THE PYLON | 95% SATIRE, 5% SERIOUS, 100% JUSTICE | ISSUE #2

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I havent even read it yet. As someone who is very fond of aesthetics I must criticize you on the design.
When I was just a lad, my daddy used to say... Tactful, son, (that was what he used to call me when he was drunk, which was always) ...one day in the future videogames might reach a point where on-the-fly three-dimensional graphics are standard. And in this magical world, hed say, droplets of ale spilling off his smacking lips, A person, some sort of game designer, might come up with a low-quality graphic boxel videogame. Whenever I asked him what boxel was, hed always do that cute little thing where hed tell me to shut up and get him another beer, that was so him. And in this low-quality graphic boxel videogame, hed continue, The creators might implement some sort of server technology which allows you to play videogames with other people, over some sort of fast-paced version of the internet. It was normally around this point where Id assume the acid had started to kick in, as his eyes rolled back into his head and hed carry on spitting and sprawling. And then, using this server technology, some intrepid forward-thinking and tech savvy political savant might come up with his own take on the tech, that provides an experience in which players can direct the action within this three-dimensional low-quality boxel graphic networked world themselves, hed slur, Without intervention from people promoted to positions of administration on the server. Hed normally stop here for a chicken wing break, before going again even more spirited than before: AND THEN, hed yell, knocking the bottle of Glenmorangie onto the already-stained carpet, In this three-dimensional player world constructed by an intrepid individual boxel low-quality graphic networked software monstrosity, you my boy... you might start a newspaper-slash-magazine with a readership literally in the dozens. Id sit there, dabbing up scotch stains from the floor with the only towel in the house, ears pricked and eyes wide open... mostly from the alcohol vapour stinging them into submission, but also partly out of curiosity. And my boy, hed continue, looking me right in the parental abandonment, If you ever start that newspaper-slash-magazine, you better damn well make sure that you never, ever quote me. This ones for you, pops.

The Pylon: Our devotion to you is iron-reinforced (stone at the edges) 1

IN ORDER TO REDUCE BANDWIDTH COSTS, CIVCRAFT MOVING TO TEXT-BASED FORMAT

In an effort to reduce rapidly increasing bandwidth costs, TTK and fellow bourgeois warlords announced earlier today that Civcraft would be officially moving to a low-overhead, low-cost and low-transmission rate format. In a statement released via an-cap advantage in the CKC channel, admin/grand wizard Exultant stated that: As much as we love what Civcraft has become over these past few months, hosting and server upkeep costs are ever mounting and we needed to find a solution, we needed a way to combat this. CIVTEXT is the answer. He went on to explain that the move was partially triggered by a recent Unofficial Official Civcraft Survey/quick-sweep to check on attitudes towards bitcoin. In the recent survey, many players expressed a desire for an increased player count, and lower lag tick. By implementing these changes, we can do both. At our most conservative estimates, we guess we could improve simultaneous player count by at least 40,000,000%. Lag tick would also be improved, apparently, with proposed estimates at a latency of around a whopping -8: The information actually arrives 8 seconds before it was sent. Many oppose the change however, claiming it disrupts the natural flow and emergent gameplay of Civcraft Classic. We are starting a petition to oppose this change, claimed one naysayer, Its not natural. We came here to play CivCRAFT, not CivHACK. When asked to explain the joke, he claimed that Nethack was a popular textbased game or MUD which bears a graphical resemblance to the Civtext concept pictures, although we couldnt confirm this. Others take an opposite stance though, as said one proponent earlier: I think it would breath an air of fresh life into the whole Civcraft experience, he claimed, and a switch to text-based would mean Civcraft was following in the footsteps of other games that have successfully made the switch like the recent DayT mod for Arma 2. This move is just the latest in a serious of changes to continue the running of the server as per normal, after last weeks revision in which every block in game was replaced by a single block type, Everythingium. For more information on the switchover, just head WEST until the trees block the sunlight, and watch out for grues.

PLAYER DEATHS FROM DRINK BOATING REACH AN ALLTIME HIGH

TRAINER CAPTURES LEVEL 12 LAVA GRIEFER IN PREPARATION FOR GYM BATTLES

Earlier today a trainer, whilst foraging in tall grass, encountered a level 12 griefer. After a brief battle, the griefer was defeated and caught in a prison pearl. This is really great for me, said the player, as I was specifically looking for this type of griefer. I have to go up against the Columbian gym leaders soon, who are famed for their use of stone-type griefers. When we spoke to the happy trainer, he already had both the Lazuli and Atmora gym badges in his possession. My starter griefer was a hack-type, the trainer continued, which in retrospect was a bad choice due to the recent nerfs. X-ray, for example, is no longer an effective move. The trainer had also faced previous strife on the routes between cities; I encountered Team Pumpkin in a cave, he explained, They were hell bent on stealing my hack-type. Not quite sure what that was all about, but still... After the meeting we contacted Columbia for their view, but they were busy attempting to digivolve a high-tier Gatzymon.

