So it came to pass that the Planet of Winds was forged on Armok's infinite anvil. And Armok beheld the Planet of Winds, and decided it was ‼Fun‼, at least for a while. Thus, it was allowed to exist and flourish, at least for a while...
There comes a time in every Mountainhome when there are just too many dwarves wandering, crawling, hobbling and prancing about (but mostly crawling all over each other) within the astute, vomit-strewn halls and corridors. Thus, a new settlement becomes a necessity, to dump all the useless dabbling cheese makers to die horrible deaths in the ass end of nowhere build a home for yet another thriving community of sturdy peasant-folk, for the glory of all dwarvenkind.
So, the seven of us were kicked out evicted sent forth from the Mountainhomes, to build a glorious Dwarven Fortress by the name of Machineworks, in a lovely little place known as the Woods of Suicide. With such an auspicious name, how could anything possibly go wrong?
After a long trek across the countryside (which was nice), we came at last to the edge of the Woods of Suicide, the chosen site of our future fortress. Machineworkgs was nothing like the countryside: the pants was dead and the ground was all bloody and messy from headcr... Oops, sorry, I seem to have segued into a different epic there. Anyway, most of the site turns out to be dead glumprongs and wormy tendrils, with a patch of normal vegetation at the southeast corner. Also, it's bloody scorching out here, and water is nowhere to be found.
First order of business, dig in. Our miners grab their picks and set about clearing a promising-looking sandy ridge of slopes, limiting access to our enemies. They then punch a steep downward passage into the side of the hill. After four or five layers of soil, they report hitting slate and microcline, and turn the dig into a horizontal tunnel, followed by barracks and a ramp down to the area to house our future trade depot. The rest of us make busy with cutting down trees and gathering plants from one of the more wholesome areas of the site.
Eventually, our woodcutters come across something rather disturbing: even when it was alive, it was some kind of horrifying giant snail. Now, it's all that and an unholy mockery of life, oozing viscera and stinking of a rotting carcass. We have little choice but try to take it down before it kills us all, so we swarm at it with wood-cutting axes and miners' picks. In the end, one of our number is dead, his skull stepped on pushed in by the monster, and another in critical condition, passing in and out of consciousness in the blistering heat outside. Fortunately, the snail-corpse-monster-thing also seems to have stopped twitching, at least for now. I think it fell on the non-evil part of the map, so there's a faint hope it will stay that way.
What kind of unholy blight on the landscape is this? Who would think embarking upon the Woods of Suicide would turn out to be a literal suicide?
...To Be Continued?