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[OneMoreNameless]

Choose Your Own Dwarf Fortress
YOU'RE THE STAR OF THE STORY! CHOOSE FROM 1 POSSIBLE ENDING. (It's losing.)

GOBLIN BLIGHT ISLAND

SURROUNDED ON ALL SIDES BUT DOWN, CAN YOU SURVIVE THE ISLAND'S TERROR?
You and six other dwarves planned to start a peaceful outpost on a small island unclaimed by your King. Suddenly, disaster strikes when wild animals begin to attack you and an evil presence hides beyond your tunnels. The next thing you know supplies are low, Spring is long over - and you may have just struck your last stone!
How can you keep your people fed? If you risk venturing outside to kill deer, turn to page 71. If you kill your wife's adorable pet kitten, turn to page 36. If you kill you wife - one less moaning mouth to feed - turn to page 9.
What will be the fate of the fledging fortress? It all depends on the choices you make. And the best part is that you can keep reading and rereading until you've given up hitting refresh and jumping in first to make the next choice FANTASTIC ADVENTURES!

[OneMoreNameless]

1

    You humbly stand before your Dwarf King's gilded throne. A masterwork image of a carp is fondly displayed in native silver. The King was rumoured to have slain several barehanded back in the old days, before the Great Muzzling. Now the only tales you hear of come from his Groom of the Stool, and the artefact statue of that is less tasteful.
    It was all very impressive three hours ago. Now your legs are aching and your two fellow dwarf companions would rather drink water than keep quiet.
    "... and in my bedroom we'll need one of those, and one of those, and at least two of those rubies," Foureyes listed. You and her grew up in the same fortress and shared many hours practising with rock instruments. Your ambitions both changed in the years since, but her sly cheer is as familiar as ever. "Nobody's looking, you know, I could just reeeaaach over and-"
    "Oh yes, because nothing's going to draw generosity from the old bastard like petty theft." If Foureyes' nickname drew from her poor eyesight, than Fourguts' drew from a more self-inflicted condition. You met him only two months ago, but recognised immediately that his analytical mind and noble connections would be of benefit to your new calling.
    Suddenly you hear slow footsteps approaching. You pat your comrades on their backs encouragingly, then snap to attention. The Dwarf King - still nude and dripping from his grape juice bath - meanders over to his throne and considers you slowly.
    "So, you are the three dwarves who requested land and workers," the King mused as he wrung out his lofty beard. "I have decided that I shall grant your request for a new outpost to be founded. My stenographer has already drawn you a map to the unclaimed island. However, before you leave, I have one last question for your leader."
    "Yes, your Lowness?" you eagerly reply. Your heart is pounding and you have to bite back a grin; this is the moment you've spent months waiting for!
    "Tell me, what is it you plan to accomplish with your fortress?"



If you immediately answer "Glory to the dwarves, and death to all oneandahalflings.", turn to page 2.
If you enthusiastically cry "The Kingdom's finest brewery!", turn to page 7.
If you wring your hands and smugly reply "Money, my dear King.", turn to page 15.
If you scream "REVOLUTION!" and attack the King where he stands, turn to page 128.
If you even consider "A safe and nurturing home for my future children.", you are obviously playing the wrong game - turn to page 1 and choose again.

[Arni]

A most glorious fortress for all lesser races to be envied! (So I guess page 2)
Nice writing by the way

[OneMoreNameless]

2

"Very original, by the way," Fourguts whispers to you. You spare him a sharp look, but the Dwarf King is more impressed. He tilts his head back and laughs deeply. His whole body shakes in delight and you wince as certain unspeakables briefly wiggle free of his body hair.
    "I'd hit it," Foureyes grins.
    "You're disgusting," Fourguts gagged.
    "Then may Armok's hands guide your pick!" the King declares proudly after he has calmed down. "I shall send four additional dwarves with you on your expedition. The first, a hardened crossbower to hunt and strike your foes. The second, a strong metalsmith to forge decor and weapons alike. The third, a practised doctor to keep your beards in worthy condition. And the last? A wood cutter, of course. We wouldn't want to forget our elf friends!"
    While the King laughs again at his own joke, a skinny, well-groomed dwarf emerges from the back of the room. He approaches indifferently and thrusts a map of Goblin Blight Island into your hands. You thank the dwarf as he leaves, then bow to the King and make your own departure.

Your voyage to the island - what you still can't believe will be your new home - is mostly uneventful. Both you and Fourguts are seasick within minutes, and spend the remainder of the six hours in the comfortable darkness of your cabin. Foureyes is undaunted by the blue skies and fresh air; several times you overhear her flirting with your four new allies.
    The King's dwarves were generally friendly when you first met them. All had several years of experience in their fields but all were happy to work under your command for at least the first few years of the fortress. Only when you mentioned the name of the island did they all quieten. You can hear them talking above deck now, though. They seem to be discussing recent activities of theirs that may have offended the King. How strange.
    Suddenly, disaster strikes! Dozens of echoing thunks sound over the ship and you hear Foureyes screaming. Your feet are instantly on the ladder to investigate the cause of the commotion, but Fourguts grabs you hurls you back down. Moments later a flaming arrow strikes the wood above you. Goblin war cries faintly reach your ears.
    Before you know it, thick smoke is billowing throughout the ship. Your fearful screams for the other dwarves are drowned out by crackling and splashing as the unmanned ship rocks wildly. Fourguts ignores the chaos and tears at the wall of your cabin. Water shortly rushes in and for a moment you think he's gone mad. Then he gestures for you to take a breath and swim to safety. You obey without thought, fighting the currents outside and kicking your stubby legs as hard as you can.
    Finally you wash up on a hot, shrubby beach. You're not sure how much time has passed. You wander along the coast for a few minutes before spotting Foureyes tanning in her bikini. Miraculously, all the other dwarves are safe as well.
    "We pulled some supplies out, dumped 'em by the wreckage that washed up," the metalsmith informs you with a tired sigh. You cast your eyes over the few items that were saved. Nothing as heavy as your anvil remains, but at least plenty of food and drink barrels are still floating nearby. Seeing them roll in the waves makes you wonder if you could fashion a wagon of sorts from the ship's debris. But even if you could, where would you go?



