»9th August 2007

The rise and fall of Fort Lawwheeled

I've been playing Dwarf Fortress a lot recently due to me having a lot of free time and Dwarf Fortress being Totally Awesome. For the uninitiated, Dwarf Fortress is a pseudo-ASCII romp best described as a cross between your average dungeon-hack/rogue-like and Dungeon Keeper. Dungeon Keeper is one of my all-time favourite games and I also like a bash on ZangbandTK now and again so me and Dwarf Fortress are like the Brangelina (sounds like a health cereal) of the obscure ASCII RPG world. I really can't go into too much detail now about the total awesomeness of Dwarf Fortress so I shall instead recount the epic and tragic tale of my second fortress, known amongst the dwarves as Lawwheeled. By the way, every single game of Dwarf Fortress becomes an epic and tragic tale, it's really that good.

Spring, in the year 1059, the fortress of Lawwheeled was little more than seven dwarves and a few corridors and rooms hewn into the face of the mountainside. Lessons had been learned in the nine years previous, the miners tunneled wide and deep into the mountain, and were already sowing plump helmet spawn in the muddy fields by the cave river by summer. Great stocks of food sustained the dwarves through the winter, plentiful dwarven ale brought merriment and an industrious spirit in the halls of Lawwheeled. Spring of the next year brought a flood of immigrants, Lawwheeled grew rapidly, the miners tunneled ever deeper into the mountain, finally reaching the magma channel where they could begin the construction of magma forges to refine the massive piles of ore which littered the corridors. The next few years saw steady growth, nobles soon arrived, bringing law, order and prosperity to Lawwheeled.


1062. Lawwheeled was a prosperous town with a bright future ahead.

The troubles began in 1062. Throughout spring and summer dwarves came in droves to the prosperous Lawwheeled, a dwarven baron and baroness consort brought royal guards and capitalism to Lawwheeled. The prosperity would be short-lived. The population of Lawwheeled had risen to over 120 dwarves, this put a terrible strain on the farmers and agriculture of the town. The fishermen soon exhausted the year's supply of fish from the rivers. In the early years of Lawwheeled, food had been plentiful, kitchens were never built such was the ready supply of fresh plump helmets, the dwarves had become wasteful. The year saw an increase in goblin raids, kobold thieves skulked outside the fortress, looking to steal the riches within, goblin hunters stalked the children of Lawwheeled looking for new slaves. The brave soldiers of the town repelled these invaders, showing no mercy to the goblinkin. The human and dwarven caravans who arrived at the town in late summer and autumn brought great supplies of food and drink for the hungry dwarves, the fine work of the craftsdwarves had made Lawwheeled a rich and prosperous town, but had obscured the growing problems in the fields on the artificial flood plain by the cave river.


Construction of the Great Meeting Hall, the centre-piece of Lawwheeled.

The winter of 1062 and 1063 was a harsh one. Over the course of the winter, the dwarves busied themselves carving out a great circular meeting hall and extending the flood-plains by the river to create a great undergound forest of tower-caps and quarry bushes. In the new year, famine stalked the halls of Lawwheeled. The farmers were the first to feel the loss brought on by famine. The starving dwarves carried many of the bodies of their fallen brothers and sisters to the graveyard, all were affected by the loss, great waves of depression swept Lawwheeled. Bomrek the Farmer was consumed by a great after the loss of his dear wife Ducim, and cast himself into the cave river and was never seen again. By spring, 1063, twenty three dwarves had starved to death, the survivors, starving and miserable, abandoned their work and searched in vain for vermin to eat. Crucially, work on the kitchens, which had been ignored before when food supplies were plenty, had halted. The seeds and raw fish languished in the food stockpiles as dwarves starved. With so little work being done, corpses of fallen dwarves were left rotting in the corridors and rooms. The stench of decay only made the dwarves more miserable and upset. The farmers who remained worked slowly in the fields now that the soils had thawed. The infrastructure of Lawwheeled had collapsed, ripe plump helmets were left in fields, rotting corpses were being eaten by the stray dogs in the fortress. Throughout spring, yet more dwarves succumbed to starvation, all the while, an evil menace marched towards Lawwheeled.


The great magma forges and ore stockpiles of Lawwheeled.

There were few immigrants to Lawwheeled in the spring of 1063, word had spread of the terrible food shortages. The immigrants who did arrive were followed by a horde of goblins. The first goblin attack was repelled, the single squad of goblins were no match for the keen obsidian blades the dwarves wielded. Throughout the winter the hunters of the fortress, who aimed their crossbows at invaders instead of the animals of th swamps, had been training in the barracks. Their keen eyes struck down goblins from afar. The first victory brought little celebration, still yet more dwarves starved, including some of the guard. The mandates of the nobles of the fortress still went ignored, the produce of the fields was still left to rot where it stood. A second goblin force soon followed whilst the soldiers rested in the barracks and tended to their wounds, fortunately the goblins threw themselves under the traps at the gates of the fortress and were crushed under the falling rocks of Lawwheeled.

