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Men of Codex. Bottle brothers! Two words: "Dwarf Fortress". Say it out loud. Now shut up.
Can you feel that new, yet strangely familiar pulsation deep in your balls? That's your inner dwarf craving for freedom. He wants to work. He wants to drink. He wants to do communism. DO NOT NEGLECT YOUR DWARF ANYMORE!
POST in this thread, JOIN Kodex Kommunistic Fortress and SUFFER A HORRIBLE DEATH today! I mean breath. Fluffer a forwarding breath. Today.
Fucked up the intro. Again. Goddamit. ANYWAY
It's been far too long since anyone posted DF-related stuff around here. Fortunately, ye local drunk Grimwulf is about to fix this.
Grab a beer, squat down, get ready to dive into the story of ambitions, socialism, bad luck, and utter incompetence. Dis gonna b gud. Trust your Kommissar.
If anyone still waiting for my previous LP to resume, sorry men. It's dead. I tried my best to repair my save file a few months back, but the game and every single mod were updated by Steam, so it's beyond salvaging. Also, it's been years since then - what is wrong with you?
Why not start a new game in that case? I could. Maybe I will at some point. But lemme assure those of you who followed Rimworld LP back in the day and not feeling too hot about this whole DF thing: give it a chance. Just read through a couple of posts, will you? I guarantee you'll get hooked.
Comparing Rimworld and Dwarf Fortress is a topic I could go on for ages. Instead, here is the bottom line: while Rimworld is great at what it does, it cannot and will not ever be able to achieve DF levels of simulation and depth.
And by "simulation" I don't mean just procedural generation and RNG. DF does not simply spit generic bullshit data at you. It simulates a whole world where everything is interconnected. Every location, event, creature, muscle and blood vessel has an impact on The Story. Everything counts. To see that, one just has to know where to look.
That being said, we'll return to Rimworld one day.
One day.
Below is some technical mumbo-jumbo regarding worldgen parametres and third-party apps I'm using. Mostly for those who want to dive in / revisit DF in 2019. Totally skippable.
Currently using Meph Set for one simple reason: I want this LP to be readable even for those who never heard of DF. Sure, vanilla ASCII looks cleaner and more pleasing for veteran overseers, myself included. But they are also confusing for uninitiated, especially when you try to make a text LP.
Compared to other tilesets, Meph has the most sprites. Pretty much everything in DF is represented visually AND has different color schemes that change with each passing season.
It comes with a pre-installed package of everything you'll ever want. Armok Vision, Dwarf Therapist, DFHack, SoundSense, a bunch of other plugins, and the game itself. Just unzip and play.
Of all those apps I'm gonna use Armok Vision for an occasional 3D screenshot, DFHack for its QoL functions and LegendsViewer to dive into this world's' details.
No cheating or save-scumming. Every death is permanent, every tragedy and misfortune is here to stay.
As for other settings, everything is vanilla, except a few things:
1. Max population in the player-controlled fortress is limited to 100 dwarves (vanilla is 200), with a hard cap of 120 (vanilla is 220). It means that once we hit 100 dwarven souls, no migrants will arrive anymore. And once we gather 120 comrades, childbirth will be forbidden. I've decreased the limit because I like my DF experience to be cozy, manageable and personal. Gotta know your dwarves.
2. World size is set to "small" (65x65 tiles) to avoid possible late-game lags. I'm using my laptop, so cut me some slack. The world is still huge though.
3. World history is reduced to "short" (125 years since the beginning of time). Kinda hard to explain the reason. Short and Medium histories are just two different games altogether. If you pick medium, you get more war conflicts, dead civilizations, vampire and werebeast curses, denser population. If you stick with short, you get more mythical creatures, titans, forgotten beasts and (most likely) all humanoid civilizations will be still kicking. The world is somewhat more peaceful, but shit is about to change. Wars will be waged. Elves murdered. Many elves, hopefully.
A fine time to be alive, I tell you.
Prologue
Grandpa Urist!
Wha?
I'm bored.
Go punch an elf or sumth.
Tell me a story.
Fark off, you bothersome brat.
I'll fetch you some ale.
You've learned the magic words. Finally. Alright, what kind of story do you want?
Tell me about dwarven wars.
Eh? The dwarves never had a war.
Never?
Not a single one.
Screen taken from LegendsViewer app.
That's weird. And disappointing.
Nothing weird about it. Nobody dares to mess with us dwarves. Good for them. This is the sole reason that allowed us to greatly expand our borders, filling half of the continent with awe-inspiring fortresses and hillocks, divided between three dwarven civilizations:
The Triangular Diamonds, Masters of the South;
The Courageous Crafts, Keepers of the North;
And last but not least, The Spear of Night. Our ever-vigilant cavern dwellers, always on the lookout for menaces from beneath.
Three great civilizations of dwarves may differ in appearance, traditions, and lifestyles, but we treat each other with respect and would never start a fight between brothers.
*yawns*
Yawn again and I'll stuff your throat with my dirty boot.
