In what can only be described as a horrific accident, a child drowned today after deciding that the best place to get a drink from was the flooded section. He was then swept into a channel that I'd made to drain some water while I blocked off that section. I am expecting spectacular meltdowns from his parents, "The Belgian" and "Crackmaster", any day now.
In an attempt to reclaim these rooms, which are now proving to be more trouble than they're worth, I've diverted the water flow into the bottomless pit.
In my investigation with regards to who had even built these damned death-traps, I learned from some of the older dwarves that a previous ruler who shared my hatred for the elitist pigs had designed them as actual traps for these wastes of flesh, but had never put his plan into action. A subsequent ruler, looking to ingratiate himself with them, much like a dog will do tricks for its master to get his scraps, had then disassembled it and obviously failed to take the proper precautions.
Oh, what now? Apparently "Yalius", was throwing a tantrum. Apparently he was offended that her rooms were not up to snuff. This surprised me because she didn't, in fact, have any rooms so I really don't see how she can complain about them.
Oh, also he lost his wife at some point, but I really couldn't care less about the plight of the nobility. In her rage, she decides to destroy a floor hatch, with absolutely no regard to the fact that it might have been in use. Typical.
I let him vent, if he becomes more agitated then, well... we'll just have to take care of that. In fact, I'm starting to see how we can solve all of our problems, in one fell swoop.
No migrants this year: most likely discouraged by the plight of the working class. How I dream of the day that Headshoots will be a shining beacon of Socialist progress in which all Dwarves will want to live.
"The Strangest Finch" slipped and fell while working on the project. Fortunately, he had finished most of his duties so it was not a big loss.
A thief popped up today. One of our brave pump operators, "Robindaybird", did not hesitate to tear him apart limb by limb. He had to be forcefully conscripted and threatened with an even worse death before he'd do it, but he later understood that sometimes the needs of the people must come before our own. The military, as usual, turned up late and attempted to take all the glory. Not today, "Good Professor", not today.
While overseeing the construction of the floodgates that would be used to unflood the fortress, I noticed one of the Champions, X, rush over to one of our Mechanics, "ToxicFrog". When I asked him what he was doing he simply muttered "Chaining an animal". The next moment he had put clasps on Y and dragged him off to prison without so much as an explanation. Apparently Y had "disobeyed a production order" from our resident bitch, "Yalius". I was livid, the nobility had finally gone too far. I was now more decided than ever to put an end to their abuse of power.
More migrants arrived today. Most of them could not afford beds and are sleeping wherever they can, I'm doing my best to keep morale high, but it's not easy when "Yalius" and the other nobles prance about in their garish clothes, doing their best to ignore their homeless brethren.
"EvilKoolAidMan" was struck down. Some unruly wild animal, I suppose. A shame, but such is the life in Headshoots. The socialist division of labour, however, means that his absence is barely felt.
We lose 3 more dwarves to yet another collapse due to the project. The death toll is high, but we are finally done. I've done the calculations, and this time it should work. It will work! Soon Headshoots will be purged of its worst elements.
I call the worst of the nobility to a meeting: "Beeswax", "Smuggings", "Olesh" and that insufferable "Yalius". I tell them that I have built them the most lavish accommodations possible, a feat of engineering that has taken the lives of many dwarves but that will ensure that they are never bothered by noise or smell ever again. Their own private rooms in the middle of the bottomless pit. They're slightly smaller than what they're used to, but that's only for now. Oh, it's perfectly safe, yes, they mustn't worry. They follow me to their new rooms and are immediately enthralled, they fall over backwards thanking me. Idiots.
Suddenly a dwarf runs up to me. Goblins spotted in the north! A Siege! Not now, I'm so close! Dispatch the military, all of it! Wait, why aren't they responding? Asleep! Wake up, you idiots. Make yourselves useful you overfed, overequipped sloths!
"jimmyel"'s squad finally responds and rushes over there. Let's see if all the resources spent on these brutes was actually worth it. They don't make it before one of our other hunters is shot down by the goblin marksmen, unfortunately, but they take out the goblin force without too much effort.
Heaven protect us, a second contingent of goblins has snuck past, coming through the south side and made it to the fortress! And most of the military is still returning from the north!
A third wave approaches, also from the south!
A fourth one from the west! Fuck! FUCK!
Oh Gods, they're after me, someone save me!
"jimmyel" makes it to the entrance; and goes into a Martial Trance! BY THE BEARDS HE'S SLAUGHTERING THE GOBLINS, GO, JIMMY, GO! The goblin chasing me doesn't even see the axe before it takes its head clean off. Covered in goblin blood, "jimmyel" looks at me briefly as if too see if I'm ok and then rushes off to finish the job.
The rest of the goblins, about 20 out of an invasion force of 40 or so, terrified at the carnage wrought by our military, make a hasty retreat. We're safe! With only a few lives lost, this could have been much worse. Thank the mountain for the military!
"Phrog II" enters a fey mood, but apparently he has a lower spine injury that prevents him from moving much. That doesn't seem to deter him from at least trying to get to the workshop. You can do it, "Phrog", you can do it.
It's been a few months after the siege and things are back to normal, almost. As the winter reaches its end, I've found myself in a strange situation: after being saved by the military, I've taken a shine to them. Perhaps I was wrong about them, perhaps I was simply to quick too judge them based simply on a difference of ideology. Not all of them are necessarily as bad as the nobility. Hell, even the nobles haven't been so bad lately, why "Yalius" has even invited me to eat in his own private dining room tomorrow night. It would be nice to finally eat with some peace and quiet, away from the disgusting mess that is the common dining room. Yes, that "Yalius" is not so bad, maybe I'll even give him that adamantine weapon rack he's been griping about...
What have I become... I'm one of them now, look at me! Is this the cost of being in power? Is this transformation inevitable? No! I will not accept this, I will not become this! I must put end to this madness before it finally destroys Headshoots. The four nobles are in their rooms sleeping, now is the time! I run over there and find the lever, suddenly realizing that I had never actually come up with a good lie to convince them to activate the trap themselves, as I'd originally planned. Oh, well, it didn't matter anymore, I would have to do it myself. A fitting ending, really, after my horrible fall into corruption.
Without a second thought, I pull the lever.
Save will be up in a few minutes, but first I wanted to show you guys how I just broke Dwarf Fortress:
After I pulled the lever, I got the expected "A section of the cavern has collapsed" message, and I could see the clouds of somke around the area. But for some reason the structure stayed there, floating. A second later, 3 of the 4 nobles clipped through the floor and fell to the chasm. The only survivor was "Smuggings", who is now living in his floating chasm island until he dies of thirst or someone extends the bridge to him.
Edit: There's actually a couple of days left in the lat month of winter, but I'll upload the save as it is now, since I'm basically dead. Also, Phrog you just went insane because people kept dragging you back to bed each time you collapsed on the way to the workshop.