40d:Stories/Archive 14

Town Astebkol^DF

Town Astebkol was a dwarf fortress with a population hovering around a hundred dwarves. They have been at war with Damsto Rost, a powerful tribe of goblins, for most of the fortress’ existence. Astebkol has weathered three sieges, each more brutal than the last.

The First Siege of Astebkol

The first siege was more of a raiding party than a true siege. About ten dwarves foolish enough to remain outside after the goblins were sighted were killed by crossbow bolts. The goblins then reached the main gates, which were, conveniently enough, left open. Their charge through the gates was blunted by a large array of traps, significantly reducing their numbers before Astebkol’s fortress guardsmen stepped in. Two guardsmen broke their charge, and then chased them back to the river and out of Astebkol territory, felling two thirds of the remaining goblins on the way.

The Second Siege of Astebkol

The second siege didn't go nearly as well. By this time, Astebkol’s population was nearing one hundred and twenty. A human caravan (with whom the dwarves were looking forward to some very profitable trade) had just arrived on the edge of Astebkol lands when Goblins were sighted. Uh Oh. The dwarves figured that the humans would have little trouble dispatching the goblins, and then the goblins’ equipment would be free for the looting. Instead, ten goblins riding powerful beak dogs arrived with a godlike shaman as their leader. They made quick work of the surprised humans and their wagons.

The goblins charged forward across Astebkol’s bridge. A couple dozen dwarves were drafted and they prepared to retreat into the mountain stronghold when they noticed that the goblins had a second wave of beasts inbound, TROLLS. A brief skirmish was fought outside the gates, with dwarf marksmen picking off several goblins and war dogs throwing themselves at the goblins with reckless abandon. Then the trolls arrived. They quickly destroyed the many outdoor workshops before joining up with the remaining goblins. The goblins and trolls charged the gates of my fortress, destroying the gates that stood in their way with ease. Fortunately, the dwarves had upgraded their traps since the First Siege of Astebkol, and most of the invaders were butchered. Three trolls managed to flee after carrying out some additional random destruction.

The dwarves took roughly twenty seven casualties in the battle, and lost almost all of their war dogs. Thanks to the work of the Captain of the Guards, tantruming dwarves were dealt with quite efficiently. In addition, the supplies from the destroyed human caravan were gathered by a river of dwarves flowing to and from the edge of the map.

The Third Siege of Astebkol

It looked like the end for Astebkol. Damsto Rost arrived for the third time, this time committing their entire army. Seventy-Seven goblins arranged in five war bands, all riding beak dogs, with multiple mace lords, sword masters, elite bowmen and a master lasher. Two of the war bands approached from the north, while the three others approached from the south. In addition, the master thief Zom Ngerxungodan, leader of Damsto Ross, appeared. If all this was not worrying enough, they brought another five trolls with them.

The battle began in earnest outside the gates of Astebkol, lands which had already been bloodied by two previous sieges. Nearly half the dwarves of Astebkol died skirmishing with the goblins outside of the fortress. The skirmish appeared to have been worthwhile, though, as two groups of goblins and the master lasher retreated after being bloodied by them.

The real fighting happened in the sleeping quarters and in the main hallway. The bulk of the trained dwarves were stationed at the end of a long row of traps behind the main gates. The goblins quickly took the gate and stormed down the hallway, taking some casualties from the traps. A fierce battle ensued at the end of the hallway, and most of the dwarves were killed in the fighting. The dwarves managed to wipe out one group of goblins that attacked there and sent another into a hurried retreat. After that, the trolls emerged from a side passage. They had stormed through a more southern entrance, wreaking havoc throughout the fortress. They were wounded by traps by this point, and did not survive long in combat with battle hardened dwarven soldiers.

Another group of goblins invaded from an entrance near the sleeping quarters, where the many wounded were already being kept. The fortress guards and the captain of the guard (a sword master) were fortunately already in the area, and a bloody battle ensued. Many of the wounded were massacred in their beds before the fortress guards could defeat the goblins. In the end, only one dwarf remained of the ten brave fortress guards and their captain, a Hammer lord named Tekkud Kelonam.

Only twenty seven dwarves survived the battle, most of which were wounded to some degree, were imprisoned in the jail or were nobles hiding in the dining halls. Goblin, dwarf and dog bodies littered the barracks, entryway, workshops and bedrooms of the fortress. There were far too many bodies for the few remaining healthy dwarves to dispose, and as a result, the stench of rotting corpses filled the fortress.