By Olon's beard, can't you tell an interesting story for once?
Interesting, eh? Fine. This one about the human town of Girderjoyous.
...
Populated by 200 souls, give or take. Now, what if I told you that of those two hundred people inhabiting Girderjoyous, only nine citizens are actual humans?
...
Calling themselves The Council of Tones, nine humans rule over more than a hundred of dwarves. Dwarves! Being ordered around by humans of all creatures!
A shameful stain on our proud history. Such a fucking disgrace. But wait, there is more to the story of this "human" town, much more in fact--
Urist. Please. If I hear this Girderjoyous-disgrace-bullshit one more time, I'll start killing dwarves, I swear.
Oh? So you know about this?
YES, Urist. You told me. A hundred times. My first word was "Girderjoyous", do you know why?
Err
Because you kept mumbling this nonsense since mother got pregnant with me. You've been following her everywhere while reciting the history of Girderjoyous. And you never stopped!
Hrmpf. Kids these days. No appreciation for dwarven history. No respect.
Don't test me, old dwarf. I know my history better than you do.
PROVE IT.
*inhales* The Courageous Crafts was founded at the beginning of time by king Dumat Claspgilt and his loyal friend Mosus Tattoodye. In the first year since the beginning of time, Plankplunged was founded. The greatest dwarven fortress of them all, our capital to this day. In the late Winter of...
One hour later.
Both Dumat and Mosus died of natural causes in the late 70s, and the royal throne was inherited by Dumat's daughter, Bomreck Toolrack. A ranger and a scout since early childhood, now the Queen of The Courageous Crafts.
And what a fine Queen she is.
Queen Bomrek's reign brought rapid growth and prosperity to our civilization. New fortresses and hillocks were built, the population increased, our borders expanded.
"Expanded" doesn't begin to describe it. When king Dumat died, we were but a humble nation.
Today we dominate the whole realm.
Literally.
Well?
What?
I've interrupted you at year 80. We still have to go through another 45 years.
Are you fucking serious, Urist?
Yet another hour later.
And that's it. Recent history of our nation consists of nothing but festivities. I don't understand WHY do I have to remember this crap?
Five years ago Queen Bomrek won a foot race here in Plankplunged. She was 116 years old back then. And yet she won.
How old was her opponent?
Ushat Joyoushall? 103 back then.
... Yes. Very impressive.
He is also Queen Bomrek's younger brother.
Unbelievable.
I know.
Urist, I SWEAR BY MY MOTHER'S HARD-WORKING WOMB, if you don't come up with an engaging story RIGHT NOW, I will personally drink all your ale in one go!
No need to bring yer mother's womb here. Hard-working as it is.
There has to be something exciting happening here in Plankplunged. Anything? Anything recent, maybe?
Actually... Yes. Yes, there is. Have you heard of a dwarf named Aban Alathkulet?
Alathkulet..? No.
Calls himself Grimwulf for whatever reason.
Smells like a start of a story.
A story of a dwarf - a very special dwarf - and an ambition.
Let me grab my beer real quick.
Some weeks ago Grimwulf had a conversation with Queen Bomrek Toolrack here in Plankplunged...
3rd Granite, 125, Early Spring
Throne Room of Plankplunged.
Let me get this straight. You want to build a fortress in the middle of nowhere in order to create a community of dwarves based on a single principle...
From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.
How is it different from what we have here in Plankplunged?
Plankplunged is all needs and no ability. Local dwarves do nothing but celebrate. Everyone here is too goddamn soft and lazy.
What's wrong with the occasional celebration? The Courageous Crafts are prospering. Every dwarf is safe and happy.
Blind fools, completely oblivious in the face of ever-looming threat.
What threat? Elves? Goblins?
The deer threat.
The... deer. I see. What do you want from me, Grimwulf?
A dozen hardy dwarves and supplies to keep them well-fed and permanently drunk.
Advisor!
Yes, my Queen?
Take Grimwulf to the Bureaucratic Hall. Let him fill the forms.
Wait a second. Is it THAT easy to obtain people and resources from the Queen?
Of course not. Many dwarves begged the Queen for support. Not a single one defeated the Bureaucratic Hall.
How so?
Too many forms to fill. One needs a great deal of determination to pass this test. For you see, the Queen is not like her father. New fortresses and hillocks are built by Her orders and Her initiative only.
I take it Grimwulf changed his mind when he saw the Hall?
Quite the opposite. After spending a whole day without sleep, food, and drinks, filling those forms one after another, he finally made it.
What a dwarf.
4th Granite, 125, Early Spring
Throne Room of Plankplunged.
Is this some kind of joke? Angerith?
Me fortress name.
This is the most stupid name I've heard in a long while.
There is no word for "communism" in dwarven language. But Redlabored will have to do.
And your group? You want to name your group Anilcubor?
Aye. The very sound makes me slightly aroused.
Watch your filthy tongue in front of your Queen, dwarf.
Only slightly. My member is not what it used to be.
Forget the names, what is that?
Our symbol.
It makes no sense!
