Dudley's dungeon

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Friday, 25 March, 2005 by Irashtar
                    
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You enter an opulent throneMethought I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone
Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
"Thou art our king,
O Death! to thee we groan."
Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave
Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one
Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
        [ Sonnet, by William Wordsworth ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. room!
@ "Oh goody!" 
                    
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@ "Grumble. No good chestDantes rapidly cleared away the earth around the chest. Soon
the center lock appeared, then the handles at each end, all
delicately wrought in the manner of that period when art made
precious even the basest of metals. He took the chest by the
two handles and tried to lift it, but it was impossible. He
tried to open it; it was locked. He inserted the sharp end
of his pickaxe between the chest and the lid and pushed down
on the handle. The lid creaked, then flew open.
Dantes was seized with a sort of giddy fever. He cocked his
gun and placed it beside him. The he closed his eyes like a
child, opened them and stood dumbfounded.
The chest was divided into three compartments. In the first
were shining gold coins. In the second, unpolished gold
ingots packed in orderly stacks. From the third compartment,
which was half full, Dantes picked up handfuls of diamonds,
pearls and rubies. As they fell through his fingers in a
glittering cascade, they gave forth the sound of hail beating
against the windowpanes.
        [ The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. goodies!" 
                    
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#sit
A voice echoes: "By thy Imperious order, Sire..."
@ "Hm, Babelfish?" 
                    
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No such creature exists in this realm. 
                    
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@ "I wonder what that tells about the existince of CromWarily Conan scanned his surroundings, all of his senses alert
for signs of possible danger. Off in the distance, he could
see the familiar shapes of the Camp of the Duali tribe.
Suddenly, the hairs on his neck stand on end as he detects the
aura of evil magic in the air. Without thought, he readies
his weapon, and mutters under his breath:
"By Crom, there will be blood spilt today."

[ Conan the Avenger by Robert E. Howard, Bjorn Nyberg, and
L. Sprague de Camp ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details.?" 
                    
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No such creature exists in this realm.
@ "SHUT UP stupid throneMethought I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone
Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
"Thou art our king,
O Death! to thee we groan."
Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave
Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one
Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
        [ Sonnet, by William Wordsworth ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details.!" 
                    
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Wiped out all thrones.
The throneMethought I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone
Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
"Thou art our king,
O Death! to thee we groan."
Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave
Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one
Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
        [ Sonnet, by William Wordsworth ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. vanishes in a puff of logic! 
                    
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@ "If it did exist, it would prove he existed, proving he doesn't. If it doesn't..." 
    ------------    
   /  REST IN   \   
  /    PEACE     \  
 /                \ 
 |     Dudley     | 
 |    killed by   | 
 | overthinking a | 
 |    paradox     | 
 /\\_/(\/(/\)\//\/|
http://dudley.nicolaas.net

http://dudley.nicolaas.net
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Rating

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Average rating: Excellent
Number of ratings: 7

Comments

Zeddi March 25, 2005 02:52
First comment: 5 June, 2004 80 comments written
Thus is more than philosophic... more than... omg... i got to think about this. Wow... awesome. Does he exist?
Zeddi March 25, 2005 02:55
First comment: 5 June, 2004 80 comments written
Do I exist? Something about this? I am to drunken to realy got an answer. but... omg. If i think about it. Let's sacrifice some humanThese strange creatures live mostly on the surface of the
earth, gathering together in societies of various forms, but
occasionally a stray will descend into the depths and commit
mayhem among the dungeon residents who, naturally, often
resent the intrusion of such beasts. They are capable of
using weapons and magic, and it is even rumored that the
Wizard of Yendor is a member of this species.

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. beings... or some rabits; or some fishs; or perhaps some rubbers... omg
Horald March 25, 2005 04:25
First comment: 25 March, 2005 1 comments written
Your site was on www.portalofevil.com.
I don't think it's evil.
Anyways, good show old chap.
Violist March 25, 2005 05:53
First comment: 25 June, 2004 206 comments written
Irashtar: that was... intense :)
L March 25, 2005 12:36
First comment: 10 February, 2005 285 comments written
Can't beat Hitchhiker's Guide"Rincewind!"
Twoflower sprang off the bed. The wizard jumped back,
wrenching his features into a smile.
"My dear chap, right on time! We'll just have lunch, and
then I'm sure you've got a wonderful programme lined up for
this afternoon!"
"Er --"
"That's great!"
Rincewind took a deep breath. "Look," he said desperately,
"let's eat somewhere else. There's been a bit of a fight
down below."
"A tavern brawl? Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Well, you see, I - _what_?"
"I thought I made myself clear this morning, Rincewind. I
want to see genuine Morporkian life - the slave market, the
Whore Pits, the Temple of Small Gods, the Beggar's Guild...
and a genuine tavern brawl." A faint note of suspicion
entered Twoflower's voice. "You _do_ have them, don't you?
You know, people swinging on chandeliers, swordfights over
the table, the sort of thing Hrun the Barbarian and the
Weasel are always getting involved in. You know --
_excitement_."
        [ The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. references. Especially since "the throneMethought I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone
Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
"Thou art our king,
O Death! to thee we groan."
Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave
Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one
Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
        [ Sonnet, by William Wordsworth ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. vanishes in a puff of logic" is in itself a Hitchhiker's Guide"Rincewind!"
Twoflower sprang off the bed. The wizard jumped back,
wrenching his features into a smile.
"My dear chap, right on time! We'll just have lunch, and
then I'm sure you've got a wonderful programme lined up for
this afternoon!"
"Er --"
"That's great!"
Rincewind took a deep breath. "Look," he said desperately,
"let's eat somewhere else. There's been a bit of a fight
down below."
"A tavern brawl? Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Well, you see, I - _what_?"
"I thought I made myself clear this morning, Rincewind. I
want to see genuine Morporkian life - the slave market, the
Whore Pits, the Temple of Small Gods, the Beggar's Guild...
and a genuine tavern brawl." A faint note of suspicion
entered Twoflower's voice. "You _do_ have them, don't you?
You know, people swinging on chandeliers, swordfights over
the table, the sort of thing Hrun the Barbarian and the
Weasel are always getting involved in. You know --
_excitement_."
        [ The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. reference.
Irashtar March 26, 2005 16:25
First comment: 17 February, 2005 19 comments written
YAY! First throneMethought I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
With sights the ruefullest that flesh and bone
Ever put on; a miserable crowd,
Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud,
"Thou art our king,
O Death! to thee we groan."
Those steps I clomb; the mists before me gave
Smooth way; and I beheld the face of one
Sleeping alone within a mossy cave,
With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have
Pleasing remembrance of a thought foregone;
A lovely Beauty in a summer grave!
        [ Sonnet, by William Wordsworth ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details. comic! ^^
ihope May 12, 2005 17:49
First comment: 20 April, 2005 67 comments written
I may be able to prove that you don't exist, Zeddi.
Fathead May 2, 2006 02:35
First comment: 1 April, 2006 1136 comments written
So stupid it's funny.
Grognor April 12, 2007 05:19
First comment: 4 April, 2007 1161 comments written
It's not stupid at all. In fact, the Quantum implications of having thrones wipe out all thrones which would have had to have existed to be wiped out in order to BOOM

Grognor has exploded.
  March 12, 2008 23:02
First comment: 1 April, 2004 431 comments written
Good thing I was wearing a vinyl sheet.
Melnor the Mad March 12, 2008 23:03
First comment: 19 February, 2008 23 comments written
Good thing I was wearing a vinyl sheet.
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