“I am ready!”

Suddenly a dark blue portal appeared in front of her. It held within it a swirling mass of white particles that twirled as it caught the artificial sun of her world. As she walked towards the portal, a feeling of warmth permeated through her bones, feeling as if each one was given a nice, soothing hug.

Forward she moved through a long hallway of the white particles before she appeared within a room. The room was made of a dark pine wood, complete with windows that let in small rays of light that landed across a full length mirror.

“Welcome, Emera, to the world of Terramore.” A voice said.

She slowly looked around the cozy room, for it was all she could use to describe such a room, as she eyed the level of details put into it. Lit against the back wall stood a brick fireplace with a roaring flame. On the floor in front of it sat a small throw rug emblazoned with a figure in plated armour, holding aloft a sword overhead as she seemingly called down lightning unto a dragon from the sky .

Beside the rug was where the voice came from. Sat on a rickety armchair that seemed odd in the completely refurbished home, was a really old woman who danced a ball of string from one finger to another while in the other hand she spun a gnarled stick, almost like a marching band twirler would.

“Hello? Who are you if I may ask?” Emera stared at the old woman, wondering briefly if she took the wrong turn in the portal. Thinking of the portal, she glanced backwards to find only a doorway that led off deeper into the wooden home.

“You may ask, you may.” Replied the old woman. A slight smile crept across her face, outlining her gaunt cheekbones as she continued to twirl around her string and piece of wood.

“Oh, ur, I just did? Um, who are you?” Emera was feeling mighty stupid right now. Was she supposed to know the old woman? Or was the old woman supposed to help her? Emera didn't know whether to ask again after a long pause as the woman just stared at her intently. After a couple of minutes of shuffling her feet and wondering whether she should try the doorway, the old woman spoke.

“You may call me Tally. Or you may not, that is for you to decide.” Again her grin appeared on her face for a brief second before disappearing again, replaced with a frown as she studied Emera intently once more.

After a shorter pause, the older woman finally met Emera's gaze, this time with satisfaction etched across her face.

“Mm, some patience I see. You adventurers are always so quick and hurried. Mm yes, you will do nicely.” The older woman cleared her throat and explained herself finally.

“Welcome to the world of Terramore. I am referred to as a lore master, an AI created to oversee and allow storylines to flow together seamlessly. My job is to assist adventurers such as yourself through their character creation process. When that is done, you will be transported into the greater lands beyond our little hut here. Be warned that you must eat and drink, fight and sleep, breathe and urinate-”

“Ok, ok, I get it! It's like the normal world!” She practically shouted.

Somehow she knew there would be a defecate after the urinate. She just knew it.

“Let's begin with what you wish to look like. From your chip log, you are using the legs you willed within your world? We may have to adjust them so they are physically no different than the average strength and length of the race you choose. Of course, if the race you choose ends up having two legs in the first place.”

“Two legs please!” She was not willing to lose her newfound normality anytime soon.

“Ah, that narrows the choices down from ninety-four to forty-one races. Anymore preferences before we proceed?”

Suddenly, the thought of picking from such a large list was daunting. She knew not what to choose, her experience extremely lacking in this genre of game.

“Emera, I believe from my research online that you would enjoy the river frail people.” Era said within her mind.

“Miss Tally, what are the river frail?” Emera asked out loud, curious as to why Era would recommend it. For all she knew, she would end up as a water creature weak to fire or something silly. Ha, water weak to fire.

The old woman’s face looked curiously like sadness for a moment as she spoke next.

“Ah the river frail people, subrace of the elf. It is one of the hidden races known only to a few. It’s a wonder that you know of it though?” She quirked an eyebrow as she continued.

“My data logs show that it is still available but it should not be so.“ she paused briefly as she stared ahead blankly for a moment, a frown spreading across her face.

“If you truly wish to play as part of the river frail people, be warned. New players of this game may not know as of yet why Terramore online requires two thousand artificial intelligences to create this world, but it is not a secret, but an accomplishment of both artificial intelligence and the game developers and designers who worked together to achieve this masterpiece of gaming history.” Even though she said it wasn't a secret, Tally whispered her next words as Emera raptly listened, leaning forward to hear better.

“Every single player has a unique backstory woven into their character. This allows for hidden quests and valuable rewards across the game, along with hidden classes, available only to you and your race.” Again, her face showed deep sadness.

“It is certain that the backstory of the river frail people is filled with death and despair, sadness and hopelessness, and thus your character will experience their flashbacks as things to fear for, as it will be filled with untold terrors. It is the nature of their past, present, and future until they die.

