Flickeredchannels

In the beginning...

Alright, I'm going to document the development of a fortress from its beginning to its untimely end and try to upload as many pictures as I can along the way, explaining my decisions and my expectations, and how they go horribly wrong.

The version I'm using is v0.31.19.

Let's start with an entirely new world:


First off, world generation. I personally like the history to be very short, because I like the idea that once your fortress crumbles and the game advances by a year, you create the world's history. I don't think I've ever made it longer than 26 years.

I also like there to be a ton of unique sites, horrible monsters and natural savagery. The game states that it makes embark a bit harder, but what it's really saying is it increases the amount of Fun.

So, let's see what kind of world it creates...

Behold! Nitom Num, "The Planets Of Wind"!


Nice!

Historical figures: 1124
Dead: 223
Events: 2201

Strike Tha Motherlovin' Earth!

Alright, this looks like a good spot:

Yes, the Jungle of Influences, right next to the brook known as Dregestigma the Undignified Length. A ton of different minerals and heavy forests. The warm weather will keep my dwarves from dying of thirst and the neutral wilderness will prevent hunting injuries.

I usually like to take places that have Untamed Wilds, but this will do.

Now, as experienced as I am with the game, I still always take the Play Now! option just for the sake of convenience. The default load-out usually has everything I need to get started right away, and if not it's not a big deal to change the labors needed.

And so starts a new chapter in dwarven history with the founding of the outpost Nelascatten, "Flickeredchannels". Strike the earth!

Blowbridges The Impregnable

Early in its life, Blowbridges was the target of goblin raiders. They attacked in large numbers and in waves, so to make sure my dwarves would get to see another winter, I had to build with defense in mind.

Part 1: Bridges And Towers

My base idea for defensive design involves simply building a moat with a rising bridge. It's an effective way to keep the attackers out, if you manage to raise the bridge in time, but it does have a few drawbacks. Namely, while your attackers are stuck outside, you're stuck inside. What's worse, any dwarves that didn't hear the alarm in time and got stuck on the wrong side are likely to get hunted down and killed.

Still, as an early defense system, you could do worse.

For Blowbridges, I decided to expand on the idea: I built a tower that had two moat-level bridges on either side of it, and then another tower across from it with a bridge that connected the two at the very top level. That way, when goblins attacked, I would sound the alarm and then all the dwarves would come running through the moat-level bridge. When the goblins got too close, I would raise them, forcing everyone that didn't make it to detour back to the second tower.

For the late dwarves, this was a life-saver. It allowed them a second chance to survive, and the detour the goblins had to take would allow me to get my military in place. When the goblins came climbing up the tower, at the top they would find my soldiers waiting for them, and in the cramped space would almost always be defeated. If things looked too grim, I could always retract the bridge on which they fought, ensuring that no one got through. I might lose a few dwarves in the process, but that's hardly a new problem.

This strategy led to the fewest losses I've ever had from goblin ambushes.

Part 2: The Great Wall Of Blowbridges

As great as it was to have a good defense plan to fall back on, the ambushes were still a problem as they grew in frequency and violence. Dwarves working on faraway projects might get cut-off when the alarm was sounded, or others might get interrupted by wandering Cyclops and other beasts. It was clear a solution was needed.

Thus began the construction of the Great Wall of Blowbridges. The land surrounding the two towers and the masoleum was slowly surrounded by a two-level tall wall of chalk and granite, taking up all my spare stone, forcing me to start strip-mining to get enough resources. It was massively long, and in many places the goblins were able to climb through where the land hadn't been properly flattened.

Despite a couple of ambushes, I was able to get it completed in time. A moat was dug, a bridge built, and two guard towers with barracks erected. Horses were placed at the entrance to ensure no creature could sneak past without alerting everyone.

It was about this time I discovered the strangest thing:

A bloody cape.

The bloodiest cape. Was this a rag that was used for cleaning? Or maybe it was an omen of things to come?

Part 3: A Sword In Between

With the wall erected, the dwarves couldn't really expand outwards anymore. The hunters still journeyed forth, but we no longer suffered from surprise attacks. The goblin invasions were done.

