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[MrSelfDestruct]

Then I discovered that the squad I'd sent on a raid months ago hadn't fully left. For some reason the squad leader, my champion, would just stand in place instead of commencing the raid. I finally managed to get him to leave the map by stationing him individually right next to the map edge.

That kind of stuff has been happening to me over and over since they added in raids and hasn't been fixed yet I don't think. Also, since the fiasco I had when a raid came back and they dropped all of their specifically picked equipment I gave them onto the ground on the edge of the map (I'm talking full masterwork steel on a 20 skill axedwarf squad.) I never messed with it again because it took ages for them to reequip their stuff.

[TD1]

My personal gripe atm is with my marksdwarves. They are not content with their nice, safe fortifications. Oh no. Instead, the little spider-monkeys climb down the sheer face of a wall to plunge gleefully into certain death. Meaning I have to prematurely send in my melee squads to save their worthless lives, greatly increasing the butcher's bill.

The only solution I've found is to Fortify both sides of the wall, which is a real pain in the neck.

[MrSelfDestruct]

My personal gripe atm is with my marksdwarves. They are not content with their nice, safe fortifications. Oh no. Instead, the little spider-monkeys climb down the sheer face of a wall to plunge gleefully into certain death. Meaning I have to prematurely send in my melee squads to save their worthless lives, greatly increasing the butcher's bill.

The only solution I've found is to Fortify both sides of the wall, which is a real pain in the neck.

I normally build an entire stone roof over my fort to prevent both fliers from getting in and also my marksdwarves from getting out.

[Carnage752]

I'm a huge fan of playing unconventional setups in Dwarf Fortress, and on and off again for the last four years I decided to play full on subterranean animal people civs and lead them from obscurity to glory.

The basic goal behind each embark with an underground civ was to survive as the only settlement like it within each world, becoming the capital of the underground civ, growing to 200 population of homegrown, handpicked and individually trained master citizens, and eventually splitting the colony once the cap has been reached to another settlement to start the cycle again, eventually giving rise to a full fledged above-ground civilization. The updates within the last two years adding fort retiring and raiding to the fortress has done wonders to help make the goal feasible. So once more this summer, I resume my quest.

This iteration, I am playing a heavily modified antman civilization, embarking upon a glacier between two necromancer towers, a goblin civ, human, dwarf, and elf neighbors, and no other surviving antmen for the last 300 years. These antmen have had their life spans modified to least between 30 to 80 years depending on caste, possess all of the technology of the dwarves, and a simplified entity structure for nobility and worldgen actions.

Right now I just had my first water source melted from a massive chunk of ice, my only queen married to a drone to start pumping out more antmen, and the beginning of my gem and stone industry winding up to start making the fortress homey. Merchants should be coming soon from the elves, but no other contacts will come for a long time.

Funnily enough, I embarked on a glacier tile with a Glacier Titan shrine within the area, resident still alive and angry. He has left us alone for now. Maybe I shall capture and build a non-affiliated temple to have my next generation worship him.

Wandering yetis keep messing with my antmen, and are currently my biggest threat to the birth of a antmen dynasty. I may post more as things develop.

[Iamblichos]

