Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Bodkin]

Hello, welcome to my first community fortress! This is a Masterwork fortress with lots of extra invader races added in. I'll try not to suck too badly, but if I do, what the hell. I'm here to bleed for your entertainment, after all. Editorial comments are in friendly teal to reduce your anxiety level.


These are the histories of Bellweasel, a dwarven outpost founded by Sigun Wallspiral in 200. The events that took place there are taken from the engravings of Astesh Armorfurnaced, the expedition’s mason.


1st Granite, 200

Our new home is WONDERFUL! All praise to our glorious leader Sigun for bringing us to this paradise. We have left our beloved homeland to start a new life in the horrid wilderness and that is FABULOUS!

We traveled through some pretty terrifying terrain to get here, and Sigun kept saying that as soon as he got to a more friendly terrain he would set us down to make a home for ourselves. It turns out he really meant it, because the moment we crossed into a badland that had clear skies, he said, “This is it!”

(I settled on a border between a terrifying tropical shrubland and a joyous wilds badland.)

The miner Sethal Saturninitytrumpets thinks we should have kept going, at least to where the terrifying evil creatures couldn’t see us, but Sigun ignored him. And he was right to! We don’t have room for negativity around here. Besides which, the friendly terrain has no trees, and the evil land has them. So we’ll settle down in a place that can give us wood to burn in our forges.

This is going to be AWESOME!




17th Granite

There’s something strange about this place, and I’m not just talking about the orc blood that keeps falling from the sky. Two of our livestock have gone berserk and tried to kill their fellows. I was going about my business when I saw everyone running for cover as one of our tuskoxen started trying to gore everything around it. He was quickly taken down by another tuskox. A few days later, one of our woolly mountain goats did the same. In both cases, the offending creature was killed before it could cause serious harm to anyone but itself. But this is very serious. I think there’s something in the climate here that is affecting the minds of our livestock. It is FASCINATING and I love wondering which one will try to murder us next!



Sigun ordered the remaining tuskoxen slaughtered, because if one of them goes berserk, the only thing that can stop it is another tuskox. Better to neutralize the threat. Of course, that leaves us without tuskoxen to fight against invading nasties, but this just gives us a happy opportunity to learn life lessons by bleeding! He’s so smart.

I guess I should confess why we’re here. We’re fugitives from the benevolent goodness of our beloved king. He got tired of his subjects complaining about him and his brilliant policies, so he had his sorcerer work a charm that altered our minds so that we love everything we see. Nobody complains anymore and life is fantastic!

But Sigun figured out what had been done, and even though he loves it to pieces just like the rest of us, he realized that sooner or later we would run out of food while admiring the pretty brown color that our crops would turn -- because everybody will be so preoccupied with being ecstatic and celebrating, that no work will get done.

So Sigun gathered a few friends and brought us here, and he says he’s gonna teach us how to complain again. Isn’t he the greatest? I can’t wait to hate something so I can start complaining! Maybe I'll even learn sarcasm! Maybe I'll even figure out how to engrave sentences that don't end in exclamation marks of sheer joy! I can't wait to experience some of this "misery" stuff -- It’s gonna be so much fun!

[Boltgun]

I'll watch this, good start.

[Bodkin]

24th Granite

Sigun was right, there’s no doubting it now. Just after the last tuskox was put down, one of the boozebelly goats lost its mind. I was the first to spot it. I was taking some meat to the food piles when I noticed the boozebelly stumbling and twitching. Then suddenly -- I swear this isn’t the booze talking -- it sprouted a black goatee and sprang at its mate! A terrifying sight it was, gnashing its teeth and snarling, its eyes gleaming as orc blood frothed around its mouth. I raised the alarm as it chased its intended victim.



Zaneg Fancinessbottled, our farmer -- who has just taken up a romantic attachment to Sigun -- and well done, Sigun, because she is HOT …



… sorry, where was I? Oh yes. She hastily organized a militia consisting of herself, the two miners, and me. We took off after the goat.

None of us has much fighting experience, and we all did a lot of flailing, until somehow Zaneg managed to seize and throw the evil goat by its left rear teeth! Soon we had it in a stranglehold and it passed out. We were discussing who would get credit for the kill when the largest of our shaggy badgerdogs settled the issue by bounding up and biting the possessed beast’s head off. What a marvelous shaggy badgerdog. I love him!

