level 71

Awfully sorry about that

Age 7 years 8 months
Personality neutral
Guild no guild
Monsters Killed about 162 thousand
Death Count 123
Wins / Losses 33 / 24
Temple Completed at 05/08/2014
Ark Completed at 01/02/2017 (132.8%)
Twos of Every Kind 35m, 20f (2.0%)
Savings 4M, 742k (15.8%)
Pet Were-panther Dino 11th level


Weapon icethrower +80
Shield plausible deniability +81
Head data miner's headlamp +80
Body black light armor +80
Arms hands of jazziness +80
Legs kilt of mooning +80
Talisman dragon ball +80


  • eye scream level 48
  • brainstorm level 47
  • acid tears level 44
  • bloody itch level 43
  • thumb blowing level 41
  • concrete placer level 41
  • golden vein level 33
  • beer belly level 32
  • asynchronous swimming level 31
  • electro-broom level 27




  • Honored Favorite
  • Animalist, 1st rank
  • Builder, 1st rank
  • Renegade, 1st rank
  • Shipwright, 1st rank
  • Fiend, 2nd rank
  • Hunter, 2nd rank
  • Martyr, 2nd rank
  • Saint, 2nd rank
  • Careerist, 3rd rank
  • Champion, 3rd rank
  • Coach, 3rd rank
  • Moneybag, 3rd rank
  • Raider, 3rd rank

Hero's Chronicles

Part 1: A hero is, (for want of a better expression), born…

Some are destined for greatness, while others have greatness thrust upon them. Neither case was meant to apply to the one now known as Gorma, at least not in the sense of heroic greatness.


Percival Blashford-Smythe was the youngest of five children. The Blashford-Smythe’s were a wealthy and noble family from the Island Kingdom of Angleslandum.

Percival’s father, Horatio Blashford-Smythe, was 14th Earl of Yargshire; member of the Queen’s Privy Council, gentleman-farmer, inventor of the patented Blashford-Smythe cheese press, and keen amateur cartographer. Life was good for the Earl. His wife, Lady Henrietta was a supportive and loving wife, who engaged in all sorts of charitable ventures. Tobias, his eldest child, was a chip off the old block. His three daughters were all married into influential families. The only slight concern was Percival and what to do with him. He was too much of a dreamer and far too sensitive a soul for the Earl’s liking. Plus he always seemed to be talking to himself. Tradition dictated that two routes lay open for non-inheriting offspring; the military or the priesthood. Maybe one of these routes would make a man of the boy.

A difficult child

Percival had duly been dispatched to The Darnley Preparatory School of Chivalry and Decorum. This was a military academy of huge standing in the Kingdom. Inspectors had rated it as an outstanding educational establishment, with particular praise for its teaching of swordsmanship, etiquette and dealing with commoners. In many ways Percival did well there: he showed great promise in the military arts, was cultured and refined. He displayed the acumen to become a knight-errant… except for one thing. Percival deplored the thought of killing. As such he returned home under a cloud.

Next his father sent him to the Priory of Yorkurbury, to train for Holy Orders. Again he showed promise; he could read and write for a start, and was keen to learn. However, once again there was a problem. The people of the Kingdom worshiped the Holy Trinity of the gods: Woudnin, Elvak and Mabna. People were expected to pay homage to these divines and live their lives according to the sacred creeds. Like the other acolytes, Percival would meditate on the scriptures, attend temple services and pray. The problem was, as he confessed to the Abbott, that when Percival prayed, something or someone sometimes spoke back. In the Kingdom this was heresy! Gods did not concern themselves with such mundane things as actually talking back: they were there to be worshipped from afar.

Fortunately, the Abbott was a family friend and so Percival was merely sent home in disgrace; it was either that or face more draconian remedies. Despairing of what to do with the boy and fearing a scandal, his parents decided it would be best for him to leave the Kingdom, at least until things had settled down.

A chance for redemption

Lady Henrietta’s sister was Dame Edith Fortescue-Hamilton; warrior-poet, playwright and foremost actress of her day. She was due to sail for Godville with her company of actors. There she would tour the land with her new production, “The heroes of Godville; a history in Twenty-Six Acts.” Edith agreed to take the boy.

