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Voting closed: October 08, 2015, 10:25:56 pm

[Bearskie]

Mandate #5: Proper Sentient Refuse Disposal

A proper disposal system for unsavoury sights that just refuse to rot away.



I have been working with the mechanics to build a device that will properly dispose sentient waste. The palisade Quasar erected helps but it is insufficient, as everyone agrees they still get the heebie jeebies when they are on refuse hauling duty.

These are the schematics for the device design as well as the user manual:

1. Unlock the door only if there is waste in the refuse stockpile that requires disposal.
2. Dwarves will store the refuse in the minecart.
3. Dwarves will trigger a pressure plate en route that opens the disposal hatch.
4. The minecart automatically dumps west into the disposal hole.
5. The hatch closes after 100 ticks, leaving the waste sealed in the pit.
6. If retrieval of disposed waste is required, use the manual access hatch beside the disposal hole.

WARNING: Do not leave the door unlocked all the time. Dwarves will dump everything from the refuse pile, even that fresh giant hamster corpse which you plan to butcher soon.
WARNING STEP 6: May induce bad thoughts and heebie jeebies.

Bearskie was pleased to have a mandate deadline met.


Human Summer Caravan



WHAT!? The people are telling me there’s a caravan coming over from the hills? But that's impossible – the mountainhome wasn’t due for another season! I rush over to join the crowd at the trade depot. Panicking.



Then I saw they were humans. The same moment at which I saw King Sibrek’s royal insignia on their shirts, and my heart sank - for I knew then it was time we had to surrender our blood, sweat and tears to the mountainhome once more. The will of the king demands it. Was twice a year not enough for them? Were they not satisfied by their constant pillaging of our stocks? Now we not only answer to elves and dwarves, but also to humans.



Why do the people not care about such blatant disregard? When their livelihoods are to slave over farms and oceans, they just stand there, jovially hauling trade goods to the depot. Our trade goods, crafted by our hands. Made in the grounds that we built. For a moment I had the urge to call for Taupe’s soldiers to attack, until I realised that they were outnumbered by the caravan guards. We were weak. We did not even have the might to stand against a single caravan – let alone the entire mountainhome.



There was to be no revolution today. I slunk ashamedly back to my room, leaving Quasar to handle the dealings.

Spoiler: Trade summary (click to show/hide)

471 prepared meals
2711 drinks
Value = 42301 Urists

Migration Wave #2: 11th Malachite 238



F-kin fisherdwarves.


Alright 'fess up, why didn't nobody tell me about the human caravan? Or am I just the first one to get it (That would be pretty interesting if it was actually).

Had to get some seriousness out of my system after all that dead baby humour in the previous update. It does good afterall to show different perspectives of the ruleset we're playing. Bearskie's pretty obviously anti-royalist, moreso considering he 'disregards tradition and does not respect the law', while 'deeply respecting those who work hard at their labours'.

Missed these btw:

Hardly fit for a mayor, though. I wonder if that boy has something else in mind for my own quarters?

Boy? You mean the guy who happens to be fifteen years older than you? O_o

I certainly cannot imagine any dwarf being willing to drink from that water source now, for all that it is a very nice well.

_cough.

[QuQuasar]

Erm. So Taupe’s just been sitting there ashen-faced for the whole day. Literally froze as soon as that giant hamster came barrelling into the dining room. I mean, it wasn’t even particularly threatening. The kids wanted to pet it, but a war dog nommed it to death.

         
That war dog is a goddamn hero. Give it it's own tomb with a platinum sarcophagus.
         

Jeez, you guys were absolutely spot-on about the giant hamster stuff going on. Any other predictions that coincidentally might have already happened?

         
Prediction: Weaponised Gemstone Titan
Prediction: The hill of death will finally do something after 3 years.
Prediction: The goblins will arrive, but they will be friendly. We will have tea.
         

Sentient refuse disposal

         
Sooo... we're going to have a single-tile pit full of the corpses of everything we kill in it? That's awesome. Kill enough stuff, and it should eventually be able to send dwarfs mad simply by making them look into it. The only way it could be better is if it was underground, so as to produce a steady plume of miasma.
         
It's a good call though: my parallel-universe breadbowl has been having stress problems as a result of an overabundance of troglodyte corpses (we never got a gemstone titan, so the caverns have been open for a while. Been catching elk birds).
         

Hardly fit for a mayor, though. I wonder if that boy has something else in mind for my own quarters?

