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Author Topic: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)  (Read 140312 times)

TheFlame52

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #270 on: June 09, 2016, 01:30:10 pm »

It's not the zombies that are the threat - it's the two husked warriors. There's a macedwarf and a human lasher that both have like 20 kills, with no sign of stopping.

Archereon

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #271 on: June 09, 2016, 03:54:06 pm »

First of all, you'll want to disable the underground alert; it screws with surface migrants. There are plenty of secure entrances to bring them inside while keeping the husks out, if you can lock someone in a room with levers.

(mind, your citizens will try to store items from the surface if they're not properly burrowed)


Yeah, my first order of business was to forbid stuff on the surface. We're up to five dwarves now, it's midsummer, and something awesome just happened...
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I want to tell you they were bad men, cephalo.  I want to tell you that with a better overseer the Fortress never would've gotten so bad someone would get offed in a pointless fisticuffs.
But the sad truth charlie?
It was inevitable.

TheFlame52

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #272 on: June 09, 2016, 06:07:53 pm »

Did a group of enemies show up and destroy another hostile force, then retreat? Or did Flame marry one of the other dwarves?

Archereon

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #273 on: June 09, 2016, 06:58:26 pm »

Did a group of enemies show up and destroy another hostile force, then retreat? Or did Flame marry one of the other dwarves?

Even better, but you'll have to wait and see for my updates.
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I want to tell you they were bad men, cephalo.  I want to tell you that with a better overseer the Fortress never would've gotten so bad someone would get offed in a pointless fisticuffs.
But the sad truth charlie?
It was inevitable.

Archereon

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #274 on: June 09, 2016, 08:57:38 pm »

Spring 303: Prologue



Preface of Visions of the Abyss: The Early Years of Bloodyhells by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:

In the dawning days of the year 303, on the orders of Calovi Aquaneidala, our Queen reigning in Awimoarane, I was dispatched to the Suicidal Hills on the western coast of Aluonra to deliver to the dwarves of Uthmikminkot a message of reprisal for their wanton felling of trees. This was a task given to me, she claimed, in recognition of my swift feet, my natural sense of direction, and my  "great rapport with the dwarven people. But even before the orders had left her mouth, I had come to realize the truth of her intentions: I was being sent on a suicide mission, for I had allowed one of the sacred groves to burn to the ground in an effort to preserve the lives of several of our people, and maintained then, as I do now, that my actions were justified. Of course, coming directly from our Queen, I was in no position to refuse the mission, and after a sleepless night, I set out to the east. Contrary to what our Queen's flattery would imply, I do not have a particularly strong sense of direction; in fact I have every reason to suspect Lady Calovi expected me to perish in the wilderness by the hands of the boogeymen. With the help of a local dwarven guide, I avoided that cruel fate, and found myself at the edge of the Suicidal Hills a little more than a week after I departed. After thanking my guide for his selfless aid and bidding him farewell, I took one last look back before setting off into the unknown...



Excerpts from Collected Logs of the year 303 by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:


21st Granite, year 303
My journey through the suicidal hills has gone largely without incident; though I saw several clouds of the accursed mist that blights these lands, the wind has been favorable, and none of the fog banks has been in any danger of overtaking me. Even before setting foot in the fortress proper, I feel incredibly unwelcome here, a feeling that is not aided by the surly attitude of my traveling companions; two living dwarves who are purportedly headed to the fortress as migrants. Thus far, I have neither asked of their past, nor been offered their story. I have however gotten their names and professions; Spish Zulbankashez, a soldier of fortune and occassional fisherdwarf, and Sodel "NCommander", a miner, and allegedly, a talented cook. While neither of them seem particularly keen on traveling with an elf, in these forsaken lands, it would be nothing short of madness to turn away another friendly face. This was proven when we happened upon a roving band of the undead, perhaps a dozen in number. Working together they were easily dispatched. From what Spish has said, we are drawing close to the fortress, and should arrive tomorrow morning. I can only hope he's right; for several nights now, I have been seeing shapes moving in the darkness, and though none have thus far come close enough to our campfire to identify, I can smell a faint but distinct odor, and I'm not quite sure what it is.

