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[Radio Controlled]

Hello lw, hope you die a screaming death have a nice stay here at the HMRC/ARM (HARM?).

Sorry for the really late reply, I've been pretty busy today.  I did the edit, on both "New Player Guide" and "Stats and Skills", along with some minor stuff (Stats and skills implied that intelligence was used for manips beyond simply being required to use them, for example).

Ah yes, many thanks. I should spend some more time with the wiki myself, or at least try to set up the prototypes section decently. I did a quick edit to include skills and how they can be optimized.

We should make a "Requests" page or something beyond the current "Wanted Pages" page, just so I have suggestions on things to do.

I wouldn't create a 'requests' page (kinda redundant with 'Wanted Pages' but I'll admit I really should expand upon that section sometimes. There's some general stuff, but nothing very concrete. Wiki is acting up a bit right now though, but I think it fixes itself (database errors, something on their side).

Question for RC: Are you okay with me making relatively small pages that would probably only be linked from one place, like "Battle of Hexbarax (VR Program)"?  Because not wanting to make stub/clutter pages is probably my biggest reason that I haven't edited much.

Sure, go ahead. I added the bit about not just adding pages everywhere to avoid people creating redundant pages or the wiki becoming a mess, but I think it's set up well enough now that you could add new pages without much danger of messing something up, as long as you remember to create a few links in the appropriate places to your new page (else it won't be found very easily by most visitors not checking the 'recent changes' page). One should probably just not change general lay-out or organisation without checking if people agree with it.

While I'm at it: thanks to the people who have continued to update the wiki despite my own negligence as of late. Special thanks to Swordsmith, Syvarris, Kriellya and Paris, who have been the four most active people in the last month or so.

[Doomblade187]

Cast Cecil Baldwin from Welcome to Nightvale as Steve.

[SeriousConcentrate]

Cecil does have a great voice but I'm not sure he's quite sarcastic enough to be Steve.

Also more people really should listen to Welcome to Nightvale. >.<

[Parisbre56]

Spoiler: New Templates for the wiki (click to show/hide)

http://einsteinianroulette.wikia.com/wiki/Template:Skills
http://einsteinianroulette.wikia.com/wiki/Template:Stats
New templates for the wiki. You just give it your skills and stats and it automatically builds the array.
Here's Flint's page:
http://einsteinianroulette.wikia.com/wiki/Flint_Westwood
And the code used to add the stats and skills template in that pages

Code: [Select]

==Stats==
{{Stats
|strength = 5
|dexterity = 15
|endurance = 5
|charisma = 5
|intelligence = 0
|willpower = 10
|transhuman = no}}

==Skills==
{{Skills
|speech = 3
|intuition = 1
|handiwork = 1
|conventional = 9
|unconventional = 3
|exotic = 0
|auxiliary = 3
|medical = 0
|proff_conventional_bon = yes
|proff_exotic_pen = yes
}}
Of course, you can change the

Code: [Select]

|proff_conventional_bon = yes
|proff_exotic_pen = yespart into

Code: [Select]

|proff_unconventional_bon = yes
|proff_intuition_pen = yesif your profession is physimancer, for example.

Enjoy.

[Parisbre56]

We all know each other and often meet. The league of Nikitian's friends.