Boy? You mean the guy who happens to be fifteen years older than you? O_o

         
Pish posh! I'm a fat bald noblewoman now. If I don't juvenilise dwarfs of a lower station than I, how will they ever respect me?
         

cough

         
You... you didn't floor over the well. They're still using it. Oh dear Tecak.
         
"Baby water! High in protein! Keeps your beard fresh and your skin smooth!"

[Taupe]

Sooo... we're going to have a single-tile pit full of the corpses of everything we kill in it? That's awesome. Kill enough stuff, and it should eventually be able to send dwarfs mad simply by making them look into it.

You meant ''make proud'' of course.

[QuQuasar]

Sooo... we're going to have a single-tile pit full of the corpses of everything we kill in it? That's awesome. Kill enough stuff, and it should eventually be able to send dwarfs mad simply by making them look into it.

You meant ''make proud'' of course.

No no I was being literal. There's likely to be a whole lot of "horrified to see [creature] die" thoughts waiting in that pit. If you eventually get enough of them in the same place, you've got a rather inventively cruel way to kill off useless dwarves dangerous criminals.

It's like the total perspective vortex, only with corpses instead of the entirety of of reality.

[Bearskie]

Yeah, I have got one of those in my main fortress. It took what, about 10 years of sieges and sentient murders, but we can now go from zero to insane in about one month worths of 'perspective'.

[Bearskie]

Mandate #6: To Catch a Forgotten Beast

Beneath the depths of the world, the gem titan Thol-Anan sleeps in eternal slumber. Until it hears the dull crack of a pick, a faint echo, coming from a world beyond its reach. It casts its peridot eyes upwards as the sylvite ceiling crumbles, and gazes unto the face of the dwarf who knows he has dug too deep.

First you hear a low rumble as the stones, the trees, and the entire cavern trembles in silent unision. Then an explosion of dust knocks you off your feet, sending you careening across the floor with deadly-enough velocity. Before you know it, Thol-Anan’s above you, or rather his foot is above your skull, and your skull's on the cold hard ground. Life suddenly ends in shades of peridot green. Some manage to run away fast enough, aye. But then the fever sets in. Then the blisters. Soon you pass out. And if you’re still alive after spending the week unconscious on the cavern floor with Thol-Anan and everything else around, then you deserve to be.

Thol-Anan. Our very own doomsday creature come to murder us all. I’ve not seen it yet, but I’ve heard the accounts from those brave few who went down into the caverns. Thol-Anan is dangerous, but Thol-Anan is also powerful. So powerful. Imagine what we could do if we had such power. None shall be able to stand before us. Not even the great dragon of yore. Perhaps not even the mountainhomes.

The mechanics have been told to keep this plan a secret. Goodness knows how many dwarves already look upon the beast as an omen of imminent death. I have no time to entertain such feeble superstitions, not when my mandates are already being questioned on a daily basis. They do not understand; they never do.



We dig out a tiny enclave by the seaside; within it is a passage that will lead directly downwards into the caverns. Most importantly, a sliding bridge controls access to the passage. When deactivated, it will slide back and trap whatever creature happens to be in the room at the time.



The room itself is haphazardly outfitted with old constructs plundered from the nearby furniture stockpile. As an afterthought, I grabbed a puppy from the dining room and placed it there as well. One can never have too much bait.



Everything is complete. The last inch of stone separating us from the caverns crumbles apart, and the miner hurriedly rushes back upwards, taking care to sidestep the placed cage traps.

Now we wait.


The mechanics rushed over to me this morning – they said they’ve caught something! Nerves jangling, we hurry towards the trap site. I can hear muffled grunting. Does Thol-Anan grunt?



Welp, I think we just got trolled lads. Damn. How did he even get by the cage tr-



Nobody thought of putting CAGES in a CAGE trap? Christ, and you call yourself mechanics…



I actually had to call the military in for this. Tecak knows what they were thinking behind those expressionless faces when I told them about the trap room. Under Taupe’s orders they nonetheless took their formation as the wall was deconstructed. There was bloodlust in their eyes.



They were frighteningly effective. It was left to us to clean up the grisly remains. The puppy was nowhere to be seen, but we armed the cage traps anyway and resealed the area.

Now we wait.
And we wait.
Still waiting...




This pretty much continued on for the rest of the year – Thol-Anan just sitting in the water with zero movement whatsoever. He’d only attack something if they came up right next to him, and even then he was still stuck in the same tile. Weird bug. I was pretty much resigned to nothing happening, but on the final month of Obsidian, I noticed a combat report.



Thol-Anan was free, and it was on the hunt.






“What do you mean, it vanished?”

