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Author Topic: The Hastening of Doomforests  (Read 228013 times)

Iamblichos

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #765 on: February 27, 2015, 06:53:00 pm »

... So.  There seem to be some continuity issues.

At what point, may I ask, did my hunter dwarf die and I get re-dorfed as a bone carving male speardwarf?  I go in expecting a fat female dwarf and instead:



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I'm new to succession forts in general, yes, but do all forts designed by multiple overseers inevitably degenerate into a body-filled labyrinth of chaos and despair like this? Or is this just a Battlefailed thing?

There isn't much middle ground between killed-by-dragon and never-seen-by-dragon.

Taupe

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #766 on: February 27, 2015, 07:10:12 pm »

It's the same dwarf, really.

Ghost possession: not even once.

Drazoth

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #767 on: February 27, 2015, 08:54:03 pm »

      3 sits at his desk, reading the journal left by 2.  Aside from obvious notes about what happened during his time here, there are notes about various spells here.  The one he used to conceal messages in his engravings, one to move unseen (noted not to work well when the ones you are hiding from use magic, or depend on other senses than sight), various mental wards (saving him the need to write to mother for information about those) and one other.  This last spell is far more complicated, and seems only partially developed.  3 decides to work on completing it later, turning back to his work on some schematics for the Sect.

      After a while, he notices his rum bottle is empty, and decides he could use a break anyway.  While on his way to the booze stockpile, he sees a group of dwarves wearing red gathered near a magma pit.  Deciding that this was a good a time as any to test his brother's spell, he touches some runes on a small amulet, which is attached to some string wrapped around his forearm, and mutters the incantation.  After he finishes, he looks at him self and sees that his body has turned transparent, and is tinged with the colour of the surrounding stone.  He then proceeds to move towards the group.  They the leader, whom he identifies as Mate the 888th, is spewing some nonsense about Armok.  'So, this is the Inquisition then.', he thinks to himself.  After noting the identities of the others he leaves, dispelling his concealment once it is safe to do so.

     After filling up the bottle and heading back to his chamber, he continues to work on the plans.  After a while he hears a muffled noise, guessing it to be TechnoXan's planned attack on the necromancers.  'He better have done a good job of pinning it on the Inquisition, or else my plans will be seriously damaged.'  Shortly after, he feels a strange surge of power, coming from deep with the fortress.  Then, massive amounts of demonic energy flood his senses.  "Shit, does that stupid corpse know what he's doing?  It seems his decay has already reached his brain!"  After ranting angrily for a while, he feels a strange presence in the room.  Looking at thing, he realizes that this is one of the things that Dark One summoned.  It did not seem to have a fixed shape, squirming and shifting into various shapes as he looked at it.  'So he doesn't know what he's doing then, just letting these things roam at random.  The fort must be in chaos now.  On the plus side, now I can work on completing 2's spell.'  Looking directly at the thing, he makes a strange gesture, and the creature quivers in fear as it senses the infernal power with 3.


       After some time, the spell has been finished, and 3 stands before the creature.  He lifts his hands and preforms a simple, sharp gesture, eyes glowing as he does so.  The creature dies instantly, is blood spilling on the floor.  3 dabs his finger in it, and uses it to draw some runes on a paper.  'While you took a good first step Dark One, you need to learn to focus your rage.  Let me show you how a real master retaliates.'  He touches the runes and speaks, quietly at first, but slowly getting louder, till he shouting.  As he speaks, his eyes glow blood red, growing brighter as he grows louder until a distant observer would think it was fire coming from his eyes.  Suddenly, he stops, and his eyes no longer glow.  'It is done.  Now those thing will only attack the inquisition, not everyone in the damned fort.'  He then takes out a paper, writes a quick message on it instructing the Dark One to meet him in the dining hall in Old DoomForests later that evening. He takes out a messenger and puts the letter in it, but does not release it.  Instead he puts it in his pocket and leaves the room, activating the concealment spell as he does so.
 
       Upon leaving he notices a helmet in front of his door, with a note on it from TechnoXan.  'So, he's found out about the special property of soap then.'  He pick the helmet up and takes it with him, hurrying to the Sect's base.  Before entering, he sends his messenger off on it's task and dispels the concealment.  Putting on the helmet as he enters, he tells TechnoXan that they need to talk.
[OOC]  Wow, this place is going to hell quickly, and we haven't even dug into the adamantine yet.  [/OOC]

Edit:  Made this less of a wall of text, changed parts I felt would interfere with what's going on to much and fixed some spelling/grammar errors.
« Last Edit: February 28, 2015, 12:35:34 am by Drazoth »
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Welcome to Doomforests, please, choose a cult of your liking or head to the overseers office to register your own cult. Religious freedom is pride of this fortress!

