|
nvining posted:Looking at the fortress now. Oh God. You remember that part of that Lovecraft story where there's some weird occurrences somewhere and you, as the reader, are wondering why in the hell a protagonist would keep investigating them instead of going to the bar to have a stiff drink? Turn off your computer. Give the turn to Munki. Really, it's better for you that way. I know you won't listen, they never do...
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 03:51
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 28, 2024 16:51 |
|
|
 Mommy said the other day that she can't carry me any more because I'm a big dorf now. I wish she would still carry me. Mommy said I can't touch the big lizard but I didn't want to because I was scared. I feel sick...
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 04:01
|
|
|
nvining posted:Looking at the fortress now. Oh God. I have no idea at the creatures in cages. I pretty much ignored them entirely, while thinking I really should train some wardogs periodically. There won't be shirts everywhere for long if I got my dump orders set right!
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 04:30
|
|
|
I know it won't happen, but somehow I want this to end up starting with Dwarf Fortress and ending with screenshots from Clockwork Empires that sort of loom like Bronzestabbed.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 08:55
|
|
|
Hey guys! Could you do me a favor? I spend a lot of time on the first page of this thread (for obvious reasons) and it never fully loads. I mean, it looks like it's loaded, but my browser just keeps spinning on that page, forever. I'm not internet savvy enough to figure out what is failing to load, though, and I'm worried it might be something in one of the first three posts. Can someone figure this out for me? TildeATH posted:Don't forget the beloved former Overseer you let ignominiously die due to your own incompetence and/or idiocy and/or incontinence and/or cruel vanity! Yeah, it's sad how LeJackal died, isn't it.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 17:30
|
|
|
nvining posted:Looking at the fortress now. Oh God. This. This is the sort of commentary that I love in an overseer. Especially since I'm never able to sneak a peak at the save, myself!
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 17:36
|
|
|
Leperflesh posted:Yeah, it's sad how LeJackal died, isn't it. Who?
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 17:50
|
|
|
I only post this message so that Bad Munki's Chrome extension would notify him and he'd think here's new content. It's cool to have a completely new overseer though. And that post was promising. 
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 17:59
|
|
|
Rurik posted:I only post this message so that Bad Munki's Chrome extension would notify him and he'd think here's new content. Is this thread even about Dwarf Fortress anymore, or are we just LPing Bad Munki?
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 18:00
|
|
|
Rurik posted:I only post this message so that Bad Munki's Chrome extension would notify him and he'd think here's new content. No no, that won't work. I auto-watch the overseer rolls website, not this thread, that'd be dumb. :P I constantly monitor this thread manually.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 18:02
|
|
|
TildeATH posted:Is this thread even about Dwarf Fortress anymore, or are we just LPing Bad Munki? If we're LPing Bad Munki, I want to be... dorfed? Bad Munki posted:No no, that won't work. I auto-watch the overseer rolls website, not this thread, that'd be dumb. :P Alas, you have foiled my plan, Manual Monitor!
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 18:08
|
|
|
Rurik posted:If we're LPing Bad Munki, I want to be... dorfed? Alright, Munki's right index finger is now named Rurik. Hopefully he'll have a long and productive life and be involved in many exciting, emergent escapades.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 18:13
|
|
|
Why did my left thumb just run off and claim the workshop in my basement? WTF IS GOING ON also my fingers are multiplying at a prodigious rate but the new ones are entirely useless, make it stop
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 18:32
|
|
|
TildeATH posted:Alright, Munki's right index finger is now named Rurik. Hopefully he'll have a long and productive life and be involved in many exciting, emergent escapades. I requested a noble.  With at least 'proficient' in the sword skill.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 18:45
|
|
|
Rurik posted:I requested a noble. I'm right-handed and spent a couple years fencing, does that count? Jesus you people are picky.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 18:59
|
|
|
Bad Munki posted:I'm right-handed and spent a couple years fencing, does that count? Jesus you people are picky. Right-handed doesn't make you a noble, elsewise 98% of population would be. 
