…alone, cos this bike ain’t got a p pad.
World Bulding Game Update
mnemex snoozed and lost on getting info to me, so the entire Kartanian civilization was destroyed in a single night by the Evil Duck Brotherhood.
So, to my remaining 5 players…
smalley_smoot and doc_mystery still need to get their village population info in. And do put the replies on the same post as the other Mayors did, gentlemen.
First turn will start with a letter from your King/Queen/Whatever, with your basic orders. You will reply to it and that will be your first turn. Then, after a couple weeks, I’ll do Turn 2. With any luck, things will progress smoothly and fun will be had by all.
On Friday, I will post Arn’s Adventurer Profile, thus allowing the rest of you to see the format I want. I’ll expect your Adventurer Profiles by the following Friday.
I will send pictures (with explanitory text) of your starting Village to you as soon as I get done creating all of them with Campaign Cartographer. After that, I’ll only send you pix every 6 turns or so.
It should be noted that, while your military detachment can and should do some cursory exploration of the area near your village, any in depth exploration will need to be done using the Adventuring Party (henceforth known as the Corps of Discovery) from the Adventuring part of the game. Please do understand that the services of the Corps of Discovery might be a long time coming, what with then out in the Great Unknown most of the time.
As always, if you have any questions, ask away.
And now, since I haven’t posted any song lyrics in awhile, here is a tune by Jethro Tull (from the “Aqualung” album) that very nicely sums up my feelings on the scourge that is organized religion.
“Wind-Up”
When I was young and they packed me off to school
and taught me how not to play the game,
I didn’t mind if they groomed me for success,
or if they said that I was a fool.
So I left there in the morning
with their God tucked underneath my arm —
their half-assed smiles and the book of rules.
So I asked this God a question
and by way of firm reply,
He said — I’m not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
before I’m through I’d like to say my prayers —
I don’t believe you:
you had the whole damn thing all wrong —
He’s not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
Well you can excomunicate me on my way to Sunday school
and have all the bishops harmonize these lines —
how do you dare tell me that I’m my Father’s son
when that was just an accident of Birth.
I’d rather look around me — compose a better song
`cos that’s the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory you’re a poorer man than me,
as you lick the boots of death born out of fear.
I don’t believe you:
you had the whole damn thing all wrong —
He’s not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
The Dociverse Blog 