And yet it describes my ideals perfectly.
I think we are done here.
Wrong. I am far from done with Grimwulf.
*still standing, despite the overwhelming urge to lay down and rest*
Your list of requested supplies is borderline insulting!
Tools, weapons, a small fortune of food, alcohol, seeds, and deer hearts? Ten deer hearts? Ten deer lungs? Ten deer kidneys?
And two yaks to haul this stuff.
Forget it. And don't get me started on the proposed location.
Not only this location is too far from our borders, but the Laborious Hills is also a no man's land. A buffer zone, if you will. As soon as we start settling this region, dwarves and elves would have to coexist too close to each other. That will lead us to a long and entirely unnecessary war.
Why are you so obsessed with settling there, Grimwulf?
I mean... The Laborious Hills. Come on.
*takes a moment to collect herself*
My Queen?
Grimwulf. I will be straight and honest. Brutally honest.
My whole damn life is brutal. Shoot.
You are one of our masons. Not a good one. Probably the worst of the lot. Totally replaceable. You are not a pleasant dwarf to be around with. You have no friends or family here. Nobody likes you.
Are you flirting with me?
I am saying we could do without you here in Plankplunged.
Ecum Fairrighteous be my witness, I could even provide the supplies you asked for in that ridiculous request of yours.
Neat.
But I will NOT condemn a single dwarf to die out there in pursuit of your foolish dream. No sane dwarf would volunteer anyway.
An unforeseen obstacle. Awright. I can work on that.
You won't have to. Because even if you get lucky finding a bunch of adventurous settler dwarves, I will never permit building a fortress in my name out there in the Laborious Hills.
You are flirting with me, after all.
Request DENIED!
The end. Now go fetch my ale.
I'll fetch you water instead. More than enough for such a bland story.
Blegh! Not water! Fine, fine, there is more to it. A couple days later the Queen reconsidered Grimwulf's request.
Huh? Why?
Hell if I know.
6th Granite, 125, Early Spring
Throne Room of Plankplunged.
I've been thinking about Grimwulf lately.
You are supposed to think about our nation and problems at hand.
Correct. May I offer a suggestion, your Majesty?
Speak up.
Four dwarves were sentenced to exile last month. Still waiting for the sentence to be carried out.
What's the hold-up?
According to the Law, all exiles must be supplied with provisions and at least two pack animals per dwarf. Exiles might be minor offenders, but these dwarves are still subjects of your Majesty.
Give them some mules then.
We simply cannot spare any mules, cows or yaks at this point. Our pastures need more time to recover after recent festivities. With all that massive butchering going on, the poor things cannot reproduce as fast as we eat them.
I see. Can't we simply pardon the exiles?
Not these exiles.
What does it have to do with Grimwulf anyway?
This may sound stupid, I know... You should allow him to settle the Laborious Hills. Not in your name, not as a part of our civilization. But rather as an independent group of settlers. We can spare the supplies, my Queen. After talking to our rancher dwarves, I think we can give away an old limping horse and a skinny diseased llama too.
A limping horse can't pull a wagon.
I'm sure Grimwulf will figure out a solution. He strikes me as a resourceful dwarf if a bit deranged.
And then what? Just send the poor exiles out there with Grimwulf? That is a death sentence, not an exile.
All of them have a good head on their shoulders. Once they realize Grimwulf is insane, they will leave and find a new home. Needless to say, it won't be your problem by then.
An over-complicated and somewhat expensive solution to a simple problem. Have you considered the damage to my reputation? Every dwarf will witness Grimwulf and four exiles - five dwarves in total - sent out on a suicide mission. You do not build a new fortress with five dwarves.
I would never bother my Queen with suggestions if it was only about Grimwulf and exiles. And I do realize you need at least seven dwarves to stand a chance out there. So... *starts hesitating*
Well? Spit it out already.
Our prison holds two dwarves sentenced to death. Normally executions are carried out instantly, but those two...
Yes. Etur Loloradil and Ustuth Nazomerib. I remember.
Your Majesty should pardon them with a condition of accompanying Grimwulf to the Laborious Hills.
... I need some time to think this over.
Wait. I remember now. About a week ago a huge crowd of dwarves gathered on the central square of Plankplunged.
Aye. Such a colorful group of settlers going out on adventure is a curious sight to behold. Seven dwarves led by Grimwulf, among them two prisoners sentenced to death, but pardoned by our magnanimous Queen.
One of them is Etur Loloradil, the former Captain of the Guard of Plankplunged.
Indeed. The poor dwarf did a mighty fine job back in the day. No crime was left unpunished. Everything was under control.
Until he insulted the Queen.
It's a bit more complicated than that. Etur Loloradil was prone to excessive violence. Once he smashed the brain out of a dwarven loiterer with his iron war hammer. Frankly speaking, loitering is not even much of a crime. As Etur pointed in the report, "the dorf wus shuspishus".
Huh.
Etur was sent to the mines as a punishment. More than once. Come to think of it, he spent several years down there in total, which only made things worse. Etur kept demanding extra payment for his work. The famous insult was just a final step towards his downfall.