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 19:16
|
|
|
Oh, I thought that requirement was met by being the index finger: I just meant that that'd make you the index finger on my sword hand. v v
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 19:18
|
|
|
Dibs on the liver.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 19:20
|
|
|
Bad Munki posted:Oh, I thought that requirement was met by being the index finger: I just meant that that'd make you the index finger on my sword hand. v Conversely, this is also the butt-wiping hand.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 19:59
|
|
|
Yeah but I don't recommend holding a foil while doing it.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 20:02
|
|
|
Some people enjoy extreme sports.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 20:03
|
|
|
Leperflesh posted:Hey guys!
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 20:07
|
|
|
Ooh, could be Adblock. I'll investigate.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 20:08
|
|
|
Leperflesh posted:Ooh, could be Adblock. I'll investigate. I have firefox with adblock and the whole thing loads fine for me. Works fine in IE 9 too. The first 3 posts individually all load fine for me in both browsers as well.
|
|
#
?
Apr 9, 2013 20:11
|
|
|
 The Fifteenth Histories of Bronzestabbed a work of unknown provenance, but reputedly by the author of 'The Dwarf Problem: Is There A Solution?' and Other Light Works of Literature PROLOGUE A Review of Events Thus Far; the Architectural Features; Vomit In The Hallway; The Queen's Secret Mission; A Miner's Question Recall, dear readers, that the Fourteenth History of Bronzestabbed, which we have previously chronicled, ended with the death of a Forgotten Beast from beyond the depths of time itself. A brave militia captain slew it by hacking it in the guts, in the time-honored tradition, with a mighty battle axe made of adamantine. Victory was shortlived. Many dwarves died that day (largely of thirst, and in things unrelated to the Forgotten Beast), and some were driven mad. Driven mad by what, however? By the knowledge that Bronzestabbed was the last bastion of defence, the best bastion of defence, against the Rising Dark? By having seen things that no Dwarf should ever see? By strange visions of artefacts, dancing through the fevered Dwarven imagination? We do not know, and we shall never know. So where shall we begin our tale? Shall we consider the fevered Dwarven Imagination? Perhaps we should consider the dwarf Zergle, gently scheming away in a Craftsdwarf's Workshop, building... something?... out of bones and leather?  Shall we start the Fifteenth Histories of Bronzestabbed by discussing this rather ominous pile of cats, stuck in a stairwell, frantically mewling?  ... or this... whatever-it-is... and the terrible role it was to play in Life In The Fortress As We Know It? (Seriously, does anybody know what this is? Or what the terrible role it is to play in Life In The Fortress As We Know It?)  No. Let us ignore all of that, including the thing that we don't know what it is. Let us start our tale, the Fifteenth Histories of Bronzestabbed, by considering Vomit. ---- Vomit is properly considered to be one of the five Dwarven essences. Unlike blood, which is considered to not have been transformed yet into alcohol, vomit is viewed by Dwarven physicians as 'blood which has been transformed into alcohol, and has come too far out the other side.' Notable causes of vomit include certain Forgotten Beast syndromes, staring in the sunlight, and simply having a good time. Right now the dwarf known only as 'SilentDwarf' Tosidirid was busy expelling vomit in one of Bronzestabbed's main hallways. He was somewhat embarrassed, perhaps, to be hurling his guts out, but he would have been more embarrassed if he had known that Sankis, Queen of All Dwarves, Her Bearded Radiance and Leader of the Rare Ship was currently stepping in it.  Right now, however, SilentDwarf was only concerned with figuring out where in the world his equipment had gotten to.... and then, maybe, not vomiting and replenishing his body's internal supply of alcohol. Sankis, Queen of All Dwarves, Her Bearded Radiance and Leader of the Rare Ship was making her way to a Mason's Workshop stealthily - or as stealthily as one can carry an enormous slab of raw marble down a hallway surrounded by vomiting dwarves. It was here that the miner Ardeem approached her, stepping in more vomit as he did so. "In the Early Autumn of 247," he intoned solemnly and in the Highest Speech reserved only for matters of dealing with Royalty and/or Dwarven Importance, "the Miner 'Ardeem' Avuzsebir was pleased to encounter Her Majesty Sankis Uzolbesmar, Queen, in a hallway. Uh, filled with vomit. Umm. We should deal with this. The vomit is not pleasant." Sankis simply nodded. It was then that Ardeem noticed the large block of marble. "In the Early Autumn of 247," he continued quizzically, "the Miner 'Ardeem' Avuzsebir was wondering why Her Majesty Sankis Uzolbesmar, Queen, was carrying a large block of marble down the hallway." "Coffins," said the Queen. "Making coffins. Secret coffins."  