Edith had always had a soft spot for her nephew, maybe she saw some latent talent in him. She instructed Percival in the business of theatre, and upon discovering that the boy could act, found him a minor part. Percival was to play the role of Gorma, a hero of at best, mediocre importance in the history of Godville. In reality the role was little more than an extra; a walk-on part in Acts 7,10 and 12. Percival, however, took to the role and applied himself enthusiastically to learning his few meagre lines. If anything Percival began to take things too seriously, finding out what little was known about the historical Gorma, and filling in the all-too-frequent gaps, courtesy of his own imagination. Percival found that it helped take his mind off the voices that he continued to hear, but that he had been forbidden by his parents to discuss.

That sinking feeling

Before long, the company was due to sail for Godville. On the 15 August, they boarded The Scurvy Dog and put to sea. For the first week the sea was calm, with a favourable trade wind blowing from the West. However, as they neared the coast of the mainland things changed for the worst; The Scurvy Dog was sailing towards its doom. This would be the final curtain call for all of its passengers and crew, save one.

A hurricane of vast proportions had developed and in that maelstrom, the small ship was lost. Most of The Scurvy Dog’s complement went straight to the bottom with her. A few, including Percival, were tossed into the sea like ragdolls. In those freezing conditions, hyperthermia finished the job that the hurricane began.

Odder and odder

The hurricane seemed to dissipate as quickly as it had formed and a beautiful sunrise caressed the coast of the mainland, the following morning. It was Burt, a simple kelp gatherer, who found the shattered and very dead body of Percival, lying on the beach, where it had been washed in by the tide.

Burt was a good man, and was aware of the fate that the cruel sea can bestow. This was not the first dead body he had seen. He approached the corpse and saw that it had been a young man, who had suffered horrific injuries.

As he stood there and offered a few prayers for the soul of this boy, he slowly became aware that something was not quite right. The air seemed to thicken and unnatural warming light started to envelop the corpse. Too afraid to run, Burt stared in awe and dread as the wounds on Perceval’s body seemed to fade. Then, Percival stirred, rolled over and coughed up sea water, before collapsing back down again. What was this? Witchcraft, some dark magic? Burt would have run, if not frozen to the spot in fear. A memory of an old story his father had told him, started to surface in Burt’s memory; a god would never abandon his hero, even in death. This boy, must be a hero!

Burt summoned up the courage to ask who the young man was, but he did not answer. Realising that they could not stay here, Burt half-carried and half-dragged the boy back towards the hamlet of Lesser Snoring, and his home. Agnes, his sister might be able to help. She was a herbalist and knew many things that Burt did not. Maybe she knew how to help a hero.

Over the next few days the brother and sister tended to the boy, but they were careful not to tell their neighbours that he was a hero. Many people held a dim view of heroes, seeing them as beer-swilling idiots, who probably caused more problems then they solved. Some even blamed the heroes for the increasing numbers of monsters roaming the roads these days. The boy himself said nothing and would do little more than eat and sleep. Agnes suspected that he had no memory of who he was and was little more than a fleshy shell.

A hero emerges, and Heaven help us all

Then one night it happened: a fearsome Giant Enemy Crab attacked the village. This finally snapped the boy out of his stupor. While other, arguably more sensible people ran, he snatched up Burt’s kelp knife and fought back as bolts of lightning suddenly arced towards the beast. Although gravely injured, the boy drove off the monstrosity. As he stood, surrounded by the carnage, butterflies suddenly appeared, landed on him and were then gone, as were his wounds!

The boy fell into a deep sleep and experienced enlightening clichéd dreams of such a magnitude that this humble chronicler could not even begin to describe. He awoke some time later and knew who he was. Percival was gone, lost to the god of Trauma and goddess of Amnesia. In his place now stood Gorma, hero of the god Mabna.

To be continued…maybe…


Other non-chronicle related stuff…

Please don’t feel compelled to read on, unless you really want to.

