Monday, November 15, 2010

Fort Armorstabbed- Fourth year

[Excerpt from several pages of a journal found at an abandoned camp found near the corpses of an Elven scouting party.]

10th Obsidian


About two years back now, the old brewer left for some reason. The new guy is producing this awful weak booze. It's a chore just to drink it. I swear he's putting water in it. If I find out he is, there'll be hell to pay.

11th Obsidian


I had to sell my good axe today to pay for more booze. Not making ends meet now. All the best dwarves have left. I suppose I'd better go soon too. The Mountainhome doesn't need the business, they've got the proper military types to do everything for 'em. I'll see if I can scout out a prospective job, maybe somewhere dangerous. That's where business is best.

15th Obsidian

Think I've found the right place. I overheard one of the merchants talking about a little place called Armorstabbed (lovely name) that they'd been to. If the caravan guards hadn't been there, goblins would have killed everyone. Sounds like I could sort out the troubles and make myself enough money to come back and relax here... maybe by that point, someone halfway competent will be running the still. I asked the merchant for directions and I'm setting off tomorrow. Fortune, here I come!

[excerpt ends]

Lost my old journal somewhere in that unfortunate scuffle, I think. But fortune favoured me once again when I found that one of them had been keeping a blank book in his backpack. Lucky me. I wish I could have thanked those Elves properly.

Well, I finally made it to Armorstabbed and by Armok this is bad. The merchants weren't joking when they said this place was poorly defended. Finding the approximate location wasn't too hard. I spent a couple hours milling around the trade depot waiting to see someone who could tell me where the entrance is, only to find that the entrance was a HOLE IN THE GROUND. That's right, whoever built this place had cut a hole in the earth and worked from there. I thought it had been some sort of above-ground storehouse next to the depot. I wouldn't know because I'm not by nature a trading person. Had to step over a dead goblin to get inside. I admire the intimidation factor, but the least they could have done was move it aside, stick it on a spike or something. Also, there was a dead dwarf just lying outside. Don't know what that's about. Presumably a casualty from the goblin attack.

Then I stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was that there was far too many cats all over the place. There were larger problems, though. After I'd dealt with the kittens, I noticed that I'd walked right into the main work hall. Having seen this place, profit is not my sole motivation anymore. I just don't want to see a fort with this many people completely destroyed. I asked the nearest dwarf if he knew who was in charge. He looked at me blankly for a while. Turns out the last person stepped down.

I've really got my work cut out for me. Still, it allowed me to deal with an annoying issue summarily...

(Note: There was screaming and shouting coming from a walled-off area next to the entrance. None of the dwarves wanted to talk about it, and it seemed to get them a bit emotional when I mentioned it. Oh well, as long as whatever is in there stays in there, I suppose it's none of my business. There's some blood on the wall. Don't know why.)

-------

The walls outside look to be unfinished fortifications. It's a good start. I cancelled the weird spidery mine plans and ordered the wall completed.


Once that was done, I asked for military records. Would you believe that in a fortress with a working population of 49 and 9 freeloaders(nobles and children), there are only two soldiers? Unbelievable. I was, however, surprised to find a familiar name. The old brewer from the Mountainhome was here, and he was in the two-man military!

While I appreciate his efforts to protect this fortress, I removed him from active service. The man makes a good drink, and it would be a shame to have him die. Maybe if I can take a rest from this logistics nightmare, I'll talk with him. I Wonder if he remembers his best customer?

Anyway, I dealt with the military issue. We have three squads of five soldiers, and once I have a barracks sorted out we'll have three soldiers on duty at all times with the rest on reserve. I had initially set up a captain of the guard, but he had started making unreasonable demands of luxury so I instantly removed him from the position. Plus, his squad was named “The Armored Dead”. I'm not sure I like the pessimism in this place. Absolute power never interested me much, so I put myself in charge of a squad, “The Boats of Work”. For all intents and purposes I'm just a squad captain, but the people still expect me to deal with the military issues around here. I picked up a nice iron axe on the way. Things are looking up! The military is pretty much dormant for now, but that will change...