Following a five-boat pile-up on the Lazuli-Atlantis waterway, representatives from both cities have urged citizens to refrain from drinking and boating. People think they can handle themselves after a few pints, claimed one distressed Lazulian, but next thing they know theyre veering into a one-high dirt block wall. I was at the scene, she continued, they had to pull two wood blocks and a stick out of that poor kids spine. Extra attention was brought to the issue after a video of one particularly inebriated individual went viral last night, the video itself showing the individual bobbing and glitching up and down repeatedly.

IN RESPONSE TO CRITICS OF JUSTICE SYSTEM, COLUMBIA IMPLEMENTS 30 DAY FREE TRIAL

In response to recent complaints about their apparently corrupt system of justice, Columbian conSMUGGLER CAUGHT ATTEMPTING TO gress has passed a bill enacting a thirty-day free CROSS GONDOLIN BORDERS WITH 200 trial for all prisoners. Its a good way of KILOS OF GOLDEN APPLE In the modern world, experts agree that there are too many words. There are words on your cereal getting through a lot of cases, fast. said box, words on your iTunes licensing agreement... hell, there are even words at the beginning of your Star A smuggler was caught earlier this week atone representative we spoke to, and alWars films, and fifty percent of them were terrible! Do you want to be fifty percent terrible, or a hundred tempting to traffic 200 kilos of primo Golden lows us to see if we want to permanently percent TERRIFIC? And what were those midichlorion things anywhere? Surely the illusion and magical Apple into Gondolin territory. This is a vicimprison the griefer before actually gonature of the force was what inspired mystery and intrigue in the first place. And dont even get me starttory not just for us, but for Civcraft as a whole, ing through with it. When asked what ed on He Who Meesa Nots Be Named-ed. Im getting off track: My point is that Star Wars sucked balls. claimed a Gondolin representative, Golden happens after the trial expires, Colum[1] Anyway, go grab a dictionary to burn for light to read these easily digestible Factoloids by. Apple is dangerous, and destroys lives. Food bia suggested we torrent the professional was nerfed for a reason. Following the prohibiversion. [1] The Pylons patented Factoloids are legally distinct from actual facts. tion of GApple or Granny Spliff as its known on underground circuits, Nether-cartel related Pigmen deaths have almost tripled. EARLY CLINICAL TRIALS POINT TOWARDS CIVCRAFT AS EF-

FECTIVE TREATMENT FOR EX-EVE ONLINE ADDICTS

An early study performed by the Azeroth-Nicotine institute of scientific addictiveness has shown a correlating link between Civcraft, and the recovery of ex-Eve addicts. The treatment has been fantastic, claimed one participant, I havent thought about freighters in weeks. These results are extremely positive, claimed one of the scientists involved, in the past many of our participants spent thousands of dollars on the videogame EVE online, but with civcraft they only spend an average of $100 on alt accounts and bitcoin microtransactions.

SNITCH BLOCK ENTERS WITNESS RELOCATION PROGRAM

Following the release of infamous Pumpkin Jack member Noxy earlier this week, a 12-week year old snitch block that gave evidence during the trial has been placed into a Columbian government witness relocation program. We thought it was best we get the snitch into a safe and secure location, we were told, Somewhere it could start anew without fears of retribution. When we approached the snitch block for questioning, it kept yelling something about an entry alert.

