Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Thuellai]

Though I heartily approve of this project in every way, I think I'm going to sit this one out. I may have extruded the world's greatest idea in a massive psychological bowel-movement... but that in no way puts me into the caliber of the rest of the forum. A community fortress would probably die nine different ways simultaneously during my watch. And not in the good way.

I will however be watching closely and may request a turn at some future date. When and if I get the stupid beaten out of me along with any other undesirable humors.

I think he's got the wrong idea here.  It's a community fort, not a succession fort.  Nist Akath, not Boatmurdered.

[Hectonkhyres]

Hectonkhyres: Greatest idea? Ever? Link?

Hrm? Oh... here.
In a fit of drunken typing, I apparently invented the segregated fortress.
Which now disturbs the hell out of me.

I think he's got the wrong idea here.  It's a community fort, not a succession fort.  Nist Akath, not Boatmurdered.

Whoop. Looks like a little stupid got beaten out of me already. Along with part of my spleen.

I would say that I shouldn't be drinking this early... except that this is DF. Intravenous drips of 200 proof alcohol secreted deep within one's facial hair is mandatory.

[Glacies]

I'd like a peasant. Train him as a fisher/herbalist for a while till the outside places are running smoothly food wise.

Then, He'll defend the homes of the innocent, kill snatchers, and generally be a nice dwarf. Give him a pet saltwater crocodile if you're patient enough to do the fiddling neccesary. He will not support insurrection against the natural order of things, and will not supoort going against the decrees of the pious. Once he's a formidable killing machine.. make him a flail (Artifact?) weilding demon-worshipping heretic that will smash down the doors of the faithfull and soak the ground in the blood of the pious. *ahem*

I'll probably just get eaten by carp/crocodiles, though..

[Mulch Diggums]

Could you write how the normal dwarves are doing out there alone? Preferably about my dwarf

[LumenPlacidum]

I hope to write a few parallel perspectives.  I'm not the greatest writer in the world, and I know that it started in a pretty serious light, but I might be able to get some humor into the game through the various perspectives by which the characters can observe the happenings.

I'd like a peasant. Train him as a fisher/herbalist for a while till the outside places are running smoothly food wise.

Sorry, Mulch Diggums got to the peasant before you made your claim.  I can wait for the next peasant or give you one of the current non-peasant dwarfs.  The gemcutters are basically peasants in green clothing.

I will be trying to portray a degree of desperation for the external fortress that will not be reflected inside.

That said, time to continue playing.

[Mulch Diggums]

Have my dwarf spar if possible or some how obtain a pick and mine out a small quary, or if you have wood on the map, chop some wood to build himself a hut and try to become a sub ruler of the lower folks.

[LumenPlacidum]

Have my dwarf spar if possible or some how obtain a pick and mine out a small quary, or if you have wood on the map, chop some wood to build himself a hut and try to become a sub ruler of the lower folks.

Hahahaha, it's funny you should say all of that.

[The Doctor]

Whyyyy?

[LumenPlacidum]

The response was typical of such weak dwarfs.  The confusion, the misunderstanding.  I could beat them with a stick that said "go home!" on it and they would ask if I had a spare +tower cap bed+.  Disgusting.

What's worse is that many of the critical supplies that we took from the wagons are still lying there in the open and now the sanctum gate is closed.  I go over and pick my way through some of the supplies.  Iron harps, some cheese that's rotting in the heat and humidity off the swamp.  I look back to the unwelcome migrants and squint.  The two gemcutters are fighting pathetically over some biscuit that one had brought.  I see the one I want.