“We cannot locate it sir. There is no evidence Thol-Anan is still within this cavern layer; we have not detected any tremors for a month now. It seems to have disappeared.”



“Great big beasts made out of sparkling gems don’t just disappear, my friend.”

“Perhaps not sir. But wherever it has gone, we cannot detect it any further.”




Bearskie feels uneasy to have a mandate deadline missed recently.

[QuQuasar]

It just left? Do they do that? I thought they wandered the caverns forever if you didn't take matters into your own hands.

Well, you tried. I guess now it's time to open up the caverns and start up the Giant Cave Spider trapping and breeding program.


Hey Taupe, you know how badass you were taking down that Giant King Cobra with only a bronze spear?

I think think this ten year old in parallel-breadbowl has you beat.




Tales from a Parallel World

To His Highness, King Sibrek Logemtad, Low King of The Old Nets,
 - from the pen of Quasar, Mayor and Overseer of Imarust, "Breadbowl"
 - on behalf of Baroness Medtob, Butcher and Tick Slayer.

It is fast approaching the anniversary of the founding of Breadbowl. I beg to report the settlement has been a complete success.

* We have begun breeding programs for a variety of rare wild animals, including Rhinocerii, Giraffe's, Elk birds, Draltha, Monitor Lizards and Cave Crocodiles.



* Much of our settlement is built of wood, in homage to Neblime, our Head Carpenter, who was sadly slain at the hands of an Ettin in our second year. Nonetheless, the value of our rooms exceed even those of the mountainhome, due to an abundance of iron, silver and gold.

* Under the tutalage of Head Grower Bearskie, our planters are growing a wide variety of rare tropical crops, including Taro, Cassava, Watermelon and Passionfruit, as well as the more usual staples of Rye, Maize and Rice.

* We are harvesting a wide variety of native fruits and nuts, including Carambola, Rambutan, Coconut, Cashews, Olives, Citron's and Limes, and Head brewer Psychoangel is brewing them into some of the most delicious alcohols known to the world.

* We have had our first encounter with the Vile forces of Darkness. Our militia, lead by our legendary commander Taupe and outfitted in steel by our experienced armour and weapon-smith Zaneg, experienced utter victory and annihilated the enemy without so much as a scratch.

* Even our civilians are proving formidable. An unarmed child kicked a Giant King Cobra so hard i nthe nose it exploded, and an equally unarmed clothier punched a Giant Cave Spider to death before it could loose any web or harm any dwarf.

The dwarves of breadbowl believe we have proven ourselves out here, King Sibrek, between the Forest Of Tempests and the Hill Of Death.

Thus, it is with only the mildest tinge of regret, the redundant remnant of the loyalty I felt so strongly in my youth, that I announce that we will no longer be sending you the food and drink we have worked so hard to produce these many years.

The Farm Of Hammers no longer need you.

The Farm Of Hammers no longer fear you.

We have a new Monarch. A Ruler who cares for us. A Sovereign who will lead us to victory against Goblin, Elf, Human and, yes, Dwarf alike.

To think, I once condemned our Queen to the magma. But down there, lit by the forge of the earth, reflected off of purest Adamantine, I stared into Her eyes, and I knew destiny. The magma could not have destroyed Her. I doubt anything could have.

We will take this world from the unworthy in Her name. We shall trap spider, crocodile, even dragon on Her behalf and lead armies of fell beasts against the heathen mortals. From her glumprong throne, the empress shall rule over all the unworthy mortals of our world.



We take upon ourselves a new name, a name beffitting the civilization destined to rule this world under the paw of a goddess.

We are The Hammer Of Hamster.

And we'll be seeing you shortly, King Sibrek.

Yours kindly,
Quasar,
Head Cook of Imarust, "Breadbowl"

[QuQuasar]

(Epilogue)

Instead of a caravan, the next year's Autumn saw the dwarves of The Old Nets send their entire army to Breadbowl. This move was widely criticised as an overreaction, until the dwarves of Breadbowl put up a surprisingly effective defence. With losses of 10 to 1, it was only through sheer numbers that the regiments of King Logemtad managed to overrun the small farming village and massacre it's residents.

Eventually, the rebel dwarves were subdued and the "Empress" of breadbowl was captured. The hamster now resides in a cage in the quarters of King Sibrek Logemtad, as a demonstration of the folly of rebellion against the King.

There are rumours that if you place your ear to the door to the kings quarters late at night, the king can be heard speaking in hushed, paranoid tones to the creature. These are of course nothing more than rumours, as no dwarf would dare try to eavesdrop on His Highness.

[Bearskie]

What have you done Quasar? What in Armok's name have you done.

