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[fortydayweekend]

Ode to the Ten Miners

Urist 1 was having fun
Digging out a well
He channelled straight
But stopped too late
20 z levels he fell

Urist 2, he died too
Digging out a lignite seam
He had no fear
Of damp stone near
Now he's floating off downstream

Urist 3 fought a sea lamprey
And came off second best
Back teeth dislodged
Off the bridge she dodged
In the river she now rests

Urists 4, 5, 6, and 7
Were digging a cistern (11x11)
My focus lapsed
The cavern collapsed
And sent them up off to dwarfy heaven

Urist 8 arrived too late
To escape the goblin attack
His ghost was resentful
Things got quite eventful
Til we inscribed his name on a plaque

Urist 9 was supposed to be fine
And survive long in my fort as a miner
But into oblivion
While casting obsidian
Was her fate... we still cannot find her

So Urist the 10th, of uncommon strength
Grab your pick and whistle your work-song
Your new job ain't so rough
Just mine out this blue stuff
And relax! What could possibly go wrong?

[doublestrafe]

I gave the sword  to Rovod
And I said to keep it well,
That she may learn the warrior's ways
And face invaders fell.

The sword was forged of adamant,
With blood-parched edges dread
But when at last the foe arrived,
She used her child instead.

[fortydayweekend]

I gave the sword  to Rovod
And I said to keep it well,
That she may learn the warrior's ways
And face invaders fell.

The sword was forged of adamant,
With blood-parched edges dread
But when at last the foe arrived,
She used her child instead.

Love it

[RailroadRider]

My contribution:

(Two friends stare at a computer screen in a dark room)
Friend 1: Never gets old, eh?
Friend 2: Nope.
Friend 1: Kinda makes you wanna...
Friend 2: Break into song?
Friend 1: Yup.

Singer:
I love collapses,
I love this Giant Sponge,
I love the circus,
I love this mermaid's guts,
I love Dwarf Fortress,
And all it's crazy dorfs,
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
I love your burning,
I love a wagon thrall,
I love Forgotten beasts,
I love Boatmurdered's fall.
I love Dwarf Fortress,
And all it's boogiemen.
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
I love this dragon,
I love my magma,
I love wierd artifacts,
I love this spider,
I love Dwarf Fortress,
This game is pretty cool!
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!
Boom de yada!

[doublestrafe]

My contribution:

(snip)

I know I'm supposed to hear this but all I can hear is this.

[doublestrafe]

Ok. So, uh, Mr. Whitman, and while I'm at it, Mr. Lincoln? I just want you to know, I really actually do feel bad about this. I'm genuinely a terrible person.


O Catten! My Catten! the darksome hole is dug;
The glowing pits are emptied, and the the soldiers loiter, smug;
Plump helmet roasts and sunshine toasts and children throwing parties
While stout arms lade the minecarts with a great "Heave-ho, my hearties!"

But O heart! heart! heart!
O face so pale and wan
For 'neath his pick my Catten lies
His upper body's gone.

O Catten! My Catten! 'Twere best you did not rise
This biome isn't evil, though our captured necro tries.
But would you walked, for now your name is trumpeted in glory
Your sacrifice was meet; it made a nifty fortress story.

O Catten! Dear Miner!
Bedecked with cabochon
Your monument is honored, but
Your upper body's gone.

My Catten does not answer, his braided beard is still;
I have not found his lower leg, and fear I never will;
The pick with which the tube he pierced, and victory presaged
We'll place within his tomb, soon as a hauler can be paged.

Exult, O dwarves, and fill the halls!
But I this denoument
Shall memorize, as Catten lies:
His upper body's gone.

[Doktoro Reichard]

My contribution:

(snip)

Where's the mention to hot magma?

Nonetheless, someone somewhere needs to sing this.

As for me... here's my take on the man from Nantucket. As I can't make Nantucket in Dwarf, the closest I got was Nantunkethil (I read it nan-tun-ket-hill), which translates to "The Unnameable Door-Principle"

    There once was a dwarf from Nantunkethil
    Who kept his head inside a bucket.
        But his daughter, named Nan,
        Fell pray to a boogieman
    And as for the bucket, Nantunkethil.

    But the daughter, intents malign
    To a Necromancer was brought in shine.
        And as she wake
        From the master she take
    A waterskin of Sunshine

    The wrench with force sublime
    The master's head bit off in time
        From a pocket a book drops
        That puts the wrench in tops
    The book was full of grime

    The daughter returns to Nantunkethil
    Where a dwarf kept his head inside a bucket
        From the grimy book's strife
        Puts the dwarf's head to life
    And as for the bucket, Nantunkethil.

    Daughter and father reunite
    Until a siege beckons fight
        The heads of goblins are bit off
        Until one begins to scoff
    That the husks he smote in fright

    In her final bed the daughter lies
    Uttering words between cries
        This is one lousy pun
        But Losing is Fun
    And this ode finally dies.

[Porpoisepower]

My contribution:

(snip)

I know I'm supposed to hear this but all I can hear is this.

THIS

[RailroadRider]

My contribution:

(snip)

Where's the mention to of hot magma? 

EDIT: Added to original post.

[Loud Whispers]

Ode to Urist

I remember when I first saw Urist,
Whose ASCII tile's smile was the purest,
He worked hard and strong under Sunshine's song,
A work that lasts as long as lifelong.

I remember when I never saw Urist,
To sell to our elf-eared tourists,
The depot was dwarfless and Urist was gone,
Eating minced sugar and pig tail spawn.

I remember when I last saw Urist,
In the caverns he fell I'm surest,
His crossbow he'd draw into the badger fiend's maw,
Yet still he would fall to the floor.

[ImagoDeo]

A foolish young elf in a caravan
Says, "Sell me wood? You BARBARIAN!"
In rage, the dwarf shouts,
"Pull the lever, you louts!
We'll see how he likes our obsidian!"

[TD1]

The Dwarves of olden times were dead,
He’d slept for years beyond the count.
When Urist first raised up his head
He rose to mine his stony mount.
The Toad, the Three toed man and all,
Were there to wish him fairest well;
They grinned and laughed upon his death
And sneered about his new-built hall,
He mined the depths and fought all hell
And in his stores he hoarded wealth.

Oh Urist never got a chance,
His fate was worse than ours,
He lived inside a wormy hole;
His life, it spanned no more than hours.