Accepted ideas…

Here are my submissions that have been accepted by the developers. Trying to come up with half-decent ideas is the aspect of Godville that I love the most. I’ve only seen a few of these in the game myself, so maybe the developers came to their senses in time! NB. Entries appear as they were originally submitted, and may have been subsequently edited or changed. For example, the item “autopsy loyalty card”, appears to have become “funeral home loyalty card”, (unless that was someone else’s idea). Not that I have a problem with that; just glad if anything makes it into the game.

Diary [77 accepted ideas]

Omnismothering One, I know that you mean well, but I need a little bit of alone time now.

Vengeful One, would you like my therapist’s contact details? He specializes in anger management issues.

Dreamt that I lived in a world free of vice, violence and hatred. Woke up in a cold sweat.

Either %pet_name% is going deaf or is deliberately ignoring my commands. Can you imagine how frustrating that is, %rg%?

Um, why are there ripples forming in that puddle? What is that noise?

I seem to have all the symptoms of being dead. I hope its not fatal.

Checked my horoscope in the Godville Times. Apparently today is a good day for me to, %random_quest%. Can’t wait to get that started.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. Can this be happening? It’s happening. %rg%, help!

Sorry my {Lord|||Lady}, I’m currently on my mandatory, union protected tea break.

Nurse! The voices are telling me to do things again.

This is going to end badly for me, isn’t it?

The doctor took one look at my wounds, blanched and ran sobbing from the room. I’m no medical expert, but that can’t be good.

Decided to have a go at improving my equipment. The extra tassels and rhinestones really show my enemies that I’m a hero{|ine} not to mess with.

Thank you for the electroshock therapy, Great One. I feel much more grounded now.

It’s the middle of the night down here my {Lord|||Lady}. Whatever it is, can’t it wait till morning?

I unearthed a hatch door covered in bright yellow warning signs. Do I really want to open it?

It was easier to tell the doctor which bits of me didn’t hurt.

Thanks for healing my physical wounds, %rg%. Next time could you also take a look at my psychological ones?

An angel appeared before me and proclaimed: ‘god_phrase’ He then squinted at me and said: “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

Sometimes I miss the old days. I never got splinters from collecting gold bricks.

Despite its gruff appearance, I’m sure that this %monster% is just in need of a hug. Let’s find out.

If I’m meant to be a great hero{|ine}, shouldn’t I have a mysterious birthmark or something?

I almost feel disappointed that the %monster% died without uttering any last words. At least it left %gold% behind.

My claim for travel expenses was finally processed. Received %gold% from the guild’s bursar.

My mind was flooded with happy childhood memories. No idea whose childhood that was, but thanks for trying, %rg%.

My life flashed before my eyes. Wished I could skip the embarrassing bits.

Can you guess what my answer to that is, %rg%?

Oh no, who will save me from this %monster%?… Ahem! I said, who will save me from this %monster%?… Fine! Looks like I’ll have to save myself.

The trader suspected that I was a secret shopper. Was bribed with %gold% in return for a positive review.

Delivered a mighty blow to the %monster%, killing it instantly. Time to examine its corpse. Yep, its still dead.

I’m standing on bedrock. There’s no way that I can dig through that, unless you can miracle up a jackhammer.

I’ve heard it said that we hurt the ones we love. I guess you must love me a lot, right?

My accountant advised me to %quest%. Apparently I can count it as tax deductible expenses.

In the end, the %monster% cried so many tears that it died of dehydration. Found %gold% on its desiccated corpse.

Expertly evaded the %monster%, like a true professional. Fell to my death off a nearby cliff, like a confused lemming.

Decided to count my blessings. I think I’ve been shortchanged.

Warned the %monster% that I had a %pet_class% and that I wasn’t afraid to use him. It dropped %artifact% as it fled.

Realized that I was actually fighting an actor from ‘Godville: the Musical’. Helped him unstick his %monster% suit zipper and was rewarded with %gold%.

A shifty-looking fellow sidled up to me, gave me a knowing wink and said, ‘%god_phrase%’

I prayed so hard that my soul aches, but I get the feeling it was worth it.

The temple’s choir sung a rousing hymn about the Great One’s many wondrous works. I feel truly inspired.

My ham sandwich crawled out of my lunchbox and said, ‘god_phrase’. Think it’s past its use by date.

Sacrificed %artifact% on a campfire and prayed that my god{|||dess} would forgive my wasteful nature.

