Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

Roll back to before Taupe's disastrous turn

Keep going and see what happens

Let it die

[DolosusDoleus]

burned out

-snip-

...

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

[TheFlame52]

You know what? Fine. I'll take the save. I'LL TURN THIS FORT AROUND SO HARD YOU'LL GET WHIPLASH!

Just don't expect a lot of updates.

[Mr Frog]

You know what? Fine. I'll take the save. I'LL TURN THIS FORT AROUND SO HARD YOU'LL GET WHIPLASH!

Just don't expect a lot of updates.

Well, I already handed the save off to Monitor Lisard if we wanna get real technical here

But since he hasn't gotten back to us, sure, go ahead.

E: Although honestly if you don't have the energy for it please don't push yourself, the last thing we need is a turn that ends up going nowhere because the player ran out of steam halfway through.

[NCommander]

Well, I already handed the save off to Monitor Lisard if we wanna get real technical here

But since he hasn't gotten back to us, sure, go ahead.

E: Although honestly if you don't have the energy for it please don't push yourself, the last thing we need is a turn that ends up going nowhere because the player ran out of steam halfway through.

I for one recommend we throw dwarfs on the coals to stoke the fires of life! It's one thing we're not short on here in Clobbermountains.

[TheFlame52]

I'll wait and see whether Monitor Lizard responds. If he doesn't in a few days I'll start playing. I'll be a bit more rested by then.

[Khan Boyzitbig]

"Dark, darker, yet darker. This place is falling apart at the seems, tearing itself down. Survival rating, negative. This next turn seems...interesting. What do you guys think?"

I don't think we'll have another turn, I just wanted to post that. I've had that in a note for a few days now

I'd rather have at least one more person try to get it up and running before I declare the fort to be kill. Admittedly I'm not sure why I expect someone else to be able to run this when Lolf's beastputer couldn't even make it through a season but I don't want to throw in the towel prematurely.

E: Also gonna pop that in the quotes bank because I'm Undertale trash

Perhaps the number of nightmarish horrors consumed it. A lesser machine may pass by their unnatural gaze long enough to give us hope. Or socks. This is Dwarf Fortress afterall.

[Dorsidwarf]

I'm just so sad that His Gaudiness  died. I think that he's the best DF succession fort character since the old dread reign of HD herself.

[Monitor Lisard]

Sorry for the wait dudes. I've just wrote a huge wall of text and lost it due to a browser glistch. Felt so sad.

Anyway, posting the update soon.

[Mr Frog]

I'm just so sad that His Gaudiness  died. I think that he's the best DF succession fort character since the old dread reign of HD herself.

BRB gonna print this out and frame it

[Monitor Lisard]

I am really sorry. It's 1am and my internet is just plain bad. I have a finished update with a proper intro and a ton of pictures, but I can't post it now due to issues. Tomorrow please.

[TheFlame52]

its ok man

[Monitor Lisard]

Spoiler: Back to Clobbermountains (click to show/hide)

The old mountainhole of Mirrorclasped has changed. Since the departure of king Erib Catchtown it has been living off the stories of Clobbermountains and its great struggle against the most feared enemies of dwarvenkind - banshees, forgotten beasts and the disgusting Spawn. But there was something His Gaudiness did not think of when he left his monstrous Royal Guards behind to keep the city in his iron grip. The well known spirit of corruption imbued the streets of the old mountainhome.

Bureaucrats of Torrid Lash, no longer under constant supervision, eagerly helped their fellow citizens in exchange for lavish bribes. The new city counsil was appointed on the common ground of hatred towards the kings abominable sentinels. To prevent the unrest, and to avoid the possible legal trouble, the governor made a treaty with the townsfolk, discharging most of the officers and rounding up their hideous subordinates. Soon, the feared Royal Guards were locked up in their barracks without food and drinks. 

After that, Mirrorclasped was free. free of fear, and free of the law.

