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Flavius Belisarius posted:You guys are all caught up in this dwarven saboteur conspiracy, but we never did catch Bad Weasel, did we? I caught those pesky meddling kids. I might also take credit for JollyPubJerk, too.
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May 1, 2013 23:46
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Leperflesh posted:Oooh Ooh! I hope his or her name is both "Veekie" and "Vander"! ... ah, crap.
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May 2, 2013 00:45
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Knockknees posted:I don't even remember what was so bad about that weasel... Oh, nothing too important, really. Nothing of value was lost. Lousy goddamn weasel.
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May 2, 2013 01:11
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nvining posted:... ah, crap. Close. I swear it's always some kind of summoning ritual with you guys.
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May 2, 2013 14:55
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OhCrap posted:Close. Ia! Ia! Bada munkithagn! 
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May 2, 2013 16:48
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Why are my ears burning?
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May 2, 2013 16:53
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Bad Munki posted:Why are my ears burning? Maybe it's because everything else is, too.
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May 2, 2013 17:01
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Sky Shadowing posted:Maybe it's because everything else is, too. Just as I may or may not arrive too... DRAMATIC TENSION.
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May 2, 2013 17:26
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Are we back at LPing Bad Munki again? We need an update soon.
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May 2, 2013 17:36
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Yes, sorry for the delays - real life has been hitting really hard rather suddenly this week and I'm totally playing catch-up on everything. I'll try to get this update finished over my lunch break. Teaser:  ... which is rather predictable, really. (Note that TilDEATH is still hanging out in his lava moping spot.) nvining fucked around with this message at 18:49 on May 2, 2013 |
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May 2, 2013 18:46
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 The Fifteenth Chronicles of Bronzestabbed a chronicle of unknown providence, believed to be by the author of "The Creepy Sheep Wool Mask: Fact or Fiction?" CHAPTER NINE The Malachite Coffer; Digging Greedily and Deeply; w00tmonger versus the Kangaroo; Pickled Tink Haunts the Fortress; The Mandate of HUNDREDHOGS; Chariot Throws a Tantrum; Artistic Creations of Rodyle; A Joyful Birth; Passing Encounter with a Forgotten Beast The summer of 248, dear reader, was lazy and quiet. Too quiet. Late into the night, dear reader, the dwarf Storger the Destroyer laboured over his creation. It would be beautiful. So beautiful. It would represent everything that he knew. But what, he wondered, did he know? Well, destruction, mainly. Also, rocks. So perhaps something nice made out of rocks. Something useful, that you could put other things in, like rocks! Something that menaced with an appropriate thing, like skunk bone.. Why yes, he thought to himself, that would be perfect.  It was beautiful. It was covered in bones and gems. Anybody who saw it was immediately creeped out by it. It was Toral Dural, the malachite coffer.  Naturally, the first thing that happened is that Rurik stored his incredibly disturbing Sheep Wool Mask in it.  Elsewhere in the fortress, other miners thought about death and destruction. In front of them, adamantine, the metal that drives dwarves mad. They say that it is the dust from the adamantine that gets into their nasal cavities, and from there it proceeds directly to the brain. Once you have the dust of adamantine in your brain, all you can think about is that precious metal. More adamantine was found. It was dug. Soon, it would be processed into strands by bored strand extractors, who had been waiting all their life for this moment. At any moment, dear reader, they might dig too greedily and too deep. But, like all addicts, there will come a point where they cannot stop themselves any more. Such is the fate of all dwarves.  Meanwhile, the hunter w00tmonger was searching for something. It was leaping all over the place. It was annoying. And he was going to put a bolt through its head.  What *was* a Kangaroo, anyway? Maybe it was like a Bad Weasel. No, thought w00tmonger, as he pursued his quarry, it is the Worst Weasel, and I am going to kill it.  