The last few months have been pretty quiet. Pump construction has been going on as usual (although a bit slower than I'd like), and I've been giving orders to make some minor adjustments to the surroundings. In order to fuel our massive pump stack, I've created an outdoor water generator, but due to the severe lack of wood, I've been unable to make so much as half a waterwheel. Checking on our woodcutters, I see that two of them are happily chopping away at underground bloodthorns, but where is all the wood going?
Searching up and down the fort (much harder than one would expect, considering the sheer size of it), I finally spot the problem and immediately order all construction of bins and barrels to halt.
Now with that out of the way, our wood stockpiles should be getting nice and full for our future waterwheel powersources.
While digging out the waterpool for our waterwheels, i notice that an unusually large amount of blood has conjugated on the surrounding walls.
I'll be sure to put the "construct public baths task on my to-do list.
So one day, when I wasn't really doing much and just going around collecting horse bone arrows (I do have quite the collection)
I see a beard... no wait, make that several dozen beards popping out from the horizon heading straight for our fort.
Behold! It appears that we have encountered...
A migrant wave!
Thus boosting our lowly population of ~70 into the triple digit figures of lovely overcrowded fortresslife.
Scanning through the line of dwarves, I see...
weavers, tanners, gemcrafters, peasants, a bunch of useless beggar hobodwarves and...
.....
...
.....
LO BEHOLD!
A MECHANIC!
PRAISE THE GOD'S FOR WE HAVE STRUCK A MECHANIC!
WHOOOOO!HAHARHR@#%!@%^*$!@*eerily incomprehensible laughter*$!%^&*!$^!&&&^&%^#%
whew.
I shall soon begin my spirit transfer incantation so as to properly prepare my host dwarf for the shock he shall receive when I forcefully rip his soul out in replacement of mine.
I'm also gonna need more beds soon.
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Passage in my diary:
Throughout these days, I’ve had a dwarf who goes by the name of Darish look at me in a rather quizzical and perhaps even downcast manner. Whenever I turned to look at him, he’d just walk the other way, but I’m pretty sure that he had something in his dwarfy mind. Today, when I ordered two tons of iron to be brought to the smelters to fuel our pipe section constructions, I saw what was unmistakably a facepalm made by that mysterious dwarf. When I turned around, he started walking away, but I grabbed him by the neck of his cave spider silk cloak and spun him around.
“Is something wrong?”
“Eh, well um sir… there is an um… you know… about the pipe sections…um…”
“Just spit it out”
“We’ve already got a warehouse full of nickel just for these pipes.”
Flipping to page 445 on my book of Metalsmithing for idiots, I see that Nickle is an
“uncommon, low-value, magma-safe metal used mainly for the creation of nickel silver (note that nickel silver is no longer magma-safe, as it was in previous dwarven eons). It can also be used to create some objects, although it’s uses are limited as no weapons can be made”
So that’s why he always looked at me in such a funny way.
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Well nothing much more to say for now. Just gonna maintain my reign until the end of the year.
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Topic: The New Eternal Halls Thread: Who's turn is it? Answer me, maggot! (Read 38677 times)