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  1. - Top - End - #31
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    lord_khaine's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    For when there comes more dwarfs.

    Name: Khaine the mad
    Gender: male
    Proffesion: wrestler
    Reason for exile: Khaine has adoptet a ascetic lifestyle of hard work, brutal violence towards any would-be invaders and no alchohol.
    While the to first choices are seen as propper dwarf virtues, then the last thing alone was enough to see him thrown out of the fort in case it was contagious, when you then add in his habbit of practicing wrestling wearing only his beard, the question becomes why he wasnt thrown out years ago.

    Seeking a more open fort where he can continue his quest for enlightment, Khaine currently wander the wilderness.
    thnx to Starwoof for the fine avatar

  2. - Top - End - #32
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Also signing up for a useless free...a valuable migrant, in case the fort survives that long.

    Name: Terra
    Preferred Gender: Female
    Profession: Farmer
    Reason for exile: One day remarked that the decorations of the Mountainhome were terribly similar. All images of dwarves and wild animals striking each other down and menacing spikes and that it would be nice with some gentle curves and abstract imagery for a chance. Maybe even a pastoral scene or two.

  3. - Top - End - #33
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    AgentPaper's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Name: Paper
    Preferred Gender: Male
    Profession: Mason/Foreman
    Reason for Exile: Was ordered to build a circular room by a noble.
    Excellent avatar by Elder Tsofu.

  4. - Top - End - #34
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    Maxymiuk's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    The elven compound in the Halfway Inn was an ugly building, bereft of luxuries such as windows, doors, furniture, or even a proper floor. Stifling in summer, freezing in winter, always dank and dark, it was a studied insult to the elven traders, who nevertheless elected to stay there for the few weeks every year when they came to trade.

    Why did they continue to come, and to suffer jeers, disdain, or even open hostility, even though four times out of five they were declared to have nothing of value and sent away without seeing a single coin of profit? Obadiah couldn't guess. Maybe that fifth time made it all worth it.

    The elves were already waiting for him when he entered the building - three tall shapes in the gloom, hands clasped in front of them, heads bowed, as if in prayer.

    "Greetings, imithele," said the one on the left, shifting his gaze upwards slightly, to look Obadiah in the eyes. "Is it time to trade?"



    "Greetings, imimina," Obadiah recalled the proper word just in time and was rewarded with the sight of the elve's eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Yes, it is."

    For Broker Alath, it was a studied insult to send him in to trade with the elves. He probably expected that Obadiah would refuse, thus giving the broker an excuse to get rid of him. If so, the senior dwarf had miscalculated.

    "This way," the elf indicated Obadiah should follow him deeper into the building. His two companions moved aside, and the dwarf raised his eyebrows at the swords at their belts - the mountains had to be thick with goblins this year if the elves were allowed to keep their weapons.

    ***

    The trade goods stacked at the back of the compound, among the elven donkeys, were a... disappointment. A few musical instruments, a couple bags of dye, and bins upon bins of rope reed cloth. Nothing that the mountainhome wanted, or needed.

    "If you'd have brought trained beasts, or even some Sunshine, we'd have gladly taken them," Obadiah said apologetically. As it was, even if he offered to take something, he'd most likely be overruled by Alath, who'd also relish the opportunity to appraise his apprentice of all his faults. "We will decline trade with you."

    "I understand," the elf said, disappointment showing in his voice. "Perhaps we-" he was interrupted by a terrified shout from the outside.

    A moment later, a large wave crashed around the corner, throwing one of the elven guards into the wall and sweeping everyone else off their feet. Obadiah felt water close over his head and flailed around in panic. His hand encountered something solid, and he latched onto it, pulling himself upwards.

    He emerged on top of a cloth bin, and narrowly avoided getting his head caved in by a kick from a trashing donkey. The animals were braying wildly, there were trade goods floating everywhere around, and the water level was rising with every passing moment.

    What's happening? Obadiah wondered briefly, before the sensible and pragmatic part of him, the one that was very much concerned with staying alive, screamed that he could ask that question after getting out of here right now.

    "We have to get out!" he yelled at the elves, who were trying to calm down the donkeys. "We'll drown!" he added, as the water reached his waist, and started making his way towards the exit.

    A body floated past him - the elf that got thrown against the wall. He wasn't moving, knocked unconscious, maybe dead. Without thinking, Obadiah grabbed him, holding his head above the water, and started dragging him along.

    He had to fight to keep his footing, and by the time he reached the exit, the water was up to his chest - and more was pouring into the courtyard, over the edge of the roof above the depot.



    "Obadiah! Help!" It was Alath, waving at him frantically from the top of one of the wagons, his cries nearly drowned out by the sound of the cart animals trying to get out of their stalls. "I'm drowning!" he cried, contrary to the fact that though dripping wet, he was in a much better position than his protege.

