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[Saurinae]

You fool! Your making him the ultimate weapon! AGAINST US!


Quick, someone hold down Joykill! Hes helping the elves kill us!

*Tackles Weird and tries to get the trigger away*

[Oliolli]

...I leave hell to get some napalm and THIS happens?

Anyway, back to fighting the demons, I suppose.

*builds new wall in pathway and deconstructs old wall to get to the demonic hordes, while lugging unnecessarily large amounts of napalm*
*agonized screams and sounds of burning come from beyond the wall*


Several minutes pass, and things seem to quiet down on the other side of the wall, only a light rustling to be heard. Loud Whispers, despite what his GenreSavvy says, deconstructs the wall to see what has happened. Piles and piles of dead four-armed brutes, steam spirits, ass demons and manamaid fiends litter the fortress' hallways, with only a few patches of bare ground to be seen among the flames. Loud Whispers also notices some teeth and ears lying in the flames, identifying them as Oliolli's. In the distance, atop a pile of dead demons is Oliolli's by now rotting right leg, pushing up miasma. Oliolli is nowhere to be seen. Fearing the worst, Loud Whispers quickly rebuilds the wall, and starts his way back to the survivor camp.

While on the way, he notices a freshly dug passage that was not there when he last passed the spot.

...theyjustkeptcomingandrollingandgoing...

The walls are still rough, and the passage is filled with boulders. Again igonring his GenreSavvy, Loud Whispers decides to investigate the passage.

...andtheykeptmovingtheydidn'tstopwhydidn'ttheystop...

Carefully navigating his way around the boulders, he can soon hear a low voice babbling.

...andIhackedthemandslashedthemandcutthemandbashedthem...

On what seems to be the last boulder before the the end of the tunnel waits Oliolli's severed right arm, shoulder bloody and still grasping a copper pick.

...andIkickedthemandhitthemandgrabbedthemandbitthem...

Behind the boulder is Oliolli, face warped by horror, mouth blooded after gnawing his own arm off (without teeth; Loud Whispers is confused) and seeming as if he would be in a fetal position, had he the limbs for it. Loud Whispers quickly diagnoses PTSD. Crouching down to Oliolli, he asks what is wrong.

...thetumbleweedstheyjustkeptcomingandrollingandgoing...

Loud Whispers starts wondering if his diagnose was correct, coming up with a better alternative.

Suddenly Oliolli shoots up straight and grabs Loud Whispers by the shoulders (without arms or teeth; Loud Whispers is confused again) and starts shaking him violently.

...andtheykeptmovingtheydidn'tstopWHYDIDN'TTHEYSTOP???

Loud Whispers renews his diagnosis: Oliolli has gone stark raving mad.

Suddenly, like a god from a machne, an eerie green foot shoots from the rough stone ceiling above, smashing Oliolli in a sickening crunch. The foot then raises, disappearing into the ceiling form which it once came. Horrified at what he had just seen, Loud Whispers takes a look at a large footprint that was left by the foot. In it are large, gritty letters forming the following words. Oliolli was no more.

GORK
A subcontractor of Armok^TM
All right reserved

Focusing on the footprint, Loud Whispers suddenly hears a disgusted grunt from behind him. Chastising himself for not being GenreSavvy enough, he quickly spins around, getting ready to fight whatever it was that had snuck up on him. What he sees, however, shocks and stuns him.

Tearing the fingers off Oliolli's severed arm one by one to free the copper pick, the being stands over two meters tall, boasting muscles that would turn the offspring of Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger green in jealousy. Eventually freeing the pick from the grasp of the dead hand, the being studies the pick for any faults. COntent with the condition of the pick, the being then turns it's three eyes to Loud Whispers.

So I heard the last guy snapped. the new Oliolli says, resting the pick against his shoulder. What the fuck did you demand from him?

[Fen]

So, I checked the stockpiles, and we've got like, 83 different books detailing the secrets of things and other things. This fort is so full of shenanigans, but at least I learned how to make pastries.

Fen Valdyr gestures! The *Acacia Scepter* is transmogrified into an apple strudel!
Mmm. Tastes like the fury of a hundred elves.