If you set up camp in the nearby swampy forest, turn to page 4.
If you follow the coast around until you find some hills, turn to page 34.
If you travel upriver towards the mountains, turn to page 56.
If you cart your supplies all the way to a small desert in the west, turn to page 78.
If you announce "Meh." and collapse on the spot, turn to page 101.

[Jim Groovester]

Turn to page 56.

And then see what would have happened on page 101.

[Spartan 117]

Turn to page 56.

And then see what would have happened on page 101.

Agreed.

[Dermonster]

Can we name dwarves after ourselves?

Ill take the woodcutter/axedwarf. Name him Derek Soulchopper, Axe crazy psychotic madman.

also, 101.

[OneMoreNameless]

Turn to page 56.

And then see what would have happened on page 101.

No cheating! 

Not that I wasn't expecting somebody to suggest it, but I kind of hoped we'd get passed the second page first, heh. I'll say in this case though, the choice really just determined the embark location; the last option would have resulted in a snark or two from Fourguts, probably a cheer from Foureyes, then embarking on the hot, shrubby beach.

As a rule of thumb, the choice from the first reply is the one I'll go with. I wasn't really planning on giving names or personality to many dwarves either ... the idea for me was to stick strictly to the simple CYOA format, following just YOU! and your two buddies. The narrative will mention any significant changes to the King's Dwarfs or other arrivals (marriages, deaths etc.) but that's about it.

[maxicaxi]

34

[OneMoreNameless]

56

Within an hour you and the other dwarves are hiking upriver. Two of the King's dwarves pull Fourguts' makeshift cart along the soggy ground, while another continues to retie ropes and make sure all the contents are stable. They include adequate food and drink, scarce few medical supplies and containers, as well as two picks and one axe that the metalsmith was able to rescue and clean. The ship's wreckage has also left you with a shit-tonne of wood. (Add these to your inventory now.)
    "I hope you love plump helmets, guys," Fourguts mutters as he peers at the packed goods. "Because I can smell no shortage of plump helmets in our immediate future."
    The King's dwarves ignore him and continue pacing north. The wagon creeks and groans along with your footsteps, but the trail feels too quiet. You look around and realise that Foureyes is missing - and you do not recall the last time you saw her.
    The wood cutter stops in front of you, interrupting your thoughts. "The river splits up ahead. North and northwest. Which way are we heading?"
    You look up and allow your eyes to wander over the horizon. You can see mountains in either direction, and each stream flows equally strong. You shrug and open your mouth to speak, but Fourguts cuts you off with a open palm. He points towards a slightly off-colour blemish in the distance. It looks unnaturally angular and almost purple.
    Recognition chills your spine and curls your beard. Before you can comment, trees on the other side of the river begin to rustle. You catch your breath and dive behind the wagon. The crossbower draws their weapon and points it warily at the noise. The shaking grows louder and thumping footsteps sound. Fourguts narrows his eyes and snatches an axe from the wagon then ...
    ... Foureyes bursts free from the undergrowth, leading a bruised horse foal and its disturbed mother behind her.
    "I found a pony!" Foureyes flaunts gleefully. "Can we keep it? Can we?"
    "What," Fourguts adds flatly.

It is nearing dusk when your feeble cart breaks down entirely. The wheels have snapped while being heaved uphill, and it is too heavy to carry by hand. Luckily you are already near your destination - just at the base of the mountains and still close to the dwindling brook. You can see healthy trees to the southeast and plenty of good stone before you. Perhaps best of all, you are only steps away from a vein of lignite and a cluster of saphires!
    "Excuse me," Foureyes whispers seductively as she places a lingering kiss on the gems. "I need a private moment. Ooh, but I want you to watch, metalsmith."
    "This is too good to be true," Fourguts comments warily. "Someone should have dug here already. Even a human would take this."
    "Then we should hurry and take it underground ourselves," the metalsmith suggests.
    "Oh please, I can pick off any attackers before you'd even smell them!" the crossbower boasts. While trying to ignore Foureyes' moaning, you survey the scene a second time and consider your reply.



If you heed Fourguts' warning and prepare traps and sentries around your digging site, turn to page 93.
If you take the metalsmith's advice and begin hauling your possessions deep underground, turn to page 27.
If you trust the crossbower and dig only a small shelter for now, turn to page 55.
If you ignore the gems and hollow out the southeastern mound simply to spite Foureyes, turn to page 65.

[Urist Imiknorris]

93

[Demonic Spoon]

27

[Spartan 117]

93

[LordSlowpoke]

...I somehow want to see that "private moment with the gems". 65.

[Dermonster]

93