22nd Granite, year 303
Today we arrived at Bloodyhells. When I first laid eyes upon the desolate coastline strewn with corpses and all manner of refuse, my initial assumption was that we had stumbled upon the site of some ancient, forgotten battle. According to my companions however, there are distinct signs of recent habitation, and, rather more worryingly, of recent bloodshed. As we drew close, I became aware of an overpowering stench, decidedly unpleasant, but not readily identifiable, hanging in the air.


"Cloud to the east!" shouted Spish from somewhere behind me. I turned to face him, and sure enough, a bank of ghastly yellow mist was surging over a nearby hill, and headed our way.


Naturally, we ran. I had heard tales of how the mist in these lands would sap the life from those caught in it, and had no desire to put those stories to the test. We ran until we were panting and sweating, but the cloud was relentless, and quite a bit faster than us. Just as it seemed it would overtake us, the vapors slowed to a halt. I fell to me knees, gasping for air. As I recovered, and regained sufficient presence of mind to focus on my surroundings once more, I became aware of a most peculiar noise coming from behind us, from somewhere within the fog: rattling, labored breathing punctuated by the clanking of armored footfalls.


"Deg preserve us." whimpered NCommander, as an ominous figure resolved itself from the roiling cloud.


Short and stout and clad in rusted steel, the creature before us had clearly once been a dwarf. In its left hand, it carried a wooden shield fortified by metallic bands, and in its right, a wicked mace seemingly constructed of bronze. What little of the creature's skin was visible beneath the armor was tinged sickly, unnatural mustard brown. Rather unnervingly, the skin itself was pockmarked, with hundreds of small, regularly spaced holes where there once would've been smooth skin. A dark, viscous puss seeped from these holes as the creature exhaled, and the edges of these nauseating pores bore extensive, discolored scabs. The patches of skin between the sores looked exceedingly dry, and was cracked and flaking in many spots. As the creature drew close, its head snapped towards us, and it let out a soft, wheezing growl before advancing, bringing with it the same unidentifiable stench that permeated the area magnified a thousand fold. To my right, I heard NCommander cough and gag, before spew the contents of his stomached all over the desiccated grass.


Fighting back the urge to vomit myself, I drew my sword. Forged of steel, and sized for a dwarf, it was a recent, but prized acquisition of mine. Settling into a guard position, I looked to my companions. NCommander was on his hands and knees, still grappling with nausea from the creature's stench. Spish was shaken, but still standing, hefting an iron war axe. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and he nodded grimly. Then the beast was upon us, bringing its mace to bear with a grace that seemed utterly incompatible with its horrific appearance. I parried, binding the weapon with my own, and creating an opening for Spish. With a bellow, he brought his axe down on the small of the creature's back, splitting its armor open and all but cutting its spine asunder. Beyond stumbling from the initial impact, the creature barely even acknowledged the blow. Twisting its torso with tremendous strength, Spish was pulled along by his weapon, and struck with a blow from an armored elbow that sent him toppling off balance. The creature turned, and raised its weapon for a killing blow. Grasping my sword with both hands, I darted forwards, swinging at the creature's now exposed neck with all my might. My strike connected just as it had begun the downwards motion of its swing, and cut three quarters of the way through the neck, passing cleanly through the spine. Great quantities of ichor spewed from the wound, and the creature crumpled, with Spish just barely managing to roll out of the way. With the creature slain, the ghastly cloud vanished, dissipating just as quickly as it had appeared. I helped Spish to his feet, and while he rebuffed my concerned inquiry about his well-being and insisted he was fine and didn't need my help despite having number of visible cuts and bruises, he spoke in the same, casual tone of voice he used while conversing with his fellow dwarves.


