Adventurers Wanted

he journey to the tomb with the unsolvable riddle is light. The forest isn’t dense, and you haven’t run into any wild animals larger than a rabbit. You do notice a few Noke’s flying overhead, and you’re pleased to see them alive in their natural habitat instead of dead and pinned to a dissection tray like you normally did in school.

As you travel, your mind drifts back to Sasha and her group.

“What are you thinking about, Enchanter?” Alexle asks. The T-1 chassis strides next to you, studying your face.

“I’m not sure if Sasha is leading us into a trap,” you reply.

“Why did you trust her?”

Alexle’s question touches a growing concern you’ve had for some time. Your lack of experience interacting with people has made you a poor judge of character. “I didn’t say I trusted her,” you finally reply.

“Then why are we doing this?”

You sigh, hoping Alexle will understand your answer. “It’s complex. I wanted to help ease her suffering. I wanted to solve this riddle and be the first to do something. And…I just wanted to be spontaneous. I’ve spent so much time in laboratories being able to predict outcomes with relative certainty, and this was an opportunity to do something…unpredictable.”

“You would risk your life for that?”

“Apparently so.” Your answer surprises you. The more you think about this side quest, the more reckless it seems. You are acting on unverified information from a source you can’t be sure you can trust. Your pace slows, and the T-1 walks ahead of you. For a moment, there’s enough doubt in your mind that you feel the impulse to call this excursion off. But then the T-1 points.

“I see something,” Alexle announces. The doubt instantly clears, and you are recommitted to the task once again.

The tomb entrance is composed of giant crumbling bricks hewn from granite. Looking into the mouth of the entrance, you can see the ground slope downward into the earth and disappear into the darkness. Standing just outside of the entrance is a giant metal statue. The figure is sculpted to look like a soldier down on one knee with head bowed in deference. It’s covered in dirt and plant growth, hiding most of the intricate artistry and lifelike detail. You walk past it and enter the tomb.

A few paces in, you grab one of the unlit torches on the wall and light it with a simple cantrip. You hand it to the T-1 to illuminate the way forward. When you do so, you notice there are heavy vertical scrapes in the walls here. Following them to the ceiling, you see an outline of a giant square stone. No doubt, this is where the entrance closes once the riddle is spoken, just as Sasha explained. You feel better, knowing that Sasha told the truth, but you also feel unnerved staring at your possible doom.

You and the T-1 proceed further into the tomb. You notice fingernail scratches in the walls that were most likely left by previous victims in their last moments.

“Enchanter, look,” Alexle says. You look farther ahead and see a machine chassis standing in the passageway, lifeless. It has a similar humanoid design to your T-1, but it’s much older and less sleek. By its broad shoulders, oversized claws, and stout frame, this chassis was made for heavy-duty tasks like construction or possibly war. You approach to inspect it. Markings on its shoulder reveal that it is indeed a War Machine. It must have followed a Battle Enchanter. The War Machine’s Command Crystal is still intact.

“Alexle, why is this machine still here?”

“The enchanter for this machine has expired.”

Realizing, you ask, “Alexle, what happens to you when I…expire?”

The T-1 turns to face you. “Enchanter, you brought me into this realm. My existence is tied to your life. When you expire, I cease to exist.” You nod at this revelation and continue further into the tomb.

Eventually, you reach a large chamber where a giant stone sphinx dominates the center. Magical torches on the walls ignite automatically when you enter. Behind the sphinx appears to be a stone gate. You guess that it will open after solving the riddle. What disturbs you, however, are all of the lifeless chassis that litter the room. Some look humanoid. Others are simple geometric shapes. Some are made out of wood. As you pass them, you wonder how many enchanters just like you met their end in this tomb.

“Answer my riddle,” it intones, “and you may pass to the treasure room. Fail, and your journey ends here.”

“Ask your riddle, sphinx,” you say bravely.

It clears its throat, then speaks again. “What occurs once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?” You cock your head to one side in disbelief. Everyone knows the answer to this common riddle. Could it really be this easy?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of machinery coming to life in the walls. The scraping of stone on stone echoing down the passageway means that the entrance is closing. A soft constant hiss above you announces the poisonous gas Sasha spoke of.

Incredulously, you answer, “The letter ‘M’.”

“Correct!” the sphinx replies. You wait a moment, but the poisonous gas continues to fill the room, and the stone at the entrance continues to descend.

“I said the letter ‘M’!” you shout.

“Correct!” the sphinx replies cheerily. Nothing changes, and you begin coughing on the gas. You look over at the treasure room door; it’s still closed. In that moment, you mind drifts back to your finals and how Wizard Granger’s puzzle cube wouldn’t open despite solving it. Your heart sinks to your stomach when you realize the problem.

