So, I come home, my face still full of Döner, and reread this thread. Excuse my hideous English, schnaps and no breakfeast is one hell of a drug.
Here is the first babby formed in the fortress:
*schniff* he is growing up so
fast!
I continue to play. And whenever I look away there is a crisis. Turns out, not wearing a shirt and shoes can and will kill a dwaf's spirits:
Shortly thereafter he starved himself to death. Half the Fortress was crying, destroying farm plots and punching each others ears in, but they calmed down as the booze began to flow again.
It
was a close call.
The graveyardstuffer got his resting place:
I kinda like the nekropolis' location: near the workshops and ressources, as if the deceased were but a tool used and stored away for another day, or a piece of rough material to be taken to the forge and refined when its time has come. Yeah.
I ordered fat, softened Tekkud to work out on the pumps and it... worked out:
Fit as a funeral suit.
While I installed a nice little system allowing me to keep an eye on my dwarves state of clothedness, I accidentally forbid a stockpile and overproduced a century worth of shirts:
There are no invaders or migrants to fear, but a couple strange moods demanding rough gems may fell this fortress.
I mean, look at that:
Simply ridiculous!
Well, I doubled the mushroom stockpile's size to 200 tiles so I can afford to only farm during summer... it feels like terrible waste to let 75% of the stacks rot, and I don't know if rotten plants are terminated from memory or continue sucking FPS.
Everything is crawling with rats or, as I call them, meatballs.
The second kill:
Mambas are the only dangerous wildlife here except for Rhinoceroi. The only stuff they can kill are my pets(three left!) or the diplomats. Those in turn do not thirst nor go crazy, but...
Do this sometimes, independly from when they arrived and if they were accosted by something.
Now the plump helmet spam has died down, I noticed that I was regularely informed about the nothing-to-catchiness of the local
swamp. As it turns out, this guy here:
is honestly trying to angle in the well. I decided to leave him be, at least he is not doing drugs or listening to rap music.
Absolutely everything in this fort is crazy: My farmers are legendary, my pump operators are legendary, my weavers and clothiers are legendary and the dudes doing random stuff are legendary, at least when it comes to talking... these are the guys that can do things supernaturally fast at 100 FPS and here I am, at roughly 3000... they do not teleport, they phase in and out of reality, manifest in multiple places at once and influence matter with their
minds.
Or that is what it looks like.
I think as soon as the kids grow up I will start a wrestling/boxing club. Good ol' Tekkud will be the commander, I mean, chairman.
LAST EDIT BEFORE I LEAVE THE BUILDING NOT UNLIKE ELVIS: A peasant diplomat just dodged an attacking elephant. Twice.