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[Dame de la Licorne]

26th Slate, 216
Construction on the waterfall tower has begun.  In deference to Ast, who is becoming quite a good architect, I've moved the planned waterfall from the courtyard to the main hallway underground, so that more dwarves will be able to enjoy it.  Ast also said something about the water "cleaning the dwarves" at the same time, but I wasn't really paying attention and must have misheard.  Who ever heard of a "clean dwarf"?

[Dame de la Licorne]

18th Felsite, 216
With the pumping tower completed, Duchess Nukem has begun pumping from the bottom pump.  I had believed that power input to the bottom pump would be transferred to the upper pump, but apparently I am still too poorly trained in mechanics since no power was transferred from the lower pump to the upper.  Perhaps pumping by hand simply does not generate enough power?  I will have to try adding a windmill or waterwheel to test that theory, but in the meanwhile Duchess Nukem is pumping away quite happily, for no visible benefit.

Z-Level 0:             Z-Level +1:
   

[Kanute]

My guess is you need two gears where the water is supposed to travel up the z-level: one on z0 and one right above at z1, linking the two pumps.

I could, of course, be wrong.

[Dame de la Licorne]

I've had the same set-up in other forts where the first pump (on z-level 0) is powered by a water wheel, and the design works fine without needing gears to transfer power between pumps (the design is taken directly from the wiki).  I think the problem lies with the source of power coming from a dwarf pumping rather than machinery, I hadn't tried that case before.  I will try the gears and see if that makes a difference.

[Dame de la Licorne]

10th Hematite, 216
The human traders had arrived, and as usual Durien greeted them in the depot, watching as they unloaded their goods.
"Wait, on'y fourteen logs?  I'd asked fer three times tha' number!"
The merchant shrugged.  "Ya asked fer wood, we brung ya wood.  Ya never tol' us how much.  Ain't my fault if'n it ain't what ya wanted.  Bu' we brung ya anvils, jus' liked ya asked."
"Anvils!  ANVILS?"  Durien's roar could be heard echoing through the halls and carried all the way to Arnmod's dining room, where he was a having a bit of a snack.  "I don' bluidy need no anvils!  I want wood!  I tol' that blinkin' idjit---"
Abruptly he stopped, and the merchant took a hasty step back at the sudden gleam in the dwarf's eyes.  The nearest human mercenaries went for their weapons, but the liaison got the full impact of Durien's gaze and swallowed hard against a sudden tightness in his throat.  With false camaderie, the dwarf suggested "Why don' we take this ter my office?"  The liaison didn't have a chance to refuse as the dwarf proceeded to grab his forearm and half-dragged him towards the stairs leading deeper into the fort.  Behind them the merchants breathed a sigh of relief, perhaps they wouldn't die today, although from the looks of it the liaison might not be so lucky.

Once in the office, the dwarf closed the door and leaned back against it with his arms crossed. 
"Greetings from Gil Ocda.  What requests have you for us this year?"  The liaison spoke quickly, hoping to finish and leave before the threat in Durien's eyes became reality.
"Wha' requests?  Wha' requests!  They aren' requests anymore!"  Durien spat the words in fury.  "I bin makin' requests 'n' yer no' listenin'!  Now they're demands!  I want wood, no' bluidy useless anvils!  Yer gwing ter tell yer boss ter send th' nex' caravan wi' wood or nex' year I'll take my axe ter a tree mysel', 'n' yer'll be th' first!"  As he spoke, Durien uncrossed his arms and picked up the battle-axe by the door, stroking the haft of the weapon almost as if it were a lover as he advanced toward the petrified human.
The liaison swallowed hard and gasped "Right!  No anvils!  Only wood!  See you next year!"  And he shot to the door, barely slowing down long enough to open it, and raced through the fort as if the very demons of legend were at his heels.
Durien put the axe back in its place and went to deal with the traders, chuckling to himself.  Mebbe now th' humans'll stop bringin' those blasted anvils. He hoped.

[Dame de la Licorne]

5th Galena, 216
The back exit to our fort is now complete, although there was a tricky moment right at the end.  I've built a drawbridge into the courtyard wall, and hooked it up to a conveniently placed lever.  Incidentally, I believe I am getting quite good at this mechanism thing.  But just as I pulled the lever to close the bridge, I saw Zuglar crossing it, carrying Momuz.  I screamed at her to run, and must have prayed to every god and goddess possible in those few short seconds.  Fortunately she has become quite fast from smoothing the walls and floors and managed to dive off the bridge before it closed.  Both she and my son are fine, if a little shaken up, but she accused me of trying to kill her.  Me, kill my wonderful, beautiful wife and the son I dote upon!  How preposterous!  Fortunately no one else appears to believe her wild accusations, as I have been in charge of Scarbasement for the last fifteen years and everyone is happy with my governing so far.  Has it really been only fifteen years since we fled Olon Thasdoth?  It seems as though it has been much longer, sometimes.

