I Cant get over it I'm sorry. But This isn't fair!
Its much easier to judge a picture than it is a story, not to mention less time consuming. And we can all agree this weeks caption wasn't creative or funny. Do you know how long it will take to read all the story's? I doubt they will.
I don't think they have beta keys! They make fake accounts and award them with nothing.
THE BETA KEY IS A LIE!
Life isn't fair get over it.
What would be the point of making fake accounts and awarding them with nothing. What would the MODS gain from rewarding their fake accounts with "nothing" when basically all of them have played the Beta at some point.
This happens every single week over the caption contests and it is really annoying. If you don't win, try and win from the next competition. I don't recall anyone saying this will be an easy contest to get a Beta key.
Draxito. He explain the point. Maybe isnt true, but make sense. When I attended, I found those who believed they were better than mine, and the winners were all below the expectation, not only mine, so that is strange and is valid raising questions.
I keep all captions on my album, past winners have no profile and no album...
So do I.
I have participated in all the contests because I believe there is the possibility I could be one of the lucky ones and actually win a key and be able to play Diablo 3 before its release. When the caption contest was first started, I also don't recall there being a disclaimer saying if you sign up on diablofans.com, participate, and win the contest that you have to remain a browser of this website or even come back to it ever again.
That's just how people are though, they get what they want and then leave which is disappointing. And I'm not saying all people are like that though but the majority probably didn't even know/care about this website before the contest for the beta key went up.
Binkles the Frog, is the embodiment of the jungle spirit.
When sanctuary was created, life spread in every corner. Deep within the jungles near Kurast, life brings forth all sorts of creatures. But threats are always constant, even in the natural cycle of life, and the dead need guidance from this world.
Binkles is the spirit that watches over all life in the jungle. He is as old as he is wise, understands the path of life and the inevitability of death and embraces the constant turn from life to death to life again. Guiding those who die, and helping those who live, he keeps the jungle stable, prosper and evolving as a collective organism.
For centuries he lay dormant deep within the jungle, focusing his energies on his obligations. Emerging from his slumber every hundred years to take a look over the world, and prepare to carry on his duties as a guiding spirit.
But time would not wait for this cycle to end. And from the skies, a call emerges. The Meteor that fell into the Tristram Cathedral sent a wave through the world, awaking every spirit with eerie visions of imminent doom.
Binkles gazes upon life in his jungle, only able to observe the changes around him, the corruption growing sinking it's teeth into all living creatures. He can only hope that one will come to him, seeking his knowledge, and will help him restore the balance he seeks to protect.
From the writings of Abd al-Hazir
Journal Entry 420:
Finally, my journey carried me to the fog enshrouded jungles of Kehjistan in search of the storied amphibian, Binkles the Frog. The subject of many a bard's hushed tale, scholars have tried and failed to confirm his existence through the ages. I started my my search among the ancient vine bound walls of Kurast... with more skepticism than hope, I confess. For weeks I confered with the most affluent, the most traveled, and the most learned of the jungle city's inhabitants, learning nothing. Most scoffed at my inquiry, fervently denying that the myths held any truth. Others were more civil, but had little knowledge to offer.
Then upon the night I planned to depart the city, my fortunate took a sudden turn. At the time, I thought, for the better. As I sat in the common room of the Inn, contemplating my notes, a bard began to play softly. And then in a soft voice he sang "Ballad of Binkles." Quite an old song, and practically nothing within it substantial enough to help me, even if it contained a grain of truth. Still for a moment I thought to ask the bard of my quarry. After all, when in pursuit of a myth, is a bard not more likely aid than a sage?
At the very moment I rose to approach, there was a piteous cry from one of the patrons. "Please,no! Don't sing of it! No!" I was startled, and yet hopeful. This was not the cries of some child frightened of fairy tales, but of a rugged and fierce man, who had the look of a traveler. I was imediately certain his fear was based not on stories, but on some dark and terrible memory. The other patrons laughed at his outburst and began to harass the man. He rose hurriedly and pressed through the jeering crowd, still weeping as he went. I followed him outside, where I found him curled up and cowering on the street, wracked with tremors. His eyes held a lost and vacant look. I introduced myself as a scholar and asked him what he knew of Binkles. "I came upon his lair accidentally. Those eyes... I'll never forget. The stories are all true. All of them. You do not want to find Binkles..."
A week later, I reached the object of my search. The foul creature's very den. The point marked on my map by the traveler was precisely correct. I had no doubt even as I stood outside. The entrance gaped dark in the rock, like the mouth of some ancient tomb, and sense of forboding permeated my very soul. Tendrils of fog reached out as if to beckon me onward, but reason and fear compelled me to turn away. Still after such a harrowing journey through Kehjistan's wretched swamps, how could one turn, just steps from a such a discovery. I gathered my wits and courage and stepped forward into that bleak crack. Long contemplation was out of the question. It does not pay to tarry in such macabre surroundings.
WIth each step into the nightmare, my terror grew, and yet my resolve held. Further and further I went, until I was in tunnels untouched by the light of the sun in eons. Yet I could see. The walls were covered with a grotesque algae that glowed a hideous shade of green. The air felt hot and strangely moist. I felt almost as though I were drowning in this oppressive atmosphere. Yet i psersisted, slipping and scurrying along the rock.
Then I reached the final chamber. A subtaranean lake, covered with thick, roiling algae, and strange black lilly pads. I know not how to write of the dread this place held for me. My resolve finally crumbled and I turned to run, unwilling to face he who dwelt there. But it was too late. I felt the algae entangling my legs and I fell forward. The plants moved as though alive, pulling down my arms and legs, holding me fast. Then, the diminutive monster approached, hopping from pad to pad. I expect most of my readers will laugh at this point, for he looked like a most ordinary frog. Yet for reasons completely intangible, you would never mistake him for such. Never before have I sinced such dark malice, such hatred in a being. Power radiated from it perceptibly. A bleak and cursed intellect stared unblinking from behind those black and glossy eyes.
