So, I have this story:
RougnessMeeting (est. 549) was thriving fortress. In 8 years, headcount reached 80, 30 of which were trained soldiers. Most labour was centered around masonry to build tripple wall (water moat + magma moat. 10 levels tall. just because we can.) and producing equipment for always growing military.
Basic necesities like beds were harsly ignored and postponed until more important constructions were done. Only luxury in dwarven life were strawberry roasts. Dining hall was just one table and chair under small roof, communal bedroom was just one bed. Dwarves had only confort of each other and friendhips grew intense. Many babies were born, many couples emerged.
The grand tantrum spiral started unoticed: Sworddwarf was kicked in head by horse. He was dragged to bed-tunnel to heal, but he died and rotted there. His wife suffered miscariage during horse-hunt and started fist fight. With sword in her hands, killing two dwarves.
Still, this was business as usual in RougnessMeeting. Except, this time, it continued. Dwarves started tantruming, two or three at a time, resulting in casualties when someone brought weapon to fistfight.
Still, if military was killed, peasant was drafted to replace him, if worker was killed, labor was enabled on peasant. Each month saw one or two deaths, but migrants were comming. Huddling together in dining-room shack and getting to know each other before being dwafted to army or to workforce.
For two years, fort was in starte of permanent tantrum. Rotting corpses friends were piling. And then, people started to really snap. First berserker was caught early and filled with bolts, only killing one bonecarver. Melancholy, Raving madness. seven just lost their mind withing minutes of each other, five berserks (two armed with axes and armoured in bronze) quickly reduced livestock in dining shack to nothing along with few children, babies and fellow dwarves.
Placing artifact bone weapon rack in dining shack did little to improve mental state of dwarves. If anything, inscriptions were motivating them to be even more gloomy and great dining hall was also great insult and everyone was too busy being angry to cook and brew.
Still, hunrgy and thirsty peasants were still drafted and given weapons to replace losses. But this time, they were drafted to police force. Goal was to simply end endless tantrums and administer fatal beatings to troublemakers.
That ended up being spectacual failure as two groups of iron-n-bronze armed dwarves met and hacked at each other, one side administering justice, other being angered by executed friends and comminting more crimes with axes and swords.
Eventually, fort came down to twenty so-so functioning adults, each red with anger (Tantrumists won).
Everyone had death wish, and they were going to get it: They all joined military, were issued dwarf-blood covered weapons and given order to redeem themselves. First target was spring elven caravan. It went down without much trouble, only two dwarves ended up dead. Seccond target was summer human caravan.
Humans were well armed and prepared, possibly because tantrumind dwarves destroyed depot during trade session year earlier. They still went down quickly, even if they managed to inflict heavy losses. But one human, lasher of legendary skill refused to fall. He hunted down dwarves and dogs and killed them all one by one. Only the wery last dwarf inflicted mortal wound.
Here we are, down to one dwarf and three children.
One calmed down happy dwarf who dined in legendary dining room, took joy in slaughter and enjoyed trully decadent meal. And then one page of meeting new friends, talking to them and seeing them decay (in no particular order)
Alright, you can all imagine what this is like: One dwarf rebuilding, welcoming migrant wave and fortress continuing with blank slate (except lots of rotten corpses and angry elves & humans).
This is not what happened. He died because he still had death wish and attacked dwarves caravan, decked in finest gear he could scavenge - artifact bone axe, artifact leather skirt and artifact bone gauntlet.
He was well relaxed when he died trying to behead liaison. Caravan quickly left and did not bother looking for anyone else.
Where we are. Three chilren. All adults dead. Landscape of unfinished grand construction, destoryed workshops and scattered goods and items. Trade deport full of food, drinks and elven & human corpses.
Children survived, being unable to do anything else than having tea parties in dining shack, they waited patiently for last adult to come back.
Long time, they lived on whatver they could scavenge. Unable to trade, they saw caravans come and go. They watched as most of edible food rotted. Noone came to take care of them.
Then, one of them decided to grow up.
Here we are, one young adult and two children. He became mayor of emptied construction site and soon after he presented himself to suprised dwarven liaison, migrants came.
So, this was how fort survived five year tantrum tornado with not not ten, not one, but zero dwarves.
20 pages of dead: Adults, Children, Dwarves that were there since day one and migrants who died during their first day.
Maybe it is finally time to build decent dining hall. And make first coffin. And then four hundred more.
It is about time to start burying people properly.
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So, what is YOUR most inspiring near-fun story?