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Topics - Johammeth
2
Suggestions Corner / Let's talk about Horse Ranged.
« on: October 21, 2014, 08:39:50 am »
This is a longer version of a post I started to make in the 4.0 thread (full disclosure: I just got my STR HT up to level)
I think most people are generally satisfied with the nerfs to HorseRanged (HR players being the obvious exception). “Douchey delay-cav who circle just out of range firing projectiles with impunity and farming valor while ignoring their own team” are far less effective, so Mission Accomplished.
I would like to present another perspective:
The nerfs did not address the specific problems with HR (the aforementioned playstyle), and in fact re-enforce the idea that the class should be played as passively and selfishly as possible.
-------------------------------
There is nothing inherently wrong/broken/toxic/*gamer jargon* with being Horse Ranged, but there IS something inherently wrong with the play patterns that HR are encouraged to follow. Horse Ranged traditionally excels at Passive, Effortless Non-Interactive Stupidity (henceforth P.E.N.I.S.) play. I describe this playstyle as “when player A can affect player B, and player B has little or no recourse against the action.” The nerfs (wrongly) carpet bombed HR in general, when they should have instead targeted HR's real problem (their incredible capacity for P.E.N.I.S. Play).
How did the recent nerfs affect HR's relationship with P.E.N.I.S. Play? The 15 damage cap (any static cap, for that matter) creates a very specific restriction on how you should build, itemize, and play your HR.
Since any damage over 15 is wasted...
-Players are encouraged to build for mobility: You should build only enough PT/PD/xbow to do 15 real damage, and dump the rest into riding.
-Players are encouraged to itemize for a high volume of low damage shots (eg: If throwing darts @32 ammo do the same damage per hit as throwing lances @6, there's no question of which weapon you must use): Spam out a great quantity of shots, since the hard cap ensures that there are no “quality” shots. If it takes you 6 minutes to blow through your ammo, everyone in *dead*chat will just have to wait.
-Players are encouraged to play as passively as possible: Any bit of speed you have that pushes your damage over 15 is wasted. While you get no benefit from this extra speed, the speed exposes you to significant danger (the risk of coming into the enemy's range, and taking full speed-bonus damage from them). Charging towards the enemy in order to hit them (thus creating an interactive play experience for both parties) is objectively stupid. Work up just enough speed to push your real damage to 15 (perhaps by circling around your opponent?) and proceed with P.E.N.I.S. Play.
In effect, the HR nerfs force HR to play mobility focused delay-spam-bots who have no reason to do anything but casually lope around the outskirts of a fight. The nerfs are successful in their ham-fisted severity, but serve only to re-enforce—rather than correct—Horse Ranged's fundamental problems.
---
I need to get back to work, but here's a sketch of what I'd like to see HR become, whenever changes eventually come around: High-risk high-reward driveby/charge specialists whose damage is closely tied to how close and how fast they attack the enemy.
-Lower base damage (the new % reduction seems the right way to go) without an arbitrary static cap.
-Increased speed bonus damage (so charging straight towards the enemy will negate the above damage reduction, which P.E.N.I.S. Players still suffer).
-(I'm a bit fuzzy on the mechanics at play here) HR projectiles lose their speed/speed bonus more quickly over medium/long distance. (Isn't there some kind of effect where projectiles lose speed over distance? Or am I just making that up? Either way, HR wishing to get the most out of their builds would have to charge straight into the teeth of the enemy).
---
I'm assuming that further HR changes will be back-burnered until the Revival patch has had enough time to “breathe,” but I think it's worth starting the conversation.
Your thoughts, comments, and nudes are much appreciated.
I think most people are generally satisfied with the nerfs to HorseRanged (HR players being the obvious exception). “Douchey delay-cav who circle just out of range firing projectiles with impunity and farming valor while ignoring their own team” are far less effective, so Mission Accomplished.
I would like to present another perspective:
The nerfs did not address the specific problems with HR (the aforementioned playstyle), and in fact re-enforce the idea that the class should be played as passively and selfishly as possible.
-------------------------------
There is nothing inherently wrong/broken/toxic/*gamer jargon* with being Horse Ranged, but there IS something inherently wrong with the play patterns that HR are encouraged to follow. Horse Ranged traditionally excels at Passive, Effortless Non-Interactive Stupidity (henceforth P.E.N.I.S.) play. I describe this playstyle as “when player A can affect player B, and player B has little or no recourse against the action.” The nerfs (wrongly) carpet bombed HR in general, when they should have instead targeted HR's real problem (their incredible capacity for P.E.N.I.S. Play).
How did the recent nerfs affect HR's relationship with P.E.N.I.S. Play? The 15 damage cap (any static cap, for that matter) creates a very specific restriction on how you should build, itemize, and play your HR.
Since any damage over 15 is wasted...
-Players are encouraged to build for mobility: You should build only enough PT/PD/xbow to do 15 real damage, and dump the rest into riding.
-Players are encouraged to itemize for a high volume of low damage shots (eg: If throwing darts @32 ammo do the same damage per hit as throwing lances @6, there's no question of which weapon you must use): Spam out a great quantity of shots, since the hard cap ensures that there are no “quality” shots. If it takes you 6 minutes to blow through your ammo, everyone in *dead*chat will just have to wait.
-Players are encouraged to play as passively as possible: Any bit of speed you have that pushes your damage over 15 is wasted. While you get no benefit from this extra speed, the speed exposes you to significant danger (the risk of coming into the enemy's range, and taking full speed-bonus damage from them). Charging towards the enemy in order to hit them (thus creating an interactive play experience for both parties) is objectively stupid. Work up just enough speed to push your real damage to 15 (perhaps by circling around your opponent?) and proceed with P.E.N.I.S. Play.
In effect, the HR nerfs force HR to play mobility focused delay-spam-bots who have no reason to do anything but casually lope around the outskirts of a fight. The nerfs are successful in their ham-fisted severity, but serve only to re-enforce—rather than correct—Horse Ranged's fundamental problems.
---
I need to get back to work, but here's a sketch of what I'd like to see HR become, whenever changes eventually come around: High-risk high-reward driveby/charge specialists whose damage is closely tied to how close and how fast they attack the enemy.
-Lower base damage (the new % reduction seems the right way to go) without an arbitrary static cap.
-Increased speed bonus damage (so charging straight towards the enemy will negate the above damage reduction, which P.E.N.I.S. Players still suffer).
-(I'm a bit fuzzy on the mechanics at play here) HR projectiles lose their speed/speed bonus more quickly over medium/long distance. (Isn't there some kind of effect where projectiles lose speed over distance? Or am I just making that up? Either way, HR wishing to get the most out of their builds would have to charge straight into the teeth of the enemy).
---
I'm assuming that further HR changes will be back-burnered until the Revival patch has had enough time to “breathe,” but I think it's worth starting the conversation.
Your thoughts, comments, and nudes are much appreciated.
3
Suggestions Corner / Invalid Nudge Notification.
« on: June 03, 2014, 09:55:32 pm »
Howdy,
I've got a small Quality of Life/Gameplay Experience change regarding the game's notification for "Invalid Nudges" (trying to nudge when your character is unable due to weapon/animation restrictions.)
I'll illustrate my point through an example:
A player holding 2H attack tries to nudge an opponent. He presses V, and nothing happens. He dies because rather than interrupting the enemy's attack with a nudge, "WTF MY NUDGE DIDNT GO."
The nudge "didn't go" because it was an invalid nudge attempt, but cRPG explains the situation like this:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
"What?"
This alert echoes the player's exact thoughts ("WTF" rage), and throws them back in his face. It does not give the player the information he needs to correct his error, and serves only to compound his frustration over dying for mysterious reasons.
I think that the alert text should be changed from "What?" to "Invalid Nudge Attempt" (or something similarly direct/clear/clinical) so that it the game gives the player the information he needs to understand his mistake and correct it next time.
This won't affect veterans, but it will make the game slightly less mysterious/infuriating for players still figuring out nudge mechanics.
tl;dr
Alert messages should be clear and informative, not vague and trolly.
I've got a small Quality of Life/Gameplay Experience change regarding the game's notification for "Invalid Nudges" (trying to nudge when your character is unable due to weapon/animation restrictions.)
I'll illustrate my point through an example:
A player holding 2H attack tries to nudge an opponent. He presses V, and nothing happens. He dies because rather than interrupting the enemy's attack with a nudge, "WTF MY NUDGE DIDNT GO."
The nudge "didn't go" because it was an invalid nudge attempt, but cRPG explains the situation like this:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
"What?"
This alert echoes the player's exact thoughts ("WTF" rage), and throws them back in his face. It does not give the player the information he needs to correct his error, and serves only to compound his frustration over dying for mysterious reasons.
I think that the alert text should be changed from "What?" to "Invalid Nudge Attempt" (or something similarly direct/clear/clinical) so that it the game gives the player the information he needs to understand his mistake and correct it next time.
This won't affect veterans, but it will make the game slightly less mysterious/infuriating for players still figuring out nudge mechanics.
tl;dr
Alert messages should be clear and informative, not vague and trolly.
4
General Discussion / Masterwork Wooden Stick.
« on: May 19, 2014, 11:17:23 pm »
This object is a Masterwork Wooden Stick.
It is made out of Wooden Stick.
It is decorated with an image of a face in wood.
All craftsmanship is of the lowest quality.
This object menaces with spikes of Poorly Rendered Face
It is surrounded by an aura of madness and confusion.
This object is a Masterwork Wooden Stick.
It is made out of Wooden Stick.
It is decorated with an image of a face in wood.
All craftsmanship is of the lowest quality.
This object menaces with spikes of Poorly Rendered Face
It is surrounded by an aura of madness and confusion.
This object is a Masterwork Wooden Stick.
5
General Discussion / How long can the cRPG community survive?
« on: April 28, 2014, 05:16:09 am »
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I've always wondered what kind of a clusterfuck society would be like if NA cRPG people acted like NA cRPG people IRL.
I am using thereal life simulator game Dwarf Fortress to answer that question. (For those of you who don't know, Dwarf Fortress is a 2d village builder/survival game where everyone is a useless alcoholic dwarf just seconds away from a complete mental breakdown. AKA, the cRPG community).
I'll be updating this thread as the disasters unfold. I'll need a steady stream of players to add to the game, so please drop names of people I should put in.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU:
CHAPTER 1: A GENESIS OF NEW BEGINNINGS, FRESH STARTS, AND REBIRTH.
CHAPTER 2: NOTHING AT ALL HAPPENS
The first immigrant wave has arrived! There were 4 newcomers in total. They are:
-DrTaco, a peasant with skills in Milking Animals, Spinning Thread, and Butchery. DrTaco absolutely detests snails.
-Goretooth, a skilled dyer of cloth and fabric. He absolutely detests worms.
-Granpappy, a farmer who is very fat, friendly, and quick to anger.
-Taser, A fishing enthusiast who enjoys catching, cleaning, and dissecting fish. Also an accomplished armorer. He absolutely detests leeches.
With the exception of Taser's skills as an armorsmith, all we have is a 'meh' batch of peasants with severe aversions to vermin.
(Note to self: ensure the survival of the cats, so that vermin do not thrive, and detest the newcomers).
-San has begun moonlighting as a mechanic, creating gears and gadgets that will let us open and close gates at a distance. This will allow us to seal off the front door in the event of an attack, and also to begin pumping water into the fort with a degree of control.
-Testicleez has been ordered to spam-produce stone crafts for trade. He has an infinitely repeating work order for stone dolls, crowns, and other knick-knacks. He may or may not speak with the dolls when he is nervous.
Early Autumn 131
-A pack of two humped camels has been spotted outside of the fortress. Intentions unknown; efforts have been redoubled on the great barrier gate.
-It is still raining goblin blood. I have ordered the excavation of a small pit, which I hope will soon form a pool of goblin blood. The precise use has yet to be determined, but I suspect that a "dunking in goblin blood" punishment could serve as a strong crime deterrent in the future.
-The gate has been completed, and the fortress is now sealed against a potential camel incursion.
Mid Autumn 131
-More Immigrants have arrived! They will be addressed in the next update.
CURRENT STATE OF THE FORT:
-Good on food.
-Good on booze.
-Safe.
-Happy.
-Water projects nearly completed.
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CHAPTER 3: ETHICAL HUNTING
CHAPTER 4: CONFUSION OVER THE ROLE OF THE MILITIA.
CHAPTER 5: A SERIOUS DRINKING PROBLEM
CHAPTER 6: HONORING THE DEAD
CHAPTER 7: TASERWATCH, AND THE BATTLE FOR THE TRADE DEPOT.
CHAPTER 8: EVERYTHING WENT BETTER THAN EXPECTED
CHAPTER 9: GOBLIN INTERROGATION
CHAPTER 10: THEY TOOK OUR JOBS
I have breached the cavern.
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38 levels under the earth, we have discovered rich veins of Copper hidden in the Obsidian.
Testicleez, whose constant stonework has made him a Legendary crafter, will fashion the Obsidian into a vast arsenal of stone swords.
The copper will be smelted into bars, and forged into armor.
We also passed through a thick layer of marble. Once other matters are organized, Daruvian will be given and endless supply of the rare stone for use in doormaking.
The Elves have arrived, bringing much needed wood.
And a Giant Ostrich Hen.
They also brought a Jaguar. Needless to say, the Life-Fire training room has been repurposed as the "Death by Jaguar" execution pit.
...or so I had hoped.
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I dropped the Goblin into the Jaguar's pit, and disaster struck.
I THOUGHT the goblin was unarmed -- He had a Silver Dagger.
I THOUGHT the Jaguar was going to be a fearsome opponent -- It was tame and useless (Must be from Jacksonville).
The Goblin was able to cut the Jaguar's chest open and stab it through the liver before the room was flooded with security Dwarves.
They shot the Goblin full of crossbow bolts. As tradition dictates, the killing blow was dealt with a fist that smashed the skull into the brain (credit to Jack1 for the finishing punch).
The baby turkeys have grown up. All males but 2 have been slaughtered and turned into Lavish Meals, Bone Crossbow Bolts, and RJ's BDSM TurkeyLeather Armor.
We have a new Mayor! Congratulations to Phoenix for this great honor. Your quarters will be ready ASAP
With the completion of some copper armor we're finally re--
MORE GODDAMN IMMIGRANTS FUCK (Mercifully, only 10 this time).
This is getting ridiculous.
I was hoping to post a grand exploration of the cave, but ran out of time. I'm gonna go make some dinner. Next update will be in a couple hours.CHAPTER 11: THIS IS SOME BULL
CHAPTER 12: SMALL PACKAGES
CHAPTER 13: FOOL ME ONCE
CHAPTER 14: SEEDS OF VENGEANCE
CHAPTER 15: THE YEAR OF THE GOBLIN IS NIGH
CHAPTER 16: BLOODY IMMIGRANTS
CHAPTER 17: THAT SINKING SENSATION
CHAPTER 18: THE TEDIOUS BUTCHER
CHAPTER 19: CREEPY CRAWLERS
CHAPTER 20: REGARDING THE SINISTER NATURE OF CAMELS
CHAPTER 21: NOT TITLES THAT HONOR MEN
Chapter 22: STRANGE VISITORS
CHAPTER 23: HUBRIS
CHAPTER 24: EIFFEL TOWERED
CHAPTER 25: ENEMY OF MY ENEMY
THE END.
I've always wondered what kind of a clusterfuck society would be like if NA cRPG people acted like NA cRPG people IRL.
I am using the
I'll be updating this thread as the disasters unfold. I'll need a steady stream of players to add to the game, so please drop names of people I should put in.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU:
CHAPTER 1: A GENESIS OF NEW BEGINNINGS, FRESH STARTS, AND REBIRTH.
(click to show/hide)
First, I would like to introduce our dramatis personae, the seven dwarves who will get this shit-show on the shit-road.
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Accompanying us are several turkeys, cats, dogs, and an obscene reserve of beer, rum, wine, liquor, and snacks (I'm told that Prepared Yak's Eye is a favorite.)
-Bob, SP1N, Daruvian, Testi and I are braindead peasants who are only barely capable of accomplishing basic tasks such as mining, hauling, and crude construction.
(Here, for example, is a psychological profile of Testi) :
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-San is a mighty* warrior.
*Relative to us retards. He might be able to defeat a kangaroo in single combat.
-Tanken has an incredible knack for bargaining and trading.
OUR NEW HOME:
Seeing as how cRPG players love to complain about that "this map sucks," it only seems fitting get started in a terrible environment. We have unpacked our wagons in a rocky wasteland in the middle of nowhere. It is spring, there are no trees, there is barely any surface water, and the area is fucking haunted.
What does 'haunted' mean, you ask? It means that 10 seconds into the game, THIS happened:
...
Bob, SP1N, and Daruvian quickly mine into a nearby hill to provide us with cover against the Slayer-esque torrents of raining goblin blood. As noted before, Testi "likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather," so he's stuck hauling all of the food, booze, wood, and livestock in from the apocalyptic weather.
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Pictured: Temporary booze stockpile, animals, and the stairway down into the fortress.
While Testi goes about his sanguine duty, the rest of us set about our tasks. Johammeth begins to farm some delicious mushrooms, while the others mine out and furnish our future home (It turns out that Daruvian is rather skilled at making stone tables and chairs).
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
This excavation took half a year and there is little to report, aside from the persistent downpour of goblin blood.
In early Autumn, we receive that new immigrants will soon be joining our enclave.
...I wonder who they will be?
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
Accompanying us are several turkeys, cats, dogs, and an obscene reserve of beer, rum, wine, liquor, and snacks (I'm told that Prepared Yak's Eye is a favorite.)
-Bob, SP1N, Daruvian, Testi and I are braindead peasants who are only barely capable of accomplishing basic tasks such as mining, hauling, and crude construction.
(Here, for example, is a psychological profile of Testi) :
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
-San is a mighty* warrior.
*Relative to us retards. He might be able to defeat a kangaroo in single combat.
-Tanken has an incredible knack for bargaining and trading.
OUR NEW HOME:
Seeing as how cRPG players love to complain about that "this map sucks," it only seems fitting get started in a terrible environment. We have unpacked our wagons in a rocky wasteland in the middle of nowhere. It is spring, there are no trees, there is barely any surface water, and the area is fucking haunted.
What does 'haunted' mean, you ask? It means that 10 seconds into the game, THIS happened:
...
Bob, SP1N, and Daruvian quickly mine into a nearby hill to provide us with cover against the Slayer-esque torrents of raining goblin blood. As noted before, Testi "likes working outdoors and grumbles only mildly at inclement weather," so he's stuck hauling all of the food, booze, wood, and livestock in from the apocalyptic weather.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
Pictured: Temporary booze stockpile, animals, and the stairway down into the fortress.
While Testi goes about his sanguine duty, the rest of us set about our tasks. Johammeth begins to farm some delicious mushrooms, while the others mine out and furnish our future home (It turns out that Daruvian is rather skilled at making stone tables and chairs).
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
This excavation took half a year and there is little to report, aside from the persistent downpour of goblin blood.
In early Autumn, we receive that new immigrants will soon be joining our enclave.
...I wonder who they will be?
(click to show/hide)
The first immigrant wave has arrived! There were 4 newcomers in total. They are:
-DrTaco, a peasant with skills in Milking Animals, Spinning Thread, and Butchery. DrTaco absolutely detests snails.
-Goretooth, a skilled dyer of cloth and fabric. He absolutely detests worms.
-Granpappy, a farmer who is very fat, friendly, and quick to anger.
-Taser, A fishing enthusiast who enjoys catching, cleaning, and dissecting fish. Also an accomplished armorer. He absolutely detests leeches.
With the exception of Taser's skills as an armorsmith, all we have is a 'meh' batch of peasants with severe aversions to vermin.
(Note to self: ensure the survival of the cats, so that vermin do not thrive, and detest the newcomers).
-San has begun moonlighting as a mechanic, creating gears and gadgets that will let us open and close gates at a distance. This will allow us to seal off the front door in the event of an attack, and also to begin pumping water into the fort with a degree of control.
-Testicleez has been ordered to spam-produce stone crafts for trade. He has an infinitely repeating work order for stone dolls, crowns, and other knick-knacks. He may or may not speak with the dolls when he is nervous.
Early Autumn 131
-A pack of two humped camels has been spotted outside of the fortress. Intentions unknown; efforts have been redoubled on the great barrier gate.
-It is still raining goblin blood. I have ordered the excavation of a small pit, which I hope will soon form a pool of goblin blood. The precise use has yet to be determined, but I suspect that a "dunking in goblin blood" punishment could serve as a strong crime deterrent in the future.
-The gate has been completed, and the fortress is now sealed against a potential camel incursion.
Mid Autumn 131
-More Immigrants have arrived! They will be addressed in the next update.
CURRENT STATE OF THE FORT:
-Good on food.
-Good on booze.
-Safe.
-Happy.
-Water projects nearly completed.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
(click to show/hide)
This will be a brief post again, since it's unlikely that any disasters will strike this early (barring any issues with the waterworks). I'll give a running commentary of highlights, following the SEASON - YEAR format.
Mid Autumn 131
NEW IMMIGRANTS!
-
Life, a hunter. She absolutely detests worms. Great.
Macropus, a skilless peasant with dreams of becoming a swordsman. She absolutely detests jumping spiders. Goddamnit.
Penitent Turtler, a farmer who will be set to work turning plants into rope. This exactly what I was hoping for. He also has a pet lamb.
Tydeus, a skilled weaver, and surgeon. He will most likely become the Chief Medical Dwarf once I finish the hospital.
Vengt, another skilless peasant... this time with dreams of becoming a maceman. I'm sure I can find him some work somewhere.
Xeen, who is skilled both at using a sword and shearing sheep (I'm sure there's an interesting backstory to this particular combination of skills...)
Current plans:
-Finish irrigating the farmland next to the kitchen, so that we can establish a cloth industry.
-Finish wells in the party room/hospital.
-Find random schlep-work for our aspiring warriors, until such a time as we have adequate arms to provide them with.
-Expand upon the goblin-blood pool.
-Life has been tasked with the extermination of suspicious camels.
-Life went hunting, with his trusty pet duckling. He found a camel, and fired all of his bolts at it. He abandoned the hunt after running out of ammo, leaving the animal like this:
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It's worth emphasizing that the poor beast is still alive, and Life has no intention of finishing it off.
Late Autumn 131
-I have begun controlled flooding of the farming fields, and filling of the well-cistern.
-Some the EU dwarves have come to trade with us. I told them that we need lots of wood, and lots of wood products.
-I have revoked Life's hunting privileges after that shameful display (buy a fucking arb dude).
Early Winter 131
-Water projects went off without a hitch, newly irrigated land will be farmable soon, and the well-cistern is full.
-Traded for a bunch of wooden barrels, and other wood products (Including, I am pround to say, several very strong crutches). Sadly, the EU dwarves currently had no raw wood to offer.
-Workshops for the textile industry being built for when the new farmland is ready.
-Macropus has been given the noble duty of "bookeeper," ensuring that we have a proper inventory of our items. Cons: lots of paperwork and poring over musty tomes. Pros: a nicer room for the Macropus/Xeen life partner duo.
-Yes, it is still raining goblin blood.
No, seriously the goblin bloon-rain has gotten out of control.
Mid Winter 131
-There are Coyotes and Honey Badgers on the prowl. The gate has been sealed for now... However once the portal is safe, I will begin laying cage-traps outside in an effort to capture these wily creatures and build them into the fort's defenses.
131 YEAR IN REVIEW:
-Fortress Established
-No casualties.
-Friendly relations with all neighbors.
-Food/Booze levels are A-OK.
-Wood stockpile is getting low (though certainly not critical)
Spring 132 HAPPY NEW YEAR!
-The Turkey Eggs have hatched, and there are now 25+ baby turkeys.
-More puppies born. I should train some of them to be hunting/war dogs (Life is the only skilled animal trainer, but I'm concerned that he'll sadistically train them to maim but not kill).
Here's a new year's update on the newly installed farming/textile/turkey industries:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
It's a new year, so it seems like a good time to post an update, and take a break for the night.
Mid Autumn 131
NEW IMMIGRANTS!
-
Life, a hunter. She absolutely detests worms. Great.
Macropus, a skilless peasant with dreams of becoming a swordsman. She absolutely detests jumping spiders. Goddamnit.
Penitent Turtler, a farmer who will be set to work turning plants into rope. This exactly what I was hoping for. He also has a pet lamb.
Tydeus, a skilled weaver, and surgeon. He will most likely become the Chief Medical Dwarf once I finish the hospital.
Vengt, another skilless peasant... this time with dreams of becoming a maceman. I'm sure I can find him some work somewhere.
Xeen, who is skilled both at using a sword and shearing sheep (I'm sure there's an interesting backstory to this particular combination of skills...)
Current plans:
-Finish irrigating the farmland next to the kitchen, so that we can establish a cloth industry.
-Finish wells in the party room/hospital.
-Find random schlep-work for our aspiring warriors, until such a time as we have adequate arms to provide them with.
-Expand upon the goblin-blood pool.
-Life has been tasked with the extermination of suspicious camels.
-Life went hunting, with his trusty pet duckling. He found a camel, and fired all of his bolts at it. He abandoned the hunt after running out of ammo, leaving the animal like this:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
It's worth emphasizing that the poor beast is still alive, and Life has no intention of finishing it off.
Late Autumn 131
-I have begun controlled flooding of the farming fields, and filling of the well-cistern.
-Some the EU dwarves have come to trade with us. I told them that we need lots of wood, and lots of wood products.
-I have revoked Life's hunting privileges after that shameful display (buy a fucking arb dude).
Early Winter 131
-Water projects went off without a hitch, newly irrigated land will be farmable soon, and the well-cistern is full.
-Traded for a bunch of wooden barrels, and other wood products (Including, I am pround to say, several very strong crutches). Sadly, the EU dwarves currently had no raw wood to offer.
-Workshops for the textile industry being built for when the new farmland is ready.
-Macropus has been given the noble duty of "bookeeper," ensuring that we have a proper inventory of our items. Cons: lots of paperwork and poring over musty tomes. Pros: a nicer room for the Macropus/Xeen life partner duo.
-Yes, it is still raining goblin blood.
No, seriously the goblin bloon-rain has gotten out of control.
Mid Winter 131
-There are Coyotes and Honey Badgers on the prowl. The gate has been sealed for now... However once the portal is safe, I will begin laying cage-traps outside in an effort to capture these wily creatures and build them into the fort's defenses.
131 YEAR IN REVIEW:
-Fortress Established
-No casualties.
-Friendly relations with all neighbors.
-Food/Booze levels are A-OK.
-Wood stockpile is getting low (though certainly not critical)
Spring 132 HAPPY NEW YEAR!
-The Turkey Eggs have hatched, and there are now 25+ baby turkeys.
-More puppies born. I should train some of them to be hunting/war dogs (Life is the only skilled animal trainer, but I'm concerned that he'll sadistically train them to maim but not kill).
Here's a new year's update on the newly installed farming/textile/turkey industries:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
It's a new year, so it seems like a good time to post an update, and take a break for the night.
(click to show/hide)
Early Spring, 132
-A lone camel has approached the gates.
-It voluntarily climbed down into the goblin blood pit for some fiendish and indecipherable purpose.
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-The Dwarven Outpost Liason approaches, likely to offer trade terms, but I dare not Open The Gate whilst this fell beast stalks the entrance.