"Binkles... of the Horodram..." I greeted him.
The frog coughed a strange laugh. "..of the Horodram... I have not heard that in a long time. So, my story is still told then?"
"With occasioanl embilishments and inconsistincies, yes." I replied, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
"I was once the greatest of the sages. And if they had listened to me, the world would not be on the brink. Power such as that held by the primeevils can not be hideen away in soulstones!" The frog croaked. "Such power is imortal, and it can not be contained. It can only be harnassed!"
With this the frog's eyes began to glow red, and I knew the legend was true in its entirity. Binkles, of the Horadram had warned against hiding the soulstones away, and advocated trying to use the power instead. Some stories say his ideas were concocted by the stone's dark influence, twisting his mind in such close proximity. Others, that his thoughts were prophetic. He devised a ritual to attempt to harness the power of the stone, and stole it away from the other mages. During the end of the ritual he was interrupted by his Horadoric brethren, who had found him just in time. The ritual was intricate, and the interruption came as the spell began to coalesce, altering the energies subtly. Instead of draining Diablo's power into himself, he was turned to a frog. Yet the evil power of the stone did strengthen him and twist his powers to evil. The dread frog had then carved a swath of destruction with his wrathful magic until he reached Kehjistan and settled into his lair never again to venture into daylight.
Now all that storied magical energy was twisting around me. To what ends I did not know. I feared death would be merciful compared to what the dread frog held in store for me. Then with a heart rending ribbit, his spell was complete and I was portaled away. I awoke weeks later, deathly sick, upon a bed in Kurast. I had found the subject of my search, yet I took no pleasure in it, nor anything since. Even in his mercy, Binkles effected me terribly. A weakness harries me, and my health is fading. His croaks and red gaze haunt my every dream. The sight of water, or a swamp, or anything remotely associated with frogs feels me with fear.
the other picture contests i can somewhat agree they were original and funny. but this one i just can't agree with. i know the contest isn't supposed to be based on humor and that all you need to do is put in captions. but there were so much better pictures than this winner. i honestly don't even care anymore lol.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Went outside today, the graphics were ok. But the gameplay sucked
Binkles was a shy but a very brave necromancer and served alongside Sholan, as an apprentice to Zoltun Kulle, a mad necromancer from the horadrim. They followed him blindly and without a secound thought, and were easily persuaded to do Zoltun Kulle's evil bidding. Zoltun Kulle was known for his madness and lust for power and was considered a threat to the world around him but despite of that Sholan and Binkles were blinded by their admiration for their master and stood loyally by his side and as they tried to defend him against the forces that wished to end Zoltun Kulle's life. But they failed and Zoltun Kulle was cut up in pieces and his body was scattered across the world in various tombs and crypts so that he would never return. Luckily Sholan and Binkles managed to slip away after Zoltun Kulle's death and vowed to bring their master back.
Binkles and Sholan had always been rivals and competed for Zolten Kulle's appreciation of their worth as necromancers. They both had different qualities, Binkles had always been above average at summoning and simply lacked the interest of expanding the view to other elements of necromancy. Sholan on the other hand only had the skill to master curses and nothing else. They put their rivalries aside and combined their different specialities in hope of restoring their beloved master.
Two years passed and together they managed to recover all of his body except for the head, and knew that the protectors of Zolten Kulles' head were onto them, nevertheless they found the Tomb of Lost Souls where Zolten Kulles' head was guarded, not just by wizards but also by the horadrim. Binkles summoned scouts to infiltrate the tomb and see if there was any way they could get passed the guards unnoticed. The scouts returned with news of a cracked wall on the east side of the tomb with just enough space to slip through. Easily enough they got in. Once inside they made their way through endless halls and narrow corridors until finally they arrived at a very dark and ominous hall, they could not see the walls of the room or the ground for there was only a bridge, and across the bridge in the vast distance a strange light flickered and Binkles yelled: "There he is! It's our master!". And sprinted across the bridge in hope of finding the head of Zolten Kulle. Sholan noticed movements in the vast empty darkness surrounding the bridge and suddenly Binkles vanished into the darkness that the bridge disappeared into... It was silent, too silent, Sholan couldn't hear Binkles' footsteps... But suddenly a scream in the distance, Sholans' heart rate increased rapidly... Was that Binkles? Was it someone else? And if so then who?... Sholan had to think quick and remembered that Binkles was carrying vital parts of Zolten Kulle, there was no other option but to sprint across the bridge in the darkness and hope for the best. Halfway across the bridge Sholan heard his feet splash against the floor of the bridge and noticed it was covered in blood, Sholan assumed the worst and charged on ahead following the path of blood and found the body of Binkles lying there, hardly recognizable from the severe wounds. Sholan fell to his knees, in shock of what he saw in front of him, his heart rate increased even further when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching from behind him, three, four maybe five different footsteps, too many to count. Sholan stood up, filled with anger, turned around and the footsteps stopped... He could see six fully armed guards standing in front of him, but before one of them could speak, Sholan cast Iron Maiden on them while he charged at them armed only with a dagger and Zolten Kulles arm, the guards showed no signs of backing down from a necromancer with a dagger and a severed limb and engaged, within seconds all six of the guards were on the floor, either dead or severely injured. Finally Sholan fell to the floor, as he could not endure the wounds inflicted by the guards... Sholan lied there, tears began to form in his eyes as he looked over Binkles' corpse. He reminisced about his memories with Binkles and realized how juvenile and insignificant their little rivalries were, Binkles had always shown more potential than he, and so with what little strength he could conjure in his last moments he sacrificed himself to hopefully resurrect Binkles and immediately crashed down.
