Bay 12 Games Forum

Dear Urist McDoctor,
I understand that you're new to the job. And I can understand you making a few mess-ups. But what I cannot understand is how you can mess up that badly. And of all people, our expedition leader?

I'm not mad enough at you to order you killed, but in exchange, you're going to have to explain to the guy that, while fixing a cut on his foot, you permenantly paralyzed him.

Signed,
A Baffled Overseer.

I was planning on creating a giant glass dome in which to build a self-sustaining fortress... at the bottom of the ocean. So, I embark with more than half the embark map centered over the water. We arrive in spring, so the dwarves stop the wagon at the beach, right?

Apparently, the climate was just cold enough to keep the ocean frozen long enough for my dwarves to park the wagon on it. A few minutes later, the ice melts, and by the time the game becomes responsive again, 6 dwarves are dead, as are all the animals. One is left alive, fishing in a pond on the beach.

I suppose any sort of venom or toxin. Punching skull shards through goblin brains is all well and good, but watching them stumble around in a puddle of sludge that used to be their skin seems a lot more unique and dwarfy in it's brutality.

Quote from: Samuel on January 11, 2011, 11:31:23 pm

Now, shall I use the boring old crossbow method, or drop a chunk of ceiling on his head?

The ceiling method of course.  You had to ask?

Actually, no, not really.

Dear Urist McGermophobe,
Sir, I declare that you do not know the meaning of true dwarfiness! Our military's work was both admirable, fantastic, and dwarfy: They literally coated an entire hallway in the blood of a single Giant Olm. A short, narrow hallway in the caverns, but I digress. Why would you do something so explicitly undwarf-like as cleaning up such a beautiful paint job?

You can go on about sanitary workplaces, and risk of infection, and the god-awful unbelievably bad smell, but I know what all this is really about.

When the elf caravan arrives in a couple months, feel free to leave with them.

Signed,
An Unamused Overseer

PS before you make up your mind to begin your tree-f***ing, you should probably be informed that the elves will be leaving the fortress through a drain designed to wash their water-logged and bloated corpses out of the trading room. See? That's how real dwarves do it.

What's the best trading item to make out of copper?

Dear Urist McPsychopath,

Dude, just... holy shit. I know he was elf, but... holy shit.

Ahem. Let me clarify. You were selected as my new militia commander- the only member of the military needed, as I was only sending you to kill elf merchants- because our previous militia commander was brutally injured by a kobold. You killed the first merchant perfectly, a single blow with your silver sword which tore apart his brain. The next one... well...

you tore apart his left lung, his liver, his right kidney, and his spleen. You also spilled his guts and tore numerous muscles in his torso and limbs. And you broke a whole bunch of his bones, too. Are you okay, Urist? do you need to talk to somebody about your anger sometime? I'm sure we could get you a therapist or something. Not me, though. You scare the shit out of me.

Signed,
Your terrified, if impressed, Overseer.

In hindsight, maybe boots are a more important part of a suit of armour then I thought. The guy I intended to be a one man army attacked a cave crocodile while waering full adamantine, sans footwear.

The crocodile bit both his feet off. I'm gonna need somebody new to wear the armour.