Dward Fortress is the next one: The game is as daunting as anything I can imagine, with a text-only display that makes my head hurt just thinking about it. This quote, from Three Panel Soul makes me laugh, a lot:
Quote by TPS:Even with two butcher shops going full-tilt, I can barely put a dent in the stray population. However, each butchery triggers one of my tanners to go to work. One top of that, I've had to build new shops and train new bonecrafters, chefs and leatherworkers just to keep my storehouses of raw materials from overflowing. It's reached the point where my entire dwarven economy is based around the slaughter of helpless kittens, which is a rather spectacular way for a civilization to decline.
That last line just slays me. An economy based on breeding and utilizing cats is a very, very spectacular way for a civilization to decline.
Dwarf Fortress, a game with basically no plot, practically demands its player write stories about it. One particularly interesting thing I read was a single game, run between many players. Each player controlled the fortress for one in-game year, and wrote about what happened.
The last ruler ordered a 300-foot-long gecko to be built as a decoration. While it's rather pretty, i ordered the construction to be suspended, on the threat of bashing their heads in.
The indefinitely burning enchanted puppy outside the gate turned out NOT to be a hallucination. Smells awful. I'm considering flooding the valley to put it out.
"Megor Grendel" tried to extract the flaming puppy, but caught fire and died instead! By the gods, WHY?!
The elves traded their wagon of cloth for a few of the many slightly-burnt weapons laying around the gate. I think the piles of yellowing bones and the still-smoldering Grendel put them off a bit.
The miner's guild representative wanted to pick up some clothes and now he runs around on fire.
That all this stuff happens in the game just astounds me.