The dorflist, for posterity. Updated with moodlet of As the Mad One.
Here's the report for year 263; I actually had a lot of fun with this one, despite a lack of manpower and a rather uneventful year. Some screenshots missing, because I'll need to load a back-up for those ones.
Journal of Spish "Icybrass" Ushil, Exaltationhexxed Overseer 263:The Master spoke of a land bless-ed by the dearest god of death, rebirth, and love, Alis (Ay-liss I say) the Lacy Charm. And so, with the help of CogDis, we had arranged for an expedition to this place, where death itself has little meaning, and those that die are merely reborn as unliving servants for the God of Death.
It is here in the hills bordering the tundra that we have established our foothold in the holy land. CogDis spoke of a lucky few that were even blessed (well, not in his own words) with a higher state of undeath, one that liberated them of all the needs and weaknesses of the flesh, to become unstoppable crusaders of the Lacy Charm. So when the opportunity presented itself to oversee the events of the fortress for myself, it's only natural I jumped at it. I am Spish Ushil, exalted spearfisher of The Portals of Society, beardless acolyte of death, and thus begins the year of my reign over Exaltationhexxed.
A strange phenomenon. The upper part of the river seems to have completely dried up, while simultaneously flooding everything below it.
It appears to be flowing... backwards!? This makes no logical sense. I'll have to pen a letter to The Academy of Dwarven Sciences about this...
The Master believes we can control those who have been cursed by the vile mist, and utilize their bodies for the greater good... even going so far as to refer the subjects in question as "Thralls of the Master." As such, I have constructed a small shrine where chained victims are to be converted to Thralls. For now, we will use animal test subjects until we can better understand the effects of the vile mist.
It is the middle of spring, and the elves have arrived bearing goods for trade. Unfortunately for them, we have very little to offer in return, and I foresee that they'll be of much more use to us dead than alive.
Predictably they put up very little resistance. Despite two of them apparently being talented blade-dancers. The Master claims to have "sitestepped" and
knifed a person in half. Come now, I doubt that's even physically possible. Whatever the case, Alis will be most pleased with these new sacrifices.
As Ungodlyminds, The Mad One, immediately hauls off one of the elves and makes elf burritos out of his corpse. I forbid her from butchering the rest, for they exist to serve a higher purpose.
It was around this point that I discovered that As was a skilled butcher/cook. Incidentally, it seems Masterwork dwarves can butcher anyone and anything. How convenient, eh?
The Master, now The Drunken Master. Gosh he's so full of himself.
Not surprisingly, our current policy of violence towards outsiders does little to attract others to our cause. So it seems we'll have to improvise...
This be the Altar of Alis, where slain enemies are to be placed and converted to zombies for our cause. It's nothing particularly grandiose, but we have little to work with at the moment. Life is, in a word, death.
And death is, in a word, rebirth.
I have the miners begin work on a mining expedition in a small pit outside the fortress. Eighteen stories down, the stone ramp opens out to an unusual world beneath the earth, green as the grassy fields above.
Bizarre creatures roam the green meadows of the subterranean deeps.
For now, there is no path in or out of the caverns. Perhaps later, when we are more prepared to deal with the beasts down below.
Our animals are set upon by a swarm of brook trolls from upriver. Akrul Slingletter, The Master's cat, was almost killed in the scuffle, but I arrived just in time to save him, assisted by boltfire from The Master himself. More servants for the glory of Alis!
Brook trolls, eh? The river is my domain. Though I shudder to think what The Master would've done if his cat had been killed.
One nearly managed to escape, but was thwarted by the impeccable aim of The Master. History will remember this great battle as "Buttockshoots."
Once again, for reasons unknown, the dwarves of The Gleeful Arches find themselves discouraged from migrating to our glorious bastion. Prudence would demand that they experience death.
While out for a morning stroll, I happened upon a most disturbing creature... it is Goblin Man!
Vile. I would've happily slew him, had I not been unarmed at the time.
ORCS! They tried to sneak inside and kidnap Pan, our resident youth! It was, however, apprehended by the watchful eye of a trained hawk, who distracted it until The Master arrived to plant several bolts into the orc's nether regions.
