Bay 12 Games Forum

I like the sound of that. I'm envisioning a carbon freezing chamber for misbehaving nobles.

Carbon freezing? You'd have to do magma/water for that, I think. Still a workable idea, but if you intended to use the winter sky, then it's more of a flash-freezing chamber.

wait, that works? I thought vampires would leave their burrow to feed?

Mine never did. I even used burrow restrictions to save the life of a miner who fell asleep on a cavern floor once.

Would adding a no-eat no-drink no-sleep "intelligent" creature to the mix help alleviate the soul attribute atrophy?

Something that can talk, but has no corporeal needs, like a plump helmet man?

That would allow the child to converse, but prevent it from developing a friendship, since that only happens with dwarves.

Since we don't want plumpy to be a combattant, we could put 2 pen/pastures in the test chamber, one with the poultry, and another with plumpy on it. We could do the whole "good creature bad creature" thing with the child, and keep it socially adjusted while we reprogram its little mind.

I don't think that's really very workable. From what I've seen, the peacocks don't give a shit about activity zones in the cell. If I hadn't mercilessly slaughtered all of the animal people that had wandered through my fort, I might give it a try, but I don't think plumpy or any other animal person is likely to pay a whole lot of attention to the pasture. And even if they do, it adds complications to the setup - how do you repasture them if they leave the pasture area? How much space is correct, exactly? Stuff like that.

Finally, I doubt analytical ability is really something to worry about. The wiki informs me that it's only useful for stuff like Student, Animal Trainer, and the like. No child supersoldier needs it.

My latest major project has succeeded with only one dwarf death: one of my original seven, a legendary mason. I forgot about one of the deadly gas clouds, and forgot about a hole I had dug into my fortress that was temporarily open to the sky.

All things considered, however, only one death is pretty fantastic. A goblin ambush even interrupted the construction of the magma reservoir for a few moments, but that's why I stationed my axedwarves there. They annihilated the squad and the last wall was put in place swiftly.

Now all I have to do is place the landmine exits and wire up a delivery system. I shall be capable of incinerating any surface threat that comes my way. Muahahahaha!

I made it down to the caves under a terrifying glacier, but things started going south when I forgot to wall off the dump zone and a water buffalo skin attacked. We didn't lose any dwarves to that but it left everyone unhappy. Then it took too long to get to the caves; everyone complained of thirst. Finally, a helmet snake also died without killing anyone, and a cave crocodile sealed the deal by biting off a dwarf's hand before killing him. I just couldn't recover from the ensuing tantrum spiral/zombie apocalypse.

The only way to manipulate what the final product happens to be is to save and quit while the dwarf is working, then wait for him to finish and savescum if he didn't give you what you wanted.

Hawkchanneled, 6th Malachite, 202

I figured I ought to record the following tale for the mountainhome's engravers to enshrine. I'll send a letter to King Endoktishis with the next caravan.

Tulon Lifewheels, a natural-born hammerdwarf if I've ever seen one, arrived in the last migrant wave, earlier this spring. Her strong will was the first thing I noticed: she demanded to take a position on my squad - the squad that, so far, has only consisted of myself and my dear Ferria. The nerve! All the same, I granted her request and we began to include her in our training sessions. Ms. Wheelmoth made her a masterpiece of an iron hammer, and sparring was going well when, four days ago, we got a report of blind cave ogres in the caverns below.

Are we not dwarves? I told Ferria and Tulon. They affirmed that we were; so we entered the underground, massacred the ogres, and were returning to our sparring when we were ambushed by a cave crocodile.

The bloody thing went after Tulon. She only got one shot off on it, bruising its leg, before it siezed her left arm - the one holding her warhammer - and tore it off. She stumbled back, blocked a swing of its tail, dodged another, and punched it in the foot before backing away, clutching the bloody stump that had been her arm. Ferria and I destroyed the crocodile - I killed it with a shot to the head - and we looked around for Tulon. We don't have any hospital to speak of, and only one surgeon, so I thought she was probably going to bleed out and die. The thought was a terrible one. She had so much promise.

But then she poked her head around the corner. "Are you guys coming?" she said. "I'm getting some combat training together."

She had staunched the blood, picked up her warhammer in her right hand, and gone right on with her life as though nothing had happened.

For a moment I wondered if I had chosen the wrong lover.

Badass Pantcrypt, Expedition Leader of Hawkchanneled

Hawkchanneled, 8th Hematite, 202

Our little outpost continues to amaze the mountainhome with reports of our exploits. (Or so the traders told us.) I suppose the hunters are the ones telling tall tales to every passing dwarven adventurer; I've no time for spinning yarns. Oh, that reminds me: I recently sent both of our miners, who were temporarily jobless, to collect some of the masses of silk I saw down in the caverns.



Tradeclashed gets stuck in them occasionally on his hunting trips to the caverns, which have grown more frequent since we appointed Gildstop to carve bone bolts instead of requiring Tradeclashed to do it himself. The whole hunting business is pretty lucrative; I only worry that one of us might run into a giant cave spider down below. Stoney Silveryrun, our mason/mechanic, is attending a party that our cook, Messy, organized - instead of making cage traps in the caves like I asked him to.

We received two small groups of migrants. The first held Tradeclashed and two of his friends who came along from the Mountainhome. The second was a group of six that showed up in the fall shortly before the caravan. Ferria and I put all six of them to work - everything from butchery to bookkeeping. Armok knows we needed a paper pusher around here! Finally I actually have someone to count how many iron breastplates we have.

The others seem reluctant to wear them, though, even though I told them they're technically militia now. I've decided to make all of our civilians wear iron plate armor since it doesn't wear out nearly as fast as the clothes they're currently wearing. I should know; I've been wearing this bronze armor for the last year, and it's not showing any signs of wear.

Ah well, I'll take more drastic measures later. For now, I'm content to sit back and spar with Ferria, my lovely lover.

I suppose it was inevitable that we would fall in love. After all, we're the only two military dwarves in this entire silly jungle right now. She's a better fighter than I am, but other than that we're pretty equally matched. I can't wait to see how matched we are in bed.



...enough of that, this is supposed to be an official logbook and not my private journal. I may just strike that from the record... yeah... anyhow, we've set a date for the wedding and we'll be the first married couple in Hawkchanneled. It'll be an occasion to remember! I'll have Messy cook us a meal for it, and Glazemurders will brew us some wine.

I'm looking forward to the next migrant wave. The outpost liaison said we should get ten or more dwarves from the mountainhome in the spring; it'll be none too soon! Hopefully some of them will have some prior military experience. I know it won't be long until the goblins start to look hungrily in our direction, and we need more hands to work at weaving, mining, masonry, and hauling. Oh, Armok, the hauling... boulders everywhere... we just haven't had the time to move them all!

Well, everything in good time.

Badass Pantcrypt, Expedition Leader of Hawkchanneled