Iamblichos

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #768 on: February 27, 2015, 09:09:54 pm »

End of Obsidian, 1059

"Iamblichos?"  The old dwarf's face... Ezum, that was his name, Ezum Wheelscall... Ezum's face swam into focus.  "Drat, is this working?  Iamblichos, speak!  Gerzargra nemusht an, theithi dunu!"

"Gr... Ezum?"  His greyish face beamed immediately.  I glanced around and recognized the tower room I found myself in... though I didn't remember being here before.

"Yes, my boy, you've caused us no end of troubles, indeed you have!"  He didn't look particularly troubled.  As my memory returned, I remembered the burning lines of fire around me, compelling me to do... I scrambled back away from him.

"You bound me!  You made me... you..."  My mouth stopped working at the memories that surfaced.  I couldn't face... No.  I hid my face, shivering.  This room, the things I had done and seen in this room!

"Yes, yes, very sorry about all that, quite the error in judgement on our part.  I apologize, and I also apologize on behalf of Tikes.  We simply had no idea how strong you were!  Keeping you bound was just too expensive in the long run."  Sighing, he ran one hand over his beard.  "It was all Tikes' idea, really.  He thought you were like the other spirits.  Dead is dead, he said, and we should know!  Well, we didn't.  Know that is."  He made a sour face.  "Not the most convenient time to find out we didn't fully understand, but when is it ever?"

"Who is Tikes?  And why does everything go to shit every time I see you?  What did I ever do to you, anyway, or any of your... your undead friends?"  I was screaming, but couldn't help myself.  "I don't even know how I managed to possess this body!  If I had known I would be stuck in this mess I would have stayed dead!"

"That's quite enough."  Ezum lost his avuncular manner completely; his body language transformed.  Suddenly the powerful mage in him swam into focus, like a fish rising under the ice.  Or a shark, I thought sourly.  "I don't have all day to listen to this melodrama.  You didn't stay dead.  You are my descendant; more than you know, it turns out, or you wouldn't have been so damned resistant to the bindings that it took new blood every three days to hold you!  Unfortunately, you got all the will and none of the brains, it seems.  Stop whining and listen!"  He sighed and shook his head.  "Really, what passes for education these days is appalling.  Tikes Sprinkledtrampled is my teacher, the High Master of Sanctumcoal, and one of my oldest friends.  Sanctumcoal is of course, as you are clearly aware, a tower for the study of Life and Death.  A university, if you will.  We study the mysteries of the universe there, not least among them how to maintain independence from these wretched meddling so-called gods."

"So, why me?  And why am I free now when you had me bound before?"  More memories came back.  "Tikes is the... human?"

"Really my boy, do you listen to anything that is said to you?  Do your ears even work, other than as beard ornaments?  I told you not five minutes ago - your will was too strong.  The bindings we were using cost far too much to maintain in the long term.  We have decided to reach... other arrangements."

As usual when dealing with Ezum, I felt things spiraling completely out of my control and understanding.  "What sort of arrangements?"

"We still need Doomforests.  It's a wonderful place, its energy is excellent, its supply of dead is second to none, and it will irritate Gogol beyond reasonable measure for us to occupy it."  At the thought, the old dwarf grinned wickedly.  "We have decided that you will get a chance to run things.  The stick didn't work, let's try the carrot."

"Run... Doomforests?  Isn't there a vampire cult, and...?"

"Oh yes, it's wonderful.  Cults upon cults, more beasts, more dead things!  Really, if I didn't have so many responsibilities here I would do it myself!  It will be like the old days!  If you succeed, then you will be permitted to audition for a spot here.  Think how much magic we can teach you... really, it's so much better than those foolish little pamphlets you've been fiddling with; this is the real stuff, brandy to your weak beer.  What do you say?"

"I... "  What I wanted to say was 'absolutely not'.  Very much, I wanted to say that.  But even I know when to shut up sometimes.  My existence would be measurable in seconds if I turned down this offer; that was quite clear.  I was inside a necromantic fortress on the other side of the continent from my home.  Doomforests was a long, long walk from here.  "I... am overwhelmed, honestly.  That's a generous offer."

