Tech Noir
Ediot
friendly fire, what a retarded way to go
was hoping to keep everyone alive at least until year 10
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was hoping to keep everyone alive at least until year 10
Tech Noir
Ediot
which child soldier shot me in the ass to death?
Tech Noir
Ediot
Wasn't them, they at least now how to handle firearms. It was Balls.
Tech Noir
Ediot
A day after the battle, the Ediots had the surviving neanderthal executed
The Ediots celebrated the lantern festival on the next day, and their ideology was reformed and now includes fire worship.
and a wicker man was built. However, it seems that only someone acting as an inquisitor can light it, and I had no idea, so I didn't add the role to the list of public servants. So, torching people will have to wait for the next reformation, sorry @minty
make your choice @Call Me Tim
The execution of Dorloňa Croio
Dorloňa woke up woozy in a prison cell, with her wounds bandaged. Last thing she remembers was attacking a bearded man whose axe just cleaved off the hand of her tribesman, and then a flash and being engulfed in searing pain, dropping to the ground.
The sound of footsteps. Door opens, footsteps continue and then stop next to her bed. A woman leans over her, inspecting her. Bald, no eyebrows. A genie. The woman grabs the back of her shirt collar and starts pulling her out of the bed, out of the prison cell. Guess they are releasing her?
She finds herself in an open space in front of the long house where these people live. There is a tall, one armed man in front of a small group, two other men and two boys, both with crimson red eyes. He chats in a friendly way with everyone, and as he smiles, Dorloňa notices prominent canines. So, one of… those.
The genie releases her collar and lets her drop to the ground. She approaches the one armed man and whispers something. He nods, loses the smile and adopts the stiff persona of a dignitary. He gives a short speech about the pride of their people, and encourages them to stand strong in the face of the world that wishes to destroy them for their freedom loving ways. It’s typical leader stuff, and it is well delivered, the crowd nods and murmurs approvingly. At last he points to Dorloňa, the devious, freedom hating outsider, who will now be delivered into the hands of justice. He turns to her for the first time, and asks if she has any last words, or a prayer to whichever god?
That’s when Dorloňa finally sees a small marble altar, covered in blood. NO! Not like this! She was supposed to die like a warrior, not like a common criminal.
She can’t believe the word that is about to escape her lips
“QUARTER”
The one armed man turns to her and looks at her in confusion.
“What?”
“Quarter. It means mer…”
In a blur he is now in front of her. The arm grabs her by the neck and lifts her up effortlessly to his eye level.
“I know what it means, you fucking retard! I just can’t believe that you would come to MY COLONY, to kill MY PEOPLE, and then have the balls to cry ‘quarter’. If I wasn’t a public servant, but a common bloodsucker, I’d tear your throat out with my bare teeth!”
“PLEASE! Mercy…death... in combat!” she manages to say through the throat being crushed in his grip.
“You had your chance to die in combat when you and your friends barged here and attacked us. You failed. Denied.”
He places her down on her knees, and takes a step back, while taking the axe from the holster on his hip. The axe head makes a smooth arc through the air, and through her neck.
She is now floating above the scene, looking at her body as it drops limp to the ground, pool of blood spreading from the neck and legs occasionally twitching, and the crowd around it cheering. One of the two boys walks up and kicks the head with a smirk, and it rolls off into the nearby flowers.
“DEMONIC!” the genie woman raises her voice.
Demonic turns to his mother.
“What? It’s just some fucking raider”
“It’s not that”
“Then what?”
“The flowers”
He turns around, and suddenly the Commissar is there, towering above the daylilies, his face dark with rage. His stepfather for two weeks now, though both he and Demonic do their best not to acknowledge that, referring to each other simply as “Commissar” and “Boy”. But what is his fucking problem? It’s just dumb flowers. He can always plant more. Never mind, Demonic decides that the best course of action is to apologize and make the drama as short as possible.
“I’m sorry, Commissar, I…”
The commissar raises his hand to stop him, the rage on his face replaced with bitterness, and finally with resignation.
“Enough, Boy. I’m not angry with you. I am angry with the futility of it all”.
He bends down and picks up one of the crushed daylilies, with the thumb of his hand gently wiping the blood off the petals and trying to straighten them.
“So beautiful, so fragile. You spend days, months, years trying to shield them, nurture them, protect them from harm. And still you might fail. It worries me. What if one day I am not strong enough, or fast enough, or if I am simply gone for good, who will tend to the daylilies?”
He looks at Demonic, question in his eyes.
“Commissar, I don’t understand, you know both me and Tim ain’t built for that, we can’t even grow weeds, let alone…”
“Will you do it or not?”
It finally hits home, and he gets it. He straightens, putting all the pride he can muster in his back and chest.
