Dwarf Fortress SteamDF - Underground tree preview |
- SteamDF - Underground tree preview
- Digging too deep vol 4
- PSA: Don't display forgotten beast and were creature corpses in front of your fortress in an attempt to demoralize invaders.
- My dwarf engraved a masterpiece!!!
- This Human Civilization has a huge population of Animal People. (also I figured out how to use legends viewer)
- The Murderskulls obsidian tower with a lava moat. Drawing of a screenshot I posted here a while ago.
- HOWTO: If you've had issues with DF in TEXT mode over ssh using Putty, Kitty, cygwin, etc because of [Shift]+[Enter] not working... I found a fix.
- I present you the Endless BattlePit
- Looks like I'm in trouble
- BF - Putting it to good use
- FPS Thread: 100fps, 120 Dorfs, 10 year old fort
- Dwarven Poetry: The Auxilliaries
- Streaming an evil embark with humans, come watch, chat, and ask questions! I'll add the VOD to this post afterward.
- Roaring laughter from a jail cell
- The vampiric tales of Alath Joychannels
- Legend Viewer error
| SteamDF - Underground tree preview Posted: 18 Feb 2021 03:01 AM PST
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| Posted: 18 Feb 2021 04:22 AM PST | ||
| Posted: 18 Feb 2021 04:22 AM PST Because you'll just attract necromancers who will use them against you. [link] [comments] | ||
| My dwarf engraved a masterpiece!!! Posted: 18 Feb 2021 09:48 AM PST
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| Posted: 17 Feb 2021 06:19 PM PST
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| The Murderskulls obsidian tower with a lava moat. Drawing of a screenshot I posted here a while ago. Posted: 18 Feb 2021 07:19 AM PST
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| Posted: 18 Feb 2021 10:48 AM PST HowTo: using [Shift]+[Enter] over ssh using TEXT mode fix. FYI: I'm doing this with Ubuntu Server 20.04, and Dwarf Fortress 47.05 for Linux (January 28, 2021) So your mileage may vary depending on your version of your OS or game. So say you wanna load up Dwarf Fortress on your headless Linux server and play over ssh... Awesome! And your going to need some dependencies installed to run the game. I'm running Ubuntu Server 20.04 (your system my be slightly different.) But this should be similar for most Debian based Linux systems. now start the executable. (./df) (If you have issues with the game complaining about "libstdc++.so.6" in the /libs/ folder you can simply move that file outside the df_linux folder somewhere else, or delete it and the game will use the local version of the file on the server.) After this the game should run fine. But... Putty, Kitty, cygwin all will not allow you to use a combination of [Shift] + [Enter] which is needed in a few places in game. (It's NOT a game bug, its a bug within the terminal emulators. So do NOT make a bug report for this, its been done before by others, see sources below.) To fix this start a game of DF as you would normally (generate world, embark) then once you can see your dwarfs and wagon you can set keybindings in the game. The keybindings you need to change are.. Keybindings > General > Secondary Select Highlight the selection that says "By letter: Shift+Enter" press backspace to remove it, now Add binding will be highlighted. press Enter to open the add new binding box and pick your new key binding (I used the apostrophe key ' ) Keybindings > Militia > Main: Military, Alerts, Set/Retain Same as above you.. Highlight the selection that says "By letter: Shift+Enter" press backspace to remove it, now Add binding will be highlighted. press Enter to open the add new binding box and pick your new key binding (I used the apostrophe key ' ) It took me a while to figure this all out and I didn't want others to have to deal with the same issues. Bonus: I don't like playing in text mode with a typeface that is taller than it is wide, It makes designations for layouts looks odd since its bigger in one direction than the other visually, but not really. If you want your terminal emulator to use a square typeface instead of the tall rectangle I used the "Kav_Curses_16x16" aka "GA_Curses_16x16" it can be found here: https://www.reddit.com/r/dwarffortress/comments/13es21/dfterm2_custom_putty_font/ Simply download the typeface file from the mediafire link, open it and your computer will ask if you want to install it, or you can right click it and select install.(Windows) Then in Putty settings select Window > Appearance press the change font option and select "AG_Curses_16x16" I set mine to 13-point for the size.(It measures in multiples of 2, but you can type a number instead and it will be accepted) from there open a ssh session with your new glorious 16x16 typeface :D If I have made a mistake, or you have issues please feel free to add to the conversation. Sources: https://www.bay12games.com/dwarves/mantisbt/view.php?id=10526 https://www.bay12games.com/dwarves/mantisbt/view.php?id=3007 https://dwarffortresswiki.org/index.php/DF2014:Technical_tricks#Video_Card_Options http://dwarffortresswiki.org/index.php/Installation#32-bit_vs._64-bit_systems https://askubuntu.com/questions/386281/error-while-loading-shared-libraries-libglu-so-1 [link] [comments] | ||
