Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

Hook up FAILCANNON to magma sea (powered by a huge dwarven reactor).

11 (28.2%)

Build a castle over the fortress entrance.

11 (28.2%)

Flush all the grime from Battlefailed with carefully arranged sewage system.

7 (17.9%)

Construct opulent quarters for every dwarf in Battlefailed.

3 (7.7%)

Get rid of every Forgotten Beast using huge cave-in traps

7 (17.9%)

Total Members Voted: 39

Voting closed: July 31, 2010, 02:35:48 pm

[Andreus]

4th Granite, 502

Having successfully recorporialised, I must turn my attention to the construction of a sanctum suitable for my research. A deep vein of magnetite sits just beneath the lowest level of the fortress - the natural magnetism of the rocks will shield me from detection



19th Slate, 502

Migrants have apparently arrived. I care little for these nobodies except in that they may assist with the speedy construction of my sanctum, which is progressing... acceptably. The space has been excavated according to my specifications and the stoneworkers have begun their work on the walls and the decor. The furniture is being sorted, and soon I shall order the statues built from the excavated magnetite.



20th Slate, 502

Incompetent and worthless blunderers! No sooner had I placed the orders for the smelting of the magnetite than I am informed by one of the stinking peons that occupies this godsforsaken hole that our supplies of alcohol are critically low.



So, being possessed of vast intelligence and foresight, I did what any sensible sorcerer would do in this situation.



I slacked off and let some other berk take care of it.

5th Felsite, 502



Today I was accosted by a most peculiar dwarf by the name of Samzul. He seemed unable to concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds. This is exceptionally irritating as the fool's meant to be sorting out barrels to fix our alcohol issues and cages for my project. I swear that ever since my fourth corporealisation I've been surrounded by bad luck and imbeciles.

8th Felsite, 502

Curses! A skeletal buzzard has penetrated the fort's defences, and-



Hold on, is that thing being taken down by a donkey?



Goddamn.

[Oglokoog]

Nice update. Buzzards are weak, probably even when skeleton'd. This donkey, on the other hand, is a bad ass.

EDIT: (I think this is the first pun I ever made. I feel nauseated.)

[Andreus]

19th Felsite, 502



Elves have arrived. Finally, some worthwhile company.

25th Felsite, 502

Trading with the elves has provided us with sufficient wood, alcohol and food to keep us going, at least until the summer. This is good, because I have no desire to micromanage these idiots while I recuperate from injuries recently sustained in my research.

(By the way, I've noticed that we have no broker noble, nor is it possible to assign one. What do I do about that?)

[Urist Imiknorris]

Go with the flow. No nobles becuase the guy in charge is dead? Deal with it. Your dwarves are.

[Andreus]

28th Hematite, 502

Yet another wagon in the parade of constant interruptions! A herd of zombie muskox have been sighted near the fortress. I have dispatched the militia squad, the Pointy Torches, consisting of miner Krimson and carpenter Samzul and a to take care of them - hopefully they will not fail me as pitifully as the previous commander, who lies dying on the floor of Battlefailed's entryway.

1st Malachite, 502



A presence stirs the stale air of this fortress - these fools are oblivious to it, yet I can feel it - from whence did it come, and what does it want? It has ensconced itself in the weak mind of one of the dwarves. I shall have to monitor this situation carefully.





2nd Malachite, 502

Well, fuck.



I feel it likely that Krimson is equally doomed. I have ordered all dwarves to take refuge inside the fortress and the doors to be sealed. We shall consider our next move... carefully.

6th Malachite, 502



Some good news for a change. The presence that claimed one of the dwarves seemed to be a relatively benign spirit of creativity. Such beings occasionally take hold of the minds of suitably weak-willed individuals and inspire them to create grand works of art - such is their nature. While not the most impressive creation the world has ever seen, this window is certainly pretty.



I shall have it placed in my study without delay.

7th Malachite, 502

Well fuck me sideways.





Not only is Krimson not dead, not only did he slay an entire herd of zombie muskox, but he came banging on the gates of the fortress demanding that we let him in because he's bringing a wave of migrants in tow. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps the dwarves of this fortress are not entirely worthless.

8th Malachite, 502

Through my attunement to the area, I sense that one of the fortress animals is feeling disquieted. I shall commune with-





$%&£$£$@!!!

[Matuin]

Destroys a herd of skeletal muskox, brings migrants to the fort, then dies in a bathtub?

[Zathel]

Destroys a herd of skeletal muskox, brings migrants to the fort, then dies in a bathtub?

I think the assorted undead hordes have something to do with it. Unfortunate dodge perhaps?

[Robocorn]

I just noticed that through the magic of storytelling, I've gotten you to dorf yourself as a crippled fish dissector.

Nice update, the fact that elves showed up is a good sign, it means that there may be an open market for +«*Elf Bone Scepter*»+s.

[Andreus]

1st Sandstone, 502



Why do people continue turning up at this godforsaken hole? This must be how the great doom-fortresses of legend like Boatmurdered and Sparkgear got started - dwarves coming to some godsforsaken pit out of sheer bloody-minded stupidity. I hope my research provides me with what I seek, or, in the absence of an immediate result, a body less... repulsive. I despise these creatures.

