Hoofdye
We've been playing a lot of Dwarf Fortress lately.
I've been playing a fortress called Hoofdye. When my dwarves arrived, they found a valley where the heads of two rivers meet and flow in opposite directions. I had my miners immediately secure the area by cutting off the surrounding hills to make cliff walls, and then I had them carve out a moat feeding off from the rivers. This left enough land in the middle for my donkey (who is blessed with repeated immaculate conceptions!) and a few other livestock. I also set up a dog field and began breeding for large, muscular dogs to augment the military. And I sent my dwarves digging an orderly underground complex.
Unfortunately, my dwarf population shot up rapidly and they nearly all starved. I ended up having to slaughter almost all the animals. Even though Hoofdye is on a main road, there are no elven traders, and human traders only show up every other year or so. It was a whole year before dwarven traders-the only traders that year-arrived. Before they showed up, though, one of my soldiers went berserk with hunger and beat up the expedition leader. He was taken to the hospital, but my doctor was completely inexperienced-he had never so much as cleaned a wound in his life (not that we had any soap anyway...). He patched Logem up as well as he could just as the dwarven caravan arrived, but Logem died in the middle of his meeting with the outpost liaison. The liaison left furious-which stymied our trade agreements. It was six years before the liaison came back.
About this time, the first crops ripened and the fortress was saved-just barely. The dogs starting being productive about this time, too, so many puppy roasts were had. We made puppy bone arrows for the hunters, puppy tallow soap for the hospital, and puppy leather bucklers for the military.
Unfortunately, the next few years were touch and go. Goblin thieves kidnapped 7 children and murdered an 8th. Goblin ambushers slaughtered every caravan that came through-we had to wall ourselves up inside Hoofdye, which stuttered productivity-and we were haunted by the ghosts of the casualties outside.
Through the constant goblin sieges, we managed to sneak a rag tag human caravan in. We traded (oh, thank god), but the siege worsened in meantime, and we could not lower the drawbridge lest the goblins overrun us. The humans wandered about the grounds until they went berserk. Fortunately, the goblins on the other side of the moat kindly picked the humans off with their arrows before they killed any dwarves. Our wealth increased that day; we smuggled in all the trade goods thrown about by the crazed humans, and we regained everything we sold to them.
Eventually the fortress was attacked by a were-antelope. The were-antelope killed a dog then transformed into a human. My soldiers tried to kill him, but he was much faster than they. In his efforts to escape, though, he fell into a river and drowned.
We were attacked by a kobold army, but my soldiers cleaned that up even faster than my hunters pick off pangolins. Why do kobolds bother?
A particularly strange dwarf arrived at the fort one day. She was very skilled in a huge variety of different crafts, and she came with a long history of having lived in many, many different places. I started reading about the god she worshipped and it turned out he'd cursed her with vampirism a century or so ago.
Most people, in this situation, would have the vampire killed. But I built her an elaborately decorated tomb cut off from the rest of the fortress. There she has access to all the fort's levers, so she (with my directions) can lower the entrance drawbridge, release fresh water into the cistern, and cut off access from the monster-ridden caverns below the fort. Furthermore, above her living quarters is a royal chamber-with a trapdoor. Should any uppity noble make un-fulfillable demands, they shall have a visit with their reclusive compatriot.
The best thing about her is that she is immortal. She need not eat or drink (even blood), she never sleeps, and this suits her fine. Should ever the fort finally topple, she will still be there, buried under the mountain, waiting to let the next band of migrants in.
I've been playing a fortress called Hoofdye. When my dwarves arrived, they found a valley where the heads of two rivers meet and flow in opposite directions. I had my miners immediately secure the area by cutting off the surrounding hills to make cliff walls, and then I had them carve out a moat feeding off from the rivers. This left enough land in the middle for my donkey (who is blessed with repeated immaculate conceptions!) and a few other livestock. I also set up a dog field and began breeding for large, muscular dogs to augment the military. And I sent my dwarves digging an orderly underground complex.
Unfortunately, my dwarf population shot up rapidly and they nearly all starved. I ended up having to slaughter almost all the animals. Even though Hoofdye is on a main road, there are no elven traders, and human traders only show up every other year or so. It was a whole year before dwarven traders-the only traders that year-arrived. Before they showed up, though, one of my soldiers went berserk with hunger and beat up the expedition leader. He was taken to the hospital, but my doctor was completely inexperienced-he had never so much as cleaned a wound in his life (not that we had any soap anyway...). He patched Logem up as well as he could just as the dwarven caravan arrived, but Logem died in the middle of his meeting with the outpost liaison. The liaison left furious-which stymied our trade agreements. It was six years before the liaison came back.
About this time, the first crops ripened and the fortress was saved-just barely. The dogs starting being productive about this time, too, so many puppy roasts were had. We made puppy bone arrows for the hunters, puppy tallow soap for the hospital, and puppy leather bucklers for the military.
Unfortunately, the next few years were touch and go. Goblin thieves kidnapped 7 children and murdered an 8th. Goblin ambushers slaughtered every caravan that came through-we had to wall ourselves up inside Hoofdye, which stuttered productivity-and we were haunted by the ghosts of the casualties outside.
Through the constant goblin sieges, we managed to sneak a rag tag human caravan in. We traded (oh, thank god), but the siege worsened in meantime, and we could not lower the drawbridge lest the goblins overrun us. The humans wandered about the grounds until they went berserk. Fortunately, the goblins on the other side of the moat kindly picked the humans off with their arrows before they killed any dwarves. Our wealth increased that day; we smuggled in all the trade goods thrown about by the crazed humans, and we regained everything we sold to them.
Eventually the fortress was attacked by a were-antelope. The were-antelope killed a dog then transformed into a human. My soldiers tried to kill him, but he was much faster than they. In his efforts to escape, though, he fell into a river and drowned.
We were attacked by a kobold army, but my soldiers cleaned that up even faster than my hunters pick off pangolins. Why do kobolds bother?
A particularly strange dwarf arrived at the fort one day. She was very skilled in a huge variety of different crafts, and she came with a long history of having lived in many, many different places. I started reading about the god she worshipped and it turned out he'd cursed her with vampirism a century or so ago.
Most people, in this situation, would have the vampire killed. But I built her an elaborately decorated tomb cut off from the rest of the fortress. There she has access to all the fort's levers, so she (with my directions) can lower the entrance drawbridge, release fresh water into the cistern, and cut off access from the monster-ridden caverns below the fort. Furthermore, above her living quarters is a royal chamber-with a trapdoor. Should any uppity noble make un-fulfillable demands, they shall have a visit with their reclusive compatriot.
The best thing about her is that she is immortal. She need not eat or drink (even blood), she never sleeps, and this suits her fine. Should ever the fort finally topple, she will still be there, buried under the mountain, waiting to let the next band of migrants in.