Dear reader, the dwarf Samuel L. Jackson had been experimenting with badassery, and foul language. A modern dwarf for a modern age. When a little voice crept up behind him and said 'woo, I'm a ghost! wooooo!', Samuel L. Jackson let loose with a flaming expletive and shot out of the magma forges. The ghost of Pickled Tink, Dwarven Child and political dissident, looked around puzzled. "I... only wanted to complain about something," it whispered sadly to nobody in particular. Then its face brightened. "And I'm going to KEEP complaining until somebody listens!"  Elsewhere, the new mayor of Bronzestabbed, HUNDRED HOGS, was trying to open a bottle of dwarven wine and failing. How were you supposed to behave like a politician if you couldn't even get your wine open? "Somebody!" he yelled. "Bring me... a corkscrew."  "No, actually," he continued, "bring me THREE corkscrews. Giant ones. For drinking emergencies."  Chariot, dear reader, was not feeling very happy at the world. The commission to put beautiful art on a large, mysterious column hanging in space had been a wonderful, crowning achievement, and she had studded it with masterworks and superb engravings. When it all plunged into the lava, she was... annoyed, to say the least. "That DOES IT!" she shouted. "I'm going to... going to... going to..."  "I'm going to go outside! OUTSIDE! You'll see! You'll ALL SEE!"  She charged down the hall, throwing dwarves left and right. "You'll all regret destroying my art when I come back full of Murk!" She got as far as the main hallway when the murk decided to inconveniently disappear.  "... drat," she muttered, defeated. The correct thing to do, dear reader, when your life is in trouble is to express your opinions in the form of art. Such as, for instance, this barrel:  What does the leech represent? Perhaps it represents the nobility. Still, all who view the image feel that it is a Pretty Good Barrel and as such deserves to be appreciated.  The architect Athenborous had been working on her newest project. Dear reader, let us welcome the baby Veekie to the world.  At the last minute she thought about naming the child Vander, but decided against it.  The trader Red October, who came to Bronzestabbed for its culture of vomit-based violence, was retrieving adamantine strands from the bottom layer of the fortress. "Did I hear something?" she wondered aloud. Then she came face to face with something horrible. nvining fucked around with this message at 19:27 on May 2, 2013 |
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May 2, 2013 19:25
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nvining posted:The trader Red October, who came to Bronzestabbed for its culture of vomit-based violence, was retrieving adamantine strands from the bottom layer of the fortress. drat it, nvining! How can you leave us hanging like this? Please never stop. 
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May 3, 2013 01:36
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Except when your turn is over, you should probably stop then. 
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May 3, 2013 01:40
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I am okay with that even. A good suspenseful turn end is a thing of joy.
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May 3, 2013 05:06
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Looks like my dwarf is going to be joining the military soon and then get hacked to bits or eaten by a Forgotten Monster. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next.
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May 3, 2013 11:24
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Ooh a box! An incredibly disturbing box with an even more disturbing mask inside. What a good girl.  Btw, my dwarf is a girl...
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May 4, 2013 20:09
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Holy poo poo guys I think I just found a hole in the story!  Remember this? Bad Munki posted:
Then how do you explain this? The murked dwarf couldn't have died in a cage if the structure could be brought down only by an uncaged murked dwarf! Bad Munki is a phony, a big phony! 
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May 4, 2013 20:57
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Rurik posted:Bad Munki is a phony, a big phony! He's a witch, burn him!
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May 5, 2013 00:14
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Rurik posted:Holy poo poo guys I think I just found a hole in the story!  Perhaps that message refers to the Monolith itself as the cage, did you think of that? A prison of stone, caged for all eternity, or until lava, whichever comes first! Spermy Smurf posted:He's a witch, burn him!
