a 'laser' Ferox, faired better than I had hoped for, tanked 3 canes, seeing one of them off, I thought we'd killed him, but I guess he got out at the very last moment. [sad face goes here]. and I got out by the skin of my hull and Panicus flew off wildly in a random direction, which for me is as good an escape as any.
Hopefully Axloth, chasman and whoever else was left behind in the FROOThole is still in one piece.
No comments:
Post a Comment