    Another scream came from inside the inn - from the months he spent there, Obadiah knew that the doors were poorly fitted, letting cold morning air pass freely through the cracks - a path equally accessible by water. There were close to half a dozen migrants currently residing there.

    "Help me!" Alath yelled again. "It's your duty as my assis- no, my, successor!"

    But how? Obadiah thought furiously. The wagons would probably float, so they could just wait until the water filled the entire courtyard and then escape over the wall, but by then everyone else would be dead.

    The bridge! He had to lower it. That would let most of the water drain out. Obadiah threw himself towards the lever, still dragging the unconscious elf behind him.

    "Hey! Hey!!! Where are you going?!" the broker screamed shrilly as Obadiah disappeared around the corner. "Come back! How dare you abandon me? I'll die! Come back right this instant, you hear me! I will have you executed! Hey!!!"

    Obadiah could see two dwarven bodies floating by the bridge mechanism. The guard, and another dwarf, both motionless. The lever itself was barely visible, only the very end still sticking out above the water. The dwarf let go of the elf and leapt towards it, throwing his entire weight against the pole.

    It didn't budge.

    "No!" he cried in frustration. He was going to die because of shoddy engineering. Everyone was going to die, because some arrogant son of a beardless bastard decided that noncitizens don't deserve proper dwarven craftsmanship.

    But it worked fine just half an hour ago. He saw himself how the guard pulled the lever, and the bridge rose, smooth and quiet as you please. Then he secured it... in...

    The security latch! It was holding the lever in place. But the release was near the ground, and by now he had to stand on tip-toe to be able to draw breath.

    And he really, really wanted to live. He took a deep breath and dove.

    Obadiah's beard immediately flloated up to plaster itself over his face, but that was alright, since the water was so muddy, he couldn't see anything anyway - he had to work by touch, and pain lanced through his fingers, as he missed the latch, and stuck his hands into the gearbox.

    Calm down, calm down, calm down... Here was the shaft. Here's where it connected to the gearbox. About an inch above the gearbox would be the brace around the shaft. The brace was connected to the latch on both sides, but the release would be on the... right side. No, wrong right, the right from the side of the bridge, so... here.

    Obadiah braced his feet against the gearbox and, the last of his air escaping from his mouth, yanked the lever towards him, and this time it obliged.

    Before being swept out the gate, he still had time to realize that he, along with most of the water, would end up inside the moat.

    ***

    That everyone survived could be considered a minor miracle, though during what followed there were times when Obadiah considered himself better off dead.

    While he recovered from his ordeal - one that he survived only due to the intervention of the very same elf he dragged out of the compound, and who recovered in time to pull himself, Obadiah, the guard, and the third dwarf (who turned out to be responsible for the entire incident) out of the moat - Alath appeared before the nobility in charge of the investigation, and painted a lurid description of his craven assistant who abandoned a dwarf in need for the sake of - of all things - an elf. He was convincing enough that his now ex-) protege was dragged out of bed and, barely able to stand upright, made to hear out the sentence, every word of protest, or defense, silenced by a punch from one of the guards supporting him.

    Exile.

    Because he put the needs of the many before those of the few. Because he thought, instead of reacting.

    On the bright side, he wouldn't have to deal with Alath anymore.



    ****************************************



    With an official release date set to sometime during this weekend, I figured I better get my butt in gear and finish the prologue, writer's block and rough week at work be damned.

    Just Derek left now, and I have most of his story written already.

    Rockphed: I think prefer not to mess with the raws for the very first game I'll play with the new release.

    Ok, that's a total lie. I'll probably mod in a couple things based on the direction I want the story to take, but the principle still stands.

    AgentPaper: I think I may need a at least a few more words to work with, since currently I'm imagining it going like this:

    Baron: Peon! Make me a circular room!
    Paper: Um, ok. I'll see what I ca-
    Baron: GUARDS! Seize him! Circular rooms are impossible by the very nature of our world!
    Paper: Er...
    Baron: I sentence you to exile for threatening the fabric of reality itself!
    Paper: But-
    Baron: EXILE!!!
    Last edited by Maxymiuk; 2010-03-29 at 06:43 PM.

  5. - Top - End - #35
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    AgentPaper's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Quote Originally Posted by Maxymiuk View Post
    AgentPaper: I think I may need a at least a few more words to work with, since currently I'm imagining it going like this:

    Baron: Peon! Make me a circular room!
    Paper: Um, ok. I'll see what I ca-
    Baron: GUARDS! Seize him! Circular rooms are impossible by the very nature of our world!
    Paper: Er...
    Baron: I sentence you to exile for threatening the fabric of reality itself!
    Paper: But-
    Baron: EXILE!!![/i]
    That's essentially what I was going for, but seeing it like that it does seem a bit silly.

    Okay, change it to this: He was exiled for successfully making a circular room. Which is, of course, the only thing less dwarfy than elves. (Because if you're REEEEALY drunksober, you might mistake an elf for a human, and if you're even MORE drunksober, you might mistake a human for a tall dwarf)
    Excellent avatar by Elder Tsofu.