NEW IMMIGRANTS!
-Dynamike has nearly finished making beds for all of the new immigrants.
-Jona and Kamikaze have been given "stone smoothing" duty, and have set to work prettying-up the fort's rooms and hallways. (After they have proven their skills, they will be allowed to carve engravings wherever they please. I look forward to their artistic efforts).
-The farms have been expanded so they will produce the materials needed for the textile industry.
-The textile industry is currently being expanded as well, and now boasts 3 weavers (Tydeus, Forsvar, HarryCrumb) as well as 3 clothes makers (Vengt, Witchcraft, Screaming Idiot).
-Sandy has set about his new Cheffing duties with zeal (his first meal was a literal masterpiece).
-Daruvian is no longer a miner, and is now able to set about his life's work: The production of doors (he has an infinitely repeating work order for stone doors, and will never do anything else until the day that he dies).
-San has formed our very first militia! It consists of Him, Phoenix, ptx, and Rhuarc. I made the mistake of letting him choose his squad's name:
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San_Of_The_Attics_Of_Trading has joined the battle.
Late Spring 132
-I grow concerned over fortress security. A trade caravan is supposed to be arriving soon (bearing a desperately needed load of logs) so I am obliged to leave the front gate wide open.
-The Attics of Trading, are training hard, but they don't have any weapons to repel invaders.
-I have ordered a pair of cage traps to be installed in the area outside of the gate. (Perhaps we can capture and learn their secret plot).
Current Defenses:
This post has gotten really long, so I'm going to end it here. Also the sun is in my eye and I'm getting hungry.
REVIEW: A mixed bag.
-We are desperately low on logs (fewer than 10, thanks to all the beds we had to make)
-We are utterly defenseless.
-The stage has been set for massive clothing production, once the crops come in.
-Camels have not been sighted in a long time (this is either very good or very bad).
The main floor:
-A lone camel has approached the gates.
-It voluntarily climbed down into the goblin blood pit for some fiendish and indecipherable purpose.
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-The Dwarven Outpost Liason approaches, likely to offer trade terms, but I dare not Open The Gate whilst this fell beast stalks the entrance.
NEW IMMIGRANTS!
(click to show/hide)
Bernie - Has no productive skills at all. He prefers to eat anchovies, and has a natural ear for music.
BigSandwich - Yet another farmer skilled in Milking and Butchery. When he gets exasperated, he often points and shakes his finger.
Bulzur - An architect who will help us design fancy workshops. She is immodest, and loves swans for their beauty.
Dynamike - A carpenter who will be taking over for Tanken. She is tough but she is quite clumsy.
Forsvar - Another useless fisherman. His very long moustache is arranged in double braids.
HarryCrumb - Nominally a fisherman, he has a surprising knack for armor, shields, and spears. She is corpulent. She needs alcohol to get through the working day.
HESKEYTIME - Another farmhand. She has a broad body with little fat. She absolutely detests lizards.
HungryNBroke - An unskilled peasant. He is small. His very long sideburns are neatly combed.
Jona - He is very skilled at cleaning fish. (Not catching or dissecting, mind you-- Only cleaning). He likes goats for their eating habits.
Kafein - Both a farmer AND a fisherman! She prefers to consume one-humped camel's milk (Sorry, the camels in this are are both two-humped and plotting our demise.)
KaMiKaZe - A cheesemaker. She likes Alpacas for their long necks, and lizards for their beauty.
Legs - A skilled mason, stone detailer, and gemcutter (FINALLY SOMEONE USEFUL!). He likes Leopard Gecko Men for their amazing sticky feet.
Lemon - Another goddamn farmer. He does not actively seek friendships and is incredibly distant and reserved. He enjoys the company of others. (Wait, what?)
Noodles - Metalcrafter. He is married to RJ. He is the son of Rhalzo. He absolutely detests mussels. (I only just now noticed the family stuff. I'll start adding in those details now)
Phoenix - A farmer and potash maker. She is married to WITCHCRAFT She likes sheep for their tendency to flock.
ptx - An animal caretaker. He is married to bulzur. When possible, he prefers to eat Panda.
Rhalzo - Another animal caretaker. She is married to Screaming idiot and has several children (Noodles is the only one in game). She is incredibly muscular. She just wants to tell you guys that you're doing a great job.
Rhuarc - Another goddamn fisherman. He likes yaks for their shaggy hair.
RJ - A skilled leatherworker and beekeeper. She is married to Noddles. Her nose is broad. She tends to stretch her body when thinking.
Sandy - Good at carving bones, and remarkably good at cooking. He is married to Wolfsblood. He occasionally overindulges. He often does the first thing that comes to mind.
Screaming idiot - Fisherman. He is married to Rhalzo and is Noodle's dad. He likes cats for their aloofness.
SMEGMAR - A skilled Gem Setter. She is married to Legs. She absolutely detests purring maggots (the status of normal maggots is unknown).
Switch - A Weaponsmith (YES!). She is married to Jona. She is very skinny. She likes cows for their haunting moos.
WITHCRAFT - A veterinarian. He is married to Phoenix. He likes giant capybaras for their graceful swimming.
Wolfsblood - An incredibly gifted pump operator. She is married to Sandy. She has a thin body with very little fat. She absolutely detests leeches.
BigSandwich - Yet another farmer skilled in Milking and Butchery. When he gets exasperated, he often points and shakes his finger.
Bulzur - An architect who will help us design fancy workshops. She is immodest, and loves swans for their beauty.
Dynamike - A carpenter who will be taking over for Tanken. She is tough but she is quite clumsy.
Forsvar - Another useless fisherman. His very long moustache is arranged in double braids.
HarryCrumb - Nominally a fisherman, he has a surprising knack for armor, shields, and spears. She is corpulent. She needs alcohol to get through the working day.
HESKEYTIME - Another farmhand. She has a broad body with little fat. She absolutely detests lizards.
HungryNBroke - An unskilled peasant. He is small. His very long sideburns are neatly combed.
Jona - He is very skilled at cleaning fish. (Not catching or dissecting, mind you-- Only cleaning). He likes goats for their eating habits.
Kafein - Both a farmer AND a fisherman! She prefers to consume one-humped camel's milk (Sorry, the camels in this are are both two-humped and plotting our demise.)
KaMiKaZe - A cheesemaker. She likes Alpacas for their long necks, and lizards for their beauty.
Legs - A skilled mason, stone detailer, and gemcutter (FINALLY SOMEONE USEFUL!). He likes Leopard Gecko Men for their amazing sticky feet.
Lemon - Another goddamn farmer. He does not actively seek friendships and is incredibly distant and reserved. He enjoys the company of others. (Wait, what?)
Noodles - Metalcrafter. He is married to RJ. He is the son of Rhalzo. He absolutely detests mussels. (I only just now noticed the family stuff. I'll start adding in those details now)
Phoenix - A farmer and potash maker. She is married to WITCHCRAFT She likes sheep for their tendency to flock.
ptx - An animal caretaker. He is married to bulzur. When possible, he prefers to eat Panda.
Rhalzo - Another animal caretaker. She is married to Screaming idiot and has several children (Noodles is the only one in game). She is incredibly muscular. She just wants to tell you guys that you're doing a great job.
Rhuarc - Another goddamn fisherman. He likes yaks for their shaggy hair.
RJ - A skilled leatherworker and beekeeper. She is married to Noddles. Her nose is broad. She tends to stretch her body when thinking.
Sandy - Good at carving bones, and remarkably good at cooking. He is married to Wolfsblood. He occasionally overindulges. He often does the first thing that comes to mind.
Screaming idiot - Fisherman. He is married to Rhalzo and is Noodle's dad. He likes cats for their aloofness.
SMEGMAR - A skilled Gem Setter. She is married to Legs. She absolutely detests purring maggots (the status of normal maggots is unknown).
Switch - A Weaponsmith (YES!). She is married to Jona. She is very skinny. She likes cows for their haunting moos.
WITHCRAFT - A veterinarian. He is married to Phoenix. He likes giant capybaras for their graceful swimming.
Wolfsblood - An incredibly gifted pump operator. She is married to Sandy. She has a thin body with very little fat. She absolutely detests leeches.
-Dynamike has nearly finished making beds for all of the new immigrants.
-Jona and Kamikaze have been given "stone smoothing" duty, and have set to work prettying-up the fort's rooms and hallways. (After they have proven their skills, they will be allowed to carve engravings wherever they please. I look forward to their artistic efforts).
-The farms have been expanded so they will produce the materials needed for the textile industry.
-The textile industry is currently being expanded as well, and now boasts 3 weavers (Tydeus, Forsvar, HarryCrumb) as well as 3 clothes makers (Vengt, Witchcraft, Screaming Idiot).
-Sandy has set about his new Cheffing duties with zeal (his first meal was a literal masterpiece).
-Daruvian is no longer a miner, and is now able to set about his life's work: The production of doors (he has an infinitely repeating work order for stone doors, and will never do anything else until the day that he dies).
-San has formed our very first militia! It consists of Him, Phoenix, ptx, and Rhuarc. I made the mistake of letting him choose his squad's name:
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San_Of_The_Attics_Of_Trading has joined the battle.
Late Spring 132
-I grow concerned over fortress security. A trade caravan is supposed to be arriving soon (bearing a desperately needed load of logs) so I am obliged to leave the front gate wide open.
-The Attics of Trading, are training hard, but they don't have any weapons to repel invaders.
-I have ordered a pair of cage traps to be installed in the area outside of the gate. (Perhaps we can capture and learn their secret plot).
Current Defenses:
This post has gotten really long, so I'm going to end it here. Also the sun is in my eye and I'm getting hungry.
REVIEW: A mixed bag.
-We are desperately low on logs (fewer than 10, thanks to all the beds we had to make)
-We are utterly defenseless.
-The stage has been set for massive clothing production, once the crops come in.
-Camels have not been sighted in a long time (this is either very good or very bad).
The main floor:
(click to show/hide)
Late Spring 132
-An Elven caravan has arrived. Tanken has been dispatched to bargain (you can jump-spin-negotiate, right?).
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-We have secured 31 logs, as well as several buckets, barrels, and other odds and ends for a pittance. Apparently these elves admire Testi's craftsmanship.
-Most importantly, they had several cages available for trade. The Camel-Traps are being expanded greatly.
Early Summer 132
Two strange events occurred. First of all:
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But we'll have to put Taser's possession on hold until we can deal with this:
That's right, ptx died of thirst in the very doorway that leads you to the dining hall.
HarryCrumb, meanwhile, died of thirst in her husbands arms. Good job, Hungry.
There are ample supplied of liquor, beer, and wine. These deaths are beyond suspicious.
In any event, the tragedy has reminded me that I need to build wells. I am building caskets for a fitting memorial.
Back to Taser: He has barricaded himself in his room, and is just sitting there. I guess I'll hav--WAIT WHAT THE FUCK
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WHYYYY? WE HAVE PLENTY OF BOOZE!
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Citizens dying of thirst for no apparent reason.
Have the camels finally struck?
Does it have something to do with the CONSTANT RAIN OF GOBLIN BLOOD?
What will become of our fair city??!
STAY TUNED TO FINE OUT! SAME BAT-TIME, SAME BAT-CHANNEL.
(I'm absolutely starving, and need to cook dinner IRL lest I go the way of these dwarves. Next update will be in a couple hours.)
-An Elven caravan has arrived. Tanken has been dispatched to bargain (you can jump-spin-negotiate, right?).
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-We have secured 31 logs, as well as several buckets, barrels, and other odds and ends for a pittance. Apparently these elves admire Testi's craftsmanship.
-Most importantly, they had several cages available for trade. The Camel-Traps are being expanded greatly.
Early Summer 132
Two strange events occurred. First of all:
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But we'll have to put Taser's possession on hold until we can deal with this:
That's right, ptx died of thirst in the very doorway that leads you to the dining hall.
HarryCrumb, meanwhile, died of thirst in her husbands arms. Good job, Hungry.
There are ample supplied of liquor, beer, and wine. These deaths are beyond suspicious.
In any event, the tragedy has reminded me that I need to build wells. I am building caskets for a fitting memorial.
Back to Taser: He has barricaded himself in his room, and is just sitting there. I guess I'll hav--WAIT WHAT THE FUCK
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WHYYYY? WE HAVE PLENTY OF BOOZE!
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Citizens dying of thirst for no apparent reason.
Have the camels finally struck?
Does it have something to do with the CONSTANT RAIN OF GOBLIN BLOOD?
What will become of our fair city??!
STAY TUNED TO FINE OUT! SAME BAT-TIME, SAME BAT-CHANNEL.
(I'm absolutely starving, and need to cook dinner IRL lest I go the way of these dwarves. Next update will be in a couple hours.)
(click to show/hide)
RE: "Which gfx pack are you using" The is the Phoebus tileset from the latest Lazy Noob Pack.
Summer 132
It has been a month since the "Dry Lip Blues" (as it has come to be called) caused 5 dwarves to commit suicide-by-dehydration. I am happy to report that a second well has been constructed, and there have been no more casualties.
Sandy is preparing a month of "Lavish Meals" for a month long memorial feast. (The pantry is filled with turkey eggs, mushrooms, and wheat flour, so I have no idea of what he's going to cook)
There's something strange afoot.
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Several citizens have taken to hoarding socks in their room.
I'm not sure why. I suspect that they have been worn out. Fortunately, the clothing industry just received its first shipment of raw cloth, so replacement socks will be available soon (vengt, the only clothesmaker not to succumb to the Dry Lip Blues, will have a busy month indeed).
Observant readers will note that many bedrooms are still without a proper door. There are no doors in the stockpiles. Goddamnit Daruvian you had one job.
MORE IMMIGRANTS
-Kaoklai has been set to work as a clothesmaker (he's actually pretty good at it). He will be joined by SMEGMAR, who lost his job as a gemsetter to the far superior Hirlok.
-chadz been given a pick, and is now a miner. Strike the earth!
-Chosen1, Clockworkkiller, isatis, James, Panos and Thranduil have all "volunteered" to join The Attic of Trading.
-HardRice narrowly escaped conscription due to his natural farming ability.
There is a temporary shortage of beds so several of the newcomers will have to sleep wherever they fall, until more beds can be produced.
I am also proud to announce that work has begun on a project to honor victims of the recent tragedy.
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Stay classy, James.
Gonna post this little update and get back to work!
Summer 132
It has been a month since the "Dry Lip Blues" (as it has come to be called) caused 5 dwarves to commit suicide-by-dehydration. I am happy to report that a second well has been constructed, and there have been no more casualties.
Sandy is preparing a month of "Lavish Meals" for a month long memorial feast. (The pantry is filled with turkey eggs, mushrooms, and wheat flour, so I have no idea of what he's going to cook)
There's something strange afoot.
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Several citizens have taken to hoarding socks in their room.
I'm not sure why. I suspect that they have been worn out. Fortunately, the clothing industry just received its first shipment of raw cloth, so replacement socks will be available soon (vengt, the only clothesmaker not to succumb to the Dry Lip Blues, will have a busy month indeed).
Observant readers will note that many bedrooms are still without a proper door. There are no doors in the stockpiles. Goddamnit Daruvian you had one job.
MORE IMMIGRANTS
(click to show/hide)
chadz - An unskilled peasant. She is married to Panos. She is very fat. She absolutely detests fire snakes.
Chosen1 - Another fisherman. She is married to James. She has much fat on a very thin frame. Her hair is clean shaven.
Clockworkkiller - Yet another fisherman! He is the son of DrTaco and Taser. When he gets excited, it's easy to tell because he drums his fingers.
HardRice - Lumberjack. She is married to kaoklai. She likes reindeer for their large herds.
Hirlok - An exceptionally gifted gem setter who also makes decent cheese. She likes kangaroos for their pouches. She finds rules confining.
Isatis - Butcher. He is married to Thranduil. He is completely uninterested in conversations and debates over intellectual issues. He absolutely detests bats.
James - A butcher/fisherman/wood burner. He is married to Chosen1. He likes desert tortoises for their longevity. He taps his feet when there's a lull in conversation.
kaoklai - He is married to Chosen1. He is candid and sincere in dealings with others. When possible, he prefers to consume giant lion.
Panos - Shearer. He is married to chadz. He is often sad and dejected. He is often cheerful. He absolutely detests 2hers.
Thranduil. She is married to isatis. She is the daughter of Rhuarc. She likes two-humped camel bone. She lives for risk and excitement. She is highly adventurous and loves fresh experiences. (I'm almost certainly going to put her to work as a camel hunter for this profile.)
Chosen1 - Another fisherman. She is married to James. She has much fat on a very thin frame. Her hair is clean shaven.
Clockworkkiller - Yet another fisherman! He is the son of DrTaco and Taser. When he gets excited, it's easy to tell because he drums his fingers.
HardRice - Lumberjack. She is married to kaoklai. She likes reindeer for their large herds.
Hirlok - An exceptionally gifted gem setter who also makes decent cheese. She likes kangaroos for their pouches. She finds rules confining.
Isatis - Butcher. He is married to Thranduil. He is completely uninterested in conversations and debates over intellectual issues. He absolutely detests bats.
James - A butcher/fisherman/wood burner. He is married to Chosen1. He likes desert tortoises for their longevity. He taps his feet when there's a lull in conversation.
kaoklai - He is married to Chosen1. He is candid and sincere in dealings with others. When possible, he prefers to consume giant lion.
Panos - Shearer. He is married to chadz. He is often sad and dejected. He is often cheerful. He absolutely detests 2hers.
Thranduil. She is married to isatis. She is the daughter of Rhuarc. She likes two-humped camel bone. She lives for risk and excitement. She is highly adventurous and loves fresh experiences. (I'm almost certainly going to put her to work as a camel hunter for this profile.)
-Kaoklai has been set to work as a clothesmaker (he's actually pretty good at it). He will be joined by SMEGMAR, who lost his job as a gemsetter to the far superior Hirlok.
-chadz been given a pick, and is now a miner. Strike the earth!
-Chosen1, Clockworkkiller, isatis, James, Panos and Thranduil have all "volunteered" to join The Attic of Trading.
-HardRice narrowly escaped conscription due to his natural farming ability.
There is a temporary shortage of beds so several of the newcomers will have to sleep wherever they fall, until more beds can be produced.
I am also proud to announce that work has begun on a project to honor victims of the recent tragedy.
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Stay classy, James.
Gonna post this little update and get back to work!
(click to show/hide)
TASERWATCH 132:
It is midsummer.
Taser is still possessed by some unknown force.
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He is still hiding in the corner of his room. He has yet to leave. His wife, DrTaco, can be seen in the picture. I imagine that she is trying to talk some sense into him... or at least bringing him something to eat.
TASERWATCH UPDATE: The "strange mood" of possession has ended...
The unknown force that took control of Taser seems to have left, taking his very sanity with it and driving him into depression.
This bodes ill.
I'll keep an eye on him and post any relevant updates (All he's doing so far is roaming the hallways, moping. I will bar the doors to the Victims of the Dry Lip Blues Memorial Wellroom if he comes near, to prevent him from committing suicide by drowning in a memorial to those who committed suicide by dehydration.)
I have ordered miners to dig deeper into the earth. Hopefully we can find some metal ores, and begin producing weapons for our soldiers.
Legs has been ordered to spam-produce stone cabinets. Hopefully this will end the "hey lets just throw our socks all over the room" fad that has struck the western wing of the dormitory.
Speaking of clothing, the clothesmakers are up to their eyeballs in fabric, and have started spam-producing dresses, tunics, and cloaks.
The Dry Lip Blues Memorial seems to have done wonders for the dwarves psychology. With the notable exception of Taser, I am no longer worried that anyone is about to snap and go on a murderous rampage. (Phoenix was in the danger zone, but he 'had a nice bath,' and feels much better now (he also washed off all of that horrible goblin blood.)
Noting that Taser particularly enjoys Weapon Stands, I have installed one in his bedroom.
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Cabinets have had little effect on the loose-sock menace.
A human caravan has arrived!
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Look at the top-middle of that picture.
A TWO-HUMPED CAMEL TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THE CARAVAN'S ACCESS AND HAS ENTERED THE FORTRESS! CALL THE ATTIC OF TRADING!
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The militia engages the camel in a bloody action. Unarmed, they can only kick, punch, and bite the animal (or attempt to wrestle it to the ground so that others may kick punch and bite it).
Mind you, this melee is taking place on the trading depot where my very first Human caravan is unloading its goods for trade. Tanken is too busy drinking to come bargain with the humans, so they have nothing else to do but sit and watch the grisly business.
There are pages and pages of combat log that read exactly like this.
After one minute of combat, the militia has successfully knocked out all of the camel's teeth, torn out its tongue, dented and broken every bone in its body, and pretty much turned the Human's trade expedition into a live action torture-porn act.
What's the lesson that we've learned from all of this?
That's right! For the first time in the near 2 years that we've been here, it has stopped raining Gobblin blood. In fact, it has started raining good 'ol fashioned water. The solution is clear: the land must drown in the blood of camels, or the sky will weep an endless hail of goblin blood.
Tanken finally arrives at the trading depot, trying desperately to ignore the stirring in his loins that the grisly scene brings on.
Motivated by sympathy and something called "the humane thing to do," (???) the humans have given us favorable trading terms for an assortment of weaponry.
EARLY AUTUMN 132
The battle rages, and the militia has made no further progress in slaying the beast.
It has started raining goblin blood.
TASERWATCH 132:
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He is survived by his wife, DrTaco and his son, Clockworkkiller.
Clockworkkiller is taking it badly. He has a happiness rating of 0.
This bodes ill.
It is midsummer.
Taser is still possessed by some unknown force.
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He is still hiding in the corner of his room. He has yet to leave. His wife, DrTaco, can be seen in the picture. I imagine that she is trying to talk some sense into him... or at least bringing him something to eat.
TASERWATCH UPDATE: The "strange mood" of possession has ended...
The unknown force that took control of Taser seems to have left, taking his very sanity with it and driving him into depression.
This bodes ill.
I'll keep an eye on him and post any relevant updates (All he's doing so far is roaming the hallways, moping. I will bar the doors to the Victims of the Dry Lip Blues Memorial Wellroom if he comes near, to prevent him from committing suicide by drowning in a memorial to those who committed suicide by dehydration.)
I have ordered miners to dig deeper into the earth. Hopefully we can find some metal ores, and begin producing weapons for our soldiers.
Legs has been ordered to spam-produce stone cabinets. Hopefully this will end the "hey lets just throw our socks all over the room" fad that has struck the western wing of the dormitory.
Speaking of clothing, the clothesmakers are up to their eyeballs in fabric, and have started spam-producing dresses, tunics, and cloaks.
The Dry Lip Blues Memorial seems to have done wonders for the dwarves psychology. With the notable exception of Taser, I am no longer worried that anyone is about to snap and go on a murderous rampage. (Phoenix was in the danger zone, but he 'had a nice bath,' and feels much better now (he also washed off all of that horrible goblin blood.)
Noting that Taser particularly enjoys Weapon Stands, I have installed one in his bedroom.
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Cabinets have had little effect on the loose-sock menace.
A human caravan has arrived!
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Look at the top-middle of that picture.
A TWO-HUMPED CAMEL TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THE CARAVAN'S ACCESS AND HAS ENTERED THE FORTRESS! CALL THE ATTIC OF TRADING!
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
The militia engages the camel in a bloody action. Unarmed, they can only kick, punch, and bite the animal (or attempt to wrestle it to the ground so that others may kick punch and bite it).
Mind you, this melee is taking place on the trading depot where my very first Human caravan is unloading its goods for trade. Tanken is too busy drinking to come bargain with the humans, so they have nothing else to do but sit and watch the grisly business.
There are pages and pages of combat log that read exactly like this.
After one minute of combat, the militia has successfully knocked out all of the camel's teeth, torn out its tongue, dented and broken every bone in its body, and pretty much turned the Human's trade expedition into a live action torture-porn act.
What's the lesson that we've learned from all of this?
(click to show/hide)
That's right! For the first time in the near 2 years that we've been here, it has stopped raining Gobblin blood. In fact, it has started raining good 'ol fashioned water. The solution is clear: the land must drown in the blood of camels, or the sky will weep an endless hail of goblin blood.
Tanken finally arrives at the trading depot, trying desperately to ignore the stirring in his loins that the grisly scene brings on.
Motivated by sympathy and something called "the humane thing to do," (???) the humans have given us favorable trading terms for an assortment of weaponry.
EARLY AUTUMN 132
The battle rages, and the militia has made no further progress in slaying the beast.
It has started raining goblin blood.
TASERWATCH 132:
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He is survived by his wife, DrTaco and his son, Clockworkkiller.
Clockworkkiller is taking it badly. He has a happiness rating of 0.
This bodes ill.
(click to show/hide)
EARLY AUTUMN 132:
The militia is clearly incapable of defeating this camel. I have temporarily de-activated The Attics of Trading to give them time to rest and recover.
I decided to check on the deep mines, hoping to find a hoard of unearthed gems, minerals, and ores.
I was met with an empty mineshaft that the miners simply stopped digging.
Answers came quickly:
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After the party ended, the miners got back to work with renewed effort. It didn't take them long to hit paydirt:
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An underground cavern should provide an insane amount of gems, silk, and general wealth. There may also be "complications" with the cavern's inhabitants, but that's what the militia is for, right?
Speaking of the militia, it's time to outfit them with some proper armor. I bought a bunch of leather from the humans, and have tasked RJ with the production ofBDSM gear militia equipment.
In classic cRPG fashion, the mention of "BDSM gear" has brought more players out of the woodwork. Another immigrant wave has arrived:
With the discovery of an underground cavern, we're going to want a larger military presence. Sugar will join the Attics of Trading to complete the squad, and the other 10 will be drafted into a crossbow squad.
The Ignites Lances
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As per finely establish tradition, newcomers will have to sleep on the floor until dynamike gets off his ass and makes some goddamn beds.
NOBLES AND PROMOTIONS:
I had forgotten that I need to assign more nobles.
Tydeus has been appointed the Chief Medical Dwarf.
Canary has been appointed the Sheriff.
Accordingly, I will have to build specialized housing for the Nobility.
CAMEL ALERT
Shana has proven himself to be a legendary warrior, using his crossbow to produce this:
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Withing minutes of arriving at the fortress, Shana has done the impossible. He has killed a camel. Furthermore, he is dragging its corpse into the bowels of the fortress so we can butcher and eat it.
Well done, Shana.
For your skill at arms and remarkably lethal instincts, I will grant you the noble title, "Hammerer: The fortress executioner."
Noble rooms are under construction. Meanwhile...
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She has claimed the metalsmith's forge and sets about a mysterious creation.
WINTER 132
HUZZAH!!
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Mae's strange mood inspired her to create a legendary crossbow. It is covered with wooden spikes for maximum ease of use.
As soon as I draft a unit of crossbowmen, with the express purpose of exploring the deep caverns, we are blessed with a legendary crossbow. Clearly, this is a sign from the gods to recklessly expand into the unknown depths.
I'm tired so let's wrap it up for the night.
A YEAR IN REVIEW:
-The Dry Lip Blues claimed 6 lives.
-Massive economic expansion.
-One camel horribly brutalized (beaten over a span of 3 months, and limped away on its broken feet/hooves/legs/etc.
-One camel successfully slain (crossbow bolt through the brain).
