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Author Topic: Areliton Ador, Community Fort - XXXXU: [The End]  (Read 32621 times)

plisskin

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Areliton Ador, Community Fort - XXXXU: [The End]
« on: March 02, 2011, 10:48:32 am »

ARELITON ADOR - [The] Waterhalls of Drowning

Another B12F Community Fort with Colourful Commentary

The backstory of the fort will be outlined below, with pix!, in true tl;dr fashion. You do not need to read the backstory to enjoy the fort, but it's there! This is vanilla DF, no mods, nuffin' but .18 in all its metal-drenched glory.

The shorthand version: the dwarven empire of this world is corrupt, collapsing and controlled by a shadowy cabal of Dungeon Masters. Loyalists of the doomed queen Sizzlebasements are setting out to a far corner of the world to build a new empire and save dwarfkind. The first seven are loyalists of queen Sizzlebasements. Following migrants are defectors who wish to join the new nation, although some could possibly be spies for the old empire.

The general guidelines for this fort, story-based, are:

1. The old mountainhomes are our enemy and thus all caravans sent to trade are nothing more than spies and coercers. They will be cast away! No trade with the mountainhomes will be permitted, and destruction of their caravans/seizing of their goods will be attempted routinely. Migrants are accepted as defectors . . . but will be kept under careful watch.

EDIT: Trade may be permitted as a message to any potential defectors, but the only trade goods allowed will have to somehow be insulting.

2. Trade with the elves/humans will not be allowed until there is a strong standing military. They cannot be trusted. In general, this fort has the goal of being strongly self-sufficient.

3. The ultimate megaproject of this fort is to build an offshore base: a self-contained fort built on the ocean floor rising above the sea and connected to land only by bridges and nothing else. The fort is essentially complete once this has been built, and everything that transpires afterwards is in the name of Fun.

4. This is an egalitarian society. All dwarfed forum members can offer suggestions and I will try to follow them to the best of my ability. Due to rejection of the mountainhomes I don't think I'll be getting any nobles.

5. My machine for this game is crap disregard that, laptopGET

CONSTRUCTION OF AN OBSIDIAN TOWER IS SLOW GOING

Immigrant spies loyalists available for dorfing!

Dorfalog:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)


Spies Immigrants to-be-dorfed:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)


Hall of the Fallen:
Spoiler (click to show/hide)


Memorials to Construct:

Suggestions for these welcomed!

The Feasthall of Guudespelur
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Taricus' Museum of Modern Warfare
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Metalmilitia's Goblin Disposal Tower
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Ultimuh's Mallet-shaped Monument to Skullcracking
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Salmongod's Epic Tomb to Greatness
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Valrandir's Memorial to Mechanisms: The Impressive and Impossibly Impractical Machine
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Doctor Enolic's E-Z Clean Hospital
Spoiler (click to show/hide)


I'll try to update a couple of times a week, yearly reports, but I'm occasionally busy and I have a couple of succession forts I'm part of as well. We'll see how it goes, but since this is mostly a writing exercise I'm going to put an effort into making quality posts over a quantity of posts.

THE WATERHALLS OF DROWNING SHALL RISE!

...BEFORE IT GOES UNDER.
« Last Edit: April 05, 2011, 10:33:47 am by plisskin »
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I would like IN please.

WaterHalls Of Drowning X3
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The following notes and illustrations are dated 999U and signed that of "Stakod Murderwound, Bookkeeper and Archivist of Merchantsalves the first established mountainhome of The Wet Papers circa <1U>."

I am but one dwarf and these times are too cruel for me to bear. Our only hope for dwarfkind lies to the north, with the seven that her majesty entrusted with the future of her noble cause. In the memory of my father, short-lived general of our nation,

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 I inscribe the following:

I've searched the archives for months in secret, entering only when the halls do not echo so as not to seem queer, hoping to find the answer to a question our queen uttered to herself in a moment of isolation and vulnerability. I had the fortune, or perhaps misfortune, to overhear her as I passed the throne room in the wee hours on my way to these very archives to continue my research:

"Where did we go wrong?"

For me, it all began when I was appointed to this post after her majesty's rise to power. It was not but one year ago, but it has felt like ages that I have been watching my back during the waking hours, kitten-testing every beverage, lying awake in bed with knowledge that my future assassination may be snoring on the other side of my own room's masterful rendition of a finely crafted image of triangles. It took only a month or two to estimate this hallowed place's future needs for the coming years, and after every barrel and bar had been added up I found myself redundant. So, in hopes that I might better serve her majesty, I began pouring over one thousand years of historical archives previously held under lock and key by the dubious kings of yore.