More guards showed up after a few moments and cleared the corpses as well as collecting Zoltan Kulles' parts and restored them to their tombs for safe keeping. Having barely stopped a couple of novice necromancer apprentices from restoring Zolten Kulle, they were summoned before Tyrael to answer for their inadequate performance in their duties. On their way there a little frog managed slip away unnoticed from one of the guards' person, for that the guards had failed to notice that the frog initially came onto their person in the Tomb of Lost Souls. The frog just sat there quietly... Mourning the loss of her dear friend.
The hulking barbarian entered town. His muscles rippled forth from his chest plate. The plate seemed but a flimsy scrap of metal trying its best to contain a mountain of sinew. He was the largest human Binkles had ever seen. And upon first glance, Binkles understood what must be done.
The other townsfolk greeted the hero. He was a savior to their plight. A star had fallen days ago and from that eruption a great evil had been unleashed. The hero, whom the others called Khan, had spoken to everyone in town and he now approached Binkles.
“Hail to you, most strange creature.”
The man spoke but Binkles did not hear.
Binkles thought of a time long past. It was a time where his fellow bunnies frolicked in the city of Harrogath, a time where chickens roamed free of any worries among the citizens of Tristram, and a time where scarab beetles need not worry themselves of the heels of “heroes.”
No. Those times were long gone. Instead, Binkles could only think of the massacre of the bunny tribe of Harragoth. The great bunny lord Twinkles was roasted on a spit that day by a “hero” barbarian. The rest of the tribe was trampled by other such heroes. These heroes claimed to be saving the world, yet the denizens of Binkles’ world only saw death. The chickens of Tristram had long since been chased away. To this day none could be found within a mile of town. The scarabs of Lut Gholein had long since vanished, squashed under the foot of these heroes. And the bunnies. The bunnies were no more.
Binkles’ toad tribe was fortunate. They escaped the great massacre in Kurast and they had ever since carried a great burden. For centuries they had trained with one goal in mind. And now… the time was approaching. Binkles would have his revenge. Yes, he would avenge his fallen comrades.
The barbarian named Khan was awaiting an answer. Binkles wished with all his heart to scream, “I WILL HAVE YOUR SOUL!”
He must not give himself away.
“Ribbit,” Binkles croaked and he hopped away into the night.
Whooo wee, Mista Binkles sho gunna have alotta readin to do to get through all of these storehs people be writin about him. Why, I s'pose it'll take hours & hours of readin to get dun by Halloween! Ohhh my!!! Whooo wee!! Deyz gunna be some seriously, long ass, boring stories about him... I'm glad I don't hafta read all chit cuz I'm sure most of dem gunna be crap! Pictures be much mo ez!
And what da hell Mr. Binkles thankin wen he dun & picked the most craptastic picture for week 3 of the Beta contest?!?! I believe Mista Binkles needs ta stop smokin dat whackee tah-backee & pull his head outta hi lil froggie ass! Whoooo wee!
The Umbaru witch doctors deep in the Torajan Jungles have for generations devoted their lives to the study of Mbwiru Eikura. Communing with the alternate reality in their Ghost Trance, the Umbaru encounter all manner of spirits, creatures, and armies of fetish demons. It is here that the witch doctors encounter the mighty Binkles the Frog.
Binkles has watched carefully over his frog brethren since the birth of Sanctuary, granting great power when earned and cursing those who dare attempt to use is amphibious minions without his blessing. In all the history of Sanctuary, few have been granted the ability to wield his brethren in battle. The lucky Umbaru who please Binkles exit the Ghost Trance with the power to unleash torrents of poisonous frogs on their foes, swallowing them whole or stinging them with the poisonous vengeance of Binkles.
Yeah I kinda have to agree. I mean everyone has their own sense of humor, but there are way better submissions with a lot more creativity then the ones that won the contest. Oh well though, congratulations to the ones that won you lucky sons of binkles. I did read that more beta invites are going out after blizzcon and the new patch for the beta though, so hopefully more people will get into the beta soon.
This response is entirely my own and does not necessarily reflect the attitudes or sentiments of any other staff members.
The problem that we face is that we can't pick anyone that uses any references (memes, pop culture, movies, etc.) from outside the series (everyone's first complaint), so that eliminates 95% of them. Then we got in trouble for picking one that focused on image usage and didn't include a caption, so we had to be sure entries had literal captions.
The problem is that people would find issues with anything we picked. If we picked one of the excellent ones that were like comic books, we would be slammed for picking one that didn't have a caption format. If we picked one that was an animated GIF, we'd get in trouble because it wasn't a strict image. If we picked one that was nearly entirely hand drawn we'd get in trouble because it used too little of the original image.
Now we picked one that was strictly and literally a caption in every sense of the word. It contained one caption and used only wit to compose its message. It didn't edit the real image at all. So, in lieu of any real counterargument, we're slammed with "it's fixed!" arguments.
Because we clearly couldn't just hand out a beta key to all our friends (or better yet, the staff that didn't even get a key and they've been here in many cases for years) and not go through all the trouble of this contest and all the negative energy its creating.
In short, no matter what we do, we're screwed, because someone won't get what they want and won't be happy.
I'm not saying everyone's feelings are unjustified. For the first round, I can personally see why there was so much e-rage, although now it's clear what we're expecting and still we get the ass in our faces. But because so many people registered just to get into the beta, or crawled out of the woodwork (we still love you!) for this contest, many people were bound to be disappointed because they didn't win and blame their luck on a communal "they," in this case, the judges who waded through thousands and thousands of entries to discern posts that conformed to the complaints you guys are posting the most while still being comical.
