So, I have a mature fortress called Raziden, or 'Toothpaddles' in the human tongue.
Everything is finished, great walls surround most of the overworld, with drawbridges great and small to provide access. Ramps only reachable from underground allow the marksdwarves of Toothpaddles to safely engage the enemy halted at the walls of the fort from above.
All that is left to do really is to keep food, drink and cloth industry going, and getting as much dwarves as possible to wear armour, for protection and because it's easier than clothes.
It is a Mountainhome and when the king arrived with his consort she was immediately attacked and killed for being a werebeast. Her killer then got killed by the soldiers and that was that. The king didn't really seem to mind, happy as he was with the quarters we had prepared for him, the decoration of which had used most our platinum.
He was a jolly old sort, one of the first of his kind and always prone to helping a hand. He never felt it above his station to bring someone water, cut a gem or listen to the grievances of an upset citizen.
However it was his love for gems that became his undoing. You see, our king kept asking for large gems to be produced and we did the best we could. We even went so far as to re-open the mines in search of gems, but we only need so much stone and no more ore at all really.
In the end his demands became more frequent and even though our king was the only one authorised to cut gems of any sort, the repeated failure to produce large gems frustrated him enough to convict seemngly random dwarves to up to three months in jail. The overseer had to go to great lengths to ensure no prisoners died of thirst.
Eventually a midnight meeting hatched a foul scheme, the king was lured to inspect a part of the lava shute, a bridge closed that should have remained open and another bridge that should have remained closed accidentally got opened, sending our monarch into the lava sea.
All the overseer could do was watch as he burned up, screaming: "I don't understand, what have I done, help me!"
The dwarf he had sent to prison last was still there and got released, was elected mayor.
He likes amulets and has forbidden the export of those, an edict which doesn't hurt the non-amulet producing Mountainhome of Toothpaddles.
The overseer can only hope he won't start demanding the production of masses of them.
Meanwhile I must confess that I do feel guilty, which is a bit odd seeing as the king was a square bit of pixels.
He lost his wife on arrival, didn't mind much, resqued wounded soldiers from the battlefield, created many a masterwork cut gem and I consigned him to lava for his troubles.
I've decided to put a memorial slab into every room dwarfs spend their free time in, the well, statue gardens and dining hall.
I will also make memorials out of his rooms.