A sudden gust of wind blew a copy of The Godville Times crossword page into my face. I quickly removed it, but it left an aura of %v% behind.

I’m sure that I read in the %rg%’s sacred scriptures that possession of %artifact% is a sin. Best get rid of this one, before {He|||She} notices it.

Slew the %monster%. Acquired %artifact%. Yay me.

I think there’s been a dreadful mistake. I shouldn’t have died; I’m the main character.

Is there anything more refreshing than water from a mountain spring? Actually, there is and I know just the tavern I can get it from.

%pet_name% explained why we complement each other so well. He’s the brains and the brawn, and I’m… well, I’m good at carrying the loot.

Please wake up, my {Lord|||Lady}. I need waking up too.

That %monster% looks lost and confused. Maybe I should go over and see if it’s okay. What’s the worst that can happen?

I’m definitely not lost. I’d stake my repu… I’d stake %random_friend%’s reputation on it.

Sure, I could do that. I’m not going to though.

The queue for the toilets was so long, that by the time I got back, the arena was shut. Oh well, I’ll just have to come back later.

I don’t think that’s one of my contractual obligations.

Ran into a slight problem when trying to kill the %monster%. Namely, I died first.

My {Lord|||Lady}, you may be wondering what I’ve done with my %artifact_base%. I know I am.

Whilst composing poetry, I felt compelled to add, “%god_phrase%”. Hmm, not sure that adds anything to my masterpiece.

Okay, %pet_name%, you were right: a %monster% was following us. Now wipe that smug look off your face and help me fight this thing!

Brought along my shovel to %random_friend%’s latest burial. Figured {he||she} might need help getting up.

Someone had carved, “%god_phrase%” into my favorite healing tree. Some people have no respect for nature.

I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m dirty, I’m in a lot of pain and I’m in urgent need of a beer. In other words, I’m heading back to town.

I’m disappointed. No final witty remark from the %monster% and only %gold% on its corpse. Sometimes, I don’t know why I bother.

I don’t like the cut of that %monster%’s jib. Or its sharp teeth and claws for that matter.

A smelting kit and instructions materialized in front of me. Okay, %rg%, I take the hint; one gold brick coming up.

%hero_guild%’s members organized a temporary petting zoo in the main square. The people loved it and no one was accidentally mauled.

Just saw a public opinion poll which showed that the citizens of %current_town% feel %hero_guild% is the least annoying guild of all. Take that %random_guild%!

Can you punish someone else for a change? I heard that the citizens of %random_town% need a good smiting.

Was haunted by the ghost of %random_friend% again. Wish {he||she}’d respect my privacy more when {he||she} dies.

A stork just delivered %artifact% to me. So that’s where they come from.

A blinding celestial light struck a nearby cabbage patch, turning one of the plants into %artifact%. Truly amazing.

Fled once I realized I’d picked a fight with an enemy too strong for me. I’ll almost certainly never make that mistake again. Probably.

Feel much happier after confessing my sins to the priest. Not sure he does though.

Just heard that, due to falling demand, the brewery in %nearby_town% is going to stop making my favorite beer. I need to rectify this right away.

My soul soars like an eagle in your presence, my {Lord|||Lady}. The rest of me feels pretty good too.

Erosion on a cliff face looked liked it spelled out, “%god_phrase%”.

Politely asked the %monster% if I could have its %artifact_base%. It was so impressed with my courtesy that it agreed. See, good manners cost nothing.


Earthly News [88 accepted ideas]

Crawling back to town, pitifully gasping for water…

High fiving bemused strangers…

Lying in the gutter, staring up at the stars…

Full steam ahead…

Waiting impatiently whilst the trader serves another customer…

Coughing to try and attract the trader’s attention…

Drinking sacramental wine, then asking for seconds…

Deliberately losing at drinking games…

Asking whose round it is next…

Frantically trying to look in all directions at once…

In case of emergency, break glass…

Investing in the future…

Regretting not taking out roadside assistance for %pet_name%…

Breaching the conditions of {his|her} parole…

Once more unto the breach…

Brimming with overconfidence…

Asking for directions, then glazing over as they are given…

Trying to hang out with the cool heroes…

Hogging the pool table…

Checking the personal ads in the Godville Times…

Shunning ex-guild mates…

Attempting to start positive rumours about {himself|herself}…

Unsure whether to shine {his|her} light into the darkness, or extinguish it…

Trying to remove blood and rust from {his|her} equipment…

Desperately hoping that’s %pet_name% breathing heavily in the darkness…

Believing that even the most innocent of things are evidence of a conspiracy against {him|her}…