The goblin attackers in spring were little more than a scouting force. In the early summer of 1063, a great goblin army besieged the castle. Led by an elite goblin with a retinue of archers, the goblins amassed outside the gates of Lawwheeled. This only compounded the misery of the poor souls of Lawwheeled, but in such a time of need, all of the able bodied in the fortress were mobilised to the military. The regular soldiers took up positions behind the stone-fall traps, which had not been reset since the last invasion due to the deaths and hunger of the town's mechanics. Hoping to funnel the massive goblin force into the corridors, the crossbowdwarves prepared to fell as many goblins as they had bolts. There seemed to be little hope of victory against such odds. Slowly, the goblins began their advance. The leader of the regiment of swordsdwarves, Vucar, exhausted and mourning the deaths of his wife, his children and his friends, lost his nerve and signalled the charge.

Vucar's men were outnumbered six to one. Though their swords, made of the darkest obsidian, had the keenest blades ready to rend goblin flesh, they had little or no armour, Vucar himself wore only a bone helm. Bravely they emerged from what had been their home for four years, knowing that they were all that stood between Lawwheeled and the rapacious goblins. The obsidian swords fell to the muddy soil, having not tasted goblin flesh, the blades were hewn down by a rain of arrowfire from the goblins. Last to fall, Vucar was surrounded by goblins and torn asunder.

Likot looked on as his comrades were cut down by the green horde. He struck the first goblin who dared enter his beloved home square in the chest knocking it back and splattering blood across the smoothed rock floors. The second goblin found one of Reg's bolts protruding from its chest and would never feel Likot's bolt shatter its skull. The second goblin was followed by ten more, Likot and Reg couldn't fire fast enough and were engulfed. Reg was skewered by two goblin spearmen and slumped to the floor. As likot turned to run he was caught by a goblin arrow in the leg. Falling to the floor he scrambled away from the advancing goblin spears, trailing blood behind him. The final arrow pierced Likot's lung and he suffocated as the goblins trampled over his body.

The battle of Lawwheeled was over, what followed was a massacre. The dwarves of Lawwheeled charged upon the goblin spears with only their bare hands and whatever weapons they could pick from the bodies. The goblin advance was halted at the bridge over the river, Sheriff Olon and Miner Bomrek swung axes and picks frantically at the goblin spearmen. Olon fell and Bomrek turned to run over the river, deep into Fortress Lawwheeled. The goblins made chase but were crushed under the fall of rocks, from traps set there so many years earlier by the now dead mechanics. As Bomrek breathed a sigh of relief, a goblin arrow pierced his side. Rolling over in agony he could only watch as across the bridge, the remaining goblins put their spears to the animals, children and newborns of Lawwheeled, some of which still clung to their dead mothers.


The massacre of Fort Lawwheeled.

Their thirst for death sated and with the blood of dwarves and goblins running together and staining the river red, the remaining goblins turned to the vaults of Lawwheeled and carried away as many bags of coins and crafts as they could. Across the river, a surviving dwarf emerged from the darkness of the corridors leading to the magma forges to carry Bomrek to a bed to rest. Bomrek's wounds were so grievous he joked he would be better off in the graveyard.


The river ran red with blood.

As the blood soaked into the stone around them, the the few dwarves that were left abandoned all hope. Bomrek died a few days later of his wounds and was left rotting in his bed. The eight remaining dwarves, led by Mefol, a proficient carpenter, holed themselves up in the rooms between the cave river and the chasm. Bodies rotted in the blood-stained, a baby was left alone amongst the corpses and soon starved. Farming as with all the tasks of the fortress had been abandoned long ago, all there was to do was haul corpses to the graveyard and mourn for lost friends and family. Of the dwarves trained in martial professions, only Edem remained. A wrestler, skilled in vicious unarmed combat, Edem, once a proud and strong dwarf lay bed-ridden after horrific wounds to his legs and arms. So whilst Mefol's axe was more used to chopping wood, it was now Mefol who would defend the fortress.

Searching the corridors for lost loved ones, Mefol came upon the jail which was once used by the sheriff and captain of the guard. He peaked inside and found skeletons still tied to the spider silk ropes which had restrained the criminally minded. Only the mad miner Vabok remained, still imprisoned for the murder of a fellow dwarf and destruction of a workshop months earlier. A tragic figure, Vabok was once a legendary miner, but fell into a strange mood and became insane after failing to construct some great masterpiece known only to himself. He was utterly insane and also starving, unaware of his macabre surroundings.


The goblin advance was halted by the bridge over the river. The traps were originally meant to protect against the denizens of the river itself rising to attack.

By mid-summer the situation had improved little, but Mefol was convinced that with the coming of the dwarven caravans in autumn the fortress may be able to recover as there were still vast stockpiles of crafts to be traded for precious food. The other dwarves were merely unskilled peasants, but Mefol believed the fortress could once again prosper. Several of the survivors were widows of the ill-fated guard and spent all their time in mourning.

