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[Unraveller]

Time for some, "Just-before turn" squats. You know, get really pumped up to be immediately let down.

[Swords-Otter]

I would just like to clarify that I am still interested in playing my turn

[Bralbaard]

But.. you're not on the turn list? I could add you of course.

[tonnot98]

I would just like to clarify that I am still interested in playing my turn

[Unraveller]

"Ah, at last we come to de final show, eh?"

A rather large and particularly chiseled man fastens his boots whilst splayed out upon a rough wooden floor. Props and numerous other strange items are scattered around this room, and while the cramped area appears uncomfortable, the man seems totally at ease. This place had been his home for so long, a goodbye could not be easy.

"You're on soon Mister Sinaabo." a young voice calls from an archway causing the muscular man to stand to attention and snap out of his daze. Slipping on a tank top he begins striding towards the direction of the voice. Soon enough another, albeit much older, voice brings out a true spark in the man's sepia eyes.

"Introducing, the world's strongest man, Thomod Sinaabo!"

Time begins to slow in Thomod's mind, just as it always does during these performances, though something is different this time as if the burden upon his shoulders is even heavier than usual. A decadent red curtain is raised and there before a seemingly endless crowd, dotted faces of humans, dwarves, elves, even goblins, he stands, tall and resolute.



With a twirl of his mustache Thomod speaks with his usual thick accent, "Show time!"

The ensuing show is a blur of incredible feats of strength and endurance. Truly it must be possible to reach a godly level of pure manliness and truer still Thomod has surpassed it. A particularly well done scene involved the flipping of their elephant Bess. Luckily the girl is trained, such stories of horror there have been from wild elephants.

Long into the night there is hustle and bustle, such a famous circus going out with a bang. And yet no one, not even Thomod had known the reason for the disbanding. Their ringleader, always a rather suspicious individual had kept their lips sealed.

At last, the dawn breaks and with it comes new opportunities for the performers, tearful goodbyes are said and groups break off from one another. A true manly man allows their emotions to flow, and Thomod had done that very thing. Finally he began parting his way from the stage, it would stay there, near the town of Stakestar. A monument to their legendary performances.

Just as the strongman was finished packing his scant belongings and turning away a raspy voice catches his attention, "You put on a fine show, for a human" The source of the voice, none other than Thram Wurwimad, goblin lord of Stakestar. Beside him, another of the lead performers for their circus, a human and longtime friend of Thomod, Oma Erdapsipkat, Sword Swallower.

"To what do I owe this hon-" began the muscular man, quickly being cut-off by his old co-worker. A trait that had truly irked Thomod, "W-we really n-n-need to listen to this guys deal Thom!" Oma spoke, chittering rather nervously. Thomod, unsure what to make of the situation, twirls his mustache cautiously, "You have my attention." he says softly.

The small mangy green lord chuckles in delight at this, "Goood, very good." he coos, soon adding, "I am willing to aid in the, say, refinancing of your beloved circus."

Immediately this perks the attitude of the solemn Thomod right up, "Really, you truly mean it? Oma, tell me this isn't some kind of joke?"

The girl's eyes dart to and fro, "H-he means it, he really does. Lord Wurwimad has t-the power and wealth t-t-to do it!"

The strongman leans in quite close to the pompous lord, "What must we sacrifice?"

The goblin gives another cankerous chuckle and spouts , "Sacrifice! Ha, there will be no sacrifices, this is a win-win for all of us. Now listen, I have heard rumors of a place, a museum of sorts, clad in gold and within, treasures beyond your wildest imaginings. This lies to the east, near the dwarven, Evenedanvils. I desire the treasures within, bring me them and I shall build your circus up to the very heavens, no being will not have heard of it!"

Oma violently nods her head as she stares down the strongman, obviously she is eager to take the deal. With a short contemplation, and a twirl of the mustache Thomod replies, "You would have us steal?"

The goblin lord appears offended, even if the muscled man is suggesting the truth, "Think of it more as borrowing, surely they won't miss it if you take a few valuables from their endless hoard of treasure. Besides, do you not wish for your beloved circus to rise again?"

The manipulative words and pressure from Thomod's peer start eating away at him, "Wait a minute, isn't that a very short walk from here, why do you not do it yourself?

With a blank look on his face the lord responds in an apathetic manner, "Look I'm a busy goblin, go, don't go. Decide quickly!"

