So, if you’ve played Dwarf Fortress, chances are that you’ve either heard the stories, or been in them. These incredibly “Epic” tales of struggling for your life against increasingly mounting odds. What follows is the tale of my latest fortress, and how I met my end with self sacrifice. Some of the trap ideas implemented were inspired by such incredible tales like Boatmurdered, and other SA group games. I encourage you to check those out aswell!
This is how the story goes…
I had a thriving metropolis…well, as much that Dwarves can have…
Everything was going well. Royalty emigrated to me, my broker had the fortress tightened down, I had a tentative relation with the elves, and I held off a goblin siege like it was nothing. My walls were impenetrable, some up to 3 layers thick. This was no helms deep, because I had no stupid ass gate. I had underground rivers powering my entire fort, because waterpower is the way forward. I’d recently found a lava stream, which I was using to fortify my defenses, and bolster my already powerful army with weapons of steel and fire.
So, we expanded, deeper and deeper, finding more and more valuables in the deep, yet the further we dug, the greedier we became. Monsters in the deep were still finding their way into the heart of the fortress, yet my militia managed to hold them off time and again. My heavy force of wrestlers, crossbowmen and wardogs did the jobs they were born to do, but I knew the encroaching threat from the depths as ever present, and ever watching.
So, using dwarven ingenuity (and a lot of booze), I somehow managed to forge the trap to end all traps. It was a lever based system which would flood my entire fortress with lava at the push of a well fortified button. If it was to be our end, we’d go out of this world like we came in. Screaming, and covered in flames.
The further we dug down, the more dangerous things would get. Dwarves would go missing, falling into lava, being taken by enemies, but we still pressed on, until, thank the crafter, we found a vein of adamantium. Yet as many legends tell, with the discovery of adamantium, comes the fall of many a great nation. As we proceeded to strip mine the adamantium, a piercing screech came from thedepths, as what can only be described as an ARMY of demons RAINED in upon our fortress. Our initial defenses held them for a short time. Traps spring loaded with spears, knives, axes and the like, and our master militia held off the initial attack, but they were limitless, and we were but few. Immigration had been sparce, the last few seasons. Our people were getting old, weak, but remained
strong in spirit.
Seeing that the demons had overrun us, I had the mayor run up as fast as he could to the trap known as “Armoks Rage”. Barely making it into the room, he was attacked and lost his left leg, his arm, and his eye, but he valiantly pushed the switch. Floodgates crashed down, and lava began to stream in. It was a massacre. The dwarves knew this day had to come eventually, and remained steadfast as they came to their demise. It took but a few moments for the fortress to be flooded, but the deed was done. The fortress was safe. One dwarf remained however, the Mayor- Galwin Gouthammer. As he lay on the floor, unable to move, bleeding to death, he knew that he did what he had to do, and he died soon thereafter.
Let no man say I am a merciless leader…