So they dug down.

The deep caverns contained many strange and wonderful beasts, some less friendly than others, but nothing was as strange as the mysterious temple we discovered.

Naturally, I sent the military in before the civilians. It turned out to be full of zombies! Zombie Snailmen, zombie Tigermen, but nothing my military couldn't handle. In fact, some of my military even developed fighting tactics based on how the zombies fought!

Eventually, reaching the bottom floor, we found the strangest thing: an adamantium shortsword sticking out of the ground beside a blowing portion of the floor.

Naturally, we pulled it out.

And that was Blowbridges.

The glowing spot on the floor stopped glowing immediately and a portal opened up. Demons poured forth by the hundreds. The Mayor was the first to go as he was the one to pull the sword, and the rest of my military fell inside that dread temple, fighting off the unending hordes.

There were several contingency plans in place to prevent the demons from reaching the main fortress, but all of them were in vain. Doors were smashed, open spaces were flown over, traps were ignored... the demons hunted down the dwarves down to the last.

And so sits the Blowbridges, a massive, nigh-impregnable fortress, destroyed from within, home now only to ghosts and something far more sinister...

Return to Wildnesspaged

The tales of Wildnesspaged and the treasures it supposedly holds has, on more than one occasion, encouraged a group of foolhardy dwarves to attempt a journey to retake it.

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From the journal of Id Nishdeg, expedition leader of the first dwarves to attempt to reclaim Wildnesspaged:

"1st of Granite: We have arrived at the fabled Wildnesspaged and can confirm that the maps are right. There is a scar on this land, and the tower of Wildnesspaged stands in the middle of it, like a dagger still in the wound.

It seems we are not the first visitors the fortress has seen since it became silent; animals and creatures of every kind have ravaged it, strewing about the furniture and treasures that were once inside. Broken barrels and cabinets are now nests for all manner of creature while nature slowly reclaims its stake. The trees have managed to grow again, but there remains something very sinister in the air.

My fellows are wary and uncomfortable. Something about the silence seems off. We spotted some goblins not too far away from the fortress, but they dared not approach. Do they know to fear our dwarven might, or does something lurk inside that scares them more than we do? Tomorrow we find out. Tomorrow we go in."

No further journal entries were found.

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From the journal of Sarvesh Eshtannitig, expedition leader of the second group to attempt to retake the fortress:

"1st of Granite: It has been a year since Id's expedition left the mountainhomes and we have decided to follow his trail more cautiously. We arrived at the location of the fortress to a very eerie sight: the Tower of Wildnesspaged, silent and foreboding, and Id's expedition's wagon, abandoned and overgrown. The supplies inside were still good, the barrels still sealed tightly, the seed bags unpierced. My guess was that they ventured forth into the fortress and were taken by whatever vile force has taken residence in it.

I have ordered the construction of a temporary outpost just north of the Tower. We will fortify it and hone our combat skills before venturing inwards. Most of what has been strewn about is re-usable, needing only minor reparations. Dwarven craftsdwarfship is, after all, the best in all the land."

"6th Hematite: Our temporary outpost is nearly finished and our stocks are enough to carry us through several winters. We have not yet seen any caravans, but we were able to salvage enough goods that trade should be bountiful. I think we will opt to trade for weapons and armor.

Not everything is well, however: we have lost Amost Ulingendok. He was our dedicated fisherdwarf, but as the frozen seasons here last longer than usual, the rivers were solid ice and un-fishable. As such, he took up hunting thanks to the many bolts we were able to scavenge.

He was unable to find any of the fabled unicorns we heard talk of, but he did encounter a small tribe of shy goblins. They did not attack, so neither did he, but they were careful to avoid us. Something has these monstrosities scared, but at first we thought nothing of it.

Amost must have discovered what it was, though, since one evening, he failed to return from his hunt. We set out to search for him and came upon his corpse, a most unsettling sight: there was not a mark on him, no wound or bruise. Only an expression frozen on his face, that of pure terror, so much so that his spirit could not bear to remain.