In the beginning, a group known as the Pumpkin Jacks attacked the town of Lazuli. They caused a fair amount of damage before retreating, and a peace treaty was struck. The Lazulians broke it first, and the resulting battle was prolific enough to lead to the creation of a theatrical play. This may not seem notable to those of you whove had to withstand multiple attacks and raids, but this particular instance was different; The attackers seemed... normal. We spoke at length in Mumble at the time about gameplay, about conflict, about crime and punishment. This group wasnt random; they held no malice, they gave mercy, they were seemingly the antithesis of previous chaotic groups that challenged order on the server. If one were so inclined, they might even describe them as Lawful Evil. Many weeks later, and Im standing next to Pumpkin Jack member and de facto spokesperson Noxy. Same skin, same attitude... except the circumstances of our conversation are drastically different. Noxy was imprisoned, under lock and key, but we werent in the End; the place where those imprisoned are sent. We were in the centre of the City of Columbia, and I watched him farm trees. A few days previous to this Noxy had been caught by Exultant, under the premise of past crimes. After long deliberations and endless Mumble-based discussions on justice and similar topics, an agreement was reached. Since Lazuli no longer had any outstanding claims against Noxy, and his only crimes against Above: Noxy quietly farms trees whilst awaiting release. Exultant were those of breaking and entering and minor theft, Noxy would be released. There were several who opposed this, mostly on the grounds that Noxy made no promises not to act in such a way again. In Civcraft, theres a tendency to drift towards absolute imprisonment even for the smallest crimes. Many men are chained up, thrown away permanently, and yet as I witnessed this debate, this bargaining, I wondered how many of those psuedo-criminals would be free right now if they had even a scrap of the decency and tact that Noxy himself exemplifies daily via Mumble, and on the subreddit. This is not a man you can hate, even if you hate his methods.

 I met Noxy at the central vault, standing atop obsidian. Strongman was there alongside us, as we awaited the arrival of Exultant. The deal was done; 50 diamonds retribution, and in return he gained something infinitely more valuable: his life. Noxys co-conspirator, PhilipD, was a fair distance away with the offering. We decided to go meet him. The journey there was a strange one. Four men sprinting down nether roads, it felt like any other group travelling to any other destination, but it wasnt. We were trafficking a prisoner, one who couldnt move too far from his pearlcarrier, lest he risk suffering damage. We stopped periodically to eat, and walk, eat, and walk. Philip was still far out, so we arranged a meeting place for the trade: Lazuli. Through the portal and across the surface and straight unto the backdrop of a thunderous storm. Wind billowed and rain drove down, as we awaited our fifth party. He arrived. The trade happened, in the very place the Pumpkin Jacks chose to make their first mark on the world. Noxy was a free man right in front of the gates of Lazuli. He placed his armour on piece by piece, plans being discussed with fervour. They would seek out the location of a base, a place to build, somewhere to call their own. The Pumpkin Jacks were no longer just a group, could no longer be timidly described as raiders or marauders... they were a force now, with a stronghold just waiting to be built. We parted ways, the entire transaction amicable and rather underwhelming. We were all left thinking about the power of words, and the way in which kindness can be used Above-right: Waiting at the gates of Lazuli. as an effective tool within systems of Above: Feeding time on the Nether roads. justice. Following his imprisonment, Noxy didnt head to the subreddit to bitch and complain... he applauded his captor, and began discussions of retribution. Of the five stages of death, Noxy skipped passed denial straight to bargaining, and didnt take a single step farther. Was this the right thing to do? Will this have unintended consequences? Only time will tell. Until then; make wheat whilst the sun shines, and beware the slow growth of pumpkins.

Left-page top from left-to-right, then down: Exultant, Noxy and Strongman stand ready at the gates of Lazuli; Exultant arrives at the vault; Noxy stands in front of the flags of the city he first attacked; Noxy and Exultant gather their bearings in the Columbian rain.

Right-page top from left-to-right, then down: Exultant sets Noxy ablaze in order to re-pearl him; PhilipD dances with joy at the release of his comrade; Noxy equips his old friends;The long ride up Blueavenues shaft; PhilipD arrives, and the trade begins.

WASSUP W ASSUP CIVCR AFT, YOUS BRE DA JA JA ERE WITH AN ICKLE WURD ON CREEM AN PUNISH SEEN? CR MENT, EEM IS A T ING AL BR FENCE YS EDA GOTT TOOP, GET A DEAL WI ME? BUT ERE WITH TH, NO MA LEMME TE DAT RIGHT T L A L W Y E H U N ICH SIDES O W TAKK CHA TADA BAC , I F D E O-DEM BABYLO K FI ME A TTIN DAT N BE MAR N, NO SLO RIGHTEOU CHIN UP IN W. STRAIG S TINGS, B GETME? R HT UP SEN REDA INTR EEESPEK O E DOOSEM M B A C K AN KEEP T T O THE PIG HE ZION B FARRRM, LESSD.
Dear ja ja, im having trouble with mineral vein. i cant seem to find any diamonds, no matter how hard i try. what should i do? ayo main man, what you sayin? ive been unlawfully imprisoned, help a brother out!
ayo manaman, wos reppin? sallways a wretched day when babylon clap down fundruss skis and tag a righteous breda, but stay strong. the key is tmeek it known breda; be polite in ngoshayshns, and keep a keen eye out fi dem work, dem help, anyting a reeeteous soldier of jas meaty army can do to prove his inherent reeteousness. before long a weestman be out reppin streets droppin bare gapple in gondolin, get me? keep it seen on da scene.