I took a look in the metalworks. There's perfectly good iron lying around, and these idiots are smelting copper and gold! I'll put a stop to that soon enough, but first I need to step up metal production. I ordered the construction of a smelter on one of the ore-heavy levels(There's a dining hall down here. No idea why).

On the 9th of Granite, the mayor imposed a ban on the export of crystal glass items. I let him get away with it, since I've no idea why we'd even produce that sort of thing. If he tries to punish a dwarf for something like that, though, I'll be sure to let him know exactly how I feel about this stupidity.


About a week later, the wall was completed! I've drawn up some defense plans for this place, And I'll be putting them into motion as soon as we're able.


The dwarves seem capable of handling the day-to-day running of the fortress, with a little intervention from me. This leaves me free to work on things that matter.


I ordered a large area next to the metalworks dug out. Armorstabbed, say hello to your barracks.

-------


Barracks cancelled. I guess I should've planned this out before, because we almost dug straight into the bottom of a pond. Still, I've repurposed the safe area into a weapons stockpile. We'll have a barracks yet.


Wow, there's a lot of wood in this fortress. Beds, too. Not enough rooms for everybody yet, which one of the other squad captains so subtly suggested I work on. I told the workers to build themselves some rooms, but keep them small-like. They happily went off. Keeps them busy, I suppose. I just took the first free room I came across. It has no door, but the way this fortress is stocking beds and tables and chairs I could probably afford to create a tower out of random bits of furniture.


Near the end of the month, I noticed the screaming from the walled off area had stopped. Don't know whether that's good or bad, but I'm not opening it up for a while to make sure.


There sure are a lot of cats in this fortress.


-------


There are no weapons already in this fortress, save for those that can be used as tools. To compensate for this horrifying fact, I orders the people to loot the nearby goblin corpses. It's not nice and their craft is simply awful, but they'll do until we can get some real weaponry in this fort. And the irony will be sweet when we turn their own weapons against them.


We built 28 rooms, put a bed in each, and there is still more left over. Why would anyone need all these beds?

-------

A horde of migrants arrived today. Fortress population is now at 79. Unbelievable! Just when I thought I'd worked out rooms for all these slackers, more show up. I've been informed that we're running low on booze. Come on in, why don't you, drink us dry and then complain about it!


Spring's almost over, and an Elven caravan arrived. They've got nothing to prove it was me. If they try to make something of this I'll show them the wrath of our militia. Not that I think these tree-dwelling simpletons could do any detective work.


Turns out all they wanted to do was trade. Perhaps the previous rulers have not been showing them Dwarven hospitality. Living out here must make you soft or something, what with the completely undefended fortress and these Elves showing up at the depot... They seem pretty docile, so I'll let them stay where they are for now. It'll be funny to watch them have to pack all their stuff back up without making anything.


Some time during the Elven visit, we finished the static defenses!

The system forces intruders to walk over the roof, which is covered with traps. Any survivors have to wander down a narrow corridor with more traps. And there's a ballista, too! Last resort, unfortunately. The ballista is indicriminate.


Found out today that some of the workers had traded a metal cage to the Elves for some berries, desperate for something they could eat or brew. Booze stocks have since risen, but this insubordination annoys me. I didn't punish them, but I let them know I wouldn't tolerate that sort of thing in the future.


One of the dwarves suddenly went mad, pushed a worker out of the forge and started working furiously! Zasit Whirlchanneled is her name, apparently, and the locals say that eventually she'll stop. Who knows, maybe she'll produce something worth my time.


Finally got the barracks up and running! With this, our military will always be ready to defend against threats the traps don't stop. Here's the military schedule as it stands now:

With everything set up, there's very little left for me to do. Going to take the valuables that they'll let me have as payment for my services and head straight back to the Mountainhome. All I have to do is stick around for a bit to make sure it runs smoothly, and I'm out of this hole!

Completely useless.

[The book entries end here. However, several pages have been ripped out.]


