Bay 12 Games Forum

unhinged

Oh yes, I remember that first game... pity it petered out so soon.

Anyway. You're in the wrong thread-- this sort of thing goes in "Community Games & Stories", same as the in-character threads. You'll probably get more notice over there.

Maybe even just add a "Players Wanted" notice to the title of the IC thread? It'll get the message across just the same.

All luck to you. I do hope you find some players soon!

Dodok was laughing. It was an odd laugh. A disgruntled sort of laugh.




What with her violently coughing in between chuckles, the sound was unsettling indeed.



Well, thought Dodok to herself, once she'd finished coughing and staggered away from the fumes a bit, I'm sure Scourge has her... reasons. I can't imagine, though, what reasons she'd have to dig our magmaworks entirely out of lignite...

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24th of Limestone, 1050
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Scourge had learned a good deal down in the magmaworks, and while digging down there she'd had ample time to consider how best to split slate off a wall. Now she was back topside, her pick clove the layered rock like never before.



Having finished excavating the entire bedroom floor, Scourge set off for a drink. Maybe next she'd see about expanding that food stockpile she'd never quite finished.

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28th of Limestone, 1050
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An entire caravan's worth of food to mince! Cheese! Meat! Vindcara set quickly to work, delighted at the sudden influx of goods.

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"Smokerock."
"Ayup."

"You built our forges out of... smokerock."



"Ayup."

"Why."

"It's magma-safe," said Dodok. "Completely impervious to the stuff. You can't burn smoke."
"Pff-- that's gotta be a health hazard!" groaned Daedalus.
"It was either that or sphalerite."



"Oh."

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2nd of Sandstone, 1050
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Atir was most displeased.
Soon, she vowed, she would be fit to rid this wretched jungle of its thieving and murderous denizens. Soon.

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3rd of Sandstone, 1050
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*WHACK* *CRACK* *CRASH*



The pick struck furious, the slate flew apart before it. Scourge swung, and clove, and advanced, a warrior against the ever-crumbling stone. She alone wielded the pick, first carver of a soon-mighty fortress. In days to come, dwarves would look upon the labor of her hands, and remember she who carved. They would remember, and wonder at her skill. They would remember, and they would name her Legend.



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I remember once somebody comparing the Dwarfs to Vikings but I am starting to think my Dwarfs are Russians.  Drinking, complaining, getting into fistfights with pigs.  Not joking.  One of them got into a fistfight with a pig.  Punched a boar a couple of times and walked off.

tormenting the player is important

Pardon my ignorance I'm gonna go munch on some bees.

Your house is overrun with all sorts of puppies, all of which die from squishing.

There are old users and bold users but no old, bold users.

Push q-v-l-b-shift.d-V for volcanic armageddon.

And then everything lit itself on fire.

Superdorf's not just watcher. He's Bay overseer  .

the smell of wet dwarf is even worse than wet dog

May Armok give me strength. Or scuba miners.

I wish to be sigged

Quote from: ChaosPotato on February 27, 2020, 07:25:14 pm

Quote from: TheFlame52 on February 27, 2020, 07:09:51 pm

Quote from: ChaosPotato on February 27, 2020, 06:42:42 pm

A night creature stole my pants.

Did it kill you with them?

No but it definitely tried to.

Did you kill it?

And then the zombie horde bum rushed in.
The upper level has been compromised.
And then Granite came, and it ceased to be my problem.

I aim to please. And to break upper spines, of course.

Remember kids: a good fortress is a bunker, a great fortress is a tomb!

being a fish salesdragon is almost certainly below us.

Falling angel met the rising ape, and the sound it made was

klonk

Hold on, booze can be minced? And there's enough of a difference between mincing technique between cooks, that the mincing has a quantifiable quality level? A substance that is liquid at room temperature and pressure can be minced?

My current headcanon is Vindcara's allowing the wine to evaporate into a sort of alcoholic mushroom jelly, then mincing it. It doesn't make much sense, but it never made much sense in the first place, so... eh.

That's fine. I'll claim Adil. XD I'll try and keep my eye on this so I know when my turn comes.

You're welcome to Adil! But if you'd rather...

We've just recieved four more migrants: a husband and wife, and their two children. The couple bear professions deemed useless by Daedalus, and so will be drafted into the military as their own hammer-squad at the first oppurtunity. They'll either die horribly, or become fearsome warriors of legendary skill. Probably both.

Defensive skills mean nothing if a dwarf becomes exhausted. She probably collapsed of over-exertion.

Those animals are proving useful! The dwarven meatshield intrigues me more and more... hm.

I do like "arkim". Nice sound, nice logic. It works.

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9th of Limestone, 1050
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A shout from outside. The trade caravan had arrived.



There was no outpost liaison. There had been no outpost liaison since the Elder Days. Nevertheless, a few bold merchants had decided to brave the wilds, and here they were, with their goods and their pack animals and their guards-- but their wagons moved on, for the wagons would never fit through Dodok's meager hatch cover.

The merchants moved slowly, oh so slowly, trusting the guards to protect them and their goods. Daedalus ground his teeth as the hours crawled on, hoping against hope that the Grim Jungle would be kind to its clueless visitors.
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14th of Limestone, 1050
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By great luck, only a wombat wandered the landscape-- a wombat, quickly spotted and easily slain. A caravan axedwarf claimed the kill.


The wombat lay dead, but now the giant sparrows returned, the flesh hanging from their bones. On the merchants crawled, and still Daedalus watched, raging at the stupidity of the merchants. How they had survived and reached the Grim Jungle in the first place, Daedalus could only wonder.


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15th of Limestone, 1050
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"That's the last merchant!" said Daedalus, running into the dining hall. "They're ready for trade; we need stuff to sell them! What do we have?"

Vindcara leapt to his feet, saying: "What do we have? We have two barrels of finest mincings, from my own kitchen! The underdark will pay well for such fine meats!"

"Wonderful!" cried Daedalus. "Anything else? Anyone?"
Tink. Tink. Tink.

"Anyone?"
Tink. Tink. Tink.

"Wait, what's that sound?"
Tink. Tink. Tink.

"Solitarian?"
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"What... what are they?"
"Mechanisms!" chirped Solitarian, chiselling away at a gear. Tink. Tink. Tink. "I've been working on them for awhile now!"

"But... what do they do?" asked Daedalus.

"Oh, lots of things!" said Solitarian. Tink. Tink. Tink. "You can build traps, bridges that move, pumps for magma... didn't you ever wonder how those things worked?"
"I can't say I have."

"Well, I wonder. I wonder all the time!" Tink. Tink. Tink. "So I looked into it, and I liked it, and I've been tinkering with these ever since. They're very nice, don't you think?"

"...Yes. Yes, actually," said Daedalus. "Say... how much do you think these are worth?"

"Worth?" said Solitarian, frowning slightly. Tink. Tink. Tink. "A fair bit, I should think. Why?"

"Nothing," said Daedalus, but the slow grin was spreading once more across his face.

Tink. Tink. Tink.
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18th of Limestone, 1050
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Well, the good queen Solitarian herself came up to trade, and she turned out to be a pretty cunning salesdwarf. She started off selling Vindcara's meats for more food, drink, cloth and metal, and then once the merchants figured they had a good deal, she brought out the mechanisms and went into some kind of hour-long dissertation on their wonders, flipping the little cogs and latches to demonstrate their use. The merchants were enthralled, and Solitarian came out of it with some rather impressive pieces of bronzework.



All in all, it was a good day.
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