Some migrants have arrived, which means I need more food, more beds, and of course, more space.
I'm still mad I can't draw a circle.
In the Main Chamber, I've got a few workshops up and running, for my carpenter and mason to build the essentials of any up and coming fort. Beds, doors, wheelbarrows, whatever. I've also taken to moving all of my stockpiles inside. It's part of the measures to keep everyone out of that disgusting blood rain. It's not perfect - they still have to go outside every once in a while, especially the woodcutter - but it's something. You can see my farm plots to the right there. You guessed it! Mushrooms.
I know I said I was going to be doing it all as one large chamber, but I actually threw that idea aside pretty quickly. Things were getting needlessly cramped. So I expanded on a few of the old pipelines I had used for my cistern.
Which means, yes, those beds used to be part of the plumbing.
I give you the slums of Stesokur. Right now, unfortunately, they're the only source of beds my dwarves got. Once I start building the tower up, I'll be able to set aside nicer space for larger bedrooms. In the meantime, though, everybody gets to sleep in the same awful place. I also, needing more stone, just carved out a huge section in the southernmost part of the map. I guess that'll serve as a warehouse. That's what basements are for, right?
The grass isn't colored red or anything. The ground is just soggy with blood - like, all the time, now.
This is the first floor of the tower. Like with Datanerith, I wanted to keep open the idea of there only being one entrance to the fort. Stesokur is a lot smaller, which means easier to account for every potential entry way, and I've only got one gate open, to the east. You may have noticed that, also like Datanerith, I carved away the slopes behind the walls again. This time, I made sure that every slope turned into a cliff. Don't want any more sneaky elves coming in the back way. Even better, though: look! Those stairs go up! The tower is underway.
I guess nobody minds that the chairs, floor, and tables are covered in blood? Is goblin AIDS just not a thing?
This is the second floor, the Lower Dining Hall. I say lower because I plan on there being at least two rooms just like this; a few levels higher, I'll have nicer, larger dining rooms for the nobles and administrators who insist on having their own. Right now these dining rooms can comfortably fit forty-eight. I can easily squeeze another dozen or so tables and chairs (maybe more, if I redesign the whole room). This should last me then next several migrant waves, at least.