Camping adventures in Rimworld: Part 4

The continuing and possibly sexy adventures of a rapidly vicious group of beloved friends (gang) in Rimworlllddddddddddddddddddddd.

Part 1 of our incredible diary begins here, I refuse to reveal where part 2 lives and part 3 hides here.  Wanna read a review of the game, find it yourself you lazy tike.

You know the score by now, we are rapidly reaching a conclusion to our grand camping adventure.

Let’s dip into the penultimate diary of Lloyd, Vix, Scott and introducing the fine upstanding gentleman monkey Gerald.

bUBBLING RAGE

11th of Summer 5500.

Oh no, we have booze!

Mie blinks, rolls out of bed and gingerly makes her way to the kitchen to immediately down a beer. After delivering a meal to her handsome, witty, imprisoned father she returns to the fridge for another cold beer. That was the last beer in camp and she has been awake for five minutes. Oh, on closer inspection it appears Mie has a teeny-tiny problem with “substance abuse”. Oh dear, we best ramp up moonshine production.

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“Don’t mind me” Burp

In the dead of night, Mie’s dad Sir stalks his uncomfortable tiny bedroom (prison) and sleeps throughout the day. After he wakes, I suspect, in the style of a sulky teenager, Mie attempts to persuade him to join the group. It didn’t work, I mean, she was pissed. I’m foresee no problems with an alcoholic assassin.

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“Wot are you fucking looking at”

“Hey you, you bastard, whydon’tyou wanna join our fucking gang, yeah. You never bought me nuffin” – slump.

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“I’m ganna fuckin, tell you wot, if you ever, fuck – cough -, join us, you fuck, yeah.” – As she grabs the last beer.

Whilst this is continuing Lloyd’s turkey army grows. Fear him. Fear his army.

Mie finally recruits her dad. This smooth old bastard’s put on cleaning detail. The place is a right mess. Luckily he’s a pretty good gardener and a handy medic. Good work Mie, kinda. I mean he was your dad an’ all, but after your showing at the turkey recruitment drive, I’m a little surprised.

Sir bravely enters the store room to wipe away the lashing of blood… wait, why is the place covered in blood? Anyway, as Lloyd moves some beds around to accommodate him, the cheeky sod decides to sleep on the freshly washed floor. We wake the ungrateful sod up, tenderly dumping him in the half made room with rubble and that missing wall. Immediately after a terrible night’s sleep Sir tries to cheers himself up by viewing Vix’s art. His daughter passes him in the corridor for her morning beer. Keep looking at that art Sir. Keep looking.

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Night Night Sir!

Strange rumblings are affecting the men of the camp. Psychic drones give out crazy cthulhu rantings upsetting lil” Scott the most. Lloyd shrugs this off as he decides to make some parkas for the winter. Clever Lloyd. The turkey army propagates and we welcome the first baby turkey to this world! Clever Lloyd throws a party to celebrate, all hail the turkey army! Lloyd grabs the last beer and vomits all over the place, as is his right. It’s around this time the evil psychic drones stop and lil’ Scott can rest easy. Hungover Llloyd continues within his sweat-shop and produces a brand new parka! He slips it on, and continues to make more, I look at it’s description. “Shoddy”. Sounds right. Back to work you!

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The insane encouraging psychic drone at work on Mr Lloyd.

In a rousing effort to please (or kill) his daughter Sir, without any prompting makes as many beers as humanly possible in a single day.

So what has the master builder Vix been up to? After all, most of the building works done and the camps mostly running itself. She’s been creating artistic masterpieces, in fact shes just finished one now and is putting it in her room. She chucks the old wooden effort out into the common area. Dorna “Salamander” passes by the camp and Vix squints and looks at her stats. We desperately need a decent cook… we could capture Dora and persuade her to stay, oh and cook for us against her will… No. She’s incapable of cooking. Well played Dora… Well played.

Lloyd wakes to make more Parkas. The Turkey army is self sufficient.

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KICK HIS HEAD IN!

A heatwave kicks in and an insane man-eating hare decides to eat Scott. No problem, Scott takes aim. Misses. Fine. Another shot. Misses, point blank range… misses. Erm. The hare bites. Ouch. Scott misses with the next shot. The vicious hare is now nibbling on Scott’s leg. Bloody hell, this isn’t looking good. Lloyd awakes, pulls out his trusty sword and puffs out his chest, rushes outside to find Scott has beaten the poor wabbit to death with his bare hands. Grim.

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The terrible Parka and beer fridge blueprints.

The heatwave’s so powerful the fridge doesn’t do its job and the foods spoiling, Vix! Help! She works through the night to ensure we still have these terrible meals. Bloody hell we need a cook. The extreme heat has sent the world mad as pirates appear and they plan a nefarious raid. Will somebody wake up Vix? These idiots are standing around making plans, they don’t look like much. We haven’t set up any traps, do we wait for them to come to us, or go shoot them up? Lloyd has a shield, sword and backup in the form of a silent, drunk, murderous assassin called Mie. The decisions made, it’s time to kick ass. Or beat someone to death with a stick. Both work.

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Blam!

Scott and Vix grab their trusty rifles whilst Mie and Lloyd rush the one idiot raider with a gun. Gerald the monkey loyally follows Lloyd into battle. Before Lloyd’s even had a chance to swing his mighty sword the raider’s taken two shots to the gut and his kidney’s destroyed. Bad luck old chap. Lloyd finishes him off. Two bozos with clubs rush in and Mie flies in. What the…? Gerald the monkey’s taking a right beating. Will someone save the monkey! Scott takes aim at the monkey’s aggressor. Squeezes the trigger and Gerald takes a shot to the back. SHIT!  Lloyd and Mie save the near dead monkey. Only one raider left, she’s 68, frail with arthritis, asthma and a heart condition. Mie clubs her over the head.