“Broken trigger,” you mutter. You turn to the T-1 and give it a look of despair. “We’re doomed.”

“No,” Alexle replies, the ruby eyes of the T-1 flashing, “follow me, Enchanter!” The T-1 runs back to the passageway, and you do your best to keep up.

“What are you doing?” you yell.

“Being spontaneous!” Alexle yells back. You both reach the War Machine you passed earlier.

“Now what?” you ask between coughs. Suddenly, the T-1 throws you your pack and falls over, lifeless. Then the Command Crystal in the War Machine glows, and the chassis springs to life, albeit with loud squeaks coming from its joints.

“This way, Enchanter!” Alexle commands with a loud booming voice from the War Machine’s voice box. The War Machine charges ahead to the entrance. The stone has almost completely descended, blocking your escape, but the War Machine dives beneath it and braces the huge stone with its arms and chassis, preventing the stone from sealing you inside.

“Hurry Enchanter!” Alexle urges. You dive next to the War Machine and begin crawling underneath the stone. The machinery in the walls whines in protest, but you manage to get across without being crushed. You turn to the War Machine.

“Alexle! Give me your hand, and I’ll pull you across!” You extend an arm.

“Enchanter, you and I both know that is an impossibility.”

“Fine, then I’ll pull your Command Crystal.” You begin to venture back beneath the stone.

“No, Enchanter! If the crystal is pulled, I will no longer have control over this chassis, and we will both be crushed.” The War Machine chassis begins to fail as cogs and gears explode from joints, and the stone begins to descend once more.

“Alexle, listen to me. There aren’t any Command Crystals nearby to jump to! If yours breaks, then….” You can’t bring yourself to finish that sentence, and in that moment, you realize that Alexle is more than just a machine intelligence to you.

The War Machine studies your face and your agonized expression.

“Enchanter,” Alexle says, as the War Machine’s limbs give out, and the stone descends freely, “thank you for this gift of existence. Thank you for the opportunity to learn from you and to care for you. I…hope…you will say a toast to the memory of me.”

The Command Crystal suddenly shatters beneath the weight of the stone, and the War Machine is crushed flat with a deafening finality. You stay there, kneeling at the tomb entrance, with your mind swirling with emotions. You’re not sure if you should celebrate being alive or grieve the loss of Alexle.

After a time, you pick yourself up and shuffle back into the woods. You decide it’s best to avoid Sasha and her group, and you get back on the road to university.

eph’s continuing rise in subscribers frustrates you as you make your way through the nearby forest as directed by Sirixtana. You can only hope that the “extreme” location you’re being guided to will make for good content. You’ve been etherstreaming your journey through the forest, and you’ve been receiving positive feedback so far from the chatter. In the back of your mind, however, you worry about the energy level of your gadgets and your distance from any enchanter who can reenergize them.

“Sirixtana, how much energy do you have left?”

“3 percent,” Sirixtana replies flatly.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.” You check your Pocket Palantír and see that it only has enough energy for one more etherstream. You decide to save the last bit of energy for when you get to the location.

“Sirixtana, do you have enough energy to get me where we’re going?”

Sirixtana is quiet for longer than you would like, then replies, “No, Gadgeteer. But if you keep heading in this direction, you’ll find it.” Sirixtana’s voice trails away, and the glow on the timepiece fades.

“But how will I know what it looks like?” you ask futilely. Sirixtana doesn’t reply.

Suddenly, the sounds of the surrounding forest become much more distinct, and you realize just how alone you are in the woods. There is no one to guide you or provide information on how to survive. If something should happen to you, then there is no one to call for help. You try to put the thoughts out of your mind and keep moving.

As the days pass and the few snacks you’ve packed dwindle away, your immediate concern becomes where to find food. You resist the urge to check your Pocket Palantír for information on identifying edibles in the forest, so that you can save the energy for your etherstream. Instead, you think back over all the random content you’ve watched over the years, from people etherstreaming earwax removal to playing with toys. Suddenly, memories of sleepless nights watching outdoor survivalists bubble up to the top of your thoughts.

These lone wanderers showed what it was like to live outside of the cities and survive off of nature. You found their lifestyle fascinating but never thought the information was practical to you. But now, staring at berries growing on a bush, you realize that they’re safe to eat because of watching five minutes of survivalist content years ago. You grab the berries, eat a few, and pack the rest away.

More days go by, and now your biggest concern is the constant stinging of the mosquitos flying around you. Waving them off is only a temporary solution. Remembering another etherstream, you locate some mud and rub it all over your face, neck, and arms. That should keep the mosquito stings to a minimum.