Breda, breda, breda... ja even reeed dem manual? ick fixplen al dem ting in dat post, but mi can bi a righteous breda an splen dat chat choo. yous ohme a fat draga-dat drawww doe, seen? so first a breda dig im at regular diamond height, an what mi meen man do is rep dem samples. so teek dem samples at regular intervals of bout 300, 400, meeba wretched 500 if a breda feelin kinglike, ya-know? mark down dem minrawls, an dig em reet up. before a breda blink hi fi dat dench dosh flow reet up is pocket, breakin bank an ting. reespeck da urt an she treet ywell.

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THIS WEEKS Q+A WITH SOMEONE YOUR MUM HAD ALMOST DEFINITELY SLEPT WITH, IS WITH THE ILLUSTRIOUS FARMCRAFT, FOUNDER OF BASTION. Q: When did you arrive to the Civcraft world? A: I was spawned of the supple hips of Ttk2 around late April this year. Q: How did you discover the server? A: An obscure comment on Reddit. Q: Who are you affiliated with in the in-game world? A: I used to be apart of the LSIF, but that got a bit unsafe. Currently Im the architect of this nice little place called Bastion. [shameless plug] Q: What is your biggest success/project on the server to date? A: Once, I moved two mooshrooms across an ocean. Sonofabitch that took a long time. Q: Ancap, LibSoc, Statist; Fuck/Marry/Kill (Fuck one, marry one, kill one) A: Fuck the AnCap, because that shit is cray, marry the LibSoc, because I want to stare at Foolishs body the rest of my life, and kill the Statist, because Im not a big fan of moustaches. Q: Where do you see the server in 5 months? A: From my desk? Q: Whats your favourite block? A: 900 blocks of Swan Street. Best damn food in the city. Oh, err, Minecraft? I like Stone Brick quite a bit. Nice, smooth... sexy... Q: Rome is splitting into two distinctly separate groups following a small civil war incident, your take on the situation? A: You cant say history doesnt repeat itself at this point, eh? Q: People are clamouring for Citadel reform, asking that a key or password situation introduced. Anything interesting to add? A: [REDACTED] (ed: He did the speech from Network.)

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CHAPTER II
I stepped off the boat, and into hell. Flames licked themselves up the walls of houses and frenched the roofs. Animals ran wild, some still alight, as villages struggled to douse the areas that were still worth saving. It had been two days since the previous attack, and I had been tracking my target with relentless determination. I was looking for an enchanter, and had instead found an arsonist. Things were heating up in the world of Civcraft, and I for one wasnt about to lose my cool.

I marched through the village, and blocked out the screaming. I was told the enchanter was in hiding, and nobody would tell me why. I hate going in blind, but sometimes theres no other option than a front door approach. I approached the front door. Blinds flickered, quick movements behind window pains, and I knew my time was limited. I struck. The door crumbled, wood giving way with that satisfying snap, as I leapt through the entryway. They say men in wood houses shouldnt start fires, and this goon clearly wasnt the brightest spark in the box... nothing was reinforced, everything open. I drew my sword. Kitchen; empty. Dining; Empty. Bathroom; empty. He was either hiding, or hed scarpered; if the former, hed be out soon. If the latter, he was already long gone. I sat in the kitchen and took in my surroundings; clean and tidy, everything shaved out of clean varnished wood. I instinctively moves my hand down to check my sider, before retracting it: it was on the fritz again, strong electrical storms. A brewing stand stood bubbling away in a corner; I must have caught him mid-brew. I took a whiff... speed probably, with a hint of health. The floorboards squeaked underfoot as I strafed the apartment, checking for anything, any sign that might lead me to my next step. After a fruitless search, I sat back down, and fixed myself a stiff drink. Whisky and Bottle O, grows with experience. At least it doesnt leave a bad taste in the mouth.

I thought of her. She always loved these quaint little villages with their obscure traditions and easily surmounted defences. Theres something beautiful about it, shed shpeel, more poignant shed say. Id barely listen in those times, enraptured by the latest case, seduced by a city of cold and heartless stone. Stone. A brewing stand reaches extreme temperatures; theres no way you could place it on a wooden floor without it leaving a serious and literal mark. I moved into the kitchen, and checked. A single stone slab lay underneath, misplaced in all this rustiness. I kicked over the cauldron, and watched liquid seep through the boarded gaps. Then I lifted the slab.

