Demonstration · current generation · a recorded run

The Overseer’s office.

The survey explains the ground. This is what stands on it: a roster of miners with their own temperaments, crews formed around the seams, gossip moving through the tavern. Every one of them is simulated cognition — not scripted theatre — so the camp behaves like a place, not a diorama.

What you’re looking at is a frozen moment of a recorded run — nobody wrote the story, and nothing here is live. This page opens every room of the office: the roster and crews, the seam workings, the books and the auction yard, the request inbox, the tavern bench of would-be hires, alerts, and the camp’s achievements. The camp hired steadily, kept its books in the black, and opened a second vein to grow into. A few hands carry injuries, because mining is dangerous work: the simulation being honest, not a script being tidy. In the running camp this view ticks day by day.