Othaglot and Cane - Story Thread

[dogscoff]

After looking at the source I'd say the first thing you have to do is provide proper references for the source files. ../general_functions.js is not gonna cut it with any decent security model. Give the full http: URL for the files. I still can't even load your fancy menu in Mozilla and I suspect that's why. Once I can actually load it we'll see if it works.

If that's all it turns out to be I'll be well pissed off. Thanks for the advice though, I'll try it.

That's a bit crappy if it won't accept relative addresses- it will make code a hell of a lot less flexible and portable.

It will also require me making changes to over 150 files...

EDIT: Changed a few files (menu, first 6 chapters of )&C) and uploaded them- see if that makes a difference

[ May 27, 2004, 15:08: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

I think that relative addresses will work inside the JS code. Where I don't think they work is in the HTML that tells the browser where to get the source. That's what I meant -- the source for the frames themselves. Why does the sci_fi.js file still have no URL reference? It's just a bald file name.

Edit:
BTW, the errors I got on the early Version with IE were 'permission' related. So that makes me think that your remaining problems could be with the stricter security of browsers like Mozilla.

[ May 27, 2004, 16:54: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Originally posted by Baron Munchausen:
I think that relative addresses will work inside the JS code.

Heh... that's one of the few places I *have* used full paths.

Where I don't think they work is in the HTML that tells the browser where to get the source. That's what I meant -- the source for the frames themselves. Why does the sci_fi.js file still have no URL reference? It's just a bald file name.

Well... because it's in the same directory. I don't have to include full paths for every single .gif file I reference do I?

Edit:
BTW, the errors I got on the early Version with IE were 'permission' related. So that makes me think that your remaining problems could be with the stricter security of browsers like Mozilla.

OK, well at least that gives me another angle of attack to this problem. Take the timestamp of this post and add ten minutes, and from then there will be a new Version to test. Thanks for all your help so far.

[dogscoff]

Just had a thought... Does the Quote-o-matic work for you? I thought it did. It does in Opera anyway, which refuses the menus.

That uses the same javascript files as everything else, so if that works, the problem can't be that the files aren't getting read...

[dogscoff]

OK, big leap forward, with the help of Opera's javascript console. The problem (as far as opera is concerned anyway) was that I was using

code:

---

createElement("<A>")

---

instead of

code:

---

createElement("A")

---

IE managed to work around this, but Opera lacked the imagination. Opera is now working fine. Does this improve matters with Mozilla etc?

[ May 28, 2004, 10:02: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

Well, since the result hasn't changed here I would assume the reference thing wasn't the problem for Mozilla. But in the Mozilla Javascript Console (which I just discovered in the Last week or so) I'm getting a 'syntax error' for each js file. It seems to be some sort of 'comment' at the beginning of the file rather than the code.

< !DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//IETF//DTD HTML 2.0//EN">

Is that the JS file or some other file on your server? When I click on it and get the details it looks like a 404 error page, because it says "The requested URL /fiction/general_functions.js was not found on this server." Weird.

Edit: What is especially weird is that I can load those files in seperate windows. No '404' error when you go for them directly. It looks like the problem might be something to do with the frames.

[ May 28, 2004, 15:26: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[Baron Munchausen]

Hrm...

Now I look at the source for the Quote-o-matic frame.

code:

---

< script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript" SRC="../../extern.js">< /script>

< script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript" SRC="../sci_fi.js">< /script>

< script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript" SRC="../../general_functions.js">< /script>

---

Why the double ../ thing? It seems to work, though, while the direct reference does not...

Edit:
Another possibility is that body tag containing an 'onload' statement. Could you move the 'onload' statement to a seperate tag, maybe even after the script references?

[ May 28, 2004, 15:38: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Why the double ../ thing? It seems to work, though, while the direct reference does not...

because some of the .js files are in my webspace's root directory, and others are in root/fiction. THis is deliberate, becasue I thought I might one day use general_functions in other areas of my website.