Damsto Ross lost many of her warriors that day, and her leader was captured in the battle. However, with the dwarves so severely weakened, it was at best a Pyrrhic victory. Astebkol limps on with the aid of dwarven immigrants, but it will take years to return her to her former glory.

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Oddom versus the Crocodile^DF

Oddom Dodókònul was mining to the east of the cave river, searching for ore and gems. The farmland on the west side of the river was, at the time being, deserted, aside from a single stray cat. Suddenly, in the center of the southern farm, a cave crocodile sprung from ambush! More specifically, it was an injured cave crocodile. More specifically than that, an unconscious injured cave crocodile. I don't exactly understand how it sprung from ambush while unconscious, but apparently it had.

Though the crocodile was perfectly harmless in its current state, its appearance at the very least frightened Oddom enough to give him pause in his endeavors. So, Oddom was drafted into a one-man militia, and he bravely and expediently tackled the situation. He did not miss a step as he walked right past the crocodile and finished the beast with a single blow from his trusty pick. Then, with the (admittedly minimal) threat handled, Oddom once again returned to his work across the river.

Of course, he left the crocodile corpse for someone else to clean up.

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Ingish Nailswords' Departure^DF

A tale of a Dwarven Hero, whose birth was mired in the death of a fortress, much like a phoenix from the ashes, or a maggot from a corpse. Kontun was the name of the city destroyed, and Ingish Nailswords the Survivor.

Ingish Nailswords was a dwarf ordinary and stout seeming at first. A miner of great skill, he was eternally at the head of the pack to go deeper into the mountain, crossing the great underwater river, the first to cross the great chasm, that his pick might dig out the emeralds that laid across, and he only stopped at the river of lava for want of a bridge to cross. His skill in war became evident when, with great majestic skill, he did fight three Macaques that emerged from the wilderness, managed to hold off with others of his mining team the teeming Toadpeople from the river, and in single combat slay a crocodile. Yet, he was no legend among the people, he was an old and weathered relic from the Founding of Kontun.

Until the day the madness came.

It was a sweet day in summer, sticky wild with life and food. The mountain hall was at ease, the smiths laboring to produce fine new swords to sell to the short lived men that would come to the mountain. The Captain of the Guard relaxed in his opulent quarters, confident and fat, idly admiring his fine masterwrought axe. The tavern was busy this night, with many a dwarf ruddy nosed and pleasantly half cotton headed. But there was one in this idyllic scene who clashed; who's very heart beat an unwholesome tatoo. Thikut Patternabbey was his name, and thrice cursed the day he was born. He was a man of crafts, an original akin to Nailswords, but where Nailswords sought the permanence of mined rock, Thikut could see only the immortality in history. He was a crafter of bone at first, carving and shaping the subtle soft frames of flesh, but when he mastered that, he wanted only more. He built halls, he blew glass, he sought status, he farmed, he fished, he brewed, he did everything a dwarf could do, mastering each and wanting more.

Perhaps it was the envy of never getting the power that he wanted, that he would dare strike a bargain with the Fey.

A great work he did, aye, a fine and impressive work, requiring ingredients a plenty. But oh, what terrible ingredients.

Melbil Actedmetals was a fine dwarfess, stolid member of the community, in fact, the Representative of the Order of the Axe. How ironic that her child would be used to make the finest axe ever seen across the Mythical Lands of the Griffon.

Her laments and cries of rage filled the fortress when she discovered her only beloved child dead, upon the floor of the bone crafter's shop, torn open and gutted like a fish. The criminal was nowhere near at the time, his white and red bone axe, Muzishdeler, "Martyred Steel", clasped tight in his bloody hands.

Twin killers, sparked by the same sin, one filled with glee, the other righteous rage, fell upon the fortress that night. Martyred Steel sang death and bloody joy to the ears of the unsuspecting dwarves, painting the halls and decorations bloody red. Actedmetals was in a berserk frenzy, lashing out at all that came across her. Slaying the Fortressguard, despite grievous injury, her gasping, torn and bloodied body leaning in the hallway, only too late could she see her son's killer, in his hands the bones of her beloved Otez. Slain among the bodies of those that she had killed in her terrible misdirected anger, one can only imagine the terrible crushing grief she had, before joining her son in the Allfather's hands.

This entire time, Ingish had been alone, mining far, far, far down, in search of some new vein, some new challenge. He was unaware that the flames of chaos and war had consumed his beloved home.