"You there!  You said you can move things from one place to another right?  I want most of this stuff here brought to a pile in front of that big gate on top of the mountain."  I point to the random assortment of meaningless items.
The poor dwarf to whom I was speaking was just about to make his move on the biscuit while the gemcutters were busy kicking each other in the shins.  Moping he comes over.  "Whazzat, ma'am?"
I see that I'm going to have to speak more tersely.  "These.  There.  Carry them.  Drag them.  The gods will reward you for your service."  The peasant smiles.
He asks, "Then I can come in?"
I laugh in his face.  "Oh my no.  You will receive the blessing of whichever god decides to reward you.  That should be enough for any common dwarf!  What's your name, dwarf?"
He braces his back to move a cage containing a donkey.  "Tekkud, sir."
I turn to the rest of the rabble.  "This was Tekkud.  He has decided to help the gods and has received the name Mulch Diggums.  He will guide you in this service."  As a pointed remark to Mulch Diggums, I crisply say, "I am to be referred to as the Divine Conduit for I will relay the necessities of the gods above to you.  You will respect me or I will kill you in righteous fury."  I've never seen peasants work so quickly.

After getting somewhat peckish, and since these fools were working diligently to my own ends, I decided to have the others of the Few let me in.  I need to be careful that none of the soiled dwarfs can make it past me, but I manage.  I immediately go and outfit myself with the new gear that Frelock made for me.  In addition to making an excellent roast, this cook makes good steel plate!  After that, I make a point of asking if any of the Few would bless this Mulch Diggums in reward for helping to guide the rif-raff outside into being useful.  No one's too enthusiastic.  "It will only encourage them to stay!"

Jones the Braumeister makes a suggestion, "Let him prove himself worthy of a blessing in a way that would make Ud the Free Talon smile.  Have the lad kill something and present a pelt to the gods as an offering.  Then he should be blessed."  The others agreed.

From the high position above the landscape, I can rely on Shesam to carry my word to the weak.  "Mulch Diggums!  Present to the gods a gift.  A pelt of some beast, and we will bless you with utility."  We really need a pulpit specifically designed for this.  Nevertheless, I can see the distant boy walk away from the cluster of other migrants towards the swamp.  And now, the winds demand my attention.

(note: no pictures because they're on my home computer, I'll modify them in at some point)

[LumenPlacidum]

----------------Mulch Diggums, Peasant----------------------

The trip was hard.  No less so because the two gemcutters coming with us kept quibbling about who owned what bit of foraged food.  They love to make decrees.  Things like “When we get there, my palace will be twelve dwarfits across!”  or “I will bathe in the holy waters and never be covered in mud and vomit again!”  These two idiots have probably never known a time of hardship before this trip.  It’s kind of sad.  They cling to the idea of reaching this Ottem Nom desperately; seemingly convinced that it will solve all their problems to reach the place.  That never works.  Always have to work to get anything in life.

The last leg of the trip was the hardest.  A scorching-hot fetid swamp filled with crocodiles, midges, and… gorillas?  What the hell?  In fact, some of the gorillas seem to be standing on top of a merchant wagon.  Some of the gorillas seem to be chasing… merchants?  Heh, look at the poor saps running for their lives.  No matter.  We see our destination soon against the sky.  Wow.  They’re building UP and building balanced on a single strong support.  I’ve never seen anything like it.

*sigh*  I figured something bad would happen here.  So now we can’t get in because it’s sacrosanct.  Well, there’s plenty of… mud.  Maybe we can live in the mud.  This Lumen fellow didn’t seem all that impressed by my offer to help carry things around.  Temple building probably involves lots of heavy lifting.  First consideration is food.  Got to make sure not to be Stunned by the situation.  The gemcutters still don’t get it and are fighting over a biscuit.  Morons.  I could take that biscuit from either of… huh.  That Lumen guy’s calling me over.  Probably saw me going for their biscuit.  Oh well, the powers that be are.  Some deference would probably sway him over to at least letting me work for food.

I’m leading the others?  Since when does that happen?  They’re all professionals!  Haha, “Hey gemcutters!  Come here and carry this donkey over there!  If you don’t the gods will smite you!”  Oh, this is going to be fun!  Actually, they’re listening to me.  Are they so desperate for direction that they’ll listen to anyone?  Huh.  I can use this…

In order to get my reward, the priests want me to sacrifice an animal and deliver the pelt to their sanctum gates.  I just hope there is easier prey in the mountains than in the swamp.  I set off to find out as everyone looks at me, questions screaming from their eyes.  The metalsmith even seems accusatory, but I know what I’m doing.  I know how to do myself a favor.  Right now, that means throwing some unsuspecting critter off a mountain.



