4.3

Lena

*** *** ***

No patterns match search criteria.

*** *** ***

If Lena had a head to bash into walls, she would be carving tunnels right now. "What do I fruiting need to get a blossoming body?!" she screamed. Concern for her friends had her screaming in her private level and not throughout the entire Studio.

*** *** ***

The pattern for a Zone Arbiter's physical state must be capable of manipulating all states of mana, and be independently mobile.

*** *** ***

Lena took a few moments to calm herself. She had hoped that with the patterns acquired from Priesley's Folly she would finally be able to create a physical body for herself. Obviously, that hadn't worked out.

Well, she could still see what might have changed and what insights she could glean from that.

«List all patterns capable of manipulating all states of mana.»

*** *** ***

Computer Golem: Zone Core

*** *** ***

No change, then.

Candy and Aaron were still sleeping, exhausted from helping her gain and stay in control of all the spawning creatures. The diversity of patterns available to her now meant that she no longer looked at her full lists; they were too overwhelmingly long. No, she was getting very familiar with her search menu.

She had a feeling that Aaron was going to cry if she took away his ability to examine and categorize the patterns for living things. Candy had taken to the materials side of things, especially interested in their conductive and insulating properties. Maybe she could get Rob and Jason to help with categorizing the mechanical properties? Tensile strength and, what was it? Springiness or something?

*~*~*

Brad

Sitting on Casper Dibbons' shoulder seemed to give the inhabitants of Rhofhir the impression that Brad was Dibbs' pet. Brad preferred to think of it as Dibbs' being his steed.

"Is that creature part of your business with the Commander?" A gray arassas with a ground shaking bass voice, incongruous with his slender figure, asked while pointing his chin at Brad.

"Peace!" Dibbs said, addressing Brad.

The day began for them with a three hour walk from their inn to the Adventurer's Guild. Feltz had decided to dotter along like a senile idiot, else it would have likely only been an hour walk. Along the way, Dibbs had to dismiss nine offers to buy Brad, with Brad's interjections to these idiots getting more colorful.

At the Adventure's Guild office, they were left cooling their heels in the main lobby, waiting for one of the senior members of the guild. No less than half the adventurers walking through the lobby stopped to ask what Brad was trained to do and how much for his control stone. Some of them doubled their offering price when Brad cussed them out.

Finding out that they needed to speak with a Commander Faulkin instead of the Adventurers Guildmaster (as would have been the case in just about every other place) had frustrated Dibbs and himself, though Feltz seemed to be enjoying Brad's reaction to the people who kept treating him like nothing more than a trained dog.

And now, after another hour of hiking across the city, and another four offers to buy Brad, they had reached a stone walled fortress within the city and were currently being interrogated by this gray scaled adolescent.

Brad drew himself up. The sarcasm came through in his mock-astonishment. "Why, Dibbs, I've been upgraded from 'thing' to 'creature'. Why should I take offense at that?"

"Huh. I've never seen a sapient naga sprite before. It isn't something from the Studio, is it?" the arassas asked.

Brad rolled his head, missing the crack of released muscular tension.

"Can't be," a burly cat kin in gray leather armors, the arassas' partner, said.

"Oh?" the arassas asked.

"New dungeons don't spawn constructs. That's an exceptionally well crafted golem body in the shape of a naga sprite," the cat kin said.

Feltz and Dibbs both looked at him with interest. "Worked with golems before?" Feltz asked.

The cat kin nodded. "Yep. Where's its control stone? You can take it in so long as you pass the stone to the Guard Captain, but otherwise, it has to stay in a ward cell."

"There is no control stone. He's bound to me," Dibbs said.

"Well, if you want to enter, it stays in a ward cell," the arassas stated.

"Pass him over, Dibbs," Feltz ordered, looking smug. Dibbs opened his mouth, but Feltz cut him off. "My expedition, my rules. He waits, you come with me."

Dibbs jaw worked back and forth a few times before he said, through gritted teeth, "Yes, archmage."

To Brad, Dibbs said, "My apologies for this affront to your dignity, Bradford. Would you please accompany the soldiers here to a waiting area? We will return as soon as possible."

Brad flared his wings and let the flight spell take effect. "How about I return to -"

"That's not safe," Dibbs said, cutting off Brad's suggestion. "Please."

It didn't take much for Brad to hear the threat behind that request. If he did not do as he was asked, he would have to do as he was commanded. Brad glided down to the ground, closing his wings and canceling the flight spell. He gave the two mages a cold glare and said, in his best imitation of a thwarted Tywin Lannister, "I will remember this."