[Saurinae]

Hmm what secrets did you see? I might want some, if there are any i could use.

[Reudh]

Reudh gestures and mumbles some strange words!

A golem made of cyclopentasiloxane shudders and begins to move!

[WillowLuman]

I KNEW I shouldn't have written down all those things the kittens in my head told me. Oh well, at least I didn't write down the most powerful Secret of all...

[WillowLuman]

Sorry for double post, might as well use it while it's here though.

Inside the room within the cage trap, HugoLuman stared at the apparatus. HugoLuman had been steadily building it over the course of many days with mechanisms "borrowed" from around the fortress. It had been hard work, and following the designs interpreted from the mental voices had been difficult (and straining on the sanity), but at last the device was ready for testing.

"I now know what happens when one of us gets a strange mood; a megaproject." Placing hand to lever, HugoLuman contemplated for a moment before pulling it. "If this works, I may finally be able to return home. Perhaps even at the moment of departure, as if I was never gone! And if I can't get home, then maybe at least I can go mucking about through this timeline and mess with what happened in world-gen. Perhaps even go back and see that 'time before time?'"
HugoLuman pulled the lever, and the whole room shook. "Of course, if I'm wrong I might cause a total event collapse and erase myself (and possibly everything else) from history. Too late to change my mind now though. And what are the odds that-"


HugoLuman has vanished!

Weird suddenly saw a bright flash, and a singed piece of cage trap appeared out of nowhere on his lab table.

[Gizogin]

The only magic I need is ice control.  It's the best element to control by far.  Aside from cheese, but that goes without saying.

[Reudh]

Screw ice magic, i'm a PERIODICTABLEMAGE.

Fear my Polonium Bolt.

You'll be blinded by my Flare of Magnesium!

And as a final parting gift, when i'm out of other magic,

Summon Hydrated Francium!

[Gizogin]

Oh, didn't realize I was dealing with Mendeleev here.

[WillowLuman]

I prefer to summon plutonium, then squeeze it REALLY HARD. This compresses it, making it denser and causing something wonderful to happen.

[Gizogin]

Your breeder reactor won't help you here!

[Reudh]

Yeah, but I'd rather keep myself alive.

The hydrated francium is an absolute last resort.

[wierd]

Considering that it would be a radiologically dirty explosion, I can see why.

Still, in all fairness, I really would seek to obtain hidden secrets if plunked in a df generated world. I am a connesouir of information, and if it works, I don't discriminate.

(I have studies a vast number of "magical" texts purely for the novelty, and for an insight into the magical thinking mindset of such school's practitioners.... it was... enlightening. Magic is very fascinating stuff. Pure bunkum, but fascinating. If it actually DID stuff, rest assured I would add as many new hobbies as were necessary to gain "adequate" in the skill. I'm a born polymath at heart, and gravitate to anything I don't already know, including silliness.)

Summoning michael jackson and dancing zombies to confront the HFS really is something I would probably try at some point, if the opportunity to learn how presented itself. The game features necromancy, so I can garantee I would be jonesing for a copy of some slabs.

I would be willing to trade "secrets" I already posess, because knowledge is a currency that only grows. You don't suddenly forget something just because you told somebody else.  Luc bakecakes wants the secret to delicious, never-fail puff pastries? She can have it, but I want a rubbing of her magic slab that says how to raise the dead in exchange.  I'll even teach her how to make marshmallow divinity to sweeten the deal. We can have a cooking party to swap recipies until she's happy with the trade.

Same goes for any other magical practitioner.  I'd end up with quite a collection after awhile I think.

[RAKninja]

the only secrets i am party to are those that allow you to live in a shallow pit on a hillside for an indefinite period of time.  the magics of observation and rangefinding are under my command.  i'm also fairly well versed in the mysteries of small unit tactics.

i would exchange instruction in these arts as well os the skills of using and maintaining the necessary paraphernalia  for some of the output of your "war lab" (as some of the boys in the militia have taken to calling it) as i feel i can further advance these mystical sciences with the fruits of your research.