Sigun takes the appearance of the goatee as an omen of great evil. He has requested war training for the animals that can fight, so that they can police each other a little.


22nd Slate

All of our livestock are now dead, isn’t that super? Every last one went mad and had to be put down! Fortunately our war animals took care of it all without any need for the rest of us to interrupt our work and take joy in the slaughter.

Also, all of us now have a romantic partnership, with the exception of Sethal the miner, who now has the nickname “Seventh Wheel.” Fortunately she’s had her mind stapled like all the rest of us, so she loves it.

I’m with Mistem Greatpainted the miner, who fought beside me in the Battle of the Angry Goat. I guess the way I fractured its skull was a turn-on for her. I hope I don’t have to keep fracturing skulls to keep the relationship fresh. I’m told some girls are like that.


12th Hematite

Sigun noticed me staring in awed fascination at the lovely rivulets of orc blood sluicing down into the flortress through our main entrance. “Better do something about that,” he said. “Get your ass back to work, you grinning simpleton, and build some hatch covers and defenses. I’m tired of slipping on orc blood every time I go get a beer.”

Speaking of beer, I learned only after we left the mountainhome that nobody packed any plump helmets. No spawn, either. Can I be the only one in our entire civilization who has heard of the stuff?? All we have is shadowleaf. Sweet Armok … What the HFS are we gonna DRINK??

(Plump helmet was unavailable at embark. Also, I was too dumb to notice you can’t brew shadowleaf.)

Not that I’m complaining -- I still don’t know how. But I ran to tell Nobgost Musicfrosty, the farm worker.

“If we can’t brew anything,” I said, we might have to drink water.”
“Drink … water?” She furrowed her brow as she struggled to juxtapose the two concepts.
“Yes, water,” I repeated, capturing her eyes with a hard stare.
“Like from the toilet?” she squeaked, as horror overtook her. Then the steel of resolve settled into her jaw. “Death before sobriety,” she screamed, and she charged into the orc blood to begin gathering plants. We don’t know what she’ll find out there, but boy, do we need it badly.

(Water water water water water. It stops sounding like a word very quickly, doesn't it?)

[Kiefatar]

This... has potential.

Awesome terrifying syndrome for the area... I assume there's call to move to the joyus wilds section, if only to get out of the Orc Blood Rain?

Death before Sobriety indeed!

[Dunamisdeos]

“Death before sobriety”

sigged. Also, PTW

[Bodkin]

(Busy celebrating my 40th at the moment; will get back to the fortress soonish, and possibly with a massive hangover.)

[DreamerGhost]

So apparently you have settled next to a field dedicated to Khorne. Nothing wrong or lethal could possibly happen.

[Boltgun]

(Busy celebrating my 40th at the moment; will get back to the fortress soonish, and possibly with a massive hangover.)

Happy decade crisis day.

[Kiefatar]

Truthfully? It could make quite a few things easier.

Assuming the syndrome doesn't spread outside of the blood fields, you could still maintain animals, while any other wildlife and any mounted invaders would find themselves killing each other off. That steelclad horse starts pounding the snot out of it's rider. Having them be completely hostile to life would make hunting difficult though, and any sort of outdoor activities.

[Senshuken]

Can I get a dwarf dwarfed? This sound like an AWESOME fortress and I want to be apart of it!

Truthfully? It could make quite a few things easier.

Assuming the syndrome doesn't spread outside of the blood fields, you could still maintain animals, while any other wildlife and any mounted invaders would find themselves killing each other off. That steelclad horse starts pounding the snot out of it's rider. Having them be completely hostile to life would make hunting difficult though, and any sort of outdoor activities.

YES! Positive thinking for the win! Where others see a place only a bunch of insane fools would set up shop, we see a position in which invading enemies will have to deal with their own war animals and mounts before they can even spill a drop of dwarfen blood!

... Speaking of blood, do you think we could brew something out of the raining orc blood? I mean sure, it isn't the same as fresh squeezed orc blood from a recently butched invading orc but considering the lack of everything else to brew... its either that or Water...

[Kiefatar]

It would be awesome if there was a way to store it for use in Bloodsteel reactions.