  6. - Top - End - #36
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    Rockphed's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Ah, come on! It's actually going to be much easier than it sounds. You just need to find the dwarf raw and add a pair of square brackets in the appropriate place. However, your answer also established our world view. Dwarves in this world have no beards on their women.
    Quote Originally Posted by Wardog View Post
    Rockphed said it well.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sam Starfall
    When your pants are full of crickets, you don't need mnemonics.
    Dragontar by Serpentine.

    Now offering unsolicited advice.

  7. - Top - End - #37
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    TheLogman's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Whoa, release this weekend?!

    Awesome!

    Also, this writing is really quite good.
    Thanks a TON to Almighty Salmon for the Amazing Log Man!

    The Legend of TheLogMan

  8. - Top - End - #38
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    Maxymiuk's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    "No, I never said getting an outpost going was easy," Obadiah shook his head calmly. "Just that it isn't as hard as people make it out to be. All you need is couple months worth of provisions and some decent tools. As long as you know what you're doing, half a year is all you need to have proper lodgings, a stable food supply, and a solid foundation for an industry."
    "Yeah, right. That explains all those expeditions you never hear back from," Celes leaned forward to throw another log into the fire. "And those you do find out about are the ones that show up on your doorstep dirty, frightened, and half-starved, begging for refuge."
    "There's a fair number of outposts that don't work out, I admit," Obadiah said carefully. "Mostly because they're started by amateurs. Dwarves that don't know what they're doing."
    "Oh, and you're an expert then, are you?"
    "Enorrigoth, Otilcatten, Borushkubuk, Nomerith, Sodelnil. The outposts I helped to get started," he added helpfully. "So yes, for lack of a better word, you could say I am an expert at 'striking the earth'."
    "Never heard of them," Celes declared dismissively. "Hey, wait a moment! These all failed, haven't they?!"
    "Yeeees... due to poor management, poor prioritization and, in one case, the inability to count above five. But I'm sure that if we all work to-"

    "Y-you mean if we all listen to you, r-right?" Zazit spoke up from her place at the edge of the firelight. Though her teeth chattered from the cold, she staunchly refused to share the campfire with Obadiah. "W-well, you can f-forget it. I'll never f-follow an elf-lover!"
    "That's not even remotely what I've meant. I just-"
    "Save your lies for someone who believes them."

    And with that, Zazit turned her back on him, muttering darkly to herself. After a brief moment, everyone else breathed a little easier - the last argument between those two, the very first night of their journey, ended up with the soldiers having to break up the ensuing fight - by giving everyone (whether involved or not) a thorough beating.

    "Yes, with that kind of team spirit we'll be a new mountainhome by year's end," Celes shook her head at Obadiah. "I still say that our best bet is wait until our keepers bugger off, and just keep going. I heard there's dwarves in the mountains to the east - maybe they'll take us in."
    "Getting there would take months. Even if that cart is stuffed with provisions, we'd run out long before getting there."
    "Bound to be a few human towns along the way. We can resupply there."

    Celes looked to the others for support but, as usual, Jahjah looked terrified at the very prospect of spending even more time on the surface, and Milski was suddenly very interested in the bandages on his hands. Zazit would've probably agreed with her just to spite Obadiah, but it wasn't worth the risk of setting her off. As for the others - Celes looked at the two figures on the far side of the campfire and just shook her head with a sigh.



    "What's with the weirdo anyway?"she decided to change the topic. She looked at Milski - in their little group, he was the last to be imprisoned, so he knew the most about recent events in the mountainhome."
    "What? Oh, I heard she just went crazy one day and tried to shave off-"
    "No, I mean him," Celes pointed at the dwarf sitting with his back to the wagon, well outside the circle of light and warmth provided by the fire. "The volunteer."
    "Oh, Derek?" Milski hesitated. "His family was killed," he said finally.
    "Pff, that's it? Plenty people died in the flood. Depths take it, I think I had a cousin or two among the miners that started the whole thing," she pretended not to notice Jahjah's abrupt flinch. "But do you see me going off my rocker about it?"
    "Well, you did put that carp-"
    "But see, I wasn't crazy, I just hated the bloodthirsty bastard. Anyway, we're getting sidetracked," she waved her hand in agitation. "I don't think there's a dwarf who hasn't lost kin in the past few months, but you don't see anyone else freezing their tits off out here by choice, do you?"
    "You misunderstood. He didn't 'lose' his family. They were killed. Hammered. And not just some cousin or other. His family. All of them."