Where I had hoped to discover the true history of our people, somehow preserved here at the heart of our civilization. I instead found nothing but the same old deceptions:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)


All written proof of blood-lineage has truly been purged from our knowledge. I remember my father's name, of course, Morul Murderwound. May he rest in peace. But who else will remember? Our names will be wiped from the books, purged. Who truly deserved the crown for these thousands of years? Have all of our traditions been nothing but smoke and mirrors to hide the truth: that the ever-elusive Dungeon Master's Guild, as the Rags of Paint have spoken, are our true enemies. But how can it be proven with such corrupt and false archives as these?

I must start over and reassemble what facts I have uncovered.
« Last Edit: March 02, 2011, 02:17:47 pm by plisskin »
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 We live in a dangerous land. Nearly every corner of the south habitable has been populated by Elves, Men, vile Goblins or our folk and still we cower in fear of terrible foes.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 I still remember when I was just a child, when us wee ones would recant the tale of the infant-stealing "slender man" whom some say was named "Gorbe."

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Far more terrifying than our mothers' threats of selling us to the goblins.

 In this cruel existence, we dwarves have smothered the land. Our influence juts deep into the territory of the elves; quite carelessly so, in fact. The humans, too, have been either subjugated or forced into the eastern jungles. Somehow the skulking filth manages to eke out a pitiful existence to the southwest while the green menace harry both our mountainhomes and the forest retreats.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 I have not discovered exactly when the Dungeon Master's Guild subverted our society and began their shadowy rule from behind the facade of a thousand years of "politics as usual," but disturbing evidence can still be found in the records.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Their influence over strange beasts made legend, and here we have evidence . . . circumstantial, but still compelling, that they've historically used Blizzard Men not only to clean up an overpopulation of animals but also, I suspect, as tools of murder.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 How many deaths attributed to rampaging titans and horrors throughout the ages have been due to their influence over beasts? I've never found record of an appointed Dungeon Master to any existing fort, and yet rumors of the guild's existence have been present since Merchantsalves was but a pile of rock. Ancient legends tell tale of savage horrors, the most imposing of toxin-spitting abominations, being brought to heel by the skilled and mysterious alchemists of animalism and instinct.

 Needless to say, my records dwarven history cannot be fully trusted. What can be trusted, however, are the reports on my desk that our empire is being allowed to crumble underneath the malicious weight of horrifying beasts.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 And to add insult to this injury, elves obliterated Saintlabors not but a human's generation ago.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)
Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Pagedgrottos has been allowed to be sacked by a creature named, and I quote, Gleesparkles.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Thirteen times.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 We're losing precious artifacts to a nation commanded by a male princess.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 And still we are continually harried by her, the Beast, the ancient and terrible . . . I shudder at the name.

 Osram Sizzleivory.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 Foe of the world.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 She has claimed the lives of more creatures in 1000 years than any recorded war.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 How has this beast not yet been vanquished? Historically, Merchantsalves has possessed the combined military might to thwart her, and yet our forces have traditionally remained scattered across our lands, thin and ragged. How is she allowed to soar across the peaks of the Barbs of Oblivion unmolested? Many out of favor with the monarchy in the past have been sent alone to slay her. How many were walking into a deathtrap orchestrated by these Dungeon Masters? Do they control the beast herself, or do they merely operate in conjunction with her foul moods?

 Elves ransacking Pagedgrottos, and the massive loss of life due to beast attacks sewed seeds of discord amongst the populace. The military of our Wet Papers never gave notice, never lent sufficient support, always patrolling the haunted forests for the walking dead. The kings simply collect the fruits of the labors of the honorable workers of the mountainhomes, bringing back nothing more than trinkets and cheap titles.

 Lashsavior was where the rebellion began.
« Last Edit: March 02, 2011, 02:18:46 pm by plisskin »
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The tipping point was the obliteration of Smithcrypts by dread Osram. So close had Smithcrypts been to achieving a semblance of autonomy from the Wet Papers, to forging peace with the elves and fair trade agreements with the downtrodden humans under the rule of conservationist Baron Momuz Wireentrance. Then, without warning, after years without an attack, Osram swept down from the peaks.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

 "The Rags of Paint," they called themselves.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Descendants of the founders of Lashsavior, they sought to find some evidence that our useless copper-sword of a king at the time Prophetcrafted was an enemy of the people. They declared openly that he and the monarchy itself was being manipulated from the shadows.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Rags of Paint set forth with their propaganda campaign against him, taking testimonials from the citizenry. He was well-hated, of course, for his inability to protect the common folk like so many before him. At the forefront of the Rags of Paint was our own queen Zasit Sizzlebasements, who shared a similarity in name to the terrifying enemy of us all and also possessed a fair fraction of the wyrm's tenacity.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

In <997U> they discovered what they needed: Prophetcrafted had fled his station at Blotmines in utter selfishness, damning them and their hounds to be crushed under the heel of the blizzard men.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Again! The blizzard men!