The outskirts of the city soon grew into an enourmous gutter filled with slums and brothels. Slaves and runways of all races roamed the streets freely, along with skulkers, refugees and gangers. In such a crowd a stalk, long-haired man clad in battered armor did not really stand out. Still, there was something off with his, as any tippler could've noticed - his thirst for alcohol did not really go well with  sharp ears sticking out from below of a creepy helmet.

Blackwood reached for his burse, dropping two more coins onto the bar. Yet nother pint of sewer brew went down the drain. The elf was could not really get drunk, but neither he liked the sweetish, rotten taste of the beverage. That night he hit the taverns hard, wasting a whole lot of silver and finally landing here. His squire, startled at first by a whole new world of smells, quickly accustomed to all the noise and brawl. The inkeeper gazed upon a short, frail dwarf girl dressed in ragged pelts and leather as she went through a good half of his food and alcohol stocks, while her trustee, a grim knight, was sitting by the bar keeping a calm face, chugging his putrid-looking drink and paying no attention whatsoever to his assistant's tremendous appetite.

For the first time in his ugly existence, Blackwood had no idea of what to do. The vile hunger he suffered of undermined his sanity, slowly but surely. Of course, it wasn't hard to find prey in such a city. Brutal consequences of a long-time abstinense were a problem neither. But there was other thing that the elven knight feared the most - it was the possibility of him losing control, and thus, the possibility of him dropping out of the game for a several week or around so. The strong dwarves of Torrid Lash were about to make their moves in an upcoming struggle for the throne. If Blackwood was willing to secure his future wellbeing, the only option for him was to be on alert and in control of the situation.

On a sudden, somebody tugged at his sleeve. It was his loyal assistant, Sheka the Hound, who carefully slipped into the bar. "Uh, boshh, y' gotta shee that" she murmured, pulling the sleeve insistently. "What is it" Blackwood bellowed, grabbing his scabbard, nearly knocking over an empty coat hanger. Kicking the door open the elven knight stumbled out of the tavern, tripping over the doorstep and almost falling over. "Good fer yew kid-" somebody shouted behind his back "Go get some fresh air!" An uproar of drunk laughter ensued. The earth shook below Blackwood's legs, and light coming from above burned his skin. It felt really strange.

A crowd was gathering in the middle of the street, staring at a peculiarly well-dressed dwarf accompanied by a small troup of soldiers. Clearly, those were dwarfs as well, and new to the town. The herold (as Blackwood could say by the dwarf's overly ornate hat) was reading something out loud in a solemn manner, like if he did not care about all the ruins and beggars around here.

 "...King of Torrid Lash, Lord-Mayor of Clobbermountains, The Mighty Paladin, Protector of the Weak, Father of the Nation, Our Beloved Hero..."

At that moment, the elf twitched leaned forvard, scaring a group of bums in from of him. "Ah, make way ye ratbags-" Sheka pushed the ragged townees aside, grabbing her mentor by his hand. Meanwhile, the herold was finishing his speech: "...His Gaudiness Erib Catchtowns... Passed away in the mountaihome of Clobbermountains. May his soul rest with souls of the greatest". The crowd fell silent. Blackwood froze, slowly grasping the true sense of herold's words. It was almost too late for him to jump on the bandwagon. Grabbing Sheka the collar, he dashed away from the swarm.

Thing were incredibly fast paced as Blackwood found out stopping by the former citadel. Two cabs were parked right outside the main entrance - one, abundantly decorated and adorned with golden rings, brought in His Exellency the Duke of Boltsabre. The other one, less ornate, belonged to General Unib Urmimthikut, now the top-ranking officer and the most powerful dwarf in the kingdom. "There you are, Thil!-" A short, stubby figure rose from a small chair, waving impatiantly towards the entrance. "We were expecting you". His Exellency, a round, jovial dwarf, was griinig wildly as Blackwood approached him, as if the duke was about to play one of his beloved tricks.