This place is evil. We will begin training immediately."

"17th Malachite: Our outpost is complete, just in time to welcome a group that followed us out. There weren't many back in the mountainhomes that were brave enough to come with us, but I no longer blame them. These six new should give us the edge we need when we venture inside.

The plan is thus: we lock our outpost to avoid outside invasion and dig a tunnel to enter Wildnesspaged from underground. Whatever it was that took Id's expedition will likely be expecting us at the front gate.

As a further testament to the reliability of the dwarves of Wildnesspaged, the traps at the front gates of the Tower are still functional; there are two cages which have trapped both a giant toad and one of the fabled unicorns. These will make fine trophies for our humble (and temporary) dining hall."

"9th Limestone: Our military is ten strong. It is time we breached Wildnesspaged.

Unlike our stargazing-mooncalf predecessers, we will not waltz in through the front gate. If these old maps of Wildnesspaged are accurate, we should be able to build a tunnel that leads directly into the forges. From there, we will barricade the exits and take an initial survey of the area. This is how we will take it: piece-by-piece.

The digging has already begun. We should breach the walls by the end of the month."

No further journal entries were found.

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With the loss of this second, better-prepared expedition, the legends of Wildnesspaged took a darker turn in their telling. There were now rumours of ghasts and other demons. The most convincing tale -- the one that became most widely-believed -- was that the original dwarves of Wildnesspaged had awakened one of the Old Titans who destroyed them, and any other dwarves that came afterwards. So convinced, in fact, were the leaders in the mountainhomes that the next party to be sent out to Wildnesspaged was sent out of punishment. A brutal band of killers, led by Tulon "the bloodthirsty" Uzolshameb, was banished to Wildnesspaged where it was assumed they would perish. What follows are the found journal entries:

"1st Granite, 25: We've heard the legends, but we're not scared. There's nothing we've met that doesn't bleed, and we're good at making things bleed. Legends be damned; if they knew their history instead of listening to rumours they'd remember that it was originally thieves and killers that founded Wildnesspaged in the first place. All we're doing is taking it back.

12th Granite: We've ventured inside and can already confirm that Wildnesspaged is a haunted place. There were ghostly apparitions that walked these halls, particularly the old living quarters, but that didn't stop us from choosing beds we thought were comfortable.

We went down as far as the stairs in this place will lead and we discovered an unfinished living quarter and dining hall, but with a working well. While we were contemplating this, a cave crocodile came charging out of the lower caverns. Took Mebzuth totally by surprise, poor bastard. Got his entire lower body just ripped right off. Still, gave the rest of us enough time to grab our weapons and take it on, and now it's a pile of blood and bone. Looks like it might be good for cooking, too.

Ast lost his nose in that fight, so now we're going to see if the hospital still works.

All in all, not a bad start. Cursed my hairy dwarven arse!"

No further journal entries were found.

The Rise and Fall of Wildnesspaged

The fall of a fortress is inevitable. The rise is what makes it interesting.

Most of the time, when I create a fortress, I decide to make it challenging. Maybe I'll settle near a volcano, or maybe in the most hostile, haunted, terrifying marsh I can find. Or maybe I'll just piss off the elves from the get-go. With Wildnesspaged, however, I thought I would take a different approach. I would build a fortress that deserved to fall.

And, by Armok, did this fortress deserve to fall.

The first thing to do was find a location, so what better place than the happiest, most joyous and magical woods I could find? We struck the earth in an area that had clouds of giggling pixies, stumble-bumbling fluffy wamblers, and even mysterious, fabled unicorns. It was a beautiful enchanted land when we found it, but this was not to last.

The Elven Caravan:

About a year into settling the fort, we got our first elvish caravan. Now, normally, these guys are douchebags about our cutting down trees. This time, however, I can only imagine that they were so traumatized by what they saw when they arrived that they felt it was already too late. The best thing to do now was do their trading and get out.