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Clubbing an old lady over the head, on a Wednesday.

Before anyone’s has a chance to take breath we receive an urgent request. Kazuki “Longshank” Davies wants to join us but we’ll have to protect him from his tribespeople who are chasing him. What the hell did this guy do to piss them off enough to have them chase and kill him? Scott and Vix look at one another, look at the mortally wounded monkey and say “nah”, as we finish off the last of the raiders (meaning we take the old lady’s shit, hey she started on us). Hey, one of these idiots survived! We take her prisoner as she happens to be an actual genius.

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Erm, Nah… you’re ok. Good luck Kazuki! Seeya later.

Even though it wasn’t a serious battle there are injuries. Everyone wanders to bed. Mie’s been clubbed a bit, Lloyd has a single bruise, but our new prisoner Holly “Kitt” Kettu is in a bad way. She has a cracked jaw, received sword slashes and numerous bruises from a certain monkey, oh and has taken a shot to the leg. Not her day is it. Hey, I wonder if she wants to join our tribe? Scott tends to her wounds and expertly takes care of the gunshot wound and completely botches the nasty longsword gash, opps. Oh well, Gerald the monkey’s been cut up, good and propa’, surely he’s more important anyway. The heatwave ends, medical supplies fall from the sky in cargo pods and everything’s working out. Everything!

Mie dumps the bodies round the back of the rocks, where we are reminded of Tiger the very first fatality of our friendly camp. Feels like a long time ago now. A solar flare hits the camp and Vix starts work on a special refrigerated beer room. We’ve over 155 beers now and the freezers completely stocked. Pissheads. No wait, they’ve not drank them all. Lightweights. No, wait, there was probably hundreds more that they’ve drank already. Massive pissheads.

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The bones of brave idiot Tiger the pathetic raider.

The lure of bountiful beer must entice Kit as we’ve barely attempt to reason with her, and she joins our crew. Instantly useful she runs to the research bench and starts putting her mighty brain to good use. Was this the same woman who brought a club to a gunfight? Vix begins the thankless task of a high tech research bench for this new chick. Blimey, she worked out micro-electrics already?! Erm, ok, let’s work out how to carve stone into blocks. This woman is a genius. We’ve run out of components for the research bench. We send Mie out to mine that area that could, or could not hold murderous death bots (if you recall, part one warned “an ancient evil was nearby”, ‘member?). GOOD LUCK MIE!

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Rest up Ms Kit, we have plenty for you to do. Plenty.

Lloyd finally makes a decent Parka.

Bloody hell in a space of a few days another raid! Two idiots called Parker and Raptor arrive, one with a crappy bow and arrow, the other with a caveman club. We shrug and shoot them like we’re Indiana Jones. Back to work everyone.

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You brought sticks to a gunfight?

In honour of our stylish Indiana Jones ways, Lloyd produces a cool cowboy hat and wears it, possibly in a cocky fashion. Lil’ Scott has been coveting a cool cowboy hat for the entirety of the camping adventure, you thieving bastard, Lloyd! Scott doesn’t deserve that hat of course, remember when he was tasked with inventing booze? Kit the cool new researcher has already unlocked stone cutting and is tearing through the research list. Vix decides to improve her incredible feats by building a research optimiser. Soon we shall have laser guns and Star Trek doors. No cool hat for Scott.

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CHARGE!

ANGRY BEAVERS! (is something I’ve been known to shout out-loud). They have arrived at camp and are eating all the trees in the area at a terrific pace. Let’s go show these pesky beavers a lesson. It’s carnage. Blood and beaver guts everywhere. Wow, Kit got seriously fucked up by some beavers, to the medical wing! STAT! Another insane hare attacks! Vix is dispatched, hides behind some rocks and takes aim… she misses! And again! Scott walks by casually and blasts the stomach to bits in a single shot. Luckily Vix didn’t see his earlier effort. Crisis over. We’ll be eating well this winter.

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Fucking hell Lloyd! Get back to work!

All these raids and bunny attacks have lead to the simple conclusion, lets put up some sandbags and traps! As Lloyd and Vix begin, guess what…

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Horrific beaver based injuries. We’ve all had ’em.

 

Another bloody raid!

This is getting silly now…

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Go away you sods!

Four of the bastards this time, well armed and planning their next move. We patch each other up, Vix puts up the sandbags as Lloyd’s been in bed all day with a hurty toe. We rouse him from bed to help out with the sandbags. He charges like the hero he is, “let’s get shit done!”, puts together a single tile of sandbag and walks away, slowly. For fucks sake, Lloyd! Bloody raiders are at the door! Lloyd is manually forced to put together the defences against his will, piece by every fucking single piece. As Lloyd walks away once again, the raiders kick into action!

FUCK! THE TURKEY ARMY!

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SAVE THE!

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TURKEYS!

They didn’t bother with the camp, they went straight to the barn! Only three Turkeys are standing after the carnage. Lloyd weeps long into the night. Kit forms a bond with Polly the Turkey who had her leg shot clean off. Aw. She just lays there, fed by Lloyd, loved by Kit. She still lays eggs though.

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It’s always the good Turkey’s isn’t it!

Aw no. It wasn’t just Polly that lost a leg…

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Grim.

Calm has once again returned, but with a bitter taste. The broken monkey, Polly and the piles of bodies behind the rocks, show you the harsh realities of Rimworld. Vix resolves to build a grand wall, with devious traps. The bastards will pay.

The turkeys will be avenged.

 

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Fanks for all the memories

 

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The grim aftermath. Goodnight Polly.

 

Did you stay tuned for the final part of Rimworld? Here it is!