Author Topic: Dwarf Fortress Succession Fort—Angnomal, "Redstaff"  (Read 58482 times)

Iltaran

  • Noble Lord
  • ***
  • Posts: 257
  • What Gate?
    • View Profile
13th Slate, 1053, Etur "Iltaran" Kibokun, Acting Overseer and Presser

In my defence, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

You see, I'm a Presser, a noble but badly underappreciated profession. Anyone who's ever tasted the wonders of bumblebee mead will know what I'm talk about. Admittedly we dont have it as bad as soapmakers, but I digress. Anyway, not only am I a Presser in a fortress without some much as a single beehive or quarry bush crop, but there's three of us! When the higher ups started talking about starting a militia, it didn't take a genius to guess who was going to get handed a crossbow and sent out to face the hordes of darkness. So when the previous overseer dumped his records in the dining room and declared he was going to bed for the next year, I saw my chance. See, nobody asks many questions if you just shout loudly and look like you know what you're doing. I knew I could do the shouting bit and how hard could the rest of the job be? Besides, it'd keep me out of the militia.

I think Osram and Deler were laughing at me.

Evidently Indirik (my predecessor) had a thing for mazes, because I spent half a day trying to find my way around the new housing level. According to the notes, I have to finish furnishing the place, which is going to be fun. I think I'll borrow one of the ropes and tie it to something near the stairwell just in case. Half the fortress is currently employed dragging stone out of there and the miners are digging out a second, identical, level. At least it keeps everyone busy and not asking questions.

After I found myself out of there, I decided to get onto important things; starting a militia that didn't include me. Apparently Vucar Tathururvad knew a lot about fighting, always talking about Ballistas and things, so I appointed him Militia Commander and engaged in a highly scientific process of picking the best recruits; namely grabbing the ones who knew enough to duck in a drunken brawl. These brave souls were rounded out by the three least competent dwarves in the fortress. Power is fun! Only one problem; the names Commander Vucar picked out for the squads. His own squad are the Fenced Tightnesses, while the archers have been dubbed The Massive Mines. Not sure this sort of thing is appropriate for a family fortress...

On the subject of our defences, there seems to be a minor flaw in the walls. They've got more holes in them than the honeycomb I used to press. I keep finding holes and ordering them patched, but I'm a Presser, not a military engineer damnit.

Happily in the middle of Granite, our Weaponsmith, Onul, finally stopped talking to himself in the forge and came out proudly (but carefully) carrying the biggest, spikiest iron spike I've ever seen. He calls it Allasotsus and, well, see for yourself.

I told Onul to make a bunch of warhammers. Seemed wise not to encourage the spike-obsession. He started talking about ways to add spikes to warhammers. Staying away from the forge henceforth.

We just had a group of migrants arrive. On the bright side, several of them know the pointy end of a weapon from the end you hold. On the downside, they walked through another hole in the walls. Our supply situation is also looking rather worrying. Not to mention that we need to start making some steel armour for the militia.

Why did I take this job again?
[Solari] it's generally understood that OG survives by some compact with the devil

Askarn - Maedros - Savra - Faed - Vanimus

Indirik

  • Exalted Emperor
  • ******
  • Posts: 10849
  • No pressure, no diamonds.
    • View Profile
Oooh!!!  A menacing spike! That menaces... with spikes! That's double the spiky goodness. One of the most useful artifacts *ever*.
If at first you don't succeed, don't take up skydiving.

Iltaran

  • Noble Lord
  • ***
  • Posts: 257
  • What Gate?
    • View Profile
I've played the next bit of my update and made notes. Should have it up tomorrow

Anaris is NOT going to like it...
[Solari] it's generally understood that OG survives by some compact with the devil

Askarn - Maedros - Savra - Faed - Vanimus

DoctorHarte

  • Mighty Duke
  • ****
  • Posts: 593
  • Stoned on BattleMaster
    • View Profile
My bad for totally dropping out on the game, I'm still getting to know the game. No where near able to take on a kingdom like Redstaff and survive!
New Harte Family: Eros (Vix Tiramora, EC), Nyx (Fronen, BT), Chance (Avernus, DW), Scopuli (Gothica, Colonies)

Old Harte Family: Hyperion (Aurvandil, DW), William (IVF, BT), Katrina (Fronen, BT), Callandor II (Ohnar West, FE)

Indirik

  • Exalted Emperor
  • ******
  • Posts: 10849
  • No pressure, no diamonds.
    • View Profile
I'm still getting to know the game. No where near able to take on a kingdom like Redstaff and survive!

I feel like that every time I play the game....
If at first you don't succeed, don't take up skydiving.