So here's what happened:

They arrived on the frozen riverbanks of the southeastern river, only to find that it was lined with the rotting corpses of unicorns. The unicorns had crossbow bolts in them. The bolts were made of unicorn bones. That right there should have been enough to get them to turn back, but they pressed on.

As they emerged from the riverbank, they saw that the land had been clear-cut: trees had been replaced with endless fields of stone stockpiles. Chimneys emerged from the soil and spewed forth clouds of nauseating miasma. A single tower stood surrounded by a deep moat, its only access point a retracting drawbridge.

Horrified, the elves warily crossed the bridge under the watchful eyes of the several crossbow-wielding guards on the parapets. They had only just gotten across and into the trade depot when goblins suddenly attacked! The bridge was retracted and a fierce battle broke out.

Unfortunately for the elves, the retracting drawbridge offered no protection and the trade depot was in plain sight of the goblins. A fierce battle broke out, with arrows flying from all sides, and the goblins were eventually defeated.

One elf survived. The animals were dead, and so was the trader. We got to keep all the stuff and the one elf was left to return home, presumably to warn the others never to come here and avoid Wildnesspaged like the plague. Obviously, his word carried little weight as the elvish caravans came right back the next year.

I never heard them complain about the trees, though.

Forgotten Beasts, And How To Piss Them Off:

The design of the fortress called for the construction of a reservoir since the rivers froze every late autumn until about mid-spring. We started digging one in the lowest portion of the fortress, beneath the dining hall, with a floodgate that would allow it to be refilled whenever the rivers thawed.

About three levels down, two levels short of the intended depth, we broke through the ceiling of a giant underground cavern. It was a massive cavern, with lakes and forests of fungiwood. As incredible as it was, however, it posed a structural problem: the reservoir would be too shallow, and with summer coming to an end, we wouldn't have time to dig another one.

The solution came about accidentally. As we peered down into the abyss, a low growl echoing off the walls revealed the presence of an Unnamed Horror, a Thing-That-Should-Not-Be, a mythical and terrible Forgotten Beast. To keep the snake-like, scaled monstrosity from flying up through the reservoir, I ordered that the hole at the bottom of the reservoir be walled up and then covered.

By about mid-autumn, we had most of it walled, but there was no longer any time for a cover.

To hell with it: open the floodgates before the rivers freeze!

One of the most common fates my fortresses have suffered is death by flooding, and the construction of a reservoir made this a very real possibility. However, because of the walls at the bottom of the reservoir and the missing cover, I had created a drain. The water would rise up as high as the walls, then the overflow would drain into the caverns below.

Onto the heads of the Forgotten Beasts that took up residence there.

There were about five before they started becoming a problem.

Of Mice And Dwarves:

To me, the most amazing aspect of this game remains the dwarves and the tragic little lives they lead. What amazes me is how starkly different they are, reacting in very different ways to the same situation and having their personalities change over time.

Avuz was my most prevalent dwarf. She was a machinator, a pure politician, and by the time she passed she had probably occupied every noble position there was. As Chief Medical Dwarf, she slowly got used to the repeated tragedies and disasters, hardening her for the position of mayor. It was there that her misanthropy really shone through.

She would constantly request items to be constructed out of extremely rare materials that she knew we didn't have. When the items weren't produced, she would have the Captain of the Guard jailed for incompetence.

She was even part of the military for a while, emerging victorious from every battle.

Sibrek was a much quieter dwarf, but I had my eye on her. She was a marksdwarf, proficient with a crossbow to the point where her skill was ledengary. She never complained about anything, never made a fuss, and her only friend was a small dwarven child. Other than that friendship, however, she didn't really care about anything else anymore.

She was always in the thick of battle and somehow managed to avoid all injuries. She could headshot a goblin before it even saw her and reload before the others reached her. She eventually earned the nickname: "The Silken Sloth", which is a terrible nickname.

Her military career continued successfully until the fall of the fortress, and then she was among the last to fall.

One of the most memorable dwarves, however, is one whose name I ironically can't recall. It was more than one dwarf, however, it was a whole family of dwarves.

