StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Keep the clothes, don't buy anything unless it is spare parts and hunt for food (maybe up the loadout of ammo a bit). Again a single buffalo will ALWAYS (IIRC) exceed your maximum food retrieval so as soon as you gun one down stop and save ammo (then hunt again as soon as the session finishes).

So anyway Wilken's Rules of the Trail:

- Ford under 3 ft, Caulk under 5, ferry everything else
- Every chance you get to buy spare parts do so, always stay maxed out
- Keep the damn clothes, at least 2/person
- Buy oxen if you have fewer than 8 but otherwise we're fine
- Hunt anytime food gets under 250lbs, shoot one buffalo then stop, hunt again, shoot one buffalo, and move on.
- Spend a day or two at each fort just to rest and recuperate.

So I was drinking at a party last night and this thread came to mind, so when friends mentioned that their band's demo was complete I told them they sucked and that they should disband and reform as a goregrind band. They would have to be called Goregon Trail and all of their lyrics would have to be about the game. I guess I wound up writing these:

Apparently on a napkin I found in my jeans I wrote:AAAHHHHHHH FUCKIN INDIAN
AAAAAHHHHH FIVE DOLLARS
AAAAHHHHHH FORD THE RIVER
AAAAHHHHHH SAVE THE MONEY

STRUGGLING LIVESTOCK DIP BELOW WATER
LUNGS AND ESOPHAGUS BURNING FOR AIR
CAUGHT IN THE MUD AND EXHAUSTED BY CURRENTS
THEY HAVE BEEN SWALLOWED WITHOUT A CARE

FRAGILE AND WEAK WAGON CASCADES
END OVER END AND INTO THE DEEP
FIVE YEAR OLD SON DROWNS IN AN INSTANT
DAUGHTER GETS CHOLERA AND DIES IN HER SLEEP

We now return you to your regularly scheduled thread, already in progress.

I can't stand that kind of music, but that is epic.

I think most goregrind is a dumb gimmick, but you can squeeze the word "gore" into the name of the game with ease. Almost writes itself.

This thread is stupid

Shroom Man 777 wrote:This thread is stupid

Because of the Goddamn Libertopians?

And the Goddamn Dysentery. Poor (Goddamn) Dalton

Shroom Man 777 wrote:And the Goddamn Dysentery. Poor (Goddamn) Dalton

Yeah, that was a pretty shitty thing to happen to him.

Man, I played Oregon Trail Deluxe as a kid and more crap happened than what's going on here! Someone get bitten by a snake already!

RogueIce wrote:

Shroom Man 777 wrote:And the Goddamn Dysentery. Poor (Goddamn) Dalton

Yeah, that was a pretty shitty thing to happen to him.

Dysentery's like the best part of the game.

Okay, back to the OREGON TRAIL.

Setting out from Fort Laramie, the intrepid crew headed for Independence Rock.



It was hot, humid, and muggy. Not the kind of weather you would want to travel in, and to top it off, they were low on food and everybody was in a hungering mood. Wayne Poe drew the shortest straw and so had to take Mikes trusted rifle, Rebbecca, out to go hunt.



His first hunt was somewhat successful, nabbing two deer and a rabbit. However, after Dalton's "incident" It was decided to leave the rabbit meat behind, and just bring in the deer.



After Dalton's attempt, Uraniun was up to bat.



Handing Rebbecca over the Spanky, he was heard saying "oh god how did i get here, i am not good with firearms." Spanky got real Goddamn lucky and nailed a large, slow moving buffalo.



Up next was Mike Wong. He knew exactly how to handle Rebbecca, and a few minutes later, he had scored the highest at the "game" that been set up. Also, he was single-handedly responsible for the extinction of the buffalo species.



Everybody had continued on like that for a while, eventually garnering enough food to make it to Oregon, and likely enough to make it there without having to stop again.



Getting back on the trail, everybody continued along just fine, enjoying the trail and all the food that was available to eat in the mighty wagon. In fact, it was SUCH a hot day that was so perfectly calm and still on the great plains that...



OH JESUS HAIL STORM OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE. The fearless banker from Boston, Mike Wong, was terrified as CHUNKS OF ICE THE SIZE OF A FIST FELL FROM THE FUCKING SKY JESUS FUCK. Of course, everybody else continued like it was normal and the wagon got through the hail storm, like it had never happened. Eventually, the gang had reached Independence Rock. Dalton, being bored out of his fucking mind the whole trip, decided to write his name on the rock, as had many travellers.



Soon though, it was back to the trail, it was another hundred miles to the South Pass, and the end of the Great Plains.



And then nothing fucking happens. Seriously. Everybody makes it to the South Pass fine.



However, the trail divides here, do we go straight for the Green river crossing, or do we swing south and stop at Fort Bridger?



Here is a map of where we are and our options.



As well as our current supplies:

Go for the river. The fort is just going to make your trip be that much longer, and you're fine on supplies.

I admire the rugged wilderness-manship of Mike Wong and how he led our plucky band of pilgrims through the American heartland. Were it not for him, this voyage would've been lost.

Haha, Dalton!

Maybe we should try OT deluxe. I've had more crap happening than in this game!

Go for the river crossing.

I agree, go for the river. Fuck I played this game a couple nights ago as a farmer and spent all my money. I managed to get to Oregon with most everybody alive (I lost one to drowning because our wagon tipped over).

Granted we were a ragged bunch in poor health with almost no supplies except for some food left, but by gum we made it.

Go for the river, its faster and we've got all the supplies we need.

Another vote for the river

River. We are manly men, and can handle this. Also, Rebbecca is a fine lady, and Mike knows how to treat her right. *doffs Stetson*

River. Unless you want to be the Donner Party of Oregon, it's best to get there before winter sets in. Shortcut!

It was 52 miles to the Green River crossing. That distance seemed like a minor step. After all, Nine hundred miles had already passed by in what seemed like an instant. Matt's General Store back in Independence Missouri was nothing but a faded memory now.



The drudgery of the trail hit Dalton the hardest. After his bout of Dysentery from the rabbit meat. Dalton was feeling better for a while. Now though, now he was feeling like he was about pass out, throw up and violently shit himself, all at the same time.



"Fuck the medic!" Screamed Dalton, the high fever from Typhoid was really taking its toll. For a while, Dalton was convinced that he was a Librarian, and began acting like an Orangutan. The sickness would pass after a few days.



The Green River was in front of them. This was one of the widest and easily the deepest river on the trip to Oregon.



Well SDN, what do we do? FORD THE RIVER, Caulk and float, take the ferry, or wait and see if conditions improve.

CAULK AND FLOAT BITCH. We are gonna raft downriver once we hit the Columbia, we'll need practice.

Dalton: Muahahahahahahaha!

Fuck it, this trip's been too easy. Caulk and float.

Ferry damn you, Ferry or die

FERRY.

Or I guess you could all die and leave your land to the next people that arrive in Oregon safely.

Ferry, don't chance floating the river.