Zombie Weasels and the Collapse of Society

It isn't particularly rare that an experienced player of Dwarf Fortress builds a functioning fortress, in fact, creating a functioning self-sufficient fortress that can repel or avoid attacks and sieges is pretty commonplace. The real "fun" comes from building megaprojects, like giant statues of dwarves rigged to vomit magma on gobilins, or massive towers made out of pure gold that inspire awe in all who see it.

Luckily, I am not good at Dwarf Fortress, so my games become interesting pretty quickly.

Prestigecities, a new dwarven settlement in the white sand desert. Sand deserts promise many things, such as soil for crops, a low chance of having an aquifer, and material for infinite amounts of glasswork.

I have settled in a haunted desert, meaning that the land itself is hostile to life. It is one of the first times I have embarked in such an area, and so I am not quite sure what will happen.

In haunted biomes, it may rain blood or snow ash. Dead bodies will rise up instantly after death and attack their former friends and family with a newfound bloodlust and complete disregard for living beings. Perhaps most terrifying of all, demon fogs have been known to roll through haunted areas, turning all who touch its mist into horrible abominations bent on destruction.

One story in the Bay12 forums tells of a fog that turned its victims into virtually unkillable husks that could turn others simply by touching them. I feared what horrors would await me, and anticipated with glee how I would solve them.

Unfortunately, there were no epic battles. There were no genius traps, and there was no glorious victory over land that refused to be conquered. There wasn't even a farm.

A weasel. A zombie weasel ran onto the map and scared all of my dwarves so bad that they literally ran around in circles until they died of thirst.

Stupid dwarves.