Looking at your clothes, you realize that they’re torn in several places where low branches have ripped at you as you passed. Also, your water and berry diet over the last few days has shrunk your waistline considerably. You tighten your belt and press on.

Finally, after a week of surviving in the wilds, with a walking stick in one hand and a torch in the other, you find yourself at a cliff’s edge overlooking a tranquil bay. There’s no farther you can go. The sun is setting in the distance, and you look around for the “extreme” location Sirixtana guided you to.

Nothing looks dangerous here. There appears to be plenty of fruit growing on trees. The area is defensible against predators. There’s even a freshwater waterfall nearby. The scene looks like something approaching paradise.

You can’t understand why Sirixtana would send you here. The only thing extreme about it is its beauty. Then it dawns on you that perhaps this is what Sirixtana wanted you to experience all along. Your heart swells in your chest, and you reach reflexively for your Pocket Palantír to capture the moment. But you surprise yourself by stopping. The sun will be below the horizon in a few minutes, taking the beauty of the scene with it, and you find yourself wanting to keep this moment just for you.

You sit down and watch the sun set.

As night falls, you light a fire and make camp under the stars and ponder your future as an Influmancer. You’ve lost an entire week, and you’ve seen other Influmancers lose relevancy and status in less time for not etherstreaming daily content. And yet, here in this magnificent place, the prospect of fading into anonymity doesn’t bother you. You drift off to sleep.

The next morning you pull out your Pocket Palantír and use the last of its energy to map out a quick way through the forest and back to the road.

fter spending an extra day near the fair to recover from your challenge with Johnny Rolento, you go back to hiking the main road. A few days in, a terrible storm moves over the area and pours rain relentlessly down on you. The thought of holing up somewhere crosses your mind several times, but you’ve already lost a day of travel at the fair, and you don’t want to be late for orientation at university. You decide to trudge onward, but the storm will not be ignored, and strong gusts blow the rain horizontally into your face. As a compromise, you travel through the forest, which is slower, but at least you’ll have some reprieve from the pelting rain as the trees absorb much of the weather.

You draw Blade to clear a path through the brush.

“I’m not a machete, you know!” Blade complains in between swings. The haptic feedback in the hilt vibrates in protest, then it goes very still suddenly, surprising you into inspecting Blade for problems. The RGB lighting flickers a rainbow pattern as if Blade is trying to discern something, then it settles on a crimson red. “Warrior, you are being hunted.”

A chill down your spine freezes you in place as your senses extend to fill the area around you. Your ears perk up to filter out the noise of the rain slapping against the foliage above. A twig snaps behind you, and you spin to find nothing there. In the corner of your eye, you notice the brush part slightly, but nothing emerges. Your mind races with possibilities. Could it be bandits? An animal? The mysterious “MT”? You ignore the rain splashing into your face and stinging your eyes as you try to penetrate the shadows to see what’s approaching, but to no avail.

“We need to get to a clearing,” Blade advises. A sapling snaps – this time much closer – and you’re spurred into action. Your heart races in your chest, and your pulse pounds in your ears as you run toward light. Branches whip you as you pass, and roots threaten to trip you, but you eventually burst forth from the forest and into a large clearing surrounded by trees. When you reach the middle, you turn to see who or what is pursuing you.

our encounter with Eye last week shook you, though you were loath to admit it. You had always been the fastest rogue you knew and took pride in that. It was one of the few things you could take pride in. All of your victories and achievements were hard-earned by your sweat and toil. It was an injustice that someone could simply buy their way past you. And now that person was targeting you.

You take some solace in knowing that of all the rogues Eye could choose to fixate on, you were the one she thought posed the greatest challenge. It isn’t much, but it’s something. You try to put thoughts of her out of your mind as you approach your first stop: a mountainside hamlet where a merchant is selling new boots at a deep discount.

It’s just after breakfast, and people are starting their day. You look around for signs of Eye but don’t see her. You smile to yourself and stroll leisurely to the bootmaker’s shop. As you reach for the door, it bursts open, and Eye comes out almost running into you.

“Oh!” she says in feigned surprise. “It’s you! Do you like my new boots?” She strikes a modeling pose to show off her footwear. The brown leather clashes with her red and white outfit.

“Those don’t work for your ensemble,” you say, shaking your head.

Eye follows your gaze and frowns. “I agree. I’m throwing them away later. I just didn’t want you to have them.” She looks up at you from under her eyebrows to take in your expression and laughs. You take a deep breath and walk away.

Once you’re on the road, Bioze asks, “What now?”

