Let's Play Dwarf Fortress - Skeletal WHAT?!

[Thadius]

Power.

The drive, the need, the quest for more power never really changed. Oh, the story had a few differing details each time, but at its core, it remained unchanged. In fact, the story itself was so old, it was older than Time Itself.

Long ago, the gods themselves waged war...on each other. Armies were raised that could crush entire civilizations, had they existed. Blows were struck that could rent asunder mountains, had they earth to hold onto. In the end, the gods realized this fight was fruitless. There was no way any god could claim another's power for themselves.

Not on their own, anyway.

So they thought, long and hard, about the one thing that could destroy them more effectively than each other. They found that the answer was merely Time. If they waited, the weaker ones would fade out, slowly, until at last, only the strongest would remain. This was not a viable solution, because even the strongest would be as weak as a puppy by then. It was not really a competition if all they did was wait.

It took another god, a younger one, to realize the true answer. They could create a world, he said, full of mortal beings. Their worship, their devotion would strengthen the gods. Those that did well by the mortals would earn their praise and survive longer than those that did not.

The solution was accepted as the one they were looking for, and so the gods created Minbazushul, The Enchanted Realm. They all agreed that they would walk the world among the mortals for 45 years, and at the end of that time, they would return unto the heavens, never to interfere directly in mortal affairs again until the end of times, when the world must be destroyed and remade after fulfilling its purpose.

And so the gods walked the world, performing miracles for the mortals, helping those in need, and staying out of each others way as much as possible. Where the good gods walked, the mountains sang and the forests blossomed. Evil gods blighted the lands they passed over, turning the dead themselves into hideous creatures.

After 45 years, the gods gathered again and ascended unto the heavens, only to find that it was far emptier than they remembered it being. The gods turned their gaze unto the land and found their armies had left the heavens as the gods returned. The dragons, hydras, collusi, and other assorted beasts roared unto the heavens. "We know what you plan," the creatures shouted. "You would have us fade out and die! You would destroy us! You used us and now you will toss us aside! We defy your will and will remain on this earth, destroying any and every mortal we can find! When none remain to worship you, all of you will wither and die, leaving us to live on after you!"

The gods did weep, not because the beasts had discovered any of their plans, but because their thinking was flawed. "We would have kept you among the heavens with us to last until the ending of the world," they replied, "But now it seems like you must remain where you are. You are in the mortal realm, and as such, it will turn you mortal. You can and will die, hunted by the mortals because you are different."

And so the beasts did roar mightily at the heavens, cursing their creators. And so did the megabeasts begin to plague the world.

It is at this time our tale must focus on one civilization. The elves skip merrily through their trees and take offense to anyone that dares think themselves better than them. The humans build their towns and attempt to repel the megabeasts daily, with varying degrees of success. And it would be rather boring to hear the tales of failed kobold or goblin or hobgoblin attacks on either of the aforementioned other civilizations.

Ah, but the dwarves...

They're quite interesting. When they begin digging into the rock face, they're in it for the long haul. Once a dwarf has picked a spot to settle, there's not a lot that can move him. They're devious, having mastered the fine art of using mechanisms to do work for them, and they've a rather broad definition of 'work.'

This, however, will be a rather special tale. It is no longer the Age of Myth, for that was when the gods walked the land freely. No, this is the Age of Legends. Much of the power of the gods still floats about, blessing or cursing entire plains and mountain ranges. Those that are gifted become Avatars of their god after absorbing enough of their still-latent power. It is an age where one can become a legend merely by living. And there is one legend we shall focus on...

1st Granite, 55

Dog carcass in disused hallway. Boot mark on burst stomach. This mountainhome is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The halls are extended butcher's shops, and the butcher's shops are full of blood. When the doors scab shut, all the vermin will drown.

They had a choice, all of them. They could have chosen to follow in the path of men like my father, who believed in an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. People who mined out new rooms and valuable ores for the good of everyone. Instead, they chose to follow the aristocracy and the nobles, not realizing their path led into the chasm until it was too late. And now that it is, nobody can think of anything to say.

Don't tell me they didn't have a choice.

