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Author Topic: The Hastening of Doomforests  (Read 221125 times)

TechnoXan

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Oh yeah, I just Pmed Ethan on that. Oops!  :) Oh well I am the head engineer.  :D    But yeah that's a high priority for the sect.
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By the by, if your wondering why I use so many smiley faces, its because I smile a lot when I talk. So I use them here so I don't come off the wrong way.


And so it begins...
OPEN THE GATES!

Iamblichos

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Iamblichos' Journey, Part II: Necromancin' Ain't Easy

"Come along, my boy, come along," Ezum said insistently.  "You wouldn't want to linger behind.  You won't like it if you meet what lives here, no indeed, you won't like it at all."  Ezum's apprentice Uquur snickered softly and shook his head. 

"So we are here to look at a book?  I didn't think they read much in... places like this.  What IS this place, anyway?"  Iamblichos hated the way the walls here seemed to suck up sound.  They had been walking for several hours through the ruins of a massive fortress.  Vines climbed over the mounds of fallen rubble, but the broad streets were still open.  An eerie quiet filled the city; there were no birds or insects, only the whistling of the constant wind as it blew past the exposed stones.

"My boy," came the exasperated reply, "you simply don't listen.  This is... was... the ancient fortress of Terrorsplattered.  Huge place, very impressive in its day!  I remember... well.  Take my word for it; this place was quite central at its time.  Terrorsplattered and its sister fort Planesseduced to the north were the bulwarks of the goblin kingdoms of the south!  They were rumored to be unbeatable."

"What... happened?" 

"Well, rumor was wrong, as it almost always is.  Local human kingdom rounded up an enormous army under the banners of the Nation of Scrubbing - clean name for a dirty bunch."  Ezum snickered.  "They destroyed both forts almost six hundred years ago.  Nothing here now but pleasant memories."

"So... nothing lives here now?  It's not like the humans to leave a site unoccupied, despite how it feels here."  Iamblichos looked around uneasily.  "What does cause it to feel like this, anyway?"

"Well!"  The old dwarf looked pleased.  "You are improving!  It only took two hours to get the first decent question out of you!  That, my boy, is why we are here."  The old dwarf stopped and looked like he was going to start a lecture on the spot.  "Terrorsplashed, in addition to many other things to recommend it, was founded by a... being... named Cim Gristlecobras.  Not only was this city..."  Ezum's lecture was suddenly interrupted by a quiet hissing from his apprentice Uquur.

Uquur said softly "Master, that name should not have been spoken here.  The walls remember.  The watchers come." 

The first sound Iamblichos had heard for hours started in the ruins around them.  There was a muttering sound that slowly grew in intensity.  Far off in the distance, unseen trolls hooted in alarm; there still seemed to be some denizens, though they had seen no signs of habitation since entering the ruins.  As the sound got louder, some of the rubble began to shift, tiny stones rattling down into the street from the ruined buildings to either side.

"Blast!  I should have... well, no matter.  You do the blue shield, I will take red, and we'll cut left at the next intersection.  We ought to be near the entrance anyway.  There's enough material here to raise an army, but raising anything at the front door like this would cause more trouble by far than we could handle ourselves."  They scurried forward, the human bent almost double to fit under the dwarf-sized wards.  The blue and red spheres overlapped to form a shifting violet light.  Strange shapes had risen from the rubble, looking almost like goblins but made of ghostly flickering almost-there shadows.  They were like the figures visible in dreams; not there, then very there, then gone again.  The violet light seemed to render the group invisible, but the almost-goblins drifted down from the rubble on every side.  Soon they were taking two steps to the side for each one forward, trying to work their way around and through the swelling crowd.

"Enough.  Feh, bloody ghosts.  Here.  Go left, and then down the steps.  Quick, my boy, keep up... can't make the bubble any bigger, I'm afraid, come along."  Yawning open in front of them was a stairwell leading down into the rubble-strewn depths.  Something about it seemed familiar to Iamblichos.  He knew he'd never been here, even in a dream.  This was beyond anything he had ever imagined.  Still, there was something... It looked like something he had seen recently.

"The slab!"  Iamblichos blurted out, immediately clapping a hand over his mouth.

"What?  What are you babbling about?"  Ezum looked over, and then comprehension dawned.  "Oh.  Yes, very good!  You got there eventually.  Yes, these stairs are made of slade, which is what the slab is made of as well.  Well done.  Not a material that appears on this plane, save by supernatural means.  If you see it, and you aren't dead already, you have an excellent chance of dying within the next sixty seconds."  Ezum sighed and worked his shoulders.  "Uquur, we will drop the shields once we get on the stairs.  I will need all my energy at the bottom.  Have the bottle ready."  The apprentice nodded and fell back, guarding the rear as they descended into the depths.