That means that to reference them from a subdirectory of fiction (ie root/fition/stories) you have to use either ../ to go up one level or ../../ to go up two levels. It works.

Another possibility is that body tag containing an 'onload' statement. Could you move the 'onload' statement to a seperate tag, maybe even after the script references?

I'm pretty sure this is how javascript is supposed to work, in all browers.

Well, since the result hasn't changed here I would assume the reference thing wasn't the problem for Mozilla.

No, i really don't think it is. Like I say, changing this createElement commands fixed it in Opera. Please try again, and make sure you hit refresh so you're not looking at a Cached Version.

!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//IETF//DTD HTML 2.0//EN">

This doesn't appear in any of my files, it's added by the browser to identify the various Versions of Languages, protocols and things being used.

"The requested URL /fiction/general_functions.js was not found on this server." Weird.

Try www.dogscoff.co.uk/general_functions.js instead of www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/general_functions.js

Thanks for your help with the testing BTW Baron. I really ought to name you a character, I think a Munchausen would fit quite nicely into one of the Courier stories...

***********************

Anyway, in order to celebrate my triumphant victory over Opera (if not Mozilla) I have decided to post here chapter 30. Also because I can't be arsed to mark it up and upload it to my site=-)
This still might be subject to a little tweaking, but i don't think it will change much between now and chapter 31 (which is at least half-finsihed, btw.)

Chapter 30
A tide of crimson ran across the surface of the slab and poured down the irregular sides, striping the stone platform as blood filled familiar channels in the uneven floor. The twitching carcass was held aloft to the cheering of the crowd as the priest offered prayers to Odin and Heimdall, and then passed back to the roasting spit and behind me somewhere a deep, throbbing drum began an urgent rhythm. It occured to me that I hadn't read of any such ritual in the ancient norse cults, but the hooting, hollering people all around me didn't seem to care much for historical accuracy. For what it was worth, neither did I.

I was drunk again.

Then again, it was my party in a way, so I felt I was justified. I threaded my way to the back of the semi-circular audience, shouting greetings to everyone I saw. Eventually Bern, a great hairy heap of a man I had spent the day working with, broke free from a group of revellers and stood before me, grinning. With exageratted, Earthly courtesy he bowed and asked me to dance. I decided to give it a try. Following Bern's example, I jumped up and down, flailing limbs randomly. I had to admit to a certain feeling of liberation, and Bern certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. I decided that he deserved it, having worked ceaselessly all day with his crew. He grinned at me once more, and a quick look into his booze-fuzzy mind showed me that he had some kind of romantic interest in me. He wasn't the first, and I wondered just why that should be. Obviously I was playing my role as a female very effectively, but it seemed odd to me that these humans could take such an attitude to someone so obviously alien in form. Perhaps human relationships are more emotional and intellectual than physical, making them more ready to ignore the biological divide. Perhaps curiosity was the underlying motivation. Bern winked at me through the bruise I had inflicted a week previously on his left eye. Perhaps the heavy intoxicants, hot weather and unbalanced gender ratio on this isolated clump of land had scrambled his simple brains beyond all reason.

I decided to stop worrying about it, it kept me in free drinks, and I confess to having developed quite a partiality for a mug of something cold at the end of a day's work. I caught Bern's attention with my left eye and looked down at my empty beer-mug with my right. He caught the hint eventually and trotted off to fetch me a refill. Within hours of arriving here nineteen days ago I had learned that this simple, macho culture appreciated strong, assertive women. The meek were either almost entirely disregarded and often mistreated, but anyone willing to earn respect through hard work and combat would assuredly earn it. I had no problems living up to this expectation, and several of my friends and admirers here sported minor injuries to prove it.
"Great party, Faf, thanks" called Danger, one of the project's technical instructors.
"It's not my party," I returned, "it's Hammer's." But he wasn't stupid. He just laughed and returned to his conversation, mead sloshing from his brimming mug to his boots.