Searching for the hero with increasing frustration…

Prematurely breathing a sigh of relief…

Stifling a yawn in the guild council meeting…

Struggling to take the minutes in the guild council meeting…

Thirsting for truth, justice and vengeance. Oh, and beer…

Using five words when one would do…

Angelic harpists tune up their instruments…

Putting the peddle to the metal…

Claiming it was already like that when {he|she} got there…

Promising to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…

Jolting awake from a terrible nightmare…

Forgetting that it is {his|her} turn to provide refreshments for the guild meeting…

Prepared to say anything to get out of this bad situation…

Forgetting what {he|she} was arguing about…

Daring to be exactly the same as everyone else…

Fainting at the sight of the doctor’s large syringe…

Apologizing for dripping blood on the doctor’s floor…

The hunted becomes the hunter…

Preaching without a license…

Relishing one of those rare moments where the joke is on someone else…

Examining {his|her} latest injury with a mixture of revulsion and fascination…

Experiencing a nagging doubt that {he|she} has forgotten to pack something…

The %monster% is sweeping the floor with the hero{|ine} for %hp%…

Saluting the guild flag…

Through the suspiciously quiet and non-threatening landscape…

Coveting {his|her} neighbour’s beer…

Being misquoted in the Godville Times…

Complaining to the trader about defective healing items…

Failing to avoid the avoidable…

Reenacting {his|her} chronicles with the use of finger-puppets…

Embarrassing {him|her}self in polite company…

Putting {his|her} feet up…

The CGI team have really outdone themselves this time…

Abstaining from moderation…

Damning those who do and those who don’t…

Praying that the Almighty is in a benevolent mood…

Something goes bump in the night…

Doing what’s popular, but not necessarily right…

Quoting {his|her} rights, whilst ignoring {his|her} responsibilities…

Pining for a pint…

Searching for anyone who knows where the hero is…

Searching for the hero on the road to nowhere…

Failing to master the art of diplomacy…

Testing the patience of saints…

Asking the priests to chant quieter, due to {his|her} hangover induced headache…

Stoically accepting the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…

Drowning out the temple’s choir with {his|her} snoring…

Winning the guild’s stupidest death of the month competition…

Taking a starring role in {his|her} own comedy of errors…

Bombarding {his|her} god{|||dess} with compliments…

Faced with opportunities, but only seeing problems…

Flinching at the rumble of thunder…

Suspecting that the dentist has removed the wrong tooth…

Tightly grasping {his|her} weapon in a sweaty hand…

The sun peeks out from behind dark clouds…

Going through his pre-duelling warm up routine…

Wondering whether the referee is open to bribery. Suspecting that he is not…

Trying to whip {him|her}self up into a berserker frenzy…

Mistaking politeness for interest…

Struggling to maintain {his|her} balance against the howling wind…


Duels [40 accepted ideas]

%attacker% gestures to the arena crowd and bellows; ‘are you not entertained?’ Enraged by this arrogant display, a number of spectators pelt {him|her} with whatever they can lay their hands on.

Unseen forces grab %attacker% and %defender%, before smacking their heads together. It seems %attacker_godname% is tiring of this conflict, and wants to knock some sense into both combatants.

%attacker% half-heartedly kicks {his|her} opponent. %defender% exaggerates the force of the blow and rolls around in apparent agony, screaming for a penalty.

Tiring of all the slapstick, %attacker% resorts to good, old fashioned violence, and strikes %defender% with all {his|her} might.

%attacker% scoops up %defender% with the intention of slamming them into the ground. However, %attacker% forgets to lift with their legs and wrenches their back.

The opponents warily circle each other. Well this is no good; one of them is eventually going to have to do something.

