I had started a surface fort on a desert island with magma but there was only ocean on one side. The embark promised wood but there was nothing so oh well, I did the best I could with my few logs. After a few seasons the booze levels were at zero and I didn't have any wood to "purify water" screw pumps. My seven founders were starting to drop like flies:
Two founders died of dehydration.
One went insane and jumped into the ocean after not having any cloth for his "artifact".
One died in the heat.
One went berserk to kill another.
And then there was one, who had to kill the berserking dwarf.
After watching two of friends die of dehydration, another of heat stroke, another due to insanity, and two more because of a murderous rage, the last one had to kill his only companion.
He was alone for many seasons fending for himself until the first brave souls began to migrate to the cursed island without proper supplies.
So with the aid of migrants, prosperity was brought back to the island. The city flourished and many projects were being constructed including a large fountain (which is a story in itself). All under the supervision of the last of the seven founders. During renovation of the fountain a child was crushed to death causing much sadness. One planter in particular was absolutely pissed. He was imprisoned and then broken out by some of his buddies. He started numerous fights, threw items across town, and tore apart roads. After pissing a lot of other people off (insert tantrum spiral), the city descended into chaos right in front of the eyes of the last founder. People literally jumped off of buildings to commit suicide. Nobles and fortress guards were dragged out of their quarters and beaten to death in the streets. The hammerer then decided to take matters into his own hands by going into a murderous rage and killing children (who were all having a party at the time). A few guardsmen also went crazy, but had the decency to shoot people around the corners in alleyways. Graveyards piled up and people were rotting in the streets.
I am not even kidding or exaggerating.
After all was said and done, there were 13 dwarves left. The last founder one of them. He had watched his friends killed by the elements, a city destroy itself from the inside, and now he has 10 dwarves resting in beds whom he cannot care for.
I'm building a shrine to this dwarf. Death may follow him, but he's the strongest of 'em all.