"Here."  Ezum stood in front of a scowling face made of slade, its hair streaming out like it was being forced out of the wall at high speed.  Its eyes were closed, and its face contorted into an expression that looked like it was in horrible pain.  "Now this will be delicate.  Bottle, please."  Urquur passed over a flask that sloshed heavily; Ezum opened the flask and chanted a short sentence, splashing the fluid inside onto the face.  Blood ran down the features.  He chanted again, splashed again.  As this continued, the eyes on the face opened.  In all his life Iamblichos had never beheld such a hate-filled expression.  Whatever this thing was, it wanted very, very badly to kill them... to kill HIM, especially, since it could tell that he was still alive in a way that they other two weren't.  The mouth slowly opened with each chanted phrase, wider and wider, far wider than any creatures mouth should open.

"Cthruk, cthruk, cthruk, ek hnugmur mnambuspu!"  With a final flourish, Ezum poured the last of the blood directly into the middle of the now open doorway, on the flagstone that (minutes before) had been a tongue.  The eyes still glared down impotently, wishing destruction on them all.  On the other side of the face, a perfectly normal corridor led down at an angle, torches burning - a view that was remarkably unnerving for its pure ordinariness.  "Well, come on, either it worked or it didn't."  Ezum hustled off down the corridor.

"What worked?  What do you mean if it didn't?"  Iamblichos scampered behind his ancestor, Uquur bringing up the rear again.

"There are beings here that could slaughter us like puppies; the formulae that I just used should prevent that.  Oh look, here's one now.  Been here before.  Worked that time, no reason to think it wouldn't work again."  They trotted past a headless statue carved of some unknown metal, every edge of its body terminating in razor-sharp blades.  It didn't move.  "Looks like I remembered it right, doesn't it?  Excellent.  Now, let's go have a look."

"So what does that demon have to do with all this?" 

"Well, as I was saying upstairs, when Cim built this fortress, he included this place; a demonic vault where he stored all his knowledge.  He's quite dead, died in the war; but all this,"  the old dwarf waved his hand vaguely, "is still here.  His notes are still here as well.  Invaluable resource for these difficult questions."

"Notes?"  Iamblichos was used to feeling lost during his ancestor's piecemeal explanations, but this was a good one even by Ezum's standards.

"And here we are!  Now, just do us all a favor and shut up for a bit, would you?"  The old dwarf muttered as he approached a casket made of the omnipresent slade.  He pressed a few of the symbols carved there, and the top lifted up.  Two of the adamantine statues stood on either side of the chest, and Iamblichos watched the old dwarf very gingerly lift the book stored in the chest.  The sideways glance at the statues was almost too quick to catch, but Iamblichos saw it. That look scared him more than anything else.  The old dwarf was putting on a game face, but Iamblichos knew that showing any emotion at all meant that the old necromancer was terrified.

"Yes... yes... emu-demons, ostrich demons, flame fiends, werebeasts..."  Flip-flip-flip went the pages.  "Oh THAT'S a juicy bit of gossip, hadn't seen that before..."  Ezum was near the middle of the book now.  "How to forge bronze colossi... would still love to have that formula, but where the hell would I get a slade foundry... Ah, slabs.  Demon-made, pre-existing, god-forged... Excellent.  Yes, yes... Yes... we know that, yes... "  The old dwarf dropped the book heavily on the chest and cursed.  He looked like he was going to have a temper tantrum; his undead face turned as purple as a beet.  He closed his eyes and said "We. Are. Fucking. Idiots."

Whipping around, Ezum announced "Right," he said, "let's go."

Uquur said "Master, may I...?"

"Yes, of course, sorry, I forgot you had questions too.  You have ten minutes, then we're leaving.  No index; if I remember correctly, breeding animal-human hybrids is covered near the back.  Be quick."  Uquur dove into the text while the old dwarf glared at Iamblichos.  Sighing, he spoke.

"Well, the solution to your problem is both glaringly obvious and soul-crushingly simple.  It's obvious that Tikes and I are just not thinking clearly.  You aren't in your body any more.  You won't fit in there any more.  Fine.  It needs to be with you while you read.  You have to consume it, and then it should all work properly."

"Consume... what?"  Iamblichos could scarcely believe his ears.

