The Travellers had made their camp maybe six kilometers from the arachnid-area, so after a short flight, Lenore and I were able to get there. What we saw made both of us pause in confusion, as Lenore circled above the area. For some reason, things had changed in the few days we had been away, the excellent concealment gone. Or rather, partially gone.

In one of the smaller valleys, clearly visible to the naked eye, were numerous spider-webs woven into strange, interconnected structures. It looked very much like something out of a horror-movie, with countless small spiders skittering around. But not a single of the large, human-faced arachnids in sight.

While circling above, Lenore focused her eyes, to get a look at the magic, sharing her perception with me, and what we saw made me very glad that it wasn’t me controlling our movement. If it was, I might have fallen out of the sky from laughter when I realised what was going on.

The concealment was still there, still going strong, even covering the area they had made visible. Unless I was completely wrong, they had set up a trap, creating an obvious area that was defended but not overly so, making it look like that was their target. But around the target, still cloaked behind the magic that Lenore and I could only circumvent thanks to combining our efforts and her special sight, was the rest of their lair, a parlor that just waited for a few fat and stupid flies to wander into it. It was truly a thing of beauty.

After making sure that the tree we landed in was free from their weaving, whether magical or mundane, Lenore landed and we continued our study of their magic. The beauty of their work made me want to meet the weavers, their craftsmanship making me envious. Maybe, if I asked nicely, they would let me study some of their work-in-progress, not just spying on their finished product.

Just the idea made me chuckle to myself, to wander into their village, as they prepared to get assaulted by other humanoids and ask them to teach me their magic. Somehow, I doubted that it would go well, but maybe after they dealt with their attackers, if I arrived bearing gifts or something along those lines. Maybe a gift of information regarding Travellers and their attackers, not that I could actually tell them much about that particular group, not unless I wanted to turn into a complete hypocrite and do what I had condemned Harms for, use Forum-Information to my advantage. It might be an option worth pursuing.

For a few hours, Lenore and I lost ourselves in the study of their magical weaving, slowly comprehending what the various formations did and how they worked. The more I understood, the more I wanted a hat, just so I could take it off. It was a meticulous weave, numerous small formations all forming into a greater picture, countless threads that all formed a powerful web. I felt my heart sing, as my mind was studying the patterns, overlapping, never conflicting, pulling in the same direction.

I couldn’t find a single part that I would deem offensive, designed to deal damage, but the more I studied, the more I realised there really was no need. It was a weave of misdirection, of concealment and obfuscation, designed to confuse and confound, trapping the mind while guiding the body into physical weaves of spider silk. In some ways, it was the perfect antithesis to Olivia and her Faith, a magical trap purely to take away someone’s freedom. Truly, a Spider’s Web.

“We should head back to the Traveller-camp.” Lenore told me, bringing me out of my reverent trance, reminding me that we were here for a reason. And that we didn’t want to get caught by the spiders, that would likely be bad.

While Lenore flew back, I took the time to get back into the real world to fulfill the needs of my biological body. It was annoying but the alternative, namely an IV-bag or maybe a catheter, was so unpleasant that I didn’t even want to consider them.

After hurrying through a shower and chomping down some simple food, I was back in Mundus, in time for the final approach to the Travellers’ camp. Lenore had obviously taken her time, so that I could do my thing, something I was grateful for. That I had missed the arachnid-spy last night had been bad enough, I didn’t want my partner to be on her own in a potentially dangerous situation. If only because I could, if needed, be a distraction that gave her time to get away while I could simply return, after failing to get away. The wonderful tactical options that the ability to respawn gave you.

But I had no desire to get sent to respawn, so I was glad that, at least from a distance, the Travellers’ camp appeared to be in barely ordered chaos, with a lot more people bustling around than there had been when we had left in the morning.

At second glance, taken from one of the nearby trees, the rest of their raid-group had arrived and were settling in. It wasn’t an overly large group, at least when considering that it was essentially a military action, but memories of Craft of War and the effort to get even a small group of gamers to move in the same direction, hopefully at the same time and if possible at the same speed, surfaced and I was quite impressed by their efforts. They were far from the organised efficiency of Dura Firebringer and her Orcs, or the centaurs we had terrorised near the Windswept Plains, but they did okay. Their camp wasn’t on fire, that had to count for something.

It made me wonder, how long would it take for the average gaming-group to adapt, how would raids later, once the game had been released for a year or five, look. Once the gaming-community had adapted to the world of Mundus and its unique circumstances, would the barely organised chaos give way to military efficiency? I had seen some videos of Tobiuno and his people, they had some of that efficiency down already, but would everyone follow suit? With a game like Road to Purgatory and a world like Mundus, how far would expectations shift? Would people see it like a second life, with a second job and take it as seriously as their life and job outside? At times, it seemed to be necessary, with the amount of involvement needed to keep up with the world of Mundus and its inhabitants. But would that still be a game? It made me wonder, and worry. Because, if only those who made Mundus their life could thrive, the Road to Purgatory would be cut short as Pantheon Entertainment was forced to sacrifice that Road on the altar of capitalism. Just another wonderful game, dead due to lack of money.

Sadly, the increased number of people made spying on them both a lot easier and a lot harder, at the same time. Easier, because the chaos meant that it was harder for them to keep efficient watch, with the hustle and bustle going on, harder because there were more people that might look up and notice that a certain Raven looked like it was a lot more than it would seem at first glance.

As long as we kept to the trees around the clearing, maybe one or two trees back, always wary of magical wards and traps, we thought we would be fine, but it limited us to listening to the rank and file on the edge of the camp, not the core around the middle, where I could see the scouting-party that Lenore and I had seen on the road and earlier in the day.

Curious, we used our concealed Observe to take a peek at some of the Travellers on the edges, just a short glance before relocating, just in case someone got spooked. The levels we observed weren’t anything to write home about, people between level fifty and seventy, but for Travellers, it wasn’t actually bad. For a group like that, to establish themselves during the beta with limited entries, it hinted at a larger organisation in the background. Maybe one of the gaming-clubs, who were trying to get an idea how the vastly different and new technology would impact their business. Would they be akin to buggy-whip makers at the beginning of the industrial revolution or more like telecommunication-companies right before the advent of the internet?

Not that it really mattered to me, I was done with the world of competitive gaming. In the beginning, when I had started to play Road to Purgatory, there had been a certain drive to show them all that no matter how much more marketable Acrasia was, I was superior to her in every way that should count. But now, after spending time in Mundus and with Sigmir, I had just stopped to care. I wanted to show people this world of Mundus, the wonderful magic I could invoke and, even more important than that, I wanted to understand the magic, to master its weave and travel the Astral, just to see how far I could go. That seemed much more interesting than to compete with some jumped-up model and her hot-tub.