“The beta testers complained that it was too depressing of a storyline for them to keep playing as part of the river frail people. Not one player continued after they watched their backstory play out, refusing to continue their characters lives! Most did not even make it half way before deleting their character and making a new one. Most gamers play games for fun I guess, but when it gets too real for them, they back out. It seems as if the race is cursed with how badly the players avoided it! Lousy bunch of beta testers if you ask me. Humph.” The AI seemed oddly human with her berating of substandard beta testers. She could see how it could get “too real” with the level of emotions she'd seen within the little old lady.

“They only experienced brief flashbacks to certain experiences within their characters lives. They never really lived through it, only watched secondhand as their character aged and grew to their desired age! They all couldn't handle it! Bunch of lousy testers looking to make easy money. Of course, they didn't continue past their flashbacks. Bah! They could have saved the race from near destruction but nooo, they practically killed off their characters by not continuing with them!” Tally was breathing heavily, her eyes manic as she looked ready to throttle something.

Emera coughed quietly as Tally caught her breath.

“Oops, sorry dear. Want tea? No? Alright, where was I? I unleashed my temper didn't I? Ah well. It's a particularly patchy subject for me. You see, as part of being a lore master, it was my duty to ensure quest lines matched up and were ready for any problem that may arise. Well, guess who didn't realize that with no heroes from the river frail subrace, they wouldn't be strong enough to withstand the dragons! A whole two months of storyline down the drain!" Tally was beginning to lose her temper again so Emera intervened.

“Does that mean the beta testers had a head start if the storyline has been running for that long?” She asked the hot-headed granny.

“Mm. What did you say dear? Oh right. The beta testers were wiped clean as soon as the beta ended. To allow the world to develop a history, it has been allowed to maintain constant progress for the last five years in game time which amounts to one year real time since the beta ended. As you will learn in any of the races backstory, much of Terramore has changed within those five years. You'll see for yourself soon enough.” Tally hummed thoughtfully as she put a finger to her lips.

“Era,” Emera thought silently. “Does she mean that for every five hours that pass within game, only one passes in real life?”

“That is right Emera. Currently you have been online for ten minutes in real life, or fifty minutes Terramore time”

It was amazing what technology could do.

“Era, how did you find out about the river frail if it is supposed to be an unplayable race?”

“Well you see, I was going through old interviews and journalist accounts of the developers. One of them let slip of the impending end of the beta. He had excitedly let slip of the near destruction of one of the races, never really mentioning the name of said race. From there, it was simple to navigate towards some leaked information from one user titled, “Damn, this river frail race is too girly for me. What's with the flowers developers?” She paused briefly before continuing on.

Dammit, my AI loves to talk. Hopefully she would quiet down when I sleep.

“It took only 3.4 seconds in total to discover the race as the one that was nearly wiped out. From my process of elimination, I estimated only 0.05% of beta testers touched the race, and all male subjects. In conclusion, I believe the true reason there were no beta testers for the river frail race was that they were, in retrospect, too damn girly for the average gamer male. I have found it odd that there was a lack of female play testers, but I assume there were too many races to play test to divvy up the available races equally. Now, don't tell the kind old lady of my hypothesis, I am sure the beta testers would get in trouble for lying about why they switched races. Better for her to believe it was due to sadness as a reason for their abandonment of the race. I am sure to a 98% certainty, that the race couldn't be as sad as she claims.”

Era was one thorough robot. The old lady continued talking as if no time had passed. In truth, it only took barely half a second for Era to send her packet of words.

“I assume you still want to play as part of the river frail subspecies? Hmm yes, they were nearly wiped out to extinction but there should be a few playable characters left. Last chance for any second thoughts, but I must say, I have hope for the river frail race if you have a chance to lead them out of their troubles. Any last adjustments to face or body? No? Alright, then get ready to join the world. Be warned that the flashbacks may be unpleasant. Good luck and have fun!”

Hey, it couldn't be all that bad. After all, what emotional damage could a bunch of AI’s do to a person, when they, themselves, had limited emotions?

With a flash of light, Emera was transported across a vast distance as she flew over a country filled with mountains and rivers, with sparse amounts of trees lining mountain tops and filling valleys to the brim. Everywhere she looked, she could see faint lights in the distance, which she assumed were villages or cities. Numerous lakes dotted the landscape below as she continued to fly towards a village on the horizon.

Her mind was filled with wonder when she looked towards the village below her. Realization blossomed across her face as at her present path, she would soon be landing in the middle of a roaring fire they had in the middle of the square.

With a scream, Emera was launched feet first into the roaring flames. She continued to scream for several seconds before Era told her to shut up, and that the fire was not hurting her.

A blush spread across her face over her dramatic outburst. She walked not so calmly out of the flames and into the boisterous village square.