"So where can we find the entrance to the fort?" I asked. "I don't particularly fancy our odds against another one of...Whatever that thing was." Spish thought and began to answer, only to be interrupted by a solid sounding clunk. Whirling to face the sound, sowrd drawn, I was relieved to see not another creature of the fog or zombie, but the face of a dwarven woman, poking out from under an open hatch which had previously been obscured by a pile of abandoned books and scrolls.


"There, I guess." said Spish.


She nodded, laughing mirthlessly. "Welcome to motherfucking Bloodyhells!"




(This entry is mostly based on stuff that actually happened, though slightly embellished from effect. I'm leaving out, for example, the fact that the husk was swarmed by visitors in addition to Archereon getting the killing blow for dramatic effect,and there was a fog cloud spawned early on, but it did't come anywhere close to the Spish, NCommander, or Archereon. Also the fight with the husk lasted a fairly long time, long enough that almost everyone was getting tired if not overexerted.)
« Last Edit: June 11, 2016, 10:05:39 pm by Archereon »
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I want to tell you they were bad men, cephalo.  I want to tell you that with a better overseer the Fortress never would've gotten so bad someone would get offed in a pointless fisticuffs.
But the sad truth charlie?
It was inevitable.

speciesunkn0wn

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06) - DON'T PANIC
« Reply #275 on: June 09, 2016, 10:13:37 pm »

Am i the only one with any sense of morality here?

Morality is relative,
Puppies are cheap,
Dwarves are zealots of,
A place that creeps and leaks,
where oversears send them to die,
so we may feast on their on their sorrow,
as we chew on their marrow
Just never forget,
That Bloodyhells is always a threat.

Can I sig this? The poem. 'Tis glorious!
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DF Veterans- n. - One who has lost one or more forts due to a stupid oversight.

Morality is relative,/Puppies are cheap,/Dwarves are zealots of,/A place that creeps and leaks,/where oversears send them to die,/so we may feast on their on their sorrow,/as we chew on their marrow
Just never forget,/That Bloodyhells is always a threat.

Spish

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #276 on: June 09, 2016, 11:06:15 pm »

Excellent intro Archereon. I can already tell this is going to be quite the interesting year.
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Ah, yes, I thought something was amiss. Now I see. There's not enough terrible things in the lakes.

Archereon

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #277 on: June 10, 2016, 12:12:32 pm »

Excellent intro Archereon. I can already tell this is going to be quite the interesting year.

Hey, do you know if building a trade depot in the caverns with access to a map edge still lets you get dwarven merchants? IIRC it definitely worked like that in 0.34.11
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I want to tell you they were bad men, cephalo.  I want to tell you that with a better overseer the Fortress never would've gotten so bad someone would get offed in a pointless fisticuffs.
But the sad truth charlie?
It was inevitable.

Spish

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #278 on: June 10, 2016, 01:44:30 pm »

You mean through the caves? No idea, I've never tried it.

Edit:

Is this what's left of our old military? Gross.
« Last Edit: June 10, 2016, 02:15:24 pm by Spish »
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Ah, yes, I thought something was amiss. Now I see. There's not enough terrible things in the lakes.

Archereon

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #279 on: June 10, 2016, 02:26:19 pm »

You mean through the caves? No idea, I've never tried it.

Edit:

Is this what's left of our old military? Gross.

Probably. I've just taken the first step towards reclaiming the upper fort; I captured that trapped husk that was blocking the main entrance in a cage trap.

Edit: game crashed not long after I caught the bastard; the most recent save was before I got him, and I ended up using a different entrance to the fort, which didn't have a trapped husk.
« Last Edit: June 11, 2016, 04:46:14 pm by Archereon »
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I want to tell you they were bad men, cephalo.  I want to tell you that with a better overseer the Fortress never would've gotten so bad someone would get offed in a pointless fisticuffs.
But the sad truth charlie?
It was inevitable.

NCommander

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #280 on: June 10, 2016, 02:33:00 pm »

I'm plot relevant. YAY!

