"Quick. You lot are going tomorrow. And no need to carry your personal belongings." As you assembled, you are not even given the time to acquaint with your mates. They just pack you all, with food and supplies, that you later found out are just enough to get you to the fortress, onto a wagon. You are lucky enough to be given your tools of trade, as you reported to the organizer (and for that record keeper: you will be given enough paper and ink to continue with work, so you can just disregard that).
You are literally pushed out of your mountainhome the following day, with a pair of muskoxen. You are also luckily provided with a map to the place. It was a strange feeling with guards see you away in a sorry face, but with weapons firmly posed, gesturing to tell you never to come back.
A month later, you arrived at the point indicated on the map. It does not look like a place in need of migrants, if at all. The entrance, in various gold alloys, stands at about 30 cubits* tall, and 20 cubits wide. A dwarf, on guard outside the entrance, lead you inside.
The doorway leads to a wide corridor, which is almost a thousand paces long, until it opened into a central hall. The hall is almost fifty paces side, nearly a hundred cubits tall, and at least two hundred paces deep. A river runs through the centre of the hall, carrying a major proportion of the fortress' commerce. Shops lined the left side of the hall, selling all sorts of food and goods of all origins - dwarven or not. Housing stacks above the shops, extending many levels above the shops, linked to the river level by flights of stairs. There are line after line of benches and tables, on which - like every other fortress - many dwarves consume their food on them. You don't exactly hear industry, and they seemed to be in another part of the city.
The other side of the hall is more quiet. It is lined by a stone wall with very well engraving - a work in progress, as you see dwarves still labouring on scaffolding. Various offices opens on the lowest level, and there are several windows peeking from the wall, and some are even "considerate" enough to have a balcony for a good view of this quarter of the city.
The dwarf stopped in the middle of the hall. "Welcome to shiny fortress", he said. "You are the 2894 to 2900 immigrants as recorded. Take this," as he distributed a sack of coins to each of you, "and enjoy your hopefully long stay in the shiny fortress". He bowed to you, and marched back to the entrance, leaving you all puzzled. A few other dwarves then - pretty much forcibly - removed you from the wagon, and took it away with the pair of muskoxen.
You counted the coins, and find out each of you has 60 of them. They are, surprisingly, made of tin, and not really legal tender at least back in the mountainhomes.
You are left in this strange place, devoid of a way to get back home. So what is your next move?
*all natural units are with respect to dwarves.
Note: I'm sorry for throwing such a curveball. If you are really uncomfortable with such situation please let me know. And if I have not make that clear, you are now acting individually.
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Topic: The Shiny Fortress - For a change - All Hail Shinyism! (Turn 2) (Read 6154 times)