Bay 12 Games Forum

Our wicked ways have driven DarkerDark away! We must wear undyed rope reed robes, and cease cutting down trees!

Mining will help you forget your astounding lack of rhythm and groove. until the wee hours of the morning, where the knowledge of your failures will haunt your pitiful attempts at sleep.

Dig out some stone, build a masonry workshop, put up doors between each room.

You take the time to make a thorough inventory of your person. Wrapped snugly around your torso and groin are yellowing strips of coarse fabric, frayed and seemingly ready to crumble at a touch, although they only shed a few loose threads when you run your hands over them. You are barefoot and bare legged, save for the heavy shackles locked just above your ankles. Peering beneath them, you see a thick, insensate layer of scar tissue, much like the skin under the manacles on your wrists. You are still wearing the heavy long-coat you found in the storage room in the underground canal, although it has a dark reddish-brown stain on the left breast now. You find yourself wishing for a mirror, or even a still puddle, so you could get a better look at yourself as a whole.
It dawns on you that you could cannibalize the fastening straps from the coat, or even use the enzyme cutter to directly bond pieces of the shell to cover your vitals more. You could also fashion a protective gauntlet/shield from the crab's larger claw.
You step out into the corridor, the gritty muck squelching unpleasantly underfoot. The floor beneath the thick coating of sludge feels much like the metallic plates that form the walls and floor of the cell. The corridor is unlit, but your bio-luminescence provides just enough light to see by. The walls are more of the same, metallic plates bolted to an unseen framework, although dark oil seep sluggishly from the cracks between them. One of the plates near the cell you came from is missing, revealing a bewildering array of gears, pistons, and chains, all seemingly working at cross-purposes. Some of them are entirely disconnected, and a few hand-sized gears are laying loose on the floor, half-covered in slime. Looking up, you can see that the ceiling is crusted with scaly deposits of salt, forming a weirdly organic pattern. Slow drips of water fall from brittle stalactites.
As you advance along the corridor, arbitrarily choosing left, you count six doors on each side, twelve in total, before the passage abruptly ends in a tangle of shattered stone and fused metal. Torn and severed pipes protruding from the mess pump spurts of oil and water, in time with the omnipresent thumping.

Status;

Inventory;

Syrup? That means sugar, and sugar can be turned in to delectable, life-sustaining booze!
Step one, carpent up a workshop
Step two, The trees must die
Step three, barrels all up ins
Step four, BOOZE.
Step five,
Step six, PROFIT!

We could always try to breach the cavern layers. Familiar plants and caves are good for the dorfy soul.

20 men hunt
10 men explore
20 men build housing
10 men build a dock
20 women/10 men fishing
everyone else to the crops and maintaining the ship.
If you have little idea of the surrounding, how do you plan on becoming self sufficient?

This. We need to survey the land. Arm the explorers with muskets, as well.