Diary of Robocorn Passgears, Plan of ultimate Dwarfhood
In the days of old we dwarves have had a great tradition of hosing our enemies down until they die. Be it water or
magma, my forebearers have done well with this formula. I will however do one better.
A sea, a great underground reservoir of toxic slime left by some reeking abomination that climbed outta hell to make
sure I was having fun. When I saw this horrifying mire of bodily fluid, I new I must delve to employ it for my own benefit. A dangerous task, but if I was interested in saving lives I wouldn't have made the plan in the first place.
I'm beginning to see the folly of choosing the body of a child. The only people who listen to you are idiots. here they are wandering around out in the skelk infested wilds with no equipment just asking to be slaughtered outright. The bastards have yet t' learn a thing from living in Battlefailed. Even after I tell 'em not to bother with the damn discarded bolts they refuse to go in because something has spooked them.
Skelks.
I send out a legendary axedwarf to take out the skelks as well as the other parties.
It does not go as planned, though I feel it is a little cathartic to see the successor of the dwarf that strangled me to
death being beaten by skelks. Maybe if he lives I can drop him in to the toxic sea to fight the demon turtle.
Much to my amusement, Krimson 2 is joined by a swordsman with a broken arm and a recruit. Really guys, where did
all these dead goblins come from? were they on sale?
Eventually the recruit manages to take down the skelks with his bare hands and leaves the two pathetic crippled soldiers to rot on the beach, class act, class act.
In a totally unrelated measure, a previously enamored dwarf who had been working on some project in the workshop
finally showed his finished product.
Well at least I won't be getting a bad back.
The first casualty of my reign is a legendary miner, I'd never heard of him so he can't be that great, he fell to his doom in the sea to nobody's surprise. I just wish he'd lived long enough to let me know what kind of pain the secretion has.
I'm itchin' to find that out.
Our second casualty in the construction was another miner , the poor fella was coated in the slime but didn't show any abnormal signs. He must've been too busy drowning to help with the important task of diagnosing poisons.
It dinnae matter anyway, we've got plenty of dwarves, an' you'll find soon enough that I'm not picky about me workers,
If ye got arms an legs y' can milk a camel, design a screw pump, an dig through twent metric tonnes o' rock, an th'
absence of which does nae disqualify yah from doing these things either
It was barely a month before I got my first batch of goblin visitors, It's a shame the part favors aren't ready yet. I
greeted the greenskins the way the queen always greeted us dwarves, with a traditional goblin welcome of "Osat garu-
slömod! Reko-ruspkes. ugsmez-êl emxasnuz!" I then let out a hearty laugh like Led always did after the greeting, hoping
they would just go away. For some reason it made them come at us faster. Maybe, I put the wrong inflections on it.
I begin my victory over the goblin horde by bringing everyone inside, (including a bunch o elves that happened to be in
the area), unfortunately somebody put all of the levers, all the same color in the same room. When I find out what wise guy did this I'm going to have them keelhauled.
It is at this time that I learn that NONE of the levers in the lever room control the drawbridge and that the designers of the fort for the last nine years have long awaited their chance to fuck with me.
The obvious solution is to throw soldiers at them.
This of course fails, and much of the idiot surface dwellers die. Meanwhile we're enjoying a bit of wet weather
underground due to the DAMN DROWNING TRAP. I've isolated the lever that caused it but nobody's prepared to
pull the damn thing. I can see why I was sent back here.
I'll give this to the elves, they've got some pretty big balls. I make the most of their ridiculous ballsiness by unloading all
of our crappy stone projects that I made the peons do to get rid of stone and badly damaged clothing. The bastards
clearly can't tell the difference between a good deal and an employment as garbagemen.
Naturally, as with all my good plans, it falls flat on its face the elves refuse to accept my gifts, cheeky bastards, I'd sleep with their princess out of spite, I probably wouldn't even enjoy it I'd just do it to create a longlasting conflict with them so I could hose them down with fluid.
I hope Okolobok is comfy, cause I still have to wait out the unending flood trap that's drowning the entire fort.
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Topic: Battlefailed (Succession) Legendary Clusterf**k, free for all reclaim (Read 631407 times)