Moderator: adam
Tower Log
Herein lies the abridged adventures of... many. They fought, they died, they rose to fight again. They gave their all to the tower, and the tower gave them nothing but a shitty magic sword, and a psychotic break, in return.
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
Tower Date 89-01
as 89th to hold journal i start over day 1.
day was bad.
killed by goblin. s.
we try again tomorow. this going to be long life even tho short.
FIGHTER sad.
day was bad.
killed by goblin. s.
we try again tomorow. this going to be long life even tho short.
FIGHTER sad.
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
:: a series of scratchings on the wall detail the thoughts of a Tower victim ::
at the urgings of the goblins in the next room yelling through the door in a crude and demeaning fashion the dwarf hit the button and a different door opened up.... beyond was a hallway with a few doors... the first was chilled by the necrotic shambling dead within... divine fortune favored us enough to put them all down and crunch their bones beneath our booted heels... damn this chain mail is heavy... the next day we braved another door and found it fetid with the noisesome stench of the vermin within although I think the leader was a more depressing note... having lost his mind from dealing with such base creatures he took upon himself to lead them and wear thier pelts to be more like them... he was so impassioned he lept to the fore to attack us instead of watching in safety while letting the vile chittering hoard come at us first... we managed to add to the gore of their victims in their chosen nest with a new layer of fur spattered blood... hopefully the next torture this tower forces on us will be less grotesque
at the urgings of the goblins in the next room yelling through the door in a crude and demeaning fashion the dwarf hit the button and a different door opened up.... beyond was a hallway with a few doors... the first was chilled by the necrotic shambling dead within... divine fortune favored us enough to put them all down and crunch their bones beneath our booted heels... damn this chain mail is heavy... the next day we braved another door and found it fetid with the noisesome stench of the vermin within although I think the leader was a more depressing note... having lost his mind from dealing with such base creatures he took upon himself to lead them and wear thier pelts to be more like them... he was so impassioned he lept to the fore to attack us instead of watching in safety while letting the vile chittering hoard come at us first... we managed to add to the gore of their victims in their chosen nest with a new layer of fur spattered blood... hopefully the next torture this tower forces on us will be less grotesque
That which is not dead can eternal lie and with strange eons even death may die
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.