To Those Who May Come After:
I say to you, of all shadows that might befall a people, a mad ruler is the worst.
The Charcoal Ceilings has always been hated of the gods; we do not know why, we do not know what caused this, but it is plain and apparent that since the dawn of the Age, our people have been afflicted with troubles that others of our race have not.  The Post of Markets, slothful, fat and vain… 56 cities, homes and hillocks… thousands call those places home.  The Gravel of Wasps, even more.  But we, the accursed, the few… we have only 2 feeble hovels.  Our first king, Dakost Shockedkey… slain, by a giant in our capital the year it was founded.  Four years later, Queen Urist Bannerspeech… slain in almost the same spot by a many-headed serpent.  King Zasit, King Catten… all slain.  It was during the reign of Queen Urist II Toolstrike when the worst foe appeared… the elves of the Vermilion Hoof.  Since her time, some 90 years past, it has been one desperate rearguard action after another.  The knife-ears have given us no peace, no explanation, they just appear, and kill, and vanish again into the forests.  Each of our monarchs has fallen to them.  When King Nomal, called Sabretorch, fell in the Routed War, we thought our luck had turned.  He was a good poet, but a wretched warrior, and we need axes, not poems.  He was the wrong king for the time.  When Iteb Hammertalks was made queen, we thought she would finally begin proper planning for the war we cannot seem to escape.  We were mistaken, and it may indeed be our final mistake. 
We have been forced to realize that the queen, far from the warrior she used to be, is quite mad.  She is obsessed with death and dying.  She raves through the palace, demanding artifacts and books we have never heard of; she sneaks out to other cities, claiming false names, like a thief in the night.  When she announced that a new fortress would be founded, we all rejoiced at the idea of finally living somewhere defensible… but then she announced that Jewelcharmed will only create jewelry and gems as an offering to Kadol the Ivory Fortune, god of wealth.  Instead of our generals, the leader of the expedition was a gemcutter.  There is no iron in this place.  The sour taste of despair fills our mouths.
This is the chronicle of what is likely our last feeble effort.  May the gods have mercy on all of us.
I, Catten Swordfeet, leave this chronicle of our fortress to whomever may come.  Please, stranger, spare a moment to think well of us, sent here to die on the whims of a mad queen during the end of our days, the last gasp of the Charcoal Ceiling.  May we meet again in a better place.

[doublestrafe]

After several years of doing other things, I have finally picked up his game again. I had a couple of false starts, but I finally found a site with calm badlands bordering a sinister forest, with coal and limonite right at the surface and no evil weather.

My immediate hope at that point was that the evil biome was reanimating, so that I could train archers on zombies, so I butchered my horses and dragged some hair into the forest. To my delight, it rose from the dead, and my hammerman promptly smashed off its...leg? Not sure how hair has legs, but it did the job.

Checking the logs, I noticed that the hammerman was making his feelings known, something I'm not used to. Apparently he was not bothered by being attacked by the dead, which is good because he's going to have to get used to it. Immediately afterward, he did complain...about being rained on.

Damn, it's good to be back.

[TD1]

To Those Who May Come After:
I say to you, of all shadows that might befall a people, a mad ruler is the worst.
The Charcoal Ceilings has always been hated of the gods; we do not know why, we do not know what caused this, but it is plain and apparent that since the dawn of the Age, our people have been afflicted with troubles that others of our race have not.  The Post of Markets, slothful, fat and vain… 56 cities, homes and hillocks… thousands call those places home.  The Gravel of Wasps, even more.  But we, the accursed, the few… we have only 2 feeble hovels.  Our first king, Dakost Shockedkey… slain, by a giant in our capital the year it was founded.  Four years later, Queen Urist Bannerspeech… slain in almost the same spot by a many-headed serpent.  King Zasit, King Catten… all slain.  It was during the reign of Queen Urist II Toolstrike when the worst foe appeared… the elves of the Vermilion Hoof.  Since her time, some 90 years past, it has been one desperate rearguard action after another.  The knife-ears have given us no peace, no explanation, they just appear, and kill, and vanish again into the forests.  Each of our monarchs has fallen to them.  When King Nomal, called Sabretorch, fell in the Routed War, we thought our luck had turned.  He was a good poet, but a wretched warrior, and we need axes, not poems.  He was the wrong king for the time.  When Iteb Hammertalks was made queen, we thought she would finally begin proper planning for the war we cannot seem to escape.  We were mistaken, and it may indeed be our final mistake. 
We have been forced to realize that the queen, far from the warrior she used to be, is quite mad.  She is obsessed with death and dying.  She raves through the palace, demanding artifacts and books we have never heard of; she sneaks out to other cities, claiming false names, like a thief in the night.  When she announced that a new fortress would be founded, we all rejoiced at the idea of finally living somewhere defensible… but then she announced that Jewelcharmed will only create jewelry and gems as an offering to Kadol the Ivory Fortune, god of wealth.  Instead of our generals, the leader of the expedition was a gemcutter.  There is no iron in this place.  The sour taste of despair fills our mouths.
This is the chronicle of what is likely our last feeble effort.  May the gods have mercy on all of us.
I, Catten Swordfeet, leave this chronicle of our fortress to whomever may come.  Please, stranger, spare a moment to think well of us, sent here to die on the whims of a mad queen during the end of our days, the last gasp of the Charcoal Ceiling.  May we meet again in a better place.

