Tim's comics were one of my main inspirations for starting dwarf fortressing, so I would like to write up my most dramatic story arc to date to submit for consideration. I can't wait to see your next dwarf fortress comic no matter which story it is!
Upon the world of Lathonthur, deep in The Crazed Desert, the dwarves stopped their caravan. There were no trees, there was no water, no mountains. The grass was exceedingly sparse, the red sand and rocks overabundant. No other civilizations had ever settled any part of this wasteland. But somehow the dwarves knew that deep in this ground the rocks were fine and rich with ore.
Strike the Earth!
The fortress was named Ottemlikot, SanctumInk. The dwarves called themselves The Patterned Stockade.
Cool caves were carved into the sand by the motivated miners to store food and goods. A small bedroom with only 2 beds for all to share was created. The only wood available was what they had brought themselves.
The animals were corraled in the desert, where they quickly ate the sparse grasses. The grass did not regrow here, and they were forced to move frequently.
Migrants and traders arrived. Booze was purchased for the fortress with craft goods. This was drunken with haste by the dwarves in the desert heat. This was all there was to drink, as there was no water here. The brewer was understandably the most popular dwarf in the fortress.
An unfortunate incident with a wild animal left one dwarf infirm in the hospital. The dwarf quickly perished of thirst, as there was no water to give him. None of the dwarves thought to pass him a pail of precious beer or wine to save his life.
The decision was made to dig a shaft straight down until water could be found.
The brave miners with their skins full of wine quickly found an immense underground cavern. Explorers were sent out. They discovered rich veins of metal and patches of natural gemstones. And mud. And monsters. But no water, no wood nor signs of anything that grows. Perplexed, the expedition leader ordered the caves sealed off. The rocks could be mined later, finding water was critical for the fortress.
Another shaft was sunk in the hopes of finding another, deeper cave. The reliable miners were succesful, another cave was found. Explorers were sent out. Again, there was found mud, monsters, and no sign of water or anything that grows. This time with a deep sense of anxiety, the expedition leader ordered the caves sealed off. Were the caves even more barren than the desert up above?
Again, another shaft was sunk to go even deeper.
This time, the hard working miners were rewarded with a cave abundant with moss, edible plants, wood and great pools of water. All bound around with beautiful marble rocks. The decision was made to move the entire fortress into the depths, so that the dwarves would not be constantly exerting themselves and wasting time climbing up and down to perform the simplest of tasks.
Bedrooms, halls, workshops, wells and storage rooms were carved into the walls of the deepest cavern by the highly respectable miners. Everything was moved down. Even the animals, who now had abundant cave moss to eat. Plants were gathered, wood chopped down and made into beds and bins. Magma was found nearby, pumped using magically cold wood to the cave and used to create large volumes of steel from iron ore, marble and coal. This was used to equip a militia that became deadly to the goblins and trolls who occassionally travelled to the desert to raid the riches.
The halls were grand, the dwarves were ecstatic. Migrants flooded in.
The now richly appointed Mayor decided to build a folly. An immense tower out in the desert, made completely of gold and perfectly clear glass to shine the glory of Ottemlikot for all travellers to see. His bedroom would be on the top floor naturally.
The rocks surrounding the second cave were rich in gold. The diligent miners were told to be careful not to breach into the cavern, lest monsters intrude and disrupt the fortress. And so they were diligent. For a while. Two years into the build, pressure to achieve a high rate of gold ore collection caused the lazy miner Oltarothos to be lax in his duties, and he cracked through the walls of the cavern. He thought little of it, as he had heard of the prowess and acomplishments of the militia in the drinking hall. Surely nothing would slip by them?
The first monster to slip into the fortress was the forgotten beast Daz. Daz ran straight through the fortress and into the main workshop areas before the militia got to him, a spearsquad commanded by the militia captain Thikutlesast. They quickly stabbed Daz to death, but not before Daz had breathed his noxious frozen extract all through the busy corridors. Their elation at the death of Daz's death didn't last long.
Very soon over a third of the dwarves in the fortress were headed towards to hospital, all covered head to toe in bruises. The bruises soon became sores, which soon became infected. The smell from all these rotting wounds was intense and overpowering. Any dwarf who came anywhere near was overcome with fits of retching and vomiting. None of the affected dwarves survived, including the militia commander. Many kittens and puppies also passed away from the epidemic.
The remaining dwarves were overcome by grief. Many of them were also starting to show signs of infection, as the extract coated nearly everything in the fortress now. Any dwarf who tried to bury an infected dwarf soon got covered, and then became sick. Others sank into deep melancholy and went mad or berserk, killing the few other surviving dwarves.
Before long, no sane living dwarves were left in all of Ottemlikot. A sigh and a disgruntled "Loosing is fun" was the last sound to be heard in the corridors.
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Topic: Your Dwarf Fortress anecdote - Illustrated! (Read 104922 times)