The quantum cannonball hits you in the face and misses!
All hail Vampy! A true hero of the Dwarven people.
"Dying of old age" should be one of the possible dwarven dreams!
We survived no rum. We survived unholy beasts from the depths. We survived the spawn of the Void Itself. We prepared for demons, elves, and goblins.
And we died to kobolds.
Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame.
"I set a hauler to ride a minecart to its next stop. That happened to take the dwarf down eight ramps and then up a launch ramp into an open cavern. High up in the cavern there was a wide ledge and on the ledge there was a goblin, chilling out right where I had created it. I activated the dwarf's squad, and he had just enough hang-time at the top of the flight arc to get a punch in. The goblin struck back but the dwarf jumped on to the ledge, where they continued to fight as the cart fell down into the darkness."
if it's a blob made of steel, don't fight it. it may not heal, but it probably doesn't need to.
28th Malachite
Oh shit. It looks like during my overseeing the hell dungeon became hell on earth that every hellish thing loves. At least the only one who died was the speardwarf, beaten to death by children. Meanwhile it looks like I’ve smelt another dwarf with our dwarf smelting machine. We are down to 96 dwarfs.
Out of time I go running/as you're running out of time./ Storming forth I return from the nothing/I'm back to reclaim what's mine.
Fenix: It is difficult to believe that I am working along side my greatest enemy in order to save this sector.... Fortune has been whimsical of late.
Raynor: You sound like a tired old man, Fenix!
Fenix: Don't let the fact that I am 368 years older than you dull your impression of me young Raynor, I can still — how do you Terrans say it? — 'Throw down with the best of them!'
Raynor: I stand corrected.
Could you lock the door when you leave, and make sure the lawn mowers stay safe?
While wandering a deserted beach at dawn, stagnant in my work, I saw a man in the distance bending and throwing as he walked the endless stretch toward me. As he came near, I could see that he was throwing starfish, abandoned on the sand by the tide, back into the sea. When he was close enough I asked him why he was working so hard at this strange task. He said that the sun would dry the starfish and they would die. I said to him that I thought he was foolish. There were thousands of starfish on miles and miles of beach. One man alone could never make a difference. He smiled as he picked up the next starfish. Hurling it far into the sea he said, "It makes a difference for this one." I abandoned my writing and spent the morning throwing starfish.
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Topic: Sigtext (Read 1084127 times)