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While the PC game already offers eight races from Blood Bowlworld (from a selection of more than twenty races), players will bepleased to know that the Dark Elves will be available as a freedownload this November. The full game will also be available as adigital download, and in most stores in a special version of thegame called the "Blood Bowl Dark Elves Edition". This edition willfeature the entire Blood Bowl game with the addition of the famousDark Elves.
Before the album's release, West initiated the free music program GOOD Fridays through his website beginning August 20, 2010, offering a free download of a new song for each Friday.[74][75] West tweeted that he was aware "y'all need the music so I'm dropping 1 new song every weekend until Xmas", explaining a release could be a song by him, Jay-Z, or another artist.[75] Titled after his imprint label GOOD Music, the program generated considerable publicity ahead of the release of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Young Money Entertainment online marketing coordinator Karen Civil retrospectively called the program genius, detailing: "He did something no one had ever done before, and at a point when he was the most hated person in music, he brought excitement back with his Friday releases."[74] GOOD Fridays was originally intended to run until December 2010, but West extended it through to January 2011.[74][76]
It began by my refusing point-blank to take Kate to the vicar's to watchthe soldiers march by. I loved the vicar, the grave, sweet, childless oldman who had been a second father to me since the sad day which made mymother a widow, and but for the soldiers nothing would have been moreagreeable than to spend the afternoon with the old man and his books. Butmy heart would surely have broken had I gone. A caged linnet is a sorryenough sight in a withdrawing-room, but hang the cage on a tree in asunlit garden, with free birds twittering and flitting about it, and youturn dull pain into shattering agony. The vicar's little study, with therows of books he had made me know and love with some small measure of hisown learning and passion, was the perch and seed-bowl of my cage, thethings in it, after my sweet mother and saucy Kate, that made lifepossible, but still part of the cage, and it would have maddened me to hopand twitter there in sight of free men with arms in their hands andcareers in front of them. Jack Dobson would march by, the sweetness oflife for Kate--little dreamed she that I knew it--but for me thebitterness of death. Jack Dobson! I liked Jack, but not clinquant incrimson and gold, with spurs and sword clanking on the hard, frost-bittenroad. I laughed at the idea; Jack Dobson, whom I had fought time and timeagain at school until I could lick him as easily as I could look at him;Jack Dobson, a jolly enough lad, who fought cheerily even when he knew asound thrashing was in store for him, but all his brains were good for wasto stumble through Arma virumque cano, and then whisper, "Noll, youcan fire a gun and shoot a man, but how can you sing 'em?" And because histhin, shadowy, grasping father was a man of much outward substance andburgess for the ancient borough, Jack was cornet in my Lord Brocton'snewly raised regiment of dragoons, this day marching with other of theDuke of Cumberland's troops from Lichfield to Stafford. And for me, thepride of old Bloggs for Latin and of all the lads for fighting, the moststirring deed of arms available was shooting rabbits. So, consuminginwardly with thoughts of my hard fate, I refused to go to the vicar's.Mother should go. For her it would be a real treat, and Kate would be thebetter under her quiet, seeing eyes.
Arrived in the shelter of the wood, I began picking my way through thethick undergrowth towards the road. Fallen branchlets snapped beneath myheedless feet and the sounds rang in my ears like pistol-shots. A saucyrobin cocked his care-free eye on me from the top of a crab-tree, and Icould have envied him as I stumbled by. It was perhaps fourscore yardsthrough, and half-way I stopped to listen. Yes, there came to my ear theslow trot-ot-ot of hoofs on the hard road. I went on again until, throughthe leafless tangle, I began to get glimpses of the highway. My fate wasdragging me on. In a month's time my shrivelling carcase might be swingingin chains on the top of Wes'on Bank, an ensample to evil-doers. Thethought made me shiver, and I jerked out a broken prayer that my intendedvictim might turn out some fat, unarmed farmer, as easy a prey as anover-fed gander. Then I cursed myself for a fool. No man can mortgage pastpiety for present sin. Who was I that I should be allowed to steal on goodsecurity?
The master hand of the Colonel was in this beyond a doubt. With a loudcurse, the sergeant, who was on the side away from the farm, opened thedoor and was for leaping out. He bethought himself and half turned, onehand on the door and one foot on the step, to look an evil inquiry at me.That half-turn was his undoing. Part of the living, struggling torrent ofcattle was shoved round our way and came sweeping by. One beast brushedthe door open even as he glared at me and tumbled him outwards. As hetwisted in his fall another drove her sharp horns clean into him, andshook and twirled him off again like a terrier playing with a rat. Therearguard turned tail and fled. The vanguard had simply been swept off thescene, and I saw them spurring up the slope with the cattle surging afterthem. The plan had been thought out to a nicety and had worked toperfection. I was free, free for Margaret. I sat down again dizzied andhappy.
After much turning and twisting we came in sight of a small house of greystone which, from its appearance and situation, I judged to be somegentleman's shooting lodge. We cut across the valley, on one slope ofwhich it stood, and I caught a glimpse of cottage roofs beyond it. Weworked round to the rear of the house, and, in a favouring clump of trees,his lordship called a halt. The horses were tethered, and I was lifteddown, and the rings round my ankles were unlocked. The men took one each,and carried their carbines in their free hands. Brocton drew his rapier,and said, "Forward! Make a sound, show the slightest sign of resistance,and I run you through." 041b061a72