The light of Lawwheeled was finally snuffed out in late summer of 1063. The goblins returned again in force. Immediately Mefol led the other dwarves into the bowels of the fortress to the magma channel where they would make their last stand. Mefol knew that most of the stone-fall traps past the cave river were still intact, and that the goblins would have to march through an avalanche of cunningly hidden dwarven stone to get to them. Optimistic the dwarves held their ground before the pulsing magma.

As the goblins advanced through the blood-stained corridors, trampling over bones and rotting corpses, they came upon a dwarven baby. Ever vicious and merciless the lead goblin skewered the baby, sending out a piercing scream through the cold tunnels. Consumed by completed rage and terror, Mefol and the other dwarves charged forward, abandoning their strong position wanting only to tear apart the goblins that would kill an innocent in such a way. The goblins were prepared however, withering arrow fire cut down three dwarves as they charged. Another two fell onto goblin spears. Entering an almost trance-like state, Mefol hacked away at the goblins, slaying two, but he was no warrior and soon gave way under the hail of blows. Deep in the fortress, Edem lay in bed, unable to join the fight to defend his home. Outside his bedroom door he heard the padding footsteps of two goblins. Bursting through the rock door, the goblins spears pierced Edem's body and he slumped lifeless within the bloodied sheets.

The last dwarf, Etur, with blood haemorrhaging from her severed forearm ran toward the well in the great meeting hall. An arrow struck her in the back but she carried on, leaving a trail of blood behind her. Thinking only of her dead husband Onul, and her beloved daughter Kol, who had only been a few months old, she ran to the well to cast herself into the watery darkness so the goblins could have no final satisfaction. Staggering and falling before the well a pursuing goblin rushed up behind her and delivered the final blow to her back. Etur collapsed, slipping on her own blood and swooning into death's embrace. As the howls and cries of the goblins filled the halls of Lawwheeled, the hopes and dreams of its people strewn across the cold, stone floors. As Etur's body grew cold under the dome of the great hall, so did the story of Lawwheeled enter into the myth and legends of the land. Whilst elsewhere, another seven dwarves set out from their homes in the mountain cities to found the fortress known in the dwarvish as Ustrigoth or in the human tongue, Breachcrafted.


1063, mid-summer, Lawwheeled.

What is so awesome about Dwarf Fortress is that I didn't need to make that up. The game is so deep and involved, best shown in the way dwarves have thoughts and memories and in the involved and complex combat system. Really, all that shit actually happened. Dwarves have quite long memories, you can look at a dwarf's profile and see what they like, which could include particular minerals, crafts or animals, what they don't like, often hostile creatures, their friends and family within the fortress and their general mood. To demonstrate, I'll write up the thoughts of one of my Craftsdwarves in my current fortress.
'Kadol Ritholudib has been quite content lately. He slept without a proper room recently. He has been satisfied at work lately. He dined in a great dining room recently. He admired a fine Trap lately. He was caught in the rain recently. He has complained of thirst lately.
Kadol Ritholudib like Onyx, iron, Mangrove, crossbows, chains and cows. He absolutely detests fire snakes.
He needs alcohol to get through the working day. He does not mind being outdoors, at least for a time.'

As you can see, the thoughts span every aspect of your fortress and are very detailed. Amazingly, Dwarf Fortress's combat system is frighteningly realistic. Mainly in the way that injuries are very serious and 'critical hits' are usually as lethal as they would be in real life. I didn't have to make up the bit about the dwarf getting hit in the leg, crawling and then getting hit in the lung and suffocating, that actually happened. You can't just quaff a health potion on Dwarf Fortress, if your arm gets mauled by some dungeon beast, you won't be able to use it for weeks or even months and it will never be quite the same. Inexperienced and strong dwarves set to train in the barracks will be very likely to injure their comrades whilst sparring if you give them a deadly weapon like an obsidian short sword (currently the same quality as a steel one). Miners caught in cave-ins can be concussed and will suffer from bouts of falling unconscious which is very disruptive to their routines and to your fortress if they are crucial workers. Oh, and don't get me started on metalworking. To make a couple of steel bars you need one block of pig iron and one block of hematite (iron ore), one block of limestone and two blocks of coke. You can just dig hematite and limestone out of the mountain but coke needs refining from bituminous coal ore and similarly, pig iron needs to be made from two blocks of regular iron which is of course made by refining hematite which uses a block of coal. Still with me? For the metallurgists among you, this process is similar to the nineteenth century technique called puddling. Possibly the coolest/creepiest thing about Dwarf Fortress is how the blood stays. So often in games it mysteriously fades away to keep frame rates up, but in ASCII-land, this is no problem. Blood stains the walls and floors for several seasons unless it is cleaned off. Battles become bloodbaths, all the more saddening when it is your dwarves who are the ones being used to re-decorate.

In conclusion? Dwarf Fortress is totally awesome. Of course, you could have just got that from reading the first sentence.

If you're cool, you'll want to play Dwarf Fortress.
Dwarf Fortress original ASCII version from Bay 12 Games
Dwarf Fortress with additional graphics (like what you see in my screenshots)
Dwarf Fortress Wiki - essential if you want to do a little more than starve beside the rock face


Extar, over, out.

Empty chairs at empty tables, now my friends are dead and gone.