Everyone knows how it went. He kick-opened the doors to the Queen's private quarters, shouting "Give me my BONUS, bitch!"
Damned fool. Other guards still hold a great deal of fear and respect for him. The Queen ordered to erase Etur's name from the chronicles and outlawed any mentions of Etur Loloradil in public. And yet the dwarves keep sharing his story calling him "Kalin" instead.
He was sentenced to death quite a while ago. Four months or so? How is he still alive?
Most of the dwarves, our Queen included, feel sorry for Kalin. He was a good captain. I'm guessing the Queen doesn't want to sour dwarven moods by executing a well-known and respected dwarf right before upcoming festivities.
Makes sense. You said there was another sentenced prisoner in Grimwulf's group?
... Yes.
Want to tell me about him?
No.
Do I have to punch you in the face? Will that make you reconsider?
Shut it, little beardless bastard. You can't even throw a proper threat.
Can you at least tell me his name?
Ustuth Nazomerib. Infamous surgeon of Plankplunged, sentenced to death 8 years ago.
Eight years? That was before I was born!
Aye. Don't even ask me about his crimes. Disgusting. Horrific. Shameful.
Forget Kalin, why is he still alive?
Too popular among the female dwarves. Err, I'll get into more details when your beard grows up a bit.
What, that's it? That's the whole reason he was kept in a cell for eight years?
... Rumor is, the Queen is quite fond of him too.
Oh. Ohhhhh. That song they sing in the taverns. "Crown Penetrator, Imprisoned".
No, by the Gods. No vulgar songs in my house!
"Sleeps on stone, his smile fancy. Been in all the dwarven panties. Locked and doomed for things unworded. Yet with Royal Hole rewarded."
This doesn't even sound like a dwarven song. Must be elvish, distasteful as it is.
I don't remember the name Ustuth Nazomerib being mentioned in the song.
The Queen outlawed any public mentions of Ustuth Nazomerib, the same as in Kalin's case. When a dwarf needs to mention this criminal, usually as part of a curse or a horrible insult, he is referred to as Azira.
So... Grimwulf and others have left Plankplunged. I wonder how they made a limping horse pull a wagon full of supplies. And an anvil.
They didn't. Grimwulf ordered Kalin to carry the wagon, much to the amusement of the crowd. And Kalin's raging protests. And so they left.
That was a week ago. What happened next?
They all died, I presume. And if not... May the Gods have mercy on these poor dwarves.
15th Granite, 125, Early Spring
The Laborious Hills
HOLD YER HORSES, Kalin!
What fuggin' HORSES?! I've been HAULIN' this goblin-made piece of woodcrap you call WAGON this whole FARKIN' week, you brainfucked bastard! It would be so much easier if your fat ass was HELPING instead of SITTING ON TOP of the fucking thing! FUUUCK!!
We're here. Dis is the place.
Grimwulf, my friend. I don't mean to sound ungrateful - you have released me, after all - but you said we are travelling to the land of beer. Well... I don't see any beer.
You know what, throw me in there too. Gimme a dwarf that takes care of animals. Preferably chickens and doggies.
I wonder what the dwarven equivalent of a fedora is...
You know what, throw me in there too. Gimme a dwarf that takes care of animals. Preferably chickens and doggies.
I wonder what the dwarven equivalent of a fedora is...
You know what, throw me in there too. Gimme a dwarf that takes care of animals. Preferably chickens and doggies.
I wonder what the dwarven equivalent of a fedora is...
Chapter 1. No. Episode 1. Wait, that doesn't sound right either. Day 1. Goddamit, I need some inspiration.
GWAHAHA, that is RRRRRICH! Finished dis shit in one go, what a champ! Glorious. Gotta sleep, though. Some proofreading in the morning and it's good to go.
What the fuck is WRONG with me? This is sick. This is a mess. Gotta tone it down BIG TIME.
Some hours of intensified self-editing later
That should do it. One more round of proofreading wouldn't hurt. Need to grab a beer first. Just one bottle.
Dis is so BORING! Blegh. It needs more emotions. More... color
Right. This will have to do. What do you think, Grammarly?
Fuck you.
Next one is coming today. I think.
We are about to know our dwarves better, thus a few technical things need to be clarified.
1. DF has a concept of skill rust. If you don't practice a skill, it will degrade in time. Keep that in mind when looking at the skills.
E.g., Kalin is currently more of a miner than a hammerdwarf, but it doesn't mean he was always like that.
That being said, some of the poorly-developed skills might have been always that poor. Making conclusions is up to you.
2. Some underground screenshots turned out to be dark-ish. I've increased their brightness in the image editor as a temporary solution while tinkering different color palettes in Meph's tileset. I'll figure it out before long, no worries.
3. Don't get attached to the dwarf sprites. They only change when a dwarf changes profession, not equipment. There is also not a single sprite for female dwarves (who are not supposed to have a beard in DF). So when you look at screenshots and see dwarves, just assume it's some dwarf. It could be anyone. Don't try to guess who is who.