"Oh anything for a descendant of mine, my boy, anything at all!  Be proud to have you!"  As I had seen before, his face smiled and his eyes most emphatically did not.  He was watching me carefully, gauging my reactions.  "So, you will take the job?"

"I will try, g- grandfather.  Tell me what you need."  I prayed I didn't regret this.

"Excellent!  Most excellent!  Just a few simple things..." he replied.  This should prove interesting.
Logged
I'm new to succession forts in general, yes, but do all forts designed by multiple overseers inevitably degenerate into a body-filled labyrinth of chaos and despair like this? Or is this just a Battlefailed thing?

There isn't much middle ground between killed-by-dragon and never-seen-by-dragon.

Iamblichos

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #769 on: February 27, 2015, 09:30:08 pm »

No sooner had I assumed the command of this place, than a messenger informed me that Frankensteen had been observed muttering to himself in the crafting halls.  Sure enough, word came quickly:



Before he could grab the first item, another runner came screaming down the hall shouting that they had found a dead baby!



I almost felt sorry for the little bugger... but hey, this is what grandfather wanted to see I felt quite sure.

Speaking of children, I noticed one toddler heading at high speed towards a door set in the wall of the forges.  Following at a discrete distance, I trailed him.  He seemed to know exactly where he was going.  Along a ledge we went, open on the left to the bubbling magma.  At the end of the ledge, rough stairs led up into darkness.  I wondered if this was some secret meeting area, but when I arrived at the top I saw him standing and crying at a monument slab, set in front of a simple stone coffin.  When I asked around, I realized this was SkaiaMechanic's son, come to mourn at Skaia's final resting place.  Realizing this was a private moment, i withdrew.



Within a few days, Frankensteen's masterwork... so called... was complete.  He emerged from the workshop, bragging of his new slate amulet, "Touchbolt the Toe of Angels". 



The appraisers said it was barely worth classifying as an artifact.  I have assigned him to smooth the walls of the latrines for wasting Doomforests resources.  Construction has also begun on grandfather's playroom.

The elven merchants came and went, and Skaia II informed me that he bargained not only for fruits and berries, but purchased a grizzly bear and camel as well.  I'm sure the cooks will be pleased.

I have instituted a purge of the useless garbage that litters every surface in this place.  All the worn clothing, worthless rough stone and piles of garbage are being sorted through and the worst of it is being disposed of.  The halls are looking cleaner, but most importantly, the playroom is coming along nicely.  Soon the engravers will come.
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I'm new to succession forts in general, yes, but do all forts designed by multiple overseers inevitably degenerate into a body-filled labyrinth of chaos and despair like this? Or is this just a Battlefailed thing?

There isn't much middle ground between killed-by-dragon and never-seen-by-dragon.

SkaiaMechanic

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #770 on: February 27, 2015, 10:11:33 pm »

Congratulations to all - we have recreated Moria.  All the FBs are showing up because of our ad "Underground warren in need of Balrog - please apply within."

Pay attention, our current winged resident of flame and shadow makes his appearance now and then in the first cavern layer, destruction in its wake. However, due to being made out of fire it's gotten fairly beat up and lost at least one wing. Hurry if you want the glory of defeating it!

I use Moria as a base for creating fortresses. Who DOESN'T want a giant 5z-level hall filled with nothing but large pillars? I know I do! I even added the dangerous staircase over magma!

Also, it's amazing how many go out of the way to visit my tomb, while they rarely check in at all at the other memorial halls or statue gardens.
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I'm running out of dogs. I'm running out of bolts.
I'm running out of dwarves.

mate888

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #771 on: February 27, 2015, 11:32:06 pm »

Congratulations to all - we have recreated Moria.  All the FBs are showing up because of our ad "Underground warren in need of Balrog - please apply within."

Pay attention, our current winged resident of flame and shadow makes his appearance now and then in the first cavern layer, destruction in its wake. However, due to being made out of fire it's gotten fairly beat up and lost at least one wing. Hurry if you want the glory of defeating it!

I use Moria as a base for creating fortresses. Who DOESN'T want a giant 5z-level hall filled with nothing but large pillars? I know I do! I even added the dangerous staircase over magma!

