Prologue - 015

Prologue - 015

Turns since TBfGK: 11

The new Gobwin Knob was growing on Parson, but it hadn't lost any of its weirdness.

There were only a few basic functions of an Erfworld city. All of them were for war. But among the empty cookie-cutter buildings, this city had many oddities: structures that imitated functions it didn't really have.

There was an amphitheater, for instance. It would seat about 800. Why? There was never any reason to go there. Something like a bank or counting house stood on one corner near the garrison, its steel vault bare. There was an ice house, where blocks of burlap-covered ice would pop. When they eventually melted or sublimated, more ice blocks would pop.

And there was also a slaughterhouse and smokehouse. This struck Parson as particularly weird, because of how farms worked. As he understood it, if you had a farm, then one turn a piglet would pop on your farm. It would live there for a few turns, becoming a bigger pig each turn. Then at the start of another turn, it would depop and various pig-related foods would pop in the larder of the nearest city and/or the capital.

Gobwin Knob's slaughterhouse stood clean and empty, fresh sawdust on the bloodless floor.

But he had to go and look at it, or it wouldn't "work" as efficiently. They would get more bacon next turn because he had walked in and out of the slaughterhouse this turn. Or possibly the act looking at it would doom the pigs, cows and chickens on some farm. He wasn't really sure.

Parson usually took along someone to talk to as he made his rounds. Sometimes this was Maggie or Sizemore. Sometimes it was one or two of the Decrypted Warlords or Archons. Today, it was Jack, the Foolamancer.

They walked the back streets where other units were sparse, poking their noses into various buildings. Parson still wore his armor and jeans, but had acquired a walking staff topped with a little wooden Hamstard.

Jack wore a dark purple trench coat and a wide-brimmed white hat, and carried a thin straight cane, topped with an 8-ball. He had a birdlike habit of glancing around at things, fixing his eyes on one nearby spot after another. Parson got tired of following his gaze to see what he might be seeing, and eventually started walking a step ahead of him. Jack said very little, unless prompted.

"So what do you think, Jack?" Parson had asked him earlier. "Why have something like a treasure house if there's nothing inside it?"

"A house unkept cannot be so distressing as a life unlived," said Jack.

Jack was supposed to have his mind back together, but Parson had his doubts. He also didn't like non-answers. "You're saying you don't know."

"I am saying I don't care, my good Lord," said Jack, tilting his head. "But that is true as well."

They came to what Parson thought of as the courthouse, a small jail with holding cells. Empty, of course. They walked through the building, along the rows of iron bars. "I guess this place actually does have an Erfworld function," he mused, as they came to the exit. A set of iron keys hung on a peg, and he jingled them like a wind chime. "Taking of prisoners, etc..."

Jack glanced back at one of the tiny windows in one of the open cells. "No longer, it would seem."

He followed Parson out into the street. "Fashions change, my good Lord," said Jack. "The taking of prisoners is passe. Skulls are the new shackles." With his cane, he gestured toward a pair of Decrypted soldiers standing on the opposite corner. "But black still goes with anything."

Parson thought about it as they walked two blocks toward the lumber yard. The clacks and rings of city activities carried on the breeze. "Yeah, Wanda's scary," he said at last.

"Oh come now, good Lord," said Jack, smiling brightly. "Surely you can be just as scary!"

Parson smiled, despite himself. "Jack..." He sighed, and stopped walking. "No. I'm out of the 'scary' business. Or trying to be."

The Foolamancer looked at him wryly. "Are you? I thought you'd a talent for it."

"That's the problem."

"I see," said Jack. He turned and started walking again. Parson now followed him. "To have talent is to be in demand. I well know."

"Yeah. Right. But my talent has... I dunno, moral consequences," said Parson. "I don't think they're worth it. So I've got it so I don't have to be in demand. Happy enough with that for now."

"The talent itself supplies the demand, good Lord," said Jack. He stopped suddenly, looked up, and raised his cane. "Here, the sky."