As of the final note, it seems to me like all of you are more or less familiar with Dwarf Fortress. This is why I'm not diving into the basics here. If you fail to understand a concept/event/whatever at any point, ask away and I'll explain.
Awright you worthless beer barrels, grab yer tools and start working! Slacking will NOT be tolerated in Angèrith! As the Kommissar, I will assign specific tasks according to your abilities. Right. Erm. What are your abilities?
I thought you'd never ask. I was working as a cook in Krugg Boarblood's tavern before leaving Plankplunged. So I can cook. Oh, and my father used to have a farm, I've spent my whole childhood there. I can handle crops as well.
Well, at least I think so. Not too sure. What kind of mushrooms do you plan to grow here, Grimwulf? Plump helmets, I assume? They always start with plump helmets. Good for cooking, good for brewing. What kind of food do you prefer?
Who are you?
What do you mean?
Who ARE you?
It's me, Etur! We've been chatting all the way down here. Well, I did the talking. You mostly listened.
Stuff my boots with elven dicks, SHUT UP, both of you! Etur, he WAS NOT listening to your ear-fucking monologues, cuz he was SLEEPING HIS ASS OFF in this excuse of a wagon, while I was hauling both Grimwulf and wagon stuffed with supplies - INCLUDING A FUCKING ANVIL - all the fucking way, FOR A WEEK NO LESS!
I wasn't sleeping. Just collecting my thoughts. Planning ahead.
You were SNORING, fat fuck!
I'm sure it's just a breathing issue. Nothing I can't handle with a bit of a... treatment.
You know medicine then?
The best dwarven surgeon you could find in Plankplunged. At your service.
Surgeon my ass *spits on the ground*. Criminul scum. I was the one who caught him RITE ON DA CRIME SCENE eight years ago!
An unfortunate accident, not a crime.
That dwarf Monom came to you as a patient with a broken finger and left MISSING BOTH ARMS!
I was trying to prevent necrosis. Did everything by the book.
Ye ye, same old song as ever. Azira is a butcher, not a fekin' surgeon.
It's alright. I don't expect a brute like you to understand the intricate nuances of medical arts.
When a dwarf suffers an injury, he is free to choose: visit a doctor or tough it out. That Monom fellow made the wrong choice. He has only himself to blame.
And you are?
Goden Daggercalled. Call me Merc.
Is that a DEER on your brooch?
A stag. My family insignia.
Don't like you already.
I think it looks neat. That's some fine craftsdwarship. Who made it? Someone in Plankplunged?
Dammit, dwarf! Can you stop squeaking for a farkin' moment?
No can do, Kommissar! They don't call me Sqeecoo for nothing!
Just... go find a good spot for farming plots! Or something.
You got it! *trots away, whistling*
Olon Wallrims the Blockaded Oars, I've never seen such a noisy dwarf in me life. Back to you, deer-lover.
I presume you wish to know my expertise? Carpenter. Woodcutter. Woodcrafter. I turn forests into barren plains. Transform useless trees into things of great beauty and utility. And when some pitiful tree-loving elf tries to stop me, I use my ax to rid the world of such a pointless creature.
Ah yes, the Daggercalled Woodcrafts. Quite a successful enterprise, or at least it used to be eight years ago. Why were you exiled?
*visibly annoyed* Queen Bomrek is weak. She is nothing like her father. When the elven diplomats came whining, the Queen decided to bend over. And for what, I ask you? Trading our best metalwork for silk and clothing? Insulting.
You've spoken against the Queen? Consider yourself lucky to be exiled and not imprisoned. Am I right, Kalin?
Fark rrrright off, Azira.
I didn't speak against her. But neither did I listen to her stupid decree of establishing a tree-cutting quota. Nobody tells ME how many trees I am allowed to cut down. Not even the Queen. And certainly not the elves.
Good news: you can cut the trees, the elves, and even the gods of nature for all I care. Bad news: no more enterprises. The very word is offensive.
*shrugs*
*inhales sharply* Are we done with introductions yet?
Not before you do us a favor of introducing yourself.
Vabok Deadhandle. Mechanic. Happy now?
How come we've never met?
Dat's fucking Sukhavati. The one who breaks shit instead of making shit less shit.
Do you always speak like a drunk goblin child?
Nu. Sometimes I let MAH WAR HAMMAR speak for me!
Enough, you two! What was that about breaking shit?
Look. When they tell me to repair something intricate, I need to disassemble it first. Can't fix a problem until you find the design flaw. No dwarf of Plankplunged had the wits to understand this simple concept. They demanded explanations. I have no time for explanations.
In other words, she broke a dozen perfectly fine ballistas and flipped off the overseer after being confronted. What a dumb bitch.
Whatever.
*looks at the dwarf standing aside* What about you? I haven't heard a thing from you since we left Plankplunged.
Urvad. Miner.
Not a talkative one, eh?
Thank Gods.