Oma's head now nodding at mach speed, the chiseled figure finally caves in, "We will go, but, I cannot give promises." And with that, the green snob waves the two off with a deliciously evil grin.

Will the strongman give in to pressure and sign a proverbial deal with the devil? Will he give up his manly pride to see the circus returned to him? Find out next time on the daring adventures of Thomod Sinaabo!

[Bralbaard]

Great! just make sure you do not underestimate the difficulty. Out af all the contenders we had we have only one submission to the museum so far.

[Unraveller]

Of course, I'm completely sure I'll die in the most anti-climactic way possible.

[Swords-Otter]

sorry about that my brother forgot to log me out he is "the lupanian"

[Unraveller]

"At last! This must be de museum lord Wurwimad was taking about. Maybe a little exagerated, but beautiful none the less. Come 'ere Oma, just look at this strange plum stone." Thomod's mood had become jovial, the thought of reforming the circus had lightened his spirits.



"J-J-Just open t-the door Thom, we mustn't be s-s-seen." Oma chattered in her usual nervous sense, poking the back of her companion.

Laughing heartily the muscular man responded, "Look 'round girl, there's nary a soul!" with a final sigh he opened the double doors.



The joy faded away instantly from Thomod's face being replaced by a grim smirk, "And nary a treasure to be seen aswell." Only but three out of the large room of display cases had anything to be seen within. Two skulls with bits a flesh rotting off, a massive heart long dead alongside a large menacing tooth, and, to round the collection off, a flask of some horrid and ultimately ungodly concoction.

Breaking the silence, the muscle man spoke again in that same grim tone, "This must be some kind of joke. Or maybe de wrong place? No." He solemnly stokes his manly stache as Oma pokes around quite cautiously.

What seems like forever passes before the silence is broken again, this time by the nervous little sword swallower, "W-What if we just go out and find a ton of t-t-treasure?"

Waving his hand, the strongman responded, "Naw, that would never work." Shortly after he added, "Ah! But what if we go out, find a bunch of treasure, put it here to be displayed in the museum and THEN bring it to Thram? It is brilliant plan!"

"But where do we start?" Oma piped in.

"I believe I can be of aid with that." A wheezy voice had filled the room yet there were no beings other than the circus performers.

Standing to attention, the strongman near shouted, "Show yourself!" as Oma had quietly creeped in hiding behind the much larger man.

"Over here young ones. Don't be afraid." The voice, however impossible, was coming directly from the wooden wagon that had sat in one the museum's corners. "Come closer, I won't harm ye".

The grimness on Thomod's face had now been replaced with utter confusion, "Excuse me, but how is it that you can speak?" he said whilst stroking his mustache.

The impossible wagon had responded in kind, "Well boyo, how is it that YOU can talk? Now that that is settled, I couldn't help but notice that you two are interested in the mighty prospect of ADVENTURE!"

At this point Oma had already fainted, bless her little heart. Thomod, deciding that nothing good can come from further inquiry about the rickety wagon's existence, replies, "I suppose you are correct, looking for treasure and all that."

Staring deeply into the strongman's eyes (?) the animate wagon spoke in a particularly ancient tone, "Well lookie, I've just the right adventure for the both of ya."



Now it was the muscled man who had become nervous, "You'd have us fight a minotaur? You must want the two of us dead."

The wagon had caught him, "Did you not say that you would do anything to bring yer beloved circus back to life?"

"How did y. . ."

"What are ye sissies waiting fer, get on with it!"

Without another word Thomod collected the unconscious Oma and strode out the doors. There were things tat simply should not be questioned, besides, the wagon was right. Thomod had never wanted anything more in his simple life. Minotaur it is.

ONE 'TRAVEL' LATER



Never had a crummy downward staircase been so daunting, perhaps the pillars had made the man uneasy, "I'll be right back girl, promise." Unfortunately he was good at faking courage and bravado.

The sword swallowing girl had crossed her arms and pouted, "Y-you had better come back you oaf. I want you by supper time, you hear me?"

Perhaps the final chance? Thomod let off a hearty laugh and flashed a warm smile, he wasn't so sure he'd be back. All that mattered now was his plunge into the darkness below.

And truly this was not mere darkness, the very air was thick with an unbelievable acrid odor, how could anything actually live down here? Not only had the darkness blinded him, but Thmod was stumbling through labyrinthine halls roughly hewn. If only he could find a light -- Ah! a nice rope, must be a lamp! Minotaur's have got lamps yeah? The strongman did what any thick headed hume would do, pull and pull on the rope. Why wasn't there light?