The ten or twelve dwagons flying around up there seemed to double. As Parson looked closer, though, he saw that about half of them were in odd colors. Orange, silver, maroon, and even a candy-striped one.

Parson looked down at Jack, "You just felt like making some fake dwagons up there?"

"Indeed, my talent demanded it," said Jack, with a twinkle in his eye. "Just as yours demanded you put real ones up there."

Jack turned again and began walking away. "Do you suppose that will carry any 'moral consequences?'"

image

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Recent posts... (See full thread)
moose o death wrote:
i guess so but what purpose does that serve? you can only see friendly unit stats


It would be useful for spying. However, there is no indication that it is possible to spy.

Also, spies would need some way to circumvent standard turn orders. They would have to be able to move on other side's turns.
raphfrk wrote:
moose o death wrote:
i guess so but what purpose does that serve? you can only see friendly unit stats


It would be useful for spying. However, there is no indication that it is possible to spy.

Also, spies would need some way to circumvent standard turn orders. They would have to be able to move on other side's turns.


I don't think that would be an absolute requirement to making spies useful.
DevilDan wrote:
I don't think that would be an absolute requirement to making spies useful.


Well, at minimum, you need to circumvent battlespace effects.
Well, Parson should be loosing some weight from all this exercise he's being forced to get.
raphfrk wrote:
DevilDan wrote:
I don't think that would be an absolute requirement to making spies useful.


Well, at minimum, you need to circumvent battlespace effects.


Given how little we know about how "battlespace effects" work, that's a stretch.
Infidel wrote:
Well, Parson should be loosing some weight from all this exercise he's being forced to get.

the next update explains why that isn't the case, neither parson nor anyone around him see's parson as a thin man. if they all got brainwashed and remembered parson looking like jim carrey, a month later it seems he would. possibly dependant on strength of belief for time taken.
moose o death wrote:
Infidel wrote:
Well, Parson should be loosing some weight from all this exercise he's being forced to get.

the next update explains why that isn't the case, neither parson nor anyone around him see's parson as a thin man. if they all got brainwashed and remembered parson looking like jim carrey, a month later it seems he would. possibly dependant on strength of belief for time taken.

Actually, existing Erfworld mechanics already explain it. At the start of every turn, - POP! - he's restored to how he was the day before.
Fat is an energy reserve. Whatever you used up the previous day would be restored.
Exercise doesn't work, because exercise actually damages the muscles and rebuilds them stronger than they were before. In Erfworld, your muscles would just pop back to the way they were - fully healed, but no improvements.
MarbitChow wrote:

Actually, existing Erfworld mechanics already explain it. At the start of every turn, - POP! - he's restored to how he was the day before.
Fat is an energy reserve. Whatever you used up the previous day would be restored.
Exercise doesn't work, because exercise actually damages the muscles and rebuilds them stronger than they were before. In Erfworld, your muscles would just pop back to the way they were - fully healed, but no improvements.


Well, the point seems to be that the appearance of a unit is a sign.

Update wrote:

Our bodies and all the things we see and touch were supposed to only be Signs: symbols of their true nature.


Parson's appearance should therefore be representative of his true nature. Ofc, he could be an exception.

There could be a slow change as your appearance tends towards your inner true nature. Is Jillian changing or did she instantly change and her body is slowly changing to match her new true nature.

There was also talk that perhaps the charisma stat has an effect on what a person looks like. This would be an explanation.

Parson might have a low raw char stat, while Ansom's is high. He is someone who would be underestimated on first sight.
Additionally confouding any possible weight loss is the fact that Parson's apparently classified as a Heavy unit. I'm just guessing here, but I'd say he's probably stuck with that.
imgran wrote:
Additionally confouding any possible weight loss is the fact that Parson's apparently classified as a Heavy unit. I'm just guessing here, but I'd say he's probably stuck with that.

No one can see his stats, but it seems that for at least some purposes Erf considers him the equivalent of a heavy unit.

Or maybe he just bloody well weighed to much for that dwagon.