[Dame de la Licorne]

20th Galena, 216
Duchess Nukem announced today that she now considers herself to be a pump operator, of all things!  Although her pumping doesn't always result in a waterfall (she has to alternate between the pumps to get any kind of water flow to the upper level of the planned waterfall), she has become quite tough from all the physical activity.  Arnmod speaks fairly highly of his sister's training, for she is also quite a skilled wrestler now, and he believes that she is just about ready to begin training with a hammer.
I am more interested in having a permanent military than a permanent pump operator, and so I'm working on plans to hook up those pumps to some sort of power source so that we will have a nice waterfall constantly running.  The only question will be whether wind or water will be better.  Ast is leaning toward wind, I'm leaning toward water, particularly since the moat is conveniently close.

[Dame de la Licorne]

13th Limestone, 216
The Kabcatten traders are back and at least they appear to know what dwarves consider useful, then again they are dwarves so I suppose that makes sense.  In any case, I relieved them of all their wood and quite a bit of steel, as well as some cheese.  Cheese is the one thing we can't make here in this place, and so it is the sole luxury that I acquire the traders.  After all, happy dwarves work faster than the alternative.  I also noticed a single rather odd hunk of stone which I acquired very cheaply. I showed it to Ablel later, and she hasn't seen it before, there wasn't any in Olon Thasdoth.  The merchants called it "pitchblende".  Although it is just another rock, it is a nice purple color that will complement our halls.  Now I just have to decide what to make with it.

[Dame de la Licorne]

26th Limestone, 216
Ablel has given birth to a son, Bomrek, or "Whip".  Bit surprising, really, as she and Litast never seem to spend any time together.  But they seem to be happy enough, and the infant will be a welcome addition to the military when he grows up.

[Dame de la Licorne]

3rd Sandstone, 216
Vucar caught another kobold thief skulking around outside our walls.  She managed to hold it off until Arnmod arrived from his duty post, but she wasn't able to kill it.  She remains the only one of the original adults with not a single attributed kill, somehow.  And for the first time in her many battles, she has come out of battle without a single injury.  She must finally be picking up some practical fighting techniques.

[Dame de la Licorne]

24th Sandstone, 216
My dearest Zuglar has given birth to our second child, whom we have named Kubuk, or "Lance".  I have great hopes for her future glory in service to our great civilization.

[Dame de la Licorne]

26th Sandstone, 216
Well, this seems to be the month for births!  Kib went into labor late last night and early this morning delivered a boy.  Following the rather rather military tradition of this year's naming, the child has been named Stukos, meaning Razor.  Our population is growing quite quickly now, it seems, even though too many dwarves are too young for much usefulness.  But we have become fairly self-sufficient and we will regain our former glory.

[Dame de la Licorne]

2nd Timber, 216
The child Datan, Kib and Kivish's second-born son, has begun acting very strangely.  Apparently he was helping his mother in the fields when he suddenly dropped the seed he was holding for her and ran off into the bowels of the fort.  He made a beeline for the craftshop in which we made our bone training bolts, which has been gathering dust for the last few years.  Along the way he gathered two hunks of rock.  Well, at least it's just rock, it's not like we have a deficit of that.  I wonder what triggered this behavior, as everyone's been fine until now, or at least no crazier than the average dwarf.

[Dame de la Licorne]

7th Timber, 216
Datan came strutting into my office as I was having a lunch of two-humped camel cheese, carrying a stone earring as if it was the most precious of metals.  He demanded I look at "Tritegrottoes", and when I just gazed at him blankly, wondering if he meant the fort, Datan pointed to the earring and said it was called "Tritegrottoes".  I trust that this isn't a subtle dig at our home, but I did look at it, although he wouldn't let me touch it.  I suppose it is a rather nice earring, worth 3600*, but Litast's poorest products are worth nearly as much so I wasn't too impressed.  What did impress me more was the detail of the work, to the extent that I believe Datan may well be considered a legendary stone crafter.  I'm sure I'll find a use for him somewhere, once he grows up.

[Kanute]

I feel creative! I'll stop if you'd prefer me to, of course: I don't know how much interactivity you wish for your Fort.


Arnmod's Journal
It hurts to move. It hurts to stand. It hurts to lie down.
If I were to write a children's book, there would be a chapter about the importance of keeping your nervous system intact in general, and your spine in specific. The rest of the book would be dedicated towards dodging arrows.

The book menaces with spikes of golden beryl in my mind. Who knows, maybe I'll write it once my siblings get old enough to guard these Tritegrottoes.

Tritegrottoes.
Datan must have overheard Them talking about the Mountainhomes. Most of what I remember, besides the perpetual nightmare following the fall, are halls of silver and... goblins. My elders grew up with the Mountainhomes in their hearts, ingrained in their beards. Surely this is what made them come through the Nightmare that followed its fall. My siblings and the other children think of these halls as their mountainhomes: I have no such anchor. Everytime I man the walls, I imagine I'm a Royal Guard, fighting for the mountainhomes. Each time I reload my crossbow, I wish it's my last bolt so I can run and crush them up close, let the whirl of the battle drown out my thoughts.

Tritegrottoes, indeed.

I'm glad I can retreat to this office. Sometimes I feel as though I'm all alone: inbetween the young generation and the old.

Well, time for my rounds!
Maybe i'll go bother Vucar a little, first.