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[iampaul]

Too bad it couldn't last... or is someone out there still playing?

[Sizik]

Edit: whoops, wrong thread.

[PTTG??]

Come on, LIVE!!!
This is awesome!
I want to play is nessesairy!
LIVE!!! LIVE!!!

I sound like a necromancer. 

Just download the last available save and start playing if you want to res the game. I'll play after you.

[Zavvnao]

I would of played if I had known.

[Exa]

“That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.”
-H.P. Lovecraft, "The Nameless City"

This is by a considerable margin the most extreme necro I have ever engaged in, but given the circumstances I feel it is justified.

So, let's get going. The year is 122, the version is 0.28.181.40d, and I've finally found the correct version of Dwarf Therapist. I'll try and be a bit image-heavy to start, since all the pictures earlier in the thread appear to have suffered link rot, and so the structure of the fort isn't clear without viewing the save.


Here's the situation. We've got plenty of food, so at least that shouldn't be much of a problem, and the fortress appears to be fairly well defended.
First priority is... well, getting used to the fact that space exits menus rather than escape, really. But second priority is tracking the fortresses' operation for a while to find imbalances (too much food, not enough food, not generating enough clothing (does clothing even wear out in this version?)).
Also, figuring out the economy. Hopefully nothing breaks with that soon, because I have not the faintest idea how that works.
But just to have a concrete goal for the moment beyond "not breaking everything," I note that our best weaponsmith is only level two. I'll see what I can do about that.

I'm getting about 35 frames per second, which is better than many forts I've made, so that's okay at least.

And right away, the problems start


I'm being spammed with these messages, and from scrolling back in the log they appear to continue before I started my turn.
I can't zoom to position in this version, and while at first I thought I'd found the problem with a group of dwarves trapped in a stairway by drawbridges, it appears the bridges are in fact lowered and are just one tile long.



I guess they're just there to isolate the stairwell in case of emergency.
In fact, looking around there's lots of bridges to seal off sections of the fort if needed. Fitting, I suppose, for a fortress intended to last the ages.

At least a tantrum spiral doesn't appear to be in my immediate future.


I'll have to just live with cancellation spam for the moment, I suppose, as I can't find the problem.


12 days after the start of my turn, elven merchants have arrived! Now to try and figure out how trading works in this version, and if I need anything from them. And where the trade depot is, for that matter.


Six traders overall. I suppose the previous overseers must have been running a brisk trade to justify that many.
I've designated to be moved a whole bunch of crafts, on the basis that we probably don't need them (do crafts have any purpose other than trading? I'm not sure). If they have anything worth buying, we'll have plenty to trade.
Oh, and space isn't the key to escape menus. On at least one of them (the trade good moving menu), it's f9. What the heck?


Six goblins. A maceman, a pikeman, three wrestlers, and one whose occupation I can't see as it clips on the edge of the screen and pressing enter doesn't bring up more detail.

Now, how to send a squad to deal with it? We certainly have warriors that are up to the task.

Never mind, the weapon traps took care of the problem before I could figure it out. Four died and the last two are fleeing.

The elves want us to limit our treecutting to one hundred logs in the next year. I'm pretty sure that the fort has most of what it needs right now and I was not planning on any major building projects, so I suppose I'm alright with that for the moment. I'll certainly cut down a ridiculous number of trees and laugh at their elven tears once I am more settled, but right now I don't want to stir up trouble.

More goblins. I realize that I'm almost 700 words in and it's only granite 20th, so I'll be skimming over things to a greater extent from here on out. This is my first time taking a turn in a succession fort, so I am as yet unsure of how much detail to include.

Oh, right, I was trading with the elves. I attempted to trade them a bin of crafts for their booze, but there were a few wooden goods in it. Forgot about that. Ah well, I didn't really want to trade anyway.

I've added a job to the manager to start decorating things with bone. Goodness knows we've got enough of the stuff, and this will free up some stockpile space.


hopefully they'll make something neat

Migrants! Five of them! Welp, I don't actually have anything in particular for you to do, so get on hanging around the meeting areas I guess.

Kulet's started their mysterious construction, no failed moods today.


not only is it useless, it's practically worthless, at only 33k dorfbucks

I did figure out why nobody was actually harvesting the food, at least. Even though the standing orders were set to "dwarves all harvest," they were also set to "dwarves ignore food," which apparently overrides that.


And that's all for tonight. I should have more time the day after tomorrow.

The state of the fortress as of now:

[Imic]

I can respect this necro. Nice work.

[PTTG??]

