The 00th Regiment
The 00th Intergalactic Space Regiment is deeply rooted in galactic history as the most stalwart guardians of the Star Crown, defenders of countless space princess's honor and slayers of multiple amorphous Galaxy Gas Monsters, SNordwal SNrodsNorts and the dreaded Dutch.
Founded in the year of our Lord 4015AE by Overlord Thundersnow, known slayer of stampeding Bauerhorses and savior of Slucey Powergrip the Forgotten. The 00th Intergalactic Space Regiment was created and headquartered in Xuv Mountain on the fifth moon of Salsbury, aptly named “The Fifth Moon of Salsbury” in the Truckle Quadrant.
Tasked with guarding the Sacred Quintessence of Salsbury for all eternity, the 00th have proven time and again to be more than adequate defenders of the aforementioned object to which they were appointed to guard, of which was just mentioned to have been mentioned.
In a melon-heavy zero-plus gravity environment, the 00th practiced countless hours honing their fierce melee skills, soporific staring contests and witty repartee with great abandon. Members of the 00th are known galaxy wide as unequaled in their following of the Tact, honorable intentions towards beautiful young women, and a fondness for steamed dumplings with a side of tangy soy sauce.
In the year of our Lord 4025 AE, while patrolling the outer rim of Slammy Vux, Overlord Thundersnow and a large contingent of his personal guard entered unknowingly into a cloud of Ut, infecting everyone aboard the space slider with acute Space Madness. Veering wildly off course while massacring each other with lazer spice tongs and reciting Salsbury showtunes, the USS Ubiquitous fell into a randomized blackmatter re-dimensionalizer, which, as should be obvious by now to anyone reading, spit them out into this current reality. Coasting into this planet's gravitational field, the Ubiquitous went into a 4,000mph deadfall and eventually crashed into the ocean. It was really, really hot so there was a lot of steam. It was like “PSSssSSSssSST” with water shooting everywhere. It was pretty cool. One of those things where you kinda had to be there. What? Stop looking at me like that.
Those of the 00th who steamily emerged from the submerged wreckage and dragged their way onto the beach with their tattered seacapes and emergency steamed dumpling pouches were truly the best of the best, the creme de la crème, or as is known in your dimensions reality , “not bad”.
The 41st, lead by Lord Spearing, has ruled their territory with an iron fist for close to a thirty years. Overlooking their surroundings from atop Sheepwatch Tower, with the Zark Mountains as their backdrop, they practice their sharpshooting with razor-like efficiency on the local wolf population and protect their sheep herds from near and afar.
The 41st was originally sent through the dense mountain pass to flank an enemy position and secure a foothold in the coastline region, but upon seeing the vast stampeding herds of wild sheep rampaging over the rolling hills, the 41st knew they could never go back. Triggering a avalanche in the rocky pass, and sending the non-sheep loving members of the regiment (there were many, oddly) back to tell the high command that they were all destroyed, the Welshmen set up a minor fiefdom hidden in the mountain enclave surrounded by their beloved wool companions and frothy vodka for decades to come.
Utilizing the large boulders and fallen rocks along the rim of their small domain, and concocting a concrete mixture comprising of sand from the nearby beach, blood of nearby seagulls and excessive amounts of sheep saliva, they created Sheepwatch Tower and settled in to enjoy the fruits of their labor. And the sheep.
After 00th Planet Fall, when the last surviving members of the 00th emerged from the shark infested waters onto the beaches, they were greeted by the 41st Regiment of Foot. Lead by Lord Spearing, the 41st were the first to the scene, helping the 00th by dragging them off the beach, mending their shark bites and introducing them to their sheep, whom they had come to name, and dress in the finest fabrics and garments.