It's been a while since I last wrote, but what I saw today needs to be noted. I'll admit that by nature, I'm a paranoid person, but I can't think what I saw today can be adequately explained. One of the walls I built to protect the entrance connected with the walled off area near the entrance, making it difficult to move around the main hall. I decided I'd check what was in there.


It was a dead dwarf. They'd locked her up in there for some reason, and left her there until she'd died of thirst. Through the walls, the screaming sounded bestial, like a mad animal. I shut the door, trying not to draw any attention, and came back here to write this. I can't them know that I saw that. They clearly have no issues killing a person slowly and painfully.

-------

Some of them were watching me today. Oh God they know

-------

Trying to find an isolated room where I could get away from all these watching eyes(I made sure I had the key to the door), I found two more dead bodies, completely rotten. I need to get out of here. Forget the payment, I'd rather have my life.

-------

They're always watching the front door. Under my orders, no less. I can't just walk out now. What have I done?


Human merchants arrived today. I couldn't care less if the dwarves trade with them. I don't know if they will, considering the orders I gave earlier, but it's not like I'm going to make an issue of it. I don't want to end up like the person in the room.


Some of the residents greet me cheerfully, talk to me. They seem fairly normal. It's all a facade, I know.

-------

In my dreams, I hear the screaming again.

-------

It's my turn to be on watch. I've ripped these pages out of the journal. If they look through my stuff when I'm away, they won't find anything. I know they're just waiting for me to step out of line.


A couple of doctor types told me they had nowhere to practice, so I ordered the building of a hospital. They're working now, which I guess keeps their mind off of me.


Later in the day, a kobold tried to sneak in and was immediately spotted on top of the bridge, then ran away. If I wasn't so terrified for my life, maybe I'd feel some professional pride.

-------

I think it's the cats. There are so many cats in the fortress, and when they grow up they do something to the dwarves that makes them utterly devoted to their new pet. They'll do anything to protect them. I can't let this happen to me.

-------

The mayor just put out an order for the production of crystal glass goods. Why is this man so obsessed with crystal glass? We don't have any, I have no idea what it is, and we have no means to produce any, nor any use for crystal glass. Noticed he owned a pet dog rather than a cat. My war dog may not be as trustworthy an animal as it seems.

-------

Considered building a tower out of doors today. Nothing else to report.

-------

More kittens. I ordered them put to the knife before they could infect any more dwarves. A thresher named Adil Iklistmeng went mad and took the carpenter's workshop. She doesn't have a cat, so this is an unrelated phenomenon. She keeps muttering something under her breath about Veilship, whatever that means. The last one to do this created some useless trinket and then went back to normal, so there's nothing to worry about. I hope.

-------

THE CATS RUN EVERYTHING

-------

More kittens

-------

They started building more walls to block that person in, but they stopped. I guess she found what she wanted.

-------

Oh God she made this

Somebody help me

-------

They're digging down. They might be looking for something. Some sort of horrific monstrosity, forgotten by all that's good? I hope I'll be out of here by then.

-------

Wonder of wonders, a caravan from the mountainhome arrived! They're my way. out of here. I can't wait. But first I have to get past these insane people.

Situation? This is a nightmarish hellhole filled with cat cultists that lock people in rooms 'til they die. What do you think the situation is?!


One of the caravan guards hit that kobold thief, who felt it would be best to come round for another go. The thief ran until it bled to death. The trail of blood is quite impressive.

-------

Met a nice fellow by the name of Tomescale. Doesn't have any cats, and we had a nice talk that calmed my nerves a bit. He doesn't look anything like me in terms of facial features, but I've taken to wearing a full helmet at all times and if he wore it I think he'd pass for me. I'm almost out of here. Almost.

-------

A goblin ambush showed up. It seems they like throwing themselves against the merchant guards. If they'd attacked at any other time, we could've tested my battle plan. But the guards will make short work of these ones as well. Unfortunately, they killed the dwarf who spotted them, a woodcutter who was wandering around outside for no adequately explained reason. Don't know how their spouse will take it, but at this point I find it difficult to care. They killed a bunch of the cats outside, then headed across the bridge, where several were killed and the rest ran.