*~*~*

Brad used his time waiting for Feltz and Dibbs to read more. The scroll boxes were an interesting convention, but he missed the simplicity of books. They were *much* easier to cross reference. The prevalence of long winded scroll boxes in Rhofhir did seem excessive when considering that every one was scribed and most of the blue collar workers were illiterate. However, having watched even the city guards here using ensorcelled pens, Brad guessed that most of the scroll boxes were magically copied rather than copied by hand.

"Isn't that just a strange sight?" someone said from the doorway of his waiting cell. Brad ignored the voice.

"What's that?" another voice called down the hall, sounding a touch nasally.

"There's a naga sprite in here going through scroll boxes. Looks like she's taking notes. By hand!" the voice in the doorway said.

Brad sighed. He didn't need to, but the action just so perfectly conveyed his frustrations that he had no desire to give up the movement. He flicked a glance toward the doorway, spotting a thick chested arassas with black dyed scales that glittered with a red iridescence.

"First off, I am male, not female. Second, I am not a naga sprite. And, third, I do not appreciate being gawked over." After delivering those corrections, Brad returned to his studies.

The Grand Tapestry really was a strange construct. That it was a designed system was something held as a truism by every inhabitant of Rhofhir Brad had thus far spoken with on the matter. The way it interfaced with the inhabitants was just such an obvious tell. That it was a construct was one of the oddities, but the largest oddity for Brad was the lack of common curiosity about the Tapestry. It was so much a constant of daily life that very few people - even among the mages - truly considered what it meant that they lived under the Tapestry's protection. The scroll Brad was currently reading was one of the few that Dibbs had been able to acquire which even questioned the possible mechanisms of the Primal Chaos.

"You speak!" the thick chested arassas said, drawing Brad's gaze again. The arassas' scales had lifted, reminding Brad of a ripening pine cone.

Well, fecking brill. He should have ignored the gawker. Engaging had been rather dim of him. Oh, well. Maybe if he ignored the tosser?

A second black scaled arassas, also with a red hue laying over his scales, joined the thick chested one in the doorway. "Huh. It does look like a naga sprite, but the coloring is all off. Too silver, too much sparkle."

Okay, maybe if he ignored both of the tossers. It would be so awesome if he could shoot out projectiles to scare them off, like regenerating stone feathers or something. That was so anime it would be awesome!

Feltz managed to do some conjuring, but he said it was aether intensive, and aether was something that had to be channeled. Listening to the mages arguing about the nature of aether and how it interacted with mana reminded Brad of how he had felt as a freshman listening to the math tutors arguing about the differential equations underlying the trigonometry he was struggling to wrap his head around.

That was theory, however, so perhaps he could phrase his desire as a practical challenge. Brad had the feeling that Feltz was sharper than he seemed, even if he was an amoral arse, but-

A claw tapped the top of his head, jolting Brad out of his musings. Brad jumped and flared his wings, banging them into meaty legs. An "oof!" of escaping breath accompanied the whooshing sense of a body leaping away.

Brad spun around and discovered the thick chested arassas holding in a snarky chuckle while the one who had joined him came to a landing against the wall containing the door. "What the wastes! Sand it, Mortgren!"

"You sodding son of a sodded sot! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing sneaking up on a mate like that!?" Brad roared.

The arassas who had touched him grew even more wide eyed, his body going uncannily still. A second or two later, he carefully put his hands up, palms towards Brad. "Peace?"

Brad raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, only to remember he didn't have a human face anymore. He settled for pressing two fingers against the part of his face he thought of as his brow ridges. He was tempted to make it a two finger salute, but kept the fingers together. Geoff, his roommate on earth, had taken some joy from sneaking in the gesture, amused because most Americans hadn't recognized it. Brad, though, felt if someone didn't know you were insulting them, why bother?

Taking a moment to settle himself, Brad then asked, "What do you need of me?"

"How are you talking? Naga sprites-"

"I am not a naga sprite! I am a human being trapped in a golem!" Brad roared, frustration moving him to act before he could think.

The nasally voiced arassas flattened his claw tipped fingers even more, his scales flaring even as he took a more balanced defensive posture. "Peace. Peace," he chanted.

Brad snarled and punched the floor. His gaze fixed on his fist, he said through gritted teeth, "You are not the cause of my anger, just the newest straw landing on the camel's back. My anger is not toward you, but toward the barbaric mages that inflicted this existence upon me. If you have no intention of helping me gain my freedom, then leave me the bloody fuck alone."

The two arassi backed away from him, and left him in the cell.