After a potentially dangerous situation was defused, involving a large 00th member picking up a sheep and taking a gigantic bite out of it as if it were a rice crisp, things calmed down, and Thundersnow presented Lord Spearing a plasma disruptor rifle as a gift. Unfortunately unaware of its gravity-cannon thought-attachment, the rifle kicked in Spearing's hand and the ensuing shockwave blasted Sheepwatch tower apart and cleared the mountain pass of rubble, revealing the skeletons of the messengers sent back to tell of their demise, who unfortunately were never given the command directly by Spearing, and having been stout veterans, stood in formation until the avalanche decades ago, they're upright remains still in a hauntingly straight line.
After much chortling and guffawing by the 00th, Lord Spearing offered Thundersnow an alliance, an alliance of historical proportions! It was an alliance to end all alliances, and was referred henceforth as "The Alliance". The pact was sealed on the sacred rubber parchment agreement sheet in sheep saliva and plasma excrement. That night there was a giant feast of grilled lamb and hearty mead drunk in vast quantities by both 00th and 41st alike amongst the rubble and ruins of Sheepwatch Tower. The firepits lit the valley with hundreds of dancing and rejoicing shadows, overjoyed in anticipation of the coming conquest of the planet. The 41st gave the 00th its hand in friendship and shared their line tactics, belongings, food and drink with them that night in celebration of the alliance.
The 00th repaid that kindness and friendship that evening after all were asleep by secretly injecting their hosts in the neck with giant rusty hypodermic needles containing a bio-plasma nerve-fusion goulash that sent the 41st into a two year coma as their bodies turned inside out and formed a bloody, fleshy cocoon. After the incubation process finalized, the newly formed 41st punched through their crusty self-imposed prisons as slightly stronger versions of themselves, and ready to conquer the planet alongside their new-found brothers, who decided not to stick around for two years and started without them quite some time ago. Carrying as many sheep as they could over their shoulders and around their necks, they re-dubbed themselves the 41st Intergalactic Zero-G Combat Regiment. Lord Spearing led his fellow Battle Brothers out through the pass and into the bright new world towards its new found destiny.
Meanwhile, two years prior, the 00th left Sheepwatch Valley and embarked on a rein of trepidation, causing wide-spread consternation and in many cases, deep rooted feelings of the 'creeps' across the realm, utilizing the "Thunder V" formation to great effect and confusion. Entire towns were burned to the ground, cattle rustled, the scorched earth was salted, peppered, and seasoned. There was a general "wtf'ing" by the remaining populous left alive in their wake.
Officer of the 00th Air Cav Division issuing orders on the battlefield.
The Lords of the land sent their best to no avil, but they held one last secret weapon, the 8th Kings Regiment of Foot. Lead by their fearless leader, Jorge, The 8th Kings Regiment is well known throughout the military community as hardened veterans, its line-crumbling volleys, and strict sense of iron fisted, draconian line drills, to the point of blood emerging from the skin pours of the unworthy, as it tries to escape the vessel that is causing it such agony.
However, Jorge was a prudent and diplomatic man as well, and so the Lords of the land sent him in hopes that a meaningful discussion would at least placate the raging 00th long enough to muster more forces. Traveling through the snowy landscape for weeks, the 8th finally came upon the 00th at Strategic Point, the highest hill in a ten mile radius. Both regiments circled the two leaders at the crest of the hill, as they shook hands and sat to discuss the current situation.
Jorge pointed out that the Lords of the realm would eventually crush the 00th under its massive weight, and that there was no point in continuing on without coming to a diplomatic solution. Thundersnow then presented Jorge with a set of Lazer Tongs. Jorge pointed out that while the 00th were unstoppable at the moment, surely the fallen could not be replaced and that each man was so integral to the overall campaign that soon the 00th would be whittled down to nothing. Thundersnow then presented Jorge with a demonstration of a six rank deep ripple Puckle formation. Jorge pointed out that while impressive, fancy formations and Lazer Tongs do not a regiment make. Thundersnow then presented Jorge to a startling fly-by demonstration of hover bikes in broken-wing formation as they screamed about the plains, dropping gravity grenades on targets from half a mile up. Jorge sighed, knew his way of life would never again be the same, shook Thundersnow's hand and on that day cemented an alliance with the 00th.