Iltaran

  • Noble Lord
  • ***
  • Posts: 257
  • What Gate?
    • View Profile
7th Sandstone 1053, Etur "Iltaran" Kibokun, Acting Overseer and Presser

You know, I’m sure when my illustrious predecessors decided to build this outside fortification, it seemed like an easy solution. A safe place to put the cows and alpacas and whatever other four legged furry beasts immigrants seem obsessed with. A supply of (shudder) water and lumber. Unfortunately the genius in question seems to have forgotten that it’s a bloody nightmare to build walls on the slopes of a volcano. Seems every time I turn around we find another way in and I have to send the Masons off to tinker with something.

Just to make my life even more interesting, our food and drink stocks were starting to dwindle. I soon discovered why. Despite our two biggest farms being devoted to Whip vines and Longland grass, we didn’t have a single quern to grind them into flour. I ordered three and set up a plump helmet farm just in case. You can never have too many plump helmets. We could use some better farmers too, but I’m not going to mention that in front of Alpha and Foundation.

We had the annual Elven caravan pull in. I carefully watched as they made their way along the mountain side. And without a care in the world, they hopped casually down onto the bridge. For several minutes I considered sending the militia to smash in those damn tree hugger’s skulls. It wasn’t fair. I’d spent months plugging Osram-cursed holes in our defences and they’d just strolled on by! They didn’t even realize why I was bashing my head against the wall!

But no, the elves weren’t the enemy this time. The enemy was the mountain. It was the mountain with it slopes and ramps that was fighting me. It was the mountain that refused to be shaped to the plan. It was the mountain laughing at me (actually that one may have been Telrunya now I think of it). But I wasn’t going to let it beat me. The Masons roofed over the bridge, sealing it from the outside. When the elves left, it was through the main entrance.

I was still laughing with glee when one of our fisherdwarves wandered out through what looked like a crack in the floor. There was a lot of screaming after that. Eventually I got the miners to cut away the slopes directly under the bridge. No, I don’t understand why that helped either, but it didn’t matter. Finally I’d secured the fortress.

Oh, Anaris traded some gems to the elves for an assortment of booze to keep us going while I was shouting abuse at the masons. And someone named Datan Rakustsarek went a little funny in the head and emerged having made a wooden earring. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but look at what she managed to fit on it!



Because of the growth in Redstaff’s population, we had an election for a mayor. Or so I’m told, because no one invited me there. Apparently I was too busy screaming at the masons. Ingish Solozmosus won, allegedly because she’s good at ‘calming people down‘ (I have other suspicions). Her Honour started by demanding better quarters as well as her own office and dining room. Evidently having been elected, she’s now too good to slum with the hoi polloi. She’s also bombarding me with demands to make crossbow bolts and not export crowns.

The big excitement though was that it looks like Indirik was right about the elves being scouts for the goblins. Soon after the elves left, one of our masons, Likot, ran into a goblin snatcher. She got scratched with a dagger, but luckily it wasn’t serious. In short succession we found four more of them. One stepped into a cage trap, while the other three managed to flee.

Afterwards I took Commander Vucar and tried to interrogate our prisoner. We didn’t get much out of him. He just flung curses at us and swore that his comrades were going to avenge him. From the ranting we worked out he’s part of a horde called Gozru Sesnum “The Hell of Tribes” and that they’re led by Estrur Xeduburar and Ngerxung Kukogar. Once it was clear he wasn’t going to tell us anything more I promised the Commander she could slice him up for practice once we set up an arena.

So far we’d been lucky, but I had a hospital set up for when that ran out. At the time it seemed like a good idea to put it roughly midway between our food storage, the gatehouse and the ponds. Some of the others pointed out this was right next to the dining hall. With hindsight, I saw their point, hearing the screams of some poor soap maker who’s been stuck full of arrows isn’t something you want while you’re eating. But what’s done is done so I reminded them that I was the Overseer and they weren’t.

It was only later that I remembered I’m not actually the Overseer of Redstaff. Had I known about the whingeing mayors and the ravening goblin hordes and the labyrinth bedrooms and the OSRAM DAMNED HOLES IN THE WALLS, I would’ve taken my chance with the draft. Still, most of those problems have been solved now. I can sit back and enjoy myself. Maybe build a few hives and a press, so we can enjoy a nice barrel of bumblebee mead.

We should have a new group of migrants arriving soon. It’s a nice day, so I think I’ll watch them from the gatehouse.

---------

Iltaran inspected the gigantic war dog that stood sentry in the gatehouse of Redstaff as they waited for the new arrivals. The dog had nearly become the first martyr of the fortress after attacking a goblin snatcher. A long scar made its way along the length of the body and there was a slight limp, but otherwise the mutt had escaped permanent harm.

