This is probably a terrible idea that I'll soon regret, but I've been meaning to make a forum game for some time now, and I figured I should start small. This game has no pictures, as I really don't have the skill with a mouse that I have with a pen, and my scanner is on the fritz. Once again, this was a terrible idea, and I apologize.
The steady tap of small feet on stone echoed through the cavern, a chipper young gnome dragged his pick behind him as he descended the narrow tunnel and into the deep of the iron mines. Occaisionally, the dim light of oil lanterns dirtied with dust and grime were seen bobbing up and down as the other labor gnomes descended the intricate tunnels, to the eightteen hour work day ahead of them. All of them but one hung their heads low and groaned as they made their way into the deep of the caverns. The one who was unanimously agreed to be the most hated among both the workers and the masters, you. Unlike the others you enjoy laboring in the deep of the Earth, emerging with bounties of ores and gems, you take comfort in the knowledge that you are the mighty pillar holding up the mammoth weight of the great Dwarven empires. You gladly toil, near endlessly, so that the great empire of The Zealots of Ale may flourish, and grow to encompass and tame wild and exotic new lands in the far corners of the world. Of course the knowledge of current events is restricted to only the Dwarves, so you can only guess that your great efforts are the driving force behind the well oiled machine of DrunkenCloisters, but you trust them enough. You spot your friends nearby. You don't have many friends, but you're fine with a close knit circle of only a few. Normally you'd go over to them and have a chat, but your Magic Eight Ball, an artifact of great and mysterious power (probably made by a wizard or something) told you that you'd stumble upon great fortune today. As always, the Omniscient Octisphere was very cryptic in it's predictions, mostly because it only answers yes or no questions, but you have all reason to trust it. You could very well could strike a mother lode of iron and gems! The very prospect of all this wealth going directly to your despotic rulers makes your mouth water. You find the deepest part of the mine, normally you and the others would mine out the higher levels before going down to the deeps, but you have a feeling, and you always trust your feeling, no matter how idiotic. You bring your pick over head and bring it down full force onto the stone, sparks fly, the crack of rock on pick resounds, and gleaming against the faint glow of the your lamp is... What the hell is this? A glimmering cyan metal is a sharp contrast to the drab rock around it. You draw the Omnisciente Ocho Bola from your pocket.
"Is this the fortune you were talking about? What is this?"
ASK AGAIN LATER
You shoot a concerned glance towards the blue metal, for some strange reason, you find yourself rather vexed by it. You tell yourself that you're probably worrying over nothing, it's probably just some kind of semi-precious metal or something. You decide to report it to your overseer, like you're always supposed to do at the discovery of a new vein of metal, no matter how trivial. An hour later, you and your friends are sent back to your dormitory, the mine has been closed, the doors locked, the keys thrown away. you know you shouldn't question your superiors, but curiousity gnaws at you. Why would they shut down an entire mine, especially one which had produced such great amounts of hematite and other useful minerals? And why the secrecy? You've always trusted your Dwarven masters, why would they have anything to hide? You need to sort this out, but first thing first, what's your name?
NAME:_
I expect you to at least take this half seriously. But spontaneousness is encouraged. Just don't go murdering everyone on a fancy, now.
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Topic: Plight of The Forced Labor Gnomes: A Suggestion Game (Read 4168 times)