It started when I was checking out the various family trees around the fortress. There were two siblings whose father I was familiar with, him having the then-Captain of the Guard, but the mother I was less sure about. Her name was Datan, a weaponsmith I believe, but for some reason I couldn't find her anywhere.

After a while, I discovered why. While designing the masoleum, I came across one of the names on the coffins: Datan.

Meanwhile, the Captain of the Guard was having a training session in the arena against captured goblin invaders. A whole squad of dwarves were pitting themselves against a single goblin who managed to outmaneuver them all. It stabbed the Captain through both hands and then broke out of the arena... into the training area for the rest of the military. It was quickly cut down.

The Captain then went up to the hospital where Avuz, of all dwarves, patched him up and sent him on his way. He went back down to the training area and continued the training session until another goblin ambush forced them all to rush to their posts.

The Captain led the charge and, though the goblin assault was repelled, he fell in combat and was placed in a coffin next to his wife's. His two children were orphaned, but in his sacrifice he managed to keep the other families safe for a little while longer.

Blood, Stone and Ash:

The Forgotten Beasts were something I was going to have to deal with sooner or later.

A plan was hatched: we would create a killing floor that was two storeys tall, with the upper level offering sniper positions for my archers. We would lure the Forgotten Beasts into this area and then turn them into pincushions.

Shockingly, the plan worked. For about a minute.

What I underestimated was their speed. The key component in this plan was that I would have to chain up some animals or goblins to lure out the Beasts, in which time I would be vulnerable to attack. I figured I would have enough time to see them coming and shut the gates before they made it through, but it turns out I was wrong. All the Beasts rushed through the killing floor, getting hit by numerous arrows on their way, but inexorably making it through and reaching the surface.

Forgotten Beasts are peculiar in that each one is unique and occasionally defy common sense. For example, there was one of these monsters that was a blob of fire. Not a blob of magma or coal. Fire. When it emerged, it set the remaining lush greenery of the land on fire, and it left a blazing trail as it beelined for my fortress.

The entire land went up in flames. The fire spread outwards, sweeping the massive shelves that made up the surrounding wilderness. Unicorns were roasted. Pixies incinerated. It snowed ash.

We retracted the bridge as the Beasts hunted down and killed those who were unfortunately too slow to make it in time, and from a "safe" vantage point we fired down at them.

One of the recruits was a brave dwarf by the name of Olom. When the alarm was called, she didn't bother to run back into the fortress. Instead, she ran up a nearby hill that gave her line-of-sight to the front of the fortress and sniped at the Beasts from a safe distance. She somehow managed to mortally wound the fire-blob and it exploded, searing most of the flesh and all of the fat from another of the Beasts. Enraged, it disengaged and went after her.

The two of them fought as the fire around them continued to burn and surrounded them utterly. It was, unfortunately, much too strong for her, despite its weakened state, and it was only once the flames had died down did the rest of my military hunt down the Beast and finally slay it. The other Beasts were taken down through sheer force of numbers.

The Forgotten Beasts had emerged from the fathomless depths of the world and were struck down by the hardened dwarves of Wildnesspaged. The land, once a joyous, magical place, was now a wasteland of blood, ash and stone.

The Silent Scar:

The battlements of Wildnesspaged are silent, now. Tattered remains of once-proud flags now flap listlessly in the breeze as trees find it difficult to grow anew. Stones still lay scattered among rusting armor and weapons, some still with lifeless, skeletal hands attached to them. No eyes watch from the walls any longer.

What happened to Wildnesspaged? There are only rumours.

The latest elven caravans believe that the land itself, so angry with the pain they had inflicted on it, gave birth to a creature so vast and mighty that not even those that had slew the Forgotten Beasts could stand up to it. The goblin nations boast that they were finally able to breach the ostensibly unassailable walls of the fortress and managed to slit the throat of every dwarf there, but who can really believe the boastings of a goblin? The humans only believe that the dwarves left, having nothing else to gain from the wasted land, having mined every last gem from the underground. Whatever the truth, each civilization agrees at least on one thing: they had it coming.

