Chapter 30: Metallic Ligatures and Spinal Structures

Unlike many other game zones, the Crescent Valley had no major city hub. Instead, it was a collection of smaller villages and warrens dotting the land in a sparse array. It made sense to me that the geological mages could dwell in the foothills and caves, the plant mages had verdant forests and permacultured habitations, and beast mages had more animals to interact with in such an untamed region.

The stretched-out nature of the settlements, however, made it unclear where we might look for the famed Ursamigo. With one of Medett’s nebulous quests to guide our party, we investigated claims of other crashed-landed robot parts. Now we were searching for a crushed house.

“Medett marked the Grave Grove location on my map,” I said. “I think we should head in that direction and question anyone along the way.”

“The quicker we find Azzy, the better,” said DarkNeon. “This robo-splosion business is secondary as far as I’m concerned.”

“We all want to find him,” said Relja, “but I think the goddess-robot stuff is pretty important, too.”

“Gaining access to the Spirit Realm is paramount,” said Vick5.

“Yeah, you’re prolly right,” said DarkNeon to Relja. “It’s all connected, I imagine.”

When I shared the “Metal Monster Mystery” quest with Vick5, I had realized—with far more dismay than I could process at the time—that my epic quest had disappeared from my tablet. Azwold and I had developed a habit of tackling each leg of the questline as they became relevant. Bound to the mage as I was, I could never read ahead.

The quest was our guiding light. I might have felt more free without it, but I felt lost instead. I had goals, yes, but fewer specific guidelines. Bereft of my overarching narrative’s specifics, I felt more human than was normal in Realms of Lore. Not that I was experiencing the special flavor of elation and entrapment that free will provides, but some close digital approximation.

A fleeting memory of sitting in a college poetry class washed across me. My confusion assuaged itself, remembering how working within a form can free one’s mind in ways that spark creativity; ways that might otherwise stay hidden. Striving for a particular meter or rhyme scheme meant more brain power for content and less for form.

Quests were like this. Known quantities to usher one forward in pursuit of goals.

Yolo stumbled on a stone in the path. In the quick moment we canted forward, DarkNeon plucked a berry bunch from a bush growing there. She bit a couple off as if nothing had happened. The smooth slip brought me out of my thoughts and into a realization that I had lost track of our location.

Relja and Vick5 were leading on Fizzu. We had left the balloon basket behind and Relja had set it aloft with a song and directions back to Soleus City. We knew Telemoon could be anywhere. This meant opting for less conspicuous conveyances. Not that a Luminous Llama was in-conspicuous, but at least on the ground we had trees for shade and cover instead of miles of sky visibility.

There was an unusual hubbub ahead.

“We must desert the road,” said Vick5. “Assume Telemoon presence.”

“I don’t see any dark blue uniforms,” said DarkNeon.

“The scientific method would be nothing without adaptive capacity,” he replied.

“What’s he blabbering about?” she asked me over her shoulder.

“Mayhap they have learned to conceal their identities?” I said.

“Gods, I hope you’re wrong. It’s bad enough with them advertising themselves. Undercover Telemoon would suck.”

Relja dismounted Fizzu, inviting Vick5 to do the same. Then she un-summoned her strider, which she rarely did; because of the RP-optional nature of the server, I assumed.

“You should stash Yolo, too,” she said to DarkNeon.

We dismounted, and she did just that.

“I leveled up somewhere between Dustwind Inn and here,” said DarkNeon. “If I pump [Spell: Lenticular Bubble II] up to level three, I can hide all three of us.”

“Covert Ops?” Vick5’s head tilted. “There are 4 members of this party.”

DarkNeon sighed, then began casting her spell. “Fine, I’ll hide the tech bro too I guess.”

To me, he said; “The Light Rogue’s behavior may jeopardize our mission if it continues.”

“Hey buddy,” she halted her casting, “if you’re gonna talk crap, at least say it directly to me.”

Vick5 repeated; “Cease your obstinate behavior. It may jeopardize our mission.” Then after several moments. “Please.”

She huffed. “Whatever. But only because you used the magic word.”

DarkNeon cast [Spell: Lenticular Bubble III], enveloping us in a cascade of bent light like a giant soap bubble swirling rainbows.

“Keep your grabbers and walkers inside the bubble skin and we should be hard to spot,” said DarkNeon. “And huddle close.”

Though our status was “invisible,” not “stealth,” we moved like a clumsy stealth mode cluster.

Carrion birds wheeled above beyond the serried evergreen treetops. A small party of players riding Moss Elk clopped past as we slunk off the path’s edge. I noticed part of a bush enter our bubble illusion, but if it disappeared from view, the players were beyond our location too quickly to notice.

As we edged closer to the village ahead, it became clear what the noise and attention were about. Clearer than most things: an enormous metal head lay on its ear atop a demolished home. Or a tree. Or a house made mostly out of tree parts. It was impossible to tell because the robot head had squashed the habitation, twiggy bits scattered out in a blast radius.

The head looked like an ancient statue; a buddha or Olmec. Like tarnished copper and a texture that looked more like weathered, pockmarked stone than metal. It did not seem feminine to me. That I had pulled up casual references in my mind to a world outside Realms of Lore did not surprise me anymore. But I was sure Vick5 had said “Goddess.” Perhaps the Mentalist Troika had not deemed assigning their prototypes a gender to be of particular utility.

