Wherein Jake Gets Overexcited About Dwarves

Toady finally released version 0.34.01 of Dwarf Fortress! There's some pretty serious bugs that have to be addressed in the coming weeks, but I managed to generate a passable world. I'll be using the Phoebus tile set, which generally makes the game easier to understand by replacing the ASCII characters with little pictures of trees and dogs and demons and whatnot.

I'll be playing as Rorik Ironbutter, a proficient swordsman wielding quite possibly the worst weapon in the entire game: a copper two handed sword that can neither cut through armor nor be wielded properly while using a shield. A recipe for fun indeed.

I talked to a weaponsmith about any goings-on in the area surrounding the city. He pointed me in the direction of a dark and mysterious tower, instructing me to slay Xidel Eyescorched, the necromancer that lives there. Being the brave adventurer I am, I accepted.

After consulting my map, I plotted a course for the tower and set out. I had minimal food, minimal water, and no one to protect me from the horrible abominations that stalk the night. At last, I approached the tower, eager to sink my blade into the flesh of the undead.

Oh. Armok. No. I counted five necromancers and easily twice as many shambling corpses within the first floor of the tower. I tried to make a hasty retreat, hoping they hadn't spotted me, but I was far too late. Faced with no other recourse, I gripped my sword and charged into battle.

My first hit is a lucky one, severing one of the necromancer's tendons. His arm will be nearly useless for the remainder of this battle.

I retreated quickly out of the tower to reduce the chances of being cornered. Another blow to the necromancer slices open one of his arteries and causes him to drop his weapon.

His blood gushes out of the wound in his arm, quickly leaving his body empty. It slumps to the ground, pale and lifeless, before standing up again under the power of a different necromancer. It groans an unearthly groan and moves toward me.

A quick blow with my sword sends the abomination stumbling backward, giving me time to focus my attack on a different necromancer. After a few minor cuts and bruises, she begins fleeing for her life.

The fool. She thought that she could escape death by practicing unholy magics and making covenants with demons, but all the magic in the world couldn't save her from my sword. Her intestines spill to the ground, and I move my focus to another foe. The necromancer is no concern of mine any longer, death will find her soon enough.

The next necromancer's left arm is shattered by a powerful blow of my sword. Copper may not be strong enough to sever limbs, but the force of the strike leaves him wracked with pain. He passes out, unable to handle it, and I slash his head apart at my leisure. Three down. Two to go.

Running? Oh, you poor things. Haven't you learned that running from Rorik Ironbutter can only end in a slow and painful death?

I finally catch up to the fleeing necromancer, and stab him in the back. He attempts to attack me, but his efforts are fruitless.

With my sword embedded in his back, I am left with no other option than to punch the necromancer in the back of the head. The intensity of the battle has given me superhuman strength, it would seem, for I easily crush his skull and destroy his brain. He falls to the ground and I remove my sword, just in time for the final necromancer to raise him as a walking corpse.

The battle with the final necromancer is short. Fearful for his life, he makes several mistakes, allowing me to sever the motor nerves of both his feet. He falls to the ground, unable to move, and I slice open his belly and leave him to die.

With the necromancers dead, all that remains is to clear the landscape of their unholy work. My muscles ache and my bones grow weary. I am covered in cuts and bruises and I have seen more death today than most will witness in a lifetime. I couldn't be happier.

Oh, Rorik. You got dark.

EDIT: Rorik was later eaten by wolves.