It just left? Do they do that? I thought they wandered the caverns forever if you didn't take matters into your own hands.

I'm surprised you haven't figured it out actually, since you've been playing the alternate save as well. Our cavern has a downwards passage (which I forgot to screenshot) which leads directly into the second cavern. Since we havent explored that far, we couldn't track Thol-Anan when it descended into deeper levels.

What this means is that as long as that downwards passage is not sealed, Thol-Anan has free reign over two cavern layers. Fractured and maimed he is, he remains extremely dangerous with his deadly dust. Would not recommend direct confrontation.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Edit - Speak of the devil, I found the screenshot.

[Taupe]

Man, outdone by a child...

If we have the steel, may I request that my dwarf be upgraded to a steel spear, before he grows attached to his current iron spear?

[Bearskie]

Mandate #7: Introduction to Landscaping

A sea-based moat designed to secure a defensive perimeter around Breadbowl in order to keep dwarves in – and foreign threats out.

I had a dream last night.

They were coming in from over the Hill of Death; score upon scores of goblins, moving like shadows and lightning through the glumprong woods. Our military fought like demons against the rising tide, iron to iron, blade to blade. United they stood against the wave of darkness that came pouring through the trees, and for a moment we felt faint hope burning within the depths of our hearts. But all hope was lost as I looked towards the western plains. From the branches of the Jungles of Twilight came the elves with their ferocious war beasts, each of which towered over a dwarf many times over. And from the seas beyond, I saw legions of humans sailing forth on their wooden ships, their masts spread wide in a declaration of war. I turn away; I look skywards. High above the horizon, there is a dark shadow beyond the clouds; its wings menace with spikes of ivory. It is burning the sky. I am burning.

Alright, that’s it. Dream or no dream, Taupe was right – we were frighteningly exposed out here on the surface. This wasn’t a dwarven fortress, where entire sections could be sealed at will with a strong enough drawbridge. We weren’t elves either, who could escape upwards and flee through the treetops.

So, think then. What would the humans do?




I wasn’t expecting the uproar caused by the suggestion of a simple moat – but I guess I should have. You’re going to drown us all, they said. We’re all going to end up like poor Lor, they said. It’s a sheer waste of dwarven labour, they said. They better get to work or they’re going to find themselves on the wrong side of the moat, I said.



Digging the moat was actually the easiest part; excavating soil and loam was trivial compared to actual rock mining. Sure, there was some spillage and babies separating from their mothers when the lakes were mined out, but on a whole nobody really died.



Tricky part was filling the moat itself. For this, we relied on two pumps working in tandem from both ends of the moat. By connecting each of these pumps to a power source, they would continuously pull in water from the ocean. Or at least, that was the theory. Realistically, we ran into problems when the eastern ocean pool wasn’t generating water fast enough for sustainable flow. Someone suggested channeling to connect the pool to the main ocean, but it didn’t help too much. Disappointed, I ordered the channel to be sealed up.



I guess we’ll just have to rely on the southern pump then, which fortunately is working like a turbo drive. The mechanics did a good job on that one. It’ll take a while, but the moat’s not going nowhere.



Specifically, it took approximately three months to fill; but by then, I’d already noticed some strange things while scrolling through the units list…



Huh. I didn’t really care much about two rangers; they were pretty much dead meat by then. Anyone that fell into that pool was very unlikely to escape, considering it was a full 2-z’s of water with sheer walls. But I was curious - how did they end up down there? I supposed it was because they were walking too close to the pool and fell inside, so I declared the pool itself a restricted-traffic area.



I didn’t really start to panic until I saw this.



SHIT SHIT THAT’S OUR >>LEGENDARY<< ARMORSMITH!!! SHIIIIIIIT. Shit. I’m so fucking dead. We just lost our legendary armorsmith. This is worse than losing half the fort. QUASAR AND THE OTHERS ARE SO GOING TO KILL ME AAAAAAAAAAA *bashes keyboard* WYUIEY()&*YD&(Y&*YYDUIOHJKDH-



Wait what. Holy shit, HE’S CLIMBING UP THE CHANNEL GOD He’s gonna surviiiiiii- wait a second.



Fuck.

Fuuuuuck.

I ordered that channel to be floored over, didn’t I.



FUCK NO DONT GET PUSHED BACK DOWN INTO THE POO- OH GOD NO HE JUST GOT DUNKED AGAIN.

Thus began the most tense fifteen minutes I’ve ever had playing DF, as I carried out an emergency rescue operation in order to save the most precious dwarf in the fort. These are my exact notes.