| I present you the Endless BattlePit Posted: 18 Feb 2021 06:16 AM PST
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| Posted: 18 Feb 2021 10:14 AM PST
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| Posted: 18 Feb 2021 12:57 PM PST
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| FPS Thread: 100fps, 120 Dorfs, 10 year old fort Posted: 17 Feb 2021 01:15 PM PST As above, I am currently running a 10 year old fort (all 3 caverns exposed and used, magma sea pumped and used). The world is a Medium size 127x127(?) Generated out to 570 years. I left the cap at 150. Currently at 123 dwarves as citizens, maybe a few more total with visitors. I have all options on, including temperature, weather, sieges, etc. I am still getting a consistent 80-100 FPS. I have a few guesses at this one:
I have seemed to notice the greatest FPS gains when I strongly restrict the pathfinding mechanism, either by drawbridges, burrows, or doors. All of this above leads me to postulate that a large chunk of FPS death from larger forts is a memory bandwidth bottleneck from the wildly inefficient A* pathing being conducted for hundreds of entities. Thoughts? Suggestions? What are your framerates like? I'm not interested in hardware comparisons, but please share your tricks, especially if they aren't explicit on the Wiki! [link] [comments] | ||
| Dwarven Poetry: The Auxilliaries Posted: 17 Feb 2021 07:46 PM PST I'm breaking all of my rules. Like, mangled. I don't even have a dwarven poetic form I'm following. Anyway. FREESTYLE! ------- Sentries slain silently, goblins converge Taverngoers finally notice the scourge An old drunken farmer falls first to the surge Alarming the patrons to their oncoming purge Momuz the dwarven baron of Ralkegeth Not noble by birth, nor titled by wealth Raising his warhammer, showing his breadth Looks over the room shouting "glory and death!" A mason, a miner, a sellsword stand tall Of course Momuz's personal guard and all Prepare for the oncoming horde in a pall Knowing that they die to protect the great hall The first goblin swiftly turns to a splatter Warhammer spraying out gore and grey matter The guard's spear causes the second to stagger Enough time to meet the wild sellsword's dagger The mason and miner are skilled in their trade Chisel and pick, stone and flesh will dissuade They do what they can to assist the blockade By courage, not weapons, a warrior is made The oncoming horde gives the five no respite Stinking goblin guts turn tavern to cesspit While none of the five will ever suggest it Their situation grows ever more desperate The sellsword lies dead, the mason is wounded First fell to a mace, the second included Momuz and his guard fight just as reputed They make them all pay, all those who intruded Momuz fights on though exertion does mount His guard holds his spear, his kills he's lost count The miner jumps forth, blood spraying a fount A mad wounded dwarf only fools would discount Momuz's armor takes ever more blows Momuz's guard's spear ever slows The mason remaining, ever knows Buying time for their brothers was the end they chose. [link] [comments] | ||
| Posted: 17 Feb 2021 07:27 PM PST VOD: https://www.twitch.tv/videos/918524642 Humans come with a number of caveats that make them an interesting challenge in normal embarks without increasing the difficulty very much. Now, on an evil embark with a tower and goblins close by, humans get a little [link] [comments] | ||
| Roaring laughter from a jail cell Posted: 17 Feb 2021 08:57 PM PST If a dwarf has a fell mood while imprisoned (caged)... what happens? They got real messed up from being rained on in 133 and things just haven't been right with them since. [link] [comments] | ||