In the mountainhomes, however, a different story is told. That the dwarves, having slain all of the Forgotten Beasts, knew the undergound to be safe, and that if any others showed up again, that they would be able to destroy them. With this confidence, they dug deeper and deeper until they no longer had any use for contact with the surface world. They went on to build a magnificent underground city, mining gems undreamt of by those of lesser courage.

Regardless, the remains of the fortress still stand, host to wandering wildlife, territorial monsters, and the occasional adventuring party of foolhardy warriors.

A warning to some, perhaps.

Or maybe a testament.

SPINEMACHINE - Asshole Parties

The title says it all, I believe. It seems that these dwarves like to party... Let me rephrase that. It seems that these dwarves ONLY party...

So much so that they no longer worked. They kept drinking and drinking until we were out of Drink! Yet they continued.. all throughout Summer and into a good portion of Autumn. They finally stopped after a Dwarf died of thirst. Let us remember Udib Kiddirzasit the Metalsmith.


Apart from that, the year was pretty quiet. I removed all the slopes that I wanted from the Mountain to increase security. I also moved all the useless stones into dumps and stockpiles. Then I increased the Workshop area to fit each workshop with its own stockpile.

That's all.

SPINEMACHINE - A Rough Start

The first year has passed and already 3 rulers sat in the throne. A rough start, but at least, the last ruler has solved the starvation issues.

And so the fortress is now passed onto me. As I sat my ass on my throne, I immediately started looking at the fortress design. About an hour and half later, here I sit with a few plans of my own. Let's start off by looking at this magnificent little message our dear friend left us:

Moving on... The first task I have decided to take on is getting rid of all the useless "construction" stones lying around or placed in stockpiles. I can achieve this by making a garbage dump. With a dump, I can basically stack items on a single tile, reducing a lot of clutter. Of course, I will keep some of the construction stones available in case I need some emergency walls and shit. I'm not sure yet where I will place this awesome dump, but fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?

My next plan involves adding security. I have decided to remove all the slopes around the mountain which allowed any creature to be able to move upwards to the top of the mountain. As of right now, this is MY mountain. No creature should be able to reach the peak of the mountain. Doing this should ensure that nothing is able to attack from above.

And finally, I want to finish off with some reorganization. For some reason, most of the workshops are placed in a single room with no supplies nearby. This means that the dwarf working at the station must leave his post and go across the fortress to gather any object he may need. I think simply mining out a large room, adding some stockpiles, and then adding some separations will be the best thing to do.

Hopefully, I don't manage to do too much harm to the Fortress.

SPINEMACHINE - Initial findings

It is Mid-summer on the 1st of Malachite, 1051.

The reign of the previous ruler of Spinemachine (henceforth to be known simply as "The Machine", or "Ol' Spiney") has been cut short, due I presume to a painful bout of Ocular Herpes Simplex. Though this is pure speculation, I think it reminds all of us that, like the sun, you shouldn't ever stare directly into a hobo's anus.

So the succession has been passed prematurely down to me, and with it an apparent food crisis. Am I ready to lead these dwarves into the black? To pull them back from the brink of starvation? I have only stepped into the fortress for a few minutes when the sight of anorexic dwarves makes me physically sick, all over myself. I make a promise to myself right then and there that I shall make it my personal quest to fatten these wretches up, and restore their beards to their once glorious sheen.

I begin looking around..

What must a desperate dwarf eat to survive in the Factional Forest? Perhaps the mythical Satinybursts the Tufts of Breakfast truly is made of liquid bacon and scrambled eggs .. Or perhaps we must dine on the abundance of half-finished furniture and crafts left strewn around the dining room:

Also of note are the creative mining plans left for the sub-basement of the fortress:


I can only assume that this is part of the aforementioned water irrigation system, so I shall endeavor to preserve this work for future generations, as our forefathers intended.

But this will all have to wait for now. Food must be found, perhaps we might create a giant underground straw to the neighboring civilizations so as to Drink Their Milkshake.

To be continued..