!
The philosopher sat back in the golden chair, rocking back and forth while blowing bubbles on his pipe.
"I believe we are in an alternate reality..." he kept muttering to himself. The other dwarves bustled back and forth, ignoring him... except for the Captain of the Guard. He had a crossbow at the ready.
The game crashed beginning of summer, right after I took the last screenshot. My last save was mid spring, as a result, some if this will have changed. It is too late for me to play though it again.INCOMPETENCE, FAILURE, I WILL NOT STAND FOR SUCH BULLSHIT.
I have taken over as first Captain of the Guard, a job that has remained vacant since the beginning of this hole-in-the-ground because the no-beards that previously in charge were afraid of JUSTICE. I was promoted out of the ranks of those sparring with no armor, the best of the best, that which survived and thrived.
First change to the fort under my command after I witnessed the full shittiness of it all, the entire military was revamped. No enemies ever sighted besides wildlife? I DON'T CARE. Armor and shields were assigned to the beards under my command. New squads were formed, and weapons assigned. For some reason one idiot was sparring with a spear, as if he wanted to gore his partners. I quickly fixed this by threatening to promote him to baron's bodyguard once the inevitable nobility shits decide to come to this future model fortress. BUT FIRST!
NO PARTIES MAGGOTS! I have razed the meeting halls and sculpture gardens to the ground! There will be no socializing outside my supervision in the new meeting hall! The only unsanctioned meeting of beards better involve the procreation of new babies for my Guard-dwarves, or by my grandmother's beard I will throw you into the magma with the kittens!
Speaking of kittens, time passes slowly in a boring manner. I know we can liven things up around here by getting rid of the stock.
Unfortunately there are many which already have owners and thus could not be butchered. They are expendable - Now was I referring to the pets or owners? You don't know! HAHAHAHAHA.
I have spoken to this dwarf
therapist and streamlined our entire industry. You commie bastards and capitalist pigs are all reassigned! Got it? Any problems and we'll feed you to the fishes!
Our metal works was the size of a elve's beard! Simply nonexistant. I have added 10 magma forges and a dozen or more smelters to bring us up to speed.
Appears a crazy old-beard has taken over one of the forges. He better make something good or he will be smacked into the magma. How convenient...
Not bad old beard, but by Armok's overtly conflagrant anus, what the fuck is a Hill of Touching? Nevermind, I only want you to tell me if someone gets a fell mood, so I can show you where the dissidents sleep.
Oh great. A beard with a brain... gentledwarves, we have a real thinker here, the Philosopher has arrived! At least the dungeon master does proper dwarf metal work while wearing nothing but capes and eyeing the children. I rather have him muttering crazily about taming dragons with that bloodshot look in his eye than a beard that asks why to everything while he smokes a bubble pipe. Why can't I strangle him with my beard? Will someone answer me that?
And what do you mean the alcohol is low? Fix it or I will shoot you in places you didn't know could be shot! Or worse, you will drink water, in the trade depot, while swimming with the elves! No elves? No problem! We'll dress you up like an elf! Enjoy your dwarf hell maggots! Kael's here!
Ahh, summertime! The sweet smell of peasant flesh burning in the sunlight...
Kaelnote: More to come. I need to figure out my backup situation with the save... need to redo half the season.