Late summer:
Well, the werebeast was part of the human traders convoy. It attacked them, got injured, fled, and turned back into a human. I ordered the kinetic swans to catch up with it and kill the asshole, but even as a non-antelope, the culprit fled swiftly. Important note for the future: do NOT let the human merchants in again. They are most likely infected. humans were the one to bring about *this* curse here in the first place. I think we should seal the depot access, wait for a full moon, and then open the walls to conduct business with them. I think sealing off migrants in an antichamber with food and beds until the full moon would also be a smart choice, to make sure we don't ever welcome one of those wereantelopes inside our walls.
If we do locate one of those creatures, I have... plans... for them.
Meanwhile, it seems that right under the first layer of dirt is raw basalt, unfit for tree production, sporific or otherwise. Will need alternate source of logs. could not conduct business with the human traders because one of them turned into a monster.
To get logs for at least a few beds, I order my lackeys to dig toward astville using a new shaft. there shall be two corridors filled with doors. Should we ever need to isolate either part of the fort, or face a threat, we can lock the doors to hold invaders while we seal off the corridor.
While digging, our miners locate a cluster of both green zircon and amethysts. There's also marble, a flux stone, should we ever become industrious enough to forge some fucking steel.
Annnnnd, welcome to Astville, where we are met with a wonderfully crafted well and the rotting and headless body of our mayor. Hi, Drazoth!
Yeah, better seal off the place asap. there are logs nearby, but I prefer to use the few boulders we created while excavating down. Stone beds aren't the most awesome thing to sleep on, let's be honest.
Before I can do much of anything with this new area we've gained access to, I'm called back upstairs. a vile force of darkness has arrived. Goblins. And trolls. they can't reach us, thank Armok and my cleverness for that, but they represent a clear and present danger to any would be trader, or migrant. Thankfully, I have just the thing for them.
Unless they can path inside the fortress, the goblins and trolls will remain outside and roam the countryside, killing any would-be migrants for this season, and probably the next two or so. thankfully, i see no harm in welcoming them. they are, after all, the relatives of my good Minister of Agriculture, mister Smunstu. Any friend of my friend is welcome to doomforests.
I activate the southern bridge, opening up the fortress to any would be invader.
* * *
Early autumn:
I wasn't able to wire all I wanted, but this will have to do. I order the eastern wall torn apart to connect the upper section of the staircase to connect with the old fortress, and command Drokles' masons to seal off the entrance to my lair. I'm sorry, remaining troglodytes, you don't get to be part of my awesome experiment. Maybe next time?
The goblins wait for the river to freeze, and then cross the brook to enter via the bridge. They charge in, hoping to discover riches and loot. What they mostly discover, instead, is my good ol' pal Supergoat.
The trolls are too dumb to help, and stay behind, trashing Drazoth's tomb. for a noble, every aspect of his death sure lacked respect or classiness. Supergoat makes short work of the goblins, but the little assholes took hold of weapons and armors lying around, and were able to inflict some severe damage on Doomforests' famous foe. It is now bleeding heavily. Sob.
needless to say, most of the goblins are dead. those who survive mostly spend the next week or so runnign around while rotting alive, filling the fort with a miasmic cloud it is all too well aquainted with.
The trolls are done trashing Drazoth's tomb, and move on to destroy statues of the first Salmeuk.
a lone goblin finds Supergoat crying in a corner, bleeding out. The goblin gets shot by the extract, and dies in due time, but inflicts a fatal wound to the Forgotten Beast.
While this is going on, the remaining goblins decide to sleep among the masma and the ice breath instead of helping. Teamwork.
It matters not. After three seasons of haunting Doomforests, Supergoat is no more.
* * *
Mid autumn:
Well, time to have fun. The goblins want to leave, but they are obviously not aquainted with the customs of this fort. nobody leaves Doomforests alive, you see. That's what I learned over the painful, bloodsoaked years. Oups, there goes the bridge.
First, let's begin with some crundles. The little buggers aren't tough on their own, but together they...
Umpgh, ok, so they all died too easily. Thankfully I have more than one trick up my sleeve.
''fly, my pretty!'' I scream while unleashing the giant olm.
...Fuck.
It's not over, tho, I still have more creatures to dispose of! Time to get serious!
The goblins don't feel so brave when they encounter my pet Minotaur. He quickly disposes of one goblin.
...and proceed to exterminate a few more, before getting his skull fractured. Uggh, useless megabeasts, why can't you be badass once you join
my team?
my pet troglodytes fare badly as well, unsurprisingly. My megabattle project was designed to get rid of Supergoat alone, not of 100 invaders. While the goblins have been pretty much destroyed, leaving only two on the surface that I'm aware off, the trolls not outnumber the dwarves inside the fort. thankfully, we don't share the same half of the fortress, because that would be unpleasant. The beasts start wandering the fortress and destroying pretty much everything they see. At least they can't escape the fortress. I have no time to deal with them, however, and no desire or means to do so either. From now on, until someone comes up with a clever and miraculous plan, they can have their half of the place.
My minion suggest weaponizing werebeasts. that will have to wait until the next season, or the return of the humans, I'm afraid.
In the meantime, I focus on making Astville a tolerable place. How those refugees managed to call this hellhole their home without cringing is beyond me, and I've lived for three months among a pile of rotting dead friends. I order the bedchambers to be dug out. With two layers of the thing, assuming everyone is living with their spouse or parents, we should be able to house 40 dwarves, plus those in the offices upstairs We have such a low population no matter what, that it seems logical that everyone should be able to get his own fancy quarters.
One of the cats seem to be emanating miasma, tho, so I order it pastured near the magma pit, and then sealed off. I have no desire to let such a stupid beast poison my fancy new habitation project.
One of the masons managed so seal himself outside Astville. This costs us a week of building and deconstructing which could be used to create more coffins and slabs. Drokles, your employees are slacking off!
At least the miners are doing their job (as soon as i remember to include what they dig as part of the burrow, that is). Now we have plenty of gems. I order everything but the amethysts cut into finer items, so that we have both raw and cut gems should anyone be taken by a mood.
Speaking of which... my minion, of all people, has started to work on a personal project. Thankfully, he has all he needs, since he was always quite the simple fellow. No fancy gems or cloth for him, just rocks.
While the miners excavate a dinning hall in Astville, minion finally completes his work. which he calls Maxcat61, after himself. It's a door. Still, despite such a terrible name, minion is now a legendary mason, which should be extremely useful to us.
Unless something terrible happens, i plan to spend the last season of this year turning Astville into a proper living place, before giving up my overseer responsabilities. It's clear that Salmeuk is conspiring to remove me from power, and the newer dwarves have no idea of what I went trough to keep this place alive. Naturally, they see a fortress just like the others, unpopulated and poorly designed, and assume I am to blame for the poor quality of life. I cannot blame them. In time, more trouble will come, and then they will understand. I will be here, waiting, until they need my genius again.
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Topic: The Hastening of Doomforests (Read 452435 times)