Bay 12 Games Forum

Well, OK, no FB related involvement so not that form of syndrome.

Aside from disasters DF manages to surprise us all with something weird at some point.

I've built this large water reservoir freezer thing. It's essentially a giant shallow stone box mounted over the centre of the fortress. My original plan was to allow mass creation and mining of ice to speed up ice block availability, allowing the meaningless giant snowflake overlay-everything-in-ice-constructions mega-project to speed along.

After many in-game years of dithering along I finally decided to try to fill it with enough water to give me something more to work with next winter. Fire up the pumps & get it up to about 3/7 water level. Hm, will have to wait for the murky pools to refill or .. nah, you know what? The hell with the ice project, let's use this as our main fresh water source ...

Found a few dead remains mixed in, designated them for dumping, & a little later .. more dead remains? More dumping designations .. oh, there's even more? How?

So I watch the reservoir like a hawk for a few in-game days when I finally see this mini "explosion" of mud cloud the waters as something waded in & was washed off. One of my Dwarfs on their designated dumping mission? Nope - it's a cat.

All three fortress anti-vermin cats have chosen this place to dump their kills. All of them. All the time.

Damn it!

Not exactly a disaster - I'm just dumbfounded as to why they've chosen to do this. I thought cats dropped this stuff off in front of the dwarfs? Or the kitchen, or the dormitory, or the dining room, or anywhere miasma can bloom to good effect. *Why* did they choose this place? Maybe because it's been dry & unused, & perhaps the most quiet section of the fortress for last 5 years or so?

Since they've managed to foul it all to hell & back I guess I'll just fall back to my ice generator idea. I am curious what the cats will do once I manage to fill it past 4/7 so they can't use it as their own personal refuse pile. I'm *certain* once it ices over they'll be back in force cover it in their own special love!

Or maybe they'll go back to dumping stuff in the Mayor's office in protest?

Cats.

Damn cats.

Club Fed, as it were.

Engraved & decorated everything. All the furnishings. Personal booze & ultra high quality prepared food stockpiles. Platinum doors, the works. ( And I usually lock the doors for their prison duration to keep random morons from camping out in their "cell," eating their food. Solitary confinement & they love it. )

It's the only way the common folk can live better than the nobles without the nobles going ape shit.

Without this mostly my experience has been death of prisoners due to neglect, so you have to have everything prepared well before hand.

I was wondering about that - does gamelog.txt ever get truncated or cleared? I'm OK with letting it grow, it's kinda neat to vgrep back to the beginning & see what I was doing at start.

I'll want to save it if there's an inbuilt rollover of some sort.

"When the truth is found to be lies & all the joy within you dies." ~ Jefferson Airplane

A sweet & intense romance, lasting all of five days if you include time spent sleeping off injuries. Not short enough as Das Boot understood these things. Patience was a virtue for others.

Another camp of bored farmers playing at banditry? Why not, the others were all same. Das Boot deigned not to even notice the two guards, leaving them to his homicidal gangsters. Infiltrating the center of the camp he finds their leader. Three quick shots of his iron whip & that so called leader lies at his feet, arms & one leg broken. Das Boot paints the landscape red with his blood, taking his time, working off some frustration. He must have that singular silvery statuesque work of a goddess. He shall have! He snaps out of his reverie. What's taking them so long? Backtracking into the horrible discovery that he is not the only one with a taste for blood landscaping. Whatever else they were not, these last two bandits were well armed.

Gimpy's prone on the grass - out cold! A single glace told that Gimpy was a mess; but, that was normal. At least Gimpy was safe for now. More worrying was the cluster such of body parts surrounding an iron axe armed bandit. The nameless hammer-man still held his own here trying to distract that axeman from gutting the sniper once & for all. Clearly the axeman judged the sniper as the greatest threat - chopping merrily away like some bad, mad, butcher. The sniper crawled & bled & bashed away in return for all he was worth. "Moron's out of ammo," Das Boot muttered, "From now on it's only Elven snipers - who won't blow their wad on Emus." Suril Godanmarbok was down next to the sniper, missing a hand & weaponless, biting the axeman's ankles to even less effect. This axeman would win this one in his own good time.