Can I sig this? The poem. 'Tis glorious!

Go for it.
--

NCommander's Journal

Of course I leave the mountainhomes to avoid being bullied for my cooking, to that new colony 'Bloodyhells', just to find walking zombies, and of course, me loosing my lunch.

I'm fucking sick of always being the guy people pick on. First thing tomorrow, I'm going to the overseer, and asking to be enlisted in the military. I hope they have a spare whip around here, I want to make things hurt.

« Last Edit: June 11, 2016, 04:59:31 pm by NCommander »
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Quote from: TheFlame52
Fucking hell man, you aren't just getting the short end of the stick, you're being beaten with it.
Quote from: NRDL
Is your plan really to flush water into hell, and have the CARP marines fight them without threat of flame or disease?  If so, you are awesome, and one of the greatest DF military visionaries I've seen yet ( not that I've seen that many, or any, for that matter )

Fleeting Frames

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #281 on: June 10, 2016, 09:24:22 pm »

Hey, do you know if building a trade depot in the caverns with access to a map edge still lets you get dwarven merchants? IIRC it definitely worked like that in 0.34.11

Did a quick embark to test this (stair down, depot into caverns, floor stair over, fire imps in volcano decided to suddenly actually take action and set my everything on fire and scare one surviving dwarf on top of a tree and cause collapse spam. Welp, at least it wasn't as bad as embarking on top of a gemstone titan.)

....Did another bit slower and safer embark. Merchants arrived on top, wagons bypassing my inaccessible site, despite trade depot being marked as accessible on D and having only path to map edge be from caverns (walled out of fort).
« Last Edit: June 10, 2016, 09:32:15 pm by Fleeting Frames »
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Taupe

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #282 on: June 10, 2016, 11:07:30 pm »

Excellent intro Archereon. I can already tell this is going to be quite the interesting year.

Hey, do you know if building a trade depot in the caverns with access to a map edge still lets you get dwarven merchants? IIRC it definitely worked like that in 0.34.11
Yeah my 34.x merchants are now exiting the fortress via a small hole leaving to a river that flushes outside the map. What the actual fuck.

...Not sure they'll ever enter through there, tho.

Archereon

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #283 on: June 11, 2016, 04:40:41 pm »

Spring 303

Excerpt from Visions of the Abyss: The Early Years of Bloodyhells by Iyathi "Archereon" Awemedinade:


     The situation in Nashonshash upon my arrival was one of near total despair. Flame, the dwarf who had opened up the hatch cover for us, was apparently one of two surviving dwarves left in the fortress, the other being Zuglarkun Rigathuson a young miner who looked to be barely out of his teens. There had until very recently been a third, the mayor of the settlement, but he had disappeared into the night shortly after the arrival of spring, seemingly favoring his chances with the husks over staying put in the ruins of the settlement. The rest of the population had perished in a desperate battle against one of the great titans of the wild, which had been warped by cursed fog into an unstoppable monstrosity. With no means of slaying the creature, it had been lured into a hastily dug labyrinth, and sealed away. Sure enough, from the re-purposed dining room the survivors were using as a base, I could hear the sound of claws scratching stone emanating from the far wall of an adjacent corridor. In its rampage, the beast had inflicted terrible damage upon the fortress, and, other than the small, and apparently recently dug passageway to the surface, the upper levels of the settlement were lost, with the reanimated corpses of the fortress's livestock blocking access to the fortress's great stockpiles, as well as the farms. We were in no danger of starving immediately however, as the dining room had an enormous pantry, stocked with enough food to last through the year with just the five of us. Initially I was incredulous of this claim, since surely the food would spoil long before we were in danger of running out, but apparently, dwarven preservation techniques are indeed every bit as miraculous as the stories claim. While it would be many months before we regained access to fresh food, I never became ill from my meals, nor did the food lose its taste over time.