| The vampiric tales of Alath Joychannels Posted: 17 Feb 2021 04:33 PM PST The son Alath, son of Bim Tourstone and Morul Deathsabre, was born in the merry year of 44. The year of the legendary frilly festival in Mansioncircles, where melodic passages of Scintillating Silkiness were chanted through the great halls, while offerings of items consumed most of the nights until the wee hours of dawn. Bim, Captain of the Guard in The Mindful Town, had only been stationed for 4 years when he discovered that his lover was with child. Not only had Morul recently made a fortune while gambling at the illustrious inn The Constructive Breakfast of Ringing in the mountain fortress Inkhanced to the far east. She was a trusted noble, the Hammerer of Sepia Bell, and a hardworking individual of great spirit. Morul was a great find for Bim, a candlelight of hope, a burning furnace of temperament and a companion to help him through the mindnumbingly peaceful days of the quiet town he was set to defend. Nothing ever happened in Mindful Town, at least not while Bim was in charge. It was the happiest of times. Fortune smiled upon the couple when little Alath arrived, and for a year, all was as it should be. After a while Morul started to become anxious to relive past adventures. Her former lover, baron Asmel Crushstake the Abyssal of the dwarven civilization The Infinite Iron, had been abducted by a twilight troll after only three years of marriage. The tragedy still haunted her sleep and increased her restlessnes. She argued with Bim over the smallest of details. How he never put away his wooden chalice after his fifth serving of exquisite plum wine. How he never did any chores round the house. How he neglected his fatherly duties. Bim never raised his hand to the furious woman, but instead took to the wine pot for comfort. One evening Morul had had enough. She packed her bags, filled her chest to the brim with the rest of her winnings and set off to Lockpaddle in the vicinity of Inkchanted. With a trusted courier, she sent the farvel letter and never looked back. Dear Bim, I have tried to contain my increasingly agitated emotions towards your careless nature, but I must admit defeat. Perhaps am I too coloured by my tragic history. Perhaps am I too impatient and of a restless nature. The quiet life of Mindful Town is simply unbearable. I am nothing of a house dwarf, my spirit is free. You and me are bound by earth and wind, by forces beyond our fathom, forces which have given us our wonderful Alath. I will send a small sum of coins each passing month. You shall spend it on clothes, food, wooden puzzle boxes from that funny elven caravan, and you shall NOT piss it away on plum wine. The coin is to Alath's benefit and health, not your guilty pleasures. Farewell, Bim, and may Tobul watch over your docile soul. Morul Bim was left alone, raising his little boy on his own. Luckily, the quiet days as Captain of the Guard was never-ending, and he had plenty of opportunity to care for and play with Alath. He stopped drinking the day after Morul's departure. The years went by and little Alath grew to a strong and adventurous character. At the age of 12, he picked up his sword and shield to work as a mercenary for Inkchanted. Within a year he was promoted to militia commander. Following in his father's footsteps as a career military officer was perhaps a predictable development. In the year of 63, he met the first great love of his life, Ingiz Toolbrush the Weather of Yelling. She was an excitement. A wild huntress from the hillocks of Lividroads, merely 13 years of age but a dream come true for young Alath. He faced the Gods and thanked Vesh, the deity of suicide, for all his fortune. The father Alath's firstborn son, Tulon, saw the light of day on a bittersweet autumn afternoon in 74. A healthy child who faced his challenges with fortitude and resolve. Scouting led him down the same military path of his father, and eventually he became the Captain of the Guard of Sepia Bell. Alath could not have been more proud of his son. Yet, tragedy was constantly looming. Between 74-119, Alath and Ingiz lost six children to trolls, forgotten beasts and goblin abductions. Their two daughters saw but a few moons before being snatched away. It was a turbulent and serious time. They lost both focus and industry, their career's stagnated, treacherous and false friends used the weak couple's disposition to their own advantage. Father Bim had settled closer to his son and provided a much needed help around the house. Mother Morul never visited, but she did increase her monthly contribution after winning large at the tables in The Laborious Syrup in Lockpaddle. Alath clearly inherited his mother's disposition and spent many a night at the tables of The Constructive Breakfast of Ringing. Lorbam, Alath's older brother, substituted as tavernkeeper on some nights. Just mentioning his mother's name in the job application was enough to land him the position. Her winnings in 39 were still legendary. In the year 90, it was Alath's turn. He did well during the local tournament and won half a