Having somehow managed to disarm each other at the same time, %attacker% and %defender% frantically tried to retrieve their weapons.

A member of the crowd is overheard placing a bet on, “the less stupid-looking one.”

Realizing that the jig is up, %defender% waves the white flag.

%attacker% loses sight of %defender% in the fog of war.

Firmly believing that it is better to give than receive, %attacker% gives %defender% the gift of pain.

A courier announces: ‘candygram for %defender%.’ %defender% opens the package only for it to explode in {his||her} face.

Having successfully disarmed {his|her} opponent, %attacker% gallantly allows %defender% to recover {his||her} weapon.

Whilst humming a tune to him{|her}self, %attacker% beats out a rhythm on %defender%’s head.

Boiling tar was poured over %defender%, followed by a thick coating of feathers.

In accordance with {his|her} {god’s|||goddess’} wishes, %attacker% back-peddled away from %defender% as quickly as possible.

%defender% attempted to fix %attacker% with a piercing stare, but ended up giving him{||her}self eye-strain.

%attacker% carved his motto into %defender%’s chest with his claws.

Vines erupt from the ground, ensnaring %defender% and allowing %attacker% a free hit.

%defender% leapt like a gazelle and easily avoided %attacker%’s blow. Unfortunately {he|she} landed with all the grace of a stunned cow and twisted an ankle.

The crowd begin to pelt the opponents with fruit. The combatants are grateful for the free lunch and restore some health.

A confused and very angry %random_monster% materialized, mauled %defender% and then stomped off.

A spectator tries to start a wave in the crowd, but sheepishly stops when no one joins in.

A crack team of nutritionists, physiotherapists and psychiatrists quickly get to work on both combatants.

%attacker% delivers a mighty blow to the top of %defender%’s head. %defender% is left doing a passable impression of a squeezebox.

%defender% gasps, ‘Is this a dagger which I see before me?’ %attacker% confirms that it is and then demonstrates its proper use.

Realizing that the majority of the spectators are school groups, the combatants swear to tone down their foul language.

%attacker% fixes {his|her} opponent with a cold, withering stare. %defender%’s self-esteem suffers minor frostbite.

Feeling a renewed zest for inflicting pain, %attacker% squirts lemon juice into %defender%’s eyes.

Shouting, ‘No! Bad %defender%!’ %attacker% strikes {his|her} opponent on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.

%attacker% spots the ideal moment to strike at {his|her} foe, blinks and then it’s gone.

%attacker% shamelessly flouts dueling etiquette and strikes again.

%attacker% greedily takes another bite out of %defender%.

A thermal updraft causes %defender% to briefly soar like a kite, before plummeting back to earth like a stone.

%attacker% gnaws on a bone, sucking out the marrow and restoring some health.

%attacker% tried to bite %defender%, but just ended up biting his own tongue.

%defender% argued that violence never solved anything. %attacker% violently disagreed.

%attacker% looked so pitiful after missing, that %defender% generously allowed {him|her} another go. Generous, but foolish.

%attacker% may not be the sharpest tool in the box, but {his|her} last attack still cut %defender% to ribbons.

%defender% feigned unconsciousness. %attacker% refused to fall for that old trick, and threw stones at {his|her} foe from a safe distance.


Dungeons [32 accepted ideas]

This is the room where worn-out memes come to die. In one corner, a fox breathes his final words. Elsewhere, ex-adventurers suffer massive bloodloss following the removal of arrows from knees.

Thick layers of dust everywhere indicate that this room has not been used in sometime. Yet somehow, several barrels in the corner contain fresh fruit and vegetables.

A studious-looking demon demands each party member signs a waiver of liability, before they can move %dir%.

This room looks normal, safe and non-threatening. Its a pity that the same can’t be said about the %boss% stood in the middle of it.

The grandeur and opulence of this room is unsurpassed… apart from the treasure room %dir% of here.

A spade falls through a hole in the ceiling, swiftly followed by its owner. %random_hero% points the now concussed hero towards the exit.

This room is under construction. The heroes can’t resist leaving hand imprints in the freshly poured concrete floor.

A wave of despair washes over the group as they see this room has already been plundered. A moment later a tidal wave washes over them.