Nicely written!

[random_odd_guy]

Lots of stuff been going on in my fort. but apparently my military aren't the only badasses around. I just saw a combat report where a random elf herbalist who joined my fort beat down a giant cave spider with his bare hands. DABBLING FIGHTER MY ASS...

[thefriendlyhacker]

...
My immediate hope at that point was that the evil biome was reanimating, so that I could train archers on zombies, so I butchered my horses and dragged some hair into the forest. To my delight, it rose from the dead, and my hammerman promptly smashed off its...leg? Not sure how hair has legs, but it did the job.
...

From TVTropes...

While developing necromancy for Dwarf Fortress, Toady accidentally created undead from the skin and hair of a killed monster, as well as its skeleton. He figured it made as much sense as skeletons and zombies, and kept it. Nowadays undead skins and hair are among the most dangerous of all DF creatures, since they have no vitals, don't need to breathe, and don't bleed out from massive damage — short of cave-in, atom-smasher, or encasing in ice/obsidian, they cannot be killed. There was also one update where Toady fixed the "glitch" where meals made entirely of booze would melt below room temperature - rather than the glitch that lets you make meals entirely out of booze in the first place.

The above is somewhat out of date, though. Undead Hair monsters are killable now (as you discovered).

[pikachu17]

I have two questions.
Do both male and female dwarves get bad thoughts on not having shirts?
Can homosexual dwarves get married?

[Klisz]

Do both male and female dwarves get bad thoughts on not having shirts?

Yes. DF has no concept of gender roles; barring possibly DFhack, there's not even any way to mod them in (which can be a bit annoying when attempting to create entities based on real-world cultures).

Can homosexual dwarves get married?

It's been a while since I've played fortress mode, but at least in adventure mode you can encounter same-gender married couples.

[Dunamisdeos]

Do both male and female dwarves get bad thoughts on not having shirts?

Yes. DF has no concept of gender roles; barring possibly DFhack, there's not even any way to mod them in (which can be a bit annoying when attempting to create entities based on real-world cultures).

Can homosexual dwarves get married?

It's been a while since I've played fortress mode, but at least in adventure mode you can encounter same-gender married couples.

If you remove [CLOTHING] from the civ, they will not care about it. But it's still not gender based.

[doublestrafe]

This version of DF is proving to be strange and mysterious to me. Aside from the feather tree egg yolks in my depot and the constant stream of visitors, I'm being deluged with nobles. It's year 2 of Earthmansion, and I've been dealing with the mandates and demands of a mayor and three Barons. And just now, I got notified that being the rightful heir, some guy named Tolmo Lecitbuh is the new King of the Fountain of Empires--my civilization.

Except something is fishy here. I've never heard the name Tolmo before--looks like it's a human name. I went to find him on the Units page, and searching for "tol" (LNP function) comes up blank. Then, deep down in his thoughts, I noticed that it says "Urist is unfocused by unmet needs." Yeah, like a big room and a real name... Back on the Units page, searching for Urist pulls up Tolmo!

I did check to make sure he's a dwarf, and that he drinks booze, and all that checks out. So I dunno what's up with this guy. I guess if I were the heir to the throne, I'd want a false identity too.

[Splint]

He used to be a spy. There's currently a bug in regards to false identities not properly removing themselves when a dwarf comes home to their parent civ. I had a couple soldiers working under assumed names and jobs (as a Thief and a Monster Slayer respectively,) that I learned the true names of when I had to make headstones for them.

[Orkel]

My carpenter keeps falling on the floor in horror in the middle of jobs, because he's reliving his memories of seeing a pile of goblin corpses after a siege. I think it's safe to say the guy has PTSD thanks to the new system. He even went to cry on the mayor's shoulder about it which gave him a slight happy thought, it's not stopping the constant corpse flashbacks though.