“I’ll tend to the daylilies, Commissar”
“Thank you, Boy.”
“But, uh… what does ‘quarter’ mean?”
The Commissar smiles.
“To us? Absolutely fucking nothing”
Dorloňa woke up woozy in a prison cell, with her wounds bandaged. Last thing she remembers was attacking a bearded man whose axe just cleaved off the hand of her tribesman, and then a flash and being engulfed in searing pain, dropping to the ground.
The sound of footsteps. Door opens, footsteps continue and then stop next to her bed. A woman leans over her, inspecting her. Bald, no eyebrows. A genie. The woman grabs the back of her shirt collar and starts pulling her out of the bed, out of the prison cell. Guess they are releasing her?
She finds herself in an open space in front of the long house where these people live. There is a tall, one armed man in front of a small group, two other men and two boys, both with crimson red eyes. He chats in a friendly way with everyone, and as he smiles, Dorloňa notices prominent canines. So, one of… those.
The genie releases her collar and lets her drop to the ground. She approaches the one armed man and whispers something. He nods, loses the smile and adopts the stiff persona of a dignitary. He gives a short speech about the pride of their people, and encourages them to stand strong in the face of the world that wishes to destroy them for their freedom loving ways. It’s typical leader stuff, and it is well delivered, the crowd nods and murmurs approvingly. At last he points to Dorloňa, the devious, freedom hating outsider, who will now be delivered into the hands of justice. He turns to her for the first time, and asks if she has any last words, or a prayer to whichever god?
That’s when Dorloňa finally sees a small marble altar, covered in blood. NO! Not like this! She was supposed to die like a warrior, not like a common criminal.
She can’t believe the word that is about to escape her lips
“QUARTER”
The one armed man turns to her and looks at her in confusion.
“What?”
“Quarter. It means mer…”
In a blur he is now in front of her. The arm grabs her by the neck and lifts her up effortlessly to his eye level.
“I know what it means, you fucking retard! I just can’t believe that you would come to MY COLONY, to kill MY PEOPLE, and then have the balls to cry ‘quarter’. If I wasn’t a public servant, but a common bloodsucker, I’d tear your throat out with my bare teeth!”
“PLEASE! Mercy…death... in combat!” she manages to say through the throat being crushed in his grip.
“You had your chance to die in combat when you and your friends barged here and attacked us. You failed. Denied.”
He places her down on her knees, and takes a step back, while taking the axe from the holster on his hip. The axe head makes a smooth arc through the air, and through her neck.
She is now floating above the scene, looking at her body as it drops limp to the ground, pool of blood spreading from the neck and legs occasionally twitching, and the crowd around it cheering. One of the two boys walks up and kicks the head with a smirk, and it rolls off into the nearby flowers.
“DEMONIC!” the genie woman raises her voice.
Demonic turns to his mother.
“What? It’s just some fucking raider”
“It’s not that”
“Then what?”
“The flowers”
He turns around, and suddenly the Commissar is there, towering above the daylilies, his face dark with rage. His stepfather for two weeks now, though both he and Demonic do their best not to acknowledge that, referring to each other simply as “Commissar” and “Boy”. But what is his fucking problem? It’s just dumb flowers. He can always plant more. Never mind, Demonic decides that the best course of action is to apologize and make the drama as short as possible.
“I’m sorry, Commissar, I…”
The commissar raises his hand to stop him, the rage on his face replaced with bitterness, and finally with resignation.
“Enough, Boy. I’m not angry with you. I am angry with the futility of it all”.
He bends down and picks up one of the crushed daylilies, with the thumb of his hand gently wiping the blood off the petals and trying to straighten them.
“So beautiful, so fragile. You spend days, months, years trying to shield them, nurture them, protect them from harm. And still you might fail. It worries me. What if one day I am not strong enough, or fast enough, or if I am simply gone for good, who will tend to the daylilies?”
He looks at Demonic, question in his eyes.
“Commissar, I don’t understand, you know both me and Tim ain’t built for that, we can’t even grow weeds, let alone…”
“Will you do it or not?”
It finally hits home, and he gets it. He straightens, putting all the pride he can muster in his back and chest.
“I’ll tend to the daylilies, Commissar”
“Thank you, Boy.”
“But, uh… what does ‘quarter’ mean?”
The Commissar smiles.
“To us? Absolutely fucking nothing”
The Ediots celebrated the lantern festival on the next day, and their ideology was reformed and now includes fire worship.
and a wicker man was built. However, it seems that only someone acting as an inquisitor can light it, and I had no idea, so I didn't add the role to the list of public servants. So, torching people will have to wait for the next reformation, sorry @minty
make your choice @Call Me Tim
he was shit at doge and now hes shit at rimworld. i post-humously retract my voucher for him lol.
