I think I have my first fortress that I'll transfer to the next version, instead of starting over! I say this because the RNG gods have blessed it twice:
1. The fortress is named Mansionmurdered
2. One of my recent migrants is called Urist - and they're my new militia captain! Story below...
It's my first terrifying glacier/untamed tundra fort. Getting below the tundra wasn't too hard, although since teeth have been de-nerfed in .06 I wouldn't like to face those ice wolves again. I had to skirt an aquifer, and had some minor Fun learning about ice: "Why did my workshops-made-of-ice disappear? Where did my up-staircase go? WHY ARE MY MINERS TRAPPED?"
Since then every arriving caravan has brought a new military adventure. The first dwarven caravan mixed it up with some skeletal elk that gave everyone a good kicking - one butcher still goes to the well every so often to clean dwarven pus off his broken nose. The elves encountered skeletal muskox, which are even more vicious. By that point I had a trade depot airlock but foolishly tried to save the damn hippies. Luckily my bookkeeper-turned-militia-captain turned out to the quiet-but-deadly type. The human caravan "only" encountered a blizzardman, but it attacked a pack animal, took a masterpiece willow harp, and then started hitting everything in sight with that damn harp. My dwarves stood back and laughed.
That brings us to the second dwarven caravan. By this time I have a squad of six in shiny new steel armor. The dwarven caravan runs into seven goblin macemen, wielding SILVER maces. Those things are just plain nasty, even against steel armor. The three caravan guards go down in seconds as my militia runs to assist. My captain relieves two goblins of their heads before having a leg shattered and passing out from the pain (hey, she's only a bookkeeper). My best military dwarf - unbelievably strong, indefatigable, agile, etc - is reduced to a bloody unconscious pulp by her side. The rest of my militia gradually turn the tide despite being badly bruised... and then Urist shows up just as the last two goblins flee. Urist bravely chops them down from behind.
The captain is bedridden with "just" a shattered leg, but the pulped super-dwarf has multiple compound fractures. After several months of surgery he finally succumbs to infection, with my dabbling surgeon still trying to figure out which bit of his friend goes where. So, yeah. Who's next in line to be captain? Urist!