What my imagination gave me when I read this:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A dark, candlelit room, its block stone walls decorated with bookcases and tapestries filled occult symbols.
In the center of a room is an old, rectangular wooden table and around it sit figures wearing dark hooded cloaks, speaking with hushed voices.
They all go quiet as another cloaked figure enters, smoke trailing from its head. They watch as it slowly walks and sits on the head of the table.
In the twilight of the candles and the shadow of his hood, his face cannot be seen. There is only a long wooden smoking pipe coming out of the darkness of his face. The figure takes a deep breath from its pipe, proving that it indeed has lungs and it is not a mere shadow taking the form of a man. The illumination the burning tobacco in the pipe provides gives a chance to the most astute of the men gathered around the table to glimpse the smoker's features. Bluish skin. An eye patch. A big black nose.
The man exhales, releasing a puff of smoke before getting up and addressing the men around the table.
Welcome, friends, to another gathering of The league of Nikitian's friends. I am Nikitian, founder of-
Nikitian is interrupted by one of the men around the table who raises his hand and begins speaking without waiting for permission.
"Uuuhh, excuse me sir, but why do we always have to say that when we begin a meeting? We all know who you are and why we're here. We meet here every week to plot taking over the world. I think everybody in this room knows this by now."
That, my dear Abbradar, is a matter of safety. Nikitian replies calmly.
"How does that improve safety?" asks the man with disbelief. "Plus, what's with the cloaks? We all know who each other is, why do we have to hide our faces? I can hardly see with this thing."
It is a matter of secrecy. Nikitian continues calmly, almost joyously.
"What secrecy? You just said my name! You just said your name!" the man says incredulously, almost yelling now.
Ah, now, you see my friend, it is a way to see if anyone is willing to ask those kinds of questions. A way to expose a man who doesn't fully commit himself to this Legue, a man who doesn't value our secrets and could betray us with the right incentive. Only that kind of man would dare question my choices. Your inability to realize this saddens me, for it proves you are that man. Nikitian's voice reaches an ominous crescendo as he retrieves a wooden cane from the underside of the table.
And that is why you have failed me! He hits the floor with it, embedding the cane in one of the holes there, forming a lever.
For the last time! Nikitian exclaims as he pulls the lever, the malicious joy audible in his voice.
A trapdoor opens under the chair of the man sitting next to the 'traitor'. The man who is now left with no floor beneath him can only watch in horror and scream as he falls. His scream can be heard for several seconds, altered by the echoes of the narrow tunnel, before it suddenly cuts off and the trapdoor closes, leaving only perfectly smooth floor behind.
"Errr, sir?" Abbradar says, pointing to the now empty spot besides him. "That was Lw, sir. I'm still here."
Yeah, well, I can't see a thing with this hood. Nikitian says with a handwave.
Anyway, on with today's main topic of discussion. Our plans are coming along nicely...

[Doomblade187]

We all know each other and often meet. The league of Nikitian's friends.

What my imagination gave me when I read this:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A dark, candlelit room, its block stone walls decorated with bookcases and tapestries filled occult symbols.
In the center of a room is an old, rectangular wooden table and around it sit figures in wearing dark hooded cloaks, speaking with hushed voices.
They all go quiet as another cloaked figure enters, smoke trailing from its head. They watch as it slowly walks and sits on the head of the table.
In the twilight of the candles and the shadow of his hood, his face cannot be seen. There is only a long wooden smoking pipe coming out of the darkness of his face. The figure takes a deep breath from its pipe, proving that it indeed has lungs and it is not a mere shadow taking the form of a man. The illumination the burning tobacco in the pipe provides gives a chance to the most astute of the men gathered around the table to glimpse the smoker's features. Bluish skin. An eye patch. A big black nose.
The man exhales, releasing a puff of smoke before getting up and addressing the men around the table.
Welcome, friends, to another gathering of The league of Nikitian's friends. I am Nikitian, founder of-
Nikitian is interrupted by one of the men around the table who raises his hand and begins speaking without waiting for permission.
"Uuuhh, excuse me, but why do we always have to say that when we begin a meeting? We all know who you are and why we're here. We meet here every week to plot taking over the world. I think everybody in this room knows this by now."
It is a matter of safety. Nikitian replies calmly.
"How does that improve safety?" asks the man with disbelief. "Plus, what's with the cloaks? We all know who each other is, why do we have to hide our faces. I can hardly see with this thing."
It is a matter of secrecy. Nikitian continues calmly, almost joyously.
"What secrecy? You just said my name! You just said your name!" the man says incredulously, almost yelling now.
Ah, now, you see my friend, it is a way to see if anyone is willing to ask those kinds of questions. A way to expose a man who doesn't fully commit himself to this Legue, a man who doesn't value our secrets and could betray us with the right incentive. Only that kind of man would dare question my choices. Your inability to realize this saddens me, for it proves you are that man. Nikitian's voice reaches an ominous crescendo as he retrieves a wooden cane from the underside of the table.
And that is why you have failed me! He hits the floor with it, embedding the cane in one of the holes there, forming a lever.
For the last time! Nikitian exclaims as he pulls the lever, the malicious joy audible in his voice.
A trapdoor opens under the chair of the man sitting next to the 'traitor'. The man who is now left with no floor beneath him can only watch in horror and scream as he falls. His scream can be heard for several seconds, altered by the echoes of the narrow tunnel, before it suddenly cuts off and the trapdoor closes, leaving only perfectly smooth floor behind.
"Errr, sir?" The speaker says, pointing to the now empty spot besides him. "That was Iw, sir. I'm still here."
Yeah, well I can't see a thing with this hood. Nikitian says with a handwave.
Anyway, on with today's main topic of discussion.

Yessssssss.