Thinking it would be better to ask this time, Thundersnow explained to Jorge the process of the injections given to the unwary 41st, and how it would slightly benefit the 8th's men, making them a little bit stronger, but at the cost of two years of their lives trapped helpless in a cocoon, and sacrificing precious time while the 00th would continue to roam the countryside. Jorge and his men, mouths agape in horror, thought about it for three seconds and decided against it, commenting that it would be wise to instead focus this time to combine forces and strike as one against the Lords of the land. Thundersnow agreed, and that night the firepits lit the landscape with dancing shadows of celebration, revelry and rejoicing. The 00th and the 8th shared wine, feasted heartily on smoked pigs on a spit and explained tactics together, and vowed friendship and allegiance on a contract made of sacred rubber parchment.
Later that night, while they slept, the 00th repaid that kindness and friendship to the 8th by secretly injecting each of them in the neck with giant rusty hypodermic needles containing a bio-plasma nerve-fusion goulash that sent the 8th into a two year coma as their bodies turned inside out and formed a bloody, fleshy cocoon. After the incubation process finalized, the newly formed 8th punched through their crusty self-imposed prisons as slightly stronger versions of themselves, and ready to conquer the planet alongside their new-found brothers, who decided not to stick around for two years and started without them quite some time ago.
As months rolled on, the 00th one day happened upon a battle. The 89th of Northern Europe were engaged in an overwhelming destruction of a small detachment of French skirmishers surrounded and trapped with their backs to a canyon wall. Witnessing the complete lopsidedness of the slaughter, Thundersnow felt a new sensation welling in his chest, one of compassion. It was an unusual feeling to have, and so to crush it completely he ordered the 00th to join the 89th in annihilating the remaining paltry French forces.
The leader of the Scandinavian regiment, MadViking, was appalled at this lack of honor and gamemanship. Members of the 89th repeatedly screamed at the 00th "Go away", "We got this, thanks anyway" and "Dudes, really?". After the last shot was fired, and the 00th finished dancing around the dead in a macabre ritual they called "The Reckoning", MadViking met Thudnersnow on the battlefield amidst the smoke, blood and corpses.
MadViking explained to Thundersnow that they were a British regiment, comprised of proud warriors hailing from the northern Scandinavia, such as Norway, Sweden and Denmark. He regaled the 00th with tales of epic battles it had fought against the French and the many glorious victories it secured over the years.
"Over there" he pointed towards a distant hill on the horizon "is where me and my men first got our taste of battle, on Cabbage Roll Hill" "And over yonder" he pointed to the Sickly Swamps of Sucky "there is where I lost half a company to malaria while chasing down our foes." "And who can forget the Battle of Battles, fought here on this very ground not ten years prior" he motioned to the blood soaked ground "Ah yes, we have a proud heritage and our hard work and valor is clearly evident by simply taking in the scenery around you."
Thundersnow marveled at MadVikings accomplishments and knowledge of history of the surrounding areas, and knew deep in his heart that the 89th would never join them, or even entertain the idea. Thundersnow thanked MadViking for his insight and marvelous stories, and bid him and the 89th farewell as they marched on into the sunset.
After sunset, they snuck back into the 89th camp and secretly injected each of them in the neck with giant rusty hypodermic needles containing a bio-plasma nerve-fusion goulash that sent the 89th into a two year coma as their bodies turned inside out and formed a bloody, fleshy cocoon. After the incubation process finalized, the newly formed 89th punched through their crusty self-imposed prisons as slightly stronger versions of themselves, and ready to conquer the planet alongside their new-found brothers, who decided not to stick around for two years and started without them quite some time ago.
Now, two years and a few months later, all the regiments have converged together to form a giant army, an army to conquer this planet, an army to inspire and awe, and army that promises no new taxes and a free flask of mead to every man woman and child in its conquered territories!
