Tribal Wars is a browser-based set in the Middle Ages, where players are each assigned a single village in which they purchase upgrades for their various buildings, build troops, make diplomacy, and wage war with one another in an ultimate vie for power and world conquest. Whilst going about my village, Slaughterville, inspecting my troops and whipping my peasants, I discovered something quite curious...
In the castle of Slaughterville, there are noblemen. In the barracks of Slaughterville, there are soldiers. In the market of Slaughterville, there are merchants. In the fields of Slaughterville, there are serfs. In the stable of Slaughterville, there are asses… And in the square of Slaughterville, there are two men who cannot, for all the gold and glory this good world has to offer, stop fighting.
Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the virtual flesh, everyone.
These two men appear every day just before sunset and resume their tired argumentation and shouting, which I can only assume has been going on for years now. Perhaps their families have been feuding since before I staged my bloody coup that ushered in a new era of tyrannical rule with me at the throne, or maybe they’re old high school sweethearts who are sexually frustrated with their spouses they were forced to marry at the cruel hands of heterosexual society, and have resorted to screaming at each other in public to express their age-old love. Of course, it could be something entirely different, but I find both of those scenarios to be laughably plausible. My detail of guards have been performing a bit of espionage to decipher their psychobabble in hopes of discovering the true origin of their plight.
Unfortunately, all of my soldiers have no sense of time, and thus are spying at all the wrong hours of the day.
In my head, I’ve named the one on the right Fred Freddie Frederickson (Though I just call him Fred) and the other man Reginald Tobias, or Reggie for short. My guardsmen have recently informed me that Fred’s wife has been sleeping around, and he has finally become wise of her treachery and has taken to the streets to scream at her forbidden lover, Reggie.
I would merely pass this over to the constable and be done with this silly case of petty adultery and move on to more pressing matters such as flogging the town wench (implicit winky face), but over my few weeks of study I have begun to notice something very peculiar about the way Fred and Reggie go about screaming in each others’ faces: They stand deathly still, except for their arms.
It would appear that the two men are not only flailing their limbs about wildly, they are doing so without even acknowledging that they have no control of their upper appendages. This is only made stranger by the fact that the more immersed they become in their anger, the more uncontrollably their arms fly in the wind like those wacky waving inflatable arm-flailing tubemen you see at car dealerships.
My God.
After lengthy research and consultation of the village scientists, we have concluded that the only logical explanation is that some sort of bizarre chemical has seeded its way behind our walls, possibly through the water supply or in the horse’s feed. (As it happens, Fred is actually the man’s name and he is an overworked servant in the stables.)
We can only assume that this hazardous substance has been biochemically engineered by one of the neighboring villages, and have begun abducting their children and holding them hostage in an attempt to find out which one has broken the “no biological weapons of war” rule.
In the mean time, I’ve noticed a rather peculiar man who has begun to make random appearances in the town square. He is an oddly dressed hoodlum, wearing brightly colored loins and juggling a few balls in a pathetic attempt to garner some attention and a few coins. Where did this strange man come from? How long has he been there? Can he make balloon animals?
Some have begun to adoringly call him Bonzo the Clown and have heralded him as the new jester of Slaughterville, but I fear that he may in fact be the insidiously infamous Bonzo the Terrorist, employed by my enemies to poison my people and usurp my throne.
Just looking at the bastard plotting there in my front yard makes me sick to my stomach. Needless to say, this so-called Bonzo the Clown has been taken in for extensive Chinese waterboarding and questioning… But primarily Chinese waterboarding. I shall be sure to keep you posted on the situation as it evolves, but I assure you all this: No silly-looking clown spy is going to get the best of me!
(You can read this article on my blog, the Respectable Gentlemen's Organization, here. Check out everything else on RGO here.)