Ardeem, being a Master Judge of Intent, decided that there was nothing particularly suspicious about this. If he was puzzled to not hear the rich, traditional tones of the Highest Speech, he did not reveal it. He had Thoughts upon his mind.  "Forgive me," he inquired, "but may I ask when we are to have a new Overseer? There is much to be Overseen around the Fortress of Bronzestabbed, and we await orders given in the Traditional Manner." Sankis looked around. "Trust nobody," she said softly. "No overseer this year. Nobody can be trusted." "No overseer?" spluttered Ardeem. "Then... how are we to run the Fortress?" Sankis smiled grimly. "All Dwarves," she said, "shall be Judged. And all shall be known by their Actions in this year." "And then what?" asked a somewhat nervous Ardeem, who was wondering just how good a Judge of Intent he really was. "And then," uttered the Queen, "we shall find out who this coffin is for." nvining fucked around with this message at 05:14 on Apr 10, 2013 |
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 04:17
|
|
|
Welp, I'm sold already. This is going to be a fantastic year.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 04:20
|
|
|
Leperflesh posted:Yeah, it's sad how LeJackal died, isn't it. The worst part was I didn't even notice he'd been hit until LeJackal asked me about it. Then my multiple backups came in handy, cause I could just load the save. I have no idea if Sankis's coffin crafting is a holdover from my turning everyone into masons, or what. And I don't care. This update suggests we'll have a GOOD Overseeing. Without an actual overseer. And I have no idea what Zergle wants. I'm sure I've cut gems, and got wood in the fortress. I don't remember him muttering about cloth. (spoilers - I only figured out it was q to check what he needed as I was doing post overseeing wrapup
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 04:28
|
|
|
I'm digging the narrative style. I'd plagiarize it if I get the chance to Oversee again, but I'm sticking with my original idea for now 
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 04:41
|
|
|
drat. This is going to be a good year. Too bad I am dead from improper hospital care.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 04:49
|
|
|
This is awesome!  I didn't know nobles could actually do work. I hope the coffin comes back.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 05:35
|
|
|
Holy poo poo, my Dorf. I don't think he's been seen or heard from since his migrant wave. I see he's spent his time digging holes and making them pretty.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 05:45
|
|
|
Good start. Good year. Except for the dead Toddlerseer--that part is bad.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 06:01
|
|
|
TildeATH posted:Good start. Good year. Except for the dead Toddlerseer--that part is bad. Not my fault. I could've even not mentioned it, but I feel dead dwarves need mentioning. Since the only person to be aware of it was Pickled Tink. Veloxyll fucked around with this message at 06:16 on Apr 10, 2013 |
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 06:06
|
|
|
The Final Thoughts of Pickled Tink I, Pickled Tink, son of PoptartsNinja and Spikey, younger brother of Dirt and servant of Ugath record these, my final thoughts upon the floors of this, my prison. Once, so long ago, I believed in the mission of Bronzestabbed. We had a duty to all dwarfkind to stand up and fight the evil of the world that threatened The Rare Ship. As a child, I have never been able to directly oppose the evil of the world through deed. I can no more lift a boulder than I can plough a field. I tried my best through the only avenue I had: My voice. It has resulted in my spending the last half of my life buried alive in this tomb of magma. I no longer believe in this dream. Bronzestabbed is as consumed with the evil it claims to fight as any other fortress in the Rare Ship. The imprisonment of TildeATH and myself is an act one can only describe as evil, and no one in the fortress seems to care. We have been sealed here for three and a half long years, and no rescue has come. Now my dearest friend, TildeATH lies dead at my feet. He gave his life for me to live but a month longer, handing me the last of the beer. Now I am alone. Now I am thirsty. I am dying. I have days left, but I will not give LeJackal the satisfaction of knowing he killed me. Goodbye world, Ugath grant me peace in the next.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 10:21