With this evidence having been discovered, the Rags of Paint rallied. Soon Lashsavior began to suffer heavy losses from beasts, titans and hydra gone unreported by the Merchantsalves loyalist scout group "The Passionate Girders." Certain that their time was nigh, the Rags of Paint marched upon Merchantsalves and seized the throne. With Prophetcrafted deposed and evidence of his treachery clear for the working classes to see, our queen Zasit Sizzlebasements was crowned.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

I, myself, was not party to the following but the unthinkable truly followed . . . and yet, does it not seem altogether likely? The same year that our queen was crowned, Osram assaulted Merchantsalves itself. The Passionate Girders ushered the citizenry to safety right under the nose of the Rags of Paint, who were caught unaware. Queen Sizzlebasements managed to play cat and mouse with the beast through these winding halls, keeping Osram from devouring any of her loyalists, although not without a price.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

She wears a patch over that eye still.

Now this is where I make my pitiful mark on contemporary history. I was one of the first to travel to Merchantsalves after Osram's retreat, bearing her the ill news from Clashesboot: her husband was devoured by a dread hydra that had assaulted us late in the night.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

He had come on appointment as our liason from the newly formed regime, and his death simply cannot be accounted for. The hydra entered, stole him away, and vanished without much more than a snort in the direction of our ill-equipped militia.

She bore the news well, allowing me to help co-ordinate and clean up Merchantsalves for it had become an administrative nightmare. The stout and loyal Stukos Skunkgravel was appointed general and sent off to Seigefountains as an emmisary.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Her loyal servants were being killed off. I became something of a confidant of the queen who must have seen in my meek behaviors a certain, to use what Elvish I know, naïveté that comes with youth and office work. I was appointed as bookkeeper and archivist. She told me that she had found herself right in their trap: queen of a corrupt kingdom, surrounded by poisonous nobility and surely soon to be targeted herself.

The kicker came when the shifty Lanceboots, commander of The Passionate Girders, was appointed to the general's post by the remaining Merchantsalves nobility.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

That night I heard the queen utter that fateful question, and I knew that neither of us had much time left. She, myself, the remaining Rags of Paint, all of us had found ourselves exactly where they wanted us: at the seat of power, their power.

She drew to her seven dwarves, Rags of Paint loyalists she knew she could trust with her life, and laid out a plan of action:

Rebuild anew.
« Last Edit: March 02, 2011, 11:34:36 am by plisskin »
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 To the north there beats evil in the heart of a vile mountain range known only as the Disloyal Horns. There is nothing in the north: jungles perhaps, heat, darkness, death. Not even goblinkind is known to have prospered there. It is a new land to all known civilization and it is there that Queen Sizzlebasements has proposed the Seven forge a new society free from all influence of the Wet Papers.

 The Incidental Forest, not having been frequented by beasts for hundreds of years, seems ideal.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

No-one can be trusted. The mountainhomes? Certainly not, in light of all recent evidence. The elves plunder our cities and their ways are too different from ours. The new lord of Men is rumored to spinelessly worship the wyrm:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

He may already be considered broken, a submissive dog.

There is nothing to the north but the clanking of bones, sweltering heat, and a faint glimmer of hope for the future generations of dwarfkind to live in society with honor, respect, and a true past to speak of. As of now, from what I have discovered in these archives, dwarf history has been a lie. There is no history for us.

I have barricaded this room, for the sound of footsteps shuffling past brings to mind starling images of knives, poison, a burlap sack dragged over my head. I will remain here a while and see what else I can discover. I won't open the door for anyone. Not even for the queen, God rest her soul. I can only hope she flees this place, much like Sodel Onslaughtmine the Banished in <956U>:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Where did we go wrong? I cannot say, and these archives offer me nothing but weight upon my shoulders. I wish that I could answer her but there's nothing for me to do but wait and hope for some manner of insight, some inspiration for what this humble bookkeeper can do to maintain hope in this crumbling nation.

We must have faith in the Seven. Strike the earth, brave journeymen of our queen!

In the memory of Zasit Sizzlebasements and all that she has stood for, I sign this memoir,

   Stakod Murderwound, esq.



BELOW IS STAMPED THE SEAL OF THE RAGS OF PAINT:

« Last Edit: March 02, 2011, 11:37:12 am by plisskin »
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plisskin

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All right, enough backstory. I'll go watch a movie and let the thread be.

I would like IN please.

WaterHalls Of Drowning X3

Sure, let me know what skills/embark items you want!

