Had my first fortress that actually died (rather than being abandoned).
It started off well. A quick scout of the beach location revealed a caldera, obsidian, hematite and aluminium, as well as a low loamy cliff to rapidly dig a fortress into. Sure, it was a scorching hot place, but our surveyors assured us that there was an aquifer just below the surface that would provide us with water. Besides, with the loamy fortress ideal for crop production, we would be assured of plenty of wine to drink.
Our hunter set to work seeking and killing the abundant local gorilla population, and we quickly had a nice little industry set up producing high quality gorilla leather armour. Next the farms were set up, and were producing a lovely crop of plump helmets, ready for viniculture. Thinking we had the basics for survival covered, our ambitions grew, and we mined an extensive system to tap into the magma source and start smelting iron and aluminium.
The first sign of trouble came when our hunter was injured bravely taking down a leopard that was threatening the camp. Although he was being cared for, he lost his appetite for wine, and demanded water, which we could not yet provide. Shortly after, he died of thirst, but since our successful start had attracted a number of replacements with similar skills, while sad at his loss, we knew we could survive.
Of course, in assuming that his death was a one-off, we made the mistake that ultimately cost the life of everyone in the fortress. Yes, the hunter had died while resting an injury, but he had been thirsty long before that. Too late, we realised that in our zeal to get the precious iron, we had neglected to brew any wine. Our cooks were quickly ordered to make some replacements, but by now all of the barrels had been filled with gorilla fat.
The desperate thirst was now beginning to drive all of the dwarves mad. Everyone was ordered to make barrels from wood, iron, aluminium, anything. Too late. Most died on their way to their workshops, or in their delerium took it upon themselves to perform the most menial of tasks.
The last two were given strict instructions to do nothing but make barrels or brew wine. One heroic carpenter dragged himself to the workshop and managed to turn the last remnants of the wagons that brought us into a precious, precious barrel to hold the wine, breathing his last as he banged in the final nail. The remaining dwarf, stricken with grief at the loss of his friends, grasped at the barrel. But the thirst had taken his mind, and he could no longer think straight. He took the blessed container and stuffed it full of gorilla fat, before dying a sad and lonely death dragging it back to the food stores.
I really wish the Manager could "manage" the fortress for you, such as maintaining minimum/maximum stocks. And the priority given to difference game events is insane: "Oh look, you dug down through that Microcline and found...more Microcline! Better pause the game and centre on the momentous occasion!" But "You've run out of wine and water, and all your dwarves will be dead within a week? Nah, you don't need to be informed of that!"