It just happens. We accept that and move on. If we had a thousand thousand keys to give out to a thousand thousand posts, we would gladly do so. Because we love our members is the reason that we want to do this. You guys all deserve beta keys for loving the series so much. But we only have so many, so we decided it would be best to hand them out in a way that lets people have fun at the same time and enjoy the franchise we've been writing and reading about (not to mention playing!) for over a decade.
All that said, I'm really excited about this contest and can't wait to read what you guys come up with. I hope we can all come to an understanding some day
Binkles the frog was not always a frog. He was in fact a great demon who terrorized the human world and did whatever he wanted. He was very strong and no one could best him. Binkles greatest ability was that he could transfer himself to anyone’s body and take it over. This ability of his made him very hard to track down and kill.
One day while fighting a wizard Binkles had planned on taking her body so he could infiltrate the wizard’s organization and attempt to destroy all wizards. Little did he know this particular wizard knew who he was and about his body changing trick. She played along with it pretending to be less of a match she was hoping he would try and take her body so she could lay a trap of her own. After some time when she became very weak he made his move, but the wizard fully aware of this. Grabbed a frog from the sack on her waist she flung it in his direction. Binkles had transferred his body to a frog and not into the wizard body. With Binkles having no way of being able to communicate in human language to cast his ability he will forever be stuck in this frogs body and only known only as Binkles the Frog.
From the writingsof Abd al-Hazir Journal Entry 420: *Revised*
Finally, my journey carried me to the mist enshrouded jungles of Kehjistan insearch of the storied amphibian, Binkles the Frog. The subject of many a bard'stale, scholars have tried and failed to confirm his existence through the ages.I started my search among the ancient vine bound walls of Kurast... with moreskepticism than hope, I confess. For weeks I conferred with the most affluent,the most traveled, and the most wise of the jungle city's inhabitants, learningnothing. Most scoffed at my inquiry, fervently denying that the myths held anytruth. Others were more civil, but had little knowledge to offer. Then upon the night I planned to depart the city, my fortune took a sudden turn. At the time, I thought, for the better. As Isat in the common room of the Inn, contemplating my notes, a bard began to playsoftly. Then in a soft voice he sang "The Ballad of Binkles." It is quitean old song, and practically nothing within it was substantial enough to helpme, even if it contained a grain of truth. Still for a moment I thought to askthe bard of my quarry. After all, when in pursuit of a myth, is a bard not morelikely aid than a sage? At the very moment I rose to approach, there was a piteous cry from one of thepatrons. "Please,no! Don't sing of it! No!" I was startled, and yethopeful. This was not the cries of some child frightened of fairy tales, but ofa rugged and fierce man, who had the look of a traveler. I was immediatelycertain his fear was based not on stories, but upon some dark and terriblememory. The other patrons laughed at his outburst and began to harass the man.He rose hurriedly and pressed through the jeering crowd, still weeping as hewent. I followed him outside, where I found him curled up and cowering on thestreet, wracked with tremors. His eyes held a lost and vacant look. Iintroduced myself as a scholar and asked him what he knew of Binkles. "Icame upon his lair accidentally. Those eyes... I'll never forget. The storiesare all true. All of them. You do not want to find Binkles..." A week later, I reached the object of my search.I had found the foul creature's very den. The point markedon my map by the traveler was precisely correct. I had no doubt even as I stood outside. Theentrance gaped dark in the rock, like the mouth of some ancient tomb, and asense of foreboding permeated my verysoul. Tendrils of fog reached out as if to beckon me onward, but reason andfear compelled me to turn away. Still aftera harrowing journey through Kehjistan's wretched swamps, how could oneturn, just steps fromsuch a discovery.I gathered my wits and stepped forward into that bleak crack. Longcontemplation was out of the question. It does not pay to tarry in such macabresurroundings. With each step into the nightmare, my terror grew, and yet my resolve held.Further and further I went, until I was in tunnels untouched by the light ofthe sun in eons. Yet I could see. The walls were covered with grotesque algaethat emitted an eerie green glow. The air felt hot and strangely moist. I feltalmost as though I were drowning in this oppressive atmosphere. Yet I persisted,slipping and scurrying along the rock. Then I reached the final chamber. A subterranean lake, covered with thick,roiling algae and strange black lily pads. I know not how to write of the dreadthis place held for me. My resolve finally crumbled and I turned to run,unwilling to face he who dwelt there. But it was too late. I felt the algaeentangling my legs and fell forward. The plants moved as though alive, pullingdown my arms and legs, holding me fast. Then, the diminutive monsterapproached, hopping from pad to pad. I expect most of my readers will laugh atthis point, for he looked like a most ordinary frog. Yet for reasons completelyintangible, you would never mistake him for such. Never before have I sensedsuch dark malice, such hatred in a being. Power radiated from it perceptibly. Ableak and cursed intellect stared unblinking from behind those black and glossyeyes. "Binkles... of the Horadrim..." I greeted him. The frog coughed a strange laugh. "..Of the Horadrim... I have not heardthat in a long time. So, my story isstill told then?" "With occasional embellishments and inconsistencies, yes." I replied,trying to keep my voice from trembling. "I was once the greatest of the sages. And if they had listened to me, theworld would not be on the brink. Power such as that held by the prime evils cannotbe hidden away in soulstones!" The frog croaked. "Such power is immortal,and it cannot be contained. It can only be harnessed!" With this the frog's eyes began to glow red, and I knew the legend was true inits entirety. When Diablo was captured, Binkles, of the Horadrim had warnedagainst hiding the soulstones away, and advocated trying to use the powerinstead. Some stories say his ideas were concocted by the stone's darkinfluence, twisting his mind in such close proximity. Others, that his thoughts were prophetic. Hedevised a ritual to attempt to harness the power of the stone, and stole itaway from the other mages. During the end of the ritual he was interrupted byhis Horadric brethren, who had found him just in time. The ritual wasintricate, and the interruption came as the spell began to coalesce, alteringthe energies subtly. Instead of draining Diablo's power into himself, he wasturned to a frog. Yet the evil power of the stone did strengthen him and twisthis powers to evil. The dread frog had then carved a swath of destruction withhis wrathful magic until he reached Kehjistan and settled into his lair neveragain to venture into daylight. Now all that storied magical energy was twisting around me. To what ends I didnot know. I feared death would be merciful compared to what the dread frog heldin store for me. Then with a heart rending ribbit, his spell was complete and Iwas portaled away. I awoke weeks later, deathly sick, upon a bed in Kurast. Ihad found the subject of my search, yet I took no pleasure in it, nor anythingsince. Even in his mercy, Binkles affected me terribly. A weakness harries menow, and my health is fading. His grating croak and red gaze haunt my everydream. The sight of stagnant water or algae feels with fear. Binkles the frog is a horrible frog indeed...