Hoooly crap. I'm... going to definitely live up to my words. I'll play the next turn. I'd like to point out that if this thread were a person, it'd be in fourth grade by now.

[TankKit]

...This really is Eternal.

[Tack]

Been a while since I've dusted off the ol' 40d.
Sure, I'll jump on this necrowagon.

[Exa]

7th Hematite, 122
The Broker's clearly mad, or alternately gets a cut of all coins minted.

we don't even have close to enough metal to forge that number of coins, and even if we did I'm sure that there would be something better to do with it.
Especially given that everything seems to be working just fine with a small fraction of the number of coins the broker advises.

10th Hematite, 122


13th Hematite, 122
The humans brought a truly ridiculous number of wagons.
I bought all their meat, booze, and cheese, not because we are short of food but rather to add some variety to our dwarves' fare.
In exchange, I traded them some of our crafts, of which we seem to have an incredible amount.

15th Hematite, 122

Hmm. I still don't know how to order everyone inside, send out the military, or raise the bridges.

Bridges first, since the levers are generally well-marked.

This one is marked "front gate lever," so let's give it a try.
Ah, nevermind, there's no actual lever there, just a note. Perhaps it was removed at some point.


Perhaps this one, which is marked "Raises and lowers drawbridge"
Yep, that was it. A peasant is stuck outside, but I don't especially care.
I might as well take this opportunity to try and figure out the military anyway, I suppose.

Hmm. the goblins are still moving purposefully, there may be another entrance.
Alright, actually quite a few dorfs were outside, Or there's another entrance.


found it. Alright, how do I military?
X to select nearby squads, s to station them at a specific location.

THERE'S A THIRD ENTRANCE


Our champions are actually really effective. I didn't get screenshots, but they launched a couple of goblins so hard they flew 20+ tiles before slamming into a wall and dying.

I'm just sending them around mopping up the last few goblins now.

21st Hematite, 122
Siege broken.

We only lost 8 dorfs, all civilians. That wasn't that bad, considering my total unpreparedness.
Apparently our losses included the broker, though. I'll have to find a new one.
Aw man, our previous broker, "dadam," was a legendary+5 appraiser, and also legendary in a lot of other skills. The only remaining dorf with any skill at appraisal whatsoever is only skilled.

28th Hematite, 122

Come on, only eight dwarves died.

Our only legendary armorsmith, "Kishmond" is miserable. Hopefully they cheer up before going insane, our next-best armorsmith is level 2. I'm noticing a distinct problem with over-concentration of skills in this fortress.
This is why you train more than one dorf in each important skill, guys.

17th Malachite, 122
I've constructed a cage in the dining room right off the main stairway, and ordered all the stray non-grazing animals to it to see if that improves FPS.


I've also assigned a new manager, since apparently they also died in the goblin attack, and am constructing an office for them as I can't find the old one.



Also, I set both of the craftsdwarves' workshops I know of to decorate with bone on repeat. We have entirely too many bones lying around the place.

1st limestone, 122
autumn has come. Halfway done with the year.
Also, we're totally out of wood. I've ordered the surface clear-cut.

9th limestone, 122

Some kid made this harp. It's worth 661200 dorfbux, which is at least better than the last artifact. Still just as useless, though.

10th limestone, 122
Oh right, I wasn't supposed to be cutting down too many trees, was I. Well, I've got enough wood already for some animal traps to stop the job cancellation spam (or at least one source of said spam), and that's all I really needed it for right now.

16th limestone, 122
Hmm. It appears that the bonecrafters are just decorating all the ballista bolts. Well, I was doing this decorating more to use up bone than anything else, so it isn't really a problem that all it is generating is fancy ammo.

23rd sandstone, 122


I've built a small enclosure around the surface entrance so that the doors can be forbidden in case of invasion. I also closed and forbade the third entrance that opened onto the surface food stockpile.

6th timber, 122

Better than last time, I suppose, though I'm still not sure I like their tone.
5 migrants in all.

1st moonstone, 122

And that's all for tonight. I got through two seasons this time, which is at least better than last time.

State of the fortress:


Oh, and if anyone would like to be dorfed, just ask. There might be an existing list of dorfing requests but I'm certainly not going through the thread to find it.

[Imic]

I like it! Too bad about the dead though.

20+? Coooooool.

[Exa]

3rd Moonstone, 122
I think my goal for the last season of this year is to try and shut off all the flowing water and magma, in the hopes of passing a better FPS onto the next bloke.