“She gave me a head start and still beat me here,” you think aloud. “She must be predicting where I’m going and racing me there.”

“That makes sense,” Bioze says.

“Then let’s be unpredictable. If we can get half of the gear I need, then that’s better than nothing. Crank up the voltage, Bioze, and let’s do this.” You speed off, and you can feel the overvoltage surge through the suit.

“Rogue,” Bioze warns, “remember to keep the suit as cool as possible. If the suit overheats, then it could be damaged beyond repair.”

“I’ll be careful,” you vow, “but we need to win.”

At your next stop, you’re disheartened to see Eye leaning against the wall of the store you were headed to. She admires her new gloves. “I see why you wanted these,” Eye says. “You have good taste.”

You decide that she’s either a lucky guesser or she’s following you. Whichever case it may be, Eye beats you to every merchant no matter how much you try to rearrange your path or manage the overvoltage of your suit. Boots. Gloves. Lockpicking tools. On and on, Eye gets to the gear you need first, and you look on helplessly as her pack grows with equipment. After days of punishing humiliation, all that’s left on your list is the silly foam finger that you don’t need. Nevertheless, you commit to getting it and seeing this through.

A day later, you arrive at the ocean, standing atop a cliff. Roughly a mile in the distance, at the end of a peninsula, you can make out a merchant’s wagon exactly where the listing at Separation Point said it would be. The ocean breeze whips through your hair and finds the seams in your suit, sending a refreshing coolness down your back.

“You have to know by now, Rogue,” Eye’s familiar voice says from behind you, “there is nothing you can want that I can’t beat you to first.”

You don’t bother turning around. Not only has she taken the gear you needed, but she’s taken your pride. If there’s one thing she isn’t going to get, then it’s this foam finger.

“Bioze, give me everything you got.” Energy courses suddenly through your limbs, and you make a mad dash for the merchant. Your early lead fills you with confidence, but you learn quickly why Eye’s suit is called Afterburner. Not only are the highlights on the suit glowing red, but you can see it actively venting heat as Eye begins to pass you with half the distance to spare.

Defeated – again – you begin to slow. But then Bioze presents an idea.

“Rogue, run by the shore.”

“Why?” you ask, confused. “It’s a longer path.”

“Because the water can cool the suit,” Bioze explains, “and I can overvoltage even higher. And maybe that will be enough performance to beat Eye.” You change course and run to the sandy beach. The ocean spray feels cool against your warm face and sizzles when droplets land on hotspots on your suit. Bioze manages to provide more performance due to this makeshift cooling solution, and you watch the confident smile on Eye’s lips die as you pass her for the first time.

The sandy beach gives way to rocks covered in sea moss, and you nearly slip several times, but you manage to keep your footing and continue running. You leave the water’s edge and run straight for the merchant. Away from the shoreline, you can feel the heat building up in your suit.

“Rogue, I have to lower the voltage,” Bioze says.

“No! I have to win!” you shout. The merchant’s wagon is only a short sprint away, and you begin preparing a roguish quip or pithy remark for when the foam finger is yours. Maybe you’ll use it to point at Eye’s mouth and tell her she has something in her teeth. Maybe you’ll hold it out to her and ask her to pull your finger. You laugh at the thought.

“Rogue,” Bioze groans, “something’s…wrong. I’m…sorry….” Suddenly, your suit becomes inert and lifeless. Whatever revenge fantasies you were imagining suddenly leave your mind, and you stop in your tracks. You look at the gauge on your sleeve and see that the suit still has plenty of energy.

“Bioze, what’s wrong?” you ask. There’s no answer. The heat from the suit makes you sweat, but the fear that you’ve just broken Bioze sends a chill down your spine. The faces of your family flash in your mind and you can still see your little sister’s hopeful face as she holds up the broken shards of her pygg bank.

Eye runs by you with a giggle and beats you to the merchant. As she pays for the foam finger, she taunts you, “I win again!” But nothing else matters to you except bringing Bioze back to life. You peel out of your suit and begin troubleshooting.

“I’m number one! I’m number one!” Eye chants, wearing the foam finger and dancing around you. You ignore her, focusing entirely on Bioze. You check connections and look for tears but can’t find anything out of place. Your heart races as panic sets in.

Eye wags the foam finger in your face obnoxiously. You grab it and throw it a few feet away. “Knock it off! I don’t care about it!” you shout. “Take it and leave me alone.”

For the first time, Eye looks defeated. “Well, you’re no fun anymore,” she says, giving you one last look before walking away. She doesn’t bother taking the foam finger, and it lies discarded on the ground.

The ocean breeze picks it up and carries it away.