World of Dorfcraft.

Hey everyone, so a friend and I had been planning to do a team Ironman run-through on World of Warcraft. However, as the conversation went on, we moved on to talking about Dwarf Fortress. And it was then that inspiration struck. We would do a Dorffort run on WoW. Here are the rules we have agreed on:

Death is the End, re-roll or wait until the other player dies/quits.

No 'Magical' Classes.

No Hearthstone, delete it.

Each 'day' [each session] a meal must be eaten. That's one beverage [preferably alcoholic] and one item of food. It is recommended to have a stack or two of each on your person. Quaffing sessions are perfectly welcome.

Only white armour/weapons allowed, unless crafted by the player. If crafted, only ONE epic quality item may be worn and only green items otherwise.

No potions.

Each Player must choose a 'Main Weapon' for each session.

No Profession based tracking skills [i.e. track herbs/minerals]

Talents and professions are acceptable; though only professions that exist in Dwarf Fortress can be taken. First aid and Cooking are recommended.

No 'care packages'. I.e. items/money sent from other characters own by the team.

DORFS ONLY

After our first session, I decided to write an account of our adventure. Let's hope we survive long enough for a few decent chapters to be written.

Dear Mother.

I won't bore you with a recount of the trip to the Eastern Kingdoms, though it should be noted that I will never be sailing again. The decks are confusingly named, there is no-where to vomit that doesn't get seawater in the beard and the Rum is on ration. Whoever heard of a thing like that…Rum…on Ration? I had one cup of rum a day, and had to drink water all the rest of the time. I feel if I have to make the return trip via the ocean I shall be taking my own barrel.

Uncle Urist met me at the dock. From your description of him and his sobriety; I had assumed that, much like the outcast soberites at home, he would be dressed in whatever rags he could find. It shocks me even as I write this to tell you that this is most definitely not the case. Uncle Urist is, as I understand now, an adventurer of highest regard here. His armour is perfectly crafted, crusted with beautiful gems and it gleams…oh how it gleams. He took me to a 'Dwavern District' in the human capital and after finding a pub went in. His armour even gleams in candlelight mother!

I discovered that Uncle Urist is part of a society of similar adventurers, part of what he called a Guild. We met a few of his brethren, and I was taken aback. Two Humans and an Elf! The humans I can understand, they at least understand the basic concept of industry. But an Elf. He had MOSS on his armour. Urist quickly took me to one side, and explained that here; the humans, dwarves and elves are part of an 'Alliance', which fights a 'Horde'. I didn't exactly get it, but Uncle assures me that this is ok. I have also discovered that Uncle has changed his name since arriving here. Whilst at home he is known by his birth-name; Urist, his guild-mates referred to him as Longjon of the Silver Beard. I assume it is a Human thing, naming a dwarf after his facial hair.

After a short drinking session; [I noted that Uncle only drank some 'dew' drink], Uncle took me outside to a small field. Mother, should I live to be a hundred; I will still never quite believe what I saw. He took out a small stone whistle, and blew it. I could hear no sound, but after a few moments I heard it…the beat of wings. Cresting a hill to our left was the largest Dragon I have ever seen. The dragons at home have nothing on this beast. Its hide was unlike the scales of a normal dragon, they seemed to be made of rock, its crest and tail glittering with growing gemstones. Uncle merely smiled at my shock. I feverishly wondered why he didn't draw his weapon, but when the creature landed before us and lowered its shoulder, Uncle simple STEPPED ONTO ITS BACK. He rides a dragon mother…a dragon made of stone and gems. It had teeth longer then my beard and he rides it. Uncle tells me it was at this point that I passed out.

When I awoke, I was in a small clearing. It was cold, but not uncomfortable. I sat up and found a small note pinned to my beard. It read "Welcome to the deep end. Lj." Crunching snow alerted me to the approach of another dwarf, though obviously not Uncle. He picked me up, and with a strange look on his face, pressed a double bitted Axe into my hands. The next few hours of my life were strange to say the least. Well…I say strange but that dragon took up my entire strange quota for the month! It appeared that I had been dropped off by a small settlement, really nothing more than a small inn.

There appeared to be a battle occurring in the area though, as a large group of deformed looking creatures continually charged a thin line of Dwarves armed with weapons like I have never seen before. Image a crossbow, but without the arms. They make the most almighty bang when fired. Apparently they are called Guns and a rather common here. I will try to buy one in the future and send it to you. I'm sure father would love to tinker with it, and I believe they may just give the fortress a needed advantage over those damned Elephants.