Urvad is a proud name. Do you remember the child who single-handedly engraved the Throne room after Queen Bomrek's ascension 40 years ago? His name was Urvad too.
Not only that, but he encrusted the new crown with truly masterwork gems. Such talent. At such a young age as well. I wonder what happened to him?
He just disappeared, it seems. Gone without a trace. If only the Captain of the Guard did his job properly, the dwarven race could witness the ascension of a new Urist Gemhood.
As if we needed one. I ain't no babysitter.
*throws a measuring look at Urvad* A miner then. And a silent one either. Why can't the rest of you be like this dwarf here?
Tell you what, I've been spendin' some time in the mines due to the Royal Bitch orders, low-quality time, by the way. And I can vouch for Tindrli. That's how the others called Urvad. Gud miner. Definitely more useful than some sissy-ass engraver right now.
*nods silently*
Indeed. Redlabored won't dig itself.
Before your grim ass even thinks about it, I am NOT some low-life pickaxe-swinger, aright? I am a basher. I bash things.
If you're half as good at digging as you are at wagon-hauling, you are a miner in my book.
Go fuck a tree stump. What are YOU good at anyway?
Providing unique vision and unwavering leadership. ENCOURAGING dwarves to work hardar.
Kommissar! I'm back!
Fuck's sake. Already?
Found a spot just to the east! The soil is pretty good out there. Do you want to check it out yourself? Just in case. No pressure, though.
I don't. But if anything goes wrong, I'll blame you. RIGHT THEN! Planning. *grabs a stick and starts scribbling awkward depictions on the muddy ground* Gotta dig a downward slope leading underground, but not too deep.
My grandmother draws better. She's blind.
That won't work, Grimwulf. We need to go deeper than that. There is neither stone nor metal on the surface.
Not to mention the prospect of living in the mud. Where is your dignity, old dwarf?
That's not the fortress, you halfwits. Angèrith will take its time. Before we start even thinking about the layout of our fortress, we must cover our most basic needs. We shall build a temporary outpost. And yes, Azira, we shall eat and sleep in the mud if we have to!
Not how I imagined living in the Land of Beer.
The downslope will lead to the entry hallway.
Make it large enough for the wagons.
Why would I want to pull the wagon here?
Not our wagon, Grimwulf. Trade wagons.
Trading? What kind of capitalistic heresy is this?
Look. Even if you don't plan to trade, it's worth keeping a trade depot on the ready. Caravans going through Angèrith will spread the word of our fortress, attracting guests and migrants.
Agreed. We could use more dwarfpower. And buy some extra booze while at it.
Hrmph. Fine. Apart from the depot, we shall only setup necessary facilities in the outpost. Let them be crude but functional. What do we need?
A place to eat, drink and relax.
A farm! And a kitchen. And a still.
Storage area. The bigger - the better.
Kalin's Throne Room.
A private study or two.
Why?
To have some privacy?
Carpenter's workshop.
Kalin's Grand Feasting Hall.
Mechanic's workshop, so I could work on basic security measures.
Butchery and tannery. So we can hunt game and make use of meat and furs. Don't you think, brothers? Do you like mountain goat meat? Anyone?
Kalin's Extra-Secure Vault of Bonuses.
A hospital, I guess. Let us hope we won't need it.
Did anyone mention bedrooms yet?
A prisun. Complete with Kalin's Personal Torture Chamber.
*drawing schemes on the muddy ground*
Oi, Tin-Brains! Don't you have anything to say on the matter?
Yeah, Tindrli! Speak up, don't be shy.
A temple.
Temple? Nonsense. Religion is the opium of the dwarves.
What is "opium"?
I agree with Tindrli. We should honor the Gods for helping us get this far.
Honor the GODS?! Which one of your gods HAULED DAT WAGON all the way from Plankplunged? The only favor I want to ask the gods is to PULL THEIR DICKS FROM MY FUCKING ASS! Gods! Fuck!
Good one, brother.
OH, FUCK OFF!
*making final adjustments in the mud-schemes* Aaaand done.
I'm not too sure about this design. Not sure at all. What do you think, Sukhavati?
It's functional. Nothing else matters at the moment.
My hairy fucking balls are funkshinul, and dis layout? It's the epitome of shit rite there.
You've managed to stick the word "epitome" in your speech? Impressive.
No Kalin's Room, no Kalin's Hall, no Kalin's Vault, no nothing. But fuck dat. Imma patient dwarf, I can tough it out. For now. What buggers me the most is dis:
Hm, that doesn't look right. Kommissar? What was that about equality?
You are all equals here in Angèrith. Thus you will sleep together, as komrades.
Yes, but aren't you--
ENOUGH BEARD-SHAKING, YOU SLOTHFUL LEECHES! I give you ONE MONTH to make this outpost happen! You there, Sqeacker!
It's Sqeecoo! Remember?
Plant those seeds, pronto!
But where should I--
Azira and Suka-Vata!
Sukhavati.
Unload the wagon! MERCH! Chop down every farkin' tree you see!
Merch? Who's Merch?
Kalin, Tender-Drill, grab those picks and dig me an outpost!