Also, it's amazing how many go out of the way to visit my tomb, while they rarely check in at all at the other memorial halls or statue gardens.
Architects go there to see how to NOT build a safe tomb for both the owner of it and the workers building it.
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My second turn's unnoficial goal was to turn everyone into vampires, and it backfired so bad, I ended up making the fort a more efficient, safer and friendlier place.
Apparently they evolved a taste for everything I love and care about

Dark One

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #772 on: February 28, 2015, 04:07:08 am »

Journal of Dark One

Dream crawlers... I sensed a massive turning in energies. Whomever targeted thair next target, know that I spawned hundreds of thousands of them. One dream crawler is horrifying on its own.... one mind swarmed by thousands of dream crawlers... Maybe someone knows who started the war? I shake the raven rod, and hear the mutterings of demons. They repeat Mate.... Inquisition... Grunlaaa! Now I know who started the war! I'll strike the inquisition with all my wrath! Should I know earlier who attacked me, I wouldn't order demons to crawl in the whole fort! I grab a paper, cut my hand with carving knife and write. Then I raise a body part left from Urist's body, and set it to deliver the message.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I take the raven rod and mutter:

- OSHOS SPENKTROS UNTHARASHOI!!!

The earth starts to trumble, and poisonous vines start to grow on the walls. I feel a blow of warm wind. Dread ravens were spawned! I quickly order them to attack inquisition, saying:

- GRO CRUNATUS EXTREVT!

I order disciples to bring the bodies.... I don't have time for this! I translocate all bodies scattered in the fort (except Drazoth's predecessors) and they appear in my chamber. Then I mutter:

- PRONUX MANARE SHAY

The corpses start to shudder and move. I use the raven rod to translocate them to The Great Beyond, where they'll wait for the next order, when I'll summon them back. A few of them weren't raised. I plan to use them in different way. I order disciples to bring me the great axe blades and breastplates. I take a raven rod, and start to work furiously. I changed the hands of the corpses to axe blades, and reinforced their ribcage with metal plates. In the end, I used the carving knife to cut a power word on their skin, and raise them. I order disciples to patrol duty, planning to go myself. Each patrol group have one of these murder machines. I also equiped my disciples with carving knives, scrolls of torment and acid flasks. Now Mate will know why he fears the night! I go... to Inquisition hunt!

When I was going to exit the chamber, a bone messanger appeared. I won't go to my patrol, there are more important things to do!
« Last Edit: February 28, 2015, 04:09:48 am by Dark One »
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Iamblichos

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #773 on: February 28, 2015, 08:04:37 am »

My orders were clear.  Old Doomforests has been restored to its rightful glory.  The way is open, and once again we walk the halls we fought and bled for.

Bodies... bodies strewn everywhere.  Piles and mountains of bones and corpses, trolls and dwarves and goblins and elves... All we are missing is a tower, and a book.  The plan begins to grow clearer.

Summer is come.

(OOC: Not much else has happened of any importance.  The liaison refuses to leave until he can meet with the vampire mayor.  The mayor has been walled up in a room.  I am not sure whether or not to let him out to conduct his meeting, or what.  This could get ugly.  Roomcarnage, call your office.

Also:



Mostly dwarves have spent the past three months frantically hauling.  This place looks like a bomb went off in a meeting of Dwarven Hoarders Anonymous.  What the hell is wrong with you people?!)
« Last Edit: February 28, 2015, 08:31:09 am by Iamblichos »
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I'm new to succession forts in general, yes, but do all forts designed by multiple overseers inevitably degenerate into a body-filled labyrinth of chaos and despair like this? Or is this just a Battlefailed thing?

There isn't much middle ground between killed-by-dragon and never-seen-by-dragon.

Iamblichos

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #774 on: February 28, 2015, 02:06:24 pm »

Overseer's Records - Summer, 1060

I feared my ancestor's curses.  I have learned to fear his blessings.

Since I died, I have been focused on my goals to the exclusion of much else.  Perhaps this is the strong will Ezum spoke of... I do not know.  First I sought power; then I sought knowledge; then peace of mind; then freedom from fear.  Sometimes it seems all my life has been seeking.  What I had not done, until now, is paid much attention to my surroundings.  Doomforests is... broken.  There is something here which is tragic.  And not tragic in a great way, all blood and thunder and declaiming speeches while fighting dragons, but tragic in a lesser way... senseless death, pointless death, a death of carelessness, like the ignored scratch that festers and kills.  The word that best fits is SENILE.  Perhaps I cannot cure it... perhaps I can do nothing but watch while the slide into the abyss continues.  But I have determined to try.