All around, the blood madness sang in dwarven hearts, halls splattered crimson again and again, as their minds, weakened with fear, succumbed to Muzishdeler's call. The Philosopher, Lanno, while trying to bring order was strangled to death by Ilral the Broker. The Duke Ilral Bodicedomains held a heroic last stand in his quarters, armed with naught but his fists against the mob of farmers baying for his blood. The Captain of the Guards, while trying to flee his doom was set upon by rabid Macaques, their terrible claws and piercing teeth ripping the living flesh off of his bones.

Then, all was silent.

The dying bled their last, joining the dead, while the fey possessed Thikut gazed on with joy upon his deeds, and walked out of the fortress, a rivulet of blood following him, crimson footsteps left behind on the grass.

When Ingish came home to sleep, he paused at the doorway, the body of fair Melbil facing him, torn to pieces, a crude picture of an axe written in her blood. He paused considering the scene, and with heavy heart, closed her eyes and moved on to his quarters, where outside the dying House of Rash representative related the sorry tale. Ingish, again overcome, could do naught but pass on the fair fellow, stepping over the corpse of an unfortunate minor, and then got in his bed, and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, he fell to sleep, his world shattered.

The next day, Ingish made an attempt at burying and cleaning the dead, looking for survivors, but soon realized it was futile. The burning brand of that day on his soul, Ingish turned aside, and left the fortress, never to return, axe in hand vowing revenge, and hoping one day, to meet the thrice damned Thikut, and slay him with the very instrument that he had betrayed his kith and kin with.

Ingish still walks the world today, axe in hand, obsessively training and searching for the one that laid Kontun, "Master Door", to waste.

The Real Story^DF

Okay, this all stemmed from my most successful game of Dwarf Fortress, in which I grew really awesome at producing crafts and selling them to humans for food (I never could get the hand of farming.). Anyway, Thikut was my awesome dwarf, the one that I obsessed over the most because he proved really good at everything he did. Ingish, I sorta got in my head was the retarded one, who would only be good at mining. To make a long story short, Thikut got possessed by fey, made a really awesome axe, (And randomly killed a dwarf while making it, no, it wasn't a bone axe, but a guy died somehow in the process), then my friggin' awesome warrior Order of the Axe Representative went nuts, along with Thikut, and the entire fortress fell into a bloody mess. I lost track of Thikut, he might have died, but Ingish was the only survivor. I found it really funny that Ingish just sorta stepped over everybody's corpses and went to sleep. I watched for a day out of fascination, but Ingish didn't really get affected all that much by the death of everyone else in the fortress. So, a little peeved, I abandoned the fortress and started up Adventure mode.

The same name pops up, of "Ingish Nailswords". A fluke of luck to be sure, unless Toady sneakily put in some REALLY cool code thing, but I played him and am having immense fun in imagining the backstory of Ingish. Who knows, I might run into a Thikut Patternabbey soon.

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The Transmuted Greaves^DF

One of my dwarfs was possessed and I watched him intently. The last few little fellows had either flung themselves into the river or stripped naked and starved to death.

He seizes my only Clothes Making shop, and sets to work gathering ingredients. I keep hoping that he won't hit a snag and sit in his shop pouting, but he diligently gathers materials. Oddly enough, he doesn't go for any rope reed cloth or silk thread, that stuff is for making pansy clothes. He goes for the big guns, gorilla leather, cat bones, and horse bones. Odd materials to be making simple clothes out of to be sure.

He begins his mysterious construction, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

A few days later he reveals his masterpiece- "Seizedgreeds the Ace Duty of Glazes" a Gold Greaves.

Wait, how did he forge golden armor out of leather and bone at a clothes makers shop? He didn't gain any legendary clothes making, leatherworking, bone carving, furnace operating, or armor crafting skill either, so I was fairly disappointed.

Luckily the greaves are worth 112,800, which is roughly 1/4 the net worth of my fortress.

Unfortunately the dwarf who made these greaves had since passed away in some unfortunate accident, and they are now being worn by my Expert Marksdwarf. Hopefully they offer some ungodly amount of protection.

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Kerligmosus^DF

I have never been able to write narrative. However, taking screenshots at the same time every year proved within my capabilities, so here is a Pictorial Chronology of Kerligmosus, "Shellrooms".