Heidi the girl
Ediot
My own fanfic ending to the execution:
Dorloňa looks confused. "I don't understand. Are you gifting me a muffalo?"
"Ha ha ha. You're funny," said the one armed man. "No, you are now to be placed on the altar to be drawn and quartered."
"That's not what I meant," Dorloňa exclaims.
"I know, lol."
"As you wish. Bring forth the muffalo."
Dorloňa looks confused. "I don't understand. Are you gifting me a muffalo?"
"Ha ha ha. You're funny," said the one armed man. "No, you are now to be placed on the altar to be drawn and quartered."
"That's not what I meant," Dorloňa exclaims.
"I know, lol."
would you forgive balls if he made your corpse a pretty flower crown n left a get well soon card on your body?
Tech Noir
Ediot
wtf
ah, ok, so it isn't muffalo bestiality after all
Call Me Tim
EDF Hero
shooting, medical, cooking
industrious
Again scary how accurate this game is.
industrious
Again scary how accurate this game is.
Call Me Tim
EDF Hero
i suppose that would make things better. bad manners carrying a grudge for the rest of my life.
Tech Noir
Ediot
Thank you. A colony marches on its stomach.
With Tim & Demonic reaching age of 10, they were ready to start their medical training along the adult Ediots
With the research complete, Ediots doned flak armor and said goodbye to flintlocks. The children received SMGs, and Ediots can now worry a lot less about the predators around the map
Demonic made his first kill
Commissar Heidi announced that this latest development puts the Ediots at the top of the food chain, and that unless they run out of ammo, or are attacked by overwhelming numbers, their supremacy over the nature is beyond question
At the end of the year two, a pack of manhunting fennec foxes arrived on the map
They proceeded towards the nearest target - the mech cluster. The Ediots expected them to end up as shredded as all the visiting merchants.
And they were, but not before the two footsoldiers went down, much to the disbelief of the Ediots.
How could they have overcome them, they are normally only a threat to children (unarmed ones)?
Checked the log, it seems mechanoids too got fucked by friendly fire
only turrets were left, and minty started research on the portable shields.
Year three started. On the fifth day a merchant caravan got obliterated by the turrets. Shield research was done by the 6th.
on the 7th day, a first shield belt was made
but there was no need, seems the turrets spent all their ammo on the caravan, and that was the end of that
Day after thaat, the impids attacked. Two got captured, and were supposed to be a replacement to our surgery training dummies. They suffered enough.
But I didn't notice that there were two groups, and the other attacked the colony from the rear and started setting shit on fire. Sent Helios and Balls to deal with them while the prisoners are triaged, but they got set on fire and had to be bailed out by Heidi and the children.
Tim scored his first kill
Due to the Ediots ideoligion, firefighting is a sin. So the fire swallowed a part of the crops (thank god it's growing season, not winter), an AC unit, and the weapons and ammo that Helios and Balls dropped when they fell. Need to recruit outsiders without conversion, so that the colony has at least 2-3 people that don't jizz themselves when they see open flame and get crippling depression when they have to put out fires.
After that, there were two manhunting packs, first the lynxes
and then the snow hares
But as commisar Heidi said
@Demonic87 you're a grown man now
Attachments
If I'm going to be a deaf misogynist hellbent on on anger and blood, I may as well be the perfect meathead and go with the Fearless trait
Tech Noir
Ediot
Shit, was afraid of that, but not many good choices. On the other hand someone who will run through a hail of bullets to stab the machinegunner makes sense. And deafness means you can't be a psycaster. No anima tree, no royal title. But impervious to psychic drones when everyone else isgetting their brains fried.
but ok, we'll see what genes and implants can do.
Tech Noir
Ediot
Got raided by mechanoids, no clusters, just infantry. Ediots (except shotgunners who had the slugs) had no AP ammo, a serious fuckup on my part which is currently being rectified. Melee combatants did do damage, but too slow for my comfort.
Accepted this imperial quest, not for the reward, but just to have one person that has a high tech melee weapon around the colony, no matter how briefly
And @Call Me Tim is now an adult
Accepted this imperial quest, not for the reward, but just to have one person that has a high tech melee weapon around the colony, no matter how briefly
And @Call Me Tim is now an adult
Heidi the girl
Ediot
I did say that I wanted a boomstick. But, I guess I get to be bezerker viking while everyone else gets one.
Heidi the girl
Ediot
lol
Tech Noir
Ediot
It will be done, though as a sang you get a melee bonus, but since with current melee weapons not being up to the challenge that doesn't mean much, you and demonic are shotgunners 'til we get something better.