Brad really hated not having lungs with which to breathe properly. He still went through the motions, but they were far less effective. When he was calm enough to return to his distractions, he resumed reading the scroll box, searching for the power to free himself.

*~*~*

Feltz looked all too pleased when he and Dibbs collected Brad some while later.

"What's got Gloom Dark over there smiling?" Brad asked Dibbs.

Dibbs, too, had a lift to his steps. He helped Brad get back onto his shoulder perch as he said, "We found out that we get to do our camping with the luxury of provided beds. The dungeon entrance is a relatively short hike from the city, and it's a secondary entrance. There's a military encampment in the dungeon that we have been invited to make use of in return for including the mage soldiers in our investigations. We're leaving now, traveling with the next guard rotation."

Brad adjusted his balance. "That's rather quick."

Dibbs nodded.

"I'm still keeping the hammock," Brad said, more in an effort to irritate Feltz than from any actual desire for the thing itself.

Feltz grinned. "You did win it."

Brad decided to ignore the urge to needle the archmage directly. Pointedly ignoring Feltz, Brad spoke to Dibbs. "I had an idea about adding something like projectile feathers to my arsenal. I'm not sure how feasible that would be, though. Have you any scrolls that I might look through to get a better idea of what all is involved?"

Dibbs asked, "Projectile feathers, hm? Do they have to be solid? We could get you working on fire shaping. With enough practice you should be able to make feather shaped fire bolts. You're thinking of your 'cool factor', right?"

Brad said, "If you're going to do something, learning to do so with style isn't a bad idea, in and of itself."

Dibbs grinned. "No. No, it is not."

*~*~*

He wanted to fly, not just to get away from Feltz, but also to enjoy the sense of freedom it gave him. However, Brad decided not to poke the big gray scalies and their walking beast kin friends by swooping around them. He was also feeling just enough spiteful to take satisfaction in Dibbs having to carry him on through the rough terrain.

Easing Brad's need to move, their escorts also set a much faster walking pace than the merchants. Brad was used to either leisurely walking or racing pell mell for class, so he wasn't sure, but it seemed on the fast side for humans in general. Seeing Feltz huffing and puffing even at the guardsmen's slowed pace brought a smile to Brad's heart. He knew it was a petty joy, but sometimes he could be a petty bastard.

It wasn't that much of a hike, though. From the city walls to the dungeon entrance probably took only three quarters of an hour, and that because of Feltz's doddering.

The guards on duty waved at their escort. One hollered out, "You're late!"

The guard sergeant leading their group said, "One must respect one's guests."

"Guests, right. Are they on the list or did you pick them up on the way here?" Brad guessed that the one talking was something like the watch sergeant.

"Handed over by the Commander herself. I need to introduce them to Corporal Ignemrot before I can hear the day's log," their escort's guard sergeant said.

Dibbs asked, "Do you often pick up guests on the walk over?"

The guard sergeant rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Wasted idiots seem to think that they're entitled to wander outside the city how so ever they want, especially in the direction of this dungeon. That wouldn't normally be a problem, but the parandrians hold dungeons as sacred spaces and the tribesmen have treaty rights to set up camp near any we find. The sandy crafters are too city blind to keep from wandering into the tribesmen's camping grounds, which is just another way of saying dying. I'm hoping the tales I've heard about getting an official road built out this way aren't just waste fog and water trees."

The guard sergeants exchanged a few more pleasantries before their escort led them into a cave in a rocky outcropping. Two mage lights lit the interior, but they weren't in the cave long enough for Brad to do much more than note them before they passed through a crack in the back of the cave.

Between one step and the next, they went from being in a cave to being in an underground industrial space the like of which Brad had only seen in movies. The ambient light was brilliant, but still the dark stone making up the ceiling, walls and floor gave the cavernous edifice a shadowed feeling. Upon closer inspection, Brad realized there were buildings within this space.

*** *** ***

You have entered the Dungeon Zone [Studio of Capricious Dreams]: [Lotrot Training Floor].

*** *** ***

Their escort approached a wolf kin in black leather armor and holding a spear. "Got some guests from the Commander for the Liaison to introduce to the Dreamers."

"Got a writ?" the wolf kin asked, looking passed their escort to Dibbs.

Feltz stepped forward and held up something that Brad thought at first was a card, about A5 size.

The wolf kin nodded and turned his head to let out a low, relaxed howl. He kept his gaze on them, though, and did not seem inclined to making small talk while they waited for another of the Lotrot soldiers to trot up to them.