    "I mean, that's what I heard, anyway," Milski said eventually, just to break the heavy silence. "I got arrested the day after they announced the execution."
    "Why were they sentenced?" Obadiah asked quietly.
    "Same reason anyone was. The duke consort demanded a crystal glass table for her bedroom."
    "But she only ever had one at a time hammered before... How many did you say were sentenced?
    "Five," it was Jahjah who answered - it was the first time that the former miner spoke up that night. "Six, with Derek. A blacksmith family, fairly well off. Had their own forge and everything, up in the Emerald Quarter. My own father commissioned a steel pick from them," he explained, when they all stared at him, "a gift, for when I made foredwarf. I heard him say he was lucky to even get considered, they were usually so busy with contracts for the nobility and military."
    "And they still got a hammering, despite the popularity?" Obadiah frowned. "That doesn't make sense. That is, even less so than usual," he corrected himself. "But that explains the crowd that showed up to see us - I mean him - off."
    "Yeah," Celes nodded solemnly. "There's wrong, and then there's wrong. Oy, pass me the skin, things like that make a dwarf need a drink."

    The rest responded with a chorus of quiet ayes.



    **************************************************



    Rember how I said that I had the bit for Derek mostly written? Well, when I went back to it, I realized it was originally written based on a set of assumptions that, over the course of writing these backstories, became invalid, one after another. So I had to write this instead.

    On another note, I've decided to delay the "proper" start of the LP until at least the first bugfix update, since from reading the list of reported bugs, a lot of the features that are critical to the success of this fort are far too broken to be relied upon. If I was doing a typical embark then yes, I'd have gone ahead, come-what-may, but as it is, I don't think anyone would want to see this fortress crater within the first couple of months.

  9. - Top - End - #39
    Ettin in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    I don't think it's so bad that you can't have a fine, functioning fortress. You may want to have the game save more often in the case of a crash*, but other than that it seems to be mostly okay, with perhaps just a few minor bugs that I haven't even really noticed.

    But then, I guess it's probably a good idea to wait at least for the first patch for something as big as this, especially if it turns out that the save files become incompatible in the process of the bug fixing, or opening an old map in the new version doesn't fix the bugs.



    *I've had one so far, right after some FUN came out of the truly massive cave system I dug into perhaps too quickly.
    Excellent avatar by Elder Tsofu.

  10. - Top - End - #40
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    Maxymiuk's Avatar

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Blah, blah, Maxy's workplace is short-staffed so he had double the typical workload the last couple months, blah, too tired to write, blah.

    But with 0.31.05 out today, enough stalling. Genning a world as we speak.

    ...

    Aaaand, first crash when I tried to export the image. It didn't save the world, of course. Let's try this again.


    First "proper" update later today.

  11. - Top - End - #41
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Quote Originally Posted by Maxymiuk View Post
    Blah, blah, Maxy's workplace is short-staffed so he had double the typical workload the last couple months, blah, too tired to write, blah.

    But with 0.31.05 out today, enough stalling. Genning a world as we speak.

    ...

    Aaaand, first crash when I tried to export the image. It didn't save the world, of course. Let's try this again.


    First "proper" update later today.
    Huzzah!
    Excellent avatar by Elder Tsofu.

  12. - Top - End - #42
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    DwarfClericGuy

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Your name: Breltar
    Your preferred gender: Male
    Your profession (preferred/goal profession for anyone beyond the first six): Farmer/Planter
    Your reason for being called undwarven and exiled (optional for anyone beyond the first six): Once said that "Elven wine isn't so bad."

  13. - Top - End - #43
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Part 1 - Just Us



    "Lurit's Tits! Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?" Celes stared at the wagon accusingly. "What is this?"
    "Our supplies, I believe," Zazit muttered and blew her nose noisily.
    "And this is it?!" the brewer exclaimed. "This?! This isn't what we were promised!"
    "All a dwarf needs is a pick in his hand, and an ale in his stomach," Milski recited and laughed bitterly. "Looks about right to me."



    "You can't be serious. This... this is ridiculous." Celes ran her hands through her hair. "A song? They equipped us based on a song!?"
    "Please calm down, everyone," Obadiah's voice was steady, but with a hint of uncertainty in it. "We need to thi-"
    "Calm?" Celes demanded. "You want me to stay calm when we don't have enough booze to drown a cat?!"

    Everyone, including Celes, froze, as the words descended upon them like a flock of ravenous vultures, aiming straight for the liver. Obadiah suddenly remembered Nomerith, after the shoddy irrigation system flooded the crops. In a few moments someone would make a dive for the barrel, the others would follow, and there would be a brawl. Dwarves would get hurt and out here, without doctors, medicine, or even food, they would die.

    He needed to say, or do something, anything before that happened.

    Anything at all. He called upon his experience, the knowledge he accumulated over the years of managing outposts. The optimal course in this situation, it told him, was to use the pickaxe to dig their own graves.

    "It's not a joke," someone said quietly. It took them a moment to realize that this deep, slightly hoarse voice belonged to Derek, who hardly said anything during their journey. "It's far too clever."