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May 5, 2013 00:20
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Bad Munki posted:
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May 5, 2013 01:48
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The Fifteenth Histories of Bronzestabbed a chronicle written and handed down by the ghostly dwarven child 'Pickled Tink' while he walked this earth in what he referred to as "eternal termites", in accordance with the great oral traditions of Bronzestabbed (dictated to, but not read by, Spermy Smurf) (also, Pickled Tink would like to you know - daddy is still a bad dwarf and is burning in the fires of Armok's forge) CHAPTER TEN Somebody Forgot the Forgotten Beast; Leperfish and the Queen; Death of a Beekeeper; Some Merchants Arrive; Leperfish; The Queen; A Traitor Red October stared at the forgotten beast, and in a sudden panic the creature scurried back into the dark. Various members of the military tried to figure out where the Forgotten Beast went - and, in fact, *which* Forgotten Beast it was that actually attacked. None of the forgotten beasts, dear reader, seem to have moved. In fact, the entire thing was highly suspicious. Red October was sure that she had seen what she had seen, however - no matter what anybody else told her, that thing was nasty and was absolutely not a Kangaroo, whatever that is.  In the Late Summer of 248, dear reader, the dwarf Leperfish and Queen Sankis found themselves in the same room, eating lunch. It was a very awkward conversation, as neither one had anything particularly that they wished to say to each other. Leperfish may have stuttered something about it being a nice day, and Queen Sankis may have grunted either in the affirmative or the negative, but it doesn't really matter. The silence was awkward and poignant.  Out in the woods, the beekeeper Boing was happily singing the Bee Song. It went something like this: "Bees! BEES! Beesbees, beesbees, bees..."  In this instant, the goblin thief struck.  "Bees! NOT MY FOOT!" Boing limped off into the foliage as the Goblin Thief, startled, disappeared from whence it came. Shortly thereafter, she was found dead on the ground.  Her final words were, apparently, "... not the bees..."  Dear reader, some merchants arrived. The mayor HUNDRED HOGS, still desperately searching for a corkscrew, went off to trade. "So," he said slowly, "What HAVE you got?"  "Oh, I see. A lot of cheese. Ah. Well, just give us all your booze, cloth and thread, same as last year's order then." "... no, we don't want any of the cheese. No, really. PLEASE."  Dear reader, the Autumn has come.  Leperfish found himself, in the Statue Tower of Bronzestabbed, thinking.  It had not been a good year. Many dwarves had died. Many fine dwarves, many of his friends, had fallen to the rising and terrible darkness that threatened all dwarves. Forgotten beasts had come through the fortress, ravaging all in their midst. A vile force of darkness had descended upon the fortress, where goblins and ogres had smashed through good dwarves like plump helmets. Worst of all, somebody had put a death trap in the fortress. And then somebody else... had set it off. In an instant, the dwarf Leperfish was acutely aware of his own mortality. Was this what drove all dwarves to search for the secrets of life and death? No overseer had held the till of the Rare Ship this year. No overseer had been able to steer them, to guide them, to mold the fortress to their vision for the year. There had not been Progress. There had just been... stillness. And yet... no overseers this year. No dwarf had died due to the folly of a dwarf who had proclaimed themselves to be the leader of the Civilization, with their own quests in the name of folly, vanity, and pride. Perhaps the evil within the Ripe Ship was, in fact, the overseers themselves. Perhaps, he thought, they were the rot from within. And then, there was the matter of the queen. She had not spoken to him all year. She didn't... something... something was not right. What could one dwarf do, he asked himself, against the forces of evil? Dear reader, that is always the question. What can one dwarf do against the forces of evil? Truth be told, that has always been the question. But once, I promised you truths, and such truths you will have. Elsewhere in the fortress, the mysterious trader who arrived in the summer of 248 was deep in conversation with Queen Sankis. "Your majesty," he softly intoned, his voice honeyed and silken, "I apologize for the delays in returning to the fortress. It was necessary to... arrange my absence, and to... take a new body, shall we say? You know how it is. Secrets of life and death and all that." "Ah," said Sankis. "I see. And yet, how ingenious of you to fake your death." "Truthfully," apologized the mysterious dwarf, "it was necessary. I fear that your problems in this fortress run deeper than you might think, hence I... arranged to disappear. Everybody was so very distracted." "And that business with the overseer Internet Kraken," mused the queen. "That was clever." "A mere trifle," sniffed the dwarf. "Elementary water necromancy, nothing more." The queen frowned. "And yet, your actions have been bold this term. Too bold. Your trap didn't work. Leperfish lives. The traitors live, our agenda is spoiled, ... and my coffins are not yet filled." "Fear not," said the dwarf. "I shall reintroduce myself; I shall walk among my fellows, and they shall never remember that I left. Such, your majesty, are the powers of the Secrets of Life and Death." "Truthfully," said the Queen, "they are... powerful. And you can..." She paused, her mouth hungry. "... can you show me?" "All in good time," said the dwarf. Their meeting done, the dwarves separated and went their separate ways. They could not be seen to be meeting each other. That would be far too obvious. The lone dwarf chuckled to himself. "In the year 248," he intoned softly, padding down the hall, "the Queen Sankis concluded a meeting with her right-hand dwarf, the Corruptor, the water necromancer..."  "... Bad Munki." HEREIN ENDETH THE FIFTEENTH CHRONICLES OF BRONZESTABBED.
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May 6, 2013 04:01
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 Well, that's a hell of a way to end the turn.Well done on an awesome year, also. Looking forward to seeing where it goes from here.