-Food stores: Glorious
-Booze stores: Glorious
-Weapon stores: so-so
-Armor stores: BDSM gear
-Happiest dwarf: DrTaco (626) (Had a baby recently, which outweighs the sadness of Taser's passing)
-Angriest dwarf: Thranduil (57) (Complained about the lack of chairs lately, has been bothered by flies)
Main Floor:
Main Floor2 (Workshops):
Main Gate:
The militia is clearly incapable of defeating this camel. I have temporarily de-activated The Attics of Trading to give them time to rest and recover.
I decided to check on the deep mines, hoping to find a hoard of unearthed gems, minerals, and ores.
I was met with an empty mineshaft that the miners simply stopped digging.
Answers came quickly:
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After the party ended, the miners got back to work with renewed effort. It didn't take them long to hit paydirt:
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An underground cavern should provide an insane amount of gems, silk, and general wealth. There may also be "complications" with the cavern's inhabitants, but that's what the militia is for, right?
Speaking of the militia, it's time to outfit them with some proper armor. I bought a bunch of leather from the humans, and have tasked RJ with the production of
In classic cRPG fashion, the mention of "BDSM gear" has brought more players out of the woodwork. Another immigrant wave has arrived:
(click to show/hide)
Agile - A child who has not yet come of age (I'm astounded it's taken this long for children to show up). He is the son of Taser and DrTaco. He is six days old. He needs alcohol to make it through the working day.
BlackWhite - A hunter with a knack for candlemaking. He is married to Carac. His somewhat tall ears are extraordinarily broad. He chews his lips when he is nervous.
Canary - A Gemcrafter. She is married to SugarHoe. She is very quick to anger. She doesn't like to compromise with others. She likes geese for their formation flying.
Carac - An unskilled peasant. She is married to BlackWhite. She is scrawny. She likes prickleberries for their precise needles.
CONQUEEFADOR - A glass blower. She is married to Gallonaigher. She is weak. She likes donkeys for their stubbornness.
Gallonaigher - A stonecrafter. He is married to CONQUEEFADOR. He likes the color pale chestnut. He would never let an objective judgment be tempered by mercy or pity.
Jack1 - A fish dissector. He is married to SoftJuicyMango. He is clumsy. He likes water buffalo for their water wallowing.
Mae - A smelter/smith. She is married to Sauce (I didn't set that up). She is very fat. She is given to flights of fancy. She absolutely detests toads.
Sauce - A furnace operator. He is married to Mae. His very long sideburns are braided. When possible, he prefers to consume bumblebee mead and Longland Flour. He likes bogeymen for their terror-inspiring antics.
Shana - A hunter/fish dissector. He has a very distinct laugh for when he's excited. He has very low cheekbones and his ears have very small lobes.
SoftJuicyMango - An animal caretaker. She is married to Jack1. She likes mango trees for their sweet smelling flowers (I did not arrange for this... the game knows). She absolutely detests hamsters.
SugarHoe - A ranger. He is married to Canary. He is married but he is quick to tire. He likes alpacas for their resemblance to a miniature llama. He has a fertile imagination.
BlackWhite - A hunter with a knack for candlemaking. He is married to Carac. His somewhat tall ears are extraordinarily broad. He chews his lips when he is nervous.
Canary - A Gemcrafter. She is married to SugarHoe. She is very quick to anger. She doesn't like to compromise with others. She likes geese for their formation flying.
Carac - An unskilled peasant. She is married to BlackWhite. She is scrawny. She likes prickleberries for their precise needles.
CONQUEEFADOR - A glass blower. She is married to Gallonaigher. She is weak. She likes donkeys for their stubbornness.
Gallonaigher - A stonecrafter. He is married to CONQUEEFADOR. He likes the color pale chestnut. He would never let an objective judgment be tempered by mercy or pity.
Jack1 - A fish dissector. He is married to SoftJuicyMango. He is clumsy. He likes water buffalo for their water wallowing.
Mae - A smelter/smith. She is married to Sauce (I didn't set that up). She is very fat. She is given to flights of fancy. She absolutely detests toads.
Sauce - A furnace operator. He is married to Mae. His very long sideburns are braided. When possible, he prefers to consume bumblebee mead and Longland Flour. He likes bogeymen for their terror-inspiring antics.
Shana - A hunter/fish dissector. He has a very distinct laugh for when he's excited. He has very low cheekbones and his ears have very small lobes.
SoftJuicyMango - An animal caretaker. She is married to Jack1. She likes mango trees for their sweet smelling flowers (I did not arrange for this... the game knows). She absolutely detests hamsters.
SugarHoe - A ranger. He is married to Canary. He is married but he is quick to tire. He likes alpacas for their resemblance to a miniature llama. He has a fertile imagination.
With the discovery of an underground cavern, we're going to want a larger military presence. Sugar will join the Attics of Trading to complete the squad, and the other 10 will be drafted into a crossbow squad.
The Ignites Lances
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As per finely establish tradition, newcomers will have to sleep on the floor until dynamike gets off his ass and makes some goddamn beds.
NOBLES AND PROMOTIONS:
I had forgotten that I need to assign more nobles.
Tydeus has been appointed the Chief Medical Dwarf.
Canary has been appointed the Sheriff.
Accordingly, I will have to build specialized housing for the Nobility.
CAMEL ALERT
Shana has proven himself to be a legendary warrior, using his crossbow to produce this:
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Withing minutes of arriving at the fortress, Shana has done the impossible. He has killed a camel. Furthermore, he is dragging its corpse into the bowels of the fortress so we can butcher and eat it.
Well done, Shana.
For your skill at arms and remarkably lethal instincts, I will grant you the noble title, "Hammerer: The fortress executioner."
Noble rooms are under construction. Meanwhile...
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She has claimed the metalsmith's forge and sets about a mysterious creation.
WINTER 132
HUZZAH!!
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Mae's strange mood inspired her to create a legendary crossbow. It is covered with wooden spikes for maximum ease of use.
As soon as I draft a unit of crossbowmen, with the express purpose of exploring the deep caverns, we are blessed with a legendary crossbow. Clearly, this is a sign from the gods to recklessly expand into the unknown depths.
I'm tired so let's wrap it up for the night.
A YEAR IN REVIEW:
-The Dry Lip Blues claimed 6 lives.
-Massive economic expansion.
-One camel horribly brutalized (beaten over a span of 3 months, and limped away on its broken feet/hooves/legs/etc.
-One camel successfully slain (crossbow bolt through the brain).
-Food stores: Glorious
-Booze stores: Glorious
-Weapon stores: so-so
-Armor stores: BDSM gear
-Happiest dwarf: DrTaco (626) (Had a baby recently, which outweighs the sadness of Taser's passing)
-Angriest dwarf: Thranduil (57) (Complained about the lack of chairs lately, has been bothered by flies)
Main Floor:
Main Floor2 (Workshops):
Main Gate:
(click to show/hide)
Greetings!
I finally tracked down one of Sandy's culinary masterpieces, so I decided we should start this post with a light snack.
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Sandy, can you give me the recipe some time? From what I've been able to figure out, you have to:
1. Mince some mushrooms.
2. Mince some ale.
3. Mince some syrup.
4. Mince some more syrup.
5. ???
6. Roast, serve, and enjoy.
EARLY SPRING 133 - HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
Word has spread of our mighty bastion of cRPG spergdom. Unfortunately, the word has spread to the gobblins. They have begun sending thieves, spies, and infiltrators to determine whether or not they should launch a full on siege.
Our spike traps captured two of them, and I have devised a way to put them to work.
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They will serve as live action target dummies.
The successful capture of goblin spies has shown me the value of cage traps, and I have greatly expanded the Cage'n'Capture program. One of the new traps very nearly captured a Rattlesnake. Needless to say, Rattlesnakes would make an excellent addition to fortress defense/criminal deterrent initiatives.
EXECUTION ATTEMPT #1: BENNY HILL
I dropped the first goblin into the target range, and ordered the crossbowmen to kill it. However, I forgot that I didn't have any ammo stockpiled, so they couldn't do anything worse than glare at the poor creature.
Rather than leave a potential threat only partially secured, I ordered the Attics of Trading into the room to finish the job. The goblin, seeing a chance at freedom, made a mad dash out of the room (somehow passing through a narrow hallway filled with 15 soldiers), grabbed a dagger from the armory and made his escape.
He outran the dwarves to the main gate and would have gotten away scott free except for one minor consideration: guard dogs.
The dogs nibbled on his legs enough to slow him down, and he made it perhaps 100 yards wasteland (adding his own goblin blood to the already impressive deluge) before Chosen1 caught up to him and delivered the coup de grace.
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I have started stockpiling ammunition so that future goblin executions are much more efficient.
MORE IMMIGRANTS!
We've got a bunch of metalworkers now, but no metal to work with. Once I put these new immigrants to work (and put them to bed) We can begin to probe the unknown depths of the cavern.
I was going to let Phew continue his work as a miner, but he is an outstanding Gemcutter, and has replaced Legs in that capacity. Legs can now focus on cabinetmaking full time.
There are three picks in the stockpile, which means we have room for 3 miners. MrPink, Dazed, and Thryn have been chosen for this honor.
Bronto will become our official beekeeper, and will provide Jedae wax for candlemaking.
Devilize is good at organizing things, so I have given him the Noble Rank of Manager. He will coordinate production across all sectors of the economy.
Zan will join Jona and Kamikaze as stone smoothers/detailers. Incidentally, Jona and Kamikaze have started making some wonderful engravings for noble bedrooms (more on this later, possibly in another post.)
Vebb and Oohilac will be in charge of dyeing cloth and string for the textile industry.
Tretter and Huseby will help process plants into useable materials.
Carthan and Chestaclese have been tasked with operating the furnaces and producing charcoal for our upcoming metal industry.
TearsOfDestiny will be a general item-hauler, until such a time as we can use his Animal Training ability on captured Rattlesnakes.
Butan will be joining the farmers.
Relit will become a mason, and assist in the glorious production of stone doors.
Artyem will join the medical staff.
To ensure that Arty has real work to do, Dionysus, Packer, Chucky, Tormund, Eggo, and Smithy have been formed into a reserve militia squad under the command of Rotfeast.
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They have no arms or armor (and are at the bottom of a very long waiting list) so I predict that The Rough Caverns will only be minimally effective in combat.
That damn immigrant wave disrupted my cave-exploration plans, which will be put off until the next chapter.
I finally tracked down one of Sandy's culinary masterpieces, so I decided we should start this post with a light snack.
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Sandy, can you give me the recipe some time? From what I've been able to figure out, you have to:
1. Mince some mushrooms.
2. Mince some ale.
3. Mince some syrup.
4. Mince some more syrup.
5. ???
6. Roast, serve, and enjoy.
EARLY SPRING 133 - HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
Word has spread of our mighty bastion of cRPG spergdom. Unfortunately, the word has spread to the gobblins. They have begun sending thieves, spies, and infiltrators to determine whether or not they should launch a full on siege.
Our spike traps captured two of them, and I have devised a way to put them to work.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
They will serve as live action target dummies.
The successful capture of goblin spies has shown me the value of cage traps, and I have greatly expanded the Cage'n'Capture program. One of the new traps very nearly captured a Rattlesnake. Needless to say, Rattlesnakes would make an excellent addition to fortress defense/criminal deterrent initiatives.
EXECUTION ATTEMPT #1: BENNY HILL
I dropped the first goblin into the target range, and ordered the crossbowmen to kill it. However, I forgot that I didn't have any ammo stockpiled, so they couldn't do anything worse than glare at the poor creature.
Rather than leave a potential threat only partially secured, I ordered the Attics of Trading into the room to finish the job. The goblin, seeing a chance at freedom, made a mad dash out of the room (somehow passing through a narrow hallway filled with 15 soldiers), grabbed a dagger from the armory and made his escape.
He outran the dwarves to the main gate and would have gotten away scott free except for one minor consideration: guard dogs.
The dogs nibbled on his legs enough to slow him down, and he made it perhaps 100 yards wasteland (adding his own goblin blood to the already impressive deluge) before Chosen1 caught up to him and delivered the coup de grace.
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I have started stockpiling ammunition so that future goblin executions are much more efficient.
MORE IMMIGRANTS!
(click to show/hide)
Zan - A Nut Presser. He is married to Tormund. He is incredibly skinny. His skin is pale pink. He needs alcohol to make it through the working day.
McDeath - A blacksmith. She is Goretooth's mother. Her head is somewhat short. She likes leech men for their feeding habits.
Brontosaurus - An excellent beekeeper. He is married to Jedae. His very long hair is tied in a pony tail. He stomps his feat repeatedly when he's angry.
Dazed - A bonecarver and armorsmith. She is married to Butan. She is incredibly skinny. Her teeth are tangled.
Phew - A miner. She is married to MrPink. Her hooked nose is quite long. She lacks confidence.
Thryn - A fisherman. He is married to Oohilac. He is very muscular. He is occasionally given to procrastination.
Jedae - A bucther/tanner. She is married to Brontosaurus. Her hair is clean shaven. She always scratches her head when she is trying to remember something.
MrPink - A glassblower. He is married to Phew. He is skinny. He likes candlenuts for their nuts.
Vebb - An unskilled peasant. She is married to Devilize. She is skinny. She has a poor ability to manage or understand social repationships, little creativity, and next to no natural musical ability. (I don't think Dwarf Fortress likes you, Vebb)
Oohilac - A spinner/shearer. She is married to Thryn. She is tall. She likes giant sloth bears for their floppy ears.
Tretter - An herbalist. She is mighty, but slow to heal. She is mostly unaware of her own emotions and rarely expresses them.
Carthan - A peasant. He is married to Dionysus. His lips are thin. He likes alpacas for their jutting teeth.
Chestaclese - A bonecarver. She is married to Huseby. Her nose is extremely long. She likes giants for their height.
Devilize - A soapmaker. He is married to Vebb. His eyes are somewhat protruding. He likes winged freaks for their macabre ways.
Dionysus - A fisher/Tanner. She is married to Carthan. She is HardRice's mother. She is very flimsy, slow to heal, and very weak. She absolutely detests moon snails.
Huseby - A plant processor. He is married to Chestaclese. He is the son of DrTaco and Taser. He is tall and muscular. He is self conscious.
TearsOfDestiny - An animal trainer. She is married to Relit. She has a scratchy voice. She likes turkeys for their wattles.
Butan - A farmer/miller/brewer. He is married to Dazed. He is muscular and fat. He likes chickens for their scratching.
Chucky - A doctor/weaponsmith. She has a round chin. When possible, she prefers to consume sewer brew.
EggoWaffle - A siege engineer. She is married to Artyem. She is skinny. She likes Platypus Men for their bizarre appearance.
Smithy - An animal trapper/caretaker. He is married to Rotfeast. He is wiry. He likes ducks for their quacks.
Artyem - A doctor. He is married to EggoWaffle. He is incredibly tough but clumsy. He likes blind cave ogres for their echoing howls.
Relit - A Mason. He is married to TearsOfDestiny. He is skinny. He likes sasquatches for their reclusive nature.
Packer - An animal trainer/catcher. She is very fat. She likes horseshoe crabs for their ability to hide in sand.
Tormund - A milker/cheesemaker. She is married to Zan. She is fat. She is not easily moved to pity.
Rotfeast - A fisherman. She is married to Smithy. She is incredibly tough. She begins speaking in a monotone whenever she is angry.
Mangler - An adorable little baby. He is the son of SMEGMAR and Legs. He is several months old. His very long moustache is arranged in double braids.
McDeath - A blacksmith. She is Goretooth's mother. Her head is somewhat short. She likes leech men for their feeding habits.
Brontosaurus - An excellent beekeeper. He is married to Jedae. His very long hair is tied in a pony tail. He stomps his feat repeatedly when he's angry.
Dazed - A bonecarver and armorsmith. She is married to Butan. She is incredibly skinny. Her teeth are tangled.
Phew - A miner. She is married to MrPink. Her hooked nose is quite long. She lacks confidence.
Thryn - A fisherman. He is married to Oohilac. He is very muscular. He is occasionally given to procrastination.
Jedae - A bucther/tanner. She is married to Brontosaurus. Her hair is clean shaven. She always scratches her head when she is trying to remember something.
MrPink - A glassblower. He is married to Phew. He is skinny. He likes candlenuts for their nuts.
Vebb - An unskilled peasant. She is married to Devilize. She is skinny. She has a poor ability to manage or understand social repationships, little creativity, and next to no natural musical ability. (I don't think Dwarf Fortress likes you, Vebb)
Oohilac - A spinner/shearer. She is married to Thryn. She is tall. She likes giant sloth bears for their floppy ears.
Tretter - An herbalist. She is mighty, but slow to heal. She is mostly unaware of her own emotions and rarely expresses them.
Carthan - A peasant. He is married to Dionysus. His lips are thin. He likes alpacas for their jutting teeth.
Chestaclese - A bonecarver. She is married to Huseby. Her nose is extremely long. She likes giants for their height.
Devilize - A soapmaker. He is married to Vebb. His eyes are somewhat protruding. He likes winged freaks for their macabre ways.
Dionysus - A fisher/Tanner. She is married to Carthan. She is HardRice's mother. She is very flimsy, slow to heal, and very weak. She absolutely detests moon snails.
Huseby - A plant processor. He is married to Chestaclese. He is the son of DrTaco and Taser. He is tall and muscular. He is self conscious.
TearsOfDestiny - An animal trainer. She is married to Relit. She has a scratchy voice. She likes turkeys for their wattles.
Butan - A farmer/miller/brewer. He is married to Dazed. He is muscular and fat. He likes chickens for their scratching.
Chucky - A doctor/weaponsmith. She has a round chin. When possible, she prefers to consume sewer brew.
EggoWaffle - A siege engineer. She is married to Artyem. She is skinny. She likes Platypus Men for their bizarre appearance.
Smithy - An animal trapper/caretaker. He is married to Rotfeast. He is wiry. He likes ducks for their quacks.
Artyem - A doctor. He is married to EggoWaffle. He is incredibly tough but clumsy. He likes blind cave ogres for their echoing howls.
Relit - A Mason. He is married to TearsOfDestiny. He is skinny. He likes sasquatches for their reclusive nature.
Packer - An animal trainer/catcher. She is very fat. She likes horseshoe crabs for their ability to hide in sand.
Tormund - A milker/cheesemaker. She is married to Zan. She is fat. She is not easily moved to pity.
Rotfeast - A fisherman. She is married to Smithy. She is incredibly tough. She begins speaking in a monotone whenever she is angry.
Mangler - An adorable little baby. He is the son of SMEGMAR and Legs. He is several months old. His very long moustache is arranged in double braids.
We've got a bunch of metalworkers now, but no metal to work with. Once I put these new immigrants to work (and put them to bed) We can begin to probe the unknown depths of the cavern.
I was going to let Phew continue his work as a miner, but he is an outstanding Gemcutter, and has replaced Legs in that capacity. Legs can now focus on cabinetmaking full time.
There are three picks in the stockpile, which means we have room for 3 miners. MrPink, Dazed, and Thryn have been chosen for this honor.
Bronto will become our official beekeeper, and will provide Jedae wax for candlemaking.
Devilize is good at organizing things, so I have given him the Noble Rank of Manager. He will coordinate production across all sectors of the economy.
Zan will join Jona and Kamikaze as stone smoothers/detailers. Incidentally, Jona and Kamikaze have started making some wonderful engravings for noble bedrooms (more on this later, possibly in another post.)
Vebb and Oohilac will be in charge of dyeing cloth and string for the textile industry.
Tretter and Huseby will help process plants into useable materials.
Carthan and Chestaclese have been tasked with operating the furnaces and producing charcoal for our upcoming metal industry.
TearsOfDestiny will be a general item-hauler, until such a time as we can use his Animal Training ability on captured Rattlesnakes.
Butan will be joining the farmers.
Relit will become a mason, and assist in the glorious production of stone doors.
Artyem will join the medical staff.
To ensure that Arty has real work to do, Dionysus, Packer, Chucky, Tormund, Eggo, and Smithy have been formed into a reserve militia squad under the command of Rotfeast.
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They have no arms or armor (and are at the bottom of a very long waiting list) so I predict that The Rough Caverns will only be minimally effective in combat.
That damn immigrant wave disrupted my cave-exploration plans, which will be put off until the next chapter.
(click to show/hide)
I forgot to report that there have been a number of births recently!
"Taser Jr." The Daughter of Life and Penitent Turtler
"ptx Jr." The son of HESKEYTIME and Bernie
"WITCHCRAFT Jr." The son of Phoenix and WITCHCRAFT
"HarryCrumb Jr." The son of RJ and Noodles
"ScreamngIdiotJr" The son of Wolfsblood and Sandy."
(Popular rumor has it that the next child born in our fortress will be named Forsvar Jr., in honor of the last victim of the Dry Lip Blues.)
I have breached the cavern.
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38 levels under the earth, we have discovered rich veins of Copper hidden in the Obsidian.
Testicleez, whose constant stonework has made him a Legendary crafter, will fashion the Obsidian into a vast arsenal of stone swords.
The copper will be smelted into bars, and forged into armor.
We also passed through a thick layer of marble. Once other matters are organized, Daruvian will be given and endless supply of the rare stone for use in doormaking.
The Elves have arrived, bringing much needed wood.
And a Giant Ostrich Hen.
They also brought a Jaguar. Needless to say, the Life-Fire training room has been repurposed as the "Death by Jaguar" execution pit.
...or so I had hoped.
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I dropped the Goblin into the Jaguar's pit, and disaster struck.
I THOUGHT the goblin was unarmed -- He had a Silver Dagger.
I THOUGHT the Jaguar was going to be a fearsome opponent -- It was tame and useless (Must be from Jacksonville).
The Goblin was able to cut the Jaguar's chest open and stab it through the liver before the room was flooded with security Dwarves.
They shot the Goblin full of crossbow bolts. As tradition dictates, the killing blow was dealt with a fist that smashed the skull into the brain (credit to Jack1 for the finishing punch).
The baby turkeys have grown up. All males but 2 have been slaughtered and turned into Lavish Meals, Bone Crossbow Bolts, and RJ's BDSM TurkeyLeather Armor.
We have a new Mayor! Congratulations to Phoenix for this great honor. Your quarters will be ready ASAP
With the completion of some copper armor we're finally re--
MORE GODDAMN IMMIGRANTS FUCK (Mercifully, only 10 this time).
(click to show/hide)
Spaniard: A Lye Maker. She is married to Kesh. She is Tydeus' mother. She has a broad body. She likes spiny dogfish for their dorsal spikes.
Bayushi - A Bonecarver. He has a very skinny body with almost no fat on it. When possible, he prefers to consume cave dragon.
Elindor - A Siege Operator. Her hair is clean shaven. She likes trolls for their terrifying features.
Kesh - A brewer. He is married to Spaniard. He is Tydeus' dad. He has crowded teeth. He absolutely detests worms.
Tyefire - A cheesemaker. She is married to NoodlenRice. She is the mother of Devilize and Legs. Her eyebrows are slightly high. When possible, she prefers to consume squid.
Maple Syrup - A tanner. He is almost never sick. He likes yaks for their shaggy fur
NoodlenRice- An animal caretaker. He is married to Tyefire. He is the father of Devilize and Legs. He is fat. He occasionally overindulges. He absolutely detests bats.
Aldogalus - A siege engineer. He is married to PepeLePew. He enjoys the company of others. He likes guinea fowl for their social nature.
Horns - An adorable little baby. She is the daughter of chadz and Panos. She is one month old. When she becomes exasperated, she begins to speak very deliberately.
PepeLePew - An animal caretaker. She is married to Aldogalus. She is very fat. Her hair is clean shaven. She likes pineapple and rope.
Bayushi - A Bonecarver. He has a very skinny body with almost no fat on it. When possible, he prefers to consume cave dragon.
Elindor - A Siege Operator. Her hair is clean shaven. She likes trolls for their terrifying features.
Kesh - A brewer. He is married to Spaniard. He is Tydeus' dad. He has crowded teeth. He absolutely detests worms.
Tyefire - A cheesemaker. She is married to NoodlenRice. She is the mother of Devilize and Legs. Her eyebrows are slightly high. When possible, she prefers to consume squid.
Maple Syrup - A tanner. He is almost never sick. He likes yaks for their shaggy fur
NoodlenRice- An animal caretaker. He is married to Tyefire. He is the father of Devilize and Legs. He is fat. He occasionally overindulges. He absolutely detests bats.
Aldogalus - A siege engineer. He is married to PepeLePew. He enjoys the company of others. He likes guinea fowl for their social nature.
Horns - An adorable little baby. She is the daughter of chadz and Panos. She is one month old. When she becomes exasperated, she begins to speak very deliberately.
PepeLePew - An animal caretaker. She is married to Aldogalus. She is very fat. Her hair is clean shaven. She likes pineapple and rope.
This is getting ridiculous.
I was hoping to post a grand exploration of the cave, but ran out of time. I'm gonna go make some dinner. Next update will be in a couple hours.
(click to show/hide)
MID SUMMER 133:
Aldo, Noodlenrice, and Pepe have been drafted into The Rough Caverns.
I am proud to announce that our Mason duo of Legs and Daruvian have now produced enough Cabinets and Doors, respectively, that every bedroom has been furnished with one of each. Excess doors are being shipped to the lower mines to establish an airlock against unwelcome guests from the deep.
Speaking of crafting accomplishments...
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McDeath has commandeered the main smithy, and now spends his days SCREAMING DEMANDS FOR ASSORTED METAL BARS, UNCUT GEMS, AND TANNED HIDES.
I have ordered more extensive mining operations, in hopes of acquiring the gems and metal bars.
Also, a cat, dog, turkey, reindeer, water buffalo and piglet are being slaughtered to sate his supernatural lust for exotic leathers.
HE HAS FOUND WHAT HE NEEDS! HE HAS CREATED
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...a hatch door.
...covered with spikes of turkey leather.
...Goddamnit, McDeath.
LATE SUMMER 133:
A human caravan has arrived, bringing another vital shipment of wood. They brought nothing else of interest (doubtless haunted by the memory of their last visit to the fortress).
We have reached the bottom of the cavern, and touched down on a small island in the middle of a vast underground lake.
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The miners and engineers have set about conquering this archipelago and making for solid ground.
Dwarves are encouraged to go fishing in this antediluvian chamber, with the gigglesome reminder that they do so at their own risk.
EARLY AUTUMN 133
Several camels have been captured. I am building a second dining hall where they will be held captive and subjected to ribald comments over dinner.
Maple Syrup and Kesh have joined the stone-smoothing team
MID AUTUMN 133
Nothing new to report. The Camel-Mocking room is nearly complete, thanks to the new smoothing team.
However, the rookie smoothers will not be allowed to engrave until they have studied this exquisite work of art.
The Escorted Honeys
-By Jona
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In cave related news, our engineers continue to search for a safe* way through the body of water.
WE HAVE CAPTURED OUR FIRST SNAKE! FINALLY WE CAN DEFEND THE BASE WITH VENOMOUS ANIMAL TRAPS!
LETS SEE WHAT HE CAN DO!
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Goddamnit.
OH GREAT MORE GODDAMN IMMIGRANTS
...
...
BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!
Aldo, Noodlenrice, and Pepe have been drafted into The Rough Caverns.