coffer's worth of coin. His officer's wages were meagre, and such winnings were a welcomed addition to the family treasury. Alath's father died of old age in 107, leaving nothing but worn leather clothing, some outdated military equipment and a deep hole in Alath's soul. He took to the tavern after every shift. This led to great misfortune for Ingiz. She fell out of touch with her husband and looked for opportunities to reignite their relationship. What if she would join him at the tables? She started carefully, only betting small amounts to learn the rules of the game and to observe the laws of probability. It seemed so easy for Alath, almost hereditary. His skill and command of cards and dice was celebrated. For Ingiz, it required methodology and patience. Slowly but steadily she increased her bets, always making sure to never lose more than she could afford. She had turned to Vesh for guidance in life and death, and her confidence grew for every dice thrown and card played. In 113 she felt at her peak. All the forgotten beasts in the world could not stop her from betting large this early autumn evening. She held her breath. The cards turned against her. She lost a great fortune and had to acquire a loan to cover her losses. Deep in debt and despair, Ingiz left the tables for the last time. Alath increased his gambling activities trying to provide for the family. In 115 he made a foolish bet and lost it all. The couple struggled along, trying to make ends meet, making the best out of a difficult situation. As time goes and struggles persist, surely as sand slips between one's fingers, feelings wither and die. Love turned to duty, work turned to chore, hope turned to remembrance. What they previously had was long gone, all they could see was an endless sea of challenge. They separated. Ingiz took it the toughest. She profaned the Church of Ashes, the temple in which they had spent countless sermons. From beyond the veil of reality rose the deity Vesh. Called upon by the cursed profanity, he comforted his troubled child and promised an eternity of ethereal pleasure and wellbeing. The price of admission was life. She was cursed, forced to roam the land as a llama werebeast until the end of her reign of terror. A reign too lengthy to describe in these written chronicles, but a reign which will go down in the codexes as a painfully ironic chapter: The fiery hunter, turned prey, turned hunter. The lover Alath lived on in Inkcharted while tending to his chores and duties. All his fortunes and hopes were lost, and for a few years he wandered steadfast between the barracks, the tavern and his bed. In 137, he accidentally stumbled across a table at the tavern where a group of young medical professionals were having a small celebration. Young wildling Asen Shootvessels from the hinterlands had just received the news: She was to become the next Chief Medical Dwarf of the Sepia Bell. Stodir Manorwind who had "mushroomed" the position for half a century, fled the fortress after facing murder suspicions of a vampiric nature. Asen felt a great honour and responsibility to assume this venerable and important position, but at least for tonight the mood was lighthearted and celebratory. Alath immediately noticed the spark in her eyes, the tone of her laughter, her light disposition and her professional seriousness. They danced on the tables and drank an abundance of sweet, sweet plum wine for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps it lasted forever. For Alath it was like stones were lifted from his chest. Replaced by fairy feathers and pig tail cloth. For the very first time in a long, long time, he was happy. Five years of bliss went rushing by. Asen excelled in her position and the happy couple spent their holidays going to recitals, performances, war axe throwing competitions, foot races and festivals. There was no time for gambling, and since Alath still had debts to settle, no disposable income for it either. Asen was much younger than Alath, and eventually she started noticing the age difference. When she wanted to go dancing after a long day of diagnosis and meetings with the medical board, Alath preferred a quiet evening of reading. One morning in 142, on a youthful impulse, she left Alath. Her lighthearted nature could not foresee the consequences. Alath was struck with melancholy. He turned to the wine pot, like father, like son. In a drunken rage of almost a year, he sought comfort in younger women. At one point in 143, an older baroness of the Infinite Iron offered Alath her hand. Perhaps she pitied for the poor officer. Or maybe it was the loneliness after her fourth breakup that prompted the