Storytelling is as old as humankind itself. It is the way we have passed our oldest myths, traditions, laws and knowledge in general. It is a tool, a means of entertainment, lesson and warning. In wrong hands, it can birth obfuscation, in the right hands, it can help guide humans to new advances.
Chances are, if you play games and somehow find yourself staring at this title, you enjoy storytelling in games. As Friedrich Engels said, humans have free will to do as they please, but what they please to do is limited by their material reality. Thus we both posses free will and yet are determined towards a limited selection of actions. Few things bind this apparent dialectical contradiction as well as video games, in which, despite being always presented with a set universe of 1's and 0's, from the simplest railroad shooters to most elaborate narrative experiences, rarely do two people come away from a game having experienced the exact same story, the exact same plot, the exact same emotions.
I play games like Mount&Blade, Total War titles, Rimworld, Noita, Caves of Qud, Terraria, Minecraft - games where, whether plot exists or not, the main bulk of the story comes from your interaction with the world and how you treat the reality around you. This, to me, is the fundamental building block of a great story experience. A story which is told by you, yourself, to yourself.
Dwarf Fortress starts with you generating a world. Already, hundreds of thousands of events litter the history of that island you will soon embark on. Some people forgo launching the actual game itself and limit themselves to the Legends mode, which allows them to explore the events as they exist, with no prior player interference. Theodor Adorno once compared his approach to philosophy to that of putting together a constellation from different stars. Instead of inventing new, he took what he already knew and found new combinations, new mixes for it, thus giving rise to a rediscovery of ideas and advances in philosophical thought. The same is offered by Dwarf Fortress, where one can read the legends of the world and conclude that a world was either characterised by intrigues and theft of artefacts, murderous rampages of epic beasts or slow and horrific wars which cost entire civilizations their lives.
When one plays Dwarf Fortress, one gets to experience the depth of it's largely text-based system of exposition of events happening, now combined with a far more advanced interface, mouse support and user-friendly graphics. It combines the depth of the most pain-stakingly detailed rogue-like games of yore with polish and attention to minute mundane things that arise from 16 years of dedicated hard work.
Just as Marx said, men are not free to choose how they live, for it is largely dependent on the historical circumstances they find themselves in. Similiarly, your entire preparation - from what you bring, to who you bring with what skills, and ending with the destination of your embark, will largely sway your chances of success. From most mirthful steppes, serene marshes and plains ripe with plants to horrificaly haunted woodlands, freezing glaciers and scorching deserts, nothing is impossible - but some things are harder than they may appear at a glance. The story, for what's it's worth, begins before you even know WHERE you will be striking the earth. It begins with the very selection of your inventory. You can't prepare for everything, so you'll have to get crafty. Dwarf Fortress is not a hard game, but it can be unforgiving.
Hegel once said, rather poetically, that the Owl of Minerva flies only at dusk. When your fort reaches it's demise, whether at hands of a natural disaster, an invasion, a bestial attack, or a horrible mining accident, it's always easy to feel anger at not having spotted the warning signs sooner. But you must keep in mind that, as the game itself reminds you every time you open it,
Losing is Fun.