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[Fien]

So there's Drunk Fortress, sure, but those people knew what they were doing....in theory. Now we can't have that, can we? So welcome one and all to Alesorrow, the fortress built on, for, and likely partially of, booze. I'm going to get as tanked as possible and try and make a fortress centered completely around the making and drinking of alcohol. Everything else is secondary, if not thirdary.

Did I mention I haven't played dorfort since the 40d version and thus still don't quite know how farming, military, and the medical systems work? Did I mention I'm all of about 5' 8" and 130 pounds with the tolerance of a small dog? Let's try and have some "fun", shall we?



Any suggestions, dares, what-have-yous, feel free. Besides making a large stockpile of booze, what else can I do with this holy nectar? Hell, should I even bother?

Oh, and one pint of Milwaukee's Worst down.

[Lielac]

Suggestion: Don't poison yourself too badly.

Dare: Build a giant 3D barrel, which contains all and only the stills, plant and booze stockpiles, and farms necessary to sustain your booze production.

[CriticallyAshamed]

Make sure you weaponize the alcohol barrels.

Also; as someone who has perhaps come close to it, don't poison yourself too bad.

[Kofthefens]

Make a minecart gun that shoots booze barrels.

[Fien]

1st of Felsite, 71st Year of the Holy Wine. Diary of Fien Bromrekokol, Expedition Leader and Overseer.

Our Mountain home grew too much, and too deep, and too greedily, and awoke the greatest of beasts.....soil depletion. With my crops to grow, no holy booze could be distilled. In desperation some resorted to the unthinkable act of drinking from nearby rivers, there were no survivors.

So Our small band of 7 were send with seeds and some of the last stock of alcohol to start anew elsewhere, to grow crops and brew more of the life sustaining liquid. We traveled north to the sea and dug down next to a mighty river. a Simple dormitory, stockpiles, and workshops are being dug out and set up. I pray to the God Everclear that we shall find this scorched earth more habitual than it seems. I've taken the tough and strenous duty of keeping records of our dwindling supplies, my sacrifice noted and respected by the other memebrs of my noble band as I chisle away at these slabs day in and out, stopping only to take my allotted ration of rum so that my mind may not go blank from deprivation. Gods help us, not a one of us even knows how to set a farm up....

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

(one z level under the surface, the start of my main base.)

4th of Hematite, 71st Year of the Holy Wine, Diary of Fien Bromrekokol, Expedition Leader and Overseer.

ELATION! After much trail, error, and about 4 collective barrels of rum, we have managed to unravel the most difficult of mysteries; planting seeds. As it turn out, one must simply bury them in soil and they shall grow! Such magics are beyond me but thankfully two farmers were send with out party to assure our success. A small plot of year-round Plump Helmets has been set up to provide the most basic of subsistence. It is meager, insulting even, but all we have at the moment. The second they have taken to the soil we shall begin in earnest to diversify our crops so that we may not perish from pitiful choice and limitation. May the Almighty of Whiskey guide us through this hell.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

(three pints down, the room is beginning to spin a bit. I only have 3 more so don't worry, I wont' do anyhting stupid....outside of this thread that is...)

[Button]

PTW

[Fien]

11th of Malachite, 71st year of the Holy Wine,  Diary of Fien Bromrekokol, Expedition Leader and Overseer

Our mason has claimed to be "on break" for the last month.....I have put him on this list to suffer an "unfortunate accident" and looked froma knife. Sadly we have found no metal to craft into weapons to stab insolents with and thus must deal with their treasonous bullshit for some time longer.  I've ordered a wooden wall to be build around the entrance to our city as a basic form of defense but as it has been progressing understandably slow as a result of SOME dorfs not doing their share. Our farms are also undermanned and without enough seeds to fully plant. Woe be upon our sorry souls, for truly this is the end of times.

A wave of refugees from the mountainhome also arrived, mostly woodcutters and out of work planters whom we did our best to accommodate. Still, we find little solace in this burnt landscape of dryness and a supreme lack of stone. This is human land and it sickens me to even live beneath it, but what can I do? I drink to my misfortunes and drink further to the hope that our outpost may find its place and create the great farms that our former homes need. Without the all-previous spirits of the plant we shall all surely fade away to nothing, gods help us and our thirst that cannot be quenched by a thousand seas of gin.

(four pints down. And if only I had some Button)

[pisskop]

heh

[Fien]

I can't stop hiccuping it's like a cartoon.

[pisskop]

If you can type without errors you may not be intoxicatwd yet . . .

[blue emu]

I trust that you intend to diversify into above-ground farms as well... so that you can brew every possible kind of booze: Sewer Brew, Sunshine, Prickleberry Wine, Strawberry Wine, River Spirits...

[Fien]

21st of Gelana, Year of FUCKING LAZY MINERS

We have four different projects going and guess how many rely on the miner and masons doing their god damn jobs.

ALL OF THEM

We've barely a farm, there's an aquifer not 20 feet below us that all these pansies refuse to dig in because "it's wet" and " We'll surely drown". I will see then all encased in MAGMA!

(five pints down, My typing is perfect, shut up. You're drink!)

[Fien]

2nd of Sandstone, Year 71st of the Calender of teh God of Gin. From the diray of Fien Bromrekokol, Overseer and last sane mind of these god damn fools.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

We've tried to  dig deper but the damn water that these  fools are so scared of vexes us at every turn. Our miners refuse to dig in neck deep water like the goat-licking bastards they are, I'd take a pickm to the walls myself but I'm far too busy figuring the exactg number of strawberry seeds we we have. Without such recods our outpost would surely devolve into madness and horror. May the Gods and their holy Liquid guide us for we are lost and drunken beyond compare. Otherwise we are doomed to the Thirst of Hate.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Barely two-thrids of the wall is completed, we are doomed.....

(last of the 6 is down, may make one more post while I'm still tanked  but don't count on it. This is what my typing looks like whne I'm too drunk to look over it properly. Next time I hope to have brandy or 4lokos. either way it shall get silly)

[Igotaname]

I trust that you intend to diversify into above-ground farms as well... so that you can brew every possible kind of booze: Sewer Brew, Sunshine, Prickleberry Wine, Strawberry Wine, River Spirits...

Variety is the fruit of getting shitfaced.
I entrust you to do this OP, every dwarf has a preference. And they must all be drunk off their ass before the day is done.

[Fien]

The something of Something

Damn traitors, stealin mah boose.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I gotta kill them all. Dear Diary. Tell no on of this.