[abbradar]

I'm One from the League (guy who posted as Nik before) and I've finally signed up just to show my awe from this description. 
Nik is on verge of successfully persuading me to join as well, I just don't have enough time now (bachelor's thesis and stuff)... This guy is dangerous; he *will* build his own Army sooner or later!

EDIT: Guess I was the guy who left after poor Lw descended into vile darkness...

[Tiruin]

We now have a real-life group of buddies and comrades playing in this game.

Awesome.

[TCM]

So, when should we hold the inevitable ER Convention?

[Toaster]

April Fool's Day would be the appropriate time, except for having to do it next year.

[lw]

I'm One from the League

Yiss.

We all know each other and often meet. The league of Nikitian's friends.

What my imagination gave me when I read this:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

A dark, candlelit room, its block stone walls decorated with bookcases and tapestries filled occult symbols.
In the center of a room is an old, rectangular wooden table and around it sit figures wearing dark hooded cloaks, speaking with hushed voices.
They all go quiet as another cloaked figure enters, smoke trailing from its head. They watch as it slowly walks and sits on the head of the table.
In the twilight of the candles and the shadow of his hood, his face cannot be seen. There is only a long wooden smoking pipe coming out of the darkness of his face. The figure takes a deep breath from its pipe, proving that it indeed has lungs and it is not a mere shadow taking the form of a man. The illumination the burning tobacco in the pipe provides gives a chance to the most astute of the men gathered around the table to glimpse the smoker's features. Bluish skin. An eye patch. A big black nose.
The man exhales, releasing a puff of smoke before getting up and addressing the men around the table.
Welcome, friends, to another gathering of The league of Nikitian's friends. I am Nikitian, founder of-
Nikitian is interrupted by one of the men around the table who raises his hand and begins speaking without waiting for permission.
"Uuuhh, excuse me sir, but why do we always have to say that when we begin a meeting? We all know who you are and why we're here. We meet here every week to plot taking over the world. I think everybody in this room knows this by now."
That, my dear Abbradar, is a matter of safety. Nikitian replies calmly.
"How does that improve safety?" asks the man with disbelief. "Plus, what's with the cloaks? We all know who each other is, why do we have to hide our faces? I can hardly see with this thing."
It is a matter of secrecy. Nikitian continues calmly, almost joyously.
"What secrecy? You just said my name! You just said your name!" the man says incredulously, almost yelling now.
Ah, now, you see my friend, it is a way to see if anyone is willing to ask those kinds of questions. A way to expose a man who doesn't fully commit himself to this Legue, a man who doesn't value our secrets and could betray us with the right incentive. Only that kind of man would dare question my choices. Your inability to realize this saddens me, for it proves you are that man. Nikitian's voice reaches an ominous crescendo as he retrieves a wooden cane from the underside of the table.
And that is why you have failed me! He hits the floor with it, embedding the cane in one of the holes there, forming a lever.
For the last time! Nikitian exclaims as he pulls the lever, the malicious joy audible in his voice.
A trapdoor opens under the chair of the man sitting next to the 'traitor'. The man who is now left with no floor beneath him can only watch in horror and scream as he falls. His scream can be heard for several seconds, altered by the echoes of the narrow tunnel, before it suddenly cuts off and the trapdoor closes, leaving only perfectly smooth floor behind.
"Errr, sir?" Abbradar says, pointing to the now empty spot besides him. "That was Lw, sir. I'm still here."
Yeah, well, I can't see a thing with this hood. Nikitian says with a handwave.
Anyway, on with today's main topic of discussion. Our plans are coming along nicely...

Aw yisss.

[Xantalos]

Oh dear, they're multiplying.

[piecewise]

Not sure if a convention is viable. I mean, I live in vegas, Ti lives in brazil, I think, Sean lives in Russia(?), Nik and his growing gang of friends live somewhere outside the US, etc. I'm pretty sure a large amount of our players are way too far away from me.

Bout the best we can hope for is some sort of skype or Mumble thing where we can all shout at each other through the tubes.

[piecewise]

Also, is there anyone still down there in the on planet headquarters? I assume that the sod commander and sean are in the control room, but anyone else? I keep  feeling like there's someone else down there but I can't remember and it's bugging me.

[Yoink]

Nah, someone should become supermegarich and fly around the world gathering everyone up on a private jet.
And then dock onto a sci-fi spacefaring vessel and fly off whilst nuking Earth behind us, and go join up with some giant space civilization a few galaxies over, and have all sorts of zany adventures fighting aliens and designing weapons and turning into abominations and fun stuff like that.