11th Sandstone, 502

This place has gone from bad to worse since the new migrants arrived. These filthy, drunken inbreds spend all of their time throwing celebrations and wasting the alcohol that was set aside on a strictly rationed basis to deal with the curious biological dependency which this depraved species possesses for it. The wounds I took recently have healed - perhaps I will not need to recorporealise again as soon as I had anticipated.

21st Timber, 502

Our immediate problems seem to be at an end. A dwarven caravan arrived and its guardians fought off the herd of undead horses that had been blighting our settlement, and they had many goods to trade with us. It would be excellent if we had an official broker, but needs must. I think things are finally looking-



ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

[Andreus]

Getting near the end of the year. I'll dorf anyone who's asked during this turn, and anyone on the turn list not already dorfed, but beyond that if I'm supposed to dorf other people I'll need a list of them.

[Urist Imiknorris]

Don't dorf me. I'll dorf me.

[Andreus]

16th Moonstone, 502



Alright. That does it.

I'm going to seal the fortress and pray for a quick death.







(Currently, all the dwarves that got stuck outside the fortress when the doors were sealed is dead, but there's one donkey still alive and a herd of skelks and zelks are helping the Titan chase it around. The Titan seems to be doing more damage to the skelks than than he is to the donkey. I kind of feel like the Benny Hill theme should be playing. What is it with this fortress and insanely badass donkeys?)



(At one point, my one remaining fighting-fit militiadwarf picked up the berserking child BY HIS TOE and threw him against a wall. Badfuckingass)



This picture is the true, undiluted essence of Dwarf Fortress. If you opened a dictionary and looked for Dwarf Fortress, you would not find any definition, just this image. Please, picture, if you will, this scene in your head - the militia commander Athel Sabrepunch, gem cutter by trade, wrestler and fighter by neccessity, stands locked in a desperate struggle with the child Cerol "Shamebirth" Handledbell, the small boy's eyes devoid of reason or compassion, burning with the unholy flame of a berserk fury. Spit and froth spew from his mouth as he screams incoherent fragments of obscenities into the face of his adversary in a dark, unwholesome language understood by none, not even himself. Though his opponent is twice his size, his rage gives him unnatural strength making him more than a match for the adult dwarf that stands between him and the desperately wounded invalids lying on the hospital beds not more than an armspan away. Athel knows that he must strike down this raging youngster, lest he kill not only him but the helpless convalescents as well. Seizing the moment, he bends into a crouch and seizes the child by his foot, and mustering all of his strength, tosses him shrieking against the wall. Before his opponent can react, he bullrushes him, setting his knee against the child's chest and, seizing him by the neck with both hands, squeezes with all his might. Cerol makes raspy choking sounds as the life slowly drains from his bruised and bloodstained body, his arms flailing helplessly, clawing at the dwarf above him. Tears stream from his eyes as the end approaches, and he stares helplessly up into the cold, emotionless eyes of Athel Sabrepunch, his soon-to-be-murderer and lets out a shriek of despair and terror that reaches no further than his bruised, spasming throat. "Shh, shhh, shhh" Athel coos softly, pressing down with his knee one more time. There is a dull gurgling sound, the child's eyes roll up into his head, and then there is silence, broken only by the groans of the wounded and the unearthly shrieks of the primeval monster laying waste to the land above.

And then, less than 12 frames later...



On reflection, I can't honestly say I'm surprised, really...

[Urist Imiknorris]

[Andreus]

1st Granite, 503

This entire expedition has been a disaster, right from its beginning. I have sealed myself in the sanctum and made preparations for my consciousness to leave this body, as I imagine will be neccessary in the very immediate future. I have instructed the remaining dwarves who have not succumbed to madness or despair that one of them must now lead the fortress. That was merely a formality - I doubt that anyone here has the intelligence to last through the next few months, let alone save this fortress.


Well, that was a wild ride, and it took a long time, but I had a blast. It was fun to watch everything go tits-up. Currently, there are 18 living dwarves, two of which, a woodworker and a child, are running around babbling. Most of the rest are either unhappy or miserable. I converted Urist the Blue's tomb into a makeshift catacomb for the rest of the dead dwarves. A tantruming dwarf destroyed the cage trap and the inner seal, so the only thing separating the fortress from the outside world is the outer seal. On the bright side, food and drink stocks seem to be fine, the skeletal elks departed after the donkey finally died and for some reason the forest titan is in the ocean, covered in red and yellow wounds, and I'm not sure if it can get out again. There's a couple of undead buzzards floating around but they shouldn't pose a problem for any remotely competent wrestler (of which we have exactly one, who got most of his wrestling experience from strangling Cerol). The entire map is covered in blood, corpses, and ash from the various fights that occured between dwarves, skelks and the forest titan.

Here's the save. Have fun!

[Robocorn]

[Slow clap that builds up to a raucous applause]
way to go Andreus, surely this will continue to add to the unadulterated epicnes that is Battlefailed. Just a question, what was the population when the titan showed up, I can't remember what the parameters for titan arrival was in worldgen 

I believe Urist needs no help in starting his turn.