Serves them right.

-------

I traded some useless stuff for a barrel of wine and then used the profit to barter my safe return to the mountainhome. They looked at me funny when I said they could tell no one, but they don't know. Now I just need to clear things up with Tomescale.

-------

I asked him if he wanted to join the military. Wonder of wonders, he said yes. Winter is upon us, and I'm not sure I can stay here any longer. I have to get out.

-------

I've been here almost a year, and in that time I've seen terrible things. Going to the Mountainhome will keep my body safe, but I don't think I will ever sleep easy again. I will give Tomescale my armour and an envelope containing these pages and my resignation note, making him my replacement as squad captain, and ordered him to give it to the next person in charge of this place.


You have to know, this place is insane. The cats run everything. Get out of here while you still can.


-------

Well, this ends the story of a crazy guy. But wait! There's still two months left to go. So what happened in that time?


Well, first a master goblin thief got away with someone's child. That wasn't good. Then, unbelievably, so many trees had grown in Autumn that the mercahnts could no longer leave the area with their wagons, requiring a short defoliation campaign. At least it'll probably annoy all the Elves.


The mayor banned the export of helmets. Yeah, I don't know.


One last note: I built a tower 10 levels tall, with an uncompleted 11th floor. There are two bridges on the 10th floor. You can build things on the other side, and link the bridges to a lever that will “eject” the connected structure when pulled. Use it as you see fit.

We're fine for food, but the amount of plants we're growing is taking up all the barrels and more and more are required to produce booze. You may want to try and deal with this.


Well, that's me done. Good luck to whoever is next!

Monday, November 8, 2010

Year the Third

From the scattered and recovered notes of Artell Walledsmith, herbalist, manager and occasional fortress leader of Armorstabbed.

I am writing these notes down for the benefit of chroniclers because I've read some writings and chronicles of fortresses where I've been before and they were all a bunch of elephant dung. Maybe with these notes you all won't get it all wrong again.

I am Artell Walledsmith, and I thought I had retired to being a herbalist. But a while, as in, ten minutes ago the former leader quit and they needed to know if anyone had any prior experience. I wasn't going to volunteer though I did have some, because most of those fortesses had ended up evacuating or worse and I just wanted to hang around and not actually tell anyone what 'herbalists' did (that is, sit around all day eating those kinds of mushrooms and smoking those kinds of plants), but my mate Sigun felt slighted by something I'd said that morning so she mentioned it out loud and here we are.



I'll get you for that yet, Sigun.

Anyway, I know how this works, so I got down to brass tacks. I did a brief walk through every level and the entrance to surmise how the fortress stands. Considering my "profession" I really hadn't paid any attention to this stuff, as long as the food and alcohol supply was in order.

The entrance was covered by a U-shaped wall. There was the depot, yes. And there were also kobold parts strewn everywhere. That was all I saw before I got a massive headache from the sunshine and headed down the stairs. It didn't look very defendable but I wasn't going to worry about that for now.





 The next level was the main floor where most of us worked, lived and ate. I walked around the farm cavern and realized that we had only a few patches of plump helmets planted. The rest reserved for (the text gets messy)ing WILD STRAWBERRIES. That was why the dwarven wine had tasted oddly sweet lately, the idiots were making them out of elven plants! What kind of treachery was this? I looked and looked but we weren't even growing any pig tail! This is a travesty!


I kept walking around. I found a massive weapon stockpile that contained barely any weapons. I ordered everyone to start using it for furniture, since that you usually need that kind of space for. Weapons only take a few bins. We have a legendary bowyer, who had been making BEDS recently. I told them to start working on crossbows so we have something to sell. This fellow was the main source of wealth for the fort pretty much and we kept him making beds?

And by making beds I mean making beds. The fortress is about forty dwarves strong and we must have enough beds all for twice or thrice that number to sleep in. What do we need all these beds for? We can't even offload them to the elves, except by dropping them on them as they enter the trade depot!