And that's one vote for The WaterHalls of Drowning.
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Ooh, I think this will be a good exercise for my own writing... if we are to take turns. If not I have plenty of suggestions, characters and ideas to add to this. I'd like in.

Waterhalls of Drowning sounds pleasantly dwarfly.

My dwarf will be as follows
Name: Doctor Enolic
Gender: Male
Skills: -Adequate Wound Dresser
-Adequate Diagnostician
-Adequate Surgeon
-Competent Bone Doctor
-Novice Suturer
Let me know if you'll accept any back story or personality for these dwarves, or if you'll make it yourself. I think I can paint this dwarf's background in accordance to the background you provided  :)
« Last Edit: March 02, 2011, 06:27:18 pm by CrimsonEon »
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Double Post, is there a way to delete these?

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Waterhalls of drowning  :D

In as a jack of all trades metalsmith.
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I want to be a female farmer in this. She has wanted the challenge of feeding an entire fort. Bring any seeds you can bring with you, perhaps not the inedibles to begin with unless you want them stored until we need it. So, Seeds of any kind, and farming skills.

I'll accept any personality, I just want her female. It would also be nice to know the pantheon and see whom she believes in. I kinda like to know the pantheon :P

Name her Eliza
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A quick scan of the stocks menu shows that one of the dead pack animals has a bin full of silk cloth!  It is speedily unforbidden, and my moody glassmaker sprints off to retrieve his prize amongst the smoking, charred, blood-soaked ruin that is the outdoors, totally oblivious to the carnage that was instigated on his behalf.

plisskin

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Ooh, I think this will be a good exercise for my own writing... if we are to take turns. If not I have plenty of suggestions, characters and ideas to add to this. I'd like in.

Waterhalls of Drowning sounds pleasantly dwarfly.

Let me know if you'll accept any back story or personality for these dwarves, or if you'll make it yourself. I think I can paint this dwarf's background in accordance to the background you provided  :)

I'll add you. I think I'll take the role of an unnamed future dorf looking back on the fort's history: that leaves open room for any dorfed watchers to post in-character replies to updates. I'd enjoy that a lot.

Waterhalls of drowning  :D

In as a jack of all trades metalsmith.

I'm hearing Waterhalls of Drowning! Added.

I want to be a female farmer in this. She has wanted the challenge of feeding an entire fort. Bring any seeds you can bring with you, perhaps not the inedibles to begin with unless you want them stored until we need it. So, Seeds of any kind, and farming skills.

I'll accept any personality, I just want her female. It would also be nice to know the pantheon and see whom she believes in. I kinda like to know the pantheon :P

Name her Eliza

Hmm, is there any way to guarantee a gender on embark? I don't want to disappoint.

Once I've embarked I'll make a nice post with all dwarfy details. I'll do my best to accommodate everyone! I'm into playing DF for how fun it is to apply one's own imagination to it, so I understand how important concept can be.

Wait, can I check the pantheon in Legends Mode?
« Last Edit: March 02, 2011, 05:41:14 pm by plisskin »
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You can look at the profiles. When assigning skills, press 'v' for a specific dorf. Then you get the profile. Press 'ESC' to go back.

For Gods, it's after embark if you don't want to copy the save, abandon, and then look up. You check the status of a dwarf after pressing 'v', then 'z', then 'r' for relationships, and then select the deity in question.
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A quick scan of the stocks menu shows that one of the dead pack animals has a bin full of silk cloth!  It is speedily unforbidden, and my moody glassmaker sprints off to retrieve his prize amongst the smoking, charred, blood-soaked ruin that is the outdoors, totally oblivious to the carnage that was instigated on his behalf.

plisskin

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You can look at the profiles. When assigning skills, press 'v' for a specific dorf. Then you get the profile. Press 'ESC' to go back.

For Gods, it's after embark if you don't want to copy the save, abandon, and then look up. You check the status of a dwarf after pressing 'v', then 'z', then 'r' for relationships, and then select the deity in question.

Ah good, I've been playing for a little while but never knew that profiles could be seen this way.

I'll be able to embark tomorrow, lots of free time all day, and before I do I'll post a screenie of what deities the dorfs were started with.
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Re: The Waterhalls of Drowning - A .18 Community Fort & Story
« Reply #14 on: March 02, 2011, 07:15:49 pm »

I can't tell if bookkeeper is actually taken or not.  If it is, I'll take SalmonGod the Broker/Marksdwarf.  Otherwise, I'll take SalmonGod the Bookkeeper/Broker.  Willing to wait for a migrant wave.
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In the land of twilight, under the moon
We dance for the idiots
As the end will come so soon
In the land of twilight

Maybe people should love for the sake of loving, and not with all of these optimization conditions.
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