I pulled back in my chair, staring at the screen disbelievingly. That's a fine 9$ word, isn't it? But there it was: I didn't believe it had actually happened. It was too specific, too precise- like someone had architecturally designed the thing with an exactness you only found in these block-mining/building games. One thing was for certain: *I* didn't do it, nor did I order it. So who did?
"What the fuck?"
--- Watchword Chapter One: Deuteranopia
Hopefully that got your attention. Let's get one thing straight, right here and now. I don't mod Dwarf Fortress. I've never touched a single raw or downloaded a mod for it- nor do I have any wish to, at the time being. There's simply so much content to it that I still have yet to experience all that the original game has. For crying out loud, I only now started using screw pumps for any purpose other than stirring water to keep it from going stagnant (not even sure if its necessary, to be honest, but better safe than sorry). I'm also an impatient and meticulous soul, using PerfectWorld, Overseer and DFHack's Fastdwarf (though I turn it off during Times of Darkness), Tubefill (only just after Embark) and Reveal with absolute abandon so that I can build the fortress the way I *want* it. To date, I still have yet to destroy the Clown Car- or even make a half-decent dent in it, for upwards of forty attempts. I'm rather proud of my computer's specs- able to keep upwards of 300 dwarves on a standard embark, with minimal FPS drop (but I usually have Fastdwarf off for good by that point)- but those are the only changes I have ever made to my download.
What I'm about to tell you may or may not be true. You don't know me- I can't try to convince you of anything. Those of us who dwell on the internet tend to be jaded, humor-seeking and cynical souls that take everything with a pinch of salt and a hint of pepper. But I have to tell the story, if only for a promise I made.
Some promises you can't break.
---
April 2, about 5 PM. Music was playing- Powerman 5000's 'Worlds Collide' or whatever the song was called. You know the thing- played on the radio forever ago. Yes, I know the song is kinda pop-y and not suitable for Dwarf Fortress- but I can't think of a better one when I'm constructing a world. Yes, constructing- PerfectWorld is my friend. 50000 embark points (don't laugh, I'm a newb), a round 50 kinds of each evil world-slaughtering or bloodsucking bastard, all legends hidden, a good 15 layers between each cavern, double the size of each good/evil biome, don't cull the unimportants... You get the idea. Its my favorite setup- I've yet to gen a world like this that was boring. Set it up, exported it, and loaded DF for a good night of construction and excavation. I don't normally mess with the seeds all that much.
Embarking... Embarking was surprisingly tough, this time around. I try and stay away from aquifers, but the entire map was plagued with them. I was contemplating genning a new world, and finally decided to say 'screw it'- picking a spot that had everything else I needed, and rested atop a few different 'serene' biomes- all of which had a bunch of trees. Pissing off the elves was always an added plus. There was even a river. Checking my civs list, seemed I was close-by pretty much everyone- including humans, which usually eluded me. Trading would be good, as well as goblinite. To be fair, though, I usually placed any edged goblinite in weapon traps for the sheer irony of it. Knowing that I wouldn't be able to escape the aquifers this time around, I thought ahead and brought enough parts for a few screw pumps- I liked to have the main bulk of my fortress *way* underground, you see. Past the third cavern layer, usually with a 100-or-more Z-level staircase leading towards the surface. With easier access to the lifeblood of the earth, I would not soon be forced to go anywhere near the surface- once I had enough beds, anyway. With most of my points squirreled away in food, seeds, digging implements, a couple anvils and a motherload of sand (as well as 50 each of each little random thing to save any dwarf that early on hits a mood), I was ready to assign skills.
Not that I didn't have fun with it- I considered it a personal goal of mine to always have each of the original 7 survive into old age, naming them something easily recognizable. This had yet to happen- there was always an accident, either with a misplaced keystroke causing a collapse or an army that somehow breached my defenses. When it comes to combat and channelling (and even building or digging stairs), I can be surprisingly inept- something I compensate for with the added embark points. Several times, I'd built an entire staircase of down stairs, causing my miners to starve to death at the bottom- causing me to rage-abandon and begin again. These seven wouldn't be so unlucky, I swore. A Miner/Mason, a Miner/Farmer, a Mechanic/Wood Cutter, an Architect/Brewer (the combo amuses me), and two Carpenters/Engravers. That left the seventh of the group- a dwarven man with a full head of black, braided hair and a long, braided beard. It listed him as given over to kindness, liking fluffy wamblers and generally a low-key good-guy sort that liked to mingle and cooperate with people. Not me in the slightest- I knew and know myself to be a petty, pessimistic individual that was often irritated. Still, he was excellent 'Overseer' material. His last name was 'Forgeworks' for fuck's sake- how could anyone compete with that? I tossed him some cursory points in appraisal and intent-judging, as well as a few conversational skills. He would serve as my broker, expedition leader, bookkeeper and manager- and later on, my mayor as well. I doubted any mandates he made were something I couldn't handle, as he liked green glass. I nicknamed him 'Azri', after my preferred screenname. He'd be the MVD of the fortress 'Watchword' and effectively my avatar.
There's a reason I spoke specifically of my 'Overseer', and the others' names haven't been mentioned. They aren't as important.
I didn't think anything of it at the time.
---
Work was underway. Three full wagons of supplies had arrived at the peaceful place that seemed as if it had never been touched by erosion- at one end of the map, more than twenty levels of a mountain soared off into the sky and the river cut right through it on this pretty little 2x8 embark. Odd size choice, I know, but when I'm waiting for stuff to finish I like to tastefully refine my entrance- sometimes my 'gates' can get quite massive indeed with each new addition. It was a simple matter, placing a long exploratory stairway cutting right into the magma sea from one corner of the map- making certain that I 'discovered' all three cavern layers and magma before revealing it all. With fastdwarf, it was all done in seconds- and my handy miner/mason went and capped it off with a diorite floor. With that finished, I typed in 'reveal' to start planning the first great chapter in this world 'The Planes of Churning'.