I am proud to announce that our Mason duo of Legs and Daruvian have now produced enough Cabinets and Doors, respectively, that every bedroom has been furnished with one of each. Excess doors are being shipped to the lower mines to establish an airlock against unwelcome guests from the deep.
Speaking of crafting accomplishments...
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McDeath has commandeered the main smithy, and now spends his days SCREAMING DEMANDS FOR ASSORTED METAL BARS, UNCUT GEMS, AND TANNED HIDES.
I have ordered more extensive mining operations, in hopes of acquiring the gems and metal bars.
Also, a cat, dog, turkey, reindeer, water buffalo and piglet are being slaughtered to sate his supernatural lust for exotic leathers.
HE HAS FOUND WHAT HE NEEDS! HE HAS CREATED
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...a hatch door.
...covered with spikes of turkey leather.
...Goddamnit, McDeath.
LATE SUMMER 133:
A human caravan has arrived, bringing another vital shipment of wood. They brought nothing else of interest (doubtless haunted by the memory of their last visit to the fortress).
We have reached the bottom of the cavern, and touched down on a small island in the middle of a vast underground lake.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
The miners and engineers have set about conquering this archipelago and making for solid ground.
Dwarves are encouraged to go fishing in this antediluvian chamber, with the gigglesome reminder that they do so at their own risk.
EARLY AUTUMN 133
Several camels have been captured. I am building a second dining hall where they will be held captive and subjected to ribald comments over dinner.
Maple Syrup and Kesh have joined the stone-smoothing team
MID AUTUMN 133
Nothing new to report. The Camel-Mocking room is nearly complete, thanks to the new smoothing team.
However, the rookie smoothers will not be allowed to engrave until they have studied this exquisite work of art.
The Escorted Honeys
-By Jona
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In cave related news, our engineers continue to search for a safe* way through the body of water.
WE HAVE CAPTURED OUR FIRST SNAKE! FINALLY WE CAN DEFEND THE BASE WITH VENOMOUS ANIMAL TRAPS!
LETS SEE WHAT HE CAN DO!
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Goddamnit.
OH GREAT MORE GODDAMN IMMIGRANTS
...
...
BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!
(click to show/hide)
Gotta introduce these immigrants, and then it's time for MINOTAUR FUN!
LATE AUTUMN 133
BORN:
Desire - An adorable little baby. He is the son of Macropus and Xeen. He is 3 months old. He likes crossbows. He is in a constant state of internal rage.
IMMIGRANTS:
A TERRIBLE MINOTAUR APPROACHES THE GATES.
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He's currently in the extreme southeast of the map. I'm shutting the gates right now while I muster the troops.
I'm going to be extremely disappointed if he gets caught in a cage trap.
...
He got caught in a cage trap. Not wishing to pass up this excellent training opportunity, I had him tethered to a chain in a room next to the barracks.
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And then I sent in The Ignited Lances to put the beast down.
Sauce received credit for the kill, slaying the minotaur with the blunt end of a camel bone crossbow.
While I'm rather disappointed that the minotaur wasn't able to cause any havoc, I'm relieved that the base is secure.
So secure, in fact, that a recent goblin raid ended up like this:
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3 caged goblins awaiting the "Minotaur Treatment."
The Ignited Lances had the honor of dispatching the minotaur, so I charged The Attics of Trading with executing the first spy.
To keep things sporting (and give my soldiers a slight taste of combat) I did not disarm the goblin.
They put him down without a fuss.
Next goblin in, next squad up. The Rough Caverns, it's time to draw your first blood!
Smithy was the first to step up. The goblin bit him in the upper body, latching on firms and shaking Smithy about, rending flesh and sinew alike. Capable of multi-tasking, the goblin also used this opportunity to stab Smithy in the food.
While all of this was going on, PackerTheSloth was raining a hail of blows down on the beast. The goblin parried them all. The goblin turned around, punched him in the gut, and stabbed him in the foot chipping bone and tearing ligaments and tendons.
Aldogalus, always game for a fight, used this opportunity to strike at the goblin from behind. The goblin parries all of his attacks, and stabbed him in the lower right leg, chipping the bone and tearing ligaments and tendons.
PepeLePew managed better than most! He punched the goblin once in the upper body, and kicked him squarely in the eyelid (the game is very specific about this). Then he got stabbed in the big toe (bone: shattered).
Rotfeast, the squad's brave leader, was armed with a short obsidian sword. He used the flat of the blade to smash the gobblin in the left foot, bruising the flesh.
EggoWaffle has landed about a dozen glancing blows so far. Not bad.
At this point, I realized that things were going horribly wrong, and sent in the other squads to put the goblin down before he could do any more damage. I shall recount their heroic actions.
Chosen1 stabbed it in the teeth, knocking them all out. (He then proceeded to slap the goblin in the left foot).
Tormund kicked it in the face, and then bit it in the lower body (hard enough to bruise the goblin's guts). He then proceeded to shake it around. The goblin knocked him loose, and stabbed him in the chest, fracturing several ribs.
Isatis's weapon struck true 8 times, the bronze scimitar lodging in the goblins liver and severing the motor nerve. He then punched it in the left hand so hard that the goblin's bones shattered.
NoodlenRice fought bravely, scoring several harmless blows, before receiving a daggerstrike to the bone of his lower left leg.
Rhuarc wails away on the goblin. The goblin counterattacks with a silk bag. Predictably, the silk bag has little effect on Rhuarc's copper breastplate.
Dionysus fails completely. He is stabbed in the 3rd toe of his left foot (shattering the nail!) and squarely in the flesh of his left foot. He faints from pain.
Somewhere in there, the goblin died.
Tydeus and Arty has a busy month ahead of them.
LATE AUTUMN 133
BORN:
Desire - An adorable little baby. He is the son of Macropus and Xeen. He is 3 months old. He likes crossbows. He is in a constant state of internal rage.
IMMIGRANTS:
(click to show/hide)
Armstrike - A carpenter. She is the daughter of McDeath. She is incredibly muscular. She likes demon rat leather.
Balias - A Miller/Dyer. He is married to Gigglebyte. His raspy voice is grating. He likes crutches.
CALAMARI - A hunter. He is married to RagnaroK. He is incredibly muscular. He likes wood. He likes wood warhammers. He absolutely detests flies.
Gigglebyte - A lumberjack. She is married to Balias. She is comfortable in social situations. She begins to drone when she gets exasperated.
Jarold - A leatherworker. He is married to Kooktar. His sideburns are clean shaven. He begins to stammer when he becomes exasperated. He has a little difficulty with words.
Kooktar - A tanner. She is married to Jarold. She is the daughter of Rhalzo and Screaming Idiot. She has a clear voice. She likes fox squirrels for their tenacity.
Namo - A fish dissector. He is married to Olafie. His slightly low eyebrows are extremely sparse. He would never shy away from an opportunity to say he is better than somebody else.
Olafie - A fisherman. She is married to Namo. She is tall but has quite ill-defined muscles. She absolutely detests mussels. She likes backpacks.
Phyar - A lye maker. He always takes a deep breath whenever he is surprised. He likes giant tortoises for their size.
RagnaroK - A metalcrafter. She is married to CALAMARI. She is fat. She likes pigs for their snorts. She absolutely detests purring maggots.
Balias - A Miller/Dyer. He is married to Gigglebyte. His raspy voice is grating. He likes crutches.
CALAMARI - A hunter. He is married to RagnaroK. He is incredibly muscular. He likes wood. He likes wood warhammers. He absolutely detests flies.
Gigglebyte - A lumberjack. She is married to Balias. She is comfortable in social situations. She begins to drone when she gets exasperated.
Jarold - A leatherworker. He is married to Kooktar. His sideburns are clean shaven. He begins to stammer when he becomes exasperated. He has a little difficulty with words.
Kooktar - A tanner. She is married to Jarold. She is the daughter of Rhalzo and Screaming Idiot. She has a clear voice. She likes fox squirrels for their tenacity.
Namo - A fish dissector. He is married to Olafie. His slightly low eyebrows are extremely sparse. He would never shy away from an opportunity to say he is better than somebody else.
Olafie - A fisherman. She is married to Namo. She is tall but has quite ill-defined muscles. She absolutely detests mussels. She likes backpacks.
Phyar - A lye maker. He always takes a deep breath whenever he is surprised. He likes giant tortoises for their size.
RagnaroK - A metalcrafter. She is married to CALAMARI. She is fat. She likes pigs for their snorts. She absolutely detests purring maggots.
A TERRIBLE MINOTAUR APPROACHES THE GATES.
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He's currently in the extreme southeast of the map. I'm shutting the gates right now while I muster the troops.
I'm going to be extremely disappointed if he gets caught in a cage trap.
...
He got caught in a cage trap. Not wishing to pass up this excellent training opportunity, I had him tethered to a chain in a room next to the barracks.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
And then I sent in The Ignited Lances to put the beast down.
Sauce received credit for the kill, slaying the minotaur with the blunt end of a camel bone crossbow.
While I'm rather disappointed that the minotaur wasn't able to cause any havoc, I'm relieved that the base is secure.
So secure, in fact, that a recent goblin raid ended up like this:
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3 caged goblins awaiting the "Minotaur Treatment."
The Ignited Lances had the honor of dispatching the minotaur, so I charged The Attics of Trading with executing the first spy.
To keep things sporting (and give my soldiers a slight taste of combat) I did not disarm the goblin.
They put him down without a fuss.
Next goblin in, next squad up. The Rough Caverns, it's time to draw your first blood!
Smithy was the first to step up. The goblin bit him in the upper body, latching on firms and shaking Smithy about, rending flesh and sinew alike. Capable of multi-tasking, the goblin also used this opportunity to stab Smithy in the food.
While all of this was going on, PackerTheSloth was raining a hail of blows down on the beast. The goblin parried them all. The goblin turned around, punched him in the gut, and stabbed him in the foot chipping bone and tearing ligaments and tendons.
Aldogalus, always game for a fight, used this opportunity to strike at the goblin from behind. The goblin parries all of his attacks, and stabbed him in the lower right leg, chipping the bone and tearing ligaments and tendons.
PepeLePew managed better than most! He punched the goblin once in the upper body, and kicked him squarely in the eyelid (the game is very specific about this). Then he got stabbed in the big toe (bone: shattered).
Rotfeast, the squad's brave leader, was armed with a short obsidian sword. He used the flat of the blade to smash the gobblin in the left foot, bruising the flesh.
EggoWaffle has landed about a dozen glancing blows so far. Not bad.
At this point, I realized that things were going horribly wrong, and sent in the other squads to put the goblin down before he could do any more damage. I shall recount their heroic actions.
Chosen1 stabbed it in the teeth, knocking them all out. (He then proceeded to slap the goblin in the left foot).
Tormund kicked it in the face, and then bit it in the lower body (hard enough to bruise the goblin's guts). He then proceeded to shake it around. The goblin knocked him loose, and stabbed him in the chest, fracturing several ribs.
Isatis's weapon struck true 8 times, the bronze scimitar lodging in the goblins liver and severing the motor nerve. He then punched it in the left hand so hard that the goblin's bones shattered.
NoodlenRice fought bravely, scoring several harmless blows, before receiving a daggerstrike to the bone of his lower left leg.
Rhuarc wails away on the goblin. The goblin counterattacks with a silk bag. Predictably, the silk bag has little effect on Rhuarc's copper breastplate.
Dionysus fails completely. He is stabbed in the 3rd toe of his left foot (shattering the nail!) and squarely in the flesh of his left foot. He faints from pain.
Somewhere in there, the goblin died.
Tydeus and Arty has a busy month ahead of them.
(click to show/hide)
EARLY WINTER 133.
The disastrous decision to send untrained militia against an armed opponent (to be fair, HE WAS ON A GODDAM TETHER) has had some unforseen consequences.
The hospital only had 3 beds installed.
That number has now been brought up to 8.
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Not pictured: The ominous red blinking of the patients.
Aldo and Pepe (Sharing a bed) Shana, Packer, and Smithy are laid up in the infirmary.
Arty and Tydeus have done a fantastic job of stabilizing the patients. (Smithy's upper body is now merely 'dented,' where before it was 'torn open.'
Tormund (broken hand) and Dionysus (mutilated feet) have decided to 'sleep off' their injuries in their own beds.
Uh oh.
If there's a silver lining from the Dry Lip Blues, it's that the hospital's water source is fully operational and well (!!) stocked with buckets.
The chaos caused by the failed gobli-cution disrupted the flow of trade goods to the merchant's bay. We only had enough goods on hand to trade for a supply of wood. (I had big plans to import high quality steel plate armor).
I placed an order for Wood and Armor. I checked their inventory for soap (hoping against hope that they coincidentally carried this infection-preventing wonder-bar), but left disappointed. I asked for Wood and armor, so they brought wood and armor.
The biggest disaster, however, is this:
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While I was busy playing whack-a-mole with all the forts problems, I failed to maintain the fort's liquor supplies.
This is a potentially critical oversight. I have added a second still and ordered nonstop liquor production.
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The recovering dwarves are surprisingly content. I had expected them to be miserable (what with the horrific injuries and all), but apparently Tydeus and Arty have an incredible bedside manner.
I happened to notice that Taser Jr. and Agile, two sweet innocent little children, are running around without any pants on. Not in the "adorable little kid" way, but in the "why won't mommy and daddy give me warm clothes i'm cold!!!" kind of way.
Thinking it over, the fight was not nearly as disastrous as I thought. Unarmored, Untrained peasants were harmed but not killed. No problem. The only real threat right now is if the 3rd and final goblin escapes from his cage and attacks the wrong people.
Remembering the Attics of Trading's first execution, I order the goblin tied to the killing rope and send them in.
Fuck.
SugarHoe, for some reason, is neither armed nor armored. He kicks the goblin in the head a few times before the goblin stabs him through the hand and twists the blade.
Rather than wearing the garrison issued copper helm, isatis decides to wear a wool cap. This works for a time; the light cap allows her to bite the goblin in the ankle and rip out the motor nerves. However, it is powerless to stop the goblin's dagger from crashing through his skill and making a mess of the brains. RIP.
James is wearing a copper breastplate. The goblin's dagger bounces off of it harmlessly. James us wearing a llama wool cap. The dagger caves in his skull and scrambles his brains. RIP.
Clockworkkiller just got straight up shanked in the hand (severing many wounds).
Panos gets a few shots in before suffering horrific flesh wounds to his upper chest, legs, and left foot.
The gobblin scratches Rhuarc's ear off.
Somewhere around now, I realize that everything has gone to shit and order The Ignited Lances in to swarm the goblin.
Canary shoots the goblin through the lung with a crossbow.
The mayor, Phoenix, goes for the schoolteacher approach: rapping the goblin on the knuckles with the flat of his obsidian sword. Only his copper chain leggings save him from an early retirement.
Chosen1 kicks the shit out of the goblin, until he launches 1 kick to many and suffers a fractures leg after being struck in the leg by an improbably solid dagger.
BlackWhite and CONQUEEFADOR take the goblin through the chest with a pair of camel bone crossbow bolts. Having lost the use of its lungs, the goblin becomes sick and begins to retch everywhere.
Mae finally puts an end to the fountainous effluence of goblin vomit by shooting the despicable creature sqaure in the brain.
...
...
...
Uuuhgh. At least the breweries were working all that time and now we have plenty of booze.
James and Isatis (as well as any who succumb to their wounds over the coming months) your sacrifice will not be forgotten.
I am hereby announcing "The James and Isatis Monument to the Savagery of Tethered Goblins." your bodies shall be interred in a great Mausoleum that shall safeguard future generations against such foolish and unnecessary deaths.
For you see the Mausoleum will double as a vast floodable and drainable chamber within which captured Goblins will be tethered and drowned for the amusement and satisfaction of your departed spirits.
The disastrous decision to send untrained militia against an armed opponent (to be fair, HE WAS ON A GODDAM TETHER) has had some unforseen consequences.
The hospital only had 3 beds installed.
That number has now been brought up to 8.
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Not pictured: The ominous red blinking of the patients.
Aldo and Pepe (Sharing a bed) Shana, Packer, and Smithy are laid up in the infirmary.
Arty and Tydeus have done a fantastic job of stabilizing the patients. (Smithy's upper body is now merely 'dented,' where before it was 'torn open.'
Tormund (broken hand) and Dionysus (mutilated feet) have decided to 'sleep off' their injuries in their own beds.
Uh oh.
If there's a silver lining from the Dry Lip Blues, it's that the hospital's water source is fully operational and well (!!) stocked with buckets.
The chaos caused by the failed gobli-cution disrupted the flow of trade goods to the merchant's bay. We only had enough goods on hand to trade for a supply of wood. (I had big plans to import high quality steel plate armor).
I placed an order for Wood and Armor. I checked their inventory for soap (hoping against hope that they coincidentally carried this infection-preventing wonder-bar), but left disappointed. I asked for Wood and armor, so they brought wood and armor.
The biggest disaster, however, is this:
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While I was busy playing whack-a-mole with all the forts problems, I failed to maintain the fort's liquor supplies.
This is a potentially critical oversight. I have added a second still and ordered nonstop liquor production.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
The recovering dwarves are surprisingly content. I had expected them to be miserable (what with the horrific injuries and all), but apparently Tydeus and Arty have an incredible bedside manner.
I happened to notice that Taser Jr. and Agile, two sweet innocent little children, are running around without any pants on. Not in the "adorable little kid" way, but in the "why won't mommy and daddy give me warm clothes i'm cold!!!" kind of way.
Thinking it over, the fight was not nearly as disastrous as I thought. Unarmored, Untrained peasants were harmed but not killed. No problem. The only real threat right now is if the 3rd and final goblin escapes from his cage and attacks the wrong people.
Remembering the Attics of Trading's first execution, I order the goblin tied to the killing rope and send them in.
Fuck.
SugarHoe, for some reason, is neither armed nor armored. He kicks the goblin in the head a few times before the goblin stabs him through the hand and twists the blade.
Rather than wearing the garrison issued copper helm, isatis decides to wear a wool cap. This works for a time; the light cap allows her to bite the goblin in the ankle and rip out the motor nerves. However, it is powerless to stop the goblin's dagger from crashing through his skill and making a mess of the brains. RIP.
James is wearing a copper breastplate. The goblin's dagger bounces off of it harmlessly. James us wearing a llama wool cap. The dagger caves in his skull and scrambles his brains. RIP.
Clockworkkiller just got straight up shanked in the hand (severing many wounds).
Panos gets a few shots in before suffering horrific flesh wounds to his upper chest, legs, and left foot.
The gobblin scratches Rhuarc's ear off.
Somewhere around now, I realize that everything has gone to shit and order The Ignited Lances in to swarm the goblin.
Canary shoots the goblin through the lung with a crossbow.
The mayor, Phoenix, goes for the schoolteacher approach: rapping the goblin on the knuckles with the flat of his obsidian sword. Only his copper chain leggings save him from an early retirement.
Chosen1 kicks the shit out of the goblin, until he launches 1 kick to many and suffers a fractures leg after being struck in the leg by an improbably solid dagger.
BlackWhite and CONQUEEFADOR take the goblin through the chest with a pair of camel bone crossbow bolts. Having lost the use of its lungs, the goblin becomes sick and begins to retch everywhere.
Mae finally puts an end to the fountainous effluence of goblin vomit by shooting the despicable creature sqaure in the brain.
...
...
...
Uuuhgh. At least the breweries were working all that time and now we have plenty of booze.
James and Isatis (as well as any who succumb to their wounds over the coming months) your sacrifice will not be forgotten.
I am hereby announcing "The James and Isatis Monument to the Savagery of Tethered Goblins." your bodies shall be interred in a great Mausoleum that shall safeguard future generations against such foolish and unnecessary deaths.
For you see the Mausoleum will double as a vast floodable and drainable chamber within which captured Goblins will be tethered and drowned for the amusement and satisfaction of your departed spirits.
(click to show/hide)
LATE WINTER 133:
With heavy hearts, the dwarves go about the somber task of memorializing the dead.
Some are taking it worse than others.
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MrPink has claimed the glass furnace and spends all day and all night SCREAMING that specific types of glass be brought to him.
MrPink is blissfully unaware that our proud fortress doesn't have a single shard of glass to its name. Perhaps the next caravan will bring some. Let's hope he can make it until then.
While MrPink has given in to his grief, others have sublimated the emotion into glorious productivity. Completed in near record time, I give you:
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The chamber features 4 aluminum chains, to which goblins (and only goblins) will be secured upon their capture.
It also taps into the water main that feeds the Victims of the Dry Lip Blues Memorial Well (a most reverent water main).
The simple flip of a switch will flood the room, and a simple flip of another will drain it. This way, goblins can be maintained at whatever specific level of drowning the spirits of James and Isatis find most pleasing.
The room has been fully engraved. Here are some of the highlights:
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-An engraving of the founding of our fortress, which is apparently named SLAPMERCHANT (!!!)
-A touching reminder of Canary's affinity for birdkind.
-An image of the Legendary door hatch "The Humor of Merging," which will be used in this very room to merge goblins with water (how humorous!)
-Maple Syrup has apparently prophesied the death of Phoenix by leeches.
-RIP Taser
Several months have passed. Noting the injuries that befell out warriors, I have ordered that metal legguards and greaves be forged.
Also, several goblin spies have attempted to breach the gates. They have been captured in our cage traps. Our engineers are venturing forth to gather the trapped animals rig--
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SEAL THE GATES IMMEDIATELY, WE CANNOT RISK A SINGLE GOBLIN BREACHING THE DEFENSES!
With heavy hearts, the dwarves go about the somber task of memorializing the dead.
Some are taking it worse than others.
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MrPink has claimed the glass furnace and spends all day and all night SCREAMING that specific types of glass be brought to him.
MrPink is blissfully unaware that our proud fortress doesn't have a single shard of glass to its name. Perhaps the next caravan will bring some. Let's hope he can make it until then.
While MrPink has given in to his grief, others have sublimated the emotion into glorious productivity. Completed in near record time, I give you:
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The chamber features 4 aluminum chains, to which goblins (and only goblins) will be secured upon their capture.
It also taps into the water main that feeds the Victims of the Dry Lip Blues Memorial Well (a most reverent water main).
The simple flip of a switch will flood the room, and a simple flip of another will drain it. This way, goblins can be maintained at whatever specific level of drowning the spirits of James and Isatis find most pleasing.
The room has been fully engraved. Here are some of the highlights:
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You enter the "James and Isatis Memorial to the Savagery of Tethered Goblins." You bow your head in respect for all the brave that have fallen. As you gaze upon the ground, your eyes drift over to a peculiar piece of art...
It is probably the only time you have ever seen someone engrave the floor, and then proceed to paint over said engraving. However, you find it fitting that such a worthy person has a place that will always draw peoples' gaze away from those of less import.
-An engraving of the founding of our fortress, which is apparently named SLAPMERCHANT (!!!)
-A touching reminder of Canary's affinity for birdkind.
-An image of the Legendary door hatch "The Humor of Merging," which will be used in this very room to merge goblins with water (how humorous!)
-Maple Syrup has apparently prophesied the death of Phoenix by leeches.
-RIP Taser
Several months have passed. Noting the injuries that befell out warriors, I have ordered that metal legguards and greaves be forged.
Also, several goblin spies have attempted to breach the gates. They have been captured in our cage traps. Our engineers are venturing forth to gather the trapped animals rig--
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SEAL THE GATES IMMEDIATELY, WE CANNOT RISK A SINGLE GOBLIN BREACHING THE DEFENSES!
(click to show/hide)
The goblins have launched a most clever ambush, sending in spies to trip our cage traps before rushing the gate en masse. Before this drama can unfold, we must first set the stage:
One intruder managed to breach the gate before it was sealed. He was set upon by a pack of trained war dogs (and one war jaguar, recuperated and trained for combat). He is currently dying an absolutely horrific death (last I checked there were at least 7 pairs of jaws that had hold of his skull).
Many puppies, unprepared for this violence, panicked and fled out the front gate.
Immediately outside of the gate:
EggoWaffle was on a mission to claim a captured goblin when the attack came. He spotted the fiendish goblin and ran away from the fort, into the goblin blood soaked wastelands. His only hope is that he can lure his pursuer onto the line of cage traps to his right.
Wolfsblood was returning to the fort with a captive goblin when the attack came (you can see his cage closest to the door). As the alarm went out, Wolfsblood dropped the cage and ran toward the gate with all his haste.
The door slammed shut in his face, and he collided with the barrier with such great force that he now feels sick (a bout of retching doubtless up next on his schedule).
Meanwhile on the hills high above SLAPMERCHANT, the situation has grown dire:
Macropus, continuing his excellence in child rearing, decided that today was a good day to take his pantless, shoeless, baby out for a stroll in the torrential downpour of goblin blood.
Five ravening goblins caught his scent and are now in hot pursuit.
All told, there are 10 goblins (including the 3 caged ones who will doubtless be freed by their bretheren). To Open The <G>ate right now would spell the doom of the fort.
WolfsBlood, EggoWaffle, Macropus, and Baby Desire will have to fend for themselves.
***
-One caged goblin was successfully brought into the fortress before the gates were closed.
-He is to be drowned immediately.
-One dog died during the fighting.
-More goblin reinforcement have arrived, bringing the total number of invaders up to 16.
-The dwarves trapped outside are safe for now--The goblins are too busy butchering escaped puppies and kittens to deal with them.
-In an impressive display of self control, Wolfsblood has picked up an abandoned empty cage and--amidst the carnage of the day--sets about finishing the work of re-setting a cage trap.
-It was his last act in life (technically 2nd to last, as that having his skull caved in by a silver mace was his last last).
-Thus ends the saga of Wolfsblood, the bravest Trap Engineer engineer ever to grace the halls of SLAPMERCHANT
-EggoWaffle did not pass even half so bravely. He was busy retching all over himself when the first goblin arrow took him through the guts. He continued to vomit, dropping his weapon, as the goblins closed in and pummeled him to death.
The last event of the year 133:
SLAPMERCHANT 133, A YEAR IN REVIEW:
Food status: Glorious
Drink status: Glorious
Casualties: James, Isatis, Wolfsblood, Eggowaffle, Macropus, Baby Desire.
Legendary Items: "The Humors of Mergins" - A hatch cover made by McDeath.
MAJOR EVENTS:
-Several militias have been formed.
-The deep miles have begun producing obsidian swords and copper armor.
-Every citizen has been housed in luxurious and well furnished rooms (all have beds and cabinets, many have tables and chairs).
-A minotaur appeared, was captured, and executed.
-Many brave militiamen were seriously injured in bungled goblin executions.
-A memorial/drowning chamber has been built.
-The fortress has been assaulted by a force of goblins.
SITUATION:
-Recent medical need for thread (suturing wounds) seems to have bled the formerly buoyant clothing industry dry. (Either that or HarryCrumb Jr. and ptx Jr. just have bad parents who refuse to clothe them. Poor child rearing has been a 'thing' of late).
-We are barricaded inside with no hope of escape. The militia is too weak to fight off invaders.
-We are self sufficient in everything but wood and glass. We are well stocked on wood, but I fear the lack of glass may cause further psychological damage to MrPink (he continues to occupy the glass furnace, demanding that the precious material be brought to him).
-We have an overabundance of turkey eggs, and syrup, and a lack of other ingredients. This should not prove a problem for our gifted chef, Sandy.
PSYCHOLOGICAL STATUS: Remarkably good.