impromptu marriage proposal. Nevertheless, Alath saw the economic opportunity, and could definitely use the comfort and wisdom of an older companion. But love? No. Alath had only one true love left in his life. A love which would follow him to the beyond. Depression is a foul beast. Once melancholy has struck, it takes an almost impossible journey from the pits of darkness to the beacon of hope. Alath struggled. His duties had never felt more meaningless, his life seemed like a random series of events with interconnected characters. He wore his losses, but it was wearing on him now. Pondering the meaninglessness, he took a final leap of faith. While seeking shelter in the Church of Ashes, he realised that ending his life was the final stone left unturned. He brought forth the dagger his dear departed father had left him in his inheritance. He was ready. "Morul, Tulon, Asen: Please forgive me". From the veil, a voice was heard. He did not hear it clearly at first, but when he noticed the creature, he dropped both his jaw and his dagger. Vesh unveiled himself. Alath had for a long time been a believer, but actually seeing the deity in earthly form was an experience beyond his wildest imagination. The deity humbly accepted the suicidal offering. But fate is a cruel mistress. Alath was bitten, drained both of his blood and of his last thread of hope. The vampire It took little over a year before the inevitable happened. A young miner was found dead, blood drained to the last drop. The people had noticed Alath's change and resignation, and many a dwarf accused him for the murder. No witnesses were ever questioned, no conviction passed, no sentence carried out. The rumours spread to the neighbouring hillocks. Alath had trouble walking the streets unharmed. In the early summer of 146, Alath moved away from his childhood home. Carefully packing only the most vital supplies, he set off to Cobaltspots, a suburb of Inkcharted. It reeked of shit and mischief, as dwarven outcasts and camels were in overwhelming majority. He made friends with the local bard, Vucar Packtombs, and soon began his apprenticeship. Vucar rarely accepted new apprentices in his carefully selected crew. Most requests were denied with the excuse "I prefer to work alone", but Alath could see right through the ruse. The bard was merely hedging his bets on the most promising prospects while maintaining his good standing in the small community. Being an experienced tavern hound, Alath would wine and dine the bard, offer platitudes and praises, always making sure to take his side in discussions. The bard was flattered and figured he could use another friendly in his company. Alath started composing written words. Horribly at first, mere practice pieces of insufficient quality. However, his military duties were to force an abrupt change of scenery. The station at Merchantdanced had for a long time conspired against a small goblin fort half a day's march to the north. Goblin forts were plentiful in the region, and the dwarven civilisation had been at war with the cretins for so long that the populace had stopped using the word "peace" in their daily speech. Brilliant strategists came come up with a foolproof plan to attack in the midwinter of 150. Their local informant had reported of massive alcohol shortages. Moral was at it's weakest during the darkest months. Alath was summoned to join the military conquest of Plaguesoots, and he excelled. He delivered the five mortal bolts that ended the goblin commander's reign. Upon his return to Merchantdanced, he was commended for his efforts and celebrated as a conquerer. He spent some time with his war veteran companions in the hillocks. But being stationary for longer periods proved difficult for the hungry vampire. Soon, suspicions were raised after a night of tending to his vampiric needs. Thus began the final chapters of Alath's journey. The author As far north-east man could travel, on top of a cliff at the edges of the world, lay the monastery of Foldskinned. Surrounded by the sea and the mountains, highlands and forests, a troubled dwarf could find solace in his solitude. At the aptly named "The Fated Shrine", he prayed. The late summer days of 156 were both warm and long, and he spent the majority of his time within the shrine's sacred walls. Famous local legends told tales of a weary traveller who, atoning for past indiscretions while seeking shelter in Foldskinned, would become the saviour of the dwarven civilisation. Alath, convinced he was the foretold traveller, assumed position as prophet. Moons turned to suns, suns turned to moons, years came and years went by, but his atonements remained