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Bins suck. Let's say you have a bin full of plumphelmet spawn. Now a dwarf picks a fresh spawn from the dinner table and marks that bin as "tasked", for he intends to bring spawn to it, and put it inside. And until he finishes that task ALL other items in the bin are prohibited, and your farmers will start spamming about not being able to plant spawns. You can mitigate this shit by making two stockpiles, one initial gathers spawns and has zero bins, and second one (located as close to the first as possible) is set to only take from links, linked to the first one, and has bins enabled.
i approve the sale of 3/4 of both our current stockpile and future production to these mythical "traders", scale back if new migrants require we keep more for ourselves
4. Dwarves start moving the goods to the depot. Foods and drinks are stored in barrels, and each barrel can hold quite a lot.
5. Merchants arrive at the depot and start unloading their goods. It takes some time.
6. Redlabored requests broker at the depot.
7. Trade commences.
8. After everything is said and done, the broker is no longer requested at the depot, and the dwarves start hauling goods back to the storages.
Hope it clears things up.
*rummages through elven merchandise, grabbing a pair of socks, a bunch of gloves and mittens, cherries and walnuts*
That clothing is expensive, dwarf. May I ask you what do we get in exchange?
*examines the puzzlebox with a satisfied nod*
Hello?
*picks up a cage with a lion tamarin inside*
*shrieks at Spigot*
I said--
Cana, I think we're being robbed.
Don't be foolish, child. Why would these dwarves settle so close to the Good Blossom if they don't want to establish peace and cooperation?
After all, they are but a dozen dwarves. Nobody declares war upon thousands of elves over a pair of socks.
At least one of us desperately needs clean socks.
I told you! They are seizing our goods!
"Seizing" is an unfortunate choice of words for what would more reasonably be considered a fair redistribution of wealth.
Fair redistribution of wealth? What does it even MEAN?
To each according to his needs, something-something. It's a Kommunistic fortress, you see.
You are making a grave mistake, dwarf.
I'll give you a 5% discount on booze next time you visit.
Are you MOCKING us??
Hush. We're done talking with him.
What's that supposed to mean?
*steps aside with a menacing smile* Take what you wish. I can't stop you.
DWARVES! BAUD! GET DOWN HERE AND HELP ME MOVE THIS SHIT TO THE STORAGE!
Come back soon, yadda-yadda. *walks outside*
Do you think they will spare our lives?
Probably not. Then again, they didn't seize all our possessions...
If we manage to escape this place, we must head straight to the capital. Queen Yawo will know about their transgressions!
Calm yourself, child. No crime against our kind goes unpunished. And yet it makes me wonder... I've seen deranged dwarves before. Heard stories about insane dwarven leaders. But I could never imagine dwarves being so... suicidal.
Meanwhile in Stone District.
Nobody's cutting stone blocks again, goddamn loiterers, piece of
Kommissar Grimwulf! Wait! *runs toward Grimwulf*
Are you here to cut blocks?
Umm, no?
Then why do you bugger me, Syphon?
It's Sqeecoo! I have an urgent report, Kommissar! Redlabored has a severe lack of BINS!
That's strange. I was under the impression we have a whole storage full of bins up in the Outpost.
Err, you must have been dreaming, haha. You cannot have a fortress without BINS. Ffs we have insane capitalistic luxuries like beds but we don't have simple BINS to put the fruits of the workers' labor into? BINS. They are important. BIN there, done BIN. I'm not a fan of Bin Laden, but I'm a fan of LADEN BIN!
How many do we have?
Not nearly enough.
We have more bins than barrels. And no real use for them at the moment.
*tosses a solid block of basalt* Do you think Holly will become a more competent manager if I smash her skull with this block once or twice?
I think you can simply adjust your last order list! That should do the trick.
Hm. It's already demanding even by my standards. How many bins do you think we need?
A LOT OF BINS! And we should make it a top priority, the very existence of Angèrith depends on BINS!
Hrmpf. I guess Kalin can wait for his beds, shields and training weapons... And we don't really need cups or barrels. Furniture for Kommunalka can go to hell too. *scribbles a new list of orders*
*grumbles* It doesn't look right somehow...
*snatches the order list from Grimwulf's hand* I'll pass it to Helly myself, Kommissar! Have a good one! *runs off*
19th Granite, 126, Early Spring
Redlabored's administrators seem to lack ideological conviction. Pretty sure I am the only real Kommunist around here, and I alone possess the knowledge and understanding of Redlabored's needs. Right now it needs BINS!
My plans are finally coming to fruition. I have made many friends among my fellow dwarves due to my friendly demeanor, and through seemingly no influence from me I've gained the crucial bookeeper post.
Resource availability and needs set the overall agenda of the whole fort, and a skillful manipulator can use the presentation of the numbers to arrange openings in influential positions for his friends, and punish his uncooperating dwarves with undesirable hard labor. The tricky bit is managing to get the desired reaction from Grimwulf, who is as likely to respond to me presenting a shortage of a resource by focusing everything on that or by ignoring it completely. However, I have spent enough time in his company to hopefully succeed in making him believe my ideas are his own.
