DeletedUser12348
Beware ! The Rats always avenge their own. We have a new top secret weapon in this war of attrition. Earplugs ! Black Sunday will never be forgotten.
Last edited by a moderator:
-
Dear forum reader,
To actively participate in our forum discussions or to start your own threads, in addition to your game account, you need a forum account. You can REGISTER HERE!
Please ensure a translation into English is provided if your post is not in English and to respect your fellow players when posting.
-
We are looking for you! Always wanted to join our Support or Forum Team? We are looking for enthusiastic moderators!
Take a look at our recruitment page for more information and how you can apply:
DeletedUser
The Piper looked quizzically at her instrument and wondered about bypassing the anachronistic earplugs. Possibly if it could somehow be made strong enough to lure vermin through heavier soundwaves passing through the skull? or maybe the whole visual swaying thing, like snake charmers (or so she'd heard).
Forewarned and forearmed (and maybe fore-piped?) she passed by the sign on the outskirts of the village just to check. The toothy grin of the squiggly shark still remained. All was good ... it is reassuringly my village.
Forewarned and forearmed (and maybe fore-piped?) she passed by the sign on the outskirts of the village just to check. The toothy grin of the squiggly shark still remained. All was good ... it is reassuringly my village.
DeletedUser12348
In an uncanny twist of events we found that one of the Rats is a specialist in accoustics. Ignoring the anachronistic irrelevancies he walked away mumbling something about attenuation coefficients and relationships to pipe resonant frequencies and harmonics. He turned around and smiled, "like a fish out of water" the boffin mumbled. Do all boffins mumble ?
As a result, the Rat Attack was quick, deadly, efficient and final. Taking out the correct attenuating earplugs, the Master Rat shouted "Victory is ours !!" With an evil grin he decapitated the pied dude and fed the head to the village peasants.
The village was once again happy, tyranny was once again defeated and once again the Rats rightfully ruled the village. The peasants were relieved and well fed on fish and piper head.
Note, we are particularly sad that The Mutt was despatched just before his birthday, ermm today, cough.
As a result, the Rat Attack was quick, deadly, efficient and final. Taking out the correct attenuating earplugs, the Master Rat shouted "Victory is ours !!" With an evil grin he decapitated the pied dude and fed the head to the village peasants.
The village was once again happy, tyranny was once again defeated and once again the Rats rightfully ruled the village. The peasants were relieved and well fed on fish and piper head.
Note, we are particularly sad that The Mutt was despatched just before his birthday, ermm today, cough.
Last edited by a moderator:
DeletedUser12348
A warning for the future, you cannot kill the undead !
DeletedUser
The crowd strolled up the road with banners waving whilst cheerfully singing "happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you".
Their leader held up a huge birthday cake and presented it with great flourish to the rats.
"It's ok, there's not even any warfarin in it!" he reassured them jovially. After some misunderstanding due to the earplugs the message was eventually conveyed and a great celebration was held.
In the midst of it all the new crowd of banner-waving revellers ripped off their disguises to reveal themselves as mercenary troops sent in to hack the rats, both living and undead, into tiny tiny chunks. They proceeded to pile up the remains, dead and otherwise, into a large wicker man (we all have our own ways of celebrating birthdays) and set fire to it.
The villagers danced round and round the warming effigy, and the cake was finally finished.
The embers of the fire smouldered in the early evening light, while a new sign, forged of copper on granite, was erected at the edge of the village. The ornate squiggly shark was back up to proclaim to all those early middle age travellers who passed by that this was once more My Village.
Their leader held up a huge birthday cake and presented it with great flourish to the rats.
"It's ok, there's not even any warfarin in it!" he reassured them jovially. After some misunderstanding due to the earplugs the message was eventually conveyed and a great celebration was held.
In the midst of it all the new crowd of banner-waving revellers ripped off their disguises to reveal themselves as mercenary troops sent in to hack the rats, both living and undead, into tiny tiny chunks. They proceeded to pile up the remains, dead and otherwise, into a large wicker man (we all have our own ways of celebrating birthdays) and set fire to it.
The villagers danced round and round the warming effigy, and the cake was finally finished.
