On a recent embark in an evil forest (not haunted, evil. Werewolves, phantom spiders, and lots of goblins) I decided for once to have my woodcutter actually start out with some miltary experiance (axe skill, wrestling) and some armor.
Things go well for the first few seasons. Early in the first spring the woodcutter eliminated a lone werewolf without injury, so when in midsummer I get attacked a second time I don't think twice about activating him and sending him to remove a second one.
The damn thing broke his right hand.
The story does not end there, however, oh no. A few more months pass while the other six wait for the woodcutter to recover. Everyone enjoys helping others and I got a well with many spare buckets set up early in the aquifer while my miner is eating up my time with warm/damp stone warnings.
Things go fine untill just after the dwarven caravan comes past. The woodcutter hadn't quite recovered yet, so he was still resting in his bed when the cries of warnings from the cook came in as she ran down the long entranceway. Instead he was sleeping away.
Now, about my fort in that first year. I hadn't made any real bedrooms or a barracks yet. Indeed, my beds were lining the entranceway while the miner set up the workshop area. So, spotting my unconsious woodcutter in his bed, the werewolf decides to have the unmoving dwarf for dinner, over the much faster prey.
Quickly I assemble the fortress, drafting everyone and setting them to defend their unconsious friend. The cook, being closest, quickly begins wrestling the beast away, giving the sleeping woodcutter a few precious seconds before his chest was ripped open by savage claws. By this time, half of my fortress is only seconds away, their calls beating through the hallways as the now named werewolf turns to finish my poor woodcutter.
*CRUNCH*, the first thing I notice in the next combat frame, to my shock and horrer, is that my woodcutter's right leg was mangled in two places. *SNAP!* as my miner/leader and the rest of the crew show up, most of them recoil in horror as the woodcutters left leg flies off in a bloody arc, gore splattering their faces as they watch the helpless wounded axeman scream in his sleep.
With a shout and a yell the five remaining dwarves rally and charge, bodily hauling the werewolf down and ripping it limb from limb. A few bare seconds later the fight is over, and I am forced to deal with the results.
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So yeah, don't build your beds in the entranceway of your fort. Effectivly I've lost two dwarves from that one werewolf, one to death, and another permanently disabled in my barracks. He's became the first dwarf in my fortress with a nickname "Gimpy", as well as starting a new trend of nicknaming any dwarves who end up requiring extended bed rest. (including Halfhand Bolttarget(had his hand broken by a fire imp, and managed to get himself shot in the leg by a goblin in an ambush less than half a year later) and Boltgut (A migrant furnace operator who somehow managed to survive over seven crossbow shots at him, three of which hit and gave him a mangled body, broken spleen, a broken upper right leg, and a mangled lower right leg. )