    Derek walked pasted Obadiah, up to the wagon and laid a calloused hand on the wheel. "This is the best way to get us killed."
    "Oh yeah?" Celes snorted. "Seems to me that's a lot of effort just to off a bunch of troublemakers. Why not give us the Hammerer and be done with it?"
    "Because," the smith replied, "we are what happens when the hammer is used too often. It's cause and effect - the nobility does something stupid, and we protest. They punish us, and we retaliate. They kill us, and our friends and families take revenge. And, in the end, everyone is dead."
    "So how is it different to send us off somewhere far away to die?" Obadiah asked. He saw what Derek was doing - pulling their thoughts away from the solitary barrel and its contents - and tried to help.
    "It's just that - we're far away, where no one can see us die, where no one can grieve over our bodies and plot revenge," Derek made a long pause before continuing. "We weren't killed. We died. Due to our own incompetence, no less."
    "What?!" Celes stared in disbelief. "Incompetence? Did you see] what they gave us? How could anyone survive with... with nothing!"
    "A true dwarf would," something that may have been a shadow of a smile appeared on Derek's lips. "All a true dwarf needs... - that's how my grandfather used to sing that song. So no one would be surprised if we failed. In fact, they'd downright expect that to happen. After all, we're not dwarves. Not anymore."
    "Sod this!" the brewer exploded. "Nobody tells me who I am. Not you, not some bloody song, and definitely not some prissy noble sitting on his high throne somewhere. I'm a dwarf! I was born a dwarf, I lived a dwarf, and I'll die a dwarf, and nobody, y'hear, nobody can make it otherwise. But that does nothing to change the fact that we have no food, no booze, no tools or weapons, and no means of getting any! So unless you can pull a larder out of your arse, I thi-"
    "You know what I see?" Derek's voice was still quiet, but now there was an edge to it, that made Celes stop mid-tirade. "I see food," he looked at the draft horses that pulled their wagon, who were now rooting around in the snow, looking for grass. "I see tools," he looked at the wagon, with all its springs, nails, and bindings. "Lastly, I see someone who knows more about survival in the wild than all of us combined."

    And he looked at Obadiah.

    ***

    There was some - there was a lot of arguing. Mostly from Zazit, who loudly declared that she will never willingly follow an elf-lover. That was resolved only after Celes stuck her fist under the bonecarver's nose and growled that everyone was alright with her following Obadiah unwillingly - or taking a long hike into the woods. Zazit took one look at the snowstorm brewing on the horizon, blew her nose a couple times, and muttered something that could be construed as assent.

    As for Obadiah, at first he tried to offer the role of the leader off to Derek - it was the smith who got the others to listen - but it was met with stern refusal. "We need someone who knows about running small outposts. What works, more importantly, what does not. When you talked by the campfire, I listened - you've experienced a lot of failure."
    "Um... thanks?"

    ***



    "Our main problem is, you don't know anything uselful. In terms of establishing an outpost," Obadiah added quickly, as a few dwarves muttered angrily. "We lack a few professions that are considered key to becoming self-sufficient. Fisher, hunter, carpenter, most of all, farmer. We'll need to improvise and, in some cases, simply learn."
    "You expect us to hunt with our bare hands? And what are we going to plant, twigs?"
    "There'll be plenty of wild crops around once the snows melt."
    "And when will that be?"
    "No more than a month."
    "Oh, is that all, then..."
    "As for obtaining meat, I have a few ideas..."

    ***

    Jahjah regarded the slope in front of him thoughtfully and gave the pick an experimental swing. It sank into the ground with a dull thud. The dwarf frowned and took a few more swings, until he felt the tip strike something hard. Feeling thankful for his pig tail gloves, with a soft leather underlay, he dug into the snow and tore away at the thin layer of soil and wilted grass, revealing pale gray rock.
    "Slate."
    It wasn't the ideal construction material, but it would serve. At least the stone didn't let through water, so they'd stay dry once the melts started. That was the first reason he didn't want to dig through soil, even though it would've been much faster. The other one was that they needed stone for walls, furniture, mechanisms, tools, and whatever else Obadiah could come up with.

    But enough idle thoughts, the others were depending on him for providing them with shelter before the snowstorm got here. He swung the pickaxe, causing a large crack to appear in the rock.



    He didn't know whether he'd make it in time, or if they'll freeze to death, come next morning. he didn't think they'd see the end of the month on just a one barrel of ale.

    All he knew was, it felt good to have a pick in his hand again.


    ***


    And we're off.

    I wanted to post the map of the whole embark area, but the game crashes whenever I try.

    The second post is now updated with information about characters and deities (since people like to know about those for some reason). Jahjah's surname is awesome. Derek's and Raroy's deity: HOW APPROPRIATE.

    Next update Sunday evening or thereabouts.

  14. - Top - End - #44
    Ogre in the Playground
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Huh, you're doing it in 40d.
    If God had wanted you to live he would not have created me!

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Quote Originally Posted by ObadiahtheSlim View Post
    Huh, you're doing it in 40d.


    I'm pretty sure it's 0.31.05. All the new features (and all the bugs) seem to be there, at least. What makes you think otherwise?