And then Mad Viking pretty much stopped playing Mount and Musket.
And Spearington and the 41st inexplicably changed their names to the 24th.
And then the ISC kinda went it's separate ways, all the while knowing deep in their hearts that they would always be brothers in arms.
And then Jorge and I decided to found the Top Secret Linebattle Organization, which has run two servers for two hours every Tuesday and Friday for the last 7 months for 400 people, basically out of our sheer love of the game, the people who play this game, and the hope that one day someone will, out of the kindness of their hearts, give the both of us one million dollars (after taxes) for being such passionate and loving people.
But I digress.
Killing time until they can reach their sunken story hook, the USS Ubiquitous, our valorous 00th regiment is content to practice their beliefs and wield their might whilst confined alongside these planet-locked primitives, recruiting the strongest and funniest among them to help them carry out their crusade of Freedom, Justice, and the eventual muting of mic hogs throughout the universe.
Are you one of these men?1)Do you possess tact? Meaning, for instance, will a child be able to accidentally stumble into our Teamspeak and be ushered out soon after without having acquired a thousand yard stare, shock white hair and a jaded outlook for the rest of his 70+ years on this planet because you just HAD to say something so brutally and emotionally incapacitating that no human being within 100 miles would even bother to drag your unconscious body out of oncoming traffic?
2)Are you looking for the TL;DR at the end of this post? Do you do that for every post longer than 3 sentences?
3)Are you mature for your age?
4)Do you have difficulty taking orders? Do you possess the ability to stand in place for up to 5 minutes without tearing your eyes out and blathering into your microphone about the current state of your genitalia?
5)Will you be super pissed when I eventually kick your sorry ass out of the guild for being an uncouth asshat?
6)Do you have the ability to not drag the rest of the regiment down with your crippling depression?
7)Did you get over that situation we talked about last week, the one where you said you were really down on your luck and started crying about how your girlfriend left you and moved out of the apartment you were sharing and went on and on for hours about how you gave her everything she ever wanted and that all she kept asking for was to just open up and talk about your feelings and emotions and that when you finally did open up she realized that she didn't real love you, she only loved the mystery of not knowing you and now that she saw the whole you the mystery was gone and she left and took all her furniture and my frozen corn dogs and said she just wanted to be friends, but you knew, you fuckin KNEW she would never want to be your friend, because she stopped answering my calls and pretended to not see my '911' texts every morning at 4:36am and then she told her mother to stop taking my late night skypes because I would just sob for hours and hours asking where I went wrong with her daughter and what could I do to make her come back, and eventually asking her to go out with me on a date because she was so understanding, so much more understanding then her perfect daughter who doesn't like me anymore but they share the same hair and look kind of alike in the right light and
8)Are you frequently the target of malicious “lies” and “mistaken identity” claims, blaming you for heartless, cold-blooded acts of racism, teamkilling and/or remorseless douchbaggery on a global scale?
9)Are you already planning on taking over my regiment?
10)The second you join, are you expecting a promotion to Second-In-Command?
If you answered “Pineapple” to any of the above questions, you may have a mental condition. You should go to the nearest hospital and ask them for their electro-shock therapy package.
If you answered “There is no way in hell I'd join this regiment” to any of the above questions, you may have the stuff it takes to become a member of the 00th. The stuff of legends. Epic stuff. Legendary stuff, that's what you might have. I'd get that checked out immediately, prevention is 90% of the cure.
00th Rules- Tact!
- Know What Tact Means! Go Look It Up If You Don't Know!
- Never Surrender!
- Honor Above All Else!
- Never Go Back For The Wounded They Only Slow Down Forward Progress!
- Get Teamspeak and a mic. You don't need to talk, but you are required to be able to hear orders.
The 00th Regiment will have a long, extended recruitment stage, during which you may be dismissed for no good reason or satisfactory explanation. Such is life. Deal with it. This isn't your softball league where everyone gets to swing and everyone wins and everyone gets the same goddamn trophy at the end of the season.