The second level looked better. There was a smithy and a smelter, though they were unused. There was a huge gem stockpile though I had yet to hear of a gem being found in the rock. Some spaces had been carved out that looked good for some apartments so I told the miners to start there. The wood warehouse was laden so I told the furnace people to start making charcoal and ordered the gem stockpile to take bars as well. You always need bins and barrels, and making them from metal was the best bet.


The next level was just a bunch of apartments. It was nice and deep, I might move here.


After that it was just exploratory mineshafts and ore. We have copper and hematite ore, so we can make weapons and trap components out of iron and furniture and daily items out of copper. Looking good there; we only miss gems and coal, so I ordered more exploratory shafts deeper into the rock. Burning wood for fuel would sure piss off the elves, but it was not very dwarvenly in other aspects.


Then I took a look at the books. We have a fair amount of everything. At first glance the food situation looked suspect, but apparently all prepared meals go under "Other" food. So we're loaded there. Unfortunately most of the food and drink is made out of turtles and wild strawberries.

I was about to start drawing the plans for an underground farm, a proper farm, when the lookouts reported a snatcher outside the fort. We have a three man militia, the Walled Deities, which I ordered to kill the bastard.


After that was dealt with, we got a bunch of immigrants. And by bunch I mean nineteen, increasing our population by a full 50%. None of their skills were particularly useful, so I assigned them mostly to food-producing duties. One guy, a trapper I think, got made a mason because he had 'Mason' in his name.

Hey, I thought it was funny.

My lovely Sigun decided the increase of population by 50% without any changes in infrastructure was a cause for celebration, not concern:


Sometimes I will just (the text is smudged and unclear). One of the immigrants was a mayor who had said he'd been appointed our new leader. We told him in no uncertain terms we'd appoint our own leaders here, but that we'd have him around just for the sake of good relations with the mountainhome. I also reminded him that I am from the generation that knows what a 'mandate processor' is and that shut him up quickly.

The next problem to crop up was that the dogs and cats of the first immigrants had begun having litters. I'd seen what this had done before. If you didn't intervene you'd have the whole fortress crawling with mewling and barking furballs. So I did what any decent dwarvf would do. And Sigun's party needed a feast.


 


Then it was time to work with the miners to build the wet farm. It would be a very simple construction, taking water from one of the naturally occurring ponds. No water screws or anything fancy like that. This would be fool proof. A big room with a three door barricade, a floodgate operated from the central staircase room would control the flow of water once the pond filled up over time. Then we'd use the pond to flood up the room when necessary.







It worked as expected, and no casualties. The water gently sloshed out and the miner skipped to have a drink. We'd have to wait some weeks for the water to dry out enough, but then we'd have plump helmets and pig tails growing. They'd be ready to harvest in a year or so from now!

 Then I heard one of the farmers was "moody". I wasn't sure what they meant, but they actually meant a possession.

This was always a precarious time. Would they find the right things? This time they did.

The results were... well, I've seen better to be honest, but it'd add to the prestige of the fortress.

What the blazes will we do with just one? Oh well.

Things were chugging along quietly. The elven caravan dropped by. We drove them away with sticks and stones of course. (Later accounts actually suggest Walledsmith initiated some trade with the elves, selling items made of shells and rock to buy food and strawberry wine to shore up the stocks, but these are likely to be slanderous fabrications.)

The fortress liaison arrived along with the dwarven caravan. We traded some of those legendary made crossbows and got loads of food and alcohol in return. I asked them to bring us leather and miscellanea that tended to be in short supply. I was optimistic about finding gems so refused to buy the few emeralds they had.

We were also attacked by a small goblin patrol. The Walled Deities would have been hard pressed to put them down on their own, food for thought for the next guy, but  the caravan guards sprang into action and hacked them to pieces. Excellent timing!




We also had a few cases of thieves, but they were quickly put down.

 Our master bowyer also gave birth to a girl! Congratulations. Another mouth to feed that didn't work.



Then the most peculiar thing happened. My Sigun withdrew from society into a carpenter's workshop.

