My first encounter with Dwarf Fortress was not a very positive one. After downloading and installing the Mac version of the game, I soon found that I couldn’t quit the game. I looked online and found that many users had the same problem. Posts with headings like “I can’t quit Dwarf Fortress, even if I try” detailed the same glitch, but they also gave me a bad feeling about what I was getting myself into. I finally fixed that issue and tried to download a graphics pack. It didn’t work. I tried another one. It didn’t work. Then, I found that DF wouldn’t work any longer. I’m not sure if it has something to do with my computer’s age (it’s an iMac from 2010) or what, but I was frustrated before I began playing. I uninstalled DF and reinstalled it and finally got to work (added bonus–on the second instal, the “abort game” option worked–yay!), and then I dug in. It only got worse from there. I came to class Thursday more frustrated thank I knew how to explain and feeling completely incompetent.

I have to say, though some of the successes discussed in class reinforced those feelings of incompetence, others’ frustrations and creative alternative game play strategies made me feel better. Today, I approached Dwarf Fortress again and I tried very hard to have an open mind. I tried downloading a few more graphics packs without luck, but I figured I could make this ASCII stuff work, and I decided to try “adventure mode.” I have to say, it did at least go better–at first. The beginning was probably the most fun–I got to name my Dwarf, HannahBadger, and level up her abilities, choose her weapons, etc. She’s tough, a good reader, a swimmer and climber, and she carries an axe. Then, I started the game play.

I spent about fifteen minutes trying to talk to a pair of coffins before I realized they weren’t people. I also shouted to the Dwarf Deity, but my calls must have fallen on deaf ears, because I heard nothing back. But eventually, I re-checked the guide and realized my mistake. I decided to try to find someone to talk to so that I could start an adventure. Eventually, I did. He had a strange name that I can’t remember, but he told me about some monster that killed his daughter, and I asked him to join up with me. So we walked along, came across a fish cleaner with some more tales of woe, but he didn’t know where to find the monster (or the human vampire) that we were looking for. He suggested that some human fellow did, but when I asked him more about this fellow, he said he didn’t know anything about him. Then he declined to join up with us.

We were wandering around for a while, and then I decided to descend some stairs because, hey, after about an hour of walking around, we were no closer to finding any monster or any human fellow who might know about the monster. I spent about ten minutes trying to figure out how to get down the stairs and when I finally got down there, I was pretty excited. Oh, if only I’d known what a bad move that had been!

Once down there, I immediately found a room full of leather goods. Awesome! I picked up almost everything–apparently my back pack can hold a LOT of stuff! I was excited, so I tried another door. Another room of free leather swag! And then another. And then another. And then my travel companion started to get cross. The yellow exclamation point popped up a lot. Tantrum. Was I moving too fast for him? Maybe he was hungry? I gave him some Dingo brains–another mistake–and some water. Then, yet again, more and more narrow passages with rooms of leather goods in them. No monsters. No human fellow. More yellow exclamation points from my partner, but every time I asked how he was doing, he said he was just peachy, so how was I to know what was going on? Then, the exclamation point turned teal, which I think means he was going crazy, and eventually, I lost him. I spent about an hour wandering around, opening doors. Dead ends, more rooms of crap (none of which was food–and I tried to eat a leather boot and licked it and it didn’t help matters). When HannahBadger was too tired to do anything else, I let her sleep–but then, the map disappeared! I couldn’t see which rooms I’d opened any more! I tried strategies, keeping to the outer edge, etc., but eventually, HannahBadger ate her last Dingo brain alone (yeah, I never did really run into my former travel companion again…) and I stopped the game so I wouldn’t have to see her starve.

 

I’m really not sure what I’m supposed to get out of this sad story, but I can give fellow DF players some advice, I guess. Hoard your Dingo brains and water. And, for goodness sake, if you climb down some stairs (which you do with this button: >), do NOT let them out of your sight.

 

There were no monsters, few people, and really not much of an adventure. But hey, at least this run, I basically understood most of what was going on. Progress?