1743
« on: October 15, 2009, 05:00:33 pm »
"I am Leechman Brown, and I'm here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? No, says the man in kingdomplace. It belongs to the poor. No, says the man in the religionplace. It belongs to gods. No, says the man in beginning dwarf fortress. It belongs to everyone. I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture. A city where the artist would not fear the censor. Where the alchemists would not be bound by petty morality. Where the great would not be constrained by the small. And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well, my friends! These Chasm monster menaces might soon sweep upon our humble dwellings! We must dig deep unto the earth to make secure lodgings for ourselves! I have here with me some picks of dwarven make! With them the dream of a safe place to raise our young can become a reality! Think of it my friends! No more searing sunlight on our delicate moist skin! No more fearing the creatures of the dark while we lie in our beds! Together we can, with Rapture!"
You lift your tentacle-like arms to the skies, and a cheer erupts within the crowd. They didn't understand much of what you said, but at least they have your support in this endeavor. Now swampdwellers, strike the earth!