The drumming stopped abruptly, and the dancing with it as everyone turned back to the centre of the stone circle. Tor Hammer was across the platform, carefully disguising his distaste as he splashed through the sacrificial puddle. He had picked the hour when the setting sun shone between the stones and directly onto the great central slab, making the animal blood look deep and rich like an exotic fabric draped over the altar. Apparently the stone circle had been erected by some other retro-cult: pagans or druids or something, who had later abandoned the island for reasons of their own. The Vikings had moved in some years later, and Hammer seemed to have no qualms about using the trappings of another cult to entertain his own.

In contrast to when I had first met him, he now wore full viking garb. I couldn't be sure with the cheap translator I now used but I think he also modified his accent and language, pitching it down to a level more readily accepted by his followers. The man was a fraud, and I disliked him intensely for it.
"Vikings!" He shouted, raising his arms for the inevitable cheer. "This is a great day!" He smiled and laughed as the cheering continued, then eyed the crowd for silence. "This is a great day." He repeated, this time toning down the triumphant edge tha twould have illicitted another cheer. "Today we have passed a major milestone on the road to Asgard, and tonight we celebrate!" More cheering, but inwardly I just chuckled. There was no milestone, the whole party had been invented just to boost morale. It hadn't been my idea- I had sensed the despondancy among the island's occupants and stolen the brainwave for a party from one of the security staff, presenting it to Hammer as my own. A cheap trick I know, but my life depended on maintaining his goodwill. So far it seemed to be going well. Someone at the back of the crowd threw a full mug over the sea of heads in celebration, and soon the air was thick with riotous laughter and the sound of projectile beermugs clanging off of helmets.

Hammer continued to smile passively at the spectacle, but I sensed deep impatience behind the placid facade. Eventually the laughter died down again and attention was focussed on the man at the altar once more. "Soon, the dream we have dreamed for so many long years will become reality. History will remember us as the parents of a new way, the Way of the Warrior brought to life!" Once again, I sensed insincerity. Details of Hammer's true background and distinctly un-warriorlike nature were carefully hidden from the vikings that followed him, who probably wouldn't have identified with his well educated, middle-class roots. Instead he maintained an eleborate history of working man made good, carefully calculated to appeal to the broadest possible demographic within the organisation. It amazed me that such a blatant lie could persist so long in this informed day and age, but his followers were precisely the kind of people who wouldn't bother to snoop into another man's personal history. The Viking culture was centred around story-telling, trust and honour. Once you were accepted you could get away with almost anything, as I was discovering myself.
I listened to him carry on in this vein for a half-minute or so, placing great emphasis on words like dignity, honour, courage and freedom, all the while noting that his emotions failed to live up to the enthusiasm of his words. He kept it short, however, well aware that his audience only had a limited patience for speeches, and soon the party was underway again.
Once he'd finished talking he caught my eye and held it significantly. He wanted to talk to me.

I straightened myself and tried to shake off some of the intoxication, reluctantly refusing the mead Bern had just returned with. Obviously I couldn't afford to fall out of favour with Hammer, but sometimes- particularly when I had been drinking- I resented the obedience I showed him and the ease with which that obedience came. He certainly possessed a naturally autocratic air, but I think the years of commands and discipline within Frontier Order made me crave authority: I had certainly felt lost since leaving the commonwealth and being cut off from my chain of command.

Now, however, I was back inside a structure, and I admit to feeling almost at home there. Technically, I was Hammer's second in command. At first I had been surprised at the level of trust he was prepared to invest in me, but it soon became clear that he had little choice. In spirit he was a no more a viking that I was, and he desperately wanted to avoid any kind of personal contact with his viking followers, for fear that they would see through his disguises and expose his true nature, which would almost certainly cost him his leadership. Using my psychic skills and supposed experience of the Viking Way, he therefore wanted me to be his interface between the clan and its leader, mingling with them, learning about their needs, wants and worries, and informing him so that he could adapt his image and policies accordingly and present himself as the perfect leader. Similarly, I had to communicate in the other direction, interpretting his ambitions into instructions and guidance that would be readily accepted by his followers.