First item on the troubleshooting checklist: hunt around for any likely-looking levers

9th Moonstone, 122
My search being fruitless, I've decided to build some new levers and use them to shut off mechanisms essentially at random until stuff stops moving


levers disable appropriately marked gear assemblies. I've also left notes, though I don't know how helpful they'll be.

17th Moonstone, 122
disabling those mechanisms has brought my framerate up from "hovering noncommittally around 35 with spikes to 40" to "hovering noncommittally around 40 with spikes to 50" which is at least something I suppose.

22nd Opal, 122
Noticing that, against all odds, we were actually starting to run out of bone, I have disabled the decorate with bone task on all but two workshops and turned the labor off on all but the three most skilled, so as to get the most value out of what remains remain.

5th Obsidian, 122
I have run out of decorateable-with bone, and have thus started making skull totems.

1st Granite, 123



State Of The Fortress:


save: http://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=12714

Turn List:
Turn n: Exa (completed)
Turn n+1: PTTG?? (PM'd)
Turn n+2: Tack
Turn n+3: Imic

Since there's actually, however briefly, more than one player on the waiting list, I'd suggest some sort of time limit. Does "have started playing within 14 days of end of last turn and finished playing within 28 days, or else it goes to the next person" sound reasonable?

[PTTG??]

Thanks. I'll start shortly.

[Imic]

Can I have a turn?

[PTTG??]

Running footsteps echo down empty concrete corridors. Fragments of the scored walls skitter underfoot. Up a rusted metal catwalk that rings for perhaps the first time in centuries. The footsteps pause, and for a moment only ragged breaths could be heard in this dead place. From the surface, a black screech tears the air, and the runner wipes blood from a grease-stained chin. Grimacing in pain, the runner staggers down the catwalk.

Through decaying corridors laced with steel veins, corroded cameras too deep in this unlit underworld to attract looters; even those desperate to escape the scythe-swarms don't come down this deep.

The runner is more desperate still.

The raiders had taken the runner's pack days before, up in the trackless wastes of the Yellowstone Desert. All the runner had saved was the unassuming black plastic device that contained the secret of an enduring civilization, tucked in a cheek. That the raiders were certainly dead -- if they were lucky -- was of small comfort to the runner. Without the water filter, thirst would be even more deadly than radiation poisoning, and perhaps the only thing more certain than his pursuers.

Now the final piece, the machine to unlock the power of the device. Deep in this vault, there would be everything needed. It was not a belief; the runner knew that salvation lie here only because the alternative -- that so many had died to recover the device and yet the Earth and the human race was doomed to silence and extinction for the rest of time -- was too terrible to contemplate.

The ancient catwalk gave way and the runner fell with the twisting metal into subterranean darkness. The vast space reverberated with the roar of tumbling metal.

The runner awoke and immediately knew that the walking was no longer an option. Luckily, the amount of blood from the wounded leg suggested that the blackout was brief. A bloody hand reached up, and the runner levered gingerly from the crumpled remains of the catwalk and the crushed... could it be... a vintage autocar? The glowstick was now trapped under the rubble, but perhaps there was something left here. Noone had been here since the fall, surely. Though the door was locked, the window was smashed open, and the runner had heard stories about this... Reaching in, the runner prised up the button and heard a satisfying clunk, pulled the handle, and cringed back as lights flashed and the klaxon screeched. As if in response, a guttural roar shook the corridor, its source now clearly within the ashen tomb itself and drawing ever closer. And yet! There, illuminated by the orange glow and tucked in the footwell, yes, a flashlight from the old time. The runner took it and prayed to whatever gods still lived that the batteries would work.

Perhaps something heard, for white light burst from the torch and illuminated the vast space, revealing not one, but hundreds of autocars in unimaginable perfusion. How rich had mankind once been? The runner did not have time to contemplate this question. Only enough to bandage the wound with a ragged shirtsleeve and sweep the walls for an exit that would lead deeper, to the Center.

Hobbled by a crippled leg, dehydrated, sunburned and permeated by fallout, the runner staggered now down stairs untouched since the calamity. Only minutes ago the runner had heard something destroying the cars back in the parking garage, and this blood trail would soon lead them down this staircase. Finally, the flashlight's beam fell upon a simple sign, most of it so thickly covered in ash that it was illegible, but, with a bloodstained, oil-blackened hand, the runner wiped away a patch, revealing one word: "Center."

The door was locked.

The runner actually managed to chuckle at this. Weakened by hunger and injury, the runner breathed deep. Twenty flights above, the door burst off its hinges, fallen to inhuman strength.

A fire extinguisher rested on the wall. The runner picked it up. It had good heft.

From above, the pursuers plunged headlong down the staircase. Many fell and were soon trampled into gore by the mob.