|
|
|
 The Fifteenth Histories of Bronzestabbed a work of unknown provenance, but it could be by the author of 'Could It Be The Book?', Which Could Be A Book CHAPTER ONE Memoirs of a Diagnostician; A Secretive Dwarf; A Trader Does His Best; Thieves And Cheesemakers; The Queen Completes a Ghastly Job; Something Nasty In The Dining Hall; A Child Is Born; A Grim Discovery  Thoradin Legonstukos, it should be noted, enjoyed his job. It was, after all, pleasant being a Diagnostician. You got to work in a hospital, diagnosing exciting Forgotten Beast syndromes and broken ankles, with a team of assistants and a curmudgeonly administrator always on your tail. Some days, however, a Diagnostician's work was grim. After you diagnosed the patient, after treatment, and after they died of Medicine, the Diagnostician's work was not always done. You had to fill out a bunch of complicated slabwork, you had to console a grieving family, and then you were faced with the task of tracking down all the deceased's body parts, confirming that they were completely dead, and placing them in a tomb. It was satisfying work, he mused, as he clutched Hoomani's right foot in his hand. Collecting body parts, putting them in a tomb, filling out paperwork. Yes, this was the good life. He could not help, however, but be distracted by the conversation he had just had with HUNDREDHOGS in the field. No overseer this year! What could it possibly mean, he thought to himself. No overseer? What could it possibly mean? How was a fortress to function without an overseer? He checked the foot to make sure that it was dead, idly mulling over the cryptic pronouncement the Queen had made, in lieu of a formal announcement. "All Dwarves," he muttered to himself, "shall be Judged by their Actions. What does it mean?" Elsewhere in the great Fortress of Bronzestabbed, other Dwarves were considering the pronouncement. If every dwarf were to act as they saw fit, it would be anarchy. And to be judged by their actions... what did the Queen have in mind? Was this a test? Were there traitors in their midst? Imagine, dear readers, the confusion. One person, in particular, considered the absence of an overseer to be a blessing in disguise. He was, after all, running out of places to hide the bodies.  Let us, dear readers, reflect on what it means to be a Dwarf with a vision. Suppose you are a Dwarf. Life is ordinary, but good. Some days you are disgusted by a miasma; other days, you enjoy dining in a wondrous dining hall and feasting like a king on finest Plump Helmet. Then, one day, perhaps you are out investigating a stockpile, and deciding just which item you wish to store in it, when suddenly... the Time is upon you. The idea may hit you in a triumphant wave. Rocks, you scream! I must have rocks, and ... and GEMS! Other times, the idea comes up on you quietly. Nobody must know. You retreat to the safety of a Craftsdwarf's Workshop. Even though you have never been in such a workshop before, even though you are but the humblest of Fish Dissectors, prone to dissecting fish because there is nothing else for you to do, the strange tools seem inviting and familiar. Visions dance in front of your eyes. Your ancestors call to you. Look, they say. Look how the rocks fit together. Look how the wood reveals its secret, inner shapes. Every dwarf shall be judged by their actions. Tell nobody, whisper your ancestors. You think they are your ancestors, or perhaps they are the spirits of the llamas whose beautiful wool your designs crave. Look, they whisper. Look how useful our internal organs can be in the construction of Dwarven Artifacts.  Then you start to sketch. You start to sketch, and you start to quietly search for things. All the time, as you sketch, a small gland deep inside the dwarven brainmeat begins to pulse. Soon, if unchecked, it will start to ooze its vital, alcoholic juices. This is the purest, darkest liquor of the five essences. When it is allowed to seep through the skull, the madness begins.  Sometimes, when you cannot find the things that you need, the sketching becomes... different.  Human merchants waste no time in trying to exploit a dwarf's weaknesses. "So," they say, "your friend's being moody. Sketching pictures of gems and shiny metal bars, innit? Well, we've got summa that." The trader attempts to buy these things, to see if they will snap his colleague out of their Strange Mood. All dwarves must serve those in the Strange Mood as best they can, so it is written, for you never know when the Time shall be upon you. You send off a -=**Finished Goods Bin**=- full of lead earrings, or leather earrings, or something, and you wait to see if your fellow dwarf leaves his workshop.  