15th Granite, 55

Well. It appears my, uh, 'antics' have drawn attention. Note to self, when defacing noble's rooms, it is generally not a good idea to sign your name. Leave that to the engravers, it is their job, not mine.

I've been called to a 'special meeting' which will feature several of Besmar Tarmid's higher-ups, including Olon Delltrade. I don't know why he needs the head of the military or the sage there with him, but it can't be good for me. If anyone's reading this and I didn't come back, well, now you know.

16th Granite, 55

Holy...that was some pretty heavy stuff. I've been told I can and should record it, I merely shouldn't tell anyone until...well, you'll see.

Basically it turns out we're under siege by some clever megabeasts. There's at least one dragon, and we know because he's burned all the local woodlands to ashen wastelands. I had wondered why my lumberjack pal was so upset. Well, now I know: he can't get any more wood for his crafts. I don't know why he'd want to go out anyways...

But yeah. No wood. Without more wood, we can't make more barrels. Without a supply of barrels, we can't brew beer any faster than we can drink it. And it turns out without a constant supply of barrels, we're going to run out, because we can drink booze pretty fast.

The mayor's taken four, five empty barrels, broken them apart carefully, and had a wagon made. Into it, he's loaded all of his personal stash of booze, quite a few seeds, and some meat. He's also advised I pick out two dogs and two cats. He plans to put in an anvil, some weapons, and a book containing schematics to every building dwarfkind knows.

Somewhere to the south, a small hill has been constructed that looks very much like a real one. Real enough to fool the megabeasts, at least. In secret, this is where the wagon will exit, carrying me and my supplies. I've also been told to pick out six of my closest buddies, with a varied set of skills.

...The mayor is sending us out of here, to build a better fort. This one didn't have quite enough protection, but hopefully we'll do better.

I was told to follow the river until the new year, and if the place looked suitable, set up camp there. Who knows what'll happen?

18th Granite, 55

It was horrible.

I gathered two other miners, a metalsmith, a woodworker, and two farmers. We were at the wagon at the appointed time. I checked to make sure everything was there, and surprisingly, it all was.

That was when things went wrong. Apparently the megabeasts figured out what the hill was for. One of the guards went outside to make sure the coast was clear.

It wasn't. He was skewered by a draconic claw. It pulled him out of sight, but a second later, two bloody chunks of dwarf fell to the ground.

The second guard pulled a lever. I'd been told ahead of time that it'd been linked to a bell in the barracks. If it rang, it would mean that the megabeasts were coming in the back door.

That was when the roof caved in and crushed the second guard like an accordion. Nobody told me there was a titan outside, or that titans could jump. There was only one way to survive.

We ran.

We got past the dragon decently - only the tail end of the wagon was hit by his firebreath, and we put it out with a bit of water before it got too bad. And the one ballista the mountianhome had was rotated around and fired quickly on the titan and dragon to drawn their attention.

Sadly, I already knew that while the ballista would be effective, there weren't a lot of bolts for it.

This morning I turned back and saw that the mountainhome had smoke coming from all the exits. We couldn't go back to check on our kin. We had a job to do.

We had to live. We had to carry on their memory. They deserve so much more, but this is all we can do for them now.

I...I don't think I can write much more. The memory is still fresh. The sun gazing down on me is horrible. It was so hard to write even this, but maybe I'll build up a resistance until we've found our new home. In case not and this is the last thing you see, I ask that you avenge Besmar Tarmid and all the dwarves that lived there.

(Much of the entries from this point on consist of simple inventory logs or notes on the wildlife. But finally...)

1st Granite, 56



We found our site. It doesn't look like much, but this is where we're going to try and do better than our home.



The first thing I noticed about this place is it's almost completely flat. This bodes ill for us.



Fortunately, we can see for miles in every direction, and there doesn't seem to be any wildlife. We've got plenty of time. So with that...



Workgill is founded. Let's get to it.



The first thing I do is clap gleefully at finding a small slope with a large enough rock-face. I begin mapping out in my mind how I want the tunnels to look...



And where I want the stockpiles to be. Until we hit some stone, we're better off not doing much else, but I do take note that we're going to need to dig down a ways. It's time to strike the earth.