Out of 97 dwarves:
9 are ecstatic
47 are happy
48 are content
2 are merely satisfied
On to bigger and better things.
SPRING 134:
It is unsafe to open the main gate, and yet the corpses within our fort must go somewhere (A goblin and dog, respectively)
The main entrance has been converted into a charnel house for this purpose. It has been sealed with an airlock of double doors to prevent the spread of pestilence (miasma) within the fort.
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With the threat of rotting corpses removed, we can now move on to tackle some of the fort's bigger issues.
Like this:
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Hmm... Pinky seems harmless enough. He spends his days roving the hallways babbling incoherently at any person (or object) that will listen to him.
This seems like a good time to wrap things up. If only there was some way to bring closure to the victims of these tragedies...
One intruder managed to breach the gate before it was sealed. He was set upon by a pack of trained war dogs (and one war jaguar, recuperated and trained for combat). He is currently dying an absolutely horrific death (last I checked there were at least 7 pairs of jaws that had hold of his skull).
Many puppies, unprepared for this violence, panicked and fled out the front gate.
Immediately outside of the gate:
EggoWaffle was on a mission to claim a captured goblin when the attack came. He spotted the fiendish goblin and ran away from the fort, into the goblin blood soaked wastelands. His only hope is that he can lure his pursuer onto the line of cage traps to his right.
Wolfsblood was returning to the fort with a captive goblin when the attack came (you can see his cage closest to the door). As the alarm went out, Wolfsblood dropped the cage and ran toward the gate with all his haste.
The door slammed shut in his face, and he collided with the barrier with such great force that he now feels sick (a bout of retching doubtless up next on his schedule).
Meanwhile on the hills high above SLAPMERCHANT, the situation has grown dire:
(click to show/hide)
Macropus, continuing his excellence in child rearing, decided that today was a good day to take his pantless, shoeless, baby out for a stroll in the torrential downpour of goblin blood.
Five ravening goblins caught his scent and are now in hot pursuit.
All told, there are 10 goblins (including the 3 caged ones who will doubtless be freed by their bretheren). To Open The <G>ate right now would spell the doom of the fort.
WolfsBlood, EggoWaffle, Macropus, and Baby Desire will have to fend for themselves.
***
-One caged goblin was successfully brought into the fortress before the gates were closed.
-He is to be drowned immediately.
-One dog died during the fighting.
-More goblin reinforcement have arrived, bringing the total number of invaders up to 16.
-The dwarves trapped outside are safe for now--The goblins are too busy butchering escaped puppies and kittens to deal with them.
-In an impressive display of self control, Wolfsblood has picked up an abandoned empty cage and--amidst the carnage of the day--sets about finishing the work of re-setting a cage trap.
-It was his last act in life (technically 2nd to last, as that having his skull caved in by a silver mace was his last last).
-Thus ends the saga of Wolfsblood, the bravest Trap Engineer engineer ever to grace the halls of SLAPMERCHANT
-EggoWaffle did not pass even half so bravely. He was busy retching all over himself when the first goblin arrow took him through the guts. He continued to vomit, dropping his weapon, as the goblins closed in and pummeled him to death.
The last event of the year 133:
SLAPMERCHANT 133, A YEAR IN REVIEW:
Food status: Glorious
Drink status: Glorious
Casualties: James, Isatis, Wolfsblood, Eggowaffle, Macropus, Baby Desire.
Legendary Items: "The Humors of Mergins" - A hatch cover made by McDeath.
MAJOR EVENTS:
-Several militias have been formed.
-The deep miles have begun producing obsidian swords and copper armor.
-Every citizen has been housed in luxurious and well furnished rooms (all have beds and cabinets, many have tables and chairs).
-A minotaur appeared, was captured, and executed.
-Many brave militiamen were seriously injured in bungled goblin executions.
-A memorial/drowning chamber has been built.
-The fortress has been assaulted by a force of goblins.
SITUATION:
-Recent medical need for thread (suturing wounds) seems to have bled the formerly buoyant clothing industry dry. (Either that or HarryCrumb Jr. and ptx Jr. just have bad parents who refuse to clothe them. Poor child rearing has been a 'thing' of late).
-We are barricaded inside with no hope of escape. The militia is too weak to fight off invaders.
-We are self sufficient in everything but wood and glass. We are well stocked on wood, but I fear the lack of glass may cause further psychological damage to MrPink (he continues to occupy the glass furnace, demanding that the precious material be brought to him).
-We have an overabundance of turkey eggs, and syrup, and a lack of other ingredients. This should not prove a problem for our gifted chef, Sandy.
PSYCHOLOGICAL STATUS: Remarkably good.
Out of 97 dwarves:
9 are ecstatic
47 are happy
48 are content
2 are merely satisfied
On to bigger and better things.
SPRING 134:
It is unsafe to open the main gate, and yet the corpses within our fort must go somewhere (A goblin and dog, respectively)
The main entrance has been converted into a charnel house for this purpose. It has been sealed with an airlock of double doors to prevent the spread of pestilence (miasma) within the fort.
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With the threat of rotting corpses removed, we can now move on to tackle some of the fort's bigger issues.
Like this:
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Hmm... Pinky seems harmless enough. He spends his days roving the hallways babbling incoherently at any person (or object) that will listen to him.
This seems like a good time to wrap things up. If only there was some way to bring closure to the victims of these tragedies...
(click to show/hide)
EARLY SPRING 134:
A batch of migrants has arrived. They are being pursued by goblins.
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OUR SACRIFICE HAS PLEASED THE GODS AND THEY HAVE SENT US MORE BRAVE SOULS.
We must let them in!
RALLY THE MILITIA, AND PREPARE TO OPEN THE GATE. ANY GOBLINS TO SNEAK PAST WILL BE CRUSHED BY OUR MIGHTY WAR DOGS AND WAR JAGUAR.
Once they are safe within the fort, we can ask them their names.
The Attics of Trading, Ignited Lances, and Rough Caverns mustered at the top of the fortress stairs. The war dogs and sole war-jaguar were arranged before them, ready to absorb the initial of the goblin charge. Renovations to the main gateway--temporarily turning it into a corpse-hall--reduced the great passageway to a pair of small wooden doors. The goblins would have to fight through this deadly bottleneck, their bodies falling in a pre-built boneyard, if they wished to enter SLAPMERCHANT. The rumbling of gears grew steadily louder until it stopped with a resonating THUD. The main gate was open.
...
...
...
...
...
Tretter, magically aware of some bloodbath taking place in the hills above him, decided to scamper out of the fortress and take a peek. He saw many terrible things, least of all the giant battle axe that took him through the midsection, splitting him in two and sending his lower body flying off a rather preposterous distance.
Vebb also was taken my an inexplicable desire to confront the goblin menace head on. He left the fort, and followed Tretter up the hillside. He was admiring the perfect parabola of a flying set of legs when a goblin brought the pommel of its axe down on his hand. The blow was so mighty that it caused Vebb to drop both the glove AND mitten that he was wearing on that hand. Decency prevents me from relating the rest of Vebb's death. All I can say is that the word "artery" is used with alarming regularity.
BigSandwich is next to join the impromptu and unlicensed charge. He crests the ridge just in time to see a stranger--Later identified as Gurnisson--fire a crossbow bolt expertly through the skull of the Goblin leader.
Elindor espied what he thought would be an easy target: a goblin axeman. The first clash of arms left Elindor helpless on the ground, bleeding, broken, and crippled. The goblin then proceeded to take golfswings at his right leg and head, separating the offending appendages from Elindor's remains and driving them a great distance across the battlefield.
CALAMARI was hot on Sandwich's heels. He saw a Wardog go down, axe buried within its brain. Incensed, he proceeded to fire off a volley of crossbow bolts that turned the dogslaying Goblin's lungs into a veritable pincushion of goblin blood and vomit. Further records confirm that CALAMARI himself, with one single crossbow, fired enough bolts in 3 seconds that use of the word "volley" is appropriate.
Not to be outdone, the newcomer Phantasmal repeated the same feat on a different goblin. Not to be a copycat, he chose to pepper a goblin's legs with crossbow bolts until both femurs shattered and the monster collapsed to the ground as a writhing of pure agony.
Another newcomer, Tinoshi, decided that Phantasmal's lower-body approach was much cooler than CALAMARI's, and duplicated it on another goblin.
Picture, if you will, a master chef working across the length of a celery stalk and transforming it into a neat pile of slices. Just so did San and his Steel Battle Axe process the hated goblin, Damsto Ukodolngo.
The remaining goblins, apparently lost amidst the panic of battle, fell into cage traps and now await our pleasure in the great drowning hall.
VICTORY! THE GOBLINS ARE SLAIN! THE GOBLINS HAVE BEEN CAPTURED! THE SIEGE IS BROKEN!
All in all, it was a glorious battle. Five unknown strangers lie dead (the surviving immigrants refuse to divulge their names), joining Tretter, Vebb, and Elindor as the most recent casualties of goblin aggression.
The new immigrants acquitted themselves impressively, dispatching half of the goblins before the SLAPMERCHANTS even joined the fray. They are greeted with open arms as our new brothers.
Among the dead are 5 immigrants, their corpses too mutilated for identification. The remaining immigrants are:
PREPARE THE TURKEY OMELETS, THERE IS TO BE A FEAST OF CELEBRATION!
PREPARE THE MASONS, THERE IS TO BE A MONUMENT RAISING!
PREPARE THE MEMORIAL TO THE SAVAGERY OF TETHERED GOBLINS, THERE IS TO BE A MASS DROWNING!
A batch of migrants has arrived. They are being pursued by goblins.
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OUR SACRIFICE HAS PLEASED THE GODS AND THEY HAVE SENT US MORE BRAVE SOULS.
We must let them in!
RALLY THE MILITIA, AND PREPARE TO OPEN THE GATE. ANY GOBLINS TO SNEAK PAST WILL BE CRUSHED BY OUR MIGHTY WAR DOGS AND WAR JAGUAR.
Once they are safe within the fort, we can ask them their names.
The Attics of Trading, Ignited Lances, and Rough Caverns mustered at the top of the fortress stairs. The war dogs and sole war-jaguar were arranged before them, ready to absorb the initial of the goblin charge. Renovations to the main gateway--temporarily turning it into a corpse-hall--reduced the great passageway to a pair of small wooden doors. The goblins would have to fight through this deadly bottleneck, their bodies falling in a pre-built boneyard, if they wished to enter SLAPMERCHANT. The rumbling of gears grew steadily louder until it stopped with a resonating THUD. The main gate was open.
...
...
...
...
...
Tretter, magically aware of some bloodbath taking place in the hills above him, decided to scamper out of the fortress and take a peek. He saw many terrible things, least of all the giant battle axe that took him through the midsection, splitting him in two and sending his lower body flying off a rather preposterous distance.
Vebb also was taken my an inexplicable desire to confront the goblin menace head on. He left the fort, and followed Tretter up the hillside. He was admiring the perfect parabola of a flying set of legs when a goblin brought the pommel of its axe down on his hand. The blow was so mighty that it caused Vebb to drop both the glove AND mitten that he was wearing on that hand. Decency prevents me from relating the rest of Vebb's death. All I can say is that the word "artery" is used with alarming regularity.
BigSandwich is next to join the impromptu and unlicensed charge. He crests the ridge just in time to see a stranger--Later identified as Gurnisson--fire a crossbow bolt expertly through the skull of the Goblin leader.
Elindor espied what he thought would be an easy target: a goblin axeman. The first clash of arms left Elindor helpless on the ground, bleeding, broken, and crippled. The goblin then proceeded to take golfswings at his right leg and head, separating the offending appendages from Elindor's remains and driving them a great distance across the battlefield.
CALAMARI was hot on Sandwich's heels. He saw a Wardog go down, axe buried within its brain. Incensed, he proceeded to fire off a volley of crossbow bolts that turned the dogslaying Goblin's lungs into a veritable pincushion of goblin blood and vomit. Further records confirm that CALAMARI himself, with one single crossbow, fired enough bolts in 3 seconds that use of the word "volley" is appropriate.
Not to be outdone, the newcomer Phantasmal repeated the same feat on a different goblin. Not to be a copycat, he chose to pepper a goblin's legs with crossbow bolts until both femurs shattered and the monster collapsed to the ground as a writhing of pure agony.
Another newcomer, Tinoshi, decided that Phantasmal's lower-body approach was much cooler than CALAMARI's, and duplicated it on another goblin.
Picture, if you will, a master chef working across the length of a celery stalk and transforming it into a neat pile of slices. Just so did San and his Steel Battle Axe process the hated goblin, Damsto Ukodolngo.
The remaining goblins, apparently lost amidst the panic of battle, fell into cage traps and now await our pleasure in the great drowning hall.
VICTORY! THE GOBLINS ARE SLAIN! THE GOBLINS HAVE BEEN CAPTURED! THE SIEGE IS BROKEN!
All in all, it was a glorious battle. Five unknown strangers lie dead (the surviving immigrants refuse to divulge their names), joining Tretter, Vebb, and Elindor as the most recent casualties of goblin aggression.
The new immigrants acquitted themselves impressively, dispatching half of the goblins before the SLAPMERCHANTS even joined the fray. They are greeted with open arms as our new brothers.
Among the dead are 5 immigrants, their corpses too mutilated for identification. The remaining immigrants are:
(click to show/hide)
Anders - A Farmer/Miller. He is married to Bullet. He lives life at a leisurely pace. He likes leopard-seal men for their fierce nature.
BaleOHay - A Blacksmith. Her father did not survive the trip. Her mother is WhiffKalifa. She is married to Phantasmal. She likes anaconda men for their great size.
Bullet - A peasant. She is Married to Anders. She needs alcohol to get through the working day.
Charlemagne - A ranger. He is married to Panther. He is the son of BigSandwich. He is somewhat weak and very short. He likes king cobras for their charming hoods.
Earthdforce - A butcher. He is married to UnholyRolyPoly. When possible, he prefers to consume Mink. He is quick to anger.
Edward - A ranger. He is married to LarryCheetah. He is very short. He has a natural inclination towards language, but he has poor empathy.
Gurnisson - A hunter. He is flimsy and clumsy. He likes wild strawberries for their vivid red color. He commonly winks as a form of greeting.
Krosis - A farmer. He is the son of HarryCrumb and HungrynBroke. His wife and child did not survive the trip to SLAPMERCHANT. His nose is slightly hooked. He absolutely detests slugs.
LarryCheetah - A peasant. She is married to Edward. She is the daughter of Rotfeast and Smithy. She is thin. She likes giant cheetahs for their speed (Again, I did NOT set this up--the game knows).
Malgalad - A clothesmaker. He is Panos' dad. He is skinny. His skin is peach. He tends to avoid crowds.
Phantasmal - A hunter. He is married to BaleOHay. He is weak. He can easily become absorbed in art and the beauty of the natural world.
sittingbull - A spinner. He is married to Zorak. He has a thin body with almost no fat on it. He likes fish men for their beauty.
Tinoshi - A hunter. She is weak. She likes moths for their coloration.
Veto - A farmer. He is very skinny. He likes spears. He seeks short-term rewards.
Zorak - A miner. She is married to sittingbull. She has a thin body with almost no fat on it. When possible, she prefers to consume donkey cheese.
Panther - A farmer. She is married to Charlemagne. Her pink skin is wrinkled. She is never optimistic or enthusiastic about anything.
UnholyRolyPoly - A carpenter. She is married to Earthdforce. She is weak and very thin. She knaws her cheek when she is annoyed.
WhiffKalifa - A ranger. She is BaleoHay's mother. Her husband did not survive the trip. She likes pond grabbers for their patience. She is slow to trust others.
BaleOHay - A Blacksmith. Her father did not survive the trip. Her mother is WhiffKalifa. She is married to Phantasmal. She likes anaconda men for their great size.
Bullet - A peasant. She is Married to Anders. She needs alcohol to get through the working day.
Charlemagne - A ranger. He is married to Panther. He is the son of BigSandwich. He is somewhat weak and very short. He likes king cobras for their charming hoods.
Earthdforce - A butcher. He is married to UnholyRolyPoly. When possible, he prefers to consume Mink. He is quick to anger.
Edward - A ranger. He is married to LarryCheetah. He is very short. He has a natural inclination towards language, but he has poor empathy.
Gurnisson - A hunter. He is flimsy and clumsy. He likes wild strawberries for their vivid red color. He commonly winks as a form of greeting.
Krosis - A farmer. He is the son of HarryCrumb and HungrynBroke. His wife and child did not survive the trip to SLAPMERCHANT. His nose is slightly hooked. He absolutely detests slugs.
LarryCheetah - A peasant. She is married to Edward. She is the daughter of Rotfeast and Smithy. She is thin. She likes giant cheetahs for their speed (Again, I did NOT set this up--the game knows).
Malgalad - A clothesmaker. He is Panos' dad. He is skinny. His skin is peach. He tends to avoid crowds.
Phantasmal - A hunter. He is married to BaleOHay. He is weak. He can easily become absorbed in art and the beauty of the natural world.
sittingbull - A spinner. He is married to Zorak. He has a thin body with almost no fat on it. He likes fish men for their beauty.
Tinoshi - A hunter. She is weak. She likes moths for their coloration.
Veto - A farmer. He is very skinny. He likes spears. He seeks short-term rewards.
Zorak - A miner. She is married to sittingbull. She has a thin body with almost no fat on it. When possible, she prefers to consume donkey cheese.
Panther - A farmer. She is married to Charlemagne. Her pink skin is wrinkled. She is never optimistic or enthusiastic about anything.
UnholyRolyPoly - A carpenter. She is married to Earthdforce. She is weak and very thin. She knaws her cheek when she is annoyed.
WhiffKalifa - A ranger. She is BaleoHay's mother. Her husband did not survive the trip. She likes pond grabbers for their patience. She is slow to trust others.
PREPARE THE TURKEY OMELETS, THERE IS TO BE A FEAST OF CELEBRATION!
PREPARE THE MASONS, THERE IS TO BE A MONUMENT RAISING!
PREPARE THE MEMORIAL TO THE SAVAGERY OF TETHERED GOBLINS, THERE IS TO BE A MASS DROWNING!
(click to show/hide)
The thrill of victory has passed, giving way to the inevitable hangover of reality.
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Sauce and Mae are overtaken by their grief over the loss of their child.
Meanwhile...
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Noodles wants blocks, trees, and thread.
Fortunately an Elven caravan arrived. I should be able to trade with them, and exorcise noodles.
I offer trade terms to the Elves:
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Fuck. I accidentally offered something made of wood, and now they're leaving in a huff.
But I will not allow the fort to run low on wooden logs.
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I seize the entire lumber shipment (and a number of other valuables, including a giant opossum) to teach them a measure of respect for the mighty fortress of SLAPMERCHANT.
Woah there, Xeen and GranPappy both threw tanrums!.. but immediately calmed down. Weird.
NOODLES HAS FINISHED HIS CREATION! HE HAS MADE A LEGENDARY...
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...crown of re-bar, covered in spiky re-bar, adorned with wooden rings, and bearing the image of a tree.
Man oh man, the first king of SLAPMERCHANT is gonna be pissed on his coronation day.
Speaking of pissed, GranPappy is throwing a tantrum again. He just punched Lemon... in the hand. The situation has yet to escalate.
MrPink has finally stopped his aimless wandering and rambling:
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He dies in the dining hall, which bothered quite a few folks.
GranPappy has now turned his rage to Namo, and is punching Namo's left hand.
Oh, and to complicate things further:
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I'm assuming that the traps will get him, but I am calling up the entire militia just in case.
Yep, the cage got him. Apparently he's just a minotaur child.
EARLY SUMMER 134
Capturing the minotaur reminded me that the cage-room is getting a bit packed. I have ordered the execution-by-drowning of 4 of the goblins. To get to the room, they will be dragged past the newly constructed tombs of the fallen. Surely their cries for mercy will please their vengeful spirits.
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Also pictured is the late MrPink's pet goose, come to pay his last respects.
The drowning was proceeding as usual, until...
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Somehow, the goblins managed to slip free of their aluminum chains.
Worse, they managed to break open the chamber door and now have a free run of the fortress.
Naturally, my orders to disarm them were ignored so they are fully armed. (I was very explicit this time, and double checked to make sure their weapons were flagged to be taken)
By a stroke of luck, these were extraordinarily well behaved goblins who always close doors behind them. A potentially fort ruining flood has been averted. The goblins also left one of their own in the drowning pit. He has expired, bringing the total number of loose goblins down to 3.
They make a mad dash up the main stairs. By a stroke of luck, the entire militia was still stationed there from the arrival of the second minotaur.
Aldogalus used a mighty warhammer to stave in the braincage of the first goblin.
Chosen1 repeated the feat on a second goblin, producing goblin-brain-porridge with a mighty kick.
The third goblin was porcupined by the collected crossbowmen, and I'm not sure who got credit for the kill.
There were a few minor injuries on our side, and San's was by far the worst. We all wish him a speedy reco--
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Oh.
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Sauce and Mae are overtaken by their grief over the loss of their child.
Meanwhile...
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Noodles wants blocks, trees, and thread.
Fortunately an Elven caravan arrived. I should be able to trade with them, and exorcise noodles.
I offer trade terms to the Elves:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
Fuck. I accidentally offered something made of wood, and now they're leaving in a huff.
But I will not allow the fort to run low on wooden logs.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
I seize the entire lumber shipment (and a number of other valuables, including a giant opossum) to teach them a measure of respect for the mighty fortress of SLAPMERCHANT.
Woah there, Xeen and GranPappy both threw tanrums!.. but immediately calmed down. Weird.
NOODLES HAS FINISHED HIS CREATION! HE HAS MADE A LEGENDARY...
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...crown of re-bar, covered in spiky re-bar, adorned with wooden rings, and bearing the image of a tree.
Man oh man, the first king of SLAPMERCHANT is gonna be pissed on his coronation day.
Speaking of pissed, GranPappy is throwing a tantrum again. He just punched Lemon... in the hand. The situation has yet to escalate.
MrPink has finally stopped his aimless wandering and rambling:
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He dies in the dining hall, which bothered quite a few folks.
GranPappy has now turned his rage to Namo, and is punching Namo's left hand.
Oh, and to complicate things further:
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I'm assuming that the traps will get him, but I am calling up the entire militia just in case.
Yep, the cage got him. Apparently he's just a minotaur child.
EARLY SUMMER 134
Capturing the minotaur reminded me that the cage-room is getting a bit packed. I have ordered the execution-by-drowning of 4 of the goblins. To get to the room, they will be dragged past the newly constructed tombs of the fallen. Surely their cries for mercy will please their vengeful spirits.
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Also pictured is the late MrPink's pet goose, come to pay his last respects.
The drowning was proceeding as usual, until...
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Somehow, the goblins managed to slip free of their aluminum chains.
Worse, they managed to break open the chamber door and now have a free run of the fortress.
Naturally, my orders to disarm them were ignored so they are fully armed. (I was very explicit this time, and double checked to make sure their weapons were flagged to be taken)
By a stroke of luck, these were extraordinarily well behaved goblins who always close doors behind them. A potentially fort ruining flood has been averted. The goblins also left one of their own in the drowning pit. He has expired, bringing the total number of loose goblins down to 3.
They make a mad dash up the main stairs. By a stroke of luck, the entire militia was still stationed there from the arrival of the second minotaur.
Aldogalus used a mighty warhammer to stave in the braincage of the first goblin.
Chosen1 repeated the feat on a second goblin, producing goblin-brain-porridge with a mighty kick.
The third goblin was porcupined by the collected crossbowmen, and I'm not sure who got credit for the kill.
There were a few minor injuries on our side, and San's was by far the worst. We all wish him a speedy reco--
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Oh.
(click to show/hide)
Bullet and Malgalad have reenforced The Attics of Trading, bringing them back up to 10 soldiers.
Ditto with Gurnisson and The Rough Caverns.
WhiffKalifa has been assigned Soap Making duty. Hooray!
Just as I give orders to expand irrigable land and increase farm output, another migrant wave shows up.
IMMIGRANTS:
The late MrPink's pet goose continues to keep its vigil over his grave. It's kinda charming.
EARLY AUTUMN 134:
It's been a quiet few months. More farmland is currently being irrigated, and I've added a new block of housing.
A human caravan arrived, and we bought a ton of wood. Our reliance on imported wood leaves these merchants un-slappable.
The clear solution is to drain the vast underground lake, and turn it into a gigantic mushroom-tree farm.
The lake's footprint covers roughly 1/4 of the map, and is several layers deep. I don't want to simply move that cavern's water to a deeper one (rendering THAT cavern unsuitable for mushroom-tree farming) so I'll have to mine out an artificial cavern of my own.
But first: a small goblin raiding numbering a half dozen has arrived up. They are currently chasing cats all over the countryside, giving the SLAPMERCHANTS ample time to prepare for the assault.
I'm wary of another trap, so I have left the front gates open to bait them into attacking. (The militia has been called up and awaits any goblin incursion).
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The battle was over as quickly as it started.
One wardog was slain.
Our brave, crippled, war jaguar has finally fallen in combat.
Shana, over-eager in pursuit of a goblin pikeman, fell for the old "jump-spin-stab" trick. The wigglyspear bullshit pretty much exploded her right arm, shattering bones, ligaments, and arteries alike.
KaMiKaZe was ashamed that one of his fellow citizens would fall for such an obvious ruse:
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Another goddamn immigrant wave.
We need to send a message to other would-be immigrants: SLAPMERCHANT isn't a free meal ticket!
Zlisch has been sent to the mines, and the other 9 have been drafted into the militia under Phantasmal's command.
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The Honorable Crafts ugh, well at least it kinda makes sense with The Attics of Trading?
Chesterotab has been given the Noble title of Bookkeeper.
LATE AUTUMN:
It's been a boring couple of months. Not much has been happening. I had the militia execute the minotaur. Days later, we were assaulted by a walking contradiction:
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The army was gathered, and thecannon fodder dogs were prepared for battle.
The Giant charged the assembled war dogs, killing several on impact.
CONQUEEFADOR then did what he does best; he shot the Giant in the lungs, and caused it to begin giant-vomiting everywhere.
At this point, 10 seconds into the battle, all fight left the giant. He keeled over. Dizzy with the fumes of his own blood and vomit, he could not tell one way from another. Rather than crawling towards the main gate for escape, he crawled into the barracks compound and accidentally drew the attention of even more dwarven soldiers.
The fairytale of the pied piper seems particularly appropriate here: a grown man leading a train of children on a merry jaunt around town. Just so did the crippled, crawling, retching, and wretched giant head the line of a teeming mass of angry dwarves. The most daring of crossbowmen climbed up on top of the felled beast's back, and used the position to launch savagely barbed bolts into the giant's guts, liver, and internal organs.
While a normal sized creature would have been killed almost instantly, every blow that the dwarves landed was like a pinprick to the giant. But, prone as he was, the giant could offer no blows in return. And so his fate was sealed.
The dwarves spent five entire days bashing, proding, slashing, and clobbering the giant. By the time the first night came around, the dwarves organized shifts, so that some could rest while others continued to mangle and maul their terrified victim. On the second day, the giant lost the use of his legs and there was no longer any worry that the slowly lumbering slaughter-fest would reach a delicate area of the fort. Finally, the beast perished.
The worst that the dwarves suffered was a few dead wardogs, and a week of sleepless nights as the echoes of the giant's screaming reverberated throughout the fortress.