I didn't notice first because I was wrapping up our annual trade agreement with the liaison.

Then I didn't notice because elated with all the booze and food we had, I decided to throw a party.


This may have been negligent of me, I admit, but I'm the one paying the price. See, she kept sketching images of cut gems. But the fortress does not have any. I sent someone to catch the caravan and to buy some, any, but they fainted only a few miles out. To be fair it was a great achievement for a cave dweller to make it that far.

I ordered more digs down into the rock, but no gems would be found. I tried to persuade her that the glass we bought from the caravan was gems but she wouldn't touch them. I knew what was going to happen next. I'd seen it so many times before. But with my Sigun? I mean we didn't always get along but...

For the good of the fortress, I had her workshop walled off by the carpenters. She didn't even notice. This is why workshops are usually dug into separate rooms with doors that can be barred. The designer here had been either negligent, ignorant or optimistic.


I was sort of resigned to losing her by now. That's what happens when someone goes berserk... it's like a rock dropped from the ceiling and buried them. They cease to exist.




We kept the door locked save to deliver her beer and food. One day the screaming started and we knew we'd have to stop. The pounding and wailing lasted for a few days and nights. Then it stopped. But I knew how it went. 

You don't open the door until the miasma begins seeping through the door. That's when you know a berserk dwarf lying in wait won't jump out and begin slaughtering old friends and... lovers.

Some of the dwarves took it harder than others. Everyone liked her a lot. One of our first dwarves, who was built like a bull from all the mining we had done just... I can't even believe it, but he refused to drink. At all. And he just slowly withered away as Sigun did. 


I felt somehow odd, that despite being her lover, I couldn't come to have such a reaction. Maybe that's a form of strength I just happen to have. Anyway, I decided to retire from leading the fort. Everyone wanted to make me the manager since I'd demonstrated such coolness and stoicism in the face of crisis like any good dwarf. I figured I'd accept as long as they let me back to the leaves and mushrooms.

My tenure wasn't a failure even though Sigun died. The value of the fortress increased by half. We don't have as much alcohol, but more is being made by the minute; we will be fine. My successor should be someone who knows the ins and outs of fortress defense - it is not my forte, but we need beefier defenses from raiders, thieves and snatchers.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Year the second!



(From the memoirs of Dann, professional brew-dwarf)

Having gotten thoroughly fed up with the tasteless beer appetites of the Mountainhome, I decided to strike out on my own to where a brewer of my caliber would be appreciated. I'd heard things about a place called Armorstabbed, a relatively new settlement with lots of plants, so I packed my bags and went for a hike.

I almost missed the place. A single, solitary hole in the ground was the only sign that Armorstabbed existed. Clearly, it was still very much a work in progress.

"This is all just temporary, right?" I asked my guide. "There's plans for a grandiose entrance with spikes and castles and crossbows, yes?"

He refused to answer. I didn't realize how bad of a sign that was. We went downstairs, and out of the thrice-accursed sunlight.


The "fort" was a maze of twisty little dirt passageways, all alike... None were very wide, and there was a noticeable lack of... well... everything. Only a very few workshops, no kitchen, no dining hall, no meeting space, no bedrooms... It was a travesty. I saw a dwarf run by chasing a rat, and inquired about the food stocks...

Photobucket

Nothing. There was no food of any sort. There was no booze. There was no booze! These poor dorfs had been stone cold sober for I-don't-know-how-long, and now were out of food as well. Clearly, someone needed to take charge in a hurry.

And then I noticed that they were all standing around looking at me.

Crap.

First things first - we needed food and fast. I told some of the farmers to start finding edible food outside. ("It's just like farming, but everything's already planted for you!") The other farmers were pointed towards our tiny farm plot and told to start working harder. The grandiose mining plans were suspended as well, and a few of the huge dogs lounging around were butchered for meat. I also started building bedrooms - still dirt, but closer to real rock than the rest of the delve.

We also got a bucket-load of new immigrants. Twenty-two of the people - lots of fishers and farmers, just what we need. Fishers were told to start fishing, farmers were told to start farming. We built a second farm plot as well.