The Dwarf that helped me up was armed with one of these devices, and after giving me a pat on the shoulder, lead me over to the line. I must admit, I had no idea who this dwarf was, but he wasn't dressed like the others. The other dwarves in the line all wore a similar uniform; leather, chainmail and green cloaks. This new dwarf wore…well…clothes much like my own, a simple shirt and trousers. "If you want to get out of here, we are going to need someone to keep them at range." He said to me. I could only nod in agreement, and trying to remember all those lessons father gave me stepped out with my new axe.

After quite possibly the most brutal few minutes of my life, I was able to return to the inn. We had held off the 'Troggs' that had been attacking, though a number of the guards have fallen where I had been unable to stop all the creatures getting passed. Both I and the other newcomer had survived though. Whilst I sat getting my arm bandaged [A Trogg wielding a stone axe managed to get past my guard.], the newcomer brought me over a drink. He introduced himself as Adamight. Mother, he is also from our land! He came from Drunkenbrawl, the township north of us!

We sat for a while, drinking and enjoying some fine roast boar when one of the guards approached us. He thanked us, and dropped a pair of packages on the table. They seemed to be weighty, though obviously as a dwarf he had no trouble lifting them. I opened mine hurriedly, inside was a mound of chainmail, and an envelope. The envelope contained a handful of coins, mostly coppers but a few silver. Adamight explained that the currency system here was much simpler than at home. Here, a hundred copper pieces equalled one silver piece, and a hundred silvers equalled one Gold piece. Adamight suggested that we should stick together for a while, as we were both new to the area [though I suspect he had been around a while longer then I had, having known about the money and owning a gun.] and I accepted the offer. Paying for a room at the inn, we slept. Well…He slept, I felt decidedly unsafe, as only one floor separated me from the sky. My old room at the fort never seemed so far away until now.

The next morning, we decided to head to Ironforge, the capital of the dwarves here in the Eastern Kingdoms. I pulled on the chainmail [it felt odd though, and didn't fit quite right. I shall have to buy some tools and make my own when I get the chance] and using a piece of rope, tied the axe to my back. We hiked up the hill, heading out of the small valley, though at the top we were stopped by a guard. He explained that the passageway through the mountain had collapsed, and that a gnome was doing ferry runs for a small price. That small price turned out to be a Silver piece each, but it got us out of the valley. Boats are bad mother, but this thing that the Gnome took us out of the valley on was worse. I can only say I am glad I was unconscious when Uncle brought me here on his dragon…Flying is not right. A rickety and above all noisy mass of metal and wood somehow got us airborne, and deposited us in a small town on a mountain side. At least Uncle's dragon was born to fly. Both Adamight and I ran to a nearby tree…and promptly emptied our bellies against it.

We went our separate ways for a while here, Adamight felt that a good lie down was needed [and I really couldn't argue with him on that], but I felt like taking a look around at the town. I found a local smithy, and managed to persuade him to create me some tools to work with. The costs of things here mother confuse me. A Mug of Ale cost me ten copper pieces, but to buy an iron pickaxe and a set of hammers for the metalworking only cost me four. And the tools were brand new!

A short conversation with a few locals told me all I needed to know about the local metal deposits. Dun Morogh [for that is what this region is called] is rich with copper, and whilst a large mine dominates much of the south of the area, copper is so common here it often be found by just pushing the snow to the side. I took up my pickaxe and decided to go on a little hike to a nearby mountain. The miners didn't lie. After an hour or so and a wolf attack, I found a small deposit in a wolf's den [I mentioned a wolf attack right? Well I was the one attacking]. My pack sufficiently weighted down by the chunks of rock and metal, I wandered back to the town. I needed a good meal and drink.

When I arrived, a man offered to teach me a new recipe he was trying out, and I must admit, the idea she had sounded rather….well…delicious. I agreed, and he explained that in return for the lesson, I would have to fetch some of the raw ingredients. I nodded, and told I would return by the end of the day, and to meet me in the inn. An hour in the forge, and I had smelted the copper into a few workable bars. Another hour passed and I created a set of bracers to match my chainmail shirt and trousers. I still wanted to fix the shirt, but though it would be a better idea to simply find some more copper and make a new set for myself.

I wandered over to the inn and left my tools and pick with Adamight, who despite me being out of town for so long was still sleeping. I brought him a bucket of water, just in case; and locked my equipment in the closet. From the sun's position in the sky, I wagered it was about mid-day when I left, with only my armour and axe. It was early evening when I returned with a mid-sized boar over my shoulder.