But it was more than just exhausted dwarves who heard the Giant's cries...
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Ditto with Gurnisson and The Rough Caverns.
WhiffKalifa has been assigned Soap Making duty. Hooray!
Just as I give orders to expand irrigable land and increase farm output, another migrant wave shows up.
IMMIGRANTS:
(click to show/hide)
Adoptagoat - A fisherman/Miller. He is married to Thumper. He has a quite long nose. He likes Eagle Men for their soaring.
Bolo - A tanner/Farmer. She is married to TomCruise. She has a clear deep voice. She likes giant kingsnakes for their coloration.
Chesterotab - A fisherman. She is incredibly muscular. Her hair is clean shaven. She likes to try new thing. She likes buckets.
CrazyEddy - A butcher/farmhand. He is rarely sick but he is remarkably flimsy. When possible, he prefers to consume cave crocodile and dwarven rum.
LordBerenter - An herbalist. He is married to WorkingClass. He is the son of Life and Penitent Turtler. He likes turkeys for their Snood.
Pistachio - A butcher/milker/beekeeper. She is the daughter of Spaniard and Kesh. She is very fat. She likes hyrdras for their seven heads.
Thumper - A cow milker. She is married to Adoptagoat. She is Rhuarc's daughter. She is thin. When possible, she prefers to consume hippo.
TomCruise - A dyer. He is married to Bolo. He is the son of Rhalzo and Screaming Idiot (Sr.). He is short and obese. He likes reindeer for their large herds.
WorkingClass - A Carpenter/Lumberjack. She is married to LordBerenger. She is the daughter of Namo and Olafie. She has an amazing memory, but a shortage of patience. She is resistant to change. She loves new and fresh ideas. (Wait, what?) She absolutely detests moon snails.
Bolo - A tanner/Farmer. She is married to TomCruise. She has a clear deep voice. She likes giant kingsnakes for their coloration.
Chesterotab - A fisherman. She is incredibly muscular. Her hair is clean shaven. She likes to try new thing. She likes buckets.
CrazyEddy - A butcher/farmhand. He is rarely sick but he is remarkably flimsy. When possible, he prefers to consume cave crocodile and dwarven rum.
LordBerenter - An herbalist. He is married to WorkingClass. He is the son of Life and Penitent Turtler. He likes turkeys for their Snood.
Pistachio - A butcher/milker/beekeeper. She is the daughter of Spaniard and Kesh. She is very fat. She likes hyrdras for their seven heads.
Thumper - A cow milker. She is married to Adoptagoat. She is Rhuarc's daughter. She is thin. When possible, she prefers to consume hippo.
TomCruise - A dyer. He is married to Bolo. He is the son of Rhalzo and Screaming Idiot (Sr.). He is short and obese. He likes reindeer for their large herds.
WorkingClass - A Carpenter/Lumberjack. She is married to LordBerenger. She is the daughter of Namo and Olafie. She has an amazing memory, but a shortage of patience. She is resistant to change. She loves new and fresh ideas. (Wait, what?) She absolutely detests moon snails.
The late MrPink's pet goose continues to keep its vigil over his grave. It's kinda charming.
EARLY AUTUMN 134:
It's been a quiet few months. More farmland is currently being irrigated, and I've added a new block of housing.
A human caravan arrived, and we bought a ton of wood. Our reliance on imported wood leaves these merchants un-slappable.
The clear solution is to drain the vast underground lake, and turn it into a gigantic mushroom-tree farm.
The lake's footprint covers roughly 1/4 of the map, and is several layers deep. I don't want to simply move that cavern's water to a deeper one (rendering THAT cavern unsuitable for mushroom-tree farming) so I'll have to mine out an artificial cavern of my own.
But first: a small goblin raiding numbering a half dozen has arrived up. They are currently chasing cats all over the countryside, giving the SLAPMERCHANTS ample time to prepare for the assault.
I'm wary of another trap, so I have left the front gates open to bait them into attacking. (The militia has been called up and awaits any goblin incursion).
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The battle was over as quickly as it started.
One wardog was slain.
Our brave, crippled, war jaguar has finally fallen in combat.
Shana, over-eager in pursuit of a goblin pikeman, fell for the old "jump-spin-stab" trick. The wigglyspear bullshit pretty much exploded her right arm, shattering bones, ligaments, and arteries alike.
KaMiKaZe was ashamed that one of his fellow citizens would fall for such an obvious ruse:
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Another goddamn immigrant wave.
(click to show/hide)
BlackZilla - A fisherman. She is married to Bonsai. She is weak. Her very long hair is braided. She is entirely averse to risk and excitement.
Bonsai - A hunter. He is married to Blackzilla. He is the son of WhiffKalifa. She is scrawny. She prefers to consume giant porcupine.
Firebus - A clothesmaker. She has a once thin frame, now belarded. She has a good memory. She absolutely detests fire snakes.
Flying Dildos - A hunter. She is married to Matey. Her head is somewhat short. She is trusting. She is immodest.
Haramir - A small animal dissector. He is married to Vick. He is Bulzur and Krosis' dad. He is agile. He likes Stork Men for their long bills.
Matey - A fisherman. He is married to Flying Dildos. He is the son of Life and Penitent Turtler. He has a very deep voice. He loves a good thrill. He likes the color Fuschia.
Papasmurf - A farmhand. He is married to Zlisch. He is Chosen1's dad. His very long mustache is neatly combed. He likes louse men for their ability to infest.
Vick - a blacksmith. She is married to Haramir. She is Bulzur's mother. She has a deeply recessed chin. She finds rules confining.
Wesley - An animal caretaker. His ears are slightly flattened. He likes elves for their grace. When he is bored, he starts talking to inanimate objects.
Zlisch - A miner. She is married to papasmurf. She is the mother of Chosen1 and the late Tretter. Her extremely narrow, short ears have great swinging lobes. When trying to remember something, she becomes very rigid.
Bonsai - A hunter. He is married to Blackzilla. He is the son of WhiffKalifa. She is scrawny. She prefers to consume giant porcupine.
Firebus - A clothesmaker. She has a once thin frame, now belarded. She has a good memory. She absolutely detests fire snakes.
Flying Dildos - A hunter. She is married to Matey. Her head is somewhat short. She is trusting. She is immodest.
Haramir - A small animal dissector. He is married to Vick. He is Bulzur and Krosis' dad. He is agile. He likes Stork Men for their long bills.
Matey - A fisherman. He is married to Flying Dildos. He is the son of Life and Penitent Turtler. He has a very deep voice. He loves a good thrill. He likes the color Fuschia.
Papasmurf - A farmhand. He is married to Zlisch. He is Chosen1's dad. His very long mustache is neatly combed. He likes louse men for their ability to infest.
Vick - a blacksmith. She is married to Haramir. She is Bulzur's mother. She has a deeply recessed chin. She finds rules confining.
Wesley - An animal caretaker. His ears are slightly flattened. He likes elves for their grace. When he is bored, he starts talking to inanimate objects.
Zlisch - A miner. She is married to papasmurf. She is the mother of Chosen1 and the late Tretter. Her extremely narrow, short ears have great swinging lobes. When trying to remember something, she becomes very rigid.
We need to send a message to other would-be immigrants: SLAPMERCHANT isn't a free meal ticket!
Zlisch has been sent to the mines, and the other 9 have been drafted into the militia under Phantasmal's command.
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The Honorable Crafts ugh, well at least it kinda makes sense with The Attics of Trading?
Chesterotab has been given the Noble title of Bookkeeper.
LATE AUTUMN:
It's been a boring couple of months. Not much has been happening. I had the militia execute the minotaur. Days later, we were assaulted by a walking contradiction:
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The army was gathered, and the
The Giant charged the assembled war dogs, killing several on impact.
CONQUEEFADOR then did what he does best; he shot the Giant in the lungs, and caused it to begin giant-vomiting everywhere.
At this point, 10 seconds into the battle, all fight left the giant. He keeled over. Dizzy with the fumes of his own blood and vomit, he could not tell one way from another. Rather than crawling towards the main gate for escape, he crawled into the barracks compound and accidentally drew the attention of even more dwarven soldiers.
The fairytale of the pied piper seems particularly appropriate here: a grown man leading a train of children on a merry jaunt around town. Just so did the crippled, crawling, retching, and wretched giant head the line of a teeming mass of angry dwarves. The most daring of crossbowmen climbed up on top of the felled beast's back, and used the position to launch savagely barbed bolts into the giant's guts, liver, and internal organs.
While a normal sized creature would have been killed almost instantly, every blow that the dwarves landed was like a pinprick to the giant. But, prone as he was, the giant could offer no blows in return. And so his fate was sealed.
The dwarves spent five entire days bashing, proding, slashing, and clobbering the giant. By the time the first night came around, the dwarves organized shifts, so that some could rest while others continued to mangle and maul their terrified victim. On the second day, the giant lost the use of his legs and there was no longer any worry that the slowly lumbering slaughter-fest would reach a delicate area of the fort. Finally, the beast perished.
The worst that the dwarves suffered was a few dead wardogs, and a week of sleepless nights as the echoes of the giant's screaming reverberated throughout the fortress.
But it was more than just exhausted dwarves who heard the Giant's cries...
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(click to show/hide)
A large force of Goblins has arrived and now besieges SLAPMERCHANT. They should know by now that they have no chance of breaching our mighty stone gates! It's preposterous to think that a noodle-armed goblin could batter through our expertly crafted dwarven defenses! Even if they were to enter the fort somehow, 16 goblins have no realistic chance of defeating our 40 militiamen!
There is hearty round of chortling, guffawing, and snickering amongst the dwarves, until the second scout delivers his report:
The goblins have enlisted the aid of a terrible monstrosity: Nako, the Voracious Cave Crawler.
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Shit.
We can seal the gates and hope that they withstand the Cave Crawler's creeping battery, but not for long. SLAPMERCHANT is currently hosting a human trade caravan. The humans, though generally reasonable, will not suffer a prolonged siege. If we keep the gates sealed for too long, they will attempt to open them by force.
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A battle is coming. But first, we must prepare.
There are still 7 captive goblins within the fort. Though captured and caged, they remain armed and armored. The dwarves absolute refusal to disarm their prisoners is one of the most vexing SLAPMERCHANT customs, which I am powerless to change. These goblins will have to be dealt with before we can hope to break the siege.
The James and Isatis Monument to the Savagery of Tethered Goblins nearly resulted in a fort-crippling flood last time, but it's the only practical solution we have. To fight the still-armed captives would risk our militiamen on the eve of a great battle. If past experiences with that sort of execution has taught me anything, it is that the dwarves treat the event like a game and compete to see who can get stabbed in the left foot the most.
The memorial's aluminum chains have already proven themselves inadequate for the restraint of armed goblins, so I have ordered that the goblins be brought down to the chamber in their cages. If the spirits of James and Isatis take offense to this sudden breach of tradition, they will have to be satisfied by the fact that the coming execution will drown and unprecedented 7 goblins at once.
Alas, BigSandwich knows the truth about 'orders.' They exist only to be defied.
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Great, BigSandwich, just leave the job incomplete and let the enemy within continue to threaten us. What were you even celebrating? Let's have a look..
Oh.
The party is located in the long corridor of tombs (dedicated to those who fell in the most recent goblin attack) and is centered around a statue of Baby Desire.
Ok, I guess that's alright, but you should've made sure that the captured goblins were d-
Oh.
The caged goblins, upon being delivered to the drowning room, immediately died. Whether they committed suicide rather than face their just punishment, their hearts stopped out of fear, or the spirits of James and Isatis snatched the life from their bodies, we will never know.
The only thing that can be confirmed is that they all died immediately upon crossing the room's threshold.
This is a good omen.
WINTER 134
Canary has given birth to a baby boy!
His name is Cochon. He likes pigs for their sense of smell. He is 0 days old. He needs alcohol to get through the working day.
Kamikaze has gone the way of MrPink. He now stalks the hallways of SLAPMERCHANT babbling utter nonsense.
Just seconds after writing the above message, Kamikaze died of thirst. RIP
The humans have finished their trading, and are anxious to leave.
Being the gracious hosts that we are, we have decided to give the Humans a place of honor in the vanguard of our army.
Being the considerate hosts that we are, we have decided to keep the military nature of the Human's departure a secret from them (SURPRISE honor is much better than bland old vanilla honor).
To that end, I have mustered the army, opened the gate, and informed the Humans that the siege has ended and they are free to leave. Hopefully the mass-mobilization of the entire fort doesn't tip them off to my true intentions.
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The goblin army charges!
If SLAPMERCHANT has taught me anything, it's that cage trapsruin everything are a ridiculously effective means of defense. Half of the goblin force has been captured (including the Voracious Cave Crawler) before even reaching the gates.
The remaining goblins are dispatched with alarming ease.
Canary successfully predicted what a pushover the invaders would be, and even brought Baby Cochon along.
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A goblin maceman decided to play croquet with the one week old dwarf. Cochon miraculously survives the encounter with nothing worse than a few bruises.
Phantasmal, trusty iron spear in hand, neatly skewers the would-be croquet master, holding him in place as several of the less-astute dwarves lay about its toes with obsidian swords. Realizing the idiocy that he is promoting, Phantasmal stabs the goblin through the face, killing it instantly.
Rotfeast sneaks up behind another goblin and delivers a mighty blow with his bronze scimitar. The weapon buries to the hilt in goblin flesh. Not knowing what else to do, Rotfeast scratches the goblin's index finger (left hand!), shattering the beast's fingernail. Scratching completed, he withdraws the gore-soaked weapon from the goblins ruined chest and neatly lops of its right hand. He is too busy delivering pommel strikes to the goblin's right foot to realize that it is dead.
Rhuarc scratches a goblin in the thumb.
...
Shattering the bone.
San continues his experiments with goblin geometry. He lops off a goblin's forearm. Not one to ruin a perfect symmetry, he quickly chops off the goblin's other forearm. But the goblin, with mere biceps for arms, is proportioned poorly. San corrects this error, by chopping off the left upper arm. He pauses for a moment, in contemplation, and gives the right bicep the same treatment. The goblin looks absolutely ridiculous now, and San's attempt to make goblins more aesthetically pleasing by trimming down their arms is, in fact, horrifying to behold. Angry that he has failed he punches the goblin in the fact, shattering the skull and killing it instantly.
The remaining goblins are dispatched with crossbow bolts, an alarming testament to the killing power of weaponized turkey bones.
No dwarves received significant injuries during this action. The dwarves' only complaint is that they are soaked to the bone in goblin blood. The fort's now operational soapmaking industry should wash this complaint away in no time.
There is hearty round of chortling, guffawing, and snickering amongst the dwarves, until the second scout delivers his report:
The goblins have enlisted the aid of a terrible monstrosity: Nako, the Voracious Cave Crawler.
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Shit.
We can seal the gates and hope that they withstand the Cave Crawler's creeping battery, but not for long. SLAPMERCHANT is currently hosting a human trade caravan. The humans, though generally reasonable, will not suffer a prolonged siege. If we keep the gates sealed for too long, they will attempt to open them by force.
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A battle is coming. But first, we must prepare.
There are still 7 captive goblins within the fort. Though captured and caged, they remain armed and armored. The dwarves absolute refusal to disarm their prisoners is one of the most vexing SLAPMERCHANT customs, which I am powerless to change. These goblins will have to be dealt with before we can hope to break the siege.
The James and Isatis Monument to the Savagery of Tethered Goblins nearly resulted in a fort-crippling flood last time, but it's the only practical solution we have. To fight the still-armed captives would risk our militiamen on the eve of a great battle. If past experiences with that sort of execution has taught me anything, it is that the dwarves treat the event like a game and compete to see who can get stabbed in the left foot the most.
The memorial's aluminum chains have already proven themselves inadequate for the restraint of armed goblins, so I have ordered that the goblins be brought down to the chamber in their cages. If the spirits of James and Isatis take offense to this sudden breach of tradition, they will have to be satisfied by the fact that the coming execution will drown and unprecedented 7 goblins at once.
Alas, BigSandwich knows the truth about 'orders.' They exist only to be defied.
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Great, BigSandwich, just leave the job incomplete and let the enemy within continue to threaten us. What were you even celebrating? Let's have a look..
Oh.
The party is located in the long corridor of tombs (dedicated to those who fell in the most recent goblin attack) and is centered around a statue of Baby Desire.
Ok, I guess that's alright, but you should've made sure that the captured goblins were d-
Oh.
The caged goblins, upon being delivered to the drowning room, immediately died. Whether they committed suicide rather than face their just punishment, their hearts stopped out of fear, or the spirits of James and Isatis snatched the life from their bodies, we will never know.
The only thing that can be confirmed is that they all died immediately upon crossing the room's threshold.
This is a good omen.
WINTER 134
Canary has given birth to a baby boy!
His name is Cochon. He likes pigs for their sense of smell. He is 0 days old. He needs alcohol to get through the working day.
Kamikaze has gone the way of MrPink. He now stalks the hallways of SLAPMERCHANT babbling utter nonsense.
Just seconds after writing the above message, Kamikaze died of thirst. RIP
The humans have finished their trading, and are anxious to leave.
Being the gracious hosts that we are, we have decided to give the Humans a place of honor in the vanguard of our army.
Being the considerate hosts that we are, we have decided to keep the military nature of the Human's departure a secret from them (SURPRISE honor is much better than bland old vanilla honor).
To that end, I have mustered the army, opened the gate, and informed the Humans that the siege has ended and they are free to leave. Hopefully the mass-mobilization of the entire fort doesn't tip them off to my true intentions.
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The goblin army charges!
If SLAPMERCHANT has taught me anything, it's that cage traps
The remaining goblins are dispatched with alarming ease.
Canary successfully predicted what a pushover the invaders would be, and even brought Baby Cochon along.
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A goblin maceman decided to play croquet with the one week old dwarf. Cochon miraculously survives the encounter with nothing worse than a few bruises.
Phantasmal, trusty iron spear in hand, neatly skewers the would-be croquet master, holding him in place as several of the less-astute dwarves lay about its toes with obsidian swords. Realizing the idiocy that he is promoting, Phantasmal stabs the goblin through the face, killing it instantly.
Rotfeast sneaks up behind another goblin and delivers a mighty blow with his bronze scimitar. The weapon buries to the hilt in goblin flesh. Not knowing what else to do, Rotfeast scratches the goblin's index finger (left hand!), shattering the beast's fingernail. Scratching completed, he withdraws the gore-soaked weapon from the goblins ruined chest and neatly lops of its right hand. He is too busy delivering pommel strikes to the goblin's right foot to realize that it is dead.
Rhuarc scratches a goblin in the thumb.
...
Shattering the bone.
San continues his experiments with goblin geometry. He lops off a goblin's forearm. Not one to ruin a perfect symmetry, he quickly chops off the goblin's other forearm. But the goblin, with mere biceps for arms, is proportioned poorly. San corrects this error, by chopping off the left upper arm. He pauses for a moment, in contemplation, and gives the right bicep the same treatment. The goblin looks absolutely ridiculous now, and San's attempt to make goblins more aesthetically pleasing by trimming down their arms is, in fact, horrifying to behold. Angry that he has failed he punches the goblin in the fact, shattering the skull and killing it instantly.
The remaining goblins are dispatched with crossbow bolts, an alarming testament to the killing power of weaponized turkey bones.
No dwarves received significant injuries during this action. The dwarves' only complaint is that they are soaked to the bone in goblin blood. The fort's now operational soapmaking industry should wash this complaint away in no time.
(click to show/hide)
Cage traps, while remarkably effective, are a less than satisfying means of defense.
To that end, I have ordered Tears of Destiny to tame our captured snakes. He managed to tame the rattlesnake without dying, so the non-poisonous KingSnakes should be a breeze.
The rattlesnake is a female. I am hoping that if I release her from her cage, she will sneak out at night and go to the Drive-In with some of the cool boy snakes from Snake School (they just want to hold hands, promise!) before going to Snake-Makeout-Ridge and getting Snake Preggers. If all goes according to plan, we will soon have an army of trained rattlesnakes to unleash on our enemies.
Regrettably, Rattlesnakes cannot be trained as War Rattlesnakes.
Meanwhile,
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I dumped a goblin into the Live-Fire-Target-Range, hoping to see if my goblins had disarmed him. Obviously they hadn't, but CONQUEEFADOR figured out that he was supposed to shoot the goblin through the arrow loops, and has begun Fish-In-Barreling the wretched creature!
Now that we have a crossbowman who understands the purpose of the room, captured goblins can be used for live fire drills.
A small band of 5 kobolds has attacked. They were put down mercilessly and without incident.
Kafein's possession is not going well. He's sitting at the leather crafting station chittering to himself about how he needs "more thread" and "more bones." I will attempt to give him these things, but I doubt I will be able to locate the right kind. Historically speaking, possessed SLAPMERCHANTS have a very low survival rate.
Tears of Destiny's work with the rattlesnake has shown him to be a competent trainer. I have now charged him with taming the Voracious Cave Crawler.
I built a separate cave for the execution of vile camels. I had them placed in the room, and sent in the military to rid the world of their two-humped filth.
OH GOD
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I had forgotten that Camels were our first enemy, who plotted night and day for our demise. We have kept them in captivity for so long that we forgot the threat they represent. I my hubris, I ordered all the camels to be placed in the camel execution room at once.
I sent the military in, giving them explicit orders that no camel was to leave that room alive.
The camels have burst free of their feeble prison.
Phyar tried to delay them with the little known technique of 'distracting camels by getting kicked in the skull' He died of complications related to the sudden (and repeated) appearance of camel hooves within the brain tissue.
Tydeus, being the brave doctor that he is, went to investigate the medical nature of this ailment. During the course of his research, he determined that "complications related to the sudden (and repeated) appearance of camel hooves within the brain tissue" is a highly communicable disease which originates in crazed herds of bloodthirsty camels. Tydeus can say with absolute certainty that the disease is contagious, for just seconds after investigating Phyar's corpse, he himself died of these very same complications.
We were taken in by the camel's dastardly ruse. They allowed themselves to be captured such that they could penetrate our defenses and assassinate our Chief Medical Officer. Never again will we forget what savage and deplorable beasts camels are.
As the last camel was put down, another ticking timebomb went off:
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Kafein, incensed that we did not provide him with the skeletons and bones that he asked for, set out to make some skeletons of his own. He stormed into the mushroom farm, screaming at the top of his lungs, and charged straight for LarryCheetah. Larry, not not as swift as his namesake, was quickly run down and hurled to the muddy farm floor. Kafein began to stomp him out, crushing toes and fingernails alike. LarryCheetah offered a withering resistance, occasionally pinching his assailant in the knees, but his evasive rolling succeeded only in ruining the Winter harvest of Cave Wheat.
Malgalad, Panos, and Bullet were the first to respond. They made swift work of the crazed berserk, their obsidian swords mashing his body into a pulpy fertilizer. Perhaps this is what the former farmer Kafein wanted all along: to become one with his beloved crops.
SPRING 135: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
134 A YEAR IN REVIEW:
Food: Insanely overstocked.
Booze: Insanely overstocked.
Casualties: Phyar, Tydeus, Elindor, Vebb, Tretter, MrPink, KaMiKaZe, Kafein.
Legendary items: None.
Major Events:
-Elven Merchants slapped.
-Plans to drain the underwater cave-pool are nearly complete.
-Several goblin incursions defeated
-The lengthy and terrible slaying of an inept giant.
-The inexplicable death of captive goblins in the drowning chamber.
-A fourth militia unit has been formed.
-The Trojan Camel incident.
Situation: Excellent
The fort faces no external threats, and is poised to rid itself of dependency on imported wood.
Psychological Status: Tenuous
Out of 126 dwarves (and several chilren),
4 are ecstatic.
16 are happy.
83 are content.
24 are fine.
8 are unhappy.
1 is very unhappy.
2 are miserable.
Aside from the loss of loved ones, the dwarves' chief complaint right now is that they were forced to fight outside, in the sun, in a rain of goblin blood. Higher spirits will prevail after a stirring round of bathing.
To that end, I have ordered Tears of Destiny to tame our captured snakes. He managed to tame the rattlesnake without dying, so the non-poisonous KingSnakes should be a breeze.
The rattlesnake is a female. I am hoping that if I release her from her cage, she will sneak out at night and go to the Drive-In with some of the cool boy snakes from Snake School (they just want to hold hands, promise!) before going to Snake-Makeout-Ridge and getting Snake Preggers. If all goes according to plan, we will soon have an army of trained rattlesnakes to unleash on our enemies.
Regrettably, Rattlesnakes cannot be trained as War Rattlesnakes.
Meanwhile,
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I dumped a goblin into the Live-Fire-Target-Range, hoping to see if my goblins had disarmed him. Obviously they hadn't, but CONQUEEFADOR figured out that he was supposed to shoot the goblin through the arrow loops, and has begun Fish-In-Barreling the wretched creature!
Now that we have a crossbowman who understands the purpose of the room, captured goblins can be used for live fire drills.
A small band of 5 kobolds has attacked. They were put down mercilessly and without incident.
Kafein's possession is not going well. He's sitting at the leather crafting station chittering to himself about how he needs "more thread" and "more bones." I will attempt to give him these things, but I doubt I will be able to locate the right kind. Historically speaking, possessed SLAPMERCHANTS have a very low survival rate.
Tears of Destiny's work with the rattlesnake has shown him to be a competent trainer. I have now charged him with taming the Voracious Cave Crawler.
I built a separate cave for the execution of vile camels. I had them placed in the room, and sent in the military to rid the world of their two-humped filth.
OH GOD
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I had forgotten that Camels were our first enemy, who plotted night and day for our demise. We have kept them in captivity for so long that we forgot the threat they represent. I my hubris, I ordered all the camels to be placed in the camel execution room at once.
I sent the military in, giving them explicit orders that no camel was to leave that room alive.
The camels have burst free of their feeble prison.
Phyar tried to delay them with the little known technique of 'distracting camels by getting kicked in the skull' He died of complications related to the sudden (and repeated) appearance of camel hooves within the brain tissue.
Tydeus, being the brave doctor that he is, went to investigate the medical nature of this ailment. During the course of his research, he determined that "complications related to the sudden (and repeated) appearance of camel hooves within the brain tissue" is a highly communicable disease which originates in crazed herds of bloodthirsty camels. Tydeus can say with absolute certainty that the disease is contagious, for just seconds after investigating Phyar's corpse, he himself died of these very same complications.
We were taken in by the camel's dastardly ruse. They allowed themselves to be captured such that they could penetrate our defenses and assassinate our Chief Medical Officer. Never again will we forget what savage and deplorable beasts camels are.
As the last camel was put down, another ticking timebomb went off:
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Kafein, incensed that we did not provide him with the skeletons and bones that he asked for, set out to make some skeletons of his own. He stormed into the mushroom farm, screaming at the top of his lungs, and charged straight for LarryCheetah. Larry, not not as swift as his namesake, was quickly run down and hurled to the muddy farm floor. Kafein began to stomp him out, crushing toes and fingernails alike. LarryCheetah offered a withering resistance, occasionally pinching his assailant in the knees, but his evasive rolling succeeded only in ruining the Winter harvest of Cave Wheat.
Malgalad, Panos, and Bullet were the first to respond. They made swift work of the crazed berserk, their obsidian swords mashing his body into a pulpy fertilizer. Perhaps this is what the former farmer Kafein wanted all along: to become one with his beloved crops.