Thus, I am now the de facto ruler of Redlabored. I am...
General Secretary Sqeecoo!
24th Granite, 126, Early Spring
Redlabored, Barracks
Who's your DADDY??
Y-you are.
I am your BROTHER! Brother Frank!
Okay?
WHO'S YOUR DADDY??
I don't know! Cerol Moruluvar?
*swings her training axe at Storyfag*
*makes a pathetic attempt of dodging* OW! Stop it! I need a break!
WHO'S YOUR DADDY?!
Kommander Kalin!
DAS RIT-- nu, wait, DAS GAY!
Eeeehehehehe!!
*barks*
Oi! No DAGS in muh BURRUCKS!
My dog is sexually attracted to Merc. You can beat Storyfag all you want, but you can't stop TRUE LOVE!
Bitch, I know TRU LUV, ok? Dorf fuckin' puppy ain't no--
Datan is no longer a puppy. She is of legal age now, RIPE for poppin'!
Rite, err-- Wo?
TRUE LOVE!
12th Slate, 126, Mid-Spring
The Outpost, Dining Room
Enjoying your drinks, komrades?
Just chillin', Hel. Another day in Redlabored, another day of hard work.
*swears under his breath incoherently*
You are the only dwarves not working right now.
I'll start workin' AS SOON AS YOU GIVE ME SOME SPACE, you fucking elephant! I can't even move the barrels I, uh, ATTEMPTED to trade back to the storage! BECAUSE THERE IS NO STORAGE, damn you!
Mah still is so full of barrels, I CAN'T FIND THE ACTUAL STILL!
Patience, my friend. Very soon we shall dig out the Food District, and store all your barrels there.
JUST DIE! But before you do that, how's your progress on the Food District?
Any day now.
You haven't even started yet, eh?
*enters the dining room* Hommm, good day.
Ah, if it isn't my BEST carpenter!
I feel mildly offended right now.
Grimwulf is still pissed about me quitting the mason's job. He says we are doing fuck-all, while nobody is hauling boulders or working at the masonries.
Trust me to sort out the priorities, Friend. I wasn't elected as the Kaptain of Kutting Kultists just because of good looks, A HAR HAR HAR HAR, hahahaha, ahhhh.
*grunts* No doubt about that.
Meanwhile in Kommissar's Quarters construction site
*focused on constructing the walls*
*approach Sukhavati*
Routine medical check! Any complaints?
No.
That didn't sound sincere to me.
What do you think, Reinhardt?
My rear hurts so much. And the mask smells revolting.
I was asking abo-- Agh, nevermind.
If that is all, doctor, I am in the middle of some... constructions.
Why are you working on Grimwulf's mansion?
*shrugs* Helly assigned me and Wayward Son to "work on the Wood District," whatever that means. Said it's my "full job" now.
I thought it wasn't even dug out yet.
My point exactly.
Did you talk to Wayward Son? As Helly's husband, I am sure he can understand her better.
I did.
What did he say?
"Tarrying momentum is an allotment of the cause"
That explains... nothing. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm starting to miss Kalin the manager.
It feels like Kalin is always near me. Can smell him. Literally.
Things would be different if more komrades were willing to vote.
Don't drag me into your politics, doctor. I don't have time for this.
*looks around* Seems to me like you have all the time in the world now.
Kommissar's Quarters is our top priority, as I remember. Thus I am doing the most important job at the moment. Supposedly.
Tell me, why are we failing so badly?
Isn't that obvious?
16th Slate, 126, Mid-Spring
The Outpost, Hospital
HHHRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAA!!!
Stop SCREAMING for a moment, Helly!
Something's terribly wrong with her, doctor!
Aren't you a talented diagnostician, Reinhardt!
HHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRNGGGG
She is in great pain!
Brilliant. Go on.
Well...
Differential diagnosis. Come on! Throw some ideas, for Shoduk's sake!
Maybe she has a candle stuck inside?
Let me check on her medical history... Hmm...
Helly, remember when I brought you to bed back in Malachite? Did I, uh--
AAAAAARRRRR, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME, AZIRA?!
You tell me.
NO, YOU! TELL! MEE!!!
*storms his ways inside* BEGROOMED ONE!
*holds a candle in one hand and Kalin's sock in the other* Truth be told, I am at loss here. We'll have to improvise.
TH-THAT'S PESTIFEROUS!!
Helly, I need you to bend over. I am about to stick a-- oh. Oh, my.
What is it, doctor?
I don't think we can stick anything in Helly today. I would even say... It's quite the opposite.
If anyone here has earplugs, now it's time to use them.
*lets out a thundering scream that could be heard miles away*
Ho-ly shiet.
I... I... I am begetter now?
*smiles faintly* Yes, Wayward Son. You are a father.
Mabama!
Awwwww
*everyone rushes inside*
What was that SCREAM?
Wh-- A BABEH!
Duuuuuuude, look at the adorable bastard!
H-he is so HUGE!
Yet another hellspawn in Redlabored!
Congratulations, Wayward Son!
Yes, but can he BITE?!
He can be my best friend!