I ain't yer personul pussy-dwarf. You want a hole - go dig it yourself.
The least productive dwarf gets NO BOOZE!
Farkin' piece of-- *takes a pickaxe and starts digging, swearing all the way*
2nd Slate, 125, Mid-Spring
Nobody wants to speak with me. Don't know why. Probably too tired and focused on the task at hand? Most likely. So I started a diary! Maybe one day I will be the historian of Angèrith, who knows!
Things do not go as planned, much to Grimwulf's frustration. Kalin and Tindrli dug out the outpost pretty fast, which shouldn't be surprising, as they were digging through dirt. Problem is, all our workstations and furniture have to be made of wood, our only available resource. We have plenty, thanks to Merc.
How much exactly, you ask? You won't ask. You are a diary. But still, how much exactly? Who knows! Nobody is keeping records!
Anyway, Merc is our only carpenter. You cannot expect one dwarf to build everything you need in such a brutal deadline.
So we have a useless empty outpost!
We take shifts sleeping in the wagon, it's fine really. The moods are pretty high. No reason to be sour unless the booze runs out. Besides, Grimwulf's rage is kinda fun. He keeps shouting at me, blaming for not planting a single seed yet. I ask him what's the rush? He throws empty bottles at me. Misses. Starts swearing again. Fun.
Almost forgot, Sukhavati raised a good point of building a bridge across the river as soon as possible. Which resulted in even more work for poor Merc. But it's better than having a group of dwarves willing to join us but unable to cross the stream.
It is going to be a retracting bridge.
It's strange that Sukhavati was the only one who gave this matter any thought. She's smart. I'm kind of jealous. In a good way.
2nd Slate, 125, Mid-Spring
The Outpost.
Gotta drink. What's this? A LIZARD?!
IN MY GLORIFIED DUNGEON! I'll kick your EGGS off!
What's the ruckus?
Look at this filthy creature! Disgusting.
Well. That's a lizard.
You are truly a doctor, Azira.
This is not a laughing matter, Kommissar. We might have a vermin infestation. Those lizards will eat through our food stocks like an army of starving dwarves. Wooden barrels won't stop them.
*strangles the lizard violently*
No point, Grim. Can't strangle them all. We should find an additional source of food until we deal with the infestation. Hunting? Scratch it, none of us has a crossbow. Or bolts for that matter. Maybe fishing? Foraging?
*contemplating on dead lizard* So. You said you're a "surgeon", eh?
3rd Slate, 125, Mid-Spring
Azira has been spending a lot of time around our pack animals lately. So naturally, I approached him! He wasn't very inclined to explain the details, he just said something about "checking current health condition" and "Kommissar's orders". Oh, well. I was hoping for something more exciting, but I guess there is no harm in keeping our animals healthy. So lucky we have a doctor and a leader who cares about their well-being!
13rd Slate, 125, Mid-Spring
Aww, our poor horsey died. Nobody seems to care, too busy with work. Always working. Kalin was even glad she died, only saying "call dibs on da meaty parts". Am I really the only dwarf who feels sorry for the horse?
So I've been following Azira everywhere asking all about the cause of death. I promised myself to keep pushing until I get the answer. Don't like being pushy, but had to do it for the horsey. Poor horsey. She was keeping us company all the way from Plankplunged to Angèrith, limping right behind our group.
Eventually, Azira gave up and said she suffered a collision with a particularly sharp object which led to incompatible with life bloodloss followed by the seizure of life functions.
Not sure what it means, but he said it very confidently. Now I feel even more secure knowing we have such a professional among us.
14th Slate, 125, Mid-Spring
Storage Room
What are you doing?
Packing my personal belongings, what else? I'm leaving.
Over my lifeless body.
Look around, Kommissar. This is a hopeless situation. Look!
We have lizards AND rats eating through our food! We'll be starving before Summer!
Wait, is that horse meat? WHY IS IT NOT STORED IN BARRELS?!
We don't have any empty barrels.
I TOLD YOU TO MAKE A BUNCH OF NEW ONES!
And then you suspended that order and told me to make a bed for your private quarters before anything else. It's done, by the way. You're welcome.
How much food do we have left?
Nobody bothers counting.
What a mess.
My point exactly.
That's it. EVERYOOOOOONE, GATHER AROUND!
Later that day.
This CANNOT be tolerated any longer!
What's wrong?
EVERYTHING, Squirrel! All of you booze-licking assholes are useless! Privileged Plankplunged-dwellers, I fucking KNEW the likes of you ain't cut for the job. Should've looked for tougher dwarves in local hillocks. Goddamit.
*spits on the ground*
TOO LATE NOW, I suppose. But I'm not giving up on Redlabored so easily. I found a solution.
*smirks when she hears "solution" coming from Grimwulf*
Appointments.
Appointments?
Appointments.
*awkward silence hangs in the storage room for a minute or so*
Oh, is it my turn? Appointments?
YES, AZIRA! APPOINTMENTS!
