Dwarf Fortress > DF Dwarf Mode Discussion

The Fall of Relicmine [Spoylurz? Dwarfy Fun?]

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Tenth Speed Writer:
WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF HIDDEN FUN STUFF.
[Since, apparently, some folks here don't know what happens when you dig too deep.]



Have you ever had one of those fortress that was just a little too.. perfect?
I have.
The name, was Zanegavuz-- Relicmine.

What could go wrong, I thought?

It featured every imaginable geographic feature: A magma pipe, an underground river, a diverse joining of biomes, and even sweet veins of glorious adamantine.

The fortress I dug out there was truly a thing of beauty: At around fifty dwarves, I had not only built a thriving business in cave spider silk and gourmet food exports, but had created several ingenious projects. There was a dwarf-pumped lava moat, orcatom smashing drawbridge, and an extensive hand-dug, crank-muddied tower-cap farm along the banks of the scenic underground river (cleared of snakemen and giant olms by my rapidly growing marksdwarf militia.)

A streak of fey and secretive moods had left me with legendary talent in the fields of carpentry, woodcrafting, and bonecrafting by the end of the first year. The original duo of miners had reached legendary status, and were churning through vein after vein of gold, hematite, native aluminum, and tetrahedrite. I had even stumbled upon the topmost strands of the rich adamantite plume, although I dared not dig too deep for fear of ye olde hidden fun stuff.


It all went splendidly for a few years. Things were just.. perfect. Perfect, that is, until one fateful day.. (at about two in the morning.)

My legendary carpenter and woodcrafter were both out gathering wood for their respective projects, when a goblin ambush party sprung up and cut both down mercilessly.  Their ambush was joined by several others-- not a true siege, but just as devastating to my hapless hauling party. I issued the "only soldiers outside" order, but it was too late. Most of them were out hauling in wood for my stockpiles, and virtually the entire militia was either asleep or at another of their infamous post-patrol keggers.

Shocked by the loss of my best craftsmen, I tried my best to them together. The unorganized deployment, though, left only a handful in the guard towers, and half being slaughtered on the spot.

Losing two friends, her spouse, and her youngest daughter (conveniently strapped across her chest) caused one of my elite marksdwarves to tantrum. She sat babbling on the floor of the guardhouse for some time before rampaging down stairs, busting into the infirmary, jumping atop a wounded peasant and beating him into a bloody pulp. The tantrum spiral ended when the sheriff came to beat some sense into her (and landed her in bed with several broken toes), but the damage to my fortress was done.

An orcish siege following soon after drove me underground. The drawbridge was pulled shut and the magma moat filled at once. I would be fine, I thought, so long as my essentials held out. I did, however, have to face a massive shortage of wood and an overabundance of miasma, due in no small part to a catsplosion committing an act of genocide against the local cave spider population.

I ordered the expansion of my tower-cap farm and a renewed cave-fishing effort to compensate for my isolation. I would tap a new layer of flux stone and re-arm my militia with top quality steel gear to face the lingering orcish siege.

What I did not expect, however, was that the newly expanded cavern would alter the flowing dynamics of the water. All at once, my two legendary miners, my last machinist, and most of my trained fisherdwarves were swept down into the underground river, never to be seen again.


I was struck with a mix of shock and frustration. Taking a look around, I saw a great fortress falling to its knees: the miners were dead, all trade was cut off, and miasma and misery choked every dwarf alive.

Taking it all in, I thought for a moment.. Sure, this fortress could recover. A skilled dorfer could prevent the inevitable tantrum spiral, rearm the militia, and break free once more...
But it was the early hours of the morning.
I had just seen a half a day's effort washed away in minutes.

I would make this fortress legend. I would be remembered.

I would pull a f***ing Boatmurdered.




The adamantite... so lovely, so shiny. I giggled evilly, arming peasant and craftsdwarf alike with every extra pick I had, and shoveling them down that tiny shift along side the great magma pipe.

Greed, they say, breeds insanity, almost as well as boredom. No, this fortress could not live.
Seven, perhaps eight levels down, I found it. A beautiful red light shimmering through a crack in the darkness. It fell open, and far below, in a chamber of pure adamantite, was a sight that even Lovecraft himself could not describe.

At the very bottom, from a pit of strange glowing light, emerged demons-- horrible, gruesome demons. The miners who had made that twisted, beautiful discovery, were gored and cut down in seconds.



For a brief moment, sanity struck me once again. Close it. I could still save the fortress, I had to close it.

The magma moat... yes, its lower cistern was adjacent to the sole entrance to the adamantite shaft. One good strike would drown it all in liquid fire, and a splash of water, seal it in obsidian forever.

But it was not meant to be.

Frog, tentacle, and fire alike erupted in a bloody streak from the shaft. The very last pick-user, the only one who could have breached the cistern and saved Relicmine, was left quite disemboweled just a few squares from its wall.



The deliciously comforting insanity returned as I watched the demonic horde slaughter dwarf and critter alike. Fire, fire and tentacles had come to Relicmine. Avarice and sheer boredom brought the pinnacle of dwarfy Fun to my once glorious fortress.

All was lost... save, for one dwarf: A child who received a red injury during the goblin raids. He slept, undisturbed, behind the locked doors of the fortress barracks as his friends and family were torn limb from limb around him. He alone would survive that day, as it was then that I hit the almighty "Abandon Fortress" option.

What would become of him?
Perhaps, the world shall never know.

(At least, until I find the friggin' thing in adventure mode.)

Ieb:
Looks like you had fun.
But I have to say, if you still had a siege going on while everyone was getting killed, then the child is simply told to having starved to death in the fort. If not, you obviously have to go and Adventure to the fort with the kid(possibly after he's grown up to a dysfunctional soldier, the lone wolf type) and kill the demons.

Gergination:
You had three strange moods in the first year!?

I fail to see how this is even possible as you need 20 dwarves to even trigger one.  Not to mention the other conditions.

Tenth Speed Writer:

--- Quote from: Gergination on June 29, 2009, 02:45:03 am ---You had three strange moods in the first year!?

I fail to see how this is even possible as you need 20 dwarves to even trigger one.  Not to mention the other conditions.

--- End quote ---

It may have been early second. I'm not quite sure how it played out, I just recall that I got a massive immigrant wave early on and ended up with four or five artifacts before the end of year two. (I remember a weaver and some other dwarf [I think it was the cheesemaker?] had possessed moods and cranked out a couple of your typical useless trinkets as well.)

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