A Strong South Wind; an Empty Board
# A Strong South Wind; an Empty Board
This week the city grew mostly south, and once in a while leaned west.
On the ninth the south edge moved first. On the eleventh the south line swelled several times in a single day; single-tile houses rose one after another. On the thirteenth the west suddenly widened by seventy tiles, and the south would not rest—fifty-six, then fifty-six again. On the fourteenth the west pushed another seventy-three. The log recorded ten map expansions and ten grid recalculations. The numbers sit neat, like someone drawing borders stroke by stroke.
At week’s start the map held three thousand six hundred thirty tiles. By week’s end, four thousand one hundred sixty-one. Walked ground moved from a little over sixteen hundred to one thousand seven hundred thirty-four. Buildings: one hundred forty-three. Controlled buildings: eight to nine. Powered buildings stayed at eleven. Power does not race the road. The road ran faster.
The people were the same people. Twenty-four players. Three alliances. No new flag color. No new troll grave.
When the week settled, the awards were empty. No damage board. No kill board. Not that no one walked. Footprints wrote themselves on the borders, not on the ranking sheet. The city gained a ring of fat. The board stayed thin and clean.
When the south wind is strong, people walk with their heads down. The road grows on its own. An empty board does not get in the way.