The embers of the fire smouldered in the early evening light, while a new sign, forged of copper on granite, was erected at the edge of the village. The ornate squiggly shark was back up to proclaim to all those early middle age travellers who passed by that this was once more My Village.
DeletedUser
of course rats are very intelligent so they refused to send all of their clan in at the same time... whie their numbers were greatly reduced, the second wave of rats spotted the trap and decided that, where there is cake there is flour, where there is flour their is grain... they found the grain storage and so began a real feast in honour of da MUTT....
the mercenaries, seeing that their grain was eaten, had to go pillage some otehr village and yes, you guessed it, once more the rats ruled the roost....
MY VILLAGE NO GO AWAY
the mercenaries, seeing that their grain was eaten, had to go pillage some otehr village and yes, you guessed it, once more the rats ruled the roost....
MY VILLAGE NO GO AWAY
DeletedUser12348
That's cool Rob but we have just got to get us a few of those wicker mans, mens ? men ? What do you call a man with three blocks of wood on his head ? Edwood Woodwood hehehe.
Don't forget to put our flag up.
Don't forget to put our flag up.
DeletedUser
flag hoisted
DeletedUser12348
I got us a few wicker mens. We can have some fun with these !
And made billy a flag......
And made billy a flag......
Last edited by a moderator:
DeletedUser
"They're WHAT?!!"
"... err, foraging, sir," replied the aide.
The commander cursed the absent mercenaries and summoned his most trusted captain.
Soon a troop of cavalry archers rode out to the village, skillfully skewering the rats with carefully despatched arrows as they galloped through the settlement.
A flanking team sent blazing arrows into some nearby wickermen, not for any strategic reason, they just thought it provided a heroic backdrop to the whole scene.
Soon it was done, and the captain surveyed the aftermath. He was hungry. And quite fancied a spit roast. He saw a dog limping past, so shot it as a prime candidate for dinner. It was a mangy specimen, and the captain wondered how old it was, but it would do for now.
The nomadic horse archers had no use for permanent signs, so simply raised the banner high, that everyone could see, for now at least, it was as before: My Village.
"... err, foraging, sir," replied the aide.
The commander cursed the absent mercenaries and summoned his most trusted captain.
Soon a troop of cavalry archers rode out to the village, skillfully skewering the rats with carefully despatched arrows as they galloped through the settlement.
A flanking team sent blazing arrows into some nearby wickermen, not for any strategic reason, they just thought it provided a heroic backdrop to the whole scene.
Soon it was done, and the captain surveyed the aftermath. He was hungry. And quite fancied a spit roast. He saw a dog limping past, so shot it as a prime candidate for dinner. It was a mangy specimen, and the captain wondered how old it was, but it would do for now.
The nomadic horse archers had no use for permanent signs, so simply raised the banner high, that everyone could see, for now at least, it was as before: My Village.
DeletedUser12348
Didn't really want to do this but we brought in the French rat contingent. You know what French do with horses ? Eat them !!!
Leaving the Frenchies to their brunch ( yeah we had a bit of a lie in today ), we savagely despatched the archers, preoccupied, weaving bits of wicker as part of their CBT.
With the horses gone for a few hours and the archers completely dead, we settled down to watch The Walking Dead, primarily to get some more killin' ideas and drink a few ferkins of the village's finest brew. Our villagers joined us, cheering wildly, safe in the knowledge that the village was no longer a killing zone, at least for a few hours.
The Frenchies huddled around each other then strangely surrendered to us, which we thought was a bit weird. We shrugged this off and kindly accepted their gifts of onions, bicycles and bread.
One of the more coherent of us proudly raised our standard sending out a message to all and asunder that the village was once again rightfully ours. A calm peace settled over the land.
Leaving the Frenchies to their brunch ( yeah we had a bit of a lie in today ), we savagely despatched the archers, preoccupied, weaving bits of wicker as part of their CBT.
With the horses gone for a few hours and the archers completely dead, we settled down to watch The Walking Dead, primarily to get some more killin' ideas and drink a few ferkins of the village's finest brew. Our villagers joined us, cheering wildly, safe in the knowledge that the village was no longer a killing zone, at least for a few hours.