The guard sergeant took his leave. Dibbs, Feltz and Brad followed their new escort (an arassas with a green hue over his blackened scales) into one of the far buildings and through a maze of hallways. Feltz's breathing was labored again by the time they arrived at a doorway Brad thought was somewhere on the third level of the building. It might be the forth; there had been some interesting inclines along their route.

The arassas leading them knocked on the door. A tired sounding, "Enter," answered the knock.

The arassas that greeted them on the other side of the door had a bronze cast to his mostly black scales that reminded Brad of when a chrome plated shiny bit began to flake, the plating rubbing off. He gave them an intense scrutiny before rising from behind his desk. "How may I help you?"

"Are you Corporal Ignemrot?" Dibbs asked, eyeing the flushed Feltz with concern.

"I am. To whom am I speaking?" the arassas answered.

"My senior is Archmage Reibsamak Feltz. His proper title is Archmage Feltz. I am Casper Dibbons, Mage of the Arcane Asylum, and the golem upon my shoulder houses the soul of one Bradford Singh, a Traveler."

The corporal's gaze snapped to Brad. "Is that your full name?"

Brad found himself taken aback. "First and last. I'm not sure why you ask, though."

"The Dreamers asked that we contact the Arcane Asylum in the hopes that they might assist in determining whether a sixth Traveler of their acquaintance had been brought to Rhofhir. The Travelers among the Dreamers have three names. It's a cultural oddity to us."

Dibbs' eyebrows climbed his forehead. He looked his question to Feltz, who waved a hand, still working on finding his breath.

Corporal Ignemrot held an open back guest chair for Feltz. "Please, Archmage Feltz, let us not stand on ceremony so soon."

Feltz huffed out a, "Much appreciated," and sat in the proffered seat.

The corporal returned to the business side of the desk and withdrew a metal infused gem. "Please inform Liaison Jason Kline that the mages from the Arcane Asylum have arrived and are in my office."

Sound came from the stone. "Communication-"

A translucent holograph that looked like some of Lena's self portraits in manga style popped into the room, sending Feltz and Dibbs sprawling back in shock.

"- completed."

"Oh, my apologies!" the holograph said. "I didn't intend-"

"Bloody fuck." He didn't realize he had spoken until the holograph turned to him, its eyes widening in disbelief.

"Brad?" Lena's voice asked, echoing from the walls.

"Yep. Who else is with you? I heard Jason's name come up. Are you okay?" Brad asked. A part of him was selfishly ecstatic that he wasn't alone anymore while another felt horror, dismay, and wrenching guilt that his friends had gotten caught up in this, too.

Lena's holograph lost its shape and turned into an amorphous ball of light. "Why do you look like a naga sprite?" Lena asked.

"Golem body. Long story, short: blame the old tosser and the Astral Mage acting as my mount."

"[Offer Contract]."

Something that felt like a much more consent-focused contact, but still like the compulsion of his enslavement reached toward Brad, but was blocked. Brad wasn't certain, but it felt like the Design of Ensorcelled Slavery had actively rebuffed whatever Lena had tried with her [Offer Contract] skill.

An oppressive weight filled the room. Lena's voice came through the stone with a chilling severity that acted on Brad's nonexistent bowels, filling him with the visceral memory of muscles clenched in fear. "Who is Casper Dibbons?"

Brad fluttered his wings nervously. "That would be the Astral Mage here. Why do you ask?"

"Casper Dibbons, you will release your hold upon my friend. Now."

Feltz, having finally got his breath under control, said, "He can't. The Traveler has to break the bond on his own. It's a safety measure to prevent yolk-hearted fools like my former apprentice from unleashing havoc with good intent."

A moment of silence followed that statement, then Lena spoke again. "I'm going to offer you a contract, Casper Dibbons, and you will accept it or you will never leave this dungeon again. Am I clear?"

Dibbs cleared his throat. "That's hardly-"

"Am. I. Clear?" Lena reiterated, her voice booming throughout the room.

Dibbs drew in a deep breath, then immediately lost it as the mana evacuated a space half a meter around his skin. "Yes," he said, looking suddenly terrified.

"[Offer Contract]."

A moment later the mana rushed back in.

"Welcome to the Studio crew, Casper Dibbons. Jason is on his way to show you to your new quarters. Your companion will accompany you for the present." Lena's holograph gave the impression of now facing the arassas in the room. "Corporal Ignemrot, my apologies if my actions have inconvenienced you. Please consider what kindness I may share with you to demonstrate my appreciation of your role in reuniting us with our lost friend."

That sounded way too much like Lena as their Game Master in the character of a Powerful NPC. Hearing it from her now, without the context of their game sessions, made Brad wonder with concern at what had happened to his friends.