My mission was simple.  Bring more living; prepare the dead.  Previous overseers have left the place a blasted ruin.  Words cannot express the all-encompassing devastation which prevailed in the upper halls.  I wandered, stunned, through the places I had thought I knew.  The walls dripped with moisture.  Fungus ran rampant down the unpolished stone.  The stench of rot and mildew was overwhelming.  The skittering of vermin was everywhere.  Every corner I turned revealed more wealth thrown carelessly in heaps, unsorted, unloved.  Statues and barrels, tables and clothes, stone blocks and buckets and medical equipment lay thrown in all directions, like a giant careless hand had flung the whole lot down in disgust.  A thick layer of dust lay over everything.  Huge hallways, thirty feet abreast, led nowhere.  Corpses filled the back part of the fortress, the front part, the area before the gates... dozens and dozens of corpses.  Elves and humans, goblins and trolls, fallen dwarves... all dusty, all rotted, all bones.  Only a few years ago, I would have fled in horror.  I would have been unable to bear the weight of all that mortality, the sense of approaching death.  Now, I know better.  Now I see the time in those bones for what it is: WASTE.  Appalling, senseless waste.  I told the few dispirited survivors here: gather this filth up and take it to the place I have prepared for it.  Grandfather showed me what to do. 

The cultists are among these dwarves, watching, skulking.  I see them.  They think themselves hidden, as if anything could hide here among this feeble pack of hardscrabble survivors.  They have found a new vampire somewhere, and once again elected him mayor; probably Osp, come round again for another try.  I will have to deal with that.  Dark One is the worst... he thinks I do not see him watching me.  He thinks I don't know.  Soon we will see who knows.  He tries to control things with his dream spirits, Ezum tells me.  Foolish dwarf.  The dead don't dream.  I see you.

***

Hematite, 1060

As summer began, a mason began to show signs of an approaching masterwork.  I recognized the signs.  We spoke over dinner; I made seemingly random small talk, dropping hints and whispers.  The next morning:



We shall see if my hints were successful.  Now for the bloodsucking mayor.



Well, that was easy.  The worst part about it is that the new vampire, though walled up in a hole, had completed the paperwork with the capital; the liaison waited for almost half a year to meet with him.  My efforts came too late:



This is why we can't have nice things here.  I hope the consequences won't prove too dire.  I have corpses to render.

Later:  My efforts were successful beyond my wildest dreams!  The mason produced a true masterwork... exactly what was needed.  Ezum will be pleased.  Not only was the altar completed, now the revival chamber is done as well.  The Gulf of Severity indeed!  Soon we shall see some good times here, it and I.



Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In the meanwhile, Skaia produced a masterwork commemorating one of the first elections in Doomforests:



Anguished corruption.  An apt name.  I think he is trying to say that he knew what was coming all along.

In the middle of the party in celebration of Skaia's masterwork, word came down that the tallboys were here.



Skaia was so drunk he could barely stand, but despite that managed to get us some lovely flour, cheese and other useful edibles in exchange for ragged old clothes.  Clearly Ezum is not the only magician in this place... I will never know how the traders do that.  Guild secret, I suspect.


Malachite, 1060

Busy, busy dwarves.  The chamber is almost complete.  Progress is being made on sorting the vast piles of detritus in the deep halls; I have begun marking some of the main fortress for reclamation.

The smiths in the foundry warn me that we are running dangerously low on iron ore.  Easily fixed, since hematite is everywhere here.  After some initial surveys and divinations, I determine where a proper vein is and order it mined out:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

That should last us for a bit.  While the miners were gathering their equipment I was told that one of the hunters... what?  He what?



I ordered him whipped.  That should prove instructive both to the hunters who make ridiculous excuses, and to those who carry tales about such foolishness.  All day, I get runners informing me of the most pointless information... who cares about the giant bat? 



It's in a cage, isn't it?  Would you like to be in the cage with it?  No?  Then shut up about the bloody thing!  The animal trainers are busy carrying useful items, unlike some dwarves who prefer to carry only tales and gossip!  Be off with you, and I'd better see something heavy in your hands the next time my eyes fall on you, or it's the hammer for you!

One runner brought some excellent news: MaxCat is a proud new mother, having given birth on the 23rd.