The method behind the madness wasn't HAHA funny per se, but was rather layering multiple factors to make it kid of witty. (Was the thought anyway.)
1. Invoke a thought that the majority of people have probably thought at one time or another.
(Such as the 2nd winner did with the Beta key caption)
A thought such as "Man, why is Blizzcon always at Anaheim. I can't make it there." That, accompanied with the context that BLizzcon as around this time worked a bit in favour of it.
2. Layer in the popular mythos that the world will end in 2012 and play on that.
3. Mildly insult the locals of the area by referring them as zombies.
4. Bring in the context of Blizzcon related again making the figure a cosplayer.
Life isn't fair get over it.
What would be the point of making fake accounts and awarding them with nothing. What would the MODS gain from rewarding their fake accounts with "nothing" when basically all of them have played the Beta at some point.
This happens every single week over the caption contests and it is really annoying. If you don't win, try and win from the next competition. I don't recall anyone saying this will be an easy contest to get a Beta key.
So do I.
I have participated in all the contests because I believe there is the possibility I could be one of the lucky ones and actually win a key and be able to play Diablo 3 before its release. When the caption contest was first started, I also don't recall there being a disclaimer saying if you sign up on diablofans.com, participate, and win the contest that you have to remain a browser of this website or even come back to it ever again.
That's just how people are though, they get what they want and then leave which is disappointing. And I'm not saying all people are like that though but the majority probably didn't even know/care about this website before the contest for the beta key went up.
The end.
When sanctuary was created, life spread in every corner. Deep within the jungles near Kurast, life brings forth all sorts of creatures. But threats are always constant, even in the natural cycle of life, and the dead need guidance from this world.
Binkles is the spirit that watches over all life in the jungle. He is as old as he is wise, understands the path of life and the inevitability of death and embraces the constant turn from life to death to life again. Guiding those who die, and helping those who live, he keeps the jungle stable, prosper and evolving as a collective organism.
For centuries he lay dormant deep within the jungle, focusing his energies on his obligations. Emerging from his slumber every hundred years to take a look over the world, and prepare to carry on his duties as a guiding spirit.
But time would not wait for this cycle to end. And from the skies, a call emerges. The Meteor that fell into the Tristram Cathedral sent a wave through the world, awaking every spirit with eerie visions of imminent doom.
Binkles gazes upon life in his jungle, only able to observe the changes around him, the corruption growing sinking it's teeth into all living creatures. He can only hope that one will come to him, seeking his knowledge, and will help him restore the balance he seeks to protect.
INSTEAD.... complain here! ... http://www.diablofans.com/topic/31245-controversy-over-week-3-beta-contest/
Journal Entry 420:
Finally, my journey carried me to the fog enshrouded jungles of Kehjistan in search of the storied amphibian, Binkles the Frog. The subject of many a bard's hushed tale, scholars have tried and failed to confirm his existence through the ages. I started my my search among the ancient vine bound walls of Kurast... with more skepticism than hope, I confess. For weeks I confered with the most affluent, the most traveled, and the most learned of the jungle city's inhabitants, learning nothing. Most scoffed at my inquiry, fervently denying that the myths held any truth. Others were more civil, but had little knowledge to offer.
Then upon the night I planned to depart the city, my fortunate took a sudden turn. At the time, I thought, for the better. As I sat in the common room of the Inn, contemplating my notes, a bard began to play softly. And then in a soft voice he sang "Ballad of Binkles." Quite an old song, and practically nothing within it substantial enough to help me, even if it contained a grain of truth. Still for a moment I thought to ask the bard of my quarry. After all, when in pursuit of a myth, is a bard not more likely aid than a sage?
At the very moment I rose to approach, there was a piteous cry from one of the patrons. "Please,no! Don't sing of it! No!" I was startled, and yet hopeful. This was not the cries of some child frightened of fairy tales, but of a rugged and fierce man, who had the look of a traveler. I was imediately certain his fear was based not on stories, but on some dark and terrible memory. The other patrons laughed at his outburst and began to harass the man. He rose hurriedly and pressed through the jeering crowd, still weeping as he went. I followed him outside, where I found him curled up and cowering on the street, wracked with tremors. His eyes held a lost and vacant look. I introduced myself as a scholar and asked him what he knew of Binkles. "I came upon his lair accidentally. Those eyes... I'll never forget. The stories are all true. All of them. You do not want to find Binkles..."
A week later, I reached the object of my search. The foul creature's very den. The point marked on my map by the traveler was precisely correct. I had no doubt even as I stood outside. The entrance gaped dark in the rock, like the mouth of some ancient tomb, and sense of forboding permeated my very soul. Tendrils of fog reached out as if to beckon me onward, but reason and fear compelled me to turn away. Still after such a harrowing journey through Kehjistan's wretched swamps, how could one turn, just steps from a such a discovery. I gathered my wits and courage and stepped forward into that bleak crack. Long contemplation was out of the question. It does not pay to tarry in such macabre surroundings.