It wasn't until the 1st of Malachite - well into the summer - that I got a still up and running. Stupid carpenters not building barrels, stupid masons not making doors... My list of complaints got longer and longer as the summer went on. On the plus side, the rumors were right - there's lots of varieties of brewables here, and they all make tasty alcohol.

And then someone went insane in the dining room. He stood around ranting about skulls and pentagons and things for some time, until someone tried to build a bowyer's shop to start building weapons. The insane dwarf tossed him out of it and started working. We steered clear of that place for a good long while afterwards.

So, Iden Delethdakost (who has been drinking far too much of my work) came up with a silly idea - he said, "you know how when you hit something, it gets smaller? What if you kept hitting things? Would they keep getting smaller?" Someone else suggested we use a drawbridge. Having nothing better to do, we built one.

So, the insane bowyer finally finished his thingie - he insists it's a blowgun, I call it a small pipe.

Photobucket

6th Timber - Armok almighty, the drawbridge actually smashes things! We stuck a bunch of junk under it, pulled the lever, and there was nothing left. This may also have applications in fortification...

Surprisingly, after the massive wave of immigrants who showed up when there was no food and no booze, nobody else arrived for the rest of the year. Not sure where we would have put them, so maybe it's a good thing.

Anyway, everything was going all well and smoothly, we were starting to build up food reserves, and then in the middle of autumn, the kitchen filled up with a horrible stench.

Photobucket

It happened again. Twice. I figure it was due to both having the butcher's shop in the kitchen and the fact that the kitchen was the main run of traffic between the dining room and the store room, so I built a long hallway off into nowhere for the butcher, and a way around so people wouldn't tromp past my still.

Rotting food has become a problem a few times - both in the food reserve and the garbage dump. We've been throwing it under the drawbridge for disposal, which continues to do a surprisingly good job.

We tucked in for the winter with strong reserves of both food and booze, a welcome change from last winter. The refuse pile continued to generate the occasional stink, which we dealt with in the usual manner.

Anyways, at the start of spring, I retired. Handed the position of fortress leader off to someone who claimed to know what he was doing. Here's some sketches of how the fortress sits:


Photobucket

Aboveground, we've got the trade depot and the entrance about halfway walled off. I have plans to fortify the tops of the walls and add archery platforms up there. You can also see the base of the drawbridge.

Photobucket

The drawbridge itself is exactly what you'd expect - big enough for anything to cross, rises upwards to fill the gap it leaves in the fortifications. All the walls are built from good solid rock - I don't want my walls to burn down.


Photobucket

The main level of the fort - still too close to the surface, still too maze-like. It'll work for now, but I look forward to the day when I'm surrounded by good solid rock. The bedrooms are down a couple more floors, down in the random mine-works someone seem to have dug in dirt for fun. There's only enough rooms down there for half the population or so - having craftsdwarves who aren't lazy bums would make it significantly easier.

Ah well. I leave the running of this place to someone who wants to do it. It's back to the still for me - assuming I can find another barrel. (Stupid lazy craftsdwarves...)

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Fort Armorstabbed: The PPC's Let's Play Dwarf Fortress Succession Game

Let's Play Dwarf Fortress - Armorstabbed


What is Dwarf Fortress?
Dwarf Fortress is a game where, as the name suggests, you control a fortress of dwarves, keeping them fed, happy, and safe from a lot of things that want your dwarves dead. It lends itself to a lot of insanity, which the infamous LP Boatmurdered can explain better than I can.

The Legend of Boatmurdered - NSFW

Let's all have lots of Fun, shall we?

Contributors (so far, in no particular order):
- ObscurumAeterna
- JulyFlame
- Dann
- Nakkel
- Tranum
- Artell


The rules:
Everyone plays one year of game time each. You have a week real-time. When you see "Spring has Arrived!", save the file and pass it on. Remember to take pictures and make comments on them as time goes by in the year. If you completely ruin the fortress, we'll move back to the last save and pass it on to the next person.

Year One: Played by ObscurumAeterna