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Text and images. Old school is better.

23 (82.1%)

Live stream and video. Newfangled technology must be applied to everything!

5 (17.9%)

Total Members Voted: 28

Voting closed: January 19, 2012, 06:50:05 pm

[Dariush]

Isn't that why crossbows are for?

No crossbows, no crossbowdwarves, no archery targets. Going through the whole process just to get rid of one quadripedal piece of shit seems just too much hassle.

[Dariush]

Teaser time!



***


Okay, who the FUCK thought that building this plot riiiight there was a good idea?! Actually, I know it's you, Aussie. You deserved death, mwaha.

***


That bro got in hospital for having a broken toe. He became starving and dehydrated, then picked his sorry ass off the bed and OHK'd Ieb.

That's the entire fight log. Seriously.

***

For the second time in two months our entire fortress is deadlocked due to a berserk.

This time the entire population of the fortress is huddled there. The berserk is unconcious and separated from the rest by a pit, but nobody seems to care. Oh, and there's a siege going. Fucking clusterfuck.

***

All soldiers watch demonstrations, but nobody spars. What do I do?

[Gizogin]

What.

[Spish]

I always knew those drawbridges were out to get me. At least Gloopy lived up to his name (after being squished into a fine paste, that is)

[Teneb]

Finally has this fortress achieved a respectable ammount of Fun Fail. Good Job.

[MagmaMcFry]

Also, pictures!

[rridgway]

The rest I can live with, but that farm? Tut tut...

[MagmaMcFry]

Tut tut.

Imagine a dwarf. Stained in blood and vomit. And more blood. Wiping his battleaxe on the sock of a dead dwarf. Turning around to you. His eyes bulging. His breath smelling. His nose dripping. He opens his mouth. And with a voice soaked in loathing and despise, he throws at you the following two words:

Tut tut.

[arcangelsd]

Tut tut.

Imagine a dwarf. Stained in blood and vomit. And more blood. Wiping his battleaxe on the sock of a dead dwarf. Turning around to you. His eyes bulging. His breath smelling. His nose dripping. He opens his mouth. And with a voice soaked in loathing and despise, he throws at you the following two words:

Tut tut.

honk HONK

I could not help myself with that one. Sorry.

[Eric Blank]

If you're still wondering, the lever to the front door bridge was in the control room with all the other levers, on the south side.

That being said; good job sending the fort to hell in less than 6 months. I'm proud of you for failing to read my overseer's notes

Or did I ever post them? I don't remember...

[Gizogin]

Wow.  I'm glad I didn;t live to see this day.

What do you mean, the entire population?  There were like 30 dwarves or something at the end of my turn!  What did you do?

[Eric Blank]

Increase the population to 60-something...? And promptly kill off 40 or so in a tantum spiral all because Urist just HAD to build a wall from the panic room side. The question is how he managed to die of thirst with all that food and booze in there with him... Oh, right. I forbid it all to get everyone out of there to seal it He could have survived to die of old age. Damn.


Also, for use of the magma; If you can pump it up another two levels and have it behind a series of retracting bridges over the longer trap hallway before the depot, you could easily flood the area below those traps with water (for which most of the necessary apparatus were already set up be the end of my turn) and then drop the magma on top to obsidianize it/flood the hall with magma. You'd just need a separate mechanism to drain it. Qucik, simple, and most importantly guaranteed to fail because you forgot to use magma-safe stone/mechanisms on just one of the bridges and left the pumps running for another month, dooming the fortress.

The good news is that drilling more holes through the aquifer should be simple now that we have magma to obsidianize it.

[Ieb]

I died as I lived.

In the wrong place, at the wrong time.

[Teneb]

I died as I lived.

In the wrong place, at the wrong time.

I am sigging this.

[CatalystParadox]

Tut tut.

Imagine a dwarf. Stained in blood and vomit. And more blood. Wiping his battleaxe on the sock of a dead dwarf. Turning around to you. His eyes bulging. His breath smelling. His nose dripping. He opens his mouth. And with a voice soaked in loathing and despise, he throws at you the following two words:

Tut tut.

And I am sigging that.  Finally, I have a real sig.