"Back you go to Doomforests, and bring your original corpse to Sanctumcoal!  We'll handle the rest!"
« Last Edit: March 23, 2015, 03:28:52 pm by Iamblichos »
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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Well, it seems that I'm missing. Wich would be bad if it wasn't so good. That actually helps a lot with the faking my own death thing. So, Ethan, could you name any random male miner or mason (preferebly mason) as Mate the 888th and change his profession to "Chief Inquisitor"? Thanks.
Also, if you could rename "Hero"'s profession to "Emergency Heir" that would be nice, too.
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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

Ethan741

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Somewhere in a forgotten glade.



"RISE FROM YOUR GRAVE"



Spoiler (click to show/hide)

“IT IS I, OLNEN THE WISE! I COMMAND YOU TO-”

The prone figure let out a dirt-muffled scream.

“I COMMAND YOU TO-”

The figure spat out the mud, and began to scream louder, now mixing in some very colorful words into the screams, now resembling a combination of a frightened toad and an old man rather than a corpse.

“I-”

The figure rolled over and sat up, still cursing at the very wind itself, shaking his fists, and slurring something about about not honoring his death properly, and how they didn’t even send him off with mummified whores.

The voice audibly sighed, and drew in breath for a mighty shout.

“MOTHERFUCKER, LISTEN.”

The not-corpse went near-silent, as he still muttering about memorial stones, and how he wanted to be cremated, and his ashes fed to the pompous mayor. You know, old people stuff.

“I COMMAND YOU TO STAND, REVENANT OF MY WILL.”

The figured grumbled and stood up. “Revenant? Is that the best you could come up with?”

The voice chose to ignore him.

“YOUR TIME HAS COME AGAIN. YOUR DEPARTURE FROM THE WORLD WAS PREMATURE-”

“Oh was it now?” The now standing figure interrupted.

“YES, YES IT WAS.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“YES IT WAS!”

“No, it wasn’t!”

“YES IT- FORGET IT, AS THE EMBODIMENT OF THE CONCEPT OF WISDOM ITSELF, I THINK I KNOW A LITTLE BIT MORE ABOUT FATE THAN YOU DO, REVENANT!”

“My name is Et-.”

“I KNOW THAT! LOOK, SOME ASININE DEVIL WORSHIP IS GOING ON HERE, AND SINCE YOU WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR SOME OF THE TERRIBLE SHIT THAT OCCURRED IN THESE VERY HALLS, I THINK IT’S YOUR JOB TO GO AND SORT IT OUT. SIMPLE ENOUGH?”


Ethan stroked his black, mud-caked beard, and briefly thought about whether giving this thing another go was worth it or not.”

The voice however, didn’t have the luxury of time.

“WELL?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“NO.”

“Well then why did you bother asking?!”

“ARE YOU GOING TO DO THIS OR NOT?”

“What is it even that you want me to do?!”

The voice let out another sigh, shaking the trees and spraying sand everywhere.

“YOU REALLY ARE DENSE, AREN’T YOU? LOOK, IT’S BECOMING INCREASINGLY OBVIOUS THAT YOU NEED HELP. LOOK FOR AN ENGINEER WHO CALLS HIMSELF “XAN”. GO INTO HIS OFFICE AND RIFLE THROUGH HIS DRAWERS. YOU’LL FIND A LETTER FROM YOURS TRULY. IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO THEN, THIS PLACE REALLY IS FACING DAMNATION.”

And with a flourish of wind, the voice dissipated into the air. Ethan wasn’t very impressed. After all he’d seen, he’d rather get back to being face down in the dirt, enjoying an eternal rest. Suddenly, all of the aspects of being in the mortal realm once again slammed into him all at once. Staggering a bit, the dwarf clutched his many wounds, confused as he had long since forgotten what pain was. The first of which, was his teeth. Half of his teeth have been pried out! That bastard wisdom god hadn’t even fixed any of his wounds! Oh well, it’s probably not going to be that big of a deal.

Ethan trodded and staggered through the mud back to Doomforests. Or at least, as he remembered it. There was a lot more… Blood… And dead crundles than he remembered. As he walked through the crumbling archway through the walls, he noticed various bits of goblins, hanging on chains from the top of the parapets.

“How long have I been gone?” He muttered to himself, admiring the various dead things lying about. He briefly considered if the “wisdom god” would “fix” them as well.
As he walked into what used to be the main hallway, he braced himself for the sudden influx of dwarves… but no one came to greet him. The halls were utterly empty. He walked about the workshops, all empty, except for a few rats. This was rather… foreboding. Wandering aimlessly, Ethan suddenly remembered where the dwarves used to congregate. The old dining hall, genius! As he walked up to the massive stone doors, he flung them open, and was greeted by… A bunch of empty tables, and an elderly dwarf, huddled alone in the corner. Ethan looked at the dwarf, feigned a smile, and proceeded to speak. “Hello there! Would you by chance know where- why are you staring at me like that?” The dwarf, mouth agape, was pointing at Ethan, seemingly unable to say anything. “What, is it my clothing? My hair? The smell? Say something!” After the dwarf kept staring and pointing in abject terror, Ethan finally decided to inspect himself. It was at that moment, Ethan realized that the entire front side of his throat was missing, and there was a goblin short-sword sticking out of his torso.

