Stay Tuned For The Spooky AdventuresIn a dimly lit office, a dwarf sits at finely crafted pine wood desk. His thick black hair is slicked back and oiled. A manicured hand rubs across two weary eyes and rests on five o'clock shadow somehow growing on top of a beard. The dwarf sighs and focuses on a nervous looking dwarf standing on the other end of the desk. "Okay, tell me how this happened one more time," delphonso said, his hand reaching for a small stone mug of whiskey.
"Well, sir. I um...I wasn't sure what would be considered
normal amounts of frights, so I just sent whatever I received. I was...I was just doing my job, sir." The dwarf fiddled with the stack of papers in his hands. He cleared his throat, his eyes darted to the chair in front of delphonso's desk and he made an attempt to sit.
Delphonso shot upwards, shoving his desk forward slightly with a horrible wood-on-wood screech. The whiskey splashed on the floor. "No, no, no. That seats only for employees!"
"But, sir...I am an employee." He gulped.
"That remains to be seen. How many requests did you receive?" Delphonso pulled open a drawer, a pad of pink-slips sat at the ready.
A list was produced. "Several, sir. Three demons on Tuesday alone. Plus this small army of chuds. Then there were the zombulls - we had to cut corners there, sir. They're just real bulls that we made very angry."
"And you didn't think that maybe - just maybe - this was too much? Like, well, I don't know - maybe there was an error or
something? Perhaps a prank.
Even a test of the system?"
"I had my doubts, sir, but...I mean who am I to voice them?"
"Right. Who are you, indeed. So, care to tell me the end result of your
incompetence?" Delphonso placed the pad on the table and began filling out the form. The nervous dwarf tried not to notice.
"18 dead, at least - likely more over the last few hours...sir."
"And, ignoring the cost of all those extra frights we sent, how much will each death cost us," delphonso asked, he paused in his scribbling and looked up at the dwarf - a dark look on his face. "Just a ballpark."
"Well, sir... Zero."
Delphonso attempted to hide his surprise. Not sure if he should jump across the desk and strangle the man to death or hear him out, he decided caution was the better part of valor.
The employee spread a few papers out on the desk, intentionally covering the half-finished pink slip. "You see, sir, if you review the releases we had everyone sign, death by being scared to death is an accepted risk by every participant or their guardian. That means, sir, that if we can prove that the dwarves died of fear rather than...say loss of limb...then we're in the clear. It's a gamble, but it could get us out of this."
His eyes darting between the different sections and subsections, delphonso put it together.
Christ, he's right. Why didn't I think of that? He placed his elbows on the table and folded his hands. Leaning forward, delphonso said, "Well then. Perhaps you should take a seat and we can discuss this further."
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Alright - well...first thing's first, we gotta get those merchants and the Inspector out of here. There are a lot of witnesses on the surface - those "zombulls" (I guess it's just very angry bulls instead of men in suits like it's
supposed to be) are wreaking havoc up there.
The dwarves on the surface need to get gone. I guess a few down below have locked themselves in for the time-being. That's not a bad idea. Those surface dwarves made an interesting move – they ran off to attack some zombie village in the middle of nowhere. Not really what I expected from a summer camp, but if it gets them out of my hair, I'll take it.
Well - it seems the zombulls have found the merchants. Their wagons shattered into pieces instantly, some of the merchants tried to fight, others ran away.
(This is DF in a single picture)I'm going to try not to get excited about all the things they left behind. This is only good if the zombulls kill everyone.
In fact, let's just send in the clean-up crew.
Yes. I mean
everyone.Here's everyone that's left in the fort. Well, except for those who haven't returned from their mission yet. It seems that the mission idea was a pretty good one – it kept them out of harms way, and means they're not witnesses to what happened.
Oh look, they've returned.
Well, here's everyone that's left in the fort.
Still plenty of time to give them a good fright! I knew that contract with SAG (Screen Actors' Ghosts) was a good choice. This one put on such a convincing depiction of that kid's mother, she'll need therapy for years! It's the little things that make all the difference.
Lie Bad-moral rose a birdemic bird before dying, an interesting strategy which will probably just hurt the residents of The Camp more than it helps.
So now it's just those seven locked in downstairs. Wait...
Oh God! The Inspector is down there with them!
-=-=-=-=-=-
OOC:
Whew - this was only a month or so in game but we went from 27ish to 7 real quick. I'm going to make sure the awesome area built by Salmeuk is fully self-sufficient, give some nicer furniture, and then do a little practice with this whole magic thing before opening the gates again. It seems most of these creatures were not building destroyers - so all of this death could have been avoided by locking the 4 doors at the top. OH WELL.
Also...sorry LuckyOwl. Anyone want a dorfing/redorfing? I'm guessing turn-over in Crystallake is pretty quick.