     As I stood out like a sore thumb, it wasn't long before the dwarves of Nashonshash asked of my purpose so far away from the elven homelands. While Spish and NCommander seemed cordial enough, I had the distinct impression that the other two were itching for an excuse to lynch me. Moreover, I was fairly certain that, even should I complete my task and return home whole, the Queen would quickly think of another errand for me that would prove to be even deadlier, and with the mayor gone, there was no figure of authority to officially receive the message. Thus, I claimed to have been exiled from the elven kingdoms, and seeking my fortune in dwarven lands. Though I personally do not approve of the wanton clear cutting of forestry that dwarves and humans indulge in, without the magic of the shapers, they have no means of harvested appreciable quantities of wood otherwise.


     But I digress. The most pressing issue facing the fortress was, surprisingly enough, not the numerous undead stalking the halls of the upper fortress, which had been sealed off behind a pair of sturdy rock doors, but rather the rather alarming rate at which water was flooding the lower levels of the fortresses. Both Flame and Zuglarkun insisted they had nothing to do with it, and bickered endlessly, even as the water rose to their waists. The source of this flooding was a mishandled irrigation project of some sorts, perhaps intended for agriculture closer to the fortress's heart, which had apparently been drawing water from the local aquifer. A second breach, consisting of a shaft dug upwards into the aquifer from what appeared to be a cell block, also contributed to the flooding, but was in an area with enough drainage for Spish and myself to plug the gap after only a few days of struggle against the current.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)



     The breach closer to the stairwell was of far greater concern; at no point in time was the water low enough for someone to work effectively. In the end, it was NCommander who came up with a solution; use a pump. This required an expedition into the caverns however, as our chosen holdout was cutoff from the fortresses wood stockpile. Seemingly looking to rid themselves of me, Flame and Zuglarkun immediately volunteered me for the task. Both seemed surprised when, several hours layer, I returned with a armful of logs harvested from one of the great mushrooms found in the deep. While I took little joy in destroying such a magnificent specimen, I understand the concept of necessity. With the pump in place and NCommander cranking it faster than I would've thought possible, the water level near the breach quickly dropped, and it was a relatively simple matter to plug the gap. This was the first of many challenges that we would face in my first year at Bloodyhells, and, as was often the case, overcoming it came at a great cost. The lowest levels of the fortress, situated just above the vast seas of magma that form the bedrock of the world, were completely flooded, and without them, there was no means of making new tools. For the better part of a day, the survivors of Nashonshash debated the best strategy to drain the forges, a conversation that I was, at best, on the periphery of. After several hours of pouring over the maps of the fortress while the others retraced the same arguments for what must have been the tenth time, inspiration struck; not far from the former tavern we had taken up as a temporary home, there was a pillar of stone that passed through all three cavern layers uninterrupted. So I suggested that, with our limited manpower, instead of spending years draining the water from the stairwell into the deep, we simply excavate a new one, something NCommander asserted could be done within the month. He turned out to be exaggerating, but only slightly; by the end of the first week of Felsite, the initial shaft was complete.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)



     While we now had access to magma as a source of heat, one of the essential components of a forge, an anvil, was missing. According to Flame, there was at least one leftover in the fortress's main stockpiles, well beyond the part of the fortress considered secure. While it obviously been preferable to equip ourselves before venturing into the unknown, without a working forge that wouldn't be an option. After fashioning crude shields for ourselves out of wood, Flame and I departed on an expedition to the upper fortress to recover the missing anvil, while Spish, Zulgarkun, and NCommander left to begin digging out a new foundry area in the depths. While the obvious path towards the stockpiles would be to travel through the set of stone doors near the top the main staircase, the sound of something—or rather several somethings—scratching at the door persuaded us to take the long way around, down the tunnel to the west of the tavern. We walked for about an hour in virtual silence, passing through winding tunnels, down a series of hastily dug ramps and over a shallow chasm carved from the rock for reasons unknown and up a winding staircase. Most of this journey was made in complete darkness, and though elves can see well enough in the dark, it was very clear I was at a disadvantage compared to Flame. Finally, we came to a partially flooded storeroom. Debris was scattered all over the floor, and the water rose to Flame's knees and my calves, so the the process of searching the room was long, involved, and freezing cold. After more than half an hour and the third sweep through the room, we could take it no longer, and left the water, taking refuge in a damp, but comparatively warm stairwell on the western side of the room.


