Caravan, Kobolds...

Traders arrived - apparently they had managed to find us, lost here in the edges of this hellish mountain range. Wiping off goop, they settled down in our depot (thoughtfully built outside the area where the bad rain falls) and unloaded a wide assortment of wonderous goods.

We told them we wanted the food, and the booze.

Negotiations for as much food and booze as possible (trading our wide array of stone artwork, and cut lapis lazuli) are ongoing.

While Esran was taking a handful of marquis cut lapis lazuli to the trade depot, who should make an appearance than a band of sneaky kobolds, stealing in to the shadows of the fortress to try to make off with some of our riches. I suspect these were the most desperate or stupid kobolds in the history of that not particularly bright anyway race.

The first was spotted, and immediately the cry went out for the militia to pursue it, and try to stop it getting away. The militia (daydreamweaver) scrambled to catch it, but she was too late - it scurried off out of sight just as she realised that maybe she should have brought an axe with her.

She quickly looked round to check noone had saw her mistake, and found herself starting straight at a beady pair of red eyes - another kobold.

Not for nothing did I mention her prodigious strength. The kobolds dagger skidded along the leather of her cloak, before her fist sunk into the scrawny creature's belly. "The kobold feels extremely nauseous".

The kobold didn't get another swing. He lay on the ground, vomiting, as in quick succession our brave militia locked and broke his arm, shattered the other arm with a kick, bruised his liver with another mighty bodyblow, and then caved in the hapless creature's skull with a punch, stopping only to vomit from the goop that fell on them during the fight.

Lieing on her back next to the kobold's corpse, she looked up in to the sky, and saw white flakes drifting down towards her.

Winter has come.

Damn parrots

As an aside, a flock of keas (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kea) have been stealing items from the old wagon site, while we desperately try to get them all indoors.

Occasionally one is hit by a blob of goop, and lies vomiting on the ground until it expires, but so far they have stolen a number of spools of thread, some cloth, and a quiver.

Thieving parrots :-(

A short tour of FortressLovely

They had trekked for miles to get here, and the ragtag band of hardy travellers had nothing left to say to each other, stomping out the miles in silence. It should only be a few hours walk now, until they reached the shelter of the fortress which they had been assured lay to the North.

Then the rains came. Not water, but some horrid yellow stuff which clung to the skin. Inan retched, a steam of bile spilling from her mouth. The vile rain bounced off the huge broad shoulders of Esran, hammering at his mighty frame, and doubling him over in a long goodbye to his lunch. Soon they were all at it, and it wasn't long before Esran was taking sidelong glances at his two children - checking the little things were holding up against the conditions.

They staggered on in misery, coated now in the gunk. Just when Esran thought that they could not make it another few minutes, the rains let up and in front of them a figure appeared, waving.

"Come on, come on - you'll need to get that stuff off you"

---

Esran and the rest of the party were shown in to the fortress, trying hard to smile politely at Tigerpixie's tour.

"This is the entrance"



A thick layer of the goo lay all around as she led the party in between the two mounds of rock, and through a door in the rockface. The corridor was filled with blood and vomit, and Esran made an annoyed sound at his elder child, as it leant over and contributed to the mess.

"This is the upper level - that's the bedroom on your left, and the temporary workshops on your right. A bit further on your right is our dining room"



Esran looked in dismay at the single table standing amidst a pile of furniture and various foodstuffs. Looks like they've spent more time vomiting than working here...

"Going down the stairs, you have our water source where you can clean up - believe me, you'll be wanting to come here often. The first lever you get to controls the floodgate that lets water in to our reservoir. The second opens the reservoir to flood our farmland. Probably best not open both at once"



Esran barely heard the next part, as he washed the muck off his face and clothes, and almost immediately started to recover. It was something about a farm level, with a water tunnel dug to the stream.



"And beneath that," continued Tigerpixie "our miner is digging deeper, so that soon we'll have our own rooms, further from the workshops so the noise doesn't wake people, and a dining room and we won't have to go outside as much"

Esran completely failed to notice the slightly desperate edge in her voice - he was never the most empathetic of dwarves, and now all he wanted to do was sleep.

Meet the First Settlers of FortressLovely

A brief introduction to the motley band which is currently spending half their time building a fledgling fortress, and half their time violently vomiting and rushing to the water to wash off the repulsive goo that regularly rains down in this area, coating everything in a yellow, nausea inducing muck.

Ajntornj - Our stone specialist, with skills in masonry, engraving and architecture. He's fat, and has the most awesome facial hair: A long moustache which he keeps neatly combed, and a long beard with double braids. Currently (as I type) dodging through goop pools to erect our trade depot outside.