10th Granite, 56



Wait what? Unicorns?



Oh! Hmm. Didn't plan on that. Fortunately, they aren't aggressive towards us. In fact, they seem to be actively avoiding us, which is odd. It's like we're not...

Well I know I am...

Right?

Anyways, they aren't a threat to us. But we should take note they show up in early springtime. Might be important later.



Also, I have begun planning out where the workshops will be. Hopefully they'll all fit. We won't need much in the early days, but I have been taught the importance of traps, wood, and barrels, and we'll procure things accordingly.

15th Granite, 56



Finally the entryway is done, and the farms are plotted. I have designated a large area of ramps to be removed from the environs, but not all. We don't want everything and anything jumping down from above, but we still want to be accessible. After all, there have to be other dwarves out there...other mountainhomes. We can't be the only ones.

The farmers don't seem to be too keen to gather the plants I have designated for removal from the landscape, so I threatened them at pickaxe-point.

I expect a rise in our food stocks very soon.

5th Slate, 56



The farms have been planted, finally. And I learned from home that an active trade depot is key to survival. You never know what those nutty humans or elves will show up with next, but if it's useful, you don't want to be the one looking embarrassed because they've no place to trade. I also built a little enclosure, I will turn it into another farm, one where we can grow these delicious strawberries. Once I've taken measures to protect it completely, that is.



I've also got around to designating where the sleeping quarters will be dug out. Our woodworker is making enough beds, and the miner-mason is busy building doors so we can have privacy. Naturally, as the leader of this hopefully-successful field trip, I have allocated somewhat larger quarters for myself. Should time permit it, all of the others will get similar treatment.

15th Slate, 56



Wait what? Skeletal marmots? How in the...

After a brief survey, I determined that there are indeed skeletal beings on the cursed plains above us. I'm not sure why they're marmots of all things, or even where they came from. I do hope that so long as nobody gets any bright ideas, we should be safe.

...No, that does not mean go chop them in half, Astesh.

5th Felsite, 56



Concerned once more for our safety in times of seige, I've begun building an indoors-outdoors refuse pit. We should still be able to access it while allowing the wind to take the smell of rotting corpses far away. The walls for the farm are finished, and we are finally growing some strawberries.

Might I say, they are delicious.

1st Hematite, 56



Summer has arrived, and my projects are proceeding nicely. The walls are ahead of schedule, but sadly, our sleeping space is still that of the ground. Hopefully, once the walls are done, we'll be able to turn our attention to sleeping space, then matters of security. I'm thinking a drawbridge...maybe a wide array of traps...

On a side note, the nearby ponds are evaporating. This could be very bad for us, I had designated one as our local watering hole. If it dries up, we'll need to find some way of getting at the river to the west without risking our skins.

----------

It's still early in the first year, but there are some things I'd like to point out.

->WILL
I will 'dwarf' people who ask nicely, doing my best to match you to what you asked to be 'dwarfed' as.
I will attempt to make this a 'One person one year' game, but that depends on a lot of things. First and foremost: How many people sign up. Secondly, I'm gonna need to find me a nice upload site for when its time to pass the save files on. Methinks megaupload might do it, but your suggestions are always welcome.

->WON'T
I will not, under quite a few circumstances, take any suggestion for making the game 'unplayable.' Such as 'Flood the place with lava/water' 'Look for the HFS' 'Declare war on someone.' It's only the first year, such decisions are best reserved for when you're trying to lose have fun.
I use traps, sue me. They're a good defense for an early fort. Later on if we've a big enough defense, I might take them down, but don't suggest 'Don't use traps.'
I also won't make a Doomsday Device. Not yet. Once again, year one. Also: I suck at that.
I won't install a tileset to decipher the game for non-dwarves. I tried that and screwed myself over many times. Later people can do it, but I won't.

The one thing I noted this map doesn't have is sand, so glass is gonna be a wee bit tricky. Everything else will be fun.

...Also, I apologize for the text-spam at the top, but the storyteller in me saw a chance and I failed utterly at squashing him. The rest of the chapters won't be so wordy.

Probably.