The 00th Regiment does not abide racism.
The 00th Regiment does not abide discussion of religion.
The 00th Regiment does not abide discussion of politics.
The 00th Regiment does not abide whining. If your voice should change an octave while complaining, you will be accused of whining. Specialized sound equipment is already in place to monitor any abnormalities so there is no confusion. If you are going through puberty special provisions will be set in place.
The 00th Regiment does not abide any heated argument lasting over 20 minutes. After which, the argument is considered *Thunderlocked* and may not be argued further until 24 hours have passed. If one of the participants states after that time “Dude I just don't wanna argue about this anymore, its depressing me just shut up.” the other participant/participants are quietly declared the victors in a small ceremony with a full contingent of musicians and color guard, on the map and location of their choosing, with said spot forevermore declared “[Victor's Name] Crossing” or “[Victor's Name] Way” or “[Victor's Name] Hill”. Or whatever, man. Just get over it already.
The 00th Regiment reserves the right to dismiss any current member at any time, providing it is in a spectacular and dramatic fashion, reminiscent of some angst ridden teens' daydream vision of something bullshit and totally unfair. After which the dismissed is told to give his final words to his long time friends, only to be perma-banned from the teamspeak server after he utters his first sylable. This memorable scenario will be known as a *Thundershow* and will be required to be spoken of in hushed tones during a twelve hour long 'Rememberance' on the 4th of every third month of said occurrence, as recorded by the high ranking taker of such sad, awe inspiring events, known as the 'Tracker of Tears' whose other responsibilities include, but are not limited to, casually following the career of the dismissed while incognito in the following months, bringing up his name randomly in carefree approach as to “wondering what he was up to now?”, and “heard he joined your regiment, how's he workin out?”and collecting all the horrible kinds of shit talking being said by said dismissed, so that these utterances may be cataloged and retold during the tri-monthly Rememberances, and there will be much dancing and rejoicing.
Re-application is allowed following the 3 month Rememberance jubilation celebrating your jerkiness. If, after being mocked and ridiculed, your reapplication is accepted, the event will hence be known as a *Thunderblunder* and never spoken of again.
The 00th Regiment does not abide discussion of what the 00th does not abide to.
Ideally, the 00th Regiment will be a small regiment, eventually spanning across other gaming spectrums, keeping a friendly core group of mature gamers who won't crap all over the furniture, or have a stroke because someone hasn't shown up for two weeks or some other stupid petty argument and demand that Jar Jar Binks be appointed as the entire planets representative to call for a vote of no-confidence and throw the entire universe into disarray forever. Seriously. Jar Jar Binks. Think about that. While you and your small band are running around saving the universe, you couldn't hand this guy a yoda sized lightsaber for fear he might accidentally slice open his own throat within 5 seconds, and he's the guy these geniuses appoint to represent them and their entire planet. Kick that one around in your skull for awhile.
I am launching the 00th Regiment here in the Mount and Musket community because frankly I am addicted to the game and was kind of hoping someone would step in and do an intervention with all my friends sitting around in a circle in comfy couches and big leather chairs with cameras rolling and I'd start bleating like a goat when things got real emotional. But I digress.
Eventually there will be a fancy website, forum, steamed dumplings, etc. For now I am collecting cannon fodd...err, recruits to eventually wade into the bloody wheat that is Mount and Musket within the next few weeks.
If you are interested in joining the 00th Regiment, please post your intentions, and either message me here and include your original Steam account name so I can contact you, or email me with your original Steam account name and a few words about yourself, and I will contact you.
Check us out on Youtube!!!
We have dozens of videos now, with more added every day!
Steam Name: 00th_Thundersnow
We allow drop-ins as well, so people on the fence about joining can see for themselves if the 00th is a good fit.
Happy Hunting and see you on the battlefield!