Anita - Our brewer and cook. Extremely skinny, with a burning hatred of blood gnats. I've never met a blood gnat, and I'm not sure she has, but she really doesn't like those things. She's just been adopted as our part time butcher, as both our pack animals died when the grass got covered in repulsive goo, and we need the meat.

Casidhe - Despite not having had much work to do, Casidhe has suffered the most for the fortress, as those without specific jobs have had more reason to venture outside, and collect the pile of goods left by our wagon. That will change though - she has just put the first seeds in the ground, and we will soon be relying on her to keep us fed. She is scrawny, with a raspy voice.

Daydreamweaver - Our protection against whatever this land will throw at us, Daydreamweaver brought her trusty axe. So far, it's only been used against trees (which we consider to be proxy elves, so it's no bad thing) as she also works as a woodcutter. She is something of a glass cannon warrior - very strong, but also flimsy and slow to heal.

Gedhrel - Gedhrel is often seen wandering around the fortress, clutching some box of gears or elaborate cantilever arrangement, on his way to setting up the traps, floodgates, levers and other moving parts of our new home. When he isn't mechanicing he makes beautiful object's d'art from spare gabbro stone. He is in constant competition with Ajntornj, as he has similarly impressive facial hair.

Spike - Spike likes hornblende, tin, onyx opal, giant moon snail shell, the colour turquoise, mail shirts, and spears. We don't have any of those things, but he is one of the happiest dwarves in the fortress at the moment. Given his skill with a pick, he spends all his time inside, hacking at the rockface, carving out the fortress. This means he spends less time in the vomit inducing goop rain than any other dwarf.

Tigerpixie - Tigerpixie dabbles. She made the wooden beds we currently share, and will make more when we have enough space dug out for individual rooms. She also helps Spike down in the depths, adding her tunnelling ability to his. Secretly though, she has been studying negotiation and influencing, and has ambitions to lead the fortress. When it comes time to appoint a leader, she would like a chance to lead. Still, she isn't sure she deserves it - she notably lacks confidence in her abilities.

And that's the starting seven :-) If anyone else wants a dwarf, let me know, and you can have the first immigrants. Otherwise, watch this space for more vomiting, digging and evil parrots. I kid you not.

Strike the Earth

After one false start involving a critical bug in the first release, we are off. I used tigerpixies fort name suggestion.

Behold - the future site of "Geshudaval Tecak Kal". In dwarf fortress dwarvish that means "FortressLovely, the Sweetness of Smiles"

(there was no dwarven word for Anita)

We're at the bottom of a glacier. You can see a frozen stream passing over the bare rock before it plummets many metres down a (now frozen) waterfall. There is some greenery - we are right at the snowline, at the start of Spring.

The area is rumoured to be haunted. Some madness has brought us here - perhaps an administrative error, maybe someone settling a grudge. Suffice to say the sooner we are all underground, the happier I'll be.

Still, we'll show them, right? This certainly won't end in some sort of undead driven clusterfuck? Nope.

Watch this space for dwarf assignments, as well as progress reports! For FortressLovely!

Not dead (soon though!)

I haven't posted here in ages!

So the new dwarf fortress is out, and I'm going to organise brave and valorous dwarves in an expedition to find out what the new ways to lose are.

I did something that finished about a year ago, where I posted about the progress of a fortress and named dwarves after my friends and watched them tantrum and fight and kill goblins with ease because they were combat machines and get ripped up by trolls and refuse to perform surgery on their true love because they really needed a little more booze.

If I did that again, would anyone be interested?

It's hard being an artist...

Dakost arrived at Denpaged in early 1054. He had an eclectic mix of skills from his previous jobs, especially of note were his ability in trapping, and his experience operating furnaces. He was looking forwards to fitting in, and was whistling happily to himself as he marched jauntily down into the darkness of the mountainhome.

He stopped in amazement - Was that...surely it couldn't be...but it is! it is! Casidhe, legendary weaponsmith, creator of Ogtummosos Morasstragic? Should he say something? Should he play it cool..oh my! she was looking at him! At him! and walking towards him and...

BAM!

She strode past, as Dakost sat whimpering, clutching his bruised arm.

"Casidhe Runecrafter enjoyed starting a fight recently."

(Casidhe had a masterpiece destroyed. It might well have been a bolt that she made, but whatever it was, she was distraght and is currently storming through the fortress, throwing things and beating up noobs. This is more serious than Persephone's tantrum :-( I hope she gets through it)