"Have you heard the news, sweetheart? Tumam have mercy on poor Erib's soul... So, anyway". Duke's voice jumped "Care for a new assignment?" Blackwood sighed. It was no time for him to be picky.

Once again in a while, I have been appointed a Lord-Protector of Clobbermountains. This time, by the order of Unib, who wished to "assume control of the situation" back in the Mountainhome. Hah! As if a bunch of ragged madmen could hurt their cause. They played me. I have to come with a plan... To strike back!

But first, I have to deal with all the crap.

This time, we did not have to dig our way in. The airlocks we working just hime, which made me think Clobbermountains did rather well. I was wrong. The mountainhome greeted me with a flow of miasma and rotten blood. Corpses piled up everywhere. The citizens were few, even the skulkers.

Some dwarves keep running around carrying munitions. I asked what they were doing. It seems that the previous Overseer wanted to eradicate the leftover Spawn inside the fortress by the means of siege machinery. The commander himself is said to be busy working on some craft of his... Hilarious.

Multiple emplacements can be seen everywhere.



The janitors aren't doing their work. Somebody has do something with this mess.



Armok be praised, isn't that- Uh, it's Erib's corpse. Just laying out there... Outrageous!



As i approached the commander's workshop, he darted towards me, shoving a huge ornate grate in my hands.



he was babbling something incoherently about spawn bones. It seems some actions have to be taken first.



The siege engine scheme created by this madman of a dwarf takes up too much of the fortress's current resourses. By my decree, all works related to that plan are to be suspended. Then, we have to make use of all those sharp metal sticks laying around.



After that, I am discharging the militia commander from his current positions, opting for a squad of crossbow-armed citizen guard instead.



Worrysomely, we're out of coffins to spare.



Some freshly-engraved slabs were set near the production area for some reason.



I'm proud to announce that His Gaudiness has finally found his resting place. His tomb had been defiled by some unstable dwarf. Disgusting.



Some bums claim they've seen queen's mummified body laying behing a group of Spawn through some hole in the wall. I doubt so, I haven't seen anything there.



Sheka told me she felt really nauseated today with all the odors around. No wonder.



A large group of settlers has been spotted ascending mt. Clobber. Huh, something must have happened recently... A most brutal spawn onslaught, probably.


Just as I was going to hit the observation room, some pleb approached me begging for trinkets angrily. I have no time for this nonsense, so get lost!



A host of spawn spots the newcomers as well. Hungry for fresh meat, they assault the caravan right away.



Where did those new packs come from? I don't remember any reports... Huh, it seems that the recent office fire has destroyed most of the local documents, including the combat logs and enemy surveillance papers. How... Inconvenient.



We still can salvage the situation... Around thirty dwarves are there outside. While the spawn are busy dealing with the pack animals, we're gonna open the doors to let the survivors in.



More abomination join the fight as the migrant run around, startling other hosts.



The carts keep coming... Nice day for the ambushers.



Move it, you fools!



We are preparing our own ambush in case someone univited tries to enter.



As the migrants are proseedin further into the fortress, the spawn are pretty much done killing everything ouside and make a move for the entrance... They are met with bolts. Before the outer bridge is raised, one of the monsters slipt in through, darting at the soldiers. They put up a good fight against the invader.



It seems that only eleven migrants were able to make it to the fortress. Unfortunately, the battle isn't over, for some of the snipers seem to have been either mildly scratched or bitten by the spawn... They seem fine now, but what will come next?

[NCommander]

Woohoo, I'm considered a madman. A madman with a grate!

Great update.

[Taupe]

This place (and the associated players) continues to amaze me.

[Mr Frog]

My question at this point is where the hell are all of these holistic bone artifacts coming from? Severed spawn arms do in fact turn into craftable bones but we've kinda been making it a point to avoid having to engage with them for the past 10 in-game years. Wait I just realised, we've reclaimed a bit of the old fort, yeah? There are corpses of turned dwarves literally everywhere. It's not impossible we've been making artifacts from the mutated bones of our former citizens.