No such luck.  Perhaps the small piece of paper slipped underneath the door of the workshop covered in sketches of leather is a clue. Perhaps it is the small, plaintive runes next to the drawing that spell out 'please leather, leather pleasepleaseplease' in the speech of a long-dead dwarven clan. You show it to the Human Merchant, who suddenly regrets his choice of trade goods this season and desperately tries to interest you in something else.  "Leather?" says the human. "Nah, no leather. Got some lovely barrels of octopus bile, though. Bit of a lark, innit?" No, says the trader. You could not understand. Octopus bile is useless to us in our time of need, and it will simply sit in the storage pile for 'miscellaneous animal products and fluids' next to the feet of some long-dead Forgotten Beast. The human smiles and tries to understand. How could he? He is not a dwarf. And so, dear reader, it goes. The dwarf Zergle continues to sketch, and to wait, while the visions of his ancestors blur with the visions of llamas in his head and everything slowly fades to red.  Elsewhere in the Fortress, a grim deed had been accomplished. Queen Sankis, Her Bearded Radiance, had never needed a drink as much as she did today. It had been hard work, making coffins. But they were ready. Thirty rock coffins to hold thirty bodies.  Let the other dwarves wonder why she had descended to the lower Alcohol Stockpile for a quiet tipple. Everyone would know soon enough. All dwarves will be judged by their actions. Thirty coffins to hold thirty bodies.  It was Aston Ardestobul who first discovered the Kobold Thief Shodeegis. It was only by chance; he was out in the wilderness, grumbling about his tattered clothing and looking for items to store, when suddenly he noticed that he was not alone. The cry was raised, and the thief led the One-Way Outs on a merry chase.  Meanwhile, another shout was raised from the dining room. It was the custom, as in all Dwarven Society, for small children and miscellaneous animals to play in the dining room, where they could interact with each other free from the cares of adult society and with plentiful access to liquor. In the process of playing with children, a Stray Dog found itself suddenly overcome with such bountiful happiness and joy that it collapsed and died on the spot. None of the children bothered to report the death of the stray dog, for a child does as it pleases. Imagine, dear readers, that you are a Dwarven Child. A dog has died in front of you. Jets of purple miasma spout from its stinking corpse. It is the best dog in the world. No other dog can provide this sort of entertainment. You resolve to find more dead dogs, immediately, so that the party can go on forever. This is the essence of childhood. Warm summer days, cold winter nights, and a spurting dog corpse stinking up the dining room.  Nobody is sure why the dwarf Serelon chose this particular moment to give birth, either. Perhaps she felt that a dining hall full of rotting dogs and miasma was a good place to raise a child. Surely, dear readers, every mother dreams of a rotting dog carcass in a dining hall. It is almost as good as socialism. Nobody is sure why Serelon chose to name her child ToriasKane either, although she insisted it was after a long-forgotten great-aunt.  In the midst of all this confusion, somebody decided to check to see if any of the children had suddenly exploded in a shower of bountiful happiness and joy. After all, it had already happened to one Stray Dog this week. It was then that everyone realized that nobody had seen the child Pickled Tink for a week.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 10:27
|
|
|
Bountiful happiness and joy is my new favourite explosion.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 13:52
|
|
|
...or perhaps, when they think about it, its been quite longer than a week..
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 14:05
|
|
|
Hmm. He has been missing for a whole week. Clearly you should start a search party.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 15:02
|
|
|
Is Pickled Tink's surname really "Bronzestabbed"?
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 16:23
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 28, 2024 16:51 |
|
|
scamtank posted:Is Pickled Tink's surname really "Bronzestabbed"? Holy Armok, it actually is, isn't it? Loaded up my save game, and yep, sure enough, it's 'Bronzestabbed'.
|
|
#
?
Apr 10, 2013 17:00
|
|