Well shit, fuck work and responsibilities then, IT'S TIME TO PLAY!
...oh god this FPS. This really takes me back to the last time I played in the *fail fort series.Truly the sign of a good fortress when the population is in the 20s and time is crawling slowly.
Journal of Lebo Whipsharks, the designated Overseer of Bloodyhells in Armoks year 308.One would think that with the promise of eternity, life wouldn't seem so bad. You know, what with the lack of death that tends to be rumored to go around necromancers, all that "mastery of life AND death" talk and all.
But you'd be wrong.
To this day I'm not sure exactly how one is appointed an Overseer in Bloodyhells, is it by merit? Lottery? Or does one just get tossed the big bag of responsibility and get told "don't get us all killed, even with the fact that most of us are necromancers."
Oh I remember it like it was yesterday, when all I did was open up a book and be a bit unsettled by the most upsetting writings. Dried ink that seemed to squirm and writhe the more I read. All things considered, it was a good book, a proper work of fiction, I thought.
The dreams that followed weren't so great. All those whispers from the darkness. Promises of eternity, instructions so quiet that they crawled into the deepest crevices of your mind rather than heard by your ears. It hasn't been that bad, I guess, what resulted. To just one day wake up and realize you can create life, or well, unlife as has been the case around Bloodyhells even before the epidemic of necromancy has been a most interesting experience.
I guess not all take it as well though. Poor Evaris looks stressed out of their mind.
Hard work to carry all that wood from the outside indoors. And now that I got told to be the boss, I don't know exactly how well everyone took it when I gave my first order.
"Fuck the surface."
As far as I'm concerned, we dwarves are meant to stay underground. Nothing good ever came from up above! Just look at elves. And goblins. And all the undead up there before we even got here and- anyway. Well, humans aren't so bad, most of the time, but still! We got enough problems down here already, anyway.
Time to start my tour, I guess. I don't really know Bloodyhells, more like I wander through the maze-like fortress that we have made for some gods awful reason or another. Or maybe more than one reason. I can't really remember, to be honest, I'm just a humble glassmaker after all.
Second entry, the days have lost all meaning, year 308.I can see why people are stressed out around here, walking through the myriad of paths of Bloodyhells is apparently a quite realistic metaphor for the eternal nightmare that many have begun to comprehend their lives to have become. I mean, an eternity without booze?
Here is but a small piece of the layout we have become accustomed with around here. I cannot remember for the life or death of me what purpose all these paths were for, the rooms, and best of all, all those corpses. I guess when you are a part of the living, a death is a tragedy. Obtain immortality, it's a statistic. I mean we have it right here on paper.
Even the local creature activity tends to be on the non-living side. Over a hundred of shambling corpses have been reported to be around here and there. Trapped in cages, plaguing the caverns, outside aboveground... Not to mention that one husk that has been trapped. It too isn't too happy about its current situation in its continued existence after its own transformation from the living to... That.
I'm sure I'm forgetting many more horrific things, but what's the difference between one reanimated corpse or bodypart and another anymore?
But yes, my order! I hear Flame, Puzzlebark and Spish are still slowly making their way down from Up There after I told to just leave the gods damned logs and whatever they were thinking about carrying down.
All that ~~'s in the room is pools of alcohol. For some godawful reason.
Here's something nice. A display of our current situation. I can only guess now that someone didn't like the realization of their newly found ability to sustain themselves without alcohol all that well.
I closed and sealed the door myself. No one should have to see that sight ever again, if you ask me. And I spent a hour or so just crawled up in a ball in the middle of all that spilled alcohol. I don't know if people dislike me smelling of old booze, or if it's causing traumatic flashbacks from the good old days. But I digress. The plan!
What to do, what to do? I see so many worried faces around here. And so many who don't want to show how things are stressing them out. You'd think that with a fort as small as ours, we would be one happy family, but I fear we are looking at a happy explosion of blood and guts at this rate.
Well that, or incineration, I guess. Good riddance, I say.
That made me feel good inside, its been a long while. I will have to ponder on this newfound happiness, and to think of a way to spread this emotion around.
Do we have any more elves to burn?
Third entry, I am pretty sure we are still on the early Granite, year 308."We will be legends."
My announcement for this year didn't really seem to gain all that much support from our small group. Pondering looks, outright "what the fuck is this guy spouting shit about", you know how it is when you've been given the reins to a wild horse on fire.
Things didn't really seem to improve all that much after I expanded on my statement.
"We here today are the lucky ones. The strong ones. Those with the talent and ability to survive. And all things considered, we will continue to survive. Exist, for quite a long while."
