A Cat in the Waterworks! A Dwarf Fortress Tale

[Semli]

The following conversation took place in #EFU today:

god damn cats
one got suck in my waterworks, now I gotta hold up everything and get him oout
You're still talking Dwarf Fortress, right?
dorf
DROF
yes
seriously fong
i have seen dr
you are lying
?
about what
that that stuff is possible
 dude I will take screenshots right now
and you will eat your words
and everyone will laugh at you
-everyone-
drof frot
YES HES OUT
EXTRACTION COMPLETE
screenshot faggort
GO GO GO GO
alright fag I'll do it right now
screenshot faggort

And so I give you, A CAT IN THE WATERWORKS: A DWARF FORTRESS TALE!

In the dwarven outpost of Solozdegel, or the Galleys of Worship in the tongue of the Humans, it was Mid-Winter in the year of 1053. The dwarves had recently landed, and were attempting to accomplish what other dwarven parties had failed too; establish a foothold that would later become the capital city of their empire. In the haunted mountains far from the protected realm of the dwarf king, they had toiled for almost a year, gaining much. There, Doren Morultimnar, an ambitious dwarf of common birth, had staked his claim and led his people to a better tomarrow.

The work was hard and their original food supplies had been exhausted and they‘d been eating mussels from the brook for some time. Doren assigned some of the workers with less tasks to gathering berries and such from the mountainside in order to supplement their meager diets. For drink (of which there was no proper sort to be had), they went to the brook which ran along the base of the mountain. The vultures that attacked them as they toiled outside were a mixed blessing as the meat had gone a long way. As Doren picked vulture liver from his teeth in the rough, earthen halls of their outpost one eve, he had what seemed as an epiphany.



It would be a massive underground reservoir, filled with water from the brook. There they could dip their buckets safely without need to travel the dangerous mountainside, and could even (with some luck) catch fish from the safety of their outpost interior! He even drew up plans for an impressive underground agricultural section where they might one day grow crops. Taking up the pickaxe himself, he struck the earth alongside the longtime miner Mosus Ethabdodok.

They toiled for two long seasons beside one another, saying little. The work was grueling, but the only time the  broad shouldered Mosus would pause besides for food, drink, or sleep, would be to stroke his ever present companion, Feb the cat. At length the pair managed to dig out the system. The Mechanics and Masons installed the necessary levers, floodgates, and walls which would be necessary to safely control the flow. At last Doren stood before the completed system, enjoying his moment whilst Mosus called for his cat. As he pulled the lever to start the system, the Mechanics and Masons let out a small applause as the slush  of water could be heard when they pressed their ears to the stone. They had done it! Suddenly, Mosus burst into the room from the shafts below.

“My cat! I think Feb is in the waterworks!” The assembled exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of what to do. Doren quickly cleared his throat.

“Surely you can’t expect us to halt progress simply because of a-” He paused as Mosus collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.

“Feb… Feb! Oh gods, drowning alone! Noooooo…” He cradled himself and shook. Doren was reminded of tales he had heard from those who had attempted to dissuade him from setting out originally of outposts lost to madness, and how it would spread almost like a disease, causing dwarves to go insane. He realized that he had pushed them too hard; that a year without drink or amenity was not bearable, and that if he did this, he would put not only the outpost, but his very life in jeopardy. He had to act.

“Halt the flow and open the floodgate,” he commanded. The Mechanics were quick to follow his directions, manipulating each of the levers in turn. As the neighboring floodgate slid open, he turned to Mosus, who had regained some of his composure. “… Search quickly.”

Mosus stumbled to the opening, calling out into the shaft for his cat. There was only silence in between each one. As a few minutes passed, the dwarves began suggesting that the cat may be out on the countryside hunting some small game, or some other activity. At length however, there was a small scraping that could be heard as something moved toward them in the darkness.



It was Feb! The cat leaped into Mosus’ arms as the dwarf laughed in joy! All except Doren were forced to smile at his child-like delight as he whisked the cat away with promises of treats and games. With a simple nod, the passage was sealed by floodgate once more and the flow restarted.




Over the next few days, the dwarves of Solozdegal were able to draw water from the bucket, and even managed to plant a field of plump helmets by utilizing the irrigation system Doren had designed. It would be those same plump helmets that were later destilled and barreled. And as the first barrel of Dwarven Beer was poured and shared, a hearty cheer arose from the dwarves who partook.

“LONG LIVE THE KING! LONG LIVE DOREN! LONG LIVE SOLOZDEGAL!”

[Equinox]

Noone gives a shit.

[E_Buddhist]

That looks a lot better than the ASCII stuff I've seen. Mayday's tileset, right? I'm tempted to give it a try despite my huge back pile of other games and books...

[Semli]

Yup, that theres Maydays.

Eq fuck you scum

[The Crimson Magician]

don't eat the dogs

[Semli]

I don't typically have that problem, although I did have a few hungry looking dwarves this go around before the first plump helmet harvest.