SPRING 135: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
134 A YEAR IN REVIEW:
Food: Insanely overstocked.
Booze: Insanely overstocked.
Casualties: Phyar, Tydeus, Elindor, Vebb, Tretter, MrPink, KaMiKaZe, Kafein.
Legendary items: None.
Major Events:
-Elven Merchants slapped.
-Plans to drain the underwater cave-pool are nearly complete.
-Several goblin incursions defeated
-The lengthy and terrible slaying of an inept giant.
-The inexplicable death of captive goblins in the drowning chamber.
-A fourth militia unit has been formed.
-The Trojan Camel incident.
Situation: Excellent
The fort faces no external threats, and is poised to rid itself of dependency on imported wood.
Psychological Status: Tenuous
Out of 126 dwarves (and several chilren),
4 are ecstatic.
16 are happy.
83 are content.
24 are fine.
8 are unhappy.
1 is very unhappy.
2 are miserable.
Aside from the loss of loved ones, the dwarves' chief complaint right now is that they were forced to fight outside, in the sun, in a rain of goblin blood. Higher spirits will prevail after a stirring round of bathing.
(click to show/hide)
Tydeus chose a very poor place to die of camel related injuries. His body fell in the barracks of The Ignited Lances, mere feet from the arrow loops facing the captive goblin targets. Recent success with this means of execution once again caused me to overestimate the abilities of our dwarves; I placed 4 goblins in the chamber at once.
These goblins, though safe behind bars, are of the most terrifying aspect. So terrifying, in fact, that any civilians who catch sight of them flee as if they had seen hell itself. Tydeus's corpse lies rotting a few feet from these frightening monsters, so corpse collection has been a problem. The military won't move the body--that's civillian work--and the civillians won't go near the goblin--that's military work.
If Tydeus' body remains where it is, it will begin to rot and make the room uninhabitable for anyone.
Sigh, there's nothing for it but to pull the lever, release the goblins, and hope that the military can take them down without any casualties.
Eager to prove his quality, Dionysus was the first to charge the escaping goblins. He bowled over the first goblin, knocking it to the ground. He raised his obsidian sword high, ready to cement his reputation as a famed warrior, and brought it down with a crash on the goblin's exposed back. Miraculously, the sword bounced off of the goblin's troll fur cloak. He raised his weapon one again: Same sword, same cloak, same result. As he raised his sword a third time, he realized that the world was a bit more horizontal than he was used to. The cause was immediately clear: the goblin's heavy bronze mace had crashed into his femur, shattering the bone, and knocking him down. This sudden flash of insight was followed by a brief flash of pain, as the mace revisited his body once more, crushing his skull and ending the brave dwarf's life.
RIP
Clockworkkiller would not let this grave offense stand. He brought his own sword down on the goblin's impossibly durable cloak, but fared no better than his late companion. Next he leveled a blow at the goblin's helmet, hoping to cleave it in two. *PLINK* nothing happened. It was now Clockworkkiller's time to have a sudden flash of insight. These swords are terrible! He dropped the weapon and delivered a haymaker uppercut to the goblin's chin. Force of the blow drove his fist all the way up through the goblin's jaw and knocking it's helmet to the ground. His fist continued up through the brain and bust out from the top of the skull like the sudden appearance of a wildly inappropriate prop at a children's puppet show.
Rotfeast admired Clockworkkiller's macabre spectacle, and decided to contribute to the fanfare. His bronze scimitar lashed out a dozen times in quick succession, rapidly transforming the singular goblin into a room-wide display of meat-confetti.
The final two were riddled with turkey-bones, and died almost instantly.
***
The Liason from the dwarven capital has arrived, and brings news that SLAPMERCHANT is to be recognized as an official colony! Hooray! I'm not sure what that entails, but the liason did ask which dwarf should be granted the title Baron of SLAPMERCHANT. In honor of his military successes, and impeccable record for maintaining order, I nominated Shana. (Also, he has no left arm, and his right shoulder is completely ruined. How much can he abuse his noble title if he doesn't have any functioning arms?)
The liason also brought a new batch of immigrants.
Tears of Destiny has succeeded in taming the Voracios Cave Dweller... partially. I'm not confident enough to give it a free run of the fortress, but I have put it to work: I've used a rope to tie it up near the front of our fort. Any nasties trying to get in will have to go through him.
Uh oh:
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This sort of behavior almost always proves fatal.
Miraculously, he survives the ordeal. The fruits of his labor? A legendary bucket!
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A legendary bucket, describing the trials of a man named Gogol Wipecheeses.
Excellent.
An Elven Caravan has arrived! I was already planning on SLAPMERCHANTING them, but then I noticed they are using camels as pack animals. Have they no shame? Stronger measures may be called for.
But before they could arrive and receive justice, they were ambushed by a pack of goblins.
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The goblins murder the Elves, and head for the main gate. I am eager to see what the pet Voracious Cave Crawler can do.
Malgalad, brave soul, refuses to let the chained beast fight alone. He runs to aid the Crawler by himself.
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As soon as he arrives, the goblins kill the crawler and turn on Malgalad.
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(Malgalad is the little red smudge in the bottom left)
I order the army out to save Malgalad. Needless to say, he doesn't make it. As the dwarves thunder across the field, they spy a harmless kingsnake. The main body splits off in hot pursuit of the snake, leaving San, NoodlenRice, Rotfeast and the maimed Shana to fight the goblins.
A goblin with a whip squares off again Shana. He lashes out at Shana's one remaining hand (the one attached to the broken and useless shoulder). He cuts it clean off.
Undaunted, the handless Shana proceeds to kick the goblin in the face until it dies.
This is why he is being promoted to Baron.
The feat was so incredible that San just turned around and walked back to the fort.
Rotfeast and NoodlenRice team up on the second goblin, the bronze scimitar slicing him apart as quickly as the crossbow-spam is able to bolt it back together. It shudders to the ground, a horrible frankenstein of wounds.
The rest of the army has arrived by now. The final goblin, sensing his imminent doom, tries to pad his KDA. He picks Baby Cochon out of the pack and dives for him.
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Baby Cochon survives the second brutal beating of his young life.
The dwarves, outnumbering their opponents by nearly 40, succeed in breaking every bone in the bodies of the last 2 goblins, leaving them to die on the field.
It is only after the din of battle clears that anybody notices Ramza and Tinoshi's absence. They will be missed.
Oh,
Despite the loss of his other hand, Shana remains the 2nd happiest dwarf in the fortress.
These goblins, though safe behind bars, are of the most terrifying aspect. So terrifying, in fact, that any civilians who catch sight of them flee as if they had seen hell itself. Tydeus's corpse lies rotting a few feet from these frightening monsters, so corpse collection has been a problem. The military won't move the body--that's civillian work--and the civillians won't go near the goblin--that's military work.
If Tydeus' body remains where it is, it will begin to rot and make the room uninhabitable for anyone.
Sigh, there's nothing for it but to pull the lever, release the goblins, and hope that the military can take them down without any casualties.
Eager to prove his quality, Dionysus was the first to charge the escaping goblins. He bowled over the first goblin, knocking it to the ground. He raised his obsidian sword high, ready to cement his reputation as a famed warrior, and brought it down with a crash on the goblin's exposed back. Miraculously, the sword bounced off of the goblin's troll fur cloak. He raised his weapon one again: Same sword, same cloak, same result. As he raised his sword a third time, he realized that the world was a bit more horizontal than he was used to. The cause was immediately clear: the goblin's heavy bronze mace had crashed into his femur, shattering the bone, and knocking him down. This sudden flash of insight was followed by a brief flash of pain, as the mace revisited his body once more, crushing his skull and ending the brave dwarf's life.
RIP
Clockworkkiller would not let this grave offense stand. He brought his own sword down on the goblin's impossibly durable cloak, but fared no better than his late companion. Next he leveled a blow at the goblin's helmet, hoping to cleave it in two. *PLINK* nothing happened. It was now Clockworkkiller's time to have a sudden flash of insight. These swords are terrible! He dropped the weapon and delivered a haymaker uppercut to the goblin's chin. Force of the blow drove his fist all the way up through the goblin's jaw and knocking it's helmet to the ground. His fist continued up through the brain and bust out from the top of the skull like the sudden appearance of a wildly inappropriate prop at a children's puppet show.
Rotfeast admired Clockworkkiller's macabre spectacle, and decided to contribute to the fanfare. His bronze scimitar lashed out a dozen times in quick succession, rapidly transforming the singular goblin into a room-wide display of meat-confetti.
The final two were riddled with turkey-bones, and died almost instantly.
***
The Liason from the dwarven capital has arrived, and brings news that SLAPMERCHANT is to be recognized as an official colony! Hooray! I'm not sure what that entails, but the liason did ask which dwarf should be granted the title Baron of SLAPMERCHANT. In honor of his military successes, and impeccable record for maintaining order, I nominated Shana. (Also, he has no left arm, and his right shoulder is completely ruined. How much can he abuse his noble title if he doesn't have any functioning arms?)
The liason also brought a new batch of immigrants.
(click to show/hide)
Armpit Sweat - A mechanic. He is married to Darmaster. His eyebrows are extremely long. He likes Parakeet Men for their ability to speak.
Brrrak - A butcher/brewer. Her hair is clean shaven. She absolutely detests blood knats.
Darmaster - A fisherman. She is married to Armpit Sweat. She is quite durable but she is quite clumsy. She has a great ability to focus. She rarely completes tasks and is often overcome by distractions (???)
Gmnotutoo - A fisherman. He is very fat. He likes windows. His voice always trails off when he is thinking.
Ken456 - An herbalist/beekeeper. He is married to Malaclypse. He is thin and very muscular. He likes Rattlesnake Men for their warning rattle.
Kratos - A surgeon. She is married to Ramza. She is incredibly muscular. She likes Hamster Men for their puffy cheeks. She absolutely detests hamsters.
Malaclypse - A great potash maker. She is married to Ken456. She is mighty and agile. She likes Cuttlefish Men for their distinctive pupils. She is absolutely unfazed by the opinions of others.
Ramza - A hunter. He is married to Kratos. He is the father of ptx. He is very fat. When possible, he prefers to consume Giant Red Panda. He holds his breath when he is nervous.
Sparvico - A small animal dissector. He is married to Teeth. He is the son of HarryCrumb and HungrynBroke. He has a way with words and a feel for music but he has a poor creativity. He absolutely detests brown recluse spiders.
Teeth - A fish dissector. She is married to Sparvico. She is fat. Her teeth are tangled. She likes backpacks.
Brrrak - A butcher/brewer. Her hair is clean shaven. She absolutely detests blood knats.
Darmaster - A fisherman. She is married to Armpit Sweat. She is quite durable but she is quite clumsy. She has a great ability to focus. She rarely completes tasks and is often overcome by distractions (???)
Gmnotutoo - A fisherman. He is very fat. He likes windows. His voice always trails off when he is thinking.
Ken456 - An herbalist/beekeeper. He is married to Malaclypse. He is thin and very muscular. He likes Rattlesnake Men for their warning rattle.
Kratos - A surgeon. She is married to Ramza. She is incredibly muscular. She likes Hamster Men for their puffy cheeks. She absolutely detests hamsters.
Malaclypse - A great potash maker. She is married to Ken456. She is mighty and agile. She likes Cuttlefish Men for their distinctive pupils. She is absolutely unfazed by the opinions of others.
Ramza - A hunter. He is married to Kratos. He is the father of ptx. He is very fat. When possible, he prefers to consume Giant Red Panda. He holds his breath when he is nervous.
Sparvico - A small animal dissector. He is married to Teeth. He is the son of HarryCrumb and HungrynBroke. He has a way with words and a feel for music but he has a poor creativity. He absolutely detests brown recluse spiders.
Teeth - A fish dissector. She is married to Sparvico. She is fat. Her teeth are tangled. She likes backpacks.
Tears of Destiny has succeeded in taming the Voracios Cave Dweller... partially. I'm not confident enough to give it a free run of the fortress, but I have put it to work: I've used a rope to tie it up near the front of our fort. Any nasties trying to get in will have to go through him.
Uh oh:
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This sort of behavior almost always proves fatal.
Miraculously, he survives the ordeal. The fruits of his labor? A legendary bucket!
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
A legendary bucket, describing the trials of a man named Gogol Wipecheeses.
Excellent.
An Elven Caravan has arrived! I was already planning on SLAPMERCHANTING them, but then I noticed they are using camels as pack animals. Have they no shame? Stronger measures may be called for.
But before they could arrive and receive justice, they were ambushed by a pack of goblins.
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The goblins murder the Elves, and head for the main gate. I am eager to see what the pet Voracious Cave Crawler can do.
Malgalad, brave soul, refuses to let the chained beast fight alone. He runs to aid the Crawler by himself.
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As soon as he arrives, the goblins kill the crawler and turn on Malgalad.
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(Malgalad is the little red smudge in the bottom left)
I order the army out to save Malgalad. Needless to say, he doesn't make it. As the dwarves thunder across the field, they spy a harmless kingsnake. The main body splits off in hot pursuit of the snake, leaving San, NoodlenRice, Rotfeast and the maimed Shana to fight the goblins.
A goblin with a whip squares off again Shana. He lashes out at Shana's one remaining hand (the one attached to the broken and useless shoulder). He cuts it clean off.
Undaunted, the handless Shana proceeds to kick the goblin in the face until it dies.
This is why he is being promoted to Baron.
The feat was so incredible that San just turned around and walked back to the fort.
Rotfeast and NoodlenRice team up on the second goblin, the bronze scimitar slicing him apart as quickly as the crossbow-spam is able to bolt it back together. It shudders to the ground, a horrible frankenstein of wounds.
The rest of the army has arrived by now. The final goblin, sensing his imminent doom, tries to pad his KDA. He picks Baby Cochon out of the pack and dives for him.
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Baby Cochon survives the second brutal beating of his young life.
The dwarves, outnumbering their opponents by nearly 40, succeed in breaking every bone in the bodies of the last 2 goblins, leaving them to die on the field.
It is only after the din of battle clears that anybody notices Ramza and Tinoshi's absence. They will be missed.
Oh,
Despite the loss of his other hand, Shana remains the 2nd happiest dwarf in the fortress.
(click to show/hide)
Early Summer - 135
Salvage parties have been sent out to recover what they can from the ruined Elven caravan. Their greatest discovery was a cage holding a Giant Leopard. War Leopard Training is to begin immediately.
News of our recent military success has spread far and wide, and a small batch of immigrants has come to get in on the action:
Other than the immigrants, Summer was a dull season.
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Early Autumn - 135
Improvements have been made to the James and Isatis Memorial to the Savagery of Tethered Goblins, increasing both security and functionality.
Previous attempts to drown tethered goblins failed and led to a near-devastating jailbreak.
Previous attempts to drown caged goblins have failed, since the cages are apparently built with an unlimited supply of oxygen.
In the current version of the Memorial, workers will throw captives into cages. Then, they will leave the room and use a lever to seal it off from the rest of the fortress. A second leaver will open the cage gates, breaching the Goblin's life sustaining Submarine/Cage and exposing them to the water.
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Roughly 15 goblins are having a bath as we speak.
Speaking of water projects, the plan to drain the underwater lake is nearly complete.
For a sense of proportion, here is a cutout of the minimap:
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We have carved out two massive chambers (stacked one above the other) roughly 1/4 the map size. Now, ourdumbest bravest miner will breach the lake from beneath, draining it into this cistern.
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CrazyEddy makes his escape!
While the lake drains, we've got more immigrants to deal with.
I honestly have no idea of what I'm going to do with all these new folks. Perhaps I will have a better idea after we deal with the latest invader:
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A Were-capybara... with very curly hair. I don't know if I should kill it, pet it, or buy it some moisturizing shampoo. Perhaps it can be tamed...
I think I like this were-capybara. He's running around the wasteland trying to attack the sinister camels. Unfortunately, he's far too slow to catch up to them, so he's just being led in circles. The endless pursuit seems to have spend his bloodlust, and the were-capybara has now reverted to his human form. I'm going to adopt a "live and let live" policy with him.
Uh oh. I fear the bloodthirsty were-capybaras is but the vanguard of a more sinister force:
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The great one-eyed-two-tailed scorpion was surprisingly easy to defeat. The beast was clever, avoiding all our best laid cage traps, and barreling through the front gates to our second line of defense: the war dogs.
The dogs swarmed the beast, their teeth making short work of his brittle exoskeleton. Mae, the first dwarf on the scene, saw what success the dogs were having, and copied the strategy. She lunged for the giant scorpion's right claw, latching on with her teeth and savoring the sweet taste of arachnid flesh. Not wishing for her crossbow to get jealous of her incisors, Mae then started using the nominally-ranged weapon to bash the scorpion's feet to a bloody pulp.
With a last burst of energy, the scorpion lashed out with its left claw, and punched Mae in the face. The blow shattered her teeth, and she lost her grip on the monster. The rest of the militia rounded the corner just in time to see the last spasm of life leave the Scorpion's body. The dogs immediately set about devouring their kill.
Supremely confident in our military's capability, I order the miners to dig ever deeper, hoping to find a second underground cavern.
I regret to inform you that our Giant War Leopard was nowhere to be seen during the fighting.
I miss our Maimed-Yet-Wildly-Protective War Jaguar.
Salvage parties have been sent out to recover what they can from the ruined Elven caravan. Their greatest discovery was a cage holding a Giant Leopard. War Leopard Training is to begin immediately.
News of our recent military success has spread far and wide, and a small batch of immigrants has come to get in on the action:
(click to show/hide)
Christo - A woodcutter/Fisherman. He is married to Tor. He is the son of Snufalumy old friendus. He is very muscular. He often greets others with a hug.
Ganner - A milker/shearer. He is married to LatrineKobold. He is the son of Life and Penitent Turtler. He is Bernie's dad. He liked Winged Freaks for their macabre ways.
LatineKobold - An animal caretaker. She is married to Ganner. She is Bernie's mom. She has a thin body with very little fat on it. She likes giant moose hooves.
Mylet - A peasant. She is married to TonicTcc. She is very skinny. When possible, she prefers to consume Giant Gila Monster.
Snufalumy old friendus - A farmhand. She is the daughter of Life and Penitent Turtler. She is SMEGMAR and Christo's mother. She is slow to anger. She cracks her knuckles when she is angry.
TonicTcc - A Tanner. He is married to Mylet. He is RJ's dad. He has a massive chin. He likes Nautiluses for their many tentacles.
Tor - A fish dissector. She is married to Christo. She is very slow to tire. She has an iron will. She absolutely detests slugs.
MeatBunny - An animal caretaker. She is married to Sniger. She is the daughter of Life and Penitent Turtler. She is the mother of EggoWaffle. She is thin and scrawny. She has a recessed chin. She absolutely detests toads.
MichaelDewit - An animal trainer. He is married to Necrorave. He is the daughter of Panther and Charlemagne. He likes Giant Emus for their size.
Necrorave - A fisherman. She is married to MichaelDewit. Her lips are very thick. She prefers to consumer giant raven. She occasionally overindulges.
Sniger - A dyer. He is married to MeatBunny. He is EggoWaffle's dad. His burnt umber skin is wrinkled. He likes ocelots for their coat patterns.
Ganner - A milker/shearer. He is married to LatrineKobold. He is the son of Life and Penitent Turtler. He is Bernie's dad. He liked Winged Freaks for their macabre ways.
LatineKobold - An animal caretaker. She is married to Ganner. She is Bernie's mom. She has a thin body with very little fat on it. She likes giant moose hooves.
Mylet - A peasant. She is married to TonicTcc. She is very skinny. When possible, she prefers to consume Giant Gila Monster.
Snufalumy old friendus - A farmhand. She is the daughter of Life and Penitent Turtler. She is SMEGMAR and Christo's mother. She is slow to anger. She cracks her knuckles when she is angry.
TonicTcc - A Tanner. He is married to Mylet. He is RJ's dad. He has a massive chin. He likes Nautiluses for their many tentacles.
Tor - A fish dissector. She is married to Christo. She is very slow to tire. She has an iron will. She absolutely detests slugs.
MeatBunny - An animal caretaker. She is married to Sniger. She is the daughter of Life and Penitent Turtler. She is the mother of EggoWaffle. She is thin and scrawny. She has a recessed chin. She absolutely detests toads.
MichaelDewit - An animal trainer. He is married to Necrorave. He is the daughter of Panther and Charlemagne. He likes Giant Emus for their size.
Necrorave - A fisherman. She is married to MichaelDewit. Her lips are very thick. She prefers to consumer giant raven. She occasionally overindulges.
Sniger - A dyer. He is married to MeatBunny. He is EggoWaffle's dad. His burnt umber skin is wrinkled. He likes ocelots for their coat patterns.
Other than the immigrants, Summer was a dull season.
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Early Autumn - 135
Improvements have been made to the James and Isatis Memorial to the Savagery of Tethered Goblins, increasing both security and functionality.
Previous attempts to drown tethered goblins failed and led to a near-devastating jailbreak.
Previous attempts to drown caged goblins have failed, since the cages are apparently built with an unlimited supply of oxygen.
In the current version of the Memorial, workers will throw captives into cages. Then, they will leave the room and use a lever to seal it off from the rest of the fortress. A second leaver will open the cage gates, breaching the Goblin's life sustaining Submarine/Cage and exposing them to the water.
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Roughly 15 goblins are having a bath as we speak.
Speaking of water projects, the plan to drain the underwater lake is nearly complete.
For a sense of proportion, here is a cutout of the minimap:
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We have carved out two massive chambers (stacked one above the other) roughly 1/4 the map size. Now, our
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CrazyEddy makes his escape!
While the lake drains, we've got more immigrants to deal with.
(click to show/hide)
cmp - A cheesemaker / Furnace operator. He is married to Erzengel. He is wiry. He likes magpie men for their fondness of shiny objects.
Dexxtaa - An animal caretaker. He is married to Fips. He is the son of Kooktar and Jarold. He likes jackals for their resourceful nature. He absolutely detests fire snakes.
Erzengel - A glassmaker. She is married to cmp. Her skin is peach. She always acts without considering alternatives or thinking through other possibilities. She absolutely detests snails.
Fips - A weaponsmith. She is married to Dexxtaa. She likes giant loons for their haunting call. She absolutely detests oysters.
FRANKTHETANK - A spinner. She is married to Paul. She is the daughter of Pepe and Aldo. She has a thin frame with some fat on it. When possible, she prefers to consume "floating guts" (???)
Karaso - A bonecarver. He is scrawny. When he is thinking, his body becomes extremely still. He absolutely detests rats.
Paul - A Blacksmith. He is married to FRANKTHETANK. HE is incredibly skinny. He is unassertive. He absolutely detests brown recluse spiders.
Shadowren - A miner. She is very fat. She likes Desert Tortoise Men for their shells. She has a fertile imagination.
Tore - A siege operator. He chews his cheek when he is angry. He absolutely detests moon snails. When possible, he prefers to consume cuttlefish.
Dexxtaa - An animal caretaker. He is married to Fips. He is the son of Kooktar and Jarold. He likes jackals for their resourceful nature. He absolutely detests fire snakes.
Erzengel - A glassmaker. She is married to cmp. Her skin is peach. She always acts without considering alternatives or thinking through other possibilities. She absolutely detests snails.
Fips - A weaponsmith. She is married to Dexxtaa. She likes giant loons for their haunting call. She absolutely detests oysters.
FRANKTHETANK - A spinner. She is married to Paul. She is the daughter of Pepe and Aldo. She has a thin frame with some fat on it. When possible, she prefers to consume "floating guts" (???)
Karaso - A bonecarver. He is scrawny. When he is thinking, his body becomes extremely still. He absolutely detests rats.
Paul - A Blacksmith. He is married to FRANKTHETANK. HE is incredibly skinny. He is unassertive. He absolutely detests brown recluse spiders.
Shadowren - A miner. She is very fat. She likes Desert Tortoise Men for their shells. She has a fertile imagination.
Tore - A siege operator. He chews his cheek when he is angry. He absolutely detests moon snails. When possible, he prefers to consume cuttlefish.
I honestly have no idea of what I'm going to do with all these new folks. Perhaps I will have a better idea after we deal with the latest invader:
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A Were-capybara... with very curly hair. I don't know if I should kill it, pet it, or buy it some moisturizing shampoo. Perhaps it can be tamed...
I think I like this were-capybara. He's running around the wasteland trying to attack the sinister camels. Unfortunately, he's far too slow to catch up to them, so he's just being led in circles. The endless pursuit seems to have spend his bloodlust, and the were-capybara has now reverted to his human form. I'm going to adopt a "live and let live" policy with him.
Uh oh. I fear the bloodthirsty were-capybaras is but the vanguard of a more sinister force:
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The great one-eyed-two-tailed scorpion was surprisingly easy to defeat. The beast was clever, avoiding all our best laid cage traps, and barreling through the front gates to our second line of defense: the war dogs.
The dogs swarmed the beast, their teeth making short work of his brittle exoskeleton. Mae, the first dwarf on the scene, saw what success the dogs were having, and copied the strategy. She lunged for the giant scorpion's right claw, latching on with her teeth and savoring the sweet taste of arachnid flesh. Not wishing for her crossbow to get jealous of her incisors, Mae then started using the nominally-ranged weapon to bash the scorpion's feet to a bloody pulp.
With a last burst of energy, the scorpion lashed out with its left claw, and punched Mae in the face. The blow shattered her teeth, and she lost her grip on the monster. The rest of the militia rounded the corner just in time to see the last spasm of life leave the Scorpion's body. The dogs immediately set about devouring their kill.
Supremely confident in our military's capability, I order the miners to dig ever deeper, hoping to find a second underground cavern.
I regret to inform you that our Giant War Leopard was nowhere to be seen during the fighting.
I miss our Maimed-Yet-Wildly-Protective War Jaguar.
(click to show/hide)
SLAPMERCHANT has been officially granted the title of "Barony."
The first act of our newly appointed baron, Shana, was to whine about how he has a crappy office. Construction has begun on quarters befitting a baron.
Testi, overwhelmed by the grandeur of the title, crafted a legendary earring.
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Not a pair of earrings. Just one.
Well equipped for office, Shana began to throw his weight around.
First, he ordered that several grates be constructed. Why? Because he likes grates.
Secondly, he forbade the export of grates. Good job, Shana.
The deep caverns beckon, and I am preparing a military expedition to explore and clear them. But first, we have to produce 40x flask and backpacks, so that our soldiers can carry provisions into the depths.
The deep mines have claimed their first casualty. The hunter LatrineKobold was out for a head-clearing walk beneath the earth, when he was set upon by a "Molemarian." Wikipedia informs me that a "Molemarian" is some sort of bizarre half human half molerat creature. The Molemarian proceeded to choke him out, and is now chasing other miners around in the dark.
The lake-draining proceeds slowly. So far, it has only succeeded in luring some angry cave crocodiles out of the water and into the mineshafts.
Phew had the honor of being the first SLAPMERCHANT dwarf to encounter a crocodile face to face.
Phew also had the honor of being the first SLAPMERCHANT dwarf to be maimed and killed by a crocodile.
This action in the deep mines seems to have awoken a rather large population of "Troglodytes." They have not yet caused any trouble, but they are massing for some unknown purpose.
SPRING 136.