When I received word of that, I was standing in the main hall of old Doomforests, supervising the removal of a microcline block stockpile.  Shouting echoed down the tunnels from the north; I thought we were under attack for a moment, but then the words were repeated closer "Migrants to the north!"  At last!  More sacr inhabitants!  We gained 6 more sets of hands:



No useful skills to speak of, but more haulers are welcome with the task I've set myself.  The old dining hall has been cleared of rubble and items and cleaned.

Galena, 1060

I see that some of the previous overseers had a rather dark sense of humor.  I ordered the excess stone cleared from an area, and everyone began carrying the rocks this way and that like ants.  I saw them throwing stones into the magma from the bridge; a pleasant sight.  When I wandered closer and looked over the edge, however, I saw other dwarves far down the cliff face, throwing stones at random from a precarious walkway as magma flames and mist boiled up around them.  What the...?

"Stop, you idiots!" I shouted.  "What sort of thrice damned fool would stand on a little lip of rock right over the magma and throw a heavy boulder in it?  Are you all mental?"  A lot of sullen looks and mumbled answers later, I determined that a previous overseer had thought it would be "faster to get closer to the lava".  Noone is confessing to giving that order or remembering who did it.  I have my suspicions but regardless, I instructed everyone in no uncertain terms what would happen to the next dwarf I saw out on that damned ledge.

Later  I always find out too late.  Apparently I didn't stop the haulers in time.  The last census revealed a sad absence:



I have known Fikod since he got here last year.  Despite being thick as two planks, he wanted to be a good mason.  I ordered a memorial carved for him and put up on that stupid lip of rock that killed him; if I find out who designated that catwalk as a dump zone I will have them killed on the monument to consecrate it.

Work on grandfather's project is coming along well.  The area is prepared; emeralds were found in the making, which made me laugh; I used the largest flawless one as a focus for old times' sake.  I have processed almost a third of the dead of old Doomforests; the emerald glows already.  Soon.
« Last Edit: February 28, 2015, 03:01:50 pm by Iamblichos »
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I'm new to succession forts in general, yes, but do all forts designed by multiple overseers inevitably degenerate into a body-filled labyrinth of chaos and despair like this? Or is this just a Battlefailed thing?

There isn't much middle ground between killed-by-dragon and never-seen-by-dragon.

maxcat61

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #775 on: February 28, 2015, 02:16:16 pm »

Overseer's Records - Summer, 1060
Galena, 1060

I see that some of the previous overseers had a rather dark sense of humor.  I ordered the excess stone cleared from an area, and everyone began carrying the rocks this way and that like ants.  I saw them throwing stones into the magma from the bridge; a pleasant sight.  When I wandered closer and looked over the edge, however, I saw other dwarves far down the cliff face, throwing stones at random from a precarious walkway as magma flames and mist boiled up around them.  What the...?

"Stop, you idiots!" I shouted.  "What sort of thrice damned fool would stand on a little lip of rock right over the magma and throw a heavy boulder in it?  Are you all mental?"  A lot of sullen looks and mumbled answers later, I determined that a previous overseer had thought it would be "faster to get closer to the lava".  Noone is confessing to giving that order or remembering who did it.  I have my suspicions but regardless, I instructed everyone in no uncertain terms what would happen to the next dwarf I saw out on that damned ledge.
... Would you feel better if I told you that I put a dump zone there to get rid of rotting fish? We were having a maisma problem for a while.
BTW, remember to expand the refuse room. It is a little small.
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You can't make an omelette without melting a few dwarves...
The purple overseer hat weights heavily on one's head. Some would argue that the leadership of Doomforest is uneasy to bear for too long. Others would simply suggest that we don't craft the next overseer hat out of rutile.

Iamblichos

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #776 on: February 28, 2015, 02:53:22 pm »

... Would you feel better if I told you that I put a dump zone there to get rid of rotting fish? We were having a maisma problem for a while.
BTW, remember to expand the refuse room. It is a little small.

LOL... no worries, didn't mean to call you out.

Congratulations on the new arrival!
Logged
I'm new to succession forts in general, yes, but do all forts designed by multiple overseers inevitably degenerate into a body-filled labyrinth of chaos and despair like this? Or is this just a Battlefailed thing?

