This is a blog dedicated solely to exploits of dwarfs from the Bay12 game, Dwarf Fortress.
Each entry into the blog will cover one year of game time. This tale begins at the end and ends…. At the beginning. Or at least the beginning of the end…… or should that be the end of the beginning. Oh dear…
The Letter
Year 1589
Dear Pappy, herewith enclosed in the parcel be journals, ancient in years and lore. They are the first and last telling of the settlers of Oslankodor Winddawn.
Since you are always ready to devour new and interesting histories I thought it only appropriate that you have the first read. Perhaps it would make a good paper? Enjoy them uncle.
Your nephew,
Lednik.
Grozguk shifted his spectacles and glanced behind where the parcel lay. The stuff of Winddawn was the stuff of legends and Grizguj would be a fool not to take this opportunity. A brief moment of envy passed over him.
How I long to do what my nephew does. Let him write a paper for once! Let me see the sights, the long dark passages, the magnificent halls and constructs! Alas… I am a man of ink and paper, thoughts and conclusions.
Stroking his beard the dwarf slowly rises from his chair and shuffles towards the door. The parcel does not agree with the dwarfs arms.
My my my, the weight of words reveals my old age.
The dwarfs of old, dorfs as they were called back then, were notorious; not only for their lengthily life span but their staggering raw strength. It is said that even as children the dorfs were capable of pressing over five tons of solid stone.
Madness. The very idea of a child lifting anything heavier than 20 stone is preposterous.
The wizened dwarf made his way down the narrow passage of his home and entered his study. Clearing the desk he set the box atop, laid the lid to one side and retrieved the contents from the box.
Four journals!
In Grozguk’s mind these weathered journals held the key to the secrets of old; his past.
Grozguk looked up at Dimplecup, his tortoise-shell cat. “No time to waste then, is there Dimple?” The cat looked down at the journals, then back at its master before nodding off.
The professor gently opened the first journal. The pages were in near perfect nick. The writing, while containing sparse oddities in the syntax by comparison to contemporary dwarf tongue; was still relatively simple to decipher. At least to a dwarf like Grozguk.
The inside of the cover contained a familiar, if not a tad outdated map of Lina Ewe – The Land of Enchantments. Dwarves were not sea-faring creatures so their knowledge of oceans and lands beyond Lina Ewe’s borders was limited, and others would say non-existent.
The first page of the journal had a date stamp and an entry.
Journal Entry 1
The year: 93
Season: spring
Equipment and supplies
X2 copper picks
X1 steel battle axe
X100 dwarven ale
X100 dwarven beer
X50 dwarven wine
X50 plump helmet spawn
X20 pig tail seeds
X80 plump helmets
X80 turtle meat
X20 sweet pod seeds
X20 rock nut seeds
X20 cave wheat seeds
X50 tower cap spawn
X20 dimple cup spawn
X100 tower cap logs
X1 lead cage
X5 tower cap barrels
Colonists
Thob Edtulathel – brewer, cook, explorer and expedition leader (me)
Domas Cogamas – miner
Morul Odgubmosus – miner
Ravod Stizashtun – woodwork and woodcutter
Mestthos Alaknish – wood, bone and stone crafter
Kivish Katakimush – farmer
Kivish Ensebingiz – mechanic and architect
So far…
We have arrived in a strange land – very foreign to us and our initial surrounding. The animals seem more savage than usual – in the distance Mestthos spotted a pack of wolves. Usually this would be no cause for concern but, apparently these wolves are larger than normal – almost pony-sized. The prospect of fighting them just yet without the aid of trained soldiers and weapons is daunting and would risk needless lives.
We shall make our way into the earth and get some sort of production of goods going as soon as possible. As are the old ways, colonists must rely on each other and their initial supplies to prepare for further immigrations. Not only that but if we are to acquire any more goods it will be in the form of trade. In Armoks world there are no hand-outs.
I feel our party was chosen well. By over-stocking on food and alcohol we eliminate the need for hunter-gatherers such as fisherman and hunters. These are savage lands and too often have I heard tales of hunters and fisherman being the first to perish.
Not only that but more and more reports surface of a new breed of menace – the orc. They are said to stand as tall as the humans, are bulkier than goblins and attack without thought of their own safety. These monstrous barbarians are yet another enemy to add to a very long list of creatures a dwarf must face in this forgotten continent.
It is clear that our first priority is shelter and safety. With that in mind I have ordered Domas and Morul to begin mining immediately. We have already discussed the basic layout of our initial holding and I trust their judgment on any complications that may arise. Kivish Erisbingiz will supervise none the less and make alterations as he sees fit. The mining began midday after we had all gathered and rested from our great trek. Tomorrow holds the promise of a new exciting day in this new land. I said a prayer to Armok though; a little help from the big guy is always appreciated.