It was a quiet year. Not much of anything happened. I've been digging to the Troglodyte lair, and the militia will be able to take them out soon.
The goblins seem to have thought better of raiding us, there has been almost zero goblin presence over the last few seasons.
Accordingly, I have picked a new fight. The latest Elven caravan had their goods seized, and were put to the sword. This should move things along nicely.
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The elves have turned into a purple cloud of rot. None of the dwarves seem terribly interested in cleaning up the mess. All of the dwarves, however, LOVE to complain about it.
Ugh, another nameless titan showed up. I spent a long time trying to find him only to realize that a handful of militiamen dispatched him without any effort.
The military is far too strong.
I have started mining towards the center of the earth.
The first act of our newly appointed baron, Shana, was to whine about how he has a crappy office. Construction has begun on quarters befitting a baron.
Testi, overwhelmed by the grandeur of the title, crafted a legendary earring.
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
Not a pair of earrings. Just one.
Well equipped for office, Shana began to throw his weight around.
First, he ordered that several grates be constructed. Why? Because he likes grates.
Secondly, he forbade the export of grates. Good job, Shana.
The deep caverns beckon, and I am preparing a military expedition to explore and clear them. But first, we have to produce 40x flask and backpacks, so that our soldiers can carry provisions into the depths.
The deep mines have claimed their first casualty. The hunter LatrineKobold was out for a head-clearing walk beneath the earth, when he was set upon by a "Molemarian." Wikipedia informs me that a "Molemarian" is some sort of bizarre half human half molerat creature. The Molemarian proceeded to choke him out, and is now chasing other miners around in the dark.
The lake-draining proceeds slowly. So far, it has only succeeded in luring some angry cave crocodiles out of the water and into the mineshafts.
Phew had the honor of being the first SLAPMERCHANT dwarf to encounter a crocodile face to face.
Phew also had the honor of being the first SLAPMERCHANT dwarf to be maimed and killed by a crocodile.
This action in the deep mines seems to have awoken a rather large population of "Troglodytes." They have not yet caused any trouble, but they are massing for some unknown purpose.
SPRING 136.
It was a quiet year. Not much of anything happened. I've been digging to the Troglodyte lair, and the militia will be able to take them out soon.
The goblins seem to have thought better of raiding us, there has been almost zero goblin presence over the last few seasons.
Accordingly, I have picked a new fight. The latest Elven caravan had their goods seized, and were put to the sword. This should move things along nicely.
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The elves have turned into a purple cloud of rot. None of the dwarves seem terribly interested in cleaning up the mess. All of the dwarves, however, LOVE to complain about it.
Ugh, another nameless titan showed up. I spent a long time trying to find him only to realize that a handful of militiamen dispatched him without any effort.
The military is far too strong.
I have started mining towards the center of the earth.
(click to show/hide)
The deep mines have finally produced a worthy adversary. We have found a long forgotten city, peopled by "Mosquito Men," "Weasel Men," "Parakeet Men," and all manner of other beasties.
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To make matters more fun, they are all undead. I'm not sure what that means, but I bet it's bad.
Adding to the excitement, the goblins have shown up by the dozen. They have brought a multitude of Cave Crawlers, and other bizarre monsters.
I have sealed the main gate while our warriors deal with the Zombie-Beast men.
The militia arrives at the underground citadel to find the bodies of SP1N, Bernie, DwarfBob, and Bulzur, sucked dry of blood and mutilated beyond reason. They take off in hot putsuit of a swarm of Mosquito men, easily defeating the horrible insectoid... things.
They enter the forbidden walls, and fine more bodies still: Pistachio, Shadowren, Bolo, CrazyEddy, and Dazed were taken by the beasts as well. The entire force of miners has been slain.
Hot for vengeance Shana leads a charge. The armless Baron is overwhelmed, and hurled to the ground by a flock of Parakeet Men. Their beaks produce a hideously juicy sounds as they peck and Shana's eyes. She managed to bite one in the arm, shattering the femur, before a wily Gila man clobbers her in the skull, crushing the brain.
RIP.
For some reason, the livestock has followed the militia into the depths. The Water Buffalo has proven itself to be a mighty adversary. It's charge leveled two of the undead beasts, and it used its horns to gore a third. But the Buffalo's excess of aggression has left in vulnerable to counterattack. A mosquito man stabs his needle-like proboscis into the water buffalo's guts and begins to drain the beast's lifeforce. Unsure of how else to react, the Water Buffalo begins retching all over the place, adding partially digested grass bits to the already repulsive melange of odors in the air.
As the last of the zombie beastmen falls (re)dead, the dwarves notice an Adamantite scimitar placed conspicuously next to a glowing floor panel.
AUTUMN 136:
There was a great feast to commemorate the passing of Baron Shana, and the noble sacrifice of our mining team. The goblins still besiege us, but our food stores are beyond counting and there is no threat of starvation.
It was at that feast that Noodles, perhaps far less intoxicated than he needed to be, began to hear the voices. A sort of whispering that seemed to permeate every corner of the great dining hall. He could barely make out any of the words, if indeed they were words, that slithered up from the deep, beneath the cracks in the mortars. There was something... special there. Something only barely hinted at, but its mere suggestion was so alluring that Noodles had to go find out for himself.
He excused himself from the festivities and began the descent, lower and lower into the earth. Past that obsidian cavern that the dwarves had hewn into crude short swords. Passed that wretched and starving lake, now little more than a pool of muddy bubbles that some mad engineer had dreamed of draining. Passed the bloody smears on the stone that had once been his brave mining brothers.
Deeper still, he went, until he came upon the misshapen form of the beast men's lair. An ominous chittering sounded from the depths, but Noodles had no fear. These... things... were mere insects compared to him. And once he had it... yes, once he had it he would put them in their place. He would put them all in their place.
They had promised him.
He climbed down the gore-stained steps and into the deepest recesses of the forbidden lair. There, he was it: the sword! Nobody else had thought to claim it! Fools, soon it would be his!
He caressed the pommel with the back of his hand, savoring the moment, then reached out and claimed the weapon as his own.
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Goddamnit, Noodles.
The deepest reaches of the fort are now overrun by horrible horrible monsters. How horribly you ask? Let's see how WITHCRAFT Jr.'s day is going.
WITCHCRAFT Jr. Wasn't allowed to join the party. Mommy and Daddy said he had to go to sleep early so he could get up for school the next day.
No fun! WITCHCRAFT WANTS FUN!
He snuck out into the dormitory hallway. All the party-goers were still upstairs in the great hall, feasting and making merry. Even through that din, he could hear a distinct "hop hop thump" sound coming up from the central staircase. He peered into the darkness towards the direction of the sound, when a colossal bunny rabbit oozed out of the shadows and into the hallway in front of him.
"Well hello there Mr. Bunny Bun! What ar--"
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The Militia, exhausted after their last battle, is in no condition to fight. The Dwarves only hope for survival is to build a wall around the central staircase, and isolate the main floor from the perils at the top-and-bottom of the stairs. Safe and secure with all the food reserves they could ever need, their only hope for escape is to throw open the main gates of the fort and pray that the goblins and spectral figures eradicate one another.
Construction has already begun on the interior walls. All dwarves are to report to the great hall immediately. The protective barriers will not be lowered for latecomers.
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To make matters more fun, they are all undead. I'm not sure what that means, but I bet it's bad.
Adding to the excitement, the goblins have shown up by the dozen. They have brought a multitude of Cave Crawlers, and other bizarre monsters.
I have sealed the main gate while our warriors deal with the Zombie-Beast men.
The militia arrives at the underground citadel to find the bodies of SP1N, Bernie, DwarfBob, and Bulzur, sucked dry of blood and mutilated beyond reason. They take off in hot putsuit of a swarm of Mosquito men, easily defeating the horrible insectoid... things.
They enter the forbidden walls, and fine more bodies still: Pistachio, Shadowren, Bolo, CrazyEddy, and Dazed were taken by the beasts as well. The entire force of miners has been slain.
Hot for vengeance Shana leads a charge. The armless Baron is overwhelmed, and hurled to the ground by a flock of Parakeet Men. Their beaks produce a hideously juicy sounds as they peck and Shana's eyes. She managed to bite one in the arm, shattering the femur, before a wily Gila man clobbers her in the skull, crushing the brain.
RIP.
For some reason, the livestock has followed the militia into the depths. The Water Buffalo has proven itself to be a mighty adversary. It's charge leveled two of the undead beasts, and it used its horns to gore a third. But the Buffalo's excess of aggression has left in vulnerable to counterattack. A mosquito man stabs his needle-like proboscis into the water buffalo's guts and begins to drain the beast's lifeforce. Unsure of how else to react, the Water Buffalo begins retching all over the place, adding partially digested grass bits to the already repulsive melange of odors in the air.
As the last of the zombie beastmen falls (re)dead, the dwarves notice an Adamantite scimitar placed conspicuously next to a glowing floor panel.
AUTUMN 136:
There was a great feast to commemorate the passing of Baron Shana, and the noble sacrifice of our mining team. The goblins still besiege us, but our food stores are beyond counting and there is no threat of starvation.
It was at that feast that Noodles, perhaps far less intoxicated than he needed to be, began to hear the voices. A sort of whispering that seemed to permeate every corner of the great dining hall. He could barely make out any of the words, if indeed they were words, that slithered up from the deep, beneath the cracks in the mortars. There was something... special there. Something only barely hinted at, but its mere suggestion was so alluring that Noodles had to go find out for himself.
He excused himself from the festivities and began the descent, lower and lower into the earth. Past that obsidian cavern that the dwarves had hewn into crude short swords. Passed that wretched and starving lake, now little more than a pool of muddy bubbles that some mad engineer had dreamed of draining. Passed the bloody smears on the stone that had once been his brave mining brothers.
Deeper still, he went, until he came upon the misshapen form of the beast men's lair. An ominous chittering sounded from the depths, but Noodles had no fear. These... things... were mere insects compared to him. And once he had it... yes, once he had it he would put them in their place. He would put them all in their place.
They had promised him.
He climbed down the gore-stained steps and into the deepest recesses of the forbidden lair. There, he was it: the sword! Nobody else had thought to claim it! Fools, soon it would be his!
He caressed the pommel with the back of his hand, savoring the moment, then reached out and claimed the weapon as his own.
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Goddamnit, Noodles.
The deepest reaches of the fort are now overrun by horrible horrible monsters. How horribly you ask? Let's see how WITHCRAFT Jr.'s day is going.
WITCHCRAFT Jr. Wasn't allowed to join the party. Mommy and Daddy said he had to go to sleep early so he could get up for school the next day.
No fun! WITCHCRAFT WANTS FUN!
He snuck out into the dormitory hallway. All the party-goers were still upstairs in the great hall, feasting and making merry. Even through that din, he could hear a distinct "hop hop thump" sound coming up from the central staircase. He peered into the darkness towards the direction of the sound, when a colossal bunny rabbit oozed out of the shadows and into the hallway in front of him.
"Well hello there Mr. Bunny Bun! What ar--"
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The Militia, exhausted after their last battle, is in no condition to fight. The Dwarves only hope for survival is to build a wall around the central staircase, and isolate the main floor from the perils at the top-and-bottom of the stairs. Safe and secure with all the food reserves they could ever need, their only hope for escape is to throw open the main gates of the fort and pray that the goblins and spectral figures eradicate one another.
Construction has already begun on the interior walls. All dwarves are to report to the great hall immediately. The protective barriers will not be lowered for latecomers.
(click to show/hide)
Here's the current situation:
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From a high of ~150 dwarves, we're now down to about 100.
Most of that number made it to the safety of the main floor. The main floor has been walled off from the main staircase (RED). 30 seconds after the walls were completed, that RED area is now swarming with demons.
By happy chance, the main floor has all of our important agriculture, industry, medical, and housing requirements. It should be a reliable bunker for us to shelter in until the trouble passes. We will not starve, and we will not die of thirst. The walls should keep us safe, from further goblin/demon attacks but you never know.
The biggest threat now comes from dwarves losing their shit and turning homicidal. (Losing 1/3 of your population overnight has a way of crusing a dwarf's frail psyche). Mae, Johammeth, and Oohilac are now "Miserable."
I have just ordered the main gates to be opened. Hopefully the goblins and demons kill each other off before we turn on one another.
The Gobblins flooded into the main stairwell, attacked the gobblins, and died horribly. Perhaps they killed some of the demons.
In any case, it's time for MASS CONSCRIPTION. We will only grow weaker. If we can re-capture the weapons cache on the top floor, perhaps our unarmed, unarmored, untrained peasants will stand a chance against the ineffable horror that we discovered beneath the earth.
We have roughly 80 dwarves capable of fighting.
Only 30 of those are trained soldiers with equipment. The forces rally, and prepare for one last stand..
I order the remaining masons to disassemble the protective walls, and we charge up the st--
A gout of flame lances down the central staircase, instantly incinerating half of the army. The newly-conscripted peasants break immediately, running back to the main floor and leaving the veteran soldiers to be eaten alive by an assortment of hideous demons.
With the defenders dead and the walls breached, demons now stalk the hallway of the dwarves last refuge. Only 1 dwarf survives.
The body of Oohilac, right foot broken, clings to life on the shores of the great underwater lake. He was out fishing when an indescribably loathsome demon rose up out of the water and kicked him in the foot hard enough to send his feeble frame flying ten yards into the murky water. Unconscious, he floated along with the current until his leather vest caught on a protruding rock.
He fades back into consciousness, dimly aware of his surroundings. He feels cold. He sees nothing but darkness, and smells only the filth of this unclean waterway. There is a funereal stillness about the chamber. The miners are gone now. He remembers seeing what the could only guess was their remains.
The only sound now is the greedy sucking of the drainage pipes, slurping away at the remains of the lake. Down there in that black chamber there was only water. Not the demons from below, and not the goblin hordes from above. Just darkness, quiet, and water.
Darkness... quiet.... water... Those things had never seemed more appealing to him than just then. Without even knowing it, he released his grip on the jagged rocks. He surrendered his body to the caress of the river, and its current carried him away from all the horrors of the ruined fortress and into that forgotten abyss.
And so passed Oohilac, last of cRPGkind, who voluntarily drowned himself in the great cistern beneath SLAPMERCHANT in the Winter of the year 136.
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From a high of ~150 dwarves, we're now down to about 100.
Most of that number made it to the safety of the main floor. The main floor has been walled off from the main staircase (RED). 30 seconds after the walls were completed, that RED area is now swarming with demons.
By happy chance, the main floor has all of our important agriculture, industry, medical, and housing requirements. It should be a reliable bunker for us to shelter in until the trouble passes. We will not starve, and we will not die of thirst. The walls should keep us safe, from further goblin/demon attacks but you never know.
The biggest threat now comes from dwarves losing their shit and turning homicidal. (Losing 1/3 of your population overnight has a way of crusing a dwarf's frail psyche). Mae, Johammeth, and Oohilac are now "Miserable."
I have just ordered the main gates to be opened. Hopefully the goblins and demons kill each other off before we turn on one another.
The Gobblins flooded into the main stairwell, attacked the gobblins, and died horribly. Perhaps they killed some of the demons.
In any case, it's time for MASS CONSCRIPTION. We will only grow weaker. If we can re-capture the weapons cache on the top floor, perhaps our unarmed, unarmored, untrained peasants will stand a chance against the ineffable horror that we discovered beneath the earth.
We have roughly 80 dwarves capable of fighting.
Only 30 of those are trained soldiers with equipment. The forces rally, and prepare for one last stand..
I order the remaining masons to disassemble the protective walls, and we charge up the st--
A gout of flame lances down the central staircase, instantly incinerating half of the army. The newly-conscripted peasants break immediately, running back to the main floor and leaving the veteran soldiers to be eaten alive by an assortment of hideous demons.
With the defenders dead and the walls breached, demons now stalk the hallway of the dwarves last refuge. Only 1 dwarf survives.
The body of Oohilac, right foot broken, clings to life on the shores of the great underwater lake. He was out fishing when an indescribably loathsome demon rose up out of the water and kicked him in the foot hard enough to send his feeble frame flying ten yards into the murky water. Unconscious, he floated along with the current until his leather vest caught on a protruding rock.
He fades back into consciousness, dimly aware of his surroundings. He feels cold. He sees nothing but darkness, and smells only the filth of this unclean waterway. There is a funereal stillness about the chamber. The miners are gone now. He remembers seeing what the could only guess was their remains.
The only sound now is the greedy sucking of the drainage pipes, slurping away at the remains of the lake. Down there in that black chamber there was only water. Not the demons from below, and not the goblin hordes from above. Just darkness, quiet, and water.
Darkness... quiet.... water... Those things had never seemed more appealing to him than just then. Without even knowing it, he released his grip on the jagged rocks. He surrendered his body to the caress of the river, and its current carried him away from all the horrors of the ruined fortress and into that forgotten abyss.
And so passed Oohilac, last of cRPGkind, who voluntarily drowned himself in the great cistern beneath SLAPMERCHANT in the Winter of the year 136.
THE END.
6
General Discussion / What's your reaction when you pick up a shiny new +3?
« on: April 25, 2014, 08:10:11 pm »
This is basically how I feel.
7
Scene Editing / A couple of questions (Moving parts?)
« on: April 04, 2014, 06:38:00 pm »
Howdy,
I'm thinking about checking out the scene editor, and I've poked around some of the threads/videos about the scene editor.
I just wanted to ask a few questions before I take the plunge.
I used to do a fair amount of mapping for Quake/Halflife and related mods, so that's the lens through which I see this.
Is it fair to say that, speaking generally, the scene editor is all about shaping+texturing terrain, then adding in appropriate pre-fabricated objects (towers, buildings, etc)?
Does the MnB scene editor allow you to have moving objects? I know you can have prefab gates/ladders, etc. that move, but this isn't really what I'm after.
Is it possible to make an object (lets say, a prefab ship) move along a path?
(eg, it goes around in a circle from A to B, to C, to D to A
A B
C D
Is it possible to make the ground (land mesh?) move in game? (eg: live in game, a flat plain swells into a small hill)
Cheers!
I'm thinking about checking out the scene editor, and I've poked around some of the threads/videos about the scene editor.
I just wanted to ask a few questions before I take the plunge.
I used to do a fair amount of mapping for Quake/Halflife and related mods, so that's the lens through which I see this.
Is it fair to say that, speaking generally, the scene editor is all about shaping+texturing terrain, then adding in appropriate pre-fabricated objects (towers, buildings, etc)?
Does the MnB scene editor allow you to have moving objects? I know you can have prefab gates/ladders, etc. that move, but this isn't really what I'm after.
Is it possible to make an object (lets say, a prefab ship) move along a path?
(eg, it goes around in a circle from A to B, to C, to D to A
A B
C D
Is it possible to make the ground (land mesh?) move in game? (eg: live in game, a flat plain swells into a small hill)
Cheers!
8
General Discussion / Now that flags are broken, we need to make this map.
« on: April 04, 2014, 04:14:55 am »9
General Discussion / Troll-buff the class that just killed you.
« on: March 24, 2014, 04:10:32 am »
Crossbowmen now deal double damage while reloading.
10
General Discussion / The QWERTY crutching HAS TO STOP!
« on: March 07, 2014, 03:34:12 am »
Hello,
Poor people from developing nation like me cannot to afford a gooder keyboard.
This is what i use as machine type.
I recently get promote to overseer shark dentist at factory.
Now have much money and want to buy american fancy keyboard.
I try to play on american fancy keyboard and QWERTY is too easy i saw anyone who use QWERTY is just key crutcher and not of the very good game plyer.
in conclusion as we say on the line "some shark tooth bite some shark tooth just for show"
if you use keyboard with QWERTY you are just a tooth for show
Poor people from developing nation like me cannot to afford a gooder keyboard.
This is what i use as machine type.
I recently get promote to overseer shark dentist at factory.
Now have much money and want to buy american fancy keyboard.
I try to play on american fancy keyboard and QWERTY is too easy i saw anyone who use QWERTY is just key crutcher and not of the very good game plyer.
in conclusion as we say on the line "some shark tooth bite some shark tooth just for show"
if you use keyboard with QWERTY you are just a tooth for show
11
General Discussion / Voice Commands are now Magic Spells.
« on: February 14, 2014, 05:03:33 am »
What is your favorite spell and what does it do?
I vote for:
QFR: Ahh-CHUZZ!
Causes all nearby archers to drop their bows and arrows.
I vote for:
QFR: Ahh-CHUZZ!
Causes all nearby archers to drop their bows and arrows.
12
General Discussion / The official "Let's Help Tydeus" thread.
« on: February 02, 2014, 01:29:40 am »
Being a game balancer is a thankless job that entails lots of hard work.
I plan to correct this tragedy with a double-headed thrust of internet-philanthropy.
First, to address the issue of being a thankless job:
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Tydeus, you're doing a great job. I like the changes. Cheers!
Second, to lighten your burden:
At the heart of game balancing is the ability to determine what changes need to be made. This is where we, as a community, can make Tydeus' job easier by listing essential changes that he has accidentally overlooked. I would urge you all to post your brilliant suggestions in this thread, so that we can make Tydeus' job just a wee bit easier.
I think it is extremely unrealistic that striking a palm tree does not cause a torrent of coconuts to issue forth from its verdant plumage. This really breaks my immersion. I mean, come on! These coconuts would have no effect on most players, but anybody wielding an axe would be able to break them open and restore 1 HP. I think this is a great change that would make 1H axes a much more appealing weapon type.
Tydeus can you add the ability to use the flat of your blade to 'spank' an enemy, instead of cutting them? I think this would add some deep gameplay options (after you spank someone, they are sure to come after you for revenge) and would in no way encourage late-round delay/bro-coding. I think this would be an excellent way of helping new players into the game, as the old veterans simply spank young whippersnappers instead of killing them immediately.
Tydeus can you add a hydration meter to the game? Characters would start with 2 minutes worth of 'water' stored in their system, before they have to go find scene objects to drink. A dehydrated character would be slower and much weaker. Fighting in heavy armor is hard work, so I think this would be a good and very realistic change. (Sorry if this is the plan for the beer mugs and I ruined your surprise).
I hope that I have made your job a little bit easier on this fine day, and I hope that the rest of the community will chip in to lend Tydeus a hand (feel free to offer him suggestions in game, where he most appreciates our help).
I plan to correct this tragedy with a double-headed thrust of internet-philanthropy.
First, to address the issue of being a thankless job:
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Tydeus, you're doing a great job. I like the changes. Cheers!
Second, to lighten your burden:
At the heart of game balancing is the ability to determine what changes need to be made. This is where we, as a community, can make Tydeus' job easier by listing essential changes that he has accidentally overlooked. I would urge you all to post your brilliant suggestions in this thread, so that we can make Tydeus' job just a wee bit easier.
I think it is extremely unrealistic that striking a palm tree does not cause a torrent of coconuts to issue forth from its verdant plumage. This really breaks my immersion. I mean, come on! These coconuts would have no effect on most players, but anybody wielding an axe would be able to break them open and restore 1 HP. I think this is a great change that would make 1H axes a much more appealing weapon type.
Tydeus can you add the ability to use the flat of your blade to 'spank' an enemy, instead of cutting them? I think this would add some deep gameplay options (after you spank someone, they are sure to come after you for revenge) and would in no way encourage late-round delay/bro-coding. I think this would be an excellent way of helping new players into the game, as the old veterans simply spank young whippersnappers instead of killing them immediately.
Tydeus can you add a hydration meter to the game? Characters would start with 2 minutes worth of 'water' stored in their system, before they have to go find scene objects to drink. A dehydrated character would be slower and much weaker. Fighting in heavy armor is hard work, so I think this would be a good and very realistic change. (Sorry if this is the plan for the beer mugs and I ruined your surprise).
I hope that I have made your job a little bit easier on this fine day, and I hope that the rest of the community will chip in to lend Tydeus a hand (feel free to offer him suggestions in game, where he most appreciates our help).
13
General Discussion / Weather.
« on: January 24, 2014, 09:03:46 pm »
-Night is awful, because you can't see shit.
-Dawn is just night by another name, since every map is a valley whose cliffs block the sun.
-Rain is shit because in addition to blinding you, it reduces everybody's combat effectiveness because "fuck you."
-Fog is shit because you can't see a damn thing, much less the archer with a no-fog "mod" (read: cheat) that just headshot you.
What do all of these weather modes have in common? They cast everything in an emo-gray pall of of monotony and eye strain.
"Hey look, that dull gray shape set against a dull gray background is feinting a dull gray object at me. I'd better lean in and squint so I can position my own dull gray weapon for a proper block!
...
Fuck this, I can't see shit. I'm gonna go do something more fun and less painful like chop an entire bag of onions!"
Rant over.
---------------------
As it stands, dark-shitty-emo weather is the norm for any given map.
A bright, clear, "high noon" map where you can actually see what's happening is quite rare.
This should be reversed.
The "random" weather percentages need to be fiddled with so that sunny-and-clear is far and away the most common weather type, occasionally punctuated by snow, dark, fog, etc. (hell even the orange fart weather is nice every now and then!).
I have included a suitably dark version of this post for those of you who enjoy night maps:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
-Dawn is just night by another name, since every map is a valley whose cliffs block the sun.
-Rain is shit because in addition to blinding you, it reduces everybody's combat effectiveness because "fuck you."
-Fog is shit because you can't see a damn thing, much less the archer with a no-fog "mod" (read: cheat) that just headshot you.
What do all of these weather modes have in common? They cast everything in an emo-gray pall of of monotony and eye strain.
"Hey look, that dull gray shape set against a dull gray background is feinting a dull gray object at me. I'd better lean in and squint so I can position my own dull gray weapon for a proper block!
...
Fuck this, I can't see shit. I'm gonna go do something more fun and less painful like chop an entire bag of onions!"
Rant over.
---------------------
As it stands, dark-shitty-emo weather is the norm for any given map.
A bright, clear, "high noon" map where you can actually see what's happening is quite rare.
This should be reversed.
The "random" weather percentages need to be fiddled with so that sunny-and-clear is far and away the most common weather type, occasionally punctuated by snow, dark, fog, etc. (hell even the orange fart weather is nice every now and then!).
I have included a suitably dark version of this post for those of you who enjoy night maps:
visitors can't see pics , please register or login
14
Suggestions Corner / Make objects between the camera and your character transparent.
« on: January 16, 2014, 10:46:35 pm »
Foliage/flags etc. is cool.
Foliage/flags etc. blocking your view of yourself is not.
Scene objects that come between the player's camera and the player's model should turn transparent, so the player can actually see what they are doing.
It's probably too late in the game to implement this "feature" (if we are allowed to boast non-retarded camerawork as a feature) but hypothetically speaking if anybody here was developing their own melee combat game, this would be a nice bit of polish whose excellence is matched only by its obviousness.
Foliage/flags etc. blocking your view of yourself is not.
Scene objects that come between the player's camera and the player's model should turn transparent, so the player can actually see what they are doing.
It's probably too late in the game to implement this "feature" (if we are allowed to boast non-retarded camerawork as a feature) but hypothetically speaking if anybody here was developing their own melee combat game, this would be a nice bit of polish whose excellence is matched only by its obviousness.
15
Spam / cRPG whiteys have no soul and can't dance.
« on: January 03, 2014, 10:42:22 am »
Drop your go-to soul/funk jams here to prove that you've got enough groove to move.
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