Aquarionics

This is Bob’s fault

I

The kingdom was in ruins. Count Jim “Twee” Moriarty had suceeded, quite literally in fact when he stormed the castle, proclaimed himself king, and sat down to do some ruling on the great Royal Throne of Albian. The Throne, beyond all other things in the Kingdom, was the symbol of the monachy. It was big. It was stone. It was really, really uncomforable, and it was in the castle.

In a village not far from the castle, the usurped king sat and bewailed his lot. When the Count and his army of golden giants had stormed the castle, he had only just managed to get away with his life, a few of his household, and a few knights. He must, he decided, get his kingdom back. They would wait until early morning, when the giants guarding the castle were sleeping, sneak in and steal the Amulet of Yendor, which enabled the Count to control the Giants. They began walking at dusk, and reached the castle just before dawn, his tired staff in tow. They would storm the castle, and they’d do it all with a few sleepless knights.

II

The first hurdle to be cleared was getting into the castle. The gate was guarded by a Golden Giant, who was fortunatly asleep as was planned. Unfortunatly for the King, it was asleep with one giant hand completely blocking the gate of the castle.
“No Problem” said a knight in black armour, and cast a spell to summon wind and rain to drive the giant away (He was a dark and stormy knight), but this didn’t work, and he was swept up by the Giant and thrown several miles into a handy bed of candyfloss. The second fighter attacked with a large lump of wood, but alas the knight-club didn’t work, and he too was thrown. One after another the knights tried, and all but one failed. The final knight was an expert in getting into castles (He was a fort knight) and suggested that they waited a while. Sure enough, the giant fell asleep again with his hand over the door, but this time the King – at the knights suggestion – sent a couple of his Pages though, who were able to fit though the gaps around the Golden Giant’s hand and into the castle, where they opened the back door for the King and company to march though.

Which all goes to show, said the knight, that you should always let your pages do the walking with the yellow fingers.

III

When they got to the throne room, they found it was gone. Not the throne room, but the throne. The Count had heard the fighting by the gate, and had ordered a couple of his giants to lift it and take it, and as the king looked out of the window he could see the giants carrying the chair – and the Count in it – towards a village in the north. The King gave chase.

A couple of hours later, the King and his supporters arrived at the village. The residents of the village, who didn’t want any trouble – pointed to a straw house towards the south. The King went inside and demanded to see the Count “He isn’t here” the owner said “He’s not here”, and indeed he seemed not to be lying, since there was nowhere in the small straw cottage to hide the massive throne. But then, with a crack, the ceiling of the cottage gave way and the throne crashed to earth, crushing the cottage owner.

Which just goes to show that people who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.

IV

The Count leapt up from the throne and ordered his Golden Giants – who were hiding around the back – to attack, but the king snatched the Amulet off the count and wore it himself while the Knight caught hold of the Count. “You are accused of High Treason” said the King “The sentance is death”.

They dragged the count outside and tied him to a rock with his head over a treestump, and the Knight raised the Cottage’s wood-axe over his – the count’s – head.

“But!” said the King, “You may live if you tell me where you hid the royal treasury”.
“Never!” said the count “I’ll never speak”
“Right.” said the King, and nodded to the Knight, who swung the axe again.
“NO! WAIT! I’ll tell! I’ll Te…” began the count.
thunk concluded the axe.
“Bother” said the King.

Which just goes to show that you should never hatchet your counts before they chicken.

Fin.

So, what’s the most twisted remix we could put up here? The garage remix of the Ski Sunday theme? 187 Lockdown? Smooth Criminal (Michael Jackson remixed with Alien Ant Farm version)

Nope.

I’d say it was, fairly conclusivly, Nine Inch Nails – Closer

I probably should apologise for this.

That is, Sailor Jim Johnson has a livejournal.

That is, this Sailor Jim of ‘Boingy Boingy Boingy’ fame has a LiveJournal

One for the feeds list, then.

Beware the bored designer.

More functionality may be coming soonish, but I quite like this as it is…

So, with little fanfare and a couple of outstanding bugs, the Nomic Rules Management system for the new Nomic game (Which is still open, btw) has gone live.

Technically, it’s a marval. Well, It has marvelosity. Technically it’s a malted hot drink then. (And with that, we begin the descent into anarchic britiocentric referencing, for which we apologise).

Okay, so this post is split into two parts, Nomic the Game, and Nomic Rule Manager 1.0. With this duet of games and geekness, I forsee that I’ll be able to totally alienate both halves of my readership at once with no unplesant verbal bending.

Nomic, Then.

Nomic is a metagame. It was invented by Peter Suber as an anology of law making. Basically, it’s a game in which there are no – or very few – rules to start with, but the ability to create new rules is in the rules. More information can be found on NomicNet, more specifically in the NomicWiki. My personal set of starting rules is derived from Peter Suber’s set, with a number of differences, mostly involved in playing it online instead of in person (In person, I prefer The Chairman’s Game) and doing away with all of the inital winning conditions so we can define our own.

Nomic Rules Manager is a simple rules manager for Nomic. It’s written in PHP, backends onto a database, and has an RSS (And ESF) feed. Yay. Code is Here