unfulfilled. Depression and melancholy, depression and melancholy. Little is known of the years that followed. A bibliography does however remain, and future scholars might shed light on the intricacies of the troubled dwarven mind. Alath's first creation, "It All Begins with Meeting" from 181, tells the tale of intrigue and falsehood, of deceit and abuse. A biographical reenactment of the early years in Inkcharted, where Alath and his first lover Ingiz were used in evil plots. His writings of his own tragedy must have sparked a glimpse of inspiration. In 185 he tried to corrupt his old mentor and master Vucar, to no avail. A similar attempt was made at a local bard, but it failed miserably. One can hardly be surprised that Alath's following essay "Do We Understand Intrigue?" addresses the moral difficulties of his evil deeds. Especially the attempt towards his master is a powerful reminder of how guilt and remorse remains ever-present, even during the darkest of melancholies. The essay was created within the short span of two years. He must have had many stones to get off his chest. "Do We Understand Foldskinned?" is a melancholic masterpiece from 189. It describes his solitude and remorse, cleverly blended with beautiful poetic paintings of the natural scenery surrounding his abode. "The Dwarf Interpreted" is a solid introspection of his short years in Merchantdanced, during which he took up apprenticeship with Vucar. Belonging, friendship and study are recurring themes, and we see a regretting dwarf questioning his actions and morals. It must have cost him dearly to write such honest and truthful descriptions of his own evil. He profaned the Fated Shrine in anger and despair after finishing the book. "Journey to the Fort" from 205 and "Concerning the Fort" from 208, both reports of the siege of Plaguesoots, are small apropos in his oeuvre. As poorly written attempts of vindication for his participation in the military conquest of the foreign civilisation, with detailed descriptions of the gruesome actions taken against the goblin commander, they are historically interesting. They do however serve as reminders of Alath's ever-present remorse. It seems he struggled to find a form which would preserve his voice in the chronicles of the world. It took years for him to finish his next project. An exquisite forgotten beast parchment scroll named "The History of Alath Joychannels", authored in 222, is perhaps the pinnacle of his creation. A compact, vivid and bittersweet story of how two dwarves found each other in a troubled world, how heaven and earth collide with massive force, and how frantically fantastic and short-lived true happiness can be. Asen was truly his life's morning star. It is a depressing and melancholic read, a personal biography in one single scroll, a letter to the world. "Against the Monastery", "The World of the Monastery" and "The Pursuit of the Monastery", the Monastery-triology, is a serious undertaking. It provides extensive instructions and descriptions of the daily life required to reach a prophet's full potential. Not of a biographical nature, but rather a guide for future generations of monastery servants. The enormous project finished in 243. 62 years of solitude and toil had come to an end. It took him three years to recover from the endeavour. One final profanity was apparently in order. He cursed the Fated Shrine for the last time, and set out to roam the world. His vampiric appetite was calling. His fate was sealed. The murderer How he ended up in the dwarven fortress of Wheelbasements is unknown. In the year 254, hunter Kogan Ushatzareth was brutally murdered and drained of all blood. No witnesses to the murder made the investigations a chore. The main doors were locked, inhabitants and visitors were ordered to their chambers, and the militia held a tight guard of the narrow halls while the Captain of the Guard did his interrogations. To no avail, not a single suspect could be convicted of the heinous crime. The captain inspected the body in the casket. Nothing, not a shred of evidence. He was livid and frustrated. His mind driftet, exhausted from all the hammerings. Tired in every limb of his body, he kneeled by the casket and lay his left hand on the engraved memorial slab. In a fleeting moment, a true coincidence or perhaps a play of fate, he caught himself reading. His eyes opened, his mind awakened. It read: "In memory of Kogan Ushatzareth / Born 224 / Drained of blood by the dwarf vampire Alath Joychannels in the year 254 / Hunter of Elephants / Devoted husband." He read it twice, no, three times. He had never heard this name before, and his interrogations restarted. When