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Nothing.

At all.

Seriously.

[Jackrabbit]

I like to think it's because the characters angered their respective Gods, but we all know I'm just an asshole.

[CJ1145]

But I still have absolute control over everything, not least the current level of attachment characters have to their privates.

You just won't stop holding that over our heads. ( Take that as you will )

[Jackrabbit]

But I still have absolute control over everything, not least the current level of attachment characters have to their privates.

You just won't stop holding that over our heads. ( Take that as you will )

It keeps you in line. Also, it's a power thing.

[GruffyBears]

But I still have absolute control over everything, not least the current level of attachment characters have to their privates.

You just won't stop holding that over our heads. ( Take that as you will )

What, our privates?

[Vilien]

I suggest we rebel against the Jackrabbit menace. Who's with me?

[Jackrabbit]

The tavern

Vilien was practicing his battle cry when, for no apparent reason, his arm dropped off.

[WorkerDrone]

Laaaaaame.

Also, don't bother. I'm immune to your leprosy.

...

Is that a fireball up there?

FFFFFF-

[Jackrabbit]

He he he. Anyway, enough foolishness. I'll just reatach Vilien's arm and update tomorrow.

[GruffyBears]

Why no update and then reattach Villein's arm?

[WorkerDrone]

Or just update.

[Slartibartfast]

Likul has just recently arrived at ForgedHelms, he was having quite a few problems (especially with the Tax Collector and the hammering. Likul didn't fancy the whole capitalistic thing) at his previous fortress and decided to change proffesions to miner and try his luck in the founding of ForgedHellms.
Likul was a bit of an odd dwarf, he was constantly blinking in the most bizzare way (it is as if his whole face was blinking and not just his eyes), and he talked with a strange intonation, which is probably why he was sent to mine alone towards the east.
Likul mined further and further east, and suddenly the wall collapsed. A powerful wooshing sound was heard as a tidal wave of water rushed over him. Since Likul was an inexperienced miner he wasn't familiar with this effect, the experienced miners all knew to let the water carry them back into their tunnels, and then grab a hold of some land while the water receeded back into the river. Likul however thought it best to hold his ground, and so he held his ground against the flooding water. The water rushed through his open mouth and nose, filling his lungs and causing an excruciating burning sensation in his lungs. He tried to exhale the water, but was unable to because of the massive amounts of water. The water was already receeding back into the river as Likul's final thought crossed his mind "Crap.", then his brain shut down. At least he managed to hold his ground, the water didn't even move him a little.
Suddenly CrazyFace woke up.

[Vilien]

My sudden bout of arm-falling-off-syndrome was not within the canon.

[Jackrabbit]

This is true.

Nazushfikuk

Tamunshin made his way back to the housing area, grave. He replayed the events of the crypt over and over in his head. First, the lich had left him, a wonderful feeling, like a headache had lifted.

The lich flowed into the coffin. For a scant moment, silence reigned, before the coffin burst open and the corpse of Brandon StoneBastion stepped out, its eyes glowing a deep blue.
“Ah. I have a body again. Wonderful. Now I must continue with- WHY THE HELL AM I WEARING A DRESS?” roared the lich. Tamunshin struggled to keep a straight face.
“You asked for a body of some renown. This man is very renowned,” he said, grinning, slightly.
“Hmph. Well, I shall require a mount. I shall leave you alone for now, but remember, come when you are summoned.”
The lich disappeared before Tamunshin could question it further.

Tamunshin rounded the corner and entered a nearby tavern. He needed a drink.

The Warlords throne room

The current ruler of Nazushfikuk sat on his throne. He had just heard a report of a dragon that had been attacking a mining town near the mountains. Something about disturbing it’s habitat, this was the third time in two weeks. He couldn’t let this lie, his people were dying and with it, part of his income. He pondered who to hire for this job. It would be expensive, no doubt. And cavalry wouldn’t cut it, but an enormous amount of companies in the city were cavalry. Damn. But what about Eli Eremo? That was apparently an extremely successful and strong dwarven company. Hang on… he’d never heard of them before. Where did that come from? He didn’t know about that company. But he must have. He must have, or he wouldn’t have thought of them. Well, the Godly Swords would be annoyed; they’d been seeking this contract from the moment it had become available, and had become increasingly angry as the warlord had refused them, hoping the problem would go away. Ah well. He motioned to aid.
“Get me Eli Eremo. They’re staying at the Golden Arrow.”
Behind him, invisible, the lich chuckled.

The Golden Arrow, three hours later

Workerdrone charged down the stairs, axes in hand, face black. So, the little bastard wanted to play games, did he? Well, Workerdrone played hardball, as Kogan would soon discover. Charging downstairs into the tavern, he was surprised to discover Kogan not ready and waiting for him, but drooping over the bar, grinning stupidly into his scrumble. Unperturbed, he charged over.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?” he roared. Kogan just looked up at him, bleary eyed.
“Gods above Olon, keep it down, will you?” he muttered. He looked at the bartender. “I can still hear him, give me another.” The bartender shook his head, shaking slightly.
“I ain’t never seen someone down more’n three scrumbles in a row, and he’s bein’ buried tomorrow. I don’t want another death on me ‘ands, so you just stop and toddle off to bed, a’right?”
Kogan stood up, then sat down again, missing the chair and landing on his rump. Workerdrone bent down over him.
“Why the hell,” hissed Workerdrone. “Did you set up a trap filled with naphtha in my bedroom? Did you really expect it to have any effect? That was the last of it, too.”
“Wha’?” asked Kogan. “I din’ set up no naphtha trap. What the bloody hell are y’ ta- ta- talkin’ about Olon?” He seemed close to falling asleep. Maybe human drinks did have their merits, mused Workerdrone. He shook his head and focused on Kogan.
“What do you mean you didn’t set up that trap?” he asked. “Why would anyone else–”
Whumph
A crossbow was suddenly sticking out of the wall, right next to Kogan’s head. It had the immediate effect of several cups of coffee, a large amount of bacon and a cold shower. Kogan was up and horribly sober in an instant. He grasped his axe. Over across the bar, eight men were running for the door.
“Get back here, you bastards!” he roared, a cry echoed by Workerdrone. They both charged after the men.
Behind them, the shaken bartender started to take down the more expensive bottles of alcohol, and locked away the scrumble.

[WorkerDrone]

After them! Come on!

[TheNewerMartianEmperor]

Oldbeard is searching around the upstairs portion of the tavern. He could swear that that naphtha barrel was right next to his bed when he went to sleep! Looking through the rooms, he discovered what had happened to it.

"Well now.... I'm not gonna be the one to clean this up."

After some investigation of the wreckage, he is able to determine that whoever made this trap was inexperienced, due to it's shoddy nature. Instead of using the environment around it to aid in harming the target, it was set up so the explosion came from above, at an angle that would only harm the floor, instead of smashing the target against the furniture, or sending them out the window.

He did not get a chance to find out more then that, as he heard Olon yell something, and looking out the window he saw 8 me running away. As this was the perfect vantage for raining death upon them, he proceeded to 'calibrate' his weapons.