Also one of the first times I've ever not been angry when something in my life fails catastrophically. It was just too epic. A goblin ambush appeared north of my fortress, consisting of four archers and a swordsman. About ten squares away was a hunter. I drafted him, hoping he could take potshots at them. Never in my life have I seen someone pierced by more arrows. Saint Sebastian would've been jealous. Unfortunately, my entire fortress was outside, as we had just received the largest caravan I've ever seen(3 wagons, four or five mules, it was insane).
They say a dwarf can smell unowned socks up to five miles away. Fully half of my fort's denizens charged that dead body, intent on claiming his possessions. I forbid the items, but not before the arrows started flying. The peasant in front(we'll call him Fasty, because he was fast) quickly began to regret his speed. Shortly afterward he ceased to regret, and breathe.
My Elite wrestler, Erush, charged into battle, axe gleaming. To make a long story short, he died. Everyone died. My favorite dwarf, Ral something, left a trail of blood all the way to the goblins, then began to crawl away, leading to a giant red, backward 7 on the ground. He died, like everyone else. The caravan guards helped a bit, but they mostly just stood there, stupid guards.
Another ambush appeared to the east, and began to approach my fortress. Keep in mind, my entrance was surrounded by a spiral wall full of cage and weapon traps, so they could never get in there. I thought my fortress was impenetrable. Like everything else I think, it was a stupid thought. In the hopes of keeping my stockpiles underground, I had set up an underground tunnel to the nearby loam hill, deciding that if it was loam, there'd be no rocks, and I'd be able to store more stuff. When hollowing it out, I left a spot where the wall went diagonally. The goblins proceeded to walk through the gap, where my farmers, engravers(I don't know why), metalworkers, and pretty much everyone else, was working on various stupid things. By this point, the carnage was lowering my FPS significantly, and the slowing-down effect was enhanced by the Gregorian chant to which I was headbanging.
Result: A haunting scene where my unarmed workers ran from the goblins, who chased them down and dismembered them, in slow motion, to beautiful music. It was like something in a movie, except I knew everyone in the movie. The resident blacksmith ran out of his foundry to investigate, and was shot at point blank range by a goblin crossbowman. My legendary engraver's arms were cut off, and he was sent flying across the room. My mayor(Formerly my favorite soldier, she was pulled into an underground lake by named Frogmen and Olmmen, and tore them apart with her bare hands), didn't even put up a fight. At this point I had lost about 30 dwarves, leaving 20 cowering in the main fortress area, with the dining room, bedrooms, and all that nonsense. The only thing that saved them was a pack of dogs that loyally protected their masters, killing any goblins that went down. All the while, my last soldier was sleeping in the barracks.
About the time the last of the dogs bled to death, my woodworker went berserk. I looked at the dining room, and there was a huge cloud of miasma. Dwarves were running out of it, I imagine screaming like girls. Out of the miasma calmly walks the axe murderer. He proceeds to decapitate a farmer, and continue to chase the rest of the dwarves. The last guard put up a decent fight, managed to give him a brown wound to his spine, and broke his leg. The psycho finally bled to death, and the fortress was no longer interesting, so I abandoned and came back as a swordsman. That was three in-game weeks or so later, and only one berserk jeweler was left. He was pretty cool.
I think the lesson to be learned here, is DO NOT SELL YOUR ANVIL. It took me four years to manage to buy one, and I only had enough time to equip like three guys before they attacked, and all the plate armor and battle axes in the world couldn't save me from the goblin menace. What a wonderful, terrible, gory mess of a fortress.
[ April 24, 2008: Message edited by: Cthulhu ]
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Topic: My First Real Battle (Read 835 times)