I swear, I'm starting to think he's aiming there on purpose. With their last breath, and a falsetto voice, they swear that we will soon feel the wrath of Clanlord Cheesemaker Ago Azstrogzukax Onsmostado Oslox! Yeah whatever.
MORE ORCS! They appear to be obsessed with our dear friend Pan. Of what significance she is to the orcs, I quite frankly have no idea.
I catch a kobold trying to steal from our depot. I attempt to apprehend it, though I am quite a bit too slow to catch up. Then out of nowhere, The Master pushes me out of the way and gives chase, running at a speed far greater than any normal dwarf I'd seen. He easily catches up, and bludgeons the kobold with his crossbow, causing it to suddenly *poof* into a bag of gold coins.
That is rather... odd.
Once again our helpless animals are set upon by beasts of the wild, this time, by ferocious beasts of stone.
I was pinned down and nearly torn to pieces by one of them, but fortunately Urdim was not far behind. These injuries would put me out of commission for most of the rest of the year. The rest of the gargoyles, critically wounded by The Master, scattered into the air, only to return later and suffer a similar fate. I was most displeased to hear that their bodies could not be resurrected on the Altar of Alis. Useless.
I would later discover that the gargoyles had also killed the moleweasel test subject I had chained up at The Master's shrine. How annoying; knowing my luck, the mist will probably come before we have the chance to prepare a new thrall...
Yup.
A letter returned from the Academy of Dwarven Sciences, from an enigmatic fellow who refers to himself by the initials "GC." It offers insight into the strange river phenomenon we have encountered. There was an incantation enclosed that he claimed would fix the problem; so I spoke the words, and sure enough, the river began to flow normally again! Sorcery? Or real dwarven SCIENCE?
The caravan from the mountainhome arrives. They bring many fine goods for trade, but my eye is drawn to one item in particular: an extremely expensive brass prototype swordgolem, that would cost us literally everything we own to purchase.
But lo, As the Mad One had specially prepared a sublime feast of elf meat curry for just such an occasion, laced with the finest mind-altering drugs! At least, that's the only explanation I can think of for the merchants' sudden lapse in judgement. The Master is going to love his new bodyguard...
With that out of the way, we are able to buy everything else we need from the caravan using the expensive mithril wares we pilfered from the elves. I knew killing them was the right thing to do!
A goblin thief jumped Pan outside, pushing her over and stuffing her into a bag. Before he can escape, he is tackled by a local giant tick, and pinned down while we take back what is rightfully ours.
Goblin skipping stones aside, I'm really starting to dig this bug. But it is nonetheless an unnerving situation, this marks no less than the fourth attempted kidnapping of Pan, and the closest they've ever come to succeeding. In order to be free from the dangers of the outside world, Pan agrees to live in isolation in a pit beneath the new well.
She is given a stockpile of meat, enough to last her at least 5 years, and a giant hamster guardian.
Another orc, this time the stupid bugger wandered into one of my randomly placed outdoor traps. This marks the fifth attempt on Pans life; I'm not sure why the sacred child is so important to the orcs and goblins, but at the very least she is safe from them now.
(there would later be a SIXTH attempt)
Moldath adopts a landmine as a pet, even going so far as to name it Kor "Liedtalking" Osmasos. Methinks they might not all be right in the head. It's just as well; some would say we're
all mad here.
No migrants. But yea, a new life has entered the world: Becor Plaguedbridge!
The Master's daughter is born, and that shall suffice for now.
The entire fortress is awakened by the sound of a great explosion.
Dear sweet Kor Osmasos had been detonated by the nymphs in a fatal display of tomfoolery... truly a tragic... *snicker* loss.
BUT NOW EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE! THE BRIDGE! THE DEPOT! All the expensive stuff we just bought!
I had a feeling the year would not end without something going horribly wrong. Ah, but all ends well. For the rain is our savior.
And with the coming of Spring, it is time to pass on the right of rule to my successor. Peace out, and praise death!
I forgot to mention the numerous lever-operated bridges, the cliff tunnel, the danger room, the dam, repurposing the "burial grounds" as a farm, the zombie army, and the well-reservoir that is filled by fountain directly via the waterfall.
<editing fortresspics and dorfs in this spot>
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Topic: ☼Masterwork Succession Fortress: Exultationhexxed - Who needs migrants!☼ (Read 66117 times)