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    I saw you had 2 horses. In 31.X you get 1 draft animal unless they changed it in 31.05. 40d gave you 2 random draft animals. Was always nice when you get a breeding pair.
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Oh snap, you caught me red-handed.

    I slipped in an extra horse just before embarking. Not because I needed it, but in order to maintain continuity - count the number of draft animals per wagon in the picture back in the first post. How was I supposed to know 0.31.x would reduce the number of wagon pullers?
    Last edited by Maxymiuk; 2010-06-05 at 12:46 PM.

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Question, can you turn one of those starting logs into a training axe for cutting wood? I think i remember hearing that you could do that.
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Yeah, the game lets you chop wood with a wooden axe right now.

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Suckers! I'm the only one with a tool, ha!

    And yes, I have an awesome surname.

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Easy with your Taunting JahJah, or Booze might not be the only thing in your barrel next time....
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Your name: Jaer
    Your preferred gender: Male
    Your profession (preferred/goal profession for anyone beyond the first six): Mechanic (and pump operator/siege engineer afterwards...maybe)
    Your reason for being called undwarven and exiled (optional for anyone beyond the first six): Was taken by a macabre mood, used a noble's corpse in crafting a mechanism.
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Your name: Thorik
    Your preferred gender: Male
    Your profession (preferred/goal profession for anyone beyond the first six): HammerDwarf/Captain of the Guard
    Your reason for being called undwarven and exiled (optional for anyone beyond the first six): Thorik was sent out together with 6 brave other dwarfs to strike the earth in an area rumoured to be particularity rich in metals and gems, whether the rumours were true can't be told even to this day, What can be told however is that the area was haunted and plagued with the unliving...

    After the cart had broken down and the expedition leader got promptly slain by a skeletal fox, Thorik reluctantly stepped up to fill the power vacuum. The stout dwarf vowed to lead the survivors home... The journey was hard and trecherous, three other dwarfs were lost along the way, and more if not all... would have perished if Thorik hadn't negotiated an ungodly pact with a band of kobolds.

    Once back at the mountain home one of Thoriks dwarven companions had mentioned the Koboldian pact while boasting in the legendary dining-room, Needless to say... the dwarves back at the mountain homes were not amused. and after (quite skillfully I might add) All the blame for the venture was shifted onto Thorik... he was expelled "to go... 'hug' a kobold or something".

    Thorik's creed: "Shame and dishonour are worth it if it saves the life of a dwarf"

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    At night they slept, huddled together in the steadily growing tunnel. By day they worked, ignoring the cold biting at their skin and the hunger crawling in their stomachs. They had next to nothing, but dwarves, of all the races of this world, were perhaps the best suited for surviving this ordeal. They had a natural affinity for improvisation, and an uncanny ability to adapt to any situation - a gift that couldn't be lost even after decades of soft living in the safety of a mountainhome.

    By the end of the first day, the wagon became several neatly arranged piles of its component parts. The large boards would go towards construction, the wheel spokes would serve as handles for makeshift tools, and there were countless uses for whatever bits of metal they could peel off, or tease out of the wood.

    Obadiah had been right in saying that, for the most part, their learned trades would do them little good right now. There was a mountain of work before them, and most of them would learn only by climbing it. That was the only way they could.

    ***

    "Can you make a crossbow?"

    Milski straightened with a groan. He'd been dragging the wood salvaged from the wagon deeper into the nook created by the western shoulder of the hill, where they'd be shielded from the worst of the snow. Once the underground space was expanded, it'd need to be moved inside to dry properly, but for now he turned to the dwarf who adressed him - Obadiah.

    "What?"
    "Do you know how to make a crossbow?" Obadiah repeated. "You said you're a weaponsmith."
    "Er... sure. I learned to make every weapon. I don't see how it matters though," Milski shrugged. "I'd need a forge for that, as well as an anvil, not to mention proper tools."
    "Of course. But I was thinking you could use some of that wood instead."
    "Wood?"
    "That's how they started out, actually. And in frontier settlements, where metal is a luxury, that's what they're usually made out of?"
    "Wood?"
    "I'm asking because Raroy spotted a herd of wild horses this morning, and until the snows thaw hunting is our best bet for acquiring food," Obadiah smiled weakly. "I know you're no carpenter, but you're probably the only one who would know where to even start. Can you see what you can do? I need to check on how Jahjah's doing with the digging."

    "A crossbow made of wood, huh?" Milski muttered to Obadiah's back, then snorted. "Why not. Already made a sword out of stone after all."

    ***

    Zazit grimaced when she saw who it was approaching her and laid down the chunk of slate she was hauling, adopting a challenging posture.

