Sunday, March 16, 2014

Datanerith Entry 8: Spring

I've been making some efforts to expand the fort's operations.

In the Agricultural Quarter, my sexy new name for the Food Level, I've finally got a decent kitchen, butchery, and brewery up and running. I have a new farm running, full of cave wheat so I can start making flour and beer. Still no quern yet, but I do have a pretty decent sized pantry filled with meat, eggs, prepared meals, and some of that cheese I bought from Katolvutok. Best yet, adjacent to my food stockpile, I've built a grand new dining room.

Not pictured: the weird dwarf eating lunch by himself.

I built a new wing, lower than any of the others and far away from where sleeping dwarves lie, dedicated entirely to workstations and labor. The Industrial Quarter is equal parts factory and warehouse; it's where I keep my stockpiles of raw materials (like wood and stone) as well as finished goods and furniture. It's designed in such a way to maximize efficiency, so my dwarves don't have to walk too far to go from material to workstation to finished products. I don't quite have the skilled labor needed for all the industry I want - blacksmiths, for example - but there's room for growth.

I hate perfect symmetry, by the way. Here's hoping nobody reading this has bad OCD. You're gonna go fucking nuts.

Minkot, the jeweler, emotional as always, fell into different mood: like Tirist, she took over a workshop and threw herself into her work. Like Tirist, she had everything she needed to craft her artifact. Unlike Tirist, however, her artifact is, like, super retarded. Lo, "Raspedink the Killer of Threatening," a bed made entirely out of semiprecious stone and camel bone:

Note how the bed has fucking spikes made out of gemstone. I don't see her volunteering to sleep in it.

To keep track of all these changes, I needed my ledger straight. Since my last clerk went and got himself killed by an Alligator, I had to find a dwarf with some relevant skills. One of my recent dwarf migrants, Asmel, had zero skills in any kind of actual labor... but he was an adequate record keeper. He was also skilled at flattery and lying, apparently. I converted the old dining room into an office and told Asmel to take the books in there for the rest of the year and get this place organized.

Oh, wait, there's the weird dwarf eating by himself.

Then the dingos came back. This time, on the wrong side of the river.

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