Chronology of Kerligmosus

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The Strange Case of Oddom Ulingmosus^DF

A dwarven caravan came to Vabokilral, "Orbtreaty", around the middle of the warm autumn that preceded the mild winter of our second year in the fortress. As such caravans are wont to, they brought with them bodyguards, three axedwarves. As one of these axedwarves, a certain Oddom Ulingmosus, came into view, so too did one of the many gorillas that roam our countryside. To shoo it from the caravan, Oddom made haste to attack it with his axe. He chased it a short distance before laying the finishing blow, at which time another gorilla came into view; Oddom hefted his axe and made chase again. Eventually the caravan crossed the river bridge and came to our trading depot, where they sold us several types of food (they drove too hard a bargain for us to relieve them of their dwarven cheeses). They left before winter came, and we went back to work. It was the next spring when one of our hunters, seeking gorilla meat for our legendary dining room, noticed the ground on the opposite side of the river was dotted with dead gorillas in various states of decomposition, and all bearing axe-marks. The cause was eventually discovered: Oddom Ulingmosus the caravan guard had been roaming the countryside all winter (thank the dwarven gods that we built in such a warm locale!) in a state of absolute madness, hacking into pieces any gorillas he saw, and it seems any leopards or jaguars when he had the time. He still roams the plains, axe in hand and insensate with strange rage. I fear he will not rest until he is dead or every gorilla on the plains has breathed its last. (Sidenote: This dwarf is now Unbelievably Tough from this, and I hope he automatically takes it upon himself to be my first line of defense if I'm ever attacked from the west, because I'm pretty sure he could singlehandedly defeat my entire military in battle.)

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How the Ultra-Mighty Have Fallen^AD

Id Smoothnessshot was as great a champion as the land had ever seen. Her prowess in battle was legendary. Her physique was flawless. She could dwarfhandle an entire herd of elephants unarmed. No foe had so much as winded the able Swordsdwarf for as long as anyone could remember.

It was thus on one moonless night that her mighty ego bested her. As a favor to the human mayor of Lakesvoiced, she had agreed to rid an ancient ruin of its evil ruler, Age Tomeslark. However, she set out for the dire campus too late in the day, and was annoyed to find her quarry obscured by nightfall. Rather than spend tedious hours combing the dewdamp earth for both her foes and the bejeweled trinkets that stirred their unbeating hearts, Id decided to disregard the low moans emanating from the unholy crypt and made camp instead.

Id's ability to sleep was as titan as her prowess in battle. Row after row of fleshless horrors descended upon the sleeping figure and rained blow after blow upon her until their bare bones threatened to unthread. One or two even managed to raise the faintest of welts upon the flesh they so deeply resented.

Id might have lived to tell the tale if not for the enterprise of one osseous apparition which placed a clammy grip upon her sword arm and wrenched the blade out of her fingers. Raising its prize above its head, the bloodthirsty being brought the traitorous blade down upon the bold dwarf's neck, banishing the champion to the mightiest sleep of all.

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Batmen meet Wile E. Coyote^DF

When I reached the chasm, I bridged it as usual. The batmen came, of course, and knocked a few hapless dwarves off of the bridge before I managed to widen it enough to keep the bungee-jumping to a minimum. After hearing tales of chaining guard dogs to keep them handy, I posted a few canine watchmen. The batmen continued attacking, of course, but now with an amusing twist: since the dogs were attacking the bats while the bats were still flying over the chasm, the bats would fall to their doom just a few seconds after being grasped by the dogs. Those poor, poor batmen.... did they learn nothing from Looney Tunes?

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Yes, very serene^DF

I had just started a new game. It was going pretty well, with my farm set up before the first summer and everything set up for the arrival of the first caravan. I had managed to make a few bone goods, hopefully to get a little more food out of the caravan.

The caravan arrives as expected, with only one snag : a herd of unicorns. The mules and traders all pass through without fail, but the bodyguards decide that they need to remove this "roadblock" and cheerfully tried to massacre the offending herd. Try being to operative term.

The caravan arrives at my trade depot, and start trading. Two bodyguards rejoin them, one having lost his life on the plains. One is wounded and the other didn't fight. Score for the other side : two dead unicorns.

While going to the trading list, a few objects appear. The equipment of the dead dwarf. I end up trading two pieces of it back for the contents of the whole caravan. The merchants seem to think that's a good deal.

Worse is : While going back, the only bodyguard not wounded decides that he needs to prove himself, and charges the herd. At odds of five against one. I don't need to tell you the result.

The worst aspect is that : I chose this place for being "serene".

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The madness of the Legendary Mason^DF

Sigun Shislikot claimed a mason's workshop, eventually creating the finest table in all dwarfdom. Some time later, he was struck with inspiration anew, and claimed the same shop. However, he was unable to procure the bones necessary for his creation, and eventually was driven mad.

He stormed into the dining hall and struck one of the soldiers seated at the main table. The soldier stood, threw Sigun into the chair opposite, and hacked his head off. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating the table and the floor. The soldier resumed his interrupted meal with his now headless table guest.