She had landed in the midst of a large festival. Everywhere she looked, she saw tall people with slightly pointed ears. They each had flowers growing above their hair, garlands that hung down and flowery blossoms that swayed while they danced. Everywhere she looked, Emera could see bright colours in the crowd of faces, belonging to people she had never met before. People not of her world.

Over the roaring of flames, she could hear a faint voice in the distance calling her name. She spun around to see a tall woman towering over a bunch of children surrounding her. The woman leaned down and plucked a girl out of the mob of children, scolding her for she knew not what. It was obvious from a distance that the girl in question wore an impish smile on her face, before abruptly squirming out of the woman’s grasp.

The woman gave a small sigh that Emera could somehow hear over the crowded square before she let out in a hollering voice.

“Your father's been looking for you all over the place! He said he would like a dance with you!” Cried the woman to the small child's back, her voice raised in pitch to be heard over the din of voices.

The young Emera made a beeline immediately after hearing that towards a large man sat on a large chair. His growth of flowers were unlike the rest of the surrounding river frail people. He wore his flowers in a patchwork of braids that coiled alongside each other into a mass of varying lengths. The flowers were all equally placed upon his brow, seven colours in total. He was talking to what appeared to be a forest scout who sported a long bow strapped to his back.

Somehow, Emera could hear their voices as well over the noisy square. Although she could hear them well, Emera found herself moving forwards through the crowd, meeting no resistance as if she were a ghost.

In point of fact, she was a ghost, reliving the younger river frail’s memories as she floated through the crowd.

“Sir, they have advanced three quarters of the distance overnight. Their forces outnumbers ours two to one and they bring their Mage. Our estimation is they will be here by tomorrow, and it will be too late to retreat if we hold off until tonight.” The ranger spoke, his voice solemn in the centre of all the pomp and cheer.

The larger man sighed as he spotted his daughter coming towards him.

“We leave in two hours to the forest of Renindar. Have hope that the elves will take us in. If not, I fear for our people. Now, if you will allow me, I would like just one dance with my daughter.” The large man said, getting up off his chair and making his way to the small child, who waited expectantly, shifting from foot to foot.

From there, it was a blur of activity for Emera as she saw the younger Emera dance with her father, balancing herself on his feet as they swayed to the music. She spotted once what she assumed was the young girls mother dancing with what looked like an older brother. The two sets of people, father and daughter, mother and son, passed each other back and forth, listening to the beat of drums as they danced their two hours away.

Emera could just think how surreal it all seemed. The blur of noises and people, the lights and the activities of various people danced and sang along, drank and ate. She could see a couple of performers dancing with fire while onlookers oohed and ahhed.

All too soon, a different beat thrummed through the crowd as large war drums took the night away. Emera witnessed with awe as the whole village abruptly stopped what they were doing and immediately set to their homes to gather their processions.

Emera watched with mute horror as the timeline sped up to a long caravan of people, silently sobbing with significantly less people. She ghosted above the young Emera, who sat within a covered wagon with her brother and mother. Dimly, she could hear howling and screeching in the distance. Whatever was after them, was very close. She spied the father alongside the wagon atop a giant white warhorse as he swivelled his head back and forth across the trail.

She shuddered as a shadow ran by the wagon, startling horses and riders alike. It was there, then it was gone, along with one of the pack mules and its handler.

Again, the timeline shifted, showing the young girl arriving at the forest of Renindar, where an assembly of elves awaited their arrival. They showed the weary travelers to a bank along a river, on the outskirts of their forest, right next to the human kingdoms. Already there were thousands of other river frail clans, weary too from long travelling. Hundreds of their villages were fled from, a shadowy enemy greater than anything they had ever seen before. Only one third of their population remained.

Houses were built, a village struck anew with the remnants of a once larger population.

A time skip again, this time showing a war between elves and humans. Emera floated above the carnage as she witnessed hundreds of elves and river frail alike, She knew without looking that the young, but no so young as she once was, Emera was under her bed, a mere two hundred meters outside of the battle. She saw in the distance an elven city burned, along with all the elven hamlets outside of it.

A blur of motion, and she was looking down towards a long line of carts, filled with elven slaves. Large, brutish looking humans with black whips rode alongside the wagons, on top of massive war mounts needed to carry their armoured masters back home.

Emera saw pillaging and raping, slavery and banditism, theft of the poor and weakened and how it all seemed to focus on the once happy river frail people. She saw how they were cast out of elven society as their bad luck continued. For years, the river frail people grew weaker and weaker, moving the dwindling population south along the river.

Still within the confines of the Renindar forest, destruction once again came to their doorstep.

Emera saw the now teenaged Emera, gaunt from starvation and dimly wondered how she was expected to live this characters life. How she could pull this character from the banks of death. She still somehow retained her family through all the misery and destruction that had befallen their people. If she were to be this character, could she rely on them to help her?

Then it got worse.