Archive for March, 2013

Mount and Blade

31 Mar

Tomorrow, Monday, April 1st, at 12:00 PM PST, I’ll be saddling up to continue the execution of Operation Kingfister Royal Seat. So tune in for that, as usual, at the Chocolate Hammer Livestream.

I have some site announcements to make. I’m keeping them on ice until tomorrow, though, so get ready to get informed.


Sat and Blade

17 Mar

EDIT 2: Should still have a stream tomorrow, Monday–but it’ll be postponed to 1PM.

EDIT 1: Remember, stream TODAY, Saturday, March 23rd, at Noon PST!

This week’s stream will be on Saturday instead of Monday, since pretty much every weekday I’ve got a final or something during the usual time frame.

Once I resume, I will be proceeding–as planned–to accomplish the goal set for me by contest winner Sir Render. To put it in his words:

…I’ve been thinkin’ about the Prize I’d like and I’ve settled on the first option. Thus I would formally like to request that Cahmel fight a king,, sultan, or other faction leader and punch his butt, his referring to the king for clarification as Cahmel’s attempts to punch his own bottom would necessitate a much higher agility score. Accomplishing this task while streaking is encouraged but not required.

Fighting faction leaders is one of the greatest pleasures I’ve found in Mount and Blade. There’s nothing quite like riding to the back of the charging mob and blindsiding some glittery ponce at 60 mph with a sharp stick–only to see [Your Name Here] has knocked King Sparkle Fancybutt unconscious. I can frankly take or leave victory as long as I get to watch the pompous self-important git pratfall off his fancy horse. The soldiers under my banner who are currently getting hacked apart by his infantry might have different priorities.

Still–beating up a king? As Cahmel? Not an easy proposition. To engage a king on the open field, you need an army worth two shits. I suppose I could cruise the tournaments until my window opens, but since those tend to be more intimate affairs, finding the opportunity to execute an actual, literal butt-punch would prove troublesome.

I could just go into a king’s castle and punch him, obviously. The game wouldn’t even register it as an attack. But I identify this as being against the spirit of the challenge.

Anyway, stay tuned, because this premise promises to be worlds of impossible.



Tributes Go in the Tribute-Place

10 Mar

I’ve gotten to work assembling everyone’s tribute-prizes. Several of these should appear in this space by later tonight–which should be a consolation, because I can’t actually make it to the regularly scheduled stream.

Anyway, I’ll be attacking these in no particular order, so keep your eye on this space.

A note: more elaborate descriptions get more elaborate tributes, in general.

Finished tributes:

Ciennas: Return from Rivet City

Faren: LilBP

Ronan: Grimmest Rock

Kilt’d: Here Doggy

Katesickle: The Last Stand

Sir Render: There Once Was a Neophyte Caster


Ciennas: Return from Rivet City

Down blistered tarmac, my father in tow

We fled to his solace from ages ago

Our trip was on track, with mere miles to go,

When came an attack from our leather-clad foe


A rowdy degenerate ravenous pack

Who bore in brute arms what in cunning they lacked

They came for the battle-worn gear on our backs

And our dainty white skulls for their clattering sack


From ruin and rubble they swarmed, thick as rats

Too vast and too widespread to conjur in VATS


Cursing, my hand found my ammo supply

I felt that I’d one shot for every two guys


I said to dad, “Goodbye;” my father then said,

“I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end.”


