Snapshot of the Admiralty lair.
Out of view: A table full of bags of sorted Tjublings by @tjub and other cast miniatures, including Dwarves of the Dark Bell Tower sculpted by @Fuggit_Khan . On the floor and under this table there are paper bags and boxes and boxes filled with cast stock, purchased miniatures and projects in fallow. And boxes filled with non-hobby things, most of them marked and registered in a notebook.
If you stack the boxes you can build narrow walkways. And if you secure wall-mounted wooden box shelves high up on a wall you can fill them and then you can stack things on top of the box shelves up to the roof.
My home is characterized by tight walkways and stacked boxes forming canyons. Go vertical! Like the big hats of Mingol Zharr-Naggrund the Great herself.
And just like the fanatical and industrial city ziggurat of the Dawi Zharr, it is all a production line organized and geared for output, lubricated by thrall sweat and slave blood. Obviously, slaves will eat where they work, for the sake of efficiency by watching lectures and documentaries while eating. All commonly used tools are within easy reach, including a plastic bag of stamps, tape and postal paraphernalia to the left. And akin to the heart of a dark empire, it is the nervecentre for all digital correspondence, customer orders and postal mails sent out and received from across the world. Complete with archives of pictures, PDFs and text files stored on both the computer, a separate harddrive and cloud storage.
Behold the postal scales and the secondary workplace to the right. My brother has prime of place whenever he visits for a hobby workshop, whereupon I move to the smaller workspace on the corner. You can clearly tell who is the master and who is the slave from the above information.
This is a mad Daemonsmith’s lair, where unspeakable creations have come to horrid life.
This is a forge where wild ideas are beaten into writings, drawings, paintings, conversions and sculpts, baleful beyond belief.
This is it.
This is where my life’s work happen:
It is the third millennium, and there is only toil.