There isn't much middle ground between killed-by-dragon and never-seen-by-dragon.

mate888

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #777 on: February 28, 2015, 06:32:23 pm »

Journal of Mate the 888th, Chief Inquisitor of Doomforests
A... Hand just crawled to me, carrying a note. It was a rotten, green hand from some dead dwarf. The content of the note was not calming at all.
"You'll pay in blood, Inquisitor"
I don't know what I did, but if this necromancers want to stand aganist the might of Armok, God of Blood, then so be it. If they want a war, they shall have one.
"Likot, throw that hand into the magma so it doesn't come back to rip our faces off."
Likot grabbed the hand and left, disgust in her face.
"Kogan, you see that disgusting brown trail of blood that the hand left?"
"Y-yes?"
"Good, follow it silently. This necromancers may have been stupid enough to send a rotten, bleeding and pus-squirting hand at us, but that doesn't mean that they'll be guarding the entrance to their pagan temple"
Kogan left, he was a swift and sneaky dwarf, he would most probably be fine.
Then, I called Mothram into my office.
"Yes, sir?"
"Have you found any information of possible cultists?"
"Not much, Inquisitor, but I think I know of one who has a high rank in the necromancer sect. Dark One."
"Hm, the guy who married a vampire. I always knew he was up to something. If the vampire lover is with the necromancers, then they must be affiliated with the vampire cultists."
"Most probably. Also, even though we still don't know much about the crundle hunters, we have rumors of another known dwarf being part of a cult, even if we don't know wich"
"Who?"
"Drazoth III"
"My cousin?" [OOC: Mate the 888th was a cousin of Drazoth I, so, yeah, he would be also releted to all the other Drazoths[OOC]
"Apparently. But we don't know if it's true. We've only heard rumors."
"Keep an eye onto him. We have to be more cautious with Dark One, though. He is a dangerous dwarf and we must be cautious about him"
*The following lines are illegible, like if ink had covered all of the page*
WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!*illegible* MONSTERS! *covered in a strange blue substance, now dry*.
Oh, Armok almighty. I need to write to calm myself. Allright. After finishing talking with Mothram, we heard a scary noise. Like the cry of a crow, but somehow... Off. Like if something else was controlling it. Then that MASSIVE FUCKING BIRD (actually the size of a big kobold, but that's still huge for a raven) came out of FUCKING nowhere and TORE MOTHRAM'S RIGH EYE OFF HIS FUCKING SOCKET!
I kicked the thing in the face, and then three more of those things appeared!
Luckily the first one let Mothram's unconcious body when I kicked it, but Mate the 890th, my terrified son attracted the other demonbirds!
I had one bird trying to eat me and three birds trying to eat my son! Thankfully, Likot, Kogsak (aka Mate the 892nd, the emergency heir) and Kulet, another priest, came quickly when they heard the screaming and helped.
Mate the 892nd stabbed one of the birds in the throat with his spear, the bird disappeared covering the spear in some blue blood thing.
The bird coming towards me scratched my right leg, hurting it badly, I grabbed its head and smashed it into my table, smearing my diary with his blue muck, then I rushed to my hammer and struck it in the chest when it started flying, sending it backwards before disappearing.
The other bird's beak was kicked in by Kogsak, effectively dying, and the other had its wings cut off by Likot and Kulet. It disappeared, as the other crows, but the severed wings remained where they were.
"Likot, Kulet, go outside and hang then wings in a pole in the middle of the hallway. Use their blood to write a note saying 'You can't kill the inquisitors.' And for Armok's sake go do something with Mothram's eye! It's... Why are you looking at me like that?
"Your leg..."
"What's wrong with my-- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH GODS!!!!!! IT HURTS!!!! AAAAAAAH! FUCK THOSE NECROMANCERS! THEY WILL DIEEEEEEE! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU RETARDS!? TAKE ME TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!
Then everything turned black. I woke up in the hospital, 2 hours later. Kogan was still out following the trail of ugly rotten fluids that came out of the zombie hand, or he was dead. I had thirty stiches in my leg. 15 in the skin and 15 in the muscle.
When I got back to the headquarters of the Inquisition, I talked to Mate the 892nd/Kogsak.
"This is the first attack we recieve, Kogsak. Even though we wanted to stay out of the sect war, waiting until both cults destroyed one another, we have been attacked, with no reason at all, by some demon birds sent by the necromancers."
"They are afraid of us. They can't allow Armok worshippers like us to gain strenght, as they know we would destroy them."
"You may be right, Kogsak, but until then, we are fairly weak. I'm afraid we can't fight the pagans alone."
"But who will help us? The vampire cultists  are surely allied with the necromancers, and we know virtually nothing about the Crundle Hunters!"
"We know one thing, and that they don't seem to worship any demons or strange gods. And to what rumors say, they are not in good therms with the necromancers. If we can contact them we may gain an ally"
"But how?"
"Easy, we sent one of our guys to the cavern entrance, to wait for one of the hunters to go out. When he sees one, he will follow him at a safe distance, so that neither the hunter nor the crundle detect him. Then, he will tail the hunter back to his base once he has finished hunting. When he reaches their base, he will try to sneak in and talk with some authority figure, to give him our proposition. It's risky but it may work."
"And who may go follow that hunter? We still have to wait for Kogan to return alive and safe."
"Oh, my beloved adoptive son, it will be you."
"ME?!"
"It sounds weird but hear me out. If I sent some dispensable dwarf, like Likot or Kulet, they would surely belive that I sent him to spy. But if I sent someone dear to me, like you, they will know that I send you hoping that no harms comes upon you, hoping to speak as a reasonable dwarf."
"It sounds like a plan."
"Then go."
"Wha-- Like, now?"
"Yes, we don't know when do the hunters venture into the caves to hunt, so if you stay near the entrance more time, the most likely they'll be to show up when you are watching. Still, carry a small weapon, like a dagger or something hard to detect, since we can't be sure that they won't be hostile."
"As you wish."
Then, he went to the entrance of the caves, and I stood waiting for Kogan to return. Hoping that he would be sneaky enough to not be detected by the necromancers or any of their creatures.
Oh, and Old Doomforests has been reclaimed. I'll tell all of my followers and every person in the fort who follows Armok to be cautious up there.
Logged
My second turn's unnoficial goal was to turn everyone into vampires, and it backfired so bad, I ended up making the fort a more efficient, safer and friendlier place.
Apparently they evolved a taste for everything I love and care about