*smiles*
*smiles with a trace of sadness*
*rolls eyes*
*bursts in tears* I want to have a little Mustawd so bad.
*shudders*
You might be pregnant right now, Reinhardt. Who knows? *mumbles* A dwarven body is a mystery.
Everyone, meet Melbil. Melbil Helmmouth.
Dis place is becumin' a Heavan for pedos.
Ar u thretenin' me, boy-o?
DUNCHA MESS WID KALIN!
Why is he not working?
He's a tad too young for that, my dear Kommissar. Maybe in 12 years?
Why are YOU not working, Helly? WHY ISN'T EVERYBODY WORKING, GODDAMIT?!
Come on, Kommissar! At least give him something to drink!
Pick your poison, little demon.
Longland? Oat beer? Rum? Or are ya gonna drink WINE like a damn pussy?
*burps*
RUM it is! *power-walks to the still*
*cries*
Melbil...
The game crashed the day Melbil was born. And it crashed hard. Had to reboot the system.
Fortunately, I had a backup from just a few in-game days before that. I make backups before launching Stonesense plugin (it often crashes the game as well).
But still. This child is truly Son of Hell.
23rd Slate, 126, Mid-Spring
The Surface
Hey, M!
Baud.
Enjoying a day-off?
More like a month-off. This whole Prolebashers idea is a joke.
I dunno, serving in militia was kinda fun.
Unless your leader is Kalin. Then it's simply humiliating. So. What's new?
Look over there.
Hrmph. Badger boars.
So what?
Showed up here a week ago. Too close for my liking.
Are you afraid of goddamn badger boars?
Bro, I don't carry a cool weapon like you military dudes!
Cool weapon? Oh, you gotta be shitting me! And what is THIS anyway?!
It's a table I'm working on. Cool, huh?
Or was it a bed? Wait... Agh, I forgot again. Need a drink. Care to join me, bro?
*shrugs* Suit yourself. Later, M!
What the ffff--
1st Felsite, 126, Late Spring
The Surface
Ye kalled?
*points his finger to the north*
Wh-- Farkin' hell.
Brace your men, Kalin. Tell them an army is approaching.
Ya krazy? Dis is a suicide missun!
No. This is the Last Stand.
*both look in the distance*
I dun't see any wepuns.
Wait... It's not an army.
Yet another update cut short. Sorry, men - this Spring is busy. KEY CHOICES will have to wait again.
The problem here is not the migrants, but the sheer number of them. We had 19 citizens, including Helly's newborn son. Now it's 57. FIFTY SEVEN!
38 migrants, almost half of them are children. This is a mess. I need some time to examine the new arrivals, assign them to everyone, make some new avatars, etc. On the positive side, EVERYONE in the Red List is now recruited!
excellent, more dwarfpeople to defend our fort from any deer or elf who might possibly attack us because of some imaginary slight. which is to say, for no reason at all.
what is my lion tamarin doing? can I train it to be my successor?
GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, SPIGOT - WHAT AILS YOU?! What kind of MINDRAPING DEMON could possibly POSSES YOUR DRUNKEN MIND when you thought that seizing a FUCKING TAMARIN - A TAMARIN - as in, A MONKEY - was a GOOD idea?! Do you even realize WE MIGHT GET RAPED IN THE MOST HUMILIATING WAY over a TAMARIN?!
WHY??
A tamarin is A FUCKING VERMIN, Spigot - both in RL and in DF! VEEEEERMIN! IT HAS NO USE! It cannot EVEN BE BUTCHERED! Why in FUCKING HELLS do you need A VERMIN?!
It's in the cage at the moment, and I have NO GODDAMN CLUE what to do with it, apart from STUFFING YOUR WORTHLESS ASS WITH ITS FFFFFFFFUCKING CORPSE! FUCK!
all rats are vermin, but not all vermin are rats. let's not paint with broad strokes here. if it can't be trained to be the next great master brewer then it can be kept as our fort mascot, keep dwarf spirits up.
Can the babeh be, uhm, the dwarven antichrist, as adorable and cute as it is? As in, a Grimdeer spawn borne by Helly? Think of all the biblical innuendos that would ensue!
I shall ask Merc to take some time off training to make him the best crib ever created for a dwarf!
And as he grow older, I shall teach him the fighting ways on my ancesters! What they called the Scottish Martial Arts! Their greatest master he shall become!
Can the babeh be, uhm, the dwarven antichrist, as adorable and cute as it is? As in, a Grimdeer spawn borne by Helly? Think of all the biblical innuendos that would ensue!
Orekh-kin: What are we doing in this colony again? Their whole business is smaller than my balls.
So Byakhee: Not to worry! Not to worry! I'm sure we can fix it with some infrastructural development. It just so happens that a project have just popped into my mind.
I finally caught up to everyone! I have no idea how stalking works, I thought I'd receive a notification whenever Grimwulf posted, but if I did I couldn't find it. By the time I stumbled across this it was already 10 pages :D.
I'd like in, before the elves come to rape us in our sleep.
I'd like to be either martial or a laborer (miner or builder). With a snazzy grey dress uniform, of course.