Grimwulf, for God's sake, would you care to elaborate?
We shall distribute responsibilities. What is there to explain?
And that solves our problems how..?
I'll have someone to blame for all our failures.
MAKE YOUR KEY CHOICE
You know the drill, nothing changed from the old days. We put the matter to vote. Everyone is free to post suggestions, but only those currently in-game have actual votes. That's how Kodex Kommunism works, dwarves.
Today we decide who will ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL of certain positions here in Angèrith. Here is the full list of positions available:
Before you ask, Expedition Leader aka Kommissar is IRREPLACEABLE. You backstabbin' ungrateful bastards.
We don't need a hammerer, a sheriff and a militia commander at this point. Ignore these positions even if Kalin threatens to beat you bloody.
The rest of them are put to vote. Remember, one dwarf can hold any number of positions with a few exceptions (e.g. a fortress leader cannot also be the militia commander), but none of them apply to the current situation. So if you feel like voting for Azira to hold all positions, go for it. Voting for yourself is permitted. You can also vote for Grimwulf to take care of things, but Grimwulf will remember this. In case of a draw, Grimwulf's vote will decide the outcome.
Positions. How do they work? IN SHORT:
Bookkeeper will update the records so that we know the exact amount of our stocks and supplies. A crucial task in light of our current vermin problem.
Broker is the dwarf responsible for trading, bargaining, chit-chattin' with the merchants. Waste of time, if you ask me. But might as well have one, since we've built the trade depot already.
Chief Medical Dwarf monitors health conditions of our dwarves and oversees the work of other medical staff. Which we have none.
Manager is the most critical one. He receives orders (that can be very complex and interconnected) from the leader, approves the orders, and proceeds to organize the execution. He commands over all of the non-military dwarves, except the expedition leader. He also does a lot of chit-chatting, keeping the moods high. Or at least attempts to.
Position names can and should be customized. I think that the dwarf holding the position should be able to decide on the name. It's only logical. If Kalin becomes a Sheriff at some point in the future, who can stop him from calling himself The Prolebasher? Not me. And definitely not you.
Elections will be held on a semi-regular basis, so newcomers will get a chance to apply for positions.
Here are the forms for you to fill (just quote the text below):
Would that I could brofist twice.
This is awesome, and your impression of me is spot-on. I was for real meaning to ask if you're going to be focusing on plump helmets first :D Also why is the only path to the temple through the farm? Are we worshiping some sort of hippie goddess?
You also need cats I think, to deal with the rodents and such.
As for the roles, I usually have the Bookkeeper, Broker, and Manager be the same person as the latter two exercise the same skillset I believe, and Grimwulf already has some bookkeeping skills, so I vote for our glorious Commissar to be all three of those. Azira is the chief medical dwarf, ofc. His expertise is unquestionable.
What I usually do is plan the whole fortress in advance with each floor focused on one thing since it's faster to go up/down than travel the whole length of the fort. So I plan multiple workshop floors, storage floors, dining floors, residential floors etc., and then dig selectively as needed. But digging a temporary fortress in the dirt is fine also, for sure.
I always try to take two masons and just a lot of pickaxes, and have most everyone dig. It's not hard to max out mining skill just from excavation.
Are temples something new btw? I don't remember having them.
Dammit, dwarf! How am I supposed to get cats in the middle of a forested hill?
We can deal with vermins in several ways, but all of them require dwarfpower. We cannot afford to be distracted. So we'll tough it out until first migrants arrive.
What I usually do is plan the whole fortress in advance with each floor focused on one thing since it's faster to go up/down than travel the whole length of the fort. So I plan multiple workshop floors, storage floors, dining floors, residential floors etc., and then dig selectively as needed. But digging a temporary fortress in the dirt is fine also, for sure.
I always try to take two masons and just a lot of pickaxes, and have most everyone dig. It's not hard to max out mining skill just from excavation.
Pretty sure it's an old feature. Not all dwarves are religious, though. Mayhaps you've been playing with a bunch of ungodly ones, and thus didn't really need temples in your fortress.
Can't believe I'm being refused my akshul job! Until I get my rightful rekognishun as Sheriff and Captain of the Guard I will have to settle for Manager!
Bookkeeper - sqeecoo. Xir already have diary. One book more, one less - who cares.
Manager - Grimwulf. Because i can.
Medic - easy choice.
Broker - tindrli.
HEY! I just said I'm the Manager. Grimwulf is busy being bossman, doing bossy stuff, shit like that. Also it's important to have a social person for the job and that's ME!
The chances of criminal activity among seven dwarves living in a muddy hole are non-existent. So a Sheriff would be doing nothing but loitering.
Unless that Sheriff is Kalin.
In DF Sheriffs can sometimes, let's call it, overindulge. Which means beat to death any dwarf they don't like. Chances of such events happening depend on the Sheriff's personality. As much as I would like to give you dwarves freedom of choice (hur hur, freedom in KKK, you wish), it would be a suicide button at this point.
Let's wait until we raise the population a bit before doing anything irrational Kommunistic.
