Smithbridges, year 191:
Dumping, Dumping, Dumping
“Well, I don't even... What is going on? After the fire, the searing pain when my skin peeled off, turning to ashes, and my flesh burned away, everything went dark. Nothingness. I suppose I was headed off to the Dark Halls of Vesh Ghostphantom. I was... Dead? But then a tug. Something pulled me, everything became a blur. And now... Now I'm back at Smithbridges. Looking around me, I'm in the library. Yet I feel smaller, shorter. No. This can not be. I am within the mind of a child. A six year old boy. I can feel he has a connection to Vesh. Ah, this is Melbil Ivorypages - the son of Erib Dentedtower the stoneworker - a worshipper of Vesh. I can see through Melbil's eyes, yet I can not control him. Now I understand. I think. Vesh has sent me to watch and observe Smithbridges, guide the citizens from beyond the grave for one year. I must get to work - I have little time and there is much to do.”Melbil had an odd feeling. As if there was something weird going on. Maybe it was the meal he just ate? It was not such a great meal. The child shrugged and continued playing, oblivious to the fact that the deceased 'Brewer Bob' was within his body, watching closely over the going ons of Smithbridges.
It was still the first of Granite when once again Smithbridges was pestered by the hordes of the Necromancers.
The alarm rang.
Dwarves began rushing to safety as the militia grouped up to face the menace.
The Wolves of Alnos wasted no time and headed to destroy windows made from cut gems before continuing towards the bridge.
Wait, what? How?
By the gods above and below! What madness is this!?
Who has left an unguarded passage to the surface, allowing an easy access into our tombs and fortress!? There will soon be more souls entering the Halls of Vesh if this isn't dealt with immediately!
Oh, no-no-no-NO! Most of them are heading straight to the stairs!
The military heads for the catacombs as swiftly as they can with Ďteb the Militia Commander in the lead.
The battle begins in the Fated Temple as a Couplesinks' Beast bursts through the catacomb doors.
It is swiftly put down, but there are more to come.
The rest of the military is ordered to come to aid. This is where the siege will be broken.
The squads rush into the narrow corridors of the catacombs to fight off the invaders before they manage to defile the sanctity of those who are entombed.
Queen Kumil is among the ranks of the warriors, hoping to bolster their morale this way.
The catacombs are soon cleared and the dwarves began to make their way to the surface to take care of the rest of the enemies. And indeed, they are of no match to the dwarves.
The siege is lifted.
Fortunately this was a rather small one, and there were next to no casualties on the dwarves' side.
Trash. Trash everywhere.
Dwarves! I command you to throw all of your tattered possessions into the Atom Smasher. This place needs a serious cleanup.
Quite fascinating. Ustuth seems very fond of his hood made out of troll fur - no wonder it is showing some wear.
Maybe it is for the best that this piece of clothing isn't disposed of.
Little Melbil was struck by a fey mood. Unbeknownst to him he was guided by 'Brewer Bob' from beyond.
“I must have rough gems! I must have tanned hides! I must have logs! I must have metal bars! I must have rock blocks!”, Melbil yelled aloud below the library - where 'Brewer Bob's' old quarters and personal crafts shop had been when he was alive.
(OOC: What are the chances that the kid to get possessed is the one I dorfed myself as AND that they actually went to claim the workshop located at dead Bob's home? It's as if the game *knew* how to play into my story...)
A dwarf death hunter tried to steal Kędnathlokum the sheep wool right glove. I, however, caught glimpse of the thief, and the military was immediately dispatched to take care of the villain.
Unfortunately several of the less experienced militia members got wounded, but it is a small price to pay for the safety of an artifact.
Ah. My artifact. Or Melbil's artifact. Whichever way one wants to put it.
No! NO!
An enormous theropod with external ribs and three long, hanging tails came suddenly from the depths. Releasing poisonous gas from the pustules hidden under its patchy gray feathers, the slavering beast known as Elothamomi Garetho Yeça˙a began its rampage.
At first it headed to the tanner's and butcher's to cause mayhem before continuing to the looms and heading for the tavern.
The military was still far away. The dwarves had nowhere to run or hide.
The first brave - or foolhardy - militia members arrived on the scene of carnage.
They were of no match to the foul beast.
Desperately civilians tried to slow down Garetho by charging it and attacking it with their bare fists and teeth. Visiting bards battered it with their instruments - even a gosling joined the fray. Yet to no avail.
The death toll kept rising. The militia was still on its way.
How many more must fall?
Were it not for the valiant efforts of the swordsdwarf Udib Minetrots and the speardwarf Melbil Boltrazors the number of dead would be much higher.
They arrived on just in time to keep the beast at the end of the hall leading to the central staircase.
And finally Melbil struck the beast down.
Had the beast reached the stairs, things would have been much worse. Not that they were good now: at least ten dwarves fell to the beast's savage onslaught.
This year is turning into a nightmare and it is not even summer yet.
Oops.
I guess a few tattered masterworks ended up in the atom smasher.
Oh well, they
clearly weren't so masterful since they became threadbare in only a couple of years.
Autumn arrived.
The caravan from the Mountainhome should come soon. All we have done the last half of spring and whole summer is dumping trash and building coffins.
Dumping, dumping, dumping.
Coffin, coffin, coffin.
Ah, sounds like the caravan is here!
Wait, wha-
That is no dwarven caravan!
This time we are prepared for the enemy to come through the catacombs. Traps are ready and so are our warriors.
Yet the cowardly goblins and trolls run away after some of them got killed by our traps and many more wounded.
The military easily took care of the stragglers.
And so continues dumping. Dumping, dumping, dumping.
Finally, upon winter's arrival, all the dumping was done, the garbage crushed. Only a couple coffins remained to be put into place in the catacombs.
Seeing that many dwarves were feeling miserable - several were constantly having fits and throwing tantrums - it was time for having a good rest for the winter. Only the most necessary of tasks were to be done.
Dwarves poured into the taverns and temples to meet each other and to pray to the gods.
Yet the time off didn't go entirely without incident.
Another visitor was seen trying to take unlawfully one of our prized artifacts, Lînemurol, the almond wood scepter. The thief was confronted at the Earthen Harvester where a brief scuffle ensued with would-be thief ending dead. Patrons of the tavern screamed and rushed away to avoid being getting caught in the fighting.
Soon the dwarves were back drinking at the tavern, as if nothing had happened just mere moments ago.
I, myself, was playing with a bronze toy axe in my room - or more precisely, in the room of Melbil.
It was in a sense quite enjoyable to once more remember what it felt like to be a child.
All the time off could do no good to some dwarves, for their mental state was beyond recovery.
While sparring, Ďteb, the militia commander, finally snapped. He had been constantly tantruming throughout the year and no matter how many times he was convicted of his disorderly conducy, it was of no use.
He was swiftly decapitated by Oddom, the manager.
But in the scuffle, one of the recruits was badly wounded and eventually succumbed to them.
...And thus ends year 191 in Smithbridges.
=====
That's my turn then.
Most of the time I just spent dumping stuff and that should be taken care of now. I also walled off some of the unused massive passages. The FPS issues were definitely something pathing related, since when all dwarves were just socializing and such, I got the FPS up to 35-38. When things are being done it hovers around 25-27 on my potato, so at least some improvement.
I did several 'cleanowned x' runs and a 'cleanconst' (sometimes it helps a bit, but didn't really show any change this time).
Nothing much else to say, I think.
...Ah, and the save:
https://dffd.bay12games.com/file.php?id=16064
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Topic: Smithbridges riverside succession fortress - Overseers needed! (Read 13626 times)