Boy, it’s good to be back.
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Ethan741

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Well, it seems that I'm missing. Wich would be bad if it wasn't so good. That actually helps a lot with the faking my own death thing. So, Ethan, could you name any random male miner or mason (preferebly mason) as Mate the 888th and change his profession to "Chief Inquisitor"? Thanks.
Also, if you could rename "Hero"'s profession to "Emergency Heir" that would be nice, too.

I'll change everything right away!

In the event the "emergency heir" dies, you do have a lost bastard son, right?

...Right?
« Last Edit: March 23, 2015, 09:54:37 pm by Ethan741 »
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PsychoAngel

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Somehow I feel I have contributed the most to the lore of Doomforests without so much as lifting a finger. First I make loads of soap, you guys obsess over it, and now there's a battle between necromancers and inquisitors, which was kind of a joke when I proposed it. Just what have I done to Doomforests? You guys really make my day sometimes during journal entries.

I will be writing a lot of in-character lore when Psycho II moves in. In one of the migrant waves, we must find a suitable candidate and dub him "Psycho II" and make his profession "Health Inspector". He will do only cleaning and soap-making, and will be tasked with cleaning up the place, no matter the dark secrets he discovers. Our dramatic plot thickens to a nice stew, my friends. Hopefully our shenanigans won't cause the death of everyone in the fort.
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Our forward thinking overseer at the time devised a way in which werebeasts can live in peace with other dwarves by utilizing the mysterious magical properties of soap!

Quote from: PsychoAngel on January 19, 2016
Don't worry. I've got extremely volatile exploding fish.
My friends and I say a lot of fun things to each other.

Iamblichos

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Honestly, I'm just riffing on what I find in Legends mode... Although I was disappointed nobody reacted to the playroom  :D
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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.

TechnoXan

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Playroom? Also really liked your post.  :)

EDIT: Oh! Good idea!!  :D
« Last Edit: March 24, 2015, 08:25:04 pm by TechnoXan »
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By the by, if your wondering why I use so many smiley faces, its because I smile a lot when I talk. So I use them here so I don't come off the wrong way.


And so it begins...
OPEN THE GATES!

mate888

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Well, it seems that I'm missing. Wich would be bad if it wasn't so good. That actually helps a lot with the faking my own death thing. So, Ethan, could you name any random male miner or mason (preferebly mason) as Mate the 888th and change his profession to "Chief Inquisitor"? Thanks.
Also, if you could rename "Hero"'s profession to "Emergency Heir" that would be nice, too.

I'll change everything right away!

In the event the "emergency heir" dies, you do have a lost bastard son, right?

...Right?
Well, there still is Mate the 890th (aka "Last Heir"), but if not I guess I have lots and lots of cousins that could be renamed after me.
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

Iamblichos

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Playroom? Also really liked your post.  :)

I built a playroom in the fort.  Was expecting at least a comment :)
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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.

Ethan741

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Oh jeez, it's a lot slower than I remember. Thiiiis is gonna take awhile.
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Drazoth

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Never saw a playroom.  Care to tell us where you put it?  To ethan: Now you know why I could only do half of my turn.  Part of why I shut down some useless industries was the hope it would speed things up a bit.  That, and the hope that all the stuff marked for dumping would finally be dealt with.  Nice post by the way.
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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!

TechnoXan

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Is fps really really bad? Anyone think we should do/think about doing some dfhack garbage removal? I've never done it but wouldent it speed up gameplay? I'm just thinking out loud here by the way.  ;)
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By the by, if your wondering why I use so many smiley faces, its because I smile a lot when I talk. So I use them here so I don't come off the wrong way.


And so it begins...
OPEN THE GATES!

Iamblichos

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It wasn't too bad on my turn... nothing on Shadowgrave *shudder*
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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.

Drazoth

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Yeah it was bad.  It varied a bit for me because I was using my laptop (I don't have any other computers, any that would be more powerful anyway).  When plugged in I could get about 30 FPS at best.  Unplugged it was closer to 15, though it dropped down to 3 when there was a lot of cancel spam happening.  As for DFHack, I used it to clean vomit but that's about it. If Ethan wants to do as you've suggested I won't mind.
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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!
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