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I got better!^DF

Bomrek Morulokil was just emerging from his room one day after a long sleep, when a cave crocodile sprang from ambush. The surprised miner managed to put a pick through the crocodile's head, but not before losing his left lower leg to the beast's powerful jaws.

Anxious dwarves surrounded him. They carried him into his room and brought him water, and food, and eventually, Bomrek felt strong enough to stand again. He hopped out of his room and headed for the dining room. Another dwarf spotted him and dragged him back into his room, without a word. Bomrek demanded to know why he was being thrown in bed, but the dwarf simply muttered, "recover wounded" and left him.

Bomrek rose again, and hobbled out into the corridor. He had not gone ten feet when another dwarf saw him, and dragged him into a different room. Protesting loudly, Bomrek was thrown in bed.

Poor Bomrek has been unable to leave the dormitory area of the fortress without being dragged back to a bed to recover. No one believes him when he says that he is ok. He almost made it across the chasm bridge once, but an alert Fortress Guardsdwarf tackled him and threw him in the barracks.

(Probably a bug, but hilarious)

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Team Animal Squad^DF

It was a peaceful day in the history of the dwarven outpost of Bibanbim, the 7 occupants sleeping cozily in their wooden beds, dreams of success and fame in their heads.

Suddenly, out of the river, snakemen, 5 in all, rose out of the waters to feast upon these intruders. And feast they would, if they had not run into one problem.

Horses.

The horses, willing to save their dwarven owners, charged towards the snakemen, killing two and wounding one by trampling them with their terrible hooves, however, a horse went down, and the others started getting injuries as well. It seemed to be a stalemate.

Until the Doggie Brigade arrived.

The snakemen couldn't take it. One tried to limp away, in sheer agony, before seeing that adorable, fuzzy face sink its teeth into an arm. The snakeman screamed, and soon was no more.

The next morning, the dwarves woke up to quite a sight. There were 3 dead foals, a dead horse, a dead mule, 2 dead dogs and 2 dogs injured horribly. However, despite the losses, the dwarves worked together to haul the corpses and clean the blood before any terrible miasma could set in. Within moments, the fortress had returned to its normal, productive state.

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The Stampede^DF

Once upon a time (24 Opal, 1057, to be exact), in the not-so-great dwarven stronghold Nilaval, "Hammerloved", deep beneath the temperate mountains of Zilirushul Arkoth, there was a farmer named Vucar Rashbesmar. Vucar was not a very good farmer, but for some reason the cow, Unib Ostardoren, had adopted him as her keeper.

Unib was an ancient cow from a long line of noble and large cows. Indeed, she was one of the very pair who had spawned the entire Nilaval herd, now some 80 strong. Her sight was going and she gave little milk in her old age, but she was the matron of the herd, leading them around after her master, Vucar.

Now, on this mid-winter day, there was little farming to be done. All of the tallow was processed and stored in the strong and great dwarven barrels for the great winter, and all of the drink was brewed as well. So Vucar had decided to lend a hand to the miners as they opened an exploratory passage across the rift, in search of the great magma flow or even a coal vein, since lumber was getting scarce. Of course, Unib led her herd after him, much to the dismay of the miners as they squeezed past the cattle in the tiny passage and stepped in the leavings. There was much muttering and moaning, but the miners kept their peace for the most part.

Then suddenly from the rift sprang a terrible and vicious group of ant men! The fiends cut down several miners where they stood, and proceeded down the passageway towards Vucar, slaughtering several more of his helpless friends.

Vucar ran as fast as his stumpy dwarven legs could carry him, Unib and the herd on his tail. But it was useless! The dwarves, seeing the onslaught of ant-men coming towards the stronghold, had closed the great stone gates! He was trapped. He fell to his knees and quivered in fear as the ant men crossed the bridge, their legs clicking on the unworked stone floor, death in their eyes.

But Unib was not so cowardly. Her long life, dealing with cougars and groundhogs, had left her in a better position to deal with the threat than poor Vucar. With a mighty bellow, she head-butted the lead ant-man so hard that his head popped off and flew backwards into the chasm behind him, spraying blood and icor all about. Taking a cue from their matron, the rest of the herd charged into the fray amidst a chorus of mighty bellows, stamping upon the ant-men with their mighty hooves and goring them with their mighty horns.

The battle was short. In all, 13 ant-men fell, and not a single cow was killed. The city gates were reopened, and Vucar and Unib returned to their kin, victorious, the only survivors.