none of the inhabitants or the visitors cracked this time around either, he turned to his trusted military. He looked them all deeply in their eyes, one by one. His comrades, his war veterans, his friends. At last, he stood in front of Obok, the sturdy axedwarf with whom he had fought both goblins and kobolts. Obok cracked without a single word uttered. The captain was speechless. Eventually a confession was told, the arrest was made and the execution was scheduled. On a cold winter morning in 254, the captain carried out the sentence himself, beating Alath Joychannels to his final rest in front of a horrified crowd. The engraver was questioned for his knowledge of the murder, but he could not give a clear answer. All he said was: "It was destined. It was foretold". The puzzled captain did not have the energy to conduct further investigations. Happy to have solved the case and delivered a sentence, but devastated to have lost what he thought of as a friend, he ordered a memorial slab for the killer to prevent the inevitable ghost antics. The engraver set off with ambition to deliver his finest work. The captain took a few days off to rest, but his curiosity led him to the evidence chambers where he had stored all of Alath's belongings. He rummaged through the pile once more and grabbed the strange parchment which he had ignored in his initial investigations. He brought it to his chambers, lay on his bed and started reading. He wept of sudden remorse. So eager to convict and pass sentence, so hurried to complete his duty. He had not even considered the perils of the accused. Surely, a vicious murderer must be punished. But understanding the story, the coincidences leading to the attack, the horrors a full lifetime could entail, was never considered. A few days later, the engraver delivered the slab for inspection, as was practice with the slabs of the convicted. He asked for a final revision, a small addition. The captain waited by the workshop until completion, carried the slab to the casket and placed it carefully against the wall. "In memory of Alath Joychannels / Born 44 / Beaten to death by Iden Vudtharvucar for the murder of Kogan Ushatzareth in the year 254 / Vampire / At one with The History of Alath Joychannels". Epilogue Thus ends the tale of Alath Joychannels. Son, father, lover, vampire, author and murderer. 210 years on earth. A mere coincident led to his demise. Perhaps the engraver was right. Perhaps it was foretold. The world will never know, as the world is random by nature. But the sun will always turn to moon, the moon will always turn to sun, and forgotten beasts will always roam the hillocks of Dwarf Fortress. Disclaimer All historic events described in this story are randomly generated by the 250 year world generation. The characters, events, dates, locations and artefacts are all true. The embellishments are made from intuition by connecting the unwritten dots. The emotions, aspirations and motivations are all implied. The causes for events are imagined. The level of details that are available to one's scrutiny and investigations are impressive. One is left in complete admiration. This was my first ever successful fort. I had previously barely opened the legends browser. When the murder of Kogan was so hastily solved by a sole engraver, my curiosity peaked. Who was this unknown murderer? When his 200+ years were laid out in the legends, all his connections, his family and friends, his achievements and productions, I was in awe. The level of detail is insane; pure and utter insanity! It should not be possible, but here we are. With a tale of generated existence. With all the excitements, challenges and perils of real life. A tale of love, loss, ambition, deceit, success, failure, despair and melancholy. [link] [comments] | ||
| Posted: 18 Feb 2021 02:17 AM PST When trying to use Legends Viewer I get following error: "Unhandled exception has occured in your application. If you click Continue, the application will ignore this error and attempt to continue. If you click Quit, the application will close immediately. Sequence contains more than one matching elements." There is also "Details" option, I can write what it says if it's of any use. I would have asked on forums but I am still waiting on admins approval. All files necessary are correctly pointed. I don't have access to Internet on my computer currently, so I can't provide a picture, but if necessary I can post it later. I have tried restarting the application and re-exporting the files. I am using PeridexisErrant's Starter Pack 0.47.05 when it comes to mods. [link] [comments] |
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