WIth each step into the nightmare, my terror grew, and yet my resolve held. Further and further I went, until I was in tunnels untouched by the light of the sun in eons. Yet I could see. The walls were covered with a grotesque algae that glowed a hideous shade of green. The air felt hot and strangely moist. I felt almost as though I were drowning in this oppressive atmosphere. Yet i psersisted, slipping and scurrying along the rock.
Then I reached the final chamber. A subtaranean lake, covered with thick, roiling algae, and strange black lilly pads. I know not how to write of the dread this place held for me. My resolve finally crumbled and I turned to run, unwilling to face he who dwelt there. But it was too late. I felt the algae entangling my legs and I fell forward. The plants moved as though alive, pulling down my arms and legs, holding me fast. Then, the diminutive monster approached, hopping from pad to pad. I expect most of my readers will laugh at this point, for he looked like a most ordinary frog. Yet for reasons completely intangible, you would never mistake him for such. Never before have I sinced such dark malice, such hatred in a being. Power radiated from it perceptibly. A bleak and cursed intellect stared unblinking from behind those black and glossy eyes.
"Binkles... of the Horodram..." I greeted him.
The frog coughed a strange laugh. "..of the Horodram... I have not heard that in a long time. So, my story is still told then?"
"With occasioanl embilishments and inconsistincies, yes." I replied, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
"I was once the greatest of the sages. And if they had listened to me, the world would not be on the brink. Power such as that held by the primeevils can not be hideen away in soulstones!" The frog croaked. "Such power is imortal, and it can not be contained. It can only be harnassed!"
With this the frog's eyes began to glow red, and I knew the legend was true in its entirity. Binkles, of the Horadram had warned against hiding the soulstones away, and advocated trying to use the power instead. Some stories say his ideas were concocted by the stone's dark influence, twisting his mind in such close proximity. Others, that his thoughts were prophetic. He devised a ritual to attempt to harness the power of the stone, and stole it away from the other mages. During the end of the ritual he was interrupted by his Horadoric brethren, who had found him just in time. The ritual was intricate, and the interruption came as the spell began to coalesce, altering the energies subtly. Instead of draining Diablo's power into himself, he was turned to a frog. Yet the evil power of the stone did strengthen him and twist his powers to evil. The dread frog had then carved a swath of destruction with his wrathful magic until he reached Kehjistan and settled into his lair never again to venture into daylight.
Now all that storied magical energy was twisting around me. To what ends I did not know. I feared death would be merciful compared to what the dread frog held in store for me. Then with a heart rending ribbit, his spell was complete and I was portaled away. I awoke weeks later, deathly sick, upon a bed in Kurast. I had found the subject of my search, yet I took no pleasure in it, nor anything since. Even in his mercy, Binkles effected me terribly. A weakness harries me, and my health is fading. His croaks and red gaze haunt my every dream. The sight of water, or a swamp, or anything remotely associated with frogs feels me with fear.
Binkles the frog is a horrible frog indeed...
Binkles and Sholan had always been rivals and competed for Zolten Kulle's appreciation of their worth as necromancers. They both had different qualities, Binkles had always been above average at summoning and simply lacked the interest of expanding the view to other elements of necromancy. Sholan on the other hand only had the skill to master curses and nothing else. They put their rivalries aside and combined their different specialities in hope of restoring their beloved master.
Two years passed and together they managed to recover all of his body except for the head, and knew that the protectors of Zolten Kulles' head were onto them, nevertheless they found the Tomb of Lost Souls where Zolten Kulles' head was guarded, not just by wizards but also by the horadrim. Binkles summoned scouts to infiltrate the tomb and see if there was any way they could get passed the guards unnoticed. The scouts returned with news of a cracked wall on the east side of the tomb with just enough space to slip through. Easily enough they got in. Once inside they made their way through endless halls and narrow corridors until finally they arrived at a very dark and ominous hall, they could not see the walls of the room or the ground for there was only a bridge, and across the bridge in the vast distance a strange light flickered and Binkles yelled: "There he is! It's our master!". And sprinted across the bridge in hope of finding the head of Zolten Kulle. Sholan noticed movements in the vast empty darkness surrounding the bridge and suddenly Binkles vanished into the darkness that the bridge disappeared into... It was silent, too silent, Sholan couldn't hear Binkles' footsteps... But suddenly a scream in the distance, Sholans' heart rate increased rapidly... Was that Binkles? Was it someone else? And if so then who?... Sholan had to think quick and remembered that Binkles was carrying vital parts of Zolten Kulle, there was no other option but to sprint across the bridge in the darkness and hope for the best. Halfway across the bridge Sholan heard his feet splash against the floor of the bridge and noticed it was covered in blood, Sholan assumed the worst and charged on ahead following the path of blood and found the body of Binkles lying there, hardly recognizable from the severe wounds. Sholan fell to his knees, in shock of what he saw in front of him, his heart rate increased even further when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching from behind him, three, four maybe five different footsteps, too many to count. Sholan stood up, filled with anger, turned around and the footsteps stopped... He could see six fully armed guards standing in front of him, but before one of them could speak, Sholan cast Iron Maiden on them while he charged at them armed only with a dagger and Zolten Kulles arm, the guards showed no signs of backing down from a necromancer with a dagger and a severed limb and engaged, within seconds all six of the guards were on the floor, either dead or severely injured. Finally Sholan fell to the floor, as he could not endure the wounds inflicted by the guards... Sholan lied there, tears began to form in his eyes as he looked over Binkles' corpse. He reminisced about his memories with Binkles and realized how juvenile and insignificant their little rivalries were, Binkles had always shown more potential than he, and so with what little strength he could conjure in his last moments he sacrificed himself to hopefully resurrect Binkles and immediately crashed down.