The Frenchies huddled around each other then strangely surrendered to us, which we thought was a bit weird. We shrugged this off and kindly accepted their gifts of onions, bicycles and bread.
One of the more coherent of us proudly raised our standard sending out a message to all and asunder that the village was once again rightfully ours. A calm peace settled over the land.
DeletedUser
"Les rats?"
"Mais oui, beaucoup de rats!" the aide replied.
"Sacre bleu!" the commander cried, before yelling for one of his remaining captains, the head of the heavy armoured infantry.
Soon the iron-shod feet of many grim foot soldiers were back in the village squashing les rats wherever they could be found, which it turned out was pretty much everywhere.
(Including one whose hindquarters had been previously severed and was simply dragging itself across the grass by its front two limbs with a terrifying rictus grin on its face... somehow reminiscent of a TV show almost.)
Without horses to impede them, the infantry soon finished the job.
Looking around at the carnage, the captain spat on the ground. She didn't hold much to social niceties.
Then she simply ordered the flag to be raised again so that all would know, both here and in strange foreign lands, that this was again my village.
"Mais oui, beaucoup de rats!" the aide replied.
"Sacre bleu!" the commander cried, before yelling for one of his remaining captains, the head of the heavy armoured infantry.
Soon the iron-shod feet of many grim foot soldiers were back in the village squashing les rats wherever they could be found, which it turned out was pretty much everywhere.
(Including one whose hindquarters had been previously severed and was simply dragging itself across the grass by its front two limbs with a terrifying rictus grin on its face... somehow reminiscent of a TV show almost.)
Without horses to impede them, the infantry soon finished the job.
Looking around at the carnage, the captain spat on the ground. She didn't hold much to social niceties.
Then she simply ordered the flag to be raised again so that all would know, both here and in strange foreign lands, that this was again my village.
DeletedUser12348
In gratitude for getting rid of the Frenchies, The Rats declare a temporary truce, temporary being the objective word.
The village remains yours and you can keep the onions.
The village remains yours and you can keep the onions.
DeletedUser
The villagers decide to prepare a celebratory feast, starting with onion soup.
And a triumphal arch is erected as a monument to the great battle. Offerings are heaped around its base. Offerings such as peelable spherical vegetables.
One enterprising villager, in recognition that halloween is coming soon, decides to carve faces in some of the spherical vegetables (it's all the rage in some parts of the world) only to discover that it doesn't really work with these ones.
And the troops gather under the banner, to await the next onslaught of rats (they don't trust truces) on my village.
And a triumphal arch is erected as a monument to the great battle. Offerings are heaped around its base. Offerings such as peelable spherical vegetables.
One enterprising villager, in recognition that halloween is coming soon, decides to carve faces in some of the spherical vegetables (it's all the rage in some parts of the world) only to discover that it doesn't really work with these ones.
And the troops gather under the banner, to await the next onslaught of rats (they don't trust truces) on my village.
Last edited by a moderator:
DeletedUser12348
We have a spy in your village, spying.
DeletedUser
The mercenaries were a bit puzzled to be instructed to rummage through all the remaining onions looking for rodents, but at least they were being paid to do it.
"What's the purpose of this?" enquired the mercenary sergeant.
"Simple," responded the commander, "I will not have rat spies lurking about in my village."
"What's the purpose of this?" enquired the mercenary sergeant.
"Simple," responded the commander, "I will not have rat spies lurking about in my village."
DeletedUser12348
Last edited by a moderator:
DeletedUser
The Aide was feeling very pleased. Armed only with a couple of sheets (with eye-holes cut out) a few of them had gone round the village popping out behind street furniture and going:
They hoped that had scared off the last of the rat spies... but you can never really tell what will happen next in my village.
They hoped that had scared off the last of the rat spies... but you can never really tell what will happen next in my village.
DeletedUser12348
The Rats have plans, evil plans. We are waiting for Da Mutt to return from the Undead.
DeletedUser
The armoured infantry shuffled nervously under the great banner, scanning the horizon for signs of canine zombies ... or worse.
The tension rose. We knew it. We just knew it. Surely any minute now they were going to attack my village...
The tension rose. We knew it. We just knew it. Surely any minute now they were going to attack my village...