Thomod had sat in the dark cavern pondering his dilemma, however a quite startling flair of nostrils had reignited his cowardice. A covered lantern is revealed, the muscled man had been pulling on the braided beard of some fellow, at least the light had come on though.

"WHAT'S ALL THIS THEN?"



Oh my.

Will our hero be pummeled into the dirt? Will his passions be founded? Who was that mysterious wagon? Find out next time on the daring adventures of Thomod Sinaabo!

[TheFlame52]

A talking wagon. Truly, Dwarf Fortress is the most realistic game in existence.

[Eric Blank]

Pretty damn good fairy tale simulator at least.

[Timeless Bob]

I've often thought the structure was ideal for the creation of Greek Tragedies.

[maxcat61]

I've often thought the structure was ideal for the creation of Greek Tragedies.

Your wording was a little off, so I fixed it for you.

[Unraveller]

Thomod stands face to face with a great and powerful beast, a minotaur and not a very happy one. "You wouldn't happen to have any treasures that I could borrow?" the strongman says meekly, his adrenaline pumping as this labyrinth could become his grave very soon.

"YOU TELLING ME THAT YOU CAME ALL THE WAY HERE TO STEAL FROM ME?!" the minotaur's nostrils had flared, for some unknowable reason it was seething with anger, and the dim light from its lantern had only made the situation more spooky.

Thomod's words choked in his throat, he wasn't the best at negotiation and he certainly wouldn't start now. Besides, what could you possibly say to calm a beast such as this? Nothing, they respond to one simple thing, strength, and thankfully Thomod had that to spare.

"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" the bovine screams whilst pointing two fingers toward itself in a flexing position, "YELLFAMOUS! THAT'S WHO I AM!"

"Ohh I coulda swore you were Quietwhispers, the smallest kindliest minotaur 'round." the strongman spoke mockingly, getting into a fighting stance, and perhaps saying a few prayers in his head aswell.

"NO, QUIETWHISPERS IS MY COUSIN, AND YOU'RE SO GONNA PAY, HE IS NOT SMALL!" the enraged beast charged, horns aimed to gore the muscled man straight through the heart.

Thomod tears his shirt off in the most manliest of manners and spouts what could be his final words, "Come on beastie, show me what your made of." Time slows just as it always had for the strongman during his performances, this was unlike any other, well except for the threat of painful death.

You mess with the bull, you get the horns, and Thomod really got the horns. In split timing he placed both of his powerful hands around them and grasped. Digging deep the strongman, aided by Yellfamous's momentum began lifting the monstrosity clean over him. Finally coming down in an extreme suplex of sheer manliness before the minotaur had even realized what occurred.



And just like that, it was over. Through Thomod's superhuman strength he was able to incapacitate the creature with one maneuver. His hands still grasping both horns, breaks them right off, surely they were valuable.

And that was it, but Yellfamous was more than just a sore loser, constantly ranting and raving as he was immobilized on the ground.



Just as Thomod was getting ready to end the squealing bull something had changed his mind like a snap of a finger. Slapping the minotaur to shut it up for a second the man spoke, "One chance, you will change your cruel ways, and I'm giving yeh one chance. If even for a second you get a shadow of an inkling of a feeling that you might hurt someone, I'll be back."




Knocking him out so the the beast could think on it during his rest the dank cave that Thomod was squatting in had become silent. It was during this short silence that a realization had come to the manly man, starting up the circus again, through dubious means no less, was simply selfish. He had not stopped to think of anything more than wanting his comfort back. No, he could change, finding meaning in aiding those who would need aid, in creating a better world for all to live in, even the beasties.

With that thought the strongman headed back to the surface, where oddly Oma was nowhere to be found, perhaps she had anticipated his change of heart, or perhaps she'd thought him dead. No matter, back to Throneshields he meandered. Feeling a heavy burden lifted from his shoulders he had submissions to make!


(Also known as Yellfamous)
 
And a barrel of his blood, said to give great vigor, might, and powerful vocal chords to those that would quaff it.


Through council of the elder wagon, Thomod began traveling westward where he would find an ancient (By reckoning of wagon-kind) fortress known as Murderedflags.

Tune in next time kiddos for more daring adventures of the manliest man around, Thomod Sinaabo!

[Galena]

(Manliness intensifies)