Olric had done this job for several years, but Olric had been an idealist- something no-one could ever accuse Hammer of- and inevitably there had been a disagreement. About a year ago Hammer had arrogantly decided that he didn't need him after all, and sent him on the mission to steal the armour designs on Earth, and then the other technology from the Outlier where he had met his untimely end. Hammer admitted to me more than once that sending Olric away had been his greatest mistake. He hadn't particularly like him, but they had worked well together and he had soon realised how much he was needed. Things started to slide and he soon felt himself losing his grip on the clan, so naturally he tried to find a replacement. He had taken on a woman named Brynhilde, but she only Lasted around six months before she 'retired'.

Apart from his lack of any real connection to his followers, Hammer's other great failing was his paranioa, although in many ways it was well-justified. This project had been his idea. He had provided the funding, the organisation and the political contacts needed to make it work. However at this late stage he was practically redundant, and it would soon reach the point where almost anyone with decent administrative skills could pick it up. He was scared that someone would realise this and decide to replace him. Of course, if he had known the people who served him, he would have known that the kind of arbitrary betrayal he personally specialised in was completely contrary to their nature, but I suppose it was entirely possible that Olric's replacement had really been trying to take over the operation. After all, Hammer would necessarily had to have taken on another 'true' viking like Olric- who would soon grown to know and despise the man behind the facade- or a callous, ambitious cycnic like the one I was impersonating, who would have slit his throat as soon as it became convenient. I don't know which Category this Brynhilde had fallen into, but by all accounts she simply disappeared one day a few months ago.

Since then Hammer had been running the clan on his own, and it showed. In that time his own self-importance and the extreme secrecy that was a product of his paranoia had distanced himself further and further from his followers, and he had tried to compensate with brutal and oppressive management. Morale had hit an all time low and his worries of a rebellion had started to look like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Hammer had been getting desperate, and it seems I had dropped into his life at just the right moment to land in the ill-fated boots once worn by headless Olric and the vanished Brynhilde.

Of course, had he known the real me, he'd have known that I was about the Last person anyone could possibly hope to pick for such a role. It had therefore been an enormous surprise and relief that I was actually very good at it. I had spent at least a day with each and every work crew and training team, talking to the clan members, mapping their minds and getting a real insight into their mentality. What's more, I had enjoyed it. At first, it had just felt good to work again. Ever since leaving the Commonwealth I had been more or less at a loose end, and simply killing time was completely against my nature. Therefore I found even the hard, manual labour and training critical to project Asgard to be satisfying experiences. My enthusiasm gained me respect from my comrades, and soon I found myself appreciating their friendship as well as their dogged endurance and enthusiasm for their work. It was customary to sink a few pints at the end of the day and before long I began to enjoy this as well.

That's why I was experiencing a wide variety of conflicting emotions as I made my way through the crowd towards the altar. First among them though, was fear. Today had been the day, the day he was supposed to take delivery of the stolen technology I didn't have and he badly wanted. I knew I would have to talk quickly, or he would be looking for yet another replacement.

[ May 28, 2004, 23:40: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

Just downloaded both Mozilla 1.6 and firefox 0.8. There is some graphical wierdness on the left-hand menu in both browsers (which I can explain but not yet fix- result of lazy coding, basically), but everything else works perfectly.

So, just to recap:
IE 6: Works perfectly.
Opera 7: Works perfectly.
Mozilla 1.6: Works well enough, some graphical wierdness.
Firefox 0.8: Works well enough, some graphical wierdness.
Netscape: Dunno, but I'm hopeful...
IE on Mac: Dunno, it wasn't working Last week but I'm hopeful now.
Lynx: Not bloody likely.

*dogscoff feels smug.

[Suicide Junkie]

I've started getting run time errors under IE...
All I can see are the random quotes, and the story links are cut off.
Line 113: Object dosen't support this property or method

With Mozilla, the story links are there, but they just change the random quote instead of bringing up the story .