The décor of this room proves that money does not buy good taste.

This appears to be an ancient chamber. However, upon closer inspection everything is made out of plywood and papier mâché.

This room would be a minimalist’s idea of perfection.

A wandering priest offers each adventurer the last rites.

Scratch marks on the ground indicate that something heavy was dragged %dir%.

A lone picnic bench sits in the middle of this room. The group takes the opportunity to eat their packed lunches.

A perpetual motion machine stands, rusted solid, in the middle of this room.

This room is a metaphor for the heroes’ heads; it’s empty.

The ghostly echoes of children’s laughter can be heard in the distance.

The hand of Fate gently, but firmly pushes the party %dir%.

This room houses several locked safes. It’s a pity no one has any lockpicks.

This room is an oasis of calm, enabling the party to briefly rest and recuperate.

The floor here is so clean that the heroes could eat their dinner off it. Which is what they now do.

A string quartet is rehearsing in this chamber: the acoustics are amazing.

Displayed here are plans, illustrating a proposed redevelopment of the dungeon.

The sound of coin counting machines can be heard to the %dir%.

This room contains various scale models of dungeon traps. Some are working models as %random_attacker%’s fingers have just discovered.

The treasure hunters start to despair that they will never find the dungeon’s golden hoard.

A goblin hunting party flees in terror as the enraged %boss% breaks free of its chains.

Tattered posters advertising long-forgotten arena fights, line the walls of this room.

Someone has painted this room bright yellow, to try and make it a cheerful place. They didn’t succeed.

The contents of this room are made out of wax. Everything is slowly melting.

Like moths to a flame, the heroes find themselves drawn into the %v%’s lair.

The ecstatic heroes have found the treasure! All they now need to worry about is how to lug it back to the surface.


Quests [17 accepted ideas]

prevent catastrophe with one second left on the clock

preach to the converted

organize a team building day for %hero_guild%

judge a book covers contest

act as a roastmaster at a tribute to a senior guild member

prove the guilt of an innocent man

perform a purely selfless deed

violently resolve a peaceful situation

discover what to get the deity who already has everything

conspire against the Fates

reunite a fool with his money

face the music and play second fiddle

enforce the law of the jungle

plant enough false evidence to grow a whole bunch of conspiracies

tempt fate with an offer it can’t refuse

unearth the truth about moles

scare the living daylights out of a nightmare


Monsters [7 accepted ideas]

Prince Charmless

Optical Delusionist

Mistaken Identity Thief

Lost Spirit Guide

Political Satyr

Guardian Angelfish

Fairweather Fiend


Artifacts [12 accepted ideas]

hard-boiled eggnog

support mechanism

modesty award

toolbox of the trade

pecking order form

autopsy loyalty card

pigment of the imagination

skeleton keycard

paper trail

short circuit board

product key

hand-eye coordinates


Equipment [9 accepted ideas]

Shield: rock of aegis

Arms: steel wool mittens

Legs: forced reboots

Body: base jumper

Body: suit of l’amour

Head: spending cap

Weapon: energy spike

Talisman: Saint Arnold medal

Talisman: prior engagement ring


Push Notifications [16 Accepted ideas]

Your hero{|ine} doesn’t look well. – Is there a doctor in the house? Your hero{|ine} really needs one. – “Medic!” – Your hero{|ine} is feeling very woozy… – Hallelujah! You have the power! – Money, money, money! – Quick! Look busy; here comes the boss monster. – Your hero{|ine} has entered a duel. Good luck! – Your hero{|ine} has entered a dungeon. Don’t say we didn’t warn you. – Fortune and glory await in this dungeon. – Time for some R & R in town. – Use this %v% wisely. – Use this Invite to Godville to make new friends and reconnect with old ones. – Your hero{|ine} is dead. Don’t worry; it’s not permanent. – Huzzah! Your hero{|ine} has completed {his|her} quest.


As of the end of October 2014, 298 accepted ideas, plus bug reports, grammar corrections etc., (if my arithmetic hasn’t let me down).


In the news…

Twice mentioned for submitting ideas. Too many mentions in the gossip column for working in the ER. This is getting embarrassing. Darn those paparazzi.