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Maybe this enchanter wasnt so stupid after all. I descended the ladder, and entered the dark. Many burnt out torched lined the cobble walls; this looked like some sort of bomb shelter, or hidden basement. I checked my sider; NO SIGNAL.

Rung after rung and Im rung out. The light from my sider cast a slight glow off the walls, enough to navigate by. A silverfish scuttled past me quietly, as the dull thuds and screams continued to ring overhead. Who would start a fire in a village like this? Three separate buildings set alight at once points to serious foul play... Could it have been a distraction? Did they know I was coming? Was I being paranoid? I moved from the short hallway into the main room, lamplight bringing the scene into the observable. A table sat in the middle of a ring of shelves housing tattered old books, tomes from the old ages. I picked one at random: RevSci. The cover was gibberish; I chucked it aside.

So this is where the magic happens, I exclaimed, words echoing off the walls and returning to source with renewed power and gravitas. Nice echo-chamber, I continued, Must help when youre forging weapons for a war youll never have to fight in. A pause. And what do you know of war? the walls replied, from all directions at once. I know that a good man doesnt supply both sides,

Well then, they replied, flickering lamps causing the cobbles to dance as if lip synching the archetypical words. I guess that makes me a very bad man. I drew my sword, and heard one draw in response. The lights cut out. Silence. The brightness of it hit me first and foremost. Id seen many fire aspect blades, but none as vibrant and in such contrast with its surrounding. The fire spewed forth, a boiling blue with edged into reds and yellows as it drifted slowly outwards, as if in slow motion. In regular motion, I countered, tossing embers outwards like a smith at the anvil, clash against clash like the hammer and tongs. I parried, and ducked. Thats a nice sword, I exuded between breaths, Not very practical though, How so? he enquired, similarly wheezing,

There he stood, Val the Enchanter. He was robed and addled, trim beard framing aging face, a scar lining his right cheek, a menace piercing outwards from his mismatched eyes.

I stood back and let loose a bottle, and he quickly brought his sword up and down into an arc meant for contact. And contact he did; the bottle split, and burst, peppering the room with glass. I dove to the floor... eyes watering... partly from photosensitivity, partly out of a sense of loss... that was a fifteen year old bottle of scotch. He was quiet at first, but then the screaming began. His face and throat were season with tiny shards, blood spotting his face like a pointillist portrait. He was gasping for air, a lost cause. VAL THE ENCHANTER, I exclaimed above the noise, WHERE IS SHE? Laughs muddled the agonising outbursts, and I knew then I wasnt gonna get an answer. I sunk my sword into his throat. I re-lit the lamps with Vals magic sword, and examined the room. There was a lot of material here, amidst order lists and bank statements. Val may not be able to tell me what I want to know, but if theres one thing I can do as an ex-detective... its follow a paper trial. Im coming, baby.

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LIKE THE PYLON? WHY NOT ADVERTISE IN IT? WITH A READERSHIP LITERALLY IN THE DOZENS, GET WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY OUT TO AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE THE EASY WAY... PS: THE EASY WAY INVOLVEs GIVING ME MONEY. CONTACT TACTFUL VIA MUMBLE OR REDDIT.

So here we come to the end of another exciting issue. There were laughs, there were tears, hopefully some snot and semen. Maybe blood and vomit, who knows? After all, there are some Irish reading this. The important thing to remember is that this weeks issue is totally complete, without missing anything. Oh... hold on... wait... Oh yeah, were totally missing the comic. Im not going to name any names, but between J R U... sorry, I mean Me and You, there was supposed to be a fabulous comic in this issue. Im not saying we should raid his shop, kill his animals, and destroy his accumulated wealth or anything, but... you know... there are options. Tune in next week for the Lost and Found issue, where Ill be exploring some dark and forgotten holes, if youre mothers around. Heyo! Made myself laugh a bit there. Its funny because she has sexual intercourse liberally.

THE PYLON WILL RETURN NEXT WEEK WITH ISSUE #3: LOST AND FOUND

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THIS IS THE BACK-PAGE. WELCOME TO THE BACKPAGE. ITS WHERE ALL THE COOL KIDS HANG OUT AND SMOKE. YOU UH, YOU MIGHT FEEL MORE COMFORTABLE UNDER THE FRONT PAGE, PLAYING MAGIC THE GATHERING.