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May 6, 2013 04:25
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I uhhh. Huh. Well I didn't see that coming. Pickled Tink was our narrator? Bad Munki is reborn? Sankis condones treachery and water necromancy? Boing was a beekeeper? Well, it's certainly something to think about. And so is the next Call for Overseers! Once again as always it's time for another goon to take the rudder and steer The Rare Ship to new horizons. Submit your name here to apply. The spreadsheet is here. Please only apply if you have copious amounts of time over the next two to three weeks or so. As before, if you have previously Overseen, you may apply, but I will only include you in the random selection if there are no first-time applicants. I will select the next Overseer in approximately roughly about 24 hours ish from now.
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May 6, 2013 06:53
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Wow, this was certainly a turn of events. Masterful, nvining. 
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May 6, 2013 07:13
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Bracing self and hoping that only us reapplying overseers show up. I promise that if I get a (nother) turn, it will be glorious.
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May 6, 2013 07:20
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Thadius posted:Bracing self and hoping that only us reapplying overseers show up. ... you mean somebody applied *other* than Munki? SHAME! SHAME I SAY. Er, yes. Anyhow, glad everybody enjoyed my turn; I'm glad I was reasonably entertaining and I did get research done for my day job. Can't wait to see how the next overseer resolves things...
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May 6, 2013 07:31
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People of The Rare Ship! I stand here in this... fine... dining hall, to use the term loosely, to point out I am the only new candidate left for overseership. The others have had their time and gone, dismissed in disgrace or through political bickering, and now only I remain. I would encourage you to vote for me with visions of mead, fresh socks and glorious futures, but I no longer need to. I will reign with an iron fist over this little hole in the ground. I will bring fear to the tunnels, chaos to our enemies, and magma to everyone. I care not for your wretched lives, only that my plans and machines be completed. Vote Seagoon. You have no other choice  .
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May 6, 2013 07:51
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Neddy Seagoon posted:People of The Rare Ship! Oh Neddy, you silly twisted boy, you.
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May 6, 2013 08:10
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Neddy Seagoon posted:Ia! Ia! Bada munkithagn! OVERSEER NECROMANCER!!! Bad Munki posted:Except when your turn is over, you should probably stop then. Heeding your own advice, I see?
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May 6, 2013 08:34
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Well that's...that's really something
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May 6, 2013 16:58
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Bad Munki posted:Well that's...that's really something You're back! yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
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May 6, 2013 18:43
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Fantastic turn, nvining. Very entertaining. Also: We meet again, Munki.
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May 6, 2013 18:43
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The save is up on the overseer site. As usual: no spoilers, people.
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May 6, 2013 18:48
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Spermy Smurf posted:Fantastic turn, nvining. Very entertaining. So...at last, we meet, for the first time, for the last time...
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May 6, 2013 18:59
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Good drat stuff nvining. Even though the fort is far too large for me to manage effectively considering that I am only now attempting to learn how to pump stack, it's still great to see you guys play the game. Each turn I learn something new about the game thanks to you guys, so keep overseering on!
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May 7, 2013 06:54
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Well, we've got two applicants who haven't Overseen before: Neddy Seagoon and Pickled Tink. Bad Munki I know you are watching this. I see you. (1d2=2) Congatulations, Pickled Tink! You're our next Overseer! Please go ahead and visit the Overseer site, download the save, and get yourself up; but we need to chat via email before you unpause and start taking your turn. You can PM me or (preferably) email me, my user name at gmail.com.
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May 7, 2013 07:11
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Leperflesh posted:Congatulations, Pickled Tink! You would rather elect a  I honestly thought Pickled Tink had had a turn already at some point (thus giving me a clean shot at overseership), but I guess that must've just been from all the excitement about him being locked in that magma-covered cell. Congrats, Tink!
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May 7, 2013 09:25
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Leperflesh posted:Congatulations, Pickled Tink! You're our next Overseer!  Email and PM sent. I downloaded the save this morning before work. Neddy Seagoon posted:You would rather elect a Edit: Computer repair was a partial success. I was able to replace one of the fans. Pickled Tink fucked around with this message at 15:42 on May 7, 2013 |
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May 7, 2013 09:58
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Neddy Seagoon posted:You would rather elect a Keep this intensity up just in case Bad Munki is still alive when you get your overseer turn. That bastard will pay for what he's done to me.
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May 7, 2013 13:07
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Spermy Smurf posted:That bastard will pay for what he's done to me. I don't even remember what it was anymore. That's how much (little) it meant to me.
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May 7, 2013 13:24
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