It was a pretty good speech in my opinion. I stayed up all night writing it. Well, I stay up all night all of the time these days, but again, I digress.
"Now we could continue being miserable like a lot of us like to do for our spare time these days..."
I even managed to keep my composure through the random outburst of "You mean we have anything else to do around here except haul crap?" The dramatic pause was a nice touch in my opinion as well.
"Or we could do something else."
"Like what?" was the obvious shout. I straightened myself, looked all of them straight in the eye and then said it out loud.
"I always wanted to be a weaponsmith."
I let that sink in for a while. I had already managed to make myself quite the craftsmaster in glassmaking, after all. And then after yet another dramatic pause, I pointed my finger at Dorito, who was inspecting their pick handle, probably waiting for this meeting to be over with.
"Dorito! What do you like?"
*insert missing screenshot of timely line from Dorito saying "I have been contemplating suicide."*
"No, no! What do you
like?"
"Weaponsmith!" I said out loud, and then pointed at Arthropleura.
"What do
you like?"
"Weaponsmith for you as well! This is my proposal. For all we know, we have an eternity in front of us. So why stay as we are? Why keep the craft we knew and have done just because we were good at it? Why not start trying something new? It's not like we don't have the time, ha!"
I don't know if they really appreciated my joke. Or how I told them to hand over a list of their likes and dislikes by the end of the day. But on that day, the end of my first week, I felt myself already quite an accomplished Overseer. And assuming we get trade going, we can show the whole world how our craftsmen change, evolve, and change again! Not jacks of all trades, but masters of them all! I was reminded how not everyone wasn't blessed / cursed with immortality, but just to be fair and not exclude anyone, I told Silverlock to hand in their papers as well. I'd be handing out their new jobs by the early next morning. Or evening. Before a day has passed, I think. My grip on the passing of time has changed drastically after that book. On the bright side, someone did decide to ask for more information. I like that. Makes me feel like people are invested.
"What about our current jobs?"
They didn't really seem to like it when I paused for a second, thought about it and said I didn't really give a shit, just as long as they'd follow their dreams / my orders for new jobs instead of their old-fashioned obligations or whatever drove them to their chosen path in employment.
Now, how the hell do you smelt ore and even make a crossbow?
Fourth entry, year 308.Wow, so many people wanted to be weaponsmiths, or blacksmiths or even metalcrafters! We need more room for all these smelters to get people started!
Well that, and we only have about 300 bars of metal in the fortress right now. We can always get more, I know. Mine some, melt some of the mountains of crap we have around here... But for now, we need better facilities to let people do what they should have been doing.
Fifth entry, year 308.Oh how I loathe to write this down... Elves have arrived, to trade. Give them some baubles, and get them off my hair.
Okay, here's something for an update. Honestly, after playing the fort for half a hour or so, I've just been so sunk into the horrible mess which it has become as is proper, so this first update is sort of crap in the actual action department.
Even before I started playing though, I thought it was amusing to have an entire fort of necromancers because of the whole no death thing, and figured I'd pull off the "follow your hopes and dreams" shit sort of like Morul way back then did.
I sort of got hit by another god damn issue in the fucking face though, when a project I'm working on was updated with "Yeah you remember the deadline we put to be 9.1 next year? Well, have everything done by the 16th thxloveyoubye", so I can't say that at the moment I am 100% invested in Bloodyhells. I'll try my best and shit, of course, and if I get some actual bloody brilliant/hilarious idea to pull off ingame I'll try my best, but let's see.
At the moment I've played like, what, nearly three hours and currently have ticked down 22 days out of 336... It's gonna take a while, ha. I've had worse FPS though, so my main problem is to not try and play this fort like I do with mine and have little going on until deathtraps have been constructed along backup deathtraps and whatever the fuck.
Right now the only exciting thing that has been going on, and not written down besides elves showing up to trade, has been the new forgotten beastie we have now prowling the caverns and killing local undead. Giant quadruped dinosaur, was it, with stretched wings and firebreath?
So yeah, that's all nice and shit, ain't it?
I'll grab my shitty laptop with me for the weekend when I go do shit here and there and leave this damn comp behind. Hopefully it won't be too shitty to play at all, which would mean next time I'd have chance to play would be Sunday.
Meanwhile I'll keep chugging along a while more today, write shit in the hopeful case that something interesting happens or I get a more interesting idea going on, screenshots, you know. The good shit.
STAY TUNED
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Topic: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06) (Read 140616 times)