More guards showed up after a few moments and cleared the corpses as well as collecting Zoltan Kulles' parts and restored them to their tombs for safe keeping. Having barely stopped a couple of novice necromancer apprentices from restoring Zolten Kulle, they were summoned before Tyrael to answer for their inadequate performance in their duties. On their way there a little frog managed slip away unnoticed from one of the guards' person, for that the guards had failed to notice that the frog initially came onto their person in the Tomb of Lost Souls. The frog just sat there quietly... Mourning the loss of her dear friend.
The other townsfolk greeted the hero. He was a savior to their plight. A star had fallen days ago and from that eruption a great evil had been unleashed. The hero, whom the others called Khan, had spoken to everyone in town and he now approached Binkles.
“Hail to you, most strange creature.”
The man spoke but Binkles did not hear.
Binkles thought of a time long past. It was a time where his fellow bunnies frolicked in the city of Harrogath, a time where chickens roamed free of any worries among the citizens of Tristram, and a time where scarab beetles need not worry themselves of the heels of “heroes.”
No. Those times were long gone. Instead, Binkles could only think of the massacre of the bunny tribe of Harragoth. The great bunny lord Twinkles was roasted on a spit that day by a “hero” barbarian. The rest of the tribe was trampled by other such heroes. These heroes claimed to be saving the world, yet the denizens of Binkles’ world only saw death. The chickens of Tristram had long since been chased away. To this day none could be found within a mile of town. The scarabs of Lut Gholein had long since vanished, squashed under the foot of these heroes. And the bunnies. The bunnies were no more.
Binkles’ toad tribe was fortunate. They escaped the great massacre in Kurast and they had ever since carried a great burden. For centuries they had trained with one goal in mind. And now… the time was approaching. Binkles would have his revenge. Yes, he would avenge his fallen comrades.
The barbarian named Khan was awaiting an answer. Binkles wished with all his heart to scream, “I WILL HAVE YOUR SOUL!”
He must not give himself away.
“Ribbit,” Binkles croaked and he hopped away into the night.
And what da hell Mr. Binkles thankin wen he dun & picked the most craptastic picture for week 3 of the Beta contest?!?! I believe Mista Binkles needs ta stop smokin dat whackee tah-backee & pull his head outta hi lil froggie ass! Whoooo wee!
Tha End.
Binkles has watched carefully over his frog brethren since the birth of Sanctuary, granting great power when earned and cursing those who dare attempt to use is amphibious minions without his blessing. In all the history of Sanctuary, few have been granted the ability to wield his brethren in battle. The lucky Umbaru who please Binkles exit the Ghost Trance with the power to unleash torrents of poisonous frogs on their foes, swallowing them whole or stinging them with the poisonous vengeance of Binkles.
The problem that we face is that we can't pick anyone that uses any references (memes, pop culture, movies, etc.) from outside the series (everyone's first complaint), so that eliminates 95% of them. Then we got in trouble for picking one that focused on image usage and didn't include a caption, so we had to be sure entries had literal captions.
The problem is that people would find issues with anything we picked. If we picked one of the excellent ones that were like comic books, we would be slammed for picking one that didn't have a caption format. If we picked one that was an animated GIF, we'd get in trouble because it wasn't a strict image. If we picked one that was nearly entirely hand drawn we'd get in trouble because it used too little of the original image.
Now we picked one that was strictly and literally a caption in every sense of the word. It contained one caption and used only wit to compose its message. It didn't edit the real image at all. So, in lieu of any real counterargument, we're slammed with "it's fixed!" arguments.
Because we clearly couldn't just hand out a beta key to all our friends (or better yet, the staff that didn't even get a key and they've been here in many cases for years) and not go through all the trouble of this contest and all the negative energy its creating.
In short, no matter what we do, we're screwed, because someone won't get what they want and won't be happy.
I'm not saying everyone's feelings are unjustified. For the first round, I can personally see why there was so much e-rage, although now it's clear what we're expecting and still we get the ass in our faces. But because so many people registered just to get into the beta, or crawled out of the woodwork (we still love you!) for this contest, many people were bound to be disappointed because they didn't win and blame their luck on a communal "they," in this case, the judges who waded through thousands and thousands of entries to discern posts that conformed to the complaints you guys are posting the most while still being comical.
It just happens. We accept that and move on. If we had a thousand thousand keys to give out to a thousand thousand posts, we would gladly do so. Because we love our members is the reason that we want to do this. You guys all deserve beta keys for loving the series so much. But we only have so many, so we decided it would be best to hand them out in a way that lets people have fun at the same time and enjoy the franchise we've been writing and reading about (not to mention playing!) for over a decade.
All that said, I'm really excited about this contest and can't wait to read what you guys come up with. I hope we can all come to an understanding some day
One day while fighting a wizard Binkles had planned on taking her body so he could infiltrate the wizard’s organization and attempt to destroy all wizards. Little did he know this particular wizard knew who he was and about his body changing trick. She played along with it pretending to be less of a match she was hoping he would try and take her body so she could lay a trap of her own. After some time when she became very weak he made his move, but the wizard fully aware of this. Grabbed a frog from the sack on her waist she flung it in his direction. Binkles had transferred his body to a frog and not into the wizard body. With Binkles having no way of being able to communicate in human language to cast his ability he will forever be stuck in this frogs body and only known only as Binkles the Frog.
Journal Entry 420:
*Revised*
Finally, my journey carried me to the mist enshrouded jungles of Kehjistan insearch of the storied amphibian, Binkles the Frog. The subject of many a bard'stale, scholars have tried and failed to confirm his existence through the ages.I started my search among the ancient vine bound walls of Kurast... with moreskepticism than hope, I confess. For weeks I conferred with the most affluent,the most traveled, and the most wise of the jungle city's inhabitants, learningnothing. Most scoffed at my inquiry, fervently denying that the myths held anytruth. Others were more civil, but had little knowledge to offer.