I run around a bit through the swamp and the mountains.  Not really sure what I’m looking for.  Only seen a saltwater crocodile so far and no WAY am I going to try my hand at that.  I move up the mountains.  A goat.  Sure, why not.  They don’t say what I have to catch.  Maybe this will appease the gods.  The damn thing is standing next to a precipice chewing on some hardy grasses of this altitude.  It doesn’t even see me coming until I solidly connect my foot with the thing’s tail.  The goat flies five dwarfits out into thin air, its bleating fading as it falls.  I walk down to where it’s unconscious with a broken tail and mangled skull.  I strangle the thing to death.



The other migrants are amazed when I drag back the goat corpse.  Using my teeth, I tear a strip of skin off down the middle of the goat and then I pry the skin off of the creature.  I go over to the “tannery.”  I’ve never really understood how this works, but the tannery’s only made of rock, how hard could it be to use rock?  So, I take the bloody skin and just start wailing the tanner’s table with it, making a wet smacking sound every time and leaving big imprints of abstract goats on the table in blood.  That ought to make future generations question what we do.  Finally, when pretty much the entire skin is covered in rock dust, I plop it in front of the gates and offer up my prayer to the gods above.



“Please, accept this sacrifice and grant me deliverance from absolute destitution.”  Then, I walk back to the others where they’re tearing chunks off of the goat to cook over a small fire or to eat bloody and raw.  At this point, they just don’t care.

[LumenPlacidum]

---------------------Lumen, Divine Conduit---------------------

I saw the whole thing.  Worse, it happened right when I was finishing a *dwarven cheese roast*!  We’re so different from these barbarians.  And the way he just started thwacking the bloody skin against rocks to “tan” it; it’s terrible.  They’ll never be among the great or even the civilized.  Nevertheless, he did do what we wanted him to do.  The general acclaim from the other Few is that the gods should forbid we actually give the savage a real weapon.  So, I look down in the store-rooms for something that might be useful to the sod.  Well, we seem to have five spare mining picks in the basement of the sanctum.  The peasant is just out there sleeping on the mountainside.  Why not?  I select the simple copper pick and go drop it from above.  He’ll find it eventually.  Now, I’m off to consider the finer points of Aeolian flutes.

[LumenPlacidum]

----------------------Doc, Bowyer---------------------------
Well, well, well.  A blessing from the gods indeed!  Such a shame that the peasant wasn’t around to see the pick as it fell from on high.  It’s only a spike of copper on a wooden haft, but it means the world to us out here.  I take it and walk back to the camp.  Everyone looks at the tool in stunned disbelief.
“A blessing from the gods,” I tell them.  Mulch Diggums looks at me intensely.
“Indeed,” is his only response.  Oh, but you were so quick to seize control before when the divine conduit was here in her armor supporting you.
I need to make the others realize that I can bring them some comfort.  Then they’ll do as I say.  “Come, let’s go to the north side of the stream and carve out somewhere where we can get out of the rain.  We can also use this to expand upon the sanctum’s base and earn more blessings!”  The metalcrafter and one gemcutter seem quite enthusiastic.  Mulch Diggums just moves to carry things.  All too easy.  I’ll lead these dwarfs yet.

Of course, the instant I get underground, even just by a few feet, I feel so much relief that I need to fall asleep on the spot.  Nothing bad could happen.  Now we're getting some relief from the weather, even though it's much more wild in what's now winter.

[Maggarg - Eater of chicke]

Oh no, the peasants are piercing the mountain!
Force them to live in hovels above the ground.
I'd like a "mechanic" called Oddbod please. By mechanic, I mean pleb with mechanics enabled.

[Boksi]

I can has dorf plz?

I'll take a dwarf who's slow to trust others, intellectual and assertive, but most importantly, he only puts on a casual show of worship. Name him Vargur. He's actually a demon cultist who intends to, well, he isn't sure yet. But he's sure something'll come to him eventually.

I don't mind if he's actually a she, either.

[Mulch Diggums]

Bump.