DECONSTRUCT THAT GODDAMN FLOOR DAMN YOU LITTLE MIDGETS THIS IS MAXIMUM PRIORITY, BURROW EVERY BLEEPING DWARF IN THAT 4x2 SQUARE GOGOGO.

YES HE’S CLIMBED BACK UP THE CHANNEL HOLD ON MAN HOLD OOONNNNN *He gets flushed down into the pool again* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

GET THERE YES GET THERE DECONSTRUCT THAT FLOOR GRHHHH COME ON

WHY ON BLOODY ARMOK DOES DECONSTRUCTING TAKE LONGER THAN CONSTRUCTING

HE'S DROWNING AGAIN I DON’T GET IT JUST SWING YOUR BLOODY PICK AT THE BLOODY FLOOR DAMN IT

SHIIIIIT NO HE JUST GOT UP FOR AIR AND NOW HE’S DOWN AGAIN AND HE'S SO GONNA DIE

…

… he’s dead isn’t he.

…



FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKYTEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGFFFFFFFFFFF

Holy. Shit. There was no way I thought a dwarf could’ve survived that at all. There were moments after a long dunk where he surfaced for a mere second and the flow pushed him back down underwater again. So many moments I could’ve swore the game was intentionally fucking with me, just waiting to cruelly drown him as soon as I deconstructed the floor.

But hooooly shit. This guy. He had the stamina to climb repeatedly up the channel, to survive being dunked countless of times. In-game he was probably in the water for an entire week, perhaps more. Imagine being in that sort of situation - an entire week clinging onto a rock for your dear life, while the waves continuously push you underwater again, day after day, night after night.

You, sir, are a fucking legend.



After a swift investigation, I discovered the culprit – three sandstone rocks which were left behind in the channel. I had accidentally ordered them to be used in constructions due to their proximity. As the area was frequently in 1-2 depth water, the dwarves blissfully wandered into the channel without fear, and got swept away by the flow.



Unfortunately, I made another discovery as well. I discovered that the two rangers weren’t the only ones who perished.




He was the second youngest of us Founders: Psycho. I remembered his boisterous personality. Always joking around with the Le Grande Soaper act. He had that magic when it came to people, that rare twinkle of charisma that puts us all at ease. Unlike so many of us, he bonded well with everyone, and shared no grudges. I’d like to believe I was his friend, but now I don’t know anymore. Now he was dead.

They were having a memorial party downstairs, both to mourn the dead, and to celebrate Olon’s miraculous survival. Everyone was to be there – Olon himself, the families of those dead rangers, and the other Founders. I couldn’t bear to look them in the face anymore, not today. Just want to sleep over it and forget about it all. When I sleep, I no longer dream of goblins and dragons. My dreams now only consist of the sound of sloshing water, and the clammy hands that drag me beneath it.

Bearskie feels conflicted to have a mandate deadline met.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Sorry Psycho  Bummer. I got the three of you some very nice memorials though. If you want a redorfing, there's this one guy who may interest you...

Spoiler: Likot Earthscribe (click to show/hide)

Taupe: Haven't started steel production yet as there's no flux (unfortunately). I've actually finished playing the turn, but the writeup's going to take 2-3 more days because of uni stuff.

[QuQuasar]

Olon Wipedstandard: Legendary Armoursmith, Marathon Swimmer, Once Made A Cap. I nominate Olon for elevation should King Sibrek make us a barony. He's earned it.
         
Shame about Psychoangel, but he died doing what he loved: drowning horribly after being drafted into the construction of a megaproject in a fort that has no soapmaking workshop.
         
Nice work on the moat: I like the perfectly circular shape. The geometry of the village is going to get interesting in the future, with overseers having to follow that shape on the first few layers rather than just expanding willy-nilly the way I did. I think it's safe to say you've left a permanent mark on the settlement.

[Hiddenleafguy]

Unless someone pumps magma into it, then all we have is a massive circle of volcanic glass.

[Taupe]

Nice work on the moat: I like the perfectly circular shape. The geometry of the village is going to get interesting in the future, with overseers having to follow that shape on the first few layers rather than just expanding willy-nilly the way I did. I think it's safe to say you've left a permanent mark on the settlement.

Pretty much my thoughts on the matter.

[QuQuasar]

Worth noting: a whole week spent drowning in a pipe being thrown backwards and forwards by the current, bashing against walls, floor and ceiling, finally culminating in the rescuers deconstructing the roof and Olon hauling himself onto dry land, and what's his immediate reaction?"
               
"Better go smelt some limonite."
               
Dwarves, man.