The dwarf, who I later learnt was named Ragnar Thunderbrew [apparently a big dwarf in the local area], was indeed waiting for me, and when I arrived with the boar he hurried me into the kitchen. A while later we had the cuts of meat we needed, both halves of the boar's ribcage. The name of the recipe was simple. 'Beer Basted Boar Rips.' I am amazed no-one at home ever thought of this. Mother, from what I have seen [and the brews I have sampled so far] at home we have a much better understanding of alcohol…but we have never tried cooking with it?! These ribs were…something so divine, so perfect that I begged Ragnar to let me write the recipe down. He agreed [I will attach a copy of the recipe to this letter; I strongly recommend you try it]. Whilst the ribs cooked, Ragnar's chef taught me to cook the rest of the boar.

This town is full of people happy to teach mother, as I lay here writing this letter, I can feel the replacement bandage on my arm, that I made and changed myself. I now know the basics of first aid, a handful of helpful recipes [I have at least one type of meal from each of the major animals here in Dun Morogh; Wolf, Bear and Boar]. And one of the local blacksmiths helped me put a better edge on my axe. I think, Mother, that I shall like it here after all. Adamight stayed asleep all day, though I noticed that some of the water had been drunk. As we are heading to Ironforge, a local arms-smith asked me to take an order with me to the capitol for more iron. I will be getting paid for my efforts of course.

I hope this letter finds you well Mother. I would send you a portion of the money I hope to make, but I am aware that coinage will be useless in the fort, and such small quantities of metals equally pointless. However, I have enclosed one copper piece and one silver piece, to show you the quality of the craftsdwarfship on the engravings. Apparently, they use a large steam driven press to make them. I would love to see it.

Yours dutifully,

Your son, Urist.

Beer Basted Boar Ribs:

Ingredients:

One Rack of Full Ribs [Crag boar is a favourite, though I have been told that many types of pork type ribs work with this recipe.]

Beer of choice [Again, according to the recipe, a 'Rhapsody Malt' is the best brew to cook with, but I suspect any full bodied brews will be fine.]

Spices [Salt, Pepper…as the beer provides most of the taste, too many spices may ruin the flavour.]

Method:

Prepare the Ribs. [Having removed the ribs from the boar, remove the 'membrane' from the ribs, as this becomes very tough when cooked. To remove, slide a knife gently underneath and pull it up. Work carefully to remove all traces of the membrane. Once that's done, rub the salt and pepper into the meat. If other spices are used, rub those in as well.]

Prepare the Pan. [Ragnar explained that the pan can get coated in greases and other fluids that may be difficult to remove, and recommended coating the pan with some form of disposable sheeting. I feel that the Heavy Aluminium Foil we had at home may work perfectly for this. Make sure there is enough foil at either end of the pan to fold back over the ribs like a tent. Oh, and make sure the pan is big enough; it should be able to carry all the meat in one layer, as stacking it causes uneven cooking. He mentioned a two-inch depth on the sides of the pan.]

Pour in the Beer. [As simple as it can be, pour the beer into the pan, enough to create a pool a quarter inch in depth.]

Rack up the Ribs. [Place the ribs into the pan, arched upwards, like little bridges. Lay some Wax paper under the ribs, to protect them from the foil.]

Fold the Foil back over the ribs. [Like a little tent, make sure as much of the beer remains in the foil package as possible, and lightly crimp the edges.]

Bake the Ribs. [Place the ribs in an oven that has been pre-heated. Ragnar says it should be about 160°C or 325F or even, as a passing Gnome pointed out, 433K. The ribs should remain in the oven for about an hour, covered and content.]

Drop the Tent. [At this stage, the ribs should be nearly ready. Take the pan out of the oven and open up the foil. Be damn careful…I wasn't and got a scalding from the beer steam. Whilst doing this, turn up the oven to 190°C or 375F. Put the ribs back in the oven and leave for another 10 to 15 minutes. This step allows the ribs to get a little browned and cook off some of the fluid in the pan.]

Eat 'em. [The ribs are done, get'em out of the oven and in your face.]

[Please note, this is a real recipe, usually using water in place of the beer…I hope to actually try cooking it at some point in the near future. As Urist travels the land, I will be levelling my cooking skill as a major story aspect, and I will hopefully be adding a recipe each chapter. Let's just hope my recipes don't leave anyone in hospital.]

Results at the end of Sessions One:

Urist

Adamight

Class:

Warrior, No Spec

Hunter, No Spec

Level:

5

5

Main Weapon:

Two Handed Axe [Starter Axe]

Gun [Starter Gun]

Skills:

Apprentice Blacksmith, Miner, Cook, First Aider.

None

Notes:

N/A

N/A