Corin's Mystery Massacre
v1.01, Copyright (C) 2004, Tarn Adams
www.bay12games.com

With some suggestions by Zach Adams and Ben Ringland

Programmed by Tarn Adams

The Comprehensive Manual: A Preulogy for My Dying Computer
by Tarn Adams

I will be Corin. I was. Never since the Technocalypse have we known such troubled times. Dark forces perverted by chaos have descended from behind the shifting plates that move throughout the grid, our last refuge. Yet our sanctuary has become the focal point of our fears since the generators became polluted by the corrupt electricity from beyond twilight's gleam. Indeed, the stars seem to flicker now only to remind us of that loathed night they belched twisted and premature demise upon our cherished and childish dreams.

Do not look confused, little ones. I have not lost hope. I was Corin, and might be again. A few of us yet stand against the multifarious host. Cover your faces and climb up to that window. From there you'll be able to see half of the grid. No, it's not a comforting sight, I agree. However, if others rise and show their true bravery as you have done, perhaps we can rebuild our society from this ruined and charred system we once nurtured.

In order for you to understand what we face, and how we may yet prevail, let me tell you how it all began. Do you see the smoldering wreck by the power circuit, near that partition wall? That was the tower Orocyclon 9, where the Great Conglomeration occurred seventy years ago. Representatives from the dominant groups in our system came, from the gray shrouded Knights of the Machine with their high culture and sophisticated automatons, right down to the no-hussle gnomes in their brown overalls. Yes, Urdy, you're a gnome, now put your hands down. Now, together these great diplomats forged plans for a collective society where all of us were to get along in peace. Not that there were many problems back then. Those were simple times.

It was on the third night, when the festivities were well underway, that the attacks began. Morally corrupted by whispers from the shimmering shadows of the Souls of Midnight that inhabit the stars, a few of the living mechanisms that operate the power generators for the grid began to soil the natural harmony of the electricity on the grid. Within hours, more than two thirds of the grid was corrupted. The Pulse Engineers were in a half-drunken stupor and noticed nothing. We don't blame them... most were not at their most sober. In any case, the diplomats and their escorts were trapped in Orocyclon 9, surrounded by nefarious electrical ooze.

The tower's weapons could keep the slime at bay, but the worst was yet to come. Indeed, the Souls of Midnight had been gathering chaos and darkness to them without the knowledge of our Hollow Seers. Venomous dragons and enormous steel war machines came. Angels damned, wearing white dresses like deceitful brides, descended from the poisonous and blighted skies, spiralling down locked in vulgar embrace with demons from the Pit. Shimmering storms of red living sand blew through the tower and clouded our minds. Twin-headed serpents came, writhing up from holes they had bored in the circuits. Kobolds were even recruited to mock us as we cowered.

We waited for death.

Actually, as your barracks leader probably warned you before taking you to see me, we did die. Orocyclon 9 was destroyed. We didn't have a chance; this was before the Seers and our chemists developed the Crystallites. Fortunately, not all of our defiled carcasses were twisted into unlife by the Souls of Midnight or liquified into corrupted electricity. I owe the healers this second chance, such as it is. Not many can say the same. However, I digress. Let me get back to the present.

As you know, you are the pilots of the Crystallites. They can be navigated only by innocent and unsullied thoughts, which is why we turn to you. Yes, even you Urdy, although if you don't stop pinching your neighbor, we might have to send you to haul spare parts on the front instead. There, that's better. As pilots, it is your job to reclaim, place and operate generators on the grid. Once a generator is in place, citizens of the Conglomeration will begin to harness electricity to manufacture what you need, as you direct them. Your duty is to reclaim your sector of the grid and defend the citizens under your charge from attack.

My voice is strained, so I'll try to be concise. If your Crystallites are destroyed, they will miraculously reform at their birth areas through the power of your innocent minds, so do not be timid. Each generator belongs to a specific group in the Conglomeration, and the buildings and equipment it creates will be associated to that group. For instance, if you equip a soldier at a generator owned by the Void Walkers, the soldier will drain nearby enemies of life. Adjacent generators often contribute to the projects you are directing, in the true spirit of the Great Conglomeration. You can also arm your Crystallite at a generator. Nearby generators will contribute some defensive modifications. If the enemy has established bases, use your soldiers or fliers to raze them... reclaim corrupted generators...

[cough, wheeze] I apologize that the lesson was brief, but you are needed now, and I tire. Report to your barracks leader, and you'll be assigned a sector to defend. Go. We don't have much time, and the stars will be out all night.