Hey, if that peasant swordsdwarf from toasters turn is still alive, can you dwarf me? This one looks fun.
:O
You're that dude who helped kill that one zombie camel!
...And rose through the ranks to be an awesome peasant swordsdwarf!
Ehh...I'll make a story for y'all as filler :< The least I can do anyway.
...Anyway, let me try to detail a bug(?) I've found on...seemingly "stuck" dwarves, and a weird pathing...occurrence.
(its a bug due in part: I reloaded and tested if simply moving the 'stuck' dwarf [via displacement by moving a soldier to their location] 'snaps' them out of the stuck-ness...it did--however before then, Persus never appeared in the Idler list despite...doing nothing at all. She had 'No Job' in the units screen, and all this happened after...well, detailed below in the picture. It's like she just...froze when seeing the skeleton from there. Burrows and other anything (other than forced displacement) like shifting labors and the like wouldn't do
anything to her.
...She didn't retreat in shock (which, ironically, our narrator [Cerol] did {overcome by terror} in the savescum version) or...anything.
She just charged it once the
bridge was lowered after a few, or probably several turns or so. Enough to get our military moving from the NE of the fort to the near-SE of the outside. Ironically much, she charged it by going down from a wall without a ramp without any discernible cause whatsoever.
She did nothing until 'displaced', in this situation by squad manual movement. [in the save 'scum', though it was more out of curiosity and not the real path I followed
])
It was a stroke of luck that that happened however. I expected to lose a few soldiers (or all :X) due to their...err, 'conscript' level of training. {best was the Proficient spearman, then Iden, who was a Competent maceman...the other two are recruits.}
"So I'll be honest and say I'm blunt. I'm not the best of storytellers, but maybe this is what she wanted."
It was the second month, and the apex of Springtime. Recovering from the ordeals of winter, we began rebuilding and reorganizing our people. The recent incursions of wildlife and nightmares left us with the realization that a lakeside fort--while efficient in the extreme due to topographical and terrain features to the rest of civilization--would not be an easy task. We thought of a natural moat which can be drawn and retracted at a thought; we didn't think of the problems in between.
Trauma. This affected everyone lately. The air was ripe with feelings of a burden intangible and shared between us, leaning on our hope to break it. I am Cerol, son of Edėm. Tracker by trade, and now a swordsdwarf in this fortress' reformed militia. I'll cut my own introduction short--my abilities with tracking allow me to read people easily, and my intuition is backed up by rational analysis as any sciencedwarf would tell you.
I'd like to commemorate Persus, who was an avid worker to our defenses. Her work was prized amongst the many hands which built our fortress.
 | Along with the rest of our farmers-turned-workers, she quite literally paved the way with the blocks of our forefathers and those who came before us into building such a wall that it would withstand any determent and impact. The Crannog would be fortified later on, she said. I noted she prioritized reinforcement over construction, and our frontal fortress over the island of stone. She carried out most of the masonry to the walls, I recall, as everyone else had other labors to attend to. |
She was someone I looked up to, and that was a sincere compliment given my...aptitude. One day, however, I found myself staring up at the sky, silently glaring back at the sun whose rays caused my stomach to churn. I then came across a shadow while moving to the training grounds. Up on the wall was Persus, staring off into the distance. *I wished to bother her, but she seemed concentrated: she had a focused gaze, and I discarded the idea as something not to worry about; she had that look when there was something big in her mind. May she be remembered well.
Days passed, and I approached my fellow soldier, Iden. He was a farmer, a dwarf of the soil--he had a mindset different from mine, as I cherished the hunt instead. He was wise, however, and was always like a ray of sunshine in these times: he was annoying with his optimism, yet it...was needed, in a good way. I guess I was grumpy at that time. Must've been the scores of death I've seen. Anyway, I approached the man while he taught me how to dodge a blow--that it was better to not get hit even if you had the best of armor on you--and I pointed out Persus to him. He sighed and shrugged.
"The Elven Caravans are on the perimeter. Either she's watching for them or its something about the masonry she's concerned with. My instincts tell me otherwise, however. She's been through a lot more than you or I."
Honestly, past the drawn bridge, the caravans were sitting in place and awaiting the pull of the lever. This didn't bother me or dictate why I even brought out the idea, but Persus...had been sitting there (or standing, it was hard to tell from so far below) for days on end ever since the month of Granite. She should be sleepy, or even thirsty--I know, I took several meals and a nice keg out until then--and yet, I couldn't help but feel for her somehow.
It was like something was still
alive in me, and it wasn't a rock for some reason.
"That's empathy," he said. "Soon, the bridges will be lowered and we will escort the caravan in. They have been drawn ever since Winter--who knows what filth will have claimed the lands outside, ready to take on hapless
Elves prey?"
The next days felt like minutes, as the next thing I heard was an order from the four-masked mayor to station outside the entrance and provide escort. I cast an eye towards Persus as the bridge lowered and the rest of us, numbering four in total, with the latter two getting a couple of auxiliary weapons for comfort, moved out (one had a baby strapped
extremely safely onto her, in the tradition of carrying your children off to battle if a warrior--something along the idea of value and strength in the family, and if a parent dies, all the harder it would be for children of the grieving family). Persus was standing now, and looked like a sentinel on vigilant watch.
We moved out of the fortress, and our worn and wearing boots crunched against the fresh red sand. Iden raised his mace towards the Elves and greeted them as they approached and we turned to make a patrol around the area, just to ensure safety. Before we passed the corner of the fort, I saw a figure fall from the wall and continue running off in our direction--I recognized Persus running off. She wasn't supposed to be able to walk, after days being awake: fatigued and drowsy, my curiosity made me call onto the others and follow in pursuit.
There was but one enemy. A skeleton. It was a camel.
But it was too late.
Her attack on the creature proved a crucial gateway for us to wedge our strikes in--most glancing off
mere bone, which Iden
would later remark on as 'twisted and enchanted by supernatural forces', as I've known our hammers, axes, spears, and maces able to even break these in two from my youth. With a cry of battle, it took us nearly a day to beat the creature senseless--most of it crippled after our wedge-attack.
Persus had died, and we inferred through the best course of logic, that by her thoughts there was something deeper, something more
oppressive that could bring a dwarf away from the cultural love that is both beer and breaktime (and good labor, of course), that cursed this land. Iden told me to not adhere to such ideas, but I keep them as a guide and not as a rule to judge my actions in the future.
Other than a stinking kobold thief who ran away with a glinting object in its dog-like arms, we found the perimeter secure, and called on the Haulers to regain what was lost, and the Farmers to bury the dead (suitably told, as they cared for our food--on earth back to earth, the motto says).
I would remain vigil in the months to come. This experience being a harrowing tale on our future, yet offset by one fact.
We would stand united. Unity would bring us strength.
Oh, and the Elves left only a day after they arrived, having been waiting outside the fortress yet at the perimeter for around three-quarters of a month. I'm glad Toaster was there to condition the trade. We have...more food.
And a giant kakapo. Everyone loves these birds. Now the problem is that it isn't trained, but a stray. I wonder what they eat.
Night 1 has ended! Day 2 has arrived!
Persus Melbilzedot has been killed in the night! She was a Fortress Mason! (Innocent)
On a parallel tangent...
PS: Hammers are better than maces; the only literal difference between the two are contact area: Hammers have a value of 10, maces have 20.
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Topic: WIFOM Fortress - Night 4 - "Peerless visionary" floods fort with GCSs (Read 61563 times)