    "What do you want, elf-lover? I'm busy."
    "I need to talk to you," Obadiah sighed inwardly.
    "Talk. Then get lost," she sneezed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
    "You worked with bone, right? Do you know how to make bolts out of it? For a crossbow? We'll need them fo-"
    "Yes. That's all?"
    "Er, no. We don't have anyone who knows how to work with leather, but I was wandering, since you already know how to work with bits of animal, mayb-"
    "Fine."
    "But we- Oh, you'll do it?"
    "Yes."
    "And, er, you won't mind the smell? As I understand, the tanning process involv-"
    "I don't," Zazit snorted and spit out a chunk of phlegm. "Maybe the smell will keep you away from me."

    ***

    Jahjah frowned when the pick hit the wall - there was suddenly a lot more resistance, and above all, the strikes sounded different - a soft "ching" instead of a solid "chak." He ran his hand along the wall and found that a small piece of it was loose. He tore it away and walked towards the exit from the tunnel, where there was light, but even before he got there he could feel that the texture and the weight of stone was different - definitely not slate.

    Exposed to daylight, the rock revealed itself to be a chunk of grayish-white crystal. Moonstone. An inexpensive gem, still valued by jewelers for its color, which went well with almost anything. He knew many traders called it a "traveler's stone" and carried moonstone trinkets as luck charms on their journeys.

    He sighed and threw the piece of rock away. Their journey was over, and what they needed now was proper, solid stone. He hoped this gem cluster wasn't very large.

    ***

    "Are you sure you want to do this?" Obadiah asked again.
    "Yes," Derek nodded solemnly.
    "Because if no, I can easily ask Milski for help. Or Jahjah. Or do it by myself," he hefted the crude hammer - a piece of flat-topped stone tied to a spoke with a length of leather harness - in his hand.
    "I'll help."
    "Are you absolutely sure? I saw how you were around those horses on the way here," Obadiah indicated the one Derek was holding, that even now was exposing its flank to him, to be petted. "You like them and they like you. All I'm saying is, maybe it's not the best idea to watch me kill one."

    By a stroke of fortune the horses that pulled their wagon were a mare and a stallion - a breeding pair, and someone suggested keeping them alive for that purpose. But they needed food now, as well as the bones and leather that could be processed from the corpse. And, as Derek pointed out, with a herd of wild horses in the area, All they'd need to do was to stake out the mare in the field away from the camp and wait for one of the stallions to get interested.

    Of course, deciding to butcher a horse was one thing. Doing it was a whole other matter. It would be grim and bloody work, that Obadiah decided to do himself, so he was genuinely surprised when Derek offered to help, abandoning his attempts to turn the frozen ground into a field. And, truth be told, he was glad the smith did. The horse knew something was up, and balked when Obadiah tried to lead it away to the area he assigned as the butchery. Derek calmed it down, petting it, and murmuring assurances, managing to lead it to where Obadiah waited with the hammer.

    "I will not enjoy it," Derek agreed calmly, taking off his cloak and wrapping it around the horse's head, covering its eyes. "But I will stay."
    "Why?"

    The smith didn't answer, instead rubbing a piece of crushed mica between his thumb and forefinger, and using it to mark an "X" on the cloak covering the horse's forehead.

    "Would you want to die alone?" he said finally. "Make sure you won't need to strike more than once."



    ***

    This was the place.

    Raroy walked uphill, away from the camp. She had to hurry. She'd be missed soon - with just the seven of them here, there could be no anonymity. But she needed time alone. Time to see, to hear.

    Although eyes and ears didn't matter here. She [i]felt]/i] this was the place - her place in the pattern. Right here and now, this was where she was supposed to be.

    She stopped to gaze back, down into the valley. She saw snow-covered slopes and, far to the south, a forest. She would need to learn about this place, to know it as well as she knew the mineshafts back in the mountainhome. For that she would need an excuse. An explanation for long absences.

    Her eyes picked out movements across the valley, on the opposite slope. The herd she spotted earlier today, no doubt searching for food, the way animals always did. They would serve. She would go back to the camp and tell Obadiah he had a hunter.

    "WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME THERE WOULD BE SO MUCH BLOOD?!"

    But right now, she had a bit more time to look around.

    ***

    "And I suppose you'll be wanting me to deal with this," Celes pointed at the pile of... horse littering the 'workshop'.
    "Well," even though Obadiah managed to clean most of the blood off himself, but his clothes were already taking on a decidedly rusty tinge, "I thought that since-"
    "Save your excuses, chief. I'll do it."
    "Oh? You will?"
    "Well, yeah," Celes crossed her arms on her chest. "See, I figured something out."
    "Oh," Obadiah said with a sinking feeling of dread.
    "As it is, I'm the only one here who knows how to set up a still. And now you want me to take care of provisioning as well. So you know what I figure?" the brewer grinned. "I figure right now I'm the most important dwarf you have."
    "We all have vital jobs," Obadiah said, keeping his tone neutral. "No one dwarf can do every-"
    "Right you are, chief. We're all vital, every one of us giving all they have," she nodded amiably. "At least until the booze runs out."
    "Is there something you want, Celes?" he demanded a bit more harshly than he intended.
    "Who? Me? No," she smiled cheerfully and turned to walk away. "Just thinking out loud here."

