Today, ladies and gentlemen, I did something insane.
I played a game of Dwarf Fortress again. And my oh my was it worth it.
It has been 10 years since my last fort, and so much has changed that I can't even believe it. I loved this game to piece for years, so I decided that now was the time (I needed some distraction, as there was a death in the family) to boot op df.exe again.
First thing I do is gen a world. Large amounts of magic, MASSIVE godly presence and 15 random civs. I look through the myths and I find out that there are some magic artifacts scattered around that massively boosts the physical ability of those around it, one of which is named the "Spear of Armok" and another "The Torch of Boatmurdered." I find this acceptable. So, I then truly begin by making a fortress. A military base to hold off eastern Grenyer (random civ, massive barbarian creatures that live in tribes and use black magic. They have a thing for necromancy) tribes, as they are beginning to march into the heartland of the Imperial Dyes, the premiere dwarven empire. They have colonies in several planes, and are beginning to expand out of the region more. Anyway, this base is set up in a mountain pass, near the ruins of another base where I will eventually set up some defenses. There were some drifting Berro (another civ, nomadic and highly religious but frail) that had set up camp there, but I thought I would get to them later.
So, I start with a single battalion and 15 highly talented craftsdwarves. I start out by moving half the battalion outside the map, setting up defensive positions. The rest begin immediate construction of my little fortress, carving quickly into the sides of the pass. I begin planning for my next move. The startup screen told me that the king wanted me to defend against the enemy, not attack them. I was unsure, though. I liked this little dwarven civ, as it had quite an interesting history (multiple civil wars, holy benediction yada yada yada) and the Grenyer were a threat. I began plans for a mobile fortress, capable of moving into enemy territory with massive amounts of troops within and destroying any enemy and a League of Assassins with the name "The Killy Killers of Killers" and massive knives. So, a couple years pass, and things are about silent. The occasional patrol get's ambushed, but casualties are low and I didn't want to make an arena of death just yet.
And then I get an announcement; A courier has arrived.
I watch as he walks into the fortress, clearly running. He stops just short of the General, and starts speaking. I don't have the conversation log handy, so I can't quite him, but I certainly remember the gist. He said that demons were marching upon the capital, killing everything in their path, showing no mercy.
Now, in this world of constant devine intervention, this isn't all that uncommon. Gods show up in taverns, demons pillage and murder and life goes on. Except that this horde was massive. 120,000 demons, led by a mysterious cloaked being (which, by the way, is awesome. Procedural generation KNOWS) going by the name "LanceSpeared". Everything had fallen, be it PailStabbed or BloodGarbage the Hold of the North to his onslought. The mountain-home was next. We were the only one to not experience their wrath.
My reaction was, of course, to finish the big ass moving fortress.
(To be continued?
)
.....you know, if you like.
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Topic: Playerlogs from 2050 (Read 115390 times)