I'd gotten to the 'living quarters' Z-level when I noticed that 'reveal' hadn't shown a portion of the lowest cavern's area. Where there should have been the usual water sitting at the bottom, instead there was only a mud-strewn lacework of tunnel floors- around a big black unrevealed portion. I knew what the unrevealed portion was, of course. Candy. Reveal didn't show you candy, otherwise you would get clowns by default- dragging your FPS through the dirt. It didn't bother me- I wouldn't be using Tubefill this time around, as I was trying to wean myself off the cheats slowly. If anything, the (massive) tube of candy would take the edge off once I was in a position to start mining the good stuff- up until the Clown Car hit.
---
Two migrants had arrived, but that was hardly important. Know what was important?
Stockpiles. Stockpiles, stockpiles, stockpiles. I'd dedicated almost an entire level to them, all separated and organized to perfection. The workshops would be just beneath, one level above magma layer- making for quick and easy access to any item imaginable at any time. As I always did, I built at least 20 more spaces for workshops than I actually needed. I'd find something to do with them, even if it meant just hollowing out the separations and putting in a sculpture garden. My chopper was hard at work turning the trees into toothpicks for beds, 'Azri' had seemingly already claimed the 7x7 room I'd dug out solely for him despite there being no furniture in it yet, and everyone else was busy schlepping the contents of the wagons inside. A seperate set of stairs led up to the first few levels, just above the aquifer (which thankfully was circumnavigable) to serve as indoor farming, a well and sand-gathering area- and the food stockpile. All this would be reachable from the inside, and impenetrable unless invaders managed to breach the 1-block wide trap-strewn entrance, flanked by a 20-level drop on both sides and fortified murderholes for marksdwarves. The marksdwarves, spikes and spears at the bottom would have to come later, but for now the mining portion was planned out and dug. There would even be room, later, for nobles and such- though I've yet to have a fortress progress to the point where I get even low-ranking nobility. I think it had something to do with my habit of deconstructing Depots at well-planned times. This time, though, would be different- I could feel it. It was time to start learning how to Trade.
And not a moment too soon- a caravan from the Mountainhomes was already at the edge of the map, and I immediately told my mason to stop manufacturing furniture and get his hairy arse above-ground where he could make the only depot I'd ever need- an obsidian masterpiece that I, later, could flank with statues just to show my greatness. It didn't take long, even counting for time he spent grabbing a quick bite to eat. One thing I was particularly looking forward to was buying up their spare weaponry- I needed to fill those traps with something, after all, and I didn't have a glassmaker that could pump out some decent green glass discs. As if on cue, Azri had begun hanging about the Depot- I'd long since deconstructed the wagons, just so my dwarves wouldn't pussyfoot around it. I told him that the 'Broker' aspect of his job was required, so he took up position as the merchants started unloading. A quick conversation with the associate told him that I wanted any metal weapon he could bring- especially steel. In return? He wanted stone instruments and clothes. Too bad there isn't an option to insult the emissary for such an elvish request- but he buggered off quickly enough. That left only the traders themselves, and I'd hastily told one of my Engravers (thank you, Dwarf Therapist) to go and cut a few gems to trade with. Fastdwarf was a good ally here, and after a good ten had been cut I told him to get back to work on the beds. Now to open trade negotiations...
A good hour later, experimenting, I'd found an optimal trade- I'd only be losing a few dwarfbux on the tradeoff, and there was no way the trader wouldn't be able to haul off the measly handful of gems. Having a look around the screen, I knew there was a way to determine just what likelihood a trader had of accepting a deal- that was what Judge of Intent was for, right? And I'd set good ol' Azri up as a novice so I'd have some sort of idea-
'Seems unnerved'. It didn't say by what, and I wasn't sure how to find out. Regardless, he took the trade- and I had a few shiny swords and axes to start 'decorating' my killzone with. Azri's work was done- I told everyone to pack up the swords from the depot, and relieved my broker from duty to go back to his books. Hey, his dining room/bedroom/office was ready, too! And it'd be a damn sight better than 'meager' when everything was engraved. It'd be a while before the traders left- it was hard to not highlight my little obsidian welcome mat and hit 'x'. They'd had a few bits of armor that looked quite tasty.
---
I'd just finished telling my mechanic to make a few traction benches and a bunch of mechanisms when the message popped that the traders were finally packing up to leave. It had taken longer than expected. No matter, it just meant that I could move the Depot over to a more suitable location now, right? As it was, putting it right outside the entrance wasn't ideal to me. Not without some renovation. I'd F1'd up to the surface and already moused over to deconstruct once they'd left when the game informed me in shiny red text that all six horses the traders had brought had simultaneously gone berserk.
Yes, all six- at once. And there wasn't even cause for it. The most threatening thing on the map at the time was a bunch of unicorns off in the NW corner playing hide-and-seek with a badger. At least half the map lay between them and the horses, who proceeded to kick the poor traders in their collective faces and trample over what was left in a mad attempt to get away from... something. Weird, right? It might have been the fact they were passing by my capped-over exploratory shaft, but there wasn't a beast down there that could path to them. There wasn't a thief or childnapper, because they'd have been revealed. The poor dwarves didn't have a chance- one managed to crawl a blood-stained trail seventeen squares before getting kicked into the river and subsequently drowning as the horses ran like bats out of hell for the map edge.
Oh well- more stuff for me, right? Glitches happen. I told my dwarves to go and yank all the stuff (just in case any of it was forbidden) before saving the game and nodding off to sleep for the night.
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Topic: Watchword [Spoilers] [Horror] [Creepypasta] (Read 5241 times)