    ***

    Years of traveling and studying various maps left Obadiah with a good sense of direction and a thorough knowledge of the lay of the land. Therefore, he had a good idea of where the soldiers have abandoned them, and where the nearest civilized settlement was. What he was not sure about, was whether he should tell the others about it.



    Even putting aside the fact that they were technically in human lands - the only reason they didn't encounter any on the way here was because their caravan traveled in the middle of winter (which, upon reflection, was probably the entire point) - the mountain range their tiny camp was huddled up against had a... reputation. He didn't know of any goblin forts, but strange beasts roamed the foothills, and even came down to attack the human settlements to the south.

    This valley seemed peaceful enough, for now, and he found himself torn between the obligation to warn the dwarves under his lead, and the fear that adding yet another worry to the mountain each of them already carried on their back would cause someone to break. No, better to keep silent for now. They had no weapons to fight back with anyway, even if they were attacked, and there was no point in having everyone jump at shadows.

    He hoped this was the right decision.


    **************************************


    Incidentally, does anyone know whether ice will melt if you mine it out and chuck it into an underground pit? A Cold biome means the spring thaw comes roughly halfway through Slate, and while I'm pretty sure I had dwarves survive that long without drink before, that was back in 40d, so I'd like to have an emergency backup plan just in case.

    And I'll have to say no to the "cut wood with wood" idea, since I'm convinced it's a bug and an unintended exploit.

    And silly just to say out loud.

    Next update probably sometime during next weekend.
    Last edited by Maxymiuk; 2010-06-07 at 06:39 AM.

  25. - Top - End - #55
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    Kobold

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Splitting wood with wood is not all that silly though.
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    BlackDragon

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Quote Originally Posted by Bayar View Post
    Splitting wood with wood is not all that silly though.
    That would really only apply to already-fallen trees, though. I think the idea that you could chop down a tree with an axe made of wood is not that far-fetched, though--it's just that the wooden axe has to be made of a much harder wood than the tree is (e.g. you could possibly use a mahogany axe to chop down pine trees). I don't know if Dwarf Fortress actually assigns different hardness etc. to all the different kinds of wood it lets you use, though!

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    As far as I know, your plan to get water by chucking ice underground will not work. If you had an aquifer, that work work perfectly for getting water. If you are really fast about it, you might be able to dig down to the caves before your dwarves die of thirst and then they'll all rush down to any water down there to drink.

    Otherwise, we'll probably lose 2 dwarves.

    As for wood hardness, I beleive that the games tracks hardness for all forms of wood. Whether or not it has proper values entered I do not know.
    Quote Originally Posted by Wardog View Post
    Rockphed said it well.
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    For a frozen wasteland, the best way to get water is to just dig a hole straight down to some water. Just dig stacked up/down stairs, locate the water, and then make a nice big pit from the water up to where you want your well. Just make sure you don't dig all the way up to the surface, or the square of water directly below the hole will freeze over. You can just have a well one z-level below the surface though if you don't want it going directly into your fortress. You should then follow this by sealing off the caverns with a hatch or something until you've got a military to take whatever's down there. Just make sure you don't lock anyone out.
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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    If you mine out ice - so it is in blocks on the floor like stone - it's useless and undrinkable. You need unmined ice walls. What you do, is dig down below the glacier, cause a part of the "under-ice" glacier to cave-in to a lower level, where (upon hitting the ground) it will promptly turn to water. If you have enough stuff between it and the sky - which probably means more than just the ice floor at the very surface - it will not re-freeze. If you don't have enough stuff, it does instantly re-freeze. So that can be a bit difficult, as glaciers are often just a few layers thick before hitting the sand or whatever beneath.

    One setup I saw that worked well was like this (side view):

    Code:
    =X===X=
    =.===.=
    #..I..#
    ##.#.##
    #..#..#
    #.###.#
    ### ###
    # is stone, = is ice walls, . is empty space you've channeled or dug out, X is the channels you dig on the surface, I is the one support (linked to a lever) holding the whole thing up until you pull said lever. The central 2x3xwhatever block then crashes downward, and the lower portions will turn to water and flow down into the side channels - under stone, so they stay liquid. The stuff left in the middle will re-freeze.

    You might be able to make this more efficient in terms of recoverable ice->water conversion, this is just an example.

    Oh, and add a Rollory dwarf to the list. Male mechanic and siege engineer, looking for a good place to experiment with quick-freezing water traps and devices.
    Last edited by Rollory; 2010-06-07 at 05:50 PM.

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    Default Re: All a dwarf needs - the saga of the Zuntir Clan (DF Community Fort)

    Great first I have to brew up enough alchohol to keep those 6 morons nice and drunk and away from me, but now im up to my beard in horse pieces. I hope you gys like horse giblet wine and -Mystery Meat Biscuits-.
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