‘Overseer?’ One of the other spectators called out.. ‘They’re coming.’ There seemed to be eight dwarves in the latest group, all adults. Starting from near the thick woods, they passed by the trio of perpetually frozen polls. Then bizarrely, continued going east, bypassing the obsidian ramp completely and heading around the side of the mountain. Watching in disbelief five levels up, the acting Overseer fought down the churning feeling in his stomach. There was nothing wrong with the defences! There couldn’t be!

When the first of the new immigrants came puffing along the side of the mountain spur towards the gatehouse entrance, it was a relief

‘Greetings friends, welcome to Angnomal!’ He declared expansively, then paused. ‘So, why didn’t you use the ramp?’

‘Ramp?’ Both sides looked at one another in utter incomprehension. The sinking feeling was back.

‘The obsidian ramp.’ Iltaran gestured to it. ‘Over there.’

‘That thing?’ The first migrant looked even more confused now. ‘You’d need wings to make it up that.’

Feeling light headed, the Overseer very slowly walked over to the edge and looked down. Looked down at the Obsidian Ramp that his predecessors had planned would to be the great entrance to Redstaff. He felt the inexplicable need to giggle. The ramp didn’t work. It was nothing but a heap of obsidian blocks leaning against the hill. He’d been so busy trying to plug leaks he’d never bothered to check.

Everything would be fine, he reassured himself. So the centrepiece of the entire gatehouse project was compromised. A project he’d spent the last eight months trying to finish. All he needed to do was get through this meeting. Then he could find a nice deserted mining tunnel and beg Osram to forgive him for whatever he did to deserve this. Yes, just put the developing catastrophe to one side for now.

‘So.’ The acting Overseer swallowed, straining to keep his voice under control. ‘What do you do for a living?’

The question hadn’t really been directed at any of the migrants in particular. Anything to change the topic would do. As fate would have it, the one who answered was an older woman with grey flecks in her hair. ‘I’m an accomplished presser.’ She declared proudly.

Iltaran screamed.
« Last Edit: July 06, 2011, 03:25:08 PM by Iltaran »
[Solari] it's generally understood that OG survives by some compact with the devil

Askarn - Maedros - Savra - Faed - Vanimus

Indirik

  • Exalted Emperor
  • ******
  • Posts: 10849
  • No pressure, no diamonds.
    • View Profile
Have we died out again? Maybe post the save, and see if anyone else can take it up?
If at first you don't succeed, don't take up skydiving.

Iltaran

  • Noble Lord
  • ***
  • Posts: 257
  • What Gate?
    • View Profile
*cough*

So, I may have played my turn months and months ago, then forgot to put up the save game... whoops?

Here it is: http://dffd.wimbli.com/file.php?id=5169

---Happenings in my final days---
We suffered our first casualty, Dakost Feshfikod, Engraver. Burnt to death after taking the dangerous job of tapping a new magma channel. His screams were horrible.

I built a temporary entrance, some stairways leading up to the depot

Mined out the first seam of Iron, so I laid some shafts in the level below. Found another one, it should keep us going for awhile.

Started a third military squad, the Oils of Iron and expanded our two main squads to eight dwarves each. Our Melee Squad (Fenced Tightnesses) just need their greaves done and they'll be full kitted out in Steel. Oh, and they all have Master-class weapons.

The manager got possessed and started demanding "stone rock" "tree life", "Leather Skin" and "cloth thread". Regrettably I could find what he needed and he went mad. In preparation I build a Hall of Memories. Curiously enough Dakost got a burial... I have no idea what they put in the coffin and dont want to know.

Caravan arrived, carrying Platinum and Alumininum of all things. I bought two nuggets, some booze and cloth for stone crafts and a large gem. Ordered booze and gypsum powder for next year.

Started doing some engravings. A disturbingly high amount of them seem to be images of Anaris...

Another five snatchers wandered along, two of whom stumbled into cage traps. I sent the Militia after the others, they only managed to land one hit though.

And thats it.
-Mad, naked Weaver is locked up in a workshop
-Milita performance worrying; they missed a lot against those snatchers. We also run out of empty cages. I recommend starting an Arena to give our troops some better training and clear out the cages.
-Our booze stock is low, although I ordered some brewing to take care of that. Our food situation is fairly good, just make sure the millers keep working.
-We're running out of lumber, although we've got a fair bit of charcoal for steel making.
-I didn't get around to building a well. Since the outside water freezes for half the year, this is going to be necessary if we dont want our casualties dying of thirst.
[Solari] it's generally understood that OG survives by some compact with the devil

Askarn - Maedros - Savra - Faed - Vanimus