Done. Wow, I think this is the most retardedly I have ever played a fortress, and when I say that, I mean unintentionally. I finally got my ass in gear after a month or two. Epic (but slightly bland) story in spoiler.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Spring 1001~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the journal of Jessica, Fearless Leader
1st Granite:
After months of travel, we have finally arrived on site. Rakasetar Okbod Geshud, "Strangerkigns the Doom of Fortresses" shall be our new home from now on. Now that I think about that, that's the dumbest name I've ever heard of. Did I really pick that name?
Anyway, I still remember the day the king sent us off on our journey. He said something about us "Not being fit to society" and "Being a danger and a nuisance to all we interact with" and "Not practicing regular hygiene." BUT I'LL SHOW HIM! I, Jessica Rosypaddled, will construct the single greatest architectural masterpiece of all. . . what? What do you mean there's nothing but water 2 stories down? Fuck! Well, dig around it, then. Anyway, to work with the designs. Everything must be, the best!
14th Granite:
After 2 weeks of exploratory mining operations, our overly enthusiastic miner finally found a dry spot to continue digging. After an hour or so, she noticed that this was because that area is filled with magma, and proceeded to stop digging before she was waist deep in her own molten flesh. I've devised a plan to build around the power source, because digging anywhere else means a good chance of flooding the fortress. Damn. I have never seen so much water in one place. We might as well have built our fortress in the ocean. It is but one setback. That king will get his soon.
18th Granite: The workers are starting to get antsy. All we've had to do in the last few weeks is sit around and watch the cats kill the occasional demon rat. I think cabin fever is getting to most of us. I was speaking with Udib the Ranger today, and out of the blue she said "I am Udib no more! From now on, I am Xognan, slayer of all things furry!" and immediately ran outside and started killing the local fauna. I thought about stopping her, but hell, it looked kinda fun, so I joined in too. About an hour later, I had done nothing but tire myself out, but Xognan came to me with a slight spattering of blood on her clothes. "I assume you got something?"
"Yep"
"Care to share with the rest of us?"
"You'll find out soon enough"
And with that, she skipped off merrily to the butcher shop.
22nd Slate:
Oh sweet merciful christ! She killed a cat! Why in the hell would you kill a cat?! Ugh! And why are there flies and snakes all over every inch of this goddamn fortress?! Oh what the hell? There's a hole in the ceiling? Who dug a random-ass hole in the ceiling? Okay, dumb question. Why would you dig a hole in the ceiling? At least it's venting the smell of. . . rotting cat. God, that's going to give me nightmares.
26th Felsite:
Construction grinds to a halt after our Iden, our miner/mason gets the living shit beaten out of her by a rogue fire imp, breaking her arm and brusing other areas.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Summer 1001~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2nd Hematite:
I encountered Iden in the mason's shop today.
"What are you doing here?"
"Making chairs, obviously"
"Didn't you break your arm a few days ago?
"Did I? I guess in the hustle and bustle of working, it must have fixed itself"
"That's not possible."
"Apparently it is."
"That doesn't even make--"
*from downstairs* "OH GOD WHY DOES IT BURN SO?!"
I ran downstairs to see Pablo, our resident artiste, being torn into by yet another fire imp. It was quickly struck down by Xognan, who proceeded to drag it to the butcher shop. I tried to warn her about how it's going to explode into a storm of burning fat, but she said that was an old wives' tale, and I decided to run downstairs for a while. I don't think her beard will look the same again.
5th Hematite:
Xognan decides to butcher yet another fire imp. She says she cut it wrong last time. She also cut it wrong this time. The smell of charred hair and molten fat still sticks in my nostrils.
12th Hematite:
Kogsak, our farmer, was killed by yet another rampaging fire imp. We held his funeral today, and hope that there are considerably fewer fire imps where he's headed. We marked his grave with a statue of him holding a pitchfork. It would have been something better, but none of us really knew the guy that well.
23rd Malachite:
Iden told me today that she's having a lot of trouble multitasking mining and masonry, and that she could do with some help. As soon as Xognan heard, she grabbed a pick, claiming that she was "Xognan, cutter of stone!" and started tearing the stone apart. And then she fell asleep on the floor five minutes later.
2nd Galena:
We've struck hornblende! Fuck if I know what that means, but we stuck it!
5th Galena:
Food stocks are running low, so I assigned Pablo to the farms. He's surprisingly good at it, especially being a craftsman and everything. He says his father was a farmer, but he knew that the fashion industry was his way to go. Irony strikes now.
3 dogs have been struck down by a mysterious force. I send out Paul to deal with the situation, and 30 mintues later he comes back downstairs, bruised and bloodied saying that he met up with some sort of grimyling. He slashed off its arm and smacked it back 10 feet, but the motherfucker just kept coming until he had rent it in twain. He's now resting in his bed with multiple broken limbs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Autumn 1001~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Merchant caravans arrived today, and it was only after the trade liason said it was really hard to get here that I realized that we never built a trade depot, or any bins to hold trade goods.
14th Sandstone:
Finally, we have the components to build a well, which is good because we have long since run out of booze. Sobriety sucks.
(The journals from this point are scattered and undated)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Winter 1001~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I finally decided that we should make use of all that magma we've been sitting on and build a smelter and forge (especially now that we've struck hematite). No one has the skills, but when asked, Xognan said yes, shouting "I am Xognan, shaper of metals!"
Paul is resting his injuries well, and should be fit enough to work by spring. No migrants have arrived yet. I'm assuming this is because of our reputation in the rest of the country, and any we get will probably be just as "unfit to live with civilization" as the rest of us.
I felt sorry for Paul, and so I started carving pictures into his room to cheer him up. I decided to remember the good times and make some pictures of us travelling here and me being the best expedition leader ever. Then I heard there was booze, ran upstairs, had a few drinks, and the next thing I remember, I was in my own room. I went back to Paul's room to finish engraving and noticed that I had already carved the pictures on the walls and floors. Pictures of burning dwarves, snakes, and tentacle demons. . . all with my signature. After viewing this, I slowly stepped out of the room.
Today I removed the bed from one of the spare rooms and made it my office. I plan to eventually engrave a "Hang in there baby" poster above my desk. I just hope it doesn't turn out like Paul's room again. Jesus, I have a hard time walking in there to bring him water, let alone live in there. He doesn't seem to care too much about the pictures, though. He says it's a grand bedroom. I think that's just him being sweet, but I'm not quite sure.
I have commissioned statues of each dwarf to be placed in his or her respective room, so that they may always remember what they look like, to themselves.