"I don't think it's here, unless its somewhere behind that hideous statue." I said, referring to an artfully made orthoclase statue depicting a visibly diseased dwarf, seemingly a leper, embracing a robed, skeletal figure, blocking the entrance to one of the stockpile's side rooms.

"Most pieces of Tarem are like that." said Flame. "What else would you expect from the dwarven god of death and disease?" she continued. "Oh, and also suicide." she added.

"I'm not sure why people would venerate such a being in the first place, certainly not people like Spish and Zuglarkun; they both seem to be reasonably well adjusted." I replied.

"There's two schools of thoughts regarding worship of Tarem; the first being that offerings and prayers to him help stave of death and disease, and helps ensure a good place in the next life. He doesn't like to talk about it, but Zuglar's lost pretty much everyone he cared about to this place. He came here with a wife, a baby boy, and his parents. He's the only one left at this point."

"Oh." was the only reply I could muster.

"Yeah, I'm getting a bit sick of this philosophical whatchamacallit it, so can we get on with the search?" She asked. I nodded, despite being rather curious about the other school of thought regarding worship of the dwarven death god. Fairly certain that the missing anvil was not behind the statue of Tarem, we proceeded up the stairwell, and found ourselves in what Flame identified as the main level of the fortress, specifically the livestock area.

"But where are the livestock?" I asked, though I already suspected the answer.

A sarcastic quipe from Flame was cut off by the soft clattering of light, webbed feet. Five nearly skeletal ducks clambered out of a small pond, seemingly roused by the sound of our conversation. While I initially thought very little of the threat the creatures posed, it proved extremely difficult for either of us to actually land a blow, something which was not true of our opponents, who left a score of bruises and minor gashes all over my body, and I came perilously close to collapsing from exhaustion, at which point the creatures would've been free to peck my eyes out. Still, our vastly superior strength triumphed in the end, and while several of the corpses stirred, without numbers on their side, they were easily dispatched. While I would've liked nothing more than to lie down and rest at that point, the odds were good that something far more menacing was prowling these halls, so we set to work searching for the anvil almost immediately. We found it half buried in mud and heavily rusted, not far from the stairwell. We dragged it part of the way back, through the flooded storeroom to avoid further rusting, and headed back to relay the good news.



Spoiler (click to show/hide)


     For the remainder of the month, I was hard at work carting ingots down to the forge area for future use. The others set to work excavating the beginnings of a living area, and eating area, some bedrooms, and a few extra rooms to be used for storage. The decision to move down to the lower levels was one motivated firstly by the exhausting walk down to the new forges, and secondly by a desire to be as far away from the surface as possible. So we dug, deeply and greedily, setting the stages for the start of a new chapter in the history of Nashonshash.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)


((note, it seems as if certain small undead body parts, ie heads are sometimes bugged in such a way that makes them invincible; if faced with such an enemy, I've found you can force dwarves to withdraw from a fight by switching to an alert which restricts them to a burrow they are not currently in, and deactivating the squad if they're a militia dwarf; that makes them run back to the burrow if possible. Use cage traps and drop them into lava to get rid of them for good, or alternatively use them for training.))
« Last Edit: June 11, 2016, 04:46:35 pm by Archereon »
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I want to tell you they were bad men, cephalo.  I want to tell you that with a better overseer the Fortress never would've gotten so bad someone would get offed in a pointless fisticuffs.
But the sad truth charlie?
It was inevitable.

TheFlame52

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Re: Bloodyhells - Succession: Battlefailed #5 (42.06)
« Reply #284 on: June 11, 2016, 04:53:58 pm »

You know where the water is coming from, right?
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