The runner looked at the door. A single, narrow vertical window of some kind of reinforced glass was centered in the door.

The flow of bodies down the staircase surged. The screeching was unbearable.

Crack! Crack!

SMASH!

Flailing on the far side of the door, scrabbling, the runner's hand found the handle, turned, the latch caught, and the door opened.

They were only two stories away now; several were already hurling themselves from the railings to descend faster.

The runner lunged through the door, landed immediately into a vast, unlit chamber. This place had been forgotten long ago, perhaps even before the fall. Some way to block the door, some way to slow the pursuit! Already they were almost at the door, and the hulking machines lit in frantic, swinging flashlight beam were too large to move -- and then the runner's eye fell on a button hidden beneath a table. No time for thought, only instinct. The runner kicked over and slammed the button and hoped for a miracle.

Ancient systems, long dormant, finally swung into action. Hydraulic pipes burst from strain, but backups worked, at least long enough to slam shut the door, shearing off six-fingered hands as they grasped at the runner's bloodstained legs. Steel rods twenty feet long slammed home, reinforcing the door. Finally, a fire-door fell with somber finality, two inches of metal plate designed to withstand any mundane temperature. Klaxons roared and red light illuminated the room. The runner lay on the ground, and did not move for some time.

The klaxons shortly died; only a little power remained in the ancient batteries. The howling and pounding on the door continued for a time, but only it was only when it abruptly ceased that the runner stirred.

It was not like them to give up. The runner did not know why they had stopped, but with injury, no food, no water, there was very little time to complete the mission regardless.

It took some time, but the runner at least knew this part. The small black device was barely the size of a cracked and bruised thumbnail, and yet such hopes it yet contained. In the middle of the room -- the core of the Center -- the runner assembled the machine. The black device slid home. This part would be difficult. Much of the runner's life had been spent studying the techniques involved in this from yellowed texts and from the half-forgotten memories of those who had once worked on similar machines. But finally, the great machine whirred, a tiny red light glowed in the small black device, and the stored memories came to life.

And, in the silent center, music twanged the air, and a tinny chorus of voices sang out -- "Beyond... Quality!"

As the file loaded, the runner began to type.

I don't know who's going to read this, but as I understand it, this is part of the whole thing. I don't intend to break this part of the tradition. So, let's see...

I wonder who Sizik was. Surely a powerful being. This tomb is quite colorful.

This fortress is bewildering. I'll have to tread carefully to avoid breaking anything. I can't help but notice that we have lots of adamantine. The legends told me to make careful use of it.

I get the feeling that we should avoid tempting fate with an open set of eery pits. I'll try to wall them off from the main portion of the fortress.

Nothing will hold them back forever, but maybe I can slow them.


Lots of complaints about dwarves unable to reach their owned items. Oh, and I've found that the captain of the guard needs a better office. Shouldn't be too hard. Took me a second to find it, but looks like i might be able to refine it with some engravings.

The tomb of Aqizzar is truly magnificent. I wonder; that's not a normal dwarven name. I heard the ancient ones named dwarves after respected individuals. What glorious deity was this Aqizzar?

The engravings are complete, and the captain of the guard is happy.

Back from a quick break. Had to amputate my leg, it turns out that one howler had some kind of poison or something on his hand. The good news is I found a vending machine. First time I've seen one untouched. The water tastes weird. Like, not like oil or anything. Anyway, discovered a huge labyrinth in the fortress with a coin stockpile at one end. I don't think I could navigate it myself but it's cool nonetheless. There's a bit of old scaffolding on one side, I'll make sure that gets cleaned up.

'Taco Dan' has created a masterpiece! It appears to be a skull of a goblin carved into a totem! Reminds me of home, but of course we we just decorating human skulls we found in the purging fields.

Oh, the gates are closed. No wonder people have been complaining about not being able to reach stuff. I kind of want to open up and let the traders in, but on the other hand that doesn't sound very wise for the time being.

Decided to open the gates for a while and see how it goes. Now I just need to find he right lever.

Still searching for the right lever, but just got a contact from the Elves, they want to limit our treecutting. I'm just trying to remember the last time I saw an actual live tree. I'll grant the request, I guess. We appear to have enough wood in the stockpile.



I think I understand. These named dwarves are named after the players. Well, I guess I'll find one for myself. I'll promote her into a soldier; we only have two squads, although from the number of goblin bones around the place it seems they're pretty competent.

I'll be back to continue this in a bit. The howlers started... singing? I've never heard of that happening. Maybe I can find a way to reinforce the door.