A rattle and roar from no obvious source

A boom that would render the throat of God hoarse


The skies lit with fire, the streets newly burned

And some bandits–too late–a safety tip learned


Faren: LilBP

Sack-head desperate freak

Trapped in nightmare universe

Leap–it won’t save you


Ronan: Grimmest Rock

One more door

To go–oh no

There’s even more


I really miss


I’m sick of this


Endless days

We drift and sift

This awful maze


Another day

Another mother-

fuggin’ delay


A button pressed

Monsters appear

We fight, we rest


Taking shape

Our quest, our best

Shot to escape


Beat our heads

Til gloom and doom

Have reached their ends


One more door

To go–hello


Kilt’d: Here Doggy

<electric guitar, drums, bass, sax>

Who let these dogs out? Gettin’ kinda ruff

Like the lobotos and robotos aren’t bad enough

I gotta put down every puppy for a mile around

And I sure ain’t gonna pull that off just standin on the ground, so

<chord change>

I grab some pillar and I climb up high, yeah

Reload my weapon and I swallow my pride

<chorus instrumentation>

I’m gonna lame it out

I’m gonna lame it out

Yeah yeah

I’m gonna lame it out

Gonna lame these suckas right out, alright, yeah

<guitar solo>


Katesickle: The Last Stand

The samurai stood bravely poised, her eyes aflame

And faced without a shred of fear the tomb’s travails

For from its holes and barrows, twisted creatures came

And filled the stagnant air with shrieks and dreadful wails


For such malignant beings a beating heart offends

So long as in its blood no evil will resides

And so they sought to bring her heartbeat to an end

And taste her blood upon their feral tongues besides


But though the samurai was forced, at last, to pause

For walls and creatures lay at every hopeful turn

Not easily would she fall beneath their slav’ring jaws

For through her trials, she did a word of power learn


With swiftness born of courage and of iron will

“Elbereth” did she scrawl–its purpose well conceived

For though to thoughtless creatures it did little ill

The flight of all her sapient foes was swift achieved


And as the mob was half in flight, she sprang away

But not to flee herself, and face a coward’s shame

But rather to entrench within a slender hall

And face with readied blade what vile creatures came


The first thing howled and leapt, her throat to tear away

But met her brand instead, and toppled, hacked in twain

A line of brutish orcs charged screaming to the fray

With skillful ease, she slashed apart their warlike train


Despite their furious onslaughts, she would not be moved

And past their slaughter, proudly stood–her mettle proved


Sir Render: There Once Was a Neophyte Caster

There once was a neophyte caster

Who’d have no Empire as his master

So he took up a cloak

Joined the Storm, went for broke

And declared civil war on the bastards


With Ulfric he fell in cahoots

To rip out the Imps by their roots

For freedom he’d strike

Legionaries and the like

Burn their forts, kill their guards, seize their loots


One day Solitude lay in their reach

“This is it!” cried Ulfric in his speech

And an army of Nords

Charged unstoppably towards

The blood-soaked and perilous breach


The mage lead the way through the strife

(Perhaps with his eye on a fife)

And fell, once apart

On the mage martial art

Of running away for his life


He fought with a magical blend

Of backpedaling to defend

And throwing mage fire

To garner the ire

Of Legions that spawned with no end


And tragic though it is to say

Brave Ulfric did perish that day

Then, groaning, stand up—

His men’s mourning interrupt

And make puzzlement of their dismay


The mage proved a hero to be

For on average, he fought valiantly

And after the fight

Had a future most bright

(Or more so that Cahmel’s—you’ll see)


Winner Announced

09 Mar

The contest winner has been selected, and will be announced today. In the meantime, if you participated, post your moment of triumph from any game below so I can get cracking on your very own hagiographic ode.

And the winner is…

As one unused to running contests, I’m beginning to see that the whole “picking a winner wasn’t easy” bit isn’t a sarcastic chestnut after all. The fact is that I was tickled by each and every one of your entries into the contest–even the joke/late ones–and would be perfectly happy to have awarded any of you the prize. That’s part of why I included a participation bonus three-quarters of the way through, actually. So another clarification: anyone at all who submitted anything at all up to this point can get their own tribute crafted.

Anyway. At the end of the day, I’m giving the prize to the aptly-named Sir Render, and will–pending Sir Render’s permission–post his submission up here above the water line. And now, a selection of prizes, from which one may be chosen:

1.) Devil on the Shoulder: For the star-crossed Mount and Blade game that inspired the series in the first place, you can lay down an ultimatum that will act as an insistent voice inside my character’s head. From now on, everything I do will act to accomplish that goal/to honor that goal–if indirectly (raising funds, training, gathering support, etc). This goal can be mundane or grand, one-time or persistent, and anywhere from tricky to literally impossible.

2.) Chained to the Typewriter: I’ll write up to 700 words on any subject, fictional or nonfictional. I’ll only post it if it fits my site’s loose content guidelines, so if you want this to be readable, aim south of, “The Habits and Intriguing Bodily Features of Atheist Leper Prostitutes”.

3.) The Jeez Louise It’s a Real Goddamn Prize: One free copy of Hotline: Miami, presuming Sir Render is…I guess it’s not actually ESRB rated? Yeah, one copy of Hotline: Miami as long as you’re not like twelve years old, I guess. I dunno.

Sir Render, choose your prize–and name the subject of your very own tribute–below.


Mount and Blade: A New Apprize-al

03 Mar

Stream today at noon PST, as per usual. Now mosey on down and read the news post.

As the Mount and Blade epic tribute contest winds to a halt–and may I just say that I have enjoyed tremendously all of the contributions I’ve received so far, and extend my heartiest thanks to all who participated–I’ve run into an unfortunate pickle on my end. It’s fitting that this problem correlates directly to the reason this contest exists in the first place: my grasp of M&B is pitiably weak.

To wit: as a few learned comments pointed out, it is, despite what I’d remembered, impossible to rename M&B companions. The name field is as highlightable as your own, but nothing comes of clicking it. I probably should have experiment with this first. What this means, of course, is that I’m going to have to offer a backup prize.

So when I announce the winners on March 4th, I’ll be offering not the aforementioned prize, but one of three possible prizes. I’ll also be offering a prize to all participants in the contest; if you post a paragraph of exposition about one of your own conquests or moments of glory in a video/board/roleplaying game, I’ll give you a tribute in a Tributesplosion that will crop up later this week. I might choose to honor your glory in poetry, in prose, in image, or in pornographic Dadaist interpretive dance converted to low-res animated gif. I’ll see how the fancy takes me for each item.

So if you’ve already given me a submission, you can post what you want a tribute to below. If you haven’t given me a submission yet, get it over to me first, then do that thing I just mentioned. I’d post a third option, but really, is there one?

The three prizes will be announced Wednesday, but I will say this: the winning submission will also receive the most effusive countertribute.