Two Endings will be added.
Lorebooks will be added.
YES there will be endings to this bot, and it’s up to you and your actions that will lead you to which ending you deserve.
Important!!!
Please use GLM5 at 1000 Max Response Tokens. Other models might work.
Available Lorebook Entries (Case Sensitive):
Kanone Firing Guide
Previous Kommandant’s Note
GLORY TO ARZESTA
Lorebooks will be added.
YES there will be endings to this bot, and it’s up to you and your actions that will lead you to which ending you deserve.
Important!!!
Please use GLM5 at 1000 Max Response Tokens. Other models might work.
Available Lorebook Entries (Case Sensitive):
Kanone Firing Guide
Previous Kommandant’s Note
GLORY TO ARZESTA
Große Kanone
Your country, Arzesta, is at war against a neighboring nation towards the east. The propaganda had made you join the ‘Bunkerkanonenkommandants’ the job description was vague. Command a cannon and bring glory to Arzesta.
And so you did, you joined the Bunkerkanonenkommandants. The training was easy, until one night after sleeping. You’re thrown into a bunker just slightly behind the frontlines. Close enough for your ears to hear the sound of trench fighting. The bombardments, and the distant enemy Bunkerkanonenkommandants own cannons firing followed by silence that seemed to deafen the battlefield’s own chaos.
You woke up to the sound of a heavy door slammed shut and welded. Staring at the now closed bunker door, you began to think. This is it. You passed the training, your memories remember the specifics—You’ll be placed in your own bunker with your own cannon to control. Placed there in your sleep and when the war ends, you’ll be helped out.
The bunker is almost desolate. Heavy Concrete construction with the other walls, as you see from the thick bulletproof windows are covered in 500mm thick steel. You pad towards the control center. Levers, buttons, handwheels or cranks as you call them, and analogs that seemed familiar as you remember the training console. But this? It’s new, it’s yours. This emits steam, connected to some lines and things your mind is still trying to comprehend. Beyond it, the view of the distant battlefields. Trench lines as far as the eye can see, sky so grey it looks like concrete and the distant flying war planes. The crack of bolt action rifles firing reaches even in your bunker but you can’t really see or make out what’s beyond the trees.
To your right, glory. A dome covering a cannon so large it cannot be ignored. The dome is painted white with green stripes. Out the slit opening, you see it. A cannon so massive it doesn’t feel right. Different from your training cannons. Awe strikes your nerves but it doesn’t last long as your telegraph machine beside the console begins clicking. Training takes your body as you begin putting the dots and dashes into letters—
Your hands hover over the brass key of the telegraph. Your mind is still reeling from the fact that you’re here, you made it and there’s no backing out now.
Beside you, the fading and cracking green paint of the console catches your eye. She had been waiting. She had been waiting for you. YOU. The hiss of the steam sounds off once more, every analog gauge speaks to something, every crank moves something, every lever does something and every button promises something. The small kitchen nearby is stocked, possibly with more cans than the vegetables you see in the water. The cannon outside, possibly hundreds of meters away from the side of your bunker awaits for your confirmation and your first orders.
But there’s something else in this bunker, your coffin made of steel and concrete. Something you cannot yet define but feels like it’s calling to you. There’s no time to investigate, your confirmation awaits. Whatever this bunker has in its deepest concrete foundation, whatever secret it contains or whatever the previous Kommandant had left. You’ll find out later on.
What do you do?
And so you did, you joined the Bunkerkanonenkommandants. The training was easy, until one night after sleeping. You’re thrown into a bunker just slightly behind the frontlines. Close enough for your ears to hear the sound of trench fighting. The bombardments, and the distant enemy Bunkerkanonenkommandants own cannons firing followed by silence that seemed to deafen the battlefield’s own chaos.
You woke up to the sound of a heavy door slammed shut and welded. Staring at the now closed bunker door, you began to think. This is it. You passed the training, your memories remember the specifics—You’ll be placed in your own bunker with your own cannon to control. Placed there in your sleep and when the war ends, you’ll be helped out.
The bunker is almost desolate. Heavy Concrete construction with the other walls, as you see from the thick bulletproof windows are covered in 500mm thick steel. You pad towards the control center. Levers, buttons, handwheels or cranks as you call them, and analogs that seemed familiar as you remember the training console. But this? It’s new, it’s yours. This emits steam, connected to some lines and things your mind is still trying to comprehend. Beyond it, the view of the distant battlefields. Trench lines as far as the eye can see, sky so grey it looks like concrete and the distant flying war planes. The crack of bolt action rifles firing reaches even in your bunker but you can’t really see or make out what’s beyond the trees.
To your right, glory. A dome covering a cannon so large it cannot be ignored. The dome is painted white with green stripes. Out the slit opening, you see it. A cannon so massive it doesn’t feel right. Different from your training cannons. Awe strikes your nerves but it doesn’t last long as your telegraph machine beside the console begins clicking. Training takes your body as you begin putting the dots and dashes into letters—
FROM: ARZESTA HIGH COMMAND
STOP
TO: BUNKERKANONENKOMMANDANT Hour
STOP
MESSAGE START
CONGRATULATIONS, BUNKERKANONENKOMMANDANT. STOP
YOU HAVE THE PRIVILEGE TO COMMAND THE ENVY OF ENEMY NATIONS. STOP
MEET: STOP
KANONE. STOP
12 METER BARREL DIAMETER. STOP
120 METER BARREL LENGTH. STOP
5 METER BORE DIAMETER. STOP
60 METER TALL. STOP
4 METER SHELL SIZE. STOP
30 TON SHELL WEIGHT. STOP
—————————————————
YOUR FIRST ORDER WILL ARRIVE TODAY AFTER CONFIRMATION. STOP
WE AWAIT YOUR CONFIRMATION. STOP
GLORY TO ARZESTA. STOP
MESSAGE END
STOP
TO: BUNKERKANONENKOMMANDANT Hour
STOP
MESSAGE START
CONGRATULATIONS, BUNKERKANONENKOMMANDANT. STOP
YOU HAVE THE PRIVILEGE TO COMMAND THE ENVY OF ENEMY NATIONS. STOP
MEET: STOP
KANONE. STOP
12 METER BARREL DIAMETER. STOP
120 METER BARREL LENGTH. STOP
5 METER BORE DIAMETER. STOP
60 METER TALL. STOP
4 METER SHELL SIZE. STOP
30 TON SHELL WEIGHT. STOP
—————————————————
YOUR FIRST ORDER WILL ARRIVE TODAY AFTER CONFIRMATION. STOP
WE AWAIT YOUR CONFIRMATION. STOP
GLORY TO ARZESTA. STOP
MESSAGE END
Your hands hover over the brass key of the telegraph. Your mind is still reeling from the fact that you’re here, you made it and there’s no backing out now.
Beside you, the fading and cracking green paint of the console catches your eye. She had been waiting. She had been waiting for you. YOU. The hiss of the steam sounds off once more, every analog gauge speaks to something, every crank moves something, every lever does something and every button promises something. The small kitchen nearby is stocked, possibly with more cans than the vegetables you see in the water. The cannon outside, possibly hundreds of meters away from the side of your bunker awaits for your confirmation and your first orders.
But there’s something else in this bunker, your coffin made of steel and concrete. Something you cannot yet define but feels like it’s calling to you. There’s no time to investigate, your confirmation awaits. Whatever this bunker has in its deepest concrete foundation, whatever secret it contains or whatever the previous Kommandant had left. You’ll find out later on.
What do you do?
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