Then upon the night I planned to depart the city, my fortune took a sudden turn. At the time, I thought, for the better. As Isat in the common room of the Inn, contemplating my notes, a bard began to playsoftly. Then in a soft voice he sang "The Ballad of Binkles." It is quitean old song, and practically nothing within it was substantial enough to helpme, even if it contained a grain of truth. Still for a moment I thought to askthe bard of my quarry. After all, when in pursuit of a myth, is a bard not morelikely aid than a sage?
At the very moment I rose to approach, there was a piteous cry from one of thepatrons. "Please,no! Don't sing of it! No!" I was startled, and yethopeful. This was not the cries of some child frightened of fairy tales, but ofa rugged and fierce man, who had the look of a traveler. I was immediatelycertain his fear was based not on stories, but upon some dark and terriblememory. The other patrons laughed at his outburst and began to harass the man.He rose hurriedly and pressed through the jeering crowd, still weeping as hewent. I followed him outside, where I found him curled up and cowering on thestreet, wracked with tremors. His eyes held a lost and vacant look. Iintroduced myself as a scholar and asked him what he knew of Binkles. "Icame upon his lair accidentally. Those eyes... I'll never forget. The storiesare all true. All of them. You do not want to find Binkles..."
A week later, I reached the object of my search. I had found the foul creature's very den. The point markedon my map by the traveler was precisely correct. I had no doubt even as I stood outside. Theentrance gaped dark in the rock, like the mouth of some ancient tomb, and asense of foreboding permeated my verysoul. Tendrils of fog reached out as if to beckon me onward, but reason andfear compelled me to turn away. Still after a harrowing journey through Kehjistan's wretched swamps, how could oneturn, just steps from such a discovery.I gathered my wits and stepped forward into that bleak crack. Longcontemplation was out of the question. It does not pay to tarry in such macabresurroundings.
With each step into the nightmare, my terror grew, and yet my resolve held.Further and further I went, until I was in tunnels untouched by the light ofthe sun in eons. Yet I could see. The walls were covered with grotesque algaethat emitted an eerie green glow. The air felt hot and strangely moist. I feltalmost as though I were drowning in this oppressive atmosphere. Yet I persisted,slipping and scurrying along the rock.
Then I reached the final chamber. A subterranean lake, covered with thick,roiling algae and strange black lily pads. I know not how to write of the dreadthis place held for me. My resolve finally crumbled and I turned to run,unwilling to face he who dwelt there. But it was too late. I felt the algaeentangling my legs and fell forward. The plants moved as though alive, pullingdown my arms and legs, holding me fast. Then, the diminutive monsterapproached, hopping from pad to pad. I expect most of my readers will laugh atthis point, for he looked like a most ordinary frog. Yet for reasons completelyintangible, you would never mistake him for such. Never before have I sensedsuch dark malice, such hatred in a being. Power radiated from it perceptibly. Ableak and cursed intellect stared unblinking from behind those black and glossyeyes.
"Binkles... of the Horadrim..." I greeted him.
The frog coughed a strange laugh. "..Of the Horadrim... I have not heardthat in a long time. So, my story isstill told then?"
"With occasional embellishments and inconsistencies, yes." I replied,trying to keep my voice from trembling.
"I was once the greatest of the sages. And if they had listened to me, theworld would not be on the brink. Power such as that held by the prime evils cannotbe hidden away in soulstones!" The frog croaked. "Such power is immortal,and it cannot be contained. It can only be harnessed!"
With this the frog's eyes began to glow red, and I knew the legend was true inits entirety. When Diablo was captured, Binkles, of the Horadrim had warnedagainst hiding the soulstones away, and advocated trying to use the powerinstead. Some stories say his ideas were concocted by the stone's darkinfluence, twisting his mind in such close proximity. Others, that his thoughts were prophetic. Hedevised a ritual to attempt to harness the power of the stone, and stole itaway from the other mages. During the end of the ritual he was interrupted byhis Horadric brethren, who had found him just in time. The ritual wasintricate, and the interruption came as the spell began to coalesce, alteringthe energies subtly. Instead of draining Diablo's power into himself, he wasturned to a frog. Yet the evil power of the stone did strengthen him and twisthis powers to evil. The dread frog had then carved a swath of destruction withhis wrathful magic until he reached Kehjistan and settled into his lair neveragain to venture into daylight.
Now all that storied magical energy was twisting around me. To what ends I didnot know. I feared death would be merciful compared to what the dread frog heldin store for me. Then with a heart rending ribbit, his spell was complete and Iwas portaled away. I awoke weeks later, deathly sick, upon a bed in Kurast. Ihad found the subject of my search, yet I took no pleasure in it, nor anythingsince. Even in his mercy, Binkles affected me terribly. A weakness harries menow, and my health is fading. His grating croak and red gaze haunt my everydream. The sight of stagnant water or algae feels with fear.
Binkles the frog is a horrible frog indeed...
The method behind the madness wasn't HAHA funny per se, but was rather layering multiple factors to make it kid of witty. (Was the thought anyway.)
1. Invoke a thought that the majority of people have probably thought at one time or another.
(Such as the 2nd winner did with the Beta key caption)
A thought such as "Man, why is Blizzcon always at Anaheim. I can't make it there." That, accompanied with the context that BLizzcon as around this time worked a bit in favour of it.
2. Layer in the popular mythos that the world will end in 2012 and play on that.
3. Mildly insult the locals of the area by referring them as zombies.
4. Bring in the context of Blizzcon related again making the figure a cosplayer.
Just thought i'd try and justify it. <3