A thunderous roar reverberated from beyond the robot’s head.

“Did that sound like a bear to you?” asked Relja.

In an instant, DarkNeon vanished from our midst, along with her invisibility bubble. We were visible now, but everyone else had heard the terrible roaring, too, and were unconcerned with us. Trios of randoms appeared out of nowhere often in-game.

After scanning the vicinity and reporting no obvious Telemoon presence, Vick5 said, “Let us investigate,” then leapt forward with his [Hydraulic Leap].

But he skidded to a halt as he rounded the bend of the robot's severed neck. He raised a hand up to warn us, then attempted to blend in with the wiry metallic ligatures and spinal structures poking out from the neck parts.

What we beheld astounded me. A single ursine combatant was fending off the entire Telemoon party we had encountered earlier. The massive bear was brown with glyphs of moss green, sunset orange, and turning leaf yellow branded into its hide. Its maw could fit an armful of skulls in it, and it had claws thicker than my hands.

The Telemoon party took evasive maneuvers. They did not engage, staying as out of range as they could. The bear’s slow, yet powerful swipes and chomps could one-shot an average player, I had no doubt. But this bear only used his abilities to create a perimeter around the robot head, to keep them at bay.

Both parties were aware the stalemate was defensible, and neither wanted to back down.

“C’mon,” said DarkNeon, sneaking to my left.

“Gah!” Relja gasped. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry. We gotta go back him up,” she replied.

“I do not wish to become a chew toy,” I said, crossing my arms and caressing my ulnas.

“You said you wanted to find Ursamigo?” said Relja.

“Well, there ya go,” DarkNeon finished.

“How is he so strong?” I said.

“I heard he snuck into the Telemoon labs shape-shifted as just a little baby raccoon,” Relja whispered, “and burgled something during the night.”

“I heard he was the first player to reach max level Leatherworking,” said DarkNeon, “and got some uber fancy loot or something.”

“I question the validity of both assertions,” said Vick5. “It is common knowledge that Ursamigo is a game developer masquerading as a mere player.”

The bear stood on his haunches, panting and drooling. His terrible arms began to sway; head wagging. Verdant, bioluminescent leaves swirled around the matted arm fur. A staff appeared, cradled in his massive paws. An oaken owl with amber gem eyes materialized atop the staff and Ursamigo’s paws shrunk into hands.

He reverted to his caster form.

His humanoid form was similar to his bear form, except 1/4 the size. The primary distinguishing features were his leathery cowl with moss-encrusted antlers and his oaken owl staff. Where Berem had raptor talons on his shoulders, Ursamigo had bear paws. With a beard like dry pine needles and eyes with an amber gleam, it was easy to see why this player’s reputation preceded him.

“Need a hand kicking these dweebs’ buns?” DarkNeon called to him.

“Couldn’t hurt,” the Druid called back mid spell cast.

A flurry of thorny vines tumbled at the nearest Telemoon attackers.

“Ready?” Relja asked DarkNeon.

“Yup.”

The Light Rogue began a swift, darting dance with her daggers out. Relja joined with a breathy hymn, blending their spell casting. DarkNeon dashed forward past Ursamigo, buffed and bolstered by Relja’s [Spell: Twister Weapon I], enchanting her with extra dodge chance and extra attacks with bonus wind damage.

With three of the Telemoon party immobilized by the Druid’s [Spell: Tangleroot III], DarkNeon landed several un-reprised attacks on Sprock3t.

Seizing the opportunity, Ursamigo bear-rushed into Sprock3t, laying him flat across the dirt. His health bar dripped away to a tiny red sliver.

“Oh, how the turntables,” said DarkNeon, winking at the Electric Combat Technician.

He frowned, then gave a retreat signal. With immediate compliance, the Telemoon team escaped the moment Ursamigo’s vines expired.

[Relja has reached level 29!]

“Nice!” said DarkNeon. “You should get [Spell: Twister Weapon II]. Just sayin’!”

“I just might,” she said.

“Congratulations,” said Vick5. “But they will not be gone long. And they will return in greater numbers. Reacquiring the asset is non-optional.”

The famous Beast Druid stood quietly regarding us. He was staring at me.

“I think we should hide the head from them,” said Relja.

“If that were possible, I would agree,” said Vick5.

“It may be,” said Ursamigo. “I’ll recruit the proper help and see what we can do.” He said this while continuing to regard me. “How are your vineworks holding up?”

“Functionally?” I said. I lacked a frame of reference on other vineworks options.

“Let’s skip all the how-do-you-dos,” said DarkNeon. “We know you helped Azwold summon this guy right here.”

“I did,” said Ursamigo in his rich baritone.

“Did you only offer materials?” I said. “Or did your involvement stretch further?”

He gazed around at our party, and at the onlookers assembled near the robot head, skeptical.

“If you know anything,” I said, hoping desperation had not crept into my voice, “about how I ended up inside a game? I would love to hear it all.”

“I know quite a lot, in fact,” he said. “But it may be of more immediate use for you to know that Azwold found me IRL.”

We stared at him; those of us with eyelids blinking.

“IRL?” I said.

“Yes. Outside Realms of Lore.”