SkaiaMechanic

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #778 on: February 28, 2015, 06:46:58 pm »

... Would you feel better if I told you that I put a dump zone there to get rid of rotting fish? We were having a maisma problem for a while.
BTW, remember to expand the refuse room. It is a little small.

LOL... no worries, didn't mean to call you out.

Congratulations on the new arrival!

No no, there should have been 4 dump zones into the lava. Maxcat did two of them, including the bridge, I did the other two, which is on the path to my tomb (since I carved that out) and close to the Military Training Room. I linked up a faster path by building a floor there. I also re-activated the old dumping zone in Astville as well, since it didn't make sense to dump things from there up all those stairs when it's bordering another lava pit. But yeah, I think it was my fault for the two deaths into the lava. I didn't know they could get burned like that! I just figured an engraver dodged out of the way of another dwarf and fell in accidentally, since she was a legendary engraver and was working on that path anyways. I thought I was just making it easier to dump stuff. Whoops!

Speaking of Astville, you might want to improve the staircase down there, due to my accidentally ordering each floor dug out but without the staircases. Otherwise, the space does lessen any traffic a bit, and you should have enough on your plate simply cleaning the place up, especially since you took on the challenge of cleaning Old Doomforests. There was a reason so many people dreaded opening up the path. Salmeuk talked about a dump shaft from Old DF to New DF to make it easier to move items, but I didn't see it anywhere obvious.

And ANOTHER artifact coffin! Where do these dwarves keep getting their inspiration from?

Logged
I'm running out of dogs. I'm running out of bolts.
I'm running out of dwarves.

mate888

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Re: Doomforests - Where Swords can be Hatchets (if they really want to)
« Reply #779 on: February 28, 2015, 08:57:54 pm »

Kogan, the priest of Armok, kept following the trail of rotten blood that the zombie hand had left. It went all the way to the recently reclaimed Old Doomforests.
He went silenlty as a shadow throught the dark corridors and abandoned hallways, until he found a relatively new door. He looked at it from a distance before he saw a dwarf come out of it. It was Urist. He knew him. But he looked... Off. Like he was walking while asleep.
And he had a hand missing.
Urist looked at his direction and opened his mouth but he didn't speak. He just gave a loud moan before shambling at him. Kogan ran away before the rest of the cultists got out of the room they were in. He hoped nobody went to chase him, but it was a long way to the main fort.
Logged
My second turn's unnoficial goal was to turn everyone into vampires, and it backfired so bad, I ended up making the fort a more efficient, safer and friendlier place.
Apparently they evolved a taste for everything I love and care about
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