Das Boot could hear the deceptive Gods of distraction goading him on "Gather up your hearts desire & jet you fool!" Yet there was one more bandit on this battlefield, & he was of Das Boot's own order, a monster truly to be feared. As Das Boot had done to their leader so now this lasher had done to Author SorO. Few bones unbroken remained to Author. Still he rolled & dodged in the mud & gore close to passing out. Das Boot would be next. This had to end now.

Das Boot: *tippy toe* Iron Whip->Arm *whack*

  The lasher loses hold of his Silver Whip! 

Das Boot's heart beat as never before! He tingled, he blushed, he jumped, he cried out in utter throws of ecstasy! It was real! It was there for the taking! There is true love in this world! IT WAS HIS!

Das Boot: "I loved you as a brother dear lasher. You were the chosen one of the silver order! My chosen one! I .. I .. I LOVE YOU!"
Lasher: "My arm! You bastard!" *bite*
Das Boot: Silver Whip->headshot *splat* "Not cool dude. No biting."

In short order Das Boot remade the axeman into a broken bloody mess, then pulled back to sit & admire his newest love. The axeman was now a gift for his companions to redeem themselves on. They took their time.

Das Boot: "Good job guys - take a day & a half to sleep it off. You too madam Unomanobint." 

And so our hero's story moves ever forward in ways uncertain, as the Gods above wield & weave & sow & reap our fates to the tune of cosmic melodies fair, foul, & too quickly forgotten. Perhaps the last is best, though the muses whisper of a bucolic bay in the fabled Land of Twelve where the tales of the great & small live on. Das Boot's tale was now in the hands of the Gods of distraction, emboldened by the rapturous beauty of the erstwhile Lord's consort. She now strides free by his side; but, to what ends? "TO BATTLE! TO GLORY!" the maid proclaims in earnest. Das Boot just nods & smiles, his fiery gaze fixed & mind bewitched to the silvery Athenian seductiveness she gracefully carries about her.

---

Yep, she's all that to me. Her description speaks for itself. ( Warning: Not Safe For Whatever. )
Oh dear Armok above have mercy on me. Dew Want! *Lust*Lust*Lust*

Moving on the party is rounded out with two more additional hires. "Arthor something or other" a pike swinging axeman ( um? ) that I have high hopes for. Another bright shiny new crossbowman/sniper with a full quiver and no other notable qualities - so unnamed ye remain. Oh & last but not least "Gimpy the Bronze Basher" my now ammo-less crawling ex-sniper, survivor of the crypt. He's a trooper alright.

You should know what i am going trough. ...

I hear ya bro. I'm sure this isn't going to end well here either. Clearly I've got some catching up to do.

TL;DR dwarf fortress is a tiny bit batshit.

For which we praise the The Great Toad and pass the blood splattered cave spider silk sock, amen!

... We found a bandit camp, ...

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. That's the idea! I know of three revealed bandit camps from casual conversation. Crypts are now on hold, let's see how the gang handles this. I'll have me that silver morningstar yet! Or a blood bath. It's all good.

More to come ...

Das Boot: "Yaddah, hello?"
Okgush Galirtal: "Greetings Das Boot, it is an honor to have finally met you, etc."
Das Boot: "You look like a mighty .. um .. what was that you do around here again?"
Okgush Galirtal: "I am sacred filth."

 

Wut?

Am I missing something here? Has this always been a profession? Do I need to bust out my Chaucer & do some catch up research or something? Why is this dude sitting in the local lord's throne room?

I think I feel safer back in the town river playing with amphibious men & trying to invade the sewers. At least *my* *name* is apropos. Screw your quest pal, I'm outta here.

"F.U.B.A.R."

Nothing special I admit but it's a classic.

Are you sneaking?