[mate888]

PTW

[Bodkin]

All right, we're back in business, refusing to contemplate our mortality and our impending senility. Senshuken, you are dwarfified. You are a newly-arrived engraver, who has also been appointed Sheriff. There is a brewery in Masterwork that can brew blood into wine, but they don't let you harvest it from the sky. Apparently you get it from vermin, so I've got my kitchen staff busy with their ... um, vermin presses, I guess. Kiefatar, I like the way you think, and I'm plotting a Hell Pasture, far from my gate, that I will rip the lid off of in the event of a siege. But it will take some luck to get the livestock settled in. Now let's get on with it ...


28th Hematite

Praise Armok, we have migrants! That means people have been saying we made a good fortress! Although with the mind staples they’ve all been given, what else could they have said?

Sethal was practically hopping up and down with excitement, wondering if there would be any attractive, available men. She’s been all but rubbing herself against the furniture lately as she goes about her work. No luck. All the men are taken. She remains the only single dwarf in the fortress.

But what a fabulous bunch! We’ve got nine newcomers in all, two of them children. Only one is in a guild (the craft guild), and so has been made a Craftcrafter. The rest are useless prats, so that’s their profession: Prat.

We’ve now got enough dwarves to create our first standing military squad: The Works of Dourness. We’re gonna find something to be dour about if it kills us! It’s led by Zaneg, and also consists of myself and Mistem, because we’re all apprenticed in military guilds. We’ve begun training, and Prats have been chosen to fill our shoes by growing plants, digging holes, and turning rocks into differently-shaped rocks.


25th Malachite

Nobgost was out poking through the blood-drenched shrubbery for anything brewable when we heard her cry out an alarm: “A grasshopper woman! Drive it away!”

(Anybody know why the game makes a big issue of a grasshopper woman? Is it because they come in cloaked? Do they want to steal stuff? What harm can they actually do? They seem pretty useless.)

Mistem and I scratched our heads a bit, uncertain about why this deserved such an uproar. I mean, they’re gross and all, but where’s the honor in defeating vermin with a human torso? We shrugged, decided we might as well test out our military training, and the Works of Dourness rushed outside to meet the abomination in our first official combat.

The creature ran off, just as afraid of Nobgost as she was of it. We arrived outside just in time to see Nobgost collide head-on with two more grasshopper people as she fled in a panic, caroming between beasts like a dwarven pinball. It was pretty comical, really, and nothing less than she deserved for her pusillanimity. We engaged one of them as the other ran for the hills. Soon all three of us were standing around her, punching and kicking and grabbing various bits of grasshopper with sundry parts of dwarf.



Pretty soon the brook was an ichor bath and the rest of the grasshopperbeings wisely fled. For a military victory, it’s fairly pitiful. Also, I wish I wasn’t so thrilled about my lack of weapons and armor!


19th Limestone

More migrants have arrived. The only notable thing about this migrant wave was the way Sethal stood outside the entrance with her skirt hitched up, blowing kisses, holding a sign that said “Welcome Prats!” I should thank her -- I almost remember how to feel embarrassed now!

The bad news: they’re helping us reduce our booze supply much faster now, and the only thing brewing here is trouble. We have sixty firkins of alcohol standing between us and a misery worse than starvation. The plant gathering continues, slowly, but we need a trade caravan badly.


4th Sandstone

I always knew there was something strange about Sensedchasms. When a dwarf's parents forget to give her a first name, there has got to be weirdness afoot. And I was right! Today she was carrying a dead dingo through the fortress (typical of her) when she got a mysterious glint in her eye, and quicker than you can say “psychopath,” she dropped the dingo right in the center of the hallway and raced down to the crafts shop. Our leader was in there crafting some silly trifle, but that didn’t stop her. She just grabbed him by the collar and tossed him out the door!

By now a small crowd was watching, mouths agape. She didn’t even notice us. She ran up to the butcher and grabbed a bunch of bones from the boozebelly goat that we killed this spring. Now she’s in there screaming “I must have metal bars!” and “I must have bones!”



There are no metal bars in the fortress. We haven’t located any ore yet, but nobody is volunteering to tell her that. We don't know what to do. We hope some traders will bring us metal before she decides to take bones from the nearest living dwarf.

[AustralianWinter]

I'd like a dwarf!

[mate888]

I'd like to be a dwarf. A specially useless one if you can